#transparent part is really trying my patience

[mspoodle1]

🎡🍭🎡

[girlgenius1111]

You Come Back With Gravity

alexia and r have an argument. r misunderstands, and when alexia leaves to calm down, she thinks she's going for good. angst + fluff :)

-----

Alexia was big on communication, and she didn't like to fight. Neither did you, although your track record in past relationships may argue otherwise. That was more on your former partners, though, than it was on you. Not fighting was new for you. Alexia never yelled, and she insisted that the two of you talk about any issues that were going on calmly, and like adults. A voice had never been raised between the two of you, arguments never escalating to full blown shouting matches, mostly because of Alexia's insistence that they didn't.

Something about this argument, though, felt different. Alexia had proposed a few weeks ago, and, after having a bit too much to drink, you'd brought up something that had been nagging at the back of your mind for a while. Alexia had brushed it aside that night, and again and again since, until you practically forced her to talk about it. Normally, when you presented Alexia with an issue you had, she was quick to try to fix it. Your teammates often joked about the complete 180 Alexia did when she was around you, melting and agreeing to anything you asked of her. You were the same way for her, but it was more surprising that their normally very willful captain so easily did as you said.

If Alexia wouldn't budge on an issue, she normally had a reason, and you didn't require her to explain herself to you. This was different, though. You needed an explanation, before your mind continued to take off in the worst directions.

"Alexia, do you not see that this is important to me?"

"I do, amor, but there is no room for discussion. We are not going public with our relationship. It has stayed low key for this long, and I intend to keep it that way." Alexia was quickly losing her patience with you, and you could tell. Still, you persisted. 

'You won't even give me a reason, Ale! Is this what our relationship is going to be like for the rest of our lives? You make a decision that affects both of us, and I just have to live with it?" Your voice was slightly raised and you could tell Alexia was upset. You were pacing around the room, and she was sitting, completely still, on the couch. Alexia was never still. A part of her was always moving.

"I am not changing my mind on this, mi amor." Alexia told you calmly, although her jaw clenched tight when she finished speaking.

"Okay, well that's it. You don't care what I think. Whatever you say goes, is that it?" You were using anger to hide how terrified you were. There was really only one reason that you could think of to explain Alexia's complete refusal to be transparent about your relationship.

"You know that it is not."

"This is absurd, Ale, we can't even have a conversation without you-"

"¡Basta! Stop yelling, I do not want to talk anymore about this," Alexia shouted finally, rising to her feet.

"I am yelling because you are not listening to me,"

"You are not listening to me. No more of this, we can discuss it when we are both calmer."

"I don't want to push this aside again, I would like to resolve it now." You tried to calm yourself down slightly despite your words, drawing in a few deep breaths as you waited for your fiancée to respond.

"It is resolved. There is no discussion to be had. There is no other option; we are not going public. No."

You let out a humorless laugh, and Alexia's eyebrows shot up. She did not like to be laughed at.

"You aren't being fair, Alexia. I deserve an explanation for why you are so very ashamed of me, to the point you don't want anyone to know we are together."

Alexia rolled her eyes, not taking your statement seriously. She thought you were just being dramatic, there was no way you really believed that. You did believe it, though and Alexia's complete dismissal in the face of your admitted vulnerability made you furious.

"Jesus, Alexia. Fine. You get your way. As usual. Captain Alexia always gets what she wants." You yelled, throwing yourself down on the couch dramatically and burying your head in your hands. You didn't want to cry while you were fighting with her, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You knew you weren't being fair, or particularly nice but Alexia had hurt your feelings and she didn't even seem to understand why.

It was dead silent for a full minute before Alexia let out a long, drawn out exhale, and spoke.

"You are being mean. I am going to go to Alba's."

Her words were stiff, clearly communicating how upset she was with you, and you whipped your head up to look at her, watching as she headed towards the door, grabbing her keys. She put her airpods in, but you didn't see her do so.

"Ale? Are you coming back?" You called, voice full of insecurity.

Alexia couldn't hear you, not with her music playing as loud as it was, and she walked out the door without acknowledging that you'd spoken.

You were frozen. This was what you always did; take a small fight and push it so far that the other person finally saw that you weren't worth the trouble. It hadn't happened with Alexia yet because you'd never fought with her. It wasn't enough that she didn't want anyone to know the two of you were together, you had to push her until she didn't want to be with you, period.

You were an over-thinker to your core, and you were convinced, absolutely, that you had just destroyed the most important relationship that you'd ever had. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, the suffocating weight of thinking that the woman you loved was not coming back taking over.

You weren't sure why you were surprised. People left, people always left. Why would this be any different? Alexia was the best person you'd ever known, and she deserved far better than what you could give her, even when you were at your best. Of course Alexia didn't want anyone to know that she was with you. Of course she didn't want you. You had only yourself to blame.

-----

While you sat alone in your apartment, spiraling, Alexia was driving not to her sisters, but to the beach. She needed some peace and quiet to think, which she surely would not find at Alba's.

She just needed to cool down. You were upset, she was upset, and continuing on like you had been would only lead you both to say things you didn't mean. She'd take an hour, calm down, and head home. Alexia had no idea that you had asked her a question before she'd left, had no idea that you were sitting at home, convinced she was done with you.

The longer she was gone, though, the more guilty she felt. She remembered the look on your face when you'd spoken:

"I deserve an explanation for why you are so very ashamed of me, to the point you don't want anyone to know we are together."

She thought you were just trying to make a point at the time, but as she got space from the fight, and from her own anger, she felt less sure about that judgment. You'd looked distraught when you said it. It would explain why you were so very upset with her reluctance to go public, why you were so very upset with her.

Alexia had watched many relationships fall apart once they hit the public eye; some of her own, and some of them, her friend's. She didn't want that. As long as you two kept this to yourselves, allowing your loved ones and teammates to know and no one else, the media couldn't destroy it. That was Alexia's biggest fear; losing you, and having no control over it.

Of course, you were sat at home, practically catatonic, at the thought that you had lost Alexia.

-----

Alexia didn't even make it an hour like she planned. She was parking in the driveway 44 minutes after she'd left, flowers next to her in the front seat, as she tried to figure out if she'd given you enough space to think. She determined that she had, mostly because she couldn't stand leaving things like this any longer, and she fixed her hair in the mirror, tucking the shorter pieces behind her ears in the way she knew you liked, before grabbing the flowers.

When she had left, it was still light out. It was dark, now, and Alexia was surprised when she opened the door and there was not a light on in the house. She panicked slightly, wondering if you'd left, before spotting your silhouette on the couch. Exactly where you'd been when she left. It looked like you hadn't moved, even an inch. The blonde slipped her shoes off, walking cautiously closer to you, flipping on the light.

You didn't make a move, giving her no indication that you knew she was there with you. Alexia could tell you were trembling, and every breath you drew in came with a small, pained whimper. Alexia was more than concerned, now. She dropped the flowers on the table, before crouching down in front of you.

"Mi amor?" She said softly, weary to touch you, not wanting to startle you.

"Hey, amor?" She spoke slightly louder this time. Still, you didn't even twitch. Tentatively, she reached her hand out, letting her hand wrap around your wrist. She was going to try to pull your hand away from your face, but you beat her to it, jumping a foot in the air at her touch, and scrambling backwards.

"It is me, amor, it is just me," Alexia reassured, throwing her hands up in the air, and not moving any closer.

"Ale?" You gasped, as if you couldn't believe that she was here in front of you. You were half convinced you were hallucinating. It felt like 2 minutes had passed, but also like it had been hours since she left.

"It is just me," Alexia repeated, taking a seat on the very edge of the couch. You were still shaking, and Alexia longed to bring you into her arms.

"What are you doing here?" You asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You came back. Why?"

"Why... why would I not come back? This is our home. Ours. Did you not want me here?" Alexia asked insecurely, entirely confused at your reaction. Your eyes were watery, and you bit your lip, shaking your head at her.

"No, I want you here, I... I asked if you were coming back. And you left without answering."

"Qué?" Alexia asked, looking genuinely confused. Alexia couldn't lie to you, and if she'd ignored something you'd said, she'd admit to it.

"Before you walked out the door, I asked if you were coming back." You explained further, although you were already relaxing slightly. Ale was here, she came back.

A look of realization dawned over your girlfriend's face. "I had my headphones in, amor, I did not hear you."

Now that Alexia could see where your mind had started to go, it wasn't hard to piece the rest of it together. It made sense, suddenly, why you were so upset. You'd thought Alexia had left you.

It was only seconds after that revelation that Alexia was reaching across the couch and pulling you into her arms; one wrapped tightly around your back, the other hand lacing through your hair and pushing your face into her neck. You clung tightly to her, melting into her touch.

"I would never leave you. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever. I wanted to calm down, so we could have a conversation. I should have thought that through, bebé, I am so sorry."

You shook your head against her. "I shouldn't have overreacted, it was just that you were so upset, and we never fight. You're so good, Ale, it's like I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always waiting for you to realize that you can do better. I thought you had, I thought that's why you didn't want anyone to know about us."

Alexia shut her eyes tightly. You'd meant what you'd said earlier, then, and she'd completely dismissed it. She guided you away from her, just a bit, cradling your face in her hands. She brushed your hair back out of your face, pursing her lips as she tried to figure out what to say.

"It was not an overreaction. You thought I ignored you, you thought I was leaving. I know how nervous these things make you, mi amor, I should have been clearer."

"Amor, do you think that I want to keep our relationship private because I am ashamed of you?" When Alexia said the words, it felt ridiculous. You knew it was irrational to feel the way you felt, but at the same time… your fear was all encompassing. You tried to lean away from her, preserve some of your dignity even as more tears slid down your face, but Alexia wouldn't let you. "Hey, no. Tell me, por favor.” 

“You’re you Ale. And I’m just me. I would understand if you didn’t want people to know you were with me, you should be with someone better, prettier,-” 

“Stop.” Alexia said, shaking her head frantically. She looked physically pained at your words. “Stop. You are not allowed to talk about yourself like that. You are mí niña, mí niña perfecta. I am proud that you are mine, everyday. You are the best, you are the prettiest. You are all I need, te prometo que.” The blondes eyes were wide with a desperate need for you to believe her. You wanted to. 

“Then why, Ale? Why don’t you want people to know you’re with me?” You chewed on your bottom lip when Alexia didn’t answer right away, and her thumb reached over to lightly tap it. You released your lip, tightening your grip on your girlfriend, only growing more terrified for her answer as time passed. 

“You are so perfect.” Alexia started, giving you a stern look when you shook your head on instinct. “It’s so easy with you. So easy to love you, so easy to be with you. The media complicates everything, the fans. They would say horrible things to you and about you. As long as no one knows, I can keep you safe. I can keep you mine. Just mine.” 

“Alexia, I’m not worried about that.” You assured her. 

“You should be, mi amor, I am worried about it.” Alexia emphasized, and you only really realized the stress this worry was causing her at that moment. “It would not be the first time the media has ruined a relationship, and I do not think I could survive it if I lost you.” The blonde’s voice cracked at the end of her sentence, and suddenly, she wasn’t holding you anymore, you were holding her. Cradling her face in your hands as you insistently tried to get her watery, hazel eyes to meet yours. 

“Even if the media goes crazy, even if people say mean stuff. I’ll still want you, Ale. It won’t be fun but it’s worth it. If it’s for you? It’s worth it, it’ll always be worth it.” 

Alexia let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief, burying her face in your neck. Her tears were wet against your skin, her breaths ragged and frantic. “Te amo,” she murmured. “You make me so happy, amor. If you are not worried about the media, then I will try not to be. If you want people to know, then we tell. Whatever you want, whatever you need. As long as you know that I love you, that you are perfect, that you are mine, forever. Para siempre.” 

Now you were crying, and she was still crying, as she gave you a very wet kiss, and it was entirely more emotional than either of you would have liked, but there was nothing to be done. The perfect relationship, you supposed, was one where you each thought the other to be perfect. Even if you didn’t see yourself that way, Alexia would always be there to convince you of your perfection, as you would for her.

-----

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 11 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: Hi babes!!!! I’m so happy to be back, I missed writing and interacting with yall 😭 enjoy reading my loves <3

W/C: 3.447

part ten

Jude was everywhere.

Every-fucking-where.

At home, at work, sometimes even at the clubs or bars I visited..

Every corner I turned, every morning I woke up- he had to be standing or sitting closer to my vicinity than I would have ever wanted.

I rub my eyes roughly, trying to get some food into my system before we had to start packing for the Union Berlin game in Germany. The last to secure our spot in the last 16 of the Champions League.

"Can you pass the water?"

I look up, my grumpy state worsened after hearing the annoying pest's voice.

"No.." I reply, deciding to be petty, pushing the water bottle over anyway.

We don't speak for the rest of breakfast, tensions high after having to endure each other's presence for more than a week.

I had never missed my dad's presence this much before, and my patience was running so thin- if I snapped, I wouldn't even be surprised.

I get off my chair when the doorbell rings, getting up quickly to open the door, knowing it would be my package.

I smile at the delivery driver, signing his tablet quickly, before accepting the huge package.

I slam the door closed with my leg, not being able to see where I'm going while I carry the heavy machine inside.

"Let me help.." I hear Jude perk up. I hear the paddling of his house slippers come closer, a sudden warmth grazing against my fingers.

