#ONE OF THE MOMENTS STARDUST WOULD BE QUESTIONING THEIR DECISION

[chipper-smol]

when you meant to do the hang out at the favor tree to show Siffrin how the loops aren't triggered by the death of their friends, but instead they went sleepies and you didnt have the heart to wake them

so now you're realizing this whole plan was dumb from the start because knowing your friends had to go through the entire house and face the King alone makes you sadsies

:)

[lohotine]

``Drunk? Not Me!``

□ Ie: What they're like when they're drunk □

▪︎ Multiple x GN! Reader ▪︎

Ft: Shadow Milk, Stardust, Black Sapphire

CW: Drunk (character), Stardust calls reader pretty but it's still GN, slight suggestive themes in Black Sapphire's, but still SFW.

-Lightly proofread

Shadow Milk

Okay. So realistically he's probably the quiet drunk that contemplates his life decisions, but I'm not trying to write someone having an existential crisis rn, so you can have the talkative one instead. That's probably better reading material anyway, right?

"Hey... 'm not even that drunk... just one kiss?" He shifts closer to you on the bed, hands snaking around your waist as your back is pushed against his chest.

"You told me not to let you kiss me because you'd be 'out drinking ambroisia with the other beasts'." You crossed your arms, not turning to face him. Was it petty? Perhaps...

To be fair; he also said he wouldn't drink that much, yet here he is, clinging to you like some lost child.

He whined and pressed his head into the crook of your neck. "Dumb mortals... Can't even taste ambrosia without dying.. so stupid."

You sighed. He really is such a loser sometimes.

Suddenly, he would perk up and place his chin on your shoulder. "Go get me water."

Rude.

"What happened to please and thank you?"

"Go get me water. Thank you."

This guy...

You ended up getting his water anyway. (He'd only get more cranky without it.)

"Here's your water." You held it out for him, to which he accepted.

"Much better." He placed the cup down on a nearby table after drinking it, a small clink sounding in the room when he does so.

"You know," he began to say, watching you sit back down on the bed, "it was pretty fun. Mystic Flour kept swearing, and Eternal Sugar passed out halfway through." He would grin at the thought. "Lightweights! Am I right?"

You nodded half-mindedly before he laid his head in your lap, closing his eyes.

It was odd, to say the least. Usually, he isn't one to initiate moments like these... being as emotionally stubborn as he is.

You'd gently run your fingers through his hair. "I'm glad you had fun," you'd say.

The both of you would remain there for a while, a silence overcoming you both. It was nice. In that moment, words weren't needed.

He then slowly opened his eyes, just gazing at you softly. He pushed himself off of your lap and gently cupped your face with his hands. "I want you to kiss me. Why won't you kiss me?" He whined once more.

"Because you were drinking ambrosia. You know, you could have just drank regular alcohol..." you mumbled, pushing his face away from yours.

He frowned at the statement. "You're so mean t'me... you know that? Burning Spice would never let me hear the end of it. Do you know how embarrassing it would be for me to drink regular wine?"

Of course that's what he's worried about.

You begin to coat his face in feathery light kisses. One here, one there. Just to hopefully get him to shut up. "Better?"

You don't miss how his gaze falls elsewhere. Or how his breath hitches slightly when you pull away. "No," he mumbles.

Liar...

Stardust

Very much a lightweight... but at least he's happy, right? He's legit so in love with you- I kinda headcanon that he makes bird noises when he's happy because his other form looks kind of like a bird- sorry, am I being weird?

"You're so pretty..." he would murmer against your ear, his stary cape swaying before wrapping itself around the both of you.

You're sure he was during it subconsciously, and it would be nice... if it weren't for the fact that he runs so cold.

"Stardust, you're freezing..."

He gives a small hum in a response, then a small sorry that's barely audible. He rests his head on your shoulder, and you can't resist the small smile that appears on your face.

Black Sapphire

You gently scratch the bottom of his chin, earning a coo from him.

"I love you," he'd say mindlessly. "do you love me too?"

The question makes you chuckle. "Of course..."

Stardust would gently tilt your chin up with his index finger. "I wanna hear you say it.."

You intertwined your pinky with his; then your entire hand, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You can still taste the feint residue of wine on them before pulling away.

"I love you," you'd say.

He just continues staring into your eyes, almost breathless. Your eyes seemed as though they held the entire universe in them. (Oh dear... was that too cheesy of him?)

(It was true though. At least to him.)

"I love you too..." he repeated once more. Stardust wasn't sure how many times he'd repeat that exact sentence throughout the night...

Though rest assured, him saying it in abundance doesn't make it any less true.

Tell me this man can't keep his hands off of you. He's legit so down bad. (SIMP) It's okay, me too <333

Your fingers worked to slowly remove his tie, his wings fluttering behind him at the action.

It was cute, really. How you could tell exactly what he was thinking because of them.

"Your hands always feel so good.." he'd mumble mindlessly.

"Mmmm, is that so?"

He presses a kiss to your temple, giving a small hum in response. "You should've been there..." his kisses began to trail down your neck. "-missed you."

You eye him.

"Well, someone had to stay sober to take care of you. You're such a sloppy drunk, you know..."

You could feel his grin against your neck. "I can't help it when 'm with you." One of his hands moved to grab your chin, adjusting your head so he had a better view of your neck.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" You ask acusingly.

"Just giving my significant other some well-deserved love for taking such good care of me," he'd coo. The statement earned a glare from you.

"I don't think so. Not when you're this drunk." Seriously, where was his shame? He was normally much more of a gentleman!

He released your chin shortly after that before staring at you with eyes that held very little thought behind them, though his grin remained. "Suit yourself."

He managed to behave himself for a total of seven seconds before folding once more.

"But don't you think it's a bit cruel to deprive me of any kisses? I work very hard, don't I?" He leaned in closer towards you, his nose brushing against yours.

"I suppose, but what does that have anything to do with me kissing you?"

He places his hands on your hips, sighing at the statement, "You're heartless, denying an intoxicated man of his pleasure... This'll keep me up until daybreak, you know."

You rolled your eyes. He was being dramatic again. His nagging would continue all night if you didn't give him what he wanted.

So, to much of your dismay, (but to much of his pleasure!) you ended up giving this needy man his kiss.

(He quickly stole another one from you as well, but you decided not to scold him for it.)

His wings flitted for the second time that night, and he smiled contently. "Sweet... I could get drunk off your lips instead."

"Yeah yeah," you'd mumble before finnally pulling him into bed. "Can we sleep now?"

He rested his chin on the top of your head. "I suppose..."

You closed your eyes and felt the fuzziness of sleep take over you pretty quickly. You'd never admit it to him, but you also ended up missing him quite a bit...

[mbg159]

What Your Favorite Yu-Gi-Oh! 5Ds Girl Says About You

[Main Girls Only][DM][GX]

Aki Izayoi/Akiza Izinski (likes the second half of the series): You are pretty chill, and almost definitely a Faithshipper. You’re very fond of doing all kinds of scenarios of their first meeting. You write at least one thing per day appreciating her development. You really, really like the rollerskates episode. Even if it could have been better, you still love Yusei giving her Stardust. You get really sad during the ending, but you know in your heart of hearts that they definitely kissed offscreen.

Aki Izayoi/Akiza Izinski (dislikes the second half of the series): You got the taste of a girl who was straight-up unhinged, and you've been chasing that high ever since. You find bondage jokes incredibly funny. You have at least one very strong opinion about Crow. Despite your feelings on the second half (most of which can be described as "seething"), you have a soft spot for Sherry. To this day, her battle theme still generates a Pavlovian response of swooning tears in you.

Ruka/Luna: Your soul aches every day for her wasted potential. You started reading the manga the moment you saw scans of how it did her. You were very surprised when Ancient Fairy Dragon got banned. You have edited characters to be wearing flower crowns at least once. You’re still not quite sure what to think about her brother, but you definitely wish Life Stream had showed up earlier. You spent eighty episodes waiting for a followup for the end of Ep. 67, and are still waiting.

Carly Nagisa/Carly Carmine: You are a Scoopshipper, with no questions asked. You were utterly horrified when you found out about the cult thing (even if your source may have been somewhat inaccurate). You refuse to rewatch the second half of the series, and have devoted lengthy fanfics to what really happened afterward. You aren’t sure if you like nerds or goths, and you’re glad you don’t have to choose. You have tried to do Fortune Fairy-based readings in real life.

Misty Lola/Misty Tredwell: You may be into Isolationshipping or you may be into Omenshipping, but regardless of where you fall, you are certain she loves women. You saw that bit where she cradles Carly’s face and went “god, that girl is lucky.” Your favorite part of the whole DS arc was when she has Ccaryhua swallow Divine whole. You are very, very angry she’s not in Duel Links yet. (Like, I wrote this in 2021 originally, and she's still not in it? What?)

Sherry LeBlanc: You actually don’t hate the second half, but it’s largely due to her. You have either watched Revolutionary Girl Utena, or have been told several times that you should watch it. You may not be a Roseknightshipper, but you definitely have an LGBT headcanon. You have mixed feelings about how her arc ended, and would have preferred if the entire season was just her running around kicking stuff.

Martha: You hate every single other parent in every other series because you have seen her episodes and beheld a standard none have yet lived up to. She takes no shit, she's a rain of sunlight in a land of misery, she sacrifices herself tragically. Why the fuck did she barely appear after Dark Signers? You just want to talk to the person who made that decision, you say while loading a shotgun.

Mikage Sagiri/Mina Simington: You may be a Careshipper whose favorite arc is Fortune Cup, or an Ushio/Mikage shipper whose favorite arc is Dark Signers. Either way, you just really, really like office ladies, okay? You either think she's cute, relate to her beleaguered nature, or both. Also, did you know there's no ship name for Ushio/Mikage? I didn't until recently, but you definitely do.

Stephanie: Man, you picked the biggest third wheel in the entire franchise and a woman who only appears in the second half to be your fave, huh? That takes a lot of guts. And to my immense surprise, despite her entire existence being "waitress" and "one-note obsession with Jack Atlas", you have decided your OTP with her is Carly. Rock on, Stephanie fans, you make the world brighter.

Misaki: You decided to go dumpster-diving in the video games and found a gem. You understand that the only thing that could have made Bruno's arc better is if he was also Rei Ayanami. The bit at the end where she finally smiles melted your heart like butter in the sunrise. You insist Watts are underrated. You sadly know deep down that there's a reason the only female Yliaster member is non-canon.

[asacredthebread]

Petrichor.

The late nights were always your favorite.

Spending your time in the garden, huddled around the firepit, talking about anything and everything.

He had pulled his hair into a low bun as he watched the flames, Rose laying quietly at his feet.

You couldn’t help but to look at him, as the bright orange illuminated his face so beautifully - every freckle, every dimple, dip, and edge, as perfect as could be.

He was composed of stardust, filled with the hope of the world. You had always been told that you’d know when you had found the one, but in this moment, it truly hit you.

His eyes met yours, and he smiled. Damn, that smile.

He glowed as brightly as the sun itself, dimmed only by the moonlight that danced across the sky.

He was a kaleidoscope of wonders, somehow finding a way to chase away each and every one of your fears. You had never felt so exhilarated, yet so safe.

His voice was soft when he finally spoke once more.

“You know I love you, right?” he hummed, leaning forwards ever so slightly.

“Each and every day, my love for you only grows.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face as he patted his hand onto the seat next to him, beckoning for you.

You obliged quickly, seating yourself by his side.

The tour had been long, and strenuous, but he was finally home, and all yours.

The rain that had fallen that day had soaked into the ground, littering the leaves with a soft glow. Each time the flames blew in their direction, they would be illuminated like fireflies, reflections dancing across the grass.

He leaned back in his seat, raising his hands behind his head. You mimicked him, following his eyes threw the stars that adorned the sky.

In this moment, it felt as if nothing mattered, as if the world could end right now, and you wouldn’t even notice.

He had brought an unexpected peace into your life, a softness that you had come to love.

You had never thought that you’d end up here, with him sat by your side.

Growing up had been a long journey - watching him struggle with his ideas of the future, whether he’d follow music, or something else.

You had supported him thoroughly, regardless of what decision he would finally come to.

In all honesty, you were ecstatic when he had chosen to follow his brothers. It was beautiful to watch him play - the way that his hands would move so effortlessly, pulling calculated sounds from the strings that lay in his hands.

He was much more than just a musician - he had a way of commanding an instrument in a way that you had never seen before, a certain mannerism about him that dripped with confidence.

You remembered when he left for the first tour - promising to call each and every night. You would watch his eyes slowly fall closed whenever he would call you after a show, clearly doing his best to remain awake for you.

It was endearing, how hard he had tried to remind you that he was there, that he was thinking about you.

Him finally coming home was your favorite part of it all - being able to wrap your arms around him and keep him there, the two of you in a world of your own.

Turning to face him once more, you noticed that he was once again watching the flames bounce across the coals, as if performing a show, intertwining with each other, before separating once more.

“What’re you thinking about?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.

“The future” he replied, not looking up.

“The future?” you questioned.

“The future. The people of the past built with mud, and straw, and they fell. The Romans built with stone, and gold, and they still fell. What do I build with?” he postulated.

“What do you build with?” you whispered.

“What do I build with?”

You sat back once more, pulling your knees to your chest, as you thought for a moment.

“You build with words. You build with music. You build with a love that can’t be lost. You build with the essence of the summer breeze, and the winter chill. You build with a fervent passion, and an unwavering understanding.

You do not build with mud. You do not build with stone. You build with something that cannot be held. You build with something that cannot be knocked, or trodden on. You build with something that can only remain. You build with hope, and love, and passion.

You build a world that is worth living in - a structure that cannot be destroyed, or broken down. You build with a purpose, that is something that can’t be said for those men of the past.

And you’re not them, Sam. You’re something different altogether. The songbirds sing for you, the fish school together for you, and the breeze pulls the leaves from the trees only for you.”

As you finished your thoughts, he finally turned to look at you, standing up from his seat. Before you had the chance to speak once more, you felt him pressed against the back of your seat, his knees placed gently into the dirt, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You could feel the smile on his face as he pressed his lips to your cheek, before burying his face into your shoulder.

“How do you always know what to say?” he asked, his voice muffled as Rose stood up, jumping into your lap without a care in the world.

“I blame you - you have brought me more joy than I could possibly express, all that I can ask for is that I can give you back even half of that back”

“I love you more than words can say” he finally replied after a moment of silence.

You hummed in response, turning to plant a soft kiss on his head.

[kokinu09]

The Alien Armada Series

Disconnect

A/N: Long time no see! With Z4’s announcement, I decided to jump back into one of my many WIPs and came across this one that was a quarter of the way finished! Enjoy~

Toes the line of T —> M but I’m not changing the rating. Nothing explicit.

~*~*~*~

Being the Armada leader of a telepathic species meant having quiet moments with her own thoughts was rare for A-dison. It seemed like there was always someone chirping into her mind with a question or request for her opinion.

The majority of the time, she didn’t really mind. It was natural to their people. But her time on Earth began to make her question whether she enjoyed letting everyone into her mind so freely.

This day in particular had her questioning their extraterrestrial habit.

‘A-dison, the transmission division is doing maintenance on Mothership this evening.’ A-spen’s voice chimed in her mind.

‘Wonderful. Thank you for the update, A-spen.’ She replied silently as she applied a new lip gloss Bree had suggested for her date with Zed tonight.

‘I donated my thermal overgarment to a human who was displeased by the temperature so they would stop their constant complaining. Can I borrow one of your extras, A-dison?’ A-li asked, sounding very annoyed to begin with.

‘Of course. I always keep an extra in the Command Room aboard Mothership. Feel free to take that one.’ A-dison offered through the mind link. At the same time finished her lips with a pop and set the tube aside.

She stared at herself in the mirror; blue hair curled, makeup done, lips plump from her new gloss. The dress she’d picked out at a human shop felt soft, flowy, and breathable on her body. A very pleasant contrast to the skin-tight bodysuits she was accustomed to. But it still hugged her waist just enough to show off her curves perfectly. She smiled at her reflection, excitement and space moths fluttering in her stomach thinking about showing Zed this new look.

‘I’ve decided to participate in an event called “The Olympics”. It consists of numerous competitions on strength, speed, and endurance.’ It was A-lan this time, interrupting her thoughts. A-dison audibly huffed in frustration. But before she could reply, another voice piped in.

‘Do you think you should leave the humans something of their own to compete over?’ A-spen asked curiously.

There was a brief pause before A-lan answered. ‘The joy of competition has consumed me and, unfortunately, I am just so good at winning.’

A-dison’s annoyance rose as A-spen went back and forth with A-lan about his decision inside her head. But she took a deep breath and let it go, opting to try tuning them out as she finished getting ready.

That was until—

‘A-dison?’ She froze at A-spen calling her name. ‘You’ve been quiet for all of this. Would you like to offer your opinion?’

‘Um! I, uh,’ she tried piecing together a response, ‘A-lan is allowed to make his own choices. We should let him explore his emotions!’ She mentally patted herself on the back for managing to come up with something halfway believable on such short notice.

‘Hm, that is a good point.’ A-spen agreed, sounding calculated and almost hesitant.

‘Excellent! I am eager for the humans to eat my stardust!’ A-lan then added proudly, ‘I’m practicing the “trash talking”.’

A-dison chuckled to herself at his excitement, happy that her people were having such fun in their new home. A gentle smile graced her lips as she finished the last few things she needed to be ready for her date.

~*~

For the thousandth time, A-dison mentally responded to another question posed by the maintenance team to her via the mind link. She hadn’t even realized her expression had blanked out, again, until Zed was snapping her out of her internal conversation with a clear of his throat.

She blinked rapidly as she refocused on the green-haired boy in front of her once more. “I am sorry, what were you saying, Zed?”

She didn’t miss how his smile had already dropped and his shoulders sagged in disappointment. “Uh, nevermind, it’s not important.” He sighed, poking his half-melted froyo with his spoon.

“But it is important,” A-dison insisted as she reached a hand out to touch his free one. “I enjoy hearing about your interests.”

He glanced up at her from under his lashes skeptically, trying to tell if she was messing with him or not. “No offense but you don’t seem very interested to hear me talk about football.”

She quickly shook her head with wide eyes in denial. “No, I very much am interested, Zed! Listening to you speak of something you’re so passionate about has my chest warming to magnitudes that rival the sun!”

Zed ducked his head shyly, the tips of his ears burning red as he couldn’t help but smile and laugh. His smile doesn’t fade as his fond eyes lift to look at her, his hand squeezing hers as he once again abandons his spoon in favor of drinking her in. “I believe you, Addy.” He assured her, then tilted his head towards the door. “Why don’t we get out of here, it’s getting pretty crowded. Maybe we can watch a movie or something at my place?”

Her eyes lit up at the suggestion, taking one last bite of her vanilla froyo before she jumped up from her seat. “Yes, let’s! The prospect of getting the ‘cuddles’ while watching a fictional dramatization depicting the culture of your plant sounds wonderful!”

Zed can’t help but chuckle, getting up and happily taking her hand as they exit the popular froyo shop to head for Zed’s house.

~*~

Earth’s customs still confused A-dison at times but she could really get used to these films they call ‘RomComs’. Not only did they help her understand Earth dating culture slightly better, a great source material for research, but she also found them incredibly enjoyable. Even if she had to occasionally avert her focus to answer someone popping into her mind link. The story was still lighthearted with plenty of opportunities for laughter and she found herself glancing up at Zed every time something romantic happened between the protagonists.

Maybe their story could have been in one of these ‘RomCom’ movies.

She absentmindedly played with a button on his shirt as the movie went on. Her fingers tracing the circular pattern above his heart.

Zed had seen this movie a hundred times over the years, one of his favorites if he was honest. And he knew what was coming. It was almost to the great climax where the guy confesses to the girl. The groundbreaking moment when they leap into each other’s arms to share their first kiss and live happily ever after.

Zed knew exactly what was able to happen. So why was he so nervous about it?

Oh yeah. The girl he’s in love with is cuddled in his arms and is about to witness a very passionate kissing scene probably for the first time and he most definitely wants to replicate said scene with her. And he inwardly wondered if she would want to kiss him too.

The way her delicate fingertip drew shapes over his hammering heart made him wonder if she could tell. Did she know what she was doing to him? Was she doing it on purpose to tease him? No. As much as he would enjoy being teased by the alien, she was way too naive to know how much of an effect something so small had on him. Only because it was her doing it.

The scene began to play out on the screen. As the man confessed his feelings to the leading lady, Zed’s cheeks burned but he still tightened his hold around her shoulders, rubbed his hand up and down her arm in a gentle gesture.

A-dison didn’t pay his movements any mind, eyes fixed on the screen. Tears were welling up in the actress’s eyes as a smile spread across her face. A-dison felt her heart begin to race, unsure of how they would further express their love. The human woman rushed forward and the man did the same until they were embracing, A-dison’s hold instinctively tightened around the man in her own arms.

