#technically this was supposed to be the second half of chapter 2

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Wide Awake

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Wolff!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Self-Doubt, age-gap (reader is 22), slight smut (just fingering) , oh and slight orgasm denial.

(SOFIA IS A RANDOM GIRL I MADE UP!)

A/N: This was supposed to just be a one off thing but I kept writing and writing and I'm 99% sure that no one wants to read a 25k worded chapter only for it to BARELY get to the whole point/plot of the fic. so there's going to be another chapter (3 at max)

(Also I promise Too Good To Say Goodbye 7 is coming but I was hyper fixated on trying to finish this which isn't happening ) 🫶🏽😊

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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My dad’s always warned me about getting involved with the drivers. He told me that they’re all too young, naive and that all they’ll be good for is breaking my heart. For the longest time, I believed him. I’ve seen the way some of these young drivers were with girls.

Max cheating on Sofia with Kelly, Lando talking to 3 girls at once and George, well George hasn’t done anything. Point is, I’ve seen how they are and I don’t want to get with one of the young drivers only to have my heart ripped out. AGAIN.

I secretly dated one of the hottest drivers, Charles Leclerc for about 2 months. All was going well we were happy, we had secret dates and maybe I thought he was the one.

That was until one day In Monaco when I showed up to the paddock for Free Practice 1 & 2 I saw him hand-in-hand with Alexandra Saint Mleux. When I saw them together and I realized everything she had that I didn’t. She was at taller than me, skinnier, gorgeous, had flawless skin and had a modeling career. In other words, she was a goddess.

Seeing them together broke my heart and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob, but I couldn’t. My dad warned me about the young drivers but I still went behind his back and did the exact opposite of what he told me not to do. I deserved this.

I had made a beeline for the Mercedes garage just to get out of the public eye but I was so focused on getting as far away from Charles and Alexandra as possible that I hadn’t noticed I was running straight into someone.

I hit this person's body with such force I almost went flying back and I reached my hands out in front of me to try and grab anything for stability and at the same time I felt two hands on either sides of my waist trying to balance me.

I was feeling so many different emotions right now I couldn't even think straight, clearly. I was so angry at Charles for cheating on me even if weren’t technically even dating, sadness because I actually thought Charles was actually capable of loving me, and full fledged embarrassment because I just ran full on into someone thinking about how Charles just ruined my life. And my makeup.

I looked up to face the person I just ran into and tried to profusely apologize for my actions, but when I looked up tho I was met with the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I wanted to stare into his eyes forever but in the half a second it took me to look up I also realized who it was that I ran into.

The 7x WDC Lewis Hamilton.

Even more embarrassment coated my face as I realized that not only did I just bump into someone while trying so hard not to have a mental breakdown but I ran into the Lewis Hamilton, my dad's best and most loved driver. “Oh my gosh Lewis, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and I really didn’t mean to run into you. Please don’t tell my dad” Honestly, it sounded pathetic. ‘Don’t tell my dad’? what are you, 12?

I stared at him in silence for about all of 2 seconds which felt like an eternity until I saw his lips curled up into a smile and heard a small chuckle come from him. “I won’t tell your dad, cross my heart” Lewis said while making an ‘X’ motion over his chest “Who are you running from? I feel like maybe I'm obligated to know since you ran right into me trying to avoid them?”

My face fell in shock. How did he know I was trying to avoid someone? I mean it wasn't rocket science, if I saw a random girl running to an isolated area with tears streaming down her face, I too am going to assume she's avoiding someone. “I- Uh, Well. See”

“It’s okay, Y/N/N, I’m not going to tell anyone. You also don’t have to tell me if you don't want to but I’m willing to help you avoid them if you do.” Lewis said as he placed a hand on my cheek.

I’ve always found comfort in Lewis’ touch. Actually, I’ve always felt comfort whenever I was in the same room as Lewis. Something about his Aura screamed ‘You’re safe with me’

As much as I wanted to, I knew there was no point in lying because one thing about Lewis is that could read people like a book. Including me. With a long, loud and dramatic dragged out sigh I reluctantly told him the truth.

“I was seeing Charles behind my father’s back for about 2 months, everything was going well and I actually kinda thought he was my person but I just now saw him hand-in-hand and all cuddly with Alexandra.” Tears sprung in my eyes and threatened to fall as I recounted what I saw a few minutes prior to Lewis.

He had a sympathetic look in his face and I could tell he genuinely felt bad for me. The hand Lewis once briefly had on my face had moved down to grab my hand before he whispered, "How about this: Tomorrow we wear almost matching outfits and we come back here also hand-in-hand. We'd be together all day and we'll be cuddly too. You know, just to make Charles jealous and regret cheating on you."

Lewis was always putting people's well-being ahead of his and it made a shy smile creep onto my face. As much as I want to, maybe I shouldn't read too much into this though, he's probably just being nice to me to stay in my father's good graces.

"Lewis," I whispered as I placed my hand on his cheek "You don't have to be nice to me because I'm your boss's daughter"

he looked a bit hurt by my accusations. "Is that why you think I'm doing this?" his hand squeezed mine a little tighter.

"Why else would you, Lewis?" his hands came up to cup my face forcing me to look at him.

"Because Y/N/N, I-" he paused, almost like he was trying to find the right words to use. "I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world. I've seen you sneaking around with Charles and it took so much in me not to go over there and tear you away from him, to show him that you're mine. I know I'm older than you but I'm wiser and I'll treat you better than he can." My jaw dropped, there's no way that Lewis Hamilton, a 7x WDC is head over heels in love with me, right?

"Lew, I-" a voice interrupted me, turning my body into stone and my blood into ice.

"Y/N!" I knew that voice anywhere and if he saw the moment that me and Lewis just shared, we were both dead.

"Dad! Hi!" I tried to sound enthusiastic but I was so flushed from Lewis' confession.

"My baby," His hands cupped my face inspecting the red all over "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I'm just hot. You know how the sun is in Monaco." I said with a shrug, trying to change the subject

"Oh you have to go in the AC! Lewis," my dad turned to face Lewis who was already facing in our direction

"Yes, Toto?" he said as he cocked his brow.

"I need you to take my darling girl inside. She has a condition where she can't sweat which causes her to overheat and pass out. I am too busy with this race and getting everything perfect to be worrying about my daughter having a heat stroke."

"Oh, jeez, thanks dad. Just send Lewis to do everything for you" I said in a playful tone

"Of course Toto, I'll take her in right now." Lewis said as he walked over to me and linked his arms with mine.

Lewis started guiding me through the garage and to his driver's room where he opened the door and gestured me in. Once inside he closed the door before facing me with unsure eyes.

"What's wrong Lew?" I said as I cautiously walked over to him.

"What were you going to say before Toto cut you off?" his voice so low, I almost didn't hear what he said.

"I was going to say," I stopped right in front of him, our chests were touching. We were so close I could feel his breath against my skin. "I think that you have to prove what you said about treating me better than how Charles did."

Lewis grabbed my face and pulled me into a searing kiss, our tongues fought for dominance but his won. Lewis picked me up and sat on his couch with me on his lap so I was straddling him all without breaking the kiss.

His hands found their rightful place on my hips and applied pressure forcing my hips down as I rocked my hips to apply more force against his hardening cock.

"Mmm, you taste so good. I can only imagine how much better you taste when I'm eating your pussy." Lewis mumbled against my lips as his hands went just a little bit lower to stop at the elastic of my leggings. I guided Lewis' hands under the fabric to release some of the tension building in my core.

He understood what I needed and quickly started to run his middle finger up and down my fold, collecting all my juices before inserting it in my pussy. Lewis slowly moved his finger in and out of my hole while using his thumb to rub circles on my clit. His movements were slow and sensual bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm. I started rocking my hips into his palm to add more friction to my core and to chase my orgasm which I really needed right now. I was just about to go over the edge until a knock at the door quickly halted both of our movements and caused Lewis to yank his hand out of me leaving me without finishing.

"Mate, FP2 starts in 15. They need us by our cars now" The voice of George could be heard from he other side of the door.

“Oh fuck me” I grunted as I pulled myself off of Lewis’ lap

“Trust me, I was planning on it” He said with a smirk on his face as his hand came to rest on my ass before giving it a smack.

Lewis poked his head out of the door to make sure no one would see us leave, after the all clear we quickly rushed out of his room, both of us going in opposite directions as to not get caught.

————

The next day I heard a knock at my hotel door at the early hours of 6:00am. With a grunt I pulled myself out of the comfort of my warm and cozy bed and made my way to the door. Whoever was interrupting my beauty sleep was going to get a mouthful, I’ll tell you that.

“Do you know what time it is?!” I whisper yelled as I opened the door, not even bothering to look through the peephole to see who I would be yelling at. And boy do I really wish I did look because I was met with the tall, beautiful, muscular frame of Lewis Hamilton.

“Woah honey, I told you we were going to the paddock together. We need matching outfits” Lewis said while looking at me up and down "Do you by any chance have a matching Tommy Hilfiger set?"

"No?" I said, a little nervous

"Perfect, I bought you one that matches mine so put this on" Lewis said as he handed me a bag of 4 different sets.

"Lewis, there's four sets in here. Which am I wearing?" I said I let him in my room and watched as he took a seat on my bed right were I was once peacefully sleeping.

"Wear whichever one you want and I'll match it. I didn't know which of those four you'd like so I bought them all." My heart fluttered a bit at his confession.

--------

When Lewis and I pulled up to the race and got out of the car, we walked to the entrance hand-in-hand.

Charles and Alexandra were the first people to spot us and I took notice on how Charles dropped Alexandra's hand. When I saw that I squeezed Lewis' hand and leaned into him to tell him

"Lew, it's working. He dropped Alexandra's hand" I said with a smirk on my face.

"Wanna give them a show?" I cocked my brow at what he was suggesting but reluctantly nodded my head.

Without thinking twice, Lewis pulled me into a kiss, his hand finding their place to rest on my ass while mine traveled to the back of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

I heard a strings of words which I'm assuming were curse words before I heard faint shuffles of feet echoing away from where me and Lewis were stood. Faint footsteps weren't the only thing we heard because next thing you know we heard clicks of camera shutters.

I pulled away from him with a horrified look on my face.

"Lewis! My dad might see those!" I don't think I was ever more scared in my life than I was in that moment. My dad can't know that I'm sneaking behind his back with Lewis. Well technically this is the second day of this 'sneaking around' but still, he doesn't know."

"Do you want to be with me Y/N/N?" He said dead serious while interlocking our hands

"Yes"

"So you shouldn't care about the pictures and your dad's opinion. Not everyone is going to accept our relationship but that doesn't matter because this relationship is between us. Not them"

"I need FP3 and Qualifying to end ASAP because I so badly want to suck your cock."

“I’m holding you to that” Lewis said as he swatted my ass. Surely the press people got photos of that and when those get out. I’m gonna have a fun conversation with my dad

It took us about 15 minutes to get the Mercedes Hospitality area because of all the fans asking for pictures, Press asking questions and other drivers asking what Lewis thinks he’s doing going out with me.

I almost took offense to that but quickly realized that they didn’t mean it in a rude way but more as a ‘you better be careful because if you break her heart, Toto will never resign you to Mercedes’ type of way.

When we entered, we were met with the angry eyes of my father.

“Lewis.” He said stern, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose “what are you doing with my daughter?!”

“Sir,” Lewis started but my dad cut him off

“Y/N/N, I told you not to go off with the drivers!” His voice raised, not too loud to be classified as yelling but a couple octaves louder than how it was before

“Actually, you said no messing around with the younger drivers. Lewis is older and more wise” I said as I grasped Lewis’ hand tighter.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?”

“Well sir, I intend to give your daughter the best life I can give her, I want to take her everywhere with me, I want to spoil her, I want to have her move in with me, I want to be her husband and I want her to be the mother of my kids.” Lewis squeezed my hand as he said that last sentence.

I never thought about being a mother, I never felt like it was an obligation of mine. I never thought that I wanted kids but hearing Lewis admit to my dad that he wanted me to be the mother of his kids sparked something in me. Lewis made me realize that deep down, I longed to be a mom and now I wasn’t going to be happy if I wasn’t.

“I will kill you if you break her heart.” My dad stated as he stared in Lewis’ eyes as if to try and intimidate him.

—————

It's not the best but I promise the plot is to die for!

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #lewis hamilton #lewis44hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #sir lewis hamilton #toto wolff #george russell #f1 racing #mercedes formula one #mercedes #logan sargent fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fic #oscar piastri #max verstappen #formula racing #zak brown #formula 2 #team radio

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

found you - ch. 4

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! sheltered! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, chokehold, pet names (kitten), gaslighting, manipulation, manhandling, parental abuse (verbal & physical), physical assault (jus a wee bit gruesome), mentions of blood, size kink, begging, hyperventilation/panic attack, lots of toxic 'couple' arguing, sexual assault, psychotic break, downplaying trauma (kinda)

word count/plot: [8.6k] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins...

a/n: hiii a lot of you have prolly been looking forward to this happening so it here it is (this'll make sense after u read it) but basically shii goes down (when does it not). Anyway there were multiple times where I personally wanted to throw a boulder at Gojo bc he pisses me off LMAO and yet I still write him the way I do (smh). Anyway ik this chapter is short compared to the others so don't b upset :,) hopefully the next chapter (whenever I finish writing it) is longer. enjoyy..

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , chapter 4 , ch. 5

Everyone knew they were together now. It didn’t even take a day for news to hit the school like wildfire. She hated it—every fucking second of it because people looked at her so much more now. Not only boys but girls.

She hated the way girls looked at her. As if she were so fucking lucky whenever Gojo walked beside her in the halls. Then there were the other girls-like half of the cheerleading squad-who eyed her like she was a dead rat walking.

She supposed she couldn’t blame them-they we’re all Karina’s lackeys in a sense. And Karina was delusionally infatuated with Gojo in every sense of the word-and, unfortunately for her, everyone knew it.

Everyone also knew that Karina was a bitch. Ara had expected some sort of reaction from her but-to her surprise (and great relief)-the other girl didn’t even look at her. Even when her girlfriends were around and would purposely give her the stankest looks known to mankind whenever she passed-Karina never spared her glance.

And Ara wanted to know why.

Ara didn’t know much about her and Gojo’s relationship, other than it had been more of a friends with benefits thing. But from what Millie told her eons ago-she faintly remembered it being an on and off thing that lasted a while.

She technically could ask Millie for more details, but she knew it would get back to Gojo and the last thing she wanted was him knowing that she was snooping around in his past. It would bother her for two reasons. One, it was sure to bring him an uncanny amount of joy that she was even curious and secondly, she wasn’t doing it because she was ‘jealous’ or whatever he would think.

She was doing it to see how he treated her. Shoko had said that Gojo didn’t date before her but she had no idea how he’d treated girls in the past-if it was anything like how he treated her then maybe.. maybe they could help each other. 

She knew it was a big reach—a risk even. It meant disregarding the rumors of Karina being obsessed with him, but Ara took rumors with a grain of salt anyway. Besides, if there was anything she knew about Gojo, she knew he could manipulate anything. He could manipulate a rock if he wanted to.

Ara just needed the chance to speak to her alone-to encourage some honesty-and the perfect opportunity presented itself just now.

She closed her gym locker and swung her bag over her shoulder. She turned around-intending to head out the locker room only to freeze when she heard another locker door shut close not too far away.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw it was Karina-none of her other friends with her. Ara slowly scanned the rest of the locker room, it seemed they were the last ones here.

Ara slowly approached her, gripping the strap of her tote bag nervously.

She cleared her throat, “Hi.”

Karina glanced towards her, immediately double-taking when she saw her.

Karina was undoubtedly pretty-it was obvious in every aspect of her. Her posture, her voice, her style. They all wore uniforms but bags were all up to the student's discretion-and she always had the latest designer purse on her shoulder and a fresh face of makeup on every morning.

The girl had recently dyed her hair dark. Ara could only speculate why because her loosely waved, light blonde hair was rather iconic but-after an up-close view, Ara decided she liked the black hair better.

Karina’s brown eyes widened, “H-hi.”

Ara immediately felt a bit better-at not having gotten completely ignored-but quickly gathered herself, “Ah, um-I know this is a bit out of the blue but I.. could you tell me how Gojo was like when he was with you?”

She saw something flash through her eyes, “Did he talk about me?”

“No.”

Katrina blinked, “Did he cheat?”

Ara’s brows furrowed, “No..”

Karina stared at her for a long moment, “You're just asking.. just to ask?”

Ara shifted slightly-trying to get a read on the girl but her poker face was pretty good, “I just-I wanted to know if he..” she had no idea how to phrase herself discreetly, “-he treated you well.”

“Treated me well?” Karina repeated.

Ara suddenly regretted speaking to her. The girl was good at deflecting her questions. She couldn’t pinpoint if she was deferring her questions because she wanted her to bring up his psychotic behavior first or if it was because he hadn’t done anything to her.

She decided her next question would clarify-

“If he let you date him, would you still date him?” 

Karina flushed, her mouth partially opening and closing multiple times-as if unsure how to answer.

Suddenly the locker room door swung open and both girls glanced over. It was her friends-and they looked just as astonished to see them interacting.

The other girls quickly crowded them, indiscreetly trying to communicate with Karina with their eyes.

Karina fumbled with her words, “Um-how about we talk about this at my spot tonight? Just come to my party.”

She saw one of her cheer friends turn to look at Karina in shock.

Ara hesitated, “Um..”

Karina snapped her fingers, “Your friends with Millie right? She’s invited, just come with her. See you!”

She watched as Karina waved her fingers, dismissing her. Ara paused, before deciding to play into whatever front she was putting up-if it even was a front.

Ara slowly stepped back, “Sure..”

She readjusted her bag over shoulder before heading out the locker room—feeling all the girls' eyes on her back like lasers.

Ara walked out of her last class of the day. The second she stepped out the door, she flinched when she saw Gojo waiting outside with his arms crossed.

She continued walking and he easily stepped into stride with her.

“Araa,” his tone whiny, “You should at least greet me with a kiss or hug.”

“You had both this morning.”

He smirked, “True,”

He threw his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to nuzzle his face into her cheek, “But that was this morning.”

He kissed her cheek, “You got anythin’ to tell me?”

She tensed slightly, “Like?”

She felt him grin against her cheek, “Like you talked to Karina, and she invited you to her party.”

Fuckin’ hell—she couldn’t keep her mouth shut for one second?

“Why’d you talk to her?” She could hear the undercurrent of amusement in his tone.

“Is there something wrong with me talking to her?” she quickly deflected.

He shrugged, “Not really. You jus forgot to tell her your not goin’-she’s tellin’ everyone you're comin’ to her party.”

“I’m not?”

She felt him glance down at her, “Of course you're not.”

She didn’t dare meet his eyes, “I kinda wanted to go with Millie.”

He dropped his arm from around her shoulder, ‘tsk’-ing her, “That’s not how it works, sweets.”

She finally glanced up at him. They stood outside the school’s main entrance, which was a little ways away from where the buses were parked.

“We go to parties together or no one goes.” He tilted his head, “I have practice late tonight, remember?”

She hadn’t forgotten. She hadn’t forgotten about his little rule regarding parties either-not after he stated it in front of all his friends at Shoko’s party that one night. She never planned to drink again after that.

He ruffled her hair, “I’ll make it up to you this weekend.”

She swallowed—trying to keep her voice as innocent as possible, “I really can’t go with my friend?”

His blue eyes widened imperceptibly. She couldn’t tell if he was shocked by her pushback or by her even expressing a morsel of interest in a party-she hoped it was the latter.

He scanned her face expressionlessly, “That’s correct.” There was no humor in his tone.

She hated the feeling that settled in her gut. It was the same thing she felt whenever she asked her father for things and he’d say no. Except it wouldn’t always ever just be a ‘no’-it would be worse, depending on his mood.

It didn’t matter how simple or burden free the request was. If it wasn’t related to school, he didn’t want to hear it. So she stopped asking. She barely asked him for things-unless it was necessity or school related.

And this, this was no different. She was asking for permission and something about that left an incredibly bitter taste in her mouth.

So much so, she couldn’t keep the lighthearted tone she intended, “It’s just a party.” she bit out.

His crystalline eyes sharpened imperceptibly, “I’m aware.” his tone was oddly light, before taking a step towards her.

She immediately stepped back-her growing fear twisting into anger as she spit, “Can’t you trust Millie to stalk me in your place?”

He took another step towards her, this time his tone crisp, “You’re not going.”

Her response died on her tongue when she saw the buses beginning to depart behind him. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him she had to go, his hand clasped around her throat-forcing her eyes to him.

“Did you hear me?” his tone completely deadpan. He tilted his head, “You’re not going.”

She gasped, staring between his bright eyes before grasping his wrist at her throat, “I-I have to go, the buses are-“

His fingers twitched around her throat-he leaned closer to her, “You’re not going.”

He stared intently into her wide eyes, “Do you understand?”

She swallowed before nodding.

He slowly looked her up and down, “I want to hear you say it.”

Her voice came out shaky, “I-I won’t go…Toru.”

He loved that stupid nickname ever since she said it when she was drunk. She hoped it’d make him let her go, she truly couldn’t miss the bus. 

