#intended to be done around dinner but that's seeming unlikely

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Five

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. A little mention fighting but nothing too detailed.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

A/N: What is that? Oh! Is it a small ember? Will it blaze into a fire? :3

She had no reason to stay. There was no one holding her back. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave.

It was probably because she felt safe with Mushi and, she was reluctant to admit, Li. For all her bravado and tough front, Orora couldn’t deny that she had felt slightly unsafe while traveling alone. Mushi was a kind man. He was always nice to her, and when she showed interest in the meditating techniques he practiced from time to time, he invited her to join him. They were created for firebenders, he had told her, but no harm ever came in learning something new.

And did she ever.

It had taken her awhile to come out of her shell, a few days at the most, but once she did, Orora learned something new from Mushi every single day. He was just so wise and patient, so unlike the adults and males she had had in her life. It was safe to say that just a day or so after her encounter with Li when he snuck off, she had begun to grow fond of the old man.

She had so many questions to ask about the world, and it seemed Mushi had been everywhere. Everyday, once dinner was over, she would take out the map she had and point to a random spot and Mushi would proceed to tell her all about it. Orora hung on to his every word, eyes glazed and mind wandering, dreaming of the day she would get to see all those places herself.

He even began to help her with her fighting form and stances. Turns out learning on her own had drawbacks, and her posture was wrong for more then a few stances. Mushi was kind and patient with her, teaching her the proper way, and giving her little tidbits of information that would help her. Even with her waterbending.

It surprised her when he informed her that he had learned to create a few firebending moves by studying the waterbenders. All of which he proceeded to teach her. She did put her own spin on it, wanting to use ice wherever she could. It was just an affinity she had. It came so easy to her. And the weapons were sharp and deadly, with the intent to do damage, which was exactly what she intended to cause.

Within a few weeks, as the trio traveled, she and Mushi grew closer, with him becoming something of a mentor to her, and Orora had taken to calling him Master every now and then. The first time she had done so, he had merely laughed and brushed her off, yet it stuck with her, and from that point on, she called him as such.

Li, however, was a whole other problem.

He would still sneak away, and after the initial night, Orora hadn’t followed after him. He would return with food and whatever necessity they would need, like blankets and such. Whatever he brought back Orora refused to take. She had all her supplies, and could get food on her own. But spending an entire day traveling did tire her out, and sometimes she didn’t have it in her to go out and forage for food. She tried to gather enough during the day during their trek along paths unknown to fill her bag with fruits and nuts of various sorts.

Her pride didn’t allow her to eat the food Li brought, no matter how much Mushi tried to convince her otherwise. As a result she began to have a rather pinched look about her cheeks, and despite the fruit and fish she ate, there was still a sense of hunger within her. Every now and then she would have enough money for bread and such, but Mushi and Li couldn’t risk going too close to the villages nearby, and not wanting to loose them by accident, Orora tended to stay close.

One early morning, she was sitting in front of Mushi, practicing one of his meditation exercises. The atmosphere was calm and she could feel her head begin to clear of every thought as she slipped into a tranquil state. That is until she felt that annoying tug on her finger, informing her that her soulmate was back from robbing people.

Her head whipped to the entrance of their small cave. The sudden act caused Mushi to glance up at her. Her eyes narrowed well before Li came into view, holding a basket full of what looked like sweet rolls and some type of fruit. The retired General frowned, how could Orora know his nephew was approaching before he even came into view? He certainly hadn’t heart anything.

The boy walked up and dumped it, rather rudely she might add, in front of his Uncle. “Where did you get these?” Mushi asked, looking at his nephew rather suspiciously. Li had already turned and was walking away.

“What does it matter where they came from?” He said. He hadn’t even spared her a glance, and Orora bristled at the obvious dismissal he carried for her very existence.

She heard Mushi hum in contemplation under his breath before biting into the sweet roll. He made to offer her one, but she shook her head with a polite no.

“Did no one teach Li any manners?” She suddenly asked, his behavior around his Uncle getting on her nerves. How someone could treat their elders so disrespectfully was beyond her. She had never liked her Father, yet she had shown him respect to the best of her ability.

The old man sighed, his eyes casting downwards. “My nephew has had a very difficult life Orora. And what he is going through at the moment, I do not blame him for feeling as he is.” He looked after where Li had gone.

Orora shrugged. “Still, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be rude to you, Master.” Her words prompted Mushi to give her a gentle smile. “You are too kind for your own good Orora.” He stated warmly. The young waterbender felt her cheeks flush as she shyly returned the smile. 

“Hardly.” She muttered, before turning back to her meditation.

                                             ————————–

Orora didn’t realize just how long she sat there quietly. When she finally opened her eyes, Mushi was gone. She wasn’t worried. He tended to slip away every now and then. Left to her own devices, she pulled out one of her waterbending scrolls. She may not be around water, with the nearest stream being five minutes away, but she had enough in her canteen. Though first she had to memorize the actions without the water.

Standing up, she slowly began to go through the motions of one rather tricky bending form. She fumbled the first few times, but soon she began to get the hang of it. The young waterbender repeated the motions over and over, loosing herself in the fluidity of the action, her arms flowing along the length of her body, her feet sure and her body gracefully as it moved.

She had her eyes closed as she ran through the exercises, hardly noticing when her finger gave a tug. Only when she heard a light cough did she pause and open her eyes. Sweat lined her brow and upper lip, as she tried to catch her breath. Seeing Li standing there with all of his purchase she couldn’t help but let her eyes go wide as she blurted out.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” She exclaimed softly. Li, who had been staring at her as if she were someone, or something, he had never encountered before, simply shouldered past her. Setting down all the things he carried, he moved to light the fire with a simple flick of his wrist.

Orora frowned in disapproval. “Who did you steal from this time?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at Li who was now lounging in front of the fire. Still no reply. “What are you going to ignore me now? You didn’t seem to mind talking to me a week or so ago.”

Still nothing. She moved to inspect the tea set he had brought. A little too gaudy by her standards. “You know maybe instead of stealing, you should try to make an honest living.” This time he turned his gaze towards her, eyes gleaming with anger. “Yeah? And how will I do that? In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have the resources to do anything besides stealing.”

“Thats just an excuse. Everyone has a talent they can use. I use my healing ability to get some money.” Li rolled his eyes at her. “Well I’m not some untrained waterbender like you who can bat her eyes and get whatever she wants.” Anger rolled through her entire being as she fumed. “Should I give you a reminder how this untrained waterbender took you down without batting an eye?” Her fingers played with the cork of her water canteen, just itching to pull out the water and freeze him to the nearest wall and leave him there.

Though he’d probably melt himself out instantly, it would bring her some satisfaction.

“Only because you caught me by surprise. I doubt you will last in a real battle.” He stated, his tone condescending. “If it had been a real battle, you would be dead.”

A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Would she die? If she were to face someone in a real battle? Still Li had no reason to go and say what he said, though she did detect a glimmer of regret after he said those words. Though that was probably her own misleading mind.

What Orora did next was probably not one her best move.

“Then lets have one right here. No bending. Just hand-to-hand.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes as she moved to stand in the small clearing outside the cave. “I don’t have time for that.” He stated, prompting Orora to goad him even further.

“Why? Afraid you’ll loose to a girl?” She gave a smirk, knowing boys hated having girls say that. It seemed to be the right thing to say. Besides Orora had learned it didn’t take long for Li to get mad. Almost anything could light his fuse. When he still didn’t move, she shrugged.

“Alright then, I guess its safe to assume you’re just all talk and no-AH!” It was only the most basic of her instincts that had her rolling out of the line of fire.

Literally.

“Spirits! I said no bending!” She called to Li who was now standing and assuming a firebending stance. He glared at her. “In a real fight, you should always expect the unexpected.”

With that he threw another fireball at her. Unclasping her cloak from around her neck, Orora threw it aside as she jumped up, the tips of her shoes just barely grazing against the burning flames.

“Fine! If its a real fight you want.” She pulled water from her canteen, creating multiple icicles between her fingers as she dropped into her own stance. “Then thats what you’ll get.”

The two of them crouched waiting for the other to strike first. Their eyes met, ice blue clashing against flaming gold.

And then they unleashed every bit of emotion they had been holding back since they met one another.

The battle was raw, every bending move had an intensity behind it. Pure emotion and power. Emotions that would be perceived as negative, but what fueled the two teens like steam powered an engine. It took all of Orora’s concentration to not slip as she dodged his attacks, while throwing back her own. Her response was a little slow at first, but as the battle went on, and the adrenaline raced through her body, she began to make split second decisions, getting quicker on her feet, faster with her bending. More then once she made a mistake in the manuever, but it didn’t matter to her. So long as she caused some damage.

Back and forth, back and forth. Ice and flames, water and fire. They seemed to be dancing to the drums of war as they circled one another, looking for the chance to find a weakness.

It was midway through when Orora realized that she needed more water. Which was why she aimed an ice spear at him, and ran off. Li was hot on her heels as she burst through the trees and jumped into the stream. Instantly she could feel the power of her element encompass her. While Li stood at the bank, she used the advantage of being in her element to meet his blows to the best of her ability.

But it had been a long time now, and she had begun to grow tired, though he showed no signs of fatigue. She was beginning to loose concentration. She nearly lost her balance while blocking one of his attacks, at which she decided to conclude the battle while she still had the strength.

“This ends now!” Orora screamed as she threw all her remaining strength forward, encasing Li in a wall of pure ice. She was panting heavily, sweat making her clothes cling to her body as she prepared to create multiple ice spears to point at him.

What she didn’t calculate was that Li had been waiting to execute his last move. One that included him letting out a loud roar, followed by plumes of fire from his hands, feet and mouth.

The heat was too intense, causing her to stumble back, covering her face with her arms as she did. She nearly fell back, but a hand reached out to grip the front of her shirt. Orora lowered her arms in time to see Li raise a fist and aim it at her head. But it only hovered in the air. Her eyes drifted from the fist to Li’s face.

There was barely any distance between the two of them. Their breaths mingled as they each tried to catch their breath. Neither of them knew just how long they just stood there.

Yet never once did their gaze falter, look away from the other and hardly blinked.

Finally, he let go, allowing Orora to step back, putting some distance between them. “Don’t ever challenge me again.” He said, already turning back towards their camp.

Orora stood where she was, anger and humiliation raging under her skin, yet there was also something else. Something that was similar to anger and yet different. Whatever it was, what she did know was that she had lost.

A frustrated sound left her lips as she threw her arm out, causing a small wave of water to crash on the other side of the bank. Dropping to her knees, she began to breath heavily, trying her best to calm herself.

                                             ————————–

Their battle had scared away any aquatic life further up the stream. Orora had to wait for a little while before they finally started to come back. And once she had enough fish for herself, Mushi and.....Li, she began to the walk back to the cave. Pushing away the leaves that hid the cave from view she approached the clearing in time to catch the last few words Mushi was speaking to Li.

“In the darkest time. Hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength.”

She paused, wandering what had made Mushi offer such words to the young firebender. Whatever it was, the conversation seemed to be over, as Li promptly stood up and walked out of the cave.

He passed her, his eyes flickering in her direction for a brief second before he disappeared into the woods. She stared after him. “Is everything alright?” She asked, as she set down the fish she had already cleaned and began to push the sticks through them to set them over the fire.

Mushi sighed deeply. “As I have told you Orora, Li has been going through some very difficult times.” He looked out to where the boy had disappeared. “And I am afraid he has started to loose hope.”

She placed the last of the fish atop the fire and watched as it began to cook, monitoring it’s progress. “Maybe if he finds something to live for, he can start having some hope again?” She suggested, playing with one of the leftover stick by flicking it against the floor of the cave.

Mushi nodded. “I had always hoped he would find his soulmate, and that they would help him realize his true worth.” A deep sigh fell from his lips. “Though with how cruel fate has been to him, I doubt it would offer him some respite in the form of a soulmate.”

The old man glanced at the young girl out of the corner of his eyes, noticing how she had stiffened at the mention of the word soulmate. How her gaze had dropped to the smallest finger of her left hand, and her hands had clenched at her sides, as it she were hiding something only she could see.

He had begun to have his suspicions, but he still needed some more proof before drawing his conclusion.

                                             ————————–

Orora made sure to set some of the fish aside for Li. It wasn’t much, certainly nothing compared to the roast and sweet buns he had brought, but he wasn’t eating that either. She doubted he would eat something so meager and simple as fish.

But she could at least try.

She hated to admit it, but what Mushi had said did effect her. Maybe she should try and help Li? Not as his soulmate, she was still sticking to her initial decision of having nothing to do with the bond, but rather as someone whose life he had saved.

Life. He had saved her. She owed him.

The sun would be setting soon, she mused as she picked up the leaf that she had wrapped the fish in to keep warm, maybe she should try and bring him some food. If she could find him.

Without a word she walked out of the cave, leaving Mushi to smile softly at her retreating figure.

Orora didn’t have to walk every far. Surprisingly Li was sitting at the edge of the lake where they had battled it out a few hours ago. It almost felt like a dream what had occurred.

He glanced back at her, obviously alerted by her arrival, but turned his attention back to the still surface of the lake.

“I brought you some dinner.” She said, her voice soft as she came to stand beside him, holding the wrapped fish out towards him. He didn’t respond, sitting with his arms crossed above his raised knee. “Your Uncle is getting worried about you, maybe you should come back to the cave?” She suggested, as she leaned down to set the food beside him.

Silence greeted her words, prompting her to purse her lips before she made to walk away from the way she came.

That is until he stopped her with a question.

                                              ————————–

“How do you do it?” Despite his best efforts to not say anything, Zuko couldn’t help as the question tumbled from his lips. He felt her pause where she stood beside him.

“Do what?” Ororas asked, her voice soft as she tried hard not to feel satisfied that he was now speaking to her.

“You spoke to my Uncle, told him about the life you had up in the North. You had every comfort in the world and yet you left all that.” He frowned, still not meeting her gaze. “I just don’t understand how a person who had everything would just leave like that.”

There was a moment where neither of them said anything or moved. But then Orora slid down to sit next to him. The small leaf package was the only wall between them as they sat. With her legs crossed under her, Orora folded her hands in her lap, fingers interlocking before she began to speak. 

“In my Tribe, girls are never taught to fight. From the moment they are born, they are told that their only place is to get married to a man of their elder’s choosing. And if they have the gift of waterbending they’re sent straight to the Healing Huts once they become of age. And I did all of that. I wanted to be respectful to my family and their wishes for me and I did whatever they asked me to.”

Slowly she lifted one hand, allowing a small ball of water to rise from the lake and hover over her palm. Zuko watched, slightly fascinated, as she began to create different shapes with it. “But no matter what I did, it always felt wrong. I didn’t feel like myself and I just felt out of place.” A miniature ice flower formed in her hand as she shifted to created ice sculptures instead.

"My grandmother gave me some waterbending scrolls just before she died. It was her only act of rebellion. She told me that she wanted me to learn how to fight, that for so long women of our tribe had been helpless. And she didn’t want that for me.” A small ice figure of an old woman rested against her palm, which Zuko assumed was her grandmother.

“Once I began to practice it all just clicked into place. I realized I had found my true calling. Sure, I loved the healing part of my abilities but learning to fight, creating ice, I finally felt that last puzzle piece fit.”

A smile pulled at her lips. “Of course, once my father found out that I had engaged in a fight against one of the Fire Nation soldiers, despite the fact that I had saved lives, he disowned me.”

She said that with such casualness that it prompted Zuko to stare at her, his eyes slightly wide. “He what?” Orora shrugged. “My father never really had love for any woman, he thought they had no other purpose other then giving birth.” She admitted, multiple ice spikes protruding from the ball of ice she now held.

“Is that why you left?” He asked, feeling a certain dread at just how similar their past was. How their relationship was with their fathers. Orora hummed. “Well yes, and no. I could’ve stayed there, found a job and made something of myself.” Her hand shot up, allowing the water ball to rise to the sky. Both their gazes followed it’s ascent, watching as rays from the setting sun made it look as if it were a ball of fire.

Her arm held skyward to hold the water ball in place Orora spoke. “I wanted to see more of the world. Beyond the walls of the Northern Water Tribe. I have only been traveling for a few weeks and I have had more excitement then in the all the years I lived up North.”

A flick of her wrist and the ball exploded in tiny droplets of water that rained down on them. Zuko barely felt them, his gaze fixed on the girl beside him. “And though I knew I would be leaving everything I knew behind, in a way by disowning me, my father allowed me to live life on my own terms.”

She gave a wry smile. “One of these days, I’ll go back and thank him.” Her tone was sarcastic, though Zuko could detect a hint of sadness in her eyes as she turned her head to look at him.

“Your Uncle helped me see that what I shall fight for is my newfound freedom. And I am sure that given a little time, you shall find your own reason to fight as well.”

The two teenagers stared at one another, with Zuko being the first one to look away. Seemingly satisfied, the young girl rose to her feet, walking away a few paces.

“Li?” Zuko turned his head to look at her.

She was standing there, half hidden in the shadows of the leaves from the trees above her. But he couldn’t deny the sight of a smile on her lips. The first time she had smiled at him.

“Thank you for saving me. I owe you.” With a small incline of her head, she turned away to return to the small cave.

Zuko sat there, stunned. He certainly hadn’t been expected her to thank him. The two of you barely mentioned that night, other then the topic being barely touched upon the first night she had seen him sneak away.

His golden gaze dropped to the fish she had brought him. He picked it up, unwrapped the vine that kept the leaves in place and began to eat.

Unbeknownst to the both of them, the thread connecting them flickered with color before resuming it’s white hue.

                                              ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Blue Castle Book Club 2.0 - Chapter 9

Okay, new week, new me, new unrelated story that ate my life for 20,000 words, and we’re back to Deerwood at last. We rejoin the Stirlings after a timeskip of their own, during which time Valancy has undergone a marked shift in her behavior.

Looking at the list of things Valancy does before the fateful dinner, it’s immediately notable how minor they all are:

“She did not seem to worry in the least over the fact that her mother was not speaking to her. You would never suppose she noticed it at all. She had flatly refused to take either Purple Pills or Redfern’s Bitters. She had announced coolly that she did not intend to answer to the name of “Doss” any longer. She had told Cousin Stickles that she wished she would give up wearing that brooch with Cousin Artemas Stickles’ hair in it. She had moved her bed in her room to the opposite corner. She had read Magic of Wings Sunday afternoon.”

The bit with the hair brooch feels a bit uncalled for – although no doubt Cousin Stickles has gone on and on about it for all of Valancy’s life – but even that sounds like it was a one-time event. From the narration, it sounds like Valancy mentioned once that she thought the brooch was ugly and then moved on. Much like the banister a couple paragraphs down, it sounds like Valancy is working through a wishlist of thoughts she’s always had and never been able to act on. Unlike her relations, Valancy seems to have no interest in dwelling on things. She does something because she wants to. If she finds she enjoyed it, she continues doing it. If she just wanted to do it once, she does it and moves on.

In contrast, the Stirlings are forever being described as doing the same things they always do. They don’t do things because they enjoy them, or even because they think it’s the right thing to do, they do things because those are the things they do. From the start we’ve seen Valancy be able to predict exactly how the canceled picnic would go, heard specifically that she and Mrs. Fredrick and Cousin Stickles talk “of the things they always talk of” at breakfast (and heard that Valancy specifically does not ever try to talk about anything else), know that Uncle Benjamin always makes the same jokes, that Christine Stickles always asks her the same questions when she leaves the house. Soon, we will learn that they all tell the same stories every time they gather together like clockwork.

Valancy announces that she shan’t go to the Anglican Church, because it is the one they have always taken her to. Her quarrel is not with the concept of going to church – and, indeed, as we move through the story Valancy does not once give up the habit of going to church – but with the fact that she has been forced all her life to go to this church. At no point does theology come into it for either Valancy or her mother.

(Aside: until I googled it I had always assumed that the “sharper than a serpent’s tooth” line was a bible quotation. I am informed that it’s Shakespeare instead, the other canon for every common English-language quotation. What are the odds that Mrs. Stirling, who does not approve of novels and so probably wouldn’t care for plays either, also believes it to be a bible quote and that’s why she pulls it out in this discussion about going to church? We’ve already seen Uncle Benjamin get taken down a peg for thinking he’s more cultured than he is with the mirage/mirazh discussion. Is Montgomery further making fun of the Stirlings here?)

(Second aside: when it rained on Valancy’s birthday, it just rained. The line is, “If it had not rained” – the rain is a force of nature. When it rains on the Sunday before the silver wedding, it is a “special mercy of Providence”, because we’re in Mrs. Fredrick’s head rather than Valancy’s or the narrative’s. Mrs. Stirling is the main character of her own life, so of course everything that happens around her is done on purpose by God for her benefit.)

They take Valancy to Aunt Alberta and Uncle Herbert’s silver wedding because it would “make talk” if they left her behind. They either don’t have the imagination to pretend that she’s ill – something that wouldn’t surprise anyone – or they know that the various uncles would be upset that they were not immediately informed of Valancy’s illness before hand.

“It was so important that Valancy should be kept in good humour, if possible, until it was over. Mrs. Frederick did not reflect that this was the first time in her life that she had thought it necessary to consider Valancy’s humours.”

Kind of sums up the entire relationship between Valancy and her mother right there, doesn’t it?

Roaring Abel appears! Roaring Abel who is absolutely poking fun at the Stirling women with his exaggerated courtesies.

““I cannot understand why the judgment of the Lord has not fallen upon that man long ere this,” said Mrs. Frederick petulantly, as if she thought Providence was very dilatory and ought to have a gentle reminder.”

Once again, Mrs. Fredrick believes that Providence operates at her beck and command. Which is especially stark in contrast to Abel and his Presbyterian belief in predestination.

Valancy, in taking control of her own life, has moved from feeling attacked and judged by everyone she sees to being able to find solidarity with people she sees. Before, she assumed Dr. Stalling could read her mind and the friends on Lover’s Lane were laughing at her. Now, she feels a kinship with Roaring Abel. She has not only stopped listening to her mother in practice, she has also evicted her mother’s voice from her inner monologue at last.

“By this time they had reached Maple Avenue and Uncle Herbert’s house, a large, pretentious structure peppered with meaningless bay windows and excrescent porches. A house that always looked like a stupid, prosperous, self-satisfied man with warts on his face.”

Just because Uncle Herbert and Aunt Alberta are nice doesn’t mean they aren’t Stirlings, which means they get an ugly house. And not just an ugly house, but one will with showy excess – meaningless windows and porches, that serve no purpose but to convey to passers by that the inhabitants can afford windows and porches.

Colors mentioned:

Brown silk dress

Allowed to wear white

Flame-red flag of revolt and protest [Bahorel Les Mis has entered the chat]

Valancy is not colorless by choice. Valancy is colorless specifically because her family has forbidden them to her. Aunt Isabel decreed that Valancy should never wear colors – she is who she is because they made her that way, not because of any inherent colorlessness of her own.

[totallyexhausted]

Would You Love Me Better if I Killed Someone for You...

Kazuki sighs as he walks through the door, his keys jingling against the lock as Miri pushes past excitedly. It’s late in the afternoon whish isn’t unusual for them to come home, but today- today was rough. Everything went wrong. The French toast had burned, Miri’s drop-off was late, the weather had changed from sunny to rainy despite the forecast, the store was out of almost everything needed for dinner, and Rei- well, Rei had been a dick pretty much all day.

Moody, Kazuki would say. Not unlike Rei, but that didn’t stop the 25-year-old from fighting Kazuki every step of the way. The older asked for help which he got- eventually- in a half-ass form of quiet grumbling and slow movements. Fold the laundry. Do the dishes. Vacuum. Help gather intel on their next mission. It wasn’t hard, and these were things Rei had been trying to improve over the past couple of weeks. But today- today, Rei just fought Kazuki the whole way.

Last night they’d gotten into an argument over dinner. Rei pushing his food around as Miri listed off all the exciting things she’d done in preschool that day. Playing games. Building a castle. Learning a new song. Gossiping about boys. The last one Kazuki didn’t appreciate but he let it go, assuming Anna-chan was the main culprit for “men are a mystery.”

