#i have best taste in men in this cursed game

[lunian]

me: I wanted to play as Dark Urge for new additional plot relevant things in the story and gameplay

narrator: By that they mean they would just love to see what's kind of horny shit is going on with Gortash in Act 3

[crookedteethed]

HE'S my thing | r.c.

Pairing: (older) Bestfriend's Dad Rafe! x Fem!reader

Summary: You ended things with your best friend's father, but does anything ever truly end?

Warnings: 18+ Semi-public sex (p in v), cursing, cheating in the next room, age gap, Fuckboy!Rafe, angst, usage of "little girl" and 'brat', manhandling, choking

A/N: Barely proofread. Also, thank you for all the love and support on part one!!

Part One

Word Count: 2.8k

"Fuck, Marry, Kill: Mr. Thornton, Mr. Kelce, or Mr. Barry." Maribella had asked you.

You pulled your tanning reflector away from your face to look at your potential candidates.

You and Marble were sunbathing by the pool at Tanny Hill when suddenly, guests began to slowly appear. Then someone started playing music from the speakers, the backyard string lights turned on, and suddenly the grill started crackling with fire.

"Daddy must be throwing one of his summer barbeques." Maribella had hummed.

You observed the three older men, all wearing colorful floral swim trunks, reminiscing about the "good old days" before they had children and wives, unaware that you and Maribella were sizing them up.

Fuck, Marry, Kill.

It was a simple question-and-answer game that you and Maribella often played when you were bored with strangers on the street or celebrity men whom you'd fancy, never with the men in your actual lives.

"Let's see." you elongated. "I'd fuck Mr. Barry, Marry Mr. Thornton, and Kill Mr. Kelce."

"Ouch." Maribella laughs.

"Sorry, Kelce." You shrugged, laughing along with your friend. "What about you?" You asked.

Like you, Maribella paused to observe the men, thus concluding: "None of them. They're all old and have beer belly's."   

"Then why'd you ask me?" you said in disbelief.

"Because." She said snobbishly, "I was testing you. Y'know, it's unhealthy for young girls to be attracted to such old men? Unhealthy."

You rolled your eyes, bringing your tanning reflector back to your face.

Ever since you'd told Maribella that you'd slept with her father, Mr. Cameron, she'd been subtly throwing slick remarks on her disdain for your taste in older men. 

Though she claimed she wasn't upset about you sleeping with Mr. Cameron, you can still sense her animosity toward the situation, which is why you never responded when she made a snide remark.

"Oh, look, it's my dad and his latest bitch he'd gotten from the pound." Maribella snide, and in a timely manner you watched as Rafe and his latest "Bitch" walked through the sliding patio doors.

Rafe had one of those cocky ass grins on his face, the one he would flash to you after cumming deeply inside you without wearing a condom, or the type of snarky grin he would show after whispering something promiscuous in your ear.

The bitch--woman who'd he been talking to appeared to be roughly around his age--maybe a little older, blond, and gangling looking. If you hadn't known The Camerons for so long, you would have assumed this woman was Rafe's wife and Maribella's mother.

You scoffed. "God, I thought there was an age limited when it came to being a slut." you laughed, causing Maribella to laugh along with you.

The woman also laughs, but it's because of something Rafe had whispered in her ear. The tint of your sunglasses had blurred the exact movement of Rafe's plush lips, but you assume he said something along the lines of sweet nothings from Rafe Cameron.

Surely, Maribella hadn't known that you ended things with her father just over a week ago, so she hadn't known just how furious you'd been to see Rafe with another woman. 

So quickly, just like that, he'd forgotten about you, just like you hadn't been the "tightest cunt" he claimed to ever be in. And not to mention, he hadn't even looked at you or glanced your way since the barbecue began. 

"I'm going to be sick." You said.

"You too?" Maribella asked.

You got up from your lounge chair with no plan in mind; you didn't even know where you were going until you found yourself staring angrily at Rafe in front of the grill. 

He'd been flipping over a barbecue rib with a pair of tongs, the blond woman clinging to his back with her chin laying on his shoulders and her arms wrapped around his body.

Yuck. 

Rafe had been wearing one of those comical aprons. His had an image of an animated woman with a coke bottle figure. Though it looked ridiculous on him, you couldn't help but keep staring at his biceps that poked out from the side of the apron, and of course, he'd been in a muscle tee so that you could see just a bit of his nipple peeking to the public, fuck.

"Oh, baby, is this your daughter you told me so much about?" The woman had smiled at you.

You scoff.

It was condescending in how the woman had addressed you; it was how she had called Rafe baby; she'd said it like they'd been together for years. 

And it was how effortlessly beautiful she was. She looked like the type of woman Rafe would go for, prose and expensive-looking. 

It was also how she'd mistaken you for Rafe's daughter rather than for what you were: the tightest cunt Rafe had ever been in.

Rafe peered at you for a quick moment, flipping over another rib.

"Uh, no, she's one of my daughter's friends." Rafe said, his demeanor starting to change to cold and stern. "The foods not done yet, kid." He swated you away.

You scoff again, he knows you're not here to talk about the food. And who does he think he is calling you that, kid, tsk.

You weren't a kid when you could take all 9 inches of him, back then you were a "good girl."

"Rafe--Mr. Cameron, Can we talk? In private? It's about Maribella." You lied.

He barely looked at you as he spoke, "Can't it wait for later, I'm busy?”

"It's important."

"I don't know, baby, if it's about your daughter, you should see what she wants, I can look after the grill." The woman said.

With a look of disdain, you looked at the blonde woman, but had it not been for her, Rafe would not have listened. Just as Rafe was about to remove his apron, the woman seized his jaw and pulled him into a kiss.

In a moment of unawareness, your hand inadvertently swept across the small glass bowl of barbecue sauce, unintentionally shattering the glass and causing some of the sauce to spill onto the women's Prada sandals.

"Oops." You shrug, storming off into the house, in the mitts, you glanced at Maribella, you were thankful she'd been resting with her eyes close and had her earbuds in.

You felt Rafe trailing behind you hot, the sound of his sandals clucking on the ground being the only thing you can focus on.

You attempt to rapidly close the sliding patio door before he could reach you, but it was too late, Rafe had caught onto the door.

"You're really childish, Y/N, you know that?" he spats.

You sped walked through the vacant house, no route in mind.

"Do you hear me little girl?" Rafe sternly says, as if he were talking to Maribella.

Suddenly, you felt the piercing sensation of Rafe's grip on your wrist, and your body being jerked. "Hey--Listen to me when I'm speaking to you."

Under Rafe's grip, you'd been in his mercy, as you looked up into angry eyes.

"Is there a reason why you're acting like such a brat?"

"It just doesn't make sense." You said, your voice shaky from the sound of the lump forming in your throat. "What does she have that I don't? A good credit score, a stable job?"

you struggle to get out of Rafe's hold, but his grip on you was too tight.

"Need I remind me you that you ended things with me?" Rafe gritted.

"But I didn't expect you to move on so quickly!" You shouted. " Did I mean nothing to you?"

Rafe squeezed your wrist, coming closer to your face. "Lower your tone when you're talking to me little girl."

"Fuck you." you sniffled, tears running down your cheeks. You didn't mean to say it, but it was in the heat of the moment, and you were angry.

Rafe's eyes grew darker, and his face had grown angrier, and just by the way he roughly dragged you through the house, you knew you had fucked up.

"Rafe! You're hurting me!" you cried, as he dragged you up the stairs.

"Shut up!" He spat at you. "Of all the nice things I've done for you in the past, this is what I get? A fuck you? 'Dad, Y/n has a flat tire but doesn't have the money for a new one.' 'Dad, Y/n is $100 short on her rent this month.' " Rafe mocked his daughter.

"I'm the one that let your pouge ass even come near here and my daughter, but fuck me, right?" he said.

As Rafe dragged you onto his master bedroom, locking the doors behind him, you felt the tears spilling from your eyes because of how bad you felt remembering all the other ways Mr. Cameron had helped you that hadn't been sexual.

Rafe had pushed you onto the bed, grumbling to himself as he started untying his apron, you watched him with wide eyes as he paced.

"What are you going to do to me?" you squeaked.

"I'm going to fuck some sense into you, because who the hell do you think you are speaking to me like that?" he spat.

"Fuck you." He mocked, grumbling to himself.

And before you knew it, Rafe grabbed the back of your head and his lips had angrily crashed into your tear soaked ones.

As your lips parted, the salty taste of your tears mixed with the sweetness of Rafe's kiss. It was a kiss born of anger and passion, a kiss that set your skin ablaze.

Rafe's hands moved deftly, untangling the knot of your bikini top. Your breasts, full and heavy, spilled free.

Rafe's touch was both urgent and tender, a contradiction that mirrored the storm of emotions swirling within you both.

As Rafe's lips trailed down your neck, you felt a shiver run through your body, a sensation that was both thrilling and comforting. It was as if all your senses had come alive, each one crying out for more.

As Rafe kissed your neck, his hands played with the hem of your bikini bottom, his fingers tempting to touch your most prized possession.

"Rafe, I need it." You whined, as he put your hand in your bikini bottoms, using his palm to cup your wet heat. "I need you."

Not long after, Rafe's hand slipped out of your bottoms. He was now unbuckling the belt to his shorts and pulling down his pants and briefs.

Rafe didn't even bother to pull your bikini bottoms down before pushing all 9 inches into your cunt; he fucked you through the makeshift opening he made by hooking his fingers through the crotch of your bottom. 

Rafe's thrusts were urgent and deep, causing you to yelp at the bitter sweet intrusion.

Usually Rafe was slow with the first couple of strokes inside of you--so your cunt could accommodate to his size--but today he was merciless.

Because of the wetness of your cunt, Rafe's cock had easily slipped in and out of you, but to you each thrust felt like a burning sting.

Nonetheless, You moaned as he filled you, your hands grasping at his back, pulling him closer and closer.

Rafe cerulean eyes never left yours--if you could describe the look on his face, you would describe it as a look of hatred, but as you looked down to where your bodies connected--the slick that coated yours and his sex organs--this wasn't hatred. So what was it?

You called out his name in pleasure.

The makeshift opening in your bikini bottoms stretched to accommodate his thickness, the thin fabric digging into your skin as he pounded into you. With each thrust, he pushed your body further into his soft bedsheets. With each thrust he pushed you further into pure bliss.

"This is why I don't fuck with young girls." Rafe muttered. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he sought to go even deeper.

"You all are too needy and in for it because of the daddy issues." He said under his breath. Then suddenly, as if it was used for leverage, Rafe's hand clasped around your throat; your mouth had formed the shape of an '0'.

As his pace quickened, your breath quickened too, short gasps escaping your lips.

Rafe's mouth had been inches away from yours; you arched your back just enough to hover over his plush lips, and you sucked in his breath as his grip tightened around your gullet. 

Rafe kissed you, his tongue swiping the inside of your mouth.

The sensation of being so full, of being taken with such urgency, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You knew this encounter was reckless, but the thrill of it only added to your arousal. You wanted this—needed this—and as Rafe's thrusts became more frenzied, you knew he was close.

And just by the way your cunt had fluttered around his length, you knew that you were close too.

And then, just as you gone to moan, you heard a knock at Rafe's door.

"Sweetheart? Are you in there?"

It was her.

Rafe's hand--the one clasped around your throat, now covered your mouth.

His cock had faltered inside of you once he heard the sound of her voice, but he kept fucking you anyway.

"Uh-yeah, babe, I'm just taking a break from the party." He said, his eyes penetrating through your skull; his voice sounded as if he weren't penetrating through your cunt. 

"Oh, ok. Just telling you the ribs are done, should I put the hot dogs on next?" She asked, clueless about her boyfriend fucking his daughter's best friend. 

You found yourself enjoying how fucked up this was--how satisfying it was to know that Rafe was fucking you and not her right now.

"Yeah--shit--" involuntarily, your cunt had squeezed Rafe's length. "Fuck. Y-yeah do that." Rafe said. 

"Or maybe I can join you? "Take a break" from the party together?" The woman had said seductively, causing you to roll your eyes at her pass at Rafe. 

"Say the word, Y/N." Rafe whispered. "Say the word and I can have her gone."

You had hoped the room had been soundproof from the way Rafe pace had quickened. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air, a testament to the intensity of your passion.

You moaned loudly, but it had been muffled by Rafe's palm. Your nails digged into his shoulders as you matched his rhythm.

"Baby?" The woman said.

Your breath quickened as you neared your peak, Rafe eyes never leaving yours. "Say the word." he mouthed.

Fuck did you want Rafe, fuck did you want him so bad.

But Rafe wasn't supposed to be "Rafe" to you; he was supposed to be Mr. Cameron.

And Mr. Cameron wasn't supposed to be fucking you. 

You both had crossed a line, and there was nothing more to your relationship than what was behind that line. No matter how much you daydreamt about it, this--you and Rafe together--could never be a thing.

With a final, powerful thrust, you'd reached your climax. Shortly after, Rafe had reached his own, his body tensing as he filled your cunt with his release. 

You could feel his warmth inside you, a satisfying sensation that left you breathless and wanting more and, more evidently, filled with dread.

As he slowly withdrew, you could feel his length slide out of you, leaving you with a delicious emptiness that only he could fill.

When Rafe realized you weren't going to tell him to tell her to leave, he made a face at you, a face that said- if you didn't know any better- he was disappointed by your choice. 

"Baby, are you alright in there?" The woman said. 

"Yeah, could you, could you give me a moment?" Rafe had asked her, and shortly after, you heard the obnoxious flapping of her Prada sandals flapping away.

Rafe got himself situated before helping you. 

He tied your bikini top back to its place and your bikini bottoms.

And then gotten a warm towel and wiped the dried tears on your cheeks, and then he wiped away the remainder of his and your cum that slid down your thighs. 

You kind of just sat there with your head looking at your lap, trying to avoid Rafe's gaze.

"Will you stay for the rest of the barbecue?" Rafe asked. I would really appreciate it if you did." 

Rafe had waited for you to say something, but you never did. When he realized you weren't going to say anything, he had nothing to say himself, as he figured that it was officially over between you two, and what more can you say once you've reached the end of something? 

Tag list- @nemesyaaa @theeternaloptimistt @xcinnamonmalfoyx @starkeysbebe 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[malfoys-demigod]

Hiii I don’t know if you write these type of things but could you write a fluff where reader and Logan have a baby girl and their planning their birthday party with some of the X-men? Thanks!!

Planning for the baby girl’s 1st birthday party

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: I kinda divided scenes into 2 scenarios and made the baby girl almost 1 year old! I hope that was okay, love! Enjoy!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Preparations for the Cake:

“Would it be a cliche if we decided on strawberry cake since we’re throwing a birthday party for a baby girl?”

This was an important question asked by Rogue, who tasked herself with baking the cake.

You looked at Logan with an inquisitive look. This first birthday party for your child was sincerely important and as much as you wanted to throw a classic first birthday party, you somehow did not want to turn classic into typical.

“She does make a point, Logan.” You noted, putting a finger on your chin as you started brewing deep thoughts on a question Logan thought didn’t need much pondering.

“Doll, it’s not like she’s gonna remember the taste of her first birthday cake,” he chuckled lightly, hoping you wouldn’t take that comment seriously by any chance.

What he got in return was you, trying your best to pull off a serious look, but the corners of your mouth said something else. “You are definitely not getting any cake! AT ALL!”

Logan took a step closer, playing a better game than you with a better serious look. “Is that right, darl?”

As he was towering over you, unsure of whether to kiss you or just keep making you flustered, Rogue, forgetting about her two parent figures being right in front, made a really, really bad fake cough sound.

“Can’t you two continue that later? In your bedroom? I really need to know what to bake! Don’t you guys want to taste it out before the party?”

“Strawberry’s fine, Marie,” Logan murmured, planting a soft kiss on your forehead and breaking eye contact between the two of you to give a small nod to his daughter figure.

The decorations:

“Oh, aren’t these balloons just the cutest!” You said in awestruck.

Storm and Jean came back from shopping around town, buying all sorts of decorations from balloons, banners, balloons shaped into letters, etc.

They let you and Logan walk around the living room of the mansion alone, strategizing where to place all the newly-bought decorations.

Using your powers, you started floating around the room, drafting placements for the balloons first, placing them around the wall that included the fireplace while Logan was pumping air into the rest of the balloons.

As you placed some tape on the balloons, you heard a loud pop, followed by a loud, “SHIT!”, and… followed by another loud pop and same curse.

You looked down to the ground, seeing Logan standing with agitation on his face. He was looking around the two balloons he popped, now onto you as you flew towards him.

“Logan, hey,” you landed, walking to him, “Are you alright?”

You placed your hands on his face, cupping him with a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah, I think I made the balloons too big and they suddenly popped after that.”

It seemed Logan felt bad about the two wasted balloons. He looked down and muttered a small sorry, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

A small chuckle came out of your mouth, adoring your ‘tough guy’ significant other act so unease about such a small issue. “They were just two balloons, Logan,” you assured him, “How ‘bout I take over pumping out the last balloons for now and you can place the ready ones around, yeah?”

Logan expressed tenderness, smiling at his loved one and planting a short but loving kiss on your lips.

He turned around, picking up the balloons and placing them beside the ones you placed.

Before he could place more, he looked over to you as you were pumping air into the balloons and said, “Hey,” he said, getting your attention, “How’d I get so lucky?”

There was a twinkle in your eye as you heard his question, “You already know my answer, Logan.”

Logan turned around again, now smiling from ear to ear to himself, still unable to process the fact that he got an amazing woman by his side, and now.. an amazing little piece of him and his woman in the form of a dear baby girl.

Whether he was nonchalant about it or not, he’s been dying to throw his baby girl the best birthday party he and his significant other could ever give.

[loviingpedri]

tasting blondies - mason mount and joe burrow

prompt: noticing a pattern in your love life.

joe b x reader

ex!mason mount x reader

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, arguing

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

sitting on the couch with you boyfriend, joe. you ran your fingers through his short hair.

“i can’t believe you did this.” you laughed as both of you smiled.