Zed pulled her that much closer, his eyes ignoring the movie in favor of gagging her reaction, completely mesmerized by how beautiful she is when she’s focused.

The characters stared into each other’s eyes, transfixed on seeing into their lover’s soul, seeing the love reflecting equally as passionately as their own. He started leaning in, his eyes flickering to her lips, hers hooded with anticipation. A breath is lodged in A-dison’s throat as she held it there, watching at the edge of her seat to see how the humans express their true feelings for one another.

Because even as an alien, she knows intimacy when she sees it.

The moment their lips had touched, A-dison let out a quiet gasp. She watched their expressions, trying to read how they were feeling, the music swelling into a dreamy euphoria as an assistive depiction.

Suddenly, she turned to Zed. Her eyes were wide and wild as they bounced around his face, something he had never seen with her.

“Zed,” she breathed, “can I— we— I would really like to experiment with you what they are doing.” She finally rambled out, already scooting herself up and closer to him for better access to his mouth. He couldn’t help but chuckle, cheeks burning from her bluntness.

“Yeah Addy, you can kiss me. I’d like that too.” He confessed, eyes flicking to her glossy lips.

Her heart was beating harder than it ever had before. There was a brief second that she worried it was going to explode right there in her chest.

He allowed her to make the move, giving her as much time and space as she needed. As she grew closer, he could feel her warm breath fan over his lips, subconsciously wetting them with his tongue in anticipation. A small noise falling from her as she caught sight of the movement.

She wasn’t even sure why the sight of the appendage felt so attractive to her. But the prospect of what it might feel like to taste him made her legs begin to shake.

There was a momentary pause, a hesitation from her inexperience. Her eyes slipped back up to meet his, big blue orbs full of innocence and begging for guidance. His heart melted with adoration, his hand reaching to cup her cheek gently. He closed the gap.

Their lips touch light as a feather and A-dison worried for a moment that her stardust spark had gone haywire again. But when she peeks her eyes open when they pull back, Zed showed no sign of being in pain, eyes still closed and a blissful smile gracing his features.

When Zed finally opened his eyes to see her reaction, his smile widened. The 1000-watt smile that lit up her face made the whole botched date worth it. Watching this cheeky movie was the best choice he’d ever made in his life.

“Oh, Zed!” She said in breathless eagerness. “That was interstellar!” He ducked his head shyly but the wide smile he wore didn’t falter. “May we please engage in more of the kissing?” She nearly begged.

“Of course, Baby,” his eyes softening as he tucked a stray blue curl behind her ear. “As you said, we have all the time in the galaxy.”

~*~

Even after nearly 15 minutes, A-dison was still far from getting bored of this newfound connection she could feel with Zed. Their lips locked and tongues tangled in this unknown dance of passion. Her legs seated on either side of his hips, his hands on her waist while hers cup his cheeks, tangle in his hair.

Now and then she managed to pull the sweetest noises from him; soft gasps, needy moans. Not that she was fairing much better. But she craved to hear more out of him, testing how different touches and pressures on certain parts of his body drew the sounds louder from deep in his throat.

Her lips trailed down the strong line of his jaw, experiencing with gentle scrapes of her teeth along his skin. Trailing down the column of his throat and giving the tender flesh a trustingly harder bite—

‘Greetings A-dison!’ A-spen’s voice rang loudly in her mind. Being startled with her teeth against her lover’s neck, her jaw clamped unexpectedly and made Zed yelp. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting your evening!’

A-dison quickly pulled back. “Zed! Are you ok?! I am so sorry!” She apologized frantically, checking the spot on his neck for any punctures that might need attention. Sighing in relief at finding none too serious.

“I’m ok, don’t worry,” he assured her with a flushed smile, still affected by their extended make-out session. “What happened? Are you ok?”

“Uh, yeah! I’m alright!” She let out a nervous laugh but quickly decided she could not keep trying to hide it from him. With a heavy sigh, she opened her mouth to explain—

‘Ummm? Hello? A-dison? Are you conscious? Do I need to call the medics?’ A-spen once again interrupted.

‘I am fine, A-spen! No need to alert the medics. I was just, in the middle of something.’ She replied in the mind link.

‘Oh! Apologies! I will allow you to complete your task and return with my inquiry shortly!’ And with that, they were gone again.

“—dison? A-dy? Are you sure you’re ok?” Zed’s worried voice broke through her thoughts, hands gently gripping her shoulders.

“Yes! I’m fine! I-I’m sorry Zed,” she murmured, dropping her head in defeat. Unsure of what to do now. “I have not been completely honest with you this evening.”

Zed blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, Baby? Is something the matter?” His brows furrowed with concern.

“No no, there’s not anything wrong with me. It has more to do with…my nature.” She admitted. “I’m sure you have heard about our mind linking abilities?” Seeing him nod along, she went on. “They are doing maintenance on Mothership as we speak and all night I have been intercepting communications with the crew. Answering questions, giving my opinion, or advice,” she listed off with another sigh. “And just now, I had gotten surprised by A-spen popping in out of nowhere and ended up almost hurting you.” She said, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

When she opened her eyes again, he could see the frustration and sincere apology swimming in her stormy blue orbs. “I never meant to ignore you, or hurt you! I wanted our date to be special and all I did was mess it up…”

Zed lifted his hand to cradle her jaw cheek, stroking his thumb across her cheekbone affectionately. “You didn’t mess up anything, A-dy. Tonight has been one of the best nights of my life!”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkling with hope.

“Yeah, really.” He assured her, leaning back in for a soft kiss to her lips. “And if you wanna continue where we left off~,” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, “maybe you can just cut the connection for a little while? It can be just us for a bit.”

She wanted to mentally smack herself. Why hadn’t that option even crossed her mind?

Without a second thought, she zoned into the universe mind link with her people. ‘Greetings everyone. For the remainder of the evening, I will be unavailable via mind link. Please refer questions to A-spen, as my second in command, or I will be available to answer tomorrow morning. Thank you.’

Then she disconnected. Not waiting for a response. Not explaining herself further. Just disconnected.

There was a strange wave of relief that washed over her in that moment. Relief of the responsibilities. Relief in knowing no one would pop into her head without warning or consent. Relief of knowing she could relax for once.

And the adrenaline rushing through her veins from actually doing it!

Her wide, wild gaze snapped to Zed’s. He could practically feel the shift in her energy, his hands sliding back to their comfortable place at her hips giving them a light squeeze of encouragement.

“Now where were we?” She teased before diving back in for more of those delicious kisses.

[sllverchariot]

Get to You (Polnareff x Reader) Chapter Four

You're a bright eyed and ambitious Anthropology student, just setting off for the international vacation of your dreams. Just days into your trip, however, you encounter a devious and charming man who would set into motion a string of events that would change your life forever, for better or for worse.

♡ word count - 1.2k ♡ warnings - some brief mentions of previous trauma/emotional abuse/manipulation/cheating ♡ notes - this is crossposted on ao3 under the same username as here. there are currently eight chapters written and posted over there so i'll be working on posting them here as well. this fic follows the events of stardust crusaders with some changes obviously. enjoy!!!

When you woke the next morning, Polnareff had already left the room. You scrambled out of bed, worried that the group might have left you behind. You quickly got ready and dashed out, nearly forgetting the room key in your haste. 

When you arrived in the lobby, the rest of your group was already there. They all turned to look at you as you walked up, but Polnareff quickly averted his eyes when you met his gaze, and crossed his arms. 

“Gooood morning sleepyhead! Hope you slept well, ‘cause we’ve got a big day ahead of us today!” Announced Mr. Joestar, and clamped a hand on your shoulder. You chuckled awkwardly. “We’ll go get some breakfast and strategize a little bit.”  

The six of you left the hotel and walked to a restaurant nearby. You started to drift towards the back of the group, walking in silence as you watched the men converse. You started to feel like the odd one out, for a multitude of reasons, and felt the doubt creeping in. You wondered if you had made the right decision, inviting yourself on this journey. 

Thankfully, you arrived at the restaurant before you could get too lost in your own thoughts. The six of you were seated by the hostess at a round table, and began browsing the menus. The five men chattered about their arrival to India, while you sat quietly, pondering what to order. 

“It’s a hell of a lot of culture shock though. Guess I’ll like it once I get used to it huh?” Polnareff said, reaching for his bag next to the table. “Well, I guess people adapt to their surroundings eventually.” He stood up from the table, bag in tow, and turned to a waiter. “Where’s the john?” The waiter motioned to the back of the building. 

“Polnareff, aren’t you going to order first?” Questioned Joseph. 

“Pick for me, it’d better be something amazing! Something gorgeous and sophisticated that suits a Frenchman such as moi.” Polnareff announced as he trekked off to the bathroom. You watched as Mr. Joestar stared in shock, mouth agape, and had to hold yourself back from making a similar expression. 

“Which means it doesn’t matter, he’ll eat anything.” Stated Kakyoin, which pulled Joseph out of his trance. The group continued to chatter about what to order, and moments later you heard commotion coming from the direction of the bathroom. 

“Sounds like Polnareff is having bathroom troubles again.” Said Mr. Joestar, and you laughed. You wondered what else had happened to prompt this comment. 

“Good grief.” Mumbled Jotaro, and Kakyoin laughed. 

  While Polnareff struggled in the bathroom, the rest of your group placed their orders, and the food was brought out in no time. It was mostly quiet, while the five of you ate, until Polnareff came bounding out of the bathroom and shouting. 

He yelled about a stand user, “the man with two right hands”, while the other restaurant patrons looked on in confusion. He suddenly made a beeline for the front door, and the rest of your group exchanged looks.

”Wait here, (Y/n). We’ll be back.” Instructed Joseph, as the men followed Polnareff out the front door. You were left to sit alone, at a complete loss. You could see the men through the window, standing outside the restaurant.

Finally, you waved down the waiter and fished out some cash to pay for the groups bill. As you got ready to follow everyone outside, you caught a glimpse of a heated argument between Polnareff and Avdol unfolding out front. 

When you finally caught up with them outside, you caught the tail end of Polnareff’s bitter words towards Avdol, before the Frenchman gave him an aggressive finger jab in the chest and walked off.

You all stood in silence for a moment, watching Polnareff leave. It was so strange as he left your group behind, despite your anger and annoyance towards the Frenchman, you felt a twinge in your heart as the two of you parted ways.

-

Later that day, the now five of you regrouped at the hotel’s restaurant. The rest of the afternoon was quiet, and tense. You picked at the meal in front of you, feeling even more awkward and anxious than before.

“So he really didn’t come back after all.” Joseph said, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence. The five of you stared at the empty seat at the table, and you couldn’t help but wonder where Polnareff had ended up. You were certain the others were thinking the same. 

After the way things unfolded today, you started to feel even worse about the way you treated Polnareff the night before.

”He may come around yet. Grief makes people do crazy things.” You muttered, still pushing around the untouched food on your plate.

”We’ll see.” Avdol stated, and you let out a small sigh, the gloom in the air weighing heavily over everyone.

-

After dinner, Avdol disappeared. There was some discussion, and the group decided to spit and look for him around the city, while you were chosen to stay back in case he returned to the hotel.

You waited impatiently in the lobby, too anxious to do anything for fear of missing him. Still, you were finding it hard to sit still. You sat quietly, watching the other people inside mill about, and playing with the hem of your dress.

Finally, you picked up a travel magazine from the small stack on the coffee table in front of you, and lazily flipped through it. Desperately trying to distract yourself from the growing dread in your gut.

With the way things unraveled today, you couldn’t help but feel as if you played some part in Polnareff’s decision to leave. You felt unbelievably anxious as the guilt wracked your body. 

It felt like forever since they’d all left, and you prayed that everyone would return soon. 

Everything felt so odd. Although you’d only met these men yesterday, you already felt so attached. Perhaps the instant bond came from finally finding people who could understand you. 

-

A choir of voices rustled you from your dream. When you finally opened your eyes, you realized you’d fallen asleep in your spot in the hotel lobby. You rubbed your eyes, scanning your surroundings, when you realized the group had returned, Polnareff included. 

You smiled softly as your eyes wandered over the group of men, until it dawned on you. Despite the return of Polnareff, Avdol was nowhere to be seen, but in his place stood a young woman. 

You furrowed your brows as your mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion. 

“Where’s Avdol?” You questioned, concern laced in your voice as you jumped up quickly from your seat.

Joseph put a hand on your shoulder. “There was a fight. Avdol… was protecting Polnareff.” With that, you shot a glance towards the Frenchman, who was utterly oblivious as he fawned over the group's newest companion. “We weren’t able to save him… But we gave him a proper send off the best we could.” Joseph continued, and your heart twisted. You’d just met the man, but still you were devastated. 

“Who was it? The man with two right hands?” You questioned, and Joseph nodded.

”Yes. And another stand user, Hol Horse.” That name, Hol Horse, rang familiar in your mind, though you couldn’t quite make out why.

The air was tense, clouding over everyone besides the Frenchman, who gushed over his new lady incessantly. Your eyes narrowed, watching him fawn and blush over the young woman. 

Your jaw hung open as you watched him. “Are you kidding me? Avdol just… just died and you-“ You cut yourself off, and took a breath, turning away from the two of them. “Never mind, let's just go.” 

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. Next Chapter ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

[chorusfm]

Jason Tate’s Top Albums of 2023

Well, it’s that time of the year again. I’ve been putting together a list of my favorite albums of the year since at least 2005, and 2023 was one of the most jam-packed I can remember. Not only did I listen to more music than ever before, but I found the quality of new releases week-to-week to be engaging and exciting. Discovering new gems and being more than impressed with the output from old favorites. You can subscribe to my newsletter if you’re interested in a weekly rundown of the music and other entertainment I consume, and the staff compiled best of 2023 list can be found here. Favorite Albums of 2023 * Blink-182 – One More Time… * Fall Out Boy – So Much (for) Stardust * The Maine – The Maine * Yellowcard – Childhood Eyes EP * The Gaslight Anthem – History Books * Taking Back Sunday – 152 * Zach Bryan – Zach Bryan * Thrice – The Artist in the Ambulance (Revisited) * Boys Like Girls – Sunday at Foxwoods * MxPx – Find a Way Home * City and Colour – The Love Still Held Me Near * FRND CRCL – Suburban Dictionary * Origami Angel – The Brightest Days * Ruston Kelly – The Weakness * Foo Fighters – But Here We Are * Dave Hause – Drive it Like It’s Stolen * Olivia Rodrigo – GUTS * Blink-182 – Live from Coachella * Spanish Love Songs – No Joy * Taylor Acorn – Certified Depressant EP * The Menzingers – Some of It was True * Crime in Stereo – House and Trance * Heavenward – Pyrophonics * Dizzy – Dizzy * Hot Mulligan – Why Would I Watch * Koyo – Would You Miss It? * KC Rae – Think I’m Going to Die * Paramore – This is Why * Andrew McMahon – Tilt at the Wind No More * Arrows in Action – Built to Last A few years back I re-ranked a lot of my early end of the year lists, and what I found was that my original lists relied a lot on trying to project out what albums were going to be important in the future and not always going with what albums meant the most to me during the year. I was unconsciously (or maybe even consciously) letting my thoughts of how the list would be viewed compared to other online lists, or be judged by the internet commenters play a role in my decision process. After my re-ranking experiment, I realized that the albums that had stood the test of time for me were the ones that had defined my year because I played them a whole lot, and then I spent the next decade playing them over and over again too, and therefore they became a part of my life. I’ve tried to keep that in mind when I rank albums now. What are the albums that spoke to me the most through the year? What are the albums that were undeniably on repeat? What albums do I see myself reaching for in the future? What albums defined my year? And in 2023, it’s impossible for me to ask those questions and not come to the conclusion that Blink-182 undeniably dominated and defined my year of music listening. Not only were they once again my most played artist of the year, but their new album was far and away my most played album as well. And, well, I wrote a whole love letter to the band and album on the website too. From the reunion announcement, to the incredible live debut, to the album, it was Blink’s year and they deservedly earned the top spot on my list. The rest of my top ten is filled with familiar faces. Fall Out Boy had my favorite album at the mid-year point and slot in at number two. The Maine released another great album and Yellowcard may have only given us a five song EP, but it was on repeat virtually all summer. The Gaslight Anthem’s return left me completely fulfilled and perfectly lined up with the autumn weather. There’s no other way to put it except that Taking Back Sunday blew me away. Their new album just knocked me flat on my ass. It’s incredible. Looking through my list now, I see my 2023. There’s Blink’s live bootleg, representing the incredible fan moment and how much fun I had re-listening to that live recording over and over while anticipating the band’s new album. There’s Thrice’s re-record, something I skeptical… https://chorus.fm/blog/jason-tates-top-albums-of-2023/

[thatbritishactor]

All The Things We Hide In The Dark (part 1)

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader

A Beauty and the Beast AU fic collab written by @stardust-danvers and myself.

Summary:  Chased by Drüskelle and out of options, Reader (You) seeks refuge in the remote Little Palace which is rumored to be haunted by a beast and his ghosts. But he is not the only one who hides dark secrets…

Warnings: None.

Words: 2,100

I would like to thank @blissfullybarnes​ who helped me flesh out the first ideas, and @stardust-danvers​, of course my partner in writing this story.

Cover by @stardust-danvers

You had been running for days. Rain was pouring on you, freezing you to the bone, and you were exhausted. You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept, probably in the crevice of a large tree, careful not to sleep too deep so you could hear if someone was approaching. You were breathless, your stomach hurting, and you were feeling dizzy from the lack of rest and food.

But you couldn’t stop. You knew they were close, relentless, and fierce. You realised that the second you’d let your guard down, they would kill you. You had fought so many of them over the last few days, you’d killed quite a few too. But it was never enough, for they never gave up once they started hunting their prey. It was nighttime and you couldn’t see much, but you were too scared to summon your light, for they might find you right away.

You ran out of the thick woods you’d been trapped in for days and spotted the shape of a castle a few miles away, lit by lightning. Your heart pounding in your chest, the fear and cold straining on you, you took the decision in a split moment. You needed to find shelter, it was just a matter of time until you’d die from hunger and exhaustion, and the Drüskelle wouldn’t even have to catch you.

You hurried towards the castle, looking behind you, wondering if they were watching you right this moment, fear pumping acid through your veins. Your legs barely carried you to the door while you tried to catch your breath, and you threw yourself onto the wood, pounding on it with your dirty, weak fists. Tears escaped your eyes and you let them stream, too exhausted to notice.

The door opened slowly with a sinister sound, and you rushed in, relief washing over you. You fell on the cold floor face first, your hands catching you before you hit your head. The door closed by itself behind you with a deafening sound reverberating all the way to your core. You were in total darkness, hearing nothing but the wind howling outside, the rain pouring and a few lightning strikes. You kneeled carefully, pushing your hair out of your face, catching your shuddering breath. After a few seconds, you decided to summon your light, and you extended your hand forward, palm out. A small glowing orb appeared, and you could finally see your surroundings. You were in a huge foyer, noticing the marble floor and the beautiful tapestry on the walls. You swallowed thickly, your breathing finally becoming even, and decided to get up.

“Hello?” you asked, and you noticed that your voice was hoarser than usual, almost broken. You hadn’t spoken in days, and the lack of water and rest had probably started to damage your vocal cords. You listened carefully, noticing strange noises. You shook your head, unsure of what you were hearing. It sounded like whispers and whooshes of wind, and you began to question your own sanity.

After all, you had spent days without eating or sleeping, you could be hallucinating. You decided to walk ahead, your power illuminating the large room, and you noticed two doors on each side of the hall, as well as enormous stairs in the center. You could still hear the mysterious murmurs, and you felt cold sweat running down your back. You decided to go through the door on the left, your stomach growling. You started to think that you might find a kitchen or a pantry there, and you were eager to explore the castle.

As you moved forward, you couldn’t help but sense you were being watched, feeling uneasy and uncomfortable. But you were too hungry to wait, and you rushed forward.

The door led down some stairs, and you found yourself inside a large kitchen, exhaling a loud sigh of relief.

“Hello?” you asked again, looking around. No one answered, so you pushed the sphere of light forward. It flew across the room and grew, illuminating the whole room. You spotted a few oil lamps on a counter nearby, and a large fireplace in the back of the room. You smiled, relieved, and lit the lamp, so if anyone came in the room, they wouldn’t see your light. You took out your own orb, feeling the power retreating within you, buzzing in your veins, and started opening cabinets and pantries. You jumped when you heard a feminine voice, crystal clear, behind you:

“It’s sort of rude to rummage in a stranger’s kitchen.” the voice echoed, and you squealed in surprise. You turned over, looking for the source of the voice, your heart loudly beating.

“Who’s there?” you asked, trembling.

You were met with silence.

