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seeingivy · 4 months ago

Text

sweetener

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

previous part linked here

megumi fushiguro has a penchant for three things. to be overly curious, unyieldingly inquisitive, and have a considerably noticeable lack of restraint when it comes to personal boundaries. that much has been true since you met him in the sixth grade.

in most cases, those are the three things that you appreciate the most about him; that he can look over your songs and artwork with thoughtful questions, encourage changes and tweaks you couldn’t have dreamed up yourself, and at the very least, be the vote of confidence that pushed you out of your comfort zones at times – which was severely needed at times.

in the current situation, all three of those tendencies were working against you. because you were about to get a very severe interrogation. nothing stopped him from getting the answers that he wanted.

“so were you planning on telling me you were dating sukuna or was that just supposed to be a happy surprise?” he mutters.

you turn to your left to eye him – noting that his usual uninterested glare is more steely than usual – as you shoot him a polite smile. granted, knowing the situation and knowing megumi fushiguro as well as you do, you could have supposed that your ritual thursday morning coffee run would be subject to this interrogation. that at some level, you were even asking fo rit.

there isn’t anything that megumi fushiguro doesn’t know about you. there isn’t anything that you don’t know about him. nothing has ever stopped you – a time zone, long distance, even forcible attempts – so the current predicament, that you have yet to tell him about your very public relationship, was a recipe for disaster.

and you know for a fact that if it were you, you would be doing way worse.

“are you going to respond?” he asks, the tone in his voice giving away his impatience.

the current walk reminds you of one thing. that being subject to irritated glare that megumi usually reserves for other people and very rarely sports towards you isn’t a feeling that you necessarily like. or ever want to get used to.

“if i answer happy surprise, will you be more annoyed than you already are?” you joke.

“take a guess.” he deadpans.

you frown, looping your arm in through his as you both cross the sidewalk, on your walk three blocks down to the play coffee, where you’re meeting sukuna and yuuji for breakfast. granted, that invite – and the fact that it didn’t come from you either – didn’t necessarily help the situation at hand.

megumi’s comments about yuuji being overly enthusiastic about meeting you, and the fact that you were now dating sukuna, were clearly no joke.

“i just find it really strange. i’m not really sure what angle you’re playing at here.” megumi states.

you sigh.

“i’m not playing at an angle. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you before and i know that not telling you doesn’t really help my case, but there is no angle. sukuna and i are just talking. we aren’t even dating yet.” you state.

megumi clears his throat.

“yet?”

“well, we’ll see where it goes. maybe we won’t even date at all. or we will, for a really long time. i’m just playing the entire thing by ear since it’s been a while since i’ve talked to someone i didn’t really know beforehand.”

megumi scoffs.

“so you realized you made a mistake by deciding to date the guy who's been your best friend for two years and then decided to turn around and do the opposite thing the next time you tried to talk to someone? by talking to a stranger?”

“he’s not a stranger! he’s romeo’s brother, that definitely helps in his case.”

megumi’s uncharacteristically silent. you wrap your arm around his wrist and pull back, gesturing for him to stop in the middle of the sidewalk before letting go. you can tell that he’s unrelenting, barely even meeting your eyes as you teeter back and forth on the balls of your feet, and wait for him to talk again.

“megumi.” you murmur.

“what’s the angle? i know you.” he responds back, almost exasperated.

you debate telling him the truth. debate telling him the truth and hearing it from him in earnest – that he doesn’t think you’re very smart, that your career certainly can’t mean so much that you’d pretend to date someone, and that you’re thoughtless for messing with something that’s so important to him in the process.

yuuji. and his family, by proxy.

“there is no angle. he was the one who approached me and i’m just getting to know him. i didn’t even realize he was romeo’s brother until after the first time that we talked.” you state.

“you didn’t realize that his twin brother….was his brother?” he asks.

“they’re fraternal. and it was dark.” you state.

“so the whole song, basketball game, that was all just an extra bonus? a surprisingly convenient way to get back at jake and aimee?” he asks.

you sigh.

“okay. so things were public a little fast. so fast that i didn’t even get to tell you about it beforehand. and maybe part of it was me being mad at jake and aimee and just feeling irritated and…and he was there to help me…but i’m not purposely leaving you out of anything. it just happened. and yes, it benefits him too since she’s been talking about him in the press, but it wasn’t planned.” you state.

you pause before continuing.

“you’ve been busy with press. this is the first time i’ve seen you in a while. and i swear, if i had a chance to tell you – not over the phone by the way and actually in person – you would be the first to know.”

megumi looks over, sparing the smallest smile, on which you return to his side and loop your arm through his before leaning your cheek against his bicep.

“you can understand why i’m concerned, right?” he murmurs.

“i know. i don’t want us to interfere with your almost eighteen month attempt at your… whatever…with romeo.”

megumi clicks his tongue in his cheek.

“this is not about yuuji. i could care less about that. this is about you.” he deadpans.

“what about me?”

megumi sighs.

“about you and aimee. what interacting with her can do. how obsessive it can become.” he states.

there’s an overwhelming dry patch in your throat.

“i don’t care that you didn’t tell me on time. i don’t even really care that you’re dating him. i…think he’s great. he clearly cares about you a lot, he asks me stuff about you all the time. i’m just worried about you. you’re thinking about aimee a lot. getting involved with her again. i just wanted to make sure that you were fine.”

you understand the implication and frown.

“i’m fine. if it was like that, i would have told you.”

“but you understand why i’m asking? because there was a time that you didn’t tell me. quite literally the only time in your life that you’ve withheld anything from me. and i don’t want things to escalate so far that…that i miss something.”

you turn towards him, reaching forward to place a hand on his shoulder. the searing guilt that this is the second time now – the second time that you’re willingly withholding something from megumi – makes your stomach twist in a way that you don’t like.

“i haven’t even given her a second thought.”

that was a lie too. a third.

“and trust me. more than anything, i’m more annoyed that jake has zero class.” you add.

megumi scoffs.

“well, i could have told you that much from the start. who wears khakis to a black tie formal?” he asks.

you laugh.

“plus. isn’t that kind of cute? that we’re dating two brothers? we’re like sister wives!”

“or brother husbands. and i thought you weren’t dating.” megumi states.

“yet. who knows where it’s going to go from here?” you clarify.

“well, sukuna definitely wants it to go that way. he really does ask about you. quite often, i might add.” he mentions.

you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm up. that your curiosity’s been piqued maybe a little more than it should have. it would give away too much – but you need to know every detail. the tone of his voice, the order he said it all in, if he smiled when he talked about you.

“what did he say?”

“he was just admiring that you’re very clever. the whole espresso thing. which i think is fucking ridiculous because you hate coffee, but i get the connection. honestly, i feel like he’s kind of shocked that you even like him in the first place.”

“what’s he so shocked about?”

megumi shrugs.

“i don’t know. i guess he’s used to people settling for him or something along those lines according to yuuji. but he’s been pretty happen since you came around.”

happy that you’re going to save his career.

one thing was very clear to you from the deep dive internet search that you did on sukuna a few days prior. that if there was one thing that was beloved to him – and his fans – it was the coffee shop that he worked at when he was sixteen.

play coffee was nestled at the end of the block, right on the corner next to a convenience store. just from the design inside – old stained glass windows, red bricks – you could tell that the building was definitely repurposed from its original use.

“yuuji told me that he was out back moving some things into stock. i’m gonna go talk to him before we join you guys, okay?”

“sure. do you want me to order for you?”

“sure. just ask sukuna to get me my usual.” megumi notes.

you shoot him a polite nod, before pushing through the double glass doors, and stopping short of the display case. there’s no one you can see towards the front counter – the unmistakable pink hair nowhere to be found – as you stop to take note of the pastries in the glass case.

a sheet cake, perfectly sliced at the bottom, next to a glistening pie, with an intricately designed crust. three donuts in a line, a bundt cake, and what you’re guessing is the most extensive assortment of croissants that you’ve ever seen in your life.

you pause to take a picture of the pie crust, noting the braided pattern on the outer edge, before you’re startled by the presence of another voice.

“which one caught your eye?”

the woman standing at your side is looking over at you, eyes wide and expectant as she waits for an answer, and as you clock exactly who she is. some part of you was convinced that your searing memory – the fact that you remember everything in painstaking detail – had to be some type of superpower at this point.

alina. sukuna’s boss. she’s the one that owns the coffee shop. and by proxy, you assume the woman that sukuna’s so overly fond of to stay here and invest in for so long.

“the pie. it’s lemon meringue right?”

“that’s right.”

“i was just admiring the design on the crust. it’s hard to find places that have such intricate crusts. or even offer lemon meringue as an option. i usually have to make it on my own.”

alina hums in response.

“sour on the outside, sweet on the inside. is that your type?” she states.

“what?”

“that’s how sukuna makes that one. he makes the meringue more sour and the filling more sweet. swears that it’s better that way. is that the type of lemon meringue pie you like?”

you give her a polite nod. and note that you’re not the only one who seems to remember things in painstaking detail.

“sorry, yeah. you said sukuna made it?” you ask.

she gives you a smile.

“he’s a big baker. something you’ll have to get used to, i suppose, since his mom says that he does get an itch to start baking in the middle of the night sometimes.”

you give her an awkward smile. of course she knows who you are. if he’s close enough to save her coffee shop from being evicted, he’s definitely going to let her know when he’s seeing someone new.

it was normal. what you did wasn’t.

“i’m kind of an insomniac too, so that would be fine with me. and i like baking. and it doesn’t seem like he’s half bad at it.” you ask.

“you like baking too?” she asks.

“oh, i try to make my own food when i can. taking the time to make it makes it easier for me to eat it and enjoy it.” you state.

you smile, swallowing down the warmth that’s settling into your throat, to keep the conversation going. and hope that wasn’t an awkward thing ot say.

“he’s been talking about you. playing your espresso song in the shop because he claims it’s good for business, but i think it’s just because he likes it so much.”

“oh. you play my song here? that’s really sweet of you guys.”

you pause, before turning to the left and extending your hand out to her. it’s an opportune time because it’s right as sukuna comes out of the closed door in the back – a glistening sheen of sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. you note that the dress code that everyone seemed to follow – at least from the pictures that you saw on the website – is one that applied to everyone but sukuna.

because you can see his fully tattooed arms on display in the dark green tank top he’s wearing. you restrain yourself from looking at the art on his arm fully and look up to find him grinning at you, looking a little too happy for your liking.

he probably thinks that you were checking him out.

“you could have hollered when you got here, y/n. and of course we played your song here.” sukuna states.

“well, that would have gotten you and your sweat over here faster. plus, i was introducing myself to alina.” you respond.

sukuna laughs.

“trust me, you don’t need an introduction. i’m convinced i know more about you than you do at this point.” alina murmurs.

sukuna turns around to narrow his eyes at her, one that makes her smile very brightly, before she scuttles away towards the back.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“she’s like my pseudo mom. she just asked a lot of questions about you, that’s all.”

you narrow your eyes at him.

“and how were you able to come up with so many answers?”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“your best friend since childhood has been my co-worker for the past year. and he also lingers around my apartment basically everyday.”

“i have a sneaking suspicion that’s not really true, sukuna.” you state.

“oh?”

you shrug.

“i never even told you we were childhood best friends. how would you know to ask him? and he’s not exactly standing around at your apartment to talk to you.” you note.

sukuna shakes his head, almost like he’s dismissing the entire conversation away with one shake, before he crouches in front of the glass case of the pastries, eyeing them all one by one. you note that he’s pretty meticulous – at least with the order – because he starts rearranging all of them in a specific order.

