#i do not trust the other two series to do that

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 3)

A/N: i know it took me way longer than it should have, but at last im here with the next part and that's what matters, right? thank you for the support on the prev parts, hope you'll enjoy this just as much!

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Meetings never really excited Harry, but lately, they have been his favorite along with studio sessions. Because these were the times he always got to see Y/N. 

Today he is going in with her favorite cookies in his bag that he picked up on his way, taking a detour just to drop by that one place she loves the most. It’s been a recurring thing for Harry, picking up a cup of coffee for her, buying her favorite snacks for their sessions or surprising her with lunch from that taco place she adores so much. He’s been doing practically anything to get a smile on her face because he feels like that’s the only thing he is destined to do. 

He’s been ignoring the fact that her time working on the project ends in two weeks, according to the contract. The only chance to stretch it longer if the required songs are not finished, but they are all practically done at this point. Harry tries his best not to think of what it will be like when he doesn’t get to see her as often as he does now. 

The meeting was scheduled only yesterday, so Harry has no idea what it is about, but it doesn’t really matter, they are supposed to record afterwards, so he only cares about spending more time with Y/N. 

However, the smile fades when he walks into the room and doesn’t see her. It’s odd, she is usually there before him, but now it’s just a couple of the studio engineers, Niall, Liam and Blake, the kind of weird manager from Modest who’s been working with them since they started recording for Midnight Memories. Harry has been getting these eerie vibes from him, but he just can’t put his finger on it, so he’s been sucking it up and ignoring it. He gave no reason not to be trusted so far. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Harry greets everyone walking into the room. 

“Ah, Harry! You’re here!” Blake smiles and they shake hands before Harry settles in a chair. “I was just telling the boys what this meeting is about. Good news, you are set for another album after Midnight Memories is released!”

It’s no surprise, to be honest. One album after the other, the pace has been just like that for a while. 

“Great,” he nods. “Do we know who we’re gonna work with?”

Blake then hands him a paper with a list of names and some other details. Harry runs over the names, looking for a particular one, but it’s not there.

“What about Y/N?” he asks.

“Ah, I wanted to tell you guys. She got another project kind of last minute, so she is done with the album for now and won’t be able to join for the next one, it seems like,” Blake explains casually and it doesn’t stand out to anyone else either, but it hits Harry in the chest pretty hard.

She is done with the album? Why didn’t she say anything? They talked on the phone just two days ago, why didn’t she even mention it?

And why isn’t she gonna work on the next album? Harry doubts she is booked that far ahead, she is just getting recognized in the industry and she told him herself she is living from one project to the other, works on the next album won’t start at least until they start touring Midnight Memories.

It’s not adding up, but on the other hand… Harry has no right to question her. Even despite how close he’s been getting to her, they are still just… coworkers. Friends. 

But nothing more. 

“Alright, now that we are talking about the next album, I have a little sneak peek of a song that could be a big hit!” Blake seems enthusiastic as he opens his laptop and then soon a demo starts playing, but Harry can’t really focus, he is too stuck on the fact that he has no more time left with Y/N. He even pulls out his phone, ready to text her and ask her how all of this happened, but then talks himself down. When he finally starts to listen to the song, it sounds familiar at first, but there are no lyrics and Harry often finds random songs familiar lately, because he just hears so many new melodies on a daily basis, they tend to blend together. 

“You like it?” Blake asks him and Harry just nods.

“Yeah. What is it called?”

Blake smiles confidently as he shuts the laptop down.

“Night Changes.”

The weather is finally good enough for grilling and the rowland household would take an opportunity anytime for that. Filling up their backyard with the people they love the most and feeding them burgers, hotdogs or basically anything Mitch is able to throw onto the grill. They usually have a gathering like this every month if their schedule and the weather allows. 

Now it’s finally the first official grill party of the year. 

Harry is sat outside by one of the tables, his plate is empty by now, but he knows he’ll get another round at one point. Cards are scattered on the tabletop, along with glasses of lemonade and beer, the kids are playing in the back somewhere by the treehouse, everything feels and looks idyllic.

For the past about two hours Harry couldn’t stop looking for Y/N. Stealing glances when she was talking to Sarah or playing with the kids, trying not to ogle her too obviously when she was laughing at something at the other table. He wanted to walk up to her a thousand times already, but he is trying to act cool and figure out how to act when there are other people around. 

It’s an unknown territory for sure. 

When Harry sees her walking towards the house he just can’t stay put. Excusing himself from the group he tries his best not to look suspicious as he follows her inside. Once the sliding door is closed behind him he quickens his steps down the hallway towards the bathroom, guessing she went there, but as he is approaching the door he notices it’s closed.

Should he try his luck and open it? Or maybe knock? Or…

Suddenly, the lock rattles and the door moves the tiniest bit, light coming through the gap. His heart skips a beat as he leaps forward and pushes the door open more so he can step inside.

And there she is, standing by the sink, checking herself out in the mirror when Harry walks in and closes the door behind him. Then slowly, she turns her gaze to him, for the first time today and for a moment Harry thinks she might tell him to fuck off and get out, but when he sees her lips part, he knows what she wants.

Him.

They collide fast, their usual hunger for each other taking over in a heartbeat. Demanding kisses, rough touches, they both know they should be in a hurry, Harry can’t even remember if he locked the door, it would be rather awkward if someone walked in on them.

Especially because no one knows about them, or whatever is going on between them. 

It’s been over a week since the dinner party that ended up with the most confusing but also mind-blowingly amazing sex they have ever had. When it was over Harry simply left and kept to what she said, that they would not talk about it and that’s exactly what happened. They never talked about it, but it happened again. 

Twice since then. 

And now they are going at it again. 

“Fuck,” Harry growls into her mouth when she reaches into his pants with quick but confident moves, because it’s not the first time she is doing it and he can only hope it’s not the last either. 

“Quickly,” she pants and he just nods, bunching up her dress and tugging her underwear down. It’s no surprise he is already hard, following her inside was like a foreplay to him, the secrecy, the chance that she might tell him to fuck off, his pulse has been rising before he stepped into the bathroom. 

They moan together when he thrusts into her, but then he gets back to kissing her to keep their voice down as he starts moving. Usually, they don’t talk when they are having sex, but Harry feels like changing that up, trying out how she reacts to something different. 

“You knew I would come after you, huh?” he pants against her lips.

“I did,” she breathes out, one arm curled around his neck, her other hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep her balance. 

“You thought about me fucking you all day?”

To that, she doesn’t answer and Harry almost regrets opening his mouth, but then she looks at him and nods.

“I did,” she repeats herself and even cracks a smile before pulling him closer to kiss him hard. And just like that, a tightening but warm feeling spreads in his chest. 

They don’t need much time, Harry is the first to come and she follows soon right after. Her head falls against his chest , rising and falling with his deep breaths and he tries to fight the urge, but then gives in and bringing up a hand he runs his fingers through her hair. Part of him fears this move might be too intimate for her and that she’ll shake him off of her any moment, but it never happens and Harry enjoys it, probably way more than he should. 

They clean themselves up and soon it’s just the sparkle in their eyes that proves what they just did. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks, fixing her makeup in the mirror. 

“Are you asking me out or something?” Harry cheekily asks and she just smacks his chest playfully.

“I have some stuff I’ve been working on that I want to show you.”

Harry’s pulse fastens again. This is just like it was before, when it was just the two of them, sharing the songs they were working on. 

“I would love that,” he smiles at her, watching her walk to the door. 

“Alright. I’ll text you then.”

Y/N walks out and Harry knows they are back to not talking and for a second he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep going like this. 

When he walks out he is still deep in his thoughts, but then when he reaches the kitchen he comes to a halt, seeing Mitch by the kitchen island, sipping on some lemonade, a knowing look on his face.

“Hey man,” Harry clears his throat and joins him instead of walking outside.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Want to share why I just saw Y/N coming from the same direction as you just did?”

“Uh… you know, we just…”

Harry can’t quite find the right words, especially because he doesn’t like and can’t really lie to Mitch, but he also wants to keep the no talking rule. Mitch stares back at him with a blank face for a second, but then his eyes go wide.

“No way.”

“What?” Harry laughs.

“For real?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and… you and Y/N?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but that’s quite the answer to Mitch.

“Oh my God, how long has this been going on?”

“Keep it down!” He hushes his friend. “It’s… it’s nothing official or anything.”

“But it is something, right? What is it?”

Harry once again just stays silent.

“You two are having sex?” More silence. “Oh my God! Did you just do it in the bathroom?!”

“Shh!” Harry tries to shush him again, but he also can’t hold back his smile, thinking about what just took place in that bathroom. 

“Harry, what the hell! When… How did that happen? You know what? I don’t want to know about that,” Mitch changes his mind quickly, making Harry laugh. “But like… what is it?”

“I told you, it’s nothing o–”

“No, I mean… what do you want it to be?”

Harry sighs as he turns so he can look out at the backyard through the sliding door. And there she is, with a glass in her hand as she is talking to Sarah, laughing at something and Harry wishes he knew what it was. 

“I just… I like her. A lot.”

“But you two had been hating each other passionately, what happened to that?”

“I think we took the passionately part and turned it into something else,” Harry smirks cheekily, his eyes still glued to her figure outside. 

“Oh my God, you are so gone for her,” Mitch breathes out, shaking his head. “You’re falling for her!”

Harry turns back to Mitch and hesitates before speaking up.

“I already fell for her. When we worked together years ago. But then she basically disappeared and when we met again, she acted like I was her mortal enemy,” Harry chuckles. Calling himself the enemy sounds ridiculous, but it’s the most fitting he could say. “And now…” he hums, but doesn’t finish his thought out loud.

“And now you’re falling for her again?”

“I might be,” he nods.

The Sun has set, but the party's still going. Well, it’s not raging, some of the people who came with kids have left and Scout has been put down by Mitch as well, but a handful of guests are still out on the terrace, playing card games and sharing stories. 

Y/N sits right across from Harry and he has noticed the change. She is losing her cold act towards him, slowly but surely. They can finally talk and joke around almost like back in the days. Harry however doesn’t want to let himself go deeper than he should, he knows he is on an unstable field with her and he feels like it all could snap any moment, but…

It feels so amazing.

Making her laugh, sharing knowing looks, teasing each other like old friends, Harry missed being like this. 

When he notices that she’s probably cold his first thought is to offer his hoodie, but he is quick to stop himself, he’s sure it might be too much at once so he instead just asks around who needs a blanket as he is heading inside anyway so he can easily grab a few. 

But then as the night comes to an end, he still decides to try and dance around the unsaid boundaries.

“Hey, I just ordered a car, added your address as well.” Harry tells her when he sees her open the Uber app on her phone.

“Ah, no need, I can just–”

“Already ordered it,” he insists, hoping she’ll accept it and luckily, it seems like she is not in the mood to argue. 

The car ride is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. She is on her phone, reading what seems like emails to Harry and he notices the change in her instantly.

“Everything alright?”

She looks up with a frown and then sighs, locking her phone. 

“Just work. I have this annoying assistant, called Daryl up in my ass on another project, he is trying to get me to give way more than I’m obligated to. I don’t even know who his boss is, the damn guy is like a mystery for some reason.”

“Like, they want more music from you?”

“Yes,” she nods. “They want to listen to stuff I’m working on in case something fits the album, but I’ve already delivered what I was paid for.”

Although he is eager to know more, to offer his help, he stays silent, staying within the boundaries this time, not pushing his luck even more. It’s a miracle itself that she even said this much about anything personal. 

“So tomorrow?” Y/N asks when the car stops in front of her house. Harry looks at her and for a moment, all he can think about is the last time they were here like this. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” he manages to speak up, snapping out of his memories.

“I’ll text you. Bye then,” she nods before climbing out of the car and heading towards her front door. Harry watches her for a bit before he tells the driver to leave. 

She still hasn’t texted him. It’s four in the afternoon and he hasn’t heard of her since she got dropped off last night. 

He was up early, went for a run, because he definitely needed to put his extra energy into something instead of continuously checking his phone, hoping for a text to pop up. Then he grabbed himself a bagel on the way back, brewed a coffee when he got home and had his breakfast while staring at his phone like a sore loser. 

He took that damn phone everywhere he went. Literally everywhere. But the hours passed by and he got no sign and at first he just thought she got busy with something, but by the time he was done with lunch, it turned into a worry. 

She was as punctual as one could get and she would have already texted him by now, even if it was just about that she is running late with whatever she was doing. A decent session lasts at least three or four hours and she is not one to pull an allnighter.

He has kept ordering himself to be patient all day, but now he lost the last bits of his bearing. At last he decides a text is fine, she can answer whenever it’s convenient. 

HARRY: Hey, are we still up for a sesh? 

He keeps the conversation open and watches his message sit there, its status staying delivered for what feels like forever. Then, about twenty minutes later, it changes to read and the three dots start dancing at the bottom of the screen as Harry’s heart threatens to jump right out of his chest. He knows he is acting ridiculously, but he pushes the thought to the back of his head for now. 

The dots then disappear, but no message arrives. A minute goes by and they reappear and this time a gray bubble follows.

Y/N: I got a bit of a situation on my hands rn.

Then a photo pops up of her house with two police cars parked at the front and Harry’s stomach drops.

HARRY: I’m going over.

He sends the message before he could even think it through and he is already out the door by the time she reads his reply. 

When he arrives one of the police cars is still there and Y/N is out front, talking to an officer. She is lacking her usual on-spot style, wearing a baggy sweat set, her hair in a state of mess he has never seen before, but even despite the worried expression on her face, she looks annoyingly beautiful. 

She spots him as he gets out of his car, crossing the lawn with a slow jog.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, on the verge of losing his marbles if he doesn’t find out what happened immediately.

“Give me a minute,” she tells him, turning back to the officer. “Thank you for everything. I’ll let you know if I find anything that’s missing.”

“Take care, Miss. We’ll have a car patrol around the neighborhood every hour for the next 24 hours, though it’s unlikely they will come back.”

With a nod, the officer walks over to the car, gets in and they drive away.

“What the hell happened?” Harry asks when Y/N finally turns to him.

“Someone broke into my house,” she says and then just simply heads back inside. Harry jogs after her. 

“What? When?” 

Y/N is walking straight to her kitchen and Harry follows her, locking the front door behind him. 

“I went to a yoga class in the morning. When I came back, I noticed my lock was picked and the door was open.” 

Harry watches her rummage through a cabinet before grabbing a bottle of tequila along with two glasses. She shoots a questioning look to him, to which he just nods, though he is still lost, confused and kind of angry. She pours a generous amount into both glasses and then hands one over to Harry before chugging hers down faster than ever. 

“Did anything go missing?”

“Literally nothing,” she laughs bitterly. “Everything seems untouched and I just don’t understand it at all. Why would someone break in if they don’t take anything valuable?”

“Money? Jewelry? Everything is here?”

“Everything. I checked everything.”

Harry is now just as clueless as Y/N. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s also somehow even worse. Whoever broke in had a reason to, but it’s completely hidden for now. 

When she reaches for the bottle again he notices how much her hands are shaking. She is a nervous wreck. 

“Hey, you don’t want to lose your rationality right now,” Harry softly warns her as he grabs her hand and stops her from pouring another one. 

“I’m fucking terrified, Harry,” she admits, her voice shakes and so weak like never before. Harry’s heart breaks for her. “Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?”

“I have,” Harry answers without hesitation and that’s when she finally looks him in the eyes again. “I had a few stalkers throughout the years and attempted break-ins.”

And just like that, something changes in her. The last bits of the wall she so carefully built up between the two of them are destroyed and she lets him see her fully and so naked emotionally. Her lips tremble, tears dwell in her eyes and just as the first sob breaks out of her chest, he is pulling her into his embrace. 

For a second Harry thinks it might be just luck, that she is only opening up to him like this because he is the one who is physically here with her, but he then wipes this thought and just focuses on being the support she truly needs. 

He holds her tight as she cries into his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head until she calms down and regains control over her breathing. 

“Pack a bag for a few days, stay at mine for a bit, okay?” he softly says when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at him. She doesn’t try to put up a fight, just nods and lets him walk her up to her bedroom. 

He helps her pack, she grabs the clothes while Harry packs her laptop and chargers. Half an hour later they are getting into his car before heading over to Harry’s place. The car ride is silent and Harry doesn’t even try to talk her through it. He knows how important it is to let her find her own peace in this situation instead of trying to just temporarily divert her attention. 

It’s actually her first time at his place, so she is curiously examining the place when they finally arrive. Harry shows her around quickly and then they reach the bedrooms upstairs.

“Choose a bedroom, personally my favorite is that one,” he smiles softly, pointing at the one next to his own bedroom. She walks closer and peeks inside, then into his bedroom and he watches her patiently.

“Can I… sleep with you?”

Her request surprises him, but he would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t hoping for it. 

“Sure, of course,” he nods and gestures for her to walk inside. 

He sets down her bag to the ottoman at the end of his king sized bed while she looks around. Harry grabs a towel for her from the closet and hands it over to her.

“Take a shower, I’ll make tea for you, how does that sound?”

She just nods, holding the towel to her chest and he can’t believe how vulnerable she looks. The Y/N he’s known for the past few months is nothing like the woman standing in front of him right now. 

“Alright, then I’ll…” 

He clears his throat and then turns around to give her privacy, but he doesn’t even get to take a step before she grabs his hand and pulls him back. He opens his mouth to ask what else she needs, but he is met with her lips pressing against his, hard and needy and he wastes no time to return the kiss just as passionately. His arms curl around her tightly, like an armor, ready to protect her from anything and everything. 

They stumble into the bathroom and she pulls away, just enough so that she can start stripping out of her clothes, but Harry stops for a minute before things get too heated too fast.

“Wait, are you… Today was a lot, are you sure you… want to…?”

“I’m sure. I need this,” she nods and even though she appears just as vulnerable as before, there’s some kind of strong will mixed in her state now. Harry stares back at her, looking for any kind of sign that this might be a bad idea, but then she adds: “I need you.”

And Harry knows in that moment that he would give her anything in this world, because he fell for her again, but this time, it’s nothing like he has ever felt before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 9 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: phew! this took me five million years and a bag of candy to write. remember when I told you to remember the house layout? 😉 Enjoy!

small mention: I absolutely love knowing you all are curious about the next chapter of this series. I appreciate and love all comments I get, and try to keep all my promises I make. but, trust I’m human too and need some away from writing. Though, when rude and harassing words are used in my inbox- the joy of writing this series gets absolutely sucked away. (If I’ve answered your message, this isn’t about your comment 🫶) so, please keep your rude words to yourself or I’ll turn off anonymous inbox messages and block you the next time :)

W/C: 4.016

part eight

"I should've just taken a break to go on vacation."

Lina sighs, poking her salad with her fork, and guiding the mixture of greens and dressing up to her mouth.

"Didn't you take a trip to Paris last international break?"

Luis says, raising a brow at her words. He turns his head towards me, nudging me under the table.

"Can you believe her?" He asks, an exasperated chuckle leaving his lips. It causes me to jolt out of my half-asleep state, my eyes widening in surprise.

"What? Who?" I ask looking around and bring a hand up to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

I had rushed out of the house this morning, which meant everyone got the chance to admire my bare skin today.

Well, my stress-induced breakouts were on full display, but having some pimples wasn’t the end of the damn world anyway.

"Are you okay?" Lina joins in, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, just dozed off- been sleeping horribly." I reply, eyeing my lunch with a grimace.

"Are those exams still keeping you up?"

"More like waking me up.. Do you know how many nightmares of failing an exam a person can take?” I say, my words coming out harsher and louder than I intended. My eye twitches in irritation, and I give them a crazy look.

"Woah, you have an attitude today.." Luis mutters, shifting away from me.

"Don’t piss her off.." I hear Lina say, nudging Luis.

"Never mind, I'm going back to work." I state, quickly putting my tray of food away and walking out of the cafeteria.

I mutter curses under my breath, trying to look as normal as possible to my coworkers when I pass them in the hallways.

Exam season was practically sucking the life out of me, and the added pressure of the upcoming Champions League home game against Napoli was multiplying the stress.

Thankfully, it was international break, which meant that my normal workload was cut in half. Some players not playing for in the national team had requested leave for vacation, so the training center was pretty quiet and empty today.

I only knew of injured players being here for their scheduled recovery appointments.

I finally get back in my office, sighing in exhaustion when I get to my desk. I plop down, rubbing my face to wake myself up further, before starting to work on some more content.

"Why are you grinning like a creep?"

I turn to Luis, chuckling at his choice of words, and let go of the computer mouse.

"I just got a notification that said I passed my written exam." I beam, giving him a cocky look.

"Really?"

"Yeah, ninety-four percent..” I say, turning my head to look at the editing program. The training video we had just shot halfway edited already.

"You've been snapping at us for no reason, but I guess it was worth it- good job.." He says, shooting me a smile, and leaning in to give me a side hug.

"Yeah, sorry about that.." I apologize, fixing my wrinkled shirt. I move my hand towards the mouse again, cutting off a piece of blurry footage that we couldn’t use.

"It's fine, I guess it's payback for making you do random tasks back when you were a newbie.."

"You know, I haven't forgotten how you made me carry that heavy ass bag every morning..”

"I'm sorry, alright. You should've told me earlier that Ancelotti is basically your uncle."

I grumble at his words, jabbing his ribcage with my elbow, sending him a warning look.

"Stop talking and help me out with this.." I mutter, passing him the mouse.

He winces a little, rubbing his stomach, before snatching the mouse off of me with an attitude.

"Didn't know you were allowed to use your privilege to inflict such violence."

I roll my eyes, focused on the moving images on the computer screen. Starting to unconsciously pick at a fresh scab on my hand. Only noticing the damage I’ve done when I look down to see blood trickling down the back of my hand.

"Shit, made myself bleed.." I say, making Luis glance away from the dual monitors.

"Go to the physiotherapy room. They have a shit ton of bandages and bandaids.” He suggests, his hand going up to fix the curls falling in front of his eyes.

I nod quickly, getting up from my seat and walking out of the small, soundproof meeting room. I close the glass door behind me, hurrying over to the physiotherapy room.

I pass the glass panels facing the multiple pitches outside, the sun had been shining brightly this afternoon. Even though the sun had been setting quite early due to daylight saving time.

I knock twice when I arrive, only opening the door when I hear a loud 'come in' in response.

I clear my throat, realizing how silly it is to get a bandaid for a wound like this, but still walk in.

I'm greeted by the sight of first-team physiotherapist Iván, he smiles when he notices me, waving for me to come inside.

He was one of the nicest people working with me at Real Madrid. It would be especially fun when he would bring in his little two-year-old son with him. I couldn’t count on one hand how many times I had carried the cute boy around the training center in my free time.

"Oh, y/n. What brings you here?" He questions, shoving the white privacy curtain out of the way, only to reveal a shirtless Jude lying on the treatment table, his eyes opening to peer over at me.

The personalized shoulder brace he'd been wearing for the past couple matches, was taken off for obvious reasons, and placed on the other side of the bed.

I look away a moment later, feeling my chest tighten, internally wincing at the thought of Jude having a dislocated shoulder and still playing football. Despite all of the aggressive and offensive play we had gotten used to this season, he was handling it well- but I wouldn’t ever utter it out loud.

Because- who wants to inflate that ego even more? Or was that even possible?

"Hi, Iván.. Just wondering if you got a bandaid for me?" I avert my gaze to the physio, and raise my brows. I hold my hand up to show the wound, and smile when he nods in response.

"Yeah, just a second.." He shoots Jude a quick wink, washing his hands before coming over. He begins to rummage through the cabinet, flipping through a pack of bandaids before handing me one closest to my skin color.

"Here you go.. Do you need anything else?" He asks, eyeing the blood on my hand.

"Nope, only this. Thank you.." I smile, quickly wiping down the blood from my hand and gently placing the bandaid on my wound.

I throw the bloody wipes and wrappers in the dedicated trash can, turning around again when I’m done.

I make accidental and involuntary eye contact with Jude instead of Iván, who's already across the room busy with some paperwork. Probably documenting the progress of Jude’s injury.

My eyes automatically dart down to his shoulder, and unbelievably, my eyes slip to his chest, then to his-

I stiffen when I regain consciousness of what I’m doing, and look away with haste. I fight the urge to smack myself in the face, instead biting the flesh of my cheek when I notice him smirk at me.

"What are you looking at?" He questions, voice low and his cocky tone too obvious to ignore.