“I’m very sorry” you started cautiously “I’ve been on the run for days, and I’m famished” you explained.

You waited for a few seconds before the voice spoke again.

“It’s fine, there’s fresh bread in here”. You jumped and turned around. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw a fairly large light in the shape of a flame, its glowing eyes staring at you. You stepped back, muffling a scream with your hand until your back met the wall.

Great, the lack of sleep made you hallucinate, you thought, and you shuddered.

“You look ghastly” the shape said with a hint of humor in their voice, and you took your hand off your face, appraising the wisp. Its shape was changing to take the form of a woman. It still looked transparent and blindingly white, light swirling around them. It didn’t have a mouth, and the voice sounded like it came from far away, echoing through the room.

“Th… Thanks?” you replied, not moving an inch.

“Here, take this” the shape said, and its light swirled across the room towards a table, circling a loaf of bread. You stared, unbelieving, until hunger got the best of you. You tore yourself off the wall and walked towards the table, grabbing the bread, and shoving it into your mouth.

“Saints” the voice said, “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” it asked.

“Days” you replied, your mouth full, and you spotted a pitcher of water and a glass nearby. You poured water in the glass and drank it in one move, the fresh liquid easing your burning throat. You closed your eyes in pleasure, and when you opened them again, you noticed that the shape had come closer to you.

“Am I hallucinating?” you asked the shape, feeling stupid. It let out a beautiful laugh before it spoke again.

“You’re not, I’m afraid. I am very real.” You blinked again, taking another bite of bread, swallowing.

“What are you?” you asked, and the shape flew away from you.

“I’m Genya” it said, and they sounded offended. “And I’m a person, not a what” it added.

“Sorry” you replied, feeling ashamed. You told Genya your name, and she turned to face you forward. “For my defense, I’ve never seen anything quite like you,” you explained.

Genya flew across the room to study you again, and she hummed.

“You look like you’ve rolled in mud” she said in a critical tone, and you scoffed.

“That’s because I have” you replied, amused. “Do you know where I could take a bath?” you asked, and Genya hummed again.

“Upstairs” she said, “Come, come!” and she flew out of the room swiftly. You rushed after her, following up the stairs and into the hall again. As you walked, lamps magically lit up on the walls, illuminating the corridors.

“Do you live here alone?” you asked the wisp, climbing the stairs.

“Oh no, there are many more like me” Genya replied, and as she uttered the words, other wisps emerged from the walls and flew around you. You felt your blood chill in your veins, suddenly scared. “And there’s our master of course,” she added, her voice low.

“Your master?” you asked, curious. Genya didn’t have time to reply, for thick shadows emerged in the hallway, and the lights suddenly switched off. The other wisps disappeared into the walls, and you looked around you, suddenly panicked.

You looked ahead and spotted the shape of a tall man, shrouded by the same shadows that had sprawled into the hall. Your heart started beating faster in your chest, fear surging sending an electric current through your body.

You narrowed your eyes, studying him. He wore a black cloak, and you could see his pale hands emerging from the shadows. You tried to detail his face, noticing that he was wearing a black mask over his face, its material smooth and reflective. He had dark long hair, and he was tall, his silhouette impressive.

The shadows spread until you were in almost utter darkness, and you fought the urge to summon your light.

“What are you doing here?” the man said, his cold voice menacing.

“I’m sorry to intrude” you replied, struggling so your voice wouldn’t shake “I was seeking shelter and the door of your castle opened for me” you explained.

The man didn’t reply, but the shadows got thicker, and a feeling of dread spread across your chest.

“Get out.” He ordered. “Now.” You stared at him, frozen in place, and he swirled around and left, his shadows following him. When he turned the corner of the hallway, you took a few steps back and ran down the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. You threw yourself on the wooden door you had entered through and turned the handle to escape. The knob didn’t turn, and you tried a few times, putting your whole weight on it, starting to panic again. After a few minutes of struggle, you finally gave up. The door was locked, and you were trapped inside. You heard a whooshing sound and turned to find Genya’s shape looking at you.

“Come on” she said soothingly “Let me show you to a room. You will try again tomorrow.”

“But your master---”

“It’s fine” she replied, and she flew across the room and took the door on the right. You surged forward and ran after her. You took a hallway that led upstairs, and Genya flew across a door, disappearing on the other side. You opened the door and found a bedroom that was already dimly lit, furnished with a large canopy bed. Genya’s shape was floating nearby, and she flew across another door in the back of the room. You entered and oil lamps magically lit up again. You could detail the bedroom: its walls were lined with a pale green flower wallpaper, and you could see a desk on the corner, and a huge dresser. You followed Genya and entered a bathroom, spotting a beautiful porcelain bathtub already filled with water.

“I’ll leave you to it” Genya said in her sing-song voice, and she disappeared again. You stood there for a while, stunned, before you removed your clothes, dropped them on the floor and plunged into the water, delighted and surprised to find out that it was warm .

You exhaled in relief and noticed that the water was already brown from the dirt off your body. You started washing yourself, feeling exhausted.

How did the lights turn on by themselves? How was the bathtub already filled with warm water? Who was the man you had encountered in the hallway? You tried to think, focusing, and you recalled rumors you had heard a while back, but you were too tired to remember exactly what they said. Once you felt clean, you stepped out of the bathtub, looking around you. You spotted a towel lying on a chair nearby and draped yourself with it. You stepped out of the bathroom, back into the room, opened the large dresser and found beautiful dresses, several outfits as well as a nightgown. They all seemed to be in your size, and you frowned, retrieving a nightgown that you slid on.

Genya reappeared back in the room, and she hummed appreciatively.

“There, you look more human now” she teased, and you snorted.

“Aren’t you a kind wisp” you replied, and Genya laughed again.

“I will make sure that you won’t be disturbed” she said, her voice soft. “Goodnight”. She flew across the room, crossed the door, and vanished. You looked around you, unsure, and stepped next to the bed.

It looked so inviting, looking soft, and you stroked the cover lightly, before turning towards the door. You went and turned the key, relieved to hear the sound of the lock. It made you feel safer, and you went under the covers, closing your eyes from the pleasure of sliding into clean sheets. You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in a bed. Might have been weeks.

You drifted to sleep a few seconds later, exhaustion getting the best of you.

.

.

.

Tag List

@stuckysdaughter

@hagarsays

@ohsorandomlyme

@bat-revival

@littlebobree

@profoundme444

@psychomanias

@joossieisdabomb

@thecatempire

@hummelmia

@kahlanmars

@intothesoul

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@jack-napier-2008

@phantomofmoon

[lupically]

#87B08C | XIAO.

genre | fluff

word count | 1153

warning | mention of suicide

you thought you could outrun xiao.

oh, archons, you have actually gone mental. you thought you could outrun xiao.

"are you okay?"

you pursed your lips together. your ears were still ringing from the fall you sustained after seeing a flash of emerald green—just a flash, like a lightning strike but one that runs across the land instead of the sky. the back of your head banged against the rocky ground when you fell, pain erupting from your skin, but instead of giving yourself a moment to relax, the first thing you had to do was deal with xiao.

xiao, the emerald lighting strike that pushed you onto the ground because he couldn't control his running speed or whatever.

"i don't know, you tell me," you grumbled as you squeezed your eyes shut to suppress the dizziness in your head.

"it doesn't seem like you are. why aren't you standing up?" he asked blankly, standing close to you and looming over your fallen body with curiosity.

you laughed sardonically, your hands curling into little infuriated fists.

knowing him (you did not know him well, but enough to keep yourself out of trouble and for him to want to keep you safe), he probably wasn't trying to be annoying by asking you such an atrocious question.

see, if childe had been the one who said that, it would be easier for you to be rude because he probably meant all the mischief and annoyance in the world. but xiao—a special case, you would say. he genuinely was incapable of understanding why human beings would allow themselves a set back just because of a little fall, just a little pain.

the fact that his inadequacy in empathy was not voluntary was not lost on you. even if you were well-equipped with the ability to verbally strike back, in a way that would confuse him but at least satisfy you, you did not want to blame him for what he didn't choose for himself.

"because it hurts, xiao," you replied honestly. "you are very strong."

he raised his brows with intrigue.

was that a compliment? should he show you gratitude? he imagined how that would be a compliment. people like to hear that they are strong, but that statement was not needed for him. he knows he is strong, he doesn't need other people to reinforce it further for him. but, hearing the way you said it—scruffy and low, a light grumble in your voice, it was likely more an annoyed statement than a compliment.

he watched you silently when you pushed yourself back on your feet and dusted yourself off. you patted your arms, your clothes, and your head, then you looked at him.

xiao stared back at you with equal enthusiasm, which was close to none. but his golden eyes were looking at you, like they have always looked at you, like they were caged to your face and he wasn't able to look away.

when xiao looks at you, he only looks at you. you stand in solitary beneath the brilliant glass of his eyes, and you shiver every time you think about how seen you are just by standing before him.

"what are you staring at?" you asked after a moment, averting your gaze so you wouldn't have to acknowledge yourself in his eyes.

"i'm looking at you," he shrugged, "why did you leave the house and run here? you can't swim, yet you are jumping into the ocean. why?"

you rolled your eyes up at the night sky. a difficult question. how were you supposed to tell xiao, a good friend of yours, that you are trying to go on a suicide run to see if you could head back to earth through death? it was the only method you thought about using, as you have found no traveling portal and nobody with a teleportation power good enough to send you back to your world.

"i was trying to learn how to swim."

"no, you are trying to die."

you pursed your lips awkwardly. even though you two spoke at the same time, and his voice was ultimately much softer than yous, somehow his words overwhelmed your own. perhaps it was because he pulled the terrible truth (well, terrible for him) right out of your lips when you were trying to lie to him.

oh, archons, you have really gone mental. you thought you could lie to xiao?

"well, if you already knew then why–oh, oh, woah?"

your annoyance was cut short when xiao suddenly stepped forward. his movement was rigid; you could tell he was unsure of his action, and neither was he used to it. his arms carefully went around your shoulders, giving you one of the loosest hugs you have ever experienced, and for some reason, he refused to pull away even after seconds passed.

"uhm... okay..." you squeaked out silently, brows furrowed in surprise while your cheeks flushed with a hot blush. "do you–do you need a hug, xiao?"

"no, you need a hug," he said.

you almost breathed out a strangled noise from the back of your throat. you need a hug—of course not! especially not when you stood in comparison to xiao of all people. the boy was touch-starved, in bold and italics! if anybody here needed a hug, it was him, not you!

"actually, i don't need a hug, xiao," you whispered funnily, giving his back a small pat as if urging him to pull away.

he stiffened a little, unsure if he wanted to let go of you yet. the struggle to place that decision was not lost on him; he was never one to initiate skinship, but he knew fairly sure that his refusal to move away was more than just being told by verr that you might need some emotional support.

today was the first time he wasn't able to control his speed. he had not meant to shove you to the ground, but he did nothing but run when he saw you aiming for the ocean. he remembered you said you could not swim.

"okay," he said with a small nod, then he proceeded to stay on his spot. "i think i do, though."

you stopped patting his back. the awkwardness flew like stardust off your bodies, and you softened at his bored yet always gentle voice.

xiao does need a hug. it wouldn't take a genius to figure that out. for someone who has only been bound by chains, it was about time his skin gets the delicacy it deserves.

"okay then," you pressed yourself closer to him and laid your chin on his shoulder, "we hug."

"we hug," he repeated with a faint nod before he leaned his head against your neck, expressionless but filled with warmth.

you smiled.

oh, archons, sometimes you think... maybe you don't want to leave this place at all.

[lilyhoshikawa]

jack atlas for the character meme

Overall opinion

Jack’s one of the great rivals in Yugioh to be honest, and it’s kind of a shame how ruined he gets in 5D’s season 2, much like… every other character tbh. What immediately stands out to me is how strongly Jack and Yusei’s rivalry defines the early series. Jack and Yusei have similar backstories and life experiences up to the point where they make a critical decision sending them in opposite directions- for Yusei, deciding to sacrifice his life’s work to save an innocent person, and for Jack, abandoning and betraying his friends for a shot at something better. Then we have the moment of adhesion when the two reconnect, the duel that not only shows us the stark contrast of their new personalities (Jack’s braggadocios pride vs Yusei’s quiet and humble nature) and how well they contrast, peaking with a moment where the series’ central mystery- the mark of the Crimson Dragon- ties them together. On top of all of that, we have the meta level of how Stardust and RDA contrast, an effect that protects vs an effect that destroys. Character information through deck choice- Yusei’s flexible synchron strategy vs Jack’s all-or-nothing power OTK deck. I’d even say that Jack and Yusei have a more promising rivalry early on than the iconic Yugi and Kaiba because it’s established that Jack has beaten Yusei on his own terms early on. We get the feeling that they are genuinely close in skill level and any duel between the two could go either way. Then it all just… goes downhill rapidly. Jack vs Yusei round 2 is one of the best duels in all of 5Ds, but after the Dark Signer arc we only ever get Jack as a punchline and Yusei as the savior of mankind so much stronger and more capable than anyone else that it’s a question as to why any of them are still around and they have to make a 3v3 tournament the center of the plot just to keep Jack and Crow relevant.

Jack’s personality is certainly tough to get right- he’s selfish, proud, and arrogant. But one thing he isn’t is dumb. It’s shown to us early on that Jack thinks and duels on a level comparable to Yusei, down to visual indicators, and that his ability to deal with threats is equal- he beats the same amount of Dark Signers as Yusei does. But Jack is selfish, yes, and it takes significant character development via Carly to establish a connection with others, a desire to reconnect with his former friends. Season 2 promptly throws all of that away and makes Jack a power-obsessed idiot that can’t comprehend a solution to a problem that isn’t “hit thing really hard, backrow be damned” and ramps up his selfishness for comedic effect. The problem with this characterization isn’t just that 5Ds season 2 is lighter in tone- that would be neither better or worse on its own, just different- but that they bend the characters to fit that tone. The scene where Jack and Crow sit around wondering why they’re even here when Yusei handles basically everything and is so much more competent than them is insulting because the joke is based on them having become versions of themselves that aren’t accurate to the characters we first saw and loved. Joking about Jack being a jerk or obsessed with victory is fine, because he is. Joking about how Crow is a crime boy who hates cops is also fine, because that’s what he is. Joking about how they’re both dumb and useless is not fine, because that’s a characterization invented out of nowhere.

I think the interpretation of Jack we get in Arc-V does a way better job of extrapolating where Jack would go in a prospective better version of 5Ds season 2. Jack is still proud, sometimes arrogant, and brash, but he’s also a much better person, more devoted to prosperity for the people who look up to him and being a good teacher and role model. He’s angry, prone to outbursts, and as overdramatic about his favorite card as he ever was, but with the heart and genuine care for others to make him someone admirable. It’s a shame Arc-V has so many problems in its second and third seasons, because I honestly think this version of Jack shines in many of his appearances.

Gender / sexuality

This dude is definitely a bisexual if I’ve ever seen one. I tend to think of him as a cis man who doesn’t really care about gender but transmasc Jack Atlas is great too bc it makes his expressions of manliness into something gender-affirming which is cute.

Favorite moment in canon

I still think Jack vs Carly is probably hands down the best duel in 5Ds, establishing how far Jack has come as a person and giving us a look into who Carly is and what she wants. The final confrontation between Majestic RDA and Ascilla Piscu is beautiful.

Favorite moment in a fan work

To be honest I don’t read too many yugioh fan works, they tend to be fairly hit or miss for me, so I’m politely gonna skip this on, especially given how long I rambled upfront.

Favorite line

There’s really nothing that beats hearing “my very soul! Red dragon archfiend!”

Characters I love seeing them interact with

Obviously I’m a big Carly fan, and I often find myself wishing their relationship had continued to evolve post-Dark Signers, so seeing any time their relationship is further explored is great. I also like seeing him as Yusei’s rival when it’s done well, because again, the way their decks and personalities clash make them some of the most entertaining rivals in yugioh to watch fight each other.

Last thing before bed

Given his obsession with his deck, I can only imagine it’s become something of a ritual for him to give his list a once-over before bed, making sure every card feels right and is in its place, especially as I think he probably sleeps late and doesn’t have time to give it any major tune-ups before his scheduled pro duels.

Sleeping headcanons

Obviously the show itself gives us that meme image of Jack’s gigantic empty room but I think he’s actually got a pretty messy sleeping quarters, lots of cards all over his room in various places, various new product that he’s been pouring over and opening. So I tend to imagine he falls asleep right after going through cards, often having weird dreams about new decks and support for his cards that he wakes up thinking are real for a few minutes before he fully wakes up. Just like. Lots of dreams where they unveil a new RDA monster that’s like, a main deck vanilla, and he wakes up confused and baffled. I speak from having many yugioh dream experiences of my own if u can’t tell dbdjfn.

First thing in the morning

Like I said, I think Jack sleeps late. Wakes up for enough time to get ready, with a cup of coffee or three and plenty of time to make sure his looks are in order- he’s definitely very finicky about his appearance- and then he’s off to the track for his scheduled appearances in duels. He probably skips breakfast most days he has matches scheduled to save up his energy for a post-victory feast. That feels like his sort of thing.

Favorite locations

Jack’s absolutely one of those coffee shop dudes. We see him in canon hanging out at that one café somewhat often but I’m willing to bed he’s got a pretty long list of expensive coffee places he likes to hit up from his time as the King, mostly in Neo Domino, and mostly very high-class pricey type joints that Crow and Yusei get mad at him for going to. Probably spends the whole day there spending tons of money on cup after cup while theorycrafting new decks on a laptop or something. That’s one of the few things I’ll accept from season 2- a love for coffee and ramen feels like a great addition to his character, honestly. Where can I get some RDA instant noodles.

[swanlake1998]

Article: For transgender dancers, progress can't come fast enough

Date: March 8, 2020

By: Avichai Scher

Sean Dorsey was tired of being the only transgender dancer in the room. So he took the bold step of starting his own company, the San Francisco-based Sean Dorsey Dance, and become the first openly trans director of a full-time dance company. It was a milestone for transgender and gender-nonconforming dancers and choreographers, and Dorsey hoped it would lead to a more inclusive dance world.

The company is celebrating its 15th anniversary this year, yet Dorsey remains the only openly trans artistic director of a full-time dance company in the country.

“We’ve definitely made progress since I started, when there was really no context for institutional or social support of trans dancers,” Dorsey said. “But there’s still a major lack of representation across the dance world.”

Dance, especially older forms such as ballet and modern dance, is mostly structured around strict gender lines. While the growing acceptance of transgender people in the United States has extended somewhat into the art form, trans dancers are often forced to choose between being their authentic selves and career opportunities.

Issues start in training

Dorsey’s choreography often deals with trans issues, and he is committed to being an advocate in the dance world for transgender people. But even in his own company, Dorsey is the only trans performer.

“In San Francisco, at least, I don’t have the luxury of holding an audition for trans dancers,” he said. “There just aren’t very many at the professional level.”

Dorsey said this is largely because barriers for trans and gender-nonconforming dancers start at a young age — as most training programs are gender-specific.

Jayna Ledford, 19, made headlines when she came out as transgender in an Instagram post in 2018. She was studying at the Kirov Ballet Academy at the time, a traditional ballet program in Washington, D.C. It was the first time a dancer at an acclaimed ballet school had publicly come out as trans.

Classes at Kirov, like most ballet conservatories, are generally separated by sex assigned at birth, and when students are combined, teachers offer different steps for men and women. Ledford, however, found ways to get the training that matched her gender identity, including dancing on her toes in special pointe shoes, which is done almost exclusively by women and requires unique training.

“I wanted to do what the females were doing,” she said. “I’d do it on the side and not pay attention to what the guys were doing. I’d also stay after class and practice pointe technique with my female friends.”

She hadn’t had the training other females at the school had, but she was hoping to transfer from the men’s program to the women’s.

“I knew I had a lot of catching up to do in terms of pointe work,” she said. “But just being in the room with the females, that’s what I wanted.”

The Kirov Academy told Ledford she could not join the women’s program unless she physically transitioned. Ledford was not ready for that, so she left the school. She was disappointed but now says she understands the academy’s position. The school confirmed Ledford’s account but declined to comment.

Maxfield Haynes, 22, who is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns, said the large, prestigious ballet school where they trained was not supportive of someone presenting as male wearing pointe shoes.

It wasn’t until Haynes enrolled at Tisch School of the Arts at New York University that they were able to explore the more feminine aspects of ballet technique. Ledford also found higher education to be more supportive than a conservatory. She now studies at Montclair State University and practices pointe technique daily.

Lack of professional opportunities

After NYU, Haynes chose to dance with Complexions Contemporary Ballet partially because the company is explicitly supportive of gender fluidity, and even had a specific role for Haynes that is gender-nonconforming. In the David Bowie tribute piece, “Stardust,” Haynes dons pointe shoes and was partnered with male dancers.

