#Despite this I am still puzzled and perplexed

[worddevourer]

Campaign 3 has turned into a tangled web exceptionally quickly.

Ira was working for Treshi for money.

Treshi was sowing discord in Jrusar to get the Paragon's Call inside.

The Paragon's Call is led by Otohan.

Otohan has appeared in Imogen's dreams.

Imogen's dreams are related to Ruidus.

The other people studying Ruidus, from the opposite side, are Fearne's parents.

Fearne's parents are working with Ira.

Which means this is all one big loop including people who are nominally on polar opposite sides of this conflict.

But also, though, it seems pretty likely that the assassins Orym is tracking are the same as the shadow assassins that have been stalking members of the Grim Verity, but also probably the people appearing behind Otohan in Imogen's dreams, and also probably the 'shadow assassins' that Yu was threatening them with, since Otohan is apparently working with the Unseelie Court.

And also, judging by their descriptions and the way they're not quite real, they're probably also Dunamancy clones, or alternate timeline versions of people.

And somehow, all of this links back to the the moon, which appeared at around the time two gods apparently vanished from the pantheon? Apparently?

I technically have heard many things that I rightwise should not have known about yet, and despite even my advance knowledge, I'm kind of baffled by it.

[vixstarria]

'Erotic misadventures'

Hello, I wrote this for an April Fools challenge, and now it is your problem.

Challenge terms: The challenge is simple - write something spicy that uses the worst possible terms for body parts, sex acts, and so on!

AO3 link

So I've always had this headcanon that Tav and Astarion perform readings of really bad erotica for the group at camp. This is a depiction of one such evening.

All origin characters.

18+, humor, banter. Is this actually smut? I don't know. I hope not.

Content warnings: ...Yes.

Approx. 1,800 words

It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the best piece of fiction they’d ever come across.

Meticulously handwritten in a tidy script, the text filled a sizeable journal. “Her Highness’s Erotic Misadventures” read the title. “Thank you for beta reading, Harpy Quinn”, it said at the bottom of the title page, whatever that meant. 

Despite both of them having a professional interest in lewd literature, neither Astarion nor Tav had ever come across this piece before - they doubted it had ever been published. They doubted it could ever be published, for that matter. However, it must have gone through many hands privately - on flipping through the journal it was discovered that the end contained a multitude of little gushing reviews in other people’s writing.

The author must have been one strange individual, with even weirder friends. How embarrassing.

The gang had called it a day and were gathered around the campfire. Astarion and Tav had been taking turns reading from the manuscript, to their companions’ amusement (and, in Gale’s case, vexation).

Despite being seasoned experts in the genre, Wyll and Shadowheart were visibly perturbed (albeit also intrigued) by the piece. Karlach hung on to every word, and even Lae’zel had stopped tending to her weapons to listen to the strange tale spun by the anonymous author. Volo, whose unwarranted presence continued to be tolerated, although no one could quite pinpoint why, was silent, furiously scribbling notes in his own journal. And as for Gale, well…

“This is deplorable,” said Gale, weary disappointment and disdain in his voice. “The only reason I am still here is because none of you can be trusted with the pot.”

 Astarion ignored him and continued to pace around the fire, reading aloud from the journal.

As the title suggested, the story depicted a series of obscene misfortunes which had befallen a hapless princess and her loyal knight. After several chapters of delving into the princess’s tragic and salacious backstory in (frankly bewildering) detail, the narrative had at last moved forward to a scene in which the princess’s knight came to her rescue after she had been kidnapped and taken away to a cave by a dragon. The knight faced the said dragon (who had then taken a dragonborn form for some reason) and its two harpy henchwomen.

“‘Its weak spot is its bussy’, the princess cried out from the cave,” read Astarion. “What in the hells is a ‘bussy’..?” he asked, lifting his head to seek counsel from his companions. 

Everyone around the fire just shook their heads, equally perplexed. 

“Hmm… Well, it seems our hero doesn’t know that word either...” Astarion continued reading.

“‘Puzzled, the paladin took a shot in the dark, cramming her manhood-’ Wait, what? I could have sworn...” Astarion shuffled through the pages. “…Oh she’s got both sets. How convenient… Anyway. …‘Cramming her manhood into the dragonborn’s meatgrinder’.” Astarion frowned again, sitting down next to Karlach.  

“Is the ‘meatgrinder’ the dragonborn’s mouth, or..?” asked Shadowheart.  

“I… think so? There’s not many contextual clues here, it just says that the ‘meatgrinder swirled around her pork sword, stunning her and nearly making her forsake her oath of propriety’.” 

“Well keep going, we’ll figure it out,” Karlach said, impatiently.

“The two harpies swarmed the stunned paladin. A hand deftly shed the paladin’s breastplate, exposing her pearls, whilst another grabbed her by the neck, clawed fingers shredding the remnants of her clothing, as two hands groped and teased her milkbags. She felt a hand creep up the back of her thigh while another hand pulled on her hair, as another crept to her moistening oyster-” Astarion stopped, with an exasperated sigh. “How many hands do these bloody things have?! I’m losing focus.” 

“And the mention of pearls…” Wyll said, thoughtfully. “It’s peculiar, you would think a pearl would be inside the… never mind”.  

 “Shadowheart, could you and Tav assist us with a visual, perchance,” asked Astarion. “I can’t be the only one who can’t keep track.”

“Perhaps I could also be of assis-” started Wyll.  

“Perhaps you could sit right back down,” Astarion warned with a glower. “I'll step in if needed. Where was I..? Ah yes, the err… the milkbags. So there’s definitely two hands there.”  

Both Tav and Shadowheart giggled as Shadowheart stood to join Tav by the fire and reached around Tav to lightly place her hands over the other woman’s breasts.

“Nice,” said Karlach. 

“The harpy pinched her pearls, and pulled her into a deep, ravishing kiss,” Astarion read, looking up expectantly at Tav and Shadowheart.

“Uh… That is not in the book, soldier,” said Karlach, reading over Astarion’s shoulder.  

“Spoilsport,” muttered Astarion. “I was just trying to set the mood before moving forward - the author’s pace is almost too relentless even for me. But fine.” 

Astarion cleared his throat and continued. 

“Then one of the harpies used her hands to pry open the paladin’s clam.” He looked up again. “Well come on, Shadowheart, pry open Tav’s clam.” 

Shadowheart simply laughed and returned to her spot across the fire. 

“If you’re not sure how - we could show you later tonight, if you like,” Astarion called out after her. 

“I’m sure I could give you some pointers on dealing with clams, Astarion,” retorted Shadowheart. 

“Is that so..?” he purred. “Interesting… What about you, Karlach, are you adept with clams?” 

“You know I haven’t had any clams in a decade, fangs!” Karlach groaned. “But before that… They used to just fling themselves at me, already opened, yeah.” 

“Fascinating. Lae’zel?” 

“There are a number of women who have survived bedding me,” the githyanki responded, deadpan. 

“I am… in equal parts concerned and aroused at the thought,” Astarion mulled over her words. 

“I wish anyone could survive bedding me,” grumbled Karlach. 

“There there, darling…” Astarion reached out to carefully pat her on a horn. “Now we all know Gale doesn’t know the first thing about clams…” 

“I’ll have you know, in my ethereal relations with my goddess, our connection was so profound that not only have I experienced her ‘clam’, I have interconnected with it on such a sublime and intimate level, been woven so deeply into it to myself have become part of the clam.” 

Gale’s outburst failed to have the effect he had desired, as the group struggled to contain themselves, wheezing and huffing for air. 

“Thank you, Gale, I don’t believe I’ll be able to get that image out of my mind anytime soon,” Astarion continued, trying to maintain his composure. “Wyll..? How fare you with prying clams open?” 

“Well…” The warlock began, with a smile. “I find, that the best way to go about it is to allow the clam to open of its own accord, from heat. From it getting sufficiently… steamy, if I may. I would never simply invade one with my blade.” 

Astarion was about to say something but just chortled instead. 

“Wyll, you rapscallion, every time I think I have you figured out-” 

“What happens next with the harpies?” Came an impatient call from Lae’zel. 

“Yes, give me that, you’re taking too long,” said Tav, snatching the journal back from Astarion. She continued to pace around the fire as she recited: 

“The dragonborn stood before the browbeaten paladin, reveling in her anguish. Even had the harpies not had a firm grasp on the paladin and her unmentionables, she would not have known how to approach the dragonborn – the loathsome creature was covered in impenetrable scales. Its mouth sported rows upon rows of sharp teeth – the only reason it allowed the paladin’s mutton machete out unscathed must have been because it had worse yet torments in mind for it.

The creature turned its back on the paladin, to roar tauntingly at the princess somewhere in the cave. 

‘Behold, as I turn your valiant saviour into naught but a pathetic cumdumpster!’

As it turned its back, the paladin glimpsed a narrow, pink orifice beneath its tail.” 

Karlach and Wyll gasped in unison.  

“The bussy!” Lae’zel hissed in a hushed whisper. 

“The paladin drew on the last of her divine power to throw the harpies off, smiting them unconscious, and plunged her hand into the dragonborn’s puckered hole.” 

“I am going to be sick,” moaned Gale. 

“The dragonborn cackled and flexed their beef ring, tightening its grasp on the paladin’s hand. The paladin reeled in horror, as the dragonborn’s poop chute seemed to suck the paladin’s hand further in, like fleshy quicksand, whilst threatening to snap her wrist.”

A tear of anguish slid down Gale’s cheek.

“It cannot be! Was the bussy a trap?!” came an outcry from Lae’zel.

“No! It could not end this way. Her entire life and all her training had been preparing her for this,” Tav read. “What in the hells, really?” she muttered, before continuing. “In that moment, she knew that the only way out - was through. The paladin took a deep breath and PLUNGED her arm deeper into the dragonborn’s vile cavity,” Tav exclaimed, throwing her own fist in the the air, to the sound of Astarion’s uncontrollable giggling and everyone else’s gasps.

“The dragonborn yelped and tried to expel the paladin’s arm from their pulsating dirtbox, to no avail. The paladin was now elbow deep in the mud dungeon. The two continued to wrestle, the paladin’s arm pumping deeper and deeper into the dragonborn’s dank portal.”

“I fear I may need to tap out soon,” warned Wyll.

“Weakling!” Lae’zel and Shadowheart said in unison, before glaring at one another.

No one, including Karlach herself, could tell whether she was laughing or crying.

“At last, the dragonborn seemed to accept its fate, quivering and taking the paladin’s arm nearly shoulder-deep. The creature grunted and groaned, before stilling, only to unleash an earth-shaking roar, finally forcefully expunging the paladin’s arm in a spray of gooey, milky spunk, as it collapsed on the ground, convulsing, clearly too incapacitated to be of any further threat.”

“Supper is ready,” wept Gale. 

“Shall I take over while you eat?” Astarion asked, to Gale’s immediate renewed protestation.

“That’s alright, I think we should take some mercy on Gale and pause here for the day,” said Tav. “Although let me peek ahead, perhaps it’s tame enough.” She took the journal and flipped forward a few pages. “Oh my…” came a surprised murmur from Tav. “You’ll never guess what happens to the princess and her knight… This may be a problem if we want to continue to visualise this masterpiece properly.” 

“Oh? Dare I ask..?” Astarion was giddy with anticipation. 

“Well… There are now… Five… Six… No, seven! Seven dwarves, who have appeared in the cave.” 

“Goodness gracious,” lamented Astarion. “We will never keep track of all the body parts… Perhaps if Withers steps in to help..? Would you prefer to be the princess or the knight, darling? You can choose, I’ll take the other role.” 

“I am going to use that journal for kindling tomorrow,” said Gale. 

“NO!” came a collective shout from the rest of the group. 

~~~~~

Sorry about the psychic damage, come check out my other work if you dare.

~~~~~

Tagging the usual plus some people who I think might also be doing / were interested in this:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89 @acourtofpenandpaper @yoonshope @lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @spacebarbarianweird @brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @pursuitseternal @comatosebunny09 @kittenintheden @bardic-inspo @tavyliasin

[moonsuke]

Blue Lock 298 Leaks (Spoilers!!!!!)

Yesss I've been saying the same things over and over with each new chapter release but REAL Nagi fans are truly the only ones who knows what's going on and are happy with this. It truly hurts seeing my baby this lost and scared but it hurts so good...

