#when I say I’ve never hated anyone more

[mechaknight-98]

Renegade (NSFW) FT Chowon and Hanni

Operator’s Notes: A return to Codex Keepers and Ward Witches. Writing this piece was insanely tough and painful as a bunch of stuff I was seeing happen in real-time and beginning to see further then the people around me caused this to be a miserable story for me to write but the story needed to be told, because to know is to be burdened.

Loremaster Lorgar never thought he’d take on another apprentice Codex Keeper—until he met Doflamingo.

On paper, Doflamingo was average in every way: average height, and average test scores. There was little to distinguish him from other well-educated youth hailing from Terra. To Lorgar, he seemed like anyone’s apprentice.

But then Lorgar met Doflamingo in person. Doflamingo walked in slumped and carried a dejected expression as he entered that stopped for a moment when Lorgar's and Doflamingo's eyes lokced then his expression changed again. The young man fully entered Lorgar’s office with a look of quiet fury. His eyes were weary and bloodshot, and he had betrayed nights of sleepless study, yet his expression held an intensity that contradicted his exhausted appearance. He sat across from Lorgar, but before the Loremaster could say anything, Doflamingo spoke.

“Yeah, I’ll see myself out,” Doflamingo muttered, voice low and resigned. Lorgar raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the defeat in his tone. “Why would you say that? You’ve only just sat down.”

Doflamingo sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “My first choice, Master Aragorn, rejected me. Told me, ‘If I had my way, you wouldn’t have made it past the entrance exam.’ I’ve admired that man’s work for years, and hearing him say that was a… well, it was a reality check. I’m not cut out for this Codex work. Every interview since has felt like a waste of time. I’m just going through the motions so I can figure out what to do next. Maybe the military… or the Peace Corps. Yeah, I could see myself in the Peace Corps.”

Lorgar watched Doflamingo carefully. Beneath the young man’s defeat, there was something more—something familiar. The same feeling he’d had when he met his former apprentice, Othello. But where Othello’s presence was marked by quiet compassion, Doflamingo carried a burning passion— that was pragmatic and unwavering.

“You know what?” Lorgar said after a moment. “I’ll take you in.” Doflamingo blinked, stunned into silence. “Wait, really? Just like that?” Lorgar smiled faintly. “Just like that. We’ll begin with the Naming Ceremony. You’ll choose a name from the Codex that resonates with you, one that reflects your path.”

Without hesitation, Doflamingo responded, “Deathsaurus.” Lorgar’s surprise deepened. Most apprentices took days, sometimes weeks, to choose their Codex name. But when Lorgar met Doflamingo’s eyes, he saw the fierce determination behind them—an unwavering focus fueled by an unrelenting fury.

“And why that name?” Lorgar asked. Doflamingo’s expression softened as he explained, “Deathsaurus is a machine god of destruction from the NeoPaleolithic texts. His purpose wasn’t just destruction though. He was often written in the antagonistic space despite his purpose. He was hated by the other machine gods because they didn’t understand him. His role was to destroy, yes, but to leave the path open for renewal, for something better.”

Lorgar studied him for a moment, then nodded. “You seem well-versed. Have you indexed this lore?”

Doflamingo pulled a worn notebook from his bag, filled with meticulous notes and references. “I figured you’d ask. I’ve spent years researching it.”

Lorgar glanced through the pages, impressed not only by the depth of Doflamingo's knowledge but by the sheer tenacity it represented. He knew then that training this young man would be both a challenge and a great responsibility. He sensed a deep-seated resentment that would take time to break but he could start small and chip at it

Lorgar studied Doflamingo’s intense expression for a moment before speaking again. “I understand why you’d choose Deathsaurus,” he said slowly. “A figure who clears the way for something new, feared and misunderstood. But consider Dynazenon. Another machine god from that era, but one who stood for heroics and construction, for building something better after the destruction. He wasn’t just about tearing things down—he was about lifting things up.”

Doflamingo’s eyes flickered, the fire in them softening just slightly as he considered the new name. “Dynazenon…” he repeated, testing the word on his tongue. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yeah… I like that.”

The day after naming the two of them went to the graduation and reaping ceremony. Lorgar noticed Dynazenon’s agitation at going. “Not a big fan of the ceremony,” he asked with a pleasant voice. Dynazenon who had been mindlessly scratching at his face turned to Lorgar.

“I hate the preening and the people. Their always so smug.” Lorgar laughed, “Then why Join the Codex Keepers? This is like a major portion of it.”

Dynazenon sighed before answering, “ Magnus the Red told me if I wanted to Change the world for the better I should join the Codex Keepers.”

Lorgar’s eyes widened at the mention of his brother. It would certainly explain Dynazenon’s temperament but wondered the depth of their connection.

“And what else do you know of my brother?” For the second time, Dynazenon looked surprised,

“You're Titus?” he asked intrigued. Lorgar smiled as he nodded remembering his youth as a warlord who helped establish the Codex Keepers.

“There's a name I haven't heard in a long time. Tell me how is my brother Mercutio?”

“He’s good. Tired though but his term as the ruler of Astaria is finally ending. So he’ll be able to rest I assume.”

Logar smiled, “if that’s true then I'll be able to return to my original post as Master of Records instead of Loremaster of Psionics which he was having me fill,”

Dynazenon stared surprised then said, “Well then I guess I better pass before then,”

Lorgar smiled, “Ah don't you worry young Dynazenon I fully intend to finish your training.,” Dynazenon felt at ease hearing that.

“Now go Enjoy the party you earned it.”

Dynazenon faltered, “But I don't like parties, especially with strangers."

Lorgar smiled and said to Dynazenon, "I know you'd rather go hunting or hang out with one to two close connections, but if you are to be the best Codex Keeper This is part of it Dynazenon. Or would the great Dynazenon remain hindered by his social anxiety?"

Dynazenon breathed and said, "Fine but don't get mad if I have to deal with fights." Dynazenon said absent-mindedly.

"Why would that be the case?"

"Because I am loud and I don't back down. It's upsetting to people and overrides their ability to hear me or tolerate me most of the time. In all honesty, I should shut up but it's like nails in my head when I see something wrong if that makes sense, so I just have to say something," Dynazenon explains. Which makes Lorgar wonder about his new pupil. He observes him using true sight and confirms his suspicion.

"Um, Dynazenon. Why are you using Truesight and Future Sight?"

Dynazenon looked at Lorgar confused as he had never heard of those before.

"What's that master?"

Lorgar looked at Dynazenon and realized that his apprentice was using Truesight and Future sight instinctively—something most other Codex Masters couldn't or refused to do. He took this in and realized that Training Dynazenon would be much harder than originally anticipated.

"I will tell you later," he said careful not to say any falsehoods to or around the young man. It did explain the physical agitation he often displayed around insincerity.

As Dynazenon walked beside Lorgar toward the grand hall, he could feel it—Lady Sunshine’s eyes on him, watching, assessing. It wasn’t just curiosity; it was something deeper, a guarded wariness that made his skin prickle. He wasn’t surprised. People like her always reacted to him this way, though they usually tried to hide it better. He hated it—the scrutiny, the unspoken judgments.

When Lady Sunshine finally spoke, her voice was light, but Dynazenon could sense the layers beneath it.

“Who is this young man?” she asked Lorgar, her words directed at him but her intent not quite reaching him.

He didn’t react outwardly, though his mind sharpened. She’s suspicious of me already. Of course, she was. People like her always were.

“Meet Doflamingo Gauma, or well, his codex keeper name Dynazenon. He is my new apprentice,” Lorgar said, his tone casual, almost too casual.

Dynazenon could feel the subtle tension between them—the slight flicker of something more than professionalism. He’d seen it before, the way Lorgar and Lady Sunshine exchanged those sidelong glances, their connection obvious to anyone paying attention.

They think they’re clever, but it’s clear as day. Dynazenon’s thoughts churned, irritation gnawing at him. Why bother hiding it? You’re fooling no one.

Lady Sunshine’s gaze lingered on him longer than he liked. Her eyes flickered with something as she studied him, and Dynazenon could feel her magic probing at the edges of his senses. It was like a soft brush against his skin, but the longer it went on, the more it agitated him. His pulse quickened, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral, even as something inside him coiled tighter, ready to snap.

Lady Sunshine stared at Doflamingo surprised then she noticed the unmistakable aura of magic surrounding him. She dipped into true sight and confirmed her suspicions his aura coiled and extended outside of him like a mighty dragon, but he didn't notice it, then she noticed that he was also using Psionics in tandem, but not consciously but as if his abilities were a part of him, and that part of him was very angry. quickly dismissing her true sight she turned to Lorgar,

"Um, He is certainly interesting." Lady Sunshine said very guarded. Lorgar nodded understanding the deeper meaning of her words, and said

"Yes He was rejected by Aragorn can you believe that?" Lorgar said very pointedly. Lady Sunshine understanding his double meaning said to her current apprentice Wonhee,

"Hey Wonhee can you and Dynazenon go into the grand hall Loremaster Lorgar and I need to talk. Wonhee nodded but her discomfort could be felt and Dynazenon felt it.

"it's fine I'll walk in myself. I'll see you soon master." Dynazenon said walking in solo. Lady Sunshine groaned and turned to her apprentice.

"Why did you spurn him you haven't even met him."

"Me what are you talking about? Ask your husband why he took the hydra of Hell."

Lorgar looked at Wonhee concerned, "The hydra of Hell," He asked

"Yes, the reclusive unstable trainee who was almost kicked out of the examination because he couldn't tone himself down and suggested genocide as the solution to the diplomacy test. Why would you accept him,"

Lorgar didn't like Wonhee's tone but addressed her concerns, "While I don't owe you an explanation, I will answer for Lady Sunshine who is also probably curious. My brother Magnus recommended him to the Codex Keepers and I think that he is too dangerous to be left outside of a position of power,"

"Why?" Wonhee pressed not understanding the value of having someone like him in the codex keepers.

"the child who is abandoned by the village will burn it to the ground to feel warmth," Lorgar said before Lady Sunshine excised her apprentice from the conversation. The couple walked into the grand hall finding a balcony to watch their apprentices.

Lorgar and Lady Sunshine stood side by side on the balcony, looking down at the milling crowd in the Grand Hall. The sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter floated up to them, but their conversation carried a different tone—one of quiet urgency.

Lady Sunshine folded her arms, her gaze fixed on Dynazenon, awkwardly navigating through the room. His discomfort was palpable from where they stood, though few would notice if they weren’t watching closely.

“I felt it,” she said, her voice low and troubled. “The anger. It’s more than just resentment from being rejected or an overinflated sense of justice. He sees all of the mess off the world as is and it gnaws at him. It drives him mad. His anger, It’s raw, deep-seated. His aura felt… Aggressive, almost predatory. Like a dragon just under the surface, waiting to be unleashed. It was this beautiful vibrant shade of purple but holds this darkness within”

Lorgar remained silent for a moment, watching Dynazenon pick up a glass of wine, only to set it back down without drinking. “I know,” he finally said, his voice thoughtful. “But he’s more than his anger, Sunshine. Much more.”

Lady Sunshine’s eyes narrowed. “Lorgar, it’s not just the anger. He’s using both magic and psionics as one. You saw it too, didn’t you? He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, which makes it even more dangerous. That kind of power in the hands of someone who’s barely aware of what they’re capable of—” she cut herself off, shaking her head. “It’s not a question of if he’ll lose control, it’s when.”

Lorgar sighed, leaning against the stone railing. “People like Dynazenon don’t just disappear. If we left him out there, wandering, someone—something—would find him. He’s too resilient, too adaptable. We don’t have the luxury of ignoring him, especially after what I saw in his interview.”

Lady Sunshine raised an eyebrow. “His interview?”

Lorgar nodded, eyes still following Dynazenon as he made his way through the crowd, his movements stiff and calculated. “When he walked in, he was already moving on. He was rejected by Master Aragorn, completely disillusioned with the Codex Keepers—and yet, he wasn’t broken. He was already plotting his next move, thinking ahead. He was prepared to leave, to build something else. Someone that resilient, that adaptable, doesn’t just give up and fade into obscurity.”

Lady Sunshine’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And you think that’s a good thing? That kind of resilience, combined with the anger I felt from him, could lead him down a dark path, Lorgar. You know that as well as I do.”

Lorgar turned to face her, his expression serious but calm. “I do know that. But I also know that if we don’t guide him, someone else will. And that someone may not have our best interests—or the Codex Keepers’—at heart. Right now, his anger is directed inward, toward himself and the system he feels failed him. But he’s not malicious. He doesn’t seek destruction for destruction’s sake. He wants change.”

“Change,” Lady Sunshine repeated, her voice skeptical. “Change fueled by anger and resentment.”

“Change fueled by a desire for something better,” Lorgar corrected gently. “He didn’t come in seeking revenge or chaos. He came because he believed in something greater. Magnus saw that in him, and so do I. If we don't take his attempt at doing the right thing in earnest he will become the villain that lies beneath.”

Lady Sunshine’s gaze softened slightly, but her concern didn’t wane. “And what about his power? You saw it, Lorgar. His abilities are already beyond most Codex Masters, and he’s not even aware of what he’s doing. Magik and psionics work together, instinctively. That’s not just dangerous—it’s unheard of.”

Lorgar nodded. “Yes, I saw. And that’s precisely why he needs training. If we don’t help him harness that power, it could spiral out of control. But if we do… think of what he could achieve. He has the potential to reshape entire worlds, to make them better.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Lady Sunshine pressed. “What if the anger takes over? What if we can’t steer him?”

Lorgar was silent for a moment, weighing his words carefully. “I’ve spent years training the best and brightest, and I’ve seen both success and failure. Dynazenon is different, I won’t deny that. But people like him don’t vanish. They either rise to greatness or become something far worse. We have no choice but to ensure it’s the former.”

Lady Sunshine’s gaze softened, her concern still evident but tempered by a grudging understanding. “You’re putting a lot of faith in someone who doesn’t even know his own strength.”

Lorgar smiled faintly. “I am. But I’ve learned to trust my instincts. And Dynazenon… he may be rough around the edges, but he’s not lost. Not yet. He just needs someone to believe in him, someone to show him that there’s more to him than anger.”

Lady Sunshine’s eyes flickered back to Dynazenon, who was now standing alone near a wall, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture tense. “I hope you’re right,” she said quietly. “Because if you’re wrong, he could burn everything we’ve built to the ground, and everyone will blame you.”

Lorgar followed her gaze, his expression thoughtful. “If I’m right, he could be the one to save it.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the young man below, each lost in their thoughts about the future—and the fragile balance of power that Dynazenon represented.

Dynazenon gently and discretely moved through the ceremony hoping no one would be looking for him. He meticulously avoided Aragorn, His chosen apprentice, and anyone who associated with him along with a couple of other trainees he had displeased during his testing. Eventually, he found a quiet corner to hide from prying eyes. until the Presentation ceremony began.

Dynazenon felt exposed without Master Lorgar by his side, as if he had been left in the middle of the battlefield without armor. He scanned the crowded hall, looking for familiar faces, but everyone seemed distant, absorbed in their own conversations. Feeling the anxiety rise in his chest, he turned to his usual coping mechanism—observation. He picked at his food, but his eyes remained sharp, studying the interactions around him.

He noticed Wonhee in the crowd, standing aloof and composed, but something about her made his teeth clench. The disgust in her eyes earlier, he thought bitterly. Like I was some sort of creature to be pitied or feared. Despite his anger, a strange protective instinct kicked in. He couldn’t explain why, but watching over her, even from a distance, felt like his duty. Like an older brother shielding a sibling he didn’t like but couldn’t abandon. He kept a close eye on her, but in the back of his mind, the sense of isolation gnawed at him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a presence beside him—a gentle but inquisitive energy. A young woman, her aura peaceful but curious, had approached. He turned to face her, not recognizing her but sensing no threat. Her energy was open, disarming.

“Hello there, what’s your name?” she asked with a friendly smile. Dynazenon blinked in mild confusion. People didn’t usually approach him, at least not like this. She seemed genuine, unafraid.

“Apprentice Codex Keeper Dynazenon,” he responded, his voice steady but guarded. “And you are?”

“Ward Witch Dahyun. A pleasure to meet you,” she replied warmly, her smile deepening.

She seems… different, Dynazenon thought, eyeing her carefully. No judgment in her eyes, just curiosity. He relaxed slightly, the tightness in his chest easing.

“The pleasure is mine,” he added, offering a faint smile in return. Dahyun took a seat beside him, casually reaching over to steal a piece of food from his plate. Dynazenon raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. There was something about her—her confidence and ease—that made him feel less guarded. She wasn’t trying to probe or pry. She was just… there, and that felt strangely comforting.

“So, why are you avoiding everyone here?” Dahyun asked playfully, her tone light but genuinely curious.

Dynazenon let out a low chuckle, surprised by how natural the sound felt. Normally, he would have bristled at such a question, but with her, it didn’t feel like an intrusion.

“I’m not well-liked by my contemporaries,” he admitted, shrugging. “Or by Master Aragorn.”

Dahyun’s brow furrowed in confusion. How could anyone dislike him so quickly? she thought. He seemed quiet, reserved—hardly the type to stir up trouble. But there was something about him, something deeper. She could sense it. That underlying tension in his aura, the coiled energy just beneath the surface.

“Well, what if I like you?” Dahyun said defiantly, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “You seem to be the only one here who isn’t causing a ruckus.”

Dynazenon chuckled again, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a small but genuine smile. She’s different from the others, he realized. Not trying to impress anyone, not trying to tear me down. Just… herself.

“This isn’t the type of scene that would rile me up,” he said with a wry grin, trying to mask the vulnerability behind his words. Dahyun tilted her head, intrigued. “Oh, and what kind of place would make you?”

“An arena,” Dynazenon replied without hesitation, surprising even himself with the ease of his answer.

Dahyun raised her eyebrows, intrigued even more. An athlete, she mused, noting the way he carried himself. He was built strong, steady, like a warrior, but there was a tension in him that suggested a readiness to explode at any moment. He’s not just reserved—there’s a fire in him. A controlled one, but it’s there.

“Oh, an athlete who’s also reserved. I like it,” she teased, plucking another piece of food from his plate.

Dynazenon watched her with mild amusement. She’s bold. Unafraid. And she doesn’t seem to care about whatever reputation I’ve built up. He was used to people either avoiding him or outright challenging him, but Dahyun was neither. She was just… present. It was a strange but welcome feeling.

He glanced at her, studying her expression. There was a genuine interest in her eyes, not the cold curiosity of someone trying to measure his worth, but rather the warmth of someone simply trying to understand. Maybe she’s different from the others, he thought, allowing himself to lower his guard just a bit more. Maybe she’s not looking for a fight, not judging me for who I’ve been labeled to be.

Dahyun, on her part, found herself growing more intrigued by Dynazenon. He’s like a puzzle, she thought, calm on the surface but there’s so much going on underneath. The way he moves, the way he talks—it’s like he’s always ready for something to go wrong, like he’s bracing himself for the next attack. But he doesn’t seem hostile. Just… watchful.

She could sense the quiet storm within him, the anger that simmered just beneath his calm exterior. But instead of being repelled by it, she found herself wanting to understand him more. He’s someone who’s been burned before, someone who doesn’t trust easily, she realized. But there’s more to him than just that anger. He’s watchful, yes, but also protective.

He looked at that girl earlier like he wanted to protect her, even though she clearly doesn’t like him. That says something. The two sat there, in an almost comfortable silence, sharing the plate of food without any need for more words. Despite the noise of the hall, the clamor of people around them, there was a strange sense of peace between them. It was rare for Dynazenon to feel this way, especially around strangers, but with Dahyun, there was no pressure to perform, no need to prove himself.

I could get used to this, Dynazenon thought as he glanced at her, feeling a small sense of relief. Maybe not everyone here is out to judge me. Maybe some people are just… like her. Maybe some people are worth letting in.

Dahyun smiled softly, sensing his quiet acceptance of her presence. He’s not as cold as he seems. Just careful. That’s okay. I can work with care, she thought, feeling the beginnings of a friendship in the making.

As they sat quietly Dynazenon heard a yelp for help. It was Wonhee’s voice at first he ignored it until he heard “I don't want this. go away!” much clearer. he turned away from Dahyun and said,

“I am sorry but my Bratty sister may be in trouble please excuse me while I go find her. As Dynazenon looks for Wonhee he sheds the timidness and hesitation its time for action. Dahyun watched Dynazenon with fascination from across the room. The apprentice Codex Keeper who had seemed awkward and unsure of himself was gone, replaced by someone entirely different. Where did this confidence come from? she wondered, her curiosity growing. He moved like a predator now, a lion on the hunt, and despite the danger, Dahyun found herself drawn to him. He’s not like the others. They put on masks and talk in circles, but he’s different. She remembered their earlier conversation—the way he had smiled at her, genuinely, without pretense. Even now, he’s thinking of someone else, Dahyun realized. His focus wasn’t on making a spectacle or proving himself; it was on protecting the girl. There’s something noble in that, she thought. But when she saw the surge of purple energy around him, a knot of worry tightened in her chest. That power—does he even know what he’s doing? She felt a strange sense of both awe and concern for Dynazenon. He was unlike anyone she had met before, and despite the uncertainty swirling around him, Dahyun couldn’t help but think, Maybe I was right to approach him. There’s something more to him, something worth seeing through.

