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upon-a-starry-night · 2 months

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Number Neighbors Pt.25

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

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Nat doesn’t respond to any of your texts, she doesn’t explain why she was sorry, nor does she show up on Friday. You waited at the cafe for 3 hours before you finally accepted that she wasn’t coming. You had been too anxious to order coffee so you ordered a tea but it had long gotten cold. The barista would glance at you every so often with pity and embarrassment burned your cheeks.

You threw the cold tea in the trash and left the cafe vowing to avoid this part of town for a while. You were hurt and angry but more than anything you were confused. She had seemed thrilled to meet you and it was her idea in the end so why was she bailing on you? The thought that she wasn’t who she claimed to be quietly crept up on you throughout the day but you’d heard her voice, at the very least she wasn’t a 60-year-old man. At least she didn’t sound like one.

You’re looping through the five stages of grief throughout the week and by the end of it, you're a sobbing mess in your friend's arms. There’s copious amounts of ice cream in your freezer and a bottle of wine has already been emptied as the two of you find yourself back on your couch but this time the circumstances are less enjoyable.

“I don't understand what I did wrong” Your friend gently caresses your hair as you stain her shirt with salty tears. She’d known the second she saw you that something was wrong and you’d nearly broken down on your lunch break in front of her when she asked if you were alright.

Even your mother seemed to notice something was off just by the sound of your voice. She’d threatened to come down and maim the person that hurt you and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that neither of you would know where to find her.

“Maybe she’s just scared?” Your friend tried to reason. You don’t know how long she’s been comforting you but it’s the only thing keeping you from texting Nat again. You’ve ranged from screaming at her through texts to sending her sob-ridden voicemails and you hoped to keep at least a small part of your dignity intact.

“But it was her idea!” You argue “and she knows I wouldn’t be mad if she wasn’t ready. I just don’t understand why she won’t respond” A fresh wave of anger washes over you as you get up from the couch, your hands waving wildly as you make your way to the fridge “And what was with that cryptic text?! Why couldn’t she just say why she was sorry? What’s an apology without an explanation?”

You angrily grab a carton of ice cream and two spoons, huffing as you plop down on the couch and handing the spare spoon to your companion. You instinctively reach out for your phone, checking to see if Nat’s at least read your messages. She hasn’t.

You go to text her again, fueled by frustration despite your thread of unanswered messages. They stare tauntingly at you as the blue light assaults your tired teary eyes.

Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Are you okay? We don’t have to meet but I’m getting worried about you

Y/n🍦:

Nat? I’m going to call.

Y/n🍦:

I never realized you don’t have a voicemail tone

I was hoping I’d get to hear your voice one last time

Y/n🍦:

You know what? Screw you, I don't deserve this!

Y/n🍦:

I didn’t mean it. I miss you.

I’m calling again.

You make a move to text her again but your friend slips the phone from your hands before you get the chance. She deletes whatever jumbled mess you had started typing and sets your phone behind her so you can’t reach it. You simultaneously want to scream at her and thank her.

“Maybe we should give her some time?” You pick up on what she’s saying immediately. Realizing she might not be talking about Nat. You only manage a small nod as you slump further into the couch and start eating your ice cream.

“Can we put something on?” Your friend nods and turns the TV on and you’re grateful for the temporary distraction but you know the second she leaves you’ll probably send Nat another voicemail.

The silence allows you ample time to give in to your anxiety, realizing you don’t know as much as you probably should about Nat. You don’t know her last name, if she has any siblings, what she does for a living. For all you know, she could be a contract assassin, it would make sense why she disappeared all the time.

You had no idea who you’d been talking to and now that you’d grown an attachment to her she ghosted you. Had that been her plan the whole time? Was this some kind of game to her? Did she even really care about you? Your thoughts swirl and grow into a ball of anxiety and paranoia and you stare blankly at the TV as the cold of the metal spoon presses into your tongue.

Nat lays on the cold pullout couch of her trailer and stares at the ceiling for what feels like days. It’s all she can bring herself to do when she’s not busying herself with other distractions. When she doesn’t distract herself her mind wanders to you.

She promised she’d never make you cry. Her heart squeezes at the thoughts that must be running through your head. She’d had to leave her phone behind at the tower but she’d gotten a glimpse of your worried messages while she was packing. She felt horrible to leave you without an explanation but how would you believe her if she told you over text?

She planned to tell you everything when you met but now she wouldn’t get the chance. And all because of the stupid government treaty Stark wanted them to sign. It made her impossibly angry just thinking about Thursday evening.

*The Avengers had all gathered in the meeting room, except Peter who was taking tests at school that he didn’t want to miss. The room was tense as Tony flipped through pictures and videos of the destruction their fights often led to, only stopping when Steve told him to. Nat could understand where Tony was coming from, she understood that the wreck that became the city was distressing but if it meant lives were saved wasn’t it worth it?

She refused to be under anyone’s control ever again now that she had her freedom. She wasn’t going to be put on a leash. They already complied with all of the publicity stunts and interviews the government made them do but now they wanted to control their lives? What were they going to do next tell her how to breathe?

Not to mention she didn’t want them getting involved in her relationships. She couldn’t have them knowing about you- controlling you. She wouldn’t let them take you from her. She smiled at the thought of you, glancing at her phone to see your good luck message.

“Well you can tell them your opinions face to face” Natasha’s head snaps up at Tony’s words and Bucky fixes him with a suspicious glare

“You better not be saying what I think you are Stark” He seeths out and Tony just shrugs, checking his watch

“They’ll be here in a few hours, I already agreed to sign it” The room erupts in a flurry of outrage. Wanda is the first to leave, scoffing as she pushes out of her chair and makes her way to the meeting room door. Vision follows after her, worry evident on his features.

Steve is still arguing with Tony trying to reason with him but it seems like it’s falling on deaf ears and Nat watches as her family begins crumbling in front of her eyes. She stays stoically silent, unsure of what to say to stop the fighting that's only getting worse. Bucky looks half ready to sock Tony in the face and she wouldn’t fault him for it but she doesn’t want violence to break out nonetheless.

“They backed me into a corner! We don’t have any other options! We don’t know what they’ll do to us if we don’t agree!” She can hear the desperation in Stark’s voice; the fear. A man who was always trying to prevent what could happen so much that he became oblivious to what was happening.

“We don’t know what they’ll do to us if we do!” It’s the last thing Bucky says before he storms out of the room, Steve following not soon after. Tony looks to Bruce but he only solemnly shakes his head, sitting quietly in his chair as he tries to think of another solution.

Stark tries to reason with Nat but she just sighs. She doesn’t know how to solve this yet but she’ll figure out a solution. For now, she needs to do what she assumes the rest of her family is doing: Pack and find a place to hide out for a while. She’d seen what the government does to powerful people they don’t trust- she’d been part of some of those missions. She knows it’s in their best interest not to stick around unless they want to be thrown onto The Raft until they agree to sign their lives away.*

That’s how she ended up here, in the middle of nowhere, cold and alone. She’d had to leave her phone behind so that she couldn’t be tracked and that meant she couldn’t text you. She briefly considered texting you from a burner phone, she had your number memorized but she didn’t want to freak you out and she was worried about how you’d react.

She didn’t want to have to tell you the truth over the phone, and what were the chances of you believing it was her? Most of all she was terrified that you’d be angry, that you’d tell her you never wanted to hear from her again. You would be justified in that response but she wasn’t ready to face that just yet. So she busied herself with concocting any possible ways to get her family safe and back together again.

Pt.26

A/n: Sorry for the late chapters I've been rewriting them until they feel good enough to put out. (Also yes this is based on Civil War but it doesn't follow the same outcome)~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013

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cloverthebarbearian · 5 months

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Do You Think Of Me...?

Rolan x AFAB/OC, NSFW, 6,034 Words

A fic inspired by an incredible piece of fanart by @sammakesart, the full image of which is a patreon exclusive that is well worth the money and has been living in my head rent free for weeks. For WEEKS. (Ref Sheet for OC)

"I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…" Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?" Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…" Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins. "What… what do you mean?"

It was a lively evening at the Elfsong. Swarms of friends deep in drink and song flooded the tables of the tavern, the Hero of Baldur's Gate among them. Busy catching up with Cal and Lia, Clover took a healthy chug of their pint amidst the laughter around them.

"And THEN he tried to tell us 'an unseen servant would be more useful'," Lia continued her ranting, "Like, sure Rolan. Good luck gettin' an invisible jester ta' help with your customers."

Apparently, Rolan had been particularly difficult to work with this past week. Between drinks, Lia was busy retelling all of his criticisms and complaints over his siblings earnest attempts to help him run Sorcerous Sundries. Now that he was the Master of Ramazith's Tower, he had to learn all of said Tower's secrets - on top of learning to run an already successful business. Admittedly an overwhelming task as is, and likely even more so for a perfectionist like Rolan.

Cal followed Lia's complaints with his own, "I get that it's been a lot as of late. But you'd think the man would be grateful to have the extra hands about! And it's not like the patrons are complaining. Hells, some bloke even tried to ask Lia on a date after shift!"

Clover raised an eyebrow to Lia at that, who simply shrugged and sipped her own drink, "He was like, 60 years old at least. Or maybe 600. I think he was an Elf? Besides, if anything, its Rolan who needs someone to ask 'em out. Hopefully someone to help yank the stick from 'is arse." Clover snorted out a laugh in response.

"You really think that would help?" They pondered aloud, "Gods, I can't even see Rolan out on a date. Let alone finding someone attractive. That man only seems to care for Tomes and the Weave," Clover chuckled to themselves, "I mean hey, Mystra's single now, maybe I could set them up..."

Cal and Lia shot each other knowing glances, poorly hidden smiles curling at the corner of their lips. This was a look that Clover recognized immediately. That token Sibling Telepathy. Clover dropped their pint on the bar with a thud and planted their palms on the counter, shooting them their own knowing glance.

"Okay," they pointed between the two of them, "What's all this?"

The siblings eyes darted at Clover and then each other, trying to hide their bubbling laughter.

"Us?" Lia said sarcastically, hands raising up in feigned innocence, "Nothin'! Nothin', honest."

"Y-yeah," Cal said with a lilt in his voice, "You're totally right that Rolan doesn't even find anyone attractive, even. The mans practically a… a Eunuch!"

Lia groaned, "Cal, ew."

Clover rolled their eyes, "You two clearly know something. Some weird secret that I guess I'm not privy to," They folded their arms across their chest, "Very rude to withhold information from the person who's saved your lives on probably, Seven different occasions at this point?"

"Oh c'mon Clove, you can't hold that against us forever," Cal groaned.

"I actually think I can," Clover retorted, "Until you've saved my life seven times, at least." They picked their drink back up and finished the final gulp, tapping their mug against the counter with a wink in request for the barmaid to top them off once more before turning back to Cal.

"Alright Bud, I know you can't keep a secret. So, what the Hells are you two keeping from me?" Cal suddenly turned a bit pale, eyes wide.

"Clover, y-you know I don't do well under pressure…"

Clover leaned in closer to him, their barbarian eyes narrowing, a bite in their voice, "Exactly."

Lia, now tiptoeing between drunk and utterly sloshed, ran her finger around the rim of her cup, giggling to herself, "Clover… you're gonna make'm piss 'imself."

Cal groaned, "Listen, I'll tell you. But it's just. It's weird! It's weeeeeird, Clove."

The dwarf grinned to themselves in victory, "Alright, then. Spill." Lia stared at Cal with a sly grin.

"Yeah Cal. Tell 'em Rolan's little secret~" Cal groaned once more, shoving his face into his palms.

"Okaaay," Cal relented, "Gods above, I… Auuugh, so. How do I even…" he was struggling to find his words, "I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…"

Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?"

Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…"

Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins.

"What… what do you mean?"

Lia's smile turned even cheekier as she threw her head back - fake, exaggerated moans falling from her lips, "Ohhh~ Fuuuck, Clover- Yes Clover, please! Take me jus' like that," her speech slurred as she rocked her hips in frantic thrusts. Cal lowered his head onto the bar's tabletop as Clover's eyes went wide and their face went fully flush.

"Oh, my Gods…" they muttered to themselves, lifting their pint back to their lips. Lia's mocking cries turned to raucous laughter.

"I'm jus' saying. If anyone could get that man to relax…" she lifted her cup in Clover's direction before taking another hearty swig.

Suddenly, the gears in Clover's skull decided to start working. Frantically.

"Well, then," they announced, hopping off of their bar stool, "maybe I should go get the job done."

Cal and Lia once again exchanged wide eyed stares with each other, "What, like… like, right now?" Lia asked, as if shocked into a sudden sobriety. Clover chugged their nearly full pint in a handful of large, thirsty gulps. The final drops of liquid courage they needed before slamming the glass back onto the counter.

"Yeah, I guess like, Right Now. Y'all've had a hell of a week, right? If I can help…" Clover smiled to themselves, "It's kind of what I do," they gave Cal a cocky grin, "I will count this as saving your life, again. Mark me up to eight."

"Gods dammit," Cal let his head fall back onto the bar. Lia began laughing, clasping her gut as she bellowed.

"He should still be closing up at the Sundries!" Lia started hollering after Clover as they began to leave the Elfsong, "We'll stay here tonight, so take your time!"

Clover heard Cal stammer out, "Lia, that's disgusting!" Before walking into the cool night air.

Sorcerous Sundries was but a brief walk away. And Clover couldn't help all but skipping towards their unknowing wizard, his dirty secret at the forefront of their mind...

The open doors of Sorcerous Sundries allowed a pleasant breeze to flow through the lobby. Rolan took in a breath of fresh air, busying himself balancing the account records of sales for the evening. A small crew of mage hands floated around him, carrying stacks of sales records, tomes to be organized, sorting through everything from profits to taxes to local investments.

He'd typically give himself the time to pat his own back at his creative means of multitasking. If only his mind weren't so overcome with the newfound pressures being Ramazith's Master have brought him. Yes, the Sundries was a success trade business. Yes, the tower held treasures and secrets and power aplenty. But Gods, had Lorroakan ever opened a checkbook in his life? The debts this man owed, the back taxes and unkept promises Rolan was now forced to follow up on. Though grateful to not have a cane to his jaw, the stress of picking up his former Master's mess was taking its toll.

The faint footsteps of a guest entering the building could be heard across the tiled floors.

"Ah, terribly sorry but we are closed for the evening- Oh," he glanced up from his busy work to see the Hero of Baldur's Gate approaching the Sundries counter, "it's You," he mumbled, the voice of customer hospitality lost in his tone, "What do you want?" He questioned, adjusting the pair of reading glasses sat atop the point of his nose, glancing back down at his records.

Clover hesitated a moment, "Ouch, not the warm welcome I was anticipating. Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"I don't anticipate you're here to purchase something," Rolan remarked, focus fully back on his paperwork. The mage hands organizing the storefront flitted around Clover's head as they continued to approach the counter. Rolan just barely took his eyes from his work to peak up at the dwarf in front of him. He paused, "Did you need something?"

Clover slid their hands across the countertop, "Oh, what? I can't just… happen to be in the neighborhood, dropping by to say hello to an old friend?"

Rolan rolled his eyes back to his work, "We're friends now, is it? And here I thought you were nothing more than my siblings overpaid babysitter," Clover's head cocked to the side.

"You don't pay me."

Rolan flipped to a new page on his countertop.

"I know."

Clover rolled their eyes, strumming their fingers against the polished wood, pondering how to get to occupied wizard's attention. He was dressed so casual - his robes gone, wearing just his loose undershirt and fitted trousers. Emboldened by the alcohol still buzzing through their bloodstream, and their newfound knowledge of Rolan's secret desires, they decided to walk themselves behind the Sundries counter.

"This space is for employees only," Rolan commented, without looking up from his records. Clover paid him no mind, walking up to him and lifting themselves onto the counter directly in front of the Wizard, who responded by sighing. Exhausted and irritated, he hung his head, laying his palms down on the counter before him, "Would you kindly be an utter inconvenience somewhere else? I'm trying to work here," he gestured to his documents, but couldn't seem to look the barbarian in the eyes.

"Oh, Rolan, I'm hurt," Clover responded, "Is that really what you think of me? I'm just an, 'utter inconvenience'?"

"Right now? Yes!" Frustrated, he finally found himself looking at Clover's face. But rather than maintaining his building rage, his breath caught in his throat.

They were much closer to him than he initially realized. He could see their mismatched eyes so clearly. Clear enough to see - no, smell - the magic enchanted in the blue glass eye to his left. He could also smell the heavy alcohol on their breath. Though their dwarven fortitude kept them composed, the sour wheat smell of beer was unmistakable. He found it mixed beautifully with their natural sent of musk, the sugar plum soaps he knew they preferred, and that faintest whiff of copper, from all the blood that often soaks their body after battle. Caught in the sheer aura of them, he nearly didn't register as Clover's hands gently gripped at his forearms resting at their sides.

"I'm sorry," they lied, "I must be a real bother right now. I'm sure you're thinking of a million different ways to get me out of your hair," they made a point of dragging their right hand up his neck and tangling their fingers into the hair on his nape. Without even thinking, Rolan's hands moved from the countertop to hesitantly reach for their thighs. Fingers hovering, as if touching them in earnest would cause them to vanish.

"Don't you just wish there were some way you could… shut me up?" Clover's heavy gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. Rolan swallowed a lump building in his throat, and (unsuccessfully) tried to will away the growing pressure in his pants.

"C-Clover, what are you-"

"Tell me something Rolan," they interrupted, using their free hand to remove the glasses from his face. Their noses brushed against each other as warm breath mixed in the air between them.

"Do you ever think of me when you cum?"

Rolan's entire body shuddered, from head to toe to the tip of his tail. His fingers clenched around their thighs as he pulled their bodies flush.

"I…" He choked, holding his breath for a second that felt like an eternity, before letting himself go.

"Yes," was all he managed to say in response. Spoken in a heavy breath - a whisper, a moan, a prayer. They were already so close, neither one knew who moved first. But as soon as the word left his throat, their lips crashed together in a frenzy.

There was no patience, it was not gentle. Clover fueled by liquid courage and Rolan fueled by sheer desire. Tongues tangled as shared saliva slowly dripped from the corners of their mouths. They kissed each other as much as they breathed each other in, only pulling apart once Rolan bit Clover's bottom lip. Tugging at it gently, just barely breaking skin with his sharp incisors. Chests heaving as they both took a moment to collect themselves. Rolan lifted a hand in the air, eyes lidded and unfocused. With a flick of his wrist, Clover could hear the doors to the Sundries closing and locking shut, as the lights inside dimmed to the gentle flicker of that magical blue/green glow of enchanted flames.

