#which is also a reference to half life plot

[masyaluk]

"a man with a briefcase was here to see you"

[aeyumicore]

wasteland

decades after the destruction of judgement day, you return to the abyss meadow—now an empty wasteland. a painful walk down memory lane has you remembering all the sinful things sylus did to you on the day he’d brought you to the blooming field of blood-red datura.

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: dragon!sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings/angst, angst with slight/no comfort (depends how you want to look at it), fluff, continuation of myths

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 15.9k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, dragon!sylus, two dicks!sylus, dom!sylus, monsterfucking, HEAVY SPOILERS and references to sylus’s lore/myths (beyond cloudfall), themes of depression/trauma/loss of a loved one, marking (scratching and biting) and possessive behavior, implied virginity loss (both mc and sylus), slight BARELY coercion (trust me mc is more than willing), p in v, fingering with claws, eating out, face riding, horns as handlebars, belly bulge, belly swelling from cum, double penetration (in v), slight bondage with sylus’s tail, no protection, breeding kink, talks of mating and pregnancy, multiple orgasms, somewhat angst no comfort (depends how you look at it), has some comfort, some fluff, lots and lots of smut, knotting, fucking with knot, lots of overstimulation, boobie play, lots of making out, lots of biting, use of Y/N, use of petnames (sweetheart, little dragon, dove, sparrow, love, sorceress), slight references to ‘please & thank you’ fic (easter egg dialogue hehe), will add more warnings as needed

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: wasteland song - has arcane spoilers (please listen to before reading) | wasteland song - no arcane spoilers | beyond cloudfall myths | ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: helloooooo she is finally here jfc. first and foremost PLEASE listen to the song linked above before reading as it was a HEAVY inspiration for the angst portion of the fic, as well as parts of the fluff. of course it’ll still make sense without watching and listening but i think it’s much more impactful with, otherwise the lyrics are whatever haha. 

the song is wasteland - royal & the serpent from the netflix series arcane by riot games! highly recommend watching if you haven’t :) 

secondly, this fic contains HEAVY HEAVY spoilers and references to ‘beyond cloudfall’ - sylus’s second myth set, which i’ve also linked above. if you haven’t done those and care about spoilers, i would not recommend reading this. also it won’t make as much sense if you don’t know what happened in those myths, but the smut still makes sense re: sylus is a dragon. 

please enjoy <3 i will admit this was really difficult for me to finish, i don’t know what it was, i lost steam half way through and really had to force myself. i am not 100% happy with the way it turned out, but i also did really enjoy writing it! i think i cried multiple times writing this lmao

will likely be on a writing hiatus. if i do write it will be for caleb :D until next time friends. i love you <3

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

♫ I've held on for as long as I can, For the ones that I had to defend, I've been strong every day of my life, If she wants, death could take me this time. ♪ 

♪ This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow, I used to have strength, but I ran out of hope, I know it's my fault that I'm here all alone, This world is a wasteland, Please let me go, go, go, go, go, go, go. ♫

♫ If I could just lay my head down and rest, If there was nothing to fight or protect, Maybe then I could finally be free, Maybe death is like falling asleep. ♪

Hollow requiems echo in the recesses of your numbed soul, overtaken by the howling of the violent wind. Your heels crunch against barren ground, covered in fragments of basalt and granite, a speckled sea of death. 

It was hard to imagine that this very valley was once covered in countless blossoming blood-red datura, peppered across the vast green fields of the meadow. Like the twinkling stars in the open night sky you’d spent many hours staring up at, atop the cliff top lair you briefly called home, years ago. 

The memory of the blooming flowers, nestled against the stark contrast of those powerful ebony horns, the faint notes of requiems once sung under the gleaming moonlight, taunt you as they resonate in your aching mind. Your tail flickers, soul clenching in distaste. 

Or perhaps it was your fragmented, barely-beating, heart. It was hard to tell these days.  

You draw a shaky breath, willing your body to continue forward. It’d been decades since you’d last come here. After the events of the last Doomsday, events that you were all too familiar with, Philos had fallen to chaos and ruin. Tarus City was no exception.

And of course, the meadow had not been spared. 

Guilt gnaws at you, clawing deeper than any beast ever could. The meadow–the resting place of your beloved. Your dragon. 

Sylus.

Of course, it looked a little different now. Nothing like the day he’d pressed his lips to your forehead for the last time, his soul returning to the clouds above.

You stare out into the rolling hills of charred forests, the arid rivers snaking through the canyon like a dragon’s spine. Flecks of ember from the destruction of Doomsday still flit against the winds around you like dancing midnight petals. But there’s no flowers in sight. Not a single one. 

The endless crimson mountain range stretches around you like an aegis, almost as if trying to protect the innocence that was once kept hidden here. A lifetime ago.

What a joke. 

Everything you had ever held dear, ripped from your hands. Flaunted before you, reminding you of how helpless you’d been to fate’s cruel whims. 

♪ This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow. ♫

“What I desire is to live freely and die without regrets.” You’d said that, once upon a time. 

Did you?

If you died tomorrow, could you say you had no regrets?

Your fists clench at your sides, your claws digging into your palms, sure to break skin and draw blood. You knew the answer to that. 

You’d devoted your life to filling countless troves with what treasures remained on the empty husk of Philos and enacting revenge on the members of the Sanctuary and Legion that’d survived Doomsday. Revenge and plunder, just like old times.

The day those horns had dawned from your head, your tail descending from your spine, you’d become one with Sylus. He gave you power; he gave you freedom.

So why now, when you’d accomplished everything you’d always wanted, did your life feel anything but free? 

Everything you thought you’d wanted.

So what did you want now?

“You know, Tarus City can have flowers that bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the sound of his voice in your mind is as clear as the first time you’d heard it in the obsidian chapel. The same moonlit chapel in which you’d promised your souls to one another.  

Lead weighs on your chest as you gaze out at the desolate fields, once a spiritual sanctuary for Sylus and you. Could it ever return to the way it was? Could flowers really bloom here again?

You’d give anything to see just one of those ruby moonflowers again, petals the same shade of scarlet as the eyes you’d dreamt of, time and again. 

But like those beautiful eyes, you knew deep down. You’d never see those daturas again. 

♫ I used to have strеngth, but I ran out of hope. ♪

You resolve yourself to go numb, as you had countless nights before, when dreams alluded you and nightmares sought you. Your body moves mindlessly on its own, your eyes glazed as you watch the cloudless sky above. 

Would Sylus be disappointed if he saw you now? An empty shell of the sorceress that’d unsealed him from the Abyss and freed him in more ways than one. 

Once upon a time, you could put on a brave mask in the face of losing your dragon. 

But over time, the memory of his body, heavy and whole, fading in your arms, the petals of his soul slipping through your trembling fingers, etched itself into your soul. No matter how hard you tried to forget, you’d always remember. And because of that, your courage quickly turned into a searing rage that consumed every fiber of your being.

What would he think?

Well, you’ll never know will you? The voice in your head taunts, unmistakably yours, yet foreign and faraway. 

Since you’re the one who plunged that sword into his heart.

♪ I know it’s my fault that I’m here all alone. ♫

Eventually, you find yourself atop a small clearing overlooking the entire valley. An eerie sense of familiarity grapples at you as you stare out into the horizon, feeling nearly as empty as the land before you. 

You’re not sure when it started to happen. The days started to feel longer. You could no longer hear the melody in songs, see the beauty in patterns, taste the flavors in fruits you once loved. 

All things unnecessary to a dragon’s survival.

Were you surviving? Your heart was beating, blood coursed through your veins, air traveled through your lungs, and yet…

You didn’t feel alive.

♫ This world is a wasteland. ♪

The wind howls on, the swirling ash making your eyes prickle. You turn on your heel to leave. There’s nothing left for you here. Nothing but fragments of the life you could’ve had, with Sylus. 

But as the sun melts into the sky, descending into the crimson expanse of mountains, your soul is hit with memories so clear you double over, clutching your shoulder as it throbs.

“Only you and this flower…can touch me here.”

You stifle a sob, your other hand coming up to cover your mouth as you stare out into the bittersweet dusk. The way the waning light descends the scarlet contours, perfectly framing the once picturesque grove. And then it hits you, all at once like a wave crashing against you, pulling you under, until you can’t breathe. 

This is the exact spot Sylus had taken you to the first time he’d brought you to the Abyss Meadow. After the night you’d promised your souls to one another.

The exact spot he’d let you weave those same delicate daturas into his horns, grimacing adorably the entire time as you did so. Where you rolled around the meadow grasses in his willful arms, revenge and the Sanctuary a long forgotten thought, just you and your dragon. 

The spot he’d kissed you for the very first time. The first of what you’d thought would be a lifetime of kisses shared with him. 

Where you’d shared yourselves wholly, bodies and soul, every touch a promise, every kiss a vow. 

The mark on your shoulder burns, your vision hazing with tears that you’re not sure you can blame on the ash anymore. Clenching your eyes shut, you blink them away, trying to steel your resolve and push the memories back down, where you’d kept them hidden for decades. 

♪ I'm not ready to face it. ♫

But they rattle violently in the cage you’d built for them, your spirit is unrelenting. Or perhaps, it’s the remnants of his own soul etched into yours that refuse to let you fade completely into the darkness. 

♫ Don't go saying goodbye. ♪

Eventually the branding waves of agony that radiated from the bite thrum to a pulsing halt, replaced with a heat that was all too familiar. You finally crack open your teary eyes, your vision filled with the breathtaking canvas of sunset. 

The colors cast the withered meadow in the same breathtaking glow from that day.

♫ There's a beauty in changes, and I wanna try. ♪

–

Red.

Growing up in the Ivory City, you were surrounded by nothing but the blinding incandescence of white marble that was said to symbolize purity and prosperity. On the other hand, the children of the Sanctuary had been conditioned to associate the color red with Doomsday, the Fiend, and death.

But as the flecks of vermillion heat sparkled in Sylus’s eyes, his sultry gaze flickering to your lips, you knew you’d never known a color so beautiful.

“But only for one person,” he murmurs, claws gently gripping your neck, his other hand stroking the datura he’d placed behind your ear. Sylus takes a second to admire the delicate flower, imagining Tarus City covered in them. And you, among them, serenading those familiar requiems for him. 

His hooded eyes meet yours again, and a low growl elicits from his chest as his body is overcome with a burning need to claim you. His beloved.

“Sylus…” you plead breathily, squirming under his gaze and shifting atop him, still straddling him in the field of blooming red moonflowers. Sylus hisses, his slackened jaw twitching and his claws digging into your chin, bringing you closer.

“You had better watch yourself, my little sorceress,” Sylus purrs dangerously, fighting to maintain control, “I should warn you–”

Your heart hammers, pounding audibly in your ears, as Sylus pulls you the rest of the distance in. His bottom lip grazes against yours as his eyes flutter shut, his breath hot and sweet, “I don’t have the patience to wait any longer.”

He wastes no time before furiously crashing his lips to yours, claiming what was his. His claws are deliciously possessive as they trace your racing pulse, savoring the way your body  trembles under his touch. 

You moan into his open lips when his fingers softly wrap around your neck, the tips of his ebony talons tracing soft patterns into your skin. He smirks against your lips, taking the opportunity to push his hot tongue against yours, tasting every inch of you.

The world around you fades away, your senses filled with only him. You can vaguely feel his tail wrapping around your thigh, the tip stroking the bare skin of your calf as you tightly clutch his hips. 

The raw passion of his tongue against yours makes it feel as if he’s nearly breathing fire into your soul, his body growing more demanding as he feels your heat pulse against the growing bulge in his pants. The intoxicating smell of your arousal nearly sends him into a frenzy, and it takes everything within him to not throw you under him right then and there. 

When you finally pull away to breathe, you’re a panting blushing mess. Sylus on the other hand only smirks up at you, his frustratingly beautiful face lightly dusted in a peachy sheen. Overcome with the urge to wipe the smug look off his face, you brush your thumb across his kiss-bitten bottom lip, forcefully resituating yourself on his lap. You bite back your grin when he hisses, his claws digging into the fat of your hips.

“What did you mean, when you said ‘you couldn’t wait any longer’?” you tease, fueled with confidence as you watch his vermillion eyes darken, the muscles of his abdomen tensing as your hands trace their way down his body. When your fingers graze the blood-red gem embedded in his chest, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist, his grip firm yet tender.

He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing your palm into his lips, “Do you really need me to say it?”

You bat your eyelashes innocently at him, pouting, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sylus’s chest rumbles as he chuckles, his eyes gleaming mischievously. His eyes never leave yours, the heated desire in them making the arousal between your legs increase, as he kisses your fingertips one by one.

“Dragons are solitary,” he says, kissing the pad of each finger. His tail uncoils from your thigh, only to loosely wrap around your waist, reminding you of how the mountain cat would twist its tail around your ankle.

“We grow up together, in packs,” his words are melancholic, as if remembering a painful memory, but when his ruby eyes return to yours they shine as bright as the waning sun above you, “But when we reach adulthood, we tend to go off on our own.” 

You pondered his words, waiting for him to go on and doing your best to swallow the lump of emotions that’d formed in your throat at the thought of Sylus, alone for centuries. He nips at your fingers, his tongue coming out to lick tenderly at your skin. 

The swirling heat in his crimson orbs are shadowed under his thick eyebrows, the very eye you’d been so drawn to boring into your newly intertwined souls. 

“Can you recall what that human said that day at the market? The merchant?”

You nod curiously, biting back the shiver as Sylus continues to lick at your skin, daring further and letting his canines graze you, “Yes. That the Fiend would meet his destined archnemesis once more.”

His hands abandon yours, settling instead around your waist. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he beckons you down towards him, the corners of his lips quirking upward as he watches you squirm, a faint gasp escaping your parted mouth when his claws inch their way up your exposed back.

“Archnemesis…” he scoffs cryptically, pushing your body down against his chest, wrapping his thick arms around your smaller body, “Such a foolish human concept.”

Sylus shifts so that you’re lying completely on top of him, his tail securing you against his heavy abdomen, the unmistakable outline of something large and terrifying pressed against your core. 

“Fate binds souls together–it’s written in the cosmos far above the clouds before the existence of time. Two souls that are a reflection of each other, in enmity and devotion. It’s much more than a mere destined archnemesis. This is the way of the world.”

The weight of his words begins to dawn on you, the meaning of them pressing heavily on your thundering heart. Sylus presses his lips to the mark he’d left on your shoulder in what felt like a lifetime ago.

“Ngh–!” you cry, Sylus’s teeth sinking into you. He bites down, tail constricting around you, wanting to hold you closer–tighter. You squirm against him, fingers pulling at his silver tresses, nearly seeing white as the pleasure and pain simultaneously shoots out from the crook of your neck, ebbing into every nerve of your body.

You can feel Sylus’s smug smile against your throbbing skin, his own hips coming up to grind torturously against you. He’d grown painfully hard, his cock unbearably hard in the restraints of his pants, fighting its way to get to you.

“Dragons live in solitude for the remainder of their lives,” he continues, his lips suddenly at your ear as you’re panting into his hard chest, trying to control your pathetic moans, “But some are fortunate enough to find–what you humans might call–their soulmates.”

Sylus grabs your jaw, forcing you to focus your hazy eyes on his. Though his grip is bruising, his thumb strokes soothing circles into your skin.

“A dragon mates for eternity, in this life and the next. There is only one–if even that.”

“Archnemesis, soulmate, mate. Call it what you will,” he whispers huskily, the desire in his voice palpable as he brings your chin in, his eyes darkening with a mix of lust and adoration. Your chest flutters as you take in the implication of Sylus’s words. The puzzle pieces of your fractured life began to fall into place–the Sanctuary, the weapon inside you, the golden lamp you’d treasured. Everything.

“I have known your soul was destined for mine, long before you pulled that Gods-forsaken sword out of my chest,” Sylus growls, nearly feral as the last of his patience snaps. You dissolve into a fit of squeals as Sylus effortlessly flips you under him, his hands cupping the back of your head and your lower back protectively as your body hits the plush meadow grass. 

“And I can’t wait a moment longer.”

He wastes absolutely no time in bringing your lips to his once more, swallowing your moans and replacing them with his own heated breath. Your hands claw at any part of Sylus they can reach, nails leaving behind a red trail of passion that makes him groan with excitement. 

Possessed with the need for more, you wrap your thighs around his waist, using your legs to cage him against you. Sylus’s grip in your hair tightens as he pulls away, a string of saliva  connecting your feverishly panting lips. His other hand comes down to clutch your thigh, his fingers crawling under your dress. 

“Y/N. Do you know what you’re doing?” he pants, chest heaving, pupils blown with a lust so dangerous that your instincts are screaming at you to run. You bring your hands up to cup his face, mustering up all your courage.

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering as you trail your fingers down his chest, resting them right above his belt and letting your fingernails delicately stroke the hair that leads to his pelvis. 

A primal snarl erupts from Sylus’s chest at your blatant teasing, and in the blink of an eye you find your wrists bound above your head, his thick tail wrapped around them like a rope, his knee forcing your thighs apart.

“Just so you know, my love,” he leans in, face inches from yours, his arrogant smile hauntingly beautiful and terrifying all at once. He dips into the crook of your neck, heated breath washing over your mark, “Dragons are not known to show mercy.”

“I can handle it, Sylus,” you retort defiantly, though your trembling voice almost betrays you. Sylus only chuckles, his eyes glinting wildly at you, swirling with the darkness of all the things he wants to do to you.

“That’s my girl.” 

You’re unable to speak further, crying out when Sylus’s fingers, that’d found their way under the skirt of your dress, demandingly cup your leaking sex, his lips latching onto the burning mark on your shoulder once more.

His tongue on your neck alone is enough to have you writhing under him, begging and pleading for more. The pleasure is so overwhelmingly blinding that your eyes are squeezed shut, body convulsing involuntarily to even his gentlest touches. You’d surmise that it must’ve had something to do with what he’d said about your fate bonded souls, that made your body react so violently to his. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t let you ponder it further, his finger dipping in between your dripping core to snap your attention back to him. 

“Are you still with me, sweetheart?” he coos, brushing his middle finger up and down your weeping slit, careful to only brush against you with his calloused skin, keeping his claws tucked away. You glare up at him, weakly slapping his forearm that was wedged between your shaking thighs. You open your mouth to snark at him, but Sylus uses that moment to stroke your clit with the pointed edge of his talon. 

“Sylus!” you cry, halfway between a moan and a scream, “Ahhngh–p-please!”

“Mmm? What’s that?” Sylus murmurs, twitching his fingers to ever-so-slightly caress your aching clit with his claws. “Begging for more already?”

Your back lifts off the ground, the feeling of his fingers on your cunt so sharp and dizzying that your mind is caught between wanting to squirm away but needing to chase more. But it seems your body knows exactly what it wants, arching further into his hand, forcing his fingers further into you.

Your hands come up to grasp the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair and gently stroking the base of his jagged ebony horns. Sylus freezes, his jaw tightening, a choked grunt escaping him, despite how badly he tries to hold it back. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Sylus?” you whisper incredulously, your fingers pausing, “Does that hurt?”

Sylus doesn’t answer, his breath coming out in shallow and needy pants, eyes shut as he hovers above you. His fingers have stilled, though still between your folds. Your worry dissipates when your eyes drift down, trailing down his trembling abdomen, all the way to the lump in his lap that ruts desperately against your thigh.

It’s then you realize that your formidable dragon does indeed have a weakness. 

How adorable.

So with Sylus’s finger still parting your soaked lips, you use one hand to tenderly grab one of his horns, the other hand coming down to palm his bulge. His reaction makes you bite your lip with satisfaction, as his knees nearly buckle, still hovering above you, and his eyes filling with a volatile hunger. 

“You never learn do you?” he bites out, but he doesn’t pull away, his body only leaning further into your touch. His head nuzzles ever so slightly into your fingers that are still intertwined into his hair, stroking his horns.

“I would say I’m faring quite well, wouldn’t you agree?” you croon, emboldened by the way his hips thrust down into your open palm, even if only imperceptibly. 

At your adorably bold words, Sylus smirks at you, head cocked in amusement. His red eyes glimmer, a thick cloud of predatory desire swirling in the pools of garnet.

“You shouldn’t taunt a dragon, my love.”

You shriek when Sylus’s finger enters you, claw and all. You’re so wet that the brief sting of his lethal talon only serves to intensify the overwhelming waves of ecstasy he’s so deliberate in giving you. His finger moves so intentionally inside you, careful to only use the tip of his claw in ways that will have you clenching him for more. 

Sylus swears under his breath as he watches the way you writhe against the ruby flora, his erection growing unbearably painful and wet within the constraints of his pants. 

Dragons may not have the ability to recognize beauty. But as you clung to him, nails digging into his skin, sweet voice only capable of calling out for him, your wide eyes fluttering open and shut in overwhelming ecstasy…

Sylus knew there was nothing more beautiful in this world.

“Sy-Sylus,” you cry, “It’s t-too much. C-can’t–!” The dangerous feeling of his claws inside you is starting to make you delirious, your head dizzy with the need to come undone all over his fingers. The foreign pressure in your abdomen scares you into trying to scamper away from his hand, finger flicking inside your constricting walls

“Hm? Don’t you trust me sweetheart? I know exactly how much my little dragoness can take,” he murmurs gruffly, his thumb pressing harder into you. It seems Sylus knows exactly what he’s doing to you, because his tail wraps firmly around your waist, locking you in place, demanding you receive every bit of him. 

“You can take another, hm?” he asks, but his tone all but commands it. 

Your eyes widen; honestly you don’t think you can. Just one of his fingers has you feeling like you might pass out from the unfamiliar feelings of pleasure. Just one of his fingers has you feeling so full you might combust. 

He’s on his knees between your legs now–the juxtaposition of such a formidable being kneeling before, pleading for your pleasure, makes your body clench with even more anticipation.

“D-don’t know if I ca-aan,” you whimper brokenly, body still pathetically arching into his hands, chasing an ecstasy you don’t even know if you can handle. 

Sylus tuts gently, “Tch–you can. I need to stretch you out here before anything else can happen.”

You shiver at his words, trusting the foreboding warning wholeheartedly. Sylus was a dragon, after all, and you had no doubt he would be well-endowed, like everything else about him. Probably much more than your poor human body would be able to take. 

And the thought of that alone makes you crave him like nothing before.

So you nod slowly, and Sylus smiles, the pride evident in his eyes. 

“Good girl.”

Sylus tips your chin up towards him with the tip of his claw, capturing your lips into a kiss that steals your breath away. At the same time, he slips another finger into you.

He swallows your cries, and your fingers frantically grab hold of the grass around you, tearing and shredding at the green blades. If it weren’t for his tail wrapped around your waist, holding you in place, you’d be thrashing wildly, the ecstasy of his two fingers and claws inside your plush walls nearly unbearable. 

Sylus’s nips at your lips, before his tongue replaces them and stakes claim to every inch of your mouth. He groans into you, using his spare hand to palm his painful erection, still restrained in the confines of his pants. When he pulls away, saliva dribbles down your chin, his lips trailing kisses down your jaw and to the shell of your ear.

“So tight around just my fingers,” Sylus seethes hungrily, his hand moving faster now, breath coming out shallow and hot against your ear, “I’m the only one that’s ever been here, hm?”

He curls his fingers inside you, his claws grazing just slightly against the spongy surface of your walls, demanding a verbal response from you. His voice drips with a possessive intensity that makes your entire body throb. 

“Of course,” you whine, slightly embarrassed as your body arches up to meet his hand's ministrations, close to coming undone, “Wh-When would I have…at the Sanctuary…?” 

A deep and satisfied rumble of satisfaction comes from Sylus’s chest, as he buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. Almost like a purr.

“Mine.”

With two of his fingers scissoring in and out of you, stretching you out to your max, you quickly feel like you’re about to absolutely burst, the edges of your vision turning white, stars clouding your sight. 

“Ngghnh–Syluus…” you slur, your eyes watering, slightly terrified, “C-can’t anymore. Feels like m’gonna explode–!”

Sylus growls excitedly, fingers moving more insistently, literally trying to pull the orgasm out of you. The sounds of his palm slapping against dripping pussy grow louder and louder, all your senses overwhelmed until you’re on the verge of losing consciousness to it all.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Sylus praises, his canines at your earlobes, his own voice tinged with a primal hunger that’s barely held back by a thin string of restraint, “Cum for me, just like that.”

Though his words are simple, there’s an underlying command that lies just beneath the surface. Sylus would never stoop as low as to beg for anything, dragons were incredibly prideful beings after all, but more than anything he needed to see you cum, right now–for the very first time. Something he’d imagined more times he’d care to admit, on the many late nights you’d shared looking up at the moon after a journey of ravaging and plundering treasures. 

So instead of begging, Sylus sinks his teeth into the brand on your shoulder, once again laying his claim on you. Your sweet taste fills his mouth and he can’t stop the muffled moan that escapes him, devouring you to his absolute content, fingers never faltering once. 

Your eyes roll into your head at the indescribable sensation of pain and pleasure that surge from your neck, the shockwaves connecting with the same spasms of ecstasy that emanate from his fingers buried in your cunt. 

“Sy-Sylus—! Ngh–It’s c-coming!” you can’t stop yourself from screaming unabashedly, though it didn’t matter as Sylus made sure there wouldn’t be anyone for miles and miles, for this very reason. 

He doesn’t respond, alternating between biting and licking affectionately–aggressively–at the place he had marked you as his. His tail tightens around you, making you feel so deliciously suffocated, in the best ways. Making it feel like your very life depended on him.

Your next breath of air, your unrelenting pleasure, your soul. 

Sylus, Sylus, Sylus. 

With a strangled cry of his name, you feel the foreign sensation of a tension cord snapping in your gut, followed by a warm gush of mind numbing euphoria that consumes your entire quivering body.

Sylus swears under his breath, his fingers slowing but not stopping, helping you ride out the lasting waves of your very first orgasm. He releases your tender skin from his teeth, his hot breath blowing against you. His claws capture your chin between them, gently pulling your head back down to meet his eyeline. 

“Look at the mess you’ve made, Y/N,” Sylus hums, slipping his fingers out of you and lifting them so you can clearly see the way they’re dripping with something clear and wet. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

“It’s not m’fault,” your voice comes out annoyingly shaky, still recovering from the earth-shattering experience. You swat his hands away weakly, “Stop. S’embarrassing.” 

Sylus chuckles, letting you push his hands back towards him. But he tenses suddenly, the thick muscles of his arms locking. The planes of his sharp jaw twinge, his entire body rigid, like he’d just been struck by lightning. 

“Sylus?” you whisper, sitting up and cupping his cheek into your palm, “What’s wrong?”

Sylus’s eyes are locked onto his fingers, his nostrils twitching. You’re mortified when Sylus brings his fingers to his face, his movements almost trancelike. 

“Don’t do that,” you protest, eyes wide, moving to grab his wrist. But Sylus dodges you easily, swiftly removing his arm from your grasp, the smell of you on his fingers intoxicating him to the point of madness. The sheer primal hunger in his blood-red eyes is so far away, you almost don’t recognize him. 

You’re acutely aware that you’re currently no more than a little rabbit trapped in a lion’s den. If it weren’t for the way his tail still wrapped around your waist so tenderly, you’d think he was the same Fiend that nearly lost himself and killed you that day. 

Sylus doesn’t speak, his chest heaving erratically as he brings his fingers up to his lips, tongue catching every rivulet of your slick. His pupils dilate, locked onto you, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the carmine pools, his primal instincts nearly taking control. One thing swims to the surface above them all. 

Hunger.

In a fraction of a second, you find yourself pinned to the grassy floor again, your head thudding to the ground against Sylus’s protective hand. Your wrists are bound above your head, with one of your thighs held open by Sylus’s tail and the other with his knee. His lips are everywhere, first at your neck, then down your shoulder, lingering at your mark, then trailing down your collar, to your breasts. 

“Mm–ngh! Sylus?” you can hardly speak as he lingers at the swell of your chest, “What are you doing?” 

“I can taste you,” he hisses, reaching your naval. You can vaguely recall the conversation you’d had with him awhile back–that dragons couldn’t understand a song’s melody or see the beauty in patterns.

Taste the flavors in food.

“More,” is all he’s capable of biting out, before prying your thighs apart. Of course, Sylus had no idea what it meant for something to taste sweet, how the burgundy jewels of the pomegranates you loved so much tasted. But if he had to take a guess…

They’d be nothing compared to the honey he had found between your legs. 

“But–I thought dragons c-couldn’t…ah–!” you trail incredulously, yelping as Sylus hooks one of his arms under your knees, sweeping you briefly off the ground so he can yank your skirt off in one swift motion. 

You’re left in only your drenched undergarments, skirt thrown somewhere to the side as Sylus resumes his relentless journey into your inner thighs, leaving a trail of angry hickeys in his wake. 

“We can’t,” Sylus pants into you, suckling on the soft plush of your thighs, eyeing the glistening folds of your cunt that peek through your sodden panties like his next prey. He’s so close that you can feel his hot breath against your core, and it only makes you wetter. 

“But apparently I can taste this.”

The moan you let out is more beautiful than any melody you could ever sing for him, as his mouth closes over your clit, tongue wedging between your slicked lips.

“W-Wait Sylus, m’sensitive!” you protest, still coming down from the way he’d just made your body explode minutes earlier, your core quivering against the heavy demand of his lips. But as you sit up on your elbows and peer down at the silver-haired dragon between your legs, taking one look at Sylus, you know there is absolutely no getting through to him. 

Sylus has his mouth latched onto you, like he’s trying to drink your essence right from the source. His nose is buried right beneath your clit, every slightest movement causing the strong ridges to brush against the taut bundle of nerves, making it difficult for you to think straight.

You try to sit up further, but Sylus’s large palm comes up to flatten against your stomach, forcing you back down. He looks up at you, eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed, practically glaring at you.

“Don’t deny me of this,” he growls pleadingly, the sheer need in his voice making your toes curl against the grass.

The strength of his hand has you flopping back down, your body already succumbing to Sylus, yet again. You want to curse your traitorous body as it grinds into his greedy mouth, your mind battling your body’s instinct to chase the feelings that only Sylus can seem to give you. 

Why not just give in? That’s what Sylus had been teaching you, right? 

Live freely and die without regrets.

You grab two fistfulls of Sylus’s soft silver hair, pulling him impossibly closer to the apex of your thighs, shivering as he moans into you. His thick arms wrap around your thighs, holding on greedily, claws digging in.

“I should punish you for keeping this from me,” Sylus pants, pulling away for a brief second, giving you a pointed smirk. He uses his thumb to wipe the sheen of your arousal from his bottom lip.

“You can’t always get what you want Sylus. Sometimes you have to work for it,” you quip breathlessly, reeling from the sudden lack of his warm and wet tongue. 

Sylus chuckles, dark and rich. The dangerous glint in his ruby eyes is one that is all too familiar to you. Your skin crawls, pebbling with goosebumps, and before you can scamper away from him, his fingers come down with a resounding wet ‘smack’ against your unsuspecting cunt.

“Sy-Sylus!” you cry, halfway between a screech and a moan, your body convulsing into a painful arch as it reaches up to meet his palm. Sylus uses that moment to hook his other hand under your back, lifting your body up with one arm, and hoisting you into the air.

You flail as he swings you around, pulling at his hair until you grasp his horns. Sylus hisses, and you find yourself back on the soft grass matted floor. But this time you’re on your knees, straddling Sylus’s face.

“Sylu–ngh!” your eyes widen when his tongue licks at your slit, “P-Please! This is embari-ngh-sing!” It’s impossible to get your words out coherently when his tongue is moving so insistently, trying to drain every drop of your essence.

He digs his claws into the tops of your thighs, trying to pull you down, despite the way you fight to keep yourself propped up on your heels.

“Don’t resist,” he tuts, his voice muffled and rough, “Sit, love.”

”No!” you protest petulantly, sobbing in ecstasy as he sucks down hard on your clit, as if punishing you for your disobedience, “I’m heavy. Don’t wanna squash you.”

“Do you truly think so little of me?” he scoffs, positively offended, his breath warm against your core, “Sit. Now.”

You bite your lip in uncertainty as you stay hovering above him. Sylus remains patient, indulging himself instead by sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your inner thighs. You tremble, nearly doubling over as he suckles on your leg, biting a trail of flowery bruises leading up to your core.

You remain stubbornly, but shakingly, upright. Sylus sighs, losing his patience completely and yanking you down by your thighs, leaving you with no choice but to completely fall onto his waiting mouth.

Your eyes roll back, knees buckling entirely, when Sylus’s tongue enters you, stretching you out over his overeager lips. Your entire body nearly gives out, as you fall forward, your hands barely coming out in time to catch you before you collide with the meadow floor.

But when your palms are supposed to meet the grassy floor, Sylus catches them instead, your fingers intertwining desperately. The tips of his claws stroke your burning skin, terribly soothing compared to the way his tongue was ravishing you so filthily.

Your body reacts to him so readily, your hips starting to grind down almost instinctively, much to Sylus’s satisfaction. His cock twitches, heart nearly pounding through the veins that bulge along the sides, at the idea of you using him for yourself. He hums in pleasure, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit and whispering, “That’s it sweetheart, take what you want from me.”

