#when I say I truly felt like I was led to this particular path

[traumacatholic]

why do you want to leave Catholicism?

It was never about wanting to leave Catholicism, I didn't, and in a lot of ways I still don't. There was a time in the past, when I considered Orthodoxy and I kind of pushed it to the side. Because it wasn't something I wanted to do. I guess it's hard to explain, maybe someone on a similar path of converting from one denomination to another or from one faith to another might be able to relate in some ways.

[I'm going to put this under a readmore because it's long]

Catholicism was and is very dear to me. When I was in the Intensive Care Unit, it was a Catholic Priest delivering the Last Rites to someone across from me that really got me seriously thinking about the faith. I remember one night when I watched my first ever Mass which was being streamed, crying at the Sermon the Priest gave about how no matter where we are, we are never alone or isolated because the Body of Christ is always there for us. That no matter where we are, no matter our situation, that people are praying for us. That we never pray in isolation.

And when I first started attending Mass, it was like my first time I ever really felt happy. The year prior, I had been struggling intensely with depression and suicidal thoughts. I spent most nights of the week getting myself black out drunk, depressed and alone in my bedroom. I was sexually assaulted. I lost what little friends I had. And then in my second year of university, when I started attending the Mass I felt light. All of those burdens were taken off of me. It felt meaningful that the first Church I would start attending would be dedicated to Saint Raphael - the Medicine of God.

But the longer I was in the faith, the more I clashed with it. My experience in RCIA wasn't positive. I was the only person there that wasn't brought up in the Catholic faith, so everything was geared towards those that had been in the faith. My questions were often overlooked or just brushed away. Whenever I expressed difficulties I was having, these would also be brushed away. This wasn't helped by the fact that I was in an abusive relationship with someone that hated God and Christianity. Over the time of the relationship, I grew more and more anxious about attending Church. To the point I stopped attending, stopped praying. What little interactions I had with God I felt intensely guilty over. I eventually left that relationship. But that time away from the Church really hurt me. And trying to reconnect with the faith was difficult too. I reached out to Priests (I was living in a new area now, so I couldn't attend my old Church). And I was largely ignored when I asked for help or guidance in returning to the faith. The one Priest that did speak to me, downplayed a lot of my experiences and struggles.

Every time I attended the Mass, I was just feeling empty inside. I was overwhelmed with anxieties about everything. But it was the hollowness that was the hardest to grapple with. I struggled for a long time feeling like God had closed the doors to me because I had abandoned Him to remain in the abusive relationship. I reached out to nuns for advice, because they were easier to get in contact with than any of the local Priests. But they couldn't be of much support to me either, it wasn't their role - I don't hold it against them. But by and large the advice was always just 'go to Mass and things will get better eventually'. But the more I did manage to attend Mass, the hollower and more anxious about the faith I became.

My time with this blog led me to reading more about the faith, and this led to me reading about the Church Fathers and the early Church. And every time I read about the early Church, I felt like I was reading about the Orthodox faith. And as I encountered Orthodox theological arguments, I felt a resonation with them. And I also felt deeply guilty about it. I felt like I was betraying the faith, I felt like I was betraying God, the Saints, and I pushed it away. I tried focusing on other aspects of Catholicism, but I always felt a deep anxiety about what I was doing. That I could never really grapple with. I went to Mass and would pray for God to guide me. But I didn't know how to actually open myself up to that guidance. I would leave the Mass feeling hollow. I was intensely anxious about everything.

I attended a Ukrainian Catholic Divine Liturgy with a friend from Twitter, hoping that perhaps I could find some relief in the Eastern Rite. But I didn't. I still felt empty, and so very distant from God. He was an Orthodox Christian, and he began attending Church regularly again. Meanwhile I kind of just spiralled. I wasn't in a great place mentally, I didn't have the energy to grapple with these things. I kind of went back to a weird place where I'd attend a Mass here and there, my prayer life would fluctuate. Sometimes I was completely dead to the faith.

Then when I moved to the new city that I'm in just now. All of those feelings about Orthodoxy came back in an almost suffocating way. I couldn't not see things about Orthodoxy, I couldn't not see arguments for the Orthodox Church. I couldn't deny that I kept feeling like I was being pulled towards the Orthodox Church. When I spoke about considering Orthodoxy, the guy that I attended the Ukrainian Catholic Liturgy with reached out to me - we hadn't spoken in years by this point. He lives close to the city I'm in, and attends the Orthodox Church here. In a lot of ways I accidentally arranged for there to be someone to welcome me into the Orthodox Church. Well, not my doing, but God's plan. In a lot of ways, it's this bit that really speaks to me a lot. All it took was one night of me feeling completely hopeless, and just firing off a twitter dm to a complete stranger at that point, and it really impacted me in the future when I needed it to.

All I can really describe is that first Orthodox Liturgy I attended felt like the fulfilment of everything I had been searching for. Everything I had been grappling for. And this feeling doesn't go away for me. In so many Sermons, it feels like the Priest has somehow written his Sermon just for me. How much it resonates with me, how much it comforts and strengthens me and speaks to the position I'm at in life. I feel the closeness and the comfort of Orthodox Saints in my life. I would be much worse off if it weren't for the help of people at the Orthodox Church I attend, that so freely gave me a spare room, or some money, or their prayers. I have a Priest that will actually answer emails, that is involved in the community. That there is a Church community that I never experienced at any of the Catholic Churches I attended.

I don't think my answer is going to be particularly satisfying for other people. I didn't wake up one day with a theological disagreement with X or Y aspect of the Church. Overtime, I just became more and more filled with the feeling that this was not where I was meant to be. I was so lost and miserable and lonely and in pain as a Catholic and the more I tried to reach out for guidance and support, the lonelier and more miserable I became. And while I do still feel these things in the Orthodox Church, what I can say is that I feel like this is where God has led me to be. That everything in my life exploded as soon as I began attending the Orthodox Church, but there was something empowering about the Liturgy that held me even through those days and nights where everything was so painful and hopeless. That as much as I would cry myself to sleep with pains about being homeless, the breakdown of a relationship, I always found myself going to the Liturgy. And feeling strengthened by it, even for a moment.

In short, I feel happier in Orthodoxy than I ever did in the Catholic faith. And I feel like my faith is connected to my neighbours in a way that it never was in Catholicism. That there is actual community for me here. That the faith is alive for me here in a way in which it wasn't in Catholicism.

[ryuzakistoe]

Could This Be? (Sae Itoshi x fem!reader)

angst, fluff, slow burn, Sae Itoshi, language, smut (heavy?) fem!reader, trigger warning, hopeless/over thinker reader..?, BTW THIS IS GONNA BE A LONGGG ONE.

Yeah there's fingering, orgasms, dominate Sae, big-cocked Sae, somewhat submissive reader?, dirty talk (somewhat?), y’know all the usual.

a/n: give me ideas for who and what to write about next please🙏 cuz I got nothing.

Also, sorry if I made any mistakes on here as I have had not checked for any spelling mistakes or anything. I rushed to try and get this published because well…yeah it’s been a while.

____

(no song for this sorry😢)

Love.

It’s something everyone craves. The warmth of comfort, the security of knowing someone is truly there for you. It’s that feeling of having someone by your side, someone you can open up to without fear of judgment. It’s knowing there’s a shoulder you can lean on when life feels heavy.

Who wouldn’t want that? Everyone longs for that one person who understands them deeply, who stands by them through everything. It’s a natural part of being human.

Yet, finding true love isn’t always easy. Lustful desires can cloud our vision, making it hard to distinguish between the fleeting thrill of lust and the enduring presence of love.

Lust satisfies only for a moment, but love—love endures.

Too often, people mistake lust for love, deceiving themselves into thinking the temporary excitement is something lasting. But in truth, love is far deeper, something that grows and remains, far beyond the surface.

They convince themselves that this so-called "love" they’re experiencing is genuine, when, in truth, it’s anything but.

Then, there are those who have never been loved properly at all. As humans, we often twist the meaning of "love," reshaping it into something that barely resembles true love.

It’s disgusting, really.

The world is far from perfect, and it’s filled with deceivers and liars who spread only flames of falsehood and venom. It’s painful to think that someone like you has crossed paths with these people.

Many have tried to explain what "love" is supposed to be—pleasure, satisfaction, joy, delight, even lust. They use these words to describe love, and it’s horrifying to see how they’ve mistaken and misrepresented it.

What they experienced wasn’t real love at all. Just a shallow, distorted version of something far deeper and truer.

It’s pitiful. The "love" they’ve experienced is etched so deeply into their minds that they believe it’s real. But it isn’t.

Love is so much more. It takes many shapes, each unique to the person, and it goes far beyond fleeting pleasure or satisfaction. Some have been led to believe otherwise, brainwashed into confusing love with something shallow and empty.

They’ve never truly experienced love.

And yet, you, too, fall into this category. You’ve never been loved as you deserved.

These days, it seems like all men want is sex and pleasure. Many of the men you’ve dated claimed to “love” you, but those words quickly unraveled into hollow promises. What they felt was just a lustful attraction, nothing more.

Your heart has been broken more than once by these pretenders, each time leaving you with more questions than answers.

One day, they’d say they loved you; the next, they’d avoid you entirely. And to think, you even lost your virginity to one of these fucking scums.

They left you shattered, vanishing the moment they got what they wanted.

One guy, in particular, slipped past your defenses, convincing you he was different—that he was actually worthy of this "love." He manipulated you in countless ways, claiming it was all in the name of love. He told you that having sex, intimacy, and leaving yourself vulnerable, was the ultimate proof of love.

You were conflicted, torn by doubt, but a deep need to be loved pushed you to trust him. Yet, the days that followed left you miserable and broken, as he cut off all contact after that night.

All you wanted was to be was loved…

One by one, each guy took what he wanted and left, only adding to the ache and emptiness.

You stopped believing in love and began to hate yourself in ways you never had before.

Was love even real? Was it just a fantasy made for movies and stories, something exaggerated beyond reality? No one could convince you otherwise. All those voices claiming to know what love is, how it’s supposed to feel—they seemed almost delusional to you now.

You found yourself pitying them, those blind and hopeless creatures, chasing an illusion you no longer believed in.

What a bunch of animals.

…🌺…

You worked at a small bakery not far from home. Despite everything going on, you couldn’t afford to be broke. Thankfully, this job gave you just enough to scrape by each week. Barely.

You took the night shifts for the extra pay—just in case. A car was out of the question on your income, but that didn’t matter much; work was only a short walk away.

What they didn’t pay you enough for, though, were the rude, bitchy, demanding customers who tested your patience daily. They complained, ordered you around, and acted as if you were their work-slave, to solely serve their every whim. You were surprised you hadn’t lost your mind by now—probably thanks to your coworker or best friend might I say.

“Heyyy, Y/nnie! How’s my favorite girl?” she called out, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

Her name was Yuko. Annoying and overly extroverted as she could be, though you were grateful to have her around.

Her dark, disheveled hair, bounced as she ran toward you. “Hey, Yuko…” you managed, barely able to breathe under her tight hug. Despite her size, she was surprisingly strong.

Yuko’s eyes widened as she realized she was squeezing the air out of you, and she quickly let go. “Ha… sorry, Y/n!” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment.

“Nah, you’re fine, Yuko,” you said, smiling as you met her gaze.

Your first shift here had been lonely. You hadn’t bothered much with the other coworkers, and they hadn’t really reached out to you either. You’d all just been there to do the job—nothing more.

You hadn’t really minded keeping to yourself, never making an effort to connect with your coworkers. They hadn’t shown much interest in you, either.

Then came Yuko.

She approached you, eager to get to know you better—though, to be fair, she did that with everyone. She was friends with nearly all your coworkers, and now she’d set her sights on making you her next.

You couldn’t deny that her bold personality drew you in. Something about her was captivating, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Was it her loudness? Her confidence? Her outgoing spirit? Whatever it was, you felt yourself drawn to her.

And Yuko felt the same. She sensed there was something different about you, something intriguing, and that made her all the more determined to befriend you.

Who would have guessed that this mutual interest would spark such a strong friendship between the two of you?

You weren’t just another coworker to her—Yuko considered you her best friend. And, honestly, you felt the same way about her.

“I just couldn’t resist squeezing the life out of you, Y/n! You’re just so precious and adorable!” Yuko gushed, clasping her hands together with a loud smack.

“Yuko… you use that excuse every single day,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Do I? Mmm, I don’t recall…” Yuko hummed, feigning innocence with a coy smile.

You let out a small huff, clearly seeing through her act. With a playful glare, you waited, knowing she’d slip up soon enough.

Sure enough, not even ten seconds passed before she let out a whine, squirming a little under your gaze. “Ah, Y/nnnnieee… how do you always figure me out?” she grumbled.

“You’re just that bad at lying, Yuko.” You chuckled softly, watching as she crossed her arms, giving you a mock-offended glare.

“I am not that bad at lying!” she retorted, pouting.

Lost in your banter, neither of you noticed the soft jingle of the bell signaling someone’s entrance.

“Sure, Yuko, whatever helps you sleep at night—”

“Are you going to take my order, or are you two just going to keep bickering?”

Both of you froze, turning toward the voice with wide eyes.

"Ah… my apologies, sir. Sorry for not paying attention," you muttered quickly, stepping over to the register to take his order.

The man let out a faint hum, as if to agree that yes, it was your fault. Inwardly, you stifled a groan—you could already tell he was going to be one of those bitchy customers.

"Anyway, what can I get for you, sir?" you asked, glancing up.

Your gaze lingered, almost unconsciously taking in his appearance, a habit you’d developed with customers. He had reddish-brown hair and a lean build, at least from what you could see. His eyes, a striking green-teal, were narrowed slightly, showing not a hint of emotion.

You almost paused, a bit envious of his long, dark lashes. What a lucky guy, you thought.

Overall, he gave off an air of indifference, like nothing around him could bother him in the slightest.

“A salted kombucha tea will do,” he replied, barely looking up from his phone.

“Anything else?” you asked, glancing up at him again.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made it feel as if he was sizing you up, too.

“That’s all,” he said, hands shoved casually into his pockets.

You quickly typed in his order, breaking eye contact, though you could still feel the weight of his stare. It was… unsettling.

“And your name?” you asked, grabbing an empty cup, trying to brush off the strange tension.

“Sae Itoshi,” he muttered.

Sae Itoshi? The name struck a chord, tickling the back of your memory. You’d heard it somewhere before, but couldn’t quite place where.

“Alright, your drink will be ready shortly. If you could, please wait over there,” you said, gesturing toward the spot.

Sae’s gaze followed your hand, and without a word, he walked to the designated area.

With the empty cup in hand, you stepped away from the register and started preparing his drink. Just as you began brewing the tea, Yuko appeared at your side, looking as energetic as ever.

“Did I hear that right? That was Sae Itoshi?!” she practically shouted, wide-eyed as she leaned right into your face.

Already feeling the beginnings of a headache, you nudged her back. “Yeah, why are you so surprised?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yuko looked at you like you’d just sprouted a second head.

“Are you serious, Y/n?” She scoffed, gripping your shoulders in exaggerated disbelief. “You call me clueless, but you don’t even know who Sae Itoshi is?”

“That, my dear Y/n, was none other than the Sae Itoshi—the famous football player!” Yuko exclaimed, rocking you back and forth.

No wonder the name had sounded so familiar. What were the odds that a famous soccer player would show up at a small bakery like yours?

“Okay, okay, you can let me go, Yuko!” you yelped, clutching the cup tightly to avoid spilling the drink.

Reluctantly, she released you but continued her excited rambling. “Do you realize how rare this is?” she squealed, practically sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty rare,” you mumbled as you got back to preparing the drink, hoping she’d settle down.

But Yuko just stared at you, her expression twisting with utter disbelief. What’s with everyone staring today?

“The hell, Y/n? How are you not excited about this?! A famous athlete is literally in our shop right now! Out of everywhere, he chose here!” she ranted, poking the side of your head for emphasis.

You swatted her hand away. “Keep your voice down, Yuko,” you sighed, trying to focus.

But Yuko, unfazed, only leaned in closer. “And not only is he famous, he’s one of those hot athletes!” she gushed, ignoring your attempt to quiet her. “How can you stay calm when we’re literally in the presence of a sexy celebrity?”

You groaned, turning to face her. “Yuko, please. Let me finish this, okay? I really don’t need the noise right now.”

She huffed, dropping her shoulders dramatically. “Fine, whatever, Y/n. You’re so weird,” she muttered, leaning against the counter beside you.

A brief silence fell—until Yuko finally spoke up again. “So… how big do you think his dic—“

“Yuko!” you blurted, stopping her before she could finish.

“What? I’m just curious! Can’t you let a girl imagine these things?” she pouted, crossing her arms with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She knew you were already done with her antics.

“At least keep those thoughts to yourself, Yuko. And you call me weird,” you scoffed softly, snapping the lid onto the drink.

Yuko chuckled, clearly pleased with herself for getting under your skin. She lived for teasing you.

You took a steadying breath, picked up the tea, and headed over to Sae Itoshi, feeling a touch nervous to be serving someone so famous.

“Here’s your tea, sir,” you mumbled, holding the cup out to him.

He glanced up from his phone, his eyes settling on you as he reached for the drink. His fingers brushed against yours, warm and slightly rough, sending a surprising jolt through you. Shaking off the thought, you added, “That’ll be 595.31 yen.”

“Right.” He gave a soft hum and pulled out the exact amount, placing the yen in your hand before taking a sip.

You noticed his eyes widen just a fraction as he savored the tea, clearly caught off guard by the taste.

“This is surprisingly good for such a cheap drink,” he muttered, taking another sip.

You let out an irritated huff. Did he really have to say it like that?

“Glad it suits your taste buds,” you grumbled, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

He ignored your tone. “Did you make this yourself?” he asked, studying you with unexpected interest.

Caught off guard by the question, you raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I did. Why?”

His gaze held yours as he replied, “No reason. I just didn’t expect it to turn out this well.”

Another rude remark. Will you ever get a break from these customers?

He took another sip, looking mildly impressed. “I might reconsider coming by again for another cup. You make good tea—for a baker.”

You were sure steam was coming out of your ears by now. You just wanted him out of the shop. “Thanks, I guess,” you muttered, barely concealing your frustration.

“No problem,” he said nonchalantly, strolling out the door without a second glance.

You let out an aggravated sigh. The nerve of that guy.

Slumping your shoulders, you turned and headed back to where Yuko was waiting. The moment she spotted you, she practically skipped over.

“Sooo, Y/n, what’d you think? Pretty sexy, huh?” she laughed, leaning against your shoulder.

“Sure, I’ll admit he’s good-looking,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “But he’s an absolute jerk. Seriously, how do people put up with him?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Woah, woah, Y/nnie, what exactly happened?” Yuko asked, pulling back to look at you.

You sighed, pulling your hands away from your face. “He practically insulted me—multiple times. And I don’t even think he realized it.”

Yuko studied your face as you ranted, wide-eyed. Clearly, you were more annoyed than usual.

“Well, look on the bright side, Y/n—he probably won’t come back! …Sadly,” she added, mumbling the last part.

“About that…” you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Yuko’s mouth dropped open, and she grabbed your face, forcing you to look at her. “You’re telling me he’s coming back?! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh—!”

“Yuko!” you exclaimed as she released her grip, realizing she’d been squeezing your face a little too hard.

“Sorry, Y/n,” she chuckled sheepishly, taking a step back. “But seriously—is he really coming back?” Her eyes were wide, fixed on you like a hawk.

“Well… yeah, he said he might, but I don’t know if he actually meant it,” you murmured, recalling Sae’s words.

Yuko let out an exaggerated groan, tugging at her hair. “Aww, come on, Y/n! Way to get my hopes up!”

“Sorry, Yuko,” you sighed. Not that you were actually sorry.

“Doesn’t mean he won’t, though! Ooh, maybe I can get his number too! I can already picture our future together—wonder how he looks naked in bed—”

“Yuko!” you shouted, interrupting her with a mix of surprise and annoyance.

“Just messing with you, Y/n!” Yuko cackled, wrapping you in a tight hug.

You couldn’t stand how easily she joked about such… lustful things, though you’d never admit it to her. It always made you uncomfortable.

“Aww, I love you, Y/n!” Yuko said dramatically, burying her head in your neck.

That, too, made your stomach turn. You hated it.

Why did everyone toss around the word "love" so casually, like it was just a meaningless phrase? You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

…🌺…

The soft, familiar comfort of your bed enveloped you as you collapsed onto the mattress. A sigh escaped your lips as you began to settle in for the night. It was already 12:05 AM, meaning your shift would start in just six hours.

You let out another sigh, staring at the ceiling, letting your thoughts wander.

Then, out of nowhere, Sae Itoshi’s face flashed in your mind.

Without thinking, you grabbed your phone and searched for his Instagram profile.

What the hell are you even doing?

You scrolled through his posts, which were mostly just photos of him scoring goals, looking effortlessly cool. What is wrong with you?

Your finger hovered over the screen as you clicked on his followers and the people he followed. It was a list of other famous football players, each name more recognizable than the last.

Are you out of your mind?

You navigated through all the social media apps, searching for his name, scrolling aimlessly.

Stop.

You froze, suddenly aware of what you were doing.

“What the hell am I doing?” you whispered to yourself, a wave of realization washing over you.

Why were you so fixated on finding Sae Itoshi online? Was he really that intriguing? Was he worth all this time and energy?

What exactly was so captivating about him?

You had no answers.

With a frustrated sigh, you closed out of every app that featured his name and set your phone down beside your bed. You plugged it in to charge, then wrapped yourself tightly in your blanket.

But despite the warmth, sleep eluded you. Instead, you lay wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling.

What made you do this? Why was Sae Itoshi still on your mind?

Why were you suddenly so desperate to know who he was?

You let out a weary groan, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping sleep would finally drown out the endless questions swirling in your mind.

And after what felt like an eternity, it finally worked. Your thoughts began to fade, and sleep claimed you.

…🌺…

“Well then, Y/nnie, who’s excited to see Sae Itoshi?! I know I am!” Yuko exclaimed, practically bouncing with energy.

“Sometimes you’re too much, Yuko,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

As expected, Yuko was absolutely ecstatic about the prospect of seeing Sae Itoshi again. But could you say the same? You weren’t so sure.

“Come on, Y/n! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! You’ve got to make the most of it!” Yuko urged, clasping her hands around yours with a grin.

“Well, I’d like to make use of my lifetime not obsessing over some famous football player,” you sighed, trying to sound indifferent.

What a lie.

“Gosh, you’re so boring, Y/n!” Yuko huffed, releasing her grip on you. “You’re hopeless,” she added with a teasing tone.

You scoffed. “Me, hopeless? I’m just trying to make enough money to survive out here,” you grumbled.

“Aren’t we all?” Yuko replied, taking a step away from you and heading off to serve other customers.

You sighed, watching her go, then rested your elbows on the counter in the back. Your phone came out of your pocket, and you began scrolling through social media absentmindedly.

Then, once again, that all-too-familiar thought of him crept into your mind.

What is happening to you?

You found yourself on his Instagram page, scrolling through his posts without even realizing it.

Just then, you heard a voice—one you knew all too well.

“You must have a really hard time noticing your customers waiting.”

Your eyes widened in shock. You quickly whipped your head up, and there he was—that stupid jerk—standing right at the register, waiting for you to take his order.

Sae Itoshi…

You quickly turned off your phone, hoping he hadn’t caught you scrolling through his profile just moments before.

Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the register, forcing a neutral expression.

“The same thing?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah,” Sae replied, his tone as calm as ever.

With just one word from him, you got to work, preparing his tea with a practiced speed.

It didn’t take long, and within less than 10 minutes, his drink was ready.

“That’ll be—”

“Here.”

Sae handed you the money without missing a beat, then swiftly took the drink from your hands, taking a slow sip.

A satisfied sigh escaped him as he swallowed, clearly enjoying the tea.

You couldn’t help but watch him, eyes lingering on the way he drank.

This guy…

Noticing your stare, he pulled the cup away from his lips and casually spoke, “Y’know, instead of just wandering around looking at my page, you could always just follow me.”

His voice was quiet, almost teasing, but you couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious.

Nonetheless, your eyes widened at his words.

Fuck…he caught you.

“Uh… yeah, I’ll keep that in mind…” you mumbled awkwardly, the words barely escaping your lips.

You could feel your face burning with embarrassment. This is so humiliating.

Then, just as you were trying to regain some composure, Sae spoke again.

“Give me your phone.”

His words hit you like a punch. What the hell? Why would he want your phone?

“May I ask why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, the confusion evident in your voice.

“I just want to see something,” he replied, his tone flat and unreadable.

You should’ve known better. You shouldn’t give a stranger your phone. It was basic knowledge, after all. But something about his calm, indifferent demeanor made you hesitate.

Strange, you thought, but you didn’t argue.

With a subtle sigh, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to him.

Sae swiftly swiped your phone from your hand, his fingers moving quickly as he typed something and tapped on the screen.

“Here,” he said, handing the device back to you.

You took your phone, still confused, and looked up at him. He met your gaze with a calm, unreadable expression.

Without thinking, you broke the eye contact and immediately glanced at what he had done on your phone.

Your eyes widened.

You were now following Sae Itoshi.

"You needed my phone for this?" you asked, your voice laced with confusion as you shifted your gaze back to him.

He took in your baffled expression, his head tilted slightly.

“Yeah, it’s not that hard to click ‘follow,’” he replied nonchalantly, his tone almost taunting.

You glared at him, feeling a frustrated vein pulse at your temple.

Did he really not care how he affected people?

Actually nevermind. He probably didn't.

Now, you were really starting to believe that people probably were paid to put up with this egotistical jerk.

“Whatever. Is that all you needed?” you asked, forcing the frustration down as best as you could.

It was getting harder and harder to ignore his blunt, cutting words.

“Yeah, i guess.” Sae shrugged, his eyes drifting away from you to inspect the decorations and furniture around the shop.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful that he wasn’t pushing any further.

But, of course, Sae caught it.

His gaze snapped back to you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “What? You that eager for me to leave?”

“Somewhat,” you replied, not even hesitating.

Sae’s eyes narrowed slightly as he processed your blunt answer. His brow quirked, clearly not expecting such a direct response. He shrugged it off casually.

“Too bad. I’m coming back.”

Naturally, that soured your mood tenfold. But, oddly enough, you didn’t feel as annoyed as you’d expected hearing those words.

Odd…

"If you're done ordering, please step out of line," you sighed, shoulders slumping. You were already growing tired of his antics.

"Didn’t even get a chance to check this place out, and you’re already kicking me out? What poor customer service," Sae commented casually, holding up his empty cup in front of you. "Might as well throw this away for me, yeah? Thanks." His tone was light, as if he barely noticed how much he was testing your patience.

You let out a frustrated grumble, muttering under your breath as you snatched the cup from his hand, shooting him a glare before turning to the trash can.

Just as you tossed it away, you looked up to see Sae already strolling out, unbothered.

You felt yourself visibly relax as Sae’s figure disappeared from sight.

Seriously, could that guy be any more irritating?

But your brief moment of relief didn’t last.

"Y/NNIEEE!"

Perfect—just what you needed.

"Ah, my beautiful Y/n, how did your date go with Sae Itoshi?!" Yuko teased, a mischievous grin on her face as she draped an elbow over your shoulder.

"Really, Yuko?" you groaned, nudging her off.

"What? Didn’t go as planned?" Yuko pouted dramatically, raising her hands to her face and pretending to wipe away imaginary tears.

"Sometimes, Yuko, you do too much," you mumbled, glaring at her, hoping the hint of annoyance in your tone would get through.

"Y/n, you’re such a peculiar one. Most girls would go crazy by just seeing that guy! I mean, every time I catch a glimpse of him, my heart practically explodes!" Yuko rambled on, forming a heart with her hands and placing it over her chest, mimicking a rapid heartbeat.

"C'mon, Yuko, you know why—" you paused mid-sentence.

She didn’t know. Yuko didn’t know about the pieces of your past you’d left unspoken, buried somewhere you hoped no one would find.

She didn’t know about the heartbreaks you’d endured, the ones that had chipped away at you until even the thought of love felt distant, hollow. She didn’t know about the countless nights spent piecing yourself back together, the silent battles, the disappointments that had left scars no one could see.

Yuko didn’t know about the lies you’d had to believe, the ones that wrapped around you until you could hardly tell where the truth ended and the facade began. She had no idea how those things had worn you down, until something as simple as liking—or even loving someone, felt like too much to ask.

No, she didn’t know any of it. You’d never told her. And maybe you never would.

"Huh? No, I don’t know why. What do you mea—"

"Oh, uh, never mind, it’s nothing," you said quickly, cutting her off, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on the edge in your voice.

But you knew Yuko wasn’t stupid. You could feel her gaze linger on you, her eyes clouded with confusion and curiosity, studying you, knowing something was going on.

Yet, she knew when to let things be.

"Alright, if you say so, Y/n," Yuko murmured softly, letting it drop.

You looked away, voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah."

You exhaled, feeling a small release as her gaze finally drifted from you.

"Anyway, I’ll get back to my shift, Y/n. Talk to you later!" Yuko said with a small smile as she started to walk away, her curiosity saved for another time.

You gave her a quiet nod and returned to your work. Just a couple more hours, and you’d finally be able to go home.

…🌺…

Here you were, lying in bed, getting ready to drift into a deep slumber.

Slipping into your nightwear, you wrapped yourself snugly in your blanket, instantly enveloped in warmth and comfort. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you lazily glanced at your notifications.

“Sae Itoshi is now following you.”

Your breath hitched. For a moment, you thought you were imagining things. Was this real?

Heart pounding, you tapped on your profile and checked your followers.

Nope, it wasn’t a mistake. It was real.

But how? How did he even know your name?

Oh. Right. The nametag.

You tossed your phone aside with a sigh, sinking deeper into your bed.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint what you were feeling. There was happiness, maybe even excitement, but it was tangled up with annoyance and a faint thread of confusion.

Why would he follow you? He didn’t seem like the type to care about someone like you. It didn’t make sense.

But the real question lingered: how did you feel about all of this?

It was strange. These emotions felt foreign, like opening a book you hadn’t touched in years. And yet, they felt… good. Comforting, in a way.

But also terrifying.

You couldn’t remember the last time you let yourself feel like this. What if it led to the same pain, the same destruction? Wasn’t it safer to keep your guard up, to not let anyone in?

“The hell are you doing to me,” you groaned, burying your face into your pillow, trying to escape the overwhelming storm of emotions crashing over you.

…🌺…

"Let me guess—the same thing?"

"Yeah."

You let out a small sigh, already knowing the routine as you headed to the back to prepare his drink.

He came in every day, like clockwork. It was almost comforting in its predictability, though he never switched things up—always the same drink, no pastries, nothing else.

As you handed him his order, you asked, "Do you want anything else, or…?" You already knew the answer but asked anyway, half out of habit, half hoping for a surprise.

"No," he replied flatly, his tone as cutting as ever. "Though it’s pretty stupid of you to even ask. I mean, isn’t it obvious by now? I get the same thing every day."

Ah, yes. Classic Sae. Always quick with the unnecessary criticism. What a great way to dampen your already mediocre morning.

"Well," you muttered, brushing off his remark with a hint of irritation, "it’s just that you always get the same thing. Don’t you ever want to try something else?"

Your tone betrayed your annoyance, but honestly, could anyone blame you?

"If I wanted something else, I would’ve asked for it already, don’t you think?"

Now he was just being a smartass.

"I get that," you scoffed, barely holding back your frustration, "but wouldn’t you want to at least try something different?" Your fists clenched at your sides, a subtle outlet for the irritation bubbling inside you.

Sae paused, his gaze steady as he studied you for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he finally said, "If I buy something else, will you stop nagging me about it?"

"I mean… I guess?" you replied, your uncertainty creeping into your voice. A simple "yes" felt too eager, but saying "no" would make it sound like you were intent on pestering him forever. You weren't a begger. Especially not to him.

Sae gave a curt nod and glanced at the display, scanning the selection before pointing at a pastry. "That one looks decent."

Your gaze followed his finger to the pastry in question. "Alright, then," you said, moving to grab a paper bag. Carefully, you placed the pastry inside, sealed it up, and handed it to him.

"That’ll be 645.87 yen," you muttered, barely meeting his eyes as you extended your hand. He handed you the money without a word, his expression unreadable as ever.

You let out a relieved sigh, assuming this was the part where Sae would leave, as he usually did.

Usually.

Just as you thought your morning might finally return to normal, Sae took a step, then stopped and turned back to face you.

You blinked, confused. Wasn’t he done here? Apparently not.

“Before I forget,” he began, his unwavering gaze fixed on you, “I have a match coming up against this program called Blue Lock. I want you to come watch.”

Your eyes widened slightly, your mouth parting in disbelief.

Did he just… personally invite you to his game?

“Wait… what?” you mumbled, still trying to process his words.

He let out an exasperated sigh, his expression tinged with impatience. “I said I want you to come to my match. You’re not deaf, are you?”

And just like that, your initial shock morphed into irritation.

Great. Just great.

“Well, can you blame me? It’s not every day a famous player invites someone they barely know,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at him.

Sae shrugged, resting a hand on his hip. “I don’t have anyone else to invite,” he admitted casually. “Besides, you’re not all that bad to talk to.”

Your eyebrow shot up. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you murmured, your tone skeptical.

He met your gaze without hesitation. “You’re someone I enjoy talking to. I’m sick of people who act all formal and fake around me, putting on some persona just because of who I am.” His voice was steady, almost nonchalant. “Not to mention the crazy fans. It’s exhausting.”

He paused, then added, “It’s refreshing talking to someone who doesn’t act like that.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Was he being serious? Judging by his expression, he didn’t seem like the type to lie about something like this.

Your chest tightened, your heartbeat picking up speed.

Were you nervous? Happy? Flustered?

It was hard to tell—everything about this felt foreign, yet oddly familiar. It left you feeling strangely vulnerable.

“Our conversations are also quite pleasant,” Sae added, his tone as flat as ever.

You blinked, your expression instantly deadpan. Did he really just call our “conversations” pleasant?

What a ridiculous statement. The only thing you two ever did was bicker—and by bicker, you meant he annoyed you to no end. Pleasant? Hardly.

You let out a sigh, equal parts confused and exasperated, before replying, “Sure, Sae. I’ll accept your invite.”

The words left your mouth before you could really think about them. Why had you said yes? You could’ve said no—you should’ve said no. That would’ve been the normal response. The usual you response.

But instead, you’d said the opposite.

Strange.

What’s been up with you lately?

"I'll text you the details," Sae said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

And with that, he finally left, pastry in hand, leaving you to process the whirlwind of emotions he'd stirred up.