My eyes widen slightly when he speaks, and I take a step forward as if to say I’m not intimidated.

"Just- looking at your shoulder.." I say, cringing at the way the words leave my mouth.

"So, you’re worried about me now?"

I give him a look of disgust, a chuckle of disbelief leaving my mouth.

"You wish, Bellingham. I heard Ancelotti is confident in putting you in the starting lineup on Wednesday. You better put your best foot forward, and if we don’t end up winning..." I trail off, threatening him slightly with my tone. I then turn around and leave the room.

I couldn’t lie, being rude to him after he'd dislocated his shoulder and still played made me feel a little guilty.

Though, he had a huge gift of being the ultimate douchebag, even when he’d been having his 'decent' moments lately.

“He’s only turned nineteen two- no three months ago, and he’s already scoring in the Champions League..” Luis gawks, grabbing the equipment bag out of my hand.

“I know, it’s so fun to see young players flourish..” I mutter, mentally recalling the interview I just did with Nico Paz. Since it was his first goal for Real Madrid, we had just done an interview in celebration.

“He is a year younger than you.. Is he really that young to you?” Luis teases, pushing me away when I pretend to kick him.

“What? Are you trying to undermine my accomplishments?” I question, trying to kick him again.

“Hey! See, this is how immature you are.. Step back, dude get off…” He says, and I scuffle with him for a moment, gasping when he tries to put me in a headlock.

“Okay, you always do this- stop everyone is looking..” I mutter, squeezing his arm.

“How fuckin’ childish are you?” I hear a familiar voice say. I snap my head up, Luis’ arm loosening as he immediately lets me go.

“As much as I want to be...” I state, my hand traveling up to fix my hair and clothes.

I hear Jude scoff, he gives me a nasty look before taking a step forward, but I notice him freeze in my peripheral vision when he hears someone calling out to me.

“y/n?!” The person shouts, and I look around for a moment before my eyes land on…

The guys from Naples?

What’s his name again?

“Chris?..” I say, my voice low and as enthusiastic as I can manage to pretend.

Fuck, I never even answered his DM’s..

Well, should I really give a guy who looks like trouble a chance?

My common sense says: NO.

I watch him bring an arm around my back, his hand resting on my shoulder blade when he hugs me tightly. Like we’ve been friends for freaking years…

“How have you been? Thought I’d see you here..” He beams, his hand going up to fix the fluffy mop of blonde hair on his head. Aussie accent undeniably mesmerizing like last time.

He is so pretty, but the kind of pretty that told me he was a full on man-wh*re..

“Hi? Good, what are you doing here?” I ask, trying to stop the grimace forming on my face. I lean in, taking a closer look at the badge hanging from his neck.

Surprisingly enough, it says ‘VIP’- I look up at him with a questioning look, waiting for him to explain.

“Oh- this.. someone I know gifted me this pass..”

Yeah, very believable.

He smiles nonchalantly, the skin of his cheeks denting as his dimples show.

I nod as if I understand, glancing at Luis, so he can get me out of this conversation.

“You’re the drunk guy from that night!” Chris suddenly exclaims, pointing at Luis.

Could this get even more awkward.

I tune out the stupid conversation they have, shuffling backwards only to bump into Jude.

Thankfully, not against his injured shoulder.

“Oh, sorry..” I whisper, not even registering his response before he’s rudely interrupted.

“Man- no way you’re the Jude Bellingham..”

I close my eyes in embarrassment, turning around to face Jude instead of both Luis and Chris.

I raise my brows at Jude, giving him a look only readable as ‘send this man away’..

He immediately plasters an all too good, fake smile on his face. Stepping behind me to greet Chris, and begins talking to him about the match.

I can only hear a jumble of both Brum and Aussie accents, it making me want to burst into a fit of laughter. Though, I manage to keep it in, looking at Luis to see if he’s still present in the conversation.

He isn’t, as expected. No surprise, he’s fidgeting with his damn camera again.

I stand there like a statue for the next two minutes, looking back and forth between the two accented men.

It’s a comical sight, especially when I can’t even understand some words.

I sigh in relief when Jude pats Chris’ shoulder, careful with his injury when he goes in for a handshake.

I watch Jude leave swiftly, his facial expression falters immediately, and his hand goes up to rip the shoulder brace off his body, harsher than I’ve ever seen him do before.

"My brain is going to explode, fucks sake.."

I mumble, stretching my arms and legs. I get up from the dinner table in order to walk around the backyard for a moment. Trying to get some fresh air, even though it's past midnight already.

I loved studying at the dinning table way more than upstairs in my room. It felt less lonely- especially since my dad had been gone for a couple weeks now. His work and the case had taken an interesting turn, which meant that his stay had to be prolonged.

I didn't mind, in fact, I loved living alone. Except for when I heard random noises at night. It could've been a bird flying against the window, and I’d still be paranoid.

Since it was our day off, after winning 2-0 against Napoli yesterday- I thought I'd go ahead and continue cramming for my last exam I had in a couple days.

I yawn and stretch my limbs, looking up at the clear sky and stars. It had gotten so much colder since December was almost here.

My pajama shorts are not providing warmth, but I can’t be bothered to go up and change when I’m going back inside in a minute anyway.

I can hear my back cracking when I turn to stretch, making me chuckle. I was only twenty, but those hard ass chairs and sitting in them for long periods of time, made me feel like I was double my age sometimes.

I'm brought out of my thoughts when I hear my phone ring loudly from the dinning table. I jog back inside quickly, throwing my slippers off my feet and snatch my phone. Confusion settling on my face when I read the caller ID.

I immediately pick up, pressing the phone against my ear. Worrying about something horrible happening in the middle of the night.

"Dad? It's late, something wrong?" I say in one breath, left hand clutching the backrest of my chair.

"y/n, nothings wrong. I just need you to listen carefully..”

"Okay." I spit out, just wanting him to get to the point, my brain making up all types of things.

"It's concerning one of my clients. Something unexpected just happened, and he's going to have to stay over at ours for a while."

I pause at his words, frowning in confusion, even though he can’t see my face.

"What? So, you're calling me- because I need to let an unfamiliar guy into our house- so he can sleep here? Is it a criminal?”

I gasp, hand gripping my phone tighter.

“A murderer?! Dad! How can you-”

"-y/n.." He cuts me off, voice stern, but I’m able to hear the grogginess of his tone. He'd probably been sleeping before he was awakened.

"It's no stranger- it's Jude, okay? He's not safe in his own home- relating the case I took on. I offered for him to stay over out of concern for his safety. So, he's going to have to stay with- you for a while."

I stay quiet, taking in all of the information he's giving me. I can already feel a migraine creeping up on me, letting go of my chair to massage my temple with one hand.

"I have to get the guest room- ready?" I say, processing everything and trying to understand what I’m supposed to do.

"Yes, I know you two are- friendly. Please be understanding and responsible. I'll call you in the morning, just get him settled and go to bed. You got that, honey?"

"Yeah, I got it. Uh- I'll get the room ready.." I say, already walking up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.

"Good, again- I'll call you in the morning- good night, sweetie.."

I quickly hang up after saying goodbye, running around, and making the bedroom look presentable. I change the bedsheets and wipe the dust off the vanity with a swift motion. It takes me about ten minutes and a sweaty forehead, before the doorbell rings repeatedly.

I run down the stairs, almost tripping due to my haste.

I take a deep breath when I reach the front door, trying to collect my thoughts and feelings before swinging the door open.

Jude's house was unsafe to stay in, so he's staying here- right..

The front door squeaks when I open it. An exhausted-looking Jude entering my sight, his black suitcase is on the floor, to his right- looking like it’s about to burst at its seams.

Cold air greets my face and naked legs almost instantly, making me curse internally for not changing clothes earlier.

I was too stubborn for my own good..

"Hi- umh, come in?" I say, my voice hoarse as if I hadn't spoken out loud in weeks.

He nods awkwardly, mumbling something incoherent as he begins rolling his suitcase inside.

I motion for him to take his shoes off, which he promptly does without hesitation. I turn away, grabbing some house slippers for him to wear out of the shoe rack.

I throw them next to his feet, watching his eyes flicker up and down as he steps back for a moment.

"You alright?" I ask, worried about the lack of words he's using.

It was unlike him, whether we’re arguing about some stupid shit or I’m filming an interview- he always had something to say.

"Yeah, I'm fine.." He mutters, looking up and finally making eye contact with me.

"The bedroom is upstairs.." I trail off, reaching over to grab his suitcase, but he snatches the heavy luggage up with one hand, immediately making his way up the stairs.

I watch the muscles in his arm flex as I walk behind him. I stop dead in my tracks when I realize what I’m doing and practically start running up the stairs to catch up to him.

I walk ahead of him when we reach the top of the stairs, opening the guest bedroom door for him.

"This is your room, bathroom is there, and the laundry room is over there." I point, turning around to face him.

"Thanks.." His Brum accent is thick, and he looks at me like a lost man in crisis.

I clear my throat, unable to pick between being nice and acting like how we normally interacted.

"Are- do you want to go shower?" I mutter, raising my brows.

I only realize how wrong my sentence sounds the second it leaves my mouth. To cover my embarrassment, I clear my throat again, putting my hands behind my back.

"Yeah- I should.." He responds, and I step aside to let him in the bedroom.

"I'll be downstairs.."

I inform, running down the stairs the second he shuts the door behind him.

I rub my eyes aggressively when I walk into the living room area. Sitting on the couch, I wonder if this is some delusional fever dream.

Maybe it’s just a different genre of dreams, next to those nightmares I had about failing exams.

I mean- who can make this up?

I get up to my feet again, walk up to the fridge, and begin filling up a huge glass with water. I bring the cup up to my lips, and slowly sip on the cool liquid, hoping it will help me feel grounded again.

I exhale deeply when I'm halfway through the cup. Going for my last gulp of water again, I fill my mouth with the rest of the water. My cheeks almost exploding from the amount of water in my mouth.

Suddenly, I'm absolutely- fucking-scared shitless as I'm poked in between my shoulder blades. I turn around in a shift motion, accidentally spraying out the water in my mouth- onto a shirtless Jude's chest.

My eyes almost bug out of my head in shock. My jaw slacks open when I observe the aftermath.

He can only look at me with a blank face. I can’t detect any emotion in his face, but he’s probably equally as mortified as me.

"Shit- sorry.." I blurt, turning around, and grabbing a kitchen towel. I scramble for a second, and start to vigorously..wipe.. his..chest..

I only realize I'm rubbing on his chest like I’m giving him a damn massage- mid-wipe and freeze.

My body goes rigid and my hands are resting on his now dry, naked chest.

I look up at him, only seeing part of his face with help from the dim lights in the kitchen. My breathing slows down, and he looks down at me in return.

I can feel my heart pounding in my ribcage, and I'm sure anyone within meters of me could hear.

His skin is soft and warm underneath my fingertips-

"I- was going to ask how the shower works.." Jude whispers, his warm breath hitting my face. I can make out his brown eyes peering into mine, a series of unspoken and caged words behind them.

His words make me stop breathing for a moment. I remove my hands off of him at lightning speed, the kitchen towel falling to the floor mindlessly and I step back immediately.

"Oh- yeah, sure. Follow me.." I scramble a couple words together, my brain working overtime. I walk up the stairs again. Leading him into the bathroom, noticing he had left the lights on, his discarded shirt on the bathroom counter.

"Here- left is hot, right is cold. This is the best temperature.." I instruct, pointing when necessary and don’t dare to look up at him as he stands behind me.

"This button is for the radio and this one for the ventilation.." I say, pressing some buttons to show him how they work.

"Okay.." He breaths out, his warm breaths hitting the back of my neck. I can practically feel his eyes drilling into the back of my head.

I finally turn to look at him, dragging my gaze up to make awkward eye contact with him.

"Anything else?" I ask, voice low and I begin fidgeting with the hem of my shorts.

"Not really..” He replies, sentence dragged out by his accent.

"Umh- okay.. laundry hamper is there. I'll be in my room.." I trail off, pointing my thumb behind me, and walk out of the bathroom without saying anything else.

I quickly clean up the mess I - no, he caused in the kitchen. I wipe everything down properly and grab my laptop and stationary off the dining table.

I carefully lock the front door and windows on the first floor, setting up the alarm and going back upstairs.

I can hear some noise coming from the bathroom. I begin averting my gaze, just in case Jude walks out of the bathroom half-naked again.

I finally get into my bedroom, jumping into my bed. I try to distract myself with my phone until he's done with showering. So I can finally wash my face and brush my teeth after a long day of studying.

Only, this time- my phone doesn’t seem to be all too interesting. Not even those brainrotting and attention grabbing TikTok’s.

Nothing, and I mean nothing- could distract me from anything that had happened within the past thirty minutes..

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #football imagines #football fanfic #footballer x reader #football #football imagine #real madrid

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Part 2, chapter 6- eviction notice

Series masterlist

Warnings- This one’s a lot more jj centered, but some rafe and reader moments (: two exes still pining for each other Is my favorite

Summary: you’re finally back home, the pogues missed you and Rafe can’t get over you

A knock on the door interrupted your nightly routine, you sighed, standing up and opening the door.

“Hi.” You said, a little shocked at Rafe’s appearance this late.

“Okay, so…” he pushed past you, sitting down on the bed, next to you. “we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“You mean… back to Kildare?” You asked him.

He nodded. “I- I already asked if you could use a phone, but, my dad doesn’t really trust you right now. But… I can…” he sighed. “I can see if I can try and email one of them or something.“

You nodded at him. He stood up, going to the door before you called his name.

“Rafe.”

“Yeah?” He turned to look at you.

“Thank you.”

A million thoughts ran through his mind as he walked back home. When he got there, he saw yellow tape on the door, along with an eviction notice. Going up with furrowed eyebrows, he held back tears.

“What?” He mumbled, confused. You told him that you were paying for it, that you were just staying at Ricky’s because you couldn’t bear to be at the house. Not because you lost it.

He looked on the back when he saw some marker bleed through, you had written on it.

“I’m sorry, JJ.” You scrawled out on it, he saw some tear stains on the paper as well. With a small sigh, tears threatening to spill, he entered through the window, grabbing the pills from the counter, sitting on the couch, and throwing them.

He ran his hands over his face, beginning to cry into them while taking a sip of the beer his dad had left.

He was outside, fixing his bike with Kiara came up behind.

“Eviction notice. For like, non payment or whatever. My sister didn’t even tell me.” He stood up, facing her now. He sighed, looking back at the house.

“Doesn’t matter. This place sucks anyway. Great to be back in the outer banks, right?”

“So get this. I uh, had an email waiting for me when I got home. John B actually found Big John. He’s alive..”

JJ paused, turning his head to Kiara now.

“Seriously?”

Kiara nodded. “Yeah. He’s at the Chateau.”

JJ smiled, standing up again. “Damn.”

“Yeah, he thinks we’re close to the same treasure Singh was talking about.”

JJ nodded, sniffling as he grabbed a towel.

“Hey, look. My parents didn’t even wanna let me out of the house. But I told them I had to come check on you.”

“Well, it’s not me you have to worry about.” He exhaled.

“JayJ, what’s up? Is it something Pope said? I know he’s not all obsessed about what happened between me and him. We’re both past that, but something’s bugging you. And it’s not just your sister.”

“It was just weird, what almost happened on the boat with us. It was just weird.” He said, inhaling.

“Yeah, Yeah, I mean it was… it was weird for me too, but… not bad weird.”

“No. Not bad weird.” He came closer to her, the both of them staring at each other.

“What are we doing?” He asked, heart picking up. “What are we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, nah.” He repeated, moving his face away from hers, walking away. “We shouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah..”

“We shouldn’t!”

“If you say so.”

“I mean, it would like all blow up anyway. You know? Like…” he panted. “Look at you. You got your new threads on, look at me what do I got? This?” He pointed to the house. “This piece of shit?!” He picked up a rock, throwing it at the house.

“Getting kicked out of this place in like a week anyways. Shit, I don’t got parents right now, or my sister. Why would you care? Why would you care? I’m just some loser that- that-“ he stuttered.

“jj…”

“You don’t do care.”

“I do-“

“No, you don’t!”

“I do care!” She argued.

“No, you got parents that live in figure 8, you know? You know… you…”

“That’s not my fault.”

“That’s your future. You got that.” He walked away again, his hands on the back of his head.

“Look if you need us, we’re gonna help you. I’m… I’ll help.”

“It’s that right there! Okay? Like- it’s so easy for you to say that. You know why? Because you’re a kook. You’re a kook, Kiara!”

She nodded, looking down. “Yeah, I’m a kook. I was such a kook when I was living in a cave with you for a month. Soaking in the kook life.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. God!” He threw on his hat, getting on his bike, and starting the engine.

“JayJ, don’t leave.”

He didn’t listen, just ran away. The only thing he knew how to do.

On the dock, he paced, staring out, even breaking it and throwing things down, kicking and throwing shit.

He paused, looking over you sleeping for a moment. You looked peaceful. He missed this. He would do anything if it meant he could have you so peaceful like that with him again.

It would take time, though. Even Rafe knew that.

“Rise and shine,” Rafe spoke, hitting your shoulder to wake you up.

You mumbled something incoherently, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up with a yawn.

When you opened your eyes, you had a small smile at the sight of the island. Finally.

His eyes were set on you, while you looked out at the island.

When you got to Tannyhill, you helped Rafe with the boat and went up the dock.

Rafe lead you to to the front, both of you standing in front of each other now.

“Thanks, again.” You told him, staring into his baby blue eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off.

“You know, Rafe, you could be a really good man when you try.” You told him when you began to walk away.

He rolled his eyes, a small smile gracing his features when you turned. “Whatever.”

But when you left, you spotted Sarah leaving as well.

“Sarah?” You questioned, making her turn to you.

She said your name, her tone confused and shocked.

“Holy shit, y/n?!” Kiara practically shouted when you came up on the boat with Sarah. You smiled at her, and she came up and embraced you.

“Hey, Kie.” You said with a laugh,

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to push you off-“

“It’s fine. I know.” You shrugged.

“I went to go grab some clothes and a phone, and I found her, but…”

“Rafe is back.” You finished her sentence.”And the cross is coming back. To Wilmington tomorrow night. I heard him on the phone yesterday.”

“And I heard him not that long ago.”

“What?” She looked at Sarah and back at you.

“I was gonna tell Pope at the Chateau.”

“He can’t. He’s on lockdown.”

“Okay, um… then.. I’ll hit up Pope, and then maybe you go to the Chateau and tell John B. And JJ?”

Kiara swallowed at that.

“Wait, is he.. at the chateau?” You asked them.

Kiara shrugged. “I don’t know. He blew up on me earlier. He… uh.. was at the house.”

“Shit..” you murmured.

JJ pulled up to the Chateau, whistling for John B. You stood up, Kiara was inside, not wanting to intrude on you two.

“JJ.” You spoke quietly.

He turned around at the sound of your voice. He whispered your name, repeating it louder now as he came up to you.

He wrapped his arms around you, tears falling down his face.

“Holy shit. You’re- you’re-“

“Yeah.” You laughed, tears falling down your own face now.

“You didn’t tell me we got evicted. I would- I would have helped..” he told you, looking at your face now.

“I didn’t want you to. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You shook your head feverishly. “I’m saving up for a better house, now.”

He smiled and shook his head again.

“I missed you so much, dude.” He said, pulling you in for another hug.

Kiara came out, waiting. He turned to Kiara now, clearing his throat and wiping his tears.

“Is uh… John B not here?” He asked with a sigh.

“Nope.”

Kiara cleared her throat, cutting through the awkward silence.

“What’s up?”

“Uh, Rafes what’s up.” Kiara spoke.

“He’s back on the island, JJ.” You continued her sentence. “He said he’s staying for a little, for business or some shit.”

“Spectacular.” He said sarcastically.

“It’s not just that. I overheard him saying the cross is coming into Wilmington tomorrow. Wards trying to sell it.” You said.

“Great. Does Pope know?”

“Yeah. Sarah went to tell him. He’s locked down.” Kiara told him. “And I guess John B and his dad went and got the Twinkie. They’re off to God knows where.” Kiara handed him the envelope.

“Yeah, of course. Just when we need them.” He threw his hands up, staring out into the water.

“Wait, hold on though.” He stopped, turning to you both now. “We know where the cross is gonna be. That means it’s still on the field. Okay, alright. So we can come in and swoop, we’re still in this. We gotta get everybody together, then we’ll come up with a plan. Get our asses to Wilmington.”

Kiara looked at you. You urged her as he walked away.

“Hey, hey, JJ, before we can formulate some crazy plan, can we talk?” Kiara spoke, catching up to him.

JJ took a deep breath, talking was never really his thing.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can talk.”

“Something almost happened. Between us on the boat.”

“Mmm-hmm..”

“And I know that’s got to freak you out. It caught me off guard too. And I know, your whole life, I know you freak when people get close, and I get it. I don’t blame you.”

He looked away, because he knew she was right.

“Just please don’t ever say that I don’t care about you. And you called me a kook…”

“Okay, well, hold on-“ he started.

“Which is lame.”

“I know. That was lame..”

“It was uncalled for. Yeah, it’s a low blow.”

“All right, Kie. Look, Kie,” he put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re right. I flipped. You know how I be. Just uh.. just… look. We should just… just call it a truce. Just.. etch a sketch it. Clean slate. Truce?”

“Truce.” She held her hand out.

“So, how we gonna jack this cross?” You came up to them suddenly, both of them jumping at you.

“Jesus! You just got back and you’re already trying to give me a heart attack?”

don’t like this chapter too much ugh

Tag list:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #obx series #jj obx #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron series #rafe x reader #drew starkey x reader #dre

[yuri-is-online]

Keep thinking bout Yutu and his relationship to his dad. Like we know a little more about Ace, Floyd, Azul and Riddle (maybe I miss someone else?) but I was curious about other details or interactions with the other Overblot boys.

Like how does talking with someone who tries his best to not get involved in other people's business like Jamil work for making his parents fall in love (if that's even something Yutu can see happening with how distant he is)? How does Yutu go about trying to lay some clues for Vil without being found when Vil's doing his best (with Rook's help) to figure out what's going on?

Or what about the shenanigans Ortho would get to to ensure Idia and Yuu get together so they can try to stop the apocalypse and how would Yutu feel about having at least one person (his uncle at that!) who he can rely on? Or does Yutu ever find himself in a situation that makes him go "oh, I could've had this with dad if it weren't for the council" whenever Malleus says something deep without realizing?

Gaaaaahhhhh I just really like this au and I wanna ask you so many questions but I also don't wanna be annoying

ask is referencing the fyuuture kid au, information on which can be found here and here, or under the series section on my masterlist.

No one is annoying for asking questions! I have asks for Idia and Leona's Yutus, which I think makes every overblot boy except for Jamil and Vil due for a detailed post. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a grey area since I have talked about him a bunch but haven't done detailed hc for him. Yet anyway, Jade and Floyd got one so he needs one too otherwise it'll bug me.

Jamil! Yutu absolutely has a lot of guilt and self hatred around his entire existence. As I talked about in the post about the main cast, Jamil was executed in Yutu's future, and he feels personally responsible for that. If his dad had never fallen in love with Yuu then he would have had a chance at his freedom, that's how Yutu has come to see it anyway. He doesn't want Jamil to fall in love with Yuu, even if it means erasing his existence. Down that road lies only tragedy, but there is also something so beautiful about the way Jamil interacts with Yuu when he thinks no one is looking. There is a degree of mutual respect for how hard the other works and intense desire for approval and praise he can sympathize with. He just doesn't see a way for this to end well if it's allowed to continue, he's a very pessimistic kid Jamil! Yutu. But then again the others didn't have to see the rotted corpse of their father getting dragged around by a blot phantom and be told by a few angry relatives of Kalim that he is the one who put him there.

Vil! Yutu is a bit afraid of his dad. He knows from personal experience that the man is intense and does not take no for an answer but he's never been in the position to see 1) what a good thing that can be or 2) just how silly that can make him act. He's also NEVER had to contend with the real Rook before. The Rook he's familiar with is a mindless monster, dangerous sure, but with patterns you can memorize and protect yourself from. This guy is just wild, sure his dad says that he's only putting up for his behavior "for now" but someone tell him where the fucking line is??? The last thing he wants is to just say everything and risk ruining the timeline but Vil keeps demanding specifics. The main thing Yutu tries to do is get him cooperating with Idia in learning about blot phantoms, the way he sees it things will be much easier if his two most trusted adults are on the same page. It's not a difficult ask either post chapter six, I think Vil is someone who would want to understand what happened to him on a scientific level to some degree, but oh Yutu. Now you've just made him wonder how you know that little piece of information, not everyone knows about his overblot, but he didn't know that bit did he?

