#but i don't feel like i can trust them really

[juney-blues]

June Egbert is, and always has been incredibly fascinating to me because of just, how many factors have conspired to make Homestuck fans show their collective transmisogynistic asses.

The main character of Homestuck transitioning is a planned future plot point for the official continuation of homestuck, that was spoiled in advance by a fan making a joke about finding some toblerones Andrew Hussie the author of homestuck hid in a cave.

The current main writers of Homestuck: Beyond Canon have went on record in an AMA confirming that this was indeed always the plan, even before they took up the project.

In spite of these facts, the general consensus among certain homestuck fans seems to be that "June Egbert" is purely a headcanon for the original comic that was "made canon" by a "Toblerone Wish" (a concept that didn't even exist at the time)

For a variety of reasons, the "canonicity" of the postcanon official continuations of homestuck is a mattter of much debate, (though a debate that most homestuck fans seem to err on a side of "it's not canon at all in the slightest," something the writers have feelings on I'm sure.)

All of these factors combined leave the concept of "June Egbert" in a very nebulous place. It's assumed by most to just be an "ascended headcanon" that was shoehorned in, it's a spoiler so it hasn't happened yet in any official media, and the official media it will eventually happen in is regarded by some to be nothing more than glorified fanfic.

If someone is talking about June Egbert, and you don't like the concept of June Egbert, you have your pick of a million different excuses for why she's fake and gay and not worth discussing and bad writing and just the authors doing a gay dumbledore*, paying lip service to representation while actually doing nothing.

And of course, lots of people *don't* like June Egbert! Rather than being introduced as transfem from the start, she's in this nebulous position of discovery where people have to truly reckon with the idea of a "Pre-transition Trans Woman."

You can try to write off *some* of the backlash as transphobia, because obviously not everyone in this fandom is gonna be cool about trans people.

But there's no shortage of fans just dying to tell you about how much they like reading her as transmasc, or the idea of her being nonbinary or genderqueer or genderfluid, or literally anything besides a trans woman. And since they're fine with all those other interpretations, there's obviously no implicit biases driving their distaste for the concept! (if you want to try explaining the concept of "transmisogyny" to people like this you're braver than I.)

you can trust them when they say it's *just* a problem with whether or not it makes sense with the writing, or it just doesn't feel right somehow, or any of the thousands of excuses that this writing situation gives them to just Not Like It.

It's just, so interesting to me. There's not a lot of characters out there that get a trans arc in this way, that leaves room for open denialism and insistence that we have our trans cake and eat it too... Because Homestuck is a timeline spanning multiverse story, lots of people seem to want it to be an alternate timeline thing. Assuring us we can have this character share space with a non-transitioning version of herself and it won't be weird or imply gross things about trans people.

If you ask me it feels like a plotline that'd be really good for exploring some gender horror though, finding your true self and then being demoted to a footnote, an alternate version, because everyone around you likes your pre-transition self more....

Anyway I have no broader point beyond "hey look at this isn't this kinda weird. You don't get this kinda stuff often!"

*side note: it's a little ghoulish I think to compare "a future trans plot point that hasn't been given the chance to even happen yet, in an already famously queer piece of media, from a nonbinary author" to "some stupid shit done by the literal most famous transphobe of all time" but that's perhaps a discussion for later.

[floatyflowers]

Part two of Dark! Sauron X Celebrimor's Daughter! Reader.

I really want to know about the baby and surely Sauron will bind her with some spell or something so that she doesn't give him away or do anything, Sauron is undoubtedly one of the characters with the most yandere potential.

Part 1

You kept your pregnancy hidden from your father, and it was an easy task as Celebrimbor is focusing all his attention on the rings.

And you stayed most of your days in your chambers surrounded by a few trusted servants who would keep your pregnancy a secret.

Of course, Sauron is the one who manipulated them to ensure you have a safe delivery.

The problem with pregnancy is that it is spiritually painful for an elf woman as it can last from one year up to 108 years, however you are not a full elleth.

You are half-human half-elf, meaning you will take only nine months to give birth, yet it's still a hard experience.

Your mother left you and your father after giving birth, she suffered severe depression.

Apparently, that's one of the reasons why Celebrimbor doesn't trust humans.

You, on the other hand, don't hate your mother for leaving, however, you want your child to grow up with you by their side.

Sauron, took advantage of your state and implanted happy visions in your mind of you, him, and the baby which is a daughter.

Annatar would come to your bed at the end of the day, only to place his hand on your growing bump, feeling satisfaction that his plan is going well.

But deep down, you knew that it was him trying to manipulate you.

However, it brought you a great sense of comfort even if you despised your baby's father.

It's quite unfortunate that your water broke when the orcs decided to attack your land, Eregion.

"Where is my father, Annatar?" you demanded, refusing to give birth in such horrible circumstances.