“i actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

sukuna gives you a nod, almost like he’s indicating that you have his full attention, not diverting his eyes from the case.

“well, what are we doing?” you whisper.

“i’m rearranging the pastries because yuuji doesn’t know what alphabetical order means. you’re admiring me from a distance, very shamelessly i might add.” he notes.

you bite down on your cheek, before crouching down to whisper properly.

“i mean. you’re almost at the end of press. i basically pissed off jake and aimee like you said. aren’t we good to..i don’t know…fizzle out?”

sukuna scunches up his face at the sound of your words. almost like he’s irritated you’d even position this in the first place.

“are you seriously backing out because you’re scared?” he asks.

“scared? what could i possibly have to be scared of?”

he finally diverts his gaze from the case, retreating his hand back to his lap, and trying to discern the look on your face from his scrunched eyes.

“you tell me. you’re the one who is backing out right now.” he murmurs.

you clear your throat.

“i don’t see a point.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“i can spend another time trying to convince you of the point. but trust me, you don’t want to go into the premiere party on friday without me. i got not one but two messages last night that weren’t exactly pleasant.”

“what? from who?”

“the pope.” he deadpans.

“really?”

“are you crazy? one from aimee telling me that she missed me. and one from jake telling me that i needed to be careful with you or else.”

“what?”

“exactly. they’re definitely not going to drop this. and at this point in time, it really wouldn’t make sense for us to do it either. i didn’t necessarily help your case by pissing him off at the basketball game and now i’m not just going to leave you defenseless.”

“i’m not defens..”

sukuna rolls his eyes, placing his hand flat on your cheek in efforts to silence you, as alina sticks a plate of the pie right on the counter where the two of you are standing. you note that she smiles at the two of you – almost double taking to observe how sukuna’s holding your cheek – before she walks away.

you can feel your cheeks warm as he drops his hand, his soft touch retreating. he gives you a sweet smile, one that you don’t entirely understand, as he beckons for you to follow him, leading you the booth all the way at the end.

you can see that yuuji is tending to the flowers that are in the box out front through the window, and that a few feet behind, megumi’s watching him very fondly as he continues to talk. sukuna follows your line of vision, before clearing his throat.

“ten bucks megumi makes the first move.”

“oh, you’re so full of shit. it’s either going to be yuuji or it’s never happening.”

“oh ye of little faith. trust me, if anyone’s hopeless over there, it’s yuuji.”

you scoff.

“please. you don’t know anything about megumi”

“and you know nothing about yuuji. he’s still convinced that megumi is straight.” he whispers.

you widen your eyes.

“is he serious?” you whisper.

sukuna leans forward, close enough that you can smell the faintest whiff of his cologne.

“don’t you think that this thing we’re doing is fun?” he whispers.

you lean back, and he’s keen to follow, as he closed the distance between you two. you’re confused by the glint in his eye – that it’s filled with something that you can’t really place – as you lean back.

“i’m not sure i follow, starfire.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“are you so daft, robin?”

“it appears i am.” you deadpan.

“you and i are telling people that we’re dating. presumably, most people think that we’re probably in love. and at this point in time, that’s a lie. it’s a lie that you know and it’s a lie that i know. and every time i do something to make it obvious – like touch your cheek or respond to something you say online – you seem really exasperated. you roll your eyes at me like you think i’m insane.”

“and?”

“i’ve made you an accomplice in my lie. our lie. and every time i do, you seem to shift a little. you don’t really meet my eyes – just like you wouldn’t the other day or even a few minutes ago in front of alina – and i swear you get a flush down your cheeks. it’s one of my favorite things about you.”

you clear your throat.

“and?”

“and it’s because we’re around other people. we have a secret. one that’s just ours. and isn’t that the most intimate thing we can share?”

“sukuna, you…”

right at that second, megumi and yuuji slide into the other side of the booth, the latter of which spares you such a bright smile that you have to swallow down the lump in your throat that sukuna’s words just caused. they’re so loud that it nearly startles you, as you push farther away from sukuna and place your hand on the back of your neck – in futile attempts to hide the flush creeping down your neck that he was so fond of.

sukuna shoots you a smile. you know exactly what it means.

“hi y/n! i’m yuuji, i’m so excited to meet you!” he states.

you smile, physically shaking your head to will the thought away, as you extend your hand out to him. nearly disoriented from the words sukuna had just said to you.

“me too. i’ve heard so much about you.” you respond, noting that your voice very noticeably cracks as you awkwardly extend your hand out.

it’s something that megumi seems to catch on to pretty fast, as he narrows his eyes at you from across the table.

“what were you guys talking about? seemed pretty deep in thought there.” megumi asks, as he flips his fingers through the menu.

“sorry, megumi. we can’t share. it’s a secret.” sukuna murmurs, taking the time to spare you a sweet smile.

the next time you see sukuna is almost a week after, at the after party of the premiere. he’s stuck doing last minute press – and you’re too intimidated by whatever secret the two of you are sharing to reach out again – so you stop yourself from asking to see him again.

you refrain from thinking about the implications of everything he said another time, about what it meant that jake and aimee messaged him, about how he wouldn’t leave you defenseless, and instead opt to watch the ice slowly melt in your glass from the corner.

to try to figure out what sukuna’s going to spring on you next time – so at the very least, this time you can muster a response. which at this point felt like an entirely impossible pursuit.

you stick to the same corner at the party, watching megumi from a distance.

megumi was very clearly the star of the show. you were barely able to get a hold of him since the start of the party, when he was whisked off by his producer, and basically got bounced through every small group of people at the party.

the closest you were to being near him was your current spot in the little bar, where you’re dead across from the big promotional poster they put behind the counter.

“hey. are you having fun?”

you turn to your left to find yuuji at your side, his normal exuberant energy slightly diminished, as he sends you a tired smile. you give him a nod, beckoning for him to take the seat next to you and slide over the leftover soda in your class.

“not as much fun as you, superstar.” you state.

“i can’t even feel my feet.” he groans.

you smile.

“well, this is just the first of many for you. you were great in the show.” you note.

he offers you a smile, his face so expressive that you can almost physically see that he’s touched in the curve of his cheeks, as he looks up at the poster across from the two of you.

“you know. it’s kind of weird. when i was making this show, i could tell that it was really important. in my head, i always knew that it was going to do well because it was special, because megumi and i were making something that i’d never even felt with another person before. but a part of me always put that away, because i was scared i was being arrogant.”

you shake your head.

“i feel that way when i write music sometimes. especially when lyrics are particularly scathing or…or personal. it’s almost like i know that it’s going to reach people because it’s something that really happened to me. but then i try to convince myself that i’m just saying that and it’s just a song, that it won’t really hit people, because i think i’m making it up sometimes.”

you pause.

“what i’m trying to say, probably in a really long winded way that definitely didn’t come across the way i intended, is that you’re not alone when you feel that. but you also should know that your performance was really good. i thought it was very touching.”

yuuji smiles, almost faltering in his eyes a little bit, before he turns to you. you note that he seems particularly reserved, almost flighty from the way he’s twitching in his seat, as you scoot closer to him on the bench.

“you know. my brother said that if i wanted to, i could ask you anything. and that you were so nice that you’d probably indulge and make me feel better.”

you smile.

“i’m flattered that he thinks i’m so nice. and he is right, you know. is there something i could help you with?” you ask.

yuuji swallows hard.

“do you love megumi?” he asks.

“what?”

“like love love him? because he mentioned to me in passing one time that the two of you used to date and i know that you guys are really close and was wondering if it was some like…weird years long situationship that was going on or something.”

you nod. so that’s why he thought megumi was straight.

“would it kill you if i gave you every little detail?” you ask.

“well…”

“i promise that it will make you feel better.”

“okay.”

you smile, swiveling your chair and scooting closer, to lower your voice, at least to the point where he could still hear you.

“i met megumi when i was in the third grade. and really, i can’t even explain how we became friends.”

“what?”

you shrug.

“i feel like everyone else i know, even with other friends of mine, i’m able to remember exactly when i met them. the exact moment that i realized that they were special or that i really liked them. but i can’t even remember where i met megumi. all i know is that as long as i can remember, he’s always been around. always been in my corner when i needed him.”

yuuji smiles.

“when we reached sixth grade, he asked me to be his girlfriend. and i said yeah, because i figured if anyone was going to be my boyfriend, it had to be him. it seemed almost natural at that point. it was that weird age where people started segregating awkwardly, asking each other to dances and…people already thought we were together to begin with. i didn’t talk to other boys. i didn’t even talk to other people. if i was going to entertain the thought of someone, they only person i could even tolerate long enough was megumi. so it was going to be him.”

“there was a day after school where we were both waiting for our parents. both of our dads were kind of fickle in that way, never really came on time to pick us up, amongst other things. and he just asked me if i wanted to kiss him. and i did. and he bursted out into tears after the fact.”

“what?”

you look back over your shoulder, where he’s slung across satoru’s shoulder and giving him a disgusted glare, before you turn back and smile.

“loud tears. like…snot filled tears. for a split second, i thought i bit him or something and just did it wrong.”

“but?”

you grin.

“but he told me that i was his favorite person in the world. that there was one that he liked as much as me. and that if he kissed me and felt nothing, he wasn’t going to ever feel anything when he kissed a girl.”

you can see the relief in yuuji’s face, that it’s almost instantaneous in the way that he smiles and the relaxation spreading in his shoulders. you reach forward, wrapping your hands around his wrist and squeezing once.

“what did you say after that?” he asked.

“i told him that it wasn’t a big deal that he didn’t like kissing girls. that i didn’t even really think i wanted to kiss anyone when i grew up. i was pretty morbid at that time, sixth grade and all, so we both just went about it. nothing really changed after the fact.” you respond.

yuuji smiles, before awkwardly wincing.

“i’m sorry for asking. that’s actually kind of embarrassing, but i couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. and it makes more sense because…well, megumi told me about his dad. about how you were the only family that he had and that no one would compare to you.”

you smile.

“it’s less of a romantic thing than you think. there was a time where we both lived in a studio apartment, by ourselves, and barely made ends meet.”

yuuji nods.

“he told me about that. the thing with his dad. and with your…”

yuuji almost pauses. he catches himself before confessing what it is that he knows about you – what you’re assuming is the secret that he was asked to keep.

“you know, your brother is right. if you ever want to ask me something, you can just ask.”

yuuji smiles.

“i don’t want to impose. you’re very special to megumi and he’s very special to me, so..i’d do whatever i can. if you ever need my help with anything. maybe you guys could let me in on your little family thing too. for you i mean. i’m kind of great at that type of thing.”

you reach forward and put your hand in his.

“i’ll take you up on that offer one day, okay?”

you clear your throat.

“did sukuna have fun?” you ask.

��has he not been around? i’m sure he feels horrible, but his agent is really a stickler about networking at stuff like this.”

you shake your head.

“i don’t mind. i fully understand, i was just wondering. in general, if he had a good time at his first premiere.”

yuuji smiles.

“this is a really big deal to him.” he murmurs.

“i can imagine. biggest premiere of your career, especially considering your background and all.”

yuuji and sukuna – and even their brother and sister-in-law – were one of a kind that way. actors who had no previous background, no connections, to rely on when they made their way through.

“yeah. and it’s all because of sukuna too, mind you.”

you feel an insistent tapping on your shoulder, only to find jake standing at your side, eyes wide and frantic. you can’t help but immediately grimace, taking a split second to shoot yuuji a glare, who understands almost instantaneously.

