#and Roland was doing that shit after beating up and getting beat up by the rest of the Library

[unma]

Underfell Papyrus and Ricardo would be really good friends come to think of it. I ca see it already.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Alternative: Dragon and Kirin Part I

While Dio cooked with Son of Melody I think he’s picked the wrong bias in Le Sserafim.

So I’m here to run it back, this time after He completed Django’ story (because my last Alternative completed derailed his burlesque series, but never the matter.

As previously mentioned Dio is a loud and proud hyper social introvert, who takes no shit or prisoners, and while little Ssamachi was very cute the level of competition and fire that Dio has is not the same. So what’s the only thing that could satisfy a dragon like him? A kirin like Yunjin so without further ado here’s my take on his story.

So here is the story of Roland the invincible.

for transparency this takes place after Son Of Melody, but there will be no spoilers for that story here since its finished but not posted.

The Battle Showcase was today. And Roland and Yunjin were itching to finally prove their mettle—whatever it was.

The House of Life magician—Yunjin, prodigy trained by Sadie Kane, beloved of Ame-no-Uzume, and venerated host of Hathor—versus Roland, the invincible hero who had bested a Fomorian, a Jotun, and a Titan in their own realms. Their reputations were the kind that echoed through war councils and bunkhouse gossip alike. They were living legends—and somehow still never enough for themselves.

Because no matter what they slayed, they couldn’t seem to best each other.

If one downed a Minotaur, the other bagged a Hydra. If one mastered a new spell or combat form, the other came back the next day with something even more absurd and death-defying. The need to validate themselves—prove they were the apex of what a hero should be—drove them to outrageous feats no other camper dared to attempt.

And in that relentless pursuit of greatness, they left everyone else behind. Even among demigods, they were alone. Except for each other. Which sadly led to them only treating the other with contempt.

Roland arrived early at the legionary Country Club. Volunteering to help set up the new Aphrodite statue was supposed to be a quiet favor—a bit of goodwill toward the goddess who had helped turn the tide of the Second Titan War. He wasn’t exactly a romantic, but he respected power. And Aphrodite, when taken seriously, was terrifyingly powerful.

He swiped his all-access card and pushed the door open, eyes on his phone. His thumbs danced across the screen as he scrolled through his playlist. The guitar growl of Miracle by Bad Omens kicked in, heavy and familiar.

Behind him, soft footsteps. Perfumed air.

Yunjin slipped through the door just before it closed, moving with the kind of casual precision only someone trained in both divine grace and military discipline could manage.

“Thanks so much—oh,” she said, her tone souring mid-sentence. “It’s you.”

Roland didn’t look up. “You’re welcome.”

She crossed her arms. “Didn’t realize you were on statue duty.”

Now he glanced up, only to groan aloud. She matched him.

“What are you doing here?” they both asked at once, voices flat and annoyed.

“I came to prep for the Aphrodite statue,” Yunjin said, narrowing her eyes like she expected him to challenge her right to be there.

“Why? Because Sakura asked me,” she added, lifting her chin.

Roland leaned against the wall, arms folded. “Well, Oliver asked me.”

They stared. Not in hostility—but something tangled just beneath it. Not hate. Just… proximity to a fire they didn’t quite understand.

Roland’s eyes flicked away first. Something tightened in his chest and he didn’t like that he couldn’t name it.

“Look,” he said, exhaling through his nose. “Let’s just get through today without any drama. Then we can bash each other’s faces in tomorrow.”

Yunjin blinked, taken aback. A beat passed. “Didn’t peg you for the romantic, respectful type.”

He rolled his eyes. “Rude. But I get it. The vibe don’t exactly scream ‘thoughtful.’”

She smirked. “They scream something.”

“But today,” he continued, adjusting the strap of his bag, “I’d rather not get cursed by a goddess with a thing for poetic justice. Aphrodite—like love—is unpredictable. I’m not picking that fight.”

Yunjin’s smile deepened into something quieter, almost fond. “I always forget you’re actually forward-thinking. Probably because your go-to move is hitting things harder.”

He gave a half-laugh. “I mean… statistically, that works more often than it not.”

They stood there for a moment. Not talking. Not moving. The silence wasn’t awkward—just heavy with something unspoken.

Roland turned toward the lounge’s side counter, where a humble café station buzzed with the faint hum of a demigod-grade espresso machine. It wasn’t much—just a corner table with a few enchanted kettles, a charmed grinder, and a set of self-cleaning mugs—but it was a quiet ritual spot for volunteers.

“Come on,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll make you a coffee. Peace offering.”

Yunjin hesitated, lips parting like she had something to protest, then pressed them together. That strange bloom in her chest—warm and traitorous—stirred again. She cleared her throat and followed, just a step behind.

Roland moved with a casual kind of grace, weaving between stools and counters with practiced ease. His hands, usually busy wielding steel or summoning raw magic, moved surprisingly gently now—grinding beans, measuring just right, heating milk to an exact warmth. Before she could ask, he was already prepping her drink.

Yunjin blinked. “Why aren’t you making yourself one?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Roland replied, not looking up as he stirred.

She looked scandalized. “Then why are you making me one?”

“Because you drink it,” he said simply, glancing up at her like she was the one being weird.

He slid the finished drink across the counter. Not just coffee—her coffee. Creamy, a splash of rose syrup, cinnamon dusted lightly on the foam. Her eyes widened a second time, and this time she didn’t hide it.

“How did you know my order?” she asked, suspicious now, one brow rising like a challenge.

Roland sighed and ran a hand down his face, dragging his palm across his brow as if this whole moment was a little too much effort.

“I have friends who work here,” he said, tone even. “They always talk about the regulars and the wild orders they get. Yours came up a lot. Apparently it’s one of the easier ones to memorize.”

Yunjin blinked, still suspicious but no longer defensive. Her shoulders dropped a fraction. She took a tentative sip—and froze.

It was perfect.

Every note, every ratio—exactly how she liked it. She hated how impressed she was.

“Wait,” Roland said, narrowing his eyes, “Did I mess up?”

Yunjin let out a long breath, half groan, half surrender. “No. It’s perfect,” she muttered, almost like an accusation.

Roland rolled his eyes, smirking faintly. “You’re welcome,” he said dryly, already walking away from the counter.

As he stepped into the open lounge area, one of his spirit dragons shimmered into existence beside him. The creature, normally the size of a falcon, stretched and expanded until it was roughly the shape and size of a futon. Its scales flickered like blackened opal as it curled lazily into a coil. Roland dropped onto its back with a heavy sigh, folding his arms behind his head as if he’d done this a hundred times before.

Yunjin stood at the edge of the room, coffee in hand, watching him lounge like a storm cloud on a silk pillow. She sipped again, annoyed with herself for enjoying it, more annoyed that he was so good at casually disarming her.

And worst of all, she kind of wanted to sit next to him. Yunjin stayed standing for a moment, sipping her drink, letting the silence stretch between them. Roland looked half-asleep, sprawled across his spirit dragon like some grungy mural of divine nonchalance. His boots were still on. Of course they were.

“I’ve been trying to figure you out,” she said suddenly, sitting down on the armrest of a nearby chair, angled toward him.

Roland cracked one eye open. “That sounds like a you problem.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s your zodiac sign?”

His eye closed again. “I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“You don’t have to believe in gravity for it to throw you off a cliff. What’s your sign?”

He groaned. “Aquarius.”

The pause was a mistake.

“Oh my gods, that makes so much sense!” Yunjin perked up like she’d just solved a divine riddle. “You’ve got that whole aloof genius energy, emotionally weird but somehow deeply principled, probably think you’re a misunderstood rebel—but also care too much and then pretend you don’t. Total Aquarius.”

Roland opened both eyes now, scowling up at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed him.

“You’re not even trying to be unpredictable,” she continued, her voice gaining a rhythm like a prophecy. “You’re doing the textbook Aquarius thing where you act like you’re above all this, but you’re secretly the most chaotic romantic of them all. That’s why you don’t ‘believe in astrology.’ Because admitting it’s right would ruin your brand.”

“I don’t have a brand,” Roland muttered.

“You absolutely have a brand,” Yunjin fired back, sipping her coffee with mock arrogance. “Moody war god energy meets tortured art school senior. You’re like… if a thrift store and a battlefield had a baby.”

“Okay, that’s just rude,” he said, not even bothering to lift his head.

“But accurate.”

He gave her a long side glance, that little twitch in his jaw betraying how close he was to arguing. Then he sighed. Deeply. Sagging back against his dragon like giving in was physically painful.

“You know what?” he said, eyes closing again. “Sure. Whatever. Aquarius. Stars. Chaos. Let’s just get it all out now before you bring up moon signs.”

Yunjin gasped. “Wait—do you know your moon sign?”

“No.”

“You totally do. That was so specific. That’s such an Aquarius moon denial response—”

Roland let out another groan and tossed an arm over his eyes. The dragon beneath him gave a low, amused rumble like it was enjoying the drama.

Yunjin leaned back, smug and satisfied, sipping the last of her drink. There was a weird sort of peace in the air now—exasperated, ridiculous, and weirdly warm.

She glanced at him again, wondering if he knew she was only teasing because she kind of liked the way his scowl softened when he gave up the fight.

After a beat of silence, Roland dropped his arm from his eyes just enough to peek at her.

“So,” he drawled, “Hathor’s favorite host, huh?”

Yunjin blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “What about it?”

“Nothing,” he said, clearly meaning something. “Just… must be exhausting. Living up to the expectations of a literal goddess of beauty, love, and like, thirty different fertility symbols.”

Yunjin sat up straighter, her expression flickering between annoyance and amusement. “Wow. Look at you using context clues. I’m impressed.”

Roland smirked. “I mean, it’s not like she picked someone subtle. You’re practically a walking sonnet with glitter.”

“And you’re a walking monster truck commercial with daddy issues.”

That earned a sharp laugh from him—low, surprised, and begrudgingly genuine.

Yunjin leaned forward a bit, eyes locked on his. “But sure, yeah. There’s pressure. Everyone wants me to be perfect all the time. Smile just right, make peace, radiate grace. You think that’s easy? You think I like playing diplomat between gods with control issues?”

“Do you want me to say no?” he asked.

“I want you to say something real,” she snapped, but her tone was more daring than cruel. “Not just some smirk or a punch or another clever dodge.”

He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Okay. Fine. You want real?”

She raised her brows, waiting.

He shrugged. “I hit things because it’s easier than asking why I wasn’t enough the first time around.”

The air shifted—still charged, but heavier now. Not sad, exactly. Just true.

Yunjin didn’t blink. “And I charm rooms full of gods and monsters because if I’m not exceptional, I’m invisible.”

They stared at each other.

Somewhere behind them, the espresso machine let out a hiss of steam. Neither of them moved.

Then Roland tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly in mock challenge. “So what—you psychoanalyze me and believe in astrology? That’s dangerous.”

Yunjin smirked. “I multitask.”

“I see that,” he said, tone dry. “I guess Your love language is arguing, huh?”

“Only with people worth the breath.”

They held each other’s gaze a moment longer, and it was impossible to tell if they were about to start bickering again or kiss—or maybe both. The tension was almost musical, strung tight between them like the silence before a fight or the beat before a confession.

Roland looked away first, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, “Total Aquarius behavior.”

Yunjin grinned into her cup, smugly satisfied. But as her eyes wandered back to Roland, the teasing softened. She watched the way he had sunk into his spirit dragon’s body like it was second nature—legs sprawled, one hand tucked behind his head, the other resting gently against the dragon’s shimmering flank. There was a comfort there, a familiarity, like he’d grown into the creature’s rhythms over time.

“Your dragons,” she said, tipping her head thoughtfully. “They were a gift from Hades, right?”

Roland shook his head, eyes still half-lidded. “Not exactly. I got them after a quest. Had to travel through a bunch of underworlds—Greek, Egyptian, even one of the Celtic ones—to collect offerings for Persephone: a Stygian lotus, an Other Side poppy, and a bunch of soul-bound blossoms most people don’t even believe exist.”

Yunjin blinked. “Sounds brutal.”

“It was,” he said, a bit too casually. “I lost my signature weapon halfway through. Came out of it with cracked ribs and a broken arm.”

Yunjin frowned, but stayed quiet.

Roland continued, “Persephone took pity on me, I think. She used her magic to merge two lingering spirits I’d encountered during the quest—one was a koi spirit, graceful and curious; the other was a bear spirit, stubborn and loyal. The fusion created Ureni and Teval. Twin aspects of one soul, split between protection and patience.”

He looked down at the dragon beneath him with a small, quiet fondness.

“They’ve been with me ever since.”

“Oh.” Yunjin’s voice was soft now, touched with awe. “So they’re… your family?”

He stiffened just slightly, as if the word startled him. “Yeah,” he said. “They’re not just tools. They’ve kept me alive more times than I can count. Ureni and Teval are as much my home as any cabin or cohort.”

“Which one are you lying on now?” she asked, stepping a bit closer.

“Ureni,” he said. “The bear spirit. He’s the one that naps through battles unless things get serious.”

She nodded, thoughtful. Then, without asking, she set her coffee cup aside and eased herself down on the other side of the dragon. She expected it to feel strange or awkward—but instead, it was… cozy. Ureni’s scaled body was warm and pliant, like sinking into a memory. Comforting in a way she hadn’t expected.

She looked over and found Roland watching her, an eyebrow raised.

“I guess he likes you,” he muttered.

Yunjin gave him a sideways glance. “He’s too soft not to.”

“Still,” Roland said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “stay on your side of Ureni and I’ll stay on mine.”

“No promises,” she murmured, letting her head rest back against the dragon’s side. “Aquarius don’t believe in boundaries.”

Roland groaned, throwing his head back. “I regret everything.”

But he didn’t move away.

Neither did she.

Neither of them moved. Or so they thought

Warmth spread between them—not just from Ureni’s steady, dragon-sized body heat, but from the quiet, shared exhaustion only battle-hardened demigods seemed to understand. Somewhere between snark and softness, silence stretched. Not awkward. Not tense. Just still.

Yunjin’s eyes fluttered shut first. Roland noticed, glanced her way, and smirked. He should’ve said something. Poked her. But the weight of the day—and maybe something else—pressed gently on his chest. His eyes drifted shut too.

Time slipped.

And then—click.

A blinding flash pierced the darkness behind his eyelids.

Roland sat bolt upright. “What the—?”

Yunjin jerked awake with a startled squeak, blinking rapidly, one hand still half-curled around the edge of Roland’s hoodie—which he definitely hadn’t been wearing earlier. Ureni huffed beneath them, clearly unimpressed.

Standing in the doorway were Sakura and Oliver, each holding iced drinks and absolutely beaming.

Oliver, phone still raised, grinned like he’d just summoned photographic proof of Bigfoot. “Awwwwww.”

“Are you kidding me?” Roland groaned, scrubbing his face with one hand.

“You guys are literally spooning,” Sakura said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “On a dragon.”

Yunjin blinked, looked down, and then looked up again, horror blooming across her face. Roland’s arms were wrapped loosely around her waist. His chin had apparently been resting on the top of her head.

“Oh my gods—” she scrambled backward and fell off the dragon with a dull thud, her coffee cup clattering nearby.

Roland sat up straighter, arms awkwardly hovering midair like he wasn’t sure what to do with them now. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Oliver snorted. “It looks like trauma bonding but make it romantic.”

“It’s not—” Yunjin started, brushing her hair out of her face and shooting a glare that could curdle nectar.

Sakura was already sending the photo to someone.

Yunjin hissed, “Do not put that on CampNet!”

“I won’t,” Sakura said sweetly. “But the group chat is gonna eat this up.”

Roland sighed, glaring at Oliver. “You couldn’t have knocked?”

“We did,” Oliver said. “Twice. But you two were cuddled up like a Hallmark special and Ureni wouldn’t let us through. Dragon was guarding your nap like it was sacred.”

“Traitor,” Roland muttered to the spirit dragon, who just blinked lazily and tucked his tail around himself.

Yunjin crossed her arms, cheeks still flushed. “This never happened.”

Oliver grinned. “Sure. Just like how you and Roland ‘don’t like each other.’ Right.”

Yunjin turned to Roland. “Say something.”

Roland, still looking half-asleep and a little betrayed by reality, shrugged. “I said ‘stay on your side.’ You didn’t listen.”

“You could’ve pushed me off!”

“How could I? I was asleep?.”

Yunjin groaned, muttering curses in three languages as she grabbed her drink and stormed off to the hallway. “I hate everything.”

Sakura waved after her. “Love you!”

Roland sighed again and slowly slid off Ureni’s back, dusting off his hoodie.

Oliver patted him on the shoulder. “I give it a week before one of you snaps and confesses.”

Roland didn’t answer—but he did glance toward the hallway Yunjin had fled down, expression unreadable.

Yunjin leaned against the cool marble railing, arms crossed tight over her chest. The mountain breeze nipped at her cheeks, but it didn’t account for the flush burning there. Her jaw was clenched, eyes fixed on the horizon as if sheer force of will could erase the last hour from existence.

Sakura stood beside her, sipping lazily from a cup with obnoxious pink glitter lettering. She wasn’t even trying to hide her grin.

“So…” she began, voice lilting with faux innocence. “You gonna tell me how spooning your favorite nemesis felt, or do I have to pull it from your dreams like a memory spell?”

Yunjin groaned and pressed a palm to her face. “We were asleep. It was an accident.”

“Right. And you accidentally memorized his weapon stats, combat stances, and his go-to battle playlist.”

“That’s called being prepared.”

“It’s called being compatible,” Sakura sing-songed, bumping Yunjin lightly with her hip. “You two are like yin and yang. Chaos and precision. Punch and flourish. Enemies to lovers with extra trauma.”

Yunjin opened her mouth, then closed it again. She didn’t argue, but her silence was telling.

Sakura tilted her head, smile softening. “You’re the only one who talks back to him without flinching. You challenge him. He needs that.”

Yunjin’s voice was quiet, thoughtful. “He’s frustrating. Arrogant. Thinks he’s always right.”

“And maybe you’re into it?”

Yunjin shot her a sharp side-eye. “I will literally summon a crocodile spirit to chew your glitter straw in half.”

“Please do. I’ll just tell it how you melted into his arms like marshmallow fluff on a summer bonfire.”

Yunjin groaned again and covered her face. “We were tired.”

Sakura chuckled and took another sip. “Look, all I’m saying is—maybe it’s time to stop trying to out-alpha each other and just… see what’s there.”

Yunjin peeked through her fingers. “What are you suggesting? That I just walk up and ‘tame’ him like some mythic beast?”

“Exactly.” Sakura’s grin turned impish. “Tame your rival. Or at least make out with him and get it over with.”

Yunjin scowled. “You act like this is simple. Like we’re the same.”

“You are the same. You’re both magic users, you both perform in battle like it’s theater, you both refuse to lose even when it’s stupid to care.”

Yunjin gave her an offended look. “I am not a loser.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Competitive loser, then. Just like him. And the way you two argue—it’s practically flirting with swords.”

Yunjin didn’t deny that.

Sakura leaned closer. “He hasn’t dated anyone. Not once. Girls are intimidated by him, and let’s be real, he doesn’t let anyone close. But you? He lets you in. You match him. Musically, magically, emotionally.”

She paused. “You could take him to a Carti concert and he’d actually go. That’s soulmate stuff.”

Yunjin blinked, momentarily stunned by Sakura’s sincerity.

Sakura nudged her shoulder. “Tame your rival, Yunjin. Or admit you want to.”

At the same time Sakura chats with Yunjin. Oliver and Roland Char over Polished blades glinted beneath glass displays as the light filtered in through the high windows. Roland stood near one, arms crossed, staring at the floor like it might offer answers. His dragon-shaped bracelet glinted faintly on his wrist.

Oliver leaned against the wall beside him, arms loose, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp.

“So,” he said casually. “You and Yunjin finally crossed that line, huh?”

Roland snorted, low and dismissive. “We fell asleep. That’s it.”

“On a dragon. Wrapped around each other like a campfire cuddle pile.”

Roland didn’t look up. “I was exhausted. She happened to be there.”

Oliver raised a brow. “You say that like you don’t gravitate toward her every time she enters a room.”

Roland’s jaw ticked. “It’s not like that.”

“She challenges you,” Oliver said, his voice dipping lower. “Keeps you honest. You don’t perform around her the way you do with everyone else.”

Roland didn’t respond, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Just be careful,” Oliver continued. “It’s easy to confuse rivalry with something more. Adrenaline makes everything feel intense.”

“You think I’m just… projecting?”

“I think she’s the only one who’s ever matched you beat for beat—and that’s addictive. But don’t chase a spark if it burns everything else down.”

Roland looked away, eyes thoughtful now.

Oliver waited a beat, then added with a knowing smirk, “But… if it is real, maybe don’t wait for another three-headed hydra to force you to admit it.”

A faint, reluctant smile tugged at Roland’s lips. “I’ll think about it.”

Yunjin tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, lips pressed together in quiet conflict.

Roland ran his thumb over the edge of his bracelet, the ghost of a smile fading back into something unreadable.

Two souls in separate spaces, mirroring each other—neither willing to say it, both already feeling it.

Somewhere far above, Aphrodite stretched lazily across her chaise lounge and smirked.

The Legionary Country Club courtyard buzzed with last-minute preparations for the Aphrodite statue unveiling. Volunteers milled about under strings of twinkling lights and floating pink lotuses, enchanted to hover like soft-glowing fireflies. Amid the organized chaos, two pairs worked in sync on opposite sides of the plaza.

Near the stage, Roland stood beside Sakura, adjusting the enchanted silk drapes that would pull away at the perfect dramatic moment. He held the fabric steady with a practiced grip while Sakura floated up briefly on a shimmer of magic to secure the top hooks.

“You know,” she called down, “this is the quietest you’ve been all day. Are you actually enjoying this or just plotting a dramatic escape?”

Roland smirked faintly. “Just trying to focus. These enchantments are finicky. One wrong pull and the whole thing explodes into glitter.”

Sakura floated back down and landed lightly beside him, brushing imaginary dust off her leggings. “Wouldn’t be the worst outcome. Glitter bomb from you? Iconic.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t hide his grin. “You just want to see me suffer through sparkles.”

Sakura's eyes crinkled as she smiled mischievously, “You say that like it’s not true.”

They laughed, and for a moment, their rhythm was natural—comfortable. Roland relaxed, cracking a small joke about the statue’s overly romantic design, and Sakura teased him about finally participating in something “fluffy” that didn’t involve smashing monster skulls.

“You’re more of a softie than you let on,” she said.