“yeah, me either. i decided to change it up for the summer. do something for the new season.” he held you tight, smelling his strong cologne.

“if it’s one thing, you look good. really good.” you clicked your tongue at the emphasis of the word ‘really’.

and that’s when the flashback hit you.

slowly touching his hair, admiring the white chocolate color. at the same time a few years ago, you would be ending a messy situation with a boy with a similar haircut, mason mount.

“is there something wrong?” joe asked you as your expression changed.

“no, nothing is wrong. something just came in mind.”

you love joe, seriously. the memories of june 2023 always come back to haunt you. meeting the famous other footballer, changing your life. you experienced so many things within a month. you were so attached, blinded by love, nothing would’ve seen it coming.

on mason’s summer vacation, he invited you to go to spain with him. of course you accepted, you wanted to see what this relationship could bring to your life.

in the end, it was pain, regret, and heartbreak.

joe was staring at your facial features and talking gently, “you can talk to me.”

“it’s nothing. just some old memories came back. it was never important anyway.” your cleared your throat, desperately wanting to change the topic on the conversation.

“is it about that one guy you told me about? mason mount, right?”

you looked at him, trying to find a good answer.

“yeah, but i don’t wanna think about him. he’s long gone in my life. i’m craving some brownies, what about you?”

laughing at you, “i think it’s funny, the guys sent in the group chat of him when i first showed my hair. they said it was funny how you’re dating another blonde now.”

“i never thought of that.” you laid your back on the coach, really taking in the information of the pattern you just figured out.

“you know, you never told me what happened with him.” you looked at joe, a lump formed in your throat.

————flashbacks————

“are you serious right now, mase?” you pushed him away from you as he was attempting to explain.

“it wasn’t like that!”

“you use that same fucking excuse for everything.”

“i’m not the one who followed someone else on this vacation.” he threw his arms up.

“everything is about you. isn’t it? i went on this vacation because i was in love with you. mase, you can’t be serious right now.”

“nobody told you to catch feelings, alright. i thought we both assumed this wasn’t gonna be serious.” you scoffed at him.

“so you took this as a joke? i am not a joke.”

“holy shit, you’re actually unbelievable. we were never official!”

“to you. you think mind games is funny?”

“i only thought this was a summer fling. i thought you were gonna see other people, like me. i wasn’t gonna stay in chelsea forever and i was sure you weren’t gonna stay.”

tears forming in your eyes. you were in disbelief.

“of course i was gonna stay with you. i was ready to leave everything behind to follow you. i thought we had something.”

“sorry y/n. you thought wrong.”

————flashback ended————

you cleared your throat as you poured white chocolate chips into the batter.

“so yeah, that was my lame ex.” you gave him a warm smile as you shared the most vulnerable part of your life.

“you didn’t deserve that, seriously.” joe stroked your hair as he ate a few chips.

“the past is past. the pain is healed, and i’ve got the best boyfriend ever.”

joe kissed your forehead as the oven beeped after it was done pre-heating.

-

sitting on the couch with freshly baked blondies.

“i think you have some sort of magic on men.” joe said, taking a bite after.

“what?”

“you start dating a guy, then all of a sudden, he goes blonde.” he shrugged his shoulders.

“i’ve never thought of that. i’m just really that powerful then.”

sharing a laugh, you were proud of the person you became. the pain healed, and so did your heart.

because, in the end, your feelings are valid. and you learned a lesson that no matter how much something hurts you, you can find happiness somewhere else, for the better.

[sanakimohara]

“COLA” - B.C.

“I got a taste for men who are older…”

Synopsis: Having a crush on her best friend’s older brother was a secret Y/n L/n had managed to hide for years. She presumed those feelings had disappeared over time, but when Chris—or rather, Chan, as he’s called by the rest of the world—makes a surprise visit to Australia to spend his last break of the year with his family, Y/N is bewildered to find that she, in fact, is still infatuated with her best friend's brother. Unbeknownst to her, Chan is already well aware of it and isn’t above taking advantage of her innocent crush on him. All fun and games, right?

WARNINGS: [MDNI! 18+] pining, fluff, smut, a bit of angst, cursing, smoking, and alcohol use. oh and the DDGL dynamic is implied…

A/N: Let’s hope I don’t scrap this and at least finish writing it…also Chan is his current age 25 and the reader is 18+

—————————————————————

—————————————————————

*click click click*

The pen in her hand chirped the sound repeatedly as she anxiously toyed with it. Her foot tapped under the desk she sat at, another sign of her stress level rising and a less noisy indicator of nervousness to her peers seated around her. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to clear her racing mind for a split second to conjure up an answer to the question printed on the paper in front of her.

It seemed impossible to focus on the invisible weight of perfectionism that she subconsciously mounted. It was just a test. A written one. No big deal. She’d been completing assessments like this all year. However, the notion of it being the final and most important test of the year had Y/n second-guessing knowledge she’d consumed tirelessly throughout the year. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she inhaled and exhaled as slowly as her body would allow her to before her gaze refocused on the question.

She scanned it once, then twice; the answer to it eventually peeked through the fog that was her brain. She jotted it down with urgency before flipping the paper over to signal she was done. The professor monitoring the room full of boarding students lifts their heads at the sound of a paper turning. To no surprise, Y/N is the culprit of the clumsy noise but receives no reprimand from the instructor. Instead, they smile and motion for the young woman to hand her packet of questions in.

Y/N wastes no time in doing so, gathering her personal belongings before retrieving the paper. She cautiously descends the stairs that lead towards the professor's desk, and when she reaches her destination, she smiles sweetly and places the packet in the professor’s waiting hand. “You had me worried for a moment Ms, L/n,” they joke with a knowing smile and said girl nervously glanced at her shoes before answering in a hushed voice with a coy smile. “I was worried for myself actually…” It’s the truth. Her anxiety always worsened under pressure -especially during tests.

The professor maintained their smile and began grading her packet which slightly unnerved Y/n. “I don’t see why you’d be worried Ms. L/n. Your work has been exceptional the whole year….” The paused, pen pointed right at Y/n, “…you shouldn’t worry so much all the time. You can relax sometimes, it’s healthy for you, you know?” Y/n nodded, internally grimacing as they repeated advice she’d heard a thousand times before, but found it increasingly harder to do in a prestigious school without a single friend there to “relax” with.

She wasn’t a social butterfly but she did prefer the company of friends she’d grown close to throughout her childhood. Unfortunately, most of them attended other universities, started a family early, or just down right fell of the face of the earth at some point. The only person she had left to spend time with was Hannah Bang. Her best friend since grade school who had chosen to attained university closer to her family.

Y/n wished she could’ve done the same but her parents would never allow it, so here she was being told to find joy in her life of education without a single person to do so with. “I’ll keep that in mind Professor. May I leave now?” Y/n already knew they wouldn’t deny her request since it was the last day of the semester but as polite as she was walking out without properly asking didn’t seem right.

The professor stared at her a bit longer, a sort of concern swimming in their eyes as they processed her question. A moment passed and then the instructor wished her a good break and allowed her to leave with a simple nod of their head. Y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she exited the cathedral like seminar room and entered the limestone halls of the large campus.

Not many students were out and about and even less took notice of her so she pulled her phone out and checked her messages. A smile appeared on her face as a new message alert from Hannah Bang shown on her screen.

>> You’re still coming right? 🤨

Y/n rolled her eyes at Hannah’s sarcasm. She could practically hear Hannah asking her this with a trademark snicker in her tone.

<< yes, I wouldn’t miss it for the world :)

>> Yes you actually would. Well, for a test or smth 🙄

<< wow you got me there Han…

>> I in fact do.

>> no but seriously…

>> I won’t forgive you if you cancel last minute like you did last year.. :(

Y/n cringes remembering how she backed out of her plans with Hannah last minute last holiday. There were a mixture of reasons she’d canceled but the main and most truthful reason was because Hannah had mentioned her older brother would also be at home for the holidays.

Like a coward, Y/n immediately backed out of staying with the Bang family hearing the news that he was there. She felt so ashamed and selfish of that decision and so when Hannah offered Y/n a chance to spend her break with them again this year she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.

It also helped that Hannah mentioned her older brother wouldn’t be making appearance like last time. Y/n gulped, face turning rose red, tummy doing backflips as the thought of seeing Christopher Bang in the flesh again caused her to malfunction. She chewed on her inner cheek, mindlessly wandering to lean up against a nearby wall as the few memories of him she’d religiously studied for years flooded her head. It was like all the logic left and all she could think about was him. After all these years she’d thought he’d be a distant memory or at least a less vivid one.

That just wasn’t the case though and no matter how many times she denied her attraction to Hannah’s older brother, the mere mention of him had her dumbfounded with adoration.

*buzz buzz*

Y/n snapped out of her lovesick daze as her phone vibrated. She’d totally forgotten to answer Hannah’s text and tried not face palm herself for it.

>> Leaving me on read is so mean.

<< Shush you’ll survive Han. I just blanked for a minute sorry.

>> Sure whatever you say 😔

<< don’t try to guilt me Han. You leave me on read like 99 % of the time

>> damn you got me there.

>> okay so you’re coming right? My mom keeps asking me so hurry up and decide!

<< I said you yes I’ll be there Han…

<< Just to be clear though….Chris won’t be there this year right?

>> …no why?

>> are you mad at him for something cause you asked me that last year too..🤨

<< NO I’m not mad at him lol!…

<< I was just wondering cause ya know he seems so busy in Korea with his band.

>> Oh I see.. I forget that you’re a closeted Stay sometimes.

>> No, he won’t be here though. Told our dad him and the members have too many end of the year award shows to preform at this time.

Y/n relaxed her body reading Hannah’s last text. A twinge of disappointment hit her heart but overall she was glad Chris wouldn’t be an obstacle in her break. Besides being attracted to him, her and Chris got along fairly well the few times she’d interacted with him while hanging out with Hannah. Due to his career and their slight age gap there wasn’t much Y/n could hold a conversation with him about and it was no help that she was in fact a fan of Stray Kids since their debut.

The pride she felt watching them on stage -watching Chan perform- was immeasurable but she assumed if he ever found out about her love for his idol activities he’d avoid her entirely.

A double edged sword that Y/n wasn’t fond of.

She told herself it wouldn’t be an issue this year though. Spending time with Hannah and Mrs & Mr Bang was all she wanted. Her family weren’t very….warm to be around. Especially not around the holidays so she preferred the company and hospitality of the Bang family anytime they offered it.

Y/n pushed her body off the cold stone wall, continuing her walk to her dorm suit across the campus as she texted Hannah back.

<< okay.

<< omw to start packing, see you in like 5 hours i think?..

>> your uni is only 4 hours away dummy…but yeah I’ll see you then :)

She shut her phone off, slipping it into her bag of belongings, and continuing on her way towards her dorm.

The whole walk there she was smiling, already reminding about the time she’d spent with the Bang family. How Hannah was and always will be her favorite person but most of all Chris, and the way his presence melted over her existence like warm honey.

As much as she wanted to taste its divine sweetness she knew it’d only make a mess of things…

—————————————————————

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This was a series posted on my main acc but I decided to move it here. Please lmk what you think and if I should continue it. I already have PT2 in the works…

BONUS CONTENT +

[morganitering]

Because I'm the Weakest II: The Women Who Never Won

Pairings/character dynamics: Satosugu, Shoko and reader, Nanami and reader, implied shoko x utahime

Contains and warnings: DARK FIC/DEAD DOVE fem!reader, Suicidal ideation, rape aftermath, referenced rape (not written out in this chap), depression, alcohol abuse, misogyny & sexism, internalized sexism, sexual harassment on minors done by minors, victim blaming (thoughts), self harm, angst, hurt & comfort, I call noncon with the official word for it

Word count: ~9,6k

Summary: There's certain desperation when you try to keep your head above water. You were drowning and all you wanted to do was to forget, the weight on your shoulders unbearable. Despite the cards you were dealt with you found yourself among allies as the web of untold memories started to unfold.

A/N: Hey! Yall waited long for this, sorry about that. I have no idea how to tag this but I'll just do it somehow, bc this is a tricky chapter. Here yall get to dive deeper in the stuff that has gone down before the events that took place in 1st chap and get a hug from Shoko. This is hopefully the last installment of this. Read the tags carefully as always and make informed decisions based on that and take care of yourself. Shit can get heavy, but I'm trying to do this in good taste.

Read on ao3 part I

Shoko Ieiri had worked a long time with people who suffered. She had seen it all, limbs cut off, even the toughest of sorcerers reduced to crying messes as they practically had their innards falling to the floor. There’s something utterly horrifying watching a patient, no – a friend scream in pain when even her skills were not enough. Funerals came and went, the white sheet thrown over the deceased on the operation table in the same routine way she’d change her linens. Nothing really shocked her. 

That’s what she liked to think. 

Your visits have been more frequent. It started with bruises and sprained ankles. Then it was broken bones that soon turned to puncture wounds, your clothes sticky with deep red and dirt. When she asked about it, you laughed it off saying it’s nothing, just a silly little mishap, “I was too reckless in the heat of the moment.”  But your eyes were empty, your words hollow like a dead tree. Of course Shoko did her job, without asking too much. You’re an adult and you’ll speak about it if you want to, right? Her job was to keep you alive. Your job was to exorcise curses. 

Shoko and you had been close too, hanging out with the two men, but at some point in high school she had withdrawn from the group. Gojo and Geto had tried to keep in touch with her in adulthood, inviting her as well to spend time together as the four of them, but she had always declined, smoothly changing their relationship to acquaintances at best. She heard enough of the despicable men from you. The only times she was in direct contact with Gojo and Geto was work related and god how she hoped that it would stay that way. She’ll play that pretend game almost happily. 

Shoko closed the office door the day turning to evening, sundown coloring the city in hues of orange and yellow. She held onto her little black purse, thankfully it was friday. A man stood on the long corridor, standing upright as if he did not belong here. He looked indifferent, almost bored.

“Nanami.” 

“Ieiri.” 

They greeted each other with a curt nod. 

“So what brings you here? You seem healthy enough,” Shoko asked as they walked to the open parking lot, only a few cars in sight. The warm summer sun caressed her cheeks, wind making her long hair flow in waves.

“I think she’s going through something,” Nanami stated as a matter of fact talking about you. He and you had gone on missions together, but something about you wasn’t right. He had seen the way you clutch your weapon, throw yourself at the enemy recklessly almost as if you had a death wish. It’s like you waited for your end. 

“No shit.” Shoko chuckled amused. It was as clear as a day if you just had eyes on yourself. “Why do you care?” 

“I’ve seen enough people spiral to know where it leads. You’re a healer, can’t you help?” His voice was thoughtful, not betraying a hint of emotions. 

“I can’t help a person who doesn’t want it,” Shoko said. “But I’ll try to figure something out.” 

“And that is enough. Thank you.” 

***

You hated meetings and rarely took part in them if you could avoid them. You had not met Gojo or Geto after the unfortunate night. If there were some work related things where there was a possibility to meet either of the men, you requested to be part of them remotely or that someone would just forward the key points. But after doing this for a few months Yaga had sent you a passive-aggressive email writing that it is absolutely mandatory for you to show yourself at least once in a while. You didn’t bother to answer him with anything other than a polite see you there.

Honestly you were tired. Your whole body ached in overexertion. Sleep escaped from you, ran a marathon around the block never stopping at your house, and every time you seemed to catch a break, hazy images you rather forbid being real filled your vision. Your eyebags told a story of exhaustion, your body shrinking in every possible way away. You went to see a doctor, not Shoko, just some normal practitioner from the private sector that you ended up paying yourself sick for. 

The doctor gave you pills to help you with sleep. He asked you if you were stressed or going through some sorts of crisis. You answered with a diligent no and explained that you’ve always had issues with sleep, but you were otherwise okay. He looked at you, raising his eyebrow in suspicion, the glasses on his head hung on his nose by a thread. He decided to believe you as he wrote the prescription, but insisted you took home pamphlets about depression and crisis hotlines. 

You tried the pills. You did fall asleep, but only after a panic attack wrecked through your body as the effect of the medication forced you into a deep slumber. The pills made you feel your pulse in your whole body. “It’s a quite strong product, previously used to treat psychosis, but nowadays it’s for patients with severe insomnia. Take it one hour before sleep. The effect might be really sudden.”  

When you woke up you decided to throw them away. It’s better to not to sleep if it meant that you’d go free from the horrors of the night you had experienced. 

The huge meeting table sprawled out horizontally and was able to sit around fifteen people in it. It had several small electric outlets for computers and tablets. Light poured in from the big windows, the blinds only halfway done. You stared at the weird scribbling on the white board that Principal Yaga was wiping furiously, muttering things about how students shouldn’t be let in this room under any circumstance since they can’t differentiate which markers are okay to use on it. 

You exchanged pleasantries with him. The room was devoid of people since you were too early. You swung your leather bag on the back of the upholstered office chair and sat yourself down.

Shoko walked in and her face lit up a little bit when she saw you sitting there. It was subtle, you thought that you were maybe the only one who could differentiate that expression from her. She sat next to you, a faint hint of neroli wrapping you to its calming aroma. 

Next came Meimei and then Utahime who came running to you two giving a happy hug to Shoko. They were so cute together, you thought to yourself as you fidgeted with your slightly too big shoes, constantly removing them and pushing them back to your feet. People don’t usually like small talk, but nonetheless the group chatted with each other. They had to, because it’s polite and you were coworkers. You thought that small talk was easy. The script of it was burnt to your brains for the rest of your life. You get to keep people at an arm's length and keep up appearances, so what’s there not to like? 

A familiar blonde man stood in the doorway. You checked your phone for the time. Only five minutes before the official start. Yuki also appeared after Nanami.  

“Hello,” he said and nodded at you as he sat himself next to you. Your whole body stiffened around him. It was hard to look him in the eyes and even harder to work missions with.

It was ten minutes past the official time when the meeting was supposed to start. 

“Sorry we are late.” Two men marched in the room with confident strides and took their place in front of you facing you, that was sitting in between Nanami and Shoko, Utahime next to the doctor. Suguru sat down next to Yuki leaving a space for Satoru who had Meimei next to him. 