He was quiet for what felt like a long moment before a slight chuckle escaped him.

He released her neck, “I’ll see you at home, kitten.”

She touched her neck the second he let go. Merely nodding in response before running towards her bus.

She stared at the clothes she laid out on her bed. It was a simple brown zip up hoodie and boyfriend jeans. It wasn’t your typical party attire but she could care less about that. She was only going for information, not for a good time.

She already told Millie that she wasn’t going only so Gojo didn’t find out—since she apparently reported everything little thing to him for no fucking reason. But it didn’t matter, because Millie already sent her Karina’s address earlier.

She’d call a taxi service, that way she could use her spare cash. She couldn’t call an uber because her Dad would see it on her bank statement. God knows how he would react to that.

She glanced at the digital clock on her desk. 8:39 pm.

Gojo didn’t get back from basketball practice till 10 pm. An hour was all she needed. Just in and out of Karina’s place.

Her Dad already thought she was asleep. She’d also stuffed extra clothes underneath her blanket in a human-ish shape to make it look as if she were sleeping there in case he checked.

Everything should be fine. Her hands unclenched and clenched into a fist repeatedly. Everything’s fine.

She couldn’t help but feel nervy. The last time she snuck out by herself was in middle school and her Dad had given her a black eye.

She prayed this was worth it. She couldn’t help but question it-Karina didn’t look like Gojo did anything to her, but how does anyone look like they’ve been assaulted?

She herself had never seen Gojo and Karina talk before so she could only hope that the rumors surrounding Karina being infatuated with him were false. Possibly fabricated by Gojo to keep himself in the clear. Maybe he had something on her to blackmail her with in case she tried to snitch.

She raked a hand through her hair, unease swirling in her gut. She needed to calm down. If her thoughts didn’t slow down she was bound to hyperventilate.

She exhaled shakily. Just wash your face, change and call the driving service.

She opened her eyes and went to the attached bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and immediately felt better. She patted her face with a towel while walking back into her room.

The towel immediately slipped from her fingers onto the floor.

Gojo stood in her room, his back to her. His hand hovered over her clothes on the bed before shoving them all to the floor. She flinched.

He turned around-revealing the front of his built stature in the black compression t-shirt he wore. His platinum hair was stringy-damp, as if he’d just showered.

The second his diamond blue eyes met hers, fear charged every atom in the air. She stopped breathing.

“Why’d you take these clothes out, Ara?”

She stared at his expressionless face, unable to come up with a single word. The silence felt so loud.

Suddenly, he was laughing-his laugh was nowhere near kind. The room felt colder. She wished he would stop.

He rubbed his chin, “I couldn’t stop thinking of it, y’know. The face you made when I said you couldn’t go-“

He chuckled once more, “I kept thinking about it all practice, but she wouldn’t lie to me—you’d never lie to me, right Ara?”

She was speechless.

He shook his head, smiling sardonically to himself, “I thought I was goin’ crazy. I told Coach I had to leave for a family emergency—family emergency.”

He was full-on laughing now, maniacally.

She covered her mouth with her hand, “Stop, Gojo, stop-“

“I should stop?” he snapped, completely deadpan, “You fuckin’ lied to me.”

He took a step towards her and her hand immediately flew up between them.

“Don’t come near me.” she instinctively demanded.

His eyes lit up, “What’re you gonna do, stop me?”

Her heart rate went up when he took another step towards her. She immediately scurried back.

“It’s just a party.”

“I don’t care.” He didn’t stop moving towards her.

Her fear-stricken mind came up with something-to gaslight him, “Why are you being like this? Is it because of Karina?”

That made him stop-confusion flickering within his eyes.

She immediately continued, “You still care about her don’t you? That’s why you don’t want us to meet.” She slowly moved around the room, keeping her back to the wall as she subtly headed towards her nightstand.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about Karina.” he spit out.

The first drawer of her nightstand had a flashlight, maybe she could use it to hit him.

“Y-you’re lying.”

Suddenly she froze, realizing she was cornered. She couldn’t make it to her nightstand without crossing him.

No. no. no.

He stepped towards her, only an arms length away.

He tilted his head, “I’m not a liar. You are. You lied to me.”

She froze, holding eye contact with him for a moment before darting past him to her bed. She scurried atop it, her fingers clasping around the nightstand drawer handle only for her leg to suddenly get dragged.

She was dragged further onto the bed and flipped over. Just as a scream ripped from her throat, a firm hand cupped her mouth. He was over her, an untamed glint to his azure eyes.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, “You’re crazy. You’re fucking crazy.” she cried quietly into his hand.

His hand over her mouth tightened. His eyes blazing, “I am. For you-I am.”

He pressed his forehead against her temple, forcing her face aside into the bed. His voice ragged, “You make me like this.”

Suddenly the doorknob rattled and he disappeared from atop her.

Her eyes widened as she shot up on the bed. The door swung open a second after Gojo stood behind it-the door keeping him hidden.

Her father stood in the doorway. She didn’t have to look at him too long to know he was mad.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Her hands trembled as she fisted the bedsheets. Her voice wavered, “Baba?”

He walked further into the room, holding up a partly crumpled piece of paper-due to how tightly he was holding it.

“Why the hell did I get an email with this picture?”

He threw the paper at her-making her flinch. She picked up the paper from the bed with shaky hands. The paper was a printout of an email. The email account it was sent from looked like a spam one-with more numbers than letters-but it showcased a big picture of an assignment she got an ‘89’ on.

It was the lowest score she’d ever received in her life and it happened on an assignment she did last week. She thought she had gotten away with it-

“EIGHTY NINE?!!!” her father yelled.

She flinched, immediately crying, “I’m sorry, Baba. I’m sorry. It won’t happen aga-“

“Again? Why would it happen again?!” his voice suddenly rose, “I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE A DUMB LIL BITCH LIKE YOUR MOTHER!!!!”

Suddenly he grabbed her by the hair and pulled his hand back to slap her. She felt the heat of his palm a hair’s breadth away from her cheek.

She squeezed her eyes shut, readying herself for impact only for her father’s hand in her hair to disappear. A loud crash ensued.

She gasped, eyes flashing open to see her Father on the floor. His eyes wide in shock as Gojo stepped over him.

Before her Father could even speak, Gojo sat over him and his hands didn’t stop. Blood splattered across the floor.

“GOJO!!” she screamed, as deafening sounds of brutality ensued. She stumbled up to her feet-her body felt like it was made of jelly with how unbalanced she was.

His hands moved so fast she couldn’t even see them, they were simply a blur of red over her Father’s face. The gruesome sound of bone cracking echoed within the room.

She couldn’t hear her own voice as she screamed, “GOJO, STOP!!!!! STOP-STOP!!!!!!!”

He didn’t stop.

She jumped onto his back-sobbing. Her arms slid around his shoulders, trying to hold him back but he was so strong. Her frail arms did nothing. Instead her small body shook with each lethal blow he unleashed on her Father's beaten body.

“SATORU!! STOP! STOPPPP, GOJO-STOP!” she cried in his ear, gripping his shoulders tight as she screamed- “IF YOU LOVE ME, YOU’LL STOP!!!”

Suddenly, his body went still—eerily still. She felt the muscles in his body tense in her hold. All the forcefulness running rampant within him coming to a complete halt.

She felt him lean into her slightly, his breaths shallow as he looked down. He looked down at her shaky arms around him. He reached up slightly to touch her-his fingers barely skimming her forearm when she wrenched herself away.

His hand was wet.

She stared at her forearm in horror. There was a streak of blood. Her Father’s blood.

She shoved Gojo, too panicked to care. “Get off him! Get off-“

He complied, standing up smoothly with his hands cradled to his chest. They were covered in blood.

She gaped the second she saw her Father. His face was covered with shiny, deep-red blood, the white of his half-open eyes the only other color. His forehead and cheeks swollen with welts. His nose was indistinguishable-a complete bloodied mush that continuously poured more and more red. His jaw hung open at an awkward angle.

She screamed, scrambling off her Father’s body while covering her mouth.

“WHAT DID YOU DO-Wh-what did you.. do..” she broke down-sobbing-before crawling to her Father’s side.

She didn’t care about the blood getting all over her as she hyperventilated. She pushed wildly at her Father’s limp chest—“BABA!! Baba-“ she sobbed, “Baba, wake up. WAKE UP!!”

“He’s not dead.”

She froze. Gojo’s eerily calm voice was the equivalent of dumping a bucket of ice-water over her.

She immediately stood up, facing him. Her gaze didn’t waver as she slowly walked up to him. He was emotionless, his bright blue eyes never leaving her.

She shoved him, he didn’t budge.

“Why did you do that.” she asked, completely deadpan.

He didn’t answer.

She shoved his chest again, “WHY DID YOU DO THAT!”

This time she didn’t stop-her small fists hitting his chest erratically while he stood completely still. Her hits had no coordination, no impact on him. She sobbed through gritted teeth.

“Enough.”

He grabbed her elbows, his fingers digging deep enough to hurt. She flinched, only to yelp and fall to her knees when she saw his hands.

They were drenched in blood-upto his elbows. They dripped at his sides as she hunched over before him, breathing unevenly.

“I’ll handle this.” his voice was faint to her ears.

He dialed a number.

Ara stared outside the wide glass windows. She could see so much of Los Angeles from here. The world looked so big. People looked like tiny dots moving below.

Her gaze flickered to the window's reflection, noticing the nurse leave.

She turned around and faced the vast executive suite. She didn’t even know hospitals had luxe suites. This room was on one of the top floors of the building as well—which made the window-side view all the more daunting.

She walked over to her father’s bedside. His face was covered in bandages as he lay eerily still. He would survive, that was all that mattered-and he’d never have to worry about a single thing.

Gojo made sure of that.

The alibi was that a robber came through her bedroom window and she’d yelled for her Father-who immediately went to her room to deal with the intruder but got beat instead. And Gojo happened to be the young billionaire scion driving by who’d overheard her screams and ran in to help. The robber-conveniently-being gone by the time he got there.

And-of course-Gojo being the kind soul he was, immediately got her father transferred to the most renowned hospital in California. She was pretty sure Kim Kardashian gave birth to one of her children here.

The alibi was well fleshed out but she couldn’t help but question if her father would remember something. Gojo-kindly-reminded her that even if he did remember, it wouldn't make a difference because by the time he woke up the case would be closed. Two uninjured witness statements would be considered more viable than his injury muddled recollection of the incident anyway, if he were to report it—according to Gojo.

She hadn’t even been concerned about her Dad reporting any discrepancy in his memory anyway, but the fact that Gojo brought that up first only made her more aware of how well versed Gojo was in law enforcement proceedings. She didn’t even want to know how or why—All she knew was that his efficiency with this matter revealed how he wasn’t a novice to these kinds of things.

She didn’t want to think about what else he’d gotten swept under the rug.

She stared at her Dad’s limp hand—merely grateful he was alive. The doctors had realigned his jaw and saved as much of his nose as they could. The welts and bruising along his face would go away with time.

There was a chance her Dad’s mobility could get affected by the brain injury that had incurred. The surgery had gone well so the chance of permanent damage was low but if he hadn't gotten the high quality care at the speed he had, his chances would've been very different.

Her Mom still hadn’t answered any of her calls. She supposed that was expected.

She reached out, her fingers shaky as she contemplated holding her father’s hand for a moment.

But image after image of those same hands hurting her flitted through her mind. The impact that single part of his body had on her mental health, confidence and life… It made her want to cry.

She withdrew her hand, blinking rigorously before walking out into the hallway that led into a wide ceiling, hotel-like common room. It was so silent-the only sound being the hum of her father’s patient monitor. Gojo had booked out the entire floor.

She walked towards a set of double doors and pushed them open. Gojo sat in the modernly furnished room, hunched against the couch as he faced the TV-despite it being off. He had enough decency to let her be alone with her Father it seemed.

His blue eyes flickered towards her when she entered. He leaned forward in his seat-posture still slumped as he raked a hand through his platinum hair. They’d been at the hospital all night and this was the first she’d spoken to him since her Father’s operation a few hours ago.

She didn’t even know what to think when she looked at him.

He looked up at her, something in his turquoise eyes seemed to waver, “I’m sorry.”

She froze in her stance, “..What?”

He spoke a bit fast, “I-I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know your Dad was like that-Millie told me he was strict about your grades so I jus thought he’d ground you or some shit-”

She blinked, an undercurrent of agitation in her voice, “What are you talking about?”

“—You never told me. If you told me he was like that..“ he drifted off before shaking his head subtly.

Her brows furrowed, “You would’ve what? What, huh?”

He was silent, his countenance somewhat conflicted.

“Killed him?” she mocked.

His bright eyes met her in an instant, “If you let me, yes.”

She stared at him-completely stupefied. He hadn’t hesitated for a second.

She scowled, “How can you even say that? That’s my father-my father!”

He stood up-a crazed quality to his eyes as he spoke, “You didn’t see your face, Ara. You looked so..“ his eyes drifted off elsewhere, as if envisioning it, “..so scared. And he was jus being so fuckin’ rude to you-I couldn’t jus—I had to—“

She stared at him in complete disbelief-unable to keep the anger from her tone, “You didn’t have to do anything!”

He stepped towards her, “I did it for you. I told you-all of your problems are mine.”

Tears swam in her eyes, “No they aren’t, Gojo! They aren’t.”

“They are,” he insisted.

She stepped back-voice shaky, “I would never want you to kill my father.”

“You’ve thought about it though, haven’t you? Even in passing-you’ve had to, at least once-“

“No,” she whispered.

“How much easier life would be if he was just dead.”

“NO!” her shaky hands were fists at her sides.

He laughed dryly, plopping back down onto the couch, “It’s okay, Ara. It’s okay to think those things...”

He lay his head back on the couch's headrest, “I already told you, there’s no line I won’t cross. Jus say the word and he won’t be an issue again.”

Her eyes widened in horror.

He lifted his head to peek at her before sighing, ”Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that. You want him gone. Admit it.”

“I don’t.” she gritted out.

“I know you.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Suddenly he was out of his seat, walking towards her. He was so fast she barely had time to move backwards. Her back hit the wall and she gasped–fear rendering her frozen when she realized she was cornered.

His hand slipped around her throat as he spoke-his voice barely above a whisper, “I do know you, Ara. I’m the only one who knows you.”

She felt tears touch her eyes. Her throat tightened underneath his fingers, swallowing down the low sob that threatened to spill past her lips. 

His thumb caressed her racing pulse before slowly lowering his hand. His fingertips skimmed over her collarbones as he rested his palm atop her chest. His hand felt cold against her skin.

His voice was soft, “Why are you protecting him?”

She closed her eyes, inadvertently holding her breath. His palm pressed further into her chest–making her erratic heartbeat pump faster.

“And don’t say cuz he’s your Dad,” he spat, “He still hurt you.”

She flinched.

She felt his hair tickle her forehead. He was closer now. The air felt more weighted.

“Do you love him?” he asked, ever so quietly.

The question felt like a punch to her gut. Did she love him? She didn’t know. She never thought about it before. All she knew was one thing…

Her eyes fluttered open, finally looking at him. He was so close—too close.

“I-I don’t want him to die.” she choked out.

His sky-blue eyes slowly ran down her face, taking in her every feature. His eyes latched onto the tear that slipped out of the corner of her eye.

He cupped her face, “Relax, kitten. I’m not gonna kill him.”

She was trembling so bad, she didn’t know how to stop. He stroked the sides of her face lovingly.

“I know I almost did but I stopped, didn’t I? I stopped.”

She bit her lower lip, trying to contain the urge to cry. He drew her close, pulling her into a hug–trying to quell her trembling.

His hands ran through her hair comfortingly, “I still don’t regret hitting him.”

She was too caught up in her emotions to fully register his words.

He continued stroking her back, “Only thing I regret is sending the email.”

She froze.

He drew her closer against his chest, “I only meant to stall you. I figured you might try—“

She tried to shove herself out of his grasp, “YOU sent that email?!”

His grip around her didn’t budge, “Ara-"

She miraculously managed to slip out of his grasp. 

She shoved him back-simultaneously staggering backwards as she did so, “What the FUCK is wrong with you?”

His eyes never left hers, “I didn’t know your Dad-“

“You think that makes it any better?!” she shouted in disbelief-too angry to think. Her Dad would’ve been completely uninvolved and unharmed if he hadn’t sent that stupid email. “Why do you always have to take things so far?”

His brows furrowed-tone crisp, “Because you don’t listen to me.”

“So?” she spat, “So?”

At his silence, she continued-her voice gradually rising, “Am I not allowed to disagree with you? Am I not allowed to make my own decisions? Am I not a human being?!”

His eyes narrowed, but she couldn’t stop—all of her frustration was pouring out now.

“I’m tired. I’m sick and goddamn tired of people trying to tell me what I can and can’t do and I’m sick of getting hurt everytime. Everyone I know hurts me. Everyone!”

“I don’t hurt you.”

She stared at him before a soft, delirious, laugh slipped past her lips, “Are you kidding?”

He stared at her, expressionless.

“You don’t think you hurt me?” she questioned.

The corner of his mouth twitched, “Not in the way your Dad has.”

Her eyes widened, “No, but you do worse! Your always with me-you try to control me a-and y-you touch me-“

His blue eyes flashed with something indescribable, yet his tone remained calm, “You like it when I touch you.”

“No!” she yelled, “No, I don’t. I cry every time we fuck, Gojo-how is that normal?”

The corner of his lip tugged upward, “That’s cuz you're still not used to my size.”

She stared at him in shock-filled contempt, “You're insane.”

He waved his hand in the air, “Normal. Insane. You keep throwing these words around—who gives a shit?”

“I GIVE A SHIT,” she yelled, “I GIVE A SHIT BECAUSE ITS AFFECTING ME!”

Suddenly he was right in front of her-his hands grabbing her throat—forcing her to look up at him.

“Well-maybe-if you wanted something normal so damn bad you should’ve answered me the first time I talked to you. I would’ve given you flowers, dates—the whole charade. I can still do the same, but it’s not the same now—is it?”

She was too angry to be scared. She stared up at him with so much anger as she spit back, “I didn’t talk to you because I didn’t want to. Don’t you get it?!”

She grabbed his hands at her throat, “I never wanted you.”

She watched his intricate eyes widen and she swore she saw her life flash before her eyes. But instead his eyes softened—his white lashes fluttering open and close before the crease between his brow deepened.

His fingers around her throat tightened, “You need me.” he whispered, and something about his whisper scared her more than her Father’s yelling ever did.

She fought to keep her voice even, “W-we never should’ve started, Satoru.”

He was frozen, as if stricken. Something in his light blue eyes seemed to fade as his expression darkened, “I don’t believe that.”

She ignored the chill that went down her spine at his words. She grabbed his wrists, attempting to pry his hands off her.

“Believe it.” she spat-channeling all her anger to keep the blaring alarms of fear and crawling paranoia at bay. Her voice was tight with venom as she spoke, “We’re over.”

Suddenly his eyes sharpened-any conflict or barely restrained anger slipping off of his face in an instant. His gaze was so sharp-so magnetic-she felt like he was harming her despite not feeling a thing.

His fingers around her throat were loose and his posture was lax-he was merely standing over her, looking down to face her. Nothing was technically off, but she knew what she felt.

She knew what strength he had stored within every part of his tall frame. How each limb of his body didn’t lack the uncanny amount of solidity he had. She felt it every time she was with him, whenever she spoke a bit too honestly—whenever she dodged his touch—how easily the mood could shift because of her shortcomings. How easily the invisible lines could be crossed.

It was like a mouse in a trap—squealing wildly against its restraints, beady eyes staring helplessly at its captor.

Except her captor didn’t want to kill her.

He tilted his head, “We’re over?”

She was so still, she wasn't sure if she was even breathing. His eyes dropped to his hand at her throat. She wondered if he could feel her flighty pulse.

She fought to keep her voice even, “We’re over.”

Suddenly his lips were on her-kissing her so hard that any breath she’d been holding came rushing back at full speed. She gasped, unable to refuse his lips-his tongue-as he held her by the throat. His hold unrelenting.

Her hands pulled at his wrists to no avail—until his grip loosened. She shoved herself away from him, moving so fast that she fell to the floor—a couple feet away from him.

He watched her breathe shakily before him, on her knees—just the way he liked.

He took a step toward her, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. She didn’t bother looking up at him.

“You need me, Ara-you need me.”

She felt him go on one knee before her and quickly turned her face aside. She couldn’t look at him.

He gently moved her hair out of her face as she trembled.

“I’ll wait for you.” he murmured.

He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger before standing up. He left the room without looking back.

He didn’t come back to the hospital after that. It was radio silence. Not one text. Not one call. Not one single word.

She almost didn’t believe it. It felt too good to be true. It nearly felt like everything went back to the way it was before her rank was announced–except for his lingering stares.

She always felt it-that odd nagging sensation-before letting her eyes follow it. He would confirm her instincts everytime her eyes landed on his unnaturally blue ones. It didn’t matter if he was just passing by on the other side of the hall or if he was gazing past Geto’s locker to watch her walk into homeroom—she always knew when he was looking at her.