I almost drop the heavy package in surprise, hand slipping away from the cardboard box. Eyes wide when I realize Jude's holding the package with a stable grip and ease. His face hidden behind the box.

"On the counter?" He questions, already turning and walking towards the kitchen island before I can reply.

I hurry behind him, eyes shifting over his form. Muscles protruding due to the work he's putting into placing the box on the counter.

"Thank you.."

The words feel foreign falling from my lips, only because they are directed at someone I never thought I'd simply thank.

He only replies with a small grunt, motioning to the huge box with his head, his hands going up to roll his T-shirt sleeves up.

I avert my gaze from his arms, to the package, quickly grabbing a butter knife from the kitchen cabinet.

I slide the knife through the transparent tape, directing the knife away from myself.

Standing on my tiptoes, a small noise of irritation leaves my mouth when I pull the coffee machine out of its box.

"Really? A coffee machine?" I hear Jude say, his hand reaching over to pull out the folded invoice included in the package.

"A thousand euros?!" He exclaims, looking like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

I grumble, snatching the papers out of his hands.

"I didn't pay, don't you worry.."

I wouldn't be the brightest to buy such an expensive machine with my own money, my salary wasn't exactly that much to splurge like this.

"Oh, daddy's money- got it.." He smirks, folding his arms on his chest. The white T-shirt pressing closer to his torso.

"Last night you came home with those ugly ass sneakers worth five thousand euros- don't even try it.."

I scoff, trying to glaze over the fact that I indirectly called my house, his home.

I grab the instructions of the machine, carrying it over to plug in the socket.

"Do you even know how that thing works?"

"Obviously, I'm not someone who buys seven euro lattes every damn day.."

I fill the water reservoir, inspecting the compartments carefully, then turn the machine on.

"Oh, you're so much better than me for making coffee at home.." He mocks, making me turn around, hand resting on the base of the machine absentmindedly as it warms up.

"How difficult is it for you to- fuck.."

I whip my head around, fingers stinging as hot water pours from the coffee machine. I gasp loudly, pulling my wet hand away from it rapidly.

"What did you do?" I hear Jude exclaim, he snatches my wrist, pulling me towards the sink with haste. He pulls my hand towards the faucet, allowing water to soothe my burning hand.

"Are you ever careful?!" He hisses, gripping my wrist tightly. I look up from the streaming water, confused by how frustrated he looks.

"It's fine, it wasn't that hot.." I mumble, feeling his hold tighten. I begin wiggling my hand out of his, giving him a quizzical look.

"Let go, Jude.." I add, finally getting my hand free from his iron grip.

I hear him sigh as he runs a hand down his face. He stares at me for a moment, then I watch him disappear for a moment, into the bathroom.

I take a deep breath, inspecting any changes in the skin of my fingers. Not noticing anything, I pull my hand away from the faucet. The stinging not as bad as earlier. I turn the water off, ready to walk away and grab a kitchen towel to dry my hand.

"Come here." I hear Jude say, I look up immediately, seeing him sitting at the dining table with a first aid kit. One he'd probably found while snooping around in the bathroom.

I walk over without protest, sitting next to him awkwardly. I hold my hand out, watching him treat my hand.

"It's literally not even that bad-"

"Stop talking." He deadpans, making me raise my brows. He coats my burnt skin with soothing cream, making me wince a couple times.

"Thank you.."

Again, I said it again.

I clear my throat, trying to ignore the heat creeping up to my cheeks, embarrassed by our proximity.

"We should get to packing. We have to leave in a couple hours.”

"Congratulations guys! You’ve all worked so hard.." I praise, hugging each individual player when they walk into the changing room. Patting them on the shoulder proudly.

"Rough game, wasn't it?" I ask Joselu, chuckling at his expression. The man had put his entire heart and soul into the game, giving us two goals- making his POTM title well-deserved.

"I'm so exhausted. You sure you want me for the interview?" He asks, pulling his jacket on.

I nod, motioning to Luis.

"We're ready, when you're ready.."

The interview doesn't take long, and before I knew it, we had all arrived back at our hotel. It had become a small tradition for some of the players and staff to chill in the hotel restaurant after matches, and this night was no exception.

Due to how close our team is, most of us didn't really get dressed up. We had some tea or coffee with small desserts or plates of cut-up fruit.

It was insanely cold in Berlin, obviously due to the season, and the rain wouldn't stop pouring from the sky. The heating was on in the restaurant, accompanied by the cosy fireplace right behind our table.

I check the time in the midst of listening to Federico's story about what he did during his last break. Seems like the rest of the table thinks it's hilarious, because they all burst out in laughter while I'm distracted by my phone.

My eyes water in exhaustion, and I clench my jaw in order to hold a yawn back, not trying to look annoyed or bored.

Waiting for the right timing, I get up, bidding farewell to the team, then I quickly walk into the elevator, pressing the button to my floor.

Arriving in my hotelroom, I jump onto the fluffy, soft bed, sighing in pleasure.

Though, my peace is short-lived when there is a harsh knock on my door.

I grumble, getting up annoyed- stupid enough to open the door without checking or verifying who it is.

It's no one else than Jude, a familiar-looking piece of jewelry in his palm.

"You dropped this earlier." He mutters, holding the gold bracelet out.

I hum, holding my hand out, so he can attach it back to my wrist.

I hear him scoff, smug look on his face as he looks at me, placing the bracelet on my wrist. I don't give him the satisfaction of having my attention- instead I scroll on my phone, refreshing the browser to see if my most recent test results will show up.

"No way!"

I scream, eyes going wide, as I realize I had passed all of my exams, even the one I cried about on the way home.

"What?" Jude asks, confused by the excitement in my eyes and form.

"I passed!" I shove the phone into his face, not even letting him see for a split-second until I pull my phone away and place it on the vanity.

"I passed, Jude!" I squeal again, unconsciously grabbing onto the puzzled guy’s hands. I squeeze his hand, soft skin caressing mine, while I beam with joy. Widest smile on my face as I jump up and down.

"You passed? Even though you were crying at the kitchen table all night long?"

I freeze, stopping myself from jumping again, looking up at him, surprised.

"You saw that?"

"You were making it a little too obvious.."

I scoff, looking down at our intertwined hands, immediately pulling my hand back in embarrassment. Confused about why I let my vulnerability slip so easily.

"Okay, well, you can leave if there is nothing else.." I mutter, unable to ignore the huge, smug smile on his face.

"Goodnight, y/n.." He speaks, stepping back, and I wish I could wipe that smirk off his face.

Maybe even a punch…

"Goodnight, or whatever.." I blurt, slamming the door closed in his face.

"No- don't come in.." y/n slurs, collecting her bag from the dashboard. Vision blurred and disoriented as she fidgets with the car door.

"Are you sure? You're absolutely hammered.." Luis asks, leaning over to open the door for the frazzled girl.

"Yup! All good." She replies, heels killing her feet when she steps out of the car.

"Bye!" She adds, slamming the door a little too hard, earning a yell from her best friend, before she stumbles to the front door of her house.

Nights like these are why she's happy there is a keypad on the door as well, fishing for her keys in this state would be a disaster.

She punches the numbers in quickly, hearing Luis's car drive away when she opens the door and stumbles inside.

It's not as dark inside as she'd imagined, instead, the living room lights are on. The TV blaring with a show she's unfamiliar with.

Throwing her heels off, she makes a beeline towards the couch, slumping against the soft cushions.

"y/n?" She hears a voice say, not bothering to open her eyes, she hums in response.

"You okay?" The Brum accent asks, and instantly a warm hand makes contact with her forehead.

"You're drunk." He says, stating it as a fact, rather than a question.

"I'm not drunk, let me sleep." She replies, shifting on the couch.

"You need to get cleaned up. You reek of alcohol." He urges, hand going to pull her arm up. 

"No!" She replies, gasping when she's lifted up from the couch. Opening her eyes, she clutches onto his shirt, confused by where he's bringing her.

"What are you doing?"

"You wanted to sleep, no?" He mutters cockily, slowly walking up the stairs, strong arms wrapped around her back and thighs.

She makes a small noise in exhaustion, unconsciously placing her head on his broad shoulder. Undeniably, her makeup smudges against the gray fabric of his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much, not even realizing the small grin on his own face as he places her in her bed.

He switches her bedside lamp on, happy he's not missed the bed when placing her on it in the dark.

Stepping back, he pulls the covers over her body, looking around for some specific thing. He steps closer to her vanity, looking for something similar to what his mother used to remove her own makeup.

Jude makes a small noise of satisfaction when he sees a pack of wipes, the English text on it enough to confirm it's the item he's looking for.

He turns around with the pack of wipes, stepping closer to the sleeping girl. He carefully sits on the empty side of her bed, careful not to touch her unnecessarily, grabbing a wipe, and clumsily rubbing the white towel along her face.

His face inches closer to her sleeping one, trying to remove the makeup enough so it won't stain her white pillows. He watches her eyelids and face twitch, causing a soft, fuzzy feeling to creep up into his chest.

His breath hitches when he realizes their proximity. He pulls the makeup-stained wipe away from her face, grabbing a clean one and caressing it on her soft cheek.

When her face is wiped clean, he pulls back, chest thumping with an unwelcome feeling. A soft sigh leaves his plump lips, he runs a hand down his face. Grabbing the edge of her warm blanket, placing it on her, causing her to shift a little in her slumber.

A familiar feeling of déjà vu passes through his senses, a soft grunt coming from the sleeping girl next to him. 

He pauses his movements, eyes roaming on her sleeping face, before he gets up from her bed. Leaving the lamp on as he hurriedly walks out of her room. Accidentally taking the pack of wipes with him, and forgetting to close her door in his sudden hurry.

December in Madrid was something Jude was slowly getting used to. Although nothing could compare to the weather in Birmingham and Dortmund he'd gotten familiar with over the years. 

It’s only hours later, past three in the morning, when he's awoken by pain in his shoulder. It had been bothering him for weeks now, but he was insisting on playing.

Even if it meant that he had to wear a personalized shoulder brace and had to take injections to combat the pain during important games. 

His move to Madrid was no doubt a big one, with the entirety of the football world looking at how the 100 million-euro transfer would start his first season at Real Madrid.

To Jude, even a dislocated shoulder could not hold him back from delivering his best performance. 

Sitting up from the bed he had been calling his own, for the past few weeks, he looks around the dark room. Rain trickling out of the dark clouds and harshly hitting the huge windows of his room. 

Jude gets up from the comfort of the warm bed, pulling his shirt off to check his shoulder. He had been wearing his brace regularly, but sometimes it would be so uncomfortable that he had to take it off in the middle of the night. 

He unbuckles the belt that’s secure on his chest, expensive material soft to the touch as he slides the black brace off carefully. A soft grunt of pain leaves his mouth as he throws it to the other side of the bed. 

Pulling his slippers on and opening the door of his room, he can only see light emitting from y/n's room. Her bedroom door open since he had forgotten to close it earlier. 

He averts his gaze from her room, ready to go downstairs to grab a cup of water. Though, he stops dead in his tracks when he hears noise coming from her room. A soft whimper, accompanied by the rustle of her movements. 

Not another thought runs through his head before he makes a beeline into her room. He walks past her door, her body visibly restless underneath her blanket. He stands next to her bed awkwardly, moving his face closer to inspect the scrunch of her brows, displaying the distress on her face. 

"y/n.." He begins, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He lifts his hand, moving his hand to her cheek, touching it tenderly with his thumb. Trying to rouse her from her sleep. Though, seems like it doesn’t work, especially since her face twitches again. 

"Hey! Wake up.." Jude whisper-shouts, not even realizing or asking himself what he is trying to accomplish. 

"Fucking hell. What am I even trying to do." He curses to himself, moving his hand to her shoulder again. She’s still dressed in her clubbing outfit from last night, causing his hand to make immediate contact with her bare shoulder. 

"Mom.." A sudden whisper leaves her lips, full of raw emotion and sadness. A ragged breath follows, the tremble of her lip visible in the dim light next to them. 

Jude immediately halts all of his movements, his breath hitches in surprise. He had never heard her or others around her utter a single word about her mother. It was always about her father or one of her aunts. 

Jude was never curious about it for some reason. He had many friends whose parents weren’t together or single. Her only having her father in her life, or to the extent he’d seen- wasn’t all that surprising until this very moment. 

"Don't go..." Another whimper, followed by an audible, strangled sob, tears glistening in the corners of her closed eyes. 

He had never felt this confused and helpless before. Feeling his chest tighten, he leans over her body, moving to sit next to her on the bed. With one last shake of her shoulders, he tries to wake her up from her horror-filled dream. 

"y/n!" He shouts this time, voice echoing along with the rainfall outside, his brows furrowed in worry. 

y/n's eyes snap open in shock, mouth falling open, only for her lips to tremble.

Tears fill her eyes, the only thing visible to her: Jude's concerned face. 

Picking up on her sudden shock, his arms snake around her back, allowing her to sit up and breathe. 

"You’re fine, it was just a dream.." He says softly, eyes focused on her face. Instead of his words soothing her, tears start falling down her cheeks, breath unsteady as sobs fall from her lips. 

His eyes widen, her state blind-siding him.

Yes, he had seen her cry once or twice before, but this- this was different. The girl's face was absolutely clad in pain and sadness.

It made his heart and soul shatter, blood running cold at the sight. 

"Hey.. Look at me.." He mutters, hand reaching up to her chin. His fingers graze her skin, gently but firmly lifting her head to make eye contact with her wet eyes. 

