#literally sensing the momentum of things

[nie7027]

Once again i did notes (for my fics) instead of working on the very important work i have to do but this time its ok because i meant to take off today and rest anyway.

and besides i did something i had always wanted to do since fricken 2019!

I DID A POWER SCALE FOR THE MP100 ESPERS!!!

As you can see im still missing the 7th division claw members and the awakening lab kids (and others) buts its ok because i did the most important ones!

(also those missing are all around the same level anyway)

As i watched mp100 I ve always classified the espers in 5 categories(excluding mobs own) depending of their abilities in my mind which i put on the side and also they way i understand their powers (aka telepaths/seers/spiritists behaving differently)

(or at least the way i see all of this)

i included notes explainning why i put them the way i did (good luck understanding them) and even how their powers grew during the story!

even thought ive had this cale in my mind for years i never realized how much ritsu grows in it! (even though i did him so dirty lmao)

i made this mostly as a handy reference for myself but if you want to use it feel free to do it (ñ

or to askme if you are curious about anything!

... Except why Teru and Shou got extra lines... I don't even know it myself I just know they make sense

(I think besides their first appearance im also marking their status as of the world dominatiom arc and at the end of the story (dotted lines are the leaves they reach when pushed to their limits... Not recommended))

dunno when ill get to finish this but when i do it ill update it here or maybe in another post and link it... who knows

Edit: although I named the zone "can copy others special techniques" it doesn't necessarily has to be copied.

That zone actually is "can use more than 1 specialized technique".

I put "copy" because I believe each techquine is innate to some psychic somewhere and while yeah you could come up with a technique on your own different than the one you already have I think it's easier to do it once you see someone else doing it. Aka easier to copy techniques than to create them yourselves.

Copying techniques isn't that easy either (remember the scale is exponential) which is why Teru being able to do it on the spot is so remarkable and says a lot about his level of power.

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[opencommunion]

this call was released anonymously (understandably) but my local Palestinian organizers who I literally trust with my life have endorsed it, and it seems to be gaining momentum in multiple cities, so I encourage you all to get involved:

"A proposal to coordinate a multi-city economic blockade on April 15th in solidarity with Palestine recently received overwhelming commitments to participate around the US and internationally.

The proposal states that in each city, we will identify and blockade major choke points in the economy, focusing on points of production and circulation with the aim of causing the most economic impact, as did the port shutdowns in recent months in Oakland, California and Melbourne, Australia, as just a few examples.

There is a sense in the streets in this recent and unprecedented movement for Palestine that escalation has become necessary: there is a need to shift from symbolic actions to those that cause pain to the economy.

As Yemen is bombed to secure global trade, and billions of dollars are sent to the Zionist war machine, we must recognize that the global economy is complicit in genocide and together we will coordinate to disrupt and blockade economic logistical hubs and the flow of capital."

ETA: since I posted, organizers in St. Louis, Seoul, Brussels, and the Netherlands have signed onto the agreement, so if you saw this before and your city wasn't listed look again. anyone with the capacity to do some outreach, and a few connections to start with, could take the initiative to bring their city or region on board. read the solidarity agreement and check out the resources, and if you know trustworthy people in your area who might be interested in this sort of thing, talk to them about it.

remember that this isn't a series of protests (although some cities are organizing protests in conjunction), it's a commitment to take mass direct action and to maintain a united front in the face of any state repression. many organizers are (and have already been) using an affinity group model to actually coordinate those direct actions. autonomous groups can take action on April 15th whether or not others in their city/region have committed to this agreement. just do your homework (look up know-your-rights info specific to where you live + general direct action safety tips) and take good care of each other Blockades: a short guide to getting in the way Basic blockading Practical Protest Techniques: using your body Blockading: a guide ACT UP civil disobedience guide

[chameleon-sting]

wish to god i just kept posting art on my main so i wouldnt have to like worry about either easing people into or explaining the shit thats happening or about to happen

[zamalie]

a lot of arguments against AI “art” just kind of rely on everyone to unanimously agree that its existence will forever be a moral failure and nobody should ever be interested in its development and like. even if i were inclined to agree with that (which i very much dont for a multitude of reasons) does that really not strike anyone as uh. utterly futile

[mooncleaver]

Love Is The Reason

ღ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, familial fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

ღ warnings: MAJOR JJK268 SPOILERS. pls don't read if you don't wanna know!! slightly cannon divergent

What the hell.

His ears didn't stop ringing as he brought his body up from its position on the surprisingly soft surface, feeling every ache known to man throbbing all over. Megumi felt the cosmic numbness ebbing away like a flash, and suddenly, he could discern the warm cotton wrapped around his upper body along with the linen sheets that lay beneath him. The three—out of many—scars on his face pulled his skin tautly, so close to his eyes where that devil's face wore his for however long this limbo period was. It hurt to open his eyes. Well, it hurt to do anything, but he's thankful that he can see the world through his own view.

Megumi's ears perk up to the sound of poorly attempted hushed arguments. The sound was so familiar that for once in his life, he felt relieved to hear it. To feel that irritation ticking in his chest, the mindless crease that's fully starting to make itself known on his forehead, and that growing scowl—he could truly cry at the return of bodily autonomy.

Nobara was trying to fit herself inside a present-shaped cardboard box while Yuji stood next to the thing, pushing down the lid on top of her head, which ruffled the strands like crazy. Of course, the girl would not stand for this butchering of her beauty. She spent a lot of time trying to look presentable, not that this pink-haired fool would understand.

Megumi is hit with a deep sense of dejavu as he sits up against the headboard, looking back at the memory of Gojo doing the same exact surprise tactic to announce that Yuji was, in fact, not dead after his literal heart got ripped out of his chest. The boy can feel a smile forming on his lips, and he makes no move to try and stop it.

"What are you two doing?"

He sees Yuji and Nobara freeze in their spots, both eyes widening comically. A second passes before the two let go of whatever it was they were contending about, rushing forward to stick their faces into Megumi's. The former vessel looks—well, he looks like he's had better days. He's thankfully clean of all the blood oozing out of his skin when he fought Sukuna for the last time, his usual uniform with the red hoodie looking incredibly pristine, absent of any rips or blood. Still, some are sticking onto his face, notably a darker shade cutting down across his eyebrows as the dried blood clings onto his wounds. Nobara looks happier. God, he thought she died. He was ready to mourn her with all the losses he'd suffered, but for once, Megumi was glad to hear her voice. He welcomes it. She's wearing a black eyepatch on top of the eye that she lost fighting Mahito, and her uniform is equally as clean as Yuji's—Megumi can tell that she's relieved by that fact.

Finally, they're back together again. The trio of first years with lost dreams who've gone through horrible, terrible things now have found hope again—hope that never died within each other.

"Fushiguro!!" The two yell in unison, going in to hug him despite knowing he didn't usually like that kind of thing. But to their honest surprise, Megumi returned the gesture, fully and truly, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. Yuuji and Nobara didn't hesitate to tighten their arms around the spiky-haired boy, be damned the near-death exhaustion clinging to their bones. They may be battered and bruised, but they survived.

After a quiet moment, the momentum was back again as Nobara looked at the two boys with a disgruntled expression, her exaggerated self on display at the lack of reaction to her return. "You know, the class's Madonna, who everyone thought was dead, by the way, turned out to be alive?! You two should be either wetting yourself or crying with joy!"

Megumi didn't even bat an eye, unlike Yuji, who was scrambling out of his mind, replying to her in his usual stoic and flat voice. "I see. My bad."

"So, the bastard is dead then." The Fushiguro didn't phrase that like a question, more so stating a fact. The fact that he was here in his own body, alive and breathing, undoubtedly meant that the curse was dead. It was still surreal to utter, knowing that this was the one thing they'd all been fighting for since forever. Maybe now, everyone who was gone didn't die in vain.

Nobara sounded like she was still in disbelief, shaking her head slightly while she grinned and exclaimed, "Ha! Yeah! Itadori beasted that guy like it was a piece of cake!"

"Eh.. well, it was pretty tough, I'm not gonna lie. I cried a little when resonance was hit." Yuji himself could only scratch the back of his neck at the rare praise, his eyes crinkling into thin lines as he admitted his own emotions. It was kind of daunting to be the one who killed Sukuna with the fact that he used to be the curse's vessel. But out of everything, making that final blow was something he didn't once hesitate on. Yuji was going to finish all this madness. It all started with him and ended with him—the way it should be.

Megumi didn't sound too surprised at the boy's admission, only giving him a look in response. "I know. I saw everything happening inside Sukuna."

"Ugh... don't even remind me. Well, at least you two have the shared experience of being a vessel now." Well, no matter how sour the fact was, it was true.

Breaking his thoughts, Yuji suddenly lit up as he shifted through his pants pockets, haphazardly pulling out the crumpled pieces of paper in his hand. "Oh, wait, guys. I have something for you two. It's from Gojo-sensei. Gojo-san, too, I think."

The pink-haired boy grew incredibly sullen at the mention of both his teachers. He'd miss calling out to the two Gojo's, mixing the couple up despite your previous urgings to the students of simply calling you by your first name. Of course, your husband would not absolutely have that, sneakily going behind your back and basically forcing his students to call you Gojo, too. If he couldn't get the second years to follow, he'd make his own kids do it. The man would not pass on the chance of hearing people call you by your shared last name.

"A letter.." Megumi looked shocked at the fact. His sensei (and self-proclaimed dad who stepped up) never did this kind of thing—seriously, that is.

Growing up with Gojo and his wife, Megumi knew the white-haired sorcerer never strayed away from being lighthearted and childlike. Despite witnessing the lanky heir change from the bratty 18-year-old who approached him as a child in the streets into the mature, married man he was the last time, it just wasn't in his nature to be doing some sentimental things like this. That was more like something you'd do. From the daily lunch notes, deep-meaning gifts (that he still kept to this day), and the affectionate texts you'd always send, he would wager that you might've been the one to drag your husband to write the letters. But, knowing that Gojo probably had a feeling that he wouldn't make it out of the fight, it's not impossible that this truly came from him.

Nobara chuckled at his tone of voice, silently agreeing with his disbelief. Gojo was definitely not the type to do this.. it unsettled her.

"I feel you.. this is totally not like him. It's slightly gross to even imagine him writing letters.."

Though, after reading, she crushed the piece of paper in her hand, pursing her lips. Yuji noticed this, facing her to ask what it said. With slight hesitation, Nobara revealed that it contained information about her mother's whereabouts. To be honest, she wasn't sure how to feel. Some part of her still longed to feel her love.

"Oh, did you even want to know in the first place?"

She shook her head as she looked down, leaving no room for the topic to be continued. "Not at all."

Suddenly, they heard the very, very rare sound of Megumi's laughter ringing out from the bed. Gojo would've bawled knowing he made his son laugh. It took a moment for them to snap out of the shock, seeing the fresh face of their friend's smile. He looked like a brand new person—content, young and carefree. It was refreshing.

Megumi hasn't felt this happy in a long while. He expected that the message wouldn't be some deep, meaningful thing, but out of everything, it was a joke about how he killed his biological dad. He wasn't sad, surprisingly. Megumi never really knew the man that left him and his sister to fend for themselves, and the memories he had of him weren't great. At least he found some closure. The boy shook his head, reading the familiar and large handwriting of his father figure. You'd think that it'd be messy, but as the former heir of the Gojo clan, Satoru was a trained guy in the art of handwriting. He wouldn't be caught dead with scribbles.

Unfortunately your father isn't around anymore!! Cuz I killed him!! Sowwy!! :P

Short, simple, and kind of foolish.

He bit back a grin. Even in death, the man couldn't take anything seriously.

Beneath it was a softer and more serious note. From you, of course. Megumi did not doubt that you wrote this to make up for your husband's short message, writing a heartfelt one that he could sense even before reading. The two of you must've known that this was not a fight you would come out of. And as much as that hurt him, Megumi was glad that he was in your last thoughts. It meant a lot to know that you and Gojo believed he, Nobara, and Yuji would live through everything.

Firstly, don't take this idiot too seriously. If you're reading this megs, we're probably gone, but hey, you're okay! Live your life fully okay? Don't forget that you're still a kid in the end. We're always looking out for you, sweetheart. ♡

There was a chibi doodle in the bottom and a sweet greeting that said,

— Love you beyond infinity, mom & dad

Megumi could tell that this was Gojo's handwriting. It was meant as a joke (the boy didn't call Satoru dad very often, despite calling you mom. It was kinda cringe.) but he accepted that sincerely. You two were his parents, biological or not. He loves you so much.

And he'd promise that for you. For Satoru, too, to be honest. To live life fully. Ever since he knew what living meant, he never intended to live a proper life. The absence of his biological father and the death of his mother left an untreated wound in his heart, altering his mind in a way that left him isolated—a recluse from the world, almost. The only thing that used to keep him going was his sister, Tsumiki. Now she is really gone. But then, everything shifted when he first saw Gojo Satoru.

It was a big change to have people to look up to. To have a mother. Megumi called you mom way before he even considered Satoru as his father figure, and it was one of the most precious things in life. You never took that for granted, always spoiling him and treating him like he came from your own womb. You knew you'd never take the place of his biological mother, but you wanted to be someone the boy could rely on in such a cruel world. It was a bit strange when Satoru first brought up the idea of raising the Fushiguro boy. You were both still 18, barely even adults with so much pressure and responsibilities. But you knew, from the moment you saw this poor boy getting dragged home by your boyfriend, that you'd love him like no other.

You and Satoru gave him and Tsumiki a home. An unlikely one, but a home nonetheless. You gave him a love like no other, an unconditional, wholehearted, and absolute kind of love, even when the two of you were struggling. It was a type that couldn't be described by words and only felt. That, along with the friendship and true family he found within Nobara and Yuji, made him realize that even if he didn't live his life for himself, there were others in the world. Other people, whether that'd be a mother, a father, a sister, or a brother could give everything meaning. A reason to keep going.

At first, he only lived for Tsumiki. To use everything he had to save her. But then he found himself living for you, for Satoru, for Nobara and Yuji. Once more, he would try again. This wasn't a chance he'd take for granted.

Reading the note made Megumi feel a kind of warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. The kind that he last felt when you hugged him tightly and kissed his forehead before everything in Shibuya happened. That was probably the last time he saw you happy and alive. The world was dull when you died. A victim of that son of a bitch curse Mahito. That was a loss like no other, so incredibly painful and numbing.

At least you died in an honorable way.

After that, he didn't know how to function. Tsumiki, Nobara, and now you. The boy felt half of his soul chip away.

Your husband was even worse. Inconsolable. Watching his wife die in front of his eyes before getting sealed the second after. When the man came out of the prison realm, anyone could tell he wasn't the same. There was no chance the old Gojo would ever return. And sure, he was still lighthearted, but Megumi could tell there was a weight in his gait—the heavy burden of the loss of his darling wife dragging down every word that came out of his mouth. He saw the sadness, longing, anger, and pure vengeance in his eyes. It never did go away. Not even when Sukuna butchered the man in half. At least now, the two of you were together in the afterlife. Megumi truly hoped that. He didn't believe much in that kind of stuff, but for his mother and his father, he prayed for a final peace to be granted.

That hope—along with the one amongst the living pushed Megumi to go on. To not just survive but to really live. Even beyond that, there were others too. His cousin, Maki, who was thankfully alive, and even Toge and Panda.

This was love. That unanswered purpose of life. It's to give love and find love in others. Love is why people do crazy things: to sacrifice the world, to sacrifice themselves. That's why he kept living even when his own dad disappeared or why he kept fighting to keep his sister alive. Love is why, despite the grief, Satoru still fought for you, for your memory, and for your efforts. Love is the reason he's alive.

And if anything, Megumi learned that when you have people in your life, you'd do anything to keep them in it. That's what you and Satoru taught him. Waking up in his own body again and greeted by the sight of his best friends—that was one of the biggest blessings he has ever received.

For his family, he would do anything.

i'm fucking crying. like actually. 3 chapters to go until this manga ends and i still can't fathom everything happening bruv

btw, this is what i imagine the letter would look like haha. half cannonical cuz it's the panel translation!! excuse my handwriting um

also sorry this isn't really proofread lol, i really wanted to post!!

dividers @cafekitsune @i-mmaculatus

[headspace-hotel]

re: ohio chemical disaster

OP of the post I reblogged earlier regarding this turned off reblogs (understandable have a nice day) but I got a request to put the information in its own post, so here.

First thing: PLEASE be careful about claims that "The Media" is suppressing something as part of a malicious agenda, or that an event has been purposefully manufactured by "The Media" to distract from something else.

Not only is this a really common disinformation tactic (not only urging you to share/reblog quickly, but discouraging you from fact checking), treating "The Media" as a monolithic entity with purposeful agency and a specific, malicious agenda—particularly one that manufactures events to "distract" from other events—is a red flag for conspiracy theories.

There's already a post in the tag attributing the supposed lack of media coverage to "reptilians." Please connect the dots here.

Second—"the news isn't focusing on this as much as I think they should" is not a media blackout. Every major USA news source is reporting on the Ohio train derailment. Googling returns at least 4 pages of results from major news media sources. Even just googling "Ohio" gets you plenty of results about it.

This is an unusual amount of media attention for a U.S. environmental disaster.

Because this kind of thing happens all the damn time.

The "media blackout" narrative gives the impression that this is an unusual event that isn't receiving wall to wall coverage only because it's being suppressed—when the reality is that similar disasters happen a lot, and hardly ever get the attention the Ohio disaster is getting.

Consider this example, not too far from my local area: A few years ago, almost 2,000 tons of radioactive fracking waste were illegally dumped in an Eastern Kentucky municipal landfill, directly across from a middle school. Leachate from that landfill goes into the Kentucky River, which is where most of the central part of the state gets its drinking water. As far as we know, the radioactive waste isn't leaking yet, but it could start leaking at any time.

Zero national news sources covered this. Why? If I was to hazard a guess, I would say "because it's business as usual for the fossil fuel industry."

Consider also the case of Martin County, KY, which has had foul-smelling, contaminated drinking water for decades. Former coal country in Appalachia is poisoned and toxic, and laws have little power to punish the companies that created the destruction.

What happened in Ohio is just a little window into a whole world of horrors.

The Martin County coal slurry spill that is still poisoning the water 20 years later killed literally everything in the water for miles downstream (a book Mom read said 70 miles of the Ohio river were made completely lifeless). It was 30 times larger than the Exxon-Valdez oil spill, and it was in some sense "covered up"—in the sense that the Bush administration shut down the investigation because the Republicans are buddies with the fossil fuel industry, and proceeded to relax regulations even further.

Seriously, read that wiki article to get pissed enough to eat glass.

Hopefully the Ohio chemical spill will inspire real action to institute regulations to prevent shit like this from ever happening again. It's not the end of the world. It's not radically different from what industries have been causing the whole damn time. It is pretty bad.

I would urge everyone to actually search up information about it instead of getting news from Tiktok or Twitter, because the more false information gets distributed, the less momentum any effort to respond with improved regulations and changes to prevent future disasters will have. Plenty of facts here *are* public and being publicly discussed and pretending that they're not is actively detrimental.

[heesdreamer]

off the ice

PAIRING ➩ sunghoon x reader

SUMMARY ➩ dubbed ‘ice princess’ at an early age for you ice skating skills, you face the biggest challenge of your career when you’re paired with your rival for a competition dance.

GENRE ➩ rivals to lovers enemies to lovers

WARNINGS ➩ suggestive content, abusive figures and strict career lifestyle mentions.

WC ➩ 17.1k

DISCLAIMER : im not citing this as sunghoons personal experience with training or his career and im not making light of the abuse that goes on in the ice skating field and the strict dieting and lifestyle. also side note i literally don’t know a single technical term for skating tricks or competitions so this is my limited descriptive talented and googled information lol (not proofread)

The human body was something you’d never quite been able to grasp completely. It’s rules for right and wrong, it’s reactions to certain stimuli. The way it can bend and twist but not break yet one small accident can ruin it forever.

There was nothing you dreaded more than having that type of accident. It plagued your mind from early morning to late night, what ways you could avoid getting hurt.

Ironic considering your lifestyle choices seemed to bring nothing but hurt, only in the shape of bruised limbs and sore muscles.

Since you were 4 years old, your entire existence had been devoted to one thing. One single thing in your frame of sight, one thing that would determine your future and if you succeeded as a prodigy or failed as an old hobbyist.

On your fourth Christmas your mother had gifted you a small box that was wrapped tightly with a pretty purple bow. At that age you were, of course, more interested in the packaging itself than the contents inside it.

Little did you know, your whole entire growing life form was sitting inside the small box and you were en route to become a prodigy in the making.

For the next 15 years you spent everyday on the ice. Obviously retiring the tiny pair of skates that was hidden behind the old purple bow, you’d gone through dozens of pairs are you grew and the stitching began to fade and tear.

