#(the sea is beyond the sea pfft-)

[illegally-blind-and-deaf]

New Tintin & Scottish!Haddock scenario

La Mer vs Beyond the Sea.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, think back to the end credits song of Finding Nemo sung by Robbie Williams. It's called "Beyond The Sea"; a funky, jazzy, love song popularised by Bobby Darin in 1959 and again by the Legendary Robbie Williams in 2003, but first came out in 1947.

Or did it?

Famous chanson (vintage French jazz) singer-songwriter Charles Trenet originally wrote a song called "La Mer" or The Sea in English and it was published in 1946. I think, it might have been 1945. Anyway, around about then. It is a pretty song that is a gentle tribute to the sea, with vivid imagery of the rolling waves and white clouds and sunlight glittering.

They're the same song. Different lyrics and different subgenre of jazz, but they're the same song

Imagine Haddock listening to "Beyond the Sea" while Tintin is working in his study, and all the reporter can hear is the melody. Haddock catches him later that day whistling the tune.

"Ah, you like that song?"

"Of course, I've loved it since it came out in '45/6."

"It came out in 1947."

"... no. I distinctly remember. I had come back from Switzerland after the war and it was the first record I listened to."

"Are we talking about the same song?"

"Yes, the song you were listening to while I was working."

"Beyond the Sea?"

"Ye- No, its just "The Sea." "La Mer.""

"... It's in English."

"No, it's in French. By Charles Trenet? The French chanson singer?"

"I thought it was by what's-his-face? Harry something?"

"... captain, can you play it to me?"

"'Course I can, laddie."

*they listen*

"Why is it a love song?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's a tribute to the sea, not another love song! They got the lyrics wrong!"

"Why does it matter if it's a love song?"

"Because Charles Trenet is a marvellous poet who sings about simple mundane things and the world around him and yes, sometimes they're love songs, but most of the time they're exploring the world around us or telling a story-"

And then Tintin begins ranting about his favourite artist for a solid half-hour, after which he then plays "La Mer" for Haddock and provides a rough translation of the lyrics.

(Haddock agrees that it's better)

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

Xavier, breaking into Ophelia hall and dramatically barging through the door to Wednesday and Enid’s room

Xavier, sees Enid with her head in Wednesday’s lap: Pfft of course she’s here. What is this? Some sort of sleep over?

Wednesday: Xavier she’s my roommate. And I’m not doing this again. You’re being irrational.

Xavier: Oh really? I’m being irrational? Wednesday I just caught you in bed with the girl who, not to long ago, was running around telling the entire school that the two of you were best friends.

Wednesday: How long are you going to hold that against me? That was in the past. It’s over. You’re my best friend now. I don’t know what else I can do to prove that to you.

Xavier: You’re literally playing with her hair right now. You never play with my hair.

Wednesday: Because she’s my girlfriend you idiot.

Xavier, trying not to cry: Typical Wednesday. Pushing me away the minute things get difficult.

Wednesday: *sighs* Do you want me to play with your hair?

Xavier: Idk! Maybe… I just don’t understand why you had to fall in love with your former best friend. There’s plenty of sapphic fish in the sea Wednesday.

Wednesday: I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone. It just happened. I couldn’t have stopped it even if I wanted to. But that doesn’t lessen my platonic feelings for you.

Xavier: Promise me you don’t feel anything beyond romantic love for her.

Wednesday: I promise. She’s the love of my life. My soulmate. Nothing more.

Enid:

Enid: You two are so fucking weird.

Xavier: Stay out of this Sinclair. You’ve done enough. Now if you two will excuse me. I’ve got a date with painting my feelings.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Distant Similarity MQ translation + video with sub EN

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a MQ that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to   notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

I can only watch as he leisurely pulls on the string, keeping my breath held as the front of my garment could easily come undone at any moment.

As if unintentionally, Lucien raises his leg a little bit, and I slide down to the bottom, tightly pressed against him through the thin fabric.

I can even feel his muscles momentarily tense up. Unable to hold back, I let out a soft moan, which is rewarded with a rush of heated breath against my chest.

After several failed attempts, the person in front of me finally seems to lose patience. His fingers hook onto the thin fabric, undoing it.

[Warning]: The content of this MQ is pretty explicit and may not be  suitable for individuals under the age of 17 (CN server). It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

=[Video + English subtitle]=

(T/N: I highly recommend watch the MQ in video format or following the voice acting for complete experience.)

note: if it doesn’t work, check reblog~

=[Transcript ver]=

[Part 1]

??(Lucien): Excuse me, this classmate, do you also have a class in Building 48 next?

A familiar voice brings my gaze back, and the person in front of me curved his eyebrows and eyes. The tips of his hair gently sway in the wind, radiating beautiful colors.

MC: What if I do?

Lucien: If you do, perhaps I can share the journey of the past with you.

MC: ...Oh dear, what if I say I remembered it wrong, and I actually have no class?

I curl my lips with a mischievous smile as he takes a step closer to me, his voice filled with suppressed grievances.

Lucien: Then, may I have your contact information? So that after class, I can share dinner time with you.

MC: (laughs)….Pfft, I can't escape from you, can I?

Lucien: I can only blame you for being so charming.

He said it as if it was only natural, allowing those sweet and delightful feelings to naturally fill my heart.

MC: Oh, have you finished "reporting" already?

Lucien: Yes, I believe the teacher in charge of reception will take me to the classroom shortly.

He gently interlaces his fingers with mine, and together we lean against the outer wall of the open-air corridor, letting the refreshing sea breeze envelop us.

Colorful rays shimmer on the surface of the sea, and brilliant golden light blends into the abundant azure, winding all the way to the horizon.

MC: It's so comfortable to have classes here, isn't it?

Lucien: It's still a bit stuffy. Later, you can take a stroll in the shade, but take it easy and go at a slower pace.

Lucien: Otherwise, when all my classes are over, the repetitive scenery might dampen MC's enthusiasm.

MC: Professor Lucien underestimates his own charm. I just hope that by then, my eyes will still have some spare attention for other sceneries that aren’t you.

This summer, Lucien, as a guest lecturer, came to the H University summer camp located by the seaside to give a three-day lecture series.

Due to the beautiful sea views nearby, he also invited me to spend a week exploring the area after the lectures are over.

MC: However, your classes are shorter than I imagined. Let me check where your classes are taking place in a moment.

MC: I'll just wander around the school and pick you up after your class... Where should we go afterward?

Lucien: What to do, I'm already looking forward to the time speeding up until it's time for class to end.

MC: It's a pity that Professor Lucien can't skip class~

The gentle sea breeze carries the laughter that resonates at the same time from far away. But, an unfamiliar voice accompanied by anxious footsteps interjects into our conversation.

??: Professor Lucien, I apologize for keeping you waiting for so long.

A young man with a worried expression hurriedly approached, his forehead glistening with sweat, and the shoulders of his shirt damp.

He nervously and discreetly wipes his hands on the sides of his pants and extends his hand to Lucien very politely.

??: You can call me Xiao Tian. I'm in charge of welcoming you to this summer camp.

Lucien: Hello, Teacher Tian. It seems like it's about time. Could you please take me to the classroom first?

Xiao Tian: Of course, Professor.

He nervously purses his lips and looks apologetically at us.

Xiao Tian: The temperature has been extremely high these past few days, leading to a significant increase in electricity usage and causing circuit malfunctions. As a result, the air conditioning is not functioning properly.

Xiao Tian: We are currently working on emergency repairs, but considering the situation of the special guest lecturers…

Xiao Tian: If it is convenient for your schedule, we can reschedule the classes to a later time.

I remain silent and sneak a glance at Lucien.

There is no emotion on his face as if he has not been disturbed by the restlessness. After a moment, he calmly speaks.

Lucien: Are the other classes of the summer camp proceeding as usual?

Xiao Tian: Yes, they are, but we really don't want to cause any inconvenience to the special guest lecturers. We will try to fix the electrical issue as quickly as possible, and then…

Lucien: Thank you for understanding, but since the students are attending classes as usual, there is no need for me to make alternative arrangements.

Lucien calmly interrupts Xiao Tian's words and checks the time on his watch.

Lucien: Teacher Tian, you have worked hard. Please show us the way.

The other person is momentarily stunned, seemingly surprised by Lucien's response. He quickly expresses his gratitude with a deep bow.

Xiao Tian: Please follow me.

Lucien: No wonder the vice dean's office felt a bit stuffy earlier. It seems like I have “demonized” the temperature here a bit.

As we walk behind Teacher Tian, Lucien quietly leaned down and whispered into my ear.

I almost couldn't hold back my laughter and had to bite my lip, leaning closer to him and whispering back into his ear.

MC: The weather is still hot, and I can imagine that the classrooms without proper ventilation will be even hotter.

MC: You've been working in the laboratory overtime for the past few months. Is it okay for you to handle such hot weather?

Lucien: Of course, and I also don't want unnecessary things to occupy our time in the coming days.

Lucien: As for my body…

Lucien: (chuckles) To ensure the satisfaction of my Miss Supervisor, I have been diligently taking care of myself day and night, even more diligently than how I nurtured the tissues in the culture dishes.

His eyes hold an even deeper smile, and his index finger gently twines around my fingertip, as if to comfort me.

Lucien: Besides, in the face of the current situation, I have some small ways to resolve it.

The scorching sun mercilessly radiates its heat, and the humid sensation fills the hot air.

Seeing his unwavering confidence and knowing that he has always been able to make accurate judgments in such situations, I find peace in my heart as well.

MC: Can Professor Lucien also conjure up a functioning air conditioner?

Lucien: It's just some practical tricks, nothing more.

As his words fall, I feel a sense of clarity in the surrounding air. A cool and refreshing sensation envelops my body.

I blink in surprise, colliding with Lucien's delighted gaze.

MC: How is this possible…

Before I can finish my sentence, the sound of falling tiny water droplets reaches my ears.

I lower my head and see numerous water droplets slowly forming on the dry ground. Following their trajectory upward, I finally notice the "trick" he mentioned—

Thin, transparent ice shards stealthily create a barrier, silently and precisely separating the scorching heat from our surroundings. The barrier hovers just a few centimeters away from our bodies.

The cool summer breeze playfully brushes against his forehead, lifting his hair in a brisk arc.

Lucien even effortlessly flicks his fingertips, and a few tiny ice flowers appear in front of me, sparkling with radiant light in the sunshine.

MC: Professor Lucien can even secretly cool himself down!

MC: But…

I glance at the "meandering" trail of water behind us and can't help but playfully squeeze his palm, unable to contain my amusement.

MC: What should we do if everyone notices a puddle of water on the podium after class?

After a moment of contemplation, Lucien's serious gaze hides a hint of amusement.

Lucien: Then I'll have to honestly tell everyone that Professor Lucien has "melted”.

[Part 2]

As the bell rings, I embark on the journey of solo exploration.

The campus during the summer break is devoid of many people, and the occasional scattered figures do not disturb this tranquility.

Walking along the unfamiliar path, the sound of cicadas fills the air, and traces of distant memories seep through the lush foliage along with the sunlight.

Not far from the dormitory entrance, a young boy waits under a tree, eagerly gazing at the dormitory lobby.

A girl angrily shouts at her screen, "I don't believe I won't be able to get a seat in the library today!" as she hurriedly passes by me.

Everything seems to be adorned with a gentle summer filter. I smile and allow myself to sink into this serene atmosphere.

The stifling heat gradually envelops my mind and a thin layer of sweat forms on my back. I ultimately decide to wait for Lucien in the teaching building where he has his class.

The shaded corridor offers no respite from the heat, and from a slightly ajar back door of a classroom, I can faintly hear a familiar voice.

I snicker and purse my lips, finding an empty classroom on the same floor and casually sitting down there.

Perhaps due to the excessive heat, my brain feels heavy and sluggish, and the drowsiness creeps in.

MC: Why isn't your class over yet…

I yawn, propping up my head, and watch the chubby clouds lazily drifting across the sky outside.

I suddenly have a feeling as if I'm in college, waiting for my boyfriend from a different department to finish his class.

MC: But I guess he must have more classes than me, right?

MC: We probably won't be able to take elective courses together either…

As I mumbled to myself, I imagined what it would be like to have Lucien sitting next to me, taking notes.

He would probably listen attentively, but still notice my stolen glances towards him.

MC: No, geniuses don't need to take notes…

MC: Then he must be able to help me with my assignments... By that time, he would probably already be a graduate student…

The bothersome heat that was disturbing my mind just moments ago seems to have faded away unnoticed as if the image of Lucien in my mind is helping me cool down.

I can't help but smile as if because of him, even the waiting becomes joyful.

??(Lucien): Did I miss something interesting?

A voice with a playful tone interrupts my thoughts. I pause for a moment and realize that Lucien is leaning against the door, smiling at me.

MC: You are done with your class!

I instantly wake up and run happily towards him.

MC: Are you tired? Or do you feel hot?

Lucien: Compared to me, you appear to be in hotter condition.

He reaches out his hand, enveloping it with refreshing coldness, and gently caresses my cheek.

I instinctively let out a contented sigh and couldn't resist hugging him. The pleasant sensation of the cold instantly dispels all the summer heat, leaving nothing but boundless comfort.

MC: Wow, it feels so much better now~ I'm not worried about you anymore.

MC: I finally experienced the feeling of seeking refuge in an igloo to escape the intense heat.

A muffled laughter resonates from his chest and reaches my ears. Lucien hugs me even tighter, affectionately pressing his cheek against mine.

Lucien: I don't expect the ninety minutes to feel so long either.

Lucien: But from what I observed just now, this waiting time didn't seem to bore you too much.

MC: Because it's you I'm waiting for.

I couldn't help but recall the vivid imagination that was swirling in my mind just moments ago. I turn my face to the side and smile as I look at him.

MC: Lucien, did you graduate from college at around the age of 20?

Lucien: Although I'm not sure why you're asking this out of the blue, I attended my college graduation ceremony at the age of 15 and obtained my doctoral degree by the age of 20.

MC: ….

MC: So, does that mean while I haven't even finished college, you've already completed your doctoral degree?!

I look at the person in front of me, and in an instant, all the bubbles of fantasy I had just moments ago vanish into thin air.

Lucien: Hmm, what's wrong?

MC: ...I was just imagining scenarios where I could audit your classes and take elective courses together with you.

MC: I never expected reality to be even more magical…

Perhaps my expression of shock was too evident, as it caused his lips to curve into a more pleasant arc.

Lucien: Besides those, what else were you thinking about?

MC: Oh, it's nothing really.

Thinking about those fantasies that aren't suitable to be spoken aloud, I cross my arms and pretend to avert my gaze with a serious expression.

Lucien: If it were me, I would probably indulge in even more outrageous "imaginations".

I raise my head puzzlingly, sinking into his comfortable warmth, and my entire body relaxes.

Lucien: I would imagine... how you would dress and sit next to me, and the kind of gaze you would use to look at me;

Lucien: If I were to solve a difficult problem for you, would it make you show a more radiant smile than usual?

Lucien: If we were to go to the library together, I might not be able to concentrate on reading but instead think about how to make this classmate beside me pay more attention to me;

Lucien: And... bring you to the self-study room that I usually have all to myself, like this.

A gentle and tender peck lands on my cheek, accompanied by the soft whisper of his voice. His words, coupled with the touch of his lips near mine, send my thoughts soaring and dancing along with those words.

Lucien: Embracing you.

Unfulfilled yearning delicately envelops us, lingering between our lips and teeth, filled with tender nostalgia.

With each separation, the reluctance to part grows stronger, craving for more than what fleeting imagination can offer.

Lucien's hand wraps around my waist, his fingertips slowly slipping into the gaps between my left hand's fingers, while his other hand rests against the back of my head.

The summer that's isolated from the outside world transforms into a scorching breath of fiery passion, intensifying as our tongues entwine.

Lucien: But I think... This is not the most outrageous part yet.

The ice seems to melt even faster, and his voice becomes moist, drenching me along with it.

The faint sound of footsteps intermittently tugs at my nerves, yet he swiftly engulfs me in even deeper waves.

The classroom seems to continuously shrink, transforming into the small self-study room within his words, allowing us to explore the secret mysteries of the world clandestinely.

(to explore the secret mysteries of the world is their euphemism for exploring each other-)

??: Ha, look who I meet here.

Suddenly, a lively yet aged voice cuts through and intrudes into my hazy consciousness.

I immediately take a big step back, and after a brief moment of surprise, Lucien gathers himself, tidying up the confusion and disarray on his face and breath. He pulls me closer, positioning me behind him.

At the door stands a spirited and sharp-looking elderly man dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. Next to him is a rather capable-looking young man.

The old man meticulously combs his silver-white hair, and his right-hand rests on a dark brown suit jacket. He raises a gentle smile in our direction.

Beside me, Lucien recognizes that person and slightly raises his eyebrows.

Lucien: Dr. Lawson? Never thought I'd meet you here someday.

His slender eyes curve gently, with a touch of nostalgia in his tone.

Dr. Lawson: How's everything going? Well, I do hear you a lot though.

Dr. Lawson: I just recommended your work as references to my graduates about… a week ago I guess.

Lucien: My honor.

Lucien: And congratulations on your newly published article.

I secretly observe their familiar conversation from behind him, and at this moment, Lucien appears particularly obedient.

Seemingly aware of my gaze, he naturally tucks my slightly disheveled hair behind my ear and politely raises his hand in greeting the old man.

Lucien: This is Dr. Lawson, my professor who guided me during my graduate and doctoral studies.

Dr. Lawson also exchanged a few words with the young person beside him. From their gestures, it seemed like he was introducing himself.

The young person displayed a look of realization and took a step forward to shake hands with Lucien.

Young man: Hello, Professor Lucien. I've long admired your reputation. I am Dr. Yang, the accompanying translator for this trip.

Lucien: Hello, thank you for taking care of Dr. Lawson during this trip.

With the translator present, I can somewhat keep up with the conversations between Lucien and Dr. Lawson.

Lucien: When I saw your name on the promotional brochure, I thought it would be just a video lecture. I didn't expect you to be here in person as well.

Dr. Lawson: It always brings me greater joy to see my students in person.

Dr. Lawson: If you have the time, would you also like to come? Even though it's all content you already know.

Dr. Lawson: Of course, if you're willing, you can also bring your partner along.

Dr. Lawson raises his eyes with great interest, his gaze sweeping over Lucien and me.

However, this invitation makes Lucien hesitate slightly as he purses his lips.

I understand that he is considering our future itinerary. However, the joy he feels when meeting his former professor has already caught my attention before him.

MC: Lucien, can we go and listen? I also really want to know what kind of person our Great Professor Lucien was as a student.

[Part 3]

I naturally won't be able to understand Dr. Lawson's lecture.

We sit at the back of the classroom, several rows away from the summer camp students.

The professor on the podium delivers his lecture gracefully, displaying a serious yet elegant demeanor. Occasionally, he highlights key points on the slides using a red laser pointer.

His tone is calm but not dull. When discussing certain points, he even emphasizes them by adding a slight emphasis on a few occasions.

Although I am unfamiliar with the content, seeing the students deeply engrossed and occasionally laughing, it must be an incredibly captivating class.

I prop my hand against my head, but my peripheral vision sneakily glides to the side.

Lucien supports his chin, his gaze not fully focused on Dr. Lawson, wearing a contented expression that suggests he is in a good mood.

Rather than saying he is attending the lecture, it seems like he is immersed in the atmosphere.

At this moment, what do you see through your eyes?

I lean on the desk and gaze at him, feeling somewhat dreamy and lost in thought.

On the stage is his professor from his master's and doctoral years, while we sit together in the same classroom, listening to the lecture.

The coincidence is so beautiful, carving out a corner of unity in the otherwise unconnected realms of time and space, fulfilling my small dream.

I happily squint my eyes and can't help but curl up the corners of my mouth.

Lucien: Can I join you in your smile too?

His gaze still lingers on the blackboard, but his head tilts down, and his warm lips lightly brush against my earlobe as if it were an accidental touch.

MC: Professor Lucien, don't get distracted now.

MC: So, were you also not focused during your previous classes, secretly slipping away from the ocean of knowledge?

Lucien: Does it seem like I'm not fully immersed in it?

Lucien: Dr. Lawson is currently talking about the second experimental model on page ten of the handout.

He casually mentions it, and his fingertips naturally intertwine with mine at the same time.

Lucien: However, it's indeed my first time listening to a lecture like this.

Lucien: Perhaps this is what the feeling of "university" is like?

MC: Hmph, it sounds like the genius Professor Lucien didn't properly attend university before…

Before the unfinished banter can escape my lips, I suddenly freeze for a moment.

Completing university education at the age of 15 and obtaining a doctoral degree at 20... In such a short and youthful period of time, Lucien seems to have walked faster than anyone else.

Perhaps he always knew what he wanted, disregarding all the complicated things, and kept moving forward without losing sight of his goals.

He probably never wasted anything, efficiently managing not only his time but also himself.

My eyes are suddenly filled with the image of a calm young boy. He appears so content and absorbed in his pursuits, yet I can't help but want to reach out and hold his hand.

Lucien: What's wrong?

His face comes closer, overlapping with that distant face.

My fingertips gently caress his cheek, filled with indescribable affection and tenderness.

In his puzzled gaze, I lift my head and, in the split second when Dr. Lawson looks away, I quickly peck his cheek.

MC: Then let me give you a little more of this "feeling".

His deep pupils visibly contract for a moment, and the bright sunshine pours in, washing over us like a tidal wave.