“Yeah? You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Roland muttered, carefully fluffing the drapery with surprising precision. “Besides, it’s for Aphrodite. If I screw it up, she’ll make me fall in love with a cereal box.”

Sakura burst out laughing. “And it’d probably still treat you better than some of the exes I’ve had.”

Across the courtyard, Yunjin was helping Oliver arrange the floral enchantments and shimmer lanterns surrounding the statue base. Her sleeves were rolled up, fingers glowing with subtle light as she guided the charms into a perfect symmetrical halo.

“Hey,” Oliver said, handing her another bundle of flowers. “You’re being awfully precise. What, is Aphrodite a Virgo?”

Yunjin gasped. “She actually gives major Leo energy. But this whole event? Clearly Virgo-coded. It’s the presentation, the details, the drama.”

Oliver chuckled. “You know I have no idea what that means, right?”

“Don’t worry. You just smiled through three rising sign breakdowns last week. You’re doing great.”

“I live in fear of Mercury retrograde,” Oliver deadpanned.

Yunjin laughed and shook her head, placing another lantern down. “You should. It messes with tech and communication—honestly, I’m not convinced the war with the Giants didn’t start during one.”

Oliver gave her a sideways glance, fond and amused. “You know, for someone who can literally summon a celestial cobra, you’re very concerned about star vibes.”

“Balance,” she said simply. “And vibes matter. Speaking of… how do you feel about Roland?”

Oliver blinked. “That was subtle.”

Yunjin shrugged. “I’m just asking. Friend to friend.”

“I think he’s complicated. Quiet because he thinks too much. Intense because he feels too much. You’re the only one who doesn’t tiptoe around that.”

Yunjin bit her lip. “Do you think that’s… good?”

“I think he needs someone who won’t let him sink into himself. And you,” Oliver tapped her on the forehead, “are a walking sunbeam who also throws metaphysical punches.”

She smiled, slightly embarrassed. “I just don’t want to mess anything up.”

“You won’t,” Oliver said, gently. “Just don’t hold back. Not with him.”

Back at the stage, Sakura elbowed Roland lightly. “Yunjin looks good today.”

Roland grunted noncommittally.

“She’s glowing.”

“She’s holding a lantern.”

Sakura gave him a look. “You’re hopeless.”

“Or patient.”

Sakura snorted. “Same thing in a romantic comedy.”

The two pairs, working in mirrored harmony, didn’t notice how often their glances strayed. Didn’t notice how much they already moved like a unit. But everyone else did.

Wonyoung and Kazuha were facilitating bets as to who would break first.

Kazuha bet that Yunjin would kiss Roland first while Wonyoung asserted that a yelling match would turn flirty at the drop of a hat. Unbeknownst to them there was an intruder in their midst. Aphrodite who watched their "will they won't they" was doing her best to make a "they will"

As Sakura and Oliver finished the last little touches Roland and Yunjin went into the crowd to watch. Yunjin of course was surounded by friends and other demigods, and Heroes, while Roland stood vigilant at the edge. Occasionally her gaze would wander over to him as he watched the Procession with a focused and clear gaze.

Eventually, a groan from Sadie Kane would push Yunjin out of these little glances she would steal,

"Huh?" Yunjin asked.

"Jen I have been trying to tell you about this new spell I wanted to teach you but you keep looking at Tall dark and handsome over there. Just ask him out," Sadie said

"What are you talking about?"

"OH please we all know about your little cuddle sesh with Dragon of the Southwest over there, Just ask him out and be done with it," Sadie said with an exaggerated British accent.

Meanwhile Roland was minding his own business.

fast forward 15 minutes and it's time to unveil the statue, Piper the daughter of Aphrodite and Yujin, a very famous legacy of Aphrodite give flowery speeches about how her beauty and power has saved countless lives, yadda yadda, etc. Meanwhile Aphrodite can't get enough of the budding romance between Roland and Yunjin. so she decides to add a little fuel to the fire.

Roland feels that bizarre warmth in his body again, as does Yunjin. however as they move further apart it becomes more irritating and intense but as the move closer it becomes pleasant but more intense. this leads to them moving throughout the speech until they end up shoulder to shoulder, and like clockwork they fall into their teasing relationship.

Meanwhile, Sakura and Oliver were handling the final touches at the grand unveiling stage—a beautiful platform beneath cherry blossom-laced archways, facing the new Aphrodite statue carved from opal-toned marble. Petals drifted through the air, catching in Sakura’s hair and Oliver’s hoodie as they adjusted the ceremonial drapery.

As the speeches began, the crowd gathered. Demigods from every pantheon, some in togas, some in battle armor, leaned in to listen.

Yunjin stood among a group of friends—her fellow magicians, charmers, and demigod heroes laughing and chatting. But her gaze kept wandering.

Roland, true to form, stood like a sentry at the edge of the crowd. Arms folded, expression unreadable, shadowed eyes fixed on the podium. Every so often, Yunjin would glance his way, catching how the breeze ruffled his hood, how his bracelet glinted when he fidgeted with it. Her chest tightened—annoyingly so.

“Huh?” Yunjin blinked as a nudge from Sadie Kane pulled her out of the daze.

Sadie raised an unimpressed brow. “Jen, I’ve been explaining this new spell for five minutes, and you’re over there making heart eyes at Dragon Boy.”

“I am not—”

“Please.” Sadie gestured dramatically. “We all heard about your little cuddle session. On a dragon. At a demigod lounge. Scandalous.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Yunjin muttered, color blooming in her cheeks.

Sadie grinned. “It’s okay. I approve. You’ve got excellent taste in emotionally repressed monster slayers.”

Roland, for his part, was very much not eavesdropping. He was doing his best to focus on the speeches. Mostly.

He’d caught Yunjin’s voice in the crowd earlier—her laughter, the rhythm of her teasing—and despite himself, his ear kept tuning toward it like a spell. He sighed, then turned his attention back to the stage, just as Piper and Yujin (the legacy, not the girl in question) stepped forward.

Piper’s voice rang out smooth and sure. “Aphrodite isn’t just beauty—she’s power. Strategy. Diplomacy. The reason countless battles ended before they even began.”

Yujin added with poetic flair, “She is the soft force behind every hard edge, the velvet glove in every armored gauntlet.”

Aphrodite watched from her hidden spot in the crowd, barely suppressing a giggle. She waved her fingers subtly—and the magic began to stir.

Roland’s chest warmed. Not a metaphor. Actual, confusing warmth bloomed in his sternum and spread outward like sun-warmed honey. His brow furrowed.

Yunjin shifted in place, tugging at the collar of her shirt. “Ugh. Is it just me, or is it suddenly—hot?”

Then the discomfort sharpened.

When they drifted apart—drawn in opposite directions by friends, distractions, or sheer denial—the heat became an itch, a prickle, an almost aching discomfort.

But when they neared—just by a few feet—the warmth smoothed out into something… oddly pleasant. Calming, even. And intense.

Roland slowly made his way closer through the crowd. Yunjin, half-distracted by the sensation and half-curious, did the same.

Until they were shoulder to shoulder.

He didn’t look at her. She didn’t look at him. But they both knew.

Yunjin whispered, “You’re following me.”

Roland scoffed. “You’re orbiting me. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I could say the same.”

“You just did.”

She exhaled, a small smirk twitching at the corner of her lips. “Gods, you’re exhausting.”

“And you’re insufferable,” he muttered—but there was no heat in his voice. Just that same strange pull, the one he’d felt every time she challenged him, beat him to a monster, or called him out on his stubbornness.

And somehow, standing there beneath a goddess’s statue and an enchanted sky, it all felt like something was about to break.

Aphrodite smiled behind the curtains.

The game was set. The trap was sprung.

And they had no idea what was coming next.

As the speech went on, the crowd buzzed with shifting attention spans—some captivated, others restless.

Yunjin and Roland, shoulder to shoulder now by some invisible magnetic pull, were quietly falling back into their usual rhythm.

“Well,” Yunjin muttered, arms crossed as she stared at the back of the Aphrodite statue’s silken cover, “at least the speech is prettier than your playlists.”

Roland raised an eyebrow, deadpan. “You don’t like passion and soul?”

“If by passion and soul you mean screaming into a void over distorted guitar, then no. I like actual music.”

“Says the girl who sings opera in dead languages,” Roland shot back. “Structured vocals in a language you don’t even speak? Yeah. Super relatable.”

Yunjin gave him a sidelong glare. “Opera is timeless. It takes discipline. Artistry.”

He shrugged. “So does not blowing out your vocal cords in a breakdown.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re pretentious.”

But even as the teasing burned low, something in Roland softened. His head tilted slightly, and he started humming under his breath—quiet, but clear to Yunjin’s sharp ears.

She froze.

“Wait… is that…?”

Roland kept his eyes on the stage but didn’t stop humming.

Yunjin’s brows furrowed. “You’re humming Gnarly. By Katseye.”

Roland said nothing at first. Then: “Catchy track. Good build. Weird bridge, but it works.”

Yunjin blinked at him, caught off guard. “You’ve been listening to it?”

“On repeat,” he admitted, still not looking at her. “Figured if I’m gonna be trapped in a musical turf war with you, I might as well understand the enemy.”

That made her snort.

Then, softer: “It’s not a war.”

Roland glanced at her, just for a beat. “Could’ve fooled me.”

The moment hung—brief, almost weightless. Yunjin looked ahead again, but the heat behind her ribs had changed. Less like annoyance, more like… something blooming.

A familiar warmth rolled through both of them again—stronger now. The crowd clapped as Piper closed out her speech, and the silk cover began to lower from the statue.

And neither of them noticed Aphrodite’s fingers subtly tracing runes in the air from behind the stage.

The magic was already pulsing beneath their feet.

And this was just the beginning.

The unveiling continued with thunderous applause. Flower petals spiraled through the air—half conjured, half natural—swirling in iridescent arcs around the statue of Aphrodite now glimmering in full view.

But Roland didn’t clap. His head tilted slightly, brows furrowing.

The warmth in his chest hadn’t faded with the speech’s end.

It was intensifying.

Not the comforting warmth of admiration or joy—no. This felt like a coil tightening behind his ribs, like something ancient pulling at his nerves. The air shimmered unnaturally. Every instinct honed from years of battle bristled with warning.

He leaned toward Yunjin, voice low and urgent. “Something’s wrong. There’s magic in the air—not ambient. This is a directed hex.”

Yunjin’s expression sobered, her gaze scanning the crowd. “From who?”

“Don’t cast anything,” Roland said sharply. “It’s reactive—whoever set this trap wants us to interact with it. It’s tethered—”

But she was already raising her hand.

“Yunjin, no—!”

A pulse of her magic flared out, brushing the invisible thread.

The trap snapped.

The marble beneath their feet glowed violently pink, veins of radiant gold pulsing through it like a heartbeat. A burst of rose-colored mist surged upward, wrapping around them in a hot, heady haze. Gasps rang out as the crowd stumbled back.

The air clicked.

Then sealed.

Yunjin and Roland found themselves inside a translucent crystal cage, humming with celestial script and pulsing enchantments. The air inside tasted like warm spice and starlight, heavy with emotion. The bars glowed faintly—not metal, not glass, but pure magical pressure shaped by repressed feelings.

“Oh great,” Roland muttered, scanning the runes. “Love trap. Aphrodite-grade. We’ve been hexed into a feelings cage.”

Yunjin started pacing, arms flailing. “This is why I don’t listen to you! You’re always so vague! If you knew it was tethered, say that!”

“I did say that!”

“You gave me one of your patented ‘doom is coming’ one-liners and expected me to interpret your brooding!”

“Because I am brooding, Yunjin!” Roland snapped. His voice spiked louder than he meant it to. “I’m brooding because I’m constantly dodging monster ambushes, god curses, and now apparently you setting off love bombs!”

“Oh please,” she scoffed, poking a glowing bar, “you’re always attracting this crap. You walk around like you’re starring in a tragic fantasy drama—of course this stuff finds you!”

“I didn’t ask to be cursed by two war gods and an underworld queen before puberty!” Roland snapped, his voice cracking from sheer frustration. “I didn’t want to become someone who flinches when people touch me or expects betrayal when someone’s nice for more than five minutes!”

That silenced her.

Roland’s chest rose and fell fast, his fists clenched at his sides.

“And you,” he growled, softer now but more dangerous, “you make it all worse.”

Her brow furrowed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“God damn it…” he spat, pacing like a caged lion, “why are you so hot?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, stepping closer. “Why are you so goddamn hot all the time? Why does every fight with you feel like foreplay and war at the same time? Why are you the only one who pushes me without breaking me? Why are you the only one who doesn’t look at me like I’m broken?”

Yunjin stared, stunned.

Roland’s eyes were burning now, wide and vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed.

“I spend every day trying to keep myself together. And then you show up—loud, smart, impossible—and I forget how to act. You make me feel… right, and it terrifies me.”

For a moment, silence.

Then her heart cracked open.

Because now that she looked at him—really looked—she saw it. The stiffness in his shoulders. The way he leaned ever so slightly toward her, craving contact but holding himself back like he didn’t deserve it. Like he wasn’t sure it would be returned.

He was starved for affection.

And he didn’t know how to ask for it.

Yunjin’s breath caught.

Without thinking, without a word, she surged forward.

Her hands grabbed his collar, and she kissed him.

It wasn’t sweet or soft.

It was volcanic.

Their lips crashed together in a storm of everything unsaid, unacknowledged, and uncontrollably wanted. The kiss was messy, intense—her body pressing into his as he let out a startled sound and immediately melted into it, like he’d been waiting his whole life for someone to pull him in.

When her tongue pressed past his lips, he didn’t resist—he opened up, entirely, surrendering to her lead without hesitation. It was vulnerable and needy in a way that shattered something in her.

She could feel it in the way his hands clutched at her waist, grounding himself.

She could feel it in the way he groaned into her mouth like he couldn’t remember how to breathe without her.

God, he needed this.

And Yunjin—gods help her—needed him.

The crystal cage pulsed violently, and with a dazzling burst of rose-gold light, it exploded outward like a magical supernova.

The crowd gasped.

Wonyoung dropped her betting scroll.

Kazuha whistled low. “I win.”

Sadie gagged into her drink.

Sakura swooned dramatically onto Oliver’s shoulder, who just muttered, “…Told you.”

Aphrodite, invisible on a nearby rooftop, kicked her heels and shrieked in triumph.

Inside what was left of the cage, Yunjin and Roland kept kissing, lost in each other. His hands buried in her hair, hers gripping the front of his shirt like she never wanted to let go. They didn’t hear the laughter. The applause. The gasps.

Not until Piper cleared her throat behind them.

Loudly.

They finally pulled apart, flushed and panting, eyes wide with the slow realization.

They’d just kissed.

In front of everyone.

And still… neither of them looked particularly sorry.

The crowd was still reeling from the spectacle of Roland and Yunjin making out in a glowing love-cage. Whispers rippled through the air like a spreading wildfire. Someone dropped a goblet. Sadie Kane was still coughing. Wonyoung fanned herself.

A shimmer of pink-gold light bloomed overhead, and then—sparkles.

Actual sparkles.

Aphrodite descended atop a floating chaise lounge, reclined dramatically in a flowing gown made of sheer rose petals and sunset clouds, sipping a nectar cocktail through a heart-shaped straw. She looked radiant. Smug. Pleased.

“Well,” she cooed, voice echoing like it had a beauty filter, “that took long enough.”

Roland and Yunjin had finally broken apart, breathless and flushed. Roland’s hands were still at her waist, and Yunjin’s fingers lingered near the collar of his shirt. They pulled back like they’d been caught passing notes in class.

“W-We were hexed,” Yunjin stammered, brushing her hair back.

Roland muttered, “It was magical interference. Not our fault.”

Aphrodite arched a perfect brow. “Oh honey, no. The spell just unlocked what was already there. You two have been simmering like a slow-burn romance novel for months. I just… preheated the oven.”

Groans and laughter rippled through the crowd. Kazuha fist-bumped Wonyoung. Piper looked like she wanted to disappear into a bush.

Yunjin crossed her arms. “Okay, we get it. You’re the goddess of love, and this is your weird romcom. Can we move on now?”

“No,” Aphrodite chirped, sitting up with sudden sharpness. “You cannot. Because your denial? It’s getting on my last divine nerve.”

She pointed her cocktail straw at them like a divine wand.

“You two are clearly meant for each other. You challenge, balance, and match each other. But noooo—you’d rather argue and angst and fight the obvious. So fine. Quest time.”

The murmuring crowd fell silent.

Roland scowled. “What kind of quest?”

Aphrodite leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “You’re going to retrieve my lost relic—The Veil of Theros. It’s been hidden in the realm between dreams and memory, guarded by spirits of forgotten love. Romantic, right?”

Yunjin blinked. “That sounds… dangerous.”

“And emotionally invasive,” Roland added.

“Oh, absolutely,” Aphrodite said with a grin. “But here’s the fun part.”

She clapped once.

A pulse of magic surged out, wrapping around Roland and Yunjin like invisible vines. A glowing seal formed over their hearts, linked by a fine golden thread.

“You’re now under a spell,” she said sweetly. “Until you complete the quest together, every time you try to repress or deny your feelings—” she snapped her fingers, “—they’ll come out. Loudly. Compulsively. Publicly.”

Roland opened his mouth to protest—and immediately blurted out, “Yunjin’s lips are so ridiculously plump and kissable it makes me insane. I want her to kiss me all over—gods, why am I saying this out loud?!”

A chorus of shocked gasps followed. Sadie dropped her cup.

Yunjin looked like she was going to combust on the spot, eyes wide, jaw slack.

Aphrodite giggled like a villainess. “See? You lie to yourselves, and your hearts tell the truth for you.”

Yunjin tried to say something—anything—but all that came out was, “Sometimes I rehearse what I’d say if Roland ever kissed me again and it’s never appropriate for public ears.”

The crowd exploded.

Wonyoung screamed. Oliver howled with laughter. Piper put her face in her hands. Kazuha whispered, “Oh, this is better than Olympus TV.”

Aphrodite reclined again, sipping smugly. “Tick-tock, lovebirds. The sooner you find the veil, the sooner you can stop emotionally strip-teasing in front of all your peers.”

With a wink, she vanished in a swirl of glitter.

Roland and Yunjin stood in the middle of the stage, surrounded by demigods, heroes, and a whole lot of shocked expressions.

Neither of them moved.

Then Roland muttered, “I hate everything.”

Yunjin whispered, “I’m going to kill a goddess.”

The air was still thick with gossip as Roland and Yunjin stumbled off the stage, cheeks burning, tethered by an actual golden thread of fate that shimmered faintly between their chests like a cursed phone charger. Every time they pulled more than a few feet apart, the thread tugged with a magical ping and an uncomfortable rush of emotion that made their hearts flutter and stomachs flip.

“Okay,” Roland muttered, jaw clenched as they entered the armory lounge. “Let’s grab our gear, keep our heads down, and maybe no one will—”

“ROMEOOO, JULIET~” sang Wonyoung from the balcony above, voice full Disney princess, full volume.

Kazuha leaned over the railing, grinning. “Don’t forget your enchanted condoms!”

Yunjin groaned and dragged a hand down her face. “We’re never living this down.”

Sadie passed them a satchel of potions with a smirk. “Just be safe. Emotion-magic is intense. I once watched two cursed lovers make out so hard they knocked themselves out on a fountain.”

“Not helpful,” Roland said flatly.

“Still true,” Sadie added cheerfully.

They reached the supply wing, and began sorting through enchanted blades, travel kits, rope, celestial bronze, spellbooks, and first aid charms. But the curse didn’t wait politely for them to finish.

As Roland inspected a pack, he casually muttered, “Gonna need extra space in case Yunjin wants to shove more lip gloss in here—”

Then froze.

His face contorted in horror as the curse kicked in.

“—because watching her reapply it is basically a religious experience. It's so distracting I forgot how to zip a bag once. Gods, shut up mouth, please shut up mouth—”

Yunjin dropped the compass she was holding.

She turned toward him, pink blooming across her cheeks—and then it hit her.

“Oh yeah?” she shot back, eyes wide with panic. “Well, I stole your flannel hoodie last week just to sleep in it, because it still smelled like you, and it made me feel… safe.”

The room fell silent.

Oliver, leaning on the doorway with a protein shake, raised a brow. “Wow. Y’all are like walking Tumblr posts now.”

Sakura, entering behind him, handed them each a canteen. “This is the most romantic disaster I’ve ever witnessed, and I lived through Nico’s three-month brooding phase.”

Roland mumbled something about perishing in the woods.

Yunjin muttered about “accidentally” feeding herself to a chimera.

But the teasing didn’t stop. Wherever they went—grabbing maps from the strategy den, collecting healing salves from the greenhouse, packing snacks from the mess hall—demigods whistled, flirted, or shot finger-hearts their way.

At one point, a trio of younger campers actually started following them while humming wedding music. Yunjin shot them a death glare, which only made them giggle harder.

Finally, bags packed and tempers fraying, Roland and Yunjin ended up near the stables to check their transport—pegasi, sleek and impatient.

Roland sighed and muttered under his breath, “This is torture.”

But the curse wasn't finished.

“—because she smells like wildflowers and moonlight and I hate how much I like it.”

Yunjin closed her eyes.

Then opened them, stepped forward, and whispered, “Let’s just get this relic… before I kiss you again in front of a minor god.”

“Deal,” Roland whispered back, voice hoarse.

Their fingers brushed when they reached for the same saddle.

Neither of them pulled away.

The country club’s underground hangar buzzed with arcane electricity and the smell of engine oil, elemental fire, and coconut-scented monster repellent. Leo Valdez stood on a lift, goggles perched in his hair, tightening bolts on what looked like a massive bronze wing. His latest skyship—a sleek, solar-powered monstrosity of Valdez-brand genius—was halfway complete, hovering under gravitational runes and Leo’s unspoken stress.

Roland ducked under a hanging cable and cleared his throat. “Hey. Got a minute?”

Leo looked up, his usual smirk absent.

“Depends,” he said, tightening one more bolt before hopping down. “You here to tell me the world’s ending again, or that you need a flamethrower because Yunjin challenged you to a karaoke duel and you took it personally?”

Roland exhaled through his nose. “Neither. I’m just checking on the skyship. The one I… commissioned six months ago.”

Leo crossed his arms. “You mean the one I was building for stealth border incursions until it got held up because someone insisted on adding anti-love-magic shielding ‘just in case’?”

Roland didn’t answer. His face said it all.

Leo squinted. “That shielding wouldn’t have helped today, huh?”

Roland shifted, muttering, “Can you have it ready by tomorrow?”

