#kes fears the blonde

[aperture-of-bullshit]

Genuinely funniest thing abt the show is that there are people out there experiencing pjo for the first time and they don’t know about Luke

[delta-queerdrant]

in a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways (Cold Fire, s2 e10)

Around the time I watched “Cold Fire,” I read an excerpt from poet Maggie Smith’s memoir, which chronicled how, as a writer and primary caregiver to her kids, she found professional success incompatible with the survival of her marriage. “Please don’t,” she tells a friend who wants to send Smith's husband a picture of the line at her book signing. “It’ll just make everything worse.”

The piece made me so sad, the same sadness I feel every time I’m reminded that our culture is terrified of powerful women. We see this in our popular culture, with its recurring tropes of ungovernable female villains, and perhaps more insidiously, female heroes whose own power is their greatest threat. Men and boys are tasked to defeat external obstacles, but women are always struggling against ourselves. 

“Cold Fire” simultaneously evokes and dodges these themes of dangerous female power in a way that feels very squishy and contradictory. Kes gains access to “dark” Ocampan powers and has to overcome them, but the episode makes the empathetic choice to portray her journey as universal rather than as evidence of a personal failing. “Do not fear your negative thoughts,” Tuvok, Zen master, tells her in the final scene. “They are part of you. They are part of every living being, even Vulcans.” Even Neelix is on board with her self-discovery, earning a stamp in his underutilized “good boyfriend” passport for being genuinely excited about her personal growth.

As the episode opens, Tuvok is leading Kes through a frankly creepy telepathy session (aren’t there mindreading ethics?), when Voyager stumbles on a Caretaker-like array populated by Ocampa. Kes gets to play diplomat to the colony, a fun expansion of her skillset.

Suspiria, the female Caretaker, reinforces the “lawful male / chaotic female” vibe of the episode - while the Caretaker we’re familiar with played divine patriarch to Kes’s people, Suspiria has settled the Ocampa in her own array and gifted them with psionic powers. The whereabouts of the second Caretaker has been one of the chief ongoing mysteries of the show, but Suspiria is frankly very boring - a vengeful, irrational goddess who takes form as a little girl. (Star Trek seems to have a penchant for “tiny blond girls as otherworldly aliens.”) The episode closes with her return being teased, but of course we never see her again.

Under the tutelage of Tanis, who serves as emissary of Suspiria’s tower of Babel, Kes nearly kills Tuvok with her developing psychic powers. Soon after, she nukes the contents of the airponics bay and, doing so, discovers the joy of wielding death and destruction. This is where the episode veers into silliness for me. Jennifer Lien is a great actor, but I can’t buy her performance, because the script doesn't feel, to me, rooted in character.

Parables about power often make this mistake: “it’s intoxicating!” “It’s like a drug!” But people chase power (and intoxication) for extremely personal reasons. Kes is a character driven by intellectual curiosity, and while she’s totally capable of leaving her friends behind for a sufficiently compelling adventure, I can’t see her being tempted to align herself with an amoral weirdo like Tanis. If people are going to write stories about dangerous women, they should at least take a moment to ask why a woman might want to be dangerous.

Happily, Kes doesn’t have to give up her powers; she uses them to save the day and resolves to find balance under Tuvok’s guidance. But I’m not sure this show ever finds the plot when it comes to Kes’s abilities and what they mean to her. At the end of the day, it’s just kinda an incoherent mess. 

2.5/5 dark impulses.

[tetsunabouquet]

Heir To The Lands Chapter 30

Masterpost Giving Answers

Dru sat on the bed, looking at the quartet. "Who brought Laura here? No offense." Laura still looked gobsmacked nonetheless and shook her head. "Why am I here? The better question is, why did you kick me out of our trio and when did you decide to have mister giant teddybear and his buddies to know of your secrets?!" Tavi chuckled and Laura shot her a look. Tavi continued looking smug, "That's too cute to be an insult, you know?" Laura groaned. "And this is exactly why we broke up. You're insufferable." Time froze for a second as both Thais and Dru gawked at them. "You used to date?" "When we were like, 13 or something." Laura said dismissively. "See Thais! We can bond as her exes!" Tavi exclaimed. "By the Angel Octavia, the better question should be who haven't you dated?" "Don't slutshame me, Ke. I've been single for over a year." Tavi pouted angrily as she crossed her arms to which Laura sarcastically started clapping. "What a miracle indeed." "Can you girls please stop bitching in sapphic? There are more important things at hand." Thais rubbed her temples. Tomas and Zeynep sighed simultaneously before the tall boy plopped down on Thais' bed. "Alright, to answer Laura's original question, I was just asking because I only told Thais what I was up to. Zeynep spied on me for Tavi and I decided I could ask Isebrand for help as I figured she had already ratted me out to Tomas and Tavi anyways." Laura once more groaned as she looked at Tavi and decided not to press any further. As Tomas looked at her, Dru swallowed. "As for Tomas' question, if I'm going to tell all of you then you should know I'm going to be dragging you into a mess of epic proportions." Zeynep looked at everyone and said in her usual soft voice, "Dru, I think you fail to realize we already grasped that your family is at the center of the next upcoming crisis once more. Just tell us, we're here to help."

As Kit hurried down for a cup of tea, he found a tired looking Tessa in the kitchen, looking like she hadn't slep that much. Kit couldn't blame her. As he made tea, he decided to tell her about Dru's return as well as what she had mentioned about Ragnor. He figured she probably had history with Ragnor just like Magnus did. She looked even more pale afterwards and Kit felt so horrible. Wether it was Dru or Mina, he decided he would allow neither of their younger sisters to befall a horrible fate. He would trade his every rib for their safety, he made that promise to himself and most of all, Livvy who seemed to be patrolling their garden area. Nothing like that would happen again, he would make sure of it.

With Clary, Jace, Isabelle and Simon seated in their living room, Magnus decided to conjure up some booze as he figured they would all need to have a drink before the bad news. Simon looked at his glass of rum, "It really is shitstorm bad, isn't it?" "As fun as my dearest brother in law can be, the look on his face and the alcohol percentage on this bottle is telling me this drink means very bad news." Jace agreed as Simon eyed the blonde. "You do know that's the average alcohol percentage on most rum?" Isabelle looked at Jace gravely. "You drink too much beer. It's cheap, smells revolting and it has a very low alcohol percentage." Magnus would have normally agreed with Izzy, but he honestly felt like he was caught in a nightmare. Alec sat next to him, with a brooding look on his face. As Clary put down her glass, he decided to speak. "I have gathered all of you here for the next emergency, I fear. I have an entire grocery list of things going wrong, starting with an old acquaintance of ours." "Who?" Simon asked, immediately picturing their long list of enemies. "How about the Seelie Queen?"

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

"T-told you not to tou-urp-ch w-what is mine, d-didn't I?"

Morty froze, his shiny, cherry colored lips parting for a gasp as he was forcefully pulled up by his hair from his bed where he was peacefully (hornily) sleeping. A barrel of a gun pressed against his temple, as his tearful eyes met with furious blues.

"I-i'm s-sorry, Rick!" He breathed. The metal pressed painfully.

"S-selfish, ba-urp-ad boys don't get to s-say sorrys! I told you, didn't I? Y-you are mine. O-only I can t-urp-ouch you, yet you dared t-to disobey?!" Broad fingers ran down his side, the callouses roughly sliding on sensitive skin.

"I-I-I… i-it was an accident!" Morty whined, his cock under his pink panties still achingly hard. He was dreaming about his Rick, and he might have gripped himself in his sleep, but-

"Accident, huh?" Icy voice growled, hooking a wandering finger into his panty, snapping the band that slapped against Miami Morty's loin in a painful sting. "I'll sh-ough-ow you a-accindent!"

The gun pressed harder against his head, making Morty breathless, scared, and more turned on than ever before. Miami Rick dragged the gun down, slowly sliding it against Morty's lips, through his pretty pink nipples, back down on his spine, until it slipped under his hot pink underwear, between his ass cheeks.

Morty jerked, breathing hard and fast. Miami Rick's hand gripped his long, blond hair, turning his face upward, making him look straight into those ice cold blues.

"B-bad boys, who can't ta-urp-ke orders, must be p-punished," he said. The cold metal of the gun made Morty tremble, in fear, in want, he didn't know. Licking his strawberry-flavored lips, he gasped for air. The dark scent of leather, gunpowder and alcohol invaded his senses, making his head spin.

Miami Morty whimpered.

"Y-you insatiable bitch," murmured Rick, withdrawing the gun, just to press it against his back, between his shoulder blades. "A-are you a g-good boy f-urp-or Daddy?"

The question was whispered against his ear, making him shiver and moan.

"Yes."

"Strip," Miami Rick ordered, his hand letting the blonde hair go and Morty immediately took off his tiny panties and loose shirt. "G-good boy." His free hand snaked down towards his legs, tapping one slight thigh, instructing Morty to spread them without a word. The young boy opened them, granting access to calloused fingers.

Morty shivered as fingers grazed his cock, but leaving way too suddenly. Rick gathered his hair again into his fist, wrapping long locks around his hand and yanking Morty's head back. Miami Rick traced his grandson's jawline with the gun. The pretty boy instinctively parted his lips, his oral fixation kicking in.

"T-tell me ho-urp-w good boy you are, Kitten," Rick smirked, caressing the pink lips with the cold gun.

"R-r-really good," Morty whimpered, rolling his hips in a vain attempt to seek friction.

Rick's eyes hungrily took in the sight under him. His gun glistened with Morty's saliva, the boy basically panting to stuff his holes full.

"We'll see," Rick growled, pushing the gun past the boy's life. Morty moaned and wrapped his tongue around the barbell, teasing the gun like it was Rick's cock. He wasn't sure if the safety was on is not, but not really caring about either way, trusting in Rick completely, and he took the barrel deep into his mouth. He sucked, drool dripping down his chin. It sat heavy and thick on his tongue, and he swallowed eagerly the gunpowder taste. Looking up from under his eyelashes, he could see Rick's hungry gaze as his grandfather watched him giving head to a gun. It was intense and Morty felt he could come from just that look, and the mortal danger he swallowed deep in his throat. His eyes fluttered shut, everything felt too much, yet not enough.

"G-good Kitten," Rick said, his voice shaking. He, too, was as affected by what was happening as Morty was. Pulling his gun away from those cherry red temptations and throwing it away, he unzipped his pants, taking his throbbing cock out. He ran his hand along his hardened length a few times before running his hands down on Morty's body to grab his tights. He hoisted him up, and his Kitten wrapped his long legs around his hips.

Rick ran his swollen tip along Morty's always ready holes teasing his grandson with it, drowning them both to madness. Both grandpa and grandson moaned as Rick pushed his tip inside. Just the tip, yet it was better than anything and anybody he used in his long life. His Morty, his Kitten, his grandson and soulmate was the best fuck, best everything ever, for a thousand years.

His speed was wild and punishing when he finally allowed them both to feel each other fully. Morty's little hole was gripping him, sucking him in, knowing who it belonged to. It didn't take long for either of them to come, painting long strips of white all over Morty's tanned body, but it was fast and brutal, bloody and painful; completely them.

"Y-you did good, Kitten," Rick whispered to the spent, half-passed out boy, gently kissing the top of his blonde head. His Kitten instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck, wanting to stay as close to his grandfather as he could. One of Rick's hands reached to his gun, never parting from it. He was a genius and almost a gun, but he needed something to keep Morty safe if anybody tried to do anything.

"I-I love you, Rick," Miami Morty yawned, burrowing himself in Rick's arms, throwing a leg over his hips. The little Kitten was just as possessive as Rick was.

[iambic-stan]

Janeway and Kes

I write a lot of this sort of thing, and now I've written something that I don't mind sharing. So...not surprisingly, it's Star Trek and hearts. In part based on some events from the Voyager series, the rest is my brain filling in many blanks.

It's nearly midnight, and Kathryn knows she should be asleep, not gazing at the stars, wondering when she'll see Mark again, what he's doing, whether he's worried or writing her off as dead.  The view of constellations outside the ship is beautiful until, suddenly, she sees visions within them of the Caretaker's array being destroyed--heralding the horror of their indefinite stay in the Delta Quadrant.  She closes her eyes quickly to force the vision away, though she's failed to truly shake it for months.  In the morning, there will be meetings with the senior officers and bridge duty, and tonight there's a pile of padds to read through.  Despite her insomnia, though, she can't bring herself to be productive.  Her door chimes once, jolting her out of her ruminations.  "Come in," she says, rising from her couch.  Kes is on the other side of the door, looking sheepish.  Kathryn notes what must be the Ocampan's answer to pajamas--a fitted but utilitarian earth-toned top and long pants.  It's quite a contrast to her own pink satin nightgown--an article of clothing she'd likely feel embarrassed to be wearing in front of most of the other members of the crew.  "It's so late; I'm so sorry," Kes stutters meekly.  "No, it's lovely to see you, Kes.  What's on your mind?" Kathryn quickly asks, grateful for unexpected company so kind and non judgemental.  "Would you like something to drink?"

Kathryn uses the excuse of replicating Kes' pear and spinach juice to replicate more coffee for herself, though she fears that doing so negates any chance she had of sleeping well.  "Please, sit down," she says, motioning toward her couch.  "Captain...I know you want everyone to be treated equally," she begins, seemingly with some hesitation. "Of course, dear," Kathryn insists, brows furrowed.  She places the drinks on her coffee table and takes Kes' hands.  "Are you and Neelix unhappy?  What can I do?" she asks, searching the other woman's face.  "Oh, no--we're fine," Kes ensures her.  "It's the EMH."  Unthinking, Kathryn pulls back.  "Well, he is a hologram," she points out, suddenly feeling as though she's speaking to a child.  "He's a sentient being," Kes corrects, fire behind her soft eyes.  "He is talked about in third person by those he is assigned to care for!  They ask me, an inexperienced field medic, for advice on subjects about which he is the expert in the room.  He says he is accustomed to it, but his tone says he feels unhappy, unappreciated.  He is as lost as all of you in this quadrant, but he has applied his Starfleet medical knowledge and training to help people like me--people none of you had ever even seen until a year ago.  He loves to learn, and he yearns for more.  He cares for me, and I feel in him the desire to connect with others deeply, to be considered a member of this crew in every way that one can be, but everyone else has written him off cruelly."  Kathryn notices tears in the corners of Kes' eyes as she reaches the end of her impassioned appeal.  Has her view of life and cognizance been so narrow?  Had she never considered the consequences of continuously running a holographic program, until the situation necessitated his constant service?  Kes bows her head, her blonde curls cascading down her face, and Kathryn wonders if she's hiding her tears.  "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Kes.  I'll speak with him directly, identify his needs, and instruct the crew accordingly."  She sits in awe of this younger woman who was able to perceive what she could not.  Has she been too wrapped up in her own woes, her guilt for stranding everyone out here?  Kes' face brightens, and she reaches over to hug Kathryn.  "Captain, thank you so much for being receptive to this."  Kathryn holds her for a moment, rubbing her back and breathing in her warmth. 

The two have been sitting this way for a few heartbeats when Kes asks, "What's that glittering in the other room?"  "What do you mean?" Kathryn asks, then almost immediately realizes.  She releases Kes from their embrace and walks to her bedroom.  When she returns, she's holding what looks like some kind of metal device, but one that's oddly festive.  It has what appears to be a silver headset attached to lavender colored tubing of some kind, which makes a "Y" shape which comes down to a single tube and ends with a round metal disc with a plastic cover full of bright pink and purple glitter that shines intensely despite the instrument's obvious age.  This is the first time anyone has asked Kathryn about it, but also the first time that Ensign Case has forgotten it in her quarters. She must've done it inadvertently when they were using it the other evening, before she remembered she was due to have dinner with Ensign Kim.  "This actually belongs to Ensign Case," Kathryn explains, "A centuries-old medical tool she found some years ago.  But we don't really think of it in that way, as a medical instrument.  But...it is nice."  Kes looks confused, but her interest is piqued.  "I was drawn to the sparkling piece at the end, but now I'm even more curious," she confesses.  Kathryn smiles, happy to share this, and twice as happy to have her mind off of her worries for a moment.  

"It's nothing that you would need, not unless everything went quite sideways and we had no functioning medical tricorders," she explains.  "But, it has a way of making me feel grounded, at peace, when my brain won't allow it otherwise.  It's called a stethoscope."  As a way to show instead of tell, Kathryn reaches forward with the ear tips, gently moves Kes' hair behind her shoulders, and carefully places them inside her ears, running her fingers along one of the ridges momentarily, curiously admiring ears so starkly different from her own.  Kes chuckles for a moment, then watches as Kathryn places the disc directly on her own chest, just above the collar of her gown.  The two women sit in silence for a few seconds before Kes says, wonderment in her voice, "I can hear your heart beating, really clearly, Captain.  I've never heard someone's heartbeat quite like this.  So...closely, so vividly.  And I hear your breathing alongside it.  It's so calming."  Kathryn smiles and watches the woman's face while she listens, all the while feeling vulnerable yet safer, somehow.  She reflects on the irony of feeling safe in such a precarious situation as being stranded so many light years from home.  But Kes turns out to be a fantastic listener--her eyes, the color of the sky back home in Indiana, Kathryn realizes, are staring straight ahead, calm while she listens for several minutes.  Kes removes the ear pieces and looks for a moment at the instrument, running her hands down the pale purple tubing with its specks of silver glitter.  "I feel like you let me into your world in a unique way," she says.  "Thank you.  Do you want to listen to my heart?" she asks, and Kathryn does, though she wanted Kes to offer and did not want to make assumptions.  