"Well, someone sure knows how to set the mood," Clover quipped, draping their arms around Rolan's neck and leaning back in for a kiss. Which he returned, deeply, but briefly, before breaking away from them again. Clover whimpered in disappointment, trying to pull him back towards them. But Rolan's hands reached up to their arms around him, stilling their movements for a moment.

"Clover…" he whispered, his voice deep and aching, "Why are you here?"

He looked confused, almost scared, his burning yellow eyes glowing in the dim lighting, unwilling to look at them. It hurt Clover enough to not laugh in response, but they never thought Rolan capable of being so dense.

"Is it… is it not obvious?" Their fingers played with his hair. Rolan scoffed, smiling weakly.

"It just feels, surreal. It feels like I'm dreaming…" Clover lowered their head to catch his gaze.

"Well, you're not," they said softly, "but let's pretend that you are. Let's pretend this is a dream," they nudged against his nose with their own, trying to catch his lips, "You're dreaming. And I'm here," they whispered, "What do you want to do with me?"

Something stirred in Rolan's chest. Without looking at them, he captured their lips again, sliding his fingers beneath the hem of their shirt. He began to lift the cloth upwards, but stilled himself, pulling his lips away just for a moment. Clover smiled, whispering approval to continue before catching his lips again. Rolan pulled their shirt up, the hem resting on his wrists as his thumbs traced the shape of their skin, cupping their breasts as he passed over them.

Clover stilled their kiss briefly to let out a moan, and Rolan took the opportunity to remove their shirt completely before returning his kisses to their lips, down their chin, down their neck. Clover's arms wrapped tightly around him, hands holding the back of his head as his tongue traced a wet line from their neck downwards. He explored their skin, finding the shallow dips between their collar bone, kissing down lower until his tongue and hands met their puckering nipples.

"Fuck, Rolan..." Clover moaned, gripping his head by his hair and pushing his face into their chest. Rolan responded in kind with a deep, purring moan. His lips fully encompassing their nipple while his tongue traced around it. Quick, frantic flicks of his tongue followed by desperate sucking left Clover's chest bruised and swollen. When Rolan lifted his head up for a breath, he kissed Clover once more, then returned his focus to their other breast, making sure he provided both with equal pleasure.

The sounds leaving Clover's mouth were bordering on sinful. They had their legs wrapped around Rolan's body, kicking their shoes off their feet and rocking themselves into him. They could feel their own arousal pooling between their legs. Their hips bucked aggressively as Rolan took the stiff bud on their chest between his teeth, and pulled. Clover threw their head back and whined in pleasure.

Rolan smiled, his hands leaving the curve under their breasts and traveling down the soft skin of their torso. He hooked his fingers under the fold of their waistband, tracing his sharp nails across their skin towards the center of their pants. He began to deftly untie the laces of their trousers. Clover unhooked their legs from behind his back so he could pull the rest of their clothes from their body.

Rolan ran his hands along Clover's thighs as he removed one pant leg after the other. Fully exposed, Rolan took a step back to appreciate the creature in front of him.

Clover's chest was heaving, their pale neck and chest marked red from all the kisses and bites Rolan left on their skin. Their legs were spread wide open for him, the folds of their cunt dripping and twitching in anticipation. They had one hand propping themselves up on the countertop, but the other was dancing across their skin, tracing the ghost of Rolan's own fingers in his absence. They shivered, the chill of their bare skin mixed with anticipation.

"I know you're enjoying yourself," Clover mumbled, breath heavy with lust, "but if you don't come back over here and touch me, I'll-"

Rolan nearly tripped over himself returning to their embrace. He grabbed behind their ear with one hand, pulling their hips into him with the other, kissing them so deeply Clover could feel him shaking against them, before pulling away from them abruptly.

"What are you limits?" He asked in haste. Clover's response was hazy and confused.

"My… what?"

"How far are you willing to go with me? Do we need a… a… a signal? A safeword? To tell me to stop, or…" His hand tightened against their waist.

Clover smiled. Even in a situation like this - sat here completely naked, their body visibly yearning for him - he was so nervous. So mindful. They reached their hands under his chin and kissed him softly.

"We can do whatever you want," they kissed him again, a gentle laugh escaping their lips before saying, "though I wouldn't mind being thoroughly ravaged by you."

Rolan let out a sharp, sudden laugh. Or perhaps a grunt, even. Something almost animal.

"Then I hope you'll allow me to indulge myself," he responded, before quickly dropping to his knees. Hooking his arms behind Clover's thighs, he pulled them to the very edge of the counter, letting their legs drape over his shoulders. A wild look flashed across his eyes before he began planting kisses along Clover's inner thighs. Kisses, and bites, not shying away from biting hard enough to draw blood between their legs. Clover gave a sharp inhale, causing Rolan to glance up at them, an unspoken question.

Clover ran their fingers through his hair, clenching their legs a touch tighter against his back, nodding for him to continue. He purred again, a sound Clover's core was beginning to respond to in kind, before biting their soft inner thigh once more, creeping closer to their center. They smiled and shuddered, letting their head lull back, "Do all tieflings purr like that?"

Rolan licked the blood from their thigh, kissing their skin ever inwards, "Only when we're excited," he responded, before sliding his thumbs up between the folds of their cunt, spreading them open for him. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of their desire, and ran his tongue up their dripping arousal. He sucked their clit into a kiss, rolling the sensitive nub against his tongue.

Clover's hand immediately went from a fistful of Rolan's hair straight to his horn, pulling him in closer, "My Gods, Rolan - Fuck!" They nearly screamed as his mouth explored them. Thighs gripped tightly against his head, their hips rocking with a sudden urgency. Rolan could hardly control himself as he moaned, and gasped, and devoured their cunt. The nectar dripping from their swollen lips worth more to him in this moment than air to breathe.

He slid his tongue inside of them, holding the lips of their pussy open between two fingers with his left hand, and carefully massaging their clit with his thumb. Rolan could feel the inner walls of Clover's sex trying desperately to clench around him as he ate them out, and lulled his eyes up to look into theirs.

Clover was putty under his touch. Their chest was heaving, sweat building on their brow. Their cheeks were flush, their eyes were watering. Seeing the way their body responded to him made Rolan's dick twitch painfully beneath the restraints of his pants.

He slid a hand around Clover's thigh. A feeble attempt to loosen the barbarian's grip, which they thankfully understood. Rolan leaned back a moment for a breath of air before standing tall and crashing their lips together, allowing Clover to taste their own sweet musk of arousal. They had draped their arms around Rolan's neck, while the wizard frantically attempted to remove his own garments. Clover caught on to his movements and began assisting in removing his shirt as he wrestled with his own trousers. Both parties having a difficult time as they refused to let go of each other's lips in the process.

"I hope - it's not - to forward," he said between kisses, "But I - I," he grabbed Clover's face and held them in a deep, steady kiss, before pulling them away, "I think if I - If I don't have sex with you this instant, I may - I may go mad."

He took Clover's hand and brought it down to his throbbing member, though he let them take their own time in touching him.

They looked into him, a coy smile and devilish gaze behind their eyes. They gingerly took the tiefling's erection in their hand, and Rolan's knees all but buckled in response. He had to grip onto the countertop to stop himself from collapsing. Clover laughed quietly under their breath, stroking his cock with increasing fervor.

Rolan kissed them again, quickly tracing his mouth from their lips to the crook of their neck. Clover wrapped their legs around the small of his back, guiding the tip of his dick towards their desperate heat. They rocked themselves against him, sliding the length of his shaft between their slick folds. They could feel his entire body tremble against them, hearing the sweetest whimpers escape him as his face remained buried in their shoulder.

Barely audible, he tilted his head toward their ear and weakly begged them, "Clover… please…"

They traced the end of his cock back to their pulsing entrance and rolled their hips against him, allowing the tip to gain entry. They could feel Rolan's breath catch. His hands found their way to Clover's hips once more, holding them steady at the edge of the counter as he slid his entire length inside them with ease. The complex curves and ridges of his infernal features could be felt within Clover's walls.

"Rolan…" His name fell from their lips in a desperate moan as the tip of his cock reached the deepest parts of them.

Rolan stilled once fully sheathed, Clover's cunt pulsing and throbbing against him in pure anticipation. They rolled their hips ever so slightly. Rolan cursed in response, his voice shaky and low.

He began to drag himself out of their pussy once more, almost reluctant to leave them, until just his tip was teasing the entrance of their hole.

Rolan slammed his cock into them, hands fixed upon their waist so firmly his nails were threatening to break skin. He gave Clover a few long, powerful thrusts like this. Dragging himself out nearly in full before burying himself within them.

Soon enough the long, drawn out strokes were replaced with closer, more frantic thrusts. Rolan's hips barely leaving the embrace of Clover's own as he humped them like an animal in heat.

Rolan lifted himself from the shallow curve where Clover's neck met their shoulder. He pressed his forehead to theirs, grunting hard as he fucked them. Clover's hand gripped the back of his neck as they held his wanton gaze.

"How long have you wanted this?" They asked, panting, their hold on his neck tightening, "How long have you wanted to fuck me like this?"

Rolan's pace picked up, keening under his partner's commanding presence.

"Since - Since Last Light," he stuttered between his heaving breaths and desperate thrusts, "S-Since you saved - saved them. Since you s-saved us. Since you - Ah - since you freed me of - of my tormentor - and made me Master of this Tower," his movements grew sporadic and urgent as he spoke.

Clover laughed as they moaned, "Oh fuck, Rolan, that's right. You're the Master of this Tower now," They gripped him by his hair and gently yanked his head back. The whimper that escaped Rolan's lips at their touch was pitiful. Clover began running kisses up and down his neck, before tracing their tongue below his ear.

"Fuck me, Master Rolan," the lust dripping from their voice was intoxicating. Rolan's hectic and rhythmless thrusting sped up, his moans entirely debauched. Clover could feel their cunt clenching around him as they inched towards their own release.

"Yes, Clover - Fuck!" Rolan moaned and whined as he felt them on the edge, "Take your Master's cock. Take me just - just like that," Clover's grip on his hair tightened as their mouth opened against his neck.

"Rolan!" They nearly wept as they came over his thrusting cock, juices spilling out of them with every shallow plunge.

"Gods, Clover, I'm - I," he could barely finish his attempted warning before Clover caught him completely by surprise, pushing him out of them and dropping onto their knees. They gripped his cock as the shaft pulsed beneath their touch, laying the head of him against their tongue. They stroked him frantically, his member still sticky and wet with their juices.

"Fuuuuck!" Rolan's hands fell to the counter as a powerful orgasm ran through him. His legs shook as thick lengths of cum released into Clover's mouth. Strings of his spend so long they reached across their cheeks and nose. Clover smiled as they rubbed him through his release, sucking on his head to milk every last drop of him.

Once the last of the aftershocks finished running through him, Rolan dropped to the floor to join his equally exhausted partner. Their backs resting against the counter shelves. Slick with sweat, heaving chests, swollen lips, both covered in marks from each others touch.

Clover leaned their head against the wizards shoulder. Rolan placed his head atop theirs, turning and planting a kiss in their hair. Clover ran their fingers on the floor absentmindedly. Rolan took notice, and slid his own hand across the floor a touch, gently nudging his sharp claws against the dwarf's rugged, calloused hands. They responded immediately, interlacing their fingers with his own.

They turned to look up at the man who had just well and truly fucked them near senselessness. They had never seen him so disheveled. His hair was loose and curling with is sweat. He was still panting, this likely being some of the hardest physical work a magic user like him has had to do in quite some time. Still naked, Clover took the time to examine the man's infernal features. The spikes and grooves on his chest and shoulders that so starkly contrasted their own soft and squishy stomach and thighs.

They took their free hand and ran it up his chest, tracing the bumps under his skin. Rolan jumped at the unexpected touch and looked down at his partner, equally debauched. He laughed as he attempted to wipe some of his now drying spend from their face, instead opting for a quick prestidigitation. Clover smiled.

"How are you feeling?" They asked. They weren't really sure what to say, now that the deed had been done. But they were here to help him relax, after all. They should at least find out if it worked.

"How am I feeling?" Rolan responded, almost in disbelief, "That's a rather loaded question, I mean... I still feel like I must be dreaming -"

"But you're not," Clover interrupted, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

"I… yes. Okay, yes, but I'm not," he sighed, resigning to the truth of the situation, "Then I feel like… I feel like I just, um…" He cleared his throat, "I feel as though I just bed the most beautiful creature in all the realms. Gods, in my place of business, no less. I hate to see the mess we've made in proper lighting," He trailed off into his thoughts, almost embarrassed by circumstances.

Clover climbed onto his lap, straddling him in an attempt to get his full focus, "Thank you ever so much for the very literal explanation of our current situation," they expressed with a playful mocking tone, their hands running up and down his arms, "But I do in fact mean how are you feeling, emotionally. Do you feel okay?"

Rolan sat still for a moment. As if he truly needed to consider whether or not he felt okay after all of this. Clover's heart was pounding, suddenly worried if this was a bad idea. That is until Rolan reached up for their face, pulling them in for a tender kiss. When he let them pull away, he held both their hands in his own.

"Clover, I feel incredible. And I feel… confused? But the incredible aspects outweigh the confusion. And perhaps we can discuss the confusion some other time, because right now, I… I'd really like to bask in the incredible."

Clover smiled, and nodded, leaning into Rolan's chest. He wrapped his arms around them, breathing deeply of their scent, committing it to memory. As exhaustion fully took its hold on them, they melted into each other's embrace.

The morning light crept through the stained glass dome of Sorcerous Sundries in a dance of rainbow prisms. The twinkling causing Rolan's dreary eyes to squint tight before slowly opening.

He was sat on the floor behind the Sundries front counter, still undressed, with an equally bare dwarf sleeping soundly against his chest. The memories of the night before washed over him. Clover's body flush against him, calling out his name as they came with him inside them. It all sent a renewed wave of arousal crashing through his body.

That is, until he heard a shout from the busy streets outside, and the reality of his current predicament crashed over him even harder.

"Oh Gods," he glanced around himself. Papers strewn across the floor. Various bobbles lay in disarray, likely dropped by the mage hand assistants last night once he lost concentration on the spell. Drops of his own errant spend now dry on the shelves. Stains of sweat and what other fluids he could only guess marking the floor beneath them. He palmed his face, rubbing his temple between his fingers before rousing his partner from his arms.

"Clover, get up," he started to lift himself from the floor as his companion groaned, "Get up, damn you! We fell asleep," he was whispering, as if someone outside might overhear them. Clover sat themselves upright, eyes still closed.

"Yeah… We fell asleep. People tend to do that when they're tired…" Clover mumbled.

"We fell asleep in the Sundries you idiot!" Rolan was trying to dress himself while cleaning up after last night's… experience, "We have to leave - No, you have to leave. I have to finish cleaning up before I open," his movements were frantic. Clover watched him dart around, still sat on the floor. He conjured a quick bust of himself - a modified version of mirror image, perhaps? - swearing as he attempted to fix his hair. Clover yawned, lazily picking up their own clothes and dressing themselves at a snails pace.

Still sat on the floor, Rolan found himself tripping over them as he aimlessly paced around the counters. Stacks of paperwork flew from his arms as he fell. Clover tried to reach out and break his fall, though it did little help.

"Bugger it all!" Rolan slammed a fist against the tiled floor, propping himself to his knees, "Could you PLEASE get up and either help me, or leave!" He shouted in Clover's direction.

They both froze, Rolan held his breath.

"Y'know…" Clover slowly stood up and walked over to the wizard kneeling on the floor. At this height, they were at eye level with each other, "Calling someone an idiot and demanding they leave the morning after you've fucked them silly? Not exactly the best impression one wants to make," they tried to joke, lifting a hand to his cheek. Rolan didn't comment, his gaze locked onto the floor.

Clover sighed, pulling his head to their chest as they held him. Their strong arms felt both soft and secure, the rhythm of their heartbeat providing a sense of grounding Rolan didn't even realize he so desperately needed. As Clover spoke, their voice reverberated against his cheek.

"I'm no mage, Rolan," they started, one hand gently stroking his head as they spoke, "I can't detect your thoughts, or calm your emotions with a spell. I can't compel you into a zone of truth and force you to be honest with me. But I can tell when someone is overworked, and overwhelmed," they squeezed his head tighter for a moment before releasing him and holding his face in their hands. He looked up at them, his eyes glossy with tears he refused to shed.

"You need a break, you stubborn jackass," Clover said with a smile, "There's nothing wrong with that. I think the city will survive if the Sundries is closed for a day or two. And if you're truly that worried I'm sure I could convince Gale to come visit and-"

"Absolutely not," Rolan interjected sternly, clearing his throat, "Forgive me, but that man has no idea how to speak to patrons without coming across as a pretentious, pompous, know-it-all."

"Oh, but you do?" Clover retorted with a grin. Rolan seemed shocked at first, then smiled back. Chuckling to himself, he reached up to hold Clover's hand, pulling it from his cheek and planting a deep kiss against their palm. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, still holding Clover's hand.

"I'll set up the portal upstairs to take you to the washroom of the tower. Let me finish with what I had started last night, then I'll come join you," Clover cocked an eyebrow.

"You'll come join me, eh? In the glorious, magical washroom of Ramazith's Tower?" They tried to tease him, but he simply turned to them with devious look in his eyes.

"Yes, I'll be joining you. After I finish cleaning up the mess you made," he leaned down to their ear, "Be grateful I'm not forcing you to help," he said sweetly, kissing their cheek. He raised his hand and flicked his wrist, the familiar sounds of a transportation portal wooshing to life on the floor above them, "Now, off with you. I don't need any more distractions, especially if you'd like me to get this finished quickly."

Clover smirked as they began to walk off, "Whatever you say, oh great Master Rolan," a shiver shot up his spine as they dragged out his title across their tongue. He tried to compose himself, but his tail flicked with excitement as the dwarf ascended the staircase.

"I'll be waiting."

#rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #I am holding a delicious beautifully frosted cake with 12 bags under my eyes bloodshot & weary please accept this humble gift I made

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ophelian-darling · 2 years

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omg hi, you have such a beautiful blog, i like the aesthetic sm and your writings are gold ! i hope you are having a really nice day. <3

okay so, of course only if you want to do it, what about fugo with the prompts 20, 22 and 60?? i love him sm sorry hHAJDJF.

again have a nice day, and thank you for reading this !! ♡

"I'm nothing without you"

"You're acting ungrateful and keep ruining everything I do for you..."

