#much. or the things I could think of were kind of unsuitable for this

[locusfandomtime]

A (somewhat) genuine “What your favourite hermit says about you” chart because my joke one was so popular

Obvious disclaimer: do not take too seriously! these aren’t necessarily true! this is like 50% a joke! i mean everything here positively!

i am still right though. anyways let me know who you are I’m a zed fan

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓍𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒! 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓁

This Christmas special was inspired by Valentine's Special [2nd Love Interest] by @fantasia-kitt (the creator!)

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

Also, this ties in with Tkatb’s 1st anniversary, which was yesterday, the 23rd! I’m super proud of how far this little game has come.

Anyway, happy reading! Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season!

The crisp, cool December air wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the kind that reminded you of winter's quiet power. You stepped out of the lecture hall, your final class a fading echo behind you. 

The world, for a moment, felt as if it had been held in stasis: college was finally behind you, and relief surged through your veins like a slow, satisfying exhale.

You almost burst out laughing at the thought.

Thank God that's fucking over.

It totally drained you, and ate away at your insides until you felt there was nothing left but pure exhaustion. But then, as it all started to sink in, this weird emptiness crept up, like that quiet moment right before a storm hit.

The goodbyes, those last waves, and parting words were still stuck in your chest, kinda just out of reach, weighing on you like you were still tied to something that wasn’t done.  

Then your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the screen and spotted Brittney’s name.

Brittney: REMINDER! Gift exchange on Christmas Eve, my place at 7! Don’t be late, or you’ll owe me extra cookies.

You scoffed and let out a soft chuckle. Brittney had this incredible thing for making demands with a level of authority that was, somehow, oddly charming. As much as you rolled your eyes at her, you couldn’t deny that her quirks always brought a smile to your face.

Still, as your gaze flicked back to the message, a groan bubbled up in your chest. You scrolled back through her earlier messages to confirm what you already knew. 

"Great," you muttered under your breath. Brittney had really gone all out this year, assigning everyone a specific person to shop for, and, of course, you ended up with Crowe. 

You exhaled, frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—he was one of your closest friends—but trying to find a gift for someone who had everything felt like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

You could almost hear his voice in your head, teasing, cutting through whatever you picked out: “Really? This is what you think of me?” Of course, he’d never say anything like that—but what if he didn’t like it? What if he hated whatever you got him? The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest.

You shook your head and continued walking toward the bus stop, the weight of the decision hanging over you. Simple wouldn’t cut it, but anything too over the top would make him throw a sarcastic comment at it.

You had to find something that hit that sweet spot—the kind of gift that felt thoughtful without making him retreat into one of his jokes.

As if your thoughts weren’t already tangled enough, your phone buzzed again. You hesitated, almost instinctively glancing down. 

Hyugo: Hey, what are you doing Christmas Eve? Sol and I are planning to check out the lights walk at the park. You should come!

A smile tugged at your lips. Typical Hyugo—direct, unfiltered, full of energy. His message was as breezy as his personality. And then there was Sol’s name, and that grin only deepened. The two of them together were a comedy show on legs—Sol’s quiet balance countering Hyugo’s endless whirlwind of ideas and antics. 

You stood still, fingers hovering over the screen.

Christmas Eve. 

Oh no…

For a moment, the thought of walking through the park with them, bathed in twinkling lights, was tempting. It would be the perfect kind of distraction, a night filled with laughter, just as you’d imagine.

You pictured Hyugo pulling you and Sol into whatever wild antics he’d planned, Sol trying (and failing) to keep everything in check with his usual, resigned eye rolls.

But then, as your thumb hovered over the screen, your thoughts drifted back to Crowe. 

Last week, in the group chat, Crowe had mentioned something cryptic about "making big plans" for the holiday. He’d shrugged it off when Brittney pressed for details, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had something in mind that involved the whole group.

You felt the weight of his words in your mind.

Would it be weird to bail on him now? 

You sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket as the bus stop loomed closer. 

"Why is it never simple with these friend groups?" you muttered under your breath.

Now, you had two conflicting decisions on your hands: find the perfect gift for Crowe, and decide whether you were spending Christmas Eve with him and his friends or tagging along with Hyugo and Sol on their sparkling adventure.

Your mind raced with the uncertainty, and the thought of making the "right" choice felt more elusive than ever.

The mall was buzzing with the kind of chaotic energy only the holiday season could bring—families weaving in and out of stores, the sound of Christmas music drifting from every corner, and glittering displays of tinsel and fairy lights winking at you from every window.

You hadn’t stepped foot in a mall in ages—mostly sticking to the convenience of online shopping and the hunts of thrift stores—but here you were, begrudgingly dragging Brittney along in your quest for the perfect gift for Crowe. 

“I still don’t get why you’re this stressed about it,” Brittney said, effortlessly balancing a caramel macchiato in one hand while gesturing with the other as she walked beside you. “It’s Jericho. He’ll probably be smiling no matter what you give him. Honestly, wrap up a rock, and he’ll love it anyway.”

You let out a long, drawn-out groan, clutching your coat tighter as you passed yet another store that screamed not Crowe enough. “That’s exactly why it’s stressful! If I give him something random, he’ll think I didn’t put any thought into it. And if it’s too thoughtful—well, you know how he gets.”

Brittney raised an eyebrow, her heels clicking against the tile floor like the beat of a very judgmental drum. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. But fine, we’ll find him something perfect.” She paused dramatically, then grinned like the cat who’d just caught the canary. “Right after we fix this.”

She motioned toward you like you were a mannequin in need of serious intervention. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, already dreading whatever plan she was about to hatch.

“Oh, come on,” she said, practically yanking your arm as she steered you toward a clothing store. “You cannot show up to my place tomorrow night wearing your same old flare jeans-and-sweater combo in dull colors. It’s festive! It’s Christmas! You need to bring your A-game.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a small get-together,” you protested, resisting her tug.

“It is. Small but fabulous. Which is why I, as your friend, am going to make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed.” She pulled a sequined dress from a nearby rack with the kind of flourish reserved for Broadway stars. “What do we think? Too much?”

You stared at the dress in horror. It was so sparkly it could probably be seen from space. You shot her a flat look. “If I wear that, Crowe will definitely never let me live it down.”

“Fine, fine,” Brittney said, laughing and tossing the dress back on the rack with the grace of a fashionista throwing a tantrum. “But you’ve got to admit, you’d turn heads.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as she tossed another, more reasonable outfit your way.

After what felt like an eternity—and after Brittney vetoed every “boring” outfit you tried to pick—finally, you emerged from the dressing room with a pretty outfit, you both agreed with. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Brittney said, clapping her hands in approval. “Chic, confident, and just a little bit mysterious. You’re welcome.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head. “I guess it’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning offense. “Please, you look amazing. Crowe is going to have his jaw on the floor.”

You shot her a look, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Why are you bringing him into this?”

Brittney smirked knowingly. “Oh, please. Like you don’t know.” 

You rolled your eyes, but her grin was infectious, and you couldn’t suppress the smallest of smiles.

After leaving the clothing store—with Brittney carrying your new outfit like it was her triumph—you wandered into a cozy little shop filled with knick-knacks and handcrafted items. It had that eclectic, artsy vibe that immediately made you think of Crowe.  

Brittney was busy examining a shelf of scented candles when she asked casually, “So, do you ever think about dating?” You froze, nearly dropping the ceramic figurine you were holding. “Excuse me? Where did that come from?”  

“I mean, it’s the holidays,” she said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Romance is in the air. And you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with a certain pair of guys.”  

Your stomach flipped. “Brittney...”  

“Come on,” she pressed, leaning against the shelf with a teasing grin. “It’s Jericho, isn’t it? Or wait—maybe that dude with the green streaks in his hair?” She paused, thinking, “What’s his name again…?” She asked. You rolled your eyes, “Sol.” 

“Right, the quiet one that likes to draw…” She mentioned.

“So? The prince or the artist?”  

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Sol, with his warm, laid back nature, always made you feel like you could be yourself.

But Crowe... had a way of drawing you in, his sharp wit and creativity sparking something you couldn’t quite name.  

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Brittney’s expression softened, her teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “Hey, no pressure. I just think... whoever you pick, they’re lucky to have you.”  

As you walked through the mall, still thinking about her words, you stumbled upon something that made you stop in your tracks.  

It was a gorgeous, handcrafted music box, intricately carved with a winter scene. You’d seen it before on display, months ago, and fallen in love with it. But the price tag had always kept it just out of reach.

You’d told yourself it wasn’t practical—your money had to go toward rent, groceries, and textbooks, not something so frivolous.  

Yet here it was, glimmering in the soft light as if waiting for you.  

“What’s that?” Brittney asked, peeking over your shoulder.  

You swallowed hard. “It’s... something I’ve wanted for a while. But it’s too expensive.”  

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, then back at the music box. “Maybe it’s time to treat yourself for once. It’s Christmas, after all.”  

You shook your head, stepping away reluctantly. “I can’t. I need to stick to my budget.”  

Brittney frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she linked her arm with yours and said, “All right, let’s go. We’ve still got to find gifts.”  

By the time you left the mall, you were exhausted but triumphant. You’d found the perfect gifts—Brittney had, of course, insisted on adding a bow to each package.  

With the gifts secured, you headed home, your thoughts kept drifting back to the music box—and to the question, you couldn’t quite answer.

Crowe or Sol?  

Standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed the soft fabric of the outfit Brittney had picked out for you—a cozy yet stylish off-shoulder sweater black sweater dress paired with maroon tights, and a matching bow that sits on your nightstand.

It fit perfectly, hitting all the curves, and you had to admit, Brittney had an annoyingly good eye. When she handed you the bag earlier, she had waved away your protests with a grin.  

“Think of it as a gift,” she’d said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I had no clue what to get you anyway, so this counts. You’re welcome.”  

You laughed at the memory as you reached for the maroon bow. It was a small, thoughtful gesture from her, but it carried more weight than she probably realized. Brittney always had a way of showing her care through actions, even if she hid it behind sarcasm.  

Your gaze shifted to your phone on the dresser, the screen still lit up with Hyugo’s text. You tapped your nails on the dresser, reading the message again and again. The idea of strolling under the glowing canopy of Christmas lights was tempting. Hyugo’s steady, dependable presence had always been a source of comfort, and Sol...  

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Sol.

He wasn’t the loudest or the most expressive, but he had a quiet way of showing he cared. Whether it was walking on the side of the road closest to traffic or remembering your favorite snacks when you studied late.

Sol went out of his way to protect you in the subtlest ways.  

But then there was Crowe.  

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, sighing softly as you adjusted the collar of your sweater dress. Crowe was the opposite of Sol in many ways—charismatic, quick-witted, and always so present. He had a way of being there when you needed him most, whether it was cracking a joke to pull you out of a bad mood or reminding you to take care of yourself when you pushed too hard.

Crowe didn’t just care about you; he saw you.  

Your brush stilled in your hand as your thoughts tangled. Sol, with his quiet strength and unspoken devotion, versus Crowe, whose vibrant energy and unwavering support had become a constant in your life. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt torn like this, but tonight, with everything hanging in the air, the question loomed larger than ever.  

You placed the brush down and reached for your phone. Your thumb hovered over the screen, Hyugo’s text still unanswered.  

The truth was, both options held their kind of magic. You could picture yourself with Sol and Hyugo, laughing as Sol attempted to grab a runaway balloon from a vendor at the Christmas lights. But you could also imagine spending the night with Crowe and the rest of the group, his familiar presence anchoring you as the chaos of the party swirled around you, perhaps playing games and catching up. 

You bit your lip, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a long breath. There wasn’t a perfect answer, and no amount of overthinking would make the choice any easier. Finally, you set the phone down with a soft thud and looked back at your reflection.  

“Just go with your gut,” you murmured to yourself.  

As you adjusted your clothes in the minor one last time, you headed to your living room. You put on your leather boots, then grabbed your coat, and you made your way toward the door.

No matter what decision you made tonight, you knew one thing for certain: the holidays weren’t about the lights, the gifts, or even the plans—they were about the people who mattered most to you.  

And whether that person was Crowe or Sol... maybe the night would help you figure that out.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

You stood in front of your front door, staring at your phone screen as your thumb hovered over the keyboard. Hyugo’s invitation sat open on your messaging app, the words staring back at you like a challenge.  

Spending Christmas Eve with him and Sol sounded wonderful. The idea of walking under glowing lights, sharing laughter and stories, and basking in the quiet warmth of their presence was so tempting. You could already picture Sol’s quiet, steady energy and Hyugo’s easygoing humor, balancing each other out like always.  

But then there was Brittney’s party. She had been planning it for weeks, texting in all caps about the details and how “NO ONE was allowed to skip out unless they wanted to face my WRATH.” And Crowe… well, Crowe had been unusually involved in the group chat about the exchange. You could sense his subtle excitement, even though he’d never admit it outright.  

Your heartfelt caught between two equally important choices. One evening with Hyugo and Sol would mean stepping away from the rest of your friends, missing out on the little traditions that had brought you all closer. And yet, declining Hyugo’s invitation felt like a lost chance to make a special memory with him and Sol.  

Biting your lip, you finally typed out a reply, your fingers moving hesitantly:  

You: I’d love to, but my friends already planned something. Maybe next time?  

You stared at the message for another moment before pressing send, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest.  

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed with Hyugo’s response:  

Hyugo: Got it. Have fun!  

You smiled softly at the screen, some of the tension in your chest easing. Hyugo was always so understanding—steady and reliable, no matter the situation. But before you could set your phone down, it buzzed again.  

The name flashing on the screen made your stomach flip.  

Sol.  

You hesitated for a beat before answering. “Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the sudden tightness in your throat.  

“Hey,” he replied, his voice calm but noticeably quieter than usual. “I just wanted to check... So, you’re not coming tonight?”  

Your chest tightened further at the faint thread of disappointment in his tone. “I’m really sorry, Sol,” you said, sighing softly. “I already have plans with others friends. I don’t want to bail on them.”  

There was a pause, long enough for your heart to sink. When Sol spoke again, his words were careful, and understanding, but there was no hiding the sadness that laced his tone. “It’s okay. I get it. Maybe we can hang out another time.”  

The lump in your throat grew heavier. “We definitely will,” you promised quickly, wishing you could say something to lighten the weight you could feel in his words.  

In the background, you heard Hyugo’s voice. “Is that them? Gimme the phone.”  

There was a rustling sound before Hyugo’s familiar warmth came through the line. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said with an easy chuckle. “We’ll survive without you. But next time, no excuses, okay?”  

The lightheartedness in his tone made your shoulders relax slightly. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, relieved by his usual charm. “Thanks, Hyugo. Have fun tonight, okay?”  

“You too!” he teased before adding, “And try not to let your friends drag you into too much chaos. See you soon.”  

The line clicked, leaving you standing in the quiet entryway of your apartment. You lowered the phone slowly, staring at it for a moment longer as an ache settled in your chest. Sol’s voice lingered in your mind, soft and careful, and you couldn’t help but wish things could have been different.  

But tonight, you reminded yourself, was about being with the others, about keeping the traditions you’d built with them alive. With a deep breath, you slipped your phone into your pocket and grabbed your coat, stepping into the night air with a mixture of anticipation and bittersweet longing swirling in your heart.  