At first, it would leave her startled but gradually she chose not to think about it-as long as he stayed away from her, nothing mattered. Even if the whole school thought he mattered—

Everyone noticed it the first day. He didn’t enter the school with her or meet her in between classes to shower her with kisses or obnoxious hugs. By the time last period came around, half of the school had asked her if they had broken up. All she would respond with was, “Stay out of my business.”

She hated every second of dealing with that. Especially when all she could think about was her Dad. If she wasn’t at school, she was at the hospital. She took the bus back and forth until a meek, suit-clad boy near her age approached her and told her that he was assigned as her personal driver. She told him she had no idea what he was talking about. He went on to explain that his service was pre-paid for and handed her his business card. His name is Ijichi Kiyotaka.

There was an emblem on the back of the business card that she later googled—apparently it was the Gojo family symbol. She didn’t think those still existed.

At first she stubbornly took the bus until Ijichi ran up to her at the bus stop when it was raining. He begged her to use him since he was bored out of his mind-his only job was to be at her convenience, even if that meant following her by car in order to be more accessible to her. She was startled at first before deciding to humor his desperate confession due to the bad weather. She never intended to use it again until she realized the private car took less than half of the time the bus did.

She wondered why Gojo felt courteous enough to leave such a thing for her to use—maybe he felt bad or maybe he knew she’d need it since he wouldn’t be around to drive her everywhere. Or maybe this was his way of keeping tabs on her-not that he needed to since her phone glitched every time she tried to turn off ‘location sharing’ with him. Of course, the bastard tampered with her phone.

She wasn’t the least bit surprised. But what had left her shell shocked was when the nurse first took off her father’s bandages. His entire face looked different. His nose reconstructed, subtle dents along his now bald head—it seemed the doctors could only salvage so much.

He didn’t move for a few weeks. The nurse and her took turns propping him up and feeding him meals. It always made her uneasy whenever it was her turn to feed him. Her father had never looked this vulnerable in her life.

Around the third week, he started to talk again. At first it was one word responses, then a string of words and then-after a couple days-full sentences came back to him.

But he was different-different from before. He was.. lighter-as if some type of weight had been lifted. He didn’t remember anything about the incident, and wasn’t the least bit angry when she recounted the details of the ‘alibi’ to him.

He was even kind to the nurses. Offering them smiles when they told him it was a miracle that his speech and mobility were returning at the rate they were. She’d never seen him smile in her whole life.

After several weeks of physical therapy, her father was back on his feet. They went back home after two months at the hospital.

It felt so weird to be back home. She hadn’t been home since the incident. Her father still remained oddly nice. He was still somewhat bed bound due to not being clear to work yet.

She wasn’t used to seeing him home this often, but it wasn’t as much of a nightmare as she thought it would be. In fact, he seemed to look forward to greeting her whenever she came back from school. 

His newfound kindness was so absurd to her she couldn’t believe it. It felt like a front. She almost wondered if her dad had gotten swapped out—especially after he took her hand once and thanked her.

She couldn’t help but stare at him after he said that. The only thing she could say was ‘for what’ and his response was a quiet ‘everything’.

She cried so hard in her room that night.

Two nights later, the peace ended.

The sound of something shattering echoed throughout the house.

Ara awoke with a jolt, her eyes instinctively going to the window before flitting to her bedroom door. It had come from further down the hallway.

She stepped out of her room to see her Father’s office room door left ajar. She slowly walked up to his door before shakily grasping the doorknob.

“Baba?” she asked before opening the door completely.

Her father was on his knees beside his desk. A broken mirror at his feet. His fingers were bloody.

He stood up, his hands out in front of himself, “What did you do to me, Ara?”

She stared at her father, shell-shocked.

His voice was hoarse as he ran his hands over his face, “This isn’t my face. THIS ISN'T MY FACE!”

He began to grab things off his desk and throw them across the room. She ducked.

“THIS ISN'T MY FACE. THIS ISN'T MY FACE. THIS ISN'T MY FACE. THIS ISN'T MY FACE. THIS ISNT MY FUCKING FACE!”

She was crying while holding her arms over her head.

Suddenly her father’s voice came from above her. He grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to look up.

“DO YOU SEE MY FACE? DO YOU SEE IT, ARA?”

She stared at him through tear stained eyes—trembling, “Y-yes.” she whispered.

“DOES IT LOOK LIKE YOUR BABA? HMM?”

She flinched. The slight scars along the sides of his face hadn’t completely healed and the indentations were there to stay. His nose was different but it was the best the doctors could do. He’d already seen his face unbandaged before so she couldn’t imagine why he was acting like this now.

He snarled, his grip around her hair tightening, “And don’t fuckin’ lie..”

She inhaled shakily. Anxiety made her throat tight. There was no right answer.

She lightly grabbed the wrist of his hand at her hair, “Baba, please, let go-“

Suddenly something flashed in eyes and he yanked her hair-making her yelp, “Who was that white haired boy? Hmm, WHO?”

Her eyes widened.

He yanked her hair once more, making her cry out, “I know he was in your room first. He was there before me.”

His grip on her hair was hurting her, “B-baba! Please-“

He shook her, “Did you send him to attack me? You hate me that much? HMM?”

She was kicked to the floor. She cried out when her shoulder collided into the hardwood.

“You HATE YOUR BABA THAT MUCH!” he bellowed.

She cried, curling into a ball as she knew-she knew-what was coming. It seemed her father hadn’t changed after all.

She closed her eyes the instant the kicking ensued.

He swung the door open and shoved her out. Her legs were too weak to stay upright as she stumbled, before falling to her knees on the porch. She sobbed.

“GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY HOUSE!”

He kicked her, forcing her off the porch. She caught herself a second before her head connected with the asphalt.

She weakly stood up, “Baba, please-don’t do this-“

He bounded in her direction and she immediately scrambled backwards.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT! I DON’T WANNA SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN!” He yelled while pointing at her.

She watched him retreat to the house and slam the door through tear stained eyes. The windy night air only made her eyes more watery.

She crumpled to her knees, crying into her hands. Why? Why? Why?

She was so tired. So tired.

Of course his kindness only lasted so long.

She grabbed the duffel bag from underneath her bed. She limped to her closet before stuffing as many clothes as she could within.

She winced when she heard things getting thrown downstairs. It seems he was still in the midst of his episode. Her heart thumped wildly in her ears-the only thought going through her head was to move fast.

She quickly went to her bathroom, grabbing a few necessities before her hand accidentally knocked into her toothbrush stand. It hit the floor with a loud crash.

She gasped. Oh no.

Suddenly all the ruckus going on downstairs went completely quiet. Shit.

She was frozen in shock until she heard the sound of someone bounding up the steps. Adrenaline shot through her veins as she tossed her half full duffel bag over her shoulder and ran towards the window-ignoring all the pain within her body as she scrambled out the way she came.

Just as she slipped out she heard her father burst into her room, yelling insults of every kind.

“YOU STUPID BITCH! YA THOUGHT YOU COULD COME BACK, HUH? HOW FUCKIN’ DARE YOU!!”

She flinched as she sped walked across the lawn-unable to run due to the pain her father’s cold hands and brutal kicks had inflicted.

She heard her father’s voice clearer now. He must’ve spotted her out of the window.

“YOU USELESS LIL SLUT-JUS LIKE YOUR GODDAMN MOTHER!! IF I SEE YOU AGAIN I’M THROWING YOU IN A MENTAL ASYLUM, YA HEAR ME?!!! DON’T EVER COME BACK! DON'T EVER COME BACK!!!”

She grit her teeth, forcing herself to not look back as his yelling grew more irrational. She moved as fast she could, half walking-half limping further down the street. She didn’t look back.

The night was dark. The only light keeping her company were the streetlights along the road but it wasn’t enough. It was still too dark for comfort. No stars, no clouds-her eyes couldn’t get used to it.

She nearly dropped her phone when a car zoomed by.

“Can yo-ou hear me?” Millie’s voice crackled through the phone. Her phone service was acting up.

“Yes, yes. I can.” Ara cleared her throat-trying to dispel the croakiness of her voice, “Millie, please. I-I’m begging you. Just sneak me in this once-please.”

“Ara, you know I would but I’m already grounded. If my parents find out I snuck you in they would actually kill me. Like legit-they’d freak out.”

Ara squeezed her eyes shut-trying not to cry, “Millie, please, I-“ her voice cracked as she whispered, “I have nowhere else to go.”

She hated begging so much, and yet it’s all she seemed to do.

Millie was quiet for a second, “Are you sure you can’t like-sneak into your basement or something? Hopefully your dad will have cooled off by morning.”

That would’ve been a great idea if her basement wasn’t only accessible from the garage. Her Dad had multiple cameras and motion detectors installed around the garage. I don’t know what he’ll do if he sees me..

Ara tried to keep her voice steady, “He said he didn’t want to see me again.”

“Yeah, but parents say crap all the time. I’m sure he didn’t mean it-“

“He did.” she deadpanned. Her Father never said those words before, nor had he ever physically kicked her out. She’d seen the violence in his eyes, the spitefulness in his words—it was different. He was ready to hurt her if she came back.

“You really think so?”

Her father’s ferocious expression flashed within her mind and she flinched, resisting the urge to sob. Would anyone ever believe her?

Her voice was faint, “Yeah.”

“Shit-“ Millie was suddenly cut off when a womanly voice came from her end.

“Millie! Who the heck are you calling this late? Gimme that-“

Suddenly the phone line was cut, leaving the dull beeping sound behind.

He paced beside the main entrance. The sound of his dress shoes clacking against the spotless floor echoed throughout the foyer.

Suddenly a feminine voice arose from behind him.

“Sir, your Uncle requests to speak with you.”

He snapped his head around to see a maid outstretching the phone to him with both hands.

The corner of his lip twitched in annoyance, “Just end it. I already told him I left and won’t be back for the rest of the night.”

The maid knew better than to question it-even if colorful words of dismay arose from the other end of the phone. In all honesty, he hadn’t told his Uncle that he wouldn’t be back but was it really that much of a concern? The soirée was boring as shit anyway. Too many old people.

The second he got Ijichi’s call nothing else mattered anyway.

He peered out the bullet proof glass doors when he saw headlights flash past. It was hard to see clearly due to the downpour but he immediately recognized the all black Rolls Royce that pulled up to the entryway.

A subtle grin tugged at the corner of his lip as he sauntered backward a couple steps. He leaned against the stone and marble centerpiece of the dual staircase foyer. The excitement simmering in his veins was unmatched.

Just as he crossed his arms, the double doors were pushed open—revealing her.

Any thoughts about posing left him the second his eyes landed on her. He’d never felt so awake—so drawn to someone.

He was up and off his perch within seconds. He walked up to her, pacing his long legs to move steadily despite everything in his body telling him otherwise. He wanted to rush to her.

He stopped right in front of her. She still hadn’t stepped inside yet.

She was completely drenched-from head to toe. Her clothes stuck to her skin. Droplets of water slipped down the waist length tendrils of her hair. The edges of her pretty lips were raw and reddened-she always had such a bad habit of gnawing at them, didn’t she? Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy as she stared up at him.

She looked so.. lost.

He exhaled silently. His fingers twitched at his sides-the heedy urge to touch her returning at a thousandfold.

Why’d she have to look so pretty when she cries?

He couldn’t tell if the droplets of water caught between her lashes were rain or tears but it didn’t matter. She was here.

She came to him.

She needed him.

He peered down at her before tilting his head, “Hi kitten.” His voice ever so soft.

He saw her eyes widen before her bottom lip quivered. She fell into him and he instantly caught her trembling frame. He drew her close to his chest, hugging her tightly as she sobbed against him. Her tiny hands fisted his dress-shirt, clutching onto him-she didn’t want him to let go.

The rush that coursed through him was incomprehensible. It went straight to his head as he smoothed down her wet hair. His arm around her waist tightened impossibly. He never wanted to let her go.

Her touch was terribly sweet—overwhelmingly so. It’d been the most agonizing two months of his life without her.

Wherever her delicate body met his, warmth surged underneath his skin—like a craving being satiated. It felt so right. Her with him like this. It was perfect. She was perfect.

And she was his.

They both knew it now. The second she stepped onto his doorstep she must’ve known.

She could cry all she wanted in his arms now, if that soothed her. It’d be the last time she cried over anything meaningless anyway. All of her tears would be his alone from now on. He’d never let anything hurt her again.

Precious things ought to be cared for, after all.

a/n: hi thanks for reading this crazy ish bc honestly idk how anyone does LMAO but i want to apologize if the way some things were worded/the grammar is off bc i feel like i've been off my writing game. i haven't been reading a lot in my personal life and that usually helps me format things better :,) i need to get back to reading asap. anyway, if anyone is curious here's the house inspo for gojo's place -> https://imagelocations.com/mansion-31

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#jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk oneshot #jjk smut #gojo fanfic #gojo imagine #gojo x oc #gojo hcs #gojo headcanons #gojo x you #gojo angst #satoru gojo #satoru smut #gojo oneshot #anime #jjk anime #jjk x you #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #geto suguru #shoko ieiri #jjk fluff #gojo drabbles #jjk headcanons #gojo fic #gojo smut

[66sharkteeth]

Time for my weekly thoughts and man this week is a frustrating one. It was just supposed to be a cute episode w/ a sad little moment between Claude and his dad and a sweet one between Desmond and his sister but I'm so concerned for the reading comprehension of so many people after this one.

First, the one I saw talked about most-

For christ sake, YES, they can technically have kids. But you have seen the result of a human and blank having a kid. Remember Rex living in his basement for 18 years?? Remember the literal PROTESTS about the last half-blank that was born? And how she was going to be sent to a lab?? Yes, they can technically have damn children!! But nobody in their right mind CHOOSES to have a half-blank! That is all Desmond meant. Second, this was originally supposed to be commentary on just...how weird it is he's even thinking about that lol. Like I'm ngl, I always find it really weird how...interested people are in my characters breeding. Any time there's any sign of romance between a male and female character, there's tons of comments on what that would mean for their children when children aren't even a concept in their minds rn. Like why do you care what percent blank Rex and Nia would have? You think Nia's even remotely thinking about that rn? Idk, it's ALWAYS weirded me out when that's the first question people have about a ship, but it's a VERY common question, so I wanted Rosie to call out how weird it is lol. If you're one of those people who asks that tho... Then idk. Sorry. I think that's a little weird of ya!! I get eventually wondering it but why is it like always the first concern?

Second:

Rolling over more so from last week, the amount of people shocked in the recent episodes Claude is a Blank? I already ranted about this a bit in a previous post, but the amount of people acting like this is the first they're hearing of this....seriously makes me question my writing and also sad how little people must be actually reading this. There are so many instances of Claude without his mask, flat out stating he's a blank, seen with blank space, and most blatantly, stealing a drug that is only intended for blanks? And implying he's gonna use it?? Like at this point, you must just be skipping any chapters where Claude is on screen and it makes me feel like I'm wasting my time writing his scenes.

Lastly... And this one has been baffling me since season 2:

WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE THINK JAY IS A GIRL??!!!??!???!

He has AMAB anatomy, he's use he/him pronouns the entire series, and his siblings call him "brother." Is it his hair???? Because even that was inspired by a male character!! (Usopp from One Piece) This one's been a mystery to me since s2 when he was introduced. Is it just people assume a person raising their siblings like a single parent must be a girl?? Or is it less deep than that?

Sorry for such a cranky weekly thoughts but oml I just...couldn't even enjoy the comments about Desmond being a silly protective brother because it's just one of those weeks where I feel like everyone's skipping every episode that isn't entirely focused on Rex.

#city of blank #desmond #rosie #claude #jay #weekly thoughts

[spacebarbarianweird]

The Dhampirs of the Sword Coast - Chapter 3

Part 3 of Astarion's daughter adventures and consequences of releasing 7000 vampires into the Underdark. After saving Tara from the smugglers, Alethaine finally meets her parents' friend, Gale Decarios.

Read on AO3

Link for Part 1, Part 2

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

The List of Chapters

Masterlist

Headcanons

Alethaine (High Elf/Necromancer) - age 25. Astarion's daughter. Lawful Neutral.

Ulsha (Half-Orc/Paladin) - age 26. Lawful Good.

Theris (Tiefling/Bard) - age 27. Chaotic Neutral.

Mierni (Human/Wizard)- age 14, Gale's foster son. Suffers with selective muteness. True neutral.

Alethaine jumps on the floor and faces the owner of the tower.

The archwizard of Waterdeep, Gale Decarios, is standing in front of her with the tressym in his hands. 

“I suppose you are Alethaine Ancunin, my friend’s daughter? – He asks. – And who is this young man with you? Sorry if I've assumed his gender or age incorrectly.”

“This is Theris. I am afraid he has some prejudices against wizards”

“I don’t blame him, to be honest. If I weren't a wizard myself, I would be biased towards them, too, – He smiles wide. – I am happy to welcome you to my home, Alethaine – and finally talk to you. Last time your father visited he didn’t shut up about you”

“Oh?” Alethaine suddenly feels a wave of embarrassment. “Did he?”

“Of course! You see, I've recently gotten an interest in dhampirs, and as a man of science I couldn’t ignore the opportunity to obtain new knowledge first hand, – Gale shrugs, showing his unexpected guests the way out of the library. – Well, technically, second hand, since I interrogated your father about it. I must admit I used to think it’s not possible to manifest dhampir abilities at the age of five months old! But Astarion was very proud when I told him you are that peculiar. But I also would love to hear certain details from you directly. Both of you.”

Theris tries to hide behind Alethaine’s back which falls flat due to the height difference. 

“I will not let you vivisect me! I will fight!”

Alethaine thinks Gale will be offended but instead, the old wizard laughs.

“You probably mistake me for someone else, Theris. I prefer arcana and theory, not butchering young… dhampirs. I welcome you to my home, feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Yes, you have nothing to worry about, children,” Tara yawns. 

An hour later, Alethaine sits in the hot tub. The warm water relaxes her muscles and feet.

It feels nice.

Sharpened hearing catches the distant echo of the conversation. Gale interrogates Theris – how old was he when his dhampirism manifested? Were his parents tieflings? Does he drink blood? Does he know other dhampirs? Has he ever been to the Underdark?

Five years old. Mother was a tiefling. Sometimes he drinks blood but he feels bad after. No, physically. The bard has no morals! He knows Ulsha the Half-Orc. No, devils save him!

Alethaine submerges herself under the water. She doesn’t need breathing, and she curls in the fetal position on the bottom of the tub, allowing the water to cover her body like a blanket.

If she closes her eyes she can imagine it’s her home in Daggerlake.

Alethaine could lie like that for hours before the water turned uncomfortably cold and she had to get out of there. Water deafened her sharpened dhampir hearing, and she could relax in silence.

Suddenly Alethaine realizes there is someone else in the house.

She can hear Gale and Theris from below and Alethaine is also aware of Tara’s presence in the hall.

The tressym hisses, and the dhampir hears someone else’s embarrassed footsteps.

“My dear, I didn’t know we were hosting a Sea Elf!” Tara jumps on the edge of the bathtub. “Well, maybe your mother’s father was one of them? Though Tiriel never struck to me as a water lover.”

Alethaine sits up and wet hair sticks to her face. “I don’t need to breathe, that’s all”

“I know, I know. You, dhampirs, are peculiar creatures! Who knew saving seven thousand vampires could lead to such a drastic change in the Swords Coast demographics?”

“Is that sarcasm?” Alethaine gets out of the bathtub and puts a towel on her head. Her waist-length silver hair will take an eternity to fully dry. 

“Maybe! But you know… vampires or not, they were still thinking creatures. Your mother is a true hero for saving all of them!” Tara jumps on the chair and Alethaine sees a dress and a bathrobe which were not there when she entered the bathroom. 

Tara disappears, and Alethaine puts up the clean clothes. The dress is nice, probably made of much finer fabric than the dhampir has ever worn. The robe is fluffy and warm and Alethaine has a glimpse of a thought to steal it once she is ready to go.

Though stealing from a wizard is probably a bad idea.

When she goes down to the dining room, Theris is already there devouring an enormous plate of food. Gale looks absolutely unbothered – more than this, he looks like a scientist observing a specimen.

“Alethaine, sit down with us!” Gale waves at the empty chair in front of him. “Hope the food will be to your liking”

Alethaine stares at the plates. Well, either Gale has a very good cook somewhere in the tower, or the wizard himself spends his free time in the kitchen.

Everything looks fucking delicious.

Alethaine decides she has never had table manners and probably never will and starts eating in an even messier manner than Theris.

“If you don’t like it, just tell me,” Gale smiles.

“Honestly, sir, my father is a vampire, my mother can eat raw meat, and I’ve been adventuring for six years. I have very low standards,'' Alethaine answers with her mouth full. “If it hasn't burnt, I can eat it. And if it’s burnt, I can give it a try.”

“I was the camp cook back in the day. Your mother really had weird habits even in comparison to the rest. Well, she wasn’t from the Sword Coast, after all”

Suddenly Gale’s gaze becomes dreamy. He looks left and smiles, remembering something.

“Your parents…” he suddenly says. “They are… still together?”

“Of course. They moved to Luskan a few years ago”

“Not far away! I think I should pay a visit. Besides, I haven’t seen Tiriel for, let me think, 45 years. But I bet she hasn’t changed much”

Theris suddenly elbows Alethaine. “It seems like the wizard had a thing for your mother”

“What? No!” Alethaine probably responded much louder than she intended because suddenly Gale stares at her as if trying to see familiar features in her face. 