"Don't ignore me, you know that I don't like this"

TW: Toxic relationship, emotional manipulation, Obsession, light swearing.

enjoy ♡

"I really don't know, mother…he's feeling even worse now and I can't let myself do this to him"

"You've been with Pannacotta for years honey… years in which you stood by his side, endured his tantrums and showed him nothing but love and support so he could hurt you even more! you deserve so much better than to remain stuck with someone like him"

You stared at the thrown suitcase across your bedroom floor. you were about to defend your boyfriend and repeat those old promises of faithfulness and affection you swore to him, but her words took a shorter time to be processed as true when you thought about it.

Maybe your affair with Pannacotta wasn't meant to be? you thought that the connection between you was too strong to be broken, only to be proven wrong when you felt your love for him drain like water from the pieces of a shattered vase.

"Do you… think it's right? I don't wanna be the villain here and I-"

"Why are you so hesitant?" she scolded through the line "This is the hundredth time I tell you that it's totally okay… don't feel bad for this happening darling, he'll understand"

You hoped so.

"You're caring too much for his feelings that you forgot about your own, you aren't happy anymore with him so why put the blame on yourself?"

"Stand your ground Sweetheart, don't let him have his way again"

You threw another glance at the suitcase. you've had enough. Pannacotta's ways -whether they are through words or actions- were raising your hackles. It was crystal clear that he had issues and you excused him for them (Starting from the ruthless circumstances he was put through as a child, to when his outbursts made him this way with you) in addition to him promising you to be better for the sake of your relationship.

Well, six years with him wasn't enough for him to change- in fact, he'll never do.

"Are you going to abandon me?" the unmistakable voice of him, doubtful and faintly wry.

You didn't reply. The lack of response urged him to continue, taking slow steps towards your sitting form on the bed "Have you had enough of me? Am I a nuisance to you?"

You are. That's the first answer crossing your mind. That's what you're supposed to say now. He is indeed a nuisance and he had to know it, that if your tender side didn't intervene and force you to choose a more gentle excuse. Fuck.

"Don't ignore me, you know that I don't like this" He pleaded, despair masked by an angry octave of voice. During these years with Pannacotta, you've learned and memorized his tones: the anger of frustration wasn't the same as the anger of melancholy. You only had either to endure his mood, or comfort him depending on the situation and protest with no words.

"I think we're too different to remain together, Panna." you said, clearing every word, not like He needed a clarification of how much you need to get away from him, forever.

His tight expression fell a little, but you carried on nonetheless "I'm afraid that I don't feel for you as much as I used to feel for you before, Pannacotta. it's no use continuing this"

"Was it your mother who told you to do this?" The look on his eyes nearly cracked your resolve.

"It's not like that-"

"You've been waiting for a chance to leave me all alone! I've built so much into being with you only to know that you were ready to forsake me when I'm in such a need for you!" He was practically screaming, raising his hands and waving them around. you're too familiar with this scene.

The atmosphere felt heavy suddenly; your heart clenched at the strange aura around him. not too wrong to assume that something is off and this is not like the previous times you tried to break free from him.

"Panna please calm down! I just want to-" you tried to pacify him, getting closer to his rigid body with caution before being interrupted harshly.

"You just want what?! to simply throw away all of my love behind you as if it was never a thing in your mind?! I've suffered for you while You're acting ungrateful and keep ruining everything I do for you…"

Was it so? your heart sank at his words. all of the letters were lost on your tongue, you merely couldn't respond or know how to ease him.

"Can't you see you're hurting me? have I done something so sinful that you were so quick to leave?" Panna seemed to relax a little, His shoulders loosening up hopelessly.

From red to blue in minutes; your 'boyfriend' (does this term still apply to him? it seems that a change of heart is stirring inside again) had the same pattern of behavior for the very obvious reasons, in addition of holding tight to you and not showing any understanding of what you may feel.

"Panna…" gently as a breeze was his name slipping off your lips, hands over his, trying to appease him unconsciously.

He took it too, unconsciously basking in the contentful gesture. you'd never imagined that you would hear the soft confession out of his mouth.

"You mean everything to me… I have no one else to be with after I lost everything…"

Memory of his sobs on your lap flashed in a second. the day he made his worst mistake- and it'll a sharp wound in his heart to realize he abandoned his dearest friends, a fate he didn't want to have himself.

"I'm nothing without you… and I've never been a thing until I met you…"

Silence.

That was enough to convey his message to you; you wouldn't dare to leave your dear Pannacotta a broken mess all to himself to fix, that if he was even able to.

What was even our argument about? thinking now, until it went to the back of your consciousness just like your mother's words.

#yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo #jjba x reader #jjba x y/n #jjba x you #sfw #yandere fugo #yandere fugo x reader #fugo x reader #fugo x y/n #gabioshi #part five #jjba vento auero #me after this : 💖↗️💖↗️💖↗️

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scotianostra · 7 months

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On November 8th 1752, Seumas a' Ghlinne / James of the Glen was hung at Cnap Chaolis Mhic Pharaig, near Ballachulish.

If you’ve read the books or watched the film(s), Kidnapped, you will roughly know the story of the Appin murder, the shooting in the back of government agent Colin Campbell of Glenure – the ‘Red Fox’ in Kidnapped. He was assassinated in a ruthless ambush by an unknown hand in the Wood of Lettermore near Ballachulish by the side of Loch Linnhe in Argyll. Two days later James Stewart from Glenduror known in gaelic as Seumas a Ghlinne was taken in custody as an accessory to murder. The murder was assumed to have been committed by his foster son Allan Breac Stewart.

It has been claimed that on the day he was shot Campbell was about to indulge in a spot of “ethnic cleansing” by evicting Stewart families from their houses on the Ardsheal estate and replacing them with Campbells. That claim has never been proved but post-Culloden, anti-Campbell sentiment was rife in the west Highlands. The Campbells, living in the heart of clan country, were however loyal to the Hanoverian monarchy and deeply unpopular among those who had fought with Charles Edward Stewart, the Bonnie Prince himself. They had also been seen to “do the bidding of their English masters” at the Massacre of Glencoe 60 years earlier.

James Stewart was taken for trial to the Campbell stronghold of Inveraray Castle. The trial was a travesty. Eleven of the 15 jurors were Campbells and the presiding judge was the Duke of Argyll, the clan chief. Not surprisingly Stewart was sentenced to die.

It is said that on the day of the hanging, the real man who fired the shot had to be held down at a house in Ballachulish to prevent him giving himself up.

In 2001, nearly 250 years after the incident, an 89-year-old descendant of the Stewarts of Appin, Anda Penman, claimed it was time to break the family silence. She said the murder was planned by four young Stewart lairds and that the gun was fired by the best shot among the four, Donald Stewart of Ballachulish, who had been elected assassin. Penman died soon afterwards and no member of the Stewart family has substantiated herstory.

For eighteen months the body of James of the Glen was left to hang on the gibbet at an elevated and highly visible spot on the south end of the Ballachulish Ferry. Battered by the winds and rain of the west Highlands, Stewart’s’ body rapidly disintegrated.

When only his skeleton remained it was held together by chains and wires. Guarded night and day, the grisly spectacle served as a stark warning to the restless Highland clans that this was the fate awaiting anyone who harboured murderous thoughts.

Back in 1754 the sight of the remains of James Stewart was too much for a local half-wit known as “Daft Macphee”. It is said he uprooted the gallows and threw it into Loch Linnhe and that it then floated into Loch Etive before coming to rest further south near Bonawe. The wooden gibbet was used as a bridge across a stream and the bones of James of the Glen were carefully gathered and buried - by none other than young Donald Stewart of Ballachulish.

The inscription on the Stewart Monument which is a granite block crowned by a quartzite boulder reads:

James Stewart

James of the Glens

Executed here November 1752

For a crime of which he was not guilty

#Scotland #scottish #history #Jacobites #injustice #Miscarriage of justice

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thenightling · 1 year

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Seeing some blatant sexism in comparing Wednesday Addams to Mulan 2020

Dislike Wednesday all you want but the comparison to the live action Mulan from 2020 IS crossing a line. And the ONLY reason for this bullshit comparison is ONE ...f--kng ONE fight scene in a coffee shop. Wednesday is nothing like that crappy version of Mulan that could never lose, never be hurt, and had to hide how good she was at everything. Wednesday LOST her duel in the first episode with Bianca. Wednesday almost got crushed by a gargoyle statue. Wednesday nearly died in the season finale and a ghost had to save her. This weird, macho insecurity that you feel the need to criticize Wednesday as "Too powerful" over ONE fight scene with New England backwater yokel teenage boys is baffling. Why did you never whine that it was unrealistic when Gomez casually bested his accountant for the fun of it in the first movie?Or how about when Pubert caught a guillotine with his fingertips in Addams Family values? Or when Pubert survived being tossed up to an airplane, and later sawed through a wall and re-routed the current of an electric chair rig with his bear hands at just a few months old? Or how about When Wednesday and a small army of nerdy and outcast disabled children took down an entire summer camp and its councilors in Addams Family Values? In the 60s show Ophelia (Morticia's sister) would Kung-fu flip Gomez for the fun of it.

Uncle Fester can survive explosions and electrocutions...But you insecure, emasculated coward, has to whine about Wednesday Addams winning a fight against some schoolyard bullies?!If you're that insecure about a fifteen-year-old girl beating up teenage boys but never raised an eyebrow at male Addams doing similar (including Gomez in the first Addams Family movie) YOU don't DESERVE to be around women, period! I've had it! I will not tolerate this level of blatant masculine insecurity that your ego could be bruised by Wednesday Addams.You're welcome to dislike the character but the comparison to the 2020 Mulan for ONE fight scene is inexcusable! Comparing her to the 2020 Mulan isn't an opinion. It's a blatant, sexist, dog whistle. It's rather degrading the way that version of Mulan acts as if the only reason she was "different from other girls" is because she has "More chi" instead of her being clever and brave but physically ordinary. And treating Chi like a rare super power she had since childhood. To compare Wednesday Addams to that is unacceptable. Did you compare Pippi Longstocking to Mulan 2020 when she threw grown men up into a tree? Or are you so illiterate and afraid of little girls that you never read Pippi Longstocking or watched the film?

#Wednesday Addams #Wednesday #Netflix #Addams Family #The Addams Family

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ailtrahq · 8 months

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In a meticulous and comprehensive analysis shared on X, prominent analyst Will Clemente delved deeply into Bitcoin’s current stance against the prevailing macroeconomic landscape, connecting broad fiscal trends with the future trajectory of the digital asset. Bitcoin’s Genesis And Modern Economic Constructs Clemente initiates his exposition with a reference to Bitcoin’s present situation, where despite facing a decline of nearly 70% from its 2021 highs, its potential remains undiminished. He reminded readers of Bitcoin’s inception, born out of the tumultuous aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis. Satoshi Nakamoto, Bitcoin’s elusive creator, envisioned it as an antidote to the “moral hazard and incentives set in place” that could disrupt the very “fabric of financial perception.” Supporting his argument, Clemente threw a spotlight on the alarming debt growth: over the last 15 years, the “federal debt as a percentage of GDP (The US economy’s output) has ascended from 60% to a staggering 120% today.” This surge in debt stands in sharp contrast to the actual growth of the US economy. He elaborated, “Even though the economy’s growth exceeded expectations, registering 2.4% (annualized) in the recent second quarter, public debt overshadowed it by swelling 2.7%, which annualizes to an unsettling 10.8%.” This disparity, Clemente warns, places the U.S. in a challenging position. Bridging this gap mandates either a herculean economic growth driven by groundbreaking innovations or a stringent curb on debt, which seems politically implausible given the “incentives to be liked and re-elected.” The Looming Debt Issue Broadening his analysis, Clemente addresses the demographic shifts, particularly the financial implications of the aging baby boomer generation. The burden of their social security programs falls on a younger, financially strained working class, intensifying the fiscal strain. So, given this increasing debt, how does the U.S. intend to address it? Clemente suggests that the solution might lie in monetary debasement, an economic maneuver where the value of currency is deliberately reduced. He elucidated this concept: “By inflating the monetary base (by, for instance, printing more money), debt can be paid back in nominal terms, but its real value (adjusted for inflation or debasement) gets effectively reduced.” Navigating Assets in a Debasing Economy Turning his lens to assets in such an environment, Clemente posed the vital question: Which assets are poised to thrive in a constantly debasing economy? He scrutinized a variety of options from stocks, which have shown consistent growth, to real estate, commodities, and venture capital. Equities have been dependable for many, but Clemente pointedly remarks that when adjusted for the M2 money supply growth, the returns of indices like the S&P 500 are not as remarkable. “Interestingly, relative to M2 money supply, the S&P 500 has barely made new highs. This hints at stocks being susceptible to the very debasement that affects fiat currencies”, Clemente noted. Real estate, while a tangible hedge against inflation, suffers from illiquidity. On the other hand, venture and angel investing, though potentially lucrative, have barriers that might keep average citizens at bay. Commodities like gold have been age-old shields during financial unrest. However, in Clemente’s view, Bitcoin emerges as a formidable contender in this space. Post its next halving, Bitcoin’s stock-to-flow ratio—a measure of scarcity—will outstrip both gold and silver. Beyond metrics, Bitcoin’s inherent properties, such as portability and verifiability, cement its position as a unique financial instrument. While recent monetary policies like rate hikes have impacted Bitcoin’s short-term value, Clemente stresses that the long-term scenario shaped by unchecked fiscal policies remains. In this landscape, Bitcoin, with its algorithmically limited supply, could offer a resilient hedge against central bank-induced debasement.

Global Sentiments & Bitcoin’s Ascendance Broadening his vista, Clemente references a United Nations report to elucidate the global sentiment. A noticeable rise in negative news, coupled with declining global living standards, sets the stage. This pessimism, combined with a heightened political polarization globally, paints a grim picture. Delving into the root causes, Clemente identifies monetary debasement as a probable driving factor. He explained, “The continuous expansion of the money supply enriches asset holders, yet makes asset acquisition increasingly insurmountable for those without them.” This widening chasm, he proposes, is propelling a societal shift towards disillusionment with the traditional system. Concluding his exhaustive analysis, Clemente accentuates that these intertwined economic, sociopolitical, and demographic factors collectively create a fertile ground for the ascendancy of Bitcoin. Its digital nature, combined with the inherent scarcity and decentralized ethos, positions it as a viable alternative in an increasingly unstable financial landscape. In his own words, when forecasting the cryptocurrency’s potential over an extended period, Clemente succinctly stated, “All to say, over a decade plus time horizon, orange coin good.” At press time, BTC traded at $27,112. History repeating itself for BTC price?, 1-day chart | Source: BTCUSD on TradingView.com Source

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mapxilla · 1 year

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Billy the Squid Ship [60 x 120]

Created using Dungeondraft with assets from CrossheadStudios, used with permission.

https://www.patreon.com/posts/billy-squid-ship-75680419

In the midst of a terrible war between sea elves and humans, the human forces began to overtake their foes and push them back. Despite the protection of the vast sea around them, the elves and their allies found themselves hard pressed to make a move without being overtaken by enemy mages. In a bid to break the growing blockade and regain control of the seas that they called home, the elves and their allies threw all their efforts behind a secret weapon: a massive metal ship shaped like a giant squid. The ship was finished in just a few short years amidst mounting pressure and dwindling supplies. Once it was finally completed, the last step was to animate the ship using a powerful ritual performed by dozens of their best mages. The ritual took nearly a whole day to complete, yet right before it was done, something happened.

A young enterprising thief by the name of Billy caught wind of the project through his contacts. Unaffiliated with either group, he found his way to the undersea facility and managed to sneak in unnoticed. Using his impressive skills at stealth, he slipped past the guards and chanting mages as he snuck onto the ship. As he entered, he was surprised by the fresh air within and the large tree just ahead of him. Not wasting any time, he made his way to the control seat. Slowly running his hands over the dull green orbs on either arm of the chair, he sat down and grabbed them, trying to make the ship move somehow.

Outside, at the same time, the mages brought the ritual to a close. Immense magical energy instantly coursed throughout the entire ship, filling the inside with light as the ship shuddered and slowly began to move. Before he knew what was happening, the energy raced into the seat, up through the control orbs and into his body. Billy attempted to pull back but it was too late. The magical energy washed through him, overtaking him as he instantly disappeared and became one with the ship. The soldiers and mages outside began to approach as they celebrated their incredible accomplishment, only to be surprised and terrified as the ship suddenly shuddered to life, flailing in all directions.

Confused and scared, not sure what was even happening, Billy lashed out. The massive ship quickly demolished much of the dock, killing anyone that was unfortunate enough to be close by. As quickly as he demolished the place, he had disappeared into the deep dark sea, never to be heard from again. The sea elves never recovered from that loss and were ultimately driven back by the human forces above.

Ever since, Billy has wandered the open sea. The only reason anyone even knows about his existence is that old habits die hard. Eventually, he took to attacking ships and dragging their treasures into the icy black depths where he admired the glittering spoils. Despite his newfound ability to crush anything in his path, Billy wants nothing more than to return to his original body and get back to his old life. Should any adventurers somehow find a way to communicate with him, he quickly offers them a kings ransom of treasure, as well as the ship itself should they find a way to restore him to his original self.

#dnd #dungeonsanddragons #dndmaps #ttrpg #ttrpgmaps #pathfinder #rpg #pf2e #5e #dnd5e #airship #magic #fantasy #cartographer #cartography #mapmaking #hi fantasy #underwater

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obeythebreadlord · 2 years

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Ok so I know this sucks but I wanted to share a random GF fanfic with Ford and Wendy bonding-

(NO SHIPS INVOLVED!!!)

“Sup Stan 2!” She yelled waving at him. “Wendy do you know why I hear a loud racket on the roof?” Ford asked kinda hesitant about talking with her. He didn’t hate Wendy, he definitely adored her calm personality unlike Dipper who seems to fangirl over him. But he wasn’t really the biggest fan of teenagers since he knew they can be a pain to deal with. “Oh yea sorry dude that was me! I’m playing a game of bullseye with the pole!” Before Ford could reply she suddenly jumped off the roof in which Fords heart nearly skipped a beat but grabbed onto one of the tree branches and was able to swing back down. “So wanna play bullseye with me man?” She said throwing a rock up and down. It took Ford a minute to find words after witnessing her extremely impressive trick but replied, “I guess I could give it a shot..” Wendy led Ford up to the roof where her hideout was. “So basically you just grab a rock and try and hit the thing right there, pretty simple instructions!”