His words make you squirm. Your hands card through Sylus’s soft silver locks, grabbing hold of his ebony horns for leverage. Sylus growls at your core, the vibrations of his low rumble making you writhe and grind harder onto his lips, your body being pushed toward another explosive release. 

“Hah, c-can’t anymore!” you cry, gripping his horns tighter, riding his face for dear life. Sylus doesn’t speak, but his enthusiastic tongue wordlessly conveys his words for him.

You might not be able to, but you will.

Your thighs cling to him, hips rolling into him with wild abandon. Everything about him, his honeyed words, his expert tongue, his possessive fingers make your body desperate for more, to take everything it wants. You’re so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t notice the way Sylus is likewise losing his mind beneath you. 

The way you grip his unbearably sensitive horns makes him jerk with need, the taste of your arousal a never ending drug on his tongue. Above all, the way you rode him, the way your body sought exactly what it desired, the way you surrendered to desire, to him, in this moment. 

You truly were the other half of his soul.  

“O-Oh go–od Sylus!” you moan brokenly, your voice hoarse from the incessant cries, bordering on screams, for him. Your thumbs dig into where his horns meet his scalp, your chest heaving violently as you try to stay upright on his tongue, coming undone across his eagerly waiting lips.

Sylus growls in relief, his enthusiasm bordering on obsession. His tongue laps up every honeyed drop, savoring a taste he knew he’d become all too addicted to. Luckily for him, he’d have you for the rest of eternity. And he fully intended on tasting you, devouring you, every day of his life. 

As you start to climb off his face, Sylus grabs you before you can crawl onto the floor, away from him. He carries you as delicately as he would the blooming daturas that surround you, laying you before him, settling between your parted thighs. 

“Sylus,” you murmur breathlessly, looking up at him. The waning sun peeks out behind his head, the sky a sunset sorbet that is beginning to melt into the indigo of approaching night. With the fading sun behind him, he is an utterly devastating sight for sore eyes. 

You loop your arms around his neck, dragging him down to you. He grunts, letting himself be pulled down to you, a ghost of a smile on his kiss bitten lips.

“I want…” you murmur hoarsely, trailing off as you let your fingers fall, tracing the muscles of his chest, drifting further south until they are grazing the defined contours of his abdomen. 

Sylus’s fingers grasp your chin, bringing your eyes back up, where you meet his fiery gaze. His thumb presses into your bottom lip, prying your mouth open gently. 

“Go on, my dove,” he hums, his voice practically a purr as he presses the lethal tip of his claw onto your tongue, “Tell me what it is you want.”

You open your lips to speak but between your sore throat, parched from your incessant moans, and the foreign desire still growing in both your gut and your heart, you were far too ashamed to speak further. But with the way Sylus was staring at you, his right eye flickering dangerously, you knew he could see right into your soul. 

Sylus’s lips turn up into an absolute shit-eating smirk, his beautiful deep garnet irises gleaming with a rich amusement. 

“Can’t speak anymore?” he chuckles amusedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“That’s alright,” he murmurs, his voice taking on a snarl that’s simultaneously dangerously edged yet velveteen. The ends of his claws trace your pulse as his fingers venture down, making your breath hitch. You shiver, giddy at the idea that those very talons, that were capable of such destruction, were now caressing you with so much tender passion.

“All you’ll need to be able to say is Sylus, hm?”

You light absolutely ablaze at his filthy words, your stomach churning in anticipation at what you know is coming. What you want more than anything you’ve ever known. 

His fingers, that’d found their way to the swell of your chest, shred the delicate straps of your corset with the slightest flick of his claws. You squeal as your naked body is exposed to the elements, writhing as the wind nips at your bare skin.

“Hey!” you protest hoarsely, sitting up, your arms darting to wrap around your chest, “Was that really necessary?!” But of course, Sylus is far quicker than you. He catches your wrists easily, holding them in his hands, leaving you beautifully exposed before his hungry eyes.

“No,” he smirks cheekily, face coming inches from yours, his breath fanning across your lips. You glare at him in annoyance, which only makes his grin widen.

“Now it’s my turn to take what I want,” he murmurs, pushing you flat against the grass. With your hands still restrained against his palm, he kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of claiming bruises along the way. 

“Beautiful. The truest treasure,” he rasps between kisses. He lingers on the mark on your shoulder, not being able to help but to indulge himself there.

A stream of unabashed moans escape your lips as Sylus bites down, hard. So hard you think he might draw blood. His canines are so close to your pulse; your instincts scream at you to flee, but your soul forces you to stay. 

Pain and pleasure, it was all the same. If Sylus was giving it, you wanted it.

This is the man fate had destined for you. Your dragon.

And you fully intended to show him that as well. 

With his head at your shoulder, his own neck exposed to you, you couldn’t help but press your lips into his pulse. Sylus tenses in surprise, unwittingly sensitive, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, his body bucks into yours, his pelvis pressing into you, as if desperately seeking something from you.  

“You never learn do you, my little sparrow?” he bites out, his voice rough and raspy. Despite his words, he doesn’t pull away in the slightest. You smile into his neck and gently sink your teeth into his soft skin, desperate to mark him in the same way he’d marked you.

Sylus's breath grows erratic against you, his chest heaving unsteadily. His hands come up to hold you possessively against him, his powerful tail coils around your arched waist, like you might disappear at any second. Your fingers thread into his hair, hooking onto his horns again, as you continue to kiss into his neck. 

But suddenly, Sylus is yanking himself away from you, his tail prying you off of him. 

“Too much?” you mumble apologetically as you watch him straighten up, waiting for him to settle back down. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he props himself onto his knees, focussed and dangerous. Like a predator before the hunt. 

“No. It’s not enough.”

With that, he’s undoing the buckle of his belt, his darkened eyes never leaving yours. You can’t help but bite your lip as you watch the bulging veins of his forearms, his hand reaching into his undone pants. Sylus looks devastatingly handsome as he undresses himself before you, eyeing you like his next meal. 

You don’t get to see him pull himself out before Sylus is back on you, his lips fervently attacking yours. You don’t know what’s changed, because the Sylus that’s kissing you right now has completely thrown restraint to the wind, like he’s trying to claim every fiber of your being with this one kiss.

His body is so imposing atop yours that, even naked, you feel nothing but warm and safe in the evening breeze. He’s so close, you can feel his eyelashes on your cheek. But you can’t stop pulling him closer, moaning in satisfaction when he holds you bruisingly tighter. 

Still, you want more of him.

Your hand inches down to grasp his manhood in your fingers, pulling away from the kiss with a choke. Being a dragon, you had no doubt that Sylus would be larger than what you’d been told was average from the other women at the Sanctuary. As soon as your fingers make contact, Sylus’s tail is roped around your wrist, the thick scales digging into your burning skin, his eyes filled with a volatile hunger. 

He doesn’t pull you away. His tail wrapped around your wrist seems to be more of a silent warning.

If you continue, there’s no going back.

Sylus’s eyes follow you carefully, his right eye shining as he seems to read your every whim and wonder. Every doubt, every fear, every fantasy. 

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he coos reassuringly, reading your mind like the back of his hand, thumb catching a stray tear you hadn’t even known had fallen, “I’ve more than prepared you.”

You eye him skeptically, taking a deep breath, peering down at where your bodies are firmly pressed together. Your breath hitches at how pathetically small your hand looks wrapped around him, his erection as beautiful as it was terrifying.

How many fingers had you been able to take earlier? Two?

You were fucked. Literally. 

“Y/N,” Sylus calls, his voice taking on a tender warmth that you rarely heard from him, clearly able to read your nervousness. 

He grips your chip and tilts your face back up to meet his eyes. Hoisting you up by your waist, he sets you on his lap so that you’re straddling him, wrapping your legs around his hips. His cock stands proudly, arousal smearing all over your bare navel, brushing against your clit as he presses you so deeply into his body that it rests between your leaking folds. Fitting like a puzzle piece. 

“I have waited over a millennium for this. For you. I can wait a millennium more, until you’re ready.”

Your body immediately reacts to his profoundly heartfelt words, your chest constricting and your core fluttering. It’s not hard to decide what you want, right then and there.

“I trust you, Sylus,” you say firmly, voice still raspy and hoarse, “I want you. Please.”

Sylus curses under his breath. One forearm wraps around your ass, lifting you and his other hand angling himself so that his thick leaking head is nudging right at your entrance, begging to be inside you. You writhe at the friction, your hips rocking onto him on instinct. 

The silver haired man growls, arms tightening around you like a vice, “You drive me insane, Y/N,” he rasps into your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

At long last, he presses himself into you. Crying out, your nails dig into his shoulders, sure to break skin. The discomfort was immeasurable, your body wildly confused by the intense pain but the strange feeling of intimacy. 

“I don’t think I can–I can’t!” your hips locking, eyes welling with tears. The stretch was beyond anything you could have ever fathomed, and you were almost sure he would break you.

“You can, you can,” he soothes, almost desperately, like he was terrified you might ask him to stop. Every muscle in his body was locked and tense as he fought the urge to ram right into you, ravaging you like every instinct was telling him to do. 

With even just the tip barely inside, he knew this was far too dangerous. The feeling of you wrapped around him was far too addicting, one of few things that threatened to make him lose all humanity to the untamed dragon blood flowing through his veins. 

You always were his one weakness. 

The urgency, the desperation, in his voice makes your tummy flutter, your body tightening in response to him.

Sylus hisses, his tail constricting around your waist, claws digging into the fat of your hips, “Don’t tighten up. Not if you want me to be gentle.”

“Am I?” you moan as he shifts, sinking slightly more into you, “M’sorry Sy. D-didn't mean to.”

A low rumble ripples from his chest as he does his best not to slam you down the rest of the way down onto the hilt of his cock. Which was nearly impossible because every time he moved at all, he swore your pussy was trying to choke him out. 

“Is it all the way in yet?” you whisper, fighting to keep your voice level. You had never felt more full in your life, your gut on the verge of splitting. The pain and since dulled into a somewhat bearable ache, but it was by no means comfortable. 

“Half way, love,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. 

Your eyes widen in shock, “W-What?!” You look down between your bodies, and sure enough, Sylus was still hoisting you halfway above his impossibly massive member. There’s a faint smear of red across the sheen of your combined arousals. Your blood. 

Before you can speak further, Sylus presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath as his own. He swallows your moans, his tongue and cock simultaneously sinking further into you.

A string of saliva connects your lips when he pulls away, his fingers tenderly holding your chin, his darkened scarlet eyes piercing into yours. His right eye glimmers with a dangerous edge. 

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he rasps, still hanging onto his last thread of his control, “You can take it all, can’t you? Perfect little mate.”

Your chest and core simultaneously flutters at his words and you’re fueled with a newfound confidence and an overwhelming wave of lust. It really seemed that Sylus knew exactly what to say to you to have you wanting more. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you roll your hips, trying to inch your own way down him, practically able to feel his pulsing veins throbbing against your gummy walls. The pain from the stretch was still there, but Sylus had prepped you so thoroughly that it was beginning to be difficult to feel anything but good.

“I can take more Sylus,” you murmur into his ear, pressing a wet kiss into his throbbing pulse, “I want more.”

An animalistic snarl rips out from deep within Sylus’s chest. His fingers squeeze literally bruises into your hips as he whispers back into your ear, breath hot and heavy.

“Yeah? That’s my girl,” he rasps, trying to contain his hunger, before lowering you the rest of the onto his cock, seating you entirely on his lap. 

He gives you a second to adjust, licking the tears that had started to stream down your cheek. It quickly feels unnatural, and you’re desperate for some friction, the pressure of him at your cervix too intense. 

“Ngh–Sy-Sylus,” you moan, “Please, move–do something.”

Sylus twitches inside you, your words fueling him with the desire to breed you full of him, “You’re playing with fire, my little dragon.” 

He wraps his thick arms around your body and begins to bounce you up and down on his lap, trying to keep a slow and gentle rhythm, doing his best to ensure you’d be in as little pain as possible.

Of course it didn’t matter, with his sheer size alone, pain was inevitable.

But so was pleasure.

Your body had begun reacting to Sylus all on its own, your hips rolling into Sylus’s sculpted abdomen, trying to pull him deeper into your saccharine heat. 

“Ngh–haah…Sy-Sylus!” you splutter, fingers clawing deep red welts into the ropes of muscles on his back, “Feels…”

His tail tightens around your waist, the tip stroking along your thigh, almost affectionately. His pace grows increasingly more vigorous, more excited, as he watches your face contort in different phases of pain and pleasure, “You feel incredible.”

His words, the feral rasp in his voice, so animalistically raw and primal, makes your entire body clench with excitement. And Sylus can feel all of it, every quiver, every twitch.

“You’re so damn tight,” he bites out, rutting up into you, “Trying to break me?”

“You’re–ngh–s’dramatic,” you tease, weaving your fingers through his hair and stroking his horns. 

Sylus’s tail grips you, his body tensing as you gently provoke the sensitive ebony spurs. You can swear his rhythm falters, but he composes himself instantly. The rough scales lining his muscular tail sink into your skin, leaving beautiful little crescents behind.

“Am I now?” Sylus smirks, his tone warning you that you’ve used up all his mercy. Your cries amplify as Sylus’s intensity picks up, his pelvis slamming into your cheeks. You’re so caught up in the borderline violent thrusts that you don’t notice when Sylus’s head dips down, his lips latching onto your breast.

“Oh Gods,” your voice is hoarse and broken with desire, nearly drowned out by the wet slaps of his body pounding into yours. On the other hand, Sylus’s mouth is deceptively tender, suckling so gently, teeth grazing so intentionally. His coarse fingers pinch the nipple that he can’t attend to with his tongue, all the while still driving himself deep into your gut.

His free hand comes down between your bodies, the slick that had smeared there coating his fingers as he finds your clit, sending your eyes into the back of your head. The valley echoes with a broken record of your combined cries of pleasure and the lewd sound of wet skin colliding.  

“Does every inch of you taste this damn exquisite?” Sylus demands breathlessly when he pulls away from your breasts. The way you felt wrapped around him was making it difficult to control his instincts, needing to remind himself that he needed to be careful with you.

“Hah…only t’you–! Only for you,” you can barely register the words coming out as your ears pound, your vision starting to blur as the same tension you’d felt twice earlier starts to build in again. 

A possessive growl erupts from Sylus’s chest, unable to contain his instincts. But the corners of his lips quirk, a pleased smile gracing his features. 

“Only for me, hm?” he licks a stripe from your neck to the mark on your shoulder making your entire body shudder.

Sylus’s talons dig into your thighs, now using both the strength of his thighs and arms to fuck you relentlessly onto him. Your back arches backward at the sheer force of his body and you use your palms to catch yourself on the ground behind you. Sylus’s tail steadies you, but at this angle he reaches a new depth inside of you, his impossibly thick cockhead roughly caressing a sensitive spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“O-Oh Gods, oh Go-ods! Sylus–!” you chant like a broken prayer, your lower half rolling into Sylus’s lap impulsively, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You use your hands that are planted on the ground behind you to give you leverage, just letting your body do whatever feels right, feels natural.

With every roll of your hips, your clit brushes against the silvery mat of wet hair painting Sylus’s pelvis, making your eyes gloss over with a fucked out bliss that has Sylus nearly coming undone himself.

His eyebrows furrow, red eyes swirling with shadows as he watches you atop his cock, his mate. The distinct outline of him strains against your delicate skin every time he thrusts into you, bulging against your naval. 

Did you have any idea how insane you were driving him right now?

He hooks his hand behind your waist, just one palm enough to cup the small of your back and pull you back to him. He pulls you flush to his body, your bare chest pressed against his, your hearts pounding against one another.

“I’m a selfish man, Y/N,” he rasps into your ear, fighting to not explode into your gummy walls. 

“S’okay,” you cup his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss, “I love that about you. I love you.”

Sylus’s tail tenses, still wrapped possessively around you, your proclamation making him snap. Before you know what’s happening, you find yourself being thrown back onto the grassy floor, Sylus’s hands cupping the back of your head as he sets you on the ground. Somehow, he still finds a way to keep himself snug inside you, unwilling to pull away for even a split second.

“Sylus!” you cry out, half in surprise, half in excitement, as his heavy body presses down onto you, his lips less than an inch from yours, cock nearly in your throat.

“Sweetheart,” he groans, voice coming out unusually…frenzied. 

He truly was a selfish man, in every sense of the word.

“You can take another for me, right?”

“Another?” you squeak when he licks your cheek playfully, tenderly. 

“I’m pretty sure I can…cum–” you flush at the word, still slightly reserved with your newfound sexuality, “–again.”

Sylus chuckles huskily, pressing a soft kiss into your lips, “That’s not what I meant.”

Though he keeps his voice level, he couldn’t keep his heart from hammering erratically in his chest. You felt so indescribably perfect wrapped around him, he couldn't even fathom that it could get better than this.  

You were everything he imagined, and then some. 

You groan when he shifts to his knees, repositioning himself. Sylus moves his hand to grab the base of his length, and you’re about to protest, not wanting him to pull himself out of you. 

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, you feel the odd sensation of something else poking at where he had already had you completely full with his ridiculously thick cock. Something that was grinding against your clit, like he would with his thumb, toying with you as if also trying to get inside you. Something equally, if not more, massive than what was already nestled inside of you. 

There was no way he thought he could possibly fit more inside you.

With your eyes wide, you shakily, address the silver haired man hovering above you, “H-How did I not see that you have t-two?!”

Sylus throws his head back with a breathless laugh, his entire body shaking. He strokes your cheek with the tip of his ebony claws, staring wryly at you with his sparkling crimson eyes.

“The same way I can hide my wings.”

He strokes the leaking tip of his second cock along your clit, making you shiver. You can’t deny how good it feels, and how exhilarating the thought of it is. The way he looks at you, desperate, feral, and with all the intensity a hunter would stare at its prey. 

It makes it impossible for you to think coherently, the lust overpowering all sensibility.

“You can take it,” he coos encouragingly, using his second tip to smear your combined slick around your taut opening, as if preparing you to take him. 

“You could–ngh– barely get one in, what makes you think I’ll be able to take two–!?” you writhe, forcing the words out as Sylus continues to slowly rock into you.

Your squirming only makes you tighten further on Sylus, working him up further. His second cock had hardened to the point of pain, no matter how firmly he stroked it. It needed you, and nothing else could satisfy him. 

The desire on Sylus’s face, on his body, is palpable. You can see the beads of sweat gliding down his sculpted face as he restrains himself, his chest heaving as he tries to lock his instincts away, a dark storm of frustration in his eyes. 

“Oo-kay, I’ll try,” you murmur, hoping to the Gods you’ll live to see another day. Sylus’s carmine eyes light up, a proud grin donning his devilishly handsome features. 

“Good girl.”

He forcefully pounds against you, still only letting his second cock grind against your clit. Every thrust causes it to glide against you, rubbing against the sensitive bud, like he was fucking the lips of your cunt with it.

Your fingers claw at the ground as the anticipation boils, waiting for him to just put it in. 

“Sy–ngah–just do it alr–”

He presses his thumb into your lips, interrupting the beginnings of your frantic rambles.

“Breathe out.”

Just as Sylus’s hips are about to snap against your cheeks again, you feel him finally push himself into you. 

Your eyes go wide, mouth agape, as he stretches you until you fear you may actually pass out. You’re so wet that it doesn’t take much to coax it through the initial stretch. But it still hurts, far worse than when he’d initially penetrated you. 

However there is also far more pleasure than before. The two sensations tug at one another, making your mind reel with tumultuous chaos. A tormenting mixture of ecstasy and torment, threatening to shatter your mind.

“S-Sylus, I-I can’t, s’not gonna fit,” you whimper when the stretch becomes too much. Peering down, you see that you’d taken the entire head of his second cock, and you don’t think you can take any more. 

Sylus groans, his eyes squeezed shut, a storm brewing within him. The feeling of your perfect cunt wrapped around both of his cocks was unlike anything he could have ever imagined, and he was at war with the feral part of himself that was threatening to break free and take you like he was in rut. 

“It will fit, my love,” he soothes tenderly, his fingers rubbing soft circles into your hips.

He bends down, taking your chin in his fingers to pull you in for a kiss. But before your lips meet, he whispers heatedly, eyes overcast with a swirl of inexplicable emotions.

“You were made for me, Y/N. Of course it’ll fit.”

His eyes flicker to your lips, before coming back to your eyes, silently asking for your okay before proceeding. As much as he wanted this, more than anything he wanted you to want it too. 

Your heart swells, core fluttering at his words. Sylus hisses when he feels your walls clenching against him, inadvertently sinking further into you.

Gasping, you pull him the rest of the way towards you, circling your arms around his neck, and pushing your lips onto his. You take that moment to arch into him, letting him push deeper into you, biting down on his lip as he sinks further to the hilt.

Sylus kisses you so fiercely that you don’t even notice that he’s fully inside you, both cockheads pressed as deep as they will possibly go. Just as he claims every inch of you with his tongue, his arousal coats every part of you, marking you from the inside.

He pulls away with a snarl, his entire chest shuddering, a visible sheen of sweat glistening on his muscled body, “Sweetheart, I need to move.”

You nod, eyelashes fluttering as you fight to keep your eyes open, “Mmngh–you can move, Sy. I-I want you to.”

Sylus’s eyes darken, his palm slamming down on the ground beside your head. He’s completely hovering over you now, his lower body pressed so deliciously into you. Like he owned you.

Laid out against the tapestry of blooming datura, you made his heart stutter, his right eye twinging with inexplicable desire. You were more magnificent than any work of art. After 1,600 years walking these lands, Sylus finally knew what beauty was. 

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, slowly pulling out of you before rolling his hips back into you. He’s so deep, stretching you so full, body so heavy on top of yours. You can’t feel anything but him, and it makes you want to come undone all over him again. That sensation in your gut, that you had become all too familiar with, had already built to a near bursting breaking point. 

“Soo deep–angh–s’fuuull,” you slur, graspingf his horns again, stroking them affectionately, letting the rough ebony edges ground you.

“Fuck,” Sylus curses sharply as you grope his sensitive horns, barely able to contain his own moans. His knees nearly buckle, using only his arms to keep him propped up over you. Squeezing his eyes shut, he takes a deep breath, forcing himself to regain his composure.

His hips roll into you like the tides of the ocean, his pace smooth and rhythmic. There’s a filthy wet ‘smack!’ every time his pelvis hammers into you, the ecstasy your bodies create together makes you leak uncontrollably, even so tightly plugged up by both his lengths. 

“Feel me right here, love?” he grounds out, using one hand to press down firmly on the soft plush of your stomach. You squeal when you feel him pushing down on you, forcing your sensitive spots to clamp down on him. With two of his cocks inside you, there’s absolutely no space for that, the pleasure it brings you sharp and overwhelming. 

“Yes-yes—! Please!” you plead, hoping he’ll have mercy on you. He’s driving you closer and closer to another orgasm, and you don’t know if you’ll survive this one. 

Sylus can feel it too, the way your saccharine walls begin to squeeze him so sweetly, your beautiful starry eyes hazing over—too fucked out to focus, your clit hardened to a pebble against the slicked mat of silvery hair dusting his pelvis. 

With you like this under him, mercy is not something he’s interested in. 

In fact, Sylus had never felt like more of a beast than he did now. And the only thing he had an appetite for was you. The only thing that could sate his hunger was feeling you come undone so exquisitely for him again.

He plants one foot on the ground to give him more leverage, letting him thrust down into you more powerfully. Your thighs were spread so widely to accommodate him, your feet swinging wildly as he rolled his pelvis so deliciously into you, his entire body cascading like tidal waves.

“S-Sylus–ngah!” your relentless moans for him would be embarrassing if you weren’t so deep in the hole of lust, “Soo full–ngh–feel s’full–!”

“I know, love,” he purrs, “You’re so beautiful, with me inside you.” He softly strokes the bulge in your tummy, sending shivers down your arched spine, the sensation so otherworldly. 

He delicately, but firmly, grabs the back of your neck, his fingers long enough to enclose over your entire throat. Gently, he pulls you forward, forcing you to look down at where he’s palming your stomach.

“Taking me so damn well,” he growls, his fingers threading into your hair now, gripping with just enough tension to make you tremble with excitement. Your forehead knocks against his, his damp bangs fluttering against your eyes. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails clawing into the thick ropes of muscles there. 

“Mngh–Syluus, I can’t take much more. M’close again–!” 

His hand forces you to watch where he was literally rearranging your insides and has you teetering off the cliff of climax, hanging on for dear life. Sylus’s pace only quickens, his hips pounding into you with reckless abandon now, unable to stop himself, any previous gentleness long gone. 

As a Fiend who’d spent his entire life plundering the world of its treasures and riches, he’d come to know insatiable greed. Dragons inherently took and took, feeding off the gluttony of the human soul, unable to quench their own need to acquire. 

He’d spent a millennium acquiring the most exquisite jewels, extravagant weapons, rarest heirlooms–what he wanted, he took. And yet, every waking day was the hollow echo of a broken harmonium. 

But now, with your angelic little cunt wrapped so perfectly around both his cocks. Your nightingale voice that so often innocently serenaded him, moaning his name like a prayer, greedily begging for more. Your fluttering, doe eyes, glimmering back at him with an entire universe of emotions–desire, anticipation, greed, love.

Sylus realized he’d never known true desire. Not until he’d met you. Nothing he’d ever experienced compared to what it felt like now, to want you–to need you.

And he’d desire nothing, now and forevermore, if he had you. 

Sylus’s fiery breath fans across your lips, his hand holding the back of your head demandingly, voice raspy with an unyielding desire, “I can feel it, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t make me beg, hm?”

His heat fueled words, all but a demand, make you shake to your core. Your body’s perfect reactions to him only make Sylus more vigorous with need, growing impossibly harder inside you. One leaking tip brushes relentlessly against your g-spot, the other bullying into your cervix, damn near trying to find its way into your chest. 

“Sy-Sy–ngh–m’cumming–! Please–!” your neck is hinged back in an ear splitting cry, your hips arched so deeply into Sylus that your spine feels like it might snap. 

“Sh-shit–just like that,” Sylus grits, groaning as your cunt tries to wring him dry, “Just like that, sweet girl. Cum for me.”

Your body convulses, goosebumps littering your skin, as Sylus continues to fuck you through your orgasm, your vision blurring and tears seeping out from the corners of your eyes.You don’t know if it’s because you’ve cum three times already, or because he has you absolutely speared on both his massive erections, or maybe because he looks down at you with all the adoration you think one could hold for even the stars. But this orgasm is far more explosive than the previous ones, and it makes you scream into the night.

You release fiercely against Sylus’s body, the wet gush of release simultaneously erotic and strange. The muscles of your thighs trembled viciously. Your cries of complete and utter pleasure are strangled, your voice nearly gone now. Sylus is cooing sweetly into your ear, but you can't hear him through the blood pounding in your head, your eyes having a hard time staying focussed. 

You don’t even notice when Sylus shifts, now on his knees, his fingers grasping the plush of your hips. Your back now rests against the matted meadow floor, your vision filled with the sky that was slowly filling with stars. 

But your sight is incredibly shaky, Sylus’s grip on your hips bruising as he pulls your body into his relentlessly, still chasing his own release. 

Your senses slowly start to come back to you, the feeling of his cocks still rutting deeply into you sobering you up. The feeling was strange; it was by no means painful, but it was sharp and made you wince.

“Ungh, Sy–s-sensitive,” you whisper, your throat scratchy. Though his thrusts are rough, possessive, he’s somehow still careful with your body, making sure you’re not a complete ragdoll against his demanding pull. You crane your neck slightly and see that, during your momentary orgasmic state of incohesion, Sylus had placed his pants under your head, and what was left of your clothing under your naked back. 

The simple gesture makes your heart skip with inexplicable happiness as you gaze up at him, admittedly growing aroused again, watching him. 

His sweat matted silver bangs had been tousled back, as if he had run his fingers through them. Thick eyebrows, arched downward, darkening his already smoldering irises, watching you like you were the reason the sun rose every day. His entire body was layered in a thin sheen of sweat that made him appear as if he was chiseled from marble, like the sculptures you’d see in the Ivory City. 

“You know, dragons like to mate in the sky,” Sylus groans, a near ramble, delirious with desire, clearly near his own release. His tail flickers wildly behind him, and you use your calf to rub against it. He tenses with a strangled moan, snapping his hips particularly harshly into you. Your eyes roll back as he bruises against your cervix, your sensitivity at an all time high.

“Sylus!”

“One day, hm? Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to see you spread out amongst these flowers.”

Another series of desperate ruts that have you writhing at the intensity.

“We have all the time in the world.”

His honeyed vows have you keening, your body reacting viscerally. Sylus reels when you clamp down on him, doubling over with a strangled groan.

“Not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that,” he pants into the crook of your neck, chest heaving. You loosely wrap your weak arms around his neck, nipping at his earlobe, enjoying the way he flinches.

“Please,” you beg, knowing how much he loves your greed, “I want you to, Sylus.”

A rumbling growl emits from Sylus’s chest, still pressed against yours. Your brain is far too exhausted to register how quickly he moves, maneuvering your thighs until they’re pressed against your breasts.

“Yeah?” Sylus snarls, his entire body caging you in, thighs closed over yours. You swear you can hear your muscles groan in protest, not meant to be this flexible. He’s practically sitting on you, except he keeps most of his weight off of you. From this angle he reaches the deepest he’s been able to, locking you in a mating press that he’s determined to breed you full in. 

“You want me to cum in you, sweetheart?” he rasps, completely feral–too far gone. He’s ramming down into you now, using the strength of his thighs and gravity to knock the air out of your lungs, cocks reaching deep down your throat.

“Too-nghn–too deep!” You don’t know how it’s possible but you feel the coil in your core building again, and you’re certain you won’t survive it this time. It’s too fast, too sensitive, too taut.

Sylus groans, the sound of his pleasure making your mind spin. His rhythm stutters, and you swear you can feel him pulsing inside you, literal vibrations rocking your core. You’d like to think he was as close as you were, again.

“Needs t’be deep, love. If you’re going to give me an heir, hm?”

Your eyes widen at his words, heart skipping a beat. Sylus falters again, feeling you tighten at his words, before smirking crookedly at you.

“So damn tight. Does my sweet girl like that idea?” he croons, almost condescendingly, but threateningly serious.  

Your vision is blurred with euphoric tears, but you can clearly see Sylus’s enchanting eyes looking down at you as they had many times before. They were always intense, the carmine hues able to peer right into your soul. But the heat in them now, as he watched you writhing in ecstasy under him, would put a wildfire to shame. 

You look up at him through your dewy eyelashes, grasping his shoulders, and nod wordlessly, unbelievably aroused by his lewd words of passion.

Storm clouds swirled in his scarlet eyes and he leaned down impossibly closer to you, pressing your bodies tighter together, forcing himself deeper.

“You’re going to take my knot like a good little mate, hm?”

You weren’t entirely sure what that was, but the way Sylus said it just dripped with a possessive sensuality that made you want to submit to his every will. Your stomach flutters at the thought of it, and so you nod eagerly.

“Ungh–anything, Sy–! Anything for you.”

Sylus snarls, nearly baring his teeth, unable to contain the sheer primal joy he felt from your sinful words. He was already having a hard time keeping his instincts at bay with how you felt wrapped around him, underneath him, but now you were on the verge of making him snap entirely.

Did you have any idea what you were doing to him?

“The world needs more dragons, don’t you think?” he snarls, his hand pressing down roughly on your stomach where his two cocks threaten to erupt inside you. The implications of his hand cupping your stomach send you over the edge once more.

Gods, you’d be so beautiful carrying his brood. 

“C-Cumming Sylus!” you whine, voice pathetically broken, body spent beyond belief. Your nails drag through his shoulders, piercing his skin and spilling blood, as every nerve in your body lights ablaze under his touch.

Sylus sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot on your shoulder, needing to claim you as he pushed himself to the edge. Your cunt convulses viciously against him as you cum, the feeling of your perfect heat milking both his cocks pushing him to cum with you.

“F-Fuck, Y/N–!”

Sylus explodes in you with a strangled groan of your name, his release thick, plenty, and scalding. It sends a claiming heat from your core all the way to your fingertips, making you shiver as you shudder with the waves of your climax, crying repeatedly for him.

You feel like you might burst, your stomach swollen with not only his cocks nestled in you but the sheer amount of cum he was still spurting in you. If you weren’t so blissfully fucked out, it might’ve been a bizarre sight, your tummy bulging with the weight of his unending seed painting your walls cream. 

“Mine,” he groans into your neck, sinking himself back into your mark, still rocking into you, still spurting white into you. There’s far too much, leaking out of where he was still connected to you, rutting into you. 

It quickly becomes too much; you’re not sure if you’d become too raw or if you’d simply had enough, but a strange pressure begins to build. And soon that pressure becomes a stinging, painful stretch. 

“Sy-lus,” you whisper, tapping at his chest frantically, “W-Wait please. Something hurts.”

Sylus affectionately licks at the mark he’d branded you with, releasing your legs from the mating press he’d held you in. You whimper in relief when the tension in your hips finally releases. Sylus gently wraps your legs around his waist, but the growing pain between your thighs doesn’t subside.