She faces him, cheeks and lashes wet from tears. Eyes bloodshot, as her lips tremble uncontrollably. Jude's eyes soften, brows scrunching in more concern. 

"y/n-" He tries to call out to her to further ground her, though a soft gasp leaves his mouth when she practically launches herself into his hold.

Her trembling body pressed against his naked chest, shaky arms wrapped around his back. 

Her forehead collides with his collarbone, to his luck, not against his injured shoulder. His arms fall against his side in bewilderment, mouth falling open for a moment. Only her soft sobs audible next to the raging storm outside. 

Her nails claw against his bare back, not realizing the slight pain she’s causing him through her sheer desperation of wanting to feel safe and grounded. 

Jude can feel his skin burning up. Of course, he had his fair share of subtle or intimate touches with other women. A hug, a kiss- whatever it had been- his body had never gone this rigid before.

He's pulled out of his thoughts by her nonstop sobbing. Getting his courage and shit together, and pushing his shock away- he lifts his hand from his side, sliding his arms around her back, pulling her body flush against his. 

"You're okay. You’re safe..." He mumbles, fingers rubbing her nape soothingly, other hand pressing her face closer against his chest. 

"I'm here, y/n.." The unfamiliar sentence leaves his mouth with a shaky breath, her sobbing continuing all through his sweet words. 

He's absolutely certain, that if she were fully conscious and not crying her heart out- she'd be able to hear the stupid thundering of his heart, maybe it would be even louder than the storm outside. 

He also knows that this feeling has been brewing in his chest like a damn F5 tornado for the past few weeks.

Causing incredible damage to his heartstrings and confusion to his feelings and thoughts...

[within-your-eyes-if]

April 1st Progress Update

Hello everyone!

First, this update isn't an April's Fools joke, as much as I wish it were. Secondly, maintaining a level of transparency is important to me. It lets you all understand where I'm at and what to expect. With that, I apologize there was no March update.

In my last update, I hinted at some hardships in my life, and things were looking better. Unfortunately, sometimes life tends to kick you down when you're trying to get back up, and that's what happened not long after that update. This time, however, it took a heavy toll. I really tried, but I could not get back up on my own this time.

I had to step away for the most part and work on healing. I'm genuinely starting to feel better now, with each day being a little clearer and brighter than the last. Writing is slowly becoming easier again, which is a huge relief. It's strange how little time has passed, yet it feels years away.

As I believe I've stated before, I have no intentions of abandoning my story; this still rings true. There's just a regret I lost the momentum I gained.

Progress hasn't been at a complete standstill, and I'm still slowly working on drafts. It's hard to explain without delving into personal details — know I'm trying my hardest. I'm unsure what the word count is at the time of writing this, as I'm still going over and refining it. However, I have finished a few more scenes and I'm nearing the finish line.

Lastly, I'm sorry I disabled the asks. There are quite a few I need to catch up on, but answering was, and has always been, hard for me. I'll probably put together a FAQ post in the next few days (as well as finish a certain post I've been neglecting). Anyway, I hope to enable asks again in the near future.

Thank you all once again for your incredible patience. I'm sorry if this update isn't what you hoped for. Regardless, I hope Part Two is well worth the wait!

[coldfanbou]

Internal Massage

Ryujin massage time. This fic relates to stress reliever acting as a sequel of sorts. Also Ryujin anal.

Length 2K

Ryujin x Mreader

Previous Part

Stretching her neck as she walked in the door, Ryujin grabbed the thin white bra and panties that were on the table. She went to the changing room and stripped off her clothes before putting on the massage wear. "Hey, I'm feeling really sore. I'm going to need you to be a little stronger this time." She says behind the changing room door.

"Of course, Ryujin. I had Chaeryeong in here earlier, you know."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, it was her first session."

"She must have been really nervous," Ryujin says with a laugh.

"She was, but she enjoyed it; she even asked me to help her in the shower."

Ryujin comes out of the changing room, her brown nipples poking through the thin fabric and her short bush visible through her panties. Knowing the routine, Ryujin climbs onto the table, facing up. She shuts her eyes as you walk to a counter in the back to refill your oil bottle. "So besides my using more strength, are we keeping the rest the same?" You ask her.

"Let's try a different oil, I like the usual one, but I want something different today." As the words trickle into your ear, you finish refilling the bottle you used earlier. You place it on the table and look at your other options; there are many scents, some with different effects. You pick up one that contains some aphrodisiacs and smile. As you return to the table, you shake the bottle before dripping some onto Ryujin's legs. They shake slightly as the cold oil touches her skin. You apply some to your hands, thoroughly covering them. 

Beginning your massage, you hold Ryujin's foot slowly, twisting it to the left before moving it back to the right. "Oh yeah, just like that." Ryujin coos. You do the same to her other foot before moving to her thick thighs. You press your thumbs into the center of her thighs before moving outwards. You start at the bottom before slowly making your way up. Quickly her thighs become covered in the aphrodisiac oil. Wanting to get her inner thigh, you move her leg outward off the table. Grabbing the oil bottle, you drip some onto her panties; they become transparent, and her bush is easier to see. Slowly but surely, you move toward her cunt. "I missed this." Ryujin moans as she feels your fingers spread her lips apart. You trace her folds before sliding two fingers into her. She gasps and grips the table as you push your finger deep into her. Curling them inside her, you drag them out slowly, hitting her G-spot and making her thrust her hips upward instinctively. "Fuck" she says quietly as she tries to lower her hips.

"Calm down, Ryujin; we're just starting." You say, laughing.

"You used the aphrodisiac, didn't you?" 

"You caught me."

"I knew it; my body feels so hot." Ryujin bites her bottom lip as you push your fingers back into her. "I really want you to get to the internal massage already. My pussy feels so hot." 

"I'm glad you feel that excited about the internal massage, but you'll have to wait."

"No…fuck" Ryujin moans as she feels you hit her g-spot again. Her body tries to raise her hips, but Ryujin resists. You pull out your fingers and show Ryujin how wet she is. She opens her mouth, "please?" She asks. You smile and let her suck on your fingers. The oil coats her throat, making her even hornier. "Shit, can we please get to the good part?" She begs of you.

"No, can do Ryujin. We have to get through the massage." You say as you pull your fingers out of her mouth and move down her other leg. You place a lot of pressure on her thighs. Ryujin lets her moans flow out of her as she feels you handle her roughly. She tries to slide her hand under the panties, but you slap it away. "Patience, Ryujin."

"Easy for you to say; you're not the one covered in this stuff." She says as you move onto her upper body. You pour more of the oil onto her and begin massaging her sides. At a snail's pace, you eventually reach her breasts. Sliding your hands under the bra, you fondle her tits. Her moans grow louder as you place her nipples between your index and middle fingers and squeeze them. Ryujin looks at you with eyes full of lust. "Please? I really need it."

"You'll have to wait; it'll feel even better when we get there." You say as you let go of Ryujin's nipple and cup her breast. You shake it and watch it jiggle behind the sheer bra. You see a thin layer of sweat as you look at Ryujin's face. You smile, seeing her struggle to keep herself composed. You leave her breasts and work on her arms, massaging her thin but muscular arms. As you reach her hand, you place it on your crotch. "Is this what you want?" You ask her. Ryujin nods her head excitedly. "You're not the only one suffering here, Ryujin. A small bit of this oil is enough to make someone very aroused." You feel her hand squeeze your cock through your clothes. You enjoy it for a moment before taking her hand away. Moving to stand by her head, you hold onto it and turn it to the side before turning it the other way. You don't pay much attention to that area. "Turn around for me." You command. 

Ryujin turns onto her stomach. Having Ryujin's head by your crotch, you drop your pants. She opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. You slap your cock on her tongue a few times and leave it just out of reach. Her tongue extends as far as it can and is barely able to lick the tip of your cock. You push your hips forward, properly putting your cock in Ryujin's mouth. You hear her muffled moans as she finally gets what she wants. Letting her enjoy herself,  you put some oil on her back and massage it thoroughly, applying firm pressure. Occasionally you hear a slight pop as you press on her back, but Ryujin is too focused on your cock to notice. Her tongue surrounds your shaft, lapping at the sides before moving toward the tip. Occasionally, you thrust your hips and send your cock into the back of Ryujin's throat. You feel the warm tightness of it as it flexes and relaxes. Once your cock begins to throb, you pull it out of Ryujin's mouth. She tilts her head back to look at you. "Just a little longer?"

"Sorry, but I have a job to do." Your hand glides over Ryujin's body as you make your way to her calves. You rub her calves at first before switching to chopping at them. Ryujin coos as she feels the tightness in her calves melts away. After you're done, you move up to the back of her thighs and repeat the process. As you reach her ass, you start groping it, squeezing the soft flesh. You stop briefly to cover your hands in more oil before you spread Ryujin's cheeks. Seeing her asshole, you prod it with your finger before pushing it in. 

"No, not there." Ryujin moans before she begins to feel the heat in her ass. You scrape her walls as you pull out before you add a second finger and push in deeper. "Ah! Please." 

"Please, what?" You respond as you pull and push your fingers in again. 

"I-I need something bigger." Ryujin cries. She spreads her ass for you. "Please, put it in."

"But I thought you didn't want it there." You tell her with a smirk. 

"I-"

"You don't need to say anything. I understand." You remove your clothing before lathering your cock in oil. Climbing onto the table, you press your cock against Ryujin's asshole and begin pushing it inside. 

"Fuck, you're too big," Ryujin moans as she feels the head of your cock stretch her asshole. You continue pushing forward, her walls providing much resistance and pleasure as they squeeze your cock. You pull out a little before ramming your cock further in. "Oh god! It's going to split me apart!" She yells as you finish burying your cock inside her. Feeling that you've stopped moving, Ryujin lays her head down. You raise your hips, pulling your cock out, and wait for a second before slamming your weight down on Ryujin and impaling her. She gasps as she feels your cock stir her insides. You start thrusting quickly, not allowing her to recover from the shock. "Harder! Fuck me harder!" She moans. You tear off the thin bra and sneak your hands under Ryujin, playing with her nipples as you fuck her from behind. You feel her ass gripping you tightly, refusing to let go, and you love it. Her big ass provided you some cushion as you slammed your cock into her insides. She might be sore the next day, but she'll be more than happy to feel that way.

It felt as if Ryujin was sucking you in with every thrust. "You can cum whenever you like." You whisper to her. Ryujin moans, and you can feel her ass tighten around your cock. You pinch her nipples and bury your cock inside her as she screams, "I'm cumming!" You feel her body shake as she cums on the table. You continue to thrust until you feel your balls tighten and cock throbs in her ass. 

"Here I come, Ryujin." You growl as you impale her ass and flood it with your cum. You thrust lightly as you fill her ass. Pulling out, you feel Ryujin's ass refuse to let you go. When you do pull out, you hear a small pop and watch as your cum oozes out of her gaping asshole. It opens and closes as she breathes. You spank Ryujin once before walking over to her head. Her eyes are half-lidded as you place your cock on her face. She slowly opens her mouth and begins suckling on the tip of your cock, cleaning up your cum. Placing a hand on her head, you slowly thrust, putting more in her mouth until the entire thing is in. Ryujin's tongue runs along the underside of your cock as she lays there, tired. "You did great restraining yourself, Ryujin. Didn't it feel much better when I finally put it in?"

Ryujin's head nods up and down slowly. "It felt better," she mumbles. 

"I'm going to give you another reward Ryujin; make sure you don't spill a drop," you say as you thrust a little faster. Your second orgasm builds quickly. As soon as Ryujin feels your cock throbbing, she prepares herself and is rewarded by being able to drink the thick salty liquid without a problem. As you pull out, you leave your cockhead by Ryujin, and she kisses it. You leave her side and begin cleaning up the area. Ryujin remains on the table for a few minutes before picking herself up and leaning on the table. 

"I need some help getting to the shower." She says while looking at you.

"Of course," you respond while heading her way. You hold onto Ryujin's ass, occasionally sliding a finger into her still gaping asshole as you walk her to the room's shower. The thin panty she still had on did little to keep your cum from seeping out onto the floor. She moans each time you touch her and thanks you as she sits in the bath. 

"It might be hard for me to clean myself up, considering I can't stand by myself. Would you help me?" She asks with a smirk. 

"You Itzy girls all love shower sex, don't you?" Ryujin smiles and laughs at your response.

"Just get in here."

[kunikukitty]

✐ Always An Artist, Never The Muse

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader

xi. covet

The last time you held a pencil was a couple of months ago, and it was used for shading your answers in exam.

You prepared yourself mentally before going here, yet you really cannot run away for too long.

You thought that messaging Mona would atleast ease your nerves, but it's no use, you're still overwhelmed. Being inside an art studio where you're surrounded by different types and brands of mediums is surely taking a toll on your mind.

You're tempted to pick up something, whatever it is, anything could be used to create strokes and form a shape.

But you can't. The materials not being yours is one thing, but the fact that it might cause you to actually give up on art. Because yes, you still have hope, you are still wishing for that talent to magically come back to you, just not yet.

You remember the times of your frustration. A blank paper awaits in front of you to be filled with yet another masterpiece. With a flick of your wrist, you guided your pencil to leave an ink behind. You did it a few more times, but it's not turning out good.

Erase, draw, erase and draw.