"Focus on birthing our daughter, and don't worry yourself, my dear"

Sensing your panic, Sauron begins muttering a few words, using magic to calm you down.

However, instead, you block him out and begin weeping.

You would rather you and your child die then face the horrid war.

"I need to speak with my father, now!" you exclaim, holding your stomach in pain.

Sauron decided on invading your mind to order you, using his deep frightening voice.

His true nature has finally shown itself, and it's too scary for you to disobey or even rebel against.

All you could see in your mind is a figure made of fire, speaking to you.

"If our child does not survive, I will ensure that your father and everyone you know face suffering. Tell me, is that a fate you desire for them, my pet?"

The servants watch in confusion as you shake your head at Annatar before starting to push.

"When I return, I expect to see you holding our daughter"

And like that, Sauron takes his leave to see to Adar's army.

[thefrogman]

Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would

not get very many notes.

At all.

I am not sure exactly why.

I think people hated pressing an extra thing.

But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.

But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.

When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."

That was a really good feeling.

I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.

So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.

Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.

But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."

This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.

I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).

It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".

Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.

I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.

While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)

The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.

Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?

KEEP READING

I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.

I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.

I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.

So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.

100% true ferret fact..

If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...

[culturalsillystine]

This ended up longer than I intended.

Here's a long rant about Zero Day, denial, and finding comfort in your sickness.

.

One of the things that's stuck with us since our first time watching Zero Day is when Cal says something about not being able to cure someone who has nothing wrong with them.

Some people get so deep into their illness that they start to tell themselves, "There is nothing wrong with me." It's self-soothing, in a way. You have nothing to fix if there's nothing wrong, right? And you get sucked further and further into it until it's all you know, so it becomes normal. There's truly nothing wrong with you, because it's your norm, and how could that be wrong?

And then you get worse and worse until something happens. It could be something bad, such as Cal and Andre's case. Something people would usually never consider. But when you're sick, you're sick, and things don't make sense, and it doesn't matter what people would or wouldn't consider. Because you would, and you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.

That, or you get help. And Andre briefly mentions something, I think it may be before what Cal says? I'm not sure, correct me if I'm wrong. But he mentions something, says that even if they did get caught and got put in counseling or something, they'd get out, and they'd still do it.

And that leads you to wonder, is that true? Is that truly what would happen? Or are they feeling so untouchable and so powerful that they think NOTHING can stop them. Not even professional help.

And we'll never know. That's what I enjoy about Zero Day, there's so much we never know. We just have to trust these two boys who will present you with their truth, not the truth.

We see very little of Cal's family, and what we do see isn't bad. What we see of Andre's is.. conflicting. His family means well, but he's an 18 year old boy who likes guns and doesn't seem to get enough appreciation from his father. It writes itself, really.

We see none of Andre interacting with his peers, we only see Cal during the prom scenes. And the prom scenes are loud and irritating and awkward. He doesn't really try to be social, he takes the next possible chance to go to the only person he really bothers socializing with; Andre.

They're both very sick. Whether it's the same thing, something similar, or something entirely different, who's to say, but they find comfort in each other. They're both rotting away, and it's okay, because it's together. Whether or not it's based in love (platonic or romantic) or a hatred for the world so deep that your vision is blurred by your tears of rage, who knows. You never get to know.

Because the last thing those boys would want is to be vulnerable. Because that means something is wrong. But nothing can be wrong, because you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.

I hope this makes sense and isn't incoherent.

[maximumqueer]

Ok, so I got to (and past) ep. 26 of Witchlight, where Gideon is hit with a fey love curse which has him be head over heels in love with Kremy. And it just has me thinking about how vastly different the two of them reacted to being fey cursed to be in love with the other (though we all know they are in love without the fey curse) and what that says about them as people, as well as the way that they view relationships.

When Kremy was under the effects of the fey curse, he was dead set on making sure Gideon (or anybody really) did not find out about him being in love. He, for all intents and purposes, did not act all that differently that he would have other than being more outwardly jealous of the fact that Gideon was marrying other people. (Richie saying "I know" with that smug look in his face will live rent free in my mind forever). This says a lot about Kremy, and the way he views romantic (or even just more intimate) relationships. He is so full of shame and insecurity at the prospect of being in love of Gideon that it all has to be done through a false lens of irony. And I think that is because Kremy, at the end of the day, is a conniving conman. He views relationships as advantageous. He is so clearly afraid of vulnerably that, even when under the effect of a love curse, is still trying his best to not let on that he is in love. (I also think this points to him actually being in love with Gideon, as it does not completely alter his behavior). He needs to maintain control on his feelings in order to be in control of every situation he is in, so that he can exploit the people he needs to, as well as make himself as un-exploitable as possible. Obviously he is friends with Gideon, Gricko, and Frost, but I can't help but believe that the trust we see him have in them was built slowly over years. Just look at the way he views Torbek earlier on. And as such, admitting that the relationship he has with Gideon goes deeper, and is more intimate that just friends and business partners, is a (nearly) impossible task for Kremy, as he does not want to feel or be viewed as vulnerable.

