#He was prepared to;especially since he likes the familiarity. What he did NOT anticipate was Kiri; Shin; and Toga also being up to clownery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haitani-bruvz · 11 months

Text

FAMILY AFFAIRS

Chapter 3

First Meetings: Mikey

previous part

Shinichiro x Reader, Mikey x Reader, Izana x Reader

DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Chapter preview: Introduction part 3 of 3. Reader's first time meeting Mikey.

Series TW: Yandere, smut, murder, noncon/dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, pseudo-incest (reader is considered a sibling but not blood-related), physical abuse, emotional abuse, mentions of child abuse and neglectful parents, ages of characters are shifted around a bit (Shin is younger)

July 25th, 1998 No amount of caution could have prepared you for the blazing fire that was Manjiro Sano.

The sun beamed down warmly as you found yourself once again at the local 7/11, a familiar destination since meeting Shinichiro just a couple of weeks prior. It had become a tradition of sorts, as he had been visiting almost every day, taking you out for various adventures, both alone and with Izana. In the past week, you had explored new places, shared laughter, and made memories you were sure would last forever. As you walked together, savoring the cold treats he purchased, a sense of anticipation filled your heart, wondering what exciting stories Shinichiro had in store for you this time.

His voice echoed in your mind as you recalled his stories, the teen often boasting about his remarkable fighting skills and the numerous bike enthusiasts who sought his expertise. While you weren't foolish enough to blindly believe his words, especially if the countless bruises littering his body and Izana's teasing callouts were anything to go by, you couldn't help but be captivated by his ambitions. He spoke with confidence, painting a picture of a future where he would open his own motorcycle shop- a place that would be a safe haven for delinquents and outcasts of every shape and form.

But despite the charm in his spirited narratives, a sense of unease crept into you.

Darkness was hidden beneath the surface, an unsettling feeling that lingered within. Shinichiro, who had always been accepting and kind, seemed to be holding back more and more with every interaction. There were moments when his eyes seemed distant, as if he was purposefully concealing certain details, hints of shadows lurking in his tales.

The very thought perplexed you, for he had always been open and forthcoming. Yet subtle clues in his demeanor whispered of secrets. Confusion washed over you as you questioned your own instincts. Why did you feel this discomfort, this uneasiness, when everything between the two of you had been nothing short of genuine warmth and friendship?

Being with the teen had Shadows dancing at the edge of your consciousness, teasing you with half-formed memories that refused to fully materialize. For instance, you had never touched a motorcycle before meeting Shin, let alone ridden one, so why did the weight of the helmet and the scent of the rubber feel so familiar? Why had you known exactly where to place your hands and feet?

And it wasn't like it was an isolated experience either- an invisible thread connected him and Izana, binding them together in shared secrets that eluded your grasp.

Since Shinichiro started visiting more frequently and your relationship grew, Izana's restlessness intensified. His already short temper seemed to shrink even further, lashing out at anyone within a 6-foot radius. Finding a mere five minutes of solitude became a rare luxury as Izana's grip tightened around your throat, dictating your every move with an iron hand. Even Kakucho, who was usually lax on the 'rules' when Izana wasn't around, took the new role of personal guardian extremely seriously. The only reason you found yourself on this ice cream outing today was because the tanned boy insisted on your absence from the orphanage, claiming that he had personal matters that he didn't want you in attendance for. Despite the challenges and secrecy that surrounded him, you couldn't help but love and be profoundly grateful for his presence in your life. Through it all, he had been a fiercely loyal and caring friend, offering protection and support when you needed it most.

You often speculated on what his life might have been like before the orphanage. Did his parents die like yours and Kaku's did? Was he abandoned like some of the other kids were? Whatever happened, you know his reluctance to speak about it only further fed into your belief that it was his pain that forged the protective shield around him. It was easy to convince yourself that his overbearing nature stemmed from a place of genuine concern and care. After all, it was only natural for someone who had experienced loss to be fiercely protective over those they held dear. With each passing day, you couldn't help but construct a narrative that lent understanding to Izana's behavior, almost as if his undisclosed past justified his actions in the present. In doing so, you unknowingly excused the uneasiness you sometimes felt, seeking solace in the belief that his intentions were pure and his overprotectiveness was a testament to his love for you.

Lost in thought, your attention only snaps back to reality when Shinichiro calls your name a second time. Raising your gaze, you become aware of how long you've been staring blankly at your spoon. Offering him an apologetic smile, you silently hope that he didn't catch onto your deep distraction.

"Sorry, what did you say?" You ask him, trying to sound as casual as possible.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Shinichiro's lips as he spoke, his eyes filled with anticipation. "Well, my birthday is coming up in a couple of days, and I wanted to know if you'd like to come over to my house for dinner. It's going to be a small gathering, just my grandpa and a few others," he explained, a hopeful tone in his voice.

You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest at the invitation, realizing that it would be your first time attending a real birthday party. It was a chance to be a part of Shinichiro's special day, to share in the warmth and celebration of his family, something you never got to experience in your own home.

"I'd love to come, Shin-nii! Thank you for inviting me," you replied, a huge smile brightening your face.

But then, Shinichiro's expression shifted slightly, a shadow of hesitance crossing his face. "There's something you should know, though," he said, his voice taking on a tone of concern. "Izana… well, I'm sure you've noticed that he's not very comfortable around people he doesn't know. It stresses him out, and I don't want him to feel uneasy during the meal." He paused for a moment, turning his gaze to search your expression before continuing, "That's why I think it's best if we keep it a secret from him."

Conflicting emotions stirred within you. On one hand, you understood where Shin was coming from. His genuine concern for Izana was apparent; He knew the boy much longer than you had, and you didn't want him to feel overwhelmed or forced into a situation that made him uncomfortable. But on the other hand, a small part of you questioned the true intentions behind Shinichiro's request. Was it solely for Izana's well-being, or was something else hidden beneath the surface? He never had seemed to have a problem bringing Izana around others before,so what made this time so different…?

Your mind raced with thoughts and doubts, unsure of the best course of action. You looked at Shinichiro, searching for answers in his face, but found only sympathy and determination.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" you hesitantly voiced your concerns. "I think Izana could relax and have fun if we were there with him. Me and Kaku could maybe help if…" you trailed off before speaking again, "I don't want him to think that he isn't fun to be around."

Shinichiro's eyes held yours, his gaze unwavering. "He has his own way of handling things, (Y/N). I just thought it would be better for everyone if we kept this separate from him. It's not that I don't want him to be there, but sometimes… sometimes it's easier to avoid unnecessary conflicts," he explained, his words carrying a weight you couldn't quite grasp.

You slowly nodded as you took in his words.

Gratefulness filled Shinichiro's smile as he responded, "Thank you, (Y/N). I knew I could count on you. It means a lot to me, and I promise you'll have a great time, my grandpa makes a mean Hayashi rice!."

August 1st, 1998

The days leading up to Shinichiro's birthday had flown by, and you had successfully kept the secret hidden from Izana and Kakucho. Surprisingly, it hadn't been as challenging as you had initially expected. Both boys were serving some form of punishment following your last outing with Shin, and the two were kept separate from the rest of the kids. You didn't know the specifics, but apparently, they had snuck out and gotten into some trouble with a few middle school kids.

As for Shinichiro, you hadn't seen much of him either since that eventful day. However, a brief encounter occurred when he visited the orphanage workers to discuss Izana's current situation. During that fleeting moment, Shinichiro approached you and explained that Izana and Kaku would be on what the orphanage referred to as 'isolation' for the next two weeks. Additionally, Shinichiro mentioned that he, too, wouldn't be around as frequently due to pressing matters that required his attention at home with his grandpa. Nevertheless, he reassured you that he would be present on his birthday to pick you up and take you to his house.

The news of Izana and Kaku's isolation, along with Shinichiro's temporary absence, left a void within the familiar dynamics of your interactions. The orphanage felt eerily quiet without their presence, and it made you realize just how much you had grown accustomed to their company. Though uncertain about the exact nature of their punishment, you couldn't help but hope that the two boys would learn and grow from this experience.

During these rare moments of solitude, you devoted yourself to creating a special gift for Shinichiro. It was a keychain with the letters "S&S" for Shinichiro Sano, messily intertwined with beads and string. You envisioned it as the emblem for his future motorcycle shop, hoping to tease him about how it was far cooler than the corny name he had initially chosen, "Black Dragon Bikes." A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you imagined his reaction to the playful jab.

As the day of Shinichiro's birthday arrived, a mix of anticipation and nervousness fluttered in your chest. You stood by the window, watching for his arrival. The gift was safely tucked away in your pocket, ready to be presented to him. Thoughts swirled through your mind, wondering if he would like it, if it would be meaningful enough.

Moments later, you saw Shinichiro approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face. He exuded an air of excitement, and your heart swelled in response. Stepping outside to greet him, you held out the carefully crafted keychain, the metal gleaming in the soft sunlight.

"Happy birthday, Shin-nii," your voice shyly uttered as you extended your hand, presenting the carefully crafted gift. "I made this for you. The 'S&S' can be a logo for your motorcycle shop, way cooler than 'Black Dragon Bikes,' don't you think?" A playful glimmer danced in your eyes as you teased him, awaiting his reaction to your light-hearted jab.

A wide smile spread across Shinichiro's face as he accepted the gift, his eyes lighting up with appreciation. "Thank you, (Y/N). This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "And hey, don't be too hard on Black Dragon Bikes. It has its own charm, you know?" He chuckled, gently nudging your shoulder playfully. "But you're right, 'S&S' has a certain ring to it. Maybe I should consider rebranding in the future."

The playful banter between you and Shinichiro always brought a sense of warmth and comfort. It was moments like these that reminded you of the genuine connection you shared. You couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness, knowing that your small gesture had brought him joy on his special day.

Just as you were about to climb onto his bike, a movement caught your eye. Glancing up towards the second-floor window of the orphanage, your heart skipped a beat. There, partially concealed behind the glass, was Kakucho's scarred eye, watching you intently. A jolt of unease ran down your spine as a wave of realization washed over you.

Your gazes met just as the engine roared to life, and in that fleeting moment, the weight of the secrets you were hiding from Izana and Kakucho crashed back into your consciousness. Doubts and questions flooded your mind, and a wave of guilt washed over you. Were you betraying the trust and bond you had with both Izana and Kakucho? The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't shake the unease that settled within you.

Shinichiro, unaware of the silent exchange between you and Kakucho, revved the engine of his motorcycle, breaking the tension that had settled upon you. His voice carried a hint of excitement as he called out to you, "Ready to go?" Swallowing hard, you forced a smile and nodded. Pushing aside the unease that had taken hold of you, you climbed onto the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around Shinichiro's waist.

The ride to Shinichiro's house was a short one, lasting only about 30 minutes, but it felt much longer as your anxious thoughts consumed your mind. As the wind rushed past you, you couldn't help but wonder if Kakucho had somehow found out about your secret rendezvous with Shinichiro. What would he say to Izana? Would he be disappointed in you? And what about Izana himself? Would he be angry or hurt by your actions?

As Shinichiro and you arrived at his house, the motorcycle's engine cut off, casting a hush over the surroundings. Shinichiro took the lead, his steps confident and familiar, while you followed closely behind. Approaching the front door, subtle signs of a well-lived home caught your attention. Your gaze wandered, taking note of the pairs of shoes neatly arranged near the entrance. Among them were larger shoes that undoubtedly belonged to Shinichiro's grandpa, a reminder of the elder's presence in the household. But what caught your attention were the smaller pairs of shoes, seemingly for kids your age.

The weathered welcome mat greeted you as you crossed the threshold into Shinichiro's world. Guiding you inside, Shinichiro steered you through his living room, "Please have a seat on the couch," Shinichiro gestured, his voice warm and inviting. "I'll just park and lock my bike. I won't be long."

As you settled onto the couch, the tantalizing aroma of savory food wafted through the air, hinting at the delicious meal being prepared in the kitchen. However, your attention remained fixated on the impending conversation with Izana.

"I just hope he isn't mad at me," you thought, your fingers nervously tugging at the loose threads on your t-shirt. The uncertainty gnawed at your thoughts as you anxiously awaited Shinichiro's return from locking up his motorcycle. The seconds felt like an eternity as your mind raced with possibilities and apprehensions.

Interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared, your attention snapped to the source of the disturbance.

Approaching you with a serious expression was a young boy, his short blonde hair contrasting with his striking black eyes that closely resembled Shinichiro's.

The boy wasted no time sizing you up, approaching you with a question that caught you off guard.

"You're new," he said, his tone challenging. "You here to fight me?"

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words. People at the orphanage had often avoided you due to Izana's intimidating presence, so this direct interaction was unfamiliar territory.

Before you could respond, Shinichiro entered the room, swiftly diffusing the tension. "Hey, what did I tell you about picking fights with people?" he scolded the blonde boy, playfully tapping the back of his head. "This is YN, a friend from the orphanage. YN, this is my little brother, Manjiro."

The revelation that Shinichiro had an actual little brother left you momentarily stunned.

The blonde let out a hum, suddenly very invested in your presence.

'Orphanage?" he eyed you suspiciously before continuing, "So do you know Iz-",

Shinichiro quickly interrupted him, shooting him a warning look.

"Don't even start."

It sent a shiver down your spine, but Shinichiro quickly shifted his demeanor, offering you a reassuring smile. Manjiro pouted at the interruption but agreed to put the challenge aside. He extended his hand to you, addressing you as "yn-chan" and requesting you to call him Mikey instead.

He's always like that with new people," Shinichiro explained, ruffling your hair reassuringly. "Don't take it personally. Grandpa should be back with Emma soon, so why don't you two go play and get to know each other better? We'll have that Hayashi I promised when they're here."

With a nod of agreement, you allowed Mikey to drag you to his room. He informed you that Emma was their little sister and that although she was 'kind of a weirdo' (Mikey's words, not yours), she was cool. He enthusiastically shared stories about a toy plane Shinichiro had given him and his adventures with his friends, promising to introduce you to them in the future. While you were interested in meeting his friends, you weren't so sure about this Baji kid. Mikey's stories didn't paint him as the friendliest, and you had a feeling Izana wouldn't approve of you befriending someone who seemed to have an even shorter fuse than he had.

Mikey's enthusiasm was infectious as he bounced on his toes, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, YN! Let's have a little spar. I want to show you how strong I am and how I can protect you!" You hesitated, recalling Shinichiro's warning not to engage in any fights. Besides, you weren't exactly the most skilled fighter, and the idea of going up against someone as energetic as Mikey seemed daunting. "I don't know Mikey, Shinichiro said no fighting," you replied, trying to reason with him. But Mikey's persistence knew no bounds. He continued to urge you, his determination shining through. "Aw, come on! Just a friendly little match. It'll be fun, I promise!" he insisted.

Reluctantly, you gave in, unable to resist his infectious spirit. "Alright, just a friendly spar," you conceded, realizing that Mikey wouldn't let it go until you agreed.

The two of you found a suitable spot in his room, preparing yourselves for the impromptu match. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on your limited combat skills. However, before you even had a chance to gather your bearings, Mikey sprang into action. His speed was astonishing as he swiftly closed the distance between you. Within moments, he had pinned you down, his laughter filling the air. "Gotcha!" he exclaimed, his playful grin widening before suddenly stilling.

You couldn't help but laugh along with him, realizing just how quick and agile Mikey truly was. Despite being caught off guard, you couldn't deny the excitement of the friendly tussle. "Okay, okay, you win," you admitted, acknowledging his victory and waiting for him to move so you could get up.

A few tense moments lingered as Mikey continued to hold you down, his grip tightening with each passing second. You tried to break free by wiggling underneath him, hoping to alleviate the pressure but his hold remained strong.

"Okay, Mikey, you're strong," you uttered, your voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Now, let me up. I don't want to play this anymore."

But his gaze remained fixated, almost vacant, as if he couldn't hear your pleas. It sent a shiver down your spine, the fear slowly creeping in. You felt trapped, uncertain of what was happening and how to make it stop. Just as panic started to rise within you, you heard Shinichiro's voice calling from downstairs. "Mikey, YN, come down! Emma and Grandpa are here!"

The sound of Shinichiro's voice seemed to break the hold over Mikey. His expression shifted, returning to the mischievous boy you had come to know. He grinned and shrugged as if attempting to play off his previous behavior. "Heh, just messing with you, YN-chan. Let's go meet Emma and Grandpa!" he said, his voice lighthearted once again.

As the day progressed and you spent more time with Mikey, his company grew more enjoyable. His humor and kindness were endearing, and he proved himself to be a skilled teaser, constantly poking fun at Shinichiro just as much, if not more, than Izana did. The room was taken aback when he surprised everyone by offering you the last slice of cake, a gesture he had never made, according to their Grandpa.

Yet, beneath the surface of his cheerful demeanor, a nagging feeling tugged at the back of your mind. There was an underlying darkness, an unsettling presence that seemed to emanate from Mikey. While he assured you that the earlier sparring incident was all in good fun, a part of you couldn't shake off the fear it had instilled. It was as if he wasn't entirely himself during that moment, and it left you on edge.

Spending time with Mikey throughout the day, you couldn't help but draw comparisons between him and Izana. While Izana had an intimidating presence and a fierce determination to shield you from harm, Mikey possessed a different kind of charm. He shared the same striking black eyes as Shinichiro, which brought a sense of familiarity and comfort, but there was something in the depth of Mikey's gaze that reminded you of Izana. It was as if a flicker of intensity and underlying darkness lurked behind those eyes, hinting at a complexity that mirrored Izana's enigmatic persona.

It intrigued you how Mikey could possess Shinichiro's lightheartedness yet harbor a depth reminiscent of Izana. It was a unique blend of contrasting qualities that made him even more intriguing. His playful nature and mischievous spark were juxtaposed with the hint of an untamed spirit and an unwavering determination. It became evident that he was deeply connected to Shinichiro and, as his little brother, must have inherited some of the qualities that made Shinichiro so cool in your eyes. If Shinichiro trusted and cared for Mikey, perhaps befriending him wouldn't be a mistake. After all, Shinichiro had become a significant part of your life, and his judgment now held weight in your decision-making process. You found solace in the fact that Mikey, being related to Shinichiro, had the potential to be a reliable ally and friend.

As these thoughts swirled in your mind, you decided to give Mikey a chance. Despite the nagging feeling of something hidden beneath his cheerful facade, you acknowledged that everyone had their complexities. Just like Izana, Mikey might have his own struggles and dark moments, but that didn't mean he couldn't be a good person or a true friend.

If only you had realized that comparing others to Izana as a measure of goodness was a flawed approach, perhaps you could have protected yourself from the impending dangers that awaited you.

a/n: I hope you all enjoyed it! Sorry for the long wait, life has been so crazy lately. New chapter is already in the works so please wait for it <3

TAGS @wildartist @rosemary108233 @devils-blackrose @teesissy @jcrml @soushswag @inurmom00 @spookychaossuit @shinslover @stalkergirl512 @miyuaditt @lurvelybones @kthyyxz @missanonymous1999 @kokonoiscoconut @ang3liclov3ly @josuke8 @bunn1rabb1t @gata-preta08 @chocomori @whyulyinggurl @Imbiafandbored @kazusbby @jcrml @the-grimm-writer @tamaki-jiki-reblogs @kookieszme @Berriesandcrem @bloobewy @thetruepair @madness-puppy @spookychaossuit @caramelcandescence @pongster @lostsomewhereinthegarden @k1nkyshoto @luno-614 @a-cult-leader @imbiafandbored @lovlessbish @kenmasbimbo @hnmashji @valeriinee @mel-star636 @mikeyaki

Please comment or message me to be tagged 💚💚

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #shinichiro x reader #izana #izana x reader #tw.yandere #tw.dark content

397 notes · View notes

wen-kexing-apologist · 30 days

Text

Bengiyo Queer Cinema Syllabus

Not to sound repetitive but, I had a busy couple weeks, but finally had a second to return to @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus. I am currently working my way through Unit 4: Heartbreak Alley, the totally light-hearted, definitely not agonizing section of the syllabus where I get to watch countless acts of violence be committed against queer people. Thank fuck I have Lesbians waiting for me at the end of this unit. The films in Unit 4 are: Bent (1997), Strange Fruit (2004), Boys Don’t Cry (1999), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Parting Glances (1986), Philadelphia (1993), The Living End (1992), Holding the Man (2015), Jeffery (1995), and Boys on the Side (1995).

Today I will be talking about

Parting Glances (1986) dir. Bill Sherwood

[Run Time: 1:30, Available: tubi and fubo, Language: English]

Summary: As Michael and Robert, a gay couple in New York, prepare for Robert's departure for a two-year work assignment in Africa, Michael must face Robert's true motives for leaving while dealing with their circle of eccentric friends, including Nick, who is living with AIDS.

