#after a whole week and has no memory of his abduction

[sqlmn]

Happy 2023 have OCs from a plot that is older than a decade. None of these are the main characters lmao.

Ladd Moore (the main focus here) is an ass. Like just that’s his main trait. He’s outgoing and rude and a bit dense but incredibly good with technology. He’s in the field department of the Supernatural Bureau of Investigation (SBI) and sometimes when at HQ, research grabs hold of him to help with some tech. Only thing is, that’s between research leads and him. No one else in fieldwork thinks Ladd should touch a computer and most research staff think he’s annoying and stupid. So when he volunteers to fix something no one thinks he’s serious and they call research up and they go down and see Ladd watching them and just have to say “you didn’t want to help out the field division?” And he’s like “they told me no”.

His older sister, Lass, is also in the field department’s staff. Madison (Mads) is in research.

The siblings actually have a pretty traumatic childhood which is why Ladd follows his sister to this career. She thinks he’s being annoying but he wants to protect her since he blames himself for ruining her childhood… while she’s scared that it’s her fault for ruining his. So they don’t have the most peaceful relationship and it’s tense between them at times.

[surveilenceysystem]

「 MIRAGE 」

Character(s): Ateez x Fem!reader

Synopsis: The past is often times better left in the past. But what happens when it holds the key to the future.

Trope: Hero's journey

Genre: Fantasy, Sci-fi, Action.

Rating: PG-13

Chapter 1: Lingering habits

Trigger Warning: Smoking, Mentions of Depression, Mentions of Physical and mental illness, brief mentions of death, Mentions of a missing person, suggestion of abduction, Angst.

Divider: @cafekitsune

Network: @cromernet , @wonderlandnet , @cultofdionysusnet , @sandsofire

WC: 1k

A/n: I'm doing it I'm finally doing it.

For the past three years Choi San hasn't seen a single day where the sky wasn't darkened by clouds, masking the sunlight with a thick cover of storm clouds that seems intimidating as if it was threatening to bring down the heavens wrath on the land. A fury that the ocean under imitated. Violent sounds of waves breaking against rocks and cliffs and the smell of salt are carried by a cold wind laced with melancholy as he watches the waves crash against the shore, lapping around his Oxfords.

Choi San has been going to the beach every single day for the last three years. In fact, he turned it into a routine to stand by the shoreline as nightfall gradually approached and have a cigarette. His weak resolution actually led to the beginning of this habit; he had once read somewhere that it takes 66 days to create a habit and probably motivated by curiosity or need, he drove the fifteen minutes from his apartment to the beach in order to kick the smoking habit since it seemed especially hard to quit it just like that. Maybe the view would inspire him, he had thought.

That was a mere eight-day attempt. By the ninth day, his commitment to quit morphed to an episode of "self care" during which he would simply sit by the coastline and smoke. What was the reason? He had given it some thought. He was an adult who consciously chose to follow this terrible plan. One cigarette a day, as though it separated him from the rest. Ultimately, it will be fatal for him. One cigarette or an entire pack. Fuck it, it is what it is, the nihilist in him had said.

For him, nothing was truly significant anymore. Given his profession and the circumstances of the past few years, his life has effectively desensitised him to everything. He no longer experiences the happiness he once had. He no longer finds anything exciting. He's just surviving now, not living. using muscle memory to execute the steps. Mentally not quite there. He just came into existence. And nobody would notice his absence if he simply walked into the ocean in front of him. He was very aware of this.

It hadn't always been like that, actually this mindset of his was a recent development. Back then he was the most fun person in the room. He was the guy everyone went to if they needed anything fun. There were times in his life where his friends had woken him up at 2 in the morning and dragged him to a party because it was boring without him apparently. Hours that would go by where he and his friends would just fuck around in an empty parking lot of a store. He used to feel like that happiness would last forever. Well it clearly didn't.

Choi Jongho vanished in the summer of 2019. That day was fresh in San's memory like a new wound. It had been unbearably hot that August day—in fact, the heat and humidity had persisted throughout the whole week. San remembered sitting outside their neighbourhood convenience store with friends—people that day. After a dramatic game of rock, paper, scissors, Jongho lost and was assigned the honour of getting ice cream from the shop that was across the street.

San remembers when Jongho went into the shop, he loudly declared that he would lick each and every ice cream cone before giving it to them. He remembers that when Jongho was threatening them, everyone, even himself, was giggling at how adorable he looked. He remembers that after waiting for a long time, four of them entered the parlour before running out to let everyone know that Jongho was gone from the store.

Everyone initially believed that Jongho left them because he was angry with them. But as soon as the search party was sent out that evening, that theory was promptly abandoned. Despite the efforts of local volunteers, friends from university, and Jongho's parents, no one was able to find him. No amount of questioning or searching turned up any information. His case was eventually closed.

For him and the others, everything went downhill after that day. Jongho's parents soon left that town. They chose to leave the place where everything transpired because they were unable to cope with their one and only child going missing. And then it was as if all hell had broken loose. Within the friend circle, fights started to break out. They found a way to harm and accuse one another, whether it was by physical or verbal means. It felt like their very minds were being poisoned by that awful place. And on one day where the fights got particularly violent, Seonghwa had cursed everyone out– no, he outright screamed. His eyes were red from angry tears as he kept screaming how much he hated us. How he was done with everything here. Said that he'd rather die than see our faces ever again.

He left that night for the States.

Two days after Seonghwa's departure, San went apologise to him for everyone and found out about him leaving from the neighbour. It was like a kick to the gut. For something he hadn't even done, he felt terrible. But soon after, the melancholy gave way to anger toward the elder boy. He remembers meeting with everyone and telling them about it. He remembers Hongjoong laughing, saying that Seonghwa was a coward and all he could do was run away from problems. He remembers punching Hongjoong so hard that his knuckles felt numb. And he also remembers that was the last time he ever saw any of them.

He had effectively ruined his friendships with all of his friends from his past that day.

So imagine Choi San's surprise when one of those names from the past had suddenly sent him a message.

A message so oddly upsetting that he had finished a whole pack of cigarettes by the shoreline with no care of how his legs and back were wet from the salt water whatsoever.

(00)+419698327: They are reopening Jongho's case and want all of us back in the town for questioning— J.W

[aikaterini-drag]

Chapter 5 Barnes

Warnings (whole series): Violence, Non-Con Abduction, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual Tension, First Time, Emotional Sex, Protective Bucky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soft Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering,Barnes Gets all the Love he deserves.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

A week passed ever since Barnes' wipe. Silas and Rumlow stood within the confines of an office, nestled deep within the compound's metal walls discussing their plans. The facilities were once under full control but sadly Grace was in a horrible mental state. She was sleepless and frail, troubled by frequent asthma attacks, caused by her guilt and the pain she had inflicted upon the Winter Soldier. 

"From now on, Grace falls under your supervision," Silas said to Rumlow.

"Oh, that will be my pleasure," Rumlow responded then, after a brief pause, added, "And what of the Winter Soldier?"

Silas exhaled audibly. "He's wiped and under my control. I see no cause for concern."

"Is it possible the Soldier has some prior connection to her?" Rumlow asked, slumping against the wall beside him.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've been hunting Grace for years. The Winter Soldier was on separate missions, there's no connection."

"Then he was simply aroused by her. This has never happened before but it's possible. She is, after all, a woman."

"She is not a woman. She is a very valuable asset," Silas said strictly.

Rumlow cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be wise to maintain some distance between the two."

"No." Silas' lips curled into a calculated smile. "Grace needs to embrace her new role and the Winter Soldier is the means to make her obey."

"What do you propose?" Rumlow asked, hands clasped in front of him.

"Pain and discipline," Silas said. "They almost messed up my plans, so I'm going to shatter their bond before it's too late."

Rumlow wasn't excited to hear that. He'd rather keep the girl away from Barnes and discipline her himself. But he held his tongue, cautious about voicing his opinion. He observed as Silas made a series of calls, then pivoted to face him.

"Grace will be injected tomorrow. The serum is ready and I'm eager to test its side effects."

"But she is in a horrible condition," Rumlow said. "The doctors—"

"When did you become such a wimp, Rumlow?" Silas snapped. "Grace is here for a very important reason. She must serve her purpose and help Hydra ascend. Do you desire another assault from Captain America and his allies? Need I remind you of the burns on your face and the substantial loss of our forces?"

"I'll never forget," Rumlow ground out, his jaw clenched. "I'll never forget the havoc they wrought upon us."

"Fear not. Justice will be served," Silas said. "Now, bring the Winter Soldier to Grace. Order him to prepare her for the procedure."

Rumlow scrunched up his face. "You said I'd be in charge of her."

Silas shot her a look. "Keep her in check but without making your appearance known."

"Why are you doing this? I just don't understand."

Silas laughed. "As you said, Grace is in a horrible condition right now. Reuniting her with her cherished Soldier will not only shatter her spirit but turn her into a vulnerable mess for us to use."

"She's your daughter, though. Doesn't this affect you?"

"I'm touched by your concern, but you must not forget: I am an agent of Hydra," Silas retorted icily. "Affections are not allowed."

"Hail Hydra," Rumlow said, bowing his head in deference.

▪️▪️▪️

Exhausted and mentally bleeding, Grace felt nearly undone by the relentless events of the past days. Guilt, heavy as a shroud, coiled around her heart, each beat a reminder of what she had done. Sleep refused to visit her and even if it did, the nightmares attacked her nonstop. Visions of her mother's death hunted her, their tendrils of sorrow coiling around her consciousness. Another painful memory added to the agony; the Winter Soldier's screams, a piercing reminder of the pain she had unwittingly contributed to.

Did Hydra do this to him every time he tried to be himself?

Did they wipe him each time he attempted to show even the slightest sign of kindness?

Their treatment of him was brutal, unfair, and inhuman.

No human being, regardless of their past, deserved to endure such unrelenting brutality.

Grace wanted to forget everything that had happened lately but she knew it was cowardly of her. Relenting, she focused her mind and tried to remember fragments of the conversation she had gathered that day when she eavesdropped on the Soldier's conversation. The mysterious person had called him 'Bucky'. Silas had also shown great disrespect to him and Captain America.

Captain America or Steven Rogers was a renowned hero, loved and respected for his legendary status. She had read about him in a museum. During World War II, he led an elite squad called the 'Howling Commandos'. Their images were plastered all around the museum on huge banners and video screens, turning them into living legends. Grace mentally sifted through the faces of those courageous soldiers and almost cried out at the realization.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky!

There had to be a connection between him and the Winter Soldier! She faintly remembered the Sergeant's facial structure from the museum's banner and she now recognized the uncanny resemblance to the Winter Soldier. How hadn't she thought of that earlier?! Apart from the long hair and stubble, those two were one and the same. Bucky Barnes was a glorious hero, a symbol of the nation, a hero to the world.

And Hydra had manipulated him, forced him to forget all about his distinguished past.

Grave finally understood why the Soldier seemed to change moods from time to time. It was as if a battle raged within him, a constant struggle to uncover his true self and defy Hydra's insidious programming. But, thanks to her, all his efforts were in vain. Her childish curiosity and her inability to reign her emotions had created all this mess. He had been subjected to yet another brainwashing, and it was her foolishness, her inadequacy, that had put him in that devilish chair.

Consumed by regret, she sunk into the bed, tears rolling down her red-rimmed eyes. She couldn't stop thinking, begging some higher power to give her an answer. A solution. She had to find a way to save him, to get him out of this hellish place. There was no chance to save herself, but she could at least set him free and, in doing so, find a path toward her own absolution.

The sound of the door unlocking caused her to jerk, preparing herself for the worst. She placed both hands flat on the mattress and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. She wasn't sure she was prepared to face Silas and his demands. But the person who stood before her wasn't the one she expected to see.

Barnes. He was there.

And he looked completely dehumanized. The Winter Soldier.

She could only see his eyes. The rest was hidden beneath a cruel mask that covered the lower part of his face. He sported a thick leather jacket, one sleeve artfully removed to reveal the striking silver arm adorned with a crimson-star emblem. Guns and knives were secured around him as if he was ready to go out on a death mission.

As she gazed up to meet his eyes, it was clear that there were no emotions in him. The ache in her heart intensified. He was a shell. An empty shell. She swallowed a deep breath and studied whatever she could see on his face. The only positive perhaps was that he was healed. He was no longer covered in bruises and scars. And he wasn't feigning indifference this time. He was a Hydra agent to the bone, ready to strike and mistreat if they ordered him to.

A marionette, a puppet at the master's mercy.

And she was certain that Silas would find great pleasure in doing that. Just to hurt her and teach her a lesson.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's all my fault," she let the tears fall and stared at his cold face. "Forgive me."

Despite her plea, he remained unmoved, advancing towards her with purpose. His footsteps resonated with authority on the grimy floor, bringing him to a halt before her.

"Get ready. You are getting injected today."

"James? Is there nothing? For real?" she asked groggily, voice quiet. She deliberately mentioned his name, hoping to whole a reaction from him.

Yet, he held his silence, his cold demeanor unrelenting. Grace bit back her tormenting thoughts and, arming herself with courage sprang to her feet. She held back a wince at how weak her body felt and took two shaking steps, effectively closing the gap between them. She reached out with trembling hands, her fingers curling around the fabric of his vest. He instantly cupped her wrists and twisted them away but she persisted, clinging to him.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes! You're a hero," she said, her guts twisting with every word.

He did not speak and pushed her away.

"Bucky! Remember, Bucky!" she whimpered, seeking his eyes that held darkness and pain.

"Quiet."

"No! Shove me all you like, beat me but I still won't stop!"

Once again, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his sleeve. He shoved her away, his resolve unshaken. His repeated shoves were a clear indication of his desire to keep her at bay. But she didn't stop. Not even when he pushed her against the wall. She winched and pressed her nails deep into his fleshly hand as if trying to bridge the gap between them.

"This is not who you are. You're not the Winter Soldier! Your name is James! James Bucky Barnes. You must remember!"

She dragged off the hideous mask, his handsome face finally bared to her. She pinned him with her eyes, but he remained unaffected and distant. His face betrayed no emotions, even when she gripped his vest, pressing his huge body down until her chest pressed against his. They stood closely, faces inches apart, his broad frame enveloping her smaller one.

Next thing she knew, he wrenched her away and took three steps back, causing her to lose balance and fall to her knees. He quickly put his mask back on, his indifference unshaken. Grace trembled, her palms pressed against the floor. In seconds, agents swarmed around her, invading the space alongside Rumlow. Her chest clenched painfully, realizing the horrible situation she was in.

"Seducing the Winter Soldier again?" Rumlow clicked his tongue. "We can't have that, Grace. You've got a mission to focus on."

With that, she was grabbed and ushered to the test room. The nurses had changed her into a hospital gown and dictated her to take a seat in the medical chair. They had also hooked her up to an IV and forced her to swallow some sort of sedative pill to calm her down and make sure she stayed obedient. She could only look around as everyone wandered in a frenzy, getting ready for the anticipated injection.

Silas stood a short distance away, observing the scene with a critical eye. Rumlow was beside him, carefully assessing the doctors and nurses. As for the Winter Soldier, he was ordered by her father to stay close to her. As she had expected, Silas was having fun toying with her mental state, his smirking face proof enough.

"As you found out, you can no longer affect him," Silas said and sent her a strict glare. In response, the Winter Soldier remained stoic, eyes dead and focused.

"The way I see it, James Barnes can recover his true identity whenever he chooses," she said and made sure to emphasize his name. "You have proved to me that Hydra's control is utterly futile."

Silas' nostrils flared as he replied, "Behave or else I'll wipe him in front of you again."

"You're so weak," she countered boldly, tired of hearing his threats.

"What did you just say?" Silas snarled, approaching her with hostility.

"So you are deaf as well?"

"Watch it," Rumlow said. "Don't forget who you're talking to and what he can do to you."