“Oh yes, you mother… Well, I actually thought I would be in charge since, of course, I was the most competent of the whole gang! Me, a renowned wizard! Who else? – Gale chuckles.But you know sometimes you should let people do what they are fit at.

He is silent for a few seconds.

“Tiriel led us all through the pain, fear, and misery. Saved us all! Told me she would break all my bones if I tried to recreate the crown of Karsus and, hells, she was right – it’s not the power a man should obtain, – Gale looks away, reminiscing. – She made the Duke of Ravengard beg his only son for forgiveness… Dragged poor Shadowheart from the cult. Tiriel… She is one of these people who couldn’t care less about power, but she made us all fight for our personal freedoms. Me, your father, the rest of us.” 

Gale chuckles.

“Well, Tiriel could have become the leader of Baldur’s Gate – people would love her. But she preferred to stay on the road, to do things she liked. Well sometimes I think what could have been…–Gale sigs. – But, honestly, your mother would have been bored in Waterdeep''.

Alethaine stares at Gale. So he did have a thing for her mother. That is definitely something new.

Gale notices that and smiles.

“Well, I will be honest here. Tirie caught all my attention. I made a mistake thinking that her friendliness and kindness were a sign of romantic interest. Tiriel was just kind to everyone, I wasn’t special. And when I finally got a grip and wanted to talk to her, she was already in your father’s tent, – he smiles bitterly. – Never thought  I would be jealous of a vampire. But six months after I met your mother for the last time I saw how happy she was. How happy Astarion was with her. He was literally a different person. And, to be honest, he deserved it. After everything he’d been through.”

Alethaine looks at her plate. Her mother and that wizard? She can’t imagine that. 

Suddenly she hears light footsteps. 

“Mierni! Come here, say hello to Theris and Alethaine!”

A fourteen-year-old boy with dark skin and protruding ears enters the dining room. He wears a pair of trousers and a white shirt but his feet are bare.

Tara immediately rushes to him and starts bumping her head on his leg.

“Mierni, darling, put on your shoes – it’s rather cold here!”

Mierni shakes his head and approaches the table. His dark skin is rather pale as if he’d been dead for a few hours. Two fangs are visible on his lips. 

Another dhampir!

The boy quickly grabs a meat pie and rushes up to the wall. In a few moments, he sits in a dark corner of the ceiling like a huge bat.

“Don’t be offended,” Gale says. “This is Mierni. He is a good boy, he just sometimes doesn't want to speak. But very talented! Can cast fireballs like a battle mage!”

“Mierni is going to be a fine addition to the Decarios clan!” Tara adds. 

“Is he your son?” Alethaine asks. 

“Yes and no,'' Gale sighs. “His mother is a storm sorcerer. She'd gotten it into her head that if she had a child with a vampire, he'd be the most powerful wizard in the world. She'd found an undead somewhere, more an animal than human, one of those poor things that had gone mad over centuries of captivity in Cazador's dungeon, – he makes a sip from his glass. – Unluckily, Mierni had no special innate abilities other than dhampirism. I'll spare you the details, but this child was mistreated poorly. Beaten, starved. I found Miernilocked in the attic, and he'd never seen sunlight before.”

“So we kidnapped him,” Tara says.

“I prefer the word adopted,” Gale corrected. “Mierni is very smart! And knows many more spells than I did at his age, Though, unfortunately, you need to be able to speak to pronounce the spells – and it’s an issue”

Alethaine looks up at the ceiling. Mierni turns his head and casts a wary glance at her. Human-dhampir probably doesn’t see a lot of people.

“Is he mute?” Alethaine asks.

“From time to time. Maybe he will want to talk to you, though.”

Alethaine stands up from the table and walks up the wall to sit close to the boy.

“My name is Alethaine Ancunin. And you are Mierni, aren’t you?”

He nods.

“What are you reading?”

He points at the hardcover. “Crests, flags, and banners of the Moon sea. Interesting?”

another nod.

“THERIS!” 

A loud scream forces Alethaine to stir and she almost falls down from the ceiling. Mierni jumps on his feet pressing the book to his chest.

“Sir, whatever lies she is going to say, it’s not true, it wasn't me and it never happened!”

Standing in the doorway, a half-orc paladin is fuming.

“Ulsha” Gale approaches her. “Please, calm down.”

“I won't! Gale, I am sorry, but he is dangerous!” 

“But he is my guest. It would not be nice of me to betray people I shelter”

“He’s a dhampir”

“So what? Since when did you dhampir have fewer rights?”

Ulsha looks up at the ceiling, and Mierni immediately jumps on the floor.

“Ulsha! I am so happy to see you!” he rushes to her, and the half-orc hugs him.

“I am happy to see you, little wizard.” 

“I’ve finished the book you brought me!” Mierni shows her the heavy volume. 

Alethaine jumps back on the floor. Theris stands behind her using her as a shield and Black Death squeaks. 

“Don’t give me to her,” he whispers.

“Ulsha,” Gale invites her to the table. “I am aware Theris is a notorious troublemaker, but he and Alethaine retrieved Tara from smugglers. I suppose it’s enough”

“You don't understand!”

“I think I do, Ulsha,” Gale’s voice sounds more stern, “Please. Can I ask what brought you here?”

“it’s personal”

“Not a problem, Mierni, show Theris and Alethaine the library.”

Mierni nods and grabs their hands.

The boy doesn’t shut up the whole way up to the library. By the time they reach the room, he suddenly realizes Theris is a tiefling and he starts asking to touch his tail and his horns and also asking what it is to be a tiefling. 

Then he switches his attention to Alethaine - mostly to her ears, so different from his own. 

For some reason, it doesn't annoy her. The boy is so innocent, so open-hearted that Alethaine decides she is going to kill anyone who would threaten him.

“You are a necromancer!” he exclaims. “I wanted to learn necromancy, but my father told me I shouldn't indulge in such dark sciences! Can you animate something dead?!”

‘Well, to animate something dead, you need to kill something first,” Theris chuckles.

Mierni rushes to the dark corner of the library and proudly brings a dead mouse. The animal has probably been dead for a few days.

Theris closes the rat’s eyes. “Don’t watch, my friend.”

Mierni places the dead rat on the floor and steps back.

“Please! Please!” Now Mierni sounds like a five-year-old who has found a new toy.

Alethain sighs and kneels in front of the tiny corpse. 

Dark strings pierce through the tips of her fingers and connect to the body.

The dead mouse opens its eyes.

Alethaine feels the strings tense. Now the animal is all in her power.

“Climb his shoulder,” Alethaine orders and the dead mouse climbs onto Theris. 

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Theris hisses still covering his living rat’s eyes.

Mierni laughs and picks up the dead mouse. “Can you teach me? I want to know necromancy!”

“I think Gale will kill me,” Alethaine smiles. 

“He won’t!”

“No, Gale, I am not doing this!” Ulsha enters the library. Gale follows her. “I am not going to work with that… thing”

Theris bares his fangs almost indistinguishable from his tiefling canines. “Are you pointing at me or the elf?”

“Answer your own question.”

Theris shrugs. “Aletahaine, I’d be really offended if someone called me a thing”

“Shut up”

Ulsha shakes her head. “No. I told you it wouldn’t work”

“What is the problem?” Alethaine asks, putting the mouse to rest. The small body stills and Alethaine catches a pleasant scent of decay.

She still isn't sure if decay smells nice to her because she was born half-dead or because of her sorcerer's nature.

“You see, Alethaine, ever since Ulsha left the Underdark where she grew up among the vampire spawns, she’s wandered the Sword Coast, saving the less fortunate from their peril, true to her oath to - “

“Of devotion,” she finished. “I serve Lathander, the Morninglord.”

‘Morninglord? Is she insane?’ Alethaine wonders. The god hates the undead so much that he demands the slaughter of vampires and other creatures of the night.

“What’s so funny, elf?” Ulsha asks.

“Listen, I am not a woman of spiritual nature,” Alethaine explains. “But couldn’t you choose a god that doesn’t despise you for your mere existence?”

“He doesn't despise anyone,” she says sternly. “We, dhampirs, have a choice of which side to take. And I’ve chosen the light the moment I left the disgusting tunnels of the Underdark. But everyone makes their own choices,” Ulsha pushes the dead mouse away with her leg. “Some prefer to enforce their vampiric side. Bloodrinking and death worship.”

“I do none of that,” Alethaine comes close to the half-orc.

Gale takes Ulsha’s hand and offers her a seat. The half-orc obliges, but Alethaine physically senses the hostility coming from her. 

“Returning to our matters,” Gale smiles. “It's difficult to be a sole adventurer – and people get suspicious when Ulsha spends too much time with them. Folks just don’t see a difference between a vampire and a dhampir and very few of them want to educate themselves.”

“So?” Theris gets impatient. He drums his fingers and frowns.

“I think you would work perfectly together.”

“I am not going anywhere with her,” Theris says.

But Gale doesn’t listen to him.

He keeps talking about some spellbook of old that was lost without a trace centuries ago. And he thinks he knows the exact location of the volume, and he doesn’t trust anyone but Ulsha to retrieve it.

“Ulsha’s oath forbids her from using dark magic. Besides, the Bowgentle of Silverymoon’s spellbook doesn’t lie in the open. You will need to break into the lair. I will pay you generously, each of you.”

“How much?” Alethaine asks, doing mental math. Gale definitely isn’t poor and retrieving a book of magic doesn’t sound simple. Besides, a wizard spellbook must be worth a fortune.

Gale chuckles. “I see you take after your father. Your mother would agree first. 150 gold for each of you. Yes, including you Ulsha.I doubt Lathander would want his paladin to die in poverty.”

“200,” Theris says. “The task is rather dangerous.”

“150, Theris, you are not the first adventurer I have to deal with.”

“Let me,” Alethaine approaches Gale. “ 250. You know we can always sell the spellbook.”

“No one will buy it.”

“Don’t underestimate my intimidation skills,” Alethaine bares her fangs.

Gale cringes. “Two hundred and twenty gold.”

“Agreed, and we take all the treasures we find.”

“I doubt you would know how to use all these artifacts, Alethaine,” Gale smiles behind his beard.

“Oh, trust me! I am full of secrets!”

… Hours later, when Alethaine stands in front of a stall with weapons, choosing between a longbow and a short sword, she laughs at herself for tryingto get more money from the wizard.

Well, she was taught not to sell herself too short.

“Do you know how to shoot arrows?” Ulsha asks as she prepares her armor.

“If I am an elf it doesn't mean I am an archer.”

“But do you?”

“Yes. I am an archer.”

“Great. Then you are in the back. Avoid getting in the middle of the fight, that’s my job. Do you know any healing spells?”

“I am a necromancer. It’s the opposite of healing.”

Theris switches the daggers from the stall. '`Wait, are you going to allow Ulsha to be in charge?!’

“She is a fucking paladin!” Alethaine takes the bow and the arrows. “Of course, she is going to be in charge and take all the blame if we fuck up. And we will fuck up.”

Gale places healing potions at the stall. “It’s very mature of you to understand there is sometimes just a much more competent person in the team than yourself. It took me days to finally put trust in your mother but I never doubted her choices after. So, maybe, we should have left Duke Ravengard to suffocate in his prison.”

Mierni, dressed in his traveling clothes, takes Gale’s hand. “I don’t want to go.”

Gale pats the boy’s head. “Mierni, you need to see the world outside my tower. Besides, even though you are mostly human like I, you are still a dhampir and you should be with your own kind to figure things out for yourself. Besides, what would a wizard do without their own stories about adventures?”

“But I like it here!” he pouts. 

Alethaine looks at the wizards. Yes, they are more like father and son rather than one wizard and apprentice. Besides, he is only fourteen! When Alethane was fourteen she was afraid to go to the nearest village on her own and found a dozen excuses to stay home. She can’t imagine becoming an adventurer that young.

Besides, her own parents wouldn’t have let her go, that's for sure.

“It’s your home, Mierni, and you are always welcome to come back. But I don’t want you to waste your youth in the company of an old man.”

“Yes, Mierni,” Theris tugs the boy to himself. “You can waste your youth in the company of a necromancer and a delinquent bard.”

…They leave the city at night. Ulsha is in the front with her shield and a longsword,  The paladin armors make her look much bigger than she already is. Mierni, who probably has never left Waterdeep on his own, whirls his head like a five-year-old on the market square. 

“How the hell did you manage to persuade him to pay us more?” Theris asks as they walk along the Long Road in the direction of Amphail. 

“Hm, two options. My own charms or he has flashbacks of having to deal with Astarion Ancunin,” Alethaine shrugs. The night makes her feel better - after all, she is a creature of the night as well.

--

--

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#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #dadstarion #aletha #alethaine ancunin #dhampir #waterdeep #dhampirs of the sword's coast #meet the dhampirs #baldur's gate post game #dungeons and dragons #forgotten realms #necromancy #dhampirs of the swords coast #gale dekarios #tara the tressym #dnd dhampir #dhampirs

[fortheloveoffanfic]

The Holiday Arrangement

Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: When co-parenting during the holidays becomes difficult to navigate, Y/n brings a proposal to her ex-husband, Andy; spend Christmas together- for the sake of their daughter. Their already complicated arrangement becomes even more messy new memories dredge up buried feelings. Masterlists Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Y/n and Andy talk for the first time after their last fight and he offers to revisit the idea of a shared Christmas. Warnings: Angst

Wednesday It was the last day of the year in the court calendar and instead of thinking about his cases, Andy was thinking of his fight with Y/n. Since he’d left her place- formerly their place- on Sunday night, it was the only thing he could spend longer than fifteen minutes mulling over. Things had gotten out of hand, he’d said some stuff that he desperately wished he could take back; they’d never had such a vicious fight. They’d never been so outwardly venomous and while the disagreement had started about what was best for Grace, in the end, it had been reduced to their own qualms with each other.

Or maybe it was never about Grace- that thought made him feel worse. Their daughter was supposed to come first, always, and their grievances shouldn’t get in the way of giving her the best childhood they could.  

But that was exactly what he was doing in turning down Y/n’s offer- letting his own hurt from something as trivial as an outing get in the way of making memories his daughter could treasure forever. 

His second chance- technically his third- and Andy was blowing it. Maybe he should just do it, after all beneath the anger, he was actually quite fond of the idea. A few weeks of happiness, their family returning to some semblance of what it used to be- he could see Grace, and Y/n, everyday. He missed that. 

With a heavy sigh, dumped his laptop bag on the small sofa in his office upon entry. After he’d shut the door behind himself, Andy shed his long coat too and then moved to fish his phone out of the inner pocket in his navy suit coat. As he sank into the plush, leather upholstered chair behind his sleek glass desk, Andy unlocked the screen and pulled up Y/n’s number, initially intent on calling her but then quickly deciding that he should test the waters with text instead. 

“Hey. Just wanted to apologize for last night.”  

Then he sent another; “Can we talk when I come over to pick up Gracey?”   

“Please.” 

Andy stared at the screen for a while, willing her to reply. Though when he determined that Y/n was probably still at work herself, he sighed and set the phone down, planted his elbows on the cool surface and pressed his palms to his face. Half from tiredness and half in frustration with himself. “Ugh,” he groaned, scrubbing his hands over his eyes before banging in fists on the table, the vibration almost muting the sound that his phone made, signaling that a text had come in. 

“Sure. I’ll be home by 7. You can stay with her until I get back.” 

There was a distinct coldness in her response, but Andy was just grateful that she hadn’t turned down his request to meet. Hastily, his fingers scrambled to concoct a response; “7 is great! See you later.”

Y/n’s response maintained the apathy of her first one, “Yeah, later,” but Andy was too relieved to care; at least she was giving him a chance to make things right.

That evening The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous she felt about her latest fight with Andy. She’d been the one to press on the issue of having separate Christmases- he’d initially wanted a shared Christmas dinner but she’d been in staunch disagreement- and now, she was the one that wanted a joint holiday. It was confusing and selfish, in retrospect, Y/n could admit that much. 

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still a little mad at Andy, mostly for accusing her of being pointlessly angry towards the end of their marriage. Of course she’d been angry but it was within reason; he’d stopped putting any effort into their relationship and had become the designated ‘cool, fun dad’ while she was left out in the cold to be the ‘eat your vegetables’ mom. Watching him come home late after work and swoop in at bedtime, after she’d done the bulk of the tough work had been frustrating, and having him shut her out emotionally only compounded her irritation. It was like he’d built a wall between them, and every one of her efforts to get past it had felt like throwing pebbles at a boulder. 

Still, she’d obliged his request to meet, offering to have him relieve the sitter and stay at the house with Grace until she got in from work. 

As expected, when Y/n had pulled into the driveway, Andy’s car was already parked along the curb and white flecks had started gathering on the charcoal gray body. With a sigh, she drove a little further up, into the garage, parked, shut the engine off and then gathered her things before getting out. Making slow work of it, Y/n engaged the alarm then entered through the side door that opened to a section of the hallway that was closer to the kitchen than the front door.

“Bunny?” She called out, stepping inside, heeled boots clicking loudly on the hard wood as she peeled off her leather gloves. After setting her bag on the kitchen counter, Y/n shrugged off her long, camel coat to reveal the black, tea length sweater dress underneath. 

“Mommy!” Within mere seconds of calling out to her, Grace came barreling down the stairs, all dolled up in her favorite princess dress, with a colourful, plastic tiara to match, “You’re home!” Grace ran straight into her, and Y/n was able to bend just in time to scoop Grace up on her hip. 

“I’m home! How was your day? Did you have fun with Michelle?” She peered with enthusiasm. 

Grace nodded vigorously, “She made mac and cheese for lunch and we coloured until daddy came home.” Came home; Y/n didn’t miss the way Grace said it, as if nothing had changed and having her father come- and stay- after work was still part of the norm. 

“Yeah?” Grace nodded again, missing the way Y/n’s smile faltered, “Uh,” she sniffled, “Where is your daddy?”

“I’m coming!” She heard his voice emanating from the stairs before he appeared on the landing; sleeves rolled up, jacket and tie missing. It wasn’t easy to miss how good he looked, the man could make a button-up look tailor made. "You left me in the dust, Gracey," he chuckled.

"You walk so slow daddy,” she returned dramatically, and when she stretched her legs downwards, Y/n set Grace down. 

“Slowly,” they both corrected in unison, glancing at each other with faint smiles for a brief moment, almost as if they’d forgotten the tension that was supposed to exist between them. 

“Why don’t you go put your toys away kiddo?” Andy suggested with a heavy breath, smile fading. The tips of his fingers tapped Grace’s head as she whizzed by him, and when they were left alone, he began heavily, “I’m sorry…..about everything I said Sunday night. And the way I said it.”

Y/n dropped her shoulder and bent her head slightly, “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have said….any of that.”

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Andy shrugged, “I shouldn't have either,” he paused for a minute, “Can we talk about….what you suggested. Christmas together?”

Y/n waved her hand dismissively, “Oh,” her cheeks heated up, “It was a stupid idea-”

“No it wasn’t, but I was being a jerk and you were putting Grace first, the way you always do,” not wanting to tell Andy that there’d been a selfish component to her request, she let him continue. “She needs the best that we can offer, and maybe showing her that we can put our differences aside and come together to give her what she wants is what’s best for her right now.”

Shocked, Y/n’s breath hitched. She didn’t know what she was expecting but Andy’s response had been a complete- and pleasant- surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he offered without hesitation, “So, how would we do it? I mean…..my vacation starts today, and my time with Gracey also starts today-”

Somehow, she’d completely forgotten about their custody arrangement and even if it shouldn’t, it seriously complicated things in her mind. Would he still want his time alone with Grace? Would their ‘joint Christmas’ temporarily render their agreement effective? Y/n wished she’d thought of the specifics before bringing it up. “And my office closes for the year on Friday, but you’re supposed to bring her back this weekend.”

“Right,” Andy determined, chewing on his lower lip as he cast his head down. He scoffed a dry chuckle, “I just don’t understand how this works,” he rubbed the back of his neck wearily. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think it through….” Y/n trailed off, before adding hesitantly, “Its supposed to be like we’re still married…..without being married,” she licked her lips and fixed her gaze on Andy, just as he lifted his head to meet her eyes, “So why don’t you just come home-here. Why don’t you just stay here?” She reaffirmed, trying to shake off the fact that she’d made the same mistake Grace had- except, she wasn’t five years old and completely understood the gravity that one word could carry. 

There was a look in Andy’s eyes that suggested that they might not have been making the best decision; it was the same one he’d worn when he’d left almost a year ago. There was pain in them, she could have sworn that  he thought looking at her hurt. “Yeah, okay,” he eventually agreed, bending his head again and sniffing softly, “I’ll stay here,” he said the word with such emphasis that it threatened to break her heart all over again, “Until…after Christmas, I guess.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Y/n reasoned, suddenly feeling guilty about not considering that  him coming back might actually be painful. She’d never asked him to leave, but after their separation, it had been the natural course of things; Andy had left when she’d served him the papers, he didn’t want her to be the one going through the trouble of house shopping, and then when the proceedings had gone before a judge, she’d been granted their marital home in the settlement after a very civil fight. 