With Gideon, the second he gets cursed, he immediately goes all in. He says that he loves Kremy, that he is happy they are married, and goes out of his way to touch him, be close to him, compliment him. Now, this is more distinctly different from how Gideon usually behaves around Kremy, but I don't necessarily think that means that his love is completely fake. I do think, however, that it means that Gideon is unaware of the full extent of his feelings when it comes to Kremy. Because, while it was said in a joking manner, I believe that there is some truth to the claim that Gideon has commitment issues. Not in the sense that he is or ever would be unfaithful in a more committed relationship, but rather that some wires got crossed in his head (thanks to the years and years of trauma from the fucking train) and that he now views being 'tied down' to one individual in a romantic sense in a similar way as being imprisoned. He wants freedom, he doesn't want to feel beholden to a single person. And obviously this is an unhealthy way to view relationships, as a healthy one will not make you feel like you are being caged. But this does not seem to be based off of experience for Gideon, as all of his 'romantic' exploits seem to have been causal hookups that may end in him getting shotgun married and then immediately cutting town, but nothing more. It is the concept of romantic commitment that Gideon does not like, not the actual act of commitment itself. Because he IS committed to Kremy, and he has no qualms with being 'tied down' to Kremy in this way. As such, he doesn't view his feelings as being anything other than platonic, as he expects romance to feel like a cage. Until he gets slapped with fey magic, and those feelings about commitment temporarily go away.

Basically this is a really long way of saying that I LOVE how Richie and Mace both decided to play their characters being (explicitly) in love with the other. It makes for beautiful (and very funny) character work and gives us, the audience, a bit more insight into the dumbass minds (affectionate) of Kremy and Gideon.

[ghouldump]

To Be Loved | Armand x Reader

ෆ idolized and worshipped by your coven members, alive but not living, things quickly change for you when you move to Paris, and meet your soulmate.

requested via private messages, this was so cute, no manipulative gremlin armand.

What is Love? A feeling of deep admiration or likeness? Patience, kindness, unconditional forgiveness? It was hard to tell. The emotion had become so distant from you, a faint memory from half of a millennial ago. Love required trust, and you couldn't bring yourself to trust another.

“My lord, the sun has departed for the night,” Demetrius said, making you look up from your lap. Everyone kneeled before you, their heads down.

“You may go and hunt,” you dismissed them, closing your eyes. You could feel their stares lingering, hesitating, as they stood up, leaving you alone in the dungeon.

“How long will you starve yourself? At least feed on the rodents, you look like death,” hearing her voice, feeling her closeness, but refusing to face her, to acknowledge the concerned expression.

“Good, then I’m one step closer to dying for good,” you sighed.

“Y/n, don't be stupid, go drink, it is an order from your maker,” she ordered, making you open your eyes.

“Leave me,” you screamed, facing her, but she was gone.

Cassia, the reason you were here today, the last person you trusted. You were from a wealthy family, and your father, and his father, both swordsmiths, valued, oftentimes working alongside kings and their soldiers.

While he was never home, your mother was too immersed in raising your younger siblings to focus on you, nevertheless, you were loved. On birthdays and traditional holidays, you'd receive amazing gifts of all kinds, praised and advised on everything, you couldn't have asked for a better life. It wasn't until the mysterious young woman, Cassia moved close by, that your life changed.

You had been out later than usual, on your way home from a friend’s house, when you saw her. She stood outside of her house, reaching for the apples on the tree.

“Hey, could you lend me a hand, I can't reach these,” she called out, stopping you, just as you passed her short fence.

“I really need to get home,” you said, apologetically.

“It will only take a moment, please, come,” she said, watching as you awkwardly entered the gate. You didn't understand how she thought you could help when there wasn't a big difference in your height.

Jumping a few times, you managed to knock the apples out of the tree. Picking them up, you placed them in her basket, turning to leave, but she stopped you.

“Bring them in,” she told you, already walking into the house. Glancing down the road at your house, you picked up the basket, and you entered the home. It was much brighter than outside with all of the candles, neatly arranged.

“You can sit them on the table,” she said, turning to face you. Your eyes widened for a moment, she was one the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her skin was perfect, smooth with a few small moles, full lips, doll eyes, and glossy soft hair.

“Thank you,” she told you.

“You're welcome,” you said, turning to leave.

“How old are you? I heard your family a few weeks back, celebrating a birthday,” she said.

“Eighteen”

“And you aren't betrothed?” she asked, as she moved closer.

“No, my father will begin looking for arrangements later this year,” you explained.