Leo nodded slowly. “Yeah. If I pull an all-nighter and threaten the mana core with emotional neglect, I might make it fly by dawn.”

Then he looked at Roland more closely—really looked. There was tension in the boy’s shoulders, but something else too: the frayed edges of restraint. He was unraveling by degrees.

Leo raised an eyebrow. “You okay, man?”

Roland opened his mouth.

Did not get the chance to answer.

Because behind them, echoing from just outside the hangar bay, came Yunjin’s voice—clear, unfiltered, and cursed to the godsdamn moon:

“I want Roland to call me Mommy, despite me being younger. He’s so clearly a sub, it only makes sense. I make him feel safe and seen—so yeah. He’s definitely my good boy. And I’m definitely his mommy.”

Silence.

A wrench hit the floor.

Leo turned—slowly—and stared at Roland, blinking.

Roland, mortified, turned a full shade of crimson usually reserved for lava and romantic blood oaths. “I—I didn’t—she’s cursed too!”

Leo whistled, wide-eyed. “Wow.”

“I’m gonna hurl myself into the engines,” Roland muttered, already walking toward the ship.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Leo jogged after him, barely keeping the grin out of his voice. “So do I put a plush throw blanket in the cockpit? Or like… a throne for your mommy?”

Roland kept walking. “I hate it here.”

“Just say the word, dude. I’ll stitch ‘Good Boy 1’ into your seatbelt.”

“Leo.”

“Yunjin can get a mug. ‘Best Mom in Camp.’ We’ll keep it classy.”

As Leo dissolved into gleeful laughter, Roland facepalmed so hard his necklace nearly snapped.

The long dinner table on the terrace overlooked the lake, golden light from floating lanterns flickering off the water. Plates clinked, laughter buzzed, and the air smelled of grilled fish, lemon rice, and mint.

Roland sat stiffly between Yunjin and Oliver, trying to focus on his food and not the way Yunjin’s knee kept brushing his under the table. Across from them were Sakura, Chaewon, and her son of brigid-but-charmingly-oblivious boyfriend Django, who was animatedly telling a story about mistaking a dryad for a cosplay model.

Yunjin sipped her drink. “You thought she was doing a fan meet in the middle of the woods?”

“She had glitter on her face!” Django defended. “And a ring light!”

Chaewon shook her head. “He gave her his Instagram.”

“I regret nothing,” Django declared.

Everyone laughed—except Roland, who was staring at his fork with military-grade focus.

“Are you good?” Oliver leaned in with a smirk. “You look like your lasagna just confessed its feelings.”

Roland muttered, “This whole meal is cursed.”

Yunjin, cheeks pink, jabbed her elbow lightly into his ribs. “You act like it’s a punishment to sit next to me.”

He exhaled slowly. “It’s not. It’s just…”

And then it happened.

His mouth moved without permission. “I liked you before I even met you.”

Everyone went silent.

Roland blinked. “Wait—”

Too late.

He tried to backtrack, but the curse had latched on like a spotlight. “My first K-pop photo card was you. I kept it in my wallet because I thought you were the coolest. You had this look—like you were gonna burn the whole system down and still have time to wink at the camera.”

Yunjin froze, chopsticks halfway to her mouth.

“I hoped you’d change the industry,” he added, quieter now. “And even though you drive me crazy, part of me still hopes you do.”

Oliver clutched his heart. “Bro.”

Sakura blinked. “He’s romantic when he’s malfunctioning.”

Roland buried his face in his hands. “I hate this spell.”

Yunjin stared at him like he’d grown wings. Her voice was soft when she finally spoke. “You… really thought that about me?”

Roland didn’t answer—but the tips of his ears were red.

Then the curse struck her.

“I want to hold you after your nightmares,” she blurted.

The silence returned.

“I want to be the person you text when you think the world is too much,” she continued, eyes wide like she couldn’t stop the words. “You act like you're fine being alone, but I see how touch-starved you are. You soften like butter when someone’s kind to you. I want to be that person for you.”

Sakura made a high-pitched noise and dropped her spoon.

“Okay, this is happening,” Chaewon whispered, nudging Django, who blinked in awe.

Oliver sipped his drink like this was the best theater he’d seen all year. “This is the most unintentional confession dinner I’ve ever attended.”

Roland finally looked at Yunjin—really looked at her—and despite how red his face was, his voice cracked with something fragile.

“I want that too.”

She smiled, small and real, before muttering, “Gods, I hate how much I like you.”

They stared at each other.

Sakura slammed the table. “JUST DATE ALREADY.”

Django raised his glass. “To cursed love!”

Everyone laughed—except Roland and Yunjin, who just kept sneaking glances at each other, hearts pounding, walls dissolving one dinner course at a time.

The table had cleared, and the soft murmur of conversation still lingered in the air as the group began to make their way toward the preparation area. Roland was stretching his arms over his head, feeling the subtle tug in his muscles. He had barely had a chance to stretch before dinner, and now, with the weight of the day still hanging over him, he needed a moment.

As he leaned forward, trying to get a good stretch in, his eyes happened to flicker to Yunjin's legs. She was adjusting her boots, sitting cross-legged on one of the stone benches nearby. His gaze lingered a fraction too long, and then—his mouth worked before his brain could stop it.

"God, I want you to choke me with your thighs."

Yunjin, without missing a beat, raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You would like that, you little sub."

Roland froze mid-stretch, his hands still hovering over his feet. "I am not a sub."

Yunjin let out a soft laugh, the sound unexpectedly light and teasing. "Please. I could feel the way you melted into that kiss. And if it weren’t for Piper, my tongue would still be down your throat.”

Roland let out a frustrated grunt, looking away. "Well, obviously you're the first girl who's matched my freak. Of course, I’m gonna be submissive at first."

Yunjin leaned back, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. "Sub or not, you can’t deny that when I kissed you, you were all in."

His eyes narrowed as he shot back, “You think I’m submissive because I gave into a kiss? That was a magical kiss, you were hexed.”

“Oh, please,” Yunjin said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “We both know you liked it. Don’t make me get the crocodile spirit out again.”

Roland groaned, rubbing his temples. “You’re impossible.”

Sakura, who had been quietly watching them from the side, shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. “I can’t believe my boyfriend is missing all of this. He was the first one to say you two work really well together. But of course, he’s too busy with work to be here for this. Just my luck.”

Chaewon, ever the supportive friend, grinned and nudged her. “You know, Sakura, maybe this is exactly why they work. There’s no middle ground with these two. It’s all or nothing.”

Sakura let out an exasperated laugh. "They really need to get it together."

Meanwhile, Roland and Yunjin were still bickering like they hadn’t just shared one of the most intimate moments of their lives. Roland shot a glance at Yunjin as she gathered her things, his eyes lingering for a beat longer than necessary.

“You’re still not getting me to admit I’m a sub,” Roland grumbled.

Yunjin snorted. “Yeah, sure. Keep pretending. It’s cute.”

The curse was bubbling under the surface again, a silent but overwhelming force as their emotions swirled around them like a storm. Every time they exchanged glances or snapped at each other, the energy between them thickened, crackling in the air.

Roland sighed heavily, as though frustrated with the emotional chaos. “I can’t believe this is happening. Why the hell does Aphrodite have to make everything so complicated?”

“Maybe because you two are so complicated,” Yunjin retorted, her eyes narrowing in playful challenge.

“Maybe you’re right.” Roland straightened up from his stretch, shooting her a half-smile. "Still doesn’t mean I want to be a sub.”

Yunjin just rolled her eyes, smirking. “Whatever you say, Roland.”

Sakura shook her head, turning to Chaewon and Django. “Do you see this? They can’t even admit it to themselves. And they're so damn stubborn about it. I can’t deal with this.”

Chaewon smiled knowingly. “They’ll figure it out when the curse decides to do its thing.”

“God, I hope they do,” Sakura mumbled. "I mean, I’ve seen it from the start, but this… this is gonna be a wild ride."

The night air was cool as Roland and Yunjin stepped out of the country club, their footsteps heavy with the lingering tension that had followed them all evening. Despite the curses and emotional undercurrents, they still couldn’t get rid of the underlying frustration and the undeniable pull they felt toward each other. As they walked to their separate cars, Yunjin shot Roland a quick glance, eyes flickering with a mixture of annoyance and something else.

“You’re still mad about the whole ‘sub’ thing?” Yunjin teased, clearly enjoying the push-pull dynamic between them.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Roland shot back, opening his car door. “You’re insufferable.”

Yunjin rolled her eyes as she got into her own car, revving the engine with a sharp twist of the keys. “If you’re not going to own up to your sub tendencies, that’s your problem.”

“Don’t even start,” Roland muttered, already pulling out of the parking lot. “We’re both cursed, and I’m getting tired of the way you twist everything.”

“Yeah? I’m getting tired of the way you won’t admit anything,” she countered, pulling away in the opposite direction.

The drive to their places should have been easy—just a short distance—but every turn, every shift in gears seemed to increase the tension in the air, as if the space between them was becoming charged with something far deeper than just a rivalry.

The closer they got to their respective homes, the more Roland felt the burn in his chest. His thoughts—his desires—were no longer his own. He tried to focus on the road, to ignore the strange warmth spreading through his limbs. But it was there, in the back of his mind, crawling into his thoughts, turning his focus to her.

He glanced at the rearview mirror, but it wasn’t her car that drew his attention. It was the heat creeping through his veins—the magnetism of her presence, even when she wasn’t nearby.

Rolling down his window, he tried to shake off the heat. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

The strange, suffocating need only intensified the closer he got to home. His chest felt tight, and his mind couldn’t seem to focus on anything but her. That fucking kiss—god, that kiss—and everything else. Every thought turned toward her in a way he couldn’t control.

Finally, with a deep exhale, Roland made a snap decision. He pulled into the driveway and parked, then immediately grabbed his phone.

“Get over here.”

It didn’t take long for the response.

“On my way.”

[bluebloodravenclawqueen]

since there is like no wulfxthrit content, i shall make my own in the form of some headcanons:

wulf is definitely taller than thrit, like i just know wulf is one of the big boys

thrit has a more slender build as he focuses his training mostly on shooting arrows while wulf prefers sword fighting

they do hand to hand combat for fun and it turns wulf on when thrit beats him

thrit is definitely a menace; like i imagine him being a little shit who likes to play pranks and laughs at wulfs two left feet (as we saw in the epilogue)

they would somehow find a way for thrit to meet esbar and tuva and tuva would love thrit but esbar would full on adore him as if he were her own son — the power dynamic that they would have!!

thrit teaches siyu how to shoot an inyscan bow and they bond and become super close and bully wulf for his horrible skill of picking up on a crush

thrit fell first but wulf fell harder

thrit knows how to braid hrothi braids and since wulf has long hair thrit always braids it for him

wulf would sometimes still doubt himself due to karlstens bullying but thrit would always be there to catch him and wipe away his tears

sometimes they both mourn their lost friends and when these times come they cannot be separated at all; they are always attached at the hip anyways but during hard times their codependency can become insufferable

wulf sometimes gets frustrated that he wasted so much time — thrit smacks his head when he starts with that shit

they both leave little gifts for baby sabran sometimes

they play a lot of chess and wulf never wins

when wulf gets hurt in battle, thrit jumps in front of him to shield him from whatever else could come at him

when thrit gets hurt in battle, wulf becomes so furious that he kills everyone in a 10 meter radius around him

they have snowball fights in hroth (and always end up kissing in the snow)

they tour the world and study languages (wulf still wants to get better at this mothers language)

when thrit is tired he makes wulf carry him on his back

wulf is ticklish and thrit uses this for his advantage whenever he can

wulf loves to get up early; thrit hates it

they sometimes go fishing for entire days and just enjoy the peace and quiet of nature (wulf loves seeing thrit bare chested in the open water with a spear in his hand)

they race with their horses

they’re both so good with children and maybe sometimes they both dream in the quiet moments of actually having a family together

wulf randomly adopts three stray dogs (they name them regny, sauma and bardt)

thrit has to stand on his tippy toes to kiss wulf; wulf gets giddy when he realizes it for the first time

they wear matching necklaces at some point

einlenk once told wulf he should just propose to thrit (wulf didn’t even know einlenk knew they were together)

thrit and glorian get along really well: he is sent to her once to help with something and they chat and become pen pals

wulf tells thrit about the priory and the mother at some point after they have been together for years: he expects that he has to fight for thrit to understand the meaning behind it, but thrit just nods along and then goes “i always thought it made no sense that a beast should be bound by a bloodline of queens from one person who has defeated him, but when i questioned it as a child they said that it would be treason to even just think that“ wulf would be too stunned to respond and then thrit would add “also no man could do that, it had to have been a woman“ and wulf just kisses the hell out of him

they go shopping for fresh apples on the market together

mara teaches thrit how to bake bread (they love each other so much that wulf finds it concerning)

roland says thrit is too good for wulf; thrit argues against it but wulf secretly agrees

wulfs fathers cry when they see that wulf has found someone he feels safe with

ugh just thrit and wulf man THE POTENTIAL of their love

[strobbylemonade]

canto 7 pt 3 spoilers and thoughts and stuff

i really didn't expect her to be like.. locked up. by herself. its so sad. i feel so bad for her in the lighthouse. also the I WANT YOU poster cracked me up.

vergilius calling her "my lady" was cute. i thought we were going to get more of their friendship this canto but apparently not. maybe later :( but also what's up with his eyes?? who's his old friend??? WHO did he take the eyes from?? it's not don quixote because he still has his eyes, so it's either the bloodfiend moses spoke with, or it's the progenitor?? or there's more first-gen blood fiends we don't know about.

adding more guesses to the dante's identity flame:

dante is bari/the bookhunter

dante is vergilius' "old friend"

dante is the bloodfiend vergilius got his eyes from

dante is verigilius' old friend who IS the bloodfiend vergilius got his eyes from

dante is dante and their old self is destroyed

dante is an extremely powerful unknown character who gets their memories back but after their canto they pull a don quixote and chooses to live the rest of their lives as the dante we know

sanchos expressions were really really awesome. she's just so... augh....

THESE GUYS REALLY PISSED ME OFF.

i'm not smart enough to understand the implications of this. but ??? sinclair standing up for donqui?? yaaaayy!!!! the sign??? and also him paralleling bari is definitely not a coincidence. i wonder what the mark of cain has to do with it all.

i didn't notice while i was playing but sinclair starts blushing when he asks her to open up. they're so cute. and they're trying their hardest to be vulnerable to their fucked up lil family. i love them.

WE GOT OUTIS LORE!!! LET'S GO!!! this was surprisingly vulnerable of her... and dante's response of "I will. As long as they have the will to change, to move forward, I will be there for them." was great. also girl what do you mean TENS OF THOUSANDS??? i'm starting to think outis has a lot more guilt for the smoke war than she lets on.

uhh and speaking of change that's another theme that's popping up more interestingly enough. yi sang, sinclair, and being "unable to change" is what caused heathcliff to distort. interesting narrative theme. (starts side eyeing dante and outis). also change being one of the biggest themes of library of ruina, with roland and angela needing to break the cycle of the City to achieve their good ending.

bari is cool as shit

the cutscene that follows this where they're all talking about how much fun they had with donqui through the stageplay was genuinely both so cheesy and sweet i almost cried.

oughhh i'm not bothered to grab screenshots from every part i enjoyed of the final point so we're doing dot points again!

sancho's backstory of being born alone and wishing to die before don quixote gave her love and life was... holy shit. "That is why you saved my life from the periphery of death... tried to share your love... and made my heart beat again."

again with the themes of suicide. the original don quixote sees sancho as special because she doesn't want to inflict suffering on others and instead simply wishes to "burn myself to ashes like I was never here". and that's how she gets her first family. because she suffered alone. and then don quixote makes his children suffer alone in la manchaland.

"I don't know who I am" lyric in Hero hits really song. YEAH I FORGOT TO MENTION MILI PEAK!!! it really feels like some of their older music, especially something from mahoyaku (the Big Moon in the background during the final phase certainly helped). the second part sounds especially like Cast Me a Spell. or something from miracle milk with the way the instrumentals and sfx sound. i really like it.

DON QUIXOTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WAAAAAAAAAAA WAAAAA

"She was incandescent, like a brilliant star twinkling in the night sky. / That very brilliance compelled me to reach out and hope." OUGHHH. dante's role in this chapter has been really interesting... they're like her, they're chained to their past but are also playing the role of someone who they don't know who they're meant to be. they have a really passive role in bringing sancho back to the Gang, with the other sinners stepping in to help her moreso than dante themselves, and then at the end, it's sancho who saves them, acts as their star, and gives them their dreams back (of having all the sinners together as one big happy family).

and just. holy shit. this entire sequence.

I DID NOT EXPECT A QUICKTIME EVENT!! big cast a spell vibes... i genuinely gasped when the fireworks went off..

LMAO SHE'S MAKING FUN OF HIM FOR THE ROCINANTE THING. also kyaa hong lu's teaching dante how to smile!!! i'm sure this won't have any terrifying implications next canto!!! definitely!! there's some interesting parallels to what donqui said about dante having an "expression" and what demian said about being able to hear them all the way back in canto iii, because donqui/demian listen to their "heart" and not their actual face/voice. interesting

also new dante sprite please???? please??? new dante pose perhaps even??? please????

interesting we're getting the clock ticking closer to doomsday after canto 7 and not 8. with the trajectory they're on, doomsday will happen during or after outis' canto (and before faust's). fun. can't wait for the random lore drop next intervallo/event where they take turns feeding don quixote their blood. please. please. please???

mili peak. pass on peak. feelings peak. augh. i love my idiot family and their pet Cosmic Horror Entity. although i would argue it's a family of 15 and not 12!!! i love found family!!!!

[itsatigersharkidiot]

UNWIND BAND AU-Bonus stories

🎄Christmas Special🎄

woah it’s already christmas? anyways, to celebrate, I’m giving a gift to you guys, a small band au fic.

Happy holidays! -Lei-Lei

“Woah…the snow sure is pretty.” Lev was admiring the way the snow covered the ground like a soft, white blanket, sparkling in the sunlight. He turned back to his band members, all sitting in the living room while enjoying Risa’s holiday pastries.

All six members had gathered at Connor’s place for a Christmas celebration. They didn’t really have much to do on Christmas anyways, thus, the idea of celebrating together as a band was brought up and agreed on. However, some members brought their siblings along, rather than leave them at home with their miserable parents.

“I told my sister to go with Lucas and Leif, so they shouldn’t be harassing us much.” Roland said, crossing his arms.”

“Can we do the gift exchange?” Lev asked, quite excited for this part. Connor was close to whacking him again for being impatient, but he’d spare him this time…maybe.

“Shit…I forgot.” Roland sighed and rubbed his temples, Connor now wanted to whack him instead of Lev. That would result in him getting his ass beat and a pissed off Layton.

“I didn’t!” Layton exclaimed, dragging out a massive bag full of wrapped items. “Damn! How could you afford all that?!” Connor asked “and in this economy too?!” “My mother is quite wealthy, sure she hates me, but she doesn’t care what I do with the money.” Connor looked away, he forgot Layton was a rich kid at times.

As Layton took the gifts out and began handing out multiple gifts to everyone, the others began doing the same. “Layton…this wasn’t really necessary, we’d be fine with just one gift.” Cam said, looking around, Layton however shook her head “I understand that, but I care for you guys, all of you. I’ve never really got the chance to give gifts to others, figured I’d make the most of it with you guys.”

This made everyone smile, making Layton feel even better about this. Now the others were passing out their gifts, Roland had surprisingly remembered to bring his gifts, Layton had to giggle at his stupidity. Now the opening had began, everyone was getting things they’d been wanting for a while.

“A recipe book for baking!”

“A new baseball jersey!”

“An…IKEA shark..?”

“It’s a blåhaj, Roland…get it right.” Layton corrected him.

“A…pair of socks.” Connor held up the pair, Roland frowned. “Those are for you because of your dumb ass “nice socks” thingy.” Connor looked at him dead in the eye, squinting his own.

“Nice. Socks.”

“yousonofa—“ Roland got up and smacked the shit out of him. This (like Connor had predicted) led to a pissed off Layton and even a disappointed Risa.

After calming the both of them down, they continued the gift opening. Risa got her and Connor matching shirts. “Risa, this is adorable…thanks.” Connor gave her a kiss on the cheek, Lev giggling at the sight “how sweet.”

Layton got her and Roland matching shark onesies, making him feel amused yet slightly flustered.

Cam was gifted a new vinyl record “Awesome! I’ve always wanted to expand my music taste.” He was open to listen to any kind of music so that resulted in many recommendations from the others.

Finally the gift opening had concluded, wrapping paper was everywhere. Connor sighed and decided “Screw this, I’m cleaning this later.” Now what would they do? After a little bit of decision making, they’d decided on going downstairs to watch a Christmas movie.

“Oh! I forgot to mention I invited Miracolina!” Lev said “what, your little girlfriend?” Connor teased. Lev scowled “she’s not my girlfriend!”

“Yeah she is”

“No she’s not!” Lev stormed downstairs feeling embarrassed. Everyone else made their way downstairs, except Layton “I’ll be down in a minute! I’m just grabbing a soda!”

So she made her way to the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing a can of a cranberry soda of sorts. Before she could go around to leave, she felt someone tap her shoulder. She whipped her head back and saw Roland standing behind her, holding a small, wrapped box.

“What’s that?”

“I forgot one of your gifts, take it.”

Layton blinked and set the soda down, carefully taking the small box and unwrapping it. She then opened the box, revealing a shark tooth necklace.

“I got you one, now we can match.” Roland showcased his own.

“Aw…thanks.” She smiled. Roland couldn’t wait and took it out of the box, adjusting it and putting it over her head and around her neck.

“It fits perfectly.” Layton smiled even wider.

The two of them made eye contact for a while before Roland stepped a bit closer “Mistletoe.” Layton looked up and there was indeed a decorative mistletoe above them. “Ah, I see.” They looked at each other once again before moving closer and closing the gap between them. Roland pressed a kiss to Layton’s lips, hers so soft compared to his. They pulled away after a while, Layton speaking up first “I was wanting to kiss you anyways…even if there wasn’t the conveniently placed mistletoe…”

“Oh. My. Goodness gracious.” Lev stood there, wide eyed. He had seen it happen while going to grab a drink. Roland glared at him and raised a fist. “You didn’t see anything, you little shit.” Lev grabbed a drink and scurried off downstairs. Layton and Roland made their way down shortly after.