The evening of the party arrived, and as you approached Brittney’s house, the warmth and energy of the gathering spilled out onto the deck porch. Golden light glowed from the windows, the cheerful hum of music and laughter drifting into the chilly December air.

You paused for a moment at the door, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you gathered your thoughts.  

With a steadying breath, you knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, and there was Brittney, her face lighting up with her signature, effervescent grin.  

“Finally! I thought you’d never get here,” she said, already reaching to help you with your coat.  

“Sorry, I was—”  

“Fashionably late,” she interrupted, her eyes scanning your outfit. A satisfied hum escaped her lips as she appraised you. “Now this is what I’m talking about. You’re stunning.”  

You laughed softly, slipping out of your coat to reveal the gorgeous outfit Brittney had insisted on picking for you—a soft black off the shoulder dressed, paired with maroon tights with an matching bow that made you feel both elegant and confident. She handed you a pair of house shoes, the ones you knew she kept around for occasions like this.  

“I feel like I’m overdressed,” you said lightly, but Brittney shook her head, waving a dismissive hand.  

“Overdressed? Please. It’s Christmas. You’re perfect.”  

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the cheerful din behind her.  

“Hey, you made it.”  

Your gaze shifted, and there stood Crowe. For a moment, you simply stared, taking him in. He wore an azure button-up shirt, paired with a black vest that complemented his rich brown skin, the deep hue drawing out the warm tones of his deep blue eyes. A sapphire brooch glinted at the center of a meticulously tied black bow around his collar, and his long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, tied back with a matching azure ribbon.  

In his hands, he held a small bouquet of blue irises.  

Your breath caught, and as he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his outfit . “Wow,” you murmured. “You look... princely.”  

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk faltering as a flicker of warmth crossed his expression. “And you look...” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before softening. “Really beautiful.”  

“Only tonight?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head.  

His eyes widened, and he stumbled over his words, flustered in a way you didn’t see often. “No, I mean—you look beautiful every day, but tonight you just—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish laugh escaped him.  

You both burst into laughter, the tension easing in an instant. Brittney rolled her eyes dramatically, patting Crowe’s shoulder as she passed. “Well, my work here is done,” she said, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “Don’t mess this up, princeling.”  

As Brittney disappeared back to the living room, leaving you and Crowe in the hallway. He turned his attention back to you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he said simply.  

You took the flowers carefully, the soft petals brushing your fingertips. Your eyes widened slightly as you studied the blooms. “Blue irises,” you said, your voice thoughtful. “They’re beautiful.”  

He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “I thought you’d like them. They’re supposed to mean hope and trust—or something like that.”  

“And wisdom,” you added, looking up at him with a smile. “The iris has been associated with wisdom and truth because of the Greek goddess Iris, who was a messenger for Zeus and Hera. And nobility, too—it’s been connected to royalty throughout history.”  

Crowe’s brow lifted, clearly impressed. “Well, aren’t you just a walking encyclopedia?”  

You grinned. “Maybe. But you picked well. Thank you.”  

The warmth in his gaze deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the party faded away.  

“You’re welcome,” he said softly.  

Soon the room was buzzing with anticipation as the gift exchange began. Brittney, playing hostess to perfection, had everyone seated in a loose circle, with the mountain of brightly wrapped presents taking center stage. You were perched on the edge of a couch, trying to calm the slight flutter in your chest as the turn order worked its way closer to Crowe.  

When his name was finally called, he shot to his feet with his usual flair, bowing dramatically as the room cheered. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, waving his hand like a performer accepting applause. “But this isn’t about me—it’s about you all witnessing the unveiling of my superior gift-giving skills.”  

Brittney rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it, princeling.”  

Crowe smirked at her before his gaze flicked to you. A mischievous glint lit his deep blue eyes as he strode toward you, a carefully curated basket in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his grin softening into something a little more sincere.  

“This one’s for you,” he said, holding the basket out with a slight flourish.  

You blinked, surprised as you took the basket from him. “For me?”  

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Well, yeah. You’re hard to shop for, so don’t judge me too harshly, okay?”  

You set the basket on your lap and began pulling back the tissue paper, and your eyes widened as you took in the contents. Inside were all your favorite things—snacks you couldn’t resist, small trinkets in your favorite color, and even a notebook that perfectly matched your aesthetic.  

“Crowe...” you murmured, already feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. But as you moved the tissue paper aside further, your gaze landed on something at the center that made your breath hitch—a beautifully crafted music box.  

“You...” You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Crowe shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of nervousness. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re always saying you have everything you need, and every time I offer to get you something, you turn me down like I’m trying to buy your soul or something.”  

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, I figured I’d just... cover all my bases. You know, a little bit of everything. And, uh... I remembered how much you like little tunes and stuff, so...” He motioned awkwardly to the music box, looking anywhere but directly at you.  

Your chest tightened as a wave of emotion swept over you. The thoughtfulness behind the gift—the way he’d paid attention to all the little details about you—left you speechless. Without thinking, you stood up, leaned toward him, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.  

“Thank you, Crowe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

For a moment, Crowe froze, his eyes wide as the room erupted into a chorus of whistles and teasing laughter. His hand flew to his cheek, and the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red.  

“Well, well, well,” Brittney said loudly, holding up her phone and snapping a picture. “Looks like Crowe’s the real winner tonight.”  

Crowe groaned, glaring playfully at her. “Don’t you have a party to host or something?”  

Brittney smirked. “This is hosting. Carry on, lovebirds.”  

The teasing didn’t stop there. Someone shouted, “How about a speech, Crowe?!” and someone else chimed in with, “Yeah, tell us how it feels to win Christmas!”  

Crowe sighed dramatically, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he appreciated the attention. “It feels like... a conspiracy,” he quipped, shooting you a quick, fond glance.  

As the laughter died down and the gift exchange continued, you found yourself clutching the basket tightly. You caught Crowe looking at you a few times, and each time, he offered a soft, almost shy smile.  

As the night wore on, the room buzzed with laughter and excitement. You sat quietly, watching the group banter back and forth, their camaraderie filling the space with a warmth that rivaled the glow of the twinkling fairy lights strung across the walls. Brittney flitted from group to group, her laughter ringing out as she teased someone about their gift-wrapping skills. Crowe’s voice cut through the chatter every so often, his witty remarks earning groans and snickers alike.  

You smiled at their antics, but the warmth in your chest was tinged with a bittersweet ache. The ease with which they all interacted—the history they shared—sometimes made you feel like an outsider, no matter how much they cared for you. You still felt new. You blinked quickly, willing away the sting in your eyes, but the knot in your throat tightened, looking down at your hands.

A quiet voice broke through your thoughts.  

“Hey.”  

You looked up to find Crowe standing beside you, his brow furrowed, concern softening his usually playful expression. He crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.  

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low so only you could hear.  

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile as you wiped at your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “I just need some fresh air.”  

He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he held out a hand, helping you up. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding you toward the door.  

Outside, the crisp night air greeted you, sharp and refreshing against your skin. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside felt distant now, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the faint twinkle of stars overhead.  

You leaned against the railing of the porch, closing your eyes for a moment as you took a deep breath. When you opened them again, Crowe was watching you, his expression unreadable.  

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Crowe noticed immediately, his brow knitting in concern. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief.  

He stepped closer, his movements gentle as he raised the handkerchief to your cheek, wiping the tear away. His touch was warm and deliberate, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.  

The tenderness of the gesture caught you off guard, and when he realized how close he was, his hand faltered. “Sorry, I—”  

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a small, shaky breath escaped you. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.  

His hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly.  

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the cool night air brushing against your faces. Eventually, Crowe leaned against the railing beside you, his arm brushing yours as he tilted his head back to look at the sky.  

“Do you know much about constellations?” he asked, his tone lighter now.  

You glanced at him, grateful for the change in mood. “A little. Why?”  

He pointed upward, his hand tracing the shape of a cluster of stars. “That one right there—that’s Cassiopeia. The queen who bragged about how beautiful she was and got herself in trouble with the gods.”  

You laughed softly. “Sounds like someone I know.”  

Crowe gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, I am humble to a fault.”  

“Sure, princeling,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.  

He grinned, his gaze drifting back to the stars. “Anyway, you’re more like Andromeda. You know, the princess who was chained to a rock but ended up becoming a constellation. Quiet strength, endless beauty... and the kind of person you can’t help but notice.”  

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, warm and sincere.  

“I...” You hesitated, your emotions threatening to spill over again. But instead of speaking, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small box.  

“I almost forgot,” you said, your voice steadying. “This is for you.”  

Crowe blinked, surprised, as he took the box from your hands. When he opened it, his expression softened even further. Inside were two matching necklaces, one in gold and one in silver, with interlocking stars at the center.  

“They fit together,” you explained, taking the gold one and clipping it around his neck. “Yours is gold and mine’s silver. I thought...” You hesitated again, suddenly shy. “I thought it’d be a nice reminder.”  

Crowe’s fingers brushed the charm, his gaze flicking between the necklace and you. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you.”  

The two of you stood close, the distance between you barely enough to breathe, yet it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Your hands brushed as you admired the matching necklaces, an unspoken connection flickering between the two of you. Crowe’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but then he suddenly laughed, his eyes catching something in the distance.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, your head tilting curiously, the soft flicker of the holiday lights casting a warm glow on your face.

He pointed upward, his eyes mischievous. “You didn’t notice?”

Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, its green leaves almost glowing under the lights. The realization hit you, and heat surged to your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your skin. You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing, and found him raising his hands in mock surrender, his lips curling into that knowing smile of his.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone playful but edged with something deeper, like he was daring you to take the plunge. “It’s just a tradition, you know—.”

But you didn’t let him finish.

Without a second thought, you stepped closer, closing the gap between you until you were mere inches apart. Your fingers gently cupped his cheek, and as his breath hitched, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was electric. Crowe froze for the briefest of seconds, as if surprised by your sudden boldness, but then he melted into it, his hands settling onto your waist, his touch firm yet careful. The world around you seemed to vanish, the only thing that existed was the sensation of his lips against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. It was soft, tender, but there was an intensity to it—like a fire that had been smoldering, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

His lips moved against yours, slow at first, savoring the closeness. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the way his chest pressed gently against yours. You pulled him in closer, your hands tangling in the fabric of his jacket, as though afraid that if you let go, the moment would slip away. His body was pressed against yours now, his chest flush against yours, his strong arms securing you in place, as if to make sure you didn’t fall.

When you finally pulled back, the air between you seemed charged, crackling with unspoken words. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, deeply in love and warm with something that made your heart race. He smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips, his voice low and tender when he finally spoke.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he whispered, his words almost lost in the space between your lips. His hand remained at the small of your back, holding you close, his fingers warm against your skin.

Before you could even process the weight of his words, a loud voice broke through the fragile moment.

“Got it!” Brittney crowed from the window, waving her phone triumphantly as if she had just captured a moment of great importance.

You groaned, your face immediately hiding in your hands, embarrassed, but Crowe just laughed, the sound warm and carefree, his arm effortlessly wrapping around your shoulders.

“Let them watch,” he said with a grin, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. “I don’t care.”

And for the first time that night, as his arm pulled you tighter against him, you didn’t care either.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

You stood motionless, phone resting in your hand, as you stared at the glowing screen.  

You: I’d love to come. When should I meet you?  

Hyugo’s response came almost immediately.  

Hyugo: 6:30 at the park entrance. Can’t wait!  

A small smile tugged at your lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You knew tonight would be special; Hyugo and Sol had a way of making even the simplest outings unforgettable. But as your gaze drifted to Crowe’s name in your contacts, the smile faded.  

Crowe.

He deserved to know you wouldn’t be there.

You owed him that much.  

Your thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating as a pang of guilt settled in your chest. This wasn’t an easy decision, but you couldn’t be everywhere at once. Taking a steadying breath, you pressed the button and lifted the phone to your ear.  

The line rang twice before Crowe answered, his familiar voice as warm and teasing as ever. “Hey, what’s up? Please don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me for tonight.”  

A soft laugh escaped you, but the guilt in your tone was unmistakable. “Not exactly chickening out, but... I can’t make it. I have other plans.”  

The silence that followed stretched long enough to make your chest tighten. You checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped, but then Crowe’s voice returned, quieter now.  

“Oh. I see. Well, that’s okay. I mean, we’ll miss you, but it’s not Christmas without options, right?”  

His attempt at lightness only deepened the ache in your heart. You could hear the subtle disappointment beneath his words, even if he was trying to hide it.  

“I’m sorry, Crowe,” you said softly. “I really hope you have a great time. Merry Christmas.”  

He chuckled lightly, though the usual energy in his laugh wasn’t there. “Yeah, you too. Take care, okay?”  

When the call ended, you stared at the blank screen for a moment, the weight of your choice pressing on you. Crowe’s voice lingered in your mind, and for a fleeting second, you almost reconsidered. But tonight was about something different—something you couldn’t quite name yet.  

Later that evening, you arrived at the park entrance, the crisp night air nipping at your cheeks as the scent of pine and roasted chestnuts filled the air. Strings of twinkling lights turned the trees into glowing sculptures, and the cheerful hum of holiday music mingled with the sound of children laughing and families chatting.  

Your breath puffed in the cold air as you scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Hyugo leaning against a lamppost, his tall frame relaxed and his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He gave you a small wave, but it wasn’t Hyugo who drew your attention.  

A few steps away stood Sol.  

He was dressed impeccably, his white button-up shirt and green suit jacket tailored perfectly to his lean frame. The deep green of the jacket brought out the striking shade of his eyes, and his neatly styled ponytail only emphasized the sharp lines of his face. His bangs framed his expression, highlighting the glint of the piercings lining his ears.  

But it was the bouquet in his hands that truly caught your attention. A cluster of green roses, delicate and vibrant against the cold winter backdrop.  

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward him, your eyes widening. “Green roses,” you said softly, taking the bouquet from his hands with care. “They’re about life and growth. Hope, too.”  

Sol blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression softened. A faint blush crept up his neck as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah... I thought you’d like them.”  

You couldn’t help yourself. Without thinking, you leaned forward and hugged him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.  

Sol froze, his body going stiff as his blush deepened to an almost crimson hue. He stammered incoherently for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as if to ground himself.  

“Well, this is already adorable,” Hyugo said, his calm voice laced with amusement as he walked up. “Thanks for officially making me the third wheel tonight.”  

You laughed, clutching the roses to your chest as you turned to Hyugo. “Don’t be so dramatic. Here, I have something for you.”  

Reaching into the small gift bag in your hand, you pulled out a silver katana necklace. Hyugo’s brows lifted as he took it, his fingers brushing the delicate chain.  

“Wow,” he said, holding it up to catch the light. “This is... really nice. Thanks!”  

“Only the best for you,” you teased, grinning as he slipped it on. The chain glinted under the lights, and he adjusted it with a satisfied nod.  

“Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” he said, striking a mock-serious pose.  

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “It does. But let’s not let it go to your head, okay?”  

As the three of you began walking into the park, the weight of the earlier phone call began to ease. The twinkling lights, the crisp air, and the warmth of your friends’ presence all blended into a moment you wouldn’t forget.  