"Ensign Case doesn't mind?" Kes asks.  "Oh no," Kathryn assures her.  "I think she would be happy to know someone else enjoyed...what did she call it?  Cardiophilia," she recalls.  Kes nods, accepting a new English word that sounds fitting enough for the scenario.  Kathryn turns the binaurals so they're angled to fit correctly in her own ears, then reaches over to Kes' side of the couch, gently placing the shiny chest piece over her nightclothes as Kes moves to sit closer to her.  Immediately, Kathryn is surprised.  "Kes!  Your heart is racing.  It's...it's so fast," Kathryn trails off, not expecting to hear valves shutting so quickly she can't count all the beats as they come in such rapid succession.  While Kathryn is concerned, Kes just giggles.  "And yours was so slow to me, even with the coffee.  Ocampan heart rates are much faster than humans, on average.  This is just my resting heart rate," she shrugs, smiling broadly.  Taking in this new information, Kathryn's gaze falls to the floor of her quarters.  What a curiosity life is--that she would be sharing this intimacy with someone from the other side of the galaxy--someone as alien as she's ever met, and who seems quite human nonetheless, worrying about her fellow crewmate's well-being.  Her mind begins to wander, and she feels self-critical for not realizing the EMH needed her attention--she's the captain of the vessel, after all.  She shudders for a second, knowing the familiar guilt that plagues her is making its way to the front of her mind.  Almost as a deliberate, meditative act, she focuses on the racing of Kes' heart, picturing the leaflets of her valves, semilunar and atrioventricular, opening and closing in unison, but so rapidly it's dizzying.  Or is that even how Ocampan hearts are structured? she wonders.  Nevertheless, Kes' sounds quite human.  Slowly but surely, her mind lets go of her anxieties, and she hears only the Ocampan's steady heartbeat.  After several minutes, she removes the stethoscope, softly telling Kes, "Thank you."  All at once, it seems, the feeling rushes at her and she realizes, I can sleep.  As though reading her mind, Kes rises from the couch and says, "That was lovely, Captain, and thank you again for hearing me out about the EMH.  I know he will appreciate your efforts.  I'm going to get some rest," she says, taking her leave.  "You're very welcome, dear," Kathryn tells her, and when she turns off her lamp and climbs into bed, she falls immediately into a deep sleep, one devoid of anxious dreams and nightmares that often threaten her peace.

[sassooda]

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 79 - Bonding 🔞

w/c - 8,097

               “Love, stay here.”, Gojo whips out his arm to block Elska in the hall, “If he’s frenzied, he’ll go after you.”. He looks to Choso with affirmation and states, “If Shoko is hurt, I need you to grab her immediately, ok?”.

               Choso nods while reaching out for Elska’s hand, “I understand.”, he responds while pulling her a little closer to provide some comfort. She’s thrashing to yank away so he’s made to use actual strength while soothing, “He’s right Elska, just calm down…”, and sighs relief when she actually does.

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               Shoko has been forced into an old dusty waist-high table against the wall and is being pinned by her lover. Nanami startled her when he sent energy to the area next to her because it was as if he woke up and was already dissatisfied. “Ke-nto…”, she mumbles as he tears away at the long lavender nightdress that she didn’t value. Over the shredding fabric, she hears Elska’s words, “If you surrender yourself to them, things go a little smoother.”, ring in her mind as her eyes squeeze shut. ‘Why did this have to happen?’, she deliberates in horror to Nanami’s ungodly roars that sing his impatience. She dares to look back for a moment, hesitation calling out to her but that doesn’t matter because she chooses to ignore. When Shoko twists to view him, Nanami reflexively captures her throat and slams her down into the table’s surface, leaving her to cry out in pain. She’s held there while he finishes removing all of the clothed barriers between them. “Kento…”, she releases in a soft, broken cry but that turns into a wail as soon as he plumets his girth through her folds. Her voice soon escapes when he begins relentlessly railing her with his length. Usually, he gives her time to at least adjust but as if the other frenzy indicators weren’t enough, she’s made to face his famished, altered state. Ieiri can sense Gojo, Choso and Elska approaching but can only muffle her whimpers that are in response to Nanami shoving himself back into her. ‘Ahh…’, she thinks. ‘It hurts.’.

               Gojo warps into the room but is instantly distressed with what he sees. “Shoko…”, he mutters under his breath, taking in the tears that are staining her face as Nanami barbarically ruts into her. ‘Do I leave?’, he wonders, as this is what they wanted right? For Nanami to take to Ieiri for the physical aspect of the ritual? He knows this is true but when Shoko notices him his eyes widen to the baffling expression on her face.

               “Go.”, she breathlessly requests, trying her best to smile assurance even while it feels like she’s getting pummeled into dough. The fact that Satoru had to see her like that doesn’t even phase her at first, having known that was a possibility from the beginning. She attempts to repeat her request to Gojo but Nanami’s heavy hand palms the side of her head, pressing her cheek into the wood. “Ken…to…”, she gasps out, trying to disconnect from this situation and the fear it’s placing in her heart. ‘Why? Why is this so much worse than I imagined?’.

               Gojo increases his presence instinctually but didn’t mean to obtain Nanami’s attention. When the ravenous blonde turns slowly towards him with violently glowing eyes, Satoru warps out of the room in hopes he didn’t jeopardize everything. Because his actions in the forest were described to him, Satoru’s able to recognize the same lethal irritation exuding from Nanami. Gojo has to be more careful than usual as well since all of the turned obtain the ability to periodically break through his infinity.

               “IS SHE OK!? WHAT IS GOING ON IN THERE?!”, Elska clutches Gojo’s arms when he reappears, “SATI!?”. Her voice evaporates when she listens to Nanami’s grunts through the door, ‘It’s…working?!’, she excitedly asks herself. Instead of receiving an answer, Satoru morosely pulls her in for a hug as if to beckon her for affection. “What’s wrong Sati?”, she softly questions while directing her eyes over to Choso. The being’s serious expression sends a pit into her stomach because she knows Choso is tuning into Nanami’s energy to, in a way, watch him through the walls.

               “I didn’t think it would but it would seem that the plan is working love.”, Gojo drops some metaphorical weight off of his back only to have it replaced with more. He holds Elska close, thankful that she didn’t have to endure Nanami after what he saw. His heart also twinges knowing that Shoko however, currently is.

               Elska rubs his back and rests her lips against his chest, feeling his heart rapidly beat. “She’s not hurt, is she?”, Elska sorrowfully asks into his skin. She waits for the confirmation that she was previously overly concerned but Gojo doesn’t answer. “Sati?”.

               Choso frowns sympathetically. He’s still not convinced that the ritual will be satisfied without Elska performing both acts but is willing to let this ride out in hopes of being incorrect. ‘Maybe I’m wrong…’. His eyes fall to Satoru holding Elska and while studying the pair, he listens to her worried tone when asking about Shoko again. Not knowing what else to do to help, he walks up behind Elska and joins the embrace.

               Satoru can feel the uneasiness through Elska’s energy and morosely informs, “She’s hanging in there, love but it’s not pretty.”. He wishes to spare the details of the vehement sights that plagued his retinas. She shudders in a breath, causing Gojo to depress slightly. “As soon as its over we will be in there to help her.”. He’s torn right now. He can’t even believe that he’s standing idly by while Ieiri gets abhorrently assaulted. Taken back with how he’s not doing anything because its actually part of their all-agreed plan. Even in his darker days, Shoko was always someone he wanted to protect. She’s been so good to him, so supportive and yet structuring and reprimanding when he needed someone to be. ‘Nanamin too…’.  His right hand slides up to hold Elska’s head while he plants a delicate kiss into her hair, sighing.

               Elska clings to her sweet Sati while they search for security within each other. She knows Nanami is likely to feel extreme remorse when his senses return, the kind of man he is would never do what’s being done. “Shoko…”, she whines into Satoru and then thinks to her turned, ‘We should be delicate with both of them after this…’.

               “We will be.”, Choso kindly offers into her ear. He snakes his hands around to the front of her hips but isn’t actually trying to incite anything. He as well regrets that they’re allowing all of this to transpire, especially since Choso fears it’s still somehow in vain. He lifts his head over and stares down the long hall, grateful that Toji and Naoya are at least spared from this grief.

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               Shoko has come to terms with everything unfolding and through the course of acceptance, is even a little less distraught. Her insides feel pulverized though and that part gets worse by the minute. When his movements cease, she holds her breath and asks herself, ‘…Is it over?’. She didn’t feel him meet his release but she also was trying to fill her mind with anything other than what was actually going on. ‘It’s possible that I didn’t notice…’.  He growls behind her, nudging his hips forward. ‘He seems like he’s done though…’, she inhales sharply with respite filling her lungs but doesn’t risk moving or resisting. She waits there, bent over and housing Nanami’s member until he finally steps back and snarls. While remaining still, she stammers out to Elska, “I-I think…I think he’s done!”, but instantly winces when she Kento lunges forward towards her. She shuts her eyes and does her best to remain docile and unthreatening in his presence, whispering, “I will do what you want Kento…please…”.

               Elska runs into the room intending to reach Shoko but halts when her and Nanami exchange gazes. A bead of nervous sweat forms and lurks down her temple when his emotionless yet glaring expression heats her. She’s never looked at Nanami like this before, never seen him like this before nor could she have predicted how delectable his red glowing orbs are. Her eyes wander to his bareness and widen upon learning how well-endowed his is, now comprehending that she made Shoko suffer like she, herself, did Toji long ago. ‘Oh Shoko…’, her tears begin to form with the source being her ignorant culpability.

               ‘HE IS YOURS.”.

               Elska swallows, feeling confused with how an insignificantly small part of her yearned to hear that. They haven’t and weren’t going to bond though so only now does she understand that as soon as she pierces someone and initiates their synthesis, that protective instinct burns itself into existence, activating on sight. She doesn’t want Nanami though, not as a lover. When Gojo and Choso race past her, she snaps back into reality and concentrates on getting Shoko out of there.

               Gojo leans down, “Are you alright?!”, standing with Ieiri in bridal carry. His stomach sinks when through tears, she asks, “Is it really over?”, because even when he confirms that yes, it is, she stares back at it him unconvinced. “Choso is going to take care of you now, ok?”, he sweetly suggests while passing her over into the being’s arms. Satoru’s gaze becomes stagnant against the floor where the dresser and wood meet. ‘Are they going to be ok after this?’, he internalizes, wishing there were a way to save Shoko and Nanami from this fate. ‘She’s normal… and they’re both well rounded people. Good people. Will this be too much?’. He’s notices that Nanami hasn’t done much other than growl behind him but right as Gojo is turning around to restrain him so Elska can give her blood, his love yelps.

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               Choso runs past the will-be living room and kitchen, only stopping when reaching where his day began. On a small loveseat in the bedroom, he gently lays the battered woman down. With care, he checks over her body to assess for injuries but then grants her modesty by covering her with what remains of her lavender gown. “Some bruising and cuts…”, he frowns thinking about how the frenzied state can make anyone do anything. She turns to her side and curls into a ball along the cushions, quietly crying to herself, depressing Choso greatly. “I’m sorry this happened…”, he laments while healing her, “Do you want to rest for a while?”, he asks attentively after sensing her reverse technique. She releases a broken yes, causing Choso to lean over and hug her while whispering, “Alright, don’t worry, we will take it from here…”. Nuzzling his face into her as he would Elska to make her feel better, he sweetly breathes out, “Sleep.”.

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               “STOP!”, Elska screams as Nanami flattens her against the floor with his body. He roars loudly into her face, bearing his fangs when she doesn’t make direct eye contact. “Something’s not right!”, she yells over to Gojo, but stops her struggling and freezes when Nanami’s tongue can be felt licking up between her breast to her neck. “Damnit…”.

               “Fuck.”, Gojo looks down, perceiving Nanami’s erection, “Love, we have a problem…”. His negative emotions flourish under the apprehension but his logical side takes over and puts the pieces together.

Nanami didn’t finish.

‘Why did Shoko say he was done?’, Satoru wonders while carefully approaching Nanami from behind, even masking his presence for caution. The blonde seems to drown his nose in whatever was left of the scent, dragging it along her skin and licking areas that captured higher potency. That alone is making Gojo rather nervous but it almost seems like the aroma is actually causing the newly turned to relax, or become more focused. ‘What the fuck do we do now?!’, he wonders while deciding the best way to grab and restrain his friend. ‘Is this really how it has to be?!’.

Elska’s eyes lock onto to Gojo, vigilantly not making any sudden moves and allowing for Nanami’s caressing to continue. She tenses up every time his slick member brushes against her inner thighs, secretly asking the universe to bring him back to sanity. She’s not finding any pleasure from her best friend’s boyfriend’s touch but until they figure out another course of action, catching him off guard will be their best option. The moment comes. Satoru wrestles Nanami’s arms behind his back and uses all of his physical strength to topple him. Elska quickly collects herself and stands, slowly creeping backwards as she ruminates over what can be done now.

“TAKE HIM.”.

“No.”, Elska’s eyes narrow as they fall to Nanami. “I will not.”.

“THEN HE WILL SUFFER.”

She grinds her teeth hard enough for them to squeak, frustrations building upon one another, layering themselves inside of her where space is limited. When Nanami shrieks his daunting call, falling further into his frenzy, Elska hears Gojo shout, “CHOSO! HE NEEDS TO SLEEP!”. Elska’s eyes glow and she autonomously beelines for her new turned. Something tells her that Nanami will not survive if Choso succeeds.

“Love, stay back!”, Gojo leans his weight forward again but the closer she gets, the more wildly Nanami bucks beneath him. “Shit…”, his eyes dart up to his love and then over to Choso who barrels into the doorway.

Choso lunges for Elska, catching her in his arms, “What’s happening?!”, he asks frightfully upon registering that something’s wrong. Elska fights his hold but he sturdies his muscles, “Master…calm down…please…”, harnessing her until she settles.

Gojo slams his own mass into Nanami, “I know I owe you man but you’re being extremely fucking difficult right now!”. He’s picking up on how intense the blonde is becoming and has to confront his own feelings on this. ‘Does he need my love?’, he blankly asks himself as his eyes find Elska. His brow twitches to his confliction. Let Nanami go so he can ravage Elska or keep Nanami away and risk finding out what the consequences are? He needs both of them to be ok, Shoko too. “Fuck…”, he murmurs under his breath anxiously, “Which answer is best?”.

“Don’t put him into a R.E.M. state my hybrid, please!”, Elska begs Choso with urgency, “He won’t come back if you do!”. In a bizarre panic she intensifies her presence in a subconscious attempt to steal control of the room.

Choso looks over to Gojo but answers, “I won’t then, don’t worry…”, and calls for his wings, wanting to buffer out her aura. ‘He might react to her…’. His grasp on Elska tightens as the bones form through his skin but as soon as they breach his epidermis, he sighs and wraps his burgundy feathers around her. Elska responds as he was hoping, tucking into him which in return gives him the sensation of being her protector.

Nanami isn’t flailing underneath him anymore but Gojo stares down at him, concerned with this sudden decrease in activity. The blonde merely grunts deeply, grunting in agitation until he goes completely silent. ‘What is he doing?’, Satoru’s eyes flinch, feeling an accumulation of energy being manipulated.

Elska’s attention deviates from Choso and she’s now using her arms to peel away his wings so she can see. “SATI!”, she cries, something is sending her haywire and it has to do with Kento, “GET AWAY FROM HIM!”.

Nanami roars demonically, trying to call for his own wings but they don’t fully develop. It’s as if he was only learning by example without having the fundamentals down and witnessing Choso’s develop triggered the blonde to understand that he too was capable of this. All he’s able to produce are bare boned limbs with a few light grey feathers sporadically placed about. They look painful, fractured and malformed. Through Nanami’s frenzied anger, he was able to slice through Gojo’s infinity and ends up impaling the silver shaman through the abdomen.

Choso watches in horror as the newly turned pushes off the ground, aiming in their direction, with Gojo falling behind him, “Satoru!”, he shouts, mortified by Gojo being caught so off guard. He finds it unusually careless, but gives pity when coming to the idea that it’s because it’s Nanami. Choso throws Elska to the side, trying to get her out of harms way but that act cost him time he needed to defend.

Elska stumbles but turns around to catch Nanami’s energized attack fly into Choso’s head, melting half of the being’s face. Her eyes widen as Choso’s cries fill the room, “My hybrid!!!”, but that’s when she notices Gojo on the ground just out of view because of the bed, “SATI!”. She takes a deep breath as Nanami hones into her, grounding herself for a brawl. She thinks to them, ‘Choso, please take Sati and go feed from Toji and Naoya right now. I will deal with him.’. She peers around the stalking blonde to see her hybrid’s watering eyes and disfigured face. It crushes her soul, infuriating her even further that this has come to be. Forming her fangs and calling for her own wings, she prepares herself for the collision, Nanami picked up his pace.

They clash and vicious snarls can be heard as they combat each other but Choso obeys her command and tries to lift the silver shaman. As he’s dragging Gojo out of the room, her voice sounds of anguish so he obsessively looks back to make sure she’s alright.

Nanami scratched up her shoulder while ripping away the strap to her dress but Elska tries to hide this fact because Choso is clearly apprehensive. “GO FEED!”, she commands with ferocity, getting to her feet and turning her body to hide her wounds. She could easily have fixed them all up by using her life from death technique but that would require killing Nanami. Not an option. She also doesn’t want her turned around in case this fight goes south for her. When the door slams shut, she uses her wings to propel over the bed onto the other side, creating distance. Nanami gears up to run towards her so she prepares herself to swiftly dodge past him, like cat and mouse. She smirks as her feet spring off the floor and she takes to the air, ‘Maybe I can tire him out…’, crossing her mind right before they align. She saw he’s gathering energy but calculated that into her ploy.

Nanami releases the energized attack, it coursing through Elska and then out to the floor. She collapses into the wood on her side, moaning in transient agony from the 4ft fall. She begins to panic. She’s unable to move her limbs at all and her wings evaporated. ‘This is just like…’, she delves with a pit forming in her gut. He used the same paralyzing attack Toji did. Elska can’t do anything but bare her teeth at the wall as her new starved turned mounts himself behind her, twisting her chest into the floor. She feels his weight easing onto her thighs but he then pulls back on her shoulder to roar into her the side of her face. She shrinks, eyes brimming for life’s inevitability, for what is about to happen. ‘He got me…’. As Elska is wallowing in the regrets that have created this lamentable situation, he rolls her completely to her back and spreads her deadweight legs.