“i would get up and leave if i were you.” he murmurs.

you glare at him.

“and why would i leave?” you ask.

“aimee had a lot to drink. and we were arguing a lot, about some stuff. and now she’s like thirty seconds away from reaching the counter to scream at you probably.” he whispers.

“and what could i do to be so deserving of a screaming match?” you ask.

jake frowns.

“maybe i said some stuff. made some comparisons, but that’s besides the point.” he states.

you look past his shoulder, nearly bumping your head into yuuji’s to find that jake’s not lying in the slightest, and slowly but surely, aimee is side stepping her way towards where you’re standing.

that was one of the scariest things about her. that drinking alcohol didn’t seem to do what it did to everyone else – she didn’t excessively laugh or overshare or tell people they were beautiful in a dirty bathroom.

she took it as an opportunity to be ruthlessly mean. say what was really on her mind.

you turn to yuuji, shooting him an awkward smile, before leaning closer.

“could you grab megumi? or his car keys? i think it might be time for me to go and i came in his car.” you murmur.

“i’ll bring him back later, don’t worry about it.” he state.

yuuji’s quick to run off, almost embarrassingly fast, as you turn back to jake, and narrow your eyes at him.

“what are you still doing here?” you mutter.

“i don’t know. trying to make sure you leave before she gets over here.”

“don’t worry. i don’t need your empty concern for me. especially, when you’re the one who put me in this situation.”

“oh, don’t be like that. things…things escalated really fast. and not in the way that i wanted and you should know that…”

“i didn’t even realize that you were still friends with her. that you even talked let alone…did god knows what when we were together.”

“it jus happened.”

you roll your eyes at him, making every effort to push past him towards the door. but it’s right at that minute that aimee reaches the chair where you’re sitting, and you swallow hard to brace yourself for whatever it is that she’s going to say.

“y/n.”

“i’d watch what i was going to say if i were you. you’ve had a lot to drink.” sukuna states, the tone in his voice is so firm that it nearly makes you shudder.

a demeanor that you have yet to see. possibly another secret.

“sukuna.”

“don’t worry. we’re leaving.” he states, reaching for the coat that’s slung behind the back of your chair and tucking it into his arm.

“i’m so glad that you’re here for this. i was actually just going to tell y/n here that the two of you are perfect for each other.” aimee states.

“is that right?” you ask.

you step back as she moves closer, noting that sukuna’s hand is hovering behind you, on the lower part of your back. almost precautionary.

“your piece of shit junkie dad is the reason you won’t give in to anyone for real. you couldn’t win in a relationship even if you tried.”

you swallow hard.

“what the hell did you just say to me?”

“i said that your junkie dad is going to follow you around until the day you die. hell, i bet even to this day, you’re still going home once in a while and digging him out of the hole that he put himself in. standing right there with him. stuck in the fact that that’s where you came from. where you’ll always be from. every single shitty lie that you tell and every person that you cross should be a reminder – there’s no difference between you and him.”

sukuna looks down at you, eyes almost wide, before she looks over at him.

“and you. you won’t ever be enough for her. but you know that already don’t you? you’re a chronic flight risk – because deep down, you know there’s nothing about you that’s even likeable in the first place. couple that with the fact that your heart is quite literally nonfunctional, well.”

she takes a deep breath in.

“you’re a match made in heaven.” she finishes.

you’re the one who lunges first.

you don’t remember the rest of the conversation. only the fact that sukuna dragged you out of there, that you were sitting in his car with freezing cold air blowing in your face, and his hand was intertwined in yours on your lap.

you look down, the words echoing in your head – every single one of them – as you note the calloused skin on his knuckles. a burn over the middle and ring knuckle. you run your finger over it, earning you a hiss from sukuna as you turn over to apologize.

“oh, i’m sorry.” you murmur.

“not your fault. i was trying to take the coffee out too fast the other day. skin’s still sensitive.”

you nod. the two of you return to the silence, the pale glow of the streetlights reflecting across both of your faces, basking the entire car in an almost dim red. you place your other hand on his, cradling the free hand that he offered you in both of yours, and look down.

“i hate to interrupt whatever it is that’s running through your mind, but do you want me to take you to yours? or are you okay being at mine?”

you shake your head.

“mine. please.”

sukuna smiles.

“you don’t have to beg, you know?”

you scoff.

“how was that begging?”

“please.” he mimics, the tone in his voice so shrill that it almost makes you laugh.

“i don’t even sound like that.”

“well, to me, you do. you’ll just have to point me in the right direction to yours okay.”

you nod, sinking down into the chair, as you look ahead at the empty streets. there’s no one even parked on the sides, the pale moonlight reflecting against the windows of the building as you ride in silence.

sukuna’s driving slow. what you’re assuming is uncharacteristically slow, because it feels like he spares every free second that he has to look over at where you’re sitting, like he’s almost trying to figure out what to do next.

“do you want to stay when we get to my house?” you ask.

“stay where?” he asks.

you shrug.

“with me?” you ask.

“oh. i can stay. i’d love to stay.” he corrects.

“don’t get too excited now.” you state.

sukuna has a whisper of a smile on his face.

“i can stay. i just…i have something i have to do tomorrow, if i can do it at your place.”

“what’s that?”

sukuna clears his throat.

“i need to redye my hair before i go to the awards show on sunday. the pink is sort of fading into white at this point, which is what i wanted for the premiere, but now i need to refresh it. maybe you can help me.”

you give him a quiet nod. and wonder if you’ll regret letting him stay in the morning.

next part linked here

an: everyone thank user @/paperphytes for commenting on dream girl three times over the span of like four months and asking me to update. third time was a charm apparently. anyways next chapter is called juno HEHEHEH

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytuckyy @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga @skunabby @meisque @hoseokslefteyebrow @thepurpleempath @shrimphutao4ever @monic19 @najaemism @haitanibros0007 @catobsessedlady @luvs4kim @ri-sa20 @thejujvtsupost @invisible-mori @satoruslipbalm @kyo-kyo1 @telepathicheartss @huhsthccvjh @sxnkuna @w31rdg1rl @lilalia3945 @multiplefandomthings @shotovhs @voids-universe @timetobegone @deeeeexx @livelovelaughisagiyochi @pelicanpizza @cowgirlikets @jeon-blue @phantomasmaniac @yoontaedotin @cowgirlikets @estrella-novella @theauthorunicorn @catastayy @ryumurin @kindadolly @th0tformikasa @r0ckst4rjk @you-always-made-me-blush

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ancha-aus · 2 months ago

Text

Ghosts & Medium Drabble - Kill or be Killed

What is this? I am working on one of my own AUs?

It isn't tha unheard of hihi.

Back to my favourite Medium and his harem of ghosts and One Fallen Angel :D

I am sure Dust won't get into too many problems.

*--------------*

His breathing is fast. Terrified that she will find him. This was all a mistake. This wasn't suposed to happen!

It was just... She had been their leader! But she had been more interested in gold than in surviving their god! She had wanted to focus on gaining more treasures over finding ways to summon the God of Destruction to them! To help them recreate the world!

Her husband... Their second in comment had offered the idea. To kill her. To refocus all their attention on their main goal to create a new world!

No on expected her to come back.

"There you are..." He feels fear grip his being as he looks up.

She is hauntingly beautiful. She is translucent and grey of colour. She stares coldly at him. Then she gains a smile "Did you think you could run?" she leans closer.

It is so cold. She had grown so much more powerful in just the short two weeks.

She continues to smile down at him from where she floats. Her deathblow, the knife stab right in the heart, still visible as she wears the cloak she wore when alive.

Her smile disappears and her eyes grow cold again "Now. It is time for you to pay. Just like him." She slowly reaches out a hand.

He knows what it does. He saw it happen to their new leader. she grabbed him and drained him of all lifeforce. Leaving on a husk which she made other eat before killing them too. Her cold rage... It used to be consuming. Now? It is calmer. As if it is the only way forwards. Like she doens't truly care.

The hand reaches closer.

He panics "We didn't want to! He... Your late-husband! He fooled us!" he is desperate.

The hand pauses for a moment.

He continues "Someone came by! told him lies! that you no longer wanted to complete our goal!" he is desperate. He wants to escape.

Her face grows harder "Who?"

"I... I..." he feels compelled to tell her. Answer her. Do whatever she wants "It was one of those exorcists!" He finds the lie to tell.

She stares at him.

His mouth feels dry "I... I could try and trick them! To get them to come back! than you can take revenge!"

She looks considered.

He needs to layer up more reasons to let them live "Once that pest is gone!! We can work on our purpose again! Summon the God of Destruction! To create the world in our, no! Your image!"

She hums as she lowers her hand "It would be... nice... the world shaped in my image. To my wishes... To gain all what i deserve... But ruling alone on the top..." her face grows harder.

He rushes to answer her "Your old husband was unable to truly see your genius! Your power! Anyone would be lucky to be by your side!" an idea "Maybe even our god? Once he is summoned he will no doubt see your radience!"

She pauses before smiling brightly "Yes. We will do that... Call everyone together. We have work to do."

Awesome! Now he just needs to find some sucker to take the fall for them and everything is back on track!

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

Dust looks through the forums looking for any intell on the cult for Nightmare's artifact. With the money from the mansion job he doesn't need to worry about rent or groceries for a while.

Nightmare leans entirely too close as he looks over his shoulder "More work?"

Dust huffs as he breaths out some smoke from the sigarette before answering Nightmare's question "No. This is info on that cult."

Nightmare raises a brow "The one you suspect having the artifact i want?"

Dust shrugs "I hope so." he types more when he goes towards the site of the cult. Scrolling through the pages to see if he sees anything that will give him a hint.

He notices a help wanted message on it.

Dust raises a brow as he reads the message...

It is a request for an exorcist to get rit of a powerful spirit.

Dust snorts as he leans on his hand. He switches back to the forum and posts a message. Others quickly react about the cultist being idiots and no one being dumb enough to fall for the obvious trap.

Dust however... is interested.

He had been looking for a way to get into the cult base to search... Maybe he can...

Ash studies the screen himself "The cult really thinks you guys are stupid? Who would willingly go near the cult when the cult has been the reason many of you are out of work or worse even dead?"

Nightmare hums "How so?"

Dust answers as he studies the text the cult posted "The cult is trying to do soemthing. We aren't quite sure but it involves taking the jobs we normally do. To get to the spirits and stuff before we can. It means we are strugglign and take difficult and dangerous jobs. All to just get by. The problem is, it means many of us will try the jobs that are harder and more dangerous as those are all that are left... Even if we know we aren't quite equipt to handle those. Meaning many of us died in those jobs."

Nightmare frowns as he stares at the screen "Which is why you are warning your fellow exorcists?"

Dust nods "Exactly. worse is that they will post fake jobs and... well... many mediums have disappeared." It doesn't take a genius to see what is happening... Dust just doens't understand why.

Nightmare frowns "That is rather... unwelcome." he waves a hand out.

Dust nods as he sends a message to gain more information on the job.

Nightmare looks intriged "Why send them a message?"

Dust waits fro a reply as he smokes his sig "I need a way into their base. May as well try this way." Worst case he just makes abreak for it.

He gets a message back with more details. It is a storage unit downtown of the capital. It is most likely a streng Spectre. Mmh. He isn't a fan of that as those are dangerous but he should be fine.

Dust gets up as he stretches. Cross looks up from where he is doing his own workouts in his body "We going?"