Cast:

John Bolger as Robert

Richard Ganoung as Michael

Steve Buscemi as Nick

Well, I have to say this was very much not what I was expecting for the first AIDS related movie of the syllabus. After some pretty hefty violent deaths of queer characters in the first half of Unit 4, I was very much anticipating the heart wrenching tragedies to continue immediately once I hit the AIDS epidemic portion. But Parting Glances very much subverted my expectations of what I was walking in to, because honestly…so much of it was lovely.

It’s not that tragedy is not a part of this movie, it is, it’s just hidden under the layer of friendship, community, and love that feels like the core theme of the film. I am thinking about the party at Joan’s and how much happiness and celebration was happening there, with community abound, and yet how Michael kept telling people they should call Nick because he would appreciate it, showing just how much Nick has lost of his own community since his HIV/AIDS diagnosis.

I really loved how real these relationships to one another felt, the way that Michael and Robert were playful with each other, the way that Nick sat on Michael’s lap so casually for a few minutes when Michael cooked him dinner, I loved the conversation Robert had with his ex-girlfriend, the young and hopeful queer boy who wished to live forever. I just loved watching the queer community be a queer community.

Even in the moments that get a little dour, where Michael gets especially weepy with Nick, those scenes did not make me sad, did not destroy me the way other films in this syllabus have, because that is just grief. Grief is a mighty and terrible thing, but I find beauty in it as well. I find beauty and loveliness in the fact that those tears came from Michael finally admitting to Nick that he loved him, that Nick got to hear himself that he was loved, especially when so many people seemed to have fallen away from him after his diagnosis. I find comfort in the conversations about death that Michael and Joan have together, because those are conversations I’ve had, they feel familiar, they feel like a natural part of life, perhaps they should not have to feel those points so soon, but Nick himself is right, living forever is the only thing none of us can do.

I really loved that we saw Nick when he was at a stage in his illness where he was simply being careful, but was still full of life, energetic, that he was able to be a support system for Michael and was not only being tended to. We know what is coming, but we are not made to see it. I was really in to what the film did with it’s use of ominous backing track, that Nick could hear it, that it felt like the progression of his illness, that it felt like a sense of impending doom, a cloud that hangs over Nick.

Throughout a lot of this film I found myself thinking about The Inheritance Part One & Part Two, a play written in 2016 based off of the book Howard’s End by EM Forster. I saw this play a few years back and was lulled in to a false sense of security that this would not be a play about AIDS because it was set in the relatively modern day with a focus on younger queer characters, but ohhhhhhh how wrong I was. Towards the end of the first part, we hear a story from a character named Walter, an older gay man that lived in the same building as the main characters, and he recounts the story of his life, how his husband, Henry, built a farm outside of New York city for the two of them to live in…right around the time that AIDS started decimating the area. How that distance still was not good enough for Henry so he would leave on business trips, because his fear of catching AIDS was so strong.

Walter tells the story of when he went back in to the city for the first time, and ran in to a friend he used to know, who had acquired AIDS and was on the brink of death. He talks about how when Henry was away, he brought that kid to the farm Henry had built to hide from AIDS, and Walter cared for that boy until he died. Walter talks about doing that again and again and again and again, dozens of times, he would go in to the city, bring a friend back home, and care for them until they passed.

^[sidebar: I very much do not like Robert]

Part of the play ends with Walter being asked what it was like at that time, Walter asks the main characters to name someone they know, they give a name, he says “they’re dead. Give me another name, he’s dead”. For what felt like minutes, name after name after name is called and name after name after name is dead. When I saw that scene I broke down in the theater, I cried for the entirety of the walk back to the train station, I was brought to the brink of tears at the thought of that scene for a month after I saw the show.

I mention this because it was all that I could think about while watching Robert and Michael interact with one another, while seeing this plot unfold. Robert fleeing New York while Michael stayed to care for his dying friend. Knowing that Walter and Henry stayed together after all was said and done, after Henry had stopped running from reality, and the death rates had slowed; then seeing Robert decide not to go to Africa, and how Michael did not show any signs of planning to break up with Robert knowing, despite knowing how Robert felt too settled, how Robert had chosen to go, despite knowing that Robert was running from loss, and running from being a support for Michael when the love of his life finally dies.

So despite the fact that Parting Glances didn’t evoke the same feelings, though I felt like overall it was a relatively upbeat, uptempo, gentle film, the current underneath it all, the dying underneath it all, the tragedy is right there but it is just out of reach.

Favorite Scene

I think my favorite scene is when Joan and Michael are laying in bed together, holding stuffed animals at Robert’s going away party while they just casually talk about death and dying. It just felt very much like a conversation I have had with my best friend on multiple occasions, especially lately because we've had a number of deaths happen in our lives recently. And yes, my friend and I both match the type of conversation part this scene, and also the beating each other up with stuffed animals part of this scene.

Obviously we do not spend enough time with the other characters at the party to know exactly what is going on in their lives, and there is not doubt many if not all of them have lost loved ones to AIDS, but we know that Joan and Michael are really the only two people who go and visit Nick, and it feels so symbolic of the weight that they are shouldering caring for their dying friend to have the only two people who have not cut themselves off from Nick be sitting together, in another room away from all the other gay attendees, discussing, speculating, joking about death.

Favorite Quote

We all know the real right answer is: “Straight men are jerks. Gay men are jerks. Straight women are jerks. That leaves lesbians and they are off in their ivory towers laughing their heads off at the rest of us. I should’ve been a dyke”

But I am going to go for the more serious:

“...look at the others, waiting, wondering if some innocent moment of pleasure long past can set them up with the ultimate form of [German word my subtitles did not state]... I’d like to stage a piece in which all of the performers are people who are terminally ill, can you imagine the intensity, the concentration, the purpose”

This is said off-handedly in a conversation between Joan and a heterosexual male artist who was attending the party. I put it here for two reasons: a) the first half is a very succinct commentary on the state of the queer community (at least who were at the party) and feels like general commentary about the movie’s premise as a whole. Especially because Nick talks about how he didn’t realize how long the gestation period of HIV was, and by the time he started taking protective measures it was already too late. b) because the second half is just the most pretentious, absolutely mindless, careless, and shitty thing to say to someone who is actively losing a friend to a terminal illness. This fucking hetero artist came in to a room full of queer people and decided that dying people would be great to put in to his next project for ~The Vibes~ and I love that comment so much because first, it shows how much he Does Not Get It, and second because of how much disgust is baked in to Joan’s “Excuse me” as she leaves before he can finish his thought.

Because to say that to someone who is watching loved one after loved one after loved one die before their eyes is an absolutely disgusting thing to do (in my opinion).

Final Score

8/10

Up next, Philadelphia (1993)

#bengiyo queer cinema syllabus #queer cinema syllabus #parting glances #parting glances the movie #parting glances (1986)#unit 4: heartbreak alley

25 notes · View notes

the-narrow-street · 3 months

Text

New Beginnings

Jumin nervously adjusted his tie with his unoccupied hand for what must be the tenth time since putting it on, holding a modest bouquet of flowers in the other. He had considered traditional red roses, perhaps more fitting for the occasion, but had ultimately settled on a smaller array of delicate flowers. Cheerful bright yellow petals interspersed with small white blooms of gypsophila. He felt intuitively that these flowers suited your humble and gentle nature, and he felt reassured upon learning some meanings behind them. According to the florist, gypsophila can represent innocence and new beginnings. What could be more appropriate to congratulate you for your first party with the RFA?

And the added meaning of undying love was one that he would keep to himself if questioned about what inspired his choice.

He imagined what your reaction might be when he would give them to you. He suspected that your bright smile would match the flowers, and just the thought of it was accompanied with a feeling of warmth. As heat rose to his face so did his hand rise with it, back to his tie in anxious habit.

~~~

Jumin spotted you in the crowd almost instantly, his gaze guided toward you as if possessing an internal compass. He felt relief from his anxious anticipation at the mere sight of you. His shy smile would be indication enough to anyone that knew him of his feelings towards you. But he was oblivious to the clues his expression betrayed; smiling around you was as involuntary and natural as breathing.

He made his way to you - feet almost walking on their own, as though a string were pulling him - when the sight of Zen approaching you grounded him in place. His smile faltered and his breath caught in his throat. The bouquet of roses Zen presented you was returned with a smile and the color deepening on your face.

With a shaky sigh, Jumin released the air he had been holding and turned away.

“Mr. Han?”

Jaehee’s voice came with the reminder to steady himself. With practiced ease he fell into his meticulously-trained exterior.

“Ah, Assistant Kang. Good timing. Would you mind setting these aside for MC? I’m sure she has enough going on at the moment than to worry about where to put more flowers.” His voice came out more strained than he had hoped.

“Of course, Mr. Han. Some of the guests have been asking if you had arrived yet. It seems that many of the guests that you suggested were eager to attend.”

~~~

To say that you were nervous would be an understatement. It was your first time coordinating an event like this, and for an organization that you had only just joined! You hadn’t even met most of the members yet, although you felt close to them already after countless conversations in the chatroom or over the phone.

You stood among the guests, feeling relieved that there was such good turnout. You had already spoken to Jaehee, who was especially helpful when it came to greeting the attendees, and had asked her if Jumin had arrived yet. You hoped that you didn’t seem too eager to meet him. When she said that he was on his way, anticipation and nerves filled your chest.

As you scanned the large room for him, you were met with a different set of familiar eyes. Zen quickly approached you and you felt that his pictures on the messenger didn’t fully prepare you for his looks.

No wonder he can’t stop talking about how handsome he is.

Anyone that looked like he did would be intimidating if you hadn’t come to know him on the messenger. From the very beginning he was welcoming and trusting toward you. His praise and terms of endearments that flowed all too easily caught you off guard at first, but you were glad to see other sides to him. His kindness towards the members of the RFA, his insecurities, and how hard he works at what he loves. But somehow you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that his warmth and affection was not reserved for you alone. Or at least, it came too easily. Despite the bashful smile his affection elicited from you, it was too familiar too quickly.

But still, he had become a dear friend to you, along with the other members. So when he handed you beautiful roses along with his charismatic smile, you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks.

“Jagiya~ It’s so nice to finally meet you in person! Congratulations on organizing such an amazing event. All your hard work paid off!”

“Thanks Zen, it’s so nice to see you in person, too. The roses are beautiful - you didn’t have to…”

“Are you being shy? So cute~”

“Don’t tease me!” With a laugh, you added, “Oh, have you seen Jumin by the way?”

His expression soured at your question, annoyance at the mention of Jumin’s name instantly evident across his features.

“No, I haven’t seen the Trust Fund kid yet. He better not have brought his cat with him.”

Recollecting some of the conversations in the chatroom between Jumin and Zen, your heart sank. Zen’s willing misunderstanding of Jumin was something that you deeply wished could be resolved.

“Don’t worry, Jumin promised that he wouldn’t bring her. Um, I’m going to put these flowers somewhere safe, okay? Thank you again, they’re so pretty.” You replied to Zen, trying to remain light-hearted. With a smile, you headed through the reception hall to one of the back rooms where you were keeping some of your things from the party set-up.

On your way in, you nearly bumped into Jaehee in the doorway.

“Hi, MC. I just left some flowers from Mr. Han for you in there.”

Your heart swelled. “For me? From Jumin?” She replied with a nod and a small smile, and you thanked her shyly as she left.

A wide smile spread across your face as you set down the roses in place of the bouquet Jaehee left behind. As you admired the arrangement of flowers, you thought of Jumin. Did he pick these out personally for you? What expression would he have made had he handed them to you himself? You felt a pang of regret at that thought. Why hadn’t he given them to you himself?

“MC?”

Your eyes widened at the deep yet gentle voice that came from behind you. A voice that you had come to know very well this last week or so. It brought instant comfort and joy.

