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grayskies2525 · 8 days ago

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A Year of Falling | Ben & Arlo | M/M | Chapter 9

Word Count: 7,500

Link to all parts: A Year of Falling

Chapter Nine: July – “Just Allergies” (cont)

It’s around 5 pm when Ben and Arlo arrive at Felix and Connor’s small, but generously decorated, brick house. The sun is still shining brightly, illuminating the pollen scattered all over Connor and Felix’s cars, as well as the front porch railing. Ben cringes at the sight.

When Felix opens the door of his house to greet Ben and Arlo, Ben immediately snaps forward to smother a sneeze into his elbow.

Great start.

He runs a finger underneath his nose in a useless attempt to ease the tickle still there. He sniffles and gives Felix a smile that he hopes carries no sign of the sheer exhaustion taking hold of him.

Felix's eyes narrow slightly. “Cold or pollen?” he asks.

Ben, distracted by his nose, gives into the urge to scrub at it again. Felix’s question only reaches the surface of his brain, rendering him incapable of processing the words. So, he frowns and gives Felix a confused “What?” before resuming his nose rubbing.

Felix lets out a long sigh. “Are you about to bring germs into my house, or is your body just overreacting to trees and grass again?”

Just hearing the word “grass” tickles Ben’s nose, causing him to cover another sneeze with his elbow. “The, uh, the second one,” he says with a heavy sniffle. “My immune system obviously thinks gr — grahhh — aHH’tSHHuuuhh! Ugh. I can’t even say the word. I’m trying to say my immune system thinks g-r-a-s-s,” he says, spelling out the word before continuing, “warrants a full-scale attack. Well, any kind of pollen, I guess. Fuck, I don’t even know. At this point, I think I’m just allergic to everything,” Ben says, shifting his face rubbing efforts to his eyes instead of nose.

Ben’s eyes are watering so fiercely that he can’t make out anything clearly. But he sees a large, gray, vaguely couch-shaped blur so he strides toward it and all but collapses onto it.

“Felix,” Ben begins before giving a big sniff. “I think it’s your house I’m allergic to,” he continues, wiping his now streaming eyes with his hand. “It wasn’t this bad before I stepped in.”

Ben feels a sudden warmth against his thigh and smiles when he sees Arlo’s sat down next to him, their legs touching.

“Stop with the dramatics. You’ve been in my house for barely two seconds. You’re ‘not getting worse,’�� Felix says, rolling his eyes.

Ben is glad Connor walks in at that moment, diverting Felix’s attention away from further teasing Ben.

Connor gives Felix a quick kiss before looking over and nodding at Ben and Arlo. “Hey, you two.”

Ben sniffles and gives some sort of vague hand gesture in acknowledgement of Connor’s greeting. He hears Arlo say something softly but Ben’s too busy sneezing into his elbow to discern the exact words.

“Sick again?” Connor asks.

Ben weakly lifts his head and meets Connor’s gaze. “No, it’s been, like, forever since I’ve been sick. It’s just allergies.” At this point, Ben figures he could really benefit from a t-shirt with that phrase across it.

“Want some Benadryl? We keep some around because sometimes I use it to help me sleep,” Connor offers.

“No, babe, he can’t take that stuff, remember? Ben’s a little weakling whose body can’t handle a simple antihistamine,” Felix says, his tone teasing.

Ben would roll his eyes, or at least narrow them, but he’s too exhausted. “They give me migraines,” he tells Connor. Connor’s grimacing expression tells Ben he understands why trading off a sneezy and runny nose for a horrendous headache and nausea isn’t worth it.

“That really sucks, sorry,” Connor says.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ben says in a tone conveying how decidedly not fine it actually is. “I can handle it. I’ll resort to other remedies. Like steam, or better yet, dunking my head into a sinkful of warm water and keeping it there until I just fucking die,” Ben says, scrunching his itchy eyes shut.

Ben looks up to see all eyes staring at him in evident concern. “What?” he asks, his brows furrowed.

Arlo places a hand on Ben’s thigh and rubs it in a soothing gesture. “You sound pretty miserable, is all,” he says softly.

“Nooooo, but I don’t want to sound miserable,” he whines.

He hears a mix of snorts and chuckles and then Felix say “You can go home, you know? Nowhere in the best friend contract does it state that you are required to attend every single 4th of July celebration.”

“But I don’t want to go home. I’m not even sick! It’s so frustrating because there’s nothing even wrong! At least when I’m sick, it makes sense to sneeze and to feel like shit. Because there’s a virus inside me or whatever. But allergies? They’re so stupid.” Ben’s aware he sounds like a petulant child, but he’s unable to resist continuing. “Like, how do I tell my body that pollen doesn’t actually pose a danger? And nobody better say ‘oh just take an antihistamine” because I swear to god.” He’s distantly aware his heartbeat has started to pick up speed and he’s raising his voice more than one typically does over the topic of allergies. “It doesn’t even matter. Because I’m fine. It’s just some sneezing, a runny nose, and itchy…well, itchy everything. But it’s fine. I’m perfectly capable of still having fun,” Ben says even as he feels his nose begin to twitch again.

He ducks his head into his arm. “ATdzschuuuh! AdTSCHUHHhhuhh! Goddamnit, I’m going to commit murder!”

“Yay, so glad you’re here, Ben,” Felix says, sardonically. “What a delight it is for us to have you here when you’re in such an obviously great mood. I just can’t wait to spend the evening with —”

Ben can’t let him keep going. “Shut up, Felix. I, in fact, am in a great mood. Mind over matter, right?”

“God, you sound like Connor. And I don’t think that phrase applies to allergies, but you can knock yourself out trying to make it work if that’s what you really want. Just stay away from me while you do it,” Felix says, flashing Ben a smile before grabbing Connor’s hand to pull him away to, presumably, get stuff ready before everyone else comes over.

“You okay?” Arlo asks, the familiar soft, soothing tones almost enough to pull Ben out of his allergy-induced misery.

Ben sniffles thickly. “I’m fine. Super, super, fine. I’m having so much fun,” he says, giving a weak smile and thumbs-up.

“We can go home. Well, we can go to your home. Or, uh, my home. Either home. Or if you want to just be alone, you can go to your home, and I could go to my home,” Arlo sputters and Ben finds the corners of his mouth twitching despite his exhaustion and discomfort.

“If in a hypothetical situation where I were to go to a home — any home — I can assure you I’d want you in the home with me. And it’s silly of you to not know that.” Ben pauses, trying not to laugh as he sees Arlo shift his gaze quickly downward. “I predict a blush in three, two, ah… there it is,” Ben says, an amused smile playing on his lips as he watches the pink creep up Arlo’s cheeks.

Arlo attempts a glare, but it’s impossible for him to come across as anything but almost painfully adorable — not that Ben would ever say so.

“Anyway, there will be no running off to any home. I am a big, strong man who can handle some allergies,” Ben says, flexing his nonexistent muscles.

Arlo frowns. “Are you sure? About not wanting to go to one of our homes? I mean, the prospect doesn’t sound bad to me, at all, I have to say.”

Ben huffs out a laugh. “Okay, first of all, I forbid either of us from saying ‘home’ again because it doesn’t even sound like a word anymore. And second of all, I now see your concern for me is all a facade. You just don’t want to be around people.”

Arlo scrunches up his nose as though the mere thought of ‘people’ is enough to unsettle him. “I mean, people aren’t my favorite….”

“It’ll be fine. Everyone will love you and I’m sure — hold on, I have to heh Hah-dtzCHIEW!”

Ben blinks hard and quickly shakes his head before continuing. “I’m sure you’ll have a good time. I know you like going over to your sister’s for the 4th, but I think leaving your comfort zone will be a good thing.”

Arlo’s expression says he thinks differently, but Ben just squeezes thigh gently. “We’re both going to thrive tonight, Arlo. Just wait and see.”

* * *

“Ndo, I’be dot sigck. It’s just allergies. So, yeah, probise I’be dot codtagious,” Ben says for the forty-thousandth time that evening — this time to Shauna and her husband after he, unintentionally, sneezed uncovered into the air several times. The two now stand in front of their four year old daughter as if to shield her from Ben’s germs.

His nasal passages feel completely swollen, as if no amount of air can make its way through regardless of how many times he blows his nose. If he wants to continue to breathe, which he very much so does, he must keep his mouth open partially. He watches Shauna and Rob smile politely, then say something he can’t understand because he’s too preoccupied building up to another sneeze. He scrunches up his face in a vague approximation of a smile, which must be the right thing to do because they walk off into the backyard to stand under a tree. A surge of envy spreads through Ben at how some people can just stand under a tree and face no consequences from it. Ben, on the other hand, has isolated himself onto the back porch. It’s a small area that doesn’t even provide shade and is barely capable of fitting three people onto it at once. But it’s as far as he can get away from the trees, so it’ll have to suffice.

Not that it seems to be making a significant difference. The tickle from before has fully blossomed, so Ben muffles a desperate, itchy sneeze into his arm. Then another. And another.

He looks out to see Arlo standing by the grill, mingling with guests. They’d been there together, but the smoke had started irritating Ben’s nose and to his alarm, his chest. Memories from when he was little of his parents talking about how he didn't have asthma exactly, but could present “asthma like symptoms,” when his allergies got bad enough, started flitting through his mind. He’d assumed he’d grown out of that, since as an adult, he’s found that usually his symptoms stick to his nasal passages. But there was no denying the tightness of his throat and chest as he breathed in the smoke from the grill and the pollen wafting through the air. As much as he wants to persevere through his allergies and enjoy (or at least make it through) the evening, he also doesn’t want to risk dropping dead from an asthma attack in his best friend’s backyard, so he’d dismissed himself from the conversation to seek refuge on the porch.

Poor Arlo, though, was in the midst of actively participating in whatever discussion they’d been having, so he couldn’t smoothly leave the situation without being rude. Otherwise, Ben’s positive he would have. Everything about his body language right now screams “I was forced to come here and I’d rather eat glass than continue this conversation.”

There’s more people than Ben had expected. This is the first year Felix has actually hosted people at his house for the 4th. Usually he and Ben go to Felix’s parents to celebrate. This year, though, Felix wanted to make a bigger deal out of it now that he and Connor live together. Ben hadn’t given the words much thought at the time, but now as he looks around, he realizes Felix wasn’t kidding. Felix’s parents are here, as well as a plethora of Felix’s friends, who seem to have brought their own friends. Felix’s house is nice, but it’s small. Ben imagines it’s better suited for cozy winter days curled in a blanket watching snow through the window — not a place to host over a dozen people in its tiny backyard. Ben is starting to feel overwhelmed by the amount of socializing happening around him, so he knows Arlo must feel close to drowning.

Ben wants to save him. He really does. But he can still see the smoke from the grill swirling around over everyone’s heads. Even from his spot on the porch, his chest and throat feel irritated. He’s known all along he’d eventually have to retreat inside, but he thought he’d last longer than twenty minutes. He sighs before standing up from his chair. He’s going to have to go in, but he needs to rescue Arlo first.

He makes his way over to the where everyone is clustered around that godforsaken tree, next to the grill. Arlo’s left hand busily picks at his cuticles, while his right hand rhythmically taps away at his thigh. He’s talking about… something. Ben can’t possibly figure out what. His speech has become a string of “um’s” and “uh’s” and “so yeahs.”

“Yeah, so, I mean, I’m just saying that yes, I like fireworks, but it’s hard for me not to feel like we’re ignoring the systemic issues of this country. I mean, it’s like, yeah ‘freedom, whoo-hoo!’ but also there’s an argument to be made that, uh, not all people in this country are necessarily free, you know because of… Well because of a lot of things. And that’s without even getting into any of this country’s historical injustices and….”

Jesus, Ben thinks. I leave him alone for five minutes and he goes on a diatribe, albeit a very awkward one, about the problematic nature of celebrating a country rooted in centuries of inequality.

He quickens his pace until he’s standing next to Arlo. He casually places his hand on the small of Arlo’s back. Arlo immediately relaxes into Ben’s touch, making Ben smile.

“So, what are we talkidg about over here? Surely dot systemic oppressiod?” Ben says, his tone dramatic and eyes wide. Some people laugh, likely relieved at the interruption. He sniffs deeply, wriggles his nose, then rubs it quickly with the back of his hand in effort to lessen his congested tone. “Oh, Is it about that lovely cake Melissa made?” he asks, shooting a smile toward Felix’s mother. “I bet that’s what it is. I can’t wait to eat it. It probably took forever to make, right?”

And just like that, the group begins talking about Felix’s mother’s baking skills. Arlo leans further into Ben then whispers a desperate sounding “thank you” into his shoulder. Ben snorts in amusement, then leads Arlo away from the crowd of people across the short distance to the back porch. Ben feels a warm breeze against his skin and wonders why he ever thought “distancing” himself from the tree would make much of a difference; the wind is going to blow all the allergens everywhere, anyway.

“I don’t even know why I got started, Ben,” Arlo says. “It’s just… everyone was looking at me and asking questions about how I normally celebrate the fourth. So, I opened up my mouth to tell them how I usually spend it at Brooke and her family’s house, you know, with my niece and nephew. But there were just so many eyes on me and before I knew it word vomit was coming out everywhere. ” The look in Arlo’s eyes is frantic and worried.��

Ben takes Arlo’s hands. “It’s okay. I promise no one is judging you. I’d guarantee nearly every person here agrees with your take. It’s just that I think maybe we try to use this day to ignore all that serious shit. You know, just eat some burgers and watch explosions and pretend everything’s fine.”

Arlo’s eyes widen and he grips Ben’s hands tighter. “Oh my god, and that’s another thing. The burgers! Everyone was asking about why I was eating so many pretzels and snack foods so

I explained that I was probably going to eat some cake, but not any of the burgers, which of course, led to them asking why I became vegetarian, and I mean, how do I answer that without making people feel like I’m judging them?”

Ben releases Arlo’s grip so he can wipe his nose. “Well, it’s simple. You say ‘ah, you know, it’s just always been a choice that makes sense for me, personally,’ then you change the subject. Easy peasy.” He stares at Arlo’s eyes, which are now rapidly blinking. Ben has to suppress a laugh. “What you don’t say is anything at all about the ethics of factory farming. I’m sure you didn’t, though, right? Please tell me neither the word ‘factory’ nor ‘farming’ came out of your mouth while standing around a bunch of people eagerly waiting to eat burgers?”

Arlo, wearing the most pitifully crestfallen expression, stares at Ben.

“Oh, Arlo, I can’t take you anywhere,” but even Ben can hear the fondness dripping off the words.

Ben feels his amused expression shift into something else, though, when he notices faint pink splotches trailing up Arlo’s neck.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ben asks, gesturing at his own neck.

Arlo’s brows knit as he looks down at his chest. “What? Oh. Am I splotchy? Sorry, that happens sometimes,” he says quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t want you to apologize, Arlo. I want you to explain why you look like you’ve broken out into hives. You… oh,” he says as realization dawns. “Did you really get that anxious?” Ben regrets immediately how judgemental his tone sounds when he sees Arlo wince. “Hey, it’s okay if you did. I’m just worried. I wouldn’t have left you over heh over — hehhh!”

Ben scrunches up his face, trying to rid himself of the tickle — an action experience has taught him does nothing except make him look exceedingly ridiculous. Still, though, he gives it a valiant effort.

“Heeh-DTZchuUH!”

The sneeze feels particularly strong, but there’s still an intense itch deep within his sinuses.

Fuck, he thinks. This is about to be bad.

“Bless —”

“Bless me, I know, I know,” Ben interrupts, feeling guilty at how much irritation he allowed to slip into his tone. He squints his eyes and fixes his gaze on the sun. “I’ve been haah I’ve been thoroughly blessed today, so my soul’s safe, I think. I — I — het-chuuuh! Etchuuuh! ETschuuuh! Chhh! CHhhh! ETchhh! ETCHooo! ETCHiew! Eh hhhh hhh?”

Ben pulls out a crumpled tissue from his pocket to wipe his nose, but he’s gasping again before he can get a good grasp on it. He watches as it falls to the ground. He shakes his head, then bends forward, hands on his knees, prepared to aim his sneezes at the concrete.

“Ehhh edt’shhhh! Ahhh Ahht’shiew! AdSHUuuuuh!”

That irritated, tight feeling is back in his throat and chest, accompanied by an unbearably strong itching sensation. He quickly becomes lost in a fit of coughing that does nothing to bring any relief. It’s not his normal allergy coughing that serves to relieve his post nasal drip. It’s more urgent.

And it won’t stop.

He feels Arlo’s hand on his back and then hears footsteps. He looks up through watery eyes to see Shauna standing before him, expression full of concern.

“Ben, do you have asthma?” she asks in a calm, but severe tone. He remembers she’s a nurse and probably knows what she’s talking about.

“No. I had — heh — ‘asthma like symptoms’ as a kid. Whatever that means. I don’t know. I just remember my parents saying that. I think I had a rescue inhaler, but I don’t remember ever using it? I really — heh — I really don’t know. Heh et’SHOO! EH’SHOOO!”

And then the coughing takes back over. Every breath he manages in between is a wheeze.

Ben’s not a doctor or a nurse, but it’s still very clear that he should not be outside right now, so he tries to make his way inside through the back door. The problem, though, is his eyes are streaming tears, so he can barely see. His coughing and Shauna’s subsequent abrupt jog over clearly raised alarm in people because it seems that everyone has now decided to relocate onto the small porch. He’s surrounded.

Several people are crowded around the door, which just seems absurd. He assumes they’re well-meaning and wanting to help, but he needs to get in.

Shauna’s hand is on his back, saying something he can’t parse through. Something about how the pollen count is at a record high for this time of year and that he needs to get inside — both things he’s already more than aware of.

He continues to stand with his hands on his thighs, trying to even out his breathing, but the damn coughing refuses to stop. It sounds like everyone’s talking all at once. He hears Melissa, Felix’s mom, say something in a voice threaded with obvious concern. There’s actually a lot of concerned sounding voices. Someone’s asking if they should call 9-1-1, which he thinks is highly unnecessary. It’s surely not that bad.

He just needs everyone to get the fuck out of the way and he’s sure he’d be fine.

Clearly he’s made a bit of a scene of himself. He imagines he looks pretty rough. His eyes are streaming and he has nothing to capture the wetness with aside from the back of his hand. A distant part of Ben’s mind registers this as being a mortifying moment that will replay in his head before falling asleep for decades to come. But right now his main concern is to get the coughing to stop and to just breathe.

If only he could get inside.

To his alarm, he realizes he’s starting to feel lightheaded. “Het’chh! Chh! Chh chh chh eh chh!”

The sneezes he aims at the ground are weak, but make the fuzziness in his head worse, and he still can’t catch his breath for all the coughing. It feels like he’s being touched all over by different people. He doesn’t need to be touched. He needs to be inside.

Suddenly, he feels an arm wrapping tightly around his waist. “Hey, give him space!” The words are firm and surprisingly loud, making it through the chaos around them. “He needs to get inside right now, but you all are blocking the damn door! Move!”

Holy shit, he thinks. That’s Arlo.

The figures quickly disperse and Arlo, still holding onto him tightly, guides him inside to the kitchen.

“There’s no need for everyone to come in and stare at him. Shauna, please stay and help. Everyone else, just go back out for now,” Arlo demands, sounding uncharacteristically confident and in charge. Ben wonders absently if this is how he talks to his students.

“You mean Shauna and Felix,” Felix adds, indignantly. “I’m not staying outside while Ben has an asthma attack.”

“Jesus, Felix, I’m not having an —” Ben’s words break off as he continues to cough and wheeze. It’s becoming harder to get a full breath. He’s surely not having an asthma attack. He doesn’t have those. And he can breathe; it’s just not particularly easy. Yes, his chest is tight and uncomfortable, he’s lightheaded, and his breaths are definitely coming out more wheezy than he’d like. Still, though, he doesn't feel like he’s on the cusp of death — the way he imagines asthma attacks would feel.

Arlo guides Ben to the couch. Ben leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, trying to control his breaths while Arlo rubs his back in soothing circles. Felix sits on his other side — his presence quiet, but comforting.

“Should we get him to the ER?” Felix asks, voice tight with worry.

“No, absolutely not. I’m not going to the ER on the fourth of July with —” Ben breaks off, coughing. “With people who —” More coughing and this time, a slight amount of gasping. “Who have actual injuries, like blown off hands or whatever. I’m fine.”

“I’m not too worried. He’s able to mostly speak in full sentences, so I don’t think he’s in severe respiratory distress,” Shauna says, calmly, from her spot on the coffee table. “All right, Ben. Try to sit up straight and lean a little forward, okay? That’ll help you breathe easier. Focus on getting your breaths in slowly. Try to inhale through your nose and exhale through pursed lips. You’re already starting to sound a little better than you were. I think we can manage this here just fine as long as you stay calm and listen to what I say, okay?”

Ben does as she says, focusing mostly on Arlo’s gentle, soothing touch as he breathes slowly in and out while keeping his eyes closed.

Gradually, the tightness in his chest lessens and his breaths begin coming more easily and with less of a wheeze.

“Does anyone have an antihistamine?” Shauna asks after a few minutes, breaking the silence. Her voice is still calm, but authoritative.

“I have Benadryl. He didn’t want to take it earlier, though. Something about them giving him migraines.” That’s Connor’s voice. He must’ve come in at some point while Ben’s focus was devoted to getting his lungs to work.

“Well, he needs to take it now. And then, Ben,” she continues, addressing him directly. “If you feel like you can, you should take a shower and change your clothes. You’ve been sneezing your head off since I got here. You’re obviously having a severe reaction to some kind of allergen. You’re probably coated in it. After the shower, you need to just rest. I think you had a mild asthma attack. ”

“Het’shuuuh! Eh heh et’shhhhh!”

He sprays the sneezes down at the floor, then wipes his nose with a tissue he vaguely recalls Arlo handing him earlier.

“I don’t have asthma though,” he says, weakly, feeling inordinately exhausted.

“It starts in adulthood for some people. I know you have pretty severe allergies, so I suggest seeing your allergist and talking about this, okay?”

Ben doesn’t have an allergist, but he’s not going to mention that. He’ll sort this whole potential asthma thing out later. Right now he can barely even keep his eyes open. But Shauna’s right — he does need to take a shower and get into non-pollen soaked clothes, so he hums in agreement before getting up to do just that.

* * *

Ben’s never felt more pathetic in his life than he does now, sitting alone watching through a window at everyone else outside talking and having fun. He’d taken a shower and changed into some of Connor’s clothes — some old sweatpants and a t-shirt, both of which are comically oversized, but it was his only option aside from Felix’s clothes, which would have been too small.

Arlo had wanted to go home, of course. Ben, though, refused to admit defeat. He’d promised to have a good time no matter what, allergies and a tiny asthma attack be damned. He looks through the window again and watches as everyone laughs at something Connor apparently said. Arlo’s fingers tap nervously away at his thigh as he stands next to Annie and Lilah. Ben sighs and clutches the blanket he has draped over his shoulders more tightly.

After Ben had his little respiratory episode an hour ago, when it became clear he wanted to stay and watch the fireworks even if it had to be through a window, everyone seemed to fixate on Arlo. It was as if they were determined to make sure he had a good time despite his wreck of a boyfriend. Arlo had tried to mutter something about wanting to keep Ben company, but the confident, assured man from before had disappeared and he easily acquiesced. Connor and Felix had all but swept him away.

“We want to get to know him a little more,” Felix had said. “We work together but I want to see who he is when he’s not in a professional environment, you know?”

It didn’t seem to matter what Arlo had wanted.

Ben shifts on the futon. He’s in Connor’s home office, which also doubles as the place Felix keeps his pet snake and tarantula. It had been Connor’s idea to put in a futon. He’d wanted a guest room, but they simply didn’t have the space in the small, two-bedroom home, so the futon had been a compromise. Ben wonders now if Connor’s “guest room” idea came about from how often it seemed Ben ended up crashing at their place. It’s not like they ever have any other guests. Connor probably got sick of tiptoeing around his own living room while Ben slept on his couch.

“Eh’ptshhh! Eh’tshhh! T’shhhhuh!”

Ben releases the light, misty sneezes into his tissues. After taking the Benadryl (and some Excedrin in a preemptive attempt to stave off any potential migraine) Felix had gotten him nicely set up in the office. He has plenty of tissues, several bottles of water, and a nice, fuzzy throw blanket. But still, he feels like complete shit.

His allergies do feel better, likely due to the antihistamine. The Excedrin seems to have helped him not develop a full-blown migraine, but it didn’t fully prevent a headache — not that he’s surprised. He was probably going to have a headache from how much he’d been sneezing and coughing even if he hadn’t taken the allergy medicine. Mostly, he’s feeling drowsy. Shauna mentioned the asthma attack, which he’s slowly starting to accept is what is indeed what he had, would probably make him feel fatigued. Adding Benadryl into the mix just made everything worse.

He tries to take another bite of the slice of cake Felix’s mom had ordered he eat, but his appetite is nonexistent. He instead spreads the red, white, and blue icing around the paper plate until he sighs and sets it aside.

He reaches for another tissue to blow his nose, then borrows deeper into his blanket. His eyelids feel too heavy, so finally he gives in and lets them close.

“There you are!”

The smile comes before Ben can even open his eyes. When he does, he sees a very flustered looking Arlo standing in the doorway.

“Hey, there you are. Come sit down,” Ben says as he pats the spot next to him, his voice raspy from all the coughing and sneezing.

Arlo immediately complies, his shoulder slumping in apparent relief to be away from the crowd of people. When he makes it to the futon, his gaze scans Ben up and down. “How are you feeling?” he asks, face twisted with concern.

“I’m okay. Just tired,” Ben answers, then frowns as he sees Arlo’s hives from before are still there. They’re actually worse. “Are you okay? You’re, um… a little splotchy again.”

“I’m fine, really. It just happens when I get overwhelmed. Like, socially overwhelmed,” Arlo admits, casting his gaze downward.

“I’m sorry I left you out there to fend for yourself,” Ben says, frowning.

“You didn’t leave me. And I was mostly worried about you. I still feel like we should see a doctor just in case. I mean, Ben, you couldn’t breathe.”

“I mean, technically, I could. It was just a little like doing it through a straw is all,” Ben jokes, weakly.

Arlo nudges his arm. “Stop. You need to take it seriously.”

Ben just groans and leans his head against the futon. Arlo curls into his side, resting his head against Ben’s shoulder.

“This is very nice, but you’re gonna have to move,” Ben announces as he scrunches up his nose.

“What, why?”

“Because I’m going to sneeze,” Ben states simply, his eyes still closed.

“Are you sure? You don’t look like you’re going to sneeze.”

“Oh, but I am. I’m just trying to stall because I know it’s going to kill my already splitting head.”

“Well, I don’t see why I have to move. Just turn your head,” Arlo murmurs, snuggling up even closer.

“It’ll heh hh! It’ll still be in the heh air th-heh-though. Can you hand me a t-hih-issue?”

“It’s not like you’re contagious. It’s fine. I promise,” Arlo assures him, but he pulls away slightly to grab a tissue.

But the sneezes are done being patient and start tumbling out over each other before Ben can take it.

“HEH EH’tchhhh! EDT’shhhh! Edtzshooo! Eh chh! Chhh chhh chh chh uhhh CHH!” He sniffles and realizes he’d unknowingly held Arlo more tightly through the fit, squeezing his side. He has a single moment to wonder if he’d accidentally caused him any pain before he’s taken over again. “EH CHIEW! EH CHIEW! HUUHHH! Tshh! Tshhh! TSHHH! HEH-Tshhhhh!”

Ben hopes Arlo was truthful about not minding if he sneezed openly because he’d guarantee the air they’re both breathing is composed of more sneeze spray than oxygen now.

“Bless you. Are you okay?” Arlo murmurs against his shoulder.

“Yeah, but this will probably go on for a while,” he admits, reaching over to grab the tissue box.

A few moments go by in silence with the two just snuggling on the futon until Ben breaks it with a question he’s been avoiding. “So, feel free to ignore this question if you don’t want to answer. But, have you ever been medicated for anxiety? I’m just wondering because you seem to have some, uh, pretty intense physical reactions.”

Arlo exhales loudly then makes a noise that sounds like a groan. “Yeah, I mean, I was. In my early twenties. But then I stopped because, I don’t know… It seemed like a lot to deal with. Keeping up with the prescriptions, I mean. And I didn't really think I needed it. So, I just kind of stopped.”

Ben snorts, then realizing how rude that seems, quickly defends himself. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I just find it funny because I did the exact same thing with antidepressants. Just stopped taking them. Sometimes I think we couldn’t be any more different, then there’s moments like this….” Ben trails off.

Now it’s Arlo’s turn to snort. “Moments where you realize we have things in common like being really bad at taking care of ourselves?”

“Exactly,” Ben says, laughing.

“Speaking of…. You know you need to go to the doctor, right? To see about this potential asthma thing?”

“That sounds like a lot of work. And money.”

Even though Ben feels like he works nearly every waking moment of his life, going to the doctor has never been a luxury he could afford. Neither of his jobs offer health insurance and he doesn’t make enough money to afford medical care on his own, but makes too much to qualify for any sort of government assistance. He hears fireworks off in the distance and wonders if Arlo’s earlier holiday cynicism is rubbing off on him because thinking about the American healthcare system has him wanting to toss all the 4th of July decorations into the trash.

Arlo shifts from Ben’s embrace and sits up straighter. “If I have to help you pay for a doctor visit, or loan you money or whatever, I will. You said yourself earlier today that your allergies are only getting worse. And you heard a literal medical professional say you probably had an asthma attack. What if you have another, Ben? And it’s worse? You don’t have an inhaler or anything. What if next time sitting up straight and doing breathing exercises doesn’t work?” Arlo speaks quickly, almost breathlessly and his mouth is drawn in a tight line.

“You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” Ben asks with a raised brow. Someone worrying about him, who isn’t Felix, is still very much a novelty.

Arlo stares for a long moment before he blinks slowly. “Of course I’m worried. How could you even ask that? I —” He exhales sharply. “I hate seeing you unwell. You’re — I mean, you… I —” He puts his head in his hands and lets out a frustrated huff. He lifts his head to meet Ben’s gaze. “With all the people today and all the food I couldn’t eat…. And the hives,” he says, emphatically, gesturing at his neck. “They were all worth it because of you. Surely you know that? I mean, you know I wouldn’t willingly come to something like this on my own, right?”

Ben feels a twinge of guilt tug at his chest. “Oh, yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have asked you to come. That was selfish of me.”

Arlo gives him another stare and slow blink combo. “That’s not what I meant. Ben, I love you, but you are so frustrating sometimes that I —” Arlo stops abruptly, his eyes widening into saucers.

Ben opens his mouth, then immediately closes it. Then he watches Arlo’s mouth do the exact same thing.

“Are you sure?” Ben hears himself finally ask. “Like, are you serious? Or did you just mean it the way people say they ‘love’ potato chips or they ‘love’ their car?” Ben doesn’t know what he wishes the answer to be. He doesn’t know anything right now. His head hurts, his eyes feel heavy, and nothing makes sense.

Arlo seems to carefully consider the question. “I feel a lot stronger about you than potato chips or cars. So, yeah, I really mean it. I think.”

Ben rolls his eyes, snorts, then sneezes twice into the tissue he’s been holding before breaking out into nervous laughter. “What a grand romantic declaration of love, Arlo. Seriously, I’m honored.”

A blush has taken over Arlo’s face and he averts his gaze. “Hush. It was an impromptu declaration of love, so stop with your judging.”.

Ben snorts again. Then, sneezes again. “Hmm… I think you can do better. You literally read poetry and shit. You teach students about Walt Whitman and Emily Dickenson. So, go ahead,” he says, gesturing broadly to the space around them. “The floor is yours and there are literal fireworks going off outside, so I expect the very best.”

He doesn’t know why he says it — why he’s inviting Arlo to continue talking about such an absurd thing. Except that he has to maintain the pretense of lightheartedness — has to pretend his fight or flight response hasn’t kicked in and that he’s definitely leaning heavily toward the flight side of things.

Arlo narrows his eyes. “I know you’re teasing, but joke’s on you, because I’ve got this,” he says, his voice taking on a more confident, assured tone. He straightens up on the futon, taking Ben’s hands in his. Ben feels his stomach twist in… what? Dread? Apprehension? Excitement? He doesn’t know, but there’s no time to analyze because Arlo’s staring at him blush-free and with a very intentful look in his eyes.

“Ben —”

Ben abruptly pulls his hands from Arlo’s and desperately grabs the tissue from his lap. “Hah eh-shooo! Eh hih ihtshooo! Ihshooo! IH —heh — fuck. Idtz’shooo!”

Ben blows his nose loudly. “Sorry. Uh, please, proceed to tell you how perfect I am and how much you love me,” he says, voice muffled by the tissue.

Arlo stares at him, his face softening with an expression full of unmistakable fondness. Or, no, it’s more than that, Ben thinks. Arlo doesn’t need to have a grand speech prepared full of eloquent words — his face says everything. How had Ben not seen it before? How is it possible that someone is looking at him with an expression like that? His heart is thundering in his chest and he feels like he should say something to stop Arlo from opening his mouth because what can Ben offer in return? But it’s too late.

“Ben, I love you.”

Ben waits for more, but Arlo continues to sit there staring before he bites his lips.

Ben’s anxiety eases and he feels the corners of his mouth twitch. “That it?”

Arlo frowns. “No. I have more,” he says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, the thing about Dickenson and Whitman is that they had time to write their poetry. To get all the words right. And, Ben, I really want to get the words right.” He pauses, his expression thoughtful. “Do you think you can give that to me? Time to get the words, right?”

Ben feels the tension leave his shoulders and the beat of his heart resume a more normal pace.

“Yes, if you do the same for me. Give me more time, I mean. You deserve the right words, too. Words not said through a Benadryl haze. And, honestly, Arlo, you also deserve more time to really think about your feelings. I mean, you barely know me,” Ben adds, hating the crack in his voice that has nothing to do with his allergies. “There’s still so much shit about myself I haven’t even shown you. So, save the speech for later okay? For when you’re sure.”

Ben knows that he’s never going to get to hear the speech. Because with enough time, Arlo will come to his senses and realize Ben tricked him — that he hid his true self away and when Arlo finally does see who Ben really is — well, he’s definitely not going to care anymore about the “right words” or perfectly crafted romantic speeches.

Arlo silently stares at Ben for such a long time that he has to stop himself from squirming in discomfort. Finally Arlo lets out a long sigh before taking Ben’s hands in his. “Okay, then. We won’t talk about it anymore for now. I won’t tell you any more about how I love you. And you don’t have to say it back.” At this, Ben shifts uncomfortably on the futon and begins to open his mouth, but Arlo holds a hand out, stopping him. “But, Ben, I do promise. I promise that one day I will find the right words to encompass everything I feel for you. It’s not a matter of if but when.”

Ben says nothing. What can he say to that?

Outside, the fireworks continue. Ben clears his throat before slowly pulling his hands away from Arlo’s. “C’mon, let’s actually watch the fireworks Felix stupidly spent hundreds of dollars on.”

So the two leave the futon to stand by the window that gives them a perfect view of the fireworks. Ben wraps his arm around Arlo, who easily leans in. Ben snorts as he sees Connor pull a lighter away from Felix’s hand. He doesn’t need to hear to know Connor is forbidding Felix from setting off any fireworks. With Felix’s history of being accident prone, Ben has to agree with Connor’s decision.

The fireworks really are beautiful. He and Arlo stand shoulder-to-shoulder in silence as they watch the pretty colors explode and crackle across the sky. Children are running through the yard and Ben can see from here that everyone is having a fun time laughing and celebrating.

Ben remembers his promise from earlier in the day — to have a good time no matter what. He’s had multiple horrendously awful allergy attacks, as well as what most likely was an asthma attack. He was forced by his body’s limitations to sequester himself off in a single room to watch everyone else celebrate through a window. He’s had what anyone would consider to be an exceptionally bad day.

And yet….

“Thank you for being here with me. You have a way of making things feel a little less awful,” Ben says softly.

“God, you too. All I could think about while I was out there was ‘I just have to make it back to Ben and everything will be better.’ And it is better. When I’m with you, I feel like I can finally breathe,” Arlo says, giving a long exhale as if to demonstrate his point.

Ben recalls how just an hour earlier, it felt like there had been a weight on his chest. Each breath had taken a deliberate effort from his burning lungs. Arlo had been his anchor, soothing him with his gentle touch. As Ben focused on Arlo, he’d felt the weight slowly lift until he was finally able to get in a full breath.

He turns to face Arlo — his features flickering beautifully in red and gold from the last firework. “I can breathe better when I’m with you, too” Ben finally says, pulling Arlo in closer as another firework lights up the sky.

He thinks back to what Arlo said about loving him. Ben knows it can't last, but in this moment, he can pretend.

They continue to stand together in the dimly-lit room as the muffled booms from outside rattle the window pane and the lights dance across the walls. As the last firework of the night crackles into silence, Ben realizes with astonishment that despite the incessant sneezing and minor health crisis, he truly did enjoy the day — and that the reason is solely down to the man standing next to him.

Part 10

#just realizing i never posted this chapter here... oops #i always post to the forum first and sometimes i forget about tumblr #snz #snz fic #snzblr

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cosmosluckycharms · 1 month ago

Note

[base on your last post]

CAN WE GET A CHAPTER ON THE READERS LIFE WHEN THEY WERE LIVING WITH MIGUEL⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

SOREY I GOT TO THIS SO LATE (70 days oops)

this is also ass cause writers block is a bitch sigh

i hate this LMFAO

also bla wont be getting an update until i finish showtimes next chapter cause ive been neglecting it LMFAO

Bug Like Angel

Coming home

Living with Miguel wasn't easy.

It was a strange change from living in the manor.

As soon as you moved in, you realized how differently you were going to live.

Sure, you'd been at his apartment lots of times, so you knew how to get around the apartment, but having to downsize from a mansion to a tiny apartment for two slightly annoyed you.

You made your way to your room and ignored all the pictures of Gabriella in the hallway and laid down on your bed.

Your room wasn't as decorated as the one back in the manor.

It mostly was decorated with items from past hangouts you had with your friends and forgot to take with you back to the manor.

It was a lot smaller than your room back at the manor.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss your room back at the manor.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss how big the manor was.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss the garden in the backyard.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss all the room the manor had.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss using Bruce's credit card to go on shopping sprees.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss all your expensive clothes and makeup.

What you didn't miss was your so-called "family."

Back when you lived in the manor, you were free to go wherever whenever due to your family forgetting about you

Sometimes, you wouldn't inform anyone, and no one would notice you were gone, not even Alfred.

Sometimes you'd be gone for weeks at a friend's house before Alfred noticed you had left.

So it was surprising to you when Miguel actually noticed you leaving.

You were about to go walk around New York and make a new friend or two.

If you were going to move here, you might as well meet some new people.

With your phone in hand and keys in the other, you started making your way out the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, looking up from his hologram computers.

You tilted your head in confusion. "Out?"

"No way. Do you know how dangerous that is? It's 8 pm, it's dark out, and you could get hurt." He spoke in an authoritative tone.

That whole interaction left you somewhat confused.

Not because it didn't make sense, because it did.

Children are supposed to be seen.

You, for once, were seen.

It was also strange living with someone who cared about you enough to check up on you.

You were also used to sitting by yourself for hours on end, not speaking to anyone.

Sometimes you'd be in your room for days at a time, not coming out for anything.

Alfred would leave food at your door, and you had everything you needed.

You used to have a big bedroom with its own bathroom and window.

So it was surprising when Miguel would check in on you every hour or so.

It was annoying at first; you liked your peace and quiet.

You liked being able to have a moment to sit down and be by yourself for hours, days on end.

But you got used to it.

You understood this was his way of making sure you weren't running off and getting into trouble.

You were used to not having to cook or clean, so suddenly having to do chores around the apartment was slightly annoying.