Dust nods as he walks around him to get to his couch and searches it for his bag and anything else to take "We are." Cross nods as he gets up and quickly goes to the bathroom to wash up, they have to shimmy past each other with the small amount of space.

Ngihtmare sits on the table with his legs crossed as he leans back "You really need a bigger place."

Dust raises a brow as he continues to pack "With what money? This place is great as I don't even need to pay rent each month. Just enough to keep the landlord happy." the spidermonster who owns the building is so chill. Just never hurt a spider and pay rent once in a while and the other is happy "The only reason I got time to look for your thing is because i don't need to work 24/7 to pay for rent." even if his place is cheap he doesn't get paid a lot. His work just doesn't pay much and his income is irregular.

Dust tries to convince them to remain back and here as he went to work but they refuse to stay back. They get into the van and set off.

-----------

Dust gets to the warehouse and frowns at it. It feels... strange? It doesn't feel like the area of a normal spectre... He never felt anything like this before. It is... heavy? There is a ringing in his ears.

Ash looks uncomfortable himself "It feels like we are being hunted... Dust maybe this isn't a good idea. We should go."

Nightmare looks curiously at the building himself "There... is a lot of fear around the building. but the building itself is mostly empty... there is one large source however... an echo." he looks amused "Your spirit is in there alright."

Ash shoots him the stink eye as he crosses his arms and mutters about him having been able to do that.

Dust frowns as he gets out of the van. Only for all the spirits and Cross and Nightmare to follow him out. Dust studies the building wiht a frown.

If it isn't a spectre... will the things he prepared and brought along even work? Woudl it even be useful? A wraith needs different items and stuff. That is why it is important to know which spirit you are dealing with!

Dust looks at Ash "It doesn't feel like a spectre." Ash looks worried himself.

"I know... but i don't... I don't know what it does feel like..." Ash looks deeply bothered.

Dust returns to his van and searches his things. He isn't sure what he will need. He will just prepare for both a Poltergeist, Spectre and Wraith. Just to make sure he is covered. phantoms and shades are weak and he doens't need specific for those to deal with them.

This is not a weak spirit... it sets his instincts on edge.

Killer frowns from where he is floating near him "Lets just go home! These people don't deserve help anyway!" he grins and bats his eyelashes.. or well he would if he had those.

Dust shoots him a blank look "Chances to get into the cult are hard to find."

Killer pouts and shoots aglare at Nightmare "Well!! Maybe a certain someone can actually just tell us where it is!"

Nightmare looks amused "Oh it is alright. We can just not go near the spirit as we search."

Dust nods as he starts walking towards the building. Horror looks at him worried "Are you sure this is okay?"

Dust frowns as he shakes his head "I am not..." Horror looks worried "But it will have to be."

Horror continues to look worried at him "Just run if things get hard... none of us want to see you hurt..."

It is gentle and Dust can't help but smile a little "Thanks..." He continues walking. Cross by his side looking anxious as Nightmare just looks around curiously.

They find a man in a dark cloak. Black in colour with red, blue and yellow lines and patterns. There is probably somekind of system or meaning behind it but Dust would need more time to study it to figure soemthing out.

THe man, wearing a hood and Dust can't se his face. dust is annoyed for a moment before remembering he does the exact same with his own hood... so that is how it feels for others.

They stare at one another. The man coughs "Euh... you are the person who send us a message?"

Dust nods "Yes." he didn't send them his name. Best not to give the cult his name or direct email adress. Just because he is willingly walking into a trap now doesn't mean he wants it to happen more often.

The cloaked person nods "Okay... well... the spirit is in the building. She is smart and fast... near the very center."

Dust frowns. That is oddly specific. Why isn't the spirit trying to leave. mmh. "anchor?"

the person just stares at him "What?"

Dust makes it a bit clearer "What and where is the anchor?"

The person stares "Oh... euh... I don't think she has one?"

That implies it is a spirit whoes anchor are her own emotions. So maybe it is a Wraith or a Spectre after all?

Dust nods as he glances at the building "Specific target?"

The person shakes their head "Not since she killed her husband."

Oh that is some divorce bullshit. Who knew that also happened in the cult.

Dust nods as he goes towards the building "I will take a look." Cross nad Ngihtamre follow him.

The person yells out "Wait!"

Their group pauses and stares back. The person looks nervous "I... euh... i believe... it is best to only go in alone?"

Cross immediantly glares as he stands closer to him. looking guarded. Nightmare looks amsued as he crosses his arms.

The person stutters "It is just! Safer! You are less likely to be noticed!"

Dust tilts his skull "Will be noticed anyway." he turns abck to the building and walks inside, Nightmare nad Cross nearby.

They don't go towards the center. they immediantlly start looking for the storage rooms. They need to find the artifact. Then Nightmare will be repaid!

They search but can't find any trace. Curious. There are still things all around the buidlign but nothing really worthwhile. Strange.

Killer huffs "For a cult they only got junk. Hey H! Was that the same in yours?"

Horror is frowning himself "... They moved the valuables." he looks abck at Dust "They had time."

Dust nods as he rubs his arms to try and warm himself up. Fuck it is cold in this place.

Killer frowns as he floats abit further away to study some stuff.

A cold shiver going up his spine is the only warning he gets before a hand grabs his leg and pulls him through the floor. He hears the others yell his name but he is seperated from them in seconds.

He hits the floor hard and groans as his everything feels wrong after being intangible for a moment.

"Well if it isn't the little rat. You thought you could use other mortals to hide yourself from me?"

The voice is even colder than the freezing room. He groans as he looks over and freezes.

Shit...

The spirit, the BANSHEE stares down at him. unfeeling and uncaring. Unamused "You thoguth that by tricking them into killing me you could be safe? That we would not exterminate your filthy kind and call our god to join us!"

Dust feels his throat close more and more "Euh... I am not sure what you mean? I didn't trick..."

The spirit glares "you dare lie to me!! They told me already! that you came by and lied to my husband! Made him doubt be and my rule!! You will now pay for this!" and she screams.

Dust uses his magic to activate his shielding charm. he still gets thrown through the wall. Landing still hurts as as his shield shatters. The charm gains a crack.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Dust doesn't wait as he pushes himself upright and start running. He eneds to get out. Needs to leave this building-

He needs to find the others!! They need to get out! They aren't strong enough and the banshee can steal their life force!

The hand on his leg had pulled on his own magic. Dust is just fucking lucky he is used to spirits trying to steal his lifeforce and has build up a natural resistance to it.

Another loud scream and Dust groans as his skull hurts. Another wall gets shattered not far behind him.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN?! I WILL FIND YOU AND END YOU!"

People saying that banshees don't feel affected by mortals are fucking liars!! She sounds very affected!

He turns another corner and he wants to cry in relieve. Stairs! Going up! He rushes upstairs quickly. He gets one floor up when she appears on the stairs going further up. Dust dashes through the door unto the other floor. She screams again and the whole floor shifts slightly as new cracks appear. He needs to dive into another pathway that he hadn't wanted to use originally.

More screaming as the cold air follows him. He finds another dead end. He has to break or run into a wall as he stands there panting. He turns around and sees her grownign near.

Oh this is going to suck.

He takes a deep breath as he activates his half broken charm. It just needs to survive one hit. She gets ready to scream and Dust starts running again. This time straight at her and jumps through her.

He for a moment feels her pain, both the old physical one and the mental one. It hurts but he is out and through in just a moment. the charm snaps as it just barely managed to protect him form the freezing energy. It is still very cold as he forces his hurting limbs to move.

He gets back to the staircase and rushes upstairs. It hurts to move his bdoy and by the end he manages to get upstairs but everything hurts. He almost trips over his own feet but hands catch him.

Cross looks worried at him "Dust! Are you okay? Shit you are freezign?!" he lifts him up and puts his own large white jacket around his shoudlers.

Dust shivers "Ban... Ban...Banshee... Needs... We need to..." he shivers... it is so cold.

Ngihtmare frowns as he glances down "A banshee is very dangerous... We need to leave..."

The other spirits look confused while Ash looks horrified and terrified "Oh no..."

A loud giggle "Hiding again?" she floats slowly up through the floor and the cold gets so much worse. even Cross starts to shiver and he isn't even sensitive to ghost auras.

She opens her mouth but Killer growls "You bitch!! Get the fuck away from my Dusty!!" he glares. his eyes black and the goop starts to drip faster and faster.

The banshee stares and laughs "Such hubris. You think you lowly spirit are able to withstand me? Bow." she glares at Killer.

Killer just floats right before him. Unmoving and glaring.

Dust shudders "le-leave..."

Ash nods "We need to go. Banshees are known to steal life force to grow stronger. Specifically spirit lifeforce!"

She looks amused as she nears them.

Then Killer is on her. His sockets are black and the goop drip is worse than even before it covers his full lower face and keeps flowing. The banshee screams but Killer ust holds on tighter to her. Not moved from his position as he keeps clawing at her.

She tries to use her magic. To either freeze him? To stela his life force?

She grabs the red target.

But... her magic doens't take affect.

A new emotions on her face.

Fear.

She stammers "You... you are..."

Killer laughs manically as he holds up a hand. a knife materialises in his hand. He grins widely as he shows off the glowing red blade "Now... Stay. Still." and he stabs downwards.

She screams but then she goes still. She starts to shake and shimmer and...

Killer's mouth just rips open as he bites down. The banshee grows weaker and weaker and before he knows it... she is gone. Nothing left of her.

Killer's red target flashes grey and blue for a moment before it regains the red colour. the red looks brighter and stronger than before.

Killer stares at where she was. He sockets still blank and no emotion on his face.

Then he turns and stares at them for a moment. There is nothing there.

Killer then stares at him and gasps "Dusty!!" and he rushes over. Killer obviously want sto hold him but can't as he pouts at Cross "Cross!! Let me hold him!"

Cross stammers as he searches for his voice "I... i euh... I still got dips?"

Killer pouts but nods "Fine... but you better carry him out!" he hovers nearby as he mentions how Dust needs to be careful! and no more cult stuff! it is too dangerous!!

Dust is in shcok.

killer jsut fought a banshee. It wasn't even a fight. Killer was uncontested...

How many fihgts had he won before Dust even met him?

How strong is Killer?

And why... why is his soul pulsing faster? Why did he feel warm when he saw Killer fight?

Nightmare himself is even shooting him a curious look as he looks between him and Killer.

Cross nods as he puts an arm around his shoulder and one by his legs and he is suddenly carried?!

It is as if he weights nothing?!

He feels embarrassed but also... something else?! it kinda feels like embarrassed but slightly different...

What is wrong with him?

#utmv #dust sans #killer sans #nightmare sans #cross sans #horror sans #I guess this also could be seen as a bit of a Killer birthday thing.#As it do be his birthday #or so i have heard #and this has a bit of Killer focus lmao #Ghosts and Medium au #Ghosts & medium au #Dust is also learning about himself.#He found killer VERY attractive and hot #but he never FELT those things before and is confused!

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gottawritesomething · 1 year ago

Text

Inspirational

Gale dreaming about Tav for the first time. A smidge bit smutty.

MDNI

_______________________________________

Gale had dreamt of Mystra every single night since his exile had begun. By now the dreams were so familiar to him he could have recreated them from memory. There was some variation, but they'd always followed a consistent pattern. His pleading finally answered. She'd reach a hand out in forgiveness or understanding or simply because she could not bear being parted from him any longer. He was given a chance to explain himself and was met with gracious love in kind.