“It was everything I could have dreamed of,” Haynes said of the role. “As nonbinary, I like to get to show all aspects of gender. I don’t think about dancing like a man or a woman, just myself.”

Opportunities to dance roles that are gender-nonconforming are rare in the concert dance world, even if dancers are becoming more open about being gender-nonconforming in their offstage lives. And those who want to physically transition face a stark choice, as none of the major dance companies in the U.S. currently have openly transgender dancers on their rosters.

Alby Sabrina Pretto recently made the difficult choice to begin physically transitioning with hormone replacement therapy at the expense of her performing career. She was a dancer with Les Ballet Trockadero de Monte Carlo, an all-male comedy troupe, for eight years. While she got to dance in pointe shoes, the style of the company is rooted in the comedy of men portraying women, which ultimately wasn’t how Pretto identified.

“There were moments I wanted to do things like a ballerina would and be ethereal and pretty,” Pretto said. “To dance like a woman.”

She knew that physically transitioning would mean she could not continue with the company.

“I wanted to have a career, and that slowed down my decision to transition,” Pretto said. “I waited until I felt like I had done what I wanted to do there.”

Liz Harler, general manager of Les Ballet Trockadero, said in a statement that transitioning does not disqualify dancers from the company.

“Dancers who expressed interest in transitioning to female have been told that their job would not be in jeopardy, though none have chosen to do so while continuing with the Trocks’ rigorous dancing and touring schedule,” Harler said.

Both Ledford and Pretto hope for the day when they can attend an audition and be hired without having to explain their gender identity.

Ledford said. “I’ll audition as any other woman. If I get in, then I’ll sit down and talk with them.”

Ledford is “optimistic” that this can happen in the next few years, but Pretto isn’t so sure.

“I am not naive, I know I cannot just audition for a major ballet company and join the female corps de ballet,” Pretto said. “But I would love for that to happen for me. It’s the ultimate dream.”

Her skepticism is partly based on the experience of her former Trockadero colleague, Chase Johnsey, who is gender fluid. He made headlines in 2018 when he was cast in a female ensemble role in the English National Ballet’s production of “Sleeping Beauty,” though it was not on pointe, and the heavy costume concealed his body. No additional female roles came his way afterward.

The question of who gets opportunities as a dancer often comes down to the taste of directors and producers and what they imagine their audiences want to see, not just ability.

Pretto danced a couple of character roles recently with Eglevsky Ballet, a growing ballet ensemble on Long Island, New York. The director, Maurice Brandon Curry, said he would consider Pretto for a female ensemble role next year, because her pointe work is “excellent,” though he wonders how some in the audience will react.

“Casting Alby in a female role would not be about passing as female, but I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge my concern about an audience member who was offended,” Curry said. “But art is not prejudice; it’s about inclusivity and open minds. If someone is not willing to have that experience, they don’t have a legitimate place in our audiences.”

Signs of change

Dorsey said that even having discussions about gender identity in dance is progress from when he started, and he’s encouraged by changes he’s seen: Most theaters either already have gender-neutral restrooms or create them for his company’s visit; trans and gender-nonconforming students attend his workshops in various cities and share with him their efforts to be accepted in their dance communities; the San Francisco Ballet persuaded him to lead a training session on gender identity in dance; and he was on the cover of Dance Magazine.

Ledford was recently a “Gaynor Girl,” a spokesperson for the popular pointe shoe brand Gaynor Minded. Pretto said she worked up the courage to use the ladies' locker room at one of New York’s busiest studios, Steps on Broadway, and no one seemed to mind.

Still, the art form has not yet caught up to reflect the audience, Dorsey said. His company has worked in over 30 cities in the U.S. and abroad, and he is usually the first trans choreographer a theater has presented. But he said the response from audiences is almost always positive.

“Dance audiences are ready and hungry for trans voices,” he said. “It's our dance institutions that are still catching up.”

[illfoandillfie]

A Different Kind of Education: V Is For Vanilla (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, light dom/sub dynamics, light dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, protected sex, vaginal fingering, light breast/nipple play, nipple sucking, light biting, i think thats it, honestly this chapter is (as the title says) pretty vanilla. But things will get more intense in later chapters. 

Words: 7,128

A/N: ahhhhhh it’s finally here. This professor Rog idea has been kicking around my head for months now and finally I’m actually doing something about it lmao

This series is going to be LONG (like in my plan it’s 15 chapters) because I have So Many kinks I want to squeeze into it. Some were chosen by me and some were chosen by everyone who voted in the poll I put up a few weeks ago and i am seriously so excited about what’s coming.

Smut scenes in this and all future chapters will be marked with stars so that if there is a kink you’d like to avoid you can skip over it and still enjoy the rest of the series. 

Also, I know the chapter title doesn’t super make sense since he’s a university bio sciences professor which doesn’t have a lot to do with the alphabet but 🤷‍♀️ that was the working chapter title and it kind of stuck. Plus, ya’ll know I love chapter titles that have a theme lmao. Anyway, no more stalling. Enjoy the filth and start preparing yourselves for it to get so much filthier.

(the ultimate hot professor rog moment tbh)

@atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​​ @deakyclicks​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @drowseoftaylor​​ @hannafuckingsucks​​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​ @queenmylovely​​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​​ @johndeaconshands​​ @borhapbois​​ @stardust-galaxies​​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​​ @rogersslave​​ @scorpiogemini  

His office door was open when you got there which didn’t give you much time to hesitate or rethink your decision to ask your Professor for help. He would have seen you approaching or stalling in the doorway and invited you in anyway to query you about your reasons for being there. So, instead, you raised your fist and rapped a pattern on the door frame with your knuckles. “Professor Taylor? Can I have a word?” “Miss Y/L/N,” he seemed surprised to see you, his eyes widening behind his spectacles, “come in. What can I help you with?” You closed the door behind you and took a seat, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to remember how you’d planned to broach the subject. Professor Taylor – Roger, as you’d been told you could call him – waited patiently. “It’s tricky, Professor. Umm, see, well um,” “Is this something to do with the coursework? If you’re worried about the last assignment, you don’t need to be. It was really good, what you handed in.” “Really?” “Mmhmm. I was going to give you all feedback next week but if it’ll help put your mind at ease I can show you the comments I have for you early,” You were half a second away from asking to see them when you remembered that wasn’t what you’d come to ask about, “A-actually that’s okay Professor.” “Oh? So was it something else you wanted? I know that this Masters course is more work than previous classes you’ve had with me but you seem to be keeping on top of it all. I’m very impressed by what you’ve accomplished so far.” “Thank you Professor, but, um, that’s not really what I’m here about,” “No?” He leaned forward resting his chin on his hands, “You know, there’s no need to be nervous about talking to me, I’m not going to fail you,” he chuckled as he sat up straight again, clearly trying to lighten the mood though his expression became more serious as he said, “if you’re having trouble with something, or someone, please tell me and I will do what I can to help, whether it’s pointing you in the direction of someone more able to support you or talking to people on your behalf.” You nodded, feeling marginally calmer though still nervous, “I was actually hoping for some private tutoring,” “Oh? Well if you’d like to put your name down as a tutor I have a form here somewhere, if you fill it out I can pass it on and have your name added to the database,” Roger rifled through a stack of papers on his desk, only stopping when you spoke again. “No, not, uh, not tutoring work. I more meant tutoring from you. In an area that this Uni doesn’t provide classes in,” “Miss Y/L/N I’m going to have to ask you to explain because I’m not quite sure what you’re after,” You took a breath and resisted the urge to speak to the floor, “My boyfriend dumped me last week.” “I’m sorry to hear that but I don’t see how-” “He dumped me because apparently I’m not kinky enough. I don’t know, he always wanted me to be super obedient in the bedroom but I never really understood it.” Roger shifted in his seat, “Miss Y/L/N I don’t think this is app-” “I want someone to explain it all to me, teach me how to be what he wants so I can get him back. If I can show him that I can learn, that I can submit in the way he expects, then we won’t have to break up. I love him and I’d do anything to get him back and I’ve been thinking about it and I think you’re the best person to teach me.” “I’m not sure I understand why you would come to me with this. I am very sorry to hear you’re dealing with that but it’s not really appropriate for me to be discussing such matters with my student.” “Just…” you held your hand up to try and stop him from standing and opening the door for you, “You must realise that you have a, um, a reputation.” Roger was taken aback by that, throwing you a confused expression as he settled back into his seat. “Surely you’ve heard the rumours about you. About what you like to get up to with women.” “I can assure you I haven’t,” “Seriously? Everyone talks about it. I mean part of it is probably just because you’ve got that whole DILF thing working for you so like half the students here have crushes on you. But then you throw in the gossip about how you like to tie women up and all the rest of it,” Roger closed his eyes as if he couldn’t quite keep up with everything you’d just said, “How- I mean, those rumours have no bearing on- on anything and they aren’t even- what I mean to say is-” “Professor, it’s okay. It’s just gossip, nothing serious in it. But if you do like that sort of thing, I could really use your help. I won’t tell anyone, all I want is my boyfriend back,” Roger pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “This is insane, what you’re asking is insane.” “No it’s not,” “Okay, lets, Miss Y/L/N, just for a moment, let’s imagine that, hypothetically, I say yes to this. What then?” “Well, I’d expect we’d meet up once or twice a week, you’d teach me the basics of kink, anything you thought I should know. Then in four months’ time I can talk to Dylan and show him what I’ve learnt and he’ll take me back.” “Why four months?” “Oh, we’re pretty much guaranteed to see each other then. Two of our mutual friends are getting married and we’ll both be at the wedding. So will you do it?” “Miss Y/L/N, I don’t know that this is a good idea,” “Why not?” “Well our ages for one thing,” “So what? You’re mature and experienced and that’s what I need. Plus, surely having someone half your age throw herself at you is a bonus.” He smiled slightly, “All the same, it’s wrong. I’m your teacher.” “Exactly, who better to teach me?” “The ethics of this- and the rules of this university. If anyone found out I’d lose my job, you’d lose your place at this school so you wouldn’t get to complete your degree. Not to mention I’m sure you have family and friends who would chop my bollocks off before they ran me out of town.” “It’s not like I’m underage, I’m doing a bloody Masters. And no one would find out. We can meet in secret.” “It’s still so risky, Ms Y/L/N,” “Look, Professor, I wouldn’t tell anyone, you won’t tell anyone. As long as we’re careful about when and where we meet no one will find out. Please, Professor. I need this,” you thought you could see his resolve cracking but decided to give him a final push, “But if you really don’t want to then I’ll find someone else. I’m sure I can meet someone online. Fetlife? That’s a website for this kind of thing, right?” “Fine, I’ll do it.” He said suddenly, “But we do it my way. And certainly not on campus.” “Okay,” “Are you free tonight?” “You wanna get right into it?” “I want to discuss this further, off campus, to set some ground rules, and I think we’ll both be more comfortable discussing it over dinner.” “Dinner? Like a date?” “A business deal. Miss Y/L/N, if you can’t take this seriously,” “I can, I promise. Dinner where?” “Well, public places are out of the question. So you can come over to my house. Be there by Seven and make sure no one knows. Here’s the address,” “Thank you Professor,” Roger grunted as he scrawled his address on a scrap of paper, holding it out to you, “Go, out of my office before I come to my senses,” You nodded and scurried off, taking heart from the bemused tone behind his snippy words. In a matter of a few short months you’d be able to put this breakup behind you and show Dylan just how much he meant to you.

A few minutes before seven o’clock you rang Roger’s door bell, looking around at the long driveway and the tidy garden beds at the front of the house as you waited. He opened the door quickly and hurried you inside glancing around the front yard as if someone were spying on him. “I brought wine,” you said, holding the bottle out, “You’ve got a nice place,” “You sound surprised,” he said as he took your jacket from you and hung it on a coat rack to the side of the entrance before taking the wine with a gracious nod and examining the label, “Y’know being a university professor doesn’t actually pay too badly.” “Yeah but this place is massive,” He chucked, “I inherited a little from my Nan and Pop and then there was the album. That was enough to buy this place.” “Album?” “Oh, I was in a band in my youth, one mildly successful album and a couple of writing credits on the singles set me up nicely. Not nicely enough to retire on but still.” He shrugged as he led you through his sizeable house, up a set of stairs and towards the back balcony, “Plus, this place didn’t seem so big when I was sharing it with my ex-wife and our kids. Uhh, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. Now, make yourself comfortable out here and I’ll just go check on the food.” You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the sheer number of rooms and hallways you’d passed as well as the fact that your old Biology professor had once been in a band. It was hard considering you’d only ever seen him presenting lectures to an audience of tired and often hungover students but you supposed he did have a kind of magnetism that would have been at home on a stage. Still, you’d have liked to see pictures.  

Roger returned a few moments later with two plates of food, a couple of wine glasses tucked in the crook of his arm. You quickly reached to relieve him of something, before one of the glasses could shatter and put an end to all your plans. Though perhaps a broken glass would have helped break the ice. It wasn’t the most comfortable dinner you ever had. You found it hard to swallow, hard to sit still, torn between wanting to jump right to the main topic and wanting to let Roger bring it up in his own time. The last thing you wanted was to come across as just trying to get a leg over the hottest professor on campus as if for a dare or a joke. Him retracting his agreement was a very close second last. Instead, you gulped down your drink and tried to focus on the reasonably nice meal Roger had prepared for you. Finally, after watching you top up your glass for the third time, he put you out of your misery. “Why me?” “What?” “Why did you approach me with this idea of…tutoring?” “Like I said before, the rumours abo-” “Okay but there must have been something beyond that. There could have been rumours about any staff member. If the school gossip had said Professor Richardson had a sex dungeon where he tied up women and spanked them, would you have approached him?” “So you have heard the rumours,” “Of course I have. Answer the question,” You stalled by taking another drink, though only a sip that time, “No, I wouldn’t have.” “So, why me?” “You’re hot?” Roger gave you a look you’d seen in the classroom – his stop fucking around look, usually reserved for first years who still treated dissection and cadavers as a joke. You shrugged, “You’re one of the best teachers I ever had. You always said we could come to you with any problems we were having and whenever I took you up on that offer to go over the coursework you were encouraging and supportive and knew how to push me in the right direction without giving me all the answers. I guess I felt like I could trust you. Like you’d take me seriously or at least hear me out before shutting the door in my face. And if the rumours happened to be false then you seemed like the sort of person who wouldn’t be offended by them or my proposition.” Roger smiled to himself, but it was only for a few brief seconds and then his professional demeanour was back in place, “Alright, well, I’m listening now so why don’t you tell me about this ex and the sort of things he requested of you. And then I’ll decide whether to kick you off my property or not.” There was a twinkle in his eye that told you he wasn’t serious about throwing you out, but it didn’t stop you from feeling timid about the conversation, “Umm, okay. His name is Dylan. We were both in your Bachelor bio class, that’s how we met. Or kind of. We were aware of each other but went to different parties and hung out with different people. It wasn’t until last year that we actually met and got chatting and started seeing each other. I thought it was the real thing, like proper love, soulmate stuff. So when he broke up with me it took me completely by surprise. Everything felt perfect with him. Except for the sex.” You paused, feeling a little self-conscious about speaking so frankly about your personal life, and with your professor no less. Roger removed his spectacles and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt, “Ms Y/L/N, you’re going to have to be able to talk about sex with me if you actually want this to work.” “The sex was fucking great okay? Especially at the start. But the longer we went out the more he pushed for me to be submissive to him. He’d joke around about wanting to fuck me while I was asleep or mostly asleep, and he’d dirty talk by calling me his toy or saying that he owned me or sometimes about pimping me out to his friends. I indulged some of his ideas like when he wanted to be especially rough with me, pushing my head down into the mattress, pulling my hair, slapping me, things like that. And it was fun, but I never enjoyed it the same way he did and whenever he brought up the sleep stuff or if he tried to bend me over while I was cooking dinner I always stopped him. He’d laugh about it and say he was just joking but I guess he meant it more than I thought he did.” Roger remained quiet, watching you thoughtfully until he was sure you were finished, “If we did this what limits would you want in place?” “None. I want to be the perfect submissive for Dylan, I want to prove I can be whatever he wants.” Roger shook his head and put down his glass, “What was it you told Dylan when he suggested using you while you were in the middle of something or if he brought up the sleep stuff?” “I just told him no, I wasn’t into it or I was busy.” “Then that’s a limit. If you don’t want to do those things, that’s okay. Everyone has limits.” “But that’s the point. I need to learn how to be into those things so he’ll have me back. My limits are what made him leave.” Roger exhaled heavily though his nose, “Okay then, is there anything you would consider a turn off?” “I don’t know,” “Well I don’t believe that. I’m sure you have at least some idea of what you like and what you don’t.” “Yeah I guess I do but if I’m the submissive one then it doesn’t matter what I want. This is about Dylan and doing what he wants.” “Personally, I’m not big into feet stuff – toe sucking, foot jobs, anything like that – it just doesn’t appeal to me, whether I’m acting more dominant or more submissive, and I’ve made sure to tell every one of the women I’ve been with who hinted that they’d be into doing that kind of thing. A lot of women, in my experience at least, don’t like anal or things like knife play or scenes that feel violent or menacing.” He paused, watching your reactions, “From what you’ve just told me, it sounds like Dylan might be into free use and consensual non-consent so if either of those things sound like a turn off to you, you should let me know. Dylan will have limits of what he’s comfortable with and comfortable doing to others, I guarantee it. You need to make your limits known too. It’s all part of being in a D/S relationship and playing with any kind of BDSM type kink. The main rule we follow is safe, sane and consensual, and believe me, I will make sure we follow it during our lessons. So, is there anything you would consider a turn off or anything you wouldn’t want to do, even for Dylan?” “Can I think about it and get back to you?” “I suppose so. If it helps I can give you an idea of things I could teach you and you can tell me if any of them don’t feel right.” “Yeah, I think that would help,” “Alright umm, obviously because this is about what Dylan likes we should address consensual non-consent and free use at some point, but they would come later. Somnophilia too. I’d probably start with something easier or more common anyway. Spanking is nearly guaranteed, basic bondage methods – cuffs, ropes, that sort of thing – maybe some more extreme bondage too depending on how much you enjoyed the basic bondage. Ummm, choking, maybe some gags, tease and denial for sure. Any of that sounding too scary or intimidating or just not fun?” “They all sound okay I think, although some of them I haven’t heard of before.” “It’s a start at least. Of course, I would begin with the smaller kinks and work our way up to the more intense ones, and hopefully by that point we’ll both be more familiar with your limits and what you are interested in taking further.” “So, does that mean your agreeing to tutor me?” “I can definitely work with this.” “You mean it?” “Yes. Apparently I do.” He trailed his gaze over you for a moment, “How would you feel if I suggested we move this to the bedroom?” Your heart skipped a beat and you hoped your shock hadn’t shown on your face, “You want to start now?” “Sort of. What do we do at the beginning of a science experiment?” “Measure a control group,” “Exactly, you do a control before you mess with variables so you have something to measure them against. In this case, I think we’ll be able to tailor kinks to you better if I have some idea of what you enjoy during sex and what it takes to get you off. Is that okay?” “Yeah, of course, yeah. Makes sense.” “If you want to wait a couple of days we can,” “No, now’s as good a time as any. And the sooner we get into it all the better really.” Roger chuckled and stood, holding out his hand to help you out of your seat, “You’ve always been an enthusiastic student.”

Leaving your plates and glasses on the balcony table, Roger led you towards his bedroom. You wished you’d had a little more to drink, just to dull the sudden wave of nerves that had risen up. You were about to fuck a professor. Professor Taylor. It was a bizarre scenario you’d got yourself into and in an effort to distract yourself a little and calm down, you focused on his bedroom wall as he busied about closing curtains, eyes trained on a framed watercolour of a lake under some cherry blossom trees. “You like it?” “Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s pretty,” “I got that while I was in Japan a few years ago.” You nodded, not sure what to say next. “Are you okay?” You turned and found Roger much closer than he had been a moment before. “Are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes, sorry, just a bit nervous I guess. Feels kind of odd now that I’m actually here. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really expect you to agree to this.” “I did tell you your idea was insane. But that’s okay,” he slowly reached forward, his hand settling on your hip and gently tugging, encouraging you to step in closer, “It’s kind of weird for me too. So, we’ll go slow. And if you want to stop at any time we can.” You nodded, eyes glued to Roger, and let your tongue wet your lips. His eyes followed the movement, “Does that mean you want to kiss me?” There was a playfulness to his voice, teasing almost, and you found yourself relaxing and agreeing that you did. And for the first time you realised just what it meant for those rumours to be true. “So then kiss me.”