The lines ain't making sense, the paper is almost ripped due to the continuous erasing. You're beginning to lose your patience, the image in your head is turning blurry. The more you try to correct the mistake, the worse they get. It is the only thing you're capable of doing, so you have to finish it. You cannot fail.

Silly you thought it was just an artblock, and you told yourself that you cannot have that now. You have to fight it. You have to create something. You did not allow yourself to rest until you manage to draw something pretty.

You tried, tried and tried again and again. Until your hand stopped moving and your creativity dried up.

You remember how your wrists, fingers, and inside your head feels like there's something so itchy internally that you cannot soothe.

"What are you doing?"

You were surprised that you almost let out a gasp. You looked over to the door to see Scaramouche looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "I suggest not to steal anything, I have all of my materials memorized."

The gasp now left your mouth. "Are you accusing me of thievery?!"

He simply shrugged, and when he put down something that's when you noticed he's holding a tray, with food in it.

"Wow, I didn't expect you're the type to give food to your guests."

"Yeah, right? Shocking. Especially to you? I'm too kind." He rolled his eyes at you. "Quick. Eat now so we can start."

"Oh wait, you mean... you'll paint me eating?"

"You just confirmed my assumption of you. You're pretty stupid." He remained indifferent while you glare at him. "I told you I'm too kind, didn't I? I'm letting you eat before making you stay still."

'Oh yes, of course of course...' you muttered irritably under your breath as you walked towards the table where he placed the tray. He managed to hear them, even heard his name being cursed—a predictable response from you, really.

Nonetheless, you're thankful. Although you aren't on good terms(but not really much on bad terms either) with each other, he still prepared something for you. He can choose not to, but he did. Not to mention, you are indeed hungry right now.

You look at the plate and it's a... jelly? Transparent too, but you can't make out what's inside. The most dominant color is light brown, and theres some orange, yellow, white— maybe it's a gelatin cake? You've only seen those in videos, where they decorate floral designs and whatnots inside the gelatin. This jelly is not as pretty, though.

You took the spoon he prepared and sliced a small piece, and the texture inside interests you. The spoon glides easily unto it yet at the middle part it gets a little hard— and inside the brown part is white. You took a closer look by bringing the spoon close to your face, the closeness made the scent of it go through your nostrils.

By the look of it, it seems like a— wait... is that...

"Is this meat??? Inside a jelly?!" You were appalled. Is this a joke? Is this a prank? Your eyes are wide open as you looked at him, stunned.

"What?" He clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "That's a traditional snezhnayan dish, kholodets. How rude of you to react that way."

Wait, what? "Oh." You calm yourself. Right, you're in a different country, their cuisine is different from your homeland. Now you feel bad from reacting like that, it's no different from his earlier statements about blind people, you think.

Not wanting to stoop down his level, you fixed your composure and sat straight. "Right, sorry." you say with seemingly matured tone, putting the spoon down.

"I even chose carefully what to serve you, especially after I heard from Caps that you're a picky eater." He said, shaking his head and clicking his tongue again repeatedly. He looked so disappointed, too.

You may dislike him, that's true, but you're a person with morals. You don't like upsetting people unless you're purposely doing so.

So took the spoon again in your hand, the little piece still in the scoop, then you brought it into your mouth.

Your eyebrows contort in disgust as you taste the unfamiliar food. Boiled meat with meaty jelly, complex seasoning and unusual flavor— you don't understand. The jelly... is it supposed to be the broth? It doesn't go well, in your opinion. Disturbing, for you.

Amidst your evaluation of the taste, your ears caught on a quiet chuckle.

You turn your head, only to see Scaramouche looking down at you as if belittling you.

"So it's true," he starts, "for foreigners, kholodets is unappetizing at first glance. I really thought you wouldn't give it a taste, but you did. How surprising."

The face you make is that of someone who just got betrayed. He doesn't even look like a snezhnayan himself! You forced to swallow the bits in your mouth, "You..!"

The remaining chance for your relation with him to be amended is completely gone now. How dare he? You regret playing nice with him. Men are truly atrocious beings. How can Capitano even tolerate this guy?

You're utterly shock. And how did the fucker react now? Giggling, like an ass. He looks too amused, in fact.

While he's in a laughing state, you took the time to drink water.

"Glad to give you fun. Didn't know you're so childish."

He shrugged, unaffected. "You won't eat anymore?"

His sarcastic smile is annoying you. You really shouldn't had agreed to this. "It was so delicious Im already full at first bite. Thank you very much."

You watch him take a round brush and sit sit on the stool with the canvas im front of him. He looked at you, "Come on." he said, pointing at the other stool.

You rolled your eyes before obeying. "Pose?"

"Arms up."

"Fuck you."

He chuckled again and you're beginning to dislike the sound of it. "Try Mona Lisa's."

You crossed your legs elegantly and straighten your back. You faced left a little, mimicked her hands in your memories, and... should you smile too?

"Is Da Vinci your fave artist?"

...Fuck.

You want to slap your mouth at this very moment. That was out of instinct, you guess. You like asking artists you meet their favorite historical artist— well, before.

No, it's alright. Knowing Da Vinci is a basic knowledge, even non-artists knows that. You shouldn't think too much.

"What if I say it's Picasso?"

You don't know how to react to his answer. Would it be obvious that you're an (ex) artist if you react as if you know?

You remember how confused Itto was when he learned that not many artists like Picasso. He's dumb though... but still!

Should you act confused too? Should you act knowledgeable?

You glanced at his artworks on the wall with your peripheral vision, who could he be inspired of? However, when you looked at him again, he's paying attention to his canvas.

Maybe he doesn't care. Good, good. Stay that way.

Wait... His hand is moving. He started now, yet he hasn't told you to smile yet, should your expression remain fierce?

Okay, now you're nervous again. Does your face look asymmetrical? Can he see the texture of your face at this distance? The corner of your eyes do not have gound, right? You want to lick your lips but you're not sure if you should move. It's not chapped, right? You only applied light make up, it's not too much, right?

"Relax." You heard him say. It felt like you were allowed to breathe again.

Right, right. Relax. This is another one of your reasons why tou dislike being a muse, you feel awkward! What are you so nervous of, anyway? This man, asshole one at that?

He doesn't deserve your kindness anyway. You may make funny faces to tick him off, you couldn't care less.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. You don't know how much time passed but you guess the painting is going smoothly. It doesn't seem like he's struggling nor does he look stressed.

But what matter is... how long is this going to take?!

You, personally, it takes so much time to finish a painting. Hell— you don't think you were able to finish a piece in just one day.

"Can't you just take a picture of me?"

Not being able to move too much is annoying for most people, you're not an exception. You're an impatient person, too. And you're still on a stool, too!

One word, tiring.

"That defeats the purpose."

Your eyes narrowed and your lips curled inwards. "Everything has evolved, we're in modern world."

"Besyashchaya devushka." You didn't understand what he muttered under his breath. "Shut up and stay still, fix your expression."

There's no point in convincing him, you realize.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. Being in this room is surely annoying. The emotions you've been trying to reject ever since you step foot in here is resurfacing much stronger now. Especially now that you have nothing to distract yourself and there's an artist painting in front of you.

You miss it— holding a brush, the feeling of relaxation when the process is going well, the challenge of drawing the reference...

You miss all of it. You want to paint again.

"Fix your expression."

You were taken aback of his words. He noticed the slightest change, he must be really paying attention. Artists are truly amazing, aren't they?

Scaramouche. That's his name, right?

He's rich, he can buy as many materials a he like. Based on this studio; he can sculpt, paint, draw with charcoals, color with different types of mediums.

This could've been your life too if you didn't stop drawing, you think. But no. He's much more capable and skillful.

Come to think of it, you never even hang your works on the walls of your house. You don't even have many finished artworks, and the finished ones aren't that beautiful.

You heard him click his tongue. "I told you to fix your expression, don't I? If you're eager for this to be done as soon as possible, then do as I say."

"When did you began to draw?"

"None of your business." He glared at you, "Look, if you have time to kill, waste is somewhere else. Don't start a chitchat with me, I don't have all day."

Wow. Now he's the one annoyed, when he was the one who wasted time earlier by making you eat something he know you wouldn't like? He's funny.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. After a while, it was done. You checked the time and it has only been two hours and a couple of minutes that passed ever since he started.

That was fast.

"Can I see it?" When he nodded, you immediately approached the painting.

Honestly, you were expecting it to be a little messy in style with some defined parts since it was just done in two hours. But the painting is a perfect copy of you, as if he took a picture of you. The only blurred part is the background, and your entire image is refined. He caught everything in perfect precision.

Is this even humanly possible? Two hours is too short for this.

You take back what you thought earlier. This could've been your life too? You wanted to laugh at yourself. Compared to him, your level is way too low— even if it's the you from before.

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taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej @eutopiastar @keiiqq @bananasquash @kuniisvt @tamikahoshiko @scaraenthusiast1 @sketcheeee @xxrougefangxx @luciledreamz @icomeheretolaughnottofeel @sereniteav @lily-lmao @h3xi2g0n3 (i cant tag those in bold)

note. i searched the worst rated russian food and interviewed some russians for this okay, don't come at me (for this ill share something in my country that foreigns would find disgusting— a cup of coffee poured in rice!)

[wrathfulrook]

Traitor

Patience has feelings for John and picks him over the resistance. It doesn't go well for her.

A stand-alone in the oneshot collection, In Which Bad Things Happen to Junior Deputy Patience Ekner.

Ship: John Seed x Patience Ekner (deputy oc) [unrequited]

Rating: M

Word count: ~2.5k

Read it on ao3.

He almost hadn’t gone with her. Why would he? But in the end, it hadn’t been up to him.

John wasn’t sure whether he was more surprised to see the deputy in his home, or more irritated that she managed to get inside unnoticed. Actually, she seemed more surprised to see him, as if it wasn’t his own house. Though, John was a bit of an insomniac, so perhaps her surprise was more that he was fully dressed and walking around nearing three in the morning.

In any case, both overcame any surprise when she became panicked and desperate, begging him to leave with her.

“You don’t understand,” she’d pleaded, her face reddening. “They’re coming for you. You have no idea what they plan to do to you!”

He’d laughed at that. The only member of the resistance he was worried about was her, and he certainly didn’t intend to go off with her, not even if this supposed ambush was real. Which of course, it wasn’t, because why on earth would she try to save him from her own people?

The resistance must truly be getting desperate in order to try something so pathetically transparent.

But, then he heard the explosions, the gunfire, the shouts, on the far end of his property. Her eyes had widened as if in terror and her pleading began anew. Well, then, perhaps an ambush was occurring. But what was her game?

He hadn’t even seen her swinging the table lamp at him.

When he woke, he was sprawled across the dingy, pilling sofa in some prepper’s tiny bunker. The lighting was fluorescent and dim and the air stale. And the deputy was pacing anxiously, her long braided ponytail disheveled, her pale, freckled face looking even whiter than usual. A handheld radio was held tightly in her grip, the plastic visibly biting into her skin. She twisted the knob compulsively, flipping between multiple channels, each one broadcasting a similar message in a different voice.

Deputy, come in Deputy – Patience? Are you there? – Please respond, Deputy – Come in…

So this wasn’t part of the resistance’s plan, then. She had, in fact, gone AWOL to save him.

The deputy screamed in frustration and threw her radio at the concrete wall, cracking the plastic shell to reveal the metal and wire viscera inside.

John laughed. “My, my, what a predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.”

She whirled to face him, her blonde braid whipping around behind her. Her face softened, her grey eyes widening when she saw him awake. And, oh, but he couldn’t help but smile smugly. Was she truly that easy? Had it really only taken a bit of charm and flirtation interspersed among his radio threats to make her look at him like that?

She rushed to his side. “Are you hurt?”

“From where you hit me over the head, you mean?” he asked, one eyebrow arched in smug disbelief. “I’ll be fine. I doubt the same could be said about you, though.”

John stood up, ignoring the pounding headache and what was surely a goose egg on the back of his head. He supposed he was lucky the moony woman hadn’t accidentally killed him with that blow.

“What will you do now, my dear?” he taunted her, one hand coming up to caress her cheek. She actually leaned into his touch, the poor fool. And as easily as he touched her, he even more easily pulled it away. “What are you going to do now that you’ve betrayed the resistance so thoroughly, stealing me away in the night before they could get me in their grips? I doubt they’ll forgive you…”

She was breathing heavily, her heart racing in obvious panic.

“We’ll stay here a few days. Just until the search for either of us dies down a bit. And then you can go back the cul- the Project. This bunker had been abandoned for a while when I found it and I never told anyone about it; you’ll be safe here for now.”

He nodded, still smiling in disbelief at his luck.

“And will you come with me when I go? Will you finally Confess and Atone and quit your sinful crusade against our holy work? I’m sure you’d be able to find your purpose, once your sin had been exposed and absolved.”

The deputy shook her head no, adamant in her stubborn resolve. “I will never join the cult.”

“It isn’t a cult, my dear.

“But, then, why save me? You won’t come to the Project; you can’t go back to the resistance. You have nowhere to go. So, why did you do it?”

There was a tense silence, a flash of fear punctuating the tender look in her eyes. “I couldn’t let them do that to you. What they planned- you have no idea…”

“Tell me.”

She shook her head again, face reddening in an effort not to tear up. In reaction to her current circumstances? Or in reaction to the idea of some horrible fate befalling him?