Nanami asserts himself into position, folding Elska in half and using his body to keep her wedged like that as his arms lower him over her. He gives a long, lowly growl as he leisurely drags his lips up her arm to her neck. Angling his waist, he sinks his length down into her completely in one stroke. Elska cries out initially because of his size but a hand is soon wrenching around her throat, eliminating her sounds. She screws her eyes shut, trying to pretend that Kento Nanami isn’t slaying her with his long sword but his voice bleeds through her fabricated illusion. He leans over her, burying himself to the hilt before hammering his hips into her flesh. His snarls tickle her ear inadvertently as he hovers his mouth right by it. If he were one of her lovers, she’d be puddy in their hands. ‘But it’s Nanami!’. Her eyes shoot open, her fingers twitching to move and to her dismay just like the night with Toji, it’s not enough. She intensifies her presence again, not counting herself out yet, even as he proceeds to mercilessly fuck her. Their glowing eyes reach each other though and in her instant of displaying the fight left it her, he reacts by cruelly flipping her over.

               She flops into the wood, becoming more defensive as Nanami mounts her flattened form. “Why…why is it taking so long?”, she whimpers into the floorboards defeatedly. Noises of strain leak from her lips when Nanami prods back in, her body feeling beaten since she didn’t feed after Gojo either. His first entire stroke almost felt good, it left her reminiscent of her beloved but that comfort soon fades when he seemingly uses all of his mass to crash into her with each unforgiving thrust. Her bones compress into the hard ground, rubbing the pointy landmarks and skin raw from the friction. She can’t do anything but lie there and deal with what she’s created. He leans his hips all the way into her, bending himself nearly backwards, the angle penetrating so deeply that she’s left feeling additionally violated. It leads her to think about Shoko and also about how Nanami is going to cope once he’s stabilized.

               “HE IS YOURS.”

               “No, HE IS NOT!”

               Elska’s knees and elbows respond and flex a little, ‘I have to stop this!’, she screams internally, guilt flooding her heart. She focuses all of her might into pushing up but Nanami lays him chest into her back, and sinks his fangs where her nape meets the shoulder junction. His bite feels amazing. Elska melts to the Master’s Ecstasy and even moans to its pleasure as he hooks his teeth in place to resume his feral bout. Her shaky hand is able to raise up and into his hair, where she grabs ahold of what she can. His rampant mannerisms are beginning to quell but he continues rolling his hips, only he’s now performing in an almost adorning way. He drinks tiny amounts at a time too, which confuses her because he’s starved but all of this eludes her as her body responds to his length’s new rhythm, slickening his shaft. After a few seconds his threatening noises turn into whimpers, his bliss being made apparent as he spills some of her blood to moan. He dives back in though and feeds completely now, wholeheartedly devouring the essence that his cells are violently craving.

               “Master…”, the words trickle out of Nanami seductively, against her skin. He’s starting to see things a little more clearly now but he’s still not all there. He lifts his fangs from Elska’s neck and postures himself upright to see how he’s submerged into her womanhood and has rooted into her from above. After closing her wounds, he brushes her hair aside and studies the red fluid that lies contrast to her skin. He zones out, reliving everything that he did, stilled in space and time while putting together what’s become of him.

               “Na…Nanami?”, Elska catches her breath, shaking off how for a second there, passion was blossoming, “I need you to be calm…”, she requests this with caution in her tone, “I’ll explain everything.”. She thinks he is back to himself now that he’s fed but wonders why he’s still inside of her. “…Nanami?”. She whimpers to the discomfort of him shoving himself in deeper when he folds over and shakes in pain. ‘The sensory overload.’.

               Nanami nearly pulls his own hair out when the debilitating cindering ache catapults through his brain. He wants to scream but its so painful and sudden that he simply can’t. He hides his face in Elska’s hair until it subsides, his breathing being the first thing he tries to control in order to sway the remaining symptoms. He hears Elska say his name but it seems so faint. “Master…”, he releases in a gasp when he finally is left untrodden from whatever the fuck that was.

               Elska’s breath hitches until she can finally force out, “It’s me Nanami, Elska…”. She wishes he could see her face just to add the emphasis. She contemplates on how he might be confused, that maybe there’s something residual going on with his state. “I’m not Shoko…”.

               “I know.”.

               Nanami rolls his hips again, flushing them to her rear, groaning to her astonished moan. His arms prop him up, the muscles bulging from strain as he does it again. And again. He can’t help himself. There’s something in him that desires this now, where as this wasn’t anything that existed prior. Her arousal seeps out, driving him mad but he doesn’t fully understand why. He just knows that he needs to do this.

               Elska’s turned over once more but is stunned by the wildly lustful expression that he’s sporting. She’s beside herself with his sensual side and is reminded that it’s probably because she was never supposed to become familiar with it to begin with. “What are you doi-…”, but she’s shushed by his lips and understands why when he enters her again.

               “I don’t know…”, he confesses, briefly freeing her to say so. Nanami senses that she’s still impaired from that strange attack and probes his thoughts on whether she would’ve run by now or not if she wasn’t. Something pings to him that she wouldn’t. The sounds of their wettened skin smacking echoes around them, encouraging his tongue into her mouth. He doesn’t understand why he’s doing this. He loves Shoko and he knows it. When he releases Elska from the aggressive kiss and stares into her eyes though, he’s overcome with an irrational urge to fill her. He lets her whimper and gasp to his efforts, giving her room to breathe while studying the one visible bouncing breast. The calamitous shared satisfaction that meets between their gazes causes him to inch closer to finality.

               Elska can’t deny that there’s something strange going on here nor can she deny the fact that he’s undoubtedly pleasuring her now. “Nana-mi…”, her voice trails off, mirroring guilt and contentment, seemingly dragging him deeper into this delusional moment. She tilts her head back against the floor, silently crying out when she feels him coaxing out an orgasm. ‘No…’, a voice inside of her wails but the one that reaches ears cascades into a melody of sweet release.

               Nanami’s brow furrows when he feels her walls convulsing, his hips now stuttering as he explodes inside. He begrudgingly drives his length into her one more time despite the sensitivity and then rests inside of her. With a sudden rush of clarity after noticing how her turned were waiting outside the room, he’s left with the fact that they let this happen for his sake. In a moment of sheer muddle, Nanami rolls her to her stomach once more but slips back in as if it would help him make sense of this. He ignores her mystified question, “Why are you keeping me here?! You should be fine!”. He hums lowly while running a heavy hand down his face and asks himself, ‘I need to let her go so why won’t I?'

Elska fretfully wiggles around, lightly tugging on his less intense length but instead of removing himself like she’s cueing him to do, he rests a hand on her waist to stop the jostling. “Don’t do that…”, he warns with authority as if she’s in the wrong. Its not that he disliked it at all but he certainly is worried about becoming stimulated again. He’s still mulling through explanations as to why he doesn’t want to vacate her folds and slides in a little deeper.

               Elska’s eyes grow wide and glow when she feels him twitching back to life since she’s reminded of Naoya’s awakening. She recalls that her prince seemed to have endless stamina and fears this to be foretelling of her current predicament. “You don’t have to do this anymore.”, she tries to guide him verbally, “The ritual was fulfilled, we did what we had to…we’re bonded now!”. His fingers dig into her waist, “This isn’t your fault Nanami!”, desperately trying to share what she knows to be true. He motions his hips slowly back, her thinking that he’s ready to close this chapter, “Everybody understands why we had to do this…”. What she wasn’t anticipating was him stroking through her as if he wasn’t already left satisfied.

               Nanami’s lip catches between his teeth as he observes his girth part her in slow motion. He knows he needs to snap out of it, that this is wrong but he can’t stop. ‘Master…’, whispers in his mind as he takes in her reluctant pleasure, narrowing his eyes to the truth of his entire existence having been completely altered. He raises a knee, placing one foot on the floor for balance and hoists an arm under her waist to lift her rear closer. “Oda…”, he regrettably calls to her, “I…have to…”. Her body’s flaccidity stings him but he raises her lower half to alignment none the less, moaning deeply as he retraces his steps within her. He moves slowly as if to gain the most of this creamy experience patiently. Her whimpers of undeniable heat call to him as he expands her walls, throwing him into a salacious fit.      

               Elska gasps to his increased pace and how the angle he has her at is unfortunately perfect. She feels her pheromones building but is able to calm herself down thanks to evolution. Not quick enough though because Nanami is soon wrapping his other arm across her chest, lifting her up and back against him. Nanami caught the slight scent and only wanted more.

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Nanami’s been hit by a wave in the past but this was during the time where Gojo was still hiding Elska. She’d only recently been brought between worlds and was kept a secret under lock and key because of how he was directly going against the Elder’s intentions and was never going to comply. Nanami noticed Gojo’s absence from the academy though and his erratic behavior from brief calls and texts, wanting to dig up whatever mischief Satoru was getting into so he could help with damage control. These situations came about often.

After exiting the elevator on the 9th floor, Nanami smiles to how peaceful the hall is with no one else living in them. Creating this kind of seclusion is something Nanami entertains because he hates being bothered on his down time. Walking along the well-lit hall, his steps quicken as he hears a commotion coming from the inhabited apartment. Nanami leans his ear again the door and distinguishes a woman cry, “LET ME GO!!! LET ME GOOOO!”, instantly causing a migraine as Kento is well aware of Gojo’s debauched tendencies. They actually share a few which is how they originally became friends because there’s some things that only a like-minded person can understand. “God damnit Satoru…”, he grumbles, thinking about the victim inside, ‘Who is she? Will I be able to cover this up?’. Deciding he can’t gauge this situation without knowing more, he kicks open the apartment door and angrily shouts, “SATORU!”. He can hear Gojo whine his annoyance from the down the way so he follows the voice, “We talked about this Satoru, you can’t just do whatever you want with wome-…”

Nanami sees Elska for the first time but has no immediate words to share as he takes in her nude, roughed up state. The woman has clearly been crying for quite some time and looks like stress is doing a number. “Jesus Christ…”, he mauls out while inspecting her fabric restrains that keep her in a lude position, on her back in the bed. She doesn’t even scream for help but stares back at Kento with fright as if she fears the worst from his arrival. “Shit…”, he spits before furiously snatching Gojo’s naked form and dragging him out of the room. He throws the silver shaman against the entertainment center while screaming, “Who is SHE? What the hell are you doing to her!?”. When Gojo stands up straight but remains silent, it pisses Nanami off more, “Do you understand what the law is?”.

Gojo snickers, “The problem is, it doesn’t understand me.”.

Nanami narrows his eyes, finding no comedy here, “Who is she, Satoru?”.

Gojo looks away but shares, “My woman.”. Listening to her rustle around in the room brings a smile to his face because her fighting spirit holds onto escaping. “She’s the one I want.”.

“Oh-my-fucking-God.”, Nanami sighs out aggravatingly, “I’m taking her with me Satoru, I have to clean this shit up. I can’t believe you.”. Gojo disappears without notice and while Nanami is looking around the room, his brows converge when the girl starts screaming again. “SATORU GOJO!”. He runs into the room to find Gojo perched between her legs, already inside of her as if he’s in a race against time. Nanami charges for Satoru but he’s met with a chilling expression from his silver haired cohort, that stops him dead in his tracks. Once internalizing that Nanami won’t act, the warning in his dark blue eyes fades and become half-lidded and lighter in hue, his attention turning back to the girl he’s sloshing through.

               Nanami and Gojo have some similarities but Kento would absolutely never force a woman against her will, nor hold her prisoner. His mind, running a million miles a minute, trying to devise a deescalating approach to spare the poor girl, leaves him frozen as his eyes feast on Gojo’s pure pleasure.

               Gojo moans with nearly each thrust into her, cooing to how she contracts around him even while her eyes say she’s disgusted. “You are mine now Elska…”, he leans down, chasing her turning head as she fights to avoid the kiss. He finally snatches her jaw and glares menacingly down into her, “Don’t make me look bad in front of my friend now.”, tittering to her wild eyes that glow with revenge. “I know!”, he says cheerfully, burying himself within her folds, “Let’s show Nanamin what you can do!”.

               Nanami steps forward, “GET OFF OF HER SATORU! WHAT THE FUCK!?”, finally braving to reach down and pull him off. Gojo dips down to her neck though and snatches her skin between his teeth and Nanami can’t help but be stunned by her incredibly seductive moan. The next thing he knows, there’s an incriminating but wonderful scent filling his lungs. The wave almost caused him to fall back as it blasted through the air but he catches himself and hunches over while anxiety plagues him.

               He’s burning up.

               His chest tightens.

               He can’t breathe.

               When Nanami finally lifts his eyes to see Elska, everything cools but then the urges to conquer her set in.

               Gojo kisses her cheek before sitting back up, rocking his hips harder now that he’s been riled up by the scent. “So…”, he pants, “Good…fuck…”, he can’t help his vulnerable tone as he ruts into her, edging to his orgasm. She’s so fucking wet that he can feel her mess on his thighs, this temporarily saving the illusion that she desires him as well. He’s been waiting for Nanami to strike, thinking that any second now, Gojo will have to deflect the lust-driven shaman. He was never going to share his Elska but he wanted Nanami to understand his obsession and figured exposing him to the scent was a sure-fire way of obtaining this goal. To his bewilderment though Nanami is simply glaring at him when Gojo twists around, which inadvertently is the same moment in which his seed spills into her.

               From that moment on, Nanami vowed to watch over Elska, but he couldn’t make Gojo do anything, he’s the six-eyes wielder after all. What he could do was pick and choose his battles with the insanely powerful man and try to guide him down a path that would be less tyrannical, violent and oppressing. No one else really knew how to or dared to try handling Gojo other than himself and Ieiri. They were the only three that could know of this. Of what Gojo was doing.

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               Nanami’s finds his stance and while dangling Elska in his hold, begins feverishly pistoning through her again. She cries out in crumbled phrases but can tell that she at least enjoying it. This still doesn’t make sense though. He forms his fangs and instinctually bites her once more and exhales heavily to the vastly coded figures of her taste. ‘Why?’, he asks himself, the coil in his groin preparing to fail. She compresses an illusive growl, he’s thrown off for a second but that’s when he’s gifted with a fresh wave of that scent. His voice dominates hers as every fiber in his being seeks the bliss her body and nature are offering. When he reaches his high, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s being.  

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               Choso clears the last bit of distance down the long hall with Satoru in tow. He’s riddled with sharp, burning pain but worked through this in order to get back to the room. “Gojo, you’re too big!”, he whines while using the eye he had left to navigate. If it weren’t for the adrenaline, Choso knows he would have succumbed to his wounds. Toji’s closer to them so he hoists Satoru onto the giant and lightly slaps his face, “You need to feed!”, he tells the unconscious, bleeding shaman. Choso senses a strange attack from the other end of the hall which alerts him of what’s happening, “GOJO!”. He knows that Elska is probably getting wrecked right now and this eviscerates what was left of his nerves. On edge and in a hurry, the being forms his fangs and pierces Satoru’s bicep.

               Gojo’s bright blue eyes blare open but they darken once he’s in touch with his injuries. He sees Choso’s wounds when the being raises his head and jolts, “Where the fuck is your face?!”.

               Choso growls and in a rash moment of impatience, arches his wings and threateningly instructs, “I’d ask the same of your pancreas but we don’t have time. Feed from Toji!”.

               Satoru looks down, eyeing the giant and then his own abdomen, “Fuck…”, he grumbles, “I told you guys that Nanamin was strong…”. He dazedly watches Choso crawl onto the bed before crouching next to Naoya and that’s when it hits him, “Nanamin!”.

               Choso looks up, “Exactly! FEED!”, but swiftly dips down to awkwardly pierce his Zenin friend, not getting the best angle.

               After feeling Elska and Nanami’s energy levels fluctuating, Gojo follows suit. Grimacing in discomfort when he twists his body, “Time for me to finally taste you, big guy…”, he rejoices before sinking his fangs in.

               Toji wakes up and is rendered useless in terms of defense. He imagines at first that it must be Elska which allows a gratified moan to leave him. “Doll…”, he mutters as he opens his eyes, that of which unfasten completely when he sees Choso on top of Naoya. “What the fuck are you doing?!”, he goes to move but those entrancing fangs sink deeper, leaving him enamored.

               Naoya feels the weight on top of him and is instantaneously annoyed. “Get outta here…”, he tosses out while lazily swatting a hand away. He hears, “Naoya, I need your help…”, and bends his neck forward with squinting eyes, “Cho? What’s wrong?”.

               Gojo lushes in Toji’s powerful flavor, the sheer danger in the giant nearly making his eyes roll back. He’s glad they didn’t because he’s able to witness Choso gently widening his jaw against Naoya’s neck again. The Zenin’s reaction to the second bite entertains Satoru’s eyes and ears while his mind bathes in Toji’s feelings. What Satoru is tasting right now, this complete depth of devotion, is meant for Elska and this is when Gojo puts together that Toji isn’t aware. ‘That makes more sense…’, he discerns, having expected Toji to have tried to kill him by now. A flicker of arousal sprinkles into his seasoning which causes Gojo to falter, ‘Woah big guy…that tastes sexy.’. As much as Satoru likes to tease and harass Toji, Satoru also knows that everyone has their limits. He may be able to escape further brutality if he stops feeding right now, before Toji becomes too erotically provoked. ‘He’d fucking kill me if I gave him a boner…’. Lifting his face away from the giant and closing his wounds, he warps over to Naoya in an attempt to assist, “Let him feed, little Naoya, he’s hurt.”.

               Toji sits up in the bed, rubbing his neck while searching for Elska. “Doll?”, he calls out with muddle, still hazed from the sensual wake up call. He adjusts his growing member over his briefs, while trying to figure out what’s going on. Naoya starts shouting at the others but Toji heard something else too so he tells everyone to shut up. He holds his hand out until he hears it again, his eyes flickering sadness, “Doll.”.          