He was doing it again that evening- surrendering to what she wanted.   

“No, its okay. You want it, Gracey wants it,” he shrugged in differently, “So I want it.” 

“You always want what I want,” Y/n noted softly, not knowing if she should reach out or keep her distance. 

“Because I want you to be happy. And I want her to be happy,” he sniffled again, and even if his face was turned away slightly, Y/n could tell his eyes were glassy. But Andy wasn’t the type to cry in front of anyone; she’d only ever seen him shed a couple tears once, after Grace had been born, and even then, it had been in private- he’d taken Grace out of her cot just as warm rays had started splitting the horizon on the morning they were supposed to be discharged from the hospital and he’d thought she was still asleep. 

Y/n let out a heavy breath and frowned deeply; he always credited her with putting Grace first without ever acknowledging that he faultlessly did the same. And he put her first too, even if he didn’t need to. “Even if it means you’re not happy?” 

Andy passed a large hand over his mouth and chin, shaking his head before turning back to her, “I don’t know how to be happy unless the two of you are happy. And I know your fucking books will probably have a lot to say about that,” he joked with a chuckle and Y/n smiled despite the tension of the moment. “I should probably go,” he determined after a moment of silence. 

“You’re supposed to take Grace tonight,” Y/n reminded before he started walking off. 

“Right,” Andy paused, running a hand through his hair. When he turned to look at her, still wearing his beaten expression, she frowned and he licked his lips, “Let me just-”

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? And then….leave her here since you’re gonna be over tomorrow anyway.” She didn’t want him to leave like that, not when he looked so forlorn and he’d just admitted to hinging his happiness onto hers and Grace’s. Not when the thought of him being alone with his thoughts made her worry- he was always so hard on himself. 

Andy shook his head dismissively, “You know….I’m not hungry,” he cast his head down and they remained like that for a handful of seconds more before he retreated to where he’d draped his suit jacket and thick long coat on the back of a chair at the dining table. Shrugging them both on, he sighed heavily, “I’m gonna go kiss Gracey goodnight, then I’ll be outta your hair.”

Still reluctant to let him depart, Y/n protested, “Andy-”

“Its okay,” he promised, gesturing passively with his right hand while the left was stuffed into his pocket, “I’m alright.”’

Frowning, Y/n watched as he went up the stairs. A heavy breath seeped off her lips and when Andy reached the top, she turned and headed to the kitchen so she could rummage through a drawer where she kept takeout menus- she wasn’t in the mood to cook and Grace would probably light up at the prospect of pizza.

When Andy announced his departure, they exchanged awkward goodbyes, and upon hearing the front door open and shut, Y/n sighed and let the trio of flimsy menus she been holding fall and scatter in the drawer. She wasn’t supposed to feel that low but didn’t think it was possible for her to feel otherwise when he was so obviously upset. She hated the thought of hurting him anymore than she already had, but Y/n knew Andy well enough to know that there was no getting him to back out now; he was a man of his word, and the only way he'd give up on their agreement of a joint Christmas was if she decided against it. 

But she couldn’t-not after they’d fought about it. Not when it was exactly what their daughter wanted. 

And so, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t being entirely selfish in her adamance, Y/n collected one of the menus again and reached for her phone, hoping that getting busy would take her mind off the whole thing for a while. 

Friday Going back to the house they used to share while thinking about their current state always hurt a little, but temporarily moving back into the guest room he’d occupied before moving out months ago felt like a chisel was chipping away shards of his heart. All their good memories were in that house, but all the grief he’d shed over their failed marriage was in that room. 

Twice, he’d tried to be the best husband he could be, twice he’d let down the women who’d given his life some reason. 

Laurie had taken in a man who’d felt like a stranger to the world around him and given him a family. He wasn’t expecting to meet anyone after he’d lost that family, but a few years after Jacob and Laurie’s passing, he’d met Y/n at a coffee shop they both frequented; she’d just moved into town for a job, leaving behind a big city life. Y/n hadn’t known very much about his history and had only read about Jacob’s case in passing a couple times- for the first time in a damn long time it hadn’t felt like he was being put under a microscope. She wasn’t poking around for details and there weren’t any strange looks when he talked about his family.

Starting over with her had been like starting a new painting on a blank canvas. Andy was determined to not blow it that time.

But at some point, he had- he spilt oil paint all over their watercolor. 

His only relief through the whole thing was getting to spend everyday with Grace and Y/n again. Even if he went to sleep in the very impersonal room with a cold pillow as his only company, Andy got to have breakfast with them every morning, spend the day with his daughter and then have dinner with his family. Despite him and Y/n still being caught up in a kind of awkwardness that hadn’t existed when they were still married, they were cordial and he liked being able to see her everyday- if he closed his eyes and tried enough, he could pretend she was still his wife. 

He wished she was still his wife- if Andy could go back in time, he’d change everything that led up to the minute she put those papers in front of him. 

Maybe he’d still be living there and they’d be happily married. Maybe they were always destined to fail and he just wasn’t meant to have that kind of relationship. 

Maybe he hadn’t ever deserved her love- or Laurie’s.  He didn’t like that thought. 

“Everything okay?” A hand on his shoulder beckoned Andy from his reverie and shaking his head, he turned slightly and glanced up at Y/n, who’d come to stand behind where he was sitting on the sofa while nursing a beer. They’d put Grace to bed- together- about an hour earlier and because he’d made dinner, Y/n had insisted that she be the one to clean up. It was an old house rule that they'd established after they’d first moved in together; if one cooked, the other would clean. 

“Yeah,” he shook his head, taking a lengthy swing of his beer. After everything that had happened over the past two weeks, the last thing he wanted to do was disclose what he’d been thinking and start another fight. When Y/n frowned, he patted her hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

She sighed, moving around the sofa to sink down against the furthest upholstered arm, glass of white wine in hand. “You know,” she took a quick, punctuating sip from her glass, “I never understand why your feelings have to be some kind of big secret. Its not a threat to your masculinity if you open up to someone that cares about you.”

“I don’t think its a threat to my-” Furrowing his brows defensively, Andy shook his head, “I don’t wanna fight about this,” he said placatingly. 

Y/n shifted to tuck her legs under her and returned calmly, “Neither do I. But I hate when you’re obviously going through something and you won’t let me in when all I wanna do is help and show you that I'm here for you,” she reached out, touching his knee. 

Trying to deflect, Andy let a breath seep from his lips, “So you still care about me, huh?” He smirked and Y/n rolled her eyes, shaking her head. 

“Of course I still care about you; you’re the father of my child,” as she said it, Y/n retracted her hand and took another sip of her wine. Shifting his gaze her way for a moment, Andy studied the way she looked like that; so effortlessly beautiful, exactly like the woman he’d fallen in love with close to ten years ago- yet so different. She’d been younger then, and while she was still quite a bit younger than him, there was a kind of maturity that could only come with being a parent. 

Or perhaps it was because in that moment, Andy realized that he was one of the few in the world that was privileged to really know her. He knew how deeply she cared and loved, how fierce she could be, how remarkably intelligent she was and how absolutely gracious she was about it. He’d been lucky enough to fall in love with her, he was lucky enough to have his life forever tethered to hers. Perhaps that was what he was seeing that night.

“And you’re the mother of mine,” he noted absently, allowing the weight of her words to sink down on him; for all that he loved her, he wasn’t her husband anymore and it wasn’t his place to sit in her living room and feel sorry for himself- he was the father of their child that was the line. 

“That’s kind of how it works,” she responded, bemused. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” 

Turning away to look down at his bottle, propped on his thigh, Andy pondered for a moment; opening up was so foreign to him, he didn’t think he could begin to articulate his thoughts in a way that even he could understand. “I don’t know how.” 

Through his periphery, he saw Y/n shrugging, “You just….say what’s on your mind. And be honest.”

“Honestly?” He chuckled dryly and she nodded. Taking another swing of his beer, Andy sighed heavily, “I’m…I love being here, with you and Gracey- you two are my favorite people,” he smiled bashfully, “You two are also my only friends, so when I’m here, its like I have everything again,” Andy paused, working up the nerve to continue. “Then I remember that I don’t; you’re not my wife anymore and when Christmas is over I’m gonna go back to only seeing her for half of the week.”

Her lips quivered and Y/n seemed stunned by his words, “Andy, I-”   

“Mommy?” A fine voice emanating from behind them called Andy and Y/n’s attention.    

“Hey Bunny,” Y/n turned, leaned up a little to peer over the back of the sofa, “What’re you doing up?” 

Rubbing her tired eyes, Grace, armed with her stuffed bear, shuffled around the sofa to clumsily clamor into Y/n’s lap, and before she could accidentally spill the remainder of her wine, Andy reached over and relieved her of the glass, setting it, along with his bottle, down on the coffee table. “What’s up, kiddo?” He leaned over, rubbing her back soothing as she burrowed against Y/n’s chest, “Bad dream?” Sniffling, Grace nodded.

Y/n frowned, bending to kiss the top of their daughter’s head, “Do you wanna tell us what happened?” 

“There was a monster and you wouldn’t come,” Grace suddenly turned to Andy accusingly, big blue eyes shining with fresh tears, “Not you or mommy or anyone! I was all alone!” She rubbed her eyes and while Y/n tightened her affectionate squeeze, Andy scooted closer so he could properly drape his arm across her small body, joining in on their hug. 

“Hey,” he bent his head awkwardly to meet her eyes, “I would never, ever let any monsters get you. And neither would mommy.”      

“Promise?” Grace sniffled.    

“Promise,” he and Y/n said in unison. “We would do anything to protect you Gracey,” Y/n added. 

It took a while, but eventually, they got her to settle down and when the tears finally stopped and her eyes grew sleepy again, Y/n asked if she was ready to get back upstairs, and Grace only agreed under the condition that Andy check under her bed and in her closet to make sure there weren’t any monsters- of course, he obliged. 

Grace clung to her mother as the three of them headed up stairs, her head laid on Y/n’s shoulder while her little arms were wound around her neck. When they reached her room, Andy went in first, flicking on the light, inadvertently muting the gentle, yellow glow of Grace’s unicorn night light. As he had dozens of times before, Andy lifted the duvet so he could have a peek under the bed, then in the closet. 

“All clear!” Andy declared after his sweep of the room, and Y/n took her over to the bed where they both tucked her in.

“Can you stay, please?” She looked between them, and after a shared look, Y/n and Andy squeezed into the twin bed. Instinctively as he clamored in on Grace’s left, he draped his hand across the top of her pillow- and consequently, Y/n’ shoulders. She didn’t seem to notice, though when she draped her arm across the top of Grace’s fluffy, powder blue duvet tucked under her arms, Y/n’s hand unconsciously landed on his mid- not that he was complaining. 

They laid like that for a while, until Grace finally fell asleep. Andy had been close to dozing off himself, but he caught it just in time and upon finding that his daughter had finally succumbed to slumber. He inched out of the small bed before creeping around to the other side to gently shake Y/n awake. “She’s asleep,” he whispered when her eyes cracked open.

“Finally,” Y/n smiled warmly, shuffling out from next to Grace with the same ease he’d used.  After they’d both pressed light pecks to her forehead, they toed out of the room. He turned off the overhead light, allowing the nightlight to illuminate the immediate area around her nightstand.

Leaving the door open just a crack, he followed Y/n a little way down the hall and paused when she neared the guest room door. “You look tired,” she noted. 

“And you are perpetually beautiful,” he returned, tone teasing but sentiment genuine. She rolled her sleepy eyes, but the heat in her cheeks was obvious. 

Licking her lips, she shook her head, “Dusting off your lines Counselor?” There was something in her jest, but after he quickly remembered their kiss from a few days earlier and how it ended, Andy decided that he probably should quit while he was ahead. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he ducked his head bashfully, “It’s just…..you’re beautiful- its an observation,” he shrugged with one shoulder before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans and stepping backwards to lean against the wall. 

Her smile faltered, but he couldn’t be sure of it because the slip was so temporary that it almost hadn’t happened. She was quiet for a minute, and Andy suspected that it was because she didn’t know how to respond, though, before he could say goodnight, Y/n spoke up again. “You didn’t get to finish, I think,” when he flashed her a curious look, she elaborated, folding her sweater clad arms around herself as she did, “When we were talking downstairs. I don’t think you finished.”

Andy swallowed thickly; he didn’t want to go back to their conversation, not when the only way he could think of continuing what he’d been saying was to admit that he still wanted to be with her- and she clearly didn’t want that. “Its alright,” he waved dismissively before reaching to rub the back of his neck, “I’m tired, you’re tired; lets just turn in for the night.”

Y/n frowned and hesitated for a moment before nodding reluctantly, “Alright,” when she moved away from in front of the guest room door, Andy took a couple steps forward, Y/n reached out and affectionately squeezed his bicep, “Well if you ever wanna talk……”

“I know, thanks,” he flashed her a tired soiree, briefly touching the back of her hand before they both pulled away altogether. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

Again, she didn’t respond immediately, opting to let her gaze linger on him for a moment- he couldn’t remember the last time she looked at him like that. “Goodnight, Andy,” she rasped, turning away and walking further down the hall to her room, leaving him to watch her as she left, not even offering him one backwards glance. His heart sank a little lower; it didn’t matter how many little moments they had, they’d still be over. 

Tagging: @royalwritersoftheuniverses @funfickgirl22 @talesofadragon @pono-pura-vida @what-is-your-plan-today @patzammit @mdpplgtz03 @shipheart @marvelmenwhore @itschrismasevans @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @bemysugarbean @wintasssoldier

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #andy barber #andy barber x you #the holiday arrangement #cevans

[youhideastar]

Fit for Purpose Deleted Scenes I: Alternate Version, First Half

Hi all! I have a lot of deleted scenes for Fit for Purpose - I mean A LOT, 10,000 words of deleted scenes, and that's in part because there's a whole other version of the story that I wrote and then mostly trashed: a three-chapter version where the first chapter looks like what Fit For Purpose looks like now, alternating present day and flashbacks; the second chapter retells canon (i.e., goes through WWX's story sequentially in flashback); and the third chapter picks up again in the present day with no flashbacks. I did this because (a) I was really worried readers would find it implausible that this universe's WWX would leave Yunmeng Jiang to defend the Wens and I wanted to show how that would go down and (b) there were some really cool flashback scenes that shed light on the worldbuilding or the characters' relationships that I loved but that didn't fit in the love story that Fit for Purpose was supposed to be all along.

Basically, there were two versions of this story fighting each other--one the love story, one the backstory--and the love story needed to win, and did. Ultimately, I imposed discipline on the story by creating a rule that every flashback had to be about (1) LWJ or (2) sex/romance. I then broke that rule several times 😂, but even trying to abide by the rule helped keep the story focused.

So the first set of deleted scenes I'm going to share is the first half of that alternate version middle chapter: retelling the drama's plot, but in this universe. It's just the first half for now (second half forthcoming) because I don't think you want to read a 5,000-word post 😂 and I'm going to try to keep my commentary on the scenes to a minimum so as not to make this post longer. Other deleted scenes posts are linked in the masterpost. I hope you enjoy!

The flashback chapter began with the Cloud Recesses arc. A pared-down version of this section made it into the posted fic.

When Wei Wuxian is seventeen, Yunmeng Jiang sends a delegation to Cloud Recesses for a year of study.

It gets off to a rough start when Jiejie’s betrothed—her betrothed!—kicks them out of their inn, and Wei Wuxian leaves behind their invitation. But it improves almost immediately when he finds himself dueling on moonlit rooftops and tackling cultivation mysteries with Gusu Lan Sect’s own head disciple: Lan Wangji, the sect’s alpha heir and one of the famed Twin Jades of Gusu Lan.

Lan Wangji is an impressive swordsman, and his cultivation knowledge is both deep and broad. He’s a challenge, a rival – something Wei Wuxian has never had. It’s exhilarating. The Second Jade of Gusu Lan is talented and beautiful, razor-sharp and bright-shining…

But.

But. He’s also such a fucking stick-in-the-mud. It’s not enough that he never has any fun – he doesn’t want anyone else having fun, either. Not even harmless, normal fun like fishing, or drinking, or fighting!

Wei Wuxian turns the problem over in his mind, and concludes that this is a boy who really, really needs to do some ‘practicing for the wedding night.’

Now yes, technically, what alphas and omegas do with Wei Wuxian is against the rules—sex is supposed to be reserved for your mate, and only your mate—and the upright, uptight Lan-er-gongzi is obsessed with his rules. But really. It would be a public service for Wei Wuxian to get that rigid fuddy-duddy well and truly laid, and that’s exactly what he intends to do.

He begins his campaign in the library.

Then you have the library and getting-LWJ-drunk scenes, which made it into the posted fic. Then this:

Anyway, after that, Wei Wuxian tones it down a little. He still tries to make Lan Zhan understand that he’s available – “many benefits to being my friend,” and all that. Still wants to make sure Lan Zhan knows he can come to Wei Wuxian for that, when he needs it. If he needs it. (Still hopes he will, because he stands by his opinion that Lan Zhan could use a tumble, for his own good.)

But he’s not sure anymore that Lan Zhan does need it. Lan Zhan is… weird. He’s prudish and judgmental and obsessed with rules and wound way too tight—Wei Wuxian still isn’t over the part where he turned himself in for drinking even though it was against his will—but Wei Wuxian is starting think that might just be… him. That’s Lan Zhan. And Wei Wuxian…

Well, he likes it. He likes Lan Zhan.

He likes his mean glares, and the way he ruffles like a startled cat when Wei Wuxian provokes him, and how fucking good he is at everything, how he can keep up with Wei Wuxian, and even push him, in a way that Wei Wuxian has never gotten to have and didn’t even realize he was missing. And he likes that Lan Zhan expects a lot of himself. That he holds himself to his sect’s annoying rules, even though he’s a rich, highborn alpha and could probably just coast on his birth and his brother’s reputation.

So. The embarrassing truth is, Wei Wuxian kind of likes Lan Zhan the way he is. Does he think Lan Zhan would be a lot happier if he were getting laid? Absolutely yes, and he’s not giving up on making that happen. But he doesn’t think he needs to fix Lan Zhan by getting him laid. Lan Zhan’s not broken. He’s just weird. And weird, Wei Wuxian decides, is okay.

Weird is, maybe, kind of great. At least when it’s Lan Zhan.

*

The thing with Lan Zhan, though, is that he kind of… makes Wei Wuxian forget. Forget what he’s supposed to be doing, forget what he’s supposed to be. Wei Wuxian’s life has been all about Yunmeng Jiang for so long that having something else—someone else—important in his life makes him—

No. That’s not fair. It’s not Lan Zhan’s fault. Whatever it is, this flaw in Wei Wuxian, this arrogance… it was there from the beginning. In his bones.

*

It starts in Cold Pond Cave: standing side-by-side with Lan Zhan before the great Lan Yi, joined at the wrist by Lan Zhan’s ribbon in a way that would be scandalous, if Wei Wuxian weren’t a beta. If it actually meant anything.

Lan Zhan swears to find and seal the Yin Iron, and Wei Wuxian, standing beside him, bound to him, promises the same.

It doesn’t feel wrong.

It feels amazing. Swearing his allegiance to a goal, a responsibility, a quest – a shared responsibility, him and Lan Zhan, spurred on by chivalry and the common good. It feels like the only thing he can do, when so much is on the line. When the whole cultivation world needs this, needs him.

And then he makes the same mistake at Qixi, side-by-side with Lan Zhan again, watching their shared lantern rise into the sky. He makes a vow.

Not to serve Yunmeng Jiang Sect. Not to protect Jiang Cheng and Jiejie. Not to do what Jiang-shushu saved his life to do, what Yu-furen charged him with, all those years ago.

No.

He vows to curb the wicked, and protect the weak; to always stand with justice, and keep a clear conscience. And he can tell Lan Zhan is with him – that Lan Zhan is committed to the same ideal.

That feels good, too. It feels right.

Only later will he look back at that kid in the cave, that kid on the cliff, and feel a terrible tightness in his chest. Only then will he see where he went wrong – forgetting himself, forgetting his place, his purpose.

That life of chivalry, that fight for justice—that’s not what he’s for. That’s for alphas and omegas. His purpose was determined for him at the moment of his birth.

But stubbornly—selfishly—he had wanted more.

*

Because of that, A-Yuan will live.

*

Because of that, Jiejie will die.

*

He doesn’t know any of that yet. That Qixi night, the biggest threat to Jiejie, as far as he’s concerned, is her stupid betrothed.

Jin Zixuan snarls, “I said, I don’t want to hear about that girl,” and Wei Wuxian decks him.

It’s his duty: he’s known his whole life that he might be called on to die for Jiejie someday, so getting in a little fistfight for her is nothing.

Lan Qiren agrees. “Fighting is forbidden,” he says, explaining to Jin Guangshan why Wei Wuxian is not being punished for blacking the eye of his son and heir, “but of course a beta must defend his sister.”

It’s probably the first time he’s ever agreed with Wei Wuxian about anything. But then, who could better understand a beta’s obligations?

Jiang Fengmian is summoned, too, because of the insult to his daughter. When his meeting with Lan Qiren is over, he hugs Wei Wuxian and tells him, “I’m proud of you, A-Xian.” Holding Wei Wuxian by the shoulders, gaze warm and direct, he adds, “A-Li is lucky to have a brother like you.”