This just further cements Nagi as a character being written with a lot of care and love tbh, the fact knsr took the effort to build up his down fall through the entire arc and ACROSS series. I'm so glad he did not go the lukewarm comeback with Reo as a motivation route, that was my biggest fear tbh (even as a casual reonagi shipper). Now we need the same amount of effort and love for his "rebirth".

I've been saying there's this whole Isagi-Nagi parallel going on ever since their battle, made especially clear when Isagi stole Nagi's 5 fake volley as his 2 gun volley. Their trajectories are meant to be opposite!! I was even more confident of it when Isagi scored the final winning goal. Then when he got first place? When the Isagi glazing tied the main series with epinagi and the next epinagi chapter was "To you who'll die someday"? All the numerous other death flags piling up in BOTH series??

ALL the puzzle pieces were just lining up for the full picture dudebro fanboys and shipper fangirls are unwilling to see. Because what's more impactful than Isagi being first when we have the second protag in a downfall arc?? Him being last!!! I've said so many times how Isagi being number 1 (but not quite) means Nagi will be last (but not quite) and guess what, it became a disqualification 😭 Not a 23, but a 24 😭 Even his 24mil bid is 10x less than Isagi's 240mil 😭

knsr is a TL and MV user fr and so am I fr.

The last chapter was even more blatant with the parallels too basically saying Isagi has this innate fire and heat within him so his journey is needing to acquire techniques and logic to bring out his fire, but Nagi has all this genius techniques yet zero fire so his journey is to understand that which is so needed for him to flaunt his techniques. I was in glee seeing this btw, how knsr kept blatantly hammering in the parallels.

There's a quote after that too "and the ones who misjudged it (their fire) fall by the wayside" and we see repeatedly how Nagi's misjudging his fire thinking its being together with Reo because of their toxic codependency. Nagi is so scared of being alone and he has ZERO reference for anything that isn't Reo because of his background and that's why during these dark moments he can only fall back on him. How he's scared to lose him, how he wants to be the ideal him that Reo desires etc etc. It's honestly so sad to watch how helpless and lost and ALONE he actually is for him to only have reoreoreo as a solution.

(This is why I'm always perplexed when I see shippers celebrating these moments because clearly knsr is portraying it in a negative light??? He's basically telling us this duo is NOT good for both of them???)

And then finally in this newest chapter, Nagi tried to find his independence and went "alone alone alone" and THIS is the right track. Nagi has always been a pretty intuitive character knowing what needs to be done yet he always fumbles executing it because of inexperience and being a "baby chick". I mean despite saying "alone", he was STILL thinking about Reo and how scared he is to lose him and how he'll become stronger so Reo will stay with him etc. It gives me abandoned child desperately working hard so their parents won't abandon them vibes tbh. (Nagi backstory next chapter?)

And this just doesn't truly fire him up! He's basically repeating plays that he did before so its saying all these "fire" he's building up are all misplaced! He needs something besides Reo (and again that's why I wonder why are the shippers eating these moments)!! Its made more blatant at the end when Reo appeared still wanting to cling to their duo and Nagi regressed back to their "together" mindset... that was the final nail to his coffin... Poetically hammered in by Bachira basically saying the same message as what Barou told him, "Go die alone and despair".

WHICH HE IS GOING TO NOW, FUCK. It's honestly so sad, once again I'm just LIKE SEPARATE THE TWO OF THEM. PLEASE. Nothing good has happened ever since their team up against BM and even that darn 5 shot fake volley is narratively bad.

The Isagi-Nagi parallel is back too since we see Nagi passing to Reo at the last moment which was the very first lesson Isagi learnt at the start. Nagi is ONLY just now starting his egoist journey cause he has never understood it in the first place, a call back to his first meeting with Ego. Everything is tied up so well, I'm quite amazed at the storytelling ngl. Knsr planned this for real, all for his babygirl. He's the biggest Nagi fan for real I bow down to him.

Even this chapter alone, how the rankings were sequentially revealed after Bachira stole that pass? That was so cinematic. How that diabolical "Na" at 23 ended up being "Nanase"? So much thought behind it. Knsr does NOT play when it comes to Nagi.

And ngl, I got emotional seeing Isagi's reaction. I wanna see the other characters reacting too like dude Nagi was an infamous genius in Blue Lock. EVERYONE'S (maybe except Rin) gonna be shocked. I also kinda really wanna see if Ego's gonna say anything...

So am I glad about this outcome? Hell yes because finally this duo can be separated. I do not want anymore of this duo until the very end. (Which reminds me, Nagi apologizing to Reo last chapter was a call back to him asking him to team up with him btw, not for calling him a pain. The reading comprehension of people I swear.)

But oh man the next chapter is gonna HURT. What the heck is "blue tears" I'm so gonna die along with Nagi here. Also maybe we can finally get a NAGI BACKSTORY??? We got a naruhaya backstory when he got eliminated right? I was thinking it can only happen if Nagi plays with/against Isagi but omg if he's getting disqualified its very likely that we get NAGI BACKSTORY NEXT CHAPTER??? RIGHT? LET'S GOOOOO.

I'm only this happy because I was this confident Nagi's gonna "die" (and he did) but I'm also equally confident he's gonna be "reborn" (which he'll be going to) and that's why I'm thriving as a fan tbh waiting for all the Nagi story writing.

Episode Nagi chapter coming next week too, I wonder if there'll be parallels. Knsr loves his parallels... And I just saw chap 299 might be on break too so we'll be seeing the epinagi chap first... even more curious now...

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 7 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: “Sleeping Together ★ With Vampire"

Audio

No, not that kind of sleeping together.

...And yet somehow not really the other kind either because despite it's title there is LITTLE TO NO SLEEPING TOGETHER GOING ON AT ALL except at the very end TᴖT TᴖT TᴖT My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.

Ok ok I'm obviously being overdramatic. Misleading name aside the CD is enjoyable and cute just...not at all in the way I was expecting (that being something akin to the Sleeping Vampire Scenario from Vandead Carnival but, alas, no). But oh well, I got to hear Ruki be all deredere towards the end so it's fine I guess lol

Ideally I'd create an actual translation to go along with this (I might do so sometime in the future, unless someone more competent does it first) but for now I've put a summary of the story under the cut. I ask that you please have mercy on me though, I am not used to writing this kind of stuff and it probably shows >﹏<;

Regardless, I hope you enjoy ( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉ ⋆⁺₊☽⁺₊⋆

UPDATE: The CD now has an actual translation courtesy of my fellow Ruki stan @otomehonyaku o(^o^)o please go check it out if you haven't already!

[Disclaimer: I always allow my stuff to be used for translation purposes, as long as I am credited. But please do not reupload the audio anywhere]

Summary ~*×*☆*+*~

[Please note that there may be mistakes or I might've misinterpreted parts of the CD. I apologize in advance (╥﹏╥)]

The CD starts with Ruki encountering Yui, who is carrying an unusually large package. Curious, Ruki asks her what she's doing, and learns that Kou has tasked her with delivering the package to him (Ruki). Ruki is somewhat perplexed as he doesn't recall requesting anything of the kind. Yui suggests that it might be a surprise gift, but Ruki is skeptical. He wants to ask Kou directly but is reminded that he is currently away on a location shoot. With a resigned sigh, Ruki decides that he has no choice but to open the package in Kou's absence. He asks Yui to hand the package to him, and then invites her to come along to his room to find out what's inside. She eagerly accepts, and they head off together.

In Ruki's room they take a seat (on what I assume to be the sofa) and open the package. Inside, there are various wooden pieces resembling parts of something, along with a letter from Kou. Ruki reads the letter aloud and it's revealed that the package contains a (*drumroll*)... puzzle! And not just any puzzle but a ✨️3D puzzle✨️. In the letter Kou encourages Ruki and Yui to assemble the parts together to discover what they will form. Since he's got spare time on his hands Ruki decides to have a go at it, with Yui joining in.

After a while of working on the puzzle, Ruki asks Yui how her part is coming along. She shows him, and he comments that she's doing better than he anticipated. He helps her out with some difficult pieces before instructing her to continue on her own. Yui asks Ruki if this is his first time putting together a 3D puzzle, and he replies that he's tried some before, but that this particular type is new to him. Yui is eager to learn what it is they are building, and Ruki, not wanting to dampen her anticipation, pretends he still can't quite figure out what the finished thing will be either (awww ♡). Ruki suggests that rather than moving their mouths they should focus on moving their hands as with their current pace the puzzle won't be finished. He reasons that the faster they move the sooner they'll have their curiosity satisfied. Yui agrees to work faster and Ruki promises to do the same.

They pick up the pace and eventually the puzzle is done. The assembled pieces have formed a small foreign castle, and Ruki reveals that he suspected as much from the start. He surmises that Kou must have remembered their expressed desire to visit such a castle after seeing one by chance on one of his TV shows. Ruki acknowledges Kou's attempt to make the two of them happy in his own way. He praises Yui for doing a great job despite not knowing what they were actually assembling, noting that the part she made fits perfectly into the castle.

However, there is no response from Yui, causing a puzzled (ahaha) Ruki to remark on her lack of reaction to something she had been so excited about. Turning his head to the side to look at her, Ruki discovers that she's fallen asleep with her head resting on his shoulder. He comments on the privilege of such a sleeping position but acknowledges that it's understandable she'd fall asleep since it's past their usual bedtime. She had seemed so engrossed in their work that he didn't notice her drifting off.

Ruki carries Yui to his bed and gently places her there, saying that she should have just told him that she was tired. He realizes that she likely made an effort to stay awake until the end, though she ultimately fell asleep. Deciding that it would be a good time for him to go to sleep as well, he tidies up and hides the little castle under the table, so that he'll be able to see Yui's reaction to it in the morning.

Returning to the bed, Ruki asks Yui to scoot over to make room for him, but she's sleeping too soundly to hear. He lies down next to her and (in true Mukami Ruki fashion) begins observing Yui's sleeping face. He notes how relaxed her expression is and wonders if it's because she's tired out from using her brain (lmao rude). Ruki then ponders what kind of face Yui will make when she wakes up—will she feel guilty for falling asleep before the puzzle was finished, or will she be surprised and embarrassed to find him laying next to her? Regardless of what her reaction will be, Ruki knows that it'll be enjoyable to witness. But he's certain she'll be happy once she sees the completed puzzle and admits to himself that he really wants to see that expression on her face. He's aware that it's out of character for him, and thinks that he might even have trouble falling asleep from the excitement (asdfsdjfj this is too fucking cute I can't)

Ruki decides that he should thank Kou for the useful gift by making him his favorite food for dinner tomorrow. The mention of dinner causes Yui to stir (what a relatable Queen), and Ruki teases her for being greedy. He assures the still-sleeping girl that she doesn't need to worry; he'll make her favorite dish as well as a reward for her hard work on the puzzle.

The CD ends with Ruki saying how he looks forward to seeing Yui's reaction the following day.

Fin ~*×*☽*+*~

- _(´ω`_)⌒)_

[raptor-claw]

alright so i wrote kind of a lil teaser for my crobby fic, it’s just a first draft drabble to get my creative juices flowing but feel free to read if you think it might be something you could be interested in!

fic synopsis: after dean & sam burn bobby’s flask, bobby’s soul gets sent to hell. lucky for him though, a certain demon ensures his stay is nice and comfortable! *spoilers for supernatural seasons 1 - 8 and probably more i haven’t decided when i wanna diverge from the og story yet*

~

Bobby had been expecting it to hurt. He had been readying himself for the feeling of being burned alive, had been expecting to scream in agony just like all the other ghosts he and other hunters put to rest did. 

He had been expecting pain. 

Excruciating pain, and then just… oblivion, or whatever the hell happens when a ghost dies. He had been trying to avoid thinking that far ahead. 

And yet, all he felt was a faint sensation of warmth, like coming back home to a roaring hearth after a day hunting, and as he closed his eyes (the image of Sam and Dean’s remorseful faces burning into his eyelids) all he felt was… comfort. Relief, even. 

Then the feeling faded, but instead of the complete absence of anything like he’d been expecting, he was met with the much more puzzling result of being set on fire that was…. Absolutely nothing. 

And not the kind of nothing atheists believed in, either. Literally nothing felt different. He couldn’t hear the screams of the damned in the background, nor the celestial harmonies of the angels, and as far as he could tell, he was still the same old Bobby Singer. 

Confused, he opened his eyes, and unfortunately that only made him even more perplexed. 