“Good, whoever has you, will be lucky, you have a heart of gold,” she said, her hand going to your cheek. She was moving closer, making you uncomfortable, an eerie grin on her lips.

“Go, it is getting late, but come back tomorrow night,” she continued.

There was something intriguingly bizarre about the woman because despite how weird she seemed, the next night you found yourself, fidgeting with your fingers, in front of her door, contemplating if you wanted to knock. Just as you raised your hand, the door opened.

“Come in,” she smiled, moving out of the way.

“I don't believe I got your name, yesterday night,” she continued.

“Y/n,” you held out your hand.

“Cassia,” she raised an eyebrow, taking your hand into her own.

Awkwardly staring at your hands, while she gazed at you, she continued caressing her thumb against your skin. Clearing your throat, you took your hand away.

“What did you need?”

“I have a gift, for your generosity,” she said.

“No need, it was nothing-

“I insist, please, sit,” she pointed to the table. Gulping, you went to sit down, something peculiar about her tone sent a chill down your spine.

“I hope you like apples, I made pastries, it has been a long time since I’ve made anything like these, but I know they are delicious,” she smiled, setting the tray in front of you. The slice of fresh apple pie, along with cookies.

“Thank you, this really was unnecessary,” you shook your head, breaking a piece of the cookie.

“You were the first and only to help me, it is obvious that you have been chosen,” she told you, watching as you ate the cookie.

“Do you like it?” she asked, smirking as you nodded. Chewing, you began to cough a little, repeatedly clearing your throat, and staring into the cookie. Standing up, you made your way to the door, stumbling, Cassia slowly behind you, catching you, as you fell unconscious.

Waking up, you struggled to move, opening your eyes, confused to see Cassia, straddling your lap, placing a variety of ointments and oils onto your body.

“W-what is going on?”

“I am preparing your body for your death,” she told you before she started humming.

“My what? Release me,” you wiggled, stopping as her hand went to your throat.

“You have been chosen, do not ruin this,” she snapped.

“Cassia, please, what are you talking about?”

“Those who must be kept were cursed, damned to eternity on earth, and to live off of blood, but the creator showed them mercy, bestowing soulmates. A companionship stronger than any other, the perfect partner, meant only for those with the dark gift. My soulmate, Elias, was weak, he chose the sun, he chose death over me. I’ve prayed and prayed, and I asked for another soulmate, and you have come along, helping me and I have to turn you to ensure we have each other forever,” she said, your eyes widened in fear, shaking your head.

“You're mistaken-

“I haven't been more certain,” she told you, her fingers brushing over your lips before she bared her fangs.

“To us, and an eternity of our love,” she said, sinking her fangs into your neck draining the life from out of you.

Turning you, within a single night, you had lost everything. Your family, friends, life, everyone sensed how different you became. How you suddenly left home and would only be seen with the strange woman. The same exterior, but a different entity possessing the body they once knew. The new social discrimination you experienced didn't help, being shunned for your not-so-obvious relationship with Cassia.

She was a lonely soul and out of your kindness, she convinced herself you were her second chance at love. She would later explain how it felt when you would come across your soulmate. How you would love them no matter who they were, their shade, or where they were from. She didn't realize it until turning you, but she had been wrong, there was no second chance. She would've let you go, to find your way with the dark gift, but she couldn't.

After the side effects wore off, the way you looked at her, your maker, brought butterflies. She knew it was only the gift, bringing on the newfound lust, but she gave in anyway. It was nothing more than sex for you but after centuries of celibacy, it felt like lovemaking to Cassia. On the living room floor, until morning came, then reality came down on you. Pulling away, a hint of disgust in your eyes, she knew then. Running outside, you only made it past her fence, before you fell to your knees, screaming in agony.

“Cassia,” you cried out, confused why this was happening.

Wearing a cloak, she grabbed a blanket and rushed out to save you, carrying you back into the house. From that point, even if you weren't hers, she loved you and felt a need to take care of you. After a few decades together, you eventually accepted her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before you came across your soulmate. That is why, a century into your companionship, she finally surrendered to the sun, leaving everything to you.

The last person to love you had left you alone. Her wealth and dark gifts, she passed, but you were utterly alone. You became a vagabond, you had no one to keep you settled in one place. You attempted to surrender a few times, but Cassia’s spirit wouldn't seem to leave you alone, talking you out of it every time. You formed a bitterness towards her, she claimed to love you, yet she brought you into this lonesome life, just to leave you.

Eventually, you found yourself in Rome, Cassia’s homeland. She and her soulmate were both turned and met here. You acted as if you hated her, but found yourself in the very place she was born. Buying a large home in the countryside, you were satisfied with the large dungeon in the home.

Not long went by, before your encounter with the local vampires. They came to you on a night you stood near a cliff, trying to pray. You had been trying for so long, you didnt have an end solution. For God to make your life less lonely, to bring your soulmate, to help you finally end your life, you were sure he wasn't listening, but it helped pass the time.