Ford listened as he then grabbed a rock and aimed it at the target. Then he threw it and was able to hit the middle. “BULLSEYE!!!” Wendy yelled putting a arm around Ford. “High six dude!” Wendy said putting her hand up for a high six. Ford decided to high six her and laughed with her a bit. After a few throws at the pole they decided to take a break by sitting down in the lawn chairs. “You know I honestly thought you were gonna be like your brother Stanley but your freaking awesome dude! Maybe one day you should hang with my crew!” Wendy said elbowing him. “I don’t know if they would want a 60 year old man hanging with them.. besides I should probably stay at the shack with Dipper and Mabel.” Ford said nervously. “Nah bro, I told my friends about you and they love you bro. My friend Thompson literally promised to get your name written on his forehead!”

Ford seemed to blush a little, he never thought anyone would adore him as much as Dipper, especially a group of teenagers. “Well hopefully one day I’ll be able to meet your friends, thank you Wendy I really appreciate it!”

“No problamo Stan 2!”

This is kinda for all the people like me who like fanfics like this 😀👏 (also possibly Ford simps like m-)

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tparker48 · 3 years

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"Your task is simple noobie, sneak into our opponent's team and get intel on who to look out for. And do not get caught, we won't be able to reach you in there" his captain said.

"Understood, I'll be in and out before you know it" the tiny would crawl underneath the gap of locker room doors as he walking into the area. The tiles slightly pale as the air smelled of old sweat. Carefully, he made his way toward one of the lockers as he climbed the hole along the panel to the top. Thankfully he picked one that wasn't too noisy as his shoes hit latched on the ends.

He climbed all the way to the top as he perched himself upon an edge as he heard the doors begin to open. Each of the players would shift themselves into the area the sound of cleats and banging shoulder pads came closer. As they came into view, the little would duck a little as he readied his camera.

"Man was that an interesting skrim match. I swear that shoulder nearly knock me off my feet"

"Heh, you that heavy dude. You're almost light as a feather. But speaking of feet, mine are nearly killing me with that running we've been doing"

"Man, they must be really packin this year" the little guy said holding his camera. listening amongst the crowd of players as each conversed with one another. At the same time, he would begin to take pictures from his phone as he scanned and snapped each number and player they see. But there was a particularly bunch that caught his attention the sound of ruckus echoed through the lockers. A hoard of players would begin to swarm the locker doors as each got ready to change from there gear.

"Good work boys, freshen up and get ready for the game tomorrow. And sure to plenty of rest" the coach said among them. The little guy tried to take a picture of him, but sea of players would keep him out of frame before losing him. But a sudden ruckus would soon to turn up below him as the two players were caught in an argument.

"Next time you decide to catch the ball 27, make sure you can actually catch" he heard from below. He held his camera over the edge as he took pictures at the two.

"Get off my case 60! You're the one who threw it too far"

"Not my fault you can't catch think faster than you. Psh, might as well stick to line"

"Ooo note, players 27 and 60 have no coordination. This'll be usueful for tomorrow" the little guy said.

"I'll show you who should stick to line back" one of the players would tackle into the other as they were sent into the locker. Its startled the little guy at first as he continued taking pictures. At that point, the commotion would be to get attraction as the other players would start to gather around.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" They echoed through the locker room.

"Ooo ho ho, now this this is some useful info. Just let them go at take picture and numbers. Simpl-"

"Hey 26! Brace yourself!" Number 60 would go in for a tackle as the both the players crashed into the locker. The force behind it would shake the frame as it distorted the little guy's balance. Before he could get his footing back, he fell of the lockers as he tumbled to the ground

"Please land somewhere soft! Please land somewhere soft!" The little yelled as he fell to the ground. His vision constantly turning before becoming dark with a white surface in front of him. He blinked his eyes for a moment as he slowly got up and looked at the surface. A cushioned pad would be underneath him as he gave a deep sigh of relief. He soon began to stand back to his feet as the as it went to get off and pat himself down. "Oh Thank goodness,for a second there i thought i was gonna land somewhere wor-..." standing on the bench, the little guy started to look up as pillars of players towered around the table. Each of them peering down at the little guy standing in the center of the table.

"What's a little guy doing in here?"

"I don't know, but he picked the place to snoop around. Probably stealing something".

"Let me at em, i'll show him something he can snoop into"

"Eheh, now now guys. Let's not be too hasty. I um...i can explain" the little guy says backing into the pad. The players getting even more closer to the table.

"Now now boys, that's no way to treat a little. Allow me.." The team captain would push a few players aside as the he stood at the front of the table. Moving himself a little closer as his hair blocked the light overhead. "Apologies for them, they tend to get a little roudy when they see someone smaller than them. What's brings you here little one? Never seen someone the of football around here"

"I-I....**ahem** im simply passing through. Heard some commmotion and...decided to look into it. Didn't want to cause any attention"

"Cause the attention huh? Well you certainly are beyond that point" the team captain soon saw a glare from his vision as he looked to the little camera in the pile. The little guy froze for a bit as two finger rose over head a picked it up. "Hmph! Passing through huh? Looks to me like you were taking pictures" he eyed the camera for a bit before seeing a symbol from another university. "Ah i see, so the they're snooping on us huh? We got ourselves a spy boys!" The team captain held up the camera into the air as many squinted at it, but their gaze soon turned downward as the furrowed their look down at the little guy.

"W-what no! I wasn't spying at all. Just hear me out-"

"Sorry little one, evidence spells clear as day. So the other team wasn't to know more about us huh? Heh, well then lets give them what they ask for. Boys? Form a line" with an echoed chuckle, the would line themselves, behind the captain as he stood in front of the table.

"Gah!" The little guy would try and hop off the table, but a thumb would rest on his legs.

"Ah ah ah, can't have you running off just yet. And to make sure you don't" the captain would pull out a patch of tape as he laid it across the little guy's legs.

"Hey! Wha-what are you doing!"

Giving you the info you wanted" the captain would turn his back towards the little guy on table as he unfastened his pants. Pulling them down, his round glutes would stick out partially as he hover the crack over.

"Th-this is insane, what if your coach comes back and sees you doing this?" The little would pry at the tape, but he wasn't able to get a good hold.

"The coach's gone for today, which means its just you and us. And we hehe, have a very special gift for your data" the captain would soon drop to the table as his ass planted ontop of the little guy. He felt his cheeks spread a little as the sound of little muffles echoed from underneath.

The little guy's world would be dark, but the warm smell still remained as he pushed his hands between the ass crack. With each push, he could feel the hairs along the cracks length and in between it, the hole clenching at him as he bucked against it. "Hey! This isn't funny, get...off of me!".

"Sure thing. But first, your gift" as the captain sat down firmly onto the table, he would soon begin to spread his left cheek away from the other as the wall of ass planted ontop of the little guy. The sound of churning echoed above him before the hole he pushed against began to open up, before the little knew it, a warm scent escaped from inside as his nose scrunched at the smell of it.

"There go, fresh data just for you. I hope you like it"

"Augh! Come on, seriously. Get off me alrea-" before the little could finish, a rush of hot air burst into him as the smell followed behind it. The captain would feel the seat begin to warm as he chuckled to himself. Feeling the little hands underneath pounding against his. Ass as released another one. At that point, the little guy's eyes would begin to water as a second rush of air blew into him.

About a few more seconds passed before the captain began to stand back up. But not before rubbing his ass in place as the sound of grunts sounded underneath. "Aah, now i feel much better. Been holding that in since practice".

"You...are a bastard you know!" The little guy coughed.

"Heh, such harsh little words for a squirt. I do hope a little gas didn't get the better of you"

"Peh, hardly"

"Good, cause the rest of the of the team want to give you some data too" the two of them looked to the other players as they looked at the little guy with eager anticipation. "He's all yours boys. Oh and, do be sure to drop him off at the other team's place".

"With pleasure" one of the players behind him said as he stood forward. Peering down at the little as the captain went out. His shadow casted over the little guy as a little smirk came across his face.

"Ehehe..please rethink about this" the little said sweating.

"Oh i've thought of it alright" the player would seperate his legs apart as he moved them along the length of the table until his ass hovered over the little guy's head. Pulling his pants down, he spread both cheeks apart as he as aligned it with his face. "I'd hold your breath if I were you" as the player said that, his ass would move closer as the area darkened. As it sat to the table, it would plant down on his shoulders. Leaving his face to be in the center as his hole winked against his cheeks. "Unlike the captain, i like to have things much close and personal against my hole"

The little guy would feel the force of his hole mush into him as its wrinkled skin still had a little sweat in between. He tried kicking his legs from behind to get his attention, but he only received a firm press from the hole above as it slowly moved in place. As it did, the hole would begin to open up as the as a fart came out in firm bursts. The hole clamping back onto to his face each time as the farts ringed through his ears.

"Grgh! Stop it already!"

"Sorry squirt, i ain't stoppin til every bubble inside me is out and blown into you" the player sat down a little more as the hole covered over the side of the little guy's face "so sit tight". Mire churns would echo from inside him as the table once again started to feel warm. The warm smell following behind as it resonated strongly underneath him.

Another few seconds passed as the players farts soon stopped. As it started to get up, he poked a finger against the back of the little guy's head as he felt him slide off against it. "Thanks for the release squirt".

"Hah....hah...please, no more farts for lord sakes"

"Quit your whining but mat, you got the rest of us to tend to" a bigger players would step into the light as the towered over head. He also spread his ass apart as he hovered overhead. "Now just keep your head juust like that for.." As the the big player casted overhead, the little guys vision would soon go dark.

An hour later:

The other team would just now be finishing up practice as each went to change there gear. Some of them talking amongst each other while others went and trained a bit more. Suddenly, they heard a flurry of knocks on the enterance of the locker as a shadow showed up before disappearing.

"Hmm, wonder who that could be" one the players went to go open the open, but found no one outside. The only thing standing there was as small twisting jar. "Hmm, there's a note" bringing it inside, he read it to the other players as the sound stared puzzled at it. "Here is your data. Be sure to get it cleaned up. Winky face? The hell does that mean?" As the player said, they soon heard loud bangs coming from the jar as the one them slowly went to open it. Untwisting the lid, they were all met with a foul smell as a jock would stored inside. Along with the little guy as he popped out of it gasping for fresh air.

"Holy crap! What the hell happened?"

"The smells, so..so many smells. Who'd think that many players could smell that bad" the little said climbing out.

"They, what do you mean?"

"I'll tell you later. For now im just gonna...lay here for a while" the little guy would sprawl onto the table as he shut his eyes in defeat. Leaving the other players confused as they looked back at the tired tiny.

"Dang, they must've really did a number on you" his captain said.

"Ugh, you have no idea"

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Cigarette Daydreams

Pairings: young Javier Peña x young f!reader

Inspiration: Cigarette Daydreams by Cage The Elephant

Summary: Javier drives all night in the rain, wondering what went wrong and where. How he lost you, the one woman he’d ever loved.

W/C: 5.4k

Warnings: language, talk of death, lots of talk of sexual content but nothing explicit, lots of angst, emotions are running high here, talk of poor mental health. this handles some heavy topics so please be warned. set in the 60s so there’s a really brief mention of being drafted.

A/N: So this is a song I like but it’s really emotional, as is this fic. I just wanted to explore what Javier would’ve been like when he was young. It’s not necessarily all in chronological order but I kind of think it makes sense... let me know if it doesn’t. thank you to all my friends/beta readers who helped me with this one, like @leonieb, @feelingmadclever, @theteddylupinexperience, and a bunch of others :)

Javier smoked his first cigarette with you. It would become a lifelong addiction: the cigarettes, that is. You, on the other hand, were a yearning he could never satisfy. An addiction is something you can feed; you can dull it by giving it exactly what it wants. Javier wanted you, still wants you desperately. The difference is that he cannot have you.

It’s been years since he last saw you. Since he last heard your enchanting laugh, smelled the warm scent of your hair product as he kissed the top of your head. He thinks about you all the goddamn time. What life would be like now if you hadn’t gone your own way. He misses you like hell, but he’s sure you’re off and married and conquering the world in your own way. He’s never tried to find out. He’s too scared it’s true.

Laredo was more of the place you told people you hailed from. The name was recognizable, easily: oh, you’re from the place where A&M’s other campus is located? Exactly, you’d respond, and it was much less of a hassle. In reality, you and Javier both grew up in a small community out in the farmlands near Laredo.

You’d grown up with him. Everyone in the town knew you, and they knew Javi equally as well. He was an interest of your community: from the day you took those standardized tests in second grade, everyone knew that Peñita was going places, but his temper held him back. His emotions consumed him.

He was blonde as a baby; you’d seen in photos, scattered around Chucho’s house. His hair gradually grew darker as he grew older, and your classmates all teased him. You didn’t remember a time where his hair was lighter than a dark blonde, being a child yourself. But it was an evolution that matched him, you had come to realize in your adult years.

Not only was he smart, he was a born athlete. Javier was always a bit smaller than the other boys, but damn was he quick. He could run and run and no one could match him. That’s what made him so successful in early football training. From the start, Chucho enrolled him in football, despite Alejandra’s weak protests. She gave in when she saw her baby in a helmet and massive shoulder pads, grinning at her with one front tooth.

You and Javier were not in the same circles as children. He played with the boys on the field, always the running back when they played football or the offense when they played soccer. He had a temper, though. If there was ever a scuffle on the soccer pitch, you could bet Javier was one of the fighters. You, on the other hand, sat in the shade of the elementary school building, reading book after book.

His mother was beautiful. She had long dark hair that smelled of something exotic and warm, and she had a smile with a dimple in one cheek. She brought treats to your class on his birthday, which was in November. She read books to your class on her assigned story days, Javier cuddled into her side. He adored her.

Alejandra Peña died when you were in sixth grade. You can remember the way the class was silent the next morning, Javier’s desk empty. You nearly threw up from the emotion when you heard that she was gone. Your eyes blurred with tears. The loss was inconceivable to your twelve-year-old brain.

You rode your bike past his house that night. There was a lamp on in the room you knew to be his. His silhouette paced back and forth through the small, second-floor bedroom. You didn’t know what you could do or say, and so you rode off through the neighborhood.

His hair grew even darker after that. What had been a dark blonde became a light brown as middle school progressed. His anger flared up. He would throw punches when the kid acting as referee made a call Javier deemed to be bullshit.

You were something different. Javier found you fascinating the first time you truly interacted, seated together for a class. You were fourteen then, his face just starting to grow a bit of dark hair on his jaw. You were absorbed by your books, hardly talking to anyone and even sneaking it under the table during lectures.

One day, he called your name to catch your attention. You didn’t notice it, lost in your own world. He snatched the book from your hands and slammed it on the table. “Hey. Princesa, we got work to do.”

You frowned. “Give it back, Peñita.”

“Only after we finish this assignment. I don’t want homework tonight.” He stuffed the book in his backpack and tossed you a pencil.

“I won’t do it until you give it back,” you bartered coolly, crossing your arms and sitting back in the chair. “And I have more willpower than you. That’s a fact.”

He glared at you for a moment, the both of you staring the other down. It lasted quite a while, more than you expected. Javier broke first, handing you your book and grumbling over the worksheet.

You became better partners after that. Javier even apologized for it two weeks later. You forgave him, and something about his smile made your heart flutter around in your ribcage.

That started the friendship. You’d walk together in the halls, chatting about your parents and sports and homework for the night. Then middle school became high school and things changed between you, even though nothing you did was different.

Javier had always been a good athlete. He became the first-string running back for the high school, leading them to state his freshman year. When you walked together in the halls now, there was an expectation from the others. Boys and girls only walked together if they were couples, and a star football player was a coveted date.

You’d explained that to him. “Javi, as much as I love you, and you know I do, people are gonna think we’re together. I don’t want you to have to deal with that,” you’d pleaded. “I’d be ruining your chances. I think it’s better if we walk separately now.”

Javier nodded. He had to play along. He couldn’t let you know that in the past few months, he’d begun to feel things for you he’d never felt before. He had dreams about you at night, the kind where he’d wake up to damp sheets. He’d noticed your body changing, and his changed too. He thought about you when he’d lie awake at night, his hand in his boxers. The hormones were beginning to pump through Javier’s blood in a way that may have never really ever stopped.

From then on, you’d walk alone in the hall. Your nose was buried in a book at first, navigating it alone. Then you’d made friends, and you’d talk with people as you slammed your locker shut. You’d give Javier a wave, leading him to be roughhoused by his teammates who took him in as one of their own.

You became different from him. You were known for being an artist and a writer. You embraced the loving spirit of the 60s’ culture and made warm oil paintings of fields and flowers, wrote poetry that won awards, and even wrote a collection of short stories. You weren’t a hippie, but you were artsy. Javi became a bit of a jock.

The pressure grew to be too much in the middle of Javier’s junior season. It was the end of fall. You were both 17. You’d stopped maintaining a friendship now, far from as close as you’d been in the earlier days. You waved at him in the hall and that was it. It changed when the stress of being an athlete pushed on Javier’s brain until it popped. He quit the team, spending his time after school in his bedroom at home. He no longer proudly wore the team’s t-shirts or his letter jacket.

You heard about it through rumors. You didn’t talk to Javier. He kept his head down in the halls now. There were dark circles under his eyes. He’d sit in the library for hours, forcing himself to cram knowledge into his brain. If he wouldn’t be going to college for football now, he figured, he’d better get smart fast.

You’d sat at a table across the library as you worked on your chemistry homework. You glanced up. Javier looked down. He’d been looking at you. You stared at him until he looked up again. “Can I sit with you?” You’d mouthed, and he nodded. A small smile graced his face.

Packing up your textbook and papers, you dragged a chair over. “Hi, Javi,” you said. Your voice was quiet and painfully soft.

He smiles a little. “Hey, princesa.”

It’s quiet for a moment, the both of you staring at your papers and pretending like you were working. You weren’t. “I missed you,” you finally admitted after the silence passed.

His heart skipped a beat. “I missed you too. Probably more than you missed me.”

You shook your head. “I was wrong. I liked walking with you in the halls. I miss that, I miss us,” you admit, your hand resting over his. He looked up at you with the big brown eyes you’ve always loved, and your smile softened. “Your hair is so dark now, Peñita.”

He nodded a little. “It just keeps going. I don’t know if it will ever stop.”

“You’re funny,” you chuckled and retracted your hand. “How have you been? I heard about the football thing.”

He sighed softly. “It was too much. Not me, not anymore. I hated it.”

“Who are you now, then?” You asked quietly.

He looked up at you. “I don’t know.”

You’d smiled. “I can help you find out.”