He was in an office of some kind; All silver metal and black leather, like the kind of thing that fucker Roman would like, except a bit more ‘class’ and less ‘evil corporate douchebag’ (at the thought of the Leviathan, Bobby’s anger flared up again, but it was easier to squash down when he wasn’t a vengeance-crazed spectre. He knew the boys could handle Earth’s little Levi infestation, despite the urge to assist them burying itself in his stomach like a goddamned mole). Slowly, as if afraid that by making any sudden movements he would be dragged back to the mortal plane, Bobby lifted his arm and inspected it carefully. He seemed to have been reverted to the exact same way he was before his death – No pale skin, no flickery features and no murderous intentions (at least, no more than usual). So then what am I doing in this uppity place? 

“Boo.” Suddenly an accented, horribly familiar, incredibly unwelcome voice startled Bobby out of his examination. He whirled around, years of getting his ass beat by monsters kicking in as his body immediately set itself into fight mode. When he lay eyes on the well-dressed, well-damned demon standing just a few feet away from Bobby, wearing an expression like his shit don’t stink, the pieces started to fall into place within his mind. 

“Oh, balls.” 

~

hope you enjoyed this little tidbit of things to come! it’ll be posted on my ao3 as well where i'll post the full chapters if i write them so check my account out username roelovesspn if this tickled your fancy :3 if anyone has any questions regarding this fic just hmu on my inbox too (this is definitely not a way to get asks whatever do you mean-)

also special @ for @kermit-the-fag-uwu for giving me the push i needed to start writing this xD YOU HAVE GIVEN ME THE CROBBY FEVER ONCE MORE, THEY HAVE CONSUMED MY EVERY WAKING & SLEEPING THOUGHTS!!!

[yourlocalxiaosimp]

This post is gonna be something I add onto over time because it’s gonna be the place where I start dumping all my Xiao headcanons and ngl I’m probably gonna have more over time

Xiao headcanons:

- He has a really quiet laugh that most human ears can’t pick up

- For some inexplicable reason he always smells like Qingxin (whatever that smells like)

- AuDHD or at least AuDHD coded (just like me frfr)

- building on that, when he zones out, he zones out hard, like it takes a bit to get him out of it. (Perhaps a side effect of his karma? Idk)

- I heard somewhere that in the original voice overs (aka the chinese ones) he mentions sleepwalking so I’ve decided he sleepwalks

- Aroace

- Despite knowing better, he always retaliates against Hu Tao’s teasing

- Speaking of Hu Tao, I imagine them having a sibling dynamic

- Building on the sibling dynamic, Xiao will sometimes take Hu Tao’s hat, but he knows the story behind how important it is to her so he’s very careful with it

- He’s very lightweight and easy to carry, so some people will just casually pick him up. Both parties are perplexed when this happens.

- Idk why but something tells me he would stand/crouch on window sills

- Puzzled by compliments (just like me frfr)

- If/when he sneezes, it starts silent and then suddenly shakes the fucking earth (exaggerating ofc)

- When learning slang, he would definitely use it completely wrong at first. Example: “I am not ‘goodfam’ at the moment.”

- He has a soft spot for children

- Due to his adeptal nature, he has a lot more strength than the average human. This makes some mortal activities a bit difficult for him.

- idk why but I feel like he’d forget about mortal holidays from time to time

- sometimes part of him will start trembling without him noticing or knowing why

- despite trying to learn multiple times, he still has no idea how to hug people

Adding a section for headcanons that are in the reblogs:

- whenever xiao moves its super quiet so he be sneaking up on people without meaning to at all

- people often assume hes just cold because he doesnt really talk and is kinda serious whenever he does, but for those that know him, he's easy to read

- he doesnt quite understand humans sometimes but hes willing to learn; he's super logical so if he has questions, make sure to give a thorough answer

Again there will be more in the future

Tagging fellow xiao enjoyers @n0vatsu @jumexju and I don’t remember who else

[cuffmeinblack]

A Man Of Ill Repute

Richard Jackdaw x f!reader

Summary: Richard has a reputation as quite the flirt; a scoundrel, even. But you can't deny your attraction to him, or the ways in which he surprises you.

Tags: explicit | alive!Richard | sex | cunnilingus | semi-public sex | music as foreplay | 1790s Hogwarts

4k words

A/n: What in the Bridgerton is this? Not intentional, but I love the thought of Richard being a complete flirt but actually never earning his scandalous reputation.

Period accurate underwear (?), definitely not period accurate sex.

Breakfast time was a somewhat boisterous affair; the gaggle of girls who crowded you now made for rather spirited company. The hour before lessons began was often filled by exchanging gossip, and today was no exception, though the appearance of the subject of much gossip himself had just entered the hall, only adding to the whispers. 

Richard Jackdaw—charmer, layabout, devishly handsome despite his arrogance—was not just passing, but approaching your table. He walked with his hands behind his back, chest proud, strutting like a peacock, like he owned the place. No small wonder, when girls of all houses would swoon over his perfectly coiffed brunet locks and those lips to die for. Those lips had been on a fair few of your fellow students, no doubt, if the stories were to be believed.

Despite all this, you watched him in all his swaggering grace, wishing that you could drag your eyes away. Underneath that bluster you thought there might be something deeper worth exploring—or at least that’s what you had been thinking before he opened his mouth.

“Good morning, ladies. You look utterly divine this morning.” He let his dark eyes drift across the swathe of girls, eventually landing on you. As much as you wished you were immune to his charms, your gut twisted and warmth spread through your body to the very tips of your ears.

A few of your classmates giggled and batted their eyelashes whilst the other half rolled their eyes with distaste and returned to their breakfast. Richard blew an air kiss in your general direction and was off, probably to terrorise some other unsuspecting group of girls. Your cheeks were burning, and you suspected it had nothing to do with your cup of tea.

“What a rake, that Jackdaw!” your friend erupted as soon as he was out of ear shot.

“He is ever so handsome, though.”

“And ever so dim witted,” another added.

“He has a good mind for solving puzzles,” you interjected, idly spooning porridge into your bowl. The words had quite appeared from nowhere and earned you a few curious glances. Since when did you defend Richard Jackdaw?

“Yes, well, you still beat him at chess, did you not?” A fair eyebrow raised in your direction.

That you did, though it was a tough match and the Gryffindor provided ample distraction with his flirtatious gazes. Richard tended to float through life with not a care in the world, save for the riddles that perplexed most others. If it weren’t for his utter disinterest in typical scholarly pursuits, one might think him more suited to Ravenclaw house. He had an inquisitive mind when presented with the right interest.

“I don’t think he was very happy about it,” you said with a satisfied smile whilst stirring honey into your bowl, the amber liquid reminiscent of a certain rake’s eyes when they caught the light just so…

You shook that thought away. 

Your presumption turned out to be accurate, however, when only a day later Richard approached you after your shared Charms lesson. Slightly ruffled from practicing weather charms (the gale he’d conjured had almost swept your professor clean off his feet), he caught up to you as you left the classroom bearing his signature charming smile.

“Jackdaw. What do you want?” you asked suspiciously.

“I'm offended you think I must want something in order to talk to you, darling.”

You halted just outside the doorway and rounded on him. “Am I wrong?”

“Well as it is…I wondered if you fancied a rematch? I've been turning our chess game over in my head, and I think I know how you bested me.”

“I bested you because I'm the better player, Jackdaw.”

His eyes glittered, amber and gold, captivated. His intense stare was unnerving in the best way. Was he trying to figure you out? Or was this simply another attempt at seduction?

“I'm afraid I have time booked in the music room to practice on the pianoforte,” you said, clutching your books tighter against your chest. 

“Oh, you play? I knew there must be a reason why I find myself so drawn to you,” he purred. 

“Yes, so I'm afraid our rematch will have to wait—”

“May I join you?”

The question caught you by surprise. There was no particular reason to say no; in fact the thought of spending more time with him wasn't entirely unpleasant.

“You want to listen to me play?” you asked, suddenly nervous.

“I thought I might accompany you. I play the violin. There are surely some sonatas that are suitable?”

Another surprising revelation.

“I…suppose so, yes.” 

Barely ten minutes later you were settled in front of the pianoforte in the middle of the music room, with Richard quietly tuning his violin. The music you’d retrieved felt suddenly intimidating as you shuffled through the sheets. It was imperative you found the right piece, for this was another competition of sorts.

Something challenging, then.

“Any joy?” he asked, sauntering to your side to look over your shoulder, his hips swaying in your periphery. You licked your lips. From his vantage point he could no doubt see down your dress. 

Rake.

“Sonata number eighteen in G major,” you replied primly. “You know it?”

“Who doesn’t know Mozart, my dear?”

You knew this piece well enough for your fingers to fly across the keys with little thought, muscle memory taking over. The notes on the manuscript before you held little interest compared to the man beside you. He played effortlessly, superbly. His fluid strokes were hypnotic, deft fingers stretching wide, flying across strings to create the most enchanting accompaniment to your own melody. His eyes were shut, lost to the music, giving you ample opportunity to watch him unashamedly.

There was something undeniably erotic about his performance; so enraptured he was with the sonata that every lilt came with a peak of his eyebrows, his lips parted as he moved and swayed along with the rhythm. He threw his all into his performance, and you could practically hear his heart thumping along with your own. 

Fingers teased the strings, stroking with precision. The crescendo of the piece coincided with a lurch in your stomach, and his eyes flew open as his final vibrato rang out. A final chord, a slice of his bow and then the music ended; deathly silence filled the room. Your chest heaved as he held your gaze, breathless. You knew then that he felt the same agonising tension, the same magnetic pull.

He was the first to smile and break the silence. “We do make such beautiful music together, don't we?”

You blinked, but did not—could not—deny it. You wanted to believe that whatever this was had been special for him, as it had been for you, but you knew better, did you not? The thought made you quite ill.

“Is that what you say to all the girls, Jackdaw? Before you slip your tongue into their mouths?” you gasped, struggling to compose yourself.

“Wh-what?” He staggered back, looking wounded as his violin dropped to his side.

“Come now, everyone knows you've kissed half the girls in school!”

You stood up suddenly, stool scraping across the floor. Gathering your sheet music, you intended to leave then, to chastise yourself in private for having fallen for Richard's charms so wholly. How foolish to think that you had been special. Richard opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again, like a damned fish. Why was he so surprised that you'd figured out his game?

“Good Gods, no! Who said that?”

Richard made his way to your side, forcing you to look at him. If he had been anyone else you might have recognised hurt in his eyes, or confusion, even. 

“Everyone, Richard!” you said shakily, still vibrating with whatever had passed between you only moments ago. He'd knocked you off-kilter, filled you with a warmth you recognised but ought to be ashamed of.

He reached out, faltering only inches from your hand. His voice dipped to a mere whisper. “All because I enjoy complimenting the fairer sex? That hardly seems fair.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “So you didn't accompany me here just to try to get your hands up my skirts?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn't say no to that prospect,” he laughed, but his smile faltered into sincerity. “I've had my eye on you, surely you've noticed? Just you.”

Your breath caught, hands stilling on the stack of music that had changed everything. Had you been mistaken? You thought back to every recent interaction with Richard. He had sought you out to play chess, held your eye when he offered his compliments, followed you here and played beautiful music with you. 

“Have you?” you managed to ask.

“I can't quite forget how you so effortlessly bested me at chess.”

“Me neither.”

“And that…playing with you…”

You subconsciously parted your lips as he moved closer, drawn towards your quivering body that yearned for his touch. You must have sighed his name as he offered up a gentle ‘yes?’ before capturing your mouth in his. 

Lips as soft as pillows pressed gently to yours, tentatively exploring how you fit together. Perfectly, as it was. He drew in your lower lip between his teeth as his hands finally found your waist, warmth unfurling in your abdomen at the slightest brush. You were as tightly wound as the strings that now strained under the hammer on the pianoforte, as you found yourself pushed backwards onto the keys. The almighty racket that ensued thankfully drowned out most of your whimpers, but not all.

To be caught now would cause enough scandal to last a lifetime. You would be shamed, ridiculed, cast out from polite society.

Then why couldn't you stop? 

All reason had fled you. Only a primal desire to be ravaged by this man remained.

Richard seemed to be struggling similarly, his hands flexing against your ribcage in a poor attempt at control. His tongue glided across your lips seeking entry, and your gasp invited him in. Languorous swipes had you falling apart in his arms, your hands struggling for purchase against the instrument behind you as you felt your legs weaken. A clatter of chords and mismatched harmonies created a deafening cacophony, the only rhythm to be heard belonging to your straining heart. 