…🌺…

One day.

The match against Blue Lock Eleven was just one day away.

It was strange—this was the first football match you’d ever been excited about, and honestly, it didn’t feel like you at all. You’d never cared much for sports. Until now.

Was it the thrill of having a big shot like Sae personally invite you to one of his games? Or was it the curiosity of experiencing a live sports match for the first time?

Probably a little bit of both.

But alongside the excitement, there was something else. Nerves.

Actually, scratch that—you were really nervous.

You’d have to go alone—not that being alone bothered you most of the time, but this was different. It would’ve been better to bring a friend.

Maybe Yuko? She could always go, right?

But then again, Sae had personally invited you. That probably meant he’d already arranged for a seat—most likely close to the field. And with how packed the stadium would be, there’d hardly be any open seats nearby. Everyone would be scrambling to get as close as possible.

You groaned, letting your head hang low in frustration.

Looked like you’d just have to suck it up.

“What’s got you looking so down in the dumps?”

You lifted your head, only to be met with none other than Yuko herself.

Speak of the devil.

"Nothing much. Just… thinking," you replied, straightening up to regain your composure.

Yuko raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, stopping just within arm's reach. "About what?"

"Just about an upcoming game," you murmured quietly, crossing your arms as you tried to mask your nerves.

"Why would you be stressed over a game?" Yuko asked, her expression turning confused as she looked at you.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your thoughts. It wouldn’t hurt to tell her, right?

"Well, it’s just that Sae Itoshi invited me to watch one of his games and—"

"WHAT?!" Yuko screamed, cutting you off mid-sentence.

You immediately felt your face flush in embarrassment as her loud shout turned every customer and employee's attention toward you both.

"Yuko! Keep it down!" you hissed, quickly covering her mouth to stop any further outbursts.

"Sborrey," Yuko mumbled, her voice muffled as you kept your hand over her mouth.

You slowly pulled your hand away, gripping her shoulders as you gave her a stern look. "Yuko… please don't shout like that," you grumbled, scolding her gently.

"Mmm, I’ll try," she awkwardly chuckled, a sweatdrop forming on her forehead.

"Anyway… what about Sae Itoshi?" Yuko whispered loudly, leaning so close to your face that you could feel her breath.

"I said, Sae Itoshi invited me to one of his games," you repeated, trying to stay calm.

She froze for a moment, eyes wide. "He… he personally invited you?!" Her voice trailed off in disbelief as she spoke loudly.

"Yuko!" You shot her a glare, but before you could speak again, she broke into a grin that looked almost too wide.

"Yes, he personally invited me," you murmured, now feeling even more awkward under her intense gaze.

"Oh my gosh… OH MY GOSH! Y/n, do you have any idea how lucky you are?!" Yuko practically shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Any girl would kill to have THE Sae Itoshi invite them to his game! How’d you do it? Did you seduce him? Or did you promise him se-”

"Yuko!" you shouted, quickly cutting off whatever inappropriate thought was about to escape her lips.

"Sorry, Y/n… but seriously, tell me! How?" Yuko urged, clasping her hands together with excitement.

You looked away, scratching your chin, before meeting her gaze again. "Well, he just said he enjoyed talking to me and then invited me," you said, trying to downplay the whole thing.

Yuko’s expression immediately dropped, and she stared at you, incredulous. "Are you kidding me? That's it? No love confession or anything?"

"Um… no," you replied, still staring at her, not entirely sure how to react to her reaction.

"Ugh, that's so lame!" Yuko huffed, tugging at her hair in frustration. "Y/n, I thought you were better than this!"

"What do you mean—?"

"Never mind!" Yuko cut you off with an exasperated sigh. "Well, regardless, this is the first time I’ve heard of Sae Itoshi taking an interest in someone he barely knows enough to invite them to his game." She grinned mischievously, raising her eyebrows up and down as she looked you over.

"Yeah… I was kind of shocked myself," you replied, brushing off her teasing with a nonchalant shrug.

"He's definitely interested in you, Y/n!" Yuko exclaimed, grabbing hold of your arm in excitement.

You deadpanned, staring at her in disbelief. Really? The Sae Itoshi, interested in you? What a joke.

But even as you dismissed it, you couldn’t help but wonder. Why had he invited you? Sure, maybe it was because he enjoyed talking to someone who wasn’t fawning over him like the rest of the world, but was that really all?

Is that really all it took?

"You're funny, Yuko," you murmured, gently shaking her off.

"Aww, c’mon, Y/nnnieee!" Yuko whined, practically bouncing on her feet. "He invited you! He could’ve picked anyone else who was 'sane,' but he chose you!" She emphasized the word sane with a teasing grin.

"Yuko, you’re just making this into something it’s not. It’s probably nothing," you said, brushing it off as you started to move away and continue your shift.

If Yuko could, she would have slapped some sense into you.

She hated when you were this oblivious. "You’re hopeless, Y/n," Yuko groaned, shaking her head as she let you do your thing.

With that, Yuko left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Great. Now her words were swirling in your mind, filled with what ifs.

It felt strange—almost disorienting—as your heartbeat quickened along with the rise of these thoughts.

This was definitely not like you. It only made you feel more stressed and confused.

Maybe Yuko was right. You really were hopeless.

Although who could blame you, after everything you've been through?

…🌺…

SAE! SAE! SAE! SAE!" The crowd roared his name, their voices blending into a thunderous chant as the prodigy scored the first goal.

You were completely mesmerized, entranced by his skill. For a moment, you forgot all about the nerves that had been eating at you since this morning.

…(right before the match)…

Come on, Y/N, you'll be fine," Yuko had said earlier, her tone reassuring. "But what if I get lost?" you had asked, chewing on your lip. "I highly doubt that," she replied with a smirk.

Yuko had been trying to comfort you as she drove up to the entrance of the stadium. Since you didn’t have a car, she’d offered to drop you off. Out of the kindness of her heart, she even gave you a full pep talk on the way.

You sighed, sinking further into the passenger seat. "I just don’t get why you can’t take the day off and come with me," you murmured.

Rolling her eyes, Yuko shot you a look. "Y/N, I have another job. I don’t exactly have the luxury to tag along with you today.”

You knew about Yuko's other job. She had told you just yesterday when you asked her to come with you. Still, the idea of navigating a building packed with thousands of people on your own felt overwhelming.

"As much as I love you, Y/N... you need to get out of my car. I'm going to be late," Yuko said, leaning over to push open the passenger-side door.

The word love made you flinch slightly. You weren’t used to hearing it, at least not like that.

"Yuko..." you mumbled, watching her gesture impatiently at the open door.

"Y/N, you’re going to be fine," she said with a firm but reassuring tone. "Just ask someone for directions!"

You hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Fine. Since when did you want me gone so badly?" you asked, feigning offense as you shot her a playful glare.

"Ever since you started making me late!" Yuko shot back, her voice exasperated but light. "Come on, Y/N!"

She kept nudging you to get out, her urgency growing by the second. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but laugh a little as you finally stepped out of the car.

"Okay, okay!" you chuckled softly as you finally stepped out of Yuko's car.

You shut the door with a solid slam and turned toward the stadium entrance. Glancing back one last time, you caught Yuko waving at you before she drove off. A frown crept onto your face as your attention shifted to the massive doors ahead.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside. Instantly, it felt as though someone was twisting your insides. The nerves hit hard.

You wandered through the bustling halls, clutching your ticket like it was a lifeline. But the moment you found your seat, it was like someone flipped a switch. All those negative emotions—gone, replaced by excitement and anticipation.

_______

“GO SAE!" you shouted along with the crowd as he made a goal, cupping your hands around your mouth as if that would make your voice reach him. Deep down, you knew he couldn’t possibly hear you over the deafening roar of the fans chanting his name.

Still, you couldn’t help but grin. You hadn’t expected to enjoy this, not really. But here you were, caught up in the moment, cheering louder than you thought possible.

You smiled, your gaze fixed on the prodigy dominating the field. Admiration filled you, though you couldn’t tell if it was just for his skill—or if there was something more.

From your reserved seat—the one he had bought for you—you watched him intently. And then his eyes found yours.

Your breath hitched as Sae locked eyes with you. The moment stretched, and the longer it did, the warmer you felt, your cheeks heating under his piercing stare. Was that a good thing?

Your palms grew clammy, your heart racing wildly in your chest. And then, just as you thought the intensity might be too much, he smirked. It was a sly, almost teasing look, as if to say, Did you see that?

Your eyes widened slightly as you took in his expression. For the first time, you saw something beyond boredom or disinterest—even anger—on his face. It was subtle, but it was there—a spark of something you couldn’t quite name.

Still, you preferred this over his usual expressionless gaze. That smirk, that piercing look—it made you feel something.

But as much as you enjoyed it, you hated it too. It felt familiar, painfully so. And familiar wasn’t safe. It was dangerous.

You’d felt this way before, and it hadn’t ended well. It left you shattered, broken in ways you swore you’d never let happen again. You couldn’t afford to risk those consequences a second time.

Forcing yourself to breathe deeply, you tried to steady your thoughts, keeping your composure as you held his gaze. Part of you wanted him to look away, to release you from the unspoken tension. Yet another part... didn’t.

It was as if the gods decided for you when Sae finally turned his attention back to the field.

You exhaled sharply, feeling your heart begin to slow. But even as relief washed over you, those lingering feelings—the ones you tried so hard to suppress—still churned within, refusing to let go.

It seemed these lingering "feelings" would take their time to fade, refusing to settle easily.

_______

“Come on, just give me your number, pretty boy!"

Sae didn’t even acknowledge the man’s bold remark, brushing it off as if it hadn’t been said.

Your attention shifted to the source of the comment—a guy with blond hair, the tips dyed pink. He stood out, to say the least. Odd, maybe, but he certainly wasn’t shy.

The game was already in its second half, and you felt more alive and energized than ever. You never imagined you’d enjoy something like this—not in a million years.

The next match was about to start, and you could feel the tension crackling in the air. It radiated from the players on the field and the roaring crowd around you.

They were tied.

This next goal could decide it all.

You sat on the edge of your seat, anticipation coursing through you. Deep down, you hoped for U-20 to win.

Not that you cared too much about the outcome—your loyalty was simple. Sae was on U-20, and he was the only reason you even knew about the team.

Your eyes widened as the player named Shidou seamlessly linked up with Sae. Together, they were nothing short of monsters. Their aggressive, fast-paced gameplay was unmatched, almost unreal. With every precise pass and powerful stride, they closed in on the goal.

But fate had other plans.

In a sudden turn of events, Blue Lock Eleven intercepted the ball. Before you could fully process what was happening, a player named Isagi launched the final shot.

The ball hit the back of the net.

For a heartbeat, the stadium fell silent. Then, chaos erupted—screams, cheers, and a deafening roar from the crowd.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The tension had gripped you so tightly it felt as though the game had you in a chokehold. It was exhilarating—every second of it.

As the crowd began to disperse, you quickly gathered your belongings. But before heading out to meet Yuko, you decided there was one thing you had to do. You needed to see Sae.

Walking down the hallways, you peeked into every room, hoping to find Sae in one of them.

By the time you reached the last door, there was still no sign of him. Where the hell was he?

Letting out a frustrated huff, you pulled your head back and turned to leave. But before you could take another step, you bumped into someone.

"Ah—I'm sorry! Please forgive me, I wasn't paying attenti—"

"Do you always apologize this much, or what?"

You froze. That voice—of course, you knew that voice.

Your head snapped up, and sure enough, there he was. Sae.

"Oh, it’s just you," you said, letting out a breath. "I’ve been looking for you."

"For what?" Sae asked, his sharp gaze fixed on you, his tone as unreadable as ever.

Was he really this dense?

"To congratulate you. Why else?" you said, arching a brow at him.

Sae locked eyes with you, and once again, your heart betrayed you, picking up speed as the silence stretched. Finally, he spoke.

"What’s there to congratulate? We lost," he said flatly.

"Still, you played well," you replied earnestly.

"I guess," Sae muttered, his tone dismissive.

Your jaw tightened. Somehow, he always found a way to get under your skin.

"Could you show a little more gratitude than just ‘I guess’?" you grumbled, shifting your weight onto one foot, irritation bubbling over.

"And what do you want me to say?" he asked, his sharp eyes glancing over your figure.

"A simple ‘thank you’ would be nice," you shot back, your tone dripping with frustration.

Sae stood there, quiet for a moment. Then, in a low voice, he murmured, "Thank you."

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to catch you off guard.

You couldn’t help but smile at his response. “That’s much better. See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?” you teased, your smile unwavering.

Sae took in your smile, then shot back with a snarky reply, “What, do you want me to pick an answer that’ll satisfy you?”

Your smile faltered, and you stared at him, baffled. What was his deal? “Never mind... forget I said anything,” you muttered, letting out a sharp sigh.

A heavy silence fell between you both. It lingered, uncomfortable, as neither of you knew what to say next.

Just as you were about to break the silence, Sae spoke first

“Its best if i get goi-“

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

Sae quickly mumbled as he cut you off, his voice quieter than usual, almost as if he regretted asking.

You blinked, stunned, processing his words slowly. “Huh?” you whispered, your heart skipping a beat. It took a moment for the question to fully sink in. Did he really just ask you that?

Did Sae Itoshi—the Sae Itoshi—just ask you out to dinner?

You stood there, unsure whether you had heard him correctly, your mind racing. Sae, the same guy who had been so indifferent and sharp with you, was now asking you to dinner? The idea felt so out of place, yet somehow, it didn’t seem like a joke.

The silence stretched again, and you wondered if he was waiting for your response.

“Uh, Sae, can I ask why?" you muttered, still reeling from shock.

Sae let out an irritated grumble before responding. "I said it before, didn’t I? You’re the only person who doesn’t go crazy over me. Is it wrong to want some company?" His tone made it clear he was turning this back on you.

"Well, not exactly, no—"

"Then why is it such a problem for you?" he interrupted sharply.

You stood there, staring at him, utterly confused. Why was he blaming you now?

"It’s not a problem," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "It’s just… surprising, that’s all."

But Sae wasn’t ready to let it go. "Why is it such a shocker?" His agitation was growing more obvious.

"It’s not—actually, never mind," you sighed, feeling the frustration creeping in.

You knew this conversation wasn’t going anywhere, and continuing would only make things worse.

Sae let out a satisfied hum, as if your response had confirmed everything he wanted to hear.

Silence crept back in, heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted your gaze elsewhere, refusing to look at him. Something about meeting his eyes made your stomach swirl uneasily.

It was the opposite for Sae, though. His piercing gaze stayed locked on you, sharp and unrelenting like a hawk stalking its prey. He hadn’t looked away from you once.

"So? Your answer?" Sae’s voice cut through the quiet, calm yet demanding.

You responded quickly, almost too quickly. "Uh, yeah. I can. Sure.

Sae's eyes narrowed slightly. You hadn’t even looked at him when you spoke, and for some reason, that ticked him off.

"Why don’t you look at me when I’m talking to you?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation. It was clear he wasn’t just annoyed—he was genuinely angry.

Wow. What a way to cross boundaries, huh?

Still, he had a point.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Why did your palms feel clammy when he stood so close? Why did your heart race like it was trying to escape your chest? Why were you all fidgety?

It couldn’t possibly mean you liked him.

No, of course not. You were just… nervous. Right?

It had to be nerves. This was the longest time any guy had spoken to you, after all. Most of them usually got what they wanted and left.

Actually, thinking about that now made you feel ridiculous—like you were some kind of attention seeker.

Or maybe it was because you felt so small, so insignificant, under the weight of his gaze. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating—a constant reminder of how much larger than life he was. A big shot. Someone untouchable.

And yet, that only made you feel more pathetic.

But what did you really feel?

Maybe—just maybe—he had grown on you. Maybe you had caught feelings. But was it because he stayed longer than anyone else ever had? That thought alone made you feel queasy. It felt wrong.

Desperate.

Attention seeker.

The words echoed in your mind like a cruel whisper. You hated the sound of it. You didn’t want that to be the truth.

But what if you did like him? What if it wasn’t just nerves, or loneliness, or some desperate grasp at the closest thing to affection?

You’d considered the possibility, of course. You weren’t naïve enough to ignore it. But you refused to let it be true.

You weren’t ready—not for this, not for him, not for the chance of heartbreak all over again.

You’d been through it countless times before. And you weren’t sure you could survive it again.

If that’s how you felt—if you really did like him—but he ended up taking what he wanted and leaving like all the others… would you even be able to pick up the pieces this time?

The thought alone was unbearable, and it crushed any shred of hope you might have clung to.

It dampened your mood, dragging it into a deeper, darker place. You wanted to pull back, retreat while you still could. But it was too late now.

"Did you even hear me? What’s up with you and being deaf?"

His sharp tone cut through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. The weight of your emotions dulled, if only for a moment, as irritation took their place.

"I'm not deaf," you muttered, your voice dripping with frustration.

"I doubt that," Sae shot back without missing a beat.

Resentment bubbled inside you, but before you could fully process it, Sae’s voice broke through again. "At least you’re looking at me now."

That stopped you cold.

He was right. You were looking at him now.

Your emotions screeched to a halt, forced into submission by the weight of his words. You didn’t even realize when you’d started meeting his gaze, but now there you were, staring back at him.

It felt like standing in the middle of a battlefield, with nowhere left to run.

"That aside, what time should I pick you up?" Sae asked casually, as if the question was of no real importance to him.

Your eyes widened. Right… you’d agreed to the dinner he offered.

"Uh… anytime in the afternoon is fine," you mumbled, struggling to find your voice.

"5:30 then?" he suggested, his tone as nonchalant as ever.

"Yeah, that should work," you nodded, quickly running through your mental schedule.

"See you on Sunday, then," Sae said abruptly before turning on his heel and walking off, his dismissal clear.

"Yeah… Sunday," you murmured softly, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. He was already out the door.

The moment he left, you let out an exhausted sigh, your body finally relaxing. You hadn’t even realized how stiff you’d been.

But before you could fully unwind, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With a weary hand, you pulled it out, unsure of what—or who—was waiting for you now.

"Yuko 🤡."

The contact name flashed across your screen, pulling you out of your thoughts. Right—Yuko was supposed to pick you up.

You stared at the screen for a moment before silencing the call, deciding not to answer. There wasn’t much to say anyway, and your head felt too cluttered to hold a conversation right now.

Shoving the phone back into your pocket, you hurried toward the exit. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of the earlier exchange with Sae was dragging behind you.

You needed air. You needed to think. And maybe—just maybe—a way to stop the relentless pounding in your chest.

_______

As you stepped out of the building, the familiar sound of Yuko’s voice greeted you.

"Why didn’t you answer my call?!" she exclaimed, leaning halfway out the driver’s side window, her dramatic tone impossible to miss.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a tired smile. "What about it? I’m here now, aren’t I? Be grateful I even saw your call."

Yuko gasped, hand to her chest as if deeply offended. "The audacity!"

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. Her over-the-top antics were a welcome distraction from the weight still lingering in your chest.

"Sooo," she began, eyes glinting with curiosity as she waited for the seatbelt to click, "how was the game?"

"It was good," you replied, sinking into the seat as the exhaustion caught up to you. "Better than I expected."

Yuko hummed, pulling onto the road, but her sideways glance told you she wasn’t entirely convinced by your answer.

"Better than you expected, huh? Was it because Sae Itoshi was there?" Yuko teased, her grin wide as she navigated the familiar route to your beloved sanctuary—home.

You groaned, tilting your head against the seat to glare at her. "No, it wasn’t just because he was there," you grumbled, your tone sharp enough to match your annoyance.

"Oh, really? Well, if you say so…" she chuckled, clearly not buying it.

"Believe what you want, Yuko," you huffed, rolling your eyes. You knew she wouldn’t let it go, but you were too drained to argue.

"Okay, okay," she said, feigning surrender before flashing you another sly glance. "So, if it’s not because of Sae—according to you—what made it better than you expected?"

Her words hung in the air for a moment.

You hesitated, staring out the window as you mulled over her question. The truth was painfully obvious: it was mostly because of Sae. But you’d rather bite your tongue than admit that out loud.

Finally, you hummed, masking your thoughts. “The players were really skilled, and the game was super intense. I was honestly very impressed by their amazing footwork.”

Yuko raised an eyebrow, sparing you a glance as she drove. "Mmm-hmm. Sure, it was all about their footwork," she said, her tone dripping with playful disbelief.

You crossed your arms and leaned back, determined to let the conversation end there. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You weren’t lying about the players’ skill. They really did keep you on the edge of your seat, and the game had been incredible.

"But damn… now you’re making me regret not going," Yuko groaned, dramatically slumping her head onto the steering wheel. Luckily, you were stopped at a red light. "Having more than one job sucks!"

You laughed, unable to help yourself. "It was a fun game," you admitted, watching her over-the-top display.

Yuko sighed heavily, the light turning green as she straightened up and began driving again. "Rub it in why don’t you," she muttered, though her grin betrayed her fake annoyance.

It didn’t take long for the car to fill with her usual nonsense—playful jabs, ridiculous theories, and random observations that seemed to come out of nowhere.

You quarreled the whole way home, with her spouting dumb, shitty jokes and exaggerated stories, while you did your best to tolerate it—barely. Still, there was a comfort in the banter, her chatter distracting you from the quiet heaviness that had lingered after Sae.

By the time you pulled into your driveway, you felt lighter, even if just a little.

…🌺…

Seeing the taillights of her car disappear into the night, you let out a heavy sigh and dropped onto the couch. The weight of the evening pressed down on you as you tossed the apartment keys onto the coffee table. The sharp jingle and dull clack of metal meeting wood cut through the silence, a momentary distraction as you sank deeper into the plush cushions.

Your expression darkened, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. Why? Why was it always Sae that haunted your thoughts, filling your mind with questions you didn’t want to answer? No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the lingering echoes of your earlier conversation with him.

The date you’d agreed to—it was just two days away. The thought twisted your stomach into knots. You wanted to back out, to call it off before it began, but the idea of standing someone up felt even worse. Disappointment was something you despised, even more so when you were the one responsible for it.

A frustrated groan escaped your lips as you buried your face in your hands, rubbing at your skin with rough, almost punishing force. Agitation bubbled beneath the surface, a bombardment of emotions you couldn’t quite name. The room felt suffocating, the silence too loud, and yet all you could do was sit there, wrestling with a decision you didn’t know how to make.

You dropped your hands into your lap, staring blankly ahead as your thoughts swirled like a relentless storm, each one louder and more suffocating than the last. The idea of possibly liking him—or worse, getting attached—clawed at your mind. It was a question you couldn’t stop asking yourself, no matter how much you wanted to bury it.

You clung to the hope that it was merely the second option, attachment. Even though you despised both possibilities, the latter felt like the safer bet. Safer, because it didn’t require vulnerability. Safer, because it didn’t come with the promise of heartbreaking pain.

But the thought of giving yourself to someone—as a lover, as a partner—sent a wave of nausea through you. It was too much. The mere idea of trusting someone with the fragile pieces of your heart again was unbearable. You’d rather push them away, let them detach cleanly and painlessly, than risk being left exposed, broken, and abandoned once more.

Hope? No, that was long gone. It had slipped through your fingers like sand, scattering into nothingness long before tonight. You had stopped believing in the gentle caresses and warm embraces of true love. Those things weren’t meant for you. They were for people who hadn’t already been shattered. People who hadn’t spent years picking up pieces they could never fit back together.

You slumped further into the couch, letting the weight of that realization press down on you. The silence wrapped itself around your thoughts, heavy and suffocating, as the void within you grew wider. If love had ever been a possibility, it wasn’t anymore. And you’d made peace with that. Or so you told yourself.

…🌺…

As the hours passed, your anxiety and stress got worse.

You were basically going to have a ‘date’ with Sae in less than 24 hours. And of course with the weight of this realization—it didnt help as Yuko was nagging your ear off as usual.

”Oh come on Y/n, are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry Yuko, what was that?”

You were pulled away from your thoughts as Yuko called you out.

Yuko gave you a slight scowl before returning to her unnecessary speech. However, as soon as she started speaking, your mind subconsciously ignored her words as you began to think about it Sae once more.

It started to become a habit now—thinking about Sae. It was indeed a troublesome habit you’ll admit, but you couldn't help it.

It’s weird. A guy with few words who started showing up at the place you worked at not that long ago—now starting to take such an impactful and heavy toll on you? It was something you could have never predicted.

“And then she thought it was a good idea too—Y/n!” Yuko shouted, grabbing your attention once more.

Your gaze snapped back to Yuko as you were met with an angry look. “Sorry Yuko.” you apologized.

“Are you serious Y/n? Is my story not that entertaining to you?” Yuko spoke as she took a step closer.

“No that's not it all. It's just…somethings been on my mind lately.” you spoke earnestly.

“Spill.” She demanded, not wasting a breath.

You let out a soft chuckle at her antics as you basically gave her a rundown on the encounter with Sae.

_______

“Y-You mean…its an actual DATE?!” Yuko shouted as a very unnatural, wide grin overtook her face.

“Uh I guess..” you sweatdropped, taking a step away from Yuko.

Yuko squealed like a fangirl as she ran up to you, squeezing the life out of you as she gave you her signature hug, pushing your face down to the plush of her breasts.

“Yuko! That's enough…” You mumbled out as she had you caged in.

Yuko reluctantly let you go as she gave you some space.

“Y/n, I told you. WHAT DID I SAY FROM THE BEGGINING! This man is into you! And its Sae Itoshi out of all these men!

“Yuko…its just a friendly date. He's not into me like that…I think.” You spoke with a bit of uncertainty.

“Why are you in denial Y/n?! I have never heard from the media or anywhere of Sae Itoshi inviting a girl he just met not that long ago to dinner just for ‘friendly talk’. I am telling you he's into YOU!” Yuko rambled on, getting some sense into your head.

“Yuko…i think your overlooking this maybe a bit too much,” you mumbled as you tried to drop Yuko’s accusations.

Yuko paused. She slowly turned her head towards you with a deadpan expression. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Y/n…are you fucking serious right now?” Yuko spoke with an alarming calm tone.

Yuko took a couple step towards you as she stared you down. An unreadable glint flashed in her eyes as she stood quiet. “If I could Y/n…i would beat you senseless if it means I can finally get this through your head. Its a shame I love you too much to do that.” Yuko finally spoke as she let out a sigh.

“Do I take that as a threat or…” you mumbled, slightly startled by her actions and words.

“Nope!” Yuko chuckled as she stepped away from you. “Ill let you be Y/n. But trust me when I say he’s interested.” Yuko voiced as she looked at you.

“How can you be certain though Yuko?” you spoke.

Yuko smiled at you before she left. Her steps slowly receding as she gave you one last glance before leaving you to do your job. “I know men, Y/n.”

…🌺…

“I'll pick you up. What's your address?"

"It's *****”

"Alright. I'll be there in about 10 minutes."

You set your phone down on the nightstand, releasing a shaky exhale. Even texting Sae was nerve-wracking.

Rising slowly from the couch, you headed into your bedroom to give yourself one last look in the mirror. You didn’t want to seem underdressed—not for a date with Sae. Oh, especially not with the Sae Itoshi.

Dragging your feet across the creaking floorboards, you pushed open the bedroom door. You stopped short in front of the full-length mirror, taking a moment to steel yourself.

You stared at yourself, your own reflection staring back. But the image before you felt foreign, like a mask you no longer recognized. The girl in the mirror seemed whole, unbroken, but you knew better—everything she showed was a lie. Beneath her composed surface was the weight of every heartbreak, every whispered promise that shattered like glass.

You saw your past in her eyes, a pool of anguish and betrayal. Men who touched but never stayed, who spoke of love yet only took what they wanted—leaving nothing but fragments of yourself behind. They had used you, consumed you, and discarded you, their intentions never pure, their affection hollow. You craved love, dreamed of it as something beautiful, but each experience taught you the same painful truth: love wasn’t real. It was an illusion, a cruel trick life played to make you believe in something that didn’t exist.

And yet, as much as you wanted to give up, as much as the mirror whispered that hope was foolish, you couldn’t stop the ache. The craving for love was carved within you. You wanted to be held, cherished, seen—not for what you could offer, but for who you were. But with each passing day, fear groped tighter around your heart. What if love would only break you again? What if the cost of trying was more than you could bear?

You longed for someone to prove you wrong, to show you love wasn’t just a fantasy crafted by movies and books. But even that hope felt dangerous. Could you risk it? Could you open the door to your heart one more time, knowing it could destroy you if it all fell apart again? If someone could rewrite what love means to you, would you let them?

It was odd. Very odd, indeed, that in the midst of such vile and upsetting thoughts, Sae appeared in your mind.

But why?

Why was it him who came to mind?

You’d only known the guy for barely two months. Was that really enough time to feel yourself growing... attached? The thought was confusing—so confusing it made your head spin.

A frown crept across your face. Yes, confusing was the perfect word. It was almost impossible to imagine Sae and love in the same sentence. The word felt foreign and distant, like it belonged to a language you could never hope to understand.

The sudden chime of your doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts. Sae was here. How much time had passed?

You grabbed your belongings in a rush, practically stumbling to the front door. Pausing for a moment, you let out a deep breath, steadying yourself. The nerves were hitting you like a shit ton of bricks, threatening to overwhelm you.

But you could manage. At least, you hoped you could.

You opened the door, and there he was—Sae Itoshi, standing casually yet exuding that air of quiet confidence he always seemed to carry.

Your eyes trailed over his figure, taking in his outfit: a brown blazer layered over a plain white T-shirt and a pair of fitted black pants that somehow managed to look both fitted and effortlessly relaxed.

As you took in his appearance, it seemed he was doing the same to you.

“You actually look decent for once. I was half-expecting your outfit to be as bad as those crappy work uniforms,” Sae remarked, his tone as dry as ever.

Of course. Not a single day passed without at least one of his signature insults.

“Thanks. You don’t look bad yourself,” you muttered, biting back your irritation—a skill you’d honed to near perfection in these past two months.

Sae let out a low hum, a sound that could almost be mistaken for agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upward ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “The car’s outside. Let’s go.”

You gave a short nod and stepped out, pausing only to lock the door behind you. The cool night air greeted you as you followed him down the path, nerves still fluttering in your chest but your steps steady enough to keep up.

You followed behind Sae as he led the way to his car, his confident strides making it clear he expected you to keep up. When you reached the sleek vehicle, he headed straight for the driver’s side without so much as a glance in your direction.

What a gentleman.

Suppressing an irritated sigh, you opened the passenger door yourself and slid into the seat. As you settled in, your gaze drifted—unbidden—to Sae. His hands, calloused and veined, gripped the handle firmly as he opened his door. Slim, strong, and steady, they were surprisingly... attractive.

A sudden warmth rushed to your cheeks, and you blinked, snapping yourself out of it. Really? Were you seriously paying attention to his hands? This wasn’t like you. But, embarrassingly, you could now understand Yuko’s endless rants about the appeal of a man’s hands.

You shook the thought away, pressing your lips into a thin line as Sae slid into the driver’s seat. He shot you a brief glance, his teal eyes sharp, curious, but ultimately uninterested enough to probe further.

“So, uh... you have a destination in mind?” you asked, your voice cutting through the awkward silence.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t have a place in mind, would I?” Sae replied, his tone matter-of-fact as he started the car.

“Yeah...” you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed by your question. Why was it always so hard to hold a normal conversation with this man?

The drive was quiet at first, the low hum of the engine filling the space. But you couldn’t help noticing Sae glancing at you every so often, his teal eyes flicking toward you before quickly returning to the road. It wasn’t subtle—he was clearly taking in your appearance.

The attention made you squirm slightly in your seat, the silence growing heavier with every glance. Finally, you broke it. “Do I have something on my face or...?”

Sae’s gaze shifted fully to you for a brief moment, his expression calm but entirely unreadable. Caught in the act, it seemed. “No,” he said, his voice as smooth and detached as always. “I’m just... still surprised you managed to look this put together outside of your uniform.”

“Put together?” you repeated, eyebrows raising as you tried to determine whether or not to be offended.

“Yeah. You look good.”

The words landed like a wave out of the blue. Your eyes widened, and an undeniable blush crept across your cheeks.

Sae Itoshi—the Sae Itoshi—just said you looked good.

You opened your mouth, searching for a response, but nothing came out. All you could do was turn your gaze toward the window, attempting to hide the warmth that flooded your cheeks. Meanwhile, Sae returned his attention to the road, his expression as unreadable as ever, as if he hadn’t just sent your heart racing.

Your stomach churned, a confusing mix of queasiness and ecstasy, while your heart hammered relentlessly in your chest. You hated it—and enjoyed it at the same time.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sae glancing at you through the faint reflection in the window. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips, low and rich, breaking the silence in the car.

The sound sent a shiver down your spine. It was a rare, almost musical laugh that you hadn’t heard from him before.

Your ears perked up instinctively, and before you could stop yourself, you turned to look at him. Sae’s face, usually so composed and indifferent, held the faintest trace of a smile. The corners of his lips curved softly, and even his sharp teal eyes seemed to soften, crinkling ever so slightly with the expression.

His smile—rare and beautiful—was utterly mesmerizing. His smile resembled something of a masterpiece, delicate and breathtaking, like standing before the most sacred painting in a museum. The kind of art that pulls you in, making the world fade around you, leaving only the singular beauty in front of you. The curve of his lips, the gentle crinkle at the corners of his eyes, the faintest hint of warmth softening his usually stoic expression—it all felt impossibly sacred. It was the kind of sight that engraved itself into your memory, refusing to be forgotten.

"You laughed," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile perfection of the moment. Your gaze stayed fixed on him, wide-eyed and awestruck, unable to look away.

His expression shifted, the corners of his mouth faltered yet still tilted upward, though now tinged with faint curiosity at your reaction. You barely noticed. The sight of him like this—so unguarded, so human—had stolen every ounce of your focus, making your chest ache with something you couldn’t put into words.

“Am I not allowed? Why is it such a shock to you that I can smile?” Sae asked, the same soft expression lingering on his face as he spoke.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. “No, that’s not what I meant! It’s just... I’ve never seen you make any expression other than annoyance or indifference,” you said earnestly, your words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Sae tilted his head slightly, as though your statement was absurd. “I’m not some expressionless robot. You do realize that, right?” he replied, his usual sarcasm laced with a surprisingly lighthearted tone.

Before you could open your mouth to defend yourself, his voice cut in again, smooth and unbothered.

“Well, would you look at that—we’re here.”

_______

The restaurant was... nice. No, very nice. The kind of nice that made you sit a little straighter in your chair and second-guess your outfit. Everything from the polished marble floors to the soft glow of chandeliers above screamed luxury. You couldn’t help but feel out of place.