He walks through the crowd ambivalent to the stares he received. As Dynazenon moved through the crowd, responding to Wonhee’s cry, Lorgar observed his apprentice with a mixture of pride and apprehension. He moves decisively now. No hesitation, no second-guessing, Lorgar thought, watching Dynazenon shed the timidness that had plagued him earlier. But will he control his power, or will his emotions overwhelm him again? Lorgar had seen this before—an apprentice at the cusp of greatness, yet held back by inner conflict. The purple energy swirling around Dynazenon gave him pause. He’s tapping into his psionics and magic without realizing it. If he doesn’t master this soon, it could consume him. Despite his concerns, Lorgar couldn’t deny that there was raw potential in his apprentice, but potential was a double-edged sword. Magnus saw something in him, but I wonder if even my brother understands the fire he’s lit.

As he was searching he bumped into the codex keeper Son. Dynazenon apologized for spilling his drink as he kept searching for Wonhee. Son was surprised to see Doflamingo at this ceremony and said “Wait a minute there cowboy. Whats got you in a hurry?” “I was asked by Lady Sunshine to watch her apprentice, and I have lost track of her.”

Hearing the ward witch’s name caused Son to immediately back off. He wanted no part of the lady who had melted a dude’s spine with just her magic. So Dynazenon was able to continue his search. Lady Sunshine, standing next to Lorgar, noticed the subtle shift in Dynazenon’s demeanor, and it worried her. There’s that anger again, simmering just beneath the surface. She had seen it earlier when she used True Sight on him, a coiling fury masked by a facade of restraint. It’s only a matter of time before it boils over.

What then? As she watched him push past Codex Keeper Son without a second thought, Lady Sunshine’s thoughts turned to her own apprentice, Wonhee. He feels responsible for her, even if he calls her a brat. But can he protect her without losing control? Sunshine could feel Dynazenon’s power expanding, raw and untempered, as he moved with purpose. He’s strong, but unstable. Is it enough to trust that he’ll grow into this power, or are we letting a dragon loose in a world unprepared for it? Her concern for Dynazenon was mixed with admiration—there was something undeniably captivating about his defiance, even in the face of danger. He reminds me of Orion. Full of rage and strength but always teetering on the edge. One wrong step and…

Eventually, he found her…alone with Valence. Wonhee appeared in distress. He calmly put a shoulder on Valence telling him to leave her alone. Valence undeterred used his psionics and pushed the apprentice aside Dynzenon crashed through the door as the energy flung him outside into a crowd of onlookers including Aragorn. Dynazenon had to make a choice.

He could ignore the situation and let Wonhee fend for herself. Or he could fight.

“You would abandon your charge to live easier.” something inside him challenged

“You know Valence only responds to force and you have were given the power to protect those like Wonhee from people like him.” the voice inside of Dynazenon added. Dynazenon hesitated until then voice said “If you don't stop Valence here you are no better than everyone else who gives into him and enables him. You are no hero just a coward.” the voice growls inside of him.

As Dynazenon confronted Valence and found himself flung across the room, Lorgar and Lady Sunshine both felt a spike of tension. Lorgar’s fists tightened at his sides. He’s lost control again. Why can’t he just rein it in? Yet as he saw his apprentice surrounded by Codex Masters with their swords pointed at his throat, Lorgar felt a flicker of understanding. He’s protecting someone. He’s angry, yes, but that anger comes from somewhere deeper—a need to shield others from harm. Lorgar’s initial anger began to fade, replaced by a begrudging respect. Maybe he’s not so different from how I was at his age.

Lorgar and Lady Sunshine hear the growl from Dynazenon and watch as streaks of Purple energy swirl and arc around him as he races across the hall. The hear a light commotion as they race to him having seen most of everything. By the time they reach him Dynazenon is surrounded by 5 Codex masters swords pointed at his throat and a pummeled Valence on the ground with a crying Wonhee.

Lady Sunshine, however, remained on edge. This is exactly what I was afraid of. He can’t just fight his way through every problem. Seeing the bruised and crying Wonhee only amplified her concerns. But he did what he thought was right. He acted when no one else did. Sunshine glanced at Lorgar, hoping he understood the gravity of the situation. If we don’t teach him to channel this power, this anger… it’s only a matter of time before it consumes him, or worse, destroys him. Lorgar looked upon his pupil angrily.

“What did I tell you?” he demanded

Dynazenon still caught in his fury and fervor responded in equal measure, “I can't remember I was too busy watching over this brat.” he yelled gesturing to Wonhee.

Lorgar took a moment and pieced the scene together as did Lady Sunshine. They calmed down and asked Dynazenon what happened. From her vantage point, Dahyun saw the full display of Dynazenon’s power—and his vulnerability. She watched as he fought, not just against Valence, but against the expectations, the judgment of those around him, and perhaps, most of all, his own self-doubt.

He didn’t care that the entire room was watching. He acted. And as the scene unfolded, she found herself more intrigued than ever by Dynazenon. I knew there was more to him than he let on. He’s not just powerful—he’s dangerous in a way that excites me. Despite her concern, Dahyun couldn’t help but smile faintly. I think I’ll stick around and see what happens next.

This expanded scene provides more depth to the internal thoughts of Lorgar, Lady Sunshine, and Dahyun as they observe Dynazenon’s actions, highlighting their differing perspectives—Lorgar’s cautious respect, Sunshine’s concern mixed with admiration, and Dahyun’s growing fascination with Dynazenon’s unique combination of power and vulnerability.

The next day Dynazenon sat uncomfortably in front of internal affairs. He sat in terrified silence as he awaited his turn. In the office Wonhee sat retelling her side of the story

Aragorn sat behind his desk, his gaze piercing as he observed the young apprentice before him. The room was dimly lit, the stone walls of the Codex Keepers’ headquarters giving the space an air of quiet authority. His fingers steepled under his chin, Aragorn’s eyes rested on Wonhee, who sat opposite him. She looked nervous, but there was a steely determination beneath her surface.

“Wonhee,” Aragorn began, his voice deep and measured. “I need you to explain to me, in your own words, what happened during the incident with Valence and Dynazenon.”

Wonhee shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unsure of how much to reveal. She had been dreading this conversation, knowing that Valence was Aragorn’s prized apprentice. But she also knew she couldn’t lie about what had happened. Taking a deep breath, she began, her voice steady but low.

“Throughout the night, I was trying to avoid Dynazenon,” she admitted, her eyes flicking up to meet Aragorn’s. “Lady Sunshine had asked him to keep an eye on me, and… I didn’t like that. It felt stifling. I know Dynazenon meant well, but I didn’t want to be constantly watched.” Aragorn listened carefully, his expression unreadable. So this wasn’t Dynazenon failing his task by negligence, he thought. She was deliberately trying to escape him.

“I tried to find spaces where he wasn’t watching me,” Wonhee continued, “places where I could just… breathe. Eventually, I came across a room at the back of the hall where Valence was.”

At the mention of his apprentice, Aragorn’s gaze sharpened, but he said nothing. He gestured for her to continue, his face a stoic mask.

“At first, I didn’t think anything of it,” Wonhee said, her voice faltering slightly. “Valence is one of the senior apprentices, and I figured it would be safe to be around him. But… he wasn’t acting the way I expected.” She hesitated, clearly reluctant to speak ill of someone under Aragorn’s tutelage. Aragorn remained still, his mind racing as he observed the unease in her body language. Valence… what did you do?

“Go on,” Aragorn said quietly, his tone encouraging but firm. Wonhee swallowed hard, then spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “He… made a move on me. I told him I didn’t want it, and I tried to fight him off, but he wouldn’t stop. I kept telling him to leave me alone, but he wasn’t listening.”

Her hands clenched in her lap, her eyes clouded with the memory of fear. Aragorn’s jaw tightened, but he still didn’t react outwardly. Valence had been one of my most promising students, he thought. Why didn’t I see this?

“I was trying to push him away when Dynazenon came in,” Wonhee said, her voice growing stronger. “He didn’t hesitate for a second. He told Valence to leave me alone, but Valence… he didn’t back down. He used his psionics to throw Dynazenon across the room.”

Aragorn’s brow furrowed. The fact that Valence had resorted to violence against a fellow apprentice was shocking enough, but the deeper implications were unsettling. What has Valence been hiding from me? “But Dynazenon… he didn’t stop,” Wonhee continued. “Even after being thrown across the room, he got up and came back. I could feel his anger, but it wasn’t just rage. It was like… he was protecting me, like he was doing what he thought was right.”

Wonhee paused, looking down at her hands. “I’ve never seen anything like it. He was furious, but his anger wasn’t reckless. He pummeled Valence to the ground, but I don’t think he would’ve killed him. He was… controlled, even though it didn’t seem that way.”

Aragorn sat back in his chair, his mind whirling. Controlled rage, he thought. That’s not something I would have associated with Dynazenon before. I had heard the rumors—his instability, his unorthodox methods—but this…

The silence in the room thickened as Aragorn processed her words. He had always viewed Dynazenon with suspicion, especially after hearing of his volatile nature and his tendency to challenge authority. But what Wonhee was describing was different. It wasn’t a display of raw power for its own sake—it was the actions of someone protecting another, someone who couldn’t stand by and watch an injustice unfold.

“Do you believe,” Aragorn asked after a long pause, “that Dynazenon acted out of duty? Or was it something else?”

Wonhee met Aragorn’s gaze and nodded. “I think he acted because he felt responsible for me. He was watching over me all night, even when I didn’t want him to. And when he heard me in trouble, he didn’t hesitate.” Aragorn leaned forward, his hands resting on the desk. “And Valence… how did he respond?”

Wonhee’s face darkened. “Valence didn’t care. He only backed down when Dynazenon forced him to. If it hadn’t been for Dynazenon, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

Aragorn nodded slowly, a heavy weight settling in his chest. He had trusted Valence with so much, and now that trust had been shattered. But what troubled him more was the fact that he had misjudged Dynazenon so completely.

For so long, Aragorn had viewed Dynazenon as a potential threat—a wild card who might disrupt the order of the Codex Keepers. But now, seeing him through Wonhee’s eyes, he realized there was far more to the apprentice than he had initially believed. Dynazenon wasn’t just a reckless force; he was driven by something deeper, something Aragorn hadn’t fully appreciated before.

“Thank you, Wonhee,” Aragorn said quietly, his voice softer than before. “You’ve given me much to think about.” Wonhee nodded and rose to leave. But before she exited the room, Aragorn called her back.

“One last thing,” he said, his voice laced with a newfound respect. “What do you think of Dynazenon now?”

Wonhee hesitated, then answered firmly. “He saved me. I don’t know him well, but I know this—he’s someone I’d want watching my back.” Aragorn nodded, watching her leave. He sat alone in his office, the weight of the night’s events pressing down on him. Dynazenon… perhaps I was wrong about you. The image of Dynazenon standing over Valence, surrounded by Codex Masters with swords at his throat, flashed in his mind.

For the first time, Aragorn began to see the apprentice not as a loose cannon, but as someone who might just be necessary for the future of the Codex Keepers. Someone capable of protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves.

He’s dangerous, Aragorn thought, but perhaps that’s exactly what we need.

After dismissing the ward witch, Aragorn brought in Dynazenon. He activated his true sight at its highest capacity, carefully observing the young man as he entered. Dynazenon walked in, nervous but resolute, and Aragorn immediately noted how much calmer his aura was compared to their previous encounters. It surprised him when the first words out of Dynazenon’s mouth were an apology.

“I’m sorry for ruining the night,” Dynazenon said earnestly.

Aragorn waved it off. “Your apology, while appreciated, isn’t necessary.

I’ve spoken with Codex Keeper Son, Ward Witch Wonhee, and Dahyun. Their accounts of your actions were surprisingly noble. You won’t be punished or admonished for what happened with my apprentice, but I do have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

Dynazenon nodded silently, bracing himself for the interrogation. “The first question is simple,” Aragorn began, “why did you attack my pupil?”

Dynazenon let out a sigh, considering his words. “While I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, your pupil was suspiciously close to Wonhee, and she was crying. I could have taken more time to assess the situation, but… with Wonhee being underage, I couldn’t take the risk.”

Aragorn nodded at this explanation. Dynazenon’s words were honest, but Aragorn could sense he was still holding something back. “How did you know Wonhee isn’t of age?” Aragorn pressed. “Her cultural markings aren’t complete,” Dynazenon answered without hesitation. “The small crescents on her cheeks would be full lunar marks if she were fully of age.”

Again, a truthful answer—but Aragorn felt something deeper being concealed. He studied Dynazenon’s calm yet guarded demeanor. There was something else, a hidden part of this young man that Dynazenon was not revealing.

“You’re hiding something,” Aragorn stated, his voice steady but probing. “Something important. I can’t help you unless you’re honest with me.” Dynazenon hesitated for a long moment before answering. “There’s a part of me that isn’t normal. It pushes me to act, especially when others hesitate. You saw a glimpse of it last night—that purple energy.”

Aragorn’s eyes widened slightly. “That wasn’t psionics or magic?” Dynazenon shook his head. “I can’t do either, but this part of me can mimic their effects.”

At first, controlling this force proved difficult for Dynazenon. It was insatiable, relentless in its desire to grow and overpower everything else. As Dynazenon spoke, small arcs of purple energy began to dance around him, filling the room with a subtle but palpable charge. Aragorn, ever the scholar, watched intently as the energy flowed, listening to its hum. “Never be afraid. Never cower. Protect. Fight. Win,” Aragorn heard in Dynazenon’s voice, but the words came from the energy itself. However, in the darker swirls of the power, Aragorn heard something else. “Purge weakness. Fell the tyrant. Crush evil.”

Aragorn turned his gaze toward Dynazenon, who seemed unaware of the dual nature of his power, merely guiding it without fully understanding its origins. This was not ordinary aura manipulation or psionics; this was something ancient and dangerous. Aragorn marveled at the potential, but also sensed the deep risks associated with it. “Withdraw your power,” Aragorn commanded gently.

Dynazenon obeyed, and the energy swiftly retreated back into him. Aragorn watched as the young man calmed, the air still buzzing faintly with the residual power.

“You’re an unsettling individual,” Aragorn said thoughtfully. “But unsettling might be exactly what we need right now. I foresee a rift forming within the Codex Keepers. Many of them view their position as nothing more than a status symbol, a stepping stone to greater influence. While the role may grant that, it was never meant to be glorified in such a way.” Aragorn paused, reflecting on the implications of what he was about to offer. “It may be too late for my own apprentice, but not for you. Come to this office on your off days, and I will help you master both your power and your soul. They seem to be intrinsically tied.”

Dynazenon was taken aback. “Oh, um… okay, sir.”

“Please, enough with the formalities,” Aragorn rebuked gently. “Aragorn is fine.”

Dynazenon nodded, still processing the unexpected offer as he left the office. Aragorn sat back, contemplating the conversation and what it meant for the future of the Codex Keepers. Meanwhile, outside the office…

Valence had been listening from the shadows, his face twisted in barely contained rage. His master—his master—had just praised that nobody, that whelp, Dynazenon, as if he were some rising star. Noble? Heroic? Valence’s fists clenched as his pulse quickened, his thoughts racing. Since when does Aragorn praise someone like that?

Valence’s pride, already bruised from his earlier confrontation with Dynazenon, now boiled over into a seething resentment. He had been Aragorn’s chosen apprentice for years, mastering manipulation, subtlety, and psionics, yet Aragorn had never spoken of him in the same glowing terms he used for Dynazenon. It stung. Deeply.

I’ve proven myself time and again, and for what? To be cast aside for a novice? he thought bitterly.

The praise Dynazenon received felt like a slap in the face. Valence had always been careful to maintain an air of composure, but he could feel that facade slipping. He needed to do something. His grip tightened as he replayed the conversation in his head. Then, a dark thought came to him—a memory.

Charlemagne, the newly appointed Loremaster of Diplomacy, had recently approached him. Charlemagne had whispered of opportunities, of a mentorship that focused on expanding political power rather than psionic mastery. Charlemagne’s offer had seemed redundant at the time, given Aragorn’s already formidable guidance. But now… Valence felt a sudden surge of temptation.

Why continue to chase after Aragorn’s approval when Charlemagne has already seen my potential? Valence thought, his anger slowly morphing into cold calculation. Charlemagne’s offer had been enticing, the chance to learn how to influence and manipulate the political landscape, to be a true master of the Codex Keepers’ hidden power structures. He could feel the pull. Where Aragorn seemed to drift toward idealism, Charlemagne embodied ruthless ambition. Valence’s lip curled as he considered his options.

If Aragorn wants Dynazenon, he can have him. But when the time comes, I’ll be the one pulling the strings behind the scenes, not some glorified apprentice.

Valence straightened up, his decision made. He would meet with Charlemagne. Let Dynazenon bask in Aragorn’s favor for now. It wouldn’t last forever.

Absolutely! Here’s the expanded scene detailing Dynazenon’s training regimen under Lorgar and Aragorn, highlighting the different but equally taxing challenges he faces:

The first week of training under both Lorgar and Aragorn was grueling for Dynazenon. From the moment the sun broke the horizon, it felt like he was thrown into a tempest of knowledge and physical demands. Each day began with Lorgar, the stern but wise master of combat and strategy. The mornings were cold and quiet, the only sound the rustling of leaves as Dynazenon arrived at the training grounds. Lorgar stood there, a towering figure clad in battle-worn armor, his eyes sharp and assessing. “Today, we focus on the mind and body,” he announced, a glint of determination in his voice.

Dynazenon would spend hours honing his combat techniques, practicing his footwork and stances against Lorgar’s relentless onslaught. Each strike felt like it held a lesson; each dodge tested his reflexes. “You must learn to predict your opponent’s moves,” Lorgar instructed, his voice a low growl. “Combat is not just physical; it’s a mental game.” After sparring, the training shifted to psionic exercises, where Lorgar pushed Dynazenon to connect with his energy, to visualize the flow of power within him. “Feel it,” Lorgar urged, “and direct it. Your emotions can become your greatest weapon, but they can also be your downfall. Control is essential.”

Dynazenon often found himself drained, both physically and mentally, as he grappled with the challenges of combat and the complexities of harnessing his abilities. Lorgar was relentless, demanding not only skill but also a deeper understanding of the art of war. As the afternoon sun reached its zenith, Dynazenon shifted gears to study under Aragorn. Here, the focus was entirely different. The air was thick with the smell of parchment and ink, and the sound of quills scratching against paper filled the room. “Knowledge is power,” Aragorn would declare, his tone both firm and encouraging. “Understanding the cultures you will interact with is paramount. Respect and knowledge go hand in hand.”

The hours spent in the library felt endless as Dynazenon immersed himself in various cultural practices, rites, and rituals. He learned the importance of customs, how to navigate complex social landscapes without causing offense. Each text was filled with the intricacies of different societies, their histories woven together like a tapestry. Next came penmanship and transcription lessons. Dynazenon struggled with his handwriting, the letters sometimes slanting awkwardly on the page. “Clarity and precision are crucial,” Aragorn reminded him, patiently guiding his hand as they worked through the intricacies of transcription. “You are not just writing; you are preserving knowledge. Treat it with the respect it deserves.”

Evenings were reserved for training with Lady Sunshine and Wonhee. Here, the atmosphere shifted again; the lessons were filled with creativity and emotional depth. Lady Sunshine taught him about the art of healing, using magic to mend not just the physical but also the emotional wounds of others. “Empathy is a healer’s greatest asset,” she would say, her voice soothing yet firm.

Wonhee, eager to learn alongside him, encouraged Dynazenon’s creativity. They practiced spells together, trying to shape their energies into tangible forms. “Focus your intent,” she advised, her own aura glowing brightly as she demonstrated. The exercises were not only exhausting but also mentally taxing, pushing Dynazenon to connect with his emotions on a deeper level.

And then there were his off hours, where Dynazenon would seek out Aragorn, his interest in the esoteric abilities pulling him into a different realm of training. Aragorn’s lessons were enigmatic, often filled with riddles and ancient philosophies that challenged Dynazenon’s understanding of power and purpose. “The true nature of your abilities lies beyond the surface,” Aragorn would say, his voice a melodic whisper. They would delve into the arcane, exploring concepts that felt both exhilarating and overwhelming. Each session left Dynazenon feeling as though he were standing on the edge of a great abyss, the potential of his powers both thrilling and terrifying.