So for the rest of the night, they all watched a movie together. Connor and Risa were snuggled up under a blanket together. Miracolina made it over and Lev was sitting with her and Cam. Roland and Layton had changed into the shark onesies and were lying together. Risa’s baked pastries were being shared around, it was the perfect way to end a cozy holiday celebration.

Lev suddenly spoke up “hey…I don’t mean to ruin this perfect moment, Connor, Layton, Roland, where did your siblings go?”

“Oh shit.”

“LUCASSS!!!”

“LEIF CALLEN WACH!!!”

Well, almost perfect.

⭐️ Merry Christmas ⭐️

[bluewavesofchange]

The guardians of the Pharaoh

The rise of a new darkness

I don't own Yugioh or it's characters

Warning for violence and blood.

Chapter 14

 

Seto was standing in front of the med bay doors, listening to the doctors and nurses rushing about inside…the world felt like it had slowed down…looking down at the blood coating his hands…the thick red liquid staining his trembling fingers…he didn’t hear the people approaching him as all he could hear was his heart beat in his ears…someone speaks up…”Kaiba?”…he looks up seeing Yugi and his group of friends…the short teens face expressing nothing but fear and confusion, his body shaking as there were tears forming in his eyes…

 

“Wh…where’s Lillian?”

 

He didn’t respond and simply stared blankly at the short teen…the only thing running through his mind was the events that had unfolded just a few moments ago…

 

After Odion and Joey’s duel, Joey was declared the winner and it was revealed that Namu was indeed Marik…and with Odion falling into a coma, Marik’s darker side came to the surface and took over the wielder of the Millennium rod. Unlike Marik, this being desired much more than power, he was out of blood, wanting to make the pharaoh suffer for what Marik had to go through on behalf of the tomb keepers. And he was just plain bat shit crazy. He didn’t wish to rule the world but to rather watch as it burns to the ground, to hear the screams of a thousand innocent fill his ears, to watch the flames of rage and damnation lick and melt away their flesh. He wanted chaos and no one was going to stand in his way…

 

Rozu watched as the light haired Egyptian teen lose himself to his darker side and she had to say his aura was absolutely delectable. His pain, his anger, the insanity that was infecting his very mind was exquisite. His spirit would taste so good on her tongue and would definitely restore a large portion of her strength. He would be perfect…however she needed to ensure that he stayed around long enough for her to have a chance to feast upon him…and there were already several people on the aircraft that wanted him gone…

 

She followed him as a shadow, watching him easily take over the minds of some of the guards and the medical professional who was attending to a comatose Odion. Seems he could handle himself fairly well so there was no concerns of someone throwing him from the zeppelin. Now all she needed to do was to wait for the right moment. She watched as he was about to kill the scar faced man, unsheathing the hidden blade of the Millennium rod and hold it over the man’s face, preparing to stab him through the eye when an announcement rings through the room, calling for Marik to head to the upper deck for his duel with Mai...

 

This would be interesting Rozu thought to herself as she returned to Lillian’s body…

 

The duel didn’t go well between Mai and Marik, the maniac turning it into a shadow game that slowly removed Mai’s memories of her friends and made her feel the pain her monsters felt when they got destroyed. Yami tried to intervene as best he could but Marik was ruthless…and even when Mai managed to get her hands on the Winged Dragon of Ra card, she was unable to control it, some BS about a sacred text being written on the card to activate the beast that could only be read by people who knew the ancient scriptures…and the beast was indeed something to behold…

 

The psycho had somehow chained Mai up, leaving her unable to defend herself from the oncoming attack…Lillian turned to Seto and begged him to end the duel…she had felt ill when the shadow game had begun and didn’t want the blond girl to get hurt or end up dead. On any other day the CEO would’ve let the duel continue but after everything that had happened the past few hours he wasn’t going to risk another injury (not that it would help since Marik had invoked a shadow game). He signalled Roland to end the duel but the possessed man used his Millennium Item to incapacitate the personal assistant, and commanded the Winged Dragon to continue it’s attack…

 

Joey couldn’t stand to let Mai get hurt and got onto the platform, rushing to her aid to try and free but it was no use. He was prepared to sacrifice himself for his friend…it seemed like they both were going to get hit by the beasts attack…

 

Lillian was about to get onto the platform herself only to watch in horror as Yami beats her to it…her eyes widening as the spirit possessing her brothers body takes the hit from Ra, standing in between the beam of devastating energy and his friends…Marik laughing as he taunts the pharaoh. Lillian felt anger and fear starting to grow inside her as she tries to get to her brother but Seto grabs her arm and holds her back. She was already injured enough as it is and he would not risk her health any further���not even for her brother.

 

As Mai’s life points hit zero, the holograms slowly disappear as the duel is over and Yami’s eyes fall shut and he collapses to the floor unconscious…all Yugi could do during this whole ordeal was watch from within the puzzle as his partner takes on the attack of an Egyptian god to protect Joey and Mai…he quickly heads over to Yami’s room to search for the pharaoh…he searches the endless hallways until he finds a passed out Yami laying in the middle of the floor. Yugi rushes to his friend’s side and knees down beside him, pulling him into his arms and tries to shake the spirit awake…yelling at him to wake up…

 

Meanwhile outside Joey was making sure Mai was alright before checking his other knocked out friend, kneeling beside him and trying to wake him up…Marik has a nasty smirk on his face as he unsheathes his Millennium robs blade and walks over to Joey and Yami…the blond stands up and puts himself between the maniac and his the shorter teen but the Egyptian psycho easily stuns the Brooklyn teen. He states that he could easily end the pharaoh and Yugi’s like right there and now, leaning over him as he raises his blade, laughing as he said that he would end him using a shadow game but that didn’t mean he couldn’t maim Yami’s vessel and leave him with his own special scar.

 

But before he could do anything someone grab his robe and tosses him off the duelling platform before he is punched in the face, disorientating him for a split second before he snarls at his attacker…

 

Lillian snapped when she saw Marik was going to harm her brother, breaking free from Seto’s grip and leaping onto the platform, running on instincts as she grabs hold of the teens cloak and yanks him away from Yami. Her rage was boiling over as Rozu was heading her anger…(the spirit had been watching the entire time of course, finding herself purring at the display of dark power and control this person had over the Egyptian god. Not to mention the chance for the pharaoh to get some well-deserved pain. Oh how she loved to see it…she no longer cared for him. He had thrown her aside like she was nothing, after everything she had done for him, all the power she had bestowed upon him and he locked her away to be tormented and torn apart by the shadows she had given him. he deserved every bit of pain he was getting…and she couldn’t wait for the day she could make him suffer too).

 

Dark clouds started to roll in as thunder and lightning starts to fill the sky as Lillian just goes at Marik…just punching or kicking or doing anything she can to let out her pent up anger and aggression…he was responsible for her torture…for trying to repeated kill her brother…he had kidnapped her friends and Mokuba and he had brainwashed Joey and Téa…he was the cause of so much pain and suffering and she wasn’t going to let him continue with his evil agendas…Marik tried to block her rapid attacks, blood running from his nose and from his busted lip. He tried to use his mystical item to stop her but it was of no use. So he used the blade to defend himself, getting a few cuts in but Lillian didn’t care as blood seeps from the wounds and soaking the long sleeved shirt she had on…

 

The storm grows worse as it starts to rain…the wind blowing harder causing turbulence for zeppelin…Seto grabs hold of Mokuba as the aircraft sways, grabbing the railing to steady himself and his brother. Téa had grabbed hold of Serenity while Duke and Tristian were trying to get to the fighting teens to stop them before things got any worse but the wind nearly knocks them over.

 

Lillian grabbed hold of the mad teens throat and holds him over the edge of the railing, her eyes glowing bright as well as her tattoos, her face and body went with rain…she was either going to squeeze the life out of him or drop him to his death…However someone shouts over the howling wind and thundering rain…it’s Joey, trying to get the girls attention, shouting that she was going to cause the whole zeppelin to get blown out of the sky…

 

She hears his words as she looks at her friend…distracting her long enough for Marik to flip around his blade and thrusts it forward…piercing deeply into Lillian’s abdomen…

 

Everything seemed to slow down as the teens could only watch as Marik smirked, pulling out the dagger, the golden metal blade stained with blood…Lillian’s eyes looking down as her body shook…the mad man laughing as he thrusted the blade back into her again…and again…and again…over and over again until her fingers uncurled from his throat and she slowly fell to her knees…her hands going to her stomach which was gushing blood, the thick red liquid seeping through her fingers…Marik only grinned as he licked his Millennium rod clean as the rain had turned to a drizzle…the thunder and lightning fading away…he laughs as he kicks her, sending her sprawling across the floor…taunting her and stating that he shouldn’t have split her focus.

 

Seto had been watching this all unfold while trying to keep his brother from flying of the aircraft…his eyes growing with horror…he had watched the fight and had hoped she would end the mad man’s life right then and there, solving all of their problems…sure the Winged Dragon of Ra would be temporarily lost but he could easily hire a search team to go find it…

 

But thanks to damn Wheeler Lillian got distracted and Marik got the upper hand on her…several injuring her…

 

The world around him went silent, he could see people’s mouths moving but couldn’t hear what was being said as he moved as fast as he could to the girl that was bleeding out on the floor…reaching her side, he screams at Mokuba to alert the medical staff for an emergency as he carefully but quickly rolled Lillian on her back, pressing his hands to the girls stab wounds, applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding…his eyes focused on her face that was growing paler and paler as her eyes were going dim…she reaches up with a trembling hand and rested her palm on his cheek, painting it red without even thinking as her vision was going blurry…

 

The brunet had never felt this panicked before, his heart race as he can do nothing but watch the life slowly bleeding from the woman he loved. He felt her hand on his face, seeing the weak smile on her face…she didn’t know what was going on but she knew she was scared…terrified…she knew she was dying…however she was glad that Seto was here…that she wasn’t alone…she saw the tears forming in his eyes as she let out in a strained voice…“I-I l-love you…” her vision slowly goes dark as her hand falls from Seto face as her eyes closed…

 

Without even thinking about it, Seto hooked his arm under her the girls knees and under her shoulders, speedily making his way to the elevator and heading down, not caring about anything else that was going on on the deck…

 

Mokuba couldn’t believe what he had witnessed and was frozen with shock but his big brothers screams had broken him from his state and he quickly contacted the medical staff in the med bay, explaining the situating as he watches his big brother trying to save their childhood friend…he followed Seto to the elevator and remained silent as they made their way down…rushing down the hallway and reaching the medical facility where the doctors and nurse were waiting with a gurney. The tall brunet lays her down quickly before he is shoved away, the staff members rolling her into the med bay, the doors closing behind them as they get to work on trying to save the girl…

 

Back on deck…everyone had been too shocked to move or do anything…Téa had tried to shield Serenity from the violence, turning the girl away from the scene…Tristian and Duke had no idea what to do either…Marik had returned to the platform and sent Mai’s soul to the shadow realm, imprisoning it to slowly be devoured by the shadows…he then left to go clean himself up…

 

By now Yami had started to come to, groaning as he sat up and looked around at his friends…the shocked and bleak look on their faces was a tell-tale sign that something had happened…Joey helped him stand as the platform lowered, giving the spirit a horrifying scene on the lower level…blood splattered around and the large pool of it…Yami looked at his friends but they didn’t say anything…

 

Yugi was relieved when the pharaoh had woken up but was confused when he noticed that no one was talking to them…a sense of dread filling both teens when they caught sight of carnage…and realizing that 3 members from before was no longer there…where was the Kaiba’s and his sister?

 

Seto just kept staring at the door trying to listen to what was going on inside as he heard the doctors yelling at the nurses…a heart monitor being turned on…

 

Inside his mind he was slowly shutting down…trying to come to terms about what had happened…Mokuba stood beside his brother, looking up at him before gripping his white coat to try and grab his attention but got nothing. He could see the turmoil that was raging inside his brothers mind but the younger Kaiba didn’t have time to help his brother any further as he heard his friends approaching…Yugi asking where his sister was…

 

Seto didn’t answer, turning his gaze to his hand that were covered in blood…Lillian’s blood…the girl he loved…the woman was probably fighting for her life inside the room before him. He wasn’t even aware of the people that were talking to him. The only thing he kept hearing was Lillian’s last words to him before she slipped into unconsciousness. He turned and slowly headed to his room, needing to wash the blood off. Joey tried to yell at him for ignore them but Mokuba stops him and shakes his head at the blond teen, Wheeler can see the sorrow in the boy’s eyes…

 

Yugi looks at Mokuba for answers as a tear runs down his cheek, Yami standing beside transparently, a wave of guilt slowly to creep inside him…

 

Mokuba was trying his best to keep his emotions in check, his voice strained as he explained to Yugi what had happened after he had taken the blast from Ra, “Marik was going to try and hurt you but…Lillian stopped him…she was going to throw him over the railing but…she lost focus and he…” his lower lip quivered as Yugi listened, a shudder running through him, “…I’m sorry Yugi but…” he couldn’t finish his sentence as the flood gates broke, grief and worry for his friend taking over as he started to sob.

 

The realization was like a punch to the gut as he covers his mouth with his hand, “N…no…no…” he looked at his friends, hoping that what Mokuba was saying wasn’t true but all their expressions said the same thing, Marik had tried to kill his sister after she tried to protect him and Yami…and there was a chance that he had succeeded in ending her for good.

 

Yugi slowly broke down, the flood gates bursting as tears streamed down his cheeks, wrapping his arms around Mokuba, holding the younger boy as they both cried…Joey and Serenity is the next to join the embrace, followed by Duke and Tristian and finally Téa…the group of friends holding the two smallest members.

 

Seto reached his room and stepped inside, not bothering to turn on the lights as he removed his coat and tossed it aside without a care. He stepped into the bathroom and turned the hot water on in the sick, scrubbing the blood from his hands till his skin was red and raw…the images of Lillian playing over and over again in his mind…her words ringing in his ears. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, noting the bloody hand print on his cheek…he raised his hand to his skin…the picture of her pale face and weak smile before her eyes closed…he slowly closed his hand into a fist…

 

“I-I l-love you…”

 

He punches the mirror as he lets out a yell, shattering the glass and cutting his knuckles, his reflection distorting as he shakes…he sinks to his knees and holds his head, letting himself cry in his solitude…letting his emotions overwhelm him for a moment as he tries to come to grips with the fact that he was going to lose Lillian.

 

The doctors had set up the room as an operating room when they got the word from Mokuba that someone had been fatally wounded…they had started working immediately, knowing they would need to open her up to start repairing the damage but…they had run into a problem…

 

Rozu watches from the shadows…how pathetic that the once mighty queen of the sea was reduced to this…the wicked woman knew she would probably need to look for a new host soon…

 

Seto soon returned, Yugi and his friends were sitting in the area waiting for any news from the doctor. Mokuba looked up at his brother and ran over to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. The brunet rested his hand on top of his brother’s head and shoulders, trying to sooth him as he looks at the others. He wanted to ask how they were holding up when the doctor steps out of the room, “Mr. Kaiba…”

 

Everyone stood up as the tall teen looked at the doctor, “How is she?” the doctor signs softy, “We’ve stopped the bleeding and can fix most of the damage but…there’s a problem.” Yugi steps forward, “What is it? What’s wrong with my sister?” the man looks at the teen before clearing his throat, “She’s lost a lot of blood…even if we can repair everything, she won’t make it if we can’t get her a blood transfusion…even if we try and return to Domino city we are hours away and she won’t last that long…I’m sorry sir.”

 

Seto, Mokuba and Yugi’s hearts dropped…this couldn’t be happening…there was no way to help her…Mokuba clung to his brother tightly as Yugi’s friends approached the short teen to try and comfort him, Yami resting his hand on his partners shoulder, ~I’m sorry Aibou…~ Yugi looked at him and wished for nothing more than to cling to the spirit and ask him to take the pain away…to make this day go away…to turn back time and to stop any of this from happening.

 

Seto was just silent as he held Mokuba, completely shut off from reality at this point…

 

“I’m sorry for your lose…we’ll patch her up as best we can and then…you can come say your goodbyes…” the doctor turns to leave but Serenity speaks up, “Doctor wait.” He stops and turns to the young girl, “If she needs blood…can’t one of us donate some? Just enough to ensure she survives…”

 

Everyone looks at the girl, her brother shocked that she would suggest something like that before turning his attention back to the doctor. The man thinks it over before nodding, “It is possible…but we would need to find a match…” Serenity then steps forward and holds out her arm, “Then test mine…” Joey rests his hand on her shoulder, “Are ya serious?” she nods, “I’m sure…you said that she saved you from drowning…this is the least I can do to say thank you for saving my brother.” She says with a smile.

 

The other teens look at each other before Joey holds out his arm too, “Den test me too.”

 

“And me.” Téa says as she holds out her arm, “Us too.” Duke and Tristian say together as they held out their arms. Yugi looks at his friends in shock and starts to tear up for a whole other reason, “You guys…” they looked at him with smiles on their face, “She’s our friend too and she’s your sister…that’s what friends are for.” He sobs softly at their words.

 

Seto turns to the doctor, “Get them tested as fast as you can, we don’t have time to waste. Mokuba and I are both 0 positive.” The doctor nods and is about to leave when he sees Roland and his other assistant approaching, having over heard the conversation. The two men holding out their arms too.

 

Kaiba looks at them confused before Roland speaks up, “Ms Muto and Mr. Muto saved my life sir…this is the least we can do.” The brunet nods as a few nurses arrive to start taking blood samples.

 

While everyone was getting blood drawn Seto left for his duel. There was nothing he could do now as they needed to wait for the tests to be done. He needed to keep his mind off of what happened and needed to focus on what he would do once he gets his hands on Marik…he was going to hang him with his own intestines while cutting out his heart and feeding it to him while he chokes on his own blood.

 

Téa sees the older Kaiba leaving; his little brother staying with the others…the girl felt a little bad for the guy. Sure he has been a jerk to them in the past and is still technically being jerk still but he was still hurting, he had suffered just as much as they all had…and now he was going off alone…

 

She turned to Joey and Tristian, telling them that they should go support Seto. When asked why, Téa said that he doesn’t have anyone to support him and he shouldn’t be alone during a time like this…and that she would burn Joey’s deck if he didn’t go. The boys took her threat to heart (well Joey did). They headed up to the top deck once they were done getting their blood drawn.

 

The deck had been quickly cleaned after what happened but Seto could still see the blood and his beloved there in his mind. He got onto the platform and waited for his opponent to arrive…who turned out to be Ishizu which was just making Seto’s anger even worse. How dare she take part in this after she was the one that had suggested this stupid tournament to begin with…(even though Seto was internally blaming himself for everything that had happened.) But he couldn’t focus on that now, he needed to defeat her so that he could face Marik and absolutely obliterate him…

 

He was surprised when Joey and Tristan arrived and started cheering him on. He didn’t need them there, he didn’t need anyone right now he needed to focus…but as he was duelling he kept seeing Lillian standing before him, blood everywhere…her dead eyes staring into his soul as she asked him why he let her die…he couldn’t focus on the duel and was making stupid mistakes, not seeing Ishizu’s trap…and things only got worse when Marik arrived and started throwing insults…

 

Something happened to him that never happened before…he started getting a panic attack…breathing heavily as his mind became overwhelmed by emotions and grief…everything that had happened in the past few weeks were just too much and behind it all he could hear his step-father laughing at him…

 

However…something strange occurred…the Millennium Rob activated and Seto felt his mind being pulled away…images flashing before his eyes…images of the past…images of the present…and then…

 

He found himself in his home office but it looked…different. He had kept it the same as his step-father had kept it, all though he had gotten rid of many of the things since moving in. But this…the walls were painted a blue colour, the dark wood bookshelves where replaced with white wood ones as well as his desk…the old books were replaced with figurines, awards and even photo frames…one of them looked like from a wedding…

 

But before he could get a closer look, the door opened and a little girl with brown hair, blue eyes and pale skin enters the room. She had to be around 4 or 5 and was dressed in a blue flower dress, hugging a Blue Eyes White Dragon plush. Her hair was tied in pigtails with blue ribbons…she had the sweetest little face with a few freckles on her upper cheeks and nose…

 

She looked so…familiar…he watches as the little girl giggles and runs over to the desk, hiding underneath. The tall brunet is confused for a moment before an older version of himself enters the room…he is wearing slacks and a white turtle neck sweater. He has a…smile on his face?

 

He looked around the office before noticing the child under his desk, playing dumb he starts to search the room, “I know where are you little spit fire?” the little girl tries to muffle a giggle as the other Seto approaches the desk, walking behind it before quickly kneeling down and grabbing the girl, the child squealing as he lifts her up and tickles her sides making her laugh, “Gotcha!” he smirks as she squirms and giggles happily, “Stop dada!” she kicks her little legs as the other Seto keeps playing with her before holding the child to his chest, smiling down at her.

 

‘What was going on? Who was the child? Was she…’ Seto thought to himself as he watched his other self and the girl…a moment later someone else steps into the room that takes Kaiba’s breath away…it was Lillian. her hair looked different, it was turquoise with purple tips, she was dressed in a long blue dress…her Blue eyes necklace around her neck and a matching ring on her finger…and her belly was rounded…she was pregnant??

 

She smiled as she walked over to the other Seto and kissed his cheek, “So is this where you two ran off to?” she smiled as she fixed the little girls dress before the child jumped into her arms, “Mama!” she giggles as she snuggles into Lilian’s arms. The other Seto shrugs and smiles as he wraps his arms around them both, “She wanted to play. What can I say? I can never say no to our little princess.” He ruffled the girls hair before resting his hand on Lillian’s pregnant belly, “And I’m sure this one will had us wrapped around his finger too.” Lillian shook her head and smiled as she looked at her husband lovingly, “I love you.”