“It’s my knot, love,” he growls, his voice gruff and gravely. His entire body trembles at the sensation of his knot swelling–filling you, the idea of his seed being stuffed deep inside you making it difficult for him to calm his raging instincts. 

His hand palms where your thighs meet the plush of your rear, kneading into your ass and gripping you closer to him. You instinctually squirm away, the stretch becoming unbearable. But you quickly realize that you physically can’t. You’re literally locked onto him. 

Sylus hisses, holding you in place, desperately trying to get you to stop moving.  

“Please, sweetheart.”

From the sweat dripping down his brow, his jaw clenched so sharply it could cut stone, you realized his knot must’ve been incredibly sensitive. If you weren’t the one getting stretched out onto it, you might’ve even teased him. 

“Just so big, t-too much,” you squeak as he swells further inside of you, not sure how much more you could take. You look down at where his abdomen is pressed into you, the area a pearly mess of your coalesced spend.

You could vaguely see that Sylus had in fact slipped one of his erections out of you, occluded by the sight of the other still engorged and locked inside you. You briefly wonder if the other one is also swelling with a knot. Had he pulled it out for your sake?

“How–nghah–how much more?” you pant, trying your best not to clench down. 

“Almost. You’re taking me so well, Y/N,” Sylus murmurs, deceptively sweet, when all he wanted to do was ram his second knot into you. The battle between his innate draconic instincts, wanting to claim you full force like a beast, and the dual need to protect and cherish you, the last bit of his soul that was untainted.

You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, burying your face into his neck. His scent invades your senses, and you can’t help but moan, lips latching onto his racing pulse. Sylus groans, fingers grasping the back of your head and pressing you deeper into his chest. His tail wraps around your waist again, needing to be closer to you, deeper in you.

“Look at you,” he groans breathily into your ear, the swelling finally seeming to finish, “Taking my entire knot, hm?”

With his entire knot wrapped in your perfect heavenly cunt, Sylus can’t help but start rocking into you again. He’d cum so thickly inside you that his knot actually begins to thrust ever so slightly, the friction sending his eyes reeling backward.

Your eyes blow open, wincing at the feeling of prickling overstimulation. But when you see him, you find yourself not wanting to tell him to stop. 

Sylus’s pearly white canines have dug into his kiss bitten lips, a rosy blush dusting his sharp cheeks. The emerging moonlight makes his argent hair even more ethereal, mussed back in an adorably messy way. His breath is heavy–desperate, face contorted in pure euphoria as he slowly thrusts into you again. 

When you look up at him, you catch him watching you, his eyes overcast by the furrow of his thick eyebrows. 

Reflected in the sea of searing vermillion, the adoration and worship burning brighter than the moon that illuminates a halo behind him, you see your soul reflected back at you. A soul that had been burned black, a puppet without a heart, consumed by revenge and contempt. 

Until a fiendish dragon had plucked her out of the Abyss, and breathed fire back into that very hollow vessel of hatred, illuminating her spirit golden with greed. 

That very greed not only saved your life, but showed you what it meant to be alive. 

You let him slowly fuck his knot into you, whimpering as he stretched you to the point of breaking. Oddly enough, you didn’t hate the feeling, even though it stung. In fact, your body seemed to crave it, crave his body claiming yours. 

“You feel so fucking incredible,” Sylus growls, his movements growing more and more insistent with every passing moment. From his gravelly voice you can tell he’s quickly losing control. Your eyes flutter upward, becoming overwhelmed, your poor body unable to take any more. 

“Syluus, no more,” you grip his forearm, voice weak. Sylus stills when he hears the genuine pain in your voice. His lips are instantly at your temple, pressing kisses into your damp skin.

“Apologies, my love. I got carried away.”

Sylus shifts, cradling you so that you’re now on top of him, his strong arms holding you protectively. His knot, still swollen, rests tightly inside you, plugging you full of his thick seed. You listen to the thrum of his heartbeat, the two of you laying there in a serene silence that nearly lulls you into sleep. 

“You are my fate,” he murmurs imperceptibly, pressing a soft kiss into the claim on your shoulder. His tail has found itself wrapped around your body again, the thick and cold scales digging pleasantly into your burning skin. 

“Hm?” you mumble, sleep creeping in on your consciousness like a thick misty fog. 

Sylus’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle, his fingers carding through your hair. He can feel his knot slowly beginning to subside, though his body still rides high from the passion. 

“Nothing. Sleep, my little dragon.”

–

“Sing for me.”

Sylus’s wings are cocooned protectively around your naked body, seeing as he had absolutely shredded your clothes earlier. The two of you sat against the trunk of a large willow, with Sylus’s back pressed against it, and your back pressed against his chest, his thighs caged around yours. His tail rests on the ground, coiled around your feet, flickering every so often.

You’d awakened to a moonlit tapestry of stars and had stayed to admire them in the serenity of the valley, instead of heading back to the chapel. 

You crane your neck to look back at him, “What, no please?”

Sylus arches an eyebrow at you, “Were you always this cheeky?”

You can’t help but let out an amused snort, “Were you always this demanding?”

Sylus grimaces, bordering dangerously close to a pout, “Will you sing for me?”

“My throat is sore,” you whine. It was wholeheartedly the truth; your voice was raw from your prior vigorous…activities. But the adorable sulk on his face has your resolve slipping away.

“Just a little,” he murmurs, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. You don’t even think he realizes he’s pouting.

You turn your eyes back to the night sky with a giggle. He always demanded you to sing for him, especially when you’d watch the moon together. It was almost a ritual for the two of you. And you rarely denied him.

♪ “This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow,” ♫

Sylus’s wings tense around you as you start singing, his chin resting on the top of your head. The gentle lilt of your voice sent a shiver down his spine, as he tried to recognize the lyrics. But he realized you hadn’t ever sung this one for him before.

♫ “If it weren't for you, I'd be here all alone,” ♪

You keep your voice low and steady as you sing the melody, staring up at the moon in the cloudless sky. It shines even brighter than it had that night in the chapel. 

♪ “I know in my heart this is where we belong.” ♫

The next lines get caught in your throat when a droplet of water splashes on the crown of your head. 

Odd. There hadn’t been any clouds in the sky.

You tilt your head all the way back, trying to get a better look at the sky, “It’s starting to rain.”

Sylus’s upside down face blocks your view, looming over you. He gently grasps your chin and brings your lips up to his, capturing you in a slow and tender kiss. 

A few more raindrops fall onto your cheek, making you shiver. The valley rain is strangely warm.

When he releases your lips, Sylus wraps his arm around your chest, holding you to him. His heart pounds so heavily you can feel it thrumming against your naked back. 

“Oh! I think the rain stopped Sylus!” you gasp, holding out your palms and extending your arms beyond the shade of the willow to try and catch some falling rainfall.

Sylus’s chest vibrates with laughter. He presses his lips into your hair, taking a deep inhale of your scent. Your pheromones nearly have him throwing you under him again, blood rushing south. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your head, shifting so his erections aren’t pressing into your spine. 

Turning to look at him, you giggle in surprise. The silver-haired dragon was not typically a man of many ‘thank yous.’

“For what? Singing?

Sylus doesn’t answer immediately, staring up at the silky glow of the full moon. His normally shadowed irises glisten unusually bright under the radiance of the stars. 

He’d always wanted someone to watch the moon with. 

Sylus looks at you. The corners of his lips are curved in a barely-there smile, but his crimson eyes behold you such devotion that your breath catches. Deep inside the recesses of your consciousness, you can feel your soul tremble, as if being caressed by the claws of another. 

“Yeah. For singing.”

–

A drop of water splashes against your cheek, shaking you out of your reverie. 

You frantically wipe the tears from your cheeks away with your fingers, but the water only continues to fall.

Looking up, you realize the sunset had faded into night. In your reminiscing, clouds had overtaken the sky, crystalline raindrops starting to cascade from the heavens. 

It’s…raining. 

It hadn’t rained for decades in Tarus City, not since that day atop the Highest Court of Justitia. 

Not until now.

♪ This world is a wasteland. ♫

You reach your hand out to catch some of the falling water in your palm, enjoying the sensation of the droplets splashing against your tepid skin. 

A fleck of ebony ash drifts into your palm, the lingering orange ember fading away like a melting sunset when it meets your wet skin, tragically beautiful. 

Like a body fading into crystals of midnight, getting swept up into the clouds.  

♫ Don't let me go, go, go, go, go, go, go. ♪

The raindrops mix with your tears. You’re not sure how much time passes with you standing there in the rain, a mess of silent sobs. Seconds, minutes, hours, you’re not sure how long. Time seems to lose meaning as you stand there, your emotions coming out in an endless stream of tears. Eventually your eyes dry, your body dehydrated with nothing left to shed. 

But the rain doesn’t show any signs of relenting.

When your bloodshot vision focusses just enough for you to regain your sight, you watch as the rainwater seems to melt away the thick layers of soot that had caked the meadow floor for decades. 

The rain was pouring down like silver threads now, gathering into the streams in the depths of the meadow. The way the water trickled down the spine of the empty riverbanks almost made it seem like the valley was alive again.

You look up at the sky. Darkness had come quick, especially with the amount of rain clouds that had surfaced. There weren’t many stars visible, the twinkling lights hidden by the smog and the clouds. 

But as you watch the billowing storm clouds, the wind picks up, parting the column of clouds into two, allowing the glow of the moon to illuminate through. 

Your breath catches as you behold the sight of the moon. It was a full moon tonight, a halo of argent brilliance. 

The same moon you’d watched together here, on that night. 

You couldn't recall the last time you'd allowed yourself to gaze at the moon like this. It felt wrong–to watch the night sky without Sylus. Or maybe you were just too much of a coward. 

Wherever he was, was there a moon for him to gaze up at too? 

Standing here in the valley, under the bask of the moonlight, you feel closer to him than you had in a long time. There’s so much you wanted to say to him, to apologize for–to explain. But you struggle to find the words, your voice caught in your throat, drowning in unrelenting rain and inexplicable emotions.

Your heart drops when the light wanes, the moon getting swallowed up by the unending storm clouds, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. 

Some words are like the moonlight hidden by the clouds. Once the moment passes, there’s no need to say them anymore.

The rainfall drizzles to a stop, leaving you a soaked and shivering mess in the creeping darkness. Though the rain has stopped, the clouds remain. They blanket the entire sky, reaching towards the valley. They trickle over the tops of the scarlet mountains, spilling down like a waterfall.

You’re about to turn to leave when another falling fleck of ash flits in front of your face, tickling your eyelashes. 

You catch it in your open hand, waiting for it to dissolve into the dewiness of your palm. But it just lays there, whole and unyielding. Picking it up, you examine it carefully, before tentatively twirling it around between your fingertips.

What you thought was a fleck of ash wasn’t actually, but a midnight datura petal. 

Your eyes widen in shock, cradling the fragmented bloom in your palm as if it were a newborn hatchling. Whirling around, you search for any possible signs that there could be flowering daturas in the valley. But the ground is covered in nothing but melting ash, as far as your eye can see. Surely nothing could have survived here. 

But the flesh feels healthy and supple as you pinch it gently between your fingertips, as if it’d just been freshly plucked. 

Wrapping your arms around your soaked and shivering body, the petal tucked in between your fingers, you look out one last time into the vast expanse of ashen scarlet hills. 

Somewhere out there, there is a blooming datura. If even just one. 

“Tarus City will bloom once more–as far as the eye can see.”

You let the wind carry your voice off, louder and stronger than you’d intended. The meadow listens, your words echoing into the heart of the valley.  

“But only for you, Sylus.”

You bring the datura petal to your lips, pressing it tenderly there. For a second, you contemplate holding onto it. Taking it with you. 

But perhaps that’d been your mistake all these years.

Holding on when you should’ve been letting go. 

You unclasp your fingers, and the wind lifts the petal from your hands. As it flutters past your shoulders, there’s an inexplicable warmth that emanates from Sylus’s mark–the faint traces of the bittersweet scent of cindered blossoms tickling your nostrils.

It drifts higher, towards the call of the wild–the mountain ranges beckoning it toward them. Higher until you can barely make it out from the expanse of the twilight sky. 

Higher, until it disappears beyond the cloudfall.

♪ Don't let me go. ♫

© aeyumicore 2025.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

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[the-immortal-restless]

A Millennium of Changes

(BETA READ BY @pumpkin-pepperz :) thanks pookie)

Summary: Everyone thought that the new baby Monkey would age like a mortal, after all, they were in the mortal realm and the baby was made in that realm… why would it age differently?

No one expected it to take so long

TLDR:The egg takes 35 celestial months to hatch, which roughly equates to 1,050 years in the mortal realm.

Takes place just after this chapter!

Warning:Heavy Angst(There is also heavy comfort to help don’t worry), Many Major Character Deaths, Transmasculine individual (MK) getting pregnant and giving birth(though it’s not a significant plot point).

This work was written by someone who did not grow up in Chinese culture, and while there are little references to the culture I still want to acknowledge that I am not the most educated on the practices and traditions of said culture.

Notes before the fic(skippable. Skip to *’s): This was based on an idea I had while sick where the egg takes 35 celestial months to grow. And one celestial day is one mortal year. Which I will guide you through the math now.

35 months x approximately 30 days per month = 1,050 days. Converting to Mortal Time is 1,050 years or 12,600 months. They have already completed 9 months in the comic at the time of writing this (may fifth) so that’s 12,591 months or 1,049.25 years. Which is a long time. In the comic it is established that MK is immortal and we already know that Redson is a half celestial, half demon, so of the main group them two are the only one likely to be alive after that long.

Tang is Papa and Pigsy is Dad.

**************************************

”You’ll see- Next time I call you, You’ll finally meet your new sibling… I Promise.”

Those were the last words he heard before his dads went into a deep meditation. It was essentially a magical coma.

MK was worried for his dad, he looked so tired, and his Mama had already passed out. He worried they wouldn’t wake up, but his Baba assured him they would.

MK went home with his Dad and his Papa. His Papa took him for a much needed haircut in the morning, he practically had a mane by now and he wasn’t to keen on having long hair.

MK focused on other relationships. His Dad’s shop was still busy, rightfully so, it was the best noodle shop in town. He still liked listening to his Papa’s wisdom and learning from the scholar. He had therapy with Sandy and his clowder of many cats. He trained with Mei and Redson, outside of hanging out and little dates.

Of course he visited his Baba and Mama every weekend, made sure all the things they had prepared for the baby stayed well taken care of. They’d need it when that baby finally hatched.

But MK started to worry as more and more weeks passed without so much as a sign the baby would hatch.

Eventually the first year passed. His Papa told him that maybe the baby was going to take the full 35 months. That thought both soothed and worried him, almost three years? That’s a long time.

He was worried some new villain would come back, and he wouldn’t have his mentor to help.

He talked to Sandy and he was able to slowly come to terms with that. Telling himself that the baby would be okay and he had a huge support system to help incase something did happen.

He’d focused on living instead of worried. Focus on what can be now, instead of what could’ve been.

He invested his time in growing, learning, becoming someone to be a hero and becoming better and better.

He cooked with Pigsy, the noodle shop had been there since before he was born. He loved cooking with his Dad and he always wanted to continue it. His Dad liked to impart wisdom onto him much like his Papa, (he was beginning to see why they were married) whether it be about trusting his senses over a recipe or some cooking metaphor for life. Things like: “Things are the best when you wait for the perfect time.”

He read more with his Papa, talking about myths and stories. The two of them even ventured outside Chinese Mythos and looked into all kinds of myths and legends. He enjoyed learning and taking in wisdom. Though their time together wasn’t restricted by myths. He also learned things from his Papa about human nature and philosophy. He learned that even though sleep was a vital part of mortal life, it’s still important for Celestial and Immortals because outside of the physical body, the mind benefited greatly from sleep. Sleep allows the mind a break to reset for the next day, to sort all the things you learn into their places and make sure you remember everything.

That’s when he started taking his sleep more seriously. If he was going to be immortal he needed to keep his mind healthy.

He took care of animals with Sandy and went hiking and camping with him, learning about nature and meditation. Sandy also likes to impart wisdom onto him (He was beginning to notice a pattern) about nature and how to learn to value to little beauties in everything.

He played video games with Mei, they always had fun. They also trained both with and without Redson. Though they all trained with and without each other. He focused on spending as much time doing their favorite things: watching movies, shows, playing games. They went to concerts and even tried plays.

He went on dates with Redson. They did picnics occasionally, but they also began cooking together. MK watched him work in the workshop. He and Mei introduced him to shows they thought he’d like. Much to everyone’s surprise and unsurprisingly he took a liking to cooking shows like DBK did.

He even connected with Nezha more, they were both princes and despite Nezha being a bit of a rule-follower, he liked MK’s defiance and rowdy attitude.

It was hard but he managed to live without being consumed by his worry. There were days where he was a bit bed bound with worry and sadness, but his family came and helped him. They all loved MK and MK loved them.

The trouble came when the third year passed. Why weren’t they awake? Why was the egg still unhatched? Why were his parents still so tired looking?

After days of frantic research with the help of MK, Nezha and other people, his Papa found something.

Apparently, sometimes celestial gestation progresses at the rate of the Celestial Realm even if they are in the Mortal Realm. A factor they didn’t know to consider. This information hit everyone like 67 consecutive trains.

The egg would take centuries to hatch… MK would face his immortality without his immortal parents. He would grieve almost everyone around him without his parents. He was… alone.

They couldn’t even undo the spell, because awake or not the baby needed Wukong and Macaque’s power to grow. Not to mention that undoing a spell like this could be dangerous, it would undo on its own when the baby was hatched and the two Celestial Monkeys were healthy. Them being asleep was safer and easier. It was hard but they couldn’t undo the spell that sealed them away

MK cried that day, that week, that month. He was scared, he was terrified. How was he going to survive over a thousand years without his parents?

But he knew mourning was only going to eat at the time. He had more therapy with Sandy. It would take an incredibly long time, but he needed it.

He focused even more on his family. He wanted his to see his life and he wanted to squeeze everything he had into time with them. MK grew closer and closer to his family. He knew by the time his Baba and Mama woke up, the time he spent with his Dad, Papa, Sandy and Mei would be a grain of sand in an an hourglass, but he didn’t care. It was his family.

It felt like centuries already when 7 years passed since they found out, and 10 since his Mama and Baba went to sleep. He hoped that was a good sign. His Dads noodle shop only grew bigger and they made more money. MK even offered to move out to make room for having more guests. MK was basically 34 years old and still living with them but they denied the notion. They said he’d have years to lived outside their house, they wanted him there.

MK didn’t argue.

He and Redson took it slow, but in mortal terms, which might’ve been fast for Demons but Redson nor his family said anything about it. After the first five years of their relationship, they spent a spent together, they both were new to it but it was a night they both enjoyed and never regretted.

After 15 years, they got married. MK knew it might’ve been a little fast. After all his Mama and Baba were engaged for… what 2,000 years before they married? But MK wanted his Dad and Papa to see him get married and Redson agreed that was a good idea. He didn’t mention that his mother had been pestering him for over a decade about getting married and having children with MK.

His Dad and Redson had already spent time together, they were close. But they only got closer when they started cooking together. Now they’d have family cooking nights where MK, Redson, and Pigsy, would cook a big meal and they’d all eat as family. More often than they’d expected, Redson’s family would also come, and DBK would join in cooking.

Those nights were MK’s favorite, his entire family was together.

Somehow in all his packed time with family, he still visited his Mama and Baba at the mountain, while he knew they likely wouldn’t wake up for another ten centuries. He still wanted to visit, talk to them even if they probably couldn’t hear him.

As his family got older, he valued the time more and more. He planned to take over the Noodle Shop. Not out of some obligation or anything. His Dad and Papa had made sure he knew that they wouldn’t be upset if he chose to do something else. He wanted to take on the business. It was his entire life, his first meal, his home. He wanted to live there forever.

MK took care of his parents when they got older. He wanted to, they took him in as a kid and they had a pretty substantial amount of saving to help with these delicate years. Pigsy, despite always talking about having a ‘Noodle Empire’, never bothered to expand. He was content with one shop, one building, one family.

MK hired more trained professionals, of course, to help him as the years passed. He wasn’t a nurse and elderly people had a lot of health concerns that he wasn’t trained to be able to accommodate. But he still did most of it, he learned to do it.

Mei got older too, she got a job as a professional racer. She was happy and MK made sure she practiced safe driving. He wasn’t about to let his best friend die in a fiery crash. That would be cringe of her.

Sandy got older too, and as his own years passed he began to coach MK through that, how to handle grief and understand death without fearing it. How it was natural and how it wasn’t the end. It was only a bridge to new beginnings. Sandy taught MK that life wasn’t about avoiding death, it was about enjoying the time we have. About forming connections and understanding each other. Death was inevitable, yes, but life was also inevitable.

Almost every single creature on earth would make at least one meaningful connection. It was simple math. We are born from someone and that very person is often our first relationship, and earth isn’t even close to being underpopulated. To live a life on earth and not make one single connection was a statistical wonder. It would take effort. Humans especially were inherently social creatures, they hunted in groups in the beginning of the species and now they lived in cities and villages with thriving cultures and family. The purpose of life, Sandy told him, was to give life a purpose.

MK buried Tang first, he was fully human and even though he was younger than Pigsy, demons just simply had a longer lifespan. It was peaceful, without pain or sadness. MK brought Pigsy to the grave to visit everyday, he replace the flowers at the first sign of wilt, lit incense and talked with Pigsy to Tang. It was comforting that they had more confirmation than other mortals often did that there was an afterlife.

MK mourned, Pigsy mourned, everyone mourned. Tang was a good man, he had a heart that was bigger than himself and an intellect to match. He always sought to understand the people around him and see the best in others.

Pigsy didn’t live much long after, he was older than Tang and the two of them were just barely older than Sandy. MK made sure they were buried together. Even if they weren’t alive in those bodies, they had stuck together longer than MK had been alive at that point and he wanted them to stay together long after they departed.

Sandy helped him grieve, though it was made significantly easier with the therapy before the deaths. It was more practice than anything.

MK continued to make human connections. He didn’t let his immortality swallow him. He learned that life was precious and even Redson began to grow friendly with a handful of mortals.

True to his word, MK took over the noodle shop with Redson. It was a family business and Redson had been apart of the family longer than they had been married.

Mei stayed close, she was a well known racer and she was a near expert at it, but she wanted to live in Megapolis. Her family was there, biologically and emotionally. She spent a lot of time with MK and Redson, the three of them were inseparable and even if she couldn’t cook she still had much to offer. She had humor and company and family.

Sandy encouraged MK to continue therapy after his passing, the kid was very stable and had a good support system, but therapy was always a good decision. It helps and it’s better to keep it up, rather than to wait for a catalyst and need more extensive help. Waiting until some breaking point would only make issues worse and take longer to deal with. It’s always a better decision to refine something than wait till it breaks to repair it.

MK mourned when he buried Sandy, of course he did. Sandy was an important figure in his life, he helped him through so much. But he also knew how to continue with himself. Sandy had taught him well.

Redson and Mk took a long time to have kids, not because they couldn’t but because MK had a small fear that he would get stuck in a thousand year rest like his family. But with patience and a heap of therapy, they decided to have one. MK was a little sad his parents couldn’t meet their grandchild but MK knew his parents would rather him be happy than to rush his life just to have them see it.

MK decided on his own that he wanted to carry the child. He didn’t want to follow the egg route, he wanted children but he didn’t want to miss out on a millennia just to have baby. Not that his parents were less for choosing to do that. He knew they wouldn’t have done this on purpose.

So they began to try for a baby, much to Mei’s teasing. It didn’t take long for them to conceive and 9 months later they brought the cutest little boy into the world. Redson and MK ended up naming him a classic name for triumph or victory, Kai. When the baby finally opened his eyes, they were like a mirror image of Redson’s, deep red like dark fire, like the fire he created.

There was some worry among them that Kai would end up creating a second Samadhi Fire like Redson. So they made him a necklace with a pendant carving with a bull and a monkey surrounded by fire. One the back was written three things.

小宝宝(xiǎo bǎobǎo), meaning "little baby."

火焰猴 (huǒyàn hòu), meaning “flaming monkey.”

凯旋 (kǎixuán), meaning “triumph.”

When Kai was born they had a baby shower soon after, it was nice. Life was good for them. They felt at peace, life was going.

MK was still taking care of Flower fruit Mountain, after all, their king was incapacitated, which kinda made him acting leader, then again they were monkeys and they managed to be alright before, but he liked to visit and keep the place nice and clean.

Kai got older, and while he had intense fire power, he hadn’t created a second reality burning fire yet. So they were a bit calmer about the matter. Mei loved the little guy. He was irresistibly cute.

Kai aged slower too, his infancy last almost 5 years. He was a toddler for 10 years. It only grew slower but never old. Before long he was a kid, looking about 8 or 9.

Mei got a bit more time than the rest, she aged slow because of her dragon heritage but she was far from fully draconic. So time did what it does, and Mei passed away. MK and Redson mourned her, that part would never be in question, they buried her with honor, just like the rest. Kai missed her, she was his auntie, Mei took him on motorcycle rides and he watched the old Monkey King movies with her.

Kai was raised knowing the history of his grandparents, he visited Flower Fruit Mountain with his parents and for the first few years of visits he would play with the other cubs and monkeys, eating fruit and roughhousing.

After the first few years, Kai began to stay by his parents, ever curious about what they talked about with two men who probably couldn’t hear them.

After a while he came to realize they talked because they cared. Because even if there was a slight chance that they could hear them, then it was worth it. That’s why he started doing it more, he talked to Mei when they visited her grave and even his other grandparents as well as Sandy. He didn’t meet them, but he wanted them to know him.

Before they knew it, 100 years had passed since Wukong and Macaque went under. Kai was a tween and he was making friends. Both immortal and human. MK and Redson taught him at home, that how both of them knew it and they both turned out okay.

MK and Redson had made friends as well that had also died but they had other families to bury them, he still visited, he cared for them no less. That’s how it continued.

Megapolis grew around them, not big, the city was already pretty good, but trees get bigger and buildings change, even just slightly. They all fell into a bit of a routine, a pleasant one that always seemed to find new ways to keep them from boring to death.

Pigsy’s Noodles continued to remain one of the best restaurants in the city and it stayed a staple of Megapolis. It brought in amazing business and good money.

Demons were becoming more and more integrated into daily life, MK and Redson obviously participated heavily in that, earning a reputation for their acceptance, though to them it was basic decency.

Demons were beginning to become more and more accepting as generations progressed and less of them were driven to crime because of it. They were getting help and proper healthcare instead of being shunned to the corners of society’s shadows. MK found himself acting in a hero role less and less, which he found himself proud of. It meant he did a good job.

By the 9th century, demons were everywhere, they were apart of the culture and everyone grew better because of it. More and more of Megapolis became accessible to everyone, literature became richer and fuller, education and intelligence rates of the schools and districts surrounding them began to rise.

Megapolis was quickly becoming a growing community of vibrant individuals and friends. MK found comfort in the fact that Sandy, his Dad and Papa, would be proud of the world that this was becoming.

MK hadn’t even realized how long it had been since his parents fell asleep growing the egg.

Before long, Kai was an elder teenager, nearly a thousand years old.

MK, Redson and Kai were at the mountain, Red had gone to tidy up the house and make sure everything was ready, even if they thought they weren’t even close to when MK’s parents would wake up. It was still routine. MK was training with Kai, something they had started a hundred odd years ago.

That’s when a bright light came from the mountaintop where Macaque, Wukong and the egg were. MK halted in his step and Kai nearly tackled him before he realized.

Wukong woke with a start, the spell had fallen around them moment ago and Macaque woke up at the same time as him. They both look toward to egg, only to see a little monkey cub in its place.

Their Baby

Wukong and Macaque cried with joy and they both gathered the cub into their arms.

That was until they notice how big the tree near them had gotten, and the vines growing in the rocks, evidence of more age than they expected.

How long had they been out?

That’s when they heard it. A voice, not their sons. Not MK’s but one that called for his Dad.

The boy called for his Papa, urging him to wait for his Dad. He sounded worried but Wukong didn’t care for details. If there was an intruder he needed to protect his cub. He pulled his staff out of his ear. And held it ready.

With a clang, the staff dropped when he saw his own son, his adult son standing there instead of the younger man they remembered him being. Both of their heart sank, tears welled up in their eyes as they realized.

How long has it been, they wanted to ask. But their son, a millennium older and wiser, answered before they could.

One thousand fifty years, he said. The two men were horrified at that answer. They’d been asleep that long? That was a terrifying notion.

Their world only grew harder to believe when a teenager in a red shirt, soon followed by Redson, appeared up the mountain. Redson was shocked and came to MK’s side. Wukong covered his mouth for a moment, slowly connecting the dots that the teenager was his grandson.

Macaque looked worried that their son would hate them for this, that fear melted when MK ran to them and hugged them tightly, careful not to hurt the baby.

Macaque and Wukong hugged their son back and Redson guided his son toward the cuddle pile.

MK rambled about the past millennia to his waking parents for a while before explaining that they had gotten married and had a son. MK looked toward Kai, motioning for him to introduce himself.

“Hello… I’m Kai, I’m your grandson.”

THE END(?)

THE REWRITE IS ACTIVE. Please go read it. I worked for hours on it. Here

Tags: @kyri45 (the creator of the comic that inspired this!) @ainnur @iglowinggemma28 @autism-autobot

[genericpuff]

in light of what i reblogged earlier re: expecting people to engage with the actual source material of fandoms before trying to participate - while Rekindled is on hiatus, y'know what you should do?

Go read Lore Olympus.

The Originals series, the pilot episodes, all of it - or, at least as much of it as you can.

Not because I think you should force yourself to read something that you don't like.

Not because I think it deserves all the accolades it still gets to this day.

But because that thing you don't like might have had some great ideas and concepts and it was with those ideas and concepts that I was able to create Rekindled.

Because that thing you don't like might actually have stuff you like in it but you never found out because you never engaged with it past the antiLO/ULO communities.

Because that thing you don't like is something I used to like so much that I was willing to spend the last 2+ years of my life creating something new out of it, and will probably spend 2+ more years continuing to do so.

I know that's a HOT TAKE coming from me of all people, but there's so much stuff that I see people commenting about Rekindled that deadass would not exist if it weren't for LO, and Rekindled itself has grown to a point that we've now taken on readers who've never even touched LO. Wilder still that I'm fairly certain we have a few readers who didn't even know LO existed. The longer Rekindled goes on, the more it deviates from the original work as the plot changes and moves away from what LO tried to do, subsequently the more disconnect will grow between those who understand its context and those who don't.

And I'm talking beyond the obvious stuff like the S1 plot tweaks and trying to mimic Rachel's older art style, I mean the real nitty gritty stuff that's meant for the fans and haters alike, the references, easter eggs, panel redraws, borrowed designs, and inside jokes that go as far back as the pilot episodes that you wouldn't be able to fully understand or appreciate without having read the source material-

(there are sooo much more than this but I'd hit the image limit before I even got through half of them LMAO and there's one in particular that hasn't happened yet but I'm really hoping people pick up on when it does because it's probably my favorite out of all the parallels I have planned ;0 and if you're someone who HAS read the original comic all the way through and knows all the references and detailse, I hope it's at least making for some fun easter egg hunting LOL)

None of this is to diminish our own efforts to create something unique out of Rekindled, both through its art and writing - there are a lot of original ideas and concepts that we've made for it that we're really proud of and frankly really grateful that we came up with before Rachel LOL (Gorgon Ramses is ours! Big boy Dionysus is ours because we beat Rachel to the punch in his debut! Charon is ours! Muahahahaha-) but some of you compliment things with Rekindled that I'm concerned you don't realize aren't original ideas on our part-💀

I'm all for dunking on LO, but I'm also all for free thinking and my free thought is that you should absolutely read LO so you can form your own opinion of it separate from that of my own. You don't have to pay for it, you don't have to give Rachel and Webtoons your hard-earned money, the DailyPass system might be annoying but it does let you read 2 free episodes a day, all the way up until the finale which some webtoons don't even let you do (some of them force you to pay for the final episodes). With AdPass you can read even more. Shit, if you really can't access it but you're tech savvy enough to understand how magnets work (cough cough), I'll help you out.

Get through as much of it as you can, at the very least the first season and the pilot episodes. If you really can't stomach much more of it beyond that, then obviously don't force yourself to, but at least then you'll be able to form a more concrete opinion based on what you've actually read.

Lore Olympus absolutely sucks ass in more ways than I can count, none of what I'm saying here is a glowing recommendation of it as a piece of media. But Rekindled wouldn't be what it is - it wouldn't even be - without it. And that alone should make engaging with the source material worth something to anyone who enjoys Rekindled for what it is, and what it isn't. I hate what LO became - and what it ultimately always was as soon as the rose-colored glasses fell off - but I love what it used to mean to me still to this day and I love what it still provides for me through Rekindled.

There is, after all, a reason why it is called Lore Rekindled ♡( ◡‿◡ )

[shanastoryteller]

Congrats on finishing See Something Say Something!! I checked the notification of the first AO3 email sent out and you initially planned on five chapters.