“Tell me,” he demanded again.

“They wanted- well, I’m assuming you know Matthew 7:12?”

“Of course.” He arched an eyebrow in pleasant surprise that this heathen woman had at least a passing familiarity with scripture. “‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’”

“Well, that’s what they wanted.” Her gaze hardened. “They wanted to eviscerate you and fill your hollowed out torso with bliss flowers. They wanted to wrap your body in barbed wire and suspend it from the rafters of the Henbane bridge for all to see. They wanted to stake your hands together and drive antlers through your skull, a real ‘greatest hits’ the corpses you and yours have displayed.”

She was practically shaking with raw anger at that point. Whether at the resistance for planning such a fate for him, or at him for not taking her seriously, John couldn’t tell. In any case, he grinned.

“Oh?” he asked nonchalantly. “How macabre. Why didn’t you let them? I know you think I deserve it.”

“No.” Patience was firm and decisive in her answer. How adorable. How pathetic. “No, I do not think anyone deserves any of the shit you do to them, and I certainly don’t want to turn around and do it to you. I’m a cop. I didn’t sign up for torture; I didn’t sign up for executions.”

How rich. The young woman had killed so many faithful he doubted she could even keep count. No, he knew this wasn’t about her supposed fidelity to the legal system.

He reached his hand out again, noting the flash of something in her eyes, and gently gripped her chin, tilting her face up towards his. She let him.

“No, no. You’ve taken your wrath out on my brothers and sisters time and time again. Don’t try to play ‘good cop’ now. You’re not fooling me, my dear. That’s not why you saved me. Tell me the truth.”

Her eyes flashed fear. She was so obvious. Was this truly the best the resistance had to offer?

“It’s not that you wouldn’t let them do that,” he continued. “It’s that you wouldn’t let them do that to me. And I want you to tell me why.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A lie. She continued to let him hold her face, her freckled cheeks dusted with pink. Embarrassment? Lust?

“Oh, yes, you do. It’s painfully obvious. You wear your heart on your sleeve, don’t you, my dear?” When her eyes widened in outrage at the accusation, he soothed her by gently stroking his thumb over her cheek, mocking in his eyes. “It’s alright… I’m flattered. Don’t worry, I’ll keep your little crush a secret.”

Rage flashed in her eyes, and she forcefully shoved him back. “You’re talking out of your ass, Seed.”

John smiled smugly and offered up his hands as if in surrender. She certainly was easy to read.

“Alright, alright,” he humored her. “If not that, then why? Why save me from your own people? And don’t try pulling that good cop routine with me again. You don’t intend to Atone, but you certainly can’t go back to the resistance. By saving me, you painted a huge target on yourself. You’re all alone… no allies, no friends… Whatever will you do?”

“Oh, shut the hell up.”

John took a step closer to her, noting how she made no moves to step back or otherwise keep the distance between them. He kept his facial expression steady, despite the amusement that observation provided him.

“Why did you save me?”

Her brows furrowed – stress, fear, overwhelming emotion.

“I don’t know.”

He closed the distance between them once again, but kept his hands to himself for now.

“Of course you do. You saved me at great personal expense. There’s no reason to do that. Well… no reason but the one.”

He smiled down at her, almost sweetly. Her lips parted slightly and she inhaled with a nearly inaudible stuttering gasp. But John was an observant man. He pressed his advantage by placing a steadying hand on her waist, affecting a quiet, intimate tone as he spoke.

“You care for me, don’t you?”

She didn’t reply.

“More than just care,” he continued. “You’ve essentially traded your life for mine. There’s no way the resistance will let you live after what you’ve done. But you know that, don’t you? You’re no fool, Deputy. You knew what you were doing… trading your life for that of the man you love.”

His eyes flickered across her face, tight and red. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was- shame, anger, grief? He looked down at her, studying her features. The dark circles under her eyes, the unkempt flyaways escaping her braid, the heavy scent of campfire smoke that permeated her clothes and hair… He took it all in with a clinical detachment.

And he wondered what she was taking in about him. Probably the sharp scent of his cologne, the body heat rolling off of him, the weight of his hand on her waist... Though, he doubted there was any sort of detachment between Patience and her observations of him.

“Because you do love me, don’t you?”

She said nothing, face growing redder.

He smirked down at her, hand flexing, gripping her waist. “I barely had to do anything, did I? I didn’t even have to try. A little attention, a little flirting, and here you are. Falling on your sword and betraying your own people for-“

Patience lashed out and slapped him across the face.

He stepped back in stunned surprise, hand coming up to soothe his stinging cheek. And then his eyes narrowed as a hot wave of anger came over him. John couldn’t deny the little thrill he got from seeing the flash of fear in her eyes as he pinned her to the wall with a hand on her throat, careful and controlled enough not to crush her windpipe, but firm enough to hold her in place.

“You little…” he hissed down at her before wrangling his fury under control. “Did that make you feel better? Did it make you feel good, knowing you hit the man you love just to make sure he takes you seriously? Hm? You’re a pathetic little girl, Deputy. You think a little slap is going to make me feel bad about what I say?

“Well, I hope it did make you feel better, because guess what? None of it matters. You threw your life away for me. Your own people will hunt you down and slaughter you like an animal for your betrayal. And you made that choice. For me.”

Her face was beet red with the effort to hold back her tears, but he didn’t stop. Why would he? She had saved him from certain doom and crippled the resistance by knocking out herself as their figurehead, all in one fell swoop. The sadistic and pleasurable rush of power he felt right then was intoxicating, and he had no intention of ending it anytime soon.

“It’s pathetic how easy you made this all for me. And despite it all, I bet you’d still give anything for me to hold you in my arms, to kiss away your tears… is that it?” His laugh was biting. “And you don’t regret it at all do you? You’d save me again, wouldn’t you?”

She didn’t answer and didn’t meet his eyes, so he harshly gripped her chin and made her meet his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“…yes.”

“Yes,” he repeated smugly. “You would.”

His long fingers traced over her plush lips, and she nearly melted under his attentions. Pathetic.

“Oh, Deputy, I’d have enjoyed you very much. Such a beautiful, young woman, so desperate to please me.” He smirked. “I can only imagine how much I would have loved that.”

The look of desperation in her eyes, it was so simultaneously ego-boosting and pitiful to John.

He scoffed as he took his hands off her and stepped away with a cold smile.

“But lust is a sin. And unlike you, I’m no sinner.”

~

John had left without incident. Patience had stayed. But the bunker had been abandoned for a reason. How long could she hide there until she ran out of supplies? He kept his ear to the ground, waiting to hear of any incidents involving the deputy. But he still hadn’t heard of any sightings. She was laying low.

He opened up his front door, breathing in the crisp morning air. But as he took a step out, he stumbled over something, sloshing hot coffee out of his mug and onto the deputy’s face below.

As he looked down at her strewn across his doorstep, he raised a single eyebrow, partially in surprise, and partially in irritation that his useless men had allowed anyone to get so close to his house. He took a sip of the scalding coffee as his eyes scanned over her body. The note pinned to her jacket caught his attention. FOR JOHN, written in bold script. He ripped the note from her and unfolded the torn paper, reading the message inside.

Here's your whore back.

He snorted in amusement. So, the resistance had caught up with her after all. ‘His whore.’ Interesting. Had they assumed the foolish woman’s feelings were mutual? Idiots. She’d done a lot for their cause. Likely would have continued to, if they hadn’t taken her out.

John contemplatively looked her over as he sipped at his morning cup of joe, admiring the theatrics of their work. On her forehead was the Project’s cross, clearly carved into the thin skin when she was still alive, based on the sloppy work. The hot coffee he’d accidentally splashed onto her face pooled in the divots of the wound and in the corners of her unseeing eyes. Lower down, on her chest, also obviously work she’d endured while conscious, was the word TRAITOR, carved in all capital letters.

Clearly an homage to the tattoos he gifted to Confessed sinners.

In their attempt to get back at him, the resistance had given him a gift. Truly, the Lord works in mysterious ways.

John radioed out for his men to clean up the mess at his door, then closed the door and went back inside to refill his mug.

[honeyhotteoks]

🌟 a quick little announcement / ask from me --

i really, really appreciate all the positive reception my fics have gotten over the past year+ of me publishing.... but i've gotten a lot of anon messages recently that i just want to address without singling anyone out.

recently i've been getting a lot of anon messages asking when i'm going to be updating fic, posting new fic, going back to aurora, etc. or asking again when i'll be back on a regular posting schedule. typically i'll answer the nicest anon with something like "soon i promise!" etc., but many of these i just delete because.... i just cannot physically answer them all. but at this point i just think i need to make a little blanket statement. the answer to when am i going to post is "when i write it" - at this point that's really the best answer i can give. i had a posting schedule for aurora but that's because most of it was written in advance, but i do not have a posting schedule as a writer in general. i don't mean to be quite so blunt, but usually if i don't post for a week or a little over a week i get flooded with these messages, some of which go so far as to ask why i'm not posting more altogether. i really don't mean to be mean or harsh at all, but the answer just is that i have no idea. i try to be really open and transparent with y'all, but the issue boils down to the fact that i just don't write as much as i used to, but there's a reason for that and i think i should be honest about why. when i got into ateez last year, i was in the downswing of a major depressive episode. i clung to them and my imaginary little world really fucking hard just to get through that, but it led to me writing a metric fuckton and posting tons of content almost weekly. in the past year i've been pulling myself out of that headspace and to be honest, i'm feeling MUCH much better and much less dependent on ateez. to be clear, they are still a huge part of my life and my everyday, but i'm no longer using them to get by and ultimately it just leaves me writing less frequently. that combined with a career change that leaves me working 50+ hours a week, having a healthy relationship with my partner, seeing friends, and most recently moving apartments, it just leaves me writing in what small pockets i have left. i personally put a lot of pressure on myself to write more and write faster, but sometimes i'll sit down to write and physically just can't do it because i'm making it into this big thing in my head. getting so many messages asking me when i'm posting and why i'm not posting more really just makes that pressure and guilt balloon in my mind. i know these questions are coming from a good place, but with the way my brain works it sometimes leaves me feeling bad and guilty. i guess this is all to say..... please understand that while i want to write more and write faster, i'm in a very different place in my life now than when i was writing aurora. please understand that i am just not able to publish at that speed or quantity anymore, and i've been feeling terrible about needing to make this kind of announcement because i know it's disappointing. but honestly.... i'm proud of the work i've done in the past year and i'm so happy i'm not feeling quite so bad anymore, and while i want to write more, i wouldn't trade it. so i just want to ask for your patience and your kindness on this one, i really am just doing the best that i can. please keep messaging me, please keep interacting and talking about fic, that makes me so excited to write! i love talking about my characters and writing and ateez in general, it's SO fun - but the asks i get on a weekly basis that seem irritated with me have to stop, i can only do so much for so long and if i had stayed at that pace i would have burned myself out completely. thank you all so much for reading and for respecting this, i honestly love this little fic community so much which is why i feel like i can be honest about this. i have a lot of fic plans and a lot working, but for now, i really don't know when i'll publish what. what i can promise is that i'm always writing, even in small ways. so more tnt is coming, more aurora, more one-shots, etc. i just can't promise much more right now. thank you again, i love you all. 

[joshriku]

Fic promt:

Cherik art museum encounter. Can be a clandestine 'meeting' (i.e. date) or a tense X-Men/Brotherhood encounter. I want tension and drama and art discussions. 🎨👀

i don't actually know anything about art! but thank you for the prompt! i didn't figure out which verse of cherik this is, so have fun! feel free to send prompts here and i may just fulfill it before sleep lol

-------

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” Charles asks. Erik’s eyes have been fixed on every painting they’ve passed, moving at a snail pace. “I had a feeling you’d enjoy it.”

Truth be told, Charles hasn’t paid attention to the paintings so much as he had paid attention to Erik. He’s wheeling next to him, enjoying that his hand holds Charles’ easily, and it’s in the little things, really: the way his fingers twitch every so often, as if he’s trying so hard to not reach out and trace every painting with his fingertips.

“Breathtaking,” Erik replies easily. He turns to Charles with an oddly serene expression. “I am itching to grab a pen and paper. Humble tools, yes, but ah—the urge is there.”

“That inspired, hm?” he smiles at him. Small, a bit sad—Erik’s not going to give in to that urge to draw again. Back then, before everything changed, there used to be sketches that Charles would see. A landscape, a cup, a face of a patient they must have seen one time—what always stuck out the most was seeing Erik draw it. The furrowed brow, the strokes, the patience. He used to be so at ease. “Perhaps one day you could be submitting one of your works here, my friend.”

Ah. Must have been the wrong thing to say. Erik drops his hand, turning to stare at The Floor Scrapers once more. He doesn’t leave like Charles expects him to; simply fixes his eyes on it again.

“I’m afraid the reality I’d paint would not be accepted by this museum,” he smiles, humorlessly. “Even if I were to be inspired, the truth would be rejected by them.”

Charles tries for a smile back. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Come, now. There’s a place for all stories to be told in a museum.”

“Not even you believe that.”

“Perhaps so,” he says. “I suppose I just wish you still had that time to do some art, time to just…” 

“Not engage in violent acts?” Erik chuckles, with the humor still taken off. “You can be so transparent sometimes, Charles.”

“It’s—it’s not—” Charles sighs deeply. “I don’t think I want to go down this topic, Erik. I had only wanted to show you around the museum. You used to like art.”