               Naoya now comprehends that Nanami woke up and is frantically trying to get to his feet but is failing under Choso. “CHO! GET THE FUCK OFF!”, he roars, “WHERE IS SHE!?”, finally throwing the being aside.

               Gojo sheers away his carefree demeanor for the sake of getting this over with. He looks over to Shoko, still in a R.E.M. state, “We tried our best…”, his presences weakens, “…but it would seem we couldn’t avoid Nanami bonding with her.”.

               Toji’s hand that was reaching for the knob, retracts. His head tilts forward as he hides his emulsified shame. After having heard both Getou’s and Choso’s bonding experiences, compiled with his own and Gojo’s, his stomach turns for Elska. “How bad off was he?”, he avoidantly asks, eyes averted to the door.

               “IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER!”, Naoya’s deep voice shatters the tense air.        

               “YES IT DOES BOY!”, Toji barks his purgatory. Toji understands that this may have been their only solution from the get go, that she was going to have to do this with Nanami. That doesn’t mean it sits well though. ‘Doll…’.

               Choso tries to place a hand on Naoya’s bare shoulder but the Zenin jerks the joint angrily, “What the fuck is wrong with you guys?! You know what he’s doing to her!!”.

               Toji pounds his fist into the door, having lost his cool. He stomps towards his cousin with raging red eyes before spitting, “We-can’t-fucking-stop-it-NAOYA!”. The Zenin doesn’t back down but seems to register the veracity, so Toji adds, “If we interfere, we don’t know what will amount from this. I don’t fucking like it either, none of us do!”.

               Gojo walks up to Naoya, “He’s right. We need to let this happen…”, remorsefully wishing it wasn’t so.

               Naoya scoffs, and wickedly seethes, “Shut the fuck up. You probably wanted him to do this, you sick fuck.”.

               Choso rushes off the bed when Gojo tackles Naoya into it. He anxiously looks over to Toji but the giant merely folds his arms and supervises the quarrel. ‘They can’t fight!’, he thinks to himself worriedly.

               Satoru pins Naoya’s wrist by his head but leers down to his face, “I know you’re pissed off about what’s going on but don’t you dare think for a second that I want this.”. Naoya flashes his fangs, completing his intimidating glare but Gojo proceeds, “How do you think it feels to know my love has to take his dick to fix my fucking mistakes? Hmm?! How much rage do you think I harbor for this outcome knowing I’m the cause?!”. Gojo jars his weight into the Zenin’s wrists, “If we stop them…”, he takes a deep breath to deflate his fury, “…her and Shoko both would have suffered for nothing. Nanami could die too…for real this time.”.

               Naoya looks through Toji to the door, honing in on her presence and taking in its story. From what he can tell, it’s lessened from a few minutes ago but not in an alarming way, ‘Maybe it’s not going as bad as we thought…’. Gojo releases him with heavy eyes but Naoya gets that he was just telling it like it is. The Zenin tries to accept this and looks into the mirrors on the wall, fixing his hair. He knows it won’t mean for much but he at least wants to be presentable when he rescues her with aftercare. ‘Will she think I love her less?’, he asks himself, clouding his honorable moment. Turing around, he looks across them all, “Our princess might assume we’re angry at her because of this so maybe we should plan something nice once this is over…”.

               Gojo smiles warily, “I agree, let’s do something.”, losing his tonicity when Naoya is obviously complying. He takes the few steps necessary to near the Zenin and hugs him while explaining, “You can organize everything if you’d like.”.

               Naoya pushes Gojo away with a pout but gives the slightest smile to show that he’s at least not against them. He has plenty of smart-ass remarks but doesn’t have to spirit to crack jokes while the bonding is occurring. Bringing his eyes to the floor, Naoya apologizes to Toji, “I’m sorry I was being a dick Toji. I was just…you know…”.

               “I don’t get an apology?”, Gojo asks Naoya while jumping his brow to Choso, “Guess I’m not important.”, speaking as if he already knew this. He’s also trying to desperately lighten the mood.

               Naoya chuckles reluctantly, “Well you are a sick fuck…why would I take that back if I’m right?”. To his surprise, Gojo grins as if he truly appreciated that statement.

               Toji sighs, listening to Elska and Nanami’s moans with his exceptional ears. He, like the other turned, identify as monsters for simply monitoring this event but could never find the first reason that would deem Kento unworthy of saving. His mouth waters when he hears possible evidence of her orgasming but his heart takes a laceration to the thought of this exchange changing her and Nanami’s relationship dynamic. He likes Nanami a lot, always has. Toji doesn’t want anything to skew the role the manager plays with her though, ‘Him and Shoko are good together, there’s no way he’d leave that behind.’, eases his thoughts. He also gets rid of his jealousy, knowing that if she’s brought to her release then perhaps she isn’t suffering.

               Choso smiles, and thinks back to how sweet Naoya’s blood was and matches it to the man’s personality. He’s not drank from enough people to appreciate how rare a flavor like that is in totality, but he finds it to be delicious none the less.

               Naoya sees the being staring, “Don’t be weird, Cho.”, he taunts while trying to lighten his sulking mood. ‘What if she’s messed up from this?’, he questions about Elska when he views Shoko, ‘What if they all are?’, he hopes not. He maneuvers past Toji and by the door, “When can we go in there?”.

               Gojo senses that bonding is likely over now, “Give it a few more minutes and then we’ll leave.”. He wants to make sure they don’t show up before Nanami has gained his sensibilities, knowing that if they do, it could send him into a frenzied state again. Satoru hides his discontent as he hones into their presences, discovering that it would seem they went an additional round. When ugliness begins to fill his heart, Gojo shakes his head and remembers that he’s the one that hurt Nanami in the first place. Kento wouldn’t be in that room on top of his love had he not torn through them all in the forest that day. When he looks around the room to the others, he reads the apprehension over the unknown, all the what ifs. He too has many questions but some answers, he hopes he never comes across.

               ‘My love and Nanamin don’t have feelings for each other…right?’.

((I apologize for the delay of this chapter, I needed time to deal with a significant loss. Thank you for your patience and also for reading. I hope this was alright and worth the wait. The next chapter will be out this coming weekend.))

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Tagging : @syynnaaah @angelofthorr @itstackytime @animemenrbettr

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Like Dusk And Dawn | Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Reader, Ukai Keishin, Sawamura Daichi

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Warnings: Angst to fluff, TW(hints of self-harm, suicidal ideation, depression) read at your own discretion.

Word Count:  2273

Summary:  As the day shifts into night, so do you. A change so smooth and noticeable when you pay attention, and so sudden when you don’t. Your head was always wracked with the fear and doubt; your boyfriend, Tsukishima Kei, never seemed to help the situation either.

A/N: I wrote this a little while ago and didn’t really think much of it, but now reading back on it I actually cried. Thank you @satan-ruler-of-hells for basically Beta’ing for this (sowwy I made you cry bb)

----

As the day shifts into night, so do you. A change so smooth and noticeable when you pay attention, and so sudden when you don’t. Your head was always wracked with the fear and doubt; your boyfriend, Tsukishima Kei, never seemed to help the situation either. Behind closed doors he could wash away your worries for the night, but when he was in person, he acted as though you didn’t exist, ego bloating at the compliments of other women.

Your body shook as you moved closer to the gym doors, gently knocking. You silently cursed yourself when you realised that they probably couldn’t hear you over the noises inside and proceeded to push the door open slowly, “excuse me.” Your voice is so soft that even the wind managed to triumph over you.

Tsukishima caught sight of you, expression not changing, only briefly switching to annoyance as he missed a receive.

“Can I help you?” The coach stepped in front of you, you’d heard Tsukishima mention his name, Ukai. 

“I need to speak to Tsukishima.” You swallowed hard, not sure if he even managed to hear you, that thought confirmed by the confusion on his face. “Tsukishima…” you slowly pointed at the blond and Ukai followed your line of sight and nodded with a smirk on his lips.

“Oi, Tsukishima, you have another love confession,” your heart strings tugged. You’d always assumed that he had at least told his team about you, but it only confirmed that he didn’t. Worry washed over you. He grinned at Yamaguchi, who almost looked jealous, jogging over to you. Closing the door behind him.

“What is it, Y/N?” He checked the windows over his shoulder before allowing himself to look worried.

Tears pricked in your eyes as you stepped back away from him, “another love confession?” You asked. You couldn’t help the pain it caused you; how were you ever going to compete with all the women? Kei ran his hand through his hair and rolled his eyes.

“Is that really what you want to talk about right now?” His voice is so cold that you shudder, nodding and trying to keep looking him in the eyes. “Fine, we’ll talk about that.” He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Some girls told me they liked me. There, did that make you feel better?” Harsh words. Maybe he was just trying to make sure no one heard him lose his cool.

You shook your head and he looked off into the distance.

“I just wanted to know why you don’t show me affection in public.” You clenched your fists hard until you were sure you'd broken the skin, shifting them and silently repeating the process.

There was that glare he was known for. It wasn’t special for you; you didn’t want it to be. You wanted the boy you’d fallen in love with, but each time it felt like he was slipping away from you with no hope to get him back. You weren’t any better. Each time he managed to break a wall, you’d be secretly building it back up.

“This shit again?” He growled.

“It would really mean a lot to me if you wou-”

“I already do all that shit for you behind closed doors, why do you need to make it so public?” He shifted his weight. Guilt settled in his stomach when you pulled back away from him.

Something changed on your face and his eyes grew wide. Your fists were still clenched but your body relaxed, a fire seething behind your eyes. “Because I shouldn’t have to listen to the way girls talk about you like your free game; and then you act like you aren’t even taken by me. You don’t even look at me.” Your body was still shaking, you felt so sick, but you knew you needed to face him. “Because I deserve to feel loved and not just like a broken toy.” You had to stop yourself from yelling.

“I’m not taken by anybody.” He turned to face you fully. You stared into his eyes, searching for a hint of sympathy that you’d see on those dark nights.

There was nothing.

“So, what am I to you?”

“You’re just what you said, a broken toy I can play with until I get bored.” He didn’t mean it. It felt like venom on his tongue the moment that it came out but he couldn’t stop it. “Did you actually think you were special?” Another wave of guilt and he glared harder against it. “Did you ever think I could love someone like you?” One final stab and the tears poured wordlessly down your cheeks.

He knew just how to hurt you. Every single time.

You didn’t step back away from him, neither of you moved; you were still searching for the remorse that you needed to be convinced he did still care; he was waiting for the fight back that you’d normally give him to show him you hadn’t given up.

It didn’t come.

“I guess, I thought you did.” Your voice was so soft again, shaking with a thousand emotions. Kei turned his back to you, not caring that the gym door was now open and his teammates stared at him. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone this time.”

He stopped, hoping you were going to come back to him.

Instead, your head dropped low, letting the tears pour down onto you. Overwhelming numbness filled you. You could barely walk away from him. You just wanted to break down right there, but you had enough dignity left.

You didn’t see him staring after you, longing for you to turn around.

He ran his hands through his hair, biting back the tears that formed in the corner of his eyes. Everyone stared at him in shock as he nestled back into a glare.

________________________

True to your word, you left him alone.

No longer did you look at him with that intense love in your eyes that always worried him; he watched as you buried yourself deeper behind a mask. His team had said they’d never seen a girl bounce back so quickly from what looked like a devastating time, they called you strong. But he could see right through your little act. When the eyes weren’t on you, your face was empty, lacking true emotion. You hid yourself deeper down inside yourself.

The thoughts that wracked your brain kept him awake, for months he’d been worried about you tipping over the edge, he knew you’d been close before and even then he’d had to force you back.

Some days he’d managed to walk home a few metres behind you. Your eyes lingered a little too long, body moved just a little too slow, and there was a worrying smile that tugged at your lips when you crossed almost a little too late. But the car always stopped, and you seemed dissatisfied.

Today wasn’t any different. You’d walked to school with some girls; you were laughing, but it was so empty. You lingered a little too long in the road and the car honked at you, yet you didn’t jump, just sighed and followed them with the same smile.

“Tsukki!” A voice called out to him and he zoned back into what he was doing. He jumped to block the ball, but fell just short and cursed himself. The entire game he’d been out of focus, he was lucky it was only a practice match, or this slip-up could have cost him the game.

“Don’t mind, don’t mind.” Daichi patted the boy on the back, trying to gauge his emotions with a simple smile.

It wasn’t until the third time that he failed to block did he start to feel the rage boil inside of him, his movements so frantic that it almost scared the members of Nekoma. After that, he was quickly swapped out.

Tsukishima stormed out of the gym, slamming the door shut behind him. He wanted to scream, cry and punch something all at the same time. But the thing he wanted the most was to be able to see you. To talk to you. To say sorry for being a jerk. He wanted to hold you in his arms one more time, he’d kiss you a thousand times over and over until you were begging him to stop. He’d gloat and show you off to everyone. He’d put you up on that pedestal that you deserved to be on.

The door opened behind him and he lifted his head to yell, until his eyes landed on your figure, frozen.

“What is going on with you-” Ukai called out to the boy, worry dripped from his tongue. He stopped in his tracks as you stared at Tsukki, some fear danced on your face as you took a deep breath and faced him slowly. Ukai didn’t let the door close, he’d seen a scene almost too similar a few months ago and he wasn’t going to let either party walk away hurt this time.

“Ke-” You started to say, but quickly stopped yourself, “Tsukki.” He was watching you carefully; it managed to put you on edge. There was a wave of relief as you spoke to him, your voice as angelic as ever.

“L/N…” he spoke so softly that he wasn’t sure you’d heard him. “What are you doing here?” It was late after school had finished, it wasn’t like you had any club to go to, so why were you here of all places?

You paused, lips in a tight seal. That wave of sadness smashed through your eyes. How were they always so open and yet no one ever dared to look deep enough to see the horrors of your soul? “I… I don’t know.” You admitted, scratching your neck. “I just decided to come here, I guess. I wasn’t really thinking, I can go-” you started to walk away from him, the only thing stopping you was his desperate voice calling out to you. It tugged at your heart.

“Wait!” He sounded like he was in so much pain; every movement seemed to be more painful than the last, he could finally see you again and he’d never felt so much joy. You didn’t turn back to face him, your fists clenched again. Anyone could see you were fighting back tears. “Stay.” He pleaded with you.

The wind blew your hair away from your neck, revealing a few deep scars that made him want to drag you into his arms. “Why? I’ll just end up distracting you, or pissing you off again.” Your voice was shaking now, even as you tried to remain steady.

“Because I need you.” Admitting it almost felt like a deep burn. A betrayal to himself and everything he stood for; it was worth it when you almost turned to go back to him.

“What?”

“I need you, Y/N, do you want me to scream it?” You didn’t respond and he took that as confirmation. “Fine…” he grumbled, and took a deep breath. “I need you, and I miss you! I just want you back and I want to make things better.” It was working, whatever it was, it was working and you weren’t running. “I want to kiss you. And hug you. I want to show you off to everyone and anyone. I want to hold your hands and eat your shitty lunches-” you choked back a laugh, “- I’ll parade you around on my shoulders and make sure every girl and guy knows you are mine!” This was the part he’d hated rehearsing in the mirror. “Because… I-”

You cut him off, turning around with tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t move any closer towards him, that anxious feeling pulled at you, warning you to stay back. He watched the hesitation in your eye before you took a step towards him.

There you lingered, one foot closer to him. He doesn’t mean it, your thoughts pulled you back to your senses, bringing your foot backwards. His heart shattered at the sight.

“Please…” he begged, falling onto his knees. In front of him, you broke down one barrier at a time, vicious tears slipped out of you silently. You didn’t care if their eyes were watching you as that strong exterior you’d spent the last few months building up came crashing down in front of them. You needed to hear it. You felt so weak.

“Do you mean it?” You stood in front of him like a small child, shuffling closer to him even as your mind fought to make you stay back.

Tsukki didn’t move, only kneeling in front of you until he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder, he looked up at Ukai who knowingly smiled at him. Some shared understanding flowed between the two before Tsukki finally stood up, taking strides towards you.

He wrapped you in his arms, your head planted against his chest, listening as his heart picked up speed, pounding almost too much. He leant down his own head, craning his neck just to kiss the top of your head. If he hadn’t of been holding you, you would have crumbled. “I mean it,” he whispered.

After a few minutes of crying in his arms, you finally pulled away to look him in the eyes. There was something much sweeter in them than before, so apologetic and sympathetic for the pain he’d knowingly caused you.

He leant down further until his mouth was close to your ear, “I love you, F/N.”

“I love you, too, Kei.”

----

Taglist:

@pies-writes-and-more @realcube 

If you want to be added to my permanent Haikyuu taglist, then send me an ask or a DM! 

[dinklebat]

A Cursed Work (Part 1) (Part 2)

-

“Tobes, it’s gonna be fine-“

“It’s eas-easy to say for you! Your girlfriend didn’t just…just dump you!” Toby moaned from his position on the hardwood floor, his left hand drumming impatiently.

Ben just rolled his eyes and returned his attention to one of several computer screens circling the room. “I still think you’re overreact- hey!”

The sounds of explosions echoed from the computer’s speakers. Toby tilted up his head to look over at the blonde ghost’s game. “What now?”

“That bastard blew up my house AGAIN. DAMMIT JEFF I’M GONNA BURN DOWN YOUR CROPS AND BANG YOUR MOTHER!” Ben shouted into his microphone, his face flushed red.

“Jeff destroying your im-imaginary home makes you more upset than my REAL girlfriend dum-dumping me?”

“It’s not imaginary! It’s Minecraft and IT TOOK ME A WEEK TO BUILD!”

Laughter echoed from the room across the hall.

“WELL GLAD YOU FIND IT FUNNY JEFF!” Ben yelled back. In a huff, he exited the game and slammed the keyboard onto the ground, shattering some of the keys. “Stupid wannabe grunge hoodie wearing idiot.”

“So?”