As they surrounded you, you didn't bother facing them, maybe they could kill you, but then Cassia came, telling you to show them your power. You had inherited all of the gifts and were much older than them. Begrudgingly, you turned to them, flying above them, watching as they quickly submitted to you. Then, one of them pointed out that you were praying, perhaps you were their saint, a mediator for the damned to god himself.

You denied their claims, but they didn't listen, asking to reside with you, which was the beginning of your coven. Eight young vampires, you grew closest to Demetrius, Jonah, and Marianne. Three centuries came and went and they all remained devout. Even though, for the last few years, you would be off and on starving yourself for weeks at a time.

“My lord?”

“Yes, Demetrius?” you answered, slowly turning to look at him. On his knees, his head bowed, he held a box.

“For you, you shouldn't starve yourself like this,” he said, as you took the box, surprised to see the trapped rats inside.

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing one of the rodents, and biting into it.

“The others are too afraid to mention this, and asked me to bring it up with you,” he said, nervously.

“Well, out with it,” you told him.

“We want to leave Rome, a few locals have gotten suspicious, and the talk has made its way to the city. We could easily kill them, but it would cause too much attention, so we think it is best to leave,” he said.

“Stand up,” you told him. You found it so bothersome having all of them bowing and crawling at your feet.

“The others are aware that they are able to leave this coven, I will not stop any of you,” you told him, as he stood in front of you.

“Yes, but we want you to come, Marianne thinks we will be safe in Paris, but we want you to join us,” he said.

“Go with them, Rome no longer serves you any purpose, you only await death here,” Cassia told you, as you stared at Demetrius.

“How soon did everyone expect to leave?”

“As soon as possible”

“Then we will leave for Paris, and you all can come out from hiding,” you said, watching as your coven members slowly revealed themselves.

“Thank heavens, there is one more thing, Demetrius hasn't told you, my lord,” Jonah said, making you face him.

“And what is that?”

“We have hopes of blending in with society”

“Very well-

“I think they mean everyone”

“I mean everyone, and with the utmost respect, you will also have to adjust, or you will look out of place, Marianne can take care of your wardrobe,” he said nervously, glancing at her.

“Tell them yes,” Cassia said excitedly.

“If these are the plans, you all will need to prepare, as soon as possible,” you said, watching as everyone’s faces lit up, dropping to their knees, they worshipped you.

“This is good, you need the change, you can finally take steps towards living your life,” Cassia told you, as you lowered your head.

Hopefully. How long would your life continue like this? The vain worship, as if you were their god. You couldn't remember the last time someone looked into your eyes and saw you as an equal. Maybe Paris could change the agonizing lifestyle you felt trapped in.

“I hope I haven't overdone myself, my lord,” Marianne said, her head down, following you into the large castle-style home.

“It is perfect, I can't remember the last time I saw coffins this nice,” Cassia clapped, walking next to you.

“You have done well, everything is pleasant,” you told her, patting her head as she thanked you profusely.

“Amazing, we have our own coffins?” Alexander, one of the younger, newer members of the coven exclaimed. He was also Marianne’s soulmate.

“Yes, I apologize for my negligence as a coven leader over the years, in the dungeon, I felt no need for coffins, being that it was dark, but coffins are much more comfortable than the cold floor,” you told him, you didn't realize until after speaking, everyone stared at you with such admiration in their eyes.

“We chose you as our leader, and we accept any conditions, as long we can stay with you, although we are very thankful for the upgrade,” Jonah told you, everyone agreeing.

“Enough of the praise, there are still a few hours left in the night, go hunt, and travel together, until you are familiar with your surroundings,” you waved them off.

“You're not coming?”

“Perhaps another time, go on,” you told them, turning away, and going to your room.

It had only been a few hours since arriving in Paris, at the large house. Demetrius took care of finding the place, while Marianne furnished it, before your arrival. You couldn't lie, you felt uncomfortable, your usually unruly appearance had been completely changed, replaced by fitted trousers and a soft turtleneck.

You refused to be walking around in the strange dresses of the age and preferred androgynous pieces of clothing.

“Will you hunt tomorrow?”

“Cassia, why is it that even in death, you force yourself into my life, I am not yours,” you told her sternly.

“You are my fledgling, my blood flows within you, I can not leave you to die, not when you have so much potential and when you haven't given yourself a chance to find your soulmate, even in death, I love you more than myself”

“Then why did you leave? All you wanted was for me to love you, and when I did, you left,” you faced her, pointing accusingly.

“I made a mistake turning you, out of my own selfishness you were created. I couldn't keep you, and deny you the vampire meant to be yours. You can hate me, but I knew what was best, and trust me when I say, that coming to Paris was for the best, what’s yours is soon to come, sooner than you think,” she said, vanishing.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and Cassia never spoke to you. It was refreshing, not having her in your ear. Other than the praise and worship, Paris seemed like the change you needed. No one encountered any other vampires, and they all were beginning to blend, amongst the mortals, as they originally wanted.