By the end of the week, Dynazenon was a walking testament to exhaustion. His body ached from the physical training, his mind buzzed with the weight of all he had learned, and his spirit felt stretched thin as he grappled with the demands of his multifaceted training. Each master presented their lessons in unique ways, but they were united in their expectations of him. The knowledge and skills he was acquiring were like building blocks, each day adding more weight and complexity to his growing foundation. As he collapsed into bed each night, he felt the weight of a world opening before him—a world filled with potential, danger, and the promise of becoming something greater than himself. The three masters convened in the Lorgar’s Office, the air thick with the weight of their discussions. Lorgar leaned against the table, arms crossed tightly, his expression taut with concern. Lady Sunshine sat with an air of calm, her fingers gently tracing the rim of her cup. Aragorn paced thoughtfully, the light from the tall windows casting long shadows across the floor.

“Dynazenon’s progress has been nothing short of remarkable,” Lady Sunshine began, her voice warm with admiration. “He’s adapting to the teachings and has shown incredible skill in combat and the arcane arts. It’s as if he’s a natural.”

“Natural or not,” Lorgar interjected, his voice edged with frustration, “I can’t shake this feeling of worry. He hasn’t manifested any psionic or magical runes yet. Despite his potential, without those foundational skills, how far can he truly go?”

Aragorn stopped his pacing and turned to Lorgar, an understanding look in his eyes. “You’re right to be concerned, but let’s not overlook what he has achieved. He’s shown the ability to learn quickly, but his psionic and magical runes haven’t appeared yet. That doesn’t mean he won’t be able to manifest them in time.”

Lorgar shook his head. “It’s not just a matter of time. It’s about understanding the core of what he is. My psionic mastery runes took years to develop, and they serve as a foundation for my skills. Without his runes, Dynazenon could falter when faced with true adversity. His growth is impressive, but it feels incomplete.”

“He’s been pushing himself nonstop for eight months,” Lady Sunshine added thoughtfully, her brow slightly furrowed. “Most apprentices hit a wall at eight weeks, at which point we usually give them their first break. Dynazenon? He hasn’t stopped once. Not even to catch his breath.” Aragorn nodded, his expression one of slight disbelief. “That’s the truly shocking part. The fact that he’s just now showing signs of exhaustion is… unprecedented. His stamina—physical, mental, and spiritual—is beyond anything I’ve seen. Eight months without pause, and he only now seems to be feeling the weight of it?”

Lorgar looked between the two, the concern in his eyes deepening. “It worries me. Not because of his dedication, but because he hasn’t hit that limit sooner. Most apprentices need that wall to humble them, to teach them the value of recovery and reflection. It’s during those moments of exhaustion that they grow the most—where they learn their limits and build their foundation. What if he’s avoiding that crucial stage by sheer force of will?”

“Or perhaps,” Aragorn suggested, “his limits are simply different. His capacity for pushing himself might be far beyond what we’re used to seeing.”

Lady Sunshine nodded slowly. “True, but even so, it’s concerning. If he doesn’t learn to recognize his own limits, he risks burning out in far more destructive ways. We’ve never seen an apprentice push for this long without proper rest. And now, after eight months, if he’s finally starting to hit that wall, what kind of toll has it already taken on him?” “Exactly,” Lorgar agreed. “His physical training, the cultural lessons, the constant practice—he’s been relentless. But without the manifestation of his psionic or magical runes, I can’t help but feel he’s overcompensating. It’s as if he’s trying to break through by sheer force, instead of letting the process happen naturally.”

Aragorn stopped pacing and looked directly at Lorgar. “You’re not wrong to be worried. But I think there’s something more going on. Dynazenon is tapping into a power that transcends the normal. While he hasn’t yet unlocked the traditional runes of psionics or magic, he’s harnessing something deeper. His soul is channeling energy in ways we haven’t fully understood.”

Lady Sunshine leaned forward, intrigued. “What do you mean? Are you suggesting he’s accessing a different kind of power?” “Yes,” Aragorn confirmed, nodding thoughtfully. “He’s channeling what I’ve tentatively named ‘Palladics.’ This energy comes from his soul rather than the heart or the mind. It’s ancient and primal, enabling him to achieve feats that even seasoned masters struggle with.” “But if he’s focusing solely on this Palladics power,” Lorgar pressed, “what does that mean for his potential in psionics or magic? If his runes don’t manifest, he risks being unable to handle situations that require those specific skills.”

“Indeed,” Aragorn agreed. “And it’s crucial that he learns to balance this newfound power with the traditional arts. We must guide him to explore his psionic abilities while still nurturing his talents in magic.” Lady Sunshine spoke softly but with conviction. “Lorgar, you have to remember that Dynazenon’s journey is uniquely his own. Just because he hasn’t manifested his runes yet doesn’t diminish his promise. Instead of comparing him to your own path, consider how you can support him.” Lorgar took a deep breath, rubbing his temples as he processed their words. “I just fear he may become reliant on this Palladics power and neglect the foundational skills he needs to survive in the world. He may need psionic abilities to navigate the political landscape or combat situations that require more than raw power.”

“Then we must be vigilant,” Aragorn asserted. “It’s our responsibility to ensure he doesn’t overlook those vital skills. Encourage him to train in psionics and magic alongside his unique abilities. We can help him forge a path that incorporates all aspects of his potential.”

The next morning Dynozenon woke up and all of his accumulated fatigue Finally hit him. He sighed and forced himself up. When he wanted nothing more to go back to bed and back to his dream about Dahyun. He remembered she should be coming back today after completing an expedition so he'd have to sneak her in. As he went through his morning routine however he just decided that he was done not taking care of himself and earned the break. so he went to his master and said, "I am sorry boss but I need some semblance of time off. So I am taking it now and will be off for the next month. I am fried, burnt out, and fraying at the edges."

Lorgar smiled and said, "I am surprised it took you this long. Most apprentices hit this point at 8 weeks, and you're doing three times the work. Enjoy your time off." Doflamingo nodded and went out for the day to wait for Dahyun at the port she was supposed to come into. Doflamingo arrived at Dahyun’s predicted port of landing where he waited Doflamingo stood at the edge of the bustling spaceport, his arms crossed, scanning the crowd for any sign of Dahyun. The hum of transport shuttles, the clatter of footsteps, and the murmur of travelers swirled around him, but his mind was elsewhere—sifting through the whirlwind of the past year.

Eight months of training, he thought. He had thrown himself into everything—cultural studies, combat, the relentless lessons with Lorgar and Aragorn. The weight of those hours spent poring over ancient rites, the burn in his muscles from endless combat sessions, and the heavy silence in the moments when his psionic runes still refused to manifest. And yet, in all of it, there was a deep sense of purpose. He had come so far, but why did he still feel… incomplete?

He glanced at the chronometer ticking down, noting how much time had passed since his first meeting with Dahyun. She had come into his life unexpectedly, and somehow, the quiet moments he shared with her had become the still points in the chaos. Her energy balanced his own in ways that he couldn’t have anticipated. And yet, he wondered how she saw him now. Did she understand the battles he fought—the one against Valence, the struggle within himself to master powers that didn’t fit into any category? He sighed.

The past year had also brought some revelations that he wasn’t sure how to process. The talk with Aragorn about his soul’s power still rattled in his mind. Palladics. A power tied not to the heart or mind, but to the core of his very being—his soul. He didn’t even fully understand what it meant, only that it felt more natural than magic or psionics, and yet somehow more dangerous. It was a part of him, ancient and fierce, a force that whispered of both creation and destruction. No wonder it unnerved even the Codex Keepers.

He thought of the conversations with Lorgar and Lady Sunshine, their concerns over his progress, the discussions about how he’d hit the wall only now—months after most apprentices had. He’d been pushing himself harder than anyone, and now, finally, it was starting to catch up to him. His body ached in ways that weren’t purely physical. His soul—his power—was demanding more, straining against the limits of his mortal frame. And yet, here he was, waiting at a spaceport, feeling as though all that progress had yet to manifest in the ways he wanted. Was he cursed was he doomed by fate?

Through it all, though, Dahyun had been a constant presence. He thought of their first meeting, her teasing confidence as she stole food from his plate. The ease with which they had slipped into a rhythm, unspoken, effortless. He didn’t feel like he had to prove anything to her; she just saw him, and in a way that didn’t demand answers or power. That was something no training could provide.

The doors of the spaceport hissed open, and a familiar figure stepped through. Dahyun, looking as calm and composed as ever, though her eyes sparkled with that same curiosity that had intrigued him from the beginning.

Doflamingo’s heart beat a little faster, but he kept his expression neutral, only allowing a small smile to break through. It’s been a year, he thought, and somehow, I still don’t know where this path is leading me. Dahyun spotted him and waved, her pace quickening slightly as she weaved through the crowd. As she approached, he straightened, taking in the reality of the moment. For all the uncertainty, for all the questions swirling in his head, one thing remained clear: he wasn’t walking this path alone.

Dahyun smiled as she approached Doflamingo. “You look tired,” she teased. Doflamingo nodded and said, “I am” Dahyun laughed and said, “Well you chose this life,” Doflamingo nodded as he walked with Dahyun.

“So I take it you are off for the time being?” she asked and Doflamingo nodded.

“Yeah for now. What about you?”

Dahyun nodded as she took Dracual’s arm in hers. She leans in closer to him and asks“ How's the training been?”

“It's been tiring but I feel good about the work I am doing.” Dahyun smiled then said, “I heard Valence graduated earlier. How do you feel about it?”

Doflamingo smiled at Dahyun and said, “I am unsure but nothing I think really matters in this regard, but right now I'm not Dynazenon. I am Doflamingo and I'm here for my friend Dahyun.” Dahyun smiled at Doflamingo’s simplicity.

“Well, then it's a good thing I'm off too.” The couple arrives at Dahyun’s home a little later. Following their arrival at Dahyun’s home, Doflamingo can feel the weight of his exhaustion begin to ease in the comfort of her space. They settle in, slipping into an easy rhythm as they prepare tea and sit by the window, looking out at the quiet, star-strewn night beyond.

As they talk, Dahyun senses something unspoken in him, a tension that the recent months of relentless training haven’t erased. She gently nudges him to open up, and gradually, he shares his uncertainties: about his progress, his stalled psionic abilities, and the recent revelation from Aragorn about his “Palladics”—a power he barely understands. Dahyun listens with a quiet intensity, absorbing his worries without judgment. She notices he hesitates a bit when talking about everything but she chalks it up to nerves. She reassures him that he doesn’t have to figure everything out all at once. She reminds him of the growth he’s achieved and the lives he’s impacted—especially hers. “Sometimes,” she says, “strength isn’t about conquering powers or mastering abilities. Sometimes it’s about allowing yourself to just be.”

Doflamingo nodded as Dahyun leaned into him. That was until he heard the chime of the emergency service alert. Dahyun watches as Doflamingo’s countenance drastically changes with a sad knowingness. He gets up and Silently says to himself,

“So it begins,” he turns to Dahyun and says,

“Hey, so I am going to be gone for a while. If in the slim statistical chance, we don't see each other again. I have liked you for some time and after I am back I'd love to go out with you on a date.” Dahyun chuckled and then said,

"What if I want you right here right now?" she asked seductively.

Doflamingo hesitated until Dahyun got up and brought him in for a kiss. she held his face as she brought him in closer. she drank in his vulnerabiltiy and shock as his brain short circuited at her actions.

"You have no idea how long I have waited to do that,"

Doflamingo blinked as he felt an unfamiliar heat swell within his body, before kissing Dahyun back. She melted into his touch as she happily let his tongue invade her mouth. Spit and moans swapped between their mouths as new sensations drove them to new expressions of intimacy. Sadly, this couldn't last as Dahyun got another call. Doflamingo sighed before getting up and leaving.

"See you around," he said sadly.

The next day, Chowon walked through the busy hangar bay, her face glowing with excitement at the call she’d received for the peace expedition to Theros. Just as she turned the corner, she collided with a large figure, solid and unmoving. She looked up, taking in the man’s towering height, his mechanized helmet obscuring his face and an ethereal, faintly shimmering cape draped over his broad shoulders.

“Oh! Sorry for running into you,” she said, tilting her head up with a cheerful smile. Her eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity and friendliness as she gazed at him, her optimism shining through.

The man hesitated, momentarily taken aback by the warmth radiating from her. He’d grown used to people reacting to him with caution or fear, but her openness seemed to reach him, cracking the armor around his heart just a little.

“No, ma’am, the apology should be from me. I wasn’t paying attention and bumped into you,” he responded, his voice deep and modulated by the mechanized system in his helmet, hiding the softer tone beneath.

Chowon smiled wider. “Well, let’s both share the blame, since I wasn’t looking either.” She extended a hand, a gesture so simple yet sincere. “I’m Chowon. What’s your name?”

For a moment, he was silent. No one had asked him his name with such genuine interest in… well, he couldn’t remember how long. “My name is… Dyna,” he finally replied.

Chowon’s face lit up, her joy pure and unguarded. “Well, Dyna, can we be friends?”

The words struck him. Friends? He glanced down at her outstretched hand and hesitantly reached out, clasping her hand in his. Her grip was small but strong, and as he shook her hand, he felt something strange and unexpected—warmth. Despite the cold fury he knew simmered within him, the touch of her hand somehow made him feel safe, as if a spark of kindness had seeped through his armor, however briefly.

The two began walking together, Chowon’s step light and confident. As they moved through the hangar, she looked up at him. “So, Dyna, where are you headed?”

“I’m part of the peace negotiation team for Theros,” he said, his voice carrying a note of quiet strength.

“Oh, really? Me too!” Chowon beamed. “Wouldn’t it be something if we were neighbors on board?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, hidden behind the helmet. Falling into the warmth of her presence, he nodded, “I hope so.”

As they reached her luggage, Chowon stumbled slightly under the weight of one of her bags. Before she could adjust it, Dyna reached down and gently took her bags. “Allow me,” he said, easily lifting them with one hand.

Chowon’s eyes widened, a hint of admiration flashing in them. “Thank you, Dyna! You know, you’re not only strong, but very considerate too.”

Her words, so earnest and unguarded, caused something in him to soften. He’d faced down warriors, stared down foes on the battlefield, and withstood countless harsh words in his lifetime, but this small act of kindness—a simple ‘thank you’ from someone who truly meant it—touched him deeply.

They walked side by side to the embarkation zone, her easy chatter filling the silence. “Have you been on peace expeditions before?” she asked, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity.

“Not quite like this one,” he admitted. “It’s… a different experience.”

“Well,” she said, her voice cheerful yet gentle, “if this is your first peace mission, maybe it’s a sign of good things to come. Peace can be hard, but it’s also worth it, don’t you think?”

Dyna didn’t answer immediately. Her innocent confidence felt strange yet oddly comforting to him. He’d fought so many battles, and believed in power as the only solution, and yet this young, unguarded person spoke of peace like it was a strength in itself.

“Yes,” he said finally, almost to himself. “Maybe it is.”

As they boarded, Chowon looked at him one more time, her smile as bright as a sunrise. “I’m glad we’re on this mission together, Dyna.”

And as he took his place beside her, for the first time in a long time, he felt his icy resolve begin to thaw, the walls around his heart cracking as this girl, with all her innocence and determined hope, unknowingly became a small beacon of warmth in his world.

Jiu and Orion lingered at the entrance, observing the crew they’d be working alongside on this critical expedition to Theros. The lineup was impressive: familiar faces, seasoned in the rigors of psionic and magical arts, filled with names like Lorgar, Lady Sunshine, Magnus the Red, Dahyun, Gahyun along with newer figures like the prodigious Hanni and the ambitious Valence, and Charlemagne. It was the largest gathering of Ward Witches and Codex Keepers Jiu had ever seen for a single mission, and for a moment, she felt a sense of comfort amidst the growing concerns about Theros and the ever-present tensions of peacekeeping.

As Jiu and Orion approached, they exchanged casual greetings with the group. Jiu’s smile brightened when she spotted Lady Sunshine’s new apprentice, Wonhee, a young Ward Witch with a vibrant energy that balanced Lady Sunshine’s calm presence. But there was a conspicuous absence that Jiu immediately noted.

“Hey, where’s Doffy? We’ve heard so much about him,” she asked, turning to Lorgar.

Lorgar gave a brief sigh. “I thought it would be best not to bring him along. His family is on Tikumanjaro, which is currently occupied by Theros. His impartiality would have been compromised.”

Orion nodded, understanding the caution. “That makes sense. You need someone here without personal stakes in this conflict.”

Just as they finished their conversation, a cheerful voice broke through the air.

“Hi, friends!” Chowon called, approaching with a bright smile. She practically bounced toward the group, her youthful energy infectious as she greeted each member enthusiastically, showering them with handshakes and high-fives. Her innocence was palpable, a refreshing lightness that seemed almost out of place amidst the weighty task ahead.

As Chowon reached each person, the group smiled back at her, their usual guarded stances softening in response to her optimism. Even Valence, typically more reserved, couldn’t help but give a small smile when Chowon clasped his hand and gave it an earnest shake. Her confidence and sincerity were endearing, and for a moment, the looming dread of the mission seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of Chowon’s innocent determination.

But behind her, an armored figure approached—a towering, armored presence that immediately caught the group’s attention. Unlike Chowon, who exuded friendliness and hope, the man’s aura was cold, calculated, and undeniably intense. His steps were measured, and his gaze, though obscured by the mechanized helmet, seemed to pierce each of them with a silent, assessing focus. The group tensed, feeling the chilling weight of his aura pressing upon them.

Yet, amid the unease, there was a strange familiarity. Though unsettling, his energy resonated with something they’d felt before, as if they were encountering an echo of a presence they had once known. Lorgar’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying the armored man with newfound curiosity. It wasn’t an exact resemblance, but the sensation of his aura—the particular blend of authority and restrained power—hinted at a depth that wasn’t entirely foreign.

“Who… is that?” Dahyun murmured to Jiu, her voice barely a whisper.

“This is Dyna,” Chowon replied softly. “A psionic and magic mercenary.”

“‘Mercenary’?” Valence echoed, his tone laden with skepticism as he observed the man. The unsettling familiarity of Dyna’s aura gnawed at him, pulling up instincts forged over years of intense training. Where Chowon’s energy had softened the group’s typical defenses, Dyna’s presence was as sharp and chilling as the edge of a blade.

Chowon, oblivious to the group’s discomfort, turned back to Dyna and beckoned him forward, smiling brightly. “Come on, Dyna! These are my new friends. Everyone, this is Dyna. He’ll be joining us on the mission to Theros!”

The group exchanged wary glances, hesitating before responding. Lorgar cleared his throat and managed a nod, though his posture remained tense. He wasn’t sure what unsettled him more—the fact that Dyna felt so completely out of place among the Ward Witches and Codex Keepers or the strange, haunting echo that lingered in his aura, like an old memory surfaced unbiddenly.

“Nice to… meet you, Dyna,” Lorgar finally said, extending a cautious hand. Dyna hesitated, then took it briefly, his grip firm yet cold, the handshake more a formality than any true attempt at camaraderie.

Orion, observing from the sidelines, noted the stark contrast between Chowon and Dyna. Chowon, who was so full of life and warmth, practically radiated optimism, pulling people toward her with effortless charm. Dyna, by contrast, seemed to create a boundary around himself, an invisible line that no one dared to cross. Where Chowon inspired trust, Dyna demanded respect—a respect born not from admiration but from a sense of guarded caution.

Finally, Aragorn leaned in, his voice low but clear. “Chowon, are you certain about Dyna’s participation?”

Chowon beamed at him, oblivious to the undertone of caution in his question. “Absolutely! He’s here to help, just like me. I know he might seem a bit… intense, but he’s good at heart.” She cast an encouraging look back at Dyna, whose silence and cold demeanor had become almost palpable. But there was a flicker of something in his stance—a tiny, unspoken gratitude directed at Chowon as if her presence alone kept his darker nature at bay.

Aragorn’s gaze softened slightly as he saw this, a silent acknowledgment of the bond between them. He still felt the heavy aura around Dyna, but perhaps, he thought, Chowon’s unwavering hope could be what tethered this man to the light.

After introductions, Chowon led Dyna through the ship’s corridors, her chatter filling the air as she commented on the various ship features and the expedition ahead. Dyna walked a step behind, carrying their bags with a silent presence that felt almost protective. As they reached their quarters, Dyna was surprised to find that their rooms were side-by-side. Beneath his mechanized visage, he felt an unanticipated warmth—one he hadn’t expected from this mission or this companion.