That’s how your friendship began again.

It wasn’t a friendship for long, not with how you noticed Javier had changed. His hair was that warm, dark, chocolate color, his nose finally fit his face, he’d grown stronger and leaner and taller. He’d acquired a different sense of confidence, a different posture and walk. But it was clear: he was still your Javi. The one who stole your book all those years ago.

You’d grown even more beautiful over your time apart, he noticed. You’d become self assured and confident too and it showed. You had a little mean streak, and Javier loved it more than life itself. He got a little weak at the knees when you’d tease him.

He’d become a social outcast, essentially abandoning his place in the social hierarchy that high schools provide. When you knocked on his door a few days later, Chucho answered, slightly confused. “Hello.”

“Hi,” you said, smiling apologetically. “I’m a friend of Javi’s, I’m here to study with him.”

The older man was a mirror of Javier many years from now. He had a strong nose too, and a worn face. It made lines when he’d smiled. “I didn’t know Javi had many friends anymore.”

You shrugged. “Well, I think you’re right. But… I’m here.”

Javi jogged down the stairs, frowning when he saw his father at the door. You came inside and studied and Javier couldn’t help but to beam at you. Studying wasn’t much of studying. As you’d sidetracked the work and started conversing, Javier leaned in as if he was going to kiss you. You stopped him, but kept his face close. “Not now, Javi. I want it to be perfect. But I do want to kiss you.”

He’d panicked when you’d stopped him, but your words reassured him, and he breathed a chuckle. “Sneak out with me tonight.”

You agreed.

12:30 A.M. rolled around. You pocketed a pack of your dad’s cigarettes and a lighter and rode your bike to the pond nearby.

Javier sat there waiting. He was wrapped in a leather jacket, jeans covering his long legs as he sat by the side of the pond. Crickets chirped and birds called and when he looked at you, your heart fell apart in your chest. It never really glued itself back together. Not even to this day.

You sat next to him, and he put an arm around your shoulders. You couldn’t wait any longer, and you leaned in and kissed him and he was absolutely perfect. His soft lips pressed back against yours, those hands buried themselves in your hair. You broke away a second later and both of you grinned at each other. It was only seconds more before he pulled you in for the second kiss you’d ever had in your life.

That night was not only Javier’s first kiss but the first time he smoked a cigarette. You pulled one thin stick from the pack and placed it between his lips, lighting the end.

He was a natural at it, unlike you, who’d tried before and choked and spluttered on the smoke. You were better at it now, able to handle yourself. He breathed in and out and passed it to you, and he looked so effortlessly cool and sexy and beautiful that you didn’t take a drag, you grabbed his face and kissed him again.

You were so many firsts for Javier. His first kiss, his first cigarette, his first fuck. You’d done it in the back of his truck, on a hot night where you parked in a field far from the town and rolled all of the windows down. You finally got to feel his strong body, got to feel his passion for you as he tugged on your lip with his teeth and pushed inside of you. It was sheer bliss for both of you, even if he never made you orgasm that night.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to figure that out. Javier was a natural, his hands wandering and feeling everything your body had to offer until they found just the right spot to make you cry his name into the hot Texas night. You snuck out with him often, smoked and fucked in his house when Chucho was gone, or by that pond.

You talked a lot after. You were the first he opened up to about his mother. He missed her like hell. He told you that he wanted to work in some kind of law enforcement. He thought drug enforcement might suit him. You opened up about your own trauma to him, and he held you as you cried into his body. He’d kissed your forehead and told you he promised that nothing would ever happen to you when he’s around, and it was completely believable because Javier was like some deity to you. He was strong and warm and loving and kind and beautiful and you thought, truly, that he could do no wrong.

He never betrayed that trust either. Javier was a wonderful boyfriend to you in the daylight hours too. You’d study together, go on bike rides or just drive around in his truck. You spent almost every weekend with him. Chucho adored you too, loved your humor and kindness and most of all, your love for his son. Your family didn’t like Javier much, so you simply avoided your house with him.

Javier was so proud when he first pulled up your driveway in his truck soon after you began again. He worked for the Villafañes down the road as a farmhand, a summertime assistant to the aging man who lived there. He saved his earnings all summer and split the cost with Chucho. He’d had it for 8 months and it had been on the verge of the junkyard the entire time.

It was a piece of shit, and you both knew it. It was a deep red, rusty and broken down. The shocks were terrible and made it bounce like a bull in a ring. It didn’t matter, because it was his.

He’d pick you up in that truck and drive all night. The two of you sang along to the radio, then would talk, then make out in the backseat and drive again. You loved Javier, and you admitted it quickly. He said it immediately after you.

People looked at you like you were crazy when you held Javier’s hands in the hall. Wasn’t he a mental case? Who would give up something like he had, and for no apparent reason? You didn’t give a shit, even if your friends told you Javier was no good. They didn’t know him, didn’t know that his middle name was Fernando and he hated it and that his mother’s favorite gem, ruby, was yours too, that Chucho told you Javi wanted to marry you someday or that Javier loved to nudge your neck with his nose after sex, both of you warm with the hot Texan air flowing through his open windows.

You told them they didn’t get it, and they said you were the one who didn’t. You’ve got everything going for you. Why risk it with the nut job?

Javier remained a pariah, an outcast, but you didn’t give a shit. You called out his name in the hall and waved, sat with him at lunch and laughed until you choked on the terrible school meal. You were loud and affectionate, and it brought Javi back from the fringes of high school society he’d been banished to.

Javier worked in fields and barns to earn money, building his muscles. You worked in customer service, building your restraint. Your town had opened a drive-in restaurant a few years before, complete with roller-skating waitresses. Being a skilled skater, you signed up.

It was fun, but a pain in the ass some days. Customer service was rarely enjoyable.

The highlight of the summer after your junior year was Javier pulling up to the restaurant every few days. “Peñita!” You’d squeal and put in an order for just what he always wanted- strawberry milkshake, double patty cheeseburger, large fries.

“Hey, Princesa,” he’d mumble back with a small smile, leaning in for a kiss. He looked like a Texan James Dean, white t-shirt cuffed and worn jeans. His dark hair was gelled back, though much of it fell loose from his long day of hauling crops for Don Villafañe. This coolness was contrasted by his shitty truck, dust caking the windows, and the fact that he was far from blonde now.

You’d fold your arms over his open window and kiss him, tripping over your skates in your excitement. He’d laugh and tease you, and he’d always give you the cherry off the top of his milkshake. You began telling your coworkers to put two cherries on top, so that he could have one too. He still gave both to you.

During your senior year, Javier gave you his class ring. It was large and bulky on your fingers, thinner than his, but it made you beam with pride as you walked through the halls. You’d cried when he gave it to you, promising he’d replace it with a diamond someday. You knew it would never last that long.

Senior year was uneventful. You went to prom with Javier, wearing a peach colored dress. Javier wore his father’s tuxedo with a tie to match your color. The photo was awkward but sweet, the two of you clearly in love. You graduated equally uneventfully, and the two of you spent the night in his truck, out in a field, promising sweet nothings through the sound of skin slapping skin. “Here’s to the class of ‘66,” Javier murmured into your neck.

You had big dreams, and Javier’s were far different. He planned on attending Texas A&M, not far away. You’d earned a fantastic scholarship at a small liberal arts college in Upstate New York. You both knew these things, but Javier seemed determined to make it work. He knew the two of you loved each other; shouldn’t that be enough?

You felt guilty the entire summer. You had anxiety attacks quite a bit, felt that you were leading Javier on. Then, another part of you thought, he must know. He must not believe you could pull off a long distance relationship with only letters and phone calls.

Javier passed the summer blissfully unaware. He was young and in love: he thought there was nothing that could go wrong. You still spent time together, more than you ever had, in fact. Something gnawed away at your insides as the time passed.

On the rare days neither of you worked, you’d find somewhere deserted and sit with your legs dangling from his tailgate. You’d nick liquor and cigarettes from your parents and share them, laughing and talking. Planning a future you knew wouldn’t come.

The day before you left, you spent the day with your boyfriend. You had a picnic dinner, complete with some stolen beers from Chucho’s refrigerator. You sat on a blanket in a nearby field, watching as the afternoon dwindled down to an orange-hazed sky.

As the sun set, tears formed in your eyes. “Javi?” You asked him softly, your voice cracking.

“What is it, princesa?” He returned, pulling you closer into his side. The tall grass swayed around you, and you bit your lip to stop from choking out a sob.

“I love you, Javier. And I always will.” But as you said the words, your actions said otherwise. You removed your class ring from your finger, placing it in his palm. “But, I think… I think we need to be our own people for a while. Maybe someday we’ll meet again. Maybe things will be different, but I’m going to New York and you’re staying here. Fuck, you could be drafted, and I-“

Javier stopped you, pulling away and looking at you in the face. His eyes showed his heartbreak. “I thought we were gonna get married, be together forever.”

You choked out a sob. “Javi, I want to. I do. But I can’t. I can’t live that kind of life.” You wanted to travel, to do things, to live freely and be whoever you wanted. Javier wanted to stay in Laredo and work in law enforcement. The two weren’t compatible.

“There’s nothing stopping you,” he begged, taking your hand in both of his. “Please, I’d move to New York with you, or you could go to A&M with me, please,” he asked, his eyes welling with tears. “You’re the love of my life, baby.”

You couldn’t look at him. The emotion was too much to bear. “Javier,” you whined and pulled your hand from his. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

His heartbroken stare makes you cry harder into your hands. You stood, ready to find your way to the road and walk home.

Javier caught you by the waist, then removed your hands from your face. “I-I understand. I do. But… kiss me one last time?”

You stared at him, tears staining your face and his cheeks equally damp. You nodded and Javier cupped your face, kissing you slowly and lovingly. It was tender and bittersweet. It was not the way you’d kiss him at the drive-in restaurant or in the back of his truck. It was not the way you’d sneak a kiss goodbye in front of Chucho. It was desperate. You both knew what it meant. Maybe that’s why it lasted so long.

You broke away and pressed your forehead to his before finding the dirt road and beginning the walk home. You needed to finish packing, and was getting dark. You didn’t dare to ask Javier to drive you home. You feared you might change your mind if you were around him a second longer.

Javier never saw you after that. It was partially serendipitous and partially out of effort.

When he returned home on winter break or for Thanksgiving, he contained himself to Chucho’s house, or he’d see one or two friends he still had. That was about it. If he knew you weren’t in town, he’d go out and have a good time. It would all go downhill if you were there, and he knew it, so he resigned himself to long nights with his father.

You wanted to see him again. You drove past his house many times when you were home from New York, seeing the light on in his old room again. Every time, you stopped just a little longer than you should have at the stop sign yards from his house. You contemplated pulling into the driveway and begging him to take you back. It never happened.

Once or twice, you even caught a glimpse of dark-chocolate hair through the front windows of the house. It made your heart stop and your eyes tear up.

You moved out of town when you graduated. You started a career near your college, far from your hometown that was almost considered Laredo. Your wish was fulfilled.

Javier’s was too- well, only partially. He stayed in Laredo. He worked in law enforcement there for a while before he got picked to work with the DEA. It didn’t matter what kind of job he got. He didn’t have you, and that made him miserable.

You’d been the one to save him. Now he didn’t even know if you still had the same last name you did when he slipped his class ring onto your finger, when he murmured your full name and promised one day that he’d get you a gorgeous ruby and diamond band instead of that class ring and he’d change that last name to Peña.

Javier got a new truck recently. It’s nice. The first car he ever bought that wasn’t used, actually. It’s a deep red, the same color of his first car. Ruby, he named it.

He thinks about you all the goddamn time. Nothing could change that, not time or hookups. He sighs as he thinks about the years since you’ve seen him, while he drives around in the pouring rain. Why? How?

He never slept around in college, too lovesick and still hoping you’d call and want to meet with him, would want to rekindle what you’d had.

He forced himself to get moving after that. He had a few girlfriends when he worked for the Webb County Sheriff's Office. He even got serious with one.

Lorraine was beautiful and kind and funny. He loved the way she’d shotgun a beer and then kiss him, her lips tasting of the fermented liquid. She was a good time, a great partier. He asked her out and things went well, he supposed.

She wanted different things from Javier. He’d been starting to grow restless, wanting to leave Laredo. Lorraine, however, wanted to settle down. She wanted the whole thing: a big ranch-style, a fireplace in the living room, four or five babies with Javier’s brown eyes, running around and laughing.

As much as he wanted it, he couldn’t. He nodded along and played the game, telling her that he’d do that for her. He’d provide for her and give her all the kids he wanted. He’d be a good father and a great husband and everything would be good.

It was more to himself that he said those things. He wanted to believe they were true, really, but he had the feeling you’d had years ago. He wanted her, wanted such a calming life, but at the same time, he didn’t want it. He wanted to get out and do things and feared being fenced in.

He proposed to Lorraine. Got her a nice diamond ring and everything. She’d cried and kissed him and he’d forced himself to smile but it wasn’t genuine. At least she didn’t know that.

The wedding was planned. It was going to be a grand affair for the town, nearly everyone invited. Everyone was like family to the members of the town. Lorraine got an expensive, fluffy white dress and Javier bought a tuxedo.

The ceremony was supposed to start at 5:00. Everyone sat patiently as the clock ticked past it. They didn’t know a thing. They didn’t know Lorraine was pacing the church basement, her heart clenched in fear. No one had seen Javier. Not even the groomsmen.

Then it became 5:10, 5:30. At 5:45, Lorraine’s mother began to quietly tell the church that the ceremony wouldn’t be happening today. The disgruntled attendees left, wondering what happened.

Javier had ran. He drove out of Laredo, straight for Dallas. He wanted out. He’d left early in the morning, not even saying goodbye to his father. He was already on a plane to Washington D.C. when the bride realized she was no longer getting married today.

He got a job working for the DEA. They’d offered him one a few months ago, but he’d declined. He wanted to stay in Laredo with Lorraine, he’d bluffed. Things hit the fan when he began training for the new job.

He fucked every woman in sight. He didn’t care who they were: if they wanted him, he wanted them. He never stopped smoking, developed a love and almost dependence on whiskey. When he went to Colombia, he paid for his first ever escort.

It was what he deserved, he told himself. The one woman he’d ever loved left him. He had left the one person who ever gave a shit about him. Ruined her life and left her with a sense of anxiety whenever she was in that church’s basement as she remembered.

He doesn’t deserve attachment. He doesn’t deserve someone caring for him. That’s why he sleeps around. That’s why he’s left so many lovers in the dust.

Stop thinking about that, Javier tells himself. He whips a U-turn, opening the window and hanging a hand out of it. It forces himself to return to reality, to get out of his goddamn head and to not crash this new truck. The rain pelts his skin and he frowns. It never rains around Laredo, and it’s the one night he’s in town.

He pulls into the old drive-in restaurant, thinking back to the happy days. He can still see your baby-faced grin as you skated over to him, long legs pushing you along. He could nearly taste the strawberry milkshake on his tongue. It’s closed for the night, since it’s in the early hours of the morning now.

He jumps as a car pulls into the spot next to him. He looks down, knowing that whoever it is will likely recognize him. Everyone recognizes him around here. He’s not in the mood to talk.

“They’re closed,” a voice calls out from the other car, and Javier’s heart stops. He’d know that voice anywhere, even if it spoke a different language.

He looks up and his eyes meet yours for the first time in twenty years. They’re still just as beautiful, still glimmering. “Peñita,” you breathe out as it clicks in your mind.

He’s aged beautifully. His dark hair is neatly pushed back, though it’s a little shorter than he used to keep it. His face has lines now, heavy from the stress of his job. His eyes look weary and tired.

You get out of your car. Javier does the same. You look at him, standing there, with a new truck that’s the same color of his very first piece of shit pickup. “Nice truck,” you comment.

He smiles softly. “Thanks. It’s new.”

You walk around the front of your car, eyes wide in disbelief. There’s hurt on his face and you know you’re the cause of it. “Javier… I missed you.”

He looks down at you, now standing right in front of him. “I missed you more.”

You throw your arms around him and hug him tight. Your eyes water with tears as you squeeze him, wishing this moment would never end. He hugs you back, those arms still strong and protective.

He presses a soft kiss to your head. He mutters his nickname for you quietly. His voice is different now, huskier and deeper. It’s a beautiful sound. His lips are buried in your hair but you can hear it all the same. “Princesa.”

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic

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soysaucevictim · 3 years

Text

“more than ever, hour (work is never over)”

Summary: Logan goes for a run, and hits a snag when Roman seems to have found himself in trouble. Again. (This happens about a year before “Cherry Cola”, to be clear. Sanders Sides, Gym Rat AU. One-shot. Ao3 link.)

Genres: Slice of Life, Fluff, Light Angst, Sickfic(?)

Characters: Logan and Roman centric. Janus, Patton, and Remus mentioned.

Relationships: Logince (platonic), Background Intrulogical (platonic/ambiguous), Background Roceit (sexual/QPP*), Background Loceit (platonic)

Warnings: Lots of numbers, Himbro Roman, Roman Is A Disaster, illness, over-training, sleep deprivation, heat exhaustion, (not as bad as what happened in “Cherry Cola”), vomiting (mentioned), Logan Is A Good Friend

Logan was running his typical checklists before setting out for another HIIT routine over at the gym. He highly valued maintaining his cardiac and overall health. He wasn’t in the medical field like Janus is and Patton used to be, but he didn’t need those credentials to appreciate it.

Considering he was a 28 year old Homo sapien, his maximal heart rate would be 192 beats per minute. Obviously, he wasn’t keen on achieving nor surpassing exactly that red zone. To say there were diminishing returns, would be an understatement. Remus would take the notion as a challenge… to be sure.

But that value was necessary to calculate his initial target – 65% of that, to be relatively precise. 125, rounded up. He intended to reach that after some warm-up routine and the first lap or two. He would consider this the yellow zone.

Once that holds reasonably steady, his next goal was to go for 87% at the highest intensity. So, 167 BPM. Holding that line for at least a minute. 2 minutes, if he was feeling particularly bold, he was in pretty good shape at this juncture. This would be more of an orange zone.

After the spike in intensity, he would go down to 50% for recovery, or 96 BPM. Rest at that load for 3 minutes, in the proverbial green zone. And then crank the figurative gears back up to the 87% target.

He intended to repeat this for at least 10 rounds. Add more, if energy is willing. Sounded like a plan.

To hit these marks, one of the simpler ways Logan enjoyed were via the exercise bikes. But today, he thought he’ll do some laps around the indoor track. He felt he needed to work in some more devoted arm action, and that would be a reasonable way to hit this workout paradigm. This outline seemed elegant and flawless.