And also concerning. How do you not know how to do simple chores?

Sometimes, while Miguel was at work, you'd get hungry and try to cook.

But you had no experience due to Alfred always making food and never teaching you, so usually you'd either make it inedible or burn the food.

One time, you almost burnt the kitchen down.

Miguel had just come back from work, only to see you trying to put out a fire with water.

"Mija, move!" He panicked and pushed her out of the way to grab a fire extinguisher.

You froze up watching him frantically push you out of the way and put out the fire.

"What were you thinking?!" He put the extinguisher away.

"I—I'm sorry! I was trying to cook some ramen!" You trembled.

He put his hands on his hips. "How did it catch on fire?"

"I was boiling the water, and it caught on fire!"

"You burnt water?"

"…yeah."

"Dios mío...How did you manage to burn water?"

"Don't ask me how I did it; I just did it. It was hard."

"Hija de tu puta—You know you could've gotten hurt? You could've burnt down this apartment with you in it!" The way Miguel was scolding you reminded you of when Bruce had yelled at you for almost hurting Damian.

After a while longer of scolding, you walked off to your room.

You walked past all the pictures of Gabriella on the walls. You pretended not to care about how you knew that if Gabriella had done what you did, Miguel wouldn't have scolded her.

You didn't cry in your pillow.

You put on your headphones and scrolled on your phone.

Due to you having your music on full blast, you didn't hear Miguel knocking on your door.

"Hey, mija," He spoke.

"..."

"Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. I was scared you were going to get hurt." Miguel sat down on the edge of the bed.

"…really?" You put your phone down.

"Mhm."

You stayed silent, fidgeting with the bracelets on your arm.

Miguel cleared his throat, continuing, "Look, how about next time you're hungry, we can work together to make a meal instead of you struggling alone."

"I don't need help," you snapped, sitting straight up. "I've practically helped myself for 15 years; I'm perfectly fine."

"It's okay to need help."

"It's not okay. I'm not a child, and I don't need help." You argued, attempting to hide your angry tears in the sleeves of your shirt.

You felt a hand on your shoulder.

You instantly melted into his touch.

"Listen," he spoke, "you don't have to deal with this alone. I know how big of a change this is for both of us."

"I'm fine," you argued, avoiding his eyes.

"It's okay to ask for help."

"I don't want to be a burden."

"You aren't a burden; you never have been and never will be."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure."

You stayed quiet, processing his words.

He sighed and walked out your door quietly.

You ended up taking his offer up, the one where he taught you how to cook.

It was a mess because of you both mostly playing around and not taking it seriously, but at least you didn't burn down the kitchen this time.

Miguel was getting tired of driving you around, from parks, the gym, the mall, etc.

Plus, to your new friends' houses and hangouts.

So, he took you to finally get you a car.

It wasn't until you chose the car and were about to drive it that you realized:

"...I can't drive."

"What do you mean you can't drive?" he asked in disbelief.

"I mean, I never learned. No one ever taught me." You had asked Jason to teach you, and he never did.

From then on, Miguel attempted to teach you.

He would teach you for roughly an hour every day.

The conversations you both would have usually went like this:

"Ve a la derecha," he said, pointing at the GPS.

"What's derecha?" you asked.

He let out a sigh. "Right."

Out of habit, you put your hands out into an 'L' shape to figure out your right.

He let out another sigh. "Dont tell me you dont know—."

You cut him off "I don't know my lefts and rights!"

Miguel started rubbing his temple in annoyance.

It took a while for you to be fully able to drive; even then, it wasn't flawless.

Once you got pulled over by the police for accidentally speeding, and they had to contact "your parents."

That'd be fine if you weren't literally in another universe you technically shouldn't be in.

You had to lie to the police and tell them you lived by yourself, and they let you off with a warning.

As you made your way home, you realized you should probably blend in as Miguel's daughter.

"Can I have your last name?" you didnt want to ask to be adopted, you didnt want to be an annoyance to him.

"Well, good evening to you too."

"It'll make it easier to blend in here. I'm the only Wayne in New York." You argued

"Listen, I have to have paperwork to do it—"

You cut him off, passing him the paperwork you've had for him from a month ago.

"Alright."

From then on, you were an O'Hara, which you preferred over Wayne.

You didn't want to be connected to your "family."

Living with Miguel wasn't easy, but it was easier than living with the Waynes.

GHIS IS SO BAD AND YOH PROBABLY DONT WVEN RWMEMBER SENDING TBIS IM SL SORRY

oh god this is buttcheeks

also taglist is closed 😭

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!): @bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert @vanessa-boo @ryuushou @whiskeygirl7 @seemeee3 @inojinieeee @oliviaewl @djpuppy-kittens @w31rd3rg1rl @br33zy-blizzardz @eyeless-kun @strangelymid @twismare @cat-lover-over-9000 @jaemindontberude @galaxypurplerose @paastaboi @senhoritaapple @whiskeygirl7 @chezze-its @toastloverr @antov828 @mirai-in-the-headspace @vanilliona @anuttellaa @the-dumber-scaramouche @writing-flower @otterluver05 @wizzerreblogs @mycatateit @icryat2 @lunamonkeypower @1abi

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oddinary4bts · 11 months ago

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 13 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: college anxiety, angst, Gabrielle, Lisa, alcohol, cursing, mentions of cheating, a frat party, explicit content: implied sex

☆word count: 8.9k

☆a/n: more angst oop- I hope you guys like it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, August 30

Summer came and went. Like everything in life, it became just a moment in time, a short movie consisting of flashing scenes of friendship and fun and sun, of pools and tanning and hikes. Summer was perfect, summer was healing, yet summer couldn’t heal everything.

Summer hasn’t healed a doe-eyed boy from your heart, but you think it’s okay. You think, perhaps your love for Jungkook is just everlasting, another one of those memories you know you’ll cherish for the rest of your life.

You reckon, if you were to have kids one day and they’d asked you who your first love was, you wouldn’t be able to answer their father.

It will always be Jungkook, no matter the bitterness and the pain of the ending.

It’s his necklace you wear on your heart every day after all.

You’ve worked all summer, amassing money to cover your expenses for the year. You’ve gone back home with Taehyung for a week your mother had off, and you spent it camping like you did when you were kids, gaze getting lost in starlight and sun rays on the water, reflections of light that left afterimages on your retina.

Much like Jungkook is an afterimage on your heart. Never fully erased, yet the pain isn’t as sharp anymore. Like the time soothed its edges, reminding you of the good part, allowing you to let go of the bad.

The first news you had of Jungkook this summer was stories posted on a Saturday evening, of him and Lisa and friends in New York City. Turns out Lisa landed an internship at an architect firm in New York through her father’s connections, and turns out it was all she needed to be welcomed into Jeon Jungkook’s world over there.

You’d been jealous back then, bitterly so. Yoongi, bless his heart, had forced you to hang out at his place, claiming the empty room needed to be repainted before Namjoon moved in for the semester. It’d been a good distraction, and by the end of the weekend, you’d realized that Jungkook was allowed to have friends, to move on from your idyllic moment in his life.

It hurt, but it was a sign of healing.

You got closer to Yoongi over the summer. Learned all about his past, about his high school and how his parents were supportive when he came out, yet reluctant when he brought his first boy home. He’d told you how he met Hoseok in his last year of high school despite not attending the same school, and how their friendship had immediately blossomed.

Only to wither in April, when Hoseok had chosen to leave. None of you or your friends have had any news of him since then, like he wiped his existence from all of your lives like it was nothing. It’s been hard for Yoongi, harshly so, so you’ve made sure to always be available for him, too.

Namjoon and Nabi’s relationship didn’t suffer such a fate. They’ve only been growing stronger over the summer, proof that despite Namjoon getting out of his relationship with his ex and jumping in the one with Nabi right away, they were meant for each other. In truth, you’ve never seen anyone love each other like Namjoon and Nabi do, and maybe that most of all has healed your bleeding heart.

There has to be someone out there who’ll love you like you’re the one who paints his every sunset.

Seokjin wasn’t on the receiving end of such a relationship. He’d confessed to Ria halfway through the summer, telling her that he couldn’t do the see-saw anymore, that he needed everything or nothing, and in good Ria fashion, your friend ran. She ran and ran, until Seokjin told her he was ashamed of having believed she deserved to be loved.

The blow has been hard on Ria, and she hasn’t been with anyone since then. Hasn’t mentioned Seokjin once either, but you know that, whenever you go out, he’s the one she’s looking for.

The strangest part of this summer happened on a random Tuesday evening when you’d just come home from work. Taehyung and Ariane, ever so the lovebirds, had been hanging out in the living room when you’d crossed the threshold. Taehyung’s gaze had shot to you, and he’d uttered words you think have been carved into your brain.

“Did you know Jungkook is the heir of JJS pharmaceuticals?”

You did. You knew about his father’s company - he’d told you once when you’d been lying with your head on his chest, one of the rare times he’d talked about his family after your weekend escapade to New York.

But you knew Jungkook’s existence had been mostly a secret, his father refusing to announce his existence to the world because Jungkook had refused to study at an Ivy League College.

At the confusion on your face - or rather, the masked pain you’d been hiding for weeks and months - Taehyung had added, “There was a conference press, and he’s all over social media.”

He was. You found out quickly enough, articles and articles about him showing up on your Instagram as well. You’d seen pictures from the press conference: though his father had been smiling wide, Jungkook had only been staring at the camera, like he’d wished he could disappear.

You don’t know what led him to accept a position at his father’s company before he’d even graduated, but you knew then and know now that it had to not have been his choice.

So indeed, summer came and went until it became just a memory, and the new semester now looms over the horizon, a reminder that though your skin might have been sunkissed these last few months, it’s now time to return to reality.

You’re sitting in the kitchen, indulging in Buldak noodles as you read a book about Faes and High Lords and a Night Court. You’ve started reading again over the summer, another way to escape that helped fill your breaks at work when you didn’t go out for lunch with your coworkers. It was nice to reconnect with your previous love for reading - indeed, you’d spent years in middle school and high school getting lost in fantasy and dystopian worlds, and recovering this part of you might have been another way to heal.

It’s reminded you that every story is worth telling, even those that don’t end well.

So you sit at the kitchen table, halfway done with your noodles, when the front door opens and closes.

“Hello!” you greet out of reflex.

Taehyung and Ariane were out shopping for groceries, and though they haven’t left a long time ago, you assume it’s them coming home.

“Do you need any help?” you ask as no one replies, which is strange.

They’re always talking about everything and nothing, joking around like they’re the only people in the world. It’s something you do find cute, but that always grates your nerves in all the wrong ways.

Where Nabi and Namjoon have been making you feel hopeful when it comes to love, Taehyung and Ria have made you jaded too.

The silence prolongs, and you don’t even hear them taking off their shoes. You furrow your brows, wondering if they’re trying to prank you. So you put your book down even though you are in the middle of a good scene, and you push up from the table, heading towards the kitchen’s doorway.

You reckon, maybe you should have expected it. You’d known he was coming back at some point - he still has a year left of college. But you didn’t think he’d show up on an early Friday evening, clutching his duffel bag and standing by the door like he’s a guest in his own home.

He’s changed. The first thing you notice is that he’s changed: he doesn’t have the eyebrow piercing anymore, his hair is shorter - almost entirely shaved at the sides - and though he still has the lip piercings, he looks different than what you remember.

As if a few months was enough to blur your memories of Jeon Jungkook, and the wound you’d thought to be healed over the last few months reopens, pouring liquid lava on your entire body until you think you’re burning, and not in a good way.

He’s dressed in all black, like some things don’t change after all. He looks more built than he was last semester, like he’s gone to the gym a lot more over the summer. His tattoos have also changed - they’ve been coloured, some of them, as if he tried to put colours back into his life.

You hope it worked. But when you hold his gaze, the heaviness making you want to disappear through the floor, you think maybe it didn’t work at all.

“Y/n,” he greets.

His voice has changed too. Or maybe it’s just the emotions, maybe it’s just the fact that the last thing he ever told you were those words in the letter you keep hidden in your night table, words you’ve romanticized every night trying to fall asleep.

Not that you would tell anyone.

“Jungkook,” you reply in the same tone.

He nods once, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he takes off his shoes. You watch him, dumbly standing in the doorway, and he shoots you a look once his shoes - black boots that look far too warm for the summer - are off.

“How are you?”

His three words throw you off. They make you feel like last semester might have been a construct of your imagination, but then again you hold that letter too dearly, and the memories of him have been your favourites for months now.

“I’m okay,” you reply, nodding once. “How are you?”

He pulls on his piercings, the gesture familiar yet so different than how you’ve been imagining it every night. “I’m chill.”

He starts to walk towards his room, but he stops halfway there, glancing over your head into the kitchen.

“Want something to eat?” you ask, and you wonder if he hears your heart as it picks up in your chest.

You see the moment he spies the Buldak noodles on the table. He smiles softly, with his eyes first, and you think maybe this is it.

Maybe he came back home.

Came back home to you.

But then his features fall, the smile vanishing and darkness invading his gaze. He shakes his head no, nodding towards his room. “Thanks, but I gotta unpack.”

You watch him walk the rest of the way towards his bedroom. He turns the knob, pushes the door open, yet he freezes there. His shoulders tense, and even though you don’t see his features, you know he wants to say something else.

You hope he will, hope he’ll say something that might mend the bridge between the two of you. That might erase this abyss between you and him until the ending disappears.

You know it’s because you haven’t seen him in a long time. Know that, when it all comes down to it, you wouldn’t go back to him - he broke your heart, and you’d be a fool to return to him. But you like to imagine that you would as he stands there, that you’d run to him if he turned and said the right words.

But he doesn’t. He sighs, and then he walks into his room, shutting the door softly behind him. And as he disappears from view, you feel yourself stumble, like you’ve taken a hit right to the chest. You lay a hand over your beating heart, almost expecting to feel blood trickling through your fingers.

As if he’s just broken your heart all over again, torn it from your ribcage. Yet it breaks - you didn’t think he still had that power over you.

Hell, you thought you’d been moving on.

You walk back into the kitchen, the room spinning around you. You drop in the chair you were sitting in before, eyeing your book. And though you want to get lost in the fantasy world again, you’re bleeding out on your chair, pain burning along every single one of your nerves.

How are you supposed to share a roof with the one that broke your heart?

The answer is easy. You can’t.

You need to get out of here, and quickly.

Monday, September 2nd

Your first day back to college is long. You’ve got two classes - a morning and an afternoon class, both of them three hours long.

When the second one ends - luckily half an hour early ‘because it’s the first day’ as the professor said - you make your way out of class with Nabi. She’s typing away on her phone, likely asking Namjoon when he’ll be home, yet she follows you as you head to the dorms.

You’ve been crashing at the girls’ dorm over the weekend, as you try to figure out what you should do. You haven’t figured anything yet - Taehyung’s been telling you that you shouldn’t move out, asking if it’s because of Ariane moving in, and though you’ve been good at avoiding mentioning Jungkook, there’s just so much you can do before you burst and admit that it’s because of him.

But it’s okay - Nabi’s been staying with Yoongi and Namjoon, so you have her bed all to yourself, and Ria and you have been treating it like a massive sleepover, doing face masks every night and getting mildly drunk on Saturday.

Nabi sighs as you walk towards the dorms, and you throw her a look.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel like this semester is about to be the worst,” she admits, slightly shaking her head. “Namjoon basically confirmed it.”

You hook your arm with hers, resting your head on her shoulder. “Baby, it’s fine. We’re in this together.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the top of our class.”

“And you’re the second,” you remind her. “We’ll be okay, I promise.”

She nods, heaving out a heavy breath again. “Is it bad that I’m already anxious?”

You don’t reply right away, as you pass through a group of engineer students gathered in front of a class, most likely getting ready for an evening class. An evening class on the first Monday…

You feel bad for them.

“It’s not bad,” you reply once you’ve finally walked past. “It means that you care about your grades. You just need to not let it eat you alive.”

“I think I’m just realizing that getting into med school might be harder than we thought,” she says with a sigh.

You stop, tugging on her arm so that she stops too. “No, I’m not having any of that,” you tell her. “We’ll both get in, Nabi, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, folding her arms on her chest.

“Yup.” You nod forcefully. “Dead serious. And after that, it’s smooth sailing until residency. And then we get a residency together, and we become sexy doctors.”

“Bruh,” she lets out, and she chuckles.

You’re happy your distraction works because you truthfully didn’t know where you were headed with it. “I promise!” you insist. “Give us a couple of years, and we’ll have our own practice.”

“You want to be a surgeon, and I want to be an ophthalmologist,” she reminds you. “Not quite sure we’d practice at the same place.”

You shrug, and you start walking towards the dorms again. “To be fair, we’ll probably both end up at a hospital. We just need to find a way to work at the same one.”

She purses her lips. “That sounds doable.”

You smirk mischievously. “Damn right.”

*****

Nabi ends up staying with you and Ria at the dorm for a couple of hours after class, and you order takeout that you eat sitting in a circle on the floor like you usually do when you do pre-drinks before a party. It’s fun, more chill than a pre-party gathering, and Ria tells you all about how she ran into Seokjin on campus today.

“He didn’t even look at me,” she admits. “What a dick.”

You exchange a knowing look with Nabi. “Maybe he didn’t see you,” you try.

“He ignores me when we all hang out together too,” she points out. “He’s doing it on purpose.”

Nabi scrunches up her nose. “Yeah… you did lead him on for months.”

“Not my fault if he fell in love,” Ria grumbles, her gaze dropping to the rice bowl she’s eating.

“It might not be your fault, but you still led him on,” Nabi pushes.

Ria huffs a breath, scoffing, but she doesn't say anything. She never really does when it comes to Seokjin anyway.

“Why are you so against the idea of being with him again?” you ask.

The scalding look you earn would put a dragon to shame. “Because I don’t want to be in a relationship,” she says, sounding like you a year ago when your friends had been pestering you about Hoseok.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“We all know he’d treat you like a goddess though,” Nabi says. “The guy’s a hopeless romantic.”

Ria rolls her eyes. “Cringe.”

You playfully push her, and she bursts out laughing. You don’t miss the way her cheeks have dusted with pink though - and neither does Nabi - but you don’t mention it.

You have a feeling Ria is lying to herself more than she’s lying to the both of you, but you’d never dare tell her. She’ll figure it out on her own or not, and that’s what being in college is.

You try stuff; some of it works, and some doesn’t.

Jungkook invades your thoughts, your chest aching all over again. You reach for the peach at the end of the chain, playing with the pendant mindlessly as if that can tame the ache, push it back to the back rooms of your mind.

It barely works, yet you manage to be able to let go of him after a few deep breaths, and a prolonged silence of Nabi staring at Ria while the latter is solely focused on eating. Your unease went unnoticed, which you reckon is a relief.

Confiding in them about Jungkook has helped over the summer, obviously, but there are some things you want to keep to yourself. Because Jungkook deserves the centrepiece in all of the secrets you’ve ever held - he was the grandest of them all last semester after all.

Still is, considering you’ve been lying to Taehyung about him all summer. Not that you really had to lie. You just avoided mentioning Jungkook, staying vague about your semester while Taehyung told you everything about Paris.

And so you end up saying goodbye to Nabi when she decides to go over to Yoongi and Namjoon’s apartment - Namjoon was quick to take Hoseok’s old room, seeking to leave the dorms once and for all - and you and Ria watch Demon Slayer, her favourite anime.

Coincidentally one of Jungkook’s favourite animes too, not that it matters.

You sigh - reminders of him are everywhere lately, and though you have been moving on over the summer, the ache has been revived. You wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he at home, watching anime or playing video games? Is he hanging out with Taehyung, with Jimin and their other friends? Or is he locked up in his room like he was all of Friday, before you fled the apartment?

It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Because Jungkook will always matter: he meant too much to you. Still does, and you don’t know what to make of it.

Ria sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts as the episode finishes. You glance at her - you’re lying side by side on her bed, a laptop in between you to watch the show.

“What’s wrong?” you ask her.

She purses her lips, shrugging, though it proves to be awkward considering the position. “I don’t know. It’s just… Is something wrong with me?”

A concerned crease appears between your eyebrows. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know…” She pauses, gaze still focused on the laptop screen as if she can’t bring herself to meet your own. “Why am I so opposed to relationships? To love in general?”

Oh.

“Oh Ria…” you let out.

“Don’t,” she warns. “I don’t want to be pitied.”

You press your lips in a tight line, nodding once. She chuckles, and then she starts the next episode, like she needs a moment to collect her thoughts.

“It’s just…” she says as Tanjiro fights a demon, the fight continued from the last episode. “I’m aware that Seokjin would be good for me. I enjoyed spending time with him too. But the second he mentioned feelings…”

“It turned you off,” you complete for her.

She nods. “It really did.”

“Why do you think it did?” you ask, even though you know it has to be because of her ex.

She sighs deeply. “That’s the thing. I really don’t know. I had a loving family growing up, so I can’t blame it on that. I had friends too, good friends, but then when my ex cheated…”

“It broke the part of you that could trust easily,” you say. “And it’s understandable, and totally valid.”

“I guess so…” she trails off. “I just feel like letting someone in is too much of a vulnerability.”

“That makes sense,” you say. “You like being in control, and you feel like being in a relationship would make you lose control.”

She glances at you, eyes slightly narrowed. “Sometimes I swear to God you sound like a therapist.”

You laugh - it’s not the first time you’ve been told that. Yoongi said so last semester too, when you’d helped him get over Hoseok.

“Don’t ask me for advice though,” you say, scrunching up your nose. “I don’t think I’d have any good advice.”

“Not to be mean, but after what you put yourself through last semester, I don’t think your advice would be really helpful,” she teases.

You widen your gaze. “That was mean.”

She pouts, offering you puppy eyes. You push her on the shoulder, and she rolls on her back, laughing. “No, but seriously,” she says. “I don’t blame you. You fell in love, and that’s not your fault, is it?”

You remain silent, not wanting the conversation to turn to Jungkook.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes after a few seconds of silence. “You’re right, that was mean.”

“You’re not wrong, though,” you reassure her. “I saw all the red flags and chose to ignore them.”

Ria turns on her side again, facing you. “That’s love for you. Everyone ignores all the red flags the moment they start having feelings for someone else.”

Like Seokjin, but you don’t say it. You highly doubt she needs to hear it.

“Cheers to that,” you say, though you are void of any beverage at the moment.

You’ve left your water bottle on the floor, too far to reach from where you’re lying in bed.

“You know what we should do?” Ria says a while later, when the episode is coming to an end. “We should go to the party on Friday. The one Dave’s frat is hosting.”

The name Dave rings an extremely distant bell - you think you went to a party hosted by his frat last semester, but you’re not quite sure.

“I thought we were already planning to go.”

Ria looks at you, mischief slowly filling her gaze. “We should go and find some cute guys to forget about all of our problems with.”

You laugh. “Men aren’t the solution to everything, you know that, right?” you tease.

“Oof. They’re the root of the problem most of the time, I know.” She pauses, purses her lips. “But we’re due to have fun. You know Nabi and Namjoon will come for an hour or two and disappear anyway.”

“What about Yoongi?”

“We’ll find him someone too! He deserves it.” She nods, clearly convinced that her plan is the best she’s ever come up with.

And Yoongi does, you think that out of the three of you, he’s the one that deserves a healthy relationship the most.

So you nod your head, saying, “It’s going to be lit.”

You can only hope that it is and that you don’t end up crying because of a certain doe-eyed man you should have let go of months ago.

Friday, September 6th

[11:17 am] bröther👽: just letting you know that Gaby is in town so Ari will be staying with her [11:17 am] bröther👽: come home

The texts Taehyung sent to you in the morning sit unanswered on your phone. Mostly because you didn’t know what to say - he still firmly believes you’ve decided to move out because of Ariane, and you think it might have killed a possible friendship with her in the bud.

If only they knew why you truly left. It likely wouldn’t be any better - Jungkook would be dead in a ditch somewhere, and you’d be grounded by your older brother like you were when you were in high school.

You know Taehyung is likely only going to grow suspicious if you ignore him, but you really just don’t know what to say. He’s likely going to be at the party tonight - you’ll make an effort to speak to him, to reassure him, and then you’ll disappear with your friends.

That is, if Jeon Jungkook isn’t with him. Because if Jungkook’s there, you’ll avoid Taehyung like the plague, no matter if that might make him even more suspicious.

“I literally cannot physically wait,” Ria says next to you, and you shoot her a quick look as she puts mascara on.

She’s going all out tonight, and you wonder if it’s because Yoongi mentioned Kim Seokjin will be in attendance. Obviously, you don’t want to attract her ire, so you don’t say it, but you reckon Seokjin has been a ghost in every conversation since last Monday.

Much like Jungkook has been, but you’ve been good at pretending he hasn’t.

“I really hope they’ve stocked up on free alcohol,” you say, knowing you’ll need it, mostly because if Taehyung is in attendance, then Ariane will likely be, and so will Gabrielle.

Your heart sinks in your chest at the thought - you haven’t told Ria, not wanting to ruin her enthusiasm.

“Do you want to curl your hair?” Ria says as she finishes with the mascara.

You shrug. “Nah, I think I’ll keep it natural,” you answer. “But you should curl yours.”

She narrows her gaze, staring at herself in the mirror. “You know what, yeah, I should.”

You chuckle, and then you both busy yourself getting ready. You apply more makeup than you usually do, only because you know it’ll be a mask you’ll use all evening.

Does Gabrielle even know about your existence?

You finish getting ready, stealing from Ria’s closet to get dressed. You settle on a pair of black leather pants, along with a black crop top t-shirt that hugs tight to your frame, revealing just an inch of the bird tattoo you got done on your right ribs in May.

You stare at the ink, thinking about Taehyung’s reaction. He’ll likely be pissed at you, but you’re done caring. If he wants to be mad, then so be it.

“Your ass looks amazing in this,” Ria compliments from behind you, and you snort as you turn to look at her.

She’s wearing a sage green corset that leaves little to the imagination. You compliment her in return, and she winks at you, before suggesting to down a couple of shots before leaving. You immediately agree, and you’ve got a light buzz by the time you leave the dorms, heading to the frat house.

It’s already crowded by the time you get there, the loud music having attracted all the party-goers on campus. The front lawn is cramped, and Ria grabs your hand, pulling you through the crowd to head to the house proper.

You make it to the hall, and luckily enough, there aren't as many people here. You’re able to navigate to the living room, where Dave - he really is the guy from last semester - finds you, offering drinks to the two of you.

You grab a beer, not trusting the questionable punch that Dave claims was prepared earlier today. Ria follows your lead, and you clink bottles with Dave, who admits he has no clue what’s in the punch when you’ve all taken your first sips.

“Bruh, why were you trying to sell it to us then?” Ria asks, eyebrows raised.

Dave laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Colton said it was good.”

Colton… you wonder if it’s the same Colton that had warned you about Jungkook once.

“And we’re supposed to trust Colton?” Ria teases.

Dave winces. “Not really, no, he’s already drunk.”

Ria nods as you take a sip of your beer, the bitter liquid heady on your tongue. You turn your head to the side, noticing a very distraught Yoongi walking into the living room, followed close by an even more distraught Seokjin. You wave them over, and Ria and Dave both turn their heads towards the new arrivals.

You notice Ria tensing from the corner of your eye, and Seokjin looks just as uncomfortable as he stops next to you. You hug Yoongi hello, and he doesn’t let you go right away, whispering in your ear, “This place is a shitshow, I don’t think we’ll stay.”

You pout as you pull away. “We said beer pong,” you remind him.

He rolls his eyes, though you know he’s always liked playing beer pong. So you manage to convince him to go for at least one game, though you know you’ll have to wait in line for a while before it’s your actual time to play. It makes for an awkward waiting - Ria and Seokjin are both ignoring each other, and Yoongi and you are standing in the middle, trying to engage in conversation.

You’re finally on the side of the table when you recognize your brother’s laugh, a sound you were sort of hoping not to hear in this crowd. You look to your left - he’s by the garden doors that lead to the backyard, Ariane cuddled up against him, and you think the girl standing with her back to you has to be Gabrielle.

“Shit,” you let out.

Yoongi furrows his brow at the sudden curse. “What’s wrong?” You motion towards the door, and his eyes widen. “Is that who I think it is?”

He knows about Gabrielle. He’s stalked her with you, during one of your many downward spirals, and Gabrielle has that kind of aura that is all too recognizable, even if you’ve only seen her once in a picture.

“I think so,” you reply, and Ria finally leans in to join the conversation.

“Is that Gaby?” she asks, loud enough for the people around you to hear.

You tap her arm, giving her a warning glance, though you’re pretty sure no one’s actually listening. Even Seokjin didn’t glance towards you at the outburst.

But Taehyung notices you, and you quickly turn away, pretending to be focused on the game unfolding on the table in front of you. There’s one cup on the left, three on the other side, and the girls playing are clearly more talented than you: they both shoot it in the lone glass when their turn comes, hugging as they shriek in happiness from their victory.

“Let’s go,” Ria says, and she pulls you to one end of the table as soon as the girls have moved.

Yoongi and Seokjin take the other side, even though Seokjin truly does appear like he wishes he wasn’t here, and you put the cups back into their spot, reorganizing the table.

Your brother appears next to you before you start, and you offer him a tight-lipped smile.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks.

“Me?” you let out, your voice uncharacteristically high. “Nothing.”

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says through gritted teeth, the typical Kim temper flaring up.

You grab the neon orange ball Ria hands you, shrugging your shoulders. “I haven’t. Just been busy.”

He clenches his jaw, yet remains silent as you focus on the table, preparing for the first shot, the one that determines who between you and Ria or Yoongi and Seokjin will play first.

You’re against Yoongi, so you know you’ve already lost when you shoot. To your surprise, Yoongi misses, his ball bouncing off on the side of a cup. Yours flies way off the table, and you wince.

“That was trash,” Taehyung comments.

“Thanks,” you fire back.

Ria and Seokjin throw, and Ria surprisingly manages to get the shot. You clap your hands as she offers you a thumbs-up.

“Seriously though,” Taehyung asks, handing you the ball that Seokjin threw. “What’s wrong? Why did you move out?”

“Hold on,” you say.

You take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety of his questioning away, and you throw. The ball stays on the table this time, bouncing right next to one of the cups.

“Honestly it’s just so that I can spend time with Ria,” you answer, motioning to your friend. “She’s going through shit.”

Ria tenses next to you, offering you a quick glare before she focuses on shooting, unfortunately missing the cups.

“Oh,” Taehyung lets out. “I thought it was because of Ari.”

Speaking of Ari, you don’t see her anywhere near. You wonder where she went off to - are you lucky enough that she and Gabrielle left the party?

“Not at all,” you reply, and then you focus on the game as Seokjin and Yoongi prepare to throw. They both make it into a cup, and you clink your almost empty beer with Ria’s, taking a long sip before you move the cups to the side. “Ari’s super sweet.”

“She’ll be relieved when I tell her so,” Taehyung admits. “She was saying she could leave if it was an issue with you that she moves in with us.”

“It really isn’t,” you reassure Taehyung, feeling momentarily guilty for making Ariane feel like that. “I’ll probably come back eventually too.”

Taehyung’s eyes light up. “That’d be sick. We need to start doing Taco Tuesdays again.”

Taco Tuesdays. You’d forgotten all about them last semester - you’d spent every Tuesday last fall eating tacos with Taehyung, Jungkook joining once in a while. It was a tradition you’d had growing up with your mother too - when she wasn’t too busy working.

“I’m down,” you reply, and you get ready to throw.

To your surprise, you make the shot, landing it in the first cup at the front. Ria throws hers, and it bounces on the rim of one of the glasses before Seokjin catches it expertly.

“Is Jungkook coming tonight?” you ask.

Everything stills inside of you. You don’t even know why you asked - you didn’t even think about it before the question fell. But then again, you think it makes sense that Jungkook would invade your thoughts now.

When does he not?

Ria throws you a curious look at the question, though you don’t miss the disapproval in the furrow of her brows.

“JK?” Taehyung says, as if he wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so. He says he wants to focus on college this semester.”

You nod curtly, getting ready to defend your cups as Seokjin and Yoongi throw. To your luck, they both miss, and you let Ria shoot first as you focus on Taehyung again.

“Makes sense now that he has to work for his father’s company, no?” you say, trying to sound as if you don’t care.

As if Jungkook is not the center of your universe, still to this day.

“I guess so,” Taehyung comments, and you throw, entirely missing the table again.

Ria lands hers in a cup though, which leaves four cups in front of the boys and three in front of you and Ria.

“I still can’t believe the motherfucker is rich and he never told us,” Taehyung adds.

You get the feeling. You still think New York was a fever dream - even more so now that you’ve lost Jungkook. The thought makes your heart ache in your chest, and it trickles down your body, burning all along the way.

“It’s crazy,” you let out, and it sounds just as flat as you feel - like maybe your heart just flatlined in your chest.

Taehyung makes a non-committal sound, and you’re able to focus on the rest of the game without any interruption. You evidently end up losing to Seokjin and Yoongi, and you shake hands with the boys, congratulating them for their win, even though you’d all expected it.

“I’ll go get something to drink,” Taehyung says when you finally glance his way again. “Stay away from the punch.”

And then he leaves, and you mimic him as he walks away, raising your middle finger to his back. Ria snorts next to you, and you laugh along with her.

“He’s making me want to have some of the punch,” she says, and you laugh harder.

“Hard pass,” Seokjin says, and Ria stiffens next to you. “I tasted it, and it tastes like piss.”

“Wouldn’t even be surprised if someone pissed in it,” Yoongi says. “This party is…”

“Juvenile?” you provide.

Ria laughs, though it sounds a little forced. “It’s fun, stop.”

She sounds just as unconvinced as you think she seems, yet you all don’t mention it, which you reckon happens a lot around her lately.

“I think we’ll head out,” Yoongi says after a few seconds. “Want to have a beer back at my place?”

“And disturb the lovebirds?” Ria answers. “No thank you.”

Indeed, Namjoon and Nabi chose to stay in tonight, and you don’t have to use a lot of brain power to imagine what they might be doing right now, when they finally have full privacy in the apartment.

“Right,” Yoongi lets out. He winces, then shrugs his shoulders. “Guess we’re stuck here for a couple of hours, then.”

He says that in Seokjin’s direction, who runs a hand on his forehead before nodding. “Can we at least go outside?”

“Sure. You girls coming?” Yoongi asks, motioning to the backyard.

Ria doesn’t even wait for you to reply, instead tugging you towards the garden doors. You stop her, glancing over your shoulder. “I actually really have to pee, but I’ll join you guys outside?”

She narrows her gaze in suspicion, and you furrow your brows. She leans in, whispering, “Are you trying to leave me alone with Seokjin?”

You snort. “Not at all,” you reply, patting her hand on your arm. “I genuinely am just about to pee myself. You know how I am with beer.”

She fake-gags, and you playfully push her as she bursts out laughing. “Ayt, we’ll be outside.”

You wave them goodbye, and Seokjin awkwardly waves back before following Yoongi and Ria. You chuckle at the sight before heading to the bathroom, which you think is probably on the second floor.

So you make it towards the staircase you see in the corner, squeezing through the crowd and apologizing all the way, though most people are too drunk to even notice you. You successfully make it to the staircase, and you walk around the group of girls sitting on the steps, making it to the second floor unscathed.

“Bathroom?” a guy who clearly looks like he belongs to the frat asks you.

You almost startle at the unexpected question, though you recover quickly, nodding your head.

“Last door on the left,” he tells you. “I think someone’s in there right now though.”

“Should I not wait then?” you ask.

He chuckles. “From what I saw when I exited it was just one girl alone so, you should be good.”

“Thanks,” you answer, offering him a small smile, and he nods once before heading down the stairs, though he quickly realizes that it might be too big of a feat. He indeed just plops down on the stairs, striking up a conversation with the girls there.

They look like they know him, so you walk away, heading to the last door on the left. You lean against the wall outside, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

No notifications greet you, so you push it back into your pocket, right as the door unlocks, and then opens.

You freeze, just as much as she does. Both of your gazes widening, until she lets out a small, “Hello”, the word heavy with a French accent.

Of course, the girl in the bathroom had to be Gabrielle.

“Hi,” you reply, and you try to smile, though you’re not sure it works.

“You’re Taehyung’s sister, aren’t you?” she asks.

You nod curtly. “The one and only.”

She smiles. “Thought so.” There’s a pause as she doesn’t move from the doorway, and you just wait, awkwardness filling every inch of you.

Her next sentence throws you off the axis you’ve been spinning on for months now, and you just stare at her in disbelief.

“You’re not with Jungkook tonight?” she asks.

You feel hot and cold at the same time, your heart rate picking up uncomfortably in your chest. Your palms turn clammy, and you wouldn’t be surprised if sweat appeared on your temples.

“I’m sorry, what?”

She frowns. “I thought Ari said…” she trails off, and then she shrugs her shoulders. “Whatever.” She smiles gently. “I’m happy he’s got you now.”

You think your eyes are bulging out of your head. They have to - the conversation isn’t making any sense, and you aren’t drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol.

“What?”

Her frown reappears. “Aren’t you two dating now?”

You laugh. It’s a sad, pathetic laugh, and Gabrielle looks at you like you’re crazy.

“He cheated on me with you,” you say. “Why would I be dating him?”

The frown falls, replaced by utter surprise. Her mouth opens on a silent ‘Oh’, like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say. It takes her a few seconds to collect herself, and then she says, “Non mais putain qu’il est con.”

You don’t speak French, so all you can do is cock an eyebrow quizzically. And then she lets out a small disbelieving laugh, shaking her head.

“I told him to tell you,” she says, and she closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose. “But he’s really stupid sometimes.”

“I’m sorry?”

She offers you a small smile bordering on pity, and you brace yourself for what she’ll say next.

“Fille, I’m gay,” she says. “Jungkook was always only pretending to be my boyfriend so my family wouldn’t know. I didn’t know about you when I kissed him in Paris, and I only kissed him because Ari was growing suspicious.”

You think you’re frozen in place. Like, stared into Medusa’s eyes and turned to stone frozen in place. All you can do is stare at Gabrielle, unblinkingly, as her words spin round and round in your head, caught in a dizzying tornado you can’t follow.

“I told him to tell you,” she repeats, and she sounds far too apologetic for the erratic beating of your heart. For the realization that she just hit you with.

You think she hit harder than a physical slap would have.

“What?” you say, voice small and weak and oh so broken.

Months. You’ve been breaking for him for months… and for what? For a promise he refused to break, one that would have explained everything in a way that would have made you work.

You would have forgiven him, no hesitation. Hell, you reckon you would have told him you loved him, would have told him you wanted to be with him from now on until you turn to dust.

But he had to choose to respect a promise he made years ago, to an ex that wasn’t really an ex after all, was she?

Just a friend from high school.

She was, after all, just a friend from high school.

She nods. “Yeah. He told me all about you.” She smiles again, though this time it’s just sad, like she knows just how shattered you are over this man. “I was rooting for you two.”

“He didn’t tell me,” you whisper as if Gabrielle hadn’t already pieced that together. “Why?”

She sighs. “He’s stupid,” she says as an explanation. “He’s the kind that’ll sacrifice himself if it means helping someone else. I suppose you know that already.”

You nod, because you do.

He sacrificed himself for you last semester when you got home crying on Valentine’s Day. And he sacrificed countless parties over his promise to Taehyung to look after you.

And he sacrificed you to protect Gabrielle’s secret.

“Holy shit,” you let out.

“Talk to him,” she says softly. “Go talk to him now. I’m not letting him lose you over me.” She scoffs, the frown she’d sported earlier returning. “I should have realized before. That he didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

Your gaze widens, and you shake your head no. “Oh, no, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

It’s not your fault if he broke my heart.

It’s always just been his fault, hasn’t it?

But then again… you know now. You know that he never cheated on you, that he was right when he was saying that it wasn’t what you thought it was.