Throughout your school years, you lost yourself in a daze of studying followed by practice followed by studying followed by more practice. You, impressively, managed to keep a small hand full of friends despite the constant look of disappointment you’d face after canceling hangouts.

Then you were graduating, and with a big smile on your face, flowers in hand, you prepared to take a deep breath in and start your life with a blank state. The way you wanted it to be.

You scowled at the memory now as your hands smacked against the cold ice, shavings from the skid of your blade sneaking their way under your gloves and sleeves. Your deep breath of relief had been cut short by the icy chill and reminder that what you had been training for, didn’t end at adulthood.

“That’s the third time you’ve missed that.” Your coach was declaring from off on the side of the rink, ringing her hands together and peering down at you.

You didn’t mind Coach Suzy, if anything she was miles better than dealing with your mothers remarks and insults, but her need to point out the obvious wasn’t your favorite quirk of hers.

Pushing off from the ice back onto your skates, you held your scowl and did a loop around the rink to get back into the motion of it. Three tries without success was, in your standards at least, a complete failure. Your mother would be having a complete public fit if she had found the time to come today.

You simply haven’t, and did not, lose and you weren’t planning on making a late habit of it. Throughout your career you were quickly dubbed a skater to be on the lookouts for, a growing prodigy with a burning passion and a unique sense of style, the Princess of the Ice.

So to be stood here with ice under your nails like a complete amateur, was unacceptable. You furrowed your brows and prepared to send off again, picking up speed and hopefully enough momentum to complete the one jump you’d never had luck with.

Your coach’s whistle stopped you in your tracks and you turned your skate against the ice, stopping abruptly and glaring towards her in confusion. Upon the sight of her, and her newfound companion, your shoulders were deflating with annoyance and exhaustion.

Stood on her side, leaning against the railing and watching you with a half smirk and a skate digging into the ice below him, was none other than Park Sunghoon.

Park Sunghoon had begun his training around the same time as you and you two had immediately been put into comparison, despite the difference in genders never actually leading you to competing. Although, you didn’t need to be in front of judges to compete with each other.

He oozed natural talent and charisma, his body light in the air and swift on the ice. He was quickly named the best skater in your area and he’d yet to lose the title, with you always following a close second. The Ice Prince was spreading throughout the whispers of judges and growing fandoms and to make matters worse for you, he was completely humble.

“Making slushees princess?” His low mocking voice floating across the ice towards you reminded you immediately that humble, did not mean he was kind.

Quite the opposite actually. You and Sunghoon had both fully taken on the position of rivals in training and performance, paying more attention to each others marks than the ones of the girls you actually were being ranked against.

So despite your mutual popularity and matching affectionate nicknames given by the public, you’d yet to do any sort of collaborative stage or paired competition. Until this years national competition.

You came to a slow skate as you approached the two of them, doing a small spin before clumsily falling back against the railing and taking a deep breath. Your coach smiled over at you and your antics before putting on her serious face.

“It’s only three months before the competition guys and I know it’s not what either of you wanted and it’s a short timeframe but I need practice to start within the week.”

The practice and competition she was referring to was the fact your worst nightmare had come true last month when another soloist from your district was chosen to represent at this years comp. You had no idea why she was picked over you considering you routinely ranked higher than her but what’s done is done.

You had come to terms with the fact you wouldn’t be competing for the first time in your life, almost feeling a strange sense of relief at the thought, when Coach Suzy dropped the bomb on you that you were instead selected for the pair dance.

You weren’t completely unfamiliar with skating with a partner, doing some casual dances in low scale showcases and once or twice in an actually competition, but you had a bad gut feeling about who your partner would be judging by her hesitance.

And looking back over to his smirking face now, that same nasty gut feeling was sinking back in.

It wasn’t the actual performance you were necessarily worried about, Sunghoon was no doubt talented and he had more experience with partners than you. It was the enforced effort that not strangling each other everyday was going to take, that was stressing you out.

——

It was 4am and you were sat in the center of the rink, the cold ice against your legs and back wasn’t bothering you much, only a slight distraction as you read through the script and guide for your expected performance.

Your brows were furrowed as you flipped through the pages swiftly, nearly tearing them with the force you moved them. So focused in on the words in front of you, you didn’t even notice the sounds of the gates squeaking until a skate was in front of you.

Without glancing up, you sighed and flipped the booklet closed, raising it up in an attempt to hand it to the boy standing over you. You studied his signature skates with annoyance, furthering when he didn’t take the paper from you.

“I’ve read it.” He explained and you finally looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were tired but also seemed to be studying your reaction to the materiel. You briefly wondered if he was having a late night or an early morning as you drifted your gaze to his tight black turtleneck down to his sport pants.

“Is she kidding with this?” You scoffed and pushed off your hands so you were standing with him now. He didn’t say anything, watching as you tugged down your sweater and wiped your hands off on the thick fabric. “It’s like sex on ice.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.” He offered with a raised eyebrow and he laughed when you turned your sharp glare towards him. “It’s a staple, you know it is. And besides it’s a big deal that the ice royalty are performing together.”

You didn’t miss the hint of disdain in his voice at the audience given title and you once again found yourself admiring his humbleness, despite it seemingly border-lining on insecurity occasionally.

“Why are you here?” You found yourself asking before you even realized you were starting to speak, you pushed off into a slow skate in a loop around him and he spun softly in place to watch you as you circled him.

He shrugged softly, the sharp line of his shoulders raising and falling and you quirked an eyebrow at his lack of answer. Eventually he sighed and spoke again. “I just come here sometimes..”

Immediately you understood what he meant and why he’d be at the rink at these hours. The same reasons why instead of studying at home, you were sprawled against the cold ice that was natural for you.

Sunghoon and you had never seen eye to eye but you were undoubtedly living a lifestyle that not many people your age could relate to, and that was clear to you as you spent the earliest years of your life searching for somebody who could even half understand that reasoning behind why, sometimes, the only place to go was the skating center.

“Did you want to practice what you’ve read so far or just talk.” His sharp tone was seeping into his words again, switching the atmosphere immediately and you frowned for a second before remembering who you were talking with. You scowled and laid back onto the ice, the starting position of your dance.

“On your side” He said lowly as he laid down next to you, a few inches between you. You nodded, accepting that he understood the choreography better than you, and turned towards him. Your eyes followed down the slope of his nose to his eyes that were staring at the ceiling.

It felt strange to lay on the ice in such a vulnerable position and even stranger to be laying next to Park Sunghoon.

“Don’t face me idiot.” He was sighing, without looking at you, and you groaned and turned onto your other side.

“Music cue.” You whispered and he hummed in agreement. The first part of your performance was no doubt the most awkward for you, you understood the physical contact that came with stunts and pair skating but this felt unnecessary and strange.

You rolled your body across the ice closer to Sunghoon until you were climbing overtop of him, both arms out and caging his body so you didn’t touch. He was holding in a laugh as he watched you and you glared down at him.

“This is so stupid.” You muttered and and completed the roll so you were now laying on his right side, close enough to touch now. The position didn’t last long because his next move was to do a similar roll overtop of you, pulling you up with him to a standing position.

“It’s romantic.” He repeated his teasing words from earlier but they felt a lot more intimate now that he was laying on top of you, peering down at you from under his floppy bangs. You suddenly felt the urge to kick him off of you.

“Raise your chest up.” He instructed and you did so robotically causing him to pause and glare at you. “At least attempt to look graceful.”

You groaned and flopped back down against the ice, taking a breath and counting to three before once again sitting up slightly, this time putting more emotion behind your movements.

He nodded softly as he swiftly jumped to a stand over you at the same time you moved, his hands coming up behind you to rest on your shoulder blades. He was awkwardly bent over you in a frozen position, thinking about the next move.

“I forgot.” He mumbled and you sighed, pushing him backwards on his skates and bringing yourself up to stand instead of relying on him.

“I thought you read it genius.” You growled and circled back around to your abandoned script, flipping open the first page and studying it. You glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow at the zoned out look on his face. “I wrap my arms around your neck.”

He seemed to snap out of his gaze and looked over at you quickly. “Yeah then I lift you, I remember.”

You sighed and shook your head in his direction, ignoring the quirk of his dark eyebrow and obvious confusion at your motion. Without another word you turned and started skating back towards the edge of the rink, preparing to silently call it a night and start again tomorrow at practice.

“So that’s all you’ve got then?” You ignored his voice as it echoed from across the ice, by now you were far to use to his quick one lined remarks to truly let it have any effect on you. “Didn’t realize you were so content with losing princess.”

The sound of the ice under your skate was almost deafening as you turned your foot and squealed to a stop, ice flakes kicking up onto your ankles from the force of the abrupt brake.

You spun around and were back in his space in seconds, eyes burning from under your sweaty bangs and he stared down at you with amusement and that competitive fire you were used to seeing from him.

“I don’t lose Park.” You were spitting the words in his direction, the tips of your skates brushing against his with a soft clank that went unheard. You lifted a hand towards his chest and jabbed a finger onto the fabric of his turtleneck, causing him to softly rock backwards a few centimeters. “And I won’t start now so get your shit together and reread the script.”

——

Some mornings you felt almost robotic in the way you could wake up and be at practice before you even registered brushing your teeth, a quick blur of familiarity and installed routine.

Other mornings you wondered how much it would hurt to have to peel your skin from off your mattress, the imagery being the most accurate representation of how it felt to wake up and actually get started.

You were falling somewhere in the middle today, trudging through the lobby of the sports center with puffy eyes and jutted out lips to match. Marching past Coach Suzy, you ignored her furrowed brows.

“What is with the two of you today?” She was calling from behind you and you didn’t need to ask her what she was talking about, catching sight of the other half of her reference already out on the ice and wearing the same clothes from when you’d last saw him. You suppose your question of late night or early morning was answered now.

After you had laced up your skates and pushed out onto the ice, he offered you a quick nod of subtle acknowledgment.

“What.. no morning princess?” You admit you were grumbling as you skated past him, planning to warm up with a few loops around the rink. He caught up to you as you started, skating backwards so he could face you.

“I knew you secretly liked it.” His retort caused you to scoff and turn your eyes into a glare, although you both noted the lack of usual serious intensity. You were too tired to go back and forth with him today and judging off the darkness under his eyes, he was in a similar boat.

“She’s going to run us into the ground today.” You replied with instead, a subtle warning in your voice and he quirked an eyebrow at the casual conversation you were initiating.

“Looking forward to it princess.”

——

You were regretting not taking your own warning more seriously, hours had passed and most the other skaters at the center had packed up and went home, sparing you and your partner a pity filled glance as they left.

Coach Suzy had been relentlessly instructing you repeat and repeat the steps until they were perfection, even stopping you a few dozens times before you’d even completed the first move citing it was “messy and emotionless”.

“Where’s the chemistry.” She was shouting from the sidelines and you sighed loudly from your place above Sunghoon, he was holding you up by your waist for one of the smaller stunts and you felt him peering up at you. “There’s no passion.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You heard Sunghoon muttering as he gently set you back down onto the ice before, not so gently, kicking it with his blade in frustration.

You were standing still on the ice, taking a deep breath and resting your head back to look up at the glass ceiling above you, seeing the blue hue of the sun finishing setting. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and brought your attention back to your coach.

“Tell us how to fake it and we will.” You told her earnestly. You were frustrated that she wasn’t allowing you to fully practice the moves with eachother, despite understanding the need for a show of emotion to capture the audience, what was the point if you fell on your ass during a poorly practiced stunt.

“You can’t fake chemistry princess.” As much as you admired and respected your coach for the years of her life she dedicated towards you and your career, you couldn’t help but flinch at the way she spat the title at you. Her tone was almost mocking as frustration got the best of her.

Sunghoon came into frame, skating forward and placing himself in front of you. You couldn’t see his face but judging by the way your coach’s features softened over his shoulder, you imagined his expression showed he wasn’t happy with the way she was speaking to you.

“I don’t mean to be like this.” She shook her head and wrung her mittened hands together. “There’s lots of reasons here why it’s important for you kids to win…. Stuff we can talk about soon.”

Neither of you spoke for a bit, staring at her off in the distance and still catching your breaths from the intense practice. Sunghoon turned his head to look at you from over his shoulder and you nearly smiled at the familiar fire in his gaze. You nodded at him in confirmation.

“Don’t worry, we’re winning.”

——

“What part of this are you not fucking understanding.” Sunghoon’s irritated yell was hitting the back of your head as you skated a bit away in anger, taking deep breaths and attempting to not escalate the situation. “It’s a simple cascade down, it’s not even a stunt.”

“I understand it asshole.” You were spinning around to face him, your voice coming out loud and bouncing across the ice. “Maybe if you supported me better it’d be easier to want to drop down.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, watching you with downturned eyes behind his messy bangs and catching his breath slightly. Then he was shaking his head and skating towards the edge of the ice, opening the gate and looking back at you expectantly.

You watched him with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl, not understanding what he was silently insinuating or why you would cut practice short after only 6 hours. Only two days had past since the talk with your coach and if anything, you’ve only gotten more hostile towards each other.

“Let’s go.” He eventually spoke with a sigh, annoyed he had to spell it out to you. “I know a place that’s open.”

The place he was referring to was apparently a 24 hour diner placed just two blocks from the center. You’d never seen it before and this didn’t surprise you considering you rarely went anywhere besides practice and home and even more rarely ate out.

You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about eating out somewhere that seemingly only served classic American grease fest and milkshakes, but Sunghoon seemed comfortable and relaxed as he slid into the booth opposite you.

You were questioning now if you’d ever seen him look so casual. Sure, he was known to be friendly and he obviously was no stranger to jokes and teasing but if you saw him here any other time, you’d think he was just a regular student without a care.

This left a weird pit in your stomach considering the fact he wasn’t a regular student and neither were you, and acting like one wouldn’t do you any good when it came to your future or this competition.

Still your thoughts fizzled out when the older waitress wandered over to your table, pocketing her order book with familiarity as she looked at the boy sat across from you.

“Sunghoon, it’s been too long sweetie.” She was smiling brightly down at him and he was glancing at you with a half smirk, you almost sensed bashfulness in his expression. “Is this your girlfriend?”

It took you a second to realize she was referring to you, her warm motherly gaze falling to your side and cocking her head in anticipation for a response. Your mouth parted in surprise as you fumbled for an answer.

“She’s a friend.” Sunghoon rushed out before you could, awkwardly avoiding your gaze picking at the old chipped vinyl on the table. You furrowed your eyebrows at the use of the word. Was he just avoiding more questions or did he actually consider you two to be friends?

The waitress looked between the two of you with a quirked eyebrow and you felt slight annoyance at the teasing glint in her eyes, like she knew something you didn’t. You opted for staring at the table infront of you, watching Sunghoon’s anxious habit. She muttered something about getting his usual and then she was off back into the kitchen.

Sunghoon cleared his throat and you looked up at him from behind your hair. He was watching you, still with an air of awkwardness, and you once again noted how different he looked in this setting.

“Why are we here?” You automatically felt bad at the harshness in your tone and if it was anybody else you’d apologize or take it back. But you could tell that he understood you were frustrated and tired from practice and antsy about wasting time.

“Coach said we don’t have any chemistry.” He explained and you gave him a look that made him chuckle under his breath. He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward slightly. “I don’t know, I thought maybe we should try to have an actual conversation.”

“We have conversations.” You butt in, shaking your head like it was an obvious statement. You’d known the boy for almost your entire life, even if you were reluctant to admit it, you’d spoken to him more than most people you know.

“When’s my birthday.” His voice penetrated your line of thought and you looked back up at him, slightly shrinking at the question. “Do I have any siblings? Matter of fact, have you ever even seen me outside of the center?”

You were glaring at him as he spoke, although you couldn’t deny what he was saying. You wracked your brain for any counter argument, grasping at straws. “Three years ago I saw you at a 7/11.”

“Woah.” He raised an eyebrow at this and smiled down at you, looking slightly surprised when you offered a small smile back. “What was I doing?”

“Buying snacks.” You gave him a disapproving stare. You weren’t lying about this, much to your surprise you had caught him a few winters ago with two handfuls of restricted snacks and a jumbo soda balanced in his arm.

“And you didn’t rat me out?” He was definitely teasing but you still thought you heard a bit of surprise and truth in his words, like he genuinely expected you to run and tell on him. “Wait, why were you at 7/11?”

For a moment you considered lying, telling him you were getting pain pills or a protein bar but this new excited look on his face was silently urging you to lean into the openness of the conversation.

“Isn’t it obvious? I was buying snacks.” You leaned back in the booth and crossed your arms. A loud laugh pushed past his lips and your eyes widened slightly at the sound, more used to chuckles or scoffs.

His tired gaze softened on you slightly at your surprised expression but before he could speak or continue the conversation, a second waitress was returning with your food (two orders of Sunghoon’s ‘usual’).

You were staring down at the plate with a curious expression, slightly overwhelmed by the amount of food placed in front of you. You could feel his stare on you as you studied it and you lifted an eyebrow without looking up at him. “How do you practice after eating all this?”

He snorted another laugh and unraveled his silverware, leaning forward again to cut up your pancakes. You lifted your gaze to watch him as he did this, sleeves rolled up on his arms and eyes concentrated on his task. After finishing with the pancakes, and taking half for himself, he answered your question vaguely.

“Intensely.” His reply caused you to frown slightly and you were grateful for his habit of avoiding eye contact so he didn’t see the pity in your gaze.

It was no secret to anyone, and especially to you, that your sport was a tough one with intense practice and overall lifestyle. You’d spent more time than you’d admit worrying about the health of other kids you trained with and that included Sunghoon, who always seemed to be working ten times as hard as everybody else.

“How about once a week?”

“What?” He looked confused at your words and paused mid bite of his scrambled eggs, eyeing you with a question in his gaze.

“Once a week we eat here.” You explained, awkwardly toying with a piece of bacon in front of you. “Like… together.”

His silence was driving you crazy and you felt your heart rate increasing with each second that he didn’t respond to you, even with a rejection laugh or an awkward denial at your attempt to get closer. You reminded yourself that this was for the sake of winning and spared him a glance. He was watching you with a familiar smirk and you sighed softly.

“I knew you liked me princess.”

——

A few days had passed since the start of your new weekly ritual with Sunghoon, days full of practice and studying the demo video the two of you had scrapped together the week prior. You were watching it now and even though it was messy and unpolished, you felt semi proud at the way the two of you looked on the ice together.

Picturing it with more practice, the right facial expression and some competition level costumes and you were starting to understand why this was something people were looking forward to. And they definitely were.

Proven by the way a newspaper was smacked onto the ice infront of you, causing you to jump slightly before lowering the iPad and glancing at it to see a poorly edited photo of you and Sunghoon on the cover. You glared down at the paper and the latter mentioned laughed from above you.

“We’re the talk of the town.” You could hear the smile on his face and you pushed the paper away from you.

“I’m pretty sure we have actual photos together.” You mumbled. “Why did they edit it like that?”

You looked up in time to see him shrug and to also take in his attire. He was wearing a form fighting black turtleneck T-shirt that was tucked into his usual sport pants. Your gaze went down to his white gloves and he took notice of your stare, wiggling his fingers mockingly.

“Go change.” You frowned, standing up to reveal your similar outfit, only your shirt was white and your gloves were black, perfectly matching his in opposite colors.

He stared down at you with an annoyed expression and for a second you considered pushing him backwards on his skates, not liking that the toe of yours were nearly touching his. You decided against it at the thought he might trip and fall.

“Less talking, more practice.” You looked over at the new voice to see your coach, her hair messy from the snow outside as she unraveled her red scarf from around her neck. “Oh don’t you two look cute.“

You groaned at her comment referring to your matching outfits, turning and skating away from Sunghoon and over to where she was sitting along the sidelines. You vaguely heard the sound of his skates following behind you and you noted his lack of comment at her teasing remark.

“Did you see this?” You turned the paper towards her direction and she looked up in question, eyes brightening when she caught sight of what you were holding.

“Oh it’s wonderful.” She chirped out and you glanced back at Sunghoon, who mirrored your look of confusion. “It’s even better than I expected.”

“So you knew about it?” Sunghoon voice was closer than you expected it to be and you almost turned around and shoved him away before remembering your coach’s frantic need for you two to cooperate, and your deal made the other night. Still you weren’t quite used to his casual presence yet.

“Knew about it? I asked for it.” She explained and you gave her an incredulous look, shifting your eyes to the photo and bold headline.

Directly above the edited photo of the both of you, adorning crowns and a few photoshopped hearts between you was the large capital words, ‘ICE ROYALTY! ROMANCE ON ICE… AND OFF?’

You let a few beats pass as you stared at the cover, letting her get the read on your feelings towards the situation. “Why on earth would you do that?”

Sunghoon was clearing his throat behind you and you were grateful that he was seemingly going to add his two cents in, in agreement against the article. “I mean… it gets people curious.”