Holding the flowers even closer to your chest, you turned around to finally meet him, previously contained excitement and happiness now bursting forth through your wide eyes and smile.

~~~

His voice came out hesitant and quiet despite his efforts at remaining level-headed. But even so, it had the desired effect as you turned towards him.

And there you were, your radiance overpowering that of the flowers he chose for you. Just as he had imagined it. He knew from your profile picture that you had a brightness to you, even believing he could hear it in your voice as you laughed at something he said during one of your many phone calls. But the full force of seeing it in person was enough to steal his breath away.

“Jumin!”

He could almost fool himself into believing that your expression towards him was different than it was with Zen. That it held something more affectionate.

“Jaehee said that you were looking for me…” It was all he could manage, shock and uncertainty still knotted in his mind.

“Hm? Oh… yeah, I was. I was really looking forward to meeting you, Jumin.” You admitted with a bashful smile, averting your eyes in embarrassment.

His lips curved up to mirror your own.

“I was very much looking forward to meeting you too, MC. I see you received the flowers. I wanted to congratulate and thank you for organizing such a wonderful party.”

“Yes, they’re so lovely Jumin. Thank you. Although I was just wondering why you asked Jaehee to leave them here instead of finding me…”

As your voice faded with uncertainty, his glance towards the roses sitting behind you provided enough of a hint.

“But seeing you now makes it feel like I received them from you! Thank you again, I love them.”

His expression softened at your subtle reassurance. Your kindness and understanding towards him was more than he had ever known.

The music you had organized for the event grew loud enough to reach the back room where you two stood, signaling an invitation for the guests to dance. Recognizing the waltz, Jumin summoned courage, hoping to compensate for his earlier missed opportunity.

“I don’t usually dance at these events, but perhaps I could begin to, if you would be willing to join me?” His hand left its spot at his cufflink, instead reaching out to you in a timid invitation.

And as you set the flowers down to instead place your hand in his, he found the warmth that had been missing from his life.

“I would love to, Jumin.”

#jumin han #mystic messenger #jumin x mc

14 notes · View notes

lavisenri · 3 months

Text

winter days | daniel ricciardo

Charlize was preparing to hit the ice at the enchanting skating rink; her sense of style was effortlessly translated into a winter wonderland aesthetic. Donned in a chic ensemble, she sported a knee-length, fur-trimmed cream coat that exuded sophistication, keeping her warm and adding a touch of glamor to the frosty atmosphere. Underneath, a fitted turtleneck sweater in a muted lavender hue complemented the winter palette, hinting at a subtle playfulness. The blades, polished to a glistening silver, hinted at their readiness to glide gracefully across the icy surface. Accessorizing with a matching lavender knit beanie adorned with a faux fur pom-pom, Charlize maintained playful elegance. A pair of cashmere-lined gloves, allowing her to maintain warmth without sacrificing agility, completed the ensemble. Her hazel eyes sparkled with anticipation and joy as she laced up her charming lavender skates, a perfect fusion of practicality and feminine flair.

Soon enough, she gracefully stepped onto the ice, her attire seamlessly blending with the winter scenery, not realizing a pair of eyes locked on her or someone was already there at the Ice Rink. Daniel hasn't been out for long today. He could have managed to snag the time he wanted on the ice before everyone else started rolling in. It was early, though not unbearably like it had been earlier.

Even though it was a Saturday, he woke up at 5 am, drove to the school, and collected a few things from his classroom before driving towards the community rink. It was bigger and far grander than their school rink, so Daniel preferred it. Even when he and his team met a few days later than preferred, they got to work. It wasn't long before the rink became more unbearable to practice in as it became lively with nearby residents. Therefore, Daniel called it an early practice and waved his students back home.

Now, he was carefully cleaning off his skates, sliding the protective covers onto the blades. He never did much on the ice anymore, not since what happened. Daniel was perfectly content with teaching and watching rather than doing. Of course, he still got out on the ice with his team, but more often than he'd like to. He didn't quite understand what was stopping him- a lack of pride in his natural talent. Maybe.

Daniel raised a hand to rub his face, feeling his stubble brush against his fingertips, before he dropped his hand again, back to his side. He glanced down at his clipboards and resorted to sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of the rink barrier. He had been putting off so much work, especially as of recently. His parents would be visiting, and he was too prepared to put everything in tip-top shape for them. Daniel couldn't manage to sleep, either. He wasn't a man to stress- but God, his parents managed to make him do somehow just that. His eyes hadn't left the people on the ice, and he didn't realize he was dazed off until he even took notice of what he was looking at. A cute lavender-colored beanie, topped by an equally cute little pom-pom. He examined the woman, watching as she slid onto the ice. Was she alone? God, it was still early in the morning. Good to get in extra practice, he supposed.

The crisp winter air added a touch of invigoration to the atmosphere, and she gracefully glided across the ice, showcasing a combination of skill and poise. As she traversed over the ice, her keen observation led her to notice Daniel on the other side of the rink. Intrigued by the familiar face, she recognized him as the coach of the local hockey team.

With a graceful movement, she executed a series of spins, her eyes occasionally flickering toward Daniel. Sensing his momentary distraction, she acknowledged him with a friendly wave, a subtle yet warm gesture conveying recognition and goodwill. As she approached, Charlize's lavender beanie added a touch of whimsy to the scene, contrasting with the serene backdrop of the rink. Her skates glide effortlessly, a testament to her comfort on the ice and her innate sense of style. When she reached Daniel, she offered a warm smile. "Good morning! It's always a pleasure to see someone appreciate the ice early in the day," Charlize greeted, her tone carrying a genuine warmth. "How's the morning treating you?"

He couldn't help but become impressed, honestly. He had always been entranced in that kind of skating- where you show off, with God knows how many names for how many tricks there have been. Hell, his mom was a figure skater. He grew up watching things, yet it never failed to amuse him. That's another reason he always went to the rink when bored, even when he didn't skate. It was the place he enjoyed being most, really- it wasn't as silent as his home was, but he was left alone here, for the most part. Of course, Daniel was okay with interaction- in fact, he prefers it over being alone. Again, that was a reason why he was rarely at home. He only stayed home when Spencer often showed up at his door. He immediately snapped out of his thoughts when the woman waved at him and slid towards the barrier. He blinked once, twice, before glancing around with slightly wide eyes as if surprised that she was talking to him specifically. Daniel turned his eyes back to the pretty woman again before he had to think about what she had said. He opened his mouth a split second later, a wide grin spreading.

author notes: first time doing this and I would like to thank my friend as we had rp this before I decided to make this into a narrative because why not? ahahaha anyways hope this was good @burberryfilms @lvrcpid @luvvtrent

#formula 1 #f1 #daniel ricciardo #ᝰ.ᐟ vi vision #hockey coach au

9 notes · View notes

unpredictable-probabilities · 7 months

Text

Azul Ashengrotto of Royal Sword Academy || Chapter 7: Carpet Musings

Summary:

Jamil runs into a familiar face when he and Azul return to the party, leading into one more late-night excursion out among the sea of stars.

Word Count: 3,768

They make it back to the ballroom with no problems. No one seems to have noticed that they've been gone.

"Oh! Hi, Jamil!" Kalim appears in front of them holding a half-eaten cupcake. He looks at him and Azul, and his face brightens. "I'm really glad you're friends with Azul! How have you been?"

"Wha— Kalim!?" Jamil exclaims, surprised. He's almost completely forgotten about Kalim, but now that he's standing before him, a part of Jamil wonders what he should be feeling. Happy to see an old friend? Resentful to be reminded of the most prominent chain around his life?

Then he thinks on Kalim's question.

"I've been... doing pretty good." He responds, sincere. "I was wondering how you've been doing, too. Did you lose your old phone or something? Because I'd been trying to contact you but you weren't picking up or responding."

"Oh! Um, yeah," Kalim averts his eyes and scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "I misplaced my phone a few days ago, and I only found it this morning behind the piles of stuff in my gym locker. Sorry! I should have texted you back but I got too excited about the ball preparations."

Silver appears beside Kalim with two cups of hot chocolate; he hands Kalim one of them. "Here you go, Kalim."

He looks at Jamil and gives a polite nod. "Good evening, Jamil Viper." He looks at Azul. "And… Azul Ashengrotto? Did I say that right?"

Azul smiles politely and holds out a hand. "You did. Good evening."

Silver takes his hand and shakes it. "I'm Silver."

"Oh yeah!" Kalim pipes up. "I met Silver here earlier and we'd been hanging out since, he's a super cool guy."

Silver smiles, a genuinely glad one that Jamil had never seen before from the stoic Diasomnia student. "I think you're really cool, too."

"I'm glad you're making friends with the NRC students." Azul smiles at Kalim.

Jamil watches Silver in mild surprise before nodding at the both of them. Though Silver's the type to say little, he's not surprised Kalim's gone and befriended him. Kalim would wish to befriend the whole world if he had it his way, and Silver's not as abrasive or distrustful as many of his Diasomnia peers.

"How'd you two meet up?"

"When everyone was going to the dance floor earlier, I saw that Silver was just standing in the corner," Kalim says.

"Sebek had been pulled along by his freshmen friends onto the dancefloor, and Lord Lilia and Master Malleus asked me to join them, but I politely refused," Silver adds. "I'm not especially talented in dancing."

"But I told him that's not what it's about at all!" Kalim says. "So I asked him to dance with me and I taught him the waltz and a bunch of other dances that me and my classmates do sometimes!" he adds proudly.

"It's admittedly more fun than I had anticipated," Silver smiles at Kalim. "And you are a very good dancer."

"You are, too!" Kalim grins, looking like he wants to throw his arms around Silver.

"Master Lilia and Lord Malleus…" Azul says. "You're a knight, Silver?"

Silver nods. "Yes, I'm one of two knights assigned to watch over Lord Malleus in NRC, though Master Lilia had insisted that Sebek and I enjoy ourselves for tonight."

"I should have known from your posture and demeanor," Azul says with a friendly smile. "But Mister Lilia is correct, you should enjoy yourself this evening. There are several knights-in-training among my classmates, but tonight they are not on duty either."

Silver tilts his head. "Are you training to be a knight as well? Your physique and demeanor are similar to those classmates that you mentioned. Kalim introduced me to them earlier."

"Ah, I go through the training, yes. Though I am still… quite undecided on it as a matter of career path," Azul says politely.

Jamil frowns in contemplation. "Have you always wanted to be a knight, Silver?"

"Yes," Silver says without hesitation, subconsciously standing up straighter. "Ever since I was a child, I have watched many of the knights training in Castle Draconia, and I asked Master Lilia to train me alongside Sebek. It is a position that I hold with the highest honor."

"That's admirable to hear," Azul says, and Jamil could hear the wistfulness in his voice.

"So you… never considered anything more than that lifetime of servitude? You'd rather live your whole life following your sovereign's footsteps until the day you die?" Jamil persists.

A very subtle frown creases Silver's forehead. "Knights are not slaves, Jamil Viper. We can do other things with our time and are free to leave the service whenever we want. I chose this path because I want to help ensure the safety of Lord Malleus. Apart from being the last of the Draconia line, he is like a brother to me. Making sure he is safe does not feel like serving a sovereign, but protecting the well-being of family."

Jamil relents, quietly backing off. "Alright, it was your decision, at least."

The silence between the four of them has become palpable and nervous laughter bubbles up from Kalim.

"Aaanyway..." he attempts. "It's good to see you again, Jamil! It's been a while, huh? How are things at NRC?"

Jamil nods. "Things are… pretty okay, honestly. Azul tells me that you've been holding up on your own here so far in the meantime. It's honestly impressive that you haven't asked me for help a single time since you got here."

"Oh, well, yanno, hah-hah…" Kalim laughs weakly. "Everybody here's just so helpful already, I didn't wanna be a bother… Ah! By the way, speaking of friends, guess who I brought from the Scalding Sands!"

"Your animal friends?" Jamil answers.

"Yeah, and even better!" Kalim whistles.

Zipping past the room, having been hanging along the tapestries and blending in, the Magic Carpet swoops into the fray.

"Wha-- YOU BROUGHT OUR NATIONAL TREASURE HERE!?"

"Dad says it's fine," Kalim reassures him. "But now that we're reunited, we should totally go on a joyride! Silver, Azul! What do you guys think?"

"Kalim, we're gonna get in trouble!" Jamil says, mortified.

"No, we won't! Carpet needs his daily flight, isn't that right, buddy?"

The rug waves one of its tassels in acknowledgment.

"It certainly sounds interesting," Silver says. "And I must admit I'm curious to try it. Is such flying allowed here?" he asks Azul.

"Such flying objects are allowed on school grounds," Azul considers. "Though to be perfectly honest, the thought of flying hundreds of feet above the ground on a piece of cloth does not exactly reassure my nerves," he chuckles.

"Awwww come on, Azul, please?" Kalim says with his signature puppy eyes. "You never wanna ride Carpet with me, but we have Jamil and Silver with us this time! We'll totally make sure we're all safe! Right, Jamil?" Kalim looks at him hopefully.

Jamil makes a long-suffering sigh, but deep down since the observatory, he's wanted to take a flight among the stars. "Well, of course. As long as I'm there, nothing bad's gonna happen to anyone. You're free to still say no, of course, but there'll be no danger of falling while I'm around."

Azul chews his lower lip thoughtfully, his eyebrows furrowed. Then he takes a breath and smiles. "All right, let's fly," he says to Kalim.

Kalim gasps. "Yay! Let's go!" he grabs Silver's hand and takes off for the door leading to the hallway, whistling for Carpet to follow. He glances over his shoulder to Jamil and Azul. "Come on, guys!"

Jamil huffs and shakes his head but a smile was already growing on his features. "Looks like we're not returning to the party yet. Come on."

And he takes off after Kalim and Silver.

Azul runs after them, and soon enough they're all in a clearing in the garden, and Kalim is standing proudly on top of Carpet who is hovering a foot aboveground.

"Here we are! I'll be your pilot for tonight!"

Silver steps forward and places one foot on the rug, testing his weight on it. "Fascinating, it feels solid as if it's right on the floor."

Azul, meanwhile, remains rooted on his spot. He doesn't say anything, but Jamil can see that he's gone a little pale.

"Yeah! It's super comfy!" Kalim tells Silver, oblivious to Azul's reaction. "Do you wanna sit up front with me, Jamil?"

Jamil shakes his head. "It's all right. Silver can sit with you. I'll hang in the back with Azul."

He puts a comforting hand on Azul's shoulder to remind him that he's there. He leans close, concerned. "Hey, are you sure about this? You really don't have to, you know?"

Azul relaxes a little and gives him a smile. "I'm sure, don't worry. I am a little scared but... I want to see the stars up close. Promise not to let me fall?" he says playfully.

"You have my word," Jamil playfully says back. "Now come on."

He holds Azul's hand and gently tugs him to the back of the carpet, keeping him secure as he sat down with an arm around his back.

"Is everyone ready?" Kalim says excitedly from the front.

"I am," Silver nods beside him.

"Yes," Azul replies curtly, starting to tense up again.

"Let's go," Jamil announces, his arm holding Azul close to him as the upward rush begins. The carpet zips fast into the sky, like an excitable little puppy dog going out for a walk. The ground shrinks behind them and Jamil watches as the heavens expand before their eyes.

The carpet steadies, and they begin to fly evenly. Kalim laughs merrily in front, playfully nudging Silver who ends up chuckling as well.

Jamil glances at Azul to see his reaction.

Azul seems to have instinctively shut his eyes tight when they flew up, and he still hasn't opened them. His jaw is clenched and his hand is clutching the side of the carpet.

"Hey…" Jamil whispers to him. "The worst is over now. Look."

Azul releases a shaky breath, then he slowly opens his eyes, looking up at the sky.

His lips part in surprise, and his eyes scan the stars before them. This close, they can see the different colors of the twinkling lights, shining so brightly and clearly that it's almost like they can reach out and touch them.

A smile appears on Azul's lips, his eyes twinkling almost as brightly as the stars. "It's beautiful," he breathes.

"Ah... Yeah." It takes considerable effort for Jamil to finally tear his eyes away from Azul. "Do you know any constellations around here? They're a lil' different in the Scalding Sands, but that one's stayed the same." He gestures over at a bright distant star to the west. "That's the first point which connects to what looks like a crescent moon hanging low—the Heavens' Smile, indicating hope for things to get better someday… or that whatever's up there finds our earthly dilemmas terribly amusing."

Azul chuckles, his shoulders relaxing.

He points to a bright star above them, shining brilliantly with a blue hue. "That's the highest point of The Gentle Unicorn's horn, reminding us that magic is a force for good, and should be used as such. Though admittedly I always have a hard time seeing the unicorn," he tilts his head and squints at the sky.

"I can kinda see it," Jamil mutters, also tilting his head. "But its body is really tiny."

"How far are we allowed to go, Kalim?" Silver asks, noticing that the carpet has begun to fly out onto open sea.

"Oh, hmm," Kalim glances behind them, as if only just noticing how far they've gone already. "We're good as long as we're still on school grounds. Um, Azul…?"

"RSA property extends until that lighthouse on that island," Azul points to a glowing light in the distance. "The fishing and sailing classes are held there," he explains to Jamil.

"Sailing?" Jamil glances down to the area below. "That sounds fun. It's too bad NRC doesn't have that on account of us being so high up from the sea. Is this a mandatory subject?"

"No, it's just an elective," Azul says. "But a lot of students are interested because swimming is part of the training, and the waters here are always nice to swim in. Me along with other merfolk are student assistants, we're there to help make sure everyone is safe, especially on high tides and when the waves are strong. That's not mandatory either, we just signed up to get extra credit. And it gives me permission to go to that particular beach even when it's closed when there are no classes, and I use that time to swim by myself."

"Oh... When you swim, do you swim in your regular human form or..?"

"Usually, in my human form," Azul replies. "But the effect of each dose of shifting potion only lasts for ten days. I have to return to my merform for a few minutes before I take the next dose, otherwise I'll fall ill. I dive deep into the sea and change into my merform underwater, then I swim around for a bit to stretch my limbs before taking the shifting potion again."

"I see," Jamil mutters, trying to imagine Azul in his merfolk form. What could possibly be so deterrent about it? "I know there are also shifting potions for the opposite to come true—for humans migrating into merfolks—but they're pretty rare cases. Is there anyone you've known growing up or around here who's done just that?"

"I have a classmate who takes such a potion," Azul says. "His family is descended from merfolk, though he's physically human now so he has to take the potion whenever he wants to visit his relatives underwater."

"Huh. Interesting…"

"All right, Carpet! It's time to turn around!" Kalim exclaims, and in a sharp dive, the Carpet swoops around the lighthouse and down low, close to the ocean waves.

In the downward motion, Jamil instinctively brings Azul close to him in a protective manner.

"Kalim," Jamil admonishes.

"W-Whoops! Sorry!"

"Oh, um," Azul says when Jamil still hasn't let go of him even when the carpet is flying evenly again. "I know you're not entirely comfortable with being physically close to people, Jamil. So don't worry, I'm fine now," he says gently, though Jamil can't see his face with how close he's holding him.

"Huh? Oh." Jamil quickly retracts his hand, embarrassed. "Sorry, force of habit."

A part of him almost wants the carpet to keep moving wildly. He brushes the thought away and glances out at the side, gazing at his reflection from the water below.

"Have you flown often on this carpet?" Azul says beside him. "I could never look down the side like you're doing now, no matter how beautiful the moonlight on the water looks," he chuckles.

"Not too often, but I'm used to it since Kalim drags Carpet out of its treasury every opportunity he gets." Jamil responds, leaning down to graze the water with the tips of his fingers. "You afraid of falling off?"

Azul takes a tentative look down at the water. "I suppose right now, not really. Because we're low enough and above water, which means I wouldn't break every bone in my body even if I fall." He mimics Jamil and gingerly leans down to trail his fingers over the water. "Water feels so different from the surface," he muses before sitting up properly again. "Have you ever fallen before? From anything?"

Jamil glances up at Azul, confused. "Fallen..? I have… but I usually make sure to learn after the first drop so it never happens again… because it'll be up to me if someone else falls off." He pointedly glances at Kalim. "I can imagine how scary it must be for a merfolk to experience gravity for the first time..."

"We had some briefings about it before we surfaced, but yes, it was scary," Azul says. "At some point I wondered if because my eight legs are compressed into just two, it's making it more difficult for me to balance. In hindsight, I think Knight Class has made the whole thing easier for me. We were taught how to wield weapons from a horse, then jump off and roll to safety before climbing a wall. Compared to that, walking is extremely easy," he says playfully.

Azul looks down at the water again. "I've never tried diving before. Others are scared of it because the water hurts them upon impact, but I don't think the same thing happens to merfolk. Perhaps I should try it the next time I swim. It might help with my fear of heights."

"I'm sure there are some nice cliff-diving spots around the island," Jamil perks up. He isn't sure if Azul would want any company to such an excursion, so he holds his tongue, but the idea of cliff-diving sounds cool.

"Cliff-diving?" Kalim exclaims. "That sounds fun! Do you think we'd be allowed to take a trip to do just that?"

Jamil huffs out a sigh, kind of relieved that Kalim's letting the impulses talk for the both of them.

"Perhaps we can file an application for it to be a field trip of sorts," Azul suggests. "Or we could just do it as a group hangout on a weekend where we're all free, assuming our schedules sync up." He turns to Jamil. "Would you be interested in such a trip?"

Jamil blinks. "You're okay with swimming with the rest of us? It sounded like it was supposed to be a new form of training for yourself."

"I can still train while hanging out with you, right?" Azul smiles. "Do you like swimming?"

Jamil feels himself smile back. "I'm decent at it, I think. I certainly wouldn't be drowning, at least. Why? You got any swimming techniques you could teach me?"

"Ah, I'm not sure about that," Azul says. "Even underwater I was never a particularly good or fast swimmer. Maybe you can teach me instead," he adds playfully.

"Really now? Looks like we'll have to wait and see who's teaching who when the time comes, then," Jamil says. "Maybe you can even invite any other merfolk you know. Once Floyd catches wind of this, I'm certain he and Jade are going to come along."

Azul raises an eyebrow. "You want to invite Floyd?" he asks in amusement.

"Not Floyd, but Rielle. I think he deserves a break, too… Considering how close those two have gotten, though, Floyd's definitely gonna hear about it…" Jamil grimaces. "Ah! But that reminds me, did you know? About the two of them? Being close recently? Did it come as shocking news to you? Or was that just me?"

"It was shocking, yes," Azul agrees, looking surprised himself. "Rielle told me that Floyd asked him to be his date to this ball. I didn't pry, and Rielle for some reason seemed shy about it. But he seems to really have fun with Floyd, so I'm happy for them."

Azul's phrasing reminds Jamil that Rielle said something similar to him after their conversation; the prince had said that he's happy for him and Azul.

"So… Do you think that they're a thing now, too?"

"Rielle hasn't explicitly said anything about it, so I don't want to assume," Azul says carefully. "But, honestly, I'd never seen him be like that when talking about someone before. Did you know he turned down multiple people who asked him out to this dance? He said he didn't feel like going with anyone, but when it was Floyd who asked him, he immediately said yes."

"Could Floyd be hypnotizing him somehow?" Jamil asks in bewilderment. "I really wonder what was the moment that clicked for him that made him decide that the sociopathic eel-guy who probably does arson for fun is someone he'd like to kiss. Look, he can deny it all he wants, but it's so clear that he likes him if you, his friend, can see that he…"