You know that he was there, with you. That he felt for you what you felt for him, that he was chasing cars around your head, too.

And if there’s a chance you can salvage that, repair two hearts in one stone, you know you have to do it.

“I have to talk to him.” You say the words with quiet conviction, and Gabrielle nods, offering you an encouraging smile. “Fuck.”

“Go to him, fille,” Gabrielle says. “And tell him he’s an enfoiré for me.”

You highly doubt you’d be able to repeat that word, yet you still say, “Will do.”

And then you take off, entirely forgetting that you had to pee. You have one goal in mind, and it’s to run home, where you know he has to be according to what Taehyung said. You don’t even stop to text him, to confirm that he really is.

No, you run down the stairs, through the crowd and outside. The front lawn isn’t as crowded as earlier, and you easily make it to the sidewalk, skidding to a halt just long enough to change direction.

And then you’re running home. Running home to him, your heart beating wildly. For the right reason this time. And as you run, lungs struggling to get enough oxygen in, thighs burning with heat, you feel infinite. You feel like you’re a star in the sky above, or maybe the moon returning to her lover. You feel like a bird soaring high, like a dolphin riding the waves.

You feel young and old and small and big, all at once. Like nothing is ever going to stop you again. You feel in love, you are in love, and after all the months of suffering, you reckon it’s the most beautiful feeling you’ve ever experienced.

You didn’t know you could sprint like you are right now, yet even though your body is straining, you’re not slowing down. You’ve pulled your phone out of your pocket to make sure it doesn’t fall as you run, yet you don’t slow down.

You can’t slow down anymore, not when your gravity finally aligned with his again.

Like it was always meant to be. Because it’s always been meant to be you and him, hasn’t it?

You make it home in a record time, climbing up the stairs… only to realize you don’t have your keys. They are back at the dorms, but it’s too late.

You try the door, and to your surprise, the doorknob turns, and you barge into your home, barge into this life with him.

You catch your breath as you stop in the hall, doubling over when you realize you’ve actually ran - sprinted - for nearly a mile. You’re lucky the frat house wasn’t further away - you highly doubt you would have made it home if it was any further.

“Y/n?” Jungkook says from his bedroom.

You straighten, trying to catch your breath. And the second your eyes land on him, you know it was all worth it.

Every single second of suffering was worth it to be here with him tonight.

“Jungkook,” you say in between two heaving breaths.

He’s shirtless, his honey skin just as warm as you remember it to be. He’s in fact only wearing grey joggers, and his hands are lost in his pockets like he’s trying to look nonchalant.

The concern on his features tells you he, as a matter of fact, isn’t as nonchalant as he’s trying to appear.

“Shit,” you let out. “Jungkook.”

“Yes?”

You laugh. You know you might look crazy, but you literally just ran a mile for this man, and each foot was worth it.

The grandest journey of your life, wasn’t it?

“She told me,” you say.

He cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“Gabrielle told me everything.” You surprise yourself by blinking away tears, and you let out a small laugh as you go to dry them.

Jungkook remains silent, just staring at you with horror slowly inching into his gaze. You don’t know how, or why, but it only occurs to you then that he might not be alone right now.

“Kook?” you whisper, unable to say it louder.

Not when you’re slowly crashing down from the high.

“Y/n, I…” he trails off. He closes his eyes, head hanging low. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

You gulp as you swallow. “Yeah, huh.”

You look down, noticing a pair of sneakers you’ve never seen before.

It takes all of the courage you can muster up to look back up when the door of the bathroom opens, revealing a dishevelled Lisa, in only a t-shirt you recognize all too well.

You’d used to sleep in that t-shirt, too.

Lisa sees you after you see her, turning beet red. She’s naked under Jungkook’s shirt, or at least you think she is.

You assume she is considering that he’s shirtless too.

“Oh,” you let out.

Choke out might be a more appropriate word. Because you’re crashing, and you’re crashing hard. Hitting the wall at 120 mph, splattering on it until there’s nothing left of you. Nothing left of that hope you’d found at the party, the hope Gabrielle had so kindly gifted you even though she owed you nothing.

Someone’s screaming. You think someone’s screaming - is it just in your head?

“Hey, Y/n,” Lisa says awkwardly. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“I live here,” you reply, voice empty of any emotion.

She purses her lips, nodding once, and then she hesitantly walks out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry I… I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

Neither did you. Neither did Jungkook - it would have saved everyone a whole lot of breaking if you’d known.

If you’d known that having hope for Jeon Jungkook was futile and useless.

How could you even think you were meant to be with him? There is no universe for you and him out there. Just different worlds of breaking. Because it’s all your soul knows how to do - all your soul knows is to break for him, to shatter and crash and fracture for the man standing in front of his opened bedroom door.

“No worries,” you say, though this time your voice does wobble.

This time, the pain does colour your tone in heartbreak blue.

Jungkook just remains silent, like he’s suddenly gone mute. You think it’s better like this - if he were to say anything right now, you think you’d likely break down here. Instead, you take a deep breath, pat your pockets and say, “I think I forgot my keys at the party.”

Unable to help yourself, you glance towards Jungkook once. He meets your gaze - he looks infinitely pained, the heartbreak stark on his features too. There’s some reassurance in knowing that he’s breaking, too. That you’re doing it together.

Heartbreak isn’t as lonely when you’re doing it together.

“How did you…” Lisa trails off, but she doesn’t finish.

She falls silent, clearly hearing the screaming in your head too.

You’re outside a second later, carefully closing the door behind you. Carefully severing the rest of your relationship with Jungkook, until all that is left is the memories.

You take a step back, looking at the door, thinking he might open, might come see you.

Thinking he might be your home after all.

But he doesn’t, the door staying stubbornly closed. You get the message - your souls were never meant to merge. The songs that you thought were about him, about you, about the two of you together, they were never about you. You were never meant to lie down and forget the world with him.

Or maybe you were, but it came with an expiration date.

You reckon you and Jungkook have always had an expiration date. You just forgot tonight, became blind to it thanks to false, treacherous hope. And so you leave, walking down the stairs as you blink away the tears that are clinging to your waterline.

You embrace the heartbreak, let it sweep through you until you think it’s all you’ve ever known. And like a true companion, the heartbreak carries your steps through the night.

Prev | Chapter 13.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

do I feel bad for the amount of angst I wrote into this story? Maybe a little. I promise one day things will get better for these two, but in the meantime, what did you guys think?

#chasing cars ch 13 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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unnatural-happenings · 3 months ago

Text

A Change of Fate

I've had an idea for a Persona fic and it's been sitting in my drafts forever. I have a ton written, but somehow not a single chapter is completed. I don’t know if I'm ever going to finish it, If I don't talk about it soon I swear I'm going to explode.

It's about a Player/Reader/OC(?) that gets transported to the world of Persona after meeting their end (normal isekai things yk). They wake up with no memories outside of some vague life they feel they didn't actually live. They end up at the arcade, run into Ryuji, have all memories but their finally moments come back to them and panic. Now they have to figure out how they want to go about existing in this world. Do they want to intervene in the plot or not? Do they even have the strength to?

Still not sold on making it an OC or a Reader Insert (drafts are a mix of both rn it's hell), but it's vague either way. I don't want to name or design the Player, I only do that when I'm drawing the more emotional scenes. For the most part they're merely a catalyst for my unhinged ideas and amusement.

If you want to hold out for the teensiest bit of hope that I finish the fic and post full length chapters, then stop here. There will be spoilers ahead in the form of a vague unhinged plot summary of its entirety (oops it's around 22k words).

If I do finish any scenes I find pretty good I may or may not post them separately. If I do I'll link it to my pinned.

(The rest of this is written in second person (you/your/yourself))

(ALSO a warning that comes with mild spoilers. By this ideas very nature this is—in way—a fix-it-fic, but the ending is still very bittersweet) (ALSO ALSO it has very minimal proofreading done. I tried but it is long. Though the AO3 version has more proofreading and is more up-to-date)

You wake up with no memories in a house by yourself, until you find papers saying you were accepted into Shujin Academy and start in a few days. Then you get vague memories of a normal life leading up to you deciding to study abroad at Shujin. Something about the whole thing seems off, but you shake it off and start to get ready to get the last supplies they need and to familiarize yourself with the area.

As you're walking around you keep getting hit with waves of nausea until you reach the arcade. Staring at the Jack Frost claw machine you nearly collapse, but someone catches you before you hit the floor. You thank him and end up talking and enjoying the arcade together for a while. At some point you mention you're going to Shujin and the guy seems pretty happy about it, but also warns them almost everyone there kinda sucks, teachers included. That's when you both realize you never introduced yourselves to each other so the guy goes first and—

He introduces himself as Sakamoto Ryuji.

Everything clicks after that and you remember that you are in fact, a player of Persona and you should not be here. You don't remember the events leading up to you waking up, but you remember the rest of your life and start having a panic attack. Ryuji—Sakamoto (they're real people now you can't just use their first name anymore) tries to help you through it, but when he does you look around and recognize all the buildings around you and panic even more.

You try to play off your panic as just being tired. You didn't realize how long they were out for and have to get back home! You make sure to tell Sakamoto you're happy you'll know someone when you start Shujin so he doesn't think you're running away from him then quickly, but cautiously, make your way back home.

You wake up the next day, realize not only are you in Persona, you're months before the arrival of Joker. You proceed to have a breakdown.

When you start Shujin you've sort of committed to not changing anything drastic in the plot, then Sakamoto steals you away at the first chance he gets. You can't bring yourself to deny him.

Of course hanging out with Sakamoto you eventually run into Takamaki Ann and Suzui Shiho, the track team (if you could kick them in the crotch you would), and unfortunately Kamoshida.

He warns you about hanging out with the likes of Sakamoto and tries to get you to join the volleyball team. You refuse as politely as possible and speed away from him.

You've been around for a couple months now learning to live on your own and start to wonder what your in-universe parents are like. You don't imagine it's anything good. Sure they're paying for the apartment and giving you a hefty allowance, but not once have they reached out to you. You don't know if they're expecting you to be the one to reach out either. As long as they don't bother you, you don't plan to bother them to find out.

All too soon the years change and you meet Yoshizawa for the first time. You never stopped to think about which version of the world you were in, and seeing Yoshizawa Sumire—currently Kasumi—makes you realize that Maruki is going to be an issue. It would be terrible for him to learn anything about you so you have to do your best not to stand out to the school when Joker arrives. Oh and he's arriving in a few days. Great.

You spend those few days trying to think of ways to subtly help and how what you might do could affect the future, but don't come up with anything in time.

When you walk to school and see Joker standing waiting for the rain to stop you don't know what to do. You're about to talk to him when a thought crops up in your head.

"Would you even be able to get a persona?"

You don't want to be a liability so you walk past him with your head down.

Or at least you tried to walk past him, but he ends up grabbing you. You're surprised and it looks like he's surprised himself that he did that and apologies. He struggles to put his thoughts together while you stand there awkwardly wanting to get away as soon as possible. He's giving you a look you don't know how to feel about. Then Takamaki shows up and basically saves you from that encounter.

Then Kamoshida drives up in his car.

You didn't want to get into an enclosed space with him, but you knew if you didn't join you'd end up walking with the boys and getting stuck in the palace (which is honestly worse). You also remember how Takamaki looked during the cut scene and couldn't stand to leave her alone with him, so you got in the car.

Waiting for the boys to get back from their kidnapping is agonizing. When Sakamoto finally arrives after lunch and you ask hum if he's okay he kinda avoids the question. Which is about what you were expecting.

After the final bell rings Sakamoto tells you to he has something to do and runs off without you. That's fine since you know what he's gone off to do and make your way out, accidentally bumping into someone in the hall. You hear the murmurs of the student body around you and glasses hitting the floor before you lay your eyes on who it is. Of course it's Joker.

He introduces himself to you. Amamiya Ren. At least now you know which name he goes by, but this is still not ideal! He's also still got that strange curiosity in his eyes when he's looking at you. It's intense. You don't like it, so you quickly make an excuse and leave. He has to talk to Sakamoto anyway.

You're watching the events of the game take place from the sidelines, wanting to help but to scared you'd change things for the worse. It's when Suzui falls from the roof the guilt sets in and starts to eat you alive. You make your way up to the roof to stew in it and cry when you hear the door slam open and Sakamoto shouting.

You forgot they resolved to take Kamoshida down with the Metaverse today. You're also surprised you can already understand Morgana.

Yet again you're put into the position to make a choice and let yourself be known to them. You're actually about to when you look over the edge of the roof. That's when the last bit of fog on your previous life's memories clear up.

You were pushed off of the roof. It was an accident, a sore loser who couldn't get over his own ego pushed your friend, accusing her of cheating in a tournament. She lost her balance and ended up crashing into you, making you tumble off the side. Everyone that was there tried to reach for you, including the egoist, but none of them were fast enough. You distinctly remember the feeling of your head caving in before everything went dark. It was dark for a while, before you woke up in that apartment.

Your vision blurs as you start hyperventilating. You scramble away from the edge of the roof and run all the way to the station, wanting nothing but to go home.

The next couple days you try to avoid every canon character, which isn't that hard since they're focusing on Kamoshida's palace. Unfortunately the man himself notices you're on your own and tries to harass you. It's both fantastic and horrifying when the thieves start showing up again and hanging around you until you get on the train. Something must've happened in his palace regarding you. If none of them can keep an eye on you before they enter then they always ask you to go to the store for them. If you didn't know what was going on you'd have a lot more questions, but you're content to do their shopping for them.

After they change his heart they strong arm you into hanging out with them as a group. It's not at the buffet so you guess they already ate there and solidified themselves as the Phantom Thieves.

You feel you're going to go insane waiting for them to find Madarame. Important people keep bumping into you and it's stressing you out. Amamiya keeps trying to get you to talk or hangout or something so you keep having to make excuses, Kitagawa asked to sketch you 'cause apparently your solemn look down at your coffee sitting alone at a cafe was the perfect scene for him, you keep getting asked if you want to study for midterms, and you literally bump into Akechi. It's the most shame and terrified you've felt in this world. You want the plot to start happening so you can get a minute to breathe.

Finally after exams are over they start Madarame and you expect your interactions with the main cast to go down. How wrong you were.

The thieves still ask you to buy items for them occasionally, though now Amamiya seems to use it as a way to talk to you. Sometimes someone will message you asking to buy something ASAP and bring it to the passage before bolting. You think they're using you to get items during a palace run so they can stay in longer, but you're not asking. Then Takamaki practically begs you to join her for a modelling gig.

You assumed she was talking about her actual job. Maybe she picked up a more free gig and she was allowed to pick someone to join her? Suzui still wasn't able so her next choice was you. You have trouble saying no to these people so of course you agreed to join her.

You're petrified when you end up standing in front of a shack and not a studio.

One thing happens after the next and you're on the verge of a breakdown inside the palace. You can't pay attention to anything. The only thing you notice is Kitagawa getting his persona so you move out of the way on autopilot. Before you all exit the thieves try to ask if you're okay, but you wave them off and ask to leave. As soon as you do you head home.

When you get inside and after a bit of hesitation, you call your supposed mother and learn she's really weird. She does what she asks of you though and now you're home bound for some terrible "illness." She somehow got the school to agree to send your work over while you're "recovering."

It's Niijima Makoto the school sends to hand over your work. They also give her your number. You message her to tell her she doesn't have to physically give you the work, that it's excessive and sending it through an email would've been fine for the school, but she doesn't relent. You have her drop your work off in front of your door and watch you pick it up from a distance, cursing the principal out in your mind all the while.

You receive an endless amount of messages from the thieves, but you ignore them all. They never stop as the week passes, but the contents change.

One day Niijima shows up at your door with Sakamoto in tow and he basically bullies his way into your apartment. They help you air out the place and try to cheer you up. Niijima takes the work you finished and organizes what you didn't while Sakamoto gives you a ton of games to borrow and asks you to play at least one of them to completion. None of this makes you feel any better.

A few days later you're sent a calling card.

??What the fuck??

You don't know why you were sent one or how it would even feel to get your heart changed. To be frank you don't WANT to know! You're fine! They're ignoring your messages now so you guess they've already jumped in. But to where? Mementos? A palace?? Was whatever they think is wrong with you strong enough to make a palace???

If you think about it any longer you feel you'll go insane, so you try to get some sleep, hoping you can skip whatever process happens during a change of heart. You barely get any when your phone lights up. Hoping it's a message from a thief you open your eyes only to be greeted to a black and red swirling eye.

You throw your phone across the room, turn to face the other wall and go to sleep.

Much later, you wake up to someone banging on your door. Just to get them to shut up you open the door and end up nearly knocking Sakamoto out. They came over immediately after they left and they're almost frantic as they explain the situation.

Yes, you had a palace—still have a palace. They didn’t change your heart. Not because they couldn't, but because it apparently wasn't a good idea. After the fight they got to talk to your shadow and they seemed to be much better than before.

You're able to piece together that they basically handled your palace like a jail in Strikers/Scramble. Now that the scare is over you realize you feel more… put together. This is the most at peace you've felt with your place here since meeting Sakamoto.

But beyond that you have no idea what they exactly talked about that made taking your treasure a bad idea. They don't explain, and you don't ask. You're too afraid of what they might've seen inside of it and you're sure stress radiates off you in waves, but they never push it. What they end up doing is reiterating multiple times that they're your friends and can and will help you through whatever you need.

You go back to school. Madarame apologizes and the student body clowns on him. The Social Studies trip happens but you don't go. You still somehow run into Akechi again and now he wants to use you as his rumour mill. Like always you have a hard time saying no to these people when you probably should.

A few days past with Amamiya insisting that he hangout with you. Sometimes the others join, but it's mostly just you and him. The last time you were together he left just a little agitated. When you asked he only said it wasn't anything you did, which obviously didn't answer the question. There's no time to ponder though when Niijima blackmails the group the next day.

They're scrambling to find any information, but refuse to go to you for any help. They don't even let you walk around Shibuya, blaming it on you needing more time to recover from your illness. They know you weren't actually ill they just suck at excuses. It makes sense since it's the mafia, but you’re itching to do something to keep them from getting blackmailed again.

Of course between your inability to come up with a plan to save your life and constant hesitation, Niijima ends up running into the lion's den and getting them all in trouble. They basically come to you after they've already gone into the palace with their tails between their legs. For a variety of reasons, including their stupidity (and cause of the location),the hideout changes to your apartment.

The first couple days is the same routine as before. They jump in and have you get items for them, but since you know you're able to bring them more things they could use. They don't make much progress in the palace despite this though to your confusion and their ire.

One day they don't show up at your apartment anywhere near the time they should be back. They haven't asked you for items either, so unless Amamiya brought a crapton with him it starts to feel like something's gone wrong. Your nerves get shot and after almost an hour of nothing when you remember you have the Metaverse app on your phone. Fearing more for them over yourself you input Kaneshiro's palace keys and go in.

After hyping yourself up, you force one of the ATM people to carry you to the floating bank. When it gets there you bolt out of its arms and through the secret passage into the building and immediately hear the sounds of a fight going on.

It doesn't take you long to find the source of it, and as you peak around the corner to see you find the Phantom Thieves fighting a bird. A really, really fast bird. They can barely land a hit on the thing, and when they finally do it barely does anything. The bird keeps moving around like it wasn't just stabbed, electrocuted, and burned all at once.

Morgana is also knocked out cold on the floor, his bandanna and fur singed at the edges. The rest of the thieves are extremely tired and must be running low on SP.

This bird shouldn't be here, hell it doesn't even look like a normal shadow! Despite knowing this is not a regular encounter in this palace it feels familiar somehow. Once you remember why it takes everything in your power not to groan.

Unfortunately not only were you a Persona player, you were a Persona player that modded the game.

Specifically, you modded it to make it harder. Much harder.

You are now seeing the consequences of your actions, but it's not like you thought you'd be forced to fight this dogshit in real life! How were you supposed to know your methods of self torture would follow you to merge with this worlds Metaverse and create nothing but problems. If you'd known you would've saved yourself the trouble. Unfortunately you can't go back in time to slap yourself in the face for thinking of downloading all of that garbage. You just have to deal with it, but you have no clue how.

It's obvious they were not prepared for a fight like this and you can't blame them, but you can't jump into the fight to give them advice. You don't have a persona, effectively making you a sitting target. A liability. You didn't bring any items to help you for this either. You can't help them, but they also can't afford to fall here.

You back away to root through any antiques or statues laying around, hoping to find anything, but instead get ambushed by a group of shadows. They knock you into a corner and radio in Kaneshiro. You think you're done for.

It's when you hear the thieves cry out at another member falling that your resolve strengths.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

"It appears this flickering lamp wants to shine as bright as the stars in the sky, but still allows darkness to cover their truest desires.

Is this still a game to you? Do their deaths not matter? Should they fall, are you expecting time to reset for many second chances?"

"Of course not. They aren't characters on a screen anymore. They're living people trying to change the world for the better, and I want— I need to help them! They can't die here!"

"Then stand and free yourself of your demons!

I am thou… thou art I…

I lend you my light to fight for what is right!"

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

It blasts all the nearby shadows away, leaving you standing. Not taking any time to marvel at your new power, you leap past them to save the thieves from the bird.

After reviving Morgana and Ryuji, you help guide the Thieves on how to take down the enemy. As soon as you do you're all rushing out of the palace in the Monacar and getting to your apartment as fast as possible.

When everyone recovers, They're all grilling you for answers, wondering when you got the app on your phone, how you knew what Kaneshiro’s keywords were, how you knew what to do in that fight etc. You reply with lies and excuses, which they catch you on every time. Eventually you run out and you gotta spill.

You tell them about the game (not about your original reality though), and you're surprised when they almost instantly believe you. They say it's because the way your palace worked and the talk they had with your shadow at the end.

Now that you've finally confirmed that for them they start to speculate where it could’ve come from. Yet again you're shocked they're worried more about the game then about you. They're honestly appalled and saddened you would even think that, so they reinforce you're their friend first and the knowledge you have of future events is now a really cool helpful bonus. None of them leave until you promise to use their first names from now on and confirming you're joining the team.

Amamiya—Ren stays behind for a bit longer to learn about his protagonist status. In turn he tells you he's been trying to get your confidant leveled since he learned about it (but really since he first laid eyes on you). You blame his fixation on being a protagonist to a player. He tells you he doesn't give a shit.

By the end he's relieved and explains your confidant kept locking itself, but now it's free of chains. He threatens you with the promise of him taking up multiple of your free days before leaving.

When everyone meets up again you get your code name Bug. Like a bug in a video game, you're a bug in their fate. You would’ve denied it if Ann hadn't called it cute. Ryuji called you weak for that, then was promptly hit.

On your first actual outing as a Phantom Thief you can see how bad your modding habits have affected the Metaverse. None of the bosses have become harder then they originally should be, but more shadows then you're expecting are from your mods. You highly doubt it'll stay this way moving forward.

Now that you're helping Kaneshiro’s palace is a little easier, but it's still confusing as to why modded shadows are even here. Morgana blames it on your preconceived perception being stronger than most because of the game. Basically the palace gets warped by both you and the ruler. You really wish you could call bull, but spot another bird in the distance and cry.

During down time you head into mementos by yourself to talk to Jose. You needed to know if he could tell you were from another world, and if he did to be quite about it before the rest came down for requests. You're having a nice conversation with him when fighting is heard in the distance. Peaking around the corner you find the Black Mask fighting off more of your modded shadows. He's not doing to good, and the shadows aren't making it easy to escape.

You're conflicted one whether you should help him or not. You know you should, but he's still very much Shido's lap dog rn.

Then a voice pops in your head asking if your efforts start and end with the Phantom Thieves. Of course not, so you promise yourself to save everyone you possibly can and you get your second persona.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

"It appears your meddling has cause problems for more than your own.

Then end you seek goes against the will of the world, continuing down this path shall will bring great struggle and hardship.

Do you still plan to defy the gods of this world, knowing all will be against you?"

"I don't care. In this world, I'll make sure—"

Your chest burns as you gaze upon the fight happening before you. It feels like daggers are stabbing into every inch of your skin, twisting, but you stand tall. Not once taking your eyes off of what you now perceive as your ultimate goal.

"—I'll make sure no one has to die!"

"Then it would seem you have finally clipped all threads tying you to fate. I shall lend you my strength to brave this future head on!

I am thou… Thou art I…

Carve out a path of your own and show fate its place!"

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

You don't allow yourself a moment to ponder the implications of getting a second persona before you're jumping into the fray to help Akechi.

After a long fight and subsequently long interrogation with a sword at your neck, you manage to convince him that you want to help. Also to wait to doubt the validity of your future knowledge by telling him about Shido's plans with Medjed. He nearly slit your throat for that alone though…

Going back to the thieves you don't say shit and you all take down Kaneshiro. Afterwards it's a barrage of studying and being dragged to hangout left and right before Akechi runs into all of you in the subway. He points out your group is sus as fuck and you can tell he expects to meet up with you later.

Meeting up in Mementos again he says he believes you and is willing to work with you to change the future cause fuck fate. Especially if it means he lives to see the fall of Shido. He also has a few choice words he wants to say to the gods you described… with his sword.

You both agree to plan in the background before revealing him or your full hand to the rest of the thieves. You try to at least get Ren in on it too, but Akechi can barely handle your sudden team up. He's not immediately jumping for joy at the thought of anyone else.

Alibaba shenanigans happen. The thieves try to pry who they are out of you, but you feel it's easier if they figure it out themselves. You don't know what would change if you told them and just went in. It's not worth the risk of Futaba not overcoming her perception herself or gaining her persona.

One break-in later you're in her palace and… It sucks.

Most of the palace has changed to reflect the many mods you injected into the game. Makoto thinks it's because her palace is so disconnected from everything else, your presence effects it more. All to say most of the shadows in here are beyond irritating. When you were playing the game, it was annoying and bullshit sure, but now actually having to fight these things has put the fear of God into you.

Every fight is life or death more than before. If a shadow can hit a weakness they will, if it has an insta-kill you better bet it's going to land it at least once, if it can inflict an ailment it just so happens it will use the more BS modded version. Burn will bring someone to the brink of death, despair saps every ounce of energy someone has left, rage is now a worse brainwash, and a ton of new ailments you wish you could remember from the mod. Of course they can access moves that shouldn't exist too.

The bosses are a whole different nightmare themselves.

Slow as you all were, you were able to make through a majority of the palace. Only to get stopped by a boss only weak to bless. You're able to get around it for now, but you need to go that way eventually. Ren doesn't have anything of value and you're no help in this case. To not risk all of your lives in this shithole he chooses to grind in Mementos to fuse a decent bless persona.

You know it won't be enough though, so you rush to inform Akechi that he might be needed earlier than planned. He asks why so you tell him how everything's gone and he blames you. After staging a meetup in Mementos Akechi joins the team as Crow to everyone's disappointment, besides you and Ren.

When you fight the boss again it's still a struggle, but Akechi makes it so much more bearable.

The palace crawling goes a little smoother than before with the extra member, but it still takes a few days to get to the end. During this time you and Akechi are desperately trying to rework your plans. You also ask him how he's holding up going through Futaba’s palace, but he brushes you off redirecting you to how she would feel with him here. You feel awful and resolve to tell her when she wakes up.

The Wakaba fight happens as normal, but this time with you and Akechi included. He hates seeing her again and Ren takes notice.

When summer break officially starts for everyone Ren basically kidnaps you and Akechi. He gets you to explain yourselves and becomes the next to be in on the planning. He asks when you and Akechi planned to tell everyone else and you don't have an answer, which disappoints him. He agrees to help with initial planning to avoid all the drama that happens during and after the Hawaii trip, but only if you tell everyone afterwards.

After that you're playing the waiting game.

You hangout with the thieves, explore Mementos with Akechi and Ren, more planning + stress over the Hawaii trip after remembering the principal dies, Ren informing you over the unique state of your soul— wait what?

Apparently soon after your Mementos trip, Igor informed Ren that your soul is beyond what he’s seen before. You're not a wild card, so you can't get personas on your own, but you can still wield multiple. Then when Ren asked how you could get more, he called you a leech. Someone capable of stealing personas, no matter how strong, and keep them forever. No matter how hard he tried to get it back, he wouldn't be able to without killing you. Fusing a new one would also be impossible if you were to ever obtain one, so he told Ren to be weary around you. Maybe break the team up altogether. Hell, that Akechi guy is also suuuper sketchy and untrustworthy so he totally shouldn’t be working with either of you at all.

Akechi had nothing to say about the obvious try at manipulation, while you went of on a rant about "Igor" calling you a leech.

One more Mementos trip and figuring out what the faker meant by "leech" you gain your third persona!

Around this time you also remember your palace still might exist. Out of pure curiosity you enter and find it's nothing like the thieves described. At least not anymore. Some time between now and your sudo change of heart it's shifted from a normal palace to something more akin to the thieves den. There's rooms where your personas reside in (you count six with no room for more) and what looks like a war table in the middle.

During one of your Mementos runs a door also appears for you, leading you straight into your palace. This instantly gives you an idea you can't wait to tell the planning committee.

It has to wait though because Futaba wakes up and puts a stop to the fake Medjed. The thieves then switch gears and put their efforts into making her more comfortable with all of you. Things proceed as normal, besides her outing you being a seer immediately. You correct her ("I wish. I just played a game where all of you were the characters" "Oh… What??") and move onto the beach episode.

Later on Futaba comes up to you and asks if you know what happened to her mother.

It's a very intense, emotionally driven conversation. You're trying desperately to explain why you had to bring Akechi in did you really though? and vaguely explain his side while Futaba is rightfully pissed off. She feels gross knowing her mothers killer was in her head.

She tells you to leave her alone and you do, now wondering if you're going about this the wrong way.

You spend the next day trying to finalize your plan with Ren and Akechi, while also trying not to let the guilt eat you from the inside out. It's also agonizingly difficult to focus when a major part of the problem is sitting next to you.

Akechi ends up pulling you to the side after one to many caught glances had his irritation bubble over. He doesn't take you brushing off the problem lightly with it impeding on the planning, so you spill and tell him what happened with Futaba.

He doesn't have much to say about this situation, not much positive anyway. Though he does say you’re the only one that can tell them what's happening, so you have to get your shit together. You fucked up, but you need to focus now so people will stop dying through the Metaverse.

The meeting concludes with no solutions made again.

There's still time before you have to call it a day, so you make cookies to act as a peace offering gift for Futaba. You knock on her door hoping she responds so you can apologize for the gross negligence of her feelings. When she doesn't respond you leave a note and homemade cookies before going home.

The next meeting you're able to stay on track and able to come up with a plan. You can't deal with Okumura, at least not yet. If you were to change his heart, Akechi will be forced to either kill him or go into hiding. Letting him die isn't an option, but going into hiding is too risky. Though you can't leave him alone either. Shido wanted him dead to begin with, if it doesn't look like the Phantom Thieves are interested in looking into him at all there's a chance he might send Akechi to kill him anyway. It's easy to forge a calling card, that's what they do with the principal after all.

So during the Hawaii school trip, Akechi will take Morgana (for the support. He says he doesn't need it but you insist) and try to recruit Haru to your cause. While he's doing that you're also waiting for the poll to pop up and fester for a little. Once it has, the idea is to make a big show of it being fraudulent and how all this evidence popping up against him is too sudden. At the end making sure to note that you will be looking into this yourselves later. Hopefully by the time everyone else comes back you'll have a new member and be ready to move onto phase two.

To change Sugimura's heart.

Haru still needs to be saved before October 11th, and the Phantom Thieves still need a public target. This kills two birds with one stone. Then on the same day you plan to send the calling card to change his heart, you'll also kidnap Okumura.

You're not actually going to do that, but the plan does involve making the public think he's gone missing. Both Ren and Akechi (and you tbh) can't believe this is what your plan devolves into, but the best way to make sure he stays alive is to keep him in somewhere safe where no one can find him. Somewhere you can easily bring him where not even he will know you're involved.

The Metaverse is the easiest solution. While Mementos isn't an option, your palace will keep him out of danger. It'd be easy to have Akechi go up, trick Okumura into the Metaverse (possibly with the help of Haru if she agrees to join), and convince him to agree to hide away for a while. Then Akechi brings him to your palace. Your personas will also make sure he won't even remember his time there.

His sudden disappearance should also cause the public's uproar a little more and Shido to question what's going on. Hopefully he's more focused on finding you guys than killing Okumura.

Safe to say you're not particularly proud of this plan, but none of you have come up with anything else and Hawaii is around the corner so this will have to do.

You're plan wavers into jot notes and vague ideas after this. Plans usually never stay on course so you have to revisit what to do when everyone's on the same boat. You have 45 days after the 11th before Shido's palace is initially supposed to start. Removing days you'll be focused on something else, that only leaves about 34 days for you to figure out something attention grabbing and follow through.

Before you can get there you still have to do the first part of your plan, and unfortunately the first part of the plan requires Futaba. She's the only one that can hack the Phansite to leave the initial message. Your positive Futaba's still mad at you and there's no way in hell she even wants to be in the same room as Akechi. That leaves Ren to try and get her on board so he leaves to go talk to her.

When he comes back he arrives with Futaba in tow. You tense when she comes over to you, but are surprised when she clings to your clothing.

"I'm still mad at you, but if you promise not to hide anything like that from me or anyone again I'll forgive you."

You give her your word and tell her you'll inform everyone once you get back from the trip to Hawaii.

She ignores the massive elephant in the room for a while longer before turning to Akechi. She starts by saying she'll never forgive him, but wants to hear why he did it though his own mouth.

He evades answering the question in any satisfying way until you heavily gesture that he should be a little honest. Once he provides the bare minimum he walks out and Ren goes after him, leaving you with Futaba. You accidental sigh out wondering if you're doing anything right. Futaba tells you you're trying to save a murderer with a tragic backstory, a rich guy that exploits the working class until they die, and are sad over not being able to help your pushover, sad excuse of a principal that happily endorses the man behind the slaughter. There's not many ways you can do any of that "correctly."

You thank her and she just reminds you that you have to tell her all about the game. When you try to say that wasn't what you promised she just turns around, pretends to not listen and threatens to rescind her forgiveness.

Ren comes back without Akechi. He informs the both of you he had to head back home, but he plans to follow through on his end of the plan. So you tell Futaba what she's going to be doing and head home yourself.

Now you're nervous about how you're plan's going to go. You hope well, but you highly doubt that after you let the rest of the thieves know Akechi is the Black Mask. Then you think about how you'd be telling them after he just killed someone and realize you should tell them a lot sooner.

School starts, you meet with everyone individually to explain what's going on. With Morgana, Ann and Yusuke it goes surprisingly better than you were expecting (though you suspect Morgana is only saving it to pester Ren about it later). Though it goes as expected with Ryuji and Makoto. They both already hated the guy so this was only adding fuel to the fire. You're hoping a talk with Ren will help Ryuji get his thoughts in order before he ends up lashing out at Akechi.

The Hawaii trip starts and the first part of the plan begins.

Futaba’s able to take down the poll on the Phansite and as suspected the public lashes out. Ren makes sure to inform Mishima not to put it back up. Morgana's and Akechi's side goes through a few hiccups, but in the end Haru agrees to join and Morgana helps her get her persona. Akechi had to leave at that point to get the principal on Shido's orders then lay low.

No one was able to enjoy the trip to Hawaii.

You all get back to Japan and things still do not go smoothly in the slightest. The meeting to explain who their next target is and why is… rough to say the least. Makoto is being more antagonistic than you hoped for, Futaba is giving him a wide berth and still doesn't really talk to you (though both were to be expected), Ryuji is calmer than you thought he would be but still aggressive, and Morgana clearly makes his disappointment known. Ann, Yusuke, and Haru are the only ones able to get through it without unworkable levels of aggression.

Ann is one of the kindest people you've ever met and willing to give him a chance (even if it's just 'cause you and Ren like him), Haru knew from the start this time around, and Yusuke can see where Akechi came from even if he doesn't understand how it got that extreme.

Everyone is emotionally exhausted by the end of the meeting, but you're able to explain what's going on to everyone else. The others are a bit upset to learn of this. They're disappointed you went off and planned on your own (and with Akechi which is super dangerous btw what were you thinking—) and force you to promise again to tell your teammates when something is happening. One by one. It's embarrassing but you do it.

Once that's done the hideout changes to your thieves den and you start Sugimura’s palace. It's… better and worse than you were expecting.

In terms of difficulty it's surprisingly not complete bullshit. You were expecting everything to be harder after the hell Futaba’s palace put you through, but it's a fair mix of "harder by Persona 5 standards" and "harder by your dogshit modded standards."

In terms of palace contents… it's more subtle than Kamoshida's, but still painfully obvious what's happening. You all want out of this palace as soon as possible. You're happy the war table in your thieves den is seeing some use though!

The treasure is located at the very top of this skyscraper of a palace. Futaba blames the height on his ego. When you all notice the treasure room shift occasionally to a bedroom, you secure your route and leave immediately.

The next day your plan is sent into motion. Morgana leaves to deliver the calling card to Sugimura, Akechi and Haru are sent to get Okumura, and Makoto and Futaba have to make sure there's no evidence left from either. The rest of you wait until Morgana comes back with word to enter Sugimura’s palace.

While you're waiting Ren gives you another persona that cost him nearly all the yen on his person. You would've scolded him right then and there, but you were much too focused on your new addition.

Once everyone shows up, they check on you to make sure there's no side effects of him being in your palace and your personas give you the okay. Everyone is still iffy on this plan, but Haru assures everyone that she'd rather they do this then have him found dead somewhere.

After one last once over everyone heads over to steal the treasure and encounter Sugimura's shadow. He's almost as gimmicky as Okumura’s and it annoys the fuck out of everyone, but you all get through it relatively fine.

While waiting for Sugimura's heart to change you all enter a period of limbo. You and Akechi want to plan ahead, but everyone else tells you to relax for a second. You've been stressed and need to take a minute before you explode. They also bring up that Sugimura hasn't even apologized yet so the waiting game begins again. During this time Haru tries to keep the business afloat as best she can before you can help with her father, Ren accidentally enters Maruki's palace with Yoshizawa, Akechi's keeping tabs on Shido, and you all enter Mementos a couple times when everyone's free to train and let off steam.

The celebration is still held at Destinyland. The trip is a little stained with stress, but you try to enjoy yourself anyway before you have to think about the future. You have more fun then you thought you would running around an amusement park just for yourselves. Akechi can't join since he has to play to Shido's whims and act like he's still looking, so you and Ren take a bunch of pictures and buy him souvenirs. At the end of the day you're all sitting around eating when Haru gets notified about a live stream and your blood runs cold.

For a brief moment you think you've failed at saving someone again, but your personas chime in and say Okumura’s still in your palace, and there was no way for Shido to know about Sugimura. It still does little to calm your nerves.

When Haru tunes in it appears to be a news live stream talking about Sugimura’s apology statement. He made what you could only assume was this worlds equivalent to a twitlonger. Explaining what he did and why he was so sorry and that he'd be stepping down to better himself. While there was no death on live TV this time around (thank god), this is still a little disappointing with no promise of jail time.

Ann and Yusuke note that this whole thing felt hollow. You all took down someone obviously deserving, but it feels like you didn't do anything. Makoto marks that on top of Sugimura not showing himself for his apology, it's probably because of the public's reaction.

They seemed.. split at best of this turn of events. A majority are unsatisfied to a certain extent. A lot of people where happy when they heard of everything Sugimura was doing, but a lot of people were still upset. No one knew who Sugimura even was (he's in politics so really that's their own fault but whatever), so the apology feels hollow. Yes you changed the heart of a scumbag, but how did you even find this guy? How'd you end up investigating him when the entirety of the internet was rallying behind Okumura?

Technically, this is still good for you. The Phantom Thieves just need to get their name out there—it doesn't necessarily have to be all positive, but it still leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Some of the others are more infuriated with the public perception as well.

Despite all your efforts, the night at Destinyland still ends on a sour note.