Ben swiveled around in his gaming chair, looking down at his friend, collapsed onto the ground in an orange, gray, and brown heap of sadness. “So what, Toby?”

“Are you gonna help me?”

“Uhhhhh no? Clockwork is scary and Camelia is scarier. Plus, isn’t Rowan enough for you?”

“It’s not that Ro-Rowan isn’t enough at all! I love him!” the dark haired boy smiled behind his mouth guard at the though of the cheerful fae. “But I-I-I love Clocky too.”

Ben was quiet for a moment, glancing at the carefully posed action figures littering the shelves and the dozens of posters covering the walls as if they held some clue to his friend’s problems.

“Toby, maybe you should talk with Clockwork about this. Tell her how you feel and stuff,” he suggested awkwardly, fidgeting with his green tunic.

Toby sat up, his neck cracking from right to left. “Actually, there’s some-someone else I-I need to talk to first. Thanks, Ben.”

“Anytime, loser.”

-

“Camelia Adamache.”

The girl glanced up from the book she was reading.Across the room was a boy with dark hair and orange googles. Doby? Cody? Toby? They all looked the same to her.

The brunette girl sighed. She had decided to rest in the common room- a rather nice room with high walls and a polished dark oak floor- this afternoon rather than her own bedroom due the incessant noise from Jeff and Ben’s rooms.

“What do you want?” she asked suspiciously, her Romanian accent a tad thicker than normal.

“I want you to ke-keep away from Clockwork.”

Camelia blinked her large, dark green eyes, completely confused. “Men,” she muttered beneath her breath.

“By whose decree?” she asked, glancing down at her fingernails.

“Wha-what?”

Camelia stood up, gently setting down her leather bound book on the large wooden table.

“Is this order coming directly from you or from one of your superiors?”

The boy scoffed, his neck cracking suddenly, seemingly involuntarily. “It’s an ord- decree from me, your sup-superior.”

“In that case, no,” she replied, not looking up from her nails.

“Ex-excuse me?”

“I do not care for you or your orders. You don’t scare me. If Masky or the Operator himself ordered me away from her, then maybe. But unless you have some sort of reason why I should stay away from her…” she looked up at him, her green eyes filled with an eerie glow. “I see no point in doing so.”

The boy’s hands visibly trembled, even as he clenched and unclenched them. Good. She wanted him to fear her. Fear was power in this hellhole, after all.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of her, pressing her against the wall with his hand and knocking the wind from her lungs.

“You’re new here. You don’t know how things wor-work. That’s fair,” he chuckled without any hint of humor. “But you don’t get to being the second strongest proxy without knowing how to protect what is yours.”

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Touch. Me.”

She grabbed his hand, rapidly moving her mana to the tips of her fingers. The places where his skin met hers began to scald and burn as she released the spell. Yet he did not even flinch, as if he couldn’t feel his flesh burning.

“Oh,” he said softly, watching as the flesh of his hand darkened from her touch. He pulled his hand away and examined it. “Hm. I’m guessing that’s not very good.”

Camelia’s heart rate quickened. Was her magic not working properly?

He looked her up and down one more time, his face curling into a look of disgust. “I don’t get what she sees in you.”

Then he stormed off, not sparing her another glance.

(camelia belongs to @theweepingdemons)

[ladyhindsight]

I'm not sure if Jem is strictly related to Emma (I think Jem's father - who was white - had a sibling, and Emma's line starts there, so I don't think she's supposed to have Chinese genes), but it would have been so cool for the Carstairs to be an Asian family.

It was mentioned several times that Ascended mundanes take SH names, so potentially Clare could have entire families of color and still use her precious English names.

Or she could have written that Jem had a brother who passed on the Carstairs name, and all the heirs married Asian people, thus making the bloodline Asian.

There were so many options smh

It would have been so powerful to finally have two fully POC families (Rosales + Carstairs) in one series!

Or at the very least have Emma mention her Persian heritage.

Instead we got a Jace copy cat and a token religious latina to support her 🙄

Clare wouldn't be half as popular if she didn't play with nostalgia and used old characters to promote new series.

Yet she seems to believe that a mere name is enough to inspire affection.

She made Emma a Carstairs because the name would hit readers in the feels, but did not carry on the narrative of half POC Carstairs because it wouldn't be aesthetic enough and it would be too hard to write. Effort? What's that?

A Jace copy cat though? Much better right?

(It's something that I hated about Kit's storyline, too. Once people find out he's a Herondale, they start calling him Cristopher (even though he HATES it! that's not his name!) and expect him to give up his previous life for them. A mere name is enough for the SH to FORCE someone to join their ranks. Familial bonds? Never heard of them, but you have the right last name so you MUST be with us and readers MUST love you. It's particularly heinous in Kit's case because his father (idc about what Clare says, your family are the people who raise and love you, not the ones who fetishize your last name) was a Downworlder and lived in fear of the SH)

Clare is so attached to names she doesn't realize the narrative she creates around them are very toxic and racist.

And she uses them to manipulate readers and promote sales, without putting in any effort to create likeable, relatable characters.

Readers are beaten over the head with: You Must Love These Characters Because of Their Family Name.

She uses the names for the nostalgia factor but won't put in any actual effort for representation.

Yet people hail her as the queen of rep 🙄 (tbh it's like 99% white people who do that, because for them a character of color being in the story is omg so groundbreaking! consider yourselves lucky that she even writes these characters! who cares if the story is problematic!)

As someone who didn't pay much attention to family trees before, I was SO disappointed when I went from TID to TDA: from half Chinese Jem... to white, blond, golden eyed Emma.

The name was supposed to make me nostalgic and bond to the character immediately (because that's how shallow Clare is) when it actually made me angry lol

(You can probably tell by my anger that I'm Chinese myself 😂 this shit really hurt me, and my friends too)

Tbh I feel no connection between the TID and TLH characters, and the TMI and TDA characters. Even though they're supposed to be related and family is oh so important for Clare...

Cloning characters does not a family make. It makes for terrible storytelling.

Yeah, Jem and Emma have a common ancestor, like you said, and both are thus from different branches. And it’s definitely Clare’s love for “Shadowhunter” names. But you’re just using compound names, essentially just combining two words, surely you could try to do that with different languages instead of keeping them strictly English? There is, of course, Bellefleur and Morgenstern, but they are still rather Eurocentric for being French and German.

Then not all family names even seem to go by this “rule”. There is Mendoza, Rosales, Delgado, Ke, Wang etc. Cristina, Diego, Jaime, and Manuel are all named according to Spanish naming customs where the given name is followed by paternal surname and maternal surname, most commonly in that order: Cristina Mendoza Rosales, Diego and Jaime Rocío Rosales, and Manuel Casales Villalobos.

It was noted under Rosales Family etymology that “Rosales is not exactly a composite word like English Shadowhunter names, its translation (rosebush) is.” So I went to go see the Ke family, and Ke translates to “stem” or “axe handle” in English. So, I don’t get any comprehensive idea behind the Nephilim naming customs, because if the names of some of the Shadowhunter families aren’t following the compound word custom, then why there has to be such a thing as “Shadowhunter names” at all? The English names are heavily underlined and central to the series as a whole. Rosales Family that is mostly Mexican is rather recent compared to the main quartet—Herondales, Carstairs, Lightwoods, and Blackthorns—and hasn’t had (or doesn’t have) such a major role in the series compared to them.

The character should bring the essence to the name, not the other way around.

The series stresses too much the importance of one’s name. Simon can’t continue on being Lewis and must change his name into a Shadowhunter one. But like, why? Why can’t their names be just anything they happen to be? Sure, there can be old and notable families, crème de la crème of the Nephilim, but to limit the possibilities of someone’s name because it is not an English compound one is way too restrictive and merely forces assimilation. You shouldn't have to give up who you are in order to be other things as well.

I so hated that the name was forced in Kit when they found out he’s Herondale. It began to define his character too much. Clare is so incredibly unwilling to let the name thing go. She seems unable to let these families go. Instead of coming up with a completely different Shadowhunter family in another country and telling some other story entirely, she keeps writing about the same characters and things over and over again. Because, yeah, effort? What is that?

When I read CoHF for the first time, I was annoyed with Emma’s chapter because she meant nothing to me, her name meant nothing to me. Oh, she’s Carstairs? So what? Her character was dull to read about. I wanted the final plot to progress, not read a setup for another trilogy through a character that was not interesting.

The Ke family members apparently appear in The Lost Book of the White. But there is no series dedicated to them as there isn’t series dedicated to the Rosales family. In grand scheme of things, it’s never really about any other family at all. All Clare’s representation stand in the sidelines when the pain of Clary and Jace, Tessa and Will, Emma and Julian takes all the space in the story. And they are given it by Clare.

What is Cristina’s complicated feelings about her love life to Emma’s who is about to blow up the world because of her love for her parabatai? Who cares where Maia disappears after having her life threatened as long as Clary and Jace’s story is finished? What about Maia’s own peace of mind and sense of safety when Jordan Kyle needs to have a “redemption arc”? What is Jem’s part in the contrived plot that heavily favors Will Herondale still?

It’s like Clare is unable to create compelling characters that didn’t need their family names to be liked and loved just for who they are as characters. It's lousy, this narrative and the fixation on names, because all they do is end up spoiling everything else. Especially when the author herself doesn't seem to even realize it or care to realize the disrespect her readers feel and the hurt it is causing.

[aperture-of-bullshit]

Why’d they make chiron and Mr d a little odd couple tho

[ponkho]

Dimitry Darrleeyia

The cold, serious and cryptid magician whos past is in flames

Introduction

Full name: Dimitry Keahi Darrleeyia

Meaning: Dimitry means "Earth-lover" and "Devoted/Dedicated to demeter" (greek mythology goddess of corn and harvest). Keahi is a boy's name of Hawaiian origin meaning "flames" . Darrleeyia does not have any meaning, it is there for backstory purposes.

Source 1 source 2

Pronunciation: Dimitry (Dim-mi-tri) Keahi (ke-ah-hí) Darrleeyia (Darr-lee-ih-ah)

Gender: Male, He-Him

Birthday: 15/9

Age: 28

Orientation: Pansexual

Magic: fire, Earth (rocks creation and manipulation)

Occupation: Magician, shop-keeper, fortune teller,

Familiar: Maxwell, the red panda. Cute boy, horrible personality

Love interest: Asra

Shippable? Yes! Absolutely!!

Theme song: Phoenix - Fall out Boy

playlist :)

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

MBTI: ISTJ

Major Arcana: The Moon

Upright: Unconscious, illusions intuition

Reversed: confusion, fear, misinterpretation

Minor Arcana: Ace of Swords

Upright: breakthrough, clarity, sharp mind

Reversed: confusion, brutality, chaos

— Magic —

Fire–- his habilities in general is around fire magic, such as creating a flame from thin air to creating massive explosions. If you manage to enrage him enough his hair will turn into flames and he will breath a black hot smoke.

Earth–- this magic is more on the rock solid part. He's not very good with nature and earth magic (since he tends to burn things down thanks to his fire magic) but he is actually pretty good at rock manipulation. He can creates hard rocks from the ground and create precious rocks even, his most precious rock he can create is diamonds, but for that he needs to have passed through a hard time of stress, sadness or any overwhelming bad feeling, and as a result, two horns made of diamonds will grow to defend himself and look threatening. (He feels embarrassed after, he thinks he was weak enough to let those feelings overwhelm him)

Others habilities: he can speak with animals, cooks amazingly good and he's good at only three weapons: daggers, katanas and Lances.

— Personality and Preferences —

Personality: he's cold, cryptid and too honest. He doesn't give a single shit about how you feel, most of the time, i mean. He is hard to befriend, and always is looking for some hidden lie under any word that comes out of your mouth, but once you get his trust he will still be very cold but he will start showing how he feels. Like, giving gifts, making things. Giving without wanting back.

He has a great talent of getting through lies, so if you really want to deceive him, you gotta be smarter than him. People tend to stay away from his path everywhere he goes, not because bad reputation, but for respect, he can look as calm and cool as he wants but he can and will put you to your place if needed. Dimitry, whenever he wants to impress, he'll act, doesn't know how to talk about feelings or anything, so if he know about something you really want or like he'll get it for you, but will never want to take credits for it, instead he will use the famous "I just happened to be there".

Finally when he really likes someone, his behavior changes totally towards this person. He's calm, loving, sweet, measure his words with care to not hurt, loyal and becomes a little bit protective. He will smile more and if you're lucky, you can even get some chuckles out of his mouth, he'll even create jewels for you, "oh you like knives? Here's a diamond dagger I made."

Never talks about his markings. Unless you have a amazing relationship with him, but even so, he will only give hints and never the whole truth.

Likes: Cooking, talking with Max(well), reading, drawing, playing harp,(He plays it at his bedroom on the palace) silence.

Dislikes: loud people, disrespect, lies.

Fears: losing Max, cages and betrayal

Quirks: he can run extremely fast and thanks to his tail, he can make swift turns without losing much speed. His markings burn when he is enraged, and sometimes they will burn his own clothes.

Favorite food: Gingerbread

Favorite Drink: Hot chocolate

Favorite flower: Gardenia

Favorite color: Mahogany

Most likely to: burn a city down because they messed with one of his friends

★— Appearance — ★

Height: 197 cm

Eyes: Burning orange transitioning to yellow

Hair: long Mahogany colored hair, two long bangs on the front, hair tied up on a bun.

Other: his hair is not originally mahogany, his hair color is the same as the tuff of fur on his tail, wich is, blonde.

Color theme: Mahogany, red, yellows and beige.

Family & Background

Family:

His current adoptive mother is a queen, or as they say, a Leader, wich would make him the next in line

Bianca Wood - biological mother - deceased // Relationship: none

Darek Wood - biological father - alive? // Relationship: Bad

Meghan Rook - adoptive mother - deceased // Relationship: bad

Andrew Rook - adoptive father - deceased // Relationship: horrible

Lys Rook - adoptive sister - deceased // Relationship: he was kind of her slave

???? Darrleeyia - Adoptive mother - alive // Relationship: motherly, friend, family

History

Sit down because it's going to be a long talk

He was born on a very poor little village and his parents never actually wanted kids, it's one more mouth to feed and they almost didn't have food for themselves, he was raised to work hard, he helped on home already at a age when he knew already what was happening around him. His mother never gave him a motherly love and his dad just talked to him to offend or to order him around, not that he cared about it, he thought it was how parents worked. One day his mother fell ill and died, at that age Dimitry was 6, he knew she wasn't coming back and his dad started to put the blame on him for her death, as if he could do anything. One day things got out of hand and his dad became alcoholic, then he started to owe money for people, and he couldn't pay it. So one day, when the opportunity came and he saw that Dimitry could use magic, he sold Dimitry to a couple that needed someone to cook, clean and entertain the guests of their bar on another village. They payed a good price and even more because of the magic Dimitry knew.

When he arrived he felt betrayed, left by his own father. So he thought "Well, he was an ass anyways. I'm sure I'll be better here" unfortunately, it was not what happened. They had already pointed out that they needed someone to cook and clean the bar, wich he already knew and was fine with it but then they started to abuse their power over him. His sister made him clean her bedroom, she would cut his hair just for "fun" and blame him for anything she had done, and of course her parents believed her and only her. He got spanked a lot of times and then he just decided he would never smile or talk again, because every word that comes out of his mouth turns against him, at this time he was 8.

One day a customer, different from all the others came directly at him. It was a woman, taller than everyone in that room, she used a hood and she had an air of superiority. She asked him why he was sad and why did he work so hard, he didn't answer, but she insisted on talking to him, she even invited him to sit on a table to talk with her but he refused since he was working. Then, she told him she had a way of saving him from that place, he was just like her, but because of always restraining his emotions and desires, he didn't look different from all the rest. She would come at night again to have one last talk and it was his choice if he wanted to go or not.

When the woman came back at night, she was without her hood and when she walked in, all the bar fell silent. He finally knew who that woman was. She was the woman from the tales, the legends, she was Darrleeyia, a goddess. She brings warmth, prosperity and happiness whenever she goes, and she was just there, on that miserable bar, just to ask him if he wanted to come home. After she made the question all the eyes fell on Dimitry, he felt anxious for the first time, but he knew she wouldn't be worse than what already was happening to him there, so he accepted her offer. She gave him her hand and they walked out of the bar without interruptions. What about the bar, you say? She burnt it down and she did not hide her satisfaction of it.

Together, they went got on a ship and she took Dimitry where he now can call home.

Five Facts:

Dimitry is allergic to shrimp. He discovered that when the Leader of the seas of the homeland gave him a shrimp as a treat for helping her out. The Leader got in trouble with Darrleeyia later on.

He is ambidextrous

He can purr, but it's rare. Extremely rare that only two people saw him do that. His mother and Maxwell

His body runs at a higher temperature than normal humans.

His diamond horns cannot be broken by anyone other than himself. If someone wants to take it out they'll have to crack Dimitry's skull.

Art References:

I got 99% inspired by @juliandev0rak's Cadmus bio soooo

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Wish I Was Heather (Bill Weasley x reader)

Request: Hi, I would like to place an order for Bill Weasley inspired by Conan Gray's Heather song! Your writing is amazing and i love it

Warnings: slight angst, jealousy

A/N: So this kind of turned into a Percy x reader towards the end. Sorry about that.

Enjoy!

I still remember

Third of December

Me in your sweater

You said it looked better

On me, than it did you

Only if you knew

How much I liked you

I always thought that Bill and I would end up together. We were so much alike, and we liked the same things. I guess as the saying goes opposites attracted, and we were always two halves of the same whole. I guess never meant to be.

When we were together is was like time would stop. I guess it stopped being that way for him. Maybe it was were too much alike, or we were too good to be true, but something in my mind couldn't stop thinking about him. I loved him. I will always love him.

I recall the night we went out on our first date. Fresh snow blanketed the ground and it was cold outside. Me being me I didn't have a sweater that matched my outfit and I wanted to like nice for him. He laughed when he saw me shivering thinking it was adorable before handing me one of his many sweaters.