Your mouth parted and you spun around to face him, this time when your skates bumped into eachother you did push him slightly backwards. He seemed to be expecting it and glided a few inches away from you easily, his relaxed expression only adding to your annoyance.

“In what world do we need rumors and idiocy to win this?” You spat at him and his lip turned down for just a second before his eyebrows hardened. “We should be practicing not standing here talking about stupid fake headlines.”

“Oh but you seem pretty content storming out of practice whenever you get a little bit frustrated.” He spat back at you and you faltered for just a second, not expecting such anger directed back towards you. Overwhelmed, your mind shot straight to defense.

“Maybe because you’re impossible to be around.” You hissed towards him, fist clenched at your side. You both fell quiet and you shut your eyes for a second, willing him to say something back so your impulsive words weren’t left hanging in the cold air between you.

“That’s enough.” Your coach’s voice sounded tired but firm and you kept your eyes shut, regret seeping into your skin. You didn’t want to see his expression, regardless if it was hatred or hurt. “No practice for a few days, go home early.”

——

Not being on the ice was making your skin itch and your head feel like it was floating ten feet away from your body on a thin rope. You were thankful for the snow falling outside, accompanying you on cold walks and slightly keeping you grounded. It wasn’t often you had a break from practice and maybe there was times where this was all you wanted, but something felt heavy and wrong about the way things had occurred.

You felt even worse about what you had said to Sunghoon because you had meant it. Maybe not in the way he took, as a personal hit at his character, but definitely in the way that your competitive and insecure nature had crafted up your whole life.

It was almost impossible to be calm and in the right headset with somebody who seemed to be relaxed and carefree despite living the same life as you, you who could barely get through the day without multiple stress driven outburst.

Especially now, standing outside the diner, you realized how much better of a person he was than you. If he had said those words to you, you wouldn’t have shown up tonight. Maybe you would have even begged for a new partner or dramatically switched training halls.

But as you stood wrapped tightly in a thick jacket and a scarf, shaking from the cold and dark walk over here, you stared at the side of his face through the foggy window and took a deep guilty breath.

The entrance bell ringing as you pushed open the frosty door seemed louder than normal and so did the silence that screamed between the two of you as you sat down across from him. He didn’t look at you as you approached and for a moment you wondered if he only came to see if you would.

Then the waitress was circling around and placing a hot drink in front of you, offering you a small smile and a head nod. You managed a confused smile back at her but raised an eyebrow at the drink you didn’t order.

“It’s hot chocolate.” Sunghoon spoke and your eyes widened, shooting up towards him. He was watching you with a careful expression. “It’s cold and you don’t drink coffee.”

You wondered how he knew that about you, when he had observed you enough to have a fact that small stored away. You didn’t voice your confusion, giving him a small nod and taking off your gloves so you could wrap your cold hands around the warm mug.

“I can pull myself out of the competition.” You stopped mid sip as he started to speak, avoiding eye contact with you and fiddling with this thread of his fingerless mittens. “I guess I didn’t realize how hard of a time you were having.”

“I’m not.” You rushed out, immediately flushing at the loud volume of your voice. He looked shocked at your words, watching as you set down the mug carefully and put your elbows on the table. “I’m not having a hard time… well not because of you atleast. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit and you were curious what he was thinking about, not for the first time you found yourself wishing he was not so nice, then maybe he’d have a burst of anger and lay everything on you. You wanted him to call you spoiled or rude, anything other than that soft look he was giving you.

“I’ve always had a hard time.” You don’t know where it came from, the sudden personal statement causing him to tilt his head in the terrible, genuinely curious way that he did. You felt an overwhelming sense that if you didn’t tell him something about you right now, that would be it.

“With me?” His eyebrow cocked and yours furrowed.

“No… or yes.” His lip quirked downwards and you hurried to finish your sentence before a repeat of the other day occurred. “Not because of you but because of me. Because I’m jealous of you and how good you are at everything.”

He seemed to take this in for a second before a scoff escaped his lips, the smile on his face letting you know it was semi lighthearted.

“You’re jealous of me?” His shock was genuine and he leaned back in the booth and sucked a breath in through his teeth. The loud hissing sound made you wince. “And all this time I’ve thought the same about you.”

“Oh whatever.” You mumbled, both not believing what he was saying and not feeling comfortable at the unfamiliarity of the back and forth compliment.

“I mean it.“ Something in the way Sunghoon said it made you want to believe him. “You’re like a natural out there. Living up to your title, if I do say so myself.”

“It doesn’t feel natural, and don’t forget who got the title first.” You felt a bit childish to be refusing his attempt at being civil, nice even, but that nasty insecure part of you wouldn’t allow you to take any compliments from him.

“Well I was excited to be paired with you.” He raised his shoulders in a shrug and you watched him carefully from under your eyelashes. He smiled at you awkwardly when you didn’t immediately respond and your lip jutted out into a pout.

“I’m sorry Sunghoon.” The words felt weighted and empty as you forced them out but you truly meant what you were saying and you hoped he could see that beneath your initial tone. He looked slightly taken back at the use of his first name.

Luckily, he nodded at you and leaned forward on his elbows again, pushing your mug back towards you with two steady fingers. You watched his hand as they came closer to your side of the table, feeling a bit embarrassed when the mug stopped infront of you, insinuating he wanted you to finish the warm liquid.

After a beat you glanced up at him and immediately dropped your gaze back down to the steamy cup at the smirk on his face, his fingers lingering for just a moment before retracting back to under the booth.

“Finish, we have work to do.”

——

“Exactly! That’s exactly it right there.” Sunghoon’s excited words barely registered to you over the sound of your loud panting.

You were leaned over, elbows on your knees and eyes closed shut in an attempt to catch your breath. You’d been going at it relentlessly the last few days, nearly perfecting the basic moves but still needing to add the flare the judges would be looking for.

Sunghoon and you had been getting along for the most part, small spurts of bickering and burst of frustration due to complicated moves but nobody has stormed out or lost any fingers, so it was a win in your book.

“Again.” He was chiming from a few feet away and you glared up at him from behind your sweaty bangs causing him to laugh before assuming his position on the floor.

You were slowly becoming used to it now, the close proximity, the faux romance on your expressions. You were a professional and that’s all this truly was, work. But you were feeling slightly childish about the way you couldn’t get use to his hands on you.

Telling yourself it was just awkwardness, maybe even lingering animosity you were holding that made your stomach turn every time his big hand wrapped it’s way around some part of you, you laid on the ice a few feet away from him.

You routinely rolled over top of him, movements robotic as you avoided looking down at him and he tensed slightly.

When it was his turn to do the same, he paused above you and you frowned, waiting for him to move off of you so you could ease into the next portion.

Instead he stayed in place, caging you in as he balanced himself on his forearms. For a second you thought about the core strength it’d require to hold a plank on ice before shaking your head and internally scolding yourself.

“You’re distracted.” He was saying above you and you felt his breath on your cheek, strongly opposing the cold ice your other one was pressed against. His voice was low and telling, not a question.

“No I’m not.” You scoffed, or atleast the best you could considering if you took a deep inhale your chest would press against his. “Maybe you’re distracted.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you looked at him, still refusing to turn your head incase your noses touched. He was looking down at you intensely however and your stomach flipped again.

“I am.” His voice was firm but you looked at him just in time to see his eyes awkwardly shoot around your face, hesitation in his gaze.

You weren’t fully sure what he was implying and you definitely weren’t going to reply without him outright saying that it was you he was distracted by, the presumed humiliation making you furrow your eyebrows.

The thought crossed your mind that he was making fun of you, that he had someone noticed how hard it was for you to focus around him and was trying to bait a confession out of you.

You turned your head finally, not flinching at the way his nose bumped against yours or the sharp inhale he took at the sudden contact. You held his gaze for just a few seconds before starting to speak.

“Get off me Park.”

He faltered for a second like he wasn’t expecting that sort of response, body completely locking above yours before quickly rolling over onto his back next to you and awkwardly sitting up.

“I’m sorry.” He rushed out and you finally took a big breath before also sitting up and avoiding looking at him. He watched as you stood completely and you felt his eyes on you. “I don’t know why I said that Y/N.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You lied smoothly, keeping your voice steady and shrugging softly as you wiped off the ice shavings that was stuck on your leggings. He was still watching you and you heard him sigh in embarrassment.

“From the start?” He eventually muttered and you glanced over at him, shaking your head.

“I have to head out actually.” You tried to keep your tone casual but he looked pained, obviously not falling for your excuse and realizing you were leaving because of what he said. “First thing tomorrow?”

He didn’t say anything but you knew he had heard you and started to skate off the ice, face flushing with awkwardness as you finally took a breath and accessed what had just happened.

If you weren’t mistaken and he wasn’t pulling some sick joke on you, which judging by his mortified reaction you highly doubted that, Park Sunghoon had just attempted to make a pass at you.

Park Sunghoon who, for the better part of your life, had done nothing but drive you absolutely crazy with anger and jealousy. The same boy who thought it was funny to tie your laces together and watch videos of your failed jumps on the waiting rooms big screen.

You were absolutely sickened by the idea of it and even worse, the fact that the red painting your cheeks was not because of anger.

Storming out from the hall into the snowy night, your stomach was twisting again with what you now fully understood was not nauseation.

It was the stone cold realization that you liked Park Sunghoon.

—-

You hadn’t exaggerated on your call for early practice the next day, entering the hall before the sun had even risen yet.

It didn’t help you’d spend the entire night tossing and turning and screaming into your pillow as you replayed the scenario in your head over and over, analyzing every awkward second of silence or quirk of his eyebrows.

You’d come to the conclusion, at some point during your fourth hour of restlessness, that Sunghoon hadn’t been joking and he was absolutely attempting to flirt with you or at least was testing the waters.

This realization was nothing short of crippling and you almost considered not coming in today, making faking a cough or a sore throat. But the clock was ticking on your time to practice before the competition and with this added distraction, you needed all the time you could get.

So it was driving you a bit insane as the second hour passed and Sunghoon still hadn’t arrived to practice. You hadn’t entered the rink yet, anxiously sitting in the locker room with your skates half tied as you rocked your knees back and forth.

You imagined he would be embarrassed, maybe he hadn’t even thought before he spoke and it came across wrong, but for him to not show up at all was something you couldn’t accept.

Before another minute of waiting could pass you were pulling your phone out and doing something you’ve, somehow, never done before and texting him.

y/n : After all this and you aren’t going to show up? I don’t know about you but this is really important to me and I’m sick of the childishness.

You sent the message before you considered how harsh it was, leaning forward and groaning as your forehead hit your knee. Your phone was clutched to your chest as you waited for the buzz to signal he responded.

It never came and you felt your heart sink to your stomach, smushing its way past the irritation and anger you’d been accumulating the past hour.

You flung your skates off with a yell, wincing internally at the loud echoed bang of them hitting the metal seats that rang throughout the room. Standing swiftly, you stuffed them into your locker and slammed it shut before turning on your heel and going to leave.

In your fury driven urgency to get outside you didn’t peer around the corner before rounding it, resulting in you falling back against the floor as you smacked roughly into somebody approaching at the same time.

You let out another loud groan as you hit the floor, head striking the ground that was luckily covered in rubber mats designed for your skates blades. Still, a wave of pain washed over you at the force in which you fell.

“Fuck.” To make matters worse, you immediately registered as he spoke that it was Sunghoon you’d smacked into. He was leaning down to check you, a hand jutted out in an attempt to help you up. “I’m so sorry I’m late, something came up and-“

“I don’t care.” You cut him off in a snap causing his face to drop in guilt. You ignored his outstretched hand and pushed yourself to a standing position. “I’m leaving.”

“Y/N, I really am telling the truth.” He rushed out, eyes big and desperate. You glared at him and tried to move down the exit hall again, behind stopped by his large frame as he stepped sideways in your way.

“Whatever it is I can’t imagine it could be more important than practice.” You felt the irony in your words as you spoke them, wanting to wince at how similar you sounded to your mother but you were acting on anger.

He seemed to realize this now, deflating with a sigh and staring down at you with his sharp eyebrows pulled to the center of his forehead.

“Let me show you.”

——

You weren’t exactly sure how he had managed to get you here considering how hell bent you’d been on avoiding him or strictly practicing, nothing in between.

But somehow, half an hour later, and you were sat frowning in his passenger seat. Your arms were crossed in irritation and you were stiff and tight in the seat, resisting the urge to look around and analyze his car.

Truthfully you hadn’t even realized he knew how to drive, although it suddenly made sense considering you’d never seen a parent of his at the rink and he always was there at odd hours of the night without the cold bitten cheeks you typically had.

Sunghoon had a strong point when he said you didn’t know anything about each other, you knew it was truthful when he had said it but it was weighing on you now as you looked over at him as he drove.

He looked nervous, shoulders higher and more tense than they usually were but he was sat comfortably in his seat, only one hand on the steering wheel like he’d been driving for a long time. You wondered when he had learned, who had taught him or if maybe he’d taught himself.

You’d never thought of Sunghoon as lonely. He was always bouncing around competitions with a bright smile, chatting with judges and opponents and even with your own mother a few times.

You remember being 15, face red and puffy from the tears you’d shed after she’d given you a strict scolding in the bathroom after a low scale contest. He had approached afterwards, ready to throw some quick jabs and comments your way before seeing the look on your face.

Instead he had struck a conversation with her, making funny faces at you over her turned shoulder as she spoke in her familiar harsh tone. You remember laughing into your glove and then watching him as he walked away, trying to catch sight of his mom.

He seemed to know how to handle strict parents so you were curious if he was raised similarly, but you were just left confused as he left the rink by himself.

“See that right there,” Your mother had spoken in a low voice, leaning towards you on the bench. “Some parents don’t even show up to these things, you should be more grateful.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about that now as you pulled into a parking lot, blue hour was settling in now as the afternoon bled on. The drive was just over an hour but it was getting darker sooner in the day as you went deeper into the winter.

He sucked in a breath and you felt him look over at you like he was waiting for you to say something about where you were. You didn’t but you turned your head to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow for an explanation.

It looked like he was considering giving you one for a second and then he changed his mind, taking his keys and getting out of the car. You watched him circle around to your side, opening your door for you and waiting for you to step out.

You silently followed him into the building, passing by a reception desk with a large man who gave Sunghoon a smile and a nod. You stared at his comfortable shoulders as he walked through the winding hallways with ease, clearly familiar with them.

The building resembled a hospital, dull colors and the buzzing of LED lights making your head spin slightly but the similarities between the people in the rooms you were passing told you what it truly was.

Sunghoon stopped infront of a room with a closed door and looked over at you, again like he was expecting you to speak. You didn’t and he eventually sighed and turned to open the door after a beat.

“Sunghoon? Is that you?” You stayed by the door, letting it close softly behind you, as he walked into the room and pulled back a privacy curtain that was hanging from a rod on the ceiling. You froze in place at the sight of the older woman in the bed, machines hooked around her with dull beeps and chimes.

“Yeah Nana.” His voice was lower than you’d heard it before and your eyes went to him as he softly lowered himself to sit on her bed. He glanced at you and waved a hand, signaling for you to come closer.

For a second you wanted to shake your head, to back track out of the room and wait for him down the hall. You didn’t understand why he would take you here, why he would show you this part of his life or what this meant.

But you let your feet fall forward and stepped into her view, breath catching when he outstretched a hand to grab your wrist and pull you closer at a faster pace. The feeling of his skin against yours combined with her questioning gaze made your face flush.

“Oh.” Her mouth parted in shock and you bowed your head slightly with a smile in greeting, not fully trusting yourself to speak. “You must be Y/N.”

Your eyes widened and you looked towards Sunghoon who had a similar expression, hanging his head so he didn’t have to meet your eye.

“You’ve heard about me?” You spoke softly, a louder volume feeling intrusive in the quiet room. The lights were dimmed low and the curtains were drawn giving the space a warm calm atmosphere.

“Oh he doesn’t shut up about you.” She was smiling at you and reaching out a shaky hand for you to take. You went to lift your left hand and felt the weight of Sunghoon’s on your wrist still, faltering and looking at him.

He looked embarrassed and confused, like he hadn’t even realized he was still holding onto you. He went to remove his grip but you twisted your hand and pulled his into yours, squeezing it tightly. You gave her your free hand instead.

It was a bit jarring to you and out of your element and you felt a bit of panic building in your throat. Being here was strange and Sunghoon being beside you was every stranger.

The weirdest part of all was the absolute care and adoration on this woman’s face, a strange you’d never seen before holding your hand with such delicacy. You felt yourself tear up slightly thinking how nice it must’ve been to grow up with such a person in your life.

You glanced at Sunghoon at this thought, you were still standing beside the bed holding both their hands while he sat and he was already looking at you. He seemed slightly taken back by your glossy eyes but he smiled at you warmly like he understood the reasoning.

And you were realizing now that he did.

It wasn’t the first time it had occurred to you that he was lonely but it was definitely the first time you really processed it. Maybe it was this new found care you had for him, this pull at your heart when you thought back to the boy with nobody to see his competition performances.

“Why are you back here sweetheart.” Sunghoon’s grandmas soft voice was speaking again and you glanced over at her, avoiding his eye contact when you felt his thumb rub the back of your hand.

You suddenly realized this was why he was late, obviously held up in a visit or maybe a medical emergency. Guilt hit you as you remembered your harsh tone and processed the fact he had driven the hour to practice and then turned around and brought you back here.

“I thought it was probably time the two of you met.” He lied naturally, squeezing your hand as if he was signaling for you to go along with it. You didn’t say anything, too busy wondering what all she knew about you, how long had you been a subject of conversation between the two.

You can’t imagine all the conversations were pleasant but her eyes held absolutely no sign of disdain or malice.

“You two must be so busy.” The soft croak in her voice made your stomach hurt and she shakily squeezed your hand causing you to do the same to Sunghoon’s in a ripple effect. You realized she was looking at you for a response.

“It isn’t too bad.” You assured her, smiling softly and you faintly heard Sunghoon scoff from beside you. You glared quickly at him and he lifted his free hand in mock surrender.

“I know it’s tiring.” His grandma was continuing and you looked back over at her, her eyebrows turning inwards. Her expression was shockingly similar to his and you let a heavy silence fall between the three of you.

You were once again wondering what type of things they talked about, if she was looking pained at the thought of her grandsons tiring lifestyle or if he had mentioned something about you and your own strict regimen.

It didn’t feel like the time to ask questions and you especially didn’t think you had the right to curiosity.

You’d shown Sunghoon a lot of coldness in the past few days despite his multiple attempts to get closer, and through that all he still had brought you to such an intimate personal place.

“I won’t keep you long.” Sunghoon and his grandma had been having a low voiced conversation while you were deep in thought but she was louder now, catching your attention and giving you a gentle knowing look.

You squeezed her hand one final time as a goodbye, not fully trusting yourself or your voice. Sunghoon was standing then, shoulder bumping against yours and you were overwhelming aware of the fact he was still holding your hand.

You welcomed it, feeling cold and bitter when the door opened to reveal the harsh white of the nursing homes lights that sharply contrasted Mrs. Parks yellow tinted room.

Without thinking you were pulling his arm closer, so your left hand was wrapped in his and your right arm was holding his sleeve against your chest, practically hugging his arm as you walked.

If the sudden closeness shocked him he didn’t show it, not making a move to remove you even as you passed back through the lobby and out the front doors.

It was darkening now despite it barely being 5pm, the short light of winter days making you colder than you’d ever been. The irony of the princess of the ice saying that didn’t miss you.

He paused when you reached his car and you felt him look at you. He was obviously trying to get a gauge of what you wanted to do considering you were glued to his side. You let him go reluctantly and walked swiftly to the passenger side before pulling yourself up into the car.

He was sitting down by the time you pulled your seatbelt on, starting the engine but not making any move to drive or fully situate himself. You imagined he was waiting for you to say something again and this time you didn’t want to disappoint him.

“She’s nice.” You felt pathetic as you spoke the words, nice not beginning to describe the situation or how you felt but you fell short like always when it came to affection.

Luckily he seemed to know exactly what you meant, something he did a lot you were realizing. He seemed to know when you were truly mad versus just tired and frustrated, he knew your distaste for coffee and he knew how to make you laugh despite your moms scolding.

You watched him as he nodded and tried to contain a fond smile for his grandma, biting his lip softly and forming a small dimple on his cheek.

“Do you come here a lot?” You were talking again and this seemed to take him off guard for just a second before he was neutralizing his expression like he was worried he’d scare you off.

“Everyday.” He was humming and leaning his head back against the seat, turning it lazily to look over at you. Your eyes followed up his jaw to his eyes just in time to see him quirk an eyebrow. “If I can.”

“And you talk about me?”

He snorted a laugh at your bluntness and the suggestion behind your words, eyes squeezing shut in a chuckle. You found yourself almost entranced studying his features.

“Not all the time princess.” The familiar pet name caused a similar reaction to normal, blood surging and stomach turning. You tried to ignore the fact it wasn’t driven by anger like it typically was, something much heavier replacing it now.