Would you say that the ending changed considerably since you started in October? Or has that stayed the same?

thank you!

it stayed the same lol. while my fics getting wildly out of control and becoming way longer than i anticipated is pretty common, i'm pretty much never changing overarching plot when this happens. the story that i become interested in telling is typically the story then i end up telling

almost every story can be made shorter or longer. it's less about what happens and more about how that information is conveyed. things that really tend to affect writing length are perspective and breathing room

the shortest fic i have on ao3 that's not part of a series is You Were (Not) Meant For Me (posted 11 years ago, jesus T_T). the premise is that claudia was a witch who intended trained stiles to be a witch and she arranged his marriage to laura hale, the future hale alpha. this is a traditional pairing as talia's husband was also a witch married to talia in service of the pact. except claudia died before she could train stiles or tell him about the engagement. stiles starts learning magic after scott is turned. derek falls for stiles and feels like he's betraying his sister by loving him, betraying stiles by not being the alpha he deserves and not telling him about the arrangement claudia made, and hates himself the entire time, but not enough to stop himself

that's a 100k fic easy

it's 1,696 words

it's extremely limited perspective (derek's) and it's made up only of limited snapshots of moments with very little context. there's no seeing what's happening, only told, which i think would quickly grow boring if it was longer and if the real point of the story wasn't derek's self hatred and how he fails to deal with it. that's the part of the story that isn't told, really - derek does think explicitly that he hates himself, but we're also seeing it in the way he talks and thinks about himself and the people around him

by contrast we have survival is a talent, which is obviously my longest fic. we're over 500k and we've got quite a bit to go

perspective doesn't just refer to character pov, but audience pov - are you being told a story, or are you experiencing the story? this is also tied into breathing room. there's no wrong way, i've done both and will do both, but one certainly requires more words than the other in my experience

siat is told only through draco and harry's perspective, but it's all happening in real time. the audience is being taken along for this story. the thing is that that things in real life don't all come tumbling one after another, not all questions have immediate answers. when depicting character growth and a plot unfurling, i think it's really important to include breathing room to give the audience time to feel that growth and change. i'm stricter about this with siat than anything else i've written, probably sometimes to its detriment. i want you and the characters to have time to feel the effects of emotional revelations and plot hints. i want you to have the time to question and wonder about things the same way the characters do

one time a friend criticized the good place for including the portion where they were alive again on earth because it wasn't as interesting as being in hell, but i disagree. we needed that breathing room both to live with the effects of character growth of going through hell and to have time for the effects of their actions on the plot to settle before they moved forward again. i stopped watching agents of shield because we weren't given enough breathing room - there was never a chance to see the characters not in crisis, the world was always ending, ect. the alchemyst book series has the first like 3 books taking place over a day and a half. i got tired of it after that. there's no breathing room

a story where i gave up on the concept of breathing room was build your wings on the way down. i liked that fic, but i wanted it finished, and to do it with i think optimal pacing would have made it twice as long as it was. so i said screw it, avalanche time, everything is happening all at once right now. there's very little breathing room there, which i think doesn't work too terribly in part because everything is so urgent and everyone is stressed so not being able to catch you breath sort of fits

See Something Say Something did not need to be 215k, although i'm not at all complaining. i feel very happy with how i told this story. but the basic premise - sam getting his powers early, getting involved in the large hunter world secretly from his family, and dean feeling misplaced and worried about how much sam needs/wants him - could have been told a hundred different ways and all would have pulled it off, so to speak

i considered doing the the entire fic from dean's pov (as a sam girl i love his pov because all he thinks about is sam and he's so insane about it) which would have effectively cut out basically the first five chapters. i thought exploring the slow realization of what's going on purely from dean's pov, with the audience having not insight would have been really interesting, just like what I did in dumb luck or good ghost with dean slowly figuring out that sam didn't die in the crash. another thing is the inclusion of all the side characters which i did to make the world feel rich and real, but we didn't need all these outsider povs to get the basic point across. very rarely is something vital being conveyed by an outsider pov, but it reinforced and adds to the main characters. i also initially didn't have wincest, which obviously added a ton of words. i loved exploring dean's self hatred and fear and sam's obliviousness, but bringing them to a place of ignorance to acceptance to happiness is a lot longer of a journey than just dealing with dean's propriety love as an unhinged co-dependent older brother. again, i'm sticking by all these choices, i made them because i thought it was the best way to the tell the story i was most interesting in telling, but my point is that you didn't need them to tell this particular story

it was also how i told the story. we spend a lot of time wallowing in character's emotions, especially dean's and sam's, but the others as well. part of this fic is convincing you that these two brothers should fuck, actually, and doing that effectively is going to take some time, especially at this point in their lives when things are pretty normal. comparatively, fucking your brother after starting the apocalypse is pretty small potatoes. i wanted you to understand these people, to feel what they were feeling, to not feel that it was inconceivable that jess would be willing to share her boyfriend with his brother, to buy all their relationships with each other in a way that isn't purely based on convenience

part of the reason i wrote dumb luck or good ghost before see something say something was that i felt i needed a firmer grasp on who the characters are before getting into who they were and who they could be - especially john, who i feel is exceptionally difficult to write without over excusing his actions or over villainizing them. the reason john doesn't get a single pov in see something say something is that while he's a motivating and underlying factor in much of the story, the story isn't about him. it's about the effect he has on those around him, and i didn't want to sully the pureness of that effect by introducing his internal dialogue, regardless of how persecutionary or absolving it would be. it's just not about him. it's how he responds to others and how they respond to him in turn

anyway! this is another example of something ending up longer than expected, but yeah. the plot of see something say something didn't change much from posting of the first chapter and my stories rarely do - i have plot points in siat that have been there since i posted the first chapter that are still relevant and happening. "harry and draco just. cut dumbledore's fucking hand off" my beloved

[ckret2]

Hey gang, time for Crowdsourced Brainstorming Time

for reasons, I've got to write Mabel and Bill watching (at least large chunks of) a full Color Critters episode, which means I need something more in-depth than the quick snips & summaries I've done for previous episodes, and I feel like brainstorming a kids' cartoon plot is the kind of thing where twenty brains are better than one.

The goal: episode plotlines that sounds like something you'd find in an 80s Care Bears or Rainbow Brite episode. We're going for "run-of-the-mill episode," not a plot you'd expect in a pilot or a finale or an exciting two-parter special event

the premise of the show: anthropomorphic animals are defending colors, which are magically tied to different concepts. Example: the color green and friendship: when friends are fighting it kills nearby green things and if green things are destroyed it negatively impacts nearby friendships. it's for kindergarteners and teaches simple life lessons that people in the 80s thought were a good idea.

And if you haven't lost interest in this post yet, I'm sticking the available characters under the read more

Good guys, the colors they're in charge of, and what that gives them power over:

Prisma the Rainbow Fairy - rainbows, white, light - she's basically just Rainbow Brite. Everyone else's boss. Unofficially the main character.

Glory the Unicorn - pink - no particular domain, just Prisma's second-in-command and bestie. A bit of a worrywart.

Leo Proud - Red - life, exercise, playing (especially active play like sports)

Teddy Tender - orange - health/healing, fun & enjoyable things (less active play like board games)

Sunny Cat - yellow - sunlight, self-confidence, personal strength/power/assertiveness. she and Leo are cousins

Love Bunny - Green - friendship, love, nature

Howell Wolf - Blue - creativity, storytelling, magic (he's a wizard, he's got a wizard hat). he's besties with Leo

Misty the Dolphin - indigo - serenity/harmony, cooperation. She can't travel most places due to being a dolphin and gets used in well-intended but dated episodes about accommodating your friends with disabilities.

some bird I haven't named yet, maybe a peacock - purple - spirit

Bad guys:

Duke of Smog - the Big Bad, floating cloud of purple-gray smog with red angry eyes. He only takes an active role for special occasions like the pilot episode and season finales; otherwise the other characters frequently reference him but he's rarely seen. Wants to destroy color and goodness. No Heart mixed with that one creep in the Rainbow Brite pilot two-parter, what was with that dude anyway, they built him up so much as a villain and then bam he doesn't even survive to be part of the actual show

Serpent Grey - the second-in-command and most frequently seen bad guy. snake that has a mane for some reason. Bosses around the rank-and-file bad guys, cowardly dumbass who thinks he's a courageous genius. Shreeky mixed with G1 Starscream if he wasn't trying to overthrow megatron. If this show actually existed in the real world and I had watched it at age 7 then Serpent would be my favorite character and I'd probably have shipped him with the Duke.

a big fuzzy tarantula I haven't named yet - well-meaning bumbling dumbass who doesn't seem to realize he's one of the bad guys and is just happy to be included. Think Lurky.

a bee I also haven't named yet - the most important thing to know about him is that in season 1 he was a bad guy but then a special interest group angrily wrote the TV station to say that bees are so important to nature and agriculture and it was shameful for a children's cartoon to teach kids that bees are bad guys and so in season 2 he inexplicably joined the good guys and it took half the season for them to air an episode showing he switched sides because the other bad guys were bullying him and the good guys were nice.

"Hey Puff how come you can describe the bad guys in so much more detail than the good guys even though they're much less important?" don't look at me

[deikshen]

Shen Qingqiu decides that in order to avoid becoming a human stick... He should just become a woman and take a wife plot!! There are HUNDREDS of wife plots in PIDW, and well, Shen Qingqiu can become a woman and fall into one, become Luo Binghe's wife after the regulatory papapa, and be forgotten in the harem. It's not a bad idea.

(Shang Qinghua keeps his comments to himself, extremely amused by Cucumber-bro's mental gymnastics. Heaven save him.)

So, Shen Qingqiu bites the bullet and gets himself a rare flower that transforms his body into a woman body, with tits and... bottoms. He makes it look like an accident, which, combined with the effect of Without-A-Cure, has no immediate solution. Mu Qingfang is jaded but not skeptical, so they just let it be. Shen Qingqiu is still Shen Qingqiu, Peak Lord and resting bitch face™, only now he must wear robes that do not squeeze his grown chest so much and a belt that fits tighter around his waist.

Shen Qingqiu still thinks of himself as a man, the other Peak Lords and disciples still refer to him as Shixiong and Shizun, as the immortal master that he is, and more than that there is not much to say. Shang Qinghua occasionally makes a comment about him having nice tits and earns a couple of fan blows to the head, but it's not really too different from before.

He hasn't decided yet what wife plot he will use. Maybe the flower that sex-pollen-poisons him but makes him irresistible to any demon around him? It would tempt Binghe's demonic side a bit, and secure him the papapa. Or the water from that spring that would make the typical fuck or die plot only solvable with the Heavenly Pillar? Shen Qingqiu believes that he has time to think about it further; after all, there are still years to The Moment, right?

The plague of Jinlan City and Luo Binghe's unexpected and early return throw him into absolute chaos. Fuck! He still has nothing ready! Not even a flower of pollen on him that would make Binghe spare his life!

Well, Shen Qingqiu will have to cope with only the experience of trashy romance novels, improvisation and his arduous desire to survive.

...

When Luo Binghe arrives at his room, demanding answers from the elusive Shizun who hasn't even shown himself to him... Shizun only has inner robes. There's... Blush on his cheeks? Wet lips and bitten? The tunics open at the subtle curve of... Breasts? A tiny waist - even tinier than before, Luo Binghe is confident he can hold his hands around it without any problems - and wide hips where the fabric of his inner tunics almost seems transparent. Luo Binghe falls silent, his brain boiling in five different temperatures.

"Binghe?" asks his Shizun, who somehow seems to have been... cursed with this form? He looks vulnerable, a sweet fawn with huge eyes, a blushed face, and a sweet half-open mouth. "Is it really you?"

His Shizun looks big eyes on the verge of tears. He approaches, not caring about the ill-fitting tunics, not caring that one of his shoulders slides, revealing white skin, a stretch of cleavage. And his Shizun holds his face, hands cold and almost trembling, as if he were seeing a dream come true in front of him.

Luo Binghe... wonders if Shizun ever dreamed of that. If his Shizun ever dreamed of seeing him come back to now react in that way. Because now tears are streaming down Shen Qingqiu's face, and he is holding Binghe's face so lovingly in his hands that Luo Binghe can only melt into his touch.

"Shizun," he says, because it's all he wants to say, it's all he can say. His anger is a chaos that spirals out in all directions, but how can he let it out there? In front of the vulnerable Shizun who cries for him? There must be an explanation, Luo Binghe tells himself. He needs to hear that.

But he also needs Shen Qingqiu not to cry.

"My Binghe" his Shen Qingqiu says, his own heart racing. Luo Binghe lets Shen Qingqiu move him, pulling him, wrapping him in a hug. Luo Binghe must lean down to be hugged tightly by his Shizun, but there... There is a stretch of white throat exposed. There is so much soft skin exposed in every direction. He can see the pronounced curve of his cleavage, but he can feel almost beneath his mouth the throbbing in his throat, the scent of his hair, the perfume of his skin...

And Shen Qingqiu squeezes him tighter, almost making him bend over him, holding him as if he never wants to let go. And Luo Binghe can feel every curve of his body pressed against him, he can lose himself in the scent of his skin, in the strong grip of his arms. His own body is awakening irrationally and embarrassingly, but if Shen Qingqiu notices it, he doesn't say anything...

No, in fact, Shen Qingqiu is getting closer to him?

Is Shizun poisoned? Or something? Some pollen? Some flower? What's going on?

"My sweet disciple," Shen Qingqiu says, and as much as Binghe wants to pull away to see his face, Shen Qingqiu holds him against him. Luo Binghe believes it is because, despite everything, his Shizun's face is still so thin... "This... This Shizun has missed his good boy Binghe so much..."

Luo Binghe feels his own rational brain shutting down. Oh well. He'll figure out what needs to be figured out later. His cock will be taking control of all the blood in his body now.

(When Shen Qingqiu is pushed against a wall and roughly kissed, he restrains himself from pumping a fist in the air in celebration. YEAH!!! HE DID IT!! HE'S GOING TO SURVIVE THAT AND WITHOUT BECOMING A HUMAN STICK!!)

...

(Papapa - about five to six rounds, Shen Qingqiu lost count at some point - later, Shen Qingqiu is not too sure that he will actually survive. His little blackened lotus has a lot to learn. Ah, where did he learn to be so rough? Those kisses seemed more like bites than kisses. Lots of teeth, lots of teeth. And his touch is rough and not gentle at all, and Shen Qingqiu is more in pain from his clumsy fingers than from the Heavenly Pillar. Did the demon jiejie in the Abyss they hadn't taught him anything? At this point in the plot Luo Binghe should know at least something on how to be a good lover!!

Or was Airplane's poor writing now reflecting on the Protagonist!? Oh, Shen Qingqiu hoped not, because otherwise Airplane was going to pay for it with his blood.

Ah well. Once a Shizun, always a Shizun. Shen Qingqiu is going to have to teach his cute Binghe a little about this too. And sleepy after a some orgasms, the truth is that he doesn't object at all.)

[pileofboneswrites]

THINGS ARE DIFFERENT.

SUMMARY — this year brought a world of horrors for you. a car accident just weeks before your first day of sophomore year leaves you with no memory of the last year of your life. six months later, things have settled for you; you've got perfect grades, you're a cheerleader and your boyfriend is the quarterback. life is great, perfect even, until a certain raven-haired boy comes crashing into your life, causing chaos and triggering some of your memories to come back.

PAIRING — sweet pea x fem!andrews!reader | reggie mantle x fem!andrews! reader

WORD COUNT — 9.6k

WARNINGS — shitty friends, mentions of a car accident, cheating (caught in the act), lying, angst, fighting, swearing, i think that's it???? (let me know if i missed anything!!!!)

A/N — the plot of riverdale is kind of muddled in this fic; hiram logde's plans are apart of it somewhat, but jason is still alive. no mention of "yn" everyone mostly refers to her as andrews, reg refers to reader as "sunshine" a few times, and fred refers to her as kiddo, also the absolute SHITSHOW i went through to post this, oh my god, tumblr formatting is FUCKED (i usually write everything in my notes app or on wattpad bc i have lost so many partially done fics to shitty service). like i get WHY, but AHHHHHHHH (that's me screaming at the top of my lungs,,, 24 hour loop edition), not proof read

MASTERLIST | RIVERDALE

YOU.

"ronnie needs our support on this," your twin brother archie explains, he's leaning against the door frame of your bedroom.

your back is to him, and you're trying to get ready to head out for school. your homework, laptop and other things sit spewed around your room. utter chaos from your midnight homework session. you straighten yourself, finally meeting his eyes.

"yeah, and? veronica is your girlfriend, not mine archie." you reply, leaning down to shove your laptop into your school bag.

"please?" he pleads, and you roll your eyes.

veronica lodge's dad is no good for riverdale, you can feel it. every move he makes seems to rattle one of archie's friends, or cause a disturbance within the town. since hiram rolled in it seems like one half of riverdale is always up in arms. first jughead when the serpents trashed the drive-in, and the northsiders because of the southsiders joining the now only school in riverdale.

"arch, i don't have the same kind of love from my friends you do. i step on their toes over this, i'm going to be an outcast." you reply, zipping up your bag.

"you can always hang with us," archie sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. "i know that betty misses you a lot, same with jughead."

"then why haven't they reached out?" you snap, sick of the conversation at hand.

archie always gets your hopes up, then plans fall through or they "unintentionally" leave you out. so, you're done. they know that you don't remember anything from the last year; the good, the bad or the petty. you're done trying to change things when with every effort you're shot down. you want normalcy. you want your friends back, but if they're not going to tell you what's going on, or make an effort, then why should you?

"just think about it, okay?" archie says, and you shake my head.

you throw my bag over your shoulder and push past him. you pause in the hallway, guilt creeping up on you, but ultimately decide not to worry about it. archie's been babying you, coddling you even since the accident. which to an extent you can understand it; you could have died. at the same time you feel like you never have a moment to yourself. archie's always lurking. you jog down the stairs, patting vegas as you slip out the front door onto the footpath.

the weather is hazy, it's damp out, fog lining the streets obscuring vision twenty feet head. you thank the powers that be for you remember a jacket. you pull your hood up as you walk towards the sidewalk, but you catch sight of your boyfriend's car parked on the street.

"morning princess," reggie calls through the open passenger window.

"morning reg," you reply pulling the door open and sliding into the passenger seat.

"did you hear about southside high closing?" he prompts after you give him a quick peck on the lips. "means all the trash is going to be clogging the halls of riverdale high,"

"yeah, arch filled me in this morning. you'd think after all the drama surrounding archie and the serpents he'd be less than excited about them transferring in." you sigh, tossing your bag into the backseat.

"he's on their side?" reggie asks, mouth twisting in disgust.

"guess so," you shrug, pulling on your seatbelt as reggie pulls away from the curb.

"but you're not?"

"i'm indifferent," you reply. "i don't care one way or the other,"

"cheryl's going to hate it," he says, and you shrug again.

the drive is relatively short, and silent. when you and reggie aren't making out, it's usually pretty quiet. you're together on the principle of "it makes sense". that's quite literally how he phrased it when he asked you out. and to an extent he's right. it makes sense for a football player to be dating a cheerleader. it makes sense. that being said, your relationship is entirely physical and for show. you're more along the lines of friends with benefits than an actual relationship. he only calls you when there's a party, or he's horny. romantic, you know. reggie grabs your backpack, and you climb out of the car.

"morning!" betty shouts, climbing out of her mom's car.

"hey," you reply, watching as she b-lines towards you.

"you friends with cooper again?" reggie whispers, leaning against the passenger side door.

"no, her friends want my support about the southside," you whisper back, plastering on a fake smile.

"good morning," mrs. cooper says as she drives past.

"good morning mrs. cooper!" you reply cheerily, she smiles and waves before turning out onto the street.

"hey, can we talk for a minute?" betty asks, stopping a few feet away.

she looks like she always does. blonde hair pulled up in a tight ponytail, makeup pretty minimal and natural, and her signature grey crown sweatshirt.

"sure," you say, and reggie leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, as you grab your backpack from him. "see you in homeroom."

he just smirks at you, as you turn away. you feel his eyes on your back until the two of you slip inside of the school. you feel slightly more at ease without reggie by your side. you follow betty to the room dedicated to the blue and gold (your school newspaper). betty drops into her seat at her desk, and you drop your bag on the table and plop down in the chair on the otherside of her desk. you sit, crossing your arms over your chest.

"whats do you want?" you ask, your question coming out ruder than you'd intended.

"i uh, i wanted to touch base." she says, averting eye conact.

"touch base? we haven't spoken since before my accident, betty. what do you really want?" you snap, becoming both annoyed and upset that she didn't actually mean it.

you could have played dumb, you could have gossiped, you could have gave her a life update. but you spend so much time being fake with your 'friends' that you can't handle any more superficial small talk that neither of you will remember. she looks taken a back by your brashness, and you feel a twinge of guilt. just a twinge.

"i—" she starts, but you cut her off as you forcfully shove your chair back, causing an awful screeching sound as it drags across the tile floor.

"look, cooper, if you need something, be straight with me and don't get my hopes up to use me for information." you grab your backpack and trudge into the hallway crashing straight into someone sending you flying back.

you grunt, bracing for the impact but instead you feel two hands on my arms steadying me. you peak your eyes open, and see a tall guy with dark hair and a leather jacket.

"oh shit, i'm sorry," you mutter slipping past him as you rush up the stairs.

you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, like someone's watching you. you turn your head as you head up, and see the guy who caught you staring in your direction. he looks pissed, and you wonder for a brief moment if that anger is directed at you. you feel someone poke you in the shoulder and you turn your head to look at them. you jump in shock at how close she is.

"you good?" cheryl asks, the usual distaste in her voice, one eyebrow raised in question.

"yeah, fine," you reply walking in step with her, glancing down the stairs, to see a brown and pink haired girl pulling him away.

"—and i don't know why she wants this so bad—" cheryl's voice drifts off into backgroung noise, something that tends to happen more and more frequently.

that guy looked weirdly familiar. you swear you've seen his face before but you can't seem to place it. which is also happening more, and more frequently to you. you know it's going to bug the hell out of you.

"—and i said—" cheryl continues, as you head towards english.

"andrews!" you feel two arms wrap around your middle, and you're yanked backwards and lifted up.

"ahhhhhh!" you shout, startled by the sudden movement and contact, your kneejerk reaction is to raise your elbow and throw it into the first piece of flesh you connect with.

"andr- shit!" a familiar voice yells, as you free fall to the ground, landing on your ass hard. "what the hell, dude!?"

you lift my head and see cheryl's twin brother jason leaning over, clutching his stomach in pain. you clap your hand over your mouth in a mix of embarrassment. he glances down at you, rubbing the tender area, mouthing 'what the fuck' over and over.

"shit! jason, i'm so sorry—" you say, quickly standing up, he waves you away so he can take a second.

"what has you so jumpy this morning?" cheryl asks, crossing her arms and raising both her eye brows at me.

"no clue," you reply truthfully.

"too much caffeine likely," jason says, standing up right and throwing his arms cross both mine and cheryl's shoulders to guide us to class.

"how many cups a day are you drinking?"

"two," you reply, no hesitation.

you haven't been sleeping much lately, or at all really. you weren't sure what was worse; the lack of sleep, or the fact that when you do manage to fall alseep all you seem to dream of is the four agonizing hours you were trapped in your car after the accident.

"four with extra espresso." jason chirps, and you mock elbow him and he flinches, dropping his arm from your shoulder to shield himself. "not cool dude,"

"aw, prwincess," you mutter tapping his cheek with your hand.

you duck under his arms at a weak attempt to catch you, and slide into class dropping into your usual seat beside ethel muggs. mrs. leroy has all the desks grouped in twos. she likes to assign a lot of partner assignments and classwork, so you ended up with desk pairs.

"good morning," ethel says brightly, and you smile at her.

"good morning ethel, how was your weekend?"

"it was good, how was yours?"

"it was okay," you reply and shrug as mrs. leroy, our english teacher waddles into the room.

she drops her bag beside her desk and takes off her jacket, hanging it on the back of her chair before standing at the front of the room and clearing her throat.

"alright guys, we have a bunch of new students joining us. i'm sure you heard about the students from southside high tranfering in, and we're going to be very welcoming. as such, i've decided to change up your desk partners to kick off our next project." she says, and everyone groans. "hey! who knows, maybe you'll meet your new best friend!"

you drop your head down on the desk as she continues to speak.

"i call your pairs and you'll move to the assigned set of desk pairs, every up."

everyone obeys, clearing to the back, front and sides of the room as she spends the next fifteen minutes reseating you.

"mr. blossom and ms. topaz, these desks please." jason nudges your foot as he passes.

"she's pretty," he mouths and you roll your eyes, a shit eating grin on his face.

"mr. sweet pea, and ms. andrews."

"sweet pea, what kind of name is that?" cheryl snickers, rolling her eyes.

you step forward, dropping into the closest desk to you, ducking your head to look into your backpack for my notebook and pencil. you drop them onto the desk, and look ahead to the board.

"uh, excuse me—?" you turn my head, and see the guy who caught me in the hallway.

"yeah?"

he's cute. messy—but like the intentional kind of messy—dark hair, with curls over his forehead, and dark eyes. there's a hint of ink poking out over the collar of his leather jacket, you catch sight of a snake's head.

"can i— uh— can i borrow a pencil or pen?" he asks, and you nod, turning to dig into you backpack for one.

you feel his eyes on you, watching your every move as you dig. you pull out the first pen you find and hand it over. he reaches out, grabbing hold of it, and your fingers briefly touch. a shiver immediately shoots down my spine, and you drop your hand. you get a flash of a memory, it's difficult to piece together what you're remembering. you see a flash of a half empty vodka bottle, a leather jacket, and a tattoo gun. you gather your things, and jump out of your seat rushing to the bathroom, you hastily shove your notebook away and drop your bag upon entering the bathroom. you drop to your knees in front of the first toilet you find, and empty the contents of your stomach. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean back against the stall dividers, trying to catch your breath.

it was like for a brief moment you was there. you could hear the tattoo gun buzzing, you could feel the scratch against your skin and you could taste the vodka. you stand up, and walk over to the mirror. maybe you're losing your mind. you would notice a tattoo, wouldn't you? if you didn't know to look for one, maybe you wouldn't... you lift your hoodie a little, and catch sight of one of the snake's heads poking out from under the underwire of your bra.

"holy shit," you breath, pulling your hoodie back down.

you lean down, and turn on the water slashing it onto your face. you stare hard at yourself in the mirror. how could you not see something like that? why didn't anyone tell you? you were told that you grew apart from your friends, but by the looks of things you had a whole other set that no one knew about, or at the very least didn't want you to go back to. the bell rings, signaling the end of first period, and you stand there staring at yourself in the mirror. the door opens slightly, and the brown and pick haired girl sticks her head in and sees you.

"hey, are you okay?" she asks, opening the door fully to come in.

"uh, yeah, i think so." you reply, and she nods, not pushing the topic any further, which you appreciate.

checking in on you is a small act of kindness that not even my so-called 'best friend' cheryl could give. you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, and pull it out, turning away from the sink to lean on it. think of the devil, a text from cheryl.

you don't reply, you just sigh, and shove your phone back into your pocket. you look up and catch the girl's reflection staring at you.

"uh, sorry." she says and you shake your head, mustering a small smile.

"it's okay, i'm—," you say, sticking out your hand to her.

"actually, we've met bef—" she cuts you off, but is cut off by the bell ringing.

then there's a loud bang on the door, and it opens slightly.

"topaz! we need to talk," it's sweet pea.

she throws you a sympathetic smile and heads out to the hallway. you there for another few minutes, fully aware of the fact that you're missing chemistry before you pull your phone back out, and call your dad. i can't handle this, i'm incredibly overwhelmed. all of this is too much. i know toni? i'm a southside serpent?

"hey kiddo, what's up?" he asks, answering on the first ring, it's his coffee break. "aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"i am," you reply, your voice shaking, immediately giving away how you're feeling. "i just— dad—"

"sweetheart?" he prompts.

fred andrews, a saint walking, ever understanding. you're incredibly blessed to have him for a dad. you force yourself to take a shaky breath, you're on the verge of tears and your eyes burn.

"can i have a day? i just— i'm so overwhelmed. can i go home?" you ask, the dam breaking, tears slipping down your cheeks.

"yeah, kiddo, i'll come get you and sign you out for the day, okay?" he says, and you whisper okay. "hang tight, i'll be there soon."

"thanks dad," you say, and hang up.

you stare at your reflection, your eyes are puffy and you look like hell. your hair is a mess, but you really don't have the energy to fix it. you grab a couple paper towels from the dispenser and wipe your face. you grab your backpack and head down to the office. you drop into one of the chairs across from mrs. bell's desk to wait.

"oh, hi," she says, exiting mr. weatherbee's office holding a folder. "how can i help you dear?"

"i'm not feeling well, my dad's coming to pick me up." you reply, forcing a small smile.

"oh i'm sorry to hear that dear, i hope you feel better," she gives you a sympathetic look as she plops down at her desk.

you're used to the look; the sad eyes with a small forced smile, you'd recived it a lot since the accident. there were no fatalities thankfully, but it drastically changed your life. at least you have to assume it did, you'd lost a year's worth of memories and it only took you a severe concussion and a couple weeks of physical therapy.

"good morning, dorris," comes your dad's voice, he steps into the office and mrs. bell smiles at him.

"well hello, fred." she says, a faint smile on her lips.

everyone on this side of town loves your dad. fred andrews is the kind of guy who will drop everything if you're in a bind, whether you're a friend or not. he signs you out on the sign out clipboard and turns to you.

"ready to go?" he asks, and you nod, standing up.

he slings an arm around your shoulders, and you wrap an arm around his middle as you walk. he doesn't ask you any questions, but you're sure when you get home he's going to have some.

SWEETPEA.

"she acts like she's never met us before," fangs says, sitting down beside sweet pea on the steps leading up to the bleachers.

they need privacy to talk about what's happening, this was the closest thing sweet pea could find. especially with all the gawking, stares and judgemental looks they'd been receiving since showing up to their new school this morning.

"i know, she didn't even say "hi" or anything. it's the least she could have done given everything," sweet pea grumbles, watching as toni walks towards them.

"she doesn't remember us," toni says, coming to a stop in front of them. "she literally doesn't remember us. like at all, she introduced herself to me in the bathroom,"

"what the hell?" fangs mutters, "maybe it's an elaborate plan to keep her summer in the snakes den a secret?"

"that is the dumbest thing i have ever heard," toni says crossing her arms over her chest. "you heard how she was talking before she ghosted us, she was over it all, the cliques, school, all of it."

"she said we were her family," sweet pea mumbles, "and then she disappeared. maybe it was all a lie,"

"jesus christ, or maybe, something bad happened to her, and she actually doesn't remember us." toni replies, the annoyance in her voice prominent. "and if she didn't remember us, then how would she know to contact us?"

"i sent her over a hundred texts since she disappeared, none of them have even been opened."

"case and point," toni says, rolling her eyes. "look, sit and stew in your misery, or confront her. i don't know about you guys, but i plan on getting my friend back."

with that toni turns on her heel, and heads back towards the school. fangs sighs, and stands up, brushing the dust off his ass as he turns to stand where toni had just been.

"maybe she's right," he says, looking down at sweet pea. "we know elly, she wouldn't just up and ghost us like this unless something happened. i want our friend back, and i'm with toni on trying by any means necessary to get her back,"

fangs studies sweet pea's face, looking for any indication that he's heard anything he said. after a moment, fangs sighs again, and turns to follow toni back into the school. sweet pea sits there on the bleachers, he watches as his friends grow smaller and smaller the further they get. he groans, and throws his head back. he's frustrated. he hasn't heard a damn thing from you in months, and then he sees you at his new school and suddenly his whole world collapses. he sighs, and pulls his cellphone out of the pocket of his leather jacket. he opens up his texts, and pulls up your messages.

you never showed up, you never called, you just disappeared. well, apparently you hadn't, but for sweet pea you did. other than toni and fangs he had no other friends in common at the time. no way of getting a hold of you when his calls all suddenly hit you voicemail. now here you are, back in his life, but so far from his reach. he had hoped a million times over the last six months that he'd find out what happened, that he'd get some kind of explanation or closure. something. anything.

but when his eyes landed on you, it was like all the anger towards you, and the situation melted away. for a second, it was like you were never gone. then that daydream snapped, and you were rushing away. not an ounce of recognition in your eyes. it hurt. his phone vibrates in his hand, and it brings him back. back to the bleachers, back to the harsh reality that you might have no clue who he is, back to the anger that swirls in his head, back to how much he loves you, and how much his heart hurts because you might no remember any of it.

he looks down at the screen, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees as the bell rings again.

YOU.

"alright, so, what's up?" he asks, as you drop onto the couch.

vegas jumps up beside you, and drops his head into your lap. you run your fingers through his soft fur and try to figure out a way to start this conversation.

"what was i like over the summer?" you ask, looking up at him.

he's standing by the front door, leaning against the archway leading into the living room. he's got his arms crossed and he's watching you silently.

"you were like you are now," he shrugs, "you didn't spend much time home, at first you were busy with cheryl and then you got a job."

"a job?" you ask, that's new information. "where?"