Ortho and Idia! Yutu wind up being very close. Having his uncle on his side puts Yutu in a much more stable place emotionally and mentally than other Yutus. They spend a lot of time analyzing old records about blot and phantoms, everyone else is convinced they're just hyping each other up for some weird PhD project inspired by the Ramshackle Prefect's time at NRC and hey. They aren't exactly wrong. As for how they go about trying to get Idia and Yuu together... it's a lot of anime recommendations and conveniently forgetting they had something else to do. Yutu has just as in depth knowledge of Idia's tastes as Ortho does, and the added bonus of knowing Yuu's, so they search through lists of things, pick out the shows they know will get the two of you talking and then sit back and let you interact. Yutu is genuinely confused about why or if this is working... but Ortho did send him a video of his dad hyping himself up to try and ask you out (he over heated and just hid inside his room instead but hey. It's the thought that counts.)

Malleus! Yutu just got his post here. And yes he does think regularly about what he could have had with his father if things had been different, but a lot of those thoughts come from his sillier moments. Hearing Malleus talk at length about ruins or seeing him confused about how to interact with technology make him seem more... human for lack of a better term to him. He's very familiar with the myth of Malleus Draconia, but he wasn't fathered by a myth. He was fathered by a man who fell in love with a human under very extraordinary circumstances and Yutu wants to know about why. What things did Malleus like most about Yuu? About Twisted Wonderland? If he had gotten a chance to be raised by him what things would Malleus have wanted to teach him? Would he be any different?

Azul! Yutu is also afraid of his dad, but not based on any personal experiences just his own insecurities. He's not a thin guy, he's not in Octavinelle, and he is extremely worried that his dad will see him as some sort of stupid muscle head and be disappointed in having him. He's also, understandably, extremely angry at him when he learns what he did in Book 3 to his parent. Fuck this guy, he'll just save Yuu himself and hopefully if they still get together he'll grow up to be a totally different person when he's born in this good timeline. But there's just something about Azul's approval that he can't help but want now that drives him crazy. Why can't he just be ok with being alone? He has been all this time anyway...

(Meanwhile Azul is deeply impressed with how well Yutu is at disguising himself as a dumb muscle head. Just look at the kid, he's got everyone thinking he just is controlling their shadows while he's actually using a really complicated bit of cosmic magic. Suckers all of them. Not him though. He's not being fooled by anything about Yutu, no sir.)

Leona, Leona, Leona. He's tricky for me to write. Scar apparently has children? In one the the Lion King sequels? Leona's dislike of kids seems to come from his complicated feelings around the throne and his want for people to be independent. I think he would be one of those gruff intense kind of dads who does the whole "we are never getting a pet" thing and then you see him asleep on the recliner with Princess Nooodles III chilling on his lap with him. Anyway back to Yutu-

Leona! Yutu's relationship with his dad is tempered by the fact Leona knows who and what he is from the start and demands to know why he has traveled back in time. He doesn't explicitly say he knows that he is his father or that Yuu is his other parent, just that he knows time travel is involved, so they have a fairly open amount of communication regarding the overblot "business" but not on much else. Yutu has a desire to understand his father and Leona has a desire to not disappoint him. Who would want their dad to be the second prince? He's destined for nothing but a miserable life anyway, all of the responsibility and none of the privilege (outside of the money but lets be real, Leona's ass does not understand that.) I don't think either Leona or Yutu fully understands that his existence is enough for the other to be happy. When they are forced to talk about it they both laugh it off and roll their eyes at how cheesy that sounds but deep down it means a lot to both of them.

Riddle! Yutu has gotten a lot of posts about him and his "hatred" of his dad but I thought I'd take this post to mention I like the idea of Yutu's favorite food being the chestnut tarts/mont blanc that aren't allowed at Unbirthday Parties but that Riddle still wanted to eat anyway. He's a lot like his father in his love of sweets and his determined denial of it, but he isn't the exact same. Also gives him one more thing to pick a fight with Riddle over (his dad doesn't get the big deal, they can just have a private tea party with Yuu and have all the different sweets they want... can't they?)

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #overblot boys

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Five

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Angst, implied SA, Tamlin and Amarantha are mentioned, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s off on a mission, so you train with Cassian. Upon returning, the Spymaster doesn’t like seeing you with his brother.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four

The next morning, you were up early but no one was there for breakfast with you. And instead of Azriel, Cassian was in the training ring. “Oh… is Azriel not here today?” You asked.

“He’s got some spying to do, so I’ll keep up with your training.” He said.

Of course Azriel wouldn’t want to keep training you along with his spying. He had so many more important things to do than babysit an amateur Shadowsinger. And it was very apparent from the training session yesterday that you didn’t know nearly as much as him.

“You ready? Or do you need to stare off into the distance for a little longer?” Cassian said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m ready, Commander.” You teased, getting in the position he started with the warm ups.

Cassian was more brutal than Azriel was, enough so that you were thinking Azriel was going easy on you. The prick. Cass made you sit in squats for longer, balance with your wings stretched out or tucked in more. It was all you could do by the end of it to not fall down the stairs to the House.

“Az said to give you these.” Cassian said and handed you a basket, your muscles groaning at the extra weight. “Said something about an owing you a massage when he got back.”

Your eyes widened and face flushed before you heard Cassian let out a loud chuckle. “You’re almost as bad as him.” He said and laughed. “For spies, you sure don’t hold back when you get embarrassed.” Cass said and winked at you before going to the dining room.

You set the basket in your room, opting to take a bath first before you went to the dining room to dig into the roast that was waiting for you. Then, you went to the library to start on your research into the Cauldron.

You never saw Gwyn. Though Rhys told you that the new priestesses normally took a while to adjust before being out of their dorms. What happened to her just yesterday made your stomach turn… and you couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been for her to wake up today in a new place. You’d have to ask Clotho how she was doing when you got the chance.

You didn’t learn anything new about the Cauldron, but you brought more books up to the personal library to read more.

You still wondered how Feyre was doing with Tamlin. You remember when Rhys told you the story of what Tamlin’s family did to Rhys’s mother and sister. And how Tamlin himself had killed Rhys’s father. Hearing about the rage that Tamlin held that day… you’d hope it had changed. You’d hoped that Feyre was happy with him, and that he would treat her well. Still, the thought of Feyre with him was unsettling to you. You couldn’t figure it out, and your shadows seemed to be just as disturbed by it whenever it came to your mind.

As you read into the night, waiting to see if you heard Azriel come back, you couldn’t help as your mind wander to how lucky you were that you ended up here after Amarantha died. How you found friends that seemed to care about you, and a High Lord that didn’t just want to use you for his own bidding, but wanted you around because he trusted you. You could get used to calling Velaris, in all its beauty, your home. And these new friends your family.

Azriel didn’t come back to the House of Wind for two weeks. Cassian had taken up your training, and you were already learning how to handle a sword (with the wooden practice ones) when Azriel watched you both from the steps.

He had been searching for the other parts of the Cauldron, ordering his spies to find out anything they could about what Hybern planned to do with it. And he only figured out that Hybern had Jurian’s eye and finger bone. Someone had snuck it off of Amarantha’s body before Tamlin killed her. He still couldn’t find out how, or who.

Seeing you work with Cassian strained something in him. A desire to be around you, or the jealousy that Cass was training you and he wasn’t. Azriel couldn’t tell what it was. Either way, he was almost proud to see you doing so well. What took most young Illyrian’s years to master, you had seem to do it in two weeks. All while taking flying lessons with Cassian as well. Cass told him that you were doing great with all of it. Better than any male he’s trained, actually. And you took it in stride too. Doing everything that Cassian threw at you. He even loaded a pack on your chest two days ago and had you fly up and down the mountain for two hours. You were almost ready to throw the pack at him by the end of it. But you knew it was to build up your strength. If you were going to be carrying Illyrian blades and a bow, you would need it.

Azriel knew you could do good. From the moment you agreed to train, he knew you had the motivation in you to do it. Whether it be from hate of what your family did to you, or from dedication to not let it happen again, he knew you would do it. He wanted to be the one to train you. He wanted to see that dedication every day. He hadn't seen an Illyrian learn so fast in a long time, and he knew it was a testament to an underlying power that brewed within you. That his shadows whispered to him about.

And yet, he took the first mission Rhys offered. There was something about you that pulled his attention every time you were in the room. And he couldn’t place it. His shadows wouldn’t tell him anything. And your few shadows that danced around his ankles up to his hands and neck whenever he was close to you drove him crazy. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of you but also didn’t want to get too close. He couldn’t handle getting close and you pushing him away. Or going for another male like Rhys or Cass. Like Mor had done when she chose Cassian over him. And then never acknowledged him more than a close friend. Family. Nothing like he wanted. He may have given up on her a long time ago, but sometimes it still stung.

So he took the mission to keep his distance. No matter the tug he felt when he was around you. He fought it. And kept his thoughts and emotions about you to himself.

“Azriel!” He heard your voice say, followed by a yelp when Cassian hit your stomach with the butt of the sword.

“Really, Cass?” You growled and nudged him away before jogging over to Azriel. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Where have you been?” You asked, catching your breath.

“We’re not done!” Cassian yelled at you, but you simply stared at Azriel, waiting for an answer.

All Azriel could do was trail his eyes up the leathers you were wearing. The way they clung to your curves. The way they were already filled out much more than they were that first training day. Your hair was in a braid, but little wisps if it were out, clinging to your forehead with sweat.

“Azriel?” You asked again, not shifting under his stare like you had before. Training like this with Cassian had made you much more confident. Like you were before Amarantha came and tore your life apart. You still didn’t want to admit how much those 50 years effected you. Even if they were still recent. You wanted to put them in the past and not think about them any more that you were required. And luckily, no one had asked you much after the first day of telling them your story.

Cassian bounded over, patted Azriel on the shoulder in a way of greeting, and then picked you up over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” You yelled and clenched your fists. “Put me down,” you ground out.

“No chance, you are still training. And no pretty boy is going to distract you. Got it?” He asked and you grumbled. “Got it?” He asked again.

“Yes! Cauldron… Now put me down before I start clawing your wings.” You said firmly. He set you down back in the middle of the training ring and handed you the sword you discarded.

“What’s the number one rule I taught you about your weapon?” He asked.

“The pointy end goes away from you?” You remarked, earning a swipe of his own sword, which you blocked. “Don’t drop it in the middle of a fight without a purpose.” You said and knocked his sword back.

Azriel watched as you bantered with Cassian almost as seamlessly as you fought. At one point, you had Cassian so speechless and stunned that you were able to knock his sword from his hand. It was at that point that Cassian knocked you from your feet, your sword clattering much farther away from you than his. Cass always did want to be the one to win the battle.

It was everything Azriel could do to not go and help you out. Or coach you on how to get out from under him. Especially since Cassian was much larger than you. Not to mention better trained.

He must have been feeling generous, or you got the drop on him (probably the former) because you were able to use his weight against him and flip the two of you over so you were on top. Straddling his hips, your hands mere inches from the tips of his wings. Panting.

“Rhys wants us in the dining room for lunch.” Azriel called out, knowing that Rhys would wait. And if he really wanted you all to meet, he could speak mind-to-mind easily. But Azriel couldn’t stand to see you in that position with Cassian. And he couldn’t stop himself for imagining him under you instead. He quickly turned on his heel and vanished with his shadows back to his room.

“Just when it was getting fun.” You joked as you stood up and held out a hand for Cassian, who let out a booming laugh.

“Keep saying things like that and Az might slice me to bloody ribbons.” He joked and you shrugged.

“I doubt it. He doesn’t seem too interested in me.” You said as you grabbed a glass of water and downed it. “And if he is, he sure has a weird way of showing it. He ignored me the whole first month, trained me one day, and then disappeared on a two week mission. And he’s still ignoring me.” You muttered and downed another glass of water.

“Hmm… let’s show him what he’s missing, then,” Cass said and slung an arm around your shoulder, avoiding your wings. Your shadows curled away slightly from his touch. Not in a bad way, but in a way that didn’t happen with Azriel. They always curled around him. Even if he wasn’t touching you, but in the same room. You always tacked it up to him being a Shadowsinger himself, and maybe it was comforting for your shadows to have someone else to cling to. You still barely knew how the things worked. Even after having them around for a hundred years.

You knew how to hide in them, how to listen and talk to them, how to winnow with them. But not much else. It was still a hassle most of the time when you wanted to control them. So if a few of your shadows wanted a more experienced singer to cling to, you were more than willing to let them. For a little while. You still liked your shadows. If you ever had to go without them, you wouldn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t have the comforting feel of them whirling your ankles and wings. Throughout your hair.

“Come out with us tonight.” Cassian said once you made it down the stairs.

You looked up at his towering form and rose your eyebrows. “Where?” You asked. Even the first month of you here, you didn’t go out with them. You didn’t go into the city much either, barely even visited the town home. You didn’t want to impose on it just yet. And it was too many people who would be watching your every move. Like they did when you worked for her. So you stayed in the House. And you liked it. Plus, you started to see Gywn around the library, not speaking to anyone, but at least she was out of her dorm.

“To Rita’s. I know Mor would love it. She’s been complaining that you didn’t come last week.” He said and you smiled a bit. You quite liked the female. She was bright and full of energy. And she didn’t take shit from the boys. And barely took it from Amren, who still scared you enough to not meet her eye.

“I don’t have much to wear.” You said, Cassian cringing as you both heard a yelp from down the stairs to the dining room.

“Did I hear that we’re going shopping?” Mor said and bounded over to the bottom of the stairs, bouncing on her heels.

“I didn’t say that.” You teased as you stepped down beside her.

“Oh, please? I’ll help you pick out the perfect outfit.” She said and nudged you. You winced a bit, still sore from the training. Your braid was still a mess. But you didn’t care, you were starving and just wanted to eat. Even if you looked ridiculous.

As if reading your thoughts, your shadows swirled around your head, either covering or smoothing your hair, you couldn’t tell. Either way, you silently thanked them.

“Hmm.. fine. But I would prefer to go when it’s not too crowded…” you said and she gave you a knowing look. As if she too knew what it was like to want to hide away. You weren’t sure how she would ever feel like that. You figured she got more energy from being around people, new people, than anyone else. Where as for you… well you learned to like your solitude. Probably from the years you spent locked in your cabin while your family went to train. And then the years following that was spent in a village with no more than 50 inhabitants.

“So you’ll come out with us tonight?” Cassian asked as you entered the dining room with them.

Shrugging again, you answered, “Sure. Though if people start asking me to do party tricks with my shadows, I’m leaving.” You said and rolled your shoulders back, tucking in your wings.

“Trust us, they won’t. Not when Az is the only Shadowsinger they knew and he once stabbed someone for looking at him the wrong way.” Mor joked and you furrowed your eyebrows. Even though Azriel was a little cold to you, you could tell he was kind. Especially with the way this family acted with him.

“He was 38 and we were recovering from the war, remember?” Rhys added from his spot at the table. “And that was in Hewn. Everyone in Hewn would be stabbed if they looked at Az the way that male did.” He mentioned and then leaned back. He didn’t have his wings out today, so you figured this was a business lunch more than a formal one. They had all mainly been away, or you’d been I’m your room burying your nose in the books on the Cauldron. Or they had been meeting in the town home. Definitely not around you.

Soon you were all settled, Azriel appearing before the meal was served and sitting next to Rhys and Amren. Cassian was on your right, and Mor on your left. That left the other three across from you. It felt like someone was missing from the table, but as you counted around, you knew that was everyone.

After you had all ate a couple bites (Amren pushing her food around like always), Rhys looked up, setting his utensils down. “Cassian, I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys said. “See how the army is coming along. And if the females are being trained properly.” He said, then looked at you. “And I would prefer if you went along.” He said.

“Just with Cassian? Don’t you need to introduce me as emissary?” You asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Cass is the commander of my armies. If he says they’re to listen to you, they will.” Rhys said and you rose your eyebrows. You knew Illyrians. And you knew that wasn’t true. You also knew that Rhys knew it too. But you weren’t going to push, so you nodded.

“How long do you want me there?” Cassian asked.

“Two weeks, and then you can come back in time for the Solstice.” He said. “We’ll spend it in the townhome.”

“You think Devlon is ready for another Shadowsinger?” Azriel piped in.

“The question is, do you think Devlon is ready for the first female Shadowsinger?” Cassian asked.

You hummed. “I think you all need to be asking if Devlon is ready for me. I’m not just a Shadowsinger, you know.” You said, crossing your arms. “And I think the answer is no. Devlon used to be a friend of my father’s. He very might well faint when he recognizes me to be the daughter of Rechard Vash.” You stated and smirked.

“I like how you think, girl.” Amren said and leaned back in her chair, her arm draped over the arm of it. “I say Devlon has whatever is coming to him from her,” she said as she looked at Rhys.

He only chuckled as he went back to eating. “Was that it?” You asked and leaned forward. “Or should I leave so you can discuss what Azriel learned on that mission?” You asked.

None of them stiffened at your tone, or the implication that they didn’t trust you.

“I merely wanted to finish my food,” Rhys said with an easy smile. “But if you’re eager to learn about what the Spymaster learned, go ahead Az.” He said and took another bite of the roast.

“I didn’t learn anything useful,” Azriel said. “Well, other than that there are two pieces of the Cauldron missing and I still have no clue where the third one is. Though, it’s probably in a temple.” He said. “Hopefully here. If it’s in another Court… that’ll be harder to detect.” He finished.

“I never thought you’d be one to be down on yourself,” you said, taking a bite of vegetables. “Sounds like you learned quite a lot.”

Once again, he ignored you and looked at Rhys. “Any chance I can go back to Sangravagh and examine it again?” He asked and Rhys waved his hand. “Go where you need to, but I still have one more thing to ask of you when we’re done with lunch.” He said.

As much as you wanted to slump into your chair, you stayed still as you ate. You didn’t know what you did wrong to have Azriel act so indifferent towards you. Of all the Inner Circle, you thought you would bond with him the most. Being a Shadowsinger… it wasn’t easy. It was rare and the looks that you got. The burdens that you had to carry. You figured only he would understand. But he didn’t even try to speak to you.

And it continued into the night, after you went shopping with Mor. She even had Rhys’s in-house tailor fix all the clothing so your wings would fit seamlessly around them. All in time to go to Rita’s.

A/N: This is a fun little chapter with some of Az’s pov - a little longer than the rest. When the IC + our reader goes to Rita's in the next chapter... I think you'll enjoy it!!

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[becauseimanicequeen]

Don't Ask Me for QL Recommendations Because My Taste is BAD

Bad as in TRASHY.

For your own good, don't ask me for recommendations.

I'm writing this because I've gotten some asks lately for QL recommendations and I wanted to spare you the pain.

If you still don't trust me (because to be fair, why would you? I'm just a random weirdo on the internet), let me tell you how bad my taste is so you'll know why I'm doing you a great favor by sparing you the pain.

(I also watch, and rewatch, series/films for ridiculous reasons, yet another reason not to listen to me. I’ll come back to this in a minute.)

Let's start with a brief rewind to a couple of decades ago (because it matters in this context).

The first queer content of any kind I can remember watching was Xena: The Warrior Princess in the late 90s and early 00s (I was a child/pre-teen at the time). It was such a pivotal point for me, which is why I remember it vividly. Not only was Lucy Lawless (the actress playing Xena) the most beautiful human being I had ever seen at that point, Xena was also queer and I loved her.

The series, though? It’s bad.

It’s over-the-top, contains ridiculous humor, face-palm-worthy fight scenes, etc., etc. (But, it was also the 90s, so it was quality television at the time, no matter what anyone else says.) It was so bad that it was ridiculously entertaining. I would watch it today (if I could find it anywhere…). That’s how bad my taste is (or how attached I am to bad shit).

That’s when the groundwork for my bad taste was laid. I blame THANK Xena: The Warrior Princess for it.

Then there was a huge skip until July last year when I found the Asian QL world, because I had no idea it even existed (I’m from Europe, btw).

(My personal story is that I fell into the queer/gay film world before the QL world, and the queer films I could find were made and released very sporadically. But ever since I found the treasure trove of Asian QL series in July 2023, I’ve watched 291 series/films as of right now.)

The reason I fell into the Asian QL world was thanks to a Short on YouTube with the main characters from Roommates of Poongduck 304 kissing. (Want to know what convinced me to watch it? One of them was wearing blue and the other pink, two of my favorite colors. Yep, that’s the reason. Told you it would be ridiculous.)

Since then, I’ve been exploring this rabbit hole and loving every second of all the bad shit that’s out there (there’s some great shit too, and some great things that aren’t shit at all, but they’re not really my taste because my taste is trashy, remember?).

I quickly noticed what my taste was pulling me towards and, in some cases, the trashier it was, the more I liked it.

(I’m talking about fiction here. I’m mature enough to be able to separate fiction from reality. Just because I enjoy watching a series/film that depicts a problematic topic, and sometimes do it in a problematic way, doesn’t mean I condone it in real life. I’m just putting this here as a disclaimer because people on the internet are easily offended nowadays. And I honestly don’t have time to respond to people who are venting their anger after purposefully misinterpreting what I’ve said, unless there’s a very valid reason, which there usually isn’t.)

So, what are some of my favorites that I absolutely do not recommend you watch?

Unless you want to watch trash, then, have at it. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

(Btw, if you like any of these, I apologize for calling your taste bad and trashy. But, if you like any of these, I think you already know your taste is bad. Also, if you like any of these, hey, bestie!)

Let’s start with the less extreme ones so I don’t scare you away from the start. After that, they’re in no particular order.

(With the issues/TW section for each series/film I include possible trigger warnings, taboo topics, what viewers/commenters have brought up as problematic, my possible issues with the writing, etc. I won’t list everything (because some of them would have looong lists) but I’m including some of the major ones.)

Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, age gap, “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers, etc.

Both couples in this series have their own set of issues. Ai Di and Chen Yi are the “adoptive” brothers who become lovers while Ze Rui and Zong Yi have an age gap (I can’t remember how big of an age gap but I think it was close to 10-ish years).

(Before I move on there’s one thing you should know about me… I was born into a family with a varying degree of age gaps within marriages, from 2 to 23 years. Even though we’ve talked about the bigger age gaps occasionally, it’s never been an issue. I don’t mind age gaps as long as they’re legal. Does that mean I would hook up with someone in their late teens or early twenties? No. I would rather hook up with someone who has a fully developed brain, which science suggests doesn’t happen until somewhere in the mid-to-late-twenties. But it does mean that age gaps (as long as they’re legal) aren’t something I’ll be bothered by or judgemental of.)

Kiseki: Dear to Me is one of my favorite series because:

It’s from Taiwan, and the Taiwanese QLs are generally great at dealing with more difficult and taboo topics.

Ai Di is the feistiest, most colorful, and pettiest bitch and I love him with my entire ice-cold heart.

Chen Yi looks amazing in black.

The neon lights (because I’m a slut for that).

Also, the kissing (from both couples) is great.

You know, I did say that these would be series/films I absolutely do not recommend you watch. But I’ll actually recommend this one. Watch it. It’s great.

Unknown (Taiwan)

Issues/TW: Age gap, “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers, etc.

This is another one I’ll actually recommend you watch because it’s great.

The main couple (Qian and Yuan) are the “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers while the age gap is most prominent between San Pang (Qian’s business partner) and Lili (Qian’s younger sister). There’s also the fact that San Pang is part of their chosen family and has seen Lili grow up and stuff. So, if that bothers you, then don’t watch it.

The biggest reasons I would personally recommend it to those I know aren’t particularly bothered by taboo topics are because:

The yearning is palpable (and I love shit like that).

Qian would move heaven and earth for his family.

The great story.

The even more amazing acting.

Some moments made me bawl (and since I'm an ice queen, I get obsessed with shit that shatters my ice and makes me cry).

I know I said my taste is trashy… but I would actually give myself a gold star for loving this one.

Now, back to the real trash…

Love in the Air (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, rape, MAME, etc.

Everyone and their aunt (or however the saying goes in English) seem to have an issue with MAME (the original creator of LITA and several other trashy BLs) and for good reason. (I would say that she improved a lot with Wedding Plan, which is the least problematic thing I’ve watched from her and it’s the latest series of hers, as of right now.) If she’s grown, remains to be seen. But it doesn’t change the fact that LITA has some issues.