That pulse settled firmly between your thighs, urging you to let Richard have his way with you—for that was where this was headed, you had no doubt. You felt his same desire pressed against your hip, stiff and unyielding. He held you against him in that same restrained way, fingertips bruising your hips through layers of cotton.

When you broke away for breath, Richard startled and almost fell against you, an arm bracing on the pianoforte, caging you in. His eyes were wild, his hair a mass of chocolate curls that fell over his eyes. Had you caused that? You'd been so preoccupied with his lips that you'd barely noticed your fingers curled in his mane. Your fingers wound tighter around the silken strands, trying to find the words to assuage your guilt.

“Promise me I'm not just another notch on your bedpost, Jackdaw.”

He grinned then, all dimples and flushed cheeks. “Darling you are the only notch, if you'll have me.”

“Oh. Yes.”

His lips crashed back into yours, Richard’s low groan speaking of his relief. The pianoforte behind you gave another almighty belch of clashing notes. Your hands grappled behind you to close the lid and it slammed shut. His lips curled in a smile as he maneuvered you backwards, hands shamelessly sliding underneath your behind to hoist you onto the wood. 

Lips found your jaw, your neck.

His tongue laved the skin below your ear, hot and wet and insistent. 

Every nerve ending was ablaze, the throbbing between your thighs growing almost painful. Richard had the enthusiasm you’d expected but the fumbling of your skirts and a clash of teeth told you that perhaps he did indeed have no more experience than yourself. It didn’t matter—the passion was enough.

Those nevertheless skillful hands soon wrapped around your calves, sliding higher and higher, far too slowly. You wobbled on your precarious perch, cracking open your eyelids to peer down at him. Richard had his lips still firmly glued to your neck, licking and sucking until you felt the sting of a blooming bruise. Your dress glided higher, over your knees now; an agonising ascent. Finally his palms skimmed your inner thigh and hesitated at the border of cotton and skin.

You were loathe to beg, but every passing second was torture without the contact you so craved.

“Please, Richard…”

He moaned against your neck as he slid his fingers to your centre, the slit in your undergarments providing easy access. That first press against your clit provided an explosion of pleasure, and the gliding strokes that followed had your back arching clean off the instrument behind you. 

So distracted were you that you barely registered when Richard’s weight had disappeared from your body, the chill air of the music room suddenly shocking you back into focus. His head had dipped below your skirts, knelt before you as if in worship. 

You blushed, furiously, gnawing at your lips. You hadn't expected this much attention. He surprised you at every turn, from his hidden talents (present situation included) to his willingness to attend to your needs first. He kissed your thighs, murmuring and moaning against your skin whilst his thumb—slick from your own arousal—rubbed exquisite circles between your folds. Any sort of worry about where you found yourself, who might walk in and how Richard saw you from his present vantage point simply melted away in a haze of pleasure.

He played you as expertly as his violin, teasing moans from your lips just as he coaxed forth beautiful melodies. Your fingers curled into his hair, gentle tugs that grew in urgency the closer you approached your peak—and it came on with such haste that you feared you might never be satisfied by your own hand again. 

“May I taste you?”

The question came from nowhere, his thumb still gliding, teeth returned to the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Wh-what?”

“My tongue, can I use it—” he pressed more firmly against your clit, eliciting from you a whimper “—here?”

Without waiting for an answer—which you weren't sure you could manage to articulate anyway—Richard gripped your thigh and pressed it wider, higher, resting your leg on his shoulder. Your skin was burning now, being so exposed, laid so bare. You tried to tug your skirt down but he brushed your hand away, instead gripping it in his and locking your fingers together. 

“Oh…”

Richard smiled up at you, before delving back between your legs. The first swipe of his tongue against your sensitive bundle had you squirming in surprise whilst your unrestrained moans filled the room. Richard squeezed your hand tighter as his tongue dipped inside you, gently at first, then more insistent. Deeper he delved, teasing you open until you began to relax around his muscle.

He was preparing you for what was to come.

You shuddered at the thought, a quiver of unbridled lust.

By the way he groaned, he seemed to enjoy using his tongue to pleasure you. You chanced a peek over your bodice to watch him, his hair in disarray and cheeks as flushed as your breasts. Then his eyes flew open as if sensing you watching, locking his soft chestnut gaze on you whilst he worked. You couldn't look away; his dishevelment was utterly captivating.

“You're…ever so good at that,” you gasped, your breath quivering.

Richard smiled in return and wriggled his eyebrows. He was flirting with you still whilst doing that! The most frustrating thing seemed to be that it was working. Your stomach gave an almighty lurch, butterflies caught in a whirlwind, all trapped behind your ribcage. 

His tongue returned to your clit for the finale, sensing your climax by the shake of your legs and the increasing pitch of your moans. The bell in the tower above chimed as you came undone, masking your cries and muddling what should have been pure ecstasy. Panic mingled with pleasure.

Only once did it ring, then the gargantuan bell fell silent but for the waning hum as the pianoforte vibrated beneath you.

“No…oh Gods!” Still caught in the wave of your orgasm, you struggled to speak.

“What's wrong?” Richard asked.

“Ch-choir!”

His eyes flew wide as he understood your meaning, and suddenly he was over you instead of under you, your leg no longer supported. He caught you in his arms before you could fall, strong hands gripping your waist as your skirts fell back to the floor. 

You felt the steady stream of saliva and your own juices run down your leg as you righted yourself, and what little shame you had left flared, muted by the terror of being caught. As you both ran up creaking wooden stairs, away from the approaching voices outside the music room door, you grinned. 

What scandal—what a thrill.

Richard had hold of your hand, pulling you through the door to the bell tower stairs just in time as the Hogwarts choir bustled into the music room for their weekly practice. You practically fell into his arms in relief, huddled in the dank, dark store room, gasping for breath. You felt his heart pounding beneath your palm, the heat from his skin, and—to your disbelief—he was still achingly erect. These close quarters did nothing to quell your excitement, still buzzing with lustful want despite, or because of, the fear of your capture.

“What should we do now?” he asked, barely a whisper.

This store room was not ideal for a romantic rendezvous, nor even an illicit one. Dim light trickled down the stairwell to illuminate a square on the floor—a greyish patch of dust and cobwebs—and the little ambient glow was barely enough to see Richard's face by. But, it was enough. His plump lips, the shine of his chin, sparkling eyes and the curls that dusted his brow—you saw it all in soft contrast, and answered him with a kiss.

He returned it with fervour even whilst the students below crashed about and chatted loudly. Neither of you seemed to care; the reward far outweighed the risk.

Richard pressed himself against you, his cock impossibly hard against your hip, whilst his hands slid to your behind and held you firmly in place. His breath was hot and heavy, coming in pants between slippery swipes of tongue. All technique had flown out the window, and you threw your arms around him to press yourself flush against his chest. You wanted every inch of your body in contact with his, to feel the warmth beneath his clothes against your touch-deprived skin.

Stripping yourself of clothes might be a step too far, however. You would settle for what you could—and that involved him once again bundling the heavy fabric of your skirts around your waist whilst guiding you backwards until your thighs hit something solid. A box or chest, a crate maybe. Whatever it is would serve your needs—another perch for you to be defiled on.

You wrapped a hand around his cravat, pulling him between your legs as you shuffled backwards. You heard the pop of buttons as his breeches came undone, saw the pink of his head strain against the fabric until his erection fell into his waiting hand. Reaching out to stroke him, you felt the weight, the girth as your fingers curled around his shaft. Richard was blessed, that much was clear. Saliva pooled in your mouth at the thought of taking him, your core fluttering with need.

The din from below had dulled to a quiet murmur as the choir took their places and readied themselves for their first song. 

Richard nibbled at your lower lip as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

His cock twitched when you bit back. 

The music began, and you knew nothing but bliss as Richard filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around his waist and leaned back, gaping in awe at where you joined. Even in the semi-darkness you saw what a mess you were, the fabric of your bloomers sticky and tattered. 

The voices grew louder, beautiful and mesmerising to behold.

Richard withdrew with a low groan, and he pressed his palm down firmly on your abdomen before thrusting slowly back into you, even deeper than before. You tried to stifle your moans with your own fist, but what did it matter? You could be as loud as you wanted to be whilst the choir’s harmonies filled the bell tower.

He leaned into your ear. “Good girl. How do you feel?”

“Good…amazing…”

A twinge of pain made you wince as he bottomed out, and he held still, searching your eyes. 

“Don't stop, Richard.”

“Godric’s heart,” he whispered barely audibly before pulling out and slamming back inside you.

You saw stars, perhaps even heaven itself as he fucked you into oblivion. Fingers bruised your hips, a messy clash of teeth and tongues, desperate moans into each other's mouths. It was everything you'd dreamed of yet nothing like the fantasies of a perfect night under the stars or a gentle romp in your bedchamber. This was raw and feverish and utterly glorious. 

“I never want to stop,” he said. Or at least you thought that's what he'd said—it was hard to tell through the swell of voices from below. The choir approached their impressive finale, perfectly masking your sobs as Richard made you come again. You fell limp into his arms and gripped his back tightly, nose nestled into the crook of his neck as he pounded into you through the waves of your orgasm.

He smelled of ink, wood and musk. Heady, beautiful.

Your mouth spilled forth utter filth; expletives you'd dare not use around anyone. To your shame, you begged him to fill you, a testament to just how addled you were. 

“I will. I'm going to fill you until you can't take another drop.”

Oh, Gods, this scoundrel of a man.

Richard didn't falter, hips snapping faster and harder. He moaned so loud you thought you'd be discovered after all, looking deep into your eyes as he came. His cock pulsed, a final hard thrust so deep you almost screamed, and his seed spilled inside you. His release came thick and fast, and you kissed him through it all, muttering his name as he did your own.  

The warbling from below died, the song finished; and so too were you.

Clarity is a wonderful thing, when one is able to come by it. It had all but fled the moment his lips met yours, and was flooding back now.

Atop a dusty box in a store room, Richard Jackdaw had deflowered you. 

Richard Jackdaw—notorious philanderer.

“I hope we can do that again—” he kissed you, so softly his lips were a mere whisper “—and again.”

You searched his eyes for any hint of a lie, but found none.

“The duet or the…other thing?”

“Both, preferably.” Richard peppered your cheeks with kisses, smiling in a dazed sort of way. He looked quite endearing like this. Vulnerable, even.

“That depends entirely on you, Jack—Richard,” you said, rather sternly, though the effect was rather ruined by his steadily softening cock still being buried inside you.

“On me? Then you are willing?”

“I want you to woo me, to court me, and to stop flirting with every girl in the school.”

“Tch, such demands!” he said, grinning. You swatted his arm, but he chuckled and kissed you again, harder this time. “Of course. How could I possibly want anyone else?”

Your breath hitched then, rendering you speechless.

Did you believe him? This man of such ill repute? 

He kissed your hand as if you had all the time in the world to ponder the question. That smile, those lips—they were intoxicating. This could be a trap, and you an unwitting victim of his charms, but then again you could be wholly wrong about him.

Only time would tell if this rake was worthy of your heart.

[opal-songbird]

Later than expected, but chapter 45 of "The Legend of Zelda: Fate's Design" is up! Here's a little teaser:

The Legend of Zelda: Fate's Design

Link's POV

I halted Epona at the sight of a wolf sitting in the field, directly in our path of travel. Its white and gold coat, red left eye, and the scar over the right eye made the sight unmistakable; it was the Hero’s Shade. I was puzzled as I dismounted. I hadn’t seen him in 4 years now; I thought I had learned all the skills he wished to pass on to me. I slowly walked up to him; my brows furrowed. He leaped at me, and I was again teleported to the Ghostly Ether.

I stood up from being on my knees and looked at him again, the skeletal phantom staring back at me, his dull gold and brass-toned armor shining slightly in the light of the realm, even despite the years of use and moss covering portions of it. His sword and shield were drawn, and he was in a battle-stance, his feet shoulder-width apart and knees slightly bent. I drew the master sword and Hylian shield and crossed blades with him as I raised a brow.

For the first time ever, he chuckled, and I was positively perplexed now, lowering my sword as he put his sword and shield away on his back. He stood taller with his feet closer together. “I have taught you all you need to know regarding the sword.” He replied, outstretching his bony hand. I put my sword and shield away on my back and took his hand as he grinned. It was a little unsettling, to say the least. Suddenly, a bright flash of white light enveloped my vision. I shut my eyes for a moment, my sight overwhelmed.