“And I still do,” he answers. “I appreciate the invite. I appreciate being with you, Charles. But look around you—you’ve frozen everyone in place, just for us to be here. Just for us to indulge. Do you truly think this topic can be ignored?”

And yes, perhaps Charles had been a fool for thinking he could pretend nothing was going on for at least forty minutes. Perhaps he had been a fool for pretending he could simply not see the cape, the helmet on his other hand. It’s not naivete, it’s desperation.

“Forgive me for missing you, then,” Charles huffs. “I’m trying to not do that.”

“Not working very well, is it?”

“Neither is it working for you, since you accepted to come here.”

“I never said I wasn’t missing you, Charles,” Erik replies. “I do. Every day. I like to believe that maybe—maybe—one day it’ll be over. And we’d get to do this for longer than forty minutes in a place where everyone is frozen in place.”

“It could be over,” Charles says. “Come with me.”

Erik smiles at him. “May I offer you the same back?”

It always reaches the same point. The one point where they just can’t concede, can’t agree, can’t come to the same conclusion. It shouldn’t break his heart anymore.

Shouldn’t.

Charles grabs his hand again, nonetheless. “Come on, then. We have got around, say, twenty minutes. I would like to see The Narrows at Lake George and have you explain each brush technique in detail, until we have to part.”

“It’s not going to be enough, one day,” Erik replies, but obligingly walking to the painting in question. “You know that. There’s going to be one day where forty minutes every now and then is not going to satisfy either of us.”

“Yes, yes,” he hurries, because he knows. He’s not naive. He’s just starved for him. There’s a difference. “You are wasting precious minutes, Erik.”

And there it is—that one smile that means he is winning this argument, this one time.

[intheticklecloset]

transparency

I've been considering this blog a lot lately, and I'd like to share some of my thoughts for the sake of transparency. So you know what's going on behind the scenes, and why I've not been as active as I used to be in past years.

I would love to get back into regular fic writing. It was always such a joy for me; it gave me something to look forward to, something to work on, something to pour my heart into and then share with others who may find some kind of joy from it as well. But in the last several months, I've been lacking in motivation.

Part of it is anxiety about daily life, wondering - as many people are - how in the world I'm going to make it to the next paycheck. Most of it is feeling like I'm just not as good as I used to be. That my well has run dry. The last portion of it is that I don't get the same kind of interaction from my readers as I used to, and it makes it hard to want to share something with people I don't even know are really there.

When I started sharing fics, I was doing it just to try it. Just to be brave and put it out there, hoping maybe someone else would enjoy it too. I would never have gotten to where I am now, having written literal hundreds of stories, if not for your guys' enthusiasm and support.

I think about reopening fic requests a lot, but then I think about the details of what that would look like on my end and I get nervous in a way I never used to. The expectations that came with my taking requests in the past are the very things that scare me away from reopening them now. That's why I stick to drabbles - they're low pressure and much easier for me to handle than a full story, even though full stories are what I really want to be writing.

I miss the days when my blog was active all the time, and though I don't necessarily want to get back to HOW active it used to be, I do want to start making strides toward kind of finding a balance between where I was and where I am now. Active, but not living my entire life around it, you know? Moderation in all things. I just don't know how to get there, or what the first step would be.

I'm working on it. I have some thoughts, and I might start talking about them more as the year unfolds before us. But for now...I'm trying. I'm struggling like no other, but I'm trying.

And I thank you for your continued patience and support.

[tvmigraine]

FORGOTTEN LIVES: Douglas Camfield

Before we begin! Remember to get a copy of the Forgotten Lives Omnibus at this link! You've got until the 1st of September, so make sure you don't forget to buy the book!

To make up for lost time, today we'll be covering two Doctors - firstly we'll be covering one of the only Morbius Doctors to get an official appearance in expanded media. Lance Parkin returns to this character roughly twenty years after writing "Cold Fusion" that covered the Doctor's forgotten past. As a writer who's supported the idea for years, even naming his first story after the article he wrote about the Morbius Doctors, how does he handle this incarnation?

Douglas Camfield (1931-1984) directed a lot of TV, such as Terry Nation's Blake 7, Z Cars and Public Eye. His direction credits to Doctor Who are equally impressive - The Crusade, The Daleks' Master Plan, The Web of Fear and Inferno to name a few. If there was any face behind the scenes that deserved this cameo role, Camfield was near the top of the list.

Lance Parkin, now having grabbed the reins to this incarnation, comes in with a clear vision for who his Doctor is and what his era would be. The Camfield Doctor is something of a bounty hunter, working with his companion Dattany to avenge those they couldn't save. They do not share as much time together as I may first have liked, but the chemistry between the characters easily helps you picture how the two may work together. Paul Hanley compliments this personality by making the Doctor's outfit akin to a witch hunter, someone trying to stomp out evil.

The other stories show the Doctor like a political ambassador, as if he's acting on behalf of the Time Lords. In a canon where we now have the Fugitive Doctor and her exploits alongside and against Division, the Camfield Doctor feels like how the Doctor fights against Division. There is a malicious compliance to this Doctor, where he will complete a mission so long as it is his way - if he sees wrong being done then he will find a way to change it.

To be transparent... I didn't really pull to these stories, they're good but not what I personally look for (I do commend the worldbuilding done by Gareth Madgwick in his story, it paints that world vividly). However, unlike other Doctors, I will not be examining him too much, instead I want to discuss some lore. Unfortunately for me, that means having to face my greatest enemy - the Tardis Wiki.

Now is the part where I go fully conspiracy. Where other Doctors here were built from the ground-up, this Doctor's appearance in "Cold Fusion" gives us more to work with on what this Doctor's life might've been like. It also has implications for the past Doctors we've covered so buckle in! (NOTE: Any inaccuracies about "Cold Fusion" are because I have yet to read it. Also don't take this too seriously, as Who contradicts Who all the time and Parkin can change whatever he wants.)

For example! This Doctor married a woman called Patience, having thirteen children and was even a part of the Supreme Council which was a ruling body on Gallifrey. He was subsequently charged with "consorting with aliens", something we see in Parkin's second story for this series.

However! Patience is also crucial in the plot to "The Infinity Doctors", the 40th anniversary also written by Lance Parkin. The book may or may not be in main continuity as the Infinity Doctor could be either the 1st or the 8th... or anything past and future. You want to know how that book would've originally started? It was supposed to begin with the Robert Banks Stewart Doctor with Patience. Counting Forgotten Lives continuity, this would imply that the Banks Stewart Doctor would be the one to first marry Patience.

Paul Hanley's "The Changing Face of Dr. Who" throws a fun spanner into the works. The Christopher Baker Doctor is stated to fall in love with Joan Redfern from "Human Nature" and it's TV adaptation. It feels as though the implication of the original book would make Cedric and Jilly the children that the Baker Doctor and Redfern may have had (this part is entirely theoretical). If this is the case, the Doctor would marry in his second incarnation, have human children following a third version of "Human Nature" then journey with them for a while, before eventually coming back to his wife. This also discounts that the Barry Doctor married a woman called Zodin at some point...

And maybe some things are best left Forgotten. Such as flavour text.

Patience, also, is placed into "The Machine" during "Cold Fusion" - a TARDIS created by Omega that predates the name of TARDIS, it was used to get her safely off of Gallifrey. The thing is, the Machine looks like TARDIS from the Cushing Movies.

So maybe Cushing is pre-Hartnell too? And Dr. Who made TARDIS in the films, or claims to, so did he make The Machine? If Omega made it, then are Omega and Dr. Who the same? My brain feels like it's leaking.

For more insight into the creative process of every author that worked on Forgotten Lives, you can go to @forgottenlivesobverse and find interviews from everyone involved across the books. If you're looking for insight on how the outfits were designed, you can go to Paul Hanley's Patreon and find what went into designing each Doctor.

See a snapshot of how this Doctor bent the rules and tried to make amends. If this Doctor interests you, then I would even recommend trying to track down a copy of "Cold Fusion" to fill another gap.

PAST LIVES by Lance Parkin

LEVERAGE by Gareth Madgwick

RETROGENESIS (Part Five) by Philip Purser-Hallard

TRAIL OF A TIME LORD by Lance Parkin

The next Doctor won't be any simpler as we cover the Graeme Harper Doctor, the journey Paul Hanley went on to simply find the original photo and grandiose sci-fi that comes with a new Doctor. That post should come later today, so don't wait too long!

[izar-tarazed]

🥃🥃 have at thee

Izar glances down at the small glasses placed before her, filled with a shimmering liquid: transparent but ever so faintly sparkling with silver as if there was fine stardust whirling within. Well, whatever this is, it’s just the right thing to lure an astrologer into drinking it. She downs the first glass—because apparently that’s how it’s done—, coughs, waves her hand and then inhales deeply.

‟So. Something personal... I don’t recall ever drinking something like this before but I love tea or whatever you call the concoctions you can make with a handful of herbs and boiling water and just the right amount of patience. The nomadic merchants sell some that I’ve come to love. I’ve also tried my hand at throwing together something myself but while the results are drinkable, they taste nowhere near as good as what the merchants come up with. They do have a blend that’s both very spicy and sweet, I like that a lot. But I also like the ones that taste a little bitter or tart at first, with all the other tastes hidden in between, and you have to study them sip by sip, taking your time, figuring them out. They’re easy to dismiss as unpalatable but they actually are if you take your time.

It’s the same with coffee. I don’t think anyone but Kalé sells that? I found it a little tricky to prepare at first—I only make it when at the Roundtable Hold, not when travelling—, but if done right, the smell is divine and then it’s like drinking pure darkness, all bitter and burning but eventually revealing a richness in flavors that is unparalleled. Kalé says you can sweeten it, but I don’t do that.”

She gently puts the empty glass aside, then goes for the second one, eyes sparkling as she empties it. Thinking, she spins it between her fingers.

‟I said for a long time I wasn’t good with blades and it was true, but I also didn’t do anything to improve? I had the rapier Rogier had given me. In hindsight, it was a parting gift. I carried that with me for ages, but I never really used it. And when I did, it felt just… wrong—in part because I wasn’t good with it. But I didn’t want to put it away, either, because it had been a gift. I felt like swapping it for any other blade would have been like disrespecting the gesture. Even with Rogier gone… or maybe because he was gone, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything with his rapier other than carrying it with me.

Then Ensha insisted I should get better in melee and started teaching me how to actually use the rapier, and while I still wasn’t good with it… I got a little better. He insisted I try out different things, and I was like the most stubborn child claiming that he was wasting his time because I’m obviously just not good with blades of any kind.”

She chuckles—maybe about the memory, or maybe because she’s already a little light-headed after these two shots.

‟I ended up trying anyway, because clearly Ensha is even more stubborn than I am, and eventually I understood that I wasn’t irrevocably bad with melee weapons—and that it wasn’t merely about practice, either. I always struggled with the rapier, but I felt more comfortable when I tried different katanas. And I finally went through my collection of ashes of war that I had been carrying around for a while. I asked Master Hewg for help and explanations. And as he glanced at my collection, he looked like I had opened up a treasure chest. Then we all discussed which ones might be of actual use for me, he got to work, and well… Suddenly I had weapons that felt like mine. I wasn’t holding onto them out of nostalgia but I actually used them.

I’ll always be a magic user first and foremost, but by now I can decently defend myself in melee when the need arises. I no longer carry the rapier; I keep it in my chamber at the Hold… I don’t think Rogier would mind that I don’t use it. He’d probably be happy to see I found something that works for me.”

[meimi-haneoka]

"With hindsight" Part 2 - a Yuna D. Kaito retrospective/analysis

Welcome to the second part of my retrospective on Yuna D. Kaito!

I remind you this is just a collection of scenes about Kaito from the whole story that I will be revisiting with the hindsight that Chapter 70 finally gave us. I'll try to give what I think is the right interpretation, but of course these are just my thoughts on the matter.

Continuing from Part 1, here we get into the heart of the story, while we find out more and more hints for Kaito's plan...but also hints for what's really in his heart.

My main goal with these posts is showing that the recent development didn't come out of the left field but there were actually subtle (or less subtle, but misunderstood due to prejudice) hints for it all along.

In this particular post, at some point, there'll be talk about heavy subjects related to life and death. The paragraph will have a warning beforehand, just to be sure, and you can skip to the next section if you want.

"The greatest magic artifact...Akiho-san herself" - Volume 6

After the huge event of the first time-rewind happening just merely a couple of chapters earlier, the end of volume 6 brings another earth-shaking revelation, along with many more important info.

First of all, since he completely dropped his "mask", we're shown for the first time how Kaito is immediately aware when Sakura creates a new Card. But that also confirms that he didn't meddle with those events, not in the beginning at least.

As I said previously, Kaito is someone who tends to act and intervene only at the last minute, when he cannot really avoid it anymore.

Even though the Card created by Sakura was so pivotal to the success of his plan, he really didn't intend to make her produce it by force. He still had time, so he hoped she would create it on her own without needing to resort to harsh methods. Another indication that he really wasn't keen on hurting Sakura at any moment of this plan. He was just standing there, going "oh!" when he could sense a vibration in the magic that suggested that Sakura's powers went out of control again, and soon another Card would be born. He just had to wait for the right one. A game of patience. Definitely a challenge for someone like him, used to obtain everything immediately, thanks to his magic.