Miri poked Rei in the ribs causing the younger man to flinch, turning towards her a few moments later, a questionable look plaster on tired features. She pointed a finger towards his plate, “You okay, Rei-Papa?”

Rei hummed before turning back towards his food, pushing a tomato around the white porcelain and resting his chin on his hand. Kazuki sighed, glancing over Rei’s features, trying to pinpoint something, anything. Truth was, Rei had been quiet all day- well, quieter than usual. He’d forgone playing his videogames halfway through the day, picking up a book that Kazuki had been reading, flipping through the pages before retreating to his room until the older had called him for dinner.

            Ever since he turned 25 a few days prior, Rei had backed off. Retreating more to isolation and distancing himself from conversations Kazuki had come to expect from the ladder over the past 3 years. He hadn’t discussed what his father had wanted, and Kazuki didn’t push him. He didn’t want to pry- but the past couple of days have been weighing heavily, if not on Rei’s shoulders, but Kazuki’s. Something had happened. Something that Kazuki couldn’t fix- that seemed to erase the progress over the past few years. And that pissed Kazuki off.

            Rei hummed again as Miri asked another question, and Kazuki bit his lip as more food was pushed around, chopsticks scraping against glass. Rei had barely touched his food. He’d barely touched anything over the past couple of days- food, drinks, video games- even jerking away from Miri’s wild hands, and Kazuki’s gentle fingers. The 28-year-old didn’t want to pry, he really didn’t, but over the past 3 years, Kazuki had come to know Rei well enough to know when something was wrong. And something was.

            Rei’s chopsticks faltered, and the fingers froze as he inhaled loudly before setting the wooden utensil against the plate gently. Miri reached over, asking if she could have something from Rei’s plate, and the younger man nodded slowly, his gaze still cast on the barely touched food. Kazuki exhaled loudly, “What’s your problem, huh?”

            The words left his mouth in a tense fashion Kazuki hadn’t know was there. He swallowed a few times as he closed his eyes, hoping they didn’t sound as harsh as they’d come across. He hadn’t meant to sound bitter- if anything he was more worried over the fact that Rei was mirroring his image from a few years ago than he was mad, but the words were twisted in his throat, dry against the concern he hoped plastered against his face. But that was how the argument had started. Kazuki’s question coming out harsher than intended, his concern turning sharp and accusatory. And Rei glaring towards him.

            The 25-year-old leaned forward slightly; his eyes unwavering as he met Kazuki’s gaze. He expression cold as he cleared his throat, “Right now, you’re my problem...”

            Needless to say, the argument had escalated and ended in Miri crying because her Papa’s were fighting. Kazuki had tried calming her, explaining they were just tired; and Rei had retreated to his room.

And that was the end of it. Until morning.

            Miri had insisted in filling the gaps of silence between Rei and Kazuki; her mindless chatter usually a comfort to Kazuki, but today- today it was just a reminder of the previous night. Of Rei snapping at him. Of Rei’s attitude… and the hellish idea that after Miri was dropped at preschool, Kazuki would have to spend the whole day with someone who just wanted to be left alone.

            The 28-year-old had tried, really, to leave Rei alone as it seemed the younger wasn’t in any better spirits than before. But it was laundry day, and most of the chores he had, had become easier over the past few weeks with Rei helping him out. Besides, Kazuki tried apologizing, and Rei tried accepting it, but his part of the housework was sloppy at best. And after refolding the laundry and vacuuming again, Kazuki had given up. Clearly whatever was wrong was something Rei would have to deal with on his own… the 28-year-old would have to just leave him alone until then.

But that was easier said than done… especially with a hyperactive 4-year-old.

(You can probably see where I'm going with this with Rei pushing people away because it's easier for him; his wrist getting infected from the other night with his fight; etc...) (These are just notes to a fic I'm writing so that's why it's piece-y lol)

...

“Your wrist,” Kazuki said softly, his fingers ghosting over the deep three-inch cut lining Rei’s forearm. The flesh was red and angry, enflamed and hot to the touch. Infected. The wound was infected.

            Kazuki’s mind wondered to a few nights ago when… Rei had been hurt then. Kazuki should have seen; should have looked him over… but Rei didn’t want to talk, and he was standing… so the thought of him being hurt, hadn’t really crossed the 28-year-old’s mind. Besides, if it was bad enough, Rei would have told him. He had learned from his mistake a year ago when Kazuki had taken him to the A&E before he bled to death in the shitty apartment bathroom. Blood smeared against the glass pane on the car window, Rei slumped against the door, his breathing heavy as his fingers tried gripping again at the open wound stabbed against his abdomen; and Kazuki cursed loudly as he reached over, his fingers grasping the younger’s shoulder to keep him awake…

            Rei groaned as Kazuki prodded the flesh harshly, pressing along the scabbed skin, his fingernail digging slightly under the scab, releasing bloody puss from the swollen area. He hummed softly as Rei flinched, his head lolling against the tub before smacking against the older man’s collarbone, and the 28-year-old tightened his grip over the younger’s shoulders protectively, pulling him closer so Rei was leaning against his chest.

            “Rei,” Kazuki murmured, his voice low and soft, “The wound on your wrist is infected.” You idiot.....

...

Rei coughed weakly, turning his head slightly so his forehead pressed against Kazuki’s collarbone, and the older let out a sigh of relief as the younger man shifted. Kazuki dipped the cloth in the water again, adjusting his grip, supporting more of Rei’s weight against his shoulder as he wrung the rag over the 25-year-old’s heated back slowly. Water splashing against scarred flesh, trailing down Rei’s back in sweaty lines, disappearing beneath stilled lukewarm water. Kazuki repeated the action several times, adjusting his grip each time the younger shifted before pressing the soaked material on the back of Rei’s neck.

            Kazuki swallowed slowly; his actions hesitant as he placed a hand over Rei’s bare back, rubbing his fingers against the tension knotted across his shoulder blades, and the younger man relaxed further against him. Something moved outside the door, and Kazuki glanced towards the door, a small smirk crossing his face as he saw Miri’s shadowed back pressed against the frosted glass door. She was worried, and she had every right to be. Probably upset too as Kazuki made her sit in the hallway instead of the bathroom with him and Rei as she demanded. But despite how much she wanted to help, she’d only get in the way at the moment.

            Rei groaned again, coughing roughly as he moved a hand through the water slowly until it connected with Kazuki’s bicep. His fingers gripping at the 28-year-old’s sleeve loosely, his hand shaking before trailing back down and smacking against the water. Kazuki removed the rag from his neck and dipped it in the water once more, wringing out the excess over the younger’s back again, his shoulders, his chest. He bit the inside of his cheek as he gently uncurled Rei’s grasp on him, cupping the back of his neck and positioning the 25-year-old so he was leaning against the end of the bathtub.

            Kazuki brushed some messy black strands away from Rei’s face, mopping against the sweat covering his pale face as the younger clenched his eyes further, curling in on himself, his head turning slightly.

            “Rei?” Kazuki whispered, “You with me?”

            At first, the 25-year-old didn’t respond, and Kazuki swallowed, combing Rei’s bangs away from his forehead so he could see him better. A few minutes passed, and Miri shifted outside the door, her back pressing harshly against the glass and the sound of several small objects dropping to the wooden floor, rolling away quietly. Kazuki tried again, “Rei?”

            He ran his thumb over the younger’s temple slowly, his fingers carded through thick messy tangles of black hair matted against heated flesh. Rei swallowed loudly before cracking his eyes open, his eyes searching for a second before landing on Kazuki leaning over the tub, his face a few inches from his. Kazuki smiled, “Hey. There he is.”

            Rei groaned again, making an effort to force his body up before strong hands forced him back down gently, and the younger complied. He cleared his throat, swallowing again as water washed over him slowly, and the 25-year-old flinched as something pressed against his forehead, cheek, neck… chest. He blinked slowly, focusing on Kazuki’s movements as the older wrung out another cloth, pressing against Rei’s neck and shoulders.

            Rei coughed again, confusion eating away at his features as he pushed his hand against Kazuki’s hovering over his chest. He gulped, his eyebrows drawing together as Kazuki met his gaze, his blonde hair momentarily covering his brown eyes, and the older man smiled softly, pausing as Rei’s heated fingers covered his.

            The 25-year-old glanced around sluggishly, trying to piece together what was happening. His mind was muddled and foggy… like he’d been drugged or he’d lost blood. Or something. Like something… His movements were weak and slow. And everything was hot. So fucking hot.

            Kazuki pressed the wet rag against Rei’s forehead gently, soaking the sweat rolling from his temple past flushed red set high on pale cheekbones. He untangled his other hand from Rei’s grasp and soaked another cloth, pressing firmly against the younger’s collarbone. The ladder made a small noise, and gripped tightly at Kazuki’s hand again, and the 28-year-old stopped.

            “No,” Rei breathed sharply, choking for a second as a dry cough made it’s way past his lips. His eyes fixed onto Kazuki’s as the older man held his gaze, making another attempt to move. Rei used his clasp on Kazuki to pull himself up somewhat, shoving his other hand against Kazuki’s chest harshly, preventing the ladder from moving closer to him. Kazuki faltered, wiggling his fingers, and Rei gripped tighter, his glare turning cold as he set his jaw, “No.”

            Kazuki swallowed, letting Rei clasp his fingers harder as he inched forward carefully. He exhaled lightly, a seriousness masking his features as he made sure to keep eye contact with the younger man. Rei’s features were alert- wrong, wild and fevered- but so very alert…

            “Rei,” Kazuki whispered cautiously, “Are you still with me?”

            Rei’s grip tightened, and Kazuki winced as fingernails dug into the skin on his hand, but he made no attempt to pull away. He tried again, “You’re sick. Your fever’s at 40.8, remember? I need to cool you off… Please.” Please, let me help you, you idiot…

            Kazuki held his breath, biting the inside of his cheek as Rei kept his grip, his eyes searching over the older man’s face tiredly, before his grip loosened slowly, his hand falling against the water with a loud smack. The expression on Rei’s face softened slightly as realization washed over him, and he swallowed as he flopped back, water splashing against the tiled floor as he let his head fall back against the tub.

            “Sorry, Kazu,” Rei said softly, closing his eyes against the lights hanging above him as he swallowed against the dryness in mouth. Kazuki smirked, “No worries. I was more concerned I’d have to fight you… that would be hard to explain to our daughter…”

            A small smile toyed with Rei’s lips as Kazuki’s words reached him. Our daughter. Our. They weren’t dating. Nor married. Nor even hinted at some form of romantic or physical relationship, and yet Kazuki always had the audacity to describe Miri as theirs… or ours. A stupid inclusion that Rei had grown quite fond of over the past few months… He’d never really been included before, nor had he ever gone out of his way to include others.

But Kazuki had always made an effort to get Rei’s opinion on things- not that the younger really cared either way when it came to decision making. He’d learned a long time ago; his opinion didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. He was a soldier. An asset. Nothing more and nothing less… the product of a loveless marriage and carefully selected breeding. He wasn’t a son. He wasn’t a person. No one claimed him. No one wanted him… until Kazuki wormed his way into Rei’s cold dark little world.

Truth was, at first, it’d been a stupid arrangement that the younger man had gone along with because it didn’t matter- he had planned on killing himself… or at least, getting killed in the field. At least that would have had more pride than the ladder. Thing is, Rei didn’t need a roommate, and Kazuki didn’t need a distraction. But Rei had stupidly taken a bullet for the older man, and Kazuki knew how to cook…

And Kazuki cared. For some ungodly reason, he cared. And that was weird. It made Rei uncomfortable. His emotions, his expressions; the way he made sure the younger man ate, bathed, and looked after himself. He changed things Rei hadn’t cared about. He bought furniture and games, and sat at the other end of the couch, talking, always fucking talking, about some nonsense that Rei ignored… and despite how much of himself Rei had tried to turn off; Kazuki just wouldn’t let him. Even on his bad days. Even when Rei stayed in his room or in the bathtub, curled up, his knees pressed against his chest as he fought to see through memories that haunted sleepless nights and stopped his lungs from taking in air. Kazuki was still there.

He wasn’t overbearing… well, most of the time, he wasn’t. When Rei was struggling, Kazuki would leave his door open, checking in on the other, making sure Rei knew that if he wanted to talk, he was there. But he didn’t pressure him… he didn’t pry. He didn’t ask about the scars littering his chest, back and arms; he didn’t force him to talk when Rei woke up screaming… or when he stayed up for nights on end because he couldn’t close his eyes.

He respected Rei’s boundaries, and very rarely crossed them because that’s just who Kazuki was. He was a good person who lived a horrible life, and yet, somehow, he hadn’t turned out completely fucked up the Rei was. He hadn’t turned out useless… But perhaps that’s why their arrangement remained. Kazuki needed someone to take care of, and Rei- Rei needed someone to take care of him. He wasn’t an invalid, he wasn’t weak… he just didn’t care if he lived or died. Indifference crept into his life a long time ago, and buried itself so far deep within Rei that it became a core part of who he was. Indifferent. And. So. Fucking. Useless.

...

I'm still writing.

[microwave-core]

Unravel

Geeta x Fem!Reader

Both you and Geeta are incredibly busy people, and so you have to cherish all of your time together. Even a simple car ride to a fancy restaurant can mean the world when spending it with someone you cherish.

A fancy dinner date was still just a dinner date, right? You’ve gone to obnoxiously expensive restaurants, the kind where you can barely pronounce anything on the menu, on several occasions, but you still always feel nervous when getting ready for them.

You’ve done and undone your makeup a few times, afraid that your lipstick might be a bit too smudged or your eyeliner was obviously uneven. You’ve wrestled with your hair to fix into the fanciest yet easiest style you could get away with. You’ve pulled out nearly half of your wardrobe just to find the perfect outfit. And you were doing it knowing it was an overreaction, but appearances are important to keep up, especially when you’re going out with La Primera.

Not to say that you were a completely unknown figure yourself. On the contrary. Being a professor means at least an entire region will know your face and your work. And unlike certain professors, one’s that just so happen to work for your dearly beloved wife, you make sure you're always presentable. 

An ironic thing, truly. Everyone seems to look up to professors like they’re incredibly professional and serious figures. But many, including yourself, tend to unravel behind closed doors. When your pristine lab coat is hung up, you’ll be sporting loose and comfy clothes. Not to mention that you’re all just a bunch of nerds in general.

(Lab coats themselves have always been a chore for you. You work with wild Pokemon on a daily basis, and so your clothes are bound to get ripped and dirtied. Not a month has gone by where you haven’t needed to buy a new one.)

Regardless, you spend an incredible amount of time looking as sleek and elegant as possible before walking out the door to meet with Geeta. She’s waiting for you in her own car out front. Typically she’ll send you a taxi to meet up with her, or she’ll be in said taxi to ride with you, but sometimes she opts to drive herself. She deals with countless people on a daily basis, sometimes she just needs a little time to herself, and sometimes she needs a little time with you alone. 

“There you are, tesoro, I thought you would never come out.”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting… I just wanted to look good for you.” Your statement, and the small laugh that followed, come out much more sheepish than intended.

“Nonsense, you could never keep me waiting for too long, especially if it means you’ll look so stunning.” Her smile is full of admiration, but she’s obviously tired. Undoubtedly, her day has been long, but she would never drop your date nights because of that, not when they already get canceled so often due to her busy schedule. 

“So… where are we going?”

“That would spoil the surprise, dear. You’ll see when we get there.”

“You say that like I would recognize the place to begin with...” She laughs.

You’ll never understand how people can look at Geeta and think she’s cold or brutal. She’s a hard worker, and she expects her employees (mainly the gym leaders) to work just as hard as her, but she’s no evil CEO trying to ruin the lives of those around her for her own gain. 

Geeta is the most supportive person in your life. She’s been there every step of the way, always there when you were going through school to become a professor. And while she often can’t be there physically, she’ll always be supporting you from afar, making sure your research is coming along well and making sure you have the most up-to-date equipment and keeping your closet full of fresh and clean lab coats. 

And when she thinks you're working too hard-an ironic statement coming from her-she’ll make you appointments at the local spa and send you gifts to help you unwind after a long day. And when you complain about her hypocrisy, making sure you don’t strain yourself because of work while never taking breaks herself, she’ll simply tell you that your relaxation alone gives her peace of mind.

You're brought back to reality when you hear your name rolling off her tongue. You weren’t even aware that you spaced out to begin with.

“You seem lost in thought. What ever could be distracting you?”

“You, actually.”

“Why aren’t you sweet? And here I was thinking about work.”

“Come on, Geeta. I thought we agreed to not think about work on dates.”

“Oh, trust me, tesoro. I don’t want to be thinking about it.” Her tone is suddenly bitter. Geeta is always careful with her public appearance. She has to be. But if allowed to openly complain, without filters, she will not hold back.

“Aww, bad day? We can stay at home if you're not feeling up to tonight.”

“No, no. There is no need for that. I simply wish that my… co-workers were better at their jobs.” She’s holding herself back, obviously. She takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It’s just… have you seen my receptionist?”

“Rika, right?”

“Yes. Her. She is strong and takes her job as an Elite four member seriously, more so than most, but when it comes to business... My emails are not getting forwarded.” Her voice doesn’t raise, but her tone is agitated. “I appreciate the work she does for the elite four, of course and-roll you window up, would you?- but what I would give, Arceus above, for her to take her other work as seriously.”

“I’m guessing she’s not the only one getting on your nerves…”

“Oh, don’t get me started. Don’t think I’m ungrateful for them, quite the opposite. I believe all of them, both elite four and gym leaders, are incredibly talented and do their best to guide young trainers  to the top, but that doesn’t mean I do not have gripes with them at times.” Her grip on the steering wheel tightens as she goes on, but begins to lessen as a smile graces her face, as her shoulders relax.

“Yes, but it was not all bad. After all, I had some free time today and went ahead and got you a cute little number. It should be there by the time we get back home. Some may think it is unbecoming of someone of my stature to be searching for such things during working hours, but I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh? And what, may I ask, did you get?”

“Ah, ah, ah. I can’t spoil your surprise, now can I?”

You both know what she’s talking about, and you both know that nothing will come of it for a while. While you are incredibly grateful to get to go out still, considering that many married couples never seem to find the time to do so, you know that it is more of an intermission more than anything. When you get back from dinner, you’ll go back to work for at least a few more hours.

And neither of you are against it, because this time you’ll be basking in each other’s presence. Geeta will finish up her paperwork after getting to unwind, having gone through countless meetings and been up on her feet for an uncomfortable amount of time, and you’ll complete your lab reports, the ones that you started nearly a week ago now,

But dinner comes first. And once that’s finished, you’ll have a wonderful little surprise waiting for you.

[keefwho]

June 07 - 2023 Wednesday

7:55 AM

I read all my journal entries like I said. It’s hard to not cringe at them because I don’t like observing myself. But I intend to get used to doing it. I want to be able to behold myself without feeling weird about it. 

10:43 PM

This morning while making breakfast I read one of the beginning chapters of my ACT book. One thing stuck out to me, how it said suppressing feelings could make you become distant from your past. That fits what I’ve been experiencing so that was interesting. Breakfast was eggs, corned beef hash, and toast again. I got to stream on time today and finished up another sketch sheet. As usual I started today’s commission fearful that I would do a bad job but also as usual it turned out okay. I even only went for 90 minutes because of how quickly I went and intended to use the missing 30 minutes for personal work later. I did my workout which was a 3 mile walk on the treadmill. In the past I went for 45 minutes but I thought it would be better to aim for a distance goal. I should also be able to do 3 miles in 45 minutes if I’m going relatively fast so it forces me to push myself a little. I got it done in maybe 50 minutes so I was close. I really pushed through it today because my legs were sore before I even started and I didn’t feel like I was gonna make it. For lunch I made spaghetti and had a couple oreos. I hung out in David’s server again while I did 570rm’s request and tried tidying up my Patreon and planning how to tie in my VR work. I also worked on this gloryhole pic and get a bit stuck figuring out the colors and cum dynamics. I played Zelda for a little bit and beat the Hebra labyrinth before watching another MLP gen 5 episode with Daisy. The show has improved drastically in terms of character dynamics and animation. I’m started to REALLY enjoy it now. Even the youtube shorts have gotten better. It’s making it exciting to draw MLP art again. And given how well my Izzy pic did, it would be good for business. Daisy and I hopped into VR tonight after ponies. As much as I enjoy finding other people to hang around with when we world hop, I was happy that tonight it ended up just being us. I cherish the one on one time and wish there was more of it. But not too much, I understand the need to invite others in. Dinner was chicken, fries, and carrots while I played some Shipbreaker and chatted with Daisy. When she fell asleep I started working on the next letter a little bit and re-read most of the ACT chapter on Defusion. I should have read it earlier in the day so I could practice it but I will attempt to do it tomorrow along with the self chapter. 

Overall I felt good today. I grew tired of my negative thoughts and unintentionally defused from them. Today I felt hopeful and had a better sense of direction like I know what actions to take. Some of the things I dream of also seemed tangible, like feeling included and wanted, or becoming more independent by getting my driver’s license. To work on that I’m making a new rule I know will be hard to enforce: anything I want, I have to get it myself. I intend to have one of my parents take me to the store when I need something, and to pick up my groceries with them once a month. It will be hard but it must be done. The reason I’ve been slacking with getting out is because of how easy it is to blow something off as being too easy or more convenient if I let my parents get it. I can’t make any more excuses. This rule of mine has to be set in stone. 

I talked briefly to mom about this household’s future. She said someone wants to buy the house for market price and that they could be moving out of here within 2 years. If they did, they would be going to live next to my uncles in North Carolina on 3 acres of land he has free. They want to put a modular home on it and something like a trailer for me if I want. Given how the housing market is and how unlikely it will be that I can stand fully on my own, I will likely go with them in this scenario. Not that it’s a bad thing really. I would be closer to most people I know or have known which means I’ll be closer to people I have yet to meet too. I did think of a hilariously terrible scenario where I end up moving to the east coast and Daisy moves out went somewhere for school when the time comes. That would be some rancid luck right there. 

[kariachi]

I have a commission! Which means research which means notes which in this case means liveblogs!

Got one Batman:TAS episode to go through and a few Static Shock ones, so we’re starting with Batman because that’s the property I have the least experience with and will need to percolate in my little brain longer.

~~

How the fuck do the cops in Gotham have a goddamn dirigible for this opener? Are helicopters too loud for the Gotham aesthetic, what the hell?

Actually, actual show time. We’re doing ‘Moon of the Wolf’.

Zoo security guard wandering around with what I have to assume is the most unassuming guard dog on the face of the earth (seriously, is that a fucking labrador?), dog starts growling, man’s immediate response is ‘what is wrong with this dog’ like dude this is your job

I’m thinking if your guard dog is looking to lunge at a jogger going by you need to invest in a new guard dog. I mean we know better as the audience, there’s trouble afoot and the jogger is just wrong place and time, but these fuckers don’t and that should be a red flag.

Welp, that is certainly a werewolf. Very typical ‘big, furry, mannish wolf’ design. The glowy green eyes are a nice touch, and the long pointed ears. I specifically need to note these things because there’s going to be contrast between types of werewolf in this piece and yeah, this is pretty far from my werewolf design from my last SS piece which was more of a ‘wolf stretched over a human framework’ sorta deal. Think I’ll be able to get some good interplay.

No tail, can’t remember if I gave Richie a tail but that’s for the reread I’ll be doing as part of my non-episode research so, just good to note.

Got a bit of a bat-ish look from the angle I’m paused at, with all the teeth seemingly at the front of the mouth and the big ears, the hunched posture. Let’s see if they go anywhere with this...

That dog was here to fight a werewolf right up until he got launched like 30 ft due south. Like ‘yeah fuck the human I’m out‘

I can’t be sure but it looks like this fucker has a sort’ve vaguely ape gait, with the long forelimbs being used in locomotion but it a distinctly ‘I’m not technically a quadruped’ manner...

“No! Stay back! Keep away from me!” Sir what were you expecting that to accomplish? It’s a fucking werewolf.