You’d never set foot in a restaurant like this before—linen napkins folded like origami, waiters moving with the precision of dancers. It wasn’t hard to imagine that Sae frequented places like this. He looked perfectly at home, his tailored outfit exuding effortless sophistication. Even his so-called “casual” attire seemed worlds apart from your own, and the subtle glint of jewelry he always wore hinted at an expensive taste you couldn’t begin to comprehend.

"Have you decided what to order yet?" Sae’s calm voice broke through your thoughts. He was still scanning the menu, his expression unreadable as ever.

You glanced back at the glossy menu in your hands, the rows of elegant dish names doing little to help your decision. "No, not really," you admitted, glancing up at him. "Everything looks good. I can’t decide."

Sae set his menu down, his gaze shifting to you with that steady confidence of his. "Then order whatever you find even slightly appetizing," he said, as though it was the simplest solution in the world.

You hesitated, your eyes lingering on him as you wrestled with a pang of guilt. "Are you sure? Is that okay...?" you asked softly, your voice trailing off. The weight of the prices on the menu and the sheer grandeur of the place were making you second-guess everything.

"Y/n, I have more than enough to cover the meal," Sae said, his tone as casual as ever. He leaned back slightly, glancing around the restaurant with an almost bored expression. "I could buy this entire place if I wanted to."

Wow. Nothing quite like Sae's unintentional flexes to remind you just how wide the gap was between your lives. Standing next to him on any given day was enough to make you feel like an unemployed, wandering vagabond.

"Ah, right. I forgot how disgustingly rich you are," you grumbled under your breath, a sigh slipping past your lips as you slouched back into your chair.

He didn’t react, just offered you a faint shrug as if to say, Well, it’s true.

Soon enough, the waiter returned, and you gave your order, still feeling a pang of guilt for indulging in food you weren’t even sure you’d like. But as the thought lingered, you steeled yourself. Actually, no—screw the guilt. If Sae wanted to flaunt his wealth and bring you to a place like this, the least you could do was enjoy it. Think of it as compensation for dealing with his bluntness and lack of tact on a daily basis. Yes, this was your reward.

Still, the moments after the waiter left were... awkward. Sitting across from Sae in silence was like waiting for a storm that may or may not ever hit. The quiet wasn’t necessarily tense, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. You debated pulling out your phone but ultimately decided against it. It would feel rude, and you weren’t about to be that person.

To your surprise, Sae broke the silence first.

"So," he began, his voice low but steady, "how was your day?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Uh... it was fine, I guess. Nothing exciting," you replied, wondering what had prompted him to initiate small talk.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made it clear he wasn’t just asking out of politeness. "Do you have any pets?" he asked next, his tone still casual but carrying a thread of genuine curiosity.

The question made you pause. This was... new. Sae wasn’t exactly known for his conversational efforts, and yet here he was, actively engaging. You decided to roll with it. "No, I don’t, but I’ve always wanted a dog," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "What about you? I can’t imagine you having time for a pet."

He shrugged again, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. "You’re right. Too much effort," he said simply, though there was a faint amusement in his tone.

The conversation had been flowing smoothly, surprisingly so, until Sae’s next question brought it to an abrupt halt.

"Have you dated anyone?" he asked, his voice casual but direct, the weight of his gaze making it impossible to avoid.

Your eyes widened slightly at the unexpected question, and for a moment, you froze. Quickly, you composed yourself, forcing a small, nonchalant smile onto your face. "Yeah, actually. I’ve dated a couple of people," you replied evenly, though your voice carried a faint tension that betrayed you.

Sae’s sharp eyes didn’t miss it. He wasn’t just observant—he was a prodigy at reading between the lines, piecing together the truths people tried to hide. The brief flicker of discomfort that passed over your face before you answered didn’t go unnoticed. He didn’t pry, though. Instead, he filed it away silently, as if respecting a boundary you hadn’t explicitly set.

"Well, what about you?" you asked, seizing the opportunity to shift the focus onto him. Your tone was light, almost teasing, though a part of you was genuinely curious. "Have you dated anyone?"

Sae leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet hum as if considering how much he wanted to say. "Not really," he began, his tone even. "Just a couple."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his candor.

"The girls I dated were... aggravating," he admitted with a sigh, tilting his head back and closing his eyes briefly. His expression was calm, but the faint furrow in his brow suggested lingering annoyance. "They wanted too much. Too clingy, too demanding. I couldn’t stand it."

A small chuckle slipped past your lips, the sound light and unrestrained. "That’s surprising," you said with a laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as if to stifle it.

Sae opened his eyes at your reaction, turning his attention to you. For a moment, he didn’t speak, his gaze steady as it lingered on your face. He studied you—the curve of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Finally, he broke the silence. "How so?"

Your laughter quieted, but a playful smile lingered as you met his gaze. "Well, you don’t exactly look—or act—like the type of guy who indulges in relationships," you admitted, leaning back slightly in your chair.

Sae cocked an eyebrow, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Really? That’s funny, because at first, you didn’t look like the type of girl to even know what a relationship is," he quipped, the smugness in his tone unmistakable.

You blinked, caught off guard by the remark, before narrowing your eyes at him. "Oh, come on," you muttered, deadpanning as you leaned forward. "That’s so unfair."

He chuckled softly, the sound rare but genuine, and you couldn’t help but feel the tension in your chest ease. "Jokes aside," he said, his smirk fading into something more sincere, "you’re quite the looker. You’re on the attractive side, you know." His tone was casual, but his gaze held steady, focused entirely on you. "I’m not really surprised you’ve been in relationships."

A faint blush spread across your cheeks as his words settled in, leaving you flustered in a way that made your heart race. Sae always had this way of throwing you off balance, his calm yet blunt remarks stirring a confusing mix of emotions. Why did he affect you like this? You glanced away shyly, mumbling, "Thanks, I guess... you’re not bad yourself."

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt beneath the table, trying to focus on anything but the heat rising to your face. But, of course, Sae couldn’t let you off that easily.

"I know I am," he said, his tone dripping with casual arrogance. "My looks are way above average, after all."

You snapped your head up at his words, a small grunt of frustration escaping your lips. Your narrowed gaze locked onto him. "You know," you grumbled, crossing your arms, "I liked it better when you were expressionless."

But even as the words left your mouth, you knew they weren’t true. If anything, you lived for the rare moments when Sae’s stoic mask slipped, revealing hints of his humor, his smugness, or even just his rare smiles.

Sae’s lips twitched slightly, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as he shrugged. "Life doesn’t always give you what you want," he remarked, his voice calm and measured but laced with the slightest tease. "Guess you’ll just have to deal with it."

The sheer smugness in his tone made your irritation bubble over, and an exasperated scoff slipped from your lips. You glared at him, but Sae remained unbothered, his smirk now fully formed as he leaned back in his chair.

He was enjoying this—enjoying the way he was getting under your skin, the way he could pull these reactions out of you so easily

After a round of playful—and not-so-playful—bickering, the food finally arrived.

The dishes were plated with such precision and artistry that they looked almost too good to eat. Almost. The aroma wafted up, rich and tantalizing, and your mouth watered instantly. Your excitement was palpable, your gaze flitting from one dish to the next as the waiters carefully placed them on the table. Words failed to describe the sheer joy your taste buds anticipated, and your expression said it all.

Sae glanced up from his plate, his eyes settling on you. A soft chuckle, barely audible, slipped past his lips as he took in the sight of your excitement. It wasn’t loud or mocking—more like a quiet, amused acknowledgment of how endearing you looked. From his perspective, it was as if this was your first real meal. He found himself wanting to memorize the moment, the way your eyes sparkled, your lips curving into an unconscious smile at the sight of the food.

You didn’t waste a second. Grabbing your utensils, you dug in, the first bite sending a wave of satisfaction through you. The flavors were indescribable—rich, balanced, and utterly heavenly. Each morsel seemed to melt in your mouth, and your body visibly relaxed with each bite.

Meanwhile, Sae hadn’t touched his food. He rested his chin on one hand, watching you with a soft, almost imperceptible smirk. He wasn’t sure what was more fascinating—the way you seemed utterly transported by the meal or the unguarded happiness on your face. You were like an open book in this moment, and he found himself… intrigued.

When you finally noticed his lack of movement, you paused mid-bite, narrowing your eyes at him. "What?" you asked, your voice muffled by food but still laced with suspicion.

Sae shook his head slightly, his smirk growing. "Nothing. Just… you really like your food, huh?"

"Of course, I do," you shot back, quickly swallowing so you could defend yourself properly. "It’s amazing! How are you not eating yet?!"

"I was just enjoying the view," he remarked casually, his tone as calm as ever, though his words carried a teasing edge.

Your cheeks flushed, and you glared at him. "Well, stop staring and eat your food before it gets cold," you muttered, your irritation half-hearted.

Sae finally relented, picking up his utensils and diving into his own meal. The two of you ate in companionable silence after that, the earlier tension easing into something more comfortable.

Between bites, your gaze flickered to him, catching the subtle way his posture relaxed, the way he seemed content. Maybe it was the food, or maybe it was the company, but the moment felt… nice. Natural.

And though neither of you said it aloud, the quiet comfort of eating together spoke volumes on its own.

…🌺…

"The food was great. I really enjoyed it," you said as the two of you walked toward his parked car. The evening air was cool, and the soft glow of the streetlights painted everything in a warm, muted hue.

Sae glanced at you, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. "It sure looked like you enjoyed it, considering the way you stuffed your face," he remarked, his tone as deadpan as ever.

Your face instantly flushed a deep red, embarrassment creeping up your neck. "Hey!" you shot back, turning toward him with wide eyes. "You can’t criticize me for that! This was… new to me! I was just… excited, okay?"

The words tumbled out in your attempt to defend yourself, but the more you spoke, the more you realized how ridiculous you sounded. You huffed, crossing your arms as you stole a glance at Sae, waiting for his response.

But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just looked at you, his expression softening as a warm, genuine smile spread across his face.

It caught you completely off guard.

The embarrassment that had been bubbling inside you vanished almost instantly, replaced by a strange, calming warmth. There was something about the way he smiled—rare and unguarded—that made everything else seem trivial. For a moment, it was just the two of you, standing there in the quiet evening, and all the teasing, awkwardness, and uncertainty faded away.

This whole evening had been… different. Odd, yes, but enjoyable in a way you hadn’t expected.

Sae opened the car door for you, gesturing for you to get in. As you slid into the passenger seat, you found yourself sneaking one last glance at him, his faint smile lingering in your mind.

Maybe this wasn’t just dinner. Maybe it was the start of something more.

_______

"That’s your apartment, right?" Sae asked, pointing toward the familiar building as he brought the car to a stop.

"Yeah," you replied with a nod, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car.

To your surprise, Sae stepped out as well, his movements casual as he fell in step behind you. You turned to face him, your brows furrowing in confusion. "What are you doing?"

He met your gaze, hands shoved into his pockets, his tone as calm and nonchalant as ever. "Walking you to your apartment. Isn’t that how you’re supposed to treat a lady?"

You blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected reply. Of all the times for him to act like a gentleman, now was the moment he chose? His words felt both sincere and teasing, leaving you feeling both confused and slightly amused.

Shaking your head, a small laugh escaped your lips. "Whatever," you muttered, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile.

The two of you walked up to the building together. As you reached your door, you fished around in your pocket for your key. The sound of metal jingling filled the air as you finally pulled it out and unlocked the door, turning the key with a satisfying click.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside and turned around, expecting Sae to leave. But he was still there, standing just outside the doorway, his expression unreadable.

The longer he stood there, the more awkward the moment became. You felt a twinge of guilt, unsure if he was waiting for something or simply being polite. After a beat of hesitation, you sighed and pushed the door open wider, gesturing for him to come in.

"You might as well come in," you said, your voice soft but resigned.

Sae raised an eyebrow, as if slightly amused by your reaction, but he didn’t say anything. With a small nod, he stepped inside, his presence instantly filling the space in a way that felt both strange and oddly comforting.

Sae kicked off his shoes at the entrance and stepped further inside, his eyes sweeping over the room. His gaze lingered on the various pieces of decor and furniture, taking everything in with an unreadable expression. One by one, his eyes moved from the small bookshelf in the corner to the slightly mismatched throw pillows on the couch. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm and measured. "So this is your apartment, huh? Cozier than I expected."

You turned your gaze sharply toward him, a familiar irritation bubbling within you. It seemed Sae had an unmatched talent for making even his compliments sound like backhanded remarks. "You always think so little of me, don’t you?" you grumbled, crossing your arms as you watched him continue his casual inspection of your space.

Sae glanced at you briefly, unfazed. "I judge based on what’s shown on the outside," he said with a shrug, his hands still buried in his pockets. His tone was neutral, almost indifferent, but you could sense a hint of teasing beneath it.

Letting out a sigh, you brushed past him and made your way to the couch, the plush cushions welcoming you as you sank into them. You stretched out slightly, the tension in your body melting away as you made yourself comfortable. "Well, I guess that makes you the ultimate judge of character, huh?" you muttered, your voice tinged with sarcasm.

You slouched into the couch, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The day had been long, but the quiet hum of the apartment seemed to melt the tension from your body. You turned your head, and your gaze was immediately captured by Sae's piercing teal eyes, watching you with a calm intensity.

A strange warmth bloomed in your chest, fluttering like an unspoken secret between you. "So," you started, your voice laced with casual curiosity as you fought to push the feeling aside, "why did you willingly step into my apartment? Not exactly your usual scene."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as always. "Why not? I was bored." Sae's reply was as nonchalant as ever, but the way he strolled over to join you on the couch betrayed a certain comfort in being here. He sank into the cushions beside you, letting out the faintest of sighs, as if your living room had somehow become his sanctuary. "Besides," he added after a beat, "it was pleasant hanging out with you. I wasn’t ready for that to end yet."

His words struck you harder than you cared to admit, and a maddening blush began to creep up your cheeks. You quickly turned your head, a small, nervous laugh escaping your lips as you scrambled to keep your composure. "So, you're saying I'm fun to be around, huh?" you teased lightly, hoping the playfulness would mask the sudden erratic rhythm of your heart.

For a moment, Sae’s face remained impassive, but then a subtle smile curved his lips—rare and fleeting, like a secret he allowed you to glimpse. "More or less," he said, his voice low but tinged with an undeniable warmth.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt charged, like the pause before a thunderstorm. You weren’t sure if it was the proximity, the way his knee almost brushed yours, or the way he looked at you as if he could see past every wall you’d carefully built.

"You’re full of surprises, Itoshi," you murmured, leaning back against the couch. The teasing edge in your voice was softer now, replaced by a quiet curiosity you couldn’t quite hide. "Never thought I’d hear you admit to enjoying anyone’s company."

He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching as though considering whether to respond. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locked onto yours.

"Maybe you’re an exception," he said simply.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t sure either of you were ready to unpack. Your heart skipped a beat, and for once, you didn’t have a clever retort.

The faint sound of rain began to patter against the window, filling the silence. You turned your gaze toward it, your mind racing. "Exception, huh?" you finally murmured, trying to sound indifferent, though your voice betrayed the faintest waver.

He didn’t reply immediately, and when you dared to glance back at him, you found him watching you again, his expression softer now. "You don’t have to overthink it," he said, his tone a touch gentler than before. "I just… didn’t feel like being alone today."

Something in his admission made your chest tighten, but instead of pressing him further, you simply nodded. "Well," you said lightly, offering him a small smile, "good thing you’re here, then. I wasn’t planning on being alone either."

The rain continued its rhythmic melody, and as the evening stretched on, the distance between you seemed to shrink, both physically and emotionally. Neither of you said much, but in the quiet company of one another, there was a sense of understanding that didn’t need words.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the hum of the television filling the air. You glanced over at Sae, wondering what was running through his mind. After a moment, you decided to break the quiet.

"So, Sae," you began, your voice trying to sound casual. "Do you want to do anything, or...? I imagine you’re probably getting bored by now."

His eyes met yours, his gaze unwavering. He looked... contemplative, as if he were lost in thought about something important, though he didn’t seem eager to share.

"I’m fine," he mumbled after a long pause, though his words didn't match the slight tension in his expression. It was clear there was something on his mind, something weighing him down, but he wasn’t ready to say what it was.

You nodded, respecting his silence, and leaned back into the couch, glancing out the window. The evening sky was a soft mix of dark colors, but your mind kept drifting back to him. The way his demeanor shifted, how he seemed a little distant.

After a second, you decided to try again, pushing past the silence. "So, tell me about your career," you asked, your voice gentle but curious. "What’s it like—"

Before you could finish, Sae’s hand shot out, and in one swift motion, he grasped your chin, gently but firmly, and tilted your face towards his.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart skipped a beat. You were so close, your eyes wide in shock as you stared at him, feeling his breath against your skin. The moment hung between you like a fragile thread. You were frozen, not sure what was happening or what had made him do this.

He stared into your eyes, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes once more. Every movement of his felt deliberate, almost like he was studying you, and you couldn’t look away. It was as if the world had paused around the two of you, the silence between you thickening with each passing second.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, its rapid beat deafening in your ears. It was as though your entire body was on edge, strung taut with anticipation, and yet you couldn’t move. You were frozen, caught in the intensity of the moment.

Sae shifted his grip, his fingers tracing your jawline before he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently beneath your eye. The touch was soft, almost tender.

And that’s when you saw it—love.

You almost flinched at the thought. His eyes were so focused, so soft, as if they were seeing you in a way no one ever had before. There was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you, something raw.

Love?

The word echoed in your mind, heavy and foreign. You hadn’t used that word in so long, not with anyone. And certainly not with him. It was difficult to fathom that someone like Sae—so guarded, so distant—could feel that way, could look at you like this.

The panic started to rise in your chest. If this was what he felt—love—then what did that mean for you? For this? You weren’t sure if you were ready to love again. Not like this, not so suddenly, and not with someone who seemed so far removed from the idea of it.

It felt as though the weight of the world was pressing down on you, immense and overwhelming. Would you let him love you like this? Could you let him?

More importantly, could you let yourself love him?

You weren’t ready. Every thought in your mind screamed for you to pull back, to protect yourself from whatever this was. What if Sae broke you? What if you let yourself fall into this and it all came crashing down, just like before? You didn’t want to be broken again. You didn’t want to be tossed aside, left alone to pick up the pieces of a love that wasn’t real.

It hurt. The weight of your own fears, of what could happen, felt suffocating. You didn’t know what to do, torn between wanting to return his feelings and the fear of what would happen if you did. You wanted so badly to let love consume you, to let him pull you in, but you couldn’t ignore the voice that warned you against it.

What if he was just using you?

You couldn’t risk it. The idea of being hurt again, of losing yourself in someone else only to be discarded, was too much to bear. But still, the desire to let go, to give in, lingered within you like a quiet ache. Were you really this hopeless? Pathetic, even?

Tears threatened to spill as you felt Sae’s palm still resting against your face, his touch a tender reminder of everything you wanted but couldn’t allow yourself to have. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it was no use. The tears slowly began to fall, too overwhelming to hold back.

Sae’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his other hand moved to cup the other side of your face, his touch gentle and careful, as though he was afraid of breaking you, too.

With a softness that took you off guard, Sae wiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin. You didn’t know what to make of it. It was so different, so unexpected. No one had ever been this gentle, this affectionate with you before, not in the way Sae was. His touch felt like he was holding you together, not pulling you apart.

Sae’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place—gentleness, sincerity, something that made your heart flutter in spite of the walls you had built. "Y/n," he whispered, his voice calm, almost tender. "Please don’t cry."

Quiet tears continued to fall, each one carrying the weight of everything you’d been holding back for so long. His thumb gently traced your reddened cheek, and his face leaned in closer, his presence both soothing and overwhelming. The warmth of his touch felt so different—so real.

"You don’t have to cry," he murmured again, his voice low and soft, carrying an unmistakable sense of care. "Y/n… I don’t know what happened for you to tear up like this, but I promise you… whatever happened in the past, I won’t replicate it." His words were sincere, the kind of promise that, for a brief moment, made the pain inside you seem a little more bearable.

For a split second, you searched his face, desperately trying to find any hint of insincerity, any trace of deception hidden beneath the calmness in his eyes. But there was nothing—nothing that suggested he was lying. His tone was steady, unyielding.

Could you trust him? Could you really let him in?

The vulnerability he was showing, the way he was looking at you, it warmed your heart in a way that felt so foreign. So safe. It was everything you didn’t know you needed, and yet it was right in front of you.

"You promise…?" Your voice was small, shaky, as the uncertainty you’d been carrying for so long finally slipped into your words.

Sae’s eyes softened even more, and he lowered his gaze slightly, as if he could feel the weight of what you were carrying, of the hesitation in your voice. He didn’t speak for a moment, just letting the silence stretch between you two, as if understanding how deep the scars of your past must have been.

Whatever had happened to you, whatever pain you’d endured before—it had clearly left a mark on you. A deep, unhealed wound that made it hard to trust, to let anyone close. Sae understood that, and for the first time, you saw that in his eyes: understanding, not judgment. Compassion, not pity.

"Yes," he finally said, his voice firm but gentle. "I promise."

The sincerity in his words felt like a lifeline, like the first breath of air after being submerged in water for too long. And in that moment, despite the storm of emotions inside you, you allowed yourself to believe him. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but you could take this one step.

You could let him in.

(Song recommendation: Im Yours - Isabel LaRosa)

Sae's smile softened at you, a warmth in his gaze that spoke more than his actions ever could. Then, without a word, he leaned in, slowly pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, gentle as though testing the waters, but it quickly deepened as his hands moved to the side of your neck, holding you closer, grounding you in the moment.

Your hands instinctively moved to his chest, resting against the firm muscles you could feel even through his clothes. The warmth of his body against yours was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but be drawn further into him.

For a moment, Sae pulled away, just enough to catch his breath, but his eyes never left yours. And then, just as quickly, he recaptured your lips in his, this time more urgent, more insistent.

His tongue gently brushed across your lips, a silent request, and you gasped, heart racing at the intensity of it all. He took that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it was like electricity sparked between you. His tongue moved against yours in a slow, deliberate dance, each movement an invitation to fall deeper into him, into this moment.

Everything else faded away. The world outside, the thoughts racing through your mind—none of it mattered now. All that existed was the heat between you two, the closeness that felt like it had been building for so long.

Sae groaned softly into your mouth, his hand threading gently through your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine. There was hesitation in the movement, as though he was aware of the fine line between desire and discomfort, but the tension in his touch made your pulse race.

The gentle tug on your hair pulled you back slightly, causing your lips to break apart for a fleeting moment. But before you could gather your breath, Sae's lips were back on yours, this time with a bit more force, more urgency. The kiss deepened, and the pressure pushed you slightly back onto the couch. Sae didn’t hesitate—he used the shift in position to his advantage, quickly climbing over you, his body covering yours, pinning you gently but firmly to the soft cushions beneath.

His legs shifted, placing themselves outside of yours, trapping you in place with a controlled intensity that made your breath catch. His chest pressed against yours, the warmth of his body melding with yours as you felt his weight settle over you.

After a moment, Sae reluctantly detached his lips from yours, his breath coming shallow and quick. He gazed down at you, his eyes no longer just filled with tenderness or care. There was something new there. Something darker, deeper. Lust.

His voice was soft, almost hesitant, but there was an undeniable edge to it. "Y/n... would you let me?" he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours, his body still hovering over you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

A wave of emotion swelled within you, something foreign and stirring. Sae had asked for permission—something none of the others had ever done. Usually, it was a matter of taking what they wanted without a second thought, but not Sae. His consideration, his respect, made you pause. Maybe this was different. Maybe this could be different.

Your heart fluttered, a warm smile spreading across your face as you met his gaze. "Yes, Sae. I will."

Sae’s smile mirrored yours, soft and genuine, before he placed a tender kiss on your cheek—a silent thank you. There was an unspoken understanding between you now, a connection that was more than just physical. It felt like trust, like a promise he was making without words.

He stood, slipping off his blazer with a fluid motion, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. Then, without hesitation, he pulled off his shirt, revealing his toned, muscular chest. The sight made your breath catch. He was... built. Strong, defined—everything about him was a reflection of strength, of control.

Your eyes lingered on his body, taking in every detail. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you tried to focus, your heart racing in your chest.

Sae noticed your reaction, a playful chuckle escaping his lips. His eyes twinkled with amusement, yet there was something more behind his gaze, something deeper.

"Don’t worry," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, yet filled with a hint of confidence. "It’s all yours, Y/n. You’re going to have to get used to it."

Your cheeks burned with a deep blush at his words, but before you could process it fully, his lips were back on yours, pulling you into the kiss with a hunger that matched your own.

As the kiss deepened, your hands instinctively trailed up the firmness of his abs, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. The sensation of his skin under your fingertips made your pulse quicken. Sae groaned into your mouth, his tongue seeking entrance, and this time, you didn’t hesitate—your lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

It was a kiss that was both aggressive and tender. Sae’s neediness was noticeable, desperate even, but there was a gentleness in his touch, a carefulness that kept the intensity from crossing into something too overwhelming. He was savoring the moment, as if he was afraid of breaking something fragile.

His hand moved to the collar of your shirt, his fingers pausing, hesitating just for a brief second. He broke the kiss, his gaze locking with yours, silently asking for permission.

A soft laugh escaped your lips at the look in his eyes—this was different, this was him. There was no pressure, no rush. Just the quiet, mutual understanding between you two.

You nodded, giving him the confirmation he needed, and without another word, Sae yanked your shirt off in one swift motion, tossing it carelessly to the side.

Now, with both of you half-dressed, skin brushing against skin, the weight of the moment settled around you. Sae’s chest pressed against yours, his heartbeat as erratic as yours. The closeness was dizzying, but it felt right.

You shifted, slowly leaning up as you looked into his eyes, silently acknowledging what was next and what he wanted. Sae's gaze flickered down to you, a silent question in his eyes, asking if you were ready.

You nodded. Sae's hands trembled slightly as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra, the lacy garment falling away to reveal your perfect, plump breasts. His gaze raked over your exposed skin, drinking in every inch of you as he felt a familiar heat building low in his belly.

"Fuck, Y/N..." Sae breathed, his voice rough with desire. "You're so perfect."

He leaned down, his chest pressing against yours as he claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss. It was hungry and desperate, as if you were the only thing keeping him chained to this earth.

One large hand came up to cup your breast, thumbing over your nipple almost earnestly. Although being gentle, there was nothing gentle about the way he wanted to touched you - he wanted to possess you, to mark you as his and his alone.

A low groan escaped your lips at his touch, and Sae's cock twitched eagerly in response. The sound of your pleasure was like music to his ears, spurring him on.

Sae's hands continued their sensual massage of your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they pebbled beneath his touch. Each stroke of his fingers sent sparks of pleasure racing through your veins, stoking the fire building between your thighs.

Breaking away from your lips, Sae latched onto the smooth column of your throat, his mouth hot and demanding against your skin. He sucked and nipped, leaving a trail of marks in his wake as he made his way lower.

When he reached your breast, Sae took your nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. He suckled greedily, the wet sound obscenely loud in the quiet room. Your back arched off the couch, a needy moan spilling from your lips.

He pulled off with a lewd pop, smirking up at you with pure, unadulterated lust. But there was something else in his eyes too - a tenderness, an adoration that made your heart skip a beat.

This time, you met his gaze head-on, not looking away. Because despite everything, despite the scars on your soul, you knew you were safe with him. Cherished.

Sae's smile widened as he took in the sight of you - flushed and panting, your body laid bare before him. He had done this, reduced you to a needy, senseless mess with just his hands and mouth.

"Look at you," he purred, fingers dancing along the hem of your pants. "So beautiful like this.”

He glanced up at you, seeking permission even in the heat of the moment. That was Sae - always making sure you were okay, that you wanted this as much as he did.

"Please," you breathed, lifting your hips in silent offering.

Something dark and possessive flashed in Sae's eyes as he slowly unbuttoned your pants, dragging the zipper down with agonizing leisure. He peeled the fabric away, leaving you clad in nothing but panties.

A noticeable dampness revealed your growing arousal, drawing Sae's attention. His breath hitched, his jaw tightening. An irresistible urge surged within him—he needed you.

Sae tossed your panties aside carelessly, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable beneath his intense gaze. Every inch of your bare skin was on display for him, a feast for his hungry eyes.

Bending lower, he nuzzled into your inner thighs, kissing and licking a path towards your core. You trembled beneath him, hands fisting in the fabric as he inched closer to where you needed him most.

Your body jerked at the contact, instinctively trying to close your legs. But Sae's strong hands on your hips held you open, keeping you spread wide for his ministrations.

"Open for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice a heady mix of sternness and care.

Obediently, you let your thighs fall open, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate places. Sae grunted approvingly as he took in the glistening pink of your aroused sex.

Gripping your knees, he pushed your legs back and apart, forcing you into a position of total surrender. The new angle had your entrance on full display.

"So gorgeous, Y/n,” he murmured appreciatively. "And all mine."

Slowly, teasingly, he slid a single finger into your dripping core. Your back arched off the couch as pleasure sparked through you, a needy moan spilling from your lips.

Sae crashed his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as he fingered you with increasing intensity. Your velvety walls gripped him like a depravity, fluttering and clenching around his plunging fingers.

"You're so tight," he grunted against your lips. “I love it. You’re so good to me Y/n.”

He curled them just right, rubbing mercilessly against that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. Your hips bucked wildly, seeking more of that friction, chasing the pleasure only he could give you.

Sae obliged, plunging his fingers faster, harder, driving into your soaked heat with relentless precision. Lewd squelching noises filled the air as he fucked you with his hand, the vulgar sounds spurring him on.

"That's it, Y/n," he groaned roughly. " ‘m gonna make you feel good.”

He could feel you tightening, your inner muscles starting to flutter and ripple around him. Your moans grew higher, needier, and Sae knew you were close.

Sae's fingers stilled as he felt your walls start to quaver, signaling your impending orgasm. He slowly withdrew his hand, denying you that release.

Your eyes fluttered open, hazy with need and confusion. "Sae? Why did you stop?" you murmured breathlessly.

He smirked down at you, his voice low and commanding. "Not yet, Y/N. I want to feel you come undone on my cock."

With quick movements, Sae unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down, kicking them off impatiently. He stood before you, clad only in a pair of straining boxer briefs. The sizeable bulge at the front left no doubt as to his arousal.

You sat up slowly, eyes widening as you drank in the sight of his powerful body. Sae's smirk widened at your reaction. He grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him as he guided your hands to the waistband of his underwear.

"Pull them down for me, Y/N," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Trembling with anticipation, you hooked your fingers under the elastic and slowly dragged the fabric down.

Your eyes widened as Sae's impressive length sprang free, bobbing mere inches from your face. It was thick and heavy, the bulbous head already glistening with precum. A thrill of excitement mixed with nervousness raced down your spine. Could you really take all of that?

As if sensing your hesitation, Sae cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Don't worry, Y/n. You can handle it," he reassured, his voice a low rumble. "I'll start slow, ease you into it.”

He pushed you back onto the couch, his larger body covering yours. You felt trapped beneath him, pinned in place by his solid weight. Sae reached between your bodies, grasping his throbbing cock and giving it a few slow strokes.

Then, with agonizing leisure, he placed the tip against your entrance. You held your breath, every muscle tensing in anticipation. This was really happening.

"Tell me when, Y/N," Sae murmured against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Remember, I'm yours. You're in control here."

He sealed his lips over yours in a long kiss, his tongue delving deep inside. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fisting in his hair as you lost yourself to the sensation.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting harshly. Sae's eyes bore into yours, dark with desire but also filled with a tender understanding. He would follow your lead, let you set the pace.

All you had to do was say the word.

“Make me feel good, Sae," you breathed against his lips, pulling him in for a quick, heated kiss.

"Of course. Anything for you," he murmured back, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Sae's tip nudged against your entrance, teasing you. You squirmed beneath him, aching to be filled. His large hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he slowly pressed forward.

"If you need me to pause at any point, just say the word," Sae reassured, his voice low and soothing. "You can tell me anything, and I'll do it. This is all about you, Y/N."

You nodded, trusting him. Then, with a slow, deliberate push, Sae sheathed himself inside you. A low groan rumbled from his chest as your velvety walls stretched to adjust his girth.

He gave you a moment to adjust, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck as he waited patiently. When he started to move, it was with shallow, careful thrusts. Each roll of his hips sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your core.

Sae's breath came in ragged pants as he pounded into you, his brow glistening with sweat. Each thrust drew a groan from his lips, especially when your walls clenched around his throbbing shaft.

"Fuck, Y/N... so tight," he grunted, his pace growing more erratic. "Feels…amazing”.

You could only moan in response, your head thrashing on the fabric of the couch as he hit that perfect spot inside you over and over. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room.

"S-Sae," you gasped out, wrapping your legs around his waist.

His name coming from your lips made him eager, slamming into you with ease. The new angle had him nailing your G-spot with overwhelming precision, sending bolts of electric pleasure zinging through your nerve endings.

Sae's breath came in harsh, ragged pants as he pounded into you, chasing his rapidly approaching climax. The way your walls clenched around his throbbing shaft, the sting of your nails scratching his back, the breathy cries of his name falling from your lips - it was all driving him wild with lust.

"S-Sae..." you stammered out, your voice high and needy. "I'm so close..."

He could see it in the glazed look of your eyes, feel it in the way your body was starting to tremble and tighten around him. Sae knew he wouldn't last much longer either.

"Me too, Y/n," he grunted, his movements growing sloppy and erratic.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the edge, grinding against your G-spot. At the same time, he reached between your bodies to circle your swollen clit with his fingers.

Sae let out a low, satisfied groan as he felt your warm essence dripping down his softening cock. With a final, shallow thrust, he pulled out completely, shooting his load onto your lower abdomen.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face between your breasts. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he caught his breath. You both lay there in the afterglow, the only sound the soft panting and huffing filling the room.

No words were spoken for a long moment, the silence comfortable and intimate. You gently ran your fingers through Sae's hair, massaging his scalp soothingly. He let out a contented hum, burrowing further into your embrace.

“Sae..." you murmured softly, breaking the quiet.

"Hm?" he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by your skin.

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "Everything you said... did you mean it? About me being yours, and you wanting to take care of me and make me feel good?"

The words tumbled out in a rush, tinged with uncertainty. In the heat of passion, it had all seemed so real, so intense. But now, in the calm aftermath, doubt began to creep in.

Was it just dirty talk, empty promises made in the act of lust? Or had Sae truly meant every word, genuine in his desire to cherish and care for you?