He trails off, looking back at Rielle's words at the start of the party.

"Azul told me that he has had his own realizations, too,” the prince had said. "...I’m happy for you both.”

If Azul thinks Rielle likes Floyd, and if Rielle thinks similarly for Azul with Jamil, does that mean that... Azul's got feelings for him?

Damn.

Azul laughs good-naturedly, oblivious to Jamil's thoughts. "You seem really invested in this. Are you that close with Floyd?"

"...I guess you could say that," Jamil mumbles, flustered and wishing he's got his hood with him right now, glancing away before the moonlight reveals anything about his face.

"For all his… eccentricities, Floyd has always been straightforward. Manipulation isn't his style. Now if we're talking about Jade on the other hand…" Azul says playfully, then he notices Jamil's expression. "... Are you all right? Are you really upset about Rielle and Floyd?"

"What?! No!" Jamil's reaction was instantaneous, snapping back to Azul. "I just— What were we talking about?"

"Jamil…?" Kalim asks, having never seen him in this state before.

"Perhaps we should get back to the party. Jamil hasn't eaten anything yet and the high altitude might have gotten him a little dizzy," Azul smoothly says.

"Ah, that would make sense," Silver agrees. "It has been hours since we had last eaten at NRC. Fortunately Kalim and I had dinner before we flew here."

"Oh! Totally! Hang on, Jamil!" Kalim quickly but carefully headed to the garden where they had come from.

Azul is looking worriedly at Jamil, evidently not believing that it was just dizziness.

Jamil avoids his gaze as the carpet circles its way back to RSA's grounds.

After it lands and they've returned to the party without any further incident, Kalim and Silver take the both of them to the buffet table.

Meanwhile, Jamil's still stuck in his mind, now wondering how to go about this information.

He likes Azul.

Azul apparently likes him back.

What now?

Does he like Azul that much to make a move?

Does he actually want to pursue anything?

He's never had to consider things like this. He never really liked anyone romantically before. He always had other priorities, too many worries to consider.

Yet, from an objective perspective, he always thought that it would be nice–having a partner that would care about him as much as he would for them.

Is Azul that person, though?

He's not sure…

But how can he ever be sure?

<- Chapter 6

Chapter 8 ->

(Masterlist)

17 notes · View notes

gedeonburkhard · 7 months

Text

FROM GEDEON

Award-winning actor Gedeon Burkhard stars opposite Brad Pitt in the much anticipated Quentin Tarantino film Inglourious Basterds. Burkhard plays American Jew Sgt. Wilhelm Wicki who serves as a translator for Pitt’s character. Some of his other film credits include: The Last Train (directed by Joseph Vilsmaier), Melodies of Spring (directed by Martin Walz), Golden Times (directed by Peter Thorwart) and Making Up (directed by Katja V. Garnier).

Burkhard is the recipient of the Best Actor Bavarian Award for his work in Acting It Out and also received a Romy for Best Actor for the acclaimed his television series Detective Rex, which went on to sell to over 140 foreign territories. In addition, he also helmed a successful television series Alarm for Cobra 11 that aired in 120 countries.

Burkhard’s success in film and television has catapulted him onto the main stage in one of the most highly anticipated movie releases of 2009, Inglourious Basterds. IFQ caught up with Burkhard on the eve of the film’s premiere at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival.

IFQ: You play opposite Brad Pitt in the much anticipated Quentin Tarantino film Inglourious Basterds. Without revealing too much about the film, can you tell me about your character Sgt. Wilhelm Wicki?

Gedeon Burkhard: He’s a Basterd! One of 8 Jewish American, Nazi killing predator’s, in a world gone awry. Especially for Jews! As far as his history goes, he was born in Austria, immigrated to America in the early 1920’s, became American and was one of the first in line to go fight when the US entered the war. Aside from killing and mutilating, he also translates for Brad Pitt’s character, Lt. Aldo Raine.

IFQ: You are an award-winning star of consecutive top-rated television dramas in Germany and over 120 territories worldwide, as well as starring in many films in German-speaking territories. How did you cross over and score a supporting role in Tarantino’s film?

GB: Ten years ago in Vienna, I come home from a night shoot and find one of the greatest Directors of our time, fast asleep, on my couch. As it turns out, my girlfriend at the time, Emma Hickox, and Q are old friends. Actually, one of the characters in Inglourious Basterds is named after her late father and director Douglas Hickox. One year later in L.A., Quentin tells me about this character he has me in mind for and then, very generously, gives me eight years to prepare for the audition.

IFQ: How did you prepare for this role? Were you previously familiar with the old school WWII epic films?

GB: When I was 11, working on a miniseries dealing with the rise and downfall of the Third Reich, I was confronted with the subject matter for the first time. Since then I have played a Jewish prisoner picked from a concentration camp to act in Jud Süss (Anti-Semitic propaganda film) and a Jewish boxer fighting for his family’s survival on the way to Auschwitz. So since a lot of research was already in place, I mainly concentrated on playing around with knives, handling guns, slitting throats, scalping and so forth. As far as WW II epics go, any existing gaps where closed by Q’s weekly screenings during preparation.

IFQ: What was your initial reaction when you first read the script? While shooting, did Tarantino make everyone stick to the script or was there any room to improvise?

GB: My initial reaction was, God I can’t wait to see this! And, who do I have to kill to be in it?! I’m not quite sure about the order. Who, in his right mind, would want to change a Quentin Tarantino script? You’re just happy to be one of the lucky f***’s chewing his dialogue. But Quentin is the easiest going Genius I ever met and he is always open for someone bringing something to the table.

IFQ: How was the experience working with Tarantino himself? What’s his working process like on set?

GB: A film set is always the realm of organized chaos and to me, Quentin is King Arthur and Merlin wrapped into one! So being one of his chosen Knights, I naturally look to him for direction and guidance, which he readily gives. But Quentin also likes to let you run free in his magic castle; his only demands are devotion to the cause, passion and concentration.

IFQ: What was it like working alongside such a diverse cast: Brad Pitt, Eli Roth, Samuel Jackson, Maggie Cheung, Julie Dreyfus and Diane Kruger? What was your rapport like with them on the set?

GB: I never had the pleasure of meeting Maggie or Samuel. Quoting Quentin, Brad’s not a star; he’s a planet! And still he manages to be nothing but inspirational and a pleasure to be around. He is a wonderful colleague whose huge talent just drags you along, making you be the best you can be. Eli is a great buddy, but on set he was also our boss, Sgt. Donnie Donowitz! So if you mishandled your weapon, on or off camera, he chewed your ass out! Julie and Diane are both gorgeous, inside and out! I didn't have the honor to work with Julie but Diane, who I worked next to for weeks, was an endless fountain of entertainment and laughs.

IFQ: How do you think the German population in general will react to the film? Will they be able to separate history’s past and appreciate it as an entertaining film on its own merit?

GB: Quentin has managed to deal with this difficult subject matter in a way that gives everybody in his right mind the possibility to access and partake in the story and the ones that don’t, can as far as I’m concerned go F*** themselves!

IFQ: You have worked on both German-speaking and American films. Can you compare and contrast working on German-speaking films/TV and the USA/Germany co-production film Inglourious Basterds?

GB: Crew size and Production value. Aside from that, everybody is trying to do the same thing: make a good movie!

IFQ: Can you tell me how your educational background has allowed you to play both American and German speaking characters?

GB: Being an impossible child and always getting kicked out of schools was, not at the time but in retrospect, a good thing. It led to me being educated, first in England and then in America, giving me the gift of two languages and two cultures.

IFQ: Since Inglourious Basterds will premiere at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival, will we see you there?

GB: Since I have never been to the Cannes Film Festival, you can bet your ass you’re going to see me there this year!

IFQ: Any upcoming projects?

GB: I just finished shooting a film called Mazel. It‘s a Jewish take on My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

#gedeonburkhard

2 notes · View notes

pepperonibread · 8 months

Text

Across The Great Divide: Chapter Six - We Were Strangers

Read on ao3 or below the break Chapter Index

The lyrics flowed from her with ease, but the fact that she was actually sitting there, singing at his request, still made her slightly uneasy. Nonetheless, she pressed on, her voice carrying emotion. "The things I read in those blue eyes, they seemed so calm and strong. We were strangers then, but we weren't strangers long."

a/n:

I left out Nia in place of Kirans brother. Don't ask me why, I just write things. Yes, I did casually post two chapters in one day. I have a problem. May end up posting another one tonight too. And I'm almost done writing the whole thing too - which is hard especially since the whole game hasn't been released yet. But it is what it is at this point.

Enjoy!

Trudy and Zeke had dedicated themselves to the research and data they had discovered in the lab. Their efforts eventually yielded a breakthrough, leading to the creation of a special soil blend that held the potential to support tree growth in the harsh desert environment. Kiran watched as they tenderly planted the small trees in the designated area, her thoughts drifting to the broader symbolism of their actions. It felt like a reflection of her own journey in Sandrock—starting with small steps and waiting to see if they would bear fruit.

The project quickly garnered the attention of the town, and the excitement was palpable. Trudy affectionately referred to it as the "Little Woods," a title that seemed fitting for the hopeful endeavor. As the baby trees were nestled into the soil, the town buzzed with anticipation, ready to witness the growth that might redefine their lives in the desert.

Sandrock had never seen something quite like this before, and as the town prepared for another celebration, Kiran couldn't help but marvel at the progress they had made. The upcoming ceremony was intended to showcase their unity and determination, with a group photo planned to be sent to the other city-states—a visual testament that they were far from helpless and were actively working to change their circumstances.

Amidst all the excitement and anticipation, Kiran also received a message from her brother, a reminder that almost a year had passed since she left Highwind. News of his impending visit made her heart skip a beat. She wondered how he would find her, surrounded by a new life, new friends, and the remnants of her old self in a place that had once seemed foreign but had now become her own.

In the midst of the preparations for the upcoming ceremony, Kiran found herself engrossed in her work, as was her usual tendency.

It was late in the evening, and she sat cross-legged on her bed, gently strumming her guitar. The music filled the room, carrying her thoughts away from the tasks that had occupied her time.

As the soft melody echoed in the space, the creak of the door pulled her attention from her guitar. Her eyes lifted, fixating on the doorway, her heart rate quickening as she recognized the sound of heavy footfalls drawing nearer. When Logan's figure materialized in her doorway, her fingers stilled against the strings, and for a moment, the air seemed to thin around her.

"Heard you been plantin' trees," he remarked, stepping into the room. His hat was held in his hands—a gesture that surprised her. The fact that he took off his hat upon entering a building wasn't lost on her.

"Yeah," she replied, momentarily at a loss for words. How did he even know that? He walked further into the room, his stride comfortable and familiar, as if he were coming home after a long day. Her thoughts briefly wandered to an imagined world where that scenario was a reality between them.

He placed his hat on her bedpost, and her confusion deepened. His actions felt so commonplace, as though he had done this before, which was both puzzling and intriguing. He followed by hanging his gun belt on the same post, and she couldn't help but watch him, her mind racing with questions.

Sitting at the edge of her bed, he let out a huff, as if he had just endured a particularly exhausting day. Kiran's curiosity got the better of her. "I didn't think you'd actually show up here," she admitted, her gaze meeting his as he turned to look at her, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"I told you to leave your door unlocked," he said, his tone casual. The words sent a thrill through her, and she nodded in response.

"I've been leaving it open for weeks though," she added, still grappling with the surrealness of the situation.

Logan's gaze held hers, a mix of amusement and something deeper flickering in his eyes. The air was charged with unspoken sentiments.

An awkward tension held the moment captive, leaving Kiran grappling with a mix of emotions she hadn't entirely anticipated. The idea of Logan visiting her at night had been a recurring fantasy in her thoughts, but facing the reality of it was an entirely different experience. She searched for the right words, those elusive phrases that might capture the complexity of their connection. Somehow, "I miss you" seemed too straightforward, too raw, for the situation they found themselves in.

Fumbling for conversation, she settled on a different approach. "How was your day?" she inquired, her voice a little uncertain. It was an attempt to break the ice, to initiate a dialogue.

He regarded her for a moment before a hearty laugh erupted from his chest, filling the room with its infectious sound. "Oh, pretty swell, I guess," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes as he reclined slightly on her bed. "And how about you, darlin'?" he added, his tone teasing.

"Pretty good," she responded with a chuckle. "Told Pen to go to hell," she admitted, recalling the earlier confrontation with the self-proclaimed protector of Sandrock. She had been fed up with his antics and had let her frustration show.

Logan's laughter only grew louder, echoing through the room and sparking a genuine smile on Kiran's lips. "Good," he managed to say amidst his amusement. Yet, as his laughter subsided, she noticed a shift in his expression, a deeper intensity settling in his gaze.

And then, his tone changed, a layer of vulnerability threading through his words as he looked at her. "I missed you, Kiran," he confessed, the weight of his sentiment hanging in the air between them.

As the weight of his confession settled in the room, a mixture of relief and vulnerability seemed to envelop them both. Her heart quickened at his words, his admission of missing her touching a chord within her that she hadn't fully recognized until that moment. Still, despite the newfound comfort, she felt a need to dig a little deeper, to understand the extent of his feelings.

"Really?" she asked, her voice carrying a gentle curiosity. The question was a simple one, yet it held a complexity that revealed her desire for clarity. She wanted to know the nuances of his emotions, to peel back the layers of his thoughts and feelings that had been elusive for so long. Her gaze met his, seeking a glimpse of the truth that he held within.

"Yeah, really," he responded, his tone steady and sincere.

"Why?" she found herself asking, her curiosity pushing her to understand the roots of his feelings. He looked at her, his brows slightly furrowed as he seemed to consider her question.

"You're just always full of questions, ain't ya? A man can't miss a woman?" he replied, his words carrying a hint of playful exasperation.

"Well," she began, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "within reason."

He laughed, the sound deep and warm. "So I need a reason now?" he retorted, his gaze locked onto hers.

"Preferably," she responded, her playful tone mirroring his. She wanted to delve into the depths of his emotions, to understand the layers beneath his statement.

"What about Kiran is so interesting to you?" she asked, her fingers idly strumming her guitar as she watched him. The question had been nagging at her, curiosity demanding answers.

"We'd be up till dawn if I began to tell you," he chuckled. He leaned back into the bed, crossing his arms behind his head, his gaze directed at the ceiling as if lost in his thoughts.

"Luckily for you," she countered, her lips curving into a mischievous smile, "I don't sleep." There was a certain comfort in their banter, a rhythm of exchanges that seemed to ease the complexities.

"Well," he drawled, his eyes closing with a sense of contentment. "If you're going to stay up - least you could do is sing if you're just gonna sit there. Better that than you talkin’ my ear off."

Her lips curled into an amused smile, his request catching her off guard. "The big bad bandit wants a lullaby?" Her words danced with a playful tone, a glint of mischief in her eyes. It was a strange role reversal, considering his reputation, but it felt oddly endearing.

"Don't let it get to your head, girl," he responded with a smirk, keeping up his tough-guy demeanor despite the faint amusement that played at the corners of his lips.

"Alright, but I don't particularly enjoy performing in front of crowds," she confessed, her mind already working through the songs she knew as her fingers danced along the guitar strings.

He lifted an eyebrow playfully, his eyes still closed as he lounged on her bed. "My eyes are closed," he reminded her, a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She nudged him with her foot, a mock scowl forming on her face. "Just be quiet," she retorted, feeling a flutter of nerves despite her casual demeanor.

"Tough, but okay," he responded, his laid-back attitude putting her a bit more at ease.

She took a steadying breath, her fingers finding their rhythm on the guitar strings as she focused on the wall in front of her. The room felt both intimate and nerve-wracking as her voice began to fill the space: "You never asked for much, but I loved you just the same. You, with your quiet eyes, and a face without a name. You just stood there staring, as I sang another song. We were strangers then - we weren't strangers long."

As she sang, she felt a shift on the bed, and when she glanced his way, she noticed that he had sat up, his eyes locked onto her. A small, nervous chuckle escaped her as she continued with the next verses. "Now, we weren't strangers long, though we never spoke at all. But in your eyes, I saw you knew - we were heading for a fall - "

The next set of lyrics hit her with a wave of conflicting emotions, and her voice wavered as she sang, the words almost a whisper. "I love you so completely, never thought it might be wrong. We were strangers then, but weren't strangers long..."

Feeling the emotion welling up within her, she deliberately let her fingers slip from the strings, her voice fading away. "I don't remember the rest," she lied, her gaze dropping to her guitar as she tried to mask the turmoil in her expression.

She cleared her throat, a mixture of emotions swirling within her as she shifted on the bed to set her guitar down. Her hands trembled slightly as she ran them through her hair, her heart racing in her chest. The atmosphere in the room had shifted drastically, and the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down her spine.

"Is that how you really feel, Kiran?" His voice broke the silence, and she flinched slightly as she felt his hand on her back. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. The weight of his question hung heavily in the air, and she struggled to find the right words to express herself.

"Kiran?" He pressed, his tone serious and urgent. It was as though he was urging her to be honest, to reveal her true feelings. At that moment, it seemed as if what she had to say was the most important thing in the world, and she found herself grappling with the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

"Yes." She finally managed to say, her voice soft and tremulous. "I - I love you. I think?" The confession spilled from her lips like a secret she had been holding onto for far too long. Her heart raced as the words hung in the air between them, the vulnerability of the moment almost overwhelming. What even was love?

His hand found her chin, tilting her head gently until she was compelled to meet his intense gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into his eyes, feeling as though he was peering into the depths of her soul.

"You think?" He repeated, his voice low and searching. Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of his question pressing down on her. She felt exposed as if he could see every thought and feeling she had been struggling to comprehend.

"I've been thinking about it a lot, actually." She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "So much so that it's nearly derailed something I had with somebody else - and - I mean, I didn't think when I met you - I mean..." Her words stumbled and faltered, revealing more than she had intended. She tried to break her gaze away, but he held her chin firmly, keeping her locked in his penetrating stare.

His voice was calm, his grip gentle. "If it's any consolation, Kiran..." He paused, his gaze distant for a moment as if reflecting on his own thoughts. "I love you too - I think. You're about the scariest thing I've ever faced."

Her surprise turned into a soft laugh, the sound a mix of nerves and disbelief. "Are you comparing me to a monster?"

"No." He said with a faint smile, his eyes holding hers. "I'm confessing my feelings for you. And before you go about askin’ your 'whats' or 'whys' - I don't have any explanation for you other than that." Another pause, and this time, his gaze dropped, as if he were revealing something he rarely acknowledged. "And in some ways, that's the most scary thing."

The admission hung between them, a fragile and profound moment shared in the quiet intimacy of her room.

"Can I ask you a question? Like, an actual one?" Kiran's voice wavered slightly as she broke the moment of intensity, a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity in her eyes.

He relented, releasing the gentle hold on her face and instead intertwining his fingers with hers. "What?" His voice was low, his attention fully on her as he waited for her question.

"What now?" She asked her words carrying a weight of uncertainty. It was a genuine question, one that had been nagging at the back of her mind. The confession of their feelings was a pivotal moment, but it also left her wondering about the path forward. She searched his eyes for any sign of direction, of what might come next.

He looked at her for a moment, a mixture of contemplation and amusement dancing in his eyes. It was as if he was considering his response carefully. But before he could say anything, she found herself continuing, as if she was answering her own question.

"Mind my own business and wait it out?" The words left her lips in a half-joking, half-serious tone. It was her way of acknowledging the complexity of the situation, the uncertainty of what lay ahead. She watched as a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

He nodded, a wry smile forming. "That's right." He affirmed, his gaze fixed on her as if he was seeing her in a new light. "As if I'm not sittin’ here with you right now." The playfulness in his voice was matched by the warmth in his eyes, and at that moment, the weight of their feelings seemed to lift slightly.

Kiran let out a soft chuckle, a mixture of relief and nervousness intertwining in her expression. "Guess I'll just have to be patient then."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss. "Patience can be rewardin’," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin.

As they pulled away, the room seemed to hold a different energy, one tinged with the promise of what might come next.

"But—" She found herself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing her closer to him, her movements graceful as she shifted her position on the bed, closing the small gap that had separated them. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement. "I don't have to be patient right now, though, do I?" Her voice was soft, a playful glint in her eyes as she looked at him.

He met her gaze, his lips curling into a smirk. The subtle dance of their emotions filled the air, creating an electrifying tension between them. "I don't know, Kiran," he responded, his tone teasing yet laced with a deeper undercurrent. "Maybe I have plans to clean up after you again. I reckon that's more appealin’ to me right now than any relations."

What the fuck did he just say? Is that cowboy for “I want to fuck your brains out?”

"Surely you're joking," she shot back nervously, her voice carrying a mixture of amusement and challenge. There was a spark between them, a dynamic that only seemed to intensify the more they exchanged words.

He grinned, a confident glimmer in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. With a deliberate movement, he reached out, his fingers gently curling around the back of her head. Their eyes remained locked, and then he pulled her in.

Their lips met in a kiss that held a blend of familiarity and newfound passion. It was a kiss that conveyed more than words ever could.

Their embrace deepened, the softness of their lips giving way to a hunger that had been building between them.

Kiran's fingers found their way to his chest, her touch gentle yet filled with a yearning that mirrored his own.

As they finally pulled away, Kiran's breath was slightly uneven, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of emotions she was still processing.

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he looked at her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. "Guess that's one way to pass the time, ain’t it?"

As Kiran opened her mouth, ready to respond, Logan's words preempted her, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere that had enveloped them.

"Before we get—uh—carried away here," he interjected, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, "I should probably mention for you to keep an eye out at that upcomin’ tree thing the mayor is havin'."