It felt nice and I felt like his arms were wrapped around me in a tight hug. I'd sleep in that sweater whenever he was away. Making myself feel like be was still there. I hated when he asked for it back. That's when I knew it was truly over for us.

We didn't end on a bad note. He'd still send me letters asking how I'm doing with work and everything. I told him business was slow, but it was good pay and in the end I enjoyed it.

I'd come over for holidays sometimes and he'd still make me feel like I was part of the family. Even though he and were through I knew he still liked me. We just weren't meant to be. It always hurt telling myself that, for I wanted to be held in his arms again and to feel his soft lips on mine once more.

But I watch your eyes, as she 

Walks by

What a sight for

Sore eyes

Brighter than a

Blue sky

She's got you

Mesmerized

While I die  

Then came the invitation. I was happy, but mostly sad that I wouldn’t be able to tell him how much he truly meant to me, but it could never be. He was getting married now. I mean I get it. He loved someone else and i was happy for him. I truly was.

The week of the wedding I came knocking on his parents door having already confirmed staying with them would be okay. I wasn’t expecting a blonde girl to answer the door.

“Hello?”

“Hi I’m Y/N?”

“Oh yes of course Williams old friend. Come in, come in.” She stood aside for you to walk in. A french woman. Go figure I guess.

It was saddening to hear his name slip through someone else’s lips. I tried my best to smile as I made your way into the all to familiar house. I was then greeted by an all too familiar face.

“Y/N I’m glad you were able to make it.” He said as he pulled me into a hug.

I hug him back taking his scent in again. The scent I missed so much. “Of course I came. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“I’m glad.”

I gave him a small smile as he pulled away and went over to the woman, “this is my lovely bride to be Fleur Delacour. Fleur darling, this is my good friend Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you Fleur.”

“You as well. Bill has talked so much about you. It really is an honor.”

“Thanks.” You give a sheepish smile and go sit down.

“Well I should get going. I will see you tomorrow darling.” Fleur said kissing him, and your heart dropped a little.

“Yes my love.” He kissed her hands then her cheek, just like he used to with me and your heart broke more.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half, as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester, but you like her better

Wish I were Heather

Bill and I sat on the couch just chatting about how life has been treating us since we last saw each other. It felt like nothing had changed really, though my heart knew things had. I knew he could probably tell something was wrong because I kept scooting further and further from him not wanting to over step my boundaries.

“You okay?” He finally asked after only just 15 minutes.

“I will be. I have to be right?”

“Look, I can tell you’re upset. So please tell me.”

“Why would you ever kiss me? I mean I’m not even half as pretty as her.”

“Woah, woah woah. Where did that come from?”

“Just curious is all. It’s okay if you never loved me. Really.”

“Of course I loved you, but that was a long time ago.”

“Not that long,” I mumbled.

In all reality it was only three years ago. Not like its was when were in school. He still looked so handsome. He hadn’t changed a single bit. Except the look in his eyes changed. He always used to look at me with such love and adoration. wanting to do anything to please me. Now his attention was on her. He looked at her with that look, but it seemed different. More...genuine.

“Just because the way you look at her...is different than how you looked at me...”

“Is that it?”

I just nod holding back tears, and trying to stop from blurting out that i still loved him, but he would never say it back. He would probably tell me to leave. That he didn’t need me ruining his special day, and that wasn’t my goal. Still, it hurt seeing him get his happy ending when I always saw him as mine.

“Are you sure?”

“I just miss you. That’s all. I’ve been too focused on my work to even try dating again. I figured what’s the point. I guess you could say I’m married to my work now.” It wasn’t a lie. I missed his arms around me, and snuggling with his sweater at night. I know its just wool, but it was comforting for me. I haven’t slept the same since. Still getting nightmares every once in a while wanting someone to hold me.

“Well that’s good that you’re so focused on work.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I gave a small smile pushing back the tears. Just trying convince myself more than him.

He smiled back at me, and I knew he really hadn’t changed. My head tried to find every reason to hate him, but my heart still loved him, and I knew in this battle, my heart would win this battle. I wish I was her. I wish I had what she had, for she had the one man that still held my heart.

Watch as she stands with

Her holding your hand

Put your arm 'round her shoulder

Now I'm getting colder

 The day of the wedding came. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, and Fleur looked so beautiful in her wedding dress. This was the day I would loose him forever, and I knew that I should tell him how I feel, but I didn’t want to ruin his future because I couldn’t stop loving him.

“You should tell him what you just told me. It’ll maybe help both of you. he hasn’t stopped thinking about you, or talking about you since he found out you were coming. He thinks marrying her is a mistake.” Percy confessed to you.

“I don’t want him to give up this beautiful woman. I want him happy and he wasn’t with me. At least that’s what I always thought.”

“He does still love you and he wants to know you’re okay with this.”

“I am, but at the same time I have this aching feeling that if I don’t he may never know how much I still love him. At the same time though, I don’t want to take away the future he has with her.”

“And you won’t, but you never know till you talk to him.”

Percy was right. I needed to tell him. It was something I needed...no had to do. I knew that the whole time, but I still feared the consequences of what could happen.

I walk to Bill’s room and knock.

“Who is it?” He said sounding kind of nervous.

“It’s me Y/N.”

He opened the door quickly and pulled you and shuts the door before pulling you into a big hug.

“Am I making the wrong decision?”

“Bill that’s...kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“Bill...I still love you. So so much.”

“I-I love you too.”

“But.”

“But what?”

“You should marry Fleur. What we had is over. It’s been over for three years now and I should have known that we were never meant to be.”

“If you really think that its the right decision for me...then I’ll marry her, but I meant it when I said that I still love you too.”

I smile a genuine smile, “I know you did, and I did too. Now go get that girl.”

The wedding was beautiful and they looked so happy. It felt bittersweet. Though, there was still a nagging feeling I made the wrong choice. I still felt empty inside and I knew it was too late to change things now. 

But how could I hate her?

She's such an angel

But then again, kinda

Wish she were dead, as she 

Walks by

What a sight for

Sore eyes

Brighter than a

Blue sky

She's got you

Mesmerized

While I die

I walked up to Fleur to get to know her a bit better, and the more we talked, the less I hated her. She was just so perfect for him, and I wish that I could have provided that for him.

I wish that they had never met, yet there wasn’t anyone more perfect for him than she was. As they took their first dance I couldn’t help but feel sad that it wasn’t me, but the way he looked at her it was something only heard in fairy tales.

I didn’t really do anything just sat around and watched as the rest of the crowd enjoyed themselves. It was hard to have fun when the one you love is in another’s arms.

Bill looked amazing and he seemed so happy with her. I could never destroy that. They were bound for life now, and I couldn’t take that away. I couldn’t have him. Not anymore.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half, as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester, but you like her better

I wish I were Heather

Wish I were Heather

Wish I were Heather

After the wedding I was helping clean up. I was so focused on cleaning and keeping my mind off of the man I loved, I didn’t realize that someone was watching me until they cleared their throat making me jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Said Percy walking over to help you.

“It’s alright really. I was trying to get my mind off of your brother.”

“I know, but hey you’ll find someone. I know you will.”

“How if I’m practically married to my work...”

“You will. I know it.” He gave a sweet smile as he helped we finish cleaning up.

We talked as we cleaned just catching up what we had missed the last few years. He made everything actually seem to just disappear. Percy told me about his job at the Ministry. He seemed to really enjoy it. Which made me smile, but still he never made me feel how Bill did. Sometimes I wonder if Fleur knows how special she truly is.

“I know you still have feelings for him, but at least you were brave enough to let him go.”

“I regret it. I really do, but one of should be happy at least, or, well get a happy ending.”

“Why shouldn’t both of you get a happy ending?”

“Because I can’t have one.”

“And why not?”

“i don’t know. I figured that Bill was the one. And I guess I was wrong about that.”

All of a sudden a pair of lips were on mine. I didn’t know what to do, but I kissed them back. Something in me clicked that night standing there kissing Percy. It was like I had been reborn again. I felt a new feeling in my heart. One I hadn’t felt in years.

Percy walked me back to the house and walked me upstairs to my room. Just as I was saying goodnight to Percy Bill walked out of his room.

“Oh, hello you two.”

“Hello Bill.” I said smiling and looking down as Percy’s hand lingered on my lower back.

“I see you two have um...gotten comfy around each other.”

“I guess you could say that.” I smiled more leaning on Percy.

“Well goodnight you two.” Bill said walking right back into his room

It made me think that maybe he came out to talk to me, but then again why would he. He had the woman he loved in the room with him, but it was weird that he came out saw us and walked back in. I didn’t think much of it though after that.

Percy kissed me one last time before we went to our separate rooms for the night. I went to bed smiling for the first time in three years. I had never been so happy, yet I was waiting to wake up and this all be just a dream.

When I woke the next morning though it wasn’t. Bill was downstairs making some tea and setting out cups. Fleur came down shortly after I did and just hung on her new husbands arm. It was sickening yet cute. It felt weird though seeing someone else act the way you did with him.

I sat down at the kitchen table while Mrs. Weasley made everyone breakfast. I sat playing with the brim of my mug as everyone spilled in. All except one person. Maybe he felt the same way towards me as Bill did. That he and I were too much alike and had nothing else to share.

“Oh Y/N dear, Percy asked me to tell you good morning and that he’ll be back this afternoon to have lunch with you, but work asked him to come in today for a few hours.” Mrs. Weasley said as she finished breakfast.

“Thank you Mrs. Weasley. I hope everything is okay.”

She smiled handing out a plate of food for everyone. Out of the corner of my eye though I saw Bill’s head fall some. Almost as if he were disappointed that what he saw last night was real. Maybe he wished the opposite. Maybe he wished that it was all some lucid dream and that he and I were still curled up in bed together like old times, but we weren’t and this was no dream.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester, but you like her better

Wish I were

That afternoon as I was in the middle of reading an article from the Daily Prophet in the living room I saw a bouquet of flowers be placed in front of me.I looked up to see who the flowers came from.

“Oh why thank you, but shouldn’t you be giving these to your wife?”

“I’m sorry about everything all those years ago. I let a good thing go. Seeing you with Percy last night made me see how much I truly do love you, and I feel like I made a horrible mistake.”

“Bill you didn’t. Percy actually makes me happy. I see that Fleur makes you happy too. So please. I’m finally able to move on. Be happy. Let’s not try and wish we were someone we aren’t. We can’t keep dwelling in the past. We drifted apart and we found who we truly belong with. Fleur is an amazing, caring, kind young lady who will love you unconditionally until the day you die, and I feel Percy can provide that for me too.” I hand Bill back the flowers, “now give these to your lovely and caring wife. She’ll love them I can guarantee it.”

Bill smiles at me and kisses my head, “what would I have ever done without you?”

“I don’t know.” I look over bill’s shoulder to see Percy walk in, and I stand up.

“Well if you’ll excuse me, I have someone special to greet.”

I go up and wrap my arms around Percy and kiss him sweetly. He returns it quickly pulling me close. I smile as I pull away resting my head on his shoulder now. I knew that I may sometimes wish I was Fleur, but I’m glad i have someone like Percy to turn to when I need him most.

[pepethehobbit]

This is Real

So, this idea or a version of it at least, has been stuck in my head since I wrote the fake/pretend dating christmas story and I simply had to write it to get it out of there. I hope you enjoy! (On Ao3 as well.)

A little warning: Jens gets pretty drunk here but he is safe at all times and nothing happens while he is drunk.

Jens doesn’t know what to do with it. He isn’t capable of handling this right now. Normally he is pretty good at it, had at least a year of practice. A year in which Robbe had encouraged him to just tell Lucas. But how could he when they’ve been friends for at least three years and Lucas had been in a relationship for the most part of them. The last fact had made it easier for Jens to keep his revelation to himself. But now Lucas had broken up with his long time boyfriend for reasons still unknown to Jens, because Lucas is ignoring him. And Jens hates it.

Because even though he didn’t get the attention from Lucas he really craved, not getting his attention at all is even worse. And not something that he had to deal with since they met at university orientation week three years ago. The immediate pull that Jens felt with Lucas formed into the most uncomplicated, easiest and comfortable friendship Jens has ever had, except for Robbe maybe. And since then Jens never had to know what it would be like to be ignored by Lucas or what it would be like for their eyes to meet and Lucas looking away immediately before Jens could even try to read the emotions in them.

So yeah, he doesn’t know what to do with it. That’s why he is currently working on getting as drunk as he has never been. Because he can’t deal with meeting Lucas eyes across the room one more time just for him to treat Jens as if he was a total stranger. The party Robbe dragged him to, promising that Lucas wouldn’t be there (so much for that), is in full motion. Everybody has been there for enough time to just let loose and dance around and play drinking games. Even though it is pretty crowded, Jens is somehow always able to find Lucas in a matter of seconds. And every time Lucas meets his eyes but his gaze is going right through Jens as if he wasn’t even there Jens takes a sip of whatever alcoholic beverage is currently in his hand. It’s like his own personal and pathetic drinking game.

Two weeks ago Robbe and Sander had come up to Jens wanting the gossip about the breakup of Lucas and his boyfriend. Two weeks since Jens had to explain to a disbelieving Robbe that he didn’t know anything about them breaking up. Two weeks since Jens shoot Lucas a message asking him if it is true and that he is there for him should he want to talk or to just get pissed. Two weeks since Jens heart beat a little bit faster in hopes of maybe finally having a chance, ignoring the sting of disappointment from having to hear about the break up from Robbe. Two weeks of radio silence from Lucas.

And now he is here, in a corner of the living room across from Jens with Kes and Jayden, apparently on a visit from Utrecht. He is here laughing and dancing with them as if he is having the time of his life, looking like the blue-eyed, freckled, gorgeous angel that he is. His dirty blond curls falling perfectly into his face, like they always seem to do, the loose blouse exposing bit of his collarbone and Jens takes another sip of his vodka something.

Robbe abandoned him a while ago in favor of making out with Sander and Aaron and Moyo are currently in the dancing masses with Noor and Amber. There is no one who can stop him from going into the kitchen to get another drink or maybe even the whole bottle. Jens has a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he really shouldn’t. But then he can’t help himself and chances another glance at Lucas. This time Lucas actually holds his gaze and Jens can read the worried expression even across the distance.

He turns around and goes to the kitchen ready for another drink. Lucas has no business being worried about him. He hasn’t been interested in how Jens feels for over two weeks, why does he care now. Jens opens the fridge to get another beer, turns around and collides with a body, resulting in the beer smashed on the floor. He ignores the person he ran into and leans down to clean up his mess. Black spots appear before his eyes as he does and his head sways precariously close to the edge of the counter when a firm hand on his chest steadies him upright again.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, Jens.”

Jens is shocked to hear his voice so close to him and finally opens his eyes again. He is met with concerned looking blue eyes, which in contrast to this whole night are currently boring into him right now with a worried expression. His shock quickly dissipates and is replaced with anger.

“Oh so now you suddenly care, good to know.”

For a little moment Jens thinks he sees hurt flash across Lucas face but he is very drunk so he could definitely be wrong. The expression changes into a determined one in a matter of seconds.

“Lets get you home, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Go back to Kes and Jayden, obviously they’re your real friends. You don’t need me anymore. I get it. It’s fine. You can leave me alone.”

“Jens. Stop being a complete moron and let me take you home.” Lucas has always been stubborn, Jens should’ve known that he won’t be so easily shaken off. But he can be pretty stubborn as well. Jens shakes Lucas’ hand off his chest and moves to step around him to leave by himself when he stumbles apparently over nothing and Lucas catches him again, a steady hand on his chest the other clutching at his arm.

“Jens. Let me take you home.” His voice has become softer, less angry. A voice that always left Jens pretty defenseless against Lucas. He feels his resolve crumble and a wave of tiredness overcomes him. Being mad at Lucas is so exhausting and he is drunk enough to forget the reason for why he was even mad at him in the first place, at least for tonight.

A simple “Okay” and then Jens gives control over to Lucas. He sinks more into him as he helps him through the hall and through the front door. An Uber appears seemingly out of nowhere, Jens hasn’t noticed Lucas order one. They get in and instead of sitting on either side of the car, Lucas pulls Jens right next to him, grabbing his hand in both of his and squeezing gently, rubbing soothing circles over Jens’ palm.

“What are you doing?”, Jens mumbles. He feels sleep creeping closer and closer and is suddenly very glad that he is on his way home.

“Shhh. I need this right now.” Lucas’ voice is doing something that Jens can’t quite place and is too tired to figure out. He doesn’t question the hand holding either, way to content right now with how close Lucas is to him.

He must’ve fallen asleep because next thing he knows, Lucas is coaxing him out of the car and up the stairs to his apartment. “Keys?”

Jens takes a while to register what he means and then scrambles the pockets of his jacket for the keys. He hands them over to Lucas, who still hasn’t let go of his hand. Jens thinks he can walk pretty well on his own but with the way Lucas is clutching at him, maybe not so much. The elevator ride up is thankfully very short because even when he isn't drunk Jens gets a little nauseous when going up. Lucas seems to know because he asks: “Hey, you alright? Are you getting sick?”

Jens swallows down what for a short moment went up his esophagus and shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

Lucas is still at his side when he opens the door to his apartment, taking off his jacket and ushering Jens into the kitchen. He sets Jens down on one of the kitchen chairs. It’s the first time since leaving the party that he lets go of Jens. Jens is acutely aware of the fact because he suddenly feels very cold in the spots where Lucas just had his hands. Lucas goes to the cupboard where the glasses are and fills one up to the brink with water and with an unceremoniously “Drink” sets it down in front of Jens.  

Jens is too tired to argue and his throat feels very dry anyway. He drinks the whole glass in one go and Lucas goes to fill it up again. He drinks half of that as well and he feels so much better already. That changes quickly though as he suddenly stands up and runs to the bathroom. He hears Lucas call a worried “Jens” after reaching the toilet in time.