Amidst a dazzling halo of light, seeing his rare moment of bewilderment, I seize the opportunity and give him another kiss while Dr. Lawson turns his head.

Lucien: It seems like I missed quite a lot.

His voice is filled with a sense of confusion, and he lowers his head as he sees the smile in my narrowed eyes.

Suddenly, I feel a faint gaze and instinctively turn my face, and Lucien also follows my gaze, shifting his attention along with me-

Dr. Lawson looks at us from afar, raising his eyebrows.

Noticing our gaze, he purses his lips and squints his eyes slightly, his gaze taking on a more scrutinizing look.

But that's all there is to it.

The next second, Dr. Lawson shrugs and continues to focus on his lecture slides.

And my rationality immediately kicks in, realizing what I have just done. My face flushes with embarrassment.

But Lucien seems to be in a better mood now. He leans on the desk and looks at me with a playful smile.

Lucien: This class turned out to be even better than I expected.

The sweltering heat silently engulfs the world, and halfway through the class, I notice tiny beads of sweat forming on Dr. Lawson's temples.

Lucien raises his gaze for just a moment before lowering his head again, gently caressing my fingers, lost in his own thoughts.

Is it okay for the lecture to continue like this?

I blink my eyes, considering that Lucien would probably be more aware of the situation than me, so I refrain from asking the question out loud.

Meanwhile, the person on the stage seems completely unaffected by the unfavorable circumstances and continues to guide the students in understanding one key point after another.

However, after some time, the sweat beads that were previously rolling down slowly disappear. The doctor's flushed cheeks, which were red due to the heat, return to their normal color.

In that instant, I knew who was behind this change.

Perhaps worried about being discovered, the layer of ice around the doctor must have gradually formed, subtly lowering the temperature less noticeably.

I purse my lips and lean in close to his ear, speaking softly.

MC: Uh oh, there will be a puddle of water at the doctor's feet soon.

Lucien: In this case, it should be considered a normal occurrence.

Lucien smiles calmly, even looking at his teacher with a hint of curiosity and interest.

Lucien: With the weather being so hot, Dr. Lawson has also honestly "melted" away.

For the next two days, our itinerary was quite simple.

While Lucien attended his classes, I would wander around and explore other places until he finished, and then we would attend the lectures together.

On the third day, the school's electricity was finally repaired, and Lucien no longer had to rely on Evol every day.

MC: Why do I feel like I'm becoming more and more like a girlfriend accompanying her boyfriend to class during summer break in college?

In the evening, Lucien and I walk together along the path, waiting for the time when Dr. Lawson's class begins.

With curved eyes and a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, he can't hide his happiness.

Lucien: If you want, I would be more than happy to help you join the classroom.

MC: Please spare me, as I'm afraid I won't be able to fully appreciate the mysteries of neuroscience.

Just imagining those complex model data gives me a headache. I quickly wave my hand to decline his offer.

MC: But if there were any group assignments, I would definitely team up with you, the "academic god."

MC: With you around, I'm sure we won't have to worry about anything.

MC: People who get to do group assignments with you in college must be very fortunate indeed…

Lucien: I'm not quite sure if they're fortunate or not.

He squints his eyes, seemingly pondering for a moment.

Lucien: I don't have a lot of group assignments to participate in, and most of the time I choose to complete all the work by myself.

Lucien: This way, I won't waste time, and often it actually allows me to have more free time to do other things.

His voice is gentle, blending into the summer breeze.

MC: Will you miss that time?

Lucien: It was just a period of time that had to be experienced, nothing more.

It felt as if countless days and nights of solitude were spent in such a matter-of-course manner, making the illustrious title of "genius" seem so weightless.

Lucien: But now I enjoy wasting time like this with you.

Lucien: Going for a walk, or just having a chat, or perhaps... without needing to say anything at all.

I freeze for a moment, gazing into his ink-like eyes.

Lucien: Sometimes you make the time go faster, and sometimes you make it go slower... It's like everything has a different meaning now.

MC: That’s not good, the truth and mysteries waiting to be explored by Professor Lucien will protest because of being neglected.

Lucien: I just want to explore the one that interests me the most.

I couldn't help but laugh and playfully pinch his nose.

MC: It's okay, no matter which one you want to explore, I'll be there with you.

The oil-painting-like sunset cast its hues behind him as if he himself was captivating brush strokes carefully painted by God.

The similar silhouettes stretch long, blending into the warm hues of the twilight.

The sound of the bell rings, and reluctantly, I peck his lips again and take his hand.

MC: Let's go, it's time for class...

Before I could finish my sentence, a force pulled me into his embrace.

He simply hugs me without saying a word, his chin resting on top of my head.

MC: We'll be late.

Lucien: (whispers clingily) But... I don't want to go.

The evening breeze gently enveloped us, capturing the warmth of the summer within an embrace akin to a passionate kiss.

Lucien: I don't think the professor would mind if I miss one foundational class.

Lucien: (whisper) It feels like such a waste not to spend this beautiful night together with you.

[Part 4]

Dr. Lawson: Farewell, Dr. Lucien.

Dr. Lawson: Looking forward to hearing you from journal soon.

Lucien: I'll try my best.

Then, Lucien softly says a few more words. The sentence is short, yet carries a profound significance.

Lucien: Take care.

As Dr. Lawson sits with a smile in the backseat of the car and gradually disappears from sight, Lucien takes my hand and eagerly walks in the opposite direction.

Lucien: It's time to officially embark on the summer that only belongs to us.

MC: I thought you've been enjoying these past few days.

Lucien: Enjoying it is one thing, but sharing it exclusively with you is another.

Following the plan we had made earlier, Lucien and I head to the seaside guesthouse to check in as arranged.

We swiftly pack our summer essentials and set off to chase the radiant beauty of the summer without wasting any time.

The rising temperature does not deter our steps. With the ocean tides surging, it feels as if the world has gathered all its brilliance here, creating an atmosphere of comfort and freedom.

The beach remains lively in the afternoon, with the restless beats and melodies dancing along with the shimmering waves not far away. People sing songs and dance freely, enjoying themselves to the fullest.

I maneuver through the crowd, holding two glasses of smoothies, and when I return to the shade, I notice that Lucien seems to be in a daze.

MC: Is it too noisy here? Shall we go somewhere else for a while?

He blinks slowly and offers me a reassuring smile.

Lucien: It's alright, maybe it's just too hot.

MC: Wow! Our Professor Lucien won't "melt" here, right?

He seems amused by my teasing and takes one of the smoothies. He gently places my palm against the side of his face.

Lucien: Well then, Miss, you'll be responsible for freezing me back properly.

It seems that Lucien always maintains that confident and composed demeanor, effortlessly handling any unexpected situations that arise.

Upon hearing his response, I trust in him without a doubt. However, soon…

I start to regret the judgment I made.

There is no emotion on Lucien's face as large beads of sweat occasionally roll down from his temples. His eyes gaze straight ahead, focused on the path ahead.

MC: Lucien? Lucien!

It's only when I wave my hand in front of his eyes that he blinks and turns his head, seemingly coming back to his senses.

Lucien: ...Hmm? Sorry, I didn't hear what you were saying just now.

MC: What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?

After a moment, my words seem to reach his ears in fragments, and he slowly opens his mouth to respond.

Lucien: It's alright, I'm just feeling a bit hot.

Lucien: How about you? Do you need to take a break?

His fingertips brush against the side of my face, carrying a damp and slightly warm sensation.

I suddenly realize what's going on and quickly touch his forehead—different from steaming heat of the environment, a hot temperature emanates through my palm.

Upon closer inspection, I notice that his neck is also covered in beads of sweat, trickling down into the inner part of his shirt.

I quickly pull him to a shaded area, and to my surprise, he doesn't resist at all, obediently standing in front of me.

MC: Lucien, I feel like something's not right with you... Are you experiencing heatstroke?

Lucien: I won't get heatstroke.

Lucien denies it without batting an eye. Clean, precise, and straightforward, it's like an instinctive response after a mental shutdown.

MC: ....Why won't you get heatstroke?

Lucien: Because I don't meet the conditions for heatstroke. Heatstroke occurs under high temperatures, high humidity, lack of ventilation, or intense heat radiation, combined with prolonged engagement in strenuous activities that lead to an increase in body heat.

MC: …..

Feeling increasingly uneasy, I refrain from saying anything more and immediately hail a taxi, bringing him back to the guesthouse.

Lucien: I don't think the current situation is enough to disrupt our plans. I understand the state of my body very well….

MC: Dizziness, body heat, sweating... Your current symptoms are exactly like those of heatstroke.

I interrupt him without hesitation, firmly poking his flushed cheek.

MC: You've been working non-stop before, and attending classes in such a hot place. Plus, you've been using Evol for an extended period of time.

MC: Your body must be exhausted from all the work, and with today's temperature reaching nearly 40 degrees, it's highly likely that you accidentally suffered from heatstroke.

I quickly turn on the air conditioning in the room, help him change into a fresh set of clothes, and gently guide him to lie down on the bed. Then, I hurriedly fetch a glass of water and encourage him to drink it slowly.

MC: Even if it's not heatstroke, it's still good to take a rest. We can afford to take some time off and enjoy ourselves, right?

Finally, it seems like my words have "registered" in his mind, and Lucien slowly becomes aware of the abnormalities in his body.

He lies flat on the bed, furrowing his brow tightly, displaying a rare expression of displeasure.

Seeing him obediently lying down, I open the food delivery app on my way to boil water and place an order for some medications and alcohol.

Given the intense heat, it seems that many people have experienced heatstroke. The delivery platform even has shortage notifications, and it would take nearly half a day for the order to be delivered.

I sigh with concern and proceed to purchase some physical cooling sprays online.

After I set the hot water on the windowsill to cool, I return to the bedroom only to find Lucien sitting up again.

Lucien: I have already rested enough.

Lucien: I have a sufficient understanding of my own physiological condition.

His ink-like eyes still appear slightly unfocused, but he wears a resolute expression as if our brief departure has become irrefutable proof of something.

Lucien: Essentially, my condition hasn't reached a level that would affect our plan.

Lucien: While there may be another opportunity to visit the destinations we planned for, the efficiency would be too low. With the same amount of time, we can explore other places.

Lucien: In addition, it would also alleviate your worries and allow us to continue enjoying our trip happily.

MC: ….

Hearing his rigid response, I also feel a bit annoyed.

It's rare for me to see Lucien lose control like this.

MC: Heatstroke is not something to be embarrassed about. What are you resisting?

Lucien: I'm just stating the facts.

Lucien: But if you don't want to go out, we can do something else.

His usual calm tone is wrapped in a little bit of stubbornness, and with a determined momentum, he pulled me into a hot embrace.

MC: You need to lie down first…

My remaining words fail to form as they shatter in his overwhelming intrusion, wet and without restraint, relentlessly entangling.

He vigorously sweeps through my mouth, creating slick sounds.

His scorching breath, along with the rising body temperature, engulfs everything, burning every nerve ending and instantly dissolving all of my rationality.

I tremble involuntarily, feeling as though I'm standing on a floating iceberg, desperately clinging to him in the midst of the surging tide.

The sticky fabric of our clothes binds our closely pressed skin even more intimately, eliciting waves of indulgent shivers with each rubbing.

I lose myself in a daze, attempting to gather some consciousness by turning to the side, but I'm immediately turned over and pressed against the bed, with both of my hands firmly held in the grip of his strong and large hand.

Lucien: (whisper) Look... you're sweating a lot now too.

Lucien: Just like me…

His scorching fingertips caress my back, and I find myself unable to utter a single word of refutation as it gets consumed by his dense breath, leaving only a shallow moan to escape.

Lucien: You feel hot too, don't you?

Lucien: (whisper) Do you want some water?

The air conditioner seems to have stopped, allowing our rapid breaths to intertwine and steadily raise the temperature. Slowly but powerfully, it infiltrates every limb and bone of mine.

Lucien: Don't worry about things that don't need your concern... Just focus on feeling me.

His voice is hoarse, and the corners of his eyes are tinged with seductive crimson.

The scorching heat blankets my back, while delicate kisses trace a path from the nape of my neck downwards. I can't see Lucien's face, but I can vividly feel every blazing fireworks he ignites-

-setting the world ablaze, burning me to the very end.

(yes it’s ‘that’ kind of fireworks)

In the darkness, I can only hear his voice seeping through the kisses drenched with longing and desire.

Lucien: (with slight gasps at the end) I still have the energy to accompany you to do more things.

[Part 5- Intertwined Emotions]

The night grows late, and everything remains quiet. The girl's steady and peaceful breathing blends into the moonlit scene.

Lucien gazes fixedly at the girl in his arms, instinctively tightening his arms around her again.

The real and familiar sensation of touch and body warmth pressed against him, soothing and comforting, causing him to instinctively emit a contented sigh.

He feels as if he is still floating.

A swaying sensation ripples throughout his body, his brain not responding to commands, causing a sluggish and delayed state that leaves him feeling somewhat annoyed.

He doesn't like this feeling.

Lucien: ….

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and when he opens his eyes again, there is a hint of sobriety that’s maintained by self-control in his gaze.

The next moment, Lucien gets up and walks towards the bathroom. A gentle stream of water flows  slowly from the faucet, and he reaches out to catch it, pressing it against his still warm cheeks.

After repeating the motion several times, he finally places both hands on the sink, leaning towards the mirror.

Perhaps due to the lighting, his own complexion appears slightly pale and his eyes look bloodshot. It's as if he has been drenched by seawater…

-He appears in a complete mess.

The world spins with intense dizziness. He takes another deep breath, making sure his feet are firmly planted on the ground before slowly stepping out of the bathroom.

Faint knocking sounds at the door, causing him to furrow his brow. As he opens the door, he finds a delivery person standing outside.

He can't quite make out what the person says, but instinctively takes the item handed to him and closes the door—

—It seems to be something the girl bought for him.

He slowly closes his eyes and softly takes out a bottle of medicine from the bag, examining it with his blurred vision under the dim light.

Lucien: ….

When he sees that the applicable symptoms almost match his own, he stands there in a daze for a while.

Lucien: ...Why do I get heatstroke?

He tries to make sense of something, but the overwhelming emotions swallowed by the sea surge over him once again.

Some unfamiliar yet gentle sensations seem to envelop him, and in the blurry world, he can hear MC's steady breath clearly.

They seem to silence everything.

[the sensations are the feeling of being safe but he doesn’t know yet :”]

He doesn't think anymore, he simply instinctively puts the medicine back into the paper bag and lies back down beside her.

Just one sleep and everything will be all right.

Watching her tranquil sleeping expression, Lucien can't help but extend his fingertip, landing softly on her cheek, and gently stroking it.

Lucien: (softly) There won't be any unexpected situations like this tomorrow.

Lucien: I will continue to take leisurely walks with you by the seaside and accompany you to see the scenery you desire.

Lucien: Goodnight.

After he speaks in a barely audible voice, he hooks his hand around the girl's fingertips and closes his eyes heavily.

The next second, he feels as if he's caught in a vortex.

The girl pulls his hand and they dance together, splashing waves of silver and white.

Later, they run to the valley, up in the clouds, and in the depths of a secluded pool.

He can vividly feel the warmth of her embrace, the intimate words she whispered into his ear, and the scorching, moist sensation as their lips meet.

The world is terribly hot, yet she continues to accompany him, melting together with him in every corner.

After their countless collisions, a brilliant beam of light suddenly casts onto his retina.

(another poetic euphemism-)

Even though he doesn't open his eyes, he can still see it—a brilliant sunlit sky against a backdrop of blue.

Beneath the brilliant sun, the girl wears a sun hat and her favorite floral dress, happily waving at him with a smile.

Although he can't hear the sound clearly, he can still discern the girl's lip movements with clarity.

MC: Lucien, look over here! It's so beautiful—

Lucien: I think the most beautiful scenery is already right in front of me.

Without hesitation, he takes a step forward and walks towards the girl, then hugs her in his arms.

And just like countless ordinary moments in the past, he lowers his head and kisses her.

Indeed, those uncomfortable feelings were all illusions, or rather, it was a very brief and unpleasant bad dream.

At this very moment, he is still doing what he should do today, according to his heart's desire….

—Embracing her.

—And falling in love with her.

[can i say that this part is just so beautifully written sob sob]

[Part 5]

Lucien has suffered from complete heatstroke.

I sigh wordlessly, looking at the man who is deeply asleep on the bed, and I anxiously wipe his sweat-drenched forehead and cheeks with an alcohol pad.

MC: Lucien, you big fool.

I couldn't help but mutter angrily at him, and I drew a small pig nose on his forehead with an alcohol pad.

MC: Disobedient big fool…

I rarely see Lucien in such a weak state. He has always been poised and composed. Even when tired, he would hide it deeply, as if he never experiences those negative states.

Although he often shows vulnerability to me, I am well aware that it is just another facet of his gentle nature.

He seems to always stand firmly, calmly observing everything.

Come to think of it, this time his heatstroke situation is particularly unusual.

I can't resist sighing again, but in the next moment, my gaze crashes into eyes filled with a drowsy and profound gaze.

I don't know when he opens his eyes, but he doesn't say a word. He just looks at me quietly and serenely.

MC: Are you awake? Do you want to have some water?

Lucien: ....Want to drink.

(t/n: In CN Lucien talks in simple and short 2-3 words sentence, which is actually really cute if not for the fact that it’s caused by his heatstroke)

I immediately pick up the warmed-up glass of water and, seeing him dizzily sit up, I support his shoulder and bring it to his lips.

MC: While you were sleeping, I called a doctor from a nearby clinic to come and check on you.

MC: He said the problem isn't too serious, and you just need to rest well for the next few days.

The severe dizziness seems to still be afflicting him, despite my efforts to speak softly and slow down my speech, it takes a considerable amount of time for my words to reach his ears.

He doesn't say anything, just nods obediently, as if in some kind of "offline mode."

MC: Do you want to have some porridge?

Lucien: ...Not really.

MC: How about taking a nap again? By the time you wake up, you should have enough strength to eat something.

Lucien: …Um, okay.

Seeing him weakly lie back down, I open the app and consider whether to simply buy some millet and vegetables. Takeout food tends to be greasy, and I feel like he wouldn't want to eat it even more.

I was lost in my thoughts until I suddenly realized that there is a gaze fixed on me.

I instinctively turn my head and find Lucien lying on the bed, silently gazing at me. His gaze is serene as if there are emotions silently surging within him.

MC: What's wrong? Can't sleep? Are you feeling dizzy?

He remains silent, simply gazing at me intently.

Feeling a bit anxious, I take out an alcohol wipe and gently wipe his face and arms, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.

MC: Don't overthink it either, let your brain rest and relax.

MC: Trust me and let go of your worries. I'll take care of "freezing" you back properly. So, there's nothing to worry about.

[she’s mimicking his joke from earlier, when he asks her to be responsible for freezing him back :’]

I gently kiss his forehead and eyes, tenderly caressing his still slightly hot cheeks.

MC: Don't worry about anything.

Lucien exhales softly, his gaze distant yet incredibly earnest as he continues to stare attentively.

After a while, he raises his hand and gently hugs me.

Lucien: (chuckles and says quietly)...come to my side.

I yield to his strength and find myself enveloped in his embrace.

Lucien: I need you here.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps the accumulated exhaustion of many days suddenly overwhelmed him. In the following days, Lucien remained in a drowsy and lethargic state, but the signs of heatstroke noticeably diminished.

At times, he still sleeps restlessly, as if subconsciously worrying about something. However, when he sees me, he slowly exhales as if finding solace-

-and he extends his arm towards me, inviting me to join him in deep slumber.

The evening by the seaside has cooled down considerably, with the sea breeze carrying a gentle salty scent along with the rolling waves.

Having been confined indoors for too long, Lucien takes advantage of the current coolness and lies down on the soft couch on the terrace.

The evening glow spills like ink across the horizon, blending with the azure hues to create a hazy halo of warmth.

The twinkling lights shimmer and complement the distant stars, as the flickering lights gently envelop him, exuding a warm and soothing glow, akin to polished jade.

Separated by the glass, I feel the comforting tranquility surrounding me as well.

He raises his gaze and looks over amid a gentle golden glow.

There is no particular emotion in his eyes, and the act of gazing becomes meaningful in itself, like another form of silent and intimate touch.

MC: What's the matter, my great professor?

I stick my head out from behind the door with a smile and shake a glass of water at him.

MC: Do you want some water? Or are you hungry?

This overly familiar conversation has been repeated many times in these past few days. He squints his eyes, lazily tilting his head at me.

Lucien: MC, I think I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable.

MC: Hm? Uncomfortable?

Startled, I quickly move closer to him and touch his forehead and cheeks.

MC: The temperature seems okay. Are you feeling dizzy again?

In response, he takes hold of my hands and gently places them on his face, exhaling with a sense of relief.

Lucien: (jokingly as he says the same thing as MC said earlier in this MQ) Finally experienced the feeling of seeking refuge in an igloo to escape the intense heat.

MC: …Pfft.

Upon hearing this familiar exclamation coming from his mouth, I can't hold back and burst into laughter.

Lucien: I've noticed that your smile seems to make me even more comfortable.

He smoothly pulled me into his embrace, shifting his body to allow us to lie down together on the soft couch. He wrapped my hand around his body.

The sound of the tide and his steady heartbeat resonate in my ears, creating a peaceful echo.

MC: If you weren't so stubborn, you could have been comfortable much earlier.

I can't help scratching his back with my fingertips, feeling a sense of helplessness and frustration when I think about his behavior at that time.