With a slight smile hidden under his helmet, Dyna entered his room. He closed the door, set down his helmet, and exhaled, the tension of being “on guard” easing. “Okay,” he murmured to himself, “one day down, sixty-four to go.” The long journey stretched before him, yet for some reason, the thought didn’t feel as daunting as it had before.

A soft knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts. Quickly, he slipped his helmet back on and opened the door. There stood Chowon, her face alight with curiosity, her big eyes brimming with warmth as she leaned casually against the frame.

“So,” she began, a playful glint in her eyes, “what’s your story? Why the helmet?” She tilted her head, studying him with a bright, expectant gaze that seemed to pierce through the cold metallic exterior.

Dyna hesitated, his silence only deepening her curiosity. “My identity can’t be compromised,” he finally replied, his tone carefully neutral. He noticed the slight pout that formed on her lips, amused despite himself.

Chowon shrugged and leaned in, undeterred. “Alright, well… when this is over, I’ll get to see your pretty eyes, right?”

He couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped. “Pretty eyes? No. Tired, maybe. But not pretty.”

Chowon laughed softly, an unforced sound that filled the small space between them. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she replied her tone light, yet her words lingering in a way that tugged at something deeper within him. “Fine, if you won’t tell me about your eyes, then tell me about where you come from. Someone as interesting as you must have an intriguing tale.”

For a moment, Dyna stood silent, his defenses slowly lowering under her genuine curiosity. Despite the countless battles and secrets he carried, talking with her felt… safe. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one that unsettled him yet drew him in. Against his better judgment, he started to talk.

As he shared snippets of his life, carefully choosing his words to protect certain details, Chowon listened intently. She leaned against the doorway, absorbing each word with quiet attentiveness, her gaze never straying from him. He found himself revealing more than he had anticipated—his journey to becoming a mercenary, the worlds he had seen, the hard choices he’d had to make. Her expressions shifted with his words—sometimes wide-eyed with wonder, sometimes soft with empathy.

“Sounds like you’ve been through a lot,” she murmured when he paused, her voice gentle. Her empathy seemed genuine, her gaze softening as if she could see past the layers of armor to the person underneath.

Dyna looked down, the cold metal of his visor masking his momentary vulnerability. “We all have our stories, Chowon,” he replied softly, deflecting with practiced ease. “I’m just one among many.”

Chowon reached out impulsively and placed a hand on his armored forearm, her warmth breaking through the barriers he had so carefully constructed. “Maybe, but you’re here now. And you’re not alone.”

The simplicity of her words stirred something in him, a sense of connection he hadn’t felt in a long time. For a brief moment, the walls he’d put up to keep everyone at a distance seemed less necessary. He wanted to say something more, but the words escaped him.

She withdrew her hand and smiled brightly, stepping back into the hallway. “Good night, Dyna. We’ll be spending a lot of time together, so… get used to me.”

He nodded, watching her retreating form. As she disappeared down the hall, he found himself feeling both exposed and strangely at ease. This journey, it seemed, would not just be about the mission. With Chowon beside him, it might be something more—something that, despite himself, he wasn’t entirely prepared for yet felt he might not want to resist.

Meanwhile, Hanni is busy on her knees.

"Oh fuck Hanni your mouth is so good," Valence moans in his quarters, as his secret paramour's thick lips ride his shaft up and down. For context, Codex Keeper Valence, and Ward Witch Hanni have been in this romantic…no errotic entanglement since they did their first expedition. their little trysts always start out the same. Hanni pouts those thick kissable lips and Valence folds to her whims before finding a private place to satisfy the instaitable little rabbit's cravings. right now it was a desire to swallow his cum so she was slowly bobbing on his shaft gagging and using her luscious lips to wring Valence dry.

"You always taste so fucking good," Hanni commented. Valence smiled as he caressed her face before she went back to sucking him off. He didn't last long as always with lips as excellent as Hanni's and exploded in her mouth. Hanni happily drank his cum.

The expedition set off on what was meant to be a straightforward departure, but barely had they left Terra’s atmosphere when they encountered their first obstacle. A massive armada of Theros fleet ships materialized, blocking their path with an aggressive formation. Alarms blared, and a terse command echoed through the ship: they demanded Lorgar and Orion surrender immediately.

Tensions mounted as the crew gathered on the bridge, each member preparing for the worst. Before anyone could devise a plan, Dyna stepped forward, his presence commanding. In one swift motion, he summoned his weapon, True King’s Legacy, a mighty, arcane spear pulsing with psionic and magical energy. The weapon crackled with raw, controlled power, sending an almost palpable shockwave through the bridge. Chowon’s eyes widened in awe, but the rest of the crew exchanged uneasy glances, their suspicion growing.

With an almost casual gesture, Dyna unleashed a barrage of psionic and magical beams, each shot finding its mark with unerring precision. The beams slammed into the Theros ships, leaving them crippled but intact, their weapon systems and warp drives completely disabled.

A stunned silence settled over the bridge as the crew processed the display of power. They exchanged wary looks, uncertain whether to be impressed or alarmed by Dyna’s precision. His attack had been perfectly controlled, too perfectly controlled. Most mages or psionics, even those with years of training, would struggle to achieve such restraint in the heat of battle, especially against a fleet of this magnitude.

Finally, Lorgar spoke, his voice a careful mix of curiosity and concern. “How did you know you could strike only their weapon systems and drives? That level of control is… rare.”

Dyna met his gaze with a calm confidence. “I practiced,” he replied simply. “I’ve been preparing for this. I’ve known for years that the Theros people might escalate to open war.”

His explanation was direct, yet it did little to settle the suspicion growing in the crew. Chowon, however, looked unfazed, even impressed, her eyes alight with admiration. “Isn’t this great? We have someone powerful and prepared!” Her voice was filled with optimism as she beamed at Dyna, but her enthusiasm was met with uneasy glances.

Orion, watching from the sidelines, narrowed his eyes. Practiced for years? he thought, an unsettling feeling creeping over him. Dyna spoke with a certainty that seemed out of place. What kind of experience did he have to perform such precise, simultaneous attacks on multiple warships?

Dahyun leaned toward Lady Sunshine, her voice a hushed whisper. “Doesn’t it feel like he’s… holding back? Like he’s only showing us a fraction of what he can do?”

Lady Sunshine nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on Dyna, calculating and cautious. “Yes. It’s not just his strength that’s worrying, it’s his familiarity with this type of combat. There’s a difference between being prepared and… expecting war.”

As Chowon’s words tried to dispel the tension, Aragorn stepped forward, his tone both polite and probing. “Dyna, I have to ask—this weapon of yours, True King’s Legacy. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. A weapon that merges psionic and magical energy to such an extent… it’s no ordinary artifact.”

Dyna shrugged off the compliment with a calmness that only raised more questions. “It’s a part of me,” he replied, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. “One learns to master what one is born with.”

The room felt charged with an unspoken suspicion as everyone separated. No one voiced their doubts directly, yet they lingered, casting cautious glances back at Dyna. His power was undeniable, but it felt veiled in secrecy—a mystery that left an uneasy feeling hanging in the air. And while Chowon’s cheerful demeanor eased the immediate tension, her words did little to silence the lingering questions in their minds.

As the days of their journey passed, Dyna and Chowon fell into a natural rhythm, their time together marked by a mix of quiet camaraderie and genuine understanding.

One day In the ship’s common area, Dyna was silently practicing his weapon handling, the weight of True King’s Legacy shifting effortlessly in his hands. Chowon sat nearby, her gaze flickering from her notes to him. He noticed her watching, a bit shy, as if unsure whether to speak up.

He paused mid-swing, lowering the weapon with a smile behind his helmet. “Want to give it a try?”

Chowon’s eyes widened, but she nodded eagerly. Dyna carefully handed her the weapon, guiding her hands to its center. As they went through each stance, Chowon’s laughter filled the air, her usual gentle demeanor tinged with excitement. She stumbled at first, nearly dropping it, but her persistence shone through, and her movements became sharper and more confident with each attempt.

When she finally handed the weapon back, breathless but beaming, Dyna felt a warmth in his chest, admiring the determination she hid beneath her soft exterior.

“It feels alive!” Chowon noted. Dyna mixed and said

“Well, that's because it is. This weapon is the last remnants of the True King Dragons and has now been with me for a very long time.” Dyna explained and to further his point True King transformed into a dragon. It was the size of the weapon roughly but held a regal respect.

Later, in the mess hall, they shared a meal. Chowon listened as Dyna shared tales of past battles, occasionally slipping into a fiery recount of events. His voice would grow passionate, his words carrying weight and conviction. But he’d always pause to check if she was still interested, with a gentle “I’m not boring you, am I?” Chowon would just shake her head, her attention rapt.

In turn, she shared stories of her own, mostly of misunderstood spells, eccentric mentors, and her struggle to make others see past her appearance. Her innocence and genuine curiosity shone through every word, but Dyna could sense her frustration, too—the doubt others cast on her because of her youthful appearance, the constant need to prove herself.

“Sometimes I think no one sees me for what I’m actually capable of,” she admitted softly.

Dyna’s gaze never wavered as he answered, “I see you, Chowon. I see exactly who you are.”

A soft blush rose in her cheeks, but her smile was grateful, her guard lowering with each moment they spent together.

One afternoon, Chowon tried to mend a damaged section of the ship’s barrier on her own. She was muttering to herself, biting her lip as she tried to figure out which spell to use. Dyna watched for a moment, impressed by her concentration and dedication, even if she struggled to recall the exact chant.

He stepped in quietly, saying, “Need some help?”

Together, they worked through the steps, Dyna guiding her with patience and precision. In moments when she’d stumble, he’d gently correct her, his tone never condescending, always encouraging. By the end, she’d mastered the barrier spell, her expression glowing with accomplishment as they watched the barrier solidify.

Chowon looked at him and said, “I’d never have figured it out without you.”

“You would’ve,” he replied simply. “I just helped you see it.”

During a quiet evening in the observation deck, the stars stretching infinitely around them, they sat side by side. Chowon sat worried about the negotiations and had this unending sense of dread. Dyna tried to console her to little avail. Realizing she needed a more personal touch Dyna took off his helmet and sat with the stressed girl. Chowon did a double take seeing his bare face for the first time. Dyna shared his helmet-free reflection on the window’s surface, allowing her a glimpse at his unmasked face for the first time. Chowon didn’t press or comment, simply sitting in quiet solidarity, respecting the intimacy of the moment.

They spoke about ambitions, fears, and the unknown future, finding quiet solace in each other’s presence. Chowon shared her dreams of bringing peace and healing to worlds in need, her words layered with vulnerability. Dyna, listening intently, understood that her outward innocence was no indication of weakness; rather, it was her strength, a steadfast faith in the good she could do.

Through these shared moments, their bond solidified, a connection neither had expected but both cherished. Dyna’s guarded demeanor softened in Chowon’s presence, and Chowon felt truly seen and appreciated for the first time in a long while. With each passing day, they grew more certain that they were not just companions on this mission—they were allies, confidants, and perhaps, something even more.

A few days after Around a long, polished table in the ship’s dining hall, Jiu, Lady Sunshine, Lorgar, and Orion sat together, immersed in conversation over a late dinner. The meal had long since moved beyond formal topics, and now, there was laughter and easy camaraderie. Lady Sunshine was recounting a story from her last mission, her face lit with an almost mischievous gleam, while Jiu shook her head, her own laughter soft and musical.

Lorgar took a sip of his drink, glancing between his companions. “And here I thought I had seen it all,” he mused, “but it seems you all have been busy these past few years.”

Orion leaned forward, his eyes reflecting a mix of nostalgia and intrigue. “Busy doesn’t even begin to cover it, Lorgar. We’ve all changed since our last time together.”

The familiar ease of their reunion was interrupted when the doors to the dining hall slid open, and Chowon stepped in, her cheerful energy lighting up the room immediately. Following behind her was Dyna, his armored figure as imposing as ever, though his posture was relaxed.

“Sorry, we’re late!” Chowon said, giving everyone a bright smile. “We just got caught up talking.”

She led Dyna over to join them, claiming an empty spot beside Jiu. Dyna hesitated, but at a gentle nudge from Chowon, he finally took a seat next to her. He inclined his head in respectful greeting, his presence somehow both quiet and commanding, his gaze flickering between the familiar faces around the table.

Lady Sunshine smiled warmly. “Well, it’s good to see you both. Chowon, I trust you’ve been keeping Dyna busy?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Chowon grinned, glancing at Dyna, who gave a subtle nod. “We’ve been all over the ship and even managed to help with the barrier spell earlier.”

Orion watched Dyna closely, his curiosity unmistakable. “Dyna, right?” he asked, his tone cordial yet probing. “I haven’t seen power like yours in some time. Mind if I ask where you trained?”

Dyna met Orion’s gaze evenly. “Mostly self-taught,” he replied with calm precision, his voice modulated but warmer than before. “But I’ve had… mentors along the way.”

There was a pause as Orion studied him, trying to discern more from Dyna’s guarded answer. But Dyna’s expression, while polite, gave little away.

“That’s impressive,” Lorgar chimed in, his own curiosity piqued. “Most who wield both psionics and magik have years of formal training.”

“Practice and persistence,” Dyna replied with a small shrug. His guarded tone softened as he added, “It’s been… an interesting journey, let’s say that.”

Chowon, noticing the weight in his words, gave him an encouraging smile. “And I can say he’s quite skilled! Not only in power but in precision.”

Orion chuckled lightly, clearly intrigued but sensing the need to change tactics. “Well, anyone who can keep up with Chowon deserves a medal.”

Dyna’s head tilted a hint of humor in his voice. “She’s definitely a challenge,” he agreed, glancing at her fondly.

Lady Sunshine raised an eyebrow. “Challenge? Oh, Dyna, you have no idea.”

Jiu leaned in, studying him thoughtfully. “You seem different from when we first saw you, Dyna,” she noted. “More… comfortable.”

Dyna paused, then gave a slight nod. “Traveling with Chowon… it’s been good for me. A reminder of what I’m here to protect.”

The table fell quiet for a moment, the group sharing a silent understanding. They sensed that Dyna was more than he seemed—a protector, a fighter, a man with his own set of codes, but one who chose his words carefully and gave little away about his past.

Orion, however, wasn’t one to let go so easily. “I’m sure your story is one worth telling,” he remarked with a pointed look. “Perhaps, in time, you’ll share it.”

Dyna’s gaze softened as he looked at the others, a hint of warmth flickering in his usually guarded expression. “Perhaps,” he replied, his tone a touch lighter. “But tonight, I’m just here to enjoy dinner with my… friends.”

Chowon’s face lit up at his words, and as the meal continued, it was clear that despite his quiet reserve, Dyna was slowly becoming part of their circle—a trusted, if enigmatic, presence in their midst.

As the expedition ship glided through the cold depths of space, the crew was finally beginning to settle into a rhythm. Halfway through their journey, a rare sense of calm had fallen over them. They were just starting to plan for the negotiations with Theros when the alarms blared through the corridors.

Dyna—always vigilant—was already on his feet, scanning the room for threats. Then, a flash of blinding light erupted outside the ship’s viewport, followed by a violent jolt as the entire vessel shuddered, throwing everyone to the ground. The emergency lights flickered to life, casting everything in a sickly red hue as the ship’s systems began shutting down one by one.

“Everyone, to the escape pods!” Lorgar shouted, his voice rising above the chaos as the crew stumbled to their feet.

As the crew scrambled to evacuate, Orion cursed, his gaze fixed on the control panel’s malfunctioning screens. The data displayed a signature that should have been impossible—one that shouldn’t have been there. Charlemagne. Orion’s expression twisted in disbelief.

Meanwhile, Charlemagne’s face appeared on the ship’s cracked display screens, smirking. “Apologies for the inconvenience, friends, but Theros made me an offer too good to refuse.” His eyes glittered with dark satisfaction. “And I have a schedule to keep.”

With that, the screen went dead, leaving the crew in stunned silence.

Realizing what had happened, Dyna didn’t hesitate. “Get moving! I’ll cover the rear and make sure everyone gets out.”

Jiu looked at him, her face pale with shock. “Dyna, you can’t hold off a full-blown attack alone!”

“I don’t plan on fighting them. Just… getting everyone out.” His voice was steady, leaving no room for argument.

One by one, the crew clambered into the escape pods, each person desperately buckling themselves in as explosions erupted closer and closer to the bridge. Dyna moved through the corridor, pulling people into the pods, forcing open doors, and carrying injured crew members. Each step he took was one closer to the heart of the chaos, where the sounds of machinery cracking under stress and flames licking at the walls filled the air.

The final escape pod held Jiu, Chowon, and Lorgar, all urgently waving for Dyna to jump in. The ship groaned as its structure began to give way, parts of the ceiling collapsing around them.

“Dyna, come on!” Chowon shouted, reaching out to him as he ran toward the pod. Just as he was about to step in, a burst of energy exploded above them, sending a spray of shrapnel down on his helmet. The force of the blast cracked it open, and the rest shattered from the impact.

As he staggered back, his face—one none of them had seen before—was revealed in full view. It was Doflamingo, Lorgar’s own apprentice, the one who hadn’t been brought along because of the occupation of Tikumanjaro.

“Doflamingo?” Lorgar breathed, his shock almost tangible.

The escape pod doors hissed shut, and with one last look at his former master, Doflamingo activated the release mechanism, sending the pod away from the disintegrating ship. He turned back to the destruction around him, a brief flicker of resolve hardening his gaze.

He watched the escape pods drift away, relieved that they were safe, as the ship around him groaned, cracking under the pressure. Just before the final explosion, he summoned all the power within him, his soul surging with strength and defiance, an unyielding fire radiating outward.

In the silence of space, the burning remains of the ship scattered, the escape pods drifting safely into the dark. And in every heart aboard, the truth sank in the unknown warrior they had come to trust was none other than Doflamingo, and he had given everything to protect them.

The escape pods streaked through the dark sky like falling stars, descending toward the closest habitable planet. In each pod, the crew braced for impact, gripping their seats as the small vessels rattled from the turbulence. When they finally hit solid ground, they stumbled out onto a strange, dense forest floor. The air was cool, the ground slightly damp, and a green mist hung low among the thick trees.

Chowon glanced up to the sky, worry tightening her heart. Doflamingo was still out there—alone in the damaged ship, facing the brutal reality of his own crash landing. The others around her started to take stock of their supplies and check for injuries, but Chowon’s focus was elsewhere. She could see him in her mind’s eye, maneuvering the ship, battered but resolute.

And then, through the canopy of clouds above, she spotted another flaming trail, the remnants of the main vessel hurtling toward the planet. A fiery streak blazed through the atmosphere before crashing in the distance, followed by a muffled but forceful shockwave that echoed across the forest.

Without thinking, Chowon broke into a sprint, the image of Doflamingo—no, Dyna—still vivid in her mind. She knew the others would likely follow, but none would reach him as fast as she could. Her feet pounded against the forest floor, her breaths coming fast and sharp as she navigated through dense trees and undergrowth. Finally, she reached the crash site.

The once-mighty ship was now a smoking ruin, pieces of the hull scattered and twisted. Among the wreckage, Doflamingo was half-buried beneath a broken panel, his face streaked with blood and grime. But he was alive, struggling to push himself free with what strength he had left.

“Dyna!” Chowon shouted, rushing over to him. She fell to her knees and gripped his arm, pulling him up just enough to get him out from under the twisted metal. Her heart swelled with relief and something else she couldn’t quite name as she saw his weary, bruised face. The remnants of his shattered helmet lay beside him, revealing every expression, every vulnerability he had hidden so carefully.

“Chowon,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, but a small, genuine smile played at his lips. “You… really didn’t have to come running like that.”

She returned his smile, gently brushing some debris from his shoulder. “Someone had to save the hero, right?” she said softly, her gaze unwavering. She helped him to his feet, slinging his arm over her shoulders as they limped back toward the others.

When they finally emerged from the trees, the rest of the group was waiting. Their expressions ranged from shock to wariness, each faced a mosaic of questions unasked.

Lorgar was the first to speak, his voice low and tinged with pain. “Doflamingo… I didn’t bring you along because I thought I couldn’t trust you here. You knew how important this mission was, and yet you… concealed yourself?”

Orion crossed his arms, his gaze icy and calculating as he studied him. “What was the plan here, Doflamingo? And how did you come by this level of power?”

Doflamingo opened his mouth, but Chowon spoke up first, her voice soft but firm, cutting through the tense silence. “Does it matter?” She met each of their gazes steadily, refusing to flinch. “He’s the reason we’re all alive. He fought to save us, even knowing he’d be hurt in the process. Dyna—Doflamingo—didn’t owe us anything, but he did it anyway.”