Batman shows up to fight the werewolf and the look on this thing’s face before he gets kicked in it, like “I’m not here to fight, I just wanna eat a security guard, why can’t I just live my life?”

Also will somebody get this fucker a napkin, drooling all over the place

Yeah, that’s definitely a gorilla-inspired gait, the bat sorta look, still very world with the full werewolf mane, is a nice design

This fucker really just chucked an unconscious man into a river to get him out from underfoot. And Batman immediately dives in to save the guy from drowning, because he does have at least one moral.

Werewolf watches this happen and just leaves. “Well if you’re just gonna fuck off then so will I, so there“

Okay I like this bit right here, Batman having to read a guy’s nametag and being audibly unsure about the whole thing as he addresses him. That’s just fun to see from Mr Always On Top Of Things

“You’re a very lucky fella” Bruce his dog abandoned him, he was attacked by a werewolf, he almost drowned

Bruce, we do not interrupt people, which yes I know a cop is not a people but you seem to think they are so the point still stands. Let Gordon make his call then address him, it’s not like you’re that worried about the werewolf getting somebody else tonight or you’d be tracking it down right now.

“-a mugger in a werewolf mask” Oh Bruce you are in for a week. Also you don’t know it was a mugging. Looking at it even from your limited perspective I’d assume it was a much more serious act you were interrupting. Most muggers don’t knock fuckers unconscious and then pick them up, pick their pockets yeah but that’s like, kidnapping or murder territory. Especially given he then threw the fucker in the river, that does not sound like ‘he’s just a mugger’ to me.

Somebody stole a pair of timber wolves from the zoo. A breeding pair from the looks of it. Looks like either a pair of northern Rocky Mountain wolves or just the largest timber wolves ever born. Honestly just the largest timber wolves ever born either way given the male’s supposedly 175 lbs and the Rocky Mountain ones get up to 150. Female’s 148 and described as ‘medium’ sized. Ya know what, I’m just gonna say these are Dakota timber wolves, because I already write Dakota as being fucking weird.

(Actually have some Dakota-centric ideas in the head which is not good for a week with a commission but who knows, maybe shit’ll get worked in or maybe I’ll just write the Dakota shit later)

Wait no they straight up call then Alaskan timber wolves which makes even less sense because that subspecies only reaches about 100 lbs. So yeah, for the purposes of Achi Writings these are Dakota timber wolves. They’re listed as Alaskan because somebody was defrauding the zoo.

Batman notices he’s covered in fur, waves off his consideration noises with a “just had a disturbing thought, that’s all“. Guys I think Batman thinks somebody made a werewolf suit out the stolen wolves. I mean I doubt he thinks it’s an actual werewolf, though I’m open to being proven wrong.

*gasp* He does think it’s an actual werewolf! I don’t know why he jumped to that conclusion besides “you know what, it’s Gotham, this may as well happen”, but that applies to the ‘somebody stole a pair of wolves, skinned them, turned them into a werewolf costume, and it wearing it while they attack zoo staff’ concept so...

Watch, it turns out I’m right, those are Dakota wolves, Batman’s heard rumors about it and is just like “you know what, I wouldn’t be surprised-”

Batman really dropped the ‘what if he wasn’t wearing a mask’ bombshell and just immediately jumps out the window before Gordon can ask him if he’s finally completely lost his mind.

Ya know I was gonna be concerned for this presumably night watchman but now that I’ve seen his haircut, yeah just eat him

This werewolf is really tearing down a small building to get at this guy. Like I don’t blame you, his hair’s atrocious, but still.

Ah, okay, the man is I presume working with the werewolf. Why you would work with someone with hair like that I don’t know, maybe being a werewolf fucks with your sense of taste.

The transformation is quick but painful, it appears. Also has a timelimit for how long the fucker is wolf, it looks like. Yeah, I don’t think that’ll quite apply for the majority of fic purposes but for early stuff it’s important to know.

Mr Bad Hair, why the fuck did you have a werewolf committing a hit on a security guard? It’s Gotham, you couldn’t have just given some fucking street urchin a quarter to put a bullet in him?

Also it was a fucking murder attempt I was right, though not for the reasons I thought. Up yours, Bat, I’ve outdone ya

I would like to congratulate amateur photographer Bruce Timm for getting a rare photo of Batman in action, getting it in the paper, and being properly credited.

Sir, what is your damage?

‘Anthony Romulus’, gee, I wonder who the werewolf is.

(I do have thoughts in my head of some potential joking around between Virgil and Richie about how on-the-nose the names in places like Gotham are. No promises it’ll get into the work but the idea of Virgil joking about Batman’s real name being Vlad is just too good.)

Werewolf pledging millions to charity in exchange for a Batman encounter. Was already pledging a million just because (*cough*taxbreaks*cough*). Which honestly is better than most rich fucks, but still doesn’t earn him points until I find out how much he’s worth. The richer you are the bigger chunk I expect from you if you’re going to earn any sort’ve points for this shit. Also the charity isn’t given or even described it’s just ‘a local charity’ like dude come on.

Oh my god. I think I’m seeing why this guy is working with Mr Bad Hair. Fucker looks like Ruber from Quest for Camelot! Seriously! His great-something grandson running around getting turned into a werewolf, which honestly seems like something Ruber would approve of.

Man straight up admits he is donating money for tax purposes. Though he’s also talking to Bruce “yeah I’ve got more money than god but I donate it to charities tied to my family” Wayne so... Let’s see if we get any commentary. Come on Bruce.

Ah so he has decided on a charity, the Gotham United Fund. I was concerned maybe he intended to have them fight to the death for the 2.5 million.

Bruce doesn’t look best impressed but also isn’t saying anything. Come on Bruce, use your words. And who’s this chick they’re working out with, do you have a name, miss? You seem nice as one can expect from what I assume is another rich fuck, I don’t wanna have to call you by a silly alias if there’s another option.

No name for Miss Lady so I’ll just be calling her that until I get one.

Bruce is watching a documentary on Alaskan timber wolves. That won’t help, Bruce, they’re clearly from Dakota.

Meanwhile Alfred’s back there fixing up the Batmobile.

Bruce just shuts off the documentary partway through. There could be valuable information in there.

“The hairs check out as genuine wolf hair, but it could just mean shaggy was wearing an extremely fancy mask“ Sir, sir how fancy do you think werewolf masks get? Or are you coming to the ‘he might have skinned the stolen wolves’ theory because it is still very much there for you and very Gotham.

A dozen directions, what directions Bruce? We’ve seen one. Give us at least another.

Bruce being rude to his not-dad. Alfred raised you better than to not say thank you damnit.

Does Ruber II really have a little mini parthenon as a wing of his house? Seriously? Dude tone it the fuck down.

Swear to god it’s like if Ruber’s line bred with the Morningstars...

This man really locking Batman in his house and hitting panic buttons like, sir you know if Batman vanishes people are gonna look at you. And heavens forbid they find wolf hair because the police already have shit going.

‘I’m a busy bat, places to be, crimes to foil, you know how it is’

Batman sitting here fucking sweating, like sir, sir have you noticed you’re locked in? I hope so because otherwise you’re sweating over somebody writing out a check to charity.

Hold up I gotta check something- This motherfucker writing out a check for 2.4 million when he said 2.5, I know he’s probably not intending for it to leave the room but still. Principal of the matter.

Ah, the button did not just double lock everything it also fucked up the air or something. Werewolves are immune to gassing apparently. Wonder if it’s a specific gas or if they like, can’t be put under anesthetic and shit

Okay the werewolf I can get being immune to whatever gas is being used but wtf is up with you Bad Hair?

Milo. Bad Hair’s name is Milo. Honestly I’m tempted to use it because that’s somehow worse, but I don’t respect him enough for that.

Oh, having some regrets Ruber II? Gassing the hero of Gotham after trying to murder some random schmuck?  Luring him in with a promise of millions to charity? No, wait, can’t be that you were talking about tax havens earlier.

Didn’t even bother with the mask, just took off the belt and chained him down as werewolf chow

Serious, what is Bad Hair’s deal? What is his motivation here?

Did you feel this torn up over killing Hamner, Ruber II? Or is ‘supercide’ where you draw the line?

Bad Hair holding a cure to werewolfism over Ruber II’s head. Like, dude you have enough money you know you can just lock yourself away during the full moon or whatever? If you can promise 2.5 mil to charity and are hanging out with Bruce Wayne odds are you can afford to set up a nice little space to spend your wolfy-time in. Talk to Bruce, he’s supposedly a nice guy, would help you find a cure that you don’t have to murder people for.

Remember kiddos, communication is key.

Flashback time

Man really said ‘I want to win so bad I’m gonna go to a mad scientist with the worst hair imaginable and take experimental drugs from him’.

Timber wolf steroids and estrogen. I’ve heard people call werewolves gender goals but this is taking it a bit far.

Ruber II deserves this shit, worse than his grandpa. At least that fucker tested shit on a chicken.

Bad Hair really was plotting werewolf-brand extortion from the start. Why, still no fucking clue

Got turned into a werewolf and still was only marginally better than the competition.

Ah, rich fuck bullshit. As in fucks becoming rich, apparently.

Man threw Bad Hair down a flight of stairs- objectively the right move- for the audacity of expecting payment- I know this is probably supposed to be ‘the werewolfness changed him’ but he’s a rich fuck so come on

Yeah, no way this man earned fame and fortune and won and Olympic class event all in under a month. Man was already rich and just got richer I promise you this.

Please tell me this man did not hear Bad Hair go “I can’t reverse the process but I can complete it“ and decided he would rather be all wolfy rather than like 15% wolfy.

Ruber II please tell me you are not surprised to find out the weird wolf shit turned you into a werewolf while you are standing there covered in fur and with sharp teeth and claws and pointy ears.

Man claims advanced werewolfism can be cured and this fuck just rolls with it again. Takes longer to decide but still just fucking rolls with it. Like, sir please. At least take a week to think on it, you may find out you like this shit.

End flashback

At least make him prove it is an antidote rather than just like, some super lycanthropy potion.

Oh look, it’s Hamner again. Hey dude. We gonna find out why people want you dead?

Okay is this another flashback or did somebody return the wolves? Also those are definitely not normal wolves.

Oh look, a cop. Hi cop. Do me a favor and look after this guy, I like him out of spite.

Why am I not surprised to find a Gotham City cop is going immediately to police brutality and threats of murder in the dead of night against a suspect. Why did I even dare to hope for a brief instant that maybe this show was trying to not pull that shit so much.

I know Officer Ass isn’t gonna get eaten or his head caved in but damnit I can dream. In fact I can make it happen. I am writer hear me roar. Officer Harvey Bullock, I’ve got your number

So Hamner took a couple grand in exchange for letting the wolves get stolen and then apparently returned and presumably was being killed as a witness.

You really gonna get pissed when the guy says for all he know the dude who paid him coulda been you? When you were just threatening to feed him to wolves for the crime of letting the wolves be briefly stolen? Yeah Officer Ass gets to die. Probably not on screen ‘cause I got thoughts in my head, but he’s getting eaten by a werewolf.

Come on, eat Bad hair

‘I’m going to taunt this werewolf and then stand there with the antidote in my head talking shit as he transforms- No wait, why are you attacking me?’

Bad Hair just because a shed dropped on him doesn’t mean you don’t wanna run

Bruce got himself free because of course, just before being attacked. Bad Hair, meanwhile, is pretending to be dead.

Cops in this city just assholes who can’t follow direction

Struck by lightning and fallen into the fucking river, what a way to get taken out.

Okay, so Bad Hair is alive and being taken to hospital, what about our fluff Ruber II?

“No trace of wolfie, we checked the shoreline for miles. But it four weeks there’s another full moon, then we’ll know for sure.” I’m- I’m sorry are they not even going to look for a body? Because it really sounds like the position here is ‘either this guy is alive and will attack in another month at which point we’ll handle it, or he’s dead in the river in which case fuck him our job is done’. Like, who sees somebody get struck by lightning, fall into a river and then just checks the shoreline for them? Even a monster, you’d at least want to trawl up the corpse!

It’s nice to have confirmation he’s not dead there at the end, but still. Nothing about Bruce’s reaction, I mean they knew each other? And we’re just gonna leave the PD being, that?

Officer Ass has to go. Other than that, I think I can play around with some shit here.

[i-am-distressed]

JJK Boys getting accidentally flashed by their Girlfriend

Characters: Megumi, Itadori, Yuta, Noritoshi, Nanami, Toji, Naoya, Geto, Gojo, and Sukuna

Warnings: Implied 'nudity' cause, y'know, getting flashed. Naoya + Sukuna, Yuta’s turned out very detailed and warning for his cause curses are gross, mentions of injuries/implied blood, Noritoshi’s is eXTREMEly self-indulgent, allusion to sex in Toji’s and Sukuna’s but nothing explicit or suggestive (obviously), you guys are married in Toji’s, Naoya’s and Sukuna’s. Kids in Naoya’s, cursing in Sukuna's but I 'censored' it :)

**I write Naoya and Sukuna with some necessary changes, please hold your judgement☺ These are long but give it a chance-**

Fushiguro Megumi:

Due to his job as a student/Jujutsu Sorcerer, Megumi was usually pretty tired when you guys got to hang out.

So, the first thing you guys typically did when you met up after school was nap for a good hour or two.

Which worked out well for both of you since he finally got some rest and you got cuddles and a chance to play with his hair.

On this particular afternoon, Megumi had basically crashed the minute he hit the bed, you not far behind to lay on his chest while he zonked out on his back.

It had been just about 2 hours when he woke up, one hand going up to rub his eyes while his other arm wrapped around you to hold you tight.

You smiled when you felt him moving, turning ever so slightly to give him a small peck on his shoulder.

He smiled and turned to look at you, only to see that while he was sleeping you had changed into a loose tank top. A loose tank top that had...shifted, to give your boyfriend a view you had not intended to give him.

He was so flustered he didn’t realize how red the tips of his ears had gotten and how wide his eyes had gotten, not to mention the fact he hadn’t said a word.

Thinking he had fallen back asleep, you looked up only to see your boyfriend seemingly stuck in time as he looked at something.

Following his gaze you gasped, rushing to fix your shirt.

That seemed to snap Megumi out of his daze, that and your non-menacing ‘pervert’ you muttered, it’s not like you really cared (you were more embarrassed than anything) but the opportunity to tease was much too good to pass up.

“I- hEy! It wasn’t on purpose! You’re the one that flashed me…”

“I don’t know Megumi...you were awfully quiet for awhile there, didn’t even warn me😔”

You may or may not have gotten hit with a pillow following that remark.

Itadori Yuji:

You and your boyfriend Yuji were celebrating your two year anniversary, and this year you had both decided on going to an amusement park!

It was a pretty hot day, and you’d be walking a lot so you decided on a cute loose t-shirt and shorts and some walking shoes.

You guys had just gotten on this rollercoaster, and from the looks of it this one was going to be fast.

The ticking as you went up the first and very tall hill did nothing to quell the excitement/fear you were feeling, and it also did nothing to keep you from taking your boyfriends hand in yours.

After that first drop, it wasn’t too bad! But it was definitely on the faster side.

You guys were almost done, the end was in sight.

You turned to ask Yuji what ride you should do next when one sharp turn caught you off guard and flipped your shirt up into your face.

Right when Yuji had just so happened to have turned to talk to you.

Trying to ignore the utter shame you felt you tried to fix your shirt, your boyfriend then leaned over you to stop anyone from getting a peak as the car pulled back to the start.

You felt so embarrassed after it, but when you tried to apologize he just shook his head, gave you a kiss on your cheek and grabbed your hand to drag you off to the next ride.

Okkotsu Yuta:

**Unlike the others, this happened before the two of you started dating, you were still just really good friends**

You and Yuta had been sent out on a mission together.

You were a little nervous since it would be your first time going against a special grade, but you were confident you’d be able to do your part. Plus, having Yuta there was helpful in more ways than just his power.

The fight was a tough one, this curse you guys were fighting kept breaking the ground and shooting debris everywhere, it was easily blockable and it really wasn’t that dangerous.

But it did prove irritating.

Along with making tears everywhere in your jacket and skirt, you had been left with no choice but to kill the curse when it was up close and personal, so you were also covered in gross stuff.

To keep yourself from throwing up then and there, you unbuttoned your top and shrugged it off your shoulders, wincing at the cuts that had amassed during the fight.

You planned to quickly exchange it with the spare you kept in your bag, the debris had caused a bunch of dust which was acting like a curtain to shield your half-naked self from the eyes of the world.

But most importantly, from the eyes of your crush.

Unfortunately for you, your bag had gotten caught under a somewhat heavy piece of concrete.

Which would be no problem for you to lift if you hadn’t run through a fair amount of your cursed energy.

In your exhaustion, you must have made your struggle known with the grunts and obvious sounds of struggle you were making.

Yuta, who had a radar for you on anyway, heard this and started making his way over to you since he’s a considerate lad and you could be hurt!

You had just gotten it off the ground when it finally shifted enough for you to get your bag out, and you, being ever so coordinated, stumbled backwards.

Right into the open arms of Yuta, who immediately went red when he realized you were no longer wearing a shirt.

His jaw dropped as he tried to form a sentence, say something, anything to make sure you knew it was an accident.

Poor guy was so scared you thought he was a creep, he couldn’t look you in the eyes for almost 3 days.

That is until Maki locked you both in a room until one of you confessed💖

Kamo Noritoshi:

(This one may or may not be self-indulgent since I’m a clutz-)

You and Noritoshi had been sent to get something from the principal’s office by Utahime.

You were walking in front of him, paying little to no attention as to where you were walking as Noritoshi lost years off his life watching you stumble and almost trip.

So, okay, maybe you were a little bit clumsy, so what?

“Y/n, would you please be more careful? You’re going to fall.”

You turned your head to look at your boyfriend with an unimpressed look on your face, continuing to walk as he was even more on edge now that you definitely weren’t looking where you were going.

“Have a little faith in me, would you? I’m not that clumsy-” Just then, your foot caught a root perfectly, resulting in an untimely fall to the ground.

Which, thanks to years of falling face-first, you were more than prepared for.

Noritoshi, who felt his heart stop, quickly went to aid you, only to realize that your skirt had shifted with your fall, leaving you partly exposed to the world.

Partly exposed to him.

He quickly made his way to your side, helping you up as you laughed and dusted yourself off, noting the quietness of your boyfriend.

Usually when this happened, and he was quiet, you’d be in for a lecture.

But this time you noticed he was quiet...but he was also blushing.

You guys continued walking, you definitely weren’t complaining about not being told off, but you weren’t a fan of his silence. And...since when did Mr. Blood manipulation blush…?

“No lecture today?”

Noritoshi, who had been very deep in thought almost jumped at your voice, huffing as he tilted his head downward and picked up his pace a little.

“No tights today?”

You stopped at that because...he typically didn’t care what you wore, he was actually pretty laid-back except when it came to your safety.

“It’s August...so no?”

“Then i’d recommend you be a little more careful, had it been somebody else walking behind you, they would have seen something they shouldn’t have.” Your eyes narrowed at his words because...what was he talking about??

Sensing your confusion he turned towards you, eyes cracked open and a small smirk on his face. Leaning in close, he whispered.

“When you fell, your skirt lifted.”

And proceeded to walk ahead and into the principal’s office, leaving you in a whirlwind of emotions with no idea how to process them.

Nanami Kento:

You were over at Nanami’s place, in his kitchen cooking dinner with him.

You guys didn’t get to have dates often, but thankfully you guys both had tonight free. And seeing as you both have been busy, a home-date sounded nice to both of you.

Nanami was working on opening a bottle of wine while you were fiddling with the stove top.

Nanami had recently moved into this apartment, and it was really nice. But the oven was much different from yours, so it was taking awhile for you to get used to it.

You had finally gotten it on and you put the frying pan on the burner to heat up.

You turned your back to it and leaned against the nearby counter, appreciating the view you had of your boyfriend’s back and biceps.

It was safe to say you were distracted.

So distracted, that you didn’t notice that the shirt you were wearing had been just close enough to the burner that it had caught on fire.

You felt your hip getting a little warm, so you looked down and gasped when you saw that you were literally catching on fire.

You scrambled to rip the shirt off you, throwing it in the thankfully empty sink as you turned the water on, successfully avoiding a major problem and any serious injuries.

Shaking your head, you turned to your lover with an apology ready on your lips, only when you met his eyes, he quickly turned around.

Clearing his throat, he returned to his previous task of cutting the vegetables while he instead nodded his head towards his room.

“You can wear one of my shirts, they’re in the second drawer.” You nodded and made your way into his room, shaking your head to try and rid yourself from any further embarrassment and cool down your overheating face and neck.

Little did you know, Nanami was trying to cool down the burning red on his own face, as well as trying to focus on the vegetables.

Fushiguro Toji:

**In this you two are married and you’re Megumi’s momma**

You guys had recently adopted a cat from a nearby shelter, Toji didn’t want a cat, but between the puppy eyes of not only his young son but his wife, he was never walking out of the shelter without one.

Only, you didn’t walk out with one, since the cat Megumi chose was a female, and pregnant.

So now you guys have 4 cats.

Your kittens were older now, just about 4 months. So you and Megumi would let them out during the day (supervised and with their momma of course) and bring them back in at night. Toji didn’t really care what you did with them since they made you both happy (and it kept you both occupied-).

Toji had come home from a particularly grueling day at work, his shoulders were stiff and he had a small headache, and all he really wanted was to drag you to the bed so he could sleep on top of you while you ran your fingers through his hair and he could finally get some decent sleep.

Does he get that? No.

What he does get is you and Megumi yelling up the tree in front of your house for “Cat! Come down from the tree!” ‘Cat’ was the name of the kitten you and Megumi had forced Toji to name since ‘he had to have one too’, even though it was really just so he had no choice but to let you two keep them all.

Sighing he walked over to you both, ruffling Megumi’s hair and giving you a kiss before he stuck his hands in his pockets and asked the question he didn’t want, or need, the answer to.

“*sigh* what happened?”

Frowning, you looked back to the tree and pointed, revealing the small kitten who had managed to get herself, or himself he couldn’t remember, stuck on one of the lower branches.

“Well, he’ll come down eventually.”

You smacked his arm as Megumi’s eyebrows pinched together, little arms crossing in front of his chest, “It’s a she, daddy. And she’s just a baby! You have to get her down!”

Groaning he brought a hand up to rub his eyes, “There’s no way i’m getting up that tree, I’m way too big, and daddy’s tired”

Pouting, Megumi stood in front of his dad (Let’s say Megumi is 3~), little hands tugging on his pants leg, a little “please daddy?” coming from his trembling lips.

“No, daddy’s right, he’s too old to get in the tree,” You smirked at the glare you got from your husband, “But, if daddy helps me, I can get in the tree.”

So, that’s how you ended up in a tree, gently handing ‘Cat’ down to your husband, who quickly passed her down to Megumi, and found yourself struggling to get down.

You and Megumi had been out and about earlier, and you were wearing a comfortable dress that day, so being in a tree was less than ideal.

With the promise of Toji catching you, you jumped, not expecting the wind to carry your dress, and unintentionally giving your husband a show. Luckily, your son was much more interested in the kitten.

You felt your face heat up as you quickly fixed your dress, your husband just laughed with a ‘nothin’ I haven’t seen before babe’ which was quickly followed by an ‘ow!’ when you smacked him. </3

Zen'in Naoya:

You and Naoya were preparing to have dinner together.

He was sat at the table, finishing up some paperwork while you finished up the food.

Your 2 children, your 5 year old son and 3 year old daughter, were also sat at the table. Your children both telling their father about their days while he listened. (I know he’s literally awful, but if I can pretend Toji isn’t an awful father, I can pretend Naoya isn’t an awful person✌😌)

“And then, Momma told the guy off! It was awesome daddy!” Naoya raised his eyebrow with the smallest hint of a smile tugging the corner of his lip up. “Oh? Did he start crying too?” You gave your husband ‘a look’ while you walked to the table, setting the first dish down on the table before you turned to get another.