 

The little girl looked at Seto, the resemblance now very clear…whatever this hallucination or vision was…one thing was clear…this was his daughter…this was his family…this was his future…

 

Seto found himself back on the platform with Ishizu…he reached into his pocket and pulled out Lillian’s necklace…starting at the pendant and thinking about her and the little girl he had seen in his vision…

 

He closed his fingers around the pendant…his fight returned and his determination restored, knowing that this was his future and he needed to fight for it…

[vampxrebarbie]

i have. a lot of guardians. lemme just....

luke: guy would take one look at future!him dancing off the edge of a cliff listening to Queen and go "ohhhhhh so THATS what my adhd is like unmedicated." (and he would then join in the dancing, forcing future!luke to stop dancing to prevent the not-so-immortal!luke from also dancing off a cliff). theyd get along well, and he'd probably admire who he becomes.

nikon: pre-risen!nikon was, hysterically, kind of a fuckboy frat dude. but like, one of endearing kinds, yknow? total jock. stands to reason he'd think it's BALLER that after he dies he comes back as this total badass who (technically) dodged death not once but TWICE, and also now leads an ENTIRE TEAM OF BADASSES, DUDE. (guardian!nik, otoh, would be begging for an ogre to reduce him to paste until this cringe-y nightmare of a mirror image is gone)

kel: please this would be a despair feedback loop. if it's not pre-risen!kel experiencing raw unfiltered horror at the knowledge he, with all his top-class soldier abilities, fails to save his wife and daughter in the collapse, then its risen!kel re-experiencing the all-consuming self-loathing and guilt of having failed to do so from the reminder literally staring him in the face. pre-risen!kel would loath risen!kel, to boot--kel is a mess of repressed emotions and stoic self-control, and his past self wouldnt be able to understand how he can be so aloof. (nvm the fact he's so reserved specifically bc otherwise his emotions eat him alive from the inside.)

gil-23: error 404 does not compute. on either end of the spectrum. pre!exo gil would refuse to believe against all evidence staring him in the face that he would ever become this...machine thing. willingly or unwillingly. (and gil-23 has been through so many resets and is so old and divorced from not only the gil that came before being risen but also the pre-exo gil that he could not fathom them being the same person bc he hardly considers himself a 'person' anymore)

nyx-14: ARTSY TYPES UNITE. pre-exo nyx is an adventurous photographer and risen!nyx remains an adventurer at heart. once past the "wait, im a ROBOT now?!" hurdle (followed immediately by "AWESOME"), they'd get along like white on rice and would probably become prankster menaces to the rest of fireteam ward.

roland: much like kel, just with less despair and a metric fuckton more rage and hate. pre-risen!roland was actually a sweetheart and well-liked by most people in his social circles--fast forward, and now he's become a bitter, cynical, abrasive social recluse (reluctantly being drawn out of his shell aside). they would fucking detest one another for exact opposite reasons. (ironically, this would reveal that pre-risen!roland has the same temperament at his core, and is simply much more well-adjusted in contrast)

ash: pre-risen!ash is such a sweet girl who would be HORRIFIED at the vicious little violence-happy spitfire she's been resurrected into.

finn: once a gender-dysphoric tomboy suffering through college trying to explain their eagerness for bulking up as "purely self-defence", now a 6ft butch enby titan capable of clearing entire fields of enemies in the span of a single fist of havok. past and future finn would be chilling over some beers easy.

adebole: pompous asshole then, pompous asshole now. ironically, risen!adebole would consider pre-risen!adebole an absolute aggravating embarassment he'd avoid being around at all costs despite having the exact same temperament and interests.

darin-8: he has a bar to run. bring him a philosophical question like this and he'll ask how many drinks he has to offer you on the house for you to not bother him with this shit again. he was an utter bastard before becoming an exo and wound up killing himself in a Despair Event Horizon before then being risen, and he doesnt like thinking about Any Of That before taking into consideration being taken off active duty after his ghost's death. (given the opportunity, darin would beat his past self to a pulp before the man could even form an opinion of his future self.)

discussed this with friends, but thought I'd throw the question at Tumblr folks too!

if your Guardian-pre-being-Risen met themselves as a Lightbearer now, what would they think? would they like or hate that new version of themselves, admire or fear it, etc?

[swynlake-rp]

"I'm not sleepy. I'm hungry."

FULL NAME: Roland Doyle BASED ON: Rolly (101 Dalmatians) FACE CLAIM: Matty Matheson PRONOUNS: He/him BIRTHDAY: September 12th, 1999 CURRENT STATUS: Taken

Character Information

Roland Doyle isn’t just a chef. He’s a movement. A culinary force of nature with a personality louder than a chainsaw at a punk concert and a laugh that could shake the walls of a cathedral. Big, bold, tattooed from his knuckles to his toes, and with the kind of charm that could make your grandma blush, Roland is living proof that you can’t keep a good werewolf down. Hell that is exactly what is wiki page says too! Yeah go check it out! 

Life wasn’t always this fabulous, though. There was that whole band fiasco, remember? Yeah, that band - the one that blew up faster than a deep fryer at a county fair. Roland was the beating heart behind the bass, the soul of the music, or at least, that’s how he saw it. But fate, that twisted little shit, had other plans. The spotlight? It didn’t shine on him. No, it found his brother, Lucky, the golden boy who could just exist and people would swoon. Lucky didn’t earn it like Roland did. He didn’t fight for it. It was like the universe just handed it to him on a silver platter, and Roland? He was left gnawing on the scraps.

But Roland Doyle doesn’t do scraps.

So, fueled by equal parts jealousy and an unhealthy amount of tequila, Roland did what any self-respecting, slightly unhinged guy would do…he found himself a back-alley sorcerer. The kind of guy who smells like wet dog and bad decisions. One curse later, Lucky’s golden glow dimmed, and Roland was ready to step into the light. Only, things didn’t exactly go as planned. The band imploded, the secrets got buried, and Roland? Well, he was left with nothing but his ego and a hell of a lot of free time.

But here’s where it gets good.

Roland, never one to sit in the shadows for long, decided if he couldn’t have the spotlight on stage, he’d take it to the kitchen. And not just any kitchen….his kitchen. He fired up his phone, opened an OnlyFans (because, let’s be real, people will pay for anything these days), and started cooking like his life depended on it. Shirtless, tattooed, and swearing like a sailor with a stubbed toe, Roland whipped up dishes with the same reckless abandon he brought to the bass. He knew the cooking part would at least make his granny proud right! Half of these damn recipes were hers after all! 

And people loved it!!!!!!

Turns out, the internet can’t get enough of a foul-mouthed, tattooed werewolf screaming about the importance of butter temperature while flipping pancakes at 2 AM. His TikTok, OF, and hell you name it blew up faster than the band ever did. One day he’s making risotto while ranting about exes, the next he’s teaching people how to properly sear a steak while blasting punk rock in the background. His OnlyFans? It’s not just for the food, if you catch my drift. The man’s got a fanbase that’s equal parts foodies and people just thirsting over those tattoos and that chaotic energy. Plus all he has to do is hash tag the bands name and those old fans come running too! 

Roland’s life? Fabulous. Ladies on his arms, tattoos on his skin, and a bank account that’s looking real healthy, thank you very much. He’s got brands reaching out, collaborations in the works, and a cooking show that’s just waiting for him to give the green light. He’s not just a chef; he’s a damn star.

But there’s one thing still nagging at him. One tiny little itch he can’t scratch.

Lucky.😡

Because no matter how many followers he’s got, no matter how many Michelin-star chefs slide into his DMs asking for collabs, there’s still that unresolved thing with his brother. Roland doesn’t need the band. Hell no. But he does need that apology. Lucky needs to own up - to the fallout, to all of it. Roland’s moved on, sure, but his pride? That beast is hungry, and it won’t be satisfied until Lucky admits he wasn’t the only one who screwed up.

So, here he is, strutting into Swynlake with his head held high, a fresh set of knives in his bag, and a following that would make influencers weep. He’s got a cooking gig lined up that’s going to catapult him to even bigger fame, he can hear the James Beard nominations now but first? He’s heading straight to Lucky’s little cinema, standing on those steps, waiting for that damn apology.

And maybe, just maybe, he’ll swing by to see what Pepper’s up to. Not because he misses her or anything. Just, you know… to casually remind her how well he’s doing. Rub it in a little.

Because Roland Doyle? He’s not just surviving. He’s thriving. And the world better be ready for the chaos he’s about to unleash.

✓ Ambitious, creative, passionate

✖ Selfish, temperamental, envious

Character Suggestions:

Is part of a set of triplets, so FCs fitting mid-twenties age range.

Plus size

Current Relationships

Lucian 'Lucky' Doyle (brother)

Phoebe 'Pepper' Doyle (sister)

Possible Relationships

Click here

Magical Abilities

Werewolf

[rumiraclemi]

haha holy Shit (my general rambling about the whole episode, spoilers for BitB ep 1)

horror master dm charlie fucking strikes again oh my God. okay first of all this is just, such an interesting setting and set up, a group of old friends meeting up to play dnd?? lmao guys ok. but already there’s just, you can tell that there’s so much that’s happened behind the scenes, i’m REALLY interested in the beef between roland and rand they’re playing with. rand being pissy about roland leaving them all behind, even though it’s obvious something Fucked Up happened that made him feel like he had to get out of there. the little like references they made to stuff in the past, rand’s sister dying as a kid, the horde of dead bodies roland saw in the water by the tree, i’m fascinated. i’m also wondering what kinda effect rand staying in town this whole time while the others were gone had on his psyche. like at least the others got out, but rand’s been here, in the middle of this, for Years. idk how CoC works so i dont really know all this sanity stuff, but the way charlie sounded So concerned when he told him his score says a Lot. and we don’t really have much on kian yet, grizzly playing him as the guy in the horror movie who never sees the shit going down and is just in denial is so fucking funny? like my mental notes on him are: 1.) no parents? or, maybe his parents are involved in some weird shit? he made up his own last name and i think came from a weird part of town. and 2.) MILF enjoyer. 👍 the characters are already so fascinating, but of course charlie delivers with the SPOOKS, like the first real thing they see, the birds falling on the car, and the way he shifts his voice when he describes stuff, hooooo man. and after, when they find (what remains of) rat, like just. “he’s merely a smear on the wall” “through his skin you can see his heart beating” “you watch as his heartbeat speeds up and his heart melts in front of you. his head falls to the side and he lays there, dead”. bRO. rand staying there with him, trying to comfort him, he wants to go and get help, but he already knows there’s no helping him. man. the whole thing at rand’s place with his parents and the weed was funny and all, but i got legitimate shivers when charlie described the show on tv, a character is beating another to death with a rock splattering blood everywhere, and you Feel a little something splash onto your face before you shut the tv off. roland experiences this Nightmare while kian is [redacted] upstairs. and of course they end up in a nasty crash (noticing a trend of letting the Worst driver in a group be the designated driver and immediately suffering those consequences, Hard.) when the back end of the car was crushed up against something invisible, fleshy, and Beating. bro i full-body shivered and fucking Giggled. i am SO into this you don’t even KNOW the reveal at the end... i’m so fucking intrigued i’m curious i wanna know NOW. (though it’s really funny, hearing charlie react to whatever rolls he did i do Not think they were supposed to know this early LMAO.) with the officer from earlier it sounds like a good number of people from the town are in on this, but also. what are the people of the town?? rat’s dead, rand’s sister is dead. are they all dead? being replaced by, something? how far has it gone already? and if there’s already a barrier like this around the town, whatever’s doing this is fucking powerful. how much of a chance do our characters really even have? (<- i say this affectionately, i know they’re going to fuck things up on an eldritch scale and i’m fucking Here for it)

hehehe i’m so fucking excited, this is gonna be a legendary miniseries. reminding myself it’s only 4 episodes makes me sad, but i am Eagerly looking forward to what they do with this.

[timothylawrence]

I love how you write the original BL crew. I’d love to see some shenanigans with them if you feel up to writing it! :)

YEASSS i love the BL1 gang :) i was so happy to get this req LOL! I went against my grain and wrote some sweet fluffy stuff for them, takes place between BL1 and BL2 hehe :)!!

Roland knows exactly what day it is. He’s ignored it as often as he can and pretended it didn’t really exist to his best ability. He wouldn’t say the date was particularly loathsome, at least not after the hell of a life he’s lived through, but rather that he didn’t want to care about it.

But he did. That seemed to be Roland’s thing recently. 

He wanted people to remember his birthday. Even if he pretended he didn’t.

There was something about his current rag-tag group of friends that made him almost… excited for the day. 

Well, his excitement is met the moment Roland steps out of his bathroom, still in his sweats and face freshly washed. 

His eyes lock onto the fiery red hair of his lover and he finds himself more focused on the object in her palms.

“You thought I forgot!” She cries out, grinning in a way that makes Roland’s heart flutter. 

His eyes land on the singular cupcake, resting between her palms. It’s vanilla, or at least Pandora’s equivalent of it, with bright blue frosting and a singular candle that looks a little too dangerous to be lit so close to his face. 

“I didn’t,” He replies, quiet and fighting a smile. “I just pretended to.” 

Lilith laughs, nudging her palms closer. “C’mon, try it!” She encourages, stepping closer. “Brick helped me make it!” 

Roland laughs, taking the dessert from her hand in one palm as his other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer. “I know better than to eat something you’ve made.” 

She lets out a feigned cry, jaw hanging. It’s the perfect opportunity to place his lips right between her eyes.

Her face is nearly as bright as her hair by the time Roland leans back. It’s as adorable as ever. 

“Now, I can have a bite,” He announces, biting into the dessert without another beat of hesitation. It’s delicious, a signature of Brick’s cooking, and Roland can’t help his hum. 

“Where is this man?” He asks, chewing as he lowers the sweet to Lilith. “Have a bite.” 

“Oh, who’s oven do you think Brick used?” Lilith asks, grinning as she chews. “This is the twelth attempt. The first eleven were probably dangerous for consumption.”

A bang erupts on the other side of Roland’s bedroom door and it’s all he needs to know exactly what he’d missed in his morning shower. He shakes his head, setting the cupcake down into Lilith’s palms, ignoring her laughing protest as he stalks out of the bedroom and to the rest of his living quarters. 

He’s greeted by the only other two people who have even entered his home before and it makes Roland smile.

“Oh shit,” Brick starts, loud as always. His grin is nearly blinding. “Happy Birthday, Roland!”  

He’s dressed in an apron, holding a tray of very, very, burnt cupcakes, the seam of the apron already ripping against his large frame. 

It’s comedic, but sweet. Mordecai stands beside him, Roland just barely catching the way his palm drops off Brick’s arm. His other palm holds a spatula and the dough on his cheek seems to be unnoticed by him. 

“There he is!” Mordecai cries, smiling, “How’s turnin’ fifty?”

Roland raises a brow. “Not all of us are as old as you are,” He shoots back, grinning. “Is it really a birthday gift if you two nearly blow up my kitchen?” 

“Hey, Lilith is good at fire control,” Mordecai replies, setting the spatula down as his eyes lock on the woman now standing beside Roland, licking her finger. “Did you eat his cupcake!?”

“We have more!” She cries back, shaking her head. “Besides, he gave it to me.” 

Roland laughs, his hand on her lower back as he looks at the duo across from him, Brick already setting down a new batch of cupcakes onto the small, cramped table in the kitchen. 

“Well come on, dive in, birthday boy!” He starts, loud as always with a big grin, “I got another batch comin’!” 

Roland’s lead forward through their laughter, his eyes wrinkling with joy. 

[witchysethharper]

Seth slowly turned to Shade as his friend and ex didn't take the hint to shut up. It was always a 50/50 shot that the cambion could bring heaven or hell with his mouth and no doubt this instance would be hell. Although it wasn't so much hell for Seth as he sat there, wide-eyed, absent-mindedly picking at whatever food was on his plate while a distinct rush of heat flooded through his core. Well, shit. He'd been hesitant on sleeping with Shade after all this because of their status as exes and Seth knowing sex would make it harder for him to get over Shade emotionally. That was no longer a problem as the more Shade tore into the men across from them, the more aroused Seth became. Maybe Shade could put him in his place next.

Nothing that Shade spewed at Roland and Rhys was wrong in the witch's opinion. He might work for them, might've been claimed by one who bought him his freedom, but Seth wasn't an idiot. He knew why the world was the way it was because the grand old fucking Vampire Council of the highest order of pricks didn't give a shit about anyone but themselves. This castle wouldn't exist if it weren't for Roland –– who may not have held his seat at the time but sure as fuck didn't mind taking over for his country –– and the rest of the council believing enslaving other species all as part of a power move to brag for the rest of the time after the Second War. If it weren't for Roland and the rest of the council, Seth and Shade wouldn't have spent years as slaves themselves in this goddamned place.

Something that Rhys seemed to so conveniently forget the more time he spent with Roland fucking those memories and brains out.

His gaze followed Shade as he left the table before he turned to Rhys while Roland went after the cambion. His eyes narrowed at the muzzle comment made in extremely poor taste and he glared after Rhys as he too exited the restaurant. That anger rolled in his gut like thunder before a storm, one that might not hit with his priorities on distracting Shade with that promise of sex. Seth carefully pushed himself to his feet, that tequila affecting his balance now that he was standing, and headed to the bar to intercept Shade before he chased after Roland. He tried –– tried –– to let it all go. A bigger, more mature person would ignore Roland's childish response and threats and convince Shade to do the same... and that person left the building the second Roland spat stupid pet his way in reference to Shade.

There was a beat of silence once Roland passed him on the way to the door. Seth caught Shade's gaze for a split second, the look on his face all but urging the mouthy cambion to shut the fuck up because Seth had shit to say now. He clenched his fists tightly at his sides, shoulders hunched, and jaw so tight the cambion could probably hear his molars grinding together barely 100 feet away from each other. The rush of rage provided a temporary sobriety against his buzz and that thunder from within manifested outside in the clear evening skies. Rain hadn't been in the forecast for today but neither had Seth's temper. His blue eyes turned a glowing, fiery red and lightning flashed bright through the window of Cannabites before the skies outside opened up a downpour of heavy rain that would more than likely soak through the two men's clothing in seconds.

The witch spun on his heel and stormed off after Roland, violently throwing open the restaurant door. "Hey, Princess Cuntbag," he shouted at the councilman mostly because he was pissed and partly to be heard over the weather. "Your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth. Go back to the castle where your threats might mean something more up there. And you," he turned on Rhys, eyes narrowed into slits. "I'd tell you to get a muzzle for your councilman, but he's not the one wearing the collar in whatever your relationship is, is he? If genius skips a generation both your children will be fucking brilliant." He headed back inside Cannabites, leaning out of the doorway for just one more word. "Don't expect me at work tomorrow." And with that, he slammed the door so hard the walls shook from the bang.

Seth stood there for a beat as the last of his aggravation washed away and he recomposed himself. The storm still continued outside and he hoped it inconvenienced both men getting back to the castle. He walked back to the bar like he hadn't just caused a public scene and sat down, pushing the wet strands of hair back off his face. "We should probably consider talking to Valentine about a restraining order against Rogaine," he said, perfectly calm now. He grabbed a napkin so that he could dry off his glasses from the rain. "Sorry about that."

@shadedempsey

"Naw, that wasn't what I was gonna say." Shade was never one to keep his thoughts to himself or play nice. It's why he stayed in the kitchen save for those rare occasions, though there were two glaring problems in this situation. One, he didn't like either of the men across from him and two, which was the more significant of them, neither were paying for him to play nice. His eyes fell to Rhys as he got real candid, real quick. "You can play whatever bullshit you want. Suck a dick on a mass murder and act like he can change or you can forget he's part of this shit and you are too. Promoting slavery workin here like you want, some fucking joke ass chump, and talk down to me cause I'm not some boot lickin simp that caters to these pompous bitches. Just cause you got his balls bouncin off your chin every night and your too busy gaggin on his dick to see what the fuck he is don't mean I don't. So don't fuckin come into my god damn place thinkin your some hot shit with your fuck boy here who likes to enslave motherfuckers."

Shade shifted his ire to Roland. "What's happened between Seth and I at any given time ain't any of your fuckin business, it never will be at any fuckin point. You got your little fuck toy. Live out whatever bullshit I got too much time on my hands and I'm bored, but too scared to fuckin die bullshit you have to. We ain't gotta be apart of it. Seth ain't sorry. I'll never be sorry for anything other than someone decided you were worthy eternity. You wanna run your mouth to someone go to the undercroft, I ain't on your payroll fucktard. Go eat your boys ass, cause it's the only thing on the mother fucking menu for you tonight cause your bullshit passive aggressive shit is for fucking five year olds and I ain't playing this for another five fucking minutes. Fucking christ!"

The cambion took down his drink and clicked his tongue in annoyance at everyone just ready for a brawl now as he roughly got up from the table needing another drink and heading for the bar to make himself one. He grabbed a blunt that was rolled and waiting for him cause he damn well knew it was only a matter of time till he snapped granted he thought they'd make it through at least two or three courses. Fuck if he could make it through one. He lit it still muttering angrily to himself in a mix of profanity and rant as he did a shot and started on a new drink for him and Seth.

@rhysdasior

[m-o-o-n-thatspellsblog]

The Drawing of the Fool- Part 2/2

Summary: Years after renouncing the Dark Tower, the ka-tet of the 19, now living as a true family, comes across another door. Fearing a resurgence of Tower business, the group grows apprehensive. Roland Deschain, their Dinh--their father--grows excited. It seems renouncing the Tower in favor of love is not without reward, after all.

Word Count: 8,811

Relationships: Roland/Cuthbert, Eddie/Susannah, Jake/Benny

AO3 LINK

It was still mostly dark when Cuthbert decided to get up. He had lay awake for most of the night, unable to quiet his mind long enough to fully rest. He considered waking Roland, but only for a moment. He appeared to be deeply asleep and Cuthbert didn’t want to disturb him. After all, he wasn’t the only one who’d had trouble sleeping. He heard Roland groaning a while ago, almost as if he was in great pain. However, whatever nightmare he’d been having seemed to have passed, and Cuthbert would not be the one to deprive Roland of repose. 

On his way over, he heard some light scratching sounds. He turned and saw Eddie sitting on a log with his back to him. He was crouched over something and seemed to be in deep concentration. Cuthbert made his way over, intentionally stepping on some twigs to alert Eddie to his presence. He didn’t want to scare the shit out of him; he really wanted to be on good terms with these people. 

“If you cut a finger off, at least you’d be in fellowship with Roland and me,” Cuthbert said, holding up his right hand. “In fact, you should cut off two so you’ll be even with us.”

Instead, he decided to walk down to where the others were camped and see if any of them were awake. Although he didn’t know them very well, it was his nature to prefer company over solitude. And they seemed like nice company. Much nicer than he perhaps deserved.

“You’re going to strain your eyes doing that in the dark.”

“Maybe I should go for three. That way I can hold it over your heads: ‘You think you guys got it hard losing a mere two fingers? Try losing three!’”

“I should think I’d still have you beat, having lost an eye and all,” Cuthbert said with a laugh and then gestured at the log Eddie was sitting on. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Go for it,” Eddie said with a shrug. He went back to his whittling and it was quiet for a moment. Of course, that couldn’t last long because a distaste for silence was in both of their natures. Once the quiet got to be too loud, Eddie spoke. “So,” he started, “have you decided what you’re going to do? Like, do you think you might stay with us for a while? Or are you still going after the Tower?”

Eddie looked up from his whittling and smiled. “Eh, it’s light enough.” 