He reviewed all of that while he swapped out his casual shoes for runners, in the locker room.

It was exactly noon when he approached the starting line. He popped in some earbuds to his prepared playlists.

He was listening to the mix named “Warm-Up Playlist”. He knew his fellows would jab him for the plainness of it, but the utility simply couldn’t be argued with. It was a selection of songs that started at 50, incrementing up to 100 BPM in tempo. It helped him keep his pace.

He stood to the side, spending a couple minutes doing some preliminary exercises. Ankle circles, leg swings, pelvic loops, arm circles, and hula-hoop jumps. It’s important to keep all the relevant joints stable and readied. Janus would probably congratulate his refreshing fastidiousness, among their motley crew.

After that micro-checklist was completed, he started going toward a brisk walking pace. He was going to check his heart rate after a couple laps to see how close to 65% he was getting.

Halfway into his first lap, he was nearly knocked over by a blur wearing a red crop-top sweatshirt and matching shorts. Roman, clearly not paying attention to what he was doing. Predictably. Logan snorted and rolled his eyes. He had to table his thoughts about his friend’s whole methodology (or lack thereof, as far as he was concerned), or else he’d fall too far out of rhythm!

Roughly a quarter of the way into the second lap, Roman closed in on Logan again, he was going at a jogging pace to a slightly faster walk to match up with Logan. Roman waved and smiled at Logan, “Hey! Didn’t expect to see ya here, Specs!”

Logan thought the voice was Roman-typically cheery. Frankly Logan would be mystified about this man’s energy, if he hadn’t met Remus first. “Salutations.”

“Why are you going so slooow? Wanna race me? I bet I can totally run circles around you!”

“No. I have a plan I intend to stick to, Roman. You know this.”

Roman melodramatically threw up his arms and pouted at Logan, somewhat impressively coordinated to his slow jogging. “Fiiine. I’m off – I want to see how many laps I can get in, like... the next hour. Adiós, for now~”

Roman went from a jog to a run before he could get a response. Logan tutted before refocusing on getting to that 65% - that yellow zone. After the second lap, he drank some water and checked his pulse… hmmm, 55%. It was time to hit a jog. He skipped a few tracks toward that range and worked to match.

By the time Logan completed lap 3, he reached and held at 65%. So, he turned on a 1-minute interval timer and his “HIIT Playlist”, on his phone. Much of the music went at 120 BPM, give or take 30. This phase, he was going to rely on his fitness bracelet to tell him where he’s at, not enough time to do things digitally… rather, manually or with his fingers, to clarify.

He and Remus programmed this thing to flash his percentage progress, freeing up some mental space to not need to calculate that value repeatedly, whenever he looked at the monitor.

He picked up to a run for about another quarter-lap and broke into a full-tilt sprint. Every 20 or so seconds, he glanced at the bracelet, while keeping the majority of his attention to his surroundings and form.

20 seconds, 73%. Not good enough.

40 seconds, 84%. Logan grimaced and pushed his cadence up a bit more.

50 seconds, 86%. For the love of Archimedes… it’s okay. It’s close.

BEEP! 60 seconds, 88%. Orange. FINALLY. Okay, he thought he had a good read now, being consistent for the next sets should be easier.

Time to, figuratively, dial things way down. He spent approximately 20 seconds running, 40 more jogging, and BEEP.

He took a couple sips from his water bottle, before spending the remaining 2 minutes going at a walk.

1 minute, 30 seconds, 78%.

BEEP. 2 minutes, 71%.

2 minutes, 30 seconds, 60%.

2 minutes, 50 seconds, 53%.

BEEP. 3 minutes, 49%. Green. Logan sighed to himself, “Margin of error, you have to account for it… anyways.”

Round 2.

20 seconds, 76%. Better.

40 seconds, 85%. Almost there.

50 seconds, 87%. Orange, again. Locked on, Logan smiled. Now hold this for 10 more seconds…

BEEP!

Second active rest cycle.

Once he got down to a walk again, he observed that Roman was on the opposite end of the track. Still going at what he could only describe as an absurd pace.

Roman closed in when Logan was 2 minutes into this interval. 69%, by the way. Logan groaned, some of Remus’s sense of humor “rubbing off on him”. Why must people ascribe such crudeness to an arbitrary number, he wondered.

Roman was panting quite loudly, shouting down Logan, “Nerd- Nerd’s got some SPEED!”

Logan took a swig of his water bottle. “This is not the first time you’ve seen me manage this.”

Roman looked like he just realized he should have followed suit, smacking his lips and drinking several gulps from his own water supply. “R-riiight.”

“You really should pace yourself. On everything. Honestly.”

“HEY. Only Snakey McSnakerson gets to tell me that!”

“Is he here right now? Am I wrong?”

Roman was back to pouting, “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

“But you just-”

Roman cupped his hands over his ears, “Lalala – I can’t hear you!”

Roman ran off ahead of him again. Logan could only shake his head.

2 minutes 55 seconds, 51%.

BEEP. 50%. Green.

Round 3.

30 seconds, 80%. Not bad if he said so himself.

40 seconds, 84%. Margin of error.

50 seconds, 89%. Overcompensated somewhat, it would seem. Perhaps Roman’s competitive streak was “infectious”, today.

BEEP! 60 seconds, 91%. Orange, approaching red. Yeah, he was definitely overcompensating.

Third rest, fourth active, fourth rest, fifth active intervals... hitting his marks, pleasingly and without incident.

He was on his fifth rest, soon enough.

Once Logan was walking again, he thought he was up for extending his active intervals to 2’, for the next 5 sets. Things have been building palpable fatigue, but very manageable.

Roman still appeared to holding up, a short distance ahead of Logan, at this point. Perhaps he was slowing down. It was a few moments before the distance was closed again.

Roman was drenched, so Logan decided to ask him, “Are you quite alright?”

“Might be getting a little tired now, no big deal.”

Logan recalled some things Patton instructed all of them about and he looked at Roman more carefully as they walked slowly. Roman looked paler than usual. “Hmmm, is your head hurting, perhaps?”

“Maybe a little. Didn’t get enough sleep again, it’s probably that.”

“I imagine it couldn’t be helping but-”

Roman got a little agitated, “But what, Egg Head?”

“Are you nauseous?”

“I’m not ready to puke, not just yet, Bro Ham.”

“May I check your pulse? Or rather, how does it feel?”

“What are you getting at!?”

“Cramps? Dizziness?… I think you are exhibiting the signs of heat exhaustion.”

Roman looked like he was going to be short with Logan, but it was clear now that he was starting to get somewhat wobbly. Logan decided to prompt him again, “Here, let us go to the showers, you need to cool off.”

Roman knew he couldn’t fight Logan in his current state, “Fiiine.”

Logan was annoyed about cutting his workout short, but he could always resume later. This was more important, anyways.

Roman was lying on his back on one of the benches in the locker room. His outfit then saturated with cool shower water, holding a battery-power fan to himself that Logan let him borrow.

Logan was at his feet, “How are your symptoms now?”

Roman groaned, “You’re not “the doctor” in our group, would you please stop acting like it.”

“I do not wish to see you in the hospital, Roman.”

Roman sputtered a little, “Yeah well, I’m fine.”

“Stable, I suppose, yes. But I know you enough to know you are not “fine”.”

Roman almost shot up to rebut, but a wave of dizziness forced him back down. “Look. I just didn’t get enough sleep – mind was running a bajillion miles an hour last night. So many IDEAS to write down. And couldn’t get to sleep until way after… you know what? Nevermind.”

Logan did care and frankly saw a lot of similar tendencies between the two brothers. It disturbed him and made him wish he was able to help them get a better handle on their sleeping and general health habits. It seemed as though they were both at very high risk of something serious occurring. But at the same time, he recognized that this was not his area of expertise. All he could really do was try to be there for them.

“Speaking of which... I think I see my wall… approaching… going to-”

Before Logan could latch onto any inquiries about walls, Roman dropped the fan and started snoring. After a brief moment of worry, Logan was reasonably sure this was simply a nap, not a loss of consciousness. To his relief.

Logan thought idly, “I suppose I should at least inform Janus what occurred. Roman might not be fit to drive for a while longer.”

Logan tapped out a message, “Hey. I’m in the locker room with Roman. He likely had an episode of heat exhaustion, today. He appears to be doing okay right now. But I felt that it was worth mentioning it to you.”

It was not even 2 minutes before Janus responded with, “WHAT!?”

“He’s safe, just taking a nap. I suppose he wouldn’t mind if you took him home.”

“… omw. That dumb ass has some explaining to do. With love, of course.”

“Indeed, I shall see you shortly then?”

“Yeah, ttyl… thanks, btw.”

Logan supposed he should stick around to make sure Roman was safe before resuming his own agenda. He had to admit, like with Remus, he did enjoy seeing them get some greatly needed rest.

#spilled musing #sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #(*i think that may be a more accurate label to this AU's Roceit)#(honestly both the twins are complete disaster humans)#(but they're in good company)#gymrat au

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

Research Paper

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You and Tim get assigned to complete a research paper together. The two of you end up spending way more time together than originally planned. Warnings: Cursing and balls of fluff Word Count: 2k A/N: I still have a few requests, they are coming I just haven’t had too much time to write new stuff...so I’ve been posting old stories I’ve already completed.

The two of you sat at your dining room table, typing away at various research sites and scribbling down miscellaneous notes that could be helpful later. Finally, you looked up at your silent partner.

“So, why the rush to get this research paper done?”

“I’m busy. This is when I have time to do it.”

“Hm –” Before you could continue the thought, Tim cut you off.

“Look, I know you don’t want to be paired with the weird kid. Let’s just finish this and you don’t have to talk to me anymore.”

“Woah there Tim, relax. I don’t know anything about you. Especially not enough to qualify you as the weird kid.” You watched his face turn a slight shade of crimson. “Ya’know, there’s only 20 kids in this class. I bet if you actually talked to some of them you would make friends.” You got up from your seat and sauntered into the kitchen. “So weird kid, you want something to drink?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m fine.” You chuckled to yourself as he stuttered through his response.

“Well, if you insist on completing this in one night, I need some wine. Sure you don’t want a glass?”

“Okay…” Tim hesitantly responded.

The bottle was gone and you began to spiral down a YouTube worm hole. Clicking video after video, ending up on the ever popular topic of vigilantes. “Why do you think they do it?” You mumbled out loud, forgetting your research partner was still sitting across from you.

“Why does…” Tim tugged at your computer and glared at the screen before him. The video was paused on an image of Nightwing and Red Robin. He remembered that night. Mr. Freeze had armed some kind of mass freeze ray in the subway system. There were 5 casualties that night. His voice echoed throughout the room. “Sometimes the police aren’t enough. They have too much red tape or not enough training to handle certain criminals.”

“There’s just so many of them…”

“I think they need each other. Each one making sure the others don’t cross a line they can’t come back from. Keeping them responsible for their actions.”

“You think they aren’t just inherent do-gooders running around?”

“No. I don’t. This city is a toxin, no one born of it is inherently good. Everyone comes to a crossroads, some chose to go left and others, right. Once one goes to the left, you may never go back. However, those who chose to go right are always tempted to take a shortcut to the left. Even knowing they could never return.”

“Dang…you should write a book or something Tim.”

“Just a lot of experience I suppose?” You furrowed your brows and shot him a questioning look. “I was…uhm…rescued by Batman awhile back. Though not before my parents were poisoned.”

“I’m so sorry…” Your eyes cast to the ground as your hand reached across the table, landing atop of his. “I didn’t know.”

Tim brushed it off, “I didn’t expect you to know. I don’t advertise it. Anyways, how’s the ACTUAL research coming along.” You rolled your eyes and turned back towards your computer.

Tim realized he hadn’t heard from you in awhile, so he glanced up from his computer. You were asleep at the table. His eyes shot over to the clock, 4:07am. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath. Tim then sat there debating what to do for several minutes before pushing his chair back and taking you up in his arms. He laid you on your bed, draping the covers over you, before heading back into the dining room. Almost as soon as Tim sat back at his computer, his phone buzzed.

Don’t forget to get some sleep tonight, baby bird.

Dick had started sending reminders almost every night. Tim debated ignoring it, until more messages came in. Jason, Damian, Barbara, Stephanie, even Cassandra had texted him. Dick truly went all out tonight.

I swear if I have to listen to Dick complain about you not sleeping one more time, I will lose it. Go the fuck to sleep, replacement.

Drake, I was just informed to remind you to sleep tonight. May this serve as that reminder.

Dick just let me know you haven’t slept the past two nights. The body can only properly survive without three nights of sleep. Please sleep.

Timothy Jackson Drake. If you do not sleep tonight, I will be forced to take drastic action. One word: computer.

Don’t make me come knock you out.

Tim quickly sent a group message to everyone. Everyone calm down. It’s only been a day and a half. I’m going to sleep now. And Steph, don’t even look at my fucking computer. Tim sighed and threw himself on your couch, welcoming some much-needed sleep.

You woke up very confused. You glanced around your room, you definitely did not remember going to bed. You threw your legs over the side and noticed you were still completely dressed. What the fuck. Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door. Your eyes darted around the room, noting the two computer still at the dining room table. Tip-toeing over to the living room, you saw Tim passed out on the couch, his phone buzzing beside him. You attempted to end the call, but it answered instead. Shit shit shit. You leapt as far from Tim as you could before whispering into the phone.

“Look I didn’t mean to answer this, but Tim is asleep…and he strikes me as the kind of person who doesn’t get much –” The man on the other end cut you off.

“I’m sorry, who is this? Why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m in class with him. We were partnered on a research paper. He slept…is sleeping here.” You heard the man sigh before he continued.

“Do me a favor and try not to wake him, but tell him Dick called when he does get up.”

“Uh…sure…”

“Oh and put his phone on silent…actually I’ll just block the calls from here. Oh and thanks...I didn’t actually get your name.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, thanks again Y/N.”

You hung up the phone on the weirdest conversation ever and set it next to his computer. You snatched yours up and went back into your bedroom. Might as well get some work done while you waited for Tim to wake up. A few more hours passed and you heard footsteps coming from your living room. Thank god, I so need coffee. You threw open the door and saw Tim standing over his computer.

“Oh, uhm, sorry I slept here last night.”

You waved off the apology, “No problem. What time did we stop?”

“I noticed you were asleep at like 4 in the morning. So I…” Tim ran his finger through his hair, “I just figured the bed was more comfortable.” You smirked as you watched his face turn crimson. Stronger than he looks apparently. “Then I thought it was probably best not to leave that late…so I just crashed on the couch.”

“So we didn’t finish then? As in you better not have finished it without me.”

Tim held up his hands in defense. “No no, I stopped once I saw you were asleep.”

“Well…want coffee and some...” you glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon, “brunch I guess.”

“Oh, uh…if you’re offering? Then sure, I guess.”

“Great, then we can just finish up today.” You made your way to the kitchen, “Oh your brother called.”

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed, “which one?”

“You have multiple? Uh…Dick, I think he said.”

“Yeah, three of them. Do you mind if I call him back?”

You shook your head as you put on the coffee. Tim grabbed the phone from the table and went into your bathroom.

“Dick? Is something wrong?”

“Nah, Alfred just told me you hadn’t been back to the Manor yet. Wanted to make sure we didn’t need to send search and rescue.”

“I’m fine. Listen, do you mind if you cover my patrol tonight?”

“Oh, hot date with Y/N?”

“How do you – nevermind. No, we are finishing a project.”

“Hm, whatever you want to tell yourself Timmy. She seemed sweet on you though.”

“How – who even says that anymore? Are you 60 years old?”

“Awe, look who’s deflecting.”

“Bye Dick!” Tim screamed into the phone before hanging up on his brother.

After brunch was had, the two of you got back to work. However, it didn’t take long for you to get sidetracked.

“Alright, if I sit in this damn chair for another minute I’m going to have permanent back problems. I’m moving to the couch.” You huffed out, before scooping up your computer and plopping down sideways with your back against the armrest. Surprisingly, Tim joined you, propping is feet up on the coffee table. Once the two of you moved to the couch, no more work got done.

“So you close with your family?” You began the barrage of questions. People often called you out for being nosy, but you still couldn’t help it.

“Oh,” Tim glanced up from his computer. “Yeah, I suppose. Too close sometimes.”

“Eh, they wouldn’t be family otherwise. I gather you have a big one?”

“What are we playing 20 questions?”

“Just curious…”

Tim huffed, but began to answer your question anyways. “Yeah, I guess. Though it’s a family forged from bonds, not blood.”

“I’d say that’s the better kind. You chose to stay with and support them, as opposed to being guilted into it because they’re family.”

“Well that clearly struck a chord.”

You shrugged it off, “So three brothers. Blood or bond?”

“Well…a forced bond? Bruce adopted all of us, except Damian I guess.”

You continued to pose questions to your newfound friend, though you found getting most answers was like pulling teeth. Eventually, you made progress and after a few hours you closed your laptop, which had been long since asleep, and tossed it to the floor. “I vote take away and a movie.”

“But we haven’t finished.” Tim argued.

“And I don’t think we are going to tonight. Come on, we still have a month. Relax a little, we’re like 75% done anyways.”

“I –” Before he could protest further you pulled yourself off the couch and reached for your phone.

“I vote Thai.”

You heard a sigh come from the other end of the couch, “Sounds good.” A smile grazed your face as you placed the order and settled comfortably back on the couch. You turned on the movie and didn’t realize you were laying half on Tim until the doorbell roused you. This time it was your turn to don a shade of red. Thankfully, it was too dark for Tim to see.

The food was gone and the movie continued to play in the background, but the two of you were fast asleep laying against each other. That was, until Tim heard a knock on the window. He looked up to see the familiar costumes of his older brothers. He gently held you in place with one arm, while stretching to grab his phone with the other. Tim quickly typed a message.

I’m clearly alive. Leave me the fuck alone.

Tim saw Dick smirk through the window just before a bright white light shone through. Tim’s phone buzzed.

Look Timbers found someone to put up with him.

Of course Jason just had to send that in the group message. Tim typed out his response.

I’m muting this conversation until further notice. Also I’m never telling you guys where I am ever again.

That’s alright, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind telling me. We had a great conversation earlier.

Tim ignored the baited message Dick sent and threw his phone to the other side of the couch before settling back into the comfortable position at your side.

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scotianostra · 3 years

Photo

On November 8th 1752, Seumas a' Ghlinne / James of the Glen was hung at Cnap Chaolis Mhic Pharaig, near Ballachulish.