MC: How did I not know before that Professor Lucien had such a stubborn side?

Lucien: Because I believed that I shouldn't have gotten heatstroke.

MC: There's no such thing as "should" or "shouldn't" when it comes to sudden discomfort in the body. It's a normal thing to happen.

He remains silent for a moment, only speaking after a long while.

Lucien: I should have taken proper precautions and measures to prevent and avoid the accident from happening so that the original plan could proceed smoothly.

Lucien: This is something that could have been avoided.

Lucien: ...Why did it happen?

He murmured a question, but that question doesn't seem to be directed toward me.

During his isolated years, he probably avoided numerous troubles and trivial matters in this way multiple times.

But when self-preservation becomes etched in one's marrow and melds into an instinct, it feels a bit lonely.

I don't know what to say, so I just softly kiss his lips with tender affection.

MC: You're right, we should indeed try our best to avoid getting sick, but it’s okay even if we do get sick.

MC: Because I'll be by your side.

MC: When you're sick, just rest well, and when you're tired, you can lean on my shoulder.

MC: You can live like this, taking it for granted.

In his eyes, there seemed to be a surging tide, and the darkening night in the distance seemed to slowly seep into them.

After a long while, he let out a deep sigh and gently traces my face with his fingertips.

Lucien: So... it's because you're here.

[because he subconsciously feels safe enough that he can show her his vulnerable side :”]

MC: Huh? Of course, I'm right here.

I rub against his warm fingertips, unable to resist the desire to hold him even tighter.

MC: Even when you're feeling troubled, I'll still be by your side.

MC: I will tell you that being sick is not just a troublesome matter, but you will also receive a lot of care and concern.

MC: Even if our plan gets disrupted, we will still have plenty of time to come back and complete it.

I know you've been walking alone for too long, but as long as you lower your head, you will see my hand tightly holding onto yours.

Lucien: If... what I want is more than just care?

MC: I'll give you whatever you want.

Almost as if it slipped out involuntarily, I couldn't help but burst into a giggle.

But as he is about to speak, I notice that the lingering warmth of the summer night continues to make him sweat a little, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

My body moves faster than my mind, I run to the living room and grab the chilled bottled water from the refrigerator and the cooling spray on the dining table.

MC: Even though you're already feeling much better, it's still important to be more cautious.

I hand him the bottled water, vigorously shake the cooling spray, and gently spray it onto his body.

Lucien: …

MC: Is it too cold?

Lucien: It's okay, but I still want... to feel even more comfortable.

Lucien leans the bottled water against his face, partially propping himself up, his gaze locked on me.

I'm not sure why I feel a bit nervous under his intense gaze, but I still make an effort to suppress my thoughts. I reach out my hand and gently spread the foam-like gel on his body.

I feel the tautness of his muscles beneath my fingertips, and his damp skin slightly rises and falls in my palm, emanating a moist sensation.

Lucien: (whisper) ...Here, I also want to be touched by you here.

His voice carries a seductive power, guiding my fingertips to caress his neck and chest, and gradually moving downwards.

The icy gel takes on a hint of warmth from his heated skin, making it difficult to distinguish whether it is his warmth or mine.

Lucien: And... Here, don't forget about here as well.

Lucien: It's also a bit uncomfortable here.

He covers my hand with his, placing it on the yet unexplored area. The scorching heat seeps through the thin fabric, causing me to instinctively inhale sharply.

(it’s implied that he guides her to his d-)

MC: You seem to be feeling hot…

Lucien: (hoarsely) I think it's probably unrelated to heatstroke.

MC: ....Can I believe that?

Lucien: Then how should I prove it this time?

Lucien's supressed noises seem to be suffused with warmth, causing me to feel somewhat parched and thirsty.

Droplets of sweat occasionally slide from his ear, slowly descending along his jawline and dripping onto his chest, merging with the remaining sweat, forming ambiguous curves.

Subtle gasps overflow from his throat and alluring blush spread across his face.

Lucien doesn't shift his gaze even for a moment, staring at me intently.

MC: You, um, just stay lying there.

Under such intense gaze, my voice trembles slightly, and my fingertips nervously fumble while stroking.

MC: You... don't keep looking at me like this.

Lucien: Why not?

MC: You make me distracted... and especially nervous.

I lick my dry lips, but I can't tear my gaze away even for a moment.

I see him smile gently.

Lucien: (whisper) You seem more like my summer.

He pulls me into his embrace, a mix of warmth and coolness enveloping me, causing me to instinctively shiver for a moment.

I nestle in the hollow of his shoulder, observing as his Adam's apple bobs up and down, and a droplet of sweat lands on my lips.

His breath surrounds me, overwhelming and all-encompassing. I may have escaped from his deep gaze, but I feel him even more intensely.

Lucien: Letting me make irrational judgments, leaving me dizzy and enthralled, making me forget everything…

Lucien: Allowing me to see this...real side of myself.

His voice, like sweat, glides into my ears. He firmly holds onto my wrist, mischievously sucking and kissing his way up from my earlobe.

As my consciousness gradually drifts away, the lingering sensation of gel feels slightly sticky. I can only instinctively follow his lead, stroking his increasingly heated skin.

Lucien: (hoarsely) Make me more comfortable in your own way.

[Part 6]

MC: The temperature seems to have risen again today. Are you sure you can handle it?

Lucien: Oh no, it seems like I'm turning into a glass doll in MC's eyes.

Lucien: If possible, I still hope you can trust my judgment a bit more.

He lazily sits on the sofa, yet his eyes remain full of interest.

Lucien: It's rare to come to the seaside, but until now, I haven't found an opportunity to go into the water with you.

Lucien: I always feel like something is missing.

With a hint of unspoken grievance in his words, I can't help but laugh and playfully pinch his nose.

MC: Do you really want to go into the water?

Lucien: Of course, I want to be with you. Is that not possible?

I know that he must still be considering my feelings, and my heart can't help but soften even more.

MC: But it's so hot at the beach.

Lucien: How about the pool next to our terrace? Does that meet your requirements?

Lucien: If it's too hot, we can quickly return to the house, and it will still fulfill my wish to go into the water.

MC: I see, so you had already planned this, didn't you?

He presents his case with sound reasoning and evidence, smiling as he stands up.

Lucien: I just thought, it would be perfect, isn't it?

MC: I can't argue with you, but if you feel uncomfortable at any point, be sure to let me know immediately, okay?

After receiving a nod of approval, he contentedly pecks my lips and walks over to the suitcase to retrieve the swimsuit.

MC: Do we really need to dress up so formally just to play at the pool?

(read: we can just skinny dip if it's just the two of us)

Lucien: We still have the whole afternoon.

(read: we still have a lot of time, we can skinny dip later-)

Lucien: And besides, I remember you spent a long time choosing a swimsuit for this trip as well.

Lucien: If we just leave without seeing it, it feels like there will be even more regrets for this summer.

(read: i just want to see you in the swimsuit)

His eyes and brows curve, as if he has returned to a state that I am most familiar with.

But I can also distinctly sense that something is different.

MC: Then I can't become the "culprit" of Professor Lucien's summer regrets.

MC: Wait for me here for a moment, okay?

The water in the pool is still a bit chilly. After thinking for a moment, I grab the hose and sprinkle some water in the shallow area to adjust the temperature.

Worried about Lucien experiencing a sudden change from the heat to a colder temperature, I cautiously decided to let him acclimate to the water temperature before getting in.

Meanwhile, "Mr. Former Patient" pays no attention and sits on the side, wearing a smile and appearing to be in a good mood.

I cup some water in my hands and sprinkle it over his body.

MC: Let your body adjust to the water temperature a bit more, okay?

Lucien: The temperature still feels a bit cold.

Upon hearing him say that, I hesitate for a moment, wondering if we should just turn back inside.

cue his beautiful 5th birthday bgm :”

But in the next second, a strong force pulls me downwards, and after a brief moment of surprise, I find myself falling into his arms.

The hose in my hand spins uncontrollably, splashing water that seems to wet both of us and everything around us.

I blink uncomfortably and shake my head to get rid of the water droplets on my forehead. When I raise my eyes again, I find the person in front of me still gazing at me with shining eyes.

Lucien: (chuckle) This is much better now.

MC: (unamused) Can you still play tricks like this?

Lucien: Didn't you say I could live more naturally and take things for granted?

He interlaces his fingers with mine, bringing us even closer together.

Lucien: If I were to say that I like it when you care about me when I'm sick, or when your eyes are filled by me, and when you think about me in everything... would you be unhappy?

Lucien: If I were to say that because of you, I allow myself to become slow-witted and greedy, would it be difficult for you?

Lucien: If I were to say that the most beautiful things appeared in my life because of something I never dared to do, or something that had long been forgotten by me…

Lucien: What kind of expression would you show me then?

Even though they are questions, they feel like declarations of love, with his deep voice mingling with the moist breath.

Lucien whispers softly, yet it's enough to make my heart tremble.

Lucien: Why do I crave your answer so much…

Lucien: And why do I believe that you can fulfill all my needs and wishes?

I don't know how to express my emotions, so I can only respond to him with love and tenderness.

This person, he's cunning and dangerous, yet distant and gentle, effortlessly captivates my entire heart and soul without even intending to.

But he is such a good person. Even if he is the only one in this world, whether he belongs to me or not, he is simply wonderful.

I can't help but sink in his ink-like eyes. He is so alive and real when he embraces me.

MC: ...Don't you know the answers to these questions?

Lucien: I know. And it seems like I've accepted this fact... faster than I had imagined.

Lucien: I allow myself to be by your side without any burdens.

Lucien: You make me feel safe.

It feels like a kind of sublime surrender, gently encroaching upon the depths of my soul.

It makes me surrender the same heart in return.

MC: Then, prove it to me one more time.

Lucien bends his left leg, instantly altering the support beneath me. I shift my weight, pressing my body against his thigh.

I instinctively lean back, but he doesn't offer much resistance. He simply lifts himself slightly and effortlessly bites onto the string at my chest.

Lucien: Are you trying to escape already?

With my hands firmly held by him, I can only watch as he leisurely pulls on the string, keeping my breath held as the front of my garment could easily come undone at any moment.

The warm breath continuously brushes against my skin, like a suggestive hint, arousing all my senses throughout my body.

In the close proximity of our gazes, there is still a hint of wilfulness and coquetry in his eyes, but the strength in his arms is irresistible.

The droplets of water from his hair fall onto my body, and the rising body temperature momentarily turn chill, causing me to shiver involuntarily.

As if unintentionally, Lucien raises his leg a little bit, and I slide down to the bottom, tightly pressed against him through the thin fabric.

I can even feel his muscles momentarily tense up. Unable to hold back, I let out a soft moan, which is rewarded with a rush of heated breath against my chest.

Everything becomes slippery and unbearable. I want to escape, but I'm completely powerless to do so.

After several failed attempts, the person in front of me finally seems to lose patience. His fingers hook onto the thin fabric, undoing it.

Before the coolness has a chance to gather, it is quickly dispersed by his heat.

The water rushing out of the hose forms trembling waves in the air, and we are like a drifting boat caught in them, on the verge of being capsized.

The hairpin at the back of my head almost falls as it is burdened by a heavy task, but Lucien catches it just in time.

(heavy task as in trying to stay in place as she ‘moves’ on his lap cough-)

The knot at my chest has already come undone, and the thin string sways and jumps between us, but my attention is snatched away by his kisses and breath.

Amidst the dense sound of water, my own voice gradually fades into the distance, only leaving the sound of his voice.

Lucien: I’m more than willing to gradually prove my every demand and desire for you.

[Lux’s rambling corner]

This MQ has NO RIGHT to be this good :""""""". From fulfilling a college romance dream to Lucien learning how to receive love and show weakness, it's just *sobs* so fucking good. Even without all the, yanno, I'd get this karma in a heartbeat even if it's expensive af to raise. Whether it's the art, new features, or the plot, I think it's worth the expensive price. This MQ in essence is about how Lucien, because of his 'abnormal' past has a hard time trusting others with his burdens and showing them his vulnerability, but through this MQ, he learns that since now he's no longer alone, he can share them with MC. I want to quickly talk about some highlight and plot of this MQ.

The first half starts with them kind of role-playing campus life. Little scenes like a feeling of having bf from a different department, or getting caught making out by his professor, or skipping class for yanno, they're really cute LOL. And yet, this seemingly cute part already laid the groundwork for what was about to come.

We get introduced to his professor Dr. Lawson, and I think the way Lucien interacts with him is an image of how he handles interpersonal relationships, he obviously cares (on this MQ, he did help the professor to cool down with his evol) but still put some distance and is indifferent. MC is the only exception, the only person that he allowed to get into his world. The way Lucien’s acts around MC puzzles Dr. Lawson who’s used to see him being serious in his study and indiferent around other people.

In this MQ, we also get glimpses of his college year. It’s... sad that he never really enjoy life before he meets her :”. He probably content with that kind of life but... can you really call that ‘living’? Which is why I’m glad that in this MQ he got a chance to know the ‘feels’ to be in college. To slow down and enjoy life instead of keep walking faster.

But when self-preservation becomes etched in one's marrow and melds into an instinct, it feels a bit lonely.

In the past, Lucien's survive and fight on his own. Unforeseen events are burdensome because he has had to endure them alone. Consequently, he instinctively tries to maintain control over everything, striving to prevent accidents and unexpected situations from occurring in the first place (the self-preservation that melds into instinct). This mindset, however, makes it harder for him to accept that there are things beyond his control. So when he experiences heatstroke, his first instinctive reaction is to deny it.

Besides that, there are also another reasons why he deny the heatstroke, he didn’t want to worry her and to spend time with her. I think for him, time is very precious because he knows very well how fleeting time can be, and maybe that is just me, but sometimes he gives off vibes as if he’s running out of time.

In his eyes, there seemed to be a surging tide, and the darkening night in the distance seemed to slowly seep into them.

After a long while, he let out a deep sigh and gently traces my face with his fingertips.

“So... it's because you're here.”

After the initial refusal, Lucien begins to carefully examine the situation. Gradually, he comes to a realization that one of the underlying reasons he "allowed" himself to fall sick this time is because he subconsciously feels safe in MC's presence. He instinctively trusts her with his vulnerabilities and needs, subconsciously recognizing that for once he doesn't have to shoulder the burden alone, because when two people care for each other, they can share the burden and support one another. This realization marks a significant shift in Lucien's perspective and his willingness to let someone else be there for him.

“If I were to say that I like it when you care about me when I'm sick, or when all you see is me, and when you think about me in every situation... would you be unhappy?”

“If I were to say that because of you, I allow myself to become slow-witted and greedy, would it be difficult for you?”

“If I were to say that the most beautiful things appeared in my life because of something I never dared to do, or something that had long been forgotten by me…”

“What kind of expression would you show me then?”

Even though they’re questions, they feel like declarations of love, with his deep voice mingling with the moist breath.

Lucien whispers softly, yet it's enough to make my heart tremble.

“Why do I crave your answer so much…”

“And why do I believe that you can fulfill all my needs and wishes?”

Something that he never dared to, or had long forgotten is to share his burden with other people and allow them to see his vulnerable side, or perhaps ‘becoming humans’. 'If I allowed myself to be weak in front of you, would you be okay with that? Is it okay for me to receive your love and care, taking it for granted?' He craves her answer, for the reassurance that it's okay for him to continue living like this.

“...Don't you know the answers to these questions?”

“I know. And it seems like I've accepted this fact... faster than I had imagined.”

“I allow myself to be by your side without any burdens.”

“You make me feel safe.”

It feels like a kind of sublime surrender, gently encroaching upon the depths of my soul.

It makes me surrender the same heart in return.

In fact, he already knows that the answer is a resounding yes. MC already assures him that she is willing to fulfill his every demand and desire. With this realization, he understands that he doesn't have to bear everything alone in front of her, his safe haven. So he allows himself to be by her side without burden. To trust her with his wishes, demands, and desires, to show her his most vulnerable side, it's him surrendering his whole heart to her and his declaration of love.

ALSO, a little bit out of topic but this date kind of reminds me of S2 ch 28 you know, the one where Lucien tried to hide the wound on his back from MC by stripping. There’s a quote that I like from the scene when MC found Lucien in bloody mess and being just as stubborn. “On that light gray road, I wanted to touch the heart that hadn’t been delivered.” And I think this MQ is how he finally delivers his heart to MC on its entirety, marking another growth and change from him.

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 26

When all else fails go with the old standby:

So The Immortal is getting real tired of all of Monkey's tricks, and tells him he will never be able to escape from him until he restores the tree. When Monkey hears this though he's just like 'You just want the tree restored? Well why didn't you just say so! It could have totally saved all of us the hassle. pfft I can totally fix that tree.' Says Wukong despite currently having no idea how to fix that tree. Despite this however The Immortal believes he will be able to do it, so Sun Wukong is able to negotiate his masters release. And the Immortal even says he'll take a bond of brotherhood with Wukong if he succeeds.

So the pilgrims are all untied, and while Sandy and Tripitaka wonder how he's going to pull this off, Pigsy is just convinced he's going to leave them all to die. So they all go and ask Monkey about his plans on how to revive the tree and he tells them he plans to go on a grand tour of the eastern ocean to meet all the immortals there to see if any of them know a cure. Tripitaka asks how long that will take, and Monkey estimates three days. So Tripitaka says that's all fine and dandy as long as he returns in three days, but if he doesn't then he will start reciting the Tight Fillet Sutra.

So Sun Wukong takes his leave, but not before threatening the Great Immortal to take care of Tripitaka while he's gone, because if he doesn't, he'll be back to poke more holes in his pans and stick around to harass them. His first stop is Penglai to meet up with the three stars of Longevity, Blessing and Wealth respectively, who are currently playing a game of chess. When they see Sun Wukong however they stop their game to greet him and ask him what he's doing here. Word on the street is that he's supposed to be accompanying the Tang Monk after all.

So Monkey tells them ran into a little trouble the Abby of Five Villages, which the stars are very concerned to hear about since that is the Zhenyuan Great Immortal's domain, who is an immortal that outranks them. And are even more horrified to learn that Monkey ate the ginseng fruit. And are even *more* horrified to learn that he then uprooted the tree. Anyways, Monkey then tells them that he heard a saying that 'the cure comes from the seas' so he's here to ask if they have a way to revive the tree. After the stars are done freaking out about the mess he's gotten himself into, they explain that while they could revive some normal creature, healing such a tree is beyond their abilities.

Monkey is displeased to hear this, not because he doesn't think it's possible, just that it might take a bit longer then the three days he promised Tripitaka, and he really doesn't want to have to deal with a migraine while trying to sort this out. The Star of Longevity suggests that the three of them pay the Zhenyaun immortal a little visit and explain the situation to Tripitaka to buy Monkey more time.

So the three stars go to the Abby, and Pigsy in particular is excited to see the Star of Longevity again. So the immortals explain why they are there and Tripitaka agrees not to recite the tight fillet spell. And with that taken care of, Pigsy proceeds to mess around with the stars and we cut back to Monkey.

So Monkey has just arrived at Fangzhang Mountain and he is there to meet with The Grand Thearch. Monkey once again recites his business, only to be once again told that there is no cure here. It's the same story at his next destination the island of Yingzhou where he talks to the Nine Elders, they once again tell him they have no cure, but they at least offer some refreshments for him, which was nice of them.

After that Monkey finally finds himself once again at Guanyin's place. While there Monkey runs into a familiar face, it's the Black Bear monster he beat up back when during the cossack incident! And he's actually been doing really well for himself as a guardian for Guanyin. Good to know there are no hard feelings. So the bear takes him to Guanyin, and she asks how the journey has been going, despite already knowing exactly how it's going. She still makes sure to scold him when he tells her about his mishaps at Abbey of Five villages. And considering the immortal he offended is the patriarch of all earthbound immortals who outranks even her, that's fair.

Luckily for Monkey however, Guanyin does indeed have the cure, and she (and me) wonders why he didn't just go to her first... Anyways turns out that the sweet dew in her vase can heal divine tree's. And she's even tested this out before when she made a bet with Laozi. He took her willow trig and used his brazier to completely dry it out and char it and then gave it back to her. She placed it in her vase, and after one day and night it was good as new. So cure in hand, Guanyin leaves with Monkey to go back to The Immortal.

Meanwhile, the Great Immortal is chatting up the three stars until Sun Wukong drops down in order to announce the Bodhisattva's presence, and everyone rushes out to great her. When all the pleasantries are out of the way, Monkey says the Great Immortal should give thanks to Guanyin because she's going to heal his tree. The Immortal asks why she should concern herself with Monkey's affairs, but Guanyin just explains that the Tang Monk is her disciple, so he and all of *his* disciples are her problem.

With that said they all head to the tree, which is lying on the ground roots exposed. Guanyin then has Monkey giver her his hand and she uses her dew to draw a reviving charm on his palm. She then has him place his hand at the root of the tree and watch for water spurting out. Once it does she instructs him to push the tree back upright and use a jade ladle to pour water from the top down. When the tree is revived it blossoms with 33 ginseng fruits, which is even more then they had before.

Pleased with the addition the Great Immortal uses the golden mallet to knock down ten of the fruits and they have a little banquet. Guanyin, the three stars, The Great Immortal, Monkey, Pigsy and Sandy all have a fruit, and seeing it's safe even Tripitaka has one this time. And the last fruit was divided amongst the other residents of the Abby. After that Guanyin and the Three stars head home, and the Great Immortal keeps his promise and becomes bond brothers with Sun Wukong.