Honestly, I just watch this for the visuals, as in the motorcycles and the neon lights. That’s it. That’s the reason.

I mean, if you look at the whole first sex scene between Sky and Prapai, you get what I mean with the neon lights. It’s divine. (I recently rewatched LITA for this very reason. A waste of time, you say? Not when you’re a slut for neon lights.)

Don’t watch this though! Just enjoy this gif instead…

I just saved you 13-ish hours of your life. You’re welcome.

TharnType and TharnType 2: 7 Years of Love (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, homophobia, domestic violence, MAME, etc.

Don’t watch this. This is bad. As in, really bad. And all the issues are in the main couple’s relationship.

But, since my taste is really bad, I rewatched this recently for horny reasons (it’s Mew, after all, and he’s got me in a chokehold for some reason). It’s still as bad as I remembered it, but I would still rewatch it for Mew’s sake (and because Techno is ridiculous throughout both seasons, which means I love him).

To be fair there are other, a lot spicier, series that I watch more often for horny reasons (yes, some of them are in this post because they’re trashy too), but none of them include Mew. And since I have to get my dose of Mew from time to time, I return to TharnType (especially the second season).

Big Dragon (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, blackmail, etc.

This isn’t that problematic in my opinion, but there is definitely a drug-induced sexcapade that’s taped and used for blackmail for a while. And that's how the series starts.

I recently did a rewatch of this and it was still bad (in a good way) and I loved every second of it.

What I love about this series are:

The visuals. The set designs are beautiful (especially Yai’s home and the bar, before he demolishes it). As a visual artist, this is speaking to my soul.

The chemistry between Yai and Mangkorn.

Pong and Park. Two idiots I love with my whole ice-cold heart.

And the title track because it’s addictive as hell to listen to.

Also, the sex (which my horny ass needs). Let's not forget the sex. Those scenes were also visually stunning, which made me love them even more.

Honestly, I'll kneel and bow down to this shit because it's that great.

Don’t trust my judgment, though, because my taste is trashy.

Only Friends (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Manipulation, stalking, promiscuity, etc.

This series is messy in terms of intrigue (especially from Boston and then Boeing’s part). The ending had some issues. The sex isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, either. I, on the other hand, would drink a whole pot of this.

Overall, I loved this trash. Mainly because of:

How visually stunning it is.

Sand. He’s a hardworking, good person. He’s also a proud bi!

How they depicted and handled Ray’s addiction and recovery. (I know some watchers were upset that the focus of the series landed on Sand and Ray towards the end while neglecting the other characters, which is a valid point. However, setting that aside, the way they portrayed Ray’s addiction and then his road to recovery in the last couple of episodes was realistic, and I loved it.)

The promiscuity, because I loved it and the mess it created.

Boston being a slutty asshole. The more of a slutty asshole he was, the more I loved him. (I know, it’s a me-problem.)

Boeing coming in and kissing (almost) everyone.

It’s trashy, it’s messy, and I love it!

But, I don’t recommend it to anyone.

My Beautiful Man 1, 2, and 3 Eternal (Japan)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, obsession, bullying, lack of (or no real) communication, etc.

I love this series (2 seasons + 1 film), but I honestly don’t see it as particularly problematic. But I know others will disagree with me, so here it is on my list of trashy QLs.

I don’t mind Hira’s obsession because I know Kiyoi is just as whipped for Hira (even though he doesn’t know how to communicate it to Hira at first, especially in a way that Hira understands). Would I be okay with someone’s obsession and stalking in real life? Of course not. But, as I mentioned before, I’m mature enough to separate fiction from reality.

Also, I love miscommunicating characters, especially when the misunderstandings they create bring out all the emotions (angst, hurt, anger, sadness, embarrassment, etc.) and even the flight response. I especially love miscommunicating characters when they learn to communicate throughout the series/film. And this series is especially delicious on the miscommunicating part.

But, it’s also problematic, apparently. So, don’t watch it.

The End of the World With You (Japan)

Issues/TW: Blackmail, biphobia, cheating, etc.

I’ll be honest and say that I’ve only watched this series three times. And that’s because the biphobia is fucking annoying. In this series, the bi character is depicted as a cheater (which is common in QLs, btw). It’s an exasperating stereotype. Cheating has nothing to do with your sexuality and everything to do with who you are as a person.

(I mean, you can be a proud bi like Payu in LITA or Sand in OF. They have eyes only for one person as soon as they’re pursuing or dating someone. Give me more bi characters like this, please.)

We could discuss how cheating can be used as characterization in certain stories. But not in this one. Here, they’re basically using Ritsu’s bisexuality as the reason he’s cheating (since he’s sleeping with Masumi while having a thing going on with a girl, and then sleeping with a girl when he has a thing with Masumi), which is why it’s bothering me in this series.

If I’m going to tell you why I like this series, however, it’s for 2 reasons:

It’s about getting a second chance, a topic I love.

The sex (laser-focused horny Ritsu is my favorite Ritsu).

Check Out (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Biphobia, cheating, lazy writing, etc.

(It should be mentioned that I’ve read some comments about some issues involving the company behind this series. I haven’t dug deeper into this so I don’t really know if there’s any substance to the comments I’ve read (like official statements from the company or the other people involved, etc.). But I’m putting this out there in case this might be a potential issue for you (even though I’ve already told you that I don’t recommend you watch any of these because they’re all trashy).)

When I first checked this out at the beginning of this year, this series seemed to have created a storm of bad comments and reviews on MDL since it first came out. So, obviously, I needed to watch it because my taste is trashy.

And, you know what? I loved it!

Besides having the bi character depicted as a cheater (again, the use of this biphobic stereotype is so fucking annoying) and the sporadic clunky and stale scenes, I loved this series because:

It’s about second chances. As I mentioned before, I love that topic.

Best (the actor playing Daonuea) is the best in this series. There’s just something about him that grabs my attention every time. He has me in a similarly tight chokehold as Mew.

There’s sex (and my horny ass needs it).

But, it’s also trash, so don’t watch it.

Pit Babe (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Domestic violence, non-consensual, SA, age gap, etc.

This became popular. Really popular. I saw people comment about it everywhere. And usually, when stuff becomes popular, it’s more than likely reduced to trash quality by the general public. So, obviously, I had to watch it.

Did I end up loving it? Yes.

Honestly, the biggest issue this series had for me was the whole omegaverse thing (this was a new thing for me because I don’t come from an erotic fiction background, my head was rather stuck in fantasy fiction). And, from my limited understanding of this, they didn’t seem to fully commit to the omegaverse thing in Pit Babe, which was unfortunate.

The racing was also so-so for me, which hurt my soul because I usually love racing (cars, mcs, boats, etc.).

What I did like, however, was:

The chemistry between Pete and Kenta (and I’m so sad I only got crumbs of this).

Pavel (the actor playing Babe). I would watch and listen to him recite product placement scripts for toothpaste all day long.

The sex, especially the scene with Babe and Charlie in ep. 9 (even though it was mixed with clips from the racing) and Jeff and Alan’s scene in ep. 13 (because it was sensual, if we ignore the music).

The neon lights (have I mentioned that I’m a slut for neon lights?). I mean, just look at this:

I can watch that pinkish light all day long, even though Babe and Charlie are trying to distract me. (Especially Pavel!)

Dead Friend Forever (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Grooming, bullying, suicide & suicide attempts, etc.

Besides the issues listed above, this also suffered from lazy writing at the end. BUT, I fucking loved DFF anyway.

I never expected to love this series because it’s just a bunch of teenagers stuck at a house in the woods. How interesting could that be? Turns out, very.

DFF wasn’t perfect (perfection doesn’t exist anyway), but what I loved about it was:

The morally ambiguous characters.

The revenge plot.

The poetic justice.

The questioning of what was real vs hallucination.

The visually stunning shots.

The mask!

And Tan’s mask!

The beheading scene.

I could go on, but you get the point. I just love this piece of trash.

But, please, don’t watch it. You will suffer from brain rot. Trust me.

I, however, am currently rewatching this because I choose the brain rot. And my taste is trashy, remember? Or, perhaps I just love watching chaos unfold…

HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count (Taiwan)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, age gap, tragic ending, etc.

Everyone and their aunt and even their dog have an issue with the ending of this one. And it’s understandable.

I don’t necessarily like or dislike the ending. Obviously, the bury your gays trope is tragic in itself, and, tragically, it’s still being used. That’s why I couldn’t find myself liking the ending, even though I don’t mind tragic endings. (Romeo and Juliet is one of my favorite classics, which people tend to forget is a tragedy and not a romance, btw, but I digress…)

At the same time, though, this series made me cry for a whole episode before tragedy struck because I could feel it. And you have no idea how obsessed I get about shit that makes me cry (since I’m an ice queen).

(Another side note: one of my favorite BLs is Once Again, which made me bawl throughout the whole series. It’s not on this list because it’s neither trashy nor bad, but it’s still one of my favorites because it broke me in the best ways. But, anyway…)

The best part of this series from beginning to end was the other couple, at least for me. This couple is the one with the age gap (which, again, doesn’t bother me) and I fucking love them! One, because Wilson Liu (the actor playing Bo Xiang) is such a gem. Second, because their first time was such a spur-of-the-moment thing fueled by a desire that went from 0-100kph in less time than a Ferrari would. And I loved it (just as much as the squeezing of boobs from behind, which, for some reason, appeals to me).

Also, the twins are so pretty it’s annoying.

Do I recommend it, though? No, because I don’t have time to respond to the clap back I’ll get when you come to the end.

HIStory 4: Close to You (Taiwan)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, obsession, age gap, stepbrothers becoming lovers, etc.

This one has some problems (especially the relationship between Yong Jie and Xing Si), but I love both the series and its problems (yes, I’m trash). You could say that I’m as obsessed with this series as Yong Jie is with Xing Si. Would I get this series drunk and fuck the living daylights out of it? No. But I would watch it once every 3 months or so. Oh, wait… I already do that. Because I’m trash.

What do I love so much about this series (other than what I mentioned above):

It’s from Taiwan.

Li Cheng is ridiculous, which is exactly why I love him.

Every time I rewatch it, it gets funnier.

The chemistry between Li Cheng and Teng Teng is amazing.

As well as the chemistry between Yong Jie and Xing Si.

The kissing is just as amazing.

The main fujoshi girl, Mei Fang, is so cute I can’t handle her.

And the bathroom scene! In that lighting! It’s iconic!

I don’t care what anyone else says. This is fucking gold to me. But, then again, my taste is trash. So, don’t listen to me.

KinnPorsche (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, torture, Stockholm syndrome-ish, etc.

This is some next-level trash, and I fucking love it.

Two of the major relationships in this series (Kinn & Porsche and Vegas & Pete) are problematic at some point. Especially Vegas and Pete who have this whole captor/captive, torture, BDSM-ish type relationship. Of course, I love Vegas and Pete because my taste is super trashy (yes, it’s a me-problem, but I don’t force my taste on other people, so, for the love of all that is holy, don’t watch this!).

Other reasons I love this series and rewatch it from time to time:

It’s visually stunning! The cinematography is amazing. As I mentioned before, I’m a visual artist, so this is a very valid reason for me to watch it again and again. And again.

The neon lights.

The whole mafia thing.

The sex (because my horny ass needs it).

Playboyy (Thailand)

Issues/TW: SA, homophobia, suicide, etc.

I was debating whether or not to add this to my list solely based on the ending. However, up until that point, I really liked it.

The fact that every episode starts with a whole ass list of trigger warnings tells me this is my shit. And it was.

At times, it was so bad that it was good (until the ending, which was just so bad it was bad). The things I liked were:

The mystery.

Win (who played Nuth). His acting was great.

The chemistry between Nuth and Phop.

The tattooed daddy that’s Aob and his chemistry with Puen (there’s also an age gap here, btw, but as I’ve mentioned before, it’s fine by me as long as it’s legal).

The weird ass sex scenes (and the underwear).

And the not so weird ass sex scenes (like the ones between Aob and Puen and the ones between Nuth and Phop).

But, this series is trashy. Keep as far away from it as possible. If you still decide to dip in, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Red Wine in the Dark Night (Thailand)

Issues/TW: Obsession, blood, human blood bags, etc.

This is a queer film that’s BL-ish with some dark themes. Mainly, it’s about how far Wine would go to help the person he’s fallen for (or become attached to).

What I loved about this film was:

Fluke (who plays Wine). He’s such a great actor and I love him in everything he does.

Wine who is so desperate to love someone and be loved that he ends up doing some weird shit.

The darker and sadder vibe, which I love.

Irresistible Love 1 and Irresistible Love 2 (China)

(This is also called Uncontrolled Love.) 

Issues/TW: Obsession, homophobia, codependency, adoptive brothers becoming lovers, etc.

This is another queer film (in two parts) that is more BL-ish than the films I’m getting into below.

This depicts a weird relationship dynamic between Xie Yan and Shu Nian where Shu Nian was basically adopted into the family to become Xie Yan’s friend/babysitter/lackey. This is some weird ass shit, and I love weird ass shit so I really enjoyed this rare, uncensored, gem from China.

But, it’s also trashy. So, don’t watch it.

The next couple of films I’ll mention are (obviously) trashy, but also complex and deep (which is why I love them).

One Summer Night (South Korea)

Issues/TW: Obsession, dependency, oppression, etc.

This is a low-budget film from 2016 (so, production-wise, it’s definitely nothing like the usual stuff from South Korea you can watch on Netflix), but I love it.

It’s gritty, it’s raw, it’s explicit (an emphasis on explicit because you’ll see dicks), it deals with being a North Korean defector but ending up in an impoverished situation in South Korea, and it ends with a dubious ending you can interpret in different ways.

This is definitely not for the general QL viewers who watch QLs for the cutesy stuff.

And it's trashy. So, don’t watch it.

Dangerous Drugs of Sex (Japan)

Issues/TW: All the trigger warnings! Seriously. I feel like it’s better to say that so you’ll look up the TWs for yourself (if you choose to watch this, which I'm asking you not to) rather than me mentioning a few and forgetting others.

With this film, what others see are all the trigger warnings (and, yes, I see them too, they’re fucking obvious). However, I can see beyond that and watch it for what it is at the core: Two characters dealing with incredible grief.

Grief is a topic that often affects me and I can relate to it because I’ve had to deal with a lot of grief in my relatively short life. Watching a film like this where grief pushes the characters to their very limits will (often) get a special place in my heart, especially if done well. And it’s done very well in this film.

Do I condone the characters’ behaviors? No (especially not Yoden Ryoji’s). But I do understand that grief can send you over the edge (and in some cases throw you off the edge) because I’ve experienced it. I do understand that grief can cause you to make horrible decisions because I’ve done it (though, not this extreme). I do understand that grief can be self-destructive because I’ve been there. This film shows it all. That’s why I love it so much.

Do I recommend you watch this, tough? No. Don’t do it. This is not for everyone. It’s definitely not for those who watch QLs for the cutesy stuff.

But it is for me because I love trash. Especially good trash. And this is the best trash I’ve ever seen when it comes to gay films.

Anything by Scud Cheng

Lastly, I want to mention any film by Scud Cheng because…

And I’m an artist so art means everything to me.

Cheng is a screenwriter and director from Hong Kong. His films, the ones I’ve seen, are gritty, nude, and real. They are more on the art side than the others I’ve listed above, which is why they have a special place in my heart.

They’re also deep and explore themes like introspection (are we doing things because we believe they’re the right thing to do, or because external forces have “brainwashed” us to believe they’re the normal thing to do?), the porn industry and how it exploits young and queer men, death, politics, and love, to name a few.

These are not for the average QL watcher. They’re not for the faint of heart. They’re not for those who want an entertaining watch.

These films require multiple viewings. I’ve watched some once, some twice, and some more times, and I still find new themes and meanings woven into the stories. So, they’re complex and deep.

But, don’t watch them because I know you’ll come at me later. So, to spare us both the time and energy it would take to argue about this shit, just don’t watch any of it.

Now, if you still want to ask me for recommendations after all that, don't tell me I didn't warn you!

#kiseki: dear to me #unknown #unknown the series #love in the air the series #tharntype #big dragon the series #only friends the series #the end of the world with you #my beautiful man #utsukushii kare #check out the series #pit babe the series #dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #dff #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #history 3: make our days count #history 3: modc #history 4: close to you #playboyy the series #red wine in the dark night #irresistible love #uncontrolled love #one summer night #dangerous drugs of sex #taiwanese ql #taiwanese bl #taiwanese series #thai ql

[weaveandwood]

Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Three

Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read Part One | Read Part Two | Read on AO3

Summary:

Over a year after their relationship ends, fate brings the couple back together for one too-short night.

The sun set and the moon rose in the night sky without a sign of Gale. She was once again confronted with her demons, whispering in her ear about his habit of getting so lost in his own work and focused on his own ambitions that he left her alone, adrift, and purposeless in the aftermath of their adventure and again now. Her only solution then had been to run, leaving him and the biggest piece of her heart behind. Those demons tugged at her another time. She wasn’t strong enough to resist them. I can’t do this. 

AN: The final installment is here! Thank everyone so much for all your support on this mini series. I hope you love it as much as I do, and I'm sorry for ripping out your hearts along the way. CN: Suggestive language, mild descriptions of panic

The first Midwinter was spent in reverence of each other. They watched the annual fireworks from his balcony and stayed up until the dawn began its ascent over the horizon. Hours were spent relearning each other’s bodies and minds after being strangers for so long. She spoke of her jobs, the contracts she accepted, the locations she visited as he kissed her neck in that one spot that was her undoing and his hands worked his way up her thighs. He spoke of his apprentices, new spells he was crafting, his colleagues turned friends while she kissed the faint remnants of the orb tattoo on his chest, her hand trailing down the line of his stomach. He worshiped her throughout the night and she accepted his offerings gladly.

While the sun rose, she lay in his arms, head on his bare chest as they made plans to spend next Midwinter together. 

Dangerous. Tempting. Stupid.

He cast an illusion to make it snow in what used to be the bedroom they shared, just to see the smile on her face that would no doubt satisfy him for another year. She kept the longing she had to stay with him locked away deep inside, remembering the tormented look on his face the previous night when he ran to her. She couldn’t be the cause of that again, she didn’t trust herself with his heart.

They both wept after they parted. 

**

The second Midwinter, they met in the market - the first time Gale had been in almost two years. They got sweet rolls and held hands as they walked to the inn he reserved for them this holiday. They barely got into the room before their bodies collided and their clothes ended up in a wrinkled pile on the floor, not wanting an inch of space to come between them on their one, too-short night together where she was his and he was hers, though both confessed there was no one else during their time apart. 

She asked for another illusion as he traced his fingers up and down her bare back, the muscles and small scars from so many adventures illuminated by the moonlight. He made the room fill with small glowing rabbits, her favorite animal. 

“You remembered.” “How could I ever forget anything about you?”

He gifted her a sending stone that was modified to only relay a signal when the pair were within a certain distance from each other, so he would know she was near, that she was safe at least one day a year. He kept its partner with him at all times - if not in his pocket, then within arm’s reach, counting down the days until he could feel the trace hum of magic that said she was close, that she was coming back to him. She always kept the stone in her pack or under her pillow as she slept in the wilds and reminisced about stolen moments in tents with him. 

***

The third Midwinter, the sending stone in his pocket flickered to life a day earlier than expected, before the sunrise. He met her at the gates of the city full of concern, but she relieved his fears by explaining she had extra time this year and could stay this additional day, if he wanted. Of course he wanted! He was elated as they walked back to the tower, but had to finish up the term today. He kissed her deeply and promised to be back by sunset, a familiar line she had heard plenty before.

Hours ticked by in quiet solitude. The walls of the tower closed in on her and the sounds of the city aggravated instead of soothed. The sun set and the moon rose in the night sky without a sign of Gale. She was once again confronted with her demons, whispering in her ear about his habit of getting so lost in his own work and focused on his own ambitions that he left her alone, adrift, and purposeless in the aftermath of their adventure and again now. Her only solution then had been to run, leaving him and the biggest piece of her heart behind. Those demons tugged at her another time. She wasn’t strong enough to resist them.

I can’t do this. 

The day had completely gotten away from him - he didn’t realize how late it had become as he rushed home after a long day of examinations and meetings with fellow professors. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of spending two nights with the love of his life, lost in memory and passion. 

He called out to her as he walked in, receiving no response. The tower was empty. His breathing quickened as he collapsed against the wall in the entry, sinking to the floor. A cold panic took over as he found himself alone, reliving that first day all those years ago. He ran his shaking hands through his hair, looking for a note, a sign, anything…and found no trace of her. 

She’s not here.

She didn’t come back that night. The next morning, he ignored the faint buzzing from the stone as he walked to Blackstaff to finish some paperwork before properly starting his holiday as he did every year, though this year it was more of a distraction than anything. He came home late to find a package on his doorstep - a small silver moon earring to wear in the empty piercing where Mystra’s symbol used to reside with a note that read “Be a moon unto yourself.” He could feel her watching but went inside anyway. He tucked the parcel in the same drawer with her ring and extinguished all the lights in his tower, wearily retreating to his study. 

She sat across the street from the tower huddled in her coat, crying through the fireworks until the early morning. Something broke inside her that night, deeper than what already was fractured. 

I’m sorry. 

****

The fourth Midwinter, he received a delivery at his office in Blackstaff Academy. Inside was a sending stone, almost exactly like the one he had gotten her two years ago. His heart beat faster - was she returning it? Was this goodbye? Had the last Midwinter ruined them? They hadn’t spoken but at times he felt his original stone humming, knowing she was near Waterdeep on a few occasions over the last year, resisting the urge to go to the gates each time for a glimpse of her. 

He felt the familiar crackle of magic as he inspected the parcel. No, this one is a different stone, he thought with relief, hearing her voice when he touched it for the first time.

I love you. I’m here. Meet me outside of the city if you can forgive me.

His eyes filled with tears, replying with the only message he could ever respond to her with.

I love you.

She smiled to herself as she heard his warm voice in her head. I love you. It was the first time they had said it to each other in so long - even before she had left him. A flicker of hope surged within her. She met him at the gates as the sun set, grabbing his robes and pulling him to her to kiss him deeply before he even had a chance to say hello. There was so much to say, so much to confess, and so little time. She took his hand and led him away from the city, deep into the woods off the main road where she had set up a tent for them, a campfire waiting. He moved to kiss her, to begin their usual dance of removing clothes and grasping at each other to stave off the chill in the air and the loneliness in their hearts. He longed to touch her, to feel himself inside her again. 

She stopped him. 

He listened as she told him about her next adventure on the other side of the continent. How she purchased the new sending stones because she wanted to hear his voice in her head every day when she would be so far from him. How after last Midwinter, she wanted to move forward and not spend every moment together thinking about the hurts of the past. How she realized the irony of her saying that while sitting in a campsite that was reminiscent of the one they shared all those years ago. How she was ready, finally, to offer more and hoped he would accept. 

“I love you, Gale.”  She’s real. “I love you, too.” She’s here.

The Midwinter fireworks from Waterdeep looked especially beautiful that night as they made love underneath them. 

*****

The fifth Midwinter, she met him at the gates of the city, his message this morning running through her head. Meet me at the gates at our usual time. I have a surprise for you. I love you. 

Every day they sent each other a message through the stones. Every first message ended with “I love you.” Every reply started with “I love you.”

He was practically buzzing when he saw her, drawing her tightly into his embrace, just as he did that night four years ago when she came back into his life by a chance of fate - and yes, after that night he most certainly was a bigger believer in fate. She was safe, she was here, and she loved him. He led her to the woods, the same spot she set up their campsite the previous year. In its place was a small cabin surrounded by wildness, enchanted to be invisible to everyone but the two of them. 

He needed her like air, but he refused to suffocate her with that need - not with traditional roles or expectations, not with her always having to adjust to fit into his life, his routine, his schedule, never the other way around. He wanted to fit into her life. She was the moon, she was the stars, she was the sky. She was precious to him, more important to him than even the Weave. He didn’t need anything but her - not his tower, not his accolades…just her. He loved her, and saw her, and understood what she was capable of offering. This cabin, he hoped, would be proof of that, and would be their home when she was between contracts, between adventures. 