Ignoring him, Grace glared at her cruel father and, if she wasn't mistaken, felt the Bucky tense up beside her. It happened too fast for anyone to notice but she was certain he had flinched. For one second, he had broken his facade and that was more than enough hope to make her weave a reckless yet daring escape plan for him.

In a heartbeat, she surged from the chair, the IV tearing free from her flesh. Exploiting the closeness to Barnes, she snatched one of the knives tucked in the holders on his vest. The blade gleamed in the room as she poised it against her neck. Guns pointed at her, Barnes widened his eyes but she retreated, waving her free arm, commanding them not to come any closer.

"Do not approach."

"Grace put the knife down. Now!" Silas yelled, his voice resonating with urgency.

"Release him. Let James Barnes leave. Now!" She pressed the knife deeper, causing blood to leak out. "Release him and I will stay here in his stead. I give you my word. You'll get what you want."

Silas hissed, his features contorting. "You're crazy!"

"It runs in the family," Grace said. "I'm your precious test subject. You need me, otherwise, you can't take the serum. You won't be able to revive Hydra."

"Is this your ultimatum?" Silas grumbled, observing her steady hands that betrayed no hint of hesitation. She wasn't lying, she had decided to free the asset, her strategy hitting him where it stung the most. He needed her. He couldn't proceed without her. And damn her, because she had backbone and determination.

"Yes! After everything you've put me through, I have nothing to lose. The least I can do is free him from being your puppet doll!"

Clutching the knife's hilt, her fingers went clammy with sweat. The room seemed to close in around her, the effects of the sedative spreading through. No. She had to hold on until he was safe. Her breath, though quick and shallow, carried the weight of her determination. She was intending to threaten Silas one last time when a metal hand gripped her blade, bending it with ease before tossing it away.

"Good thinking, asset," Silas said, a breath of relief escaping him.

"That's not my name."

That wasn't the voice of the Winter Soldier. That voice belonged to James Bucky Barnes crawling back to the surface and emerging victorious. Shedding his black mask, his gaze fixed upon her, his eyes penetrating her very soul. He was barely holding back the whole time, fighting not to succumb to her. Yet, she had caught him off guard. Grace believed in him, strongly enough to risk her safety to free him. And he decided to return the favor.

"Asset get away from her!" Silas bellowed. "You can't escape! Obey your handler."

"You've forgotten what I'm capable of," James said. "I'll clear a path if I must. We're both making our exit."

Grace could hardly believe what was happening. She was too awed yet too tranquil by the sedative to properly process the unfolding scene. James was shielding her with his body, confronting Hydra without an ounce of fear. She heard Silas laugh, and after that Hell broke loose at his command. James dragged them both into cover and gunshots erupted, echoing like thunderclaps. Shell casings clinked and clattered as they were ejected.

Through the haze of smoke and dust, Bucky pushed forward, his desire to save Grace stronger than any manpower Silas possessed. No one could match up to him and his skills— the skills Hydra had taught him. He was now using every bit of that knowledge to escape.

Following the escape route in his mind, he ducked, shot and weaved through the metal corridors, all while protecting Grace with all his might. His actions were choreographed with precision, each step calculated. Having lived in that godforsaken basement for years, he knew every single crevice, corridor and secret pathway.

Grace lost track of time, all the violence and noise made her dizzy. She saw every fight in slow motion as James ran past the terror. He was constantly holding her, guarding her with his body. He ran so inhumanly fast that sometimes her legs dangled mid-air as he swiveled her around.

Her eyes closed tightly at certain moments, willing away the blood that caused her stomach to lurch. She managed to control her erratic heartbeat, for once thankful that Hydra had sedated her. Without it, the violence would have been far more overwhelming to bear.

She was certain she lost senses for a while but when her brain caught up with what was happening, she found herself on a bike, her hands secured around his waist. A leather jacket enveloped her, his jacket. Her head found its resting place on his warm back, nestling against the contours of his body. The motorcycle roared and soared through the road, the wind whipping around them, tousling their hair. Grace smiled when she felt the bright sun kissing her face. Through hazy eyes, she watched the buildings around her fade away and smiled.

Freedom.

[walker-extended-universe]

These are all fics that have not escaped my drafts, not even for a single chapter. I can't provide links like the last poll series but I will provide a general summary below:

Cordell Teaching Stella and August how to hunt- HW

Summary: Cordell lets his kids in on their biological family history and introduces them to Sam and Dean.

Stella is pregnant with Trevor's kid

Summary: Me playing around with what I think was a missed opportunity after the "closed door moment" between Stella and Trevor at the cabin in 1x11. In the weeks following Trevor's arrest and everything associated with it, Stella finds out that she's pregnant. Terrified of telling her dad or her grandparents, August ends up being the first one to know, then Geri. I haven't plotted too much past this but she does keep the baby and Trevor does know about it but it's pretty obvious he won't be able to be involved given the prison time ahead of him.

Walkernatural Extra- Micki/Garrison Spinoff

Summary: Garrison didn't die and also he's a skinwalker. He asks Micki to help him hide and they run off into the sunset together.

Sam/Ruby but they're Cordell/Emily

Summary: Supernatural season 4 AU. Sam is spiraling after losing Dean and Ruby finds him. But after everything that happened in Hell after season 3, she's not keen on working for Lillith anymore. She tells Sam she can't go after Lillith or Dean, that he'd be playing right into Hell's hands. She's pretty sure someone else is going to get Dean out anyway, with all the players on the board. She convinces him to just move on and keep hunting, especially since some demons are coming after both of them. Sometime after that, they save the Walker family from monsters and Abby insists they at least stay for dinner. They end up sharing the whole story and the Walkers offer them a home and a place to hide. Sam is unsure since that would just be putting them in harm's way and that's a hard lie to sell, but Ruby can manipulate their memories and make it as if Sam and Ruby (or rather, Cordell and Emily) were always there. The Walkers agree and everything falls into place. Dean comes back on schedule and goes looking for Sam, but Bobby has no idea where he is and none of Dean's usual tricks work. He goes searching the old fashioned way and eventually finds him- but not before Emily is pregnant with their first child.

Cordell Davidson

Summary: AU in which Cordell is the missing Davidson baby. Abby and Bonham adopted him after some desperation to have a child. They didn't know he was the allegedly dead child until after Marv told Abby in 1995. They planned to tell Cordell but then the fire happened and there just never seemed to be a good time to tell him that the woman who accused him of murder was his biological mother. They don't end up telling him until after the Davidsons return 25 years later. It's a very awkward situation for everyone, except Gale who seems very happy to try and sweep all their dirty history under the rug.

Cassie got kidnapped too AU

Summary: AU in which Cassie was in on the boys' running club earlier on. She's close enough to Cordell when the abduction happened to witness it and ends up getting caught herself. They suffer through the torture together, but have very different recovery times as Cassie just can't seem to get past everything that happened to her.

William had the stroke AU

Summary: AU in which William was the one who went to the hospital and his previously unknown daughter contacts Abby about it. There's a family road trip to Dallas after Abby gets the call, which ends up being a blessing as she has support when she learns her brother hid his child from her for 20 years. Katherine offers them rooms in the B&B for as long as they want to stay.

HVW- Cordell and Gabriel at Stull Cemetary

Summary: Gabriel and Cordell go to confront their brothers at Stull cemetery. They fail to stop Michael and Lucifer from going through with the prizefight but they are able to save Adam from being pulled into the pit with Michael, Lucifer, and Sam. Adam gets folded into the Walker family.

Walkernatural Extra- All the Archangels and Brothers jump into the Cage

Summary: AU in which Cordell and Gabriel jump into Hell after their brothers

Walker got shot in 2x18 AU

Summary: Because it's more than a little ridiculous to me that Cordell made it out of that trailer with only a bullet to the hat. The Walker family escaped the nature park alive but once they're back in cellphone service range, they get a very worrisome call from James.

[avimour]

What drew Vaz and Crulexs to their love interests? Was there an instant connection between them, or was it more of a gradual build-up? What's their favorite things about their respective LIs?

Bonus question: Is there anything about their romances that went differently in your canon than it did in-game?

love time love time!! very on point seeing which holiday is coming up!

hmm i'll do a little doodle for each of them as well, just for fun. lost the desire to draw my boys.. sad. maybe ill do some other piece this week

everything under the cut!!

Vaz: Well. You see. To say Vaz had an easy time romancing anyone is absolutely mad men talk. Everywhere Vaz went for comfort, he either ended up being used, failure in general, or turned away for another...even before the whole, losing his memories thing.

All my durges have had a fling with Gortash. So Vaz, naturally, had a thing with Gortash for a time. But uh...well. That thing was incredibly one-sided and Gortash would use it for his own benefit. Vaz never got any pussy or kisses from him, to put it frankly. But he did do a lot of lil missions for Gortash anyways.

Vaz's second fling was with a tiefling named Levi. The two were on the nautiloid together and everything. Levi heard him out on his dark urges and ushered him into doing the Right thing instead of what the urges wanted. It was a match made in heaven! ...Until the tiefling party. Where Vaz clumsily wandered around without an idea what to do, and his dear friend Levi slipped away with Gale instead of him. The next morning he saw them kiss and he went into the seven stages of denial immediately. Both of them ended up as cellmates so...yay!

Vaz's third fling was with Halsin. It uh...didn't go too well. Vaz was pulled in by all the druidic talk and he just wanted to feel normal. He just wanted to feel like a normal druid too. But it didn't work out. They partook in one sexual encounter and it ended up with Vaz crying and a bad experience for the both of them. They didn't talk a lot after it and Vaz practically avoided everyone for days afterwards.

And finally... Vaz's last fling. The Emperor. Yeah, you can probably guess how that turned out. They both managed to get through their sexual encounter though! Vaz enjoyed being safe from his urges inside the dream world (??) with the Emperor. The Emperor enjoyed tightening their bond together so Vaz wouldn't turn on him or, really, convince Levi to turn against him. And just to exert a bit more control over Vaz, the Emperor lured several of their companions to see the aftermath. And then willed away their memories of the encounter. Only to send Vaz into a breakdown a few days later with the thoughts of 'Has he ever wiped my memory?'. He didn't go back for seconds with calamari.

The biggest departure from the original questions EVER!!!!! YIPPEE!!

Anyways, next.

Crulexs: His name is an anagram for cruel sex. This was not on purpose, but I've taken it to heart. Everything about him is related to his 'cruel sex'. He is the embodiment of toxic masculinity. And, in that toxic masculinity, certain types of people are drawn into him.

Gortash was incredibly drawn into him. I have a fic in the works (in my mind) of just how drawn into Crulexs this man was. The big burly scaly cleric who looked down on him? Yeah that got him. He had a big stupid crush on Crulexs that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he tried to crush it (ha). Thankfully, it wasn't unrequited. However he found that out in the worse way possible. With Crulexs kidnapping him and taking him into the Bhaalist Temple in order to wed the both of them together. Under the blessing of Bane as well. What's a little bit of tyranny without a forced wedding to strengthen a union? He would've stayed down in that temple if it wasn't for his bodyguard, Karlach, saving him. (This is a retelling of Persephone's Abduction because i am literally insane.)

Of course, Gortash still saw Crulexs. Just, not bound in the Bhaalist temple and having to do weird blood rituals with him. Wasn't his thing, you see. They're still married, in the Bhaalist traditional manner, whatever the fuck that means.

Unfortunately...it all had to end somehow.

After his betrayal to the hands of Orin, after his memories had all left him, Crulexs was a different man. Even Bhaal saw him differently, though he wasn't...practically looking at him. An avenger against all that was evil, Crulexs roamed the land looking for those to strike down. Along the way, he meet a variety of companions, and specifically, he met Wyll Ravengard, the man who could win his heart.

It wasn't a challenge or anything. Most of the people that knew Crulexs weren't...really wanting to kiss him. The others who did were mostly wanting him because he was..a big, burly scaly paladin. Most, however, were put off by the whole silent and toxic masc bit.

Wyll, however, saw in him a lot more than that. He saw someone with similar ideals to him, and someone who was just as devoted. He managed to spring up more...less toxic masculinity into Crulexs as well. Little poems that Wyll would write hidden in his tent. And would do his best into slipping into the silliest places that Crulexs would find them. Into his boots, into his gloves, into his bedroll. In a book he would pick up, because he picked up every book he found, and skim the pages of.

It didn't take a genius to figure out it was Wyll behind them. And the little poems cleared up some of the dark clouds of Crulexs' soul. He started to actively seek out Wyll while at camp, instead of simply staring into the fire. Began to sit with him as the nights wore on. Sometimes even slept outside his tent like the guard dog he is.

[smoments]

✧ part 8: memories of a stranger // a satosugu reincarnation au

chapter 8: a long time coming

His name is soft on Suguru’s lips, and Satoru thinks he’ll never get tired of hearing it said like this; as though each syllable is something precious. 

Suguru smiles down on him gently, but his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the tilt of his head - they all radiate concern to the highest degree. He looks like comfort, like warmth. And Satoru has never faltered at anything as insignificant as the weather before, but suddenly the cold is making his whole body tremble.

“Satoru, what on earth are you doing without an umbrella? You’ll catch-“

Before Satoru can figure out exactly what he’s doing, he’s hugging him, and his arms are wound tightly around Suguru’s neck and his face is buried in his shoulder and suddenly his shivering has stilled and his heart is rising in his throat and maybe it’s too much, too intense for what’s supposed to be a first touch but he doesn’t care because it feels just like he imagined - no, better -

Suguru nearly stumbles backward in surprise- but a second passes, a beat of hesitation, and then he envelops Satoru in return, his umbrella hitting the sidewalk beside them. His palm finds his upper back and settles between his shoulder blades, his grip gentle but firm - firm enough that Satoru can almost imagine he needs him as much as he does Suguru.

And in this moment, wrapped up within this little space of time that belongs exclusively to them, Satoru feels his body relax.

They remain like this, holding each other, for what feels like hours but is probably just shy of a minute, and even when the silence is broken, neither of them moves an inch.

“Satoru, what’s wro…” Suguru begins, but his voice breaks on the last word, the smoothness of his tone melting away like a layer of ice and revealing something rough and vulnerable underneath. Satoru feels the hand on his back shift to his neck and tighten imperceptibly, and then he goes silent and when Satoru looks at him again, his eyes are glassy. 

He lets out a short, slightly choked laugh.

“Jeez, Suguru. You’re always worrying about me and you’re the one crying now?”

“Shut… up.” 

Satoru smiles against his coat - a proper rain jacket, of course - and shifts his hand to rest on the back of Suguru’s head, fingers catching in his long, silky hair in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. 

“Why’d you call me here, anyway?” 

Suguru shakes his head gently, as if exasperated with himself. 

“I know, I shouldn’t have. Why’d you come, anyway? You’re such a big baby when you get even a little sick.”

“Suguru! No I’m n-“

Satoru is mid-laugh, mid-protest, when their gazes catch and simultaneous realization dawns on them.

Suguru has known him for mere weeks, and Satoru has been the picture of health the entire time. Well, physically. Emotionally, he's been quite the wreck.

“How did you know that?”

He coughs, averting his eyes.

“…you just seem like that type.”

“Try again.”

“I’m a stalker.”

“Called me here to abduct me?”

“Exactly.” 

Suguru winks at him, and Satoru lets out a breathless laugh, pulling away for a second to look him in the eyes. Suguru blinks at him as his eyes run across each of his features- from his eyes to his nose to his lips and back again, taking him in thoroughly and appreciating the striking resemblance he bears to those sketches. 

Who is he kidding? Of course he looks like those sketches. It’s him, after all. 

“Damn, I’m a good artist,” he murmurs as if to himself, trying to convince his steadily increasing heartbeat that reaching out to touch Suguru’s face would be totally crossing the line. He coughs into his fist.

“What?” 

He grins at Suguru’s adorably puzzled expression and reaches for the sketchbook in his pocket, huddling closer to his side as if to shelter it from the rain. His warmth is contagious, he thinks as their arms brush through their clothes - or maybe that’s the heat rising to his face. 