As everyone settles in for a sleepover, we end this chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years. Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, and object transformation. Demon Kill Count: 4+ Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 6 God's Defeated: 19 + Unknown number Defeats: 3 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing and violating Tree Law. Cry Count: 3 Mountains Trapped Under: 1

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization and Heart Sutra. Cry Count: 15 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 5 Paralyzed by fear: 4 Bandit Problems: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 2 Falling Off Horses: 5

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, and flight. Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 1

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater and cloud soaring. Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 3 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping and arson.

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, and desecration of a human corpse.

[brightymir]

𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 "𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨" 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐎𝐓 / 𝐒𝐍𝐊 [𝐝𝐫]

》 contains: manga spoilers, misspellings

》 genre: angst

》 characters: eren, mikasa, armin, levi, hange x gn!reader

》 wc: ±1k

》 author's notes: hehehe i told u guys i'll have something up before my birthday! this one's not fluff though, but i hope i'll have inspiration to write for fluff soon. i think it's the lack of crush but yes. i bought a new book so i might disappear for a few days too. notes and reblogs are appreciated! hope you enjoy this >\\<

— italicized : reader || — red : both

❀ eren jaeger

: but i love you...

: so?

: please let me-

: go.

— you knew well from the get go that it was difficult to love this man, it would not be easy making your way into his heart. he did not give even the slightest chance nor leeway for you to wriggle into his romantic life, and did not glance your way twice.

but you refused to give him up so easily. someone like eren jaeger was like a diamond in the rough, a once in a lifetime. he made you feel so many things that he did not even know he was making you feel, and that only added to the pounding feeling in your chest.

however to him, you were nothing but a pawn he could use, someone foolish enough to sacrifice their life for him so he could achieve his pursuit of freedom. all you were to him was a little idiot who was blinded by love, stupid enough to fall for him.

or so you thought.

he's a lot of things. the founding titan, the attack titan, the warhammer titan, the hope of eldia, the hero of paradis. and above all, the man you love.

and you? you're a soldier, a member of the regiment, quite strong but not so strong, an insignificant someone who was willing to give up your life for him.

however you're not omniscient.

and you can never know that he was only pushing you away for your own sake.

you can never know that he'll orchestrate the biggest crime in the world and paint him as the villain, you as the hero.

you can never know that his eyes always looks for you amidst the sea of green coats embroidered with dual-colored wings.

you can never know his true intentions, his true feelings, his true thoughts.

because nobody knows what's inside of him.

that's how it's always been. and that's how it will always be.

so, go. leave and turn your back on him. because he is humanity's greatest enemy. he is an abomination to the world.

go. leave and turn your back on him. because he is the man that you love. he is the boy who sought freedom.

and between freedom and you? pfft. isn't it obvious which one he'll choose?

❀ mikasa ackerman

: but-

: i love you, so-

: please let me go

— she was one of a kind, figuratively and literally. she always seemed aloof from the world and almost non-existent, yet she is very well aware of everyone's dilemma. and you, little soldier, and your feelings are acknowledged by her as well.

even your other colleagues has their eyes set on her, but it seemed that the woman was only there for her friends, only there to protect them. and although people berated the scouts and called you guys "all muscles and no brain", it wouldn't take too long to see that the girl only has her affection reserved for someone.

she does not know how to deal with the affection and admiration she receieves from others, and often just turns a blind eye to such matters. she, after all, knows better than to give away false hope and motives to other people. her indifference and aloofness, however, pulls you in even more.

and you're not one to give up so easily.

she was so many things. an ackerman, a descendant of the shogun, the hope of hizuru, a strong veteran of the regiment, a big sister to everyone, the woman you love.

and silly little you. a recruit from the garrison, was too afraid to venture beyond the walls, throws up after shooting someone to death. the very opposite of her.

though indifferent, she avoids loose ends all the time.

the most she can do is turn you down as politely as she can, choosing her words carefully.

all she can do is to try to push you away when you persist and throw yourself at her.

all she can do is to avoid contact with you and turn the other side when she sees you across the hall.

all she can do is pretend that you no longer exist in her eyes and that all you are to her is a comrade, for that is all you'll ever be to her.

because her eyes, heart, and soul are for someone else.

that's how it's always been. and that's how it will always be.

please let her go. set her free from the heavy burden of your admiration for her. in the first place, she's not responsible for those feelings.

let her go. are you damn blind and can't see that she'll never reciprocate that love?

it's not a matter of accepting the feelings. it's a matter of whose feelings she'll accept.

❀ armin arlert

: i love you

: so please-

: let me go

— it has been years since the genocide, and armin was doing great at his job as a diplomat. slowly but surely redeeming paradis and eldia, continuing the peace talks with other nations of the world and building a desirable place for the next generations.

and he comes home in his house in shiganshina, exhausted and fatigued from all the events and meetings. he closes his eyes and lets the tears fall as he cries out your name, voice cracking to a sob, head buried in his hands as he keeps on weeping.

his reddened eyes sweep over the room and looks for any lingering presence of you. your coat and uniform still neatly hung in the rack. your boots kept clean inside a box. your cape folded neatly and kept in a glass frame.

he's not one to forget so quickly.

he used to be the colossal titan, is the 15th commander of the regiment, is the diplomat representing the island of paradis. he's the man who still longs for you.

you were a veteran like him, a strong and righteous soldier, a brave and driven comrade, a caring friend to all. you're the person who perished in the battlefield, fighting for humanity.

he's a manipulator, being manipulated by his feelings.

he remembers you clear as day, so warm like the sand beneath his feet the first time he saw the ocean.

remembers you so sweetly, like the ice cream you two shared during your first visit in marley.

remembers you dearly, like the nights you spent at solace and peace, like the calm before the storm.

remembers you so happily, like the day you said yes to his proposal and planned a future for the both of you. a future robbed from the two of you.

fate is such a cruel and mean thing, especially to him.

that's how it's always been. and that's how it will always be.

but he can't let you go though. he definitely cannot, not when you live so vividly in his memories, shining brightly like the way the ocean reflects the sunlight.

he can't let you go, with your eyes so soft and full of love in the photo you two took before hell broke loose; that photo framed and placed on his bedside table.

he can never let go, not when you haunt him so lovingly that you're almost his drug.

❀ levi ackerman

: but i love you

: so?

: please let me go

— humanity's strongest soldier isn't the strongest at everything, rather, he has times of vulnerability and weakness. often, it was in his confinement and when he's all by himself, when no one is around to witness such an embarrassing side of him.

the side of him who still yearns for you, your presence and existence — which vanished long ago in the war. it was funny really, that he, who never wanted to walk this path, is the last one to be standing. standing atop a tall mountain of the corpses of his comrades and friends.

he's the one to live a peaceful and serene, quiet life, all thanks to the sacrifice and devotion of other scouts. especially yours. he could never seem to just get rid of you in his mind, you were always lingering there, eager to bother him.

he fell and sank deeper into the abyss called you.

he's levi ackerman, humanity's strongest soldier, a reliable veteran of the regiment, a captain of a squad. he's the man you love, be it when you were breathing and until in the afterlife.

you were a veteran like him, fighting alongside each other, growing tougher as you clawed your way to the top to survive and stand atop the pile of corpses of your comrades.

he's so strong, yet so weak. just a pair of broken shoes.

he had to be drunk on something, what a joke that he also adapted the mindset of his uncle.

he's drunk on something, on your lingering scent and the echoes of your voice even though it was never really there

he's drunk on you, the way you enter his dreams and asking him to let you go and let you rest in peace.

he's drunk on his hallucinations, the false images of you in the kitchen, the garden, the living room. the false warmth he thought he feels in the cold of the night.

you were a liquor he'd gladly take everyday instead of water.

that's how it's always been. and that's how it will always be.

so, don't bother pleading him to let you go and set you free. he didn't beg you to stay, so don't expect him to set you free so easily. he's drunk on you.

and though the love you have to give is a lot and overwhelming, he simply can't take it as an incentive for letting you go, no.

you'll always live in his mind, even if all you are is a smoky haze induced by a liquor.

❀ hange zoë

: but i love you so

: please let me go

— a few months following the reclaim of wall maria, the scout regiment had been busy with a lot of things and missions and naturally, a lot of pressure fell onto hange's shoulders. and you, a veteran like her, had the responsibility of assisting in various tasks.

paradis gradually opened to the world, the same way hange's heart began to bloom feelings for you. perhaps it was the way you two spent the most time together, or it was the two of you who had the biggest sense of responsibility. either way, she did not deny that sensation.

the shift in her treatment towards you did not go unnoticed. she went out of her ways so many time for the sake of your convenience and comfort. even making subtle gestures to proclaim her romantic intentions for you, so often that a person might be blind if they don't see how much she loves you.

however, her affection and advances were overwhelming.

she's only so much. the 14th commander of the scout regiment, the titan freak, the smartest person in paradis. the woman who loves you.

and you? just another veteran who stood beside hange and aided her with her every call for assistance. someone righteous and did not bow down to others when it came to her safety.

with that, a realization struck you while doing paperwork.

she doesn't love you. she loves the memory of him in you.

she loves the way you always stand tall and dominating when facing other people, just the way he did.

she loves the way you stop her from doing something foolish she might regret soon, just the way he did.

she loves the way you never looked down on her despite her craziness when it involves titans, just the way he did.

she loves the way you remain humble and keep a low profile whenever it involves her, but never hesistant when you know she's being taken advantage for. the way she is your utmost priority, just the way he did.

you were a living memory of him, a glimpse of them.

that's how it's always been. and that's how it will always be.

you always silently plead for her to let you go and just see you as yourself, not because you mirror someone she treasured so much.

you know how much hange relied on him, but it was way too unfair that she only made these advances when it was too late. she only loves the image of him in you.

so if she won't let you go, then you will.

you charged at the horde of colossal titans, buying them some time to get the aircraft going.

hopefully, she can let you go now.

© 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐑 2022 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms without permission. thank you.

[babybluesquid]

Consequences of Karrnath Session 26

A Hesitance Before Resuscitation

Our Players this week:

Dagne, Vengeance Paladin, an undead soldier created by the Odakyr Rites, but is now something else entirely. They are a Seeker sworn to protect the living. Has a skeleton horse mount from Find Steed named Coffin. They are the party leader and reluctantly serve under King Kaius III. Can be abrasive and dishonest, but they are ultimately kind.

Vaeren, Swarmkeeper Ranger, a blind Deathguard sent to investigate Dagne’s nature. They keep a spirit idol with five spirits of dead Deathguard: Galan, Kerxna, Paeral, Aelrie, and Nym, who can allow them to see, but from a third person point of view. They’re contemplative and disciplined, helping Dagne keep the party in line.

Syv, Glamour Bard, a traveling performer turned traveling adventurer. Her personas are Eshi, a sea elf, and Star, a shifter. They’re generally positive with a bit of a mischievous streak and hold a strong sense of justice, especially where they see discrimination against changelings. She is generally supportive of the whole group, emotionally and in combat.

Evakhal, Zealot Barbarian, a mysterious half-orc Gaash’kala who joined the party due to his visions of the future where they stop a powerful servant of an Overlord.

“Alright,” Nik says, smacking the wall. The golden portal opens again, “I’ll drop you off in Khorvaire, in Karrnath, not in immediate danger.” He ushers Seven through, passing some magic onto the warforged as he steps beyond the portal. “Where?” Dagne asks. “Kind of up north near Coldport,” he pats their back, “go through.” In that moment, weary, Dagne just steps through the portal to the other side. The others follow, but Nik stops Syv, “by the way, being friends wasn’t a scheme. It wasn’t just a part of my cover, or to manipulate you. I do actually like you.” Syv looks at him oddly, unsure how to feel, “okay.” She heads through the portal.

The party emerges in the evening at a fork in a trade road. To the north is Coldport, to the south is practically everywhere else. Still, it’s faster to take the lighting rail from Coldport than to travel on foot, and with Inesa after the party, they opt for the northern road. Even though it’s nighttime when the party arrives, the city is not yet asleep. Some people go about their business still, the docks are still active, and people seem unconcerned by the dark. Dagne suggests going to a bar. Vaeren says no, but they’re overruled by the rest of the party, so the group heads down to the Hidden Hammer. The same dwarven barkeep claps when she spots the party entering, warmly greeting the returned patrons.

The Hidden Hammer is filled with its usual assortment of locals and strangers. At one table, a group of humans, half-orcs, and orcs, wearing a mish-mash of Marcher and Q’barran clothing, gamble over a pot of Eberron dragonshards. At the head of the table, a half-orc with the Mark of Finding on his face, the prospector, seems to be overseeing the game. At another table, a strange, large humanoid site. They have bluish skin and sharp teeth, and they wear strange clothes and carry a curved sword at their belt. Beside them, a big warforged stands and converses with them.

“So,” Syv turns to Dagne, “drinking game?” Dagne produces a deck of cards from their bag, “sure.” The two take their seats and drag Vaeren over to be the arbiter of the game. Then, the card game begins. Syv looks at her hand, it’s bad, she smiles though as she plays a risky move. Dagne is unable to see through the deception, so they play a safe defense. Vaeren declares that they must drink. So they take a shot. “You know you’ll lose,” Dagne says, “I have more experience than you.” “Pfft, as if that matters,” Syv replies, “you already know my hand is better than yours.” But Vaeren declares Syv should drink. Next, Syv says, “psst, throw the game.” Dagne sighs, “really?” Vaeren makes them drink.

Dagne realizes that they’re following some book moves, so they begin to play more confidently. Syv realizes that there’s a pattern, but isn’t able to determine what it is. She drinks. Worried, she decides to cheat and peek at Dagne’s cards. It’s too easy. Vaeren catches this and makes Dagne drink for failing to hide them. They decide to put on a show of losing, after all, Syv knows their cards. She buys it, up until a clever reversal of fortune. Stunned, she drinks again. A bit desperate, she cheats again, sneaking some cards around. Dagne doesn’t notice, but Vaeren does and makes them drink for their failure to see the blatant cheating.

Then, Syv decides to distract Dagne with a card trick. It doesn’t work, so Vaeren makes her drink again. Dagne watches her carefully, after all, she’s had a lot already. Meanwhile, Syv still tries to focus on the game. She plays badly, and Vaeren makes her drink again. Dagne channels their Seeker focus into the game. Syv takes a big sip of water before Vaeren makes her drink yet again. She plays another move, “hah,” then turns and throws up. Quickly, Dagne uses restoration magic to counteract the alcohol in her system, then plays a final, winning move. Syv grins as she no longer feels ill, “good game,” then buys Dagne one of those liquored jellies as a prize. No longer bound by the game, Vaeren and Nux head upstairs to eat.

From the street, the faint sounds of a sea shanty approaches. A bunch of sailors of various races, including changelings in first face, descend into the bar. One of the probably changelings in the form of a tiefling woman catches sight of Ev and approaches him, “I’ve not seen armor like that before. You seem like an interesting character.” “Yeah,” he replies, “I took it off a demon I killed.” “You killed a demon?” He shrugs, “it’s my job.” “Are you a templar then?” “A what?” “A soldier of the Church of the Silver Flame,” she explains. “Oh, I guess.” Her face contorts in confusion, “where are you from?” “Demon Wastes.” Confusion becomes shock, “people live up there? How?” “Killing demons and raiding demiplanes,” Evakhal replies simply.

Having fully confused her, Evakhal spots Dagne, now sitting alone. He approaches and places his hand on their shoulder and smiles, “don’t worry, there’s a plan for you.” “Thanks,” they say contemptuously. “I had a vision we killed the Shadow Sword and lived.” Dagne sighs, “I’m not exactly concerned that Nik is lying. We’ll win, but at what cost?” “We’ll win,” he shrugs. “I need more drinks.” “Alright,” Ev places down some money. “I feel exhausted and trapped. I must perform my role in the prophecy, but I’m in the dark about it. I can’t confront this on my own terms, I’m being used.” “Yes, but you know you’re gonna live and you know you are doing good.” “There are worse outcomes than my own destruction,” Dagne states glumly. Unsure how to confront that, Ev just orders another shot for Dagne and wanders off.

Meanwhile, Syv spots Kalina Soria of the Grey Tide and approaches the pirate captain, “hey.” “Hello,” Kalina responds, “by the way, if you want to talk to the same one, that was Tisk. I’m Jax, I’m captain sometimes.” “Oh,” she blushes, “sorry.” “It’s alright,” Kalina responds, “shared personas can confuse even other changelings.” Kalina leads Syv to Tisk. “Hey Tisk,” Syv greets. “Hi again Syv. I remember you. What have you been up to since we last talked?” It’s a lot, Syv is silent for a moment, “we killed a dinosaur, Killing Cold, and my girlfriend broke up with me.” “That sucks. What’s the Killing Cold?” Syv actually isn’t quite sure, “it’s like this demon bitch. It tried to kill us.” “Good thing you’re still alive then,” Tisk places her hand on Syv’s shoulder. She goes red as Tisk continues, “really too bad that Inesa got back out. I’m glad we didn’t transport her, she’s trouble.” “We’re trying to find her.” Tisk nods her approval, “I’ve learned more about the Red Watchers on these northern runs, I don’t like them.”

The conversation lulls for a bit, before suddenly Tisk says, “you’re an adorable drunk. Most people I know aren’t cute drunk. They come ashore and go wild.” Syv laughs, “thanks.” “So,” she scoots closer, “who was your girlfriend?” “Her name was Ro. She was in the party with us. She’s really nice. But then she left and I’m really sad. I miss her.” Tisk pulls Syv into a hug, resting her head on her shoulder, causing Syv to tear up. “Sounds like an idiot to leave. You’re a great person and, like I said, adorable,” Tisk pats Syv on the back. “Yeah, fuck her. I don’t need her. I never needed her, I’m good on my own.” “You shouldn’t have too much trouble finding another girl.” Awkwardly, Syv replies, “so true.” “That is is,” Tisk whispers, “you starting to feel better?” “Maybe a little.” She smiles, “it seems she’s doubly the fool to leave after what you showed me last time.” Momentarily, Syv is shocked, then she kisses Tisk. The two abscond.

A bit later, Vaeren heads back down to record the party to an inn. They ask where Syv went, and Ev reports that she left with a friend. Annoyed, Vaeren rounds up the rest of the group into one room, so they’ll all be within view. Eventually though, everyone is asleep and Vaeren trances. Dagne, alone, is up. Presently, they see the door open, and Dagne walks into the room. No, they remove their helmet, revealing Iura Josan’s face. Dagne draws their sword.

“Get back,” they warn, “why are you using that face?” “I’m not a changeling. I’m not entirely here, see,” he explains, striking Dagne. The blow has no impact, no feeling at all. Dagne does not lower their blade, “who are you?” “I’m Iura Josan, of course, haunting you or something like that.” “You’re dead.” “That may be so, but you should know that death is not necessarily the end of all.” “Why are you here?” Iura sighs, “I’ve been watching what you’re up to and I’m very disappointed by your recent performance. You seem to have lost your grasp of tactics. Remember, pick your battles, do not fight on ground of your enemy’s choosing, minimize risk. You would’ve been destroyed and your allies would have died, it was only by chance that you were saved. A Commander who leads his subordinated to their deaths is unworthy of command.”

Angrily, Dagne responds, “you’re one to talk.” Iura Josan’s expression fills with outrage, “do you even remember my command? I picked you up as an undead. My living soldiers were treated well and I kept them out of fanger. That’s why I always threw your lot to the wolves. Undead have no families to come back to, no children to mourn them, no lives to live. I wanted to keep my men alive, that’s why I used my tactics and tricks, something you’ve clearly forgotten since you led your friends to their deaths.” “You would’ve killed Inesa in that alley,” Dagne accuses. He shrugs, “I would’ve. You should’ve too. You’re blinded by idealism. You should kill. If you’re not going to fight at your most effective to stop your enemies from returning, you should stop fighting. You’re absurd, even Seeker soldiers know that on the field, it’s kill or be killed. If you were still flesh and blood, you’d be dead many times over. Eventually, someone is going to pay for your actions, and it won’t be you.”

“You’re wasting your time. I already know that,” they say bitterly. “If you recognize your errors, you have to correct them,” he responds icily, “stop being a fool. The enemy would never return your courtesy.” “Ivis,” Dagne says simply. Iura is silent for a long moment, “you do understand the extraordinary nature of that interaction, don’t you?” Ivis’ actions were the fault of his commanding officer. You need to treat your subordinates well. And you were lucky, an enemy turning could be a ruse, therefore, you need to turn them away or kill them. You can’t let one case blind you to the reality of the world. I know you’re upset that you killed many in the war without them deserving or a choice, but that’s caused you to act irrationally. Accept it and move on. You should’ve just let Inesa bleed out.”

That sets Dagne off, “she’s a kid, Iura Josan, a radicalized kid who ought to be saved, not killed. I won’t rob her of the opportunity to learn and live. Such an action is abhorrent. Yes, she has killed, but so have I.” “What do you think Inesa’s doing right now?” He asks. “Probably scrambling to figure out where I went.” “What do you think that little army of hers has been doing? Where do you think she’ll bring the Red Watchers under her leadership? Inese’s not just a kid, she’s dangerous. I’ll have you recall that she got into Rekkanmark with perfect marks. She’s going to keep amassing power until someone stops her, and there is only one way to do that for sure.” “And I won’t be the one to do it,” Dagne replies stubbornly. Iura sighs, “at least don’t throw yourself into death again. Remember, there are no pacifist warriors, they’re all dead.”