She cried as he said all of this to her with tears streaming down his own smiling face. He held out the silver ring he had purchased for her all those years ago. She couldn’t believe he had kept it safe, looked after it as if he knew she would be back. They were different people then. They were different people now. After all this time, he remained devoted to her, steadfast, even as she pushed and pulled, clawing at the boundaries of his love. She believed him - for the first time, she felt understood. She was understood. He knew her, he was safe, he was here, and he loved her. She knew there could never be anyone else for either of them. He was her home. This was her home.

They kissed as he slipped the ring onto her finger. 

******

The sixth Midwinter, Gale found himself looking out the window of their cabin watching the snow while he prepared their dinner for the evening, replaying their messages from that morning in his head. 

I will be home at sunset. Will be with you for a month. I love you.

I love you. Please hurry back to me, I cannot bear to be apart from you much longer.

He laughed softly to himself. Home. If you had asked him five years ago, while he was bereft and reeling, what he thought home was he would have told you a study full of books, a desk littered with parchment, and a full wine cellar. Now? Home was the smile she gave him when he cast illusions. Home was the way she laid her head on his lap when he read to her, no matter the subject. Home was the way she brought him tea and kissed the top of his head as he stayed up late, working on new spells and theories by candlelight. Home was the sound of her voice calling his name as his mouth was between her thighs. Home was a tiny cabin hidden deep in the woods. 

He twirled the silver ring on his own finger, the twin to hers. He had felt the hum of the original sending stone only a few months after their last Midwinter, during Greengrass. He rushed to the cabin after classes were completed for the day, wondering why she hadn’t told him anything through their messaging stones, wondering if the original stones were malfunctioning. He had no sooner opened the door before she pulled him in and kissed him deeply. He led her to the bedroom, both of them shedding layers of clothing along the way as they reunited. Later that evening, she lazily ran her fingers through his hair as the dancing lights he cast hovered over them, lighting the room in a beautiful pale blue glow. 

“Marry me, Gale.”

They were married that week in a small ceremony, only Tara and Morena in attendance, though once word got out, many congratulations poured in from all over the Sword Coast. She had left later that week, and now she was finally coming home. He glanced at the bags he had brought from the tower, full of work and tomes, and contemplated putting them away before he felt his favorite hum of magic in all the world. 

She stood in front of their cabin, looking in through the window at him. Her eyes watered, whether from joy or the wind she couldn’t say, but she’d blame the wind anyway. Four small glowing rabbits hopped around at her feet and led her to the door. 

“Welcome home, my love.”

#bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfiction #gale fic #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria #my writing #midwinter in waterdeep #baldur’s gate 3 #I don't know how to express how happy i am with this and i hope everyone else is too

[hollowed-theory-hall]

What do you think about Hermione? Love her? Hate her? Any thoughts about her being given the time Turner? Because that's what made me dislike her. There's literally no way it makes sense for her to have that other than favouritism from Dumbledore. Because if they were really willing to give out time turners to any smart kid, Barty Crouch Jr. and Tom Riddle should also have gotten time turners.

Okay, there are two parts for this answer. The first part is that I got to defend Hermione on the Time Turner bit because it's not her fault Dumbledore plays favorites.

I'm pretty sure Dumbledore knew Sirius was innocent all along (or at least suspected it) and intended Harry and Hermione to have all the means to help him at their disposal.

“Dumbledore just said — just said we could save more than one innocent life. . . .” And then it hit him. “Hermione, we’re going to save Buckbeak!” “But — how will that help Sirius?” “Dumbledore said — he just told us where the window is — the window of Flitwick’s office! Where they’ve got Sirius locked up! We’ve got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue Sirius! Sirius can escape on Buckbeak — they can escape together!”

(PoA, page 395)

They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid’s back door. “One moment, please, Macnair,” came Dumbledore’s voice. “You need to sign too.” The footsteps stopped.

(PoA, page 401)

The back in time Dumbledore, before he sent Harry and Hermione back in time, seems almost too aware of what's going on. Even though he hasn't sent them back in time yet. So, I'm suspicious he had a plan there.

“Where is it?” said the reedy voice of the Committee member. “Where is the beast?” “It was tied here!” said the executioner furiously. “I saw it! Just here!” “How extraordinary,” said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in his voice.

(PoA, page 402)

But even if Dumbledore didn't plan Sirius' escape and the Time Turner shenanigans, it's not Hermione's fault Dumbledore wanted her to have a Time Turner. Honestly, it's good she had it for Sirius' sake, but Dumbledore's favoritism isn't on her. I feel it's wrong to blame her for a decision that wasn't hers. It was Dumbledore's and McGonagall's decision to give Hermione a Time Turner and not to other students. We don't even know how common Time Turners are for students (my guess is not at all, and Hermione wasn't supposed to have one, but that's a different post), but it was still a decision completely out of Hermione's hands.

As for the second part, which is my opinion on Hermione:

I like Hermione, she isn't in my top favorite characters, but I do like her. She's interesting, adds contrast to Ron and Harry and I related to her a lot when I was younger.

I hate what the movies did to her. They stripped her of everything that made her interesting and made her this perfect figure who always knew what to do which Hermione just isn't. Hermione tends to panic and stress out in the books often. It's often Harry who comes up with last-minute plans under pressure.

And yes, she's smart, but she isn't always the cleverest or wisest (I'll say Ron has the most common sense in the Trio), and a lot of times she doesn't think her plans through (like with Umbridge, the centaurs, and Gwamp. She didn't plan anything other than not wanting to see Harry in pain). And that's an interesting character flaw for her to have. And she knows this about herself. I mean, she says herself there's more to magic than just reading books.

And book Hermione really loves Harry and Ron and appreciates their cleverness compared to movie Hermione who's just done with both of them and their idiocy constantly. Which is a disservice to the Golden Trio's friendship. All three are really smart in different ways. and the three of them know this (sorta, Harry has really low self-esteem so he doesn't think he's smart).

My biggest grief with Hermione's character in the books was always her complete faith in authority she trusts. Throughout the series, Hermione is the one of the Trio who always speaks up that they should trust Dumbledore and do what Dumbledore says because she respects him. Hermione, once she respects an authority figure, she tends to just have full faith in them and their judgment. And that really got on my nerves sometimes. But again, that's an interesting character flaw that contrasts Harry and Ron and creates an interesting dynamic. It's a character flaw that is an extension of Hermione's loyalty. I think her loyalty is a trait that is often downplayed too, but she is so loyal. Like, once she decides you have her loyalty you could do pretty much anything and she'll try to justify you. She'll make excuses and justifications so people she's loyal to are in the right.

And she does this justification with her own actions too. I like Hermione's ruthlessness that is so often ignored. She:

Set Snape on fire as a 1st year (but, yeah she loves all authority *sarcasm*)

Kept Rita Skeeter in a jar

Marietta Edgcomb (the curse on the DA parchment in general)

Came up with the DA coins and told Harry she got inspiration from the Dark Mark:

Harry looked sideways at Hermione. “You know what these remind me of?” “No, what’s that?” “The Death Eaters’ scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and they know they’ve got to join him.” “Well . . . yes,” said Hermione quietly. “That is where I got the idea . . . but you’ll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our members’ skin. . . .”

(OotP, 399)

6. Confounded Cormac McLaggen so Ron would get the Keeper position.

7. Basically everything she did in Deathly Hollows, I'm not listing all of it.

And there are more I'm probably forgetting!

The point is, Hermione is ruthless when she wants to be. She's not to be trifled with.

I think her loyalty, as I mentioned above, is a very distinctive trait of her character. She didn't have friends before Hogwarts (she was probably bullied for being a know-it-all. Like, it shows in her behavior) and she latched onto Harry and Ron and has been incredibly devoted to their friendship since. She's not only devoted to her friends but invested in keeping Harry and Ron as her friends (and each other's freinds).

And she actually is really smart. Yes, book smart, she can memorize books like a pro, but she's also a really good puzzle solver. From the riddle in the obstacle course in 1st year, figuring out the basilisk, finding out Lupin's a werewolf, figuring out Rita's Animagus form, etc... Hermione is really good at organizing information and putting the puzzle pieces together. And that's before I mentioned her magical talent, from brewing Pulyjuice Potion (a complex and advanced potion) in 2nd year in the girls' bathroom to usually being the first in class to get spells right.

Hermione's desire to know everything, as I mentioned in another post, I think is an extension of her desire to belong. She arrives in a new world as a muggleborn, and she takes each and every chance she gets to learn about the Wizarding World. To appear as if she was always there. Because she wants to be a witch so badly she doesn't mind Obliviating her parents and sending them to Australia.

I have more thoughts, but I'm just blabbering...

So, Hermione, while not in my top five, is an interesting and flawed character that I like a lot.

#harry potter #hp #hermione granger analysis #hermione granger #hp meta #harry potter meta #asks #anon asks #anonymous

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Promised Land

Elks Chapter 7

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Joel takes you out of Jackson for the first time in five years, he makes it well worth it. Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex in the wilderness, apocalypse birth control, there are two scenes I constantly think about (one with Joel's hair and the leaves and one with a drop water... enjoy), reader is an anxious girl, discussion of grief and child loss, softness softness softness. Words: 3,600 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist

*** “With Arms Outstretched” by Rilo Kiley. 

“Sweetheart,” Joel’s deep voice whispers against your ear. “You gotta get up."

“Mmf,” you groan, bringing your comforter up higher to cover your head, “it’s early.”

“I know,” he lowers the blanket, “but we need to get going, we’re fighting against the daylight.”

“You sure I have to do this?”

“Yes, I’m sure, it’ll be worth it, trust me.”

“Ugh,” you sit up and yawn, “if you say so.” 

——

Your lungs inhale your first breath of air from outside the safety of Jackson’s gates since your arrival five years ago. Why did you ever agree to let Joel convince you to do this? You love your stereo, but is it worth the anxiety you’re currently feeling? You don’t even know where he’s taking you. A surprise? Really? Your life has become very comfortable and predictable within the safe walls of Jackson, you like that. How in the world is this going to be worth leaving?

“You’re okay, I’m here with you. You’re being so brave sweetheart,” Joel’s reassurance gruffly whispered in your ear as his strong arms hold the reins of his horse framing you. The only comfort of today is feeling his big body pressed up against you acting as a makeshift security blanket. 

You admit, you forgot how different and vastly open the outside world is. Serenity everywhere stretching well past your eyesight, your anxious thoughts of the hazards that lay beyond marring the sights you haven’t seen in so long. Tall clumps of grass, even taller trees, beautiful yellow and purple flowers smattered throughout the forest floor. You only imagined this type of beauty in your sketchbook, now it’s all laid out in front of you. 

“It’s so gorgeous out here. Everything is so green.”

“Sure is. Wait until you see the flowers on the hillside.”

“How far are we going?” 

“Down this road a bit and down another trail, was just here this week on patrol and made sure to check everything out. No signs of anything, haven’t seen anyone or any infected around here in months. I’ve got you sweetheart.”

He’s so patient. You need to be brave for him. So, you muster up enough courage and remind yourself you have the most capable man who loves you and wants nothing but the best for you. 

“I forgot how tall trees can get, is that stupid to say?”

“Not at all, you haven’t been out here in a long time. Today is going to be fun, something I’m excited for you to do, going to get you used to being outside.”

“It’s not as bad as I thought. I’m still terrified but at least I have you.” “You’ll always have me,” he says barely above a whisper.

You smile and lean your head against his chest, hearing Joel’s breaths huff out in sync with his horse’s canter.

——

“Almost there,” Joel’s voice takes you out of your daze. 

You enjoy the peaceful scenery as you turn down a trail, looking out beyond the forest you spot a large body of water past the tree line.

“Is that a la—lake?” You croak out, your voice squeaking with excitement.

“Sure is. Perfect for swimming,” he kisses the edge of your cheek. “Taught Ellie to swim here just last month.”

“Oh my god. Really? I can swim?”

“You can. We have the whole day. Brought everything we’ll need.”

“A swimsuit?” 

“Well, no. You can swim in your underwear… or nothin’.”

“I can swim in my underwear.”

Joel brings his horse to a stop at the shore, dropping the reigns and wrapping his arms around you.

“You like it sweetheart?”

“So much Joel, it’s so beautiful.”

“Good,” he kisses your cheek, “I’m glad.”

The lake is gorgeous. Serene dark blue water gently lapping at the shore, water reflecting all of the sunlight shining down from the sky. Trees rock in the gentle breeze against the blue sky. 

Joel helps you down from his horse, your feet hit the ground of the outside world for the first time in years, your worry increasing with each step you take towards the water. 

“What happens if someone sees us?” You hate that you can’t allow yourself to enjoy this beautiful moment that Joel has created for you.

“We’re okay here, I have a gun and we haven’t spotted anyone over here in a long time,” Joel says as he hitches his horse to a tree. “I’ve been in the lake a few times now, Tommy and Maria come here all the time. We’ll be alright.”

“I’m sorry I get like this, I do really love it Joel. Thank you.”

“I know darlin’, I know this is a lot for you, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m proud of you for doing this.” 

“I know you won’t," you look towards the water, you’ve missed it so much. “I love you so much,” you breathe out before inhaling the sweet scent of the pine forest, fresh water, and wet dirt. 

“Love you too,” he walks over, backpack slung over his shoulder.

He looks so confident, so sure of himself. You love that about him. This is his domain, what he knows best… the outside. He is a protector of Jackson, and most of all he is your protector.  

He pulls two towels out of his bag and lays them on a large boulder to warm in the sun.

“You want to get in? Can’t wait to see your hair and skin all wet and shiny.”

“Please,” you smile. The anticipation sends a happy chill through your body.

You look over at Joel as he sheds his jacket. Your eyes stare as you watch him, his head down focusing on unbuttoning his denim shirt. He looks up with an eyebrow crooked at your attention as he takes it off. Lord, he’s so golden in this the sunlight, his skin practically glowing from the rays bouncing off the water. Broad chest you love to lay your head against, strong arms you love to have wrapped around you, soft belly that juts a little over his jeans meaning he’s fed and healthy. He takes your breath away.

“Go ahead ’n get undressed,” he directs as you stare mouth agape at him, “can’t be swimmin’ in those pants.”

You quickly shuck your shirt and begin to maneuver your jeans down your body when you find Joel standing frozen in place watching you with his hand paused on the button of his jeans.

“You can’t be swimming in those pants, Joel,” you tease. 

He smirks, as he deftly unbuttons and unzips his jeans removing his pants and throwing them on the boulder. His eyes darken as he walks towards you, standing in front of you as you take your jeans off, stretching out his hand for you to help balance yourself. 

“Have I told you before how beautiful you are? You look so good in this,” Joel rubs his finger along your bra strap, “this pretty purple against your skin, it’d be a shame if I had to take it off.”

“It’s not coming off Joel,” you slap his hand away.

“Not yet… come on baby.”

He takes your hand and begins to lead you into the lake, a smile growing across your face as you get closer and feel the sensation of the water touch your feet. He keeps your hand held as you both walk in, the gentle waves beginning to ebb and flow against your bodies. You welcome the chill as you venture deeper into the lake. He lets go of your hand as you begin to tread water. You feel downright giddy as you feel weightless in it. Your body fully submerged save for your neck and head, you turn to smile at Joel, treading water a few feet behind you.

“How’s it?” He asks, wide smile on his face. 

“I’m so happy!” You shout as you spin in the water and finally dunk your head underneath the surface.

You haven’t been submerged like this in over twenty years. You’ve always loved this feeling, you feel so free and yet so protected by the lake surrounding you. You swim underneath the surface closer to Joel popping up right in front of him. “I’m so glad, look so happy and beautiful, I love it,” Joel grabs your hands and pulls you against his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, his large hands splay across your back, pulling you in tight against him. The two of you gently float together adrift in the water.

You wish you could record the sounds you’re hearing right now. Joel’s soft breathing against your ear, the chirps of birds in the distance, the sound of the water lapping in the warm summer breeze. It’s a soundtrack you’ve only thought was possible in dreams. 

He’s so beautiful in the water. His skin glowing underneath the thin sheen of liquid, all of the wrinkles of his face and dips of his body shining brighter. His freckles on his chest are more bronzed, twinkling like golden stars smattered on the sky that is his chest. You tuck your head down and kiss the largest freckle in the middle of his chest, your lips wet from the water. Another kiss to another freckle. His soft groan reverberating in the middle of the lake, his hands grip against your back harder when you trace your tongue from one freckle to another. You kiss your way up his neck, dipping your tongue into the deep expanse of the hollow of his throat. You kiss his chin, feeling the scruff of his beard scratch against your lips before they’re soothed by the softness of his pillowy lips. 

“Thank you for this. I can’t say it enough, this is perfect. I love you,” you whisper against his cheek. Your gratitude and devotion to him needing to be added to the orchestra of sounds the two of you hear. 

“So glad you let me do this for you," Joel says, his deep voice making the drops of water on his chest vibrate against your cheek.

Your bodies drift together and apart moving in rhythm with the waves, your legs around his hips becoming your anchor to his body. You think to yourself this might be your promised land. 

——

You leave the lake, both of your bodies soaked and and satiated from your time in the water. Joel brings you a towel and wraps it around your shoulders. 

“Should probably let ourselves dry a little before lunch,” Joel says as he grabs his jacket off the boulder and lays it on the ground. 

“Forgot how cold it gets after swimming,” you chitter out while you rub your folded arms up and down.

“Here, sit with me, I’ll warm you up,” Joel offers as he sits down on his jacket. 

He looks like a dream, laid out in the sunlight, extending his arms behind him and leaning back. He hums as he takes in a deep breath, you watch as his belly inflates and deflates, moving down his small smattering of hair leading down to where you can see how the water has made his underwear sheer, you can make out the shape of him, his golden skin peeking through the white cloth, his long and muscular legs covered in hair stretched out in front of him. 

Maybe it is worth it to leave Jackson once in awhile if you get to see this sight. He’s so manly and beautiful.  He’s so sweet and so thoughtful. He did all of this for you, you want to prove to him exactly how happy he’s made you.

You stand over Joel, your legs straddling his legs, as he looks up at you. 

“Thank you for today Joel, I can’t tell you happy this has made me.” 

“Always, sweethea—“ Joel’s words interrupted by his shock of your actions as you reach behind you and take your bra off. “What are you doing?”

“Making you as happy as you’ve made me.” You drop your bra on the ground next to him.

“Can’t argue with that. Shame, you looked too pretty in that light purple bra, but I like this more.” 

“Get me naked Joel,” you whisper down at him.

Joel stops lounging and sits up, grabbing your waistband and slowly pulling your underwear down your legs. His breath beginning to audibly quicken as your cunt is exposed to him. He runs his hands back up your legs grabs your ass and pushes you even closer to him, your feet shuffling on the ground before his mouth meets your wet slit. You grab his hair, curlier than usual from the water and gently tug his face up. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing, today is about you, so proud of you,” he kisses your hip and stares into your eyes. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous like this. First I’m going to eat your pussy while you stand like this then I’m gonna fuck you all pretty and naked in the forest.”

Joel’s attention turns back to your cunt beginning to taste your slick, his tongue flattening against you as he licks his way up and down from your hole to your clit. He devours your pussy, his contented hums vibrating against your sensitive flesh. You feel your muscles clenching as your orgasm quickly begins to crescendo getting off on the fact that you’re stood in the middle of the wilderness with Joel’s tongue all over you. 

“Gonna cum,” ghosts out of your lips through moans and whimpers. You bite your lip to stop from screaming as he begins to suck at your clit, he knows it makes your knees weak, he braces his hands around your thighs giving you a safety net to fall into. He’s so good to you, he’s so good to your body. Your climax begins to roll through you, Joel groaning as you come all over his tongue. You can hardly stand, shaky kneed and huffing for air, Joel’s tight hold is the only thing making you not crumple to the forest floor.

“Come here sweetheart,” Joel gently helps you down to sit on his lap. “You did so good, you came so good for me,” he smashes his lips against yours, his mouth wet with your juices and his saliva. You need him inside you now. You wrap your legs around his torso mimicking the way you held onto him in the water while your hand travels down between the two of you pulling his hard cock out of his underwear, moving it against your entrance. 

“Thank you for today,” you say as you lift yourself forward and slowly sit down on his length. Joel lets out a hiss as you sink onto him, your hips grinding into him as your pussy accepts all of him. 

“So fucking tight and wet for me, he leans into your neck and licks a long line up your it to your chin and into your mouth. His tongue and your tongue lapping at each other mirroring the waves of the lake. “Want to take over, want to fuck you against the ground.” 

He flips you down without pulling out, your back thudding against the soft fabric of his jacket. His body looms over yours as he begins to move in and out of you.

You look up, past his eyes that are watching you with adoration wanting to see the blue sky as he grounds you into the earth. Your breath catches in your throat as the sunlight shines down through his wet curls blending in with the leaves rustling in the treetops of the forest. Graying curls mixed with deep greens of the lush foliage. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you” you chant out, your words of worship matching his pace echoing off the trees reverberating through the woods.

Joel slopes his head lower to kiss you before he cranes his neck down to watch himself move in and out of you, beginning to fuck you faster, his tempo turning merciless. The curls of his hair hang down and bounce against his forehead, you’re mesmerized by the movement, noticing a drip of water falling down off of the longest curl. Could be sweat, could be leftover water from your swim, you don’t care, you want to taste it. You lift your head up, open your mouth, and let the drop land on your tongue. You love to taste Joel no matter how or what, he always tastes so good. His skin, his spit, his cum, his sweat, this little droplet of water. He doesn’t know what you just did, too enamored by watching his cock disappear inside you, it’s your little secret, your little taste of Joel, just for yourself. 

“Fucking perfect baby, love to watch me fuck you, always so soft and ready for me,” he turns his attention back to you watching you as you slack out as much of a smile as you can, too blissed out to be able to tell him how good he feels. He returns your smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling, he’s so gorgeous all the time, but today, today might just be the most beautiful he’s ever been. You feel your second orgasm begin to burn inside of you, your pussy beginning to clench around Joel.

“Clo—clo—close,” you whimper out.

“I know, I know baby, me too, me too, cum on my cock so I can cum. Need to feel you.”

Joel’s encouragement sends you over the edge, your body tightening as you gasp Joel’s name over and over while your pussy floods his cock.

Joel pulls out right as his body begins to quake. “So good, so good, so good,” he repeats against your neck as he covers your thighs and overworked cunt in his spend. He drops down covering your body with his, a long contented sigh escaping his lips.

“You’re right, this was worth everything, thank you for making me step out of the gates.”

“Course sweetheart, you’re braver and stronger than you know.”

This could be your promised land. 

——

“You know, I think I could do that again, I really loved today,” you yawn as you settle into your bed next to Joel, your hair still wet from the shower, your eyes growing heavier as you pull your blanket higher.

“I’m so proud of you for today baby,” Joel’s words whispered against the back of your neck as he pulls you closer. 

You yawn, exhausted from your big day out and the hours of swimming. 

Your cat Ripley jumps on the bed surprising you. 

“Oh crap, the cats got out of their room,” you throw your blanket off preparing to grab her and put her back in your studio. 

“S’okay, as long as they’re not in my face, they can stay. Know they sleep with you when I’m not here, there’s cat hair everywhere and I’m okay.”

Ripley walks up the bed and settles in next to your chest, purring and kneading your blanket. 

“She good here? She’s the one that always wants my attention.”

“She is. She’s pretty, reminds me of a cat my neighbor used to have, Sarah used to think she looked like the sky, all the speckles were stars.” Your hand pauses on Ripley at the mention of his daughter’s name. “She would beg me for a pet every year for her birthday, for Christmas, Easter, any holiday she could try to get a present out of. I could never do it for her, always had to give her the same excuses… too busy, too expensive, too much time needed. She would have loved your cats. She would have loved your house… I think she would have loved you.”

Tears well in your eyes as he whispers out the last sentence, his voice low and sad. You never ask, never prod, never feel like you’re allowed to know about his daughter. What he’s lost before far outweighing any loss you could imagine. What little you know is mainly from Tommy, but even then you never ask. You wish you knew her, if she was anything like her dad you would have loved her. You wonder about her all the time. Was her mouth as smart as her dad’s? Would her nose crinkle whenever she was’t happy about something? Would she shake her head back and forth while her hand rests against her chest whenever she laughed? 

“I know I would have loved her,” you turn to face him, your tears welling even more when you see how wet his eyes are. You put a hand to his face, brushing a tear from the edge of his eye. “You can talk about her with me at anytime, no matter how little you want to share. I love hearing about her.” 