Her eyebrow quirked upward in curiosity, a mixture of playfulness and intrigue dancing in her eyes. "Planning on showing up and saying hello to old friends?" she quipped, her words carrying a teasing tone.

Logan's laughter rumbled, "Somethin’ like that," he admitted, a playful glint in his blue eyes.

Kiran shifted her position slightly, moving closer to him as she regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and affection. "Well, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for the mysterious bandit who makes surprise appearances," she replied, a grin tugging at her lips.

His gaze held hers, an unspoken understanding passing between them. "Just don't go causin' a ruckus, Kiran," he warned, a hint of mock severity in his tone. "I've got enough trouble to handle without you stirrin' up more."

She softly laughed, and the atmosphere between them seemed a bit more relaxed. "No promises," she jokingly said as her fingers grazed his arm.

“So where were we?” Her hand reached up to lightly stroke his jawline, and he stared at her with such intensity, it was almost too much to take in. It felt like he could see right into her innermost desires and read the thoughts that lingered in her soul. She felt her heart flutter as a smirk played on her lips.

Logan's voice rumbled through her body, sending sparks of electricity through her veins. His eyes held a fierce intensity - an overwhelming desire that threatened to consume her. As he reached out for her she could feel the heat radiating off of him in waves, and when he asked "What do you want?" his breath tickled her neck. Every cell in her body was on fire, begging for his touch, and all she could manage to utter was a single word.

"You."

Her answer left no room for doubt.

The following morning arrived, and Kiran emerged from the realm of sleep, her senses slowly awakening to the reality around her. As her fingers reached out to the space beside her, a fleeting moment of confusion washed over her as she realized it was empty. She let out a groan of disappointment, frustration tugging at the corners of her thoughts. Snatching the pillow that had been nestled beside her, she pulled it over her head, seeking refuge from the morning light that filtered into the room.

In the solitude of that moment, a cascade of thoughts rushed through her mind. She couldn't help but acknowledge the intricacies of her situation: she loved the enigmatic bandit, and he, too, professed his feelings for her - in his weird way. It was a tangled web of affection, one that left her grappling with an unanticipated conundrum.

As the morning light continued to filter through the room, she sighed into her pillow, feeling the weight of her internal conflict. The situation was, undeniably, a screw-up of colossal proportions. Yet, with each passing interaction, Kiran was coming to realize that Logan might not be the tarnished soul that rumors had painted him to be. There was more beneath the surface, layers of complexity that defied the town's perceptions.

Lost in her thoughts, she was abruptly pulled from her reverie by an insistent knock at her front door. A groggy mumble of "Hold on" escaped her lips as she untangled herself from the covers and hastily donned some clothes. Rubbing her eyes to chase away the last remnants of sleep, she stumbled her way to the front door, irritation lacing her words as she called out to the person on the other side.

"And hold on!" she grumbled, a mixture of curiosity and mild annoyance in her voice. She swung the door open, a surprised gasp escaping her as she was greeted by the sight of her brother standing there.

"Jessie! You're here already? I thought you weren't coming until next week," she exclaimed, a mixture of shock and delight coloring her words.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression a blend of amusement and mild reproach. "Uh, losing track of time, Kiran?" he teased gently, his arms reaching out to embrace her in a warm hug. "I wrote you that letter over two weeks ago."

She blinked, realization dawning upon her as she was reminded of the communication she had somewhat forgotten. "I'm losing track of a lot of things, honestly," she confessed, her words carrying a weight that went beyond her brother's visit.

He chuckled softly, releasing her from the embrace but retaining that trademark brotherly grin. "Typical," he teased, their familiar banter serving as a comforting reminder of their sibling bond.

"Come on in," she welcomed him, stepping back to hold the door open, inviting him into her space.

"Gladly," Jessie replied, his tone carrying a note of familiarity as he breezed past her. In his wake, he handed over his bag, which was considerably heavier than she had anticipated. His eyes swept over the room, taking in its modest dimensions. "This is it?" he quirked an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Two rooms?"

Kiran couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. "Yeah, Sandrock isn't the sprawling metropolis you might be used to. We make do with what we have."

"Your letter really threw me off," Jessie admitted as he pulled out a chair at the small table in her living space. Kiran, in the meantime, left the door slightly ajar and made her way to switch on the nearby fan. The desert heat had a way of seeping into every corner.

"Sorry about that," she said with an apologetic smile. "I might have been a bit preoccupied."

He leaned back in his chair, his expression inquisitive. "So, the Civil Corps now? Dad nearly dropped his coffee when I told him." A soft chuckle escaped her. "Yeah, kind of. Not the most official member, but close enough. Things change."

Jessie nodded in understanding. "Well, life does have its way. But coffee sounds good right about now."

Kiran moved to the small kitchenette area, busying herself with the task of preparing the coffee. As she worked, she couldn't help but appreciate the familiarity of her brother's presence in her home, a comforting reminder of her roots amid the changes that life had thrown her way.

"Drilling will have to wait until after we've had our caffeine fix," she called out, the sound of cups and saucers clinking in the background.

The inquisition began almost immediately after he took his first sip of coffee. "So, Mom said you've been up to some tree project here. Trees in the desert," he mused, shaking his head with a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

Kiran's face lit up at the mention of her endeavor. "Yeah! It's a big deal here. The mayor has been putting in a lot of effort. Actually, the ceremony to celebrate the project is tomorrow."

Her brother's expression seemed slightly disgruntled as he considered this timing. "Should have timed my train ride for tomorrow then, huh?"

Kiran chuckled, shaking her head, taking a warm sip from her mug. "Come on, it won't be that bad. You'll get to experience the unique charm of Sandrock firsthand."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Well, I'll take your word for it."

Shifting the conversation, Kiran was eager to catch up on the happenings back home. "So, how's everyone doing there? How's Zelda?" she asked, referring to one of their close friends.

Jessie's face brightened at the mention of their friends. "Oh, they're all doing fine. Zelda is still making her crazy inventions. Robin's finally getting the hang of that new bakery job. And Crystal is taking her painting more seriously these days."

Kiran smiled, glad to hear that everyone was pursuing their passions. "That's great to hear. What about Sam and Joey?"

A thoughtful expression crossed Jessie's face. "Sam's been traveling a bit for work. As for Joey, well, he's been... Joey. You know how he is."

Kiran laughed, nodding in agreement. Joey had always been a free spirit. "And what about... wait, did you mention Sam traveling? How's he doing?"

Her brother leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "He's doing well, I think. Keeps talking about new places he's been visiting. Seems like he's enjoying the adventure."

"Good for him," Kiran replied, genuinely happy for their friend. "Thanks for catching me up on everyone. It's weird being so far away."

"Hey," Jessie said, his voice gentle, "We all miss you. But it sounds like you're doing some pretty amazing things out here."

Kiran's expression softened, her gaze meeting her brother's. "Yeah, I guess so. It's been an adventure, that's for sure."

"You haven't heard from any of them?" Jessie's sudden question caught her off guard, and it took her a moment to process that she indeed hadn't received any messages from her old friends. The realization sent a slight pang through her, a mix of hurt and nostalgia.

"No, not a word," she admitted, her tone tinged with a touch of melancholy. "Guess it makes me wonder if they even miss me."

Her brother sighed, leaning back and looking thoughtful. "People change and grow up, Kiran. Life takes everyone in different directions. And speaking of growing up, look at you – Sandrock's rising star!"

Kiran chuckled, feeling a mixture of pride and awkwardness at his praise. "Yeah, well, the water tower thing was a team effort. But yeah, I've been pretty involved in what's been happening here."

He took another sip of his coffee, eyeing her curiously. "It's a shame about that water tower though. I'm thankful we don't have bandits causing trouble in Highwind. Speaking of bandits, have you seen this Logan guy?"

She tensed slightly at the mention of Logan, her mind racing to find the right words. "Just a quick glimpse, actually," she lied smoothly, her practiced response coming easily. "During the whole water tower incident. I even gave him a not-so-friendly gesture."

Her brother burst into laughter. "Classic Kiran move! Only you would do something like that." Kiran joined in the laughter, relief washing over her that she had managed to navigate the conversation without revealing too much about her complicated feelings for Logan.

Amethyst, a gemstone of exquisite beauty and rarity, belonged to the quartz family. Its chemical composition was primarily silicon dioxide. The mesmerizing purple hue of amethyst came from the presence of iron oxide within the quartz, with amethyst containing more iron than other quartz varieties. The fascinating transformation occurs when the stone undergoes crystallization, and gamma rays emitted by radioactive components within the rock irradiate the iron, giving rise to its distinctive purple color. Interestingly, citrine, another type of quartz, can be obtained by heating amethyst. This transformation can occur naturally or through intentional processes. Citrine was a gem as scarce as Kiran.

Kiran embodied a unique beauty and rarity much like the amethyst itself. She occupied a distinct corner in his mind, mingling with an array of trivia he had accumulated over time – such as the count of cacti encircling her workshop (a total of twelve) or the tally of his shoe collection (merely two pairs). Or the memory of Justice's (four) exasperated snaps to bring him back from his contemplative dazes, staring into the vastness of the cloudless desert sky, was also nestled among those mental footnotes.

Kiran, undoubtedly, was intriguing.

Unsuur recognized her brother as he disembarked from the train, Jessie, a figure just as distinctive as Kiran herself with his vivid blue hair. Taller than Kiran and seemingly roused from a lengthy slumber, he stretched languidly on the train platform before eventually heading toward Kiran's workshop.

Justice's voice cut through Unsuur's reverie. "What's got your attention, man?" The sudden question snapped Unsuur's focus away from Kiran's closed workshop door.

Turning to face the Sheriff, Unsuur blinked in surprise before responding, "Apologies, boss. Was lost in thought. What do you need?"

"I need you to take a breather from your thoughts for a measly five minutes," Justice quipped in response, his manner possessing a knack for such interventions. "We've got preparations to make for tomorrow, and that includes a sweep of the tree perimeter to ensure we're not hosting any unwelcome guests—snakes, critters, you know."

Unsuur nodded, his agreement underscored by a flicker of hesitation. The thought of venturing toward the tree site across the railway bridge, into the expanse of the Eufaula, always carried that shadow of doubt, as if ill fortune was lurking in the wings.

Justice's sigh mirrored their shared understanding of that inner struggle. "I'll make the rounds alone," he announced, his voice compassionate yet acknowledging the underlying unease. "You stay put in town and make sure nothing goes south here." He moved past Unsuur, a solid pat on the back punctuating his words. "But hey, no more zoning out on me. Clear?"

"Crystal," Unsuur affirmed with a nod, a wisp of a smile forming as he resolved to snap out of his thoughts and carry out his duties diligently.

With Justice off on his own task, Unsuur embarked on his own routine patrol of the town. Despite the changing seasons, the desert's temperature remained unyielding, maintaining its characteristic heat. The transition from summer had brought some respite from humidity, yet the air still clung with a gritty, parched quality.

As he strolled past the Blue Moon, he cast a fleeting glance toward Hugo's shop, his mind caught between the present and the distant view of the train station. A voice pulled him from his musings, Hugo's friendly greeting drifting over to him from the blacksmith's workspace. "Hey, Unsuur! Beautiful day, ain't it?" A ritualistic exchange they engaged in every day.

Unsuur offered a nod, his lips curling into a faint smile as he replied with the habitual response, "Yep." He lingered for a brief moment, gaze shifting from Hugo to the anvil and the rhythmic clang of his hammer. "Well, catch ya later," he added, his stride resuming as he left behind the steady cadence of the blacksmith's craft, its echoes accompanying him along his path.

His patrol led him through the familiar streets of Sandrock, a journey that usually took him around an hour, barring any lengthy conversations that locals were often inclined to engage in. Today, fortune favored him, and aside from the usual exchange with Hugo, only three souls crossed his path.

Director Qi, an infrequent visitor outside the research center, caught his attention momentarily. The researcher's rare appearance in the open air was marked by a quick glance at the sky, as if assessing the time, before retreating back indoors.

Then there was Mort, Sandrock's eldest resident, who greeted him with a friendly wave as he passed by the graveyard.

Arriving at the town square, Unsuur encountered Cooper, who had just descended from the general store's porch. Cooper launched into a conversation, his words becoming a continuous stream that Unsuur found himself gradually tuning out from.

However, amidst Cooper's discourse, Unsuur's attention was snagged by the sight of Kiran making her way up the street with her brother. The unexpected glimpse of her stirred a subtle warmth within him, momentarily diverting his thoughts from the monologue Cooper was weaving.

“And that concludes my thoughts on that matter," Cooper stated, wrapping up his speech. Unsuur, pulled from his brief reverie, refocused his attention on Cooper, momentarily disoriented.

"Huh?" Unsuur responded with a shake of his head. Cooper's huff indicated that he wasn't interested in repeating himself and instead launched into another soliloquy, seemingly more directed at himself as he walked away. He paused briefly next to Kiran, seemingly sharing a comment about a horse before continuing on his way.

At that moment, Kiran's eyes locked onto Unsuur's, a momentary connection that held a hint of something complex—perhaps hesitancy, or an unspoken thought. Unsuur had observed Kiran closely, learning various facets of her life: the way she styled her hair on weekends, the birthmark on her shoulder resembling a tiny inkblot, her fondness for horses, and her tendency to linger in the ruins after dark. The tiny breathless noises she made when he - he mentally shook his head.

Yet, understanding her emotions, or anyone's emotions for that matter, remained a challenge.

Unsuur's mind was a repository of Kiran's quirks and nuances. He knew she struggled with maintaining focus, had a childhood friend named 'Nia,' disliked the feeling of sand in her boots, and had a son whom she seldom mentioned or saw. He had noticed that she carried the delicate fragrance of rosewater with her.

As Kiran and her brother moved closer, Unsuur's awareness shifted to the present. The "hey" that escaped her lips sounded as if she had just completed a long run, despite not having done so.

"Hey, Kiran," Unsuur responded with a nod.

Kiran then introduced her brother as Jessie, and as they stood face-to-face, Unsuur couldn't help but notice the significant height difference—either Jessie was tall or Unsuur was short, but Kiran was undoubtedly the shortest among them. Jessie extended his hand for a handshake, and Unsuur mentally accessed his knowledge about him.

"Right," Unsuur said after recalling some details Kiran had mentioned about her brother. "You didn't make it into The Flying Pigs, did you?" he asked Jessie.

A moment of confusion passed over Jessie's face before he looked at Kiran, and then laughter spilled from him. "No, I didn't," he chuckled. "Guess you need to run faster than a stallion to get in there."

Kiran's laughter filled the air, creating a warm atmosphere among the three of them.

"Just showing Jessie around Sandrock," Kiran explained, her eyes gleaming with sibling camaraderie. "He's only here for a few days."

"Sandrock is quite a unique place," Jessie commented, his gaze drifting upwards as if pondering the desert expanse.

Kiran turned her attention back to Unsuur. "Did you want to join us? We were planning on going over to the oasis after I show him the water tower."

Unsuur felt a mixture of longing and responsibility tugging at him. Spending time with Kiran and her brother was tempting, but he also knew his duty as a deputy-in-training. He considered his options and realized that Justice might not appreciate him taking the time to step away. Shaking his head at Kiran, he reluctantly declined. "Got to get back to it," he explained, his tone carrying a hint of regret.

Kiran's disappointment was evident, but she understood. She reached out and briefly took hold of his arm, a silent gesture of understanding. "I'll see you later," she said, and Unsuur couldn't help but feel a pang of regret as they started to leave.

"Nice meeting you, pal," Jessie chimed in, offering a friendly nod before they walked away. Unsuur watched them go, feeling a mixture of conflicting emotions swirling within him.

The day had unfolded without much excitement. Aside from a brief encounter involving Captain and another cat getting into a tussle, it had been relatively uneventful. Justice's parting words echoed in his mind as he locked up the Civil Corps office.

"I'll see ya tomorrow, partner," Justice had said before heading off into the night. Unsuur's gaze instinctively rose to the sky, briefly taking in the stars before he made his way home. As he entered his dwelling, he immediately began the routine of shedding his gear.

Perched on the edge of his bed, Unsuur leaned forward to undo the laces of his boots. He struggled with a particularly stubborn knot, his frustration growing. With no other choice in sight, he reached for the drawer of his bedside table. As his fingers rummaged through the contents, he retrieved a small pocket knife. Its origin was lost in the recesses of his memory, just like much of his past.

Finally freeing the knot, he let out a relieved sigh. Returning the knife to the drawer, his eyes drifted to something else that lay within—an item that always piqued his curiosity. It was a simple gold wedding band. He'd found it in there at some point, but he couldn't recall how it had ended up in his possession.

Leaning back against the bed, he held the ring up to the soft glow of the room's lighting, watching the light play on its surface as he twirled it between his fingers. The ring held a mystery that mirrored his own unknown past, a constant reminder of the enigma that surrounded him.

Amidst a jumble of worn-out clothes, the gold wedding band and the pocket knife were the sole remnants discovered by B3, the former Sheriff, and Justice when they stumbled upon Unsuur in the barren desert. Those items held the keys to a mystery that seemed to have no end.

"Married, huh?" B3's gravelly voice had carried a mix of curiosity as well as concern. "You had this ring on when we found you out there."

"Did you have a partner with you during the sandstorm?" Justice's inquiry had been tinged with the typical curiosity of a man who was always seeking answers. In those initial moments when Unsuur had awakened in the clinic, Justice had a determined spirit emanating from him, a silent testament to someone who placed great value on security and safety.

Yet, the frustrating truth remained—he couldn't remember. He was utterly oblivious to the context of their questions or the origins of these belongings. All he knew was that he had once been with his father in their apartment on Vega 5, and now he found himself in a dusty town somewhere in the desert.

"I don't know," he had repeated, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and helplessness. His name was the only tangible piece of information he could provide, but to them, it seemed like a flimsy lead at best.

Justice's response had been matter-of-fact, laced with a hint of dry humor. "Well, looks like you're stuck here with us until you figure it out. At least until those memories come back."

But as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Unsuur realized that those memories might never resurface. He was left grappling with a past that remained stubbornly elusive, a puzzle missing crucial pieces. The ring, the knife, the fragments of his identity—each part of him was like a whisper from a distant time, just beyond his grasp.

During the quiet nights, his mind would occasionally wander into the realm of dreams, where memories and imaginings melded into a surreal tapestry. In those moments, a vision would materialize—an ethereal blond woman, dressed in flowing white attire, twirling gracefully beneath a deluge of desert rain. Each drop seemed to be a fleeting kiss against her skin as she spun, her laughter mingling with the patter of water against the sand.

The perplexing part was that he couldn't put a name to that face, nor could he unravel the significance of the scene. The woman existed within his dreams like a specter that teased his mind with fragments of familiarity he couldn't quite grasp.

Night after night, she would grace his subconscious, her presence both comforting and puzzling. But then, as if a script had suddenly shifted, the dreams began to morph. The blond woman's figure gradually dissolved, replaced by another—Kiran, with her vivid blue bangs clinging to her forehead, dancing uninhibitedly under the cascading desert rain.

This shift was unexpected, and yet it felt natural. Somehow, in the labyrinth of his mind, the unknown woman had seamlessly transformed into Kiran, the woman he knew in the waking world. Her laughter carried the same joy as the blond woman's, and the raindrops that touched her skin evoked the same sense of intimacy.

Unsuur found himself caught between two worlds—the dreamlike past that he couldn't fully recollect and the tangible present with Kiran at the center of it. He would wake from those dreams with a mixture of confusion and longing, left to ponder the mysterious connections that tied the threads of his subconscious together.

Well, Logan hadn’t lied when he told her she would be seeing him soon.

Kiran found herself engulfed in a whirlwind of chaos during the ceremony for the Little Woods. The event that was meant to celebrate the efforts put into bringing trees to the desert took an unexpected turn when Logan made his grand entrance. Swift as a shadow, he had managed to snatch Minister Matilda amidst the crowd's distractions, leaving everyone baffled.

Before Kiran could process the situation fully, Justice sprang into action, attempting to intervene. But his heroic efforts were cut short when Logan deployed a smoke bomb, causing Justice's horse to react erratically and knock him off. Amidst the confusion, Justice threw something at Logan, an attempt that seemed to fall short as Justice landed on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

Kiran and Unsuur quickly joined Justice on the ground, their concern mixing with the surreal sight of Justice's laughter. Unsuur offered a hand to help him up, only to be met with Justice's wild laughter and cryptic words. "I got him!" Justice finally managed to utter between fits of amusement.

Mi-an approached with a mix of curiosity and exasperation. She seemed to be the voice of reason in the midst of the madness. "You threw a tracking device at Logan when he knocked you back?" she questioned incredulously.

Justice's laughter persisted as he shook his head, steadying himself with Unsuur's assistance. "Better than that," he declared, his eyes gleaming with a touch of madness. "Catnip."

Kiran raised an eyebrow in disbelief, unsure whether to be impressed or bewildered by Justice's unconventional strategy. Before she could voice her thoughts, movement caught her attention.

Captain darted past her in pursuit.

"Corps, follow that cat!" Justice's voice rang out, his energy reigniting as he turned and headed into the vast expanse of the desert, with Unsuur close behind.

Kiran exchanged an exasperated glance with Mi-an, a mixture of amusement and bewilderment in her expression, before she too set off, determined to keep up with the chaotic turn of events.

Amidst the chaotic aftermath of the ceremony, Kiran left the bewildered townspeople and the echoes of Pastor Miguel's shouts behind. Her steps echoed in her ears as she trailed after Justice and Unsuur, venturing deeper into the desert. Justice was in hot pursuit of Captain, the feline's relentless chase of the catnip guiding them to an unexpected location: the mouth of a cave.

Questions swirled in Kiran's mind, mirroring the sand kicked up by the wind. What had Logan been planning? Why had he taken Minister Matilda without a word to her? The lack of communication left her puzzled and concerned, unable to shake off the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye. Logan had always been enigmatic, and this only added another layer of mystery.

As they stood before the cave entrance, Kiran couldn't help but wonder about Logan's motives. What was driving his actions? Her concern for him warred with the circumstances at hand.

"This is it," Justice's voice broke through her thoughts, his hand resting on his holster as he surveyed the cave's entrance. "Finally gonna catch that bastard." His determination sent a shiver down her spine, and she exchanged a glance with Unsuur, who had also drawn his weapon in readiness.