The next day during a meeting between you all (still minus Akechi), Okumura’s disappearance finally breaks out on the news.

This makes the public unrest even more palpable. A more than insignificant amount of people blaming the Phantom Thieves for not going after him first and letting him get away. Some people note that if the Phantom Thieves could find Kaneshiro, then surely you guys could find Okumura too! Some are also going so far as to suggest you kidnapped him, which isn't that far, but he agreed to be protected in the first place and it's wild they came up with that at all.

It makes every thief antsy and hard to keep their stress at bay. A new target—or at least something else eye-catching obviously has to be found soon. No one has any ideas though, not even you. Ann suspects the public won't be happy with whatever you do anyway. If it's not finding and changing Okumura’s heart they won't care.

Then Makoto reminds everyone that you all have to lay low for a while and act like normal students. Tensions are too high to do anything rash, and you have midterms to study for anyway. Disappointed and anxious, everyone splits off.

The next few days is a barrage of studying with your friends exams. You try your best to keep your mind off of everything and all of them are really good at acting like clowns or actually helping you study.

Coming into Shujin the day after you overhear some kids talking about the police. You… completely forgot about the investigation, so you quickly inform everyone over the group chat. Ryuji bashes you slightly for forgetting. Then Akechi is brought up and why he didn't say anything and hasn't said anything for a while now. He finally comes on, types out "I'm busy" and promptly leaves again. After Makoto remarks that everyone should be careful with what they say everyone shuts their phones off.

You're stressed during your interrogation, but they don't ask you much questions so you think you got through it fine. All they really did was ask easy yes or no questions you already knew not to lie about.

After school everyone meets at your place to discuss the interrogation, then move onto the investigation. They ask you if you remember what's going on, but before you can say anything Akechi appears out of thin air. When everyone shouts in surprise he's taking out the battery in his phone and tells everyone else to do the same.

He arrived at your apartment through the Metaverse 'cause he needed to be absolutely sure no one was tailing him. After they do that he finally divulges as to why he's been absent for so long.

He was busy dealing with everything at the precinct and trying to understand the sudden cold shoulder he's receiving from Shido.

Shido's still holding meetings with him, but all of them haven't been for anything important. No exchange of information, no targets—he's not even venting anymore, Shido's giving him nothing. It's all just to waste time, so Akechi can only assume Shido's become suspicious of him and trying to fish for evidence. A change in behaviour, connections he might have made, anything. All the extra work that's been piled on top of him is also probably to increase his stress and chances of tripping up.

To add onto the horrendous news he just dropped on you, he also informs everyone that Sae Niijima is on the brink of falsifying a case on the Phantom Thieves.

They ask how they managed to deal with all this in the game, and you tell them Ren just told her everything that happened and she joined their efforts. Before they get too happy about it though, you do note that Ren was locked in an interrogation room deep underground, beaten, and drugged. This was also after she received a calling card, so who knows if she'll listen as willingly as she did then.

"The police did WHAT!?"

"Long story worth over 100 hours of game play— look it's probably not going to happen so can we move on?"

"You can't just say that and expect us to get over it!"

Pushing aside the horrifying reality how far the police brutality and corruption goes, you can't talk to Sae Niijima without something more concrete to get her on your side. Since their ticket to taking it even a little easier is off the table, you all still have to lay low for a while. Makoto enlists all the second years to help in the festival executive committee to meet without suspicion.

Planning for the festival is as boring as you thought it was, and unfortunately the student body still want to see Akechi as their celebrity guest. He outright refuses to step anywhere near Shujin unless it's for an investigation, so you have to lie to the student body and get someone else "oh, we apologize, but we couldn't get Akechi. He's currently very busy working on the Phantom Thieves case and can't spare any time to stop by. So sad… anyway—"

The Cultural Festival is still a moderately fun time despite the impending doom it feels like your group is currently facing. Spending time with everyone takes your mind off of it at least for a little while.

The next day you wake up and remember the thieves are supposed to get slapped with a large bounty and hurry to watch the news. You played it the entire morning and even on the way to school, but no announcement of a bounty ever came. The Phantom Thieves still become wanted, but the police only ask for any information

It puts you on edge enough to inform everyone about the change. While they're glad there's no bounty on their heads, it's still concerning, and gives more credence into Shido putting his efforts into investigating Akechi. He is Shido's best asset, so having even an inkling that Akechi might have turned means a tighter leash on him and less opportunities for him to help you guys.

Not wanting to sit around and wait for Akechi to plan your next steps (he'd call you all morons if you ever did that anyway), Ren decides to at least scope out Maruki's palace to see if they could possibly deal with that earlier.

When you get in everything seems normal, but when you try and go beyond the entrance you all end up back outside. Going back in and trying another door yields the same results. Hearing laughing in the distance only makes the Thieves want to figure out what's going on more, so after Futaba checks the surrounding she says to try the front door twice. You walk in, turn around, and walk right through the door you just came in and somehow it leads you to… an empty hallway. Granted it is a different room, but it's still not really progress.

Everyone is already fed up with this palace when going back through the door again doesn't lead you back to the entrance, but into another hallway with more doors.

You are so lost at this point since none of this should even be happening at all. Yusuke wonders if this is some form of punishment for trying to do this "earlier" than intended, and Morgana thinks it might be some sort of defense mechanism.

Low and behold Morgana ends up being correct! Azathoth comes around claiming the cat is right and that he is protecting the palace in his rulers place. He laughs everyone for thinking he'd let them get anywhere, ignores any attempts made to fish for answers, and leaves.

Ryuji opens one of the doors in frustration and nearly gets punched in the face by a shadow.

You all spend… more time than you'd like to admit running around opening doors. Each new pathway always taking you back to the start at the end of it. Once everyone's to exhausted to continue and agrees that nothing's going to get done at this rate you finally leave.

You and Ren tell Akechi about everything that happened and he focuses on the fact Maruki's persona was personally talking to you guys. He thinks this would be a good opportunity to get information on Maruki without actually having to talk to him. He also notes that making progress in his palace might be impossible without learning more about his powers anyway. Ren agrees with him, so Akechi does his best to get time off for tomorrow.

Akechi manages to pull through, so the next day you're back in Maruki's palace with him in tow this time, hoping to gain something out of this visit. Be it information or by some miracle, progress.

Azathoth is there to greet you as soon as you step inside and calling your group "bold" for daring to come back. Akechi steps forward to try and manipulate it into telling him how Maruki's powers work. Azathoth see's through it though being able to read Akechi's mind, and instead offers to show everyone. Then it teleports everyone to different sides of the palace and places them under the effects of actualisation. It doesn't end up working on you since Azathoth isn't actually able to read into your deepest memories. There's not enough for him to draw upon to actualise into a fantasy for you, so instead to keep you out of the way he places you onto a pedestal. It's high enough that if you were to jump off you'd without a doubt break something.

When you're put up there all you can think about is the event that got you sent to this world in the first place, and break down. You're there for a while, hyperventilating and begging for someone—anyone—to get you down from there. You freak out when something starts to circle around your waist and pull you upwards until you're pulled into somebody. It takes a bit longer for you to calm down and open your eyes, and when you do your vision is filled with floating holograms filled with code and random hieroglyphs fluttering across the walls.

Futaba continues holding onto you tightly, trying to ground you and asks if you're doing any better. When you tell yes she says she's going to make her persona spit the both of you back onto the ground now. It's a short distance so you should be fine! You give her the okay and wait for your feet to finally touch the floor before you're thanking her profusely. She's a little embarrassed, but otherwise brushes it off. You're her friend and her teammate, she would never leave you in that kind of position. Especially when she knows how awful it is to feel that panicked.

Taking another moment to fully calm yourself, you remember everyone was supposed to be put under the effects of actualisation, and ask Futaba how she was able to save you.

She tells you she was, but her persona alerted her to you being in trouble. When she arrived and saw you in that state she realized she was in a fantasy and had to snap out of it to help you. You thank her again and set off to find the rest of your teammates.

You both end up coming across Ryuji and Makoto and freeing them from their fantasies, and afterwards you hear something collapse in the distance. Futaba brings you to where it supposedly happened, and when you enter you find the place has been utterly demolished.

Following the path of destruction leads you to Akechi. He's a mess. Breathing heavily on the floor and completely disheveled. He nearly cuts your head off when you try to walk towards him, but quickly puts his sword away when he realizes it's the real you.

The others stay off to the side while you're helping him up. Makoto asks him what happened here and Akechi's only response is to call this his hell.

They would've asked why, had the room not started to shift. Akechi's hold on you tightens as everything that was broken gets put back where it was in peak condition, and a couple people start to form out of the dust that was scattered across the floor.

Oh.

It's his parents.

You don't know much about his mother, other than the fact she killed herself, but watching Shido attempt to be fatherly towards Akechi is enough to make you gag. You can't begin to fathom how Akechi is taking this himself.

It quickly sinks in for the others what the gravity of the situation is. With the way his grip on you tightens even further, and the way his other hand twitches as if ready to throw his blade through their skull.

You're positive you're moments away from entering a fight, when lightning strikes them both, shocking them in place. It's Ryuji who announces it's time to leave, grabbing your other arm and bolting off with Futaba in Makoto's grasp running beside you.

"He's your dad??? No wonder you turned out the way you did."

"If the peanut gallery could shut the fuck up and focus on escaping I'm sure that'd be beneficial to everyone!"

You're all panicking running through hallway after hallway and coming to the realization that the house has suddenly turned into maze. You're weaving through the cognitions attacks and doing whatever you can to try and slow it down so you can backtrack if you ever come across a dead end.

Eventually you find the door you used to get in here, but it won't budge which effectively makes it a dead end. You quickly turn around to try and find a different exit, but the cognitions have caught up to you and trapped you there. They fuse together with a bunch of objects in the surrounding area and become an amalgamation of things you assume Akechi's supposed to love. There's no way around it now, so you're forced to fight it.

The only thing this… thing seems to be weak to is gun, but very quickly you all run out of bullets. It seemed like all anyone could do was scratch it when trying anything else, and soon the fight turned from "is this weak to any other element?" to "is there anything in this area I can throw at it to simulate gun damage?"

In the midst of everyone outside of Akechi rooting through household objects, Futaba is able to come up with a plan. A plan that requires Akechi to enter her persona with her for a bit while the rest of you keep the cognition occupied. Akechi's the only one with gun skills so it'd be a pain to let him off the front lines, but you all trust Futaba and tell him to get in the UFO. After a moment of hesitation he eventually does.

They're separated from the fight for some time, long enough for the pressure to start being felt by the rest of you, but Akechi soon descends from Necronomicon. He walks past everyone, only to aim his gun right at the cognition. Futaba tells the rest of you to stand back before starting to charge his gun. That's when you notice the green pixels flying off of his gun in sparks.

Once it's fully charged and Futaba shouts at him to fire, you're surprised when he calls out to Hereward and is actually able to summon him.

Hereward shoots its arrow at the same time Akechi pulls the trigger and creates a massive explosion on impact with the cognition. When the smoke dissipates and you see no part of that monstrosity remained, the doors behind you opened. Everyone is swift to make their exit, and while you are too, you can't help but ask about what you just witnessed.

"When'd you get Hereward!? You've been using Loki this whole time??"

"Just now."

"???"

You're utterly confused and Akechi refuses to elaborate. When you look towards the others to see if they have any answer, Makoto shakes her head, Ryuji shrugs, and Futaba looks away.

While wandering around looking for any of the other Thieves, Makoto and Ryuji waste no time asking what the hell all of that just was. Akechi for the first time willingly answers questions asked of him (no you're not upset he answered them and not you. Of course not). The questions he chose to answer end up with him talking shit about Shido and ignoring everything else, but it does help the three not in the know understand him more.

Finally you run into the Thieves not already with you and make a b-line to the exit. It's safe to say this try at Maruki's palace was also a bust, so you leave pretty dejected having made no progress at all.

Everyone's mood—though already sour—immediately gets shot when you bump into Sae Niijima as soon as you leave the palace.

Filled with confusion, suspicion, and righteous fury, she demands you come with her to her apartment.

She was looking for Akechi. It was urgent, and he wasn't responding to her messages. When she asked around, the last place people saw him at was the stadium. She went thinking he was following a clue, only to see all of you appearing out of thin air.

Once you get there, the conversation with her quickly devolves. It turns from Sae sternly talking to you all and everyone trying to provide her with answers, to her yelling about all the trouble your group has caused and everyone frantically trying to rebut her claims. She doesn't believe a word any of you say and finds it baffling that you're somehow the cause behind Japan's recent incidents. You're at your wits end when she starts to harp on Makoto for getting involved with the Phantom Thieves, comparing her to their father, then trying to walk away.

None of you can allow her though, not when she's still so wound up and will clearly sell you out immediately. Makoto and Ryuji block her way to the door and everyone is trying to get her to listen, but it only makes her more agitated. When all seems to be reaching a boiling point, you hear someone behind you starting up the navigation app and without delay you're all sent into the Metaverse.

The house for the most part looks the same, except now there are two Makotos. It's Akechi that passes from behind you, dressed in his red and white rebel outfit, and explains why he sent everyone here. The only way to make sure she couldn't leave and force her to listen to us was to show her. What better way to show her than with her own palace?

Sae's still angry, even when looking at two Makotos she just thinks it's some form of joke, until Morgana starts to speak. Almost instantly all anger turns into confusion, and gets worse when you tell her that's your cat.

Now she's finally willing to listen to you, Ren's able to explain what's going on from when he arrived to now with everyone else chiming in here and there. To help explain the concept of Palaces to her, since you were already in one you went towards where her casino is. It's a reality check for her, when you explain what's in there and she has a brief encounter with her shadow.

Afterwards you exit her palace. She tells you she understands what you guys are doing now and that she needs a moment to clear her head. You still can't fully trust that she won't tell anybody, so Makoto elects to go with her for support.

Now that you all can finally breath everyone nearly collapses where they are.

You melt into your chair while everyone else talks about the events leading up to now. You chime in a couple times when they're talking about Sae, then they start to talk about what happened in Maruki's palace.

They each go over their own experiences when you all were separated by Azathoth. You learn Ren wasn't one of the people completely effected by the actualisation. He was put into a fantasy, but couldn't be fooled into thinking it was real so he was able to escape and help the others you and Futaba didn't find.

Despite the others mostly opening up (Everyone involved in Akechi's skirts around the topic. Akechi just calls it shit and asks to move on) you're very brief about yours and completely downplay the event, only saying that Azathoth couldn't use actualisation on you for reasons unknown and just put you somewhere high up so you couldn't interfere. You don't get to move on from it though, because Futaba ends up mentioning how awful you actually felt. While explaining the fantasy that Azathoth gave to her brought her mother back, the only way she realized it was fake was because she ended up in the room you where kept in. You were near inconsolable and could barely hear a word she was saying. The only way to help was to snap out of the fantasy herself and use her persona to get you down from there.

You get sympathy looks from some that you wave off as just your fear of heights getting the better of you, but the others look at you with some form of guilt. That's when Ann asks if it's really just a fear of heights. You're confused as to why she'd even ask, then she brings up your palace and you freeze. Then you realize everyone looking at you with some form of guilt are the ones that explored your palace ages ago.

They explain the only way to defeat your shadow without killing it was to use your fear of heights against it. It screamed a lot and they felt terrible for doing it, and one of the many things it ended up shout at them was "Please, I'll do whatever you want, just don't push me."

You're horrified that they've known this the whole time and they feel bad for forgetting to ask. Now everyone is staring at you waiting for you to say literally anything in response, but you have no idea how to tell them. You still don't even want to think about it.

Before you can say anything and therefore can keep delaying processing all of that, the TV cuts to a broadcast. Unfortunately, it'd the SIU Director.

Everyone in the room glances to Akechi for answers, but he's unfortunately just as confused as everyone else. That in itself is terrible news.

He proceeds to go on and on about how the Phantom Thieves are an egregious danger to this society, how outside of hacking their ways of "changing hearts" are completely unknown. Are they getting blackmail? Are they threatening them in person? Could they possibly be staging every ordeal? Or is it something even more sinister? Then he blames the death of principal Kobayakawa on them, how there was a calling card found in his office yet statements on it were kept quiet, and suggests that something similar might've happened to Okumura. He states these "Phantom Thieves of Hearts" to be public enemy number one and offers a fifty million yen reward for any information useful to the investigation.

Everyone is shocked and outraged, but falls silent when Akechi's phone rings. He answers the call in another room while the rest of you sit in tense silence.

When he comes back he reveals he's been given a deadline. Find and kill the Phantom Thieves before the end of November. Shido didn't say what would happen if he didn't, but it's not hard to piece together what the consequences are.

Everyone takes a moment to calm down while waiting for Sae and Makoto to come back and tell them what just happened. Sae promises that she won't sell you out and suggests that you all should go home so you can think things through with a clear head tomorrow.

The next day when you all come together you get to planning. It's clear Shido and the Director are trying to goad you into delving into the palace of someone on the investigation team. That would severely lower the number of people Akechi has to look into. You can't go after the Director since that would still be falling into his trap yet again. It seems the only way to stop this is and save yourselves + Akechi at the same time is to go after the man himself to expose the conspiracy.

So now you have to switch gears and deal with Shido before Akechi’s deadline. The only problem is you still have Okumura tucked away in your palace. You don't know how much time you'll have after you beat Shido before the Metaverse takeover, so you're going to have to complete two palaces at the same time. Knowing how each palace has gone up to this point, both are going to be extremely hard as well.

Everyone is stressed and already exhausted, so you all decide to go home and rest for tomorrow. Before you get too far away though Ren pulls you aside and asks you to follow him. He brings you into Mementos telling you he has a persona for you. You're excited for about two seconds until he tells you it's Hell Biker.

"Are you being serious right now?"

"He has fifty in magic and sixty in agility."

"I'm listening."

Ren tells you he's been working on Hell Biker alongside Arsène since he learned he could give you personas. Now seemed like a good time to give him to you since you'll need all the coverage and firepower your team can get. Also because he's worried. He's worked on this forever (3 months) he needs you to have him.

You're overjoyed you get to have one of the skeletons on your team and at how much work Ren put into him.

When you accept him into your heart you're expecting the serene experience with slight hints to their element thrown in that the other personas given to you had. What you were not expecting was for a burn so intense to bring you to your knees and adrenaline to start pumping through your veins. It's even more surprising to watch his form morph into something else. Not by much, but noticeable enough to question why anything about it was changing in the first place. Then he speaks,

"So you are the one that changes fate? Very well. I am Ghost Rider, and together we will be the saviours of the innocent! Let us show those sinners the true meaning of Hell!"

Half of his moves also mutate into better versions of themselves, before the burn fades away and your body releases its tension.

Ren helps you up as you both watch the newly formed Ghost Rider hitch up his monster of a motorcycle in one of the side areas and everything around it change to match. Switching from looking at him to his stats you find they've all increased.

"… This is the best thing you could have ever given to me."

Ren, after getting over his shock, of course acts cocky about it before you check him in the arm. He laughs it off, then sincerely tells you he's happy it got stronger for you. He still needs to figure out what the best persona would be for your last slot, so the sudden mutation was beneficial in the meantime.

The next day you all meetup again to decide what to do. You only have around a month, given the deadline Shido's set for Akechi, but who knows if he'd pull the trigger earlier then that. That makes Shido top priority, but you can’t ignore the possibility of that being the catalyst of the Metaverse takeover. If that happens then you can't do anything to Okumura. Seeing as it'd be too inefficient to do one before the other, it comes to the terrible conclusion to do them at the same time. If you split into to teams, one to work on Okumura’s palace and one to do Shido’s, then the problems they could potentially face down the line don't apply.

No one really wants to, either because they know the next palaces are going to be extremely hard or because the thought of going in with a small group in itself is difficult, but you all know you can pull it off. You have to.

After some deliberation, you all manage to decide who's going to be on what team.

On operation Shido there's Joker, Crow, Mona, Panther, and Fox, while on operation Okumura has You, Skull, Queen, Oracle, and Noir.

It felt wrong to move either Ren or Akechi to do Okumura’s Palace since they both have a personal stake in Shido's. You, obviously, were sent to Okumura’s as the only other person with multiple personas and knowledge of his palace. As much as you'd love to help them deal with that piece of shit, the firepower is needed on Okumura’s side.

That does leave both wildcard's in the other palace, so you can't help but ask who's supposed to be the leader on your team. Everyone gives you various looks, from surprised, to disbelief, and amusement. It takes you a moment to understand why.

"… Wait it's me!? I don't know the first thing about leading a team!"

"Haven't you technically already lead our team to victory multiple times?"

"Yeah, in the game! This is completely different I don't know the first thing about—"

Ren places a hand on your shoulder to stop you before you ramble yourself into a panic. He only had one thing to say,

"You'll be fine."

You don't know if you should be embarrassed that was all it took for you to calm down.

Once you discuss a little more on how each team is going to operate you split off. Each group going towards their respective targets location to start their palaces. Ren does make sure to give you half of the coffee and curry supply to hopefully make up for the half of the team your missing. He also tries to shove a majority of his healing items and smoke bombs onto you since your team doesn't have a backup member. It takes a while before you get on the train to head towards Okumura foods.

You arrive with your members and find an alleyway nearby to go over his palace in more detail. When you're about to head inside so you can use the war table in your palace to help with descriptors, you get a message from Ren. He's telling you to hold on for a moment and saying he's leaving the final decision to you. You would've asked him what he meant if the answer didn't come barreling into you at top speed.

It's Yoshizawa. She wants to help.

You want to deny her help since this has nothing to do with her at all and the stakes have gotten extremely dire, but she's still insistent. Especially since she figured out you're going in with such a small group. You can't deny that you know she's good and having an extra person would only be beneficial, so after talking it over with the others, you acquiesce and let her on the team as Violet. Though, you make her promise that this is going to be the only palace she helps you with.

Now that your team has a party of 5 attackers, 3 of which can also heal (that's including you), and a navigator, it makes you feel a little better about diving into Okumura’s palace.

You head into your palace first to get Yoshizawa up to speed and describe the layout of Okumura’s palace (at least the games layout. You don't know if it's changed or not). Once everyone's got everything down you head into his palace proper.

You find Okumura’s palace has altered in ways that makes it all the more irritating to get through. He is simultaneously, more confident in his position, yet more terrified of getting taken down one way or another. The shaky agreement you currently have with him saves him from Shido, but now he also knows Shido wants him dead. Sure you've lent out your hand to help him, but the Phantom Thieves are still a rouge vigilante group that change the hearts of the corrupt, and the Black Mask is an assassin working for Shido. Even if siding with you guys is a safer bet, to him every side is a loss.

His shadow is… without a better way to put it, completely delusional because of this. He never physically shows himself, but he's constantly heard over the speakers and occasional TV broadcast. It drives all of you insane, though it does lead you to learning how to navigate the area faster.

On one of your runs through and quickly getting tired of hearing Okumura’s shadow mouthing off, you remark how nice it would be if Prometheus could carry you all. Futaba tells you she could fit one extra person in there at most. Ryuji then says it would be nice if they could all just ride their personas, before summoning Seiten Taisei and attempting to jump onto his cloud.

It works.

That in turn makes you summon Ghost Rider to try and get on his bike. After he scoots back a bit you perfectly fit on the seat infront of him.

Makoto gets on Anat in motorcycle form, Haru is able to join behind her, and Futaba lets Yoshizawa into Prometheus.

With this revelation the palace exploration goes by much quicker. You're even able to skip a couple of the puzzles thanks to both yours and Ryuji's lack of self preservation (you both mostly just want to reach the end to make Okumura shut up).

"I bet I could make that jump."

"I could just fly over."

"How about that's a long fall with spinning gears at the bottom so neither of you should do anything!"

In about a week, your team reaches the end of Okumura’s palace and secures the route to his treasure. When you reach the rendezvous point excited to tell the others about the news, it's dampened when you notice the other team hasn't arrived yet. Makoto then notes you've arrived a little early and to give them a bit more time to show up.

Over ten minutes past the meetup time and they still haven't shown up. Futaba checks to see if their phones are even getting service. They aren't, so they must still be in the Metaverse.

Worried for their safety, you all agree to go to Shido's palace. Though you make sure Yoshizawa gets on the train home first and promise to text her when you're out. None of you want her anywhere near the politician.

As soon as you enter, Futaba tracks their location and you all set off. It's when she notices there's a powerful signature in the area with them you get her to patch you all into coms.

"Joker! What's going on over there? Are you guys okay??"

"What the— What are you guys doing here!?"

"You were late!"

You're all speeding towards the location Futaba gave you when an explosion suddenly shakes the yacht. The others are frantic on the other side of coms and when you reach the side of the boat they're on you can see why.

They're fighting way off the side of the boat on pillars of ice. The side of the ship where you vaguely remember the IT President's room is lit ablaze. Almost like a meteor struck that exact spot. You assume that was the cause of the explosion earlier.

The others are trying to ask what the hell happened here. Key word trying, since they're frantic themselves and trying to figure out a way up that won't have everyone slip and fall into the water below. Eventually Ren breaks away for a moment to give you answers.

This is the IT Director. He was just some nerd in a suit, but then they accidentally pissed him off. He proceeded to turn into Oberon, shock everyone in the room, take the letter and fly off the side of the ship. They've been trying to get him back on the ship, but he's as fast as a bullet, and anytime they get close he summons a Titania to protect him. Titania also keeps breaking the pillars and it's taking a toll on Yusuke. Akechi then interrupts to ask if you're going to stand around and watch, or get up there and help.

Ryuji and Futaba fly up to get to the fight faster while you, Makoto, and Haru have to climb up the side of the yacht to jump over. It takes all of you to enact a plan to get the IT Director back on the ship, and when he is, you and Ren waste no time trapping him there. Surrounded by a wall of fire, he has no where to go as you both pummel him into the ground and take the letter from him. At that Ren calls it a day and you all head back.

(Of course you inform Yoshizawa about what happened and it takes a long time to calm her of her guilt and to stop worrying about you all)

The next day you're debating whether you should steal Okumura's treasure now or closer to Shido's. There's good points for both, waiting mostly in favour of his safety, but Akechi brings up how useful Okumura could be if done now. He could be an immense boon once they plan to write and send out Shido's calling card since he was deep into the conspiracy. While true, Futaba does clap back that they'd still have to wait for the change of heart to fully come into affect. Who knows how long that'd take or if it'd even get done in time. Then there's the obvious problem if Shido finds out he's back he'd just try to kill him.

It's Haru that steps up next, saying she could keep his return a secret from everyone. That way there'd be little risk in taking his treasure now. Even if the change isn't finished in time, they'll at least won't have to worry about it later. When everyone asks if she's okay with the possibilities of it going wrong, she solidifies her stance. She wants her father to get better, but she also wants to make sure Shido gets convicted for as much of his crimes as possible. So she'll make sure both succeed.

The only problem with the plan is the public's opinion since they wouldn't be able to make a grand gesture of Okumura's calling card, but at this point no one cares that much. If anything they're irritated that public opinion matters that much at all. There isn't anyone with a better plan that appeases the public while also dealing with both of their targets in a better manner so it has to do anyway.

Later on, you have Sae deliver the calling card to Okumura, feigning that it was left at the door and interrogating him over it. When she tells you he read it and looked manic your previous team absolutely dreads the fight. The others that have yet to experience his palace worry for the state of it at your reactions.

Okumura's fight, for better or for worse, has barely seen any changes. The only difference is him being more frantic in his decisions and overall being more unpredictable. Which sucks since all the shadows and cognitions have more nullifications and repels that always comes back to bite you. He's also yapping the whole fight, and while your team was used to his nonsense (unfortunately), the other team was not. You're pretty sure Akechi would've shot him if he wasn't trying to be as careful as possible.

When you finally win the fight and take his treasure, you're now waiting for it to take effect and acting as normal as possible.

During the waiting game, Akechi is almost never around since he still has to act like he's searching for the Phantom Thieves, but there is one day where he asks to meet you in your palace. When you arrive he's already there, and he doesn't wait long before he's

He tells you he's giving you Loki.

You think he's insane.

Then he starts to go off on how he doesn't really need Loki, Hereward and him are basically the same. Hereward is just stronger in every way and knows Rebellion Blade. He also doesn't even need Loki's ability anymore and Hereward has a more useful ability anyway. And he's not annoying like Loki is so—

Akechi's basically giving you the worst sales pitch in the world, but you start to figure out where this decision is really coming from. Without another moment of hesitation you stop him from further making a fool of himself to give your answer.

"Sounds like a pain. I'd be more than happy to take him off your hands."

After he collects himself, Akechi begins the transfer and Loki slowly comes into your view. The feeling is just as intense as it was with Ghost Rider, but instead of the feeling of fire coursing through your veins, it's a bone chilling freeze creeping up your spine. Though this time you're prepared and continue to stand tall. You don't want to collapse encase Loki would see that as a weakness and somehow reject you, but he breaks that train of thought quickly.

"YOU ALREADY KNOW OF ME, AND I OF YOU. YOU HAVE PROVED YOUR WORTH LONG AGO. WE SHALL CLAIM VICTORY OVER ALL AND LET NOTHING STAND IN OUR WAY. MAY THE GODS FALL BENEATH OUR FEET."

When Loki's fully accepted into your heart and the pain subsides, you watch as the last room in your Thieves Den morph into one perfectly fitting for him. Then you go to check his stats and can't believe what you're looking at. His move pool is so much larger than any of your other personas. You have to do a double take and count everything just to make sure you're not making things up.

You have access to everything.

Every move or ability Loki has ever used is available to you.

Including Call of Chaos.

You're staring at the list in shock while Loki is laughing somewhere in the room. If he's laughing at you, at the mayhem he thinks/hopes you'll get up to, or just at the situation you don't know. Akechi walks next to you looking more smug than he was before.

"I hope he does you well."

You're overwhelmed. So overwhelmed that you don't think twice before you're pulling him into a hug. He's stiff for a moment, then relaxes and just lets it happen.

"Thank you Akechi."

"… It's Goro."

While you're stunned at the next emotional bomb he just dropped on you, Akechi successfully pushes you away and promptly speed walks over to the exit. He informs you he's stayed around for too long and has to get back to looking like he's doing work, then makes his leave.

A couple days later with no sign of Okumura getting out of his slump or Shido making any sort of moves, you all head back into Shido's palace. Everyone's relieved to finally have the full party back together again. Especially knowing that this last letter will probably have them run into cognitive Akechi. A fight that sounds like it's going to be extremely taxing since they're expecting The Cleaner to be hard enough.

Once you take out his goons and follow him into the Engine Room, you're unfortunately proven right. He has no weaknesses, something you were expecting since the original is the same, but he's also immune to your strongest fighters. It's completely irritating, but more doable than the last guy was and you beat him without too much issue. The real problem comes after.

Everyone heals up and replenishes their energy before leaving the Engine Room, to unfortunately be greeted by cognitive Akechi waiting on the other side.

He spouts a lot of nonsense similar to what he originally said in the game, everyone disputes him, Goro tells him to fuck off and die, and the fight commences.

This world's Shido must've thought he was some unkillable god of some kind in the Metaverse 'cause the fight is utterly ridiculous. It doesn't help that he keeps summoning shadows to his side, making the fight more cluttered than it needed to be. You all know Shido's faith in Goro has waned though, so everyone tries to figure out where to poke to get the cognition to slip.

When everyone is on that, Goro slips over to you to ask if you know how to use Loki. When you reply that of course you do, he's your persona now, Goro just says that's great and to get ready. As soon as the others find cognitive Akechi’s breaking point, you and Goro strike. The look on the cognitions face when he realizes the real Goro’s no longer the one in control of Loki is absolutely priceless.

It's a thrill moving in tandem with Goro. There's a level of sheer violence that no one else has that's so invigorating all you can do is laugh alongside him. You don't bat an eye when he shoots his doppelganger in the face. If anything you feel lighter than you did before.

That's one fate you've finally managed to change for good. Even though you still have a ways to go before you're out of the absolute worst of it, it still feels like your efforts are finally bearing fruit. The cognition you just watched Goro wipe being the proof.

Now with all the letters in your possession, you're able to open the door and secure the route to Shido's treasure. Now all that's left is to see if Okumura will change in time, or if you have to continue without his additions.

A few days after, Haru informs everyone Okumura's change of heart has finally gone through. She had to do a lot of convincing to get her father to stay put and not make any sudden announcements, but he did eventually concede. With a little bit of negotiating with Sae and a few scant sightings of Black Mask, Okumura agrees to help the Phantom Thieves take down Shido (not that he needed much convincing, but some definitely needed to be made when it came to what information needs to shared to the public and what can wait for trial).

It takes a couple more days to get the footage, but when you do

It goes over about the same as it did in the game. The Phantom Thieves hacking multiple news stations to send out their video calling card to Shido. With the addition of you of course, but Goro refused to make an appearance. Despite everything he still doesn't want to openly associate with the Phantom Thieves, and says it's beneficial for it to stay that way.

One major change does happen at the end, which makes the public go wild (and you can only hope it drives Shido mad). Okumura makes his appearance at the end, openly apologizing for everything he's done and lifting the veil on the conspiracy. Shido is a maniac, and has an assassin he only knows as the Black Mask under his belt. He is responsible for all of the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns happening around Japan. All he can do now is apologize profusely for his appalling behaviour in taking apart of this and turn himself into the police.

When his section cuts off and the declaration to steal Shido's heart has been made you all jump in.

The talk with Shido's shadow at the start is… rough to say the least, but it's not like you weren't expecting that. It was already charged when it was just the Phantom Thieves with Ren. Now that Goro's here too it makes listening to him so much more infuriating.

The fight is also more or less what you expected. The horrendous fusion of Shido's ego and the bonus difficulty increase was comically easy to guess and plan around. Granted it doesn't make the battle any easier to actually fight against, but you're as prepared as you possibly could. Especially Ren, who's somehow managed to become over prepared, but at this point you can't even blame him.

When you get separated from the battle with the other Phantom Thieves, it leaves the only ones left facing Shido to be Ren Amamiya and Goro Akechi.

In any other instance you'd be worried, every fight up to this point has been made so much harder, but you already know they'd never let him get the upper hand again. No matter how much harder he may be, he's going down now, and you get front row seats for such a spectacle.

There is a moment where you're worried Goro may actually go through with his original convictions and kill Shido, but Ren manages to talk him down from that. Goro also doesn't want to squander their chances of getting the other criminal convicted and killing a god, so instead he says he hopes Shido rots in prison and dies at somebody else's hand.

That's when the palace starts to collapse.

Without another moment to spare, Morgana transforms into his bus form for everyone to hop on, while those that can ride their own personas take the lead.

It's anxiety inducing dodging all the falling rubble and trying to pick paths that whoever is driving Morgana is able to follow through. A few times you've had to go a different way or just blast your way through the falling ship, but you quickly make your way to the start of the yacht.

Not wanting to even attempt getting the lifeboat (even though your memory of the game has slowly faded with time, you will never forget the Ryuji scare) you have everyone drive immediately into your palace. You get stuck there for a bit while it's deciding where it should spit you out now that the original exit is gone, but no one cares. You've all finally accomplished one of the biggest hurdles in your way.

With both Okumura and Shido having a change of heart, the public and the police force are frantic. Sae outright tells you your group is highly suspected to be the Phantom Thieves at this point, but they don't have any evidence to make an arrest. You're forced to lay low and not draw more suspicion towards yourselves unless you want to tempt the police to take action against you anyway.

This still isn't ideal. Even though nothing happened immediately after Shido's change, Yaldabaoth could still make his move at any moment. You can't do anything if you get arrested though, so you all pick one day to celebrate your victory over Okumura and Shido to get your minds off of everything.

After waiting a few days, the police only seem to get busier and busier. Dealing with two high level people, to them, basically confessing to a heinous conspiracy at the same time, public pressure forcing them to comb through every other candidate, needing to take in the SIU Director into custody, and having the Phantom Thieves still be at large on top of all that. They are stretched thin and barely holding on, but it does let them move a little more freely than earlier.

At some point when trying to studying for final exams with Yoshizawa, you accidentally let it slip that Maruki may be your next target. This obviously concerns her, and after a bit of convincing on her end and not wanting to sit around waiting for the world to end on yours, you agree to search through the palace with her.

You don't think you'd get into any fights since you're only scouting, but just in case you inform Ren where you're going and who you're with. Ren tells you it's a bad idea and informs you Morgana will be very disappointed if you go in. You reassure them that you plan on staying outside and at the entrance, only enough for Yoshizawa to get the picture. He relents, but if you're not back in less than an hour he's going in for you.

When you and Yoshizawa get in, you walk around the perimeter with her, trying to explain why his ideals—even though are done with good intentions—aren't exactly great. You wouldn't even be here discussing this if his desires weren't distorted in some way.

You think she's starting to understand why his mentality isn't necessarily a good one, but when you open the front door to show her some of the things inside things start to go horribly wrong. Beyond the door lies bright flashing lights, accompanied by the sound of slot machines and people chattering.

This is clearly not Maruki's palace.

You ask Yoshizawa to stay by the door and go further in to see if what you think is happening really is happening. Walking around you only find more and more slot machines, until you come across a shadow at a desk. She's selling membership cards for fifty-thousand coins. You think you're going to scream.

On the way back towards Yoshizawa you notice a shadow behind her charging up some sort of attack.

Without thinking you pull her out of harms way, which unfortunately meant you pulled her away from the door. The explosion caused by that shadow was enough to close it behind you. It doesn't open again.

You both try everything you can think of to get it to open again, even just a crack, but it doesn't budge a bit. You actually do scream this time.

Knowing Ren will show up at some point to save you and to say "I told you so" has you stay put for as long as possible. You don't want to run off and make it harder for the rest of the Thieves to find you guys, but you eventually do have to move when what looks like security starts scoping out the floor. You don't know how strong they could be, so starting a fight with only two of you is asking to die.

The more doors you open the more you realize something's not right. Sometimes when you open a door you'll find yourself in a castle or a bank, but most of the time it's still the casino. Though not one of the doors has lead you back to the Science Centre. You thought the one time you were messing with a randomizer mod had somehow injected itself into Maruki's palace, but this is clearly more selective then that.

After speed walking past the fifth ass you and Yoshizawa had the displeasure of looking at, you end up in a different section of the Sae-but-not-Sae's palace. That's when you get patched through to coms and--

"Hey Glitch, we're here! Care to tell us what the heck is going on??"

"Why hello Oracle it's so nice to hear from you! I was just thinking about you. I managed to find a copy of Zephyrman earlier that we could watch—"

"Answer the question!"

While you're telling them what happened, you eventually get cut off by shouting in the distance. Looking around you realize it's coming from their side, and after they calm down they inform you they were separated. Now you all have to take part in this randomized maze of a palace.

Along the way you and Yoshizawa manage to group up with Ren and Goro, before finding yourselves in Maruki's palace again. You don't know whether to consider it good or bad that you end up in the room with the projection of Kasumi. Then her headaches start. You would tell her what's going on, but she wants to figure it out for herself, so instead you help her navigate through the areas.

After some time you finally come across a room filled with Maruki's research. It's in there Yoshizawa figures out what happened to her.

It takes a lot of reassurance, but she eventually calms down enough to continue moving. Ren and Goro lead while you stay behind with her to make sure she doesn't fall behind or get ambushed. When you make it back to the entrance of Maruki's palace, you find Futaba and Makoto are already there. Everyone else is still somewhere inside.

You lead Yoshizawa to sit on the side of the building and let her cry. Soon everyone's come over to offer their condolences, while Futaba and Makoto are able to offer more in the form of experience. When the others arrive they also go over their own false realities Maruki had them stuck in for a time, and how they pushed through it.

Yoshizawa thanks everyone and says she just needs a moment before they can move on, which everyone readily gives her. It shouldn't have been a surprise that when you were all distracted talking about what was wrong with this palace, Yoshizawa gets taken away by Azathoth.