“Suguru, look.”

Suguru blinks slowly, his lashes casting soft shadows over his cheekbones as he processes what he’s seeing, and then lifts his wonder-filled eyes from the paper to Satoru’s face. 

“What’s this? Of me?”

Satoru looks down at the page himself for the first time, having previously been too absorbed in the look on Suguru’s face to pay the artwork itself any attention, and sees that it’s a headshot - his complexion has a youthful glow about it, and his hair is tied in that characteristic bun; he looks like Satoru imagines he would have in high school, had they met earlier. 

“Of you. Guess when?”

“Huh? Well, recently, I assume? But, Satoru, why did you-“

“Two years ago!”

A shocked silence hangs between them - one that admittedly lingers more on Suguru’s side, since the other is grinning like an idiot. 

“Sooo? Any excuses?” 

“This is a joke.”

“Suguruu, why would I lie to you?”

“This isn’t a joke. What the hell?” 

To Satoru’s relief, he sounds more bewildered than angry, and he watches as Suguru flips through the sketchbook, his gaze sharp and almost hungry as he absorbs each scrawled-out curve of ink like he’s trying to tattoo it into his eyelids. Satoru is so engrossed in his expressions that he catches the exact moment in which the implications finally settle onto his shoulders; Suguru stiffens slightly, his glossed-over eyes clearing, and looks up again.

“Yeah, you definitely couldn’t have done all of these in a week.” 

“Um… thank you?”

“You’re so… how can you be so casual about this?”

“Well, considering I’ve had time to freak out already, there’s no reason for me to do so again publicly. Plus, Suguru…”

He inclines his head at him, the gesture almost teasing if not for the hint of desperation, of pleading, that is written on his face.

“Are you really so surprised?”

And, not for the first time when Gojo Satoru is involved, Suguru falters. 

He thinks back to his memory of what must be some kind of school, so familiar and yet somewhere in which he’s sure he’s never stepped foot. He thinks how he can’t remember the wants and needs of anyone ever being so close to second nature for him. Sure, Suguru has always been regarded as a thoughtful person, but it’s simply his good memory and his ability to keep his mouth shut and listen when other people might not. 

When it comes to Satoru, it’s more than memory- it’s all been ingrained in him since before he can remember. 

He’s not sure what to say. He settles on this.

“No. I… I remember. I don’t know what, but I do.”

And the relief that washes over Satoru’s face makes every one of his reservations slip into insignificance.

“I thought- I thought I would have to list all the signs. I thought I’d have to shove it in your face.”

Suguru clicks his tongue, averting his eyes from the almost palpable joy radiating off of Satoru. 

“I’m not sure why you think I’m so cruel.” He responds in an attempt at flatness that comes across as shaky, soft. 

“You know it’s nothing like that, Suguru.” Satoru protests indignantly, leaning closer for emphasis. “I just needed to know. I mean, I had my questions before, too, but you seemed so- so casual, and-”

“Casual? Me?”

Suguru wonders if they’ve actually met before, or if Satoru is seeing an entirely different person when he looks at him. He’s been quite the opposite of casual, recently - all nerves, in fact. He’d been sure it was written all over his face. But the way Satoru is looking at him is too raw, too genuine to be some kind of joke.

“...yeah. I didn’t think it was possible. I didn’t think you remembered.” 

Suguru hesitates, trying to steady the trembling that he knows will show in his voice if he attempts to speak, and then gives up. His head tilts against Satoru’s in a way that he can’t write off as platonic, his nose grazing the crook of his neck. He breathes in, and a familiar scent envelops him; cedarwood, with a hint of something fresh and warm. A beach that’s just soaked up a day’s worth of sunlight.

“Of course I remember you, Satoru.”

Satoru throws his arms around him, then, for the second time, holding him so tight it’s like he’s worried he’ll slip away if he doesn’t - and this time, he doesn’t let go until much later. 

-

“Man, screw this. I’ll just repaint it, if it’s that big of a deal to you.” 

Satoru mutters to himself under his breath; a pointless attempt at spite considering he’s already lost the argument. He’s seated at his desk with one leg on the chair, his canvas balanced precariously between the corner of the surface and his fingers. 

His dramatic tendencies do get to him sometimes.

“Ughh. Are you happy now?”

He shuts one eye and holds the painting up to his face, unable to deny the calm that settles over him when his stare falls to the newly painted betta fish, now moving towards each other on a diagonal across the canvas. 

“They’re just dumb fish anyway. It’s not like-”

He sets it back on his desk as he speaks, mixing up the perfect shade of cerulean for the eyes of the white one - he’s settled on a clear sky blue, bright and stark against its pale body. His eyes catch on this point, the gears of his brain turning, and then they flick to the hazy reflection of his face in his phone, propped up against the mini tripod on his desk. 

A perfect match. 

-

“Satoru, we’re going for karaoke after class. You guys coming?”

“Me and who-?”

He turns to look at Shoko as he swings his messenger bag over his shoulder, brushing eraser shavings off the fabric. Then, he pauses mid-motion, blinking in surprise as he takes in her appearance. 

“You cut your hair.”

“Just noticed? We’ve been talking for, like, five minutes.”

Shoko twirls a strand of her newly chin-length bob between her fingers, not sounding particularly offended.

“I’ve been feeling nostalgic recently. Plus, it was getting annoying,” she explains in response to his unvoiced question. 

“Annoying how? Just use the two in one stuff.”

“Okay, Satoru, not all of us are blessed with your naturally perfect silky-smooth hair genes. You could shampoo with motor oil and it wouldn’t matter.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point. Don’t get too down on yourself, though, Shoko. We all have our weak points. Well, except me!” He pats her on the back comfortingly, and she rolls her eyes at him. He continues.  

“Hey, you look great, though. No, seriously! Very free. You should audition for one of those shampoo commercials where they blow their hair around and stuff. Anyways, karaoke… We’ll be there!” 

“Great, I’ll tell Nanami. He’s been on my ass all day about how we need to book in advance or whatever. And see? I knew you could figure out who I was talking about. You’re smarter than you look, Satoru.”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh, nothing. Let me know if you see any openings for shampoo models.” 

“Will do!”

[riewritten]

𝐎𝐈𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 · CHAPTER ONE · AO3

˚ · .─ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: YOU, a college student in Frankfurt, start receiving emails that embarked the dim of normalcy you worked so hard to build on your own; starting from a message claiming you as the light amidst the hell of Kinderheim, who came just in time to bring a paradise of doomsday and grime, something that pleased the monster inside him. Initially, you thought of reporting the email as spam until another ding came: the monster, so pleased and full, is aiming to return the favor—something to flesh out the paradise you had granted him back at Kinderheim.

˚ · .─ 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎: Johan Liebert/Fem!reader | 6.4k words

˚ · .─ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: explicit language, canon-typical violence, stalking, manipulation, obsessive tendencies, paranoia, abduction, threats of sexual assault, among many things that might arise.

For a fire to start, there must be friction. For a fire to scatter, there must be air. To maintain the fire, the environment must be tolerable.

"And the prairies would do," the little boy, who seems like he just came out from a deep slumber, beams at you.

And so you look around. Indeed, luckily for you two, because this little sanctuary is surrounded by prairies. 

"But, Johan…" you whisper because the little boy asked you to. He entrusted you with a top-secret, after all. "Why burn the whole place?"

Johan stays still. Cold smile, half-lidded eyes. You only realize how lightweight he is when he places his palm on your head. His aura is enormous, darkly so, that it often overwhelms you. You wonder how Johan's simple pat on the head could ground you from his quiet but menacing presence.

"You said you want to see the fireworks up close."

"I did…? Oh, yes, I did, but that was a long time ago!"

"Only two weeks ago," Johan corrects.

"You could remember?"

"Everything you say is etched in my memory."

"Because I'm special?"

Johan smiles, "Because you're special."

You chuckle innocently as your silly little brain can't perceive that silly little remark as something deserving of alarm. After all, Johan is special for you, too.

He's the first friend you ever had. The first kid that has been introduced to you by Daddy. Daddy had constantly introduced you to people of his age. Whenever you ask, "Why not a person of my age? I want a friend!" Daddy had the same answer: it needs to be—for his work, for your house, for your storybooks, for your clothes, and for the food you eat. And with his cold smile, he adds, "It's how the world works. No child would prosper without an adult." His smile gets even more uncanny when he quips, "Worry not because when you grow up smart, you'll be introduced to children like I introduce my men to you. By then, you'll understand. By then, you could replace me."

But you don't want to replace him or his so-called men, for that matter. Something about them unnerves you. Sometimes, you don't even remember what happens after Daddy introduced them to you. You'd just know it when you come home with a new storybook. That was it. That's the only thing you could decipher.

So Johan's arrival in your life was a momentous change. His presence changed the direction of the air, perhaps towards something more sinister. But what could be more ominous than the storybooks, let alone Daddy's workmates? If Johan is with you, sinister would be a secondary thing. The excitement cradled with Johan's gentle presence would be the primary.

And how could you not deem him special when he suddenly went to you with myriads of ideas so that you could see fireworks up close, just because you said you wanted to?

"But, Johan, there might be a reason why fireworks are thrown to the sky."

"What would happen if it wasn't thrown to the sky?"

You look around the prairies and the building. Then, your face gets etched with pity. "What a waste of beautiful things," you thought to yourself.

Johan walks to you, nonchalant, full of poise. He carefully hoists your hair to put a red spider lily on your ear. Then, he replies, "You're right. Everything would get burnt to a crisp. The prairies would be no more. We will be none but dust in the wind."

A strange urge came to you, then. Run. Run away as fast as you can. However, the urge was weak. Curiosity riddled you more. Yes, it could be indeed frightening, but you were so used to it. Storybooks and the sessions with Daddy's workmates gave you a primal urge to run at first, but it all faded when you got used to it.

You stay silent as he looks at you with a subtle adoration—almost proud of how the flower accentuates the features of your face. Just as if it's not the same flower that'd be burnt down to a crisp if he gets to show you the fireworks up close.

Suddenly, you reach for your leather shoulder bag to grab a book, "Just like this one?"

Johan's sleepy-looking eyes lighten up. You know it excites him whenever you bring a storybook with you. He loves reading it more than you do. If not for the policies inside the sanctuary, which you're obviously not aware of, you were sure Johan would've brought it back with him.

The book cover is a paper mache of matchsticks and flames. You had always loved caressing it as you slept. Still, seeing Johan's dazed eyes towards the book right now, you figure it'll always be worth sharing whatever's yours with him.

Daddy said you two share a lot of similarities. You honestly don't see it if you were to compare personalities, but if that was why he introduced you to Johan, then you might as well cling to it. Daddy said Johan meets no other children aside from you. Daddy said Johan, just like you, only gets to talk to the adults. Daddy said the only difference between you two is that you live in an actual house. In contrast, Johan lives inside the sanctuary where Daddy works. Daddy said, Daddy said, Daddy said, Daddy said—

"Thank you, really," Johan calls your name. "The book keeps me awake."

"It's okay to be a sleepyhead, though. Daddy said your quizzes are much harder than everyone else. You're such a hard worker that I could give you everything that's mine!"

Johan's face darkens at the mention of so-called quizzes; hence, you reiterate, "If it'd help you do better in Daddy's quizzes, then you could take whatever's mine. They said everything that's mine has been given to me for being a good girl. You're a good boy, too. And so every piece of mine is yours, too!"

Johan's voice, unlike earlier, is much quieter now. "You resemble someone."

"Do I?"

"Someone I must never forget."

Your smile widens. Suppose your presence alone helps Johan remember someone he must never forget—it'd be unnecessary to give him everything that's yours so he won't leave you alone. "That's wonderful. Are they why you could withstand Father's difficult quizzes?"

Johan didn't answer. His smile, albeit his usual one, is much darker and more complex to decipher. 

You remove the red spider lily from your ear, walk towards him, and gently hold his hand with the flower. Your foreheads bump—perhaps it's your statement to the wind that whatever darkness and terror your friend has inside him, you're not afraid to stick to it—just like the match head is to its igniter or the pin stuck in a grenade.

You don't know why, but it makes you proud. Not anyone could do that. Not even Daddy. Not even his workmates in the sanctuary. Only you.

"Let me visit you as much as I can, then. I'm gonna visit you until you can be with that person again, the one you must never forget."

"Would you?"

"I would!"

After all, Daddy said you're not much different from him. And Johan is special. And he holds you special, too. And he'd devise ways to show you the fireworks up close because you said you wanted to. And you'd love it. Your curiosity would be more palpable than the terror because you're used to it. You're used to it all.

You shot your eyes awake, terror filling every crevice of your skin. You feel hot. Despite the sunny weather, autumn-like sky from the window, and the vivid dream about a poor child who seemed to be a lovely friend, it feels like you're quenched in an oil well fire.

Your breaths are staggered, loud. Your mouth is open, gasping for air as if it just went through hours-long of suffocation. Your throat hurts. Your eyes are drenched with tears, just as your skin is soaked with sweat. You look at your surroundings to ground yourself, but everything seems spooky. One tiny sound would make you faint out of fear. Your eyes linger on the spare bed of your dorm.

"Frieda is right. I need a roommate as soon as possible."

Perhaps the source of your recurrent nightmares was the heap of emails you've been receiving recently. Your friends in college were quite conflicted when you talked to them about it. Half of them, which includes Frieda, said you must file a blotter at the police station at this point. The other half, however, deemed the messages as something sweet. They told Frieda and others not to overreact because the emails were too cryptic to qualify as stalking.

"Too cryptic, huh?" Frieda grimaced. "The sender is named 'Monster,' for heaven's sake!"

"Maybe an exaggeration? Like some sort of 'You might as well call me a monster, for I could only be satisfied once I devour your enormous love' type of monster?"

"Ew!" Frieda shuddered. "It better be that type of monster, but the latest email just creeped me out!"

"Really? What did they say?" the other friend turned to you.

You sigh. You really don't want to think about it anymore. "The Monster said I was the one who brought him the 'paradise of doomsday and grime' and that he'd come to me at last to return the favor I did for him back at Kinderheim."

You froze at the last word.

"Kinder—what?"

"Okay, 'the paradise of doomsday and grime' was actually creepy. But hey, in my defense, the previous emails sounded like a profession of love!"

Kinderheim. Kinderheim. Kinderheim.

You barely skimmed the email this morning, so the word Kinderheim passed from one ear to another. Or maybe you just blocked out the needed energy to decipher what it meant because the message came right after you woke up. Only now that you are at the school cafeteria and sipping an iced coffee with your friends did you realize that Kinderheim was a very familiar word that triggered a primal fear in your head.

The next thing you know, your friends are done talking about the email and are focused on calming you down because of trembling and crying. You ended up at the infirmary after lunch. After witnessing your meltdown, Frieda couldn't gather the headspace to her next class; she insisted on accompanying you instead.

"Sorry for not telling you this sooner, but—" Frieda gulps, "I've found you a roommate. I'm getting really paranoid about the emails. After what happened today, I'm sure you must not be left alone in your dorm for the meantime."

Much to Frieda's surprise, you squeeze her hand to ease her worries. "Thank you, really. My nightmares are worsening, too. Every sound inside the dorm kind of scares me."

"Oh god. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you."

You shake your head, "You don't need to. Your grandma isn't getting any younger. Just introduce me to the roommate you've found." Frieda is the most trustworthy friend you've had for god knows how long, so you don't doubt the screening process she did with the roommate in question. 

"She's a very, very pretty girl, let me tell you! She's a recent transferee from Law who's been dorm-hopping for a week now, and she saw my poster on the bulletin board."

"Recent transferee from Law? What's her name?"

"Anna. She's the talk of the town! I can't believe you haven't heard of her yet! She's mysterious but very amicable. I was able to screen her nicely, though, don't you worry! And oh, I think both of you would click."