So naturally, as Gale had laid his head down after a long day of besting goblins and redcaps, he'd been prepared for an all too familiar scene. Initially, it had been. He was back in his lonely tower, his knees pressed to the ground in reverence. Awaiting her arrival. But something about this dream felt different, like the feeling of a shifting wind. An irregularity caught his notice, an oddity from that which he knew so well. The door to his room was cracked open slightly when it had always been closed.

He rose, breaking from the expected flow of events. Curiosity driving him more than the comfort of the known.

He pressed the door open and stepped over the threshold into a darkened forest clearing. The night was bright and clear, tall grass swaying in a soothing rhythm as a warm wind ran through his hair. From across the field, he heard a familiar giggle. His heart gave an involuntarily jump, anxiety, excitement, and curiosity all swirling tumultuously within him. He slowly made his way across the field.

The shape of a four-poster bed loomed out of the darkness. There nestled between the silken sheets lay, Tav. She was barely clothed, her robes discarded nearby, her hair splayed across her pillow. She was breathing hard, almost a pant, her face flushed and eyes alight.

Gale averted his eyes from her form, feeling suddenly like he'd walked into a moment not meant for him, rather than one his mind had conjured. However, he could not suppress the urge to look as he heard Tav gasp. A lustful, satisfied gasp of two lovers deeply entangled in each other, a hunger being met and satiated. He allowed his eyes to rest on her face once again. Now, a figure obscured much of her body, poised over her as she pulled them closer. She caressed their head and shoulders as she shuddered with their effort, lost in their rolling motion. Her eyes closed, and her head tilted back in ecstasy, another moaned gasp escaping her lips. Their hands were now interlocked, leveraging herself to press back against them.

The bed became bathed in a soft glow. Tav turned to look to the edge of the bed where he stood, meeting his eyes. His duplicate suffered no such distraction, continuing to pull her onto him with an unspeakable desperation. Her eyes were heavy with desire as his double's hands roamed her skin, her body responding to his every touch. Gale remained locked in her gaze, watching, as his name escaped her mouth. Wrapped in all the love, forgiveness, and desire he'd imagined in his dreams of Mystra. A prayer said in his name. The glow of purple on the bed became brighter, reflecting in her eyes. He quickly realized he was the source, the light pulsing with his quickened heartbeat. With one last look of longing at the two entangled lovers, he awoke, the orb glowing harshly in the darkness of his tent.

Gale felt something stir in him. He pressed a hand to his chest to calm his rising heartbeat. Tav took the figure's face in her hands and pulled them to her with urgency. With a desperate need. Like they were the very air she required to continue to draw breath. As he watched her thread her fingers through the figure's hair, he recognized a familiar mane. Brown with grey streaking through it. He stepped closer, fascinated as Tav's expression mirrored one he'd known well. She looked into his double's face like she was worshipping, like to kiss him was a religious rite, to look upon him was a revelation deserving of psalms. His hair had been made a mess by the exertion, his body glinted with a sheen of sweat. It dripped messily from the stray hairs that dangled in front of his eyes, which bordered on feral as they fixed hungrily upon her.

He'd certainly not expected such a deviation, though it had been quite stimulating, possibly too much so... He stared contemplatively at the ceiling, puzzling out what this all meant. Perhaps, to be certain, it required additional data...he reasoned. He closed his eyes and willed sleep to take him again.

#baldur's gate fanfiction #gale dekarios #gale x tav #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #baldurs gate gale #fanfic #smut #fanfiction

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zin-fan-del · 8 months ago

Text

Holdin' Out for a Hero

~5.000 word story featuring gay lizards and blueberry inflation. Also available for reading here on my main website!

"I've been holding out on this until I found someone like you." Windsor's words filled the quiet, dimly-rit room so suddenly it made the scales on Mehji's back momentarily crawl. Beneath the idyll autumn sceneries at the ranch house, he had been led to a room packed with machinery and chemical equipment. The crisp air and warm-hued leaves gave way to a well-camouflaged den of metallic greens and blues.

"Don't say cryptic things," the perturbed lizard just over half his height rebuked, keeping up pace behind his tour guide. His hands dug deep into the pockets of his sweatpants, despite the warmth radiating from the machines all over. As they walked, Mehji snuck several glances away from the curiosities all around to try and read Windsor's face. All he could make out was a confident, smug grin.

"So," the pale dragon's march stopped as the two approached an unusual display glowing with minty green light, "this is my magnum opus." He turned on a heel to face his guest, wearing the same baffling smirk… Next to this stellar contraption, though, a sparkle danced in his eyes.

Mehji's gaze broke with Windsor as he sized up the machine. Inside, like a sample floating in an enormous test tube, a full-body jumpsuit, boots, gloves and a mask were suspended. Looking at it, even up close, it was difficult to tell whether they were actually submerged in liquid or resin. The glass container appeared ethereal, draped in fluorescent viridian shining from lamps below. The tube was embedded in a steel base platform decorated by flickering control panel buttons.

The torso of the bodysuit was decorated with interweaving stripes that diverge and trace the outer arms and legs. A slim black belt featuring an elliptical metal buckle outlined in studs divided it in half vertically. The gloves and boots had cuffs shaped into wide spikes splayed outward. The lurid crimson fabric patterned with bold gray details appeared well-made, albeit strangely large and baggy.

"Is… is this your Halloween costume?" Mehji surmised, scratching the back of his head and forcing a smile. "It's, uh, cool. Which superhero was this again?"

Reacting to the lukewarm response, Windsor's face dropped into a disappointed frown. Unsure what he could have said wrong, Mehji chuckled nervously.

"This is not some measly costume. This… is Wrath." As the white dragon spoke of his creation, he turned to cast a prideful gaze thereupon, a smile creeping back onto his face.

"Isn't that one of those cardinal sins, mister…?" Mehji prodded jokingly. But Windsor simply sighed and faced him, speaking up with a serious tone.

"Mehji, do you remember the day we met?" Windsor's serious, seemingly off-the-cuff question was startling, though easily answered.

"Of course, though I barely believe it. We rolled people the size of zeppelins out of a restaurant…" Giving a brief nod, Windsor carried on.

"Aster City has been ravaged by that same incident happening again and again. People all over the place, in small groups, uncontrollably blowing up. It's a rapid growth that turns your body blue and fills you with juice." As he recounted the events of the past weeks, Windsor's eyes closed tight and he tapped between his brows with an index finger.

"The… the blueberries…" Mehji pulled a hand out of his pocket to insinctively carress his stomach, casting his mind back to the situation in question. His face must have contorted slightly as he spoke, because the taller reptilian's smug grin returned. A nervous feeling raging through Mehji spawned beads of sweat on his forehead.

"You were of great help that day. In fact, I don't think I've seen anyone else quite so excited to do heavy lifting." A gentle blush rose to Mehji's cheeks and his eyes forced themselves away.

"I- I just like being a helpful lil' guy, is all," the embarrassed green lizard attempted to clarify. "Was just following your instructions, really…"

"Then you won't mind putting this suit on for me." With a fluid motion, Windsor reached out and pressed a large eject button on the container's control panel. Immediately, the tube's glass walls slid down to the base, flooding the room in glowing seafoam hues. The garments gently fluttered down to the platformbeneath them, landing at Windsor's waist height.

"Right now? You want a superhero strip show?" Mehji jabbed into Windsor's side playfully with an elbow. "Ya gooner."

"W-what?!" Now, it was the alabaster reptile's turn to blush, which he poorly hid by turning his chin up and away. "To make fast-changing possible, it's designed to fit around any kind of dresswear. You don't even need to take your shoes… off…"

His spiel was abruptly interrupted upon reopening his eyes. Mehji's lower half was already stripped down to just boxers, and his arms were raised over his head to remove the white wifebeater formerly obscured by a large jersey. As he casually tossed the shirt into a pile of his other discarded clothes, their eyes locked. This time, it was Mehji's turn to meet a stunned, flushed face with a cocky smirk.

"What? Are you gay?" He teased, flexing his right bicep playfully. Windsor's jaw dropped but his brain had yet to catch upto speed.

"Well, but… It's not like… Y-you just don't have to, um, undress if you don't want to," the words raced each other out of his gaping maw, but Windsor's composure wasn't regained whatsoever.

"Enough yapping, you dork. You wanna see these guns in a tight suit?" Windsor's diamond eyes shot back and forth from the nearly-nude hunk actively teasing him, unable to conjure up words. "I wanna see more of that look on your face."

As he spoke, Mehji took hold of the suit and unfolded it before him. It unfurled all the way out onto the floor, despite being suspended in his hands over his head. Expeditiously, he unzipped the flashy suit from the top down to the tail-hole, and stepped inside with one leg.

"It's huge," he noted aloud while dressing himself. "You couldn't have secretly taken my measurements better?"

"… You'll see how it works," Windsor retorted, cheeks still rosy. Mehji raised a brow, uncertain what that could mean, but continued, trusting the dragon's guidance to be benign. As he slid his arms down the sleeves of the costume, he turned around.

"Help me out," Mehji instructed, gesturing with one hand at the zipper running down his back. Windsor stepped forward and, with a single decisive tug, closed it all the way up to his neck.

"Excellent. A perfect fit!" Windsor exclaimed with glee as Mehji slowly turned around. The suit was, contrarily, extremely loose and tall, despite being sealed quite firmly around his wrists, ankles, the base of his tail and the top of his neck. As he slid on the boots and gloves, Mehji felt the accessories snap into place like magnets. Despite the unflattering fit, there was a remarkable degree of care put into every piece.

"So, this is what you're into…?" Mehji probed, his tone landing between serious and jokingly pejorative. Most of the fabric was exaggeratedly draped around him like a blanket. He waved his arms slightly up and down, expectedly uncomfortable. "I think some, uh, adjustments might be necessary." From behind, Windsor raised the bandana-like mask up to the smaller reptile's eyes, fastening it into a secure knot below the spikes on his head. Despite their stark-white eyecaps, the mask conferred surprisingly unimpeded visibility.

"Quiet, now… Just follow my lead. You know which arm is your right one?"

"I'm not completely helpless, mister." Mehji smirked, and gestured with the according arm.

"Good. Snap your fingers with that hand."

"Like this?"

Upon triggering the click between his index finger and thumb, a small but distinct beep from the suit's chest area rang out. Before he could react, with the light sound of a vaccuum sealer, the entire garment restricted against his body.

"Guh--" Mehji gasped, puffing out his chest as he felt the soft fabric grow quickly tense. A sense of surprise stunned his jaw open as he held out both arms, contorting around to survey his body with wide eyes. "Holy… That scared me shitless." But as he continued to twist around, the initial shock gradually settling, an emphatic grin spread onto his face. "Hah… haha! Wow. How the fuck did you pull this off?"

The garment was fitted, in the blink of an eye, to perfection. Every curve of his body appeared sculpted beneath the unbelievably smooth fabric. With awe illuminating his visage, the green lizard was stunned into staring at himself in the reflection of a tall machine. This comfort level in such a tight garment was unthinkable to him. It would take hours of meticulous stitching to achieve anything similar.

"You look incredible." Windsor spoke up after letting his newly-dressed partner look himself over. He walked up behind the distracted man and planted both hands on his shoulders. Mehji, who had been on-edge just moments before, didn't react at all. "What you're looking at… What you're wearing… is how I'll fix the blueberries. This is Wrath."

"Your answer is to become a superhero?" Mehji curied, still transfixed on his own reflection. "I thought they caught the guy behind the breakouts already."