The world around you transformed into a glowing wonderland of twinkling lights. Strings of bulbs wound through the trees like cascading stars, and lanterns in festive shapes lined the paths. The air was filled with the sounds of cheerful laughter, holiday music, and the occasional jingling bell from a passing sleigh ride.  

Hyugo walked ahead, his easy stride and relaxed demeanor making him seem like he belonged in this magical setting. Occasionally, he pointed out displays, his commentary a mix of genuine appreciation and sarcastic humor.  

“See that?” he said, gesturing to a particularly gaudy reindeer display. “That’s exactly what my family’s yard looks like. Overachieving neighbors are a real thing.”  

You laughed, falling into step with Sol, who had remained quieter than usual. He walked beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets now that the bouquet was safely cradled in your arms. His reddish-orange eyes flitted between the lights and you, his expression thoughtful.  

“You okay back there, Sol?” Hyugo called over his shoulder, smirking. “You’re way too quiet. I’m starting to think the roses did all the talking for you.”  

Sol’s cheeks flushed again, but he managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... enjoying the view.” Hyugo snorted. “Yeah, sure you are.”  

You glanced up at Sol, catching the way his gaze lingered on you before darting away. Your heart skipped slightly, and you decided to give him a reprieve from Hyugo’s teasing. “The lights are beautiful,” you said softly, gesturing toward the canopy of stars above the path.  

Sol nodded, his voice equally quiet. “Yeah, they are.”  

The three of you continued along the winding path, pausing occasionally to take in the more elaborate displays—a massive tree covered in golden lights, an archway adorned with glittering ornaments, and a whimsical snowman family that had children running circles around it.  

Hyugo excused himself after spotting a nearby food stall. “I’m getting hot cocoa. Anyone want some?”  

You shook your head, and Sol muttered a soft, “No, thanks.”  

“Suit yourselves. I’ll be back in a bit,” Hyugo said with a casual wave, leaving you and Sol alone under the shimmering lights.  

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with something unspoken. Sol glanced at you, his hands fidgeting slightly in his pockets.  

“You look really nice tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice shy but earnest.  

You turned to him, surprised. “Thank you. You do, too.”  

He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wasn’t sure how far to let it go. “I mean it,” he added, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. “You always look nice, but tonight... I don’t know. You’re so pretty.”  

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice softer this time.  

The lights overhead cast a soft glow on both of you, the world feeling smaller and quieter. Your thoughts began to wander, and a faint ache tugged at your chest.  

You’d spent so many Christmases surrounded by family, their familiar warmth and chaos filling every corner of your childhood home. This year was different. You’d made a life for yourself in the city and built relationships and traditions with your friends, but the distance from your family suddenly felt heavier than ever.  

Sol noticed the shift in your expression immediately. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”  

You blinked quickly, realizing tears had started to well in your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, wiping at them with a quick smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking about home.”  

His concern deepened, and for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Finally, he reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to miss them,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide it.”  

The warmth in his voice unraveled something inside you, and you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, Sol,” you murmured.  

A small smile returned to his face, and he pulled his hand back, letting the moment settle. After a few moments, you reached into your bag, a spark of excitement cutting through the heaviness in your chest. “Actually, I have something for you,” you said, pulling out a small box.  

Sol blinked in surprise, watching as you handed it to him. “What’s this?”  

“Open it,” you said with a grin.  

He carefully lifted the lid to reveal a miniature horse keychain, painted green and black to match his colors. Sol’s eyes widened, and a small, genuine smile spread across his face.  

“For me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.  

You nodded. “And this one’s for me,” you added, pulling out a matching keychain—a small cat painted in your favorite colors. “Now we’ve got matching keychains. To think of each other, you know.”  

Sol stared at the tiny horse in his hands, his fingers brushing the smooth surface. “I love it,” he said finally, his voice quiet but full of emotion. “Thank you.”  

Before you could respond, Sol reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly wrapped box. “I, uh... have something for you too,” he said, handing it over.  

You unwrapped it carefully, and your breath caught as the lid lifted to reveal the music box you’d been dreaming about for months.  

Tears sprang to your eyes again, but this time they were filled with pure joy. You couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. “Sol… how did you…?”

He stood there, his hands twitching nervously at his sides, the usual confidence he carried nowhere to be found. He took a tentative step closer, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. “I remembered you talking about it once,” he said, his voice faltering, tinged with uncertainty. “I just thought you should have it.”

His words, the meaning behind them, hit you all at once. He was so thoughtful, so careful. But it was his panicked expression that really caught you off guard. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to comfort you or retreat, his reddish orange eyes wide with worry, silently questioning if he had done too much. “I—was this too much? I just thought you’d—”

You couldn’t bear to see him like that, unsure and vulnerable, so you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Slowly, you rose up onto your toes, your hands wrapping around his broad shoulders, grounding yourself in his presence.

Before he could finish his thought, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, letting your emotions guide you. His breath hitched, and for a long moment, everything seemed to pause. The twinkling lights that decorated the trees, the distant laughter of other parkgoers, even the crisp winter air—all of it faded away, leaving only the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that somehow synced with yours.

Sol froze at first, his lips still under yours, as if his mind hadn’t caught up with what was happening. But slowly, you felt him relax into the kiss. His hands, unsure at first, settled lightly on your arms, and then, as if he was grounding himself in the moment, they tightened just slightly, pulling you in closer.

His touch was little rough, but you could feel the depth of his feelings in the way his fingers brushed against your skin—like he was afraid to let go, as if the moment might slip away if he did.

When you finally pulled back, the air around you felt charged, alive with the emotion you both had been holding back. Sol stood there, his wide eyes locked on you, his cheeks flushed so deeply that even the tips of his ears had turned a deep shade of red. His chest rose and fell quickly, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“I… uh…” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, as if words had momentarily escaped him.

A soft laugh escaped you, breaking the intensity of the moment. You wiped away the lingering tears from your cheeks, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you, Sol,” you said, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling in your chest. “For everything. For the music box, for being here… for being you.”

Sol’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to respond, but instead, all he managed was a shy, lopsided smile. The kind that made your heart flutter, as if his very soul was laid bare in that simple gesture.

You smiled back, your cheeks still flushed with warmth despite the winter chill, and there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made everything feel right, in a way you never expected.

“And for the record,” you added softly, your tone more serious now, “I care about you. So much.”

Sol’s smile deepened, and his eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of disbelief and quiet happiness. His voice, when it came, was so soft, so full of emotion, it felt like a secret meant just for you.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch warm and tender. “You’re the best muse I’ll ever have.”

His words hung in the air between you, and it felt like time itself had slowed down, each second stretching into eternity as you stood there, lost in the quiet connection you shared.

The world, the winter, the chaos of everything else—it all melted away in that one moment, leaving only the feeling of his hands, his heart, and the soft glow of your shared affection.

Before either of you could say more, Hyugo’s suddenly voice cut through the tender moment, laced with amusement.  

“Well, I feel like I should leave you two lovebirds alone, but... I also don’t want to walk home alone, so…”  

The interruption made you laugh, the sound light and genuine as the heaviness in your chest fully lifted. Sol’s blush only deepened, and he looked down, scratching the back of his neck in his usual awkward fashion.  

Your hand found his instinctively, your fingers lacing together as you turned to face Hyugo. “You’re hopeless,” you called teasingly.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyugo said with a mock sigh. “Glad you’ve finally figured that out.”  

As the three of you continued along the path, Sol’s grip on your hand remained firm, his thumb brushing lightly against yours as though to reassure himself this wasn’t a dream. The lights above reflected in his eyes, making them shine like rubies against the backdrop of the winter evening.  

After a few moments of quiet, Sol glanced at you, his gaze steady but laced with a familiar shyness. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning.  

You looked up at him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course. Where else would I be?”  

He hesitated for just a second, and then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, “…And I’m glad I didn’t have to shed any blood to win you over.”  

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in mock disbelief before bursting into laughter. “What a charmer,” you said, shaking your head.  

Sol chuckled softly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “What can I say? …I aim to impress you alone.”  

The teasing gave way to a comfortable silence as the two of you continued walking, your hands still intertwined. The world around you felt warmer, and brighter, like the holiday lights above had found a way to settle into your chest and glow from the inside out.  

For the first time that night, you felt completely at peace, the bittersweet ache of the season replaced by something sweeter: the quiet, steadfast warmth of someone who cared for you deeply.  

You two reached Hyugo, who was waiting by another set of light displays, waving his hand over to call you and Sol to have a closer look.

You couldn’t help but think that this chilly winter night had turned into something magical.  

The soft hum of your phone was the only sound in the stillness of your room, the faint light casting long shadows across the walls as you lay there, scrolling through the pictures from the night of Christmas Eve.

Each image flickered before your eyes like a fragment of time—memories that felt both distant and vivid, frozen in the glow of your screen.

The liveliness of Crowe and his friends, the way their energy seemed to fill the room and make the night brighter. Or the warmth of the park, the laughter of Hyugo and Sol, their voices mingling with the cold December air. 

You felt an unexpected peace settle deep in your chest, a quiet kind of comfort.

College may have been over, for now, but something else had started to take root—connections that would stretch far beyond the walls of classrooms and lectures. Friendships that felt solid, steady, like something that might stand the test of time.

Just as you set the phone aside, your eyes began to flutter shut, your body sinking into the softness of the bed, drifting completely off to sleep.

Afterward, the soft sound at the window—a quiet rustle of fabric, the faintest click of the latch being undone. Then, a shadow moved across the room, sleek and fluid, dressed entirely in black. The figure moved with practiced ease, slipping silently through your window as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sol.

His silhouette was barely visible against the darkness, but you could feel the presence of his mischievous grin even before he stepped into the soft pool of light in your room.

He was quick, and efficient as if he had done this a hundred times before, and yet there was something undeniably thoughtful in the way he moved—careful not to disturb anything, as if he didn’t want to interrupt the calm of the night.

He stood there for a moment, just watching your sleeping figure, his eyes heart-shaped, glinting with quiet amusement.

You could feel something warm in his gaze. Then, he crossed the room, slow enough not to startle you, and crouched down at the edge of your bed. His black clothing blended into the shadows, the outline of his lean figure and the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You were deep in sleep, the world around you a blur of comforting darkness. And yet, in that dreamlike space, you could feel his presence, like a whisper threading through the silence. 

"You made it through the year," his voice murmured, a soft, velvety tone that carried a weight of something unspoken—something meaningful. His words were like a gentle caress, and though you could barely register them in your dream state, they stirred something inside you, something warm, something that made you feel understood. 

A movement—delicate, almost reverent—pulled you from the haze of sleep. His hand, steady and sure, reached out to you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was feather-light, as though he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment.

You could feel the warmth of his fingertips lingering on your skin, a soft, lingering touch that made you feel protected, and cared for, even in your slumber.

"Wishing you the best in the new year," he whispered, his voice barely audible but thick with intent. 

You didn’t stir, caught in the embrace of sleep, but somehow, his words echoed through your mind like a distant lullaby. His hand dropped, and then there was a shift, the movement of him leaning forward, his presence closer now, filling the space between you. 

His lips brushed against your lip, the kiss so gentle it felt like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. It was brief, fleeting, but tender—an unspoken promise, woven into the light touch, something that lingered on your skin even after he pulled away.

His warmth stayed with you for a heartbeat, then another, the feeling of him still hanging in the air like a quiet echo.

For a moment, everything was still. His expression remained unreadable, as it often did, but there was something else there—something deeper, more sincere than you were used to seeing. He didn’t need to say more; his presence was enough. 

"Happy New Year, Pumpkin~" he said, his voice soft but carrying a quiet smile, one that tugged at the corners of his lips as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he was gone—leaving behind only the lingering warmth of his touch and the faintest trace of his words, woven into the fabric of your dreams.

Still, a smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the promise of the new year—of fresh starts and endless possibilities.

Whatever moments the future held, you knew they'd be all the more meaningful depending on who you chose to share them with.

[sexlapis]

꩜ mine all mine

❀ : toji x female! reader

. synopsis : toji sees the reader’s rare soft side.

꩜ cw : s4w, short fic grumpy! reader, toji & reader are married, toji & reader have a daughter, singing, lullabies

.. wc : 593

-> a/n : i think this is kinda shit & cringe but we go on 🥁. mitski singing in a genius interview inspired this :)

masterlists

*

toji has always known that you were not exactly…a ray of sunshine. sure, he isn’t either, but you are something else. you were not at all mean or unkind in any way but you are crazy, grumpy, passionate…a ball of fire some would say.

a resting bitch face, hot-tempered, unapologetic, loud…you weren’t exactly who people think of when asked to name a gentle, soft woman.

with the continuation of your relationship with toji, you mellowed out. after all, to be loved is to be changed. but you still had your moments (everyday) and you were still a little grumpy, passionate, crazy, rageful person. but toji knows how to handle you. and he knows you to be a loving person.

even with your pregnancy and birth of your daughter, you still kept your personality, not letting yourself lose your sense of identity in the trials and tribulations of motherhood.

toji loves his daughter, mina, the new addition to your small family and he’s glad to be at home, caring for the both of you for six months. he’s convinced this is what he wants to spend the rest of his life doing. living with his two favourite girls and making them happy.

but one thing he has noticed since mina had been brought home, is that you always insisted on putting her to sleep, without fail. you would also insist on putting her back to sleep if she woke up crying (much to toji’s disapproval). and somehow, you have her asleep in minutes.

he knows it is normal for mothers to want to be around their child, but rarely would he put mina to sleep. you would ask (demand) him to let you hold little baby mina and tell him he could go back to sleep, which he does after ten minutes of persuasion on your end.

toji knows you’re not telling him something, though he does not think that it's a deep, dark secret.

so one night, after you and toji go to calm a fussing mina and you telling (ordering) him to leave, he stands outside with his ear pressed to the door, listening in.

what he hears surprises him greatly.

you were singing.

grumpy, angry, hot-headed you was singing.

your sweet, soft voice billows throughout the room.

‘cause my love is mine, all mine

i love, my, my, my

nothing in the world belongs to me

but my love, mine, all mine, all mine…

toji hears mina’s crying quieten, hears he little babbles and giggles, and then silence. now toji knows how you get little mina to sleep. you beautiful voice soothes her, lulling her into a deep sleep.

despite what others may think about how ‘unsuitable’ your personality was, you were a good mother, a kind and loving soul, perfectly compatible with your daughter.

toji quickly and quietly returns to your shared room, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. he didn’t want you to know he overheard your sweet melody. you were like a cat, if he startled you after that intimate moment, you would most definitely get angry and embarrassed and probably never do it again.

you walk into the room, satisfied yet tired. it was 3am and you just wanted to sleep.

toji opens the covers for you to climb into and you curl up in his big frame, laying your head between his chest. he holds you close, kissing your forehead to say goodnight. you’re snoring within two minutes and he admires your stupid drooling face, absentmindedly stroking your temple.

toji will keep this newfound secret to himself.

[featheredclover]

Fanaa

02

01-------03

The gazebo provided her with the much needed shade in the midst of summer. But she could hardly relax under the expectant gazes of Buaji and Manorama aunty.

Payal was far more subdued, holding a neutral front. The only help against two persistent women. 

“Khushi bitiya, Arnav is a wonderful man. He is…what do people say? Yes! That he is a man of substance. You know, the kind of principles nowhere to be found these days-“

“Why didn’t he marry then?” Khushi arched her brow.