I opened my eyes and almost gasped at the sight. The armored specter was no more; in his place was a man with golden-blonde hair that looked extremely similar to me. His green clothes contrasted mine; the green of his tunic and hat was lighter, he wore white tights on his legs instead of pants, and his light brown boots were bulkier than mine. I could tell by the glow around him that he was certainly not of the living. A spirit. Is this still the Hero’s Shade?!

The man laughed at my reaction, rubbing his nose with his finger as he squinted his azure eyes. “I’m sure you’re confused, Link.” My mouth was agape. “Yes, I am still the Hero’s Shade.”

“Why do you look so much like me? Just a little...different?” My voice raised in pitch slightly with the last word.

“This is who I was before I became the Stalfos that trained you.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, my great-grandson.”

What?! “Wait, so I’m your great-grandson?!” I gawked.

He beamed, putting his hands on his hips. “Yes!”

“How did you become a Stalfos?” I pondered.

“I was searching for an old friend in the lost woods long ago.” He shut his eyes forlornly. “I ventured too far without a fairy, and that is the fate of one who does such a thing.”

“But that’s irrelevant here?” I asked him.

“Technically, yes.” He nodded. “I presented myself as the Hero’s Shade before because my duty to train you overshadowed my desire to let you learn who I was.”

“Oh...” I scratched my head. “What did you need to talk to me about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He guffawed so hard I swear I saw a tear form in the corner of his eye. “Malon!” He shouted out. “Look at him now!” He turned around, and standing behind him was a woman with long red hair, blue eyes, and pointed ears just like his and mine. “He’s just as dumbfounded as I was! Typical for us men, huh?”

She giggled slightly and smiled with her lips as she walked forward, wearing a white shirt with a gold-toned shawl tied with a pendant that looked like a beast. Both the shirt and her long lavender skirt were adorned with blue trim. Her outfit was complete with brown boots and a brown apron. She too had that ethereal glow to her. “Hello, Link.” She spoke softly. “I’m your great-grandmother.”

“I...” I struggled to find the words.

“Link...” My great-grandfather continued. “We’re proud of you for two reasons.” He shut his eyes and sniffled. “The first you know; for becoming the hero that Hyrule needed in the era of twilight, which is why you will always be known as the 'Hero of Twilight'. The other reason still seems to elude you.” He laughed again.

Interested in what happens? Read "The Legend of Zelda:Fate's Design" to find out!

[archoneddzs15]

PC Engine - Time Cruise II (Time Cruise)

Title: Time Cruise II / タイムクルーズⅡ 

Developer/Publisher: FACE

Release date: 8 November 1991

Catalogue No.: FA03010

Genre: Pinball

Format: HuCard

Time Cruise II tries very hard to outdo Naxat’s Devil Crash (Technosoft's Devil Crash MD in the case of the Mega Drive) but unfortunately, it falls just short, despite the unique features. The play area is very large but is also lacking in the moving targets that made Naxat's offerings so much more than just pinball. Without these, the primary gameplay is a little bland, and the size of the table counts for nothing if the design is just not as much fun. The mini-games are where this game does shine, and unlike Devil Crash, these are more fun than the main table itself. There are many different games, from a caveman golf challenge to a tilt-the-table style maze, and these are primarily what you are aiming to play for. The music is nice but lacks the exciting passion of the tune in Devil Crash and I expected a little better from Face. If you enjoy pinball games (which I do) then this is worth getting. It's the number 3 pinball game on the PC Engine (out of 3) and it does tend to go on for too long on occasion, but despite its flaws, it's nice to stick on now and again for the change of pace. I am still perplexed as to why the Japanese name refers to itself as "Time Cruise II". Maybe the Japanese "Time Cruise 1" was not released? However I also know it was developed by FACE who also did Money Puzzle Exchanger for the Neo Geo.

[therearemeanshins]

One day i’ll be a broken china doll

With my body, being used as a murder weapon

But I don’t want to be a sharp and abrasive 

No, I don’t want that at all

 I don’t want you to play with me

The way that I fuck with my heart

I don’t want you to drop me

Because I’m afraid I’d fall apart

Into tiny shards

And cut my skin, though I tried very hard to be strong

despite parts pulled apart from the parts of a whole

And the perplexing delicate puzzle: my soul

I want to be certain of at least just one thing, that when I am with you, I’ll belong

I don’t want to grow old, 

Why is time in a rush?

It seems to me, it has infinity

Why isn’t it acting as such?

I want to remain in control

To forever appear beautiful  

And never to wrinkle, or lose the twinkle

That appears in my eyes at your touch 

I’ll sing to the skies of this warm fuzzy feeling

For being with you is incredibly healing

I won’t let myself be torn from your side 

 As well as I can, for you I will be,

a hand on your hand  a warm cup of tea, 

and a journal in which to confide 

Maybe we’re not enough

 to be wrapped up and saved by the swirl in the sky

And we’ll burn up to dust like the rest of the stuff

And never be given a reason to why, 

with this horrible glamorous world 

Did we even exist in the first place?

But I’m not looking answers, 

I really don’t care

And maybe ill never be seen as a girl 

but I’ll be okay if I’m loved in your eyes

______________________________________________________

I wrote this poem when I was in high school. I was very confused about my gender, and about feelings of love and fear. I rushed into my first relationship and it was very unhealthy and damaging. I still feel this way (now it's more in a positive way), in that I wanted to be destroyed, like have all the atoms in my body split apart, with each of them being turned into an exploding star. I know that's unrealistic, but so is a lot of the other stuff I aspire to. Anyways, my heart is still filled with so much love, and for a long time I was unable to give it to myself. Because of that, I avoided relationships (because I know it's stupid to try to love someone else when you hate yourself, but I finally feel ready) and there's this girl in my class who I really like and i'm hoping maybe I can give that love to someone else in a healthy manner. I'm being cautious because I rarely catch feelings for people and I don't want to fuck it up. But i'm more confident now, and I feel like I can be myself around her, and like i'll be seen as who I am, something I neglected in my relationship in HS. So yeah, I hope this is more warm cups of tea and laying in fields of flowers, instead of admiring a pretty plate, throwing it on the floor, and cutting myself with the shards (emotionally, not literally, lol)

[staring-at-my-keyboard]

Haven pt 2

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

part 1 || part 3

My Thomas finally convinces @torturingpeople's tender pathologist to leave Hilbert's Grand Hotel!

OC intros

POV: Tender Pathologist

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

Angst

TWs

⇾ hallucination mention

⇾ death mention

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

“Doctor! I have been looking for you.” 

I startled violently at the familiar voice, and found none other than Thomas approaching me with conviction. I just stared, wondering if this was my guilt manifest, and I was to now carry the hallucinated spirit of the man I literally left for dead at the hands of one who would kill me for a mistake. But he was not dripping tar, nor was he floating, nor did he sport any grotesque features. His hair was less neat than usual, and slightly damp, but that was the extent of the difference between the man I was looking at and the one who was stomped into the ground barely twenty minutes ago. 

Once close enough he reached forward, and I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that the sight of his hand coming towards me when he seemed to possess such a temperament caused me to flinch. I deserved what retribution was coming, but my base self still trembled with terror.

He softened immediately, beginning to withdraw, only to enliven with determination once more and reach forward to take my bicep with a surprising gentleness in a motion that seemed less intent to drag me someplace and more to simply convince, or encourage. 

Most notably, his hand was solid.

In all my more maddened states of crushing guilt, no matter what I saw or heard, none of my mind’s conjurings went so far as to evoke the sensation of physical touch. I stammered out of a perplexed shock, eyes flicking between the hand on my arm and the face that was clearly agitated but making an effort to appear kind. 

“I know you declined my earlier offer, but now I simply must insist. You are in real danger here, and frankly your rather bewildering attraction to this man is clouding your view of things. I will not cut you off from the world, I will not imprison you, but please. I am begging you, for your own sake, come with me.” Thomas’ demeanor became more gentle still. “Atlas would be distraught to learn you made a trip to the Slow Boat at the hands of that monster.”

Denying what Thomas seemed to view as ‘bewildering attraction’ seemed fruitless, and at the time I had no idea what he had meant by ‘the Slow Boat’- but figured it was safe to assume that it had to do with enduring extreme harm. Really, the mention of Atlas is what broke through my already flimsy resolve. Still, despite all that was said to me, all I could mutter was:

“But… you were dead.”

The man blinked at me, now seemingly equally puzzled. “Yes.” His eyes widened as he realized something. “Wait, I have read of this– all death is permanent on the Surface, under the Sun’s Law, that is right.”

“You say that like the Sun is the reason people die, which is… rather preposterous.” In my shock I gave a bout of shaking laughter, defaulting to correcting his absurd claim. “Death occurs when a part of the body essential for keeping it alive is compromised beyond repair.”

“Like when my neck was broken?” Thomas challenged.

“You were simply… knocked unconscious.”

Do not attempt to guess what possessed me to deny a man’s account of what happened to his own body.

To his grace, Thomas merely brushed off my frightened attempt to rationalize, and repeated his earlier urging.

“Regardless, you witnessed what he did to me for the mere act of defending you. You felt what he did to you, and…” He shrunk with an odd sadness. “Going by your lack of reaction, it is not an altogether uncommon occurrence. Please come with me. Atlas is waiting.”

I could hardly bear the mere thought of speaking the idea of leaving aloud, but I did not need to; my hesitance was answer enough to Thomas, and he offered a resolute nod.

“Right, it is decided then. Do you have anything you wish to take with you?”

“Dr. Hanna’s staff stripped me of all my possessions some time ago.” I said, voice light and head lighter as the implications of what I was doing began to truly set in. I was still half-convinced this was some wild hallucination, or perhaps Dr. Hanna had actually knocked me out after my unwise joke and this was just a dream I was having while laying sprawled in a hallway somewhere. “Even these clothes weren’t mine before he offered them.”

Perplexion and distress warred for dominance over Thomas’ expression at my words, before he simply closed his eyes and released a sigh reminiscent of how air sometimes needs to be removed from inflated objects in order to release pressure.

“Okay, that could actually make this easier.” He muttered to himself, before releasing me and adjusting his posture. He held out his hand, open for me to take him as opposed to the other way around.

I reached forward, shaking, but managed to place my warm palm into his warmer one. He gently closed his fingers, and the pair of us made our way through the halls towards the parlor. I did my damndest to appear calm, leagues calmer than I felt, for the sake of the few staff that witnessed us. They may have had some slight respect- or fear- of me, but I was and still am entirely certain they would have immediately gone to Dr. Hanna had they known what Thomas and I were doing.

I was secretly glad there were staff to notice us, because they were others whose eyes caught onto Thomas. He really was there, my hand in his, warmed by his blood. He was alive, and offering my salvation.

The parlor was, by miraculous chance, empty. Perhaps it was a sign, and I will forever be grateful that I managed bravery enough to take it.

For the first time since entering all those months ago, I exited the hotel doors, and Thomas and I stole into the perpetual night.

[2/3]

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

[gloriabomfim]

[Scene opens with Joey, Dee Dee, and Marky in Oggy's house. Joey spots a vent and hatches a plan.]

Joey: (Rubbing his roach hands together) Ah, gentlemen, feast your eyes upon our escape route to glory!

Dee Dee: (Excitedly) Escape route? Where are we escaping from, Joey?

Marky: (Scratching his head) Yeah, Joey, I thought we were just here to cause chaos.

[Joey, feeling a bit self-important, overhears their conversation as he begins to crawl into the vent.]

Joey: (Whispering to himself) They'll see, they'll all see. I am the mastermind behind this operation!

[Cut to Joey silently making his way through the vent on all fours, but then he overhears Dee Dee and Marky talking about him.]

Dee Dee: (Whispering to Marky) You know, Marky, Joey thinks he's the smartest of us all.

Marky: (Confused) Huh? Joey? The smartest? I don't know about that.

[Cut back to Joey, who's now feeling a bit deflated.]

Joey: (Mumbling to himself) They dare question my genius?

[Joey continues crawling through the vent but suddenly stops in horror.]

Joey: (In disgust) Ew! What's that smell?

[Joey sees a pile of poop in the vent.]

Joey: (Gagging) Ugh, this is revolting!

[Cut to Dee Dee, who's still puzzled.]