I really liked showing how the JZX fight reaction would have been totally different in this universe; that was one of the things I hated to lose.

Here are a couple other versions of the Lan Yi cave scene - it was so pivotal to explaining why WWX would ultimately choose justice over his family that I knew I needed to get it right.

It’s a good thing, Wei Wuxian reflects later, that Lan Zhan got dragged into Cold Pond Cave with him, and not one of the alpha or omega disciples. Lan Zhan would never have wrapped his ribbon around them—it would have been tantamount to an engagement.

Then, in retrospect, he fucks up.

It doesn’t feel like fucking up at the time. It feels like the only thing he can do: the problem of the Yin Iron is his problem, because it should have been his mother’s problem, because it was her shizun’s problem. When he swears to help contain the Yin Iron, and prevent it from being misused, it feels right.

He won’t realize until later that this is where it all started to go wrong.

That a beta who belongs to Yunmeng Jiang has no business making promises to anyone else.

If Yu-furen had been in that cave, he’d never have made it out alive.

*

In Cold Pond Cave, Lan Yi gives him a charge – a mission.

It feels strangely familiar.

He remembers Yu-furen telling him, “You protect your jie and a-Cheng. You live for them. Die for them.”

It doesn’t occur to him until later that those missions might conflict.

It’s only later that he looks back at that kid in the cave and wants to shake him, wants to slap him—

He sold something that day. Something that wasn’t his to sell.

His allegiance, after all, was already spoken for.

It was spoken for when he was seven years old.

This next scene is just a sketch. I would have fleshed it out more if I'd posted this.

He really wants to go with Lan Zhan to find the Yin Iron. JFM notices, gives him permission. After all, didn’t he defend his sister so well?

But, in fact, you should take A-Cheng with you!

And Wei Wuxian is thrilled. He is! Even better, to take A-Cheng on the quest, too. How could he possibly be disappointed?

When they catch up with Lan Zhan, he pretends he’s not happy to see them, but Wei Wuxian isn’t fooled. They travel through Tanzhou, and then to Yueyang, where the innkeeper has a spooky story for them about the home of the Chang Clan.

Well. Of course they have to go.

*

When they get to the Yueyang Chang compound, Wei Wuxian is immediately on edge. Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng are calm, though.

“There’s no one here,” A-Cheng says, impatient. “We’d smell it if there were.”

Wei Wuxian can’t shake it, though. He keeps hearing little sounds that shouldn’t be there, seeing flickers in the corner of his eye.

“Who has the sense of scent here? Me or you?” A-Cheng bites, irritated as usual.

And that’s when Xue Yang appears with a fistful of purple powder and almost leaves all three of them permanently blind.

Then we'd pick up with the Xue Yang and Wen Indoctrination scenes that make it into the posted fic. There's also a Xuanwu Cave scene in the posted fic; here's a previous version of that, emphasizing WWX already starting to choose LWJ over his family, while the final version treats him staying in the cave as an act of sacrifice for his family:

In the Xuanwu Cave, Jiang Cheng motions him over, hisses his name.

WWX hesitates.

He knows his duty. His place. It’s by his didi’s side.

Lan Zhan looks up at him, bloodied. His brow is creased with pain.

“Go,” Wei Wuxian tells Jiang Cheng. “Send someone back for us!” Hopefully by that time, Jiang Cheng will be safe back in Lotus Pier.

It’s not a question of starvation this time. No one will rescue WWX – he’s served his purpose, in getting Jiang Cheng out. Any further use isn’t worth the danger and effort of the rescue. And with the Gusu Lan still in hiding, it seems unlikely anyone will come for LWJ. They have only themselves.

Then there's the Yunmeng Shuangjie scene in the posted fic.

And then…

Then there are arrows, and a kite—and the long, bloody price of Wei Wuxian’s clear conscience begins to come due.

*

For a moment, it seems like he can pay that price himself. With a whipping—and then, when that’s not enough, with his right hand. He would pay it willingly, joyfully, to keep Lotus Pier and Yunmeng Jiang Sect safe.

But it’s not enough.

His entire purpose in life was to protect the Jiang sect and family. And now…

Lotus Pier is overrun, then lost.

A few lucky disciples are scattered; the rest, slaughtered.

Yu-furen and Jiang-shushu are dead.

Jiejie is pale with fever.

A-Cheng is destroyed by grief; is missing; is mutilated. Nothing lives behind his eyes except a slithering kind of self-loathing.

It is Wei Wuxian’s fault, all of it. He knows this.

Yu-furen tells him so; Jiang-shushu, too. A-Cheng, with his hands around Wei Wuxian’s neck. Even Jiejie doesn’t argue when he confesses that he’s the one to blame. The knowledge of his own culpability rots in his heart: noxious, lightless, and thick.

When he finds the technique for the golden core transfer, all he feels is relief that goes all the way down to his marrow. Finally—finally, he can begin to atone. Finally, he can start to make it right.

These events are also super pivotal, so I took several cracks at the fall of Lotus Pier. The problem with this next one is that it surfaces the idea of WWX being LWJ's mate - not good! That idea is supposed to be unthinkable (literally, WWX can't think it even though it is obviously the most plausible explanation for LWJ's behavior), and having YZY make this accusation here would undermine that. It's also just a freaking long speech for YZY to make. People don't make speeches like this in real life; I try to use them very sparingly.

The whip marks again, from Zidian as always, as Wang Lingjiao looks on. Wei Wuxian doesn’t fight. If by his death or mutilation, he can spare Yunmeng Jiang, then of course that is his duty.

But it’s not enough.

When Yu-furen shoves them into the boat, she snarls at him. “I hate you, you ungrateful boy! You had one purpose in this world, one, and you couldn’t do it – too eager to play omega for that Lan Wangji. You’ll never be his mate! This is the only family you’ll ever have, and you tried to destroy it, you hateful, hateful, unfilial boy.” She sucks in a breath. “This is your last chance. Protect A-Cheng and A-Li. Don’t you dare keep anything for yourself that could go to them. Not even your own life. Now go.”

So then I reworked it to take that part out, and work JFM in.

When Yu-furen shoves them into the boat, she tells him what a failure he is; screams it, with tears in her eyes.

“I hate you, you ungrateful boy! You had one purpose in this world, one, and you couldn’t do it.” She sucks in a breath. “This is your last chance. Protect A-Cheng and A-Li. Don’t you dare keep anything for yourself that could go to them. Not even your own life. Now go.”

Jiang-shushu is kinder. But the message is the same.

“Promise me you’ll always watch over A-Li and A-Cheng, A-Xian.”

And then, they’re both gone.

Okay, we pick back up with the aftermath of the golden core transfer:

It works. It hurts like nothing he’s ever felt before, but that doesn’t matter, because it works. Wen Qing asks him to stay with her until he’s fully healed, but A-Cheng and Jiejie need him. That comes first.

And so, empty, grey, and bleeding, he finds his way to the Yiling Tea House to meet with A-Cheng.

There, he finds an ambush.

Wen Chao laughs as his lackeys land their kicks in Wei Wuxian’s ribs, then turns away as if Wei Wuxian is beneath his notice. “A beta with no family is a dog without a master. Throw it in the Burial Mounds with the rest of the trash.”

*

Then he’s in the Burial Mounds.

In this want, he can knit together the strands of himself that had pulled apart. Revenge, for Lotus Pier and Jiang Sect, for Jiang Cheng’s core and Jiejie’s broken sobs, for Jiang-shushu and Yu-furen’s lives and the disrespect of their bodies after death. And revenge as another word for justice; revenge on the strong, for the weak; on the wicked, for the innocent.

He is revenge. And in that understanding, he walks out of the Burial Mounds. But not out of the dark.

The posted fic has a Burial Mounds flashback, too, but it's more... atmospheric, I guess? And it focuses on WWX being a tool for others to use, not on this theme of WWX trying to reconcile the ultimately irreconcilable values of justice and family.

The same is true of this next bit: there's an analogous bit in the posted fic, but it's the "why won't Lan Zhan just use him and shut up, like everyone else?" bit, focusing on LWJ's refusal to make use of WWX, instead of focusing on the conflict between what Lan Zhan wants from WWX and what WWX's siblings want, like this does:

When he comes back from the Burial Mounds, it’s so hard. Lan Zhan keeps saying, “Come back to Gusu with me,” keeps wanting to help. But WWX has learned his lesson. He cannot abandon JYL and JC to go to Gusu. He has to win this campaign, for them. So they can be safe. So they can return to Lotus Pier.

He can’t rest until that happens.

And all he wants, all he wants, is to rest.

That's all for now! Part II of the alternate version will be posted tomorrow-ish, and then assorted other collections of deleted scenes that are more traditionally deleted-scene-y, if you know what I mean. Feel free to ask if you have questions about any of this, I don't know that I explained everything super well!

ETA: second half of this is now here! Other deleted scenes posts are linked in the masterpost.

#the untamed #my writing #deleted scenes #fit for purpose #wangxian #cql fic

[phxntomhives]

Welcome to my sideblog

That has most likely become my main one. But idk how to change main and second one. So yeah. So if you see @phxntomhives-98 it's still me. I just don't know why sometimes I can't switch accounts and sometimes I can.

I will try to keep this blog mostly related to Kuroshitsuji and twst but who knows what I will like next. From memes (mostly repost because I am not that funny) to theories you can find anything here.

I am not spoiler free BUT I try my best to protect the new fans and hide things under the cut. Unfortunately, I am human, so you may run into spoilers, I am truly sorry.

I am 25, she/her pronouns, INTP. I would love to get to know more people in the fandoms I am in, but eeeh my social skills are lacking. So feel free to hit my dms, I don't bite I promise. I am trying to make more moots/mutuals pls

Here most thing you can find me posting about/comments etc (under the cut because it became long ops)

Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

Sebaciel shippers do not interact. I will just block and move on. If you see me liking one post tagged like that it's because I am stupid and I don't always read the tags, pls let me know and I will fix the problem.

Now that the important part is over: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW SEASON AAH. The Weston College arc is my favourite so I am very happy and it feels so nice to see my children here :3

I am up to date with the manga as well, so if you need to cry with someone, I am here. Sobbing.

My fave is Ciel, and Lizzie slander shall not be tolerated (half joking, you are free to dislike her but I am ready to fight at any time to defend her).

A couple of things you may want to check? If you are bored???

New manga chapter comments under: #Phxntomhives Kuro manga yapping

Analysis/theories

"The Parade of Battlers" song analysis

Finny grew up (chapter 211 spoilers)

Short analysis of the GFantasy May cover

The unlucky fate of the P4

Silly theory of the cricket's ending dance

Edgar sure is very much unlucky when it comes to life decision...

About Lizzie's anger (reblog theory)

Chapter 209 crack theory (to welcome denial)

Short analysis of Bluewer talking to Ciel during the Midnight party (from a reblog)

Headcanons

P4 headcanons

My kuro AU, kuro AU pt 2

Gregory scream headcanons (kind of angst)

Pandora Hearts

Very new to the fandom and I understood like half of it. Anyway it's beautiful and you all should read it! Come cry with me!

Here some fresh thoughts after I read the last chapter

Headcanon to hurt my soul

Vanitas no carte/The case study of Vanitas

Up to date with both anime and manga! And not so patiently waiting for each update. I miss them, I hope for a new chapter soon.

Twisted Wonderland (JP SERVER)

Up to date with main story and eons behind with the events ops. No I do not know japanese, tho I am trying to learn, but I started the game when that was the only version avaiable and I will not start again on eng server sorry. (Technically I have started but I had no more space on my phone and one had to go)

If you are curious about what I think about the story check #phxntomhives twst yapping (because I plan to type a lot and refuse to keep updating this list it's supposed to be pretty after all)

Theories

Events are canon. Part 2: wish upon a star.

Silver gets a title copium.

Tokyo Aliens

READ IT LEGALLY. FOR FREE. HERE I TELL YOU HOW.

WHY IS THERE NO FANDOM IT'S SUCH A NICE STORY. PLEASE GIVE IT A CHANCE.

I AM LIVING OF HALF A POST AND FANMADE TRANSLATION. HELP.

Parallels between Tokyo Aliens and Negai no Astro

Spoiler/Analysis from scans: chapter 41, chapter 42, chapter 43, chapter 44, chapter 45, chapter 46, chapter 47, chapter 48 (After I added these I basically took over the tags plsssss)

Dr stone

It's appearing more on my feed so I had the feeling I had to add this lol. I love it dearly, I finished the manga and I need to catch up with the anime. I am extremely worried about the rumored (?) new volume that is coming ngl

Negai no Astro

Damn, I am hooked.

Parallels between Tokyo Aliens and Negai no Astro

Aaand honestly many more, feel free to ask! If it helps, here is my not updated because it takes forever MyAnimeList! But I probably missed many of them so really, just come and ask.

I may drop some suggestions to read too sometimes, here they are

Suggestions for you <3

Why you should read Merry Marbling

If you like Negai no Astro or Tokyo Aliens PLEASE CHECK THE OTHER SERIE MENTIONED.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #twisted wonderland #tokyo aliens #twst #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #mutuals #searching for mutuals #negai no astro #pandora hearts

[separatist-apologist]

We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.

Note: Based on this tweet from @heathermcwrites: "One of my bridesmaids just broke up with her bf who was supposed to come to my wedding & I was sad for her for about 3 seconds until I remembered that her crush will also be at the wedding (single) and I'm now more committed to this 2nd chance romance than to my own marriage."

"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3

The shrill ringing of Gwyn’s phone dragged her from sleep. She twisted, peeling her cheek from Azriel’s naked chest, to fumble for the phone on her nightstand.

“I swear to God,” Azriel muttered, eyes still closed as she brought the bright screen towards her blinking face, “If it’s Jonathon, I’m going to commit a felony.”

It was Jonathon. Illuminated in the otherwise pitch black room, both her and Azriel stared for a moment. 

“I won’t—”

“Might as well,” he grumbled. “Tell him you’ve moved on.”

She scoffed. Moved on with who? Him? Still, Gwyn hit the green answer button, if only to beg him to stop calling her.

“What do you want?” she said by way of greeting as Azriel wrapped muscular arms tight against her. He burrowed his face into her hair, huffing out a breath of irritation. 

“What do I want? I want to talk to you–”

“It’s two in the fucking morning,” Azriel snarled, loud enough for Jonathon to stop what he was saying. Gwyn poked him hard in the stomach, forced out of bed to keep Azriel from saying anything else. Azriel watched, propped up on his elbows with an expression hidden in the darkness while she threw on her tank top and shorts from the night before. She didn’t need to see him to feel his disapproval. 

“Who was that?”

“Cassian,” Gwyn replied easily, apparently a practiced liar now. There was no way she was telling him she’d immediately jumped into bed with someone new. She knew exactly what Jonathon would say about that. How he’d twist things to make her the bad guy, telling all their friends she’d cheated on him or worse. “It is two in the morning. Can we talk about this later? Like when I’m home?” she added, pushing open the balcony door. The air was cool and breezy and perfect. She swallowed a breath of it, dropping into one of the wicker patio chairs and propping her feet up on the railing. 

“I want to talk now. It’s ten my time and all I can think about is how we left things.”

“Of course you want to talk,” she snapped, immediately irritated. “I had a nine hour flight and am exhausted, but since you’re awake, I should be too?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth, Gwyneth,” he snapped. “It’s ten your time, too, technically. I don’t know how you’re even still sleeping.”

“I just told you I was tired,” she retorted. What was she doing? The worlds hottest man was currently half asleep in her bed and she was sitting on a balcony arguing with her ex.

“Have you been working out? Did you go for—”

“Are you seriously asking me if I’ve gone to the gym?” Gwyn demanded as the glass door pushed open behind her. Az padded out in a clean pair of shorts, his handsome face twisting in a scowl. 

Hang up on him, Azriel mouthed, leaning against the balcony casually. 

“Sorry for worrying about you. I want to take care of you, Gwyn. I was thinking that you should tell Nesta you can’t do her wedding and come home so we can fix this—”

“I’m not coming home and there’s nothing to fix,” Gwyn interrupted snappishly. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m asking you to stop calling and texting me.”

“Because there’s someone else?” he demanded, picking a fight at the last possible second to keep her on the phone. It was his little trick and this time Gwyn wasn’t falling for it.

“Even if there was, it’s none of your business anymore. Stop calling me. I mean it. This is my best friends wedding. It has nothing to do with you.” And then she hung up before he could argue, silencing her phone just for good measure. He wouldn’t stop calling until he was given an answer that satisfied him. It was clear he meant to make this vacation all about him and if Gwyn wasn’t so worried he’d call Nesta and start more problems, she would have blocked him entirely.

Azriel offered her his full attention. “Did he really ask if you went to the gym?” His tone was dark and angry, like he was personally offended on her behalf. Men, she grumbled privately, rising from her chair.

“Like you wouldn’t worry the same,” she said, taking her irritation out on him. Azriel followed her back into the bedroom, closing the door behind them quietly.

“If you want to work out, I know just the thing,” he said, catching her from behind and pulling her into his body. One hand slid up her stomach to cup her breast, tugging at the nipple.

“Aren’t you wrung out?” she asked, thinking once again of Jonathon. Once was always enough, and good enough to wait several days in between. He thought constant fucking was pedestrian which had always bothered Gwyn, given her sex drive was pretty high. 

Azriel’s laugh was dark. “Hardly. It’s been four hours and I find I’m ravenous again.”

Jesus Christ he was so hot. Gwyn twisted in his hold, facing him in the dark.

“And if I did want to work out…how would you help?”

“I’d bounce you on my cock until you were breathless and coated in sweat,” he replied easily, nipping her earlobe with his teeth. “And then I’d flip you over and start again. Ass in the air, face in the pillow.”

Her legs were practically shaking while he pulled that tank top back over her head. Hands replaced the fabric, sliding up her skin to cup her breasts. 

“Is that all?” she asked breathlessly, arching into his touch. Azriel ground his cock against her ass, already erect. Tweaking at her nipple, he chuckled darkly.

“Not impressed? Tell me if I embarrass you.”

He gave her no time to offer a quippy response. Azriel’s hand wrapped around her throat as he turned her around, kissing her roughly while his fingers pressed against her windpipe. Gwyn didn’t think she’d ever been so wet in her life, and Azriel had barely touched her.

Settling between her legs, he rolled his hips, letting his erection rub between the fabric. It was what she needed, the friction lighting up her brain. She raked her fingers through his dark, thick hair, tugging at the strands until he groaned. Hardly unaffected, she thought smugly. There was something thrilling about whatever was happening between them. It was devoid of the usual awkwardness that came with dating—Azriel didn’t like her beyond her body, which meant Gwyn didn’t have to worry if he thought she was weird or too freaky or whatever other things got in her way. 

She could yank at his pants, demanding he reveal his gorgeous cock and he didn’t make her feel bad about it. He merely repaid the favor, all but ripping off her shorts before flipping them over so she could sink against the heavy, thick length of him. Gwyn exhaled a slow breath of relief, letting him fill her to the point of splitting. 

“Fuck,” he panted beneath her, hands holding her hips. “You’re so fucking tight.”

She didn’t care—men always said that. What Gwyn cared about was that first wet slide of his cock as he lifted her up only to yank her back down. He treated her carelessly, like she was something durable, something that didn’t break so easily. He fucked her the way she’d so often tried to get Jonathon to with little success. 

It made her like Azriel, in a weird way. Like he saw beyond whatever existed externally and just understood instinctively they wanted the same things. Or maybe Gwyn was merely projecting that long held crush and Azriel didn’t give a fuck whether she enjoyed herself or not, so long as she was.

“I’m going to fill you up and fuck you again,” he whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Everyone’s going to think you’re jetlagged, but you’ll know, won’t you?” She whimpered, her tits bouncing in time with his vicious thrusts. She had her nails pressed so tight against his chest she might have drawn blood. 

He didn’t seem to care, if his bruising touch was any indication. Not when his thumb met the apex of her thighs, rubbing over her slick clit like he’d done in the bathroom. It was all so second nature to him, getting her off like it was his only pleasure in life. Gwyn had been half prepared to fake it, had already begun to before he started rubbing. Their eyes met and she realized he knew what she was up to.

“Not with me,” he growled. “If I’m doing something you don’t like, you need to tell me.”

“Okay,” she breathed, heart pounding in her throat. Had anyone ever been hotter before that moment? She didn’t think so. Not when she came around him with a soft cry and certainly not when he pulled her off him just as he’d promised to put her on her hands and knees.

The change in position made her toes curl, her body lock. Azriels cock was massive, thick enough it made her ache and long enough he was all but banging up against the natural barrier of her body. He wielded it not like a weapon despite each punching thrust, but like a tool meant to drag every inch of pleasure from her. 

And god it was working. Azriel wrapped her hair around his fist, arching her neck so he could squeeze again. Teeth scraped over her skin as he whispered, “Are you going to be my good girl and come for me again?”

She clenched hard around him, whining her assent. Gwyn, who had never once come from penetration alone, was writhing as the head of his cock slid over and over and over against some soft part of her pussy, touching as if it were his tongue against his clit.

She came with a strange, jerking violence, overwrought and too-sensitive.