                                                     ****** 

A kiss you could do. Pushing aside the realisation that this was your first kiss since Dylan left, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Roger’s, though you pulled away quickly. Roger didn’t say anything, just waited, lips lightly parted. Your heart was racing with excitement and uncertainty, but you wanted more. He welcomed your lips the second time they met his, his hand gripping your hip harder now that he was certain you were going to stay. It was almost needy the way he kissed back, something you’d not have expected from your Professor. His nose bumped yours and yet he didn’t seem to care, leaning further into you, his tongue tickling your lip seconds before you felt it slide against your own tongue. Familiar but entirely different from the kisses you were used to. His hands didn’t move like Dylan’s did, not grabbing but gently squeezing, reassuringly firm. His leg was suddenly between yours and you took a step back in surprise. Roger followed so you took another and another until you felt the edge of the bed behind you. Dylan and your nerves almost entirely forgotten, you reached for Roger’s belt. He let you unbuckle it and pull it loose before he grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, kissing you between looks heavy with desire. He broke away for a moment and toed off his shoes, bending to take his socks off too, “So, is there anything you particularly like, any positions?” You copied his movements, kicking your own shoes just under the bed, “Not really. I can work with whatever.” “Stop trying to please me and tell me what you like Ms Y/L/N,” he said, reaching for your hips again so he could push your jeans down. “I mean I guess I like being on top, riding, whatever you want to call it.,” you quickly unhooked your bra and let it drop to the floor, “But Dylan tended to like me under him.” “New rule,” Roger said, kicking his own pants off his ankle as you tugged his shirt from his shoulders, “No talking about your ex when we’re this close to being naked. Okay?” “Yeah, sorry, good rule.” “Y’know I could have taken your bra off too,” “Faster this way,” “I’ll let you have it this time. But next time I unwrap you myself.” You shivered at the implications of the statement as Roger resumed the kiss and pressed you backwards onto the mattress, quickly climbing on top of you, his hands braced on each side of your head as he leaned down to kiss you once more, hungrily.

He didn’t stay there long though. A few seconds later he’d shimmied down your body, creating a trail of kiss warmed skin, until his face was positioned directly above your breasts. You raised your head and watched enraptured as he his eyes met yours, the hint of a mischievous grin lighting up his face, and then he lowered his lips to the top of your left breast. You let your head drop back to the bed and ached your back a little, pushing your chest towards him. “Yeah, you like that?” he asked, voice rougher than you’d ever heard it before, “what if I do this?” slowly he let his teeth sink into you, just for a second. It was enough to pull a small hum of appreciation from you so he repeated the action on your right breast. “Feels good?” “Yeah,” you breathed out, softly. “Yeah?” he asked, pushing himself up so he was straddling your waist, “What about this?” You felt his warm breath surround your nipple before you felt his tongue lap against it or his lips enclose it, letting your eyes slip shut as you drew your lip between your teeth. He seemed to appreciate the response and made sure to repeat the action a few times against each nipple, sucking on one as his gently flicked the other with his thumb. You tingled at the sensation of his warm saliva cooling and gently squeezed your legs together. “Don’t be shy,” he said, sitting up again and laying a hand over each of your breasts, “I can tell you enjoy it when I play with your tits,” You pulled in a shaky breath as he squeezed your breasts, “Mmhmm, yeah,” “Do you want some more?” “Yes, Professor,” He made a short clicking sound with his tongue, “I think we’re past Professor by now, you can call me Roger. And you can tell me what you want,” “I want more,” “More what?” You hummed again at the feeling of him massaging your boobs. “More what? Should I keep sucking on your perky fucking tits? Jesus they’re so fucking soft,” he cleared his throat and shook his head a little, “Or, should I give some other part a bit of attention? Your pussy’s probably feeling a bit left out, huh?” You’d expected him to boss you around, make demands, and you’d expected a bit of dirty talk (the kind where he’d tell you how sexy you looked or that he couldn’t wait to fuck you). But the reality surpassed everything you’d considered likely. You certainly hadn’t expected to get wet just from his tone and his words. And you definitely hadn’t expected to be doing what he asked, agreeing with everything he said. But that’s exactly what was happening, and it felt good. “Please touch my pussy.” “It would be my pleasure,” he smiled softly as he climbed off of your waist and pulled your underwear down, “and yours.”

The change of position gave you a moment to catch your breath but also to take in Roger’s appearance properly. You had to admit you liked what you saw. Of course, you already knew he was attractive. More than once you’d found yourself distracted in class, mind on what a cute bum he had or how shapely his hands were or else on his fluffy hair, light blonde but with streaks of grey blended throughout. He was the epitome of the hot teacher really, especially with his gravelly voice and the youthful sparkle of his eyes, magnified by his usual pair of glasses. What you hadn’t seen before, and what you were revelling in now, was his naked torso. There were muscles in his arms, not Hollywood style bulging biceps and you’d certainly never have noticed them under the sleeves of his work shirts, but they were revealed as he shifted his position and you had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze them. A light fuzz of hair covered his chest, though it was so light it was barely visible, and a marginally thicker thatch of it trailed down into his underwear. And in between was his stomach, the years of fatherhood evidenced by how it softly protruded out over the hem of his underwear. Once, a few years ago, someone had found a photo of Professor Taylor taken in the 90s when he was twenty-something and, thanks to the university meme facebook page and a few students with near influencer levels of followers, just about the whole school had seen it and had wet dreams about it. He’d been stick thin then, eyes ringed by dark grungy eyeliner, long messy hair falling about his face, and his plaid shirt unbuttoned. The Roger settling beside you now was miles away from that boy but you liked his current look, from his shorter hair to his rounder body, though he seemed to have the same skinny legs. “What are you thinking about?” he asked as he propped himself up on his elbow to look you over. “This is…better than I thought it would be,” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t know, I just...I could never picture it before, actually being with you. But you’ve made it feel easy and, well not normal, but y’know, not too strange either.” “So you’ve been liking it so far?” “Mmhmm, it’s felt really good,” “Good, that’s what I want to hear. But,” your breath hitched as you felt his fingers stroke between your legs, “experiments not done yet.” He watched his hand as it moved, his fingers sliding between your lips, spreading the wetness that had begun to pool with his earlier attentions. Each shift of his fingers pulled soft sighs and small ohs from you as the pleasure began to slowly build and you pulled him down into another kiss, wanting to feel him closer. He eased the first finger into you gradually, whispering questions about how it felt and if you were ready for more. You’d have expected his constant quizzing to be annoying but he peppered them between comments about making you feel good and dirty talk about getting you ready for his cock as he pulled your hand over to his crotch to give him some small relief. And somehow everything just seemed to turn you on more, his obvious desire to make sure you were comfortable included. You barely registered when he added the second finger, pumping both into you rhythmically as he delicately sucked at your pulse point, though you knew the third was coming, a response to your pleas for more. You’d meant his dick really, ready to move things along but he’d been adamant about making sure you were properly stretched out, not relenting until he’d fit four fingers inside you. “Fo-four?” you whimpered as he pressed the last one into you, “Three not enough?” “Just to be on the safe side. My cock is about average length but its girthy,” “I – oh Roger – It feels huge to me,” “Please, I’m 46, I know it’s not the biggest thing in the world. But I also know it doesn’t need to be to fuck you so right.” You weren’t sure how to reply though he didn’t give you many options, jerking his fingers inside you and making you moan. “I know there are nerves involved which can impact how wet you get and I don’t want to do anything that would cause you pain or discomfort, so I’m going to finger you until I’m ready to stop. You can beg all you want but I won’t fuck you until I decide you can handle it.” Even that was hot though you weren’t exactly sure why, but whatever it was you found yourself nodding in agreement, staring at him through eyes half lidded with pleasure.

When Roger was satisfied that you were ready for more than his fingers, he pulled them from you and got to his knees, shuffling around to rummage through his bedside cabinet. A moment later you realised why as he kicked off his underwear and tore open a condom. You watched as he rolled it down his shaft, noting he’d described himself quite accurately. “Sorry,” he said as he caught your eye, “did you want to do that?” “No, that’s okay,” you chuckled, “just that Dylan never liked to wear them,” “Hey, we have a rule remember. And this is the first time I’m fucking one of my students, I’m not doing it raw, are you kidding?” “Sorry. And yeah, you’re probably right to use one.” “Hey, this is just the control remember. Condoms are a variable we can change later.” You laughed at that and nodded as Roger squirted some lube into his palm and began stroking himself, letting out small groans at the contact. “Are you going to fuck me yet or is there something else I have to wait for?” “Careful Ms Y/L/N, you know I don’t tolerate that kind of attitude.” He smiled as he crawled over you again, catching your lips quickly before he sat back on his heels and pushed your legs wide. With a final look, as if to give you a chance to end things before they went any further, he lined himself up and pressed himself into you. You gasped as he filled you easily, bottoming out. “God you feel good,” he panted, “are you okay? Can I move?” “Yeah,” you nodded, “please move.” He breathed out a small sigh as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward again, finding a rhythm. As he got more comfortable in the moment, Roger leaned over you again, pushing his face between your breasts and laving your skin with his tongue. He rediscovered the spots he’d found earlier, humming around your nipples and squeezing your boobs as he thrust into you. “Feel good?” “Yeah,” “You close yet?” “Not really.” “That’s alright,” he said softly as he readjusted his position, sitting back and lifting your legs over his shoulders. You felt the angle change as he fucked into you harder than before, his pace a little faster, “Play with your tits for me.” You didn’t hesitate to do as he asked, panting in sync with his thrusts as he dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing in tight circles, forcing more moans and whines from your throat. “That’s right, tell me how good it is to be spread out under your professor, full of my hard cock. Christ you’re so fucking tight. Why didn’t I fuck you sooner?”.” You let your moans pick up a little as he ploughed into you, willing yourself to reach your climax. “Yeah? You like that. Are you close now?” “Uh-” “So no.” “Sorry, i-it just takes a while usually. I could f-fake it if you wa-nt to stop.” “No!” his voice sounded strained as he stilled inside you, “This is about getting you off and I will keep fucking you even if it takes all night for you to cum. I just need to readjust again.” Your laugh became a small whine as he pulled out of you and rolled you over so you were on top of him, “what are you-?” “Ride me. You said you like being on top so ride me,” You smiled and pressed your lips to his quickly before settling yourself over him and carefully sinking down into place. As you took him as deep as you could you halted a moment to enjoy the sensation of being full again, gently rocking your hips as you braced your hands on Roger’s chest. He held your gaze as he slipped two fingers into his mouth, pulling them out when they were dripping with saliva. He pressed them together with his thumb before bringing the wet digits to your right nipple, massaging it until you arched your back and tilted your head backwards. There was no way to resist any longer and you raised yourself on your knees before sinking back down, grunting as he hit just the right spot. “Better?” he grunted. “Mhmm,” you managed to get out before a moan, once again lifting and dropping yourself. You settled into the flow of it, the movement of your hips and the way you pulsed around him as you took him harder and faster, feeling the pleasure build and build and build. Until Roger’s voice, cracking with the effort, broke through your concentration. “Fuck, I’m close, I’m close. I’m gonna cum,” “Okay,” you said, not sure what else you could say, a little disappointed that it was going to be over before you could finish. So much for all night, though you supposed he’d only said that to help you relax and finish faster. At least it was hot watching him unravel beneath you, his grunts and groans loud and shameless, his hips spasming under yours. You waited until he was done, eyes closed and chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his breathing, and then lifted yourself to dismount him. Or you would have, except you felt his hands grab you by the hips and press you down again. “Your turn,” he said it so earnestly, no hint of the dominant teasing from earlier or any egotistical overconfidence, that you found yourself agreeing immediately, shocked into doing what he was guiding you to. You raised your hips again, let him pull you back down hard and before long you’d found your rhythm again. He let go of your hip, moving the hand to messily rub your clit as you shifted a little, changing the angle by a fraction. It was enough to have you careening towards the edge, even as Roger pulled air through his teeth as the extra stimulation. “So close,” you muttered before he could ask, eyes shut, intent on your mission. “C’mon, cum on my cock, show me how good it feels,” You nodded unthinkingly as he encouraged you, feeling it just out of reach until finally the familiar warmth washed over you, a long moan slipping from between your lips as you swivelled your hips, prolonging the orgasm as long as you could. “There you go, good girl.”

                                                      ******

Roger gasped as you climbed off him and carefully removed his condom to throw it out. “I could have done that,” “You did enough.” He was smiling when you turned back to face him and beckoned you over to join him on the bed once more, pressing a kiss to your jaw and the corner of your mouth before he found your lips again. You sighed against him, lost in the blissful warmth of the moment. “I’ll do it. I’ll tutor you,” Roger said after some time, his arm draped over your side, your faces inches from each other. “You mean it?” “Yes.” “Because I’m a hot shag?” He let out an exhale of laughter, “Because I would rather you learnt about that kind of stuff from someone like me than some random on the internet who thinks that being dominant means being cruel or causing pain. At least I can make sure you approach things from a healthy angle with your own enjoyment in mind as much as your ex’s.” “Thank you. So…when do we start?” “Give me a few days to plan out some lessons, put together a curriculum.” “Oh, so it’s going to be like proper tutoring then.” “You’re the one that came to a teacher about this.” “Fair enough.” You would have happily stayed there longer and you later wondered if Roger would have let you had an alarm on his phone not gone off, a reminder to put his bins out for collection in the morning. He frowned as he realised the time and glanced at you. The piercing melody had brought the reality of the situation back to both of you. “I guess that means I should leave, right?” Roger sat up and scooted a little further away from you, “Yes, you probably should.” He paused for a moment, “No one can know about this.” “I know, I understand. It’s our secret.” He pulled in a breath, “Exactly, our secret. Do you need me to call you a cab?” “No, it’s fine, I drove here.” “Okay. Well, why don’t we get dressed and I’ll walk you out.” “Are you okay with this? If you really don’t want to teach me, I’d understand.” “No I want to. More than I should.” “That’s okay. No one will know and we’ll do things your way, whatever you think is best.” “My way,” he muttered to himself, “Yes. Exactly. Okay. Um, tell you what,” he swung his legs out of the bed and bent forward to retrieve the underwear he’d discarded earlier, pulling them up under cover of the corner of the bed sheet, “I will grab my things and go collect our dishes from dinner. You can stay here and get changed and then when you’re ready to go, come find me in the kitchen, okay Ms Y/L/N?” “Sounds great, Professor Taylor.” He nodded at you once more before he left, bending to collect his pants and shirt on his way. You waited a minute or so, mind racing with the events of the evening and the promise of what would be coming, before you too stood and began to redress.

When you felt sufficiently tidy you stepped out into the hallway and headed in the direction you hoped led to the kitchen. Roger was there, redressed and hardly looking like he’d just got out of bed, leaning against the bench, eyes out of focus. When you arrived though his head jerked around towards your movement. “All good?” he asked, “got everything?” “Yeah, think so.” “Well,” he said, leading you towards the front door, “it was great having you. Over. Having you over. I’m glad we could come to an agreement.” “It was great for me too Professor.” “I will see you in class on Monday, don’t forget about that reading you’re meant to do.” “Got it. Um, can I ask about my next tutoring session, when would that be?” “I will talk to you about it after class on Monday if that’s okay.” “Absolutely, whatever works for you Professor.” He opened the door, standing on his side of the entrance as you stepped outside, “Right, well. Goodnight Ms Y/L/N,” “Goodnight Roger,” you said, quickly leaning in to kiss his cheek, “and thank you.” He still looked a little stunned as you got into your car, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.

[blitzturtles]

Title: Guilt

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders (set after Golden Wind, given Jolyne's age.)

Pairing(s): JotaKak, JoKa, (Platonic) Jotaro & Jolyne, (Platonic) Kakyoin & Jolyne

Summary: Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

Notes: Involves emergency surgery, chronic pain, preteen!Jolyne, PTSD, disabled Kakyoin, and near death experiences.

-

Here's the thing: Jolyne hates him. It's not a secret, and it's definitely not something that she bothers to hide from him. Jotaro keeps swearing that she'll come around. Says she's just stubborn (like her father is, Kakyoin sometimes thinks with far too much affection for a man that regularly drives him up the wall). There's also the fact that she's a preteen, and kids are apparently just like that at her age.

Here's the thing: Kakyoin would hate him, too. If he were in her situation. He's petty on a good day, and a right bastard on any other. He can't imagine being in her situation. With divorced parents who, while amicable, are both ridiculously successful and constantly busy. And then waltzed in Kakyoin, right in the middle of it. Though 'waltz' is a bit of a stretch. He doesn't do anything like that with his plated spine and braced legs, but none of that matters. The real point is that he gets it.

He does his best to never push more than he has to. For the most part, he lets Jolyne do her own thing, because she's a Kujo and a Joestar. She's going to do what she wants anyways. His opinion be damned, though he does try to reason with her. Hell, he's given into bribing every once in a while. (Sometimes the means don't matter when father and daughter are both happy at the end of the day.)

In short: Jolyne hates him, and Kakyoin understands.

______

Here's the thing: Jolyne finds Kakyoin to be a nuisance. An interference. One more complication to an already complicated life, and she's only eleven. She wants her parents to get over their bullshit (language!) and figure out how to make things work. She wants Kakyoin to go away, but that doesn't mean she wants him dead. Or injured. Even if she did wish him off the end of a pier that one time. Still.

They've admittedly grown to be more friendly over time. She talks to him now, which is an improvement to the chronic cold shoulder she gave him before. Sometimes she even asks him for help, because her dad can be surprisingly useless when it comes to school work (weren't you in school when I was little?) He always seems happy to help, and he never gets as frustrated as her dad.

So maybe she doesn't hate him, but she definitely wants him to go away.

______

Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

He doesn't need to know-- specifically-- what went wrong to know that he's dying. The moment the pain goes from barely tolerable to utterly agonizing is about when his brain lets him know that he's operating on borrowed time.

Kakyoin could have used that warning approximately five minutes ago. Before the pain. Before he found himself in front of Jolyne.

"I'm sorry," he tries to say, hopes the words come out audible enough for her to understand.

There are tears welling up in her eyes, and they fall soon enough. God, he's made Jolyne cry. She's so young. So unprepared. And she looks so much like Jotaro. With panic stricken eyes and fingers that grasp for something to do. Some way to fix this. It makes his chest ache beyond the twisting and shearing that his insides are already doing.

(She looks exactly like Jotaro, in the hospital after the Foundation managed to retrieve them. The way her hands fumble in the air is so much like how Jotaro had reached out desperately, trying to hold onto Kakyoin, in case those had been his last moments. Like father, like daughter, Kakyoin thinks without humor.)

His knees hit the ground first, and that shoots pain up his legs and along his hips. The rest of it ricochets and dies somewhere midway up his spine. It's a momentary distraction away from the agony that is his middle. He reaches with his fingers to press against his stomach, half expecting them to sink inward (into nothingness. There's nothing. Dio punched a hole right through him, and he's going to die.)

Jolyne is yelling. His name at first, then for her father. Again, he's reminded of the day he died. Maybe it's all been a dream. He's waking up now and the end is pressing down on him. The light will follow soon. He knows; he's seen it before.

"Please!" Jolyne begs him, "I'm sorry!"

He is, too. It's the last thing he thinks before his eyes slide shut and the darkness grabs at him greedily.

______

There's shouting and bright lights and something covering his face. He can't make out anything with his vision so blurry, but he thinks he hears Jotaro's angry voice booming what could be an entire room away.

"If you fucking put a finger on him that isn't necessary to keep him alive. I'll fuck-"

"Dad!"

Jotaro inhales sharply but nods to the surgeon one, final time, "His team is on their way. Not a goddamn finger."

______

The Speedwagon Foundation has several doctors that Kakyoin sees on a semi-regular basis. Each is a specialist in their own right, and they're the only reason Kakyoin ever made it home from Egypt. They're also the only ones that regularly work on updating all the augmented parts and maintaining the damaged remains of Kakyoin's organs. They know him inside and out. Quite literally.

The team makes it to the hospital long before Kakyoin comes out of emergency surgery, which means the whole process is extended significantly. The upside (if it could be called that) is that Kakyoin doesn't have to be put under again. The downside is that it means they'll be waiting awhile.

Jotaro does his best to be strong for Jolyne. It's his job as a parent to keep a calm façade and push his emotions to the side. She needs someone to be her reassurance.

He fails miserably.

______

The head of the Foundation team emerges some hours later, looking a little worse for wear. The stoicism past that does little for Jotaro's nerves. It tells him nothing of what to expect.

"Well?"

"He's stable," the doctor answers. "We had to take out several inches of colon this time. If I had to guess, he probably believed himself to be having a flare. He adjusted to the pain until he became necrotic." His expression shifts into an unpleased frown, "He also has two ulcers. Has he changed his diet? Or experienced any new stressors?"

Jolyne's lip quivered as she processed the doctor's words. She thought over every time she and Kakyoin had fought in recent history. Most of it being her yelling at him.

Jotaro's focus remains fixated on the doctor, "What the hell kind of pain is he still having?"