“But sometimes?” You pressed forward and leaned your elbow onto the middle console as the leather creaked under the weight. The noise caused his eyes to snap open and look at you, realizing you were closer now as you leaned in his space.

He hummed again and his eyes tracked down your face, similarly to the way you were studying him. “Yeah, sometimes.”

You didn’t say anything, a bit lost for words now that he was looking at you. It had never passed by you that he was handsome, probably the most striking person you’d ever seen in your life but without the usual cloud of anger fogging your mind, he was especially alluring.

“What do you say?” You voice came out as a whisper, almost falling forward from how far you were leaning on your elbows. He wasn’t moving in his seat, watching you unconsciously come closer with tired eyes.

He shrugged and lifted an eyebrow, hand falling forward on the middle console as he let a finger unravel and skim across your forearm.

“What do you say Sunghoon.” You ignored the goosebumps that his touch caused, questioning him further. You almost didn’t care about his answer anymore, you just wanted to hear him talk again.

His gaze hardened at the use of his first name, shifting in his seat but not turning his body to face yours. He kept his head turned towards you however, letting your breath fan his face every time you took a shaky exhale.

“Nothing bad.” He was speaking in a low tone, not fully paying attention to the conversation anymore.

“I want to hear though.”

“I wanna kiss you.” He tensed for a second as the words found their way out of his mouth without him meaning for them to. His shoulders relaxed seeing the way your mouth parted in shock.

You felt like a cold tidal wave had hit you as he spoke, face heating up and then more so when his eyes fell towards your open mouth.

A large part of you instinctively wanted to shut him down, wanted to lean back in your seat and tell him to start the car and prepare for the awkward trip back to the training center.

The other part of you liked the way he looked in a darkening car and less shallowly, liked how he smiled at you when you held his grandmas hand despite you letting out your frustration on him only hours earlier.

“That’s what you and your nana talk about?” You smiled at him as you spoke, a teasing tilt in your voice. Your smile only widened when he let out a breathy laugh and pressed his forehead against yours.

“If I kiss you right now will it ruin everything.” He was whispering and you were suddenly aware of how silent it was in the car, wishing for a low buzzing radio to fill the gaps.

“It might.” You whispered back to him and you felt him raise his eyebrows against yours causing your lips to jut out in a pout.

You felt his fingers dancing along your forearm again and you felt the sudden urge to hold his hand again.

“After we win the competition I’ll kiss you.” He sounded slightly pained in his words but you heard that familiar competitive fire that was typically directed towards you.

“Or you could do it now.” You felt slightly pathetic at the whine in your voice and he made it even worse by smiling at the sound of it.

“If I do it now we might not make it home.” He had a slight groan to his voice and your stomach flipped again.

You hastily shifted your arm off the middle console to fumble around for his hand, opting for wrapping your grip around his wrist again. He glanced down at it for a second before looking back up at you.

Slightly embarrassed, you felt your cheeks heating up at your actions but the warmth of his smooth skin was addicting now that you’d actually felt it outside of practice with skin tight clothes. Paired with his suggestive words and you were a goner when it came to common sense.

“How good is your self restraint?” You eventually opted for another teasing comment, not quite sure you were charming enough to directly respond to his comment without embarrassing yourself.

“When it comes to you?” His eyes flashed with something and you briefly wondered how long he’d been thinking about this or if it was as recent of a development as it was for you. “Terrible.”

“I want to… kiss you too.” You almost face palmed at your own words, how utterly stupid and childish they sounded. He had to have figured you didn’t know how to do this, he’d only spent your entire life seeing how busy you constantly were.

He smiled at you, a genuine toothy smile that made you want to scream in embarrassment. Luckily he didn’t seem to be making fun of you and was just genuinely amused by your awkward comment.

And he was. He liked seeing sides of you he’d only caught in passing, he liked that you were teasing back with him and not pulling away or snapping into fight mode at his presence. He especially liked the way your small hand was gripping tightly onto his wrist like you were so desperate to touch him, he wasn’t allowed to remove it for even a minute.

“We’ve gotta head back princess.” You could tell by the way he said that it was his final decision but you relished in the impatience in his eyes.

He leaned back in his seat again, leaving you leaned over the console still and short of breath before flopping back against the leather and waiting for him to pull out of the parking lot.

A few seconds of silence passed and you looked at him in question, raising an eyebrow at the fact he was looking at you in waiting. You followed the way his eyes looked down and saw his hand outstretched towards you.

You definitely were bright red now, looking away but taking his hand in yours as he finally started the drive back home.

—

He’d pulled up to the center after an hour of silence and shy hand squeezes. You were thankful for his silence, more than anything needing a bit of time to think about what had happened in the past few days.

It didn’t seem like it was weighing on him as much, he seemed nervous and excited but not as much thrown off as you felt. You wondered if there was a reasoning behind that or if you he was just really good at pretending to be casual.

You were terrible at being casual, further proved by the way you’re nearly choked as his hand found it’s way to the small of your back while leading you through the parking lot and into the building.

A week ago you would have thrown him off of you and said something about how you already knew the way in and didn’t need him to show you.

You thought about it for a second, just a small second, when you passed through the lobby and your coach came into view. She was practically blowing smoke as she caught sight of the two of you and started to shake her head in anger.

“Oh so now you show up.” She spat and you froze in place, step faltering at the aggressive way she was approaching. “You think you can just skip a whole entire afternoon of practice just because you’ve gotten some good scores in your career.”

Your frown was deepening and you felt the childish urge to curl in on yourself. You’d been in such a happiness cloud since this morning and you felt like you’d been pushed off a sharp cliff back into reality.

And she was absolutely right. It was stupid to skip practice even if it proved to be extremely important and beneficial to you.

“Watch what you say.” Sunghoon was spitting back at her and taking a small step forward, his hand sliding from your back to rest on your waist. Her eyes followed the movement but you couldn’t read her expression.

“Distracted.” She spat the single word, knowing the impact of it. Knowing that was the one thing you were not supposed to be, absolutely never allowed to be. “You’re fucking distracted.”

“And so what if she is.” You’d never heard Sunghoon so angry and you wanted to grab his shoulder and pull him back, wanted to calm him down so he didn’t get reprimanded too. “She’s spent everyday of her entire life focused on one thing, it was barely a few hours.”

“A few hours turns into more.” She was practically screeching now and a few other skaters were sending you apologetic glances and scurrying away. “This is a distraction”

You felt tears well up as she gestured between the two of you, a look of anger and disgust on her face.

“Aren’t you the one who paid for this.” You were confused what Sunghoon was referring to before you remembered the news article she had ordered. A surge of anger flashed through you at the reminder, the pure hypocrisy in what she was saying.

She could spin your love life however she pleased when it was beneficial to her and her career overview but forbids you from actually spending any time with anybody other than the ice.

You didn’t want to listen to her anymore, squeezing Sunghoon’s arm in an attempt to draw his attention away and calm him down. He didn’t look at you for a second, keeping his hard glare locked on her.

She wasn’t his coach so there wasn’t anything she could directly do to punish him. Nothing besides her ability to pull you from the pair skate or request a different partner for you, severely hurting your chances of winning and his yearly average.

“I told you about this.” Her voice was nearly a whisper with the way she hissed it through her clenched teeth. You thought she was talking to you for a second but she was holding Sunghoon’s gaze tightly.

Your hand fell from his arm in confusion, not understanding what she was referring to.

“I don’t give a fuck what you told me.” He spat back and took a small step back towards you again.

You took a step to the side before you even realized you were moving away from him, only processing it when he turned to look at you with a hurt expression. You felt guilty but something about the unknown of their words was leaving a heavy pit in your stomach.

“Y/N, we can talk about this later…. Alone.” Your coach was sighing and despite your anger with her you were glad she knew when to remove herself from a situation.

You held Sunghoon’s gaze as she walked off, presumably leaving the center. He spared a quick glance in her direction to make sure she was gone before looking back at you with that same expression.

“What’s wrong.” His voice was weak and confused, a sharp contrast to the way he was just throwing daggers at Suzy.

“What is she talking about?”

He seemed thrown off for a second, taking a second to think before understanding passed over his face. He took a step towards you, a hand jutted out in your direction. Your lips formed a frown but you took his hand and waited for him to speak.

“At the beginning of the season,” He cleared his throat and your stomach turned with nerves. Maybe she had instructed him to flirt with you, to attempt closeness with you for a better performance. “Before she officially picked me, she sat me down and told me I needed to keep my feelings out of it.”

“What feelings?” You shook your head in confusion, still not fully understanding. “Like with the way we fight? That doesn’t make any sense, wouldn’t she be happy to see us civil then?”

“It wasn’t about that.” He sighed and you watched his cheeks slowly redden as his eyes anxiously shifted to avoid looking at you. “She said she could tell I… was into you and she didn’t want me to become something you focused on outside of being your skate partner.”

You pondered the thought of what he was saying for a few beats of silence, almost feeling more confused at the explanation. If you were correct then he seemed to be insinuating existing feelings towards you, and enough for other people to notice.

“This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.” He sighed again and you felt his hand uncomfortably flex in yours. “All these years of working up the nerve I figured it would be some big romantic gesture.”

He was telling a joke but his voice lacked all humor, a hint of anger seeping in like his plans had been ruined.

“What the hell are you talking about Sunghoon.” Your voice was breathy and slightly irritated, sick of everybody’s vague wordings. “You sound like you’re inlove with me or something.”

Your scoff trailed off when he didn’t say anything. You had expected him to laugh at the thought, say a teasing remark or anything at all. He stopped looking around and watched you with a strange expression, like he was waiting for you to piece things together.

You felt your mouth parting softly and you slowly dropped his hands, he didn’t try to grab yours again and gave you your space as you tried to process what he was seemingly saying.

Park Sunghoon seemed to be insinuating, or atleast not denying the fact, that he was inlove with you and had been for more than a few years.

The thought of this made you feel sick and dizzy and you almost grabbed him for support as your knees weakened.

You weren’t quite sure if it was a good sick or a bad sick. On one hand you were excited, your newly discovered liking towards him and desperation to explore this new territory driving forward the giddiness you felt at the thought of him liking you back.

On the other hand you felt disgusted. Both at yourself for missing the signs, maybe spending years hurting him with your rude comments and refusal to learn anything about him. But also at him for not telling you or even hinting it from what you could see, half the fights you’d gotten in throughout the years had been started by him.

“Since when?” Your voice came out stern and his eyes creased at the way your face scrunched up in confusion and anger.

He was shaking his head and taking a step towards you, immediately backtracking when he realized he had done so. You were watching him and waiting for a response that you weren’t sure was coming considering he was starting to look pained at the thought of telling you.

“It doesn’t matter.” He proved you right as he continued to shake his head. “It’s not a distraction, you only knew because I fucked up the other day at practice.”

“That was a fuck up?” You scoffed at him, anger making you ignore the fact that he was right and you yourself had treated it like he made a mistake.

“It shouldn’t have happened like that. I waited all this time it was selfish for me to do it now, I don’t know why I did.” He was trying to explain himself but it was just confusing you further. “I just couldn’t help myself, I don’t know, being around you like this is making me feel crazy.”

He was talking like a lovesick teenager and your stomach was lurching at the fact that might just be the case.

You don’t understand how he hid it so well, or even when he had started to realize his feelings and plan to keep them a secret. Why would he put himself through such a thing for so long and then risk it all by accepting to be your partner.

A wave of guilt washed over you again as you raked through all your memories with Sunghoon with this new added knowledge. He must’ve been so hurt while pretending like he didn’t care that you were so mean to eachother.

“Please tell me since when.” You tried to soften your voice, your anger not even directed at him in the first place just the circumstance.

“I don’t know.” His voice broke when he said it like it was a question he’d asked himself a dozen times. He took a big breath and deflated. “Probably since the first time I saw you with your little pink skates, who knows.”

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds and were suddenly hyper aware that you were having this conversation in the middle of the lobby, tears brewing in your eyes as your hands started to shake.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Sunghoon’s voice was desperate and earnest, like he felt guilty for falling inlove with you which made you feel ten times worse about the whole situation.

“Will you take me home?” You looked up at him with wet eyelashes just in time to see shock pass over his face. He clearly wasn’t expecting such a casual conversation change, especially one that entailed you spending more time alone together today.

Still, he softened as he looked at you and nodded his head slowly like he was waiting for you to change your mind. You both stood still even after his agreement, in a slight daze from the intense emotions you’d been feeling. He nodded again, more to himself this time, and you felt his hand against the small of your back starting to lead you back outside.

Neither of you spoke when you felt the cold air outside and still when he opened the passenger door for you and helped you climb into seat. He watched you for a second before closing the door and circling the car to get into his own spot.

It felt dramatically different in the space than it had only a few hours before, the giggly excited tension replaced with silence and heavy air. You were so out of it you didn’t even notice he didn’t ask for directions to your apartment.

When you realized you’d been driving for a few minutes you were confused, wondering when he had learned the way to your place, before realizing you weren’t heading in the direction you’d normally come from.

You immediately figured he was taking you to his house instead and for some reason you didn’t want to object. Despite being confused and angry and feeling slightly betrayed at this kept secret, you were comfortable and familiar in his presence and almost felt addicted to being around him.

Besides you know that there was nothing this warm and caring waiting for you back home. If your mother was there at all, she was bound to throw a massive fit over you missing practice.

It was worrying to you that you couldn’t find a single piece of care inside of you about missing practice. If anything, your chest was light and airy underneath all the pain and you weren’t sure it’d ever felt this stress free in your life.

You were slowly understanding why you were never given a break, why a day off was unacceptable. Maybe they were fearful you’d fully realize how much better you’d feel without this force of pressure and expectation.

Sunghoon wasn’t the reason you were distracted, at least not from the competition, and once you were able to speak again you wanted him to understand that.

Eventually you were pulling up to an apartment building, similar to yours but slightly on the other side of town. Sunghoon was looking over at you again, waiting for a sign you were ready to get out of the car.

You opened your own door and briefly saw him nod from the corner of your eye, unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping outside back into the bitter air.

You awkwardly followed behind him as he unlocked the main set of doors with a keycard, walking down a long plain hallway until he stopped at a door with a small penguin welcome mat infront of it. He looked at it and then back at you and he seemed pleased at the amusement in your eyes.

When he unlocked the door you were suddenly hit with the fact you were about to see where he lived and quickly wondered who he lived with. You weren’t sure you were ready to hold an awkward conversation with his parents about why you were going in their sons room.

You realized immediately upon walking in, however, that that was not the case at all. The apartment was comfortable but small, far too small to house a family even if he had no siblings. You watched him kick his shoes off into a slot in the empty rack and hang his keys up on the singular hook.

He started down the entrance hallway before stopping when he realized you weren’t following behind him. He looked over his shoulder at you and tensed up at the sad expression on your face.

“What?” The tone of his voice told you that he already knew what you were thinking without you having to say it.

“I didn’t know you lived alone.” You tried to keep the pity out of your words, a casual tone coming off awkward and deliberate.

He scoffed at your attempt and for a moment you were reminded of who exactly you were standing here with, a glimpse of the familiar rival you were more used to startling you slightly.

He didn’t say anything in response, just waving a hand to signal for you to move into the main living space. You followed quickly after removing your shoes, taking in the larger room with widened eyes.

Something about it was very Sunghoon, despite being plain and quiet. The yellow toned lights and CD’s on the coffee table catching your attention as you shuffled into the warm room.

“You seemed out of it.” He was starting from behind you. He didn’t sound close but a chill ran through you at the thought of him watching you. “I didn’t feel right bringing you home alone, I hope that’s okay.”

You turned to look at him and your heart tugged at his sad tired expression. He was looking at you intensely, you figured it must be weird to see you in such a familiar setting. You jutted a hand out in his direction and he looked down at it with surprise.

“I didn’t want to go home.” Your voice was low and soft, the silence of the room outside of the heater running was reminding you of his grandma’s and it felt wrong to have a higher volume.

His head cocked slightly but he took your hand in his, letting out a shaky breath when you squeezed it tightly and pulled on his hand so he’d come closer to you. He was standing far away so your arms were stuck straight out, like he wasn’t sure he was actually allowed to touch you.

You tugged him again and he stumbled closer to you, his big hand instinctively coming to rest on your waist and then falling again in a haste. You frowned at his reaction and then realized he must be feeling confused.

“What are you thinking about?” You kept your voice quiet and soft and he looked down at you with that same pained expression. You let go of his hand and put both of yours flat on his chest, feeling the way his heart beat raced and hiccuped.

You were once again impressed by his ability to mask how he felt, if you weren’t looking at him so intensely or touching him, you’d have no idea he was feeling this upset.

“I don’t know.” He whispered and he sounded honest. His hand hesitatingly went back to your waist, feeling awkward at the way his arms dangled at his sides while you touched him.

“I want to be here.” You felt the sudden urge to reassure him on this despite not being sure if that’s what was bothering him or just the situation in general.

“For how long?” Frustration laced his words and you didn’t understand for a few seconds. First you assumed he meant how long you wanted to stay but you quickly realized he was asking how long you’ve wanted to be around him.

You felt guilt creep up considering you weren’t sure what answer to give him because you weren’t even sure yourself when things had changed for you. You don’t think it was a sudden dramatic realization after he tried to flirt with you like you originally thought.

Thinking back on your life now, Sunghoon and this rivalry has been the most consistent thing you’ve ever known. You’d search for him at competitions and you’d spend weekends thinking about what insults to throw at him next time you saw him.

This could’ve been a childish fued, maybe even bordering on actual dislike sometimes, if it wasn’t for everything else.

You were no stranger to finding him attractive, bitterly acknowledging it every time you saw him. You remember when you were entering your teens and he was shooting up in height and his features were sharpening, scrolling his instagram at the time and scowling at photos of him surrounded by similarly attractive people.

You thought back to staring at his hands in the diner and the fondness you felt watching him juggle an armful of forbidden snacks in that 7/11. A fondness that left you so dazed you had completely forgotten to act as an enemy and rat him out to the coaches.

As hard as it was to admit, even to yourself, you weren’t ice skating because it was your passion. It didn’t get you out of bed in the morning or light a fire under your skin in excitement. You did it because it was what people wanted for you and because you liked to win, you liked how people talked about you when you won.

Sunghoon was a breath of fresh air from the pressure, he never cared if you won or lost, in fact he didn’t want you winning half the time.

He didn’t talk to you like you were a project, a robot prodigy who didn’t have room for love or care and he didn’t walk on eggshells around you like you were some royal princess needing only the best treatment.

You wouldn’t sit here and tell Sunghoon you knew how he’s felt all these years, you wouldn’t lie and say you’d been pining over him too and it has always been set in stone for you but a large part of you feels like maybe you knew it all along.

“I can’t say.” You answered honestly even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “But I am here now Sunghoon.”

You felt his hands tensing against your sides, instinctively squeezing like he was worried you’d disappear now. You wanted to ask him the things you should have years ago, you wanted to know why he lived alone and how long he’s come back to this empty room after hours of hard practice.

You felt guilty again for missing the signs. His familiarity at a random diner, clearly frequently there alone. Always being at the rink at random times like nobody was expecting him home or worried he was overworking himself.

Another part of you was relieved now, holding this knowledge tightly with the determination to change this and be there for him regardless if you yourself were considering not returning to the ice.

“I should’ve told you sooner.” He was saying and shaking his head. It was strange seeing him so self deprecating.

“You told me now.” You affirmed and one of your hands slid up his chest to hold his face, making him look at you and see the sincerity in your eyes. “I know now and I didn’t go anywhere.”

He nodded and you were worried he was going to cry, eyes shaking as he looked down at you and leaned into your touch against his cheek.

So you did the one thing you could think of, the thing you were practically craving only a few hours earlier, and you surged forward on your toes to kiss him.

He was taken back by your sudden proximity, tensing up when he felt your lips against his and then more so when you rocked back onto your flat feet and awkwardly waited for him to say something.

His mouth parted a few times like he was going to speak but after a second or two passed his eyes were hardening with that familiar determination and he was kissing you.

Kissing you with a desperation of somebody who’d been thinking about it for a long time, hands sliding behind your back to pull you closer and tighter against him.

You smiled against him, his mouth sliding against yours as he kissed you deeper. Your hand that was on his face went to his hair and you felt a shudder run through him at the feeling.

He pulled back to look at you, pressing his forehead against yours like he did in the car and breathing heavily as he looked down at you.

“I love you.” He rushed it out like it was his only chance to say it and then immediately shut his eyes tight like he was embarrassed. “You don’t need to say anything back I just needed to finally say it out loud to someone other than my grandma.”

“Are we going to talk about your grandma everytime you’re about to kiss me?” You laughed and he smiled at you, squeezing your front against him.

“No definitely not.” And he kissed you again.

——

The next week was probably the most stressful of your entire life, which was pretty impressive considering how your childhood and early adult years were basically one big intense competition.