It is said that on the day of the hanging, the real man who fired the shot had to be held down at a house in Ballachulish to prevent him giving himself up.

The inscription on the Stewart Monument which is a granite block crowned by a quartzite boulder reads:-

James Stewart James of the Glens Executed here November 1752 For a crime of which he was not guilty

#Scotland #scottish #scottish highlands #Jacobites #judicial murder #history

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

Text

Longitduinalwaveme Reviews Old Comics

Today, I will be looking at Detective Comics #353 from 1966, “The Weather Wizard’s Triple-Treasure Theft”. It was written by Gardner Fox and drawn by the inimitable Carmine Infantino.

-The cover of the issue is quite visually striking, with the Weather Wizard stepping out of Flash comics and into Detective Comics.

-”Rain and wind and falling hail! Sleet, lightning, and whipping gale! These are the calling cards of the Weather Wizard--Master of the Monsoon, Tyrant of the Typhoon, Emir of the Elements!” I love the way Silver Age comics introduce characters.

-The comic opens with the revelation that Gotham City has had a drought that’s lasted for four straight years. In case you needed any proof that Gotham has always been a terrible place to live....

-The drought problem is solved by the Weather Wizard breaking the drought and filling all six of the city’s reservoirs. He even writes a huge note in the sky about it! “It was I who filled your reservoirs!” In the note, he claims that he did this as thanks for getting to steal three of the city’s most priceless artifacts.

-In reality, the message was a catfish scheme Mark used to figure out what the three most valuable items in the city were...and it works. “Millionare collector” Felix Bayard becomes concerned that the Weather Wizard has stolen his solid gold drinking cup and replaced it with a fake. To see if this is what happened, he calls in “the foremost art inspector in the city--Haverford Mimms!” (Unrelated side note, but Gotham City has an enormous number of millionaires. It seems like every fifth person in the city is one.)

-Weather Wizard, who had tapped Mimms’ phone, waylays him and gets into Bayard’s mansion by posing has him. He then reveals his trickery and steals the ruby. (He also does one of the quickest clothing changes of all time. He goes from his Mimms disguise to his full Weather Wizard garb in the space of one panel.) Bayard tries to stop him, but the attempt is futile. “Only the Flash has ever been able to stop me--and you aren’t the Flash--not by a long shot!” Also, Weather Wizard makes his getaway via “a rainbow of solid hues”.

-Batman and Robin (the latter of whom broke his wrists playing basketball and cannot go out on patrol) are pondering what the Weather Wizard might have stolen when Commissioner Gordon calls Batman to report the Bayard theft. As Batman leaves, Robin expresses his dismay that he won’t be able to “whip up a storm of my own against that Sultan of Storms”.

-Batman, in the hopes of luring Weather Wizard out of hiding, decides to steal his own Rajah Ruby. It’s the largest and most perfect ruby in the world, and his father, Dr. Thomas Wayne, bought it on a trip to India. His plan works. The next day, the “theft” attracts the police, and the police activity alerts the Weather Wizard, who follows the trail left by Batman to the cave where the ruby is hidden.

-Batman trails him, but Mark isn’t impressed. “You haven’t a chance of stopping me from getting away with the Rajah Ruby! If you were the Flash, I might be more concerned!....See how easily I handle you? You just aren’t Flash-y enough to catch me!” We get it, Mark. Batman isn’t nearly as cool as your archenemy.

-Unfortunately for him, Batman is a much better hand-to-hand combatant than he is, and gives the Wizard a few solid punches. The Wizard doesn’t handle them very well, both because the Flash of this era rarely threw punches and because Mark is a skinny beanpole.

-However, the Wizard manages to regain the upper hand by using his Weather Stick (this was what the Weather Wand was called back in the 60s) to create a thick ice wall in front of Batman, which knocks the Caped Crusader unconscious. “Ha! Ha! See what I mean, Batsy Boy? You can never overcome me! Only the Flash is an expert at that, as I’ve said all along!” WE GET IT, MARK. The Flash is more challenging to fight than Batman. Also, Batsy Boy? Really?

-When Batman comes to, he finds himself in a block of ice. Wizard tells him that the ice is made of special chemicals that will melt in two hours. (This seems like it shouldn’t be something he can do, but whatever.) If Batman doesn’t try to escape, he will survive the experience. “This tussle with you is good practice for me! It keeps me keyed up for my next meeting with the Flash!” SERIOUSLY, MARDON. WE DO GET IT. YOU CAN STOP MENTIONING THE FLASH NOW. Also, Weather Wizard somehow knows that Batman can read lips.

-Weather Wizard goes to commit his third crime, but then becomes suspicious of how easily he defeated Batman. “Batman is noted for using his wits--and being a tricky guy”. As a result, he examines the ruby (with his Weather Stick) and discovers it’s been coated with chemicals that will allow it to be traced with the use of infrared light. “Neat, neat!” Somehow Mark knows how to solve this problem, though. “Yessiree--this session with Batman is really sharpening my wits for a future encounter with the Flash, all right!” I think Mark talks more about the Flash in this issue than he does in the issues where he actually fights the Flash.

-Batman manages to escape the block of ice ahead of schedule by using the heel of his boot to create friction. The chemical in the ice absorbs the friction and causes the ice to melt faster than normally, allowing him to escape just before the oxygen runs out.

-Batman follows the infrared trail, thinking he’ll find the ruby and the Weather Wizard, but finds a note from the Weather Wizard instead (written entirely in cursive, incidentally). He says that he put the chemical from the ruby onto the note and boasts that Batman won’t be able to stop his third crime because he doesn’t know where it will happen.

-Batman uses his radio to call someone (the comic doesn’t reveal who at this point, but it’s Robin), and then we cut to the Mayan wing of one of Gotham’s museums, where the Wizard is stealing a small figurine. Batman arrives at the museum, stating that “a little bird” told him where the Wizard would be, and the two fight. The Wizard shoots a blizzard at him, but Batman slides into him, knocking him off his feet. Wizard then whips up a flash flood (somehow), but Batman uses his Bat-Rope to lasso a statue. The Weather Wizard is about to knock the statue over with lightning...but before he can, it gets knocked over on him, allowing Batman to punch the Wizard out and capture him.

-The issue ends with the reveal that Batman had arranged for Robin to “follow you (the Wizard) in the car from the sea cave and stay on your trail no matter what happened to me! When I found the note you doctored, I contacted him on my two-way radio transmitter and he told me where you were!” It’s just too bad that the issue didn’t set this up particularly well. Robin’s involvement kind of feels like it came out of nowhere.

-Robin was also the one who caused the statue to fall over on Weather Wizard by kicking it over. “It was the kick in time that saved Batman!”

-This comic seems to establish that, when armed with the Weather Stick (Wand), the Weather Wizard will defeat Batman in a fight. While he really, really can’t take a punch, his ability to manipulate the weather gives him a distinct upper hand. He won their first fight and only lost the second because Robin got involved without his knowledge. It’s nice to see, as it lends credence to the idea that Flash’s villains are more powerful than Batman can handle without planning ahead and bringing backup. This only makes sense, considering the fact that they fight the Flash on a regular basis.

-Also, since the stolen goods were presumably returned, the only thing Mark succeeding in doing in this issue was ending a drought. I’m not sure he’s as good at this whole supervillain thing as he thinks he is. “IT WAS I WHO FILLED YOUR RESERVOIRS!” Actually, Mark’s dialogue in general is easily the best part of this comic. He manages to come across as simultaneously a competent villain and a total doofus.

This issue is a really fun Silver Age romp. It’s definitely worth a read.

#flash rogues #detective comics #batman #robin #weather wizard #dc comics

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simpingforthisonedeer · 3 years

Link

Chapter 8: Tempestuous I

SFW version here

Summary: Aika watches Julius become King; Julius goes to make his annual visit to the Swallowtail and shenanigans happen.

Notes: This chapter was actually supposed to be a lil over 10k words um 😳😳😳 but I cut it 60/40 so I'll post the next chapter next week for sure bc it's already finished. I made a lot of changes like taking away the assasination attempt that was supposed to happen this chapter. Also, there's one offhanded line that is NSFW but that's all for the chapter.

One of you have already read all 10k but don’t say anything okay? ;)))

@talpup here you go hehehe

@kray-dragon you said you wanted to read 👉👈

Aika felt light despite the exhaustion weighing her down as the excited murmur of the crowd surrounded her. It has been two days since the battle and Diamond Kingdom’s surrender, but she would give them a few months before starting a ruckus again. Nevertheless, the peace and relief that it brought to Clover Kingdom had the gathered crowd in high spirits, especially since they knew that Julius was the one who delivered the final blow.

The Grey Deers were especially rowdy near the front, no doubt ecstatic that their former Captain was now Wizard King. The ceremony was already done in private and this occasion was just to introduce the new Wizard King to the public so he may be welcomed.

She stood atop Clover castle’s outer walls with her associates as she spectated, while also keeping an eye out for any trouble.

Music played loudly to her right and the crowd grew excited as the seven new captains walked on stage.

Fuegoleon Vermillion for the Crimson Lions, Nozel Silva for the Silver Eagles, Jack the Ripper for the Green Mantises, Dorothy Unsworth for the Coral Peacocks, Charlotte Roselei for the Blue Roses, Gueldre Poizot for the Purple Orcas, and Jien Du for the Grey Deers.

It was truly a remarkable sight from a historical point of view because all the captains were replaced and all of them were around the same age, meaning that this trend would continue for a few more generations.

The crowd grew quiet in anticipation after all the Captains settled into their respective places on the stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” A disembodied voice exclaimed. “Put your hands together for our new Wizard King,” A handsome man wearing a voluminous cloak of deep red, shouldering a white, furred cape, adorned with medals and a cross emerged from the depths of Clover Castle.

“Julius Novachrono!”

The crowd exploded with approval as their cheers, screams and applause filled the air. The sudden noise startled Aika but thankfully, she barely had any mana after the battle so none accidentally escaped. She couldn’t see him clearly from where she was standing but she certainly noticed how he squared his shoulders as he cast his gaze across the sea of people.

Their voices seemed to soar high into the heavens and she couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Jayce was hollering his heart out next to her, screaming how he was Julius’ number one fan. He had been standing close to the former Captain when he eviscerated the enemy two days ago and had been starstruck ever since.

Ellie clapped politely as Evan let out a whistle or two. Aika would have clapped as well but she was leaning heavily against the edge of the wall, barely even able to stand up straight. She had already suffered the indignity of asking Jayce and Evan to help her walk as if she was some frail, old grandma. She would not also cause a commotion by trying to stand and then fall.

“And finally, please welcome your honorable king,” the announcer stumbled on the last few words. “Augustus Kira Clover the 13th!”

The applause was much more muted and they barely let out a cheer or two. Augustus looked outraged at the gathered crowd and opened his mouth to make his displeasure known but Julius quickly cleared his voice before their “honorable” king could and began his first speech as the Wizard King. Aika listened keenly, secretly reveling in his familiar voice. He spoke at length about hope, faith and love and ended his speech with a hopeful message that had everyone grinning and cheering once again.

Aika leaned back far enough so she could clap this time because she was blown away by the absolute natural way he commanded the stage and the crowd. He was made for this.

Then, the Grey Deers who were standing guard at the front split the sea of people so Julius could go step down to greet and interact with the citizens themselves. The crowd allowed the Magic Knights to create a human barrier for one moment as the new Wizard King planted his feet on level ground, before chaos ensued. People pried the barrier apart and the knights were powerless to use magic in such a cramped space.

Aika tensed for a moment, thinking there was going to be an attack but let out a surprised laugh when she realized the situation. Women threw themselves at Julius, nearly tearing his robes apart and Aika nearly fell backwards with laughter at the sight of him trying to dodge their kisses.

Evan, Jayce and Ellie shared a nervous look as they got ready to catch her if she was actually going to fall. They have never seen their boss so exuberant when she was sober in all the 6 years that they have known her. Aika caught their looks and quickly pursed her lips, an uncontrollable grin still spread across her face.

“Cheer up, you three. I can actually laugh now,” she said teasingly.

“We’ve noticed,” Evan murmured, sending a careful look at Jayce, silently begging him to think before he spoke.

“Yeah, you seem to be in a better mood. Are you and the Wizard King really fu—” Ellie smacked him upside the head before he could finish.

Too late.

Aika’s cheery disposition quickly dissipated.

“No, Jayce,” she said, her voice cold. “As far as everyone is concerned, nothing ever happened at all, understood?”

The crowd standing around on the wall with them started moving for the exits to make their way to the festivities in the plaza. Ellie looped her arm with Aika’s and Evan took her other arm so they could help her walk. She threw a disappointed look at Jayce and sighed. He flushed in embarrassment and rubbed his head apologetically.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where to, Miss?” Ellie asked as her grimoire fluttered open, throwing a deadpan look at Jayce.

“To my home in Hage, please,” she sighed again as she looked back at Julius among the crowd as he tried to fend them off. Aika turned away before the first pangs of jealousy and longing could hit her. It was just a silly crush.

A portal opened in front of them at her behest and they quickly stepped through it before the crowd could jostle them around. With Ellie’s spatial magic, she assisted Aika with errands, delivered messages, helped her travel around the world and sometimes even provided support in battle.

Aika sighed contentedly at the transition from the loud crowd to the peaceful noises of nature in the countryside. She felt old at this thought.

They quickly ushered her into the house and helped her sit in her armchair. She stretched out in her seat and groaned at the sore feeling sufusing through her limbs. Her backpack, which she nearly never took off, poked her uncomfortably in the back but she put up with it anyway.

Aika opened her eyes slightly and her three protégés were looking at her with various levels of concern. She let out an amused huff as she waved them off.

“This is normal. You three should be used to this by now.”

“I mean, you warned us,” Ellie began as she lightly scratched her white, coily hair. “But we have never seen you perform a spell that big so we didn’t know what to expect.”

“I suppose that is true,” Aika hummed before wincing as pain unexpectedly coursed through her body. Jayce urgently strode into the kitchen at this.

“I was initially doubtful if you could handle my spell, Miss,” Evan admitted as he looked down at his hands. “I was completely ready to let the spell loose even at the expense of our allies if it meant we could weaken or even defeat the enemy.”

“Evan.” He looked up at Aika’s unexpectedly strong tone. “I would never put you in a position where you have to make such difficult decisions.” She smiled reassuringly. “I have only asked you to perform the spell because I knew I could handle it. If there is anything that you can depend on in me, it’s that I know my limits. Please have more faith in me.”

He blinked slowly at her heartfelt words, before he smiled boyishly.

“But you’re still pretty weak from it,” he retorted uncharacteristically.

“It was worth it, was it not?” she quipped back, happy that her little speech didn’t sour his mood too much.

Jayce came back from the kitchen with a slightly wet towel and handed it to Aika with a concerned look.

“Here.”

“Jayce…” She shook her head at this gesture with a small smile. It was his way of apologizing for his words earlier. “It is alright. You don’t have to worry too much.”

“Heh,” he carded his fingers through his hair. “If you say so, boss.”

“I have a new assignment for you guys,” Aika quickly began when she noticed Ellie’s mischievous smile. If she started teasing him, an argument was sure to erupt.

They turned to her attentively.

“I have noticed residues of forbidden magic in the abandoned cottage near the church here. It isn’t anything urgent and I’d like for you three to enjoy the festivities in the capital, so take the day off and in a day or two, I’d like for you three to report on your findings, alright?” Aika would have joined them but she was too weak to move in her state so she’ll take a well-deserved break for today. She eyed the gift bag by the entryway. She put together a few gifts for Julius, hoping to give to him today as a sort of welcome but she lacked the energy to move so it would have to be at another date.

She needed to get a lot of work done. She had to clean out both this house and the Wizard King’s study, where she spent most of the time working, so Julius could use it instead. Master Raymond wasn’t the reading type so he leased it to her for free and she enjoyed that space and she had a feeling Julius would too. Speaking of the headquarters,

“Don’t forget that you also have your day jobs at the headquarters, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!” They saluted her eagerly.

Aika nodded proudly. She was slowly introducing them to working in environments immersed in forbidden magic so they could take on bigger field assignments in the future. They were still young, only in their early twenties, so she should be careful about how such magic would affect their mental development, seeing as it completely fucked up hers. She would like to think she was fine, but she really wasn’t.

They bid her goodbye with their bright smiles, exuding youth in every way Aika wished she could feel at the moment. Though she stopped aging properly at twenty-five, maybe twenty-six years, weg magic was exhausting and she felt like she had been living longer than she should. It was probably because she hadn’t properly slept in over a decade and a half.

Aika laid the cold towel across her nape with a sigh, though the sensory overload from the pain made everything, including the texture of the towel, seem unpleasant. She shrugged one strap off of her shoulder so she could push the backpack aside and the rune on her forehead began to itch lightly—

Wait a minute, she sat up straight.

There was a Swallowtail filled with her magic in the woods behind the church. Wait. There were also mini-Swallowtails in her backpack right now. She could recover her magic faster this way. In her excitement, Aika nearly forgot she couldn’t use the Swallowtails inside her loft because they power various magic stones for heat, light, water, ventilation, preservation and some miscellaneous experiments.

Aika leaned back and groaned.

This meant that she must get to the big Swallowtail herself. She could ask Ellie for help but none of them except maybe Julius and herself know about the Swallowtail and they most certainly don’t know about her Time Magic. Most people thought Aika was a weak water mage who was physically strong, used forbidden magic to make up for her shortcomings, and could use a sword well.

She needed to keep her real attribute a secret because states with more sinister plans have hunted her in the past. So much so that they even threatened to destroy their own allies. That part of history was rewritten by Arthur. He stopped a war and changed everyone’s memories and in exchange, he got Holly.

She buried the memories once more as she locked her joints and stood up carefully. No point in dwelling on things she couldn’t change.

There was an old broom in the closet that she could use to get to the Swallowtail. She walked carefully, leaning on the furniture along the way. Aika stifled any groans and put her weight on the wall next to the closet door and opened it. She paused.

There were bloodstains everywhere.

It must have been from when Arthur was stabbed and bound in here.

Aika sighed as she added another task on her to-do list and picked up the broom next to creaky hinges of the closet door. She gently eased herself onto it and smiled in relief. It would be easier to move this way.

She quickly shot out of the house, relishing in the speed in contrast to her turtle-like pace the whole day and took the straightest path to the Swallowtail.

Julius extricated himself from the last of the women as Marx made a way for him to escape the crowd. He was hoping to maybe talk to them, maybe leave a more personal impression on them, but today was not his day apparently.