“I know I can,” he smiles, another tear falling out of his eye that you wipe away. “Ellie falls into my hands, she makes me realize I was sick of feeling so alone and then I get her here and I see you ’n you’re like nobody I’ve ever met before. Ellie loves you and she wouldn’t shut up about you, I knew I had to know you and then you tumble into my life and once you were in it, I couldn’t let you go.”

You kiss him. “Never let me go,” you whisper against his lips.

“Never.”

Falling asleep against Joel’s chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, your cats cuddled next to you underneath your fluffy comforter in the home you’ve made your own, now made less lonely with Joel’s presence, this is your promised land. 

A/N: See you next week! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know.

Tag list: @orcasoul, @dvmbazzsworld, @glitterymanboy

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller ff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #elks #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fanfiction

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Drake is back... but that doesn't mean that it's a happy reunion...

Word Count: 4,300

Rating/Warnings: M (shouting, guilt-tripping, dangerous driving, swearing in multiple languages, one over-heated kiss)

Chapter theme song:

Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

I whirl around in disbelief. "Drake...!"

He's stood before me with two days' worth of stubble, regarding me with a long-suffering look.

But it really is him.

And I feel my heart swell, even though I can tell that he's not exactly best pleased to find me in a random antique shop in the middle of Rome.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. "I turn my back for one goddamn minute and—"

"What are you doing here?" I blurt.

"I can ask the same of you, Gale..." he counters, folding his arms over his chest. "Because this sure as shit ain't no bridal boutique."

My chin lifts on its own accord. "I decided to make a detour."

"Jesus fucking—" He rakes his hand through his hair. "Did you leave your brain in a ditch somewhere in the process?"

My eyes widen. "Wha—! No! I—"

"The city is crawling with paps!" he almost shouts, jabbing a finger towards the door. "Who are looking for any excuse to make a meal out of you! Did you not think for one second that—?"

"What?" I counter heatedly, stepping up to him. "That I should cower and hide instead, like I'm to blame for it all? I told you — I refuse to let these people—"

"Well, it would've been a damn sight better than making me chase you across half the fucking city!"

"Why were you even chasing after me?" I demand, my own ire flaring. "You're supposed to be in Dubai!"

"Been there, done that, got the jet lag to prove it," he hits back sarcastically. "But just because I'm gone doesn't mean you suddenly have carte blanche to fuck off on your own."

"Says the person who walked off without so much as a 'see you later'..."

His mouth hardens. "I didn't want to—"

"Also, I'm not on my own," I continue testily. "Allard and Schweitzer—"

"—are fucking fired," he cuts in, suddenly darkened mocha eyes flashing. "They should never have—"

"Ch'è qualche problema?"

"No!" Drake and I snap in unison.

The old man falls mute before muttering something disparaging under his breath.

I continue staring at Drake, heart thumping and chest heaving in the wake of our dust-up.

He glares back unblinkingly, jaw clenched as the tension rolls off him in palatable waves.

I reach up to adjust the strap of my tote indignantly. "So much for trusting each other, huh, Walker?"

"Dammit, Gale," he growls. "That's not what—"

Grabbing the wrapped box off the counter, I stomp past him without a backwards glance. "See you back at the embassy."

He has some nerve, showing up out of the blue t—

I barely make it two steps before he's grabbed me by the arm.

I open my mouth to retort...

...but I'm not given a chance to get a word in edgeways, because in the next instant, he's slammed me against his chest, laying claim to my mouth with a ferocity that's on the verge of being savage.

The fight whooshes out of me as my arms fly up to wrap themselves 'round his neck, even as I feel his fingers dig against the soft cotton of my dress, pulling me to him like a long-lost ship to anchor.

"Christ, girl," he growls against my lips. "You send me off the edge of reason..."

"I'm... sorry..." I gasp, clinging to him helplessly as he trails down the line of my jaw. "I didn't mean to—"

"Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello."

Drake starts as he gets clapped roundly on the back.

Peeking up, I see the shopkeeper smirking at us conspiratorially while ambling past.

"Err... Sì," coughs Drake, pulling back from me. "Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese..."

The man laughs in response. "Non capita a tutti?"

"You speak Italian?" I gawp, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks as the old man throws us a wink over his shoulder.

"Uh... Yeah..." Drake mutters, running his hand over the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "With Bast."

"Oh." I glance between him and the old man. "What did he say?"

"An old proverb," Drake says, looking just as embarrassed as I am feeling about the fact that we'd inadvertently let our dirty laundry rip in the company of a complete stranger. "Love is not beautiful if it does not quarrel."

My cheeks redden further. "I-I see..."

"It's kind of a compliment..." he admits, shooting a sidelong glance over at the man, who's now busy dusting some shelves. "But we should probably get out of his hair."

"Definitely...!" I chirp, diving towards the saving grace of the exit.

"Err... La saluto," offers Drake on his way out. "E scusi il disturbo..."

"Eh!" comes the scoffed response. "Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona."

"Lo so..."

"Everything alright?" I ask as Drake joins me on the baking pavement.

"Yeah," he assures me, not quite meeting my eye. "Just giving his two cents..."

Something flashes across his face, too fast for me to read.

But before I can ask him about it, he's already marching me across the square.

"What about Allard and Schweitzer?" I protest, trying to squint behind me as Drake navigates us 'round the incessant stream of sightseers. "Are they—?"

"I sent them back to the embassy," Drake replies, yanking me back as a pair of kids dart out in front of me.

"You didn't actually fire them, did you?" I gasp.

"Sure as hell thinking about it," he mutters, moving us forward again.

"If it's any consolation, they did try to talk me out of coming out here..."

"Clearly not hard enough."

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," I remind him.

He lets out a low breath. "Don't I fuckin' know it..."

"Look," I say, coming to a stop and turning to face him. "I get you're pissed—"

"That's putting it mildly."

"—but don't take it out on Allard and Schweitzer," I tell him flatly. "They didn't do anything wrong... and I actually get along with them."

He holds my gaze for a long time before answering. "They're not your friends, Gale."

"Maybe not in any conventional sense," I admit. "But getting me a security detail had been your idea, Walker. And I know I was against it initially, but Allard and Schweitzer have been able to be there for me when you haven't."

His mouth hardens.

"And I know that grates you," I continue quickly, before he can cut me off again. "But we knew from the start that this was going to be the case, so if you do need to leave, then I'd prefer to be left with people I can trust. And I trust Allard and Schweitzer — with my life. Which is actually saying a lot."

He holds my gaze for what feels like a full minute before answering. "I'll think about it."

"That's it?" I demand in disbelief as he grabs my wrist to pull me after him again. "After all that, you're just going t—?"

"I said I'll think about it."

I glare at his back. "You're a dick."

He rounds on me like a wolf. "I'm a fuckin' realist. And the reality is that Allard and Schweitzer messed up. Big time. And I don't care how much you like them, or how many times you've braided each other's hair—"

My eyes narrow. "That's not—"

"—because none of that fucking matters out here! What matters — the only goddamn thing that matters — is keeping you safe. From the paps, from the aristos, even from your ownfucking self, if you're about to do something stupid. And at that, they've unquestionably failed. So, no. I'm not about to cut them a break. Especially not on your say-so. Because the stakes are too fucking real, and I'm not gonna let anyone play dice with your life. Least of all the people whose one job is to look out for you. Got it?"

I force myself to blink back the sudden tears in my eyes. "Yeah..."

"Good," he grunts. "Now get on."

Glancing past Drake, I spot what is very literally the last thing I'd expect to see him with.

I scoff up at him. "In your dreams, bud."

"Gale," he warns, reaching for one of the helmets that's hanging from the black and white moped's frame. "I'm not in the fucking m—"

"Well, neither am I," I hit back tersely. "So, you can take that deathtrap of a Vespa and shove it."

"First off," he counters, tossing the helmet at me. "It's a Piaggio. Second, the only reason I had to resort to this is because you decided to bail."

I catch the helmet irately. "So, you're saying that this is my fault?"

"Damn right, it is," he confirms, extracting a second helmet from the storage compartment nestled beneath the seat. "It's got all of 50cc so it's underpowered as fuck."

"Then why the heck did you get it!"

"Because it's the fastest way to get around the city."

I snort at him. "You mean, it's the fastest way to get into an accident..."

He prays for deliverance under his breath. "Gale, for the love of Christ, will you just—?"

"No," I declare, folding my arms. "The last time you conned me onto the back of your motorbike, I literally thought I was going to die. And after seeing how everyone in Rome drives, I have no interest in—"

"You drive, then."

Drake's unexpected offer pulls me up short. "Wait. What?"

He pulls a set of keys from his pocket. "It's a one-time offer, Gale. Either you take the wheel, or I do. But you've gettin' your ass on this sorry excuse of a bike, one way or another."

"I..." I swallow thickly. "I don't know how..."

"I'll walk you through it," he assures me. "There ain't much to it."

"Somehow I doubt that..."

"Clock's tickin', girl..."

I heave a breath before shoving my head into my helmet. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

"Figured you would," he murmurs, holding the keys up. "You know where these go?"

"Up your ass," I retort, snatching the keychain from his hands.

The corner of his mouth twitches — whether in amusement or annoyance, I can't tell.

Not that I really care. I can be a jerk, too. But, I figure that at least with me driving, we won't rack up any speeding tickets or near misses on our way back to the Cordonian embassy, which is where we are staying for the two nights that we are in Rome for.

Walking up to the moped — admittedly with more swagger than I'm actually feeling at this moment — I grab the handlebars and swing my leg over the middle of the frame.

After a quick inspection, I locate the ignition switch and slot the key in.

But before I have a chance to try and turn the engine on, Drake's hand appears in my line of sight.

Reaching between my legs, he opens a hidden compartment in the frame. "For your bag."

"Oh," I say in genuine surprise, taking my bag off so I can tuck it away. "That is actually kind of neat."

"Last thing we need is for you to lose your stuff..." he drawls, shutting the glove box back up.

As he straightens again, his arm brushes the bare skin of my knee. And despite (or maybe because of) the unresolved tension shimmering between us in the wake of our heated reunion, I can't help but feel a familiar zap of electricity course through my nerves at the inadvertent contact.

"No kidding..." I concede, somewhat hoarsely. Clearing my throat, I add, "So... umm, what's next?"

"Grab the break and turn the key over as far as it'll go."

"So, kind of like a car," I surmise, following the instructions. "Why isn't it starting?"

"Because you only turned the electronics on," Drake advises. "To kick the engine off, you need to disengage the kick stand, and then press the start button."

"Jesus Christ, this is complicated..." I grumble as I scoot off the seat so I can try to figure out how to do what he just said.

"No more complicated than sailing a yacht," Drake counters, watching my antics from the safety of the pavement. "Just give it a shove ."

"How will that—?"

"It's got a rear-mounted kickstand," he says. "You disengage it by rolling the bike forward."

"Right," I grumble, feeling like a total idiot. "Because that's so obvious."

Maybe I should've let Drake drive, after all...

"You still holding the break?"

I snap my head up as I give the handlebars a hard push. "Huh?"

A squeal erupts from my mouth as the moped suddenly lurches forward beneath me, and I have a moment of sheer panic as I wrestle with the hunk of metal to keep from crashing to the ground.

"I told you to hold the break..."

"You could've been more specific!"

He lets out a low breath. "You good?"

"Yeah," I huff, finally managing to find some semblance of balance with an uncooperative moped  stuck between my legs.

"Turn her on, then."

I scan the buttons in front of me. "Err..."

"The one by your right thumb."

Shifting my grip, I extend my thumb out to press the button...

"You still holdin' the break?" Drake asks.

I quickly tighten my hold on the left-side break. "Yes."

Drake eyes me unconvincedly. "Just checking..."

I stick my tongue out at him.

"Hey," he objects. "You're the one who wanted to do this, Gale."

"Yeah, everything is my fault today..." I grumble as I press the start button.

The moped sparks to life beneath me, and I feel a massive rush of achievement.

"I did it!" I cry, meeting Drake's eye with an unadulterated grin.

He quirks a brow at me. "Y'know you're still stationary, right?"

"Shut up."

Drake steps up to the bike with a shake of his head and flips out the passenger foot rest. "Last chance to bow out gracefully, Gale."

I glance over my shoulder at him. "If you're trying to pull some kind of reverse psychology on me, Walker—"

"Wouldn't dream of it..." he assures me dryly, mounting up as well. "But my word is gospel, y'hear?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," I say sardonically... while trying to ignore the heat of his body and the instinctive urge to lean back into it as he settles down on the narrow seat behind me.

Because as much as I missed him, and as glad as I am that he's back, our volatile reunion has served as a stark reminder that we never finished our conversation back in Applewood. Not only that, but thanks to the almost break-neck speed at which things have been happening, the list of topics for discussion has only grown since then.

And the last thing I want is for us to fall down the same toxic hole that we did in the wake of Christian's surprise reveal in Valtoria.

I just have to hope that we'll be able to squeeze in some much-needed couple time before even more things pile up between us.

Not to mention, I'm desperate to know what had happened with Tariq in Dubai... and whether Drake's record-fast turnaround was a sign of some much-needed success, or even more demoralising failure.

But, first things first: getting back to the embassy in one piece, without the paps chasing us.

I feel Drake roll his eyes at me. "Wrong salutation, but never mind... Now. We're gonna do this slowly and gently. There's a lot of people around, and we don't need you on the front page of the Sun again because you accidentally torpedoed a toddler."

My throat constricts. "Y-You saw that?"

"You'd be hard pressed to find someone who hasn't," he mutters. "But right now, your focus needs to be on driving this thing. So, eyes up front and ignore everything else."

I swallow down my nerves. "Okay..."

"Your right hand controls the throttle. Your left hand controls the break," Drake instructs. "For the love of God, don't mix that up, or I'll be on the phone to your patents explaining why you suddenly need skin grafts."

I wince involuntarily at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "Got it."

"It's a mistake you'll only make once," he warns grimly. "To get going, twist down on the throttle while slowly easing up on the break. Don't jerk it, or you'll face plant into the speedometer."

"Anything else?" I ask, somewhat nervously.

As anticipated, driving a motorbike is a lot more nuanced than Drake made it look back in Cordonia. And I'm having some serious second thoughts about this whole thing...

"Keep your feet off the foot-stand until you've got enough momentum to stay upright."

"How will I know that?"

"You'll feel it," he assures me. "Like on a bike."

I bite my bottom lip.

"Hey," he says, brushing his fingers across my hip. "You got this, girl."

The familiarity of Drake's touch — even though it's fleeting — unwinds something in me. Because it's an unspoken reminder that no matter what may be going on around us... or between us, it's not going to come in the way of the promise that he made me.

I suck in a steadying breath. "Okay. Here goes."

Readjusting my grip on the handlebars, I twist my wrist down. Feeling the engine start to rumble with increased vigour, I gentle ease up on the break.

The Piaggio begins to creep forward.

"Watch the road, not the instruments," Drake cautions from behind me.

Lifting my eyes up, I carefully navigate us 'round the oncoming pedestrians, keeping my feet suspended alongside the moped, in case I need to make an emergency stop.

But, as we move away from the iconic landmark, the crowd starts to thin out, and the street widens. Passing a fruit and vegetable stand, I let go of the break fully, the bike pulls forward eagerly. Feeling slightly more confident, I add a bit more gas so I can finally lift my feet up without capsizing our delicate operation.

"Not bad," Drake approves. "You just gotta relax a bit."

I flush inadvertently. "I am relaxed."

"Your shoulders say different. You're driving like Quasimodo."

"Oh." I make a concerted effort to straighten my posture. "Better?"

"Yeah. But now you need to drop your elbows."

"So much for this being easy..."

"It is," he insists. "Once you get the hang of it."

"You and your technicalities, Walker..." I grumble.

"Everything's got a learning curve," he reminds me. "But we just might make a Hell's Angel out of you yet."

I snort back at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Evil Knievel. We haven't made it back to the embassy yet."

"Then you might wanna knuckle down for this next part."

"Why? What's—?"

I get my answer as we round a corner and come parallel to a busier-looking road.

Great...

"Right here, then first left," Drake advises as we approach a somewhat complicated-looking three-way intersection.

"Umm... Okay..." I mumble, eyeing up the noticeably faster-moving traffic on the main road with more than a bit of trepidation.

"No one's gonna give you room, so you'll have to gun it," comes the no-nonsense tip from behind me. "The indicator is by your left thumb."

A Fiat whizzes past, but the next car is some distance away. Taking a breath, I flick the indicator on and twist down on the throttle to merge into the gap.

"Move over one more," Drake shouts over my shoulder. "You're taking up the bus lane."

"Where the heck does it say that?" I demand, casting my head around in confusion.

"On the sign we just passed..."

"Was it invisible?"

"Hey," counters Drake. "You wanna argue with me, or a cop?"

"Neither," I concede sourly, making the switch to the left-side lane after a quick check in the mirror. "But they could've made it more obvious..."

Drake scoffs. "It's Rome. The bastards are trying to catch you out."

"Clearly," I agree, taking a left at the traffic lights...

...straight into a two-way fork in the road.

"Umm... What now?" I squeak, trying to hedge my bets as much as I can in the rapidly shrinking room that I have to make a decision before I run into the curb.

"Stay left."

I start to turn the bike, only to yank it back violently with a yelp as a car that I hadn't realised was trying to overtake me blows past with a scream of its horn.

"Vaffanculo!" yells Drake, throwing his hand out angrily at the other driver.

"Ohmygod..." I rasp, my entire body shaking in the wake of the near miss.

"Fuckin' asshole," gripes Drake. "You okay?"

I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat. "I... think so."

"If you need to pull over..."

I shake my head. "No. I'm fine. I just..."

"...get a kick outta playing chicken?"

"I don't do it on purpose!"

"You sure?" he asks dryly. "'Cause you definitely seem to be making a habit of it..."

I open my mouth, but quickly think better of it... as Drake has a point. I have had a few too many near misses lately. "Sorry... It isn't intentional. I thought that since I'd left the indicator on, that—"

"I know," he assures me, laying a hand on my hip again. "I'm not blaming you. But all the calls you've had had been too close. And..." His fingers tighten against the material of my dress. "I just don't want you to—"

"I know," I concede softly. "I don't want that either. And I'm not normally this accident-prone, I promise..."

"Except when your blood sugar's low," he corrects wryly.

His words cause me to clench my eyes together in consternation. "Damn it, the croissants..."

In the whirlwind of Drake's surprise reappearance, I'd forgotten all about the primary reason for sneaking away from the bridal boutique.

"What croissants?" queries Drake.

"The pistachio ones I was supposed to get from this little bakery next to the fountain that the Italian President had recommended."

I feel Drake's disbelieving gaze knife into the back of my head. "Seriously? That's the reason you were out playing hooky?"

"One of them, yes..." I reply evasively.

"Putain de merde..."

"Apparently they're very good..."

Drake mutters something under his breath. "Pull over."

My eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because it's past noon, and you're clearly starving."

"I'm fine," I insist, even though the only thing of substance I've had since this morning was the cup of coffee on Olivia's jet. "I'll just grab something when—"

The Piaggio lurches to a stop as Drake slaps a hand on the break. "No. You won't."

My eyes widen as my feet fly out on instinct to steady the suddenly stationary moped. "Why not?"

"Because the staff at the embassy already have their work cut out pulling together tonight's dinner, so the kitchen is off-limits," he explains, hopping off the back. "And you won't be able to take two steps outside to grab a sandwich without picking up a pap tail."

"Then why have we stopped in a dead-end alley?" I ask in disbelief as Drake pulls the moped it onto its kickstand while I'm still sat gaping at him from the seat.

"Because we just passed one of the best restaurants in Rome," he states. "So, I'm buying you lunch."

His cinnamon-laced eyes meet mine, and I see a sudden flash of rawness in his gaze... a silent plea entreating me to say yes. Which means this is about more than just food.

"Okay," I accede, wondering what could've prompted such a sudden change of heart. "But what about the paps? Aren't you worried we'll get spotted?"

"See any people?" asks Drake, reaching across my lap to turn the ignition off.

"No, but—"

"Exactly," he affirms, pocketing the keys. "This is one of the few places in the city where you ain't gonna bump into a reporter."

"How do you know?"

"Because apart from the fact that Sugo actually makes its own pasta, it is also a stone's throw from Parliament," he explains, offering me a hand to help me off the bike. "Which means that pencil pushers from every level of government come here to ink deals over carbonara, so no one — staff included — is gonna mess with the status quo."

"Sounds like something out of a mafia movie..."

"Where d'you think Hollywood gets its ideas from?" he drawls, pulling his helmet off to stow it in the under-seat compartment. "Places like this. Which is why no one will bother us here. Especially not the paps. It'd be a death sentence for this joint if their tight and discreet ship suddenly sprung a leak."

"Good to know," I acknowledge, unclipping the clasp of my own helmet. "But how did you even find out about this place? Let alone got in?"

"Leo," Drake replies, taking my helmet to clip it onto the handlebar. "He's on a first name basis with the chef."

I quirk a brow at him. "Sounds like there's a story there..."

Drake extricates my bag from the glove box with scoffs. "It's Leo. There's never not a story. But let's get you inside first. Before you pass out on the pavement."

"I'm not going to—" My stomach rumbles in pointed disagreement. "Okay, I am hungry. But where exactly is this place? There's nothing here apart from the back-ends of buildings..."

"Have I ever let you down when it comes to food?" he asks with a raised brow.

"No..."

"Then trust me."

The story continues in Chapter 21 - Coming Soon!

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

Ch'è qualche problema? - Is there a problem?

Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello. - Ah, love... It is not beautiful if it does not quarrel.

Err... Sì. Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese... - Err... Yes. I am definitely learning that the hard way.

Non capita a tutti? - Don't we all?

Err... La saluto. E scusi il disturbo... - Err... Farewell. And apologies for disturbing you.

Eh! Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona. - Eh! No risk, no reward! But you better take care of her! Good woman – worth a crown.

Lo so... - I know...

Vaffanculo! - Fuck you!

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions only (let me know if you want to be added!)

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[rayplacement]

Rayman / Fakeman selective rp. est 2024, April 27th.

This blog is a selective literate, semi-literate rp blog of the character Rayman from the Netflix series Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix. I will be leaning on CLH Rayman (real version) for some of my take on Fake’s personality and will also heavily lean on HC based interpretations of my own until we see more of him in a hopeful season 2.

I will be writing literate or semi-literate when interacting, but I prefer literate. You can interact however you like to, but just know I will reply in some length and all I ask is please give me something to work with. (If you do " unserious " roleplays, go for it. I can work with that too.)

Bio, portrayal, connections, etc. under cut.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐨

Being let go from his job after an incident, Rayman was left feeling hurt and betrayed. He knew deep down in his own mind that they wouldn't...no, COULDN'T continue the Rayman Show and news without his likeliness. I mean, how could they? He was the host, the face, the main man of the broadcast which was shown throughout all of EDEN. The main show was named after him after all. Unfortunately, upon viewing the channel to see how they could have continued without him; there it was. A fully cloned lookalike of himself was seen talking directly towards the crowd from the screen of his TV.

Rayman, nicknamed Fakeman, Rayplacement, and sometimes FakeRay by the fan base, is Rayman's cloned counterpart who was evidently made to replace the actual Rayman. He is shown to be acting like the former; and shown as happy-go-lucky, sassy, and civic.

𝐇𝐂𝐬 & 𝐇𝐂 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐬

Rayman is more snarky, classy, flirtatious, and more dramatic than the previous Rayman.

Despite having a friendly face and friendly demeanor, he is shown to be more short tempered when not being broadcasted live. This Rayman also adores attention and having eyes on him. He practically lives off it.

When talking to someone, he often looks ahead of him and speaks out loud as if he has a crowd cheering him on from being used to the routine.

He tends to bow often and even clap after something good happens or something pleases him.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

When interacting, feel free to choose a starting connection from below. Keep in mind this is OPTIONAL. It just helps me understand if you want him to act a certain way towards your character first.

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐒 -

You are a fan of " Rayman." He sees you pop up at times, giving you autographs when asked and gives you one sided yet friendly gestures. He isn't your friend of course, just fulfilling a simple cater to a fan.

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 -

He confides in you. He will tell you how his day of work was without sprinkling non hardships. He finds you entertaining and good to be around.

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 -

What started off as a simple friendship now is closer. He confides in you and tells you many things. He trusts you and you trust him. He tells you about how his days are or really anything without sprinkling in sugar.

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 -

Fake will poke fun of, make snarky remarks, and get all hot headed when he is around you. What a brat. He cannot stand the utter thought of being with someone like you for more than five seconds.

𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐋 -

He sees you at diners, clubs, and sometimes at the corner of a shop. He occasionally gives you a smile and sometimes even a wave. You two sometimes talk to one another when you so happen to run into each other. However despite this, nothing special comes to fruition. But that can change.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 ~

What a strange feeling. You two have been together for awhile and somehow you're here. He calls you by nicknames such as darling, my beloved, and dearest. He can be a bit of a jerk and perhaps once will put you on display for all to see, but at the end of the day he means well enough. You are his prize possession. Please note that he is bisexual. I am fine with shipping BUT they have to have known each other for awhiiile and should not be forced upon.

Feel free to send in your muses with writing in my inbox for a response or dm me for interactions. I don't mind short responses too! (Just keep in mind again; I like to be a bit lengthy sometimes as I like to write the characters emotions, actions, etc) I will work with anything :) This blog is also cross over friendly so I don't mind other characters interacting, I highly encourage it to be frank. I also do not mind others portraying the same character. I do NOT DO MAINS. I interact freely 💜.

Sorry for the long pinned post, I think I had to get some info out, especially the character.

Penned by - your mom.

Clh / Rayman rp wakey wakey wakey wakey are you awake now?

#{⭐️} 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐝 !~ // 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 #{🎤} 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧. // 𝐨𝐨𝐜 #{💜} 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐦𝐞? 𝐈'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ~ // 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 #{☀️} 𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞! // 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 #roleplay #rp #roleplay blog #fakeman #rayman #crossover rp #clh rp #rayman rp

[arson4kids]

𝒜𝓇𝓂𝓎 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝓈 ⋆

warnings: sorry y'all this fic is ANGSTY, multi-part series (it's gonna get better trust), bad writing (sue me), mentions of heavy drinking & (light) drug use, mentions of depression, mentions of blood & death, PTSD/panic attacks, ellie needs a hug, more closed off ellie and reader, ellie and reader were never really friends, reader isn't masc or fem (sorry), eventual smut. NOT PROOF READ.

wc: 1620

approx. read time: 12.5 minutes

a/n: sorry i disappeared to those who follow me/read my fics on occasion. i've had zero motivation to write lately. this is more to set the stage for the rest of the series so there isn't much dialog. go easy on me yall i barely write stuff on here.

synopsis: Ellie, having been gone in Santa Barbara for so long, doesn't get the warm welcome she was hoping for. In fact, she's become more of a stranger in her own home that she wonders if she should have never come back. Without means of escape from this new hellish reality...she turns to you for help.

The day she came back couldn't have gone worse. Everyone thought she had died, and you were starting to wonder if people wished she did. Her arrival into Jackson was met with nothing but hostility. Dina refused to speak to her, let alone look at her. The sight was surely something to behold. A once beloved member of the small survivor's community now shunned and shut out. You couldn't say you were surprised.

The day she had left Dina had taken up her things and her young son and marched right back into Jackson. She wasted no time telling everyone exactly what happened. It was safe to say Tommy and Maria didn't last long after that. People stopped regarding Ellie as a mourning girl trying to find closure. She was looking more and more like a monster in the eyes of the town the longer time passed. People began to blame her for the death of Jesse and Dina's growing depression. Some people even came to blame her for Tommy and Maria's separation. The town was already in shambles before she came back. And it was safe to say her return didn't help.

Now, you couldn't say you knew her personally. Sure the two of you hung out and got drunk on occasion after patrols. She would invite you over every once in a while to watch cheesy action movies with her. You'd help her in the stables when she needed it. You considered her a friend of sorts, but you two weren't close by any means. You couldn't even recall her favorite colour. But that didn't prove to soothe the dull ache in your chest as Maria yelled at her openly out in the town's square. You swore you saw a tear drop from the auburn haired girl's eye. She had gone through so much, but who were you to comfort her? That wouldn't get you anywhere. Once Maria finished speaking Ellie held her head up despite everything, marching past you and the others without a second glance. You didn't know how long this would last. Hopefully not long.

.

.

.

Despite her efforts, she couldn't do anything anymore. She was forbidden to go on patrols. Maria even refused to put her on farming rotation. She was forced to live fully isolated from everybody. Even when she did leave the house, nobody treated her like they once did. A passing glance from an older woman. Children bowing their heads and diverting their gazes. Dina pulled her curtains shut when Ellie so much as looked in her direction. Even Kat was avoiding her like the plague. So when you were the last one on the block that wasn't turning and running...you gave her a small smile.

At first, she didn't seem to care. She'd bow her head or give you a small nod. Possibly a passing grunt. But as time went on she began warming up to you. Maybe it was because she had no one else. Maybe she was desperate. Whatever it was, you were all she had. Well, not really. All she had in her mind was her whiskey and her thoughts to keep her company. You could smell it on her breath when she walked by. You could sometimes even pick up traces of...weed? Was she ever sober anymore? You doubted it. You almost couldn't blame her.

The days began to fade into weeks and Ellie got no better. She barely left the house anymore, when she did it was merely to get wasted and go back home. You could feel your stomach twisting into knots whenever you saw her stumbling back out onto the streets some afternoons after your patrol. She barely looked like herself anymore. She was thin. Her once fair skin now holding a sickly glow to it. The circles under her eyes only got darker the more she drank. She'd surely drink herself straight to the grave at this rate. Could she even care? You couldn't be sure.

Despite your friend urging you not to, you followed the pale girl into the bar one evening. You had to see the end of this. You couldn't give a flying fuck what people thought about you after this. You weren't going to sit by and watch this once spirited girl drink herself away just because everyone else could. How could you live with yourself if you did?

It didn't take you very long to spot her once you were in there. The bar was mostly empty as it usually was on weekdays, only a few drunk men were silently slumped over tables or aimlessly chatting each other up. The dull buzz of conversation didn't distract you as you watched her sitting alone in the back corner. Her hand on her cheek, she sat silently as she tried to eat some crackers, an already empty glass of whiskey by her left hand. The sight was so pitiful in itself you almost couldn't watch.

Taking a deep breath and forcing all your doubts aside, you slowly approached her table. Her eyes were quick to follow you even before you got close enough to speak. It made you uneasy as you took the seat across from her. She furrowed her brow, maybe out of confusion. You couldn't tell. You quickly cleared your throat to hopefully ease the sudden tension between the two of you. It hung heavily in the air, much like the smoke of an old cigar. Overbearing. Suffocating.

"Hey." You finally forced yourself to choke out, trying to play it cool. Ellie set her cracker aside, meeting your gaze.

"Hey." She replied, her tone much like yours. Unsure. You felt bad for her. How could you not.

"How's it going?" You asked, as if it wasn't already obvious. You wanted to kick yourself as you heard the auburn haired girl scoff and straighten herself out in her chair. You half expected her to yell at you and tell you to leave her alone so her response caught you off guard.

"Y'know. Just great." She laughed bitterly. Your heart swelled with guilt. Maybe this went deeper than you thought.

"Do you maybe want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

You thought a moment before responding, swallowing a lump in your throat you didn't even know was there.

"What happened...out there."

Ellie furrowed her brow as you spoke. You could hear her tapping her heal against the cool wooden floor of the bar.

"You mean in Santa Barbara?" Ellie simply shook her head.

"I don't think so."

Her response, while you were slightly disappointed, was expected. You didn't expect her to open up to you.

"Well is there anything I can do so you don't have to do this?" You asked, gesturing to the empty glass of whiskey. Ellie glanced up at you. She almost seemed surprised you brought it up. A nervous pit formed in your stomach as the silence returned. Her sudden shift in attitude told you all that you had to know. She couldn't trust you. And you wouldn't force her to. You stood to leave and almost yelped when you felt a sudden warm hand clasp around your wrist. You were saddened when you met Ellie's near desperate gaze when you looked back over to her. Her grip on you tightened as her eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

"Please..." She nearly whimpered. "Don't leave me alone."

You never expected this from her, considering how aloof she was normally. You gently loosened her grip on your arm.

"Do you want to come home with me? We can watch Jurassic Park or some shit."

.

.

.

When you invited her back to watch a movie, you didn't think it'd end with her sobbing into your chest as she spilled all the gruesome details of the past few years to you. She told you about Joel's death and how that led to the events of Seattle, her time at the farm with Dina and how she thought she would stay there forever before she left for Santa Barbara. With each of her hot tears against your skin brought a new story from her. You almost thought she was having a panic attack thanks to how much and how long she had been sobbing. You didn't have the heart to stop her. All you could do is hold her against you and hope that you were providing her with a small amount of comfort just by being there. You would have sat up with her all night if she asked you to. You almost did until the poor girl ended up falling asleep right in your arms from sheer exhaustion. You didn't have the heart to push her away.

.

.

.

From that night on, Ellie stayed with you. She had made herself at home slowly in your guest bedroom. She finally started to heal. People were starting to lessen up on her, even if it was only slightly. That almost didn't matter to her anymore thanks to your ongoing support. She even had the chance to formally talk to Dina and see her son again. All of this started to lull Ellie into a form of peace she never thought she'd reach again. It brought you peace as well.

While all of this was going on, you couldn't help but notice how much closer Ellie was getting to you. It started with friendly greetings and holding your hand to her talking to you late at night while she played with your hair. You were stating to question what she meant to you. What you meant to her. You almost felt guilty for thinking you were anything more than just a friend to her. But, only time could tell, right?

#Spotify #multiple part series #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #idk what else to tag #can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars #? i guess #angst with a happy ending

[ollypopwrites]

From Depths Unknown ; Part 4

Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Part 3 ⚜ Ao3

Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.

Rating: E

Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Language, Canon-typical violence (discussion of injuries), Discussions of Death & the afterlife, background Bloodweave.

Chapter Summary:

Rolan pulled Tav back into him, face buried in her hair and his tail wrapped around her leg as many times as it could. Perhaps it was the weakness she still felt, but she leaned into him, and he could feel her stuttering breaths with her pressed against his chest. She was crying. His own eyes had been stinging since she looked over at him for the first time in two days, clenched shut every time he thought they might spill over. He was so grateful he could hardly find words. 

Notes: Fuck it lets update two days in a row. This series will end at Part 6, I've decided. Thanks for going on this journey with me so far.

The last thing Tav remembered was pain.

The sun came up, and Lae’zel flew off astride a dragon into its bright glow. When she had faded away into the distance, Tav remembered staring at the spot where Karlach and Wyll had stepped through a portal to the hells. Someone had said something about the sun, and then the trail of deep gashes in her torso throbbed with mind numbing pain. Everything was blank after that. 

In the back of her mind in the fugue plane, she knew she was dead. It was nothingness, all senses and concepts slipped away. But her mind seemed to drift in a state of waiting for something to happen. What it was she could not remember. Flashes of faces were fuzzy, and the emotions they elicited were whispers. Time was unknowable, this state of absence could have been decades or seconds and Tav would not be able to tell the difference. 

Something pulled, tugging at the edges of whatever was left of her. 

First was amber colored warmth that seemed to seep into the center of the nebulous state of her, it beckoned: come back to me. She wanted to, letting the sensation fill her and start the spark of life. Tav felt her spirit be cupped in soft cooling hands, not diminishing the warmth, but an additional soothing touch, the color of silver wrapping around the amber glow.

 A sharp white shock of lightning spread through the shape of a body she forgot she had - a deep rumbling in her newly found chest, and the cool wash of rain on her face. They were separate entities, but she could not quite tell what or who they were. She trusted them, letting them pull her until  the combined efforts made the nebulous shapes she could see become clear. Faces. 

Rolan’s scarlet skin, freckles hiding under dirt and ash, with his dark hair slipping out of its neat tie at the back of his head. His eyes were wide, the yellow glow against the darkness of his sclera was a lovely sight. And Shadowheart, frowning with intense focus, her pretty green eyes bright and watery. Jaheira’s even stare was just over Shadowheart’s shoulder, and Halsin’s brow tipped in concern towering above both of the women. 

As if she was underwater, the familiar need to breach a surface and breathe overtook her. 

Her whole body had been a livewire of sensation when the air hit her lungs. Most of them were unpleasant: pain and nausea and exhaustion. Tav hardly comprehended what she said and saw, she just remembered being told she could finally rest and then everything went black again. 

Consciousness came to her slowly. But this was different than before. She was just waking up, like every other day in her life.

“Coming back from the dead, being suddenly tadpole free, the physical damage — these things are hard on the body on their own,” she heard a familiar rumbling voice. Halsin. “She’s been fully healed, but she needs rest.” 

“Are we certain there’s no lasting damage?” Another familiar voice. Deep, crisply accented and comforting despite the shortness of tone. Rolan. “That I didn’t… didn’t do the resurrection wrong?”

Her eyes opened. Above her was the canopy of an ostentatious four post bed, her eyes took in a painting of a celestial sky framed by gold filigrees. It smelled of magic, rosewater and sage, and something else — something familiar but unnameable. As her mind came to her, she felt the need to move her fingers,taking in the sensation of her touch on the soft fabric of velvet blankets. Beneath her body was a plush, comfortable, mattress. 

She ached. There was an absence in her psyche that at first was confusing — it was just her. No Emperor, no companions, no pounding resonation of the Elder Brain. 

“Tav?” 

Rolan’s face hovered over her. He looked as intense as ever, but it was softened by his eyes. Just as before, wide and comforting in their warmth. Her lips cracked, a slight sting accompanying the leisurely smile that took over her face. 

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hello,” he smiled a little. 

“Is it over?” It’s all she could think to say, voice rough and dry.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, you did it.” 

“What happened?”

“You —“ he swallowed, his smile dropping instantly. Whatever it was he couldn’t seem to say. 

“What can you remember?” Halsin asked, making look over to the foot of the bed where he stood. 

Tav wracked her brain. They were falling, they were in the water, they were on the dock. Lae’zel flew off on a red dragon, and named Tav liberator. Karlach’s heart almost gave out, but Wyll and her jumped into a portal before it could happen. Tav remembered frantically begging her to keep living, promising they would find a way to bring them back. Astarion… oh gods, Astarion. 

He didn’t have the tadpole. He was out in the sun. 

“Astarion — “ she asked Halsin, “is he okay?”

“He ran into the shadows,” Halsin said evenly, “wherever he is, Gale is with him.”

“But where are they?”

“We haven’t seen them,” Halsin’s brow furrowed. 

“Shadowheart?” Tav asked, eyes clenched shut. 

“Downstairs with the healers.” Rolan assured her.

Tav let out a shuddering breath. “And —“

“Jaheira and Minsc are helping to organize the rebuilding efforts,” Halsin informed her. “You gave us quite the scare,” he smiled a little at her. “You should have mentioned your wounds.”

That’s right. Throughout the adrenaline fueled panic to just keep everyone alive at the very end, Tav had forgotten an intellect devourer had nearly disemboweled her. She had taken quite a few hits besides that as well, shrugged off in the heat of battle. The onslaught of the Netherbrain’s psionic powers had made her brain feel like it would leak out of her ears. All in all, she had been truly fucked up by the end of it all.

“I died.”

Halsin nodded. 

Tav licked her lips, but her tongue was just as dry as her lips. Only a few of their party had to be resuscitated on the road. Withers was there for exactly that, and she never worried too much about it, saving all their resurrection scrolls for allies that Withers had deemed not necessary to maintain in the fight. Only their core group were tied to the ultimate fate, and after that was finished she imagined he had to maintain the balance of life and death. 

“I remember  something pulling me,” she closed her eyes. “Pulling me out of — water? No… it was nothing.”

“A resurrection scroll,” Rolan finally spoke. “I used a resurrection scroll to bring you back.” 

Tav looked over at him, wanting to ease the worry that creased his handsome face. “My hero.”

He closed his eyes, a smile twitching at his lips as he exhaled a breath that might have been a laugh. Her heart felt fit to burst.  “You’re an idiot.”

Tav sat up, a wave of dizziness overcoming her so she toppled to the side. Rolan had a hand on her shoulder, and an arm at her back. Nausea flooded her, and she took a deep breath. 

“It may take some time for you to get your bearings.” Halsin told her. “You were lost to us for quite some time, your body needs to adjust to the shifting states.”

“Not to mention the side effects from the tadpoles being removed,” Rolan added. “Shadowheart’s been struggling with headaches, and fatigue. You need to rest.”

“Can I see her?” 

“She will want to know you’re awake.” Halsin said with a nod and left the room. 

“Where are we? The tower?”

“Yes,” Rolan was trying to ease her down but she wanted to will herself to feel better. 

With a truly pathetic shove she managed to sling her legs over and out of the covers. Her feet slowly met the plush rug that covered the stone floor, and she stood. Well she tried to: she got up to her feet and then felt her legs give out. Rolan grunted as he grabbed her around the waist, tugging her against him to keep her from falling.

“Please, Tav, lay down,” he insisted. 

“I want to see the city,” she pleaded. 

There was an open door to the terrace right there, she could see the clear blue sky of an afternoon. Rolan folded with a sharp sigh and helped steady her as she took a step, then another, weakly and slowly but she was not going to be denied the chance to see it. 

At the railing of the terrace, she gripped it with weak hands, Rolan just behind her with an arm firmly wrapped around her waist. He wasn’t letting her get too close to the edge. The city was in a bad state, many buildings in the lower half were destroyed, and the upper city was near unrecognizable. The tower was tall, but she could see people below. Carrying lumber and stones, running back and forth with supplies, building and walking around. 

“We did it.” She breathed. “We did it.” 

Rolan pulled Tav back into him, face buried in her hair and his tail wrapped around her leg as many times as it could. Perhaps it was the weakness she still felt, but she leaned into him, and he could feel her stuttering breaths with her pressed against his chest. She was crying. His own eyes had been stinging since she looked over at him for the first time in two days, clenched shut every time he thought they might spill over. 

He was so grateful he could hardly find words. 

“You should be laying down,” he ground out past the lump in his throat after a few moments. 

“Okay.” 

But neither of them moved. 

“Can we sit out here ? Just for a little bit?”

Rolan heaved a sigh, more for show than out of true irritation. He helped her maneuver into a chair, and she seemed grateful to be off of her feet. There was only one chair on the terrace, and Rolan found himself standing by it, ready to steady her if needed, afraid to wander too far. Tav took in the feeling of the sun, the sounds of the city below and took a few deep breaths. Rolan could only watch her. 

Her dead gaze had stuck with him, so he tried to replace it with the current view of her eyes scanning the city below. He had  found himself constantly checking that her chest had been moving with breaths while she rested, he was clinging to the proof she was alive and moving around now. Rolan’s tail wrapped around her ankle again, and she leaned over to look at it with a small laugh.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” 

The new voice had him jumping out of his skin in shock. As if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, his face flushed a deeper red, his tail unraveling from its grip. 

Shadowheart was in the doorway, a bright grin betraying her teasing tone. “Five months on the road,” she said to Tav, “and you die on me at the last second.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Tav replied. 

“Apology accepted,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. 

This was a far different reaction to when Tav had been brought into the tower. The reality of the situation was made clear by the true panic in the cleric’s normally calm and detached demeanor. They looked at each other for a moment as if in some silent conversation. After a while Tav ducked her head. 

“Feels strange, not having you bouncing around in my brain,” she said. 

“It’s both a relief and… a loss, somehow. I never thought I’d miss anything about the tadpoles.”

“Guess we just have to talk to each other like normal people, eh?”

Rolan felt he was intruding and went back into the bedroom, taking a moment to recollect himself. Halsin was there, a nod of understanding offered in his direction. Neither of them truly knew the experience of sharing a consciousness, not in that way. It seemed to be something that Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Tav would always have to bind them.

“Jaheira tells me you’ll be relocating some of the orphaned children near Reithwin,” Rolan cleared his throat. 

“It’s a peaceful place now that the curse has been lifted, and there’s plenty of space for them to grow,” he nodded. “As the Grove was for you, I hope to build a place of refuge for anyone who wishes to leave the city.”

“Whatever you may need for the journey, you need only ask.” 

Halsin thanked him with a nod. “It suits you, this position. Archmage of Baldur’s Gate ,” he smiled a little, “the title should go to someone who has overcome adversity. Someone who knows the value of what he has.”

Rolan was not so certain. “I’m not an archmage yet,” he said. “I still have much to learn.” 

“As you say,” Halsin smiled. 

Rolan looked over his shoulder, out at the terrace where Shadowheart and Tav were still deep in conversation. Rolan knew that whatever they were discussing, was meant for them alone to hear. “The tower has an impressive greenhouse, but I’d like to get an expert's opinion on how to improve it.”

Halsin smiled tiredly, all at once looking like a man who had lived centuries. “Any glimpse of nature  you have to offer would be quite the solace to me.”

“So Selune did hear me,” Shadowheart said quietly, eyes averted. “I had no magic left. I had revivify prepared for this reason but — “ she shook her head. “I prayed she would give me some way to save you.”

“Her and something else certainly heard you,” Tav leaned back. “I almost… don’t know what to do now.” 

“You aren’t doing anything,” Shadowheart admonished. “At least another day or two of rest, then you can think about the future.”

“You’re rested,” Tav smiled. “What will you do?”

“Help around here for a bit longer,” Shadowheart looked over the city. “After that, maybe follow Halsin. He wants to head back towards the mountain pass, taking some refugees with him, I could settle there or… explore.”

“Exploring suits you,”  Tav smiled, “selfishly, I’d wish you wouldn’t go far but… my little Selunite has to spread her wings.”

After a while the afternoon shifted into night, and the two of them sent a quiet prayer of thanks to Selune as the moon rose into the sky. Tav had never been the religious type and their journey had only solidified her resolve to respect the gods from afar. The entire mess of the Absolute had been designed for The Dead Three, Mystra’s involvement had not quite inspired awe in her given that it required one of her best friends killing himself, and everything with Shar spoke for itself. But she appreciated Selune’s more distant approach to aiding them; it certainly had caused them less strife.

Arm looped in Shadowheart’s for sake of steadiness (Tav had an inkling her friend was feeling affectionate but would not admit it) Tav had met with the small group gathered for dinner. Cal barely maintained his composure while he gave her a gentle hug, Lia lingered a little in her arms, while Halsin smiled on. Rolan was hovering nearby, and looked ready to scold his siblings. 

“Don’t crowd her,” he insisted. 

“I don’t mind,” she smiled, patting Lia on the back of the head. “It’s been a rough journey to get here, yeah?” She looked at the tiefling in her embrace who was a bit misty eyed. “But we’re fine! And I’m starving. Being dead works up quite the appetite.”

Everyone but Rolan seemed to find the joke at least a little funny, but she was used to him looking bothered by her. She was happy to see his eye twitch in the face of her jokes. Despite her appetite, after filling her stomach and drinking nearly an entire pitcher of water to herself she was quite sleepy. But there was some business she had to see to. 

“Has anyone looked for Gale and Astarion?”

“There’s been a lot of healing work to do,” Shadowheart said, “wherever they are I’m sure they’re fine.”

“I’d like to see it for myself,” Tav said seriously. “They’re the only ones left, Shadowheart, I want to know they’re okay.”

Shadowheart shook her head a little. “I can start a search party, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Tav didn’t like this answer. “If it were us —“

“No,” Shadowheart cut her off. “You died. It was just me, Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc. They know there’s only so many places we could be — and they still haven’t turned up.”

It hurt to hear it said out loud. Tav was trying not to be selfish, but Shadowheart was right. It did feel a bit like the two had abandoned them. At least Karlach, Wyll and Lae’zel had an excuse for leaving moments after their victory. The sun went down every night, Astarion and Gale could have made their way back days ago. 

Shadowheart specifically must have felt slighted. The late arrival of Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc did not make them any less a part of the team but Astarion and Gale were the first they had met after the nautiloid crash. The four of them had been together since day one of the nightmare. For them to just go missing on her when she needed them most had to sting. 

Aware of the tension in the room, Tav offered a tired smile, not wanting to drag the conversation out any longer. “Alright.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Shadowheart frowned. 

“I’m not in charge anymore,” Tav sighed as she rubbed at her eyes, “and I’m too tired to argue right now. When I’m all rested, I’ll figure something out.”

For a minute, it looked like Shadowheart was trying to concentrate on something, brow furrowing with the attempt. And then blinked a few times as if she caught herself. 

“There’s no more tadpoles, Shadowheart,” Tav found herself laughing a bit, “can’t poke around in each other's heads anymore.”

“I know — I forgot,” she shook her head. 

“I think,” Halsin said, “it’s time for you to rest, Tav. You’re still —“

“Recovering, yeah, I know.” She stood up from the table. 