"Ready?" Justice's question hung in the air, the weight of their impending actions settling on Kiran's shoulders. She wasn't sure if she was ready. The prospect of confronting Logan, of potentially capturing him, ignited a tumult of conflicting emotions within her. Her heart raced, torn between loyalty to the Civil Corps and her complex feelings for the elusive bandit.

Despite her reservations, Kiran nodded slowly, her fingers curling around the grip of her pistol. The metal was cool against her skin, a stark reminder of the situation's seriousness. As much as she wanted to protect Logan from whatever fate awaited him, she understood the necessity of their mission.

"Please, I don't know anything!" The desperate plea from Minister Matilda echoed off the damp walls of the cave, a stark contrast to the sinister chuckles emanating from Logan. As they ventured deeper into the cavern, an unexpected element entered the scene—a child's laughter, that puzzled Kiran to no end.

"Tell us where the water is!" Logan's demand cut through the air, sparking a flurry of thoughts in Kiran's mind. Water? Why was he so intent on locating it? She could feel a sense of familiarity tugging at her consciousness.

"Are you planning to pilfer our water next?" Minister Matilda's voice quivered with a mix of fear and defiance. "Logan, you don't have to resort to this."

The trio pressed forward, and the passage opened up to a spacious chamber. There, bound by her wrists to the edge of an upturned table, was Minister Matilda, her disheveled appearance speaking volumes about the ordeal she had endured. The tableau was unexpected, but what truly captured Kiran's attention wasn't Logan initially—it was the presence of a young, fair-haired boy who stood beside him.

Kiran's gaze lingered on the boy, curiosity piqued by his presence in such an ominous setting. However, her attention was soon drawn back to Logan, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared bewilderment. Behind the mask concealing half of his face, Kiran discerned a fleeting emotion, an unspoken question that seemed to ask, "What are you doing here?"

Without wasting a heartbeat, Justice's gun was leveled squarely at Logan, his voice carrying a commanding urgency. "Hands up, Logan! The game's over!"

Logan's attention shifted swiftly to Justice, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Justice," he addressed the newcomer, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips.

In the tense air of the standoff, Justice's voice remained steady, his words carrying a tone of reason amidst the brewing storm. "This doesn't have to turn into a bloodbath, Logan. Surrender now, and we can still work this out without unnecessary violence."

Logan's response was a booming laugh that reverberated through the space around them, his arms crossing casually as if the situation amused him to no end. "You reckon you've gathered enough troops to wrangle me in?" he taunted, a challenging glint in his eyes.

Justice hesitated, momentarily caught off guard by Logan's defiance. "Y-yeah, of course." he stammered, his gaze darting toward Kiran for an instant as if silently beseeching her to intervene. However, Kiran stood immobilized, a captive audience to the high-stakes encounter unfolding before her.

Logan's confident demeanor only grew stronger. "How about you put that gun down, Justice?" he suggested with an air of authority, his steps deliberate as he advanced, his fist making a sharp impact against his open palm. "I know you've been waitin’ for a chance like this."

Aware of the gravity of the situation, Kiran's focus shifted momentarily from Logan and Justice to the bound Minister Matilda, who struggled against her restraints. Beside her, Unsuur appeared just as tense, ready to assist but seemingly paralyzed by the intensity of the confrontation.

Breaking the silence, Justice issued a command, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Both of you, help the minister," he instructed with urgency underscoring his words. Then, in a surprising twist, he discarded his firearm, its clatter against the ground resonating through the charged atmosphere. With unwavering determination, he lunged at Logan, a blur of motion and intent.

As the clash between Justice and Logan unfolded before her, Kiran felt a whirlwind of emotions. The din of her heartbeat matched the cacophony of the situation, a pivotal moment where loyalties, decisions, and destinies hung in precarious balance.

Diverting her attention from the escalating altercation, she swiftly redirected her focus to aiding Unsuur in untangling the Minister from her bindings. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, swiftly undoing the knots that had held Minister Matilda captive. Her voice was filled with genuine concern as she posed her questions, her worry echoed in her eyes. "Minister, are you alright?" Her words held a tinge of incredulity as if she found it difficult to believe that Logan could have possibly resorted to harming the Minister.

"I'm fine, Kiran," came the composed response from Minister Matilda, a testament to her resilience despite the ordeal.

A clamor of noise drew her attention, the clash of bodies and the struggle that had erupted behind her causing her to pivot on her heel. Her heart raced as she witnessed the startling tableau—Logan had managed to subdue Justice, pinning him to the ground. Amidst the turmoil, Justice's voice rang out, a plea for assistance that cut through the chaos. "Kiran!" His voice reached her ears, laden with urgency and a plea for aid.

In a heartbeat that felt suspended in time, her gaze met Logan's. There was an unspoken understanding in that fleeting connection, an inexplicable nod that seemed to grant her permission or perhaps challenge her to act. The significance of that moment settled in her mind, lingering like a puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly.

The surge of determination that coursed through her veins couldn't be denied.

If they want a spectacle, then they shall have one.

Her inner thoughts resonated with an unexpected resolve. With a surge of energy, she launched herself forward, a force of nature aimed at disrupting the current dynamic. In an instant, her body collided with Logan's, and the two of them tumbled together, a flurry of limbs and motion that sent them crashing onto the floor.

The impact was softened by a curious mixture of her own strength and an odd sensation that Logan wasn't putting up as much resistance as he could. It was a strange dance of cooperation and rivalry, the ultimate motivations concealed beneath layers of tangled emotions. As they wrestled on the ground, Kiran found herself immersed in a physical and emotional typhoon, a daring display that transcended the immediate context and touched upon the intricate connections that bound them all together.

Amidst the intense struggle, the clash of wills culminated in Kiran finding herself pinned beneath the weight of Logan's form. Her breath caught as her gaze met his, and in an audacious display that perfectly encapsulated his irreverent nature- he winked at her. A mixture of incredulity and irritation surged within her, her mind temporarily distracted by his audacity.

However, their confrontation was abruptly interrupted by a sudden flurry of movement within the chamber. A hand materialized out of the chaos, yanking Logan away from her grasp. Kiran scrambled to sit up, her eyes widening as Pen—swift and relentless—flung Logan across the room with a single decisive motion. Logan's figure crashed against the rugged stone surface, the impact echoing in the air.

As Logan regained his footing, a calculated maneuver directed the attention of both Kiran and the blond boy accompanying him. With a deft and unexpected maneuver, Logan darted - retreating deeper into the cavern's dark recesses before Pen could react or intercept.

Kiran's heart raced, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she surged to her feet in pursuit of Logan's fleeing form. However, her resolve was cut short by a sudden eruption that rocked the very foundation of the cave. A thunderous explosion filled the space, the force of the blast reverberating through the passages. Before her very eyes, the cave entrance crumbled and collapsed, a cascade of rocks forming an impenetrable barrier between her and the retreating figures.

Dust and debris danced in the aftermath of the explosion, obscuring her view and choking her senses. Kiran's mind raced as she grappled with the realization that the opportunity to pursue Logan had been literally shattered before her. She watched in a state of disbelief, her chest tightening with frustration, as the wall of stones stood as a stark reminder of what had just transpired.

Justice's voice broke through the haze, his anguished scream punctuating the chaos. "Logan!" he roared, his fists pounding relentlessly against the rocky obstruction. Each blow was a manifestation of his pent-up emotions, a manifestation of the gravity of the situation that had unfolded. The percussive rhythm of his punches was a testament to his desperation, his desire to breach the barrier between them, and whatever secrets Logan had carried into the depths of the cave.

As Justice's determination finally solidified within him, the group departed from the cavern, retracing their steps back through the same path they had originally taken to enter. Emerging from the depths of the cave's shadowy embrace, they were greeted by the familiar expanse of Sandrock's surroundings. The weight of their recent encounter clung to them like a shroud.

Outside, the curious gaze of Sandrock's citizens met them. Among the concerned faces, Trudy stepped forward with a mixture of relief and apprehension, her eyes fixed on Minister Matilda.

"Matilda, are you alright?" Her voice trembled with genuine concern.

Zeke, his ponderous expression mirroring the mountains that framed the town, cast a searching glance around. "Where's Logan?" he inquired, the question hanging heavy in the air, like a stone seeking answers in the wind.

Unsuur's voice, calm but tinged with resignation, broke through the tension. "He managed to slip away," his words a reminder of the elusive figure's ability to vanish into the shadows.

Amidst the gathering, Yan's ire flared, his expletive-laden frustration slicing through the charged atmosphere. "He was right there in a damn cave! How in the world did you all manage to mess this up?" His words were a reflection of the growing resentment within the community, a mix of exasperation and disbelief directed at the perceived ineptitude of their protectors.

Justice stepped forward, attempting to quell the rising tide of dissatisfaction that threatened to engulf them all. His demeanor, a mixture of determination and measured composure, sought to bridge the gap between their expectations and the unfolding reality. The Civil Corps had yet again allowed Logan to slip through their grasp, and the consequences of that failure reverberated within the scrutinizing eyes of Sandrock's inhabitants.

"Kiran!" Pushing through the crowd, Jessie reached his sister, hands finding Kiran's shoulders in a tight grip. "What the hell happened? Are you okay?" Concern etched across his face.

Kiran's mind grappled with the nature of Logan's actions. The complexity of his motives left her suspended in a state of emotional limbo, unable to neatly categorize her feelings—especially with the cacophony of accusations from the surrounding crowd. As the accusatory voices swirled around her, Kiran struggled to reconcile the image of the man she had glimpsed beneath the surface with the allegations being hurled his way. In response to Jessie's query, Kiran offered a subtle nod, a silent confirmation of her physical well-being, though her thoughts remained tangled in a web of uncertainty.

Amidst the emotional tempest, a commanding voice shattered the din, its resonance slicing through the chaos and demanding attention. Pastor Miguel's words rang out with authority, cutting through the rising clamor and imposing a sudden hush upon the gathered onlookers.

"ENOUGH," he boomed, his words a decisive proclamation that held a weighty finality. The effect was instantaneous—an abrupt cessation of noise, as if a switch had been flipped, allowing the quiet to settle like a heavy blanket over the crowd.

In that suspended silence, the community paused, momentarily regaining its equilibrium in the face of the unexpected.

"I've had enough!" The pastor's voice rose above the murmurs, a declaration that cut through the gathering. With determination etched across his features, he pushed past Zeke to stand face-to-face with Justice. The gravity of the moment hung heavily in the air as Pastor Miguel confronted the figure representing law and order. "I demand that Logan be brought to justice!" His words carried an undercurrent of frustration and urgency, mirrored by the quiet agreements that rippled through the assembled crowd.

Justice appeared slightly taken aback by the pastor's fervor, momentarily caught off guard by the abrupt confrontation. A chorus of voices murmured their consent, lending weight to Pastor Miguel's demand. "To me?" Justice's response carried a hint of confusion, his brows furrowing momentarily as he grappled with the pastor's words. "Oh, right, I understand now..." He nodded in realization, attempting to regain his composure.

Pastor Miguel's gaze swept over the assembled members of the Civil Corps, his stern countenance encompassing all, including Kiran, who held her breath under his scrutinizing gaze. His frustration was a simmering force that had finally found an outlet. Addressing the crowd, his voice projected his conviction. "I've voiced this concern in private, and now I'll say it in front of all of you. Our city is in need of aid. We require the expertise of someone skilled in tracking down individuals like Logan and his band of miscreants—a solution to end this menace once and for all."

Turning his attention to Trudy, Pastor Miguel's gaze held an expectant edge. "Mayor, you undoubtedly comprehend what I'm alluding to." His words placed a weighty responsibility on her shoulders, a challenge to confront the pressing need.

Trudy appeared taken aback, her response timid as she acknowledged the situation. "Um, yes, there was... a specialist you suggested I hire."

Minister Matilda interjected with a practical perspective, acknowledging the challenges that lay ahead. "But hiring a specialist could strain our resources. And I’m fine - really, Miguel."

Pastor Miguel's response was immediate, driven by the urgency of the moment. "Our lives are beyond value. There's no price too great to pay for our safety." His gaze swept the assembly once more, his words carrying a sense of collective purpose. "We must redirect our efforts towards eradicating the threat that Logan poses." The pastor's resolve was unwavering, a rallying cry that echoed through the gathered crowd, igniting a collective recognition of the task that lay ahead and the unity required to face it head-on.

"Well..." Trudy's voice held a touch of hesitancy, her gaze shifting between the determined faces of the crowd and the weight of their collective expectations. "If that's the consensus..."

As the initial fervor began to dissipate, many among the crowd dispersed, drawn away by Minister Matilda's reassurances that she was unharmed. With the center of attention shifting, the minister's focus returned to the figures from the Civil Corps and the mayor, her expression carrying a blend of urgency and concern.

Her words held a commanding tone as she outlined their course of action. "I want all of you to comb through every corner of this town. Start asking questions, probing for information." Her gaze seemed to hold a trace of frustration, a mixture of disbelief and determination. "Logan was inquiring about the water—seems like he's convinced that someone's hiding it." Her voice tinged with incredulity at the audacity of such a notion.

Justice's response was a mixture of incredulity and skepticism. "Seriously? You don't actually believe that dimwit, do you?" His disbelief was palpable, reflecting the general sentiment that seemed to linger in the air.

Unsuur's addition to the conversation brought a practical perspective, his logical mind addressing the flaws in the idea. "The logistics of hiding a significant amount of water would be quite conspicuous. The required space alone would be hard to conceal, not to mention the challenges of maintaining its quality."

Justice's response was swift, a mixture of surprise and appreciation. "Impressive deduction, Unsuur! You're showing some real deputy-level skills there, partner!"

Unsuur's retort was a gentle reminder of past conversations. "That's what you said last time this came up."

Justice's reaction was a blend of realization and good-natured concession. "Ah, right... well, that's deputy-level memory for you. Just polish up on some of those other skills?"

With a supportive arm wrapped around Kiran's shoulders, Jessie gently guided her away from the lingering discussions, a silent comfort offered in the midst of the unfolding turmoil. Kiran's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts, grappling with the notion of water being hidden—questions swirling like dust in a storm. The purpose behind such an act remained a puzzle, one that seemed to beckon Kiran's inquisitive nature.

Could someone truly be hiding water? And for what inscrutable purpose? As they began to distance themselves from the conversing group, Kiran's curiosity surged, compelling her to step back away from her brother and rejoin the retreating figures.

Her focus zeroed in on Pastor Miguel, a figure whose position at the heart of the community made him a valuable source of information. Seizing the opportunity, she approached him, her footsteps purposeful.

"Excuse me, Pastor," she addressed him, her voice carrying a hint of urgency that caught his attention. He halted in his tracks and turned to face her, his demeanor a mix of curiosity and reserved acknowledgment.

"Kiran," he greeted her, his tone laced with a cool formality.

Wasting no time, Kiran cut to the heart of her query. "You're responsible for tracking all the water in town, aren't you?" Her words were direct, her eyes fixed on his as she sought confirmation.

Pastor Miguel's response was immediate, his nod a gesture that underscored his role in overseeing the vital resource. And then, to Kiran's surprise, his demeanor seemed to soften, his guarded expression giving way to a more open stance.

"I would be well aware if anyone were tampering with our water supply, Kiran," he stated, a hint of reassurance underlying his words. The confidence in his tone spoke volumes about his vigilance and the trust that the community placed in him to safeguard their essential needs.

However, his next words held an unexpected twist, a consideration for Kiran's unease. "But if it would ease your mind and put your concerns to rest—even if they venture where they shouldn't—I'll double-check the records when I return to town." His offer was a gesture of understanding, acknowledging Kiran's inquisitiveness even as he reaffirmed his own vigilance.

As they started to make their way back toward the town, Jessie quickly caught up with Kiran.

His address to his sister carried a mixture of concern and exasperation. "Kiran," he called out, his tone gently probing as they walked side by side. "You're not seriously thinking of diving headfirst into this mess while I'm here, are you?" His question held a touch of caution, a reminder of the complex and potentially dangerous situation they found themselves entangled in.

Kiran glanced at her brother, his words prompting her to consider his perspective. His concern was palpable, a reflection of their shared history and the inherent sibling protectiveness that had always characterized their relationship. He continued, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Remember, we used to camp out here in the desert? Thought it might be nice to relive some of those old memories. Plus, it's not like we have Dad breathing down our necks anymore."

Her initial inclination was to dismiss the idea. But as she looked at her brother, the realization struck her—this might be one of the few opportunities they would have to spend quality time together, free from the shackles of responsibilities and concerns.

Nodding, Kiran finally responded her voice a mix of hesitation and acceptance. "You're right. We don't know when we'll have another chance like this." Her words held a touch of wistfulness, a silent acknowledgment of the passage of time and the distance that had come between them. With a newfound sense of determination, she met Jessie's gaze. "Alright, let's head back and gather some things." Her agreement was a step forward, a willingness to embrace the moment and the bond they shared, even amidst the uncertainty that surrounded them.

Later that afternoon, as the sun began its gradual descent, Kiran and her brother ventured into the vast expanse of the Eufaula desert. The golden rays of the setting sun cast a warm and ethereal glow across the landscape, bathing the sand dunes and rocky formations in a rich, amber hue. The sky above was a canvas of brilliant oranges, pinks, and purples, as the day made way for the tranquil beauty of twilight.

With an air of purpose, Kiran led a horse laden with supplies, its hooves softly crunching on the sandy terrain. The desert breeze carried a gentle touch, ruffling her hair and playing with the edges of her clothing. As they moved deeper into the desert, the sounds of the town and its concerns faded into the distance, replaced by the harmonious symphony of nature—the distant calls of desert birds and the rustling of the wind through the hardy desert plants.

The landscape was a study in contrasts. Vast stretches of sand, dunes sculpted by time, rolled gently in the distance, their contours accentuated by the angled rays of the sun. Rocky outcroppings, weathered by years of wind and sand, jutted upward like ancient sentinels, their surfaces painted in shifting shades as the sunlight danced upon them. Sparse vegetation, adapted to the harsh conditions, punctuated the arid terrain—dusty greens and muted browns that whispered of life's tenacious will to survive.

As they continued their journey, the sun sank lower, casting elongated shadows that seemed to stretch into infinity. The desert took on an otherworldly quality as if existing on the cusp between reality and dream. The shifting sands appeared to come alive, their textures transformed by the interplay of light and darkness, creating a tapestry of ever-changing patterns.

With the desert's embrace surrounding them, Kiran and Jessie found a suitable spot to set up camp. The horse was tethered to a sturdy rock, and they began the routine of pitching a tent and arranging their supplies. The fading light of the sun was replaced by the soft glow of a crackling campfire, its warm light casting dancing shadows on the sand.

As the stars began to emerge one by one in the deepening night sky, Kiran and Jessie settled by the fire, their faces illuminated by its flickering glow. The desert, once a vast and unfamiliar landscape, now felt like a familiar friend, a canvas on which they could paint memories anew.

As the flames leaped and danced in response to the rock that Jessie nonchalantly tossed into the fire, the crackling of the campfire provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation. "Sure is quiet out here without Dad's drunken rambling," Jessie remarked, his tone tinged with a blend of humor and nostalgia. Kiran couldn't help but chuckle at the memory of their father's colorful and often incoherent late-night monologues.

Her brother's musings took an unexpected turn as he continued, revealing a sentiment that was both heartfelt and bittersweet. "But even though he's probably passed out back home in Highwind, I didn't think it would be right to not include him in some way." Kiran's gaze fixed on him, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation in her eyes.

With a hint of mischief, Jessie delved into his bag and retrieved a bottle of rich amber liquid. Kiran's breath caught in her throat as she recognized the familiar bottle—a testament to their father's preferred vice. "You didn't," she breathed, her surprise evident. The gesture held a touch of irony, a silent acknowledgment of their father's complexities.

A small smile tugged at Jessie's lips as he admitted, "Stole it from him too. Not that I couldn't have easily bought it myself—I suppose it just seemed fitting." The cap of the whisky bottle twisted open with a soft hiss, and he brought the bottle to his lips for a sip before passing it to Kiran.

Accepting the bottle, Kiran hesitated for a moment before taking a tentative sip of the bitter liquid. The warmth of the whisky spread through her, and she made a slight face in response to its intensity before taking another sip. "Why Dad ever liked this stuff was beyond me," she mused, her voice carrying a mixture of bemusement and distaste.

"And why we ever swiped it from him when we were kids is still a mystery to me," Jessie quipped as he reclaimed the bottle from Kiran's grasp. His gaze lifted skyward, the vast canopy of stars serving as a mesmerizing backdrop to their nocturnal gathering. A moment of quiet stretched between them as if the universe itself held its breath.

Then, as if compelled by an unspoken impulse, he turned his gaze to his sister. "Lewis left last week," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone carrying a heavy weight.

Kiran felt her heart momentarily tighten at the unexpected mention. She quickly brushed the thought aside, not ready to confront the emotions that lurked just beneath the surface. "I don't want to talk about it," she declared her words a firm boundary, a plea to keep the complexity of her feelings at bay.

Sensing her unease, Jessie seemed to relent. The air was thick with a mixture of awkwardness and shared history as he handed the bottle back to Kiran. In a fluid motion, he reached for her guitar. Placing it in his lap, he strummed the strings with practiced ease, producing a melody that resonated with the tranquility of the desert night.

And then he began to sing. His voice, tinged with a quiet melancholy, wove through the night air, the lyrics of a familiar song carrying a timeless wisdom that seemed to echo through the vast expanse of the desert.

"An only child alone and wild, A cabinet maker's son, His hands were meant for different work, And his heart was known to none..."

The melody was a soothing balm, a reminder of the solace that music could offer amidst the complexity of human emotions. As Jessie's voice intertwined with the gentle rustle of the desert breeze, Kiran found herself transported, the weight of the world momentarily lifted as the lyrics echoed through the night.

The atmosphere shifted abruptly, the tranquil night disrupted by a whirlwind of events that left Kiran and Jessie stunned. Jessie's singing abruptly halted, and his swift movement caught Kiran's attention as he shot up from his seated position. She followed his gaze, her heart racing as her brother's posture changed, his once peaceful demeanor now a tightly coiled spring.