Hearing Suguru’s voice made your skin crawl. 

“It’s fine,” Yaga said and looked over his shoulder to look at the white screen he had pulled down earlier with only a blue screen reflecting on the fabric. “I can’t seem to get this work anyway,” he mumbled. 

“Do you need help?” Suguru walked over to the man struggling over his laptop. “Have you checked the HDMI-cable?” 

“Of course I have, I just don’t understand why it won't work. We have Ijichi remote today,” he muttered partially to himself.  

“Let me.” 

You sat fidgeting on your chair focusing on everything else than the two men and their presence that suffocated you. If you were a candle they’d be snuffing you out but not properly, no, that would be too kind. They’d always let enough air in so that you’d never be completely put out. 

“Hello to you girls.. and Nanami,” Satoru flashed a playful grin at the four of you. Your head jerked involuntarily to look at the man. Thank god he has a habit of covering his eyes, but somehow that made him even worse. 

“Hello. How are you?” Nanami nodded politely. 

“I’m well. Hopefully the work isn’t stressing you out too much.” Satoru’s smile widened. 

“Speaking of work, I’ve heard that you and her have started doing missions together,” Satoru nudged his head towards you as he spoke directly to Nanami. “I actually green lighted the idea of sorcerers working more together. It’s good to practice teamwork and I put in good words for the two of you, since you compliment each other with the techniques you have. ” Satoru moved his head to look your way as he drew out his words in a way that you’d be sure to catch the dual meaning.

The wall flashed a few times showing the computer screen and it’s default wallpaper for only a moment and after that went back to blue. 

“An idea that I actually can get behind,” Nanami said agreeably. 

Your eye twitched. 

“Really? That was your doing?” You barely hid the anger of your voice. One more push and you’d pour your life savings on an amoral hitman, not that you’d believe that anyone could finish him off. It was a thought just for you so you could at least think about being mean in your own petty way. 

“Not a fan of working in groups of two? How about in groups of three?” 

“You fucking piece of-” 

“Okay I think it’s working now,” Yaga put his hands together straightening himself properly. Suguru walked over to Satoru, slightly shaking his head before he sat down. You heard Utahime’s quiet “okayy..” whispered in the awkward silence. 

“Unfortunately principal Gakuganji wasn’t able to make it today, he’s sick or something.”

You heard Gojo scoff audibly. 

“Try to respect him.” Yaga shot a glare in the young teacher’s way. 

“Ijichi and Nitta have gathered data about the hotspots of cursed activity,” he continued and opened up the window to teams only to be greeted by a tired looking black haired man in a suit. The background behind him was red, it looked like some type of wallpaper and small paintings covered the walls. You reckoned it was a hotel room. Or a motel, you really could not tell. 

“Ijichi, do you hear me? Would you like to take over?” Yaga’s voice boomed louder as if he wasn’t already near his computer. 

The grainy picture of the tired man smiling uncomfortably stayed still a little too long to be taken as a real time reaction to Yaga’s question. 

“I hear you. Sorry, the connection here is a bit bad.” Ijichi’s voice echoed in the office room. The picture of a slideshow appeared on the wall, making Ijichi’s face smaller. 

The map of Tokyo loomed on the wall as everyone stared at it intensely, more or less dozing off. Some parts of it had big red circles on them and Ijichi explained the way these places were having exceptionally heavy activity. He reckoned that partially the rise in activity tied to the sorcerers working more missions together leaving less people available. Ijichi also showed statistics comparing the effectiveness of sorcerers based in Tokyo and Kyoto. 

You were about to lose your mind, your body still pumping adrenaline after the conversation with Gojo. Everyone else seemed to be bored, oblivious to your struggle. Satoru had yawned at least three times in the last ten minutes, Shoko and Utahime were both interested in their nails. Even Suguru looked tired and he was pretty good at hiding his thoughts. The only ones who did not look outwardly dead inside were Yaga and Nanami. 

“Thank you Ijichi for your hard work,” Yaga said and Ijichi nodded smiling. The pop up of the slideshow vanished from the screen leaving Ijichi’s face in a huge resolution looming onto the wall. 

“We are going to take in account the effects of pairing up sorcerers. I’m not entirely in charge of how long this trial will take,” Yaga said. “Ieiri has this trial affected the health care aspect in any way?” 

Shoko cleared her throat tapping open the ipad in front of her, her nails making a satisfying click click sound. 

“The injuries have lessened,” she started. That’s good, you thought. “But the severity has increased,” she said with a serious face.

“Why is that?” Principal scrunched his eyebrows together. 

“In my professional opinion it is due to people being more brazen when having a partner. This can be seen especially in lower grade sorcerers, who are prone to believing that they are invincible when someone backs them up.” Everyone had turned to look at the doctor who played with her hair idly as she spoke. 

“And the second grade and up?”

“It happens less. But there are some, even first grade sorcerers, who are accident prone,” Shoko said and quickly looked at you, not long enough for others to pick up on that she was speaking about you.

Gojo’s phone rang in the middle of the conference. He left the room with an apology and never came back. Relief and anger ignited in you playing tug of war in your heart as your eyes followed him bitterly.

“I think this is all. I’ll send everyone the upcoming jobs, but if no one has anything to say, I think we can conclude this meeting here,” Yaga said, the choir of thank yous and goodbyes filling the room. 

You stretched yourself, happy to be on your feet again. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Nanami tried to get your attention. 

You stood in the room that was quickly emptying out of people. Shoko awkwardly hung around in a small distance from you and Nanami, trying to pretend that she wasn’t listening to your conversation. 

“I don’t entirely understand the conversation between you and Gojo, but if I have somehow disrespected you I offer my deepest apologies.” Nanami’s voice was soft. Your heart ached as you realized how bad your words must have appeared to him. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s not about you. You’ve done nothing..” You trailed off as you saw the tall curse eating man walk outside with a sly smile on his lips.

“That’s a relief but if I may be so blunt, I have a hunch that there is something bothering you,” Nanami said. 

You looked at him and chewed your lower lip nervously. This was all their fault. If they had not done what they did, you would not be in this position. The least they could have done is to keep the names of people you know out of their mouths. 

“I’m sorry to leave you hanging like this, but can we finish this conversation later?” You  hurried past him, only hearing Nanami mumble the word ‘sure’ like a kicked puppy and you said goodbye to Shoko agreeing on staying in touch with her.

The corridor was almost empty as you walked through the school building frantically searching for that bastard of a man. Your footsteps echoed on the wood as you arrived at a not so well known exit of the building. Geto stood in front of the dual doors, half heartedly pushing it open as he furiously wrote something on his phone. 

You yelled out his name, but he did not bother to react to you. You closed in on the man that was still standing back towards you. Anger surged in you as adrenaline made you braver than what you normally would be. You were supposed to just grab the ends of his hair that were sprawled across his back, but in the heat of the moment your impulse control had another lapse as you kept on raising your hand. A fist closed around the bun that had been carefully crafted on his scalp and you dug your fingers around the hair tie and then yanked, hard. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” He turned around stepping out of the doorway letting it close properly with a thump and he closed the distance between you for good. His eyes shot daggers at you. 

“You did not pay attention to me.” You shook your hand out of the spare strands that were stuck on your palm and offered the small hair tie back to him. 

“Well you got it now,” he hissed. “You can keep that as a souvenir. I don’t want anything that a filthy bitch like you has touched,” he said, the calm composure nowhere in sight. 

A filthy bitch? Really? Then maybe you should break up with Satoru if this is your deal breaker.. That’s what you wanted to say, but you held back your tongue. 

Geto took a deep breath, calming himself down, slipping on the mask that you were more used to seeing. He put his phone back in his pocket.

“What do you want?” 

“You told me,” you started, tears threatening to flow over. “You told me that I can just leave and do whatever I want. Why do you keep tormenting me? Why do you let Gojo do what he does?” Your voice broke as you started crying openly. You hated it, it made you weak. No. You were weak. 

“Firstly, I’m not his guardian. He can do what he wants.” He sounded like a smartass. 

“Second of all, never. And I repeat. Never, lay a hand on me ever again, especially on my hair.” You rolled your eyes. 

Of course it was the hair that ticked him off completely. It was his crown, the only thing he had ever been able to take care of besides Satoru. Suguru loved to flaunt himself as the calm one, the kind one, but the exterior had always had some cracks in it. No amount of paint was able to hide the rotten wall behind it. 

“I can forgive your outburst at Satoru’s, but now that you’re in your right mind, you won’t get second chances.” 

“I don’t want ‘second chances’. I want you to leave me the fuck alone so I can do my job,” you yelled at him. 

“Lower your voice. Or do you want to air out all the dirty laundry for everyone?” Geto hushed you. 

“It’s not my ‘laundry’, it’s fucking yours!” You roared and tears fell down your cheeks blurring your vision. Your face felt hot as it got wrapped in the wrath of your words. 

Geto did not answer you, instead he chose to stare you down, not moving at all as if he was a statue. He looked like a child throwing a tantrum when things did not go his way, his face contorting to a sneer that could challenge any rich spoiled brat. You panted and wiped your face with the rough backside of your palm. 

“Move.”

“Ladies first,” he snickered childishly and kicked open the heavy door with his foot as he stepped slightly to the side. God this man hangs out too much with Gojo. 

As you left the school grounds barely holding your breakdown away, there was one figure in the corridors hugging the wall near the exit, clutching onto her purse. 

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, 2006

“Truth or dare?” Satoru asked, popping the pink bubblegum in the air, sucking the sticky material back in his mouth to chew on loudly. 

“Truth,” Shoko said, placing another cigarette in her mouth. She smoked especially heavily when she was drinking. 

Satoru had managed to bring a whole six pack of beer to the picnic whereas Suguru had found a travel size vodka bottle from his parents. Shoko had brought a package of different berries and salty crackers with her. 

“If you could have any technique in the world, which one would you have?” Satoru asked. He looked at the clear blue sky and the way the summer breeze pushed on the white clouds. 

Shoko played with the corner of the blanket as she thought deeply about his question. She stared at the shoes she had placed on the grass and the manicure on her toes that Utahime had insisted on putting on her. 

“I think I’d keep this one,” she smiled wistfully. 

“Really? You wouldn’t want my powers?” Satoru looked at her tilting his head to the side. He spat out the chewing gum and placed it on the plastic lid that belonged to the packaging of berries. He did not like it when things ran out of flavor, always searching for something more. 

“No. I don’t envy you at all. I just want a happy life and that’s all” Shoko answered his gaze, with a gentle smile. “Besides, I like the way I am and I suppose I can help people like this,” she added. 

Satoru hummed. He was clearly dissatisfied with the answer. 

He did not exactly know why. 

“Satoru, that's sad. You should ask something fun,” Suguru pointed out and took a sip from the beer can. 

The three of them sat on a grassy hill that had a pretty decent view of the city and the park below it. Shoko leaned against the huge tree behind her back. The cicadas were performing their own concert with the hum of motorways working as their orchestra.  

“You figure out better questions then,” Satoru pouted, but wasn’t actually hurt. 

“Isn’t it my turn to ask though?” 

Shoko looked in the distance watching closely how a woman jogged with her shiba inu, her ponytail swishing in the same rhythm as the chord of her headphones. Both men nodded slightly out of sync. 

“Satoru truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

“Who’s the hottest person you know?” Her eyes twinkled teasingly. 

“Waka Inoue of course. She’s sexy as hell!” Satoru slapped his hand on his heart as if he was saluting. 

“Really? You still have a crush on her?” Suguru questioned. It was his turn to pout. “Am I not enough?” 

“Baby you’re plenty, but you can’t replace a huge rack,” Satoru’s voice was steady as if he was talking about the most important thing in the whole world. 

“I can’t argue with that.” Suguru sighed defeatedly, his shoulders slumping down dramatically. 

“Ugh. I shouldn’t have asked that. Both of you are so weird and gross about women,” Shoko grimaced regretting her decisions and lifted the cigarette to her mouth as if to cover the bad taste of Satoru’s words. 

The man in sunglasses ignored the criticizing words. “Suguru. Truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

“I dare you to share this,” Satoru lifted up a huge strawberry. “Like in Lady and the Tramp with Shoko,” he referred to the scene where the two dogs shared a spaghetti meal, eventually kissing. 

“That’s too small!” Shoko protested immediately, shaking her head. The idea of doing that with Suguru made her feel iffy. 

“I’m game if she is,” Suguru said and offered his palm to Satoru who plopped the berry in his hands. 

Shoko had a nervous giggle come out of her. 

“C’mon, it’s just a game. You can always let go after like one bite. This is truth or dare afterall,” Satoru coaxed. 

“Fine. But I won’t kiss you, not even a peck.” Shoko established her own rule and rolled her eyes. She put out the cigarette on the grass and left the butt there. 

“We’ll see about that,” Suguru laughed and picked at the stem that got thrown over next to the chewed up gum. 

He awkwardly came closer to the young female student and placed the bigger end between his lips. He looked silly, the red end peeking out of his mouth. Suguru attempted at mouthing the words ‘come closer’, but neither Satoru or Shoko understood his words but the context clue carried the point to Shoko. 

She got on her knees sitting on top of her legs and straightened herself out. Suguru was way taller than her, even when he sat. Her face approached Suguru’s who had a pink tint on his cheeks from the alcohol he had drank.  

She opened her mouth and barely bit down on the smaller end, her tongue touching the bumpy texture of the strawberry. 

“Ready. Set. Go!” Satoru exclaimed, motioning finger guns happily. His gaze was completely glued on his two friends. 

Suguru closed his eyes and he started to carefully nibble, closing dangerously on Shoko’s lips. She bit quickly, not really tasting anything and began to pull away in hopes of Suguru calling it quits too. 

Unfortunately she wasn’t fast enough. The last bits of strawberry fell down on Shoko’s lap when Suguru pressed his lips against hers, a faint red trail dripping on her chin. She didn’t move and her eyes widened in shock. Shoko didn’t know what to do so she just held her hands on her lap. 

Suguru pet gently behind the girl’s head kissing her motionless lips. His hand trailed down to her neck and all the way to her shoulder. Shoko felt the sweet taste in her mouth mixing with the alcohol, stranger’s saliva and nicotine as Suguru dragged his hand to the mound of her breast. The warmth emanating from his palm was enough to bring her back to reality and Shoko pushed the bigger guy off of her. 

“Why did you do that?” she snapped and crossed her arms. 

“Oh don’t get angry now. Have a drink and chill out.” Satoru sighed. He shuffled awkwardly and placed the almost empty tote bag on his lap and grabbed a new beer can from there. Shoko narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but did not want to make room for any weird thoughts that would imply even weirder things. “It’s just a joke.” 

“This is not the first time you take jokes too far.”

Shoko looked away from the two boys, disappointment turning into an ache in her heart and wiped her chin clean from the strawberry. She slipped on the ballerinas laying on the ground. 

“Seriously? You’re leaving because of this?” Suguru tilted his head, his voice defensive.

Shoko threw her cigarettes and lighter in her own purse checking the blanket for other stuff she had. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m not having fun anymore.” Her voice was cold as she was attempting to hide the nervous tremble in her body and almost jumped up throwing the bag on her shoulder. She turned around, once again crossing her hands against her chest as if to protect herself and started walking.

“Hey! Don’t you want your blanket with you?” Satoru yelled after her. The two guys sat on the quilt completely bamboozled. 

“Keep it! I don’t need it!” 

She didn’t eat strawberries for the rest of the summer. 

***

“Hey you really should sing this one!” Shoko laughed as she scrolled through the song list.

“Whaat? No that’s not even funny,” you laughed and slapped her arm gently. 

“Is it really not? Or are you just a bore?” Shoko taunted getting ready to put the song on.

“Can we sing something from this?” You pointed at the category called 2000’s hits. 

“I’ll pick something at random and you’re just going to deal with it,” Shoko laughed clearly tipsy too after the multiple drinks you both had drank. 

The disco ball was spinning around the small room painting the walls in hues of blue, red and green. Nanami sat on the couch nursing his whiskey as he stared off into space. The upbeat music filled the room, bass shaking the ground underneath your feet.

It was the first time going out after the events at Gojo’s house. Shoko had basically begged you to come with her to get shit faced complaining that she really needed someone to rant with. You told her that Utahime was right there and would probably love to listen to her, but she claimed that the woman from Kyoto had other plans for the weekend.

After arriving at the karaoke bar you had been taken back after seeing the stoic blonde man at the venue. You weighed the option of immediately leaving in your head, but your conscience did not allow you to do so, after leaving him so rudely hanging in the meeting. When the three of you had gotten your own private room you decided to immediately order shots and drinks with the only goal of getting absolutely black out drunk tonight despite having Nanami there. 

It was honestly rare to see him after work as he had preferred to keep his distance. He was wearing the same clothing he always wore, dress shirt ironed, necktie perfectly hanging against his chest as if he was on the clock. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to whip out a cursed tool onto the bar table. 

You clutched onto the microphone singing unevenly as you danced to the beat, half of the syllables disappearing to you being out of breath. Shoko cackled, almost folding over as she kept slapping her thigh eyes watering. She had drunk a few drinks less than you and she had been exceptionally happy even before drinking. Truthfully Shoko was quite a heavy drinker and she definitely should not have been as wasted as what she appeared to be. 

Nanami stared at the both of you, raising the whiskey glass to his lips after checking his wrist watch. 

“Come here! Sing with us!” You yelled to the mic only getting a slightly alarmed expression out of him as he shook his head.

“I think I’m okay with watching you two perform,” he said. 

You pouted but kept on singing, your concentration skills nonexistent. You did not notice the way Shoko glared at him, nudging her head towards you as she pointed the microphone in her hand towards him. 

Nanami cleared his throat under the threatening gaze and clumsily got up. 

“Oh my god! Nanamiii!” You screamed the noise so high pitched that even the speakers were unable to handle it and you could see how Nanami cringed at the sound. 

Shoko squinted her eyes and mouthed the word sing to Nanami. Shoko was not going to deal with you alone. 

The combination of the pop song and Nanami’s voice made you giggle as you hurrayed him happily. He was not a bad singer by any means, but his voice did not fit the song choice. You wondered to yourself, why had you not gotten shitfaced earlier when you had all the good reasons to. 