Having to tell not only your coach for the last decade that you were quitting, but also your mother, was probably scarier than any stunt you could attempt.

Coach Suzy, as it turns out, seemed to be expecting it and told you that she was planning to retire once this year’s competitions were over. She apologized for being so harsh on you at times and especially for losing her temper due to her own stress and insecurities.

You forgave her and wrapped her in a tight hug but you could feel Sunghoon glaring at her from behind your back.

Sunghoon had been beyond helpful during the process, both legitimately with the paper work it required and removing yourself from data and emotionally. It wasn’t easy to admit to yourself you were done doing the only thing you’d ever been good at.

“You’re good at lots of things.” He was telling you for probably the tenth time this week. You were laying in his bed, hand in his as he played with your fingers.

You’ve learned a lot about him with all the time you’ve been spending, not everything of course but every new bit of information was exciting to you. You liked seeing him in different moods and settings, this one being your favorite.

You liked him best like this, his now dark hair messily splayed against his pillow, still smelling like sleep and the coffee on his bedside table. You liked the way his fingers sleepily played with the shirt you were wearing, which was of course his, and tugged on it.

“Yeah but I don’t know what.” You were sighing and rolling onto your stomach so you could look at him directly

He was smiling at you with a lazy toothy grin, sitting up just a little against the headboard to be able to see your face better. He leaned his head back and shrugged.

“You never had a chance to be good at something else, it doesn’t mean you’re not princess.” You flushed at his casual words and he noticed, leaning down to kiss your head and laugh. “I knew you liked that.”

“Shut up.” You were grumbling and resting your chin on his chest once he sat back again. “Maybe I did a little but I almost gagged the first time it made me blush.”

He was letting out a throaty laugh and you felt your face vibrate as his chest moved making you laugh quietly with him. He looked pretty like this and you liked the way his dark hair looked, having gone so long without seeing it.

Your tired laughs naturally died down and you turned your head so your cheek was on his chest instead, feeling him breathe and listening to his heart pick up in speed every so often.

“Will you come with when I talk to my mom?” You weren’t embarrassed at the childish hint in your voice, knowing he’d understand why this was way scarier than the other parts.

“Anything for you.” He was still smiling at you but he sounded serious, hand in your hair now as he played with it and kept it out of your face.

It made your stomach flip when he said it because you knew he meant it. He’d been beyond caring and helpful even letting you stay with him, doing quick stops at your apartment after you’d made sure your moms car wasn’t around so you could get some clothes and necessities.

He didn’t seem to mind the company at all, always smiling at you in the mornings and when he came home from the rink to the sight of you on his couch watching a movie or doing the dishes in the kitchen.

He’d even taken you to see his grandma a few more times. He really did mean it when he said he went every day, only missing a single night when it all hit you and you couldn’t stop crying. You felt awful the next morning he’d stay with you and begged him to apologize to her for you when he asked you to come along.

She had a soft knowing smile when you walked in behind him, patting her bed for you to sit and giving you advice on what to say to your mother.

“She’s your mother honey, she’ll love you no matter what you choose to do.” She had whispered to you and you felt your heart crack with the knowledge that wasn’t quite true.

“Her moms a lot like dad.” Sunghoon was mumbling from behind you, he was standing with his hands on your shoulder as you sat on the bed. You weren’t quite sure what that referred to but his grandmas mouth parted in understanding.

“Then there’s nothing you can do.” Her sharp flip in opinion made you glance back at Sunghoon. He gave you a look like he would explain later and you hesitantly looked away. “You can’t live for her, there’s no right there. You need to live for yourself and accept that relationship as a loss.”

You were replaying her words in your mind on a loop as you stood outside your door, suddenly feeling like a stranger who needed to knock before entering. It was never homely but this was the first time you truly realized how cold it felt here.

You knew Sunghoon was right behind you, giving you some space incase you were overwhelmed or felt like you needed to change your mind, but you reached your hand back for confirmation and took a deep breath when you felt his warm hand in yours.

Waiting with baited breath, your knuckles stung from the knocks against the door. You were bouncing your foot anxiously and counting each second before she opened the door.

For just a split second you saw shock and relief pass over her face before it was twisting up in anger and disgust.

“How dare you come here?” She was spitting towards you and you wanted to flinch back away from her, holding your resolve and letting her finish her comments. “And with him of all people.”

When she turned her murderous gaze towards Sunghoon, something was set off in you and you stepped to the side to block him from her view with a glare. She seemed taken back by this, used to you being paralyzed by guilt and fear.

“If you’re here to apologize I don’t want to hear it.” She hissed at you after the shock passed, her anger only building now at your defiance.

“I have nothing to apologize for.” You spat back at her, stuttering slightly with anxiousness. You felt Sunghoon squeeze your hand in his and take a step closer to you and you took a deep calming breath before continuing with a stronger tone. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m here to get my stuff and then we won’t have to see each other again.”

You weren’t sure where this came from, not having made any plans with Sunghoon to stay with him longer. A wave of insecurity hit you at the idea you were overstaying your welcome and he was going to deny you, leaving you with no choice but to find somewhere else to stay with. You had some distant family but you can’t imagine they’d be too ecstatic about taking on an adult with no job.

“And where on earth are you planning to go.” Your mother did what she did best and caught sight of your insecurity, magnifying it with a knowing sneer. “Nobody will want you, ‘ex prodigy’ won’t get you in anywhere.”

“She’s staying with me.” Sunghoon’s voice came from over your shoulder and you felt his front press against you, his hand on your shoulder to steady you. He was having a hard time seeing you like this, anger surging through him as he watched you go weak from fear.

“I want her and she can stay for as long as she needs to. We are just here to get her stuff, like she’s already told you.” His voice was hard and dark, your moms eyes flashing up at him with angry eyes as he spoke so firmly.

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you almost thought she’d turn you away and leave you with absolutely nothing to your name. Eventually, however, she took a step to the side of the doorway and waved the two of you in.

Sunghoon gave you a loaded glance once you were in your living room, you nodded at him and he made his way down the hall to your room while you stayed back with your mother.

“I see he knows his way around.” She scoffed at you and glared at his back as he walked away.

“It’s my house too.” You muttered back at her. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“He ruined you.” She barely let you finish your sentence before she was snapping at you, a finger being raised and pointed in your face. “This is all his fault.”

“This is your fault.” You felt tears well up in your eyes again and shook your head. “If you stopped being a coach and tried being my mother for just one second you would’ve realized that before it was too late.”

“You think he’ll keep you around?” She was twisting her face with a nasty sneer as she took another step towards you. “Regardless how I feel about him, that boy is talented. You think he’ll want you even when he’s an Olympic winner and you’re working a part time job?”

You knew she was wrong, that everything she was saying was so out of Sunghoon’s character and would disgust him just at the thought. But her ability to look into the deepest part of you and see your darkest fears caused you to tense up.

“He loves me.” Was all you could bring yourself to say, willingly him to hurry up and come back out here so the two of you could leave already.

“Yeah, love.” She laughed at the word like the idea of anybody loving you was ridiculous. “You don’t think I loved you? You think this was all for me… that I wanted to be a mean coach.”

She didn’t seem to notice her own contradictions, calling herself your coach right after saying she had loved you. She was getting angry again, wanting to continue this argument and prove you wrong. You were exhausted of it, knowing what Sunghoon’s grandma said was completely right.

“You didn’t love me.” Your voice was firm and certain, leaving no room for denial. “But not because of anything I did wrong.”

You saw Sunghoon over her shoulder, waiting in the hallway with a few boxes and a backpack over his shoulder. He was trying not to listen in on your conversation but also seemingly ready to step in.

He caught your eye and you smiled at him, despite your teary eyes, he could tell you felt relieved and that you were ready to move on from this part of your life. There was no right path here, and in skating, and that was okay.

Your mother didn’t say anything else, not even when he came over to you or when you held the door for him so he didn’t drop any of your boxes. She didn’t close the door after you’d left and you didn’t look back at her as she watched you get in his car and drive away from the only home you’d known.

“I don’t actually have to stay with you if it’s not okay.” You were whispering while he drove. “Thank you for saying it though, saved me from a lot of embarrassment.”

He looked over at you like you’d gone crazy, frowning and shaking his head. He was taking a hand off the wheel and grabbing your still shaky one that was resting on your knee.

“Of course you can stay with me princess.” His voice was serious but warm and you squeezed his hand in yours, suddenly overwhelmed with care and affection.

Maybe not the only home.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 13: Size Difference

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7129

Warnings: Afab!/reader, size difference, noncon, abduction, bathing, aphrodisiacs, drugging, bareback, stomach bulge, gendered terms 

A/N: okay, look … I’ve been deeply in love with the Daythunder Eremites since we got our first glimpse of them right before 3.0 dropped. Did I lose the plot a little bit on this one? Maybe. But I’m actually obsessed with this NPC. I even went around and marked their locations on my map with the little meat pin. ✋😭 I quite literally ran OUT of available pins because of it. Not one single person better question why I picked him for this prompt instead of Enjou (I was extremely tempted tho, trust and believe that xmdkxk)

⭐

It was quickly becoming apparent that you were in a bit over your head with this commission. Between the wailing researchers on the ground, the frightened Sumpter Beast making a lumbering escape for the near distant tree line, the attacking Eremites and the damaged cart that had inexplicably caught fire at some point, the situation was clearly spiraling far out of your control.  

Gripping your sword so hard it hurts, you try to take stock of what was happening and regroup. There wasn’t enough time to fully process it though. The small stretch of road — if you could even call it that — had devolved into complete and utter chaos in the blink of an eye, and you have to lurch to avoid the incoming swing of a huge battle ax before you can make any sense of it. But if there was one thing you knew, intrinsically, it was that there were too many of them for you to take on alone. It was too much for a single adventurer no matter how talented or skilled you may have been. 

You dance back, not even daring to breathe as you agily avoid the weapon swinging at you with so much force you not only hear the violent displacement of air but you can even feel it too. This was incredibly dangerous. One hit from that ax would shatter bones, possibly even crush organs, and you’d likely be dead before the day was through. You had to get away but — pivoting your body, you steal a split second glance at the helpless researchers. They were cowering at the feet of a girl, no older than yourself, who was holding them at blade point while the other Eremites quickly worked to unload the cargo before it all went up in smoke with the burning cart. You needed to get away but so did they. 

Clenching your teeth, you duck to avoid the next swing and dive under that huge, muscular arm to hit the dirt. You feel him shift behind you, alter the momentum and start to bring the heavy ax down right on top of you. Bracing for the destructive impact, you throw yourself forward into a stiff roll seconds before the ground erupts in a spray of dirt and grass that showers you in grime even when you skid to a halt some few feet away. Your heart feels like it’s going to slam right out of your chest as you frantically stumble to your feet on jelly filled legs, almost dropping your sword in your haste. 

You couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to avoid that hit … 

With a choked, gasping wheeze, you force yourself into a dead sprint, ignoring the thrumming terror that threatens to debilitate you as you dart across the road right towards the Eremite girl. You may not have been able to save their precious research but you could still save them! 

“Run!” You scream, making her turn. It was too late though. 

Leaning your shoulder into it, you slam into her so hard both of you go flying through the air to hit the ground in a heap. It knocks the air out of you (and her, by the sound of it) but you quickly roll away and struggle to your feet once again. There’s so much adrenaline pumping through your system you hardly even feel yourself moving, numb to everything going on around you, but you’re still distantly aware of the resulting scramble when the two researchers jump up to make a break for it. Good. At least now you could worry about yourself. 

But you don’t quite make it that far. 

The huge man with the ax is suddenly right on top of you — you hadn’t even seen him coming! Your heartbeat stutters a surprised beat and you just barely get your sword up in time to block his next swing. Unfortunately the force of it knocks your blade from your screaming hands, sending it pinwheeling up and away at such a high arc you could never hope to snag it and he doesn’t stop long enough to let you watch it fall back to the earth. 

One second you’re stumbling from the impact. The next he’s snatching a fistful of your hair to yank you towards him, and you collapse at his feet on your knees. Sharp, stabbing splinters of pain shoot through your body but it’s quickly overshadowed by the agony of him using his hold on your hair to pull you upright, damn near taking you right off the ground. Seething, you force your eyes open to glare daggers at him when he bends close and puts his face inches from yours in a clear, obvious display of intimidation. 

“That was a stupid thing to do.” 

“I’ll kill her!” The Eremite girl shrieks, scrabbling to get up. “I’ll skin her alive and put her head on a spike!” 

You go stockstill, lungs constricting painfully when you feel her reach for you. But, to your squawking surprise, the huge man physically drags you away from her and closer to himself like you were little more than a toy they were fighting over. 

“Wait, Siri. Not yet.” He warns, the low growl in his voice growing stronger, and you sway in his hold with a suffocating feeling of dread. What a terrible situation to find yourself in. “Let me have this one. You can play with her when I’m done.” 

“Do you really think I want your leftovers?” She snaps, both of them completely ignoring the way you wheeze between them. “She shoved me onto the ground, Aziz! She’ll be lucky if that’s all I do! I’m going to pluck out her eyes and - -“ 

“Enough, you two!” A third Eremite barks over. Still panting raggedly, you carefully turn your head even when it tugs at your hair to find another towering man standing some few feet away with one of the salvaged crates clutched against his chest. Idly, you realize the cart was almost completely engulfed in flames now and rapidly turning to smoldered ash. The guild was going to get such an earful from you if you made it out of this alive. 

“But - -“

“I don’t want to hear it!” The other man cuts her off again. “We need to get this stuff out of here. Now! Those two researchers escaped so we need to be long gone before they send in backup. Bring the adventurer if you want, I don’t care. Just get your asses in gear.” 

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Siri shoots you a quick look that is no less chilling behind the red cloth hiding her eyes before stiffly pushing into motion. You watch her walk away to join the others, your stomach cramping with nerves, and it only gets worse when Aziz tugs on your hair to bring your attention back up to him again. 

“Looks like you got lucky today. In more ways than one, I’d say.” Pausing, he puts his head to one side to send the braid over his temple swinging, and you can’t quite shake the impression of being a helpless rabbit caught under a tiger's paw. He was so massive, and the way he looks at you ... “I admit, your swordsmanship was pretty good. You’ve got good instincts even if you don’t have the strength to back it up. Tell me, little adventurer. Where do you hail from?” 

You draw a steadying breath and try not to regurgitate everything that was in your stomach right down to the bile. “Mondstadt. I’m originally from Mond.” 

“I see. You’re a far way from home then. I hope no one there is going to miss you too much.” 

~*~

They lead you into a camp, blindfolded and with your wrists bound behind your back, but you recognize the distinct sounds of daily life for what they are immediately. You can hear children shrieking and laughing, weaving in and out of your peripheral senses in what could only be play. There were women murmuring nearby, speaking so low you couldn’t make out what they were saying when the grizzled voices of older men seemed to drown them out. You can just make out what you think must be a dog snuffling around your ankles in a quick burst of sound before darting away when they drag you further in and, somewhere, a goat bleats. 

There’s sand under your feet now so you knew you were no longer in the lush rainforests of Sumeru but, rather, the desert. You’d never gone this far west before, precisely because of the grip the Eremites had on the area. Having heard plenty of stories about just how cutthroat they could be in the harsh environment they called home, you had wanted to avoid crossing paths with them if at all possible but a lot of good that had done you. 

The acrid, dry air seems to rob you of the ability to breathe and you stumble, gasping against the grit and oppressive heat, when Aziz shoves you through what must be a doorway. Abruptly you’re enshrouded in a blanket of cool that is so noticeably different from the temperature outside it actually makes you shiver at the sudden change. He doesn’t give you a chance to truly appreciate it or sigh out in relief though, simply pulling you by the arm even when you nearly trip over your own aching feet. 

His hand feels impossibly huge on your neck when he finally palms the back of it and shoves you down to sit on the floor, forcing your legs to splay under you at an awkward angle. Panting, you cautiously shift to settle on your butt even as he reaches up to loosen the knot he’d tied behind your head. It falls away with a quiet slither of fabric, and you blink into the gloom of what you quickly realize is a tent. His tent? You couldn’t be sure, and you weren’t entirely certain you wanted to know. 

“You don’t have to do this …” You whisper into the stillness, and he just scoffs. 

“You don’t even know what it is I’m going to do yet. Be patient, little adventurer from Mondstadt. You might like it.” 

You very much doubted that, but hold your tongue on the slim hope that compliance might see you through this in one piece. Even if your arms hadn’t been secured behind your back it was obvious you still wouldn’t have been much of a match against someone like him. He’d already thoroughly cemented that back in the forest. Because not only was Aziz incredibly tall, he was also filled out and thick with heavy muscle mass. Just one of his biceps looked like it was greater in width than your thigh and you fully believed he could crush you like a grape if he so chose. With no other option available, you grudgingly acquiesce when he turns you around to face him. 

He was still wearing his own blindfold, that rich red brocade hiding his eyes, but you recognized the way he looked at you even without being able to see them. You’re not entirely sure how he — or any of the Eremites — got around as well as they did without the use of their sight, and a tremor tears through you when he sedately reaches out to touch the side of your face. Not so much as a split second falter or other sign of hesitation. It was like he knew exactly where you were, like he could see through the material, and a fresh curling tendril of unease snakes through you at the thought of his people having some divinely appointed sixth sense. Was that why their strongest warriors covered their faces? 

“You’re filthy.” He suddenly announces, and you know it’s not just the grit of dirt and sand he’s talking about. You were thoroughly drenched in sweat from the trek out here as much as your earlier standoff with him, and it was now quickly cooling to settle a chill over your sore body. 

Jaw clenching, you turn your face from him. “Is it really any wonder? You almost took my head off back there.” 

Chuckling softly, Aziz drops his hand to rest on his bent knee where he’s knelt in front of you. “Sorry about that. If it counts for anything, Siri almost took it too.” 

You send him a slow, wary look. Was that really supposed to make you feel any better? 

He just offers up an indifferent shrug of his broad shoulders though, and then moves to straighten up. Watching him walk over to a big clay pot standing sentry a few paces away, you momentarily toy with the notion of running while his back was turned but immediately quash the thought. The grim reality of the situation was not lost on you. Not only did you have no idea where you were and even less of an idea how to get back, you also had no working knowledge of how to survive in the desert. Even if you could get past him and then all the other Eremites outside, escape the camp, what would you do then? No food, no water, not even any supplies or extra clothes to keep you warm when night inevitably fell. You’d be a sitting duck for any hungry predators out on the prowl if hypothermia didn’t catch up to you first. You’d heard how cold it gets after the sun sets out here, and you weren’t sure if you were brave enough to take the chance …

It doesn’t matter either way. Before you can even consider changing your mind Aziz returns with a shallow bowl and a rag which you regard suspiciously when he sets it aside. You could guess where this was going, but it still shocks you a great deal that he then reaches for the front of your clothes like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing, and without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it either.  

“Wait - -“

“Hush, adventurer. I won’t hurt you so long as you play nice and remember not to bite the hand keeping you alive.” 

Swallowing hard, you numbly watch him take the front of your guild uniform in hand and casually pop it open with a sedate tug that sends buttons flying in either direction. They fall near silent across the worn tarp that serves as the floor of the tent, and you draw a slow, shuddering breath. Try not to linger on the way his heavy knuckles brush against your chest while he pulls the shirt open to expose the silk chemise underneath. Distantly, you start to wonder if he’ll untie your hands just to get you undressed, thinking you might have a chance to flee after all — but then he rips at the fabric, giving you a sudden jerk at the force, and your mouth drops open in shock when it simply tears from you in a ragged panel. 

Realizing he’s just going to peel it off you in pieces, you purse your lips into a tight line to stop yourself from crying out as he shreds your blouse to tatters and ribbons that fall to the floor around you in a pathetic heap. He does the same with the chemise and then your long skirt, pausing only long enough to yank away your boots, hose and, finally, your bloomers. You don’t give up the last without a fight but he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge all your squirming and twisting while he easily manhandles you to relieve you of your final dignity some moments later. 

Seething, you primly squeeze your legs together to hide your most intimate spot from him but it barely gives Aziz pause. One of those massive hands reaches out to clamp around your ankle and he none too gently drags you across the floor to leave you laid out on your back. Ignoring your incensed hissing, he shifts and settles into a cross legged position in front of you before reaching calmly for the bowl. 

“You remind me of a cat, you know that?” He murmurs, dipping the rag into the water to soak it through as you struggle back up into a sitting position.

“One of the Rishboland Tigers, I hope.” 

He outright laughs. “No. You are like a very small, very feisty kitten that hasn’t yet learned her place in this world.” 

You stiffen at that, narrowing your eyes at him, but he pays it little mind. Squeezing out the rag of excess water, he stretches his hand out towards your face again and you stubbornly try to crane your neck to escape it. Aziz just follows you though, and you give a startled little squawk when he finally presses the cool cloth into your cheek. 