Cuthbert thought for a moment. In truth, he hadn’t given it much consideration. He’d spent most of the night reflecting on the stories they told and trying to ignore the quandary over his own future. “Well, I can say I’ve lost my taste for the Tower. I don’t suppose I could persist knowing that anything I do would be pointless. Though, it’s just as difficult to imagine myself conceding.”

“Why so difficult?” Eddie kept his voice only mildly curious; he didn’t want Cuthbert to think he was prying. It was easy enough to understand why it might be difficult for Cuthbert to fathom giving up the Tower, but he wanted to keep him talking. A few thoughts had occurred to him since their palaver yesterday. 

“I’ve lost so much on this journey, say delah. Not only that, but I’ve changed. I’ve become cold, heartless, and I’ve crossed moral boundaries that I never thought I would. Boundaries that I never thought I’d even be capable of crossing.” He looked skyward and sighed. That sigh, paired with his look of anguish, told Eddie everything he needed to know about Cuthbert’s current perception of himself. He thought himself abhorrent for the things he’d done. Roland certainly hadn’t been proud of his own unethical actions, but Eddie didn’t think he’d ever seen a look quite like this on his face. Cuthbert continued, “It was one thing knowing that there was a purpose, that the outcome was well worth the sacrifices, but for it to all have been for nothing…” He trailed off, putting his face in his hands. “I sold my own soul. And what a bargain it was--I sold it for nothing.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t think it was for nothing. I might have a theory about that. Can I ask you a question?” Eddie asked, thinking of chickens, spiders, and a barn. For it was Cuthbert that Stephen King remembered from his childhood. He’d also recognized his savior as Eddie because of their twin-like similarities (mirrored souls--dig the concept), but it was Cuthbert he thought of first.

“Aye, as you will.” Cuthbert sounded resigned, as if he truly didn’t believe that any theory Eddie may have could justify what he’d done. Eddie hoped he could prove Cuthbert wrong.

“In your wanderings, did you ever come across a little boy in a barn?” Eddie asked, placing his current whittling project to the side. “Or perhaps, did you save this boy from a flood of red spiders? He would’ve been…ah, I want to say 7 years old, if my memory serves. Black hair, blue eyes, thick glasses. Any of this ring a bell?”

Cuthbert lifted his face from his hands, astonished. “That sounds exactly like a dream I once had. Just before finding Jake at the Way Station, that was.”

“That was no dream,” Eddie said. He had to stop himself from jumping up and down with excitement. If that happened right before he met Jake, then it was this specific version of Cuthbert who had saved Stephen King’s life when he was a boy. This meant that he’d had a part to play in their quest, and he had played it well. He was truly ka-tet, one from many. They had already unknowingly been bound together by the purpose of their quest. “That was todash, baby! You really saved that kid’s life. Didn’t you hear the chimes?”

“At the time, I thought I heard something… but nay, it couldn’t have been the kammen. I was in possession of nary a Bend o’ the Bow. Nor did I have a door or any intention of going todash.”

“You may not have had the glass, but the man you were following had the Black Thirteen. It must have reached out to you while you slept, like it did for Jake and me, and it sent you to Keystone Earth.”

“Alright, so I went todash and saved a little boy,” Cuthbert said indulgently. “What is the significance? I mean, I understand that saving a child is a good deed, but it certainly doesn’t make up for all of the atrocities I’ve committed in the name of the Tower.”

“That little boy was Stephen King, the writer whose life we saved in the year of 1999. If you hadn’t saved him, he would’ve become an agent of the Red King--his pet writer. Our quest would’ve been over before it even had a fair chance to begin. You helped save the Tower, that’s what it was all for.”

“Do you really say so?” Could it be true that he helped save the Tower without being aware of it? That all of his actions had led him to where he needed to be, that it wasn’t without purpose after all?

“I do and I say true. You’re one of us. And I don’t want to hear one word about how you don’t deserve it; ka wouldn’t have placed you here if it wasn’t where you belonged. Every single one of us has done things we’re not proud of. If you feel unworthy now, then this is your chance at redemption. Your chance to choose love over obsession.”

“I’d like to join up with ye, in fact, I’d like nothing more. I’d do well not to let Roland out of my sight again. But how can I look Jake in the eye knowing that the last time I saw him, I let him fall to his death?”

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, that’s not exactly Jake’s favorite memory. But he forgave Roland, and in this world, Roland is the one who let him drop. Water under the bridge, I’d say. If you want to talk about it with him, he’d probably be willing. But it might be best to let sleeping dogs lie. He really doesn’t like to talk about it.”

"Doesn't like to talk about what?" Jake called as he emerged from the trees with Oy at his heels.

"Oh, hey Jake! I was just telling Cuthbert here how much you hate it when I mention your annoying habit of butting into my conversations."

Jake made his way over to where they were seated and showed Eddie his middle finger. Cuthbert had never seen this gesture before, but he guessed from Eddie's exaggerated offended gasp that it wasn't a gesture of good will. Good humor though, as it seemed they were both stifling laughter. "Johnathan Jake Chambers, I'm surprised at you!" Eddie exclaimed.

"That's not even my name, dumbass. My first name is just John. And if you call me that, I'll have no choice but to disown you," Jake said, pointing firmly at Eddie. "Anyway, I just came to see if you guys wanted to eat with us. We've still got some of the pokeberry muffins I brought back from the Calla." 

"Hell yeah," Eddie said, jumping up from his seat. “You heard 'em, Bert. Looks like it's just about gobble o'clock!" He exclaimed, squinting down at an imaginary watch on his wrist.

Although Cuthbert had never seen a wristwatch in his life, he kenned a joke when he saw one. He pulled Eddie's wrist toward him and squinted down at it, just as Eddie had done. "Why, I believe you're right!

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

There was some light talk while they ate, but nothing of importance. Eddie and Cuthbert were amusing themselves, feeding off of each other’s energy while the rest were quietly trying to come fully awake.

Once all meals were finished and sleepiness was shaken off, it was time to discuss what was next. 

“So,” Eddie said conversationally, “Any idea where to go from here?” Everyone looked to Roland, as they often did when guidance was needed. 

“We’ll go to the Calla,” Roland said decisively. “Jake was already going back there, so we’ll go with him. There, Cuthbert, you’ll be able to acquire anything you need, a new bedroll, clothing, what have you. We can stay there until you’ve decided what you want to do. I think we could all use a period of reprieve.” 

“That sounds just fine to me,” Cuthbert said after a moment of contemplation. “I have to ask though--we talked a great deal about what led you to renounce the Tower, but we didn’t speak much of the present. What exactly is it that ye do now?”

“Most of our time is spent traveling. When we pass through a town in need of help, we provide it. There hasn't been much in the last few years, but more than you might think. Ever since the Beams started rebuilding, civilization has been coming back.”

“Roaming gunslingers,” Cuthbert mused. “Just like the gunslingers of old. Before our time, even. Before the wars.”

“Sure,” Jake said, “Because that’s all that’s needed nowadays. No more wars, just restoration and rebuilding.”

Cuthbert turned to Jake, reminded of his other question. “Roland said you were already going back to the Calla on your own. May I ask why? Do you often split up or do you generally travel together?” Jake, unsure of how much he should say, looked at Roland, willing him to answer for him. 

“We generally stay together, although sometimes we may split up if it serves,” Roland said. “However, Jake has his own purpose for going back and I will leave that up to him to decide if he’d like to share that with you.” He turned to Jake, grasping his shoulder and lowered his voice a little, “You don’t have to share anything with which you are uncomfortable.”

“No, that’s okay, I can tell him,” Jake said. He’d never tried to hide who he was since crossing over into this strange world, and he didn’t want to start now. If Cuthbert wasn’t okay with it, well, then that’s just too bad. Besides, he didn’t want this to be treated like some big deal; it wouldn’t be like that if Benny was a girl. “I’m going back to settle down with my partner. I guess you could say I’m retiring from being a gunslinger,” Jake looked down as he said this last part, for this was the part he was most regretful of speaking out loud. Even though the others have been supportive of his choice, part of him still feels as though he’s abandoning his family.

“You should feel no shame in that, Jake,” Roland said, gently rubbing Jake’s shoulder. “You’ve done more than enough. It’s time for you to enjoy your youth.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Eddie said. “I mean, jeez Jake, at your age I was… well, we don’t need to talk about what I was like back then.” Susannah smiled and wrapped her arm around her love. 

Cuthbert, still a turn behind them, asked, “Partner? Do you mean a marriage partner?”

“Well, we’re not exactly married--yet, anyway--but yeah, like a romantic partner. You remember Benny Slightman from our story yesterday? The one who I stayed with during our time there?” When Cuthbert nodded, he went on. “He’s my boyfriend. We came back around to the Callas so that I could reconnect with him and maybe tell him my feelings. I spent about a month there, while Roland, Susannah, and Eddie waited behind. And, well, he returned my feelings. So yeah, we’re together now.” Jake was blushing faintly, but there was a wide smile on his face. It was clear that this boy made him very happy.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Jake. While you were speaking of saving the Calla, I got an idea that you cared greatly for him.”

“He does,” Roland said, clearly proud of his boy. “So it’s decided, we’ll go to Calla Bryn Sturgis to recompose. Any objections?”

There weren’t any.  

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

Two days later, the group of gunslingers made it to Calla Bryn Sturgis. Jake immediately took off for Vaughn Eisenhart's homestead, where Benny was now living. On their walk in, they passed several folken and it didn't take long for word to get around that the gunslingers were back. All of them this time, not just Jake, who they’d already welcomed enthusiastically.

They wandered into town, looking for someone they recognized. Roland, Eddie, and Susannah were hit with waves of nostalgia. When they first left this place, they never thought they’d be back. Places to go and Towers to see, ya ken. Much has changed since then. As they made their way in, someone called out to them, Roland specifically.

"Roland? Is it you?"

They all turned to see a woman walking over to where they stood. Most recognized her as Rosalita Munoz, Cuthbert however had no idea who she was. He only knew that she was an attractive woman who was excited to see Roland. Perhaps an old lover. He felt the old familiar flare of jealousy rise up and tried to shove it back down. He didn't want this to be like Mejis, when he had first allowed jealousy to get in the way of their friendship. That was kiddie stuff. He would just have to get used to seeing Roland be romantic with someone who wasn't him. All over again.

Roland smiled brightly and waved her over. "Rosalita!" He called. "Lovely as ever, so you are."

She blushed and Roland pulled her in for a brief hug. "It's wonderful to see you all back," She said as she pulled away. She regarded the rest of the group. Eddie and Susannah waved and gave greetings of their own. "Ye all look well, tell the Gods thankee.” She gestured to where Cuthbert stood, and added: “Ye even gained one it seems."

"So we have," Roland said and motioned for Cuthbert to come over. Cuthbert braced himself and walked over, trying not to show his uneasiness. Of course, he had a reliable way of masking his emotions that he could always fall back on.

“Cuthbert, this is Rosalita Munoz,” Roland said. “One who fought valiantly against the Wolves.”

“Hile, dear lady!” Cuthbert exclaimed, falling to one knee in front of Rosalita and taking her hand. “Excuse me if I seem a bit taken aback. I wasn’t apprised of such beauty in the Calla. I may need a moment to catch my breath, for you’ve taken it away.”

Rosalita couldn’t help but laugh at this unexpected display of dramatics. It seemed this man was the exact opposite of Roland, who was always so stoic.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Roland said. “It seems he never developed the ability to be serious.” Although he clearly wanted to sound annoyed, Rosalita didn’t miss the tiny twitch on the left side of Roland’s mouth. Nay, she didn’t think he was annoyed at all.

“It’s true, and unfortunately Roland never developed a sense of humor,” Cuthbert said with a laugh. He stood up to greet her properly, putting his fist to his forehead. “Cuthbert Allgood of Gilead comes to you, sai.”

“Gilead,” she repeated questioningly and looked at Roland for confirmation. “Do ya truly say so?”

“Aye, he speaks true. He’s an old friend of mine.”

“Well,” she said, surprised. Another gunslinger out of Gilead? She didn’t see how it could be, but she let it go. There were many things she didn’t understand about Roland and his ka-tet. “We are well-met, Sai Allgood.”

“Let me be Cuthbert please, if it does ya,” Cuthbert said, flawlessly picking up the dialect of the Calla.

"Rosalita," Susannah broke in. "Do you know where I might find Zalia Jaffords? Or Tian?"

"Yar, Zalia's right over in the town square, having lunch with her kiddies.”

"Thankee-sai," Susannah said with a curtsy then took off in that direction. They'd already discussed that they would need to make sleeping arrangements, and the Jaffords' place seemed likely enough for her and Eddie. They had already been welcomed into their home once, and that was before they saved the town's children.

"Eddie, why don't you take Cuthbert over to Took's while I catch up with Rosalita here," Roland said.

"Sure thing." He turned to Cuthbert and clapped him on the shoulder. "I believe we've been dismissed, old pal."

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

“I see that the Pere isn't with you,” Rosalita said as she and Roland started walking together. The Pere’s church, Our Lady of Serenity, would eventually be in sight if they kept going in this direction. 

“No,” Roland said solemnly. “The Pere was brave and he stood true, but no, he didn’t make it, say sorry.”

“It's alright, I'm not surprised. The Manni, they told us he had gone to the clearing. But I guess I still held out a little hope. I suppose I could’ve asked yer boy when he came back on his own, but…” she trailed off, but Roland kenned what she was trying to say. She hadn’t asked because she wanted to hold onto her hope for just a bit longer.

“If it's any consolation, he died a hero. He was an honorable man. We all say thankee.”

“So, what are ye doing back here? Do you need a place to stay? I have the Pere's old place now. You could stay with me, just like old times.”

“We just needed a place to rest awhile. As for your gracious offer, I think I should stay somewhere else this time. You're a goodly woman, Rosa, but things between us can't be like last time.” He sounded as though he expected her to be upset, but in truth, she didn’t mind. She hadn’t expected anything from him. ‘Twas only an idea.

“Well that's just fine, Roland. Yer not breaking my heart any. No need to look so guilty.” 

“That's good to hear. For I'd like to be your friend if it would please ya.”

“Yar, of course. Might this have anything to do with the new man ye have brought along?” She hadn’t missed the man’s watchful glare thrown her way just before Roland called him over to be introduced.

“It might,” he allowed, keeping his face blank.

Rosalita decided to push her luck with another question. “Are you two together, like how Jake is with the Slightman boy?” This was currently the talk of the town. Young Benny Slightman and the boy gunslinger seemed to be in some kind of relationship, and were quite open about it. As puzzling as it was--them being two boys and all--none seemed bothered by it. They were mostly just curious.

“Nay, not together.”

“Ah, but you want to be, is that it?”

Roland said nothing but the way his face immediately flushed said enough. He had been doing his best to keep his emotions off of his face (something he was normally quite good at), but he hadn’t been expecting her to ask straight out like that.

“I won’t push the matter any further but know that I don't judge ye, Roland,” Rosalita said. “He seems like a fine man.” Then, changing the subject before Roland could get too embarrassed: “Did ye reach yer Tower? There hasn’t been another Beamquake, so ya must have done something, I beg.”

“We saved it, and that’s all that matters. The Tower and the Beams are no longer in imminent danger. I say thankee to my ka-tet, Father Callahan included. For without him, we never would have gotten as far as we did.

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

About a week later, Cuthbert found himself standing once again in Took’s General Store. The last time he had been here was when Eddie had initially walked him over. While on their way, Cuthbert inquired about Rosalita, keeping his voice only mildly curious; he didn’t need anybody finding out about his feelings. Eddie had not so delicately informed him that yes, when they were here the first time, she had been Roland’s lover. Cuthbert tried not to let that disappoint him.

He and Roland were currently staying in the guest house on Wayne Overholser’s homestead. Although he was the wealthiest landowner in the Calla, the guest house was quite small. It didn’t matter to either one of them, though, as they were used to sleeping on the ground. It was nice to sleep in a soft bed for a change. Well, for Cuthbert anyway; Roland had elected to sleep on the settee claiming that the bed would be too comfortable for him, having been long accustomed to sleeping on the ground.

The guesthouse was shaped like a T. The long end contained only the settee and a small wooden table. The cross arm housed a closet on one end and a decent sized bed. The bed was plenty big enough for them to share--Gods knew they’d shared smaller sleeping spaces in the past--but Roland said the settee would do him just fine.

Now, Roland had gone out to have lunch with Rosalita, leaving Cuthbert without much to do. He wanted to distract himself instead of just sitting around waiting for Roland to come back, and that was how he found himself back at Took’s. 

The distraction worked because he wasn’t thinking of Roland at all at that moment. No, he was staring at a hanging rack of blankets and thinking of his mother. Much like he had done in another store on a forgotten day, long ago. With all the years and all the losses, it seemed they shouldn’t hurt anymore but this wasn’t the case. They seemed to hit at the most unexpected moments. And they hit hard.

His mother, seeing the way things were going in Gilead had once tried to convince him to come away with her. To give up fighting and go somewhere they could find peace. He had been horrified at the time, taking it almost as blasphemy. But later, when she lay in her deathbed, he knew it was only because she loved him and wanted to protect her boy. Suddenly a cheerful voice spoke from his side, breaking him from his thoughts. He quickly blinked back the tears that had risen to his eyes.

“Hey, Cuthbert!” He looked to see Jake had snuck up next to him.

“Is that Jake Chambers? Why, I hardly recognize you without your other half next to you,” Cuthbert joked. Jake and Benny were quite inseparable. Cuthbert didn’t think he had seen one without the other since they arrived in town. Of course, he hadn’t seen much of Jake at all. 

Jake laughed gleefully. “Benny’s busy helping Eisenhart repair the trail fences today. Hey, Took’s got some pre-made popkins that aren’t too bad--as long as you grab the fresh ones, that is. You wanna have lunch with me? There’s a bench behind the building we could sit at.”

 “Aye, why not? But if these popkins poison me, I’m holding you personally responsible.” Cuthbert was actually pleasantly surprised by the idea. He had bonded with Roland’s family on their walk to the Calla and they had all gotten fairly close. At least Cuthbert thought so, but ever since they arrived it seemed the boy was avoiding him. Roland assured him that this wasn't the case, Jake was just attached to his boyfriend and wanted to spend all his time with him. But Cuthbert was sure there was something more to it and his guilty conscience attributed it to the fact that he let Jake drop in the mountains.

As it happens, Jake had been avoiding him but not for the reason he thinks. Jake had his own guilty conscience to deal with, for he had accidentally learned something about Cuthbert through the touch that he hadn't been meant to know. 

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

It had happened during their walk to the Calla, not too long before they had actually arrived. Cuthbert had inquired about how Jake had confessed his feelings for Benny, and Jake, always happy to have a chance to talk about Benny, told him. Cuthbert listened quietly while Jake cheerfully told him the story, which the others had already heard. As he spoke, he was a bit curious about what Cuthbert thought of all of this, but he didn’t pry.

 All of the sudden, the knowledge was just there in Jake’s head. 

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t entirely true. He had looked, but only a little. He only did it because he was still kind of worried that Cuthbert was homophobic. He certainly didn’t mean to find out that Cuthbert was in love with Roland. But it must have been on the very forefront of the man’s mind, because it was the first thing Jake touched. Upon discovering this, he felt tremendously guilty. He invaded Cuthbert's privacy within just days of meeting him. 

The shame he felt over this was why he had been avoiding him. But he realized now that that had been selfish. It wasn’t Cuthbert’s fault that Jake had dishonored his trust. But still, he didn’t know how to handle it. Does he owe it to Cuthbert to come clean with his knowledge? Or would it be better to just pretend like he never found out? He tried to think of what he would prefer if the situation were flipped, but it was just so complicated.

Now, sitting across from Cuthbert, sharing lunch on a nice, sunny day, he felt guiltier than ever. 

The look on Jake’s face once they sat down confirmed Cuthbert’s suspicions. Jake was trying his best to move past it, but there was something bothering him. “So,” Cuthbert said conversationally, “Will you tell me what I did to offend thee? For I have caught on to the fact that you’ve been avoiding me. As old as my brain is,” he gave his forehead a knock, “it does still work.” 

Jake looked stunned for a moment. There was a look of surprise on his face that would’ve been comic, if Cuthbert wasn’t so worried about what it meant. Whatever had been bothering Jake, he hadn’t been expecting to address it. Cuthbert was about to tell him that he didn’t have to talk about it when Jake spoke again. 

“No, you didn’t do anything. It’s me.” Jake took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to say next. “I cry your pardon, Cuthbert. I have betrayed your trust.”

This was not at all what Cuthbert was expecting. “No, Jake, you haven’t done anything--”

“I did, though,” Jake broke in, rushing to get it out before he lost his nerve. Now that he started, he supposed he no longer had a choice. He just hoped Cuthbert wouldn’t be too upset with him. “I used the touch and found something in your mind--on accident ya ken--but it was something you wouldn’t have wanted me to know and I’m sorry. It was when I was talking about Benny and I was just trying to see if you were homophobic or something. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that.”

Once Jake had gotten all of that out, Cuthbert felt pretty confident that he knew what Jake was referring to. When Jake had been talking about Benny, he couldn’t help but think of his feelings for Roland. Although he hadn’t been planning on telling anyone, it didn’t bother him too much that Jake knew. After all, he knew Jake wouldn’t judge him. There was no need for the boy to torture himself with shame.

“Alright Jake, it’s okay. I think I ken you. I don’t mind that you know. Although, if it’s okay with you, I’m not sure I’m ready to discuss it. It’s just hard for me, what with how I was raised. Perhaps you could just tell me some more about you and Benny? Might help me feel a little more comfortable, do it please ya.”

“I can do that,” Jake said and Cuthbert was happy to see a bright smile had returned to Jake’s face.

----------------  

Another week had gone by when Susannah decided to walk over to the little guest house on Overholser’s homestead where Roland and Cuthbert were currently dwelling. She was glad to find Roland by himself, Cuthbert having gone out into town. She had a couple of things she wanted to discuss with Roland alone. 

Roland let her in and offered her some tea. Susannah took it gratefully and then they both sat down on the couch. Roland turned to face her. “So, what is it you would like to talk to me about, Susannah? For I sense that you came to me with something on your mind.”

“Do you remember our talk by the stream a while back?” 

“I remember it very well, and I think I may know where you are going with this.” He had been waiting for this to come up. Ever since Cuthbert joined up with them, he knew Susannah would want to reopen that discussion.