“Sir, are you alright?” Marx asked as they quickly strode into a side entrance to the castle. Julius chuckled lightly as he rubbed his lipstick-smeared cheek.

“Yes, of course, Marx. Just a little...violated.”

Marx smiled as he let out a huff. “I will be very honest with you, sir. I didn’t think that was going to work.”

“Well, perhaps I should organize a town hall so it would be more regulated.”

“I will see if your schedule allows it in the near future, sir.”

He smiled in gratitude as Marx shook his head.

“Alright, well, I got a message that the preparations for the banquet are nearly done and it would begin in an hour—”

“Marx, would you take care of that?” Julius interjected suddenly.

“Sir?”

“An hour is perfect. I have an important errand I must attend to and it won’t take me long…” He finished quietly, knowing he wouldn’t believe him.

“An errand today?” Marx asked, his voice raising up a notch. “An errand on one of the most important days of your life?”

His annual trip to the Swallowtail so he could deposit his magic just happened to fall on the day he became Wizard King. And a few minutes alone might also do him some good. The weight of what he had just accepted still hasn’t properly set in.

“Um, yes?”

“Julius!”

“It will only take me a few minutes!” He put his hands together pleadingly. “Please?”

Marx let out a heavy sigh as rubbed his temples. He just hoped he wouldn’t be as irresponsible as to miss the banquet entirely.

“Alright, fine. But you better not be looking at magic when I come looking for you!”

Julius grinned in reply.

“Of course! Thank you, Marx!”

In a blink, he quickly phased out and landed in the forest clearing where the ancient magic item was. The sudden change in environment and the heavy weight of the robes grounded him to his current situation.

It was utterly surreal. He was Wizard King.

Julius let out a hysterical laugh as he rested his head against the Swallowtail.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as his fingers clawed at the cool, metal surface. He could finally help Clover Kingdom for the better. There were so many things he could do, so many things he could change.

Starting off with the Magic Knights. Incentivize and reward good behavior, send more knights to patrols realms where they aren’t accustomed to so they learn to like and protect people below their class, even involve himself in policy as Aika had suggested and think about education. The next generation are the future after all.

His mind was racing with ideas but he took calming breaths before he completely lost his cool. He still had a banquet to attend and nobles to pander to.

He looked intently at the giant, six-pointed star on the Swallowtail as he gathered his thoughts. He should finish his business soon. The sooner he put his mana in, the sooner he could recover it. He slowly started pouring his mana into the ball. He also needed to make sure he had enough left to teleport back.

Julius turned as he felt a presence moving towards him at high speeds. He stopped as he squinted at the figure on a broom, their form silhouetted by the Sun behind them.

His vision grew blurry momentarily as he prepared to transform. It would be a strange and suspicious sight to see the new Wizard King in the Boonies. But before he could do anything, the mysterious person landed in the clearing at an unnatural speed.

Julius’ eyes widened when he realized who it was.

“Aika?”

When Aika landed near the Swallowtail, she couldn’t believe who it was. She scrambled off of her broom and used it like a staff to lean on.

She could clearly see all of Julius now, no longer a bright, robed figure in the distance.

And my god was he a sight to behold.

His medals shone in the sun and his red, velvet cloak made him look like the king he was. When her eyes met his, they glinted gold for a moment and she had to remind herself to breathe.

Though, the effect was slightly dampened by the fact that he was covered in lipstick marks.

“Aika?” he asked disbelievingly. She brought three fingers to her chest in a salute as she tamped down any tremors, whether it was because of her fatigue or emotions.

“Your Highness,” she intoned as she bowed her head. That’s it. He was only the Wizard King to her. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Oh,” he exhaled in amusement. “There’s no need for that. We are way past that. Please,” he said reassuringly. “Call me ‘Julius.’”

Aika’s face gingerly lit up into a grin. The expression felt strange on her face but she couldn’t help it. She was simply glad that they weren’t going to be awkward. She clutched her broom tighter before she could fall as she spoke.

“Well then, congratulations on becoming Wizard King, Julius,” she walked sluggishly towards the Swallowtail, still facing him. “How do you feel?”

His jaw fell slightly, momentarily surprised by her nonchalance. Most people’s attitude changed in the few moments he walked in his Wizard King attire. Even Marx, whom he was most familiar with, grew more serious. But he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He seemed to be “just Julius” to her no matter how he was. His chest tightened at the thought. It was a strange sensation.

Julius rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin as he relaxed. There was no need for him to be officious with her after all had been said and done.

“Well, the feeling hasn’t quite set it,” he began. “But, I do suddenly feel the urge to do something, change something,” he confessed, his eyes shining with determination. After their night of shared vulnerability, no matter how sourly it had ended, it felt natural to be himself with her.

He couldn’t help but grin when she looked away with a secretive smile. He knew he still had a chance. He simply needed to go slow this time.

“That’s good. I’m eager to see what kind of revolution you would raise.”

Julius had plans to make connections at the banquet and he had already had a draft of an awards system somewhere in his head. But for now, it was only them in this clearing. He could be himself. He pressed a finger to his lips and leaned forward as if to share a secret.

“Shh, don’t tell anyone though,” he said playfully. “It’s a secret.”

Aika giggled despite herself.

“I suppose you are going to change the kingdom before the nobles even realize.”

“Exactly! You—” He quickly caught her as she stumbled. “Get it…” he finished quietly, concern strewn across his face.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Julius asked as he looked over her. She was beginning to sweat as she took shallow breaths. “Are you alright?”

Aika exhaled sharply when pain shot up her back.

“I’m fine,” she lied, waving him off as her jaw clenched. It didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“No, you are not,” he hissed.

“Fine, I’m not,” she snapped back. “Just help me get close to the Swallowtail.” She stiffened when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Julius noticed and silently apologized as he guided her delicately.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

She sighed as she pressed herself against the magic device. There is no harm in telling him and he would need to know just in case he ever needed for her to do a forbidden spell or a ritual.

“I’m still weak from the spell on Saturday.” She brought the mana in the device carefully up to the surface and she felt her strength returning to her, bit-by-bit.

“Spell?” His brows furrowed. “What spell?”

“Remember the giant, blue fireball?” His eyes widened. She quickly clarified before he could think it was her who summoned fire. “Evan was the one who conjured up the fireball, not me. But he can’t control the spell so I had to use weg magic to take control of the spell and guide it towards the enemy while holding them in place.”

Julius looked at her with virtual stars in his eyes.

“So that Mana Zone spell was yours? And you guided that Sun in the sky?”

Aika grew bashful at the admiration in his tone.

“Ah, well, I had a lot of practice for Mana Zone and it wasn’t that big. I’ve seen bigger fireball spells,” she murmured as she bit her lip.

“Bigger—” He took a double take as the twinkle in his eyes shone brighter. “Where!? I want to see a bigger fireball!”

She laughed at the cute expression on his face.

“I’ll show you sometime,” she promised as she continued to fill up her mana reserves. Aika was silently glad her plan worked. She was no longer sore all over, no doubt the life essence of her mana healing her, and she could stand unsupported.

Julius looked curiously between her hand and the Swallowtail.

“But why do you seem to be in pain? Fatigue is common for mana exhaustion but I have never heard of pain,” he remarked as he laid his own hand next to her, slowly sending out his magic into it. It was what he originally came here for after all.

She sighed heavily. Just thinking about it exhausted her.

“It is one of the side effects of using large amounts of corrupted magic. It is quite harmful to a human body.” Aika explained the long list of effects and how incapacitated it leaves her. “It’s quite painful but it’s incredibly useful so it has its pros and cons.”

She felt flattered by the worry on his face.

“Are there any long-term effects?”

“No, not that—” Well, there was the negative mana affecting everyone around her but it was only because of one ritual years ago. Using more negative magic hadn’t exasperated it thankfully. “Not that I’m aware of, no.”

Julius touched his chin thoughtfully as she continued.

“But please don’t hesitate to ask me to do any spells or rituals for the sake of the kingdom,” she laughed wryly. “I am the only person who could do them after all.”

“Ah, no, no. If it affects you this badly, I would never even think of asking you,” he assured her with a shining smile.

Aika fought off a grin. That...was really kind of him. Her Uncle was quick to jump on the offer and she was glad to be of use to help this kingdom but the concern…Her heart beat quickly at the thought.

No!

She mentally shook her head. He should be more concerned about the kingdom not her! What if she could help where no one could?

“Please don’t think of me, think of the kingdom. If I could help, then I would. Whether you accept my help or not is an entirely different matter.”

Due to being particularly sensitive to magic at the moment because of the newly acquired mana, she felt a stab of Julius’ magic hit her.

“And besides, I like using it,” she whispered, the real truth unexpectedly slipping out.

What. Did he just—

She quickly masked her shock and met his gaze. He surprisingly didn’t seem disgusted or judgemental at her confession. He just seemed lost in thought as he stared back at her.

“I see,” he simply uttered, his tone giving away nothing.

Usually, any other person’s first instinct would be to get mad at forcing the truth out of them, but Aika, who was quite adept at using backhanded tactics, was very impressed and curious. How on Earth could he use such magic? It seemed like a part of his natural attribute. He truly had a limitless magic potential. He could use Time Magic but that didn’t stop him from using some form of spatial and transformation magic, but also a hidden magic spell perhaps that could induce the truth out of somebody. And here she was, thinking he was a straight-laced, goody two-shoes Wizard King.

But, no real King is truly virtuous.

She cleared her throat before a giddy smile could slip through. It would have been exhausting to work with someone with a strict moral compass. Though, she shouldn’t be surprised after seeing him on the battlefield. He was terrifying.

“Well, I suppose you did help us gain a massive advantage with your help on the battlefield the other day. If you hadn’t wiped out the Diamond army, taking on both Spade and Diamond would have been disastrous for our troops.”

Aika hummed in agreement and decided to say nothing. Being complimented by anyone other than her Uncle was strange. No one could recognize her efforts because the Amulet of Ignorance ensured it and she preferred it that way.

A question struck her when she realized where they were.

“Julius?”

He looked at her questioningly.

“Why are you here in the first place? Don’t you have a banquet to attend?”

He grinned widely as he lifted his palm off of the Swallowtail.

“The banquet is in about half an hour and I’ve come to make my annual trip to deposit some magic in the Swallowtail. You know, for emergencies such as yours,” he winked slyly.

Aika nodded in understanding, rolling her eyes at his jibe. She had also left some of her magic in there for emergencies.

“Well, you should clean up before going to the banquet then,” she said, looking pointedly at the ridiculous lipstick dotting his face. She threw her leg over the broom, ready to leave.

“Wait!” He quickly stopped her, an arm reaching out. “Could I drop you off at your place? You might still be tired.”

“Yes,” she blurted out. She was going to be her own ruin. Why was she doing this to herself?

“Great!” He placed a hand on her shoulder and they immediately found themselves in Aika’s living room.

“May I use the bathroom to wash my face?” Julius asked innocently. Oh, he was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he?

“That lipstick won’t come off with water. Most lipsticks used by women in the Noble Realm are magicked to stick on whatever surface they are applied on and the kind they used was the type of lipstick used to ‘mark people,’” she explained as she walked away. “I’ll go get some wipes for you.” He also seemed determined to stick around and he wasn’t even hiding it. Aika sighed internally. She needed to keep him at an arm's length. Even she cannot resist temptation.

Lost in her thoughts, she walked back to where Julius was, carrying a few wet wipes specifically made to wipe off makeup. Before she could realize what she was doing, she placed a wipe on his cheek as she angled his face to the side with her other hand.

The moment her bare hand touched his chin, Aika began to panic, though none showed on her face. In her mind, she began swearing in all the languages she knew, putting even the most seasoned sailors to shame. She was so used to tending to people that she completely forgot her determination to avoid these kinds of situations at all costs so her crush could go away, but, nooo.

And once she did something, she always stuck through. There was no backing out now.

Aika began wiping his face without hesitation but that didn’t stop her from berating herself.

Oh my fucking god. You are a fool, a whole clown, Aika. You should just quit your life, change your name and join your ex-fiance’s circus as a clown. It would fit you very well. Start practicing your honking now, you numbnut.

Wait, did he react? Wait, I don’t want to know. Oh, shit. I definitely want to know. No, you don’t. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook.

She looked.

Julius was staring right into her very soul from underneath his lashes.

She quickly averted her eyes, a blush rising to her face as her heart seemed determined to break free from her ribcage. She regulated her breaths and willed them to be normal. Thankfully, she had a lot of practice.

But then, he ducked his head so she could have better access and innocuously pressed his cheek into her palm. To top it all off, he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

That’s it. Aika was dying. She was having a heart attack. She wanted to scream so badly. She could feel the room spin around her.

Why? Why did you lean in? Have you no shame? A woman wipes your face and you start making bedroom eyes at her? Oh my god ohmygodohmygod.

How she wished she had her amulet now. If she wore it for a while, everyone except a select few would forget she even existed.

Aika stared at his serene smile, his eyes still closed.

A frown crawled up her face. She started wiping faster, cradling his cheek with her hand while she wiped the few spots on his neck.

She refused to corrupt someone as sweet as him.

“What’s that face for?” Julius piped up, startling her. “Jealous?” he smirked.

Wow, you are completely shameless. Wait— Jealous?

“Oh, sure.” Aika rolled her eyes. “I’m jealous of the women who virtually attacked the Wizard King like a bunch of harpys, marking him with magic lipstick,” She leaned closer to his ear. “While I had his head between my legs.”

He turned away, blushing as he covered his mouth. Finally , he seemed flustered. He did not expect her to retort when she herself was panicking. Aika stepped away as she smirked, satisfied that there was no more lipstick nor that overconfident expression on his face.

“I’ll swing by your office tomorrow to drop some stuff off,” Aika called out as she walked away into the kitchen. Julius shook his head as he gathered himself and followed her. A blush still present on his face, he leaned against the doorframe as he watched Aika move around the kitchen. The very same kitchen where he was turned down.

“What stuff?”

He asked quietly as he buried the memories. Hopefully it wasn’t any kind of paperwork.

“Some stuff to help you as Wizard King and some other things I thought you might like.”

That peaked his interest.

“Oh? What kind of things?”

“Julius,” Aika turned to him, exasperated. “Don’t you have a banquet to get to?”

“You want to get rid of me already?” He asked cheekily, very reminiscent of that day.

“No, but I’m sure you would enjoy a good surprise as much as the next person and I really think you should go.” Her face softened. “Don’t you think it’s strange enough that you stuck around this long?” she asked quietly.

He fiddled with the edge of his sleeve.

“Maybe,” he looked up at her. “But it’s only so I could just be myself before I have to go deal with nobles,” he smiled wryly. “I find politics rather boring, you see. I‘m putting it off as much as possible.”

“Diplomacy is what gets things done in your position,” Aika imparted as she turned back around to arrange the dishes in the cabinet. Her aunt and uncle will move in tonight so she has to get everything in order.

If Julius finds politics boring, then he may not be as effective. She quickly needed to rid him of that mindset. It would be hard to implement changes if he wasn’t persuasive or have any positive connections with the higher-ups.

“If you find it boring, I suggest you talk about your ideas and plans and observe who are open and who are not. You are quite impassioned about the things you like but I also suggest you keep the topics relevant,” she added lightly as she threw a smile over her shoulder. “Your ideas may also come off naive to the wrong people and could turn away many supporters but you have to stand your ground. Putting a neutral front may seem appealing but it’s only useful for maintaining the status quo,” she asserted as she looked Julius in the eye. “Not for a silent revolution.”

He gaped at her. Master Raymond made it sound as if her unsolicited advice was useless. He actually planned to stay neutral as she predicted but like she said, it wouldn’t get things done. How was she experienced in such things?

“I-I’ll try,” he finally got out. “Were you a ruler in your past life or something?” He asked jokingly. Aika laughed as she turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. She leaned back against the counter with a smirk as she asked,

“Julius, who do you think I am?”

He was slightly thrown off by the question.

“Uh, Aika Tolliver, Time Mage, Spymaster, and advisor to the 27th Wizard King?”

“Also the CEO of an international company,” she added.

Julius took a double take.

“What?!”

She palmed her face.

“So, Master Raymond didn’t tell you?”

“No?”

“God,” she groaned. “I’ll explain more later but I may not hold any political dominion but we are both C-Level executives and some of our tasks are quite similar even if our institutions are different. I am able to give you solid advice on such matters without being an actual ruler.” Aika fiddled with her pocket watch. “You should go.” She said as she guided him through the door and back into the living room. “It’s almost time for the banquet!”

He stumbled as he processed her words. Julius quickly laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her as he looked at her, dazed.

“Wait, so why do you insist on working for the Wizard King?”

Aika tamped down her irritation. There was no reason to get upset. He hasn’t fully transitioned into his duties and information he should be aware of about his staff.

She took a calming breath.

“Because, there are multiple prophecies that state that this continent would spell the end of the world. Everyone around the world know something is going to happen on this continent,” she said coolly. “No one outside are acquainted with the inner workings nor do they like this region. There are contingencies to contain the ‘end of the world’ but no efforts to actually stop it. Me being me, decided to volunteer to be the hero and you ,” she pointed a finger at Julius “are going to help whether you like it or not, understood?”

He blinked as a smile crawled up his face which quickly grew into a grin. That sounded quite exciting! Maybe his tenure as Wizard King may not be entirely boring with a mission like that!

“Y-Yes ma’am!” He let out a chuckle. “I hope you realize I’m only going to pester you with more questions when I see you next time.”

Maybe I do want you to come back and pester me, A voice in her head piped up intrusively.

“Yes, I’m aware,” she said rolling her eyes. “Now go!”

Julius saluted her with a mischievous grin and vanished.

Aika stood staring at the empty space where he was before pressing her head against the wall next to her with a deep sigh.

Why did he have to be at the Swallowtail right when I needed to? Why the fuck did I touch his face? And did he have to be obvious with his advances so much? What did he mean “just be himself?” She clenched her fist. The only way she could avoid overthinking was to throw herself into work.

She composed herself and held her head high. There was no time to dwell on such things. She examined her living room as she brought her to-do list to the front of her mind. She had a lot of things to clean, organize and pack.

Aika rolled up her sleeves and tied her hair back.

Time to get to work.

Notes: aiaiai that was a handful Julius figures out why Aika is avoiding him next chapter and you guys get one letter to figure out what he is LMAOOOOOO

#julius novachrono #oc: Aika Tolliver #marx francois #julius novachrono x oc #julius novachrono x reader #black clover #black clover fanfiction #demons run fic stuff #chapter 8

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