"the twilight drive-in," he replies, "you made some new friends with your co-workers, or so you said. you and archie were barely home over the summer,"

there's a few moments of silence as you digest this new information.

"dad?"

"yeah kiddo?"

"where was i going? why was i in that car?"

"truthfully, i don't know. archie said the two of you had gotten in a pretty heated fight, and you'd stormed out. a few hours later i got a call from sheriff keller,"

you nod, and sigh, leaning forward. you rest your elbows on your knees, and rub your eyes.

"i had a memory come back," you say after a minute, you don't look up at him. "it was weird though, it was really intense. it was like i was inside the memory."

"do you know what triggered it?"

"no," you lie, until you figure out what's going on with you, you plan to keep sweet pea and toni out of things. "it just hit me in the middle of english, and i had to get out of the room. i went to the bathroom and i puked."

"you puked?"

"yeah, nausea hit me seconds after the memory."

"well, at least you're making progress. the doctor said it could take a while,"

you nod, finally looking up at him. he checks his watch, and comes into the livingroom.

"you take it easy okay? don't strain yourself," he kisses your forehead and heads back to the front door. "i love you,"

"love you too dad," you murmur, watching him leave.

when you can no longer hear the rumble of his truck, you decide to head up to your room. until the accident you'd kept a near meticulous set of diaries, if you can find the one you was working on, maybe it can shed some light on what's going on.

it's weird, you're you, living in your body, but up until six months ago you were a completely different person. it's like living inside a stranger. you step into your room, it's a mess. clothes litter the floor, spilling from your closet, empty take away coffee cups, empty mugs from downstairs and energy drink cans litter the top of your dresser and desk. you go to the hall closet across from your room and grab a garbage bag and head back in. might as well clean up.

a few hours later you stand in the center of your now clean room. all your clean clothes have been re-folded or hung up, all the dirty clothes are in the wash and there's not a single thing out of place. except for—you squint, dropping to your knees in front of your bed, leaning down to pull two cardboard boxes from underneath. one is marked MY NOTEBOOKS, DON'T TOUCH (THAT MEANS YOU ARCH) in all caps—obviously your diaries, but the other has no label. you take off the lid and audibly gasp at the contents. sitting on top is a leather jacket with the southside serpents logo on the back, under the jacket is a dark green journal, a white handled switchblade, your old cellphone and a set of keys.

the screen on the phone is shattered, pretty near unusable by most people's standards. no one knew where your phone was after the crash. you'd just written it off as lost... finding it here, in this box changes things. you put it on the charger, and sit cross legged on the floor. maybe it'll be able to turn it on, if not you could to take it to a repair shop. you pick up the jacket, and check all the pockets. inside the left pocket is a half crumpled note, you pull it out and flatten it. it's definitely not your writing. it has one sentence, and it crushes you.

i love you too - sweet pea

you drop your hand holding the paper into your lap. that just makes everything even worse. does he know that you lost your memories? does he know about the accident? does toni? do they think you're pretending? were you on your way to see him when you crashed?

"fuck," you whisper, pulling your knees up to your chest.

you wanted the truth, and you got it, well part of it. how do you process all of this? how do you fix this? god, you just want to scream. throw things. have a little bit of a meltdown. it won't fix anything, but it might make you feel better. you rest your forehead on the edge of your bed and sit there on the floor, the jacket half hanging out of the box.

"hey?" comes archie's voice from the hallway, i jump at the sound. "hey- are you okay?"

you kick the box under your bed and glance up to see archie. he stops at the threshold, looking intently at you. you hear more sets of feet coming up the steps.

"i—"

you want to lie, you want to tell him you're fine. say everything's a-ok. but it's not. it's really not. and then betty, jughead and veronica come up behind archie and the damn breaks. you start violently, and uncontrollably sobbing into my arms. how did you wake up a year and a half older with such resentment for your three best friends? how did your life fall apart so quickly?

"hey, sh, sh, you're okay, everything's okay," archie says dropping to his knees to envelope you in a hug.

the other drop down on the floor with you. veronica and betty rub your back soothingly. you need to apologize, but you can't stop crying. maybe that's just as well, still a meltdown, just a different kind you suppose.

"i'm sorry!" you cry, frantically wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater.

you dislike crying in front of people, and you know most people don't like having someone cry in front of them. you try and steady your breathing.

"hey, you don't have to apologize," veronica says. "we've all kind of been terrible friends since your accident,"

"that's why we're here," betty adds, patting your shoulder comfortingly.

"that's why they're here," jughead says, and betty swats at him and misses. "hey! let me finish woman! i was going to say, i've been a great friend. we had lots of fun working at the drive-in together,"

"jug..." betty says softly, using that same tone people often use when they're tip-toing around things that might hurt you. she shakes her head slightly, "she doesn't—"

"hey! don't talk about me like i'm not here!" you say loudly, all three of them turn to look at you. "i'm not fragile, you don't have to choose your words carefully around me, i have amnesia not brain damage."

"you're right," veronica says, staring each of them down until they nod. "we all need to stop treating you like glass,"

you quickly stand, your back to them for a minute. you take a deep breath, and turn around.

"arch, what were we fighting about when i left?" you ask, and he looks at you for a moment before swallowing, hard.

"you felt abandoned," he says, his eyes falling to the black rug they're sitting on. "you were upset because we were going on our annual nyc trip, but i'd also promised ronnie i'd help her with something in the morning, and i wanted to push the trip back by two, three hours. and you got really upset and exploded on me—it was entirely justified on your end—there was a lot of things you wanted to do together over the summer and i either canceled or forgot. i was a shitty brother."

"no, arch, you weren't. i'm sure i was just being drama—" you start, but archie raises his hand and you stop.

"no, i was being selfish. i made you a promise, and i broke it. i'm sorry," archie says, standing up and pulling you into a tight hug. "i'm sorry, i really am."

"and we're sorry," jughead says, as archie lets you go. "we thought that giving you some space would be a good thing, but we all got a little caught up in our own shit."

"i understand that, however, i've been alone pretty much for six months." you reply, crossing your arms over your chest.

"you've had cheryl, and jason, and reggie—you seemed like you were pretty happy..." betty says, and you shrug, looking away from her. 

"cheryl is nice— but all we talk about is her. jason's fun to hang with but we have nothing in common other than reggie and cheryl. and reggie.." you sigh, staring out your window over their heads. "reggie made sense."

"he made sense?" veronica asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"picking reggie made sense, and don't get me wrong i do like reggie, he's a great guy—a good listener, great at solving problems, fun to hang out with and all—but there's no connection." you sigh, you briefly contemplate telling them about the jacket, about your supposed summer with the serpents, but decide against it for now.

"are you going to break up with him?" archie asks, and you shrug in reply.

"i probably should," you sigh again, why does all of this have to be so damn hard? "did he ask about me when i disappeared this morning?"

"yeah, i told him you weren't feeling well. dad text me about you being home," archie says, and you nod.

"well, i say we grab dinner at pops tonight like old times," veronica says when the silence goes on a beat too long.

"honestly, i would love that, but i have to tie up some lose ends first. i'll meet you guys there at," you pause, walking over to your old phone, tapping the screen, relief shoots through you when it lights up, "say, 6?"

"sounds good," betty says, and they all stand up.

you unplug your phone, pocketing it as jughead, archie and veronica file out, heading back downstairs, but betty lingers.

"you okay, cooper?" you ask, teasingly.

she turns towards you sharply, hands clasped behind her back, "this morning, i— i really was trying to touch base with you. i know that the whole southside thing kind of has half the school losing it, but you told archie no, and i wasn't going to push it. he mentioned that you were upset about the group not reconnecting with you after everything, and i just wanted to see how you were— are."

"i owe you an apology for how i acted, i was frustrated with arch, not that that's an excuse, but i just kind of snapped. i'm really sorry, i shouldn't have taken that out on you betty,"

"your anger is justified, we should have been by you every step of the way—"

"you were busy, things happen. i missed you guys, sure, but this entire thing has been insane. i woke up six months ago with no memories from the last year. and to be fair, it's not like i made much of an effort with you guys."

"well, we're all okay now. and, you could never truly get rid of us,"

you let out a short laugh, throwing your arm over her shoulder, leading her out into the hallway.

"and you couldn't get rid of me if you tried," you say, and betty grins at you, her arm circling your back as you descend the stairs.

you're standing outside the mantle's house, trying to decide if now is really the best time to be doing this, but your rationality wins out and you move towards the door before you lose your nerve. you raise your hand to knock, but the door flies open and you're met face to face with mrs. mantle. 

"hi dear, are you okay?" she asks, a warm smile on her face. 

"yes. ma'am, i just..." you were not prepared for his mom to open the door. 

that was actually the worse possible thing that could have happened. mrs. mantle has always been such a kind, and wonderful person towards you. you almost wonder if she's the reason you'd let things between you and reggie continue as long as they have. 

"sorry, is reggie home?" you ask, and she nods, stepping out of the way to let you in.

"he's upstairs doing homework, are you staying for supper?" 

the longer you speak to her the more you're dreading following through with this. she's such a nice lady, and you're not entirely sure how reggie's going to handle this. you really don't want to lose her. 

you force yourself to shake your head, "no ma'am, i just have to talk to reggie and then i have dinner plans with my brother," 

she nods again, and you slip your shoes off, and head upstairs. 

you've been here so many times that you don't even have to think about where you're going. as such, this leaves time for you to panic and try to talk yourself out of it. you're not sure why. reggie had been a crush of yours for a long time, from middle school to freshman year at least. when you woke up without your memories from the last year, you'd still felt that way about him. you'd been excited when he initially asked you out. mind you that excitement fizzled rather quickly, realizing what the arrangement meant for your relationship.

you were disappointed, sure, but you weren't blindsided by any means. reggie had always given you the kind of vibe that he wasn't interested in settling down just yet. so, when you push his partially closed door open and find him with his tongue down the throat of a different cheerleader, you're not entirely shocked. the girl notices you first, she's younger than you and reggie by at least a year, and she squeals, pulling away from him. he doesn't notice you at first, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion before he follows her eyeline. they both look like deer, and you're the headlights.

"uh, h-hey..." reggie musters, sitting down beside the girl, "i think you should probably go,"

"y-yeah, g-go...." she says, jumping up and flying out of the room.

you stare at him, unsure of how to continue. sure, he'd made this infinitely easier on you, but at the same time you still find yourself hurting a bit.

"i'm sorry," he says, dropping his head into his hands.

"despite our "arrangement", reg," you use air quotes, "i thought you respected me more than this,"

"i do!" his voice comes out loud, then softer, "i do."

the silence that follows is deafening, and feels like it stretches for hours. he doesn't look at you the whole time, his eyes trained on the ground.

"well, you've made this decision a whole lot easier for me. i'm breaking up with you, reg." you sigh, "i don't hate you; i'm not mad at you; i am a bit disappointed, but i think we were kind of doomed from the start. maybe in a couple months we can try to be friends, just friends. if you're down with that..."

he raises his head, guilt written clear across his features, but he nods, "i'm sorry, sunshine. i really, really am."

"i know reg," you say, leaning down to give his hand a squeeze. "so am i,"

you turn to leave, hesitanting in the doorway.

"reg?"

"yeah?"

you turn to look at him, "see you around,"

4:50pm. you have about an hour and ten minutes before you have to meet archie and the others. you plop down on your bed, and flip your diary open. there are only eight entries.

entry 1: may 16th

i can't do this anymore. faking everything. it's driving me fucking insane. betty, ronnie, and archie are always flaking on me. internship this. summer job that. charity this. sorry i forgot that. jug is the only one who hasn't consistently left me hanging, and we're not even all that close. that being said, out of all of them, i'm starting to change my tune on that. he's even offered to talk to his manager about possibly getting me a summer job at the twilight. which would be killer, i'm there for most of the showings anyway. at least i'll get paid for doing something i already enjoy. then at least i'll have something going on. i'm honestly not ok with them constantly rescheduling things but for whatever reason i just sit there and take it. i need to start putting myself first, and find some friends that put in just as much effort as i do. i wonder if the three of them will even notice if i stop putting in the effort.

entry 2: may 19th

guess who has a new job!!! me!!!!!!!! i'm so excited, i don't think i've been this happy about something in a long time. i start tomorrow night, and jug's already introduced me to some of his coworkers. i'll be working in concession. we're even allowed to sit outside and watch the movie when we're between customers. i'm so looking forward to having this. betty, ronnie and i were supposed to go shopping today but they both just texted to cancel. go figure.

entry 3: may 20th

first day was a success! my new coworkers are so nice, i even made quick friends with a girl named toni. she's got pink highlights in her hair which really suit her. i also overheard that she's a southside serpent. mind you she doesn't really seem like the kind of people i’ve been told are in that motorcycle gang. then again, you're not supposed to believe everything you hear.

okay!! it's later now, and toni asked me if i wanted to hang out with her and her friends at the quarry tomorrow!! that's the first time in a really long time someone’s asked me to do something with them! i, of course said yes! i’m so excited!!

just got back from the quarry, i had so much fun. more fun than i’ve had all year! toni is so much fun to be around, she has the best energy, and it's just so refreshing to be around someone who actually wants to do things and live in the moment. the last time i hung out with ronnie and betty they were both glued to their cellphones, undoubtedly texting jug and archie. i also met her two best friends sweet pea and fangs, who are also super cool. they were really nice, and welcoming. i was pretty nervous, because i’d seen the two of them at the drive-in with fp a bunch of times, so i knew they were serpents, but they were both so nice! i’m really starting to wonder if the serpents are as “bad” and as much of a problem as other northsiders insist they are.

entry 4: june 21st

oh god, it’s been a month since my last entry. i have so much to write about… i honestly don't know where to start. i’ve been hanging out with toni, sweet pea and fangs pretty consistently since that day they invited me to the quarry. i’ve stopped chasing archie and his friends to hang out, and i was right in my guess that they wouldn't notice if i stopped trying. i haven't received a single text from any of them. i mean, i have from archie, but he’s my brother so that doesn't really count in my opinion. and i guess jug too, but we're coworkers and he was the only non-flake before anyway. either way, it’s been so nice having toni, fangs and sweet pea reaching out to make plans with me and when i reach out to them they actually follow through. we all have a lot in common; we enjoy a lot of the same music and tv shows.

toni is a god with her camera, i don't think i’ve seen more beautiful photography, and she takes the BEST candids. she’s taken so many pictures of us, she’s going to get me some physical copies for my scrapbook.

fangs can get you ANYTHING. he’s such a smooth talker that people just end up giving him things. he even got us into a sold out _ show. i’m really not sure how he managed, but we got escorted by security to the barricade.

i was supposed to go with betty, archie and ronnie, but i decided to flake on them for a change. that did get me a few texts from each of them, and i didn't answer them. i just turned off my phone and enjoyed the show. it was amazing!!!!!! i had an absolute blast.

i’ve also been spending more time with sweet pea… alone… (obviously, with toni & fangs too) he’s nothing like i thought he’d be when we met. here i go again judging a book by its cover, shame on me. but he’s so sweet, it took a bit to get him to open up to me, toni says he’s just protective, which i both completely agree and understand. with friends as cool as those two, i don't blame him. he goes out of his way for everyone; holding the door for old ladies, standing in the middle of a busy street so kids can cross. he seems so scary and mean, but that's just his defence. we've been getting a really close, and every time he asks me to hangout i get butterflies.

we're hanging out tonight too, i’m going to pick him up in twenty minutes and we're going to the quarry. i’m sitting in a booth at pop’s waiting for our food. i really like him, and i enjoy spending time with him. toni said she’s never seen him so happy, and that she thinks he likes me. i really hope he does, because i like him. i might even tell him as much tonight… that might be a bit too much, actually. i don't know. oh, pop’s calling my order, i’ll update you later!

just got back from the quarry, and oh. my. god. sweet pea kissed me! i was all nervous, and i decided i was going to tell him how i felt and before i got the words out, he leaned over and just did it! i’ve had a few kisses before, some good, some not so much, but this one? it was the BEST i’ve ever had. that thing you read about in fanfics or novels about fireworks or butterflies, it's REAL. he asked me out on a date too, and i’m literally so excited. i called toni before i added this update and she squealed. she was right, he does like me. mine and sweet pea’s date is wednesday night, we're going to watch a movieat the drive-in and then in the morning we're all going camping at sweetwater river.

my phone is ringing… it’s archie? weird, he usually texts me. i’m going to answer him, i’ll be right back.

just got off the phone with arch. mom is coming down from chicago for the weekend, and we were supposed to go together to pick her up, now he’s backed out on me and i have to go alone. what could be more important than picking mom up from the airport?! especially considering we rarely see her. whatever, i guess it’ll give us time to talk.

entry 5: june 30th

just dropped mom back off at the airport. this visit was so fucked. i picked her up, we had a lovely conversation, and then she asked me where arch was and i had to lie to her. he said he was going to call her and let her know, but apparently he didn't. then, he didn’t show up for family dinner, which he was also supposed to help me cook (spoiler: he DIDN’T). when mom and dad asked where he was, i was like a dear caught in headlights. i have no fucking clue!! i called him, and BAM! voicemail. mom calls him and woah, he picks up first ring. he lies, and gets away with it. arch was gone all weekend which screwed up my itinerary. i mean, seeing mom was the highlight, obviously, but archie and i planned all this stuff and we didn't get to do any of it. not to mention, archie had promised he’s take mom to the airport because he was gone all weekend, and then he didn't show! again! i had plans with toni, and i had to apologize and cancel on her (which isn't fair to her or me (but fuck us i guess??)) anyway, i’m banking on archie cancelling our yearly trip to nyc with everything going on. i’d lay money on it now.

entry 6: july 1st

i’m so mad right now. archie saw me and sweet pea coming out of pop’s with lunch, and got in sweets face. he has NO RIGHT. especially considering how much he's left me hanging lately. i will admit, i did something i shouldn't have, but he said something he definitely shouldn't have (that i shant repeat here (just know it's vile)) and i then punched him. sweets then threw me over his shoulder and carried me to my car. i bruised the crap out of my hand, archie’s got a hard face i guess. toni and fangs tried to lighten the mood when we got back but i couldn't help myself. sweet pea and i ended up leaving early, and we just drove around for a while. when i finally did calm down, he thanked me for standing up for him. why wouldn't i?? archie has no right to treat any of my friends like that, let alone my maybe boyfriend (we haven't really labelled it yet). and archie’s one to talk about people’s “priorities” and who they “really” are, seeing as toni, sweet pea and fangs have done nothing but be great friends and have been there for me all summer and he (MY! TWIN! BROTHER!) couldn’t even see his mother while she was down from chicago. i haven't seen archie since our altercation at pop’s and i’m more than okay with that.

entry 7: august 15th

sweet pea and i got into a fight. it’s nothing major, and i know he’s just looking out for me, but somethings aren’t really any of his business. namely, things involving my family. i was telling him about mine and archie’s annual trip to nyc, and how this will be the first year that it’s just the two of us. mom and dad usually go with us, and it’s the highlight of our summer. i’ve been really looking forward to it, and that i’m hoping this will help mend the tear we’ve both been helping create in our relationship. i’m not going to entirely blame arch because i’ve definitely not helped… especially when i punched him in the face in july. he’s finally speaking to me again. it took a couple of weeks and awkwardly dodging each other but we’re at least talking again. which is progress i guess. we haven’t talked about it either. he just walked into my room last tuesday and started telling about this video he saw, and then everything was fine again. we’ve always been like that, but what archie said really isn’t ok, and what i did really isn’t ok either. i plan to bring it up on our trip. anyway, back to sweets, he’s worried i’m going to get super hyped up about this trip and then archie’s going to yank the carpet from under my feet (kind of like he’s been doing all summer, but i digress). we leave in two days, and so far everything seems to be going well. i should apologize to sweets before we leave though, cause i did kind of snap at him… adding that to the to-do list.

entry 8: august 17th

fuck archie. FUCK. HIM. sweets was right. FUCK EVERYTHING. GODDAMN NORTHSIDERS. 

that was it, the last entry. you wrote that the night of your accident. that's why you were in your car. that's where you were headed. you close the diary, and smack it off your forehead. you close your eyes, and then let out a scream of frustration. you throw the book across your room, and pull your old phone from your pocket. you sift through your text threads, you'd sent more outgoing messages to betty, veronica and archie then they'd sent back to you for months before your accident. turns out they weren't  just shitty friends afterwards. 

you pause for a moment, your finger hovering over fp jones' contact. why would you have jughead's dad's number? up until hiram started causing a stir in town, jughead hadn't even been living with his dad so you never would've needed to contact him. you click it and a bunch of text messages load in. 

things were falling into place for you. they were shitty friends before. you were going to need new ones regardless, that's how you ended up in friendship purgatory at riverdale high. cheryl just isn't your cup of tea, and you're still not sure how you feel about reggie after everything you witnessed this afternoon. one thing you do know; you owe some people an explanation. you close out of the messages, and go to your gallery. the first picture that you see is one of you, toni, sweet pea and fangs, your faces all pressed together cheek to cheek, smiling widely. you smile, and then suddenly it's like a damn breaks and a years worth of memories come flooding in. you drop the phone, and rush downstairs, grabbing your keys from the bowl by the front door. 

"you guys are terrible fucking friends," you say, not really caring to control the level of your voice as you stomp towards your brother and his friends. "not you jug, you're fine, i'm talking about these three."

archie, veronica and betty share confused looks then look up at you. you tower over their table, anger coursing through you. you stare the three of them down quietly, eyes darting from one to the other, to the other.

"uh, didn't we already go over that?" veronica asks, her tone light and joking. 

"not really," you say, "i got my memories back, and you guys were fucking terrible. what did i do to deserve being cancelled on, and forgotten about so easily by you three? especially you arch, you're my brother. my twin. you of everyone are supposed to have my back!"

betty and veronica's eyes drop to their laps, and archie freezes, his eyes wide. 

 "while i appreciate your apology from before archie, with all the facts, i don't accept. what you did was fucking shitty, and i never would have done that to you. never. as for you two, if you don't like me, or just don't like hanging out with me, or just don't want to be my friend, stop making plans with me. i'm done being treated like that, and if any of you want to make things right, actually make things right, you'll be able to find me with my real friends; toni, sweet pea and fangs. who, unlike you three, actually like spending time with me. and for the record, are really good people, and deserve to be treated with respect." you turn on your heels to leave, and then pause at the last booth, whipping back around, "also, fuck you guys."

you pray that you're right about this. you never hung out with them during school, so you weren't sure if they were going to be at the quarry tonight. the weather's still nice, so you're hoping that you're right. you turn onto the familiar dirt road, and catch sight of their bikes in the distance of your headlights. relief washes over you as you get closer, you see three figures walking towards you and you pull in beside the bikes, like you had so many times before. you turn the car off, and jump out. 

"fucking hell, andrews! you scared the shit out of us!" you hear fangs yell, a bark of laughter leaving him. 

"guys--" you say, walking closer to them, your heart beating hard against your ribs. 

you almost wonder if it's going to beat right out of your chest, you're  so nervous, but you're so happy to see them. you missed them. 

"told you she knew who we were." sweet pea sneers, cutting you off. "what schools out so you can be friends with us again?"

"what? no--" you start but he cuts you off again. 

"where were you? why are you back now?" he bites out, and toni smacks him. 

"shut up and let her talk." toni says, nodding at you. "go,"

"i got into a car accident on august 17th. i have no idea how, or what happened, but i was trapped in that car for four hours, and spent two days in a coma. then when i woke up, i couldn't remember anything that happened over the last year. i now remember everything, and am really, really sorry for unintentionally ghosting you guys for six months." you pause to take a breath, and gage their reactions, "i know how this all sounds, but i promise i'm telling the truth,"

toni smirks, stepping forward to throw her arms around you, "i'm glad you're back, i fucking missed you."

you hug her tightly, "i missed you guys way more,"

"i bet you did," she laughs, letting you go, and stepping back.

you hug her tightly, "i missed you guys way more,"

"i bet you did," she laughs, letting you go, and stepping back.

she turns to look at fangs, and sweet pea and holds her hand out, “c’mon boys, cough it up.”

begrudgingly, they both pull five dollars out of their pockets and drop it into her hand. fangs then moves past her, and scoops you into a bone crushing hug.

“missed you,” he whispers, then lets you go.

“missed you too,” you smile, and the pair of them slowly slink back to the fire they’d been sitting around, giving you and sweet pea space.

sweet pea stares at you, dark eyes unreadable, his posture tense. it takes you back to how he was when you met for the first time. closed off, on guard, and analytical. you want to reach out for him, wrap yourself around him and never let go. you’re not sure he’s ready for that, so you shove your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. your fingers catching the slip of paper he’d given you months ago, curling around it, you put it out and his eyes close briefly.

“i understand if you need space,” you say carefully, unfolding the small scrap. “but if you ever actually meant this, you have to know that i never would have left you hanging like that intentionally.”

he takes the note from you, his eyes leaving yours to look at it. he stays quiet for what feels like an eternity.

“i know.” he finally speaks, eyes still on the note. “deep down, i knew you wouldn't have left. not when you socked your brother for me. i was just so mad… at myself for what i said to you last, at you, for not following through on your text… then seeing you at school– it didn't make sense. instead of really thinking about it, like toni did, i just–” his eyes meet yours again, “i don't know, i let my fears take hold, i guess.”

"i--"

"JUST KISS ALREADY; YOU LOVE HER, HE LOVES YOU, THE END-"

"FANGS, SHUT UP!" toni yells, the sound of her smacking him and him asking her to stop follows.

you and sweet pea share a glance, and then both break out in giggles. when the giggles subside, you step closer to him, your hand landing on his shoulder.

"i love you, sweets, and if you need time—"

"i've had enough time, what i need now, is you." he says before pulling you against him, and kissing you.

he pulls back briefly, letting you catch your breath, "i love you too,"

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

It's Bothering me so much that Taylor Swift is so fake smart-girl coded, I need to say this:

I have a degree in both Philosophy and English Literature....

She used the term Soliloquy wrong in her song by using it to refer to people espousing nonsense while complaining in an echo-chamber about her.

Instead, a soliloquy is the most honest and introspective a character will ever be. Often the character will stand to the front center of the stage and, as if in a dream, speak openly to themselves (and in respect to the audience) lay out the truth, or the agony of whichever conflict haunts the plot. So, anyway she's just plain wrong in her usage of the term.

I am not giving a sanctimonious soliloquy. Miss Taylor Swift, you are wrong, and I am speaking honestly.

She finishes the lyric "sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see" and I just want to mention that a soliloquy requires an audience... so she does not know what she is talking about by saying that there is no audience for a soliloquy.

Also, for the record, I don't think Taylor Swift knows anything of substance about Aristotle. I, on the other hand, took a three-hour long oral exam over Aristotle's life work while out-of-my-mind-high on Dayquil and pain meds after a surgery. I got an "A", and, somehow, I lived through that, I doubt the validity of Swift's claims to know anything at all about philosophy. Especially, considering how all her songs are about as deep as a puddle.

She's completely lost her credibility.

The woman did not even finish High School in a traditional, well-rounded way. I think she read a handful of Joe's books and now thinks real highly of herself.

Edit: I don't mean to make fun of her for being dumb. I'm frustrated that she's "stepping on my lawn" and making her legion of fans think that she totally knows what she's talking about when it comes to literary references in her work or philosophy. It's obvious that she does not actually understand the concepts she attempts to engage with.

Her only real literary skill is name dropping actually talented writers or philosophers in her songs.

Edit 2: Since some people want to come on this post and tell me that I am being needlessly pedantic about her use of words. Go away. A soliloquy is an ancient literary form, one which transcends cultures and centuries, and I, as a scholar of English Literature, am in the position to say that Swift is speaking about the form incorrectly. She obviously did not even google the form, it's clear she has very little real acquaintance with half the literature concept or authors she names drops.

Sure, soliloquies can be unreliable (Hamlet's "To Be, or not to be" is the most obvious example). However, the fact of the matter is that soliloquy hinges on the Honesty of the character. Swift writing that it's actually the opposite of honesty proves to me that she has no real idea about the literary form.

[winterdaphne2]

Favorite Johnlock Fics (BBC Sherlock)

I went on a bit of a fic-reading spree this spring, and this list of favorites is the result! There are many other fics that I’ve enjoyed reading, but these are the ones that I’ve really loved for one reason or another.

I’ve tagged the authors whose tumblrs I could find. If that’s you, thank you so much for sharing your writing with us. If your work is on here, you wrote something that I really treasure.

1. A River Without Banks, by Chryse. E, 203,286 words. Starts right after Season 3. A mix of Sherlock’s perspective, John’s perspective, and the perspectives of other characters. Sherlock-focused for the first half.

Author’s summary: “‘You love this, being Sherlock Holmes.’ He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?”

This is my absolute favorite. The author’s characterization of Sherlock is amazingly accurate, and Sherlock’s character development over the course of the story is breathtakingly executed and moving. The plot is fantastic and takes you on a page-turning emotional roller coaster, especially for about the first half of the story. I was also continually impressed by how many details from the show and references to earlier parts of the fic the author was able to weave in throughout while still keeping the story creative and original. Most importantly, though, I love this fic for the message that it sends about Sherlock and John’s love, which is a far more positive message than the one that the actual show settled upon in the end. I’m grateful that we have this version of their love story, and, personally, I like to pretend that this was Season 4 and how the show ended.

2. Another Country, by Chryse. E, 67,414 words. Starts right after the end of TAB. Sherlock’s perspective.

Sherlock spends one month and three days under house arrest in 221B, trying to get clean from the drugs, track down the new Moriarty, and figure out what the hell is going on between him and John.

Another fantastic work by Chryse. This author really gets Sherlock’s character, and once again the characterization of Sherlock is spot-on and convincing. There are a few other elements that also make this a compelling story, including smart use of minor characters, a solid central mystery, and a complicated relationship between Sherlock and John that includes a pretty convincing post-Season-3 version of John. Excellent.

3. walk through ghosts, by @augustbird. M, 6,125 words. Written between Seasons 2 and 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “The thing is: Sherlock thought that the two of them would have forever to figure it out.”

This is the saddest fic I have ever read, and so beautifully written. The author captures Season 2 Sherlock’s character perfectly; the fact that this story feels so real is what makes it devastating. The day after I read this, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and walked around with my heart physically aching in my chest.

4. Nature and Nurture, by @earlgreytea68. M, 203,273 words. Set sometime after Season 2. Alternates between John’s and Sherlock’s perspectives, but mostly told from John’s.

The British government clones Sherlock. He and John decide to raise the baby.

A true fandom classic. The premise sounds super cracky, but somehow it really works. This fic is surprisingly serious at times, but overall it is the cutest and funniest thing I have ever read in my life. Basically 200,000+ words of Sherlock and John being adorable gay fathers together and working through some feelings, with line-by-line some of the most hilarious dialogue ever. The five accompanying ficlets that the author wrote as short follow-ups are also worth checking out; my favorites were School (T, 4,753 words) and The Radovljica Apicultural Museum (T, 4,540 words).

5. To a Friend Who Sent Me Roses, by @algyswinburne. E, 16,147 words. Set sometime after Season 4 (but ignores TFP, as we all should lol). Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “Five times Sherlock is mistaken for John’s partner and Rosie’s father, and one time it isn’t a mistake.”

This fic is sad, sweet, and hot by turns. Absolutely lovely to read in so many ways, and with so many great details and lines. I think this story offers convincing portrayals of what Sherlock’s and John’s characters might be like after it all and how they might finally get together. This and A River Without Banks are my favorite alternate endings to the show. Beautiful!

6. for all that bitter delights will sour, by @darcylindbergh. E, 9,585 words. Set sometime after Season 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

John initiates a sexually and emotionally abusive relationship with Sherlock.

The second saddest fic I have read. I would never want what happens in this fic to happen to Sherlock and John, so I don’t exactly recommend it as a Johnlock fic. But as a short story, this is a gem, full of absolutely gorgeous and incredibly moving writing. It depicts difficult themes very deftly, in lines and paragraphs that I had to stop to read over and over. I appreciate this as an emotionally powerful and thought-provoking piece of writing inspired by Sherlock, so for that reason I think it deserves to be on this list.

7. The Ground Beneath Your Feet, by Chryse. E, 68,803 words. Set after Season 3, but as if the last two minutes of HLV never happened. “The plane went on to Eastern Europe, and this is what came after.” John’s perspective.

This fic is pretty dark; the author describes it as “a PTSD story in which John was wholly devoted to Sherlock.” I don’t love it quite as much as the other two fics by Chryse that I’ve listed here, but that’s mostly because those two are just so amazing! I still really enjoyed this one. It was wonderful to see a kind and caring version of John emerge out of Season 3, and the story had several memorable moments, including one particularly nail-biting scene. I also really liked seeing John and Mycroft become friends as they bonded over their shared concern for Sherlock.

8. The Adventures of a Single Girl in London (Plus a Consulting Detective), by @earlgreytea68. M, 32,913 words. Set soon after Season 3. Alternates between different characters’ perspectives.

Bored with life at her new cottage in Sussex, Janine returns to London and moves in with Sherlock at 221B. Hilarity, heartbreak, and eventual Johnlock ensue.