In the morning, Syv returns, a bit hungover but still beaming. “Have fun?” Vaeren asks sarcastically. “Yeah, did you have fun with your friend?” Evakhal’s question is genuine. Syv nods, grinning, “oh yeah.” “That’s good,” Ev says. Dagne receives a telepathic message from ZarShara of the Dreambreaker Covenant. They’re by the South Gate of Coldport. The party heads over and exchanges news. Bartholomew tells the party that his group succeeded, while Vaeren informs him of their own party's failure. He offers words of encouragement before the two parties split ways again.

Dagne decides the party ought to head to Atur, so they take the lightning rail down. As soon as they arrive, they start walking to Nenad’s house. But then, they feel a strange buzz in their skull. All of a sudden, the street bursts into a panic. People scream, “the undead have turned on us!” The party rushes towards the disturbance, finding a group of five Karrnathi undead soldiers, tearing their way through the streets, killing all those who get in the way.

The party approaches. “Civilian, vacate our path,” one of the undead commands. “No, I don’t think we will,” Syv responds. “Civilian, vacate our path or face lethal consequences,” four of the undead point their halberds at the party, the fifth nocks an arrow. “Who gave you permission to use lethal force against civilians?” Dagne demands. “We are not under orders to answer questions from civilians.” “I am Commander Iura Josan,” Dagne reiterates, “who ordered you to do this?” “Iura Josan has no authority. Iura Josan, Dagne, designation: enemy. Orders on sight: capture, kill companions, return Dagne alive, not destroyed. Please come with me.” Shaken by the reply, Dagne steels themselves, “not a chance. Destroy them.” “Negative,” the undead watch the party draw weapons, “combat begins, lethal force against all except Dagne.”

Syv plucks a quick tune on her kalima, causing faerie fire to envelope the undead. Three manage to dodge, one reporting, “mage identified. Faerie fire employed.” With the skeletons illuminated, Dagne approaches and targets one in particular, bashing it thrice as fails to deflect with its halberd. Another skeleton advances on them to protect its ally, leading with a stabbing thrust. It then catches the halberd’s hook at the back of Dagne’s helmet, dragging them forward, before releasing and stabbing up under their visor. Meanwhile, the undead archer aims directly for Syv’s head. She barely dodges an arrow headed for her forehead, but a second arrow gashes her arm. The third strikes her chest! It buries deep into her armor, piercing the flesh underneath.

Recognizing the danger posed by the archer, Vaeren places a hunter’s mark on it and then fires. Their sunbow, Oathbreaker, creates two arrows of light which blacken its bones. Kerxna, Nym, and Aelrie emerge from the spirit idol to attack as well, and they cut it to pieces with their blades. It falls, dead in an explosion of sunlight. Ev calls upon his rage and runs between the undead and Dagne. He strikes one so hard with a downward swing of his warhammer that it’s skull is pulverized in its crumpled helmet and its bones shatter against the cobblestones, dead. He follows up with a sideways swing to another, outlined in pink faerie fire. He cracks its ribcage and strikes again, burying the back spike into the side of the thing’s helmet, easily punching through the metal and destroying its skull. It dies as well. However, as soon as the three skeletons are dispatched, four more rush in from a side street, “allies under attack. Must reinforce.”

——————

Highlights:

The drinking game was a contested skill challenge and let me tell you, it was glorious to justify athletics and religion as skills.

Ev’s heart-to-heart with Dagne about fate was cute. He really tried his best to make them feel better. Too bad he’s intensely awkward.

Syv met Kalina Soria, that is, Tisk, again! I love it when old NPCs return and how easily my DM slips back into their disused voices. Hilarious that Syv called Ro her ex-girlfriend though.

Vaeren playing babysitter to the carousing party was also fun. Their complete annoyance that Syv absconded with Tisk was amusing.

Iura Joasn came back from Dolurhh just to roast Dagne. Sobbing. Not to mention how funny it is that Dagne impersonating him this time went south immediately.

Dagne this time really was avoiding the problem. Moral ambiguity and fate and difficult pills for them to swallow. Much easier to ignore that, carouse, and kill undead.

Session 27.

[d3adendssinmymind]

Cleanliness is Godliness

For @deathnotetober

Day 22: Disguise

Beyond is a chameleon through and through. 

Lawlight, BxL, one-sided

-

The young man stared at his reflection that wasn’t quite right, but wasn’t exactly wrong either. He bit his lip, colored with the juices of cherries and tilted his head just so. He had to nail this.  

The perfection.

The precision.

The pain in the beauty.  

He was vain and pretty, a sight for sore eyes, burned by artificial light. His honey-colored bangs swept across his forehead in waves. Not one hair laid out of place, it looked like a wax sculpture. A ken doll wig that shouldn’t have been that flawlessly preened, but that’s what the role called for.

The stink of dye made his nostrils flare and his eyes water. God, how did people deal with this?  

It was all for a greater purpose, he supposed. His purpose, which was greater than all.  

Why did he love him? What was it about this that touched him? He sniffed, he couldn’t see how a painting painted this prettily could be so endearing. If anything, the pretentiousness tied with the unfathomable grotesqueness of his overblown pride was sickening, it left a bad taste in his mouth as if he had just thrown up and swallowed back down the bile.  

He thought he was God.

As if God, whoever he was, was a model for a gap magazine.  

He blinked, eyes filling with tears as his nail scraped a cornea and his clumsy index finger adjusted a scratchy contact lens. Hadn’t his beau been partial to dark eyes, darker than the bottom of the sea, hiding untold dangers and secrets and stories of monsters? Pfft, perhaps he just liked the fact that these irises were so light that his own gleaming beauty was reflected right back towards him. He savored his own shortcomings; he saw them as a token of his suffering rather than just plain old heartbreak that mean nothing and amounted to squat.

They were both such hungry, green-eyed narcissistic monsters, and maybe that’s why they loved each other. They shared a kinship. They loved themselves so much so they grew to love the reflection they saw within the other. Nothing was original with these bastards.  

But he felt left out.

His contorted cheeks contorted into the mask of someone who wasn’t quite there, who wasn’t even a real fucking person in the first place.

They were unnatural, unreal, not human in the slightest for their own quest for evil had diminished their humanity long ago.  

But if he was to be fair, which he hardly ever was, he didn’t quite have a leg to stand on. Really, it was unfair of him to hurl such harmful insults to this face. It wasn’t like he was original; he was a shadow of someone else’s shadow. He was a xerox of a xerox. He dressed up as others to be liked more, to fit in with different crowds, in the desperate hope that a new face would be the ultimate cure for loneliness. The ever-consuming loneliness that never left.

It gnawed and clawed, leaving scars embedded deep in the tainted marrow of his bones.  

Those bones carved with ancient secrets that he may have made up, or that only reached him because he was the only person who was willing to hear them.  

Whatever. He adjusted his turtle neck to hide the purpling hickey besmirching his pale neck he had painted a tanned olive.  

He looked exactly like him, but there was something missing.  

There had been a twinkle in his eye when he had first saw him, what had it been again.

Ah, right. A lover's passion.

He could hear lovebirds cooing, he’d have to invite crows in to eat them alive.  

Love, love, love...

What a pesky, foolish, thoughtless, pointless jumble of words.

He hoped one day soon it would be his.

Gods were loved, right?  

Beyond smirked, glowing internally upon realizing he had finally nailed Light Yagami’s insufferable rapturous grin of self-satisfied torment. Putting on L’s skin had been fun for a while, but he was hungry for new blood.

And he figured that if L couldn’t love himself, maybe he would love Light.  

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Finally finished this! Sorry I’m a bit late.

Made this song in pairing with a new Revalink soulmark fic: Paraphrase

Based on a prompt @motherhyrule (Happy Birthday and thanks!)

Read it on AO3 or, here...

Chapter 1: Holes

There were holes in the sky.

While the artificial blue glow of Vah Medoh was a constant reminder of abnormal circumstances of this view—looking out into the east, you could be fooled for a moment to believe in serenity.

The details of the great, inky abyss were blurred by the occasional grey cloud, crawling towards the light of a decaying moon. Its pale, crescent complexion gave a humble glow to the dancing seas of grass and the motionless hills of glistening lake water. Below, wooden huts embraced one another on the edges of an ancient spire. The winds had crafted a fine sculpture, the unique silhouette of Rito Village cast faint shadows on Lake Totori.

There was distant whistling from either the cutting breeze or a bored village guard, perhaps leaning against his spear, dreaming of slumber.

There's a fire, somewhere. A spiral of smoke rises with a delicious aroma fantastic enough to reach the heights of Medoh. Someone making a late-night stew, under the dotted, broken sky.

If you could tear your eyes away from the nature down below, the navy blue canvas would still be there to greet you—a perfect night that cloaked any traces of the sun, as if time was always meant to be this way. Unchanging, and ever an elegant, unrivaled mix of blue, black, and grey.

But of course, unchanging was not everlasting. The perfect canvas was pierced by the frozen heights of Hebra, and flaming stars. Whole armies of them were scattered across the sky, as if the goddess had flicked a handful of embers at the night, burning through the blue and into an unknown.

"I heard that stars are actually holes into the heavens." Link finally said. "Like...They break through the sky, and at night you can look through them and see the great beyond." He leaned back, shifting himself into a more comfortable position on the rocky cliff.

The ghost beside him raised an eyebrow, wings tucked behind his back.

"Oh? And where exactly did you hear that?"

Silence.

The boy looks out to the distant mountains, wreathed in grey clouds with filtered moonlight. When the wind blows his golden hair just the right way, you could catch a glimpse of a familiar expression.

"...I'm not too sure."

Revali nodded, looking back into the night. He stood beside the hero, and let a quiet sigh escape him, the turquoise flames that circled around the Rito seemed to rise and fall with his chest. "Well. I cannot confirm or deny such a thing, but I imagine it's a decent enough fairy tale to entertain the fledglings."

Link scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips. "Really? They don't give you a big ghost book on how all of life works? What's the point of being dead if you don't know the answer to all the fancy questions?"

"I appear to have missed Hylia's educational spirit lecture. Perhaps my schedule was busy at the time. I do apologize."

"Don't apologize to me! You're the one who missed a once-in-a-afterlife-time opportunity."

"..."

"...Too soon?"

"No, it was just a horrible joke."

"Pfft. Well OK, Mr. 'Well I'll be plucked'"

"I don't think I'm going to accept criticism from someone who's sense of humor isn't even a year old."

"Aha...Fair enough."

A chuckle. A nod. A smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Silence.

The moon crawls further west. Winds start to die with conversation.

The ghost sighs again, but of course, no breath escapes him. Something itches in the back of his mind, and he looks up at Medoh.

Her phantom blue eyes pierce both mortal and incorporeal, yet there's a tenderness in the way her head tilts towards Revali—every so slightly so as not to wake the whole kingdom with the groan of gears. The gesture is wordlessly understood by her pilot, something about speaking the unspoken. He clicks his tongue.

I don't remember flipping a relationship advice switch in your control unit...

Medoh's lights glow brighter and dim, playfully.

The Rito shakes his head.

No, he thinks again. It's better this way.

The Champion looks out towards Hyrule Castle, Medoh's red laser aimed directly into the heart of the swirling malice. From this view, it’s almost beautiful. Like layered petals of a rose...

I cannot wait to burn it to the ground.

"Yeah..." Link replied. "Don't worry, Revali. It'll be different this time. I won't let you down, again."

The Rito blinked. "Ah. Did I...say that outloud?"

Link nodded, tilting his head to the side with a smile. "You always seem in such deep thought when looking at Medoh. Your face gets a lot more s—uh...I don't know... " He trailed off, making the wise decision to not finish the sentence. Afterall, he wanted to hang out for a little bit longer before Revali's glares punted him to the Akkalain Sea.

Nonetheless, Revali grimaced. Looking at him? Acknowledging him? Oh, there was nothing worse in the world than that...

Time really can change anything.

"Hmph. Well," Revali turned his head back towards Medoh, "With Windblight gone, it's nice to actually have conversations...As unconventional as they may be." He makes sure that his smile can only be seen by the sky.

"She's good company."

Link picks at loose pebbles, tossing them off the cliff and letting gravity take them to new destinations. His hands are already coated in a dusty beige dust.

"Well, if Medoh ever becomes a bore. My schedule's always open." He chuckles. "I'm certainly a different sort of company in comparison, so I should be able to spice up your d—!"

"No."

The iciness of his tone runs Link's spine cold. He dares to look up at the Champion.

It takes all of Revali's strength to continue staring at the stars.

"You should really stop coming here, Link. You have a job to do, and so do I. You gain nothing by returning here each night."

He pauses, his beak clenched just a bit too tightly.

"You did well, avenging me, but now...Your job here is done, and there is more work to do. The fact that you keep visiting each night while the world fades away is pathetic, honestly. You banter and quip as if you have all the time in the world, as if everything doesn't depend on your success. Quit acting childish."

Silence. It drowns out the whistling wind.

Revali looks at the holes in the sky.

"It'll be morning in a few, so get lost. I don't need you here."

The Rito can feel the hero's eyes tearing into him.

= = = = = = =

"Careful now! Can't have you return with half a head. Can I?" Revali loosed an arrow just above Link's head, striking true in a Bokoblin's right eye.

Link whips around just in time to see the monster drop dead, just a foot away from where the knight stood. He turns back and gives the Rito a thumbs up in gratitude.

"Eye think that solves that problem." Link groans and rolls his eyes, but Revali smirks at the grin he attempts to hide. "Ah...One of the best things about these occasions is that you're in no position to quip back at me with your hands full like that." Revali shoots him a wink. "Perhaps I'll interpret your silence as overwhelming awe for my verbal abilities."

The Rito bows left and right, playfully. "Thank you, thank you. It takes a great deal of practice, but perhaps you'll grace my level of skill one day."

Link signs as best he can with the Master Sword in his left grip.

"You're an asshole."

"Perhaps. But it's your fault for sticking around!"

"On your left..." He suddenly says.

There's no hesitation as Revali moves his head out of the way, letting Link swing his sword over his shoulder. A brilliant beam of blue light escapes the edge of his sword, the disc of energy making contact with a Bokoblin's neck, slicing it asunder mid-roar.

"Hmm. Now that's just breath taki—"

"Shut UP!" Link says, knocking an elbow into his ribs. He starts to sign again. "Let's keep heading east. We need to close this pincer quickly. I'd like to finish before lunch..."

The Rito scans the snow covered path, littered with monster guts and blood. Deep reds and purple stain the pristine, crisp morning. The sky is a deep green, pine trees covering the day, dressed in coats of white. The breeze blows the smell of rotting corpses and hickory his way.

"Alright. Let's get a move on. Don't need the Princesses yelling at us again."

"A bit late for that, don't you think?"

The boys both look up in time to see a large burst of water erupt from a nearby cliff. It cascades into a shimmering slide, that freezes as it flows. A bright red Zora flips through the air and descends on it, landing delicately in front of the two. She gives a warm smile that could melt the winter.

"Shall I assume you ran into some chuchu troubles, again?"

Revali scoffed. "That was one time!"

"Hehehe...chuchu go 'sluuurrrp...'"

"Plus, that incident was entirely a certain knight's fault. I've been nothing but incredibly efficient and productive, since then."

"And your tail feathers are all the better for it!"

Revali thwacked Link with his bow to shut him up. The knight rubbed the back of his head with an "Ow..." and shot a rude glare, but the Rito continued. "So where is the Princess?"

Mipha gestured uphill to where she had come from, her magical waterfall already beginning to melt away. "We finished cleaning up the other end of the Tabantha path. She's met up with Urbosa and Daruk by one of the bridges."

The Zora smiles as she looks between Revali and Link. "I volunteered to check on you two while the others headed back. Neither of you need help cleaning chuchu slime out of your hair, yes? I do have the pliers, this time."

Revali's rageful squawk was drowned out by Link's laughter.

Before the trio's banter could truly serenade with the sounds of the forest, Mipha was off to regroup with the others, and Link was soaring in the sky.

The sky was open and clear, not a speck of grey clouded the air. The sun was perched comfortably on the heights of Tabantha ridge, painting the horizon with strokes of orange, the distance blushing in the morning's presence.

The wind flipped Link's hair back and forth, so he finished tying the braid behind his neck, woven tightly with a single, Prussian blue feather. Its tip looked like someone had dipped it in the moon's pale glow.

Braid or no, the heights above Lake Totori were quite cold, and Link nuzzled himself further into Revali's soft feathers. If he were any softer, it wouldn't be out of the question to drown in him.

"You're distracting me." Revali craned his neck back, raising an eyebrow at his passenger. "Keep it together, back there."

The hero shrugged his shoulders. "It's cold."

"I told you to drink another elixir before I took off."

"I wasn't cold then! Besides," He flopped back into the Rito's soft down. "This is adequate protection." Link's words were slightly muffled as he spoke.

Revali sighed. "You're insufferable..."

Eying the destination down below, the Rito rolled his shoulders to get Link's attention. "Keep steady. We're almost there." He started to dip forward.

"And try not to go flying, I imagine it won't work out well for you."

Before Link could even process his words, his stomach started to drop. Falling fast, Revali arched nearly perpendicular to the ground, his bright blue scarf flapping behind him. The Hylian on his back could do nothing but grip onto his armour for dear life, clothes flapping wildly. His loose sleeves caught the wind, pushing them back to reveal pale gold letters, etched in the underside of his right forearm.

Leaving so soon?

The wind rushed by Link's ears, and the sky quickly faded from the cerulean glow of morning, to the snow laced air of the Hebra. What was once broad strokes of indistinct colors soon morphed into the intricate faults, flaws, and edges of towering grey mountain peaks. With the heavens stolen from them, and the frozen earth quickly coming to greet them, Revali quickly opened his wings to catch the air, swooping just above the ground and shooting forward towards the Flight Range.

Rows of cool safflina and wildberries whizzed by, the scent of smoked boar drawing closer and closer. Revali could practically feel Link's appetite from aura alone. Although, the fact that his grip on his back was starting to tighten didn't exactly keep it subtle, either.

"I left the stew going before we headed out for the mission. It should be perfect by now..." He tucked his wings into himself with a quick twirl as he shot through a narrow pass.

The cold updrafts of the Flight Range now biting into his face; the Rito let his wings expand with a few more great flaps, before landing gracefully on the railing of the wooden platform.

Link practically soared off Revali's back and bounded straight for the simmering pot.

"'Thank you, Revali, for giving me a ride across all of Tabantha without asking for so much as a rupee in return!' Oh, you're so welcome, my dear hero. It's always a pleasure to aid a flightless Hylian in need." He shook his head as he made his way into the hut.

"'Oh, but really Revali! The speed at which you travel, and the strength required to take on my loathsome person as you fly is truly something to admire. It's a miracle you took me with you at all.' Why, you are much too generous with your compliments, Link. I have half a mind to write this all down for—MmMph?!"

In a brilliant move of both telling Revali to shut the fuck up, while also sharing their meal, Link shoved a ladleful of delicious stew in the Rito's beak.

Warm, savoury stew trickled down his throat, banishing the cold from his body in mere moments. His tastebuds were nestled with flavours of nutmeg, tender meat, and the delicate heat of a perhaps a single, spicy pepper.

Link's expression was equal parts, "Will you shut up now?" and "So how's it taste?"

"Not too bad...The prime meat I procured is obviously the main event. But your seasoning skills are certainly something of note..." Revali made his way to one of the cabinets, as Link rolled his eyes.

The Rito set his bow beside the Master Sword, leaning it against the painted wood. His eyes lingered on it for a bit too long, before he scoffed and continued on his routine.

Quiver on the counter; bomb arrows wrapped properly; armour loosened and set aside; scarf—

The feathers on Revali's neck suddenly floofed up at Link's touch. But he didn't dare turn around and risk losing the sensation.

He carefully unfolded the fabric around Revali's neck, and drew it off his shoulder. He wrapped it around himself, and signed at the Rito, "Mine, now."

The Rito chuckled, before turning back around to look at the hero, now adorned with far too much blue. Blue tunic, blue scarf, and sapphire eyes—it wouldn't be out of the question to mistake him for the sky.

Link stretched out his hand, and traced the edges of Revali's face, eventually falling down his neck, and towards his shoulders. His fingers eventually hovered over some familiar words that wrapped down the left side of his neck and down his shoulder.

You should give yourself more credit.

They both did nothing but smile at each for a moment, leaning closer and succumbing to the moment. Revali could already feel Link's breath, and see the bits of snow still sticking to his (horribly) braided hair.

The Hylian saw something curious in the Rito's expression as he planted a kiss on the tip of his beak. Looking back up at his jade eyes, he couldn't help but smile wide. Revali cocked an eyebrow.

"Something to say?"

Quiet. The fire chuckled in the background.

Link finally leaned in and whispered to him.

"You smell like shit."

Revali scoffed loudly before shoving Link to the carpet, where he burst out laughing, the wind carrying it to the spirits above.

"Gods, you're insufferable. Why do I settle for you..."

Link unsuccessfully attempted to toss a pillow in his face in revenge—Revali catching it with ease.

"Beats me! Now come here, you stinky bird." He patted the space in front of the fire. No doubt he wanted to sit between his wings again

"Stew or no, I need you to keep me toasty."

In no time, Revali had sat down and wrapped himself around Link, resting his beak on his head.

A hole in the ceiling let sunlight trickle on them as they warmed up.

= = = = = = = 

Link finally sighed, the sound falling off into the void below.

"You-I can't-It was never..." He trails off, before chucking another pebble off the cliff, shaking his head.