Your son giggled, “Like a baby!” Naoya chuckled, shaking his head as he took a sip of water.

He couldn’t help but think back to your younger days, specifically the day the two of you met when you told him off, the day you changed him, and finally the day you made him cry as you walked towards him down the aisle.

“I bet, Your mother has a habit of making men cry.” You sternly called his name from the kitchen as he snickered, your kids breaking out into their own fits of giggles.

You walked back into the dining room carrying in the last dish, shaking your head as you lightly bumped him with your hip as you passed him, him lightly patting your butt as you walked by. “Stop feeding my kids lies.”

He just smirked as he lifted his glass to his lips, he was in the middle of taking a sip when you bent down to place the dish on the table, your shirt dipping low to the point your chest was on show, giving your husband an, albeit welcome, unintentional view.

Choking on his drink, he set the cup down in favor of beating his chest with his fist, you coming over to rub his back, your children looking over in confusion cause...what the heck dad, that was weird.

“What happened? Do I need to get you a sippy cup?” Glaring at you he was finally able to stop coughing, you patting his back as you went back to your seat and sat down.

You raised an eyebrow at him, since he had still yet to tell you why he had suddenly choked on his water. But it was then you noticed just how red his face was, and how low his gaze was.

Looking down and realizing your shirt had drifted down, you fixed it and smirked, struggling to hold in the laughs and snorts that were sure to explode out of you.

Even after almost a decade of marriage, it was good to know you could still make your husband blush like a teenage boy.

Geto Suguru:

You and Geto had gone out on a date!

It was a nicer place, so you were wearing a cute spaghetti strapped dress with some nice shoes, and he was wearing a button down with slacks (sleeves rolled up to his forearms of course🥵).

You had just finished dinner and were now on the walk home.

All night you had been paranoid about your dress, you had gotten it when you and a friend had gone thrift shopping. It was honestly in pretty good condition, the only problem was that the dress’ straps had a good amount of wear on them, so the straps weren’t really that great, and you could feel them loosening as the night went on.

BUT, you were going home now, so it really didn’t matter much anymore.

Geto was lightly swinging your hands between you both as you told him the recent drama you had learned at work.

You were holding your uncomfortable shoes in one hand, and obviously Geto’s hand in the other, so your hands were occupied.

“You would not believe how messy that got. In case you ever think about cheating on me, just remember that man’s gonna be finding glitter in his car for at least a few decades.” Geto laughed as he shook his head, nudging your shoulder with his, “Good thing we don’t have to worry about that, I’m not dumb enough to cheat on my crazy girlfriend.” You made a ‘hmph’ sound and nodded, “Crazy for you~” and laughed when he shook his head.

You guys kept walking, discussing whatever topics came up.

You were almost home, so close to freedom. You called Geto’s name, about to tell him something you had remembered, when you both heard a faint *snap*.

Guided by the rush of cold air you felt hit your chest, you looked down and gasped, you would’ve been quicker to cover yourself except for the fact that both of your hands were occupied.

Working quickly because...you both were still in public, Geto let go of your hand and shrugged his jacket off, draping it around you and grabbing ahold of your hand when you were covered.

You apologized for flashing him and he shook his head, obviously it wasn’t your fault and it’s not like he was complaining.

Gojo Satoru:

Due to a particularly bad run in with a cursed spirit, your usual uniform was trashed, so you had to wear your backup uniform, which also ran small.

All day, you had been fighting with your skirt. It was too tight and too short, and was providing you with a substantial amount of stress.

It was lunch, you were half way through the school day, half a day away from going home and getting to wear your sweatpants.

“Oh Y/n~” Half a day from getting rid of the walking headache you called your co-worker.

Sighing, you stopped from where you were walking in the hallway, turning to face him you raised an eyebrow. “Yes Satoru?”

So, yes, you were ‘co-workers’ and yes, you were technically just friends.

But there was also a painful amount of mutual pining and tension that hung between you two.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the attitude? You’ve been like this all day, it’s gonna start hurting my feelings.” You grimaced as you once again adjusted your skirt, “Yeah, well, you’d be a little irritated if you had to keep fixing your skirt every 2 seconds.”

Gojo hummed, “I can imagine, so, care to join me for lunch?” You replied with a ‘sure’, and the two of you made your way to the teacher’s lounge, side by side.

You walked to the fridge and pulled out your lunch, Gojo not far behind you and you both did the necessary prep you needed for your food.

Gojo finished just barely before you, and was already sitting on one of the couches, happily digging into his food.

Once the microwave stopped you pulled your food out and started walking over to the couch.

You sat down, carefully, and began to eat your lunch.

Despite causing you mass amounts of pain and most likely a gray hair or 2, you thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Gojo, I mean, you were kinda in love with him.

“Ah, Satoru, Y/n, just the two I needed to see.” Gojo’s (likely inaccurate) account of his latest mission came to a pause when Principal Yaga walked in.

He had some information about a mission the 2 of you would be going on in 3 days. Apparently this one would be an undercover mission, and a few days.

During the conversation, Gojo (who tries to always have one of his six eyes on you at all times), had noticed your skirt riding up, and seeing as he liked you, the last thing he wanted was for you to embarrass yourself in front of you guys’s boss.

Keep in mind, it’s not like Gojo was having a great time either, you were sitting right in front of him, but it’s not like he could interrupt the principal and loudly announce you were about to expose yourself.

Thankfully, Kusakabe walked in at that moment, stealing just enough of his time for Gojo to catch your attention (like he didn’t already have it🙄) to mouth ‘Your skirt’ while he made a subtle tugging motion with his hand, going back to like nothing happened and stealing the attention of the men while you fixed your skirt.

That mission may or may not have preceded your first date with him.

Sukuna Ryomen:

You and Sukuna would be going on a date tonight, and you had spent the last half hour or so getting ready.

Your hair and make up was done, you had showered earlier, and all you had left to do was get dressed.

You had gotten dressed in your underwear when your mom had called.

You didn’t get to speak to you often and it had been awhile since you had talked, so you spent a good amount of time catching up and filling each other in on the things you had missed.

It had been about 15 minutes, you were sitting down at your vanity, pants on but still no shirt (hey man, a distraction is a distraction, let me have this i’m tired-).

You were so caught up in your phone call you hadn’t noticed that Sukuna had walked into your shared apartment.

He called out to you, but you didn’t answer. He would’ve been more worried than irritated if he didn’t hear you talking on what he presumed to be the phone.

If he knew you weren’t ready yet, he would’ve knocked, but seeing as you were on the phone, the last thing he expected when he opened your bedroom door was to see you half-naked sitting on your vanity stool like this kind of thing was normal.

“Sh*t. Warn a guy, will you? I’m not complaining but you near gave me a heart attack.” You screeched as you almost threw your phone, apologizing to your mom, you glared at Sukuna as he gave you a look that tip-toed between amusement and bewilderment.

“What, it’s not like I haven’t seen your-” You threw your pillow at him before he could finish his sentence, with your mom of all people listening to your conversation.

You two might have been married, but the last thing you needed was your mom pestering you about grandchildren again.

In case you’re wondering, he was laughing the whole time as you beat him with said pillow for saying those kind of things to your mother.

[queenshelby]

The Affair (Part Five)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 976

Warning: Fluff, Angst

 Just like every other night, you woke up in the middle of the night again, sweating and screaming as you dealt with your nightmares.

You had never taken the opium Tommy had given you and, instead, you visited the reading room at around midnight every night for the past three days. Tommy and you talked and, unlike anyone else you had ever met, he listened to you. Then he read to you until you both were tired enough to go back to sleep.

But, you knew that tonight would be different after you had shared that kiss earlier in the day. It was highly inappropriate and you felt ashamed and vulnerable so you decided not to visit the reading room that night.

Surely enough, your absence didn’t go unnoticed and it was at around 1 o’clock in the morning that you heard some noises outside.

You looked out of the window of your guest room and saw Tommy standing there, outside in the cold. He looked up to the stars before sitting down on the front steps of his house which is where he lit himself a cigarette. He didn’t say anything and you weren’t quite sure what he was doing until, suddenly, he glanced up towards your window.

You knew that he would have seen the curtains move as you always slept with a night light on and this was enough to encourage you to put on your shoes and a coat before joining him outside in the cold.

‘You didn’t come to the reading room’ he observed as you snatched the cigarette from him and sat down next to him on the cold stairs.

‘Were you waiting for me?’ you smirked, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘Like I said, I enjoy your company’ Tommy then said as he lit himself a new cigarette and smiled.

‘I thought it would be awkward after what happened’ you explained and Tommy simply nodded before staring up into the night sky again.

‘Why do you like me to keep you company, Tommy? I am much younger than you, just slightly older than your brother Finn’ you asked curiously.

‘The truth is, I don’t know. You are smart Y/N and we share something no one else seems to fucking understand. Despite, you barely seem your age and you remind me of someone I used to know’ Tommy then explained and you ought not to question him about it any longer.

‘Why did you marry your wife? I mean, clearly, unlike me, you had a choice. Isn’t that, right?’ you then asked bluntly after several minutes of silence.

‘And that is where you are wrong Y/N. I didn’t have a choice either. I never intended to marry her, but she was pregnant with my child and, being a member of parliament, this was the right thing to do’ Tommy explained and his explanation caused you to sigh.

Whilst you understood his reasoning, you didn’t think that your circumstances were comparable since, at least, there had been something between him and his wife whereas you had never met your husband until the very day of your wedding.

****

After some more conversation, you decided that it was most defiantly getting too cold outside and made your way back to your room. But, Tommy didn’t leave your mind. There was something about him that made you weak and desperate. You wanted to be with him even though you knew that it was wrong. Just this once, you wanted to feel passion and desire which your life was lacking.

He was so different to your husband, who you barely knew. He was a man, not a boy who was following orders. He gave the orders and that excited you.

But, this wasn’t all which attracted you to Tommy. You knew that, deep down inside, he was kind and loving. He listened to you and he seemed to care about you which is more than anyone else had ever done for you.

What he did, he did for his family and you appreciated that.

****

The following morning, on the day of your birthday, you soon realised that no one was home other than Charlie and the maids.

Frances informed you that your husband was attending business with Thomas in Birmingham and that they would both be back by dinner.

‘Thank you, Frances’ you said and she nodded with a warm smile, which is when you decided to spend the day with Charlie.

You had promised to teach him how to play chess and, after a few rounds, you soon learned that he was going to be a good player.

The day flew by as you kept yourself busy at Tommy’s house, playing with Charlie and attending to the horses which you adored.

Then, at around 8 o’clock in the evening and well after dinner, you saw Tommy’s car pull up in front of the house but there was no sign of your husband.

‘Where is Finn?’ you asked as Tommy walked inside, thinking that something had happened.

‘What do you think, eh?’ he asked, sighing deeply as he did.

‘Visiting the prostitutes of Birmingham’ you sighed somewhat disappointed and Tommy nodded reluctantly.

‘Can I see you in the reading room in half an hour? I have to make an urgent phone call’ Tommy then said and you nodded.

Seemingly, everyone had forgotten your birthday by that point. Not even your father had called from Camden Town.

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[egoludes]

satisfaction guaranteed.

summary: your super soldiers hear there’s a new contender in the bedroom; they intend to learn all about it.

pairing: stucky x reader.

notes: ok, i’ll admit it - this is so outrageously self-indulgent and fully inspired by a recent, um, purchase. i was hoping to get it out in time for valentine’s day, but then work kicked my ass - so consider it a delayed love letter to y’all heh. my apologies in advance to the manufacturers of the sex toy featured here; please don’t sue me? borders from deathlyrph!

warnings: nsfw / 18+, threesome, sex toy, implied & light overstimulation

He doesn’t mean to listen in - scout’s honor.

There just isn’t much that Bucky’s super soldier hearing misses and the raving of some very giddy --- and very drunk --- Avengers is nowhere near that list. He’s actually pleased to hear the way you, Natasha, and Wanda are carrying on when he rounds the corner. Missions have been taking a toll lately, keeping everyone on the team on edge and up late. You, in particular, have been distant, putting on a facade that never quite reaches your eyes, and he and Steve have been on wit’s end trying to perk you up.

The ladies, it seems, have it all figured out.  You’re laughing freely for the first time in weeks, and Bucky’s grateful that no one (particularly Sam) can see the way the sound makes him utterly lovesick. His adoration keeps him still a few seconds longer, basking in how free you seem, but he doesn’t intend to stay much past that. In fact, he’s a half-step into leaving when he hears it:

“So, wait -- have you tried it yet? The Satisfyer?” 

Confusion brings him to a full stop. Satisfyer? 

That feeling only grows, knitting his eyebrows, when you’re the one to answer with an emphatic, and damn near dreamy “Yes.”

Bucky’s an intelligent man and the name alone is a pretty effective context clue. Still, he doesn’t really put it together until Wanda squeals and Nat (who he can see in his mind’s eye, clear as day, leaning into you with that cheeky smirk) pushes you for more.

“It’s kind of...overwhelming,” you continue, pausing to refill your glass, “but in the best way. Like in a ‘How did I ever masturbate before this’ kind of way. My knees literally buckled when I got up after. Can you believe that? Buckled! I was fuckin’ woozy! ” He can tell you’re animated just by the way your volume starts to rise and whatever you’re doing must be endearing because even Natasha is chuckling.

Bucky still loves it, don’t get him wrong. In fact, he adores you excited like this, especially after all the darkness lately. But, there’s something genuinely puzzling about so much excitement around a sex toy. He hadn’t even known you’d bought something new. When had you tried it? Where were he and Steve?

His thoughts start to swirl, intrigue and curiosity mounting in a wave that he pushes past with a step, then another, as he reminds himself that he has somewhere to be.

No chance he’ll be forgetting about this, though. 

Steve hears about it from Bucky. 

Secondhand stories can be tricky; full of exaggerations and misunderstanding. But, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it. He just doesn’t comprehend the implications of it until he experiences it for himself. 

That happens on a Saturday afternoon. 

You’d been tense in training, taking hits you’ve dodged a thousand times and fumbling moves you’ve done twice that. A bad bout typically doesn’t do you in, but Steve can tell by the way your attacks grow more and more stilted, that you’re overextending just to make blows meet. 

It gets so bad that he breaks one of his few cardinal rules -- never pulling rank with you or Bucky outside of missions -- to get you out of the spar, and your frustration with it is as clear as the exhaustion that sags your limbs. You’re out the door before he can apologize, or explain.

An hour later, he’s showered and changed, seeking you out in your corner of the compound with peace offerings at the ready. This time, they come in the form of your favorite snack and a promise to spar with you himself the next time you’re scheduled - no holds barred. 

But, when you pull open the door at his knock, he’s surprised to see that he may not need them.

You’re completely...sated. The tension you’d had in your shoulders when you left the gym is nowhere to be found and in its place is a sheen of satisfaction. It’s all over you: in a dopey smile, lidded eyes, and the faint whiff of your cunt he gets when he leans into you.

In an instant, he puts two and two together, and Steve feels his body warm at the realization that you’ve just finished touching yourself. And not just that: it had been so good that your entire mood’s flipped and you’re beaming at him, no walls or reservations.

He makes his apology all the same, though, and your smile widens as you reach for him and the snack in a tease: “Better not back out on that fight, Captain.”

He grins back, pleased you’re feeling better, but making a mental note to speak to Bucky as soon as you let him go.

I think we need to check out this ‘Satisfyer’.

They ask you about it on Valentine’s Day.

You’re running on the high of a beautiful evening: dinner in DUMBO and drinks in Brooklyn Heights. The latter -- a couple cocktails for you, white wine for your boys -- finds you buzzing as you let them into your room back at the compound. You feel eyes on your hips from behind, heavy gazes that sear the curves, and you sway pointedly, smiling at the sharp breaths that follow. 

You know where the night is going ---- know the way a good date makes them handsy. So the attention is no surprise. Neither is the cool press of metal to your back and the kiss to that spot under your ear. “Bed, pretty girl,” Bucky drawls against your skin, intent pressing -- and growing -- against your hip as he settles against you.

Steve rounds you from the other side, not touching but so close you can feel the rise of heat from his body. You look up just in time to catch him watching you back, blue eyes darkening with each step into your bedroom.

Your dress is easy work, pooling at your ankles with a few good pulls, But, Steve and Bucky take their time with everything else. You’re in something special, after all --- pretty lace and dewey colors that deserve an extra look, an extra touch. They’re on you the moment it’s revealed to them, thumbing the fabric with murmured praise through the lips all over your skin. 

The daze it sets follows you all the way to the mattress where you lay back against Steve’s chest (still clothed, to your chagrin) with his arms settled around you. His hands end up bracing your thighs, naturally at first, then deliberately as Bucky starts to kiss trails up and over your calf. With the latest string of missions, you can’t remember the last time you had their mouths on you and the anticipation as Bucky’s creeps closer is almost crippling. Your body tenses with each point of contact, eyes lidding as they watch him rise, inch by tortuous inch. 

“Sweetheart.” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your focus with a rumble you can feel in your back. “We wanna try something new with you tonight.” You turn just enough to watch him, answering with a hum to urge him on. “Can you tell Buck,” he continues, dipping to run his nose along yours. You feel tiny when he bears down on you like this, and he can see the way it affects you just in the flutter of your lashes. “--where you keep your ‘Satisfyer’?”

What?

In a split second, you’re sobered up, no hint of the lust or buzz that’d been following you for most of the night. Bringing toys to bed isn’t new by any means, but they have never, ever referred to one by name like that. Nor requested it specifically. It’s so startling that you don’t know what to say for a moment, mind utterly blank until you feel Bucky’s hand tighten around your thigh to bring you back.  “You -- my what?”

“Satisfyer,” Steve echoes, hand resting on your tummy. From below, you can feel Bucky’s eyes burning into the side of your face, expectant. “Buck’s heard you mention it before, and we’d like to know what all the fuss is about. ---- If you’re willing, that is.”

You look back and forth between them, mouth gaping for a second before you swallow your shock down whole. Two super soldiers can be a lot to manage on their own -- adding a toy that’s knocked you on your ass a few times over now seems like a very dangerous game. But, you can feel Steve hardening against your back and can’t deny the slick that’s seeping through your panties at the thought alone. So you nod, lip pulled between your teeth, and direct Bucky to the left side of your bottom drawer. 

When he’s back between your legs, it’s with the rose gold toy in hand. The mere sight of it makes you clench; something he doesn’t miss when he’s that close to your core. “Someone’s excited,” Bucky muses, brow arching before his gaze returns to his hand. The Satisfyer is unlike any toy he’s ever seen, shaped more like some alien gadget than a vibrator, and no amount of Google sleuthing could’ve prepared him for what it feels like in person. The smoothness of it in his hand, the unique curves along his palm. You bite back a giggle at how intently he inspects it, turning it over this way and that to get used to its weight.

“Hmm.. that’s definitely different,” Steve chimes in, as focused on the toy as Bucky is. It isn’t hard to work out how it’s used from the design alone, but what they’re still itching to know is what it does. How it unravels you so well, until your knees buckle even. And it doesn’t take long for that anticipation to trump their curiosity and you’re brought back to the moment when Steve ducks his head to your shoulder, pressing kisses to the skin there as he smooths hands down your inner thighs. He draws his palms back and forth a few times until they suddenly still, and he’s holding your legs -- and you -- wide open. “How about we give it a go, pal?” 

Bucky says nothing in return, but he probably doesn’t have to. The toy clicking to life is enough, a rhythm that fills the room with anticipation. Your tummy tightens at the sound -- another reaction neither man misses -- and the tension stays put, coiled tight until the Satisfyer closes over your clit.

The first pulse knocks air out of you that you hadn’t realized you were holding. The ones that follow unfurl you, melting your anticipation in favor of a soft, thrumming pleasure that coats you head to toe. It’s odd, having someone else use it on you, but in a good way. The best way. 

You surrender to it, relaxing into Steve’s hold as Bucky holds you open with two fingers.  So far, that’s no different than normal --- you’re always this pliant for them, putty beneath their fingers once they get to work. But, tonight, they’re greedy. Tonight, they want more from you; want whatever this toy has been able to draw out in their absence.

Bucky kicks things up a notch, turning the pulse up two speeds. The change is subtle to them, clicks coming just a smidgen faster and louder. For you, it seems to make all the difference. Immediately, you react, back arching up from its place against Steve’s chest with a sound that makes the Captain purr behind you.

“Mm...must feel good,” he notes, a hand gliding along your tummy until he can palm your breast. “Can you tell us, sweetheart?” He punctuates the question with fingers around your nipple, tweaking lightly.

Your lips part, but no words follow; not at first. It’s like your body and mind are disconnected, static in the places where they usually go together. The fuzziness is welcome, but hard to speak through, and it’s all you can do just to whine when Steve gives your nipple an urgent pinch. Bucky joins in with a cool finger pressing at your cunt, the light whirring from his arm giving you something concrete enough to focus on. ‘S good,” you finally pant, twisting to tuck your head into Steve, “so good.”

Bucky huffs out a chuckle and your entire body goes tight; with his face so close, you can feel every breath. “That mean you’re gonna let us finish you up, just like this?”

It’s a rhetorical question --- has to be, the way he presses the toy tighter to your clit. Still, you answer with an eager nod, legs widening some as if to give him the go ahead. “Please, Buck, ‘m close already, it -- right there, I-I’ll--” Your pleas are pretty, a desperate melody, and they appease every base instinct Bucky has. He’d wanted to keep you on edge a little longer to explore the toy more, but he’s a sucker for his girl; always has been. You win him over without even trying. 

Steve isn’t far behind, cock leaking in his dress pants seeing you so desperate. He hasn’t gotten his hand on the toy yet, but even he seems to feel its effect. The hand that isn’t cupping your breast spreads over your tummy, delighting in the way the flesh underneath tightens and spreads. You’re certainly close --- he knows your body as well as you do. And the thought of it makes him hungry, makes him press teeth into the skin behind your ear as he urges you on: “Go on, honey -- make a mess for us.”

Your peak comes fast after that, punching you in the gut with its intensity. The first wave of orgasm runs right through you, leaving a tremble in its wake, and your hips twist instinctively to escape the toy. Bucky, however, isn’t so forgiving, metal curling around your hip in a vice. Ride it out, he seems to say with a dark, lidded glance from between your legs. 

You whimper in response, head tipping back against Steve’s chest as you fumble for purchase in the warmth of Bucky’s free hand. 

Something tells you this will be a long night. 

Forty minutes later, you can’t see straight.

Your first orgasm had been gradual, as tentative as the men watching this new toy work you. But, after that, it’s like a flip switches in Bucky and Steve, making them greedy for as many more as they can get.

The second one isn’t long after the first. Bucky turns the Satisfyer up to the highest setting, the other end of the spectrum that you hadn’t even gotten a chance to try on your own yet. The first contact lights fire through your sensitive body and you’re on the brink in just minutes.  Toes stretching and curling into the sheets by Bucky’s hips, you’re practically squirming with need and it only takes one good twist of the toy for you to crumble all over again. They give you a break after that, but most of it is spent kissing you too long for you to catch your breath.

You don’t mind that too much, though.

The third orgasm is Steve’s fault. Ever the strategist, he starts thinking through the ways they can play with frequency and angle to make you cum again. You don’t notice it in your foggy comedown, but he’s fished his phone out and flicked through to a page he’s looked over more times that he cares to admit. And when Bucky settles between your legs to get you going again, he finally speaks up. “Buck, I found this review online---” Both you and Bucky turn to him, curiosity in the way you gape, but he’s making a face back that’s loud and clear:  ‘do not ask’. “---that said they were able to cum in a couple minutes with this alone. Had some interestin’ suggestions about how, too.” He grins around a Brooklyn drawl, that handsome face stirring something in you when it looks so devious. “You think we can get our girl finished faster than that?”

They pull it off -- embarrassingly easily at that -- and it’s in the pale of that third climax that they finally, finally press inside you. 

Your cunt is soaked, supple and warm around Steve as he sits you down over his cock. After so much play, the stretch is nothing, a pleasant burn in the pit of your belly that makes your eyes flutter closed. 