You needed to hear him say it again, unclouded by the haze of sex. You had to know if this was something real, something that could grow into more than just a physical connection.

You held your breath, waiting for his response, your heart fluttering with a mixture of hope and fear.

Sae lifted his head from the plush of your breasts, his teal eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "I meant every word, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, hope blooming in your chest. Sae's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheekbone.

"I like you, Y/N. More than you know. Maybe even love,” he confessed, his gaze never wavering. "These past two months, spending every day with you at the bakery... I've fallen for you. Hard."

He let out a soft chuckle. "To be honest, you're the only reason I keep going there. Just to see you, to be near you, even if it's only for a few minutes."

Your heart swelled at his words, a warm sensation flowing through your entire being. This was everything you'd secretly hoped for, dreamed of, but never dared to believe could be real.

Until now.

Leaning into his touch, you let yourself get lost in the depths of Sae's eyes, seeing the sincerity and affection shining there. In that moment, you knew with absolute certainty what you wanted, what your heart craved.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

The walls you'd built around yourself, the barriers you'd made to keep people out and protect your fragile heart... they crumbled to dust, swept away by the force of your feelings for this incredible man.

Now, it was time to let him in, to entrust him with your heart and let yourself be loved in return. No more holding back, no more running from what you truly desired.

"Sae..." you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I... I think I'm falling for you too. I want this, I want you. I'm ready to let you in.”

You gazed up at Sae, your heart swelling with a love so profound it threatened to burst from your chest. In his warm teal eyes, you saw a reflection of everything you'd ever wanted, everything you'd been searching for all these years.

Comfort. Affection. Devotion. Love.

With Sae, you felt safe, cherished, whole. Like all the broken, jagged pieces of your soul had finally clicked into place, forming a beautiful painting of love and trust.

"Let me be in your life, Y/N," Sae murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "Let me love you, the way you deserve to be loved."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. How had you gotten so lucky, to find someone who saw past your walls, your wounds, straight to the tender heart underneath?

"And I shall let you love me, as I will love you, Sae," you whispered, a radiant smile blooming on your face.

This was everything you'd ever wanted, everything you'd never dared to dream possible. A love that healed, that uplifted, that made you feel invincible.

With Sae by your side, you finally felt complete. Like you'd found your home, your haven, your happily ever after.

"I'm yours," you breathed, reaching up to cup his cheek. "Now and forever."

Sae surged forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that poured every ounce of his love, his commitment, into the press of his mouth on yours. You melted into him, losing yourself in the exquisite taste of his devotion.

In that perfect moment, the rest of the world fell away. There was only you, only him, only the infinite love binding your hearts and souls together.

Forever and always.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long I didnt expect it to take a while😭

Btw sorry if the ending is rushed and crappy I just wanted to end it since it was getting too long. Plus…he was a bit too ooc for me🙁

I was originally going to make two parts but somehow I didn't so it took longer to post!!! I'm so sorry!!!

I should've made this a wattpad instead…yo wait hold up⁉️ I should make a wattpad‼️

Regardless…SAE IS SO FINE WHAT. He looks so scrumptious in these new bllk episodes😫 (Rin’s better tho. THE BETTER BROTHER!)

Yum😋

[genericpuff]

Do you have any big plans for Rekindled this year? Like specific moments/events/developments? Also, would you ever consider going back to a weekly upload schedule?

welllll as for stuff that's like, in the immediate near future, we're gonna be tackling a VERY famous scene in LO that I have some fun ideas for that will hopefully make it feel familiar but with its own twists for y'all to enjoy. Considering the current roadmap the story is on and what's been established over the past few "days" within the story, I'm sure y'all will figure out pretty quick which scene I'm talking about ;333

But in the long-term over the course of this year... I don't wanna speak too soon, but I think this is the year that we're finally gonna enter the biggest turning point of the story, so big that it literally diverts LR's plot away from the blueprint of LO and we end up in truly new territory. Granted, there are still some elements of the original LO present after that point, but what we do with those elements is entirely different. I think it's gonna parallel well, because while LO's S2 era took a massive turn away from everything it had been building up towards throughout S1, LR's "second season" will be taking a massive turn towards those setups and outcomes that were clearly abandoned (or just not thought of entirely, even the stuff that was like... plainly obvious to anyone who was paying attention lmao).

I'm hoping that after we've reached that point, the path that LR walks will feel way more satisfying for the readers like myself who felt that everything beyond S2 of LO was a complete misfire and lost potential. Again, it will hopefully feel familiar to those who remember that era of LO - but still refreshing and interesting to really drive home how this is meant to be an interpretative rewrite of what could have happened if LO hadn't gotten distracted and had actually stuck with its original plotlines and themes. I think the biggest one of those themes that was present in LO but never fully realized will be everything concerning "Persephone" herself, the Act of Wrath, and everything that led up to her moving to Olympus.

It is a little nerve-wracking, because it'll be at that turning point where I truly have to carry this story's progression for real and can't use LO quite as much to guide me through the dark, but I'm also excited because it's where I finally get to loosen a lot of the limitations that were set from the foundation of LO and really go wild with everything that I had been hoping LO would be. It's when I'll really get to write some proper payoffs to the things that I've been building up to from the foundation of the original comic as my starting point. It's where things are really gonna start to feel truly "new", at least in my opinion!

As for what that massive "turning point" is... I'm not gonna say specifically what happens, but you will absolutely know it when you'll see it. Obviously there are already a lot of differences between LR and LO in terms of the plot threads and how everything is being progressed, but this one turning point in particular is a huge one that fundamentally opposes one of the biggest flaws of LO that would define its downhill decline in its storytelling for the rest of its publication.

But for now, until we get there, I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;3

---

As for the update schedule, I would honestly love to be able to return to the weekly schedule again, but currently my work-life balance is just not gonna allow for it :'0 For those unaware, when I'm not making Rekindled, I'm also working my day job as a contracted tattoo artist which comes with its own load of responsibilities and obligations, many of which are what I need to fulfill in order to do things like pay my rent and, y'know, not die LOL In terms of the work-life balance, even when I'm not working on Rekindled, there's still a lot of work taking up my life LMAO (including a second retail job that I've been doing a seasonal position for, though it's wrapping up at the end of the month~)

While I love making Rekindled and spend as much time as I can each week working on it (and I wish it could be like, the only thing I had to worry about LOL) it is still just a fanfiction project that I create for free, and so it just can't be at the top of my priority list, at least not without sacrifices from those other obligations - but those other obligations are, again, what I need to do in order to not only survive, but to ensure that I can afford to keep making Rekindled, even if it's at a slower pace than I would like.

That said, Rekindled is still a very high priority for me! It's just a matter of balance, and changing to a bi-weekly schedule was part of maintaining that balance. It was either that, or stick to weekly and make the episodes shorter, but I ultimately settled on the former option because it allowed for a healthier work-life balance (which is still not even super healthy but I'm working on it lmao) and because the rhythm of my writing wouldn't have worked as well in shorter doses, especially not with many of the plotlines we've been tackling as of late. It can be a drag to wait every two weeks, but it means I can bring y'all episodes that are fully realized to their full potential, rather than hacking them up into tinier portions that might not read as well and would require a drawing schedule that wouldn't fit well with my current circumstances.

All in all, while I do wish I could be back to making episodes on that weekly schedule, it's really only because I would love to bring you all more of the story more often, because there's a lot that I'm really excited to show you all! But the bi-weekly schedule is currently more viable for both myself, Banshriek, and the comic as a whole, because it means we get the time we really need to make every episode feel special with every update <3

[lunarsands]

Multi-SMP Fanfic: Which Fate’s Fairest To Us All – Ch 6

Characters: Mythical Sausage (1st), Rusty the Copper Golem, PearlescentMoon, Scott Smajor (1st), Mythical Sausage (2nd), Hermes, Mythical Sausage (3rd), Scott Smajor (2nd), Rocky the Goblin, and a couple of briefly mentioned cameos at the end!

WARNINGS: Character death (but they get better because Afterlife/New Life rules are in play), body horror

Chapter Summary: The group escapes the labyrinth at last only to run straight into a new battle against Sparrow and the sculk. Afterward, fate continues to have other plans for Myth and Smajor as they find their way to Sanctuary…

Sequel to Mirror Tenfold, Beyond the Wall and follows sometime after the events of Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All.

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] [ Chapter Four ] [ Chapter Five ]

---

Chapter Six

That tide felt like it would sweep Myth himself away.

“It all started when he – well, when I did what guardian angels do, try to defend against evil, and vampires are the epitome of evil, right? My holy water didn’t seem to do much, so I ran away and he chased me down, and I ended up unconscious, and I woke up as his prisoner for him to feed off of whenever he wanted. He had taken my wings to display as a trophy and cut me off from the sky and sunlight. Eventually he weakened me enough that I ‘died’ – in a way – but I returned to life still in that dungeon but as a wither. Maybe there was something to that resurrection magic for choosing that particular creature for me to become, maybe some sort of influence after all, because I now saw the world from his point of view, and teamed up with him to spread despair in the world.

“But we were never fully on friendly terms. I snapped one day and withered my own wings, no longer allowing him that victory but staying at his side to continue down the path of evil. And then one day he came back dying from poison. And then he revived as an angel. And that was when my mind truly snapped, convinced he had stolen my holiness from me so he could turn himself into something more powerful. We both fell into insanity from the overwhelming need to get revenge on each other, and that’s how we ended up going through dozens of lives, all with different powers and different ways to murder each other, ignoring the rest of the world as we sought to kill the other a final time and win.”

Myth drew a deep breath. “I found a little sanity at some point, probably after I suffered five deaths in a row. Then I became a blazeborn, and Smajor became a gravital, and we had a stalemate going, and I led him into the Deep Dark hoping that a Warden would help take him down a few times. But we ended up going through the portal, and found ourselves in that labyrinth. And then we ran into our doubles, and when they got their previous powers back and I saw how my double looked at his Scott with adoration when he regrew angel wings… I snapped again. And instead of three of us working together to subdue Smajor, we all fought each other. It was that Scott who defeated me – subdued <i>me,</i> saying he had no intention of killing me despite knowing the exact weakness that would destroy me, and I came back to my senses.

“The other me dealt with Smajor and even tried to ‘fix’ him – using his wither powers, he temporarily removed Smajor’s soul and used some combination of his abilities to stabilize it, removing Smajor’s insanity and knocking him out, too. Then they flew off to try to find an exit. Which they did, returning to lead me out and that’s how I knew how to get here this time.”

Now he sighed wearily. “But just because Smajor was no longer insane it didn’t take away his need for revenge. So, that’s why he caused the death that made me a seraph. I was foolish to think that it was a reward for working together with the Mythical Sausage who was the complete opposite of me. I thought it was a sign to avenge everything Smajor had put me through for as many times as I saw fit. But I went too far, causing myself to become fallen. The celestial realm rejected me and punished me, turning my wings blood red to serve as a warning for others to stay away, that I wasn’t any kind of savior. But I didn’t care. I kept taking vengeance on Smajor. I took every life he had, in every form. No powers he gained could stop me. And eventually I became something more condemned than a fallen angel – I became a cursed one.”

Myth’s gaze went to Sausage. “That was the me you met. By then I had found the limit of the transformation magic in our world, and Smajor had no powers at all. But he didn’t die a final time, so I kept him imprisoned, because I could never believe he would change his ways. If he was allowed to go free, I just knew he would find a way to be a menace again, and he had plenty of time to figure out how since we’ve both been doomed to miserable immortality.”

Everyone’s attention was glued to this honest disclosure of Myth’s past. Scott and Ghast-sage had expressions of uneasy concern, while Sausage and Hermes had different amounts of sympathy clear on their faces. Rusty was silent, although his antenna did bob a few times.

“One time, the doubles we had met here appeared in our world – this was before Sanctuary, but the other seraph was in his final form and his Scott was some sort of purple sparkly creature that could call down meteor strikes – as you can guess, I fought with them again… but I really just wanted them to leave me alone. I had given up on redemption. Fate had already told me that I was cursed to be Smajor’s warden.”

Myth grimaced at the irony of the term, given what they had just been through. “Then, one day – after the Sanctuary incident – some kind of magical force teleported us to another world. It was the Superhero’s world.” Here, he cast another glance at Sausage. “Smajor’s double found him before I did, and used vampire powers to turn Smajor – giving him supernatural abilities again. Honestly, I’m just glad Smajor didn’t gain ten powers at once like those guys. The Superhero, his teammate, and I stopped them both, but I went too far again and… was ready to kill that Scott because I assumed too much about his preference for his vampire powers. The Superhero stopped me, things calmed down, a portal appeared that had what we thought were obvious signs it would take us home, and we left on unwelcome terms.”

He hadn’t wanted to admit the one part, worried that the Scott in front of him now would no longer trust him – a justified thought, as Scott took a hasty step back. Myth continued to keep his arms at his sides even though the lack of gesticulating as he spoke made him feel weird. “Something happened during the teleport once we went through. I lost sight of Smajor, and then suddenly I was turned into a phoenix. And then I stepped out of a Nether portal into your world.” He gave a nod to Scott and Ghast-sage.

“Everyone who came by assumed I was their ghast mage, so I pretended to ‘forget’ what had happened that made ‘me’ turn into a phoenix just so I could… well, wrap my head around it all. Rusty knew something was up, but he let me adjust to life there. It was… a nice break from the back-and-forth murder. I… had a chance to just live and learn new things, like all that technology you have. I, um, I tried to keep things in good condition for you.”

Myth briefly glanced at Ghast-sage, then lowered his gaze only to glance back again. “Then Smajor showed up. He had changed, too, into a fungal mage. He had accepted being mistaken for their Scott, too, but he somehow grew a conscience and wanted to find the versions of us that belonged there. I told him to go away because I didn’t trust his motives. Then he came back with news of where his investigations had led him: the Ancient City and its active portal. I knew what that meant. And he knew that I was the only one who would know how to get out of the labyrinth.”

Myth sighed regretfully. “I still didn’t want to trust him, and I didn’t know which option was better: both of us going in and unwillingly splitting up to find you, or only me and having no choice but to trust him to not destroy the portal behind me. And then I had no say in it, anyway, because sculk began to attack and he used his powers to fight it – and to fling me into the portal. And now that is what could be waiting for us on the other side.”

Myth brought his hands forward to look at them as he curled and uncurled his fingers a few times. “Guess I also now have what I need to stop the sculk and stop Smajor if he tries anything.” He nodded at Sausage and Hermes. “At least you can safely go through your portal. It will let you out where you entered. My plan is to go through with them, destroy the sculk if it’s still there, grab Smajor, and come back here. All of you must destroy your portals after that, and any others you find in your worlds to stop anyone else getting stuck in this limbo dimension – and stop any of that mutated sculk from escaping here.”

Hermes slowly panned his gaze over the entirety of the portal cluster. “What about the rest of these? And what if there are more spots like this in here with more portals?”

“I’m going to drag Smajor through each one and back to warn the people in those worlds. I’ve got infinite time to do it.”

“Mate, that’s going to take too long.” Hermes began ticking off a list on his fingers.  “You’ll lose him every time you come back in. He could escape through any of the other portals while you’re trying to find him. More people might wander in while you’re busy in just one world trying to convince them. You might meet people who want to stop you.” He shook his head emphatically. “I think you’ll want to leave this to someone who has more experience with navigating the multiverse.”

Myth scowled, all too aware of the logistics; a second later an amused smirk crossed his face. “Ah. So, if the Guardian of Realities’ job here wasn’t to guide us out, it was to learn about this problem and travel around to deal with it. Then I guess there’s no use for Smajor and I after all. Makes enough sense. But I still need to collect him before I go home, so let’s get moving.”

Feeling a little drained from all the talking – as well as feeling redundant yet again – Myth flew up to the portal that once led to his new life. He waited before entering, giving Scott a few seconds to teleport Ghast-sage and Rusty to the inner edge of the portal frame before saying to them, “Escape as soon as you can when we’re on the other side. I’ll still be the one to handle Smajor and the sculk. Protector!” he then called down, watching Hermes pick up his father to make it a little easier to reach their own portal. In an effort to offer the sincerest thing he could think of, Myth said, “Good luck. May the pearlescent moon’s guidance speed your travels.”

He didn’t hear Sausage gasp. The swooshing sound of the teleportation magic was already taking hold.

~*~

Myth was alert for Smajor’s position as soon as the Ancient City came into view through the swirling particles. When he caught movement to his left he spun toward it, spreading his wings to shield Scott and Ghast-sage behind him. He made a shooing motion with his right hand, signaling them to move away. He trusted them to take cover further back or even defend themselves from any encroaching sculk, because he was dead set on catching Smajor before anything else.

With his attention firmly turned away from the portal it was easy for additional figures to slip out of it and also run for cover.

As he leapt toward the suspicious movement in front of him, Myth prepared to utter the unsettling noise that he fully expected to get Smajor’s attention. However, Myth was the one who came up short at the sight awaiting him. At first it seemed Smajor was attacking Sparrow – except he was human again, or human-ish; at the very least, Myth was very certain that Sparrow had been a copper golem the last time he had seen him.

Next he noted the blotches of sculk all over Sparrow’s body, including both skin and clothes. Then there was the distinct fact that Sparrow was standing over Smajor, pressing closer and closer to the fungal mage’s throat with an unusual-looking strand of sculk vein.

Of important note was also that there was absolutely no mycelium near Smajor. His back was against a large unbroken carpet of sculk, and despite the flicker of spores around his hands revealed by the light of nearby soul lanterns, the strand wasn’t converting, either. Meanwhile, there was a visible bubbling effect occurring where Sparrow held it.

When tinier bits of sculk vein oozed out of these bubbles to land on Smajor’s chest and face Myth knew where to focus his attack. He pounced, reaching around from behind Sparrow to grab the strand, grasping it directly next to Sparrow’s hands. Myth registered the wire-like feel of it before activating his powers. Within less than a second the whole length of it was crumbling due to decay.

And as Myth had suspected, Sparrow yelped in pain when the decay touched his hands.

The sculk-possessed humanoid’s instincts were to jump away, but Myth closed his arms around him. He refrained from using any more decay – he needed answers, not a disappearing pile of dust while Sparrow’s consciousness revived elsewhere. He did, however, finally utter the bone-chilling breath of a wither, intending to strike some fear into Sparrow.

It was Smajor who emitted a terrified gasp and began a frenzied attempt to slide away backward. He failed to move an inch. Myth now saw that the fungal mage was not just lying on the sculk but was actually trapped by a sludgy form of it that was clinging to his robes.

Smajor really wasn’t the culprit here. It was Sparrow.

“Let me go!” the now-struggling Sparrow yelled. “Intruders must be eliminated!”

Myth scoffed at the irony. “Well, I guess that means I need to be eliminated, too. Don’t really care for that. How about you settle down instead? We need to talk.” Maintaining a tight grasp on Sparrow with one arm, Myth leaned to the side to grab a fistful of sculk out of the ground. He brought it around to hold it in front of Sparrow’s face. “You might be able to play fungus tug-of-war with him, but I can make it so no one has any ammunition.” He crushed the sculk in his hand. The ashen remains fluttered down before Sparrow’s eyes.

Sparrow thrashed wildly in response, forcing Myth to turn around in an effort to keep him restrained. “No! How could you do that to us?! This is our home! Our domain! You’re the ones who don’t belong here! You can’t stop us! We can keep spreading from anywhere and we’ll keep coming back no matter what you do!”

“You’re right about him and me not belonging. But I think we’re exactly what this world needed: two people who are very good at destruction.” Myth’s gaze flicked to a flurry of orange particles in the distance. In the next second he was shoving Sparrow into Scott’s arms; they disappeared immediately, and once he saw the transporter reappear on top of a sculk-free deepslate wall, Myth plunged his hands into the sculk at his very feet with a roar.

Decay shot across the entire surface in an expanding radius around him. Smajor dropped onto the layer of solid deepslate below as the muck trapping him crumbled away. He coughed from the stale remnants that floated in the air before those, too, dissipated. He stayed where he was, simply watching the wave of decay as it continued ever outward. However, he abruptly scrambled to his feet when he saw other faces peeking out from around a deepslate pillar – one that was partially held up by sculk. He ran toward it and flung his hands out, sending a line of mycelium across the floor and up the pillar, replacing the sculk just as the spreading decay was about to reach it.  Smajor then fell backward, chest heaving before he recovered enough to sit up again.

Sparrow’s distorted voice rang out. “No, no, no!! Where are the guardians of this city?! Rise, Wardens! I command you!” His voice lost all semblance of itself on the final three words.

The ground underneath Myth rumbled and churned. Before he could react, numerous large clawed hands thrust upward out of the resulting rubble and grabbed him, pulling him down through the displaced floor with bits of deepslate cutting at him on the way.

Scott teleported to the spot but even he was too slow to do anything – the deepslate reformed itself into solid ground right before his eyes. Sparrow laughed in triumph.

“Ohmygod!” Ghast-sage shouted from where he was hiding. “Th-They can just do that?!”

Scott squatted to touch the floor. Surely it would start crumbling away when Myth unleashed his powers in order to destroy the Wardens that had grabbed him, and surely he could make deepslate decay just like the sculk…

A sound like the reversed shattering of glass interrupted the horrified silence that had followed. From behind the pillar Smajor had prevented from falling came a small bolt of orange energy that ricocheted rapidly off of thin air. It struck the ground where Myth had disappeared. Scott drew back, startled, but then lowered his hand again. He could swear the surface under his palm was growing warm.

No, it definitely was.

He leapt away a breath before the deepslate turned molten and buckled upward in the shape of a volcanic cone. A blazing form burst from the center – Myth, his wings and upper body aflame in hues of glowing orange. A split-second glimpse of his eyes revealed twin blind embers as he continued soaring straight up. A deafening hawk-like screech rent the cavern. Myth crashed right into the ceiling a second later.

No one saw what happened to him in the aftermath. While they had been watching him, the volcano in the floor had doubled in size and its sides had begun to protrude. It exploded outward, covering the entire area in a blanket of burning lava.

~*~

The next thing Myth became aware of was a voice that sounded an awful lot like Hermes and might have been asking Myth if he could hear him. He lifted his head from the oddly warm ground. At the corners of his fuzzy vision, he could discern the fading light of lava disappearing into cracks before the rest of it began to cool. He was confused by the orange tufts at the top of his line of sight. Groggily maneuvering a hand out from under his prone body to touch them revealed that it was his own hair. He shifted a wing into view. His feathers were orange again.

This universe really was dead-set on wanting him to be a phoenix.

He sat up, keeping his hand to his head, while Hermes kept plying him for a response. Myth’s ears were ringing, so the words weren’t clear, plus he was still processing the fact the young man was there. “Wha… You were… Your own portal…” Myth mumbled. “How’d you… get here?”

Hermes’ voice continued to be muffled by the thankfully now-dulling ring, so Myth tried using his eyes to gain information. He saw the blurry figure of Sausage standing over someone, talking to them. The blur was resolving itself slowly, so Myth squinted at the sitting figure. The red shape that bobbed along with their head movements clarified into a mushroom cap. Myth tried to lunge onto his feet, a warning on his lips.

He fell flat on his face instead. He had been revived once again, yet he didn’t feel particularly refreshed in the energy department this time around.

“Easy, mate,” came a gentle reproach from Hermes as he lent Myth a hand in sitting up again. “You smacked into the ceiling pretty hard. We figured you could withstand the heat better than the others, so we recovered them first. I’ve got to say, the resurrection magic of this world is fascinating to witness.”

Myth looked to where Sausage stood. There were four bodies near him: three laying on the ground with Rusty pacing next to one of them and the last one sitting up as the chat with Sausage continued. Now Myth could tell there was a difference; although there was the white hair under the mushroom cap like Smajor, the clothes were Scott’s.

Myth’s body froze up as a realization began to dawn in his brain, but his gaze was able to slide to the other figures. The identical fungal mage was there, in the same robes as expected with his satchel beside him. Next was Sparrow, lacking the sculk that had marred him before. And then a face identical to his own right down to the orange beard and hair, if not minus the extensive scar, with orange-feathered wings splayed out underneath him, and wearing the Ghast Mage’s robes.

Understanding settled over him. He let a bitter smile cross his face then he slouched, letting an invisible weight off his shoulders. He turned his head as Hermes sat down beside him. “I need you to explain again why you’re here. I didn’t catch it the first time.”

“Sure. We were about to go through our portal but Dad said he sensed something from the Staff and insisted we follow you guys. You were already moving away when we came through, so we took cover to watch what might happen. Dad was trying to figure out what the Staff wanted, then that gemstone in it shattered and released some sort of magic beam out to where you got dragged underground. After that things got kind of dicey because a massive lava eruption happened after you flew out of like, a volcano-looking thing. Or maybe the volcano spat you out and the lava followed. N-Not to say you caused it,” Hermes quickly amended. “I’m not sure how conscious you even were at that point, and that was before you hit the ceiling.”

Myth put a hand to his head as if feeling for a bump, shifting his gaze to his boots. “I don’t remember anything between the Wardens pulling me in and a few minutes ago. But it’s obvious Smajor and I have to go soon. This world doesn’t need two phoenixes and fungal mages.” He started to push himself up, then felt a wave of dizziness, so he sat back down. “…After a little more rest.”

By now Smajor had awakened and was talking quietly to Scott. His movements were sluggish as he picked up his satchel of mushrooms and opened it. However, once he began pointing inside as the two chatted his energy seemed to pick up a bit. Myth kept what he felt was a reasonable amount of wariness, although perhaps he had given enough warnings about Smajor up till then that Hermes and Sausage could handle him.

The former Ghast Mage woke next. He snuck a few glances at Myth between observing the two fungal mages. Myth didn’t feel like chatting with him, anyway, so it was for the best that the other stayed where he was. He instead turned his mind toward composing a strategy for his next move.

As if privy to his train of thought, Hermes asked, “Are you still planning to go back in that labyrinth?”

“Of course. What else is there?”

“Well, I think you should come with my dad and I to Sanctuary. You could rest up a little more so you’ll be in better shape to chase down your unfortunately assigned ward over there when you get separated. It will be more comfortable than sitting around this cave. Plus, these guys will have their hands full going around destroying all the Ancient City portals here. In Sanctuary Dad and I can help keep an eye on Smajor.”

With the amicable-sounding conversation from the two fungal mages floating his way Myth admitted that this would, perhaps, be the better option.

~*~

After swapping clothes with their doubles, Myth, Smajor, and the rest of their new group stood watching from their hiding spot as the rightful phoenix and fungal mage of that universe walked away, Sparrow trudging wearily along between them and Rusty looking over the former Ghast-sage’s shoulder. Sparrow was still dazed from his experience, having been mumbling is distressed sorrow over having fought with his friends, and was apologizing profusely to Scott for trying to kill him.

They all thought it best to not involve Sparrow in the confusion of doubles from other realities; he had no memory of Myth destroying the sculk or of the Wardens dragging Myth underground. All Sparrow said he could recall was some kind of large explosion, comparing it to TNT.

After waiting ten minutes to make sure they were gone, Sausage held the Staff aloft – incidentally showing that it was back to its mossy and red-mushroom bedecked appearance – and a moment later Myth found himself blinking against bright sunlight streaming through tall stands of bamboo. A path with assorted flowers decorating random spots meandered away in front of them, splitting to the left to go up a slope to a small building while the rest of the path passed through a variety of trees, beyond which were the homes and businesses of Sanctuary itself. Myth cast a glance over his shoulder. Behind them was a giant tree stump with a giant white tulip growing atop it. Below the tulip and slightly to the right was a Nether portal.

He assumed this was a coincidence.

Sausage and Hermes walked past behind him, so Myth fully turned to watch and wait for a sign to follow. Now he saw a second, large-ish tree with a hollow in the middle near the roots. Squinting, Myth could see an armor stand inside. It was here that Sausage placed the Staff on one side of the armor stand while Hermes placed his trident on the other. A shimmer appeared over the front of the hollow as they exited.

Sausage smiled as he returned to the visitors, tired wrinkles appearing on his face. “Needs to recharge. Let’s go refresh at the tavern!”

As their host led the way, Myth none-too-subtly tossed glares at Smajor from the corner of his eyes. Smajor peered at him once with a neutral expression then lowered his head, keeping pace between Myth and Hermes the whole way.

The ambience of a breeze off the sea and call of animals hidden by trees and bamboo was a stark contrast to the stagnant isolation of both the labyrinth and the Deep Dark. When they reached the town proper Myth saw people of every race and species going about their day. Some of them called out greetings to Sausage and Hermes. There was a reverence in a few of the tones, as if they were addressing a king – or maybe it was Hermes’ status as a demi-god. Either way, the Protector and his son responded as friends rather than as rulers.

Upon reaching the tavern Sausage flung the door open and cheerfully called out, “¡Regresamos! ¿Cómo están todos? ¡María! ¡Justo a quién quería ver!” He crossed between tables to a person who, to Myth’s eyes, looked like an anthropomorphic rabbit wearing leatherworker gear. She had been helping an Allay change out tablecloths in the booths along the wall, but spoke an excited greeting then began chatting away with Sausage in his native language.

Hermes waved Myth and Smajor toward the bar. The latter hesitated. “Come on. Take a seat. My little brother can mix up some drinks to your liking. Best bartender in Sanctuary! ¡Hola, Rocky! We have newcomers!”

“¡Hola!” said a gravelly voice from behind the bar. From below behind the bar. Myth was about to sit on one of the barstools but curiosity seized him so he leaned over the bar to see what this brother of a demi-god might look like. He ended up making eye contact with a short, green-skinned person wearing similar brightly-colored clothes as the people around town. They uttered a strange sort of chirp in response. “¡Ay! ¡Papá! ¿Qué te pasó en la cara? ¡Y el pelo!”

Hermes laughed. “No, no, hermano– this is one of Dad’s dobles from another reality.”

“Oh. You could have warned me!” The small fellow chirped again. He added a sort of gargling sound afterward, then went about getting some clean mugs.

Apparently replying to these vocalizations, Hermes said, “Something to give everyone a little pick-me-up. No, I think you can leave out the redstone zest for now. We’ve had enough high blood pressure for one day.” He sat down as Myth settled onto the barstool, explaining, “Rocky is adopted from the goblin kingdom. He goes back and forth between languages in the same sentence, kind of an assimilation quirk of goblinfolk when they intermingle with other cultures they’re exposed to.”

Smajor had remained standing, hovering near the end of the bar. When Rocky stepped up onto a wooden ledge to place a mug in front of him, Smajor lightly shook his head. “No thank you, actually. I think I would rather just sleep. Using up my mana twenty times in a row is exhausting.” He continued to avoid looking at Myth – which was difficult, since he wanted to address Hermes.

Rocky uttered a “Prrrt” and stepped down. He then brought the mug over to Hermes and slid it next to where the young man rested his elbow, making an indiscernible comment. He then exited the bar, walking around to where Smajor was. “Follow me, Don Sombrero de Hongo. We offer the most comfortable rooms in all of Sanctuary to visitors.”

“I have no idea what you just called me,” Smajor said wearily. “But, whatever. Show me the way.” As they headed up the staircase Maria followed, one hand casually resting on the pommel of the dagger stuck through a loop on her apron.

Sausage came over to sit next to Hermes. He pulled over the mug Rocky had left, holding it between his hands. “Maria will keep an eye on him. Just in case.” He took a sip from the mug then let out a satisfied sigh. “Ah, it’s good to be home. I’ll start sending explanations about the Ancient City portals to the other empires in a little while. For now, these old bones need to rest!” He sighed again before taking a long, noisy sip of his drink.

Hermes casually cleared his throat. “Speaking of Ancient Cities, I have a proposal for you.” He swiveled his barstool toward Myth. “I have more training to do as Apprentice-Guardian-of-Realities, and obviously that means I have to go visit a bunch more worlds. You want to go around the multiverse in a round-about fashion. So, why don’t you travel with me? Using the Staff to get around will be much more efficient than having to go through that labyrinth over and over again. Sounds kind of lonely to me, really. Might as well have someone along who can vouch for what’s going on in that place. And I can help you avoid any realities that you’ve already been to – by the way, do the mobs in the Superhero’s world have ten powers, too?”

Myth stared back blankly for a moment, confused by Hermes’ blithe tone. The young man clearly hadn’t gotten enough of a taste of how dangerous it was to be around him. “I wouldn’t be alone, technically,” Myth blurted. “I’m taking Smajor. And there is no way I would risk bringing him along with that Staff there to tempt him—”

Sausage, hands resting around his mug again, calmly interrupted, “Well, there isn’t a Scott in this world anymore, so it wouldn’t cause a cosmic paradox if yours stayed here. Under my supervision, of course. Everyone is welcome to take shelter in Sanctuary, after all.” A small smile graced his visage, his age-lined eyes holding gentleness and patience as he looked at Myth.

Old buried resentment threatened to surface until Myth realized that this was a look of understanding and acceptance, not the pleading insistence of a shining seraph who wanted a cursed angel to give up his pain before he was ready. Still, his voice came out in a grumble. “You can’t be implying that I should stay here, too. You and I still make a paradox.”

“I’m the Guardian of Realities! Come on, now! I can cheat a little bit to make an exception for myself! And for whichever of myselves happen to find their way to my doorstep! But, ehhh, it is probably a good idea to leave with Hermes regularly. Just so no overarching multiversal powers-that-be don’t catch on, if you know what I’m sayin’. It’ll be fine! Don’t you worry for a minute! The multiverse has a job for you, after all!”

~*~   EPILOGUE   ~*~

Three months later…

Sausage walked out of the former L.O.R.E. headquarters after bidding everyone farewell, his sunflower-styled walking stick in hand. The items from the rift incident had been carefully packed away to be replaced by an ever-growing pile of charts and arrangements of different colored string across a bulletin board. The latter was to illustrate which realities shared similarities, noted mainly out of the interest in which ones were parallels of each other. The charts recorded spatial coordinates for each reality and the types of worlds that existed within them.

The initial team of two had grown during their travels throughout the multiverse. The debriefing room currently accommodated the likes of Blood Pearl of Mythland, an accomplished reality-hopper herself, who had been seeking a way to save her dear friend the Farmer King of Helianthia from fated doom; a Time Witch named Cleo who was on a quest to fix her own fractured timeline; and Interstellar Paladin Sparklez, who had been attempting to teach the ways of balance to the multiverse after his goddess, Lady Ianite, sacrificed herself to save his world.

Sausage had listened in enough times to acknowledge that Myth had gotten the hang of things, so he felt he could take his leave. He stopped off at the tavern and the bakery, procuring a picnic basket on the way to fill with some supplies, then headed off into a denser part of the bamboo forest outside of Sanctuary. He stopped briefly near a weather-worn stone memorial to check on a patch of unique flowers with an equally weather-worn wooden sign in front of the small border that surrounded them. The two species of flowers, which only grew in that one location in all the world, were thriving as they always had, so he continued on his trek.