Lady Sunshine regarded her quietly, a small flicker of understanding in her gaze as she nodded. “There’s truth in that. Whatever questions we have can come later. Right now, we’re all here, alive, thanks to him.”

Doflamingo lowered his head, his expression a mixture of relief and guilt. “I know I deceived you all… but it was never my intention to betray any of you. Charlemagne’s actions put you in danger, and I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

Chowon tightened her hold on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “And you didn’t,” she said, her voice soft. “You didn’t betray us, Dyna. You protected us, and that’s all that matters.”

The others exchanged glances, and slowly, the tension began to ease, replaced by an unspoken understanding. One by one, they stepped forward, offering Doflamingo a nod, a hand on the shoulder, or a murmured word of gratitude. He felt a flicker of warmth within himself—a warmth that had begun with Chowon and now extended to the others, even as he knew they would still have questions.

For now, though, it was enough.

As the night settled in around the crash site, a quiet sense of hopelessness seemed to overtake the camp. Most of the crew sat in small, scattered groups, nursing injuries, comforting each other, or simply staring off into the dark, the weight of Charlemagne’s betrayal still hanging heavy in the air.

Doflamingo, though bruised and worn, hadn’t allowed himself to stop. Ignoring his aches and bruises, he channeled his powers, using psionics magic and palladics to pull pieces of the ship back together with deft precision. His hands moved with careful purpose, his aura flaring softly as the broken hull began to mend, inch by inch.

Chowon watched him, a sense of pride swelling in her chest. But as her gaze shifted to the others, she felt a pang of frustration. They were all capable, powerful even, and yet most of them sat idle, brooding, while Doflamingo strained himself to repair the ship. Her hands clenched into fists as she looked around the circle of tired, defeated faces.

Finally, she’d had enough. She stood up, her voice cutting through the silence with an unexpected sharpness. “Alright, listen up!” The force in her tone made everyone turn to her, taken aback by the normally soft-spoken Ward Witch’s sudden command. “You’re all sitting here feeling sorry for yourselves, when the one person who’s done the most to save us—despite everything—is over there, working alone.”

Lorgar looked at her in surprise. “Chowon, we’re trying to regroup, to assess—”

“No, what you’re doing is wallowing,” Chowon interrupted, her eyes flashing with determination. “Charlemagne betrayed us, but we’re not helpless. We have a ship, we have each other, and we have the power to fix this. But if you’re all going to sit around, I’ll be the one to say it—you’re failing this mission.”

The others exchanged glances, some of them shifting uncomfortably, but Chowon pressed on. “Doflamingo is over there, putting his life and strength on the line for us. I know some of you don’t understand him, but he’s shown more resilience and more care for all of us than I’ve seen from anyone here. We’re Ward Witches, Codex Keepers—we’re supposed to be the best, to lead in times of crisis, not to sit by when there’s work to be done.”

She took a step forward, her voice softening but remaining firm. “I’m helping him, with or without the rest of you. But if you have any respect for this mission, for yourselves, and for what we stand for, then get up and join us.”

Doflamingo looked up, his expression a mixture of surprise and admiration as Chowon’s words cut through the camp like a bolt of lightning. Slowly, one by one, the others stood, their faces shifting from shock to resolution.

Orion was the first to speak. “You’re right, Chowon. We’ve been distracted. We owe it to each other—and to Doflamingo—to pull our weight.” He turned to the others, nodding. “Let’s get to work.”

Lorgar, though still processing everything, moved over to Doflamingo’s side, nodding with silent respect. Lady Sunshine and Jiu joined in, their powers flaring as they began assisting with the repairs, levitating sections of the hull into place or welding components together with controlled bursts of psionic energy.

Chowon stepped up beside Doflamingo, giving him an encouraging smile. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she said softly. “We’re here with you.”

As they worked together, a new energy filled the air, one of shared purpose and resilience. Under Chowon’s direction, the ship began to take shape, piece by piece, each member of the crew focused on a single goal. Chowon and Doflamingo had become the unlikely heart of this mission, their dedication inspiring everyone around them.

When dawn finally broke, the ship stood rebuilt, a symbol of their shared strength and determination. Chowon glanced around at the exhausted but resolute faces, a sense of pride filling her as she realized they had succeeded not just because of their powers, but because they had chosen to rise above their doubts and come together.

From that moment on, she and Doflamingo were the unspoken leaders of the group, their actions a testament to the courage that had kept them all moving forward.

As the newly restored ship sailed through the vastness of space, the team finally settled into a quiet camaraderie, bonded by the hardships they’d overcome together. The silence felt peaceful, but there was a new, unspoken understanding among them—respect for Chowon and Doflamingo’s unrelenting spirit that had carried them all through.

Doflamingo had found himself at the ship’s observation deck, staring out into the stars, his usually guarded expression softened by a hint of ease. After all the battles, betrayals, and near-death encounters, there was a calm he hadn’t felt in years. As he watched the distant lights of planets slipping by, a voice broke the silence behind him. For a moment he wasn't burdened by visions of the future.

“Thought I might find you here.”

He turned, and there was Chowon, her gaze warm and steady. She walked up beside him, leaning against the railing and letting the quiet stretch between them for a moment. Finally, she looked up, meeting his eyes. “Doflamingo… I just wanted to say thank you. You gave everything to keep us safe out there.”

Doflamingo let out a quiet chuckle, glancing down. “I did what I had to. For everyone.” He paused, his voice softening. “For you.”

Her hand slipped over his, her fingers intertwining with his armored glove, her touch gentle but sure. “I know you did. And I know it wasn’t easy for you to keep… well, everything about yourself hidden from us. But you’ve shown me more than anyone ever has.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “And I want you to know, that no matter what others might say or think… you’re my hero. That’s my choice, and I’m proud of it.”

Doflamingo looked down at her, his usual cold gaze melting into something warmer, more vulnerable. “Chowon, I never expected anyone to see me the way you do. But… having you by my side, it’s more than I ever thought I deserved.”

She smiled, her eyes softening with a mixture of affection and determination. “Well, too bad. Because you are a hero deal with it.”

With a quiet laugh, he leaned down, his forehead resting gently against hers. They stayed like that for a moment, their surroundings forgotten as they held onto each other in the solitude of the stars.

“I like you. I like you a lot Doflamingo!” Chowon asserted confidently. Doflamingo nodded and replied

“Chowon when I'm with you everything seems better,” Chowon smiled before taking Doflamingo into a deep kiss. In that moment, Chowon’s heart swelled with pride, feeling as though she’d found her place and purpose in this chaotic universe. They weren’t just partners on this mission; they were each other’s anchor, their bond forged in fire and tempered by trust. When she broke the kiss the two of them, they stared at each other intently.

As the expedition ship hummed through the darkness of space, Dahyun found herself wandering the quieter corridors, lost in thought. Passing by one of the observation decks, she noticed a familiar pair silhouetted against the backdrop of stars—Chowon and Doflamingo, close together, sharing a quiet moment. Chowon’s hand rested easily in Doflamingo’s, her head leaned against his shoulder, and he was watching her with a look Dahyun hadn’t seen from him before—warmth, softness, and something undeniably close to love.

Dahyun’s breath hitched. She felt a pang deep in her chest, unexpected but undeniable. Memories drifted back—moments she and Doflamingo had shared, conversations where he’d seemed to open up, the way his rare smiles had once made her heart race. She had felt something, hadn’t she? A chance, perhaps, or at least the glimmer of one. But she’d buried those feelings, convinced herself it wasn’t the time. She’d told herself he was focused on his mission, on his responsibilities… and maybe, so was she.

She watched the two of them, saw Chowon’s easy laugh, the way Doflamingo’s normally rigid demeanor softened in her presence, and felt a strange blend of regret and bittersweet acceptance. She’d missed her chance—she realized that now. And yet, watching how Chowon and Doflamingo brought out the best in each other, she couldn’t deny that they seemed perfect together.

Dahyun took a steadying breath, her gaze shifting to the stars beyond them. Next time, she thought, a quiet promise forming in her heart. The next time she felt that spark, that chance for something real, she wouldn’t let her guard up or hold back out of caution. She would let herself feel it fully, without reservations or excuses.

She turned and walked away, leaving Chowon and Doflamingo to their moment. There was a lingering sadness, but beneath it, a newfound determination. She wouldn’t lose her chance again—whenever love came calling, she would be ready.

As Doflamingo and Chowon stood together Chowon began to feel a fire light in her lower abdomen it made her bolder.

“I need you,” Chowon whined before dragging him to her quarters where she slammed the door and locked it with him inside. Her eyes shifted as she pinned him to her bed. Despite all of his strength Doflamingo was still drained from ship repair and the crash landing. Chowon used her strength to pin him and yank his pants down. In her eyes a wild and reckless fire of passion. She saw his cock and slowly began to stroke it marveling as it got harder for her.

“You've been a bad boy, hiding this from me.” Chowon cooed in a seductive voice. When Doflamingo reached full mast she smiled. “I'm going to take all of you and you're going to take all of me. Well become one,” she said. Doflamingo began to feel light-headed as she took his manhood inside of her mouth. At first, she was slow but the fire inside her cast all other thoughts aside. Furiously she stripped before telling Doflamingo to do the same. Her eyes clouded with furious desire as the two of them stood in her room bare.

“You're so alluring,” Doflamingo said as Chowon happily pushed him onto the bed again.

“Oh is that all you have to say,” she asks she gropes her massive tits and says, “Really? nothing to say about these?” She stops and then switches to groping her ass, “or this,” she adds before she sinks on Doflamingo’s cock. She moans in carnal pleasure.

“You were the first one to view me as a woman. So I'm going to be the first to make you a man,” she proudly proclaims as she begins to ride Doflamingo. Doflamingo is overstimulated by her warm wet hole. Chowon notices it and giggles

“Do you like it? How wet I am for you?” she questions as she grinds along his shaft. Doflamingo nods as she starts bouncing on his cock. Chowon smiled watching Doflamingo unravel until he exploded inside of her. Chowon smiled as she continued riding until she came moments later.

She smiled as she cupped Doflamingo’s face before resting her head on his shoulders. The couple cuddled before falling asleep. When Chowon woke up she felt at peace as Doflamingo ran his hand along her hair. She felt like she was in a trance as Doflamingo pet her. The two sat silently for a while until they felt the ship lurch and move.

Doflamingo stormed off the ship, barely reining in the fury surging through every inch of his being. The moment his boots hit the ground, he shot forward, his eyes locked on the so-called “negotiation table” ahead. The others scrambled to keep up, but he was already steps ahead, moving with a deadly focus. Inside, every part of him screamed for destruction, to tear apart the pieces of a universe that had betrayed him, but he forced himself to hold on.

When he reached the table, his presence alone sent a shockwave of fear through the air. The Loremaster of Diplomatics, attempting an oblivious greeting, barely had time to blink before Doflamingo seized him and hurled him out of the room. The heavy doors clanged shut, locking him and the Theros representatives inside. His energy swelled, filling the room with an oppressive heat that made the representatives shrink back in terror.

Doflamingo took a long, slow breath, letting the facade of calm settle over his features. His voice, soft and cordial, cut through the silence with chilling contrast to the rage roiling just beneath the surface. “I’ve brought you peace terms,” he said, pushing the contract across the table toward them.

One representative fumbled for the document, his hands trembling as he read the conditions. As they skimmed the pages, their expressions shifted from fear to astonishment. The terms were generous, more than they’d anticipated—land grants, resources, everything they’d wanted save three final demands: Lorgar’s head, Orion’s head, and the return of the confiscated gene bombs.

“How did you get this approval?” one of the representatives stammered, looking up at Doflamingo in disbelief.

Doflamingo’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a menacing murmur. “The Confederation understands just how far your ambition stretches. They see this as a clean break—a way to end this war without plunging us all into an endless bloodbath.” His voice wavered as fury simmered beneath the surface, barely controlled. “Are the terms acceptable?”

“Yes… yes, they are,” one of the representatives hurriedly replied, his eyes darting away from Doflamingo’s intense gaze.

“Good.” Doflamingo straightened, an eerie calm settling over him as he took a single, deep breath. He turned, striding out of the room and into the gathering group of his comrades. “It’s over,” he announced, his voice low but carrying an edge of relief.

But as he said the words, his emotions caught up to him, and the calm shattered. His aura swelled, a raw, explosive power filling the space around him. Rage crackled in the air like a storm on the verge of breaking as he fixed his gaze on Charlemagne, standing among the others, still wearing that smug, unperturbed expression. Every fiber of Doflamingo’s being screamed at him to burn everything to the ground, to let loose the inferno within.

“Now you…” Doflamingo’s voice dropped to a feral growl as he took a step forward, his psionic, magic, and palladic runes flaring so intensely they seemed to light up the entire room. “Do you have any idea what you were about to do? You nearly threw us into a billion-year war for what? Personal gain?”

The fury in his eyes was almost unbearable to look at, and Charlemagne, for the first time, flinched under his gaze. “You took shortcuts and turned a blind eye while innocent lives burned, all because you thought you saw an opening to climb the ladder.”

Doflamingo’s fists clenched, his hands trembling as he summoned his weapon, True King’s Legacy, its saber-like form glowing in the dark energy of his seething anger. The weapon itself seemed to pulse in tune with his rage, mirroring the wrath consuming him. “I should skin you alive,” he hissed, his voice breaking with raw desperation. “It would be nothing less than justice.”

Before he could advance further, the other Codex Keepers, Lorgar, Orion, Aragorn, and Magnus the Red, stepped forward, surrounding him. Their weapons were drawn, creating a tense barrier between him and Charlemagne.

“Doflamingo, you can’t do this,” Lorgar said firmly, his tone unyielding. “There are laws, boundaries even for you.”

Doflamingo’s face twisted in frustration, his voice cracking as he shot back, “What part of ‘billion-year war’ doesn’t register with you?” His breath was labored, his mind clinging desperately to the last threads of sanity as he fought against the darkness gnawing at him from within.

“All of it. The war is averted; it’s over,” Lorgar insisted, his voice calm but resolute. “He lost. You won. Isn’t that enough?”

“No! It’s not enough!” Doflamingo’s voice was almost pleading, the words spilling out in agony. His hands shook as he gripped True King’s Legacy, its blade vibrating with his need for retribution. “I need this…”

“No, you want this,” Aragorn countered, his voice like a steel blade. “You think this will satisfy your rage, but it won’t. It will only pull you deeper.”

Doflamingo shook his head, desperation etched into his features. “Same difference,” he spat, his voice barely a whisper. “Isn’t this self-defense? He tried to kill us! Doesn’t that count for something?”

“You’re not defending yourself,” Orion interjected softly. “This is revenge. You’re here to settle a vendetta, nothing more.”

Doflamingo’s defenses crumbled, and a single tear traced down his cheek. He took a shuddering breath, his voice reduced to a quiet, painful whisper. “Please, just let me have this.” His eyes were hollow, reflecting the years of nightmares and rage pent up within him, the screams of innocents forever etched in his memory.

But his mentors stood their ground, their gazes unyielding. “This won’t heal you, Doflamingo,” Lorgar said gently. “The pain you carry—it’s the cost of bearing future sight and bearing the weight of others’ suffering. But revenge won’t make it any lighter.”

Doflamingo’s shoulders slumped, his grip on True King’s Legacy loosening as he let out a shuddering exhale. “I don’t need true sight to know he’s going to be a problem. He’ll come back… and the cost will be on all of you. I could end it all right here, but you cowards would have him live another day”

The haunting prophecy hung in the air, chilling everyone present. But Doflamingo, finally releasing his grip on the weapon, stepped back. His eyes, though filled with anguish, softened when he saw Chowon standing nearby, her gaze steady and filled with understanding. She stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

Doflamingo looked at her, the warmth in her eyes cutting through the remnants of his fury, grounding him. Slowly, he let himself relax, letting her calm presence dissolve the last of his rage.

A few weeks later, the Codex Keepers convened in a quiet, vaulted chamber aboard the Confederation’s flagship. It was a solemn assembly, their faces set with the weight of the decision they were here to make. Lorgar, Aragorn, and Magnus the Red sat in a circle with the other master Codex Keepers, the hum of energy around them heavy with tension as they reviewed the events leading up to the final negotiation.

Lorgar broke the silence, his voice grave. “None of us can deny that Doflamingo’s actions saved countless lives. He was instrumental in averting a catastrophic war and stood against unimaginable odds. But his methods…” He paused, gathering his words. “They were unacceptable. His disregard for the principles of restraint and diplomacy nearly led us into the very destruction he sought to prevent.”

Aragorn nodded solemnly. “Yes, he protected us, but he almost gave in to a darkness within himself, a need for vengeance that goes against everything a Codex Keeper stands for. His confrontation with Charlemagne went beyond defending himself. His actions were driven by a vendetta, not justice.”

Magnus sighed, his eyes thoughtful but resolute. “Doflamingo’s fury was understandable, given the pain he’s suffered. But his anger was so close to consuming him—and all of us along with it. If we turn a blind eye, we risk legitimizing that kind of retribution, and that’s a precedent we can’t afford to set.”

The others murmured in agreement. They each recognized Doflamingo’s contributions but felt the need for an unshakeable moral foundation within their order. Finally, Magnus the Red spoke. “The power of a Codex Keeper lies not only in their abilities but in their discipline. A Keeper cannot let rage dictate their actions, no matter how justified that rage may feel. If we allow Doflamingo to remain, we signal that unchecked fury has a place among us.”

With a heavy heart, Lorgar raised his hand, symbolically casting his vote. The others followed, each lifting their hands in solemn confirmation. The decision was unanimous. Doflamingo would be expelled from the Codex Keepers.

“Then it is decided,” Lorgar announced, his voice filled with a quiet sadness. “We will relieve Doflamingo of his title and position within the Codex Keepers. His service to the Confederation will be honored, but he can no longer serve as one of us.”

As they concluded the proceedings, Lorgar nodded to the doorway. Standing just outside was Othello, known once again as Codex Keeper Orion. The mantle had returned to him after years away, and though he wore the title with a familiar dignity, a shadow crossed his face as he listened.

Othello entered, nodding respectfully to the council. “It’s unfortunate to see Doflamingo leave,” he said, his tone gentle but understanding. “But I will do my best to uphold the order’s principles and restore what was lost.” There was a determination in his eyes—a commitment to honor the values they held dear.

The Keepers dispersed quietly, each carrying a sense of both relief and regret. Doflamingo’s absence was a painful loss, a reminder of the price of unchecked power. But as Codex Keeper Orion took his place once more, the order had a chance to rebuild, to reestablish the foundation of restraint and honor that defined them.

Doflamingo received the news of his expulsion alone, a formal message transmitted with the seal of the Codex Keepers. The decision, though not unexpected, hit him with a crushing finality he hadn’t anticipated. Standing by himself, he read the message in silence, the words blurring slightly as he realized how thoroughly his actions had stripped him of the order that had been his life. The title he’d worked for, the discipline he’d held himself to—it had all been taken from him in one swift sentence.

His fists clenched as he fought the conflicting emotions swirling within him. Rage flared, hot and searing, his mind instinctively revisiting the moments when he’d acted, in his eyes, to protect everyone—even when that protection demanded ruthless measures. Every cell in his body wanted to argue, to lash out at the council’s narrow perspective. They hadn’t seen the horror he had glimpsed in his nightmares, hadn’t felt the weight of what he knew was at stake.

But behind that fury was a deeper hurt, a stinging sense of betrayal and isolation. The Codex Keepers had been his family, his mentors, his anchor. And now, with a few strokes of their pens, they had turned their backs on him. There was no room for understanding, for the complexity of what he’d been through. The very people he had sacrificed so much for had cast him aside.

He could almost hear the voices of his mentors—their words of caution and control, their steady insistence on restraint. Their faces came to him, one by one, and a part of him could see their point. His own anger had come close to consuming him. And yet, even with that understanding, the pain of being deemed unworthy, of having his efforts and loyalty reduced to recklessness, left him hollowed out.

Doflamingo exhaled slowly, trying to calm the storm raging within. There was no reversing the council’s decision, no amount of justification would bring him back into their ranks. The Codex Keepers’ judgment, even if he despised it, was final. He had given everything, and they had still let him go.

A hand touched his shoulder—Chowon. Her presence grounded him instantly, easing the bitterness gnawing at his heart. She’d stood by him, seen him at his worst, and she hadn’t turned away. Looking into her warm, reassuring eyes, he found something to hold on to, something real that didn’t depend on titles or orders.

“They can take their title,” he murmured, voice low and rough, “but they can’t take what I’ve fought for.”

Chowon nodded, offering him a small, sympathetic smile. “No, they can’t. And they won’t. What you did will stand, and they’ll remember it—even if they don’t acknowledge it now.”