“That’s cold!” 

Softly shushing you, he drags the rag over your skin to wipe away all the sweat, dirt and grime coating your face. Much to your grudging dismay you quickly find that it actually felt rather nice and he was not near as violent or brutish about it as his appearance would have suggested he’d be. It’s almost gentle, in fact, and you slowly find yourself relaxing into it with a stilted sigh. You would be glad to be clean again, even if you had to endure the humiliation of being washed like a child to achieve it. 

Cautiously roving your eyes up when he starts to work his way down your neck, you take a moment to really study him. You couldn’t say for sure if he was looking back at you or if the brunt of his attention was focused on the task at hand, but you try not to let that uncertainty dissuade you. After all, if he was bold enough to undress you like this then surely he could handle a bit of staring. And you think, with no shortage of surprise, that he was probably handsome under that mask. His jaw was smooth and well defined, housing a pair of full, kissable lips that purse slightly when he scrubs at a splotch of dirt on your throat. You still didn’t like him very much after he’d almost smashed you to bits with his giant ax and then kidnapped you, spirited away into the inhospitable desert, but you couldn’t exactly deny what was in front of you. 

Maybe if you’d met under (vastly) different circumstances … 

“Do you like what you see?” 

You sniff and look away to take in the rest of the tent. “Hardly.” 

Aziz chuckles again while he rinses out the rag in the dish before bringing it back to your skin once again. “Such a grumpy little adventurer … what are you doing so far away from home? I’ve heard Mondstadt is very different from Sumeru.” 

“It is,” You relent, hating yourself for leaning into his touch when he caresses over a throbbing spot on your shoulder. You must have banged it on the ground rolling around earlier, or maybe it was from plowing into Siri. “We don’t have any deserts or great big forests. Well … none like what Sumeru has, anyway. No tigers to worry about, either. All we’ve got are wolves, but they don’t usually attack humans.” 

He hums a quiet sound of acknowledgement, taking a moment to massage into the aching muscle under his heavy fingers when he sees the pinch in your expression. “You miss it.” 

It’s a statement, not a question, and you sigh. “Considering where I’m at right now, yeah. It’s kind of hard not to.” 

“Grumpy.” 

You try not to scowl at that, knowing it wouldn’t get you anywhere even if you kicked up a fit and fought him tooth and nail. At least he was being nice about it. That was one good thing in all this, you think — only to suck in a quick breath as he drags his hand lower to wipe your chest clean. You know it’s coming but it still pulls a quiet whimper out of you when the rag passes over your breast, catching at the nipple to send a static jolt through your body. Shirking, you try to twist away from him but it’s useless with your hands tied behind your back and he just follows you. The way he kneads and squeezes at the swell of flesh under the guise of cleaning you up doesn’t escape your notice, and neither does your reaction to it. But it horrifies you more than anything else and, steadying yourself, you try to rein it in. If ever there was a worse time for your baser urges to start taking over, this would have been it. 

But rather than lingering, Aziz soon switches to the other side which he gives the same level of patient attention to. A handful of groping squeezes, a brief pinch to the nipple and then he’s moving on again. Your breathing starts to pick up as he works his way lower, swiping the rag under your breasts to lift and nudge them against his thick knuckles. His skin is rough and calloused on yours wherever it touches, and you hate the way it makes you feel. Hot and flushed, and just ever so slightly sensitized in his wake. A shudder tears down your spine when he starts running the wet cloth over your stomach. 

“W - wait —“ 

He doesn’t wait. Doesn’t even so much as pause, and you try very hard not to yelp when he rather boldly swipes his hand from your bellybutton straight into the soft cradle of your thighs. Eyes widening in mute horror, you rock back and try to squeeze your legs shut to no avail. He just leans forward, invading your space again as his unoccupied hand comes up to wrap around the nape of your neck. You can’t quite believe it when he yanks you backwards and eases you onto the floor with perfect control that stops you from slamming your head back. It would have been quite impressive if only your heart didn’t feel like it was going to slam right through your ribcage and, mewling a desperate, frazzled noise, you make a last ditch effort to twist away. But he just holds you in place, keeping you pinned by the neck, while he bullies your thighs apart with the other hand. 

A faltering, highly embarrassing sound bursts out of you when the damp rag presses firm against your cunt at last. He pauses there a moment to squeeze at you through the cloth, almost idly grinding his palm down and making you twitch, before finally dragging it further down to run along the slit in your body. Left wheezing in the aftermath, you just lay there and try to wrap your head around this confusing turn of events. You couldn’t make sense of it. Although you’d expected it on some level, wasn’t this still a little … strange? 

The way he cleans you is almost so formal it seems to border on ritualistic. Like he was performing some kind of ceremony or rite. The horrifying thought that perhaps he was preparing you for sacrifice crosses your mind and you can’t quite stop from cowering when he pushes up to kneel on his knees beside you. But, to your squawking surprise, all he does is grab hold of your ankle again and uses it to pull you over onto your stomach like you were little more than an uncooperative toddler. 

“H - hey! I’m not a child you know!” 

“A great relief, I assure you.” 

Flushing red hot, you force yourself to grow still and just lay there while he wipes across your back and arms, your sides, running down to your ass and then lower still to get the backs of your legs. It was an altogether humiliating experience and not one you’d like to repeat any time soon, but you couldn’t deny you felt nice and fresh by the time he finally finishes up a small eternity later. Squeaky clean, even. It’s a great improvement from your earlier state, at least, and you don’t protest when he hooks a hand under your arm to help you sit back up. 

Deeply ruffled, you try to reorient yourself while he moves to dispose of the used water somewhere at the back of the tent. You once again consider making a run for it but … oh, it would be another matter entirely if they hadn’t blindfolded you! That was the only thing stopping you from trying. The very real possibility you’d pick the wrong direction and just end up wandering deeper into the desert without even realizing your mistake until it was much too late keeps you firmly rooted to the spot and certainly not because of the dull thrum in your cunt. Nope. Definitely not. 

Aziz comes close again, snapping you out of your stunned trance, and you glance up as he kneels in front of you to warily eye the petite bone carved container in his hand. It was shaped like a flower, and something about it makes every hair on your body slowly stand on end. 

“What is that?” 

“A gift, for the little adventurer from Mondstadt.” He says, giving you (what you think has to be) a sly smile. “Are you afraid of oils and creams as much as you are of me?” 

Your brow draws in uncertainty but you don’t get a chance to pick apart what he’s saying to find the meaning in it. Taking up the wiry bristled brush in his other hand, he unscrews the lid from the trinket and dabs the tip into whatever was inside. For a split second you think he’s going to put makeup on you for some inexplicable reason but then — the now smoothed brush looks wet when he reaches it out towards you, and you reel back with a gasp. He remains undaunted though, and you screw your eyes shut with a soft whimper. 

Startled confusion marches through your mind when he just presses the brush into the side of your neck though, and your mouth immediately pops open at how sticky and cool it is. Before you can yelp about the sensation, he drags a harsh line down across the column of your throat, making you shudder so hard you think you’re going to collapse. But then the sweet, cloying scent of myrrh and lavender mixed together floods your nostrils and you snap your head back up in disbelief. Perfume? 

“You look surprised,” He murmurs, reaching for the other side of your neck to draw another stilted line over your pulse. “Do you know what this is?” 

You shift, more than just a little uncertain and ill at ease now. “I … I don’t think I understand.” 

With a quiet hum, he dips the brush into the mysterious substance again. “You will. Give it time, and you’ll soon come to understand everything.” 

You haven’t the slightest idea what to make of that ambiguous statement. 

Struggling to maintain your calm, you watch his hand stretch out for you again but this time it arims towards your chest. You think he’s going to swipe that goopy liquid over the swell of your breasts but, much to your jolting surprise, he drags it straight down over your pert nipple instead. Stomach roiling at the sensation, you make another blithe attempt to lean away from it but just like every other time he follows you easily enough and flicks that bristled tip over the stiffened bud again. Your breath hitches when it almost immediately starts to grow warm and tingly, shooting a disbelieving look down at yourself even as he reaches to do the same to the other. 

“W - what is that — ahhn!” 

“Relax. You’ll feel good in a moment.” 

Somehow you didn’t believe that at all, and you start to tremble uncontrollably there on the floor. But it soon occurs to you that it’s not just nerves making you shake like a leaf. Your tits grow sensitive and flushed against the wafting air, curling to fine, tight points on your chest as the liquid quickly cools. It makes your blood pound harder, your breath come faster, and you can’t help but squirm at the almost painful knot that curls low in your gut. 

Dizzy now, you issue a quiet whimper into the still tent when you sway in a deeply intoxicated manner. “Dear, Archons - -“ 

You cut off with a startled yelp when he pushes you down again but you no longer have the presence of mind to fight it. Laying there twitching, you tip your chin to dazedly watch that massive hand curl around the meat of your inner thigh and pull your legs apart. Suddenly your nudity seems so stark and arousing it makes you gasp, eyes widening when you realize you’re getting wet. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. Your cunt was flooding and you wail an incomprehensible protest when he leans over you to bring the brush towards your defenseless slit. 

“Little adventurer,” Aziz croons, keeping your legs spread under his palm as he teases the tip of the brush over your lips. “You should have stayed in Mondstadt where they don’t have such big men and potent aphrodisiacs to turn your body against you.” 

Sucking in a harsh, rasping breath, you weakly fling your opposite leg up as if to shove at him but you miss by a wide mile and it just smacks back down to the floor, completely useless. It was like you’d been robbed of your motor skills and mental faculties in equal measure. It was hard just to think straight. 

“W — why?” 

Chuckling, he drags his hand down off your thigh to press into the meat of your labia and spread them, fully exposing your clit to the air. “I had fun playing with you earlier even if your little sword was no match for my ax. You still put up a good fight so of course I’d want to keep playing.” The soft haired brush slowly presses into the pulsing cluster of nerves and you go ramrod stiff, mouth falling open as if to scream but nothing comes out. All you can do is lay there, violently twitching, while he sedately drags it up and down, and side to side to draw even more sticky slick out of your body. “Unfortunately you are a very small adventurer and I am much too big for you to take easily. This will help you adjust to my size and even make it less painful too. You should be happy I’m showing you such kindness.” 

Your head positively swims at the explanation, neck lolling bonelessly on the floor of the tent while you desperately try to sort through it all and cling to your cognizance at the same time. It’s no use though. The effects of the drug sweep you up much too quickly and pull you under. You feel like you're drowning in it, your pussy thrumming and squeezing around nothing even when he finally pulls away from your throbbing clit some time later. 

There’s nothing at all you can do, not even protest, when he finds his feet and then leans down to haul you up against him. Clutched to his chest, you hang there in a lifeless, moaning heap while he walks to the opposite side of the tent where he deposits you onto a waiting bed of pillows that gently cradle your body when he sets you down. Paying no mind to your needy, gasping moans, Aziz leaves you there and retreats back to the clay pot you’d seen him fetch water from earlier to clean you with. On a distant, hazy level, you realize he’s going to wash himself next and you know you should probably be thankful for that. Know you should try to take this moment to escape even if it meant running buck naked out into the desert beyond his tent. 

But you just can’t bring yourself to do anything except writhe and twist on top of the mountain of pillows, blithely trying to squeeze your thighs together and rub out the ache between them without the use of your hands. It’s no good at all. Just utterly hopeless when your body was pulsing so hot and so fiercely your limbs didn’t want to cooperate. 

Idly, you think to try straddling one of the pillows so you can grind your cunt against it. 

Weakly, you roll over and attempt to wriggle yourself on top of one — any of them, it didn’t matter, any would do when your need was so great — but you can’t quite seem to manage. All it does is drag your stiff nipples over the fabric and the stitching, and you issue a low, faltering groan when you realize it’s just making it worse. It was hard to breathe. You felt like you were going insane with the need to be stuffed and filled, and stretched and pounded into unconsciousness. 

You’re so caught up in your suffering you almost don’t notice when Aziz finally returns to your side. You feel the pillows shift under you with the addition of his weight and you try to blink away the stupor at the same time that you abruptly realize you’re drooling. Grunting in surprise at suddenly finding that you were in such a state, you lift your head with an owlish blink. 

The effects of the aphrodisiac were starting to lessen, receding at least enough to clear your head by a small margin … 

Before you can celebrate, you feel his hands descend upon your bound wrists and the sensation of those calloused fingers on your skin punches an abrupt groan out of you. Okay, maybe the effects weren’t fading so much as your body was simply adjusting to the sudden, potent influx of endorphins but at least you could formulate a semi coherent thought now. 

You cling to that small silver lining with every fiber of your shuddering being as he gets the rope untied, freeing your arms at long last, and then rolls you over. The room spins for a brief moment but when your eyes focus and you manage to look down they nearly pop right out of your skull. Not only was he completely nude, so massive and thick with muscle it startles a tiny squeak out of you, but he was also rock hard. And much, much bigger than you could have even imagined. 

Somehow the fear of having that huge cock forced into your body seems to chase away a bit more of the muddled daze hanging over your head, and you bring your hands up in an awkward, uncoordinated rush to push at him. But when you jerk your attention up at his face, you stop dead in your tracks. 

His mask was gone. 

Aziz’s eyes were sharp and narrowly shaped to compliment the lean structure of his face, and his eyes … you suddenly forget how to breathe. You’d never seen irises so startlingly amethyst they looked like sparkling jewels. 

He watches your reaction carefully, the intensity of that bejeweled gaze boring into you even as he crawls over top of you to settle between your legs. The demanding nudge of his rigid cock startles you back to reality, and you suck in such a frantic gasp of air it claws on the way down. 

“No, wait - -“

His hand grabs under your chin and forces your head back so he can seal his mouth over yours and cut you off. You go ramrod stiff underneath him, eyes wide and wild even as you lift shuddering hands to weakly press into his chest. Archons, he was huge. The muscle bulges under your palms and tenses, flexing when he shifts against you to line himself up, and the full weight of what’s happening slams into you all at once. 

Visciously, you tear your mouth from his with a warbling, intoxicated shriek. “Please, I can’t take it! It won’t fit!” 

He issues a deep, rumbling chuckle and runs those thick, rough worn fingers across your flushed cheek to make you tremble anew. “You can. Do not fear it, little adventurer. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?” Pausing, he teases your entrance with the blunt head, making you wheeze at the feel of him so heavy and thick against delicate lips. You reel underneath him and try not to hyperventilate, but he just keeps you pinned and mostly immobile under his sturdy frame. Finally, at length, he says, “Shall I show you how far into you I’m going to reach and give you something to truly be afraid of?” 

“Wha - -“ 

Jostling you when he pulls back, Aziz pushes up to put some space between your pelvis and his, and you almost sigh in relief when his cock retreats from your entrance. But then something fleshy and thick slaps down on your lower belly, effectively robbing you of the ability to breathe, and you slowly glance down at yourself in fast mounting horror. His cock stretches across your stomach, leaving a sticky trail of precum in its wake when he nudges his hips closer to line the base up with your cunt and settle into place. 

It feels like the earth itself is opening up under you to swallow you whole. He’s almost long enough to touch your bellybutton, and that was to say absolutely nothing of his girth. His size makes you look small and incredibly petite in comparison, so much slighter than him in every way that you feel more certain than ever that it’s not going to fit. There was no way it would. 

“Right here,” He intones, squeezing at the soft pouch around your middle and digging his thumb in for emphasis. “This is how much of you I am going to take for myself. Are you ready for me?” 

A half strangled sob bursts out of your mouth. “No, no, no, no —“ 

Ignoring your mouse squeak protests, Aziz repositions himself at your entrance and slowly leans into you, sinking into the tight heat of your body one staggered inch of him at a time. You go still as a statue at the oppressive, suffocating sensation, your hands blindly flying up to brace against his broad barrel chest, but you can’t even find the wherewithal to cry out. All you can focus on is the gradual stretch of your body, the way he forces your cunt to spread and make room for him under that stilted pressure and … much to your gaping shock it doesn’t hurt half as bad as you’d expected it to. There was still a pinch of discomfort, your body unaccustomed to taking something so large, but the aphrodisiac seems to have served its purpose. 

Not only were you soaked and pliant with arousal, but your guts were so soft now that he only needed to exert a small amount of pressure to ease further into you. There is no straining resistance, no tearing, no painful  force necessary to claim your much smaller body for his own. It was staggering to realize how little struggle your cunt actually offers up and you stare at the spot between you two with nothing short of dumbfounded fascination. 

Bit by bit, his length disappears inside you — a quarter, a half, two thirds and then … he’s seated in you straight down to the hilt, Aziz loosing a deep, hissing groan when his pelvis finally presses flush to yours. Whimpering, you spasm on his cock, disoriented and a little too shell shocked to do much of anything else. You’d never felt so full before. So stretched right to the limit and the total lack of pain sends your reeling mind spinning in an endless loop, just trying to grasp what was even happening. You never would have thought it was possible if you hadn’t seen it with your own two eyes. 

“Watch, little adventurer,” He murmurs, drawing a piece of you out of your stupor when he bends close to put his forehead against yours, that loose braid swaying forward to tickle your temple. “Watch how I take you and how your body welcomes me in. You are mine now, and this is the proof.” 

Meaningfully, he drags his amethyst gaze lower and, quaking wildly underneath him, you do the same, following his line of sight to look at where you’re connected. The muscles in his stomach flex, abdominals visibly tensing as he ever so slowly draws his hips back to drag against your inner sleeve. You very nearly go cross eyed at the sensation, so deep and unexpectedly pleasurable it almost sends you shuddering right over the edge, but you force yourself to keep watching. To watch how he pauses at the halfway point, his muscular waist swiveling forward to push back in, in, in, further and further until — the spot just below your bellybutton bulges up at the same time his pelvis meets yours again, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. 

He really was reaching that far into you. 

And you really had taken all of him. 

Wildly clawing at him for something to cling to, you let out a series of frantic, bleating sounds when he slowly starts to angle back again, watching that bulge in your tummy recede and disappear with the retreat of his cock only to come pushing right back in a moment later. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the spot on your lower belly where he keeps pushing up under the skin at an increasingly quicker pace, repeatedly punching the same spot into a soft, rounded bulge. A low ache starts to build deep in your body and somewhere in the back of your cotton stuffed mind you find the wherewithal to realize how sore you were going to be after this. The aphrodisiac would wear off eventually and you would be left in the aftermath to deal with the aching stretch, the throbbing reminder of how he’d felt moving inside of you and the lingering effects of getting pounded by something so big it felt like it was actively rearranging your guts. 

This was in no way what you’d signed up for when you took on this commission, nor is it why you left Mondstadt. 

It’s at that moment, when he’s working his hips hard and fast enough that a steady plap, plap, plap seems to dominate the space inside the tent that you realize you really did miss it. You missed Mondstadt and you wanted to go home. Soon. Immediately after he let you go. 

He would let you go … wouldn’t he?