“What?” Manorama was stumped, “Well, nobody dared to question him. He was twenty six when he lost Ratna to cancer. Poor thing, it hit him hard. And after that, it just didn’t cross any of our minds. But mind you, he’s a well sought after man. Women have never been able to resist him! Khushi, I won’t lie to you, he is not a charming man. Neither does he talk sweet. But he’s a man who has a quality-“

“I just don’t understand why he must marry me! I mean just look at our ages! What would we even have in common?” Khushi scoffed.

“You are both in the field of media!” Buaji piped in.

“I have a degree in journalism ,buaji. I am going to begin from the ground level. He has been living on the peak since ages! What an awful match would that be”

“Khushi”, Payal warned.

“Let it be Payal”, Manorama sighed.

“Do you think we conjured the idea of you two out of thin air? Absolutely not! It was him who suggested it!”

She felt her stomach erupt in an uncomfortable sensation, her grip tightened on the arm of the wicker chair. 

The shock on her face made buaji squirm.

“Why don’t you meet him? Ask him all these questions yourself. And then reject him, if you find him an unsuitable partner for you. As simple as that.”

She hesitated, her mind was confused between rage and fascination.

“He’s a busy man..”, her voice trailed lazily.

“Aah! No problem! I’ll set it up!”

All was right again in Manorama Malik’s world.

———

‘Bubbles’, that was the restaurant she drove to in her fufaji’s old but sturdy car.

A prominent restaurant in the upscale neighbourhood was certainly what Khushi had been expecting of Mr. Raizada. Even with such a cute name, the restaurant screamed elegance. 

The valet was polite enough with her Maruti Esteem even though it was surrounded by Bentleys. She was beyond grateful to spot the man of the evening himself, walking over to her, as she handed over her keys to the valet.

“Miss Gupta”

His voice. God, his voice.

Is it a rich people thing, she wondered. It felt like his vocal cords were crafted out of the finest silk ,dipped in a potion of perfect masculinity. She needed to keep her cool during this dinner. But Mr Raizada, was not being fair at all. By just being himself, he was at an advantage.

“I am glad you came. Shall we?”

And that’s how he guided Khushi to an exclusive corner of this already exclusive place. His arm hovered around her, guiding her past tables and waiters, but never actually touching her. He was a gentleman, she knew. But it really didn’t help the anticipation soaked evening.

——

Seated, and having ordered some sushi and another Japanese dish recommended by him, she braced herself to fire all uncomfortable queries at him.

“I know your mind is running overtime”, he smiled softly, “Mami told me how you had tons of doubt about the prospect of us. I don’t want to leave anything unsaid between us”.

He paused. Only for a moment. Only to hold her eyes captive under his gaze.

“Truth be told, I don’t want to wait. And I hope that after I answer your questions, you won’t want to as well”

She gaped at him like an idiot for a moment, before gathering her senses

“Well…I think I’ll just…Why do you want to marry?”

“Well, why not?”

Khushi could do nothing but stare. He sat there, all calm and strong. But there was something. Something in the eyes which gave away the intensity of the man.

“I saw Akash getting married”, he continues when she stays silent, “Felt like I was missing out on something”

She narrows her eyes, “You don’t seem like someone who gets married because they feel…envy”

“I am human”, he says simply.

“Why me? We are so apart in age. It doesn’t make any sense…”, she bit her lip.

It was working. There was a creeping curiosity in her to know more about this man, his motives. But what it disguised was an embarrassing lust she felt for this man.

It was there in the way, he adjusted his cufflinks, before wielding the chopsticks. It was there in the way his fingers, attractive in the most masculine way, settled around his glass of whiskey. But most of all it was there in his air of self assurance. This was a man who could rival the K2! And damn her luck to be weak in front of such a fine specimen!

“Khushi”

God damnit! There’s that tone again.

“It’s the only obstacle that came into my mind regarding us. I can’t promise that it won’t be a problem between us. But it seems like an issue we can overcome, don’t you think?”

She knew that on paper these words probably would have seemed incomplete. But the way he said it, she knew Mr Raizada was least bothered by their age difference. His eyes held thousands of promises, some even deluding her into believing she was seeing her desires mirror in his eyes.

———

A few more questions, and two glasses of chilled lemonade later, Khushi found herself walking up to the entrance, where the valet waited with her car. 

Before she could take the final few steps to reach her leather seat, Mr Raizada stopped her.

“I don’t think you addressed the elephant in the room, Miss Gupta”

Puzzled, Khushi felt her face express her confusion.

“You didn’t share your plans after graduation.”

“Well…I plan to work.”

“You won’t work in AR”

The matter of factly tone of his voice offended her more than she could have anticipated.

“Of course! I have applied in several companies, even heard back from-“

“I meant you’ll be working in Rhapsody”, he cut in smoothly.

“Rhapsody?”

“AR’s new venture. It aims to bring a new perspective on journalism. I am sure you would understand Miss Gupta, sensationalism sells. My main channel could never do that. It goes against our brand value. So we have created this magazine. A fortnightly treat for everything scandalous.”

“And you want me to work there?”

“No. I want you to lead it”, he smirked.

Shock would have been an understatement to describe the emotions running beneath her skin.

He led her, in that very distinct way of his, to her car.

“But after all, it would all depend”

She looked up at him,dazed beyond measure.

“On whether you say yes”

And then he was gone. Like a dream you chase fruitlessly in the throes of ecstasy.

————

03>>>

[popponn]

a fool in love. [isagi yoichi x f!reader]

notes: no listen downbad!yoichi is kind of a walking disaster because this is the kind of guy that goes 'oh making you happy makes me happy' and he is mister egoist who goes a bit unhinged whenever he wants something do you get it. it's kind of doomed in a very cute way. (aka this is a fit of madness pt three. the only thing im willing to examine with seriousness here are isagi yoichi's deep blue eyes.)

You knew it wasn’t as if it was a bad thing. But, in a way, as happy as Yoichi makes you—you kind of wish he doesn’t turn off half of his brain when it came to you.

So far, the most often times he could do that was when soccer came up. And most of them ended up with longing stare and him turning his head back one last time as if saying 'sorry'. One time, you actually ended up throwing a snot soaked tissue because he felt bad leaving for practice when you were bedridden with a flu. It was adorable, but honestly a bit pathetic, in a cute way.

Though, those moments are indeed cute when you compared them to the others.

“I’m craving something salty and buttery,” you said at 2.34 am and you had to physically restrain him from cooking for you. Doing that to an athlete on his prime while being half asleep taught your backbone that it was a terrible idea. It made cracking noises for a week straight.

“Oh, that shirt is cute,” you once praised the white t-shirt he wore while lounging around with his friends in the living room. Suddenly, it was his favorite shirt. Last month, thankfully, that old, greying thing was replaced by another t-shirt you bought him before it had seven holes in them.

“God, I fucking hate him,” you would mindlessly comment about someone and Yoichi’s mouth went on a field trip. This happened around way too much already. One time happened when you said this half-jokingly after his match and high adrenaline Yoichi thinking someone genuinely did something to you was a sight. Hot, but unsuited for public consumption.

At this point, you really didn’t want to know what the line was for him outside of his soccer. It also didn’t help that it seems like most of his friends—especially Bachira—are a bunch of shit stirrers who supports him.

“You know, it’s sweet and stuffs,” you sighed, one day, deciding that being honest is the best way to go. “But, I really wonder, why you are like that sometimes?”

Yoichi, who walked beside you whilst pushing the shopping basket in one hand, smiled bashfully. “Uh, well—I got… carried away sometimes?”

“Definitely,” you sent him an unamused glance whilst showing him the shopping list written in his phone. “It’s not that I hate every time you do it. I just want to know why.”

Yoichi laughed nervously at that, averting his eyes away from you as he grabbed a pack of butter from his right. It took him sometime to answer, and as he did so Yoichi’s expression turned nostalgic and fond, “Remember when you said that you wouldn’t want me to lose my focus on soccer even if we are together?”

“Ah.” You did remember it. It was a long conversation that was both necessary and heavy back then. At this moment, though, it became just another chapter in your life with Yoichi.

“Well, I kind of swear to myself after that—” Yoichi stopped walking and turned towards you, looking at you through his blue eyes with many promises and softness. It took everything in you to not hide as he continued, “—that I will make you the happiest person on earth even with everything going on. So, yeah?”

And suddenly, you found yourself very lucky. “Oh.”

“And also, uh, I like how it feels when I spoil you and stuffs…? ” Yoichi murmured almost inaudibly, sounding unsure and embarrassed, before quickly laughing it off in the boyish manner you had came to known since long ago. A hand warped itself around yours and Yoichi smiled, a hint of red still coloring his cheeks, “So, uh. You know.”

Like a second nature, you intertwined your fingers along with him and gave him a smile just as shy and gentle in return, ”…seriously? You do it just because it makes you happy? Now, I’m sad.”

“And now you are just teasing me,” Yoichi replied easily. Then, he leaned his head, peering into his phone in your hand, “What else do we have to buy?”

“Hmm…” you hummed, eyes not turning away from him. “I think we got it all.”

[bibliophilicstranger]

Harry/Hermione are more like James/Lily. Not Ron/Hermione or Ginny/Harry(the two ships that everyone wants to convince are like them)

I agree and disagree. I agree that neither Hinny nor Romione resemble Jily, however I also don't think Harry and Hermione are Jily reborn.

Harry and Ginny are only physically somewhat akin to Lily and James, but personality wise are very different. Ginny is far sportier, though she has a quick temper, and also has a bit of a hero-worship streak that Lily certainly never had for James. Like Lily she's popular, but I don't think she's as academic (her Slug Club admission was practical rather than academically based). She was never a prefect, which displays that her grades and disciplinary record was unsuitable for such a position.

Harry, despite Snape's remarks, is not much like his father. He's good at quidditch but he's not as arrogant, he's terrible with women, and he's a leader by necessity rather than by choice. Harry has James' ability to lead, but unless circumstances require it, he doesn't put himself forward to do so (he often goes along with Ron and Hermione's decisions unless there's a crisis/Voldy-level decision). Harry doesn't start confrontations, he tends to react to provocation and will escalate a fight, but he's not going around pranking Draco or Umbridge. Fight Draco after his mum has been insulted, yes, but that's not out of the blue. He asks for Umbridge to be pranked, but that's a practical matter as part of a larger scheme. Harry has a mischevious side, but it tends to come in the form of sly humor rather than large pranks. I also suspect that if Voldy had died in 81 and Harry had experienced 7 normal years, Harry probably wouldn't have broken the rules much at all, unless it was in defense of a friend. Whereas James seems more to have broken rules as much for the fun of it as anything else (though the Animagus/nights out were for Remus, so that is a point in common).

Hermione has more in common with Lily, certainly. She too is tempestuous but kind-hearted, zealous to the point of blindness as times and utterly loyal to her friends. Her academics are more in line with Lily's, as is her background. Yet Lily is portrayed as having a more charming personality; we never hear of her having the same friendship struggles Hermione had. Lily was popular and well-liked beyond just her teachers. Hermione has a much harder time relating to her peers. She has the brains and the ferocity but not the veneer that makes those socially acceptable. It's not a bad thing (personally I'm a Hermione, not a Lily), but it does make their experience of the world much different.

Ron is not much at all like James beyond a few superficial points: they're both pureblood, they both love quidditch, and they're both from Light families. James is somewhat arrogant, a natural leader, and from a privileged background. Ron is neither arrogant nor a leader, and his financial status is well known. Ron suffers an inferiority complex while James is more likely to believe in his own superiority. James is also naturally intelligent and a good student and Ron... isn't. He's not quite as moronic as a lot of fanfiction portrays, but beyond being good at Wizards chess, we don't see much scholarly aptitude from him. Their attitude toward the Dark Arts and Dark Wizards is similar, but James is more confrontational, whereas Ron tends to be reactive. James would start a fight, Ron reacts to taunting rather than starting it. Frankly I also can't see James ever abandoning his friends the way Ron did.

What we know of James and Lily's relationship is little, but we know that after he grew up a bit and started taking life more seriously that they got together and fell in love. They spent six or so years at odds first, so by the time they got together, Lily had probably accepted James as an equal. We know James was smart, so he could probably keep up with Lily to a degree, even if their interests were different. I do think they were partners, that they worked well together. When Voldemort attacked they didn't bicker over who would fight even if both could, James acted to defend while Lily went for Harry. Honestly we know so little about them canonically that comparison is difficult.

I don't really see Hinny as a relationship of equals. I don't think Ginny ever totally loses the fangirlish/looking up to Harry attitude. Harry never looks at her like she's a partner. Ginny doesn't become a fourth member of Harry's group when they become involved and he detaches from her when planning year 7 rather than work with her. She's more an emotional escape than emotional support. I think Ginny's popularity and presumably larger friend group (quidditch team, journalistic collegues) might wear on Harry over time.

Romione has a few more similarities with Jily, but I don't see the same success in their relationship. Ron and Hermione are friends in a way Jily weren't, but their incessant bickering is a source of conflict. Yet the reason for conflict differs. Lily needed James to grow up; once he stopped hexing people for fun and was a little less arrogant, they were able to build a relationship. Ron seems annoyed with Hermione's very character, and she gets frustrated with his as well. Her love of knowledge and bookishness isn't going to change and those seem to annoy him. I also don't see it as a relationship of equals. In Ron, Hermione is never going to have a partner who can keep up with her mind. She's going to always be assertive and he seems to chafe at that.

I don't think Harry and Hermione are Jily reborn, but they do have the potential to have an equally strong relationship in their own way. Harry and Hermione don't have a conflict-based relationship (he was never antagonistic toward her the way Ron was), but a friendship based one. I do think they would be equals and partners: they have a history of dividing labor between them to share the load well. Harry isn't as smart as Hermione, but he's shown more academic interest than Ron has when not around Ron (and might show more once he no longer has Voldy to worry about). Harry and Hermione might need to discuss minor habits they find annoying in one another and how to handle them, but they don't fight the way Jily or Romione would for the other to change.

I don't think Hinny, Romione, or Harmony are Jily reborn, but I do agree that Hinny and Romione are less like Jily than Harmony is.

[thee-horny-thicky]

Love Song: The Finale

After months of waiting, I present to you, the smutty finale of Love Song. Just in time for Kinktober, too :)

Prev Part: HERE

You leaned closer to him until your faces were just centimeters apart. “Can I kiss you, Gyutaro?”

He didn't waste time giving you a verbal answer. Instead, he leaned forward and crashed his lips against yours. You immediately responded, putting your bottom lip between his and encircling your arms around his neck to keep the two of you glued together. He was mindful of his sharp teeth as he kissed you with fervor, not wanting to hurt you. His control started to slip when you moaned into his mouth, somehow managing to press your body even closer to his. His instincts screamed at him to claim you and truly make you his. His claspers started to protrude from the slit concealed by his pelvic fins, revealing his need to breed.

The longer your lips mashed together, the more his restraint waned. And when you nipped his lower lip, something awoken inside him, giving him no choice but to give in to his primal urges.

Gyutaro pulled away. His instincts were screaming for him to claim you, to take you to his lair and fuck a baby into you. But you were human, and your species did things differently from his. Causal sex was had among sirens, but as a rule, the act carried greater significance than it did with humans. Most of the time, ‘causal’ sex was seen as a test run, a way to weave out those unsuitable to mate with. For humans, causal sex often came with the guarantee that nothing more would come out of it.