"...I'm sorry. I know that you...That we're not really...friends or whatever...I don't mean to force you into anything uncomfortable. I owe you that much..." He looked up at the spirit, a determined look on his face.

"But, don't worry. Whatever mess I was before, whatever person you hated 100 years ago. They're gone, now. I promise I'm different. I promise I won't repeat whatever mistakes I made with you."

Revali just wants to die all over again.

"Well. That's good to hear. Perhaps there's hope for you yet, hero..." He walks forward, so he can't see his face, pointing a translucent feather far out east.

"I'd say your next objection should be Rudania. It's the closest. You can backtrack through whatever roads you've already trailed through getting here." The Rito then waved towards some glistening summits just a bit south. "Although, you said you've been to Kakariko and Hateno, yes? You could probably trek to Zora's Domain from there. The Zora will no doubt be a great asset to your further adventures—"

"Who was I closest to?"

Revali knew it was impossible to feel cold at this point, but he felt something shiver nonetheless.

"What do you mean?"

"Like...the pilots I mean. Was I...particularly close with any of them?"

"Well how should I know!" Revali snapped. He immediately regretted it seeing the look in Link's eyes. "I mean...sorry..."

Silence.

"...Mipha would be overjoyed to see you, I'm sure." He pointed again towards the cliffs surrounding Zora's Domain. "She had quite the heart...She'll make better company than I, I'm sure."

"Mhm...Alright." Link nodded to himself.

"But whatever you choose, don't try taking on Naboris, yet. Urbosa was one of the strongest warriors that even I've ever met. So I imagine that what awaits there is...deserving of more preparation."

The moon escaped from the clutches of a grey cloud, and the two of them were bathed in moonlight.

The knight's sword on his back glistens.

"I'll start making preparations tomorrow, and I'll finally be out of your hair." Link scratched the back of his head. "Although...I hope you don't mind if I come back every now and then to get pointers on using your Gale. I really only used it that one time when you gave it to me, and I've been a bit scared ever since, aha..."

Revali nodded. "That would be a more productive use of your time, yes."

Link finally stood, adjusting the strap of his sword around his shoulder.

"S-So...with Mipha. I actually heard from Kass that...uh he's—well you see, I figured you could confirm if she actually—"

"Stop." His response was as sudden as thunder. Link started sputtering again.

"S-Sorry. I know you just s—"

"Stop doing that. Stop trying to learn about the past, there's nothing for you there." Revali poked a feather at Link's head, which surprisingly made physical contact as he flinched away. "You've been given a gift, you understand? You have the luxury of being unburdened by the pains and memories of 100 years ago, while the rest of us have been stuck wallowing in what we once knew for over a century. Things that we can never attain now that we are dead." He glared, eyes sharp enough to stab into Link's flesh.

"It'd be an insult to the rest of us to throw away such a gift. So stop being ungrateful, and move on."

Silence.

Revali sighed, turning back towards Medoh. "Now get los—"

"You have no right to speak to me like that!"

The Rito whipped around. "Excuse me?"

"You don't know what it's like!" Link stomped a foot down. "You don't know what it's like, to have no attachments, no nothing to grasp onto!"

The Hylian shook his head, looking at his hands. "You're dead because of my failures, and for that, I'm truly sorry. I really am. But..." He looked the Rito, dead in the eyes. "But now I have nothing of value. Nothing to tell me what I'm worth, besides being a fighter. Besides defeating the Calamity. I don't know what kind of person I need to be," He waves a hand at Revali, "Or even what person I should try not to be. I can't...I don't want to just be nothing. Nothing but a sword and useless snippets of a dead past.

"So don't try and tell me there's nothing for me in the past. I need to know what I was, what I lost, and what I did wrong. N-Not just for me, but for everyone's sake! I want to truly know what this is all for, even if it hurts me..."

Link looked down, caressing his right wrist. "I want to know...what it was like to be complete...at the very least..."

Revali looked him up and down, something clawing up the inside of his chest, threatening to escape as dangerous words.

"...Let me see your arm."

"What—?"

"Hurry up, and just come."

Link cautiously stepped closer to Revali, extending his right arm towards him, like a handshake. But he roughly tugged him closer and folded the sleeve of his Rito garb away, exposing the skin to the crisp night air.

Pale gold letters adorned Link's inner arm, running from his wrist to his inner elbow.

Why did you think it was impossible?

The Rito nodded to himself. He had noted the first word being different when he had first reunited with Link, but it put him at ease—and completely shattered something—to have his suspicions confirmed.

"Do you know what this is, hero?"

"Yeah, it's a soulmark. This is probably what my soulmate 100 years ago said when they—"

"No." Revali let his arm fall, turning away. "It's a soulmark alright, but your soulmate is very much alive."

"Wh-What?!" Link started to walk up to Revali. "T-That's impossible! I-It's been over a hundred—"

"That's not the soulmark you had when I met you." Revali said simply. "You died. You were revived. You are adorned with a new mark, and are destined for someone new. Or someones. Or, maybe your soulmate is just yourself, it really depends..." He turned his head back.

Link was just staring at his arm. He bore no smile, but Revali could see the new fire in his eyes.

"It's like I said. It'd be an insult to go digging up the past. But I suppose I can't stop you..." Revali continued to make his way to Medoh. "You want something to fight for? Fight for that..."

The moon disappeared behind another cloud, and the glow of Medoh was all that bathed them. Link finally looked up, calling after the ghost in the mist.

"I...Thank you, Revali. But just so you know..." The Rito Champion turned, staring directly at the hero's determined expression.

"This doesn't change what I want. I still intend to know who I was."

There was quiet as they each looked at their ghosts.

Revali sighed, giving a sad nod.

"I know."

He disappeared in glowing blue flames, the embers falling towards the stars.

[alfredosauce50]

Island Escapade 03

03 - More to the eye Wordcount: 2, 200 The reader is referred to as she/her.

A few weeks had gone by since Allen’s arrival.

And you couldn’t lie; he was doing a fantastic job as an assistant, domestic worker, and bell boy. Cooking and cleaning in the house were halved but with double the fun. Sure, he wasn’t much of a morning person, but the idea of food prepping was incentive enough.

“Three egg sandwiches to go.” He opened up a cooler bag for you. “Man, I’m already hungry.”

“Then eat the PB&J. It’s there for that reason.” You placed everything inside. “Don’t hesitate.”

“Eh.” Allen wrinkled his nose. “I’ll pass.”

While you paced around to get everything ready, you made sure to throw in a few other snacks. Hummus, dips, nut-bars, whatever they deemed protein-dense enough to eat. Feeding a gym rat like Mathias was quite the challenge, but two?

“So long as you eat it before dinner.” You shrugged, feeling an excited smile work into your features. You watched Allen throw the shoulder strap over himself. Once his hands were free, you handed him a shiny blue brochure. “Here.”

“What’s for dinner?” He looked down at it.

“An all-you-can-eat-buffet.”

“Woah, what?” He lit up. “You didn’t tell me we had stuff like this. What is this, a, uh, fundraising party?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, Bruce Wayne. You guys are living it up!”

“Yeah. It’s just a little fun to celebrate conservation efforts here.” You put the brochure away and sighed. “But like these sandwiches, the bread always comes first. We’ve got a lot of work before tonight. Organizing the venue, cleaning the aquariums—”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Allen waved a hand in your face. “You lost me at work.”

“Isn’t that what you came here to do?” You held up his logbook and swayed it. “It’s time to get real.”

“I knew I had it too good for too long.” He closed his eyes and grumbled.

In the tourist center, a huge indoor space with high ceilings, all the conservationists worked feverishly to prepare for tonight’s event. Mathias and his diving buddy were geared up, ready to plunge into the glowing water in the aquarium–a gigantic, cylindrical tank hugged by a spiraling staircase.

While he scrubbed away at the glass and cleaned it meticulously, you were in the next room, doing routine check-ups for some sick animals.

Allen was stuck with a bucket and mop.

It wasn’t hard, but that was the problem–he always wondered what it’d be like being something beyond a slack janitor. And this itch to do more, to be more, was never scratched until now. Once he finished, he knocked on the door you disappeared behind.

“Come in,” You called from the inside.

Allen stood in the door frame in an awkward stance. His arms remained stiffly at his sides.

“Hey.” He coughed. “Mind if I join?”

“Of course. Just be careful where you step.” You were leaned over a tank. He walked in slowly, heeding your instructions carefully. “Oh, and keep your voice down.”

“Okay,” Allen whispered. He crouched beside you to look at what you were fiddling with. There was a sea turtle in the water. Its small, wet head poked out of the surface and responded to your gentle strokes. “Woah. Who’s this little guy?”

“Leonardo.” You smiled.

“Pfft. Leonardo?” He snorted, raising his voice briefly. The turtle sunk below the water, much to your annoyance. Allen cringed apologetically, then leaned into your ear. “Like the ninja turtle?”

“Yep.” You chuckled, feeling your content return. “He’s almost healthy enough to be released. If he was any sicker, I would’ve told you to get out.”

“Why, ‘cause I’m loud?”

“It’s part of it.” You stood up and made your way to the sink. Allen glanced back at the creature. He lingered a gentle gaze on it as it swam small laps. Seeing wildlife up close was always something; calming, humbling, and weirdly fun. “If you wash your hands, you can feed him.”

“Really?” Allen piped up excitedly. When he saw your frown, he shrunk his head into his neck. “Sorry. I’ll be quiet from now on, I promise.”

He’d never had that much fun in his life. His cheeks practically puffed up from how hard he was smiling–Leonardo seemed shy at first, but he immediately warmed up seeing the food Allen offered him. He chomped down on the shrimp eagerly.

“Slow down there, buckaroo. Nobody’s fighting you for this,” He laughed. “Well, I’m definitely not. Dunno about your friend here.”

You returned his playfulness with another warm smile.

“You’re really good at this, Al.”

He’d been scraping down the corners of the tupperware when he stopped his movements. He never blushed, but this time was an exception. That nickname you spun up for him sounded way too good in your voice.

“... Thanks,” Allen murmured, keeping his eyes on the feed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so soft-spoken, but it wasn’t a mystery as to why. “You’re not so bad yourself, doll.”

“Mhm. You did really well today.” Taking the tupperware from his hands, you went over to wash it in the sink. While your back was turned to him, he hung his head and let a tiny wave of sadness wash over him.

Allen didn’t particularly think he did a good job.

But you were happy, so why couldn’t he be?

When you walked out with him to the main concourse, he stuck close to you. Rather than telling him off, You let him do what he wanted—settling an idle hand on your shoulder while you spoke with other colleagues. And there he stayed, towering over you with his intimidating guise. You never noticed, but they were trying not to make eye contact with him.

When they left in a scuffle, he never hesitated to speak his mind.

“Your friends definitely hate me.”

“What? They don’t hate you.” You turned to him with a cut expression. “How could they?”

“I can just tell.”

“Oh, yeah?” You held onto his forearms loosely.

“It’s not that it matters, but I’m just saying.” Allen laughed nervously. “But whatever.”

“They don’t know you,” You released him, much to his disappointment. But it didn’t stop there—your feet were turned away from him. “And they don’t know you’re an expert turtle handler. Also, I’m gonna go check on Mathias now, so you should go use the toilet.”

“Alright.” He waved you off. Allen was about to make a comment about him as your not-boyfriend again. But he saved it, figuring he didn’t want to ruin his perfect track record today.

The toilet flushed.

He stepped out of the men’s bathrooms to look for you.

Almost immediately, he found you in front of the aquarium. Up there on the spiral staircase, you were close to the glass and facing one of the scuba-divers. Upon closer look, it was Mathias.

Bubbles floated from his mouthpiece as he showed you his esteemed collection of seashells. Scallop shells, conch shells, anything he thought pretty enough to share with you. He held them up to the glass before tucking them away into a pouch.

The gesture itself was cuter than you cared to admit, but sweet turned into bittersweet when you remembered why you liked these neat trinkets in the first place. Mathias used to go looking for shells to make necklaces out of them. He often brought you along, and the first necklace you made for him was something he never let go of.

“This ice cream doesn’t look like me.” Mathias chuckled. “Does it?”

You help up a pineapple-flavored soft serve.

“It’s your twin.” You laughed back.

“Except this one fits my dietary requirements.” Allen leaned forward and took a generous bite off the top, leaving only half of the sweet dessert for you. “Fucking delicious.”

“Wow.” You had nothing but scorn for the man when he showed you his smug face. “I hope you get brain freeze. Which you will.”

Karma struck, and his expression contorted in grave discomfort.

“Ha!”

The night went by quickly, but only because everyone was enjoying themselves.

With great food, entertainment, and a lively ambiance in the marquee, any grudges were left for good. Hundreds of people showed up to chime in on every activity, so you three did too. Soon, the tension between Allen and Mathias lifted, the more notable change being yours and Mathias’s chemistry.

After getting beaten by him in a game of chicken, which resulted in you falling off of your friend’s shoulders and into the pool in a loud splash, you immediately sought revenge. Mathias’s laughs were getting more obnoxious by the second. When he wasn’t paying attention to the water, you sprung out and grabbed him by his neck, pulling him in.

“Woah!” He fell backward with next to no grace.

His dripping wet hair had lost its volume and looked so flat you began cackling. It died down into breathy laughs, and while he listened, he waded up to you with cutting conviction.

You hadn’t been that happy around him in so long, seeing it had his body moving on its own. And it moved towards you, all until he was looming his face over yours. Your smile faded, but you never backed away.

In the next few seconds, he hoisted you up by your waist. Your arms went around his neck on instinct. You could say it was to stabilize yourself, but that would’ve been a lie. Tightening yourself around him, you felt the string of his shell necklace sink into your skin.

As your head hovered over his, your heart ached to close the gaps between your lips.

But Mathias’s was throbbing at this point.

Tilting his head up to kiss you, he managed to put his mouth on yours for a good three seconds before you pulled away. You heated up with embarrassment, then shock, and soon, anger when you realized what you’d done. After giving him a rough shove, you marched away without a second look.

After all, ‘seconds’ were never good things when it involved Mathias. Second thoughts, second guessing, second chances, they all lead you back to the same dark place. You didn’t have any control around him, and you needed to escape that before you regretted it.

Allen just returned to the pool with a pina colada.

“Where’s (F/N)?”

Mathias had his back against the tiled wall. His arms went behind him on the border. His expression was unreadable for the most part, but it couldn’t be denied he looked more disheartened than anything.

“She’s inside.”

Allen made a U-turn and walked back into the marquee. He found you back at the table, fiddling with an olive in your martini. Once he set his glass down, he sat by your side with raised brows.

“Didn’t you tell me to not play with my food?”

“No.”

“Oh, really?” He squinted. “Must’ve remembered wrong. So, what’s got you looking so sad, dollface?”

You took an absent sip from your glass.

“I kissed Mat.”

One stolen pina colada later, your nausea eventually overtook the tightness in your chest.

Rather than warbling through tears, you were hunched over to offset the sick churning in your stomach. Allen could only pat your back, not knowing what to do or say. He wished he could do more, but he wasn’t the best at relationship advice, let alone for such a complicated case like this one.

“Come on, (F/N). We need to get you home.” Allen sighed, hearing a long groan in response.

“Do I have to walk back?”

“No, I’ll carry you. Come on.” He helped you up.

Then, he hoisted you up into a bridal style carry.

“Alright, you big baby. Just don’t puke on me on the way.”

“I might just do that, actually.” You closed your eyes.

“Are you serious?” Allen picked up his pace.

When you stared up at him again, he’d find himself looking down at your tired and coy expression. If that wasn’t enough to get a man down, nothing was.

“But would you mind?”

He choked up a little inside.

“No.”

It only felt like yesterday you were jamming his fingers in the door and lecturing him on privacy. You had no trust in him then. But everything changed the second you relaxed in his arms.

If he wanted to keep things this way, he needed to take you home safe—even if every fiber of his being told him to just—Allen would’ve hit his own head for even thinking about it, but his hands were full.

So he ran like the wind.

Trotting down the stairs of the wharf, he trudged through the cold sand in the direction of your home.

All he needed to get you in your room, sit down, have a beer or two and incapacitate himself in the living room. So while his intentions were noble, it didn’t look that way to an outsider. This outsider being Mathias himself, who found himself stuck on the wharf by himself after being ditched.

But that would soon change when he was convinced he just witnessed a kidnapping.

With a flick of the switch, his pleasant demeanor disappeared. The whole night, he had been nothing but smiles. But if Allen thought that meant he was an idiot, he had another thing coming.

A vein popped around his neck as a dark glare twisted at his face.

“… That bastard…”

And to think he was willing to give him a chance.

[rwbyvein]

Arctic Warfare: Heart's Contemplation:  Part I/IV

Pyrrha wanted to approach Jaune, but he seemed to be busy. He was carrying a white flower into the back of the ballroom. She wanted to follow him, but he stopped with a start and so did she. She moved over to see beyond and nearly grew pale. There was the love of her own asking another man out on a date. Pyrrha quickly pulled away.

* * *

Pyrrha walked around in the evening light, unsure of what to do. As much as it pained her to see him in pain, this was good, was it nott? If Weiss went to the dance with Neptune, that would leave Jaune for her, would it not? She clutched her chest as her heart ached. Could she really find it in herself to find benefit from his tragedy. His pain was her pain, and his joy her own.

* * *

Pyrrha: *turns towards the balcony*

Pyrrha: I've been blessed with incredible talents and opportunity; I'm constantly surrounded by love and praise, but when you're placed on a pedestal like that for so long, you become seperated from the people that put you there in the first place.

Pyrrha (internally): I'm so sorry.

Pyrrha: *turns to Jaune*

Pyrrha: Everone assumes I'm too good for them.

Pyrrha (internally): I'm not too good for you; why can't you see that?

Pyrrha: That I'm on a level they simply can't attain.

Pyrrha (internally): See how far you've come?

Pyrrha: It's become impossible to form any sort of meaningful relationship with people.

Pyrrha (internally): Except with you.

Pyrrha: That's what I like about you.

Pyrrha (internally): That's what I love about you.

Pyrrha: When we met, you didn't even know my name.

Pyrrha (internally): Oh, how my heart soars when you say my name.

Pyrrha: You treated me like anyone else. And thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime.

Pyrrha (internally): But, your heart soars for another.

Pyrrha: I guess, you're the kind of guy I wish I was here with.

Pyrrha (internally): A heart who has betrayed your, and was betrayed in return.

Pyrrha: Someome who just saw me for me.

Pyrrha: *looks at Jaune and then walks away while Jaune simply stares in astonishment*

Pyrrha (internally): But I know you would hate yourself if you took in joy in this.

Jaune: W-Wai..

Neptune walked by Pyrrha, and the moment he had departed she clutched her chest and flattened against the outer wall, so that he could not see her shame or love.

Pyrrha (internally): Betrayer! Betrayer of love, and heart's embrace. How could such a foul man carry his head so high?

Neptune: Hey, uh, Jaune, right?

Jaune: *sighs*

Jaune: Yeah.

Neptune: This party's pretty lame, huh? I mean, ballroom dancing. Pfft.

Pyrrha (internally): Mayhap naught even betrayer at all, perhaps the heart's yearning is beyond his ken.

Jaune: Yeah.

Jaune: *looks back out over the balcony*

Pyrrha (internally): How bitter the words are when they pass your lips, that I can scarely believe you uttered them... but I know with my heart that thine words be hollow fragments of forgotten torment.

Neptune (gesturing back to the dance): Cute girls, though, huh?

Pyrrha (internally): Is that all that thou canst ken? The beauty of the form, but not the beauty of the souls? A foul, contemptuous soul thoust hast.

Jaune: *growls as he turns back to Neptune*

Jaune: Is that all you think about?

Pyrrha (internally): The fire in mine heart and loins.

Neptune: *complete lack of understanding*

Neptune: Huh?

Pyrrha: Thine head so high 'tis lost in clouds.

Jaune: Do you even care about the girls you're hitting on? How they feel about you?

Pyrrha (internally): Thine soul thus then outpour.

Neptune: Whoa!

Neptune (throwing his palms up): Where's this coming from?

Pyrrha (internally): Thine heart as black as the sea, thou cannot ken a maiden's sorrow?

Jaune (opening his arms wide): How could you just turn her down like that?

Neptune: Wait, h-who?

Pyrrha (internally): Thou seems as deep as the darkest fathoms, but thou art as shallow a puddle of spittle upon the floor.

Jaune: Weiss!

Pyrrha (internally): How his heart soars upon saying her name, but the sorrow also upon his lips...

Neptune: I, uh... it, uh... it just didn't work out, you know?

Jaune: What? You think that you're too cool, too many other options? Weiss Schnee asked you to the dance. What in the world could possibly keep you from go-

Pyrrha (internally): Yes, whatever could be thy utterance? What doest thou think could possibly deliver thee?

Neptune: *looks shamefully at the ground*

Neptune: I can't dance!

Jaune (calmly): Beg your pardon?

Pyrrha (internally): I beg your pardon?

Neptune: I can't dance, man!

Pyrrha (internally): Thou hast feet, even should thee fail, it would still endear her.

Jaune: But... you're so cool!

Neptune: Thank you. I try really, really hard.

Pyrrha (internally): Placit, facile, festering, festooned, foul fowl of a lummox.

Jaune: You would rather break a girl's heart and go to a dance alone than just admit to everyone that you can't move in rhythm to music?

Pyrrha (internally): Rhythm has always escaped my grasp. Only once hast one matched the rhythm of my heart, though thinking, perhaps it was thrice.

Neptune: That about sums it up, yeah.