A few minutes later the tall bamboo began to be overshadowed by the caps of giant mushrooms. Shorter clusters of them hugged the sides of the path along the way, some of mixed red and brown, some just one or the other at different heights, and even some warped and crimson fungus were there standing out amongst the mundane colors.

Then he reached the main mushroom grove, where the path itself turned to pure mycelium while around it was grass of a rich, deep emerald color. With even more of the giant mushrooms providing shade overhead, the air felt cooler as well as holding a comfortable dew point, making it seem like a completely different biome had been plunked down in the middle of the bamboo jungle.

Sausage leaned on his walking stick as he admired one of the giant mushrooms that had three joined stems, noting how it had the shape of a brown mushroom but with the bright orange specks found on a warped fungus.

A polite yawn behind him made him turn; Smajor stood there holding the last basket that Sausage had brought out, tiny mushrooms piled up to the point they were going to spill out if he tilted it. “Hello, Protector,” he greeted in a neutral tone. He had adopted the title to use for referring to him, never once calling Sausage by name. “What brings you out here?”

“I just thought I’d stop by and check on things.” Sausage held up the new basket, not needing to include this also meant offering his guest some food and drinks.

Smajor gently set down the one he had been carrying then waved a hand, causing two red mushrooms big enough to sit on to spring up behind himself and Sausage.

“Ah. Thank you.” Sausage leaned over to set his basket down on the ground too, then leaned on his walking stick again as he carefully lowered himself onto the provided seat. “It’s looking very nice out here. It feels serene. I’m particularly impressed with that one, there.” He gestured to the three-stemmed mushroom. “It reminds me of a kingdom I once saw. They also had magically-grown mushrooms in different colors, although that was attributed to special crystals that had been planted alongside regular mushrooms.”

“I thought I would experiment a little with the types I can conjure. As for that particular one…” Smajor paused, his eyes seeming to go distant for a second, then he continued, “They remind me of… home. From a long, long time ago. This place is very bright in comparison, so it’s not going to be a perfect imitation. But when the sun sets and the light is just right… It feels like my own little private piece of a twilight forest.”

There was a wistfulness in his voice that reached Sausage’s heart. “I’m glad you’ve been able to make a place for yourself during your time here. You’re always welcome in town, too, whenever you like.”

A frown pulled at the corners of Smajor’s lips, but he didn’t take out any of his bitterness on the well-meaning old man. “No, I’d rather stay here. Talking to nature suits me better than talking to people, and I definitely don’t want to run into Myth by accident. And I don’t want him to come here.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s too busy to pay a visit.”

"Either way, he will never stop looking at me like he thinks I'm going to murder you all if the wind starts blowing from another direction." Smajor sighed in feigned-resignation. "I mean, I still want to see him dead, but since that is extremely unlikely to ever happen, I'll stick with never seeing his particular face again. Out here is my peace, and if you want more reasons to stop feeling obligated to invite me to town, then think of it as me staying out here makes it safer for everyone. I want to keep it that way.”

THE END

[post-A/N: That wraps things up for Myth and Smajor, along with the Past Unmasked timeline! Well, unless I get struck by more inspiration out of the blue. Obviously this went far beyond a couple of darkfics written for the heck of it and an AU based on a friend's artwork, so who knows! But I do want to focus on other Empires S1 stuff and potentially one more fic for Soul Liminality 2, so please stay tuned! I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read these bizarre AUs of mine, with a special shout out to those who left comments! The encouragement is greatly appreciated! Thank you so much for staying with me through the development of these characters and their wanderings away from canon. I hope you'll enjoy the fics I write in the future!]

~*~*~

Translations:

¡Regresamos! ¿Cómo están todos? ¡María! ¡Justo a quién quería ver!  -We have returned! How is everyone? Maria! Just who I wanted to see!

Hola! – Hello!

¡Ay! ¡Papá! ¿Qué te pasó en la cara? ¡Y el pelo!  - Yikes! Papa! What happened to your face? And hair!

Hermano -  brother

Dobles - doubles

Don Sombrero de Hongo - Mister Mushroom Hat

[ednito]

My crane and his relationship with animals.

Lately I've been thinking about scarecrow as a whole and how certain cranes have an animal companion of some sort, whether its a crow or a horse some cranes always have some sort of help from an animal counterpart. Some instances like in nolanverse, it's just used as a tool, I might argue for the asthetic while others like in codotverse scarecrow has a strong attachment to their pet crow. Though others I believe dislike crows all together like year one, it's not stated, of course, but to me I greatly believe he both is frightened by crows and hates them with his whole being. This has made me consider MY scarecrow, how he feels about crows or other birds, his feelings on animals all together, really.

Originally, when I was first forming his character, I had the mindset that he didn't really care for anything, that he doesn't hate or love music, food, clothing, animals, etc. So of course he wouldn't like crows or horses or anything of the sorts, I had imagined that he was pestered by them growing up and that animals might have been the few things he actually actively hated, birds specifically. But now, developing him more I've changed some aspects of his character and his feelings on animals. I do still believe, for the most part, he doesn't really have much care for most things- but I don't think he can't care like his previous self. I think for him, it takes either something traumatic for him to care or it takes a lot of time and commitment for him to form feelings. I do believe he uses some animals as tools when being scarecrow, having a murder of crows follow particular people around that could be targets or could have something of interest for him, he might have them help trick others, make them laugh at his victims. A mutual companionship, I think, but certainly not friends. Wild crows, he's fed and trained since babies. Really, I imagine he stumbled upon them on accident and took them out of an odd compulsion. I think they might have reminded him of old friends he had in his younger days.

When he was much younger, when he didn't have the anger he has now and still living with his grandmother he often times was outside in the fields either working or just being there reading the few books his grandmother allowed him to read. It's there when taking a nap in the grass he found a nest of field mice, a small family in fact. At first, he knew if he kept them alive, they could run a risk of ruining the crops, and great grandmother would surely be furious but he couldn't bring himself to hurt them, not even touched them. Over time he'd bring them some food from his lunch and eventually the mice would trust him a little more over time, Jonathan felt he had found a small family to contribute to, one that wouldn't hit him or call him names, but be there for him. Though all things come to an end and one day, he was forced to watch the field mice get crushed by large rocks, killed by the boys at his school. That day, it was the foundation of the road that led him to his path of anger.

I think my crane would say that he'd feel indifferent about animals, not having a strong opinion. But deep down, he'd have feelings he wouldn't be able to describe, sympathy perhaps, envy? Who knows. Never in his life have he inflicted his rage onto them. He's never had to. For him, he knows animals don't have the self awareness to understand right from wrong, that for them, life is black and white. They act on instinct and don't have it in them to truly be evil, unlike people. They don't have the ultimatum that people do, to dance or not. They don't understand what they can be bad or good, and taking advantage of that? Hurting them and such? He would never admit it, but it angers him greatly.

Of course, this starts getting into his beliefs on life and his feelings with people, and that is a post for another day. :]

[callmeannwithoutane]

Manifest at it's finest!

8/8/24

Four years ago, I was heartbroken when I didn’t pass the PUPCET. It was a tough moment, and I felt like my dreams were slipping away. However, I made a decision: if I couldn’t go to PUP, I would enroll at EARIST and set a new goal for myself. I promised that I would work hard, stay focused, and, most importantly, manifest the achievement of graduating with a Latin honor. Specifically, I envisioned myself earning the title "Cum Laude."As I began my journey at EARIST, It wasn't easy to enter in new world in a time of pandemic I was lack of resources and gaining friends. On one particular subject I was scared of it because I knew on myself I was lack of it. I still thoughts I can handle it but because of the time management I was stressed and was not satisfied with my grades. I thought that was my last chance. So, I didn't put efforts on my next following year. Fast forward, when I enrolled on my fourth year when a professor saw my evaluation grade form and said that I have a chance to be in a Latin honor. I was shocked and hopeful as I start my fourth year semester. Finishing this semester wasn't easy and I could say to myself that I am proud of what I have achieve right now. and I am graduating with the honor of "Cum Laude." Reflecting on the past four years, my younger self would be very proud! I am deeply grateful for how God has guided me throughout this journey. Even though my path wasn’t what I originally envisioned, it led me to a place where I could grow, learn, and achieve something I am truly proud of. If earning this honor fulfills the dreams and aspirations of my younger self, then I feel a deep sense of contentment.This accomplishment is a testament to the power of perseverance, faith, and the belief that even when our plans don’t go as expected, we can still achieve greatness. Now, I am finally just grad-waiting on September 8, 2024. Looking forward to manifest a new goal in my career!.

[talldarkandroguesome]

9th of Midyear, Sundas

I sampled my newest lecture at the Nest on Turdas and I believe that it was well received. I focused on the aspect that I know to be the main difference between our Nest and others I have come across. The strength of religious conviction.

Now, I have been talking it through with Zethith and I can see where there can be an advantage to having some aspect of a Nest a glorified sex club.

If someone manages a long-term infiltration of your group, they only truly see the orgies and other mild debaucheries that titillate nobles and other wealthy persons with more time than sense. If you are raided, there is little to be found but some suggestion of people trying to be edgy, you get a slap on the wrist, a fine or a night in a cell, and then you are let go with a verbal warning.

You are less likely to be taken seriously as a threat of any kind by Ordinators when all you are known for is allowing a bunch of people to get together and indulge their carnal desires. It is hardly against the law unless someone can manage to twist the law to some way and have you pay the fine for prostitution without being registered with the guild or as an independent worker.

Since I have such a rigorous screening capability, unless Tanur were to make some large blunder, or a current spiderling decided to turn on us, we do not have to worry quite so much.

Speaking of Tanur, his little gatherings are going fine. I hear that non of my future deathweavers have continued to participate in the activities, save for Ebony, who has made an occasional appearance. I think all of them have decided to concentrate on their more intense training.

As such, I have set for them a new goal. Each of them has been given someone that they must, using any of the pillars of our Prince they choose, to obtain a personal item from them. It cannot be something like a purse or something that any thief might be able to accomplish. I want something that requires getting close.

We shall see, next month, how they have actually done on their goals. I need to start training them how to use the skills they are learning to a more practical ability.

Of course I did my usual observation of their practice in the training room. They are greatly improving. Blaze and Effervescent continue to push each other with their competitive streak. I feel as though there is some sexual tension that has grown out of it and, honestly, I hope they continue to use that to work hard. Prince, he is an interesting fellow indeed.

Once everyone had gone to wash up, he approached me and asked if there were any way to get additional lessons or some private instruction. I felt as though he was trying to seduce me, but I did not say no, only inquired as to whether he had any particular concern. To this he said he was worried about his form. He said that men were not as agile as mer and that he was hoping to build his flexibility and to get help with the magickally based aspects of things, since he did not have a natural gift.

While I do not doubt that he was trying to get more than that of me, if any part of his request were true, I could hardly turn him down. After all, it was my own inability with magicka that had led me to this path and it was the careful instruction of my own teacher that allowed me to excel.

I strive to try and embody Luayl, though I hope to avoid developing romantic feelings for my pupil as he did. Of course Prince is hardly as young now as I was when I started, even making adjustments for the different lifespans of our respective races.

Prince has been told that I must make arrangements before agreeing to his request. If I felt like he could be trusted with my identity, I might try and have him hired on as a bodyguard and he would be able to observe and train more readily. The alternative is, of course, to have set times during the evening where I meet him at the Cathedral of Webs. The thought of so much teleportation turns my stomach. Yet it is the price I must pay if I desire to have the best Deathweavers.

The one most keen for my new lecture series, however, is Ebony. Not a great surprise given how I pulled her from the Maulborn because of her religious following. I spoke of the importance, even as devotees of our Prince, to honor their close siblings of the True Tribunal. Of why it is that the Prince of Dawn and Dusk should be given great reverence and why we had so much respect for the Ebony Serpent.

Ebony spoke to the others about her own beliefs in Lord Boethiah and what had drawn her to such a cause. Of course it was not as powerful for those who were not Dunmer, but I think that it drove the point across, nonetheless.

Like Prince, Ebony came to me after we had concluded our monthly rites and asked if we could talk. She had many thoughts and feelings about having focused her worship to a single Prince. And while I would not normally encourage such things, I did explain to her where in our liturgy we were actually giving honors to the other of the Three and why I felt it was important to retain such words in our daily practice.

Further, I told her that I have my own personal practice outside of my devotional duties to our Prince, wherein I make the appropriate ancient veneration of all Three Princes. I encouraged her to not give up on her desires to venerate Lord Boethiah and said that as long as it does not interfere with her duties in the Nest or in her having the best quality of life, I should like her to resume such worship.

She threw her arms around me, so overcome with emotion that it was not until she had already done so that she pulled back. I touched her cheek softly and told her that it was alright. In this place we are safe. That we can have some trust in the best intentions of one another, if you ensure that the spiders and Daedra are well cared for, at least. But that all us mortals must be allowed to live and work together as a family.

And it made me think, having so many people who no longer are seen to go to jobs, it might become suspicious, even if they do not frequent town quite so often. But perhaps that only leads more suspicion back to us.

Therefore, I have began to work with Tanur on a way to give the appearance of working a regular set of jobs. As he is a merchant, there are many jobs that can be done that give cause for people to be seen around one another.

As such, I am creating a list of potential jobs, some of which will be actual work, for those that would like to have more to do during the day or interact more in the public. For those that mostly wish to spend their time at the Nest and focused on their learning and honing their skills, there are less frequent opportunities, jobs such as courier. A merchant with a delivery service is rather handy. It will allow them all to earn additional wages, should they wish to do so, but also to be able to start to test the skills they have been practicing out with the public.

Zethith is skeptical of the plan until I have done more, but I think they are mostly glad to see me putting more time into my Nest. I think they believe I have been slacking on my duties and not devoting enough time to them. But I am here to prove otherwise!

I must write more lessons and give them more practice time. I want my spiderlings to be ready to start performing tasks assigned to them by the end of the year. There is too much to do that I have been putting off.

[harkovastwebcomic]

Chapter 26 Part 6

Shogun’s head felt suddenly light and his vision turned white. He placed a hand over his eyes and stood silently for a few moments until his senses returned. When he opened his eyes again he saw Goy’s expression was uncertain, torn between anger at Shogun’s demands and discomfort at Shogun’s obvious infirmity. ”Listen to me,” breathed Shogun, his words slow and forceful. “You are going to open that gate right now.” ”The warriors out there are already dead or captured,” Goy responded bluntly.

“Do what I say,” continued Shogun, “or I will kill you right now, you coward!” The soldiers around Goy all drew their swords, ready to defend their leader. Goy raised a hand for them to restrain themselves. ”You can barely stand, let alone fight,” said Goy. “You need to seek medical attention. Shotelis’ grace, man! You’re bleeding!” Goy pointed to the blood dripping rapidly from under Shogun’s armour onto the floor and forming a puddle at his feet. Shogun did not look to what Goy was pointing to, but swayed slightly on his feet. ”Get some help before you collapse,” said Goy. “War requires tough decisions and sacrifices. We can debate tactics later. I have the city’s defences to coordinate. Be on your way.” For a few moments, Shogun glared at Goy, before turning and walking away with an uncomfortable, lopsided gait. ”Should we arrest him?” asked one of the Nymus officers. “I would not tolerate such talk even from a citizen, let alone some foreign scrabber.” ”His warriors have been largely spent,” said another. “He has no particular use to us.” ”Why bother?” said Goy “He looks half dead.” ”But even injured, he is still dangerous,” said another officer. “A wounded Veth is most likely to bite. I certainly wouldn’t want to be the one to approach him!” ”In his current state,” said Goy, “I doubt he even knows what he is saying. Let him languish. By morning he will most likely be dead anyway. Now we have more important matters to attend to.” Despite his confident manner, this encounter had shaken Goy. His decision to close the gates had been taken quickly. Had he truly panicked? Should he have let the allied warriors enter? Perhaps there had been time. Though he would not lose sleep over the lives of mercenaries and Shogun’s thugs, additional warriors on the second line of defence would have been valuable. For a moment he felt himself gripped with doubt. He had set out to save his beloved city from its enemies, but now it was under siege, falling back to its inner defences. They were isolated--even the other city states seemed to have abandoned them. For the first time, he wondered if his judgement had been wrong. Had he led his people down a path of ruin and now it was too late to turn back? He pushed such thoughts from his mind. He was doing what had to be done, what any true patriot would do in his position. The Gods and Shaldemos would not let Yalangov fall.

[quinn-loves-liam]

Hey dumpling, you can totally ignore this but I just wanted to apologize. I know you probably don’t even want to see me in pictures, I really never wanted to hurt you or Liam but Star had me on a choke hold and she was very manipulative, she made me feel like shit for talking to y’all and when she learned that I felt something for y’all she started to say scary stuff and the only way for me to calm her was to say what I said again I’m very sorry and I hope you are doing well

Oh, hey,

I'm not sure where to start, so I'm just going to say it, and I hope other than this, you're doing well. I know it's been quite some time since we last spoke, and I've been reflecting a lot on our past interactions. Recently, you reached out to apologize for the hurtful things you said to both me and my partners, and I want to acknowledge that I appreciate your effort to make amends.

The words you spoke at that time cut deep and left lasting emotional scars. I won't deny that it took me a long time to come to terms with the pain they caused. At that time, I was struggling with feelings of insecurity, unsure if I was a bad person or not, and you used that vulnerability to harm me, regardless of what led you to say those hurtful things.

The fact that you blamed your ex for manipulating you only added to the complexity of my feelings. I couldn't help but question why you didn't communicate with me about this manipulative person or take a different path that wouldn't have hurt me so much.

Since that time, life has taken an unexpected turn for me. I was involved in a car crash that served as a wake-up call, forcing me to reevaluate my life and the people in it. This experience made me realize that life is precious and too short to hold onto grudges or negative feelings. While I can't forget the past, I'm willing to consider giving you another chance.

However, I need you to understand that rebuilding trust is not an easy task. It requires genuine effort and accountability. I want to believe that you've grown and learned from the past, but I can't ignore my concerns about being manipulated again.

One thing that adds to my doubts is the anonymous nature of your apology. You sent it without revealing your main tumblr account, and this makes me question if you're truly willing to genuinely say sorry. I'm aware of how you had several accounts, and there was one in particular that I wasn't allowed to see much of. I even remember when you mistakenly sent me the link to that account once. All of this contributes to my uncertainty about your sincerity. I hope this will help you understand the magnitude of the pain you caused and the importance of making amends sincerely.

If you genuinely wish to be a part of my life again, I need to see a consistent effort on your part. It won't be an overnight process, and I can't promise that things will go back to the way they were. However, if you demonstrate through your actions that you've changed, learned from your mistakes, and are committed to being a better friend, there's a chance for us to rebuild our bond.

Please understand that my decision to reconnect will be based on your actions, not just words. It's essential that you respect my boundaries and give me the space to process everything. Copy-pasting an apology feels less genuine, and it would mean a lot more to me if you took the time to craft a heartfelt message that addresses the specific hurt you caused.

I hope you can comprehend the weight of my emotions and the significance of rebuilding trust. As I contemplate letting you back into my life, know that I'm doing so out of a desire for closure and not wanting to harbor resentment forever. Life is precious, and I want to make the most of it by fostering healthy relationships.

Take some time to reflect on what I've shared with you. When you're ready to demonstrate your sincerity, reach out to me with a genuine and personal message. Let's talk openly and honestly, without any pressure or expectations.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and whatever the truth is, I just hope no one gets hurt this time around.

[gurugirl]

Forgive Me, Father | Part 1

Summary: Harry is a priest with a dark secret but he's got a big heart and he's looking for someone special to share it with. When Y/n confesses her sins, he thinks she might just be the one.

A/n: Part 1 of 3 - this is 16k words. I haven't really written anything with this type of dom/sub play before - though this first part doesn't get too deep into it, you'll know it when you read it.

Warning: Dom/sub dynamics, mentions of religion and sin, floggings for pleasure and penance, mentions of sexual situations and masturbation, sexual tension, mentions of caging, punishment, cheating

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Harry was a holy man despite his particular desires. He became a priest relatively young but he took all the necessary steps; went to seminary for four years, studied theology and philosophy as an undergraduate, made his vows then became a man of the cloth. He was a deacon, his transitional role for just over a year in Manchester the first time he felt tempted by a beautiful young woman in the congregation. But he resisted. He knew the devil was trying him. But his holy side won out over his flesh.

He desired to act on his flesh, though. And he might have if he’d been given a moment alone with the young woman. He imagined what it would be like but it was easy to resist when he hadn’t really had a real opportunity. All his formative years had him at all-boys schools as well. His four years in seminary were spent amongst young men his age. It wasn’t until his fourth year at seminary that he realized he was even attracted to men. The realization was a difficult one for him at first, being a man of God, a Christian on the path to priesthood. It was troubling to him so he pushed his sexual desires down until they only manifested in his sleep with salacious dreams and waking up wet in his underwear.

When he finally became ordained and was given his own congregation he felt he’d made it at last. The road to get where he was took a long time. The diocese wouldn't take a man under 30 in many cases, so he found a place that would because he knew in his heart he was ready. There were no shortcuts to becoming a priest, a five-year-long journey at minimum. For many, the transitional period took a lot longer than it did for Harry. A year of transition as a deacon is the minimum and that’s all it took for Harry to be called by God to his own church.

Being a 27-year-old man with his own congregation in small-town Wisconsin felt daunting. Harry was not from the US and he’d never been to Wisconsin before arriving in the town. The parish was near the shores of Lake Michigan. It was quaint and quiet but it was home to nearly 100,000 people. Not so small that he'd be lacking for company.

Harry worked and lived in the same buildings for three years diligently. He was kind to his congregation, a good priest and leader, made friends with many of the people who were members, and always had a warm meal offered to him through an invite to come to the houses of families who attended his services.

He didn’t always take them up on the meals. Harry enjoyed being alone at the end of the day but most evenings he’d find himself at someone’s home eating a big dinner with people he usually considered family. On his 30th birthday, his congregation held a small surprise potluck for him after service one Sunday. He felt blessed to have such a wonderful group of followers. He truly loved them.

On a Friday evening, Mrs. Brockton had called Harry and invited him to dinner. Harry had a feeling deep down that he should say no. But he liked Mrs. Brockton. Maybe he liked her a little too much. He would never act on the carnal, it was in his vows to remain celibate, though the rules had been loosened somewhat over the years for priests, Harry was invested in the old way of doing things. God and his priesthood came first for him. The sin of lust led many to take a husband or a wife just for the sake of their flesh. Harry would not give his heart to anyone but God.

But part of that reasoning for going to the extreme with his vows was because of his unsavory desires. He never acted on them, but he fantasized and would have vivid dreams of the things he wished he could play out in real life. There was an aspect of denial of the flesh that he got off on as well. It made him feel superior in some ways; the continual denial of his lust and sin.

A man of thirty years, he was still a virgin, and happily. Proudly even. He also could count how many times in his life he'd masturbated when he became weak to his flesh. He rarely sinned in such a way but when he did it was always atoned for with a flog at his back and his chest.

Harry brought with him only his Bible when he arrived at Mr. and Mrs. Brockton's home. She told him not to bring any food or drink, but that she would have everything taken care of.

And she most certainly had everything taken care of. Down to the detail she conveniently forgot to mention, that Mr. Brockton was gone for a work trip in another city for the evening.

"I cannot stay Mrs. Brockton. I hope you do understand. We must at all times keep even the appearance of evil at bay. If others were to know I was here without Mr. Brockton they could get the wrong idea," he spoke as he clutched the Bible over his heart. The home smelled divine. She'd obviously been cooking up something wonderful and she clearly had taken the time to freshen up her appearance as well. Not that she needed it. Mrs. Brockton was a beautiful woman, even Harry could see that.

"Father Styles, please. Can we address one another casually? You can call me Natalie if you don't mind that I just call you Harry. And... look, I know I should have told you but I'm lonely and I need counsel tonight. As a friend. As someone I trust to not tell anyone my problems. George being gone tonight is the only time I'll have for this. I wanted this to be private."

Harry frowned. He didn't love it when his members called him by his first name, but it wasn't the end of the world. He'd always been warned about getting too close, too familiar. Friendly was good, but there was a line. However, he supposed just this once, and for Natalie, he could. She seemed to genuinely need him and his advice. So he relented and they sat in the living room while the dinner finished cooking in the oven.

“Fath… Harry,” Natalie said as she looked at Harry flustered, “I don’t know what to do about George. He keeps going away on these trips and I’m starting to wonder if there is something else going on.”

Harry listened to Natalie’s story. She had the feeling George was cheating on her but she had no proof. During dinner, Natalie set next to Harry and her demeanor changed. She was lighter and bubblier as the subject had shifted. Harry had given her some advice but he ultimately told Natalie that worrying over something without proof would take her eyes off God. That it did her soul no good to jump to conclusions. However, even as Harry said that he wondered himself about Mr. Brockton taking off on so many overnight trips.

After the plates were cleared and Natalie brought out a bottle of wine to share with Harry, they moved back into the living area and sat on the comfortable couch to continue their discussion. Harry had prayed with Natalie before they sipped their wine.

Natalie loved the way Harry's deep voice called to God when he spoke the prayer. The way his intense eyes would watch her as she spoke. His pink lips were kissable and his hair always looked so well-placed.

Harry was an attractive man. Many of the women in the congregation would gossip about how good-looking the priest was. Harry was tall, well-built, and gorgeous really. He was also smart and so well-behaved around all the women that it drove some of them crazy. Occasionally some would attempt to dress in a way that would attract him, and catch his eye, but it never worked. Harry was committed even if internally he was lusting.

But Mrs. Brockton, one time, had seen how Harry looked at her when she wore a particularly low-cut dress to Harry’s after he’d invited a small group over for prayer after Sunday mass. He would sometimes invite members of his congregation over for a drink and to pray after services. This wasn't too out of the ordinary.

After two glasses of wine, Harry was feeling a little loose, as he normally does under the influence. It hadn't been much wine, but he didn't need much as he usually refrained from drinking outside of these social settings. So a little was all it took.

This is when Mrs. Brockton noticed Harry's obvious gaze at her bosom. He even licked his lips and then looked down at his hands as he swallowed thickly. She saw it all. So she tested the waters and went to him before leaving with her husband.

"Will you send me off with a quick prayer, Father?" Her intentions were not pure, and Harry could feel it in the way she spoke, the way her eyes roamed his body, and the bite of her lip.

But he indulged her because denying her at that moment would raise more questions.

It was a fast little prayer. Mrs. Brockton grabbed Harry's hands in hers and as he prayed he felt her warm fingers gently move across the skin on his hands. It filled him with lust. Just the feel of her skin on his hand. When he opened his eyes, mid-prayer, a quick look, her breasts were in view again and they were delectable. Harry darted his gaze from her cleavage to her eyes and she was already looking at him with the smallest grin on her pretty face so Harry quickly shut his eyes and finished the prayer before sending everyone away.

That night was one of the rare times he masturbated. He'd grown hard in his pants as everyone was leaving and Mrs. Brockton made a show of swinging her hips and with the little hug she gave him on her way out of the door had her pressed against him and he felt lust in his heart.

He felt shame for it and he knew she saw him looking. He hated that his body wanted to have sex. Normally all of his lust would be reserved for his dreams He would wake from dreams where he'd be fucking men and women and coming. He'd dream of having soft lips sucking on his cock or he'd be doing the same. Or he'd wake to find that he wasn't in between a woman's legs licking over her soft parts. In his waking life, he got no action. But in his dreams, he was a sex maniac doing ungodly things.

He'd gone to counsel about his dreams and had been told they were only dreams and that the flesh was fighting the devil inside of him when he was asleep, but as long as he didn't act on it while he was conscious, he would be absolved. It also turned out that other men of the cloth who remained celibate were afflicted with the same type of dreams. Though, Harry knew that his were of a particular caliber, and quite taboo so he never told the clergy of the details.

But now here he sat in Mrs. Brockton's home with her husband gone and she was wearing something that rose up her thigh as she sat. Harry did his best not to notice how pretty she was or how good she smelled. His belly was full of her delicious cooking and now, on his second glass of wine, he began to feel that familiar buzz and he was getting loose. Comfortable.

Mrs. Brockton moved to sit directly next to Harry on the couch and put her hand on his knee. She'd seen how he was looking at her. And once again, her intentions were not pure. She knew Harry was a virgin. She wondered what he looked like under all the clothes he wore. He was slim and tall and seemed to be particularly buff in his chest region with a nice tight ass. She wanted a piece of him.

Harry closed his eyes when he felt Natalie's hand on his thigh, but she acted as if it was nothing while Harry was reeling inside, being the touch-starved virgin he was.

"So, that was the gist of the play we went to. I really think it would have been better if they'd cast Ramuel as Moses instead of Carter. I think Carter did a great job, but he's too young, don't you think?"

Harry was barely listening. He was just trying to work on keeping his boner down. Mrs. Brockton was beautiful and Harry was easy to rile up so her hand on his thigh was sending him. Harry didn’t normally put himself into precarious situations like this for a reason. He wasn’t sure how strong he actually was. He’d been wise all these years to stay away from circumstances that put him alone with someone he felt attracted to. But now, he was here with Mrs. Brockton and she was coming on to him, or so it seemed. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to resist her for much longer when his mind started to wander with all the possibilities.

Suddenly he stood up, "I should leave, Natalie. Thank you for the meal and I hope my advice was good."

Natalie stood quickly and grasped Harry's wrist, "Please. Finish your wine first, Harry. It's a really good bottle, expensive, and I would hate to dump the rest. I can't finish the bottle on my own," she stepped in closer looking up at the handsome man, hoping she could persuade him.

Harry sighed and nodded. He could finish his glass of wine as a way to be polite. But he really wanted to leave because he was already thickening in his pants, his imagination was taking him down the dark road toward his lustful, forbidden fantasies.

"Okay. I'll stay and finish my glass. I do need to use the bathroom, however."

The bathroom was in the hallway near the two bedrooms. Harry closed the door behind him and turned the faucet on to drown out the noise of what he was about to do.

He felt he had no choice. He couldn't be sitting in Mrs. Brockton's living room with an erection so he needed to take care of it. It wouldn't have been proper to be around her in the state he was in.

"Father forgive me..." Harry whispered under his breath as he pulled himself out of his pants and spit into his palm. He stroked himself gently and swiped over his tip before spitting down onto his penis again for better glide.

Harry kept one hand on the counter to brace himself as he held his cock in the other. His pants fell to the floor after a couple of minutes of pumping himself and the belt smacked into the tile with a clank.

He was nearly there, almost done when he heard a knock at the door then Natalie’s voice, "Are you okay, Harry? I heard something..." and then suddenly the door was opening, despite Harry having been sure he'd locked it.

Natalie stood in silence as she looked down at Harry's large, swollen cock with his fist wrapped around it. She knew that he had big hands for a reason - the better to hold that large thing with. She stepped in as Harry tried covering himself but it had been too late. She'd seen what he was doing.

"I'm so sorry, Natalie, I was..." but his words were cut off when she lowered her hand to him and put her palm over the stiff cock, and wrapped her fist as much as she could, around him.

"Don't be sorry. Please, Harry..." she dropped to her knees and kept her hand on his shaft as she looked up at him. Her free hand smoothed up his thigh, where she saw a forbidden tattoo. His thighs were well-muscled and thick. She moved her fist over Harry and looked back up at him.

"Please. Let me help. You need relief, Father," and with her eyes on his, she kissed the side of his thick shaft and Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He had been so close to orgasm and now he was suddenly caught in the haze of lust and sin. He knew it would be easy to just let her finish him off.

He was powerless to stop what was happening. It was a dream he'd had for so long to have someone sucking him off. His flesh won out at that moment. He’d never had that kind of opportunity present itself before and he was surprised by how quickly he gave in once her hand was on him. But it felt so good. Better than he realized it would.

And Natalie's mouth was soft and warm and wet and Harry came so fast - as he always did because he was hard up. She slurped his cock and drank him down when he came with a moan and he pressed the back of her head down over him on instinct.

Harry tried apologizing again. He dressed in haste but Natalie assured him he had nothing to worry about with her. He'd only need to ask forgiveness from God but his secret was safe with her as long as her secret was safe with him.

And this led to other, more intimate encounters with Mrs. Brockton. She and Harry had begun a small affair. She took his virginity and taught him how to eat, as she called it. Harry had deep guilt about what he'd done with a married member of his congregation but she seemed to love it. She would even beg him at times. He had a hard time resisting her once he’d gotten a taste.

Soon, Harry learned that he was quite dominant when it came to sex. Mrs. Brockton loved all of it. He'd fuck her in the rectory and the confessional, but usually, it happened in the privacy of his parsonage. He would gag her and bind her to keep her quiet and then have her tied down and spread out so he could fuck her in any way she could take it. Harry particularly got a taste for anal. Natalie had never had her bum fucked before Harry but he was slowly turning into a man who craved and fantasized about sex all the time and he played out some of his unusual kinks with Natalie.

He issued her spankings with his hand and occasionally his flog, which he also used as his punishment for carnal, sinful thoughts, now it was used to whip Mrs. Brockton. He couldn't do it often, though, because Mr. Brockton would have taken note of course.

Eventually, though, Mrs. Brockton wasn't enough. Harry's appetite for the carnal was something unshakable. He'd been introduced to sex in the flesh and not just in his dreams, and now he couldn't have it often enough and with Natalie being married she wasn't available as he needed.

He'd find himself going into Chicago or Milwaukee and meeting women and men at bars. He began experimenting with what he liked and he really liked just about everything. He loved pain and he loved to issue pain. Part of it was because of the guilt he felt and the pain was a way to ask for forgiveness, but eventually, Harry stopped feeling too bad about wanting to have sex. And after a year of exploring, he felt like all the time he’d resisted temptation had been such a waste now that he knew what it was like. Harry was a sexual being but still held onto his spirituality.

He enjoyed being a priest but he also enjoyed being a man who loved to fuck. Loving God and fucking were quite equal in his eyes and now he would not ever be without either. But continuing in his priesthood in this way must change eventually. Harry began to come up with a plan that could have him being a spiritual leader who could also have deranged sex when he pleased.

It took some more years before Harry's plan started to come to fruition. He remained a priest in small-town Wisconsin while he enjoyed his flesh most nights of the week. Once, he had a young woman stay in his parsonage in a small cage, which she did so willingly. Harry would come and go as needed but when he'd return to his parsonage he'd bring his little pet out and fuck her dumb and then put her back in her cage.