"Not quite." Windsor's hands began to explore his guest's figure. "I'm no hero. All I have is this flashy suit…" His palms follow the lines down Mehji's arms before gripping the sides of his chest and sliding down to his waist. "The blueberries just keep popping up, no matter how many culprits get arrested." His words kept Mehji from melting into the gentle massage. "You might now know, but some even remain afflicted long-term, expanding repeatedly…"

Mehji's body, mostly cool beneath the breathable bodysuit, couldn't resist warming up with big hands prodding at it. With an audible gulp, he stared into Windsor's calm eyes and spoke, "I thought permaberries were mythical."

"On the contrary, there are many. And twenty-ton life isn't easy in the city. You just don't fit in anywhere." Winsdor lifted his hands away from Mehji's hips and turned on a heel to take a few steps away. Windsor grew unxpectedly quiet as his brow shaded his downturned eyes. An indiscernable but painful emotion rose with him, expressed clearly through his self-assured facade.

"What're you going to do then? Find out whodunnit? Or run around, juicing everyone in your path?" Mehji brainstormed lightheartedly but his lanky suitor's demeanor refused to lighten.

"Nah." Click. Turning to face Windsor, Mehji heard the distinctive click priming the raygun pointed in his face, which began glowing with electric vigor. "I'm gonna make the problem so bad someone else solves it." Shivers rocketed up Mehji's spine and a sweat drop fell from his chin. "How about it? Just one beam and you'll get your dream body. It's like magic." Windsor responded, staring down his quaking partner deviously.

"W… wait…" the man sizing up a gun pointed his way sputtered. "What…? Dream body? It'll make me ripped if I want?" Mehji couldn't contain his questions, startled by the sudden attack. In his racing mind, the short lizard pictured himself bulging with muscles in the stunning red suit.

"Only if you truly dream of that." Windsor assured as the gun's charging light grew ever vibrant. Mehji groaned quietly, uncertain. Never in his dreams had he imagined himself so rich in brawn. But if this was a chance to quickly grow, he'd kick himself for declining.

So, with a face stiff as steel, he consented concisely.

"Hit me."

A bright ray blinded him as it collided with his midsection, disspating into him as a warm light. Windsor blew on the red-hot tip of the raygun forcefully, breaking up a steam cloud pouring off of it. As his eyes reopened, Mehji looked down to survey his body again, but nothing had visibly changed about it. He patted himself down with gloved hands, unable to sense any dramatic alterations to his figure as Windsor placed the raygun on a nearby counter.

"It didn't work…?" Mehji pumped an arm in the air, flexing it as dramatically as possible. "I haven't gained a pound."

Windsor laughed snidely. "It takes a while so you can really savor the change," He watched the suited-up lizard hastily squeeze at his own muscles, testing for any identifiable growth. "But it looks like it's working just fine to me."

Several questions rose to mind but were beaten to Mehji's lips by a loud belch. He raised a fist to cover it as best as possible, embarrassed. With his other hand, he rubbed at his belly just above his belt. Paying close attention, he could sense bubbles rising in his stomach before they rose sharply in volume. But still, his midsection was no flatter than normal. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"Surely this isn't a gun that just makes you gassy, mister?" Mehji joked. But as he pulled away the hand covering his mouth, he noticed a strange effect creeping its way down his arm. "Wait, huh…?" A deep cornflower color had sneakily appeared around his upper torso. On closer inspection, however, the splotchy effect was spreading like airbrushed paint toward his wrists. He leaned over, watching it race down his front, traveling past his groin and knees down his legs.

As the realization sank in, his breath paused momentarily, then picked back up into a rapid rhythm. As he turned his head back up, the sight of Windsor's euphoric grin made butterflies go wild in his stomach. Blood rushed to his face with such speed enough to nearly knock Mehji out. Embarassed to beet-red, he span around to the mirrored surface from just moments ago…

But the face that greeted him was a deep, rich indigo. In fact, in just seconds, blue hues swallowed his entire body, as though he was dipped in a vat of dye.

"I think I know where this is going," Windsor ominously murmured through a giddy sneer. Mehji's panicked eyes shot back up as his arms dropped to his side. "And that means I chose correctly with you," the taller lizard's tail grew erect as he watched on, struggling to contain elated laughter.

"No way," Inside his mind, Mehji was torn between fear and excitement. But his stomach was churning like an ice-cream machine, kicking up a racket even as he doubled over, pressing into it with both hands. "In my dreams, it doesn't… start this fast…" He was overcome with the sensation of having ravenously eaten past his limit. Through the thin fabric of his suit, he could feel his belly protruding scantly. Between the clamoring of his strained stomach and the soft gut where defined abs just were, the grumbling lizard began bloating up like he went overboard on soda.

The tall dragon released a deep belly-laugh he had kept bottled in for a while. Across the cool tiles he strode, placing a pair of fingers beneath Mehji's chin and lifting it to meet his gaze directly. He spoke warmly as he stroked it gently, ogling his helpless victim's face cloaked in the vivid hues of spirulina. "I'll keep you safe. I promise." Mehji swallowed dramatically as the gurgling from his gut continued, embarrassed to have his upset stomach heard by Windsor. But the white dragon stood close in front of him, their bodies separated by less than an inch. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Urk-!" Mehji, captured in the moment, momentarily forgot what situation he was in. He looked down in disbelief, his jaw slightly unhinged. "It's… really happening!" The juice filling him up spilled over. His belly, once meticulously slim, puffed up into a growing mass approaching the size of a basketball. In and out, the short lizard panted, trying to rationalize his situation. With a single curious hand, he pressed into the dramatically swelling paunch, leaving behind a dark handprint-shaped stain. He moaned as his gut kept duly stretching outward, pursing out over the tight belt cradling it from below.

Windsor pressed his waist into the ballooning lizard's girth, wrapping an explorative arm around his waist. "How's it feel…?" His voice dipped into deep tones as he uttered the question, eyes meticulously soaking in every inch of his subject.

"I can't stop filling up…" Mehji spat out between breaths, his body overtaken by a flurry of senses. "You're going to fucking pop me!" He ballooned so quickly and with such force that a natural sense of alarm rang out. But as Windsor's weight leaned into the sensitive, swollen pillow forming on his front, a rapturous pleasure overtook him. Its forceful growth continued unabated, blocking his view below his own midriff, before juice began to trickle out into the rest of his body.

"You'll be alright," Windsor spoke with a genuine tone that betrayed his devious expression. "Just relax, berry boy. Your fantasies are coming true."

At once, both of his breasts swelled up, spurning another gutteral noise from Mehji. His chest pressed against his chin as it grew, deepening the ecstasy gradually welling up in him. As he stared into Windsor's calm eyes his anxious trembling from before dissolved into a ravishing calm. With a smooth motion, Windsor's fingers cupped around his partner's asscheek, giving it a firm squeeze.

As if choreographed, Mehji's cheeks surged with juice. First, his ass ballooned outward, the pressure of Windsor's squeeze growing as it pressed into it. A rush of delight soared in Mehji, to whom the sensation of a hand on his taut skin felt electric, only intensifying as billows of juice pumping into him.

Moments later, desperate for room, the juice worked its way up past his chest. His lips pursed, pressed together by his face swelling as though with millions of calories at once. Mehji's eyes rolled back uncontrollably, unable to be kept in control as the tide of sweet liquid sqeezed itself inside of him. The emotions ripping through him, spurred on by the pressure of Windsor's sensual grip, overloaded his thoughts.

"Now this is what I'm into…" Windsor grumbled, his face twisted in a nefarious, turned-on smirk. As Mehji ballooned up in his arms, staggering at the sheer heft of his burgeoning frame, he was forced to step back. Gripping the sides of the swollen lizard's waist, he admired his handiwork with delight. With each deep breath, his nostrils were filled with the scent of fresh blueberry. He bit his lower lip to hold in an unhinged moan.

"You gotta help me, man…!" Mehji shouted as his limbs fattened up with ease, forcing him to extend them into a pose like a starfish. The gurgling, creaking bedlam from inside of him overwhelmed his ears as he gushed with fluid. His skintight suit squeezed against his inflating body, stubbornly refusing to break at even a single seam. The dark juice handprints staining his apparel had spread to encompass him entirely. Traces of the saccharine violet fluid were pressed out of Mehji's every pore, stickying the floor with a puddle beneath his feet.

"How am I… supposed to live… as a blueberry?" Words eked out of the stout reptile's mouth between heavy breaths. He waddled about, desperately redistributing his ballooning weight. At first, most of his girth localized around his waist. But the unrelenting pressure mounting within him forced its way outward, rounding his frame out smoothly. Rapidly transforming in such a revealing costume was embarassing, no matter how well it contained his bulging form.

"Well, for starters, I hope you like the flavor." Windsor joked, stepping back again. "But besides that, you don't have to do much of anything. Kick back and go with the flow." Then, with a swift but gentle tackle, he shoved into the massive lizard. With a yelp, Mehji stumbled back before his balance gave out and his gargantuan rear collided with the ground. "Not that you have much of a choice at this point."

Mehji flapped his limbs with all the force he could muster, but they resisted, steadily growing bulkier with each passing second. All he could do was wiggle his hands and feet, reveling in the sensation of being blown up into the spitting image of a blueberry.

His legs had grown so wide that they seemed to melt into the girth of his waist. His feet wriggled, vainly struggling against the force of his round groin gradually swallowing them up. The bubbling juice roared as it surged up his body to fill out his torso similarly, trapping his hands. As he swelled into a near-perfect sphere, losing complete control of his distended body, his suit miraculously stretched to encompass it seamlessly. The growing lizard moaned and groaned, eyes darting around to observe his impossibly huge body progressively expanding. Forced apart by his torso, he helplessly watched his hands disappear over the sides of his own burgeoning figure.

Windsor, with ever-curious hands, felt at the seams of the suit running flush down Mehji's spherical body. Despite showing obvious signs of tension, it remained unbroken, even around the areas that had fattened up the most. The thin belt wrapped snugly around the blueberry's midsection caused his flesh to purse gently around it. Like an artist surveying their own masterpiece, he radiated with joy, staring on at Mehji with a serene smile.

But Mehji continued to inflate. As he fattened beyond his own range of reach, his feet were ungrounded by the swelling fat between them. His body balloned outward, rising up like a nearly-full beach ball being topped off with air. Back and forth his globular body rocked, skin and suit creaking as though reaching their limits. Mehji's limbs stretched as far as they could, but his body swallowed them up as it swelled even wider.

"Mmph! Mmmm…" While being sucked into his swelling body, Mehji's plump cheeks sealed his mouth shut. All he could manage to vocalize were quiet grunts. He could hardly turn his head, let alone see over the rising girth encompassing it. Even his most mobile parts were similarly trapped, leaving his hands and feet incapable of more than gentle wiggling. "Helpff…" Raised up by his round backside, staring at the metallic ceiling, a single weak word rose to his lips.

"You're so ripe, I could just take a big, fat bite…" Windsor walked back up to the blueberry and embraced it again, pressing his face into the smooth, taut surface. "Or bake the world's biggest pie."

Rounding out, Mehji felt his inflation start to ease for the first time. As his creaking frame finally blew past Windsor's height, it rocked around its center point. The blueberry lizard's weight rocketed exponentially as the final traces of juice surged into him in a quick, steady burst. With that, Mehji moaned loudly, his face too swollen to vocalize anything more complex. As the final wave poured into him, slowing his expansion to a trickle, all that could be heard in the dark room was the raucous sloshing of fluid settling inside him.