“Tell us how you feel,” Steve asks for the second time that night, his voice strained around the effort to keep from fucking you. Even if you’re taking him well -- easier than ever before, in fact -- he’s cautious not to lose his head, no matter how much he wants to. 

No matter how much the urge to plow you into your mattress dizzies him.

Your eyes are still closed when you respond, tongue over your dry lips as you part them with a needy sound. “S-Still good…,” you sigh, mind swimming. You want to move, start to move in a mindless search for some friction. But, the rocking doesn’t last long, stuttering to a stop when you hear the toy click to life  and try to focus through the haze of your pleasure with eyes darting for answers.

You find them in the smug grin on Bucky’s face as he palms the Satisfyer in one hand and works his cock out of his pants with the other. “What,” he purrs, voice lilted in a taunt, “you didn’t think we were done with this yet, did you?”

Oh yeah --- this’ll definitely be a long night.

[ddarker-dreams]

Epiphany. Yan Albedo x Reader

Warnings: General yandere themes, implied unhappy previous relationship, and spoilers for Albedo’s story. Word count: 2k.

It wasn’t fair. 

A snowstorm, unlike anything you’ve ever seen rages outside, shards of lustrous ice falling from the sky with the intent to kill. The Dragonspine’s traditionally somber ambiance contorts into something far more sinister. Numerous hues of grays and dark blues blur together, obscuring your view of the mountainous region. It’s difficult to see anything outside Albedo’s workshop save for the storm. 

“Your shaking won’t stop unless you sit by the fire.” 

His matter-of-fact declaration startles you. Albedo hadn’t spoken in some time, his attention devoted to a specimen he had discovered prior to the storm. You would’ve shared in his enthusiasm if not for the overall situation and company. Sighing reluctantly, you stand from your spot, hugging yourself to stave off the biting cold. It’s impossible to settle on which is worse: staring at the blizzard or staring at him. 

Albedo’s fair skin glows from the light of the crackling fire, sandy blonde hair tousled around his face without care. As he studies the new specimen, his lips purse, eyes focusing on nothing but the work before him, like nothing else mattered. This is how you’ve always known him to be. Even if the world was falling apart around him, Albedo would never falter from what catches his interest until he felt sated. 

Sensing how you’re fixating on him, his attention flickers briefly to you, an unidentifiable emotion gleaming in his eyes. You’re the one to avert your gaze first. Sucrose is going to owe you majorly for this one, why did you even accept her request in the first place? Thinking about it now and cursing your past self does nothing yet you still occupy the time by doing just that. She had come to you panicked, pleading that you take this letter to Albedo in the Dragonspine, claiming it’s urgent. In the heat of the moment, your judgment lapsed and you caved. She spoke of needing to continue her research in Mondstadt or else she would’ve done it herself.

Look where your goodwill has gotten you now, you think. She owes me a week’s worth of dinner. 

You lament giving credence to his advice, but your stubbornness concedes, the cold too miserable to withstand any longer. The fire is right by his side to add insult to injury. Did he do that on purpose to spite you? It’s unlikely, yet your mind wanders to the worst-case scenario. If any other citizen of Mondstadt were privy to your suspicious thoughts, they’d think you unreasonable, as Albedo has established his reputation well. He’s a known eccentric, sure, but a genius one. A few quirks on his behalf that anyone else could overlook. 

Quirks that you used to overlook yourself.

“Would you please grab my bag,” he doesn’t look away from his prized sample but motions to the general area it’s in. “I need to write down my observations.” 

You follow through with what he asks. There was a time you’d have been over the moon to participate in his process, you used to practically trip over yourself to do anything he needed. That enthusiasm has long died off and been replaced by apathy. It’s when he reaches out to take the bag from you that you snap from your trance-like reverie. Whatever remnants of obedience that lingered in your subconscious are brushed away, as you decide to finally challenge him.

Inhaling sharply, you hold the bag just out of his reach, finally earning his recognition for more than a millisecond. 

“I’m not your assistant anymore.” Among other things, you think. 

The words come out more childish than you intended. What you had meant to communicate was your new, critical view on him — he’s a person just the same as anyone else — who held no authority over you. You hold your breath awaiting his response. Albedo doesn’t have an intimidating presence, not in the traditional sense. It’s his mind that you’re wary of. There’s no guessing what sentiments run through his head, yet that’s never stopped you from trying to unravel the mystery that is his thought process.

He gives you a long, hard stare. “I’m aware of that.” 

Where were you going with this again? Albedo doesn’t need to point out your needlessly spiteful behavior with words, his mildly irate facial expression says it just fine. His thin eyebrows threaten to furrow together and the corners of his lips curl down into a frown. You’re unsure of what bothers him more. What you pointed out, or that his work is being interrupted for even the slightest moment. 

The budding confidence you had is all but crushed beneath the weight of his unblinking gaze. Clearing your throat, you decide to take a new approach, straightening your posture in an attempt to be taken more seriously.

“Then tell me, why do you still act like I am?” Your question comes from a genuine place of confusion. Ever since your arrival, you’ve begrudgingly done the odds and ends he’s asked of you, almost like clockwork. You had fallen back into the rhythm that was your life up until a month ago. There was just something about the silent authority he carries that makes it impossible to say no. 

That is, until now. You’re determined to clear up the problems that have plagued your mind. Albedo’s had his time to be nonchalant like nothing happened between you two, but you’re not having it anymore. 

“Force of habit,” he nods his head towards your hand that holds his possessions captive. “Now, would you please…?” 

Your grip tightens and you shake your head defiantly. “No. Or at least, not until you give me a better explanation. Not just about that. How you act in general… none of it makes sense to me.” 

It wouldn’t take much effort from his half to wrangle his bag from you, you’ve seen him in action before after all, so it comes as a surprise when he instead gives in. You blink, gaping when he takes a seat by the roaring fire, and motions for you to do the same. An opportunity like this is hard to come by. The past few weeks, it’s been your code of conduct to avoid any interaction with Albedo, but your frustration can no longer be repressed. 

You take a seat by his side but intentionally leave some distance. 

There’s so much you want to say. Insults, questions, demands, anything. Anything that could give just a hint of closure that he refused to offer himself. It doesn’t help that this familiar area brings memories with it — good and bad alike — painful nostalgia eating away at your heart from the inside out. While you battle with your inner thoughts, he observes you in silence. For a time you hear nothing but the crackling of the fire and wind howling outside.

Finding the courage to speak up, your throat tightens as you force a question out. “Did I… mean so little to you?” 

It’s rare that Albedo ever looks taken aback, but your inquiry managed to do just that. His eyes widen ever so slightly, confusion etching onto his face before he manages to compose himself. Lots of intimate discussions had gone this way. You’d spend hours prepping yourself, meticulously going over what it was you wanted to say, only for the words to die on your tongue when you saw him. 

“I don’t understand what you mean.” He appears genuinely perplexed and you can’t help but feel silly. It may have served you better to think long about this, you realize, but now it’s too late. You rush to explain yourself in hopes of making better sense. 

“When I said I wanted to, er, part ways,” you can’t help but cringe at not knowing the proper label for ending whatever was going on between you two, “You just seemed, I don’t know, indifferent…?” 

In your head, this went down in such a different way. 

Your cheeks are set ablaze by the humiliation his silence brings. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this exact way when bringing up your feelings to Albedo, yet it’s just as awful. Archons, does he always have to look at you like you have three heads? 

When he finally gives you an answer, you wish you had never asked. 

“I knew you would come back to me eventually.” 

Now it’s your turn to give him an incredulous look. He says it without an ounce of hesitation, never once breaking eye contact, his resolve holding firm. Sensing a need to clarify, he attempts to do just that. 

“I considered a variety of variables,” he raises his hand and brushes his knuckles over your face, the unexpected tenderness making you shiver. “I know how your mind works very well. When you told me that’s what you wanted, your physical mannerisms didn’t line up with what you were saying.”

Your heart drops but he doesn’t stop there. 

“Biological responses never lie. It wasn’t anxiety that kept you from looking me in the eye then, it was reasonable doubt. You know it as well as I do. There’s something about me that you can’t place, and the natural human response to the unknown is caution.”

He stops caressing your cheek. “So, tell me [First], and maybe then you’ll reach the conclusion you’ve been searching for. Why are you afraid of me?”

Everything feels wrong. How he’s whispering such horrifying ideas into your mind, leading the conversation with expertise. Is it charisma? You don’t think that’s the proper word. No, it’s how damn certain he is, how he never once leaves room for argument. 

Albedo appraises your silence coldly. 

“See? You’re not sure yourself. Thus why I knew you’d return to me,” he retracts his hand and leans back, but the ghost of his touch leaves your face tingling. “When you don’t understand something, you study it. That’s who you are. It’s why I picked you to be my assistant, that quality of exhausting curiosity, much like the one I have myself.”

He’s hypnotizing you with his words, his even tone, his silent authority. You’re drawn in like a moth to a flame and trapped in a verbal standoff. Whether it was a result of your Vision flickering subconsciously resulting in the fire diminishing or some other cause, you realize what little warmth in the cave is disappearing, your breath materializing in front of you as a result. 

But it’s only yours. 

That’s when it clicks deep inside the recesses of your mind. Apart of what always bothered you about Albedo was this sense of uncanniness. Whenever you thought you were understanding him better, new mysteries would arise, leaving you worse off than when you started. This combined with his workload and the emotional distance you felt between the two of you is what led to your separation. 

Albedo’s face is but a few inches away from yours. He’s patiently awaiting a response or anything you could muster to challenge him with, though both of you are aware that no such thing exists. 

You manage to surprise him again by asking another question. “Why… why are you not breathing?”

And how could you never have noticed until now?

His long eyelashes flutter shut. “Relationships truly are troublesome. There are unspoken rules and expectations, both of which take effort to satisfy. I hadn’t mind trying to do so to keep you happy, but that approach didn’t work as intended.” 

Had it not been for the hammering of your heart and how lighthearted you feel, you’d challenge him on his definition of trying. Instead, you watch without so much as moving an inch, too in awe to utter a single word. 

“You always asked me to be more romantic, but I guess the phrase you take my breath away won’t suffice here,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell you, but once you know… well, I don’t think I can ever let you leave my side.”

“I hope you won’t mind keeping me company a bit longer than you intended to.” 

[midday0nightmares]

17 - like normal.

previous chapter changes (m).

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, mental health.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

 After that incident thing have started to change, they sat you down and  they promised changes, you have asked for your own room but since there wasn’t any spare rooms they have agreed to let you use the living room since nobody’s visits them anyway, they have also agreed not to be forceful with you in sexual terms an return you have to cooperate, other than that the same rule still applies, no leaving without permission, no contacting anyone outside this apartment.

One day jeno come back with a gift, a pair of shoes for you, it was a red converse, you were so happy that you leaped in his arms thanking him, jaemin have bought you a mattress and you’ve picked a spot for it in the living room, and after your wound healed and you regained your strength they took you to the store and they let you pick whatever you wanted, pillows, a cute bedside light, shampoo and conditioner, towels, coffee cup, nail polish, makeup, and all the snacks you wanted.. unfortunately the store didn’t sell any clothes but it’s ok, you didn’t mind waiting, you walked out of the store skipping with excitement, you finally started to feel alive, like you actually exist.

When you got back, jaemin helped you arrange your new belongings, he cleared a shelf for you in his bathroom, he arranged them for you, you couldn’t stop smiling all day to the point where your cheeks were sore, jaemin was in an awe with how he could make you this happy with simple things, he couldn’t resist the urge to squeeze you in his arms eliciting a delighted squeal out of you.

Jeno enrolled you in an online collage, after he let you chose what you wanted to major in and paid the full tuition, he got you your textbooks, pens and note pads. in your previous life, you wouldn’t have dreamed of completing your education in due to your family low income. And they didn’t stop here, they got you a gaming console for you when you feel bored, while jeno focused more on the practical side of your needs, jaemin focussed on what would make you happy, he got you pretty pajama sets, fluffy slippers, plushies. 

You filled the bathtub and threw in a vanilla scented bath bomb and you lite your new scented candle, you sat in the warm water enjoying your pampering session, you laid back and sigh in content feeling your muscles relax in warm waters, it took a while before jaemin barged through the door without knocking, your hand came to cover your upper half. “it’s nothing I didn’t see before” he laughed at his insensitive comment but dropped the smile when he noticed your stiff face.you remains silent as he cleared his throat and opened the cabinet, awkwardly looking for something before walking out but he didn’t close the door all the way leaving it slightly open, something about his behavior made you wary so you decided to end your bath and get dressed.

 When you walked out he was laying on his bed mindlessly scrolling through his phone, you went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, you open the cabinet looking for your brand new cup, you spot it on the highest shelf, you sighed and you stood on you tiptoes stretching your arm as far as you can, you struggle to reach it before you feel a presence behind you, his body pressed against your back side, his hand grabs the cup putting it down on the counter in front of you, he doesn’t move and keeps hovering close to you. “here you go” Jamin whispers in a low voice, involuntary shiver runs down your spine and you move away from him, his actions freaking you out, something about him seems off. 

You avert your gaze back to your cup and continue making your tea, he leans closer to you and sniffs your damp hair, “no thank you?” He asks you but you ignore him taking your hot drink and scramble away from him, your heart’s beating fast, the sweet but creepy gesture confusing you, you’ve never had a boyfriend or any close guys friends so you don’t know what qualify as normal, and what qualify as creepy, you can blame your traumatized perception for the confusion. 

The weekend was spent in peace, other than jaemin’s strange behavior, there’s nothing for you to complain about. 

Jeno suggested to try the new gaming console and challenged you to a game, the loser would have to do the dishes for the day, you agreed with much confidence that you will win, the game begins and your fiery competitiveness flare up, you both shamelessly cheat but you’er still winning before he snatches the controller out of your hands and beats you to the finish line making him the winner of the first round.. you shout at him and wrestle him for the controller while demanding a rematch, but something on his inner forearm catches your attentions, something you never seen before, a tattoo.

 you halt your attack and grab his arm to get a closer look before asking, “you have a tattoo? since when?” You pointed them out, “since always dummy” his eyes disappear behind his cheeks forming small crescents.

the tattoos looked odd, they were three vertical lines with one horizontal line crossing them on his left arm, and on his right arm there was two lines one of them looks recent, you frowned “what do they mean?” He shrugged, your fingers tracing the small lines, they must mean something, they look too plain for it to be decoration ,and they looked purposeful, and unlike jaemin’s interact back tattoos, these look unprofessionally done, adding to jeno’s mystery.

“did you do it yourself?” You realize you were being noisy but he doesn’t seems to mind, he hums. You still curios so you ask “did it hurt?” He pretends to thinks about it before he answer “mm not really, now let me beat your ass again”, you returned to your game this time you managed to win the next round.

After dinner you helped him with dishes, and they went to their rooms after wishing you a good night, you turned off the lights and made yourself comfortable in your mock bed, ready for slumber to take you away to dreamland, your eyes slowly close as the room around you dims until it disappear.

A warm sensation flows though you, your mind focuses on it as it gets warmer and warmer, it localize in one spot, in between your legs, a faint strokes of warmth generating a pool of wetness, the pleasure intensifies and you relaxes your legs to allow the warm strokes to reach deeper, your hands reach down to land on soft hair, you grip on it as a moan erupts from you, you grind your hips to aid the aching need, you look down and you’er er met with jaemin’s face in between your thighs, his jet black eyes watching you.

you jolt awake in horror, your mouth is dry as you pant, you tell yourself that it was just a dream, you close your eyes for a minute to calm your breathing, once you’ve calmed down your mind wonders to when he pressed himself to you earlier, his muscular body, his deep voice, his board chest and strong arms.. the pulse between your legs becomes too loud for you to fall back to sleep, your hands roam your body imaging if they were his, reality mixes with dreams, and in your disoriented state you reach down under your panties to be met with a mess of sticky wetness, your fingers slide with ease as your rub your folds, your breathing heaves as you dip your fingers inside your needy cunt, your eyes roll back as you moan his name, you desperately chase your release, pumping faster until you tip over the edge, your walls convulse uncontrollably as you cum hard, euphoric waves fill you, you bask in it while it lasts, your clouded mind clears up and you realize what you just did, your cheeks flaming in embarrassment, this is wrong, you shouldn’t think of him like this.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 5 - ao3 -

The Nightless City was like nothing Lan Qiren had ever seen before in his life.

It was grand and glorious, everything writ large on a massive scale – the number of people, the number of buildings, the size of the buildings…it was said that Lanling City was more crowded and full of people, but that was because it had a smaller scope, shoving all those people into a small area, while the Nightless City never ran out of space because any time it did it would just expand its borders further.

For someone like Lan Qiren, who longed to travel to the strange parts of the world and see all sorts of things for the first time, it was a dream come true –

Or rather, it would be, if only he had the ability to give it the attention it deserved. Which he didn’t.

The issue had initially arisen in the week leading up to their departure from the Cloud Recesses. Like all the other disciples, especially those nominated for their musical talents, Lan Qiren had spent a great deal of time in the library pavilion, perusing score after score in search of the one that they would present as their own individual selection.

He’d found one he rather liked: an exceedingly complicated piece, composed for the guqin, meant to signify the orderly chaos of nature and winning mastery over the internal chaos within. It had been a challenge to master the complex finger work, not to mention the necessary qi fluctuations required to properly showcase the song even if he had no plans to wield it as a spell – no one actually needed roots to leap up from the earth to try to trap his enemies in the middle of a musical demonstration – but he’d accomplished it, meeting even his own stringent standards for excellence. He’d been very proud, and eager to display it at the discussion conference.

His brother, in conjunction with the teacher that would be accompanying them, had rejected it.

They hadn’t even let him demonstrate that he’d adequately mastered it – their teacher, the swordfighting master that his brother liked so much, had taken a cursory look at the score and deemed it too eccentric; his brother had judged it too flashy, and thus too risky. They had recommended he perform one of the more traditional Lan sect songs that they knew he had mastered perfectly: Inquiry, perhaps, or Evocation.

Lan Qiren had decided to ignore them.

He hadn’t told them that, of course. He’d kept his decision hugged close to his chest, buried beneath a façade of calm that was easy enough to keep in place since most people couldn’t tell his stressed expression from his regular one, and his tone never really got that far from a monotone anyway.

He’d kept that secret, turning it over and over in his head, unable to think of anything else, unable to enjoy the distant travel (well, unable to enjoy it as much as he should), unable to really appreciate the grandiose opening ceremonies, the sect leaders of the Great Sects seated together on their platform, the smaller sects beneath them…

Luckily, the music competition was scheduled for the very first day of the conference, right after the opening ceremony. First there was the technical challenge, in which they all played together – that made it especially difficult, because a single wrong note by your neighbor could knock off your own playing if you weren’t focused, while the judges were all cultivators powerful enough to sharpen their hearing and pick out any discordant sounds even out of the large crowd of them all going at it together – and then the individual performances.

Lan Qiren had the honor of going fourth.

He went out there, saluted the judges, saluted the audience of sect leaders, sat down on the platform and played the song he wanted to play. If perhaps he had his heart in his throat because of a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, if perhaps his gut churned, feeling unusually full of spite and rebelliousness – he put it all aside in favor of the music.

Nothing mattered when he played but the music. Nothing.

When it was done, he stood and saluted again – the judges, then the audience – and retreated back to the area where the Lan sect was standing. As he’d expected, his teacher was waiting for him, hands behind his back and apparently calm on the surface; a small jerk of his head, and Lan Qiren knew to obediently follow him.

They couldn’t leave, of course, since that would be rude, but they went a little ways off to the side to a more secluded corner of the field where they could be safely ignored - everyone’s attention was on the performances.

“Do not tell lies,” the teacher said, a censure, and Lan Qiren dropped into a deep salute.

“I did not lie, honored teacher,” he said, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. “According to the guidelines set out when the event was announced, each disciple has the right to select his own music for the independent portion of the competition, provided that they can perform their selected composition to an adequate degree of mastery. Although you and my brother recommended that I select Inquiry as my performance piece instead, I did not accept your recommendation, and have never said that I would.”

His teacher’s frown deepened. “I would have expected better of you,” he said, and Lan Qiren’s shoulders curled inwards a little, the words cutting as deeply as any knife. “Quibbling over such a technicality with your elders – do not forget, arrogance is forbidden.”

Lan Qiren held the salute in place. “I understand, honored teacher.”

“Have you anything more to say to yourself?”

Lan Qiren thought about simply accepting the punishment that his teacher’s tone warned was inevitable, but – he really, truly did not believe he deserved it. And so, even though it might only make it worse, he opened his mouth and stumbled clumsily through the argument he had written out in advance, citing the rules and prior interpretations of the rules that he believed supported his actions. He was very confident of his grasp on the rules, but less sure of his persuasive powers and altogether despairing of any oratory skill, and yet...he had to try.

His teacher listened in stony silence. When Lan Qiren was done, he said, “I had never supposed you to be born with a lawyer’s tongue,” which was an insult – the Lan sect, like most cultivation sects, were gentry and thus had no need to seek employment in the magistrates’ courts. “Do you intend to continue on this rebellious path?”

“No, honored teacher,” Lan Qiren said emphatically. “In all other respects, I will listen to your orders, and my brother’s, as if they were carved on the Wall of Discipline.”

His teacher huffed disbelievingly, but he flicked his sleeves and went back to the crowd of Lan sect disciples currently spectating the next player in sequence without imposing any immediate punishment. That was an implicit concession to Lan Qiren’s argument: if he had failed to be convincing, a punishment would have been imposed at once.

Lan Qiren straightened himself out of his salute – his teacher had not granted him permission to rise throughout his recitation, and he hadn’t wanted to make his rebelliousness worse by presuming – and allowed himself a brilliant smile.

His teacher’s departure did not mean that he would escape all censure; his brother, sitting up at the sect leader’s pavilion, would undoubtedly have his own views on the subject, and of course simply disrespecting age and authority in public was reason enough for discipline. But Lan Qiren had done it. He had maintained his own position despite adversity and remained true to himself; he had not yielded, even if only in such a small matter, and he had persevered. Truly, it was as the rules said: have a strong will and anything can be achieved.

He looked around to check to make sure that no one had noticed their little interchange, mindful of his promise and his brother’s instruction that he not lose face, but it didn’t seem to be that way. Even on the sect leader’s pavilion, the sect leaders were all watching the performance – Wen Ruohan even had his head tilted to the side as if sharpening his hearing so as to listen more intently, which Lan Qiren supposed was further evidence that he wasn’t as disinterested in musical matters as others had speculated, and also that whoever was playing (he wasn’t paying attention) must be quite good.

It didn’t matter. Lan Qiren hadn’t played his selection because he’d been obsessively determined to win; he had only wanted to display some part of himself sincerely, and he had done so. Whatever else happened, that was sufficient.

He took a moment to find his calm once again, allowing his face to return to an expression of neutrality – gloating was unseemly, and forbidden by the rules, if other lose to you, don’t look down on them, even if the victory here was minor – and then at last returned to his place among the other Lan sect disciples.

He watched the remaining performances calmly, and without incident.

After the competition was done, the judges began to debate their rankings. Musical competitions were generally not favored at discussion conferences because of the need for careful consideration before victory or defeat could be determined – unlike in a contest of martial strength, when the contestants were near to each other in strength there was no immediate understanding of who had won – but Wen Ruohan had apparently planned ahead for that.

He announced that the contestants and audience would be dismissed while the judges’ deliberations were ongoing – in order to allow them to begin enjoying the wonders of the Nightless City, he explained with a supercilious smirk – and that the results of the competition would be announced shortly before the banquet planned for dinner.

Lan Qiren was not surprised when the sect leaders largely stayed behind, at least initially, to continue conversations; he was only relieved that he had a small reprieve before his brother came to scold him. Similarly, he was unsurprised when his fellow disciples immediately split into groups to go out to explore the Nightless City, and when those groups did not include him – even the ones that he would have otherwise expected to invite him, the ones he was more friendly with, cast fearful glances at their stone-faced teacher and apologetic ones at him; no one wanted to be associated with a troublemaker lest they be dragged into the mire alongside them.