You're all chasing after him, threatening the persona to give her back while he berates you for undoing Maruki's work.

"She was doing well under our guidance until you dismantled our hard work."

"Are you—look at where that's gotten her!" "Like she needs his shitty fucking therapy!"

With him holding Yoshizawa so close none of you can really get any good hits in that won't harm her in the process. So you're exhilarated when she starts to fight back herself. She's still distraught, but she wants to try and face herself and asks you all to call her Sumire.

Now that she's freed herself from Azathoth's grasp, you all get ready to fight him head on. Azathoth clearly didn't want to though, so in order to make sure more of Maruki's efforts to go to waste, he makes haste to eject you all from his palace. Trying to go back in leads to you getting an error message.

When you finally leave you offer to walk Sumire home before heading home yourself. You feel terrible for what you put her through, but she doesn't regret asking you to take her into Maruki's palace. She feels awful right now, but she wants to push forward like all of you can.

The next day you learn through Goro that Maruki's palace has been completely locked off. After much deliberating and learning most of the Thieves apps aren't even working properly anymore, the only thing that comes to mind is Yaldabaoth getting tired of things not going his way. This literally leaves you to sit around and wait for the apocalypse to happen.

You do as much as you can before exams start. Help Sumire get more comfortable with herself, finishing of the last of the requests that you had no time to do before, and of course studying for the actual exams.

When exam days finally roll around you're on autopilot. You're physically doing the tests, but in your mind you can only think about the upcoming fight. The others aren't doing much better than you, but you all always come together to try and do something other than worry. It's one of those times when the sky turns red and the pillars of bone start to protrude from the ground. Knowing what comes next, you all descend to the depths of Mementos to confront the false god.

The journey through Qliphoth World is surprisingly mostly normal. Sure the shadows in the area are still stronger than normal, but it's nowhere near as agonizing as the last couple palaces have been. Morgana thinks since this area is the depths of Japan's psyche, you would have much less of an effect on it. Probably the reason why the shadows are even stronger is because they all were expecting it at this point.

You reach the bottom and are greeted to the cup of giant proportions. His monologue is about the same as it was, with the addition of him openly hating on Ren and Goro for veering off the guided course of the world, and you for daring to interfere in the first place.

This fight is much harder than any of you were expecting. You let the rest of the area lower your guard and paid the price for that. Though whether fortunate or unfortunate, the rhythm of the fight is still the same. After making enough progress, the masses simply heal him to full again and eject all of you back to the real world where you begin to disappear.

Another wrench is thrown to your expectations again when you find yourself floating somewhere in the void, instead of the Velvet Room. You're wandering around completely confused, hoping to find something—anything to help you figure out where you are when you see a sliver of blue. You rush to it hoping to find a possible entrance to the Velvet Room, but when you reach it you're only left more confused. You found the Velvet Room, it's just below you.

You stand there and watch as Ren frees everyone from the cages they were locked in while Goro and Morgana wait with Igor and Lavenza. Even after everyone enters the main area, Ren continues to run around. It takes you a moment to realize he's probably looking for you. The goal to find the exit becomes more urgent since you don't want to leave them to freak out, but you still don't know where to even start. When you turn around to continue looking, you're surprised when you bump into someone.

You jump back and begin to profusely apologize, afraid whoever you ran into could be a different Velvet Room attendant (god you hope it's not Elizabeth that would be a terrible first impression), but the laugh that you hear makes you pause. It's not one of the female attendants, but it doesn't sound like Theodore either. You look up to see who could possibly be talking to you and nearly blank.

It's Philemon.

Philemon is standing in front of you and he's laughing.

You think you're about to short circuit. Never in your life—even once you got transported here—did you ever think you'd be meeting one of the Gods of this world (by your heart of hearts Yaldaboath doesn't count), it wasn't even a thought that crossed your mind, yet here you are.

He starts to talk in what you think is a teasing way, but you're still struggling to process that he's standing right there. When you're brain's finally caught up, you accidentally cut him off to ask why he's here and why he's talking to you.

He wanted to converse with you since he finds you "interesting". Of course that tells you nothing so you ask him to clarify. Then he brings up your status as an outworlder. You're just about to roll your eyes when he continues speaking. It's much more than just you being from another world. He's the one that brought you here.

He's the one who gave you a second chance at life. He grew interested in your universe when he noticed a copy of his had been made in the form of a game. He wanted to know how pulling someone who already knows of this worlds future events would affect how things change. Since he was still recovering from his last major hurdle, he couldn't simply pluck someone from your world and bring them to his. Especially with all the barriers already surrounding it. Though when he saw you fall off that roof he couldn't help but to try and at least pull your soul over. Now here you are.

You honestly can't believe anything that just came out of his mouth. He summoned you over because you happened to be at the wrong place at the right time? Truly you can't believe it. You don't want to.

God was actually just fucking with you.

You can't entirely hate him for pulling you from your original universe. If he didn't you would've died and never had gotten to meet any of the Phantom Thieves you now hold even closer to your heart. You got to improve the lives for people you care about and for that you'll forever be grateful. But none of that changes the fact he did all of this on a whim.

He continues to go on about the changes you've made to fit your perception of a happier ending. He applauds you for your commitment and ability to preserver through strife despite this being completely unthinkable territory for you barely a year ago.

You stop him for a moment to collect yourself. You have a ton of questions you could be asking, but only one rests at the forefront of your mind. Why is he telling you this now?

His gaze almost turns somber in the way he looks at you. It makes you dread his response.

"You're being has become intrinsically tied to the Metaverse. There was no other way for me to tether you to this reality whilst lacking my full capabilities. What do you think will happen once it's gone?"

It barely takes you a moment to think of the answer, and it makes your blood freeze. Philemon can only look sorry for you (as much as he's willing to allow himself). He says that's all he had to impart onto you, and that he prays you find some way around it. With that being the last thing he had to say, he teleports you into one of the many back areas of the Velvet Room.

You sit there for a moment, needing to process this alone before you run into the main room where all your friends are waiting. The thought of Thieves nearly makes you cry.

A glowing butterfly makes itself known in the corner of your vision. It reminds you of what you're currently fighting for, so you pull yourself together. There's currently a god whose ass you have to help kick, you can feel sorry for yourself and your friends later.

As soon as you walk into the room your friends are immediately on you. They're completely panicked when they ask what happened to you, and you have no idea how to tell them the news. They still don't know you're from a different universe entirely, so you'd have a lot to explain. Time you don't really have. You guess you faltered for long enough for Igor to step in your place. He doesn't explain your predicament though and only brings the conversation back to Yaldobaoth. You feel guilty and you're sure some of the others notice, but you delude yourself into thinking it's fine and that you'll have time to tell them later.

Everything from then plays out like in the game. The climb up the tower of bones, fighting the archangels, and then Yaldabaoth himself. He still hates you all for steering everything off course and making this more complicated then it needed to be. He thanks you though for the new status ailments to use and you can only flip him off. He knocks you all down, Morgana makes his big speech and you earn the belief of all Japan. Ren summons Satanael and shoots the false god in the face.

It's when the Metaverse starts crumbling away and everyone is saying their 'goodbye's and 'see you later's to Morgana that you start to disappear.

You're freaking out. Some of them are freaking out, but a few are also mad at you. You don't get to explain yourself before you're dragged away by what's left of the Metaverse.

It's dark for a while. You don't know what you were expecting when you died, but it wasn't sitting in the void for an eternity. Soon you see a butterfly flying towards you from somewhere beyond the darkness, it's glow being the only thing eye-catching in this place. It comes close enough to land on you, but when it does a shock is sent throughout your entire system. Then something you aren't able to decipher starts to pull you out of what feels like the bottom of an ocean of oil. As soon as you breach the surface—

You wake up.

You take in your surroundings, groggily, but still with rapt attention. You don't even know why you're looking around in such a fervor, your room is exactly how you left it. Though the Persona merch does make you pause. It makes you uneasy, but you can't understand why for the life of you.

Then someone barges into your room and it's… Ren? Foggy memories start to come back to you and you're starting to freak out. Then the Ren look-alike re-introduces himself as Akira Kurusu and says you must've had some lucid dream to confuse his name with Ren again.

Apparently everyone's been waiting for you to come to Leblanc to study. When you never showed up he was sent to come looking for you at your house.

You're getting a headache listening to him. Memories start to clash against each other trying to take up the dominate space in your mind. Though when Ren—Akira leaves to allow you to change, you can't find any scars on your body. At least none that would look like battle wounds, so you'll take his word for it.

When you finish getting dressed, he Akira leads you to where everyone else supposedly is. You don't know why, but you're actually surprised to find everyone actually is waiting for you.

Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, Goro, Akira's (lovingly) annoying ass cat, and your old friends. You don't know why, but you cry upon seeing them again.

The next few days are fairly normal to you. You go to school, hangout and play games with all your friends, and study. Despite everything proceeding as normal, you can't stop this nagging feeling that something is horribly wrong here. It all comes to a head when Akira visits you out of the blue.

He's acting a little off. He's much more silly and charming than he usually is, but there's also a sadness—a yearning in his eyes when he looks at you. Every one of his actions and every word he says also seems to be meticulously chosen in a way. Almost like one wrong move and he'd mess everything up. You can't figure out what he's so scared of getting wrong, he's only visiting you. You don't know what's gotten into him, but you're still finding it a nice change of pace from the laid back dude he usually is.

Once he's finished looking over your room with an attention to detail you didn't know he had, he confuses you with what he says next.

"This is a nice dream, but when are you going to wake up?"

You don't even know what to say to that. You're already awake. It's not like you could talk to him without being awake?

Akira leaves shortly after, but when he does you find a figure of Joker sitting on your shelf.

This repeats with all of your friends over the next few days. All of them telling you to "wake up" in various ways, either kindly, desperately, or… aggressively, and leaving behind a Persona figure eerily similar to them. Now you're having a hard time remembering what the Phantom Thieves actually looked like, but you can't find the game anywhere to check.

This whole thing is so confusing to you, you already woke up! Multiple times now in fact! You're starting to suspect they're talking about something else, but no matter what you can't put your finger on it.

Then everything sort of collapses in on you when you run into a new girl.

She introduces herself as Sumire, and she has the same yearning in her eyes that everyone else has had, along with their determination to confuse the fuck out of you.

"Have you even seen what's beyond this neighbourhood?"

When you tell her you've lived here all your life, she's adamant that you come with her to experience something new. You should be more weary of random people telling you to follow them, but something deep within you tells you she's trustworthy.

When you both reach the edge of your neighbourhood, you notice a line drawn in the ground to signify this is the end. You're a bit apprehensive, but Sumire is very patient and encouraging with you. Though before you can even take a step towards the line, you hear someone calling out to you.

It's some doctor. Apparently your therapist. Your instincts tell you not to trust a word he says, and the feeling is only furthered when Sumire talks back to him.

Soon the rest of your friends arrive on the scene and block your "therapist" from getting any closer to you. While he's distracted, Sumire tries to bring you across the line, but a barrier stops you from making anymore progress.

Not able to just drag you out anymore, Sumire starts talking about events that you swear never happened, but sound way too familiar. You shouldn't know this person, so your head is splitting when memories of you together crop up. She must see that what she's saying isn't helping at all, so she switches to hold your hands instead.

"You never gave up on me, so I'm not giving up on you."

Then she takes a figure of Violet out of her pocket and gives it to you, completing the set you didn't even know wasn't finished. You're trying to remember where this Thief comes from, and while staring at it your memories finally click into place.

The Thieves are extremely happy to finally have you back, while Maruki is disappointed he couldn't figure out a more surefire way to keep you affected by actualisation for longer. Your unique constitution made it incredibly difficult to figure out how to get it to work on you at all. Eventually he found if he kept you separated in your own little pocket, it'd be harder for you to tell what was real.

You're honestly appalled he put you in a bubble at all, but he promises it was only until he found a different solution, like that somehow makes it any better. Sumire starts to argue against his logic, so you go to stand next to her and give your own

"This is not the future I fought for! It's not the one we went through all that pain and suffering for! This fantasy you put me in might be happy, but it's meaningless without any of our past achievements!"

Maruki tries to argue that no hard work could get you your old friends and family back like he could, but you tell him they're just sock puppets performing on a stage. Even with all his new powers, you know those aren't and never could be your actual friends. Sumire also arguing that she wants to live her life in honour of her late sister and to make her proud through her own efforts, instead of trying to be exactly like her.

At the end of your speeches, you feel the power of your original personas combine to create something stronger, while Sumire's persona awakens into Ella. With them, together you destroy the bubble keeping you all contained.

You all head back to the real Leblanc, and the entire time their both celebrating finally getting you back, and teasing you for what they found in there. Though you can feel the underlying tension in the way they hold onto you and make sure you never leave their sight.

When you reach the cafe and the conversation goes silent, you all can no longer avoid the elephant in the room.

Goro's the one to bring up your disappearing act first, suspecting you knew that was going to happen and angrily asks why you didn't tell anybody.

Emotions are high on all sides of this conversation, but you're eventually able to get it through that yes, you had died, though technically you were already dead, your soul is tied to the Metaverse, so once it's destroyed by extension that includes you, one of the gods of this world told you so and unfortunately he's a trustworthy source.

They're not pleased in the slightest you kept this from them, but are still extremely confused as to why your life is connected to the Metaverse in the first place. There's no reason to hide anything from them, especially now, so you just come out and tell them everything.

They're wondering why you thought you had to keep this from them, and thinking about the answer it forces you to face the facts. This whole time you've been running away from your problems. You didn't want to think about dying, and you didn't ant to think about leaving your friends they way it happened, or about how guilty they must feel, or how you'll never be able to talk to them again. That life is over, but you avoided thinking about it after you got your own persona and threw yourself into this one.

You tell everyone as much and apologize. They're all completely distraught, but no one holds it against you.

Now that everyone knows this is most likely your last month to live, when you're not exploring Maruki's palace you always have at least one person with you.

The palace is also more or less the same. There are some rooms that take the aesthetic of a different palace, but it's still the same layout as it originally is. The real kicker is the shadows, that are basically all their modded variants.

The section in Mementos is also harder than usual. Unlike the other floors, this also added more difficult shadows in. You assume its because this is Maruki's personal addition. Fighting in both areas is extremely annoying, but much more doable than before with everyone's third tier personas, Ren finally getting access to some of the broken moves, and an overall increase in skill.

After handing Maruki the calling card, the walk to the top is slow. Everyone knows what will happen to you after, and prolong the confrontation to say goodbye before getting swept up in the fight.

In many ways, Maruki and Azathoth are harder to fight than Yaldabaoth. The false god had used the aliments you ended up bringing to the world, but Maruki is trying everything at his disposal. They basically use your memory against you, going in to find what annoyed you the most and using it in the battle. It ironically gets easier when they ultimately switch to that gigantic gold monstrosity. Especially once he resorts to just trying to punch all of you. You help the others block his next punch for Ren to shoot him in the face.

The palace starts to crumble and Ren falls further down with Maruki, while the rest of you end up in the Morgana-copter. Watching Ren beat the shit out of an older man in real time is funnier than you thought it would be, but all amusement is cut off when you start to fade away again.

It's another tearful goodbye, even more so on your end since Ren's not even there, but they all promise to never forget you.

You're just glad you got to say goodbye.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

AAaaaannd that's the gist of it. This ended up taking a lot longer then I thought it would, but that's my fault for constantly switching from describing the plot to "hey this scene is important I should make it sound important". Then it started getting too long so I had to cut things down lol.

Again, I am such a slow writer and I'm still rehashing plot points that don't really work + filling in gaps. This probably won't even be one to one once I finish it. My memory is dogshit and I think it's a little obvious where I'm forgetting what happened in the game and what I might need to change after I finish my *checks notes* seventh playthrough? Idk I feel like I've played this game both 0 and 100 times lol. This did help me flesh out certain plot points that were giving me a hard time though :)

Obviously there'd be more interactions in-between with the Phantom Thieves + Akechi & Yoshizawa. This is just going over the main plot, but there's a ton of bonding. I nearly have the whole timeline of events planned out (I put it all on a fckn calendar—) and Bug's constantly juggling who to spend their time with after getting past their "these people are characters that I can’t possibly befriend or be useful to in anyway" phase.

I've put the entirety of this group and their interactions in a microwave and they've been spinning for almost a year in my head. I don't actually think I'd ever finish this—and if by some miracle I do, I don't even know if I'd post it. I just gush over this so much I needed to share something about it, so here we are!

Here's a few more bits of this fic/au/interactions in my brain that happen in my planning document:

Bug is Joker's Aeon and Akechi's Fortune confidants

Bug has a special cognition in Kamoshida’s palace his shadow labels as "Temporarily Unattainable" or "Surprisingly Entertaining." Depends on if Bug is fem or masc I'm not sure yet.

Morgana sometimes calls Bug precious. No one will explain why and they don't think they want to know anyway.

In fact everyone has a nickname for Bug:

Joker’s is "my Aeon" and every cheesy soulmate term under the sun

Ryuji's is "Frosty"

Ann's is "Peaches"

Yusuke’s is "Muse"

Makoto's is "Angel"

Futaba’s is "Player 1" (Joker’s changes to either "Player 2/3" or "Protag" (also switches to "Glitch" when she's mad at Bug))

Haru's is "Bell"

Akechi’s is "Charm[y]" or "Luck[y]" (depending on Prince or Crow, though Crow will also use "Charmy" just to piss them off)

Bug is a pretty good crafter, and after they finally join the team they start making things for Mementos trips instead of buying. If this was a game mechanic it would be like asking Bug to make the gadgets you don't have time to, or getting them to make something only they can.

After a combination of Bug talking about their experience playing the game, the insane difficulty curve Bug's modding habits added to each palace, and Akechi being way stronger than the rest of the party when he joins, has turned Joker into a min-maxer. Whatever he has must be OP, and if something he really wants isn't, then he has to force it to be. If it's unattainable then he'll cry, get over it, and move on to the next strongest persona (He is devastated that Izanagi-no-Okami isn't actually an accessible persona for him. Bug regrets telling him.)

Joker never completes Maruki’s confidant. Unfortunately, Azathoth is a snitch, so it didn't matter anyway.

Bug is petrified of heights and that never goes away. Assume they're cowering like a baby whenever they're any substantial height above the ground. Unless they're facing Yaldabaoth. Then it gets pushed aside because they hate this guy more then their fear of heights.

Bug has a different rebel outfit for each persona (may or may not keep this. It was related to a plot point I might not write about anymore. It was waay earlier in the drafts lol)

When Bug gets Loki, Joker is a little sad that they couldn't brainstorm what their last persona could be together. Akechi may or may not have been a little smug over it.

Everyone's personas talk to them occasionally. Bug's head instantly gets more lively once Loki is added and they wonder how Akechi dealt with that for so long.

Bug does end up telling Futaba about the other Persona games and she becomes as well versed in the lore of the world as Bug is.

At some point Futaba also asked Bug who their favourite character was, which was the catalyst event to everyone constantly asking. Bug avoids the question each time.

I'm not sure if I'll write full length chapters for the spin-off games (or yk… at all), but they do happen and Bug takes every opportunity to gush over the other protagonists. They like abusing the fact no one will remember (even if they are sad they technically won't either)

#A Change of Fate #Persona x Reader #Ren Amamiya x Reader #Goro Akechi x Reader #P5 x Reader #Persona 5 x Reader #Anyone's welcome to send in an ask if they want to know more or have any ideas yourself!#Reader Insert #X Reader #Uchu.Writes #Uchu.Posts

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silkscream · 1 year ago

Text

CHAPTER 7: TOO YOUNG TO GROW WINGS

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, face sitting, blowjobs, cum eating (lol) lots and LOTS of angst, gore, blood, graphic descriptions of injuries, bullying, satoru being......... himself

ੈ✩ wc: 8.8k

ੈ✩ a/n: i wasnt gonna post this but then i was like well. i start a new job on monday so who knows if i'll be able to keep up the weekly update thing. this is also prob my fav chapter so i couldn't hold back OOPS enjoy the yaoi btw <3 title from angel by omar apollo

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2009

Jujutsu Technical College looks lovely in the springtime—the golden light hits the room in a specific way that makes your body warm. You’re calm, nearly dozing off until three people barge into the classroom, taking up as much space as they can. When you open your eyes, you see Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko smiling at you as they take their seats.

The boys had convinced you to attend (with the help of Shoko) after informing you there was a generous stipend included with your education. Despite the scholarship you’d gotten from the college you’d meant to attend, they had easily persuaded you. You hadn’t had friends you were so close with before, after all.

“Suguru. Switch with her.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it. I want her to sit next to me.”

You lift your head, realizing that Satoru is talking about you. Suguru laughs nonchalantly and stands up to switch with you, and you move to replace him when you notice Satoru’s baby blues searing into your skin. He grins at you brightly as you roll your eyes.

It’s been like this for weeks – Satoru possessing you, claiming you, even though you never ask for it. Truthfully, it pools your stomach with ardor. You’ve never felt as wanted as you do when you were within a close radius of him.

It dwindles eventually when you realize that the boys’ strength is so far beyond yours. In combat, they’re flawless, beautiful in their movements as they spar. You’re happier to watch than join—Shoko thinks the same, often rolling her eyes every time the two of you are assigned to practice hauling cursed energy for the sake of fighting. It’s nice when you can get her alone, studying healing techniques and watching her reversed curse technique grow.

Sometimes, you don’t even know why you’re here. Shoko is talented and you aren’t. You’re useful enough for superficial wounds, but you can’t do a reversed cursed technique. You doubt you could even heal something of a higher caliber than what you’re used to. You fear the prospect of this revelation on a mission that you know Yaga will eventually send you on.

“Do they ever fight over you?” Shoko asks over a cigarette.

“Wh-what?”

“You know,” she drawls, smiling. “Satoru’s such a brat. Suguru is more open when you’re around. They’ve gotta be possessive, right?”

You shrug. You don’t know the extent of what she knows, but you can assume from the boys’ behavior that it was written all over their faces. Satoru’s hand on your waist, Suguru’s point to tower over you. Unspoken proximity wars between them with you in the middle.

“I don’t know about that. They’re overprotective for sure,” you admit, taking a slow drag of her cigarette when she offers.

“Twigs! Not you, too!” Satoru bellows. “Don’t give my girl your cancer sticks, Ieiri!”

Shoko laughs at that, grinning with the cigarette in between her teeth as you fold your hands into your lap.

My girl.

Satoru hovers over you and holds out his hands. Curiously, you take it, which you regret immediately when he pulls your body and hauls you over his shoulder. You thrash a bit as he laughs until you’re stumbling onto the grass. When Suguru throws a staff in your direction, you catch it reflexively.

“Ready?”

You roll your eyes. You’d gotten better at sparring, though you still choose to hang back and concern yourself with areas of Shoko’s expertise. She had become a mentor to you despite being a peer. Meanwhile, the boys had been trying to get you to practice combat, thinking you would do well with a cursed weapon.

You remember the first time you had tried to fight, watching Satoru and Suguru wrestle in the grass shortly after. Their raspy grunts, the skin of their waists underneath ridden-up shirts. The memory makes you flush.

“Yes,” you sigh.

You focus on Satoru’s eyes, saturated like a lightning strike. You were rather well-versed in the language of his body – you think that your intuition often matched Satoru’s rather equally. He was still much taller and larger than you, but you exceeded in your efforts to dodge. He didn’t often bother with hand-to-hand combat much anyway, much more focused on perfecting his inherent techniques.

You gasp when he decides to close the distance between you. The touch of his fingers on your skin is a jolt to the senses as his legs sweep you when you’re too occupied with dodging. You hit the ground with a thud, groaning.

“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, leaning down to take your hand. When he does, you pull him backward so that he tumbles.

“Hey!”

“Payback,” you shrug. You maintain a fighting stance once again, staff in hand.

Suguru often took you more seriously, offering to teach you martial arts when Satoru was off on solo missions. You breathe heavily as Satoru takes his first swing, which you dodge by a hair.

Focused, you move with the grace of a ballet dancer, halting his movements with your staff the way Suguru had taught you. When you kick a leg high in the air, Satoru catches you by the ankle just for you to fall again. This time, you’re sure you’re bruised.

“There’s still time for you to give up,” he teases.

You groan in irritation, rising to your feet and walking closer to him. He smiles, enjoying seeing you pissed off and breathing so hard. He’s so wrapped up in looking at you that his senses are hit with whiplash – your fist gets through his Infinity easily and socks him square on the jaw.

“You little–”

“Why didn’t you have your Infinity on?” you exasperate, but he’s already pushing you to the ground and struggling with you the way you used to when you were children.

“I’m soooo gonna get you for that–”

You end up kicking him again, this time in the ribs as he groans. When you pin his wrists above his head, he merely stares at you with wild eyes and heaving breaths. His face is red and cherubic, and when he squirms, you squeeze his waist in between your thighs.

You lean down close to his face, your breath tickling his ear.

“I win,” you whisper. You flick him on the forehead and he flinches. You wonder again why he’s letting you touch him like this.

“Letting you pin me down isn’t me letting you win, sweetheart,” he rasps lowly, only for you to hear. He rolls his hips slightly and it makes your eyes widen, much to his satisfaction. You frown and crawl away from him just in time to hear Shoko beckoning you.

“Lab time!” she calls after you. Without a second look at Satoru, you follow her inside.

Satoru is lying on Suguru’s stomach, frowning because it isn’t as soft as yours.

He’s also without entertainment since Suguru has been hogging his DS for the better part of an hour, which Satoru had only let him do because he claimed he wanted to take a nap. But, as per usual, he can’t sleep. He’s still roused from sparring with you, slightly sweaty still from the warmth and the mustiness of the dorm room, and his cock is getting hard again just from thinking about you on top of him.

“Fuck,” Suguru swears under his breath, caught up in a game of Pokemon Emerald.

Satoru lifts his head to scoot his body higher, chin resting on Suguru’s forearm to peek at his progress.

“You’re doing terribly.”

“I know that, thanks,” Suguru groans. “I have like, two backup Pokemon left and they’re both level 30.”

“Do you use the same technique with your curses?” Satoru teases. Suguru makes another agitated noise again in response.

“You should’ve brought your Game Cube from home.”

Satoru shrugs, sighing as he sits up. He snatches his DS out of Suguru’s hands, interrupting the boy’s protest with a wet kiss to the mouth. Suguru kisses back immediately, tongue peeking into Satoru’s mouth before he pulls away.

“You haven’t kissed me in months,” he chuckles. Satoru shrugs.

“Maybe you haven’t kissed me in months.”

“I would’ve thought you’d count it as cheating.”

Satoru is quiet for a moment, rubbing Suguru’s jawline with his fingers gently. He’s been rather gluttonous lately, and he thinks Suguru is starting to catch on. He’s been clingier to the both of you, obnoxiously so, acting more of a nuisance to you specifically for the sake of attention. His heart is aflame whenever he sees you interact with Suguru in ways that are both good and bad, but he doesn’t prefer to dwell on it for very long before he nearly forces you to give him attention.

“Having withdrawals?”

“Huh?”

“She’ll be back soon,” Suguru laughs cruelly. “Whenever she’s gone for a bit, you act like you’re fucking dying.”

“No, I don’t,” Satoru frowns. But he knows he’s lying.

“Don’t mope. C’mere.”

Suguru sighs, seemingly out of pity. He grabs Satoru by the face and sticks his tongue in his mouth – a rough kiss out of spite, out of unbridled passion. He’d dreamt about Satoru and you for weeks, always sneaking glances.

He’d considered taking both of you months before when you and Satoru and Shoko threw him an impromptu surprise birthday party despite his refusal. He had seen you tipsy, squirming in Satoru’s lap while Utahime set up karaoke on the television, and decided he’d let you come to him when you wanted to. You were still a shy thing even after New Year’s, never asking again for his touch.

Satoru groans, palming his dick over his slacks as he leans back. He could feel his cock leaking in his boxers already just from the roughness of Suguru’s knuckles grazing his skin. There was a manic buzz in his head, thrilled by the slight power imbalance he was allowing.

Suguru hadn’t touched him since before he started seeing you, and even then, it was mostly rudimentary teenage lust. Jerking off to magazines together. Seeing how much they could take in their mouths before gagging like it was a competition.

“Fuck,” Satoru grunts, feeling Suguru’s tongue on his clavicle.

“You thinking about her?”

“Yeah,” he rasps.

Suguru chuckles darkly, biting harder at the bone. “She was so hot today. I taught her those moves, y’know.”

Satoru makes a mumbled nose, eyes fluttering shut as Suguru palms him. He unbuttons his slacks to reveal the snowy trail of hair above his pubic bone, Satoru’s cock flushed and weeping as Suguru holds it.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Use your mouth,” Satoru pants. He knots a fist in Suguru’s dark hair. “Want it like this.”

He hisses when he feels Suguru’s mouth. His jaw slackens at the feeling, gasping for air when Suguru hollows his cheeks to suck tightly. Satoru shoves him down further.

His body feels tight when Suguru motions a finger towards his hole, pausing to spit on his fingers beforehand. With two fingers stretching him open, Satoru pants and gasps. His thighs twitch, hips rolling upward into Suguru’s mouth like it was a cunt.

Your face flashes in Satoru’s mind and it makes his insides careen. Brain like pulped fruit. He opens his eyes to see Suguru’s, narrowed and golden and taunting. It’s similar to the way you look at him, sometimes.

The fist in Suguru’s hair tightens now, knuckles white. Satoru grunts brutishly, overwhelmed by the stimulation in his hole in tandem with Suguru’s tongue pressing on the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, gonna cum–”

Suguru moans, jaw aching only slightly. Satoru could feel his dick inside Suguru’s mouth, heat building up until he spills onto the boy’s tongue. His head falls back. Breathing like he’d just run a marathon.

“You need a better appetite. Shit tastes like battery acid.”

“Doesn’t all cum taste like that?” Satoru frowns. His hand is still in Suguru’s hair.

“You tell me.” Suguru kisses him, licking the inside of Satoru’s molars. His lips move against Satoru’s mouth slowly, listless so he can take himself. When he pulls away, Satoru wipes the slick off his mouth, plump and bitten.

“You’re exaggerating.”

May, 2009

The sky is oddly grey this afternoon despite the pleasant morning. Yamanashi prefecture is as beautiful as ever with cherry blossoms blooming, but as you approach the cursed site, you continue to feel a chill down your spine.

It’s your first real mission. One that Yaga had at least approved you for after you had nailed your physical assessments, able to imbue enough cursed energy into a katana to swing around without slicing yourself. Still, you were meant to act as backup for Suguru, which Satoru hated.

“Why don’t we just both go with her?” he had wailed to Yaga days before, to which Yaga grunted in dismissal.

“You have a solo mission.”

“But–”

“That’ll be the end of it, Satoru.”

Admittedly, you do wish he was here. Suguru is a comforting presence, though, calmer in demeanor but much less talkative than what you’re used to. You walk with him through overgrown grass and lengthy vines.

“What kind of curse are we supposed to find?” you question out loud.

Suguru shrugs. “It’s difficult to tell exactly, but I’m assuming the cursed spirits roaming around here will be, er, women-shaped? Maybe. It should be Grade 2 at most."

“What do you mean, women? What happened here?”

“You don’t know? This place is super haunted.”

“So we’re ghost-hunting.”

“Ghost exorcising,” Suguru grins. “There used to be gold mines here in the 16th century owned by the Takeda Clan. They also ran brothels for the miners. After the Battle of Nagashino, the clan had to give up the land, but not before they killed all the prostitutes to keep them from spreading information about the gold mines.”

“H-how did they kill them?”

“The miners had the women dance at a farewell party, then they hacked the vines that kept up the bridge they were on. They fell into the waterfall.”

“That’s horrible,” you frown. Foreboding swells in your chest.

You can’t sense any cursed energy around you other than Suguru’s. You’re too busy ruminating to watch your step, accidentally tripping over a thick root. You fall forward into Suguru’s arms.

“You okay?” he croons. His face is inches from yours and you forget how to breathe.

“Y-yes. Sorry.” As you untangle yourself from him, your body jolts. You gasp when you hear the hint of a wretched, bloodcurdling scream in the far distance that makes your blood run cold. It isn’t very loud, but it almost sounds muffled, like someone was screaming from another room.

“What? What is it?”

“Did you not hear that?” you whisper.

Suguru frowns at you in confusion, his expression seemingly genuine. You blink, trying to shake off the horrible feeling in your body.

“I think I just heard something. It sounded like a scream.”

Suguru waits, prompting you to elaborate. The forest seems darker now despite it being midday, the curl of the trees billowing in a way that feels uncanny. A girl-shaped forest.

“Maybe we should split up.”

“Absolutely not,” Suguru protests, his mouth set in a firm line. You hold his hand in yours, stroking it gently with your thumb.

“Suguru, you can’t expect to protect me the entire time. I need to learn how to handle things on my own–”

An inhuman gurgle rumbles from behind you. The curse looks similar to a reptile, yet human-like with webbed hands and sharp incisors slick with algae. The stench of mud is apparent in the air now. It drools green sludge before it bows.

You stand in shock, unsure of what to do as you lock eyes with Suguru. Warily, you draw your sword, and the curse’s eyes roll back in agitation as it lets out another gurgle.

“Oh, shit–”

You dodge a projectile of slime, but it crawls towards you at a faster pace than you expect. A slice of your katana dismembers one of its arms, but it easily grows back. Within seconds, a giant curse rises from the ground and swallows it up, teeth mashing on gooey flesh in a way that makes you want to hurl. Suguru’s ringworm curse is dismissed once the riverbank is cleared.

“What was that about not needing me to protect you?” Suguru sneers.

“I still mean it,” you exasperate, heart hammering out of your chest. “You barely gave me time.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you have the next one, I swear.”

He smiles genuinely. Satoru must’ve gotten to him – he’s not nearly as neurotic as Satoru in that way, but he wouldn’t be able to stand it if you got hurt. It was less of a possessiveness thing and more of a selflessness thing. Suguru had always been the one to be reliable. He was also more perceptive than Satoru in the way that he could practically feel the tightness of the leash he held on you.

If you were going to be something in the Jujutsu world, you wouldn’t be held back. Suguru thought you could be something ever since he saw you.

You continue to walk with him, knuckles brushing as the air turns thick. Suguru thinks that maybe you’re sulking in his periphery, so he pokes your cheek.

“Yes?”

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you mutter.

The katana feels heavy on your back. You had never thought of yourself as a particularly strong person, growing up to be obedient. A maid’s daughter. Hands a little rough from housework and the dirt of the Earth when you were wild, once.

“Let me walk around in that little brain of yours,” Suguru murmurs, always charming.

You pause, swallowing. You realize you have never spoken your insecurities out loud. When you were on the brink of it, it would always be during petty arguments with Satoru, who had a way of shutting you down dismissively. He was always a bit of a control freak, even with you.

“Do you think I’m weak?” Your voice sounds almost frail.

“Of course not. I think you’re very talented, actually,” Suguru says. “Satoru and I– we just care a lot.”

“I’m not sure if talented would be the word. It’s not like he thinks so, either.”

“He does. He just doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”

There seems to be something lingering in his tone that gnaws at you. The way he sighs. You decide not to pry, attempting to steer the conversation away from Satoru altogether.

You hear a wail again. Something in the shape of a girlish scream but only the echo of it. Suguru gives you that confused look at him and you aren’t sure if he’s just messing with you at this point. He touches your hand again and the motion makes you wince.

“What’s wrong?” He looks genuinely worried now as he looks at you, holding a hand to your jaw. That alone is mildly unnerving for some reason, even though you think that in any other environment, you’d welcome it. You place your hand over his palm.

“Do you really not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That woman screaming!” you hiss.

“Are you sure it isn’t some wild animal?”

You blink at him blankly.

“You don’t hear it.”

When he shakes his head, you hear it again. You begin to walk towards the source of it while Suguru stalks behind you, but you stop him.

“Maybe I should handle this.”

He grimaces, clearly unhappy. You raise your brows, challenging him. Suguru wants to hold you back but he knows he shouldn’t.

“Hey, another fucking– river monster could show up, and you’d be able to handle it. Maybe this is something that only I can see or hear. We’ll be too conspicuous with both of our cursed energy.”

He says your name with a hint of desperation and discipline, but you hold your gaze firmly.

“Okay,” Suguru sighs. “But if anything goes wrong, just yell for me, okay?”

You nod.

The tall grass tickles your legs as you move, which makes you thankful you decided to wear trousers instead of your usual skirt for the mission. Your hand grips the strap of your sword bag with anxiety. As you get closer, it’s as if the air is permeated with a smell that you can only describe as being in between sex and blood.

The scream you hear is louder now. You aren’t sure if it’s truly a hallucination, but it seems like the forest laughs back at you after. If you were a smarter person, perhaps you’d return to your partner. But you also assume that if you were to do that, you’d be a weaker person.

You walk over a wooden bridge that feels like it’s holding on by the barest thread. The creaking of the bridge beneath your weight adds to the unease that has settled in your gut. Every step forward feels like a gamble, a test of your bravery. The forest seems to close in around you, the trees whispering secrets you can't quite decipher.

A scream rips through the air and this time, against your better judgment, you follow it.

It’s punctuated with sobs and whimpers, getting louder and louder as you walk along the path. Cursed energy flickers in the shape of a girl. When you get closer, you see her.

A girl is sitting in a fetal position behind a tree, clutching her shoulder as she wails in agony. Her long black hair is matted and damp. She doesn’t seem to notice you yet, so you swiftly move to hide yourself between shrubbery to get a better look.

“P-p-please… help me…” she sobs. You choke up at the sight of her torn dress, hands and shoulder crimson with blood. She looks younger than you – no older than fifteen.

You grasp the strap of your sword bag tightly and cautiously as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen when she sees you. You aren’t sure if it’s a look of relief or fear.

“Hi there,” you say with a tremor in your voice. “What’s your name?”

“Akane,” the girl whimpers. Her face is pale with bruised lips.

“Akane. Are you lost? How did you get this injury?” You crouch down to meet her at eye level.

“Th-there was a man… I was trying to run away from him… but I’m in t-too much pain to keep going,” she breathes. “Please help me.”

You furrow your brows. You’re surprised that there was anyone in this forest besides those grotesque cursed spirits considering how abandoned and desolate the place was. The girl must’ve run far.

“Where are you from, Akane?”

“Tabayama.”

“That’s not too far from here,” you smile softly. “Let me heal you and my friend and I can get you back home, okay?”

You reach for her arm but she flinches and looks at you with unease.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “I’m a healer, see?”

Your cursed energy waxes and wanes within your palm like a luminous mist. You hover it over a superficial cut on your hand that you’d gotten from dealing with thorns earlier and the skin patches up like new. Akane watches in awe.

“I want to help you. Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nods her head apprehensively. You unwrap the saturated cloth from her shoulder, cringing at the sight of the gore and blood. You can’t quite envision the type of violence she’d just been through from the vagueness of her words, but you don’t want to make the poor girl explain in the midst of her trauma.

It’s more effort than what you’re used to – the wound is so deep that you fear that you’ll overexert yourself. You’d spent enough time in the lab with Shoko to improve your technique, but this time, it seems as if everything you’re doing isn’t enough. The skin on the girl’s shoulder is healing very slowly, and when you think that her condition is improving, another area of her body seems to bleed out.

“Maybe I should get my friend to help. He could take us to a hospital.”

“He?”

You look up to see Akane’s eyes grow cold. Almost lifeless, as if she’s looking through you. You hear the visceral sound of a limb breaking, the squelch of her organs. It seems as though her face is transforming right in front of your eyes, but it feels like an illusion – the way her skin looks decayed, the way her teeth grow sharper.

Akane – or what was Akane – cackles cruelly. Her cursed energy is overwhelming now, suffocating you. There’s a warbled cry that falls from her mouth.

“I’ll kill him.”

This is not a fucking Grade 2 curse.