Together, they left the room, his resolve renewed with each step. If he couldn’t be a Codex Keeper, he would find his own way to protect those he cared about. And though he had lost his place in the order, he still had a purpose—and people who believed in him.

A year had passed since Doflamingo’s expulsion, yet the sting of betrayal was fresh in his heart. When the news broke that Charlemagne had been cleared of all wrongdoing and was to be reinstated, Doflamingo’s faith in the Codex Keepers shattered once more. The public spectacle of the trial had been grueling, exposing the rot in an order that claimed to uphold justice and truth. To everyone else, this outcome was stunning, outrageous even. But for Doflamingo and Chowon, it was simply confirmation of what they’d known all along: the Codex Keepers were willing to protect their own—even at the cost of true justice.

On a quiet evening, Doflamingo waited outside the Codex Keepers’ headquarters. Lorgar, Magnus, Aragorn, and Orion stepped out after a long day, visibly worn by the day’s events. To their surprise, they saw Doflamingo waiting, a platter of food in his hands. Silently, they sat down together on the steps, taking portions from the platter, eating as if this gathering were normal, though tension and unspoken words lay heavy in the air.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the clink of utensils and the muffled sounds of the city around them. Doflamingo’s gaze was distant, fixed somewhere past the stars, his fury radiating like a dark, suppressed storm. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice a quiet, seething whisper.

“I will never forgive, nor forget this,” he murmured, his tone deadly calm. “Your cowardice here will cost you, and it will cost this order dearly. But I should’ve known—none of you can handle what it takes to see beyond this flawed, rotting system.” He clenched his fists, voice thick with restrained anger. “I will tear it down, every piece, but it will be a revolution unlike anything this universe has seen. No war. No bloodshed. Just power. And the strength of that power will be so absolute that the universe will have no choice but to submit.”

Lorgar’s face tightened, and with a heavy breath, he leaned forward, eyes searching Doflamingo’s for some glimmer of the apprentice he once knew. “Please, don’t do this,” he pleaded, voice almost breaking. “Don’t turn against us. There’s another way.”

Doflamingo’s bitter laugh filled the silence, and he shook his head slowly. “Another way?” he echoed, his voice hollow. “Do you think I haven’t tried to find it? Do you think I didn’t give everything to prevent the war that haunted my dreams? Those visions started the day I joined you, the day I trusted you.” His voice dropped, tinged with hurt. “I did everything I could to protect this universe, and yet here I am—stripped of my title, cast aside—while you welcome a traitor back into your ranks.”

Aragorn looked down, fists clenched, unable to meet Doflamingo’s gaze. The regret was evident on each of their faces, but none of them spoke. They all knew, in some way, that he was right, but they had chosen the path of least resistance, the preservation of order over true justice.

Doflamingo turned to them, his face set with finality. “When next we meet, it may be as enemies. So pray that your god shows you mercy.” He took a breath, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. “Because I won’t.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving them in silence. The four Codex Keepers sat unmoving, watching his figure fade into the twilight, each haunted by the knowledge that the apprentice they had once cherished was lost to them—and that one day, their failure to act might bring them all to ruin.

Later that evening, Chowon stormed through the Ward Witches, her heart pounding with anger and hurt. The verdict had been announced, and Charlemagne’s smug, unrepentant face flashed in her mind as he walked free, reinstated without consequence. She found Lady Sunshine in one of the training rooms, lost in meditation, her aura glowing with the calm resolve that Chowon used to admire so much. Today, however, it filled her with frustration.

“Lady Sunshine,” Chowon’s voice echoed, sharper than she’d intended. Lady Sunshine opened her eyes, a flicker of surprise crossing her face at the sight of Chowon’s intensity.

“Yes, Chowon?” she asked gently, though she already sensed the reason for this confrontation.

“Why?” Chowon’s voice trembled, anger and confusion layered into every syllable. “Why did you stop Doflamingo from ending Charlemagne? You knew what he did. You knew the lies, the betrayal, and yet you still stepped in to protect him.” Chowon’s eyes searched Lady Sunshine’s face, desperately seeking an answer that might make sense of this.

Lady Sunshine sighed, her expression softening with a sadness Chowon hadn’t seen before. “It wasn’t as simple as you think, Chowon. Doflamingo was acting on rage. If he’d killed Charlemagne in that moment, it would have set him on a path that could destroy him. I couldn’t let him lose himself like that.”

Chowon shook her head, frustration flaring. “But Charlemagne caused all this! He tried to get us killed, he sabotaged the mission, he betrayed everything the Codex Keepers stand for—and yet you let him walk free.” Her fists clenched. “And Doflamingo? He gave everything for this order, for all of us, and you still stood in his way.”

Lady Sunshine’s gaze turned distant, as if remembering all the burdens she’d carried through her years in the Codex Keepers. “I know you’re hurt, Chowon. I know this seems like we betrayed him. But Doflamingo’s path is dangerous—not because of his power, but because of what his anger might make him do. If he destroys Charlemagne, he risks becoming the very thing he fought against. A force unchecked can turn dark.”

Chowon’s eyes filled with tears, but her voice was steady. “He deserved justice. Doflamingo deserved the chance to be heard, to end this cycle of betrayal.” She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. “But you silenced him. You all did.”

Lady Sunshine looked down, regret flickering in her eyes. “I silenced him because I care for him, and I hoped to protect him from a fate he’d regret. But perhaps…” She hesitated, her voice softer. “Perhaps we all failed him in ways we’ll never fully understand.”

The two stood in silence, the weight of unspoken truths settling between them. Chowon took a shaky breath, her voice almost a whisper. “If you truly cared, you would have stood with him.” With that, she turned and left, leaving Lady Sunshine alone with the echoes of her own doubts, feeling for the first time the loss of a student she never truly understood.

Not long after her conversation with Lady Sunshine, Chowon stood at the threshold of the Ward Witches’ grand hall for the last time. She could still remember the day she had first entered these halls, brimming with hope and pride, certain that she’d found a place where her gifts could make a real difference. But now, those walls felt cold, and the familiar faces that passed by looked at her with pity or disapproval rather than understanding. Her heart hardened as she recalled the injustice they had let fester, the loyalty they had so easily betrayed.

With a final glance at the Ward Witches’ insignia, she turned her back on it, stepping out into the cold night air, feeling freer—and angrier—than she had in years. Outside, Doflamingo waited, leaning against the wall, his gaze steady as she approached. He already knew what her decision would be; he could see it in her stride, the fierceness in her eyes.

“So, you left?” he asked, his tone soft but laced with a hint of satisfaction.

She nodded. “I’m done with orders that only pretend to seek justice. They never stood by you, or anyone who truly wanted to change things. I’ve had enough of their hypocrisy.”

Doflamingo looked at her, pride and affection gleaming in his eyes. He stepped closer, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. “Then, Chowon, what’s your next move?”

She looked up at him, determination flaring. “I want to fight for real change, not just promises. And that means standing with you.”

Doflamingo chuckled, a deep, rolling sound filled with dark satisfaction and resolve. “Well, if you’re ready to join me, my next move is clear.” He stepped back and stretched his arms toward the stars. “I’m going to become the Lord of the Skies.”

Chowon’s eyes sparkled, and a wide smile broke across her face. She didn’t hesitate. “Then I’m with you, Doflamingo. The skies it is.”

Together, they looked toward the endless stars above, the path now uncertain but wholly their own. It was just the beginning of the journey—one they would carve out with strength, vision, and an unwavering belief in each other.

As Chowon and Doflamingo stood together, staring up at the infinite skies, the weight of their new mission settled between them. The universe was vast and daunting, filled with old powers and ancient grudges, but neither of them felt fear. The stars beckoned with the promise of freedom—a freedom they’d claim on their terms.

In the days that followed, rumors spread quickly. Stories of Doflamingo, now known as “ Lord Imperius” and his mysterious partner “Lady Libertas”, a fierce and brilliant Ward Witch, began to ripple through the sectors. Planets once bound by corrupt orders felt hope stirring for the first time in decades. Those who sought justice, those who had been silenced or wronged, now had a voice—and a pair of protectors willing to defy every rule to ensure their freedom.

[thegayloragenda]

Okay I want to put all of my current predictions out here (these are subject to change, of course):

• I think this show is going to get a little more colorful or a little bit more gay with each show because I think she’s running out the clock.

• I am CLOWNING for an eventual pronoun change during surprise songs.

• I think Karlie will probably show up again. And if she shows up for the rep announcement I will die dead.

• I’m also clowning for a rainbow variation of every outfit or perhaps a debutation variation if she plans to drop them together. Maybe a karma outfit. Idk. I don’t really know what is coming next in regard to music or if there will be anything (what if she just went black out for a year and then dropped rep next December 😂).

• I’m split because I think she’s either going to continue this Travis stunt until the Super Bowl or she’ll break up with him while on tour (if it’s real that’s totally fine but the way this relationship has been crammed down our throats gives me the ick so bad). I have no idea how that breakup will go down especially since they’ve made an entire Christmas movie about this relationship.

• I’m still assuming we’ll get a proposal / breakup.

Overall, I don’t think Taylor Swift would pander to this side of the fandom the way she has if she didn’t have a plan to blow everything up. I assume she’s a good person. I assume she’s supportive of the fans who see her. I’ve been in this fandom long enough to know what it looks like when she’s in the closet and when she isn’t. The closet isn’t even glass anymore. The closet is just invisible at this point so if she’s just a straight girl who loves rainbows, she’s absolutely diabolical in the very worst ways.

And before anyone comes for me, yes she can be bi or pan or whatever she wants to be. I don’t care about muses or labels. I notice patterns and I can’t help but connect the dots. I see bi and lesbian dresses and her calling attention to them so that’s where my focus is. I care about freedom for her (whatever that looks like) and I also think some clarity about who she actually is will help a lot of us decide if we want to keep supporting her and giving her our money. I’m placing my bet on her being who I think she is so I’m here to support her until the end of this roller coaster ride.

I will make a post on the final day of this tour but I just want to say this: I have had the TIME OF MY LIFE in this labyrinth. I have made lifelong friends because of this side of the fandom. Thank you to ALL of my friends on here who have followed me and commented on my posts and said such kind things. Thank you to everyone who has messaged me their insights and theories. And finally, thank you to my fans who have messaged me your homophobic, brain-rotted hate comments. Good luck in the aftermath!

And to Taylor (if you ever see this), thank you for keeping my mind so stimulated. I will probably never get dementia because of you. You have been so good for my brain health. Thank you for teaching me about my own history as a queer girlie. Thank you for helping me heal my relationship with my neurodivergent self. Thank you for being the “mother” who saw me when my own mother just talks about how gross and wrong gay people are. Thank you for being kind and strong and brave in the face of shame and fear and danger. Thank you for leading a revolution of New Romantics! No one does it like you, girl. I love you so much. I hope you got a giggle over the chaos and the wrong predictions. I hope this tour brought you joy and hope and peace and healing. I know I haven’t always seen eye to eye with some of your choices, but I do respect you and I do hope the rest of your life is sunshine and rainbows and you get to hug your mom forever and take really long naps with your person after all of this is over. Long live 💜

Update: I do think the election plays a big role in how loud she can be. @casuallycruel131313 pointed this out, too. We’ll get way more once Kamala has been elected! I think Canada shows will be wildddd.

[kaisaerinlover]

michael kaiser

tw: dubcon, incest

michael kaiser. he’s a great brother, he loves his baby sister and she loves him too. he’s an excellent brother, actually. except for when he’s not. except for the times like now. he’s angry. he just got home from practice and he’s mad, you don’t know what at, what do you know about football? you don’t pry and you don’t ask, you know how he is when he’s stressed. you know he’s home because of the loud bang from downstairs. you’re thankful you aren’t the wall because you can all but imagine the hole that kaiser’s tattooed fist has more than likely just left there. you’re thinking about it still, so hard you don’t even notice your bedroom door slam open.

kaiser looks pissed, and stressed. he’s looking at you with rage and desperation. you’re confused, what are you supposed to do? “mic-“ he pins you to the bed before you can even speak his name fully, hand over your mouth and wrists over your head. “don’t talk, please, just let me have this.” have what? you don’t know what he’s talking about? poor you, you’re so innocent, it’s funny. kaiser would find it cute usually, but not right now, he needs this so bad. he smashes his lips onto yours, this isn’t the sweet kisses you’re oh so accustomed to; this is desperate. if he wasn’t your brother you’d think he was about to cannibalise you or something, seriously. kaiser is a little rough sometimes, but never in this setting. usually it’s a punch or a few insults, not this. but ah, you’re so wet already; and you’re so ashamed of that.

he’s already on top of you, peeling off your cute pajamas that he graciously gifted you just last week (thanks big brother) and pinching you everywhere harshly. you can see in his eyes something is seriously up, he’s so desperate. he pinches your tits in his much larger hands, and you whine. “all mine, you’re all for me, aren’t you? say it.” his tone is stern, and you know better than to disobey, but he also looks so desperate, what has gotten your brother so riled up? “all for y-you micha, everythin’ for y-you-“ you sputter out between breathy moans. he’s toying with your nipples, and it hurts. he’s so mean, and you hate yourself for liking it.

if he didn’t notice your arousal before he definitely has by now, you’re grinding on the knee he has slotted between your frail legs. “you want me? say it, tell me you want me” and you shake your head no. no way, you don’t want this, it’s too rough for you. he has to be nicer with you. and he doesn’t like that, are you out of your fucking mind? your brother is michael fucking kaiser. he’s done everything for you, he raised you and you tell him no? “you fucking whore, just listen for once, don’t you remember everything i’ve done for you? is that how you treat your brother who gave up everything just to give you a good fucking life?” he’s right. how could you do that to your brother? you’re a bad sister aren’t you?

before you know it you’re kicked onto the floor between his legs as he pulls his shorts down and palms his erection through his boxers. and you’re so cute down there. you’re clinging to his leg looking up at him like he’s a god passing judgement on you. “‘m sorry mikka, sorry f-for real- i’ll be good i swear-“ you sniffle. and man are you cute. you look like a kicked puppy. god you’re so easy to bend to his will. it’s a miracle you’re his sister, because if anyone else was your brother you’d be done for, they would take so much advantage of you. he muses to himself, even though he knows he’s probably way worse than anyone else that would ever even interact with you (if he allowed it, which he’s never going to.) he brings a finger to your lips to hush you as he pulls out his cock completely. “it’s ok, just be good for me now, ‘kay? i had a long day.” and you are good. you’re so good, opening your mouth so pliantly to take your brothers dick.

he’s gripping your hair so hard you’re scared he’s about to pull your scalp off, but don’t worry, he knows better, he knows how to make it as painful as he can without causing you any actual harm. lucky you, or something. it hurts really bad, you’re too delicate for this, but when you open your eyes and look up to see your older brother in complete ecstasy it’s so worth it, so worth gagging on his fat cock ‘cause at least it makes him happy. at least you’re repaying him for everything he’s done for you, right? he deserves this! everyone deserves a break ‘specially your brother ‘cause he does so much for his beloved baby sister. kaiser loves it, seeing you on your knees between his legs, the girl he raised like a kid, his sister, the one he shares the same eyes with, the same hair, the same smile that you wear so much better, everything. so fucking cute. you’re so perfect, he’s secretly so insecure you’re going to pack up and leave him one day. it’s why he’s been so stressed ontop of soccer. please don’t leave your brother after he did so much for you! you look so docile down there, and you are, he knows ‘cause he trained you to be like that. you’re good for him always, and he likes that.

it’s so rewarding when he finally cums. you’re panting so much, some of his cum almost spills out of your mouth. he’s quick to close it with his hand and you feel a little embarrassed. don’t be such a wasteful idiot, you have to take everything your brother gives you so generously. both of you are worn out, he thinks you look so cute, mouth stuffed full of his cock and seed like a cute hamster. he wipes his spent dick on your cheek and ruffles your hair affectionately. “good job, you did good” all of his anger dissipated as soon as he came, he’s so lucky he knows it. having a baby sister is the best, seriously, the best remedy for any negative emotions at all.

you’re still so wet, and you’re so ashamed! you shouldn’t feel like this, but you do, and kaiser knows it too. good thing you did so well at taking his cock tonight, now he’ll indulge you a little too. you’re still on the floor, sitting with your legs up and a little spread. you look so cute, looking up at him with so much admiration and love, like he’s some deity. to you he is, he’s your whole world actually, you don’t have anyone except him. you’re kinda like a pet, he thinks. the saying that you should be nice to your pet because you’re their whole life, but they aren’t your whole life because you have other people, other things, other responsibilities. that’s kind of how your brother views you. you’re so closed off from everything else, it’s funny. a pet sister. he wants to laugh at the thought, but he simply looks down at you. you were really good, weren’t you?

he brings a socked foot between your legs and massages your soaked panties with it. ah, it’s so degrading, and you moan so sweetly afterwards. he’s teasing you, you know you probably look pathetic, mewling at your brothers foot tormenting your aching pussy, but you don’t care, you want it so bad. he’s toying with you, he’s so mean sometimes, you think. but it’s better than before, at least he’s not mad. he’s smirking down at you. “feels good? little slut” he chastises you, but his words don’t hold any real malice, only love. you don’t need to answer, you won’t be able to form a real sentence anyway, don’t worry, he knows that. he just keeps toying with your aching core with his foot. like you’re some insignificant pet cat on the floor.

and then comes what he was waiting for. your sweet begging, it’s so cute, you’re so cute, adorable in fact. “s-stop playin’ mikka- please- need you- please i was so g-goodddd” you whine at him. and he agrees, you were good. such a good girl for your brother. fine, he’ll indulge you. you’re on his lap with 3 of his fingers rubbing on your cunt, your brother’s fingers are so nice, he knows exactly what you like. he stops for a second to shove his fingers in your mouth. “can you taste how sweet you are on your brother’s fingers, hm? prinzessin?” he laughs. he’s so condescending the whole time, you feel so pathetic for enjoying this. he probably thinks you’re a fool! and he does, but in a different way, he thinks as he goes back to rubbing your little pussy, you’re a fool, but it’s okay, you’re only the product of your elder brother. he made you this way so he could enjoy you, let him reap his reward, okay? don’t overthink! your brother likes how pitiful you are under his touch. under his presence. under simply him.

it’s deplorable how much you’ve enjoyed tonight, your brother’s fingers still toying with you til’ you can’t take it anymore, but neither of you care. you can’t care anyway, this is normal to you; you’re a well trained girl and your mind is elsewhere on this subject. he could care, but he doesn’t, if you don’t care why should he? finally, his skilled fingers coax you to your orgasm, and you pant in his arms. he brings his fingers to your mouth again and you mindlessly open for him to insert them. see, well trained and cute. you’re so pliant, he loves it. he truly outdid himself raising you.

you’re asleep straight after that, clinging to his side in bed as he scrolls his phone. man, having a baby sister is the best, he’s almost sorry for everyone else who pays for therapy and medicine, when the best cure to every problem is free! it’s just having a younger sister to use!!! he kisses your head and smirks “sleep tight, katzi” and closes his eyes too. what a good day he’s had.

[voxofthevoid]

relate to being turned off from satosugu bc of the fandom. especially being on twitter makes me feel crazy omg bc i'll see posts where people are straight up acting like gojo was completely fine with what geto did bc gojo is just oh so down bad for him and loves him more than anyone else in the world and he doesnt care about anything he just wants geto back. and that is just. so untrue and also so boring, imo.

Because to me, gojo truly *is* a good person in his actions. he says crass things and maybe his mentality can be detached at times, but he always helps people where it counts. Even when he was taking Riko's body away and he asked geto if he should just kill the cult members and geto said no- I have a hard time picturing gojo actually going through with it even if geto *had* said yes. Because for all that gojo postures, I don't think he truly has that kind of bloodlust and rage in him, imo. Not even saying that I think killing those cult members would've been bad, or that Gojo would never ever kill anybody (simply not true), I just simply don't think gojo wouldve stopped walking, turned around, and killed allll those people in that instance (or if he did, I think he wouldve felt,,, off about it afterwards, despite what he said).

But I see so many stsg shippers who act like the only reason gojo was heartbroken about the situation was just because geto left him, and not bc, yaknow, geto committed reprehensible atrocities and became a supremacist. and i'm like,,, are we watching the same show? it's truly such a BAFFLING perspective of the relationship to me. like why erase their moral differences ? doesn't that make the ship more interesting? Sometimes I feel like the reason they do that is bc they can't handle the fact that Geto post-defection is seriously NOT a good person. at all.

stsg as a ship could be sooo much more interesting, imo, if people didn't erase the fact that geto BETRAYED gojo with what he did. not just the leaving. the village massacre, the parricide, the fact that he had no shame about it and stuck by his actions. all of those things betrayed gojo. bc i think gojo truly does want to help people, and he thought that, no matter how hard it was, he would always have geto along with him to do it, and that would make the pressure easier. instead geto chose to become one of the people that makes gojos job harder, lmao.

i think if shippers actually acknowledged that fact the ship wouldn't feel so fucking boring to me.