⭐

Crossposted: here

[possamble]

farcille postcanon characterization warmup that got way out of hand. beware, here be spoilers, dragoncock, and bottoming as an extreme sport.

~~~

Marcille has always loved Falin’s voice. Soft, high, airy and girlish—it was always as gentle as the rest of her, even in the midst of pitched combat. When things went to hell in a handbasket, it was always Falin’s whispery incantations that kept Marcille grounded as blood and monster guts sailed through the air. 

And that hasn’t changed. No amount of dragon could really change that, Marcille thinks. Yes, she she has moments when her voice becomes rough and ragged and guttural, mostly when she’s swinging her mace or her fists, or gritting her teeth through a monster claw stuck into her side. But maybe that urge to growl was always there, and she’s just finally able to voice it now. Marcille finds that she’s loud at times she would have been silent before—grunting with exertion when she would have grimaced quietly, singing some nonsense melody over a mundane task when she would have hummed it under her breath—and that’s a good thing.

But otherwise, nothing has changed. Falin’s voice is as delicate as ever, chiming in a lilting giggle behind a dainty gesture of her hand. Rustling like pages of well-loved books as she casts her protective wards, or ponders over how to cook a new monster, or murmurs right into Marcille’s ear while she…

Well. While she’s got Marcille bent over her own desk with her nightgown pooled at her ankles. Marcille’s not sure if it’s rude or considerate that she didn’t get a chance to dress herself before she had a girthy cock shoved up her cunt first thing in the morning. 

“Marcille,” Falin whispers, unfairly shaky as if she’s the one getting fucked within an inch of her life. She’s mouthing at Marcille’s neck, draped over her and pressing as close as possible in every way, gripping Marcille’s hands tight and keening like she’s found heaven between her legs. “Marcille, Marcille…” 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that she gets to do that, that she gets to sound like that—with that sweet voice she’s always had, now making obscene little noises that are still whispery fine and almost ethereal coming from her mouth. These quiet, barely voiced sighs that puff against Marcille’s ear, the dulcet moans that thrum against her skin, and that demure little gasp when she thrusts a little harder and somehow finds even more space inside Marcille to bottom out in—

“Marcille…” she whimpers like she’s in pain, on the verge of tears, fingers tight between Marcille’s as they grip the edge of the rattling desk together. “You feel—so good, oh… You’re”—another moan buried just behind her ear—"so wet, so good…” 

It’s not like Marcille got the chance to be anything else right now, did she? Not when Falin fell upon her just as she was sorting through her documents, pressed against her back and already unfastening the clasps of her gown and slipping it off her shoulders. She was fully naked before she even got a playful good morning whispered into her ear—it’s a miracle she had the forethought to push her papers out of the way just before Falin had her wrapped around her finger in the most literal sense. 

Well. Fingers in the plural, really, since she always starts with two. Usually while pawing at Marcille’s tit with her other hand until her stupid knees give out and she ends up buckling over whatever surface is nearby—in this case, her desk, mercifully free of any uncapped inkwells at the moment. Now slathered with sweat that makes her tits slip and slide along the wooden varnish, of course, but otherwise non-disastrous. 

Hopefully her nightgown is catching most of the mess running down her thighs, or she’s going to have to make the most humiliating request to the castle staff about her carpets for the third time this month—

“Yes…!” Falin digs her heels in and fucks her even harder, taken with some kind of mindless momentum all of a sudden. “I love you,” she pants in that stupid—feathery, daisy-light tone that has no business being this sweet while she’s ravaging Marcille like this— “you’re perfect, you’re perfect—” 

Marcille’s going to die like this. This is how she’s going to go: Bleating like an animal with her cheek stuck to her desk with drool, eyes just permanently rolled back in her head, toes barely touching the floor as Falin keeps fucking her further onto the desk. She hasn’t said a single coherent word since her second orgasm however many minutes ago, just broken into an endless stream of guttural noises as her cunt slobbers and squelches around Falin’s cock almost as loudly as she’s wailing. 

“Marcille,” Falin keens, sounding like a bashful princess ravished to breathlessness—just something straight out of a high-minded erotica novel—all while hammering Marcille into the desk at a shallow, breakneck pace. “You feel—feel s–o good, you’re perfect, oh—oh, you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, I love you, I love you—” 

For the love of—fuck. Marcille can distantly hear herself scream, can feel the desk digging into her as she flails, her grasp on sanity getting thinner and thinner with each word that tumbles out of Falin’s mouth and shoots straight through her nerves. She’s—good god, she’s not usually this talkative. It’s almost always Marcille begging and blabbering about how much she wants Falin’s cock, how good it feels, how she wants it harder and faster and more, screaming and crying Falin’s name over and over—

But now, in the absence of Marcille’s pathetic yapping—after she’s already fucked the words out of Marcille so thoroughly—Falin’s taken it upon herself to murmur a stream of honeyed nonsense into her ear, her frail and gentle voice breaking with desperation—and fuck, it’s not fair.

“Yes, yes, oh—” Falin sobs into her neck. “I love it—I love it when you sound like this, I love you—you’re so good, so good for me, my Marcille—” 

No, no, no, she can’t do that, she can’t do that—she can’t say that, in that voice, while her cock is so deep in Marcille there’s hardly room for anything else, battering all her nerve endings and rearranging her so that there’s nothing left but her, Falin, Falin—

“Ah!” Falin cries out, like she’s the one getting reamed against her stupid fucking desk so hard she can barely breathe— “Yes, please, please—please say my name again!” 

Well. She can beg all she fucking wants, but it’s not going to be pretty and she has no one to blame but herself—it’s her fault Marcille can hardly speak, it’s her fault her name is only coming in rough wails with both syllables separated with heaving, crying breaths. Marcille gives it her all, scrapes whatever intelligence she has left to speak, and sounds like a dying animal in a way that can’t possibly be anything but hideous to listen to—

And still, Falin sobs, as if in utter ecstasy as she fucks Marcille so hard the desk starts scraping along the floor in harsh jumps. 

“Yes, yes—ah—” Her voice, not so whispery gentle now but still so melodious and clear, sounding out from deep in her chest— “I—love—you—” she weeps, punctuated by the hard slams of the desk against the floor as she drops the rapid pace in favor of mercilessly hard thrusts— “Beautiful—perfect—mine!” 

Then she finally, finally comes—not that it stops her, not with how she thrusts with every spurt. Like she’s not just satisfied with letting it spill out, like she needs to fuck it into Marcille with all her strength, once, twice, then one last time, stuffing her cunt absolutely full with searing heat—

And Marcille doesn’t even realize she’s coming until she’s unceremoniously ejected out the other side of the high, that telltale swoop of vertigo rushing through her veins. The orgasm doesn't even have the grace to let her go limp with afterglow, of course, and she’s left there convulsing and twitching like a drowning fish. With her jaw pressed to the desk, she can actually hear her teeth chatter from how hard she’s shaking, Falin’s warm weight on her be damned. 

(One day. One day, she’ll stop embarrassing herself like this—one day she’ll finish like a normal person during sex, instead of going off like a cheap firework every half hour and wringing an orgasm out of herself as soon as she feels Falin finish inside her, whether or not she even had one left in her to begin with.) 

“M-Marcille,” Falin stammers, her voice breathless but now shy and girlish again as she slowly untangles their hands. “Are you—are you okay?” 

The gall. To ask her that, when she’s nothing but a sweaty carcass slung over her desk, still twitching erratically. To be so gentle as she straightens up and kisses the back of her neck, tenderly brushing her hair to the side as she pulls out ever so slowly—

And still. Not. Slowly. Enough—apparently! Not with the sparks that explode in Marcille’s eyes again, utterly unclear if this is another orgasm or just a particularly brutal aftershock! She just goes squeaking and shaking and sliding off the desk onto her knees, hands clapped over her cunt like they’re going to protect her from the lightning racing up and down her spine. She doesn’t even know where she landed, really, convulsing and closing her thighs around her hand as cum and slick drools into her palms, falling forward and— and smacking her head against the edge of her desk.

“Oh!” Feathered arms clasp around her before she can slide past the wood with her sweaty forehead and land on her face. “Careful—are you okay?” 

The gall. The audacity. The—something, or whatever, fuck, Marcille doesn’t even care anymore. Her head throbs with an oncoming bruise, she can’t feel her legs, she can feel her pussy way too much, and it’s a wonder she hasn’t fallen apart on the spot—

“Okay… let’s…” There’s some maneuvering going on, but hell if Marcille can actually tell what Falin’s doing. “Here, let’s take a bath—I’ll go draw some water.” 

Marcille whines, because no—she doesn’t know where she is, she just twists until her face finds feathers and buries herself there. She even manages to bring one cum-covered hand to grip at the quils, because this mess is Falin’s fault and if she doesn't like it then she can wash it off herself—but she’s not allowed to leave. 

A little chuckle under her breath—and it’s so fucking cute and girlish like she hasn’t just demolished a full grown woman to the brink of unconsciousness, but Marcille can’t even find it in herself to be mad. Falin can ask her whatever the hell she wants, do whatever the hell she wants, so long as she doesn’t let go. 

“I’m bringing you with me, I promise,” Falin whispers so tenderly, pressing a kiss to Marcille’s head. There’s arms tightening around her back and under her knees, and she feels herself being lifted. “I wouldn’t leave you like that…” 

Better not, Marcille grumbles to herself. Not sure if it made it past her mouth, but it doesn’t matter. Falin’s going to take responsibility for turning her morning into—into this, even if it means having to draw some bathwater with an elf clinging to her the entire time. She’s going to be the one to wash her off, bring her their missed breakfast, and tell everyone why she wasn’t there at the morning meeting—

Maybe not that last part. 

“I’m sorry,” she hears, in that soft and whispery tone she’s loved for so many years. That voice that didn’t change, even with everything that happened—everything that Marcille did to her, and it’s—

It would be so, incredibly stupid if she started crying out of nowhere. 

“Liar,” she whines, digging the indignant annoyance back up to pout like a spoiled brat. “You liked… every second…” 

Another giggle that so infuriatingly lovely. “I did.” The sound of a squeaky valve turning, then rushing water that slaps against stone. “Did you?” 

Marcille just grumbles again and clings even tighter. Falin just laughs a little louder and strokes her hair, too kind to demand an answer in so many words—or, perhaps, impishly content to let Marcille incriminate herself with her silence, as she so often does.

[artists-who-rarely-draws]

Hunt down the good in me.

Garroth version.

This was a request from amaizing fan fic writer @starhvney where the reader is injured taking a blow for Laurance.

G/n Reader

Warning: Gore, nothing too crazy but the reader is injured, and I tell you about it, as well as gore being mentioned with the people who ambushed you. Shadow knight Laurance goes on a rampage, hurt comfort both in the literal and metaphorical sense lmfao.

Tysm for the requests! I am always open for more as long as my inbox is open!

Please enjoy!

You really should have expected it you suppose. The bandits had gotten used to easy life outside the remains of Pheonix Drop, raiding supply carts and merchants on their way to or from the small settlement. Obviously they weren't going to leak new arrivals with much bigger equipment than the rest of the inhabitants arriving out of nowhere, much LESS better equipped people fixing the village walls and gates. You suppose you expected them to be more... subtle... cowardly? In their approach to it. Oh how wrong you were.

Thank Irene Laurance carried his greatsword at all times because the closest thing to a weapon *you* currently had was a pick axe to work on the stone parts of the wall, sure sure it would suck ALOT to catch a pickaxe to the... well, anywhere, but it's nothing compared to an actual intended weapon. Laurance took the lead, telling you to stand back the moment the first bandit stepped out of the trees. And you QUICKLY realized just why Laurance was on the potential Jury of Nine list. But at some point, no matter the skill level, numbers can override it.

About 34 bandits had come out of the forest, a handful of the smart ones fled when they saw Laurances sheer skill with a greatsword. You were no expert but you knew that the great sword was one of the more difficult weapons to wield, it's huge size made it's attacks devastating but it required alot of effort to use it, once you were committed to a swing you were just that, committed using this sword was something you had to put the whole momentum of your body into. Apparently, a bandit had figured that out to, as time seems too slow, you watch a masked bandit dual wielding daggers preparing to strike just as Laurance is trapped in a strike against 3 bandits. You can't let this happen! If Laurance gets heavily injured, then it would be pitifully easy for them to take you out being unarmed and then break in and do who knows what to the village! Well... at least that's what you're going to say when Laurance inevitably chews you out for surging forward. Truth being that that you just... didn't want to see your love get hurt no matter the extent.

You throw yourself between Laurance and the bandits blade, adrenaline running through your system before swinging the pick axe with all your might at the bandits head, having to tense your whole body to keep from a full body recoil at the feelings running through you of it tearing through skin and cracking bone the bandit letting out a gurgling cut off shout.

You honestly don't even feel the dagger enter and lodge into your side, turning your head to the side quickly to find Laurance already staring over his shoulder to you, breath held and eyes wide. You couldn't tell, trapped looking into his eyes as shock turned to a lightless rage, but everyone else had stopped fighting as the forest went *silent* no rustling of leaves or chirping of birds, the only sound now to be heard was a reverberating growl from Laurance. Smoke billowing out of the sides of his mouth as his form starts growing much larger.

His scream tears through the forest as he grows he reaches forward, grabbing the nearest bandit by the head and slaming them on the ground with a sickening crack. Fully Shadow knight as he springs forward blood red sword viciously and furiously putting an end to the bandits. You can hardly take it all in, not only with the speed and complexity of his movements, but the smell of sulfur and second dose of adrenaline that rushed through you when he turned, the responce of a injured prey animal desperately trying to run *just a little more* left you lightheaded. But you ignore it, not only because it would only agitate him further, but also.... it was Laurance, the sweet, kind, and thoughtful man you fell in love with, and you weren't going to let your body convince you he was a threat.

Some bandits had tried to run... they didn't get far. Laurance didn't spare even a single one, the forest around you stained red as far as the eye could see, covered in mangled corpses. Laurance stands over what was once... a bandit. Body eerily still as smoke whisps off of his armor. You want to give him a moment to cool down, literally and metaphorically. But the adrenaline has completely left you, and you are more and more aware of the searing pain in your side. No one tells you how much being stabbed feels like fire.

"L-laurance?" Is all you can hoarsely mutter, blood dribbling from your lips before falling to your knees. The shadow knight wips around red eyes wide "Y/N!" He shouts as if snapped out of a trance he runs sliding to his knees to your side.

"I-its okay, you ok-kay don't talk don't talk, I'm here I have you" he rambles quickly, voice trembling as he babbles out reassurances that seem more for himself than you, as he harshly tears at his cape, pain scorching up your side as he ties it to the dagger securing it to your side. You don't know what comes after this.... but you know that just in case you want...

"Love.. you.." You mummer voice hardly a whisper causing him to jump eyes back to that Marble blue, tears falling down his cheeks quickly.

"I Love you, I love you so fucking much, you have to be fine, your fine. We will say it again tomorrow, okay??" He stammers out, starting to pick you up... but your world goes black.

Everything after is a strange.. choppy blur. Laurance held you close to his chest as he ran to Donna's home. Laurance would shout and fight anytime someone tried to convince him to leave your side. And then... you fully fell unconscious.

There's a dull throbbing throughout your entire body, and you're thirsty. You can barely let out a little groan with how dry your throat is. You scrunch up your face and move to tighten your hands into fists before you prop yourself up, but you end up squeezing the hand in yours.

"Y/N!" Laurance shoots up, holding your hand tightly with both of his. You open your eyes to be met with Laurances wide baby blues, tears fulling his eyes as he quickly leans down to give you a heart achingly tender kiss. Cupping your cheek with one hand, you raise one of your own to do the same, ignoring your protesting muscles.

"Thank Irene" he whispers forehead pressed against your own, his tears fall onto your own cheeks, before you work to brush them away.

He will demand to know what you were thinking later... right now he just wants to bask in *you*.

[esamastation]

Part forty-eight of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven

-

His Qi is beginning to spin.

It feels incredible. The flow is sluggish, the mass of energy is still so solid that it feels like he's working with a slurry of concrete - but there's a current. With each session, it gets easier.

With each session, it spins longer on its own.

He's never felt an achievement like it. Like, sure, he knows cultivation, he'd even advanced in cultivation. He'd worked really hard! He'd taken Shen Qingqiu's core almost to a new level before the Without a Cure Poison! He knows how it's done and has been doing it for years.

But the thing is, he'd never actually earned Shen Qingqiu's cultivation prowess. It came ready-made for the most part, with the majority of the hard work completed decades ago. He'd inherited an Immortal Master's Core, and he'd just brushed it off and carried on, and even though he'd made it work, it… wasn't really his.

And true enough, neither is this, not entirely. He's skipping at a minimum a decade of Qi-condensation work here thanks to Mako and MP and EXP and all that. He got one hell of a head start here! But then, everyone in SOLDIER did, and the current inside him, this development in that near solid mass of energy - that's all him.

He's cultivating a Golden Core! And it's all him. And goddamn, it feels so good. Like a giddy adrenaline burst with serotonin and dopamine and I kinda wanna jump around and dance and spin good. Happiness very literally incarnates in a beautiful glowing core.

He's not quite there yet, it's still like trying to spin a boulder the size of a house, but he's getting there, he's almost gotten it to shape, it's almost spinning under its own weight, it's so close that he can almost taste it.

Just a little bit more… 

Sephiroth moves from form to form, feeling the flow of energy circulate in his meridians, smoother by the moment. His spiritual veins are still scarred all the way to hell, but he's gotten them to yield, and the snags have opened up - the flow is easier now. With time and with careful cultivation, he'd be able to slowly heal them. With Sephiroth's natural healing aided by the magic of cultivation… and actual magic to boot…!

Ah, he's really making something incredible here!

It's pretty much inevitable that something comes along to put a spanner into the works.

It's Rude, coming to stand next to the training field. Sephiroth can't feel Angeal anywhere near. Reno is out of his reach too. And Rude feels… anxious.

Sephiroth searches the surroundings with his slowly sharpening spiritual senses and then begins pulling his cultivation in, as fast as he can without causing issues. He compresses his core, constricts the flow to safer levels and finishes his set by pulling it all inward. His core carries on with the momentum he's given it and keeps spinning.

Rude is standing at the very edge of the training field, not even trying to hide for once.

"What's wrong?" Sephiroth asks, pulling his sword into a brief salute before sheathing it. "Where are the others?"

Rude is quiet for a moment, taking him in carefully. Then he relaxes. "There is a Wutai troop movement in the forest. Reno confirmed they're heading this way," he explains and then, "Hewley has gone to meet them head on."

… Ah, shit. There it is! Plot, coming to get him! Guess things had been a bit too easy and nice. Okay, he probably should've expected this, what with it being warfront and everything, but still! Fuuck.

Sephiroth draws a breath and braces himself. "Which way?"

Rude hesitates. "It's unlikely that your intervention is necessary. SOLDIER of Hewley's level can handle Wutai troops."

Most likely, yes! But Sephiroth isn't sure he could handle the idea of Angeal just… killing people?! Even if it is the way it is and even if it is what they usually do. Who knows how many people they've already killed in Shinra's name! Going by his mission listings, the Shinra standard mode of operation is kill first, ask questions never… probably very often! If that's how Angeal handles things too, then…

"I didn't ask whether it was necessary," Sephiroth points out sharply. "I asked which way?"

"... North," Rude finally admits, and Sephiroth detects no lies in his tone or body language. The guy seems a bit resigned.

Nodding, Sephiroth searches the area north with his senses, and then - then he takes off.

He really takes off.

It might not be sword flight, but man, SOLDIER are really something else when it comes up to speed! Even with Sephiroth's stupid long legs and their ridiculous muscles, the way he just eats the distance is incredible! From the outside it must look like he just vanished, anime style. Just blink, and Sephiroth's gone!

Ah, pity he can't see it from outside.

Not the time, though. Superhuman speed or not, it's really awkward, navigating the forest - there's no handy-dandy road to follow northward, just bushes and trees and uneven ground. And smacking into a tree at this speed really doesn't appeal to him!

Hmm. Actually. Didn't Sephiroth fly around, like, a lot in the original game? He remembers it because, one, seeing the low poly model fly seriously towards the camera had made him laugh his ass off, and two, because seeing it sent him down a rabbit hole of trying to figure out whether there were Qigong aspects in Final Fantasy VII. He never got a definite answer to that, but… Sephiroth definitely flew around. And so did Genesis and Angeal, on wings that should've never been able to support their weight!

And he's already proven that cultivation works here… so, maybe…?

Sephiroth flexes his still imperfect core and pulses his still sluggish QI and spreads out his arms, Masamune in one hand, and jumps. His momentum sends him forward a bit more than intended, but he gets into the air. He gets up high indeed - and almost smacks right into a tree for his efforts.

With one foot he pushes off it, and he keeps going up, near weightless, carried on by his Qi. And it's. 

Woah.

PIDW was, despite all its Xianxia themes of Demons and different Realms and Immortal Cultivators, more Wuxia when it came to combat. Sure there were spells and Qi attacks - and really, really elaborate sword formations for a story that didn't really do teamwork all that much! But while there was sword flight, there wasn't your usual weightlessness and gliding and jumping around from wire-thin branches, light as a feather. 

Shen Yuan had been convinced it was just because Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky wanted to write a million scenes of sword flight make out, and that didn't work so well if everyone could fly around willy-nilly, now did it? No, just take away the heroine's sword and make Bingge fly them around, and boom, perfect excuse for mid air PDA! He didn't mind reading it - sword flight was pretty cool and lack of weightlessness made fights more grounded overall. 

Heh, grounded.

Living in PIDW with a disability that made sword flight kinda risky though, ah. A bit of weightlessness in the way of most Wuxia heroes everywhere would've made it much easier, just getting around in Cang Qiong Mountain! Alas, he had to walk instead. What a waste of time.

Well, apparently there are no such limitations here! And of course Qigong flight comes easily for Sephiroth. Of course it does! 

Sephiroth flies his way to the highest tree tops and over them, jumping from the highest branches as the distance simply disappears beneath him. He's weightless and strong, and not even gravity can touch him!

Ahh, there's really nothing like cultivating a Golden Core!

One Wingless Angel, coming through!

-

Wheee~~ :D

[oddballwriter]

Stories

Summary: You tell the boys varying stories about your childhood and upbringing where you got hurt, in a comedic sense.