You immediately get to your feet and swing your katana, but the curse blocks your attack easily. She’s also growing exponentially, no longer the size of a teenage girl and more like the river monster you’d seen earlier. She grabs you by the ankle, tripping you. A hack to the wrist with your katana makes the creature scream even more. You watch in horror as thick, black blood seeps out.

You yell Suguru’s name at the top of your lungs.

You see the Rainbow Dragon first, flying through the forest around you and the curse, but the nails on her other hand are strong enough to slice through the dragon’s hide. When you turn to lock eyes with Suguru, the curse lets out something in between a sob and a scream, shrill in your ears.

It seems as though she forgets you entirely, running head-first towards Suguru.

“I’ll… kill…. youuuuuuu!”

“No!” you screech, pulling her backward by the leg with all the strength you can muster. You slash the curse’s skin with your katana, making her wail, but she pins you down in retaliation with cuts to your arm from its sharp nails.

You hiss at the pain. You notice that her hair has transformed into its own entity, tentacle-like and razor-sharp as it slices through one of Suguru’s hound-like curses. She directs her attention back at him and aims for his neck, but you hold down a bloody hand onto her back as your hand pulls one of her sharp hairs back.

You cry out at the wound it makes in your hand, but your other stays pressed to the slimy flesh of her body. Your cursed energy ignites something unfamiliar in your body, something painful, but you imbue it into your touch with all you have.

She’s screaming. Or maybe you are. You can’t tell anymore – your head is dulling from expending more cursed energy than you ever have. It’s all dissonant to you. A horrific cacophony. You feel blood drip from your nose.

The curse’s flesh is rotting. As if the wounds she had when she appeared as a human were only rapidly progressing into decay, cells rupturing, body degenerating the harder you push.

It’s like she turns to mush. The corpse of the curse is barely recognizable anymore, just a puddle of chunky purplish-black blood.

You breathe heavily, looking up to see Suguru staring at you in shock. You try to give him a weak smile, but you don’t feel anything other than sick. Or maybe it’s numbness, at least for a few seconds as the forest is quiet again.

You double over and vomit. Your vision blacks out.

As a surprise to no one, Gojo Satoru is fucking livid.

He’s about to open his mouth but stops himself when Suguru gives him a look of disdain. There’s no one to yell at, except maybe Yaga, because why the fuck would he put you on a mission that could potentially involve a Special Grade?

“She’s fine,” Suguru affirms.

Satoru merely exhales through his nostrils, curling his hands into fists as he slumps down on the bench next to Suguru. He can’t help but envision your corpse, his brain reeling a horrific supercut of all the ways you could’ve been disfigured, maimed, bruised. Changed.

He realizes that the protectiveness over you he feels has turned into something ugly now that he knows you’re in the infirmary, something akin to fear, which is foreign to him.

It sinks into him like teeth down to the marrow, parasitic. He thinks of a faceless curse that he wants to tear apart with his bare hands. Satoru had tried to get over the desire to keep you in a cage, to keep you so unbearably close to him out of his own selfishness, but the feeling came back. He doesn’t know where to keep it other than lodged in his chest like a bullet.

“Did you absorb it, Suguru? Because I might need you to summon it later so I can get my fucking hands on it myself,” Satoru says, his voice low and seething through gritted teeth.

“No,” Suguru sighs.

Satord nods dumbly. Silence ensues.

“She killed it herself.”

You have dreams while you’re passed out. The curse you killed transforms its face from its teenage girl form and into others. You see Shoko, Suguru, Satoru. Everyone you’ve ever known. And when the skin of its face starts to rot the same way it did when you used your technique on it, you end up staring at yourself.

When you wake, it’s slow. The fluorescents in the infirmary don’t help. From outside of the room, you can hear hushed voices.

When you attempt to lift your body off the bed, you see Shoko sleeping in a chair next to you. Your bones ache, your skin stinging with the ghost of a wound. The cut on your palm from being slashed by the curse is a scar now.

You drop your head again, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to rest more. It’s too fucking bright in this room. Your breathing stills when you hear the door creak open.

“For fuck’s sake,” a voice bristles.

You hear another whispering Shoko’s name. Waking her, you assume.

“How is she doing?”

“She’s okay,” Shoko yawns. “Just sleeping. Her wounds were kind of deep, but I took care of it.”

A hand caresses your jaw gently, fingers stroking through your scalp. Your eyes blink open slowly to see Satoru grimacing above you. From the way the overhead light illuminates the back of his head, you think he almost looks like an angel. A makeshift halo shining on moonlit hair.

You notice the way he holds his fist tightly and the iciness of his gaze. It’s a fraction of rage, which makes you feel nauseous again. You’d seen that look on his face before, during the night of Shoko’s party. You wonder now, vaguely, what he looks like when he kills.

“Hey,” you mumble weakly.

“Hey,” he scoffs. “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”

“Satoru, let her be–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt. You rise, wincing at the soreness of your muscles. “Um. I… killed the curse.”

“So I’ve been told,” Satoru deadpans. His jaw is tense, but his eyes soften. He looks up, flickering his gaze between Shoko and Suguru.

Shoko clears her throat. “She used her technique. The healing part of it is based on cell regeneration. Apparently, it can also be used… the opposite way. It must've been activated by adrenaline, and then it was too much. Passed out from exhaustion.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, our technique is like a muscle, right? And she didn’t use hers very rigorously until now, so…”

“Right,” Satoru sighs, his voice clipped.

“I need a smoke,” Shoko rasps. “Do you need anything, baby?”

You smile weakly, shaking your head.

You can’t help but feel guilt snaking its way into your body. Even though you had exorcised a curse, your first actual achievement in Jujutsu sorcery, the bloodshed you’d experienced feels fruitless. You don’t feel very powerful at all, only monstrous.

It’s difficult to gauge what Satoru is thinking. He’s clearly upset about the fact that you got hurt, but you wonder if there’s more. If he resents you pulling a stunt like that and nearly killing yourself in the process—because what would you be if not his? Are you still his with bloodstained hands? Would he like you better now that you could prove to be strong?

It didn’t matter. He would always be stronger.

You hate the tension in the air. You can’t bear it. Maybe they’ll disperse once you get on your feet. There wasn’t anything left to do with your treatment since Shoko had tired herself with your wounds.

When you swing a leg over the cot and attempt to sit up straight, an invisible wall stops you. You glare at Satoru holding his hand out, palm outstretched inches away from your chest.

“No,” he snaps.

“Don’t do that,” you grumble. “I’m fine.”

He laughs but there’s no amusement in his tone. His eyes are cold again. Pools of ice.

“Right. You’re in fucking pristine shape.”

“Satoru,” Suguru warns.

“I– I can walk–”

“No,” Satoru repeats. “You’re hurt. Stop it.”

You look between Satoru’s hard gaze and Suguru’s frown and roll your eyes. You’re so tired, and overwhelmed with pain that transcends the physical kind. You can’t even put a name to it, the amount of emotions spilling out of you as you look at the two of them with mild desperation. You want to sleep for another twelve hours.

Irritation flares behind your face. You aren’t sure if you want to scream or cry for catharsis, but you stay quiet, trembling.

“I want to be in my bed,” you mutter.

Satoru lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while. Gently, he touches the nape of your neck, Infinity down. Laces his fingers in your hair in a sort of compromise. He moves his arm underneath your back with the other under your knees and lifts you, kicking off the blankets.

You curl into him, head on his chest. It made it hard for Satoru to breathe, for some reason, like something was stealing the air from his lungs. He nods to Suguru as a voiceless confirmation, watching his cursed energy flare. I’ll take it from here.

When he gets you into your room, Satoru releases you, placing you gingerly on the floor. Part of him wants to shake you by the shoulders, have you slap him across the face for reasons unknown to him. Something, anything other than the despondence of your limp figure. He can’t stand it.

“Satoru,” you whisper. “I’m sorr–”

“Don’t,” he strains. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing? Or is it just second nature to you?”

You say nothing.

He strips off your uniform, torn and battered. Still reeking of copper blood, the stench all too familiar, but not on you.

“I’m sorry for being mean. I was just worried,” he says. “I’m… proud of you.”

“Proud?” You look at him, dazed, as if this is the last thing you expect him to say.

He nods curtly, a sad smile on his face. “I always knew you had it in you.”

He picks you up again despite your futile protest, walking you to the attached bathroom. After turning on the faucet, he sits next to you, hand stroking your thigh gently in silence. He doesn’t look at you. He’s not sure if he can.

“C’mon. Up.” He taps your thigh once.

You’re still dizzy as you enter the bath, sighing at the warmth of the water. As you sink into the bath, a sense of relief washes over you, momentarily easing the tension in your body. A much-needed respite.

You feel Satoru trail his fingers around your collarbone, rising to feel your pulse. The rhythm seems to calm him as he soothes his palm over your shoulders and back. His touch is less urgent than it usually is.

He squeezes shampoo in your hair and threads his fingers through it, scratching your scalp gently, untangling the mess of you. He saturates a washcloth with soap, rubbing small circles over your limbs, lifting you like you’re a doll. It was funny—he had never had to take care of anyone other than himself before, but at the moment, he’s indulged in the small hums of pleasure you make, reveling in your comfort. Your trust.

He likes taking care of you. It makes him feel like he has a sense of control. He doesn’t want to indulge too far into it, knowing it’ll smolder a nasty part of him in some way. But the steam of the hot water makes his cheeks ruddy, and when you open your eyes at the feeling of his hand on your jaw, he can’t help but want to keep you.

Satoru turns your face toward him, cupping your chin as he leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens like a flower blooming, ready for him like always. He tries not to be rough despite the moan you tease out of him. Your skin is soft after he bathes you. His hands know carnage, but they also know you.

You break apart, looking at each other for a few seconds before he kisses you again. He pecks your mouth, nose, and cheeks, leaving you to scrunch your nose by the end. Laughing, he rinses your hair.

“Feel better?” he asks lightly. You nod.

“C’mon, baby. You’re gonna get all pruney in there.”

You’re perfectly capable of drying yourself off and putting on clothes, but Satoru seems eager to do it for you, so you stay limp in his arms. He’s being oddly affectionate as he babies you, which he never does. It’s usually the other way around.

With his hands on your waist, a dangerous thought flits through Satoru’s mind, but it dissipates when he fixes your hair to see you fresh-faced. You look young, innocent. Untouched by violence like he had known you before.

He takes you to the bed, where, despite the size of it, he manages to slot his body next to yours so he can curl into you. Head on your chest to listen to the murmur of your heartbeat.

You stay like this for a while, listening to each others’ breaths. You’re on the brink of sleep when you think you feel tears on your chest. Dampness on your cotton shirt, but only a little. Satoru exhales heavily, squeezing the meat of your side. You’re feeling a little too warm from the proximity but don’t have the heart to untangle yourself. You close your eyes.

“I love you.”

You aren’t sure if it’s a whisper in your dreams or not.

June, 2002

You both had matching bruises. Green and yellowish like snot.

The summer was changing you and Satoru in a way that held gravity. Satoru’s body was growing more and more, handsome like the beautiful child he’d been when you first met him, and you were a purgatory. Something girlish. Something ghostly.

Your mother had reprimanded you last week for coming back with a bloody knee, scolding you for rough play. The expiration on your youth seemed to be ticking from the way she chastised you about your shared misbehavior with Satoru – you were meant to grow into something polite and womanly.

Satoru had scoffed at the notion when you told him. He liked that you weren’t obsequious to him like everyone else in his life who treated him like a little prince.

Unfortunately, you’d pave the road of your abjection all by yourself later on.

He still thought of you as the only person who understood him. He was your first friend, your only friend for a while, and you were his. You’d count stars with him. Catch fireflies and make wishes on them. Wear each other’s clothes before his growth spurt.

You’d clung to each other for years—it was difficult to tell which one of you was the parasite. Despite this, sometimes you think Satoru hates you. Sometimes he makes you cry, especially with how apathetic he can be. You blame his stoicism on his upbringing, but there are times that you feel like an afterthought, only exacerbated as he grows older and into something of worth.

At age twelve, it’s difficult for you to believe that you could be anything similar.

Your young ferocity gets minimized to meekness at school. There’s hair-pulling, harder than Satoru’s ever done to you. Stolen lunches. Spitballs to your back. Your face kissing pavement.

“What happened to you?” Satoru asks, narrowing his eyes at the sight of your split lip.

“I fell.”

He’s forceful when he drags you to him. He’s too tall for his age, towering over you with cold blue eyes staring down at you. You flinch when he touches your cheek with his hand.

“You’re lying,” he frowns.

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

He doesn’t pry after that, but he does force you to clean the cut with hydrogen peroxide, which is ironic considering how little he cares about his own cuts and bruises from his private training.

On the playground the next day, you’re targeted again, reaching desperately for your backpack that’s stolen straight from your hands. A kick to the shins has you scraping your palms when you try to ground yourself. Your hands sting as they bleed. You gasp when you feel another kick to the stomach, a cruel round of laughs taunting you.

But then, you hear them gasp. The sound of knuckles hitting bone.

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Satoru lifts you up by the hand and holds you by the shoulders. He picks the debris out of your hair.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs. He ignores the tears on your cheeks. He’ll wipe them away later along with the dried blood in your palms.

You’ll shower in his bathroom, mind blank under the hot water. He’ll see your silhouette through the peek in the door, and his stomach will lurch in a new way. He won’t be able to look at you for a week after.

June, 2009

He comes to you at night a little drunk. You’re surprised Satoru didn’t warp this time – you’re used to seeing him in the blink of an eye right before you go to sleep just because he doesn’t want to sleep in his own room. Sleep is hardly a thing for him anyway – his insomnia has gotten a bit worse over the years, so he prefers to play on his Nintendo DS quietly as he strokes your hair.

“You actually knocked?”

He shrugs as he moves past you to flop his long body onto your twin bed. You look at him in question. He doesn’t answer, only gesturing for you.

“Come over here,” he slurs.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not–” he hiccups, “at all.”

“Satoru,” you berate.

“Okay, maybe I went a little crazy with the Dirty Shirleys. Needed a drink after the stupid fucking mission Yaga sent us on.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking this much. It’s a weekday.”

He mocks you and settles a hand over your waist. You notice the calluses on his hands, ironic considering he can never let anything touch him. But you can.

He sits you on his lap, rubbing your shoulders carefully. “How’s your night been?”

“Shoko made me watch Audition,” you frown.

“Oh. I love that one.”

“Of course you do,” you sigh, “Nothing scares you.”

You aren’t wrong. After assassination attempts and countless wretched curses thrown Satoru’s way, nothing could make him flinch anymore.

“You scare me,” he pouts, undressing himself. Always staking his claim on you in this way – he wouldn’t leave if you asked, and you know that you won’t.

“I highly doubt that.”

“You should yell at me more. It’s kind of a turn-on when you’re mad.”

You roll your eyes as you turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness if not for the light of the moon and the annoying brilliance of Satoru’s eyes. Even his hair seems to glow in the dark, head dipped in starlight.

As you lay on your side, you feel Satoru’s palm undulating your bare thigh, tickling you under the hem of your t-shirt. He breathes in the scent of your neck.

“You have goosebumps,” he mumbles against your hair. “Gonna get nightmares from the movie?”

“No.”

“I’ll protect you,” he giggles boyishly, body overheating with want.

He sucks on your neck, hand parting the plushness of your thighs. You keen at the feeling of his teeth and tongue, gasping at his large fingers sliding your panties to the side to prod your cunt.

“This is all I could think about today.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Kept thinking about all those sounds you make. Kept thinking about your face.”

“You shouldn’t—ah—let yourself get so distracted on your missions.”

He laughs. “Whatever. Killed all those fuckers in less than ten minutes anyway.”

Satoru keeps you pressed to his chest, his other hand grasping your breast. You feel his dick hardening behind you as he plays with your cunt, fingers knuckle-deep inside you. It didn’t take him long to find your spot the way he had you memorized. Your eyes shut tightly as you moan. Stars knock around your head.

He turns your face toward his and licks at the seam of your lips, tongue roughly licking the inside of your mouth. Your body tingles at the sound of his groans. He holds you by the chin, hand slipping around your throat to hold you in place so he can take in every detail of your face.

You flush under his gaze, how his blown-out pupils outweighed the ocean blue. His pink mouth is parted and breathing out, zephyrs of maraschino cherry tickling your face.

You cry out when he pins you down, sinks his cock into your wetness. A wounded sound. It makes him shiver, makes him think about you on that dingy cot a month ago in the infirmary. Satoru was about ready to avenge you in any way he could, back then, even when you weren’t even half-dead. He’d reshape mountains. Drown the whole city of Tokyo with his bare hands.

In the way he holds you with bruising force, rutting into you like a devoted dog, he decides that he will be the only person to hurt you. The only one who should, knowing that even with his regrets and jagged ways of caring, no one else should lay a finger on you except him. He’d never hurt you in a violent way, unless his passion had counted. If devouring you counted, which it probably did, he would be content with his selfishness if it meant you were safe.

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

“Made for me,” he whispers. “You were fucking made for me.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

He splits you open, spearing into your gut as he mumbles praises lowly into your ear. Your cunt pulses at the sound of his voice. He thrusts into you harshly, making blood rush to your head.

“You make me feel insane,” he grunts. “Used to think about you like this in high school. You were so fucking stubborn, refusing to give me attention.”

“You were a brat,” you flush. “Still are.”

“Your brat.”

“Mine,” you hum.

He groans at that. He’s so deep in you, drowning in syrupy velvet. He liked it when your body made him feel like this, like he was levitating. He wasn’t Gojo with you, always Satoru, always just a boy. He’d be content in this infinite spiral, swapping spit in between tongues and fucking into you until you cried. Your body is sacred. You made him forget himself when he needed to.

You like when he carves you out like this, your cunt a shrine for him at this point. You moan at the loss of him, watching through glassy eyes as he stumbles, fixing your body in between his knees.

“Wanna see my pretty girl’s face,” he groans. He’s annoyingly rough when he enters again, but you love it. He says your name like it’s a prayer.

Your head buzzes as he thrusts into you faster this time. His hair sticks to his face, tickling your cheek as he bites into your neck. Midnight vignettes blur your vision.

“Wish you’d let me have you earlier,” he pants.

“Fucking me for the past year wasn’t enough?”

He shakes his head. “Wish I lost it to you. I was thinking about you during it, too.”

“Satoru,” you whine.

He means it. He was already blunt as could be, but alcohol made him over-honest. He liked that his candor made you blush.

“Would you have let me fuck you?” he teases. “When we were fifteen?”

“No. You were even stupider then.”

“So mean to me,” he chuckles, rolling his hips more aggressively. He revels in watching you squirm. “I would’ve worshipped you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. Nails cross-hatching the length of his back.

“I would’ve.” I will.

He kisses you open-mouthed like it’s a promise, pulling your hair in the process. The room was starting to get hot, that June humidity unforgiving, even at night. You’d have to open a window later. His body makes yours swelter, skin melting into skin like he’s trying to fuse the both of you into one thing. Like that Greek myth about two halves of a soul.

“Fuck, ‘m so close,” he whimpers. “You feel too good. Shit, I wanted to make you beg.”

“Sounds like you’re the one begging,” you exhale.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Want you. You’re killing me. Fuck.”

He spills inside of you at the same time you cum, the heaviness of his low groans making your brain break. He’s still drunk, head swimming with every part of you. Above you, he sports that fallen angel look again, eyes gleaming with rapture. Prodigious as he was, he worships you instead, blessed with love bruises adorning his shoulder.

Satoru always liked to fuck you like it was the last day he’d ever have you. Tonight is no different.

He exhales at the juncture of your neck, soothed by your hands in his hair. He lifts his body up, kissing your collarbone before he descends to your belly. You tremble at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt.

“Satoru, I can’t–”

“Please?” he pouts, his breath tickling your clit. “Wanna taste you. All mixed up with me.”

Heat rises to your face violently. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

“You made such a mess,” you grumble.

“I’ll clean it up,” he grins.

You let him. His sharp mouth never lets up, anyway.

“Wait! Sit on my face.”

“I can’t even feel my legs,” you pout.

He whines your name. “I had such a tough mission today, baby. You don’t think I deserve it?”

“Spoiled,” you mumble as you switch positions with him. Below you, he looks feral in the eyes, over-eager. Hungry like a wolf even after fucking you hard.

You gasp when he pulls you down, slotting your thighs on each side of his head while he starts to taste you. Licking up into your cunt, moaning at the taste of himself and the sweetness of you. He grips your ass, guiding your movements like the ebb and flow of a wave. You shake above him.

“Jesus.”

You feel him laugh, the vibrations tickling your clit.

“Annoying slut,” you call him. He seems to enjoy it, thinking of it as praise considering how loud he groans. It almost embarrasses you.

That familiar feeling twinges in your core again.

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He latches his mouth on your clit and you think you might burst. Maybe crumble and fly away in the wind like a dandelion.

He continues to suck on you as you ride out your orgasm, your thighs trembling. When he gets up for air, his eyes are blown out wide, drunken smile on his face as if he’s peaking. Chemical reactions in his blood.

“So good for me,” he grins, kissing you on the mouth. Your heart flutters.

His gaze is still searing into you. Looking at him hurts, sometimes.

Satoru presses into you, curling into your neck again. His heartbeat reverberates throughout the room. Tenderness floods the both of you, bodies slotted together like he wants to make a nest out of you.

You’re exhausted with heavy lids. Satoru strokes your skin until you fall asleep, careful fingers soothing the places his mouth had been. Divine wounds. Like a devotional dog with teeth too sharp and love larger than his body, Satoru will be the only one to hurt you.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #geto suguru x you #geto x you #satosugu smut #gojo x geto

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

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I can’t stop laughing cause I remember the video Yuki made for max congratulating him on being coming a dad I can totally see him doing that!! Oh my god Yuki the adorable menace saying “congrats big daddy. I can’t wait to meet your baby!” Oh I just thought that would be perfect with this announcement 😂😂😂

Ahhhh the grid knows about the baby!!!! 😂😂😂 they all are fighting over godparents rights. I can see Emilie already being picked as god mom. I don’t know who the god dad would be though maybe lewis or Fernando or Carlos or Seb or Kimi maybe I say them because they’re more level headed when it comes to something of those responsibilities

Here’s my list of what I think is yes good for baby and no baby for them

Lando… he’s self explanatory

Lance no

Daniel… would need supervision

Kimi yes

Lewis yes

Carlos yes

Fernando yes

David C maybe

Nico H maybe leaning towards yes

Nico R possibly

Esteban maybe

Oscar yes more so than Lando

George yes

Alex maybe

Seb yes

Checo Yes

Zhou maybe with supervision

Logan no baby would come back with a cowboy hat and an American flag onesie

Valtteri maybe

I’m so excited for belle I’m really hoping it’s a boy cause I can see that little one adoring horses ride the colt Galahad when he’s they both are of riding age.

Also I noticed that Charles didn’t comment under belles recent post which means he’s taking step to give her space hopefully and letting what it means sink in fully. Alex is slowly redeeming herself hopefully Charlotte will also make an appearance at some point to apologize and maybe have a sit down with belle wirhout Lorenzo hovering close by. Arthur is doing amazing and being the brothers who’s stepping up and making an effort to realize his mistakes and truly be there for his sister.

I loved every second of this chapter and I am just so excited for the baby!!! Ahhh Galahad is born and is the new beginning belle needed for her horse journey once more.

Sorry for the ramble but I had to say something about this masterpiece of a chapter

Your message is the exact energy I needed today — absolute ✨masterpiece ramble✨ energy.

First of all, “Congrats, big daddy!” from Yuki is 1000% canon in this universe and I’m now officially adding it to my brain. That man would record a video on a whim, send it to the wrong group chat, and just go, “oops” while everyone else spirals.

Your godparent rankings?? Impeccable. Logan absolutely returns the Verstappen baby in full Stars & Stripes regalia, and I haven’t stopped laughing at that visual. And your top picks (Emilie + one of the Level Headed Uncles™) are chef’s kissperfect — I love that you included Kimi, Seb, Lewis, and Fernando especially. If it turns into a grid-wide custody battle over the godfather title… I fear Max may need a helmet.

Also yes to the colt Galahad and a little boy Verstappen growing up together?? Come on. You're absolutely right: that’s the new beginning Belle never got to have before, and now it’s hers.

And you nailed the read on Charles, Alex, and Arthur. Charles may finally be getting quiet — and for once, maybe he’ll actually listen. We’ll see. 👀

Thank you so much for this — your excitement is contagious in the best way.

#c answers #white horse

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solcohedron · 2 months ago

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Realized that I never got around to explaining my classpect post (oops)

Hasegawa Ken - Prince of Void

So, Hasegawa definitely mirrors light—most clearly in the way that light represents knowledge (yadda yadda quiz show guy) and in the way that he pursues it: he’s the only person to find out about the audience and the other killing games. The main reason that I don’t think that Hasegawa’s directly Lightbound, though, is because of how he’s presented in the story—Light players are big actors in the story that they’re in, and as a result, they’re often in the spotlight. Look at Rose, Vriska, Aranea—these characters lay themselves out to the camera, we see their thoughts, plans and fears. They love to yap about everything, including themselves.

Hasegawa, on the other hand, ducks out of the spotlight as much as he can. He’s a pretty unassuming guy that keeps to the background, both in canon and towards the audience. He doesn’t really have that “stage presence” that Light players typically have, and while we know that he can talk a lot on other topics that interest him, we never really see him talk about himself and his thought process in the way that Light players do—barring the final minutes of the fifth trial, of course. It might be a reach, but we could view that as kind of a swan song, where by answering the ‘why’ of his actions, he finally destroys the secrecy and ambiguity surrounding himself.

If we take a look at the Prince side of things, I mean—destruction through void? Destruction through secrets and mystery? Just take a glance at literally any part of chapter 5, that’s basically all he does! Something I want to highlight here is that one Ojima ‘grabbing’ scene, because besides it being super cool, it’s also a direct example of how the inherent vagueness of the medium is exploited to ‘cover up’ what’s actually occuring–super Voidy stuff!

We also see a lot of destruction of Void—Ken, like, hates Void. Like stated before, Ken abhors a mystery, and spends a huge chunk of time trying to dig deeper into the killing game. Ironically, it’s this drive for understanding, and the acquisition of that knowledge, that (at least partially) breaks him apart, which is where we get that one really good line about ‘knowing’ near the end. (It’s also a very cosmic horror-coded line, which is another theme of the Void aspect, but I digress.)

So, yeah! TL;DR: Hasegawa mirrors light, but embodies a lot of Void-y aspects through the way the audience perceives him and Prince-y aspects through the way he interacts with that Void.

#targeting that niche between homestuck readers and tetro viewers. I know you guys are out there #first publicly posted analysis I'm bit nervous. sorry if it's a bit scattered #this took a while so I don't think I'll do one for every character #but if people ask I'll definitely talk more about some other tetro classpects #or for clarification on Hasegawa! I don't think I was fully able to articulate my reasons why I think that he's a prince #but part of that is because I haven't read homestuck in a while so my knowledge is a bit rusty 😞#tell me your thoughts!! especially if you think I'm wrong I really want to hear different perspectives #tetro danganronpa pink #tetro danganronpa spoilers #classpecting #hasegawa ken #prince of void

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halfratsalready · 6 months ago

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Reflecting On My 2024 Fics 💕✨

When this year started, I hadn’t published a fanfic in well over 5 or 6 years. By the end of the year, I’d published 7, including 3 one shots, 3 completed multi chapter fics, and 1 in-progress multi chapter fic (that I admittedly haven’t touched in a while, oops). I also organized my first ever fic exchange this year! I loved being able to bring people together to share stories with each other and am so glad I stepped out of my comfort zone by hosting an exchange, so much so that I hosted another one later in the year!

I’m not the best or most prolific writer here - not by a long shot - but I’m pretty happy with what I’ve done and am so grateful for this community’s response to my works! In honor of that, here’s a little reflection on what I’ve written this year :)

(Featuring a sneak peek or two at what I’m working on next…)

Breaking Down 🥀

(March 18th. 1 chapter. 2k words. 21 kudos. 1 comment.)

My first fic in 7 years, first ever Just Dance fic, and first fic on AO3! The start of my tendency towards Jack Rose angst! Based on a Florence + The Machine song! This is a short one shot that I wrote in a very stream of consciousness manner. It’s not exactly my best work, but it holds a special place in my heart for all the milestones it represented for me.

Lose Yourself ✨

(March 22nd-April 5th. 5 chapters. 16.5k words. 95 kudos. 45 comments.)

Oh, Lose Yourself, where do I even begin with you? This fic genuinely changed my year, all for the better. I was absolutely terrified to post this. I was new to the fandom, publishing a fic amongst so many other incredible works by incredible writers, and to top it all off, it was my very first time publishing a ship fic. It was also my first time publishing a series. I had debilitating anxiety for days because I was scared to publish actual ship content. The response to this fic was absolutely incredible and I am still so, so grateful to everyone who read it and left feedback. This series was also the first time I ever received artwork for any fic I’d written. Genuinely, this was sort of a life changing experience for me, as silly as it may seem.

Close to Post-Mortem 🥀

(April 12th-April 26th. 5 chapters. 17k words. 71 kudos. 39 comments.)

Part two of the Lose Yourself series and my second (and much darker) foray into the world of Jack Rose angst, as well as my first time really getting to write Night Swan. This is the fic that made me realize how much I love writing the dynamic between Jack and Night Swan, and just writing Night Swan in general. While generally the least popular of the Lose Yourself series and probably my third favorite (not that I don’t like it, I just like the other two better), this fic is special to me for showing me how much fun I have writing angst and how much I love writing these characters. Also, it’s the first instance of my personal favorite AO3 tag of mine- “turning people into terrifying mind controlled bird minions left right and center,” which gets it a ton of bonus points in my book.

Fail Me Not ✨

(May 3rd-May 20th. 6 chapters. 38.2k words. 92 kudos. 39 comments.)

This fic is so special to me. It closes out the initial Lose Yourself trilogy (because I decided that I want to continue the story through Dance With the Swan and hope to do so one day) and represents the first time I actually finished a fic series (technically not because there’s more to come but I finished the original plan so I’m counting it). The feedback I received for this fic was so kind and I’m so grateful for everyone who left a comment at any point in this series. I’m really proud of the Lose Yourself series and am so happy that so many people liked it!

To Form A New Dynasty 👑

(For Frostyblustar. July 14th. 1 chapter. 21k words. 36 kudos. 14 comments.)

This novella (never intended for it to have that high of a word count - it was supposed to be a simple one shot) is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I had so much fun coming up with the lore of this version of the Danceverses and exploring this dynamic. I loved writing Night Swan and her dynamic with Jack and writing Si’Ha and writing Jack and Wander in this new dynamic and wow I just really enjoyed writing this fic, as stressed as I was about the ridiculously high word count at the time. @frostyblustar’s prompt allowed me to write something I never would have thought of otherwise, and I loved working on it so much! This was also my first time hosting a fic exchange and I’m so happy with how it went and the incredible fics that came of it! Hosting this exchange was a great time and I’m so glad that so many people participated and had a great time!

The Wrong World ✨

(July 19th-Present. 1/9 chapters. 4.8k words. 33 kudos. 10 comments.)

I published the first chapter of this fic shortly before a bunch of things in my personal life erupted into chaos, and it kind of got pushed to the side and more or less forgotten, but I am working on getting back to this fic! This is probably the most comments I’ve ever gotten on a single chapter of a fic and the support for it was overwhelming. I really do love the story I’m telling and am excited to work on it more. This one is special to me, even if it’s been neglected for a while. This is my first non-Lose Yourself series multi chapter fic and I was so happy to know that people were excited about it. Thank you, everyone, for your support on this fic- I promise you that more is coming in the new year!

Gather Near To Us 🎄

(For Doodling_Doodle. December 15th. 1 chapter. 7.8k words. 5 comments.)

Despite being the calmest and fluffiest of all the fics I wrote this year, this one was somehow the most stressful. I agonized over this one and finished it with about eight minutes to spare… yeah, it was rough. Considering I’m not used to writing fluff, I’m not too unhappy with how it turned out, but I wish I’d been able to give it the time and energy it deserved without being distracted by a lot of craziness in my life. Without the adorable prompt from @doodling-doodle, I wouldn’t have stepped out of my comfort zone and tried writing fluff, so I’m very grateful that I had the opportunity to challenge myself with something new. This was also my second time organizing a fic exchange and I’m genuinely so happy to know how many people love these exchanges! I hope to organize more in the new year!

What’s Next…

I can’t promise when anything I’m working on will be completed and ready to publish, but I’m slowly but surely working on…

The rest of The Wrong World

A one shot prequel to the Lose Yourself series

One of the projects I’m most excited about!!! A dark murder mystery featuring Edgar Allan Poe references and buddy cops Brezziana and Discoball! (Don’t expect this one anytime soon, though - even if I finish it soon, I’m planning on posting it throughout October for spooky season.)

A ghost AU??? 👀

One last thank you to everyone who read any of my fics, to everyone who left kudos or a comment, to everyone who reblogged my posts about these silly little fics, to everyone who made posts about these silly little fics, to this entire fandom for welcoming me into it and allowing me to be a part of it. I’m so happy to be here and to have such kind people to share my works with! Happy New Year, everyone!!! 💕✨

#oboe rambles #just dance fanfic #just dance fandom #lose yourself series #the wrong world #jd holiday fic exchange #wanderrose fic exchange #just dance

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googleitlol · 9 months ago

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Sorry if my thoughts are all jumbled here. Or if it doesn't make sense. I'm also kinda being vague here cause these are kinda in the beginning stages of forming to proper theories.

But first of all, thanks for answering my question and indulging me.

Also sure I'll share a little bit of my theories here. Once again, you don't have to confirm or deny these. Hell, you don't have to answer this if you don't wanna.

I had a feeling since the title and the dove symbolism kinda went together, there would be at least some surface level nods to it, but now that there's confirmation that there's more reason behind the dove transformation I can kinda go into my little "theory" (more or less speculation). Not really connected to the stories ending too much that I know of buuuuut, I've just been thinking what enlightenment would be for Dove herself since everyone is going through their respective character arcs to achieve enlightenment in the end. I'm also keeping in mind the love symbolism from this creature, even though it's not really symbolism from religion and more so a universal thing across multiple cultures, as a possible significance.

But also, these little teasers with the endings and the one shots here got me (oop here comes more theory and speculation) thinking about what the hell happened. Cause the heavenly court and Buddha don't seem to be the "badguys" in this story. So i kinda figured a 3rd party got Dove separated from the group somehow since everyone else (allegedly) got to stick together. So something really bad definitely happened here, and either Dove is going through some corruption arc or someone else is pulling at some strings here. But nooooow, I'm inclined to believe the latter, if not this 3rd party, causing the corruption arc. These are just things I kinda think about in 2 possible endings. I hope this all makes sense.

I could be waaaaaayyy off though so yeah

Oh, you know I'm gonna answer these! Also, I'm glad you caught onto some of this!

Love is definitely a big part of Dove's character arc, tho it's more of a catalyst for what she has to realize. Dove at the start of the journey isn't really… her own person. Or at least, she wants to change herself to be more like the person who saved her. It's like she thinks there's some moral obligation she has to follow in Guan Yin's steps, and as her relationship with Sun Wukong develops, she starts to question that.

Your other thoughts on what happens near the end… muahahaha…

I've mentioned it in passing so I won't try hiding it, there's another party involved in PoM. They don't get too involved until after the Red Boy arc, which is lowkey why I decided to start posting to AO3 after I finished with those chapters. Everything from the start of PoM to Wukong realizing his feelings can be considered… the first act of my little soap opera. This third party doesn't become more prominent until Act 2.

Technically, the third party has been causing problems since the prologue. They're just chilling cuz one of them doesn't know about the journey yet while his accomplice… she knows about the journey, she just gives less of a fuck. But when they decide to take action, stuff gets fun (stressful and full of agony). I'm excited to get to them, who they are, their backstory and powers, EVERYTHING! UUUGGHHHWVBOJNVUSBDCS I WANNA TALK ABT THEM SO BAD–!

ahem, anyway–

As for your theory about a 'corruption arc'… depending on how I end PoM, Dove may or may not cross a line she wouldn't have crossed at the start of the pilgrimage. The fun part is, the ending I consider the 'good ending', the one where she doesn't get separated from her friends and loved ones… is where she crosses that line. If Dove kept trying to be like Guan Yin, she would never think of going down that road. So in that good ending where she stops trying to be someone she's not, and the ones who helped her get to that realization are put in jeopardy… she has no hesitation.

#at least dove would be able to question her morals with wukong and the pilgrims by her side 🫶#better than being forced into solitary with questions of 'what if i did it?' plaguing her mind #sun wukong x reader #little dove asks

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bloopitynoot · 9 months ago

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Reading SVSSS: Chapter 10

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

I am so stoked for this chapter! I've been really getting into the story to the point that I want to read multiple chapters per day (I COULD but I also want to be able to take notes- so I cannot realistically with the amount of hours in a day I have) BUT I will continue with one a day.

Normally I have hot drinks while reading, but I am dehydrated as fuck, so take this as your (mostly mine, but also your) reminder to drink some water.

Let's get into it!

Wait! Like three seconds in and we are starting off strong! How can Sha Hualing control Shen Qingqiu??? p213

Holy shit, even in his new body he's being poisoned. I suppose, theoretically, if there is a person who never gets poisoned, there must be a person, statistically, who always get's poisoned. p214

Shen Qingqiu (probably): if I had a dime for every time I had demonic blood poisoning me I would have two, and that's not a lot, but fucked up it happened twice. LOL

also Shen Qingqiu (probably at this point): "and this is how I was abducted and then became a qi sex slave for a half demon cultivator" p214

Omg also, the fact that Sha Hualing tried to plant a fake SQQ to try and appease Luo Binghe. RIP to her this time for almost (accidentally) doing it again. no wonder Luo Binghe is so pissed! pp216-217

Oh god. SQQ probably doesn't die here but it would be equally terrible and funny if after all of this, second body and all, like less than 2 days in, Luo Binghe just accidentally destroys SQQ. immediate end of story p217

Well- the system is now fixed! p220

and now shen qingqiu is wearing basically a veil, oh my. p222

(Okay unrelated but related to the veil, I desperately need some arranged marriage au's. I am so ready to read the heck out of this pairing when I'm done the books).

I have a sneaking suspicion that this man (SQQ) does a terrible job of hiding his identity. "he just had to be especially careful so Luo Binghe didn't discover that he'd pull off a great escape using the Son-Moon Dew Mushrooms". p222

He really needs a better name than peerless cucumber. LOL I can't every time he introduces himself. p223

oh no, baby Luo Binghe has been mourning this entire time. p224

You know what, I'm not even mad that Little Palace Mistress is in this awful state, she is a vile character that has not grown on me at all. p226

Yeah Shen Qingqiu he definitely did not end up with any of the women because he has been super mourning for you my guy. (not that he knows this because he is oblivious af) pp228-229

Oh. My. God. This man really thinks that Luo BInghe is asexual. I can't wait till he finds out. LOL p230

Oooo! Another dream realm sequence p231

oh and we have two SQQ's (again I need this fanfiction)

aaaaaah luo binghe has clocked the real SQQ p236

Okay okay, he thinks this SQQ is part of the dream and does not know he is indeed the real deal. thank fuck for SQQ's sake I guess p236-237

Oop. now this guys is "yes and"ing Luo Binghe in the dream. Oh gosh I hope this ends alright. p237

The head pats! p238

OH MY GOD p239

DREAM REALM KISS??????!!!!!!!!!!!!! p239

(AHAHAAA his face in the art tho)

LOL the system p239

Bro just found out why Luo Binghe had no wives and is GOOPED. He really found out in the worst of ways for him ahahahahahahahah I am CACKLING p241

I truly don't know how these two end up together with SQQ not vibing at all. is it Stockholm syndrome? like I genuinely do not know how SQQ ends up realizing his emotions for this man.