Shoko decided to take a small break sitting on the spot where Nanami had been earlier and inspected the brown liquid swishing in the glass. She stole a sip from it when Nanami wasn’t watching, not really caring about the fact that it wasn’t her drink.

You grabbed your drink from the table and drank from it and you kept on singing happily, almost jumping around. Nanami looked at you with a terrified expression when you moved side to side with the drink spilling on your hand, but you did not notice the wetness of it. 

“Hey, put that down before you drop the glass,” Nanami said and gently tried to take the glass from you.

“No, I want to keep this,” a pout formed on your face but you still did what he told and turned around swiftly to place the drink on the counter. Your vision was blurry, the lights slightly too bright and you lost your balance tipping over the glass that was already safely on the table. You felt yourself starting to fall but a strong arm snaked around your waist to stabilize you. 

The world felt like it was stopping when the arm around you changed into a tight rope that pressed around your ribcage. The karaoke room changed inch by inch to a vast room with a wall made of windows with a night view of the streets of Tokyo. The shattered drink turned into a broken light bulb on the floor. You felt a hot breath on your skin, but your body had gotten cold. It was as if you had been dunked into ice water, all the earlier excitement completely vanished. The disco ball spun around casting blue lights on the white haired man’s face that ogled you like a piece of meat. The imagery was so vivid and real in your mind that you reacted on instinct, elbowing the man behind you. 

The rope vanished around you as the windows melted to the concrete floor, the shadows of city lights turned back to the tacky illumination of the disco ball. You felt the remnants of cursed energy fizzing out like a soda can as your eyes landed on Nanami, who was slightly hunched over holding onto his side the pain making him grimace. You had no idea how much force you had actually used, but probably quite a lot judging by the way Nanami was reacting. 

Shoko stood there completely still, eyes filled to the brim with worry and confusion. Her lips were ajar and she gulped down wanting to say something, but she did not know what. 

“My apologies. I didn't mean to touch you inappropriately,” Nanami managed to say. The music track played in the background, but it felt empty without a drunken voice guiding it. He was lucky to have good reflexes, instinctually protecting himself from the blow, otherwise Shoko would have had a patient off the clock. 

“Uh,” Your mouth gaped at him hopelessly. He had done nothing wrong. 

“I’ll go for a cigarette,” you blurted out and left the room hurriedly. The long hallway stretched in front of your eyes as you looked at the numbers on karaoke booths, only muted colors flashing through the slightly translucent doors. You leaned on the wall as you dragged your feet forward arriving at the front desk that thanked you for your time, but you did not pay attention to them and turned to your left to stare at the steep stairway.

The steps were made out of wood with a black paint that had started to chip away and the walls were pure red, too bright and intense for your eyes. You focused on the door in front of you and barely saw the red walls around it as they got covered by a dark cloud, your way of seeing more animalistic than human.The only thing in your mind was the need to get some fresh air as emotions threw you around like a shipwreck at the sea. 

You pushed the door open and walked over to a bicycle stand choosing an empty spot where you plopped yourself on. You rocked yourself back and forth as you cried and gripped onto your skin painfully hoping that at least the physical sensation would put an end to your suffering. You started to be more aware of the familiar banging against your skull. 

The door of the karaoke bar opened as Shoko walked outside, her face now serious, resembling more the woman she was at work than the friend giggling at drunk people's jokes. 

“Hey. You forgot this inside.” She handed you your bag.

You wanted to answer something but you could not as the words got stuck to your throat. Your world flashed back and forth between sensations that you weren’t supposed to feel in this moment. The guilt and sadness ate you alive, nipping away from your vitals the more you tried to push them down. 

Shoko placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it up and offered it to you. You took it gladly off her hands inhaling the sweet smoke, but you almost ended up suffocating on it as your nose was too stuffed to handle it. Even the menthol taste was unable to help you with this issue. Shoko opened the green box once more to get herself a smoke as well. 

She took a drag out of it and watched your shuddering figure. 

“I saw you in the hallway with Geto. Something happened at Gojo’s right?”

You lifted your head up mascara running on your cheeks. Had you not been in such a bad state her words would have shocked you. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t want my help.” Shoko crouched down to your level. You stared at her face as she left out a puff of smoke that trailed around her face, the dark eye bags now more visible than ever. 

You choked on your tears once more, now openly wailing on the pavement your fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. You dragged your nails across yourself leaving pink trails behind it, the soft tingle covering the areas you had just clawed at. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you cried, your words hard to decipher as your breath hitched. “I can’t keep on doing this. It’s all my fault. I’m so stupid,” you screamed snot falling onto your shirt. 

“So fucking stupid!” You impulsively pressed the cigarette butt against your thigh melting the cloth away the stinging pain shocking you as your skin shed its layers against the fire. 

You had no shame in your breakdown, frankly you did not even recognize the others that looked in your way speaking with hushed voices around you, as they tightened the grip on their partners hands. “That girl really needs to lay off the drinks,” someone had said loudly. Shoko had wanted to immediately pounce, but she held herself together. She knew that you needed her more. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, when you want to hurt someone else,” her voice was just a whisper. “Can I touch you?” She asked not wanting to trigger you further. You nodded. 

Shoko pulled you into a tight hug and you buried your face on her chest, holding onto her like it was the last thing keeping you afloat. You seeked comfort in her presence. 

“I want to die.” You gripped onto her tighter. “I’m so weak.”

Shoko stroked your hair, her own eyes watering as she listened to you wordlessly. She felt your pain almost just as viscerally as you were experiencing them now.  

“No matter… no matter what I do. I can’t escape them. I just want to be gone. I want to-”

Shoko shushed you and slipped her free hand into her pocket, digging out her phone. Almost ten minutes had gone by. She awkwardly opened her chat with Nanami trying to inform the man who was probably still sitting in their booth waiting for the two of you to come back. 

A male voice disturbed the two of you. “Is everything okay?” 

Shoko pressed her hand on your shoulder pushing herself up from the ground, she whispered to you to stay put, not that you really were in any condition to go anywhere. 

“Good that you’re here. I was just about to text you. Can you get us a taxi?”

“Of course,” he said and opened the app punching in your address that Shoko forwarded to him. He looked so much older and out of place in the busy street. 

This was the kind hearted and lovely Nanami that had forgiven you immediately, after you had punched him in the gut because you were fucked up in the head. The kind hearted and lovely Nanami that you couldn’t look in the eyes, because of a certain man whose name you felt like acid on the tip of your tongue. The thoughts in your head brought fresh tears to your eyes. You dangerously sailed in the deep waters of suicidal ideation, your tired hands opening the forbidden door.  

“It’s going to arrive in five minutes,” Nanami hummed. 

“I think you should go. I’ll handle this,” Shoko said, her voice full of pity. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Nanami nodded in agreement. 

“For what it’s worth, take care of yourself too.” Nanami’s words were carefully chosen, anticipating that you weren’t the only one who needed a hug. 

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, YEAR 2006

The beach was filled with people who enjoyed the way the sun spoiled them with its warmth. Shoko was sitting on a towel next to Mei Mei who applied generous amounts of sunscreen on her hand. They sat underneath a parasol that had been propped in the sand, covering them both from the direct sun. The brown haired girl watched as Utahime excitedly threw herself to the water. She had given up on trying to get Shoko and Mei Mei in the water as well. 

“Mei Mei, don’t you have a lot of experience with boys?” Shoko almost whispered and hugged her legs. Her beach shawl swayed when the breeze decided to start playing with the huge piece of cloth. 

“Are you trying to imply something?” Her voice was low and melodic but not at all accusatory. 

“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to ask you something.” Shoko shook her head flustered. “Is it normal for a guy to kiss a girl without asking?” 

Mei Mei burst into laughter. This was the question Shoko was getting all worked up for? 

“Shoko,” Mei Mei’s eyes glimmered softly when she said the younger girl’s name with gentleness that reminded her of a mother tugging a child into bed. “I did not take you for being this innocent,” she teased. 

“I’m not innocent,” the brown haired girl huffed with the unexpected blush decorating her cheeks.

“Did someone do that to you?” Mei Mei tilted her head curiously and offered the sunscreen bottle to Shoko who happily took it to her hands.

“If I tell you, will you promise that you won’t tell anyone?”

“If I’m honest, I don’t think I care enough to tattle. You got me curious now. Tell me,” she hummed as a smile curled on her lips. 

“Well uh.. Suguru kind of kissed me when we were playing truth or dare with Satoru,” Shoko explained . She ran her hand between the warm sand, the grainy texture giving her something else to think about. “It was a stupid dare on Satoru’s part. Dunno why I accepted it.” 

Shoko added that she did not want to kiss him under any circumstances but the boy had managed to go over her boundary with ease. 

“That’s it?” Mei Mei asked, raising her eyebrow. She was almost bewildered at how tame the story was. 

“Yeah.” 

The blue haired woman scoffed.

“Guys think that girls like it when they take control and in a certain sense they are right. Maybe they got their eyes on you? Although, I did think that Suguru and Satoru were..” Mei Mei’s voice trailed off as she thought. “It doesn’t matter.” She concluded. 

“If I were you. I’d go along with it.” Mei Mei suggested. 

“No way. I don’t like them like that. Besides that’s not what I asked for your opinion on.” 

“And?” Mei Mei turned her gaze on Shoko, her eyes hardening as she intensely stared at the younger girl. “Those two men are our generation’s strongest and you’re going to complain that one of them gave you a little kiss?” 

Mei Mei’s melodic voice dropped lower as she showed her true feelings of distaste towards Shoko’s views. 

“If I were you,” she started again, her voice tough and bitter. “I’d be securing my spot by their side and not planning to bring forth meaningless accusations over a game of truth or dare.” 

Shoko was at loss with the things that were being said to her. Now that she thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to speak with Mei Mei. 

“I did not say I was going to tell anyone,” her voice was squeaky like a little girl’s. 

“But you thought about that right?” Shoko did not deny nor confirm the accusation.

Mei Mei’s face softened. “Shoko, you’re a smart girl. You should know better than to get shaken by two boys, especially when you so eagerly lead them on.“ 

“..I don’t lead them on.”

“Then stop meeting them in your spare time. If you do that, guys will think that you’re willing. You’re not a kid anymore, they do notice that you’re a woman now.” 

She stayed quiet, Mei Mei’s words burning on her skin worse than the summer heat. She did not want guys thinking about her that way. She simply wanted to be their friend and the idea of boys and girls being unable to do that because of bodily differences made Shoko shudder. 

“You want to help your friends, right?” Mei Mei asked when Utahime got out of the water. 

Shoko nodded. 

“Then become a doctor. That’s the best you can do to others with the technique you have.” Her words were probably meant to be comforting, but they made Shoko’s heart sink to the bottom of the ocean. 

“Shookoo!” Utahime ran towards the two girls sitting on the beach towels. 

“Are you willing to swim now?” Sand and water droplets clung onto her radiant skin that the younger girl admired silently. Shoko felt her heart skip a few times in her chest when Utahime offered her hand to her. 

“Sure.” The shy smile stretched on Shoko’s lips. 

“I’ll stay here. But you guys have fun.” Mei Mei announced as she opened the book next to her the pages slightly crumpled up. 

Shoko did not really register Mei Mei’s voice anymore. She grabbed Utahime’s hand and the world slowly faded away around them. 

****

Shoko went through the bathroom nimbly avoiding piles of clothing or takeout bags as she looked through your bathroom cupboard. She found a bag of half used cotton pads and a micelar water from the mess.

The taxi drive had felt like eternity. Your tears had dried before settling in the car and numbness had taken over. Shoko helped you to your bed and said that she’d come back soon, closing the door behind her giving you some space to change into something more comfortable. 

The door opened. Shoko looked at you and sat on the bed. You were using a pillow as a support for your back. The night lamp’s warm color casted shadows around your puffy face. The woman shook the bottle in her hand and poured liquid on the white cotton pad and tilted your face towards hers. 

She pressed the pad on your eyelid carefully letting the mixture soak through the heaps of makeup on your face. You sniffled sadly before speaking. 

“I can do this on my own too.” 

“I want to do this,” her voice was soft as she spoke the makeup remover leaving your skin slightly cold. You simply nodded and admired the way her hair framed her face. 

“You know I’ve had my own bad experiences too,” Shoko said, her face turning to a slight frown. Her mind was sailing in memories that she had given up on trying to understand. 

You were at a loss of words. You wanted to pry, but it felt invasive. 

“With them? Really?” You heard yourself asking as you danced on the line of impropriety.

“Yeah,” Shoko hummed, “but we shouldn’t have this conversation yet. Maybe in the morning, but not now,” she tried to make her voice sound brighter, feel brighter as if it would fix everything. 

“Okay,” you said. Maybe she’s right about this. Shoko discarded the dirty cotton pad, simply placing it on the bedside table. It was at its limits the whole thing turned into the color of your foundation with the small black streaks of your mascara on it, or what was left from it. 

She held onto your face gently for a moment too long even after she was done. You opened your eyes to really look at her. She looked so sad and.. young? Yes young was the right word. She looked like a woman robbed out of something sacred. She had been so happy, so easy to excite in her youth, but now all she seemed to carry was baggage. 

Your drunken mind wanted to close the distance, but something held you back. Maybe it was all the answers that were still being withheld by her, maybe it was the understanding that it’s not the right time yet. 

“Can you stay the night?” you whispered. Shoko breathed in and opened her mouth to say something, but you were faster. “Please? Th-there’s some clothes you can borrow in my closet.” 

She stayed quiet and you waited patiently.

“I’ll stay.” 

You smiled weakly at her and muttered a gentle thank you. She shuffled up from the bed and walked over the closet you had pointed for her. You turned your back to her when you heard the rustling of clothing that she ended up piling up neatly on one of the spare chairs in your bedroom. 

You fluffed up the pillow next to you and lifted up the blanket when she climbed in. You turned your back to her as you lay down on your side. Your hand searched the light switch and then the room was pitch black. 

Shoko awkwardly came closer to you till your back was against hers and she played with your hair idly in the silence. The touch was friendly, your body slumping in relaxation almost immediately. It was nice to have someone there. You had gotten so used to being afraid of the nights. 

“Good night,” she said, her voice hoarse. 

“Night.” 

***

You woke up alone with no trace of the woman in your room. She had gotten up earlier than you and dressed up back to the clothes she had in the bar. You hugged your plush blanket, almost burying your whole face underneath it, not ready to face the day.

Your head hurt and you felt nauseous. How is Shoko even able to do things? You wondered to yourself.

The faint knock on the bedroom door disrupted your thoughts as the door opened slightly. 

“I made a sandwich for you and found some painkillers, if you want any,” she said and you heard her steps further away again. 

You groaned and threw the blanket away from your body, the cold greeting you roughly. 

Your kitchen had gotten miraculously cleaner, the multiple empty beer cans piled in a bag and the dishwasher hummed quietly. You stared at the brown table in front of you that had two sandwiches and glasses of water on it, hunger long gone from your body. 

“You really should drink less.” Shoko picked up another empty can from the counter just to place it in the bag.

“Like you’re the one to talk.” You sat on the chair with its legs squeaking against the floor with your rough treatment. 

You grabbed the pill bottle and rattled out two tablets that you threw in your mouth and drank barely enough water to chase them down. 

“What do you remember?” Shoko asked and sat in front of you. She wasn’t feeling very hungry either. 

“I remember punching Nanami and the talk we had before we fell asleep,” you mumbled, playing with the edges of the slightly crusty lettuce between your sandwich. You had meant to use it on a salad a few days ago, but you were too tired to cook for yourself. Even the simple things were hard. “What did I tell you?”

“Nothing. You were just crying.”

Oh. So it was like that. 

“They assaulted me.” Your face was stern, emotions hidden behind a wall. The words felt weird. It was the first time you had actually said it out loud.

Shoko’s face widened from shock. 

“They what?” 

“Don’t make me repeat it,” you hissed. 

“Sorry, I won’t.” 

The silence felt unbearable and you stuffed your face full of bread just to do something. 

“They did something similar when we were still in school.” Shoko ripped the hangnail painfully from her skin and pressed on the miniscule wound with one of her fingers. 

You chewed the sandwich aggressively without tasting anything, the texture turning to mush in your mouth. 

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Your words were way more accusatory than what you wanted. 

Shoko turned her head to the side looking hurt by your sudden outburst. Her eyebrows scrunched together in pain as she looked for the perfect words, but there were none. 

“You admired them. I didn’t want to take that away from you, and when I realized that I probably should have said..”

“Bullshit, Shoko. It’s been ten years. I deserved to know, you could have-”

“Stop blaming me for their shit!” she yelled. Shoko never yells. 

You fell quiet. You reined in your anger, its hands still attempting to reach out to anything it could latch on. She was right. It’s not her burden to bear, but you still couldn’t help but feel powerless, when there could have theoretically been someone who could have told you to not go there. 

“Sorry,” you simply said just to drop the topic. Shoko sighed defeatedly and pushed her head briefly against her hands. She understood the anger, she really did. 

“They drugged me and then raped me together. I don’t remember a lot from it. I fought back – well attempted to,” your voice shook as you spoke. 

The brown haired woman simply looked at you with silent empathy. 

“Did you at least get one good punch in?” 

Your lips curled into a downhearted smile. The memory of your feeble fight playing in your mind, the weakness and despair of it all, a futile attempt of a prey to preserve their life just one moment longer. 

“Not a single one,” you laughed hollowly as one tear rolled on your cheek and your lips trembled. “But I did rip some hair out of Geto at the school,” you tried to brighten your voice and be brave. 

Shoko’s eyes watered and she answered your smile with her own. 

“Good.” 

The almost happy expression faded from your face. Everything hurt, never had you ever thought to be in a situation like this where you were exchanging devastation with your friend like gifts on christmas. 

“Why did you stay? Even Nanami left for a while, you could have done the same.” Your question was gentler this time. 

Shoko pondered for a minute, not sure of her answer either. 