“Please—”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he replied, too breathless to be truly believable. Gwyn buried her face in the bed, coming a third time as Azriel did for the first, groaning loudly as he pushed deep inside her. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, sounding as if he’d just run a marathon. She looked at the clock on the nightstand, a holdover from a time where people didn’t carry phones in their pocket.

4:50.

She swallowed. It felt like five minutes. 

He pushed her into the bed, pulling out and unwrapping the condom she hadn’t even realized he’d been wearing. Hardly a positive sign, given she hadn’t even really known him for longer than a day.

“Want breakfast?” he whispered into the rapidly lightning dark, pulling her against his body when he collapsed to the bed. “I’m starving.”

“I have something you can eat,” she said without thinking about it. Azriel turned his head, grinning.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

By the time Gwyn and Azriel made their way out of the their shared suit, it was nearly eight in the morning. Azriel had gone down on her, taking his sweet ass time given she’d just come three times on his cock—and then again when she tried to shower, he’d fucked her up against the glass, massive hand wrapped around her slim throat. 

It seemed like they weren’t the only ones who’d been up all night having sex. Lucien Vanserra was staring absently at a wall, fork in hand. His broad chest was littered with teeth marks and his hair was suspiciously tangled, as if he’d just managed to get to the buffet–and it had been rough. Elain seemed fine, bright eyed and cheerful, talking to Arina Vanserra animatedly. 

Nesta, too, had that same lust fogged look Gwyn prayed she didn’t. 

Azriel peeled off to eat with Rhys, casual and unbothered. Like there was nothing strange between them. Like she hadn’t eaten her out until she all but saw God. It left Gwyn to drop beside Nesta and put her head on Nesta’s shoulder. 

“Sleep well?”

“Enough,” Gwyn agreed, wishing she could tell Nesta this. It was Nesta’s wedding and Gwyn would be damned if she fucked it up with her personal drama. She very much doubted Azriel, sitting with his back to her four tables away, wanted her to blab all about their very casual arrangement, besides.

“I got none. It’s like Cassian doesn’t need sleep,” Nesta grumbled, watching her fiance join Rhys and Azriel at their table. All three of them were shirtless and tattooed and had captured the attention of half the women in the room without ever meaning to. Both Gwyn and Nesta fell silent for a moment, drinking in the muscular forms of the men eating, totally oblivious that they were the object of a lot of different fantasies.

Gwyn hadn’t thought it was possible to feel any more arousal. Her pussy was all but bruised from Azriel’s attention and yet she still found herself imagining herself laid out before him, his own personal feast.

“I need to go into town,” Nesta told Gwyn, a frown on her face. “They are short some of the liquor we ordered. I don’t want to ask Eris for it, so–”

“I’ll go,” Gwyn said quickly. “Don’t worry about it. Just give me a list, I’ve got this covered.”

Nesta’s face collapsed with relief. “Really?”

“What good is your maid of honor if I let you run yourself ragged. Give me your list and then join Cassian out on the beach.”

Nesta nodded. “I’ll text it to you, Split it with Azriel, while you’re at it. I know Cassian won’t make him do anything but shots while we’re down here.”

Gwyn glanced back to Az, who turned his head, having caught them talking about him. “What’s his deal, anyway?” she asked when he turned back around.

Nesta was smiling, likely at Cassian though Gwyn was still staring at the bunching muscles in Azriel’s tattooed back. 

Nesta shrugged. “He’s just…Az. I don’t know how else to describe him. Why?”

God, Gwyn could never admit that her crush on Azriel was back in full force. Nesta would try and play matchmaker, and where would that leave Gwyn? Embarrassed. She bet Az had a line of women down the block, all waiting on him.

“He’s just quiet.”

“God, did he go in and immediately lock himself in his room?”

Hardly.

“Yeah,” she replied, unsure what else she could say. Certainly not that he’d been in bed with her all night. It didn’t matter. Gwyn’s phone rang shrilly, drawing Azriel’s attention back to her and Nesta’s attention away from Az. They both peered down at the screen.

“Jonathon?” Nesta asked. “What’s he want?”

Her heart pounded anxiously in her chest. There was no escaping him, not after this morning. She needed to just face the music.

“Send me your list,” Gwyn said, rising from her chair. She could feel Azriel’s eyes burning against her skin. “I’ll be back.”

Gwyn answered the phone just outside the hall. Warm, morning air slid over her skin as she said, “Hello?”

“Are you awake now, Gwyneth?” 

God, she thought she hated him in that moment. “Or should I try again in five hours?”

“You should stop calling,” she hissed, walking towards the massive courtyard where the fountain stood. “Like I’ve asked you repeatedly.”

“I need to talk to you. Is now a good time?”

“No!” she exclaimed angrily. “I’m trying to help Nesta with her wedding and yet somehow, I’m still worrying about you! You have managed to make this vacation all about you! What could you possibly—”

Her phone was pulled from her hand before she could finish. Azriel, shirtless, beautiful Azriel, put her phone to his ear.

“You don’t understand the word no?” he asked in that deep, dark voice of his. He didn’t wait for Jonathon to respond. “Let me explain. It means no. Don’t call her again.”

He hung up before Gwyn could warn him. Instead, she smacked him in his rock hard stomach. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I hate him,” Azriel replied smoothly. “And you’re too nice.”

“I don’t think either of them are good reasons,” she snapped. “He’s going to keep calling–”

“Might as well give him my number, then. He can beg me for a date.”

She looked up at him, drinking in his unwavering confidence with a mixture of awe and irritation. “I didn’t think he was your type.”

Azriel smirked. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“I don’t know anything about you,” she said with exasperation, yanking her phone back out of his hand. Already, she had a text from Jonathon.

I know that wasn’t Cassian. Are you seeing someone? 

She ignored it. “Are you asking to get to know me? You only have to ask.”

“Don’t do that again,” she warned. “You just cause problems.”

Azriel’s easy going smile slid off his face. “Fuck—I’m sorry.”

Gwyn stood there, blinded by the early morning sun, staring up at him. She was waiting for him to qualify that apology, to offer some excuse. Instead, Azriel waited to see if she’d forgive him. 

Gwyn blinked. “It’s fine. You were trying to help.”

“Don’t be so easy on me,” he murmured, his eyes so uncomfortably soft. Like he liked her. Gwyn was projecting and she knew it would only get hurt if she couldn’t find something wrong with him. 

“You want to help? Nesta has a list of things she needs done. You could help me with that.”

Azriel grinned.

“Hand it over.”

AZRIEL:

Azriel had told Gwyn to meet him in front of the resort but he hadn’t told her why. She found out that evening, stepping out of the sliding glass doors with wide, teal eyes. She was so fucking pretty it made his chest ache. It had been a day running around and checking on their venue, harassing Eris Vanserra while he tried to feel up his wife, and a bunch of other little tasks he didn’t care about.

What he cared about was the red haired woman doing it with him. Gwyn was filled with information about Nesta—and occasionally Cassian—and if he was careful, would tell him about her, too. Nothing deep—she taught history at Velaris University, which Azriel had thought was a pretty nice university, though he didn’t dare ask. She’d told him about her syllabus, as if Azriel knew jack shit about antiquity.

He bet she would have told him if he’d asked, though. Gwyn was very clearly passionate about history. He liked that more than he was willing to admit. Every girl he spent significant time with wanted to talk about was her socials and what she did to maintain them. He knew Gwyn had an instagram because he’d started following her that afternoon, but it was hardly curated and he knew she wasn’t making money off it.

She halted, letting him check her out in her short shorts and her white top that revealed fair skin every time she took a breath. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, catching copper in the bright sunlight.

“What is that?” she asked. Azriel looked down at the motorcycle he’d managed to dig out, spending far too much money hoping to impress her. He couldn’t tell if it was working.

“It’s a bike,” he replied, working hard to make himself sound casual and cool when in truth he felt nervous as fuck. “You coming still?”

“On that?”

He looked back and the sleek black and red bike sitting silent just behind before offering her up a helmet. “Do you want to walk?”

“No, but…” she bit her bottom lip. “Is it safe?”

“It is if I’m driving it. I can drive anything,” he added, bragging just a little. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She hesitated, fingers twitching before she took that helmet. Azriel caught her hand.  

“Trust me,” he added softly. 

Magic words. Gwyn nodded, jamming that helmet onto her head with a smile. “If we die, I’m going to haunt you.”

“I’ll be dead, too,” he reminded her. “So we’ll just be hanging out in the after-life.”

She wrapped her arms around his torso, poking him in the side. “I’ll make you miserable for all eternity, then.”

“You could try,” he replied, revving the engine to life. It was so loud, the smoke from the back nearly choking them both and yet she was on that seat, pressed tight against him and that was all he’d wanted. An excuse to touch her without being obvious. 

They left the resort behind and Azriel showed off just a little, weaving in and out of traffic like it was nothing, if only to feel her hold him tighter. He knew he was down bad, that he needed to get himself together before he did something utterly foolish.

But fuck, when was the last time anyone had made him feel like this? Giddy and happy, like he had literal butterflies living in his gut? It was his endless problem—he always fell too hard, too fast. She was still dealing with her ex and he was trying to figure out how to convince her he was worth her time.

The island was bigger than he’d thought and built on a steep, long-dominant volcanic slope. As they rode into the dusky evening, they passed a winery Azriel very much intended to bring her back to just as soon as he had a good enough reason to do so. They passed farmers herding sheep before they were back in the main city, if it could even be called that. No time seemed to have passed, except for the people on the cobblestone streets that moved about in jeans and cotton blends. Azriel nearly crashed, craning his neck to look up at the spire tower of massive black church set in the middle of the city square, momentarily awed by the construction.

He wasn’t the only one. He could feel Gwyn twisting this way and that, looking at the terracotta houses and the vibrant awnings hanging in front of restaurants that were likely centuries old. He was pleased to have brought her, even if they were trying to use Vanserra’s money to place a very expensive order of champagne. 

He cut the engine in front of the vendor, pulling his helmet off with what he hoped was elegant grace Gwyn hopped off, too, flipping her hair out of the helmet carelessly. His cock immediately stirred to life, the image branded in his brain. Her bright, happy smile soothed that wildness and dragged him back to reality.

“That was fun,” she breathed, pressing a hand to his chest. He caught her wrist, pulling her in for a soft kiss. 

“You should see me in the states, if you liked that,” he breathed, too stupid for his own good. Gwyn didn’t flinch away, didn’t do anything but look up at him with those ocean blue eyes.

“Yeah? I think I might like that.”

He could have floated away. He kissed her again, slowly–like he had the right to. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, releasing her despite every instinct begging him not to. 

She smiled and when he put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her into the old building, Gwyn didn’t pull away. They looked like lovers, like they’d come not because their two best friends had accidentally fallen in love, but because they’d fallen in love.

He wanted that reality so badly it made his teeth ache. 

The owner spoke decent English which was lucky given neither he nor Gwyn spoke a word of Italian. Negotiations seemed to move smoother when Azriel pulled out the car Eris had given them and slid it over an mahogany counter. Gwyn had written out the number of cases of champagne Nesta wanted and google translate helped them with the rest. They’d offered up the address, but Azriel suspected he and Rhys might have to come back, maybe with the younger Vanserra, to carry cases of liquor into a rental van. 

“Want to get dinner?” he asked her impulsively when they finished, high on both his success and spending an evening in Italy with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Gwyn looked around, pointing just down the street to a patio illuminated by hanging string lights.

It was romantic as shit. That was Azriel’s real problem. He had no idea how to wine and dine a woman outside of the bedroom. His good looks did most of the work for him, maybe a shallow thing to admit given Gwyn had such an interesting personality. She’d worked for it and Az…well, he had his six pack, didn’t he? 

They settled in an outdoor patio, sitting across from one another and surveying the menu. It was helpfully in English and Italian. She ordered pasta.

Azriel ordered a pizza. He couldn’t help himself. When in Rome, right? 

“So,” Gwyn began, lips pressed to a glass of wine. “What happened after school?”

He held his own glass in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“Rhys and Cassian went to college,” she began, unaware of his stomach immediately began to sink. Here it was. All the reasons he wasn’t right for her, starting with that diploma. He’d heard it all before. “And you were on the soccer team with Lucien, weren’t you?”

He scoffed. “I was good but Vanserra was…” 

He could begrudgingly admit Vanserra was great. Gwyn took a drink, waiting for him to respond. Azriel took a breath, swallowing the urge to snap at her. 

“My mom got sick,” he admitted. “And I’m good with cars. I meant to go, but after a year at the shop I figured what was the point? I was already doing what I liked and a degree wasn’t going to change that.”

“How many shops do you have?” she asked, catching him by surprise. Interest shone in those teal eyes and Azriel, so used to women trying to cajole him into feeling bad about skipping out on a mountain of debt for a business degree, didn’t respond immediately.

“Four. Five, if we keep up our metrics through the year.”

“That’s incredible,” she breathed. “You must be so proud.”

He was. Azriel nodded, certain he must look like a cartoon character with its heart beating outside its chest. Could she see it? Azriel was so fucked, saved only by a waiter dropping off their food. 

Gwyn took a bite of her food, noodles wrapped around a fork. Her eyes fluttered shut and Azriel had to cross his legs to keep his cock from stirring to life. 

“Taste good?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows breathlessly. He didn’t even realize he’d put himself in his pizza, staining the sleeve of his shirt, until her eyes snagged on the mistake.

He wasn’t embarrassed.

“How do you do that?” she asked him curiously.

“Do what?” he replied, thinking she meant his careless actions.

“Make everything so unspeakably hot?”

Oh. 

“You think my elbow in sauce is unspeakably hot?” he teased. 

“No, that was dorky as fuck. Thank you for reminding me you’re still a mere mortal. I meant the way you talk.” 

He waited expectantly for her to follow that up.

Gwyn sighed. “Taste good?” She mimicked his voice, trying to sound sultry while making him sound like a serial killer. Azriel laughed, head thrown back.

Gwyn crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it’s not exactly like that.”

Azriel couldn’t smother his smile as he leaned forward again, this time avoiding his food which he very much intended to eat just as soon as she stopped being so unbearably cute. 

“For the record,” he said softly, catching the way she shivered despite the warmth. “You taste incredible.”

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered. “We’re in public, Az.”

“Eat your dinner, Gwyn, so I can eat mine.”

She narrowed her eyes but Azriel was satisfied. He’d eat his food.

And then he’d eat her. 

#gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #we could have had dragon eris #anyway #daddy is back

[furymint]

2023 Creator Reflection

ffxiv.

1. dance me to the end of love

this one was fun! i always like merging a character's outfit with the bg so i liked doing that again. picking the colors for elliots outfit was also enjoyable. ive wanted to make smth w that cover for a while

2. shame was still the tyrant of his life

i only wrote two nol and eli things this year and neither of them are finished. the first was a continuation of a scene where nol kisses elliot against the blue stained glass in his room--i once posted it but then i deleted it bc it made me feel woozy for its allusions to sex. i wanted to rebuild it and take a shot at it now that im comfortable writing n reading sex, but i never got very far. theres actually lots of nice parts! i just like nols dumb angsting the best!

3. valentine

i really wanted to focus on nol's eye here, but also not make it too obvious lol. i used a ps filter like a schmuck but i wanted it to be darker without making it even more difficult to see, so i took away their bodies and limited the colors to make it what it is.

4. amateur cracksmen

the second nol n eli wip, which doesnt have many interesting lines rn, was a raffles-inspired story where eli drags nol as his valet to a rival artist's house and tries to steal back the brooch that he bought from an underground dealer feat. much babbling abt the state of societal responsibility that war is supposed to bring

ffxvi.

1. herz an herz dir

i wrote some reflections about this one already here. i honestly was very (distressed voice) cant believe im writing pure fanfic for the first time in over ten years and lacked a lot of direction when i started bc uhhhhh terence has 8 and a half mins of screen time. i tried to convince myself that it's not much different than me stealing brucemont for my own evil devices, but the unique perspective of seeing quite so much fan content def influenced my interpretation. i wanted their relationship to be much more imbalanced from the get-go initially--dion using his power unintentionally and terence barely passing a thought abt it until later bc he's just so accustomed to obeying--but i ended up giving terence a lot more sway & ammunition in their argument. the breakfast bed thing is also smth im rly fond of.

2. mund an mund

there's also additional meta for this one here. i made a silly doodle abt it also. dion kept picking fights here! it honestly turned out how i expected. when i first started this fic, i was gonna have dion start out right in oriflamme and meet ter and kihel there, but i booted them to northreach so i could have this stretch of conflict. i think it's like. Bad Pacing. technically. if i still believe the conflict introduced in the next chapter is the core one, that is. which i sorrrrta do. but i dont care bc i rly like the visual of kihel laying in dion's lap and getting to put a gun on the wall w ahmed.

3. eines atems

its been two months since the last chapter and this chapter is humiliatingly not written. i have all my scrambled notes and scenes that i jotted down in between the first two chapters, so i have a full direction, but it's been really difficult to write lately. ive been devoting all my time to trying to recoup my mental health and work on my teredio secret santa. ill start next year with this wip as a priority, so for now i only have the photoshop edit for it. kihel is holding terence's hand--it's his pov turn.

overall i didnt like this year very much. i didn't read, create, research or do a lot even though i tried to. i became really disconnected from all of my friends bc im too tired to stay for rp or hold online conversations. at this point, i dont play ffxiv at all except the few times i managed to rp a little. i moved into nanny's house and have my own space, but don't have the presence of mind to do anything about my pc, books, and so on, although i did make a lot of progress rewrapping my books w fresh wraps and some other things. my plans for next year are to reach out to a couple of my friends, build my pc, relearn + rebuild + relaunch my queer lit blog on open source code, survive school, and rediscover the productivity ive lost the past few years.

teredio has helped me a LOT to find community, inspiration, and art in my loneliest year yet. im very proud of my fic and grateful every day to the ppl who have reached out to me about liking it. even if im sorry about my productivity rate in comparison to how many extraordinary writers there are in the ship's fandom, i know i have to be easy on myself to relearn how to write, create a writing schedule that works for me, and stop punishing myself when i cant get the words out.

past reflections:  2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

#ngl writing this out made me feel like #i reopened a lot of grief about my ability to work and create #and i need to walk away from it before i cry even more lol #thank u to my fc for still being the place #i love to visit when i wake up #even though all of us a struggling a lot #with life and ingame motivation #brianna babbles

[taleweaver-ramblings]

Taleweaver Rereads Prydain: The Book of Three (Part 2)

I decided to do these as separate posts instead of reblogs because otherwise the post will get really long. Click here for Part 1 (Chapters 1–9, also a lot of facepalming at Taran and appreciating Gwydion.)

Also, as a note, I am putting very little effort into avoiding any but the most significant spoilers. The books are 50+ years old. I know the lucky 10,000 is a thing, but yeah.

Chapters 10–13 Thoughts

Despite the fact that Fflewddur Fflam is, again, my fourth-favorite literary bard, I apparently forgot about half of his backstory. Shame on me.

(It's ok, Fflewddur. You may not be an official bard, but I like you anyway. You can still be on my list.)

I cannot remember if the fact that Fflewddur is technically a king is ever addressed again. What is going on in his kingdom? Did he abdicate? Or is his kingdom just small enough that it can run itself without him looking after it?

While I retract none of my past comments about Taran's intelligence or common sense, I will give him this: once he gets some weight of responsibility on his shoulders, he learns fast. He's still a goose at times, of course, but he's less of one.

Contradicting this: "There is risk enough without having to worry about a girl." Taran. Dude. Eilonwy is, at this point, arguably the most competent member of your group. I know part of this is that you've been taught to protect girls, but trust me, you want Eilonwy along.

"In Caer Dalben, he had dreamed of being a hero. But dreaming, he had come to learn, was easy; and at Caer Dalben no lives depended on his judgement." Like I said: Taran does learn fast. Also, a lot of wisdom in that statement. Dreaming is easy. Doing is harder.

I do not ever remember reaching a point the first time I read these where I liked Gurgi. I could tell that I was supposed to like him, and I remember appreciating that he had a good character arc, but I didn't enjoy his scenes.

On the reread, thus far, I still don't enjoy his scenes (mostly because I find his manner of talking annoying), but I do have a lot more appreciation for his character (notably, the fact that he has more courage than it seems at first) and his situation (having "lost the wisdom of the animals without gaining the intelligence of men" — not an exact quote, but close enough; it's an interesting state to consider).

All Taran's conversations with Eilonwy seem to go sideways from how Taran wanted them, and sometimes that's his own fault, but sometimes that's on Eilonwy, and I do feel for Taran in those cases. "Somehow I can never seem to make it come out right" indeed, dude. I know exactly what you mean.

I forgot that there was a reference to Culhwch and Olwen in this book! (Though Alexander spells Culhwch as Kilhuch.) That's my second-favorite Welsh myth!

I also appreciate the implication that the in-world version of Noah is just hanging out in Prydain, never having died, looking out for the animals. It's great.

I may or may not finish the book tonight; if not tonight, 'twill be tomorrow for certain. We shall see.