We also get the first mentions about his plan: we acknowledge that he indeed needs a Card created by Sakura in particular, but that any of those new created ones will still be very useful to his goal (almost all the Cards in fact acted as "characters" for the story he prepared in Clockland).

We're informed that Momo is the guardian of the Book Akiho holds so dear, and that Kaito is trying to make that Book work to activate a forbidden spell.

Indeed, as we well know from chapter 70, everything went exactly as he wished for: they went inside the Book, he created the Clockland story using his memories and those of Akiho + Sakura in order to turn them sisters later on, the transparent Card he wanted was produced at the very last moment and he "piggybacked" Sakura's wish to exchange roles with Akiho to make an exchange himself.

But the biggest revelation (and one of the biggest misunderstandings) is that Kaito mentions "that's why I never returned it....the greatest artifact created by the Magic Association and that Clan...Akiho-san herself".

After this page, all the red flags and sirens probably went off in everyone's head, "omg he abducted her", "he wants to use her", "he's deceiving her"...but....to be honest, seeing the chapter with the first part of Akiho's past, and seeing how unhappy she was, we should've wondered immediately if that wasn't for the best.

Because it was.

He literally saved her life by never returning her to her clan.

Still, the sense of distrust in Kaito after this scene here (powered by that seemingly manic smile) persisted for long, long time in the fandom. And that was exactly what CLAMP planned us to feel like. Or rather, they wanted to see if we'd be able to get rid of this feeling the more the story went on.

Time magic at the behest of the Association - vol. 7

Just want to point out this small detail here - it tends to be forgotten, but Kaito didn't learn time magic when he decided to escort Akiho around the world, nor was given that ability by Momo.

He already knew how to work it, and has been using that dangerous type of magic ever since he was a kid, at the orders of the Association. Eriol obtained that information during his research.

This connects to chapter 70 because it made sense for them to impose a spell like the Seal of D on Kaito.

They knew he could use time magic, they knew he had no qualms in using it, and therefore that made him all the more dangerous to escort such a precious magic artifact in their eyes.

But most of all, this scene here confirms how Kaito himself was used and abused by the Association, in a similar way to what happened to Akiho. Scared of the terrible side effects, they ordered an emotionally stunted boy to use that magic on their behalf, well aware that it would've shaved off his life span. He didn't know any better, had a bleak existence because of how he grew up, he didn't have desires, so he couldn't really muster a will to refuse the orders.

"The boy didn't understand what was fun in that" - Volume 7

When talking about Kaito's past, CLAMP keep telling us "he didn't care for anyone, he didn't know what was fun in doing something with someone...spending time with them".

It's something they keep hammering because it's very indicative of how Kaito changed profoundly thanks to Akiho.

Now he experienced what's good in doing something for someone (not only all the things he did for her as her attendant, but also the very plan he set into motion, the sense of accomplishment we see in his final smile in chapter 70 comes directly from that), he experienced how good it can feel to spend time with someone (there's no doubt he loved spending time with Akiho, otherwise when given the chance - the time rewind at the date later on - he would've avoided it).

The only problem is.....he hasn't understood why yet. What really makes the difference here. Or rather, he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it till the end. And that stubborn ignorance led him to go on with his plan, thinking he was doing something good, oblivious to the effect this will have on Akiho later on when she'll find out what happened. That's why Momo cried "blockhead!!" in rage before he disappeared in chapter 70.

"Happy ending for whom?" - Vol. 7

And here we get HUGE, huge hints for what was coming up in the future.

Kaito was exhausted (Momo checks on him with a worried face) and fell asleep on a sofa, dreaming of his past and the moment that changed his life forever. The moment when the Association decided to tell him that they had just executed a magic ritual on the girl that he had certified as "magicless, like a blank book" long time before, in order to turn her into a magic artifact. Not "any girl", but the daughter of the only person who treated him with humanity for the little time they interacted with eachother.

If he was still dreaming of it now, years later, it meant that the event scarred his heart in a way that he didn't even fully understand himself. And we'll get confirmation of this only in chapter 60, 29 chapters after this one.

Kaito mentions that his dream looked "like a picture book", and Momo poses a clever question: "Does it look like this book will have a happy ending?".

We all took this question as figurative back then. But to imagine she actually was meaning it in a literal way, that we would really witness the characters becoming protagonists of a story set up by him! Again another hint under our noses.

Kaito confidently replies "It will (I'll make sure of it)", but that's when Momo (oh, I love her so much) comes with another sharper question that hits the bull's eye fully: "And that...will be a happy ending for whom, exactly?". My gosh. I don't know how Kaito didn't start second guessing after a question like that.

Because it's true, even though this might be the happy ending he imagined for Akiho (at his own expense, but he didn't care), it didn't even occur to him that this might not have been what she wanted at all. It didn't occur to him because of the complex feelings that his sense of disgust for himself and his guilt for what he had done to her were stirring in him. But we'll find out more about that later.

"She's really loved...by all the people involved with her" - vol. 7

Man, you can really feel we're halfway through the story, because in volume 7 are starting to surface a series of hints that become more and more specific to the revelation of Kaito's plan.

Kaito and Momo had just sensed that Ruby Moon and Spinel Sun came to Japan on behalf of Eriol, and Kaito knows very well that Eriol is venturing in scheming that far for his dear Sakura's sake.

And then....Kaito becomes sad? melancholic? for one moment...with a quite painful expression.

"She's really loved...by all the people involved with her"

This expression here kept me (and I'm sure not only me) wondering for long, long time. Years. It's apparent he's feeling a pang of sadness because Sakura's blessing with people who love and care for her wasn't granted on Akiho as well. But was he only feeling sad for Akiho? And what exactly that expression represented, was there envy for it? Longing?

Did he resent Sakura for the blessing of a loving entourage?

Now we know he really didn't. Of course the idea that CLAMP wanted to instill in our heads was that Kaito wanted to exchange the girls and felt envy/resentment towards Sakura, for the countless, shameless luck and privileges she was blessed with. I had fallen for that interpretation too for some time, because it kinda made sense. Seeing his past, his background, his upbringing...and the fact that Sakura was basically a stranger to him.

And Momo's further comment that Akiho loved Sakura too, with the subsequent silence from Kaito, was really staged by CLAMP in a way that could suggest Kaito was having second thoughts about his plan, because if he hurted Sakura, Akiho would've been sad.

But now it doesn't really seem like that was the case anymore. We know he never intended to hurt Sakura, nor exchanging them, from the very beginning.

I think here his storming feelings are originating not only from Akiho's situation, but also from his own need to be loved. A need that was naturally born in him along the years, but could not find its way to be acknowledged and expressed properly. And Momo mentioning that Akiho loved Sakura as a friend only contributed to make him feel even more alone, outside that "circle" of people loving eachother. He's excluded from this, because in his head he won't ever have someone who loves him. He's a bad person with a locking seal imposed on him that will swallow him whole at the end of this journey. Which is why...

"Because it's about you, Akiho-san" - Vol. 7

...when Kaito nonchalantly blurts out "Because it's about you, Akiho-san" in response to Akiho's question on how does he know perfectly everytime she's coming home to let her find her afternoon snacks ready, Momo becomes livid. So much that she wants to send him flying with a kick.

Because Akiho of course cannot help but running away, red in the face like the reddest tomato, in front of such sweet declaration of affection from him. It's like he's saying "you're important to me, so of course I always know everything about you, I have a sixth sense for you" and that would be perfectly fine, if it weren't for his otrageous obliviousness. His "?" face in front of a raging Momo is further proof of that. Remember when she said, in the Drama CD 2, "it's true they say people know the least about themselves"?

He's uttering it himself and yet he doesn't understand the full meaning of the words that are spilling out of his mouth. Nor he understands the effect they have on Akiho (because he's oblivious to her feelings as well).

Kaito never ever admitted that he's doing all of this for Akiho's sake, never spelled out that he cares about her and loves her in his own way. Even though it's apparent to everyone by now. And this obliviousness, or this refusal? to see the truth is precisely the reason why the success of his plan will only bring misery to Akiho in the long run. Despite he wanted (deep down in his heart) nothing more than making her happy.

"I will read more books" - vol. 7

If we exclude the scene where Kaito gets closer to Akiho during stopped time at the end of Vol. 5, this is the first time we clearly see Kaito hurting for something. The first time he clearly lets slip a sort of weakness in front of Akiho. And you can guess it, it's got always something to do with her.

This is the very first, timid proof that what little Kaito said on that fateful day of some years earlier had wrecked him in every possible way and had pushed him to give all of him to make things right.

Akiho says something really innocent, "I will read more and more books! I will memorize so many more things...!" because poor her, she just couldn't bear to keep embarrassing herself in front of her most important person with her clumsy, ignorant takes.

Little did she know, she had just pierced his heart with a knife at that very moment.

Because "reading more books" is not just an innocent, healthy activity, but in her case can also actually mean to push herself one step closer to death. And since it all started with something Kaito unintentionally said, the mere thought wrecks him more than 100 spells attacking him.

Kaito defends his 'family' - vol. 7

Allow me to comment on this scene, because I really need to point out something that will be more subtly connected to what happened in chapter 70 (we get into dark thematics related to death, so beware and skip to the next paragraph if you're sensitive on the matter).

The Magic Association tried to attack the Shinomoto mansion, likely to take Akiho back. Of course Kaito sensed it and counterattacked, using time magic.

Here he commented "As long as they continue to not include time magic (in their spells), due to their weakness and fear of its devastating effects on their bodies, it's going to have the same result every time".

The thing that immediately becomes apparent for people reading this for the first time is that Kaito not only betrayed the confraternity of people he was once part of, but he also despises them, thinks very little of them and probably has done so for quite some time (with all the reasons of this world).

Then, it's also very apparent how he indirectly poses himself in contrast to their actions: "they're weak and cowards, that's why they don't use time magic. While I have no qualms in using it. I am not afraid of what will happen. No one is gonna stop me".

Then....if we dig deeper...we also find something more personally concerning Kaito, in his sentence.

He's indirectly showing he acknowledged that they kept using him when he was a child to perform tasks that required time magic, because they were too coward to use it themselves. He acknowledges they used him, and lord only knows when that realization came about, probably after starting his journey with Akiho and staying away from that toxic environment for some time.

And that realization came with his greatest act of rebellion.

"I hate myself, I'll always be alone and am not interested in continuing living this life, but at the very least I won't ruin myself at your behest anymore. I WILL BE THE ONE to decide how and what to exhaust my life on". It is of course a terrible, horrible way to see the worth of his own life, but at the same time a desperate scream for self-determination that personally I can't ignore. For how horrible it is, this is Kaito calling the shots for what concerns him. He's not existing for the use and abuse of other people anymore. And this is also part of why he shows that self-satisfied smile at the end of ch. 70, although mixed with other emotions.

Of course, he made such decision with a mindset of someone who got nothing to lose. Nothing, or no one. And this is where he was terribly wrong.

Rewind & the silencing spell - vol. 7

Sakura produced the Rewind Card, and for the first time ever, we get a comment from Kaito indicating that, although it's not exactly the one he was looking for, it went quite close.

Now that we know that the Card he was looking for is Exchange, we can infer in which ways Rewind went close to it, but wasn't exactly what he was looking for.

I think Rewind was simply incomplete for the full plan Kaito had.

Rewind showed to be capable to change the appearance of someone to make look them like they were in a previous state. In Syaoran's case, it made him look like when he was very little, because that was what Sakura was thinking about when she created the Card. Even if Kaito wished, thanks to Rewind, to restore Akiho's situation back to when she wasn't turned into a magic artifact yet, that would've been only a superficial change. Rewind doesn't seem to have (for now) the full potential of the time-rewindings operated by Kaito. Sakura didn't actually travel in time to bring a little Syaoran back from those times, as Syaoran still had his own teenager conscience. The "change" doesn't operate at deep level, basically, and so it was insufficient for Kaito's plan.

Furthermore, in this same scene, we see him activating the silencing spell on Syaoran. Again, a move made at the very last moment, when Sakura had already found out that she was the one giving birth to those Cards. To be honest I still don't feel like this was malicious at all. He could've thought up so, so many harsher ways to stop them from interfering with his plans if he meant any harm to them. Messed with their minds, made them forget (Eriol did so with Yue!!), I don't know.

Instead, he chose this way, exposing himself even further, because why only mentions of Akiho and Kaito would get "blocked"? Of course that made so apparent that the spell came from him, and he somehow wanted Syaoran to know it did. Probably as a way to suggest "it's me, please don't interfere more than this". Of course, as I said before, Kaito is not here to f*ck around, so he found himself forced to use this silencing spell, or cutting off Eriol from communication, or to use all the time-rewinds he used.

The first decision I've ever made for myself - vol. 7 and vol. 8

I look at the first picture of this paragraph and I laugh, because I remember when this chapter came out people were making fun of Kaito, calling him "creep" for spying on a middle school (a swimming class, at that 😅). But looking at that smile now, with the hindsight of what we know...it's such a sweet smile. He seems genuinely happy to see Akiho enjoying her time with all her classmates. He loves to see all the bonds she created.

But that heartwarming feeling lasts very little, as his "half-assed" (as I always call it, what was that 'wave' for?) attempt to make Sakura create a new Card triggers Akiho's book, and for the first time ever we see it in action, making her lose her conscience completely.