“My lord, please help,” Marianne burst into your room. You were levitating, attempting to pray, but opened your eyes.

“What is it?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the blood smeared all over her face.

“Alexander is in trouble; he wandered off while we were hunting and came across a few other vampires, they followed him here and they're much stronger than the others, please do something,” she said, her voice filled with urgency. Nodding, you let your feet touch the ground, before following her.

Just as the door opened, you could see the vampires surrounding your coven, taunting them. Lifting from the ground, with only a flick of your finger, fire sparked around them, making them confusing look around looking up at you.

“Get away from them,” you warned them.

“You and your coven are in claimed territory, you’ve been here for months and haven't made your presence known,” one of the vampires spoke, his back had been turned to you the entire time.

“Careful,” Cassia spoke, you looked over at her. This was the first time seeing her in over seven months.

“I do not answer to other vampires,” you told him, going back to the ground, as he began to turn around.

Fire appeared in his hand, making you do the same, and just as he faced you, both of you froze. His eyes widened, while you shook your head in disbelief. Your heart was racing, goosebumps on your skin, as you stared at this beautiful creature. Your heart was reaching out to him, yearning to be loved and cherished by him, he was your soulmate.

“Enough, let them go,” he spoke to his coven, making them look at him confused.

“We can't just-

“Enough,” he raised his voice, and immediately they stopped, moving away.

Your coven slowly came to you, each of them bowing their heads at you. Alexander looking the most apologetic.

“I am sorry, my lord,” he started.

“You have done nothing wrong,” you reassured him.

“I am Armand, What is your name?” the man spoke, making your eyes shift back to him. As much as you knew for sure he was your soulmate, you refused to give in. To be used for his personal pleasures, like Cassia.

“That is none of your concern,” you said, and immediately he was in front of you. His eyes softened, reaching for your hand, but you took it away.

“You are my soulmate,” he started.

“And if I wasn't, what would have happened? You threatened my coven and me, I am quick to forgive, try again another time,” you spat, turning away, your coven following.

“You're just letting them leave,” Santiago asked, frowning.

“Yes, for now, we must go, the sun will be out soon,” he said, walking toward their bikes.

“Why would you deny him, deny yourself love?” Cassia asked.

“The sun will be out within the next hour,” you announced.

“You would rather be alone, and sulk until you die”

“Stop talking,” you muttered.

“You have followed in my footsteps with your selfishness”

“Cassia shut up,” you yelled, as your coven members shared looks of concern, seeing you yell at what seemed to be nothing.

“Everyone to your coffins,” you said, clearing your throat and going to your room.

“It is not my intention to hurt you, my love, but I don't want you to do this to yourself. If you could have seen from another perspective how he looked at you, he didn't want to harm you, if he comes back, give him a chance, please, for the both of us,” she told you, holding your cheek, before disappearing.

Going to your coffin, you blocked everyone out as they talked among themselves. Whispering questions, and ideas. As the sun came up, you fell asleep easily, all of them leaving your mind as you gave in to the well-needed rest.

Just as the moon covered the sky, you opened your eyes at the sound of a knock on the front door. Getting out of your coffin, you began to leave the room. You could see Demetrius at the door, it was only cracked, but you knew who stood on the other side.

“If I may speak with your leader”

“I don't think that is a-

“It is okay, Demetrius,” you told him, watching as he bowed, opening the door more to reveal him, holding a bouquet of roses.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, thank you,” you said.

“Good boy,” the youthful man said, tauntingly, while Demetrius slowly walked away, growling at him, as he disappeared into his room, as you approached the door.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you asked.

“You told me to try again another time, these are for you,” he said, holding out the flowers for you to take.

“I didn't think you would come so soon,” you said, making them fly across the room, landing on the nearby table.

“You are my soulmate, I couldn't go another moment knowing you are out there, away from me. I apologize for my coven and my behavior, we have been aware of your people for some time now, waiting for any of you to reveal yourselves,” he said.

“I too am at fault, I sensed the presence of another older vampire, but I didn't realize you would be so close,” you admitted, you couldn't decide if it felt odd or refreshing, as he stared into your eyes, nodding after each word that came from your mouth.

“Fate has a way of working, come with me, somewhere more private,” he said, holding out his hand. Hesitantly, you accepted his hand, exiting the house. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lifted from the ground, flying through the sky.

He didn't stop until he was at the famous art museum, freezing security, slowly lowering to the ground. As your cold feet touched the floor, his hand went from your waist to your hand, leading you up the stairs.

“Your coven, they worship you as if you are their god, Y/n, it took a lot of digging to find out your name,” he started.