Jaune: *turning back to the balcony*

Jaune (self-depreciating): Well, I certainly feel a lot better about myself.

Pyrrha (internally): Thine humility shines like gold, but faith would make it all the brighter.

Neptune *raises his hands, palms towards Jaune*

Neptune: Please don't tell anybody. Look, if you want Weiss, she's all yours. I don't wanna get in your way.

Pyrrha: *clutches her chest*

Jaune: *Turns back towards Neptune*

Jaune: *places his palms on the banister behind him*

Pyrrha: *tries to even out her heady breathing*

Jaune: Do you like her?

Neptune: Yeah, I mean I don't know her too well yet, but she seems pretty cool.

Jaune: Then just go talk to her.

Pyrrha: *feels like a spear is stabbed into her heart*

Jaune: No pickup lines, no suave moves, just be yourself.

Pyrrha (internally): Just be myself?

Jaune: I've heard that's the way to go.

Jaune: *crosses his arms*

Pyrrha: *crosses her arms across her heart*

Neptune: Yeah, but then-

Jaune: Hey! You don't have to look cool all the time. In all honesty, if you could be a little less cool, I'd really appreciate it.

Pyrrha: *finds herself letting out a silent giggle*

Neptune: *contemplation*

Neptune: Yeah, okay.

Jaune: Go talk to her. I guarantee it'll make her night.

Pyrrha (internally): That's what you really wanted, isn't it? To make her night?

Neptune: Thanks. You're a really cool guy, Jaune.

Neptune: *approaches Jaune, holding his fist out for a bump*

Jaune: *approaches Neptune*

Jaune: Alright, don't lie to my face.

Jaune and Neptune: *fist bump*

Pyrrha: *swiftly, silently walks away*

Jaune: *sighs*

Jaune: All right, only one thing left to do.

* * *

Pyrrha: *lost in thought as she wandered through the ballroom*

Pyrrha (internally): I haven't seen Jaune in some time. Could his heart not simply take the sacrifice he made?

Pyrrha: *hears a chorus of laughter approaching her from behind*

Pyrrha: *turns to see Jaune in a dress, a wellspring of joy appearing within her*

* * *

[thessalian]

Thess vs Patches

As I sit and finish some character sheets I’ve been meaning to put together for Shenanigans (I’m hoping to have enough spoons to do Shenanigans so I’d like to at least be ready; this week has been just hell on wheels and I haven’t managed to finish the last one I need), there’s a thing I’ve noticed about D&D in terms of sourcebooks: In terms of character and class balance, it feels an awful lot like playing Overwatch.

Just, like ... you’ve got your classic races and classes, and those were balanced to work with each other. But then you have your races in Volo’s, and your classes in Xanathar’s, and whole other races and classes in other books, and none of them were necessarily balanced with the PHB stuff in mind. So they put out variants for the classic races and classes (hello, Tasha’s) to try to balance them out. Except Tasha’s gives new classes too so the tweaks to the classic races and classes are more balanced for those than they are for some of the other ones in different books and you end up with a situation where depending on what you’re going for, playing ... say, human, or even half-elf or something ... just stops being worth it.

Plus these tweaks and even attempts at rebalance cost an awful lot of money, whereas at least Overwatch just patches the damn things into the game. Yes, someone is incredibly grumpy about Tasha’s and Monsters of the Multiverse. Particularly that last, because I already have Mordenkainen’s and Xanathar’s and Volo’s but MotM gives us tweaks and changes and I’m going to have to decide whether I use that one next campaign or whether I stick with my three.

I swear before all the gods, this is my impetus to actually write Torinn’s Guide to Elossa. If I want one fucking sourcebook that’s going to cover everything I need it to cover without any arguments about which sourcebooks we can and cannot use, I’m just going to have to write it myself. That’s honestly what the Saturday Shenanigans are for - not only does it help me flesh out the game world (this next batch of Shenanigans are going to be based on the sea-based settlements of the Moskoy people), but it lets me know what races I should include, which ones I need to tweak and how, and what I can just fucking leave out. Also saves the whole “You can have some of the races from X book but not that one“ issue.

(No Changelings. That is the rule. Shit’s complicated enough as it is, especially with an eight-person party in the main campaign. I wasn’t going to include minotaurs either but Brian had such a good idea and I made it work on an accidental dimension-hop technicality and tweaked a few bits and pieces to balance his beefy ass a little better with the rest of the party and so these things are flexible, sometimes. Just not with Changelings.)

And yeah, I could get the online versions of all of these where the tweaks are probably built in, but fuck that; I don’t really like reading sourcebooks on the computer. It’s great if I need to look up a very specific thing, but I need to be able to flip through the actual dead tree book if I’m going to use it for inspirational purposes. And honestly, beyond the base rules, that’s all I use the books for anyway. I use them the way Dr Frankenstein used morgues and the like - pick the best bits for what I want to create and put them together. Which reminds me of a comment a friend of mine made when I was explaining one of my players’ characters and the choice of god made him go “Pfft; go Realms or go home”. My response was as the above: “Pfft right back at you; I’m doing homebrew - picking the best of everything and stitching it all together into something glorious. Like Dr Frankenstein!”

He said: “...Created a monster that ended up killing him?”

So I just said, “If there’s a better way of describing a campaign from a DM’s point of view, I haven’t heard it yet”.

On that note, back to water genasi kensei monk. And wondering whether I require more coffee for this. ...Probably. I always require more coffee. And then I need to do some gardening; it’s time to repot some mint and strawberries. And after that we’ll see if I have the spoons to actually run a thing after working on character sheet. Yeesh.

[lluvguts]

Cool Blue ; Chapter Seven

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

frightened by my feelings

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☽ a/n: i'm so sorry for the long wait! i've been in a mood.

☽ warnings: internalized homophobia

☽ fic masterlist

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

Alberto broke away from Giulia's hand clasped in his own and listened to their steps (his silent, always barefoot but Giulia's sandals slapped the boards unpleasantly) up the rickety staircase to the hallway. Mismatched pairs of socks and a few pencil shavings led them off in a distinct line to Alberto's room, ending at his door, a sign to anyone else in the house that Alberto had been rummaging through the downstairs cupboards at night; whereas Giulia's room opposite his, clean when she wanted it to be, teeming with school books and Machi's homemade cat toys and plant life, had no such trail.

"You know, come to think of it, this makes much more sense now," Giulia mused, her eyes fixed on her toes as Alberto abruptly stopped them at the doorway to his room.

Alberto felt a headache start to blossom beneath his eyelids, above his browbone. A throb with no rhythm but all the more pain to make up for it. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the steadying weight of the doorframe pressing on his shoulder as he leaned on it. Giulia knew, but she...also didn't. A tiny fleck marked the frame and only became apparent in his blurry vision, just a chip on the wood. Stripped of paint and sticking out against the cream walls in an ugly slash.

He trailed his thumb along the divot, feeling the splinters biting underneath his calloused hand. Giulia was still talking, ignoring his silence. The tension only grew the longer Alberto hovered at the door, refusing to open it and let all of those things come seeping out, with Giulia's smug remarks making the pain reach a high point.

"...I'm not nearly as obvious about, uh, my thing as you are. I don't go painting pictures of him--which I'm almost positive you do, by the way. Oh! And Papa's camera? You took photos, too? Santa mozzarella, Alberto, this is just like a soap opera--"

Alberto's thumbnail dug into the wood. "Yeah, okay Giulia, we get it. You're such a genius or whatever for knowing my secrets, alright? Will you ever shut up?"

Giulia blinked, losing some of that teasing glint in her eyes, but only for a moment. She stood up straighter and examined Alberto's pained expression and his half-stance, shouldered up on the wallpaper so he didn't faint from fear. She yanked his forearm away from the divot in the doorframe and pulled it forward, propelling them into Alberto's room without any other notice.

"Wait! Giulia! It's-It's very messy in here! I wouldn't want you having a heart attack or something..." Alberto rambled, flinging free of her grip once again to run ahead of her.

Always in the lead, scrambling to kick his discarded bath towel under the bed, and the rush of feelings that surged with it. The photos. The pictures were still on the dresser, and Giulia was standing by the bed, so that saved him at least a few agonizing minutes. While she grimaced at his crumpled sheets, pinching her nose and complaining of the fish smell, Alberto shied away from her gaze, laughing nervously and edged closer to the dresser.

"Honestly, Alberto," Giulia picked up his comforter, then wrinkled her nose in disgust and it flew from her fingers. "Haven't you heard of airing out your bedroom? The window is literally right here."

He glanced over Giulia's shoulder at the harbor beyond, thinking she should be at work. They should both be at work, or working, or doing at least something. "Don't like it."

"Don't like the window?" A piece of dirty laundry, another item under close sibling scrutiny, was dropped from her hands. Giulia turned from the wall and smirked unconvincingly at Alberto's palms outstretched along the top of the dresser, practically leaning on it for dear life.

He tried to clear his throat, but it was dry. Everything in his room was dry. The towel from the night before was cast under his bed, stiff as old citrus. The empty glass behind him, the tiny ring of water that clung to the bottom now dried up. Definitely what had happened hours before had nothing to do with what was already drying inches below his belt. God, he needed a shower to scrub off the memories. No, sear them off his skin.

Stop. Don't think of that.

"No! I, uh--" Alberto closed his eyes, opened them, closed them again, that headache never seeming to go away. "I don't...like...the boats."

That was mostly true. He just didn't like some boats in particular, the ones that hunted down sea monsters and pried the scales from their bodies as if they were gold flecks. He didn't mind giving up the salty nighttime breeze for peace of mind. What he didn't want to sacrifice, however, was the lingering (stifling) smell of Luca's scales clinging to his bedsheets and in the bathroom, with the door constantly open, a heady ocean candle that was never snuffed out.

"Pfft! You liar, you basically live on a boat you work so much. What about it could you possibly not like?" She tried a new tactic, no longer rooting through article after offensive article of boyish mess, and instead picked apart the uneasy smile in Alberto's upturned lips, evident in the sweat along his temple.

Her dark eyes roamed over Alberto, looking up at the wall then back down to his sprawled arms and aching shoulders, realization dawning. "You're...stalling! Hah! Think changing the subject will do you any good when you're around me, eh?"

Giulia marched over to Alberto, who even hunched back to conceal the contents of the dresser was taller by a few inches.

"You're hiding something, aren't you?" Giulia whispered, her voice once dripping with an easygoing slyness that only came with being siblings. But now, she steeled her eyes over Alberto's shoulder, freckled and tanned and nicked with fishing scars, searching but said nothing else.

Alberto slid his tongue along the rough roof of his mouth, tasting salt. He winced at Giulia's tender fingertips brushing over the top of his shoulders to reach for something outside of his vision, but by the feather-light intake of breath that Giulia did a poor job at hiding, he knew exactly what she had found. One photo turned to two, then three, and soon Giulia was thumbing through all of them like the old card deck they always managed to misplace on late nights.

"Luca," Giulia murmured softly, the polaroids pinched between her shaking fingers. She said his name, and the grapefruit that Massimo had held in his bare hand came to mind, suddenly. His name sounded sweet as she said it, peeling back the shocking rinds to a much more bitter discovery, the picture wrapped in a thin little fruit membrane that Giulia had torn apart and dove in hands first to pick out the seeds. She said his name, and Alberto bit his tongue, waiting, waiting. The salty tang was met with the quick release of blood as he chewed on his lip, not caring for the sting but more so for the way the air in the room stood still.

Giulia was sitting on the bed now, and Alberto was still sprawled out along the dresser, feeling time rush back in to greet him. The window was still closed. The bath towel peeked out from hard bedframe, sage fabric frozen in place, silently screaming if Alberto could guess. All of the warmth in the room flooded to Alberto's face, his flushed cheeks burning so hot he covered them with clammy palms. This wasn't happening...

The dizziness in his brain had subsided, at least for now. Pushed to the side. "I...uh...I think I can--You aren't afraid, are you?"

Giulia opened her mouth, speaking silent demands. The pictures were still in her hands. Though she was shaking and casting their glossy film over Alberto's pleading eyes. He took a step to her, and she held up a hand--the one that wasn't clutching the polaroids. Holding Luca. Così bello, Luca.

"Take me to him."

"Huh?" Alberto skittered back, eyeing the photos but afraid to take them from her hands, gently thumbing through them again like she was seeing the glossy scales and bright eyes for the first time. "I don't know...uh, I don't know what you're asking, Giulia," Alberto breathed, itching to take the stack of photos. Giulia sensed her brother's restlessness and stood up to place them into his trembling hands. They fit perfectly into his palms, and he carded through the five with a fond smile he quickly abandoned when realization hit him and Giulia was, there.

"Saying they were just a myth, Alberto?" Giulia brought all of the photos together carefully, choosing not to see Alberto's eyebrows shooting up into his head of curls but at the rows and neat edges she'd made. "But oh, wow, Luca. So...much different that what Papa says about sea monsters. He's so..."

Alberto's heart sped up. "Beautiful?" Was he even allowed to say that? What would she think?

Giulia nodded, flashing an appreciate grin but still indecisive.

"That's okay, Alberto," She wrapped her hands over Alberto's, a pillar to his crumbling resolve, and put her chin against his collarbone to still him. She sighed, a rumbling breath into his ribcage, and he felt his chest lighten. "It's okay to think he's beautiful."

Alberto didn't think he could get a word out, with his sister's hair inches from his nose, filling his head with soothing, sleepy smells. She had stuck a stem of lavender from the vase in the kitchen behind her ear.

No it's not.

"Shhh, fratello. Just don't think for a moment, si?" Giulia took the photos again and put them in her pants pocket, then wrapped her assuring arms around Alberto's neck as he let out a soundless cry. "You're okay."

Alberto buried the bridge of his sunburnt nose into Giulia's hair, the tiny periwinkle flower buds tickling his cheekbone.

"The lavanda in the vase, you bought that? It...was for him, wasn't it?" Giulia murmured to distract, petting the side of his neck to calm him down.

"...He couldn't keep it. The petals would float to the surface." His words came out sniffled and ugly-sounding, making him cringe but also hold in a laugh imagining Luca bringing a bouquet of flowers underwater just to see them all rush past his wide eyes to the surf above.

Giulia snorted and laughed against his chest, and soon Alberto was chuckling softly along with her. "Let's go see il tuo cuore, okay?"

"You're serious?" Alberto readjusted the lavender stem in her hair. "Giulia, this is like the total opposite of how I thought this would go."

She took his hand tenderly and went to the door, but not without a whiplash turn of her head, cocking one eyebrow in defiance. "What, did you expect me to reach for the nearest harpoon? Like everyone else in this town? I don't think so." She tapped her forehead, smirking. "Open mind, dummy."

Alberto squeezed her pinky finger. "Okay, you were so sweet a second ago. What happened?"

"Lots of things, big guy," Giulia clicked her tongue and pulled Alberto's hand closer. "But that vase on the dining room table, those flowers. That's how I knew. If it were a girl, you would have listened to Papa's advice for roses. But you got lavender."

Alberto sighed, fighting the impulse to tug his hand away and retreat fearfully back to his room. "If you think it's such a stupid idea, we can make tea with them. Papa got a new kettle at the market."

Giulia gave him a side glance again. "And what about Luca?"

"Fine, no tea then." Alberto stumbled on his words, choking on them almost. Would Luca...even be there? After what had happened...

He blushed and stopped, inches above Giulia's head when he stood one step higher than her, looking directly into the kitchen on his right where the vase was. Evening light spilled in the window by the sink the Marcovaldos refused to close, bathing the ornate, bottle green glass in moody flashes of color on the patched up tablecloth. A sliver of a grapefruit rind sat, hard and darkened next to the reflection of lavender stems, from Massimo's talk. Alberto swallowed the immediate flush of nausea, hating the way he could almost taste the embarrassment and worry on his tongue, inside his pores.

It was going to get dark soon.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Bad Reputation

Scoop of the day is a writing challenge with a difference. Each fic is built from a set of (for the most part) randomly generated prompts and could be about just about anything, from breakups to smut to found family. Let’s enjoy some ice cream 🍦!

More info about the challenge here

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Rating: Explicit, Minors BE GONE

Warnings: Choking, mild-ish degradation, pretty much Reader-chan and Dabi calling each other names and fucking. Sometimes while fucking. Reader-chan is a smoker and they both have potty mouths

Flavour(s): Carob, Cake Batter

Prompt: 22, Ambivalence, 12, Invitation

You’re a potential recruit for the League of Villains, though not particularly convinced by their leader. Dabi makes you an offer you can’t refuse.

Reader-sama’s Villain name is Titania, for reasons I’m going into on a different fic in this challenge!

~~~~

“What a dive,” you muttered under your breath, taking in the flecked paint and boarded windows of the bar in front of you.

You pulled out your phone to double check the address your contact sent you, wondering if you’d misread it. 

You hadn’t, though, and took a couple of steps backwards with a tut.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

You pushed open the door and stepped into the bar, wrinkling your nose at the smell of stale alcohol and dust that permeated every corner. Several people had arrived before you, each sizing you up as you approached the bar.

Even among villains, you had a reputation and the ones in front of you were small fry. They parted like the red sea to give you space and you took a seat without giving them the time of day.

If this was the League of Villains.. well… 

You flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink, hoping that that at least wouldn’t be a waste of your time.

~~~~

In the end, you paid far more attention to the drink in your hand than anything Shigaraki said. He was a kid and almost certainly a dumbass and you weren’t in the mood to be anyone’s babysitter. The idea that he could change society was laughable.

You let yourself out through the back door about halfway through, bored beyond belief and pushing a cigarette between your lips. You reached into your pocket for a lighter, swearing under your breath when it refused to ignite.

“Y’know,” someone piped up, “those things are bad for you.”

You turned to the owner of the voice, ready with a sarcastic comment, only to fall silent when you saw who was standing there. 

Out of everyone at the gathering, he was the only one to make a lasting impression. He had burns on his face and searching eyes, which had wandered non-too-discreetly in your direction at the bar. He hadn’t been listening to Shigaraki’s speech either, choosing instead to lean against the wall at the back.

Despite his disapproving statement moments earlier, he held out his index finger, which burst into flame.

“I happen to like things that are bad for me,” you said, leaning over to light your cigarette and breathing a sigh of relief at the rush of nicotine. 

“You’re Titania.”

“You’re observant.”

“You’re not staying?” 

“Pfft, no,” you said, offended that he’d even asked. “Shigaraki has some good ideas but he’s not Stain. Boy’s an anglerfish. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out someone else is pulling the strings.”

“You know, I’ve heard a lot of things about you,” he said, extinguishing the flame on his finger. “I gotta say… you’re not what I expected.”

“Oh?”

“They never said you were a pussy.”

You stopped in place, unable to believe your ears.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

You had a bad reputation for a reason. If he knew your name, he definitely should have known better.

“You heard me,” he smirked. “You’re a pussy.”

You took another drag of your cigarette and dropped it to the floor, using the moment of distraction to drag a knife from your boot. You pushed him back against the wall and held it at his throat, standing so close that you could feel the warmth of his body.

“You don’t have any survival instincts, do you?” you said, teasing the blade edge against his skin. 

He grinned and held up his hands.

“Not in the slightest,” he said, grabbing your wrist before you could move and yanking you forwards. You stumbled, blade clattering to the floor and he threw you up against the wall with a strength you wouldn’t have guessed from his skinny frame, one hand on your neck and the other holding your wrist against the bricks.

“Then again, babydoll,” he said, voice rumbling next to your ear, “I also like things that are bad for me.”

You knew his type.

The smooth talkers. The fuckboys.

Unfortunately, you had a weakness for both.

He tightened his grip on your throat, cold eyes searching your face for a reaction. You smirked, heat pooling in your center.

Maybe this wasn’t such a waste of time, after all.

“Now who’s the pussy?” you croaked and it was all the invitation he needed.

He let go and pushed his lips against yours, biting and sucking at your bottom lip as you reached out to fiddle with his fly. He sighed in pleasure as you slipped a hand into his pants and squeezed his dick, running your thumb over the row of piercings he had along the shaft.

You dropped to your knees and yanked his pants down further, licking your lips as his dick bounced free. He was hard, veins bulging and precum dripping from the tip. You spat in your palm and wrapped your hand around him, squeezing your thumb against his piercings and earning sighs of pleasure. You ran your tongue over the studs, sucking at the sensitive skin there before taking him into your mouth. His knees buckled and he braced his hand against the wall, wrapping the fingers of his other hand in your hair and thrusting so hard that your head would have hit the bricks if he hadn’t been holding onto it. 

“Look at you, on your knees like a good little whore,” he said, thrusting so hard that it brought tears to your eyes. You refused to gag and that only seemed to encourage him, for he fucked your mouth deeper and harder, only falling still when someone opened the back door to the bar.

“Hey, Dabi,” they called, looking up in surprise at the sight of you. “I...oh.”

It was a member of the League; a Stain cosplayer with lizard scales. He took several steps back, eyes darting around the alley in an attempt to look at anything else. If looks could have killed, he would have been dead several times before he hit the ground.

“Um...I… um… I’m just gonna...”

He darted back into the bar as quickly as he’d left it, leaving the guy you were fucking (Dabi, presumably) to let go of your head and run his fingers through his hair.

Damn, he was such a pretty boy. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he sighed and you wrapped a hand around his cock, easing it out of your mouth and wiping the mixture of spit and precum from your lips.

“You never told me you were with the League,” you said, getting to your feet and unzipping your own pants.

“You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t care.”