"Why do you think so?"

"You're similar to each other in ways I couldn't explain," Frieda pondered. "Maybe it's because you grew up with foster parents…?"

You let out a strained chuckle, "Just because of that?"

"Ugh, I told you I don't know how to explain it. Be the judge once you meet her! And be quick to get well because I can't introduce you to her in that state, okay? The pros of having her is that she's ready to move in as soon as tonight."

"Tonight?! Wait, that's too soon!"

"But it's quite a pity, you know? She's been staying at the hotel near the campus since her transfer. She looks wealthy, but we both know how expensive hotels are in this economy! Give some college girl a slack!"

If this were normal circumstances, your face would turn sour at how fast the transaction was. However, Frieda's grandma owns the apartment. If it's her granddaughter who arranges things concerning roommates—let alone with someone from the same campus—it'd be faster than needed.

"How about the down payment? Her lease? Hell, when did she even reach out? Why are things happening so fast?!" you ask, albeit futilely. Deep inside, you're wondering if you had cleaned your room enough for a visitor to come.

"I was initially planning to let her in a week after I tell you, but today was an emergency. You really need a company tonight. Anna told me she needs a place as soon as possible, so this arrangement would benefit her. And she had sent the down payment already."

"Without visiting the place first? If I were Anna, I'd deem you quite sketchy."

"Heh. Anna doesn't need to take a look inside. Don't you know where you're staying right now has always been eyed by the students?! You're just lucky you got the 'best friend pass!'" Frieda crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue. "Besides, I'm sure she wouldn't bother visiting the place anymore when I already gave her the pictures. And she's quite excited to meet you, too."

"She knows me?"

"She said one of her classmates has a crush on you. I'm frustrated that I couldn't get the name out of her, though! Seems like she really is a trustworthy friend."

It made you excited to meet her, too. And oh, Frieda really did not lie at all. She is such a pretty girl—no, pretty would be an understatement.

Stunning could be the nearest term.

You only return to your senses after Anna flashes a sweet chuckle. "My hand is getting numb."

"O-oh! I'm so sorry!" you frantically shake hands. "It's just that you're so beautiful I got lost. Frieda didn't warn me enough."

"Hey, I did warn you!"

"Oh dear," her voice is even sweeter than her face, "how lovely it sounds from a pretty girl like you." Rarely did you ever blush with someone praising you, and for some reason, the honey in her voice didn't help ease the butterflies either.

Frieda helped fix Anna's stuff, which shockingly was a little. The house wasn't that huge—a typical townhouse, if one must say—but the one and only bedroom is designed for two people. That's why it felt pretty empty when only you were sleeping on it.

Anna insisted on cooking dinner while you settled on washing the dishes. She initiated a get-to-know-you conversation, and you were glad to follow through. But then, perhaps Frieda was right when she said you and Anna share many similarities. You could see through her while talking—her gestures, cordial eyes, and eloquence seemed programmed, to say the least. That would take time to practice, and you know how long and hard it'd take. How else would you know if you're not the same as her?

Unlike other people, communication wasn't conventionally taught to you. You were meticulously taught to do so. And you just know Anna was, too. Ordinary people who learned it naturally stutter and space out occasionally, and the awkwardness will be apparent if you squint your eyes. You've been scrutinizing this for as long as you remember. You'd believe someone if they say it's possible for a human being to be born at age ten, already equipped with basic human abilities, despite not knowing the reason why.

But then again, if you don't have any memories of your life below age ten, how could you know you weren't taught conventionally? How could you see through Anna? How do you know she underwent the same process as you did? How? How? How? How?

Anna gently called your name with her palm, caressing the top of your head, dissipating the fiery pit of your deeply rooted curiosities. 

However, even her hand feels unusually familiar, too.

"I'm gonna turn off the lights now. Is it okay?" Anna gently asks.

"Where are you from?"

If Anna was taken aback, she showed no sign of it. Instead, she quips, "Does it have any relevance to me asking to turn off the lights?"

You look away in a flush, "N-no! I-I mean, yes, you may turn off the lights. It's just that I'm not yet over with our getting-to-know-each-other conversation."

"You seem tense today. Frieda told me something had happened and that I needed to move in tonight. Looking at you now, I think you were the reason why." Anna lies on her bed and snuggles inside her futon. She faces you with a smile.

Frieda and you will have to talk as soon as tomorrow comes. However, Anna's honey-laced voice exuded sheer comfort. It's as if she could take whatever you'd tell her. She seems like a person who could put things together despite your incoherence. And it's something remarkable because you have never met someone like that. Your friends had always described you this way, but never did you appreciate the charisma of it until you met Anna tonight.

"I'm having nightmares recently about a strange little boy in a strange little sanctuary. It's so vivid and recurrent that one could think it really happened."

Anna stays silent, but her kind eyes coax you to continue.

"The sanctuary is in the middle of a vast prairie. I have so many storybooks to read, and I share them with this one tiny, pitiful boy who looks like he just woke up from years-long sleep."

"That's a rather wholesome dream. What made it a nightmare?"

"Because he suggested burning the sanctuary and the people inside it just because I told him I want to see the fireworks up close. We discussed how the grass could help turn everyone and everything into dust. And we were so giddy doing so. It's such a nightmare for children to think of something that cruel."

"Is it really a nightmare for children to think about such things?"

"Obviously?" you chuckle nervously. "Do you think otherwise?"

"But what are children's words if not things passed down to them by adults?" Anna trails, "Cruelty is as inherent as our primal fears. No being would survive without it."

Your eyes widen.

"See, if lions teach their cute little cubs to gobble innocent deers who have their own babies, what more could human beings do?"

"You're justifying children's mass murdering tendencies, Anna."

"Am I wrong, though?"

Oh crap. Frieda might've gone wrong with her screening.

Anna calls your name, "Are you and your little friend wrong for wanting to see a firework up close at the expense of prairies and the sanctuary? Is it so bad for children to think of goals in a manner taught to them by adults? Why fear something so natural?"

After a while of not speaking, Anna slowly sits and scoots her face near to your frozen one. You could smell the flowery scent of her hair and the oh-so-pleasing soap she had used to wash her face. Amidst her pleasant smell, nothing else could enter your mind but horror. Her presence is quite similar to your dreams. As Anna's face scoots closer, she's becoming more familiar, too.

When the proximity is only centimeters apart, she blows in your face and says, "Boo."

You sit up in a panic and scream, then quickly return from it upon hearing Anna's chortles. This is the first time you've seen her laugh, heartily so. Throughout the day, her smiles have always been controlled, the same way as her words and gestures are composed. The tears forming in her eyes due to laughing don't seem calculated this time.

"That's mean, Anna!"

"Sorry, sorry," Anna tries to wipe the tears with her fingers. "It's just that you look so cute when scared. I can't help myself."

The flush forming up your face doesn't help you at all. It may prove Anna's point, even. You turn your back to her, annoyed. "Frieda brought you here to accompany me as I sleep, not to make my night harder!"

"Should I turn the lights on, then?" she slyly asks.

"I'm not a kid!"

Anna's chuckles wrap the room again, "Sorry for scaring you. I'll make up for it."

"How? I'm totally terrified to close my eyes now."

Anna hums in pondering. You're still determining if she's thinking of ways to take back what she did or mess around with you more.

"Okay, you could take it this way: if you dream of the same boy again, maybe you could ask him a question," Anna starts. You face her again, confused, and so she continues. "Ask him why he'd grant your wish at the expense of human lives, the beautiful flowers, the grassland, and even the sanctuary itself."

"How would that help me?"

"Once your empathy surpasses the fear, your nightmares would stop being nightmares."

Oh.

"Don't worry, I'll stay here," Anna gives you a sweet smile. "Tell me his answer first thing in the morning."

You're unsure if it's because of Anna's impact on your first day together, but the little Johan in your dreams became clearer.

It was Anna's face, or rather, Anna if she were a young little boy.

"How silly," you thought to yourself. Now, you're sure the dreams are not the memories scraped off from your brain before you turn ten.

Two months later . . .

Life is good. Every morning is not filled with fires. You have the best roommate who compensates for her mysterious presence by pampering you. You're not a kid (you never became one). You never had a sinister childhood friend. You were a particular case of a human being born out of nowhere with a ten-year-old body, uncanny eccentricities, unrooted trauma, and fear of abandonment. It's better to put things that way.

But it isn't. How bad. Do you hope it works that way? Things are, in fact, getting worse on your end.

Anna was so present in the first month of moving in that you got so dependent on her, especially when having nightmares. Anna is so easy to wake up that you even wonder if she really is asleep the whole time. Anna would sit on your bed, squeeze your hand with her broad fingers, tuck you in while caressing your head, and whisper sweet nothings. When morning comes, she'd ask you about the nightmares, particularly about Johan. Then she'd ask you how you perceive Johan based on the dream. She speaks as if Johan is not a fragment of your dream, that she knows the boy personally, and that she knows the overall premise of your nightmares even though you only tell her the gist of it. It's as if Anna knows everything about you.

Despite the uncanny development between you two that needs to be assessed because otherwise, things could get a bit toxic, you couldn't help but cling to her. How could you not, when she's always there, so aware of what to do whenever you don't? How could you quench this dependency when she rarely comes home now, and the creepy emails from the Monster are increasing alarmingly? How would you sleep alone in a room designed for two when the Monster tells you things only your close friends would know? You're getting a bit too paranoid—delirious, even—during midnight meltdowns that you start cutting people off. It continued until Anna and Frieda were your only close friends left because you were sure neither would be the Monster. You sense Frieda's utter worry, but at least leaving Anna in your circle of trusted people tempered her anxiousness.

One midnight, right after you woke up from a nightmare showing the burnt sanctuary cradling corpses of so many children, you felt the most tormenting headache of your life. But Anna wasn't there to help you. You had to force yourself out of bed, wear your hoodie despite being drenched in cold sweat, and search for the nearest 24/7 pharmacy.

As if the night couldn't get worse, a strange tall man with a pointed nose and black trench coat approached you. He looked like he hadn't slept for days, and his dead eyes riled your intimidation towards him. With a small smile, he asks, "You don't seem well, young lady. Need help?"

"No," you grimace, the headache and paranoia increasing your irritability. "I can manage."

"The pharmacy is three blocks away from here. I can accompany you."

"How could I know you're not gonna bring me somewhere else?"

"You've got pepper spray on your left pocket, taser on the right. I don't think any burglar would dare go against you, not when your temper is riddled by unbearable headaches."

Sharp, he is. You silently nudge him to pave the way, then. The twinkling lights from bars and the volume of people leaving and entering the place help ease your intimidation on this terrible midnight. 

The man waits for the painkiller to kick in with you beside the pharmacy, after which he shows his ID and says, "Apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I'm Inspector Heinrich Lunge from BKA.”

How strange it is for an inspector to introduce himself at three in the morning. Upon examining his ID, you finally ask, "How could I help you, Inspector?"

He confirms your name, with which you nod, and then asks straight to the point, "Have you been receiving peculiar emails recently?"

Blood in your head flushes out in fear, which is quite uncanny, if you'd be honest. This might be the help you've been waiting for all this time. After your teary-eyed nod, the inspector invited you to a nearby cafe. His treat. The economic crisis had made mere painkillers so expensive for college students in Frankfurt, after all. 

You don't let details slip with Inspector Lunge; he seems immersed in it, minus his strange finger tapping on the table.

"To summarize, the Monster started his message by claiming you as the light amidst the hell of Kinderheim, who came just in time to bring a paradise of doomsday and grime, which pleased the Monster inside him. And after telling you that he's about to return the favor you did for him, the emails started becoming more personal and alarming," his finger-tapping did not cease after saying all this. It isn't until he closes his eyes that his voice changes, "All that, and yet, you didn't report it to the police."

"Because I'm conflicted. If I had reported that and it was a silly prank by one of my friends, how embarrassing would it have been to the officials who handled my case? Not to mention that—wait, hold on, how did you know about the emails, then?"

"An anonymous tip came to me, and it just so happened that your case might be related to the person I'm finding."

"The person you're finding…?"

"Okay, first things first. What I'm about to say are merely hypotheses I came up with by myself. It's not confirmed, at least not yet. In fact, you're the one to prove if everything I'm about to say is true."

You raise an eyebrow, "By yourself? How could you disrupt some random citizen's night over something you thought all by yourself? Have you not consulted your colleagues first?"

"That's not needed, to be honest," Lunge poses, holding his methods with utter confidence. "I don't think it's necessary if the one who tipped the information I have about your case is the presumed suspect themselves."

Your head starts spinning, unsure if it's because of the horror or rage. Really? Is all this torment only a game for this Monster?

"That's why you must help me, young lady," Lunge interposes, "because your cooperation would benefit your safety the most."

You don't trust people so quickly, but it's not like you have any other choice if the best one to help is this eccentric man in front of you. "Go on, Inspector."

"Nice choice," he clicks his tongue, "I'll get straight to the point, then," then sips his coffee. You feel he's going tormentingly slow as if pretending to consider your headspace to accommodate it. 

“Johan, Kinderheim 511.”

Fuck.

No way. There is absolutely no way.

"That's quite a reaction. It rang a bell, didn't it??"

Neither Anna nor Frieda had known that the little boy in your nightmares was named Johan.

Myriads of possibilities ran inside your head sporadically. The painkiller started wearing off despite its supposed 12-hour effectiveness. Trembling pleas for help transcended into actual throbbing headaches. If not for the public fiasco it could cause, you might have lost consciousness by now.

"Johan, he—" you trail, "h-he does not exist."

"What do you mean by that?"

"He does not exist!" you exclaim and stand up. The aggressive reaction turned everyone's head towards you. The only one unperturbed about it is Lunge himself.

"What's with your reaction, then?"

"Johan, the prairies, the fireworks up close, the burnt sanctuary holding corpses of burnt children, all of them!" you grip your hair with both hands, hoping to ease the ringing pain inside your head, "They do not exist! They're all in my head, they are nothing but nightmares! I—ah—huh—" you might be having a panic attack right now. Why? You just adamantly claimed that none of these exist? So why?

If the inspector knew of your meltdown, he showed no sign of it. He seems to care more about the information you have in you rather than the tumultuous effect it could give your brain by saying it out loud.

"The only way to ensure your safety right now is if you spill everything to me. Otherwise, you'll remain in that torment until that Monster reaches you."

You glare at Lunge angrily, "I won't be able to spill something that doesn't exist!"

"Your reaction says otherwise. You know it."

Your breathing becomes more staggered, urgent, and unrelenting. The inspector really might help you, so you try to calm down. If you couldn't help yourself, even his initiatives wouldn't matter, "H-huh… Hah—"

Tears start streaming down your face. You swear you could feel strands of your hair falling off by how hard you're gripping them.

You look around the prairies and the sanctuary, "What a waste of beautiful things."

"You're right. Everything would get burnt to a crisp. The prairies would be no more. We will be none but dust in the wind."

The snippet starts glitching in your head when the red spider lily Johan and you are holding melts down into blood. The tranquil afternoon turns dark. And the fluffy clouds turn into a massive chunk of smoke. The air started to stink. The cold breeze is now tormentingly hot. It reeks of corpses. Children. Flames. Ashes. And there goes Johan, looking at your reaction with expectant eyes, saying: Here are the fireworks you so wished for. I told you everything you say is etched in my memory. You ask, and I deliver.

You remove the red spider lily from your ear, walk towards him, and gently hold his hand with the flower. Your foreheads bump—perhaps it's your statement to the wind that you're not afraid to stick to whatever darkness and terror your friend has inside him.

"Let me visit you as much as I can, then. I'm gonna visit you until you can be with that person again, the one you must never forget." "Would you?"

"Stop—hah—go away! I can't—oh!" you snap out of it when a familiar hand grabs you by the shoulder and brings you to her embrace. 

She hushes you and whispers sweet nothings until it overpowers your sobbing, "It's okay, it's okay, I'm here. Breathe slowly."