It was fine.

Lan Qiren nodded at them, indicating that he understood, to their evident relief, and turned to look at his teacher in silent question. It was not unthinkable that he could go out alone…

“Perhaps you should stay behind,” his teacher said icily. “You can use the time for contemplation.”

Lan Qiren had promised himself: one rebellion, and nothing more. He raised his hands into a salute.

“As you say, honored teacher.”

Instead of following the others out, as he might have otherwise wanted to do, he turned his feet instead to one of the internal gardens in the Nightless City, brightly lit and shining, with a bench for him to sit and observe the designs, seeking calmness and clarity.

Maybe he could meditate a little. At least that would help pass the time -

“Congratulations on your victory.”

Lan Qiren raised his head, surprised out of the trance he’d settled info.

He had not expected anyone to find him in the garden where he was lurking, least of all Lao Nie.

“What victory?” he asked, and the older man grinned at him.

“Your imminent one, of course,” he said, gesturing for Lan Qiren to move over on the bench and settling down next to him once he complied. “That was a fantastic performance you gave earlier, and it wasn’t like we weren’t all expecting the Lan sect to win the music competition anyway.”

“Expecting the Lan sect to win doesn’t mean that I would be the one to win,” Lan Qiren mumbled, feeling his cheeks and ears go hot. “Arrogance –”

“Forbidden? Big surprise,” Lao Nie teased, and Lan Qiren ducked his head.

Technically, as a junior, he shouldn’t be acting overly familiar with sect leaders from other sects, but Lao Nie – no one ever called him Sect Leader Nie, and it wasn’t disrespect but fondness that drove them – was an exception to most rules. His Nie sect was longstanding allies of the Lan sect, and he himself was effortlessly charismatic, charming and gregarious. Even Lan Qiren’s brother admired him.

Lan Qiren also admired him.

It had been Lao Nie’s occasional intervention that had convinced his brother to take Lan Qiren along on some night-hunts when he’d been younger, and while they weren’t especially close by any means – Lan Qiren suspected he was currently simply too young to interest Lao Nie as an equal, as opposed to a junior in need of mentoring, and he longed to get old enough that that to no longer be an issue – Lao Nie was one of the few people Lan Qiren knew that had never minded indulging his eccentricities.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Lao Nie remarked. “With all your talk of travel, I would’ve thought you’d be out exploring the city.”

Lan Qiren’s mood, which had been starting to improve, plummeted.

“Hmm. Sore spot?”

Lan Qiren’s shoulders were up by his shoulders. “I shouldn’t complain.”

“That just means you want to,” Lao Nie said wisely, and nudged him a little with his shoulder. “Did you get ordered to stay behind? You? You never break the rules.”

“I didn’t break the rules! My teacher made a strong recommendation that I reconsider my selection for the independent performance portion of the competition…”

“And you didn’t take the suggestion?” Lao Nie was smiling. “What a show of rebellion.”

Lan Qiren flushed red again. He was being teased, he knew.

“Since you’ve already had one rebellion, why not another?”

Lan Qiren frowned, not understanding.

“Go out,” Lao Nie clarified, still smiling. “There’s still at least half a shichen before dinner; you could see some of the city, apologize later – no? Why not?”

Lan Qiren was shaking his head. “I promised I would listen to my brother,” he said simply. “He instructed me to listen to the teacher, and the teacher said to stay, so I’ll stay. Perhaps tomorrow he will yield and allow me to explore by myself.”

“By yourself?”

“It would trouble the other disciples to be associated with me until there’s been an appropriate opportunity to review my behavior and determine if punishment is required –”

Lao Nie shook his head. Presumably things were different in his Nie sect, as they often were.

“Well, if you really need some company to go out, let me know,” he said.

“I couldn’t presume –”

“I’m offering,” Lao Nie said firmly, and this was why he was Lan Qiren’s favorite sect leader other than his father. Sometimes, secretly, even more than his father. “Really, I don’t understand your sect sometimes. What’s the point of keeping you so restricted? You’re already an adolescent, you’re old enough to join your own night-hunts…you can go night-hunting, right?”

“I can,” Lan Qiren confirmed, because he really was old enough to have gone on his own - old enough to night-hunt and swear oaths, that first formal stage of adulthood - but then conceded, “With company, and permission from the sect. Otherwise, disciples are only permitted to leave the Cloud Recesses to visit family.”

“…your family is the Cloud Recesses, Qiren.”

Lan Qiren shrugged.

“Don’t you feel stifled by it?”

Most of the time, he didn’t. Lan Qiren truly loved his home: he loved the routine of it, the rules; the peacefulness, the predictability, and all the familiar people; he loved the comfort of knowing where everything was and why. There was no place in the world he would rather call home, not even if he had the rest of it placed at his feet.

Still, sometimes…

He shifted a little in his seat, and decided to be a little daring. It was only Lao Nie, after all. “Well, knowing I’ll be able to leave one day helps.”

Lao Nie laughed and reached out to pat Lan Qiren’s head. His hand was large and warm.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t consider a little adventure, earlier on…?” he asked, trailing off.

“No, Sect Leader,” Lan Qiren said, and he wasn’t even that regretful. “I promised my brother. It’s important to him, you know, that I not lose face for him and the sect, and that means it’s important to me. So I won’t. I wouldn’t do that to him.”

Someone cleared their throat.

Lan Qiren looked at the doorway even as Lao Nie pulled back his hand: it was Wen Ruohan, standing there with his hands behind his back, a false smile on his lips and his eyes glittering with some strange and inexplicable emotion. “Several of the other sect leaders are demanding that you come and settle a dispute,” he said to Lao Nie. “Assuming you’re not too busy.”

Lao Nie chuckled. “For my fellow sect leaders? Never. I’ll be along momentarily.”

Wen Ruohan nodded, surveying them both briefly – Lan Qiren felt strangely vulnerable beneath his gaze, and he didn’t know why – before turning away in a swirl of robes.

“He seemed angry,” Lan Qiren observed, wondering why, but Lao Nie was already shaking his head.

“Oh, Hanhan’s more bark than bite,” he said confidently, and Lan Qiren nearly choked. Hanhan? Who would call Wen Ruohan by a diminutive? And anyway, since when did Lao Nie do that – had their relationship changed since the Lan sect conference or something? “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him. Enjoy your upcoming triumph, Qiren!”

Lan Qiren didn’t bother to remind him once again that he was not sure to win, watching him go after Wen Ruohan with long, loping strides that Lan Qiren could only envy, his own frame gawky and still uncoordinated.

He sighed.

“ – such a fuss!” He could still hear Lao Nie in the distance, the older man’s voice carrying a little too far as always. “Really, Hanhan, haven’t you done enough already, with all those rumors that are always going around since last time…?”

A brief pause, murmurs in lower voices.

“ – more honored in the breach. Even in the Lan sect!”

And then there was laughter.

Lan Qiren wondered what Lao Nie meant by that. Was he talking about Lan Qiren? To Wen Ruohan?

Surely not.

[wesawbears]

Happy summer exchange season! This is for @autumnalpalmetto, who asked for Andrew friendship with the rest of the Foxes/Andreil for the @aftgexchange event.

I hope you enjoy!

--

At first, Andrew suspected it was just a bad day. A heaviness in his head, a fog that made him pay less attention to practice than normal. He brushed both Neil’s concern and Kevin’s anger off in equal measure, just wanting to get back to his room and sleep for the rest of the day.

Neil didn’t comment when he burrowed beneath his blankets and didn’t talk for the rest of the night. The junkie eventually left him to sleep and watched games with Kevin in his room, but Andrew could feel his eyes on him as he walked away. At the moment, he was too tired to muster up the energy to feel bad about pushing him away. Neil could handle Andrew’s moods.

His bad day theory was proven wrong when he woke up with a throbbing headache. He sits up, only to find the world was tilting a little bit. Groaning, he lays back down. “Fuck.”

Neil, insufferable morning person that he is, is already up and back from a run. Andrew can hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. The noise is for Andrew’s benefit; he knows if he wanted to Neil could do his whole morning routine in near silence, so used to being unseen. But he doesn’t want to startle Andrew. It’s as annoyingly considerate as it is unnecessary.

 He also knows without seeing that Neil’s getting two mugs of coffee, one for Andrew to wake him up before Neil goes to his 9:00 class, like he does every Thursday. “Don’t bother,” he tries to yell, but his voice comes out a thin, papery rasp.

Neil comes into the room then, before stopping short at the door. “You look like shit.”

“I’m not sick,” he says immediately.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Neil answers, turning on his heel and heading back into the kitchen.

“I don’t like tea,”

“Can’t hear you. I’m in the kitchen.”

Andrew wants to scream, but can’t muster the energy, so he just settles back against the headboard and closes his eyes.

A few minutes later, Neil is there, handing him a thermos of tea. He can barely taste it, which is ideal, but he can tell Neil put a truly obscene amount of honey in it. His throat still feels like it’s been shredded when he swallows, but he hides his grimace. 

At least, he thinks he does. Neil’s face says otherwise. Or maybe Neil is just obnoxiously good at reading him.

“Shut up,” he rasps.

“Didn’t say anything,” Neil quips back.

“Your face speaks volumes.”

Neil smiles like it’s a love confession. “I’ll tell Coach you won’t be at practice.”

“Letting me play hooky, captain?”

“It’s a liability if you pass out. Lots of paperwork.” His face softens then. “I’ll come check on you later.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know.”

Andrew doesn’t know if it’s being sick, or the discomfiting feeling of being...looked after that makes him feel like heaving, but he shuts his eyes in an effort to make it leave. He hears the click of the door shutting as Neil leaves and breathes out.

--

Kevin gets back from his own class about an hour later, and Andrew wakes at the sound of the door opening.

. “Neil was right- you do look like shit.”

“Unlike with Neil, I will throw this thermos at your head.”

Apparently it didn’t come across with the bite Andrew had intended, because Kevin just scoffs and throws something at him.

“Cold medicine?” 

Kevin shrugs. “You’re too stubborn to take it on your own. So I’ll just stand here until that happens.”

He swallows the pills with the last drops of tea, wincing as they scrape his throat. “Did Neil put you up to this?”

“You think Neil would think of using medicine? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s never heard of cold medicine.”

Andrew grunts in assent, turning the thought over as Kevin retreats into his bedroom. If Neil didn’t put him up to it, Andrew doesn’t know what sparked Kevin’s sudden concern for his wellbeing. It was a cold. He wasn’t dying. 

He had half convinced himself it was all a fever dream when he heard a knock. “Who’sit?”

The person didn’t bother answering, opening the door where Kevin had left it unlocked. 

Andrew purses his lips. “I didn’t know a cold would turn my room into fucking Grand Central.”

“Relax. I’ll be gone in like two minutes.”

He watches as Aaron walks past him to the kitchen. “Nicky got you ice cream, even though I told him that dairy just makes sore throats worse. He wanted to bring it himself, but I told him the last thing you would want was him buzzing around.  Here are some crackers if you get hungry.”

He was gone as soon as he’d arrived, and Andrew settles back under his blankets for a nap. When he wakes to a soft knock at the door, he glances at his phone and sees it’s close to dinner time.

“It’s me,” he hears, and recognizes Renee’s voice. “I’ll only be a minute.”

He thinks he mumbles, “Come in”. 

“I brought you some soup, when you’re feeling up to it. And Dan, Allison, and Matt offered some of their DVDs in case you get bored. Allison says that bad movies are the best cure for a cold.”

He hums at that. “I think most doctors would disagree.”

Renee chuckles lightly at that. “Yes, well. They’re trying.”

He doesn’t know whether he wants to ask why. It seems a pointless question. “They know I probably wouldn’t do the same for them.”

Renee smiles. “They know. But I don’t suspect that that’s why they’re doing this.” She pauses at the door, evidently not expecting an answer. “Feel better, Andrew.”

--

Neil makes his reappearance shortly after that, once he’s done ending his day running drills with the freshmen strikers. 

“You missed quite the parade in here,” Andrew greets him.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, making his way up to the loft.

“Yes. Kept me from taking the nap I wanted.”

“I don’t know. You looked pretty dead to the world when I came in earlier to check on you.”

“Well, I didn’t have to keep up with you running your mouth. That preserves energy.”

“You like my mouth,” Neil smirks, leaning in and stopping short of his mouth. “Yes?”

“You’ll get sick.”

“I don’t care. We have plenty of provisions.”

Andrew closes the gap with a short kiss. “I’m not sharing my soup. Or my ice cream.”

“Rude.”

Andrew doesn’t have the energy to deal with the look on Neil’s face, so he pushes his face away lightly. “That’s it for tonight.”

“Do you want me to sleep in my bed?” 

From anyone else, it would come across petulant, but Andrew knows Neil means it. He also doesn’t have the energy to parse through the jolt that goes through him at the idea of Neil not being next to him.

Instead of voicing that, he shrugs. “Don’t whine when you get sick.”

Neil doesn’t answer, simply settling in next to him.

Andrew closes his eyes. “And don’t keep me awake with your staring.”

“Go to sleep, Andrew.”

He drifts off to the feeling of Neil’s hand in his hair, and the warmth of his body next to him. He knows the comfort won’t last, and he won’t always be okay with this,  but for now, it’s enough.

[literary-creature]

Our Days in New York: Chapter 4

December 10th, 1926

The president had granted Newt permission to have the creatures in New York, but the concession came with a bothersome condition: He was supposed to have the suitcase checked every day, to make sure no beast was missing. He had also been politely asked to confirm his day of return to London. It was obvious MACUSA couldn’t wait to be rid of him; not that he blamed them.

Newt hadn’t intended to extend his visit to New York longer than four or five days, his sole objective being bringing Frank home, but he found himself rescheduling his trip for a few days later than planned. He felt a little guilty about abusing the Goldsteins’ hospitality, but he didn’t want to leave so soon. And unlike the president and the auror department, the sisters didn’t seem in a hurry to see him gone.

Like the previous morning, he had breakfast with Tina and Queenie, and then the three of them apparated to MACUSA premises together. Tina had lingered before getting into the elevator to instruct him on how to get past Mrs.Esposito, since they wouldn’t be there to let him in, and wish him a good day.

The same two aurors he had met the day before followed him inside the case, both as terrified as the last time. The niffler attempting to steal one of the men’s pocket watch didn’t help. The auror tried to maintain composure, but he was jumpy for the rest of the “examination”. Half an hour later, Newt was free to go, to everyone’s relief.

After coming back to the apartment, he got straight into the suitcase, ready to spend some quality time with his creatures. The past days had been busy, and there were plenty of things that needed to be done.

The day went by quietly; he did his usual rounds, feeding the creatures and cleaning the enclosures, making only a short pause to eat some lunch. It looked like things were going back to normal for him. Except for the fact that he kept checking on the clock with peculiar obsessiveness. He wondered if Tina would come downstairs after work. Probably not. She was bound to be kept working late again, and she would be too tired when she came back. But he could still see her for dinner, and he was looking forward to it.

She had promised Pickett she would visit him soon, so she was planning on coming again. He was eager to show her around some more, and also anxious to hear about the outcomes of his meeting with Pickery. Had the president made a decision yet? Had she talked to Tina about it?

Newt finished all his chores faster than he had anticipated and decided to use the time to reorganize his supplies and his shed. He was running low on certain potions and ingredients, and some shelves needed to be cleaned. He got into the activity for what appeared to be a long time, but when he threw a look at the clock again, dinner time was still hours away.

Impatient, he sat down to work on his book. Most of the information he had collected was documented in his journal, but he had many sketches and notes laying around and he had to sort through them, something he never got the time to do. He remembered Tina had liked his sketches.

What would she think of his book? Would she like it? She must be an avid reader, since she was the owner of the majority of the books in the small apartment, as far as he could tell. The volumes he had seen were on charms or defensive spells, some novels, and he had also noticed one on occlumency. Judging by that, he concluded she was interested in a variety of topics, so she might enjoy learning some more about magical creatures.

He managed to revise and classify a decent amount of the papers, but the long sessions of desk work always left him a headache. To vary the occupation, he started to prepare the creatures’ meals, despite the evening rounds not being for another hour. He laid all the buckets in a line a few meters away from the shed, and started to fill them in the usual order: Every creature had a ration according to the species, weight, and condition; so the task required some concentration. He was so absorbed in it, he didn’t hear a pair of careful feet walking downstairs until the guest made herself notice.

“Newt?”

The man raized her head, startled, and found Tina shyly staring at him from the door of the shed.

“Tina, you’re home already.” he grinned at her, feeling a strange nervousness taking hold of him. Tina stood where she was, as though waiting for his permission to step into his world. She had come after all. He had to say something, be welcoming. “I imagined you wouldn’t be here for at least two more hours. I’m glad they didn’t keep you working so late again.”

His smile and his words seemed to encourage her, for she came closer. “I knocked, but I guessed you wouldn't be in the shed, so I let myself in,” she explained, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. He had perceived she tended to do that when she was nervous or self-conscious. “I hope I'm not bothering you.” she added, looking anxious at the thought.

“Of course you don’t bother me, quite the opposite…” he replied in a rush, almost letting the bucket fall in his haste of making it clear. He managed to straighten it in the last second, but a good amount of pellets fell in all directions, making him blush. Newt wished, not for the first time, to be able to behave like a normal human being. “What I mean is that you are welcome to come here whenever you like.”

He realized that his words had surprised her. He was surprised himself, but as soon as he said it he knew he meant it: He wouldn’t mind at all if she came more often. In fact, he would like it.

Tina rewarded him with a big smile. “I'll keep that in mind then,” she said softly, sending the pellets back to the bucket with an effortless flick of her wand. Her gaze traveled through the line of buckets before turning to him once more. “I was promised bowltruckles yesterday, but I see you're busy now. May I help you with something?”

“I was preparing things for the feeding rounds, but it's early. We can pay a visit to the bowltruckles now if you want,” he told her, wiping his hand with a cloth. “Pickett, Tina’s here.”

The bowltruckle's head popped out of his pocket, chirping in delight at seeing the woman. Newt extended his arm, gesturing for Tina to take him.

“Hi, Pick.” she greeted, taking him from Newt’s hand and brushing his fingers in the process. It was a mere moment, but the contact produced an unknown tingling sensation on his hand that lingered even after she took hers away. It felt soft, just as demiguise fur would. Had it happened the last (and only) time he had touched her hand? He wasn’t sure. He had the sudden urge to observe it from up close, trace it with his fingers, and discover where those tingles had come from, see if it happened again. The pale hand was now holding Pickett, oblivious to its magical effect. The bowltruckle was sitting on it, having a chat with Tina.

“You've made quite an impression on him,” Newt commented, hiding his hand behind his back, clueless as to what to do with it.

“He's made an impression on me as well,” she declared fondly, showing the creature to the pocket of her light coat. “I came prepared today, and I have enough room for you. Do you want to stay in my coat for a bit?”

Pickett was happy to comply.

“Shall we…? The tree?”

“I’d like that.”

Newt guided her through the habitats, just like her first visit. That day she had been in a permanent state of alert, unnerved by the alien environment. This time she seemed to be more at ease, excited even. Her eyes wandered around, curious, and brighter than he had ever seen them.

“Queenie may come for a bit later,” Tina said suddenly. “She wanted to finish the dress she was sewing. I hope she does come, it might cheer her up.”

“She’s been sad because of Jacob, hasn’t she?”

“Yes, she…Did she say something to you?” she inquired, anxious.

“She mentioned Jacob yesterday. It was accidental, and for a moment she was…” he didn’t know how to explain it. “But before I could say anything she just…went back to being happy again, as nothing had happened.”

Tina sighed. “She’s been doing that a lot. Queenie’s not like that, she’s usually very open with her feelings,” she continued. “She hasn’t talked to me either, and I’m getting worried.”

“She might need some time. I’m sure she’ll open up when she’s ready.”

“I guess.” For a second he thought she was going to tell him something else, but she bit her lip and stayed silent. Somehow he knew that his words hadn’t been of any use. He sensed that Tina’s concern run deeper than she was letting through, but she didn’t wish to share it. He wished to help her, but he was aware giving advice wasn’t his strong suit. So even if Tina confided him her troubles, he wouldn’t know what to tell her. What he could offer was some distraction and comfort in his world, and that he was decided to provide. He made up his mind to make sure Tina had a good time while she was there.

The bowltruckles’ tree was bursting with activity, pairs of green limbs moving around, climbing, and playing among themselves. A waterfall of chirps welcomed them into the space.

“Hello.” Newt extended his arms and the six bowltruckles climbed up. “I brought a visitor today. This is Tina.”

The small heads turned to examine her, emitting chirps of curiosity. Tina, who had stayed behind him, moved closer.

“You want to go say hi?”

Before the creatures could move, Pickett climbed out of Tina's pocket to stand protectively on her shoulder, chirping in distress.

“Pickett, Tina can have as many friends as she wants. She’s not only yours.” Newt scolded. “What did we say about getting jealous?”

“That’s right Pick, I want to meet everyone,” she told him, with her most gentle voice. “Can you introduce me? Please?”

Pickett didn’t like it one bit, but at Tina’s insistence, he addressed the other bowltruckles, inviting them to join in. Two of the creatures moved through Newt’s arm and climbed onto Tina’s. She kept her arm stretched, afraid to move and make them fall.

“Hi, there.” she smiled. “Who are these two?”

“The taller one is Marlow, the other is Poppy.”

Encouraged by them, the others went to watch this new human from up close. Tina tried to stay immobile as they walked over her shoulders and head, played hide and seek in her hair and dip inside her pockets and her collar. She observed with interest the way they interacted with each other. Newt admired her tact to get Pickett to engage with the others.

“I think Tom got caught in my hair. Won’t you help him Pick?”

“There’s room for two in my pocket, you can go play there if you like. Pickett can show you the way.”

“I’m sure Pickett would like to join the game, right?”

As serious and reserved as he had come to know her, she was now smiling openly. He thought, once more, that she looked adorable like that, comfortable and free.

“There’s one at the back of my head that’s tickling me and I can’t move.” she sniggered, addressing Newt. “Help.”

“Oh, yes sorry.” he stepped up and produced a squealing bowltruckle out of Tina’s hair. It was silky and had a faint smell of lavenders that was very pleasant. He could understand why the bowltruckles liked it. “Very funny, mister.” he admonished, pulling Titus over his own shoulder.

“I should be starting with the feedings.” he communicated her, apologetic. “But you can stay here with them if you want.”

He caught the disappointment in her expression, and he felt disoriented. What had he said now? He revised his behavior of the last fifteen minutes and he came up with nothing. Maybe she preferred to go back upstairs, or didn’t want to remain in the case alone with the creatures?

“You don’t have to stay.” he blurted out, earning a confused look from the woman. “No, that’s not…what I mean is that you are welcomed to stay, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” he finished with a hopeless stutter.

Tina bit her lip, looking hesitant. “Actually… I was wondering if I could go with you?”

“To… do the feeding rounds?”

“I would like to meet the rest of the creatures,” she explained, uncertain, as to if expecting him to refuse. “I promise I won’t slow you down.” she quickly added. “I can even help if you tell me how. And if it’s not too much trouble for you, of course.”

“Not at all, you can come to help me if you wish,” he reassured her, “Or watch. Whatever you prefer. I thought you would be too tired, so I didn’t…”

“I’m not tired at all,” she said immediately.

“Then I’d appreciate the help,” he repeated, joyful. He hadn’t dared to invite her, but she had asked for it herself. That was good. "Everybody, back to the tree."

Various disappointed chirps were heard, to Tina's amusement.

“Why don't you stay Pick?” she suggested, with an innocent tone that was very convincing. “We’ll do the feedings and we come back for you later.” To Newt’s amazement, the bowltruckle accepted.

“What do we have to do first, Newt?”

“I usually start with the erumpent, she's the one who gets more impatient,” he informed her. “From there we could do the augurey, the knarls, and the graphorns. And we go from there.”

“Sounds good.”

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

An hour later they had gone through most of the creatures, and Tina's enthusiasm hadn't dampened in the least. She had left her coat in the shed’s rack, rolled up her sleeves, and showed herself ready to work.