I’d save you from Twitter if I could, friend. Not saying other sites are free of harebrained idiots. I have Getou and satosugu blocked here for a reason, and I’ve seen screenshots of rancid fucking takes from TikTok and Instagram. Even Reddit—and I’m talking about canon discussion subreddits that generally ban ship talk—didn’t spare me from having to see people’s most reductive takes on this ship. But Twitter in particular seems to be where brain cells go to die.

Nothing in the world can make satosugu compelling to me, but objectively, it’s a ship with rich potential—for angst, for drama, for fluff, for toxicity, for love, for hate, for all of it combined. Like you’ve said, one of the most interesting facets of their relationship is how their bond culminates in betrayal. I’m personally quite interested in the fact that Gojou killed Getou despite loving him, after sparing him for eleven years because of the very same love. It’s not like Getou was ever harmless—he was a special-grade curse user, not the kind of threat you want running around. His cult activities and killings weren’t exactly subtle either. That angle—the fact that love makes Gojou turn a blind eye to Getou’s actions until he crosses a line even Gojou can’t abide—is very, very interesting to me as someone quite obsessed with Gojou’s characterization. People who have an equivalent interest in Getou would find plenty there to peel apart, probably. The two of them together would also offer rich, nuanced grounds for exploration, and I’m sure there are people doing just that.

But fandom spaces as a whole have become exceptionally sanitized recently. I’m not talking about people who generally simply prefer fluff and write that regardless of canon dynamics; there’s nothing wrong with that. We’re all allowed our self-indulgent tastes. But what you’ve described—a tendency to erase characters’ dark or grey morality, to think along black-and-white lines that put people into neat little boxes, to remove unsavory or unhealthy elements from relationships—has been plaguing fandoms more and more, especially fandoms with a large number of young(er) fans. JJK is definitely one of those.

I’ve seen similar takes on a lot of JJK ships as well as platonic relationships, like goyuu shippers asking why fic authors write Gojou as predatory toward Yuuji in canon settings with their canon ages (yeah, a real mystery why a 28 y/o romancing/fucking a 15 y/o would be written as predatory) and dad!Gojou truthers earnestly arguing that Gojou has paternal feelings toward Megumi (or Yuuji or his students in general) and is also such a good dad. I’ve seen it with even sukugo and tojigo, in the brief days before both wound up on my blacklist.

Basically, it’s a fandom-wide issue in the English-speaking JJK sphere (I’m sure the Eastern side and other language/region-specific sides have their own debates and issues, but I’m unfamiliar with those), and because satosugu is the biggest ship in this sphere, it has a significantly larger number of voices making themselves heard—as well as a significantly larger number of nuance-allergic dumbasses making themselves heard. The latter tends to be so fucking loud, often drowning out the other voices. It can feel inescapable, even with filters and shit.

[angelfic]

annabeth and grover frantically submerging percy in water the way you’d put an iphone in a bowl of rice

[kavehater]

Chappel Roan saying she’s sad she’s demisexual and then there’s me being aroace as a whole like don’t you think I’m even more sad 😭

[begay-doocs]

People stop being obtuse about calypso challenge; impossible

[adxmanial]

—

[pissfizz]

I’m going to lose my mind oh my god I am so scared for this quincenera wtf

[yourheartinyourmouth]

i fucking hate my life.

one of the other tenants has been constantly turning the heat up to EIGHTY even though it hasn’t dipped below 40. this lead to the heating bill for the unit being like, $300 more than the rest of the boarding house.

so, since we are apparently untrustworthy children and not adults who can be reasoned with, the landlord came while tenant was at work and put one of those plastic locking boxes over the thermostat. tenant came home ranting and screaming, calling husband and me bitches repeatedly, yelling abt how he always gets the mail (?), screaming about how we went behind his back to the landlord (we didn’t), and then SLAMMED his door as hard as he could.

screaming and door slamming are so fucking triggering for me. i had a melt down verging on anxiety attack.

i absolutely Do Not Feel Safe Here.

[granitxhka]

this is going to be the thing that ends me. apologize for what? for getting us higher on the table than we could’ve imagined after recent years? for letting us dream that a league title would be possible for us? all because it hurts? i would rather have the pain than to have never lived through this season with this group of players, to have never seen us win the nld away, the ødegaard black kit masterclasses, granit’s entire season, bukayo and nelli reaching g/a milestones, the summer games in the pink kit, wilo and big gabi at the back, aaron’s incredible saves, gabby jesus and zinny bringing a new kind of passion to the team, eddie’s last minute winner against utd, reiss’s 97th minute goal, jorgi and leo and kiwi coming in at the transfer window and having an impact immediately, leo’s 3 assists in one half, jorginho’s strike that lead to the m*rtinez og, winning games that no one ever expected us to win, mikel’s emotions on the touchline, and all the love the players showed for each other and the fans. we are more a family now than ever and not one person on this squad/staff (excluding the obvious) has a single thing to apologize for.

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

[saturdaymournings]

Fuck EVERYONE who ever taught me to hate myself. I was never like this before and I never deserved to feel this way about myself. The hardest part of this is the fact that I know it’s just been instilled in me! I could have been different. Fuck, I was different! I was happy to just exist as myself. I didn’t care what other people thought. Now I’m just like you. Fuck you for taking that away from me

[villainmorals]

⠀✧ | SYLUS QIN X F!READER. REMIND ME!

summary. six months after your breakup with sylus, news broke of you moving on, which is something he simply cannot allow—not if he can help it.

warnings. nsfw, infidelity, pet names, established history, hair pulling, face sitting, oral sex (female receiving) because sylus is a munch, doggy style, missionary, creampie, aftercare

wc. 6.1k

note. … so, this is my first time writing on this platform. i do not stand by anyone’s depicted behavior but… what can i say? I love an unconventional concept. ^.^ see you at the bottom!

Once news broke the N109 Zone of a prospering romance in his district, Sylus couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. It was when he heard whispers of your name adjacent to another man’s that he began to listen.

He was out the front door of his home within a second, his leg swinging over his bike before Luke and Kieran could have a say in the matter.

The two men stood side by side, shouting a frantic ‘it’s normal to move on, man!’ and a ‘it’s been six months!’ from the doorstep as they watched their white haired boss speed away.

Sylus was sure that if he gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle any tighter, they’d certainly break off.

If he was willing to harm his most prized possession over the pure frustration you’ve stirred within him, you should consider yourself the most lucky yet damned woman alive.

He liked to think he was headstrong, but when it came to you, he lost all of his sense. You consumed him and he gladly let you, because it truly was a blessing and a curse.

For how much he loved to put the pedal to the metal, he’s never once gotten to your apartment as fast as he has just now. He didn’t even bother to properly leave his bike in between the lines of a parking spot before he was practically flying towards your front door, knocking rapidly until you answered.

Surprise is etched across your face as you crack the door open just enough to see who your uninvited guest was, but a strong hand pushed it open even further. “What the fu—”

“Where is he?” he cuts you off with a question, his red eyes scanning your cozy living room like a predator on the prowl.

“Excuse you, I— what? Where is who?” your questions stammer out as your brain tries to catch up to the scene in front of you.

Sylus forces himself to turn around and face you, realizing that his erratic behavior was likely confusing you. He hated the look you were giving him, the one that made him feel like a pure inconvenience to you (even though he certainly was behaving like one).

“Your… boyfriend,” he clarifies, almost choking on the word. The fact that the title was no longer his was already a problem in and of itself, but losing it to another man was something he simply could not allow. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I see,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as you give him a once over. “You think that you’re going to barge into my apartment and pummel the ever living shit out of my boyfriend?”

“More or less,” he answers, his long strides continuing a bit further down your hallway. “Preferably more.”

You scoff, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you watch your ex–boyfriend scope out your apartment that he’s all too familiar with.

“He isn’t here.”

“So I’ve gathered,” he replies, his head poking into your bedroom.

Sylus did his best to sound nonchalant, though his heart rate was through the roof. He saw no signs of any male presence—no messily discarded clothes, no misplaced shoes, no second toothbrush in the bathroom—which meant that your relationship wasn’t as serious as he’d imagined.

And boy, was he relieved to figure that much out.

You straighten off the wall as he enters your bedroom, hurriedly walking behind him as you speak, “Y’know, since your objective for coming here can’t be achieved, you are more than welcome to leave.”

“Did I say that was my only objective?” he simply asks, his eyes scanning your bedroom.

A bit had changed since he’d last been in here. You changed your comforter to a floral pattern, and you even matched the drapes to the shade of your bedding.

Your attention to detail was something he admired about you, and his attention to detail was something you used to love, though as his eyes fell to your open underwear drawer—you’re growing to hate it. A lot.

“Get out of there!” you exclaim, rushing to shove it closed, only to catch his slender finger in the crossfire.

He winces slightly, lifting his already bruising finger to your line of vision. “You’ve wounded me, sweetie. Kiss it better?”

You scoff, slightly pushing his hand away from your face. In any other context, you would have apologized, but given the fact that Sylus had entered your apartment without invitation and threatened to harm your boyfriend within five minutes of his arrival was enough to make you think that this made the two of you almost even.

A small smirk tugs at Sylus’s lips as he presses his finger to his tongue, soothing the stinging that you caused. Your eyes linger on his mouth for a bit longer than they should, and if he noticed (which he certainly did), he didn’t say anything.

“I see you went shopping,” he mumbled, his eyes falling to your now closed underwear drawer. “That’s a shame, baby. A damn shame.”

You can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth. “Why’s that?”

“I hate the idea of another man seeing what’s mine,” Sylus answers, tilting his head to the side as he gives your body an agonizingly slow once over, “in such pretty fabric, at that.”

Heat rushes to your face at his implication, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable or if you’re flustered by his forwardness. You figure it’s a mixture of both, but you mask it with an annoyed huff.

“I can do what I want,” you refute, crossing your arms over your chest. “And if what I want is to buy panties that you’ll never have the privilege of seeing me wear, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head with the slightest smirk curving upwards on his lips. He finds your attitude to be just as adorable as it is frustrating. With the way you look, arms tightly crossed over your chest with the tiniest wrinkle in between your eyebrows, he’d liken you to an angry kitten.

“If you’re trying to rile me up, you’re succeeding,” he states, drumming his fingers on your dresser.

Your eyes flit away at that. “I’m not trying to do anything. In fact, I want nothing to do with you.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely upset with you from the moment he arrived. “Your boyfriend may fall for this little act of yours, but I won’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylus straightens up, his tall frame towering over you. You almost feel antsy under his gaze, but you do your best to hide it.

“I am what your heart truly desires,” he lowly murmurs, his finger tracing from the middle of your collarbones to the valley of your breasts. “And you can lie to him, you can even lie to yourself—but you cannot lie to me. I can see your deepest desires, remember?”

Betrayal is your body’s first instinct. Your breath hitches in your throat the moment the pad of his index finger runs across your skin, and you physically have to fight off a whine from escaping your lips.

In an attempt to salvage the situation, you straighten up, glancing towards your bedroom door. “That’s… bullshit, Sylus. Get out of my head.”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” he replies with a much gentler tone now. “And I’ll do no such thing. Your mind is my favorite place to be.”

He studies his reddened finger for a moment, silently deciding to steer the conversation from its more serious direction. “It still won’t feel better until it gets a kiss from its favorite girl, you know.”

Against your better judgment, your eyes betray you by studying the reddened pad of his finger. It shouldn’t be as enticing of a view as it is. You find it to be almost criminal.

“You can lose that finger for all I care,” you huff, trying not to remember how good it used to feel inside of you.

“So brash.” Sylus forces a pout on his lips, though it doesn’t last long. He presses a kiss to his own finger before he extends his arm to rest on the edge of your dresser, keeping you caged against your drawers.

“You’re awfully lucky that I’m a forgiving man,” he murmurs, his red eyes trained to yours. “You can do almost anything to me and I’d allow it.”

Judging by the way your expression lights up, that seems to give you an idea.

“Really?” you inquire, narrowing your eyes. “Say, if I punched you square in your face, would you allow it?”

“I’m not opposed to finding out,” he answers, his eyelids fluttering as he continues to drink in your beauty. “You know I love it when you’re rough with me.”

That comment forces a flush to your face, and you almost have to pinch yourself to keep your mind from bringing forward all of the memories that proved just how true that statement was.

It infuriates you how easily he could get a reaction out of you, no less than six months after you broke up with him. Perhaps that was why, in a split second decision (one that you’re hardly aware you’re making), your fist goes flying towards his face.

Sylus firmly stops your wielding hand before it can make contact with his cheek. His fingers unwind your fist and bring your hand close, allowing him to press a few chaste kisses to your knuckles.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the kisses he’s peppering on your hand. “So, so beautiful.”

Only he would say such a thing after you attempted to inflict bodily harm upon him. You wish you could rationalize his behavior, but you can’t—that’s just Sylus.

Your body betrays you in every way, shape, and form. Your face is flushed, your eyes are half lidded, and the mere contact of his lips on your knuckles is enough for butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

Grasping onto the last bit of common sense you have, you pull your hand from his grasp.

“It’s time for you to go,” you insist, beginning to slide against the dresser to escape his gaze.

Sylus allows you to create a bit of distance between the two of you, lifting his arm up from your dresser to let you walk away. The last thing he wants is to make you feel suffocated—the very reason you broke up with him in the first place.

He tried to do better, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t an animal, though. He loved you more than words could ever describe, and he’d allow you anything you wanted. And if physical space was what you wanted, he’d grant it to you.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” he quietly says, his voice carrying an unforeseen vulnerability to it, “but I can’t do what you’re asking of me. I can’t let you give yourself to a bastard who doesn’t deserve you.”

Your eyebrows raise. “How can you be so sure he doesn’t deserve me?”

“I know you, baby. That’s how.”

A beat of silence passes, and he conjures up the courage to continue. “And I’m positive there isn’t a single soul who could possibly deserve your favor,” Sylus reasons, loosely crossing his arms over his broad chest, his toned biceps showing through the sleeves of his black button–up shirt. “Not even myself. I’m man enough to recognize that.”

His answer catches you off guard, but you do your best to maintain your front. You don’t want him to see how his words seem to squeeze at your heart.

“Then why are you here?” you genuinely ask.

Sylus knows he’s backed himself into a corner, and contrary to what you might think, he’d intended to do just that.

He wants you to give him the green light to speak every word that he’s longed to say to you from the moment he’d seen you last, and now that you have, the floodgates are open.

“I’m selfish,” he admits, taking a tentative step towards you. “I’m drunk on you, and I can’t bear the thought of sobering up, even after all this time. It’s unfair, it’s horrible, it’s cruel—I know this, sweetie. But… I find my serenity in your eyes, and with you gone, my life is purgatory. The confines of hell must be more pleasant than what it is that I feel when I’m without you.”

Internally, you’re floored. Gobsmacked, even. Externally, you’re looking at him with the same soft expression you’ve worn this entire time.

Met with your silence, Sylus begins to internally panic. He slowly takes a few steps towards you, and when you don’t attempt to maintain the distance between you, his hands move to cup your face.

“Rid me of this life,” he whispers, his mouth so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips. “I cannot go on, not without you beside me.”

You truly hate how easy it is for him to reduce you to nothing but putty. You have a new boyfriend, you’ve moved on, you’ve allowed the love that you and Sylus shared to be nothing more than history.

You wanted to believe that moving forward was the best thing you could do, but if that was true, why is it that your heart hadn’t felt full until you laid eyes on Sylus? It seems to beat differently, like it’s finally come back to life in his presence.

Noticing the softening of your eyes, Sylus can’t help himself. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, holding both of you there for a few seconds. The sheer tenderness of his action was enough to make you melt, and you were sure you would’ve if his hands on your face weren’t grounding you.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, tilting your head up so that he can look into your eyes.

Sylus was never one for verbal affection (or being desperate for a woman’s favor) prior to you, but he’d make this exception a million times over if it meant he could have you however you’d let him.

You’ve nearly forgotten all of your allegiances, and you can’t even blame yourself for it. You know that indulging in him is like eating a forbidden fruit, and even then, you can’t forbid yourself from its taste—not when you know how sweet it is. What you feel goes beyond want; it’s pure, unadulterated need.

“No response for me?” he asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You carefully slide out of his grasp and sit on the edge of your bed, his eyes trailing you as you do so.

You’re a firm believer that nothing is real until you’ve said it out loud, and Sylus is more than aware of that. He doesn’t want to push you too hard, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

As you sit, your thighs naturally part and your skirt rides up just a bit, and the sight of the pink fabric clothing your pussy is enough to elicit behavior that you’ve never once seen from Sylus.

“God, you are a privilege,” he murmurs, taking a few steps towards you. Without hesitation, he slowly descends to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your thighs. “Such a sight,” he adds his eyes flitting to the dampening fabric of your underwear, “such a beautiful sight.”

If his words weren’t enough, the sight of him kneeling in front of you was enough to make you faint. (Or scream. Or cum. Maybe all three at the same time, you’re not sure.)

“Allow me the night,” Sylus pleads, his glowing red eyes finally locking onto yours. His hand moves to brush your hair from your face, tucking it loosely behind your ear. “Just the night. One night to indulge you.”

Lying would be no use, all things considered. He’d already shamelessly eyed the needy area between your thighs, knowing that the arousal collecting there is for him. Your stomach swirls with a mixture of guilt and need, and you honestly feel like you’re in an impossible position.

“Sylus,” you breathe, your heartbeat thumping so hard that you’re surprised your chest hasn’t burst. “This is so wrong.”

He shakes his head as his large, gentle hands move to rest on your knees. “Your pleasure means more to me than a simple case of right and wrong.”

“I wish it was as simple as you make it seem,” you say, a long sigh leaving you.

“Can’t it be?” Sylus questions, his thumbs idly stroking your knees. “Allow me this one night to remind you of how I feel about you, how you feel about me. If you want me to leave you alone by the time morning comes, I will accept that with a smile.”

You’d like to imagine that you’re stronger than this, that the idea of a final night of lovemaking with your ex-boyfriend to get him out of your head for good isn’t appealing—but it is.

It’s something you’ve thought about before (in the dead of night with your hand stuffed down your shorts), but never did you think it could become a reality.

Only now, with him kneeling in front of you, it was.

“Okay,” you sheepishly murmur. “Remind me.”

You know this is absolutely horrible of you to do, but you can’t find the will to deny yourself this. As much as you tried to get Sylus out of your head, you never could. Not long enough for it to make a difference, anyway.

(Perhaps this, a final intimate night between the two of you, will be just what you need to move on for good.)

Sylus knows that his time with you is limited, but he plans to make it the best night of your existence.

(Perhaps if he can remind you of how much he’s willing to give, how much he loves you, how much he’s missed you—you’ll change your mind.)

His large, strong hands trail up as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, pressing a few kisses to your calves and inner thighs. He presses a kiss to the fabric of your underwear, his tongue drawing out to taste the wet spot of fabric.

Sylus isn’t sure what’s come over him, but he honestly feels like he’ll either implode or cry at the sight of you right now. To have you again is something he’s dreamt about more than he’d like to admit, and he plans to show you just how much your absence has affected him as his fingers slide beneath your skirt to hook under the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Thank you,” he mutters against your skin, tugging the fabric down your legs. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters aloud the moment his eyes land on your heat.

He could seriously cum in his pants right now, and if he’s not careful, he will. His hands lock onto your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed to give him better access to your glistening cunt.

“Pussy’s all mine,” he breathes, licking a long stripe up your slit.

You would have replied if he hadn’t buried his face in between your thighs. His tongue laps at your wetness before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly at it with hollowed cheeks.

A cry leaves your lips at the sensation, your hand gripping onto his white hair as you revel in the feeling his tongue is giving you.

He’s eating you out like a man starved, his own moans rumbling into your cunt, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. Sylus could do this for days if you let him, but after not having you like this for so long, he can’t help himself from needing more.

Within moments, he’s slowly pushing you higher on your bed, still licking at your pussy until he’s physically unable to. He looks up at you with crazed eyes, licking his spit-slick lips as he kicks his shoes off.

“Sit on my face,” he murmurs, moving to lay on your bed. When he’s met with your hesitance, he’s grasping onto your arm to carefully pull you towards him. “I might die without it.”

You’ve never once seen a man so pussy drunk in your entire life, but you’re in absolutely no position to deny him. So, you move to hover above him, your hands resting on your headboard. You hear a satisfied moan beneath you, and he’s soon hooking his arms around your thighs.