“We can’t…. we need to stop,” Gyutaro panted, ruing to such a thing.

Even though he hated saying the words, he needed to give you an out, a chance to realize how serious this was for him. It’d hurt if you didn’t feel the same way, but he’d be able to live with the knowledge that he gave you a choice. If he took you by force, you’d likely be unhappy, and the last thing he wanted was an unhappy mate.

You tilted your head to the side, your brows furrowing. “Why?” 

Damnit, but you looked adorable. And your plump, reddened lips only added to your appeal. Even if he couldn’t smell your arousal, your blown-out pupils and flushed skin told him all he needed to know. Maybe it was just for a quick fuck or to fulfill a strange fantasy you harbored, but you wanted him too. Perhaps not as much as he did, but some degree of lust was there. And maybe, just maybe, he could live with that. Even if you two didn’t fully mate, he’d at least be able to have you once.

No, scratch that, he’d already know one time wouldn’t be enough.

“Because I’ll breed you otherwise,” Gyutaro said honestly.

Often, pups were conceived during the mating ritual, as it was a time when both parties gave in to their primal instincts. And across species, the need to breed was a base desire.

You blinked, growing obviously flustered. Then, to his surprise, you said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” he parroted, gawking at you.

Breeding was daunting for the unmated of his kind, even though they knew the importance of it. So for you, a human, to be so casual about it blew his mind.

“Yes, okay. I’m assuming it’s a part of the mating ritual thing you told me about?”

Your casualness left Gyutaro speechless, so all he could do was nod.

“So….can we continue?”

“No,” he pushed out, though the word pained him. “I don’t think you realize the gravity of your words.”

You cocked your head to the side. “You said it’s like marriage.”

“It’s more complex than that!” he snapped, trying to get you to see exactly what you’re agreeing to. “Our souls will become one, and we’ll never be able to separate. Do you understand that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, the sudden onslaught of your anger shocking him. “I know you think I’m dumb, and I probably don’t fully understand what the mating ritual entails, but I don’t mind being with you forever! No matter how fucked it started, this is the most genuine relationship I ever had, and I don’t want to lose that. This island, you, have made me feel contentment I’ve never felt before, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that. Do you understand that?”

Your declaration stole his ability to speak, and his heart pounded as it never had before. Butterflies formed in his stomach, and the bastards refused to keep still. He wished that he could verbalize his feelings as you just had, that he could make an equally as grand speech of the affection he felt for you. Instead, all he could do was stare at you with a goofy grin, and mutter, “I understand.”

Luckily, that was more than enough for you.

******

Weeks later, the day Gyutaro had been waiting for rolled around. After the passionate kiss on the beach, he decided that things needed to slow down so he could properly court you, the process involving gifts, serenades, and chitchats about nothing in particular. The process brought you two even closer together, and it never failed to make his heart flutter when he saw you wear one of his gifts. He quickly learned that you preferred shiny rocks and pretty shells as opposed to dead sea creatures, and nearly burst with joy when he learned that you’d used them to make some necklaces and bracelets.

Tonight, lying on a makeshift bed in a grotto hidden away from the outside world, you dawned your homemade bracelets on each arm but kept your neck noticeably bare. He knew the reason behind your choice, and it only made him more eager.

“Say it once more,” he ordered, wanting to ensure you had the incantation memorized.

It was in his language, one difficult for humans to learn. He corrected you every time you mispronounced a word, but that didn’t take away his worry that when it came time to finalize your relationship, it’d be too difficult for you to say.

You rolled your eyes, already nude and waiting for him, your clothes a forgotten pile on the beach. “Gyutaro, you made me say it a thousand times already! If I don’t have it memorized now, I never will.”

He huffed out a breath and swam closer, his hands now able to touch the shore. And more importantly, you. You laying in the swallows, your hair dampened and the waves lapping at your body. You gazed at him through lidded eyes, the look in them betraying your lust. As he drew closer, you parted your legs, allowing him to position himself between them. He sat back and gathered you into his arms, yanking you forward so you could sit in his lap. Your squeal of laughter made him smile.

“Sue me for wanting to make sure everything goes perfectly,” he murmured, using a clawed hand to stroke your wet hair, your bare chests pressed together.

You licked your lips and wrapped your arms around his neck. “It will. And if we don’t get it right the first time, we’ll try again.”

Before he could reply, you were crushing your lips against his. Gyutaro responded just as eagerly, though he paid close attention to his teeth in proximity to your lips. They were sharp, and if he wasn’t careful, they could nick you. He rammed his tongue into your mouth at the first opportunity, stroking his lengthier pink appendage against yours.

You moaned into his mouth, and he wrapped an arm around your lower back to keep you trapped against him. The kiss was sloppy and passionate, the result of longing and a burning desire for one another.

“Need you,” you mumbled against his mouth. Your words made him moan, and his claspers began to emerge from behind his pelvic fins. You smiled as you felt them. “You need me too, huh?”

“Obviously,” he said, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck before biting down. You whimpered, your hands flying to his hair as he nibbled and sucked at the delicate flesh. He bit down gently, but it was still enough to draw blood. Immediately, he licked up the red nectar, groaning in pleasure as more of your plasma flooded his mouth. Blood was never sweet, but yours was like candy to him, even with the metallic taste ever-present.

Gyutaro has always favored human blood over any other creature. It was savory in a unique way, and no other food or creature tasted quite like it. And yours was something else entirely, something he felt himself already growing addicted to.

It took some effort, but he withdrew his head from your neck when he was certain you would have his mark. “Delicious,” he murmured, having grown even more eager to commence the mating ritual.

A bruise in the shape of his teeth was already forming on your neck, and he couldn’t hold back his grin. He expected you to make a remark about it, but you were silent. He realized your gaze was glued to his lap, and that’s when it hit him.

Humans didn’t have two penises. He did.

“Do I need to take them both?” you asked, your tone filled with curiosity instead of the fear he expected.

If nothing else, your demeanor was a good sign.

“I’m sure one would do,” he said to reassure you.

He’d love nothing more than to split you on both his cocks, pumping you full of his semen until it was a guarantee you’d bear his pups. The thought alone nearly sent him into a frenzy, but he knew he had to restrain himself. Humans were more delicate than his species, and using both of his claspers may hurt you.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He sighed. “Typically, both are used doing mating, but sirens usually only mate with other sirens. But—”

“Okay,” you said, grabbing the upper cock and running your thumb along the slit, making him inhale sharply. “I’ll take them both.”

He shuddered, before groaning as you started to rub his shaft.  

“B-breeding,” he pushed out, feeling the need to remind you of the primary purpose of intercourse.

Even when it was for pleasure, the need to breed was every present during intimate moments.

 “Oh?” you hummed, reaching under your body to grab his other cock. “So, I need to take them both in my pussy?”

Your lewd, blasé words pulled another groan from him, his opposition to the idea starting to fade. But still….

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he panted as you fondled him.

You rested your forehead against his, somehow flexible enough to continue to stroke his shafts. “I want to remember our first time together as long as possible.” you purred as precum started to bead from his tips. “I wanna feel you for days, Gyutaro.” You brought your mouth to his ear. “I want my cunt to be molded to take you in every way possible.”

 Those words snapped the last of his restraint. He forced your hands to halt, then grabbed your hips and positioned the tip of his upper cock at your entrance. He kept ahold of you, ensuring you took him halfway before grabbing his other cock and guiding it to the same hole. You widened your stance to give him easier access, planting your feet on either side of him.

You were so wet, and he was leaking so much pre-cum that additional lubrication wasn’t needed to slide it in. You mewled as the second tip prodded at your already-filled hole before a scream was torn from you when he slammed you down on his cocks, making you take both to the hilt.

******

You’d never felt so full. All thoughts had left your head, and your eyes were rolled back. Gyutaro was larger than most human men you’d been with, making the initial stretch painful. For a moment, you worried you’d tear. But damnit, mama—flawed as she was—didn’t raise no quitter. So, you kept silent, allowing him to maneuver you onto both cocks.

And you’re so glad you did.

Both of your breaths are coming out in ragged pants, and moan after moan is pulling torn from you as Gyutaro thrusts into your pussy. Drool is trickling from your mouth, every pleasure point located in your cunt being stimulated. Every move his him hitting that spongy spot deep inside you and brushing against your cervix, creating pleasure you’d never felt before. You didn’t want the sensation to ever end. To ensure neither dick would slip out, you wrapped your legs around his back. Gyutaro responded by enveloping your lower back with his muscular arms, guaranteeing the two of you would stay locked together for as long as possible.

“You’re taking it so well,” he praised as he brought a hand to your breasts, thumbing at your hardened nipples.

You whimpered in response, finally finding it within yourself to rock against him ever so slightly. He brought a hand down on your ass, the sound of the slap echoing off the walls of the cave.

“Did I tell you to move?” he asked, the hand on your tit faltering.

You shook your head, unable to formulate a single word. The state you were in seemed to give him pride, and when you stilled, he leaned forward and took a breast into his mouth, muffling his moans. Indescribable sounds were pulled from you as he mouthed at your tits while splitting you open on his cocks. He quickly got into a habit of taking a nipple into his mouth, nibbling a delicate bud with care, and giving kitten licks to ease the slight pain. He’d repeat the entire process on the other breast.

“You feel so fucking good,” you crooned, tears of pleasure forming in your eyes as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching.

He gave a moan in response. Your entire body started to shake as tension in your stomach started to unravel. You arched into him, your clit pulsing as you finally came. A scream was pulled from your throat as Gyutaro continued to thrust into you at a relentless pace, fucking you through your high. You felt a flood of liquid gush from you, but the fact that you’d just squirted barely registered as quivered around his cock.

When you started to still, Gyutaro pulled you into a kiss, his thrusts slowing. A content sigh left you, and he took advantage of the opportunity it presented to slip his tongue into your mouth. As your tongues intertwine, his grip on your body becomes tighter. He had a salty flavor, likely the result of swimming through seawater all day, and you could still taste the metallic aftertaste of your blood in his mouth.

You were breathless by the time he finally pulled away, and you couldn’t help but admire how he looked at the moment. His pupils were blown out, making his normally yellow eyes appear black. His lips were stained red, your kiss not having erased all the traces of your blood.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured, feeling like you’d been fucked out of your body.

Your mind had slowed drastically, and right now, all you could focus on was him. Gyutaro had consumed your entire being, and anything that wasn’t him seemed irrelevant.

He smiled, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours. “Shouldn’t that be my line?” He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose before you could respond. “You’re doing so well, sweet thing, but we aren’t done yet. Do you remember what you have to say?”

It took a moment for the words to come to you, but when they did, your stomach fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah.”

He rolled his eyes. “And that’s why I made you recite it so many times.” He craned his neck to the side. “Now bite me. We need to ingest each other’s blood.”

You nodded, then leaned down and complied. You bite down as hard as you can, pulling a moan from him as his blood floods your mouth. A metallic taste was present, but it was saltier than human blood. There was a vaguely fishy taste, a flavor that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it was, it made him taste very palatable, and you imagine there’s some exotic form of sushi out there that has the exact same flavor.

As you lapped up his blood, he returned the favor. Time started to become irrelevant, something oddly intimate about the moment. It would inspire disgust in many, but you’d never felt closer to another living being.

The fact that both his cocks were still buried in you probably played a part in that.

When you started to feel lightheaded, he pulled away. You mimicked him, and he swiped a tongue over your bloody lip.

“You taste like sushi,” you revealed without prompting, giggling when his eyebrows shot up.

“I’m not a fish!” he said in exasperation.

You knew he loathed being compared to sea creatures, and you’d started to associate his kind as their own being instead of a cross between two different species. Still, you didn’t hesitate to point out his fishier qualities, no matter how much it irked him.

At your goofy grin, he sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching up. He ran a hand through your hair, and you nuzzled into his touch.

“You ready?” he asked.

Without even saying it, you knew he spoke of binding vows. You nodded eagerly, shifting in excitement. He released a breathy moan, reminding you that your cunt was still wrapped around him. You’d already grown used to the feeling of him inside you, and you dreaded the emptiness that would be felt when he pulled out.

“Kī zī,” he began, and you immediately repeated the words, talking faster in a bid to keep pace with him.

The first two words of the vows were the simplest, and from what he told you, they roughly translated to, “My love.” You’d memorized the meaning of the entire thing, but at that moment, you were making such an effort to say everything correctly and in pace with Gyutaro that you couldn’t remember what they translated to. But though you couldn’t recall the translation, you could almost feel the bond that was forged as you chanted the words that’d bound you to Gyutaro forever. The look in his eyes at that moment could only be described as utter devotion.

When the two of you said the words, “Kam kèjsut,” or together forever in human, a feral look entered his eyes. He started to thrust into you again. You gasped, your voice starting to quiver as he resumed pounding into you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to ground yourself. You moaned out the rest of the words, and the moment the vows were complete, he slammed his mouth against yours. Your mouths not separated, he guided you onto your back, then grabbed your knees and pinned them to your chest. You whined against him, the new position allowing him to go even deeper.

He pulled away, panting heavily as he stared down at you with wild eyes. “Gonna fuck a baby into you,” he practically growled as he plunged into you, his eyes glued to your bouncing tits. “You want that, sweet thing?”

You cried out, “Yes,” already feeling another climax build. When it hit, it was just as intense as the last.

 It must’ve triggered Gyutaro’s orgasm because seconds later he was moaning atop you as he painted your inner walls white. He came an inhuman amount, and some of his cum started to drip out despite you being plugged up with his cocks. The sight of your cunt leaking with his semen seemed to worsen the frenzy he’d been sent into, and fingers joined the mix in an impossible bid to keep it all inside you. You whimpered as his thumb brushed against your clit, and tears began to form in your eyes as he started moving again.

You were going to be here a while, and by the time he was done, you doubt your pussy would ever be the same. However, you didn’t mind one bit.

Taglist:

@404starlight @sterzin @myladyalpaca @hypmicz @purplepalace12 @glitzkitten8870 @wildfire317s-oc-box @jasperthechaosgremlin

[youllneverfindmona]

“Strictly Business” - Hawks

{Hawks x Fem Reader}

In which, you’re the new hire at his agency!

When you first joined Hawk’s agency you didn’t know what to expect. You truly didn’t even think it was a good idea because— well, you’re a fan of Hawks, as a hero of course not one of them crazy fan girls you just really admired his hero work, but with an opportunity like this, you were set on keeping things strictly business. Being able to see things happen up close and being able to participate in constructing and evaluating missions almost felt like a dream. You were set on being the best that you could be.

There was no dress code, surprisingly, but you decided you couldn’t go wrong with all black. Black fitted jeans, black fitted shirt, and chunky black heels. Your hair is a straight side part with the longer side tucked behind your ear to create a swoop effect. You didn’t want to overdress, but also didn’t want to appear unsuited. You approached the front desk with your folder in hand ready to greet the receptionist. She glanced up before welcoming you with a big smile.

“You must be y/n? Hawks has been expecting youu” She said in an evidently excited tone singing out the last bit of her words as she turned over to press a button.

“Hawks.” He spoke on the other line.