Mehji was desparate to shout if it would relieve even a tiny fraction of the pressure to which he had been filled. Despite being painless, his turgid body was in an extreme excess of pressure beyond that which any person could reasonably reach. His face was still hot with feverish embarrassment, stressed largely by the immobility that so immediately overtook him.

"In fact, I have many plans for you," Windsor continued. While talking, he shifted his weight down, rolling the taut round balloon toward himself. It took a few tugs to position him correctly, but eventually, Mehji's puffy face appeared over the top of the round mass. The two watched each other intently as Mehji continued rolling, only coming to a halt as his face pointed down to meet Windsor's head-on. "You're the biggest berry I've ever seen, and that's saying something." Just like before, Windsor stuck a single hand beneath Mehji's bloated chin, caressing it with passion-filled eyes.

But this time, he leaned in to plant a kiss on Mehji's lips. The two closed their eyes and the moment froze for just a second before the lanky dragon pulled back.

"Thank you," he murmured, staring the blueberry straight in the eyes. "Now, go ahead and snap again. Right hand."

It took a moment before Mehji processed what he had been told. The sensation of being trapped in his own engorged body was frankly stunning. Moments later, though, he weakly forced his fingers together, accomplishing a single quiet snap. Instinctively, Windsor raised a single arm to cover his eyes and held his breath.

Incomprehensibly speedily, Mehji felt high tension envelop his entire body, pressing inward in all directions. "Holy--!" Before he could make sense of it, the fat distorting his face disappeared, allowing him to emit half of a startled interjection. Like a water balloon being popped, he deflated, a surge of juice spraying out and covering the room in all directions. As though his transformation played out in reverse, he was pressed completely free of juice in just seconds. In fact, it occurred so quickly that his belly was lifted away from the ground, leaving the short lizard momentarily suspended in mid-air.

But such conditions did not last, as he came tumbling down to the ground, landing on what remained of his cushy paunch before it quickly reverted to its original flat shape. As the wave of juice freed from him landed, raining from the ceiling, he clambered to his feet with a hand on his pounding head.

"I… I popped. I thought you said…" Mehji grumbled, patting at his midsection grumpily. At first, his perceived betrayal by Windsor sparked in him a flash of anger. But as he patted himself down top to bottom with both hands, looking over his decidedly normal-looking body, it fizzled out. "What kind of wizardry is this?"

"Hahahaha," Windsor laughed heartily before scooping Mehji up into a bear hug. Oddly, the former was drenched in deep blue juice, while the latter had reverted to his typical coloration. It ere as though it never changed. "It worked! What a success!"

"Whoa, whoa, what do ya mean?!" Mehji, held up by a pair of arms around his midsection, continued to survey his own hands. "How did you get all that out of me so fast?"

"Alright, I'll explain," the tall dragon set Mehji back down on his feet gently. "This was all a test for that suit. It didn't break and the compression mechanism worked flawlessly." Mehji gave a baffled look, so he continued. "It can basically squeeze you back to shape. See, look! That was all in you!"

Windsor spun around with his hands extended wide, smiling more than anyone witnessing so much property damage ever should. There was a thin pool of juice beneath their feet and not a single centimeter of wall space wasn't coated in the substance. Mehji patted his belly, cogs turning in his head, as he examined the damage.

Did any of that even really happen? He thought pensively. Is this… a dream right now?

"Do you… wanna give these suits out to people?" Mehji inquired, trying to imagine what could have motivated such a mystical invention. "That's your plan to solve the blueberry epidemic?"

"No," Windsor replied directly, still surprisingly cheerful. "Like I said, this world isn't built to accomodate for berries to exist." While speaking, he strolled over to the table upon which the raygun from earlier was set. Mehji recoiled instinctively as he picked it up but relaxed upon seeing it resting on its side in his open palms.

"I must admit I lied about this," Windsor gingerly raised the weapon in the air. "This gun just makes blueberries out of everyone it hits. The only thing here that can read your dreams… is me."

Struck at the understanding that he had been deceived, Mehji's mouth fell agape. What he had just experienced was a snowstorm of emotions hardly able to be captured by words.

"My plan? Simply fill the world with blueberries until it changes." Windsor laid out his intentions plainly.

"Are you the one who started all this, then?" Mehji probed with a gravely serious tone, still unmoving from where he originally stood up.

"No," answered Windsor, his eyes fixed upon his partner to convey his words with identical gravity. "I have my suspicions as to who did but am uncertain." For a moment, in the sickly-sweet subterranean study, the two tensely stared each other down. "So, with all that said…" Windsor stepped forward, still suspending the gun in outstretched arms. "I would like to ask you to be my partner in crime."

Mehji could not have predicted what transpired in the past few minutes. As he looked down at the firearm being given to him, he reached up with a single gloved hand to accept it but froze just inches away. With unsteady eyes, he sought for comfort in Windsor's warm, intent smile. Then, returning his focus, he picked it up by the handle, resting a careful finger on the trigger guard.

The weapon entered his grip comfortably, weighing subtantially less than he anticipated. Windsor relaxed his arms at his sides, glowing with pride at the sight of Mehji in his suit.

"I suppose that does sound a little fun," Mehji smirked as he posed with the gun pointed toward the porcelain-white dragon. He held it for a moment before angling his aim to just narrowly miss to the right. "Who know what else you have stashed down here, too?"

For the first time since he began swelling, Mehji soaked in the room in close detail as he lowered his weapon. All around him were workstations, machinery, tools and clothing. The scene was almost fantastical, decorated with active monitors and branding painted across the walls. A rather simplistic emblem in the shape of a W appeared in more places around the laboratory than he originally noticed.

"Well, in that case, welcome to Wrath HQ… rookie." Windsor's frigidly serious demeanor defroze as he offered a playful handshake. With his empty hand, Mehji reached out and accepted it. "So, how's about we get to cleaning u--?!"

Rambling made Windsor visibly inattentive, so Mehji gave him a swift tug on the arm, pulling the two men into a firm embrace. Before his eyes could flutter open, the short lizard delivered a passionate kiss unto the lips of the other. With one of Mehji's arms around his waist, Windsor let himself slide into the liplock.

Suddenly, the room flashed white. A warm sensation disspiated into Windsor from his back. As though unbothered, he pulled away from kissing the man that just shot him with a toothy, satisfied grin.

"Before that…" Mehji looked directly into Windsor's eyes as he tossed away the still-warm raygun. "I wanna see if your dream body is the same as mine…" He gripped behind Windsor's ass firmly on both sides as the two reptiles pressed into each other, exchanging loving, menacing grins. "…And I wonder if juice tastes sweeter when harvested with revenge." Windsor took in a deep breath as he rested his arms on Mehji's broad shoulders. "Don't hold out on me, now…"

But across the happy face he gazed into longingly, a vivid blue had already begun to spread.

#myart #body inflation #male #blueberry inflation #male belly inflation #expansion #male blueberry inflation #body expansion #male inflation #windsor #mehji #writing #stories

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beauty-and-passion · 3 months ago

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TMA - Chapters 141-150: Hungry? Grab a statement

Welcome back, everyone. Are you ready for Jon and Basira’s travel to save the world from The Dark?

I am not, but we’re already there, so let’s start.

<< Main Masterlist <- Previous post

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MAG 141 - Doomed Voyage

Luckily for Jon, the title didn’t refer to his voyage to save the world, but to the last voyage of Mikele Salesa. And, well, I felt a bit sad for him: he was tired of this job, he wanted to get out of the business of delivering supernatural stuff.

But then there was this… camera with a broken lens? And something/someone betrayed him and his crew and he died? I’m sure we will find out what happened in future statements.

Jon got all these info, because he Knew the guy on the ship worked with Salesa in the past and wanted to Know from him. And Basira, apparently, wants to Know too! Is she getting influenced by The Eye as well? I wouldn’t be surprised: she’s in the temple of The Eye and works closely to its avatars.

Wait… WHAT?!

Are you telling me that all the people who told Jon their stories kept reliving said story in their dreams and seeing Jon? And you tell me that now in season 4?!

Sheeesh, off to a great start.

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MAG 142 - Scrutiny

A woman is getting harassed by someone in the Institute. And Martin immediately has an idea about who could be:

Wonderful, so now Jon goes around doing creepy avatar things, not disturbing and worrying at all.

But hey, that’s another excuse for me to point out the details of another avatar’s business plan:

Searching around someone with a supernatural story

Creepily staring at them until they speak

Collect their story

Thank them because you might be the servant of a horror god, but politeness is still a must

Profit!

Congrats Jon, you’re officially part of the gang of avatars who make questionable business plans. Please, take a sit along The Web, master of questionable business plans.

This statement also confirms Basira’s words regarding Jon appearing in other people’s dreams. And that after talking about them, people are still haunted by the horrors they came in contact with.

We also get the wonderfully-not creepy-at-all image of a Jon who is “all eyes”. It screams “Watcher’s Crown” so. Much.

And it also explains some fanarts I saw years ago, of a guy covered in eyes.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

I KNOW, MARTIN. I KNOW.

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MAG 143 - Heart of Darkness

I love that the tape recorder is a character. It’s always there (whether the other characters like it or not) and it knows when shit is about to go down, thus efficiently warning them. It’s a good guy… uhm… I mean, a good tape?

Thank god, Manuela Dominguez FINALLY gives us a clarification of what the heck happened with The Dark:

They were this close to completing their ritual. And it had some elements we already saw, like the human sacrifices, the feast and the chanting.

Manuela’s description of the world given by the Dark Sun is very fascinating: “A world of still and quiet darkness, where no heat touches and death cannot find you. You might wander beneath that empty sky of void forever and never see a light to guide your way.”. That’s such an interesting image! And it answers a doubt I had that, even in darkness, death can still find you. Apparently not: if a ritual is complete, I suppose the other Powers cannot interfere anymore? Is that why they never worked together?

Robert Montauk was tormented by The Dark cult. This explains the missing wife and it kinda explains the weird hearts-in-the-shed ritual thingy. It was bizarre, but at least it helped in keeping out the darkness.

Gertrude stopped the ritual, somehow. And not just by killing the people from Hither Green.

Speaking of that, that’s the second time Gertrude did something that “robbed” other Powers’ servants of something. The Desolation’s gang also lost something, when Gertrude went on Hill Top Road.

I mean, I know her plan is “throw shit in the ritual to stop it”, but maybe… who knows, maybe she also took something? Or made something incredibly specific? In both cases:

The avatar didn’t get any chance to do the ritual

The other servants started to argue and the group split

Could this be part of the dividi et impera strategy I theorized some posts ago? Not just to put Powers against each other, but servants too?

Also, we FINALLY get the confirmation regarding Maxwell Rayner: he’s dead. Now we can be sure he’s dead, he won’t pop out anymore, he’s dead dead. Thank god, this man was starting to become Schrödinger’s avatar: dead and not dead at the same time.

Okay, the Black Sun is still there. And looking at you can destroy you.

So, what’s Jon’s brilliant plan? To look at it.

I know, you expect me to say this is a stupid plan… but it actually makes sense. As I said in the previous post, The Eye’s power is to look at things, know and (metaphorically) shed light on them. And what happens when you shed light on something dark?

So yes, Jon’s plan was good and it worked great. He looked at it, he Knew it and destroyed it.

I also find it very relatable that, once Jon looked at this cosmic horrible thing, he found it beautiful.

Think about it: the universe is immensely dark and cold and it can kill us instantly and yet, we find it beautiful. The abyss of the sea is just as deadly and we can’t fight with the huge marine predators and yet, we still find the sea beautiful. The radiation is terrifying and can lead to a very painful death and yet, we are fascinated by it. Even goddamn black holes are one of the most terrifying things ever and we still consider them immensely beautiful.