“You won’t die without it,” you grumble. “In fact, you might die because of it. Suffocation—”

“Suffocation of this kind might be the best way to go,” he cuts you off, licking a faint swipe against your folds. “In fact, when we’re old and withered, it might be my last ask of you.”

Your face flushes, and you can feel heat rushing to both your cunt and your cheeks. Noticing the coy face you’re making, Sylus can’t help himself from laying a faint smack on your ass, squeezing its plushness as he stares up at you.

“For now, though,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I want you to let go for me. Can’t have you dangling this pretty cunt in my face without letting me taste it.”

As you hesitantly begin to relax your thighs and lower on top of him, he lifts his head up to meet you halfway and gather your slick on his tongue.

“Very good, baby,” Sylus purrs, dropping his head back onto your sheets as he pulls your hips down the rest of the way, “now sit.”

When all of your weight crashes down on him, a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sheer passion behind the movements of his tongue. He almost seems to be more incentivized. His eyes flutter shut as he mouths at your pussy, the moans leaving his mouth in combination with the absolute filthy sounds of his tongue are enough to drive you insane.

Sylus feels like he’s finally left purgatory and has transcended into heaven. With his pretty girl on his face, taking her on his tongue, making the most beautiful little noises—he’s honestly never felt better.

(Well, there is that whole new boyfriend thing looming in the back of his mind, but he’s sure that you’ll take care of that once he’s done taking care of you.)

One of your hands leaves the headboard to grasp onto his hair, your eyes screwing shut as you rock your hips over his tongue. “Sylus,” you breathe out through a moan. “I’m— oh, shit—”

Sylus’s cock twitches as you moan his name, his eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands help to guide the rocking of your hips. With his other, he palms himself through his trousers, his mouth working tirelessly to make you feel good.

Even as self-admittedly selfish as he is, he can’t bear the idea of putting his pleasure above your own—even if the ache is physically eating away at him. With you writhing above him, the sounds you’re making, the look on your face, it’s all too much—even for him.

Your mouth lulls open as you let out the most beautiful whine he’s ever heard, and his tongue slows down, working you through your first orgasm of the night. He eagerly collects your juices with his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he finally presses a final kiss to your swollen clit.

“I can stay this way forever,” he says against your inner thigh, placing a kiss to your warm skin, “you and me,” he places another kiss, “together.”

You shift to lay beside him, out of breath and looking beautifully disheveled. Sylus licks his lips and lies starry–eyes beside you. Soon enough, a huff of laughter escaped his throat, realizing he might’ve said too much there.

Sylus turns his head to look at you. “Was that enough to get an ‘I miss you too’ out of that mouth of yours?”

You let out a breathless laugh, your hand running over your face. “No,” you lie.

That was the best orgasm you’ve had since your breakup, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You’ve developed quite the attitude,” he muses, rolling on top of you. He slots his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

“That boyfriend of yours must not fuck it out of you like he should,” he adds, the low volume of his voice rumbling against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, “like I can.”

Before you can think twice, you’re lifting your hips against the bulge in his pants, a soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the very prominent shape of his hardened cock. With a grunt, Sylus pushes your hips down, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs.

“Such a needy little thing,” he purrs, his hand moving to cup your mound. “First you’re insisting I leave, and now you’re hoping I’ll give you my cock. You’re sending me mixed signals here, baby.”

You’re seeing stars, and your hand grasps onto his wrist, feeling the way his muscles tense as he begins to toy with your clit.

“I want it,” you whine, your toes curling as the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, “you’re… you’re being a tease.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, licking a long stripe up your neck. “If you want it bad enough, you’re gonna have to prove it, baby.”

Your head tilts to the side as Sylus pulls away from your neck to look down at you. His fingers move to work at the button of your skirt, tugging it down your legs and tossing it onto the floor of your room.

“How?” you ask.

He presses his lips to yours as his hands tug up your shirt, breaking the kiss to carefully pull it over your head. His large hands palm at your breasts, bringing your perked nipples in between his fingers.

“Pick up the phone,” Sylus answers, releasing your breasts to sit up in front of you, his hands moving to undo his belt.

Your curiosity soon turns into something much more lustful as he pulls his trousers and boxers down his thighs. His shirt goes next, the fabric decorating your floor. His cock looks even better than you remember, but he snaps his fingers in front of your face to gather your attention.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, shaking your head to snap yourself out of your trance.

“Pick up the phone,” he repeats, reaching to your bedside table to hand you your cell.

You take the device from him, looking at it with confusion. You were embarrassed that you hadn’t even noticed it ringing, far too distracted by the sight of him stroking his hand along his length, but your embarrassment soon turns into dread as you read the caller ID.

It is, of course, none other than your boyfriend.

“Sylus, that’s— that’s crazy,” you stammer out, looking between his eyes, his cock, and your phone.

He snickers, and he flips you onto your stomach, his hands grasping onto the plush of your hips to pull your ass up. “What’s crazy is the fact that you expect me to fuck you without your boyfriend’s knowledge.”

“You’re above adultery?” you gasp out.

Sylus shakes his head, his hand moving to prod your entrance with the tip of his cock, his other hand grasping onto your hair to pull you back against his chest.

“Obviously not,” he replies, licking along the shell of your ear. “Just wanna show him how beneath it you are.”

Your heart slams against your chest as he takes the device from you and answers the call, holding the phone to your ear.

“Let him hear,” he purrs, slowly pushing his cock inside of you. “The noises you make with my cock buried inside you are such a prize. It’d be a disservice to not share.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as he tugs on your hair, tilting your head to give himself better access to your neck as he bottoms out inside of you. “Tell him what you’re up to, sweetie,” he simply says, sucking a faint mark onto your neck.

On the other end of the line, your partner begins to blab on about his day, though you’re hardly able to listen, not when Sylus is pushing his cock inside of you like a madman. Your body tenses as he stretches you out, the sensation forcing a moan out of your mouth, though the man on the other end of the line didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, resting his chin on the crook of your shoulder to press an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, “taking my cock so nicely. Missed this pussy so much.”

“—so then, I told him… wait. Are you with someone?”

Your heart rate skyrockets as Sylus draws his hips back only to pound the length of his cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck… y-yes,” you choke into the phone, almost breathless.

“Thank you for your confession, my dear,” Sylus teasingly remarks, knowing that your response was a reaction to how good he feels inside of you rather than an answer to your boyfriend’s question.

He presses a faint kiss to your shoulder as he thrusts into you again, using his grip on your hair to push you back onto your stomach. He then brings the phone to his own ear, watching with a wide grin as you arch your back to take as much of his cock as you can.

“Our friend can’t talk right now,” he says into the receiver, grunting as your walls clench around him. “She’s gotten lost and found herself on my cock, which is such a positive turn of events, let me tell you,” the pace of his hips thrusting into you only seems to get more intense with each word he says, “considering it’s right where she belongs.”

“W-what? Who the fuck are you? I—”

“I can’t stay on the line to talk much either,” Sylus continues, his free hand grasping a bit tighter onto your hair as he tugs on it to fuck deeper and harder inside of you, his skin slapping against yours with each heavy thrust. “Have to make her cum for all the times you couldn’t.”

You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensations, your mouth gaped open as you moan out with each thrust he makes, your back arched as much as you could make it. You can feel a pool of warmth building inside of your lower stomach, and you let out a cry of pleasure.

You haven’t been fucked this good in, well… six months. That much is obvious to the both of you, given the way you’ve been losing your mind with each forceful push of his hips. He knows your body in ways you’ll never understand, and luckily for you, you don’t need to understand in order to receive the pleasure that he’s desperately trying to give you.

“Sylus!” you gasp out, serving as a warning for how close you already are.

“Mm, gotta go, duty calls,” Sylus says into the phone, releasing his grip on your hair to move his hand between your legs, two of his fingers circling your clit. “Call my woman again and I’ll kill you.”

Tapping the screen to end the call, he tosses your phone mindlessly, and it’s only when you hear it drop against the floor do you turn around to look at him.

“Sylus!” you scold.

He gives you a wry smile as he slowly pulls out of you, rolling you onto your back. “I’ll buy you a new one, pretty. Don’t worry.”

You open your mouth to protest, but when he slowly pushes his cock inside of you again, you’re hardly in the protesting mood at all.

Sylus towers over you, his forearm propping him up as he slowly fucks into you, his red eyes trained to yours. “God, baby, I’ve missed you.”

Almost instinctively, your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. There was a hidden intimacy of this position that you’ve always loved. He obliges to your request, resting his forehead on yours as he thrusts harder inside of you.

“You take me so well,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So, so beautifully.”

You mewl at the softness of his praise, your eyes glossing over as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your walls tensing around him. He hisses at the feeling, dipping his head to press a kiss on your cheek.

He can tell that you’re close, and he knows just what you need. He won’t give it to you so easily, though.

“Sweetie?” he breathes out.

You nod your head before breathlessly replying, “yeah?”

Sylus gives you a smirk as he raises his bruised finger to your lips. “Kiss it better. Let me use it on you.”

Protest is not on your agenda anymore, not by a long shot. You kiss the pad of his finger without hesitation, and you proceed to capture it with your mouth, your tongue soothing the bruising.

He smiles at the sight, a groan leaving his lips as he continues to thrust his cock inside of you. “So pretty, baby. God, you’re beautiful.”

Sylus retracts his finger from your mouth to bring it to your clit, his spit-slick finger rubbing it in beautiful, moan-earning circles. He watches as your eyes almost immediately haze over at the stimulation.

He lowers his head to suck on your nipple, his free hand palming at your other breast as means of stimulating you in any way he can. After a moment, he latches onto your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak.

“God, ah— Sylus!” you moan, your hands wrapping around his neck.

He nips at your breast before he pulls away, a guttural moan leaving his mouth as he feels you clench around his cock. “You gonna come for me again, beautiful?”

You nod your head, rising up from the pillow to press a kiss on his lips, and his large hand moves to cup the back of your head as he kisses you through your orgasm. His fingers gently thread through your hair, giving you the best of both worlds.

“Cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours, always will be,” he mutters against your lips, his thrusts growing slower as he twitches inside of you.

Sylus breaks the kiss to look down at you, a heavy pant leaving him. “Where do you want me?” he breathlessly asks.

As if that were a question you ever responded differently to, he still needed to ask, even though you answered just the same. “In… in me.”

He nods his head as he thrusts inside of you a few more times, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek as he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full of his thick, white cum.

A moment passes in which the two of you simply pant breathlessly to each other, your sweaty foreheads pressed together. It was a beautiful scene by all measures.

“I missed you too,” you finally pant out, a smile breaking your lips. “I missed you a lot.”

He chuckles breathlessly at that. “I missed you even more, sweetie.”

Sylus presses a soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you, traveling slowly to your bathroom before returning with a damp towel. He settles in front of you again, using the warm towel to gently clean up the mess he’s made of you between your legs.

You stare at him with the most lovestruck eyes he’s ever seen, and it only makes him smile. “You tired, baby?” he lowly asks.

Nodding your head, you extend your arms to him, and he pulls you into his arms without question. He lies down on his back, holding you against his chest. His large hand runs over your back while the other one tugs your blankets over the both of you, giving you a bit of warmth.

Not that he needed anything more than your presence. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, holding the woman that he loves, running his fingers through her hair just as he used to.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. It’s almost concerning how much he loves you, but he can’t help it.

“I love you,” you lazily return the sentiment.

As you cuddle into his chest, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up today, if he’d left you alone, if he let you move on.

You know it’s crazy to think about.

After all, it’s Sylus. Your Sylus. He’s the only person you’ve ever needed, and now that he’s reminded you of that, you won’t forget it.

note: thank you for reading! please interact if you enjoyed!! <3 i don’t even know what the hell this is—we have possessive, dominant, and soft sylus in one go. but hey, it works for me, so i hope it works for you. pls pls pls give me ideas to write more for this sexy man—i never get tired of him!

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

[hadersversion]

I. i can fix him (no really i can)

“he had a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn’t met me yet.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn!!

mood board!

“hey,” i said, nudging him with my foot. “hey, rafe, i think it’s time for you to get up.”

i look down at the boy who was passed out on the ground of the beach. his shaved head covered in sand as beer bottles surrounded him. his eyes fluttered open at me, staring at me. “w-where the hell am i?” he said, slowly sitting up.

“the beach, it’s 6:30 in the morning.” i sigh, looking at my watch. “i assume you were at a party here last night and got ditched on the beach by your friends.”

i watched as he looked around the empty beach and groaned, covering his face with his hands and yawning. “fuck.” he mumbled to himself. he ran his hands down once before looking back at me. “thanks, for uh-….”

i laugh to myself. “making sure you were alive? don’t mention it.”

he nods with a smirk. “yeah, that.” we stay there in silence. “i’m sorry, w-what’s your name again? i recognize you from your friends i just…”

“y/n y/l/n.” i nod at him.

“y/n y/l/n.” he repeats back at me, not once breaking eye contact with me.

i feel my face heat up, not knowing what i’m feeling in this exact moment. this is rafe fucking cameron, kook prince and sworn enemy to my friends. he’s not a good person. i know who he is and i should hate him, but when his eyes pierce through me like that…like he knows all my secrets….that’s when i start to question reality. “well, i should get going.” i say, pointing awkwardly to the beach.

“it’s 6:30 in the morning, where could you possibly be going?” he asks, pushing his knees up and resting his arms on them.

i sigh and look around, feeling like i’m in the hot seat. “uh…it’s uh…it’s dumb, you wouldn’t wanna know.” i try to dismiss him.

“no, i wanna know, tell me.” he says, sternly.

i bite my lip and sigh. “towatchthedolphins.” i say in a fast whisper.

“what was that?” he asks with a cocky smile, making me blush. “i couldn’t hear ya, could ya speak up?”

“i’m watching the dolphins!” i say more clearer, looking down at him. “i’ve been waking up early and watching the dolphins. this is like their prime time, so i like to sit and watch them while i have my breakfast.” i admit to him.

i wait there, expecting him to laugh or do something heinous that rafe cameron would do to a pogue. but he doesn’t. he just nods. “cool, i didn’t know that was like a thing.”

did i take one of kie’s edibles this morning by accident? did i actually never wake up to my alarm and i’m still tucked away in bed? or did rafe cameron just have a super normal reaction to something i said to him?

“yeah, right now is the best season for it.” i inform him with a shy smile on my face.

he continues to stare at me with those fucking perfect blue eyes. he rakes over my body once and stands up. did he just check me out? “well, y/n, enjoy those dolphins. i should probably get home before my dad has a bitch fit. thanks again.” he waves goodbye to me before staggering away towards the exit of the beach. my body lets out a breathe that i didn’t even know i was holding and i start to feel tingly inside.

what the fuck just happened?

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

after that, i seem to find rafe cameron everywhere. as i ride my bike to work, go to the beach, hang out with the pogues. he’s clouded up my brain and i have no idea what to do. it’s not like i can tell anyone, i’d be marked with a scarlet T for traitor. but my thoughts can’t stop themself from being infiltrated by him.

“yo, y/n, everything cool?” jj asks me, sipping from his beer.

he snaps me from my rafe cameron brain rot, taking me by surprise. “yeah, everything’s alright. sorry, just a little tired.”

a whole group of us hang out by the beach at the boneyard, the usual pogues, some kooks who we invited in to fuck with, and the vacationers. everything was going alright, until i saw him.

“ain’t no fuckin way.” i hear jj spit.

rafe and his friends stroll up to the party, with a few girls scattered around them. i feel my face goes hot as my friends spit their remarks about him.

“what makes this douchebag think it’s okay to just show up here?” i hear kiara say.

“i don’t know but i don’t like it.” john b adds in.

my eyes can’t seem to leave his figure. he looks just as handsome as i remember from the beach. i know i am staring but i just cannot seem to care. but my brain short wires when he looks up, meeting my gaze with a cocky smirk. shit.

i feel my face get darker as i quickly avert my gaze down to my feet. "uh, i'm gonna get a beer. anyone want one?" but before my friends can even answer my question, i quickly make my way over to the coolers. once i know i am out of their sight, i take a well needed deep breathe and try to ground myself. my brain feels fuzzy with thoughts of rafe cameron but i have to push them down.

i bend over to grab a beer from the cooler when i hear a familiar voice behind me. "mind if i grab one?" i quickly turn my head to see rafe, staring into his blue eyes like they were the goddamn eighth wonder of the world.

he's so close yet so far away, i can smell the expensive cologne he has on. my brain gets off of autopilot and screams at me to put space between us, which i attempt to do. but before i can think, i'm tripping over my own feet, almost falling back. but i feel rafe's large hand quickly land on my lower back, saving me from the tumble.

"woah, there, did you already have that much to drink?" he jokes.

i stare at him, my face probably matching the color of a budweiser can. "i...uh...i..um..." i feel myself babbling on, unable to form a single thought as he has his hands on my body. "s-sorry about that. but i...i've only had one beer, i'm just a total klutz sometimes i swear."

he keeps his hand on my back, i can feel him slightly rubbing it, sending goosebumps all over my body. he keeps looking into my eyes, which seems to be his favorite hobby at this point. "well, i'm glad i caught ya." we stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity, until i remember where i am. who i am here with.

my friends.

i frantically look around, making sure they aren't looking at me dying under rafe’s touch. i pull away from him quickly.

"don't worry they aren't looking." he reassures, grabbing my beer and opening it for me. "i assume it's your friends you are looking for." he hands me back the cold beverage, our fingers brushing against each other.

i quickly snap my hand back and look up at him, he has a small smile on his face as he looks down at me. "sorry, but, i mean...you understand, right? my friends don't like you, you don't like them. if they see me talking over here with you...it'll be a whole thing."

"i didn't peg you as someone who cares about what other people thought about them. i don't know, i mean you did admit to me very easily your love for dolphin watching." he smirks as he grabs a can of beer and opens it. "just saying."

i want to hide away forever. "p-please don't mention that to anyone else. please." i beg with an awkward smile.

"i won't, i won't. don't get so freaked out." he takes a long sip of beer. "it's kinda cute." he says so nonchalantly.

did he just call me cute?

this is a prank, this is merely a big joke to him. it has to be.

i can tell i took too long to process what he just said because he nudges me lightly with his elbow. "did i lose you there?"

i shake my head and laugh. "sorry, i'm all good." we stand there, sipping our beers in silence. "why are you here?" i ask with no hesitation, which earns me a wide-eye reaction from rafe. "that was rude but...like for real, why? you never come to pogue parties. i thought we were too beneath you to ever join us."

"i mean, you have a point." he looks down at me with a smirk, which makes me flip him off. he chuckles at me and sips his beer. "honesty?"

"please." i say.

he sighs and looks around. "i'm here to see you."

i choke on the sip of beer i'm taking, too shocked at what he just told me. i watch as he steps forward in concern and tries to put his hand on my back, but i move away quickly. i cough agressively before turning to him. "i-i'm sorry, what?" i almost laugh in his face.

"i'm pretty sure you heard me, y/n. i'm here for you." he admits.

i stare at him, waiting for him to laugh, admit that it was a joke, or even a ploy to mess with the pogues like some kind of goddamn trojan horse. "you're serious?"

"i think you would know if i'm lying." he shrugs.

i stand there, unable to wrap my head around what he just said to me. "you're so full of shit." i blurt out.

he just laughs. "am i now?"

"you're here to see me? the girl whose name you couldn't even remember a few days ago?" i cock my eyebrow at him.

"is it so horrible to believe?" he questions. i look at him, trying to tell if this is real or fake. he waves his hand in front of my face. "i lost you there again."

"i'm sorry, it's just...i'm me...and you're you. we exist on totally different planets...universes." i tell him.

"yet here we are, right next to each other on planet earth." he says.

he got me there.

"y/n!?" i hear kiara yell.

rafe turns his head to the voice calling my name and then back to me. "that's your cue to leave, i think."

i cannot turn away from him, too dumbfounded about the past 5-minute conversation we just had. "you're not slick." i say, starting to walk away backwards so i'm facing him.

"i didn't think i was being slick!" he says, with his hands up in his defence.

"i see through you and your lies, rafe cameron! i really do!" i yell at him as i get further away.

"yeah, i'd like to see you try, y/n y/l/n!" he shouts back, smiling at me.

i crack a smile back to him and flip him off before walking into the crowd, looking for kiara.

she comes up and puts her shoulder around me. "you all good? was he bothering you?" she asks, looking back to where rafe and i were.

i follow her gaze and see rafe still standing there with that same look on his face. "no, he wasn't. i'm all good, i swear." i say honestly. "just having a small talk."

"with the kook prince? no one ever just has a 'small talk' with rafe cameron, y/n." she says, squeezing me tighter.

"well i guess i'm the first person to ever do so." i shrug and continue to walk back towards the boys, trying to hide the stupid smile rafe cameron put on my face.