Your eyes flutter. Anna's soft touches coax your heart to slow down. 

"Where have you been?" you muffle your cries on her shirt. "I've been having a hard time alone in the dorm."

"But I'm here now, am I not?" There's something in Anna's honey-laced voice that calms you down. Something more effective than drowsy painkillers or the sleeping pills you buy when nighttime events go dire. "You've been so independent all your life, so I thought you could handle it. Am I apparently mistaken?"

Just before you let your body give in to the cradle of Anna's safe arms, she speaks in a voice much deeper than usual, "I'm here because you want me to. It was you who wished for me, so you're not gonna get rid of me anytime soon."

You neither understood what she meant by that nor what was with the sudden change in her voice. Perhaps it was your delusion kicking in, but Anna's tone almost sounded like the boy in your dreams if he got to grow up into a fine young man. How alarming, indeed, but with your mind so desperate for comfort and warmth, you let Anna's remark consume you with relief.

To leave the only inspector who could help you in the hands of a girl you've only known for a month or two? What a pity.

But then, it's not like you can do anything about it. You have no choice but to let Anna handle it. As she always does, as she always would.

When you wake up, you're already at the dorm. Lying on the bedside table was a full-course breakfast Anna cooked for you. She told you what happened after you lost your consciousness. Inspector Lunge begrudgingly called it a night, but her apologies to your roommate were sincere. Anna was able to confirm his identity. Inspector Lunge is indeed from BKA but is on leave of absence.

"Then why did he go to me in the middle of the night? And the strange thing is that he reached out to me with nothing but assumptions he had just made by himself, with no colleagues involved whatsoever."

"My friend's father works at BKA. He told me an uncanny rumor."

"Rumor? It's more uncanny that the beauty and brains Anna Liebert believes rumors."

Anna giggles, scoots closer, and whispers to your ear, "One of the crucial witnesses in the case Inspector Lunge used to handle had killed themselves after he got so engrossed interrogating them. His leave of absence was forced by his superiors," she then faces you upfront; cold but gentle eyes are centimeters away from yours. Her breath smells of fresh mint. "Strange, isn't it?"

What's more strange is how you're flushed from the proximity just now, though.

"That's why I want you to be careful around him," Anna calls your name. "It's not that he couldn't help you—I think he would do so well in that regard—but do come to me once he crosses the line."

Indeed, if Inspector Lunge really crossed the line with this thing, killing yourself is way more possible than anything. "Thank you, Anna. I don't know how to repay all the help you've done for me."

She cups your cheeks, a very soft gesture contrasting her uncanny reply afterward, "I'll do everything for you."

"Why?" and yet you're too entranced to get alarmed by it.

"Why?" Anna lightly ponders. She gives you a cold, sweet smile shortly after: "Because you're special."

"Special? Why?"

"That's a secret," Anna then slides a toasted bread in your mouth. "Now eat. Someone dropped a letter in our mailbox. I think it's for you."

She then closes the door to leave you be. As much as the so-called secret is riling up your fluster, a realization daunts you, too. The longer you stay with this mysterious girl, the more it strengthens the feeling of familiarity towards her.

I would like to apologize for my reckless behavior the previous night. It was imprudent of me to continue when you're clearly asking for a break. This time, please read this letter at your own pace. I know you're having a hard time, and this is the least I can do to help you.

Long, long ago, in one of Kinderheim's foster homes, there was a little boy constantly forced to sleep as he held the words that could shatter human lives. "He was a monster, keep him locked in the underground!" the staff often say. Rumors have it that he had ten horns and seven heads—a monster, indeed, if one might say. One day, this little Monster developed resistance to Kinderheim's sleep-inducing methods, and there, he leashed out the words that could ruin human lives. His power led to the demise of Kinderheim. Some say the monstrous boy only wanted to see fireworks up close, but Kinderheim wouldn't let him. Death to the foster guardians who didn't let him! Pity to the children who had to sacrifice their bodies so fireworks would be lit!

No one knew about the boy—neither his name nor his past. And as an inspector, I do not believe he's as monstrous as rumors say. It's a child's inherent characteristic to copy what adults around them do. Furthermore, hatred in an oppressive home is strengthened when people inside it gather. Hatred brings people together, and this measly little boy might've just ignited a flame out of it. Perhaps this little boy was just the personification of it all. 

How strange it is for a boy to have the means to burn everything to shreds. If it's true, I deduce it's possible only if someone gave him the material condition to do so—like a matchstick to its igniter or the pin inside a grenade.

Such are mere assumptions a mere inspector came up with on his own. Such are the assumptions only one person can prove.

You brushed a hand through your head, deeply baffled and horrified. Not because of how this inspector nailed the events in your nightmares but because of a long-awaited admittance to your realization: the nightmares aren't just nightmares. You were never a particular case of a human being born out of nowhere with a ten-year-old body and uncanny eccentricities. Johan is real; when you were a kid, he was the sinister but only friend you've had.

You've been asleep so long and now have no choice but to wake up and put down the fire your wishes had caused.

• NEXT CHAPTER >>>

🏷️ @cadenza-damour @bianca4evers @lyneyenthusiast @suntizme @hyejohann @onasvigo | GET TAGGED FOR THE NEXT UPDATE

oh this is gonna go down so bad folks

[glowyjellyfish]

OUAT Rewatch Report Part 4: An Apple Red as Blood through We Are Both, plus Down the Rabbit Hole and Trust Me:

1. ugh poor August. He may have brought it on himself, but he definitely got a shitty deal to begin with—asking a seven year old to protect a baby in a strange world? And somehow magic functions enough to change him back to wood if he fails, but not enough for him to be a living puppet man? Raw deal. Nobody deserves to turn into bad CG and then deaged to conform to an easy happy ending.

2. loooove Mary Margaret’s Mom lecture when she calls Emma out for abducting Henry and abandoning everyone else.

3. Regina really cares about Henry more than the curse at this point. She needed the curse to maintain the life she built, but I do feel like at least half the season she was fighting much more for Henry than for the curse. I suspect that the pilot was set up intending her to be more irredeemable and incapable of love, but Lana Parilla’s performance changed that pretty quick.

4. again I’m confused by the fairies’ involvement in storming the castle. Really, we’re given no reasons why the fairies do anything. So, my theory is that Blue was aware that Rumple made the curse Regina was planning to cast, but not that he was also giving help to Snow and Charming. And she believed that in helping oppose the Evil Queen, they were fighting the Dark One. And I have now formulated a whole theory. It’s not really about good or evil to the fairies, that’s mostly PR. It’s about control over the use of magic. They’ve got a whole industry going, they don’t want freelancers popping up taking their business. They want to control who gets magic solutions and why, they want to control what price is paid, and they behave the way they do for good PR so that people will prefer and trust them. There doesn’t have to be any deeper agenda than that. Blue offers personal support to people whose trust she can gain and fates she can shape. And she offers support to people when her help will mean thwarting or destroying alternate magic users (ie, trying to get Bae to go with Rumple to the land without magic). She definitely seems very invested in eliminating the Dark One.

5. YAY NEAL I’m so excited to see him. I love how his apartment mirrors his father’s homes with his collection of Things. Also love how he has clearly been working hard to do better in the last 10 years. so who sent him the postcard by pigeon? I can’t remember if we’re ever informed about that, but it pretty much has to be August, right? Rumple wouldn’t be so bold and cryptic, and he doesn’t know where Bae is yet, and nobody else would know to alert Neal. Sending an extremely cryptic message is right up August’s alley, at least. I’ll see if the show explains it.

6. I had a whole timeline figured out based on OUATW beginning right after the curse is broken, and I’m trying to figure out whether that is actually correct. Certainly, it either starts during Broken or after the first half of s2 is done—somebody has to be driving Emma’s car around—and the storm at the beginning could be the Wraith attack. On the other hand, Will, Ashley, and Leroy do not act the way anybody acts right after the curse is broken. Will is understandable, he is barely capable of giving a shit about anything without really putting effort into it right now, but Ashley and Leroy? Just being at Granny’s like nothing is wrong? On the other other hand, if OUATW starts later that means Will managed to 100% lay low for the first couple weeks or so after the curse was broken. Not impossible at all, and obviously when s2 was written Will didn’t exist yet so it’s not that big a deal, but… if memory serves, later on when he’s on regular OUAT nobody knows who he is who didn’t know him before the curse? Could he really have never gotten arrested or otherwise made a nuisance of himself and stayed out of trouble for two weeks or however long s2a is, spending his time talking to Jefferson and throwing darts at a picture of Ana? Maybe. I’ll keep watching for timeline clues. I do suspect I am putting more thought into this than the writers did. I am beginning to doubt that this was the best viewing pattern either way. Might be better in the future to complete s2 or the first half of s2 and then watch all of Wonderland. However, even though it wasn’t designed this way, the parallels in watching the episodes interspersed like this are interesting: at the same time Storybrooke is freaking out about their lack of portals, Will just waltzed off into one with the Rabbit. Alice and Will visited Jefferson’s abandoned house, and then Charming tracks him down in Storybrooke. Cora is revealed to be in Fairy Tale Land, and Ana talks about taking over Wonderland. Very interesting.

7. I really enjoy that Dr. whale is just constantly hanging around slightly in the background of the episodes in this session. His big moment of leading an angry mob to confront Regina because that’s how his world deals with this sort of thing was great of course, but I just like how he’s right there when the curse is broken, and shown being distraught, and he’s constantly visible at the front of the groups of people demanding solutions from Charming. I mean, he knows damn well why he was cursed, and even worse than finding out he was cursed and being bombarded with the memories of a. his tragic life and b. that his real self is practically a joke in this world—even worse would be watching everyone else recognize one another and realizing he’s another world removed from the community here. Not surprising that he’s more upset than most, and that he wouldn’t want to talk about it, and that he’d leap to extreme solutions to try to get home (in a few episodes that is).

8. Regina’s redemption begins in earnest here, and I think they did a wonderful job of showing her abusive past and how she continued the cycle without intending to. What bugs me about her redemption arc is that I don’t recall her ever feeling bad or making up for things she did to anyone but Henry. Maybe some of the other main characters. It’s not that they did a bad job with her feelings or characterization, but redemption doesn’t ring true to me if she’s only doing it to please the one person she cares about, and then gets rewarded before she has to put in the hard work. That’s just how I remember it, though. I’ll keep my eyes open. Also, the term wasn’t as heavily used as it is now, but I’m glad the show made it clear that Regina gaslit Henry. I do believe she was doing her best and does love him and was never nearly as abusive as her mother… but she was still emotionally abusive to him, even if she was otherwise a perfect mother.

9. I kind of love Charming struggling to be in charge and maintain order, and really wish we had gotten a lot more episodes of how the town stays functional and solves its problems while the adventure team is out adventuring. Maybe I’m forgetting something.

10. why does Jefferson know that the Enchanted Forest still exists? I guess there’s just… a class of magic people that are portal jumpers, and they have knowledge of other worlds and their magic expresses itself in a specialized way of traveling between worlds that’s different for each one? And for Jefferson, it wasn’t just any hat he made, but this one specific hat that needs ambient magic to function and is able to work separate from him? I don’t think the show ever gives any more explanation than what Jefferson has said so far, so this theory’s as good as any. Maybe he can make a new one only if his old one is destroyed, so he lost his mind trying and couldn’t succeed even in Wonderland because Regina still had his original hat?

Today’s gif selection will be describing Regina, because although I had less trouble finding gifs for each episode I had a good collection for her and she deserves acknowledgement. I’ll probably amass more over time, god knows I’ve already found a few more for Rumple.

[chaoticevilorange]

200 followers event!

Thanks for the likes and reblogs! I'm trying to write the fluffiest fluff in fluffyland, because 🤧💖 I love fluff 💖✨✨✨✨

Haikyuu x reader fluff (timeskip boys)

Sadly is a rare occurrence for you both have a day off the same day, he wants to spend the entire day with you, he takes this opportunity to monopolize you

Day off

He already planned a home date, he has this strict rule against unscheduled visitors, is HIS day off with YOU, anyone who dares to disrupt this sacred day with a surprise visit will be left outside his home, because! it's rude to visit someone without the home owners permission and wants to have you all for himself, so obviously he goes to shopping snacks and your favourite drinks for this day like 3 days before. Here you are curled against him in the couch drinking your favourite soda/juice/tea watching a movie. He starts to place soft kisses on our temple a few times before paying attention to the movie again.

Kyotani, Daichi, Tsukishima, Ushijima, Kenma, Kita, Sakusa

You didn't even know how he got you on the car at 4am, like... You're pretty sure he kind of kidnapped you... scratch that, you're a fully grown adult, he abducted you from your warm bed at 4am, slightly awake you're not even sure what time is it when you look at him, he's drinking coffee a smile plastered in his face, he gives you a quick glance before his eyes focus on the road ahead with a grin that matches the Cheshire cat "Hello beautiful~ ready to an exciting day at the beach?" Yes, this is what is about, he wants to spend his time with you under the sun, having a day full of wonderful memories to remember when he feels stressed out during his work, humming lightly you resume your position to sleep a bit more hopping he wakes you up when you both arrive.

Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Sugawara, Ennoshita, Lev, Semi, Bokuto, Atsumu

He spend all the day with you chilling in your shared home, he actually made reservations for one of your favourite restaurants, a fancy dinner filled with his favourite person in the whole world, he almost didn't make it you looked so beautiful on that dress, he even thought about skipping the dinner but no, he wanted to spoil you first, after some deep breaths he could finally exit your shared home with you for a lovely dinner, he can't get tired of your beautiful smile and the way your eyes shine reflecting the lights of the candle lights, he thinks he should marry you soon, but he won't tell you that yet. Surprise, you had to call sick the next day, he did too, he has to take care of his lovely partner, he can see your blushing face next to him 👀

Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Kageyama, Hinata, Kuroo, Yaku, Akaashi, Suna, Osamu, Koganegawa

He planned a date day! What is a date day? Well, this boy is taking you everywhere, the amusement park, the aquarium, the zoo, to a picnic, to get or cream and finally he wanted to watch your favourite movie while chilling in the couch, but you won't get home before grabbing some take out, is almost like he wanted to make up for not seeing you the whole week, at the end of the day you're so tired he offers to give you a piggy back ride, felt like the old days when you were dating ages ago. Finally in the safety of your shared home he runs you both a bath, then watching the movie you both drift asleep in each others arms.

Asahi, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Yamaguchi, Satori, Goshiki, Yamamoto, Aran, Aone, Futakuchi

[helioleti]

If Will has powers, theory:

I'm not the biggest theory person but if Will does have powers then his powers are probably gonna have to do with the Upside Down exclusively. Maybe he can manipulate the UD to look, or be constructed like he needs it.

Think about it: After El opened the portal, Will was the first (known to us) person to get abducted into it, and we know for a fact that the UD Hawkins is stuck in the day Will went missing. Ever since then, Will hasn't gone back into the UD (except for s2, but we'll get to that later). These three facts are too specific to be coincidental.

Next questions we ask ourselves are: How was Will able to call Joyce through the telephone? How was he able to put on a very specific song on the recorder from another dimension? How did the Byers house apparently change in real time when Joyce put up the lights and letters on the wall, so that Will could properly communicate with her?

And most importantly: How in the world did Will survive in there for a whole week? We've seen other characters (Barb, to be specific, but we know of others who went missing) get abducted by the Demogorgon, but none of them were found alive. They were immediately trapped or eaten by the Demogorgon. How could a twelve year old boy of all people, be the only person who survived long enough to be rescued?

Here's where a line mentioned very early in the series comes back into play: "He's good at hiding," Jonathan says to Hopper (s1, ep2). This is too good of a quote & characterization to never be touched upon again. But it really hasn't been of any significance within the series yet, except maybe when El said (also in episode 2 in s1) that Will was hiding in the Upside Down.