SQQ is literally saved by the bell in this one. p242

Liu Qingge is here?!?!? has he been trying to avenge SQQ this entire time? p243

Ah, Fuck!

SO MANY THINGS HAPPENED.

We have a kiss, we have a SQQ now trying to be sneaky, I honestly don't know how this man is going to stay hidden- if at all.

And next chapter we have a showdown ?!?!?!?

#bloopitynoot reads svsss #svsss spoilers #mxtx svsss #svsss #YALL #I am still reeling over that dream kiss #SQQ is going to need to figure out his shit and fast #scum villain #scum villian self saving system

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bitkahuna · 6 months ago

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“Blaise Zabini?” Ron asked in a harsh whisper. “Mate, why?”

Hermione soon made her way through the fleeting crowd of girls to join him. “Please tell me there was a good reason.”

“Zabini doesn’t care about the war. Not like they do. Not like we do. He just wants to survive.”

"Of course he does, he's a Slytherin!" Ron interjected, his voice tinged with disbelief. "And not just any Slytherin, his mum's been through husbands like she’s browsing shoes."

Harry suppressed a sigh; this was exactly the reaction he had anticipated but hoped to avoid. "That’s exactly why he’s perfect." He urged, his voice low and earnest. "Zabini is only interested in surviving this mess. He stays neutral because picking a side is a huge risk to him."

Hermione gave a slow nod, trying her best to understand. “Is this a smart move?”

-----

“One, what happens here stays here. This party never happened! Two, no violence. You fight, you’re done. You duel, you’re done. You break anything, you’re done. Three, keep your filthy hands to yourselves until you’re out of sight. Four, do not be a dick! And I will be the judge, jury, and executioner of what rule four means. Now, welcome to Beauxbatons!”

-----

Harry didn’t trust a damn thing coming out of the other boy’s mouth. He was supposed to practically be Draco’s boyfriend, even if only a distraction, according to Blaise, and yet he’d spent all of the Yule Ball stealing people’s dates and not talking to Draco once. And now he was chatting up the lad he knew Draco hated the most.

-----

“I’m probably going to end up dead.”

“Shut up, Potter.” Draco managed to speak his name without making it sound like poison. He sounded just as tired as Harry.

“I’m not wrong.” He pointed out with a bitter laugh. But he really, really didn’t want to stop kissing the other boy. “This is shit coping.”

“Is that why you’re whoring around, snogging everyone?”

“Of course it is!” He nearly shouted as if it should be obvious. Harry leaned his head back against the tree, taking a deep breath. “I have no idea how this Tournament is going to end.”

-----

“Easy now.” Harry managed a chuckle, trying to regain his composure while pushing away the gnawing guilt at enjoying the attention. He was aware of how superficial it all was, but he couldn’t help himself. They didn’t like him. They liked what he represented; his status and the rumors. But it made him feel good.

The Durmstrang girl only shrugged. “Not everyone can say they kissed a champion.”

Harry felt wanted.

Some kisses were lingering and soft, others sweet and shy, and a few were quite bold. Why not try and lay claim on having a moment with The Boy Who Lived, Hogwarts’ Champion? For some, it was a dream come true; for others, a fleeting chance at his fame and glory. But they would never forget it. Neither would he.

Harry felt slightly overwhelmed and his stomach churned a bit. But he liked it. Even if it was meaningless, it meant the world to him. The girls passed him around like a candy bar they all wanted a bite of. A fleeting kiss and he was passed on to the next while the girls bragged that they got to kiss him, talking about him as if he wasn’t even there.

-----

“Go on, then. I know there’s a password.”

Draco rolled his eyes, playful, but a bit disappointed. “Pureblood.” And the entrance revealed itself.

Harry nearly scoffed at how stupid the password was. “Goodnight, Draco.” He insisted, letting the boy go.

The blond looked bewildered as he stood there, a hand on the wall to steady himself. “What did you call me?”

He blinked before his lips parted in shock. He hadn’t even realized he called the other boy by his first name. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“Say it again.”

The entrance to the common room closed.

-----

Chapter 24 of Scion just posted!!! There was an afterparty after the Yule Ball, right? Right?? Oops.

#drarry fanfic #drarry excerpt #drarry #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry/draco #harry x draco #draco x harry #draco malfoy #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3fic

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lilythelitten · 2 months ago

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Alrighty, since you mentioned it a few times in a few posts, I'm genuinely curious: What's your takes on Irratino's love life before Logico? Is it disastrous because relationships are so short lived, messy break ups, he's still thinking about Logico, just bad luck overall? Did he date any suspects we know? (Which would make a very funny image of him and Logico showing up to a scene and Irratino being like "Oh oops my ex is here" and Logico is like "this is the third time this month that's happened" XP) But yeah, I'm curious about your thoughts on Irratino's love life! ^_^

*cracks knuckles* Alright, let’s talk Tino, because I’ve got a lot of thoughts for my favorite character! In short, there were two main reasons why the guy did not have a successful love life.

The first is the one I’ve brought up time and time again: after college, he was too hung up on Logico to make any relationship work. Not for lack of trying, mind—Irratino did date a fair bit in the eight years between SoM and Volume 1. But…he’d never had that lack of closure before. Before, whenever a relationship ended, it either ended peacefully with both of them wishing each other well, or explosively with rage and tears—but it always ended, no questions asked.

This, though? This was the first time Irratino had parted ways with someone with no resolution. No burned bridges, no farewells—Logico was just gone, leaving all these loose ends behind. Irratino had never experienced that before, and it drove him bananas. He spent ages wishing he knew what had happened, wondering how Logico was doing, wanting at least one more conversation just to clear the air—but that didn’t come for years. And every relationship he had in-between suffered from the lingering sense of what-could-have-been.

The second has nothing to do with Logico and was actually a problem when Irratino first started dating back in high school: a tendency to rush into relationships too quickly. Irratino has a hopeless romantic side to him, and was (and still is, to some degree) a bit desperate for someone to love him. Chalk it up to lingering abandonment issues after his moms died ^^; As it so happened, teenage Irratino had grown into an incredibly attractive individual, so he had a lot of admirers and a lot of people asking him out.

Many a time, Irratino eagerly accepted and flung himself headlong into a romantic relationship, only to realize…they weren’t actually compatible. Or the other guy only liked him because he was pretty and found his actual personality a turn-off. Or was a total jerk. Or didn’t want to take their relationship quickly. Or just didn’t take it as seriously as he did. This happened several times in high school, and once in freshman year in college (which caused Irratino to put dating on the back burner for the rest of college).

Fun fact (for a given value of fun): this bothered teenage Irratino a lot more than it bothered adult Irratino (because Irratino had teenage insecurities too, he was just better about hiding them), so he had a phase in high school where he’d try to change himself to keep the affection of guys he liked. This included a long period in junior year where he straightened his hair, which wound up nearly wrecking it and caused Irratino to realize romance really wasn’t worth changing himself over. Or ruining his hair over :P

As for whether he dated any of the suspects—no idea! I mentioned a college ex-boyfriend in my SoM fic, but I have no idea if that was a suspect or just a random background extra. Feel free to come up with your own theories :P I do know that he has a pretty firm policy against dating his employees. That is abuse of power and he is not going there. (Seashell’s chances go even lower, and they were already zero :P) Irratino never made a move in Chapter 2 of Volume 1 for this exact reason: he was paying Logico, and having a romantic relationship would cross too many professional boundaries. (Of course, post-Vol 1, Logico doesn’t work for him anymore so this isn’t an issue :P)

Thanks for the ask! This was very long, but fun to get out of my head ^^

#lily’s ask #murdle #inspector irratino #in tino’s defense it’s not like any of the suspects are great with relationships either #these guys crush on each other in different combinations every week #so clearly a stable relationship is the exception and not the norm :P #(meanwhile logico never dated at all before the events of canon but that’s a different story)

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the-unnamed-haven · 3 months ago

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The Kingdom of Death

CHAPTER 1: Business as Usual

Finally got this to a place where I think it's acceptable to post. Not the final cut, but it's better than it was before the rewrite.

TW: sexual themes. Not a lot, and nothing explicit (yet) but this one opens horny. You've been warned.

The waters of the lake were crystal clear. The sun was just beginning to set, the light of dusk refracting beautifully off the surface of the lake. Baal was certain he had never witnessed such a magnificent view before. Transfixed on the sight, he took a step towards the shore, only to notice the scores of men bathing in its waters.

“Wake up.”

Baal was stunned. He wasn't sure how he hadn't seen them before. So many gorgeous men, each one like Adonis incarnate, all gathered to enjoy the splendor. Their perfectly toned muscles seemed to shimmer in the light of the setting sun. Baal's heart began to beat faster and faster. Could such a vision be real?

“... Wake up.”

As he stood entranced, the men took notice of him. Before he knew it, these immaculate manifestations of beauty were approaching, calling his name in sultry and playful tones. Baal felt his heart beating out of his chest. As the first came near, Baal glanced down to notice the man's bulging, throbbing -

“Oh for the love of - BAAL.”

“Mmmuhh?” Just like that, the vision shattered. As Baal's eyes slowly opened, he came to realize the only lake here was the lake of saliva he was half drowning in, and the only other man present was his dear brother Aym. Indeed, the dream was too good to be true. But then, it always was.

“Ugh. Morning already?” Baal mumbled groggily as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Can't we have a day off?”

“We did.” Aym's tone was soft, but it betrayed a hint of annoyance. “Yesterday. Which you spent getting drunk on wine and inviting men to sleep with you.” Aym yanked the covers off of Baal. “And you couldn't even be bothered to take any of them to your own bed.”

Baal sat up, now coming to realize how much his head was pounding. “I was trying to be courteous, Aym.” He knew his brother did not speak out of malice, but at times, Aym made this difficult to remember. “The house is probably bad enough as it is -”

“Worse, actually.”

“-without me dragging the party in here.” Baal's tone shifted, a degree of playfulness making its way through. “At least this way we only need to worry about one room.”

A smirk formed on Aym's face. One could be forgiven for believing it to be a look of contempt, given Aym's natural tendency to look annoyed. “‘One room’ he says. While I appreciate your attempt, you failed to keep the party from spilling over into every other room in the house.”

“...Oops.” Baal stood up, somewhat embarrassed. He truly had meant to mitigate the amount of work they would have to do after Ascension Day, but it seemed he had failed once more. “Sorry, Aym.”

Aym gave a look of genuine warmth. “If I was truly upset with you, I would say as much. You know this. Just promise to help clean up when we get back tonight.”

“Sure.” Baal smiled, mirroring his brother. The moment was short lived, as the light of dawn began to shine brighter through the window, causing his headache to intensify. A reminder of the copious amount of wine he had imbibed the night prior.

“Oohhh…. Today's going to be long, I can feel it.” As Baal uttered this, he noticed the glass of water Aym was holding. Aym moved to offer the glass to his brother. “Drink. We can't have the mighty Baal going out looking haggard.”

“Thank you.” Baal accepted the drink and went to sip. “Though” he spoke in a smug voice after taking a drink. “I could be half dead and I'd still look better than you.”

Aym gave a short chuckle. “Such vanity will be your undoing, dear brother.”

“Maybe one day” Baal said with a smile. “But not this day.” He quickly finished the glass. “Well. We should probably get going, yes? The Master will be expecting us soon.”

“Oh, the One Who Sleeps is suddenly concerned with being punctual?” Sarcasm was practically dripping from Aym's voice. “Perhaps we should check that the Hells haven't frozen over.”

“Hey, I don't always oversleep! Just most of the time!” The pair shared a laugh. Baal's headache flared up again just at the right time to ruin the moment. He clutched his head in pain, wishing dearly he could go back to bed.

“You are right, though. We've dawdled long enough.” Aym returned to his normal, perpetually disgruntled voice. “Let us finish getting ready.” The brothers donned their robes and made for the door. As they were leaving, Baal took note of a distinctly blood colored stain on the floor.

“Um. Brother… Is that -”

“I'm trying not to think about it.”

“...Fair enough.”

_______________________________________

Baal pulled his hood up fully over his eyes as he stepped outside. The harsh sun was growing more intense by the minute, doing no favors for his headache. Today was already proving arduous.

“Come” Aym's voice was accompanied by the clanking of numerous empty bottles. “We'll dispose of these on the way to the Cathedral.”

“Right…” Baal found himself once again wishing he could have stayed in bed. Between the unforgiving sun and the prospect of having to organize cleanup crews for the rest of the day, Baal knew today would be far longer than most. He found his mind wandering back to the dream his brother had so rudely interrupted. The details were already fading, but things were still clear enough. The serenity of the view, the clear waters of the river, the endless sea of beautiful men, water cascading off their rippling muscles. Or, was it a lake? A pond? Perhaps it was -

*CLANG*

Baal's recollection was cut short by the feeling of metal colliding with his forehead.

“Ow! Oh, by the Crowns that hurt!”

“Hah” Aym let out a short laugh, though one could be forgiven for hearing a scoff instead. “Baal the Mighty, brought low by a lamppost. If you are out best, our enemies have little to fear.” His tone was snide, but his smile showed it was a jest.

A voice cut through before Baal could conjure a retort. “Such is the danger of letting the mind wander. Lucky for you, that a lamppost holds no malice.” The voice was quiet, almost a whisper, yet it held a commanding tone. It was a voice Baal knew well.

“Lord Shamura. This is quite the surprise.” Aym spoke, his usual low tone betraying a touch of shock.

“Indeed. I had hoped to remain at the Temple of Leandros for the Ascension Day festivities, but my duties demanded I make for the Capital.” Their demeanor shifted. Shamura’s brow furrowed, their playfulness now discarded. “There is trouble in Silk Cradle. I came to petition Lord Narinder to send the Crusaders to assist.”

“Heretics?” Baal inquired.

“We are unsure. Precisely why I wish to speak with the Archbishop. Perhaps we may require another purge.”

“Perhaps.” Aym said, flatly. “But we should make for the Cathedral before we discuss further.”

“Certainly, Lord Aym. Having the counsel of the Twin Saints will be most welcome.” The spider smiled. “Let us be on our way.”

“Yes, let's. Baal, shall we…”. Aym looked to the empty space where his brother had stood a moment ago. “Wh- Brother?” He swung his head around to the road leading to the Cathedral. Baal was walking with a newfound vigor, having forgotten all about his headache.

Oh, today just got SO much better he thought, giddy at the notion of seeing his beloved Leandros again.

SOO-O-O much better.

#cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb au #cult of the lamb fanfic #cotl #cotl au #cotl baal #cotl aym #cotl shamura #the kingdom of death #tkod

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lyingintheclouds · 3 months ago

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my current list of fanfic projects <3

i’m editing my old fics rn bc i realized most of them aren’t actually open for guests to view 😭 so here we go ! if it’s old, it means it was released before this tumblr acc was made! there is a high chance of abandonment so i suggest you don’t get invested in these :’) tysm for supporting me!

~ posted on my ao3 account!

(old) not meant to be - a mitsukou soulmates au <3

(old) 5+2 clubs of kamome academy - my old way of exploring character relationships! i might just release all the unfinished drafts and then stop releasing chapters 😔

the little mermaid - that one mermaid au :3

have you heard (the future from a screen) ? - the reaction fic !!!

~ unreleased

my extra special swap au, which is going to happen in a couple hours ft. a couple other projects !!

pre-seventh spiritings/spinoff: music box arc - aoikane & sakuhiko’s time at the human palace! i needed some place to try angst... and uh... slight gore

5 times hanako had to guard nene + 2 times he didn’t have to - there’s some trigger warnings for these, please read them! nothing explicit, but it’s better to be informed.

if only i’d told you so - i wonder if you can tell that i love hanako & aoi’s interaction on the train to the far shore, because this was inspired by another fic that i can’t find and im not posting until i can give credit to the original

there’s more but,,, who cares

~ unrelated/abandoned

assassination classroom x mha - my secret pet project bc i love assassination classroom so deeply. but it’s likely never gonna be posted so-

yydc - it was so early on i forgot about it. anyways, i’m super sorry, mha fans, because this fic is basically abandoned now. oops. bye bye momo, ily but jshk is always priority 😭

#jshk #tbhk #cinna’s rambles #writing stuff #assassination classroom #fanfiction #hananene #mitsukou #cinna’s mer au #cinna’s reaction fic #cinna’s swap au #tags for organization...

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heartofsnark · 2 years ago

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A Simple Request For An Unsimple Man (Gale x Fem!Oc Tav)

Author's note: Hello, it's certainly been a minute since I've been able to post fic here without worrying about formatting bullshit (love so much that my longest running fic can't be posted here because it relies on italics/formatting techniques within the first 50ish chapters and tumblr makes that a headache)But, I've found myself sinking a bit into BG3/Gale hell and after some prompting my @shallow-gravy about a comment I left about Gale being able to summon a bed, I decided this might be a fun idea and oops have a thirty page one shot! So, have something featuring my tav- Petra and Gale. Still not sure of what I"m doing with these characters, but hey~

Summary: Petra and Gale are more than a little clumsy in the ways that they love, both having their own significant dry spell when it comes to romance and sexual desires. And while the two have shared themselves within the weave, Petra has made a simple request to share their physical bodies as well. Gale is not good at simple.

Warnings: Unprotected vaginal sex, praise kinks, creampies, cunnilingus (tav/petra in this is a cis female woman), fingering, mutual masturbation, tooth-rotting fluff (turns out I write fluff now), soft!dom Gale, and magical sex mishaps.

Petra's mind has been a maelstrom of worries for quite a while now, however, if someone had told her that amidst tadpoles, cults, and shadow cursed lands that her mind would be consumed with matters of the heart and loins- well, she'd think they were crazy.

But, perhaps she's the crazy one.

She never expected to love again, never expected to find someone who felt like home, or makes her heart stutter on every other beat. But she never expected to have a tadpole shoved into her eye or to pull a wizard from a stone- let alone for that very wizard be the one doing this to her. Life is full of surprises, as is her lover.

Ugh, gods- she has a lover.

The very thought makes her face burn, her heart pound, and her guts twist. If she didn't know any better she'd think herself ill, but alas- she's learned that's merely Gale's influence on her. The wizard needed no charms or illusions to win her affection, but he warned her early on- well before either of them had realized what was growing between them, that he had a taste for grand gestures.

And grand they were.

He conjured her stars and shifting auroras against an ink black night, he showed her his home, his sanctuary without her needing to step a foot into Waterdeep. And he plucked their very souls from their bodies, to kiss and touch and merge within a realm beyond their own. Glittering blue forms, never knowing quite where his touch ended and hers began, surrounded and consumed by him. An electric blur of his touch over her very being.

She would have been content with a flower and a bowl of his deer stew, but who is she to turn down the adoration fueled gestures of a man she does not deserve.

Which in part is why she can't help but suspect she might be being just a touch greedy…

Made all the worse by her greed and insecurity tugging her mind back and forth between them like rabid dogs would a slice of steak.

In some ways she's already done the hardest part, confessing her desire to Gale felt like a herculean task in itself, a stumble of poorly put together words while her face burned hotter than Karlach's engine. But ultimately, she got the message across and Gale as always was far too eager to oblige.

Though, he seems intent to oblige her request in his Gale way of obliging.

Because, you see, her request is incredibly simple. Despite her anxiety and insecurity- she wants to fuck Gale the old fashioned way. She loved the way they bonded before and truly will jump to do it again, but she just can't help but also want the more mundane variety. To feel flesh and bone, to touch his skin, to press her lips against his throat and feel his pulse race beneath her tongue. This of course means he'll also be seeing her naked properly without blue blurry auras smoothing out her every- less excited for that, but her desire for him outweighs her shame for herself.

And this simple request, frankly- could have been sated nearly the moment it was made in the privacy of his tent. He needed only to roll her onto her back or pull her to straddle his hips, a few garments tossed aside, the dark providing her with some some cloaking while still getting to feel and see him- gods bless darkvision.

But that would be far too simple, her request instead met with a wide smile a; "Say no more, consider it done, my love," a kiss goodnight, and the looming knowledge that he was planning something.

So, perhaps surprise is too strong a word when she returns to camp after a brief walk alone to find her companions snickering and Gale's mirror image standing outside his tent. Thin ripples of weave radiating through an otherwise perfect copy of her favorite wizard. She knows it could be perfect, saw him make one perfect before- the imperfections intentional, to let her know it's not him and instead a messenger.

Petra skirts past her chattering friends, pretending she doesn't feel several sets of eyes following her as she stands before the replication of her dearest. Who merely beams with that bright smile that she's come to adore, even if it's merely a simulacrum of it.

"Heh, I take it Gale has some plans for us tonight?" She whispers towards the mirror image, trying to keep prying ears from learning too much. Not that her and Gale are secretive about their relationship by any means, but not every one of their friends needs to know when they're having sex.

"That he does and I have the most wonderous task of taking you to see him, words cannot begin to express how eager he is to see you tonight," the mirror image chirps, not even a hint of shame or volume control as his eyes burn with that same flame of adoration the real Gale always seems to carry- her face flushing beneath its heat.

"Ugh, hells you two are going to make me throw up a perfectly good meal, would you please take your simpering gazes elsewhere," Astarion calls out from around the campfire, a hint of a smile in his words, then his lips when Petra turns to glower at him.

"I hardly think whatever shadow cursed vermin you've managed to snack on out here counts as a good meal- but rest assured, I am leaving."

"But of course- after all your little magician is so very eager," he mocks again and if he weren't her friend, she'd kick his arse- still might.

"Oh lay off her, Fangs- it's cute, like two pups wagging their tails at each other."

"I believe nauseating is the word you're looking for," Shadowheart chimes in, "I mean really, not a drop of shame between the two, every time he leaves behind one of those mirror images- he might as well just declare that they're about to go rut around in the woods all night."

"Date nights are perfectly healthy for a newly bonded couple-"

"Dates- is that what you think they're doing out there? In the middle of nowhere, alone- you think they're, what, chatting about their favorite books over a glass of wine?" Astarion cuts Wyll off, incredulous that he would refer to Petra and Gale's outings as a date.

"I mean, wouldn't really be all that shocked if they were- it is Gale, after all…"

"Regardless, I think seeing our friends form such a union is something to be celebrated not mocked."

"Their carnal desires are hardly any of our concern, so long as they remain vigilant in battle- however, I must say I do find it curious that the wizard always seeks to be hunted, he might as well submit outright if he cannot best her in combat."

"Oh, I'm sure he does plenty of submitting."

"I don't know 'bout that, Petra may be bossier but look at the poor thing- redder than a devil's arsehole, probably turns into a mess the moment clothes start comin' off."

Petra grasps the mirror image's arm, her face burning hot and no doubt just as red as Karlach said. She hisses between gritted teeth; "Get me the fuck out of here."

"Your wish is my command, now- let us find more pleasant company," he assures her, quickly walking her away from the camp as their friends speculate about their sex life.

"And by that, you mean yourself," she teases, leaning against the mirror image's arm. The conjured form isn't a perfect match, both from the rippling static like eminence of weave and it being a little less shameful than her Gale. But it carries his warmth, his smell- like the innards of an old library, cozy and welcoming.

"Would you have it any other way?"

"Gods no," she admits, burrowing her face into his arm, hiding her flushed cheeks from his view.

"Careful now, I'd hate to be jealous of myself," Gale's voice rings out, more alive, more human and not right beside her- her head shoots up, the sky is bathed in shifting colors and twinkling lights. Her Gale just a short walk away; "Though I can hardly blame you, he is quite handsome."

And that’s all she needs, letting go of the mirror image, the half-elf rushes towards him- the real him, a small laugh escaping Gale’s lips as she throws her arms around him. As nice as the fake one is, it will never feel as good as touching the real thing. His heat seeping in between their clothes, warming her skin- that must of old books and lavender offset slightly by the salt of his sweat. His large hands holding her in kind, one settling on the small of her back and the other stroking through her hair. She takes a deep breath, a heavy inhale and exhale of him, before finally lifting her head ever so slightly- enough to look up at him,

The way he looks at her could melt all of Frostfell. Those soft brown eyes looking at her like she’s hung the stars and moon, all the while he’s the one who’s conjured the sky above them.

“A good evening to you too,” he greets, smiling so sweetly and she stands up on her tiptoes- Gale meeting her need as she presses a kiss to that very smile. The warm press of his mouth against hers sending heat and butterflies through her very veins, she breaks back before she can get carried away. Not wanting to ruin his plans, but struggling to stifle the desire to kiss him until her lungs ache.

“Good evening,” she hums back instead, squeezing him tighter, her eyes looking around the wide field bathed in the glow of soft purples and blues. It’s largely familiar, the same space and view he created the night he brought their very souls together- when he confessed his fear, his love, and so much more. Where she pleaded for him to stay, for him to live.

Though with one very new addition to the expanse of field- an extraordinarily out of place bed. Lavish and lush with deep indigo blankets, bathed in the glow of the sky and the burning of a torch mounted in the ground beside it- the addition betraying the reason they’re here tonight.

“You know what I can’t help but notice?” Petra remarks after a beat of silence, a quiet moment of simply sinking into one another’s hold- blinking up at her wizard.

“My dashing good looks?”He asks, a small smile and a raise of his brow.

“Mm, yes, but no more than usual,” she plays along, smiling against him. Knotting her fingers in the plush purple of his tunic,debating on if she should slip her hands beneath the fabric- wanting to feel more of his skin.

“My brilliant mind and ever expanding intellect?”

“Well, that just goes without saying,” she assures him, heaping on the praise for him.

“Hmm, than it must be my veritable wealth of charm and wit.”

“Close and before you ask- no, it’s not your modesty either,” she teases, scratching her nails over his back through his shirt- trying to sate her ache to touch him, “What I can’t help but notice is that whenever you pull me away for a night via your mirror image- it seems to mean I’m the one left dealing with the whispers of our companions.”

He grimaces slightly, somewhat between amusement and annoyance; “Ah, yes, a… much unfortunate consequence, but one we simply can’t avoid, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, is that so?” She teases, laughing through her smile, “Funny how that unavoidable consequence seems to benefit you.”

“Life is full of those funny little mysteries, I think it wise to embrace- not question, these curiosities.”

“Thats quite a fancy way of saying you intend to keep throwing me to the wolves,” she chirps, pulling a hand back to slap him playfully in the ribs, he merely laughs because he knows exactly what he’s doing; “Do you know that right now, at this very moment- our friends gossiping like hens about which one us… takes the lead?”

“Ah, yes, I’m… terribly sorry to have missed that conversation.”

“And yet, I suspect you’re not sorry at all,” she comments, reaching upward she strokes through his hair- tracing a streak of gray that curls around his ear, soft brown strands slipping between her fingers. He’s so lucky he’s so damned adorable.

“Oh, but I am- absolutely contrite that I could not steal you away before their sordid chatter reached your ears- after all, I’m no more keen on our proclivities being the subject of discussion than you are,” he admits and she hums, a small smirk on her lips as he continues on, trying to insist he definitely feels bad about leaving the gossipy shit for her to handle.

“Perhaps not, but you do seem keen on leaving me to handle it.” She points out again, cradling his jaw- his beard scratching her palm as she rubs her thumb along his cheekbone. Petra often wonders if he minds the callouses that cling to her skin. Her flesh so much rougher than his, he leans into her touch, presses his jaw to her hand.

“And my apologies are most sincere, however if you still find yourself unconvinced- perhaps I can show you the depth of my remorse?” He asks, pressing his forehead to hers, lips a breath away, “You need only ask, demand any penance you deem fit- and I will gladly pay it.”

“Is that so?”

“There is no sin against you, no matter size or severity, that I would not repent for.”

“Well, I mean, I wouldn’t mind a kiss,” she admits, the only thought on her mind when his face is so close to hers- when his lips are just a breath away. When one tilt of her head, one jolt would crash their lips together.

“Hmm, I think you may not have a full understanding of what penance means, my dear, typically-”

“Gale,” she says, looking up at him with the sternest eyes she can manage- no doubt stopping him from prattling off the definition of penance. Because she’s in love with a sentient thesaurus.

“Yes.”

“You have until the count of three to kiss me and if you don’t- I’m going to bite you,” she threatens, not sure how much she wants him to listen- she does like biting him, “One-”

“Thinking over my options,” he chimes, sing songy as he seems equally unsure of which choice he likes more.

“Two.”

“I do rather like your love bites, but your kisses are quite enchanting as well.”

“Thr-”

His lips press to hers, deeper than before. One of her hands twists in his tunic, the other in the his hair. He cradles her jaw and lower back, pulling each other closer, she can’t help the small sigh of happiness and bliss as his tongue pushes into her mouth. The faintest taste of his cooking still on his tongue, a hint of mint where he tried to clear it out- maybe she should have been so kind.

Their kisses are still clumsy, a slightly awkward press and swirl of tongues, both single and isolated for a year or more. But it feels like warmth and love and home in a way she can’t define, heat simmering between her thighs when the hand on her back moves lower. A broad palm playfully squeezing at her ass, tugging her closer, the grope of his fingers sinking into the plush of her flesh- a soft moan echoing from her throat, muffled by his tongue.

They break apart, breathing ragged- hot puffs of air across each other’s lips. She can feel the heat clinging to the apples of her cheeks, mirrored in the flush that creeps beneath Gale’s beard. Petra grins up at his beautiful red face, the brown of his eyes nearly swallowed by the black of his pupil.

“Three,” she whispers, catching his lower lip between her teeth and nipping playfully at the kiss swollen flesh. Gale groans, deep and throaty, sending molten heat right to her cunt. His lips pulls out from between her teeth as he pulls her into a desperate hungered kiss.

It’s deeper than the last, even more ravenous and rough, both of his hands now groping at her backside- kneading at her flesh, feeling his fingers sinking into the plush of her flesh through her clothing. Wishing his hands were beneath her clothes, on her skin, pressing into her properly.

She tugs at his hair, scratches her nails along his scalp as he kisses her deeper and deeper, her lungs burning by the time she feels the back of her thighs bumping something soft. Breaking off the kiss to see she’s somehow been staggered back to the bed. It’s plush blankets and rows of pillows beckoning her. She can’t help but giggle.

“Couldn’t settle for a dirty bedroll, could you?” She teases, stealing another soft kiss.

“The least I could do for your comfort, time spent together in the flesh should be no less beautiful than that spent in the celestial- whatever way you’ll have me, I wish only to make it perfect for you.”

“Then… wish no more,” she murmurs, voice soft as she avoids the intensity of his gaze, the adoration that consumes his words and expression, “You’re here with me, I could not imagine anything more perfect than that.”

“Careful now, keep talking that way- you may never be rid of me,” he tries to joke, to tease- but when she forces herself to look back up at him, she can see the flush of his cheeks deepening as his smile widens.

And with everything that still hangs in the air- Mystra’s unreasonable request, the knowledge that a part of him still doesn’t feel certain of whether he’ll see the end of this journey. The fact he may still make that choice, that he very well still might leave her in some desperate attempt to save the world. She throws her arms tight around his neck, latches her nails into his skin as she tugs him closer, closer. His nose bumping her own, his forehead back flush against hers.

“I truly hope that I could be so lucky,” she rushes out, reiterating her wish- her plead again. That he’ll stay here with her, that she will never be rid of him- that on the other side of this whole ordeal is a future where his story stays enmeshed with her own. That she’ll not have to lose another love, not sure her heart could stand it.

Then it’s another clash of lips, tongue, and teeth- not even sure who started this one, both desperate to get their mouths on each other. And for a moment, she feels herself lifted, feet off the air- she giggles into his kiss before the world shifts every so slightly, her back thumping down onto the soft blankets. Her weight sinking into the plush of the mattress, Gale smiling at her lowers a knee to the bed and climbs up, settling above her.

Adoration, the word comes to mind over and over again whenever he looks at her. Brown eyes soft and clear with nothing but that emotion, letting it sink in through her skin and into her bones, consuming her wholly. She never thought she loved brown eyes so much, disliking her own for so long- but on him they’re so beautiful. Warm and filled with more love than she’s could ever hope to deserve.

She cups his face and pulls him down for another kiss, never satisfied. He said before that moment with her could sate him for a lifetime and while the sentiment still rattles her to her very soul- she can’t say she relates, feeling as if she could have a million with him and still beg for one more, for another, another, another. Not enough time in the universe for how much she wishes to spend with him.

Her hands tug at his tunic, reaching one beneath- no longer able to suppress the desperate need to just touch him. To feel his skin beneath her fingers, warm flesh and coarse body hair, the soft skin of his stomach. A layer of plush with a hint of firmer muscle beneath, when she presses a little harder. Their lips part again as Gale leans back onto his knees, which sink into the bed on either side of her hips.

She skims her hands down his hips and thighs as Gale grips at his shirt, tugging it off- carefully putting it aside. Petra’s eyes roaming the open exposed flesh of his chest and stomach. The celestial version of him gorgeous, but not truly doing him justice. Smooth glowing blue aura not showing the dark body hair that scatters across his chest, trailing down his stomach and leading to below his waistband. The occasional freckle and even rarer scar that decorate his skin.

Even the mark on his chest, the symbol where the orb took root in his chest. Bruised in the middle, tendrils sweeping out from it- the ones that curl up the left side of his throat growing fainter as they stretch out to vanish beneath his beard- connected faintly to the prominent veins that ghost below his eye. She hates what that thing has done to him, how it’s hurt him- how it’s not being used as a threat against his very life, but even that she finds beautiful on his flesh. The mark of his mistakes, of his devotion to one who never deserved it, proof of him as a man who sought love in worship. His folly is as much a part of the man she loves as every virtue he carries in kind.

“Fuck,” she curses, all the words she can utter as she gazes at him. Admiring every inch of his body that’s been revealed to her. Realizing she’s rarely seen him shirtless, not counting the celestial plane and a few brief, awkward mistakes while navigating river baths in the early days of their travel. How odd that they’ve been so deeply intimate, yet she can’t say she’s seen him fully naked.

Which means he has yet to see her fully naked as well- which scares her even more than the tadpole gnawing at the inside of her skull.

“If you ever sought to deflate my ego, I must say- you’re doing a terrible job at it,” he teases, a brilliant grin on his face as her own burns with heat.

"As if I'd ever embark on a such a fool's errand," she taunts, skimming her hands upward and feeling the heat of his skin. Raking her nails along his lower stomach, feeling the muscles tense beneath her hand, biting her tongue to not make any comments about belly rubs.

"Hmm, given your…tendencies, forgive me if I remain unconvinced."

She lets out a breath of a laugh- "You know, you're astoundingly disagreeable, for a man attempting to bed me."

"Not to add to the matter, but I do believe we've past the point of 'attempting.'"

"I swear to the gods, I'm gonna learn magic just so I can cast silence on you one of these days," she threatens, pinching playfully at his flesh.

"And I'd be honored to teach you, but for now- I hope finding other uses for my mouth will suffice," he offers, dipping down to kiss her again, bracing one hand to the pillows by her head- the other cupping her jaw. His thumb brushing along her cheekbone, a soft sigh muffled by his tongue pushing into her mouth. Her hands roam his torso, unable to settle fully on which part of him she wants to touch- his stomach, chest, sides, back, and shoulders all feeling so perfect beneath her fingers.

His warm wide palm brushes down her jaw to her neck, heat and sparks rising to her skin wherever his fingers touch. Unable to help the way she squirms beneath his mouth and hands, the soft noises she whimpers into his kiss, against his tongue as her own presses into his mouth in kind. Burning heat aches between her thighs, barely touched but even the faintest of his kisses or the briefest brush of his fingers pulls desperation from her very soul. Pathetic in her need for him,

Gale's hand leaves her skin for a moment, already cold without his touch, she drags her nails along his shoulder blades- tries to pull him down closer. Then his hand finds her ribs, presses against her side molten warm on her chilled skin. Caught between relishing in the brush of his fingers and the way her insecurities make her body go rigid. Her hope that he may not notice dashed the moment their kiss breaks apart, ragged breath and flushed face not betraying the concern that knits his brows- the worry carved into every line of his face.

"Is everything alright?" He asks, voice lower and rougher, lips swollen and wet- strands of hair beginning to fall and stick against the sweat that beads along his forehead.

"Yeah, yes, of course," she insists, her own voice rougher than she expects as she tries to cram down the bubble of anxiety in her ches- desperate not to ruin her or Gale's night.

"Petra, I would never claim you to be an open book, but you are one that I feel most adept at reading- though, I could still clearly still use some slight guidance and for that I'll need your words. Tell me what is wrong, so I may make it right, please," he tries again, with more words and more conviction- his hand lifting to brush her hair behind her ear, his thumb dragging along the sensitive point. A little chill curls along her spine in response.

"It's nothing, really," she murmurs, smoothing her palm along his neck- tracing along the tendrils of blacked raised flesh that curls from the orb. Wondering again, if the callouses and scars of her hands bother him.

His hands are softer than hers, more versed in flipping book pages and casting spells than hunting or stealing. He's mentioned spas and bathhouses in Waterdeep, and she wonders what balms or lotions he'd be using were their supplies not so limited. He's not without his scars, she knows- but even the raised flesh feels softer on his body than hers. Subtle faded burns from cooking and casting mishaps alike, a raised crease on his forehead from summoning a toy he wanted as a child- only to have the wooden train set appear and thunk down atop his head.

Her scars and memories aren't so kind. No stories as sweet or kind. No fuzzy nostalgia for raised lashmarks on her back or thighs. No warm feelings about the scar across her lip, the only thing her mother deemed fit to let her keep, the same scar Gale must feel every time they kiss.

Gale has suffered truly and she would never suggest otherwise, she'd sooner fist fight Mystra than deny the pain he's endured, the pain he is still enduring. However, when he hears him talk of his childhood, his mother, Tara, his education- she can't help but feel like a tragedy in comparison. A pitiful thing next to him. Nowhere near worthy of his adoration, his efforts, his love…

"If it weighs on your mind, then it is not nothing."

"Okay, so… it's nothing, but it is silly," she tells him, scratching her thumbnail through his beard, hoping to distract him.

"Then if it is so silly and inconsequential, there will be no harm in telling me, will there?" He says, her nose wrinkling, he's so stubborn, "My aim is not to push you into telling me anything, but what kind of man would I be to notice your discomfort and continue on as if I hadn't?"

"Okay, okay- if you must make sense," she huffs and pouts, chews on her lip and avoids his gaze as she turns her head to the side, "I just am a little…insecure. Without the weave smoothing out my scars, blurring my freckles, and softening me- well, it helped make me someone worth touching."

Her admission hangs in the air for a moment, her chest rigid with tension and swollen with a bubble of anxiety. He must think she's exhausting, asking this of him then getting so worked up over it. Her desire for him outweighing but not fully dealing away with her own insecurities. Truthfully, she'd have been content to strip Gale down,kiss and touch him to her heart's content- while never letting his hands graze her. But, he always has a way of taking the lead when it comes to these things. A fact that can never make its way back to camp.

A soft kiss presses to the side of her lips, where that scar cuts jaggedly through them. Another against her jaw, her forehead, her cheeks as warm welcoming hands cup her face.

"Look at me, my love." He brings her gaze to his. Her heart lurches up into her throat, skin burning beneath the intensity of Gale's expression. "There is no plane or realm or state of being in which you are anything less than a person worth touching. You are my hope and my light- and no matter how or where you are presented to me, you will always be the most beautiful thing I have set my eyes on. The stars, the moon, the sun, the very heavens themselves- you put them all to shame…"

She feels like she's been set ablaze. Her face nearly glowing with its heat, eyes wet, and the chill of the night a distant memory as his words burn through her very being. And he means them, gods help her- he means them. Able to hear and feel the conviction in every syllable, see his earnestness in the lines of his expression, in the spark alight in his eyes. And she will never know what she did to deserve him and she will always fear that she may lose him, but she is so happy to have him,

"Ugh, gods, fuck- Gale," she curses, stuttering on her words because she has nowhere near his grasp on the English language, "I don't really know how the hells I'm supposed to argue with that."