“They have convinced themselves I am some sort of saint for the damned, I have denied the title, but now I think they have simply chosen to be loyal to me,” you shrugged.

“And your faithful servant, Demetrius?” he asked in a tone you didn't like.

“What about him?”

“He is only your devout worshipper? He seemed to care-

“He is loyal, but if we had anything going on, it wouldn't be any of your business-

“Y/n, don't act like that,” Cassia appeared.

“Would you be quiet,” you started, but froze, realizing you spoke to her, in front of Armand.

“Are you…alright, darling?” he asked, glancing at you.

“My maker insists on haunting me, to make up for her mistakes,” you confessed.

“Her mistakes….”

“She thought I could potentially be her soulmate, so she turned me, but when she realized I would eventually meet my soulmate, she went into the sun,” you said, as you focused on the artwork along the walls.

“I’m sorry”

“Centuries, I have been alone, honored but unknown to my coven, it was her, who had convinced me to come to Paris”

“Then I should be thanking her, for bringing you to me,” he smiled, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Armand, I can’t be with you, I hardly know you-

“You and I, we are more alike than you think, untrusting, hurt, a wall built around us, in hopes of protecting what was once wounded. I’m not asking for you to jump out of your comfort zone, but rather, I’d like to invite you to visit my theatre. You have to get to know someone to decide if they are worthy of being trusted,” he said, making you glance over at him.

This beautiful man, your soulmate, the deepest parts of your soul pleaded to give into his words. Fall into his embrace and exchange your love, but the emotional scars held you back.

Clearing your throat, you walked away from him, towards the next piece of art. “I’ll think about it,” you said, hearing his small chuckle, before he followed behind you.

“Where did you reside, before coming to Paris?” He asked, making you slightly frown.

“Why?”

“I’m only curious to know more about you, your background, how did a woman as beautiful as you, become a coven leader, with such powerful gifts,” he said.

“I could say the same, you look very young, how old were you?” you asked him.

“Ladies first,” he smirked. Looking into his eyes with a straight face, you searched for deception, any reason to not trust him, but you could find none. His body language was completely defenseless and open to you. Sighing, you opened your mouth, starting from the beginning, you shared your story with him.

From the windows, you could feel the eyes of your coven members. Lowering to the ground, with Armand, you held on comfortably, as the two of you continued talking.

The coven couldn’t deny how different you already seemed. This was the most they’d ever seen you speak, occasionally laughing at whatever the man had said. The sun would be out in less than an hour and here you stood out in the open, with the mysterious man.

“You should go, the sun will be out soon, and my coven, they are watching us”

“Intensely,” he agreed, making you snicker.

“You look so beautiful when you smile,” he continued, watching as you bit down on your lip.

“I have to go,” you said. Turning to leave, he reached for your hand, stopping you. Pulling the card from his pocket, he slipped it into your fingers.

“Come to the theatre, you and your coven,” he smiled.

“Sleep well, Armand,” you told him, walking away. You could feel the wind blow, as he flew into the sky.

Entering the house, your mood changed, seeing your coven shift their eyes from you. You knew it was out of respect, but you saw them as equals, and this was growing tiring.

“If any of you are up for it, we have been invited to Théâtre des Vampires, I’ll be going tomorrow,” you told them.

“And if you expect to blend in, then there will be no bowing or titles, we are going to enjoy ourselves, save your worship,” you said, turning to go upstairs.

“My lord,” you heard, as you were about to enter your bedroom.

“Yes,” you turned, facing Marianne.

“He’s your soulmate, isn't he?” she asked, a small smile, on her face.

“I’m afraid so,” you said lowly.

“Give him a chance, you deserve to be adorned with love and kisses. Just looking at him, I’m sure your heart flutters tremendously,” she said.

“Is that how you feel about Alexander?”

“From the moment I looked into his eyes, I fell in love, and it hasn't faltered since then, please, you deserve this,” she said, for the first time, meeting your eyes differently. Not as a devout worshipper, but a friend.

“Get some rest, Marianne,” you smiled at her, turning to leave her, going into your room.

“She’s right, you know,” Cassia spoke, as soon as the door shut.

“I thought you were done for the night,” you told her, as you removed your clothing, changing into your pajamas.

“I will be leaving you soon,” she smiled, looking down at her hands, two wedding rings decorated her finger.

“Giving me another break?”

“For good,” she said, as you snapped your head her way.

“What do you mean?”

“You have found your soulmate, you may not see it now, but Armand is persistent, and he loves hard. You will give in to his love, and finally, this void within you will be filled. Meaning, my work is done,” she smiled, a bloody tear dropping from her eye.

“Where will you go?”

“I am damned, so I would assume hell, not that it matters,” she laughed, bitterly.

“You don't have to do that, you can stay-

You began to protest, coming up with possibilities, while she stood, shaking her head. Approaching you, you began to cry quietly. You held a resentment towards her, yet you couldn't deny how much she meant to you, at this moment.