Dee Dee: (Scratching his head) Marky, I think Joey's crawling through the vent.

Marky: (Even more confused) What? I don't know!

[Cut back to Joey, who decides to press on despite the smelly obstacle.]

Joey: (Determined) I shall conquer this vent maze, no matter the cost!

[Joey spots the longest vent and speeds up, but exhaustion soon catches up with him.]

Joey: (Gasping for breath) Must… keep… crawling…

[Eventually, Joey passes out in the prone position.]

[Cut to Dee Dee, who is still perplexed by the situation.]

Dee Dee: (Annoyed) Marky, I told you he's in the vent!

Marky: (Frustrated) Well, I didn't know! Maybe he's just lost.

[As Joey snores away in the vent, Dee Dee and Marky continue their argument.]

Dee Dee: (Crossing his arms) I can't believe we're arguing about Joey in a vent.

Marky: (Shrugging) Hey, at least it's not as strange as some of our other adventures.

[The cockroach trio's banter continues as Joey remains passed out in the vent, completely unaware of their discussion.]

[alexsummerz]

Chapter 11 : Now your Mess is mine.

Here it is ;) sorry for the delay and enjoy the last chapter !

With heavy and numbed eyelids, Krauser felt his mind slowly emerge from the darkness. A hazy veil gradually dissipated as he became aware of his presence in an unfamiliar room. His body lay on a bed, with fresh and soft sheets caressing his skin. Bandages wrapped around his chest, tight but comforting. He felt a slight tension with every movement, a sign that his body had suffered serious injuries. A throbbing headache pounded in his temples as if someone were relentlessly hammering inside his head.

Krauser blinked, trying to recall what had happened. The memories were blurry, like scattered fragments of an incomplete puzzle. Images of a fierce battle, explosions, muffled screams, and menacing shadows overlapped in his mind. But nothing was clear, nothing made sense. How did he end up here? Where exactly was "here"?

He cautiously attempted to get up, being careful not to make any noise. His movements were slow and labored, but he was determined to find out where he was and what had happened. Silently, he left the room and entered the living room, his gaze scanning the area for clues.

.

Suddenly, his eyes fell upon a young woman of familiar appearance sitting in front of a computer, wearing headphones. Krauser observed the scene for a moment, assessing the situation. He decided to act swiftly, his hand instinctively reaching for a knife placed on a nearby table. Without hesitation, he approached her from behind, placing the knife against her throat.

"Don't make a move," He murmured in a low but menacing voice. "Tell me where I am and what happened."

With a swift yet cautious motion, the woman abruptly paused the melody resonating in her ears, raising her gaze to find the man she had just saved staring at her with a threatening gaze. "Is this how one expresses gratitude towards the one who just saved their life?"

The man, recognizing the young woman despite his recent wounds, displayed a gaze now more perplexed than murderous. A sudden pain shot through his mind as the blade still grazed (Name)'s skin, causing him a sharp headache and making him abruptly release the knife, which crashed to the floor.

Freed from his grip, she quickly stood up, concerned, attentively observing the condition of the former soldier. With genuine worry in her voice, she urged him to lie back down, noting the remnants of his injuries. "You should lie back down; you've barely recovered from your woun-

Suddenly, Krauser regained his senses and firmly grabbed (Name)'s arm, restraining her once again in a hold she couldn't escape on her own. "Where am I." he demanded.

He hadn't changed a damn bit... The muscular arm of the former wounded soldier tightening around her neck as she struggled to utter the following words. "We're in the cabin I had reserved in Spain for my initial investigation, far from Valdelobos, far from the island..." As she spoke, He slowly loosened his grip to allow her to continue more clearly. "You transformed into... I don't even have words to describe it, but well..." She took a deep breath tinged with sadness before continuing. "I found you, dragged you to a laboratory, and we escaped from there using an old motorboat... just before the island exploded in a way I can't explain."

Krauser released (Name) completely, appearing suddenly confused. His gaze drifted into the distance as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memory, with memories of past events gradually returning to him. Images flickered in his mind like fleeting flashes of a reality he struggled to reconstruct.

He ran a hand over his forehead, looking troubled, then fixed (Name) with a mixture of disbelief and recognition in his eyes. Emotions swirled within him, a complex mix of confusion, gratitude, and incomprehension. He attempted to form the words, but his voice seemed trapped in a vice of fragmented memories.

"An island... exploding..." he articulated with difficulty, trying to reconstruct the missing pieces of his personal puzzle. Memories seemed to float in the dark corners of his mind, distant echoes of a reality he now had to confront.

"You completely lost control of yourself, honestly.." the young woman said, her expression compassionate.

"Yeah... I remember some things, as the infection took over, everything became blurry in my mind, but, I remember the most important... unfortunately," he sighed.

"I'm sorry." she finished.

.

Krauser, perplexed, scrutinized (Name) with a mixed expression of incomprehension and curiosity. His mind was haunted by a persistent question: why on earth had this young woman saved him when she could have escaped without him, without caring about his fate?

"(Name)," he uttered with a confused voice, "I don't fully understand why you saved me-

"You did it twice. We're still not even," she cut him off, a smile appearing on her face.

As he observed her, he noticed a complex blend of emotions on her face: compassion, compassion for him, even after everything he had done. There was a spark of empathy, a glimmer of hope in her gaze.

She had seen beyond his monster facade, beyond the violence and anger that had consumed his being.

As he remembered what had happened, a surge of energy entered his voice as he seemed to recall something in particular. "What about that bitch in red dress? And Wesker? Those sons of bitches..."

"I have no idea, honestly. The island was reduced to ashes, but I can't confirm anyone's death," she said, her tone compassionate.

"But them... I have to find them and kill them."

(Name) knew that deadly glint in Krauser's eyes all too well. She had faced it too many times... fortunately, that gaze was now directed elsewhere. But when it came to those two, he wanted them dead. And she could only understand that.

.

The urge to leave immediately, to chase after them, burned within him like an unleashed inferno. But even before he could step across the threshold of the cabin, she stepped in, firmly holding him back by the arm.

"Jack. you're not in any condition," she declared with a determined voice, her eyes fixed upon him with a glimmer of concern mixed with determination. "You won't accomplish anything in this state. You need to rest, heal yourself before embarking on this quest."

"That's none of your concern," Krauser growled in annoyance, his impulsive nature clashing with her logic and caution. He tried to break free from her grip, but she tightened her hold, not yielding an inch.

"You're right, it's none of my concern. Once you're completely healed, you can do whatever you want and walk through that door to never hear from me again." She held his gaze, unwavering. "But for now, it's a no."

Always so stubborn, he thought deep within himself.

"Why?"

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Tell me, really, why are you doing this?"

"I told you. You saved me twice, and we're still not even. It's simply a matter of feeling indebted, of making myself feel better."

What a terrible liar.

Well, partially. It was true that she felt indebted, but deep down, she knew it was much more than that. The time she had nursed him back to health, that kiss... Not only did she understand his anger, but it had also become a part of her. She felt it deep within herself—their stories were now intertwined, bound by an inexplicable force. She felt it vividly, even now as he locked eyes with her. She couldn't describe it in words, but it was undeniably powerful.

"Very well." he finally breathed out, letting out a resigned sigh. "But it better be quick."

(Name) gave a grateful smile. "Yes, sir. But for now, let me take care of you. I need to change your bandages." She finished by gesturing for him to follow.

Let me take care of you. It was the first time he had ever heard those words, he who was accustomed to fending for himself.

What a strange feeling.

-----------------------------------------------

As the days passed, a particular dynamic took hold between (Name) and Krauser. While she took care of him, tending to his physical wounds as well as his inner ones, a mutual trust grew.

Initially, he was reluctant, feeling uncomfortable receiving so much attention and care. His rebellious spirit was used to relying on himself, counting only on his own strength. But gradually, as the days went by, he began to let go, to let down his defenses.

He realized that (Name)'s presence was not a weakness, but a strength. She was there for him, supporting him wholeheartedly, and it gave him a strange sense of security. He started to acknowledge that perhaps he couldn't face everything alone, that he wouldn't say no to someone by his side if it was her.

.

One day, as the cabin was enveloped in a peaceful calm, (Name) attended to changing Jack's bandages. Their routine of care had created a unique intimacy between them, but this time, there was a palpable tension in the air.

As (Name) gently adjusted the bandage, her delicate touch grazing his skin, they exchanged an intense gaze, their eyes seeking each other. A subtle electricity ran through the space between them, creating an atmosphere charged with unspoken emotions, an atmosphere they had felt before.

Their emotions and desires clashed in a silent dance. Then, she broke the silence with a soft but uncertain voice.

"How did we end up in this situation..." she tried to laugh to ease the atmosphere, " given how it all started...

The young woman felt her heart race, the beats resonating in her temples, while Krauser seemed serene, not letting her gaze escape. How can he be so calm?

.

"You kissed me right?"

.

In an instant, silence fell once again, as she felt her heart might explode, heat rising alarmingly within her body. Does he really remember that? How awkward..

"N-no, well, y-yes, I didn't really have a choice and given the c-circumsta-"

Without warning, he leaned slightly towards her, delicately gripping her neck with his strong hand, allowing his palm to glide over her soft skin. His gesture carried an unexpected tenderness as he gently pressed his lips against hers.

(Name) was taken aback by Krauser's audacity. Her heart leaped in her chest, while her cheeks flushed under the sudden kiss. She was overwhelmed by a wave of conflicting emotions, uncertain of how she should react. "I-"

"Shh."

He kissed her again.

And it felt so much better than the first one

.

The end. I sincerely hope you enjoyed this fiction; I loved writing it... Apologies for any possible mistakes. As for the ending, I wanted to give this man the happy ending he deserved, so it might be a bit too cute, but I like it. As for what comes next, feel free to imagine it yourself! And don't hesitate to share your opinion with me.

[liaromancewriter]

Picta Problems

Premise: Cassie and Ethan clash over a Pictagram post.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Format: Prose + Text & Pic Fic Words: 1,100

A/N: I started with the intent of making fluffy edits; that's it. And then this fic took a life of its own. Submission for @choiceschallenge-may2023 prompt "photographs" and @choicesjunechallenge "stories". I'm using @choicesflashfics week 35, prompt 3.

Part 1: Picta Memories

Part 2: The Backlash

Part 3: The Confrontation

Cassie Valentine was having a good day until she wasn’t. Everyone knew her to be easygoing, often with a smile on her lips, but serious about her work. Her friends and foes agreed on one thing: she had a long fuse, and it took a lot for her to lose that sunny disposition.

Of course, she wasn’t a saint, and medicine wasn’t a career for eternal optimists. But she found a way to keep her balance despite everything fate threw at her.

That’s why many people milling about on the seventh floor of Boston’s Edenbrook Hospital were surprised to see her angry expression as she furiously tapped on her cell phone. Sensing her distraction, they stayed out of her way.

But the rumors spread. Dr. Valentine was in a bad mood. Best to wait until it evened out. She might be slow to anger, but she was also quick to diffuse.

The traveling nurse assigned to that floor asked his colleagues if the young doctor might just be hangry. Perhaps a cookie could turn the tide.

“She’s partial to cupcakes,” one of them commented.

“And coffee,” another piped in, having witnessed Dr. Valentine and Dr. Ramsey returning from their daily coffee run for years.

“Could she have had a fight with Dr. Ramsey?” one recently hired nurse wondered.

The idea was so preposterous that everyone around the nurses’ station laughed. They were still wiping tears from their eyes when Ethan Ramsey stepped off the elevator and marched determinedly down the hallway to his former office.

Everyone held their breath and pretended to be busy as he paused midway to stare at them. He quirked one eyebrow, a perplexed frown forming on his lips and then he shook his head and continued walking.

Still puzzling over the bizarre behavior at the nurses’ station, Ethan absently swiped his access card on the reader outside the diagnostic team’s office and strode through the sliding glass doors.

“Any idea what’s happening outside?” he called out.

Cassie was staring at scans on the digital board and didn’t respond. Not giving it another thought, Ethan joined her and shoved his hands in his pant pockets as he stared at what appeared to be a patient’s brain. The shadows told their own story about the individual’s condition.

“Hmm,” he mused and rocked back on his heels. “See that—”

“I know how to read a scan, Ethan,” Cassie said curtly, throwing him an annoyed look. “Believe it or not, I am adult enough to do my job without anyone watching over my shoulder.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m pissed off at you!”