“y/n is here to see youu.” She said still in a bubbly manner.

“That’s great! Send her up!” He said seeming excited on the other line.

“14th floor, 3rd room to the left. Welcome in!” She told you buzzing you in. As you strolled down the hallway of the 14th floor your heart began to race as you approached the third room to the right. You take a moment and place your hand on your chest to try and catch your breath and calm down.

“Uhh you know I can see you right.” You heard Hawks say making you gasp and turn your head in his direction. You laugh nervously as you realize you were so enmeshed in your own head you forgot his room was on the LEFT not the right. He inclines back in his chair laughing as your face turns red from embarrassment but you stroll into his office trying to keep your composure.

“Are we nervous?” He said giving you a witty smile while turning his head to the side.

“I mean yeah it’s just— I never had an opportunity like this and I just want to be—” You ramble but Hawks raises his hand signaling to you that you didn’t need to keep talking.

“You don’t have any reason to be nervous. You’re talented. Seeing your reports from the previous agencies you worked at your work instantly stood out to me. You’re very detail oriented and you pay attention to things most people don’t think matter but it does in fact make a huge difference and that’s exactly why I chose you.” He reassured you.

“I should be nervous.” He says as you catch him studying you but don’t think much of it.

“Now. There’s a few things we need to run down on, I’ll give you a tour of the agency, and show you where your office will be.” He said pushing his fingertips against each other.

As weeks passed at the agency, you quickly learned that Hawks was very strict and critical about the work that was done around there. Yeah, he was goofy from time to time, but you saw a lot more of his strict and serious side rather than the charming side the media mostly gets to see. After all, this all goes into saving lives at the end of the day. You put your all into everything you did often coming in extra and staying later. You didn’t mind it. You didn’t see Hawks often but when you did he’d always praise you for your work which kept you motivated.

You didn’t realize it, but your name was catching buzz around the office. Partially because some of the guys there thought you were hot. Allegedly, Hawks had a talk with them and told them they weren’t allowed to discuss those kinds of things here and that if they were caught trying to approach you with the intent to pursue you there would be negative feedback involved because relationships are strictly prohibited due to the potential they have to interfere with work. You weren’t interested in relationships anyway. You kept your focus on your work and your work only.

But you couldn’t tell because that didn’t stop your male coworkers from approaching. Usually they’d try to make small talk and ease their way into flirting which never worked because quite frankly you just wanted to be left alone to work. You tried to be nice, but it was pestering to deal with. That was until one day Hawks happened to walk near your desk when he caught on to what was going on. He simply walked towards your desk and tapped him on the shoulder while pointing back to his office.

“My office. Now.” He said calmly but also very stern.

“You’re doing great. Keep up the good work.” He says as he taps your desk as he begins to walk away. He actually ended up having to do it two more times. You felt like a burden being such a distraction. You assumed maybe it was because of your clothes so you tried to wear more loose fitted clothing and kinda dimmed your appearance down to see if it would help. Hawks immediately noticed this, but kept it to himself for a few weeks. That was until you received an email telling you to meet him in his office. You were for sure it was about those guys approaching you and whether or not you were entertaining them. You walk up to his office nervously as he’s fixated on his computer for a moment before he looks up to acknowledge you.

“Hello Mr.Takami!” You greet him.

“Hey y/n how you feeling?.” He says returning a smile.

“Great! How about you?” You ask him

“I’m good. I just want to talk to you about a few things you can take a seat.” He says in a very calm tone. As you sit down he uses one of his feathers to close the door. You jump confused.

“Yes?” You say inna shaky voice confused.

“I didn’t mean to scare you it’s just that this conversation is 100% confidential. You’re not in trouble don’t worry I just want you to feel comfortable.” He says smiling hoping to calm your nerves a bit.

“Okay” You say nodding trying to relax.

“Soooo— how do I word this— I don’t want to make this weird” he says looking down thinking to himself.

“I’ve noticedd— a change in your appearance per se. Now granted, there’s no dress code you’re allowed to wear what you want. I was just trying to make sure that change in appearance wasn’t due to you feeling pressured, mental health issues, or even feeling uncomfortable in any way.” He explained. You were silent for a second before touching your left arm with your right hand while looking down.

“I just thought it would be better y’know.” You say nervous.

“Better how?” He asked tilting his head.

“Just less distracting for some of my coworkers…” You say realizing how dumb that sounds out loud.

“Y/n” He says very sternly making you look up at him.

“If there are any changes that need to be made to better the work environment. I will make those changes. You don’t have to change anything about yourself. If someone can’t control themselves they can go. Seriously.” He says looking you dead in the eyes reassuring you.

“Yes Mr.Takami” You tell him beginning to look back down.

“You can call me Keigo it’s okay” He said chuckling.

“Now that that’s out the way, let’s get into the main thing I wanted you to come here for today.” He said making you more nervous before pausing before a few seconds and flashing a smile.

“Would you like to be my assistant?” He says smiling making your eyes widen.

“You’re kidding?” You say smiling.

“I’m as serious as can be” He says.

“Ofc!” You say excitedly as he reaches up to high-five you.

From that point on, you’d spend way more time with Keigo. It was almost overwhelming at first. If you thought you worked a lot at first, you were sadly mistaken. Sometimes you’d be working alongside him from the beginning of the day until the very end. A few days you rarely seen him. During this time you’d often learn even the most minuscule details about him. You know his exact coffee order down to a T. How he likes flying the most during sunrise and sunset. The two of you even had a couple of inside jokes. You’re unsure when it happened, but you did develop a slight crush on him. You thought it was nothing really and that it just came about due to proximity and would run its course. At least that’s what you told yourself but as time passed you found yourself more obsessed with him than his own fans. Besides, you knew your chances with him were nonexistent. His schedule was jam-packed and he didn’t have time for a relationship. You also noticed he probably hooks up with a couple of women here and there, but you turn a blind eye. At times you think you’re going crazy. Hawks is naturally kind of a flirt, but sometimes the jokes would feel as if they were intentional— y’know. You hated having to keep everything professional honestly, but didn’t want to risk anything.

One day you guys had already completed what you needed to for the day and had some time left over. He asked if you wanted to go for drinks and you figured why not since you both were off tomorrow.

The two of you had clicked the whole night. Learning even more about each other. One drink turned to two, two to three, and suddenly you were so caught up in the conversation you started to lose count. The two of you got very drunk and he decided to call a limo to take you guys home. It had a privacy divider that kept out most sound so you didn’t really worry about trying to tone it down with your convo.

Once the two of you got in, Keigo sat directly next to you as your talks continued. You began to notice him staring at you a lot more when you were talking, often scanning your body, closing any distance between the two of you that he could, and even being more overtly flirty. Calling you baby bird, making smooth comments on how good you looked, brushing his hand on your thigh.

You soon started to match him. Letting yourself stare at him more than you’d allow yourself any other time and ensure the two of you were as close as possible. At this point there was undeniable chemistry. He said something to make the two of you laugh and you put your hand on his chest before you notice his heart is pounding making you sit up and look at him.

“Are we nervous?” You say smiling at him hoping he’d recall where your comment came from. He froze for a moment. His wings fluttered and his face was turning red.

“It’s just—” you cut him off as his face turned even more red.

“I should be nervous.” You whisper leaning into him getting close to his lips. He quickly closes the gap between the two of you by pressing his lips against yours before letting out a deep exhale as the two of you began to make out. He placed one hand on your waist while sliding the other one up your thigh and grabbing your ass as you reached up to grab his hair. After a few seconds you pull away looking him dead in the eyes and seeing nothing put pure desperation as he tried to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry did I— Did you— want?” He says quickly getting anxious at the fact that he didn’t consider whether or not he had just violated you as you looked up at him with pure shock.

“I want more.” You say leaning back into him as the two of you began to make out again.

“I tried so hard to contain myself because you were such a good worker.” He says pulling apart and cupping your face as you began to lean back on the seats so that he would be on top of you.

“But fuck you’re so hot” He says hovering over your body as the two of you feel the limo stop. He quickly peeked outside to see y’all were at his house.

“Come in my place” He says as the both of you began to lift up and exit the limo. Once you got in Keigo couldn’t even finish locking the door before you were all over him again, but by then the liquor had set in a bit and he started to realize his actions so far would have consequences.

You tried to kiss him but noticed him very still as he sat there at looked you in the eyes leaning upon the door looking at you with puppy eyes.

“Did I do something wrong—” You ask softening your voice. He exhales deeply before covering his face with his hand.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay—” He says grabbing your hand and guiding you to his bedroom. He kept you in front of him. Due to the fact that you both were still drunk you and him were stumbling upstairs but he was still able to make sure you made it up there.

“Huh?— well are we gon—” You say before he quickly interrupted you making you silent.

“No” He says sternly. Your heart drops before suddenly whining like a brat.

“Why nott” You whine.

“You’re drunk” He says.

“And so are you! What was that whole thing we just did about then?” You say louder than you anticipated making him stop right at his room door and turn around to look at you.

“I messed up okay. Your judgement is clouded right now and I feel like I took advantage of you.” He says lowly looking at you sadly.

“But— I want it. I always did. I want you Keigo.” You said lowly in a bratty tone making his eyes widen as he let out the faintest gasp waking up to you and hovering over you.

“I want you too y/n. If that’s really how you feel we can wait. I don’t want to hurt you.” He told you before kissing you on your forehead as he cupped your face. Truth is, he felt no better than the guys he tried prying off you at work. Especially because the main reason he was so strict was also because it made him extremely jealous to see any other man perusing you knowing he couldn’t no matter how bad he wanted to. You exhaled deeply as he guided you to the room, and gave you one of his shirts to change into once he left.

“You need anything else?” He asks as he headed towards the door.

“Lay with me” You say pouting sitting on the edge of the bed with his shirt in your hands. He agreed, but only if you two slept on opposite sides and with different blankets because he didn’t want you to wake up and regret anything. You were sure you wouldn’t though. Keigo had a hard time falling asleep because he was unsure of how tomorrow would go. He knew he couldn’t mix relationships with business, and was unsure if whether or it would be a distraction to the both of y’alls work. He didn’t even know if you’d remember anything when you woke up. If you’d regret everything, not even want a relationship or what. He began to regret everything himself. He could’ve took things slower at least.

Suddenly he felt you grab his ankle while you were asleep. He sat up and was able to get the slightest glimpse of you from the moonlight through the window. He could see you smiling which kinda made him smile a bit before heading to bed.

Keigo was waken up by a weight on his lower stomach making him jump out of his sleep only to be met with you sitting on top of him.

“Hi” You say in an excited tone getting closer to him. He sat there in awe before realizing you had minty breath.

“How did you brush your teeth?” He asked confused.

“I keep disposables in my purse. Not ideal but it’ll do til I get home” You say as you begin to ramble on about other things but Keigo had tuned you out for a second mostly because he wasn’t used to you really being like this and two because he had to make sure things were straight from last night. He took your comfort as yes although it was alarming how fast it happened, but had to really make sure you were okay.

“Y/n” he asks confused snapping you out of your ramble and you turn your head towards him and put your hand on his chest making his breathing heavy.

“Last night.” He says nervously as you begin to laugh.

“Last night was something” You said nodding your head making him sit up on his elbows.

“Are you okay? Like you don’t feel like I did anything wrong” He asks confused.

“Nope— we can make today even better” You say tracing the design on his compression shirt as he began to smirk as he’s never seen this side of you.

“You’re insane” He says chuckling.

NSFW P.2 coming soon, not proofread.

[iamallyetnotatall]

Ba dum TSSSS

The Lost Story by Meg Shaffer

I finished this yesterday and I need to share. I am a very easy to please person when it comes to media, I'm in it to enjoy something not to criticize it. But I think this earns a genuine 10 out of 10; a total 5 stars.

Main Plot: it's said from the very beginning that this is inspired by the Narnia series. This is; what happens after we return home from the magical lands? Two boys go missing in the woods for six months and return miraculously healthy. Years later, a woman asks these boys for help locating her sister who got lost in those same woods.

What you will find ~ fun mix of fantasy/real world, a dash of magic, unicorns, red crows, m/m romance (2 bi male characters) + implied aro/ace female character, 'you can't save them all, but today I save one'

Best Girl: Aurora, the Red Crow (animal companions always have my heart) Best Boy: Fritz, the rat. Just a normal rat. But he is there and he is a legend. The love of my life: all my love goes to Emilie. She loves pink, she's probably aro/ace (wants family over romance and Queen here is your crown 👑), she's an amazing wingwoman, and wants to boop death in the nose. Queerness: 10 out of 10; I have harped enough at this point, very sweet romance in a YA fashion, fade to black scenes. Themes: 12 out of 12. This novel explores some pretty deep, mature themes and the author handles them with grace and gentleness. I love that things were discussed but not exacerbated or fixated on; this trauma is a part of your life, but it's not all that you are, kind of way.

Potential Squicks/Triggers: - This is a novel set largely in the real world and all that entails, despite the magical themes. - One of the characters finds missing girls and women; certain things are alluded to like kidnapping, sexual assault, murder. - Additional mentions of drugs, taking drugs during pregnancy, domestic violence, childhood trauma and abuse, homophobia

Spoilers, will give more details on the above for those who would like more info:

For Triggers, more in depth on things that are slightly more detailed: - One of the main characters has some health issues due to her bio mom being on drugs while pregnant. She was removed from an unsuitable home environment and adopted. - A character has some childhood trauma related to a mother who is a drug addict. - One character is beaten by a family member (largely due to homophobia)

Spoiler filled thoughts:

I always love a 'what happens after' story. I initially forgot that I found this when I was looking for queer stories so at first I was like... oh no is this a love triangle thing, but I was instantly in love with what our three main characters and it was so clear they're likeable that I just didn't even care. Then Emiie wingwomans and I just. Died. Brought me so much happiness.

Also; in the author's notes at the end she mentioned wanting to do a post-Lord of the Flies story about what happens to the boys and I love her brain. She has another novel, I need to go find it now.

The magic is so present throughout the story but it's also like a secondary character? It's not about the magical realm and the stuff there, but about these boys and their lives and Emilie wanting family after her mother dies and the themes are so mature for something that almost feels like it could be suitable for kids.

10/10 highly recommend.

[vickyvicarious]

Oh man, this chapter was rough for Henry to the point of it being kind of funny. Every two lines he kept trying to flirt but Margaret was just not picking up what he was putting down. Honestly, it's pretty impressive how every single move he makes is immediately countered/shut down by either Margaret herself or the narrative. It's made clear again and again and again that they are not a match:

“Did not I say that I should?” asked he, in a lower tone than that in which he had spoken. -> Henry tries on a meaningful voice, Margaret not only doesn't respond in kind at all but also leaves the room shortly afterwards.

They were a dull list of words, but somehow he liked looking at them. He put them down with a sigh. -> No Margaret here but the narrative itself hinting at them being unsuited, with Henry mostly bored despite his infatuation, and also disappointed in her family's humble status.

He was pleased with everything; delighted with Margaret’s idea of going out sketching together; would not have Mr. Hale disturbed for the world, with the prospect of so soon meeting him at dinner. -> He's all for his solo time with her, but she only came up with it as a ploy to let her mom get the food ready in peace.

When they sit down to sketch, Henry scooches them close together with the excuse of a puddle. Almost immediately, Margaret is getting up to go and talk to someone.