The doctor-- one Jotaro recognizes from previous visits but can't recall the name of-- sighs, "Kakyoin will only allow us to do so much to help manage his pain. I'm not his specialist in that regard, but it's at his request that he's kept on very little in terms of medication."

Jotaro knows that. He knows that Kakyoin doesn't like what stronger pain meds do to his head, but how out of control is his pain that he didn't notice that he was dying? That his body has been rotting from the inside out for an unknown amount of time?

Jolyne shifts further behind him, drawing his attention to her. It's the only thing that spares the doctor whatever response Jotaro might have otherwise formed. He turns to look at Jolyne and is startled by the tears already trailing down her round cheeks. Realization hits him then.

She's eleven, and he's an idiot.

"Hey, hey. Enough with that. He's going to be okay," Jotaro says quickly. He should have- called her mother or his mother or literally anyone. This isn't a conversation she needed to be privy to.

"It's me," Jolyne chokes the words out. Her thin arms wrap tight around her middle, and she looks close to collapsing on the ground.

Jotaro, admittedly, has no idea what she's talking about, "What's you?"

"The stress!" She practically wails.

Jotaro sighs and moves to wrap his arms around Jolyne. He tugs her in against his chest. "That- that's not the kind of stress the doctor is talking about," he glances over his shoulder to see that the man had already dismissed himself. Smart guy.

"I'm always mean to him!"

Jotaro wants to laugh. Not at all because he thinks her words-- or her suffering-- are funny, but because the whole situation feels unreal. He cards his fingers through her hair instead. It's all the comfort he feels like he can offer in a situation like this. With his own resolve teetering on the edge.

"Takes a lot more than that to take out Noriaki," he's lying through his teeth. The whole new family thing might damn well be enough stress, but he's never going to let Jolyne think this is her fault. It's not. Kakyoin is capable of making his own decisions, and being part of their family is one of them.

Jolyne crumbles against him despite the gentle words, so he scoops her up and holds her against his chest. Even at eleven, she's nothing compared to his size. He finds a nearby seat to settle into and lets her cry while he whispers promises he can't be sure he'll be able to keep. Eventually he tries distracting her with facts about dolphins, and that either has some effect, or she passes out from exhaustion. Either way, he's relieved when she snores against his neck.

______

Kakyoin comes to the waking world in a haze. His head aches and his middle feels a lot like it might have been ripped open again. He hopes that whatever happened had been a little more civil than that.

It doesn't take him long to place himself in the hospital. That's good. He isn't dead, and he's not immediately at risk of falling into enemy hands. The beeping to his left is annoying, and he can't see well enough to make anything out on the monitors around him. His vision tends to be the last thing to recover when he's been knocked out for a while. Still, he turns his head to continue to take in what he can make out.

He stops short when he sees two people in chairs on his right side, closer to the door. The familiar hat catches his attention immediately, not that he needs to be able to see at one hundred percent (or his version of it) to know that the man is none other than Jotaro. His size will always give him away before anything else.

Jotaro's head is bowed in a way that indicates he's likely asleep. He's undoubtedly been here awhile. Jolyne sits beside him with her head pressed against her father's bicep. Star Platinum is out and wrapped around both of them. He lifts his hand from Jotaro a moment to wave at him brightly, which is enough to disturb his user's sleep.

"Mm?" Jotaro grunts. He opens his eyes and sucks in a breath. He takes a moment to compose himself, which is fine. Kakyoin thinks he probably looks worse than he feels, thanks to the drugs. He would make a joke about it, but moving still hurts.

"Good to see you awake. How're you feeling?" Jotaro asks. He doesn't move from his spot, if only to avoid waking up Jolyne, but that intense gaze is evaluating all the same.

Kakyoin gives a noncommittal answer, and Jotaro snorts, "That's what I thought you'd say. Good thing we have this." He reaches for the little controller on the side of Kakyoin's bed. He presses the red button before Kakyoin can protest.

The glare he shoots Jotaro is relatively short-lived, and it's hard to be mad when Jotaro looks so damn triumphant, even if it's about something that Kakyoin has complicated feelings about. He decides to let him have this one, considering the fact that he's pretty sure he gave them all one nightmarish scare.

"I'm sorry," he says after a while, head lulling back against the pillows. His red hair spreads out all around. It's longer now than it ever has been, but he hasn't felt the need to cut it beyond a simple trim in years. It doesn't matter, but it gives himself something to focus on rather than the gnawing guilt.

"Don't be."

"I- god, I never meant-"

"Kakyoin."

"If I had known, I would have left the room or-"

"Kak-"

"She was so afraid. And she-"

"Noriaki," Jotaro snaps more than says the name, but his eyes are soft. "You aren't the only one that made her cry in the last few hours, so you're not special." That's not true. Kakyoin is incredibly special, but he needs to make some kind of light-hearted comment before he starts crying. Nobody needs to see that.

"Still," Kakyoin mumbles, but he doesn't continue.

Jotaro reaches out with Star, who clasps his large hand over one of Kakyoin's. He wants to lean forward himself, but he doesn't want to wake Jolyne up. Not yet.

Kakyoin turns his palm up to tangle his fingers together with Star's. He brushes his thumb over the stand's, knowing Jotaro can feel it reflected on his skin.

"I really thought it was a flare," he says after a while, because he feels like he owes some sort of explanation after everything.

"Nori, I really can't tell you how much I don't give a damn about that," Jotaro frowns at his own words, "No, I mean- I care, but- fuck." He scrubs his hand over his face a few times before trying again, "You don't have to feel guilty for this shit, okay? I should have noticed you were in pain."

Kakyoin shakes his head. He squeezes Star's hand to make sure Jotaro's listening when he speaks, "It's not your fault. I deal with this pain all the time. It just- at first it felt like a flare, but I guess I got used to it." And every time the pain worsened, he acclimated until it had nearly killed him.

Jotaro doesn’t get a chance to respond before Jolyne is rustling against him. She opens her eyes a crack and reaches up to wipe at them with her fists. “Dad?”

“Right here,” Jotaro grunts in response. He squeezes her shoulder gently, then retracts his arm to give her space to stretch out. “Kakyoin is awake.”

He watches the fog clear from her eyes. They widen as she processes his words, and her attention immediately turns to the redhead, who waves meekly at her.

“Jolyne, I’m- oof!”

Star quickly gets his hands around Jolyne’s waist, suspending her in the air enough to keep her weight from falling too heavily onto Kakyoin. He lets her down carefully, and the youngest Kujo looks sheepish for her overreaction.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” Kakyoin says, curling an arm around her loosely in return. He hadn’t expected to be nearly tackled upon awakening. That went doubly so when considering Jolyne as a factor. She’s never hugged him before. Trauma is funny in that way; something he knows from first hand experience.

Jotaro steps up behind her and offers a small smile to Kakyoin, “We’re glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah!” Jolyne echoes, “You scared the shit out of us!”

“Jolyne,” Jotaro’s voice is gruff. An attempt at a warning that falls short. The way his lips pull further upward is a dead giveaway that he isn’t particularly upset by her language usage.

“It’s true!”

“Good grief.”

Kakyoin snorts at the father-daughter duo, relieved to see the two smiling again. Already bickering as per usual. There’s too much snark trapped in the Joestar bloodline, and it always amplifies whenever there’s more than one of them in a room. He’d know, having been on the road with Joseph and Jotaro in the past.

Somehow the back and forth settles into Jolyne rambling about dolphins. She regurgitates facts that-- for the most part-- Kakyoin already knows, but he feigns shock and awe at all the right places to keep her spirit up. It’s more healing to watch her babble emphatically than it is lying around in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. It eases some of the guilt, makes him feel lighter.

Eventually, Jotaro whiskers her out the door. Kakyoin catches sight of Holly, which must mean that Marina is tied up. Holly doesn’t come in, likely at her son’s behest. The woman is a mother through and through, and she can be a bit overwhelming at times. Better to focus all that maternal energy on Jolyne for now.

“You look tired,” Jotaro says when the door clicks shut behind the two. He takes his spot back next to Kakyoin’s bed, pulling his chair as close as he can. His knees grind against the railing of the bed a bit, but the distance allows him to lean forward and get a good look at his partner.

“I could say the same about you,” Kakyoin points out with a raised brow. He still can’t pick up his head for more than a few seconds at a time, and his vision remains fuzzy around the edges; a likely side effect of being drugged to the gills, but he isn’t blind. He can see the bags collecting under Jotaro’s eyes. Exhaustion-- emotional as much as it is physical-- already weighing his shoulders down.

Jotaro snorts an unamused sound, “I’m not the one that just had emergency surgery.”

Kakyoin winces at the reminder. “I’m-”

“If you finish that statement, I’m going to give you a reason to be sorry,” he isn’t. Jotaro won’t hurt him, but the words make Kakyoin close his mouth anyways. For a second.

“Oh, and how are you going to do that?”

Jotaro stares him down for a solid thirty seconds, expecting him to back down. When he doesn’t, the man pushes himself to his feet with an exasperated sigh. “Good grief, c’mere,” his fingers hook under Kakyoin’s chin, and he leans down to press their lips together.

As far as life affirming kisses go, it’s one of Jotaro’s more gentle ones, but Kakyoin feels the thrill of it chasing down his spine anyways.

“I love you,” Kakyoin murmurs as they break apart. He wants to add an apology to the end, but he bites his lip and keeps it to himself for now. He’ll find a way to make it up to Jotaro and Jolyne later.

“Love you, too, Tenmei.”

[nestasgalpal]

The art of antagonism

Fixing ACOSF part 7

Masterlist | AO3

Summary: It’s Starfall, the most beautiful night of the year in the Night Court. Nesta is with her friends, dancing with them, and not even his unexpected appearence will ruin it.

A/N: I AM SORRY IT TOOK ME MONTHS. I got a job and didn’t have that much time. There was so much these two needed to discuss... and there is more coming in the next chapters (WHICH I HAVE DRAFTED BECAUSE THEY WERE SO MUCH EASIER TO WRITE THAN THIS ONE). Anyway, here is the next part of Fixing A Court of Gaslighting.

Tagging:  @gwynriel​ @zoyaslai​ @clolikescloquetas​ @amelievrstr​  @t8astr8ng @wanderlustlastsforever @saltydreamcollector​ @lordlorcan​ @esrahiba​ @queenestarcheron​  @jemstan300​ @nessiantrashh​ @azrielandhawkesropebunny  @frosted-crackers  @mireillemystique​ @pataytayo​ @968sunflower968​ @caram267​ @jainadurron​ @darkshadowqueensrule​ @amphiptree @finae-bookshelf​ @niytavia​ @brainlessfruit​ @dontgetsalmonella​ @messyhairday-me​ @sunsummoner​  @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens​ @wannawriteyouabook​ @psychoticminx​ @misswonderflower​  @drielecarla​ ​

The night was even more beautiful now that Nesta laid on the cold grass, Gwyn dancing nearby with her feet bare. Stars rained over them.

The training yards on the rooftop took most of the space, but there was enough room for the three of them to lay on the soft grass that started to grow with the early spring weather. Emerie was not with them yet. Her sister said Azriel would go sought her, but it was taking him a little longer than she had anticipated. 

Gwyn sang. She did so quietly enough that Nesta only grasped some of it, the soft melody flowing between them. Her friend literally glowed covered in stardust, like a goddess who looked down to the city of light and shone for its citizens. Her presence there -out of the library at night- a blessing to them.

Nesta got up from her mat and joined the improvised dance to the rythm of Gwyn’s light mutter. Nesta made her twirl and then catched her in her arms, laughing at how clumpsy the manuver came out. Gwyn laughed too, and Nesta knew she had made the right decision when she left Feyre’s party.

She wanted to spend her first Starfall -the first Starfall she would remember- with her new friends.

Stars zoomed in the sky, fast and beautiful. Nesta let Gwyn spin her and then take her hand, the other one now resting in the priestess shoulder. They moved together in harmony, not performing the choreography or any real dance she knew, yet swinging with grace.

Then, Emerie arrived. Only it was not Az who brought her to them, but Rhysand.

Nesta’s joy vanished in a heartbeat. What was he doing here? Emerie run to them. She looked unharmed, smiling as she approached and waving her hand with excitement. Nesta walked past her, straight to Rhysand.

“Feyre asked me to bring her here” he explained before Nesta said a word.

“Did she?” not a single syllable was free of poison and distrust.  She knew it was a lie, her sister hadn’t asked him.

The High Lord didn’t try to deny the silent accusation. Because he didn’t really care that she knew it had been his idea -that he had asked Feyre to be the one bringing Emerie to Velaris, and she had agreed. He wanted Nesta to know that after the last fight with his mate, he had been forgiven, and her sister trusted him blindly again.

Silence didn’t have time to settle between them before Nesta found the strength in herself to answer to his silent jibe with just as much pettiness. “Well, that’s good. For a moment I thought you were here to join us. And you know, we usually don’t accept new members when they’ve threatened the life of one of us.” Nesta shrugged, her face not showing a pinch of the bad blood she felt. Her eyes did that for her, as did Rhysand’s in return.

“I already apologized for that” was all he said. Yes, he had apologized to Feyre. And to Cassian, who had been comfortably talking to him in the balcony.

But not to her. The one whose life he had threatened. He didn’t think he had to. And nobody expected him to do so either, apparently.

Facing him wasn’t something she had anticipated for tonight. She didn’t feel prepared at all.

Learning to respect herself enough to keep going with her life was not an easy path, and her sister’s mate was still the biggest obstacle she would have to face after she came to terms with herself.

Not tonight, please. Not now.

Rhysand had threatened her multiple times. And he hadn’t apologized to her once. It wasn’t fair. That much, she knew. In theory, this should be easy -facing him and demanding respect. But in practice it wasn’t. Nesta found herself struggling to keep control of her emotions, her anger, her guiltiness. There was a learned habit of believing his words to be true because everyone else seemed to agree with him and it was either accepting them as well, or be left alone to stand against him.

He had the same confident grin he had worn the day Feyre sent her here. That disgusting grim Nesta dreaded. She knew that if he had tried to look only a little more intimidating, she would have fallen back in line, accepting that she was still his prisoner in The House of Wind, a building she couldn’t escape from. But the way his confident eyes looked down on her made the mist in her mind vanish, her rage rising up like a shield -her old reliable walls.

She was done with being the only one who was held accountable for her mistakes.

A high-pitched laugh came from where Gwyn and Emerie were sharing a welcome hug. Only a few little lanterns on the floor lightened up the space, stars doing the rest.

They oozed joy as Nesta turned her back to them to face her sister’s mate again. She wanted to join her friends, but had to do this first. Because Nesta had endured too much already, and wasn’t willing to let this male ruin the most beautiful night of the year for her. She was determined to have fun with her Valkyrie sisters, so if Rhysand wanted trouble, he would have to wait.

They would have a confrontation another time, and it would be on her terms.

“You should go back to your party. You have guests.”

The High Lord nodded. His semblance was relaxed, comfortable. In control. “You do too. Though it looks like you are missing one. Do you want me to bring Elain up here as well?” Nesta fought the impulse to tighten her jaw and fists. She made herself breathe through the anger and keep her mien blank. “Get one sister, loose the other, I guess”. He shifted on his feet, his hands now in his pockets, the image of a confident male. He waved his hand to her friends behind her, a smile on his lips that didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll never forget Elain’s tears when she came back from visiting you that last time”.

“And I’ll never care about what you think of that.”

Nesta tried to make her words heavy with venom. Unmoving stone against his constant pushing. She intended for them to sound like a final statement. But truth can’t always be bent like that, sometimes it flungs free. Against her will, her voice was light, syllables one after the other coming out of her mouth as naturally as breathing.

Not cold, not welcoming or tinted with any hue of sentiment at all. Her words were a simple and transparent truth: She didn’t care what he said, what he thought of her or what he did. She never would, no matter how many traps and punishments Rhysand devised for her, or how strong his High Lord abilities affected her psyche. There was no room inside her left to care about this male in front of her anymore. Specially, not now.

Because he would never change who he was, or how far he was willing to go to see his goals materialize. Nesta was beyond caring, anyway. Beyond trying to earn his pardon.

Nesta told herself she was the master of her own fate, as her sisters and every other person in her live controlled their own. She repeated the words like a mantra, an exercise to convince herself and keep her cool. Whatever I want, I can work for it with or without his approval.

Nesta took in the image presented in front of her. The delicate embroidery of his tunic, the carefully styled hair. The overall perfection of his appearance. And concluded that he wasn’t worth the effort of coming up with witty insults. He simply needed to leave her party and go back to his own.

“You’ve made your loved ones cry a fair amount as well, and they found a way to forgive you. If what you’ve done to others can be excused, then I’m sure my sisters and I will find a way to work things out as well. We are long-lasting creatures now, We are in no hurry.”

As his only answer, Rhysand fixed his gaze behind her again and smiled, a wicked grin darkening his beautiful features. Emerie’s burst of laughter echoed in the rooftop. He kept his stare there. Nesta could almost hear his brain at work, but didn’t get a clear reading of his thoughts.

There was a weird feeling about his presence there, the way he kept looking at the illyrian and the priestess. He was monitoring them, as if making sure they were okay. That’s when it clicked -the reason why her sister’s mate had insisted on winnowing Emerie himself. He didn’t travel all the way to Illyria to provoke her, he was actually making sure Nesta wasn’t a threat to her friend’s safety.

He had already warned her once about that on that same spot of the House of Wind.

Why did he insist on making of Nesta such a monster in his mind?

The only reason she even met her Valkyrie sisters was him locking her in that damned house carved in the mountain. It had been his idea to make her work in the library with the priestess. It had been an order of his that she went to Windhaven to train. Why did he insist of making a threat of her even when he was the one moving her around and controlling her every movement?

“Haven’t you taken enough from me already?” she asked when the silence became too much, anger rising in her stomach and burning all the way up to her throat.

She really needed to know. Because as days went on, she started questioning what did her sister’s mate even expect from her. To what end had he engined this plan? What did he want from her before he let her out? That’s if he ever intended to do so...

Does he only want to see my spirit broken?

Nesta was well aware of how her choices had hurt Feyre. Cassian. Even Elain. But what had she even done to him? Why did he go around pretending her life and her future belonged to him so fiercely she had almost believed it as well? Why was he so convinced of his entitlement to grant her a pardon or not, even when the rest had already made peace with her?

That, she didn’t understand. That was precisely what made her shake and be scared of the future. That she didn’t know. That she didn’t know if the rest did either. That they saw and heard him act like that... and didn’t say anything.

That was what made her fall and fall again under his power. Whenever she felt like his treatment was unfair, she looked around and realized she was the only one who had a problem with it. She doubted herself, how reliable her own judgement was.

But she had to come out of that darkness.

She had to, or else she would really crumple up and perish once and for all.

When Rhysand looked back at her, he scanned her features as if she were a puzzle, a mystery. His own personal challenge that didn’t exist beyond his own perception. A hint of pity shone for a second in his pupils, then disappeared as if it had never been there.

“Don’t you think you deserved some of it?” he asked back. When Nesta didn’t answer, he decided to explain it to her with the condescension only those who didn’t belong to his circle knew from him. “You don’t even know how deeply your actions have hurt her. How much damage you have caused.” Rhysand gave a step closer. Nesta didn’t back down. “She keeps forgiving you because she’s already imagined what her life looks like with you by her side and wants it desperately. You prey on her innocence -on her unconditional love. You take advantage of it and fail her time after time.” The High Lord was gritting his teeth “Yet she keeps coming back to you. I refuse to allow this behavior from you anymore. I must put an end to it before you drag her down with you to that well you seem unable to escape. If you want to be miserable, so be it. But I won’t allow you to ruin my mate as well.”

Oh.

So that’s it.

It hurt. It hurt way more than she could have anticipated. Nesta had spent countless hours looking between her memories for the most painful ones. For those times when she had been so awful there was no room for redemption. She had been the first one to use them against herself in those long nights of self-loathing. Nesta had gone over and over those times when she picked on her sisters, she had memorized every insult thrown at them until the words lost their meaning and no longer could be used to hurt herself.

Nesta thought nobody could use that against her better than she already did and make her hate who she was more than she ever did. So it hurt to listen to Rhysand and understand what was hidden behind his words. There was an underlying truth that she had never even considered. A new layer to the High Lord’s character that she had never known. Yet suddenly, it all made sense.

And it hurt.

It hurt to realize that Rhysand wouldn’t stop trying to keep her away from Feyre because he was jealous. He was jealous that it didn’t matter what he gave her -a crown, a court, the world itself... Feyre wouldn’t have the life she wanted until she had her sister by her side to enjoy it. It almost made her laugh, hadn’t it been the cause for almost a year of missery.

It was sad and pathetic to realize this male was using every weapon at his disposal to ruin her because of his own insecurity, his own fear of not being enough.