Warnings: Mentions of getting injured or hurt but nothing too major other than the mention of getting the wind knocked out of them, busting their lip, and getting scapes on their body. All of this is put in the context of the reader recounting the stories to the boys and laughing at how dumb they were.  

Author’s Snip: Some of the stories that the reader says/are mentioned are made up but a few are actually real stuff that happened to me. I will not tell you which were made up for the story and which were true.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count:

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sergeant102105

You had, what the boys would call, an endless well of stories from when you were a kid.

Like the time you snuck in a bunch of bugs and put them in the lunch box of the kid that was picking on you during recess, knowing that he was terrified of bugs.

"It's fine. All his food was wrapped so it's not like any of it was contaminated. And he was a brat anyways.".

Or the time you straight up stood up a boy in the 7th grade who had asked you out to your school's winter break dance because you didn't like him and he wouldn't take no for an answer. You never even bought a ticket to the dance. To make it even funnier, you were moving over the winter break and changing schools as a result. So, you successfully ghosted him.

You even told them the time you skipped school on senior ditch day with your friends...

... you were all sophomores. And seemingly no one checked to see why neither of you were in your classes. Was that slightly concerning in hindsight? Yeah. But you all thought that you were soooo cool.

You seemingly had them all.

Even the story about how you got your first kiss was crazy. You played a weird game of truth-or-dare at a party where you had to have your eyes closed and let a random boy kiss you. You literally don't know who your first kiss was.

But the most insane ones was when it left a mark.

When Steven confessed to always wondering how you got the scar on your knee, he was not prepared for you to tell a story that sounded like a Jackass skit.

"Oh. It's actually really funny." you started out with.

"When me and my siblings were at the park down the street from our house we found an abandoned skateboard. We thought it would be fun to sit on it and ride it down a hill with pavement. I wanted to go first, so they let me. But neither of us were old enough to understand momentum and figured that when we got to the grass it would just stop," you explain. You could see that Steven already knew what was coming. But you continued.

"Here's the thing though, the thing that got me was actually the skateboard hitting a rock on the pavement that we didn't see from where we were. So I fell off and scraped the shit out of my knee on the way down." you reveal.

Steven had a clear cringing face from thinking about it.

"I was fine," you reassure him, "I had a bunch of scrapes on me and cried the whole way home but it was nothing rubbing alcohol and time couldn't fix," you say.

You also told Marc about the time you got the wind knocked out for the first time. Marc did ask, but he too wasn't ready for that story.

"I had a pair of rollerskates and this boy who lived in the neighborhood thought they were dumb and said that his bike was more practical. So I challenged him to a race from one end of the street to the other to settle it." you say. "I won," you add with a sense of pride. "But I made the mistake of turning around to taught him so I didn't see where I was going." you explain.

"So I crashed into a parked car and that's how it happened." you finish off with.

Marc looked at you in horror and gasped your name in concern.

"Don't worry I didn't break anything in my body or the car. I was wearing kneepads and a helmet. I just got the wind knocked out of me for a few seconds. I was able to get up and roll back." you wave off.

"Did you ever tell anyone?" Marc questions.

"No. My dad said that if I ever got hurt doing something stupid then he'd take them away." you say.

The only one amused by your stories was Jake who, according to him, got the lamer story behind a mark. The story of the dot on your bottom lip.

You set up the scenario, "I was five or something. My aunt was babysitting me and I wandered into my older cousin's room. He had one of those boxing dummies, the ones that topple and get right back up when you hit them.".

"Well, I was hitting it but I was so small that I couldn't really make it move. So I pushed it with my whole body. I had managed to get it to tilt a little and I was so excited that I got off of it. But I didn't back up enough so it hit me in the face and I busted my lip." you say and conclude.

Jake laughed and said, "I was half expecting you to have rough housed with your cousin and accidentally hit something when you first started.".

"We would but he'd obviously go easy on me." you mention and then have something cross your mind.

"I did get rug burn on my stomach one time as a kid because I was roughhousing with one of my siblings and they dragged me around on the carpet," you say.

Jake just laughed again and shook his head.

"What is it with you and just casually saying stuff like that?"

[charmwasjess]

If there’s a legit good reason why Qui-Gon chose to specialize in form IV, Ataru, the Hawkbat lightsaber form, aside from the simple, likely fact that he did it to troll his old Master Dooku (who outright calls the acrobatics of the form “ridiculous,”) I’d like to hear it. By which I mean I’ll write you a post about it.

Ataru is fast, aggressive, and inclined to treat the battlefield as a 3D space where the air is just as comfortable a place to be as on your own two feet. A direct response to Soresu, the “defense is my attack” form, Ataru flips that into “attack is my defense.” (We won’t talk about Makashi’s contribution to the conversation: “no defense whatsoever, but think fast, I just threw a dinner fork at you so hard it stuck in your metal arm!”) 

Of course, the most recognizable and classic application of Ataru is Yoda’s; we see him whizzing around people’s heads like a little green hummingbird in his AotC and RotS duels. Qui-Gon’s version looks nothing like that. If we weren’t told, I think it would be hard to guess that those characters are using the same form. In Duel of the Fates, Qui-Gon has to move down or over those infamous walkways repeatedly. He just jumps them: no flips, no aerial maneuvers, no bouncing off the walls. And this isn’t simply a practical choice for his age and build: Jocasta Nu is running up walls and leaping out of skyscrapers at easily aged 40 years older than Qui-Gon, and for all Dooku’s bitching over Ataru acrobatics, he does more flips to simply avoid walking down a few stairs than Qui-Gon, Master of the flip form, does in his entire time on screen. 

And yet, on some level, all of that makes perfect sense for Qui-Gon. Who better to completely subvert a form? This is a character who is contrary as fuck, full of wonderful contradiction, who blends lightsaber theory centered on attack and aggression with literal meditation. While the most notable scene, actually kneeling in the pose and everything, is in TPM, he does battle meditation repeatedly on a mental level in the Master and Apprentice and Padawan novels. (And it rightfully freaks out Obi-Wan.) Qui-Gon takes Ataru’s “your whole body is a weapon” and doesn’t apply that to somersaults, but rather, to moves like punching Darth Maul off a balcony as we see him do in Duel of the Fates. He fights in a way that throws himself bodily up against obstacles. You can see the same physicality of his relationship with his weapon in the scene where he is simply burning through the blast doors in TPM. We’ve seen Jedi cut through things on screen other times, but that scene is remarkable and memorable for Qui-Gon’s level of intensity. He is the battering ram. 

And we could loop back into lineage, couldn’t we? Qui-Gon stands in a line of Jedi with unconventional relationships to their lightsaber forms; their choices are formed in context of and in conversation with each other. Those backward, momentum-gaining swings from Duel of the Fates look very familiar, but who trained Qui-Gon? (And who notoriously had a problem with Ataru and might've pushed his student on some workarounds or encouraged him to cut out bits he didn't like, such as aerials?) And speaking of, is it a stretch to think that Dooku’s own casual backflips are less a considered choice and more an old habit, being himself trained by a Master who has only a theoretical relationship with gravity? 

All this to enjoy just another example of how personal the lightsaber forms can be to specific Jedi, and what wonderful fun it is to unpack the ways they use them differently because of their unique personalities and lineage.

[greetings-humans]

suo hayato - martial arts rant

(minor plot spoilers for up until episode 4/chapter 8)

(all the stuff here also otherwise spoil suo's fighting style which you first see at ep 5/ch11-12)

now do you see this? (from ep 5)

and this (chapter 12)

so I have some experience in martial arts, like im a black belt in zendo ryuu karate do (a decently niche style of karate and like I also did a bit of jiu-jitsu, tho no competitions for any of these) but anyways this feels wrong.

now I don't claim to know all there is about martial arts but um. given the power behind even the weakest of punches (and kanumo (the opponent) survived shishitouren during its extremist phase so he can't be that weak), putting your hand in front of an incoming fist is a recipe for disaster and so much pain. the same can be said for attempting to... grab (??) the fist from above with your palm and your extended fingers, like you can see in the panel.

my poor, abused, tendinitis-ridden arms feel the pain for you, suo, please stop it.

we know from the manga, that suo isn't one of the people with "monster strength" (and those people also shouldn't be doing moves like this but I'll assume that monster strength also comes with insane muscle support on their arms/forearms/hands and they're also not trained in martial arts so whatever. let them make their mistakes since it doesn't hurt them that much) because suo is never described as having "monster strength" so him doing this is just off.

but, dee, you might say, this is a fucking manga/anime about teenage gangsters were you expecting realism??

as of episode 5 / chapter 12 (?), suo has confirmed that he's dabbled in mixed martial arts. you cant have him making these sort of mistakes for the shits and giggles.

and these feel like a decently basic mistakes, too. i asked my brother his opinion on this as a blue-belt in karate and he agrees with me that suo is off here. i asked my bsf (who has like a yellow belt in taekwondo but hasn't practiced martial arts in like nearly a decade) on an opinion on people using their palm to block an incoming punch and he thought that's weird. I asked google and even fucking wikihow disagrees with the palm thing.

like. use your opponent's momentum against themselves yes. but also.

nowhere is there a mention of stopping the momentum with your palm. your fucking palm??? hello??? or stopping the momentum by grabbing the fist like that?? who grabs a fist from above😭😭 suo look at your goddamn wrist. joints are scared of you.

out of the top of my head, suo is in danger of breaking his fingers or spraining/breaking his wrist or fucking up his elbow, or some funky combination thereof. and he's also definitely getting in some sort of trouble with his tendon. but c'est la vie, ig.

and btw. he has pulled this off correctly a few times in the manga.

chapter 11

in the bottom right corner you see him deflecting properly and safely. and then rushing ahead to get out of Kanuma's range (wouldn't want a falling Kanuma to grab him on his way down lol). no clue what his left hand is doing tho. even if he was attempting to assume a ready stance. what the hell is his elbow doing that high? and why is his palm open and looking away from him? fuck if I know, this doesn't look like karate but there are like thousands of schools of karate with different variations so who knows. it's vaguely giving king fu or jiu jitsu but take this with a grain of salt.

or this from chapter 68. also correct technique. don't come at me for spoilers btw, I've literally given you zero context.

tho to be fair, I'm a little confused as to the angle that he's hand is at? like it seems like his torso is in front of the punch (which vaguely makes sense because the other guy can presumably aim towards center mass aka torso), but like suo should already be moving his torso away so his arm shouldn't be reaching out from that angle. whatever. I'll forgive this. it's super minor.

10/10 for just grabbing the damn wrist instead of what he was doing before.

tho once again to be fair, I'm also a little confused about what his free hand is doing but whatever. and how did the other guy lose his balance? idk suo tagged at his punching arm hard ig. and giving the "whap" sfx then he might have somehow hit the other dude's leg? certainly not with his free hand cause given his stance, he's still not low enough to hit the foot or shin of the other guy (which is what the panel insinuates). unless he ducked? like crouched down while holding the dude's wrist and used his free hand to 'whap'? or maybe suo used his front leg? idk. whatever. still better than before.

nii satoru (the mangaka) so far seems great, because windbreaker has a nice plot and a fun, diverse cast of rather realistic teenagers (given the plot). he does seem to have a weakness when it comes to official martial arts styles, though, and that transferred towards the animation, as well.

hey wbk fandom give me your thoughts. idk if there are more ppl into wbk that also dabble(d) in martial arts but I'd love to hear your thoughts, especially!

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Harvest Moon in Aries ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

In my experience, Full Harvest Moon is always significant for those who are more spiritually attuned. This period allows—almost forces, actually—us to die to the previous cycle of our lives much like the trees shedding their leaves. This is a period of slowing down; of calm but maybe also a little bit of depression; of sweeping changes and moving places; of pausing and recalibration; which could cause a sickening sense of losing control of our lives, though in reality, we’re just being prepared for a massive transformation.

If anything, all these changes are the perfect answers to all you’ve prayed for! It’s harvest time for a lot of us! Some of us are having a mini harvest but those are results nevertheless. You’ve done marvellously well to be here right now. And haven’t you grown so much? I’m grateful you’ve made it this far.

Speak into existence your higher intent this Harvest Moon. Be at peace knowing that whatever transpires, everything works out in your favour. Your manifestations are protected, more than you may realise. Work on beautifying all elements of your Life, taking care of all aspects of your physical and spiritual health, and most of all, enjoy Life. All the changes you’ve managed to manifest thus far. There’s plenty more coming but you can’t compete with Destiny, yeah?

All in Divine Timing~🌕Congratulations and happy harvest~🌾

[Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Returning to the Essentials

intent – Ace of Pentacles

You’ve made it exceedingly clear to the Universe that you want a higher sense of stability in your Life. You might’ve come from a background of poverty mindset or that your environment was brimming with individuals operating on lack mindset. A lot of the people you used to surround yourself with were literal peasants in that they’re always hungry for something more… but won’t work on themselves to become a vibrational match to those higher desires. So, essentially, beggars. Beggars for love, for money, attention, recognition, status, you name it.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting those seemingly unspiritual things, what is a problem is the sense of underserving of those things that people won’t even make the first step towards planting those seeds of manifestation for their own personal fulfilment. Such people only end up with rotten envy, jealousy, spite, bitterness, and even resentment. You saw all of that. Swam in an ocean of such mindsets and tendencies. You finally woke up and said, ‘I want none of that nonsense anymore. None of it is natural. I want out!’

sow – 4 of Cups

So, you ejected yourself from those situations and possibly burnt some bridges. It was better to be alone and work on the essentials. You get to know yourself better that way, all strengths and weaknesses, all opportunities and challenges. You’ve enjoyed learning and studying things that inspire you to continue to build a sparkly Life, right? You’ve worked plenty hard on your own fixing your internal compass, haven’t you? None of that will ever go to waste. You were creating vibrational pathways towards your Highest Possible Intended Destiny. It’s time to begin anew with your visions. Your plans are taking shape. You can see clearly where to step in your next chapter of hustle.

I guess, you’re still feeling like you’re not quite there yet. Or that it feels like your desired reality is taking its sweet time. I guess you could be struggling with dissatisfaction every now and then. Or that certain days you can’t believe the insane level of boredom that suddenly strikes. Sometimes you wonder if there’s any meaning to all this internal hustle you’ve been doing. But there totally is and the fact of the matter is that you’re building strength and momentum at the present moment. I suspect very strongly you’re going to be insanely busy in the next cycle of your Life. Cherish this period. It probably will never come again and soon enough this chapter is only gonna remain a memory you recount sometimes as part of your Life’s Story.

reap – 4 of Wands

And finally, I’m sure you’re already feeling this without anyone else telling you: you’re returning to the essentials. You’ve rediscovered the essence of your being. The styles that suit you. Pursuits that delight you genuinely. These are the few things that truly matter to you and that’s all you want to spend energy on. If in the past you were frantically chasing a few forms of aesthetics or had a number of dreams to pursue, you’ve narrowed everything down to only the essentials—the ones that truly make you feel excited, alive.

Although it feels like returning to your inner child essence, at the same time, you’re not the old you. You’re completely brand new. You’re like a transcendent version of your truer self in the past. It feels strangely nostalgic but also novel. Like you’re holding this inexplicable paradox inside of you. But the truth is, you’ve simply transcended above the duality of light and dark, good and bad. You’re now living in the non-dualistic 5D version of this Earth Matrix. Congrats! You’ve truly awakened! Welcome to 5D Earth, Master Manifestor~!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Your Heart Has the Best Compass

intent – VII The Chariot

First of all, you’re an incredibly intuitive person and to a large extent, I think you’re psychic. You could have one or two of the clairs. Clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience, claircognisance. You are often guided by your intuition to make changes or attempts that may not always look sensible or responsible by other people. But you seem to have disregarded all of other’s expectations or advice. You believed in yourself and decided to pursue something dearly important to your heart. In a manner of speaking, you were following the path of your Destiny, so congrats! You made the right decision. From here on you can only get stronger.

In your physical Reality, I see you experiencing bounds and leaps of good fortune! You don’t need a shooting star to help make your dreams come true now, you are the Star itself. You make what you want come to Light. It’s possible you’re gonna see people in your Reality being more polite, helpful, cuter, kinder, and generally more pleasant. You’d be like, ‘Did I just jump timelines? Is this still the same Earth I’m used to?!’ Well, you quantum jumped into a higher dimension of Reality and you should be proud of all the inner work you’ve done to be in alignment with these higher frequencies!

sow – Knight of Cups

So, this is another water/emotion energy. The Knight here is simply saying you’re ready to take your Life to the next level of happiness—a spiritual variety of contentment whilst living on Earth. I think you want Love? XD You’re beginning to really want what people call ‘5D relationships’. You want to meet your Soul Mates, your Destined Person, your Soul Tribe. You want Love in a peaceful, exciting, creative world. And you’re going to ‘work’ on that. You’ve decided to never let anyone disrespect you for all the weirdness you have to show them. Unapologetic for days. You ain’t afraid to be seen as a bitch, or a weirdo, an alien, or even a villain.

Nevertheless, all that is just the outer package of your person, which is needed to navigate some hardships in Life when they arise. On the inside, you’ve truly become soft, peaceful, content, and I think you’re pretty much happy with where you are in Life now. Out of all the Piles, yours feels most like you’re truly starting something new that you’re passionate about. There’s something you’ve been meaning to do/create/launch which is only needing the right Divine Timing. Once you hit the bell, there’s no snooze button—you’re going on a ride! Life is gonna get super exciting, so stay on your lane because you’re totally on the right path towards changing your Life!

reap – 3 of Pentacles Rx

When your Life finally takes that amazing turn, you’re going to be spoiled by the Universe with a lot of happiness. I’m seeing SO much abundance beyond material means. You’re going to be SO beautiful. I’m seeing a crazy glow up one way or another. Perhaps because now you have access to those things that can support a glow up. New wardrobe. New teeth. New face for some… New country. New house. New everything and you look gorgeous! That said, there are family members or childhood friends who are totally NOT gonna understand your transformation. Yeah… let peasant be peasants if you ask me.

There are those of you who will want to provide for your family/friends with your newfound wealth and if they’re deserving of that, why not? Just please don’t do any of that with the desire to get their approval, and this is especially the case if your family/friends are incredibly toxic. Live for yourself, babe. Share only with those who are deserving. Only you can decide this but ultimately, respect yourself enough to never beg the acknowledgement of those who are already committed to seeing you in a negative light. Never let ANYBODY reduce your accomplishments, transformations, your Light. Never let anybody poop on your parade XD

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Hand of Fucking Midas

intent – Page of Wands

Okay, in spite of the title, of all the Piles, your energy has a sage vibe to it. I feel like you’ve transformed into a spiritual master of sort. You got away from the Matrix’s rat race. All the riches you used to think you should have in order to feel like you belonged in society have gone out the window. There are so many material things you do not care about anymore. You’ve rediscovered your essence as a spiritual being having a Human experience. It’s all just a Game and you’re going to have the best-value experience whilst being here. You’ve cultivated a mindset of beauty. ‘Nothing is worthwhile if it’s not beautiful.’

You only want to float beautifully until the day you die. The paradox of your existence is that now that you don’t desire anything desperately anymore, everything comes to you ever so effortlessly. Perhaps it really is because you don’t care if it comes to you or not. It’s exactly because you’re free from worries and anxieties that your positive vibrations effortlessly call forth those positive expectations into your energetic field, and surely enough, they manifest in the physical whether or not you really want them. Paradox. Paradox.

sow – 5 of Pentacles

Reiterating the previous message, here is you sowing seeds of nothingness in this world. From nothingness comes everything. If you don’t limit yourself, anything, literally everything, is possible to create. You’ve tapped into the VOID and understood the secret of Co-Creation. Might it be that you’ve had a really strange, esoteric dream recently? I think you could’ve been activated in your sleep. I feel more strongly that this whole developing a Midas Touch was brought about after transmuting a fuckload of personal traumas you’ve accumulated in this incarnation.

You’ve been through all the sides of sorrow and happiness that now you’re clearer as to what kinds of things are truly meaningful for a Human existence. Now you only want the essentials, and those things you consider essentials are concepts still too difficult too grasp for most Humans. Though you do not carry the essence of being Human, you more than them understand what being Human should be all about. It’s insane. It’s all paradoxical. But you’re here on a mission to beautify this realm. To help Mankind elevate themselves above the status of being miserable slaves—slaves often to their own toxic desires. You’ve transcended all of that via your own suffering.

reap – 9 of Pentacles

From here on, there is no more lack. Because you don’t want much anymore. You’ve let go of all the tight grips on the illusions and temptations of the Matrix. Your wants are now purer, kinder, fairer. I feel you want everybody to have also the things that you take for granted. You want everybody to share in the bounty of the natural world easily. ‘There are things in this world that are NOT supposed to be expensive.’ You want everybody to have access to basic needs at a decent level/quality without having to pay for a premium.

All of that said, I think in the future you’re soon going to have your own business that helps improve the lives of your community instead of ruining the ecosystem and making it hard for everybody. If not a business, you could be involved in some sort of invention or revolution that could, well, revolutionise the way many people live, work or approach businesses on their own terms. I think this Pile has the potential to change the world for the better. You may not care that much about such wild dreams for now, for you are currently peacefully enjoying some fruits of your intense spiritual labour thus far.

But it’s coming, baby~ Your train to awesome is coming to pick you up. Just chill~ When Divine Timing strikes, your body is gonna move on its own😉

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]