Before she could fully process the situation, her eyes widened as Jessie lunged forward, wielding her own guitar as an improvised weapon.

The scene unfolded in a split second—the guitar arcing toward a figure who had materialized on the edges of their campfire's glow, a figure that Kiran recognized all too well: Logan. The clash was swift and brutal, the impact resounding through the desert night as wood met rock.

"Jessie!" Kiran's voice held a mixture of dismay and frustration, her concern directed not only at the destruction of her cherished instrument but also at her brother's impulsive actions. Swiftly rising to her feet, she moved toward the scene, her gaze locked on the unfolding confrontation.

However, Logan's speed proved to be unmatched. The guitar, a prized possession, and vessel of memories, teetered on the brink of ruin as it nearly split in half against a rocky surface. But at that moment, Kiran's priorities shifted from her instrument to the swiftly escalating conflict.

As Jessie's fist surged forward in an instinctive response, Logan's reaction was a testament to his experience. He deftly caught the incoming punch, his movements calculated and precise. The clash of energies hung heavily in the air.

Logan's voice, tinged with casual amusement, broke through the tension. "I'll give you a B+ for that one, partner." His words were a blend of mockery and admiration.

In the midst of the standoff, Kiran moved swiftly, her heart pounding as she reached out to grasp her brother's shoulders. "Don't, Jessie! Enough!" Her voice held a plea, a desperate attempt to quell the rising storm of emotions that threatened to engulf them both. Jessie's confusion was palpable, his gaze flickering between Kiran and the figure before them.

"Yeah, enough, Jessie," Logan chimed in, his tone carrying an undercurrent of amusement that seemed to mock the situation.

Kiran's focus shifted, and she turned to face Logan, her frustration boiling over as she jabbed her finger against his chest.

"And you!" Her voice was raised a mixture of anger and exasperation. "You're the one who snuck up on us." Her accusation was sharp, a reminder of the unexpected intrusion that had ignited the confrontation.

"I'm sorry, but—" Jessie's attempt at explanation was cut short as Kiran turned her attention back to him, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. He took an involuntary step back, his bewilderment evident as he met her gaze. "What the fuck?" His words tumbled out, his eyes searching hers for answers. "Wasn't this the guy you were trying to nab this morning? The one everyone wants to see hanging?"

Logan's voice, once again casual and tinged with his characteristic irreverence, interjected smoothly. "Well, 'hang' might be a bit dramatic—"

Kiran's quick response, a single word laced with a quiet authority, cut through the exchange. "Jessie." Her tone was a gentle reprimand, a reminder to approach the situation with caution.

A sudden flicker of comprehension crossed Jessie's features, his gaze darting between Kiran and Logan as the puzzle pieces fell into place. He directed his attention back to his sister, his tone laced with a mixture of frustration and exasperation. "Oh, Kiran, you didn't," he muttered, annoyance underscored by a hint of disbelief. He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture that seemed to echo his internal conflict.

Laughter erupted from Jessie, a mix of incredulity and sheer disbelief as if he had stumbled upon the most absurd situation imaginable. "Oh, man," he breathed, his laughter tinged with a hint of madness. Slowly, he began to pace within the confined space between them, his movements restless as if caught in a whirlwind of emotions. "Oh, Light help me," he muttered to himself, his words a half-hearted plea that underscored his inner turmoil. His pacing seemed to mirror the chaos that played out within his mind. "I should have just stayed home." His voice held a note of resignation as if he was grappling with the gravity of the situation he had inadvertently found himself in.

A brief pause punctuated his pacing, during which he glanced downward, lost in thought. Then, his gaze shot back up to Logan, and he pointed a finger at him, his tone a mix of incredulity and grim acceptance. "You really got yourself involved with a wild card, man," he stated, his words laden with a blend of amusement and resignation. It was as if he was coming to terms with the fact that chaos seemed to follow Kiran wherever she went.

But then, Jessie's gaze shifted toward Kiran, his expression morphing into something that stirred a mixture of nostalgia and unease within her. It was an expression that eerily resembled their father's, evoking memories of their tumultuous upbringing. "And you—some things don't change, do they?" His voice held a note of concern laced with an undertone of reproach. He pointedly regarded Kiran, his gaze searching for the truth behind her actions. "Going to get yourself in trouble again?" His question was a reminder of the dynamics that had shaped their lives. His voice softened, a trace of vulnerability in his words. "I'll admit, Kiran, now that I think about it, I wouldn't put this kind of stunt past you."

As the weight of their history settled between them, Logan's measured voice cut through the charged atmosphere, addressing Jessie's words with a hint of detached curiosity.

"You always talk to your kin like that?" His question held a quiet challenge, a subtle assertion of his own presence and the complexities that bound them all at this moment. With a deliberate step forward, he seemed to bridge the gap between them, his movements calculated and controlled

Throughout their lives, Kiran maintained resilient patience when it came to her brother's antics. Though he had been a touch exasperating during their younger days, it was a rare occurrence for him to truly rile her. However, his current barrage of accusations cut deeper than she expected, igniting a volatile mixture of emotions that had lain dormant for years. The echoes of their father's reproachful words seemed to reverberate in the desert air, magnifying the weight of Jessie's judgments.

"Really, Kiran?" His words struck with a force that transcended their casual banter, a testament to the intricacies of their shared history. "Dad should have never let you leave," he continued his tone a mix of frustration and concern. The comparison to their father at that moment struck a nerve, drawing an unbidden connection between past and present. His words continued to pour forth, each accusation resonating with the echoes of their tumultuous upbringing. "He wouldn't, if he knew you were going to get involved in this mess." And then, he uttered something that pierced through Kiran's veneer of composure, striking at the heart. "Couldn't keep it to yourself, huh? Planning on getting knoc—"

But Kiran didn't allow him to finish his sentence, nor did Logan need to intervene, because she propelled herself forward with a surge of emotion. With a swift and determined movement, she seized her brother by the collar, forcefully shoving him against the rocky surface behind him. The clash of their gazes was electric, a testament to their shared history and the bonds that ran deeper than mere words.

"Don't say it," she seethed, her voice a barely contained torrent of frustration and anger. At that moment, it felt as if they had regressed to their childhood, lost in the throes of a heated argument. "Take it back," she demanded, her tone reflecting the echoes of the past that had resurfaced.

Jessie's challenge wasn't met with hesitation. "What are you going to do?" he taunted his words a challenge that Kiran accepted with fierce determination. In a fluid maneuver, she expertly shifted her weight, and suddenly, her brother was sprawled on the desert floor beneath her. A sense of déjà vu washed over her as she advanced, placing her foot firmly on his chest.

"Take it back," Kiran's voice held a fervent edge, a combination of raw emotion and unwavering resolve that rippled through the tense desert air.

"What are you going to do, Kiran?" Jessie's voice held a hint of defiance, his question a challenge thrown down amid their heated confrontation. "Have your bandit boyfriend thrown me into the canyon?" His words were laced with a mixture of sarcasm and skepticism, a reflection of the skepticism he had held towards Logan's involvement.

With a controlled movement, Kiran shifted her foot from her brother's chest to his outstretched hand, her intention clear. Her gaze locked onto his, her eyes holding a steely determination. She applied pressure, her grip unyielding as she pressed his hand into the unrelenting desert floor beneath them. Though his expression conveyed his obvious discomfort, Jessie remained defiant, refusing to yield under the pressure.

"Take it back!" Her voice erupted, a sharp cry that resonated through the rocky walls, the echoes of her anger reverberating in the vast expanse around them.

Jessie's gaze remained unyielding, his defiance undeterred by the intensity of the situation. "No," his response was resolute, a testament to his own stubborn determination.

Kiran's frustration flared anew at his obstinacy. She let out an exasperated huff, her anger a presence as it surged through her veins. In a swift motion, she lifted her foot from his hand, the tension evident in the bend of her knee as it hovered in the air. Her gaze locked onto his face, her eyes holding a mix of anger and challenge, ready to assert her dominance in the confrontation.

But her intentions were interrupted before she could execute her next move. Logan had intervened, his arm wrapping around her as he pulled her back with a strength that caught her off guard. She found herself sandwiched between the two men, her frustration momentarily stilled by the unexpected turn of events. The desert night seemed to shimmer with the charged energy of their interaction, a tense tableau of conflicting emotions.

"Enough of this," Logan's voice was a steady command, his tone carrying a measured authority that was difficult to ignore. He asserted his presence with a controlled demeanor, a clear indication that he wasn't willing to let the confrontation escalate further.

And then, his focus shifted to Jessie, his attention unwavering as he addressed the younger man in a manner that surprised both Kiran and Jessie alike. "Apologize to her," his words were unexpected, a request that seemed to hang in the air, its implications carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore.

The silence that followed was thick with uncertainty, the trio standing on the precipice of a fragile truce.

In that pivotal moment, emotions seemed to course through Jessie's demeanor. His gaze darted between the two figures before him, torn between his own convictions and the unexpected intervention that had taken place. As he sat up, he shook out his injured hand, his actions a physical manifestation of his internal conflict.

When his eyes finally settled on Kiran, a silent understanding seemed to pass between them. His nod held a mixture of acceptance and regret, a tacit acknowledgment that transcended words. In that subtle gesture, Kiran recognized an apology of sorts—one borne out of the complicated bond that they shared.

But Jessie wasn't about to let the moment pass without resolution. His voice, laced with a mixture of determination and exasperation, cut through the tense atmosphere. "I need an explanation out of both of you," he stated firmly, his words demanded clarity amidst the tumultuous events that had unfolded. The weight of his words hung in the air, a reminder of the repercussions that could follow.

Kiran's response was equally resolute, her voice carrying a steely resolve. "Fine," she replied, a sense of resignation coloring her tone.

As the charged atmosphere gradually began to subside, the trio found themselves engaged in a conversation that carried with it a weight of explanations and unspoken truths. It was an attempt, as much as could be expected, to bring clarity to the complex circumstances that had unfolded.

"It sounds like a cover-up for something," Jessie's voice held a tinge of skepticism as he voiced his thoughts, his gaze fixed upon the flickering flames of the fire. His words resonated with a suspicion that mirrored the intricate web of conspiracy they found themselves entangled in. But then, he turned his attention toward Logan, his expression contemplative. "Have you considered that angle? Why hide the water if not for a larger distraction?"

Logan's response was measured, a nod that acknowledged the validity of Jessie's inquiry. "That's what has yet to be found out, unfortunately," his words carried an undertone of frustration, a reflection of the puzzle that remained unsolved despite their efforts. The firelight cast shifting shadows across his features, emphasizing the air of mystery that seemed to surround him.

Kiran, her gaze drawn toward Logan, interjected with a piece of information that added depth to their conversation. "They were discussing bringing in a detective earlier," she stated, her voice carrying a note of uncertainty. Her words hung in the air, a reminder of the outside forces that were closing in on their situation.

Logan's response was marked by a sense of detachment, an acceptance of the larger picture that was unfolding. "Let them," he said, his tone unwavering. His words carried a certain resolve as if he had a grasp of the intricate threads that wove through the tapestry of their current circumstances.

The desert night bore witness to their conversation, the firelight casting flickering shadows that danced across the rocky landscape. Their dialogue was underscored by the complexity of their predicament, a reminder that the truth they sought remained elusive amidst the secrets and motives that remained concealed beneath the surface.

Song Kiran sings that is also the title of this ch. Leader of The Band (What Jessie sings) Also a song that is strangely fitting for the amnesia thing

Pictures and stuff made with mid-journey as always.

If you enjoyed it, please let me know! Take care

#my time at sandrock #mtas #mtas fanfic #mtas logan

4 notes · View notes

nagasakidivision · 2 years

Text

Living, Dead (AU ficlet)

doot doot monster au

As promised in the Discord, I finished editing an AU short story ft. Shirou! This is set in the Chronicles of Darkness universe and may only make 35% sense if you aren't familiar with it and its weird but awesome takes on classic movie monsters but hopefully it's at least written well. - < -)b End notes explain things as quickly as I can.

Content Warning: This contains bloodless violence and a brief description of some pretty serious damage to someone's ribcage. I try to be classy about violence and limit describing what's going on to like one line in all my horror-adjacent stories though, if that helps.

The fact he was breathing meant nothing.

She’d thought she was seeing things at first when she watched his breath fog in the cold winter air. But the man who’d mentored her taught her early on that some things could trick the world around them into thinking They were still human.

He hummed thoughtfully, looking around. “I believe their ritual site is another quarter-mile from here. We’re close.”

She knew it was. He wasn’t lying, which shocked her. She’d been anticipating he’d try to lead her into a trap. She’d known there was some sort of blood cult operating in the area for a few weeks now. There was no guarantee he wasn’t part of it, luring her into a trap. Regardless of his plans, she knew she could only allow one outcome from this encounter.

“Are you sure?” She feigned suspicion.

“I’m certain. I chanced upon their last…event, let’s say, the previous month.”

He was beautiful in the moonlight, she thought, all refined, sharp features, with dark, wavy hair and hazel eyes that almost seemed to glow in the night. Every movement was graceful but silent as the grave. It was all a certain hint of his true nature.

“That’s an awful long way to go into the forest,” she said. “Especially at night.” Most of Them had exceptional night vision. Another mark against him.

“I’m aware. But I also work as the groundskeeper here. I saw some people sneaking around in the graveyard, so I went to follow them.” He let out a shuddering breath. “Well, I can’t say I was prepared for what I saw.”

She narrowed her eyes. “But you sound pretty calm, all things considered.” She wondered for a moment if she might be leaning in too hard to the act. Better safe than sorry, though, seeming too trusting would likely make him suspicious.

“Miss, I do work as a mortician. I’m used to some rather gruesome sights.” There was still a small smile on his face. There always was. He’d barely changed expressions since they’d first met face-to-face hours ago. It was striking, in a way that blurred the line between unsettling and effortlessly handsome.

“I’m sure.” She said, simply. It was just as likely he was accustomed to human sacrifices.

“I’m only one person. And I only caught a glimpse of what they were doing for a moment before I ran. I apologize. You can’t stay in my field without noticing, let’s say, certain things.”

She slowed her pace. “Things that don’t stay dead, you mean?”

“Primarily, yes.”

The distance between them was just enough. She would be safe, even if it missed him. She’d have time to prepare as he tried to close the gap. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“I did just say it’s a hazard of my job, didn’t I?” He had the gall to try and sound innocent, that insufferable, beautiful, perfect placid expression still painted across his face.

“You know what I mean. I checked the records at your funeral home.” She stopped dead in her tracks. “Shirou Sonozaki died four years ago, didn’t he?”

He started to turn around, but his ankle caught on the tripwire. The counterweight dropped and the trap was sprung. The wooden beam containing the stake swung down and hit him dead in the heart, the crunch of his ribs splintering ringing out in the night.

He staggered back. She waited for him to drop to the dirt. It was all a well-practiced habit now. She’d take a few moments to drag him out to where the sun would have a clear break in the morning, and then she’d leave. She’d never watched one die, really die, but over the years she’d gained a morbid curiosity. Maybe this time she would try. Her mind was already conjuring images of that pretty face turning to ash.

He didn’t fall. Instead, he looked down at his chest. “Ah. Very clever. I suspected you were going to kill me but I admit I was expecting something a little more direct.”

She couldn’t see his expression, but his tone was as even and gentle as always. She stepped back. Her hand snapped into her bag, and she yanked out a can of hairspray and a lighter. “Don’t move.” She put the lighter in front of the nozzle and leveled it at him. If he was as experienced as she thought, he’d know exactly what he meant.

He tilted his head towards her. He was still smiling, but there was a forlorn quality to it, a weariness in his eyes. “Is that necessary? I thought we were on the same side. I want them gone as much as you do, I’d rather not see anyone go through the same experiences I have.”

She didn’t see any tells that he was lying. But They were a fractious bunch, she knew that from playing some of them against each other, and he might have just wanted rivals out of the way. “I’m not on any monster’s side. Hands in the air. Now.”

Fire was slower. Fire gave time for reprisal. She’d seen especially resilient corpses charge at her while They were still turning to ash. One had smashed her face, and her nose had never quite healed right. It was still better than ending up in a close combat scenario.

He took a few steps in place, turning to face her. He seemed too bright, too vital, too alive with the light of the full moon playing over him. He laughed softly, but there was no mirth to it. “Ah. I’m afraid this won’t do you any good either.”

She could see the entry wound clearly now. Wisps of luminescent vapor coiled around the stake before trailing up to the sky. Where blood and splintered bone should have been, there was a pale blue glow. A gleam of the eerie light caught across his glasses as he tilted his head. Her breath caught in her throat.

“I’m terribly sorry. But I’m not that kind of dead man.”

The blue glow enveloped him. His form dissolved to shapeless mist, then blew away on the cold winter wind. The forest was cold, dark, and silent again.

Post-Script Note: That feel when you make a deal with a minor god of death to complete some unfinished business and it has its own goals in the living world too and it won't let you die again so now you're an impossible abomination acting in defiance of life and death without being either and the Underworld as an abstract metaphysical force keeps trying to arrange situations to claim you again since the universe knows you shouldn't exist! Just relatable little monster things! Gotta love being Schrodinger's Zombie!

#hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #nagasaki division #fan division #geist the sin eaters #hi don't judge me for this blog cofd fans #i have extremely varied interests #shirou sonozaki

8 notes · View notes

theomegahandmaid · 2 years

Text

OUR FIRST MEETING (04/12/21)

This was the first formal event I'd attended since being back. I've been working non-stop, taking extra shifts at the hospital, trying to get accustomed to my new life. The Gala was extravagant. My mother went all out, as usual, especially for these grand occasions. She took the weight of the Non-profit for the night; the main goal was to raise a hefty check for children in need.

She had persuaded me to attend; the drawn-out need for me to show my face. The people yearned to meet me, the only daughter of the Grand Duke. My return to Ezera was well publicized; being shipped out of the kingdom at ten would do that. There was this cloud of mystery around my name, and I was not prepared to live up to the expectations drawn up about me.

I initially agreed to come because it was a charity event obviously, but I also wanted to ease my mother's mind. So here I stood in a room filled with people I didn't know, laughing at unintelligible jokes, trying my best to keep up my appearance. I've been here for the past three hours introducing myself for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. My mother took great pride in showing me off. Being a cardiologist at such a young age and an Omega at that, she practically was auctioning me off to the next eligible bachelor.

I got dolled up for the first time in too long, and my mother ensured I looked as regal as my family's name. I wore a silver dress that contrasted the earthy theme of the party. My lips were painted crimson and my hair curled as it hung down my back. I was beautiful and stood out not only because of my appearance but my scent. I smelt like cinnamon vanilla; my pheromones lightly filled as I sashayed around the floor.

"Sis, did you really forget your ID?" My best friend Kennie laughed as I recalled my last shift. I was finally allowed to relax and have a drink or two with one of the few familiar faces at this party. Well, that was before my mother laid eyes on me as I walked into the garden. " Mija, come here," she beaconed as a smile danced across her face. Kennie gave me an apologetic look as we unlocked our arms; time to perform again.

" You called?" I asked sarcastically as I approached her. She stood alongside a man, one I've not met before. " Yes, I want you to meet someone," she said gesturing to the tall man before us. He outstretched his arm, a small smile making its way onto his face.

"Chris, nice to meet you." His voice was smooth and I instantly got lost in his sapphire eyes. " Shania," my retort was softer than anticipated. Mother went on raving about how accomplished I was, and I just wanted to fade into the night sky. It wasn't as bad as I made it sound, but I just wasn't used to all this attention being on me. Chris stood attentive as he listened to my mother, sparing me glances now and then.

The conversation was soon interrupted when my cousin approached us, informing my mother of a problem causing her to excuse herself. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do now. Thankfully Chris sensed my shyness and decided to initiate a conversation. "So, you spent eight years working with the United Realms?" I shyly nodded as looked at his features under the soft lighting.

" Yeah, I studied pre-med in Domincanta for three and finished my general training for the last five in Colombec," I said proudly, smiling up at him. " Impressive," he retorted, capturing me with his blue orbs. The conversation surprisingly went smoother than expected. Chris initiated most of it, probably picking up my bashfulness. I was eventually rescued by Kennie just as my social meter was at its brink. "Do you mind if I steal this lady?" She said smiling playfully at me.

" Of course not," he replied.

"It was nice meeting you," he offered me a sweet smile and I smiled softly as we bided our goodbyes. I felt weirdly at peace, most of my interactions tonight felt forced, but with Chris, it felt natural. I wasn't exactly a social butterfly, I knew I wasn't the most interesting to converse with, but he kept me engaged.

The rest of the night went as expected; mom raised a hefty donation for the children, my existence was made apparent, and I got to end my night with a warm bubble bath and a few episodes of Couple court.

#Fantasy #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha beta omega

2 notes · View notes

sweet-vanilla-sims · 17 days

Text

Year 1672 - Part 1

TW/CW: Death, Child Death

Marina grew into a curious little girl after outgrowing her infancy while age became all the clearer in Tala.

Now that Marina was bigger and required less constant attention, Orsa and Alessandro were able to give each other more of their time though their daughter was also happy to join in on cuddles from her Mama and Papa.

Despite living in the same home, the Morosini family were living two mostly separate lives as the newlyweds spent most of their time together in their own bubble of marital bliss before their baby was to arrive and Giulia was happy to watch her two youngest children grow into themselves.

But as the spring came without rains, Orsa was the first to vocalize the fears of another famine especially as San Sequoia had been hit with one for years now... she feared that it was now their turn.

Of course, the younger children were shielded from the worries the adults faced by making them study at least until anything could be officially confirmed.

In a small ceremony, Leonardo and Katharine married that March. Growing the Ludovici family in an official sense.

Now that Marcello was older, he was getting an education since it seemed that despite Landon's marriage, it may not result in children meaning he might actually be in the running for head of the household after his uncle but he had no interest in that. While Orsolina did want the security the head of household could bring them, she wasn't keen on making her son do anything he didn't want to but in a lot of ways he reminded her of Orelia who couldn't stay in Tartosa because of her personality. She wanted her son to find his own path and so despite not wanting to deal with succession issues she hoped that Landon and Jolene would work through whatever they had and produce an heir to lift the burden off her son's shoulders.