She had been suffering this nightmare for him. For his ego.

“I did kind of deserve this” she answered with honesty, her arms spreading at her sides to point at the space. Her open sky prison. “The first time a High Lord used a fake law to manipulate me and my family to his will, I was unprepared. But this second time, I kind of deserved it. I should have known.”

Rhysand’s eyes widened as she spoke, but Nesta wasn’t finished yet “Do you get like a manual, or something, when you sit on the throne? How to trick stupid girls into giving up their freedom? How to keep them quiet when they refuse?” she mocked.

His eyes were voids of blackness that seemed to swallow her, his dark essence flinging free around them. To say his performance was a threat would be a stretch. It wasn’t a threat, it was the preparation for an attack. The scent of his anger hit her senses and almost knocked her out, a death promise painted in his fine features.

Don’t you ever compare me to him, he growled in her mind.

But Nesta had faced death too many times to be scared of it anymore.

She took a step closer as a savage grin formed in her lips. Unafraid. Because she was sure his threats would become true, and the thought of it made her shiver. But so would hers, if the male in front of her even considered hurting Feyre, her friends of Nesta herself again. “Then stop doing the same shit he did”.

Her words came out as a whisper, soft in the way a lion’s fur was to the touch. A softness that didn’t make its jaws even slightly less dangerous when it prayed upon its victim.

And they hit their mark.

Rhysand’s hands were fists

Nesta was already preparing her next jibe. She wanted him to leave, to stay away from her. But if he refused, then she was ready to fight him to filth. To make him see for himself how hard it was to make peace with everything she needed to mend, every person she had hurt, when he kept going after her for the fun of it. She would make him go through it if that was the only option he left her.

But when Nesta met his gaze, she thought she saw a kind of hurt deep in his pupils so familiar that she wondered if the black in his eyes was only reflecting her own. “I only want to protect my mate” he said at last, his eyes endlessly tired now. She would have pitied him. Had he ever granted Nesta a little consideration before dismissing her as a monster, as a threat, as the cause of every single inconvenience in their lives, she would have pitied him. It wasn’t the case.

“Then go sought her, and leave me alone.” 

He did. Without any last comment to torment her evening, without a last threatening glare to let her know that she had won this fight, but not the war, Rhysand went for the stairs, and got lost in the darkness.

Nesta gave a step back, not wanting to turn her back to the stairs... just in case. Only when she made sure her sister’s husband wasn’t coming back and her erratic breathing became normal again, she went to meet her friends.

Gwyn was barefoot and sited on the ground, her hair all the colors except the auburn shade the Mother had given her. Emerie was standing by her side.

“Is everything okay?” the illyrian asked.

Nesta forced herself to open her mouth in a broad smile for her friends to see.

“Yeah, it was just a misunderstanding” they didn’t look convinced “Family stuff. Sometimes it’s hard to draw the line between family business and the obligations of one’s job, you know.”

Emerie’s hand found hers and gave it a tug. “Well, whenever it becomes too much to handle, come find us.”

“You can always count on us, Nesta. We’ll be here for you.”

Gwyn raised from the grass with some help from her hands. She moved her arms around them, her lips forming a smile that showed all her teeth. When Nesta thought the redhead was going to hug them, she opened her fists in their faces, stardust  flowing from them and into their bodies.

Emerie coughed, Nesta only burst out a loud laugh that resonated in every balcony of the House of Wind. She had been taken by surpise. And it had been fun.

Nesta forgot about every other person she had met that night and the presence of those two females by her side became so obvious and indubitable, she almost cried for a second time.

Her friends. She was going to spend Starfall with her friends. The family she had chosen. Who had also chosen her.

Emerie was giggling too, but she hadn’t appreciated the surprise as much as Nesta. “Why did you do that?” she reprimanded Gwyn, the amusement impossible to hide.

“You were too clean. I think I have stardust even under the tunic” Gwyn said. Her slippers, abandoned in a corner, were for sure coated with light blue glimmer.

“They are spirits, Gwyneth Berdara!” Emrie corrected. “It’s not dust.”

Was it not? Nesta didn’t know about that, or how spirits could take this form at all. She had always imagined ghosts as ethereal beings, not shooting stars.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s just enjoy the night. You probably don’t want to be bored by a history lesson” she joked.

“I do.” Nesta sat on the grass, Gwyn was quick to follow. “I want you to tell me everything about it, please”.

Emerie had to give in and let the smile she was hiding shine on her lips. Pretending she wasn’t as eager to share legends and stories about her Court with them as they were to hear her talk, Emerie started her tale.

Stories about our Court, she corrected herself. Because it was now a home for the three of them.

[fanartfunart]

Fly Away

Episode 6: Riposte

Ao3 - First - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

(Féline Sombre & Paon Lilas designs)

Summery: An AU where Adrien never went to in-person school, not getting the cat miraculous, and found the peacock miraculous. - Marinette and Sabrina try out for D’Argencourt’s fencing academy, and a mysterious person challenges Adrien for a spot in the academy.

-

“You've been reviewing the fencing rules all weekend, it's going to be great!” Tiki exclaimed cheerfully. Marinette smiled and nodded.

“Oh! Marinette!” Sabrina waved cheerily, holding her fencing helmet under her arm. Tiki squeaked and hid in a fencing helmet as the other teen ran up to Marinette. 

“Hi? Sabrina?” Marinette said slowly, looking around the room, “...Is Chloé here?”

They nodded, “Yep! She’s going to be watching!”

Marinette grimaced. Great, now she had to worry about Chloé judging her too. She shook her head, “I… didn’t know you were interested in fencing?”

“I thought it’d go well with my self defense training. It should be fun too! For lots of reasons! Chloé and I roleplay as superheroes sometimes... Well, actually, Chloé’s always Ladybug-” Marinette made a face, but Sabrina didn’t comment on it, “and I used to play the villains. But now that Paon Lilas showed up, I finally have a superhero to play as! …. Anyway, while I researched the sport, I noticed much of his combat style is informed by fencing-” she shifted into a fencing stance, making a few combat poses (which did in fact, remind Marinette of Paon Lilas), “You can tell by the way he moves.”

“You roleplay as… Paon Lilas? Why?” Marinette frowned, crossing her arms, “What about Féline Sombre? They’re cool.”

Sabrina straightened their posture, smiling almost nervously, “...You think Féline Sombre’s cool?” she shook her head, “I, uh, do too... but... I uh- I... Paon Lilas matches my color scheme! Blue and purple!”

Marinette sighed, “Of course… Well, good luck Sabrina-” She grabbed a fencing helmet, and dropped it on her head. Marinette yelped, stumbling back, noticing something inside the helmet. Tiki stared at her from inside with wide eyes. After the initial shock, the kwami had to cover her mouth to contain her giggle.

“...You okay Marinette?” Sabrina asked.

She gave Tiki a glance and took the helmet back off to allow Tiki to subtly hide in a better spot. “Yep. Yep, don’t mind me, just- thought a loose hair was a spider for a second…” she pointedly brushed some of her hair away from her face and grinned awkwardly. She ran from the room to get in place with the rest of the prospective students.

-

“I am the fencing master, Mr. D'Argencourt. Instead of the estimated one open spot, we have two, due to an… unexpected drop out…. The coward,”  Mr. D’Argencourt said, flourishing his saber, “So, in order to select the best possible candidates, I will observe the beginners performing a number of attacks on the experienced students,” he gestured to the group of the current students, “Get into position!” 

Marinette squeaked as one of the students walked towards her, “Actually, maybe I’m not cut out for this…” 

“If you’re worried about why Landon dropped out, it’s because of the akuma attacks, not because of the classes. He and his mom are moving out of Paris,” the fencer explained. 

“Oh thank goodness- Oh well, I mean, not for Landon because that must be hard- I- It’s just- I mean, the akumas certainly aren’t great- ” Marinette sputtered. She sighed, and offered her hand, “I’m Marinette.”

The fencer raised his helmet. Adrien smiled, “I know. It’s nice to see you here.”

“Wh-” Marinette’s brows furrowed, “Wait, weren’t you sick? Why are you doing sports?”

He blushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ve been feeling better since last week. And, uh, skipping class… wasn’t an option. Don’t worry, I talked to Mr. D’Argencourt beforehand. If I ever raise both of my hands in surrender, it’s because I got dizzy or something, and we’ll stop. He’ll get you rotated with a different partner.”

Marinette nodded firmly, “As long as you’re being safe.”

“Get into position!” D’Argencourt commanded. 

Adrien smiled at her and dropped his helmet back over his face. With a quick instruction on her form, Adrien stepped back into his side of the strip, waiting for Marinette to get a hang of what she was doing. They fenced for a while as Adrien explained how saber fencing worked. Eventually, he regretfully had to request a time out.

Marinette pushed her helmet up, “You feeling okay?”

He nodded, pushing his own up, taking in a deep breath of the unrestricted air, “Just winded, I’m gonna get some water and I’ll be good to go for another bout.” 

When Adrien returned, the class was bunched together. He easily spotted Chloé in the crowd (being the only person not in fencing gear) and walked next to her. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Adrikins!” Chloé hugged him, and really, he’d rather not have had the air squeezed out of him at the moment, but resigned himself to it anyway. “This kid in red showed up and says they’re the best fencer everywhere they’ve been- but don’t worry, they’re obviously not as good as you.” 

He raised a brow but said nothing. 

“All right!” D’Argencourt exclaimed to the newcomer, “I may consider your admission, shall you defeat one of my students.”

The fencer in red strode forward, “Which one of you is the best combatant?” the fencer demanded. The crowd parted, and Adrien found himself alone in the center. He glanced towards Marinette, who gave him an awkward thumbs up.

D’Argencourt gestured to the primary fencing strip, “Adrien, please give our visitor a lesson in chivalry.”

He halfway suspected D’Argencourt had entirely forgotten he wasn’t at his best, but, if everyone thought he was the best here, who was he to disappoint? He nodded, “Yes sir.”

-

Chloé could care less about fencing. It’s all sweaty and involves clashing and clanging metal together. But, it's her Adrien's sport, and Sabrina seemed to think it was fun too. Least she could do was watch in support. With Marinette’s incessant questions and the answers other students were giving, Chloé could somewhat follow the bout. Really, who did this random red rouge think they were? Trying to take her Adrikin’s place as the best fencer in the Academy? 

“Uhhh… Abstention!”  D’Argencourt called. The fencers returned to their starting line.

Adrien pulled his helmet up to breathe, and looked up at the fencer in red, brows furrowed in determination. He dropped the helmet back over his face. 

“Tired yet?” The fencer taunted.

“Just getting started,” Adrien called back, straightening his stance.

“... Shall I request we do this the old fashioned way then?” they turned to D’Argencourt, “We'll be much more at ease without the machine.”

D’Argencourt considered it, “Adrien?”

He smiled behind his helmet, “Fine with me.”

Chloé focused on each move and clash and blow. Freed of their attachments, the fencers moved with agility and panache. Jumping, spinning, clashing. Some boring person muttered “Aren’t they supposed to stay on the strip?” The fencers raced up the stairwell and Chloé made her way to the front to watch them closely. Chloé didn’t pay much attention to the fact that Marinette was the only other person who had kept up with the fight. Nor did she pay attention to the fact that Sabrina had been clearing her path among the crowd before.

The fencer would lunge, Adrien would parry. Adrien feinted a step and pulled back, drawing them in, and the fencer would leap out of the way of his counterattack. Blades clashed and clamored. Adrien knocked the fencer through the doors of the Library. Marinette stood in front of the opened doors as the pair fought, watching intently.

“Out of my way,” Chloé huffed, shoving Marinette to take her spot in watching the pair fight. She yelped as a book cart was sent her way and she narrowly jumped out of the way, “Hey!”

Neither fencers paid any attention. (Which, ouch, really? Is she not important enough here?) 

“Let’s finish this!” the red-clad fencer announced, and they both lunged. Chloé blinked and both sabers were being pulled away from the other fencer’s chest. 

The fencers turned to look at Chloé. “Who got the first hit?!” The figure in red  demanded, “Who?”

Adrien pulled off his helmet and rubbed the spot he’d been hit, grimacing slightly.

“Er…” Chloé frowned and the group finally caught up to them, whispering curiosities. “Adrien?” 

“Wait, you’re not even one of my students….” D’Argencourt noted, “Are you sure?”

Chloé huffed, tilting her head up, "Of course! And I'm sure my father, the Mayor, would love to explain to you why I’m right~” she side stepped closer and lowered her voice, “You already lost the election to him, do you really wanna lose your job as well?"

Adrien frowned. “Actually, I think they touched me first,” Adrien said, turning to D’Argencourt.

“Er- Referee has the last word!” D’Argencourt exclaimed, “This victory is… certainly an honor to the D’Argencourt Academy!” He chuckled nervously as Chloé grinned.

Adrien frowned and watched as the fencer walked away and thrust their saber into the ground. “I’m going to offer them a decisive match,” he said, and raced after them. 

“Hey! Adriekins, why are you following them? You won!” Chloé sighed and followed him, rolling her eyes. 

Adrien pulled the fencer’s sword from the ground and ran towards the fencer’s car. “Wait! Your saber!” 

Chloé raced down the entrance, “Come on Adrikins, you won, what’s this...” she halted as she looked up. The red clad fencer removed their helmet and…well she was unfairly pretty. Dark hair and dark eyes and a dusting of freckles like stardust on her cheeks... “About…”

Adrien continued forward anyway, “Let’s do a, er, decisive match?” Adrien offered, smiling.

“Like she said-” The fencer said, gesturing to Chloé, “You won. There’s no such thing as second chances in my family. Goodbye.” She turned and got into the car. 

“Hey! What’s your…” The car door slammed and the car drove off. “...name.” He frowned and glanced down at the red saber. 

Chloé shook him. “Who was that? I must know immediately.”

He sighed, watching the car retreat into the distance. “Well… I saw her ring, it reminded me of something... Give me a second-” He grabbed his phone and looked up the imagery of the ring.

-

“Oh curse the passage of time,” D’Argencourt grumbled, “We will finish the last rounds of candidate selection next Thursday. Er, you four-” He pointed at Marinette, Sabrina, and two other students, “You’re in for the last rounds. Everyone else, farewell, no need to return,” he waved the group of prospective students away and the group dispersed. 

Sabrina was suddenly next to Marinette. Marinette yelped as she noticed the other teen so close. “You’re in the last bracket! That’s awesome!”

Marinette raised a brow, “Uh… Thank you. Congrats to you too.” 

They smiled, “Yeah! I’m super excited!” she bounced in place, “I can’t wait to master the blade.” 

Somewhere outside, Chloé screamed.

Sabrina gasped, “Chloé! I’ve gotta check on her!” Sabrina ran off, brow furrowed in determination. 

Marinette frowned and ran off in another direction, finding somewhere to transform. Chloé’s screams usually meant akumas.

-

“Adrien!” Chloé cried out as the akumatized villain pointed their sword at him. Adrien was on the ground, holding the red handled saber against Riposete’s sword.

“I’m taking you up on your offer for a decisive match!” Riposte exclaimed.

Adrien strained against the sword. He gave up and rolled out from under her. “I can’t fight you like this!”

“Fight!” she demanded with another slash. Féline Sombre tumbled in and knocked the sword away with her staff. 

“Hey now, play nice,” Féline said, shifting to get in front of Adrien. 

“I’m not playing,” Riposte said, “I will show you all just who the greater swordsman is!” 

Adrien groaned and scrambled to a stand, moving through a blur of dots in his vision, only to run into someone. Strong hands balanced him. “Careful,” Ladybug said.

“She’s after my Adrikins!” Chloé explained to Ladybug, hiding behind a pillar, “You need to protect him!”

“I can protect my-” his body decided this was a perfect time to betray him. He stumbled and coughed. ...Probably too much exertion today.

Riposte knocked Féline Sombre back, and rushed towards Adrien and Ladybug. Ladybug wrapped her yoyo around Riposete’s sword and yanked. Riposete’s arm was pulled away from Adrien, but the yoyo slipped off.

“It’s fused to her hand?” Ladybug exclaimed.

Féline Sombre got back up and vaulted towards Adrien and Ladybug. 

“I guess you can’t dis-arm her!" Féline Sombre chuckled awkwardly. 

"Puns? Seriously?" Ladybug shook her head, “Féline, get Adrien somewhere safe, I'll keep her occupied.” 

"Can do Bug, come on Adrien," Féline grabbed him around the waist and he yelped as they extended their staff into the air and the ground twirled away from him without his input.

Riposte growled under her breath and sliced a pillar and kicked it towards Ladybug. She stumbled back and lassoed the pillar before it could fall into her. Riposte was already bounding off after Féline Sombre. Ladybug sighed and hooked her yoyo on a nearby chimney to follow after.

"I really need somebody who's better at distraction than I am."

-

Féline Sombre landed on a bridge, gently dropping Adrien. She looked around, "Okay, okay, we're probably far enough to pause and make a plan of action. If she's looking to fight you then hiding might be your best bet, but that could become dangerous if she finds you and you're somewhere you can't escape-"

"No, hiding is great!" Adrien grinned awkwardly, already stepping away. He glanced around for places to transform. "I can do that! I'll just-"

Riposte landed just a few feet away from them before Adrien could run away. "Stand and fight, you coward!"

"I’m not going to fight you like this!” Adrien protested, “You're not yourself! What's the honor in this?"

Riposte lunged forward and he ducked, rolling out of the way. Féline Sombre twirled on their staff and kicked Riposte away. 

Riposte growled and slashed the lampposts. Féline Sombre’s eyes widened as the old metal lamps crashed and caged her against the edge of the bridge. They strained against the metal, “Adrien look out!”

Riposte immediately turned to him. She advanced quickly and he scrambled back, automatically shifting into a fencing form, red handled blade in hand. Riposte slashed at his feet, forcing him to leap up onto the edge of the bridge. 

Féline Sombre called for their cataclysm. Riposte prepared to strike at him. Féline wouldn’t be able to interfere fast enough. He knew it. 

-

“If you really are Paon Lilas, transform, Adrien,” Hawkmoth muttered under his breath, brows furrowed in concern. Because if he didn’t, what did that mean? His son was in danger and he put him there. Does he have to hope for yet another failure? Is it a failure if his son is safe? He practically growled under his breath, pushing such things out of his mind. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

-

Adrien closed his eyes. He jumped. Riposte’s sword crashed on brick. Wind whipped around him. He held his breath and splashed into the water below. 

It was cold. His lungs were already protesting. He opened his eyes and spotted a red figure dive in after him. Ladybug’s arm wrapped around him, securing him as she pulled him up and secured her yoyo to land. He hacked on coughs as soon as they breached the water.

Ladybug dropped him on the ground and he groaned.

"You're kinda reckless, aren't you?" Ladybug noted with some sort of half smile on her face.

His lungs hated him. He wheezed with a cough, "I trusted Féline Sombre not to leave me."

Ladybug frowned at him briefly. She glanced towards the bridge as Riposte looked down at the waters below. Féline Sombre gave Ladybug the quickest of a wave, and she ran out of sight, presumably to detransform.

"Come on," Ladybug said. She picked him up (really these superheroes have got to stop doing that, it's making his vision blur) and bounded away.

"What about Féline Sombre?" Adrien exclaimed, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on Ladybug’s shoulders to keep the dizziness from overwhelming him.

"They'll be back, we need you somewhere safe before Riposte figures out you're not in the water." Ladybug landed and gently put him on the ground. He looked around, finding she had brought them to a park. 

He coughed more, shaking from the wind-whipped, damp, cold settling in his bones. Ladybug frowned at him again strangely. 

"How are you doing? ...You seem ill."

He forced a smile, "Just the after effects of my little dive I think. I'll be fine."

Her expression changed strangely yet again and she nodded, “Okay…” she looked around and nodded to herself, “here,” she grabbed Adrien’s hand and tugged him towards a statue, “Hide behind here. I’ll uh, come get you when we deakumatize Riposte.” 

Adrien nodded and watched as Ladybug dashed to the edges of the park, activating the phone in her yoyo. “Duusu,” he whispered, “we should help them-”

“You’re sick,” Duusu said, coming up and pushing against his cheek, “I’m sure Ladybug and Féline Sombre can handle it from here, right?”

Adrien frowned, glancing back towards where Ladybug was talking to Féline Sombre on the phone. “Maybe…” he muttered, “but it’s also the easiest way to get Adrien out of the way while still doing something, right?”

“You’re not in the way,” Duusu whispered.

Adrien grumbled anxiously, watching from behind the statue.

-

“She’s coming your way, bye Bug!” Féline Sombre exclaimed as they ended the call.

“Bye Kitty,” Ladybug searched for the silvery akuma with a frown. “Hm, better safe than sorry- Lucky Charm!” Ladybug called. The charm produced a metal wireframe chair. She tilted her head. “A...chair. Am I supposed to sit around for Riposte to come attack Adrien?”