“I’m sure you do. You opened up to me that night. First, you said that out of everyone in your life, Cuthbert was the one with whom you wished you could spend your life. You told me that you had been in love with him and that you regretted never having told him. And then a while after that, we found a door. One that led to the very man you longed for. Seems like a mighty coincidence to me, maybe even a little nineteen to tell you the truth. Perhaps ka is rewarding you for saving the Tower.”

“Ka gives no rewards, it is not a force of good or evil, it simply is what it is,” Roland said and although this was the undeniable truth, a part of him had thought the same as Susannah. Either way, reward or not, he was grateful to have Cuthbert back and felt no need to question it any further.

“Nevertheless, you said that Jake was given a chance at the life you gave up, and you wished it for him very much. Now you’re being given the same chance. Will you not take it?”

“I hear you very well Susannah and I say thankya, but this is not the same situation. I’m perfectly content just to have him back in my life. I need not try to push it beyond that. I wish not to scare him away.”

“Roland, how do you not see it? It is the exact same situation. Think about it: Jake developed feelings for Benny, the best friend he’d ever had, but he never got a chance to confess those feelings. He couldn’t because he was on a quest for the Tower and that took priority. Years later, having since renounced the Tower, he reunited with Benny, and even though a lot of time had gone by, Jake had an opportunity to confess his feelings.” She paused for a moment, letting Roland consider what she was saying. Roland said nothing so she continued. “If you replaced Jake and Benny with Roland and Cuthbert, it would describe your current situation to a T. You never got to tell Cuthbert your feelings because you were too focused on the Tower. Now, he’s back in your life, at a time where the Tower can’t stand in your way. Take a lesson from Jake, I’m sure he’d tell you how glad he is that he took his chance.”

“Aye, that would be because the Slightman boy returned his feelings. Had he not, Jake likely would have regretted it. I have no reason to believe Cuthbert would feel the same for me.”

“You told me before how much you’ve longed for a life with a loving partner, the romantic that you are. Now you may be able to have that, but you’re too scared to go for it. I’ve never known you to let fear stand in your way.”

“I am scared, Susannah. I don’t want to lose him again. He means too much to me.”  

"What arrives with the wind of ka may blow away just as easily. And just like that, the opportunity will be taken from you. Take your chance, Roland, before the ever blowing wind of change takes it for you."

“Now you sound like me,” Roland said with a small smile. “But you’re right. May it ease your mind to know that I will heed your advice. When the right moment comes, I’ll tell him.”

"Okay, now that we've settled that", she said, taking Roland's hand and giving it a little squeeze, "Can I tell you something?"

"Aye, dear heart. I'd hear anything thee wants to share."

Susannah took a deep breath and prepared herself to tell Roland what she and Eddie had decided. She wasn't sure how he would take this news. It was one thing for Jake to retire, but for all of them to up and quit on him? That might be too much. "Eddie and I have decided we want to stay here,” she said gently. “We think maybe it's time to give up the guns and start a family. Tian and Zalia have assured us that the folken would be happy to help us build a home."

"Susannah, that pleases me to hear. I wish you and Eddie every joy of a home with kiddies. I can think of no one who'd make better parents than the two of you."

"You're not mad?"

Roland gave a small chuckle. “Do you truly think so low of me--That I would be angry at my kids for going after the lives they have longed for?” He squeezed her hand as she had done, and continued softly. “In any case, how could I be angry when the thought of staying here myself has more than crossed my mind?” 

“Say true? You would retire from gunslinging?” This surprised Susannah, although mayhap she shouldn’t be so surprised. Roland had once told them that at fourteen years old, he already saw himself only a few years from retiring and settling down. This of course was before the Tower pervaded his mind.

“Why not? I think the world has progressed beyond the need for such as me. Our job is done. My ways are the old ways. I think it's about time to settle down somewhere, and this is a fine place. And now, with my children here, there is nowhere I'd rather be."

Susannah smiled and hugged Roland. She was suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that they had returned to Calla Bryn Sturgis. “Eddie and I can talk to Tian and Zalia about having the folken help you build a home as well, if you would like. You can't stay with Overholser forever.”

“Aye, do that if it pleases ya. But I think I should first take care of that other piece of business we discussed. Could be I'll need room for two.”

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

That night, Roland had the dream again.

It always starts the same, with their group hug on the streets of Algul Siento. They were celebrating their success, for even though there were still things to do, it was clear they won this battle. Everything was exactly as he remembered it, up to a point. Instead of shouting his renunciation, Roland simply pulled away from the embrace and they all went back to their business. Moments later, Pimli Prentiss, the boss of the show, shot Eddie, mortally wounding him before anyone had a chance to stop it. 

Flashes of Eddie slowly dying in a room in Corbett Hall. Roland and Jake finished their business as Eddie lay dying. With that taken care of, they waited around, overwhelmed with regret and grief, but determined to see Eddie through to the end. Once Eddie passed on to the clearing, where he had promised to wait for Susannah, Jake and Roland dejectedly set off to save the writer. Neither felt up for it, but it was their duty and they would not let Eddie’s death be in vain. 

Except, with all the time spent on the other side, waiting around for Eddie to die, they were running late. Too late. The events of ka had already been set in motion; to stop them would require a sacrifice. Roland promised himself that he would provide the sacrifice this time. Too many had died in his place so that he may go on.  Roland rolled out of the truck, but was betrayed by his bad hip. Jake never hesitated, he simply leaped over Roland and disappeared beneath the vehicle. 

Later, Roland went deep into the woods and buried his boy. He sent him on to the clearing with a prayer for the dead, one that he had heard from Cuthbert Allgood. He thought about Jake in the Calla, strong, bright, and seemingly infinite. How could this boy, who vivaciously jumped into a haypile with Benny Slightman, lay in his grave? This boy who stood up against incomprehensible terrors, but was still only a boy, wise beyond his years. 

It’s too much. My heart can’t handle it, Roland thought, but the horror of it was that he could handle it. He was able to persist, even after these detrimental losses.

He watched as Susannah grew to resent him, blaming him for Eddie and Jake’s deaths. In a way, this hurt the most, because she was right. Who else could be responsible? He saw Susannah walk through a door. One that looked suspiciously like the one from Doorway Cave near Calla Bryn Sturgis. He knew not where she would end up, only that she would no longer be with him. There was a possibility that she may end up todash space. Still she went. 

The finale to this parade of losses was Oy of course, the last member of his strange and wonderful ka-tet. He sees a vile creature, creeping through the darkness: Mordred, somehow still alive. In this alternate reality, it was Mordred who killed Walter, not the other way around. As Mordred closed in, Roland slept. He didn’t wake until he heard the furious, savage barking as Oy made his attack. Oy had sacrificed himself to save Roland, not the first to do so. And here was an image that was heartbreakingly familiar: Oy impaled on a cottonwood branch. This he had seen long ago in the Wizard’s Glass.

It’s the end of his ka-tet, the end of his family, the end of everything. All for the wretched Tower.

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

Roland suddenly sat up in the middle of night with tears streaming down his face. He tried to remind himself that those things didn’t happen, that it was just a dream. Only, he knew this was no dream. This was an insight to a future that he had narrowly avoided. Very narrowly. Had he not chosen to renounce, the events of his dream would've come to fruition. He mayn’t understand it all, but he knew that. 

He wiped his face frustratedly and tried to regulate his breathing, wishing not to wake Cuthbert. The first time he’d had this dream was the night after they renounced the Tower, and for a period after that, it was a recurring nightmare. However, it eventually stopped. Why, after all this time, had it come back? 

He thought hard. What was the key difference between this dream and the actual events? Eventually, it came to him. In the dream, he didn't have the Horn of Eld in his belt. It was the weight of the Horn which reminded Roland of Cuthbert Allgood, one of many killed on the way to the Tower. Reminded of all those he'd lost, he realized he decided that he wouldn’t stand to lose any more.

It all came back to Cuthbert lately. He thought of something Susannah said earlier, that it was all very nineteen.

But there was something else she said: "What arrives with the wind of ka may blow away just as easily."

He had an idea that this dream was trying to tell him the very same thing.

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

The next day, Roland and Cuthbert had dinner over the Eisenhart ranch with Jake, Benny, and Vaughn. Jake wanted to do a sort of ‘meet the parents’ sort of thing with his boyfriend. Ever since Benny’s dad died at the battle against the wolves, Vaughn had taken him in. They both bonded over their mutual losses and Benny regarded him as father. Jake, for his part, insisted on having both Roland and Cuthbert there. 

Afterwards, Roland sat down on the couch in their quarters with a heavy sigh. He started removing his boots, grunting with effort as he did so. 

Cuthbert watched this from where he was sitting on the bed. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of Roland’s grunts and sighs. "We're getting old Ro'."

“I know that very well. Some people are surprised by their age. They don’t feel as old as they are. Not me. My bones feel the weight of every year I've been alive. I feel my age. If anything, I feel older.”

“Well, I must say, you don't look a day over 900 to me,” Cuthbert said with faux sweetness, batting his eyes wildly. 

“Hm. Maybe you ought to guard your glass house, as Eddie would say” (this was not precisely the saying but it’s the spirit that counts, do it please ya). “You've been around as long as I have.” 

“Nay, I'm younger. Ye had a few years after renouncing the Tower before you grabbed me, still young and spry at only a few hundred years old, on the Western Sea.”

“Younger by…” Roland paused in thought. How long had it been between losing his fingers and finding the door that led to Cuthbert? It was hard to know for sure, time had gotten strange for a while. “Perhaps 6 years, more likely 5.” He stood up and stretched, exaggerating his little grunts and delighting in Cuthbert's laughter. “I'm not sure that makes a difference when one has been alive for hundreds, maybe even a thousand years.”

A thousand years, Cuthbert mused. And so much can change in that kind of time. This world was certainly a much different place than it had been when he and Roland were children, running around with sticks and knocking stuffy-guys over. Nearly unrecognizable. The world as he had known it ended with the Battle of Jericho Hill and a completely new one grew in its place.

Everything is different, but that isn’t always a bad thing. There were some changes that Cuthbert thought he could get used to.

“Roland, can I tell you something?”

“Aye, do ya,” Roland said, crossing the room and taking a seat next to Cuthbert on the bed.

“Well, I never saw myself admitting this out loud, not with our background. But your family and this community have made me feel accepted. And safe.” Cuthbert paused for a moment, thinking of how to go on. “So, I just want to tell you that I'm... well, I guess the word is gay? That's what Jake tells me anyway. The point is, I dream of love with men, hear me I beg.”

“I hear you very well, Bert, and it pleases me to hear you speak so,” Roland said, and how true it was. It pleased him to hear that his children helped Cuthbert feel comfortable with who he is, and he was glad that the community was accepting as well. But that wasn’t all. He was also pleased because…well, because mayhap Cuthbert could return his feelings. Would that be so selfish to hope? In any case, he had promised Susannah that he would tell Cuthbert of his feelings, and now seemed like the right time to pursue the subject.

Roland reached over to hug Cuthbert, who gladly returned the gesture. He felt immensely relieved. Part of him, however illogical it was, had still felt certain that Roland would be revolted at this information.

“You never told anyone?” Roland asked softly as he pulled away from their embrace. He was a little surprised by this--Cuthbert had many strengths, but holding onto secrets long-term had never been one of them.

“No. Jake knows, but other than that, the only people who have ever known are the men that I've been with. And it's not like we had to tell each other really, it was more of a... mutual understanding,” Cuthbert said. “Certain little signals you pick up on over time. That sort of thing. Well, them and one other person. But I didn't tell him either, he just knew.”

“Who?”

“‘Twas Alain. He sort of confronted me with it,” Cuthbert responded. Alain, who had always been earnest and caring toward his friends, but didn't have the most delicate way of handling drama. When forced into a mediator role, Alain tended toward bluntness. “He told me he knew because of the touch, but I don't think that’s all it was. At that point, I think I was just being very obvious about some feelings that I’d had. He was nice about me being queer. In fact, he didn't seem to care about that part of it at all. He was just mad because... Well, because I was sort of letting certain feelings get in the way of our duties."

Roland was confused. When would Cuthbert’s feelings have interfered with their duties, and why hadn’t he noticed? Maybe this had happened when Cuthbert and Alain had set off for their own mission, while he was in Debaria with Jamie. While there, he supposed it was possible that Cuthbert could have had a love affair of his own and Roland had never known.

Part of him hoped this was the case. After everything Roland had put him through in Mejis, Cuthbert deserved a romance of his own. Another part of him, however, was somehow bitterly jealous at the thought. As if this wasn't hundreds of years ago they were speaking of. 

“When was this?” Roland asked.

“Uhhh well,” Cuthbert started, realizing that to answer this question would reveal a little bit more than he had been planning to say. Oh well, he thought, may as well get it all out. “It was in Mejis”.

“Mejis?” Roland was quiet for a moment as he pondered this. Most of what went wrong in Mejis had been his own fault, distracted by love as he was. The only time Cuthbert’s feelings could have interfered with their duties were…oh. “The fight you and I had... When I accused you of being jealous of me for being with Susan, you weren't jealous of me were you?”

“No. I didn't want Susan, not at all. You were right about me being jealous, though. You just had it bass-ackwards” And now, he was nervous all over again. It was one thing to tell Roland that he was gay, but to imply that he had feelings for him, even if it was a long, long time ago, may be taking it too far. He didn’t try to take it back though. He wanted to see how he’d react because…well, because upon reconnecting with Roland, those feelings had come back.

“Aye, I think I ken ya,” Roland replied. Cuthbert was underwhelmed by the reaction. He didn’t exactly seem all that surprised.

"You already knew, didn't you?" Cuthbert asked. “Yar, I was a fool to think you would never have noticed, we were best friends, so we were.”

“I didn't know. How could I have known when you never told me? Much later, when we were adults, I thought it could be possible. Although maybe ‘hoped’ would be a more accurate word,” Roland said this almost offhandedly, but Cuthbert’s breath caught in his throat. “Aye, but it was a selfish hope. I realized my feelings for you, and naturally, I hoped you would return them. But I never would have done anything about it. For nothing in those days could have caused me to give up the Tower.” He paused for a moment and then went on: “Of course, a lot has changed since then.” As he spoke this last, he met Cuthbert’s eyes. 

“You say true, I say thankya,” Cuthbert said. It ever-pleased Roland to hear Calla speak come out of Cuthbert's mouth. He couldn’t say exactly what it was, but something about it made him feel sentimental. It gave him an almost familiar sense of comfort. It was the feeling of being at home. Not the home he had grown up with, but a new, equally congenial home.

“Cuthbert, I would like to be perfectly clear with you,” Roland said carefully. “I realized that I was in love with you back then, during the latter part of our initial quest for the Tower. And to this day I feel the same. After all of this time, my love for you persists.” 

Cuthbert was quiet for a moment. He was truly at a loss for words. Roland sounded as if he was just stating a casual fact, instead of dropping profound, life-altering information. Cuthbert had dreamed of a moment like this since he was little more than a child. Never once did he believe he would actually hear Roland utter words such as these. Not to him, anyway. 

“Ah shit, Roland, you kind of stole my thunder just now,” Cuthbert said with a light, teasing laugh. “You always have to be first, don’t you? I was working my way up to telling you my feelings, but nay, I forgot it was Roland of Gilead I was talking to. First to become a gunslinger, first in love-making, and now first in confessing queer feelings of affection for their best friend.”

Roland only looked at him, waiting for a serious response. He knew the humor was Cuthbert’s way of dealing with things, and he didn’t mind waiting. Once the humor was out, Cuthbert would speak true. 

“All of that, of course, is my long-winded way of saying that I’m also in love with you,” Cuthbert said. “Have been since Mejis. Mayhap even before that, I just wasn’t aware of it until Mejis.”

For the second time that day, Roland hugged Cuthbert. He was helpless not to. This embrace was closer to the one they shared when Roland had first come through the door. It had the same unrestrained energy, a pure expression of love. After a moment, Roland shifted a little, but didn’t pull away, staying in Cuthbert’s arms. Cuthbert saw his opportunity. He delicately placed a finger under Roland’s chin and lifted it so that they were making eye-contact. He took a second to appreciate the soft, lovestruck expression on Roland’s face, so unlike his normally guarded self. And then, with a glance toward Roland’s parted lips, he leaned in.

They shared a kiss that was hundreds of years in the making.

[ask-2p-hetaliaaa]

What would the 2ps do as youtubers?

2ps as youtubers:

Allen: Would be one of those fake ghost hunters that makes it onto Nuke's Top 5s.

"GUYS, GUYS, OHHH MYYY GODDD GUYYSSS,..... I THINK THAT WAS THE GHOOOSSTTT?? *pans to matt in a white sheet*"

Matt: Would upload funny out-of-context 5 second clips of his friends every 7 months. Gained popularity as a "top ironic humor figure"

Francois: His whole gimmick is staring into the camera for minutes on end without talking. People use him in reaction memes.

Oliver: Makes cooking videos, but in the style of Ted Nivision and twomad thanks to Allen's help with editing. Sometimes he swears in his videos, and when he does, his loyal following goes INSANE in the comments

Viktor: Makes audiobooks that peoples use as asmr to sleep. People who like Russian accents often flock to his videos as well

Xiao: Makes weed and vape reviews and 'hot boxes'; he collabs with matty smokes.

"WE'RE ABOUT TO HIT A FUCKIN OVER 9000 UHHHH DECIMIBITEABLES PUFF *coughing and gagging in mandarin*"

Luciano: Makes reviews of movies and games that have mafias and gangs. Is absolutely brutal in these critiques.

Flavio: Does makeup tutorials, fashion showcases, shopping vlogs, etc. Would basically be like the Lunch Club if it were full of drag queens

Lutz: Makes really obnoxious yet entertaining vlogs doing stupid shit around his country. Says offensive shit in a joking way that everyone is fine with. Has probably held illegal meetups in a mcdonalds

Kuro: "extreme japanese apoligizing" - makes videos along the lines of that, basically clowning on his own culture. occasionally makes anime reviews.

Gillen: Makes gaming videos out of his twitch streams. Sometimes Roland will just be walking in the background and go "Hi!!" and the chat will not shut up about him for next 2 minutes

Roland: He's like Sam O Nella Academy but Austrian- He'll mainly make parody videos of ww1 and ww2 because we all know the funny ww1 and 2 austria jokes. Since he can play guitar, he adds bits inspired by bill wurtz that are just jingles, ends up being used in memes

Andres: Uploads pirated, obscure Spanish music with blank descriptions and no other context

Egil: twomad videos, basically. everything he posts feels like adhd personified, at random points the video will go 200x speed and back to normal its chaotic

Loki: Is a prank channel, but actually funny because his pranks are "lets set shit on fire until the police get involved"

Denmark: His gimmick is making fun of Francois and trying to beat him in subscribers, but Francois doesn't even know he has a channel. People meme in a bad way like "look at this dumbass"

Bernard: Makes commentary videos like Memeulous and James Marriott, has an ongoing joke of making fun of the 1ps (in a friendly way). at random points a picture of Berwald will pop up with the vine boom sound effect

Thurston: Screams into his camera about things that make him mad, a bunch of teenage girls stan him because they think he's hot and relatable. He then made a video screaming about how much he hates his fanbase, which didn't help at all. It only attracted Bernard's fans who clowned on him

Hermes: Makes videos explaining the lore of Greek Mythology, in a girl-talk sort of way. He tried making true crime videos but kept putting his opinions in which nearly got him canceled.

Caligula: Too old to use youtube. Only has an account to like Luciano's videos.

Germania: Also too old to use youtube. But he does comment on the germanic countries videos with things like "LETS FUCKING GOOO"; has become the Justin Y. of 2p comment sections

Leonas and Franciszek: Have a couples channel that people HATE because they act so fake that it's dreadfully annoying. Has had videos made about them by Bernard, Lutz and Flavio

Anastasia: Makes videos about self-care for both men and women, similar to channels like Sexplanations. Also makes videos teaching young adults to cook simple meals, how to do unique hairstyles using wigs of different lengths and textures, how to have a clean house (making beds, doing laundry, organizing cabinets and fridges), etc. Has a large following of people who genuinely appreciate her work and motivation

Katya: Uploads vertical phone videos of her at casinos drinking champagne, playing darts, winning slot machines, etc

Egor: Similar to SomeOrdinaryGamers. Browses the deep web on his AmogOS system he made.

Raimonds: Viktor doesn't allow him to have a youtube channel

Paul: Takes videos of him rolling down hills and making fun of people at his school. Luckily doesn't gain much traction because people would definitely cyber bully him. Most of the adult 2ps have an agreement to not mention him in their videos lest their followers go after him

Wy: Takes behind the scenes videos of Oliver's videos; Her following is basically just Oliver's following who think she's his daughter (she's not) (This rumor caused a huge scandal within the Ollie simping twitter community)

Romeo: Doesn't have youtube, has TikTok and makes shitty e-boy thirst traps and POVs. Bernard wears his merch as satire in his videos.

[ingek73]

Game, set, and twat: Whether it’s Meghan or Naomi Osaka, Piers Morgan’s MailOnline-enabled bullying has a pattern...

... the mediocre hack’s mediocre hack hates women who don’t dance to his tune.

Mic Wright

11 hr ago

If someone had a blog and Twitter account where they relentlessly attacked a series of high profile women — many of them women of colour — for perceived slights and their refusal to pay the writer attention, we’d usually call that person a bully and a troll, and if they persisted in that behaviour they might even find themselves facing legal consequences.

But Piers Morgan has a TV career and a MailOnline byline so he’s given impunity to mock, abuse, and denigrate women while claiming he’s just a ‘critical voice’. His latest target is Naomi Osaka, the 23-year-old tennis player who is currently ranked number 2 in the world, is the reigning champion of the US Open and Australian Open, and became the first woman to win back-to-back grand slams since Serena Williams in 2015.

By contrast, Piers Morgan is a mediocre hack who owes his controversy-baiting career to Simon Cowell who pulled him out of the dumper of history and plonked him on the America’s Got Talent panel after he was frog-marched out of Fleet Street for slapping faked photos on the front page of a national newspaper. That incident was the last in an ignominious run at The Daily Mirror and, before that, in the Murdoch press, which I have covered extensively in the past.

[image description] Twitter avatar for @Nabilu

Nabil Abdulrashid

@Nabilu

If time machines existed Piers Morgan would go backwards in time to chat shit about Rosa Parks

May 31st 2021

346 Retweets2,456 Likes]

Morgan’s latest creepy obsession was triggered — I use that word deliberately — by Osaka’s decision not to speak to the press during the French Open at Roland Garros because interviews were affecting her mental health. She subsequently withdrew from the tournament altogether after winning her first match, having been fined $15,000 for not speaking to the media and warned she was at risk of being expelled from the event.