This is a Season 3 fix-it fic that features an absolutely lovely friendship between Sherlock and Janine and the best version of Janine that I’ve come across in a fic. Sherlock is vulnerable and sweet, John is an absolute idiot, Janine is perfect, and the last two chapters just make me scream. Great stuff.

And that’s it for now! If you know of any other fics that I might like based on the above, I’d be happy to hear about them, so drop me a line!

Happy reading 😊

[hypothalamuthesis926]

Perspective of an Outsider at NRC

”𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦... 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙤𝙨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘺 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨?”

𝙏𝙒𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙒𝙊𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿 & 𝙉𝙋𝘾 𝙊𝙐𝙏𝙎𝙄𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍.

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎: Swearing, Slightly(?) graphic descriptions of injuries, mentions of nsfw, spoilers for book1 and book2.

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: Reader is absolutely an asshole, reader has a plot armor greater than tanjiro and yuu combined, chaos everywhere, reader is an 2nd-year Heartslabyul student that loves their oshi a bit too much, has some memes references, characters might be ooc.

I'm guessing this is like 5000 words or even more, I wasn't able to copypaste it so i couldn't check the wordcount.

Dorms included: 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙎𝙇𝘼𝘽𝙔𝙐𝙇 & 𝙎𝘼𝙑𝘼𝙉𝘼𝘾𝙇𝘼𝙒

Enjoy! - Iwa

Sometimes, all you need in your life is a sprinkle of drama, chaos, and nightmares to ease your boredom.

You were simply a student studying in one of the most prestigious academy, Night Raven College.

Or it's well-known term;

𝗔 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘀. (AKA filled with emotionally repressed mage nepo-babies that can't buy therapy even with mommy's money.)

You weren't exactly rich, nor famous.

You just got here by the entrance exam, which you 𝘤𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 got a slightly above-average score.

Despite that, you were just another NPC in a school full of promising prodigies.

And now that you were assigned to the dorm of the strict queen that once reigned her land dutifully, Heartslabyul, everything in your life seems to be going smoothly....

*𝙎𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍*

.

.

.

.

.

It seems.

You were standing at the frontlines, watching as your batchmates threw an egg at your 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 house-warden, 𝙍𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨.

From a duel between two mere 1styears and housewarden to straight up rebellion against Riddle's authority.

Murmurs filled the garden as they watch their housewarden, utterly speechless as he pick up the cracked shell of an egg out of his hair, eyes wide open with an unreadable expression.

Man, the freshman just had to slap the housewarden too. You won't be surprised if he starts crashing out.

The situation before you almost feels like you were witnessing the French Revolution all over again. But in a magic school filled with rich kids that had a weird system of social monarchy...

Riddle Rosehearts is the Dorm-leader of your dorm, 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙪𝙡. Similar to the Queen Of Hearts herself, he enforces strict rules that bestows negative consequences once you break them.

Even you broke the rules multiple times, causing the house-warden to make a certain expression once he lays eyes on you.

Not like you care about getting punished for the rules, in some way, despite your normalcy, you were quite rebellious.

In fact, you find Riddle quite annoying, getting worked up by simple rules. Like imagine eating hamburger steak on a tuesday would get you collared?

(Ignoring the fact you broke almost half of the rules without anyone's acknowledgement and got away with some if you were lucky)

.... Ahem.

Despite his petite physique, Riddle is pretty tense and intimidating to interact with. Top student and all, he studies so much that he has little to no Internet knowledge! Talking to him is similar to interacting with a privileged victorian child that knows nothing of modern technology.

Despite that, he had also another title.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙮𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩.

Known for his top skills in almost every subject, Riddle was also known for his tyranny, everyone who breaks the rules, would be disobeying him. Whoever disobeys him, results in punishment and loses their magic until he says so.

Despite his stern exterior, he is hardworking and harsh with himself as he is with others. You noticed after a few interactions with him, that made you 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 respect the tyrant.

Seeing him trembling pathetically like a stray cat getting splashed in water almost made you feel an ounce of pity for this housewarden, until he suddenly bursted out in anger—

"𝗢𝗙𝗙 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗!"

Just one command and a terrifying amount of people were being victim to Riddle's Unique Magic; "𝙊��𝙛 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙"

A spell that constricts your magic, almost like getting your head cut off. A way to get people to beg for mercy. Truly terrifying. Magic is as important as a mage's life. Without it, you were merely a downgraded version of a human itself— like pre-historical homosapiens with no intelligence nor consciousness whatsoever.

Oh shit, did you just had a shallow foreshadowing?

As the surrounding people falls victim by the red tyrant's outrage, you close your eyes as you brace for the impact of Riddle's Unique Magic.

.

?

Oh....

Seems like he missed. You sighed in relief, putting your hand to your chest. You really thought that the collar would be aiming for your neck for like, the one-hundredth time since Riddle became housewarden. Plot armor is the best protection. :)

As chaos starts unfolding before your eyes, something strikes within you, a certain instinct rising from the depths of your body.

.

Ah.

You had to take a quick shit.

Feeling your lower-body rumbling, not from hunger, but from the absolute urge to let out a big fat lump of poo, you slowly walk away from the crowd that was currently full of collared people.

Now you successfully escaped from enemy territory!

What could possibly happen after this chaos? You wonder as you casually stride away from the Heartslabyul portal, like your body wasn't rushing you to hurry up and go to the bathroom.

After taking a big fat pile of poo, you walk towards your beloved dorm that 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺𝘺𝘺 isn't flooding with students vacuating, sliding between a crowd of collared students as they run out of the magic portal, what disaster shall your eyes feast upon today?

You gently enter the portal...

.

.

.

.

.

.

What the fuck.

The sky was suddenly darker in comparison from before, the garden maze that was once neat and tidy— now filthy and covered in thorns. The bushes that was tamed and properly cared of— now rotting and dying. It was like some type of change in genre from a casual RPG MMORPG game— to a psychological horror game about escaping your near-insanity-mentally-unstable-tyrant-housewarden!

The flamingo crochets are trembling in fear, feeling the bad vibes in the air... and the hamsters probably got squished into mashed bloody pool of potatoes or whatever.

Then you hear manic laughter, of a voice that was familiar, and had a certain tone that you always known.

Riddle Rosehearts, becoming a literal ink monster, fighting his own kind. His hair transformed into a darker hue of red, ink surrounding his whole body as his eyes went from cloudy grey to crimson. From behind, was a giant ink figure that seems to be consuming all of his magic. Did stress from studies turn him into an over-powered prodigy demonlord? You wonder.

"RIDDLE!" The students cry out.

This looks straight out of a shounen anime fighting scene... You deadpanned in the corner of a tall bush near the group of students.

An idea popped up, and your hand hovered to your pocket, getting your phone as you zoom in the camera to the housewarden and the heartslabyul students knocking sense into eachother.

Welp. Gonna make your time here worthy, atleast.

Hiding in the bush, you angle your phone towards certain dormmates..

One was a dude with a heart on his face. He was the one who challenged the dorm-leader to a duel. Ace Trappola. You heard that he was almost expelled along with Deuce Spade at the first day.

The other had a spade this time, and beautiful blue-colored hair. He also challenged the dorm-leader to a duel for his status along with Ace. They certainly got guts for sure, challenging Riddle Rosehearts out of all people...

Though it was low-key funny that they both lost within a few seconds, not even one foot away from his position, the tyrant had already caught the two mice in a bind.

The third had a half-up hairstyle, with bright orange hair and a diamond on his right cheek. It was Cater Diamond, one of your friends. Not close enough for you to call bestfriend, though. You two would chat about magicam and stuff. The most memorable moment with Diamond was just the time where you lended him your spare tripod.

The green-haired dude, who you remember to be the vice, was Trey Clover. He seemed to be the closest to Riddle. Sometimes you see him soothing the dorm-leader whenever he was getting off-hand. He was a peace-maker, thats for sure.

And here's the last, the person that piqued your interest the most— 𝗬𝘂𝘂. The one that sort-of invaded the opening ceremony, the magicless human. Who somehow enrolled in the school due to the Headmage's "kindness". They seem pretty 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸. Why exactly is there a magicless human in a magic school? If you had to describe them with one word, it would be 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀.

They also got a pet weasel with them, though you don't even bother knowing the pet's name. You'll stick with fire weasel. How efficient, though the prefect has no magic, no use whatsoever, they could always use the weasel as a magic fire cannon.

You continue hiding in the corner of Heartslabyul, confident that your presence will not be found out due to how little your presence is, you were a non-playable character in a school full of main-characters.

And you are absolutely taking it to your advantage, for the sake of entertainment.

Almost everything that was in the garden maze was floating. Like Riddle's magic had some type of upgrade in anti-gravitational spells and decided to apply it to all of the dorm. Riddle threw the throny bushes towards the group in anger, emotions all jumbled up like a sticky pile of goo.

He certainly is 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 to think rationally right now. It was the first-year duo's fault for pushing him to the limits. You thought.

You were glad that you knew how to nullify the magic. Every bush was floating— 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯.

Seems like they didn't notice, much to your benefit. Ignoring the shouts of battle and dodging the small thorny roses that almost went straight to your face, You will definitely entertain some people and post this later.

After the group finally defeated the housewarden, they all come together near the currently unconscious dormleader, who got bonked in the head by the magicless prefect using some kind of.... wooden sword? You would ask why they would bring it in the first place but even so, the people here are crazy. So if someone who was magicless was able to enroll here, then they must be crazy. That was the conclusion you got from studying here for a year. (Ignoring the fact you are probably one of them, Laugh-out-loud.)

You'd admit, you didn't expect that from the prefect. It 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 changing your views about them being '𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴'.

"Riddle." Trey called out.

In response, the rose tyrant flutters his eyes open, then he suddenly woke up in a bolt.

"Gah!" Riddle quickly sat up.

"He's back!" Ace said, a mix of relief and irritation in his tone.

"Well, finally... we were close to losing our heads here cause we thought you weren't gonna wake up!" Cater sighed in relief.

"What exactly happened here?" Voice still breathy from all the blot his body 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 consumed.

"Ah, Rosehearts-kun has regained consciousness." Crowley walked in, eyeing the boys to check whether they were injured.

Was it just you or you didn't notice the headmage there until now?

"Don't worry, Riddle. Just rest up." Trey reassured.

"That is just the pampering that made him crash out in the first place! The garden is destroyed from top to bottom, and we almost died!" Ace contorted as he crossed his arms.

They continued chatting, until your ears pick up on a certain person's voice.

"The truth is, I wanted to have the chestnut tart. And I don't care if the roses were white, nor the flamingos being pink. And I like honey and sugar cubes in my tea, and milktea is much better than lemon tea." Riddle continued, then a sudden burst of emotion that seemed almost uncharacteristic consumed him.

"A-and after every meal, i want to sit in the table and get along with e-everyone else.. A-and i really want to play with trey and chenya more..." As he continued, the dorm-leader's stern exterior crashed out. He let out a heartbreaking cry, much like his inner child was finally coming out after suppressing it for years.

"Riddle Rosehearts in tears at 4K.... #WOW" Cater said sarcastically.

You almost thought of the same sentence mentally, you swear.

Seeing the group all together safe and sound(except for one person), you wondered if you were the audience of a fairy-tale live adaption, watching the ending where they defeat the villain.

That being said, you 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 expected Riddle to be like that. Though you aren't empathetic nor sympathetic much, you could tell that anyone in the tyrant's position would be suffocating and suffering.

*𝘾𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠!*

What the students didn't know was that in a click, the video has been recorded.

Satisfied with the entertainment you've watched, You walked away carefully to escape the dorm premises, making sure they wouldn't notice.

*𝗖𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸*

......Until you suddenly step on your precious keychain of your Oshi.

The sound echoed throughout the garden maze, in a flash, you quickly hid in the nearby bush, heart jumping from surprise.

𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵! You wish you were permanently bonded with the grass right now. Fuck life.

In response of the sound, the group turned their heads hearing the noise.

"Is it me or my ears picked up on somethin'?" Grim asked.

"I heard it too. Probably the hamster escaping out of the cage due to all the chaos and all." Ace joked, looking at Riddle with a sarcastic look that screams "It's your fault" all over.

"Wah! Then shouldn't we check on them?!" Deuce said, concern visible in his expression.

"Dude you can't even tell it was a joke?" Ace deadpanned.

Phew. Seems like they didn't notice you. Thought your lovely keychain had to be sacrificed. You'll just buy another one at Sam's shop.

Escaping the Heartslabyul dorm with a dissapointed expression due to stepping on your beautiful oshi's keychain, running away from Enemy Territory: Part two is mission success! You left in a rushed fashion, holding back a smirk. You really can't wait for the drama you will soon implement.

You shut down your phone and hid it in your pocket, hoping that they won't notice the keychain left in the middle of the ground and find the owner(AKA YOU.)

For the action you are about to take, will soon to be the talk of the whole school.

After Riddle was done with his outrage, the whole dorm was in shambles. The Vice Housewarden nearly worked you and the other dormmates to death, cleaning up after the aftereffects of a disaster.

Though you don't know what exactly happened on how Riddle became some type of anime final boss with maxed out stats, I think they mentioned it and called it... 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘁? Not your business anyway, you sure had a fun time watching the show!

It was quite adrenaline-pumping to try not to get caught by the group—Even if they did found out it was you?

It makes the thrill even better.

The only suprising thing is that the first-year duo, vice, and the ginger-haired guy managed to not get too heavily injured..... 𝗘𝘅𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗰𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻.

The magicless prefect, who got enrolled with no background or status— the mysterious first-year, that was apparently from another world.

They fainted after their battle, and despite their inability to cast magic, they contributed the most by bonking the shit out of Riddle.

....

That human gotta have bat-shit strength. Would be risky to get on their bad side.

After cleaning and fixing the whole dorm, you were excessively fatigued. Worked down to the bone. Even doing your homework took up some of your stamina. Like overworked corporate slave to your company.

Changing into a simple T-shirt and shorts, you plop to bed, face down to pillow. Arms and legs sore from fixing the broken furniture, destroyed bushes, and also looking for the dorm's beloved pet hamster.

To be honest, you were kinda expecting to see the hamsters squished corpse, with blood splattered in the ground. Knowing how small they were and the amount of students evacuating the premises, a foot as big as 5 inches could instantly kill a small creature.

You let a sigh of fatigue as you continue lying on your stomach in bed, scrolling through Magicam, you decided to open a certain website; 𝙉𝙍𝘾 𝙉𝙂𝙇.

It was a website made for NRC students to rant and vent their frustrations, and also confess hidden feelings, as anonymous users.

In a blink of an eye, your post receives multiple views from almost all of the school.

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

𝘕𝘙𝘊 𝘕𝘎𝘓

𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙪𝙡 𝙜𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙠 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨?! 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙪𝙡 𝙏𝙮𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙣𝙙! [Video Link]

———————————————————

⚫ 𝑨𝒏𝒐𝒏777

𝟏𝑲 𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘𝒔 ?/?/𝟐𝟎

𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔: 𝟑𝟎𝟎

Anon789: 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗶 𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗶 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗳𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗹𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗹. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗲.

Anon669: 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙊𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚! 𝙄𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚:) 𝗢𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳!

Anon456: 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗴𝗴. 𝗜 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗮𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝘆 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻. 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗶𝘁 𝗗𝗜𝗗 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘀𝗳𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗺...

Anon997: 𝗜𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹? 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗔𝗻𝗼𝗻𝟳𝟳𝟳. 𝗜𝗳 𝗶 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗶 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝘀.

Anon211: 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗻 𝗶 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗮 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝟭𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿, 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗥𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝗹𝗺𝗮𝗼 𝗔𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝘂𝘇 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀

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

Look at 'em go.

You snickered behind the screen, still plopped in bed.

The video posted by Anon777, AKA 𝗬𝗢𝗨, is viewed by almost all of the school.

The students, staff, and even the headmage are looking for whoever posted this video, inspecting and demanding it to be taken down even.

You were wondering why the staff didn't ask the website to be taken down. They probably rant there too or whatever.

Every recess, you could hear students whispering bench-to-bench about the overblot incident. Sometimes, even the Vice-housewarden and Diamond-san steps up and defends our Housewarden whenever they hear bad rumours about it.

Even you suppress a smirk whenever someone mentions your alias; Anon777. Knowing that you were becoming of influence and fame, felt good. Though you will definitely be a target of doxxing now.

At first, the video was reported by the kind fellow heartslabyul student. Reporting it to the teachers, it eventually went to the headmage's ears.

You know damn well it is a breach of privacy to post shit like this.

But that what makes it even more fun. The rush of adrenaline knowing that you were sought by others, how can one resist?

You were bored with life, sure. But who cares? Being the adrenaline junkie you are, the thrill, anxiety, and stress does not strain you, instead— 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

Do you have a motive for why you are doing this? Nothing. Just bored with your life.

With your luck (that is definitely not your forgettable presence) you were able to get out of trouble easily.

You were already on your path to become a hot topic in school.

"𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗔𝗻𝗼𝗻777?"

"𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲?"

Looking for this exact user, they continue to bare questions in mind.

Do you have any "I feel" statement?

Yeah, you feel like a mastermind in a school-life melo-drama anime with 100+ episodes and a dream.

Another average school day has passed. Good thing there was no homework for today. You blended in the crowd like the NPC you are, walking in the school street as you let out a yawn. Despite the whispering and gossiping of the students, it was definitely just another 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 day. Even when you joined in the gossip-spree, it only got interrupted by the Vice Housewarden and Cater, to your dissapointment. It was all going to a dramatic conclusion, too. You sighed in dissapointment.

Drowning in your thoughts, you walk and walk, spacing out with no sense of surroundings, until you bumped into two first-years.

"Deuce, relax! Not like Riddle will know if we sneak one of these babie— KAK! " The orange-haired freshman wobbled as you crashed behind him. He fell onto the blue-haired first-year's shoulder, both of them comically falling to the floor.

"Oi! Watch where you guys were going. 𝘜𝘨𝘩, 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴" You cursed under your breath, patting your uniform to check whether there was dirt on you.

"Hey! 𝙔𝙤𝙪 should be the one to apologize!" The first year said, he seems to be the same dorm as you, based on the heart on his face and the ribbon on his sleeve. While the blue-haired first-year below him was struggling for life, he was sitting on the poor dude...

"Hey Ace! Get up for a sec, I'm struggling here!" The blue freshman coughed, desperately trying to get up and breathe.

You scoffed at the scene, then walked away. How irritating. Your day is ruined now. Why can't freshmen respect their upperclassmen? (Like you weren't the one that bumped into them in the first place...)

From behind the scene where you left, two first-years slowly get up, body absolutely aching from the impact they fell.

"Ughh! That second-year thinks they are all that just because they enrolled a year sooner than us!" Ace complained, putting a hand to his shoulder to massage the pain away.

Deuce poked Ace's shoulder, trembling as he pointed at the mushed-up body of what seems to be a deflated...hamster? "H-hey.... Ace...!"

"What now, Deucey—"

......

Shit. Deuce picked up the deflated hamster, hesitantly poking it to check whether it is still alive.

"Bro, why are you 𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 it?!"

"I'm making sure it's still alive!!"

What would Housewarden Riddle react after knowing the dorm-pet got smashed by two big-asses?

Goodluck, Adeuce...

— 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙪𝙡 𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙢; 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 —

Yet another average, long, and tiring day, you plop into your bed again, continuing your doom-scrolling in Magicam.

𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰.... 𝘌𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪.... 𝘐𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘳𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵... 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳...

Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Yeah, just an average page.

!

A notification from your NGL popped up.

It was a private message from someone called "Anon334"

You click on the chat.

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𝘕𝘙𝘊 𝘕𝘎𝘓

Anon334: 𝗵𝗶! 𝗜'𝗺 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗯𝘆𝘂𝗹. 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘂, 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘂 𝗽𝗹𝘇 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗶𝗱? 𝗢𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝘅!

Anon777: 𝗗𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗮𝗱𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗵𝗮𝗵𝗮

Anon334: 𝘂𝗵𝗵𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗶𝗺 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗵 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹;;;

Anon777: 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗼 𝗶 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁?? 𝗔𝗶𝗻𝘁 𝗻𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗹 𝗴𝘁𝗳𝗼

Anon334: 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘂, 𝗮𝘁𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁.

Anon334: 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗹. 𝗜 𝗳𝗲𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁— 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗮, 𝗴𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗽, 𝗼𝗿 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝘁 𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼𝘀!

Anon334: 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗹𝘇 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘂 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀. 𝗣𝗹𝘇? 🙏

Anon777: ���𝗮𝗵 𝗜'𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝗻

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘳.

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Boom blocked. Why is he negotiating with you like he has something to gain from this?

Maybe he was a close friend with Riddle?

Oh well, you will just take a quick nap. Too tired to even function.

Your eyelids slowly surrender to your fatigue, still holding your phone in hand, without knowing it, you fall asleep in a diabolical, yet comfy position.

What could exactly happen after this?

— A certain magicam addict's POV —

It was just his average day. Going to class, assisting Riddle and Trey with dorm-associated business, and doomscrolling through Magicam.

Though, after going through the NRC NGL, he took it back.

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺.

.......

𝘈𝘩.

He can't believe it. His eyes was glued stuck to the screen as the furst thing he saw in his feed was a video of the heartslabyul overblot incident. With 1K views too! Almost all of the school, possibly even outsiders!

A video, of Riddle's Overblot, was 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗱!

Whoever did it gotta be nuts. In a flash, he shared the video to the GC containing Trey and Riddle.

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

MESSENGER

✨Cay-Cay✨: [Video] uh oh guys seems like someone managed to record our fight - ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʳᵉʸ-ᵗᵒʳ

😡Trey-tor😡: what?! Do you know who posted it?? We have to get it deleted before it spreads!

✨Cay-Cay✨: its too late man it got like 1K views almost everyone in the school probably saw it

😡Trey-tor😡: still, what would Riddle react if he saw this?

✨Cay-Cay✨: who knows lets wait for him to get online first

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

Though Riddle was annoying to deal with sometimes, he still respected him. And that feeling strengthened, from today's events.

All Cater can do right now, is just pray that the anonymous user will take down the post.

Well, in some sort of way, Cater felt kinda indebted to Riddle in a way. Especially after seeing him.... crash out.

So, why not do a favor for his cute housewarden? Not like Anon777 will know who is behind Anon334. Cater sends a message to the mysterious Anonymous User, in an attempt to bring down the video. He doesn't really think that the Anon777 will bring down the video simply cause someone requested but, think positive I guess. We'll never know until he tries, atleast?

— POV END —

You woke up, with your notifications filled, not from the video, but from something else.

So basically, you probably clicked on random things while you were sleeping.

And that ended up posting your precious horny-postings fanart of your oshi.

Great! Now you will face more punishment for posting inappropriate imagery in a NGL for college students. Though certain people will probably enjoy it....

Your eyes were glued to the screen, your expression being something that would give a forensic pathologist nightmares.

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

𝘕𝘙𝘊 𝘕𝘎𝘓

𝑨𝒏𝒐𝒏𝟕𝟕𝟕: [insert mouth-watering, oxytocin-inducing, temperature-rising fanart of your oshi idek]

Anon763: 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼? 𝗛𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝘆? 𝗜'𝗺 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲? 𝘁𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘂𝗽 𝘃𝗿𝗼💔

Anon235: 𝗟𝗠𝗔𝗢 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦?? 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗢 𝗥 𝗨 𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗫𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗩𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗢??

Anon556: 𝗜 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹!! 𝗜 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲!!

Anon889: 𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗮 𝗯𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻🤤🤤🤤

Anon765: 𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁 𝗻𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 [𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿] 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗥𝗖 𝗡𝗚𝗟 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗟𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗺 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴'𝘀 𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗷𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝟳𝟬 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲 😭😭🙏🙏

Anon004: 𝗜 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲-𝗵𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱:((

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

What seems to be a few hours later, you seem to be getting even more likes. A part of you is debating whether to be happy that people like your art, or that your simping-spree should be something to be ashamed of.

— After school —

Today was the compensation Unbirthday party. It was an apology from your housewarden on how he behaved last time.

The dorm seems to forgive him, despite attempting mass murder...

It was a pleasant day. Boring for you, though. "Atleast they enjoyed it!" would be one of your thoughts, but you aren't feeling sweet. You are absolutely craving stimulation!

You use magicam in the middle of the party, not caring for whatever the party is doing right now.

"Hey, it is pretty disrespectful if you did that during parties... Especially Unbirthday parties!" Cater smiled.

In surprise, you exit magicam and went to your home screen to cover whatever you were doing. You didn't notice he was there! In an attempt to regain your composure, you gave a smile back.

"Oh hey, Cater! Fancy meeting you here.." You give a friendly but bland response.

?

He eyed your screen suspiciously, staring exactly at your website browser.

"Hey, could I borrow your phone for a bit?" Cater asked. Before you could 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 decline, he already impulsively snatched your phone, checking your website browser for your NGL account.

......

Cater checks your account, it was a simple, unregistered user.

"Diamond-senpai." You glared at him as he continues eyeing your NGL. He snaps back to reality as he makes eye contact with you. Realizing what he had done, he immediately gave back your phone.

"Ah! Whoopsies! Got a bit too carried away now, was I?" Cater scratched his neck awkwardly. He was behaving oddly, 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗼𝗱𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗰𝘁. Probably his late-night doomscrolling messing him up... Maybe? Or was it simply 'instinct'?

"Well, Got-to-go! See you!" Cater left awkwardly, leaving you confused and pissed.

𝘞𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥... The exact thought you two had.

You put your hand in your chest, heart pumping like crazy. It was a good thing you owned two phones, with different accounts and internet connection. Otherwise, you would have been doxxed and people would find out your identity at this point.

A week before the anticipated 𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻! You were excited to get your skills to use, as you were looking for new entertainment to stimulate your bored thrill-seeking ass.

Walking to your dorm as you finish the day, you hear a voice that signals you to turn around.

It was your Dorm-leader, Riddle Rosehearts. After all this time, he seemed to have lightened up a bit. Seems like he learned his lesson.

Though you two weren't exactly close, he sometimes gives you small tasks like "Could you carry these to ____?" And others.

"[Name], could you give these papers to Trey?" Riddle said, not breaking eye contact. After his Overblot and the compensation unbirthday party, you swear you could slightly feel an atmosphere of guilt and awkwardness lingering in the air. But atleast he got some character development.

Currently, he was asking you to deliver the papers to Trey. So you simply nodded obediently and went down the stairs.

......You were definitely not cursing your beloved dormleader under your breath as you go down the stairs each step.

But suddenly, you found yourself—

*𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗛!*

.

.

.

.

.

.

....down the stairs, neck craned to shoulder. In a not-so-human position.

Did the universe heard your thoughts on how you would reverse the status between you and your housewarden, imagining the scene of making him beg under your feet as you make a mess of him into nothing but a dog slaved to you?? Yeah, that's overload.

The pile of papers that you were once holding were flying all over, and you were laying in the floor, an inch close to death.

You debate whether to move and risk snapping your spinal cord, or just lay still and pretend to be dead.

Oh well, you shut your eyes close, savoring the chaos that unfolded as you continue laying like a ragdoll, looking like someone had forcefully dislocated your neck and attempted murder.

Ignoring the calls of your House-warden as he runs towards you, calling for help, you force yourself to faint, not wanting to deal with your embarrassing position.

Maybe next time, learn to respect your Dormleader?

It was night. And you woke up in a familiar room.

That's right, it was the Heartslabyul Dormroom. Though you don't recognize this room. You are guessing it is a spare room.

You seem to be in a tatami bed. It was quite comfy despite the fact you were in the floor.

Sighing as you slowly get up, you notice that your neck injury was lifted, thankfully. But the real problem was—

Your feet. It was twisted like lotus feet of imperial china.

Yeah, this would serve as a great excuse to skip class.

Though you doubt you can enter the Spell-drive tournament now.

Ughhh. You let out a groan out of mental defeat. Wishing you could reverse time and beat the hell of whoever did this to you.

"You okay, [Name]?" A voice from the bed beside you asked.

You turned around, thinking that god was about to fly you back to heaven and judge you for every little sins you did in your lifetime, you comically put your hands up in the air, signaling you don't mean any harm. Until your eyes come in contact with a familiar green-head.

"You scared me, Trey." You sigh in relief, suppressing the shock written all over your face.

Trey let out a chuckle, then reassured you.

"Seems like I startled you. I apologize for that."

Eyeing his twisted ankle, you let one of your thoughts slip through your mouth;

"Seems like we are twinning, huh?" You thought out loud.

"Well, I was supposed to participate in the upcoming spelldrive, but it seems like i won't be playing this year." Trey said, slight dissapointment in his face.

"That being said, how in the world got you injured like that?" You asked, eyes still glued onto his injury.

"That is what i should ask of you too...You were brought here by Riddle, with your neck disfigured." He deadpanned, staring at your injury back.

"So basically, Riddle was about to fall down the stairs, so I caught him but now my ankle's all messed up." Trey said.

"How terrible..." The sentence that came out of your mouth, knowing that you don't feel an ounce of pity to your 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 housewarden.

.....In fact, you 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 suppressing a smile from the fact that Riddle was supposed to be the one to get injured.

But even if he was about to fall down the stairs, he would probably use flight magic as a reflex...

"Riddle said you had the same situation as me. Though your injuries was worse.." Trey pitied.

You comically looked away from him, feeling odd from the pitiful look he gave you.

"Nah, this is fine!" You turned around to face him and gave Trey a reassuring smile, despite the rage inside you wanting to hurl up in a washing machine and inhale the bubbles to calm your anger of being unable to participate in the tournament.

Seems like Diasomnia and Savanaclaw will remain the highest this year.

A day later, you were still resting on the tatami bed, feet aching from the pain of healing magic tingling your senses.

Your roommate, currently, was simply reading a book. Wasn't he atleast bored of that?? As for you and your doomed attention-span, the only thing close to stimulation was the healing magic that the school nurse was applying on you, stretching your feet to it's normal position.

A portion of your feet where the three small toes lie, was arched to the back. Even yourself wonder how in the world was possible for this to happen.

You let out small and quiet groans of pain as the nurse slowly pull your toes back. It was a long, small, but painful process. The nurse had to do it everyday, stretching it little by little.

This was worse than the time where you entered a contract with Octavinelle's Housewarden for your Oshi's merch.

..... In exchange for your physical labor at Monstro-lounge.

Your roommate, Trey, that was currently reading a book to ignore your cries, gave you a pitiful look as you tear up from the burning sensation.

God, When will this nightmare end exactly?

A week later, it was the all-anticipated Spelldrive competition!

During your stay-cation with your roommate, the Vice housewarden, you were hearing rumours from the NGL such as;

"These accidents weren't merely a coincidence. It was staged by someone!"

"It was because of an instigator!"

To be honest, you noticed that alot of students beside you also got injured. If it were the cause of someone, you 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 be incredibly pissed.

The fact that Trey and you, who were both players of Spelldrive— were injured, doesn't seem like a coincidence at all. Like you both were targets from the beginning.

You admit, It really 𝘪𝘴 Suspicious. You get where the rumours come from.

If you think about it, it got to be someone from one of the dorms.

..... You don't have time to think about this. Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you think towards something else.

Thankfully, your injuries was good as new. Your toes, that was once curled to the back like lotus feet— were now back to normal with the use of modern healing magic!

And you got 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 closer with the Vice! (Who barely remembers your name after you both got discharged)

You ignore your negative thoughts and let out beaming energy as you happily take steps to the ground, finally savoring the touch of earth after what seems to be a long time of a nightmare.

You walk towards the place where the SpellDrive Tournament will take place, a crowd of people from different nations all together to watch, and multiple foodstalls with an irresistible amount of snacks waiting to be bought. An exciting sight to see before your eyes.

Oh well, even though you can't participate in the game, atleast you can enjoy the show!

Carrying a mountain of food you bought from the stands, you hear the PA system.

"Welcome everyone! To the Night Raven College interdorm SpellDrive tournament! Thank you very much for waiting. The players shall enter the stadium soon."

As soon as the system finishes their sentence, a wave of anticipation shakes up the whole ground.

"The first dorm to enter was last year's champion. Though will they be able to keep the title? Cheer for the Raging Winners, DIASOMNIA!"

Another cry of excitement bursted from the crowd from seeing the participants this year.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a stillhoutte of a beastmen.

"What a nice crowd! Should be large enough sheheheheh!" The hyena said. Judging from the fact that they were a beastman, you could tell they were from Savannaclaw.

What is a dude from Savanaclaw doing here? You thought. Something's telling you that he has to do with something sneaky.

From afar, you watch the hyena with eyes wide open.

"Now, to drink Azul's potion..... Urk!" He let out a disgusted yelp as he drank the potion.

You nearly pissed yourself as the hyena mentioned Azul's name. Reminiscing the hell you've experienced with that man, you let out a shiver. What could be the potion he's drinking though? You wonder.

"Bleh! The taste is just awful! It is like someone put their unwashed sock in an expired smoothie. Ugh, time to use my Unique Magic."

Preparing for the action he will do, he pulls out his magic pen.

"Time to create a running-man stampede. Let's go! 𝗟𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲—!"

Then, he ran.

.... And so did the people surrounding you.

The crowd from the stalls grouped together, following the beastman's actions.

"Agh!? My body!"

"Stop squishing me! Help!!"

As the swarm of people starts reaching your destination, you quickly hid inside the stalls in reflex.