The proof is that "Akiho" doesn't talk with her usual voice, but with the voices of the Association and the Clan. As you can see, at her feet, we see the same "book pages" that will engulf Kaito at the end of chapter 70 too (therefore almost confirming that's where he is right now, inside the damned book).

As both Momo and Kaito confirm, the spell that will eventually crush her soul is still very much active on her and not too far from its final goal. We get a glimpse of a very sorrowful expression from Kaito while he says with his own words that probably those people are hoping that the spell will crush Akiho's soul. This expression alone shoul've already been enough to confirm what Kaito's intentions were. But also how much he felt responsible for that atrocity.

Kaito doesn't have a choice, he will use *more* time magic to put some sort of "seal" on the book inside Akiho (freezing its time), full aware that this is just a patch and won't solve any problem definitively. But at least it should keep everyone (Sakura & Syaoran included, since it activated mostly in their presence) safe while he tried to bring his plan to completion.

Also...I can't help but point out how he softly caresses her face again before starting his spell, such a sweet gesture that almost seems as if saying "sorry" for performing a magic on her without the girl being aware.

Once again, he allows himself to be this sweet with her only when she's not aware of it. Knowing what we know now, it's no wonder why.

And here it is...probably the most important scene beside the one where he made a choice and said "I'll go".

His first conversation with Akiho.

For him, this wasn't really the first 'meeting'. Indeed, later on he will talk again about this moment and he will specifically use the japanese word for "conversation". Because although from afar, the very first time he met her was through the magic sphere.

Of course she was way too little to remember. So while for her this might have been effectively her first meeting with him, for him it wasn't, and his kind, sweet smile is proof of that.

He went there already knowing who she was, her background, who she was the daughter of, what happened to her, and prepared so that he could make her feel at ease from the very start. Of course someone must have taught him this, because before this scene he used to have such a dead stare. He looked like he never smiled once in his whole life.

My idea is that, after making his contract with Momo, she "trained him". For his smiles and everything else. Taught him how to interact properly with other people, since he was so averse to it beforehand.

This theory I have comes from the fact she's the one who told him, in one of the Drama CDs, "please laugh more properly! even it's a fake laugh!".

Anyway, this scene is so powerful because it's not only drawn in such a "fateful meeting" way, but also because this fountain and rose garden will appear later on in Clockland too, summoned by the magic of Momo's book browsing through Kaito's memories.

While other people might argue that this is also the place where he met Lilie once, I'd daresay first meetings and talks are more likely to leave such a big impression on someone. When he met Lilie there, it was one of their regular meetings (and clearly not the first one), while with Akiho it was the meeting that would start their journey together, and start the process of how his whole life would change thanks to her.

It's definitely not by chance that he's remembering this important moment while he discloses to the readers for the first time that "I made a decision that day. The first decision I've ever made for myself".

Stopping the time of the book inside Akiho proves to be very arduous.

So arduous that Kaito is sweating and panting at the end of it.

Not only that, but the book itself activates some sort of "defense" (that black matter that comes out of Akiho, the same black matter that comes out when she loses consciousness) and literally attacks Kaito. You can see it hitting him in several spots.

He looks stubborn and unstoppable, though. Even with the magic of the book hurting him, he still pushes through with his spell for the sake of Akiho.

Momo is taken aback because she didn't know *anything* of this idea of his, and she's really mad when he's done.

Always for the same reason.

Because while he can realize her change of mood without any problem ("You look even angrier now" "Ah, you can understand *that* just fine, hm? And yet you don't understand what's really important"), he hasn't understood Akiho's feelings nor his own, yet. And he keeps insisting in disregarding his life like it's nobody's business. The very core of the problem that will persist till chapter 70 lies all there.

Small detail I like to point out: Kaito's time magic isn't infinite. After he exerted himself on stopping Akiho's book, the magic he used to stop time for everyone literally starts to crumble apart, signifying that its effect will vanish very soon. This will happen again later on, in a *very* different situation.

Whenever Kaito's magic focus falls short, whether it's due to physical or emotional matters, his magic is affected and falls apart.

And with this scene of the beginning of volume 8 I will conclude this second part of my analysis! 💜

I have to be honest, when I started this "project", it was totally propelled by the strong feelings that chapter 70 gave me, but I thought I would finish this in 1, 2 posts maximum....but along the way, I found myself wanting to talk about so many scenes 😂that I'm not even sure I'll be able to finish this within the 3rd post 😂😂😂especially cause later on there'll be more and more hints scattered around...god help me 😅

At this point I can say for sure that part 3 will come after the release of chapter 71, so see you later for my monthly translation + commentary post!! 😉

[2af-afterdark]

I'm so sad to see whb has been delayed again, especially since it's just a few days since the scheduled release but honestly I expected it when the final devil has to even be teased. I don't want to get too upset at prettybusy because they're a really small team making a large game but they have a seemingly long running habit of making promises they can't keep and it's hurting people's faith in them. My patience is really wearing thin.

I can't imagine how upset Korean players are after finding out they won't be able to play the game they've been looking forward to literally 6 days before release. Also why do the refunds mean global release has to be delayed?? I may not know anything about game development but I genuinely don't understand the reasoning here.

-🌗

Honestly, I don't know a lot about game development or running one either, but I also don't understand why the game being pulled in the Korean market means they can't release globally either. In fact, I would think holding the global release would be better because (and this is the part of my brain that understands they're a business) they could start getting in game purchases which would stock their coffers and give them more cushion to carry out the refunds. Of course, it could be that they are delaying so they don't have to worry about the cost of the servers atm, but I would think getting the money for the game they have clearly sunk a pretty penny into would be a top priority.

And, like, it sucks for the Korean players. It really does. I would hate to be told that I literally cannot play the game I have been looking forward to for half a year. It's a shitty situation, especially since PrettyBusy is Korean based. I don't know what the issue they are facing is, but I feel like they should have announced sooner that it was happening. Like I said, these announcements keep coming really late. Almost like they are panicking to find solutions so they can try and weasel out of telling the fanbase the bad news instead of being upfront once they know something is wrong.

Honestly, I understand faith in PB getting shaky (mine is). This is delay number three, which builds up expectations you don't want people to have. I feel like it wouldn't be as disappointing if they had just delayed further in the future from the start. It's not the length of delay that hurts. It's how many delays there have been. I was literally talking to someone today about how I felt the game was going to be delayed again (and it was). It doesn't help that some games get announced and then never touched (again, Ark Academy).

I know people are mentioning that the PB team is small (less than 30 people by the sounds of it), but that isn't actually the issue I have. I get if the team is small. If that's what makes it too hard to release and issue refunds, then fine. What bothers me is the lack of transparency until they literally have to say something. If the issue was that Korean players literally couldn't register, then they knew about that for a while. They could have (and should have) said something. They could have started dealing with the issue earlier or issuing refunds when they realized they couldn't fix it.

It's a build up of things that starts to get to you.

Personally, this is the last delay I will be patient with. Anything more and I will likely stop following the game until it magically drops (if it drops). I believe actions more than words, and the lack of communication and constant delays sets the tone for me, no matter how politely they word their announcements.

EDIT: I want to clarify that I do feel sympathy for PrettyBusy. They are a Korean studio and have found they cannot release in their own home country. That has to suck for them and their Korean fanbase. They are doing the right thing giving refunds. That does not change that I wish they would communicate better. They should have been upfront when they started having issues, not when they were so close to launching. This issue didn't just pop up. It must have already been happening in the background, but they choose not to say anything. It's the lack of communication that bothers me. The Korean players probably knew firsthand that there were issues, but I don't believe they ever released an official statement. They never addressed trying to help them or saying they didn't think they could help them. It was announced right before the delay/cancellation (for Korean). It's the constant last minute delays and not hearing anything until the last second that bother me. If they had said earlier that they would need to delay again, I would probably be less critical. The Korean fanbase has it the worst right now, but that does not mean the global fanbase isn't also dealing with the issue of lack of communication. That is the issue.

[mokkkki]

SWTE A1 C14 - 5 Winners, 2 Losers 

He knows that this is the right decision because Remus told him it was, he knows that this is the right decision because his father told him it was; the two people that love him most in this universe encouraging him to stop running from his destiny has all but ensured that he would rather die at the hands of the storm than seek shelter. 

Welcome to another Winners and Losers, this time of Chapter 14, also known as the beginning of the end of Act I. Sirius is preparing to secure his legacy, Narcissa is preparing to sabotage it, and as usual, Regulus is several steps ahead, hellbent on stopping plans that haven't been made yet. As I am sure you are all aware, or at least, will be aware when Chapter 15 comes out, in this chapter there are so many moving pieces that it's almost impossible to categorize the true winners and losers, especially because they're all sitting on secrets that will become clear in time, so this categorization is dependent, not on what the characters know and are doing behind the scenes, but how they APPEAR in this chapter. If that makes sense? I swear I'm not trying to be pseudointellectual douche with my self-indulgent fic!!

Anyways, without further ado, here are our 5 winners and 2 losers from "Diamonds I"! Spoilers below the cut.

Winner: Bellatrix Black

Organized a kickass gala? Check. Served absolute cvnt with her outfit? Check. Stayed out of drama like an unproblematic queen? Check!

Winner: Narcissa Black (soon to be Malfoy!)

Probably the biggest winner of this chapter to be completely transparent. I'm sure we're all aware of how misogynistic Orion is by now to recognize just how big of an advantage getting married gives Narcissa (recognizing, of course, that Sirius' wife and kids are not "up to par" and that the same applies to Regulus, minus the wife part). Congratulations to our Ice Queen for always self-preserving! Can't wait to see why she really married Lucius!

Winner: Sirius Black

He has his father and his crazy werewolf boyfriend completely supporting his quest for kingdom. Meanwhile, Marlene remains a beacon of unconditional support, which he will really really need soon enough! Also, he lowkey kind of owned Regulus. Like absolutely destroyed him. And Lucius, too. Problematic king! Let's hope it all doesn't get ripped away from him like we all know it will be!

Winner, thinks he's a loser, is a paranoid, prejudiced, abusive, narcissistic dystopian chauvinist and I hate him: Orion Black

Yeah, okay, his favorite niece got engaged and he's preparing to give away the company and the gala is going well and the BECNY probably raised hundreds of millions- whatever. Do I really have to talk about him? Like, I'm sure we all hate him, right? We'd rather move on to better characters?

Winner: Lucius Malfoy

Speaking of better characters: Lucius! The Ken (affectionate) (slightly derogatory) to Narcissa's Barbie. Sure, Sirius spelled him to injury, but he can handle it- he is about to marry into one of the most prestigious wizarding families ever, and his outfit was absolutely incredible. If I was an artist, I would so draw his little pink suit. He's kind of my favorite ICL.

Loser: Regulus Black

So, his outfit kind of devoured, but he's being iced out by his cousins, and his brother laughed in his face. He says he's preparing to destroy their father, but historically, how have Orion's enemies fared? He's David trying to beat Goliath- without the slingshot. If he's true to his word and determined to "get" Orion, it's going to be a long, difficult, and devastating road.

Loser: Marlene McKinnon

Not much to say here except for the fact that sure, she looked beautiful, but she just seemed to be constantly sidelined by Sirius. I wonder how long her patience can last, I guess?

read chapter 14 here!

[cryingadultchild]

Star crumb [2022.09.19]

Again remove everything from under hands So that it will not be stained with tears (pain pierces my heart again) "The red shadows I'm so tired of" (chained up, in a cage) So far still impossible To get out of this conclusion (please, can anyone hear me?) The words I say - words can't reach (the one I which can't become) "Please, I don't want to be similar on liar anymore either" When will my transparent sequins on eyes become A real "star crumb" that will make me really shine so brightly? (when will I be able to see what's beyond the horizon?) "A world I've never seen" Even if it sometimes looks like I'm really cheery (set up for good) - In fact, behind the scenes, I always keep falling apart (there is no untruth here, it's just that it's all two parts of me) "Two sides of the same coin connected by a thin line" The more I continued and continue to grow, the more understood And understand how much black there is around (and how bright the light is far away) I realized how painful it is to try to resist and fight, Especially when it comes to big things (but even the "little things" have become "huge") "Even the "ordinary happy life" began to seem like a fairy tale" (something unattainable) Why was I unlucky too? (including with himself in many ways) (please, can anyone hear me?) The words I say - words can't reach (the one I which can't become) "Please, I don't want to be similar on liar anymore either" When will my transparent sequins on eyes become A real "star crumb" that will make me really shine so brightly? (when will I be able to see what's beyond the horizon?) "A world I've never seen" Even if something and appears, Still too empty inside and out, still too exhausted (from the very beginning) "Even if there is at least some luxury - The other half of the heart is too burned out" (when will I finally obtain a real home? have to wait constantly too) I'm scared sometimes too much: "What if I can't stand it?" (my patience and at least some willpower and the rest) As a result, I do not know what to do: to let go of everything, Or to become what dreamed of finding so much.. (what if I don't do either?) hate that feeling: "stuck" (why do I still keep screaming?) The words I say - words can't reach (the one I which can't become) "Please, I don't want to be similar on liar anymore either" When will my transparent sequins on eyes become A real "star crumb" that will make me really shine so brightly? (when will I be able to see what's beyond the horizon?) "A world I've never seen" Pour out my soul day by day (just like now) Still keep trying to do and change at least something (including "growing flowers in a barren field") "Please: even if I (one part of me) hates life and wants to dissolve - Still too (the second) just want to be happy"