I doubt that it was just Will's throwaway mentioned skill to be "good at hiding" what saved his life for a week. Not to mention Will has been insanely close to the Demogorgon at least three times when he was trapped in the UD (first time when he was taken [ep1], second time when he put on "Should I Stay or Should I Go" on the recorder and the Demogorgon almost morphed through the wall right after [ep2], and the third time when Will told Joyce through the lights that he was "RIGHT HERE" and to "RUN" bc the Demogorgon was coming [s1, ep3]). This is too insane to just be dumb luck.

It's only that one time nearing the end of s1 (forgot the episode number, sorry) when Will cannot escape the Demogorgon anymore and he gets trapped. This kind of makes sense because we see him weakened, freezing in the UD Castle Byers and telling El to "Hurry" when she tells him his mom is on the way. It's been a week and he hasn't had water or food, and it's just natural that there'd be a limit to his ability to "hide", powers or not.

My guess is that, until then, Will had always (accidentally, maybe) shaped his surroundings so that they make a good hiding spot for him, or to fight the Demogorgon off somehow. (This is still a very vague theory, but maybe at the time, Will's power relied mostly on his emotions and fear, and he wasn't controlling it in any way whatsoever. Meaning the way that he used any powers was also sort of "vague")

Next up: Will's behaviour in the UD in season 2

Here's how the theory that Will might be able to manipulate the UD gets a little wonky. Because this time around, we do see him in there, and we see how he acts in there (unlike in s1, when it was all hidden). There are no powers shown.

Now, I'm not a fan of amnesia or memory loss tropes in stories to hide information that'll be revealed later, because it often comes off as lazy writing (looking at you, season 4) but I do think it would be somehow plausible for Will to be oblivious to any powers he has. He was a 12 year old boy, scared to death, and maybe according to him he really did just go from hiding spot to hiding spot in the week that he was trapped. I doubt that a weeklong exposure to a traumatic life-or-death situation leaves a little kid with 100% memory of it, or how he managed to survive. Plus, I don't think that Will would fail to mention any potential powers he has for three seasons straight.

But how come he was able to hide and survive the UD in s1 (possibly with the help of powers) but didn't truly in s2?

We can be almost certain that the Mind Flayer did not yet play any role yet in season 1. Will is just now seeing this spider-shadow-figure-thing for the first time. It's not shown to be in UD Hawkins in s1 when Joyce & Hopper go in to save Will.

But now it is there, and it's very likely that it overpowers any of Will's potential powers by far. Either Will was way too scared ("Frozen," as he calls it) to use his powers, or the Mind Flayer took control of the UD, or both.

Another thing that is never really explained is: Why does Will shift from our dimension into the UD after being rescued?

We don't see any of the other characters who have been to the UD shift between the two dimensions after they get back. We could say maybe it was the extended amount of time in which Will was inside, or the way he entered it. And maybe that's true, but that wouldn't disprove, but rather enhance the fact that Will has a special connection with the Upside Down. Not just with the Mind Flayer, because he starts shifting between both dimensions already before he gets possessed. This is proven even further when we consider that UD Hawkins is stuck in the day he got abducted.

Also: Why does Will still feel the connection to the Mind Flayer (& Vecna, perhaps)? He got exorcised out of him. But somehow, a connection is still there.

Why? And why him, of all people?

I guess that's for Season 5 to reveal. I have a few ideas, but I don't want this post to get longer than it already is.

But to recap the theory:

If Will has powers, and he most likely does (if we don't want to believe his survival in the Upside Down in s1 was pure luck and "hiding skill"), these powers are probably very different from El's in that they ONLY might work/affect the Upside down. Will has a special connection with both the UD and the Mind Flayer, and I really hope it doesn't all come down to Will having to sacrifice himself so that the Upside Down can be permanently destroyed. If it does, I'll be in the Duffer brothers walls

[theghostofblackbunnymask]

Hi, can you please write a general yandere alphabet for Karl Jacobs from dream smp?

Author's Note- This has been just sitting here.

Warnings- Murder, Sadism, Panic Attacks, Mental Breakdowns, Gore, Breaching Personal Space

Yandere Karl Jacobs Alphabet

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Karl in game (And in real life) is very cuddly, so of course his way of showing love and affection would be physical touch, hugging, cuddling, kissing, pretty much any form of touch

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He can be pretty messy, but Karl doesn't really do killing, he just prevents that person from being born

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Karl will treat you with love and care, cuddling you, checking up on you, making you food, making sure your taking care of yourself, the whole 9 yards

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Definitely going back in time and changing stuff from the past, like making sure you didn't meet one person or preventing someone's life

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Karl really wants to trust you, but Karl is smart enough to know that you'll have to earn it, since if he trusted you immediately, you can run off since he trusted you too soon

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Karl would be disappointed yet ashamed, ashamed of his himself for making you have to fight back as a defense, and with his memory it definitely doesn't help at all

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This isn't a game to him, he would panic and look everywhere, he'll even go back in time to see when you eescaped and where you went.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Dark Karl. Karl has a side he rarely shows, and it mainly shows if he finds out you're taking advantage of him, taking advantage of his memory issues, taking advantage of his kindness. Karl could NEVER hit you, but, he will lock you in a blood room with blood covering the walls, organs pined to said walls with rusty nails, and dead bodies everywhere. You'll be left in their for days if not weeks, he won't feed you nor will he give you water, he told you if you got hungry, just eat the bodies or if you got thirsty, drink their blood.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Living together in peace, time traveling together, and maybe even adopting a kid

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Karl doesn't really get jealous, since he will most likely forget the encounter

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He's very kind, caring and loving, yet also very touch starved and clingy. He loves hugging, cuddling and kissing you. He would even hold hands with you if you don't like hugs

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He would invite you to picnics, time traveling trips, and sleepovers. He would want to become your friend first so you know who he is and you trust him

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Dark Karl is a completely different thing, if you've seen my college AU Karl, College AU Dark Karl isn't like DSMP Dark Karl, DSMP Dark Karl is a demon Karl got from time traveling, while College AU Dark Karl is a different personality, that was originally a coping mechanism, but it just got out of hand

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Karl doesn't like hurting you, cause when your hurt, Karl's hurt. He would punish you by locking you in a room for a few days, not getting much food, only some salty crackers and water, and some juice if you were doing well

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He barely takes any, cause he wants you to feel comfortable and safe with him, and he doesn't want to break you

The only right he would take away from you is leaving him and personal space

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Karl is extremely patient. He could wait millions of years for you to love him, and he won't be mad about it

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No. Karl would have mental breakdowns to the point he'd be so mentally and physically tired that he wouldn't be able to breath, leading to Dark Karl taking over, and he's going to hunt you down if you escaped

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

If you're not happy or extremely depressed he will, DSMP Karl loves you and wants you to be happy and healthy, but if you're not, he'll let you go and just watch you from a far, seeing you smile and laugh is much better than you cuddling him even though you're depressed.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Quackity leaving.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He'd try and get you out so he'd can spend time with you. He'd good around to see you smile and tell you stories from his adventures

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Him actually taking you places.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His kindness, this'll be very risky, but you can do it if you're smart about it

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not on purpose.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Extreme lengths, he'd try everything, Yandere DSMP Karl is the actual definition of a simp.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

9 months, man gets too excited

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

HE COULD NEVER.

[elliaze]

When I lost you forever

A/N: This is my first one shot here, and since my greatest love is Marvel, I had to write something in this fandom. Forgive me for my English, it's my second language. Originally the main character's name was Grace, but I changed it to Y/N. So you can choose how to read.

Pairings: Tony Stark x sister!Stark, but Tony’s not here

Warnings: angst, few swears

Summary: Four times when Y/N almost lost Tony forever and one when it actually happened.

Word Count: 1600

MASTERLIST

First it was Afghanistan.

Then New York.

Sokovia.

His flight into space.

And finally, the cursed Infinity Stones that took his life.

I. Where she drank herself into unconsciousness

Y/N would never have even thought that she could lose her brother. His absence from her life was as improbable as the fact that their parents could suddenly come to life. But fate was unpredictable, otherwise she wouldn't be in their home laboratory with another bottle of alcohol and being on the verge of unconsciousness, wondering how much she should drink to completely forget what had happened.

It was all like a worst nightmare from which she could not wake up. Even her nightmares seemed like nothing compared to what she was experiencing at that moment.

The door to the lab opened with a quiet sound, and Pepper walked in.

“Hey,” the blonde said uncertainly. “I was just passing by and thought I'd stop to check on you.”

Y/N did not answer. She acted as if she hadn't noticed at all that she was no longer alone. When she lifted her misty and absent-minded gaze upwards, she was not sure if her friend was real or she was just an illusion of her sick mind.

“I brought something to eat,” Pepper said again. “Italian cuisine, one of your favorites. Remember, you have to eat something, Tony wouldn't want…”

“Tony is not here” Y/N answered unexpectedly. Her voice was cool and hoarse, although it was hard to tell whether this was the result of hours of silence or drink. “I appreciate your concern, but I could care less about eating or functioning at all if I don't get my brother back.”

“He will come back. I'm sure of it.”

“Today it's been two weeks since his abduction, and there's still no word on his whereabouts. The longer they search for him, the less chance there is that he is still alive.”

“Don't think like that” Pepper walked over to her friend and put hand on her shoulder. “He's alive, Y/N. After all, you always say that nothing is impossible for him.”

And indeed there was not.

Or at least, she believed it when a few weeks later she could see him again and hold him in her arms.

II. Where time stopped

Y/N felt her whole world stop the moment Tony disappeared into the portal. She didn't know what was going on, and the sounds of battle suddenly fell silent, as if she hadn't been in a war with aliens at all a few minutes before. All she could do was stare up at the sky, hoping that in a moment, in a second, her brother would fly back and return to Earth.

She knew all too well the feeling of losing him. Memories of the emptiness from a few years ago are still fresh, as if he had been kidnapped just a few days ago. She couldn't imagine experiencing something like that again. She couldn't accept the fact that Tony had actually decided to go on a suicide mission himself. She wasn't going to accept that with his likely death, she would be left completely alone in this world.

No, as long as she believed in her brother, that was how she knew he had a chance.

“Close the portal, Romanoff,” Rogers ordered, and Y/N screamed loudly as she watched the hole in the sky closing.

“No!” She screamed in despair and immediately threw her fists at the Captain. “He still has a chance to come back! Romanoff, if you do it, I swear to all the gods I know, I will kill you as soon as you come down from that cursed fucking tower!”

She tightened her fingers on his costume, wanted to shake him, convince him that he couldn't condemn her brother to death, but instead she felt his strong arms around her. Rogers tried to reassure her, but nothing was getting through to her distraught mind. Y/N cry into the Captain shoulder as she watched the energy beam and portal completely disappear from the sky. The thought that no one had tried to help her brother, and that she herself had been prevented from doing so, tore her heart.

She couldn't even imagine a world without Tony, let alone actually live with such an awareness.

That day, she didn't have to find out at all.

Tony had not let his sister down, only reassuring her that nothing was impossible for him and that he was capable of surviving even the most suicidal mission.

Even if by doing so he was driving Y/N to the brink of total breakdown.

III. Where she had no idea about his sacrifice

That day during the fight in Sokovia, where she herself had nearly lost her life, she had little idea that Tony had once again put himself at risk.

In a way, she was grateful to Ultron for hurting her.

At least she didn't have to watch her own brother take on a dangerous task again and drive her to despair.

IV. Where she searched for him

No battle made her as horrified as the one in Wakanda. She could not understand how a few gems had made half of humanity disappear. She felt as if she was stuck in some dream from which she could not awaken. As much as she suffered from the loss of friends and allies, there was only one person she worried about.

Tony.

She couldn't get over the fact that she wasn't with him now. As long as he was still alive. Y/N shook her head. She was too fierce, maybe even desperate, to believe that her brother could have died in the far reaches of space.

Rocket cursed loudly as the system once again alerted to an error.

“What's going on?” Y/N looked at her new ally, but quickly shifted her gaze to the computer screens. “How is it possible that there are still no matches?”

“Maybe it's because we're based on Earth technology, but we're trying to connect to space technology?” Rocket growled.

If the situation were completely different, Y/N would have started arguing with the raccoon long ago. But at the moment they were both all too aware that they needed each other far more than they might have suspected.

“Let's change the parameters and reprogram the satellite.”

“We've done this before”

“Apparently it’s not enough!”

“I'm a genius, Stark, but even I'm starting to have a problem with this.”

“That's not an option, Rocket!” She called out loudly, clasping her hands tightly. “We have to find him. Find them all, including your team.”

“The probability of them meeting is really low.”

“You said that they wanted to get Thanos, and he told me exactly that he fought my brother on Titan. They must have met there.”

Rocket sighed heavily, but didn't answer right away. Y/N stared at the screens, but the longer she did it, she only felt even more rage and uncertainty. She pretended that she was brave and strong and hadn't completely broken down, but knew that she was extremely close to that.

Especially she had never before felt as powerless as she did at that moment.

“We can try if the signal we send will be strong enough to reach Titan and track your technology,” Rocket suggested, and Y/N immediately agreed.

It wasn't their efforts or her belief in miracles that brought Tony back home.

Y/N had never felt as grateful to anyone in her entire life as she did to Danvers when she brought her brother back to his loved ones.

It wasn't the first time she had thought she was losing him forever.

However, of them all, this was the most terrifying.

V. Where she lost him forever

She felt as if she had jumped into deep water and could not get out of it. She fell and fell, slowly losing her ability to function at all. The dark abyss was taking her last moments of life, filling her heart and mind with total emptiness. She opened her mouth, but oxygen was not reaching it at all.

She was losing consciousness. Everything lost its meaning.

But she was still alive, even though she did not understand it. She was sinking deeper and deeper into the pain and she knew there was only one person who could pull her out.

Tony.

But he was gone, and with his death, all possibilities for her to be fully happy disappeared.

Never, not even in her most horrible nightmares would she be able to come to terms with his death. Facing it in the real world was worse than a nightmare. In dreams she could wake up every time and find out that everything had been her imagination.

Now she had not even that.

And yet, she still had to function. To get up every day and face the world without her brother beside her.

She had someone to live for, that was for sure. She would give anything just to make her family and friends happy.

But she couldn't accept that this one time she couldn't sacrifice her life instead of her brother.

“The impossible does exist though, eh Tony?” She whispered softly and placed her hand on the cold tombstone.

She smiled sadly and walked away, not looking back.

Y/N was going to come back here tomorrow anyway.

[kurimiaki]

T, R, N and P with Diluc please?

the uncrowned king of mondstadt, diluc ragnvindr.

yandere alphabet via dear-yandere! revisions i made are flaky so. my bad wwwww

cw: dark content, physical abuse, kidnapping, confinement, claustrophobia, extremely unhealthy relationship.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Just because Diluc may be attending to business elsewhere, does not mean you are free from his heady grasp. Distant yet coddling; his attentiveness is a curse just as much as it can be a blessing. You’re never without security, that much is true. Dawn Winery is his eyes and ears, every single servant wrapped around his finger, wrapping around and constricting you. Self isolation could never be a possibility, not when Adelinde ushers you out of bed without a minute left to spare, always in such a hurry, as if wallowing in utter boredom for days on end is anything of importance. From the very beginning, Diluc had made it a point to ensure your physical health was a top priority to those surrounding you; strict itineraries have maids silently mourning over their packed workload. A plethora of duties— take you on brief walks outside the winery, never longer than 15 minutes, feed and serve meals delicately planned and catered to your health, eyes and ears constantly watching, watching, watching. They keep you like a dog on a leash, no matter how pampered. They do so dutifully. They must. Who could possibly decline such a hefty pay at the expense of silence?