....All while carrying the pile of food you bought.

Feeling the vibrations and stomping of multiple people at once, it was like an earthquake was going on.

What the hell is he exactly doing?? You thought as you continue hiding underneath the tablecloth inside the stall. Placing the food beside you, covering your ears as a loud wave of cries was the only thing you heard.

You, out of curiosity, decided to check onto the crowd. Peeking out of the small curtain in the bottom. You could barely see the hyena-guy now.

What benefit does he receive, to initiate all this chaos? You thought, deep in wonder.

Maybe he is doing it for his housewarden? Leona Kingscholar? Savanaclaw had always been 2nd place in terms of SpellDrive, it wouldn't surprise you if 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 was the cause.

Though, Leona? To stoop that low and cause chaos? What happened to his pride?

Oh well, you get out of the stall and climbed on a tree, hiding somewhere where you can see anyone, but nobody can see you.

"The stampede is rushing towards the Diasomnia players! I urge the remaining spectators to run away!!" The PA system cried out. Only for helpless shouts and screaming to be heard and the rumbling of ground as the crowd starts rushing towards the Diasomnia group.

You see two Diasomnia Players, one with beautiful silver hair like a knight, and one with striking facial features, exuding tough and strong aura. They shield the tall horned figure, who you recognize.

It was Malleus Draconia, the mage with superior magic compared to all of the school. He was stunning for sure, but incredibly hard to approach. He was otherworldly, like a precious ancient artifact. To think he was a housewarden in the school, makes you think he deserves far more, in terms of his status.

You've heard he was also a prince! Even though you've seen alot of terrifying nepo-babies in this school, this exact man, surprised you out of all people.

The two men guards Malleus, but they ended up being crushed. Can they just use a flight spell to escape from the swarm? You thought.

To your suprise, the Diasomnia players got squashed by the swarm of people. For Diasomnia, the dorm filled with magic-prodigies, to be simply crushed by a group of mere mortals?

Hah.

You don't believe the sight before your eyes. Must be someone's Unique Magic or whatever.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted the hyena beast-man. He was running out of the crowd in a hurried fashion.

You decided to trail him, making your footsteps lighter each step.

"Leona-san! I did it! Did you see the broadcast?" Ruggie rushed over to Savanaclaw's Housewarden; 𝗟𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗮 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗿, who was standing at the corner outside the stadium, along with his Savanaclaw group.

Leona Kingscholar, dormleader of the lion king that eliminates his enemies with cunning and precision. He ruled his land greatly with his hyena subordinates.

Though, the dorm that was supposedly representing the great lion king, had a quite lazy mess of a housewarden...

Hearing rumours on how he almost 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 attends class and is often seen in the botanical garden sleeping, you find it pretty 𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤.

One time, you saw him there. At the botanical garden. That was a memory you didn't want to relive...

But you did anyway, much to your dismay:)

— FLASHBACK —

You were trying to look for a blue strawberry. It was your project for Potionology. Knowing how scary your teacher was, you 𝗵𝗮𝗱 to finish this 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝗸!

Then, you see the rumoured Savanaclaw Housewarden, arms crossed to the back, lying down peacefully.

Knowing the rumours of him roughing up anyone who dares disturb his slumber, you make your footsteps lighter.

But your own phone had backstabbed you.

”𝑶𝒋𝒐𝒖-𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒂, 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒅.”

.

.

.

.

.

If it was possible to lock yourself in a dark room and hide for an eternity, you would do it exactly at this moment.

Your alarm— that reminded you to go to bed whenever you were binge-watching a melodramatic K-drama, trashtalking your newbie teammates in MOBA VC, or creating delusional fanfics of your oshi— was blasted at 100% volume, jerking the once sleeping lion, 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦.

You two make eye contact for what seems to be long enough for your whole uneventful, pathetic shit-of-a-life flashing before your eyes, you ran away without a word, not minding the blue strawberry you were holding to fall off your hands.

In the end, you got an one-hour long lecture from your potionology teacher, nagging you due to the fact you were missing a week-long pileof homework 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 in his subject.

— FLASHBACK END —

Your body jerked as you found yourself back to reality yet again.

In an attempt on focusing on the scene before your eyes, you pinch your knees hard.

"Yeah. Good work, Ruggie. So long, Malleus. This year, the champion will be us." Leona smirked.

"Long live the king! Sha hahaha!" Ruggie exclaimed in victory, followed along by their other dormmates.

"𝙄 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝." A sharp voice interrupted their cheery celebration, footsteps slowly going forward towards the group.

?!

It was your Housewarden, 𝙍𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙝! What was he doing here, with his dorm-group? And the magicless prefect with a 1st-year from Savanaclaw to be exact!

Shock was written in the whole Savanaclaw group, only the hyena and the lion switching composures to not show weakness.

"Well, well, The Heartslabyul group. With our lovely 1st-year, Jack? Did ya really transfer to Heartslabyul, Freshmen?" Leona let out a growl. He slowly approached the wolf, eyeing him like a predator that stood in his territory.

"Nah, I just didn't want to celebrate the victory seized with underhanded methods of a bunch of cowards." Jack said sharply, not breaking eye contact.

𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. 𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘚𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥.

"You filthy traitor!" Leona scowled, pointing his staff towards Jack's forehead.

Damn. You were really feasting your eyes on this drama. Good thing you brought your phone with you, it was recording the conversation from start! But your phone will probably lose a good amount of storage later.

You watch the scene before you, munching on chips as you angle your phone in the other hand.

As they converse with eachother, each line filled with tension, you focus on them, making sure the video is of good quality. You wouldn't want a single second to be of low quality, no?

They initiate a fight, but in a second, the Savanaclaw group besides Ruggie and Leona, got collared up by none other than the Heartslabyul housewarden, Riddle.

Yeah. This was good sign not to rebel against Housewardens. You mentally deadpanned, reminiscing the multiple times you got collared as you touch your neck like the feeling was deeply embedded within your muscle memory.

"Damn, housewarden are no joke..." One of the collared students groaned in pain.

"Tsk, knew those kiddos wouldn't stand a chance against Riddle." Leona pinched his nosebridge in dissapointment.

"Shyheheheh! Doesn't change the fact that they were too late to save Diasomnia." Ruggie sneered.

Only to be interrupted with another plot twist AGAIN.

"Oh my? That's quite the interesting claim." A short fae-like student appeared out of nowhere infront of the hyena, upside down as the fae looked at the shocked beast-man with a sly grin.

"Seems like they went right on time to me." The tall green-haired guy with striking features said, putting his hands on his waist while furrowing his eyebrows.

"Indeed. It was thanks to them that nobody in Diasomnia didn't get hurt." The silver-haired guy accompanied the green-haired boy as they walk towards the group.

You recognize those two! Not the eccentric fae that was floating upside down though...

You knew that it got to be a sick joke when you saw them completely crashed in the crowd like scrambled eggs. Diasomnia was a dorm full of magic-prodigies, after all.

"What?! How?! I saw you get crushed up by the swarm!" Ruggie flinched and took a step back in shock.

𝘼𝙖𝙖𝙖𝙖𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙮𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙩-𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩.

Will there be a plot-twist that they knew you were trailing them or what? You deadpanned.

Nobody— none other than a certain gingerhead, Cater Diamond had appeared.

"Oh! About that... It turns out these were actually my clones of me, made with my Unique Magic; Split Card. I admit, I really slayed those Diasomnia Dorm Outfits. They're so stylish!" Cater explained, revealing the trick in his sleeve.

"Riddle told us everything. So we had him put a little charade for us." Lilia said.

"Waka-sama has been clearing up the chaos, using his magic to guide the people safely back to the stadium." Sebek stated.

Silence filled the space between the two groups. It was dreadful, sharp, and painful to see before the eyes. Until a certain housewarden broke the tension.

Actually... More like he 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 the tension.

"Tch. Whatever. At this point, I don't even care anymore. I'm done. It's over." Leona surrended, switching back to his apathetic facade.

The hyena's eyes widen, a wave of shock splashing throughout the two groups.

"Boss, what are you saying?!"

"Were you even listening? If Malleus is able to participate, then we've got absolutely no chance of winning 1st place."

"𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗜'𝗺 𝗼𝘂𝘁."

Leona said sharply, without batting an eye, he walked away in defeat.

In the midst of the moment, Ruggie grabbed his wrist, a desperate attempt to stop his tracks.

"Malleus might still be in the game, but we took out all the other dorms' best players right? Without you in the field, I don't even know if we'd have a shot at the top three! You're just gonna abandon our dreams like that?"

"For all the talk about "the world watching" this is just some schoolkids playin' a game. All you doe-eyed tenderfoots yappin' about your dreams... Pfft. The whole thing amused me, so I threw a bone. That's all this was.

"What do you mean? What happened to all the talk about "turning the world upside down"?

"Are you 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 still going on about that?" Leona grabbed Ruggie by the collar of his shirt.

"All right, fine. You wanna hear the truth? You're a hyena who grew up in shitty dump, and I'm a secondborn prince who will 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 be king."

"𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙!"

The lion let go of Ruggie's collar, a sour expression written in his face.

"I'm out." He said sharply.

Ruggie stood there, gripping his fists until it became pure-white.

"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯... 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘐..." He mumbled, looking at the ground. Rage coming to boiling point, he popped his head up, brows furrowed, lips pursing in an attempt to quell his anger. But it was no use.

"𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙍𝙐𝙉 𝘼𝙒𝘼𝙔! 𝙁𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙇 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔 𝙀𝙉𝘿!" Ruggie unexpectedly shouted, running after Leona as he walked away.

"You can't do this to us, Boss!"

"You're gonna play, even if we gotta drag you out there kicking and screaming!"

The surrounding Savanaclaw students join in, switching sides on their housewarden. They are absolutely against Leona's decision.

"How irritating. I'm so sick of this shit. Shut 𝙐𝙋 you nobodies!" Leona let out a growl, shoving the group of students away using his Unique Magic; 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴'𝘀 𝗥𝗼𝗮𝗿. It is a signature spell, that turns everything the lions touches, into nothing but sand. He makes a windy barrier of sand to send the group flying back.

No way...

"Gwah!!" Sand was swirling around everywhere, like everyone including you were inside a sandstorm. It was an uncomfortable feeling, the sand drying out your eyes and nose, the itchiness of sand going through your skin, and the wind making it harder to spy on them.

"Ack! M-my nose is drying out!"

"Everything Leona-senpai touched is turning to sand?!"

"That'd would be my Unique magic; 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙜'𝙨 𝙍𝙤𝙖𝙧. Ironic, isn't it? Nothin' the savanna despises more than a drought. Yet it's prince dessicates everything— reduces it to nothing but sand."

?!

As the surrounding Savanaclaw students gets wrapped in a storm of sand, all of a sudden, a certain someone jumped forward and tackled Leona.

"Boss! Snap out of it!" Ruggie desperately clung to the housewarden, in an attempt to shake him out of his outrage.

But unfortunately, it just made him a victim.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥, 𝙝𝙪𝙝?"

He grabbed Ruggie by the neck while using his signature spell, causing the poor hyena to dry out as his skin visibly cracks.

"L-Leona-san.. It hurts!" Ruggie was desperately trying to get away from his housewarden's grasp.

"Kingscholar! I do not tolerate this behavior! 𝙊𝙛𝙛 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙!"

....

Riddle's collar flew off..

"Huh?! Riddle's signature spell flung out!" Grim surprised.

"Maybe you're some type of magic prodigy, kid. But don't underestimate your seniors."

Leona lets out a laugh as he keeps his grip on the hyena's neck. Not the 'happy' type of laugh— but simply pure anger and manic.

"Hah! How you like that Ruggie? Is your mouth too dry to keep licking my boots? That was your best talent, too."

"If this keeps going on, Ruggie is gonna-!"

Before Jack could even finish that sentence, the Ramshackle prefect was already seen running towards Leona in an attempt to stop his act of violence.

"YUU!!"

"You got some guts for a herbivore, huh?"

"𝙐𝙣𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩!" Jack transformed into a gray wolf, running towards Yuu as the swirl of sand was about to hit them, he grabbed the prefect before it could hit them. While Leona was distracted, Riddle immediately used his signature spell on him.

"𝙊𝙁𝙁 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿!"

"Gah!" Leona yelped as he got collared, dropping Ruggie in the process. "No! You can't collar a lion! And Jack! Transformation potions is forbidden! Where did you get that?"

"That isn't a potion, it is my signature spell, 𝙐𝙣𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩. I can transform myself into a wolf. Dormleader Leona, I want you to know... I only came to this school because of how I admired you!"

"Shut up... Stop pinnin' your dreams on me! What do you know about how I feel?!"

"Would that the Lion king of the savanna would witness this farce. No, if you ask me, a collar suits you far better than a crown. You may lament the fact you're not higher in line to be king..." Lilia stepped in. "But with that sensitive ego of yours? That quickly lashes out petty anger on your retainers... Well, the idea of you ever standing face-to-face with a REAL king like our Malleus— is absolutely laughable. Even if you COULD defeat Malleus, so long as that's how you conduct yourself?" 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜!

Dreadful silence was followed as soon as the fae finished his statement. Until he laughed. "Hah.... Haha. You are probably right. No, you are EXACTLY right! Ha ha ha ha!" A dark aura was slowly releasing in the air, blot was gathering up behind the lion. "𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙣𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙮."

"Myah!! My fur's standing on ends!" In a snap, Riddle's collar was flung away, again.

"I've been loathed since the day I was born. I never had a place, never had a future! None of my hard work is ever rewarded! How could any of you understand?! My lament! My pain!!" The housewarden let out a roar as the blot slowly consumes him. No way...

There stood Leona Kingscholar, in extreme final boss with maxed out stats. AKA; 𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙩. He was in a completely different outfit resembling drought of a savanna, his right eye glowing wild-orange, a scar on his face, and a huge blot figure behind him, that was consuming his life force. You were only focusing on his snatched waist, though. Your surroundings was going through anti-gravity, again. But you remained unaffected cause you were hiding in the corner. If you were asked what was your special trait, it would definitely be your invincible plot armour. The others get evacuated by the fae as chaos unveils again, the group knocking sense onto Leona as he continues his violence. You, on the other hand, were simply watching. Don't ask about the chips you were holding earlier, the sand got to it..

"I dunno what's going on, but if we hit Leona hard enough, maybe we can snap him outta it?" Jack, despite the situation, was a bit... too calm? Or is he simply confused?

"Yuu, if we beat Leona to a pulp, maybe they'll let us play in the Spelldrive!" Grim said in fighting stance, ready for battlefield.

"Let's do this!"

They dodge the incoming attacks, sand piling up the whole ground as the storm shows no mercy towards the group. Jack, Cater, Silver and Sebek, are the frontliners. Ace, Deuce, Ruggie, Yuu are in the back, and Riddle serves as the finishing blow.

How about you? What is your purpose? Recording all this while eating the fried tempura chips you found on the ground? While waving a flag that says “MAKE PEACE NOT WAR” with uncanny emojis that looks like it had been made by a drunk middle-aged business man that thought children would love it? Yeah, that was exactly what you were doing right now.

Hurry up and finish the battle already.. Your storage is about to die..

After what felt like an eternity, Ruggie n Cater served as distraction to break Leona's focus, then Riddle collared him. Yuu did the final blow by handchopping the lion's head. Talk about too much. They both lost consciousness, just like the last time. At this point, you aren't even suprised if Yuu was connected to them by fate.

Leona let out a groan as he slowly awakes from his slumber.

"I did it! He is awake! Now hurry up and confess." Grim said, putting his paws on his waist like a demanding familiar he is.

"Kingscholar. You're negative energies accelerated your blot accumulation, inducing an overblot episode. Do you not remember?"

"Wait, ME? I overblotted? No way.."

"I need you to confess that you're the culprit so I can enter!" Grim nagged.

"Heh. If this is a joke, I ain't laughin'."

"The headmage got Yuu's group to investigate the accidents in exchange for letting them compete in the tournament." Jack said.

"WHAAAT? Thats all this was?" Surprise written in Ruggie's face.

"You bet it was! And EXCUSE you!? You were the one pushin' people down the stairs for the chance at a little fame and glory!" Wait. 𝙍𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙚 was the one that caused you to fall down the stairs?! It seems you got hit by the shockwave, too."

"Very well. Then to begin with, Savanaclaw will be disqualified from this year's tournament. The rest of your punishment will be decided after I discuss it with the victims. Are we clear?"

"Understood." Leona accepted his defeat.

"Wait." Riddle and a few 2nd-years interrupted.

"Mr. Rosehearts? And I see you are with... Ah." Crowley approached the group, along with some students that was supposed to participate. How come you weren't invited? You negatively deadpanned.

"Correct. They are the victims in this incident."

"Headmage, I got a request for you. We would like you to permit Savanaclaw to play in the tournament despite their crimes."

"What?... You wish to forgive their actions?" Crowley questioned the group's motives.

"No. That's the last thing we want." The vice housewarden of scarabia student said sharply.

"If Savanaclaw is disqualified, then we'll lose our chance at revenge.

"WHAAAT?!" Said Jack and Ruggie, in unison.

"I understand where you're coming from, However, the question is: Are these Savanaclaw students even capable of taking to the field?" The headmage contemplated, cupping his chin deep in thought.

Leona lets out a laugh as he slowly gets up from his position. A positive one, this time. "Heh heh... Hahaha! Don't you underestimate me, Headmage. I don't need to be awake to handle these feeble pack of herbivores."

"And 𝙮𝙤𝙪, the one hiding in the corner eating tempura chips.... Stop hiding like a weasel and show yourself."

Ah.

Alas, you got caught.

[jthealien]

Foreshadowing I’ve Found for THAT Reveal

Spoilers for the Season 1 finale under the cut!!!

HI GUYS HOW ARE WE FEELING WOW

I’ve spent the weeks in between the fast pass release and now rereading and looking for every bit of foreshadowing I could find for B- I mean Nox… being a key. (Or at least key adjacent)

Side Note: I’m playing fast and loose with the definition of foreshadowing here. Some are pretty small details or silly observations, but my list my rules :P

So here it is compiled in a massive (vaguely chronological) list with numbered photos!

Also if there’s anything I missed (I’m sure there is) please add it!!

———

1) The literal first scene of the comic is a crescent moon (in a purple background), which we now know is Nox/the villain key’s symbol

2) (Ep. 13) Nox knows “plenty about the keys.” uh yeah I bet you would

3) (Ep. 13) Chase asks if Nox is part of Ex Libris and wants to make the keys more miserable, which seems to make him really upset. It’s understandable, I’d be pretty upset if I was implied to be working with my tormentors to make my own life even worse.

4) (Ep. 13) From the start Nox assumes Chase wants the keys for something selfish. Considering Ex Libris treats the keys like objects, and some of the keys (like Bronze) are pretty weary around people, that’s not an unreasonable assumption. Nox is so accustomed to being used by higher ups for selfish wishes

—This puts his outburst in Ep. 31 in a whole new light, specifically the line about Chase wanting to befriend the keys. He’s so convinced that couldn’t be true because it’s never been true for him.

5) Each of the keys has a specific junk food/snack they like. Silver has cheese, Bronze has peanut butter, Goldie has gummies, and it seems Nox has chocolate :]

6) (Ep. 20) “Every last thing” about the keys is his business in his words

—Guess that includes himself

7) Metals can rust, and Nox isn’t a fan of water (besides baths, but I assume that’s because he can control when he goes in and for how long)

8) When you stick a key in a book, they automatically know the story (as said by Bronze in Ep. 21). This explains why Nox seems to know a book’s plot no matter what

9) (Ep. 28) He says that the keys can take advantage of “certain loopholes.” In that moment, this is a reference to what characters a key can use for their role. But it could also be a nod to how keys can technically use other keys to enter stories. He’d know that since it’s what he’s been doing this whole time.

10) In the infamous “They feed you, right?” scene (Ep. 29), we’ve always kind of assumed that — yeah — Ex Libris just doesn’t feed him often. But in this scene, Chase ALSO says “keep you locked up.” I have a feeling that’s actually what Buddy got upset about. Ex Libris probably did keep him locked up as a key, which has to be really traumatic considering his severe claustrophobia.

11) (Ep. 31) Nox assumes Chase’s wish is just as “self-serving” as his is, which we now know is to be human again.

—(Nox actually projects a lot of his own feelings onto Chase, I’ll talk about that some other time though.)

—Referring back to number 5, during this whole confrontation, Nox is convinced that Chase only wants Narratonin for a wish. As a key, of course he’d think that, because that’s all that the humans usually around him want.

12) ”Nobody should have to accept being the villain if they’re trying their best not to be.” (Ep. 30) and “I get it, you’re the villain around here…” (Ep. 32)

—He literally IS the villain

—(Also I didn’t have room to include it, but Nox gets a really sad look on his face after Chase says that last line. yikes..)

13) (Ep. 32) In response to Chase talking about trusting humans, Nox says “them.” He could’ve said something like ‘people’ or ‘anyone,’ but his wording here implies that he sees human beings as separate from himself.

14) The crescent moon necklace on his outfit in Sick Days, as well as the half-ones on his jacket. If you really think about it you could also count the gemstones near his eyes as representing his gem eyes.

—It’s maybe a little strange that this outfit is the one he decided to make so similar to his key form. But it makes sense considering the previous arc was Beach Boys, where Nox became more trusting of Chase

15) (Ep. 35) He’s never been sick because keys can’t get sick.

16) (Ep. 36) He says “real people” and “person,“ showing again how he might not think of himself as either of those. (See number 13)

17) (Ep. 39) There’s a lock on Nox’s coffin

18) (Ep. 39) I originally thought it was the lighting but nope, his ear is literally gray! Also his hair here is less spiky at the ends, like how it is in his key form

19) (Ep. 39) He looks surprised by his reflection, because he’s only used to seeing his human form while in the books.

—In fact, since you can’t see yourself in the book mirrors, when’s the last time he saw himself as a human?

20) (Ep. 39) The broken key-ring looking thing around his neck

21) (Ep. 49) “Good, that means I’m taller than someone for once.” if only you knew, Chase..

22) The entirety of Ep. 50 confirming that keys can go into books

23) (Ep. 53) He gets really pissy over the idea of his teeth being “baby”. Might be carry over from his grudge against being like 5 inches tall in reality

24) (Ep. 53) His claustrophobia could stem from being stuck in his key form and being put in a box for weeks or months at a time.

—He keeps repeating that he just needs to “wait it out” and “it’s fine” because that’s all he could do and think as a key

25) (Ep. 54) “That moon is too close” following the scene where Buddy decides to lower his guard and work on his harmful behaviors. We now know the symbol of the villain key is the moon, so it could be Nox trying to distance himself from his role as the villain.

26) (Ep. 55) The crescent moon on Bad Cat’s lapel

27) (Ep. 56) “Some people are very good at disguising their true nature” in reference to Nox. It’s quite literal, in this case.

28) All the characters’ eyes are drawn in a very specific way, no matter their color (black shading taking up half the iris, the white shine). Every character except Nox, that is.

—Well, every character except Nox and the key’s human forms. I always thought it was meant to make him seem more intimidating (which it Does), but it really might be a byproduct of being a key. The queen in Friends and Family (Ep. 56) almost has Nox’s exact eye color, and her eyes are still colored in the usual way. So it’s definitely more than a stylistic choice.

—Makes me wonder what Nox looked like pre-key form. ..Did he still have his bright blue high beams..

29) Dreams by Day is about a key having a dream/flashback, and Dreams by Night is.. also about a key having a dream/flashback

———

And that’s all I have for now!! I’m absolutely going to find something else the millisecond I post this but like u said please add anything you notice.

[starpunkd]

Ok, I really want to talk about this panel here:

And why I think it's a HUUUUUUUUGE confirmation of canon romantic SebaCiel. More than what we've had so far. Like, really, so far in the plot we've had only tropes with those two. Romantic tropes, of course, which people with eyes have been able to pick and use them to build their optics. Combined with pretty suggestive and sometimes outright dirty sexually charged cover artworks (like, the oyster fiest art and the defloration art omg, I still can't believe we have these), I'd say the optics are pretty convincing. But this is all subtext. Yes, it's heavy, it's been spilling all over the pages, more so in the Green Witch Arc (especially with the tentacle fuck, which btw was the game-changer for them, if anyone still hasn't noticed). But this has always been that. Subtext. And sadly, some people at this time think that subtext is something not worth cosidering, when trying to make sense of the meaning in a story.

Funfact: subtext is almost always more important than text, and the refusal to count it as one of the flavors is like having half the dish if not less... But that's not the point at the moment.

My point is that this panel is the exact place where the author is speaking to the audience and conveys her view of the story. And she calls Tempest a "romance play". Which, funny thing, it is not. Sorry, I mean, sure, it is, but this very couple -- Prospero and Ariel -- aren't generally considered romantic. But they are the only ones that Yana mentions in this panel. Consider someone who hasn't read Tempest, and don't know about Miranda or Ferdinand (those characters are romantically involved)? What is the juxtaposition here? Yana says "romance play" and then introduces us Prospero and Ariel, and then Sebastian draws DIRECT parallell of this couple to Ciel. And Ciel gets the reference. This is, again, also the reminder to us, the readers, that subtext is important. And Yana herself connects those dots for us here. She WANTS the readers to count the subtext in, and she DOES see Sebastian and Ciel's relationship as romantic. At this point, there's no other way around it.

Now, if the upper panel is just the author's remark, it's one level of transparency. But... This can also be (arguably but the implication is there) Sebastian's OWN recap of the play, showcasing the fact that it is he who sees his relationship with Ciel as romantic. Hence, the flustered guilty feels after his encounter with Modri. And frankly, I think this is also a valid interpretation of their situation. Like, Ciel's reaction is that of a jealous husband, and Seb's -- of a cheating frivolous damsel, who's been given a new life next to her husband, and... well... basically "Pretty Woman" here.

Ok. Anyway, antis are fucked and toasted. Good day to you, my sweet fellow shippers.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (15/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, the angst, semi-public intimacy, panic attack, anxiety, mafia stuff, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She left.

Although he promised himself it would never happen, she was gone.

He spent the first half hour after he woke up in a state of complete hysteria, sitting on the sofa with his face hidden in his hands, crying, crying and crying, unable to calm down.

He was sure she would forgive him this time too.

That she would understand.

However, some part of him knew that the life he was forcing her into must have been unbearable: he himself would not have been able to wait for her every night, not knowing if she was safe, if she would return, if she was alive.

He would have gone mad in her place.

So all that was left to him was weeping and despair, in which he sank completely. Then came a wave of denial: the thought that she would never have done this to him, that perhaps she had only gone out to the shop and would return soon, that he was worried for no reason.

After a few hours, he began to panic.

What if she had done something to herself?

What if she jumped off some bridge, slit her veins again, what if her dead body was found in the woods?

Hundreds of terrifying scenarios whirled through his head so, in an act of desperation, he took his phone out of his pocket and called her, just wanting to hear that she was alive, that she had simply returned to Daemon's house and he didn't need to fear for her life.

She didn't answer, however, causing him to wail like an animal, once again falling into hysteria.

After all, she wouldn't just leave, it wasn't her way.

She would leave a letter, any word of explanation, so that he wouldn't worry and would know what to do next.

He searched the whole flat, looking into all its various nooks and crannies, but was disappointed to find nothing.

Instead, he noticed that her shoes, backpack and charger were gone.

Some part of him wanted to call Rhaenyra, to ask if she was home, but what if she wasn't?

What if they just all panicked thinking something had happened to her because of him?

Where else could she go?

And then it dawned on him.

His hand went quickly to the pocket of his trousers and he exaled heavily, closing his eyes in relief at the thought that the keys to the house by the sea were not in it.

Of course that's where she ran away, he thought tenderly.

Where it had all started.

She needed solitude, peace and quiet.

But was she safe, had she not done anything to herself?

He decided he had to write to her.

He walked around the flat all day with his phone in his hand, constantly checking to see if she had written him back, but she hadn't. He fought with himself like an animal, at the same time wanting to respect that she wanted to think things through without him and fearing that she was there alone and terrified, not knowing what to do.

One second he was deciding that he would drive to her, and the next he was recognising that he couldn't, that she had to reach out to him on her own.

He promised her that he would let her go.

At night he could not sleep, lying on the bed with Vhagar, feeling anxious and afraid, so he spent long hours thinking about what would change their situation.

How could he at the same time give her more room to act and decide, while not endangering her? How could he bring her into this disgusting world and avoid her becoming a simple target?

And then he remembered her father.

Of what he wanted to do.

He stood up quickly, opening the cupboard in which he kept the documents, and began to look through them one by one, feeling his heart pounding like mad with excitement. After a while, he found what he wanted: the title deeds to the premises that had originally belonged to Harwin Strong.

He looked through each one and ran his hand over his face, analysing everything: he'd had a problem with them from the start because the staff who had stayed there were very reluctant to deal drugs: until recently this had frustrated him and he'd contemplated using force on them, but now he decided it was a perfect fit.

They were clean.

He could pass it on to her.

Her collateral, her key to his world, the means by which she could be his partner – ownership would make her a player on the chessboard protected on two sides – by him and Daemon – so no one would dare take away what he had given her.

He knew that, although her stepfather was furious with them, he would never attack her of his own accord – moreover, this decision of his could alleviate the entire conflict between them.

In the morning, he was pacing around his flat, feeling the need to drive to her, to reveal to her that he had a solution for them, something that would make her feel more independent, that would allow her to accompany him to his various meetings, being an equal member of them and not just his chick.

She still gave no sign of life, however, and he began to fear more and more that this meant the worst.

That it was too late.

She hadn't written back.

He decided in an act of desperation that he couldn't wait any longer and had to see her, so he drove to where he hoped never to appear again, which was his family home.

His mother made big eyes at the sight of him.

"– Aemond – I am so happy –"

"I need the keys to the house by the sea. I know there is a spare pair in the house. I lost mine." He said indifferently, pretending that he felt no pain at the sight of her sad eyes, that he did not suffer at the thought that he had been a disappointment to her.

That he had abandoned her.

He didn't want that, but he couldn't go back.

Alicent nodded as if his words broke her and disappeared behind the door, returning a moment later with a bunch of keys which she handed to him, looking at him expectantly.

"Are you happy with her?" She asked.

He looked at her for a moment, feeling that if he opened his mouth he would cry.

So he kept silent.

Yes, he thought.

Only with her.

He nodded his head.

His mother smiled, as if relieved, which made him want to sob even more.

I have failed her and perhaps it is too late.

I have not been able to protect her.

I thought it would be easier.

"I'm glad. Give her my warm regards."

Driving his car to the sea, all he could think about was that he would surely find her body in a bathtub filled with water and her blood, pale and cold.

That she had escaped her suffering in the only way she could, by returning to the only place where she felt safe and happy.

To that summer.

By the time he arrived, night was all around him, the thunder of the storm and the sound of the rain making him anxious – he swallowed hard, seeing that no light was on in any of the windows.

A cold shiver ran down his spine, his steps heavy and slow.

He thought he wasn't ready for this.

He wasn't ready to lose her one last time, forever.

He quietly put the key in the lock and turned it – the door opened in front of him, and when he closed it behind him he was relieved to find that he couldn't smell the rottenness.

There was hope in his heart that perhaps she was alive.

Perhaps she longed to be alone, nothing more.

He moved slowly upstairs, looking first into the bathroom and breathed a loud sigh to see that it was empty – he then moved to her room, but there too everything looked untouched.

He thought, moved, that she was in his room.

Where she felt safe.

He had the feeling that his mind stopped functioning when his hand reached for the door handle and pressed it – when it opened in front of him with a quiet creak, his heart stopped, and he noticed that, indeed, the sheets on his bed were scattered in disarray.

She was here, he thought in disbelief.

But where was she now?

And then he heard it.

A quiet rustling.

God, she was under the bed.

He moved slowly towards her, feeling that his whole body was quivering, seeing himself, then, eight years ago, as if their story had come full circle.

As if everything was heading to this moment.

He knelt down and leaned in, meeting the terrified, sad gaze of her big eyes under the bedframe, her lips clenched into a thin line of fear, her face red with tears.

His heart broke.

"– Rhaenys – oh, baby –" He muttered in a cracking voice, reaching out his hand to her, and she immediately crawled towards him, falling right into the embrace of his longing arms.

He closed his eyes, cuddling her into himself as if he wanted her to melt into one with him, pressing his face against her fragrant hair, her soft, warm, familiar flesh, feeling her whole body tremble, whooping from crying.

"– I’m sorry – I’m sorry – I didn’t know what to do –" She wailed in despair, barely getting any words out, her small hands clenched helplessly on his leather jacket.

He shushed her, stroking her hair and her back, feeling relief, feeling peace, feeling warmth because she was with him, because she was alive, because she hadn't run away, only was lost just like him.

He understood her, understood what she needed and how scared she was.

"– no – it’s okay – I found you, little one – you’re safe now –" He whispered and smiled under his breath when she nodded.

She didn't push him away, she wasn't angry that he had found her, that he had come – on the contrary, he knew that she was actually waiting for him, that she needed him, and he was there for her, for his sweet little girl.

He rose with her, holding her in his arms, and lay down in bed with her, exactly as he had done then, that night. Pulling off his jacket and shoes, he looked at her with a tenderness and gentleness of which he had not suspected himself, her rosy, pretty face, her glistening lips parted in a deep breath.