She listened carefully to all his indications, following them with more skill than he had expected from her. Tina was still wary of some of the case’s inhabitants, but she wasn’t scared anymore. She spoke little, focused on the tasks at hand; every time she opened her mouth was to ask questions. Newt had never invited people into the case, any less had a person help him before, but her presence didn't feel invasive or uncomfortable.

He spoke about every creature's habits and meals, instructing her on how to take care of them. Her questions got him to talk about his travels, something he had never discussed with anyone before. He gave a quick account of his last year in the field, telling her various stories of his adventures and findings in distant places. He discovered another thing about Tina: She was a good listener. And it felt good, more than good, to have someone interested in what he could do. Someone who didn’t judge or underestimated his work.

Newt was in the middle of his trip to Egypt when he realized he was talking too much. Tina was standing by the occamies’ nest, contemplating one of the creatures curling around her arm, and apparently unbothered by his rambling. But Newt’s objective was to make her talk more, not focus all of the attention on himself. He had complained on numerous occasions about the condescending and self-absorbed ministry officials, all too busy talking about themselves to pay attention to anyone else. And first chance he got, he was behaving in the same disregarding way.

Tina sent him a puzzled look when he interrupted the story. “What's wrong?” she asked, taking in his flushed face.

“I was...I'm talking too much, am I not? I’m terribly sorry, I'm afraid I get carried away sometimes.” he apologized, embarrassed. “I must be boring you.”

“I don't find it boring at all,” she assured him, looking concerned. “What makes you believe that? Was it something I said?”

“No, that’s not what I…” he was making it even worse. Newt took a breath and tried to concentrate on what he wanted to say. “I know I can get annoying when I start to speak about magical creatures, I’ve been told on several occasions. I wanted to be sure I was not importunating you with my talk.”

“You’re not annoying,” she promised. “I've never been out of New York, except to go to school. And I’ve never met someone who had traveled like you; your stories sound pretty fascinating to me.”

Fascinating. She found his stories fascinating. It was so pleasing to hear her say so. “Just for school? You never had to travel for work?”

“Not really. I remember I went to Washington for a conference when I was a trainee, but I saw nothing of the city. My job was always here.” she told him, getting the occamy back to the nest. “I was never assigned to cases that involved international cooperation, those were for the more experienced aurors. I always imagined I would have the chance one day, but…” she interrupted the phrase with a sigh. “So I only know New York and Massachusetts.”

“Is that where Ilvermorny is?”

“Yes. At the top of Mount Greylock,” she said. “It's a great school. I know Europeans have a very high opinion of Hogwarts.”

“Because Hogwarts is the best school,” he replied with a cheeky smile, while he fed the hungry creatures some more insects.

“How could you know? You've never been to Ilvermorny.” she retorted. “Hogwarts is in Scotland, right?”

“It is. The school grounds are wonderful, especially in spring. There's a forest, but students are not allowed to go. Forbidden forest, we called it. It’s full of magical creatures; centaurs, unicorns.”

“I’m sure the word forbidden wasn’t enough to discourage you.” she chuckled. “You were interested in magical creatures since your childhood, then?”

“It's the one thing I've ever been good at,” Newt affirmed. “And you guessed correctly, I couldn’t stay away from the forest. I got detention tons of times for going there to do research. Most of the students thought I was weird. I had just one friend, so I spent a lot of time on my own.”

He had no idea why he was telling her about that. He hadn’t talked about school in at least a decade, and he barely thought of it anymore. Newt was halfway expecting a look of pity, or a comment trying to minimize the situation, but she surprised him once more. Tina listened with a serious expression, but in her eyes, there was nothing but sympathy.

“I was the weird one at school as well,” she confessed with a grimace. “I took my education very seriously. Our parents left us very little money, and we didn't have anybody else to turn to. I had Queenie to look out for, and I was aware that as soon as school was over I would have to find a way to keep a roof over our heads. I needed to make an effort if I intended to sustain us both.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure for a kid,” he commented, more to himself than to her. Queenie had mentioned they had lost their parents being young, but he had never stopped to consider what that must have meant for Tina, being the elder sister.

“I suppose it was, but I always knew what I wanted: A spot at the MACUSA auror training program. They only accepted people with perfect grades, and there were almost no women, so I studied very hard. My classmates thought I was distant and boring. They didn’t dare bully me that much because I was in the dueling club and I had a reputation.” she added with a proud smirk. “There was always Queenie, but she had friends of her own. She was so popular in school. All the boys wanted to date her, all the girls wanted to be her, people loved her. I didn’t want her to relinquish that just because her sister was incompetent when it came to interacting with other kids. I spent a lot of time hiding in the library.”

“The library is a good hiding spot, isn't it?” he agreed. “I had other places because the librarian didn't allow creatures. But that’s not unusual in libraries, I guess.”

He remembered vividly the afternoons when he would set his refuge in one of the school's many unused classrooms, nursing magical and non-magical animals back to health, and taking notes on their habits and preferences. Leta would join him sometimes.

He hadn’t revisited those memories in a long time. In the beginning, because they had come to be too bitter, and he was not willing to indulge in self-pity. Leta's company was welcomed at the time but left him feeling drained after a while. Queenie was right about her being a taker, but he had never been capable of hating her for it. Leta was hurting, and time had made him realize her pain was one he could not cure. Years had gone by, and the memories had become something distant, not fitting in his busy everyday life. But he had kept her picture, the last object that tied him to the only human friend he had ever known.

He imagined he was back in one of those dusty classrooms, a young Tina sitting by his side with a book in her hands. Both of them studying hard to follow their dreams, but keeping each other company. Perhaps Tina and Leta would have understood each other as well, for they both knew what it was like to be without the support of a loving family. It would have been nice to meet her back then.

“What's on your mind?”

“I was just thinking it's such a pity we went to school on different sides of the world." his comment sounded out of nowhere. He tried to clarify. “We could have been friends. You know, be the weird kids together.”

His reasoning brought a flick of some unidentifiable emotion to her eyes, but it was gone before he had managed to catalog it. She pursed her lips, in thought.

“Well, I don't know. Back then, I didn't associate with troublemakers,” she declared, playfully turning up her nose at him. “You would have corrupted me.”

Newt chuckled at the unexpected answer. “Or you would have brought some sense into me, who knows? To be fair you get in trouble pretty well without my help, though.”

“How dare you?” she chorted, magicking away some specks of dirt in her white shirt. “And I doubt I'd be capable of getting some sense into you even now that we're adults.”

“I was slightly more docile as a kid, the possibility was there.”

“But even if we had been in the same school we may have not known each other.” she reasoned. “We are some years apart, I think?”

“Hadn’t thought of that. I'm twenty-nine.”

“I'm twenty-five.”

“So when you started school I was around fifteen or sixteen,” he said thoughtfully. “Yes, maybe the age difference would have been a problem.”

“Maybe,” she muttered, a smile on her face. “Shall we move on to the next enclosure? How many creatures do we have left?”

“Not many. Let's go feed Dougal first, I haven't seen him since morning. Then we have to take care of the niffler and the mooncalves and we're done.”

Tina nodded and started to pick the buckets. He didn’t know what impressed him the most: Her energy to work and deal with the creatures, or her willpower to put up with him alone for so long. Not only was she comfortable, but also eager to keep the conversation going.

“Tell me more about Hogwarts,” she asked while they were walking. “How is it like? Some things in Ilvermorny were based in that school of yours, I believe.”

“Well, there are four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin; named after the four founders. Students are selected depending on their qualities and aptitudes, and each house is represented by an animal.”

“Which house were you in?”

“Hufflepuff. It values hard work, patience, and loyalty. What are Ilvermorny houses like?”

“They are named after magical creatures: Pukwudgie, Horned Serpent, Wampus, and Thunderbird.”

“I didn’t know that. How come America has a ban over magical creatures, but they named their school houses after them?”

“Things were not always like this,” she explained. “The founder was Irish. She grew up hearing about Hogwarts, but could never attend herself. The school was named after her parent's house. She, her husband, and her two sons each picked their favorite magical creature for the houses, and each one of them represents a part of the wizard. I was a thunderbird. It represents the soul, it’s said to be the house of adventurers.”

A thunderbird. A creature known by being intelligent, brave and noble. It sounded like Tina.

Before he could get carried away by those thoughts, he identified a presence close to his leg.

“Dougal.” he murmured. “We've got you dinner. Show yourself please.”

The creature materialized a few steps from Newt, his expressive eyes focused on Tina, questioning.

“You remember Tina, right?”

In all answer, Dougal approached the witch and gestured for her to take his hand. Tina did, careful not to startle him.

“He did this thing with his eyes again,” she whispered to him, frozen in place. “Do you think he saw something about me? About my future?”

“That's possible,” he whispered back. “But whatever he saw, it can be bad if he's reacting like that.”

Tina sat down on a rock, and Dougal followed her, making himself comfortable by her side. She offered him her hand full of insects and watched fascinated as the demiguise picked one at a time, and brought them to his mouth with a slow movement.

“This will take a while,” he moved to stand near the rock, hoping they could speak some more. “He likes to savor his food.”

His closeness made Tina snap out of her trance. “You were telling me about Hogwarts.”

“I would like to hear more about Ilvermorny as well, if you don’t mind” he requested. “How are you selected for the houses?”

“There are four statues, one for each creature. We stand in front of them and wait for one to react. If you are selected by more than one statue you can choose where to go. The thunderbird statue moves its wings when it wants a student. How do you get selected in Hogwarts?”

“We have a sorting hat, it…”

“A hat?” she interrupted, incredulous. “You're selected by a hat?”

“At the beginning, each founder selected the kids they considered worthy and took them as students. At some point, they decided to enchant the hat together, to make sure future students would be divided according to their personal preferences after their deaths.” he narrated, enthusiastic. “Every year, during the opening banquet, first years sit on a stool, and the hat is placed on their heads. It knows where to send them in a matter of minutes. Then he announces it to the whole school and they can go sit with the rest of their house. But the hat’s desition is irrevocable, it doesn’t give anyone the chance to choose.”

“You have to admit our statues are more impressive.”

“An intelligent hat is pretty impressive.” he protested. “I bet the founder of Ilvermorny didn’t think of that.”

Tina rolled her eyes good-naturedly, watching the creature finishing his food. “Sure, whatever you say. Was it tasty Dougal?”

The demiguise held her gaze for a moment and then pointed his finger to the side of the rock. Both Newt and Tina followed his indication, but it was him who spotted what the Dougal had found first: Something black, curled like a ball.

“What are you doing there? You’re not trying to steal Tina’s locket again, are you?”

Seeing himself discovered, the niffler came out of hiding and gave a squeak. He approached Tina, sniffling her calf.

“I was wondering if I would see you.” Tina smiled. "I have a gift for you.”

She reached into her shirt pocket and took out a golden earring, shaped like a flower, with tiny pearls in the center. She came down from the rock, sitting next to the niffler, and offered the small ornament to him.

He immediately grabbed it and hid it into his pouch, as if waiting for her to change her mind. When he understood the woman had no intention of reclaiming it back, he approached her again, nuzzling her fingers. She caressed the creature's shiny black fur, under Newt's enchanted stare.

“You didn't have to...”

“Oh, it's fine. Queenie lost the other one weeks ago, so I asked her if the niffler could have it,” she replied. “Figured it would be the most infallible method to make friends with this one.”

The niffler must have heard her, for he climbed onto her lap, and curled against her shirt. He had never done such a thing before.

“I would say it did work.”

“The first time I came down here he wasn’t scared of me either,” Tina told him, scratching the niffler’s stomach, and he changed his position to allow her. “I thought it was rather odd because I was a total stranger to him.”

“Animals have good instincts. He knows you’re good, so he trusts you Tina.”

Tina’s hair was a little disheveled, her shirt, despite her best efforts, was stained, and her shoes were covered in dust. Her eyes were wide opened, as full of wonder as a child’s would be, while she petted the creature on her lap. It was a lovely picture. At that very moment, she looked lovely.

“Newt? Teenie?” Queenie’s voice made them both jump.

“Queenie,” Tina exclaimed, lifting the niffler into her arms so she could get up. “We’re here!”

A minute later, the younger Goldstein’s blonde curls came in sight. “There you are! And what do we have here?” she gestured to the niffler in her sister’s arm.

“He liked your earring a lot, so now I have a friend,” Tina answered, happy. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Did you have trouble finding us?” Newt asked. “I should have asked Dougal to stay in the shed to show you the way, I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”

“It wasn’t a problem, I followed your thoughts,” she commented, nonchalantly. “You’re loud.”

“I…Am I?” he stuttered. Did that mean she had heard what she was thinking about Tina?

Queenie’s smile suggested just that. “Oh, don’t you worry about it, honey! You know, I’ve found shy people’s minds are usually the loudest. Teenie is pretty loud too. Besides, your thoughts are always so nice…”

“Queen, I don’t think he wants to share the workings of his mind right now.” Tina interrupted, staring severely at her. “We’re not done with the feedings.”

“Tina was helping me with the creatures,” Newt mumbled, self-conscious. “We were about to go for the mooncalves. Would you like to join us?”

“Sure.”

“Can I bring the niffler?” Tina asked. “I believe he’s dozing off. I don’t have the heart to put him down.”

“You can. I have to warn you, though: There’s a chance he’s feigning sleep to steal from you.”

You can also find this chapter in AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/36348679/chapters/92471428

“I’ll be careful, I promise.” she laughed, scratching the furry head. “Let’s go then. You’re gonna love it, Queenie!”

Hi! I'm sorry it's taking me so long to update. I've had this chapter completely written and waiting for edition for two weeks, but no time to sit down and do it. The good news is I have chapter 5 halfway written, so let's hope I can post it sooner.

By the way, the last two chapters were centered on Newt, but we're going back to Tina next time.

Thanks for reading! 😊

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte’s One More Wedding Event (full release)that should have just came out in Japanese Version. Could you translate it or summarize it, please? Thank you for your time.

I can't believe you want to give me this kind of power, but if you insist 😂💛

That being said, because my translation skills are rough at best, I'll be summarizing and selecting specific parts to discuss if I feel a need to quote directly.

If you don't want spoilers for Comte ES, run!

Y'all. Y'ALL. REEEEEEEEE I LOVE HIM. NOBODY LOOK AT ME I'VE BEEN CRYING ON AND OFF FOR DAYS

ANYWAY

So this particular event begins with MC bringing Comte a letter as he thanks her. One glance at the return address tells him that it's a pureblood gathering invitation, and upon opening it he's right. He shrugs it off and says he'll reply to it later, setting it aside.

MC, perceptive as ever, asks if he's declining the invitation. Comte explains the nature of the party and how only purebloods are allowed to end. Furthermore, the gathering takes place on their first wedding anniversary--and he would much prefer to spend the day with her.

Comte: “MC, any gorgeous evening party–no matter how beautiful–means nothing to me without my wife at my side. The place I belong is with you.”

MC: “Er…”

His gold eyes are steady and unwavering as he looks at me, and my heart skips a beat.

Comte: “Anywho I have no intention of attending this party, as it also overlaps with the date of our anniversary. Our first wedding anniversary is an important day, and I want to spend it with my beloved wife.”

Comte smiles winningly, all while staring straight at me.

MC, however, finds herself conflicted. Given how little she knows about purebloods, she wishes she could attend the party to better understand him and the community he's a part of. She admits this, to Comte's great surprise, but feels bad about it because she doesn't mean to ask something impossible of him. (One of the requirements of the party is that you have to be a pureblood vampire to be invited. ON WEDNESDAYS WE WEAR PINK) Comte clarifies that--because she's his wife--she's welcome to attend alongside him. He offers to take her with him if that's what she wants.

MC: “Are you really sure it’s okay for me to go, though?”

Comte: “Certainly. But I would never force you if you were uncomfortable, of course.”

MC: “No, I don’t hate the idea!”

Comte: “But I’d understand if being surrounded by purebloods would be rather nerve-wracking for you…And so many of them have a superiority complex a mile wide; they’re a prideful bunch. While it may not be all of us, there are enough that it might be stifling for you to be around them.”

Comte: “In light of all that, are you certain you still wish to go?”

[I know he’s just doing his best to prepare me for what I might face at a party like this--he doesn’t want me going in with the wrong idea. It’s very likely he had intended to decline the invitation to spare me the discomfort, and the burden of making a choice that would affect/limit him too. The concern in his features makes me melt.]

The part I love most about this scene is that this is just the beginning of so many attempts on his part to prepare her realistically, but also support her decision. As much as he wants to go with her he's never going to put her in the position of deciding for the both of them. He knows there's a great deal of pressure to face among such a forbidding/traditional society, and if she needs more time to prepare for that--he wants to give her the space to get used to something so unfamiliar. In truth, I don't see him ever asking her to go if she didn't want to--even if it stung to have that part of him rejected...

MC considers for a moment, but she's resolved to understand him and his people better. She explains as much, and Comte brightens at the confession.

MC: “I’m sorry if it’s a bit much to ask of you, but thank you…!”

Comte: “I should be the one thanking you, now I look forward to the gathering.”

MC: “You’re…looking forward to it?”

When I tilt my head quizzically, le Comte draws me close with a faint smile on his lips.

Comte: “I’m excited to introduce you as my wife.” (SCREAMS AND CRIES)

This gets INSANELY cute because he gathers her close to him and she just gets very bashful about it. She apologizes--saying she knows she should be more used to it given they've already been married a year now, but his response is so sweet: “Why apologize? I’ve always thought my wife is the cutest.”

They both think back to their wedding ceremony at the mention of how long they've been together, and MC's eyes find the flower pins she gifted him on top of his hourglass (which fking one he has like 300).

Some background for anyone unaware: when Comte and MC got married, MC gifted him these flower pins--they were flowers that were preserved (in metal I think? idk exactly how it works they just look metallic in his outfit art). She explains that they're an attempt to symbolize her love for him, in that she intends to remain unchanging in her feelings forever. I find it's also an apt metaphor for MC herself; it's not unlike her agreement to become a vampire to stay with him.

MC: “You’ve been taking good care of the flowers I gave you.”

Right next to the hourglass lie the preserved flowers I gave him. They gleam in the light with ease, clearly polished and looked after–not a speck of dust on them.

Comte: “With those you swore your love to me. Isn’t it only natural that I’d take good care of them?” (LISTEN COMTE YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THE REALITY OF THE MALE SPECIES QUIT PLAYIN)

After that scene there's a timeskip to the night of the party--and after everyone celebrates their anniversary in the mansion all day--they hop in a carriage. MC is a little lost in thought, preparing herself for what's to come. When he asks if she's nervous she fully admits to it, but with a caveat. She's nervous because she doesn't know what to expect and she's concerned about committing a social faux pas, but she's not afraid or anxious.

Before I came to this time I had absolutely no concept of what an elaborate dinner party looked like–and besides which, this time it’s going to be a room full of purebloods. I’m nervous, sure, because I’ve never done this before--but it’s not quite anxiety or fear.

MC: “As long as you’re beside me, I’m invincible–anytime, anywhere.”

I can navigate anything: unfamiliar social circles, even an entirely new era of time. Because Comte is always so steady and reliable, always there for me, my anxiety ebbs and I can shine–be the very best I can be.

Comte: “MC…”

Comte looks absolutely moved by what I have to say, directing a gentle, tender look at me.

Comte reiterates his previous warning, that they might be weirdos and/or rude because they're stuck in their ways. He knows their discriminatory nature is wrong, but he believes in her ability to overcome those things--and fully intends to support her. He also lets her know what to expect in terms of the schedule: mostly mingling, and dancing is reserved for the very end of the party only.

Gatsby hour begins and MC marvels at the enormous venue sparsely populated by people dressed to the nines (I can only imagine how Comte dressed her up for this event in light of that LMFAO). Comte tells her he's going to get some drinks, and MC agrees to wait for him. In a classic lowkey queen move, she retreats against a nearby wall to take in her surroundings. She feels a certain intensity to be surrounded by people who look so young and beautiful, and yet carry the experience of lifetimes within them. She also notes the slightest permeating scent of blood in the air, assuming most of the people in attendance are drinking Rouge in their wine glasses.

When Comte returns to her, he offers her a glass of red wine, and she takes it with a smile.

MEAN GIRLS TIME!!!!!

So these two ladies approach le Comte yelling about how long it's been since they've seen him, and about the rumors that he got married. Without missing a beat he confirms it's true, and introduces MC to them as his wife. MC offers a greeting and a curtsy, but the women openly spurn her because she's not a vampire lmao. ("Who put you on the planet" energy, essentially). I still can't tell if they were acting like insane mother-in-laws on Comte's behalf, or out of jealousy--or weirdly both.

All casual dismissal, the women sashay away from us, dresses swishing.

[It seems like I really won’t be accepted as Comte’s life partner so long as I remain human…]

Comte: “…I’m sorry. I’m afraid that is the usual attitude of pureblood vampires. Not all of us are like that, but they still made you feel uncomfortable ;;;;”

MC: “That’s not something to apologize for. I’m happy to attend such a lovely party as your wife.”

I don’t want to ruin the occasion for him, so I beam at him.

Comte: “MC…” His lips descend close to my ear, pressing the lightest kiss against it.

Comte: “Thank you, MC…I’m happy, too.”

While Comte is full of uwus and love for his wife, she notes he stops there--likely because it's a public venue. (And I'd wager respectability politics, given a lot of old school people tend to say horrible things at the slightest sign of PDA lol. It would give them all the more reason to be nasty to MC.) MC notes that no matter how small the gesture or how often he extends his affection, it always sets her heart racing (what a damn mood) and they both gear up to greet everyone else. They're both like ganbatte!!! at each other and it's really cute, haha.

[No matter how many times he does things like this, I’m always caught off guard. I imagine we’ll be this way forever…]

Comte: “Here we go, the party’s only just begun. Let’s get to it and enjoy ourselves. No need to hesitate, it’s our wedding anniversary after all–this is a time for you to smile.”

MC: “Haha, thank you very much! Then I’ll definitely enjoy it to the fullest!”

We continue to greet and chat with other purebloods, the night goes on while I sample some of their food–

At some point MC separates from Comte to use the restroom. When she exits to rejoin the crowd, she hears the voices of those two women that openly rejected her earlier. They basically talk about how Comte and MC will never last or have a meaningful relationship, and that Comte is wasting his time not breeding more master race pureblood babies for the community's future. (Not remotely surprised Leonardo does not like them at this juncture lmao)

While MC was well aware she'd face some level of disdain, she admits that it still hurts to hear--and doesn't want Comte to see her upset. So she walks out to a nearby balcony to look at the stars and cool off before returning to his side.

Comte: “MC.”

MC: “Eh…? Comte, when did you get here?”

Comte: “You hadn’t returned for a while, so I went looking for you.”

MC: “Ah, I’m sorry to worry you. The stars were so lovely I couldn’t help but linger a bit to enjoy the sight of them.”

When I try to hide my gloomy feelings, he stares at me.

Comte: “You seem upset all of a sudden. Did something happen? Did someone…say something to you, by any chance?”

MC: “Ah, I can’t hide from you it seems. I guess I am a little upset.”

Comte: “…”

Comte: “MC, do you regret marrying me?”

MC: “!”

MC: “That’s not the case at all. No matter what finds us in the future, I’ll never regret having married you. I’m glad I met you, Abel–that will never change…”

When I tell him my heartfelt feelings, he gently wraps his arms around me.

Comte: “…Me too, MC.” The voice that murmurs at my ear is filled with such ardor that my heart melts.

Comte: “It might have been too much to ask of you to come here. But no matter how difficult the truth may be, it’s an undeniable fact that I’m a pureblood.”

Comte: “I was so happy that you wanted to know more about me–to know me better–that I was spoiled by your words. And yet, as a result of that indulgence, I hurt you…”

MC: “…No. That’s not it. Abel, I’m not familiar with vampires. But this last year, I was with a pureblood who’s kinder than anyone else I know.”

I have no innate fear or dislike of purebloods–because the person I love more than anyone else in the world is a pureblood vampire.