Of course, she had a job and she had taken off only a week of work so she could be imprisoned and degraded by the hot priest. So that didn't last because she had responsibilities. But Harry wished it could have lasted forever. He thought how nice it would be to find someone that would want to be his willing captive to cage. To have someone he could keep as his submissive pet and do with as he pleased. He obviously wanted the person to also enjoy the scenario with him, he wasn't a monster. But now it was his goal. To find someone who could be his and whom he could do with as he pleased. A submissive who would never want to leave him.

He'd tried it with various people. At first, they liked it. Some wanted it more than he did. But it was a matter of finding the right one. Someone who he could connect with and feel engaged with and vice versa. He had a young man with him for a few weeks (which was the longest stretch he'd had one person as his pet) but eventually Harry came to realize that he needed something else. Someone else. The young man was lovely and might have been a great submissive companion for years to come, but it wasn't quite it. So he continued his search for the perfect person.

One Sunday during service, Harry caught the eye of a beautiful woman. He immediately imagined her waiting for him in his cage, tied up, blindfolded, red swollen stripes over her back and her thighs from the flog... Someone to keep forever. He tried to push the feelings down as much as he could while he was in the middle of his prayer but she was incredibly alluring.

Many times he did find appealing men and women but after speaking to them for a bit realized they wouldn't be quite fit for the job. It took a very particular kind of person to do the things Harry required. So he intended on meeting this beautiful woman and chatting with her. Typically, he could tell rather quickly if they could be a candidate or not. Normally people were not. Most of the time he settled for a good evening of sex instead when he would have much preferred to have found his companion.

But Harry was also alluring. In fact, once he began having sex regularly more and more people would recognize how attractive and persuasive the priest could be. His confidence increased immeasurably once he began having sex. His charm was undeniable. The man was irresistible to many. But of course, being a priest, most did not know the dark secrets he had. He kept his escapades quiet. Mrs. Brockton knew that he was kinky but they’d long ago stopped their tryst and he could trust her to not say a word to anyone.

The young woman who he spotted during his prayer was near the end of the aisle toward the front and to Harry, it appeared she was alone. The woman took note of how the attractive priest kept looking her way. His light green eyes lingering in her direction, the way at one point after a bit of a gaze he smiled shyly and looked down and she could swear she saw him blush. But of course, Harry was acting. He was putting on a show for her. To draw her in.

And it worked. When the service was over, everyone flocked to Harry as they so often did. The young woman lingered and waited for the crowd to thin before she approached the priest who looked like a god.

Harry saw her coming toward him from his peripheral. He knew she'd come to him. So when he turned to her he acted surprised and flattered that the new girl was coming to greet him.

And she ate up his act, combined with the underlying sensual nature of the way he would lean in to speak and his voice would drop so that only she could hear, the way he'd touch his lips "innocently", and the way his eyes took her in as she spoke, roaming her face and her neck as if to size her up. She felt like the only person in the world at that moment. But he was still very priestly, Godly, at the same time.

Harry decided to take his time with this one. He wanted to invite her over right away for a drink to feel her out but he wanted to play up the godly priest as much as he could. It would be a real test when it came time to learn what she liked. Would his being a priest deter her? If so, she wasn't the one. But, if it only drew her in more, if she was more intrigued by his godliness and still wanted to explore with him then she could be a good fit.

Harry had plans that evening to join a family at their home for dinner. The Sothebys were quite wealthy and Harry very much enjoyed being invited for dinner. They had the most lavish meals with the best wine and bourbon. Harry never drank much but he did enjoy a vintage cabernet sauvignon from time to time, or an aged, smooth bourbon on the rocks.

Tonight’s dinner had been a special occasion, according to Mrs. Sotheby. They had their niece with them to visit from out of town for a while. Harry was given a glass of a cab and directed to sit in the parlor with Mr. Sotheby and his son for a chit-chat while the ladies finished dinner. Harry truly did care for all members of the parish. He loved them and his empathy and kindness toward them were evident. Everyone trusted Harry and he was the best listener. It’s what made him so good at being a priest. Not only did he love God and knew the word well, he understood humans and empathized as a sinner himself. He loved listening to his members and giving advice. He enjoyed praying for them and with them. Despite Harry’s dark secret, his heart was big and he was loving.

When everyone was ushered into the dining room to eat, Harry sat in the spot he normally took closest to the window where the sun would oftentimes be shining in, but on this day, the sky was overcast and there was a cool breeze coming in from the North. Winter was on its way.

Harry had finished his glass of wine as Mrs. Sotheby brought in a tray with Beef Wellington surrounded by roasted vegetables. It looked delicious and Harry was hungry for Mrs. Sotheby’s cooking. And he just knew she must have used prime beef tenderloin in the Wellington because the Sotheby’s did not skimp on the quality of ingredients for all the years he’d been dining with them.

“Father, you’re low on wine. Here, let’s get that taken care of…” Mrs. Sotheby spoke as she turned toward the kitchen, “Y/n!! Please bring that bottle of Caymus with you, hon!”

Nearly fifteen seconds later she was there. Harry’s fantasy girl. He saw her enter the dining room with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bowl of bearnaise in the other.

She didn’t look at him immediately but he knew she was aware of him. She must have been. This dinner was made with him in mind, and it was also welcome for her visit.

Harry remained stoic as he watched her place the bowl down near the large serving platter and then she looked up to let her eyes land on the priest’s. She smiled and he watched her take a deep breath as she rounded the table toward him, “Here, Father… let me top you off,” her sweet voice could almost be tasted. Harry watched her move as she lifted the bottle and poured the red liquid into his glass. Her neck was slender and her jaw was soft and feminine. Her hair was pinned back on the sides, which was different than how she wore it a couple of hours earlier at mass. Harry noted the slight natural blush over her cheeks and he thanked her when she placed the bottle down on the table.

Harry was pleased when she sat next to him. She didn’t speak much but ate her food and smiled throughout. Harry noted she only had one glass of wine and that she seemed a tiny bit nervous. He wondered if he should address her nervousness with her in private or not. He was searching for any excuse to speak to her alone.

Dinner was amazing. Harry had his tummy full and two glasses of wine during dinner and then afterward a glass of bourbon on the rocks as he normally did. The men sat in the parlor once again to chat and wind down as the women cleaned up. But Harry didn’t like this setup anymore. He enjoyed chatting with Mr. Sotheby and his son, but he wanted to see Y/n and assist in clean up, like the gentleman that he was.

“I think I’d like to help clean up the kitchen with the ladies if you don’t mind, gentleman,” Harry spoke as he got up from the cushy seat.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Sotheby and Y/n were giggling about something and wrapping the food when Harry entered. Y/n quickly turned to see him and her eyes widened when she looked at Mrs. Sotheby. Both women stopped what they were doing and looked at one another with a secret in their eyes.

“Father, what can I help you with?” Mrs. Sotheby rang out as she continued her task.

Harry strode into the room casually with the confidence of a man who knew what he was doing, “I’m here to help, ladies. Felt wrong to let you two do all the clean up when you’ve also cooked everything and made this dinner possible. The least I can do is help out.”

Harry began to roll up his sleeves as he walked toward the sink, intent on washing some dishes and assisting in the best way he could.

“That’s really not necessary, Father. We love having you join us. I know you always insist on helping but truly, I’ve got Y/n here with me now and I think you should enjoy your conversation with Hank.”

Harry looked toward Y/n and she was wrapping up the vegetables with a small, shy smile on her face as she looked down. Adorable, he thought. He began to rinse the dishes in the sink and turned to look at Mrs. Sotheby, “I knew you’d say that. But I’d rather serve than sit.” Harry loved using corny sayings like that. His congregation ate it up and they always thought of Harry as someone who loved telling a good dad joke here and there. And he did. He enjoyed his dual life and cherished both of his sides.

When the dishes were done and the kitchen was clean, Harry finished off his glass of bourbon and prayed with the family before leaving. He had everyone stand together in a small circle and hold hands, being sure to stand near Y/n. Her fingers were cold in his large palm but he cupped her hand in his securely, occasionally loosening and then tightening around her fingers.

The prayer was a quick one but the feel of Harry’s hand around Y/n’s had her heart pounding. Harry’s work there was done. He’d eaten a good meal, had plenty to drink which would put him right to sleep, got to watch sweet Y/n blush and listen to her speak on various topics from time to time, and got her a bit flustered as well even though he hadn’t really done much. She seemed to fit his type quite perfectly.

He would have much preferred to have brought her to his bed to play with her at the end of the night, but he knew he needed to suss her out first. She was, after all, a niece of someone wealthy in the congregation and he couldn’t just go off and fuck her and then invite her to be his submissive companion. The work of getting the right one was a slow, arduous process that couldn’t be rushed. Especially when it came to someone that might be attending his services. He’d like her as a pet immediately but he could be patient to be precise in his actions.

The following week at mass Y/n was there again. Harry was happy to see her pretty face amongst the congregation and she kept her eyes on him as he spoke. Harry used his incredible self-control to not look her way as often as he wanted. And his self-control was certainly a thing he used in many circumstances. He was, after all, a man who’d abstained from sex for 30 years and who barely allowed himself to masturbate. But now, he’d been having sex for nearly three years and he no longer abstained from it or masturbation. But his self-control was still incredible and so not looking toward Y/n was not that difficult.

Harry had wanted to reach out to her during the week, an excuse to talk to her under the guise of giving her advice or counsel if she chose. But he stopped himself during the few moments of weakness in his mind. It also helped that he had a woman in his parsonage with him for a few days the week after meeting Y/n. So he wasn’t hard up, but he did think of Y/n every day, which was not his norm. The woman was meant to stay longer but Harry dismissed her Sunday morning before mass. They’d had their fun together, but Harry was not interested any longer. He was interested in Y/n now.

When service had come to an end, Y/n left quickly, which put a frown on Harry’s face. He spoke with his members and prayed with them as he always did and when he was invited to dinner with the Fortanels, he declined this time. He wanted to find Y/n and perhaps have a moment with her. He would never get anywhere with figuring out anything about her if he didn’t try to have contact with her.

So he did what any man would do who wanted to get to know a woman he was interested in, he called her. Not her directly, but he dialed the Sotheby’s number and asked to speak with Y/n when Mr. Sotheby answered the call, “Hi. It’s Father Harry here. I just wanted to see if I could speak with Y/n for a moment. I felt something in my heart that needed to be said to her today and I couldn’t find her after mass this afternoon.”

When Y/n spoke into the receiver Harry couldn’t stop his smile from taking over. He told her something he made up as his reason for the call and asked her if she’d like to join him the following evening for a small prayer group that he held on Mondays in his parsonage. Of course, Y/n was quick to say yes. She was intrigued by the handsome priest.

That evening, Harry didn’t have one of his regulars come over for a night in his bed as he normally would. He resorted to what many single people do, masturbation. He thought of Y/n’s smooth skin and her lips, her big round eyes, and her shy demeanor. On the very surface she seemed like a good candidate, but how could he know if she truly would fit into Harry’s world the way he wanted until he got to know her better?

Before the prayer meeting, where there would only be three others in attendance, Harry set up his room, put away his flog and ties, covered the cage, and locked his bedroom door for good measure. Then he set up the living space where everyone would sit, knowing that two of those coming were a couple and would sit next to one another, which meant Y/n would inevitably be sitting next to Harry. He readied coffee and pulled out two bottles of wine and lit a candle. It was his typical setup. Harry’s home was very plain. He didn’t have many things to clutter the space. Only a few pictures of his family from London and one or two knick-knacks that had been given to him over the years. His wooden floors had a large carpet covering the center and the furniture he used had been there when he moved in.

Y/n arrived first. Harry had a feeling she would. She was shy and smiley and polite off the bat. Harry ushered her in and gently put his hand on her low back, just the slightest touch. He didn’t want to seem like a creep. But with the way she blushed, he knew she liked it. She accepted a glass of wine and sat in one of the chairs Harry had put in the circle.

“Is there anything you’d like to speak with me about one-on-one before the other two arrive, Y/n?” Harry tilted his head and looked at the young woman with his own glass of wine in hand as he sat next to her.

“Oh, well, I think I would like to talk about something. Um…” but before she could continue there was a knock at the door to indicate the others had arrived. Harry gave her a disappointed look, “Stay after the meeting with me and we can talk about it then,” he spoke as he got up to open the door for the new arrivals.

Everyone had their fill of coffee and wine during the hour-long prayer meeting. Half of the time was taken up by Arthur speaking about his concern for the state of the world. Usually, the prayer meetings would include discussion and then prayer based on what was discussed, this time was the same. Y/n barely spoke but Harry could sense her eyes on him for most of the meeting. They sat next to one another in the small little circle and when they ended with prayer Harry took her hand in his and like the time before when he’d held her hand in prayer, he loosened and tightened his grip around her hand slowly, like a comforting squeeze. But when Y/n suddenly squeezed his hand back Harry smiled to himself as he continued speaking his prayer. Her squeeze was not subtle, and neither was the way she used her thumb to gently drag it along the inside of his palm.

When the couple left, finally, Harry and Y/n sat back in their respective spots next to one another and Harry prompted her to continue where she left off earlier.

Y/n’s cheeks were wine flushed, but she was not drunk, just cozy and warm. She licked her lips and sat up straight as if she was called on in school to answer the question in front of the class. She wiggled her bottom in her seat and cleared her throat, “I have been thinking of going to confession but I haven’t made it yet because it’s so hard to admit sometimes when I’m in sin. I’m here with my aunt and uncle because of things I did back home. Things I was interested in and it’s awful and embarrassing but I’m hoping here I can become new again and move on from my old ways.”

Harry rolled his lips into his mouth and squinted at Y/n as she spoke. He didn’t know of her past, “Tell me, dear. What have you done? You can skip going to the confessional if you do it here with me. It’s the same really. I’d be the one listening to your sins anyway. I won’t judge you. That’s not for me to do.

He was very curious as to what she’d done that led her to move in with her aunt and uncle temporarily and get away from her hometown. She was an adult who could have made her own choices and gone to any town, but she chose to come here to get away from whatever it was she’d done.

Y/n laughed and looked at her lap where her hands were clasped together before she lifted her head to put her gaze on the priest, “Sexual sin. I’ve had sex and I know I should wait for marriage, but it’s so hard because it feels so good. It feels like God wants us to have sex often, he made us to enjoy it, right? And that’s my problem. I just like it and I don’t feel as guilty about it as I should,” she looked back down and bit her lip. Her cheeks were especially pink now. From embarrassment or shame.

Harry was very interested. The girl was into sex and admittedly so. But who wasn’t really? Most of his congregation came to him for sins of lust when it came time to confess. There were hardly any virgins amongst his members, not even the ones who were single and publicly claimed to be.

“Your feelings are normal, dear. Sex is a very important part of how we express love and pleasure and it’s hard to deny ourselves of the flesh at times. We are all guilty of the sin of lust. Most humans are not free of that burden,” Harry kept his eyes on the girl and watched as she shook her head. She turned to look up at Harry again.

“Well, yes, Father. That’s true. But my problem is deeper I think. It’s not just the sin of lust and premarital sex, it’s sexual deviancy,” she whispered the word deviancy like it was a bad word, “I like things most people do not and it’s frowned upon, especially as a Christian. It’s part of why I moved here. I was found out,” she wrung her hands together in her lap and closed her eyes and sighed before she opened them back up to continue, “I was caught with a married man. He’d left me tied to his bed thinking his wife was going to be gone for the day. But she returned while I was there on her bed and now I’m here. Trying to be better.”

Harry was silent. He didn’t know how to respond to this beautiful young woman admitting to him the things she just had. And so openly. He wanted to ask her more about what she liked but felt that would be too much too soon. Inappropriate in fact. But he was bursting to know.

“I see. Look, we all have things that are hidden and dark. We do our best to deal with them in the kindest way we can in this life. The best thing you can do is to be kind to yourself. Don’t doubt you’re a wonderful person just because you have a preference for certain things,” Harry put his hand on her shoulder to emphasize his words. And he meant them. He always felt humans were too hard on themselves when it came to sins of lust and sex. He obviously had a soft spot for those who had lustful sin.

He watched Y/n as she leaned her head to the side toward where Harry’s hand was placed on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and stretched her neck toward his hand but then opened her eyes and looked at the priest, “Thank you, Father. That makes me feel so much better. It’s worse really, than just what I said but I’m too embarrassed to tell you more. I’m sure you’d cast me out like the devil if you knew,” she laughed and smiled at the man. His clear, bright eyes were on hers intently and they were beautiful. His smile revealed dimples on his cheeks and the bit of scruff on his face was so attractive that Y/n forced herself to not imagine what it would feel like being scraped against her face, or in between her thighs.

Harry noted how her gaze lingered on his. The way she looked at his mouth and how she looked desperate a little. The poor thing was probably trying to be good but deep down she just wanted to be bad. But to Harry, she was beginning to fill in all the little boxes he needed to have checked in order to find the right one. He couldn’t know for sure just yet, but he’d continue to find out more about her and make a determination soon. He just needed more time. He wanted to do this right.

Before she left they had agreed upon a schedule for Harry to counsel her and pray with her for her sins. They’d meet together every other day in his parsonage for as long as she needed. Which was just perfect for Harry. He’d get to look at the cute thing as she confessed her dark deeds to him and he’d lead her in prayer and with guidance. And Harry knew she found him attractive. Most people did really, but with Y/n, it excited him in a way he hadn’t been excited about in a long time.

At their first one-on-one meeting, Y/n had withdrawn a bit into herself. She seemed down and gave the priest very little information like she had the first night after their prayer meeting. He wondered if the wine had been a factor in the way she so honestly expressed herself that night. He’d need to work on that with her. Relying on alcohol as a way to feel more expressive and comfortable was worse to Harry than it was to have sex outside of marriage.

He still gave her gentle advice, prayed with her, and kissed her forehead before she left. He could tell she was struggling. But he could see how she was looking at him when he’d speak, how she kept crossing her legs and would squeeze her thighs tightly together, her flushed cheeks, and that was all he needed to know that she was aching for relief. Perhaps she was so overwhelmed with need and lust that she was pushing herself to close up. Which was probably a normal reaction. Harry had gone through the same when he first fought with himself to stop his sudden need to have sex. He would be patient with her.

In their following meeting, Harry was armed with a bit more information. After she left their one-on-one meeting he decided to search for her on social media. She had a pretty decent presence online. She was popular, had a lot of friends back home, and seemed like a normal young woman as far as he could tell. But then the further he dug he found some people who had mentioned her in their posts. Particularly one woman who seemed to greatly dislike her.

He came to find out that the man that Y/n had been caught with was this woman’s husband. She dragged Y/n and exposed her secrets in detail online. According to the woman, her husband had been seduced, and then he tied her to the bed as he left to go get help which is when the wife arrived home, as the man was out “getting help”. He learned that Y/n was completely naked in their bed where she was tied at the wrists and ankles. She had marks over her thighs, her stomach, and her back, likely from being spanked, but the wife posed that Y/n had done it to herself as a way to make everyone feel sorry for her.

This said a few things to Harry. First, was that he believed Y/n and that when she said she’d been seeing the man it was likely not the first time they’d been together, nor the first time she’d been tied to his bed and spanked. And with the man having gone to “get help” it was more likely part of their play and he was leaving her as punishment. Y/n liked to be punished.

Harry was thankful for social media but he was also angry that her secrets had been exposed in such a heartless way. Of course, the woman thought that her husband was totally innocent, but that’s Christian society for you in a nutshell, putting all the blame on the woman and absolving the man. Harry tried to lead his congregation in a way that allowed for empathy and love no matter what. He would have been pissed at any of his followers if they had ousted a fellow member in this way.

Y/n was quiet at first when she arrived at their second one-on-one meeting. But her face looked brighter this time and she seemed to be more talkative after a little bit of Harry nudging her in the right direction. He wouldn’t tell her about what he knew. He hoped that she’d tell him in her own time, though. And she did. Not at that meeting but the following week she’d poured her soul out to him.

Of course, it didn’t just happen that she handed the priest all of this information out of the blue. The lead-up during their meetings had given her the boost she needed to tell him of all her sins.

There were a lot of longing gazes from Y/n’s end and Harry would give her soft touches and sly grins. Harry would allow himself to work his eyes down over her face and to her neck as she spoke, purposely letting her see how he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He’d rub her shoulders and speak quietly into her ear even though it was just the two of them in the living area of his parsonage. He admitted to her how he would sometimes wake from dreams of feeling lust and the need to repent himself. He brought up his flog even to see her reaction and react she did.

When he described to her how some mornings he’d wake from a sexual dream he’d flog himself to calm his nerves and he watched as her breathing picked up. She watched his lips as he spoke and he’d often catch her drifting her gaze downward towards his lap. He knew she wanted more from him but she’d never attempt it with the holy priest. Which was precisely what he hoped. He needed her to first see him as a leader and a holy man. He’d soon reveal his other persona when the time was right. If it was ever right.

So, on the day that she finally broke down and told him all of her sins it was like a weight was lifted from her. She paused between breaths and composed herself as she spoke but she got everything out and Harry couldn’t have been more enamored. She was perfect.

“I was accused of seducing that man, Tom, and then his excuse for tying me there was to stop me from tempting him while he went to get help. Which is ridiculous because look at me, I’m no match for any grown man. He didn’t need help,” she sighed and laughed in a scoff, “You see, he’d left me there so he could go run an errand. We had a thing where he’d tie me up and leave me after punishment, like spanking me and smacking me, and well, anyway… I like that sort of thing. I like being punished and worse really. It’s embarrassing when I’m speaking to you like this but I feel good to be able to say it out loud.”

She continued and Harry watched her as he took his forefinger and lightly rubbed it over his lips, up and down. He purposely gazed at her and allowed his features to soften over her face and she noticed the way he was looking at her. She would pause frequently when she took note of the look of hunger on his face but would shake her head as if to tell herself to snap out of it.

“He told everyone that I’d beat myself. My bottom, my back, thighs, everything. But he did it. No one believed me. It’s crazy that he tied me to his bed while I was naked with large handprints all over my body and a tie over my eyes so I couldn’t see and yet, people thought he not only didn’t put his hands on me but that he tied me to the bed with my legs spread apart with his sperm literally dripping from me in order to go get help,” her laugh was unamused. “They all believed him. They thought I beat myself and stripped nude and masturbated in his bed and that he had to tie me down with my legs open and put something on my eyes as a way to restrain me.”

But she didn’t stop her confession, “And I’ve done that before with others too. I like it. Being captive, being punished. I don’t know why I like it; I just do. Makes me feel so vulnerable and needed. Like I’m so wanted that they keep me tied down so I can’t leave. I know I shouldn’t like that or want something like that. It’s awful. It probably sounds like I’m completely deranged. I guess I am a little. But I do feel better after talking with you this past week. You’ve helped me a lot Father, and I’m glad I met you.”

Harry was willing away his erection. He’d abstained from having sex since he’d started these little sessions with Y/n. Not from masturbating, but from sex with others. And he was feeling excited at her full confession. She could be just what he needed. He could be just what she needed.

“Thank you for being so honest and open with me, Y/n. This is a step in the right direction. What we say to one another here will remain between just us. Won’t it?” Harry lifted his brows as he moved her hair from off her shoulder to behind her ear. She stiffened at his touch and her mouth parted for a moment before she nodded at the priest.

“Good. We are all sinners, dear. There’s not one of us better than the other,” Harry kept his voice low as he spoke.

Y/n smiled and spoke, “Well, except you, Father. You’re a holy man and better than anyone I’ve ever met. I can just feel it all around. You exude love and compassion. You listen so closely to everyone and you remember everything about them. You’re such a good soul with a wonderful heart. I can only hope to be like you one day.”

Harry nodded with a grin, “You are like me already, Y/n. You don’t know everything about me. I’m a human man. I am still a sinner and that’s what makes me so compassionate toward others. Because we are all in this world struggling to do what is right. Some of us have a worse time with sin than others. Sometimes you might be surprised at what kinds of sin a priest might have hidden.” Harry watched her face closely. Her gaze on him still indicated longing and need. She was very attracted to him, and Harry knew it. He could have probably taken her then to his bedroom and done very awful and wonderful things to her and made her his at last. But he refrained. He had to follow his plan accordingly. She was so close to being a perfect fit for him. He just needed to be sure she was the one.

The day of the following meeting was chilly and windy and cold. A winter storm seemed to be coming in and Harry had considered telling Y/n to stay home but before he had the chance to call the Sotheby’s she was already at his door, bundled up in her winter coat with a scarf around her neck and a wool cap on her head. Her nose was red and she wasn’t wearing gloves. Harry pulled her in and the wind from outside wafted into his warm parsonage. Harry hadn’t prepared for her quite yet, as it was about an hour before she was due to arrive. He had a few things strewn about, nothing crazy but he always liked to tidy before he had guests.

He closed the door behind her and stood in front of her to begin unwrapping her scarf from her neck in silence. She looked up at him with her big, sweet eyes and Harry looked down at her while he pulled the scarf off, a grin on his face. She just stood and smiled back up at him as he undid her coat, and pulled it off her shoulders, hanging it by the door on the coat hook. She stayed quiet watching him. He found it a little odd but he didn’t mind the new interaction. It’s how he’d want to treat her if she were his. He’d help her undress and take care of her. She liked it too he could tell.

Harry looked down to see she hadn’t worn gloves so he took her hands into his and rubbed over them before putting his mouth to his hands cupped around hers and blew warm air over her fingers. She sighed and smiled up at him. That smile was going to kill him. He repeated blowing warm air over her hands a few times until his lips met her fingertips and he pressed the tiniest kiss to the pads of the fingers under his mouth then he laughed a breath through his nose and plucked the wool cap from her head, “There you go. Feel better? Want me to make you some tea?”

Harry saw it written all over her face. She didn’t want tea, or anything to drink. She didn’t want him to be nice to her. She wanted something she was too scared to ask for but she smiled and nodded because of her naturally submissive manner, “Yeah. Hot tea could be nice, Father.”

Harry smirked down at the lovely girl and smoothed her hair a bit. It had gotten staticky from the way he’d pulled the cap from her head. She laughed shyly when she realized what he was doing and then she followed him to his kitchen.

When they passed into the kitchen Harry realized he hadn’t closed the door to his bedroom since he hadn’t been prepared for her yet. There wasn’t anything too revealing lying out, except his flog at the end of the bed, but he wasn’t sure if she’d seen it or not.

He made tea and they sat in the little kitchen together and made small talk.

“You arrived early. I hadn’t expected you to come yet,” Harry said as he looked down at his mug and then back up at the beautiful young woman.

Y/n nodded, “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to miss the chance of coming by for a bit. The weather channel made it seem like the storm would be very bad and I wondered if I waited too long I might not have been able to come here at all. Sorry.”

Harry reached a hand out to place over Y/n’s and tsk’d at her, “Don’t be sorry, dear. I’m happy you came. I was going to call you and cancel because it does look like a bad one coming. It’s already started to snow,” he looked over her shoulder and out the window where white snow was blowing wild in the air with the wind.

One tea turned into two and then Y/n asked Harry if they could pray together, “I’m feeling very particular today. It’s a hard day for me. I’ve been trying to keep my thoughts on God and do what I know is right but I can’t seem to get it straight in my mind. My sinful thoughts are very strong today.”

“That’s good that you told me. We all have hard days. It’s better to be honest about everything than it is to hide it. Hiding it only makes the longing worse,” Harry wanted to stop the façade himself. His longing was getting worse as well. And now that she was here with him alone, the ominous storm approaching, and his neglected cock that he hadn’t had a chance to take care of before she arrived (another thing he hadn’t gotten to due to her early arrival, something he always took care of before she came), he wanted to take care of both of their needs, their longings.

“Is it a hard day for you, Father? I saw the flog on your bed when we passed your room. You told me before how you use it to atone for your sinful thoughts,” she bit her lip after asking and looked at him with round eyes.

Harry nodded with a smile, “You saw that then. Yes. Today is a hard day. And every day before this one as well,” was all he gave her.

Harry took her hands in his and they prayed, bowing their heads over the small table. And like every other time they held hands in prayer, they gently touched and squeezed at the other, a silent bid for something more that had gone unspoken. But it was never quite enough for Y/n to believe it meant more than just a man being kind and loving.

When they released their hands Y/n felt lighter again. She loved it when Harry prayed. It was like he helped wipe her sins away with his words and encouragement. But she wondered if there was more that could be done.

“Father Harry?” She asked with his eyes already on hers. He nodded at her to continue, “Yes?”

She swallowed and looked out of the kitchen toward where his bedroom was, “What is it like to be whipped with the flog? Do you feel atoned when you’re done? Does it feel like the pain takes away your sins?”

Harry’s heartbeat was rapid. There was a definite shift in the way Y/n was today than she had been at any of the other meetings. It was very subtle but she was different today. Needy.

Harry clenched his jaw and looked over his shoulder toward his room and then back to Y/n, “Sometimes it does feel like it helps me repent. But other times it's part of the sin.”

Y/n was silent as she took his words in. She cocked her head to the side and squished her brows together in confusion, “Part of the sin? What does that mean?”

Harry took a deep breath and reached a hand out to take one of Y/n’s in his. He looked down at her hand with a faint smile on his face before looking back into her pretty eyes, “It means sometimes it has nothing to do with atonement or being repentant. Sometimes I enjoy the pain.”

Y/n watched as Harry grazed his thumb over her knuckles and spoke without looking back into Harry’s eyes, “Would you… maybe flog me? Show me what it feels like? Maybe it can help me feel better about my sinful nature.”

Harry looked out the window and he couldn’t see beyond the white flurries. The wind was harsh and he could hear the whistle of the gale as it forced its way into the cracks of the glass panes. He put his eyes back on Y/n and she was still looking down at where her hand was in his.

“That would require you to remove some clothes. I don’t know that you’d feel comfortable with that in front of me,” Harry was getting heated. He was imagining the way the whip would bite into her skin. Not too hard, but just enough that she could really feel it and it would leave a mark. Or two. Or three.

Y/n shot her eyes up to Harry’s and nodded, “I would be okay with that. Would you? 

Harry smiled, wider than he intended. This was exactly what he wanted. This was a step toward what he’d felt was necessary for his plan. She was asking him.

Her pupils were blown out in her eyes already, and her mouth parted. She wanted to be flogged but not to atone for her sins. She liked it and he knew she would. She also understood the probable implications of her request after she’d already admitted to him how much she enjoyed a bit of pain, spankings, and punishment. But she couldn’t help herself. And she could play it off as if she only meant to use it as a way to repent if he declined or called her out.

But Harry wouldn’t call her out. He would go along with her in this as long as she wanted. They could both easily play it off, yet they both would understand what was actually going on. It would be a way to ease into what was coming. Harry was quite pleased.

“Okay, my dear. If that is what you want. We’ll go to my room. I have a set up for you to hold onto while I flog your back for repentance.”

Y/n hadn’t expected Harry’s room to be livelier than the rest of the house. His bedroom revealed more of his personality than the rest of the parsonage did. The set-up Harry referred to was a bar hung from the ceiling with cuffs at each end. There was art hung on the walls, a bookshelf stuffed with books, a dresser with jars atop, and a lamp. His bed was large and looked comfortable. And of course, in the corner of the room was a large item covered with a sheet that went nearly to the ceiling and was probably eight feet wide and eight feet long.

“What is that, Father?” Y/n pointed toward the covered item in the corner and walked toward it.

Harry stopped her midway, “That’s just something I use for a hobby of mine. Let’s get to it shall we?” He redirected her away from the cage that had gone unused for longer than Harry liked.

Harry took the flog in his hand and turned to Y/n, “You’ll need to take your sweater and anything underneath off for this. You can face away from me so I don’t see anything if you’re more comfortable with that. And you can decide if you want your hands in the cuffs to restrain you, or if you’d just like to hold onto them. While you remove your sweater, I’m going to clean this,” and he left the room to sanitize the flog. He had used it on himself only that morning and even though he didn’t cut himself deep enough to bleed, he still found it necessary to clean before using it on Y/n.

Harry took his time to get into the smooth leather and wipe all around the parts with warm soapy water. Then he used alcohol wipes over the flog to finish it off. And before he entered the room he took a moment to breathe and calm himself. He was half hard in his pants with the images that ran through his brain. When he felt somewhat settled he returned to the room to see Y/n with her hand over her breasts facing him.

Harry couldn’t help himself from trailing his eyes down her frame and over her skin and to the swell of her soft breasts which she’d hidden only partly from his view. When he looked back at her face he realized she looked happy and excited even. He swallowed heavily as he walked toward her.

“Wrists in the cuffs or just holding onto them?” He asked her as he put the flog down on his bed.

“I’d like them inside the cuffs. Please,” she smiled and Harry nodded. He had a feeling she’d want to be properly restrained.

Harry closed his eyes at the, please. He was going to have to restrain himself from ravishing her. Because he knew she wanted that. He knew she’d beg him and want whatever he gave her. He swallowed again before walking toward her where she stood near the bar.

“I won’t look, but I have to assist you in putting your wrists in here. Lift up.”

Y/n removed her palms from over her breasts and raised them toward the bar. Harry concentrated on not looking down as he secured her wrists in place. Self-control was something he was not rivaled in. As much as he desired to look down over her skin and peek at her nipples and soft breasts his will to control himself was stronger. He had a presence to maintain.

“Father, why do you have this in your bedroom if you are unable to use it without assistance?” Y/n’s voice was small and cautious. She didn’t want to overstep any boundaries but she was too curious to not ask. Harry knew she would.

Harry smirked and looked at her in the eyes, doing well to not drop his gaze to her tits, “For just this very purpose, Y/n. Sometimes others request a flogging too. I help them.”

Both of Y/n’s wrists were secured in the cuffs after Harry’s careful adjustments of the Velcro. She was bare on the top, wearing only jeans on her bottom half. Harry slowly walked behind Y/n and picked up the flog from his bed. The flog he used was black and thin with a single leather strip, knotted at the end. The handle was braided leather, perfect for gripping onto.

Her back was smooth and clear. So pretty, it was almost a shame that she wanted it marked up. Almost. Harry gulped down his saliva and before he could begin he stepped in close to Y/n and stood behind her, craning his neck down to speak near to her ear.

“This will hurt a bit. I won’t break the skin but it’s going to bruise and feel very tender. Tell me to stop if it’s too much for you,” he could smell her shampoo from this proximity. She turned her head to the side towards his face and nodded. He could tell her breathing had deepened. He gently swept her hair from her back and pushed it over her shoulder to the front so that her back was unobstructed. He kept close to her, looking down at her neck as he did so, his fingers ghosting over her neck.