He leaned down, laying back beside her, and touched her cheek uncertainly, not wanting to frighten her, to make her think he would try to close her mouth with sex and intimacy as usual, making her feel safe only to leave her again the next morning.

No.

This time he had a plan.

For the first time in his life, he felt he knew what to do.

She'd barely sighed when his lips, moist and swollen with longing, pressed against hers in a sweet, lazy kiss – they caressed each other with the quiet clicks of their saliva, sinking again and again into each other's bodies, a shiver running down his spine as her soft hand ran through his hair and down his neck.

God, how he loved her, he thought, feeling his heart flutter in his chest with joy.

"– I love you –" She whispered into his mouth, and he sighed, feeling his cock swell all over and pulse at her words in his trousers, because he craved just that, just those words, the reassurance that, like him, she would never be able to give up what they had. "– that's all I know –"

He wasn't sure they'd ever had such slow, tender, sweet, vulnerable sex together – it seemed to him that her body was melting under his fingers, her plump lips parted sweetly against his slick tongue, their arms holding them close, their foreheads pressed together.

He loved her.

He loved her.

He loved her.

When he felt her again, when he broke deep into her soft, warm, moist flesh again, nothing but helpless, boyish moans and grunts left his throat – her closeness, the sensation of her fleshy walls enveloping his erection thrusting into her greedily again and again was something craved, beloved, meant only for him.

For the first time, he didn't think about what his lover thought of him.

Did she think he had done a good job?

Did he look good in this position?

Were his noises manly?

Did he last long enough?

Did she perceive him as strong?

He simply made love to her, and she, her hands, her mouth, her cunt, her wonderful, sweet body gave herself completely to him, allowing him to fill her with his release with a sigh of relief.

"I know how to fix this, baby. Do you trust me?" He asked her quietly when it was all over, when their bodies lay entwined together in a tender embrace, his hand stroking her head pressed against his chest, right where she belonged.

By his side, always by his side.

He heard her swallow hard, surprised, his soft manhood still deep inside her.

They were one.

For eight years they had lasted as broken halves of a whole.

But no more.

"What do you mean?" She whispered uncertainly, trailing her fingers down his back, and he swallowed hard, thinking this was the moment.

"I will give you back the premises that belonged to your father."

Silence.

She'll think it's an idiotic idea.

That it didn't make sense.

She will walk away.

"What?"

"Before Larys took over their entire family business, your father had three establishments: Harrenhal Club, Twins Club and Eagle’s Nest Hotel. He got to the point, wanting to get as far away from drug smuggling as possible, that the people working there were reluctant to go back to their old ways. Larys forced them to do so, but most of the best workers fled to my grandfather or Daemon. I didn’t know for a long time what to do with these places, but now I think I should just pass them on to you. That will make you able to take part in some of our conversations as an associate, like Baratheon does, for example. I will assign you some of my men to protect you. Some of them are tired and want peace and quiet for themselves and their families. Your presence, the fact that you are with me and at the same time you are Daemon’s daughter gives us the assurance that you will not be attacked from any side."

He mumbled out, feeling like he'd lost his breath in his lungs, throwing out everything he'd been thinking about while she wasn't by his side.

He felt her whole body freeze.

She was in shock.

"What about Jace? Luke? He was their father too." She mumbled, and he snorted, smiling involuntarily.

They had no say in the matter.

There was nothing they could do.

"I don't give a shit about them."

She swallowed hard and lifted her head to look at him – he sighed seeing that her gaze was both terrified and warm at the same time, full of the affection he craved so much.

"I won't have to store your drugs or sell them?" She muttered, and he shook his head quickly.

God, she was really considering it.

"No. You'll just be giving us cover for our meetings from time to time. Nothing illegal that would burden you." He mumbled in a trembling voice, a pleading look asking her to trust him this one last time, to let him fix everything, set it on the right track.

"You'll really do it?" She asked, and he involuntarily licked his lower lip, nodding.

"Yes. Yes, if you come home with me. We'll go to the notary tomorrow, make it official." He said in excitement, feeling his heart pounding like crazy in his chest in euphoria.

She lowered her gaze, sighing heavily, for some reason sad again.

"After all, none of them will want to listen to me. They won't respect me. I'm just a little girl, what do I know about their tough world?" She asked, shrugging her shoulders, and he shook his head.

"I'll help you. Just like you helped me with my studies. I will teach you everything. They'll respect you, first for the sake of me and your two fathers, and then for the sake of you when they realise you'll protect them and not drag them into this shit." He said with a certainty that amazed him, her eyes glazed over with tears.

She wanted to believe him, he knew that.

She wanted it to work.

She wanted to be with him.

"Shall we try?" He mumbled, waiting for her reaction like a sentence.

And she nodded her head.

She nodded her head.

She snuggled into him and he closed his eyes, feeling the tears of relief burning under his eyelids, thinking that he loved her harder than he ever had in his life.

She had always, always been on his side.

"I love you. Everything is going to be okay. I promise."

And she believed him.

They spent the night sleeping in an embrace so tight that he smiled with amusement – as soon as he turned on the bed, tired of one position her small body immediately followed him, her fingers clenching on his back, demanding his tender, safe hold in which he closed her happily again and again.

She slept with her face snuggled into his chest and neck, her legs entwined with his, their hands holding them close.

They were home.

They were home because they were together.

After they woke up, writhing in each other's embrace for a long time, they showered together.

"– ah – mghmm –" She mumbled, her face pressed against the wall, leaning forward, her hips bucked towards him while he opened her up again and again on his erection, swollen from the morning, begging for hours to be fulfilled.

"– what a sight –" He exhaled, looking at her throbbing slit from which his semen was leaking, lazily rolling his hips back and forth, sinking into her sweet, warm flesh.

One of his hands gripped her waist to keep her from falling over, while the other rested on the tiles above her head for balance, the pleasantly warm water washing over their bodies like rain.

Like God forgiving them of all their sins.

"– I love you –" He whispered as if it was the most perverted, ungodly thing he could say to her right now, listening to the loud, quick slaps of their naked, wet bodies against each other, feeling her fleshy cunt squeeze his hard length tighter, sucking it inside her with his throaty groan.

"– I love you too –" She mewled, moaning louder and louder, aroused by how shamelessly exposed she was to him, that he was watching what he was doing to her, that he was bursting into her body, and she couldn't help it.

She was his.

"– f-fuck – mmm –" He sighed as his peak came down on him like an epiphany and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he felt her plump walls begin to clench around his manhood in her sweet fulfilment.

He looked at her again, wanting to see it, his fat, throbbing cock deep inside her as he filled her with his seed.

She was so innocent.

"– what I'm doing to you is so wonderfully wrong – I could fuck you all day long –" He exhaled, panting heavily along with her, stroking affectionately her chubby, smooth buttocks. She moaned at his words, closing her eyes as if she felt his words in every nook and cranny of her body, her hot core clamped tight around his half-soft manhood.

"– yes –" She mumbled, reaching her hand towards his, as if she wanted him to understand that he could embody his desire into reality.

He smiled tenderly at the sight, at her reaction, sliding out of her gently with her sigh of relief and watched as a trickle of his spend dripped down her thigh.

"– uncle and niece, huh –" He hummed, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her upwards, her wet back and buttocks slapping against his body, his lips sinking into her moist, soft neck. She just murmured, embracing his arms, tilting her head back, relaxed and at ease.

She looked up at him at last, her gaze clouded with hot affection, her lips parted sweetly in a deep breath.

"– Hades and Persephone –"

As promised, straight from there they drove to the notary – he didn't want her to think that he was deceiving her again, and that the change in their lives would happen at some unknown time – it was to happen here and now, immediately, and she was to feel that he was telling the truth.

He went to the man who handled the documentation of all the premises that belonged to him – Ned Tully was an elderly man who liked to walk around in big jumpers and tracksuits, however, his gigantic office could tell that he was certainly not a poor man.

He just didn't give a shit about anything and wasn't afraid of the police, which was exactly what he needed.

His Rhaenys followed him inside, glancing at him uncertainly with her big, bright eyes, and he stroked her back with his palm.

"Come." He hummed, pointing to one of the armchairs facing the large oak desk behind which Tully sat, who slid a packet of cigarettes towards him.

He took one out and put it in his mouth, and Tully leaned over and lit it with his lighter.

"What brings you here, boy?" He asked lowly.

He'd always addressed him this way, but it didn't bother him – he didn't do it with a sneer and he was extremely professional, even though he didn't look like it.

He took a drag and let the smoke out through his nose, spreading himself out comfortably in his seat.

"I want to transfer my three properties, three businesses to another person. To my niece." He said calmly – Tully's gaze fled sideways to her small, tense figure.

"Daemon's daughter. Well, well. The world is small. Are you sure you want to do this? Once you sign the papers, it will be too late." He said, and he nodded.

"What properties are involved?" He asked, and he took another drag, tilting his head back, releasing the smoke with his mouth towards the ceiling.

"Harrenhal Club, Twins Club and Eagle's Nest Hotel." He recited from memory, feeling a strange calm, a conviction that he had done the right thing.

The notary prepared a set of documents and, after making sure he hadn't changed his mind, he and his niece signed a piece of paper after a piece of paper and then locked everything up in a folder.

"I will take care of the tax issue myself. Calculate for me how much I will have to pay." He said to him, and Tully nodded.

"What?" She muttered, looking at him horrified, his hand closed on hers.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Hm? It's okay." He whispered, her eyes glazed with tears, her lower lip trembling.

He tried to restrain himself, and he knew she did too, but they had to stop in the woods to find an outlet for their emotions locked in the car, her body warm and willing, welcoming him easily inside, her arms cuddling him between her bare breasts.

He sighed heavily as he came inside her at last, tracing his fingers over her chest and murmured contentedly.

"They're getting bigger. Fuller. From caressing them for sure." He hummed, amused, placing a sweet, lingering kiss on her breast only to clamp his lips on her nipple again a moment later.

He heard her swallow quietly, her hand running through his hair.

"Let's go home." She whispered.

Vhagar was euphoric at the sight of her – she squealed and barked at the same time, running around her and jumping on her, distraught that she was suddenly gone.

The truth was that his dog had become accustomed to not being alone even when he was out and she didn't like the fact that it had changed.

"– there, there – I missed you too –" She laughed, kneeling on the floor, embracing her thick, furry neck, letting her big tongue lick all over her face.

As they ate the pizza they'd quickly ordered, they leaned over the binders full of documents, which they began to look through together.

"You've got the entire history of each establishment here. The owners, the employees, their contracts, invoices for goods, electricity and gas bills." He explained, flipping through page after page. "And the income and tally each month by the accountant. Each of these places earns more than it spends. I've hired marketing people and refurbished some rooms in Eagle's Nest that needed it most."

"That's a lot." She muttered, clearly overwhelmed by the amount of information she had to absorb.

"Don't be afraid. For the first few months, you will simply deal with it with me. You'll be involved in talking to staff and accountants. I will introduce you, I won't throw you in at the deep end. If something goes wrong, I will be beside you to help you fix it." He said, clasping his fingers in her hand, and she nodded, looking at him hopefully.

"Thank you, Aemond. I mean it." She whispered, and he swallowed hard, wondering if he had ever heard that from anyone.

Thank you.

Neither his father nor Otto had ever thanked him.

Not really.

They felt that what he was doing was due to them, that they were doing him a favour by allowing him to earn crores without, in their view, much effort.

They had come to all this through their hard work, not him.

He stroked her soft cheek and kissed her forehead with a quiet click, feeling a pleasant warmth in his heart.

She always knew how to appreciate him.

To say what he longed to hear.

To give him what he needed.

Over the next few days, they mainly went through the documents he kept at home, as well as at each of these places. His staff looked at them in surprise, as he rarely came in his own person, however, he did not want to say what had happened for the time being so as not to cause panic.

He knew that some of them would be unhappy with the change thinking that he had placed her in such a high position despite the fact that she could do nothing, because she was his whore.

Because he had fulfilled her whim.

He had to make them respect her, make them want to listen to her.

They didn't even know she was what they needed.

"Let's go to the supermarket. We don't have anything left to eat." He said and she nodded, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"You do the shopping, I have to go to the pharmacy." She replied lightly, turning her head away. He looked at her, surprised, then back at the road.

"Are you feeling unwell?" He asked, and she swallowed hard.

"No, but… I've been quite stressed lately. With how much I still have to learn. I'm thinking of getting some herbs to drink, some melissa or something." She muttered, and he nodded with understanding, placing his hand on her knee.

"Okay, baby."

As they agreed, he did the shopping, planning to make tomato soup, remembering how he loved it when he was a small child, and met her at the car.

"Did you buy everything you wanted?" He asked, putting the shopping bags in the boot, and she nodded and smiled, something in her gaze that he didn't like.

She was tense.

He knew that she was apprehensive about meeting the staff for the first time – she had insisted that he let her do it alone, but he was afraid that those people would then surround her and bite her, and she would feel even worse.

On the other hand, he knew that they would be calm in his presence and not object, but perhaps they would hate her behind her back.

He didn't want that.

He was not sure if he should start the subject, so he finally gave up and just got into the car and she did the same.

He tried to get out of her what she had bought, but all she said was that it was tea and that she would brew it for herself when they got back.

He didn't know why, but he felt anxious.

When they got home, as soon as she pulled off her shoes she locked herself in the toilet.

With her rucksack.

Perhaps she was suddenly surprised by her period?

He decided that this was certainly the case and took the shopping bags into the kitchen, unpacking them one by one, listening for any strange sounds.

He put the water on for the soup and prepared everything to cook it, glancing constantly at the door in the corridor behind which the light was on.

"Are you all right? Do you have a stomach ache?" He called out, feeling his heart hit harder in his chest.

"I'm fine." She muttered in a cracking voice making him put the glass bottle of tomato puree down on the table and walk in that direction.

"Rhaenys? What's going on? You're acting strange, I don't like it." He said, but was answered by silence.

Fuck.

He slammed his fist against the door, feeling adrenaline and fear bubbling through his veins, the sight of her in a tub full of blood making it difficult for him to catch his breath.

"Rhaenys, if you don't open it, I'm going to break down the fucking door." He growled and swallowed hard when the door opened suddenly and he saw her face red with emotion.

What was that all about?

He wanted to ask about it, but she held out her hand towards him with a small, bright, long object with what looked like a small glass window with pink stripes.

"– what is it? –" He mumbled, wrinkling his eyebrows in concern, taking it from her, watching it between his fingers trembling with nerves.

"– it's a pregnancy test –"

He looked at her, feeling his heart stop suddenly – she was smiling, her gaze warm, full of everything he wanted so much.

"– no way –" He said and she laughed, so lightly and sweetly that he just grabbed her in his arms and lifted her high, smiling like a moron, feeling tears under his eyelids for some reason.

"– baby – oh my fucking God – show me this little belly –" He muttered, lifting her Tshirt higher, leaning down to place a few lingering, loud, sticky kisses on her bare skin.

As he set her down on the ground he burst out crying, for neither his body nor his mind could deal with what he felt otherwise: the girl he loved was pregnant, and she was happy about it despite the fucked-up situation they were in, wanting to create something with him that he had always dreamed of so much.

His own family.

She hugged him, letting him bury his face in her neck, whooping his tears while smiling broadly, his hands clenched on the back of her Tshirt.

"– I'm so happy – God, baby, this is wonderful, wonderful news –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, returning to crying, feeling that he was unable to control what was happening to his body.

"Will you come with me to the gynaecologist?" She asked softly, stroking his back, and he nodded quickly, excited, looking at her with big eyes.

"Yes, of course. Now?" He asked, ready to drive her anywhere and do whatever she needed, his hand involuntarily sliding down to her lower abdomen, stroking it as if she was hiding a treasure inside.

Her fingers stroked his palm as she laughed.

"No. No one will take us in today anyway. But tomorrow, yes." She said with a smile, bubbling with energy, joy and contentment, the look in her eyes warm and bright.

"Okay. Okay." He said, and she squealed as he picked her up again, this time walking with her towards the kitchenette, wanting to finish dinner.

If up until now he thought he was crazy about her and about her being close, he would now describe it as an obsession.

She had to be close because he had to touch her, embrace her, feel her, kiss her – in the evening, once they were in bed, he didn't know what to do – he wanted to fall asleep at the same time with his face snuggled between her breasts, in his favourite place in the world, only to change his mind a moment later, pull the duvet off her and place his cheek on her stomach, stroking her lower abdomen with his palm.

"Mmm." He heard her hum in her sleep, in a natural, affectionate gesture combing her fingers through his short hair, he, however, was in too much euphoria.

I love you, he thought, looking down at her belly, running his fingertips over her bare skin.

I love you and your mum.

He fell asleep in the morning only to be woken by her alarm clock three hours later – he had forced her to make an appointment as soon as possible, so they were due to turn up at the doctor's surgery at seven in the morning. His niece was semi-conscious, asleep in his car, he, however, felt fresh and rested, keeping his hand clasped over hers.

He realised that he was happy.

Truly happy.

He was ashamed to be sitting next to her, lying on the couch, watching as a man in a white lab coat sat beside her in a chair in front of a small screen, wandering a special ultrasound machine over her abdomen, covered in some sticky green gel, and he felt tears under his eyelids, his knee popping all over in a nervous reflex.

"It's true, miss, you are pregnant. You can see it, right here." He said, pointing his finger at a small bright dot on the screen the size of a needle head, and he hid his face in his hands and burst out crying full of relief.

He wanted this so badly.

"Do you want to leave and calm down?" The doctor asked him, and he shook his head.

"I'll print you pictures."

A little dot.

A little dot that was going to be a little man in nine months.

He thought about this as he lay in bed, looking at the few pictures the doctor had printed for them. His niece lay next to him, sleeping peacefully, wrapped in his arm, resting after having to wake up early.

Will it be a boy or a girl?

It doesn't matter, he will love each one equally.

The baby's room, toys, cot, pram, sleepwear will have to be organised.

So many things to do and so little time.

Nine months.

He put the photo aside and slid his free hand down to her belly, stroking it softly, her murmur of contentment made him lean over and kiss the top of her head.

"– shhh – sleep –"

When she woke up he suggested they take a walk with Vhagar and she eagerly agreed.

The fresh air would certainly do both her and their baby good, he thought.

They were both bubbling with energy and optimism.

"I want to tell my mother about this." She said as they walked through the park, and he threw her a quick, horrified look.

"I don't know if it's a good idea. What if they report us? What we did is illegal." He mumbled.

He was slowly beginning to forget that their relationship was incestuous.

He wondered if, if he confirmed his paternity at the Registry Office so that his child could bear his name, someone would realise that something was wrong.

She glanced at him in disbelief, her eyebrows arched in pain.

"It will be her grandchild. She won't, she certainly won't. She's angry with us, but… I can't imagine we'll hide it from everyone. After all, it will start to show eventually." She said, and he swallowed hard, realising that she was right.

Either way, it would eventually come out.

They decided to kill two birds with one stone – he called his mother and she called hers and they both arranged to meet at the same place and time – in one of the cafés not far from their flat.

Sitting at one of the tables by the window, they held hands – her gaze, despite his horror and feeling that it was a mistake, told him that they had done the right thing.

His lamp in the dark room.

Thanks to her, he knew where to go and why.

Alicent and Rhaenyra bumped into each other in the entrance – their gazes expressed shock, discomfort and confusion. Alicent spotted them sitting in the distance, and Rhaenyra followed her gaze and pressed her lips together, lowering her head.

That was it.

They both finally walked over to the table and sat down next to each other reluctantly, trying not to look at each other.

"Can you tell me what this is supposed to mean?" Her mother asked her, and his niece twisted restlessly in her chair.

He lowered his gaze, feeling ashamed but proud at the same time, his fingers tightened on hers.

We are going to have a baby.

"I'm pregnant. You're going to be grandmothers. It's already decided." She said in a trembling voice, leaving them with no illusions about her decision.

Rhaenyra and Alicent drew in a loud breath and averted their gazes. Rhaenyra pressed her lips together and shook her head with tears in her eyes, while Alicent hid her face in her hands, drawing in air loudly.

There was a long, awkward silence.

He looked at his niece in pain, seeing the tears running down her cheeks, and stroked the delicate skin of her wrist with his thumb – he knew that she felt what he felt, that she was simultaneously afraid and ashamed of what they had done, on the other hand unable to imagine that they could have done otherwise.

"And now what? Hm?" Rhaenyra asked in a breaking voice, impatient and desperate.

"We will raise our child and have a wedding. A church wedding. I'm working on it."

"What?" Alicent mumbled, as if she had just woken up from some terrible dream, looking at everyone around her as if she thought she had overheard herself.

"A dispensation and appropriate payment is required for this, but I will sort it out. Everything will be as it should be." He said, looking at his mother, her brown eyes big and red from tears, her lips parted in disbelief.

"What do you want to hear? Congratulations?" Rhaenyra asked, shaking her head.

"I want my child to be able to count on her two grandmothers as well as the rest of our family, but I do not expect it. I thought you deserved to hear it from us." Said his Rhaenys, trying to calm herself.

Rhaenyra burst into sobs, as if something inside her had finally snapped, burying his face in her hand – he saw his mother tighten her fingers on her hand lying on the table, and his half-sister did not push her away.

He pressed his lips together, refusing to let his own tears run down his cheeks, hearing only sighs and sobs, a sense of shame and grief rising in the air, suffocating them all.

Finally, his mother wiped her nose and took a breath, closing her eyes.

"Since there is no turning back and you have made your decision, there is nothing more we can do. This child, if born, will not be guilty of anything and deserves our love and yours. I would not forgive myself if I were not present in my own grandchild's life because of my beliefs." She said, and he lowered his gaze and nodded, feeling like a little boy again.

Rhaenyra took her hand from her grasp and sighed, sitting for a moment with her eyes closed, as if thinking about something.

"I have heard…I have heard that you have passed on to my daughter the premises that previously belonged to Harwin." She said, finally looking up at him with her bright, piercing eyes.

"I did."

Rhaenyra stared at him, pain, grief, sadness and hundreds of other emotions in her gaze that must have just ripped her heart apart.

"Do you love my daughter?" She asked with emphasis on each word, as if she wanted him to understand exactly what the purpose of her question was.

He swallowed hard, looking at her with a blank stare.

"I've loved her for as long as I can remember. Since that holidays at the seaside. It didn't hurt me then that you ran off with Luke. I didn't give a shit about any of you. What hurt me was that you took her with you." He whispered in breaking voice, feeling a single, lonely, heavy tear run down his face.

Him crying that night in hospital, after the operation, when his mother told him that his niece had returned home.

They hadn't even said goodbye to each other.

Rhaenyra's lips pressed together in a thin line, her eyes glazed over, her brow arching in an expression of distress at the memory of those events.

"Will you take care of her? And my grandchild?" She asked, and he felt his throat squeeze so tightly that he had trouble catching his breath.

"Yes."

She nodded, as if accepting something, all around them the conversations of others, the waiters walking by, the smell of coffee, tea and cakes. Rhaenyra looked at him finally and forced herself to smile, in which, however, he saw a hint of sincerity.

Some kind of relief, a conviction that things would be what they were meant to be.

"Make her happy."

[enkephallic]

Canto 8 thoughts now that I've finally reached Pass On.

To preface: I enjoyed the canto. Hong Lu is my favourite Sinner of all. I read the whole of dotrc and watched the drama. I loved it. Having said that...

I do not think kim jihoon read dream of the red chamber. Which... yeah, fair. He's probably on a schedule of 4 hours sleep every day. However, with parts of the canto it becomes very much obvious that he has not engaged with the book.

Reasoning:

The large amount of original NPCs in comparison to book characters. This is probably the biggest giveaway - I don't even mean the likes of Jia Qiu and Zilu, but moreso no-names from the Wang, Shi and Jia families scattered across the canto. Almost none of our part 2 opponents, bar Xue Pan, exist in the book at all. It is a slightly strange decision to make, given the absurd amount of named characters in the book.

There's also the lack of several major characters. I think that every single book reader truly believed Wang Xifeng would play a role in the canto. She plays a major role in running the Jia household, and several of the most dramatic scenes in the novel feature her. I love that they kept Xiren, but having so many multifaceted and beloved characters trimmed away is a little jarring. Yingchun and Tanchun are also nowhere to be seen, and there is zero reference to Zhen Baoyu. A good chunk of important book characters, themes and scenes are completely cut out.

On a similar note, the major altering of defining plot and character points. Daiyu's main trait is her sickliness and proneness to tears, as well as her unending love for Baoyu. Baoyu and Daiyu's relationship steadily develop over the years, until Daiyu sheds all her tears and dies of a broken heart the day of Baochai and Baoyu's wedding. While her tough cookie adaptation self has grown on me very much, she does not resemble book Daiyu. Limbus Cathy resembles book Daiyu much more. Daiyu and Hong Lu love each other, but are destined to not be together in this lifetime (hello canto 6). There is a recurring theme of limbus taking complex female characters and completely altering them.

While book Baoyu is spoiled and coddled by his grandma, limbus Baoyu's trauma is almost solely due to Evil Old Dowager. Book Baoyu is beaten by his father over a false accusation, while his mother sobs and loudly proclaims "a hundred Baoyus could die if her eldest son would come back to life". Book Grandma ran out to stop Baoyu from being beaten half to death. While definitely not innocent in the sense of classism and feudalism, she and Yuanchun are one of the kindest people to Baoyu, raising him and teaching him from childhood. Having two kind female characters turned cartoonishly evil is a questionable decision.

And Baochai. She bears zero resemblance to her book self - the leap is bigger than book cathy and limbus cathy by far. Book Baochai adheres to tradition, suppresses her emotions and pursues marriage to Baoyu as a practical rather than romantic choice. She is very aware of her position as an upper-class Woman, of the limitations cast upon her. Her open personality in limbus is the polar opposite of her book self, though her actions can be very much read as a survival tactic rather than genuine bubbliness. Knowing full well Baoyu's heart is not with her, she still acts as a model wife and urges Baoyu to study to fulfill his duties as a man. Limbus Baochai, although kind, is still painted as a somewhat jilted lover in the epilogue who genuinely loves Hong Lu beyond what's best for her wellbeing and safety. Writing her as a shojo-esque bubbly guro loving romantic girl does somewhat of a disservice to her original character.

I would not have minded cartoonishly evil Grandma or Yuanchun, had they shown evidence of them actually reading the book. There are several cartoonishly evil villains, men and women, in the book - who are all completely ignored in favour of turning kind side characters evil. As far as I know, none of the side characters in limbus bear any resemblance to their book counterparts. Xue Pan is a entitled, sleazy and corrupt man who routinely. abuses his power. Baoyu's father is a heavy-handed traditionalist who almost beat his son to permanent ass damage. Baoyu's mother harms the livelihoods of several of Baoyu's maids on multiple occasions, having a hand in destroying his friendship with the maids around him. Jia Huan is a mean younger brother who is jealous of him, and is generally disliked and mistreated by the household. Limbus' adaptation of Baoyu is pretty great, but that is unfortunately where it ends - none of the other characters act remotely like their book selves.

There's also distinct lack of novel easter eggs, scenes and themes compared to cantos such as 3 and 6. The most notable elements taken from the canon source material is the famous poem by Daiyu, Jia Zhen's search for immortality, and Baoyu's altered mental states after losing his jade mirroring Hong Lu's dissociation. This is also very loosely extracted -the poem by Daiyu laments her own fragile and short life, comparing it to the flowers that scatter. Jia Zhen ingests a bunch of metals to achieve immortality and dies. Baoyu's mental state fluctuates even after losing the jade, returning to near-normal when he's tricked into believing he's marrying Daiyu. Other notable scenes they never included - Baoyu being burned by Jia Huan, Baoyu almost being cursed to death by Jia Huan's mom, the formation of the Poetry Club, the false marriage, Baoyu visiting Land of Illusion.

Baoyu's Land of Illusion is never explained - in the Japanese/Korean version, Hong Lu's EGO is named 虚幻境 while the scenery in Canto 8 is clearly marked 太虚幻境. This distinction is never explained, and "Let's visit the land of illusion" is also never explained. It can be very loosely interpreted as an inner world where his inner child lives, but there is absolutely zero discernible importance within the story.

I know that the popular response to source material adaptation critique is "of course it won't be 1:1" - which I agree. I would not have minded a non-romantic Daiyu and Baoyu. I would not have minded every single side character being cartoonishly evil. I would have even tried looked past them ignoring all gendered oppression and converting it into familial violence and classism. Statistically, I doubt most players have read the massive novel, and perhaps they knew this and took so many liberties with the book. I cannot blame that - but it is very disappointing that the majority of dotrc readers are voicing disappointment, saying they would have gone into the canto blind and enjoyed it much more. I don't think it's a good adaptation if the source readers are largely disappointed.

To explain it in a different context, picture a Romeo and Juliet adaptation - except Romeo and Juliet don't ever love each other and survive till the end, Rosaline is head over heels with Romeo, Mercutio straight up doesn't exist, and the big bad villain of the whole canto is Friar Lawrence. Or picture a Little Women adaptation where half of the sisters are gone. Although liberties can and should be taken, there is a point where readers will go "If this is your take on this book, you probably didn't actually read it from start to finish".

While the canto has grown on me, canto 8 is better enjoyed as a totally original story rather than anything related to Dream of the Red Chamber. I still recommend reading the novel - it's an amazing story with many entertaining adaptations. It is just unfortunate that the limbus adaptation does not make the read worthwhile, and instead makes it less immersive for those who read the book prior.

[anim-ttrpgs]

my friends and i are making characters to play in a Eureka! campaign. the rulebook advises players to not corroborate to make characters—at least not on a mechanical level—as party balance isn't an issue

however, one of my friends brought up a concern: in a system without classes (which btw, i love the trait and skill system and how it essentially allows completely freestyle classes in a fully character driven manner), what makes one character stand out from another?

they brought up that in Eureka!, a monstrous PC could have all the skills of another player's mundane PC, as well as additional monster abilities and weaknesses. especially in a party with more than one monstrous/mage PC, the mundane PCs could have little that sets them apart mechanically if players don't discuss what stats or traits they're taking.

in a balanced class system, each PC stands out as they have a skillset different than the other PCs which forces them into the spotlight when their class features are necessary. obviously, mechanics are far from the only thing that makes a PC unique or otherwise stand out, and i think an interesting character arc or personality makes them just as interesting and unique

but if mechanics are half or even a quarter of what makes a PC stand out/unique from the rest if the party, how do you suggest making sure none of the players feel that they get lost in the shuffle of the party/plot?

There’s quite a few complex answers to this question but I’m gonna give it my best. I think your friends might be thinking of the “composition” of the Eureka party a bit too much like, say, an Overwatch team comp. gotta have tank, DPS, healing, etc., and they worry that if they don’t collaborate then they’ll end up with too many DPSs and not enough healers or whatever. That shouldn’t be a concern at all.

Firstly, at the time of writing this, Eureka has about 60 Traits, and PCs have 3-6 each. I find the likelihood of two characters in the same party having all the same Traits to be pretty low. Plus there’s 21 Skills set between -3 and +3, and a Tiers of Fear chart, and all that is before you even get to the Truth element, which is so freeform that I have a really hard time believing that two PCs in the party will have the same one. All of these mechanical elements of the PC make up their personality and background, and those are the things that make a character. So I think it’s overall really unlikely that two PCs are going to end up too similar.

Another thing is that Eureka isn’t really about archetypes, it’s about people. What makes two people in real life stand out from one another? “Everything” and “nothing” are both correct answers. The difference between two Eureka characters probably won’t be something you can tell just from the silhouette of all their signature tactical gear and weapons and clothing, they’re just guys. It’s much subtler, and Eureka gameplay is designed to bring up those subtle nuances of which makes two normal people unique from each other. And the fact that supernatural characters can also be normal people is very important. If a vampire ends up being “just like you or me,” well, that’s good!

As for “spotlight” and making sure players don’t feel like their PCs are lost in the shuffle, refer back to the Overwatch team comp. comparison. One of the reasons we made it a rule that you don’t collaborate on party composition is because we don’t want you to have a “balanced” party. We don’t want Eureka to be played with a video-game-y “party balance” mindset. People in real life aren’t balanced. Eureka parties aren’t expert teams of specialists assembled to complete a mission, they’re random guys who end up getting themselves into trouble. Grab 5 random people off the street, or grab 5 people you know personally, and you’ll find that they probably don’t make a very balanced party if you were to translate their real life skills and traits into a Eureka character sheet.

And this is good!

Let’s say you end up with a party where nobody has any good Interpersonal Skills(very common occurrence when we play Eureka), and that party comes to a situation that would be very easily handled with a very obvious solution if they had good Interpersonal Skills. Well, the “easy” course of action is blocked off to them. Now, they have to really get creative, or maybe just lose and die.

If this were a video game, this would just be a softlock or a game over, if your character doesn’t have The Skill, they can literally not complete this objective, but it’s a TTRPG, and that’s the strength of TTRPGs over video games.

In a TTRPG, the full range of human possibilities are available to the PCs, and a defeat/loss/death can be more interesting than just “Game Over.”