Taken aback by her vehemence, Ethan started to reach for her, only for Cassie to evade his touch. She walked around him and took her place behind the desk, putting physical and emotional distance between them.

“Is this about my text message earlier?” Ethan asked, mentally tracking their interactions during the day.

“Partially,” she said. “It’s about you not trusting me enough to know when to draw the line about publicizing our relationship. I barely post about you. If people didn’t already know about us, they’d think I was single. But that isn’t good enough for you, is it?”

Ethan wondered how his day had gone from breakfast in bed with his lover to her looking at him as if he was a stranger. He didn’t think their text exchange had been that serious, but clearly, Cassie disagreed.

“I already apologized,” he said, sighing deeply, unable to hide his irritation.

“Until the next time,” Cassie bit out. “I can’t be in a relationship where I’m constantly walking on eggshells. I ask for very little, Ethan, but I demand your trust in this. I’ve earned it.”

She was right, thought Ethan. She’d had enough experience with tabloids to be a fiend about her privacy. And as someone intimately familiar with her Pictagram feed, he knew his presence was an exception, not the rule.

Of all the things she could be upset about, he found it hilarious that it was over this. He admitted his first reaction was annoyance at seeing a private moment shared on social media and having her friends comment. But there hadn’t been malicious intent involved.

Like it or not, he was involved with Cassie, and she had earned his trust. Not just for this, but for all other things too.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Cassie asked suspiciously, her green eyes narrowing to slits.

Instead of answering, he walked around the desk, turned her chair and placed his hands on either side of her chair, effectively caging her. He leaned in, his blue eyes intent as they locked on hers.

“I.” He kissed her forehead. “Am.” Then the tip of her nose. “Sorry.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I overreacted. Forgive me?”

He didn’t think she’d respond, but she seemed to deflate before his eyes, losing the tightness in her body as her anger left.

“Fine,” she said somewhat graciously. “But we should set some ground rules because I’m not ashamed of our relationship. I might not want to end up on HSTea, but that doesn’t mean I want to hide away completely.”

She pushed against his arms until he moved back to let her stand.

“There are obligations to who I am, Ethan,” Cassie said, deadly serious as she crossed her arms across her chest. “If we’re going to go the distance, you need to accept that being with a Valentine comes with social responsibilities and prurient interest from strangers.”

She continued, staring at him carefully. “My family tries their best to keep the limelight away from me, but they cannot make it disappear completely. It will shine on you too, and you have to be okay with it even if you don’t like it.”

“I see,” he said cautiously for lack of anything else to say.

The shrill sound of his pager cut through the uncomfortable silence. Ethan cursed and glanced at the tiny screen.

“I have to go, but I do want to discuss this, Cassie,” he said. “Meet me for dinner tonight. We can talk without interruption.”

She nodded rigidly, and Ethan exhaled. He touched her hand, needing that connection before they went their separate ways. He took comfort when she hooked her pinky around his and smiled softly.

As he walked back to his office in the administrative wing, Ethan thought it would likely be the most important dinner of his life. But there was no decision to make. He’d already decided to fall in love with Cassie. Everything started from there.

------------------

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey

[iiratix]

(┛✧Д✧))┛ fem reader as yae miko part 2

She and the team reunited with bam and they begin react to the top of the tower together 🤝

She meet him before when he still known as viole

🤔 (its up to you she already know his true identity is bam or not)

Love triangle ❤ (khun-reader-bam)

Romantic & one-shot

Rivalry or... Slavery?

Where two regulars over the moon over one sly fox, unaware of the mere fact she had known of their adorable crush.

She knows.

It was a mistake, it was an accident. Everything that occurs, that rebellion, that happened at this split second. Baam for once, regretted going out to fulfill his mission. She knows.

The familiar outfit, the way her hair ornaments created the faintest ring. It filled his senses, filled the void in Baam's mind. She knows.

There's no doubt that Y/n is aware of Baam identity. Standing right up ahead of him, looking down at him with squinted eyes. She knows.

The question of all; if she was paying attention, why didn't he say a single thing? It brought anxiety to Baam, the trembling in his fingertips and the way he subconsciously lowered his head, too clear to read, too obvious for him to know. The same kind of action, that becomes a habit whenever he turns to a stuttering, embarrassed or nervous mess in front of her. Baam was crushed, having no defenses or walls to match his facade.

"I…" Baam anticipated what she wanted to say.. Will she show her gratitude in knowing he's been alive this entire time? Will she ask the reason for his departure? Or will she get straight to the point and ask why is he in an organization such as FUG?

"I cannot believe my eyes." His bangs got in the way, but Baam was more than aware to notice. That is Y/n looking at him with the usual kind of puzzling smile.

"...What an eyesore to witness."

"—!!"

Baam raised his head, perplexed. An eyesore? Him? Of all the people out there, he would never have guessed there would be a day where Y/n would call him an eyesore. Because, if he reconsidered, he would always be called a breath of fresh air, someone she adored and who could refresh her mind with his presence. So, why? Why the sudden change of mind?

Why was she looking at him with disapproval and disappointment?

Baam wouldn't mind, if others would look at him with an unusual feeling of hostility. It was a different story, however, a different kind of story when it came to her. Y/n wasn't someone who showed her displeasure clearly, she would hide it behind mocking smiles and venomous comments. On the other hand, when she blatantly shows it all, the emotions she expresses mean she doesn't take things lightly.

It shows how betrayed Y/n L/n was. The head priestess showed an insignificant number of emotions at once, pouring out the emotions she was holding back.

"Viole, wasn't it? It somehow fits you and your ragged appearance. I wonder from which waste did you come from?" Y/n didn't mean to hide it. She boldly stated it, she showed her dissatisfaction with the path that Baam had taken. The path he must take, whether he likes it or not.

"It was such a regretful meaning for both you and me. Shame, truly. I expected a lot more coming from you. Have you stooped so low in a matter of 9 years?" Behind that malicious comment, lies a message for him. Not Viole, not the slayer, but Baam.

"...I don't underst—"

"Oh please, I may look like a fool to you, but Aguero and the others are possibly bigger fools than I am. Do you expect me to believe there's no dead body found despite the fact a regular… No, an irregular has been announced dead?" Y/n giggle, hand moving faintly in front of her lips.

Baam cannot tell what to say. Everything, every single word and syllable stuck in his throat. He cannot argue, he was stupefied, he was done for. The threat, the one thing that refrain him from meeting with them all, is because he’s afraid. Afraid of what the FUG may do to his friends.

“...I do not understand your choice, and I never wish to know.” Y/n turned around, walking off, away from his presence. Baam didn’t like any of this. The way she turned around, facing her back brought back unpleasant memories. Don’t leave. Stay. Baam for once warded off FUG's threat, trying to catch up to the figure.

“Y/–!!”A lightning bolt struck where he took a step, losing an inch of his figure. Bam staggered back, his eyes wide, confused by the familiar lightning. But, as he reflexively raised his head, he finally met an unfamiliar pair of eyes. She held a spear in her hand, her braided hair in the wind. The same style of clothing, the same type of power, and the aura they emitted.

And behind her, stood a pair of blonde haired twins, glaring scornfully at Baam, before they set out to follow Y/n from behind. It was as if they were her loyal followers, who were ready to help and support her. Likewise, the figure blocking Baam's path, stopping him on the spot, giving a warning that this was Y/n's own will, and he couldn't make up her mind.

In fact, Baam was not given the choice to decide. Not when Y/n is more than aware — He’s easy to be manipulated.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

It has been a year, a year after that encounter and not once had she felt the slightest bit regretful. Y/n found it a bit refreshing? It's complicated to describe, or maybe her personality is much more complex than most people know. To put it simply, she may or may not regret one thing, namely the lack of information from the notorious dangerous organization that caused chaos in the tower.

Y/n chuckled, leaning back in her chair, hands resting on the armrests and legs crossed to the sides. “I see, you have recruited another regular? I hope he is capable in his field, Aguero." A sneer on the other end of the phone was enough to answer her comment.

Khun watched the black sphere in silence, the one thing that kept the two relationships. A long-distance communications. How to put it? He was sure that day, he was absolutely confident that Y/n would entirely oblige his decision and come up with a solution. A solution he had predicted, whereas she will traverse the tower along with the others. Quite the exception for both Khun and Rachel.

And here she was, somewhere else, out of sight of others. Creating another group of their own, consisting of people outside their league. A bunch of deviant people who came from outside the tower and might as well be out of this world. Khun had no idea how exactly she had come across this kind of talented and otherworldly people. What he noted was a plausible reason that this sneaky fox had more connections than he expected.

Khun was distraught, restless by the distance. Unlike the others, they truthfully informed their condition and whereabouts, completely opposite of Y/n who remained closed and isolated. "Ah, before I long forgotten." Khun tapped his finger on the oak table, humming, indicating he was listening to what Khun had to say. "Pass my message to Rachel."

His finger hung, stilled by the air, frowning deeply at the mention of the freckled woman. "...What is it?"

"It has been quite some time since we've met. I do hope in the upcoming future, I could come and visit you myself. If that time truly comes, let us enjoy our moment of leisure and talk to our heart's content." Khun frowned deeply after hearing that. He didn't mind delivering this message, but somehow, the thought of Y/n's assumption that Rachel was an acquaintance left a bitter taste on his tongue.

"Are you sure it's for her and not for me?"

"Certainly. We've wasted most of our time conversing and exchanging information, no? have to say, it's a daily thing between the two of us. I've told you many times, no need to be ashamed. Admit it, You're hopeless without me." Khun rolled his eyes, the end of his lips curled up.

"I'd rather say you're the one who's tied to me." The laughter that rang by his ear always was a melody, his own personal kind of music record. One that he wants to replay over and over again. Till the end of time.

"Shame, if I were too attached to you, I would've been sticking close by your side at this second." Khun rested his head on his hands, listening intently to what she had to say. "But, it seems like it is only something you daydream of."

"Who knows."

"I know." Y/n smiled sweetly, taking the exact hint of what he meant secretly. She wondered what she was going to do about it. In fact, she could use it to his advantage.

Y/n turned her gaze to the figure standing in the doorway, a blonde figure with long hair in a braid, with a towel slung over his shoulders. Indicating the fact that he had finished his training session, he lifted his head, pointed indirectly outside the room, trying to draw her attention elsewhere.

"...Ah, Aguero. I'll talk to you tomorrow, it seems like I have another duty to perform." There was silence, the bluenette didn't say a word about why. Instead, he was curious, this task he had mentioned so many times; what exactly is it?

"Y/n, one of these day you need to tell us about your exac—"

"Farewell, tell others I've done pretty well." Y/n hung up the call, abruptly cutting his words off. "He's a curious person, isn't he?" He asked his leader, noticing how her ears twitched at what he said.

"...For sure. Now, what seems to be the problem?"

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

A pant escaped through one lips, the way they rushed out to take a sharp corner, adrenaline pumping in through their blood cells. They seem to be running away from something. This is something that speaks of threat and danger toward the said person.

"Caught you."

"—?!"

A mighty roar of electricity rumbled, assailing the desperate figure. The hood fell down from their head, body tumbling forward as they laid face first on the ground. A groan was evident from the way they lay pitifully.

"I'll give you a round of applause for your courageousness." A sound that echoed down the empty hallway, the click of a heel, added a bit of horror.

"In fact, you are still as naive as ever. Do you really think you can outrun a fox in a hunting game?" In the darkness, a lock of a bright pink hue immediately appeared, the priestess gown filled with the elegant drawing of a sakura tree and lastly, dark eyes, staring in front of the fallen victim.

"And I always pray for your downfall….Rachel." Initiative, the freckled woman lifted her head, bit the inside of her lips and gritted her teeth. Y/n lifted her head, amused. That one look of hatred and vengeance, uniting the dim—bad eye color, daring to glare at its prey without knowing the hunting hierarchy.

Y/n sighed, shaking her head in obvious disappointment. She stopped right in front of Rachel, who remained on the ground, just like she should have started. A Verify Kagura materialized, hovering above her hand, the bells adorning the catalyst shining brightly. It means only one and nothing more. Meaning, her Sesshou Sakura had surrounded Rachel's body in a triangular shape, ready to strike another purplish lightning bolt.

"Does it hurt? You poor, poor, poor thing. What should I do? Spare you mercy?" Y/n laughed faintly, hands swinging in front of her lips, head tilted to the side. "Shame, you don't deserve such a thing." She smiled contentedly, her arms crossed under her chest.