That’s human’s nature: we are mesmerized by the danger and by things that has the potential to kill us, but still, we find beauty in them.

Helen is back! And she helped again! Helen, you’re officially a Good Gurl. Michael was a Good Boyo, you are a Good Gurl. I know you’re still part of the same sexless entity, but you need an affectionate nickname, so Good Gurl it is.

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MAG 144 - Decrypted

A statement about number stations. From a guy who lives in the middle of nowhere, during a hot August - you know, that kind of hot that pushes everything down and drowns all sounds out.

I know this feeling, I pictured the statement too well in my mind… and yes, I immediately realized it was all about The Extinction.

Maybe it’s a bit too early, but I am incredibly fascinated by it. The setting of this statement was so simple and so effective, mostly made of heat, sun, long walks, music in the ears. And then, these ominous numbers, the pylon’s rusted corpse, that sense of dread. The rain, the destruction of the house and the annihilation of its inhabitants.

The characters are just a guy with a very old father. There’s nothing transcendental about them, just a guy dealing with an elderly person. It’s down to earth, it’s relatable. And it makes The Extinction stand out even more.

I really like this statement for the feelings, the sensations and the vivid images. There have been only a few statements that stuck with me in the past and I’ll gladly add this one to the list of my personal favourites.

So, right after making me happy with this statement, Mr. Sims decides to make me even more happy, with some bonding time between Martin and Peter:

The shade, Martin. The shade.

Martin trusts Peter regarding The Extinction. For now, at least.

But that’s enough, because his soon-to-be-new-father (unless he does something bad, which will lead to his death by my hands) is very happy and wants to give a gift to his favourite son:

Awww, he will pick someone to give some answers! Thank you, Peter, we need them.

Now I wonder: who will this new informer be? Robert Smirke? A revived Jonah Magnus? Elias, forced to do something in his life?

Poor Martin, always surrounded by shady bitches who want to keep their secrets for themselves.

Oh my gosh, he’s too precious. Now he’s even asking Martin’s advice on how to be a better boss (and person in general).

I still have very conflicted feelings about him, but when he does this kind of thing… he just melts my cold heart, okay? That’s wholesome.

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MAG 145 - Infectious Doubts

Oookay, so we get more details regarding the Lightless Flame, Gertrude, Agnes and all that happened between them:

It turns out the weird magic circle in the woods mentioned in season 1 (that one with Gertrude’s photo and hair) was made by Gertrude to contrast the Lightless Flame

In turn, the circle helped The Web to tie her and Agnes together on a metaphysical level

That’s what forced the Fire gang to not attempt the ritual and wait, all while Agnes was “tied” to mortality - long enough to start to develop feelings for Mr. Barnabas

Arthur Nolan ended up losing his leadership position - and became the landlord of future Jane Prentiss

Well, that explains why Eugene talked about “a scar in reality” and interference of other Powers. And somehow, I’m correct: Gertrude threw a Power in the mix and that stopped the ritual.

Throwing shit in truly helps solve everything. Even if in this case, Gertrude accidentally threw herself via The Web. Still counts.

That aside, we don’t exactly know what the fuck did Gertrude do to Eugene. And Jon’s further research doesn’t really help: I mean, he found out Eugene left “a life-sized statue of himself, crafted from candle wax and sawdust, missing its head”? So… Gertrude turned him into a wax statue? How? And kept his head? For what, to expose it in her office? I think I’m missing something here.

Arthur’s words regarding the gods are very interesting too. It looks like Gertrude never truly talked to The Eye or questioned it. While feelings, wants and needs constantly washed over the Fire gang, without any further instruction rather than “just do it”.

Judging by what he said, we can assume some gods are more “collected” and less “emotional” compared to others. Maybe some gods are more needy and pushy, while others are more focused.

But assuming that, would mean the Powers are able to think. And Gertrude seems pretty sure they can't do it.

So… what’s the truth? Are these gods unable to think at all? Or are they just unable to understand the limits of human nature and the rules of our universe? Are there collected Powers and emotional Powers?

Only time will tell, I suppose.

Great, it looks like I asked myself more questions than Gertrude ever did. She never had “that stupid urge to try and understand and classify things that use logic and reality like weapons”, as Arthur said.

Could this be one of the reasons why she got killed, in the end? Was her voluntary attempt to not know that led her astray to The Eye? Or maybe she was just too practical and down-to-earth, to become the favorite avatar of a godly know-it-all?

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MAG 146 - Threshold

Somehow, in this Babel of names, I remembered McKenzie. It was from MAG 27, so an eternity ago. And this time, we got the son, who played a years-long game of hide and seek with The Distortion: it even starred Micheal and Helen!

And when Jon went to the latter to get some explanations, all he got was “Well, that’s what we do when we have to eat”, which is… honestly, don’t know what else Jon expected. Maybe that she offered him a Snickers?

What I find very interesting is how Jon’s reply is not an indignant noise or some moral reprimand: he replies “yes”. Just yes.

It’s been so long, since Jon was a normal human being.

Still, he tries to find an explanation, to not let himself lose to the “avatar instinct” or whatever. He even asks himself if it’s The Web’s fault, because maybe they’re strong enough to control another avatar and make him do things he doesn’t want to, like eating.

His supposition is so unfounded, Helen literally laughs in his face.

I am sorry for Jon, but Helen is right. Jon was hungry, wanted to eat, didn't have any Snickers so he got someone. It wasn’t The Web. I know it makes weird business plans, but I doubt “Let’s force the avatar of The Eye to eat” is one of them.

However, this apparently nonsensical theory works for Jon’s colleagues, who kindly and peacefully treat him like a monster, call him a monster, shut him up and decide to investigate Hill Top Road because yes.

I hope Basira won’t get killed, in her attempt to be Gertrude 2.0 and the most practical person around.

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MAG 147 - Weaver

Please, allow me to recap this hilarious, unnecessarily complicated plan The Web made:

Lure Jon on Hill Top Road.

Once Jon (and his gang) are in, lure them into the room where some stolen records are conveniently piled.

Leave a statement for Jon.

Give me a wonderful reminder of how funny Nikola was with her “Elias, can I call you Elias?”, by opening the statement with: “Free will is a funny old thing, isn’t it, Jon? Can I call you Jon?”.

Tell a story about your supposed childhood and how you left your home to find a woman with a wooden loom and threads into her skin and spiders weaving them.

Season the story with 200 doubts and maybes and “What if this is what the Mother wanted?”, by making Jon question every single line he just read.

Suggest you may have lied about everything because what if this is what the Mother wanted?

Tell Jon to not go back to Hill Top Road.

???

Profit!

I liked Annabelle Cane before, I love her after this. She could’ve left a note in Jon’s office, telling him to not visit Hill Top Road. But no, let’s make a batshit plan to lure him to Hill Top Road, only to tell him to not come back to Hill Top Road. Pure genius.

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MAG 148 - Extended Surveillance

Have I already said I love this man? His voice, the inflection, everything he says… he’s hilarious every time, even when he’s punched by an angry Basira.

So, Elias knew about Jon’s victims but, unlike his colleagues who blamed him for two entire MAGs, he doesn’t give a damn. Of course he doesn’t: giving a damn would mean doing something and we all know Elias loves doing nothing. My favorite lazy bastard <3

Ahahahahah, this man is incredible. Just like I gave stupid nicknames to everyone because they're funny, so he gives Basira a nickname just because he likes how it sounds.

Elias is truly the best character ever and I love him.

Oh, I missed him being a smug bastard. Elias, never change <3

What do you mean by “we still don’t really know what Elias actually is”? He’s the embodiment of The Eye. Or its favorite avatar. Same thing. I suppose?

Fine, I’m not sure either, but I thought it was obvious that he was extremely close to The Eye and had a special relationship with it. And maybe that’s why he can spend a lot of time without eating - unlike Jon. Because he has been an avatar for a long time. A… very long time, I suppose?

Okay, that’s actually interesting. If he’s an avatar, how long has he been an avatar? Before Gertrude became the Archivist? When he was still a stoner? Before that? Then why didn’t he become the Archivist? And why is he so good at controlling the “hunger instinct”? Does he have a hidden cabinet full of Snickers statements?

Greeeeeat, Jon is still pushed by this avatar hunger and cannot find a way to stop it. Maybe he could find a solution in some of Gertrude’s statements? I mean, if she was an avatar of The Eye too, maybe she also experienced the same hunger? And maybe she found a way to satiate it, without using innocents?

Or maybe she found out about Elias's secret stash of snacks and ate all of them, why not?

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MAG 149 - Concrete Jungle

So, human trash human-shaped hunting humans in the jungle still counts as an expression of The Extinction? I suppose it makes sense. I find it just weird that it attacked Dr. Anastos: I thought The Extinction was more like The End, just wiping out everything and feeding on the survivors’ desperation.

But nope, instead some Stranger vibes. And maybe this makes sense too? If The Extinction is a new Power, it could be learning from the older ones how to express itself.

Oh no, a conversation between Martin and Georgie! As I imagined, he doesn’t like her the slightest and I’m pretty sure her being Jon’s ex is part of the reason why. But he also doesn’t really like how she judges the Archives and what they do from the outside, which is… well, understandable but also unfair.

I mean, she is right when she said the place is bad and they’re doing bad things. I said it since the beginning, when I still begged everyone to run away as fast as they could.

But it’s also unfair to condemn them all. Jon is doing questionable things, but he’s still fighting against them. Martin is working alongside an evil avatar, but he’s also trying his best to keep everyone safe.

Moral of the story: at least Martin didn’t unleash some evil Power after her, as I feared. On the contrary, it looks like The Lonely gave him the power of invisibility and being forgotten.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

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MAG 150 - Cul-de-Sac

If the previous statement was about The Extinction but with some Stranger vibes, this statement is about The Lonely, but with some Spiral vibes. Maybe it’s just due to the endless repetition of houses and roads and doors but still.

Oh, great. And here I thought Martin was going to be seduced by The Web because of his love for the spiders. I was wrong: The Lonely IS Martin. Trying not to be a burden? Like, you know, getting everything on your shoulder so you can deal with everything and the others will be safe? And why tell yourself “I’m fucked”, when you can tell “I am doing it for everyone”?

Martin isn’t going to become an avatar of The Lonely: he’s already The Lonely. He’s probably just going to join it back.

Melanie’s plan is… questionable. And I have no idea if it can actually work. If it does, good for her: at least her conscience will be clean.

That’s a very clever point: what if everything is all part of a plan? The Eye’s plan? What if learning more about the rituals, the Powers, the avatars, watching them and stopping them and talking to them, gathering all this heavy, supernatural, “dense” knowledge is exactly what The Eye needs to ascend?

What if Jon doesn’t know anything about The Watcher’s Crown, because he’s already doing the ritual without realizing it?

If that’s the truth, I’m going to explode.

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In conclusion

I am terrified and hyped. Jon saved the world from the Black Sun and he saved the world from The Unknowing, but will he save the world from The Watcher’s Crown too? And what about The Extinction? And Martin? Will my boyo come back from the war or look at The Lonely in its non-existent eyes and tell it “Sup”?

There are too many stakes and only ten chapters left. And you all told me they are the most insane.

I’ll brace myself, so brace yourself as well: the next reaction post is probably going to be extremely long and delirious.

Well, longer and more delirious than usual.

30 image limit, we will meet again very soon.

-> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

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