"So don't," he says, the request surprising in its brevity. His lips press to the corner of her eye, Petra realizing a moment too late that tears had started to streak down her face.

He kisses down the path of her tears, her jaw, her neck craning to the side as he buries his face against her throat. Feverish and heavy kisses across her skin, her arms wrap tight around his back- digging her nails into his shoulder blades as he bites tenderly at her skin, laving his tongue across the sting he left behind. She groans as he sucks harshly, nips at her pulse point, and she can't help but squeeze her thighs together- trying to get a bit of relief, everything he does just making her needier.

She curls her hand into his hair, twisting the silver streaked strands around her fingers as Gale kisses along her collarbone. Careful as his teeth graze where the skin stretches thinner over bone, the briefest edge of pain soothed over by the lap of his tongue. She moves the hand not tugging at his hair down his chest, skimming down his stomach, and finally presses her open palm to his groin- feeling his cock hardening in his pants, the heat of him through the fabric. A rough, nearly pained groan echoes against her collarbone. His forehead suddenly pressed to her shoulder, twitching beneath her touch.

“Too much?” She whispers against his ear, worried she may have pushed too far too soon. Far too aware despite her eagerness that neither of them have had physical sex in a year or more- probably more, considering his time with Mystra.

“No such thing with you,” he says through a raspy breath, his lips catching hers again as his hands brush up her sides- warm open palms stroking up the taunt freckled skin of her stomach. Stoking a fire that burns inside of her, heat rising to the very surface of her flesh as grinds her palm against him. Desperate to give him even a hint of the same heat burning in her.

His movements halt as his fingers brush the edge of her cropped nightshirt, kiss breaking as his eyes meet hers, a surprisingly silent request from her wizard. Reluctantly, she pulls her hands from his hair and cock, Gale provides her the space as she sits up to hook her fingers beneath the edges of her shirt and tug it up off over her head. Petra tosses it aside, shaking out her hair and trying not to overthink being naked from the waist up.

Every fiber of her being screams that she should cover her chest, having gained some weight since traveling with Gale- his cooking having put a few pounds on her, but sadly none of those managed to reach her tits. Small and fuller at the bottom than the top, freckled like damn near every other inch of her.

But as always, there is nothing sheer adoration in Gale’s eyes and with a little press of his palm on her sternum her back is hitting the sheets again. The blankets and pillows all the softer on her bare skin, sinking down into the blush of it. Warmth of the sheets and his hand a contrast to the chill of the open air that’s snuck back in, her nipples stiffening as a breeze taunts her.

Her legs spread for him as he moves closer, allowing him to slot himself between her thighs- a gasp on her tongue when his cock brushes against her core. Cloth grinding against her wet clit, feeling the outline of him against her. She groans and tries to wrap her legs around his hips, only for his hand to find her thigh- a steady palm pressing it back against the mattress. And his other hand finds hers, his large warm palm eclipsing hers, fingers intertwining with her own- as he presses another quick kiss to her lips, the next to her collarbones, another to the top of her breasts, then the heat of his mouth is around her nipple.

“Fuck,” she curses, a hiss of breath as pleasure sparks across her skin- Gale sucks harshly at her chest, teasing her nipple with his tongue, just the hint of his teeth on the fullest part of her breast, and the scratch of his beard on her skin.

She whines and whimpers, fingers knotting in his hair- his hands on her hand and thigh keeping her pinned beneath his weight, only able to arch and squirm against his mouth. Her hips try to writhe on instinct, trying to find friction against her core, trying to refind it. But he presses a little harder on her thigh, keeping his full weight off her, too much empty space between them for her to be sated. A frustrated whine in her throat as he pulls off her breast with a soft wet sound, not offering her any relief to her core or even acknowledgement of his torture, only a small hungry groan as he takes her other breast into his mouth.

The air feels even colder on her spit slick chest, nipple swollen and redder, a scratch of flushed beard burn left behind. Sharp contract making her squirm all the more as he makes the other match. Her sounds pathetic and needy, as he teases her sensitive chest. Every swipe of his tongue, brush of his teeth, scratch of his beard, and hungry reverberating groan against her skin sends a pulse of pleasure between her thighs.

“Gale,please,” she keens, not even sure what she’s begging for, more or less- if she’s squirming to press herself tighter to his face or trying to escape the laving of his tongue on her body. But she can only whine when her cry is met with a groan that echoes against her, reverberates in her bones, seeps through her veins, and settles in the wet heat between her thighs.

His lips pull away from her chest, the hand that had been pressed into hers slips away- palm stroking down her forearm, along her collarbones as Gale’s mouth moves lower. Soft kisses beneath the curve of her breast, down the middle of her stomach, his thumb brushing over her nipple- his fingers nearly chasing after his mouth as he moves down her body. Lips kissing over her belly button as he squeezes at her breast, the sink of his hands into the squish of her chest, large warm hand groping and teasing while he works his mouth even lower.

“Gale,” she whines again, as he presses her thigh tighter to the bed, his beard scratching just at the waistband of her pants. His hand skims down from her breast, fingers pressing soft divots into her hip. Then hook into her waist band, her thigh released finally as he mirrors the gesture of his other.His deep brown eyes looking up as her.

“May-”

“Please,” she cuts him off, hissing her consent, the ragged sound of his voice only making her desparate for more of him. He smiles, far too sweet for a man about to strip her naked- another soft kiss beneath her navel and then he’s tugging her clothes down.

She does her best to make it easy for him, lifting her hips as he rolls the fabric down them, moving her legs as needed when he finally yanks the clothes from her body. Her dearest magician having made sure to grab her underwear with them as well. Petra laid completely bare before him, The air just as cold on the slick heat of her cunt as it’s been to her split slick breasts. A chill curling along her spine, reminding her that despite the plush mattress and the soft downy blankets hugging her skin, they’re unmistakably outside. Conjured bed in the midst of the field, twinkling stars and kaleidoscopes of colors still dancing over head- bathing her blush touched skin in their glow.

Petra presses a hand to her mouth, trying halfway to hide her crimson face as her other hand hovers to hide her cunt. She can’t imagine the sight she must make- red faced, tangled hair against the pillow, throat mottled by his teeth, chest marked with saliva, the red scratch of beard burn lingering along her flesh and slick clinging to the meat of her thighs. The mess his mouth has made of her on full display.

His fingers are warm and reverant when they wrap around her wrist, plucking her hand from where it covers her cunt- exposing her even further as he presses a kiss to her palm.

“None of that, my love,” he whispers against her skin. Her nose wrinkles, heat still burning through her face- no words find her, so she pulls her hand from her mouth and sticks her tongue out at him. Feeling his smile against her palm, a soft nip of teeth against her wrist.

His hand falls away from her wrist, Petra scratches her nails through his beard before allowing her own to drop. A gasp catching in her throat when the broad warmth of his palms presses against both of her thighs. Her knees bending as she allows him to spread her further apart, even more exposed- even more on display than she felt before. His deep brown eyes reverent and nearly eclipsed by his pupils as he looks down at her slick cunt- Petra squirms against the sheets and the press of his hands.

“Gods,” he breathes out, her heart stuttering in her chest, “I could study for ages, read every tome and scroll in all of Faerun and still never be able to conjure a more beautiful sight than you.”

“Gale…” She whines, burying her face in her hands- burning beneath his gaze and words, how can he say these things without a singular fucking drop of shame? And how can he mean every single word of it?

“I’m right here, love,” he answers, pressing his face into her inner thigh- soft lips and the scratch of his beard, her breathing hitches as he kisses her flesh. Another moving further inward, along her skin. His tongue licking the slick that clings to her, his teeth nipping bruises into her thigh.

She squirms and writhes, anticipation coiling tight inside of her, only one goal with the direction of his kisses. Every lick and bite jolting phantom pleasure to her cunt, insides clenching and aching for something more direct, to feel that scratch of his beard and the lave of his tongue where she needs it most. No matter how embarassing the idea is. Need outweighing shame.

And as he moves further between her thighs, he lowers himself down, closer and closer- the skin feeling all the more sensitive as he nears her cunt. His hands and arms shifting, pushing beneath her thighs- a warm support of flesh and bone, his palms settling on her hips, before pressing down. His steady hold preventing her squirming, pinning her in place as he sucks a harsh mark into her skin.

“Please, Gale,” she whimpers, twisting both her hands into his hair, trying to squirm her hips to no avail.

“You have not an ounce of patience, do you?” He murmurs against her thigh, blunt edges of his teeth nipping at her flesh.

“Absolutely fucking not, not with you,” she whines, words burbling out, “I need you, please.”

A smile pressed into her skin and she can see it in her mind, even if she can’t through her thigh- she bites her tongue, waiting for his words to spill forth again. Waits for more waiting. Waits for another three part sentence and enough verbiage to put a dictionary to shame, all needed before he may finally put his fucking mouth on her.

The brush of breath on her wet cunt, his head shifting between her thighs- beneath her fingers and the heavy lave of his tongue through her center. Pleasure shockwaves through her, a half stuttered curse on her lips as her hips jolt and her fingers dig into his scalp. His hands press down harsher on her hips, mattress and blankets denting beneath her, keeping her still as the heat of his mouth consumes her every thought and feeling.

A practised tongue works her over, laving through her slit, dipping inside of her and lapping at the slick that rushes out of her. Each swipe of his tongue only drawing more from her, making her cunt clench around his tongue, feeling herself soak the scratch of his beard. A hungry groan against her, reverberating and twisting the coil inside of her tighter, sounding like a man starved- her insides burn, her hips try to writhe, to find even more friction as his tongue traces every inch of her.

Groans and wet noises against her, echoing and hanging in the open air, mingling with the nonsense of whines and pleads that she can’t seem to stop. Body and voice hardly her own as she's taken apart by every hungry lick into her cunt, pleasure burning hotter and coil dragging tighter.

A bump of his nose against her swollen clit and she's thrown over the edge, embarrassingly easy, a thunder of pleasure through her veins- coil snapping and body on fire as it consumes her very being. Only distantly aware that she's thrashing, gasping, and pressing down harsher on Gale's skull as her body jolts. Pleasure ravages her, his tongue and lips toying with her clit all the while, Gale burying his face into her as he pushes her end further and further, harsh sucks on her swollen flesh, pushing her back into ecstasy's grip anytime it threatens to let her go.

Not so much as cumming again, but Gale refusing to let her stop. Drawing her pleasure out, the faintest sign of it waning met with a firm nearly painful swipe of his tongue or suck against her clit, tracing patterns against it that her blanking mind can’t make sense of- only able to call his name and thrash beneath him, as pleasure edges to near pain.

And finally, he pulls away from her, orgasm crashing down and away to faint tremors versus an active quake. Her throat raw and aching from the noises he pulled from her, cunt throbbing and clenching at the sudden relief and gut wrenching absence- both somehow existing at once. Both missing his mouth and happy to be afforded the chance to come down from her high.

Her breaths are ragged and raw, coming back to her body. Shame aching painfully in her chest, needling at her hammering heart. The first physical bodily orgasm wrung from her by another’s hand in two years. Brought to her end by the stray bump against her clit. Her celestial form not only prettier, but able to endure far more- it seems.

And that shame only grows as the world fully returns to her, realizing just how tight her hands are wrenched in his hair- how harshly she’s pressing against his skull. His breath ragged and hot against her wet thigh, slick with sweat and more. And she can hear how out of breath he is, how she nearly stole the very air from his lungs- nearly drowned him in her.

“So-sorry,” she whispers, letting him go and hiding behind her hands, hating how desperate and ragged her voice is, “I uh, shit- didn’t mean to- I could’ve suffocated you, I’m so sorry, fuck-”

For all her begging him to live, to stay- she nearly killed him with her fucking vagina. Because of fucking course that’s something she’d do. A pathetic excuse for a person, a lover, and just an existing thing.

A huff of breath from him, hot on her already burning skin- it’s light and bubbles into a small laugh, another kiss to her thigh. The bed shifts beneath her, his arms and hands pulling away- Petra dares to peek between her fingers. Gale moves over her- his cheeks ruddy with exertion, his hair sweaty and mussed, beard and lips wet with slick. His grin only wider, more boyish when he meets her eyes through the gaps of her fingers- his own wrapping around her wrists.

Delicately, he prises her hands from her face.

“I can think of no better death, than one between your thighs.”

She snorts, a breathless laugh,; “Oh yeah, sure, and I’d be the one stuck explaining your naked corpse to K'ha'ssji'trach'ash.”

“He may appreciate the chuckle, but do remember the ‘chhh’ sound, comes from the back-”

“I know,” she retorts bluntly, her wizard only laughing in response. She can still remember how her nerves rattled the first time she was tasked with saving Gale’s life. Not evening knowing at the time just how much more precious that life would become to her. Terrified of saying a single wrong syllable of the mephit’s name, moving the thread to the wrong side, or hiting a wrong note on that stupid fucking flute.

Keeping him alive will be the death of her, but as he settles slightly next to her- arms curling beneath and around her- her cunt still throbbing with her drawn out orgasm, his body warm, and his open palm cupping her jaw… She can hardly say she’ll mind.

“I must say, I do feel assured knowing you’d bring me back again.”

“Of course, as many times as it takes,” she admits, her next breath swallowed by his lips. His tongue heavy with the taste of her, his kiss and beard wet with her slick, a muffled groan in her throat at the very thought.

She chases to deepen the kiss as much as she can, pressing into his chest- resting her hand over his forearm. Her tongue pushes deeper into his mouth, her insides aching again, even with the throb of near pain between her thighs from her overstimulation. The soft wet sound of their kisses, her own sigh muffled between their mouths as his mouth starts to taste less like her and more like him.

His forearm flexes beneath her fingers, his palm leaving her jaw, the other hand still holding her close and brushing her ribs. Before she can break the kiss or see where his other hand is traversing, she feels his fingers on her lower stomach and skimming down her body.

“Gale,” she whispers against his lips, thighs squeezing together- his fingers already teasing along her mound, scratching through the sparse patch of dark hair above her cunt. He hums against her cheek, pressing a kiss to her jaw- “I can’t… again.”

Her words are stuttered and breathy, not at all convincing- she’s still thrumming after her last orgasm, cunt still aching and sensitive, every cell of her being an exposed livewire he seems intent to keep playing with.

“You can’t… do what exactly?”He asks, voice edged with teasing as he bites at her jawline. Her thighs draw tighter together as his finger start to push between them. Whining as he kisses at her neck and she can already feel that coil starting to twist again.

“Can’t- cum again, too, mm… too soon, let me touch you instead,” she manages through the kisses and bites against her throat. Petra starts to move her hand that’s been placed in the narrow space between their bodies, groping downward- frustrated with the fabric still clinging to his lower half.

“There’s never too soon enough time to touch you,” he whispers against her throat.

“Gale, please,” she gasps, feeling him groan against her as her palm cups him through his pants- hard within his clothes, twitching beneath her touch.

“Spread your legs for me, dear,” he requests and she knows she’ll fall apart so quick, that the pleasure may ache into pain, but she needs him, the promise of his fingers too much. Petra clumsily obeying, spreading her legs; “There we are, so good for me.”

The words go start to her cunt, followed shortly by his fingers- the faintest brush over her swollen clit. She gasps, his name on her lips as she tries not to lose focus on where her own hand is, squeezing at his hard-on, trying to offer him some fraction of the pleasure he’s so persistent on pouring into her. A strained groan against her neck as his fingers start to swirl around her clit, a wet slide and building friction, already painfully close.

“Fuck, Gale,” she hisses, haphazardly trying to yank at the laces of his pants- cursing herself that she can pick the strongest locks in Faerun but can’t yank open her lover’s fucking pants between the odd angle, not being able to properly see what she’s doing, the mouth at her pulse point, and the finger slowly pressing into her.

“You already feel so perfect around me,” he speaks against her neck as a single thick warm finger pushes into her, opening her up, curling into her- her cunt clenching around him, her head thumping back against the pillows as she gasps. Soul sex aside, it’s the thickest thing she’s had in her in years, her own thin nimble fingers not comparing to his broad palms and long thick fingers.

“Please, please, Gale,” she breathes, not sure if she’s asking for more fingers or for help undoing his pants. Maybe both.

She gets a kiss beneath her ear, another finger pushing into her- slow and methodical in his pace. Not seeking to push her into immediate orgasm again, but to stretch her further apart, to see how deep he can fill her with the twist of his fingers. That pleasure building, aching inside of her as his lips kiss up her ear. Small wet presses that sends little chills as he nears the pointed tips of her ears. Feeling herself coating his fingers in wet, slick and accepting as the press of his thick solid fingers.

“You’re so beautiful, you’re taking my fingers so well,” he murmurs before kissing right at the point of her ear, nipping the sensitive skin and she jolts- face hot with pleasure and shame at how easy she is to take apart.

Then he starts to pump his fingers, no longer idly stretching and curling, finding a rhythm as he rocks them in and out of her cunt. A desperate cry on her lips, fingers dragging in and out of her slick heat- toying and curling in to press at her nerves, only to pull back and push back in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cries, not able to come up with any other word- even when the laces of his pants finally come undone with her frantic tugging. Biting her lip and groaning when she can finally- finally, shove her hand down his pants, beneath his underwear, hard solid cock finally in her grasp as she barely manages to pull it free from his clothes.

“Fuck,”Gale grits out, a rare curse for the wizard- for once all other words but profanity failing him. His fingers in her cunt pause as she wraps her own around him. The hand on her ribs pulls her tighter, as she feels the heat of him against her palm. Can feel the weight of his cock, can trace the veins along his length as she runs her fingers over him- the stick of precum when she touches the head. Gale breathing rough and ragged against her temple.

“Gods, I can’t even get my fingers around you,” she blurts out, taking the rare chance to be the talkative one- surprised by just how thick he is in her hand. She’s no halfling or gnome, but her favorite wizard stands a good foot or more taller than her- size difference palpable in how her fingers struggle to meet around him.

He bites beneath her ear,rocking his fingers back into her- pace harsher and rough as she tries to stroke him. Smearing precum down his cock as best she can, trying to make an easier slide of her hand up and down his cock, feeling it twitch against her fingers. A rough ragged groan against her skin, her insides clenching as his fingers fuck into her- thoughts of how his cock will feel, how much more it’ll split her open, making the drag of his fingers that much slicker.

“So pretty in my arms, love- right where you belong, so sweet and desperate for me,” he rasps against her ear and she squeezes her fingers around him, feeling the stutter and stall in his hand inside of her. The strained growl against her jaw, his expression furrowed and tense- his jaw visibly clenched, eyes clenched shut. Perhaps the first time he’s fully taken his eyes off of her.

He doubles his efforts between her thighs, working his fingers more harshly into her, fucking his fingers roughly into her. Each thrust and drag along her insides making her sees stars and not just the ones he’s conjured for her. Pleasure spiking higher and higher, building her up- her cunt clenching around him. She tries to work her own hand faster too, cursing herself for not having more experience with this sort of anatomy.

And then a thought, a singular thought manages to surge above the fog his fingers have put into her mind. She needs it to be wetter, slicker, his precum helping but not enough for her liking. Her gestures are sloppy and messy, haphazard with need- pulling her hand off of him, he curses faintly, the feeling of his eyes back on her. She leans forward just a little to drool against her hand, gathering as much spit and saliva as she can, strands straining from her lips. Spit dribbling down her chin and she can only hope he’s not disgusted by the sight, but it’s left her hand wet. Another ragged breath, inhale and exhale against her as she wraps her spit slick fingers around him.

His lips surge forward, catching her own in a messy crash, teeth clanging together as he kisses her- his tongue swiping to catch the spit that clings to her her skin, hungrily groaning into her mouth. She tries to keep up, tightens her grip as much as she can without fearing hurting him, her hand sliding up and down much easier with the glide of her drool and his precum. The piss poor excuse for lube allowing her to at the very least move her hand faster, trying to match the pace he’s set with his fingers inside of her. His palm presses down more firmly, the heel of hand finding her clit. A rough tempest of pleasure jolting through her nerves.

And it’s a rough mix of kisses, moving hands. Being fucked apart by his fingers, grinding against her clit, pushing her closer and closer. A echoing squelch as he takes her apart, the wet slide of flesh against flesh as she strokes his cock- the hungry groans and soft sounds of their kisses, everything consuming her every sense. Pushing her closer and closer, coil pulling tighter, tighter. The drag and tease of him inside of her, the grind against her sensitive clit- the promise of what’s come with his cock twitching in her hand, the bite of his teeth against her lower lip.

The world seems to split apart, crack open, and fall away from her- everything crashed into pleasure, thrown over the edge again. Twitching and writhing beneath his hand, hips thrashing and fucking herself through the shocks. The faint curse and snarl against her lips, the twitch in her hands- the heat of seed spilling over her fingers and hip

Then she’s falling, world truly carrening out from beneath her, yelping as her ass thumps painfully into the muck. A sharp jolt of pain through her tailbone, Gale trying to tug her closer, squeezing her tightly as the world physically shifts around them, his face burying into her hair.

“Gods damn it.”

Petra tries to process the sudden mix of just plain fucking pain. The cold cling of mud to her ass, blinking through the blissed out fog in her mind- no longer coated in the green blue glow of a shifting sky. No longer is her ass burried in a soft silken mass of blankets and sheets, now aching in the cold cling of muddy shadow curse dirt. The only light a mounted torch with faint flickering orange flames. There’s no traces of Gale’s illusions, just him and Petra- naked and sweaty in a patch of mud. The wizard holding her tightly, his face hidden in the top of her head- possibly the most bashful she’s ever seen him, even in their awkward little flirting moments, she’s never known him to physically hide his expression from her.

“Gale… honey?” She says, using a rare term of endearment for her- those usually his territory.

“Mmhm,” he hums vaguely against her scalp.

“I have mud on my ass.”

“As do I.”

“Is there a particular reason why?” She tries, trying not to laugh as she tries to understand why he’s suddenly thrown them into the muck- if he wanted to rut in the dirt, she wouldn’t have been opposed to it, but it seems a little sudden and out of character for a man who still tries desperately to smell like lavender and bath oils while traipsing through the wilderness for days on end.

“Ah well,” he murmurs, finally pulling back and allows her to see his face- cheeks ruddy, sweat beading his skin, his eyes looking down at his slick wet fingers, “Some conjuring and illusionary spells require… concentration to be maintained. And while my multitasking abilities are certainly exemplary,that focus can be particularly hard to keep when…”

“When you’re getting jerked off?”

“Not the wording I would have chosen, but- yes,” he admits, still avoiding her eyes.

And she tries- she truly tries, biting her lip and gritting her teeth, because she wants to be mindful of his embarrassment. But her stomach tenses as a rush of laughter burbles out, snorting as giggles turn to cackles, pressing her hands to her mouth- body aching as she cracks up.

She made him cum so hard the fucking spell broke. It’s so ridiculous, it’s so asinine, she can’t help but laugh- the pain in her tailbone now eclipsed by way her belly aches in laughter. And it only dies when she looks back at Gale, his head bowed slightly still- his eyes avoiding her and guilt eats at her heart. A part of her having hoped he’d be laughing along, that he’d see the humor in this.

“Gale..” She whispers his name, her voice a little ragged and rough.

“My apologies, I- this is not how I wanted this night to go for us, for you,” he explains, face far too contrite and shamed for what is just a silly little mishap, “I think, perhaps, another night if I conserve more of my energy during the day than I did today, I should be able to maintain the illusions for longer.”

“Gale…”

“Or perhaps, I can do just a little more research, see if I can find variations that require less concentration or maybe none at all,” he prattles onward, “I swear, my love, I can give you the night you deserve, I just may need more preparation than I expected, but I will make this up to you, I’ll-”

“Gale!” She yells his name more firmly, finally looking at her- his eyes soft and vulnerable and she feels like she’s scolded a puppy but she leans forward to cup his face, “There is nothing for you to make up for.”

“We’re lying in mud, my dear.”

“Yes, we are lying in the mud and my stomach is streaked in cum because I jerked you off so hard you forgot how to be wizard for a minute- I’m not mad, it’s really fucking funny,” she reiterates, nuzzling his nose with hers as she tries to swallow her giggles- desperately trying to get him to just laugh. His lips curl into a shadow of a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach those big brown eyes.

“Perhaps- but I didn’t bring you here to make you laugh, I brought you here to give you a perfect night, to make the joining of our bodies as beautiful as the joining of our souls. And we are lying in mud, you deserve more… I want to give you more.”

“Gale, the night we joined souls you started off by showing me a book of people sixty-nining.”

“A very poignant and beautiful book about newlyweds becoming one in every sense of the word-”

“By putting their mouths on each other’s genitals.”

“That was one aspect of the process, yes- however-”

She silences him with a kiss, soft and chaste- just enough to muffle the words threatening to pour from his lips. Petra pulls just a half breath away, leaning her forehead against Gale’s. Feeling the warmth of him, the cling of the sweat on both of them, smelling the salt of it on him.

“I love you,” she murmurs, whispers it and hopes he can feel the adoration she pours into every syllable, meeting his gaze head on as her voice cracks, “I love you so fucking much and you’re so so much more than I deserve- and if you cannot believe that, trust that I do, that I truly mean it.”

“I do, I truly do, I just, everything you’ve done for me, everything that you are- you deserve the world.”

“And yet the only thing I want from it is you.”

“Petra…”

“So, for a moment, worry less about what you think I deserve and listen to what I want,” she asks, murmuring against his lips, skimming her thumb over his cheekbone, “I don’t need perfection and I don’t need pageantry and I don’t care if it’s messy or funny or weird- I want you, I need you. So please, let me have you. Don’t pull away, don’t scuttle off and worry yourself to pieces because something went wrong. Laugh with me, kiss me, fuck me- gods damn it.”

“Anything for you, dear,” he says and their lips come together again, another reverent press of their mouths- she places her palm against his shoulder, pushing softly.

Quick witted as ever, he gets the idea- laying back for her and shifting off of his side, onto his ass properly as she throws a leg over his hips. His still hard cock bumping against her cunt as she settles on top of him. Breaking their kiss to pepper them across his jaw, nipping at his flesh through his beard, kissing down the marks that curl across his neck. Following them to the middle of his chest, where the orb burned through his flesh- pressing a kiss where the skin is forever bruised blue. The deep rumble of a groan in his throat making heat rush between her thighs.

She sits back a bit, looking down at him- sweat tangled hair, ruddy cheeks, chest laid bare beneath her, and the faint orange glow of the torch light. Her hands run up his chest, thick and broad beneath her- body hair the roughest part of him, scratching beneath her palms.

“Absolutely perfect,” she whispers, raking her nails along the swell of his pecs.

“My thoughts exactly,” he returns, his hands gripping her hips as he smears a thumb through the streaks of cum still on her skin, and she can’t resist rolling her eyes- as if she wasn’t the one to initiate this round of corniness.

Through the flickers of amber light, she notices a flash of deep purple fabric- Gale’s sleep shirt he’d tossed aside earlier. She lifts up a little further on her knees, leaning over him to reach for it, twisting her fingers in the soft fabric.

“Eep!” She yelps at the sudden heat of his tongue and mouth on her chest, a sharp nip to the underside of her breast- “That is not why I was leaning over!”

He smiles and laughs against her chest as she playfully swats at his chest, settling back to her position- his tunic still dangling from her fingers. Gale smiling up at her, too handsome for her to feel any measure of malice.

“You can hardly blame for falling to temptation, especially when it comes to you.”

“You underestimate just how much I’m willing to blame you for anything,” she teases before shifting forward just slightly- “Lift your back up a bit for me?”

“Of course,” he obliges, quickly getting her intent as they softly arrange his sleep shirt on the ground- it’s no four poster bed, but it’ll get his back out of the mud.

“Not much, but-”

“I feel positively pampered.”

“Well, I do live to spoil you,” she teases back, considering for a moment wrangling his pants and underwear down further- his cock still the only thing that’s freed. But, that also means his ass has a modicum of coverage against the mud. Spoiling him again- obviously.

Petra keeps one hand steady on his chest and the other reaches beneath her, feeling again the heat and weight of his cock in her hand. She hums, whines as she steadies her grip around the base of him- a groan deep in his chest, rumbling beneath her as she drags the head of his cock along her cunt. Her body aches with need as she lines him up with her entrance, Gale's hands grip her tighter. His fingers dip into her skin as his breath hitches and his jaw clenches tight.

And she sinks down, her voice straining into a wordless cry as the head of his cock slides into her. Barely even inside of her and already stretching her wide, even having had him in her hand, but she needs to take a moment- not expecting just how much she’d be split open.Not painful, far too slick and ready for it to do anything feel incredible, if just a little new for her.

A strained creak in his tone: “That’s it, no rush- take your time, if it’s too much, you only need to say the word.”

“Gods no, no, it feels good- really fuckin’ good,” she assure him, voice rough and breathy, biting her lip as she starts to slowly lower herself down further, “So, so fucking good, fuck.”

“There you are, taking me so well- perfect around me, like you were made for me,” he praises, voice gritted and his fingers grasping her tighter as her cunt clenches around him, the adoration stirring her insides as his cock buries within them.

Every inch a deeper press, a tighter stretch, never painful but always full- like he could truly split her apar at any moment. But it’s never too much, the drag and sink of him perfect, absolutely perfect. A babble of breathless noise and nonsense on her tongue as she he carves a path into her- her hips finally settling when she’s about to scream out and there’s no more of him to take. Feeling the faint scratch of his body hair where they join, barely tugged down pants rough against her thighs and ass.

The back of his head hits the dirt, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat- his eyes closed as his moves just slightly beneath her. Bracing his feet in the dirt, knees bending slightly as his hips lift up. Bucking inside of her, a sharp lightning strike of pleasure ripping through her- lurching her forward body forward, bracing her hands against his chest as she cries out.

“Fuck!”

“Ah, sorry, are you-”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, I’m good, gods, I’m good,” she rushes to assure him, digging her nails into his skin, leaning forward to kiss at his jaw, groaning against his skin when it grinds him against her insides.

Tentatively, she starts to rock herself on top of him, cursing as she starts to lift off him just a bit, whining at the drag of him inside of her. His hands allowing her to move, guiding her gently despite the harsh dig of his nails, digging red ragged crescents into her skin- blue bruises forming beneath his harsh touch.

Petra barely pulls up before she lowers herself back down, his name on her lips as she’s filled with him again. Her grip on him only growing more desperate- more bruising, as she starts to find a harsher, quicker pace- bouncing herself on his cock, body thrumming and pleasure twisting tight as she tries to slam down hard enough on him. Tries to hit the right spot inside of her, grind her clit just right against his skin as she tries to set her pace. Her motions frantic and desperate, smearing and streaking slick across his skin and clothes, every desperate slam of her hips making her that much wetter, that much more accommodating, body frantic to welcome him into her over and over again.

“Gods, your cunt doesn’t even want to let go of me, look so pretty with my cock inside of you,” he groans, her inside clenching at his choice of words, Gale’s cheeks flushed beneath the dark hair of his beard- his face screwed tight with his pleasure as his cock twitches inside of her squeezing walls. Petra in a frenzy as she fucks herself stupid, rides him as hard as she can, getting pushed closer and closer to the brink- pathetically close to her end, just a little more, a little more.

His hands move further back, curling around her ass, sinking his fingers into the plush flesh- her whimpering at the grope, the feeling of his warm digging into her- squeezing her so tightly. Harsh and firm, when hips roll into her, thrusting in as she sinks down- striking the very nerves she couldn't quite hit hard enough, a torrent of heat and need, stars dancing before her eyes without any magic. The force of his hips jolts her, her shaky arms giving out, her body collapse flush to his chest, nails digging into him as her face presses into his sweat slick skin. Pliant and boneless as Gale takes over the pace, gripping his ass tight between his hands and steadying her as he fucks her apart.

And it’s pitiful how much better it is with him in control, Gale knowing her body and what she needs or perhaps just that much better at giving it to her. Harsh brutal snaps of his hips, every rut of him into her making her body thrum, her mind blanked with every strike at her deepest parts. Carving her out, splitting her open, burying himself into her over and over again- the wet squelch of him into her. Holding her vise tight to his chest, her sensitive tits scratched by his body hair a his motions rock and shift her against him. One hand leaving her ass to wrap around her middle, holding her tighter, clinging closer- his face buried to her temple as he fucks into her, uses her, splits her insides, and makes her body fit hims so perfectly. Not even able to hear or comprehend the whispers and praise whispered against her sweat tangled hair- gripping him tighter, Gale inside her and yet somehow nowhere near close enough. Not able to cling tight enough, not able to burrow far enough into his skin as she burns beneath the sharp bruising pace he drives into her.

Then it all snaps, world shattering and cracking apart, crying out against his chest- mind empty with nothing but pleasure, clenching tight as he pulses inside of her. Squeezing around him, thrashing within his grasp, toes and fingers clenching- curling against him, around him, into him.

A few more harsh thrusts, rushed and hurried into her, followed by a rush of heat. The spill of cum into her insides, burning hot in her cunt, filling her- flooding her, warm in her fucked raw body. She pants and sighs against his skin, breaths rough as she comes back to earth and with no falling this time. He holds her like a promise, tight and reverent, kissing across her scalp and forehead as he rolls through the last of his ebbs of pleasure. Messy as he fills her with his cum, whining against his flesh, she feels it split out between the space where they connect. Filled to the brink with him, overflowed and spilling over with it, feeling it stick and cling to their thighs, their hips, where they meet. The languid slowly roll of him into her fucking his seed back into her, before his hips finally still as the last drop fills hers her, only to drip out again.

They lay in the flickering torch light, skin wet with sweat and settling into each other’s flesh. His heart thunders and pounds beneath his skin, where her ear is pressed tight to him. Able to hear the desperate race and her own hammers in kind, in pace with each other, some relief that may be as ruined and ragged by her as she is by him. Only the sound of thundering hearts and them catching their breath, the faintest chirp of insects from the shadows.

Slowly, steadily, the moments tick forward but time hardly feels like it’s touching them. Only the calming of their breaths and hearts marking the passage. His hands stroke and rub along her back, tracing her sweaty spine, both reach down to idly rub and stroke her lower back, pressing gentle reverence into her aching muscles. His lips burning adoration where they kiss her scalp, skim the scar of her forehead- she shifts to tuck her chin against his chest, looking up at his soft loving gaze.

His hands push the hair off her forehead, cup her cheeks, thumbs stroking over the freckles that mark her face. A breath of a kiss against her forehead, her eyes closing beneath the touch.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he praises, her eyes opening, her nose wrinkling as she blows a raspberry at him and his stupidly precious compliments- he laughs, “And a complete brat.”

“Hmm, you love it.”

“That I do,” he reponds to her teasing, another kiss and she meets his his lips. Sighing softly, knowing they can’t stay like this forever.

Gently, she sits herself back up,Gale’s hands roaming down her sides- not missing the crease of disappointment in his brow when she’s no longer pressed flushed to his chest. She blinks, swallowing a gasp as she looks down at him. Rough raised scratches now mark his chest, thin red lines where her nails streaked his flesh and just managed to break it. Gently, her nails brush the marks.

“Sorry, I’ll rub some salve and balsam ointment over it for you when we get back,” she promises, guilt creeping in- her nails are polished and due to her left, often have more dirt on them than she’d like- she could cause him an infection, “Maybe I should learn a healing cantrip or two…”

“Thought you believed relying too much on healing magic was a crutch,” he asks, smiling up at her as he chimes the words she’s spoken so many a times when him or Shadowheart try to heal her when she only needs a bandage or a few dozen stitches.

“I mean, for me, yes,” she murmurs, knowing it’s hypocritical- but it’s different when it’s him- he smiles, placing his hands over hers. She pulls her palms from his marked skin, bringing them to the press of his lips.

“Worry not, dear- I hardly mind being marked by you,” he promises her, smiling against her knuckles and her nose wrinkles, his sweet words stirring her heart and only one response falls to her lips.

“Blegh,” she spats, mock gagging at his corny existence, even if her cheeks are flushed and her heart thumping- he drops her hands, reaching out quick and giving a small sharp swat of his hand to her ass- “Ah, hey!”

“Do not make gagging noises whilst I am inside of you,” he hisses, voice raised and incredulous- with just the softest edge of a laugh, his lips pulling back to a smile as she giggles.

“Fine,” she reponds, rolling laguidly off of him- letting his cock slip out of her and plopping into the mud beside of him, giving a pointed look- “Blech!”

“Darling-”

“What I’ll no longer gag while you’re inside of me,” she promises, teasing him and his choice of words. His brown eyes rolls, a tut on his lips as he looks at her, before a different glint places.

“Well, there can certainly be exceptions to the rule, should you wish,” he teases and after a beat, his meaning catches her- a way he’d be tucked inside of her that he’d accept her gagging, the idea of tasting him, and feeling him in her throat…

“Is that something you’d wish?” She asks back, smiling a little- grin only widing when he clears his throat.

“Another time, right now…” His voice trails and she watches him shift slight, a a little strained groan of pain his throat.

“Your back killing you?”

“Terribly so,” he admits, shaking his head and starting to sit up with a small grunt- his old achey muscles and joints always giving him issues. But it doesn’t stop him from pulling her over, tucking her into his lap as he sits; “Here, lets get you out out of the mud, dear.”

She giggles, nuzzling into his neck as he make her plop her cum and dirt streaked ass in his lap. And as the afterglow fades and reality settles in her bones, she starts to realize some increasingly pressing concerns. The two are streaked in sweat, mud, and fluids. Her fingers brushing flecks of dirt off Gale’s shoulders, where his skin still met the dirt. His hair messy and tangled with little clumps of dirt, his skin warm and smelling of sweat and musk, Petra unable to help inhaling against his chest.

Beneath them, his shirt is caked in mud, grinding into the dirt under their bodies. His only kind of on pants streaked with cum, clearly stained, dirt on back of it. Her own clothes are tossed in the dirt as well, having hit the dirt through the illusion. Mud on her back and some clinging to her ass, streaked where his fingers groped her- a mess of cum between her thighs.

And they do have to go back to camp.

“Uhm, do you have a spell to clean us and our clothes?” She asks, traces her nails over his neck.

“Yes and no,” he explains, expression slightly tense, one hand on her hip, the other gesticulating with a pointed finger, “Prestidigitation can quite easily clean our clothes, with a bit of folding for mine perhaps, and is cantrip as well- fairly simple, only lasts an hour I”m afraid, but that would certainly be long enough to get back and safely tuck ourselves away in our tent.”

“Mmhm..”

“However, it is specific to objects and those of a certain footage, which- you and I do not qualify as. And between our fights of the day and my illusionary work, it’ll take a good nights rest before I can cast much more than a cantrip, so…”

“So, our clothes will be clean, but we’ll be traipsing back with dirt on our skin and reeking of sex,” she double checks because there’s no river near the clearing- the camp using warmed basins of conjured magic for a while now. Which are back at camp. Where their companions are.

“Or we could stay here for a night…”

“And keep tally of the number of shadow cursed insects that inevitably crawl up our assholes.”

“There are the bugs…”

“I think we may have to face the music on this one,” she says, knowing sculking and sneaking back to camp is not a choice- not with Gale’s knees.

“Alas, reality returns far too soon,” he muses, looking down at her where she’s still balanced within his arms and her cheek to his chest, “Still the night you wanted?”

She giggles- they’re caked in mud, sweat, and cum. Sitting in the muck of a cursed lands, the threat of returning to camp to prying eyes and questioning voices. The only reason they can even safely sit here with monsters prying flesh from their limbs and darkness creeping into their souls is the blessing of a captured pixie. Demands of goddesses and moonstruck kingdoms ran by cults all on the horizon. But his arms are wrapped flush around her, the smell of his skin in her nose, the ache of where he was inside her. Skin marked in his love.

“It’s perfect.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale/tav #gale/fem!tav #bg3 fanfic #this is also going up on my ao3 and i'll reblog with the link if anyone prefers that method #but i finally had something I could throw on this blog again

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