Harry stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, “Speak with me a prayer of forgiveness, Y/n,” he closed his eyes and waited a moment before beginning, “Lord God, please look at my sins and mistakes with a merciful eye and forgive me.”

Y/n repeated the words and Harry landed the flog onto her back for the first time, a strike that caused her to inhale a sharp gasp and squeeze her eyes closed. It shocked her system and her body jolted forward. She gasped for air as soon as the sensation dulled on her flesh and turned into a hot sting across her back.

Harry continued, “I confess to you Almighty God that I have sinned.”

Y/n spoke the words and braced herself for the next stripe to her back. It came from the opposite shoulder this time, and downward toward her spine. She grunted and fell forward, her nails digging into her palms, as she endured her second hit.

“My mortal sin is that of lust. My flesh has been weak and I have given in to temptation.”

Her words were spoken in a softer voice, but still clear and with determination. Harry smiled as he issued her another strike. Once again, Y/n was swung forward, her head dropping downward and she gasped in a small yelp, clenching her jaw when the new lash crossed the middle of her back.

Harry watched as her smooth skin turned red, a raised welt left in the path of the leather. As promised, he did not break the skin, but it was tender and it was going to be sore.

“For this sin and all sins that I have committed in my life, I am seeking repentance.”

Y/n’s voice came out shaky. Harry watched as her arms quivered as she tried holding herself up. It had only been three strikes and she was already quite fatigued; he could tell. Harry repeated raising the flog and bringing it down in a quick motion over the center of her back near her spine.

This time Y/n crossed her legs together and gasped in a breathy pitch as she put most of her weight on her arms and wobbled forward slightly. Harry couldn’t see her breasts but he knew the sight would have been glorious.

Harry wondered if it was too much. He watched her body for a moment as she regained her composure, “Y/n, are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

She was quick to shake her head, “No, Father. Let’s finish the prayer. Please. I need it.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. There it was again, the, please. He enjoyed this. He imagined how it felt on her skin, he knew the sting and burn well. He could almost taste it in his mouth, the pain of the lashings. And it was a good taste. He bit down and clenched his jaw in satisfaction with the moment.

“Count these stripes as my penance, oh Lord God, you who are all good and deserving of my love and devotion.”

It took a moment for Y/n to repeat the words but when she did Harry realized it then. It was in her breathy voice, the way her back was arched and ready for the next hit, and how she crossed her legs with the last lashing, still squeezed together, thighs clenched.

With a smile, Harry brought the leather down onto her flesh again and to his delight, the sound that left Y/n’s mouth was a moan. A sound typically dedicated to the result of something pleasurable happening.

“I resolve with the help of your grace to keep my eyes on you, Holy Father. Amen.”

Harry listened to the way Y/n spoke her words in a slow breathy voice. Her neck was draped downward and her arm muscles were straining against her weight. She was enjoying this. Perhaps in the same way Harry did.

The sixth and final lash on her back drew a louder moan out of her mouth. After she shifted forward she lulled her head to the side and Harry could see her mouth was open. Her breaths were labored, heavy.

Harry put the flog down and stood behind Y/n, gently placing his hands on the back of her ribs, “Y/n, no more lashings. Now listen to my words of forgiveness and then you’ll say for his mercy endures forever.”

She nodded and hummed and pushed herself up to stand fully on her feet. Harry kept his hands lightly on her back and looked down at her neck, as he spoke his absolution in a voice barely above a whisper, “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good.”

“For his mercy endures forever,” her voice was surer now, still breathy but less shaky.

Harry was tempted to dip his mouth down onto the curve of her neck and press his lips on the small freckle that he saw under her jaw. She still had her neck bared to him, her head hung to the side and Harry wondered if she was doing it on purpose, exposing her neck to him. Offering herself to him in a way. He would need her to verbalize it if so.

Harry leaned down, his hands ghosting down her sides as he put his face closer to her neck but he didn’t allow his lips to touch her skin, “You did very good, Y/n. I’m going to release you now.”

Harry removed each wrist and stayed in his spot behind her. He remained close and Y/n made no attempt to move from her spot. She turned her head to the side and Harry could see her profile, blinking, a smile on her face. If she turned further she’d be able to see his face but there was the chance that her breasts would be in view.

“Thank you, Father,” Y/n spoke in a soft whisper as she lifted her hands to cover her breasts and turned her head to look at him from over her shoulder.

Harry didn’t move from his spot as he looked over her face slowly. He didn’t let his gaze drop below her shoulders. She wasn’t his to ogle. Not yet anyway. But he could recognize that she was beautiful. And perfect.

“Stay right here. I’m going to get something for your back,” Harry was quick to get what was needed for Y/n’s welts. A warm, damp cloth and some ointment.

When he came back into the room, Y/n was still standing exactly where he left her, “Lie down on the bed on your stomach and I’ll help you with this.”

Harry approached her as she arranged herself on his bed, tummy down. Harry was already anticipating the moment he could rinse her back and then rub the cream over her. He’d touched her gently while she was restrained, but now he would be permitted to put his hand into complete contact with her skin, to really touch her and take care of her wounds.

Y/n put her arms upward, elbows bent, and her face to the side so her cheek was down and she could see Harry behind her from the peripheral. He kneeled on the bed next to her and gently placed the warm rag over her back to soothe the burn, “Are you okay? How do you feel, Y/n?”

Y/n took a deep breath and closed her eyes when Harry began to blot the damp rag down her back, “I feel very good, Father,” her voice was still breathy and soft.

Harry hummed in response with a nod to himself as he continued gently dabbing the rage over her back. When it was time to put the ointment over her he rubbed it into his palms to warm it, as he noticed she had goosebumps over her flesh.

His wide palms slowly caressed her back and smoothed the cream over her sores. He watched as Y/n bit her lip, her eyes still closed. Harry smiled. He used both hands to knead gently down her spine and apply the ointment. It took longer than it should have but Harry enjoyed the way her skin felt under his hands. She was soft and open for him. So willing and sweet.

“You did very well, Y/n. I think this looks good,” he spoke with his palms still flat on her low back, “I’ll leave you to put your sweater on, I can tell you’re cold.”

Harry stood from the bed with the rag and the jar of cream when Y/n pushed herself up and turned her head, “Wait, Father. I need to confess one more thing.”

Harry stopped his motions and turned to see her. Her top half was still hidden, breasts down into the comforter below her. He ticked his chin downward to indicate for her to continue.

“I… really liked that. More than I should. I feel bad because it didn’t mean to me what it was meant to mean. It’s my sin. I can’t control it. I’m sorry, Father,” she looked down at her forearm that was holding her up and Harry could see how red and bitten her lips looked. The delicate thing. She was a lot like him. The flogging was both a penance and a guilty pleasure.

“I understand. I sometimes see it the same way, Y/n. Your pain still acts as penance. Even if you somehow enjoy it. We can talk about this when you’ve dressed. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, though,” Harry turned and left the room. He was nearly quivering at what had just happened. He was keyed up from not only flogging the beautiful young woman but all of her admissions to him about what she liked and what she felt was her sin. The girl couldn’t be more perfect for him.

Harry put on another pot of tea and took note of the storm outside. The snow had piled against the parsonage and the wind bellowed outside. It would be too dangerous for her to walk or be driven back to the Sotheby’s in this weather. A fact that he quietly delighted in.

Y/n stepped into the kitchen behind Harry and leaned against the counter to watch him with the tea setup. The two did not speak for a few moments, both lost in their own minds about the reality they were suddenly in. Y/n having been honest with the priest about her sins and the priest reeling over the similarities of their preferences.

Harry turned to look at the pretty girl standing next to him, “You will likely need to stay until the storm subsides,” he looked past Y/n out the window that was on the opposite wall, “perhaps even all night.”

She turned to look out the window and Harry saw a smile crawl onto her face. His own expression was similar, pleased, expectant.

They took tea in his living room and the only sounds that could be heard were the gale winds outside. Y/n looked at Harry, her eyes wide and curious. When Harry looked up at her after a sip of his hot tea he felt he could understand her without a word being spoken.

“Tell me what your thoughts are, Y/n,” he set the teacup down and leaned back into the couch, his hands in his lap.

Y/n breathed out a small laugh and looked down at her lap. She was on the same couch as Harry but separated by a cushion between them.

With her head down she began to speak, “I feel very happy with you, safe. I don’t feel judged or looked down upon,” she lifted her head to look up at the man, his light green eyes taking her in, listening intently as always.

Harry nodded and stayed silent. He wanted her to continue.

Y/n swallowed and fiddled with her fingers, “Thank you for that, Father,” she leaned forward and took a sip of her tea, before leaning back into the couch and cupping the mug into her hands to keep them warm.

She continued, “I’m sure you cannot relate to having lustful thoughts in your heart like me. But I do wonder, what are your sinful thoughts that you feel are so hard that you flog yourself to repent? You said today was a hard day for you.”

Harry let the side of his mouth quirk up in a smile as he looked down. She was a curious girl.

“I’m a man, Y/n. I have lustful thoughts in my heart as most humans do. God has created us to procreate and he made sex feel very good,” Harry was sure to emphasize the words feel very good, “for a reason. It’s in the worst of people and the holiest of us.”

There was a moment of quiet when the wind changed direction and Harry watched Y/n move on her cushion as she tucked a foot under her bottom and turned toward him, “What was hard for you today, Father? The sin you had to atone for.”

Harry’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and he took a breath, “Lust.”

Harry’s eyes were severe on Y/n’s and he watched her lips part softly and her eyes soften, “Really? I imagine it must be very hard being a priest with your vows and all. Have you ever had a relationship, Father?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at the girl. Before he could respond Y/n spoke quickly, “I’m sorry! You don't have to answer. I’m sometimes too curious for my own good and you’re so interesting to me. Don’t answer if it’s too much.”

Harry chuckled and sipped his tea, slowly placing it down on the table next to the couch before putting his eyes back on the pretty girl, “I have had relationships, yes. It isn’t against the priesthood per se. Not anymore. But my own vows of celibacy and dedication to God, it is against them. And yes. It’s very hard being a priest and feeling lust.”

“Celibacy. So… you’ve never…” Y/n closed her mouth and looked down at the floor for a moment. “That makes me feel very ashamed of what I’ve done and how I feel lately. I feel like I have not been honest with you, but now knowing this about you makes me feel even worse for the things I’ve imagined,” she looked down at her lap and shook her head.

Harry reached a hand out to cover hers, “Do not feel ashamed. I would not look at you differently no matter your confession to me because I’m a sinner just the same. And I haven’t followed my vows. I love God and I love being a priest, but I love other things as well. Those things are between me and God. He is my judge and he knows my heart.”

Harry knew Y/n wasn’t dumb. He knew he’d told her enough that she could piece things together on her own. And her expression revealed to him just as much. She nodded with a small smile at his words and looked down at his hand covering her.

Keeping her eyes on Harry’s, Y/n slowly brought her free hand down to Harry’s and then lifted his hand upward. She leaned down to press her lips to his knuckles and slowly kissed each one. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched her kiss his hand. Her soft lips on each of his knuckles were innocent but the way she looked up into his eyes as she did so was not.

Harry breathed out heavily at the contact and let her continue. She manipulated his hand so that his palm was facing upward and she kissed the center of his hand and up to his fingers. She placed small pecks to the pads of each finger and kept her eyes on his. The intimate gesture was more than just a kind act of reverence.

With his hand held in both of hers, she kept her lips over his fingers as she spoke to him, “I love your hands, Father,” she closed her eyes and continued kissing along his fingertips. Harry watched her in awe.

She kept her eyes closed and spoke again, “I dreamt of you last night, and it was the best dream,” her voice was a whisper, “it was sinful, dirty, and I didn’t want to wake from it. But I liked it,” she continued kissing his fingers. When her tongue gently swiped over the pad of his thumb Harry inhaled a sharp breath and then lifted his free hand and carded his fingers through her hair gently.

The moment she felt Harry’s hand in her hair she opened her eyes again to look at the priest and very cautiously, slowly kissed the tip of his thumb before parting her lips and sucking just the very tip into her mouth. When she saw that Harry was not opposed to this action, she took more of his thumb into her mouth, their eyes locked. Harry tilted his head and watched her, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his mouth dropped open, nostrils flaring.

Harry had no expectations of her doing anything like this, but he wasn’t too particularly surprised. He knew she had at least a small crush on him, he hoped it was more than just a small crush and he was not disappointed in the way she was responding to him.

“You’re a good girl, Y/n. We cannot help the way God has made us,” Harry’s voice came out a bit cinched and breathy. He was enjoying this display very much.

Y/n kept her eyes on Harry’s as she took his pointer finger into her mouth and did the same as she had with his thumb. Her mouth was warm and soft over Harry’s digits. This was clearly a sexual gesture and Harry would not stop her from continuing. He kept his eyes on hers and watched the lustful show of Y/n lips wrapped around his finger.

When she removed her mouth from his finger she spoke, “Can I… Please, Father, can I,” she got out of her seat, making Harry remove his hand from her hair, and she dropped onto her knees. Putting her hands on the priest’s knees she looked up at him from her kneeling position, “Father, I’ll do whatever you want. I just, please, let me revere you and you can do whatever you please to me. We can go to God together for our penance, to atone. Just let it be with me that you sin. I’ll take it on, a sacrifice to your goodness, Father. I’m not worthy of you, but I’m begging you to pity me, let me take your sins and your punishment. I’ll do it happily if you let me serve you.”

The moment suddenly changed with her vocalization of what she wanted. Harry grasped her chin and shook his head with a soft expression, “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking me, Y/n. I’m being very serious right now. That’s what you want? Do you know what it means to do what you say? I need to know what you think that means.”

Y/n let out the tiniest whimper at the feel of his hands on her jaw holding her face to look at him, “I… I want to give myself completely to you, I need it. Want it. So badly. But only if you are pleased with me. Only if you want me. But only me.”

Harry wasn’t sure she understood what she was asking. Typically when he took someone as his submissive there was an agreement in place already. He would seek out someone who was previously looking for that kind of arrangement. He felt it was in his best interest, and hers, to be upfront with her.

“I do things most priests would be appalled by, Y/n. My sexual appetite is something I keep very private and separate from my job. I have been searching for someone to keep. Someone who wants to be mine. Someone who will submit and comply at all times to me. A person who would be a willing companion for me. Submissive to me. To allow me to dominate,” Harry paused to monitor her expression. She nodded subtly her eyes still on his.

“Yes. It’s exactly what I want, Father. Anything you want is everything I want,” she spoke in a small voice and Harry smiled. Her answer was good. It was just what he was looking for.

Y/n grasped Harry’s forearm that held her jaw and pulled his hand upward to her mouth again. With her eyes on his and her knees still on the floor at his feet, she spoke in a whisper, “Please, Father,” as he sucked his middle finger into her mouth, her tongue flicking over the underside of his finger.

Harry had had enough. He dragged her upward to his lap where she climbed over him, her thighs straddling his. He pulled her into his body and pressed his mouth over hers once and for all. A kiss that had them moaning and desperate. Her lips on his felt soft and wanton. She trembled in his arms and on his lap as he licked over her tongue. He smoothed his hand up under her sweater and onto her back softly and she winced at the feel from the welts. He ghosted his hands over the raised skin and then lowered his mouth to her jaw and then down to her neck on the little freckle he’d seen earlier. He licked the spot and then sucked the tiniest bruise under her jaw and her gasp told him she enjoyed it.

Harry lowered his mouth down her neck and softly bit at the skin, then he stood up, holding onto her thighs, and walked her to his bedroom in haste where he placed her on his large, soft bed.

“Take the sweater off,” Harry commanded and watched her peel the fabric off of her body. She then moved to take her bra off and the moment her breasts were bare before him Harry groaned and crawled onto the bed next to her, pressing her down flat.

Harry latched his mouth to her breasts and slowly licked over the exposed skin, biting in tiny nips as he kissed down to underneath the flesh of her round tits. Y/n sucked in sharp breaths at the pinch of the bites he gave her and rubbed her thighs together when she moved her hand into his hair.

Harry moved his warm mouth down her body slowly, with generous use of his tongue.

Harry pushed himself up and placed his hands on both sides of her body, caging her ribs, “Roll over. Let me kiss your wounds.”

Y/n bit her lip and moved to her stomach and Harry’s soft touch on her back was followed by his wet lips kissing over the pink and raised skin from the flogging. He applied open-mouthed kisses down the length of each red stripe on her back and he noted how she wiggled her bum and rocked her hips. He smirked as he continued kissing over her shoulder blade, his hand gently caressing her sides.

When he’d finished on her back he sat up and held onto the back of her neck, keeping her head down. Her face was turned, cheek smushed into the comforter.

“You’ll be mine to dominate as long as you want to be my submissive pet. But only if you give me your full consent because I need you to enjoy this with me. I’ve been looking for a long time, Y/n,” Harry spoke softly and lowered his mouth to kiss at her shoulder before continuing, his hot breath falling over her skin as he whispered his words, “You’ll submit to me in every way, taking my punishments, and allow me to have you sexually, emotionally, and spiritually. How does that sound?” He continued a path of kisses over her shoulder and back as he waited for her to speak, his hand still at the back of her neck.

Y/n nodded with her lip quivering, “Yes. Please. I only expect to be taken care of, to be loved, and in return, I’ll take care of you in any way you like. It’s all I’ve wanted. To belong to someone. To give myself completely to someone that cherishes me. And I truly want to belong to you, Father. But only me. No one else.”

Harry sat up and pulled Y/n gently upward by her neck to face him. He could see tears in her eyes. She was getting emotional.

Harry let go of her neck and brought a hand up to wipe at the tear that had fallen under her eye with his thumb, “There, there, darling. You’re already so perfect for me. Beautiful and sweet. I don’t want anyone but you. You and I will be very compatible,” Harry kept his hand on her face, softly swiping his thumb over her cheek. Y/n closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She was perfect.

“I just want to be yours, Father,” she said softly, her eyes still closed.

Harry softly pressed his mouth to the edge of hers and then kissed where her tears had fallen, “Then you shall be mine now.”

Part 2*

I know this one doesn’t have smut - but prepare yourself for part 2 - it’s dirty and sexy.

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[robinsdearest]

Three Steps Back (Part 2)

Jason Todd x Reader | Dick Grayson x Reader

Part 1

It had been six weeks since the alley incident. Six weeks since Jason returned to your world. He had reappeared in your memory where you were still lost from his. Your encounter had essentially ruined most of Jason’s progress. More than just a few steps back. 

He lost his older brother: Dick declined Jason’s calls, he refused to join the rest of the family in stakeouts or takedowns, and he has not been seen at Wayne Manor since.  Jason wasn’t positive Dick was avoiding him specifically until the devil spawn approached him after a night on patrol. Damian said Dick wanted space, but Jason didn’t think he had meant the whole damn galaxy. He just wanted answers. He wanted to speak to someone that could provide information, but he refused to speak to you. 

You had flooded his thoughts after that fateful night. His dreams were filled with the photos from his phone, now turned to moving pictures- they felt like out of body experiences, Jason now watching you and circus boy in his place. A third wheel, unwanted and forgotten. Is that how you had felt?

Maybe this was for the best. After all, Jason seemed to remember everything else. Or so he thought. 

Jason tried to go back to the small basics to see if you truly were the only missing piece. He walked his old neighborhood to find the alley where he first took the Batmobile wheels. He instantly knew the route to his favorite cheeseburger diner. He followed the path that led to Dick’s old apartment- the fire escape still creaked on the third step. Jason even borrowed Tim’s bicycle to make sure he at least remembered the simple mechanics. It took him a whole week to go through different parts of memory lane. 

Jason’s head hit the pillow back at his apartment. It’s been an exhausting time- he hasn’t taken any mercenary jobs since meeting you again. It was early in the morning after a particular long patrol night. He just needed a clear head. Jason’s memory held true for even the smallest things. But you were no small thing.  His mind crawls to the saying from one of those cheesy romance movies Stephanie made him watch with her last week.  “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Yeah, what a piece of shit. Jason feels sick. 

The phone ringing brought Jason to his senses. He answers with a grunt.

“I want to talk.”

Jason shoots upward from his position, sitting tall. 

“Dick?” Silence must mean compliance. “Sure. Name the time and place.” 

The older man speaks softly away from the phone. Jason can’t make out what was said, but assumes it was with a third person for confirmation. 

“B’s cave. Tonight.” 

And before Jason could ask for more specifics, the line drops. It’s two more steps forward at least. 

With no direct scheduled meeting, Jason arrives to the cave late in the evening. Nerves ultimately kept him home, even if the vigilante convinced himself otherwise.  Tim and Dick are standing by the weapons vault, Dick smiling at something Tim had said to him. The smile fades quickly when he hears Jason. 

“What’s this “oui” bit, French man?” Jason attempts his own joke to ease the tension. “I thought you said it was just you.” 

To Jason’s delight, Tim snickers in response. Dick’s frown tightens. There’s a vein on his neck that could pop at any moment.  

“Timmy’s here for mediation.” Dick nods in the aforementioned kid’s direction. “I don’t have much to say to you in all actuality.” 

It’s Jason’s turn for a vein to pop. “Then why the hell did you call me all the way out to the manor? I’ve got cases to follow.” Lies to cover his own turmoil. 

Dick puffs air through his nose. He can probably see through the lies. “Whatever.” Dick finally turns to face Jason, scowling at his brother. Jason gulps, not expecting the intensity of his gaze. “I want you to know that nothing you say will change their mind. They’ve had a lot of time to think, and I’ve been chosen.” The last word has more venom than anyone would care to admit. It’s said with malice: a choice was made. The ferocity of his voice surprises even Dick. He swears under his breath, putting a hand on the back of his neck. He apologizes quietly.  

“They just want to clear the air. Get closure.” Jason finally registers that circus boy is speaking about you. A twinge of pain has Jason desperately searching for words, but all he can do is nod. 

Dick takes Jason’s response in stride, gliding right past him. From somewhere behind him, Jason can hear Dick lower his voice.  Tim turns to follow Dick, motioning Jason to follow. As Jason turns, his breath is stolen from his lungs. 

You’re sitting at one of the data tables. Your leather jacket is thrown across the back of your chair, and your cheeks are tinted pink- from crying, Jason can finally tell. You’re even more breathtaking than the night he first saw you.  He sits in the chair next to you, there is still a safe distance between your bodies. Jason wants to give you the room to run if you wanted, but he can’t help but need to be close. He wants nothing more than to remember everything. Remember you. 

Dick and Tim both leave the cave for now. Dick is calm as he gives you one last glance before the door shuts; the exes are left alone for the first time. 

You’re refusing to look at him. He cranes his neck to meet your lowered eyes and whispers your name, an easy tenderness rolling off his tongue. 

“It really is you.” Your lip begins to tremble. Jason doesn’t initially understand the feeling in his rib cage. “I was in denial for so long.” Your hands shake with your voice. “I mourned you.” A tear finally falls, and Jason can’t breathe. Guilt. Inconsolable guilt. 

“If it’s any consolation, it’s not exactly what I wanted.” Jason mentally kicks himself. This is not a good time for humor to fill the void of uneasiness. You scoff, causing Jason to flinch. 

“No. Nobody wanted it.” Your tears are flowing faster now. Jason can’t help but feel empathetic. He doesn’t know you, but he feels for you. He hasn’t felt anything for a long time. 

You’re still refusing to look at him directly. You use your T-shirt sleeve to wipe your nose. Adorable, but gross. His eyes refuse to leave your face, searching for anything to help him remember more. 

“You were itchy.” Your sudden confession causes Jason to choke on his spit. He coughs a few times. 

He speaks when he finds his tongue. “Hold on. Itchy?”

Your teary laugh bubbles through him- he can’t help but smile. 

“People say everyone has an itch they can never scratch just right.” You look up at Jason through wet eyelashes. A deep breath in. “You and me.” A deep breath out. “We scratched all our itches. We joked about it all the time actually. How we thought we were perfect for each other. Everything you did for me was just so perfect, even when we were that young. We melded. We scratched each other’s itches, made everything feel just right. Itchy.” 

The way the last word rolls off your tongue burns Jason’s heart. It was said with such familiarity, so many memories embedded in just a single word, an unfleeting feeling. 

“Do you really not remember anything about me?” Your eyes are shining, boring a hole through Jason’s heart. He can’t lie to you.

“I see glimpses.” You nod, letting him continue. “Dreams of possible memories. I don’t know if they’re real.” You wipe your nose again. He stumbles on his next words. “I wa- I want.” Breathe, for crying out loud. “I want them to be real.” A confession of his own that Jason didn’t know he needed to say. He mindlessly thinks he’s going crazy.

You were left with everything when Jason was killed. Jason was left with nothing. You were forgotten from Jason’s memory and from his heart. Jason continued to leave scratches in your life, now turned to painful scars. 

Your thumbs are kneading into your palm. A nervous tick that has Jason’s own hand flexing in response. The action reaches a part of Jason’s mind he didn’t know existed. Is this remembering? It almost surprises him how badly he wants to hold your hand. 

Almost.

Jason reaches forward, attempting to close the space between the digits. Your mouth drops only slightly as you watch his hand inch towards yours. 

A voice stops Jason’s movements, only a few centimeters away. 

Dammit. 

“5 minutes are up.” Tim was always going to keep up his end of the deal with Dick. Damn replacement.

Jason throws a look at his younger brother that the evil genius seems to ignore. Tim shuffles awkwardly on both feet as he watches you gather your things.  You reach down to grab Jason’s hand. Yours seem much different than his: small, gentle, soft. But it fits so perfectly in his own. Itchy. The breath in his throat catches when you squeeze his fingers. 

“Take care of yourself, Jay.” 

As you walk away, the smell of your perfume trickles around Jason’s nose. Almost comically beckoning him with a cartoon finger to follow you. The nickname sticks to his ears, making them ring. Maybe Jason really is going crazy. 

Tim nods in your direction after you place a hand on his shoulder with a simple thanks. The two men watch you exit the cave, eventually out of sight but never out of mind. 

Tim whistles a small tune after a beat of silence. 

“Dick suggests you forget about it. Everything. The photos. Everything about the two of them, the two of you. Move on; move forward.” 

Jason knocks the table a few times in contemplation, giving an apathetic hum. If he is going crazy, Jason will need help.

“And what do you suggest, Timmers?”

Jason rolls his eyes when he’s met with silence. Tim whistles a long, low trill, almost as if he’s giving himself time to think. Jason dares to look towards him, yet the younger man is doing nothing but grinning ear to ear. 

“You’ve never been too keen on following direct orders.” 

[thousand-winters]

Hunter’s relationship with authority and safety

Have you noticed how Hunter's default is looking for the nearest authority figure when he's uncertain or, really, just in general need of guidance?

Of course this has to do with how he was raised, he has a military upbringing after all, and even if it's not... ideal a lot of the time (mostly because the authority figures around him usually suck), I think it works as his safety blanket.

I mean, it's not even like he doesn't realize he has a particular relationship with authority himself:

“Teens are probably into the same things as me..”

... Oh, baby. You’re certainly doing your best, at the very least. 

In any case, I think it's interesting how this caracteristic of his shows in different situations and with different people.

1. Belos

I doubt I even need to say anything to get my point on this one, but for the sake of being demonstrative, I’m still going to.

Hunter was very loyal to the Emperor's Coven in general, but his biggest connection inside of it was obviously Belos. Not only because he's the emperor, but because he made him believe he was his uncle.

To put it bluntly, Belos had him on a leash. Every little mistake he made was a fatal flaw in Hunter's eyes because that's what Belos led him to believe. But even if that got him hurt and punished, Hunter trusted that it was right because Belos was his uncle and cared for him, right?

He was terrified of failing the emperor and flinched often enough to assume physical harm wasn't something uncommon, so you can argue that he never actually felt safe there. But there's safety in following a path that's been laid for you. The certainty that what you're doing is what's best because someone older and wiser says it is. And like that, there's no room for doubt.

There's safety in certainty.

And for Hunter, even if his conviction started to shake through the season, it took something truly big to break the gigantic amount of trust he had in Belos.

2. Darius

Being the Head of the Emperor's Coven, Hunter technically is the superior of all the other Head Witches. And yet it's terribly obvious for everyone that, at the end of the day, he's just a child.

Now, Darius is an interesting case. Because Hunter has seem him in a potition of power for longer than he has been a Coven Head himself or because, cold as he might be towards Hunter, he doesn’t seem to be as dismissive of him as literally all the other Head Witches, Hunter seems to care a lot about his approval or, at the very least, his opinion. 

He was clearly mad at the way Darius was doubting his worth, but he still believed in his judgment. He was clearly distressed enough by it that he put aside the pride he was trying to maintain to plead him for a solution. Some guidance that would help him to become worthy.

Now, by this point, he's willing enough to break rules on his own to do what he believes is the right thing (defending the Emerald Entrails, keeping Flapjack), but I think having an adult he could trust in on his corner definitely helped him a lot as well, as someone so used to rely on what others tell him to do.

He has no obligation to still listen to Darius now that he's out of the coven, but he still does, perhaps because he has evidence that Darius can be trusted to guide him to the right path, even as unintentional as his encouragement of Hunter's rebellion was.

3. Willow

So Willow's actually the reason why I even started thinking about this. Hunter always refers to her as “captain”, no matter if he’s talking to her or about her with someone else. And it’s not like he doesn’t know her name, the second thing she did after meeting him was introducing herself and Gus. He’s comfortable enough using “Gus” when he’s not putting up a wall, like on those first seconds after being found in Labyrinth Runners where he calls him “Augustus”. And yet, no matter the circumstances, even when there’s no longer anything Flyer Derby related happening, Hunter always, always calls her “captain”.

With her, you can tell he’s not exactly trying to put distance between them or anything; after all, he uses it on a vulnerable moment, when he’s trying to get her to take the team and leave him to deal with Darius. It feels like he’s saying “I trust you, please, trust me too”.

Because Willow is cool and reliable, she’s the captain! He trusts her, and as such, acknowledging her authority is important.

4. Hexside

I always get a little bit frustrated when consuming media in which the protagonists are children/teenagers because they RARELY try going to an adult first before doing crazy stuff. Sometimes they have good reasons not to, sure, but most of the time it’s just... a choice. 

It happens really often, to the point I was genuinely shocked during Labyrinth Runners because I’m so used to kids trying to solve problems by themselves that the fact that Hunter’s first impulse to help Gus is “let’s find a teacher” caught me by surprise. I mean, it’s been... what? Two days tops? Since the adult he devoted his whole life to shattered his trust in a horrible way, I kinda expected him to be more distrustful. 

It makes sense though. He might not know or trust these adults, they have no reason to care about his safety, but Gus is one of their students, and after the immediately protective stance they took with Edric after discovering Adrian's deception (which Hunter might have been on time to witness) he probably knows he can trust them with Gus's. At that moment, his priority is helping Gus.

Where am I going with this?

His trust and his loyalty tend to go to people he knows (or thinks) will help him find the right path and do good things. That's not to say he doesn't trust people who aren't in charges of power, he obviously does, but because of his background, I feel like he particularly relies on authority figures more than in others.

And it's not inherently a bad thing! He should have been able to trust these figures to have his best interests at heart. Unfortunately, the Emperor's Coven is such a bad environment for... anyone, really, but specially for a kid growing up.

Now that he's out of there and has more people looking out for him, I think things will get easier for him. I do wonder if at some point he will switch from "Captain" to "Willow". If he does, it would be really interesting to see what drives that change.

[xiaowhore]

skinship hcs

kazuha

Surprisingly assertive. Despite his reserved disposition, he could be quite daring when it came to you; he made it a habit to pursue physical contact whenever possible, linking fingers with your free hand or tugging on your sleeve.

Unknowingly irritates bitter single people by his public display of affection. No, he wasn't really meaning to show off your relationship — of course, he'd brag about how amazing you were if given the chance to, but his affectionate nature stemmed from a genuine desire to touch you, not to boast about having a lover.

It could get pretty... embarrassing. Kazuha didn't do much grand gestures, but the frequency of his kisses out in the open was certainly unnatural. It's like he didn't have a filter, uncaring of what other people thought of him. In his eyes, being known as a doting boyfriend wasn't a bad thing in the slightest.

But of course, he did have some semblance of self-control. The smallest traces of restraint he had derived from the fact that, well, he was a wanted man in Inazuma, and he had to keep himself in check if he didn't want you facing any unnecessary danger.

There was once a time where he'd been completely easygoing, the memories of his troubles from his own nation slipped from his mind. He was as lovey-dovey as usual, spoonfeeding you at a restaurant packed with customers who were definitely snickering at your flustered expression, when he caught sight of a particular man dressed in Inazuma's style of clothing. His pleasant mood had diminished, the severity of the situation catching up to him all at once.

If they've come to know the identity of his significant other, they'd label you as his fatal weakness, and if it had been his fault you got hurt, Kazuha would never forgive himself.

The face he wore that day was truly one of fear.

He had to be wary of his surroundings for the sake of your safety, but you truthfully didn't mind. You were fully aware of what you were getting into when you professed your feelings for him, and if danger awaited you, then so be it. You could handle a brawl or two, and if it ever came to it, you were ready to elope... not that you'd admit it in front of Kazuha, since that was too humiliating and you thought he would be creeped out by your determination.

However, his overprotective tendencies could get kind of vexing. You weren't some dainty little flower, but your frustration led you to propose to act like you didn't know each other entirely whenever you were outdoors, just to make a point. You didn't doubt that he'd dislike the idea of it, but beyond your expectations, his face twisted weirdly as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind before. And it probably really didn't. “No,” he denied firmly, clasping your hand. “Anything but that,” he nearly begged.

Bewildered by his desperation, you felt guilt tear you apart. You hadn't meant to make him feel uneasy. “T-then you get it, right? It's fine how it's always been. You don't have to worry about me.” you squeezed his hand to reassure him, tracing the shape of his cheek. Wiping away the unshed tears. “They can't take me away from you.”

That day, you reached a compromise. Instead of pushing you away, he had to pull you closer — if he wanted to protect you, then all he had to do was stay by your side, right? He needn't worry so much.

(Besides, he was better known at Liyue as your clingy boyfriend rather than as a fugitive.)

Still, the path you've chosen came as a shock to some.

“Weren't you the one telling him to be less doting just a while ago?” Beidou teased, watching as your face flared to a bright scarlet. You cleared your throat, attempting to compose yourself.

“I'd rather him be clingy than ignore me. Isn't that normal...” you murmured, shyly fidgeting with your fingers. She hummed, wondering if Kazuha had seen this cute side of yours.

“But to go so far as to say you're willing to elope. Ah, youth...”

“I didn't say that!”

“It sounded like it.”

You groaned, burying your burning face into your hands. “No way, that's embarrassing... I was implying it, but if he reached that conclusion...”