Riposte dove in, sword aimed, and Ladybug yelped as she tumbled out of the way. 

“Where did you hide him?” Riposte demanded, flourishing her weapon. 

“You think I’d tell you?” Ladybug scoffed, briefly glancing to where Féline Sombre was inching forward. Hidden. Waiting for an opening. “This is just between us. Unless you’re scared to test your mettle against me?”

Riposte huffed, turning her full attention to Ladybug, “Oh? I’ll defeat you swiftly and then I’ll take your miraculous!” Riposte lunged and Ladybug twirled to block with the chair, gasping as she noticed the sword slip between the backrest supports. Riposte was too fast however, and the sword slipped back out before she could do anything about it. 

Féline Sombre vaulted in on her staff and kicked Riposte from behind, into the park fence. They shifted into a fencing stance, staff aimed like a sword, “You wanted some fencing, right?”

“Who told you all these puns?” Ladybug frowned, glancing at her redheaded partner.

“Would you be mad if I said all the puns is because I’m kinda missing Paon Lilas’s jokes?”

Ladybug made a face, “What? No, but-”

“Your face says otherwise!” Féline Sombre exclaimed, chuckling.

“Oh hush!” Riposte exclaimed as she lunged towards Féline. Féline Sombre used her staff to block the sword and shifted to get behind her.

“So Bug, what’s our plan?” Féline asked, extending her staff to hit Riposte again. They twirled out of the way of the counterattack.

“The sword!” Ladybug said, “That’s got to be where the akuma is. But she’s too fast!”

Adrien frowned, “I- I can’t just watch. Duusu-” he was caught off by a cough.

Riposte huffed and leaped out from the middle of Ladybug and Féline Sombre, skidding backwards. She turned her head to the sound of a cough. “Of course,” she sent a slash through the statue.

Ladybug gasped, “Adrien!”

Adrien dropped to the ground, then leaped up over the broken base of the statue. He tightened his grip on the fencing sword, frowning towards Riposte. “You want a fight? Fine. Let’s fight.”

Riposte grinned, “Finally.” She lunged and he doubled back, towards Ladybug and Féline Sombre.

Ladybug looked between the fighters and Féline Sombre and ran forward to meet them, smiling. “Féline, I’m gonna need your ribbon soon.” Adrien continued to retreat and block.

The cat hero tilted their head briefly but pulled the ribbon off. Féline Sombre moved in around Riposte’s other side. 

With the heroes in the right positions, Adrien drew in another attack from Riposte and called, “Ready?!” He twirled, switching positions with Ladybug. Féline Sombre came around with the ribbon and secured the sword into the metal bars of the chair’s backrest. They ran and tugged backwards to keep it secure as Riposte struggled in the snare.

“Prêt, Allez!” Adrien and Ladybug announced as they both used their combined weight to snap the sword trapped in the chair’s back.

Ladybug grabbed the back of the chair as Adrien fell into the seat, keep him from falling with the chair. Adrien blinked, “Huh, handy.”

Ladybug smiled at him as she grabbed his arms and pulled him up to a stand.

He looked up and down at her and barely flickered a smile at her. He turned towards Riposte with a frown.

“Wow, impressive fencing,” Féline said.

He shrugged, “I’ve been in fencing since I was really young.” 

Ladybug caught and purified the butterfly. “Bye bye little butterfly...” She grabbed the Lucky Charm, frowning towards Adrien, “You didn’t have to do that. You put yourself in danger.”

“What happened?” Kagami muttered, looking up in confusion.

Adrien frowned and glanced down at the ground before shaking his head, ignoring Ladybug in favor of the fencer. Ladybug sighed and called for her miracle cure.

He leaned down to the fencer and offered a hand. “You were akumatized,” he said softly, “It’s… a… whole thing. It’s fine now though.”

Ladybug walked over to Féline Sombre. They high-fived and smiled at each other.

“Hey, Adrien,” Ladybug said, “...take care of yourself…” she smiled, and waved as her miraculous beeped, “Bug out!” 

Féline Sombre waved goodbye to Ladybug and turned towards the two civilians, “Do either of you need a lift home?”

“I have a chauffeur,” Kagami said.

“Same,” Adrien chuckled awkwardly.

Féline shrugged, “Alright! In that case, I should probably head out too. See you later!” She vaulted away and Adrien turned back to Kagami.

“So…” Adrien muttered.

“Listen I-” she sighed and glanced at the ground.

“I’m sorry” both teens said. 

Adrien laughed and offered the saber, “Here’s your saber back… Maybe, uh, we could do a proper rematch?”

She shook her head, pushing it back towards him. “No, I lost. Keep it.”

“Chloé really doesn’t know anything about fencing. I personally think it was your point. Besides… red’s not really my color.”

“She certainly acted like she knew.”

“She can be… enthusiastic, she just… she means well, just goes about things wrong.” Adrien sighed and shrugged, “but I… I think- If you want, we could uh, be friends?”

She looked almost shocked, “You… You want to be my friend?”

“Of course! I- Here, let’s start over-” Adrien huffed a smile and offered his hand, “My name’s Adrien. What’s yours?”

She paused, glancing between his face and his hand. She took the offered hand and shook it. “Kagami.”

“Nice to meet you, Kagami.”

“...Yeah. Nice to meet you too, er, Adrien,” she smirked, “You better get ready for that decisive match.”

He laughed, “Oh, I will.”

-

Fencing swords clashed. One fencer lunged, and the other spun and hit. The buzzer sounded.

“Point!” D’Argencourt called, “Sabrina Raincomprix, welcome to the academy!”

Sabrina pulled up her mask and smiled at Marinette as she disconnected herself from the buzzer cord. Marinette raised her mask up with a sigh. They saluted with their sword and Marinette did the same.

“Good game,” Marinette muttered with a sigh, preparing for whatever mocking she would receive.

“You did awesome! It was a close game, you almost had me there."

Marinette raised a brow. "Uh. Thanks?"

Sabrina sighed, "It's really too bad there's only two spots, I was looking forward to sparring more with you. Next time there's an open spot you should definitely try again."

"I… you really think so? Chloé would've hated seeing me outside class on a weekly basis."

"I- I’m not Chloé’s clone, I... don’t hate you. I’m...sorry if I’ve ever made it seem like that," they sighed, and offered a hand, "Seriously. Good game, Marinette."

She smiled awkwardly and accepted the handshake. "Same to you, Sabrina."

Marinette walked into the equipment room and Tiki zipped out.

"You did great, even if you didn't get in. You can always practice on your own or get Adrien to help again!" Tiki cheered.

Marinette sighed and nodded, "True. ...I think that fencer- Kagami? and Sabrina wanted it more anyway. I wouldn't change a thing… and… Sabrina was weirdly nice."

"Without Chloé around she seems much more open."

"Yeah, I guess. ...Actually- huh. I guess they've never exactly been outright antagonistic… I guess I just… associate her with Chloé that much…" Marinette shook her head, "Weird."

[cellophanejpeg]

calamitous love and insurmountable grief - part ii

Pairing: Ezra x female!reader

a/n: this has no summary, but trust me, okay? if you read part one then you’re good!!

warnings:  angst, sexual themes (+18), miscarriage mentions, nightmares, kisses (is that a warning?), this is all over the place, plot????? we don’t have one just fluff and hurt/comfort, goodbye

word count: 3.0k

part i | masterlist

...

What wakes you in the dead of night isn't the summer heat or the chill night breeze. It isn't the agonizing feeling of sweat dripping down your back, making your nightgown sticky against your skin like most summer nights. What wakes you is the whimper Ezra lets out in his sleep. What wakes you are the cries and whimpers as the calls for your name in a desperate voice. When you look at him, moonlight brightening his face, he's covered in a cold sweat, a crease between his brows, pale skin and an tormenting expression on his face.

“Hey”, you mumble gently, a hand reaching to cup his cheek, “Ez, wake up.”

He shudders in his sleep, the frown on his forehead deepening.

“You're okay”, you whisper. He mumbles your name, “I'm right here, my moon and stars. I'm right beside you.”

When he snaps his eyes open, you see the pain in them for a split of a second before grief takes over them. His hand immediately finds your waist as he pulls you closer, burying his face on your chest. The sobs shake your body as well as his when he cries, tears wetting your nightgown, but you don't mind. You really don’t.

“Shh, you're okay", you coo at him, scratching his scalp slightly, “It’s over now, it was just a dream. You're here with me.”

Ezra clutches your clothes tightly, searching for support, something that will always keep him in the present. It's you he searches every time. He spends several minutes weeping on you, holding your warm body close to him. When his sobs turn into silent tears, you still hold him like your life depends on it. A few moments later, he pulls away, eyes red and watery, face scrunched in sadness.

“Forgive me, Moonlight,” his voice is rough as he says, “I must look like a child.”

You smile at him, “Don't apologize. You're no child.”

He closes his eyes, shaking his head, “I feel like one. Having terrible nightmares just to wake up and cry on the breast of a woman.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips, but his expression remains the same. You know he wants to talk about it, he does every night. And every night, it's the same dream.

“The usual?” You ask hesitantly, afraid he’ll crumble again.

“Yes,” He breathes, “But– But this time I– I couldn’t– I didn’t return and–” You see tears watering his eyes once more. His voice breaks when he speaks, weak and tired, “Moonlight, please forgive me for leaving, I– I shouldn't have... I'm so sorry.”

“Ezra,” you call him softly, “You're already forgiven.” You grab his hands and press your lips on his knuckles, “There's no remorse. There never was.”

He looks at you with a frown between his brows and let's a breath escape his lips, “But… If I hadn't–”

“No what ifs.” You interrupt him, knowing where this conversation is going, “It would have happened if you stayed too.”

“How can you know that?”

“How can you not?” You smile, “Ez, everything happens the way it's supposed to happen. No use to keep thinking about different outcomes, right? You're here now and that's all that matters to me.”

Ezra blames himself for your miscarriage, claiming that if he had stayed, if he hadn’t left to the Green Moon, he would’ve taken care of you and you wouldn’t have lost his child. Despite assuring him you didn’t think he was to blame for it and telling him he couldn’t possibly know what was going to happen, sometimes you still catch him by the kid’s grave. Sometimes he just stands there, staring at the flowers and the rocks and the little cross you put up there. Sometimes he’s in silence, sometimes you hear him mumbling incoherently. Apologizing to his son. Either way, you know he’s still grieving. Somehow, so are you.

The decision of not having any more children came from you, even though you know he wanted to try again. He mentioned the night he came back, but you told him you didn’t want it. Truth be told, you’re scared. You’re scared of losing a child again, and you’re scared of having one. If it happens, it happens, but it’s not in your plans. Ezra on the other hand… Sometimes you wonder if you’re too much of a coward, or if you’re too cruel to your boyfriend. Ezra always makes sure you know the decision is yours, but seeing him blaming himself makes you feel a little guilty.

“What would I do without you, Stardust?” He whispers, nestling himself against your neck like a stray cat experiencing affection for the first time.

“You’d be lost.” You tease, feeling his smile on your skin, “Go back to sleep, my moon and stars. I'll be right here.”

Despite the hot summer night, you both fall asleep in each other’s arms, not minding the heat and the sweat on your bodies.

…

Before Cee left to pursue her writer career, she asked how you and Ezra met. You remember that cold night, she was helping you to make the soup you were preparing for dinner. Ezra was cutting some bread to make toast and laughed when the question was voiced.

“Just like you, Little Bird,” he said, “this one tried to kill me.”

“Hey!” You exclaim, but smile at his reply, “That’s not how I remember it.”

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows and nodded so you would tell the story.

“Alright, yes, I tried to kill him.” You admit as you looked back at Cee, “But to be fair, it was only after shit hit the fan.” A shrug of a shoulder made her laugh softly, encouraging you to keep telling her the tale, “I was recruited as an engineer to an expedition to a godforsaken planet, along with several miners–”

“Prospectors.” Ezra interrupted you.

“Prospectors.” You repeated, rolling your eyes, but mouthed the word ‘miners’ to Cee, making her smile as she leaned on the counter, “Anyway, I was told I was hired as an emergency mechanic, as in someone to fix the drop pod if something went wrong with it. So I didn’t have to do much except keep an eye on it. The trip was fairly okay in the first few days. But you know how men and their greed are. Someone” You looked back at Ezra, giving him a knowing look, “found a whole mine of Akagartite - a very rare mineral at the time - and kept it a secret and then someone else found out about it and then words flew and throwers were drawn and people were killed, and I had to run. As the only woman at the camp, I had to protect myself. So I hid in the woods for days, until he found me and immediately pulled his knife out.”

“Only because you pulled yours first!” He argued, laughing at your offended tone.

“I was scared!” You argued harder as he approached you, adoring eyes set on you.

“Yeah, you were.” His voice was softer now, his hand searched yours to pull it towards him and press his lips against the back of it, “I never did you any harm, as I promised.”

You smiled at him, ready to give him another comeback, but Cee spoke first. She was quiet as you told the story, deep in her own thoughts.

“Wait, so you’re not a prospector?”

“I was for a moment. Ez taught me everything I know, but in the end I’m just a mechanical engineer.”

She nodded, seeming to think for a minute, but didn’t ask further. At the time, you had shrugged it off, but a few days later, she came to you, showing an ad on her datapad.

“I just bought this,” she told you, “Can you fix it?”

You looked at it and then back at her. A moment of silence hung in the air until you realized what she meant.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “It could take a while, but… yeah, I can.”

When Cee was accepted to study in one of the best universities on the planet of Argo, you beamed with happiness for her. You still remember the night she told you about it, reluctant to tell Ezra, reluctant to leave him. To leave you both. But he laughed in joy when she told him, hugged her tight, telling her he knew she would go far.

The day she left, your heart clenched with sadness at the look they shared. It was after you hugged her tight, begging for her to visit when she could. Ezra hugged her as well, although their hug lasted longer, and they looked at each other as if they were sharing an inside joke. After that, she gave you a knowing look, which you returned with a nod.

You would keep your promise.

…

Ezra finds you sitting at the kitchen table when he returns from a grocery shop run one evening. Something is wrapped in a silk fabric, but he only looks at your concerned face as he approaches you carefully.

“Moonlight?” He calls you by the nickname he gave you so long ago, “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate. Admitting it to yourself is something. But to him? Harder than you thought.

“I haven’t been honest with you,” you finally whisper, voice full of reluctancy. You wait for him to put the groceries on the counter and sit across you to continue, “I, uh… I know I said I didn’t want to try for another baby, but… I-I– The truth is that I– I’m just scared…” Tears start to roll down your cheeks, “I'm scared of losing it and– I'm scared of having it. And I– I know how much you want a child, don't deny it. I'm sorry, Ezra, I'm sorry I'm a coward and I'm– I'm sorry for not giving you what you want.”

Ezra immediately stands up and falls to his knees, taking your hand in his with a strong grip, “My moonlight, you don't have to apologize–”

“But I do,” you argue, “You’ve been through hell and back only to come home to a coward woman who's afraid of having a fucking child.”

At that, he lets go of your hand and cups the side of your neck firmly, standing up to stay at your eye level.

“Listen to me, stardust,” he says, firmly, “You are the bravest woman I’ve ever met. And I know this because I know you better than anyone else. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Ezra touches his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and letting a shaky breath out, “And if you’re not ready, my moonlight, I will wait. I will wait months and years for the day you realize you’re not scared anymore.”

“And what if that day never comes?” The tremble in your voice lets him know you’re still crying.

“If it never comes, I will still be the happiest man in the universe.” He pulls away, smiling at you, “For I’ll always have you.”

At his words, your heart warms and all of fears are dissolved as you press your lips against his, the warmth of his embrace comforting you, giving you a familiar sensation only Ezra gives. You both stay like that for a moment before you let out a deep sigh, feeling lighter with your confession.

“I have something for you,” you say, gently backing away from him, and pushing the package towards him as he sits beside you.

Ezra releases your hand and carefully pulls at the fabric, revealing a bionic arm. His eyes widen at what he sees, the orbs dancing over the arm as if registering every detail of it in his memory. The arm is a dark grey, colored yellow on its knuckles. It doesn't have a strap to go around his shoulder, so he assumes it's one of those who have to fit perfectly to work.

“I’ve been working on it for quite some time and I-I wanted it to be a surprise, but–” you pause to breathe, watching his expression as he takes the arm and tests its weight on his hand, “We-we need to test it and–”

“How long have you been–” He breathes out and then looks at you, admiration all over on his face.

You hesitate, “Since before Cee left. She was the one who bought it, actually, in an online junkyard. She… She made me promise I’d fix it after she’d leave for school.”

“Moonlight, I–” Ezra tries to speak, but chokes on the lump that forms in his throat, his eyes watering.

Cee must've felt as guilty as him, after all, she was the one who shot him, which led to him losing his arm. But Ezra didn't blame her. He knew she was just a kid in the Green, trying to do her best to protect herself. He was just unfortunate to get in her way. Seeing the bionic arm and thinking about how much money the girl must have spent on it makes his heart warm, filled with tenderness.

Ezra breathes, wipes his eyes with the back of his hand as you stand up and approach him.

“Here.” You pull the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing his stump. Before you touch him further, you lean in and press a kiss on his cheek, “May I?”

He laughs softly, through tears, and nods. Watching you take the arm and observe it, looking for the on button, he smiles softly. A beautiful feeling grows inside his chest, filled with endearment and devotion for you. He watches as you frown slightly at the bionic arm, biting your lower lip, like you do when you're focused on something. Ezra loves you so much, sometimes he wonders how a man like him found someone like you. Even after everything you've been through, you never stopped loving him. Even after everything he's done, his worst sins confessed to you, you still love him with all your heart and soul.

“I tried my best to fix it,” you mumble, turning the arm on with a smile, “but I want to see if it'll fit on you.”

You fidget with the arm and try your best to fit it on his stump, your nervous fingers trembling a little as you slide it on him. The bionic arm lights to life and immediately you see its fingers move; the arm fits perfectly on Ezra, like it was meant to be.

“Moonlight–” Ezra says, moving the arm like it's his own, bending the elbow, wiggling the fingers, doing each and every movement he can.

“How do you feel?” 

“Strange…” He says, standing up and taking a look at himself through the living room mirror. The arm moves as he does like it was always there, like he never lost his own arm, “I can feel it… It’s like it’s a part of me.”

A smile splits your features as you watch him move around, testing it. Ezra starts touching things with it, taking the decorations from the room and holding it in the air, testing their weight and rubbing the robotic thumb over it. He smiles, laughing through unshed tears, his white teeth showing all the time.

You love that smile. Your heart warms with the sight and you can’t help to think Cee hit the bullseye, right on spot. You don't know how, but she knew exactly which size and kind of bionic arm to buy. Which reminds you that you have to send her a message, telling her plan was successful.

“Stardust.” Ezra’s beautiful voice interrupts your thoughts as he approaches you, “I think this might be the best thing that’s happened since I came back to you. You have my eternal gratitude.” He raises his bionic arm and hesitates to touch your cheek, but you encourage him with a nod. When you feel the fingertips on your skin, shivers run down your spine and you tremble a bit, laughing softly.

“It was all Cee.” Your voice is nothing but a whisper.

“But it was you as well,” he murmurs, looking at you through hooded eyes. You know that look very well. He hooks the hand on the back of your neck and pulls you closer, pressing his lips on yours and cupping your other cheek with his other hand.

Closing your eyes, you sigh on his lips, melting into his touch. Ezra starts walking you to the nearest surface, deepening the kiss and moaning on your mouth. When your lower back touches the dinner table, he helps you to sit on it, pulling at the hem of your dress until it’s bunched up on the apex of your tights.

“Ezra…” You whimper when he starts trailing open mouthed kisses on your jawline and neck, his – now – hands squeezing the flesh of your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises in the morning, but you don’t care. Not when he’s pressing himself against you, making that delicious friction between your legs and relieving a bit of the heat down there. It’s not enough, of course, so your hands fly to unbuckle his belt, shaking with excitement.

“My moonlight,” Ezra whispers all of a sudden, pulling away for a moment to look into your eyes, “Have I told you how much I love you?”

Affection flourishes in your chest and you give him a soft smile, cupping his cheeks and pressing a delicate kiss on his lips.

“Yes, my moon and stars,” you respond, “But you can tell me again.”

The smile he gives you is so beautiful it almost brings tears to your eyes.

“The biggest galaxy in the universe would be microscopic compared to my love for you,” he says softly, rubbing his thumbs on your cheeks, “I'm such a lucky man to have you by my side, sometimes I wonder if I’m dreaming you.”

“You’re not.” You smile at him, “I’m right here, Ezra. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Ezra brings his lips to yours once more, pulling your body even closer to his.

“Me neither, my sweet moonlight,” he mumbles on your skin, “Me neither.”

...

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