Juliette grew into a little girl who loved to play and laugh. While her father and stepmother could seemingly careless about her especially as they prepared for a new child of their own, her older siblings particularly her brother were actually quite eager to welcome her now that she was old enough to play with.

The fears of famine reaching the shores of Tartosa were true though as the Morosini crops died off. Luckily the family had plenty of stored foods so it was fine for them but the fears of an extended famine were lingering in the back of their minds. That said, the newlyweds had a youthful sense of optimism and support for each other. Giulia however couldn't help but remember the loss of her sister, Osana. Worse yet, war had broken out and while thankfully there weren't too many people enlisted, Giulia was saddened to hear that her former brother-in-law, the head of the Ludovici family had died that May shortly after his birthday.

Ashley's pregnancy was progressing nicely albeit she was much larger than anticipated but when the midwife revealed that there was certainly more than one in there, that explained it. With Ashley growing larger she was glad for Giulia's expertise with pregnancy and given that Giulia had delivered two sets of twins she was all too familiar with the oversized nature of multiples. In a way though it was a stroke of luck that the planting season had been blighted by the famine in that when the children were born likely near harvest time Giuliano would be around to help more what with having no plants to harvest.

July brought with it, Marina's paternal aunt also joining her as a little girl which was good since the Rossi family was incredibly close and now their girls could play together properly.

Unfortunately, Orsa had taken ill and any water she took in was quickly and violently expelled. She was drained all the time and it didn't help that the water they did have was mostly old and stagnant with the freshest water being given to her young daughter. The physician they saved up to hire couldn't really do much for her and on August 4th she went to bed to rest and never got up.

The losses didn't stop as Ashley learned of the passing of her two aunts to the famine which made her heart break especially for her cousins who she knew were now orphaned though only two of them were still pretty young.

Ashley went into labor late at night at the start of September and while the family had been expecting multiples early in the morning on the 2nd, the birth of triplets, Baldissere, Bastiano, and Borthola still left them unprepared.

Orsolina had long hid her own illness especially after the loss of her sister to keep spirits in the family as high as she could but even the water for the nobility wasn't the best quality and the same illness that had claimed her sister that August took her not two weeks after the birth of her brother's children on the 14th.

Marcello often spent time at the Morosini home following his mother's death. Cristofolo had always been closer to their paternal grandmother so both boys took comfort in the family that brought them peace as they processed the loss of their mother.

What should have been a happy time having welcomed three new infants into the family was soured not only by loss but by fear as young Olimpia also began to show signs of illness. She was often so weak and plagued by intense cramping and anything that went in was too often violently expelled.

But still, even among the worries the family made it work as they took shifts to care for not only the infants but Olimpia. Ashley was often asleep downstairs away from the crying infants when she wasn't needed to nurse them as she was constantly tired while Giuliano found that the time spent with his children kept him busy without the farm work.

But despite the constant care for the youngest of Giulia's children, on the 24th of October she slipped away after a long and drawn out battle.

0 notes

sugarxlumps · 3 years

Text

Can't Help It

______________________________________________________________

Hey guys! Oml I promise, I'll do other characters after this :') I just couldn't help myself, Gojo Satoru has my heart

Note: Image is not mine, Gojo as a character also isn't my own :)

WARNINGS: degredation, choking, mating press, hot smut ;)

______________________________________________________________

He was too much; Gojo Satoru. He knew too much. Too much of how to get a rise out of you, leaving you flustered and stammering, and you knew this. The moment he got too close to getting you melt at his touch, his long teasing fingers brushing against your thigh, the way he slid his hand at the small of your back to make his way through, even when there was all the space in the world. As he moved past, you could barely make out that he said "Excuse me, miss", his warm breath hitting your ear as he grazed by you, causing you to shiver visibly and your breath hitch. Your head whipped around to follow his steps as he walked away from you. He used any excuse to lay his hands on you. Which is exactly why you avoided him like the plague.

Only when it was absolutely necessary did you ever interact with him, attempting to avoid his dangerously sweet touches that wreaked havoc on your body as it was. You could only imagine how euphoric his hands would feel on the rest of your body, especially to your neglected cunt that’s been craving attention… his attention specifically. You've tried to extinguish the fire in your body that craves his cock at night yourself, but it just isn't the same.

But of course Gojo knew this; making his way back home from missions and he hears you with your windows open. But your avoidance of him definitely doesn't go unnoticed either. You train 1:1 with Nanami twice a week; not being a direct student of his own, it's surprising he commits that much time to you along with the other things he's got going on. Training days are the days that Gojo grumbles about as he could think of a much better use of that time "Damn, I could be making her scream right now” He finds himself murmuring aloud. But with the strings he's pulled on Nanami, you won't be able to avoid him any longer and he'll have you all to himself.

_____________

"What? That doesn't even make any sense, why would they do that?" You questioned Nanami in annoyance, clear to hear through the speaker of his phone.

"I'm the wrong person to be asking that, y/n. I'm in no mood to debate this. I won't be coming back until next week, so just take the week off." Nanami huffed, his tone almost apologetic; he knew how dedicated you were to training.

You sighed in annoyance. "No. You know I can't do that."

"Okay, then ask Gojo."

You froze, a silence coming over the line. "Y/n?"

"No. I can't do that either." You clenched you teeth. Damn, did you really have to? Of course, he just had to be the only teacher left.

"Then I don't know what to tell you, y/n. It's either him, or take the week off" And with that, Nanami fared you goodbye through the speaker and hung up.

Well damn, this is the true test of dedication huh? Well just no fun and games then you thought to yourself. You gotta get to work. You commit reluctantly, your body already tensing up.

After hesitating, I finally dial Gojo and a few rings go by until you hear his familiar voice.

"Hey there pretty. Now to what do I owe the pleasure?" Gojo teases. You gulp at the nickname, but roll your eyes as if to convince yourself.

"Look, just calling to see if you can train with me this week. Usual times I do with Nanami. Yes or no?" You ask plainly.

Gojo chuckles over the speaker, his husky voice sending shivers to your spine. "Jeez, so cut and dry huh? I might do with some manners, y/n" He remarks playfully, his plans already falling into place. He knows you'd try to be acting like the straightest arrow with him, but he knows just how to make you crumble.

You huff before speaking again. "Can you train with me this week… please" You ask hesitantly.

"There, see? Not too bad, right?" You can hear the smirk in his voice, imagining that damned wicked smirk of his that could make your breath hitch.

"8:30 tonight, my place"

"Y-you're place?" You stutter a bit, not expecting him to offer his place. "Why not the studio?"

"Don't worry, I've got one at my place. You forget who I am, doll." He purrs the nickname, making you part your mouth and a small flame ignite in your core. "I'm the greatest sorcerer after all; work hard play hard all from the comfort of my own home."

You think it over. I mean I guess it'd be closer to home than training on campus, a plus since training gets excruciating to walk home from.

"Okay, fine. I'll be there" You huff. You hang up and sigh once more. This should be interesting.

_____________

You wince in pain, as your body thuds to the floor from where Gojo had knocked you back. You're quick to get up, holding the side of your waist.

"You've got quite the fire there, sweetness" He smirks, shifting his glasses down to wink at you. He's been shooting flirty remarks all through session, only 30 minutes having passed with you two sparring and it's getting you irritated. But only at the fact that he knows just what to say to get you all riled up with heat rising to your cheeks.

You lunge at him again, but he grabs your arm to pull your body in and spinning you around to face him. He's pinned one hand behind your back and holding your other by your wrist, pinning it to his chest. "You're getting ahead of yourself, y/n. You're becoming a little predictable. Loosen up a bit, hm sweetie?" He breathes on your lips, grazing too dangerously close to them as wetness begins to drip from your cunt.

You try to compose yourself, and annoyance overcomes you once again. You elbow him and swing at him again, this time imbuing cursed energy into your fist as it burns black, preparing for a black flash.

He swiftly catches your fist in his, the power of the contact between your swing and his hand causing the wall behind him to cave into a dent. He grips your wrists and turns your back to him as he pulls you up against his chest, your head hitting his shoulder.

You grunt in pain at the contact.

"Gotta admit that burned a little, princess" He growled into your ear, only sending more of your slick gushing to your pussy and threatening to leak through your panties and onto your thighs. "I might have to punish you for that one."

"Gojo, please." Your voice cracks. You weren't even sure of what you were pleading for; for him to continue? For him to stop? You couldn't help yourself any longer, and it was all lost upon you now as you could feel the hardness of his bulge through his pants grinding up against you.

"Please what y/n? Want me to stop? Or keep going? You're going to have to be specific with me darling" He suggests, his grip on your wrists tightening and grinding his hard-on harder against you, the contact almost lifting up your skirt itself. You groan unconsciously at the feeling of how big he was with his pants still constricting him, giving Gojo the answer he already knew, but he wanted it spilling from your lips specifically.

"P-please, don't stop" You gasp as he nips at your neck, sucking harshly only to lick at the tender spot as if to heal it. His hand releases your wrists to grope your breasts through your uniform, slowly unbuttoning the jacket and throwing it aside.

"That's what I like to hear" Gojo chuckles darkly in your ear, ripping the rest of the top of your uniform off, revealing your bra. He unhooks it swiftly, letting your tits drop bare in front of him as he gazes down at them.

"Shit, y/n" He breathes, quick to roll them between his fingers as he continues to trail kisses down your neck and licks stripes up to your ear, eliciting lewd moans from you. He dips his hand between your legs, running a finger along your clothed folds, feeling your slick instantly.

"Damn baby, all for me? Is this how wet you are when you're touching yourself at night moaning my name?" He seethes, his voice making you tremble and you cheeks flush pink at embarrassment that he could hear you all this time trying to relieve your thirst for him and his touch. You could do nothing but moan in admittance.

He chuckles at your response. He hooks his fingers around your skirt and the hem of your panties, sliding them both off in unison. He turns you around to face him, wanting to see the look on your face when he finally touches you in the spot you needed him most.

He doesn't wait to slide two of his fingers into you, your slick walls clenching desperately around his digits as you moan and gasp loudly at the unexpected stretch and sting from him entering you just with his fingers. You clutch onto his arm tightly, mentally cursing to yourself why you're the one completely naked while he's here still fully clothed.

"See baby? Look at you" Gojo groans into your ear at the tightness of your pussy clenching around his fingers, already anticipating how you'll feel wrapped around his cock that's straining painfully against his pants. "Making such a mess on my fingers, and I've barely done anything" He begins to pump his fingers, curling them to hit your sweet spot repeatedly with dangerous accuracy. You moan loudly at the sensation, heat continuing to build in your core and your body tingling.

"G-gojo" You pant breathlessly, clutching onto him for dear life as your legs give out, leaning on him for support, silently thanking him for being as strong as he is.

"Mmm" He groans at how sinful you moan his name. "Such a good girl for me"

Your pussy clenches tighter around his digits, pushing him to add a third as you yelp at the stinging stretch, now clawing at the back of his neck.

Gojo laughs sadistically, "So you want me to talk to you like that, huh?" He asks rhetorically, your body and moans already agreeing.

He continues the thrust his fingers into you, curling them against your walls to graze perfectly on your sweet spot, bringing you closer to the relief you've been craving since you laid eyes on him.

"G-gojo… I-I'm.. I'm gonna" You try to say, but the words fail to gather together in a coherent sentence.

"What's that y/n? What do you need?" He urges on, only thrusting his fingers faster into you to push you over the edge.

"Oh my god, Satoru! I-I'm cumming!" You moan, cutting you off as he presses his lips hungrily to yours to swallow your moans. You bite his lip, causing a moan to escape his own lips. He hungrily massages your breast as he continues to finger you to ride out your orgasm as you trembling in front of him at his touch. You were his.

He gives you a moment to recollect yourself and catch your breath, showering you with feather-light kisses down your collarbone.

"Please Satoru… I need you" You whisper, desire pooling in your eyes and dripping in your tone as you palm his hard-on through his pants that twitches under your touch.

"Since you asked so nicely…" He smirks, that damn smirk that makes your knees weak as he continues to hold you up. He clasps his hand together to warp you both, and within a blink of an eye your surroundings are no longer that of the studio, but of his room; dark with only the moonlight shining through big elegant windows.

"How can I deny such a request, when you're this hot and bothered?" He caresses your face, cupping it in his hand as he runs his thumb over the bottom of your lip. "Such a pretty slut for me" He growls lowly.

At that, your pussy clenches again, sending heat to your core and biting down on his thumb, earning a groan from him. He quickly puts a hand to your throat, squeezing the sides of it enough to have your head to nod back slightly and your eyes flutter behind your eyelids as you moan.

"Mm so you want it like that?" He laughs as he swiftly picks you up to set you down on the bed.

"You dirty little thing" He licks his lips at the sight of you finally splayed out on his bed for him as he unbuttons his uniform and unbuckling his pants, discarding them to the floor only to leave him clad in his briefs.

You drool at the sight of him, both your mouth and your pussy watering at the sight of him strip in front of you. The sight you've been waiting for, for what feels like ages now. Your eyes rake over his figure as you prop yourself on your elbows. Looking over how muscular and toned his muscles are with each movement he makes, how big the bulge in his briefs are, how massive his bare frame is to yours, and how celestial his eyes are as he devours your own figure with such dark lust and desire, making heat only ignite further within you.

He pushes his way through your thighs, settling himself between them as he kisses trails from your thighs to your navel, and reaching your breasts to suck on your nipple tenderly, kneading them between his teeth. You arch your back at the sensation, entangling your fingers in his silver hair as you gasp and your brows furrow. His hand massages your breast and travels down to cup your cunt, his fingers grazing the opening of your folds. He lowers his head down between your thighs, taking in the sight of your glistening pussy that he's gotten all to himself.

"F-fuck, Satoru, just -" You plead, but before you could finish he puts a hand to your throat harshly.

"Patience, princess" He seethes, giving kitten licks to the outer folds of your cunt just for a taste. "Now that I finally have you, I'm taking my time. Besides, isn't this what you wanted? For me to have my way with you?" He smirks as you glance down at him, regretting that you did. The devilish glint hazing over his eyes sending heat waves to your pussy. He finally delves his tongue through your folds without warning and settling to suck on your throbbing clit as he enters two fingers into you, pumping and curling them.

You thrash your head back, clawing at his forearms and shoulders as he pries your thighs a part with his hands. You feel the familiar wave of an orgasm beginning to wash over you again as he continues to curl his fingers into your g-spot and circle his slick tongue around your clit, quenching his thirst with the juices of your cunt as he laps up every last drop.

"Mmm… Satoru, I-I'm close" You warn him, your body becoming a feverish mess as you claw at him desperately, as Gojo smirks at the thought of having such marks in the morning as a reminder of tonight.

"Are you now?" He immediately pulls away, leaving you to throw your head back and groan in frustration, taking your eyes off him for a brief moment enough for him to remove his briefs. The next time you look back at him, your eyes widen hungrily at his cock, adoring how perfect it looks, yet wondering if it'd even fit.

"Don't worry, baby. Daddy's gonna take very good care of you tonight" He purrs, sliding back between you , kissing and sucking the sweet spot of your neck.

"But you have to be the one to tell me exactly what you want" He adds with a chuckle, clearly amused at how you pout slightly, so desperate to have him inside you as you tug on his waist lightly in attempt to pull him closer to you.

He nudges the tip of his cock at your entrance as he lowers his head to graze his lips against yours. "C'mon y/n, you can do it. Tell me what you've been wanting this whole time, baby" He teases raspily, the same hunger in his voice also evident as he tries to hold himself back.

"Please fuck me Satoru" He whimper, surrendering completely as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

With that, he delves his cock through your tight folds, gripping and clenching around every inch of him as he eventually bottoms out, causing you to moan in unison.

"Damn, your pussy's taking my cock so fucking well baby" He grunts as he continues to thrust into you at a powerful pace. "What a perfect slut you make" He smiles cockily, slamming roughly into you as moans continue to fall from your lips. "That's right princess, let the whole school know who fucks you this good" He urges

Your eyes roll behind your eyelids at the euphoric sensation of Gojo stretching you out, filling you up so well that you see a slight bulge in your stomach when he thrusts into you, hitting your cervix and your g-spot every time. The sounds of your hips crashing and the sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts into you mercilessly are too much, already feeling heat building up in your core once again.

"You've been so desperate for my cock, isn't that right princess? Look at you, screaming and begging for me to fuck you like a bitch in heat" He seethes, lowering himself to suck harshly on your nipple, causing you to arch your back as he looks back up at you "How does it feel now that you've got the real thing?" He asks, pushing further into your as your legs press against his shoulders, folding them more onto your chest as he continues to pump his cock into you, pressing into your cervix.

You moan loudly at how deep he hits you, his adjustment causing his cock to hit deeper on your g-spot, your orgasm approaching embarrassingly quick. You continue to moan thoughtlessly, your mind too hazy to begin formulating a response. He puts a hand to your throat and picks up his pace slightly, making you yelp and gasp.

"I demand an answer, pretty" He growls this time, his eyes hungry with desire to hear you fall apart for him.

"Y-yes Satoru! It feels so fucking good!" You cry out, tears now dripping across your cheeks. "Satoru, please." You whimper, "I-I'm gonna cum"

"Cum baby, give it to me" He groans, thrusting relentlessly a couple more times until you unravel before him, completely becoming undone as you claw at his back in desperation, only fueling him more to continue thrusting deep into you to ride out your second orgasm of the night. Once he feels you slightly relax under him, he folds you over more, completely this time. With knees pressed back into the mattress, giving him all and complete access to your pussy to pound it just how he likes, how he's always wanted to.

He groans to keep himself together, close from cumming at this sight alone at how beautiful you look beneath him. "Damn sweetness, you've got me riled up here." he pants, his eyes cast with lust and carnal desire as he looks at you. " Do you know how long I've been waiting to touch you like this? To fuck you like this?" He caresses your jaw, his fingers trailing down to your collarbone and down to your breast to roll your nipple in his fingers. He dips down to connect his lips greedily to yours, emotions spilling out into the kiss as your tongues swirl around each other, everything all at once making you dizzy as you moan sweetly into his mouth, tugging at his hair to elicit a moan to slip from his own as it vibrates against your lips. "To kiss you like that" He says huskily, desire overcoming him.

He pushes himself into you, your walls suffocating around his cock as he groans at the feeling of it. Your mouth parts in a silent scream, sure that you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow with how he’s stretching you out. He's thrusting even deeper into you now, with more raw, carnal desire than before if it were even possible. You mouth parts as you moan loudly without any regards as to who hears you. Your sopping pussy squelching as he slams his hips into yours, the sight of him fucking you into oblivion as his bright blue eyes devour yours, licking his lips ravenously.

"Satoru" You moan sinfully, so much so Gojo has to bite his lip to stop his own eyes from rolling to the back of his eyelids.

"G-gojo, it's t-too much" You moan, putting a hand lightly to his abdomen in a failed attempt to get him to slow down. You've cum so hard, you've never even brought yourself to cum this intensely, this many times consecutively.

"Too much, huh? Already fucked out on my cock, sweetness?" He chuckles, yet adoring the sight of you fucked out on his cock. All you could do was nod and whimper in response.

"Too bad, baby. You think I'm gonna stop here after I've heard you moaning my name so many times by yourself? Such a needy slut" He whispers salaciously into your ear, grunting occasionally with how rough he's pounding himself into you.

Your pussy clenches at his words, more tears streaming down your cheeks with nothing but moans of his name and curses from your lips calling out to him. He wipes them away gently, a harsh contrast to how hard he continues to slam his thick cock into you, a contrast to how his infinite blue eyes pierce into you.

"That's right, y/n." He smiles "You'll take it all like a good girl, right?" He licks a stripe up your nick to nibble on a sweet spot by your collarbone, causing you to only moan louder. "Let everyone know who's fucking cunt this is" He growls lowly. He slips two fingers into your open mouth, your tongue and mouth sucking on them instinctively. He groans at the sight of you like this, folded over sucking on his fingers as saliva trails down the side of your mouth, your eyes and body surrendering to him completely as he dedicates this moment to memory.

"You're mine, princess" He remarks possessively before removing his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva still connecting from your lips to the tip of his digits. He brings them down to rub small circles on your throbbing neglected clit, causing you to scream in desperation and euphoria, your back arching to him slightly in the position you're in. You're pussy grips even tighter around his cock at his possessive words making you his. Another wave of pleasure begins washing over you, threatening to push you off a new edge as he drives you near the brink of being overstimulated.

"Fuck, good girl, just like that" He pants, as he continues thrust unforgivingly into you.

"Satoru, p-please!" You moan loudly, almost screaming desperately for him, only to for him to cut you off with a hand to your throat. "Say it, baby. Tell daddy what you need" He exhales, eyes engulfing yours completely.

"Please make me cum" You mewl, a couple of more tears streaming down your face as your body is on the brink of uncoiling the spring that he's wound up so tightly. He slamming himself into you in a slightly faster pace, his thrusts getting sloppier as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, indicating he was also close to his own climax.

"Fuck baby, cum for me" He demands, finally allowing your body to release the most intense waves of orgasm you've ever felt, your body on a new high as he continues to thrust into you, your climax fueling his own to follow after. He slows and stills into you, his cock still twitching as he coats the last of his cum along the walls of your cunt.

He removes himself slowly with a groan, laying beside you and quick to pull you to his chest.

"No more avoiding me, okay?" He exhales raspily, gently moving your hair down from your shoulders to place a kiss there.

"Okay" You hum happily as you nuzzle deeper into his chest, fatigue overcoming you as you both lay together.

#gojo smut #gojou smut #jjk smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

634 notes · View notes