MC: “That’s why I’m not afraid, or dreading any of this.” It might seem outlandish, but his presence was like magic; it was enough to give me the strength to have courage and find kindness for the people around me.

MC: “No matter who stands in my way in the future, I will do my best to be recognized as your partner someday. Didn't I tell you before? I'm invincible anytime, anywhere, as long as you're there with me!”

Upon hearing her resolve to stay with him, he feels the need to renew his vow to her too--telling her that he'll always love her as well, and that his feelings have only grown since then. One important bit to note in his confession is that he fully admits he had a hard time coming to term with what he was, he's only a little more accepting of being a pureblood because her existence redefines what an eternity means to him. He explains that, while no end of time used to be an upsetting and hollow concept to him, the fact that his long life will be spent cultivating his love for her gives him the strength to face his reality.

They kiss and MC acknowledges that life--no matter how long--always has its ups and downs. Sometimes there will be rough times, like when those Mean Girls women were actively nasty and unfair to her. And sometimes there will be joyous times, like how Comte just repeated his vow to her so sweetly. But more than anything, it's important to live in the present moment as fully as possible, and she deepens her kiss with Comte accordingly.

After what I assume to be an excellent make out, they return to the venue and rejoin the group of vampires. Now then, because it's Comte and Comte refuses to take any shit he reveals his ace in the hand. Premeditated and all cunning expectation, the show begins:

After reaffirming our feelings for the other, we return to the hall. When we wandered around to greet people today, there were also vampires who were kind to me. For those that remain perturbed by my presence, they continue to sneer at me as though I were an eyesore.

[I don’t care. Comte’s by my side…]

Comte: “…That’s right, MC. There was one thing I forgot to mention.”

MC: “Huh?”

Comte: “A short while ago, you said something about doing your best to earn their approval. I wouldn’t even worry about it, you’re perfect just as you are. Everyone here just doesn’t have the slightest inkling as to your charms yet. For those with the ability to see, feel free to show them as many times as you like.”

MC: “Comte…”

At that very moment, a waltz begins to flow into the hall.

Comte: “Oh, is it time to dance already? MC, shall we?” (Oh Is It TiMe To DaNcE aLrEaDy, damn clown)

MC: “Yes.”

In time with the melody, we begin to waltz together. When I'd first arrived to this era, the steps and the dance itself were unfamiliar to me. Now when I dance with Comte it’s nearly effortless–natural as breathing.

[Comte has taken me to so many evening parties at this point. Thanks to his impeccable leading any uncertainty in my step is elegantly disguised.]

Comte: “MC.”

As we danced, he called my name--crooned it softly.

Comte: “…Have you noticed? Everyone is watching us.”

At the sound of this new information, I look around.

[Oh, it’s true–everyone really is looking at us…]

And it’s not like before, tinged with displeasure and contempt. It’s like they can’t look away from us now, dazzled and intrigued.

MC: “Makes sense–you’ve always been a very graceful dancer, Comte, it’s impossible not to find it captivating.”

Comte: “No. Without you as my partner, I can’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do now.”

He grins as he says so, the sentiment reflected in his buoyant step. Beautiful, noble…and above all, lively. Even though I’m always by his side, I remain endlessly captivated by that smile and movement.

Comte: “We are more in tune with each other than every other pair here, don’t you think?”

MC: “Haha, that’s right!”

I think le Comte is lovely no matter who he’s dancing with, but I’m sure I’m the one who gets along with him best–I think so, because his golden eyes reflect no one else but me.

[No matter what anyone says…I won’t give up this position to anyone else.]

When the song is over, and the dance is finished, the hall is filled with the raucous sound of applause and cheering. All these people are looking at us and their eyes are shining.

[I wonder…if maybe our feelings for each other were transmitted more clearly after that dance? The mere thought of it makes me feel ticklish and delighted.]

After their lovely display, the Mean Girls ladies approach MC to apologize as everybody is leaving for the night. MC accepts their apologies and says she wants to find a way to get along with them moving forward, though they're still pretty reluctant (probably only apologized to save face).

Differences in lifestyle and family tradition...I think there are many reasons why they can’t accept me. I don’t think it’s easy to understand the breadth of the gap between us; I’m sure I’ll need more time to be able to bridge those differences.

[I don’t know the way of life or struggle of the pureblood people yet. But…I want to understand.]

Even if we are endlessly different, I don’t want to give up on finding some sort of compromise. Next to me, le Comte smiles silently. For the foreseeable future--as long as it may take--I want to prove that I can make this person happy.

I deadass can't stop laughing at the fact of Comte standing next to MC all :)))))) (y'all he is emitting BOSS M U S I C)

After that, Comte and MC also head into their carriage and head home:

Comte: “MC, thank you.”

Le Comte remarks on the way home in the carriage.

MC: “…? I haven’t done anything worth thanks.”

Comte: “For today, for coming with me. And--up until now and from now on--for being by my side. I wanted to thank you again.”

He leans over from where he sits next to me and entwines our fingers together.

MC: “…Abel?”

Comte: “…Today is not just the day of the party, but our wedding anniversary too, right? From here on out, it’s time for only us two to be together.”

This is essentially where the premium story ends, and then it moves into the epilogue. I'll give some tidbits from the epilogue, just because it was so endlessly gratifying. Other than them having the smash of the century, it's mostly Comte going overstimulation feral service top. But there are so many really romantic moments during the shameless fking ;-;

The more he kisses me, the more my need for him spirals out of control. As if to entice him I twist my tongue with his deeper and deeper.

Comte: “MC…”

He exhales my name on a single heated syllable, and I can tell by the way he’s looking at me precisely what it is he wants.

Comte: “MC, what do you want to do…? I want to make you happy tonight. Do you want me to be kind? Or take you with reckless abandon?”

MC: “Abel…please do as you like. That’s what would make me happiest. :>”

Comte: “…I see. So you want to be made a mess of, is what you mean.”

MC: “Mn, aah–”

When his hands trace my sides seductively, my sensitive body reacts on it’s own.

Comte: “…You’re really cute, MC. Tonight, I’ll remind you the joy of being mine again.”

---

Comte: “Always so sensitive. Just the slightest touch, and you cry out with such a sweet voice…”

MC: “Well, it is your fault…”

[Because if Abel touches me like that…He spoils me and leaves me in an endless sea of pleasure, building up to that crest–fading–and building up again…because he loves me so dearly.]

Comte: “My fault, is it?…I like the sound of that.”

With a bewitching smile, he makes short work of his tie and button down. Even the most casual gestures like this are done with such grace that it becomes sensual. I’m drawn to the sight of him revealing more and more of his skin, thinking he’s far too much of a tease.

Comte: “…If you look at me with such desirous, greedy eyes, I’m going to lose control myself, MC.”

----

MC: “I…all I do is take from you…” I’m embarrassed because I’m so inexperienced that all I do is drown in the pleasure he gives me.

Comte: “…If you really think so, then you’re too unaware.”

MC: “Mn–ah, hah…”

Comte: “I’m the one who can’t stop wanting you…MC.”

When he leans over to murmur in my ear, his voice is suffused with desire–breathing shallow. From the gap between his lips, I can see the fangs which have never broken my skin…

MC: “Abel…do you want to bite me?”

If the answer is yes, then I’d be delighted. A vampire’s hunger for blood is often tied to romantic feeling. If he wants to suck my blood, then that’s all the more evidence that he loves me.

Comte: “That’s right. I want to sink my fangs into your soft skin…To taste your blood, to know your body and soul--I want to make every part of you mine.”

MC: “Mn…”

He drops a kiss to my throat, tickled by his tongue as he licks there–as if to taste me.

Comte: “But…”

Only I am reflected in his eyes.

Comte: “The only thing I want more than biting you is to take good care of you. I don’t want to impulsively take anything from you.”

MC: “Abel…”

....

Comte: “Someday…I will make you into a vampire. But, right now, I want you to stay exactly as you are.”

The heat of him coupled by that serious look...my heart is swept away.

Comte: “So…can you bear with my hesitation for just a little while longer?”

MC: “Yes…forever. I’ll always be yours.” I replied, wrapping my arms around his back. He squinted, as if he were staring at something dazzling.

Comte: “I’m always hesitating, but…MC. I will absolutely never let you go. I swear my love to you forever, my dear wife.”

----

The last part of the epilogue is confusing because I'm not sure if it's intended to be an actual dream or Comte just messing with her, but here goes:

[Morning already…?]

At the sensation of sunlight, I open my eyes.

MC: “Eh!?”

Comte: “Are you up, MC? The defenseless face you make when you’re asleep is adorable, but when you open your eyes and look at me that’s also lovely.”

He was lying in bed, unlike last night, wearing the same outfit he had on for our wedding.

[Ah, I’m most likely dreaming.] When I realize it, I get a ticklish feeling in my chest and can’t help the smile that finds my face.

MC: “Haha…”

Comte: “MC? What’s wrong?”

MC: “No, I was just thinking you really will always be by my side. I’m glad to see you in my dreams like this…I’m happy.”

Comte: “…Haha, that’s right. I’m happy too. But…it’s not always a dream right?”

MC: “Er…”

His voice easily makes my heart flutter, like sweet sake.

Comte: “Would you like to see if it’s a dream? …Once again, with your body.”

My heart thunders under his sultry gaze, covetous gold eyes beckoning me closer. (COME HITHER FUCK)

MC: “Yes, Abel. As many times as you like…take me.”

I know dream-like, impossibly happy days will continue as long as I stay by his side–

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

There is so much going on here that I don't even know how to encompass all my feelings other than to say MARRIED COUPLE G O A L S. AAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE'S SUCH A DOTING HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PUT A RING ON ME S I R

I really love the endless reciprocity coming from MC, lmao. She very openly wants to respond to his efforts, wants to make him happy too, is just as desirous in their coupling. I also love how much personality and spunk she has??? I was fucking d y i n g when she was like:

MC: "Aren't the stars so nice." Comte: "Adorable that you'd try to out-fake the king faker. What really happened." MC: "Damn it."

It's been a long time since I've gotten this much serotonin from a story m a nnnnnn

[mearcatsreturns]

/whispers/ So maybe I now have to ask for Ivan and the No Good Terrible Very Bad Day Attempting to Babysit a Grisha Child Who Can Summon Light and Shadow. How could this possibly go wrong.

Once again, this got long, so here's the first chapter of A Day in the Life of Ivan, Or: Ivan’s Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.

The worst day of Ivan’s life begins years before the fateful day itself, if that’s possible. He’s grateful not to know the precise day, but he knows who—or what, rather—is to blame.

It’s the damn heterosexuals. They just won’t stop fucking, and they’ve made it everyone else’s problem now.

The heterosexuals in question are, of course, Kirigan and Alina, or as they’re known now, the Tsar and Tsarina.

&&&

About three years before the Worst Day™, Ivan is minding his own business, just trying to find some decent food after returning from a mission to the northern border. It wasn’t a bad trip; Fedyor had been with him and they’d enjoyed the opportunity to spend some time together outside the political games of Os Alta.

Nevertheless, Ivan is eager to eat some food that isn’t dried and to sleep in his own comfortable bed. He’s already debriefed with the Tsar and bathed, so he’s delighted to find it’s time for dinner. It’s to be a small group tonight, just the king and queen, Nikolai, Zoya, Tamar, Nadia, Fedyor and him. He can tolerate them all (except Fedyor, who of course is the light of his life), though Alina remains permanently on thin ice. She makes the Darkling light and happy, and it’s just unnatural.

They settle around the table and fall into comfortable conversation. Tolya is on an assignment and intends to travel to Kerch after this. Tamar and Nadia are beginning to formalize their union and are looking for a house. If their bickering and the obscene looks Zoya and Nikolai are giving each other are any indication, Ivan expects some kind of announcement from them any day. The Tsar intends to invite some dignitaries from Novyi Zem to the palace in a few weeks.

And Tsaritsa Alina is pale and...unwell. She looks queasy, and Ivan feels a moment of alarm. Grisha can’t get sick, not unless they don’t use their powers. Given that Alina is the Sol Koroleva, the renowned Sun Summoner, that seems unlikely. Few things lead to such ill appearances. Maybe some kind of poison? If she or her food are being poisoned, they need to know as soon as possible.

Ivan does his usual first step; he counts the heartbeats, checking their speeds. One, two, three, four, everyone is normal, five, six, seven, eight, nine...ah, the ninth is faint and fast.

Wait. Nine? There are only eight of them here at dinner, and the attendants have long since departed.

It hits Ivan like a lightning bolt, and he gasps aloud in shock and horror. The most reasonable explanation for the extra heartbeat and Alina’s ill looks is—oh, saints protect them all—a baby.

Everyone turns to look at him, as though he is the one who’s done something strange and dangerous.

Ivan gapes at Alina and points a finger accusingly, “You’re pregnant! With a baby!”

Beside him, Fedyor closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a sigh. Tamar and Nadia exchange a knowing, amused look, though they manage not to laugh. Zoya raises one shapely eyebrow.

Nikolai grins. “One generally is pregnant with babies, as opposed to anything else. Except perhaps with genius ideas, in my case and David’s. Alina, moi tsar, congratulations to you both.”

Alina glares at Ivan. What? He’s not the unholy saint about to unleash terror onto the earth from their womb.

Once he glances at Kirigan, though, Ivan stills. The Tsar is ashen and looks as though someone has dropped an iron on his head, or told him that his beloved horse is Grisha too.

“Aleksander, I wasn’t sure. I was waiting until I was to tell you,” Alina says, one hand on her husband’s forearm. “Are...are you all right?”

The Tsar opens his mouth, but no sounds come out.

Tamar and Nadia stand, hand-in-hand. “We, ah, think we’ll take our leave now. Thank you for a lovely dinner, Sol Koroleva, my King,” Tamar says, and she and her fiancée flee.

Zoya clears her throat and gives Nikolai a look that is very different from the hungry one Ivan so despises on faces that aren’t Fedyor’s.

With a nod at her, Nikolai stands and helps her to her feet. “Indeed. Your hospitality is, as always, boundless, though I can’t help but feel we’re trespassing on it every second we linger here. Erm, do let me know when I can get you a gift.”

“Congratulations,” Zoya says, and to Ivan’s disgust, she actually sounds sincere. He watches as she and Nikolia leave, one of the Lantsov pup’s hands at the small of her waist. One would think the heterosexuals would have learned from this evening that touching each other is dangerous, but apparently some of them are just utter fools.

Fedyor elbows him, and Ivan turns to scowl at his beloved. “Wha—”

A point of his head in the direction of the Tsar and Tsaritsa quiets Ivan.

Alina is kneeling beside her husband’s chair, stroking his arm. Aleksander Kirigan, King of Ravka, Shadow Summoner, the Black General, sits still as a statue, eyes wide with shock.

“We’ll head out now too,” Fedyor says.

Ivan nods, grabbing Fedya’s arm and hauling him from the room. Over his shoulder, Ivan yells, “Good luck!”

Fedyor smacks him, whispering furiously as they close the door behind them. “‘Good luck’?! You’re supposed to say ‘congratulations,’ or ‘have a nice evening,’ you utter troll.”

“I’m a troll now? See if I give you a massage when we get back to our rooms,” Ivan grouses. He pulls Fedyor along, pulling him away from where he seemed inclined to linger by the door. Eavesdropping, pah. He can’t believe he’s married to such a busybody.

Who would want to stay to hear whatever nonsense the Darkling and his wife are about to say or do? He’s had enough of that for one lifetime, thank you very much.

Ivan shudders. The two most powerful Grisha on the planet, one a sun summoner and the other a shadow summoner, having a baby? The world is definitely doomed.

&&&

The next day, Ivan receives a summons to go see the Tsar. Dread churns in his stomach, and he rubs his eyes. He hadn’t slept well, especially after he and Fedyor had a tiff about “inappropriate behavior and outbursts.” And now he’s to see his boss, probably about said outburst the previous night.

He accompanies Anton, the young oprichnik to the Tsar’s quarters, and the boy brightens with excitement to be talking to one of the Tsar’s most favored Grisha. “Thank you, Andrei. I’ll make my way from here.” The boy’s face falls, but Ivan dismisses him with a nod. If the oprichniki got any more friendly, they’d start calling him Vanya without his permission. Appalling.

Ivan takes a deep breath, then knocks at the door. He’s long since learned the value of knocking after Alina and the General got together, especially now that they share their quarters. Unfortunately, no healer has yet to find something to wipe certain sights from his brain.

“Come in,” Kirigan’s faint, disembodied voice commands.

Ivan lets himself into the room, waiting while the Tsar steps around the corner from the bedroom he shares with his queen.

“Good morning, Ivan.”

“Good morning, moi soverennyi. I hope you rested well,” Ivan replies, tone funereal. Saints, he prays he’s not about to be sent to Tsibeya permanently. He runs his hand under his collar, annoyed to find he’s actually sweating.

Kirigan’s face gives nothing away. “I did, thank you. The Tsaritsa is with Genya and one of the healers.”

“And she...she is well?” Ivan gulps.

“Yes. She was apparently a bit surprised last night herself, as she’d only just begun to suspect she might be pregnant.”

As much as Ivan hates when the Tsar’s feelings show—it’s usually him making soppy, annoying faces at Alina—he wishes Aleksander would just say what’s on his mind.

“My apologies, sir, I was also surprised. She seemed unwell, and I wanted to make sure she wasn’t, say, being poisoned.”

“You thought someone might be poisoning my wife?” Kirigan is incredulous.

“Things have been very calm with Fjerda lately. I don’t trust it.”

The General mutters under his breath, something about not trusting anything.

Ivan waits. Finally, Kirigan breaks the not-so-silent silence. “Well, thank you for your concern. And, ah, the surprising news.”

“You’re most welcome,” he replies gloomily.

“You don’t seem thrilled.”

“Forgive me, moi tsar, but I don’t see a need for excitement at a natural result of your conjugal activities. Sir.”

Oh, saints, is Kirigan frowning at him? Ivan mentally starts packing his belongings when the frown becomes a smile and then a laugh.

Perhaps Aleksander still isn’t quite recovered from the shock of his impending fatherhood.

He’s not paying attention to Ivan anyway. Kirigan makes his way to the table, shuffling the papers there unseeingly. “I didn’t think it was possible, you know.”

“I did not.” And Ivan would like to keep it that way.

Alas, Aleksander seems inclined to continue talking. “In all my long life, longer than you know, I’ve never fathered a child.”

Ivan grimaces. The world is probably grateful, though now it has much to fear. “It would have been challenging to have had a child during the wars, sir.”

Kirigan waves this aside, and unfortunately continues speaking. “Still, for it to happen with Alina...I’m so thrilled, Ivan.”

“And I am...happy for you, General.” Make it stop. Ivan is queasy.

“Of course, it’s probably for the best that it didn’t happen when Alina and I first got together, especially now that I know how possible that was.”

Ivan wants to cover his ears and sing “la la la la la,” but the implications of what his boss is saying finally sink in, and his horror at this whole situation increases exponentially. “Wait. Do you mean to say you weren’t using, ah, preventative measures?”

Kirigan’s face grows sheepish. “Until my conversation with Alina last night after you all departed, I wasn’t aware there was such a thing. In my day, one simply planned around the time of the month or withdrew from—”

“I beg you to stop talking. Moi soverennyi,” Ivan adds as an afterthought.

The Tsar falls silent, and Ivan sighs with relief.

But something bothers him. “Did you not get any sort of talk about how to prevent pregnancy when you were training? Even I did when I was young, before everyone knew I wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“Like I said, there weren’t those kinds of options when I was young, as far as I know,” Kirigan says with a shrug.

Ivan begins to realize that his boss is, in fact, much older than he thought. That explains the herring and rye, too. He hesitates before venturing to speak. “Do...was Alina—the queen, that is, did she explain the different kinds of birth control, or…?”

“Well, I can’t get her more pregnant, Ivan.”

It’s too horrible to even contemplate, and Ivan shudders.

Kirigan laughs and slaps his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to give me The Talk. Alina was so upset I didn’t know that she told me everything last night.”

Ivan’s lips twist in dismay at Aleksander’s rapturous expression that indicates there was a demonstration of some practical applications. Ugh. “Small mercies.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll consider this next a mercy: I want you and Fedyor to stay close through Alina’s pregnancy, especially once word gets out.”

Staying in Os Alta won’t be so bad, but the idea of dancing attendance on Alina, all while some parasite hijacks and distorts her body...well, hopefully he’ll get a good field assignment once this pregnancy is over. “Of course, moi tsar. And when will it end? I mean, ah, when is the blessed event?”

“In seven and a half months or so, perhaps eight. She’s about five or six weeks along, the healer says. And that, well…” Kirigan smiles at what is clearly the memory of this child’s conception.

Ivan fervently wracks his brain, desperate to keep his boss from offering more information that will give him nightmares about heterosexual intercourse. “And is there any way of knowing whether the babe will be a shadow summoner or sun summoner? Or both?”

A stricken look comes over Kirigan’s face. “Both?” He clearly hasn’t considered this possibility yet. “But that…” He doesn’t continue, instead going to fall into his chair and stare into distance.

It’s going to be a long few months.

&&&

It’s roughly eight months after that when Ivan is rudely pulled from sleep by Genya bursting into his and Fedyor’s room like she has the right.

It’s obscenely early in the morning, Ivan is, as is his usual habit, sleeping on his side facing the window. Fedyor, as is his usual custom, sleeps with his arm slung over Ivan’s waist and his head buried between his shoulder blades. It’s very soothing, normally.

Not today, though. The door opens with a bang, and Genya yells, “It’s time! She’s here!”

Ivan, suddenly wide awake, goes to jump out of bed. Instead, he finds that Genya has slowed their heart rates enough that hurrying is impossible. He glares at her. “What the fuck are you doing in our room? Who is here?”

“The baby is here. The tsarevna.”

“It’s a girl?” Fedyor asks with a smile.

Genya grins back. “Yes. She’s adorable.”

Ivan does not smile. “I’m glad she’s arrived. But why are you here in our bedroom at—” he glances at the clock and continues, “4:52 in the morning?”

“Everyone is going to see here. You’re the Tsar’s right-hand man, Ivan, so they’ll be expecting you.”

“Well, Genya, darling, you’ll have to let our hearts do their normal thing if you want us to do that,” Fedyor adds.

She shakes her head and drops her hand. “Of course. Sorry. See you there in fifteen minutes, and please be wearing pants. And shirts.”

Ivan grumbles, but gets out of bed. It’s difficult to want to leave when Fedyor is looking over him like that, but Kirigan probably will be upset if they don’t come to fawn over his spawn in what he deems a reasonable amount of time.

He and Fedyor make their way down the halls of the palace to Aleksander’s and Alina’s private apartment. The door is open, but Ivan nods at the guards and knocks anyway before stepping inside, Fedyor on his heels. He walks back to the bedroom, where he can hear hushed, happy conversations.

Alina is lying on the bed. She looks sweaty and disgusting, but in a radiant and maternal way that the Tsar seems to find beautiful, since he can’t look away from her. Typical, and exactly what got them into this mess.

The mess in question is wrapped in a blanket in her mother’s arms. Ivan glances at the small bundle, which seems to be sleeping. It is certainly very red.

Kirigan sits in a chair beside the bed, as close to it and his wife and new daughter as he can. He’s resting one hand on Alina’s shoulder, while the other trails along his daughter’s tiny head.

“The tsarevna is lovely,” Fedyor says, smiling down at the family.

Ivan thinks that’s a bit of a stretch, but he nods. “She looks like a baby. A healthy one.”

Fedyor elbows him, but Alina just rolls her eyes. “Thank you, I think.”

“She’s beautiful,” Aleksander says firmly, his face still disturbingly dreamy. “We’ve decided to call her Anastasia.”

Nastia. That seems about right.

Just then, the wee girl stirs and starts to wail. As her cries grow louder and Alina shifts to be able to feed her, shadows creep into the room. Then through the darkness, Ivan sees little flashes of light coming from the baby.

Fuck. This tiny child can summon shadows and light.

Nasty little Nastia indeed.