“Because this is the only way I could help. I had you and Utahime and I didn’t want to leave you two behind. Besides what else was I supposed to do? I’ve been given a technique that can save many if I choose right. Had I left a lot more could have died because I wasn’t here — all because of what two men did,” she tried to put her thoughts together. 

“There’s a reason why Utahime doesn’t like Gojo,” Shoko blurted out and played with her hair. 

You took a careful sip of water as if you were trying to carefully dissect the different flavors of Shoko’s words. 

“What do you mean? Did they do something to her as well?” 

“No. I just mean that women know, you know? I think it’s in our blood to recognize danger. That’s one of the reasons she despises him. But this is just my thought, not an universal truth,” Shoko wondered out loud. 

She breathed in once again as if the words she was about to speak were too painful. 

“I think sometimes us women have to carry the atrocities of men. There’s no rhyme or reason why they do certain things. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself. I never went through what you did, but I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she mused. “I’m sorry though. What you went through. It’s not right.”

Her brown eyes stared at you expectantly. You chewed on your lip nervously and tapped the empty plate with your nail, the small tinkle sound working as a metronome. 

“No, it’s not,” you huffed. But it feels like it’s my fault. If I had not gone there, if I had not idolized them – loved them even. This wouldn’t have ended this way. It was easier to leave those words in your head. 

“So what now?” You looked at Shoko, your eyes pleading, asking for answers, guidance, anything she would be able to provide to you. You knew there was nothing clear cut Shoko could say, but god how you wished that someone would know what to do. 

Shoko shook her head in defeat as if telling you that she wasn’t able to point you on the right track like that. 

“Whatever you want. You can stay or go, but you don’t have to carry it alone,” Shoko said, her face gentle. You could still draw out the remnants of the young girl from the year two thousand and six on her features. The lines were almost faded but they were still there. 

You found kinship in her even if neither of you had shared the full story of what had happened. You weren’t there yet and you weren’t ready. Instead the two of you skirted around words unspoken finding solace of at least having someone who could understand. It was up to the both of you what to make out of the confessions of the past. 

[themoonweaversden]

Messeges that were found so far: STAN / STANLEY PINES / STAN PINES / STANLEY (spoilers)

This is just to collect all the codes that you can type in in thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and their effects only (please click images for better quality)

Masterpost with all messeges / codes

You have to keep spamming it to get all of these links

Eventually you'll get this:

Transcript:

"WHEEL! OF! SHAME!

STEP RIGHT UP! It's time to play my FAVORITE GAME!! BOOTLEG SIXER over HERE spent a LIFETIME trying to hide his humiliations, BUT I'VE BEEN INSIDE HIS MIND, so NOW they're ALL YOURS for the low price of BEING MY NEW PAL! IT'S SHOWTIME FOLKS, AND THE ONLY WAY TO LOSE IS TO BE NAMED STANLEY PINES! CLICK BELOW TO SEE WHAT THIS MOUTH BREATHING CARNIVAL BAKER HAS BEEN KEEPING TO THE VEST ALL THESE YEARS. BROUGHT TO YOU BY: SHAME!

"SHAME:™ IT'S THE ONE FRIEND WHO NEVER LEAVES!"

EX-WIVES!

FEARS

SECRET SHAMES

UNREPORTED CRIMES

FAILED PRODUCTS

LOWEST MOMENTS

DARKEST THOUGHT

HOW HE BEAT ME"

If you click EX-WIVES

Transcript:

"EX-WIVES

Old Goldie Vegas wedding to a cursed gold-toothed antique.

Marilyn Fakenamé Vegas wedding to a cursed gold-toothed antique.

Brenda Chuggins Shack attraction for having "World's Biggest Thumb." (Carny Tip: Never date your own freaks. She used that thumb to hitch-hike off with Johnny Snakes 3 days later)

Sandra Sweetmeadow A kind beautiful Amish girl eho made Stan choose between her and his "sinful gold chains." He chose the chains.

Someone named "Burline" Stan has no idea who she is, but he found her wedding ring in the Shack Lost & Found, put it on, and it got stuck forever. Physically binding. Might be legally binding!

His childhood poster of "Attack of the 50 Foot Woman" (8 year old Stanley drew a ring on the poster and made Sixer witness.)

Natalia Annika Ömanövv Totally un-suspicious turist from a country that no longer legally exists. She took Stanley's creedit card and social security number while he was sleeping and still "checks in on him" via hidden cameras. Ah, love!"

If you click FEARS

Transcript:

"FEARS

The IRS Finding Out

Soos being the one to find Stan dead and taxidermying his body. (Soos would consider this an honor)

The cops calling Stan's fingertips "unusually little."

Betting Dipper in a poker game (and losing.)

Word getting out about Stan's little fingertips, people discovering that they're littler than Ford's.

Stan being dubbed "Baby-Fingers Pines" by the media and having to look into black market finger enlarging."

If you click SECRET SHAMES

Transcript:

"SECRET SHAMES

The time Wendy beat Stan in arm wrestling. 3 times in a row. She never has to work overtime as long as she never tells a soul.

The fact that no one came to his fake funeral except his mom and an IRS agent who whispered to the coffin "this isn't over."

The quick cash Stan made in 1975 posing for a "Hunky Drifters Catalogue" that wasn't as tasteful and classy as the job listing made it sound.

Was the baby mascot for the "Fussy Boy" Brand diaper rash commercials. (Claims that was Ford.)

Writing His Duchess Approves erotic fan-novel: "The Duke's Temptations at Oglebottom Estate.""

If you click UNREPORTED CRIMES

Transcript:

"UNREPORTED CRIMES

The time Stan hit Toby Determined with his car and just... kept driving.

Illegally breeding wolves to create a "super wolf." You should hear this thing howl.

Pretending to be a veteran to get a discount on PEZ, then having to invent an entire fake war in a fake country to keep the ruse going. Stan still has a "Remember Operation Enduring Excuse" bumper sticker, and regularly updates the Wikipedia page for the "People's Grepublic of Grunklestan."

Shooting out the tires of the Mythbusters Van after they axposing him for "looking kinda doughy" on tape.

Selling his heart medication to Children claiming it was "metal-flavored candy!"

Accidentally inhaling too much taxidermy glue, black out, and waking up to discover that he had somehow managed to rob himself. Still tracking down the lost boot buried by his arch-rival "Glue Stan""

If you click FAILED PRODUCTS

Transcript:

"STAN'S FAILED PRODUCTS

The "Wishy Washy!" - A washing machine that somehow makes your clothes dirtier.

The "Counter Fit!" - A rubber band you attach to your kitchen counter to exercise while doing dished. INJURY TOLL: 27

"Welcome to Gravity Town!" - A cartoon show pitch which was unanimously rejected by every network for "blatant Illuminati references."

"Flavored Lottery Tickets!" - Turns out that the kind of people who think they can win the lottery are the kind of people who ignore "do not swallow" instructions. LAWSUIT TOLL: 48

"THE SAD SHACK" - A burlap bag to cover your head so no one can see you rendomly crying during the day. Cheaper than therapy!

A soda called the "Drippy Stanley!" INGREDIENTS: Pine Sol, wood glue, & expired sun tan lotion. Soos tested it and now he can't remember the year 2000."

If you click LOWEST MOMENTS

Transcript:

"LOWEST MOMENTS

That time he somehow got an F- on a history test, which teachers thought was mathematically impossible. Filbrick made him stand on the lawn for two days holding a sign that said "Estra Stan, 3 dollars or better offer."

When "1998's Best Tourist Traps in Oregon" listed the "Mystery Shack" as #99 below "The world's bigest fence" and "the dog that might be thinking human thoughts."

His birthday the year before he met Dipper & Mabel. No one came to "Mr Mystery's Mystery-Age Party & Used Wolf Pet Sale" He'd spent hours writing comedy roasts of employees who never came, burned off one of his eyebrows attempting to make a cake, and drank the night away skeet shooting Sixer's old Beethoven Records.

The day after he met the twins, he overheard them debating whether they should escape out the window and report him to the FBI. Mabel shook a Magic 8-Ball and tey stayed.

Stripping for edible flour in Tijuana Please don't make me elaborate."

If you click DARKEST THOUGHT

Transcript:

"DARKEST THOUGHT

Pin all my crimes on Soos"

If you click HOW HE BEAT ME (You have to keep spamming)

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME He didn't! IM STILL HERE, SUCKER!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME LOOK the gambler got a lucky break, alright? A lifelong LOSER was due for ONE freak royal flush! What does it mean? NOTHING! LESS THAN NOTHING! NOT WORTH EVEN THINKING ABOUT!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? That a guy who once tried to EAT THE DECORATIVE POTPURRI out of the bowl in the bank OUTSMARTED ME?! PLEASE! Goofus was just following Gallant's LEAD! It was SIXER'S PLAN, PTSD BARNUM is just a side character, a resume-inflating, cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of DENIAL AND shamelessness! Sixer ate Stanley's potential in the womb, and the only thing interesting that ever happened to him started when I entered HIS head! END OF STORY! PERIOD. And I have NOTHING MORE TO SAY ABOUT IT!!!!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME ..."

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME AND ANOTHER THING! Ever since that pathetic excuse for a 5-sensed three Dimensional one lifespanned skin-puppet was barfed into the universe, he was nothing but a carbon copy of a better genetic duplicate, and he knew it! A trillion years from now when I've broken out of this place nd taken over, he'll be remembered as the special bump under the cement truck of my inevitable triumph asterisk next to an asterisk next to an asterisk next to an asterisk who would be a joke if he was capable of understanding comedy whehich he OBVIOUSLY isn't, I mean, have you heard the hacky matreials he does on his tours, I've been inside his dreams, he WORKSHOPS that material, he PAVES over it, and the best he can do are some puns that would make a third grader cringe and vaudeville that were hack before they were even invented! Its an insult that showed to wear a suit and tie, he should be in a BARREL with SUSPENDERS!

HACK JOKES. CODEPENDENT. SELF-PITYING STUPID "FULLY CLOTHED WOMEN" COULDNT WIN LOCAL ELECTION SMUG SAS-CROTCH TACKY UNWORTHY CLICHE DREAMS "SINGIN' SALMON" AND THAT'S THE FINAL WORD!"

Transcript for this image in specific taken from this Google doc

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME OKAY I SEE WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE! You’re just like those those PREACHY INFANTILZING AUTOMOTONS AT THETHERAPRISM who are SO OBSESSED with getting me to TALK about my “FEELINGS”. YOU THINK YOU CAN GET A RISE OUT OF ME?! TRY! I DARE YOU! I DARE YOU!”

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME KEEP CLICKING! SEE WHAT HAPPENS! I CAN OUT-LAST YOU PAL! DO YOU REALIZE WHO YOU’RE STEPPING TO HERE?! IM LITERALLY INSANE! TRY IT! KEEP TRYING IT! I’VE GOT FOREVER, LET’S GO! COME ON! GO! KEEP CLICKING! KEEP DOING IT!”

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME KEEP DOING IT!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME I LOVE IT!"

Transcript:

"HOW STAN BEAT ME IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!

⚠︎ FLASH WARNING FOR THE FILES BELLOW ⚠︎

Transcript:

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!"

Transcript:

"DO Y Ou even fAThoM ho W muCH pAIN IM"

Transcript:

"sOMeTIMES when i CLOSE my eyE i caN"

Transcript:

"I cAN STiLL sEe (encoded in alchemic sipher, author's cipher, theraprism and color cipher (in that order))"

Decoded messege: "The eyes of everyone I've ever"

(last three images)

[littlexscarletxwitch]

hii! can i request a florence pugh x reader where the reader and flo are out at a club but have not met before, and then someone tires to make a move on flo that she doesn’t want so the reader protects her? if not that’s okay! :)

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): kinda fluffy, flirty flo and r, protective (more like possessive lol) r, i hate men :)

warning(s): some dude harassing flo, mentions of alcohol, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.2 k

note: So sorry it took me so long to get back to you, nonnie. I really hope you like it, tho I'm not sure if I did you idea justice lol. On the other hand, I fished all of my exams so that means more time to write. Therefore I might update twice a week, or as I keep on finishing up fics. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

The loud music, the low colourful lights and the cold drink in your hands felt like heaven but nothing could compare to those lovely soft green eyes. 

You had been watching her the entire night, unable to take your eyes off of her. The way she would laugh with her friends scrunching her nose, the way she would swing her hips, the way she would gulped down her drink made you all flustered and bothered. Maybe it was just the alcohol but she was really beautiful to look at, so you didn’t mind at all. 

Florence knew you were watching, she could feel your eyes burning holes all over her body. But the thing was that she loved it. She took glances at you as well, when she felt like you were not looking at her. And she was really pleased by the sight: bright smile, kind eyes and lips she would love to taste. 

But neither of you dare to make a move, god only knew why the two of you were being so silly. And so the night went on, the two of you stealing glances at each other, Florence from the middle of the crowd and you from your stool at the bar. It was really stupid, but it also felt like a game, a secret code only the two of you knew about. 

As she took her glass to her lips, her eyes searched for your frame. But as she gulped down the last of her drink, she realised you were nowhere in sight. She frowned, was it over? Did she miss her chance? She should have acted sooner, now all she had was a bitter taste in her mouth and the need to wash it away with some more alcohol.

“I’m going to get a drink,” she said to Ashley, her friend, showing her the empty glass with a fake pout on her lips. 

“Get me something too,” the girl yelled to her friend over the loud music, to which Florence only nodded with a thumb up. 

She made her way to the bar, gently pushing people out of their way and smiling at some of them as she watched them dancing and enjoying themselves. She called a bartender and asked her for an ice-cold martini and a beer for Ashley. As the girl prepared her drink and five more at the same time, Florence felt an unknown presence next to her. The thought of you quickly crossed her mind, so she turned but her smile flattered as she didn’t meet your kind sweet eyes, but a pair of cold blue eyes. 

She pushed down the uneasy feeling growing in her stomach and put on her best fake smile. Sure, it wasn’t who she was expecting but it wasn’t the strangers fault. He didn’t deserve to be treated badly, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Hey,” said the man nodding to her. She cursed herself for getting his attention, he mistook her politeness for flirting.

“Hi,” she went along nevertheless, not wanting to come out as rude. 

And that word was all it took for the man in front of her to start talking nonstop. 

The bartender had already given her the drinks she had asked for and he still kept on talking. Florence had already drunk her martini and he was still talking. She ordered a second martini, the beer going hot beside her as he told her about his amazing job. She couldn’t take it anymore, but she didn’t want to cause a scene. 

You, who had come back from the restroom, had found yourself sitting next to said man. You had heard the same boring talk as Florence, but you didn’t realise it was her until you quickly looked at her. She seemed unease and bored, she was biting her bottom lip and nodding along to whatever he was saying. But her eyes weren’t as shiny as they were before, when she was dancing with her friend, having the time of her life, and smiling at you from time to time. 

“Hey, why don’t we go somewhere more private?” the man said, reaching out for Florence’s hand. She slightly backed up. 

“No, I think I’m good here,” she said as she gently shook her head. 

“Oh, come on,” he insisted. “Let’s have some fun.”

“Thank you, but I’m just fine exactly where I am,” she said harshly, with a tight smile on her lips. She was done being polite. 

“Don’t be a buzzkill. Come on, I promise you’ll have a lovely time,” Florence cringed at his words. 

“I think I should go,” you noticed the worry with a tint of anger in her tone, and you didn’t like that one bit. Especially when the guy just wouldn't take the hint. 

You gulped down the rest of your drink, hoping the alcohol now running through your veins would give you more courage, and hopefully it would help you not think things through or else you feared you would back down. 

You quietly stood up without him noticing, turned to him clearing your throat and spoke up through the loud music. “Oh, there you are, honey!” you plastered your best smile on your face. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you hugged her, whispering in her ear to play along. 

“Hi, baby. I missed you” she quickly said as she wrapped her arms around you. 

Both of your heartbeats were beating a mile per hour, this was not how either of you would imagine to talk to the other. As Florence placed her head in the crook of your neck, your sweet fresh scent filled her nose, erupting butterflies in her stomach. 

“Baby?” the guy scoffed. “Excuse me. Who are you?” he raised his brows at you. 

“I’m Y/n, her girlfriend ,” you raised your brows back at him, playing the part. “Who the fuck are you?” you said with a fake smile on your lips as you wrapped your arm around Florence's waist. 

“What?” he scoffed again. “This is bullshit,” he shook his head as he walked away from the two of you. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes at him. “Men. Am I right?”

“Tell me about it,” Florence smiled at you. 

“Oh, sorry,” you said as you realised your arm was still looped around her. 

“No worries,” you had just dropped your arm and she was already missing the warmth of your skin. She cleared her throat, pushing away her thoughts. “Thank you for getting me out of that.”

“You’re very welcome,” you couldn't stop the blood rushing to your cheeks as your eyes were fixed on hers. “I, um, I actually wanted to talk to you earlier…”

“You did?” her eyes seemed to light up, but maybe it was just the flashy lights. 

“Yeah! But I… I just thought… I…” you were babbling, a sign of how nervous you were. 

“I wanted to talk to you too,” she quickly chimed in. 

You couldn’t hold back your smile no matter how hard you were trying. “I know you just got out of a messy situation,” she chuckled, and you could have sworn that you felt your heart flutter. “But, um, can I buy you a drink?” you shyly asked her. 

“I would love that,” she responded, mirroring your smile. 

Florence was so mesmerised by you that she hadn't realised that she had completely forgotten about Ashley’s beer. But, oh well, she was sure her friend would understand. After all, a pretty girl saving your ass from a creepy dude wasn’t an everyday thing, and she wasn’t just going to let you go that easily.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[hypnodrea]

songs/artists i’d force TWST Housewardens to listen to

— Riddle Rosehearts aka Rizzle Smoulderheart

Mans would probably be like, making me study or some shit, hopefully helping me or just around me in general. And I just whip out the nasty ass phone Daddy Crowley gave me and boot up whatever version of Spotify there and bat my eyes at Riddle saying, “Oh, music helps me focus more when studying!” When we all know that is a full on lie.