It would be a blatant lie to say your physical health had declined any whilst under his... care, however, the same cannot be said for your mental well being. He can’t, despite how much he hates his inability to do so, prevent your tears. And by the archons, do you cry. Diluc is unable to approach you some days, those days when the illusion of normalcy and domestic living he works so hard to put up simply melts away, when you can do little more than curl in on yourself and wretch into your silk sheets with a litany of tears flush in your eyes. He wills himself to allow you the mercy of a few hours alone, albeit with check ups and that blatant discomfort of his when you wail at the slightest touch to your shoulder. Of course, it’s a different case entirely when such cries are symptom of punishment— whereas Diluc will weakly attempt to comfort you with softened eyes when you work yourself up, flaky and visibly uncomfortable, his resolution is unflinching and unwavering should you choose to act out of turn. Wail, sob, beg and beg for mercy, for forgiveness, his mask of nonchalance will stay firm.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No. Diluc is understanding that the situation he has thrust you into may not be ideal, he anticipates a lack of reciprocation and overall resistance, but he feels absolutely no guilt. In his eyes, this is for the best, the world is much too cruel— who better than him to make that judgement for you? Even if you do prove yourself to be capable of taking care of yourself, (with Diluc himself to measure up to) this Darknight Hero will find every minute, minuscule little thing to prove you otherwise. Just about every one of your shortcomings Diluc will try and use to his advantage, to put himself in a better light. Who else is as capable as he is, who else can prove themselves worthy of your companionship, your devotion, in the ways that he has? The longer you stay in his grasp, not that the possibility of leaving will come otherwise, the more difficult it becomes to prove him wrong. He feeds you with the utmost care, keeps you healthy, entertains you should you need conversation or otherwise, and provides, provides, provides. There may be a lack of freedom on your end, but really, do you have much room to complain? Without him, you may very well be dead. He ensures that point is driven straight to your heart, however many times is necessary until you grow compliant.

His will and rationality is fully reasonable, in his mind, hence why his wishes to keep you by his side shall forever remain solid. Perhaps it is the idea of you keeping close to him that entraptures Diluc so entirely, for he is a distant admirer. He would be contented growing old and without your touch, merely sharing your company for as long as life allows. All the same, he wishes to swallow you whole, skin, blood, guts and tears, if only to keep you with him. It is selfish, but he tells himself that is something of which he is deserving. He must.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Diluc is nothing if not dedicated to his goals, a driven man in everything he sets his mind to. In order to maintain the position he thrives in, he is forever alert, forever adapting, prepared for any strenuous situation thrown his way. Should you push past a line you are never meant to cross, jab at him a tad too harshly, well... it’s not as if he gives no thought as to how to keep you in line. Rarely are you knowing enough of his inner workings to be able to push him past the point of no return, a point where even you, his dearest, are not spared from his wrath. Emphasis on rare, for he is wholly tolerant and gentle with you, to an extent. Any person has a breaking point, and Diluc, despite his detached disposition and stoic attitude, can only withstand so much. He bottles up so much to remain composed, after all. When he snaps, he is unable to hold himself back any longer.

He is not one to take pleasure from the suffering of others. Lest they truly deserve it, is what he’ll tell himself, to at the very least maintain the illusion of normalcy. Sway not from the path of righteousness, forget not the splendor of dawn. His mind is able to concoct the most horrific scenarios he could possibly put you through, for he does the same with his enemies. In a way, when you act out of turn, an instinctual part of him, cultivated after years spent at the whims of the dangerous and unknown, sees you as just that— an enemy. He doesn’t often choose the more unsavory methods to keeping you in line, ie: beating or threatening you with his vision, further keeping true to said threats should you continue. Diluc is wholly capable of restraining the urge to simply slap the snark off of your face (he had done so regardless, once or twice), and much prefers isolating you on his own terms, away from everyone and everything, even himself. It’s a small room, not even on par with that of your shared bedroom, much more similar to a closet or crawlspace.

A room, but a cage all the same. Splintered wood floors, dank cobblestone surrounds you and few cracks in the stone leaves room for bugs of all nature to crawl through, allows the elements to rain hell upon you should you end up locked up during the harsher months. A lone maid, not even Adelinde, the head, attends to you, sparing meek glances should you call out when she gently places a meal of one roll, a piece of meat, and a few shoddily cut slabs of potato. No begging and weeping and screaming you may do will soften Diluc into coming back for you- again, his resolve is akin to that of steel, his will forever unyielding. He decides when you are thoroughly broken in, and when it is time to hold you in kind, he shines through like that of The Darknight Hero the people proclaim him to be. In the end, what is necessary is that he shows you how much better off you are when with him. He’s much too possessive and to a point, coddling, to ever consider discarding you into the wild and at the whims of hilichurl camps and abyss mages alike.

His hold is firm and grounding. Had he always been able to hold you with such ease? Had he ever truly held you in kind, as he does now? He’s warm. A familiar, comforting scent of smoke and acidic wine fills your senses and him, oh, him. He had left you, left you alone, all alone, in that room, not even a room, all alone, and yet you can do little more than gag and writhe and latch onto him with pleas of his name whispered hoarsely— ‘Diluc, Diluc, Diluc’. A cry of your savior.

He can’t look at you, won’t look at you. Won’t give you the mercy, but he couldn’t be angry. Not anymore. He holds you tighter and so flush to himself, with a ferocity narly shown to anyone but you, not in kind, not with this passion. You smell of dust, a husk of yourself. Faintly of his sheets, faintly of iron, of vomit, of filth.

Fresh memories of your betrayal burn hot in his mind. He’s contradicting himself. He cannot relent. It comes out as a whisper, barely even heard to himself, and he curses his very soul the moment it passes his lips.

“Strive to do better. Lest you want your time there to increase tenfold.”

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He can bear with defiance and unwillingness on your part, to an extent. He can anticipate as much, for he is not delusional enough to fool himself into thinking your relationship is even somewhat typical to that of a normal couple, no matter how much he wishes that to be the case. No, for the initial few weeks of your captivity (he’s always gotten so mad when you refer to him as such, a captor) Diluc allows you to lash and sob and attempt to reason with him, attempt to soften him, attempt to hurt him. He’ll allow you to do so, but he himself remains impenetrable, unblinking, almost uncaring. He is prepared for about anything and everything, always expecting the worse possibilities as to save himself from further harm. For you, as well, he is constantly anticipating and observing. In hidden, minute little ways. It may even come as a shame to him if the fact that he enforces the maids to note down your every little move ever reaches your ears.

All in all, Diluc’s complete preparation for anything and everything you may throw his way makes him extremely patient, for better or for worse. Difficult to crack, impenetrable, almost— on one hand, the distance he keeps from you to accommodate for your lack of reciprocation may come as a blessing, but it makes it all too difficult to try and pester him into letting you go, to try and understand his goals and motivations in keeping you locked right away. Your complacency is inevitable, sooner or later, Diluc will begin approaching and weaseling his way into your routine in the smallest of ways, gradually and unconsciously causing you to grow fonder of his presence. It’s a slow process, one he had planned from the very moment his wishes of a domestic life with you grew much too much to handle. He loves you completely, yearns for your love, and for it, he will wait as long as necessary.

Blazing red eyes leer down upon you, your shame increasing tenfold for each second that passes subjected to that gaze of his. A fit of expaseration, you will admit, had sent the cutlery dear Hillie had so delicately prepared flying off of the white tablecloth and onto the hardwood floors, further staining the expensive rugs with wines and crumbs and oils from his favorite meal, a concoction of pasta and steak and cheese. He had prepared yours alongside with it, striking tonight as a tad more special than the rest. You didn’t blame yourself for what you did, not when he had proposed something as outlandish as marriage.

He keeps silent, leaning back in his seat, his throne, as if he were a king observing a mere peasant begging for mercy— quite frankly, you should be. But perhaps tonight he will be more lenient, you ponder, averting your gaze to the flickering embers sparking from the fireplace beside you.

He sighs, suddenly, worn and thoroughly put out by your antics, further embarrassing you by his facade of nonchalance. No, you could tell from the way his leather gloves creaked from gripping himself too hard, he was barely concealing his own anger.

“You hardly let me finish my scentence. Come, we’ll continue this conversation upstairs.”

[albino-whumpee]

Cw//noncon, pet whump, nonhuman whumpee, child abuse, experiments, self loathing, death, forced to watch, betrayal

Im having a Kuro sad hours so I’m just gonna tell you that this man has gone through hell.

He wasn’t only severely abused by his father before he killed him, he also didn’t stop walking aimlessly for weeks hoping a human would shoot him dead only to get abducted into a facility that made experiments with exceptional druls where he met his very first friends.

He also escaped that place even tho he didn’t want to because his lover had been his whole life inside that facility and wanted to see the world that had rejected their whole existence. He escaped because he trusted he would be by his side, so even a ruined awful world like that was worth living because it had his lover and his friends in it, but Kuro lost his reasoning when he had to leave his lover behind to escape.

So when he goes back for him, he realizes he has gone through the last stage of the experiments and having him back means killing him. So when he refuses to do so, and continues to fight him, who’s several times stronger than him, he has to make a deal with the owner of the facility in order to help him return back to normal.

Even if the price is his own freedom and his lover’s memories about him.

Only for years after systematically killing his own species because of orders of his “owner”, he sees his lover fall in love with someone else, over and over. Until he realizes the person he loved is long dead now and searches for someone else to fill that void. Only to find the person that loves him back so much, that would give her life for him, rapes him in order to get a child out of him, even after a million talks about how he couldn’t let that happen.

So when she delivers, he takes the new born, realizes the miracle he has in his hands before he burns half of his face to make him unrecognizable and gives him away before announcing his child died at birth.

Not because he couldn’t be a father, not because of revenge, but because he knew both, the thing crawling inside him would search to kill him in order to enter his son’s body, and the owner of his life, the person who gave him back his lover, would do anything to kill that child.

So when his lover realizes what he did for him, the atrocities he committed in the name of “protection” he hears him swear to him he will kill him and make the world go to hell with him. He actually agrees and lets him try, but when he’s so close to, his owner rescues him. Seizing full control over his territory and starting a full blown war with humanity by using him as a weapon.

A weapon his lover wants dead and his beloved protégée wishes to save when he has become a weapon himself because he will be useful against the real enemy in this war.

This man’s only wish was to have the people next to him be happy.

His sin was that it didn’t matter to him if the world caught on fire if it made them happy.

[fragilevixenfic]

My AO3 Fanfiction Links (Current)

“I’ve never really thought about making a “Master List” of my own work but I figured, now is the time to do so. If any of the links are incorrect just let me know. I fix. 

Adding in a “keep reading” tab because the list is starting to get long and intense.

Each fic is categorized and easily referenced. I’ll update as I go.

X Files

Series

Into The Shadows

XII (COMPLETE): A serial killer targets victims and leaves behind symbols of his affection -- but who is his intended target and what will it take to discover the truth? (This has a lot of trigger warnings)

Dance In The Dark (ONGOING Chapters 12/? Posted **UPDATED):  With the continuing murder trial of Miles, Mulder, Scully, and Max are confronted by the VCU with a case that seems to be mimicking the pattern by their, now infamous, psychopath on trial.

Echoes and Whispers

Parallel (COMPLETE):  The aftermath of the three little words that Mulder says to Scully in his hospital bed after being rescued from the Queen Anne as it re-appeared in the Bermuda Triangle...and the strange connection that Scully starts to feel to a memory that Scully couldn't possibly have.

Only The Night (ONGOING):  Mulder and Scully begin their undercover assignment as an engaged couple with the assistance of Skinner at the University of Maryland to catch a serial rapist, putting their newly formed physical bond to the test in this sequel to “Parallel”.

Casefics

Falling Away (COMPLETE):  Kersh’s assignment partially splits the team as Scully goes undercover under the watchful eye of Mulder as they both assist on an operation with SWAT and FBI personnel. (A gift for Greta)

Veritas se revēlet (COMPLETE):  (The title is roughly translated to let the truth be revealed in Latin) An impromptu wild goose chase leads Mulder and Scully to the drifts of a winter-locked Tonopah, Nevada—where a little more than the embodiment of Mulder’s imagination takes shape between the walls of the Mizpah Hotel in the dead of winter. (A gift for @monikafilefan)

She Walks at Night (COMPLETE):  Mulder’s knack for getting himself and Scully into sticky situations leads them to the heart of NOLA at the tail end of Hurricane season after barely surviving a Floridian storm—to investigate a rumor of a notable Voodoo Queen and missing girls trying to bring her back. (A gift for @starbuck09256)

Intrigues in the Dark (COMPLETE):   A string of suicides leads Mulder and Scully to a sleepy, coastal town in Oregon for the second time—on their return to The X File—as tensions run high and nothing is as it seems. (A gift for @admiralty-xfd)

By Light, Unseen (COMPLETE):   A series of re-opened cold case murders with one link…they’d been drained of every drop of blood and wore the same, haunting stare toward the sky with their lips aghast as if they were still screaming. (A gift for @serahsanguine)

Post-Series

A House is Not a Home (COMPLETE):  The mere thought of raising a newborn in a world full of horrors has every part of Scully’s emotional irrationality over firing on a chilly, winter evening. Mulder wants nothing more than to show her that not everything is gray and grim. (for @danceswithcybermen)

Remember the Reason (COMPLETE):  Post Series (Part 1 of the “Little Redhead Series”). Mulder and Scully already knew that life with a newborn would be difficult but the first Christmas with their two-month-old daughter throws every curveball…some worse than others, some more humorous. (For @underworldobsessed)

Confectioners Sugar & Snow Drifts (COMPLETE):  Post Series (Part 2 of the “Little Redhead Series”). Mulder spends the morning bonding with Eliana by having a Christmas baking session while Scully is out shopping for gifts. Messes, mayhem, and a healthy dose of laughter ensue. No moment is ever dull as the snow falls outside.

The Easter Bunny was a Fox (COMPLETE):  Post Series (Part 3 of the “Little Redhead” Series). Scully has to pick up Bill, Tara, and a couple of surprise family from the airport, leaving Mulder alone with their 6-year-old daughter, Eliana, on Easter Morning. All she has for him are curiosities as Easter’s non-Christian ideology unfolds before her eyes…creating the most unique bonding opportunity for a father and his daughter. (For Flicked_Switch)

Angst/UST/RST

Caught in the Rain (COMPLETE):  A dark, rainy night leads Mulder and Scully to a hole in the wall bar where glasses of Scotch and unresolved tension is re-visited.

Or We Can Burn (COMPLETE):  Post Never Again - expansion and continuation of the aftermath surrounding what Scully has been hiding from Mulder.