Beidou observed you with a pleased smile. “I'm sure he was happy to hear it. Distancing himself away from you was most likely a hard decision for him, too. He must have been relieved to know you didn't want that either.”

“Of course I don't want that,” you grumbled. “He doesn't come home enough as it is, with your crew going off somewhere all the time. I fear I might actually die of loneliness if he dotes less on me.”

You knew there was some other reason behind his cuddly nature. He was always showering you with affection to make up for the times he couldn't.

Kazuha was thoughtful like that, attentive to your wants and needs. He knew you secretly appreciated his sweetness, craved for his warmth. And he was eager to please you every time.

“What's wrong?” he asked, confused by your sudden silence. You sat comfortably on his lap, your back resting against his chest, and his arms wrapped around your torso. You'd been chatting like usual at home when you abruptly stopped responding.

“You're... leaving with the others tomorrow, right?” you played with his hands, downcast eyes staring at his bandages.

He smiled apologetically, though you couldn't see it. “I'm sorry.” he pressed kisses on the back of your neck, lacing your fingers together. “I can't stay like you want me to.”

“Do you really have to leave...? Even when you just came back?”

He hummed, tilting your head toward his direction to kiss your eyelids. Tears gathered at the corner of your eyes and he wiped them carefully with his thumb. “I'll come back soon.”

Your expression crumpled into one of despair, doubtful of his promises. His heart squeezed in pain from the sight, and he quickly slotted his lips against your own, running a hand through your hair.

“I'm sorry,” he said once more, shifting positions to lay you on the couch properly. He hovered above you, kissing everything he could reach. “I'll make it up to you.”

He shared his warmth, and you welcomed his embrace; his touch set your skin ablaze, scattered goosebumps in his wake. His hands traced the shape of your body delicately, committing your gasps and whimpers to memory as he murmured sweet nothings to your ear, treasuring each second he spent in your presence. He only stopped for a moment to appreciate his work, fingers skimming the red spots decorating your skin.

He left his marks on you, and he wondered if they'd last long enough to warn others not to steal you away.

[makeste]

“but I thought about how I needed to say this”

a.k.a. yet another meta dissection of The Apology. I actually wrote most of this up on Friday night based on the original Japanese (@pikahlua​ has an excellent translation up here, and I also used @hanashimas’ translations as a reference as well), but I wanted to wait until the official release, though that turned out to be a mixed bag to say the least lol.

I would also recommend reading @pikahlua​ and @class1akids​’ breakdowns of this scene (here and here, respectively), because they are excellent, and because if any scene deserves to have as many meta breakdowns written about it as possible, it’s this one.

anyway so here goes.

Caleb did a more accurate job with this than the fanscan, even if he did try his best to take us out of the seriousness of the moment by throwing in that swiss cheese line lol. anyway so there are two things I want to talk about here. the first is the line about Izuku not remembering, which I thought was a nice touch. of course he doesn’t remember what Kacchan said back then. he wasn’t exactly in the soundest emotional state after seeing one of the people he cares about most taking a near-fatal blow that was meant for him. I’d be shocked if he remembers anything about the aftermath (including the way he flew into a mindless rage afterwards) right up until the point when he entered the OFA Interstellar Party Void with Tomura. anyway, so I thought that was a nice callback.

and speaking of emotional states, the other thing I wanted to talk about is the part that Caleb got right which the fan scanlation didn’t. “but I had more to say.” in other words, “stop trying to win on your own” wasn’t just a one-liner; it was meant to be the beginning of a much longer speech. “there were other things that I needed to say.”

like, can we just stop and talk about that for a second. because basically what this means is that in that instant, when Kacchan pushed Deku out of the way and got impaled, his one and only thought was that he needed to apologize to Deku. his life was presumably flashing before his eyes, he had no idea if he was going to survive or not, and the only thing on his mind was how urgently he needed to make things right with his former childhood friend.

moving on!

so I have a confession to make, which is that I am relieved to see Katsuki describing this as the reason why he bullied Deku, as opposed to Horikoshi trying to retcon it into some sort of “secretly he was just trying to protect him and keep him out of harm’s way because he was worried” thing, which ngl would not have gelled very well with me. the thing is that I’m really not a fan of the whole “Kacchan Did Nothing Wrong” mentality that some fans seem to have. like, I have seen all sorts of convoluted attempts to find excuses for Katsuki’s shitty behavior, but in my view those attempts undermine what I love about his character in the first place. Katsuki is such a great character specifically because he is not perfect. his redemption arc is so compelling because he was such a giant asshole at the start. he was completely at fault, and he acknowledges this, and takes full responsibility for it. and that is fucking fantastic.

his arc is so great because it doesn’t rely on garnering sympathy by giving him a Tragic Past, or by trying to foist the blame for his behavior over on someone else. it’s an arc that acknowledges that redemption isn’t something you achieve by making people feel sorry for you; it’s something you have to earn by actively working to change and do better. and by forgoing the “misunderstood/tragic past” route, Horikoshi is making a statement that anyone can go down the wrong path, but that more importantly, anyone can also choose at any time to turn away from said path. there is only one requirement for doing so, and that is realizing that you’ve done wrong, and deciding that you want to change.

anyway, so in chapter 284 Kacchan of course had that whole speech about Deku not taking himself into account, and mentioned how that made him want to keep his distance. and a good chunk of fandom took this to mean that Katsuki’s bullying was actually a misguided response to Deku’s reckless tendencies -- sort of an “if I show him how weak and powerless he really is, I can get him to accept the reality that he’s quirkless, and that being a hero will just get him hurt or killed” type of thing. and I won’t lie, for a good while I was wondering myself if Horikoshi was really going to go down that route. and like I said, I am honestly relieved that he didn’t. not only for the reasons stated in the previous paragraph, but also because the message that would have sent -- that there are certain circumstances in which bullying can almost be excused because the bully had Good Intentions and was just trying to save the other person from themselves, and so it Wasn’t That Bad, Actually -- is all kinds of fucked up to say the least. so yeah, I’m glad we ended up steering well clear of that.

(ETA: this post was long enough already so I edited out the 3 additional paragraphs I originally wrote analyzing the dialogue from 284. but just to be clear, I’m not trying to imply that Kacchan worrying about Deku’s recklessness is a retconned thing that Horikoshi only threw into the story recently, because there are multiple instances throughout the story where he clearly is worried and in total denial of it. but I firmly believe those feelings are not what led to the bullying. they’re two separate things. Kacchan worrying about Deku is what prompts him to yell at him in chapter 1 when Deku comes to save him. but it’s not what incited him to burn his notebook and taunt him earlier in that same chapter. that action had a much meaner and more selfish motivation behind it, and I’m glad Horikoshi didn’t try to change it up last minute, because it wouldn’t have felt right.)

thankfully as of this chapter I think we can safely cross that out as a possibility, as we’re given the true explanation straight from Katsuki himself. and the truth is that he bullied Deku out of insecurity and jealousy and fear and intolerance. there was nothing noble about it. there were no good intentions concealed in his actions. there are no justifications given, no excuses offered, and no mitigating circumstances to be considered, other than the fact (which neither he nor Horikoshi bring up) that he was and is still a child, and that children make mistakes.

it’s an explanation that challenges many of fandom’s ideas on who is and isn’t eligible to be redeemed. there is no Ozai in Katsuki’s backstory. there’s no great tragedy that he spent a lifetime trying to rise above. the only villain in Katsuki’s story is Katsuki himself. the only darkness that he has to overcome is his own. and it’s challenging, because I think many people believe the only way someone can be redeemed for doing bad things is if bad things happen to them in return. but what Horikoshi is saying here is that that’s not the case. bad doesn’t erase bad. and the one and only way to truly earn redemption is by doing good.

and that’s what makes this such a phenomenal scene for me. by not shying away from Katsuki’s flaws and failings, and having him take full responsibility for them, Horikoshi keeps the apology from being self-serving, and underscores the true depth of Katsuki’s character development. the level of self-awareness he has here is something most people can only dream of. which is very fitting, as that’s perhaps the most important takeaway from his character arc -- that it’s only by acknowledging your own weaknesses and flaws that you can learn to overcome them and reach your full potential.

one last thing to point out here, which is that in the panel where Katsuki finally acknowledges his terrible treatment of Deku, Deku is not even visible. instead, Horikoshi drew the panel from a perspective that makes it appear that Katsuki is addressing this particular line not just to Deku, but to all of his classmates.

again, he shows him taking full responsibility and admitting his wrongdoings in front of the people whose opinions and approval he cares about most. and just to clarify in case there’s any confusion from Caleb’s translation, Kacchan’s wording makes it very clear that he wasn’t just “mean” to Deku, but that he full-on bullied him (he uses the same verb -- “ijimeru” (苛める) -- that he did back in chapter 284). there’s no attempt to downplay his actions here.

moving on now, this chapter also reaffirmed another thing about Deku and Kacchan’s relationship which I was glad to see revisited -- Kacchan’s unwavering belief in Deku’s ability. this is one of those paradoxical things about their relationship which I’ve always been fascinated by, but which is also kind of hard to explain, because I don’t want it to come off like I’m trying to put a positive spin on something which was unequivocally awful. like, please don’t think I’m trying to say that Katsuki’s bullying of Deku was in any way a good thing. but that being said, there’s also a strange irony at play here, which is that Katsuki’s jealousy and insecurity also betray the fact that even at his very worst, he never once underestimated Deku. he has always believed in Deku’s strength, even when that strength pissed him off and made him afraid and uneasy.

no one else -- not All Might, or even Deku’s own mom -- believed from the get-go that Deku could become a hero. but Katsuki never once counted him out, even when he was calling him a pebble in his shoe. he confesses here that even though he “tried to act superior by rejecting [Deku]”, in truth he was never able to shake the feeling that Deku was above him. long before he ever understood the concept of “win to save”, he knew instinctively that there was a strength in Deku’s heart that couldn’t be measured, and which had the potential to surpass even his own strength. and I’ve always felt that this was so important, because it’s the one aspect of their early relationship that hinted that on some level, however subconscious, Katsuki held the same type of faith in Deku that Deku always held in him. it was one of the few things that hinted at there being a possible path towards reconciliation one day. and it paved the way for the most important shift in their relationship to date, when Katsuki finally realized who Deku got his quirk from, and responded not with resentment or spite, but with acceptance.

moving on, I also really love the way we see them portrayed at the different stages of their childhood throughout this speech, and how it perfectly lines up with the dialogue. from small children (when Katsuki talks about his insecurities first manifesting), to middle schoolers (when he talks about the bullying), to high schoolers (when he talks about the past year and everything he’s learned at U.A.). Horikoshi really didn’t have to go that hard, but he did, and that’s why we love him.

and then we finally get to That Part.

where do I even start with this there are so many things omg.

the bow. this is the one and only time Katsuki has ever bowed to anyone of his own volition as far as I recall. and this absolutely is a bow, just to be clear, even though his form is straight-up garbage (very Kacchan-esque, with his feet and arms spaced apart because he’s still a punk after all). this is Kacchan showing more humility and respect than he’s ever shown to anyone else in his entire life.

regarding “Izuku”, I actually have mixed feelings about this to tell the truth. I think it was a good call here because it was incredibly effective in setting the tone and showing just how serious Kacchan is. however if he continues to use “Izuku” rather than “Deku” from here on out, that would give the impression in hindsight that all his past usage of “Deku” really was meant as an insult, which would undermine some of my favorite scenes. I would really like to believe that since DvK2 or thereabouts, Kacchan has (mostly) been using “Deku (affectionate)” rather than “Deku (useless loser)”, lol. but if he switches to the “nicer” name on a permanent basis following his apology, it implies that the previous nickname was indeed being used cruelly. and so honestly I hope this was just a one-time thing, because I do think that in Katsuki’s mind, the name “Deku” hasn’t been meant as a slight to him for a long time now.

“my truth/this is what I truly feel” -- the word Katsuki uses in Japanese is honne (本音), and if you’re familiar with the concept of honne/tatemae, that’s the same “honne” he’s talking about here. it means that he’s casting aside all of his walls and facades and expressing what he truly feels. and of course, one of the fascinating things about Katsuki’s character is that he’s the exact opposite of most people in that he chooses to put his meanness on full display to the public, and ironically it’s the kindest parts of himself which he tends to keep the most carefully guarded and hidden away. this also means that while his rage and anger are very often insincere and put on just for show, those relatively few occasions where he lets his humanity truly shine through are pretty much 100% genuine, as is the case with this one here.

and Deku’s face says it all when it comes to how powerful those moments can be as a result.

and this, right here, is why it wasn’t enough for Katsuki to atone solely through his actions, and why he needed to actually say the words as well. it’s not that the words are more important; obviously the actions are far and away the most important part, and carry far more meaning. but the reason why Katsuki needed to say the words as well is simply because Izuku needed to hear them. needed to, and deserved to, because this is one of the most important people in the world to him.

and so he deserves to know that the relationship isn’t just one-sided, and that he is just as important to Kacchan as Kacchan is to him. he deserves to know that Kacchan understands how horribly he treated him, and that he’s sorry for it. and he deserves to know that Kacchan, without any expectation of it changing their relationship -- meaning that he will continue to feel this way regardless of what Izuku says or does from here on out -- cares about him. now more than ever, with AFO out there doing everything in his power to make Izuku feel as alone as possible, this is something that he really, really needed to hear.

so this part has some interesting wordplay which neither Caleb’s translation nor the fan scanlation was really able to get across. basically, in the Japanese version, when Katsuki talks about “those ideals”, Horikoshi uses the kanji for “ideal”, but pronounces it as “All Might.” obviously the meaning of this isn’t too hard to decipher, as we all know how much both boys admire All Might. to them, he absolutely is synonymous with the Ideal. so this is a way of showing that respect they both have towards him, even as Katsuki goes on to point out the one fatal flaw that All Might was never able to overcome.

and speaking of interesting wording, as others have noted, at this point in his speech Katsuki switches from “temee” (which he was using earlier during the “your strengths and my weaknesses” part) to “omae” (“omae” being a less insulting word for “you”, though still very manly and tough-sounding), which is definitely a big deal. though fwiw this is not the first time he’s used “omae” for Deku (he switches to it briefly right after DvK2, when he tells Deku “you had the strongest guy lay the groundwork for you -- don’t lose”, and then later when they’re walking back to the dorms and he says he’ll learn and get stronger by watching everyone around him just like Deku did). it’s definitely a good choice on Horikoshi’s part though, as it makes this last part of the speech sound more earnest and sincere.

just a quick note, he does indeed use a plural pronoun here, as in “the obstacles that you can’t overcome, we will overcome.” but as @pikahlua​ pointed out, the “we” here is ambiguous -- it could either mean “we” as in class 1-A -- “we will overcome them for you” -- OR it could mean “we” as in all of them -- class 1-A and Deku. “we will overcome them together.” idk about you, but I know which one gets my vote.

anyway, and so this is the line that finally wins Deku over and allows him to let go of his fears, however briefly. what I love about this is Kacchan’s utter conviction. one thing that Caleb’s translation doesn’t quite get across is Kacchan’s use of the word morenaku -- “without exception” -- when he talks about how they’re going to save everyone and win. it echoes that same sentiment he showed back during the Joint Training arc -- that it’s not a perfect victory unless they save everyone. every last person. and he explicitly lists Deku among their number, just so there can be no doubt.

and Deku’s response to this (or at least his thoughts, since he’s not really able to get many words out) pretty much brings everything full circle here.

he acknowledges that everyone else has gotten ahead of him. which is especially meaningful given who he’s standing directly across from. because for most of the series, as we all well know, it’s been Kacchan who was woefully lagging behind Deku in the character growth department. but now Deku himself is acknowledging that not only has Kacchan finally caught up at last, but that he and the others have surpassed him. which is only temporary, I should add, as I have zero doubt that Deku will catch up again soon. but the fact remains that just as Deku’s rapid increase in strength and skill left Kacchan scrambling to keep up earlier in the series, Kacchan’s extraordinary character development has now left Deku in that same position. as All Might once put it, “when he’s starting at level one, and you’re already at level 50, it’s only natural that you’ll be growing at different rates.”

and what’s so wonderful about this though is that the two of them are finally approaching that point where they’ve both caught up to each other and are finally starting to level out. Deku is a full-on badass, and Kacchan is out here talk-no-jutsuing with the best of them. the two of them have been chasing and chasing after each other this entire time, and now they’re finally just about ready to meet in the middle at long last, with each of them fully embodying both of those two crucial aspects -- win, and save.

just about. because Deku still needs some help catching up. but seeing as help has already been offered -- and accepted -- I can’t imagine it will be very long now, and I can’t wait to see him finally overcoming those fears and doubts with his friends by his side. it’s going to be such a powerful moment.

and last but not least,

or, as I prefer,

you had one job, Caleb. flkjsdlk.

but at least this provides a good opportunity to note that unlike the “we’ll help you handle it” line earlier in the speech, here the phrasing is left up to interpretation, as he doesn’t use a pronoun. so it could be “we know”, or, as the fan scanlation put it, “I know.” or it could be both. regardless, it’s good stuff.

anyway, and so Deku passes out, and in the process Horikoshi gives us one last parting metaphor, just in case anyone still thinks Kacchan is all talk because they haven’t been paying attention for the past 322 chapters (more likely than you think). once again, Katsuki’s actions speak louder than his words (even his nice words) ever could: he is literally there to catch Deku when he falls.

so that’s it! my sincere thanks to anyone who actually read through all of my endless ramblings about this scene which I have been waiting for since day one. props to Horikoshi for taking on an impossibly difficult task, and pulling it off with all of the emotion and care and nuance that I’ve come to expect from his writing. imo he delivered on every single level with the exception of the aftermath, which I don’t consider to have actually happened yet. Deku’s part of this is definitely a “to be continued.” but yeah, as far as Kacchan’s part goes, 10/10. so fucking proud of this kid.

[parvulous-writings]

Stars //Sith!Obi-Wan x Pregnant!Reader

Request:   Heya! First of all, I just want to say, wow!!! I loved wvry word of the Vader x Reader you did, and reading your notes, I really don't mind it as an AU! I've never really read anything to do with Sith Obi-Wan before, though to be fair I only just got into Star Wars again 😅 This isn't really a request, but from what I can see from your posts, you seem to really like Obi-Wan, well, Ewan Mcgregor in general 😂I wanted to ask if you could write another x Reader, but this time a Sith Obi-Wan AU?Thanks for reading! -Red ❤ p.s, @rey-is-not-a-skywalker, you're welcome for requesting the sith x reader, I guess you're obsessed as I am 😂 p.s the second, I'm loving the new pfp!

Requested by: ​Red

Summary: The reader has some news for Sith Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: The reader is AFAB, pregnancy

Words: 1.7K

Notes: You would be correct in assuming I love Obi-Wan and Ewan McGregor as a whole. Also I’m glad you like the new pfp! I am also in love with it! :)  Did I self indulge with this oneshot? I think you know the answer. Leave me alone, I am too much of a simp at this point.  I have never been pregnant, so some of this may be inaccurate. 

Not my gif

An old Jedi’s fall from grace was a never a pretty sight to see, it was no glorious tale to tell from any side. It was full of hurt, pain, hatred, suffering. This was more than true for the fallen Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. His downfall was the least expected out of those who turned away from the light, he had always been the most loyal of men, the most faithful of soldiers.  Perhaps, in part at least, this was what drove him away from his original allegiance. He was an exceptional leader of course, the most fantastic of generals, but besides that, in the larger picture, to the Jedi Order as a whole he was nothing more than a faceless defender of the galaxy. Just another of the tens of thousands Jedi.  Another factor that led to the man’s path to the dark side, was you. What you made him feel. The passion, the love. An indescribable feeling, all he could say about it was that it was truly wonderful. He did not mind the fear, or the hatred that came with it, for you made it all worth it. The massive highs compared to the lows outweighed them greatly, and thus he gave it all for and to you. His passion, his loyalty, his love. Everything he had, every fiber of his being, he gave it all to you. If he could turn the worlds on theirs heads, and you gave the word, he’d do it. 

You had initially been shocked at the man’s sudden change of life-plans and of loyalty. Though, the more you thought about it, the more you began to convince yourself, perhaps he had made the right choice. He wasn’t so uptight in regards to public affection now- he’d often smother you with kisses in front of company, or hold your arm or hand as you wander about in cities or halls. Despite the Sith being the darker beings of the Force, the life you now lived was almost... Peaceful. After a while, you very much enjoyed it. There weren’t so many rules now, and you both felt free.  Though, not everything about your new life was free or peaceful. There were times that Obi-Wan was pulled away from you much like in the way he was during the times of the Republic and the Jedi Order. He’d be wrenched from your embrace for weeks or months at a time, and the holocom conversations you shared were not the same as actual conversations. The comforting presence you both gave to one another were missing, and it was painfully obvious to the pair of you. 

One particular night, whilst Obi-Wan had been away, you were staring out at the stars- each of them twinkling from their position on the blanket of the night from their positions thousands of light-years away. They fascinated you every night, though you knew some of the planetary systems by name and had visited a few yourself, you couldn’t help but imagine what could be hiding away on them,  what could be awaiting discovery. They also distracted you from something plaguing your mind on this particular night, something you needed to get off of your chest. It had been bothering you more and more over the last few days, ever since you had made the discovery. 

You are brought from your train of thought by the bleeping of your comm. You move leisurely to answer it, there was only one person who could be calling you at this time of night, but you knew he wouldn’t mind you taking a moment longer than usual. You answer your lover’s call, and a murmur on the other end of the line hushes- he must have been talking to someone as he awaited your answer. “Ah, my beloved.. I thought you had fallen asleep.” He mused quietly, his smug expression clear even through the blue hologram, and you can’t help but chuckle at him.  “No. I was looking out at the stars,” You tell him, plainly. Sunsets and night skies held a special place in both of your hearts; you had spent many nights on Coruscant looking out at them, telling each other the wishes you had made on shooting stars that you rarely saw. You heard Obi-Wan sighed quietly. He knew your habits when he was away, and what they meant. “I should be returning soon, my dear.” He assured you, lowering his voice to nothing more than a whisper. “I am trying to get this done, you know, but it’s not as easy as-”  “I know, I know.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking down at the floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Obi-Wan’s brows furrows, clearly he’s noticed your odd behaviour. 

“Something’s bothering you.” Obi-Wan notes, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his long robe. “Tell me,” He demanded. Though his tone was soft, it was still very much a command. You start to shake your head at him.  “I would rather not... Not over the comm.” You start, looking over to his projection. He looks even more concerned than before- partially because you disobeyed an order from him, and partially because you were willingly withholding information from him. You never did either of those things, not with him. You were both in balance, and trusted each other completely. He knew this had to be incredibly serious for you to say something like this.  “Then I shall return immediately.” He no longer cared for his assignment; he would much prefer that he knew you were safe and out of harm’s way. You start to shake your head more frantically.  “No, Kenobi- you must finish the task the Emperor has given you, he-”  “Can wait.” Obi-Wan finished abruptly. You could tell from the way he stood and held himself- chest out, shoulders back, spine rigid and straight-  that he could not be swayed on this. “He can wait.” He repeated, wanting the words to sink in, for you more than himself. “I will be returning, whether you agree with me or not. I will be back by the morning.” And with that, those final harsh words, he ended the call. You sighed quietly, running your hands over your face in exasperation and stress. You hadn’t wanted to pull your lover away from the mission he had been given, you had wanted to wait just a few more days till he returned as had been planned. You sighed deeply, moving away from the comm, heading towards bed as you strip off your clothes.  You nestle under the covers, wrapping your arms around yourself for some comfort. 

By morning, you were well rested. As your eyes started to crack and flutter open, you became acutely aware of the arm around your waist, and the head buried into the back of your neck. You shuffle slightly to look over your shoulder, smiling slightly at the peaceful expression on the face of the sleeping man behind you. By rights, you didn’t even have to turn over to know that it was Obi-Wan, you knew the feel of his aura and his touch. Still, it provided a sense of comfort, knowing with more certainty that it was him. You shuffle round to face him fully, brushing some of his auburn locks away from his closed eyes. His nose scrunches ever so slightly at the contact; and he too starts to wake up. It’s a slow process for him, and always had been. Even during his time serving the Order; though your mornings together were few and far between, you had noticed this little pattern of his. His eyes crack open like yours had done, and a drowsy smile moves over his lips.  “Good morning, darling...” He yawned softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your jaw. “You look stunning...” He told you, his lips still pressed against your skin as he gave you the compliment- no doubt the first of many that morning.  “You flatter me, Obi..” You murmur in reply, and presses kiss after feather-light kiss over your jaw and neck.  “I speak only the truth for you, my love...” He trailed off for a moment, as he started to push himself up onto his elbows. “Now... Onto business...” He mused, “You still need to tell me what’s bothering you.” He pointed out, and he was right, as he often was. “So, I would start talking, my dear.” 

Though his demeanour is playful, you know you shouldn’t argue this time around. You sit up, leaning against your pillows as your try to think of how to start talking about your recent discovery- despite it’s wonderful connotations, it was not as easy as one might think. “Obi...” You begin.  “Darling.” He replied, hardly missing a beat.  “I have some... Rather pleasing news.” He nods, prompting you to continue. “You... Are going to be a father.”  It takes him a moment to actually register your words, for their meaning to sink in. He practically tackles you back into the bed when it clicks somewhere in his mind, the widest smile on his face. He’s laughing breathlessly, hardly able to believe the news or contain his excitement because of it.  “Is it so?” He asked, his hand splaying over your stomach as he spoke. “My, my...” He mumbled- and it was moments like this that showed how much he had changed from his old ways. Had you given such news to him whilst he was still a Jedi- he would have panicked at first, asked if you wished to keep the child, and if you had done he would have likely asked you to leave to a slightly more rural planetary system. He had no fear now, and so didn’t need to ask you. He accepts it with ease in these times, and is more than happy to receive such news.  He had no fear in rearing a child now, so long as you wished for it too. He paused as this thought washed over him, then gave you a curious look. “Are we... Keeping the child?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I think we could be wonderful parents... If you’re not away so much.” You poke your finger into his chest.  “Alright... I will discuss it...” He mused, resting his head near you abdomen, gazing at it in wonder. He could hardly believe that your child- the fruits of both of you- was growing there, and he was more than just excited to meet his child. He pulled you close again, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances as the morning wound on, till you eventually fell asleep again in his arms, comforted by his presence. 

[phenomenal1500]

Under The Influence | Erik Killmonger

Chapter 2: ~Burn It All Down~

For Chapter 1: ~Long Live The King~ click here. 

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"Nah. I'm your king." He yelled and turned around, his dark eyes landing on his new adviser in front of him while he walked up to her.... the words secretly being meant for her in particular.

~~~

Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Shuri, Nakia and Queen Mother had already fled through the cave's tunnels while the rest of the Elders quietly walked away from the tragic event, softly crying or visibly angry. She would've loved to do the same, to show emotions and grief for her former king and the Warrior Shaman, but she couldn't, not when the murderer of T'Challa and Zuri was standing right before her with his hand held out for her to take it.

Venery looked up with hesitation and back at his hand covered in dried blood before forcing herself to take it. She had to stay in character, be loyal to the throne, that was the oath she had taken after all.

"I will walk you to your room and send someone to patch you up before we start the ritual, your highness." She slightly bowed with her head, really trying to keep her voice from breaking. She felt like such a betrayer to Wakanda and all the kings that had once ruled over it.... she felt like such a failure.

"Aight, princess. Lead the way." He gave her a small smirk, showing off his golden fangs while his muscles flexed with every breath he took. If they weren't in the situation they were in right now, if he wasn't the bad guy.... if everything was different, she would've given into the fact he was really handsome, but everything wasn't different. This was the situation they were in, he was the bad guy, he did kill Zuri and T'Challa and he was the new king now. The new king she had to serve no matter what happened.

The woman managed to pull her golden eyes off of him before turning around, not saying a word as she began to walk. Not that she was able to say anything either, her voice would definitely crack if she did so and she didn't want him to already doubt her loyalty on the first day. With burning eyes from the tears that were forming and an unsteady breath, she picked up the path that led back to the palace with the man following her closely.

Killmonger didn't say anything either as he walked behind her, giving her time to silently grieve or just process what had taken place at the Warrior Falls.

He didn't mean to hurt her or anyone else the way he did, but he had waited his whole life for this moment and he had to do it.... no matter how much it disgusted her or the rest of his people. Not that he truly cared that much about their judgements though, the thing was just that she was his adviser and he needed her by his side to remain seated on his throne.

He had to make her trust him and he had already gotten off to a bad start.

Killmonger knew she was astounded by his actions and he was right. Everything about the man truly disgusted her, but even then.... he did have the right to take over the throne. The right to take what belonged to him as well. He had done nothing wrong according to the law of Wakanda, but Venery still had a bad feeling about the king.

After following the path of the grey smooth stones back to the inhabited city again, they ended up on the airstrips just in front of the palace and she opened the massive and heavy glass doors for him.

"After you, my king." Her hand waved through the air elegantly as a sign for him to step inside first, but the man was stubborn though.

He hovered over the woman's smaller frame, placing his hand right next to her head. "Nah- after you, princess." He sighed for her to walk and she nodded slowly, awkwardly slipping past his body to walk in.

Together they continued to walk through the gigantic halls and into the elevator and at the top floor, they finally arrived at his room.

Ven unlocked the door and stepped inside to check if everything was okay. The room was semicircular on the side where all the windows were, a circular balcony attached to it, and the color scheme of the king's room was green, white, gold, and black. The walls were decorated with many different kinds of Tribal paintings belonging to almost each Tribe he now ruled over, and in the center of the only straight wall was a very large double bed set against it.

"This is the room you'll be staying in." His eyes scanned the room once he joined her inside. "If you  need anything just knock on the door on the opposite side of yours. That's my room."

Before she could flee from the room and go back to her own to break down there, he kicked the door shut with his boot and she backed away from it.

"Listen, girl.... we need to talk." He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, his voice confident and calm. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"Bothering me? Sir, you...." She went silent, knowing that whatever she was going to say next was going to be bad talk about Killmonger and he was standing right there.

"We're in a safe place with just you and me, princess. It's okay to speak your mind." He walked away from the door, circling around the woman before sitting down on the huge double bed. His legs were wide, his elbows resting on his thighs, and the eye contact they held never broke. "Again- what's bothering you that you want to talk about?"

She inhaled deeply, not knowing what to do so she simply decided to be honest.

"I.... I served T'Challa for a long time and I feel like such a betrayer whenever I think about serving you the same way. I want to, I truly do because I believe your motives could be good ones and till know you did nothing wrong, but I have this bad feeling.... like I'm living on the border of right and wrong. I don't know whether to serve you and be loyal to you or stay loyal to-...."

"A dead man?" He interrupted her, still in that same controlled and calm voice while he leaned forward a bit. "Being loyal to a dead man is what you're doing right now. He's gone and I'm sorry, but it had to be done." She lowered her head, fighting the tears and clearing her throat so her voice wouldn't crack.

Whatever she was going to do, whatever she was going to say, she in no circumstances was going to look weak in front of him.

"Perhaps you're right." She sighed, still feeling like a betrayer as she looked at her feet. However, in the meantime that Venery was struggling with her thoughts, Killmonger leaned back and stretched his arms which suddenly reminded her of his wounds. "Almost forgot, let's get you patched up, my king." She held out her hand to him and he took it, standing up so he could follow her.

~~~

"Welcome to the City of The Dead." She smiled when she saw the beautiful temple appear before her eyes after the long stairway they had to climb and she turned around to face her current king. The man had begun to act more calm and more controlled when he figured what was about to happen, finally feeling a bit of peace since this was what he had trained for all his life. Together they walked into the sacred temple and she helped him get ready for the ritual. "As per tradition, you must undergo the ritual where all Kings of Wakanda must go through by drinking the fluid of the Heart-Shaped Herb. It will grant you visions, a moment to speak to your ancestor's spirit within the Ancestral Plane even, before officially being crowned as king and Black Panther."

He hummed and carefully laid down in the circle filled with terracotta coloured sand encircled by the shamans, royal guards and his adviser.

"Allow the Heart Shaped Herb to give you the powers of the Black Panther and take you to the Ancestral Plane." The woman shaman chanted and then ordered the others to bury Killmonger after the herb's fluid that he drank began to take effect on him. Venery helped, gently covering his face while the rest covered his body. Once Killmonger was completely buried in the sand, everyone was silently waiting for him to wake up and Ven kneeled down beside him once he started to breathe heavily.

He was.... scared?

Before she could reach out to rest her hand on the accumulated sand to hope it would somehow comfort him, he suddenly arose from the sand and it shocked her. She stumbled backwards and he wiped away a single tear that he tried to hide. It appeared something changed him in the time he was in the Ancestral Plane.... He looked like a whole new man. Powerful. Ready to conquer the world, but yet hurt. Traumatized. It made her curious about who he had talked to that made him change like this?

"Breathe, my king." She reached out to touch his shoulder and he faced her before she could even do so, hyperventilating and shaking. He suddenly noticed he scared her away through all the panic he felt at that moment and held out his hand which she took carefully, stroking the palm of his hand. "Just breathe, my king."

Taking a deep breath, he suddenly felt the power of the heart shaped herb coursing through his veins and he smirked a little, clearly enjoying the wave of power.

"The Heart Shaped Herb did that?" Killmonger began to walk toward a dirt plot filled with the heart shaped herb and glared at it while the female shaman that had followed him nodded to confirm he was correct. "This is all of it?"

"Yes. So when it comes time for another King, we will be ready." She stated and Venery joined them instantly, knowing that what she had said wasn't going to appeal to him at all.

"Another King....?" He narrowed the gap between the shaman and him with a dangerous look in his dark eyes. "Yeah, go ahead and burn all that."

Ven furrowed her brows as she heard Killmonger order the rest of the shamans to burn all of the herbs and she couldn't believe what she had heard. She knew he wanted it to be done in order to cement his status as king over Wakanda permanently and to prevent anyone from ever opposing him, but she couldn't let it happen.... it was something holy to them....

"My King, we cannot do that. It is our tradition-...." She stepped in front of him and he clenched his jaw, really trying not to harm her in any way while she tried to go against his commands.

"When I tell you to do something, I mean that shit, girl. Burn it all!" He growled lowly as he leaned into her ear and her heart stopped for a second before she automatically nodded, frightened of what would happen if she didn't agree with him.

"You heard the king-...." She felt a lump form in her throat and repeated the order to the other shamans so they would finally take action, burning the whole garden while Killmonger observed the landscape to make sure all of them are burned down.

"I'm sorry my kings." Ven whispered softly while watching all the beautiful flowers turn into ash.