So he would be around or something and I would just start blasting the most inappropriate music ever. Probably something like Man Areas or Squidwards Nose. One of those, y’know? Just cause I think it’d be funny seeing him get all red and angry, like a raspberry.

He’d prolly yell “Off with your head” at me but that would be useless because I’m magic-less

— Leona Kingscholar aka Mr. Worldwide

Me, personally, me, personally, I’d be rockin’ to take a nap with this homie. He’d prolly hate it, but I would! And y’see, I’d come up with some bullshit that like, music helps with dreams or some shit, just anything to convince him to let me play a playlist as he sleeps.

And it’d be full of Tyler the Creator. But specifically the genre of his songs like, See You Again, What a Day, Earfquake, BEST INTEREST, songs of his like those. Now I think Leona would probably like Tyler, idk, they both have them vibes and them two my favorite men.

But yeah, I’d make him listen to Tyler, he seems like he would like at least one or two songs of his, and I sure as hell know that I would be down on my knees just to hear him sing a song.

— Azul Ashengrotto aka ‘Baka Tako’

I would literally sell my soul to him just to make him listen to every single FNAF song. It has to be FNAF. I want to get at least two or three stuck in his head, so he feels cringe and ashamed to admit liking the songs.

It would be so worth it though, seeing Azul all dripped up for Board Game Club (azul + idia club card when—) and just him humming like, Join Us For A Bite, and Idia slow head turning to him as he experiences flashbacks.

I’d be soulless for the rest of my life just to hear Azul singing Five Nights At Freddys, but god, wouldn’t that be a sight to see.

— Kalim Al-Asim aka the most nicest boy ever

I could not do anything mean to this boy, I would introduce him to like, Kali Uchis or Laufey. This man deserves all the pretty women music. I’d also just give him genuine song recommendations for like, parties too.

Maybe some like, Odetari type of music for like movin’ & groovin’. Definitely some Pitbull, Daddy Yankee, y’know all the good body mover ones. Songs that just make ya wanna swing your hips and drop it down white boy style.

Kalim is such a precious boy I would make it my life’s goal to give him all the classic bangers and new shit. Also Peso Pluma. No words. Just Peso.

— Vil Schoenheit aka the IT Girl

He scares me. I don’t want him calling my music taste ugly 😭 I’d get like, Rook to get him to listen to any of my recommendations. Or literally any one else but me. I’m sensitive :(

Anyways onto the songs/artists, ahhhh, probably K-pop. I like a lot of songs but I also heard that the dances are pretty sick too. So he can like, have fun with that. Maybe specifically like, Red Velvet, or like the BTS members but only their solo songs because I like them better like that.

Also giving him like, serious recommendations because I don’t want him to curse me if I made him listen to like a fucking Lorax song.

— Idia Shroud aka the loser gamer boy

I’m making him listen to every single Tom Cardy song I know. If there is any one in the goddamn school that could appreciate him, it would be Idia. And I wouldn’t go for the obvious choice of making him listen to Hatsune Miku because he has his little Fates idol group thing, and also because it would be too predictable.

Tom Cardy on the other hand, he is extremely unpredictable and I love him for that. Specifically showing Idia all the more funny and mainstream songs of Tom Cardy like Red Flags, Mixed Messages, and Perception Check.

Making him hum Perception Check as he beats the hell out of Azul on online Uno as Azul screeches and everytime he gets a +2 or +4 making him say ‘Nat 20 let’s fucking go’

— Malleus Draconia aka …who?

I think my more modern music taste would kill him, so I’d just give him the entire Nutcracker ballet to listen to because it is such a banger ballet, dude.

Or just ballets in general, I think he’d enjoy them in the background as he does whatever he does in his little Gargoyle club thingy.

Me and him when that beat drops in the Knights Dance from the Romeo and Juliet ballet.

{This is not at all supposed to be close to canon, this is just for funsies. I’ll prolly do the first years next…}

[thechaoticdruid]

[The Monster Hunter]

Plot: Another draft from my abandoned long fic. It takes place right before [The Bite Scene]. Basically, it's the encounter between Astarion and Gandrel rewritten to feature my Tav, Winnie. Just thought I'd share it.

C/w: Death, dead animal, Astarion being a bigot, Astarion being a manipulative little shit, dialogue straight outta the game. A wee bit of blood.

Truth be told it was hard to remember how any of this happened. One moment Winnie was on the streets of Baldur's Gate searching for her friend Arva after she and the other members of their gang had gone missing and the next  the human was kidnapped by tentacle faced freaks, and infected with a brain worm before crashing from the sky in an alien spaceship. It's been a complete and utter nightmare and the only saving grace would be the fact that She'd been able to make some allies in the process.  

"Dead pig. Yep that pig is dead." Winnie called out, her fuchsia colored eyes scanning over an oddly well intact corpse of a boar.  "Weird….I don't see any wounds." Cautiously she poked it with her foot.

"Well, do you expect it to come back to life if you poke it enough?" Winnie’s elven companion Astarion, rolled his eyes, "just leave it. You're wasting our time prodding at a carcass." 

The human female sighed, but just as she was about to walk off two small puncture wounds in the boar's neck caught her attention. The first rational assumption that came to mind was that perhaps a snake had bitten into the pig and poisoned it. But surely there would have been a trace of blood left by bite, wouldn't there? 

"Darling, let's go. The brain worms aren't going to wait patiently for you to gawk at every corpse we pass." The elf huffed. 

Deciding it was probably just best to move on, Winnie nodded and followed. Whatever happened to this pig was probably not important for them to worry about, surely. Continuing on, Winnie and her companions wandered off into a nearby forest as they searched for the creche that their gith friend Lae'zel kept insisting they find.  

Winnie trudges through the mud, blowing brown curls out of her eyes before suddenly feeling a sharp sting in the side of her face. 

"Ah! Godsdamn mosquitoes!" She cursed, slapping her cheek before swatting around, frantically. "Why the hells do they keep biting me!?" 

"Looks like they have a taste for you, Winnie." Shadowheart teased. 

"Why me? There are plenty of other people here to bite!"

"And here I thought druids were friends of nature." Gale chimed in.

"I'm friends with nature….Until it starts biting me in the ass." Winnie muttered. 

"You must be quite the delicacy, given the swarm you're attracting…" Astarion smirked slightly, his eyes lingered upon the druid longer than he normally did. Winnie assumed he was enjoying her suffering. (The sadistic little shit.) Though she completely missed the hungry look in his eyes and just groaned in response, unable to resist scratching the irritated skin. Before anything else could be said there was a shouting off in the distance. 

"Tell us where she is!" The voice of a man was heard.

"I told you both already I haven't laid eyes on your sister!" Winnie’s eyes blinked as she'd heard a familiar voice. It was an old woman they'd met in the Druid's Grove. She'd told Astarion and Winnie that she might be able to help with their tadpole problem.  Winnie wasn't exactly sure if the old gal would actually be able to help them or if she was just demented like Astarion said. They hadn't promised anything when she invited the adventurers to visit her home, but Winnie did say they might stop by if given the chance.  However, now things may be a little difficult.

The old woman appeared to be cornered down the hill. Two men had a pitchfork and torch and appeared to be harassing her. As quickly as she could the druid intercepted the scene.

"What's going on here?" Winnie asked in a stern tone, preparing to grab her staff if need be.  

"Thank goodness you came sweetie! I have no idea what's come over these boys!" 

"Shut it hag! We know you were the last to see Mayrina! Now where is she!?" One of the men growled. 

"I already told ya, I haven't laid eyes on your poor sister. I will gladly help you look for her though." Ethel insisted.  

"Enough! Tell us where she is right now!" The older of the two brothers raised his weapon up.

"Okay let's not do anything we'll regret. Leave the lady alone." Winnie stepped in, shooting a glare at the two men. She put her hand on her staff, gripping it tight.

“Sweetie be careful!” Auntie Ethel shouted.

“She's with the hag! Get her!” Without another word the two men attacked. Winnie quickly used her staff to block an incoming pitchfork, knocking it out of the way and then quickly smacking both of the brothers in the head. The two dropped to the ground, unconscious.

“Oh dear, I never meant for this to happen.” Ethel exclaimed looking over at the brothers.

“Can you please explain what is going on?”Winnie asked, eyes scanning the woman up and down. Something was off about her.  Despite her seeming to show guilt and concern for the two men there was something in her tone that sounded off, insincere. 

“It's their sister Mayrina, she's staying with me and she made me promise not to breathe a word about it to anyone. Oh, I do hope the poor boys will be alright…” Auntie Ethel said.

“I'm sure they'll be fine…Well….They probably won't die.” Winnie said with a nervous little cough as she looked at the two boys. Gods, she hoped she didn't accidentally kill them. Sure, they had acted like idiots, but it was clear that it was out of concern for their sister. 

“Well, I can't dally around any longer, I best be going, but please stop by my house. I'd like to thank you proper.” Ethel had an all too sickeningly sweet smile before suddenly vanishing into a puff of smoke.  A look of shock covered the young druid’s face as she began to think that perhaps Ethel wasn't the sweet innocent old woman she had claimed to be.

“Shit…” She cursed.

“I haven't spent much time around helpless old ladies, but was that normal?” Astarion asked, stepping beside Winnie.

“Ah….Well…My grandmother was able to turn into an owlbear at will…but I feel like this may be something else entirely.” Winnie replied, scratching the back of her head.

“Hag was the word the brothers used to describe her. If they're right, then we may have a very dangerous foe on our hands.” Gale added.

“Usually l’d say we shouldn't jump to conclusions, but this was very suspicious.” Winnie said before looking off towards the wetlands below the hill.

She began to walk down, the others slowly following, Her leather boots sank into the mud as she surveyed the area, spying a few sheep roaming around nearby.  It looked pleasant enough, but something just wasn't right. There was this gut feeling that it was some kind of illusion at work. After a moment Winnie attempted to use some magic to dispel it. 

Within seconds the beautiful wetlands turned into a disgusting and dreary looking bog. 

“Oh…Well this is just wonderful…”Astarion murmured. Winnie huffed as the group walked off through the bog, ankle deep in mud and gods know what else. Gale kept his robes hiked up and Astarion seemed to be muttering something about his boots. Shadowheart rolled her eyes at the two of them. Venturing further on Winnie  began to notice the sheep from before had vanished and were now replaced by angry looking redcaps. Many of them apparently making…..sheep noises.

“Baaa!” One said as they noticed Winnie starring.

“Uh…..Baaa?” She mimicked it, eliciting a chuckle from both Astarion and Shadowheart. The redcap glared at Winnie before waddling away.

The adventurers kept wandering through the bog, searching around for any sign of Ethel before eventually stumbling upon a disgustingly sweet smell and a man standing up ahead. He had long brown hair, a beard and a scar under one of his eyes. On his back appeared to be a crossbow and a very nice looking one at that. 

“Ah stranger, forgive the aroma!” The man says as the sickening odor causes Winnie to grimace slightly.

“It's powdered ironvine. It'll make any monsters think twice before trying to make a meal of me.”

Winnie was about to introduce herself before suddenly Astarion cut in.

“You're a monster hunter? I'm surprised. I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats.” 

“Don't be rude.” The druid scolded him then glanced back at the hunter apologetically, “forgive him. The elf doesn't know when to stop talking.” 

“You should listen to your companion. Next he'll warn you that my people can curse your cow to give only sour milk or seduce your daughter to a life of roaming. I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess. Alas I am a simple wanderer.  A simple wanderer and monster hunter. But I'm no witch doctor or cutthroat.” 

“And what monster are you hunting exactly?” Winnie inquired.

“Something terrifying no doubt. Dragon? Cyclops? Kobold?” Astarion said, in a mocking tone.

“Nothing so dramatic. I'm hunting a vampire spawn.” The hunter replied.

“A vampire!?” The brunette haired druid’s eyes lit up at the statement. Her lips curled up into a giddy grin. “This sounds exciting! I've never had the opportunity to encounter one before!”

“I’d exercise caution friend, these creatures are not something you'd want to encounter unprepared. Nor are they as charming as the stories make them out to be.”

“Oh, I know they’re dangerous. I'm just very fascinated with monsters is all…” Winnie gave a shy chuckle. She seemed absolutely thrilled at the prospect of meeting a creature of the night. Her elven companion however immediately tensed. 

“So, why are you hunting this vampire spawn?” He asked, his voice was laced with curiosity, but his eyes had a look of distress in them.

“You’re asking a monster hunter why he's hunting a monster?” Shadowheart spoke up.

“Why not? All vampires can’t be bad? Can they?” Winnie hummed, her mouth forming a disappointed pout.

“I'm afraid they are. Vampires are godless parasites. There is no reason not to destroy them. But in this case it is a sacred mission from the head of my tribe. My orders are to capture the beast and return it to her.” 

“Capture? And bring it where, exactly?” Astarion asked, his eyes seemed trained on the hunter. 

“Baldur's Gate. My people wait for me there.” The gur explained.  It was then Winnie noticed Astarion’s tension. His hand inched for the dagger sheathed at his side. A fake smile spread across his face.

“You're asking a lot of questions.” She said, turning her head to look at the elf. 

“There's a lot to know.” Astarion giggled, feigning innocence before then approaching the hunter, leaving little room between the two. “I've crossed paths with your people before you know.” Astarion suddenly drew his dagger and before Winnie could even speak he jammed it straight through the monster hunter’s eye. “It wasn't a good experience.” He growled

“Astarion, what the hells!?” Shadowheart shouted.

“Was that really necessary!?” Gale called from behind them.

“Please tell me you had a good reason for that.” Winnie asked, looking at Astarion cautiously as he plucked his dagger from the corpse.

“He was spinning a tale and you were falling for it. Vampires? Sacred missions? Pft. Honestly.” Astarion huffed before turning back at me, the hunter’s blood had splattered across his face and was now dripping down the side of his cheek. “He would have followed us to camp and slit our throats in the night. Trust me I did us a favor.”

Winnie glared at him, crossing her arms. This was conflicting. Astarion could be all too stab happy at times, but he had watched her back in several fights since they'd joined up. 

“Now if we're done here we have more important things to get on to.”  Astarion said as he began to walk off.  Winnie turned back to the corpse, deciding she may as well make use of his belongings. Not like he'd be using them anymore anyway.  She took his crossbow and some magic arrows he had before following after the others. Gale and Shadowheart appeared to be whispering about whether or not it was wise to keep Astarion in the group after this little incident.

After a while Winnie spoke up, stepping between Astarion and the others.

“You dispatched the monster hunter rather quickly.”  

“I know. Wasn't it impressive?” Astarion smirked his eyes looking Winnie over.

“Doesn’t explain why.”

“Don't you worry your pretty little head about why. The gur are duplicitous reprobates. Didn't you see the look he gave you when you mentioned wanting to see a vampire? He was probably going to run you through for it. Claim you were some vampire fanatic. Luckily, you have me to look out for you, you sweet little thing.~” He purred the last few words. Winnie’s cheeks flushed and she mentally cursed. Damn him.  Ever since they'd started traveling she'd found herself very attracted to him. Unfortunately he was able to pick up on it quite easily, and take advantage of the soft spot she had for him.  “He won't bother us anymore. Now I've made sure of it.” 

[breakoutime]

HUEHUEHUE OC TIME! I think I may have posted her in this blog long ago but I tried to re-draw her and update her design a bit. Info under read more cuz im sure nobody really cares :V

My Hades game OC is a character I keep revamping for whatever my newest hyperfixation is, so her name isn’t really ancient Greek-y...

ANYWAY, this is Natalia Naves. She has a lot of lore, but it’s pretty stupid, if I’m honest. Most of it came from me not wanting to make her a shade in Hades I because it made me sad to think she was dead LOL.

But to try and make it short: she is a mortal who, through a series of bad luck, ended up in the underworld. She helped Zag with his escape attempts, and later Zag convinced Hades to at least give her a job, so she became another guard like Achilles.

She is some sort of demigod, as she is Aphrodite's great-great-great-granddaughter. I never liked how women were only granted incredible beauty when related to the gods, so Natalia was instead gifted with strength and fighting skills. In terms of personality, she is quite awkward. She was not socialized properly, so she tends to say inappropriate things. She looks tough, but she is actually very shy and not very smart, to be honest. BUT she is a friend with a heart of gold when you get to know her.

ALSO, she is kind of a self-insert, so she also has my terrible AMAZING taste in men. To make it more fun, the in-universe explanation for her crushes is that she is actually cursed by Aphrodite. You see, she never truly fell in love while on the surface, and of course, Aphrodite can’t have that. So she cursed her to fall in love with the most unavailable/most unlikely person to return her feelings ever. She fell in love with Hades when she met him. NOW thanks to Hades II, a new unavailable/unlikely love dropped, so now she is also in love with Chronos, which she has no idea how to deal with.

UGH, I could say much more about her, but this is already too long. If you've got this far, then u can send me a message saying the secred word 'meriwihihi' and a pic of your Hades OC, and I promise to try my best to make you a quick sketch of them :3 I love spreading OC love uwu

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Hi! If it’s not too much to ask, may I send in another request for Davy Jones in which the reader gets an anxiety attack and turns away from him, refusing for him to see her breakdown? He eventually finds her and he doesn’t leave her side, even after she tells him of what’s going on and he tries his best to reassure her or something?

If not, that’s okay! :)

Hello dear💖, thanks for the request.

Davy Jones x anxious reader🐙🌊

Comfort in an octopus's arms🐙

Summary: Y/n develops a nervous breakdown from a crewmate when Davy confides her in comfort.

warnings: none

-----

Y/n, a girl who’s trapped beneath the curse of the Flying Dutchman, sat below the sleeping quarters of the barnacle infested room. She trailed her fingers against the water droplets falling upside the wooden planked walls; the droplets ran up her fingers hitting the ceiling of the roof. The crew sleeping in the rotten infested bunks grunted and huffed as they slept. The crew that surrounded y/n were no longer men but beasts that were deformed; barnacles grew from their limbs, face or body. Vicious and cruel those men were, never do they spare the dead nor shed any mercy. Y/n placed her arm next to one of Davys men sleeping next to her; just as expected—Clear and smooth, no barnacles, no coral, no deformed fish skin or scales. Y/n was the biggest mystery of all, Davy had cursed each and every member of his crew but her. As a child y/n had heard the tales of Davy Jones from her own father, the most common being: years ago, a man fell in love with the sea only to be betrayed, now he was a deformed monster that shared no mercy upon those that encounter him.