He pushed you back into the wall, hands roaming your body. He grabbed at your breasts before reaching down into your pants, biting your neck as he pushed a finger inside you. Truthfully, you were more than ready for him, but the suddenness of it made you gasp.

He stepped back and yanked your pants down to your knees, turning you to face the wall. He pulled your arms behind your back and snaked his own around your waist, rubbing his hard dick against your folds and stroking frantic circles around your clit. 

The sudden overstimulation had you sucking in deep breaths, heat rising under your skin. 

“Too much for you?”

You couldn’t see his face but you just knew he was wearing a shit eating grin.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“So needy,” he said with a tut.

He took a step back and aligned himself, nudging his tip against your entrance and pushing in almost all of the way without any kind of warning. For a second everything went white; you cried out in both surprise and delight, the burn of being stretched so much so soon enough to send shivers up your spine.

How long had it been since you’d last gotten laid?

Weeks? Months?

He pulled out just as quickly and unapologetically as before, slamming back into you with such force that you saw stars. You felt every inch of him; every single one of the studs that decorated his shaft. You pushed back against him as he took another few thrusts, enjoying the occasional grunts you got from him as he hit a particular angle.

He let go of your arms and you pressed them against the wall between your face and the bricks, leaning right over as he gripped your waist. There was no time for small talk or teasing; you’d already been caught once and didn’t particularly want to be again.

Dabi squeezed your hips tightly and took up such a fast pace that you squeezed your nails into your palms and dug your teeth into your bottom lip, the pressure inside of you threatening to boil over.

“Harder,” you snarled, harder!”

He did. He fucked you so hard that it hurt at first and you whimpered in pleasure at the growing pressure inside of you. It was like there was a coil deep inside of you, tightening and tightening until it was too much to bear.

You cried out as it broke and left you in freefall, pushing your forehead to the wall and relishing how very cold it was, at complete odds to the heat of your bodies. Dabi dug his nails into you, letting out a moan as you fluttered around him.

Your knees buckled, aftershocks of pleasure growing into something more. He reached for your hair and yanked you back, reaching down to run his fingers over your clit and chasing his own pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered in your ear and, in truth, you didn’t disagree.

He bit your neck as you came undone a second time, digging his teeth in hard enough to draw blood. 

“Fuck,” he said, taking his hand away from your clit and reaching up to squeeze the nearest breast, “fuck that’s good. Fuck...”

“Don’t you fucking dare cum inside me,” you moaned, the venom in your voice replaced with desperation as he tweaked your nipple.

“Come here,” he said, turning you round and pushing your back to the wall. You dropped back down onto your knees and wrapped your lips around his cock, bobbing your head slowly and deeply until he grabbed your hair again.

He didn’t fuck your mouth this time, instead holding you in place as he came, flooding your mouth with his cum. 

He pulled his dick from your lips and loosened his grip on your hair, stroking along your jawline and pulling your head backwards to get a good look on your face, pushing his thumb over your lips to make sure you swallowed. You closed your eyes, trying to savour each drop.

You were both flushed from the effort and release, both dark eyed and shuddering. It was like you were floating, all former pretenses forgotten. Maybe that was why he stroked your hair; perhaps even why you let him.

The moment eventually passed. You were suddenly hyper aware of the filthy alley you were squatting in; the cool night air against your body and muffled voices in the bar behind you. He stretched out a hand and you took it, legs trembling as you stood up straight. Both of you fiddled with your flies, adjusting yourselves in an awkward silence.

“You should think about it,” he said.

“Think about what?”

“Joining.”

You frowned, thinking back to the shitty bar, shitty drinks and even shittier attempt at a leader.

“Give me one good reason,” you said, folding your arms.

“I’m sure you’ll find one,” he said with a smirk, turning to return to the bar.

You watched him go, admiring his swaggering gait as he stuffed his hands in his pockets; the way he shot you a side glance before going back inside.

You reached up to touch your lips, tingling from where he crushed them with his thumb.

“Motherfucker,” you hissed under your breath.

[onfreckledwings]

how do you do it (make me feel like you do)

the “dean winchester deserved better” series carries on. ♥️ collaboration with @blacklightguidesnic *title from ‘stellar’ - incubus*

The air is different here. Charged and chilled, ebb and flow. The salt lingers in a tangible way that feels ancient and brand new all at once. There’s something to be said for sitting with your toes in the water as sequoias tower around you, taller than the hand of god himself. Dean chuckles at that, at the thought of being bigger than god. He was, truly. On the inside anyway.

The most gentle lake in the world laps at his ankles as he sits in relative silence. The calls of some random bird deep in the woods, the random air bubble from a nearby fish, and his own breathing are all that are left here. Calm. Serene. Copasetic. He feels on some level that maybe, just maybe, he really does deserve this.

He lays back on the porch that currently serves as a dock, keeping the house above the water but close enough for the swell to kiss his toes gently, like his skin is made of china. Toes still in the water, heaving a relaxed sigh, he can’t even find it in himself to be lonely. He can bare his soul to the water and never feel judged by the coolness of it all. No reason to wait, no reason to care.

That, and Cas is inside wrapped in a cashmere blanket, naked as the day Dean was born, so perhaps there is more to this relaxation and respite than just the scenery.

Yeah, definitely more.

Dean tilts his head back and closes his eyes, tugs at the quilt that cocoons him a little tighter. He’s not cold, not really. But there’s a slight chill in the breeze that he can hear in the branches high above before he feels it.

He finds himself—not for the first time since arriving here—truly in disbelief that this is his life now after everything he’s been through.

Their life now. He smiles at the thought.

He inhales, slow and deep and full, and the smell of the crisp, fresh new Earth surrounds him. There’s the touch of pine, the hint of the salty sea, and the fragrance of different flowers that are in bloom in the soft earth around him. He doesn’t know what kind they are, but they’re beautiful all the same.

Cas probably knows. Of course he does. Just like he knows every star, every constellation, every tree and berry and bush.

Just like he knows every freckle on Dean’s skin.

Dean slowly opens his eyes so that he’s looking at the house he shares with Cas. His home.

Their home.

Built of cedar, the Craftsman-style home sits nestled in the sloping mountainside with the back of it facing the salt water lake below. The rustic two-story has a wrap around porch along the first floor, and the second-floor master opens up to a balcony that faces the water. Hanging from every corner of the house are tall wood and glass lanterns, and at nighttime, the house is bathed in a soft orange glow. To Dean, it looks almost like there’s a halo wrapped around the roof. Smoke billows from the brick-layered chimney, and he can taste the faint smell of burning wood on his tongue.

It’s everything he could have ever dreamed of.

Hell, it’s more than he would have ever dared to dream of, if he is honest with himself. That orange glow is the backdrop to the ocean of blue that surrounds him, an ethereal afterglow that creeps into his being manifested in reality. All he can think of is how absolutely, blissfully perfect it all is.

Salt drifts through the air, clashing with the sequoias in a way that smells like peace after war. He can relate, he supposes. He has also found his peace in the air here; in the splinters that appear and disappear with the roughness of the deck, with the vastness of the sea. The stillness in the depths matches what he feels in his very soul, until a pair of tired blue eyes catches his attention from the stone walkway leading to the dock.

Cas is about fifty yards off, but even upside down, they’re the moon and the sun all at once. In that moment, the moon rises and sets, and it happens inside Castiel’s irises.

Dean can’t help the beaming grin that blooms across his face and the flurry of butterflies low in his stomach, especially as that blue eyed better half waltzes forward wearing nothing but a dangerously low hanging pair of grey sweatpants.

Men’s lingerie, Dean muses. It makes him laugh, and a sculpted eyebrow is lifted at him in question.

“What are you—“ Cas starts but is cut off as Dean holds his hands up like a camera.

“Wait Cas, hold up. Don’t move.”

Cas stills, shooting a quizzical look at Dean.

“Heh. You look like a bat. How’s it hangin’?”

Dean has to hold in a bark of laughter as Cas rolls his eyes into the back of his head, all dramatic, before dropping his chin to his chest.

Dean casts his eyes down (up? it’s confusing being upside down) to the front of Cas’s sweatpants.

“Wait, no. I can definitely see how it’s hangin’.”

Dean rolls onto his belly, full on wheezing from the intensity, and hilarity, of his own joke while Castiel tries to remain unamused. He drops his face into his palm and groans. “And to think I went to Hell for this,” Cas mutters in disbelief.

“Pfft. You love me,” Dean grins. “You know you fell for me the first time you ‘gripped me tight and raised me from perdition’”, he says with his best (worst) Castiel impression.

Cas shakes his head in mock misery, but Dean can see the crinkles in the corners of his eyes as he tries to stifle a smile.

Dean finally comes down off his own little cloud of laughter and rises to his feet, dripping perfect droplets of water onto the dock that leads to their perfect home.

Castiel approaches him, trying his best not to chuckle. He hugs Dean tight, right around his middle. Dean leans down to meet him, mouth for mouth for a chaste kiss. Dean’s arms wrap around Cas’s neck and he presses his nose into velvet black hair. The angel smells like an approaching storm. Absolutely perfect.

Castiel is still chuckling under his breath and Dean lifts his head to search brilliant blues.

“Cas? What’s so fu—”

Splash

Cas shoves him, hard, into the water and folds over in a full-on belly laugh.

Dean shoots up from the water, mouth gaping like a fish as he shakes his arms; he drops the soaked quilt that was previously wrapped around his body onto the deck with a plop.

“Seriously dude?! God!”

Cas huffs, crossing his arms. “Not God. Just his father. And you deserved it.”

Dean can’t help but throw his head back in laughter. “You little shit.” And then he’s reaching his arm behind his back before forcefully splashing Cas across his front. It’s met with a humorous shout.

“Might as well join me,” he says. And of course Cas does, because when has Cas ever denied Dean a thing?

He lowers himself into the water, sweatpants and all, and Dean reaches for his wrist to draw him close.

A drop in the ocean, in the vast sea of infinite perfection, and Dean is humbled beyond belief to just exist here: his own slice of paradise with an angel by his side. The love of his life, his missing puzzle piece, and a thousand other cliches that just happen to fit. For them.

It exists.

[tinkonka]

sou n shin oneshot i did (spoilers)?

i dont ship these two, i just had this idea! n well i wasn’t sure on how to end it,, but anyway enjoy. feedback appreciated!

Timid. That’s the best way you could describe someone like Shin Tsukimi. And it’s not a rare adjective as well — he’d have to say that almost everyone he came across had used that word in his presence. Frankly, if this was a few years ago, he wouldn’t have minded — but as he went on in years and his self esteem shrank with each life step, it seemed like more of a derogatory word nowadays. Although he knew he couldn’t do anything about it, he still complained. He wished he was more.

More like him. Sitting next to him in class, his gaze cast ahead towards the teacher rambling on about something to do with digestive systems, Sou was practically Shins polar opposite — tall, proper posture, upbeat and friendly — it was everything Shin wished he was. And though sometimes Sous eyes seemed to burn a hole into his own (more often than not), Shin felt a sort of pride knowing he could call him his friend. Someone big and dependable like him was good to keep around, right? It didn’t matter how many times he made Shin tremble with fear, he was his friend. They were best friends.

Lost in these types of thoughts, he seemed to snap to attention once the teacher had finished his sentence and was now going on about final reminders. He would’ve panicked for have not had taken notes, but it was the last period and Shin felt exhausted from the information he had retained over the day. Surely he could just study up with the textbook to get up to speed! Nothing to worry about, right?

As anxiety seemed to bite at his thoughts, the bell gave its usual ring and the sound of people pushing chairs against the squeaky floor and chatter distracted him from the thoughts. He wasn’t looking, but he could feel Sous stare piercing through him.

“Well, that was a rather boring session if I do say so!” His chipper tone brought Shin to look at him, bearing his usual bright grin. Shin nodded in agreement.

“I think I was too tired to pay attention, haha.” He remarked, pushing in his chair and shrugging on his bag. Sou tutted in disapproval, giving Shin a poke on the arm with a small giggle.

“My, my, you seem to get exhausted so easily. That’s not a good thing! Perhaps it’s because you’re quite scrawny, hm?” Sou spoke in a lighthearted tone, and Shin gave a small laugh (although it was a biting remark).

The two headed out the door, a firm hand placed on Shins shoulder so that the petite boy wouldn’t get lost in the sea of college students. Once they had made their way out, the hand was removed (much to Shins relief) and they were walking down their usual path.

“So! Any plans for tonight, Shin?” Sou broke the silence, casting a friendly glance downwards towards Shin. Shin gave a shrug in response.

“I dunno. Probably same as always. And you?”

“No need to worry about me!” came Sous reply, now staring ahead at the upcoming gates. “How about you try something new? Maybe hit the gym — you could use the exercise.”

“U-uh.. Maybe another time.” Shin dodged the question nervously, eyes now on the ground. “Besides, I have to walk home tonight. The buses aren’t coming, I think.”

“How unfortunate! Well, I wish you luck in your endeavour.” encouraged the taller man, the conversation coming to a close as they reached the place where they would part. “Be seeing you!”

“Yeah... see you, Hiyori.” Shin replied, giving a friendly wave as he turned his back on him and began walking. He anticipated the worst — exercise was definitely not his strong suit, and his home was a ways away. Plus the exhaustion of today was still lingering — life just seemed to never favour him. Heaving a sigh, he continued trekking on, eyes casted towards the ground.

Until he came into contact with something — man, had he not learned his lesson from  his first encounter with Sou? However, he managed to stay upright this time — which was a plus.

“Oh, so- sor—“

“Oh hey look!! It’s the tiny green twink!”

His blood ran cold as he glanced up at the man. Shin couldn’t remember his name, but his cold piercing gold glare and muscle bound arms, he could tell that this was bad news. Behind the man, there were two other men similarly built — strong jawed and buff builds.

“Wow, we managed to catch him without his boyfriend, haha!” The dark-haired one piped up, advancing towards Shin. Already trembling and fearing the worst, Shin took a step back with terror, eyes stuck on the man infront.

“Rare occurrence, really.” Spoke the red-head that Shin had so callously bumped into. The burly man bent down to Shins height with a mocking grin. “You deaf there, gay boy? Wanna use your words?”

“U- um- he’s— hes not my boyfriend.” Shin managed to heave out, his breathing coming in shakily and unsteadily. He was greeted by laughter — cruel, mocking laughter, one which Shin had wished he’d never have to endure. And yet here he stood, legs shaking underneath the unsettling air.

“Yeah, right, you cling onto him like some lost puppy. Get outta here.” the blonde one  laughed, taking his place on the right of Shin. “He must find you so cute! How is he in bed?”

Shins eyes widened at the lewd remark, both in fear and disgust. He wanted to bite back with his own comment, but his throat was clogged and he was too focussed on trying to keep the tears out of his eyes. He wasn’t weak, he wasn’t a pushover; this wasn’t going to break him.

“Pfft, cat got your tongue?” The ginger mused (obviously the leader of the pack). “Come on, answer him. Does it feel good?”

Words didn’t come at all. Shins mind was a mess of panicked thoughts and no response came to his lips.

The blonde ones expression morphed into one of annoyance. “Oi, it isn’t a little disrespectful to ignore someone. Come on, you freak, answer me!” He growled, placing his hands on Shins shoulders and shoving him back.

Shin fell over with ease, landing on his behind. He took no time scrambling to get back up, but his head was spinning. His hands seemed to be closing in on themselves involuntarily, and his cheeks were made aware of the hot tears now spilling down, dropping onto the floor.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t do anything but let the tears fall and hope that this situation would be over.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a green-haired boy throw a punch at his bullies. He couldn’t hear anything — his ears were ringing quite loud. Shutting his eyes with fear, he brought his knees to his chest and tried to breathe.

Pain, all he felt was pain, burning, searing pain, make it stop, please, stop—

“Shin.”

With a trembling jaw and sore eyes, Shin perked up to be met with familiar, piercing eyes. Though, accompanied by them, was a bloody gash on his cheek, and his smile was faltered.

Sou giggled. “My word, you’re awful at defending yourself. Your old pal had to come and save you!” He mused, smiling. Shin didn’t have the energy to smile back at all — something that usually came easy to him seemed like such a difficult task.

Sou stood up with a small sigh and offered his hand for Shin to take. Still in a daze, Shin took the hand and stood up, almost immediately falling into Sous chest.

“Did they hurt you?” Came Sous voice, his tone much more hushed than usual. They? Who’s they? As Shin scrambled his brain, the only thing that came to mind were piercing gold eyes. And something about that thought brought tears back to Shins eyes — though they felt all too familiar in this setting.

“There, there. You’re totally fine now.” Sou mumbled, welcoming Shins trembling shoulders and embracing him. Shin cried softly into the taller boys chest — there was a feeling of absolute terror still lingering, making his heart clench and palms sweaty. Beyond anything, though, he was exhausted — it was everything he could do to not let his knees cave in and fall to the ground. Sou seemed to take note of this as he put a firm hand on the back of Shin's head. The two stayed like that for a few minutes, not daring to move. It seemed... deathly silent. The sun was beginning to set - how long had Shin been immobile? Where were the people that had started to harass him? Did they leave after Sou had defended him? Why did they leave? Sou was certainly quite scary, but he wasn't built as strongly. ... Did they feel the same as Shin did? The paralyzing fear that seemed to plague him daily, whenever he looked into Sou's eyes? Confused, he let Sou take his hand and lead him out of the small alleyway, and before long they had arrived at Shin's house. Shin seemed to be in a daze as he did his nightly chores and climbed into bed, passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow. And the next day, when the teacher had announced that there were two students absent because they were hospitalized, Shin paid no mind. All he could think of were the bright blue eyes of his close, good friend. Just how dangerous was Sou Hiyori?

[captzexx]

Daily Writing Challenge

Day 1 - First/Explosion

Hammer blows echoed in the late afternoon air as the soft ocean breeze came in through the quiet ramparts of Fort Daelin. The smithy drawing to close of a work as the fires began to simmer to a low warmth for the night, sang its last songs of iron and sweat. A loud whistle would blow forth as cling and clangs of honest work silenced to be followed by the mortal words of workers. Upturned buckets, cries for ale, and the general milling of tradesmen gathering as they stalked out of the shop, their heavy boots thumping as they left for the evening. Trailing behind them all would come a fairly common pair, similar and different in the almost subtle and obvious ways.

A tall handsome woman with her hair held tight in a min shouldered a hammer with ease, her other hand deftly raising a dirty cloth to wipe sweat grime from her face. She was broad and strong, Kul Tiran as they come with thick arms for hoisting sail and the steady step of one born to sea. Sarasam Styrnlock was a woman born with an affinity for shaping metal as she was communing with the tides. An easy smile lit her face she walked with her companion, the easy banter common between the two. “Up fer a pint?”

Her companion was different in all kinds of ways, the most obvious being an elderly man with thick white mustaches and clean bald head that glistened with sweat and oil. A mass of scars, wrinkles, and manner of lines gave the impression of living history, in truth he was one of the few left with those memories. Despite time’s march his step matched hers easily, the gait they followed ingrained more in blood than friendship. Erlain Candell bore no hammer now but he did wipe his neck down with a similar rag, releasing a weary sigh. “Are you sure your old enough, Miss Styrnlock?”

“Pfft, blow it out yer arse, ol man.” Sarasam rolled her eyes at Erlain but smiled nonetheless as she stalked along with him. “Come on now, could use a beer after today. Wars cooled but damned if the orders don’t stop.”

“Your people need to rebuild their lives, Sara. It’s not easy.” Lain replies patiently as they walked out into the orange and red of the slow setting sun, their slowing as they reached the gate of the blacksmiths yard.

Sarasam once again rolled her eyes as they stopped to chat, shaking her head. “I know ya used to be a holier than thou type-“

“My faith has never faltered.”

Sara grimaced at being interrupted by the old man, who was doing his best to remain stern in the face of the younger woman. Blue eyes narrowing as she rolled her shoulders and set her hammer to the side. “Damnit Lain, can you just not interrupt me for once?”

There was no reply as she nodded to herself and began to speak again. “Like I was saying, you don’t have to lay on the sermons to me. I know we’re in quite a mess but we’ll come out of it. The Tidemothers with us and the fleets returned and the damn Dark Lady is gone. Can we have a moments peace? A moment to collect ourselves?”

There was silence again as Sarasam felt a weight on her shoulders that did not involve the weight of iron or the turn of steel. She had it on her for some time since she’d last ventured out to Drustvar and came into service with some Inquisitors heading off to Vol’Dun. She’d met a man, a man she suspected of being more than a comrade in arms to her. That man of course was linked to her friend here and if that was the case, then they too shared a bond beyond work.

“Lain something has been digging at me for some time, and I need to talk to you about it.” Sarasam lowered her eyes to cross her arms about her stomach, a nestling ache at what she suspected. “I need to talk to you about a man I met some time ago.”

There was silence still as she turned to look at her friend, the world tumbling as she felt an odd burn in her eyes and throat. “His name was Eld.”

Erlain was slumped on the ground, resting on his knees as if in prayer with palms open and knuckles in the dirt. His head was bowed and face hidden in his chest, motionless and silent in the waning sunset of a coming autumn night.

Sara stared speechless at Lain, her hands falling away from her stomach as fast as the earth was beneath her feet to bring her to her knees before him. By now the burning in her eyes had released a steady stream of tears as she reached a shaky hand out to his bent head. Rough fingertips touched the toughened skin and gently traced around his cheek to his neck. No response. No reaction. No beat.

Erlain Candell was gone.

@daily-writing-challenge

@erlaincandell @gatesofthetroupe @eldridgecandell