A loud scraping sound happened the moment she got to her feet as Rolan rose from his chair suddenly, nearly knocking it over. “I’ll walk you.”

“Thank you.” Tav said with raised eyebrows, seeing Lia cover her face and Cal grin out of the corner of her eye. “Goodnight, everyone.”

Rolan did not ask, but simply placed her arm in the crook of his elbow as he led her out. The tower was big, and as the halls went on she was more and more looking forward to laying down in a bed. Her strength felt sapped still, her legs a bit wobbly after sitting for so long. The food in her stomach satiated her, but it brought with it the desire to close her eyes. 

“I can’t wait to feel normal again,” she said. 

“No need to rush,” he replied. 

“There’s a lot to do,” Tav insisted. “And I’m useless.”

“Gods forbid the Savior of the Gate stop for once.”

“That title has a nice ring to it, when did you come up with that?”

“I didn’t,” he smiled, “it’s what everyone is calling you and your friends. The Saviors of the Gate.”

“Oh.”

They certainly had received a lot of thanks and praises over the last few months. For everyone in such a big city to know her name, to be discussing the journey she and her friends had been on was odd. She was not quite sure how she felt about being so… known. 

As he led her into the same room she had woken in, she slid onto the bed with a groan. She shuffled until she was under the covers, taking deep contented breaths as she buried her face in the pillows. This bed was more heavenly than even her own back home, and she was so grateful for it.

“Are all the beds in the tower this comfy?”

“Knowing Lorroakan, he probably saved the best for himself,” Rolan said.

“That must be your new bed,” Tav turned over to look at him. “Is it heaven? Just a big magical cloud of relaxation?”

“Erm,” Rolan shifted on his feet. “It is, yes, but —“ he cleared his throat, “but you’ll have to tell me. You’ve been sleeping in it.”

Tav was confused. “This is your bed?”

“It is.”

“You gave up your bed for me?” Tav asked, “why?”

Rolan stood somewhat awkwardly, hands at his sides. “I wanted you to be comfortable.”

“That’s sweet,” Tav smiled. “Are you sure you’re not a doppleganger? Did some straggling Bhaalists get to you?”

He eased up at the teasing, looking more comfortable. “I’ll remember not to show you any consideration in the future. Such a lack of gratitude.” He was smiling. 

“You’re one to talk about lacking gratitude,” she smiled back, eyes closed now. She was so tired. “I can never win with you.”

“And yet here you are in my bed, while I toss and turn in a guest room.”

“Poor Rolan,” she replied. “So very put out by his little hero.”

“Indeed.”

He was shutting off again, she could tell by the closed tone. “I am sorry,” she replied, eyes opening, “I honestly do feel like I’ve put everyone out.”

“You saved the city,” he looked befuddled. “You died saving it.”

“Could have done better,” she muttered. Her thoughts going to Karlach and Wyll, and to Astarion now confined to the shadows. 

“We both know that’s far from the truth,” he said softly. “I — I thought it wouldn’t work — the resurrection.”

“I worried you.” 

Part of her knew in the back of her mind that was true, but he was such a hard puzzle to figure out. Sometimes she was sure he thought of her the same way she did of him. But he always was at arms length, never giving more than a hint and then closing off immediately after. ‘You’ll come back to me,’ he had told her in the high hall. As if she was his. 

“Worried,” he repeated, a half laugh in amazement. “Yes, I would rather say you did.”

“Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing, go to sleep,” he insisted. 

“Will you stay? Just for a little bit?”

The thought of being left alone was overwhelming, she had not spent a night alone in months. Rolan searched her face for a moment, then sat on the bed, turned towards her. For a moment he looked unsure what to do with his hands, before deciding to fold them in his lap, his tail flicking gently behind him on the covers. Thanking him quietly, she let herself drift off, eyes closed so she couldn’t see his unwavering gaze on her. 

Tav was bouncing back quickly, he was pleased to see. She had gone from only being able to draft a letter to her mother before needing to lay down for the rest of the day to walking around the upper levels of the tower on her own.  But she was starting to get restless after a day or two. Now that she could stand on her own two feet without someone’s support, she was hard to contain. She had been blocked off from the bottom floor of the tower, since no one trusted her not to get roped into some rebuilding effort before she was ready. 

Rolan was busier than ever. He only had a handful of staff to assist him, and all of them were running around the city to help the recovery efforts. Despite the circumstances and the less than gentle way Jaheira had put it, Rolan realized quickly she had been right about taking on the duty of the city’s Archmage. The tower was a central point in the city, the main source of magical wares and a trove of information.

Rolan didn’t want it to be a museum, he wanted it to be a resource. 

At the end of the day, he would dine with Tav, his siblings and Shadowheart. Halsin joined them every once in a while, but he had given his word to assess just how many orphans were running unattended in the ruined city streets. He was also the only one Yenna would come out of the Elfsong suite for, and he had to make sure she was looked after and fed. After dinner and a healthy amount of wine amongst the small group, Tav had asked him if he had anything that could help get her to the hells. 

Alarm bells rang off in his mind. “We can look into it.” He offered as diplomatically as he knew how. 

“Her engine won’t last here,” Shadowheart reminded Tav. 

There was a stubborn look on Tav’s face, and she replied. “I just want to look into it.”

That night Rolan poured over the library with her.There were portals, an easy enough thing to figure out, but Tav wanted a solution for Karlach’s engine. Infernal engineering was hardly his expertise, and Dammon was up to his horns in work. Rolan also already knew that the blacksmith had exhausted his knowledge to make it so Karlach could touch people once more, making the engine stable in the material plane was, as far as he knew, not possible. 

“I don’t understand any of this,” Tav muttered. 

“Your many talents don’t include infernal engineering?”

“Not yet,” she arched a brow at the book in her hands. 

“Perhaps after things settle down,” Rolan offered, “Dammon could look further into it.” 

It was a poor attempt to make her let it go, even temporarily. And she saw straight through it. 

“You’re trying to placate me,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t think I can do it.”

“What I think you're capable of is irrelevant. You are not a smithy of any kind, and have no firsthand knowledge of the hells let alone the machinery built specifically to withstand its atmosphere,” Rolan said evenly. “I understand the pressure you feel, but you’re one person —“

“No, you don’t understand,” she snapped. “I wasn’t just one person, I was seven. You don’t know what it’s like to feel someone else’s fear as if it were your own, their sadness and joy — to experience their darkest memories, as if you’ve lived them yourself. They trusted me, they looked to me to keep them safe, to keep us on the right path — “ she stopped to take a deep breath, eyes closing as a shaky exhale forced its way out and gave away how affected she was. “Karlach and Wyll should be here.”

Rolan felt the sting of her words deeper than he wanted to admit. An ugly jealousy reared its head; all but one of the six had left her and he was right there and that still wasn’t enough. He never seemed to be up to the task. The urge to lash out was strong; helpless against the scratching in his chest he felt himself get angry. 

“I’ll leave you to your research,” he said shortly. 

The silence was only filled by his footsteps on the tile floor as he made his way out. He passed Shadowheart in the hall as she made her way to her room for the night, offering only a curt nod in her direction as he picked up his pace to avoid conversation. His temper was quickly slipping, and he was sure he’d snap at the next person who would make eye contact with him. He made it to his borrowed room and slammed the door shut behind him. His tail flicked back and forth in sharp, angry movements, hitting the wood of the door with heavy thumps. He needed a distraction. 

Rolan sat at the desk in the small guest room which he had taken to since insisting Tav take the master suite. He grabbed his spell book, dug into the desk drawer for a quill and some ink and opened to his most recent page. Unfinished notes about a telekinesis spell, something he wanted to try to modify to control the trajectory of an object rather than just send it flying backwards. 

A thin chain was nestled in the gutter of the book, carefully attached to his ribbon place marker. The dangling pearl hung over the edge. When she had asked him to keep it safe he knew it needed to be with the one thing he always had with him, and took the greatest care of. His finger ran over the pearl and he winced. 

Gods, I’m a fool, he thought as he flipped to another page. 

Despite the fact that the very mention of her group had sent him into a jealous fervor, and that he was really rather irritated with her, he knew immediately what might cheer her up. And he was not going to stop the impulse to do it. He never did. It felt like insanity. He tried and tried to be exactly what he thought she wanted and never felt it was enough. Time and time again, he went against every instinct of self-preservation he had clung to so desperately his entire life to try and let himself fall further for her. 

Rolan carefully read his notes, going over the incantation, double checking his components, and practicing the hand movements. Once he was more confident he knew what to do, he cast Sending for the first time in his life, thinking hard on the recipient. The rush of the weave molding to his whim sparked the usual comfort, this time punctuated by the hum of the spell awaiting his message. 

“Gale, it’s Rolan. Where the bloody hells have you two been? We are awaiting your hasty return. Tav and Shadowheart are currently at the tower.”

He let some of his irritation bleed into the message. If anyone deserved a bit of his ire, it was those two. Then he waited. The hum of the spell still resonated in his mind as the connection stayed and awaited the reply. 

“Ah, Sending! Clever.” Gale’s downright chipper voice broke through. “Astarion and I were simply working on a solution to — ow! My love, please, I only have twenty-five words! Now, Rolan we —“

The spell cut out, Gale having used a good chunk of his limited verbiage to scold Astarion. Rolan felt a throb in his temple, and rubbed at it. Gale was thus far the most admirable and well-learned wizard he knew. He respected the man more than he could say, but even he was prone to making Rolan question the sanity of Tav’s entire operation. To think the world had been in their hands, only they were truly crazy enough to pull it off, he believed. At the very least he could assure Tav the two were alive and well. 

A gentle humming of weave wrapped around him, and in his ear as if the man was right in front of him, Rolan heard Gale’s voice. 

“Apologies! Astarion and I will make our way to the tower shortly, we have much to discuss. Expect us tomorrow! How are Tav and Shadowheart?”

Rolan clenched his teeth, and spoke out loud. “They’re both safe now, no thanks to you. Forewarning, neither are pleased with you two. You’d better come up with a good excuse. Good evening.”

There was not another message. Rolan felt a sense of satisfaction in letting them sweat in the knowledge that their friends were waiting on them. It had been hard to see Shadowheart struggle with being the last of the original six on her feet, and the two had been one of the first things Tav had asked about when she finally awoke. 

It had been nearly a week with no word. He was certain Tav would not have been so harsh with him earlier were her friends there with her. The ache of jealousy still settled in his chest, he wanted nothing more than to go back to the study and be near her but pride was preventing him from walking out of the door. 

He went back to his spell book, ready to make more notes on the new discoveries from the sending spell and finish working on his telekinesis alterations. Whenever he paused to think or stopped to read over his notes, his thumb  gently rubbed over the pearl still dangling there.

Tav felt horrible about what she said. After Rolan left her alone in the study, she tried to read more about infernal steelwork through tear blurred eyes. Another thing to add to her pile of failures, festering in the pool of guilt that seemed permanently settled in her stomach. 

Immediately she wanted to apologize. Her temper could be quick but she knew when she was wrong. Tav went to the door, looking out into the hallway, but it was empty. She had no idea what room he was staying in, since he insisted she kept using his for the time being. Unable to do anything else, she went back to the book she had found and read it until her eyes ached. 

The next day Rolan was not at breakfast. Everyone had stopped their hovering, after a few days of rest and recovery from the battle and her return from death, Tav felt almost entirely back to her old self. When she came down into the shop section of the tower for the first time, she was surprised to see it set up as a sort of healing center. Shadowheart informed her that compared to the night after battle the place was much less crowded. 

 Shadowheart joined as Jaheira walked Tav through the city, discussing the rebuilding efforts. As before the attack, the upper city was closed off, the efforts to salvage the destroyed streets had apparently been well underway before anyone official besides Florrick paid attention to the lower city. 

A good chunk of the patriars and nobles had been murdered at Gortash’s coronation. Their heirs were all banded together to be the new saviors of the city, buying first the love of the richest by repairing their streets first. It was clear that the new favorites in the lower city were the Harper’s, Florick and even the new master of Ramazith’s Tower. 

She was told of his efforts to keep open the doors of his home as a refuge, and even some stories of him running around the morning after the battle to help wherever he could. Pride welled up in her, even if he was not speaking to her currently, she was so pleased to hear him praised that she could hardly keep from smiling. 

Despite Shadowheart’s hesitance, Tav volunteered to immediately start getting to work. It felt good to do something besides force herself to walk around the tower until she got too tired to continue. Shadowheart had taken on a lot while Tav was recovering, including informing a grieved Duke Ravenguard about the whereabouts of his son. Tav felt the need to make up for it. 

Outside of the shop in the square, Tav decided to try using some magic to fix up a broken wall. Stoneshape was a hard spell, but it felt good to use her magic. Once the exhaustion wore off it bubbled inside of her, crackling to be used, or to find a way out of her. On the road the tadpole often kept it under better control than she ever had alone and it had countless opportunities to lash out given all the fighting they had done. 

Gale had always been kind about it, but he mentioned more than once a bit of wizarding education to keep it under control would not hurt. She knew better than anyone he was right. Even with his help she still felt it crack and pull at her when she was particularly upset. 

The only thing that ever controlled it was to exhaust it. Use it all up until there was only the vague hum beneath her veins. She had gotten used to using pointless little spells in her everyday life to satiate its crackling need to fly out of her. Stone shaping buildings back together was a quite useful thing, she thought, given how deeply she was feeling guilt. 

An earth myrmidon came up next to her, its faceless head turned to help her with her task. She looked over her shoulder, trying to find its summoner. Her eyes caught black and amber, Rolan standing not too far off, but he quickly looked away. She kept watching, more of his summoned elementals were clearing rubble, an animated set of armor carrying new building materials to groups of people hammering away. All under his focused gaze as he waved his hands and used his magic to clean up her mess. 

Unable to stop herself, she came over to inspect his work. Arms crossed over her chest in a show of consideration as she tilted her head. 

“Master Rolan, you are making quite a name for yourself in this city,” she teased lightly. “How charitable, and generally decent of you to offer your services in this trying time.”

“How benevolent of you to notice,” he replied dryly. “Quite the compliment from the Savior of the Gate. I’ve been rather busy while you’ve been lazing away in the tower.”

“Well, I can’t be outdone,” she smiled. “I have a reputation as a hero, you know.”

“I do know,” Rolan’s lip twitched, fighting a smile. “All too well.”

“Rolan —“

“Astarion! What the hells are you doing?” 

Tav turned quickly at Shadowheart’s panicked voice. There in the street was Astarion, next to a grinning Gale, in broad daylight. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight and she was running towards them, Shadowheart having the same idea. There had to be something she could cast, something to block him from the sun, but her mind was coming up short. 

But as she approached, he wasn’t burning. There was no ashen haze over his face, his eyes were bright and… blue. 

“Don’t make a scene, darling,” Astarion said, but he seemed very nearly bashful. 

In fact, a soft pink blush was rising on his cheeks. His skin, though still pale, had a  glow to it. She’d grown so used to the marble like pallor of his skin, the undertones of pink made her feel like she was looking at a stranger. 

“You’re — how?”

“True resurrection!” Gale supplied gleefully at his side. “One of the only known cures for vampirism.” 

“How in the hells did you manage that?” Shadowheart was looking wide eyed at Astarion, while Tav touched his warm cheek. 

“Due to the nature of the orb, I acquired a scroll very early on in my isolation,” Gale explained, animated as ever. “As I pose no risk to any surrounding cities any longer, I found a much better use for it.”

“I’ve been so worried about you two,” Tav frowned. 

“You had a resurrection scroll this entire time?” Shadowheart snapped. 

“Well, yes —“ Gale’s mouth shut tight at Shadowheart’s blazing gaze. He looked to Tav confusedly. 

“I had some pretty bad wounds —“

“She died.” Shadowheart cut her off. “Bled out right on the dock after you two ran off, and I had no magic left. If Rolan hadn’t had a scroll at the tower —“

“But he did,” Tav interrupted, at the stricken look on Gale’s face. “It's okay, I’m fine.”

“It’s my fault,” Astarion said, a frown on his face as he refused to meet their eyes. Since he was not usually one to come close to apologizing, it made both Shadowheart and Tav give their full attention.  “I was… well, I thought I lost my time in the sun.” 

“Even if I didn’t come back,” Tav said, “I couldn't be angry at you for this.” She sniffled a little, “welcome back to mortality. You don’t look a day over 200.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush,” Astarion preened. “Which is still the oddest sensation, all that warmth.” He touched his face.

“Given how long you two were gone I imagine you’ve rediscovered just how warm you can get,” Tav teased. 

“I’m so sorry,” Gale said, wincing. “I’d assumed we were all in the clear.”

There was a silence and Astarion’s new eyes looked to Tav and then Shadowheart. “It’s really just us now, isn’t it?”

“For now,” Tav smiled sadly. “Quiet, isn’t it?”

“Odd. And… well, I won’t say I miss you all in the back of my mind but,” he frowned a little, “it was something, wasn’t it?”

She didn’t need the tadpole to know they all understood. Tav yanked Astarion into a hug, but it took a few moments for him to return the gesture. She flailed her hand around to find Gale’s sleeve and pulled him in too. Shadowheart looked like she was going to stubbornly ignore Gale’s outstretched arm but Astarion rolled his eyes. 

“If we are doing group hugs you can’t make me endure it alone,” he said to her. 

Shadowheart gave in, and no one mentioned the tears rolling down her cheek. Astarion’s heartbeat was in her ear, Gale’s hair tickled her face, and Shadowheart was smashed against her side with a desperate grip on her shirt. The fact they were all in each other’s head had made their time together intimate regardless of whether they wanted it to be or not. In the absence of it, Tav was ready to claim whatever closeness to them she could. 

“Can we get a victory drink now?”

There had been a small celebration at the Elfsong after the emotional reunion in the square. Rolan gave them their space. On the outside of her life, as he always seemed to be. A bittersweet contentment was living in his chest, to see her so happy and feeling that he had no place in her celebration. 

But he was not going to be the one who brought down the mood of the evening. He, afterall, had much to be grateful for as he spent the night drinking with his siblings, Alfira and Lakrissa. Some of the others from the caravan had even come out. By the end of the night, he made sure the very drunk heroes made it up to their suite and returned to the tower. 

Now that she was settled in with her friends, he had his bedroom back. When he laid down, his pillows still smelled of her. He loved it. He loved her. For so many days he had avoided calling it what it was, even in his own mind. He would admit to himself that she was as dear to him as his siblings, he would admit that he wanted her - sometimes so badly it felt like he was being burned alive, but calling it love seemed to be a nail in a coffin. 

Because Tav obviously wanted him in some way. She trusted him with her most prized possession, she asked him on a date before running off to save the world, and she was always looking for ways to bother him. But be it an Elderbrain, death itself, or some slip of the tongue that nearly started an argument it never seemed to come to anything. 

Rolan drifted off to sleep that night trying to figure out why. 

In the morning, he busied himself in the tower. There was still so much to do, and he had spent most of the past week running around the city. Eventually, the Sorcerer’s Sundries would have to reopen, and he had a lot to change around the upper levels of the tower. It saved his pride to be away from questions about Tav, and it was a temporary distraction. 

“There you are,” Cal came up sheepishly. “I know you said not to bother you — “

“And yet here you are.”

“There’s a lady down stairs,” Cal began. “She won’t go away, and she keeps asking for Tav.”

“You can tell her that the Saviors of Baldur's gate aren’t at the beck and call of any civilian who fancies meeting them,” Rolan grumbled, “and the Master of Ramazith’s Tower is not their secretary.”

“Rolan,” Cal called for his attention seriously. “She says she’s Tav’s mother.”

Thank you for reading!

#rolan x tav #rolan x oc #rolan fanfic #holy rolan empire #olly writes

[rikeijo]

Today's translation #617

Newtype 01/2017, Otsuka Manabu interview

Part 1.

-- Please tell us about the circumstances, in which this project started moving?

Otsuka: I first got to know about this project, when I was told about it by the Director, Yamamoto Sayo, when we were working together on a different project. At first, I was very uncertain, if I and the studio have enough power to keep up with Yamamoto Director's TV series, because she always has been known as being very particular about quality. But inspired by the charming characters created by Kubo (Mitsurou)-san that I saw later, and Yamamoto Director insatiable love for figure skating, I decided 'let's try to do it!" and accepted the offer to work on this project.

-- When was it that you started to be sure that this project would be fine?

Otsuka: Maybe it wasn't that I was 'sure', but after we showed the second PV at 'TV Asahi Natsu Matsuri' event, I was able to think that I would trust Yamamoto Director's intuition and just run with what she feels is right. The last cut in that PV was the scene, where Victor puts his finger on Yuuri's lip and the two look at each other. When I saw it for the first time, I thought "[if we are going to show this scene in the PV] won't men not want to watch the show?" and I was considering removing that one scene from the PV. But I've talked about it with female staff members, who thought it would be a shame to not include it and I decided 'Let's [with force] put it in then!". People at the 'TV Asahi Natsu Matsuri' event venue cheered when that scene was shown. In this show, there is a lot of things that my senses did not cover, but at that time, I was able to think that [working on the project] I would realize all those ideas that Yamamoto Director and Kubo-san come up with without fear.

[Notes: It's really interesting how in almost all his interviews, Otsuka mentions this idea that including in an anime what your average otaku perceives as 'fujoshi fan-service scenes' (regardless of the creator's intentions - like, in even in YoI, a huge number of people in Jp fandom still sees those scenes as nothing more but fan-service, because that's the default) will give the anime reputation of pandering to fujoshis, and men (anybody other than fujoshis really) simply won't even consider it worth checking out. Otsuka doesn't even try to hide it here or in his other interviews, and like I've mentioned in the past, the way they were promoting Yurio so much, when Otsuka himself was claiming that thanks to Yurio, men could watch the show and enjoy it, shows, imo, what was the committee's real problem with YoI and why it may seem like they fumbled the bag and failed to capitalize on its potential so much (very little official side content, very few Y&V official arts etc...) - they wanted YoI to not be a 'fujoshi-pandering anime', but 'a serious sport anime for everyone'.]

#yuri on ice #yoi translations #yuri on ice translation

[thebroccolination]

As someone who has never been interested in vampires, I am extremely excited for BounPrem's vampire series.

It's partially because I love BounPrem, sure, but it's mostly because I respect the amount of very professional research and preparation Boun has committed to the role over the past several years.

I just think his artistry should be honored by my diligent attention.

Boun is a professional vampire fetishist, and that man will neck like no man has ever necked before.

#in fairness i did love first kill #give me back my soft vampire lesbian and her soft monster hunter girlfriend netflix you bastard #the other two thai bl vampire series airing this year will probably be enjoyable to the people who enjoy vampires as a genre #i just had no interest based on the teasers and the couples #i also trust bounprem to make it feel very very queer #whereas like #i do not trust the other two series to do that #the bp one is exciting because boun has been begging for a vampire series for years and i love when someone puts their soul into a thing #he's just been so cute and happy about it #and the fact that boun's passion project is part of what got prem's interest and motivation back is just #man #i so hope they just have a total blast with it because boun and i deserve it #bounprem #the vampire project #dear boun please give the series a real name please thank you please

[azumasoroshi]

i think an incredibly funny part of the aiichi dynamic is that at least one of them has to be traumatized and/or possess incredible worldly exhaustion in order to even consider the other as a romantic love interest

like they need to go through decades and time loops of war and hopelessness and death and destruction in order to be like huh maybe this guy isn't so bad

of course this doesnt go for every fic (academy blues my beloved) but. a lot of them do and it's SO funny

#aiichi #and the award for the worst ship ever is....... #aiichi and monipai are like the two ships you would not catch me DEAD admitting i like in real life #i cant imagine how it is for the shippers on twitter dawg #the p*do accusations must be absolutely insane on there #like no!! im not into the super seme rich sugar daddy aizen and innocent baby uke ichigo dynamic!! that's weird!! #but them being besties after fighting for their lives together and learning to depend on each other #and aizen being fond of ichigo but trying to pretend he's not because mwahaha he's so evil and above it all #and ichigo not trusting aizen but finding himself rooting for aizen and discovering he's not bad company #like. cmon #and if it's in canon then ichigo being a true punk and siding with aizen because fuck soul society's cringe ass hierarchy #(academy blues my beloved) #i should read it again tbh #and forever with you never sounded so stupid #ahhh but it should be reserved for like a once every 5 years thing so that i totally forget everything #and can relive the absolute joy that is that fic series #bleach