"Now, while the others are busy in an all-out war, what should I do with you?"

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

There was the sound of hurried footsteps, the pounding of heels on the floor and shoes hitting the concrete. From afar, everyone could see a certain flash of pink and brown, with pink in front and brown behind.

"Y/n—!!"

"Do not follow me."

Ignoring her warnings, Baam continued to follow Y/n like a stray puppy. This fox seems to be in big trouble, what problems might you ask? Of course, getting tackled down from the obvious explanation.

Y/n already aware of the reason. Rather she immediately figures it out on the spot with a couple of threats and manipulating here and there. But, she wouldn't dare to spill it to Baam. Because she really enjoyed the situation at hand, where he seemed desperate to clean up his past mistakes and even his name, he was eaten up by his self-conscious guilt.

Ah, Baam must've forgotten of her sadistic tendencies.

"Ah…" However, today's victim alone isn't Baam entirely. There's more guests in this fox daily shenanigans. Y/n fastening up her pace, practically running at her normal speed, which is abnormal in the eyes of a regular. Only an irregular could've caught her at this point, and luck certainly bloomed on Baam side for once.

"Aguero~"

Khun perked up, hearing a familiar call from his name. He turned his head around, facing the direction on where exactly he had heard of it. However, what he sees is a bundle of fluffed up pink, using his head a leverage to leap up the air. As he is about to comment, or prefer to call it, criticizing her action. Baam crashes right into him, falling to catch Y/n who has transformed into a fox and uses Khun as a way to escape. The two tumbling down the ground, in a domino effect, with Khun falling first thing first and Baam following shortly after.

The two boys grunt in pain, looking ahead at each other. One look in annoyance and the other look rather apologetic. Y/n snicker at the sight, giggling in her fox form and watched it all happen, giddy-ly. Hence, they switched attention to the girl they oh-so-dearly-loved, ignoring the fact she enjoyed playing around with them. Khun and Baam falling in love with her is just a cherry on top.

"Dear me, if you were so attracted to one another, you should've stop chasing after m—"

"...Form…"

"Pardon me?"

Khun pointed toward her direction, eliciting a noise of confusion. "Baam tried to say… You show your fox form at last." Y/n sit there by the concrete floor, carefully taking his words into account, tails swishing from left to right and squinted eyes stare at the two. That's when the realization gnawed on her like daylight.

"Oh."

Y/n is sure she won't be hearing the last of it. However, she is certain, as long as they're whipped put for her, she'll find a way to get this into her own advantage. The two might be a rival to one another, but for Y/n Guiji? They're two undeniably loveable fools that she could command around.

[sleekervae]

Past Lives [1.0]

Masterlist

A/N: so, I've gotta go and change my Tumblr bio soon because tomorrow is my birthday! I'm getting into my mid twenties and I'm still writing fanfic, twelve year old me would be so proud 🥰

--

Are you awake?

Austin was perplexed the next morning when he saw Jade's text. It was a respite given his foggy head and his dry mouth; though doing some slow math in his head, it had to be about two o'clock in the morning in LA. What she was doing up so late he couldn't really fathom, or then again, perhaps he could given how hard she was working. He messaged her back, not making any effort to move from his bed.

I am, not sure I want to be but I am.

Lol, must've been a real good night if it hurts that much

Not the worst hangover I've had, but I'm gonna do with the curtains drawn for a while

What're you doing up?

You'll think I'm nuts

I already do

Fuck you lol

... I'm not gonna' say it

Jesus, Mary and Joseph XD

Couldn't sleep. I had a breakthrough with my song and I've been working on it for a solid hour

Can I hear it?

Or is it top secret?

A few minutes passed before an audio clip popped up on his phone. With his screen brightness dimmed to low, Austin's tired eyes squinted as he pressed the play button. He first heard some rustling in the background, followed by Jade's low breathing and the soft strums of a piano. Her voice followed soon after, breathy, soft, yet articulate as she sang;

"I haven't done a cartwheel since I was nine I haven't seen my mother in a long, long time I mean, look at me, look at the length of my hair My face, the shape of my body Do you really think I give a damn what I do After years of just hearing them talking?

I say I live in Rosemead Really, I'm at the Ramada It doesn't really matter Doesn't really, really matter"

Austin wasn't sure what it was, but her voice was beautiful. It always had been, though in his bleary state of exhaustion her singing was like gold in his ears, reverberating softly in the confines on his bedroom. He could picture her sitting in her room -- no, she had to be in the living room because she was on the piano, but she had papers sprawled out over the frame and wild scribbles piecing together her hyperboles like a poetic jigsaw puzzle.

He wanted to see it suddenly, there was this unexplainable urge to watch her creative process. His fingers flew over the screen before he had the chance for rational thought to prevail.

You wanna FaceTime?

Only a few moments later his phone began to vibrate and Jade's contact popped up on the screen. Austin did his best to fix his hair and make himself presentable, though let's face it, he had a hangover like one wouldn't believe and he probably looked like something the cat dragged in.

"Good morning," she greeted as soon as she appeared. She was clearly sitting at the piano still, a sweater zipped over herself and her hair tousled and curly. Despite the time her eyes were bright and her smile radiant.

"Good morning," he grinned, doing his best to sit up in bed, "Or should I say good evening?"

She wasn't sure what she should've been expecting, though she was still taken aback seeing him lounging lazily, his hair mussed and tangled in the pillow, and the the contours of his bare chest illuminated in the screen light. His lids were half open, drooping down but still holding some semblance of a charming twinkle. And she didn't think it was possible, but his voice had deepened even more; raspy and velvety that Jade could get lost listening to.

"No, no, it's dark but it is still technically morning here," she simpered, "You look like you need a Big Mac"

He sighed at the thought, "A Big Mac sounds great. If only I had the energy to get up and go get one..."

"You could order one off of Skip the Dishes or something," she said.

"Yeah, but that requires me getting up and leaving this bed," he drawled.

"Fair," she chuckled, "Are you going to get up at some point?"

"Why would I do that when I have you singing to me instead?"

Jade refrained from rolling her eyes, "So, you liked it?"

"It's beautiful," he nodded, "What's it called?"

"I don't know yet," she shrugged, "Just been reflecting on some stuff and... came with up with that. I don't know how to explain it,"

"Well, so long as it works for you," he replied, "You been working on anything else?"

"A few things," she nodded, "At the pace I'm going, though, Cam thinks I could put out another album in 2023,"

He snickered, "2023 doesn't sound like a real year,"

"To be fair, the last year and ten months haven't felt real," she replied, "What do you think? Where you gonna' be in 2023?"

"Oh God, Jade," he groaned, "I thought you didn't like to plan that far ahead?"

"Hey, you wanted to FaceTime, so you get my 2am thoughts,"

"My mistake," he grumbled playfully.

She simpered, brushing her hair behind her ears swiftly, "Well, c'mon! I can think of a couple different places you could be," she said.

Truth be told, Austin had a couple ideas, too, "Yeah, with my family for one. Maybe sipping some sugary cocktail in Malibu or something, that sounds pretty nice..."

"After the night you've had and you're still thinking about booze?" she queried.

"Well, a smart man doesn't get tanked off the sugary drinks," he smirked, "Besides, I'm projecting into my future,"

"Okay then," she rested her elbow on the frame of the piano, her chin in her palm as she stared into the screen, "Anything else?"

It felt so surreal for a moment, as though Austin could've reached through the screen and pulled her out into his reality. He could still remember the threads of their conversation hours ago, she probably thought he sounded half-daft but even in a drunken stupor he could pick off every detail in his mind, his fingers ghosting across her skin whilst they snuggled up together on that last night, a golden memory he would cherish until the next opportunity arose.

But he didn't just crave her physically, her also just missed her energy. Having her in a phone screen or a letter wasn't the same, and even though a plethora of weeks had gone by, it still felt like so long until November when he could finally see her again. Sitting in the park hadn't been the same and he hadn't cooked that chilli since she'd left. Furthermore, he hadn't been able to even glance at another woman without thinking about Jade, and that perplexed him so.

Never the less, he hadn't felt brave enough to bring it up to her.

"I don't know," he sighed, "I'm just ready for life to go back to normal. As normal as it can be, I guess,"

"It will be," she assured, "I mean -- life's probably gonna' look a bit different for you in a year, but... it'll be a new normal. Heck, it could be a better normal,"

He smiled softly, "Is that what you want in 2023? A better normal?"

Jade glanced shyly at the worn keys of her piano. There were a plethora of scratch marks in them, not to mention stains from fallen ink and bits of clothing fibres stuck in between. This piano was one of the few things she'd held on to from her past, not many others would be joining her new normal.

"We all do," she nodded, "I want to be comfortable in my skin again. And if I have to wait another year and a half to do it, then so be it,"

"You'll do it," he said, "You've already come so far, Jade. I'm proud of you,"

She felt her face flush, though she hoped her surroundings were dark enough that he wouldn't pick it off, "I'm proud of you, too... I'll be even more proud if you go shower and get something to eat,"

He let out a guttural groan, burying half his face in the pillow at the thought, "No deal. You can't make me, anyway,"

"I don't know. I've been told I can be very persuasive," she shrugged back.

"Yeah," he glanced at the screen properly again, "I know how persuasive you can be,"

God, I hate that fucking smirk, she thought.

"Exactly," she spoke quickly to avoid fluster, "So, it's best not to argue with me, anyway,"

He chuckled coyly, "Okay, I'll make you a deal: I'll get up and do something productive if you go and get some sleep,"

"Hey, I never said I wasn't gonna' sleep," she said, "I just didn't plan to, yet,"

"But how are you going to be productive and write all your songs if you don't get a good sleep?" he queried.

Jade smirked back, "Adderall? Speed works, too,"

"Jade,"

"Well, what kind of rockstar would I be if I didn't partake in some illicit substances?" she teased back.

"Weed is good enough," he subtly shook his head at her, "I mean it, though. Please take care of yourself,"

"I am," she promised, "I have to show you up at the Met Gala, anyway. Can't miss it,"

His face lit up, "You got your invite?"

"This morning. Well -- yesterday morning," she nodded, "You have to break out your best regency high couture -- I'm not even sure where to start with that,"

"I'm sure you'll look beautiful, no matter what," he assured, his fist came over his mouth as he tried to suppress a yawn. Jade smile endearingly.

"You wanna' go back to sleep?"

"No, no," he shook his head, "I'm gonna get up. You should get some sleep, though,"

"I will," she nodded back, "Just... not yet. But I will,"

"I'll take your word for it," he began to sit up, his head spun a little but he shook it off. First order of business was a long, hot shower, "How about we talk later?"

"Sure. Go get your Big Mac," she simpered, "I'll call you later,"

"Bye, Jade," in an instant, she disappeared and was replaced with his lock screen.

Despite what he'd said, Austin laid back down in bed and he stared listlessly at the ceiling. He could hear her previous teasing echoing in his ears, wanting to know what he wanted to do and where he wanted to be. Truth of the matter was, a small, curious part of him wanted to be with her. He wasn't solid on how he wanted that, nor how he could achieve it. And perhaps it was just his hangover talking, but the idea of having her here, hearing her twinkling giggle, keeping her warm skin against his, it sounded heavenly.

Austin stopped then, a pang of guilt flooding through his chest. He missed Jade terribly, but was it because they were friends, he felt something more, or did he purely miss the physical aspect they had together? Either way, it didn't feel appropriate to ask her opinion; he didn't want to spook her off.

Little did he know Jade was sitting on her piano bench, not making any effort to move off or touch the keys. She knew this ache, this sucking emptiness in her chest wasn't normal, it didn't occur with just anyone and that was what worried her most. Jade had promised herself (and Austin to some degree) that her feeling for him would remain platonic. Of course, the spanner in the works be damned, she couldn't let herself fall so easily again, nor did she think he deserved her. She came with too much baggage, too much controversy and quite frankly she assured herself that he could do way better.

If Flo could see her now, she'd probably slap her silly. She tried to remind her, Jade too reminded herself so many times how fantastic and dynamic she was. Hell, at this point in her career, she had written and contrived herself into this fantasy idol, some mythical unattainability that even she herself looked up to. If she could reach that mindset again, eventually when she had more value for herself, then maybe she would consider Austin more.

But her wounds were still fresh, just as she knew his were too, and it was safer for the both of them if she just kept her thoughts to herself.