Truly a sad tale but perhaps with redemption, there would be a possible slight chance he could regain the humanity he lost all those years ago.

Y/n turned to her side counting backwards from 10 until they shall resurface.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2—

1!”

A sudden push of the room shook the sleeping quarters, y/n held onto the side of her bunk bed only to be thrown off. The Flying Dutchman re-surfaced again upon the horizon, the broken, rotten ship sailing back toward it’s proper glory.

Y/n pushed herself from the ground of the cabin, she was covered in sea water and muck. The water droplets coming up from the ceiling soon started to drop down; droplets of water hit y/n’s cheek. The crew awoke with a grunt and sneer, toward the side of the sleeping cabin, a man spat out water looking around. His appearance was somewhat human except, his skin wasn’t fleshy and warm, barnacles were formed on the side of his cheek. He was…lifeless, a lifeless corpse that didn’t need to breath nor eat. His scraggly, wet hair laid all over his shoulders. The clothes he wore were torn and moldy; the lifeless sailor slammed his hand on the wall beside him. A hermit crab was caught within his grasp, raising his hand, he placed the hermit in his mouth with a loud ‘Crunch’.

Y/n cringed at the sight, just the thought of eating a raw, small hermit crab would’ve been awful to taste. “Not much of an early bird, eh? Bootstrap” Y/n smiled.

Y/n and Bootstrap had been somewhat close; “colleagues of the sea” if you had to define their relationship. Y/n and Bootstrap would usually have a game of liars dice now and then, minus the consequences that came with it. Bootstrap had taught y/n all the rules when riding inside the Dutchman, the one thing that caught her mind was the backstory of the captain. Bootstrap wouldn’t give as much information of the captain fearing he may be punished.

“Nah, but better then waking up from too much rum” Bootstrap hoisted himself from the bunk.

Y/n smiled in response; she followed the members of the crew toward the outside onto the main deck. She began to heave a bucket with soggy and mucky water toward the rum pot deckhands on the ship. The upper hand crew held the whips in their hands, their job was to keep the lower souls at bay. Y/n poured the mucky water all over the deck, brushes and rags all scrubbed, cleaning any spot of dirt along the wooden planks. The winds in the skies were holding quite strongly within luck, in y/n’s eyes, she hoped no poor lost soul would come into contact with the Flying Dutchman. On top of the quarter deck, the captain and his first mate looked over the horizon. Y/n turned behind her, she kept her eyes on the captain, thoughts began to plague her mind as she was deep in thought.

“I wonder, what Davy do to turn out this way?”.

“Perhaps was it his cruelty?”.

As y/n dozed off deep in thought, she had backed into a barnacle man with a whip. He was much taller, barnacles and corals covered his eyes. “And wha’ might be your excuse” he growled; sharp, crooked teeth bared his whole mouth. Y/n slowly backed up, her back was placed against a wall “I, I wasn’t supposed to be one of the deckhands sir, I’m just supposed to deliver the water to them.”

The barnacle head bared his teeth, snarling and gnarling at the nervous y/n. Y/n placed her hand over her pistol in-case things got too serious, she did know how to fight but it wasn’t like against the navy or another crew. This was with something inhuman, something monstrous that could y/n in half. Y/n’s fingers were laced over the trigger, her eyes widened to watch what move the barnacle head made next. In response the barnacle head grinned, he dropped the whip and instead grabbed his sword. In one fluid movement he pushed it against y/n’s throat; his face was directly grinning at her. Y/n turned her head away due to the man’s horrible stench, if you had to picture rotten fish sitting out for weeks that’s what it smelt like.

The pistol she held wasn’t close enough within her grasp, the sword pressed against her throat was stopping her from breathing. The air became thin as the barnacle head pushed further and further; her vision was becoming blurry. Y/n had to think fast however it seemed fate had already answered her call. A pistol shot directly into the barnacle heads shoulder; a growl in pain had emerged from the monster. Y/n looked up toward her savoir and long behold it was Davy Jones. Wait—it couldn’t have been him, how could someone as cruel and heartless as Davy someone for the likes as y/n. The captain walked down the steps toward y/n struggling to breath, she turned away from her captain trying to regain her composure. Davy snarled at the crew mate as the Barnacle head stood back. Y/n kept her eyes shut and prayed Davy would just leave her be “Mind tellin’ mah, wha’ in tha’ savan seas as’ goin’ on”.

Y/n pushed herself; she was too worked up trying to calm her hyperventilating down. Davy turned toward y/n however he couldn’t approach her as turned and ran back toward her sleeping quarters.

Davy shouted out “Y/N!” as he followed the girl.

Davy grabbed y/n with his claw hand, his eyes looked deeply into y/n’s, scaring her.

 “Captain I’m so—” she began too deeply breath in and out “Sorry”.

Davy’s tentacles curled and twisted as y/n apologized, he didn’t scream nor laugh at her response. “It was my fault for slacking off, I shouldn’t have been distracted” Y/n tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. Her fingers rubbed her eyes as they started to become red.

“How embarrassing, how could I cry in front of the most ruthless captain of all time, I’m a failure, I’m a failure, I’m a—” y/n felt soft tentacles curl against her face; reaching to brush her hair away and wiping the tears falling from her eyes. A hand with a long tentacle reaching from his fingers, touched the back of y/n’s coat; the other crab hand held y/n’s head. Y/n was astonished and bewildered, was Davy Jones hugging her, her? a girl that barely spoke to the captain unless given a direct order.

“Ah ain’t as cruel, ah’ thay say” Davy muttered “Yar bah tha onlah’ soul I would sahve’ in thas’ cruel life”.

Y/n realised that Davy perhaps after all this time, ever since she arrived, he had composed or more so regained some humanity toward her.

“Ya ain’t ah failure” he muttered once more.

Y/n in response wrapped her arms around the captains coat, she felt the edging of his tentacles softly touch her cheek. “I, I thank you for this comfort, Davy” y/n muttered.

“If I ad’ mah heart back, I would give it to you” Davy whispered.

Y/n nuzzled her face into Davy’s shoulder, his coat was wet and slimy but she ignored it. It was nice to have someone care for her or at least know of her anxious feeling.

Two members stuck on the Flying Dutchman sharing their pain together, a pain they can endure in a time of solace in each other’s arms.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta ✨

[sadiessoapbox]

Merciful Mother Persephone, hear my prayer and judge me true.

My name is Antigone.

I still have my name. I have lost more than I ever thought I could lose, but I still have my name. He cannot take that from me.

Dread Goddess Persephone, hear my story and avenge me well.

My uncle has tried to silence me, but he will not take my voice.

He locked me in this cell, but far too late. The people of Thebes have heard my words. They will rise up against my uncle's tyranny and repeat my message. My words will echo throughout the city long after I meet you in the Underworld. I shall be there soon.

Judge me on my own merits, not by the sins of my father and grandfather. Though their story is forever entangled with mine, it is their curse that led me here.

The curse which lay dormant all through our joyous childhood.

We spent many summers basking in the sun. My brothers, my sister, and I; how happy we were. We would play discus in the courtyard and explore the caves outside the city together.

We were happy.

We were blessed.

We were fools.

How were we to know just how fast our world could fall apart? How were we to predict the plague? The vile sickness spread throughout Thebes, covering our people with festering sores and filling their lungs with blood. The stench of death and human waste settled over the city like a black cloud.

Apollo must have cursed us. It was the only explanation. My father vowed to discover the reason why, so he could rectify the slight and save us all.

He should have let the plague take us. Then the world would have never known our family's story; the story of my mother's first son, the story of my father, the story of Oedipus.

Everything fell away after that. We were not blessed, The Gods were mocking us. Nursing us with honey so our first taste of ash would be all the more bitter.

Father couldn't handle the truth. He gouged out his own eyes and left Thebes.

My brothers were left to take up his role as king, but they couldn't decide on who was the rightful heir. My brothers were left to do what they did best; compete. We were no longer children. It was no longer a matter of who could throw the discus farthest or who could shove the most grapes in their mouth without choking. Now they had armies at their backs. Now they could use other men's lives as a part of their game.

Mother and I begged them both to stop. We watched as they met each other's blade. Their blood ran down the street, adding to the great red river that flowed past garbage and other corpses. Somehow I thought my brothers' blood would be different from that of a common soldier: gold from our royal birth or black from the abomination of our parents’ incest.

Eteocles’s death came swiftly, but Polynices struggled against Thanatos's embrace. Mother and I ran to him. Mother cradled his head like he was still a babe. I held his entails inside him. His intestines were warm and slick under my hands. I was his older sister. I was supposed to keep him safe, but I couldn’t force the blood back inside. He whimpered in Mother’s arms, blood bubbled out of his lips. He met my eyes, I could feel his fear in the core of my soul. With his last disjointed breath he asked me to give him funeral rites, to allow him to rest in the tomb of our forefathers. I vowed that I would. Then he shuddered in Mother’s arms and grew still.

Polynices. Eteocles.

They were my brothers.

My little brothers.

They loved each other, they really did. It was the curse that drove them mad.

My mother couldn’t handle it. The moment Polynices’s eyes glazed over she pulled a dagger from his belt and plunged it into her own chest.

Mother…

Dear Goddess, please show her pity. The love of your own mother is legendary. Even now I can feel her sorrow for you in the late winter chill. My mother’s life had not been easy. I fear she will only be judged on her marriage. She is so much more than that. She was a gentle mother and a respected Queen. She was the strongest woman I knew, but how much could a single woman lose? I didn’t even attempt to stop her.

With both my brothers dead, my mother’s brother took the throne of Thebes. When I told him of Polynices’s final plea, he scoffed at me. The way he saw it, Polynices was the usurper. His rebellion caused so much bloodshed in Thebes. My uncle declared that while Mother and Eteocles would receive full funeral rites and laid to rest in the family tomb, Polynices corpse was to be left for animals to feast upon.

I raged against his ruling. Polynices may have been a fool for rebelling, but he was still the prince of Thebes. He was still a part of this family.

My uncle berated me for speaking out of term. I was a woman, I was not to speak out against the king.

Damn his rules. Damn propriety. I have no more patience for the men in this family. My grandfather, my father, my brothers, my uncle: all of them suffer from the madness of the Curse. I would bury Polynices, even if I had to do it alone.

He caught me, but he couldn’t execute me. The people of Thebes were on my side. Even if Polynices raised an army against the city, leaving him to rot in the streets would surely anger the Gods even more. So he imprisoned me deep within the castle. Perhaps he thinks if he keeps me isolated for long enough I will change my stance. Perhaps he thinks the people of Thebes will forget about me. He is a fool.

I will die on my terms, I will not live on his.

So I call out to you, Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, to accept me into your embrace as I slip a coin under my tongue and a rope around my throat.

My name is Antigone, and I will meet you soon.

[lizardperson]

Tag Game: First 10 Lines Challenge

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

(thanks for tagging me @lorcaswhisky <3)

ok let's see

[1] Dark Lights, Shine Loud (Original Work; 10,198 words; ongoing)

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Mika cursed when her can of energy drink let out the familiar hiss of danger. Despite her best efforts and a few quick sips, she still managed to spill some of it on herself and the couch. Great, another point for Nic's long list of things to be pissed about. As if the general mood in this apartment hadn't been shitty enough those last few weeks. Oh well, let her bitch then.

[2] No City For Old Men (Fallout: New Vegas; 4,163 words)

"Now if that isn't my favorite old man!" A familiar voice cutting through the background noise of the busy bar pulled Gabriel out of his thoughts, and he turned around. "Mika?"

[3] Just One More Step (Fallout: New Vegas; 326 words)

Eyes on the horizon. One foot in front of the other. Just one step. Then another. Another. Another. Just one more step. Away from this nightmare place. Away from the cloud. Away from the ghost people and the radios and the holograms. Away from Elijah and his fucking vault. West, towards the Mojave.

[4] 4261 Days (Original Work; 690 words)

(this one technically starts with a poem not by me which i'm skipping here)

One day since she left. Daria knows she's supposed to be in pain right now, but it barely hurts. There's just numbness. Hardly any feelings at all. It's fine, she'll manage. She has to.

[5] How To Live Your Life Without Breathing (Original Work; 736 words)

July had always been scared, wrapped up in fear all her life. The horrible knot in her chest, expanding, suffocating her. Strangling her, harder on some days, lighter on others - but never gone. Like a tumor, growing and multiplying, like nothing could ever stop it. Making it impossible to breathe.

[6] In Whiskey Veritas (Fallout: New Vegas; 963 words)

"I'm telling you, I'm gonna make a real whiskey drinker out of you!" Cass slurred, taking another swig from her bottle. Then she started coughing - turned out, drinking while lying on your back wasn't the best idea. Mika laughed and grabbed the bottle to take a careful sip. "Still tastes like ass!" she complained, then tried to put the bottle down, but missed the bedside table and dropped it on the floor. Drunk as they were, they both found this hilarious and couldn’t stop giggling.

[7] He runs and he runs and he runs (Original Work; 605 words)

After Gabriel gets the call, the first thing he does is fall apart. The second thing is to scrape himself up off the floor again and put on his running shoes. Your mother died last night. He runs. Your mother got killed last night. He runs, trying to make sense of it. He killed her. He runs, trying to make sense of the fact that his father just murdered his mother. How do you even run from that.

So these last 3 are technically all in one work, however that is a oneshot collection so i've decided to just pick my favorite 3 :> The whole thing is Fallout: New Vegas, currently sits at 7,457 words and will go on for as long as I have fun with it.

[8] Friendly Fire

"I'm so fucking sorry." "You mentioned that." "Because I am," Mika emphasized. "Really sorry." Gabriel sighed. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

[9] Peaceful Slumber

Gabriel had promised that he would wake her up early. They had a ton of things to get done, people to talk to, places to be. And usually, he had no problem with doing exactly that - they both didn't need much sleep in general, and got out of bed easily. Unfortunately, right now, Mika looked way too peaceful to disturb her.

[10] Nuka Cola Quantum

"You can't be serious." "What?" "Mika, it's literally glowing blue," Gabriel stated, gesturing at the strange soda bottle on the table in front of them. Ralph, the local merchant, had somehow managed to acquire a whole case of them for Mika. She and her damn Old World treats…

Pattern: beginnings are the WORST actually. so my normal stuff usually starts in the middle of some dialogue because i just cant do it any better lol. my more "experimental" stuff with the many repetitions and stuff starts however, i dont think there's a clear pattern on those?

also i just wanna say, i still think my baby Dark Lights, Shine Loud starts pretty well actually, because it introduces Mika perfectly - cursing, consuming caffeine, and making a mess. so on brand.

tagging uhhhhhh @ladyswillmart @ladyunderthemolehill @shadesofmauve @phoenix-is-still-here and whoever else feels like it? if you're reading this consider yourself tagged 🙏

[ofliterarynature]

SEPTEMBER 2023 WRAP UP

[ loved liked ok no thanks (reread) book club* DNF ]

The Anomaly | Not the Witch You Wed | A Pale Light In the Black | (My Volcano)* | Klara and the Sun | Our Hideous Progeny | (A Gathering of Shadows) | A Dangerous Collaboration | Empire of Sand | (A Darker Shade of Magic) | Scattered Showers | A Treacherous Curse | Sir Hereward and Mister Fitz | The Hanged Man | Magic Below Stairs | The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy | The City & The City | The Splinter in the Sky

* * * * *

Magic Below Stairs was a charming middle-grade spin off to the Cecelia & Kate series, I had a good time and would be more than happy to read more books in this world!

The Hanged Man was the second in the Tarot Sequence, and still great! Not perfect, but the characters are so fun and the plots are extremely intense, I loved reading this. The haunted ship was scarier than the actual haunted ship horror book I just read.

Sir Hereward and Mister Fitz…bad. You took this amazing set up and look what you did with it! You made it generic and boring and feeling outdated. Justice for the centuries-old, animated, sentient, sorcerous, gender-fluid puppet who deserved better (to be the main character, to start)

(Veronica Speedwell is of course, fun as always. I have unfortunately now hit the books with longer hold times and am very D: about it)

Scattered Showers was a very heartwarming collection! Perfectly (and maybe, best) suited for fans of the author’s novels. Perhaps a little one-note, but a good read. I love the cover design a lot :D

This is the first time I’ve reread the Shades of Magic books since I finished the series in 2018. I loved them dearly. But my tastes shifted dramatically between then and now… ADSOM is ok. A decently solid fantasy novel, but not one that’s delivering what I want these days. A Gathering of Shadows, however, is a hot mess. I already did some yelling about it but there’s really not a plot, the storyline seems forced, and as asexualbookbird put it, it’s really just Book 3: The Prequel. I don’t know if reading it for the first time would be better? Mostly I was bored and irritated and would have loved to quit.

Somebody help me out, was there hype for Empire of Sand? Because I feel like there was, and I was so let down. The world building was beautiful, but it felt like absolutely nothing happened for the entire middle of the book? And the romantic elements weren’t enough to tempt me, I’d have loved this if it had gone full political intrigue instead.

I’m not a Frankenstein person, but I had a great time with Our Hideous Progeny! I’m a sucker for historical fiction with smart female characters, even if I wanted to strangle a lot of the men, lol. I might have zoned out a bit during the denser paleontological bits, but I look forward to future work by the author.

Klara and the Sun is another one I don’t quite understand the love for, it just wasn’t for me.

My Volcano. YES. IT IS BACK AGAIN. FOR BOOKCLUB AGAIN EVEN. This is such a complicated book that only two of us managed to finish it for book club when we first read it last year. Now that we have some new recruits we decided to try it again (no luck alas). BUT I am still not over it, check out my tag for more yelling. Right now I’m trying to convince the group to *not* do a third read next year and maybe try one of the author’s other books (and the author followed me back on Twitter! I got irrationally excited lol)

I was a bit nervous going into A Pale Light in the Black, having had some flops from the person who rec’d this previously, but it was so fun! ‘Space Coast Guard’ is not a thing that would immediately leap to mind as something I’d be interested in, but this goes *hard* on the found family vibes and spends just as much time on the characters’ emotions as it does on the plot, in addition to being super queer! The plot is a little clunky being split in two different directions with the investigation and the military games, but I still had such a good time (and speaking from the future, book 2 does improve on that!)