While he empties his stomach of the all the poison he drank tonight he feels a soothing hand go up and down his back, comforting him. After a while, when there is nothing left for his body to get rid off he leans away from the toilet and up against his bathtub. Lucas wordlessly hands him another glass full of water but Jens can still see his worried expression.

“You should take a shower. Brush your teeth. You will better in the morning if you do that now.” Lucas is probably right about that but Jens has the sudden fear that Lucas will leave as soon as he leaves the bathroom.

“Will you stay? Tonight? Please?” Lucas seems a bit surprised and torn at Jens’ question. Jens can literally see the battle of thoughts behind Lucas’s eyes, even though he doesn’t know what the two opposing sides are saying.

“Please. I miss you.” As soon as he says that, something inside Lucas seems to be decided. He nods and with the same voice that Jens can’t place even though he is not that drunk anymore he says:“Okay. I will stay with you.”

Lucas brings him sweats and an old shirt to change into after the shower and goes back to Jens’ room to get a change of clothes for himself. While Jens takes the shower he can feel himself get a little bit more sober and with that the determination to finally talk to Lucas comes back as well. He wants to ask him why he has ignored him for two weeks and why he didn’t tell him that he broke up with his boyfriend, why he had to find that out through Robbe. A little bit of the anger returns as well but his drunken decision to not be mad at Lucas anymore is not one he wants to unmake. He just wants everything to go back the way it was, he wants his best friend back, his person, even though Lucas doesn’t feel that way about him.

He changes into his sleepwear, brushes his teeth and walks into his room to find Lucas already in his bed with his blankets covering everything but his head full of perfect curls and blue eyes that meet his gaze as soon as he enters the room. Without a word Jens crawls under the blankets as well and turns to Lucas so they lie face to face. Jens seems to have miscalculated the distance between them because now he is very close but neither of them make an effort to move back. It gives the Jens the courage to ask Lucas what he wanted to ask him for two weeks now.

“Lucas? Why didn’t you tell me that you broke up with Nils?”

At that Lucas breaks their eye contact and begins to fiddle with his hands that lie between them. Jens grabs them in his own and squeezes them gently.

Lucas takes a deep breath and looks at him again with an expression so unguarded and honest it leaves Jens holding his breath. “Jens, I will always need you,” he says instead of answering.

“What? What are you talking about?” Jens asks slightly taken aback from the lack of answer and change of topic.

“You said that I don’t need you anymore, because Kes and Jayden are my real friends. That’s not true. Of course they are my friends as well, but I will always need you anyway.”

“Then why have you been ignoring me for two weeks? You never replied to my messages and ignored all my calls.”

“I’m sorry, Jens”, Lucas mumbles quietly but doesn’t continue.

“Do you know how much it hurt sitting there with Robbe and having to explain to him that I have no idea what he is talking about and that I didn’t even know that you two obviously had some problems?”

“I’m sorry”, Lucas repeats again and Jens waits for a few moments for him to continue but when he meets his eye and he looks down again with a guilty expression Jens can’t anymore.

“Lucas, stop apologizing and actually explain. Do you know how shitty it is to be ignored and forgotten by the person you’re in love with?” He freezes at the exact same moment as Lucas’ eyes snap back up to his, shock clearly written all over them. He didn’t mean to say that, it just left his mouth out of his frustration and maybe the rest of the alcohol making him braver.

“I mean- fuck, not in love with but…, I mean… shit. I hadn’t meant to say that.” Lucas still just looks at him in shock but there seems to be a little disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  

“Do you mean it or are you just drunk?”

Jens is definitely still a little bit drunk, but not drunk enough so he doesn’t know what he is saying anymore. It already left his mouth and while the perfect opportunity for taking it back and pretending he didn’t mean it is presenting itself, he finds he doesn’t want to anymore. Pretending not to be in love with Lucas was hard enough when he still had a boyfriend but now it would be even harder to think about him as available but still off limits because they are best friends first and foremost. If Jens admits his feelings now, say he needs some time to get over them, maybe they can go back to what they were.

“I am still a little drunk but I definitely mean it. I have been in love with you for over a year. Maybe even from the very beginning but I only realized that one night when you had a fight with Nils and came to me about it. I don’t know anymore what the fight was about but all I kept thinking was that you deserve so much better than the way he treated you and I realized that I wanted to be the one to treat you the way you deserve to.”

Lucas eyes widen in awe and hope during his declaration and the grip on his hand tightens, as if he needs to feel that Jens is really real.

“I broke up with Nils because I realized that I was falling in love with somebody else,” he says suddenly.

Jens feels like somebody just punched him in the guts. His face falls, he diverts his eyes and moves a few centimeters away from Lucas, letting go of his hand. “Oh. That’s great though. I mean give me some time and I’m sure I can be genuinely happy for you. It’s just-”

Lucas grips his hand again and shuffles closer again, even closer than before. He brushes his nose against Jens’ while wearing the fondest and most exasperated smile. “Jens, you absolute moron. It’s you. I was talking about you. I’m in love with you too.”

“What?”

“I’m in love with you.” Lucas repeats with a huge smile on his face that Jens can’t help but mirror. He stares into those beautiful blue eyes a little bit longer searching for any kind of lie but he can’t find it. What he finds is relief and happiness and love, all directed at him and Jens can’t help but ask: “Am I dreaming?”

Lucas laughs loud and clear, happiness flowing out of him and shakes his head fondly. “I certainly don’t hope so. I want this to be real.”

“I want to kiss you”, Jens blurts out before he can stop himself and if possible Lucas’ smile becomes even more blinding. “You can kiss me in the morning when you're sober. I don’t want to have our first kiss when you are not convinced that this isn’t real.”  

Jens pouts at that but accepts it. He turns around then and presses his back to Lucas’ chest, who immediately gets with the program and puts his arm around Jens, grabs his hand and settles them in front of his chest. “Let’s sleep then, so I can kiss you soon.” He feels how Lucas smiles against his neck and squeezes him even tighter against him. The last thing he remembers before he falls asleep is Lucas pressing a kiss to neck and mumbling: “This is real.”

Waking up has never been so uncomfortable and pleasant at the same time. He feels his hangover headache but he also feels the warmth of Lucas’ back pressed against his front and their tangled legs. They must have moved during the night and despite everything he drank last night, Jens remembers their conversation word for word. This is not a conversation he could forget. He presses his smile against Lucas’ neck and inhales the scent of him. Lucas stirs under his movements and slowly turns around to look up at Jens. His expression is guarded as if not sure that Jens remembers everything or just any of what was said last night and Jens can’t have that.

He gently grabs Lucas’s chin and pulls him even closer to him. Their noses brush and he hears how Lucas sucks in a shaky breath.

“This is real,” Jens says before he finally closes the distance between them and connects their lips in a gentle and loving kiss. Jens pulls back way too soon but he needs to check if Lucas believes him. With the way Lucas grabs him by the neck and surges forward to press their lips together again but this time much more passionately Jens is pretty sure that he does. It shouldn’t be this good. They both have morning breath, the angle is a little bit awkward but it’s the best kiss Jens has ever had. Lucas parts his lips against his and Jens can’t do anything against the little moan that escapes his mouth. He is met with a happy sounding giggle and he feels how Lucas smiles against his lips. His own smile takes over, he steals another short kiss from Lucas and then leans back to look at him.

Lucas’s lips are red and a bit swollen and he can’t help but trace them with his fingers, grinning when Lucas goes pliant against them, looking at Jens’ lips longingly.

“This is real.” Jens repeats for good measure and smiles even brighter when Lucas rolls his eyes fondly and says as if it is the simplest and truest thing in the world “Of course it is” before pulling him in for another kiss.

[azozzoni]

lucas vdh x jens bc it's one of my seven (7) new crack ships 😆❤

I swear I will not get sucked into another crack ship. I will already never recover from elippo and lukes got me too now. This is one time, for you, anon.

*

“Okay, but he’s cute,” Ralph said, shoving his phone under Lucas’ nose, across the tiny cafe table.

Lucas shook his head at the guy on the Grindr profile. He’d tried Grindr. It hadn’t really worked out for him, although it had successfully outed him to Ralph, who at least had the good sense to help him keep the secret. Lucas just wasn’t sure how ready he was to let the whole world know–or specifically Kes and Jayden.

Keeping the secret apparently meant helping Lucas find someone to hook up with, though Lucas was pretty sure none of the guys on Grindr were his style.

“I’m not going to meet up with a guy who has a picture of his dick online,” he said, giving the phone back to Ralph, who rolled his eyes. He stopped, though, squinting at something behind Lucas.

“Don’t look now,” Ralph said, a bright expression taking over his face, “but there’s a cute guy checking you out across the cafe. No dick pics in sight.”

The cafe was full enough that Lucas wasn’t entirely sure who it was as he tried to glance over his shoulder without being obvious. He caught deep brown eyes darting away, back to the two guys he was sitting with.

“It’s perfect,” Ralph said when Lucas turned back. “A cafe meet-cute.”

“I don’t–” Lucas said, hesitating, feeling suddenly nervous. For all the guys he’d talked to on Grindr, he’d never met up with any of them, had never quite worked up the courage to talk to them in real life.

Ralph reached for his arm, reassuring. “You can do this. It’s just talking to a cute guy. That’s all.”

That was all, Lucas thought sarcastically. It sounded so simple when Ralph said it. But Ralph wasn’t afraid to go up to anyone, to tell them they were cute and ask if they wanted to get a drink.

“Is he still looking?” Lucas asked after a second and Ralph grinned as he nodded. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Taking his hand back, Ralph seemed to laugh, as though Lucas was so hopeless. And maybe he was. Maybe there was no way Lucas should be trying to talk to guys. Why did everything have to be so hard?

“It’s easy. You wait until he’s watching, then you get up and go to the counter. Pretend you’re thinking what to get. If he’s interested, he’ll come to you.”

It sounded simple, too simple, but who was Lucas to question Ralph’s logic? Ralph had been doing this a lot longer than he had.

“Go now,” Ralph whispered a second later, furtive, and Lucas was out of his chair before he could even rethink this stupid plan or why he was going along with it.

At the counter, Lucas stood back, staring hard at the menu scrawled along the back wall. He knew everything on it, had come here a million times. Shoving his hands in his coat pockets, he didn’t dare look back at the table with the three guys.

Ralph’s plan was ridiculous, he found himself thinking as he stood there, frowning at the list of coffees. What was he even doing? He wasn’t supposed to do things like this.

“Any recommendations?” 

A voice in his ear made Lucas jump, and it took a second for his brain to process the words, a different accent than he was used to. Flemish, his brain came up with. Belgian.

Up close, the guy had razor sharp cheekbones, soft, wavy hair, and he stood a few inches taller than Lucas.

“Everything’s good here,” he said finally, stopping his eyes from traveling down the guy’s chest. Ralph hadn’t told him what to do once the guy had come over. Flirt! his brain said as Lucas chewed on his bottom lip, fingers closing over the joint he kept in his pocket, turning it over nervously.

“I bet it is,” the guy said, and Lucas had to glance over, had to smile at the way the guy was watching him, as if waiting for him to react to that.

“You’re not from here,” Lucas said finally, and the guy shrugged.

“My friends wanted to go somewhere for the weekend and we’re pretty broke, so Utrecht it is.”

Lucas glanced over his shoulder, but the two guys still at the table didn’t seem to be paying them any attention, fingers entwined and grinning into kisses between murmured words.

“Yeah, they’re sickening,” the guy said when Lucas looked back to him, but he was smiling, amused.

“Then why’d you tag along?” Lucas asked. He knew exactly what being the third wheel was like and how much it sucked.

The guy sighed. “On a quest for good weed?” He met Lucas’ eyes, something suggestive there. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get some?”

Lucas’ fingers closed around the joint in his pocket. He could practically hear Ralph yelling in his head–“It’s a line, Luc! Say yes and invite him somewhere quiet!”

Taking a breath, Lucas reminded himself that he could do this. Just talking to a cute guy, feeling the weird butterflies when the guy smiled at him.

“I might be willing to share,” he said at length, pulling the joint out of his pocket. “If you’re interested.”

The guy’s smile widened and he nodded. “Now?”

“What about your friends?” Lucas asked, though he didn’t care about them. The guy checked over his shoulder at the boys wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft kisses that made Lucas’ heart ache just a little and he had to look away.

“I don’t think they’ll miss me,” the guy said after a second. “I’m Jens, by the way.”

“Lucas,” he said, nervous as he turned toward the front door, and he ignored the way Ralph shot him an excited look as they passed by.

The park was only a few blocks down, under pools of yellow street lamps, the gate long-broken as Lucas slipped inside and Jens followed.

Perching on the back of an old bench, Lucas lit the joint, passing it over to Jens.

“So who was your friend?” Jens asked when Lucas wished he was better at this. “The bleached blond?”

“That’s just Ralph,” Lucas replied, dragging his finger through a string of dew on the bench. “He’s my friend’s roommate.”

He’s the only one who knows, he wanted to say, but didn’t.

Jens smiled to himself, as though it was some inside joke. “It seems bleach-blond is the thing these days.”

“I don’t think it’d work on me,” Lucas admitted, taking a long drag, smoke settling in his lungs and he exhaled slowly.

“I think you look good like this,” Jens said, and Lucas glanced over at him, the way Jens bit his lip as he grinned, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Lucas was the one who didn’t know what he was doing. It had always been easy with girls, with no real stakes, no real danger of feeling anything when they kissed, no underlying fear that it was going to mean something else.

Jens’ knee pressed to Lucas’ as they sat on the bench, not insistent, almost accidentally. It should have made Lucas nervous, and it did, but it also felt totally normal, as if he didn’t need to overthink it.

“I like the earring,” he said as Jens took back the joint, fingers brushing against his. “It’s very…”

“Sexy?” Jens asked with a winning smile that Lucas laughed at.

“Maybe,” he said, shaking his head. It wasn’t as hard as he’d thought, sitting here with Jens, no weird pressure to do anything other than talk. Maybe Ralph had been right. Just talking to a cute guy.

The joint was burning down in his fingers and Lucas took another drag, blowing the smoke into the chill night air. His cheeks were red from the cold, but he didn’t suggest going somewhere else, somewhere inside.

“You don’t have any,” Jens said, looking him over, and Lucas shook his head.

“My mom would freak out,” he said, “and I just never wanted to.”

The pressure from Jens’ knee increased as he shifted on the bench, taking what was left of the joint from Lucas. They were closer than before, Jens’ jacket brushing against his, and Lucas didn’t say anything for a moment as they sat there.

If Jens was a girl, Lucas probably would have kissed him by now, would not have cared at all that their knees were touching, that he could feel the warmth of Jens’ body against his, hear his sigh as he exhaled the smoke.

“How long are you in town?” he asked, watching Jens scan the dark park. He glanced at Lucas finally.

“We go back tomorrow,” he said, offering Lucas the last bit of the joint, but Lucas shook his head. Jens dropped it on the ground instead where it sizzled out on the dew-covered pavement. “Anything I should do before we go?”

This was his opening, Lucas thought as he glanced at Jens, and he smiled despite the way his stomach turned over nervously. He should just do it, fuck all the reasons why not. He probably wouldn’t see Jens again and what exactly did he have to lose?

“I can think of one thing,” he said, a lot more confidently than he felt as he leaned in, keeping an eye on Jens in case he moved away, but he didn’t, mouth curling in a smile a second before their lips met.

It was different than kissing girls, not the actual mechanics, but no other girl had made him feel quite like this, like this was how it was supposed to be. It wasn’t even anything spectacular, Jens opening his mouth slightly, soft, full lips against his, tasting of weed and coffee. Jens’ fingers were warm as they came up to Lucas’ neck, not like Lucas’ freezing cold digits that he kept stuffed in his pockets.

Lucas was pretty sure he could go on kissing Jens as long as they let him, exploring each other’s mouths in a slow, lazy kind of way that didn’t seem to be going anywhere else.

The ping of a phone pierced the quiet around them, and Lucas swallowed as Jens pulled back, digging his phone from his pocket.

“It’s the guys,” he said, reading a message on the screen. “They’re wondering where I am.” He looked back to Lucas, smiling slightly as he let his other hand fall from his neck. “I should probably get back and make sure they haven’t done anything stupid.”

Lucas nodded without a word, sliding off the bench. He didn’t need to think too hard about this, about his first real kiss with a guy. It wasn’t that big of a deal, he told himself, waiting for Jens to join him.

“You on Instagram?” Jens asked as they headed back toward the cafe, and Lucas looked up.

“Of course.”

“Maybe I’ll find you, if that’s okay.”

He couldn’t help smiling as they reached the door. Through the window, Lucas saw that Ralph was long gone, their table occupied by someone else.

“It’s okay.”

Jens nodded, reaching for the door. Lucas didn’t stop him from leaving, stepping into the warmth of the cafe and leaving him outside in the cold. For a moment, he just watched Jens approach his friends, who seemed to reprimand him for disappearing.

Turning from the cafe, Lucas let out a breath, heading down the street instead. He didn’t stop his smile, though, as he pulled out his phone and texted a thumbs up emoji to Ralph before tucking it away. Maybe it wasn’t so hard. Maybe he could do this.

It was that thought that kept him smiling all the way home, only stopping once to check a notification from Instagram. He had one new follower.

[wearevillaneve]

Killing Eve S3, E5: “Are You From Pinner?“ should  really  be called “Killing Oksana.”

With “Are You From Pinner?” in the books, we are past the halfway mark of the Suzanne Heathcote era of Killing Eve and in some circles of the fandom, the hope is this wet firecracker of a season will blow up in the final three episodes.

Based upon what’ has come before, this may be a tad optimistic.   As erratic and disjointed as the preceding four episodes, E5 introduced something entirely new and different to Killing Eve.  A standalone showcase for Jodie Comer’s Villanelle without Eve or Dasha or Konstantin or any of the other regular cast to block the spotlight. Can you see the fatal error in all this?