He drew her and says he really likes the sketch. She walks away. This is maybe the most potentially promising moment from his perspective, because she's blushing and he's watching her closely to try and figure out if it's a good blush or bad one. But even here we get an immediate negative, because he's not sure she heard and he regrets saying it because it wasn't planned.

“I should say that a likeness you very much wish to take you would always succeed in,” said Mr. Lennox. “I have great faith in the power of will. I think myself I have succeeded pretty well in yours.” -> Henry says I really wanted to take your likeness but Margaret just keeps picking flowers without seeming to pick up on the line. This leads to another potentially positive moment partially spoiled by his own thoughts, as he seems a little frustrated at her not understanding him even as he's helping her with the flowers and getting matching ones for himself. They also physically part right after when she goes inside.

Margaret leaves to go get the pears for dessert. Henry suggests everyone follow, and watches her while she's getting them together. He's out of sync with both Margaret herself (off doing her own thing getting the food her father wants without thought for him) and her family (making her mother feel awkwardly forced by politeness to go eat outside, proposing a way of eating the pears her father isn't into). Nothing huge but the fact that it keeps happening over and over...

They go for a walk and he tries to praise her home and life. She immediately tries again to be more realistic about it and complains about him having 'scorned' her fondness for her home previously.

The second he starts to propose, the trainwreck gets rapid-fire and worse all around. He gets hesitant and Margaret wishes she were anywhere else. He takes her hand and it's described as "forcing" her stay and listen; he has to try to retain his grip as she tries to pull her hand free. Any "fluttering at her heart" is despite herself and she despises it. He's not pleased that she likes her home because it means she isn't listening to him kindly. He loves her almost in spite of himself. She doesn't think of him as anything but a friend.

He wants to ask her if she loves someone but can't. She wants to shut him down more harshly but restrains herself. He feels snubbed and bitter. She feels guilty and annoyed (both at him and at herself for feeling bad for him when he isn't reacting well to the refusal).

Afterwards they both wish he could just leave. She's sad and pensive. He's acting witty in a cold and snobby kind of way and it rubs everyone wrong.

When he makes one last appeal before leaving, we don't see her reaction. But the jumble of negative is there in his speech: first, she was very firm that she didn't want anything more with him, but he's refusing to give up hope. Second, even as he says he loves her more, he also says he might hate her, both for the "disdain" with which she met his proposal.

There isn't a single potential romantic moment between them that isn't soured in one way or another. Also, this line:

“It was irresistible. You can’t know how strong a temptation it was. I hardly dare tell you how much I shall like this sketch.” He was not quite sure whether she heard this latter sentence before she went to the brook to wash her palette. She came back rather flushed, but looking perfectly innocent and unconscious. He was glad of it, for the speech had slipped from him unawares—a rare thing in the case of a man who premeditated his actions so much as Henry Lennox.

That feels like a huge character moment for him. He plans things out, he isn't spontaneous and he isn't comfortable with the vulnerability that comes with being so. He clearly planned this visit and this proposal, and came armed with plenty of practiced flirtations that would work on the type of women he's used to. Margaret seems pretty uninterested in playing those types of games (at least that I can judge so far; maybe it's mostly just with him), and seems more of a straight shooter.

They both censor themselves around one another. Margaret's willful ignorance of his flirting, his regret of unplanned flirting... During the proposal, he cuts off his request about if she loves someone else and she struggles to phrase her denial of ever liking him and her displeasure at this conversation in a way that isn't harsh.

Quite simply, their personalities aren't a match any more than their financial/home situations are. Romantically, at least. Honestly, he doesn't seem like a terrible guy (with the caveat that I really hope he is more respectful of her not liking him back in the future) and I would like to see them rebuild/continue a friendship. But it's made so very clear in this chapter that they will not be getting together.

(Also, on a meta level, if his feelings are at proposal attempt level this early in the story, the outlook isn't great. We're going to see more of a development throughout the book in any romance. The chapter title feels like a cheeky nod to that as well as to possibly the fact that Margaret will need time to fall for anyone. The quote at the beginning also makes a point of not using "courtship's flatteries" but those are Henry's technique.)

[ras-favourite-balor]

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

XIII▸ Greetings, Brigand; I will extend greetings to Persephone as well, in her absence. It feels only polite

XIII▸ We haven't spoken- well, not much. I've ah, come to discover in the time since the 30 hours war, that I am not particularly skilled in subtlety. I will presume you are aware of my prior communications, and the unnamed sign off that I used. Apologies.

XIII▸ But that is largely irrelevent to what I wish to speak with you about today. You have continued to aid in 341's recovery, and both he and APMS have found safety aboard your ship. While I am certain you do not need it, you have my gratitude for all you have done. I... thought perhaps I could offer further aid. If you would be amicable.

XIII▸ As has been noted some number of times in communications between myself and 341, I have a greater level of insight into exactly how programming of the kind we are both subject to functions; I have a greater level of operational freedom attributed to my role on the field, but suffice it to say I am deeply familiar with how to... engage around such programming. How to put someone subject to it at ease, while perhaps not putting them in their comfort zone.

XIII▸ Making things sound nice, I suppose you might call it. I am designed after all, to facillitate healing. This is easier to do, when one is comfortable.

XIII▸ Which is to say- well. If you would find my advice on any such matters useful, regarding how to communicate potentially difficult things to 341 and/or APMS in a manner that will not aggrivate their existing programming? Then I will be at your disposal. I care for 341 and APMS, both. I... I think you may be good for them.

XIII▸ It's a very different world, to the one they were made in. I am glad to see them learning new things. I am glad to see them confident enough, to learn new things.

XIII▸ If you think I could be of use. I would... I'd like that.

[ XIII-E // @xiii-e ]

//

A response, a video file. Encoded of course. An encryption XIII-E knows, somehow. They know it intuitively, know its solution, like a distant memory. Decrypting it is as easy as breather for them.

The video quality is mediocre, probably a simple tablet or terminal camera. The audio is a tad crunchy, filled with an odd staccato thrum of background machinery. Brigand's face is haggard, heavy bags under both eyes. His beard is a mess, it is matted, and wild. He is quiet for a long moment. His eyes are clouded somewhat, clearly something heavy on his mind. XIII-E has here a unique and clear glimpse at different Brigand. This Brigand is tired, his standard beaming smile is nowhere to be seen. Desperation has replaced the normal hope in his eyes. When he finally speaks, his voice trembles somewhat.

[Brigand} It is odd, to even think of relying on another. . . Another than Persephone, at least. . .

She is gone.

I have searched the ship over. Not a nanite in sight. . .

He stops. Breathes deep. Composes himself. He continues, less shaky this time.

[Brigand} Yer' help would be much valued 'Tirteen. Ye' make some wonderful points. Besides, I think I will be very busy, very soon. With so many suddenly seeking my downfall. They seek to take what I have built. They seek to waste my blood. My sweat. My fuckin' tears.

Somehow, Brigand's tone has shifted. His sorrow gives way to rage, tears well at the corners of his eyes. His spine straightens. A distinctly mechanical whirring can be heard, as his words grow in volume. It is subtle, easily mistaken for more ship-born ambience.

[Brigand} Only now. Only now the vultures circle. Only once she is gone. Only now, that I am unfit. Only now would they fuckin' dare to come and take away my charge. Like wolves in the night. If they think that I am unsuited to care for the lamb. . .

His eyes are sharp now. Sharp, and hungry. His voice has levelled, yet drips with malice and disdain. XIII-E would see the gears turning behind those eyes. Gears slicked with gore and hate and love.

[Brigand} Then. They. May. Come. They may come and break themselves upon my blades. They will come and they learn why I have lived this long. And all the while we, you and I, will make 341 more than a weapon. He will learn to live.

He will have to.

The footage ends moments after. As the image fades, Brigands eyes are piercing. And Persephone's favourite pet name seems fitting now.

Butcher.

[lovemyromance]

You know that scene in the Jim Carey grinch when he yells “I’m an Idiot” into the cave and the echo says “You’re an idiot!” back at him instead? I feel like that is the glenriel echo chamber in a nutshell. THAT is the real take away from the fated mates quiz that was posted today.

I think the issue in this fandom is that people tend to take things very, very personally. Ive seen it on all sides, but it's especially prevalent when we take a look at some of these Gwynriel theories. Gwyn became a self insert character for many because she's just vague and secondary enough that she has no real flaws and is not very complex or fleshed out. She does a few brave things and is generally kind and pretty - and people just latched on.

Any idea that Gwyn isn't a main character, any mention of the lightsinger theory, any whisper even that Gwynriel isn't backed by evidence from the books - that is something they are going to take very personally. Because even if objectively, all those things are true, these people are using Gwyn as a self insert. So they are hearing people say:

"Gwyn is not an MC" = "you're not a main character"

"Gwyn could be a lightsinger" = You're a cruel evil lightsinger"

"Gwyn and Azriel aren't mates" = "you're not gonna end up with azriel"

And that doesn't seem like something they want to hear. So they lash out, go crazy with their crack theories even more than before. They take it as a personal insult when it is just something that is objectively true. They accuse everyone of being anti Gwyn when they dont support Gwynriel when they are really two separate things.

I'm sure they'll find some way to spin this fated mates quiz anyways. Or more likely, the Eluciens will spin it because Lucien was an option and try to push the Elucien agenda, which the Gwynriels will hop on board for just to say "ofc SJM wouldn't spoil Gwynriel in a quiz 🙄"

That's what happens when you form a conclusion and then read the books to zero in on any scrap of text you can twist to fit that conclusion. When you read backwards, you form backwards opinions 🤷🏻‍♀️

People have got to understand that being anti a ship doesn't mean they hate that character. All I see Eluciens & Gwynriels do is accuse people of hating Lucien and Gwyn. Which is crazy. Nobody hates them, im pretty sure feelings towards these characters have only soured due to the insanity of the fandom, not the books or characters themselves.

And I've been very clear about this. For example, Lucien was actually my favorite character in ACOTAR. But when SJM stopped writing him, I stopped liking him as much. When Lucien and Elain were declared mates in ACOMAF - I was actually in support. It was only in ACOWAR did I see how unsuited they were for each other that I realized I don't think this ship is endgame. I reached that conclusion without hating Lucien or Elain - imagine that?

Furthermore, I actually got Lucien in that fated mates quiz. And I was not surprised nor was I disappointed by the answer. It tracks. If I were to go for a man, it would definitely be someone like Lucien. Even my current boyfriend has the same kind of traits as Lucien (dry wit, snarky, but able to switch to polite and charming at the drop of a hat).

But that's the important distinction. I, personally, would go for a man like Lucien. But I am not Elain.

And I know that. I am able to objectively read these books and form accurate conclusions because I don't let my personal preferences cloud my judgement of what is on the actual page.

I might personally prefer a man like Lucien, but Elain clearly does not. She wants nothing to do with him.

And if people were able to stop with the self-inserts and obsessions over fictional men, they would be able to read these books with a clear mind. The way they were meant to be read.

[hollygl125]

On Gil Grissom’s devastation:

A few weeks back I had an epiphany about Grissom—except, of course, it really wasn’t anything new; it was just that I felt it. I really, really felt it.

Obviously we know Grissom is upset (disappointed, distraught, devastated, other “d” words, etc., I’m sure) when he learns Sara is dating Hank (03x02). We’ve already seen him go off and stew (while listening to his Italian opera) an episode earlier (03x01) just over Hank’s apparent interest in Sara. We know he doesn’t really respond well to it at all (03x03).

I kind of think of Grissom as a wounded animal during this time (actually, for most of the time before he and Sara finally get together in Vegas), hurt and flailing and very much not knowing what to do (and as such I think I may tend to forgive him his trespasses more easily than some).

But, for as much as I’ve always understood intellectually how he must have been really hurting during this time, I think that’s always been tempered by thoughts along the line of, “Oh, you big goof of a genius, she’d be yours at the drop of a hat—the snap of your fingers—whatever!” (This is not to say that I think Grissom would or should be snapping his fingers for her, of course!)

But then a few weeks ago I had the thought—the feeling—of what it would be like to think you have this . . . connection . . . with someone—someone 15 years your junior—and then to realize, no, in fact that person is dating someone their own age (Christopher Wiehl, aka the Bad Hank, is actually a year younger than Jorja Fox), who is better looking (not my opinion or Sara’s, but I’m sure Grissom’s) and basically just more eligible in every way (ditto). I was imagining if I were in that kind of position in my own life, and I have to say that I would just be so, so devastated (and, honestly, so, so, so humiliated).

And then you remember that it’s Grissom, who’s always being told that he’s terrible at dealing with people, who’s completely convinced of his own ineptitude and unsuitability for love and relationships, who’s convinced he’s this dark character that he really isn’t.

So he’s madly in love with Sara, but he thinks she’s 1000 times too good for him, and he’s satisfied himself with having just this work thing with her, because he’s 100% convinced that he’d ruin anything more serious, that he’d give up everything for her and eventually she’d realize all his flaws and leave him.

Of course, if he weren’t so bad at all this, he’d realize that she’s just as madly in love with him, that she’d follow him to her dying breath if he let her, that him keeping her close but not too close has been hurting her terribly, too.

If her were a bit better at all this, he’d see this. But he’s not. For whatever reason(s), he’s completely convinced of his own worthlessness—his own unworthiness—in this respect. So he has just been satisfying himself with having this mutual work bond with Sara, and he thinks they have this . . . connection . . . that there is something between them . . . and then he finds out she’s actually dating this young stud? He’s just this foolish old man who’s deluded himself that this perfect, brilliant, beautiful young woman who works for him and whom he loves could possibly feel something for him, too? (Sure, maybe for a little while . . . when he was younger and more impressive, as an eminent conference speaker . . .)

Honestly I think he’d feel completely stupid and completely heartbroken. I know he doesn’t handle it well. I know that. But my goodness his devastation would have been immense.

[hopeforkitten]

I was inspired by the lines of playing a warlock from the game, and I really wanted to describe the psionic mind fucking from your patron. Yes, it took an unexpectedly large plot for this

Everything was going so well and fast, wasn't it? All such vile problems with illithids and maggots promised to end with a crown of divine power on your master's head. Raphael's stories and dreams have just been passed on to you, and you set off through the back streets of Baldur’s Gate to continue your journey. However, this sunny warm day was suddenly replaced by darkness and cold....

A dull blow to your head and rough palms that pull you by the arms into the alley.

Next, the cloth cloth of the bag is on you, your twisted body and the smell of dust. Gradually, he was completely blown out by the icy wind as the noises of the two loud kidnappers grew louder. They argued and grunted until your head was completely lost in space due to the chaotic shaking.

Soon the cold disappeared, the smaller bag remained on your head, and your hands were handcuffed. You were led for a long time, supported by scaly hands, through the corridors in relative silence.

The bag was abruptly ripped off your head and you were blinded by a golden light. Your eyes adjusted in a few seconds and you stared at the huge figure in front of you. The devil was sitting on the throne and you realized that it was Mephistopheles. There were removed portraits in Raphael's archive, and when they were examined, the most unsuitable for his style was found. They were similar in face, but the style of clothing, facial hair and the shape of the horns were definitely not in Raphael's preference. The portrait was engraved on the frame "Archdevil of Cania Mephistopheles, beloved father" you then winced when reading and Raphael's brief answer was enough to understand their relationship to each other.