When will I learn my lesson about contemporary romance? Regardless of the fact that the plot for Not the Witch You Wed could have been ripped from one of the many many Teen Wolf fics I’ve read and enjoyed, we did *not* get along. Sigh.

I’m not sure what I was expecting from The Anomaly, but I think it was something more? Probably because it was a translation? Idk, I don’t find the “are we just a simulation” discussion particularly compelling (and My Volcano deals with related topics in more interesting ways), and the rest couldn’t hold me. Really wish I’d DNF’d this one, but I pushed though in hope.

The actual DNF’s -

The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy I wanted to like. I enjoy quirky world building, but it felt like a contemporary romance masquerading as a fantasy - accompanied by all those pesky cr tropes that annoy me. Most of the characters were irritating me as well, and I didn’t want to forgive Hart, even if I understand why he was being so awful, so I decided to quit before I worked myself up too far.

The City & The City had a cool concept, but after 25% I still wasn’t interested. I’d maybe try something else from Mieville, but this wasn’t for me.

The Splinter in the Sky is a book that probably looked fantastic as an outline. But when it came to filling it out and connecting the dots, well…it was lacking a lot. Readable, maybe not worth the effort, but I’d give the author another try on a future work.

[wouldyoustilllovemeifiwasawyrm]

So Am I

Once a royal knight and guard of the Princess of Hyrule, Link is tasked with tracking her down after a mysterious shadow snatches her away in the night. Legends tell themselves over and over again. But he doesn't remember hearing a version of the story where the valiant hero falls into the dark lord's hands.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, not specific to any game, decided to create my own Link and throw him in the Torment Nexus, by which i mean Ganon takes him prisoner, its fine though he gets out again, Sassy Link (Legend of Zelda), popping into a story just before the climax

To say that this wasn’t part of the plan would be the understatement of the millennia.

Pain still radiated up the side of his skull from that moblin’s strike over an hour ago—at his best guess. The complete lack of natural light prevented a decent estimation of the passage of time. Cold, damp stone surrounded him on all sides but one. Thick iron bars separated him from the snorting, drooling tusks of a monstrous prison guard. The cuts and scrapes that littered his skin had mostly stopped bleeding, though the taste of iron had not left his mouth. A heavy chain clinked as Link gave another tug on the shackles around his wrists. Though they hadn’t taken his sword, almost seeming afraid of it, the blade wouldn’t do him much good if he couldn’t pull it from the scabbard on his back.

Had he known that agreeing to serve in the king’s army would eventually end with him chained up in a dungeon, he might have thought twice about it. Though, thinking back on his service, he knew that was a lie. This was probably going to happen whether he was a knight or not, given his habit of always getting himself in more trouble than he ought. As proud as his father had been the day he bowed before the king at the completion of his training, he doubted very much that his father would be very proud to see him now. If he was even still alive…

He rested his head on the cool stone behind him, pointedly ignoring the furious hissing of the guard every time he moved. He silently dared the little beast to try something. Even shackled, Link could still take on a small bokoblin…He grimaced, his ribs aching acutely as he moved. What a mess he’d gotten himself in. First, his charge went missing, then they got a ransom note from some dickhead calling himself the King of Evil (real original), and now he’s off on a quest to get her back. Somehow.

But instead of finding the princess, he found an ambush! Lucky him. And though plenty of demon blood now stained his tunic, so too did the blood of all of his brothers-in-arms who blindly followed him straight into a trap. Their faces flashed in his memory, their final gurgling cries cut off by the blades and clubs of two dozen demons apiece. While he could have made quick work of such adversaries himself, he let himself be caught off-guard. Princess Zelda’s silhouette tempted him further into the thick fog of the woods. He was so, so sure it was really her. A foolish notion. By the time he heard the first piercing of flesh behind him, it was too late. His friends, his brothers, the men who volunteered to take on this final assault and rescue fell in the mists of those cursed woods. Perhaps one day, the gods would forgive him. He doubted he would ever forgive himself.

Why the demons decided to take him captive rather than slaughter him with the rest of the knights, he still couldn’t figure out. Seemed a little pointless to him, letting him rot in a dungeon rather than killing him in a forest. Surely even the Demon King’s forces had better things to do than guard a prison.

The snorting changed, increasing in pitch. Link opened one eye as loud stomping approached from one of the heavy wooden doors. Not the one that Link was dragged through earlier, he noted. That one must lead deeper into the fortress.

The door slammed open, causing the little bokoblin to shriek in terror. It scurried further down the hall, hiding from whatever it was that now emerged from the doorway. It almost resembled a moblin, though much, much bigger. If it hadn’t been for the sheer terror that seized Link’s heart at the sight of it, he might almost find it comical how the demon had to stoop its massive, boar-shaped head to get through the doorway.

Two tusks curled inward from either side of a boar’s snout. A long, black robe covered most of the demon’s unnaturally blue body. Yellow eyes settled on him, burning with hatred. Leathery hands wrapped around the iron bars of the door between Link and whatever this was. Since it had scared off the only creature with the means to open the door, Link sat up a little straighter. It’d have a hell of a time trying to get to him without a-

KA-THUNK!

…key.

The iron door laid discarded beside the cell, twisted and mangled like thorns ripped from the ground. The demon hunched over, squeezing himself through the new opening until it fit itself inside the cold cell, which heated as steam rolled from the boar’s flaring nostrils.

Link scrambled to his feet, reaching again for his sword, but the shackles wouldn’t budge. The demon’s cloven hooves stomped through shallow puddles as it approached, sneering. “Well, well. What have my friends brought me today?”

The demon’s hand snatched Link’s throat, lifting him up. The shackles dug into his wrists, his joints screaming as they were pulled nearly to the point of breaking.

“Oh, I know you.” The beast snarled, almost laughing in deep, rumbling snorts. Sharp claws dug into Link’s chin, his bruised face turning as the demon examined him. “You’re the king’s attack dog, aren’t you?” The demon barked a laugh as it threw him back onto the stone floor. “No wonder the royal bitch keeps whining for you.”

Though every muscle and bone howled in pain, he forced himself to stand back up and face the demon. “Tell me where she is!”

Another rumbling laugh shook the cell. “You’re in no position to be making demands, pest.” It lowered its head, the stench of death on its breath. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for months.”

Bile rose in Link’s throat, the chains clanking as he fought to retrieve his sword. “I’ll be more than a thorn, demon!” Link spat. “I’ll spill your guts where you stand!”

The corner of the demon’s lip curled into a malicious sneer. “Aren’t you confident?” The demon chuckled darkly. “Shame I need you alive for the sacrifice. I’d much prefer to rip out your beating heart and eat it in front of you now.” A single claw jabbed into Link’s chest, drawing a trickle of blood. Link bit back a cry of pain and disgust as the demon’s fat, forked tongue licked his blood off its claw. “No matter. I’ll have my fun with you eventually.”

The demon’s huge hands grabbed the chains holding Link down. Like vines, the iron chains snapped loose from the wall. “Come along, hero. Can’t have you dying of neglect down here before I can kill you properly myself.”

A fierce tug on the shackles sent Link stumbling forward, the uneven floor rushing up toward his face. Before he crashed against the stone, the demon lifted the shackles high, growling as Link dangled off the ground. “You can either walk, or I’ll carry you like this, and I don’t care if an arm pops out of its socket along the way.”

Setting Link roughly back onto his feet, the hero reluctantly followed the demon out of the cell, the short leash of the chain keeping him nearly running at the demon’s heel to keep up. The bokoblin hissed as Link rounded the corner, reaching out a claw to slash at Link as the larger demon dragged him along. A more ferocious growl shooed the bokoblin back into the shadows before the blow struck.

The corridors twisted, stairs winding upward in a spiral that confused Link’s sense of direction and distance. Up and up and up further still. His feet stumbled over a few steps, the demon yanking Link up several more whenever his pace did not satisfy. Suddenly, the spiral ended. An iron ladder rose toward a trapdoor in the floor above them, through which faint light flowed down, bathing the blue demon in an eerie green hue.

“Delivery for you, Princess!” The demon laughed. Link suddenly felt himself yanked up as the demon climbed the ladder. The closed fist holding Link’s chains slammed into the door, slinging Link like a doll in a child’s careless hand. The trapdoor swung open with a loud CRACK as it slammed into the stone floor on the other side. “Here’s your precious hero!” With one final, merciless swing, the demon tossed him up through the hole and into the room above.

Link crashed face-first onto the floor of a circular room. The trapdoor slammed back again, the echo of metal on metal ringing through this new cell, along with the howling laughter of the demon that retreated back down the stairs.

With a groan, Link pushed himself up from the floor. All his arm muscles ached from his shoulders to his wrists. He didn’t know what a dislocated shoulder felt like, but if he had to hazard a guess…

“Link!” A woman’s voice exclaimed. The hem of a tattered gown, what had once been pink, came into view, along with heavily darned stockings. Firm, lithe hands lifted him gently from the floor, helping him sit up. Familiar forest green eyes swam with worry, scanning over what he was sure was a sorry sight. “Gods, are you alright? Oh, why am I even asking? Of course you aren’t. How long have you been here? What happened? Is my father alive? When did you leave the castle?”

Shackles jingled as Link held up a hand, his head spinning from the ordeal of being beaten, dragged, tossed, and bombarded with questions. If this was part of the Demon King’s interrogation process, some sort of illusion to make him spill his secrets, he wouldn’t fall for it. Though she did look very, very real. And her hands gently cupping his face felt very, very real.

Her green eyes flickered over his shoulder, widening in surprise. “You have it! The sword! How on earth- well, never mind that. That you have it, and now I have you, is enough for the moment. Though, we will need to deal with your injuries first.” Before Link could so much as say a word of explanation, she’d picked up his hand, turned it over, and began to work something into the lock. For several seconds, neither spoke, all of Allegedly-Zelda’s focus locked onto the shackle that bound Link’s left wrist to broken chains. Her nose scrunched like Real Zelda. Her lips moved in silence like Real Zelda. Her ears twitched like Real Zelda. And, perhaps most telling of all, her small gasp of delight and the clap of her hands as the shackle’s lock clicked open, reminded him very much of Real Zelda. But he had to be sure.

As soon as his left hand was free, though scraped, bruised, and blistered from the friction of being chained up and dragged about, Link reached out to her. When he pulled her lips down to meet his, he was convinced. She tasted like Real Zelda.

For a moment, however fleeting, he was back in the palace. He was outside her door, in the darkness of the long corridor, where only the moonlight dared to intrude. She held onto the collar of his uniform like it was her lifeline in a raging sea. Her breath was warm on his ear as she giggled, pressing kisses over his face. ”My father would be furious if he knew.” Link knew it all too well. He doubted the evenings they spent in the garden—a respectable distance away as she plucked roses and he stood guard by the gate—went unnoticed by the king, the captain, or any of the guards. ”Will you still stand by my door even if I marry the prince?” She’d asked him a dozen times, and a dozen times, he swore that he would. Though it boiled his blood to see her with him, to witness that pompous man’s arrogance as he spoke only of his plans for Hyrule’s future, he consoled himself with this: the prince would be frequently away, and Link could warm the princess’s bed in his absence.

But as Zelda pulled away, her auburn hair hovering like a curtain around her face, he could once again taste the blood and ash in his mouth. He’d traversed canyons and mountains, crossed deserts and marshes, delved into labyrinths and dungeons and caves, all for her, all at the orders of her father. He cut a path through the overgrown temple, he pulled the sacred sword from its pedestal, and set his quest in motion, for her sake. To hell with the cowardly prince who fled at the first sign of danger. To hell with the king who rested easy inside palace walls. To hell with all of Hyrule, for what it mattered. He had her, at last. His quest, finally, came to an end.

“I missed you.” He breathed, his lips aching again for her touch.

Yet, rather than the voracious fire that she so often consumed him with, her eyes held only cold focus. She picked up his other hand, working the hair pin into that lock. “We need to get out of here. The Demon King has almost all the components he needs for the ritual.”

He flexed his right hand, freed from the iron. “So, that was the Demon King, huh?” Link scoffed. “He’s not that tough.” A quick look from her chilled his blood. “What ritual?”

Zelda stood, offering her hand to him. “He intends to sacrifice me to extract the Triforce of Wisdom from my soul.”

A wave of frozen terror shuddered down his spine. His knees and arms trembled as he stood, though he would prefer to attribute that to injury than anxiety. He leaned back against a small table, noticing the oddness of the room for the first time. Though this was certainly also another cell in the Demon King’s fortress, this one was not the cold, dark room he had been left to rot in. It was almost a mockery of Zelda’s bedroom. High windows, too high and narrow for them to climb through, let in some daylight into the circular tower. Instead of a plush canopy bed, she had a mat of straw covered with threadbare linen. The pelt of some animal, maybe a bear by the wiriness of it, laid across the surface like a sort of blanket. A single chair of rough wood was tucked under a small table, on which was laid a single spoon. But despite all of this, there was beauty. And a spoon.

Lantern soot ink covered the walls, looping in elegant characters. And, the longer Link stared at the lines and dots, the heavier the art weighed on him. It was music. Some melodies he recognized, though many more appeared to be entirely new compositions. She was in solitude, total solitude, for months, with nothing but her own voice to console her. Though he fought with every fiber in his body to get to her, she had languished here, without communication, without friends, without hope. Locked away in this demon-infested dungeon…how did she endure it?

“Link?” Zelda asked, her hands again steadying him, holding him up as he trembled at the weight of his failure to rescue her. Now, they were both trapped here. He’d doomed them both. He’d meant to save her, to bring her home, and instead, he sentenced them both to a cruel and violent death.

A shaky breath filled his lungs as the dread set in. “He said he was going to eat my heart.” While the threat didn’t scare him before, the true implications of it for Zelda began to dawn on him. It was one thing for someone to threaten to kill him. That happened every other day. But to think that such a fate might have befallen Zelda, might still befall her if he was unsuccessful in his rescue; it was too much to imagine. “Is that…the ritual?”

Though he was sure a lack of sunlight had turned her skin pale, even her freckles hiding away in the shadows, her complexion took on still more pallor. She nodded slowly. “He means to kill us both. If he does so, if he gets the complete Triforce, no one will be able to stop him. He will plunge Hyrule, perhaps all of the world of light, into eternal night.”

It was never his most flattering trait, but it served him decently well thus far. He laughed, almost as manic as he felt at such a revelation. “Oh, is that all? Haha!” Link felt his heart pulse inside his chest, the weakness in his joints making him wobble. “So, we’re trapped up here like prize turkeys until he prepares the feast and slaughters us? Awesome! That’s great! Haha!”

“Link, listen to me.” Zelda pressed her palms against his cheeks, forcing him to focus on her stern expression. “We aren’t going to die. We are going to get out of here. I couldn’t before, but I can now. I have you. And we are going to live. We are going to kill Ganon.” As if to add force to her words, she pressed a kiss to his dirty forehead. “The Goddesses blessed me with the Triforce of Wisdom. The Goddesses bestowed upon you the Triforce of Courage. Though I guessed it when you first joined my father’s service, that sword on your back confirms your divine calling. You must be courageous, Link. We will not survive if you give up before the fight has even begun.”

Her kiss, though brief, sent shocks through his battered body. His eyes fluttered closed, shutting out all but her gentle touch for as long as it lasted. He was tired, so tired, and scared out of his mind.

”Do it scared.” His father’s severe expression refused to budge despite Link’s pleas. He raised his sword toward the other boys at the end of the courtyard, pointing with the blade to those much bigger than him, who swung their swords and bashed the shields with more ferocity than Link had ever witnessed among the children in his home village. He was no longer the best swordsman, easily besting his peers. He was one knight’s son among dozens and dozens of knights’ sons, all competing to be selected for the king’s army. “It’s alright to be scared, Link. A true knight of Hyrule is courageous not because he feels no fear, but because he understands that his duty is greater than the fear. Do it scared.”

His eyes flew open, settling on hers. He would do it. He was scared. He would do it scared. “What do you need me to do, Princess?”

Smiling, such a bright ray of hope amongst the misery of this place, Zelda withdrew from him. She reached under the straw mattress and retrieved a small glass bottle, in which sparkled a small, flickering light. “First things first, we need to lift up that grate on the floor. And I doubt very much you’ll be able to do so in your current state.” With a pop!, she uncorked the bottle. The light flew out and circled around her, following her pointing finger and zipping over to Link. Wherever the light sparkled over his body, cuts closed. Bruises faded into the natural tones of his skin. His bones no longer ached, and his muscles knit back together. The smallest wings he’d ever seen zipped in front of his eyes before flying up and out of the tall window. “Tell the Great Fairy!” Zelda called, cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting up to the disappearing glimmer. “Tell her everything!”

Link took a deep breath. His chest no longer stabbed at him with sharp inner pain. So, that was a fairy! He thought they were all extinct. He’d never been happier to be proven wrong. He knelt by the grate, tugging on the metal. It wouldn’t budge. Even with his renewed vigor, there was no way-

Chains clinked down, the cuff of a shackle hooking around on the iron bars. Zelda pulled over the table, laying the chain across it so the loose end hung on the other side. Link stared at her a moment before it clicked. A pulley!

He rushed to her side, grabbing hold of the loose end of the chain. With her help, the iron grate that kept them penned slowly, slowly, lifted. It creaked and groaned, then gravity took hold and slammed it onto the stone floor. Open.

Link laughed, breathless from the exertion. “Triforce of Wisdom. That tracks for you. So, that leaves the Demon King with the Triforce of Power, then?”

Zelda nodded, letting go of the chain and heading toward the hole in the floor. “I believe so, yes. He is a formidable opponent.”

Shink! Free at last, the Master Sword gleamed in the thin stream of sunlight, once again in his left hand where it belonged. “So am I.”