In her statement yesterday, Osaka wrote that she had suffered ��long bouts of depression” since she defeated Serena Williams in the 2018 US Open Final and received significant media attention. She continued:

I never wanted to be a distraction and I accept that my timing was not ideal and my message could have been clearer. More importantly, I would never trivialise mental health or use the term lightly.

Nothing in either of Osaka’s statements support Morgan’s sneering labelling of the player as “Narcissistic Naomi” or “world sport’s most petulant little madam”. Once again a 56-year-old man is using his vast and undeserved media platform to bully and harass a woman half his age. And — surprise, surprise — it’s actually just a new front in his obsessive one-sided war on the Duchess of Sussex.

Beneath the frankly unhinged headline, Narcissistic Naomi's cynical exploitation of mental health to silence the media is right from the Meghan and Harry playbook of wanting their press cake and eating it, Morgan writes:

Naomi Osaka is a brilliant tennis player…

… She is also the highest-paid female athlete in the world, raking in $55.2 million in the past 12 months, $5.2 million from tennis winnings and $50 million from endorsement deals with the likes of Nike, Beats by Dre, Mastercard and Nissin…

… Unfortunately, Ms Osaka is also an arrogant spoiled brat whose fame and fortune appears to have inflated her ego to gigantic proportions.

How else to explain her extraordinary decision to announce she will no longer participate in media press conferences, supposedly to protect her mental health?

Morgan is pretending that he doesn’t know that money is not an impregnable suit of armour to protect your mental health. Osaka could be the richest woman in the world and still face anxiety and depression. In fact, at just 23, the pressures of her performance-driven, endorsement-laden life are arguably more likely to lead to those feelings than a ‘normal’ one.

But rather than seeing Osaka as a young woman in an extraordinary position who is struggling with those demands and finding the hectoring, hostile, and entitled attitude of the press hard to handle at the moment, Morgan calls her “petulant” and continues:

[She] was fined $15,000 for refusing to appear in front of the media… Of course, given that she earns around $6,000 an hour, Osaka will recoup this fine while she sleeps tonight, rendering the fine utterly meaningless.

What's not meaningless is her frankly contemptible attempt to avoid legitimate media scrutiny by weaponizing mental health to justify her boycott.

Morgan departed Good Morning Britain after the row that followed his comment that he “didn’t believe a word” of the Duchess of Sussex’s statements about her mental health during the Oprah interview. Now, the mental health analyser has logged on again and he has determined that Naomi Osaka does not meet his standard of distress. Sadly, he secured his professional qualifications in this area by scrawling a certificate in crayon on the back of a Pizza Express kids menu.

[image description] Twitter avatar for @PaulbernalUK

Paul Bernal

@PaulbernalUK

What is it about Naomi Osaka and Meghan Markle that gets Piers Morgan so worked up, I wonder. Image

May 31st 2021

1,726 Retweets10,537 Likes

-

He claims that after reading Osaka’s Instagram post about press conferences, which he calls “an orgy of narcissistic twaddle”, “several times” he experienced “mounting fury”. Remember, this is a 56-year-old man contorting his melted waxwork face into an angry rictus over a 23-year-old woman he doesn’t know choosing not to appear at a press conference. I am not convinced that Osaka is the narcissistic one here.

Morgan continues:

One thing’s very clear: This has got nothing to do with mental health.

What Osaka really means is that she doesn’t want to face the media if she hasn’t played well, because the beastly journalists might actually dare to criticise her performance…

… This is straight out of the Meghan and Harry playbook of wanting to have the world’s largest cake and eating it, by exploiting the media for ruthless self-promotion but using mental health to silence any media criticism.

One thing’s very clear: This has got nothing to do with Naomi Osaka.

What Morgan really means is that he’s still beetroot red over a perceived slight by Meghan back in 2016, which he only started ranting about after he didn’t get an invite to her wedding and was “ghosted”. That came after two years of him tweeting about her as a “friend”.

Piers Morgan is simply using Naomi Osaka as another way to wage his sad fuck guerilla war against the Sussexes. And Osaka is just the latest in a long string of young women to fall short of his weirdo expectations.

He berated Lady Gaga on social media, attacking her after she spoke about dealing with PTSD after being raped, and goaded her so much that she agreed to an interview clearly in the hope of getting him to stop.

He attacked Arianna Grande after the Manchester Arena attack and kept up his bullying for six months until she agreed to have dinner with him after what he said was a “chance meeting”. After she had conceded to spending time in his fetid presence he shifted tack and started creepily calling her his “soulmate” — she was 26 at the time.

These obsessions with young women are often framed as “feuds” in the press, but they are, in fact, byline-enabled stalking. Morgan has a huge platform and he abuses it to get women to concede to him, to make mollifying noises, to pretend that they are his friends just to get him to stop.

The only difference between Piers Morgan and a street harasser screaming at a woman to smile is that MailOnline and ITV pay him handsomely for the privilege. Tonight, Morgan’s ‘Life Stories’ interview with Keir Starmer goes out on ITV and he’ll once again get a chance to dominate the headlines. His views are given credence by the political elite even as he continues to abuse women for attention and praise.

It’s a tactic he’s used for decades, stretching back to his time on The Sun’s Bizarre column, where he insisted on inserting pictures of himself cuddling up to celebrities. His ‘feud’/obsession with Madonna has run on for decades, beginning in his Fleet Street days when she didn’t give him the exclusive on her first pregnancy and continuing right up until now.

As with Lady Gaga, Morgan has repeatedly mocked and dismissed Madonna for saying she was raped in the past. However, unlike Gaga, Madonna has refused to pay homage to Morgan with an interview. He preemptively ‘banned’ her from his CNN show back in 2011 though she had shown not one scintilla of interest in appearing, and tried to reignite interest in his hatred for her in 2016 by saying he would end “the feud” if she apologised to him. He’s still waiting for that call.

Morgan’s attack on Osaka, which is simply another attempt to get at Meghan, came two days after a Daily Mail interview with Jan Moir in which he grumbled:

[Meghan] thinks she’s beaten me? She might be in for a surprise because I suspect I’ll be back soon. If Meghan thinks she has cancelled me or won the battle, she is in for a big shock. I’ve never been more popular.

It made me think of this moment in Mad Men:

Michael Ginsberg: What do I care? I got a million of them… a million…

Don Draper: Good. I guess I’m lucky you work for me.

Michael Ginsberg: I feel bad for you.

Don Draper: I don’t think about you at all.

Meghan is Draper. Morgan is a total Ginsberg — smug and self-satisfied, convinced that Meghan is as obsessed with him as he is with her, certain that they are having a feud between equals and not the same dynamic as every woman cursed with a sad but sinister stalker.

And while Morgan acts like he’s a brave truth-teller, he only dares pump his horseshit opinions into MailOnline’s open sewer once he’s fairly sure that there are enough other media bullies taking the same line. The Australian’s tennis correspondent Will Swanton filed his misogynist screed a full day before Morgan got round to his.

There’s a clue as to how Morgan expects young women to act around him in the latest instalment of his journals — The Diary of Samuel Creeps — which are published in The Mail on Sunday.

Recounting his visit to what sounds like a truly mind-numbing party (“…drinking cocktails, nibbling canapés and having actual ‘fun’ in the garden of the Notting Hill home of Gabriela Peacock, nutritionist to the stars.”) he describes an encounter with Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie:

Princess Beatrice arrived with her husband Eduardo. They announced her first pregnancy today, and both seemed ecstatically happy.

‘Please thank your mum for her supportive texts when I left GMB,’ I told her. ‘She’s always been very loyal to me, and I greatly appreciate it.’

‘Well, you’ve been very loyal to her,’ Beatrice replied, ‘and she appreciates that too.’

I’ve always had a soft spot for Fergie.

Princess Eugenie, who gave birth to her first child three months ago, joined her sister. ‘If you two need any parenting tips for your expanding Royal creche, I’ve had four kids so am something of an expert,’ I suggested.

Their regal eyebrows shot up in synchronised horror. ‘No, we’re good thanks, Piers,’ came the firm, unified response.

I’ve known both Princesses since they were very young, and they’ve been through a lot of tough times in the media spotlight, especially lately over their father Prince Andrew’s shameful friendship with billionaire paedophile Jeffrey Epstein.

But they never complain, or give whining interviews, or publicly trash their family, and they’re always incredibly nice, polite and good fun – which all makes such a refreshing change from their narcissistic, self-pitying, family-abusing, spoiled-brat cousins over in California.

Piers Morgan wants to be treated as famous rather than infamous, and likes women to indulge his antics and act as if they’re amused by his sweaty-handed attention. Fergie — a woman devoid of discernible talent beyond tolerating her ex-husband’s second career as the top Yelp! reviewer at Jeffrey Epstein’s houses — is a-ok with Piers because she sucks up to him. Similarly, her daughters are delightful because they’ll tolerate Morgan’s dad jokes and fetid familiarity.

Morgan is not a journalist, a truth-teller, a maverick, or a commentator in anything but bad faith. He’s nothing more than a misogynist with a MailOnline byline and some big money contracts. Don’t let him pretend to be anything else.

[captainfile]

Baby, Don’t Tread

Words: 2225 

Ao3 link 

Andreil-centric. Warnings for Andrew being nonverbal for unspecified reasons and Neil practicing some negative self-talk! Title and summary from “Tread On Me” by Matt Maeson.

Summary: I could hardly sleep, so I don’t And I could hardly speak, so I won’t

Andrew hadn’t moved in a few hours. Neil had returned from class to find him on the couch, a heavy textbook propped up between his stomach and thighs, socked feet tucked between two cushions. One of his legs was wobbling every once in a while, as if burning off absent energy by habit instead of necessity. There was no answer to Neil’s greeting, but that was hardly surprising. He just couldn’t help but notice as the sun dipped lower and dinner came and went, but Andrew didn’t get up to join. Didn’t move a muscle, really, but for the one leg and an occasional page turn. He didn’t look up, not when anyone addressed him, not when Neil sat down at the far end of the couch with his own homework. 

“Hey,” Neil tried, and earned a glance. He didn’t hold back his grin, but Andrew didn’t snarl at him for it. “There’s leftover chicken, if you want some.” Andrew didn’t look at him a second time; didn’t look anywhere but his textbook. Kevin shuffled around in the kitchen, complaining just loud enough for Neil to hear about the dishes and the freshmen. 

“Andrew, you eating?” Nicky called out, and when Andrew didn’t respond, he leaned into view and held up a tupperware container half-full of oven-grilled chicken. “Are you hungry?” He pressed. Neil watched Andrew move his head slow, turning to face his cousin, eyes just this side of unfocused for a lingering moment before they caught on. Andrew blinked. His face didn’t show anything but his attention. Nicky gestured with the tupperware. “Dinner,” he said. 

Andrew didn’t answer. He looked down at the couch, head turning just as slowly back to his textbook, and blinked a few more times. His lips thinned. He would eat, Neil concluded then, but he probably hadn’t so much as opened his mouth since breakfast. Andrew closed his textbook and tucked it against his hip as he stood and made his way to Nicky. 

Secretly, Neil was a bit ashamed that he found Andrew’s actions strange, but Nicky seemed equally bewildered, so he vowed to take the afternoon in stride. 

“I want to run the drill from last night again.” 

“See, I don’t think it’s very useful,” Neil argued, thoroughly distracted for a moment by Kevin as he made his way to a dropped backpack in the corner. It seemed he was also inspired by Andrew’s studiousness. “They weren’t ready for it. Sub in Matt and Aaron so they can get comfortable with backliners who actually know what they’re doing.” 

“Are you insulting me right now?” 

“They won’t only learn by watching, Nicky.” 

“They won’t learn by being carried, either-“ 

“-do you want them to learn the drill, or not-“ 

“Fuck you,” Kevin snapped, then sat with a too-loud thud next to his backpack and got out a notebook. Neil rolled his eyes and sank further into the couch. He looked over the back, though, to check on Andrew, who seemed entirely unaware of the room and chowed down on the cooling leftovers as Nicky hovered and spoke in cut-off half-questions. “When you’re-“ 

Neil heard the rest of the sentence and cut Kevin off. “Fight your homework, not me, asshole; I don’t give a shit.” 

“You definitely give a shit,” Kevin grumbled, and Neil was about to gripe back at him when Nicky swooped in and leaned over the back of the couch. 

“Has he been like this all day?” 

Neil frowned. “Like what?” 

“All… I don’t know. He seems fine, but it’s like he isn’t there.” 

It was obvious who they were talking about, and Andrew appeared at Nicky’s side without a sound, looking at his cousin the same way as before. Attention, no tone to it. He didn’t speak. Nicky jumped only a little in surprise. 

Neil asked, “Andrew, how was your day?” 

Nicky looked at Andrew. Kevin, from the floor, looked at Andrew. Neil didn’t want to add any more pressure, so he looked at the textbook still in Andrew’s grip and watched his knuckles not change a shade in response to the situation. Andrew seemed entirely, genuinely, thoroughly, completely, absolutely disinterested. He stayed quiet. 

“Andrew?” Kevin piped up, head tilted curiously. It was likely fueled by some complicated Exy-centered logic, but he asked, “you alright?” 

How bizarre. Andrew didn’t react to that either, not for a long moment, and when Kevin sucked in a breath to continue it seemed like a mime had possessed Andrew’s body for a moment: his shoulder bumped up to his ear in an overly-exaggerated shrug and then he nodded once, head moving so forcefully that Neil could hear the bones in his jaw and collar thunk against each other. With no further explanation, Andrew returned to his previous pose on the couch. Neil was paralyzed. The sunset had made itself at home on the couch while Andrew ate, and cast a romantic glow to the ends of his blonde hair and the highlights of his face. Neil wasn’t close enough to appreciate how the light caught his eyes- he didn’t dare, even as his stomach dropped out at the relaxed slope of Andrew’s shoulders, at how he ducked his head a bit to hide from that light behind his textbook. Nicky’s hands curled over the back of the couch and squeezed until the fabric groaned. Andrew took a deep breath and- when the whole room leaned forward a bit to hear him- sighed. 

//

Aaron and Nicky were arguing about something only tangentially related to Exy, so Kevin didn’t have much reason to start ranting. He tried striking up a conversation with Andrew, which was fruitless, as per usual, and Neil was excited enough about escaping campus that he answered noncommittally when Kevin’s interest turned to him. With the background chaos of quick words from such similar voices that Neil could tune them out and pretend it was one idiot talking to himself, Neil watched the road contentedly. He relaxed against the passenger seat and glanced down at the center console; he imagined setting his hand palm-up on it and having Andrew hold onto him for the rest of the drive. It was a nice image. 

Andrew had been fairly quiet all day. They had chatted lazily over breakfast, and when everyone piled into the Maserati, he had grated out a confirmation for their activities. Neil had been confused at that more than the quiet- Andrew didn’t talk when he didn’t want to, didn’t say anything he didn’t mean, that was all well and good with Neil. But audibly, visibly struggling to speak? Holding onto his words like he’d been carved hollow and they were all he had left? Expression shuttering over some kind of pain? Neil was chilled by it. 

“Hey!” Roland shouted when Andrew and Neil inevitably found their way to him. Other customers were outright ignored, but lucky Neil, no one was too upset. The night was still young. “What can I get you all tonight?” 

A beat passed. 

Several, really, between Neil’s earlier worry and the deafening music. 

One too many. The moment lingered and still Andrew said nothing, attention very obviously divided between Roland and Neil and the people around them. The sooner they ordered, the sooner they could retreat to the booth, but Andrew did not order any drinks. Neil plastered on a smile as Roland’s began to waver. 

“I’ve got it,” he blurted, and rattled off some requests that he didn’t remember clearly enough. Roland was sufficiently distracted, and soon enough, they were carrying two trays to the table. Neil grimaced when the three already seated began to complain. Surely they’d care a little less after a few unpleasant gulps. Andrew seemed to settle in for a long night in his spot at the same time as the other three nearly vibrated with a want to dance, gazes darting to each other and out into the crowd and down to the drinks. 

When they were gone, Neil’s worry resurfaced. It wasn’t that something was explicitly wrong, not like Andrew had fought with his brother or heard from an old enemy, not like any of them were in danger at all. He seemed the opposite, really, except that one moment. Ice cream went down as quickly as it normally did, just as sickeningly sweet as Andrew liked it. His hands were at rest, armbands intact and untouched. For all Neil could tell, Andrew was having a normal day, but… Neil was still worried. He rambled to fill the space that was left in the absence of their nonsensical table conversation, gestured to iron out the curl building in his hands, kept Andrew in his sights but looked away as much as he could stand. Hadn’t Nicky said something, forever ago? It was like someone had hit mute on Andrew, but he simply didn’t care and lived on. Neil ignored the alcohol to keep himself from breaking and asking about it. 

Worse, breaking and asking. 

Fuck. 

“It’s like you don’t even care about Exy, you guys always make fun of me,” Kevin whined as he was dragged inside. Neil took care of everyone’s shoes and, when it seemed like Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin would all live to the morning, he made for the couch. 

Andrew’s supernatural ability to move faster and quieter than a ghost would probably never stop surprising Neil. He didn’t flinch, though, just turned when a light tug on his sleeve announced his presence. There was nothing to read in Andrew’s expression for a moment. The pair of them were left with the backdrop of a dark living room in Columbia, drunk stumbling audible from the bedrooms. Complaints, too, mostly Kevin’s, drifting through the walls and rattling hidden pipes. Neil waited and waited for something to happen; he could be patient, he could stand there for hours just looking at Andrew in the dark. He could wait for a car to drive by and light up Andrew’s jaw through the living room curtains, for both their eyes to burn until they passed out in the middle of the room, for the sun to rise and birds to sing and Andrew to speak. Neil knew stillness as a tool of life on the run, knew nonchalance and manners to cover panic and desperation. 

It was only a moment, though, before Andrew invited the question. His shoulder drifted just slightly, his grip lingered on Neil’s sleeve. “Yes or no?” Andrew nodded. “I-“ Neil didn’t want to doubt him. “Can you… say it?” Andrew’s lips thinned, and even in the dark, even in a nanosecond, Neil knew the answer without understanding the reason behind it. “I’m alright with that,” he said quickly, or as quickly as the laws of physics would let him. “Upstairs?” 

Andrew nodded again. They went upstairs. 

//

Now, Neil was stupid. Unbelievably so, inconceivably so. Neil had never learned a thing in his life, in his own humble opinion, and the things he was good at involved just the bare bones of brain activity. Obviously. Through this unfortunate reality, Neil had started to notice a pattern. He decided to draw it out to better understand it. The sketch was yet another example of Neil being generally unremarkable, but it didn’t have to be beautiful. 

He drew Andrew Minyard, dressed in all black for a night out at Eden’s Twilight. Shoulders sloped just so, hands relaxed and capable, mouth a single line. 

He drew Andrew Minyard, standing in the corner of the girls’ dorm on some accursed movie night, elbows loose. 

The day Nicky had commented on the silence, inhaling cooled-down chicken. 

In the middle of a late-night practice; no one was communicating, and someone pinned it on Andrew, and then Nicky got mad and they all only stopped yelling at each other because Kevin was an easier and more universal target than Andrew. 

Those moments felt different. It was like Andrew had something to say, but no words to use. He had powered through only the most necessary statements in those times. Usually when he was quiet it was because he meant to be. It was as surely a fact of life as Neil’s dumbfuckery that Andrew was a calculating sort of man. He never did anything he didn’t want to, never stayed put when he wanted to move. Always knew what he’d say before he said it. Andrew was powerful, really. 

The air shifted over Neil’s shoulder, but he didn’t look. Neil leaned back in the desk chair in some wishful thinking that he could lean on Andrew, who moved fluidly to sit on the desk and shake out a cigarette. 

A conversation passed between them in a glance. Andrew rolled his eyes. “What, I’m supposed to think you’re ugly?” Neil scoffed defensively, and cherished the brief push of calloused fingertips on his chin. It felt like… Neil didn’t have a word for what he’d never felt before Andrew. It didn’t matter. Neil was stupid. He just tossed his chin back in Andrew’s direction and blurted, “yes or no?” And grinned into the kiss Andrew gave him, leaning in slowly with a fine-tuned focus like Neil would never be in this spot again. He knew both their shoulders sagged from the way they shared breath more than any visual evidence or exploratory hands. 

He knew and cared that Andrew was comfortable.

[unordinaryquotes]

UnOrdinary Chapter 193 Review

-Cecile seems to be well liked by her peers, now whether it’s because of her power or her qualities of a person is still up for debate. But I wouldn’t mind it if these actually really liked Cecile, it would make her a more concrete person in the school

-John is not a king, he’s a dictator. Also why the fuck do you care so badly? For someone who just wanted to get away from the Royals you seem to think about them a lot. There’s also the fact that he’s saying he’ll beat up anyone who hangs out there. Imagine if you went to A.A meetings and got beat up by some drunk person because they’re offended you would do such a thing

-Terrence has a look in his eye, and I’m liking it. Terrence has already fucked over Sera and Arlo, he’s not scared to do it to John. Unfortunately Cecile would probably take the fall for whatever Terrence decides to do

-Zeke is the biggest lapdog I’ve ever seen. And he’s not even the cool one where they’re like “I’ll stand by my master or I’ll die” he just flip flops. Of course John uses Zeke to his advantage to take down all the posters. Way to show them John, you got rid of flyers.

-I don’t know what John wants anymore. Anytime these people try something he instantly knocks it down. He can’t be happy when people try to do nice things because he always takes it as a personal offense. The reason he’s so offended is because he knows he’s shit, but instead of working to improve that he just complains

-I was right in my assessment that the two haven’t talked in a long time, but I wonder what the reason is?

-There’s nothing Arlo is better at than stalking and ambushing students. Besides not sharing his feelings, he’s great at that.

-Remi personally inviting Evie is adorable and I hope the two become close friends. But I’m scared of Evie getting the enemy marker on her. Now that John’s broke ties with Sera, he could go after her. If that does happen, we must send him to the gulag

-Roland is definitely holding a grudge on Terrence for abandoning them and letting Evie be knocked unconscious. We can’t have you ruin anything though dude, so just chill for a minute.

-I can see Meili and Ventus just standing in a corner with each other cause they’re uncomfortable. Holden will definitely be doing dumb shit, but good dumb shit. Also smart of Sera using the roster to her advantage, then again I don’t want anymore targets

-Terrence does have an ulterior motive, but I can’t tell if it’s because of that weird group or maybe he just likes spreading shit. If he is a rat bastard I hope he’s a fun one

Arlo planning Ambush #2, we got Kim John Un here, and it’s Terrence time.