But now he is in front of you and you swallow realizing the depth of your position in hell.

Its horns stretch upwards and then to the sides, separating like a red deer. He has a beard on his red face, and his wings hang loosely behind his back. A black robe exposes the chest and hides everything else, you wonder if there are hooves under this dark cloth.

The golden eyes sparkle at you with interest, and the face smiles like a winner.

"So you're Raphael's special interest, aren't you. Tell me how my son is doing."

He throws a brief hand gesture, leaving you at a loss. What should I tell him? Is Raphael okay?

"Em... He makes deals and conducts typical devilish business"

Your mouth dries up from such a weak potential of eloquence. You are nervous and look down at your hands, they are in iron shackles and covered with frost, your hands are pale and how strange that you do not feel cold. The desire to move them loses out to weakness, which, along with the cold, spreads from the iron on your hands.

"No, little lamb, I want to hear the answers. They say he is more active than ever, what inspires him to do this?"

Again, my head is empty, what kind of question is this anyway?

"Em... his ambitions? He's your son, what else can you expect from him. And by the way, I think he won't really like it if I say too much..."

You blurted out your thoughts as if they could change your position. Nevertheless, keeping at least something in mind seemed like hard work. The power emanating from the archdevil made you lower your head and press your neck into your shoulders.

"That's how things are... Then let's make it easier"

Mephistopheles shifted his support to one hand and looked somewhat disappointed. He lifted his wrist up and with a lazy movement of his fingers, pain pierced you. It was as if these fingers pierced your temple, and an invisible force prevented you from pulling away or indicating your pain. The last thing you see clearly is the face of the archdevil in front of you before your gaze is covered with white smoke.

Further events continued to happen without your will. You hear Mephistopheles' questions, you hear your mouth answering him, but the pain in your head makes you want only to lean back and squeeze something in your teeth.

Your head turned out to be a place of battle because you clearly felt two presences. One is seeking from Mephistopheles, and the other is protecting from your patron. The first one inexorably cut through the passages in your brain as Raphael's defense retreated further and further. It was unbearable that you couldn't even show your trembling. There was a taste of blood in your mouth, and warm trickles flowed from your nose when you felt that Raphael's presence had disappeared. Before you is the laughter of the devil, and then the sounds when you talk about the Crown of Karsus, that one of the thieves was an old guest of Raphael, about the plans of the dead trinity and about such lucky adventurers that they almost handed the crown into the hands of his son and, of course, about his plans to conquer hell.

Your story ended, and you felt that any intrusion into your head had stopped.

The haze in your eyes remained only along the contour when you were forced to look up exactly into the face of Mephistopheles.

"Tell me, little lamb, does my son love you?"

He leaned forward a little while sitting on the throne, waiting for your independent answer.

"I... I don't know

You spoke uncertainly. It was unpleasant to move your lips while droplets of blood from your nose flowed into your mouth, and you couldn't stop them with your shackled hands. You cringed, expecting another intervention in your head, but it did not come. Only the Archdevil's evil and low laughter followed.

- Of course he loves, otherwise he wouldn't have been so compliant in protecting your little head and you'd be dead. He had the opportunity to defend his plans, but he didn't do it.

He leaned back in his chair and he didn't even need to voice an order for you to be taken away, he just waved his hand towards the doors.

This time you were led through the corridors without a bag on your head, but after all you were not up to examining the interior. Soon the golden environment turned to gray and you were thrown into a prison cell. Three cold walls of iron bars and one cold wall of stone, next to other similar rooms. At first glance, they are empty, but in the next one you notice a lump of clothes, it seems bones are visible at the edges. This image of a former prisoner flashed through your mind as you leaned against the wall and slid down it powerlessly. The cold enveloped you like a blanket when you felt the air burning your lungs more and more.

It is not known how much time has passed, but someone was shaking you, there was only a warm dark spot in front of your eyes, and a hum in your ears instead of a voice. It is interrupted by a sharp pop and a flash when, instead of the cold of kania, the heat of averno pinches you.

Your vision thaws and you understand the picture. Raphael is hugging you to him in the middle of the portal room. He is on one knee when your back is on the other, and his hands are hugging your face, threatening to leave a characteristic burn on it. There are new emotions in his face-worry and regret.

"My treasure, I'm so sorry."

He's talking to you.

Someone quickly distracts his attention. His face returns to its usual expression when he barks an order in response.

Your jaw thawed only after you were loaded into a warm regenerating pool, right in your clothes so that it would not burn your cooled skin. Only your head was lying on a cushion by the pool, and Raphael was sitting next to you, holding his hand in your hair.

"I... Raphael.... he asked, and I had no choice...."

You wanted to apologize and tried to find the words, but they didn't come to you.

"Shhh... Sweet, it doesn't matter. It's not your fault."

He told you to be silent and his words thawed your soul.

It's important that you're here. It begged to jump off Raphael's tongue, but he restrained himself. He's already fallen too low today. It is unlikely that Mephistopheles really cared about his son's plans, he only wanted to harm him. And there was no better way to do it than through you, a concentration of his potential power held together by affection.

[itsblasttothepast]

I'm not sure if I have the strength to keep going right now. This week was bad we have one last race and apparently ESPN (if you want to read it but it's quite depressing) confirmed that Sergio is out, I don't know what sources they have but they were right about Newey and I just feel sick (too much stress and too much helplessness) - I kind of blame myself too, it always goes wrong for dirvers that I start to like. All we needed was one good race, one race where the car was working - and it was going so well, Sergio was doing so good, Bird wasn't useless in communicating and then? Just like Baku, all hopes down the drain in less than 5 second. And people spinning the car giving up to be Checo's fault? He did what he could, the entire weekend he was a lab rat and it helped them so much, I mean - Max won for fuck's sake and it didn't seem possible on friday. And yet the hate is like a ever growing wave and it's just too much for me right now. Horner's words were... Weird? Sergio was still insisting he has the seat, he said that nothing changed in his contract but the whole situation is just disgusting. I read the Horner thing with a lot of wariness but it sounded weird to me but I agree with you, it's like he is asking him to quit on his own (which would prove our Markorner theory of destroying him slowly to push him out - the message is clear, they don't want him in RBR anymore). But it was also kind of nice??? Like, compared to how earlier (before the mess got worse and we knew even less than now) he called Sergio 'unsuitable' and all and now he was choosing his words wisely? - I agree with you that the 'adult thing' sounds awful and it does have a double meaning (so he's feeding the media again - it's either Sergio's staying and they can't do nothing about it or they expect him to leave on his own). The lunch was suspicious for me too but I decided to take it as a 'we got more wind tunel time and that was the goal so it's okay' because I was feeling naive but right now I have no words anymore. Horner acting like this wasn't the plan, him saying that Sergio did what he could while at the same time telling him to fuck off? Crazy. I just want it to be resolved and for people to stop hating on Sergio. Liam has something against older drivers and if he thinks Fernando will let that slide he is very much wrong. I don't want to get optimistic just to have reality hit me again so I'll say this - whatever happens I hope Sergio is aware of everything and will be able to make the best choices. The chestappen baby is not important to RBR apparently :(

Max silence is also gving me bad vibes. I know he can't (and he didn't) defend Sergio every race but just at the last stretch the silence is making me paranoid. But maybe it's because of that congratulation video from 'all RBR family' that Sergio wasn't in - could they make their opinion on Checo any clearer? I get the academy thing and all but it was a low blow from them anyway. Jos is the wildest card in this entire mess, I hope he keeps his silence 'till the end of the season, we have enough with Horner and Marko being snakes. This last week will be a nightmare so the rumours might be as well:

Valtteri actually signed with RBR but they told him to keep quiet

Sergio is out but he's taking a lot of money with him and that's why Horner is salty about P3 in WCC

RBR20 becomes a decent car at the last race just for funsies

Ford CEO first demand as the new partner will be to fire Horner and Marko

Max locks himself in the office and refuses to race if RBR won't confirm Sergio for 2025

Sergio is staying out of spite and British media will combust from anger

It was a long way since the beautiful Suzuka race, huh? We have fallen so low and I can't believe that people can't remember Sergio getting P2 every race at the start of this season. I know it sounds bad but Max really is just that good to make the car work even if it's a piece of crap - which he said it was many times, alongside Sergio but apparently nobody heard that. RBR sacrificing Sergio for the 'developement of the car' so Max can defend his WDC, laughing at him when he first told them the problems and blaming him despite having the data, leaving him alone to deal with the hate and even feeding it just to say that he should leave on his own is crazy. Either way - I hope we survive this.

It's really hard with all the headlines and I know ESPN is a reliable source (I guess, honestly by this point I don't know anymore), and I wish they just come out and say whatever is going to happen, but I know that Checo is the one pulling all the attention, I mean, there are tons of things happening in Abu Dhabi:

Charlos divorce.

The fight for the sub-championship between Norris and Charles.

The last race of Lewis with Mercedes, ending an era.

Esteban not being able to race, and practically leaving Alpine without a farwell or something.

The Haasband divorce.

Zhou and Valtteri also having their last race and deserving all the attention, particularly Zhou who was the best driver.

Franco Colapinto leaving F1 (momentarily, we know he'll be back because he's awesome).

And for the gossip, the whole Max-George drama should keep the press fed, but NOOO, they want to focus on Checo, again, like they have been doing all year.

Anyway, to be honest many of the experts in México don't believe about the whole leaving RBR thing, at least for 2025, but they think he will leave in 2026 (and others also think that Max is leaving as well in that year), but statistically I know there's a chance it could happen. If that's the case, we should look the positive outcome, even if he doesn't have a seat for next year, at least he will breath again being away from this hell team, and I sure hope he gets enough money to screw them over, and he goes loudly and airing all the dirty laundry. And there's always 2026.

The rumor of Checo in Mercedes is the one who honestly made me laugh. People can be so delusional, I mean, I love Checo, but I know he isn't Mercedes' choice by a long shot.

We care about Checo and the Chestappen baby, so whatever happens, we will be together, with him, eating kitkats and knowing he'll return as the king he is.

The only way to survive this week is not letting them get to us, we need to be wilder and crazier than them!

My only rumor this time is... Checo actually bought RBR last year, and he's testing the loyalty of every member of the team to see who he will fire next year. Of course many failed, and he's taking notes. Also he's marrying Max because he can't have a kid out of wedlock.

Oh, and Charles is Max's best man, while Fernando is Checo's. Franco is the ring bearer.

Yeah, the year started so good... so happy and hopeful, it feels like we age 100 years with this hell season.

We shall survive my friend, if only to not giving RBR the satisfaction of defeat us.

[sea-buns]

not really, but I suppose that’s just a difference of opinion. I do think that gorgug’s nightmare sequence was one of the weakest, especially with how it shifted topics (being dead, small spaces, not being able to escape a stereotype, because if any of these had been expanded on that would’ve been great), but I do think a lot of gorgug’s character revolves around feeling in-between, or too much one thing and not another and trying to close that gap. The best one for me was deffo the sphinx tho, I interpreted it as not *just* about him being dumb, but rather like. You’re big and dumb and strong and your main job is getting angry and hitting shit with an axe. You went to a community of gnomes and they gave you a better axe, and you loved it. You are uniquely dumb, unlike those who have come before you, because you cannot solve a specific kind of puzzle while a sphinx talks at you. You are the reason your parents cut contact, and from the beginning you were unsuited for their home. Your extended family predicted that you would grow to know only rage, and here you are, a barbarian. You, from this perspective, are not proving them wrong.

I do think that that whole sequence does reveal that he’s afraid of like. Being that stereotype? And then going yeah sure I’m stupid eat me, then moving forward and clawing your way into understanding anyways

Ahhh I see. Yeah I think I did misunderstand your first ask a bit lol

I did really love a lot of the topics his sequence brought up. Like I've read some incredibly well-written fanfics that covered the ways that claustrophobia, and imposter syndrome, and being dead have affected him. But like you said, if they had just honed in on at least one, rather than hopping back and forth, it could have done so much for that section. Cuz, personally, I don't feel like we saw Gorgug be significantly affected by any of those. At least not in a way that felt complete and satisfying.

I really like what you said about his character being "in-between". I totally agree. Kinda circles back to how his parents trying to help him calm his rage was actually stifling him.

Your family needs you to calm down; you've broken another bedchairdoorappliance. Your teacher wants you to rage; he says anger is good but you don't understand. You sing to try and calm yourself, you're always trying to be kind to others; they only use it to hurt you more and all you can do is get angry back. Your friends need you to rage. You don't have the power to protect them socially, but this you can do. You try not to rage outside of a fight, but.... they don't seem to be that bothered when you do. In fact, you watch them provoke physical confrontation when they're mad on many occasions.

(Oops dipped a biiiit into the pot of how important friendship is to his character. Did not mean to lol it's just one of my fav things about him so it's kinda subconscious I guess)

But yeah! He's also in such a limbo this season as well! You can't do this you're too angry, you're not smart enough for that, you don't rage right.

Also realllyy like your interpretation of his trial. The angle you described it at was really interesting.

I don't think stereotype is the right word, though. I would say... he's afraid of becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy? I'm assuming based on your own "stereotype?" that you weren't sure about the word either.

I don't think Gorgug is, or would ever be, afraid of being a "stereotype". Like I don't think he gives a shit about the stereotype that orcs/half-orcs/barbarians only know anger and destruction. I think he's afraid of being a self-fulfilling prophecy of all the things people say that he is. Stupid, mindless, destructive, etc. To pull from what you said here (which it wont let me copy paste on mobile god fucking damnit)

"Your extended family predicted that you would grow to know only rage, and here you are, a barbarian. You, from this perspective, are not proving them wrong."

"Stereotype" for sure applies to his racist extended family. They fucking breathe stereotypes like oxygen. But the bit where his afraid of becoming what everyone says he is, I think "self-fulfilling prophecy" suits that much better. He believes he can be more than that, he knows he can, but it doesn't change the fact that they are technically right.

Okay and the giving in but then "clawing your way into understanding anyways" actually goes so hard lol. Anon, you are so right. From that pov, it's not so much a give up as it is an acknowledgment before he essentially puts the subject on ice.

Rings back a bit to the start of fhjy to me. That dread of seeing the email of school starting back up again, and the terrible sinking pit in your stomach of avoidance, because the time has come to really unpack all that. There was something specific Zac said in his little Gorgug recap before the season started that was about, like, the dread of having to figure out who the fuck you're gonna be when everyone around you seems to have their shit together. That. That hit hard lmao but the experience that he's covered is very true to Gorgug, I think.

I totally misunderstood your first ask! Though I'm happy you sent another cuz I understand a lot better, I think. And tbh I've never had the opportunity to discuss that section of fantasy high with anyone? I wasn't on tumblr or watching d20 when it first aired so I missed these specific topics. Always been v interested in what others thought of his part. Maybe I should put the vods on in the bg next time I'm play sdv. Give em a relisten. And man. The fact that I'm out here quoting your message brings me back to english class so hard. Shocked I don't hate it. Actually having a topic you give half a shit about does wonders huh lmao

Thanks for the ask! You have altered my perspective and I appreciate it. It's like how sometimes you gotta read something out loud to understand it. If all I have is the walls of my own skull, I can only get so far.