#taleweaver reads #taleweaver reads prydain

[enbyeddiediaz]

the abysmal kind of love

Chapter 1/2 | 6.1k 

It starts when Eddie gets shot. Or just after he got shot, technically. It starts when Buck has to tell Chris what’s happened to Eddie, to his father . He knows he’s going to take care of Chris, he knows down to his bones that it’s him, that he’s the one who’s supposed to take care of him while Eddie is….incapacitated. God, he can’t even let himself think about it without wanting to collapse like a tree.

But that first night in Eddie’s house, sleeping on Eddie’s couch, using Eddie’s toiletries because he forgot to bring his own, is one of the hardest in his life. At first he thinks that he’ll just leave his duffel bag with extra clothes at the end of the couch, but then he thinks about Christopher. What if he comes out for water or a snack and trips on it? What if he cuts his head open when he falls? What if I have to take him to the hospital? What if, what if, what if playing on repeat in his head. If Chris gets hurt because Buck couldn’t protect him either he thinks he might finally break. So he moves the bag into Eddie’s room.

The bed is still unmade from that morning, Eddie’s pajama pants pooled on the floor from where he left them when he got dressed. The room doesn’t depict the tragedy that struck earlier that day. And even though Buck knows Eddie is safe now, that he made it out of surgery and has a good recovery ahead of him, he still can’t manage to stop more tears from welling in his eyes for a second. As he eases the pit in his stomach, he moves to drop his duffel bag on the bed.

He only packed enough clothes for a couple of nights in his haste to get to Christopher, so there’s really no need to unpack. Yet somehow it feels…incomplete just leaving his duffel bag on the bed, almost like Buck isn’t even there. So instead, he finds one of the empty drawers in Eddie’s barely used dresser and puts his clothes in. He’s not sure why, but it settles something in his gut.

That’s when it starts.

first half of the drawer fic is out!! i’ve been waiting for this one and i hope you enjoy it :)

tags below (ask to be added or removed):

@trashbaget @amourbleue @cowboydiaz @swiftiediaz @eddiessluttytanktop @eddiediazisascorpio @bee-notes @shannonhutchins @buddiemadney-4ever @alex1424 @eddito @elliot0804 @hearteyesdiaz @two-cut-lines @racoonsa @anthotneystark @evangeline118

#ive been waiting for this one! turn it up! #liz rambles #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #911 fox #911 on fox #my fic #my writing #buddie fic

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Chapter 20- Part 2

So, as you can see, I decided to send in Glare on Magmortar initially to lower its Attack so Fire Punch and Feint Attack won’t do as much damage when Meteo comes back in.

And yet again, we set up rain and then switch back to Ravine…

And with this, Cal’s likely to switch out to Quilava again, but I’m still gonna set up Stealth Rock again. And then, when Quilava does come in, we can bring in Crater!

And I definitely didn’t misclick and accidentally send in Glare beforehand thus providing an extra turn for the rainbow to finally go away, no siree.

Anyways, Earth Power time!

So like before, we’ll start with Glare for Intimidate.

And now we stall for a second so I can heal up Meteo, then send him in to use Rain Dance again.

Then we heal a second time before unleashing a boosted Weather Ball-

Oh yeah, that 10 HP is gonna help you real good, pal. Wait, what move is Magmortar using now-?

…I’m going to commit manslaughter-

No worries, Ravine can get the revenge kill.

And there’s that darn Houndoom again! But this time, I know what to use against it- it’s Cobalt’s time to shine! Literally!

Sadly, that exchange with Magmortar went on long enough for the rain to die down, so Inferno’s not gonna be weakened in that way anymore. But don’t worry, the other half of my plan should still work. I don’t know if Cobalt can outspeed Houndoom or not, but that also shouldn’t be much of an issue.

Here’s the problem, though- if it does use Inferno, and if it does hit, will Cobalt even be able to survive such a powerful attack to do his own thing? Even without the rain?

He did it, he lived and the Rawst Berry paid off! And…technically, this means this Houndoom has now landed four Infernos in a row- every time it has used Inferno in both of its appearances, it has never missed, like…wow. How does that keep happening? It’s gotta have some kinda accuracy-boosting item, right? Wide Lens, Zoom Lens, one of those?

(Future edit: I checked after this battle. Houndoom is not holding any items. Arceus has abandoned me.)

Now, what is this move Cobalt is supposed to use? Easy- Dig, baby!! And since Houndoom outspeeds, the next time it uses Inferno, Cobalt will be safe underground!

HAH! Now that stupid move misses, finally!

AND DIG FINISHES THE JOB! It helps when it gets a critical hit!

Ooooh no no no, I’m not falling for that! I’m not risking anything to lose now after all that, we’re bringing out Crater to deal with this!

I could ask you the same thing, pal!!

Same thing as Torkoal and Quilava- Earth Power all the way!

And the Quick Claw continues to pull its weight!

There you are, Victoria! Where the heck were you? You went to Lapis Ward first, how did Xera end up ahead of you??

Previous

Next

#pokemon reborn #pokemon reborn spoilers #pokemon fan game #pokemon reborn screenshot let's play

[avelera]

Alas, I don't really think I've got a draft of Giving Sanctuary 21 that I'm satisfied with as of right now so I will have to add another day to the clock because I am braindead tired right now and I'm not even sure if the last 1,000 words or so that I wrote are even coherent. BUT, the chapter is technically at 10k words right now, which means it's not length that's the issue with regards to posting it, it's more what the shape of Ch. 22 is going to look like, what I want to keep here and what I want to move into the second half, etc.

I suppose it's fitting when every other chapter in the Dinner arc got split in two that "Dessert" would be as well lol (though I think part 2 for this one would be titled "July 15, 1689" as a sort of kickoff for the chapter titles of the next arc, which are all dates, and a callback to ch. 1).

Anyway, I must sleep now but I will say, we are getting there and once I'm not actually braindead I should have a sharper sense of what is left to write before ch. 21 is ready to post, especially now that I've accepted the inevitable into my heart that it's a two-parter lol since two-parters sort of free me up to not get as obsessive around word length and intra chapter arc.

#maggie's writing progress #1689 fic

[thedawningofthehour]

Is there a schedule you have for writing and posting chapter? Do you write each scene as it happens in the story or the more important ones first? How do you plan whats 'enough' for a chapter, and when its ready to be posted?

I think you guys have way more confidence in me than you should, lol. My meter for whether the chapter is ready to be posted or not is 'will I die of embarrassment if I post this now?' And still half the time I throw it out, shut my laptop, and immediately take my sleep meds so I can be unconscious during the 'oh my god they hate me' period that follows every posting. No that doesn't go away with experience.

But for real, it's kind of on a case-by-case basis. Most chapters, once I'm done writing out the 'first' draft, (which isn't really the first because I'm editing from the moment it leaves my fingertips) then I estimate how much work it'll need before I feel okay posting it. It's usually 1-3 days. I'm not super happy with this method because it means that the last scene I write generally has a lot less editing done, oftentimes only having one round of editing and then the final read-over before I post it. (also, you really should leave the final read-over for another day, preferably two days from when you last looked at it. This goes for academic papers too, you will catch so much)

So at first I was just writing whatever I felt like writing that day. During doth, I generally had two or three chapters open and being worked on at all times. I would bounce around a lot, reorder stuff, think of stuff to add in. This worked because 1) I had a lot written out before even posting, all of the table scenes and I believe through chapter 7 of Leo's POV, and I kept writing while posting those so I stayed ahead for quite some time, and 2) I was writing a lot. Very fast. Now I'm mostly working on one chapter at a time, and maybe I'll have part of the next chapter started if it's something juicy. I liked it better the doth way, but now I feel very pressured (by myself-you guys have been great about it) to get the next chapter out and feel guilty for working ahead. I keep trying to work ahead but I'm just not writing that fast right now. Which isn't a bad sign or anything-that's just how my brain is, it either engages or it doesn't. If it does, I can write 4k words a day easy. And they are good words. Like, most of the table scenes were written like that, and they are mostly unchanged from when I first vomited them out. The biggest change is there was technically one extra table chapter, but there was no point in having it be its own thing so I cut it up and wove the snippets into...I think Table Scenes 3, 4, and 5? But that's really the only major change, besides some changes I made to Draxum in the second table scene because he was coming across even more rapey than he ends up.

I do try to remain in the general vicinity, though. I'll let myself work a few chapters ahead, but I've found that if I skip ahead to the best parts I sort of lose the drive to write the rest of it. Maybe it's not like that for other writers, but it is for me. So as tempting as it is to write out the reunion right now, I have to be content with playing it like a movie in my head when I'm supposed to be sleeping.

As for how I break things up-honestly, more on the 'feel' than anything. I can't even fully explain it sometimes; it's just a gut feeling.

For the most part, I operate on my golden question, which is What Do I Want Readers to Feel? What kind of tone do I want to set for the rest of this chapter? How do I want the readers to feel when they finish? When I edit, I try to look at it objectively and think how the scenes would make a reader feel and how those lead into each other. Sometimes it's meant to be jarring-like the contrast between Leo being emo and Galois living his best life, those are supposed to make you feel a bit of whiplash. Sometimes what Galois is doing in plot A is meant to feed into the emotions you feel with Leo in plot B. (though generally I don't consider either one of them the A or B plot-I guess plot G and L? doesn't have the same ring to it) Storytelling isn't so much telling a cohesive story as it is manipulating the readers into Feeling Something about it. Nostalgia Critic kind of summed it up with The Last Airbender movie. You can have a super interesting story with rich worldbuilding and and deep characters-and if you treat it like a Wikipedia recap, it's going to suck. Likewise, you can have a really dumb premise and get away with it if it's told in a fun way. People seek out stories that make them feel something. So if you're a writer yourself, your main goal is to make your audience feel your story. What feelings those are, that's up to you to decide.

#doth asks #writing shit

[marvels-bitch-boy]

Scarlet Spiders:

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This one is a little shorter but the next ones are longer I promise.

Masterlist , Chapter 3: Cracks in a Web

Chapter 2: The spiders jump

“Hold up, slow down okay… what did you discover?... and how do you know me?” 

“Right… shit” he separated from the man and took off his mask “I’m Degan… Degan King, I don’t exist here…” 

Bruce looked at him like he just told him the secrets of the universe… Okay technically he kinda did, but only one of the secrets. As Degan began to get more and more anxious at his former mentors' reactions his mind began to come up with a plan of escape in case they decided to do something drastic -maybe a small web to the face and breaking open the door would do it. “Bruce!” he snapped his fingers in front of the man's face “Look I know it sounds crazy -actually it sounds insane, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?” 

He gave him the puppy dog eyes that always worked on the man. No matter the disagreement they had as soon as Degan flashed those hazel eyes bruce would fold and give the boy whatever he needed. Sometimes it was a trip in the quinjet that would lead to a lecture from The Captain. Bruce once took him to a concert the night before he was supposed to take the SAT… it was all the way in London, and they made it back in time but MJ had cursed him out for being so irresponsible. 

The good doctor took a breath and sat down on the cold metal chair opposite where Degan had been before. “Let’s say I do believe you…” he muttered something that Degan couldn’t hear. “How would you have gotten here? You’d need something mystical or something so powerful it could power 2 nuclear missiles.” 

“That's the thing,” he scratched the back of his neck and took his previous seat “I didn’t do this on purpose… or even was conscious when it happened” at least he didn’t think he was. It all happened so fast. He heard a large sigh come from outside the door and perked up at it. “You can come in, I’m not gonna do anything” he stared at the door while bruce looked confused at the boy. Seconds later it opened up and in came Tony with a bag of chips scrunched in his hand.

“Okay, Spider number 2… I don’t really believe you,” he leaned back against the wall and motioned to the suit that Degan was wearing “Looks like my tech, you steal it?” 

Degan rolled his eyes at the remark “no, my Bruce and I made it together… You were away with your kids and Pepper for the holidays”  he gave the man a smirk after he noticed the smug look on his face disappear “oh. Are you two not together here? Sorry” he forced a frown though his eyes gave away the grin it was covering up. 

“No we are… but like you, my kids don’t exist here. -Unless you count the other spider, he’s much nicer to me”  This made Degan scoff. 

“Well, when did your spider appear? I’ve been doing this since I was 15, I was working with Bruce since I was 12. I was in high school because Bruce talked me out of leaving early, I lived in the tower for 5 years before my Tony kicked me out… so sorry if I don’t seem so warm and cuddly towards you.” He turned to Bruce and avoided eye contact as the man seemed slightly uncomfortable with the atmosphere in the room. “I think it may have been some kind of dimensional shift. -Like an earthquake, I think the vibrations of each different earth had some kind of sync and I must have just fallen through I guess,” he paused for a second after his ramble and looked like he was thinking extra hard “-okay I guess more like a multiversal sink hole.”  he smiled at Bruce in a way to brush off the seriousness of the situation he was in. 

Bruce bit his bottom lip as he anxiously thought over the last half of the conversation. This boy seemed to know a lot, could handle his own against Tony's sarcasm, and was very determined… as seen by his silent protest to meet with him. “Why did you live in the tower if you didn’t have powers?” Degan's face slightly sunk at the question. 

“I was -um… I was in foster care, my parents split up when I was young. I lived with my dad and he ended up passing away. My mom surrendered me to the state and You discovered me on a tour of the tower,” his smile reappeared as he thought back on the memory “-I snuck away to find a lab, I found you instead. We talked for hours before my teacher realized I was missing and found me with you… she was terrified. I didn’t care that the Hulk could have come out, I had fun with you.”  

Tony's eyebrows raised “Sorry to hear that, but it doesn’t explain why you lived there.” 

Degan rolled his eyes at Tony “I told Bruce about a science fair and explained my idea, he liked it and the day of, I saw him walk into the school gym looking like a fish out of water.” He looked back to Bruce and smiled a very warm and thankful smile “Got first place, and a new home” He knew that this wasn’t his Bruce, but he still felt indebted to him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get home. My girlfriend is probably worried sick” He tried to think of his own MJ, worried and terrified of whatever could have happened to him, standing in the cold outside of the theatre. Instead, all he could see was her and that boy kissing, the boy who frankly was wayyy less attractive than him! 

—

Yeah! I mean seriously! Without me on this earth did her standards really fall? And I guess Tony is an ass in every universe. At least Steve doesn’t appear to be all you know… dead, I wonder if he died and came back like my Steve. Wait. Did my Steve come back? I keep forgetting these things.

—

“Look, Degan… I’m sorry to say this but we currently have no way of getting you home. The only theory right now is to wait for another one of those multiversal sinkholes… to well open up again. I’m sorry” The solemn and guilty face that Bruce held while delivering this news to him only made his stomach twist and turn into different knots. At this point, his intestines felt like the rope from a marina. He held his head in his hands and thought about the millions of possibilities that could happen between them, he could go through another one of those sinkholes and end up on another completely different earth, or he could fall through all of existence and completely disappear. Hell, he could fall right back into his own universe but come back thousands of years into the future. He was not going to pull a Captain America. 

Standing up he began to walk to the door but Tony got in his way and held a hand to his chest. “Nope, not going anywhere second spider.” Degans face becomes exasperated “I just want some air… please?” 

Tony looks towards Bruce with eyebrows raised and only gets a sigh and shrugged shoulders. Moving his arm off the boy decked out in spider gear he takes a step to the side. Degan walks forward and his heart begins to pound. The walls felt suffocating and the doors to the outside was in his sights but they felt miles away. He sped up and eventually, he was sprinting towards the doors. The air hit his face and it felt like he was finally able to tell the difference in the air since he got here. Looking up towards the sky even the stars seemed different. His mind seemed to feel as different as the stars in the sky, as the ground beneath his feet, and the people he once considered his family. He was alone, in a place that was no longer his home. He looked at his hands and his feet that remained in his suit. The suit that seemed to be the only thing he had from his home. The fence. His mind dragged his eyes to it, and within a second he made up his mind. His feet hit the ground over and over again as they propelled his body forward. Taking a leap he seemed to almost be in flight as he soared over the metal and concrete fence that had towered over him. 

Hitting the ground running and going in any direction he could. Making his way through trees and bushes, he slipped his mask on as he ducked branches that threatened to take out his head. The night lit up and he was able to see even clearer than before. Running with his navigation off was a challenge but he was able to get the compass up and running, he began to find a way back towards the city. 

—

Okay… so, do I still trust Bruce? Absolutely yes. Tony? Hell no, that man has made me trip over myself in battle eight times. I was not going to stay in that room with him. And staying in that building was only making my spidey sense feel more like a stomachache. I do have to say I do reach the city… but I also hate the events that I’m going to tell you next, not because they are embarrassing, or they are more filled with action.  It was my first day of school. 

#Scarlet Spiders M-B-B #M-B-B #marvel #mcu #x male reader #oc #marvel OC #mcu oc #Scarlet Spider #Degan King #Michelle Jones #Peter Parker

[themoomoorn]

Scarlet Blaze Salt Mine Highlights Because I Feel Like It(tm)

There's going to be so much petty salt that you'll probably need to get your blood pressure checked. Enjoy!

EDIT: Finished Scarlet Blaze, so I added more images. Part 2 is here.

The Sun Should Have Never Set on Our Empire(tm)

Somehow they made Faye but even worse. And unlike Faye, Monica is a garbage unit. Seems hard to pull off in a Musou game, but her spell list is a mess, as are her stats, and her personal skill is even worse.

They tried to erase her wanting to kill Rhea, but then she still says she wants to kill Rhea anyway. But devs said she's happier and nicer guyz.

Lorenz has siblings now I guess. Note that in his Lysithea Support, Hubert also mentions having a brother and a sister. but he's still the eldest. So why was he stuck to Child No. 9 again???

Labrunda was found in the Stockpile of Convenient Sacred Weapons That Exist Now(tm).

Not only does she still belittle the guy and think him unworthy of her time like in Houses, but come Chapter 14 (providing you kill Byleth's disaster dad), she apparently genuinely was upset that he betrays her. But then again, he happily licks her feet on Golden Piss, so meh.

...am I supposed to feel something right now

I'm beginning to suspect that the Koei devs were pissed that Byleth the Local Churchgoer was more popular than Edelgard.

Aegir has claim to a stretch of sea that doubles up as their trade route to Morfis. This specific trading relationship is also mentioned in one of the books that shares details about the Empire's territories.

Claude: "BUT FODLAN HATES FOREIGNERS AND THE MEANIE CHURCH SCREAMED AT THEM TO NEVER INTERACT WITH OUTSIDERS Now shut up Dimitri and let me raid your treasure vault you're only being ignorant of my customs."

Only Edelgard's feelings are allowed to be hurt, remember?

Also, whomever calls Byleth a block of wood again should probably take a look at Shez on SB, because calling SB!Shez a block of wood would be an insult to wood.

There's so much disturbing dehumanization of the Nabatean characters (and Byleth by extension), but sure, Arval's soooo sympathetic because he cares about his War Boys, I guess. Oh, and he denounced Thales! What a good lad! /s

Duma take the wheel

Cry about it

Look, I know a macaron is technically a type of cookie, but can't you just call it a goddamn macaron!? Bear in mind that this is the same game that conflates coffee with teff, and the localization actually made a good change by just calling the stupid drink coffee.

I murderkilled Byleth's disaster dad for this go-around and Byleth tips off Claude about...something. Of what, I don't know, but it makes Claude opt for an ill-fated betrayal. He lays it on thick with Byleth, and while Edelgard may get an extra chapter and a marginally better outcome by letting Walmart Greil live, the "what-if...ing..." if you will, is played up the hardest with Claude, which is really saying something considering the original game. And honestly, the what-if-ing does make a level of sense with Claude...but then, you have aspects of him that have nothing to do with Byleth at all perverted by the narrative, as detailed in this post.

Like seriously, even with something like having to murder a half-sibling who repeatedly says to your face that you're a mongrel who deserves to d*e looming over you, like...instead of making something potentially interesting, they derailed him so badly. Honestly, I feel for his Japanese VA struggling to get a good read on the character.

Anyway, end rant.

Even Byleth thinks he's laying it on thick.

I feel like this alleged duress of signing a pact with the Empire would've landed better if it actually was done in the span of days or even weeks, but GW and SB both state it took about four months, which would've been well after any dust settling from Shahid's second raid of the Locket.

Claude, the country you rule has like...almost zero culture.

Sigh.

No shit.

Fuck off, Claude.

Pictured: A "commoner's revolution designed to overthrow an opresuve sistum"

...seriously, why does this dude hate the Nabateans as virulently as she does? It's actually pretty ironic - folks will haw about Dedue or Catherine having no minds of their own, but it's Hubert who's really the most mindless one of all. He mostly lacks the rich inner lives and backstories the other two have.

Sylvain, 90% of the time, is C-Tier. 10% of the time, like right now though? SSS-Tier. Absolutely brutal. Wish we had even more of him.

YA THINK!?!?!?

Because I couldn't be bothered (and because the only Deer with exclusive Eagle Supports/incentives are Lysithea and Lorenz), I only got Shez whining about Claude betraying Egg. Most of the other Deer have unique dialogue doing the same. It's kind of sad how little most of them think of Claude, but then again, he can be a massive dick.

TBC Since I hit the image limit!

#few3h diskhorse #3nopes #egglegard #clob von riggles #garbage #its kind of astounding how they crafted some actually cool lore and then try to say that its actually bad lore #also imperialism good because cute girl #scarlet blazed