It Lingers (COMPLETE):  The aftermath of trauma and the lingering effects of Mulder’s risky attempt to recover the truth about Samantha’s abduction leads to a revelation from Scully about her own coping mechanisms and flashes into a past she doesn’t fully remember...and the path to which they lead thereafter. (For @red2007)

Fluff/Humor

Nervous Laughter (COMPLETE):  It’s been two full days since their tender, albeit brief, moment at the stroke of midnight and Mulder decides to be brave and methodical by inviting Scully over for a little movie and popcorn night for a film that has stayed locked in his mind as her favorite—The Exorcist. (This is a gift for @rationalcashew)

Lamplight & Shooting Stars (COMPLETE):  It’s Spring-time in DC and spontaneous, mutually taken vacation time has become a personal mission of Mulder’s to surprise Scully with so much more than an escape from their norm—and the unseasonable, uncomfortable city heat. (For @underworldobsessed)

Into the Nightlife (ONGOING):  A little paid vacation time never hurt anyone, right? (Not giving anything away this time)

Smut

Insomniac (COMPLETE):  Another lonely, sleepless night, another dingy motel, and another town that isn’t home for Mulder…but, something changed, with the last gasp of the air conditioner as his partner, and best friend, chooses to walk through the adjoining door. (Expanded writing exercise)

Vultus in Speculo (COMPLETE):  The last of the paperwork on the Strickland case has been finalized and filed and Scully goes off for a drink at a known FBI watering hole. Mulder is invited but doesn’t show up until after Scully is halfway through a drink—giving him an opening to inquire about a whole lot more than her flirtations with the Sheriff in the booth of a rooftop bar. (written for @msrheadcanon

Phosphorescence (COMPLETE):  Still reeling from their experience in North Carolina, Mulder and Scully take a much-needed excursion to the coast of Oregon, where a flicker of light becomes more than a curiosity in the middle of the night. (Written for @anniexami)

The Darker Side of Love (COMPLETE): Mulder does not want to talk but he does not want Scully to leave, either. (This is for the MSR fanzine vol 3)

Ficlets/Drabbles/Short Prompt Collection

Affirmations and Protestations: “Fluff and Angst” Prompts (ONGOING):  

 Chapter 1 - "You Weren't Supposed to Hear That" - prompt #5, 61, 77

Chapter 2 - "Shout!" - prompt #19, 61 (From Valerie)

Chapter 3 - "Litost" - prompt #1, 85, 97 (From Monika)

Chapter 4 - "Ad Infinitum" - prompt #42 (From Minuete)

Chapter 5 - "Brick" - prompt - After Scully calls Mulder in the ep Emily, she asks him to bring her some things from home. Her journal falls to the floor and Mulder sees some things written about him that she has never allowed him to know. (from Monika)

Chapter 6 - "I'd rather be oblivious" - prompt #46 (from Annie)

Criminal Minds

Angst/UST/RST

Dulce Periculum (COMPLETE):  Maxine and Spencer have continued seeing each other, in spite of the interference brought to the surface by Cat Adams. Spencer continues to work closely with the BAU after it nearly dismantled, with signature members scattering to the winds, leaving behind only a few, including himself, to keep working on their caseload. After a long, intense case, Spencer returns home to a little more than a can of worms. (A gift for an anonymous prompter)

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit

Angst/UST/RST

Chasing your Silhouette (COMPLETE):  They’d learned each other’s quirks and intricacies on the job—but when did it become over the line? When did physicality become a detriment to them once they’ve taken off their shields? When did they realize the line in the sand no longer existed? (This is meant to take place a couple weeks after “Zebras” – had to assume a timeline, I don’t remember actual dates)

Paternity Redux - Time Just Stopped (COMPLETE):  Her strength has always been immeasurable—but sometimes, something has to give and a string breaks. Nothing will ever be the same.“I’m trying my best, that is enough.” - UnknownThis is part of a challenge, to right a series of wrongs in an episode that has perpetrated many a discussion of “What Could Have Been”. WriterKC, Liv.Einziger, JustAnotherBookWorm78, MrsWellRested, EORocks, AlexisDawn, ChriskaPeach, and I have stepped up to the plate to do just that.

Oblivion (ONGOING 9/? Chapters posted ***UPDATED***):   The undercover operation in Oregon takes an unexpected, unpleasant turn for Olivia Benson as an injury turns her life, and career, upside-down leaving her with pieces of her memory scattered in the wind.

Humor

Unlock the Door (TENTATIVELY COMPLETE 2/2):   Olivia returns home from a celebratory series of shots with Kim Greylek and lets Elliot Stabler hear a little more than she ever intended to in the aftermath.

Series

Polaroids and Promises (COMPLETE):   The Special Victims Unit has undergone an enormous amount of changes in the past six months, to the point that they are drastically undermanned—until a transfer from the 13th precinct brings new life, and a little chaos, to the team. Will her addition prove to be a permanent shift or a flash in the pan?

Discarded Dignity (COMPLETE):   Elora continues to gain much-needed confidence as a member of the Special Victims Unit but an arrival booked for trespassing, assaulting an officer, and disorderly throws her progress into chaos as her past jumps to the surface. Will she be able to look beyond the misstep to solve one of the most convoluted cases she’s faced? 

Contract Corruption (ONGOING 10/?):   Dickie Stabler and Justin Andrisani are in over their heads--and the members of SVU and the Organized Crime task force must come together in order to set things right.

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit/Organized Crime Crossover

Series

Words of love, words of lies, words of loss

Age of Regret (COMPLETE):  Elliot Stabler has never been good with words but ten years and a double on the rocks in a lonely room will make a man pour his heart out…in any way that he can.

Infidelis (COMPLETE): Elliot had been haunted by too many ghosts; expectations, fantasies, and a promise that he knew should never be kept. It was time to lay them all to rest. “I do not regret you…I regret what you did to me.” - Unknown

[ikeromantic]

Tears of Joy

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - this scene takes place at the end of Ch. 13 in the romantic route. Spoilers! Approx. 2300 words

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Trust

Mitsuhide worked from the hallway, sending orders and letters through Kyubei to see to the settling of the shogun and his new staff. It was tiring work - but satisfying. Against the odds, he’d succeeded yet again. With help, of course, but it was still remarkable what victory could be pulled from a little wit and a lot of will.

Kyubei arrived with the latest information, his expression one of grim resolve. His hand kept touching the short, dark fuzz at the top of his head. A new nervous gesture, Mitsuhide surmised. The vassal and spy had been uneasy since the shogun’s death. Despite that, he was doing an excellent job teaching Riku how to imitate Yoshiaki and filling him in on things the scribe hadn’t known about his lord.

“What news?” Mitsuhide set down his report from Chugaki and gave his vassal full attention.

Kyubei swallowed. “Ah, it looks like the pirates will be on their way by this evening. Mouri hasn’t announced an official withdrawal, but his warriors are packing up all the weapons and sake they can carry . . .” He paused and glanced toward the closed door behind Mitsuhide. Though he had obvious questions, he continued with his report. “The Ikko Ikki are all but gone. Kennyo and a few of his close confidants remain.”

“As expected. I was unable to embed another pair of eyes with the monks, but we should receive regular reports on the doings of Motonari when he sets sail. Anything else?” Mitsuhide knew there was more. Otherwise Kyubei would have sent information like this in a written report.

Kyubei’s eyes went to the door again. “There were, that is, I overheard some of the pirates discussing the chatelaine. Apparently, some are under the impression she will be leaving with Mouri.”

Mitsuhide’s eyes flashed and his smile turned sharp. “I assure you that is not the case.”

“I didn’t think so, my lord.” He paused again, then bowed. “I - I also wanted to offer my apology. Words are not enough, of course. I will - I will do whatever you think is fitting. But . . . I allowed the chatelaine to come to harm. I tore her clothes and frightened her. I failed to protect her and made her captivity worse. If you hadn’t arrived when you did . . .” His voice cracked and he went silent.

“You believe your choices led her to be captured?” Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow.

“No - not directly. But if I’d warned you of the ninja sooner-”

“I would still have been no more likely to catch him on his way in or out of our blockade.” Mitsuhide frowned. “I knew there was risk in leaving her alone. She did as well. Neither of us has regret.”

Kyubei’s head bobbed, but he still didn’t straighten. “I didn’t help her escape. I was afraid it would expose my mission. She was hurt as a result.”

“Yes,” Mitsuhide said dryly. “And you tore her kimono to make it look as if you’d taken her, yes?”

Kyubei nodded again.

“Also to preserve your cover. And if you had been exposed, she would have been taken to the barracks for their pleasure. I fail to see how that would have improved her situation.”

“But my lord . . . she might have died.” Kyubei’s voice was hoarse and low.

Mitsuhide agreed. “She risked her life for our mission. Do not diminish that by taking her pain as your failure. We all did what we must to see this through.”

“Then I have your forgiveness?”

“There is nothing to be forgiven. Now go - I am sure the shogun has need of you.” Mitsuhide waved him away.

Kyubei bowed even lower before standing and hurrying away.

He sat still as a stone until the sound of his vassal’s footsteps faded to nothing. Then he stood and quietly entered the room. There was a little light from the setting sun outside. The air here smelled of ginger, reeds, and honey - the fragrant parts of the ointment he used on his little one. Mitsuhide sank silently to the floor beside her.

She was still asleep. Deeply so. Her body was recovering from her ordeal. A brutal abduction, a restless day trapped in a store room, and then a near-death experience. She was so fragile, and yet strong.

His hands shook as he tenderly ran his fingers through her hair. She meant so much to him, this sweet little mouse. Mitsuhide was finally forced to acknowledge just how close he’d come to losing her. Or worse. He ran his hand over her shoulders just to reassure himself she was there and whole. The bruises were already fading. Her throat had a thin, dark scab where Yoshiaki’s knife had pressed too close. In a few weeks, this would be only a memory. One he hoped would disappear beneath the joy of their life together.

“M-mitsuhide?” Her lashes fluttered as she tried to open her eyes.

“I am here little one.”

Her hand reached for him, cool fingertips tracing his cheekbones. “Are you crying?”

He was, he realized.

“I’m ok. You - you shouldn’t cry.” She sat up and looked at him. Her eyes were wide in the dim light.

“They are tears of joy. See?” He smiled.

She scooted forward and snuggled into his lap. When she was comfortable again, she looked up at him. “You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Then you know I’m not. Or . . . not completely.” Which was true. He was relieved she was alright.

“Mmm. I suppose I will take that. But you know, the crying part is my job. So next time . . .” She brushed a tear from his cheek. “Next time leave it to me. I c-can’t bear to see you look so sad.”

“Nor I, you.”

She quieted down at that, and closed her eyes. Her head rested on his chest, and he could feel the tickle of her steady breath. Mitsuhide might have laid down with her on the futon, but a knock at the door spoiled the moment.

“Enter,” he said, thinking it would be a servant, perhaps with dinner. Instead, it was Kennyo.

The abbot gave him a wary look. “Our alliance is at an end, kitsune. We have what we wanted from this venture.”

“It is. Which begs the question . . . why are you still here?”

Kennyo’s dark gaze fell to the chatelaine. She’d fallen asleep again, and showed no signs of rousing. “How is she? She looks better.”

“She is.”

The abbot seemed to struggle within himself for a moment. Then he took a packet from his robes and held it out to Mitsuhide. “Give this to her when she wakes. It is best to prepare it as a tea, steeped until dark. Then she must drink it while it is still warm.”

Mitsuhide looked at the small, paper packet with some distrust.

“Take it. I would not poison her.”

“Not even for your revenge?” Mitsuhide’s eyebrow rose.

Kennyo’s frown deepened and he met the kitsune warlord’s gaze. After several tense heartbeats, his response rumbled between clenched teeth. “I would not harm her, even for that.”

Mitsuhide took the packet and tucked it into his kimono. “I believe you.”

The abbot gave a brief nod and his eyes fell to the sleeping girl. His expression softened by the barest shadow. “I hope you will take better care of her. Know that I will be watching.”

Then he turned on his heel and left. The door slid shut behind him, fast and silent.

The lovers were alone again.

“It seems you brought a little light to that demon’s heart, mouse.” Mitsuhide kissed her temple. “I would not have thought it possible. But you work miracles. I am proof of that.”

She smiled in her sleep, lulled to sweet dreams by the sound of her soulmate’s heartbeat.

***

Morning came with pale yellow light and the sound of talk, even laughter, from the fortress. People returning to normal after the brief but deadly fighting. Mitsuhide was glad they were able to go back to their lives - or to make a new place for themselves. Something he intended to do as soon as they returned to Azuchi.

His little mouse stirred and yawned. Then she looked around the room with a dazed expression. “Did I sleep the whole night?”

“You did.”

“Just like this?” She ran her fingertip along his collarbone.

Mitsuhide shivered at the touch, feeling it awaken something inside him. A fire he’d kept banked for months now. “Not quite like that,” he grinned. “But in my arms? Yes.”

“What? But . . . did you get any rest?”

“I did. I found watching you sleep to be very restful.” This was truth. He’d spent the night listening to her breath, letting her warmth soak into him.

She frowned. “That’s not what I meant! I mean real sleep. You need to get some too. You are human.���

“Are you sure?” He raised an eyebrow and chuckled as she smacked his arm. “You seem to be feeling better.”

“I am. I’d feel even better with a bath.”

Mitsuhide remembered their last bath, shared at an inn. He’d teased her until they were both desperate, and he’d left them like that. Unwilling to take that final step with her until he was sure he would be there after. “Are you very dirty?” He lifted her enough for his lips to find her neck and nibble the skin just under her ear.

She squealed and pretended to try to escape.

“Mmm, you taste pretty clean to me. But perhaps I need to sample a wider selection.”

“Mitsuhide!” She wriggled, trying to get out of his lap. “You can’t be serious!”

“I am always serious when it comes to you.” He let her out of his grasp and watched as she got up. She didn’t look unsteady, but he still stood and offered her his hand. “I suppose I will have to take your word about the need for a bath. But I think we should return to Kyoto before we indulge.”

His little mouse considered, then nodded. “Yeah. If I take a bath before we ride back, I’ll just be filthy again by the time we get there.” She looked around the room. “Are we leaving here already?”

“We are. Kyubei has things in hand and a longer stay will only raise questions.” He pointed to some clothes folded in the corner. “Get dressed and I’ll send word we are leaving.”

She smiled. “Alright. I’ll try to hurry.”

Mitsuhide left her in the room and went to find a servant. It wasn’t hard to do, and soon enough he was on his way back. He was stopped by the silver gleam of a pistol. At the other end of the barrel, a wobbly Motonari stood, braced against the wall.

“Yer not goin’ back.” His eyes were glazed with heavy drink and he stunk of sweat, gunpowder, and alcohol.

“And I suppose you plan to . . . what? Shoot me? Kidnap my little mouse? Flee to your ship?”

Motonari shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanna kill ya. One more enemy crossed off my list.”

Mitsuhide grinned. “I doubt that. This isn’t much of a struggle.” His eyes were hard despite the smile. “And if this is for her . . . you know she would never forgive you.”

“She’d get over it. Women . . .” he belched. “Women always do.”

“My little one isn’t ‘women’,” Mitsuhide replied. “Even you must know that by now. ”

Motonari began to laugh. He waved his gun toward the door. “Ya get in there before ya say anythin’ more stupid than that.” He pushed past Mitsuhide, stumbling down the hall.

Mitsuhide rushed to the room and slid open the door. His little one squeaked and pulled her kimono closed.

“I’m not dressed yet!”

He looked around, reassuring himself that everything was as he’d left it. “Perhaps that is why I hurried back.” Mitsuhide gave her a wicked smile. He didn’t tell her about Motonari in the hall. She didn’t need to know.

“Pffft,” she stuck her tongue out at him, but he could tell the flattery made her happy.

They rode out from the fortress before noon, sharing a saddle. The day felt brighter the further from the fortress they got. Mitsuhide knew he wasn’t the only one that felt that way. He could see it in the set of his lover’s shoulders and in the way she smiled.

Once the bloodstained fortress was only a memory hidden behind the dust of the road, she spoke. “I feel like I am riding toward a whole new life. Like . . . like everything is different. Just because one man died. Isn’t that silly?”

“I don’t think it is.” Mitsuhide rested his chin on her head. “Yoshiaki caused so much death and misery with his ambition. That is why we did what we had to.”

“But there are other people just as bad-”

“And none of them are shogun.” He held the reins with one hand and used the other to hug her closer.

After a long silence, she nodded. “I guess I just feel guilty for being glad he’s dead.”

“Don’t.” He paused, then added, “Besides, shogun Ashikaga is just fine. He’s simply in exile. Staying far away from the capital and politics for the rest of his life.”

“Mmhmm. Poor Riku.” She tapped her chin. “Do you think he’ll do ok?”

“With the help we’ve given him, that scribe will be a much better shogun than Yoshiaki. You’ll see.” Then he moved their conversation to lighter things. “After we arrive at the inn, I will send out for food. What treats would tempt my little mouse?” That was all it took to send her into a monologue of her favorite foods.

She took such delight in the little things. It made Mitsuhide want to have joy in them too. He promised himself he would try. For her - he would do anything. So ran his thoughts as they passed the gate into Kyoto and caught sight of the inn.

Then all he could think of was their bath, and how very much he was looking forward to enjoying it with her.

Next: Delicious SFW/NSFW