Typically when something is dubbed a “shitshow” it’s meant metaphorically, but as one of the set pieces was Villanelle literally throwing shit, it becomes an accurate description.

Before we got to this point, the six-month time jump from the end of last season looked like a combination of a tactical error and a missed opportunity.   Instead of Villanelle returning to Russia to drop in on the home folks, there were a many more unanswered questions from “You’re Mine” in dire need of an explanation.

1.  Who rescued Eve found and transported her to the hospital?  The “lucky some tourists found you” one-liner by the late Kenny Stowton seems pretty flimsy.   Didn’t the Rome police have any questions about this Asian woman with amazing hair ended up in Hadrian’s Villa lying facedown in a pool of blood?  Was it a robbery?  Okay, so then did Eve have any money, passport or ID to get back to England once she healed sufficiently?  Did she receive any rehabilitative aftercare?   Is she on any pain-killing medicines?  What was her mental state after being shot by V?  What was her emotional and psychological state after slaughtering Raymond to save V?

2.  How did Niko get out of the storage locker?  Eve didn’t know where he was and neither did MI6.  Even if he was found by someone else, how did he explain away the small matter of Gemma’s rotting corpse? Niko griped to Eve that MI6 intervened to make it look like Gemma committed suicide to cover up the fact that not only can’t a spy agency catch an international assassin who kills British citizens at will, they later hired her to work on an off-the-book mission where a technocratic billionaire got his throat slit.  

Why would MI6 go through all that fuss and bother to cover up a murder of a civilian when it could easily be laid at Niko’s feet? His only defense is Gemma was killed by a beautiful blonde psychopath with a crush on his estranged wife.  Carolyn told Eve she was on her own after Rome.   What changed, because something must have for MI6 to ride to Niko’s rescue. 3. Isn’t The Twelve presented as this immense, almighty, sprawling international diabolical entity of murder, violence, and sowing chaos and espionage against nations with their dirty little fingers apparently manipulating every intelligence agency on the planet?  It also deploys assassins and goons too fucking stupid to look under a bed to find an unarmed MI6 agent hiding there quaking in fear OR recognize said agent when a thug asks her out for a sushi dinner.   Well, okay then. Killing Eve logic explains it all.  Returning back to this sluggish solo flight, Villanelle’s family in Mother Russia are a bunch of dopey dunces with anger management issues, poor self-control, and flat-earthers who break out in spontaneous dance routines while the prodigal trouble child, Oksana, looking like the Whitest White Girl Ever who tried to shake her moneymaker, but couldn’t because both of her feet were super-glued to the floor, stands by bewildered probably thinking, “Who the hell are you people?”

A few weeks ago rumors from not-very reliable sources were floating around that executive producer Sally Woodward Gentle had mused it might be conceivable Killing Eve could conceivably go on without one of the two leads.  Perhaps Woodward Gentle is hedging her bets should Comer or Oh not return after the fourth season. “Are You From Pinner” is proof that’s not true.  The show is called Killing Eve, not Killing Villanelle.  Though she has become the sun to Eve’s moon, there’s a reason for Eve Polastri to inhabit a central place in Villanelle’s life.   She is the other half which makes Villanelle whole.  Whether together or apart, what keeps the audience coming back is the strange relationship between Eve and Villanelle. Without Eve to humanize Villanelle, she become just another attractive, charismatic killer with a sad back story.   Yet Villanelle is not a Marvel super villain and many fans were perfectly fine with not knowing what it was in her past that made her who she is now.

Heathcote subverted expectations of another meeting between the central characters in episode 5 as her showrunner predecessors Emerald Fennell and Phoebe Waller-Bridge had done previously, but she went further by removing Eve completely.  Eve was not referenced a single time by Villanelle and weirdly, Sandra Oh and all the other cast members names were removed from the credits.  Heathcote’s erred by that omission as it reinforced the notion some KE fans have held that she and Fennell tilted the balance in favor of Comer’s character as Oh’s is diminished.  That may not have been the newest showrunner’s intention, but it certainly feeds the impression that it was. The conclusion of Villanelle killing her mother and burning down the house was a wrenching, powerful moment, but taken in totality of the entire show, not nearly enough to compensate for the lackluster and pointless set-up scenes.

What we learned from Oksana's origin story is you really can't go home again.  Fine, but why did that require an Eve-less episode to know that.  This all could have unfolded in the six-month jump after Rome as a sub-plot playing out over the first four episodes.   It didn’t justify a standalone showcase for Villanelle. 

All it did was blunt the equally affecting impact of Eve witnessing Niko’s death.  A better and much fairer approach would have been devote the first half to Eve grieving for her murdered husband and the second to Villanelle less-than-warm welcome home. Minus Eve,  and without Konstantin and no Dasha to exercise some guidance over the nuclear missile that is Villanelle, what you get is an unleashed assassin alternatively being childish, being a smart-ass, being mysterious, being fashionable, before inevitably turning murderous.

Most of the time it works and we forgive Villanelle her many trespasses  This time it face-planted despite a sensational closing sequence between Oksana and her mother.  Unfortunately, ten riveting minutes do not make up for the uninteresting 32 minutes which preceded it. 

Villanelle has become unstoppable in her homicidal tendencies.   She has morphed into a female Terminator who occasionally imitates human traits.  Nothing can stop her or barely slow her down.  She commits mayhem and slaughter like most of us breathe and suffers zero consequence for it.  The fact she took out her own mother should neither shock nor surprise. 

“Are You From Pinner?” demonstrates Villanelle’s complex charms shine most brightly in her interactions with Eve, Konstantin and Dasha. Remove them from the equation and even Comer’s wealth of talents are not enough to rise above flat, lifeless characters, muddled motivations and a plot which wavers between the comedic for too long and the tragic too late to register.    A friend said she didn’t much like “Are You From Pinner” but hoped it would be better after a second or third viewing.  I told sometimes a first impression is a right impression and that it was doubtful a third watch would help much.  How much subtlety and nuance is there to be found from a turd tossing contest? I can say with all confidence, I can't see myself watching this episode again.   Like ever.  If you got something out of this misfire and it touched your heart and made you squirt a tear for Oksana, more power to you.   All I got out of it was confirmation why the show is called Killing Eve and not Villanelle and Her Wacky Russian Family.   Come for the comedy.  Stay for the kills.  In a new interview for her Elle Canada cover story, Oh spoke of how she had reached a point in her life where she was not looking for the next big blockbuster movie, but interested in roles where her Korean American identity can be explored.  “I decided that I’m only going to play characters that are essential to the plot, that conduct the narrative and therefore can’t be cut out.” Eve is an essential character who conducts the narrative, and was cut out of the latest installment of the program that bears her name.   And that bothers me.   It bothers me a lot more than just a mediocre Killing Eve story.  I will never watch another Killing Eve which erases one of the female leads to elevate the other.    That is not how women empower women. 

FINAL GRADE: C 

[takkforaltijd]

"I really had no idea what to expect from this evening" 2/2

Okay here's part two. A few things beforehand, did you know that Lucas is actually attending a Waldorf school in skamnl! Namely the St-Gregorius College in Utrecht! So I put this into the story. I also have no idea what the translation of "borrelnootje" is. It is a peanut with a kind of crispy layer around it. Here a picture haha. So I just called it crispy nuts.

Jens is home alone the weekend and has asked Lucas if he would like to come. Friday has arrived and the two have not talked about it. Jens sends a message if Lucas still wants to come over.

Also an evening with cards, drinks, good conversations and a first kiss. ———————————————————————

Jens zipped up his jacket and went to the front door. He felt in the pocket of his jacket for his bicycle key, but he was not in it.

"Fuck where's my key," Jens thought. He ran to his bedroom and looked at his desk. The key was not there. He looked quickly through his room, but he was nowhere to be seen.

He hurried to the kitchen, almost falling down the stairs on the way. Had he thrown it there when he got home? The key was not on the kitchen table, nor on the counter.

"You've got to be kidding me" the boy thought. He even checked the pantry to see if he had left it there, but the key was nowhere to be seen.

Jens's last hope was that he hadn't locked his bike at all. Then it was praying that he was still there.

"My god I'm such a idiot" Jens thought when he saw his bike with the key in the lock. How long had this taken? Almost five minutes?! Jens jumped on the bike towards the harbor. Why was he so extremely chaotic? He just couldn’t come on time.

...

When he arrived at the harbor, Lucas was already there.

"Sorry I lost my key. I really went all over the house to find it, but apparently my bike was not locked at all…” Jens said a bit breathless from cycling.

Lucas could only laugh. "I think this can really only happen to you"

Lucas might be right about that, Jens thought. "I am the absolute master of chaotic people," Jens said back with raised eyebrows and a cheeky smile.

The boys got on their bikes and headed for his house.

...

“We'll put the bike in the back, that's easier” the boys cycled through a narrow alley and not much later they were behind Jens's house.

"Well, here I live." The boys parked their bikes and walked in. Jens took off his shoes and hung his coat on the overfull coat rack. He saw Lucas look with a look that said, "there is no possibility that my jacket will go with this too without it collapsing." "Uh just hang it over something."

The boys went to the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?" Jens asked with his head already in the fridge. "Yes please" he answered. "Uh we have juice, coke ... I don't know what you like?"

Jens didn't get an answer, so he looked around and what he feared earlier today was reality. Lucas was looking extensively at the old pictures on the wall.

“Uh yes old pictures are hanging everywhere in the house. Nice and embarrassing.” Jens said with a flushed cheeks.

"No this is amazing!" Lucas said enthusiastically. "Isn't this you?" he pointed to an old school photo, about nine years old Jens was there. Jens nodded. "And this? Is that your sister?”

"Yes, that's Lotte, she's only eight, by the way, which also explains the drawings on the fridge," Jens said while he closed the fridge. "Is Coke good?" and Lucas nodded.

"You said eight years, this really isn’t bad," said Lucas with admiration. "I couldn't do this when I was eight!"

"Do you draw then?" Jens aked. “Yes, I have always attended a Waldorf school in the Netherlands. So, there was always a lot of room for creativity. My mother thought that was important for my development. That's why started painting and drawing I think.” Lucas said almost shyly.

"So not just the skater boy I've seen so far," Jens joked.

"No not just a skater boy"

The boys sat down at the kitchen table with their drinks. "And you? Are you also doing something creative or are you really just the skater boy I've seen so far?” Lucas asked with genuine interest and a slight grin on his face.

"I play the guitar, but I don't think I can get much further than that," Jens replied.

"I should hear that one time," said Lucas with a smile on his face. "Only if I get to see your drawings" Jens said back teasingly "at least if that's not too personal" he quickly added realizing how personal art could be. But Lucas agreed. "Next time, then," the blond boy said.

Next time, Jens thought. That sounds good.

The boys' small talk went on for a while until Jens asked if Lucas would like to have another drink.

"a beer?" Jens asked. And Lucas replied as if he had never heard anything better. Jens took two bottles of beer from the fridge and put them on the table. He also took a deck of cards.

"Can you play cards?" he asked. To which Lucas replied with a provocative tone "and if I can play cards" and the boys both laughed at it.

...

A few games of cards and two beers later Jens gave up “how is this possible, people never want to play cards with me because I always win, and you just finished me like it was nothing”

"Oh… has Lucas destroyed jens his little ego," said Lucas in a teasing voice and half a pout. Both boys couldn't stop laughing.

Lucas took some more crispy nuts and put them in his mouth. "Do you know what my party trick is?" he asked. Jens shook his head. "I can float crispy nuts in the air," he said through his laughter. Jens had no idea what to imagine. "I must see that!" Lucas tried to back out of it, but Jens was steadfast. He had to see this.

"Okay, but then I have to lie flat." And not much later, the boys had moved into the living room with the bag of crispy nuts.

Jens looked wide-eyed at Lucas. "Dude how?!" he said in surprise. "I have to be able to do this, it is brilliant." So not much later Jens himself was on the couch.

"Okay, you need a round nut that isn't too big." So Jens picked up a round crispy nut. "Then you put it on your lips" Jens followed the instructions of a slightly tipsy Lucas. "And then you have to blow gently." Jens tried but failed very hard. He tried a few more times but failed really hard.

"How do you do this, it is impossible," said Jens, almost irritated. "You should blow softer," said Lucas. Jens had to be able to do it "even softer, that really is impossible!". Both boys burst out laughing at Jens's frustration. “You know what, I give up. You already destroyed my ego while playing cards” and Jens sat up straight on the couch. Lucas dropped down next to him and said with a grin “sorry…” “ah stop it” Jens said back.

"should I put some music on?" Jens asked, already getting up. Lucas nodded. “What should I put on. I really have no idea what the Dutch are listening to.” Jens said teasingly. "you can decide I listen to almost everything thanks to my friends in the Netherlands." Lucas replied. "Everything?" Jens asked in a provocative tone. Lucas put his hands over his head "oh god what have I started."

Little boy You are in this world so you will have to fight just like me I can know Life is not easy There is adversity at any time (translated from dutch)

Jens looked at a Lucas who sang this song with one hand on his hard. "The Dutch really like their Hazes or not," said Jens, laughing. "Who doesn't love Hazes." Lucas supposedly said back offended. "You are a real Dutchman," Jens said, shaking his head. "But Hazes is okay…. I think," Jens admitted. "okay?" Lucas said, his hands on his hard. "It's always time for Hazes!" and Jens didn’t dare go against it.

"But what do you really listen to, as in everyday life." Jens asked. "Uh that differs a lot, but I think artists like The 1975 or Bon Iver are chill", said Lucas. "I don't know Bon Iver," Jens admitted.

Lucas got up and took the phone from Jens's hand. "I'm sure you know this number."

Come on skinny love just last the year Pour a little salt we were never here My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

"Isn't that Birdy her song?" Jens asked. Lucas looked at Jens and sarcastically said “ouch”. "No Birdy covered this. I think the original is better though.” And Jens joined Lucas's opinion.

Lucas returned the phone to Jens and plopped down on the sofa. Jens scrolled through the list Lucas had put on. "I'll keep this on," said Jens and sat down next to Lucas. Closer than he actually intended. The boys' shoulders touched.

If Lucas does not think this is chill then he will move to the side, Jens thought, but Lucas did not move.

A few songs passed and the conversation got back on track. "But why did you actually come to Antwerp?" Jens asked. Lucas took a deep breath which made boys touch each other even more. "Uh, it's quite complicated," said Lucas. Jens immediately felt guilty about the question. "You don't have to tell if you don't want to"

Lucas nodded, but opened his mouth searching for words. “No it's okay, I lived in Utrecht with my mother, but she is uh… bipolar. I don't know if you know what that is” Jens looked at Lucas and nodded “Yes I do. Sander, Robbe's boyfriend is bipolar ”Lucas nodded and looked for words to go on. “The three of us have decided that it is better for me not to live with her for a while, so now I am here with my father in Antwerp”

"Do you think you're going back to the Netherlands?" Jens secretly hoped not.

"Not any time soon. At least I want to finish my school here.” Lucas took a deep breath “it's just difficult, because my whole life is in the Netherlands. My friends, basically just everything.”

Jens understood Lucas exactly. The boy he has only known since this school year has just opened up here. Maybe it was good for him too.

"I think I understand you," Jens said cautiously. “When my father lost his job, we had to choose between living smaller here in Antwerp or leaving the city… I don't know how I would have managed leaving the city. Without Robbe. ”

"I really miss Kes and Isa very much" said Lucas "never thought I would even miss Jayden as much as I do" and the Boy laughed. "But I immediately felt accepted here." A smile appeared on Jens's face. "You, the boys and the girls were there for me from day one."

Silence fell between the boys. Not an awkward silence, it was a silence that said more than all the words spoken that night.

Jens knew that the feelings for Lucas were more than friendly. He had never felt this fot a boy before. He had never ruled it out, but it was still scary.

Jens felt Lucas's gaze on him, and his whole body heated. Kissing the boy, that's what he wanted all night. But Jens was afraid it would ruin their friendship.

Jens turned his head to Lucas's. Lucas's eyes fixed on his lips.

Without thinking, Jens closed the space between him and Lucas. His lips found Lucas's and Lucas kissed him back.

It was a small cautious kiss, and Jens pulled back gently.

"Uh ... sorry"

"You don't have to apologize," said Lucas with a smile. "If I hadn't wanted it, I wouldn't have kissed you back."

Jens's body simply stopped functioning, so all he could do was nod yes. He opened his mouth searching for words "it's just uh ... I’ve never done that before." He didn't even dare to look at Lucas.

"You are not my first boy." Lucas replied. That made Jens look up "as in ..." Jens started

Lucas finished "Gay".

A short pause followed, until Jens asked, "How did you know you're gay?"

"I am simply not attracted to girls, it just doesn’t work for me" Lucas replied.

"I never knew I could be attracted to boys," Jens said.

“That's okay, right? And that you kissed me doesn't make you gay” Lucas said “you don't have to put a label on yourself just because you kissed a boy.”

"No, I know, but at least I'm not straight." Jens Huffed. And both boys laughed.

"There is much more than gay and straight you know, you just have to discover it." Lucas said. And he was right.

...

"My god it's already half past two," said Lucas. "If I want to keep my father on my side, I really have to go home soon."

"I will cycle with you, because I don't think you really paid attention to how to get back to the harbor." Jens laughed. And Lucas admitted he had no idea how to go back home.

The boys put on their coats and shoes and walked over to the bikes.

"Do you have your key this time?" Lucas joked. And Jens nudged him.

...

Fifteen minutes later they stood in front of a modern apartment complex.

“Thanks for riding along!” Lucas said “next time at my place?”

That sounds good, Jens thought and agreed with the plan.

The boys hugged each other, and Lucas walked towards the door of the complex. Before he went in, he said "I really liked it tonight, would you send a message when you get home?"

Jens would do that. He took his earphones out of his pocket and put on Lucas's playlist.

Evergreens in a dream of an island town Draw a line in the sand and we'll smooth it down Will your side win, get to the middle Count them off one at a time And we'll try, to guess right