“You don't have to go,” you whispered.

“I may be damned, but I’ve done well with you, my greatest creation, my love, my angel — you make the dark gift shine beautifully in the night. You will always be the best thing that happened to me. All I ask is that you live, and continue to flourish, no matter what. No more dungeons, starving yourself, isolating from the world, do you understand?” she asked, smiling sadly, as you nodded.

“Yes,” you managed to speak.

“As much as I’d love to savor your lips, I will save them for your soulmate. Even when I’m not here anymore, I will live on through you. My blood flows in you, leaving a small piece of me with you, for an eternity. Goodbye, my sweet y/n,” she said, slowly fading. As she completely disappeared, you noticed the teardrop blood stain, right where she stood. Proof that she hadn't been part of your imagination, but actually with you, throughout the years.

Opening your coffin, your mind shifted between Armand and Cassia. Love. You still didn't what it was, but perhaps he could be the one to show you — with Cassia gone, what did you truly have to lose?

“We're trying to assimilate and these pricks are blatantly doing this, acting like it's a play,” you could hear Demetrius grumble, as you all sat, attempting to watch the play. The play that you all quickly realized, was one, terrible, and two, their way of killing humans in front of other humans.

“Exactly, but these mortals are just as pathetic because they find it scary,” Jonah laughed, as the curtain closed. The young girl could still be heard screaming, her voice growing faint.

“I see him,” Marianne bumped your shoulder, making you look over. He sat in a booth, facing you, and as soon as you met his eyes, he smiled. You almost returned the gesture, but instead, you kept a straight face, making his face falter for a moment.

Turning back towards the stage, you listened to Jonah, Demetrius, and Alexander go on about how terrible the play was, going as far as making jokes about the actors. You could feel his gaze, but you ignored it, watching as humans began to leave the theater.

“That was almost two hours of my life wasted,” Alexander whined to Marianne.

“Look who decided to show his face,” the familiar man spat, standing in front of you all, his eyes on Alexander.

“He doesn't want any problems with you,” you told him, as his eyes sharply shifted to you.

“Their dear coven leader, you have all of them afraid of you, but perhaps it's because you haven't met your equal, or someone stronger,” he hissed at you, as you stood up.

“Is that supposed to be you?” you tilted your head, fire sparking from your fingers.

“Enough, Santiago,” Armand spoke up. The man rolled his eyes, but obeyed his orders, backing away from you. The action seemed to catch the attention of all of his coven members, as they stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfold.

“Y/n is my soulmate, disrespect to her is disrespect to me, and it will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?” he raised his voice, and many of the members nodded in agreement. Santiago remained quiet when Armand grabbed him, choking him.

“Do you understand, Santiago?” he asked him, watching him struggle to nod, muttering an embarrassed, “Yes”.

“Good,” he shoved him away, his eyes moving to you.

“Come,” he held out his hand to you, watching as you slowly accepted it.

Looking down at your hands, his fingers intertwined with your own, you looked back at your coven. They smiled excitedly, Jonah giving you a thumbs up.

“I was surprised you came, what did you think of the play?”

“It was awful, but in a good way, I guess. I enjoyed the ending,” you said, laughing at his surprised expression.

“At least you're honest,” he sighed, his thumb brushing against your hand.

“I thought of you throughout the night, I hoped that you would show up,” he admitted, as he led you in the direction of the park.

“Yeah”

“All I wanted was to see your beautiful face again or smell your scent. I’ve never met any-

“Armand, this is difficult for me. I haven't experienced this kind of passion, for over half of my vampiric life. I didn't know how to love, or what it even means to,” you told him, but he only shook his head.

“Do you feel the same way, when you look at me? As if time stops, the compelling force to do or be anything your soulmate wants, as long as they will have you. The elation of just looking at your soulmate, because they look nothing but perfect in your eyes, do you feel this way too?” he asked, relief when you hesitantly nodded.

Pulling you closer, his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes. He seemed a bit hesitant, making you think of Cassia and Marianne. Their words replayed in your mind, you thought of the same saying from the previous night, what did you truly have to lose?

Standing on your toes, your lips pressed against his own, immediately, his arms were around your waist. Moaning into the kiss, you could feel the almost static connection between the two of you, just as your skin touched for a kiss.

“I-I want this, but I’m not ready,” you told him, feeling guilty, as you pulled away.

“There is no rush, as long as you remain close, we can take as much time as you need,” he said, holding your hand, and placing a kiss on it.

“And our covens?”

“They will learn to coexist, or they are free to leave,” he shrugged.

“I think we should get back, and maybe share this information with them,” you said.

“Anything you say,” Amrnand said, holding your hand, as he led you back to the theatre.

On your back way, you passed through the market, a young girl catching for attention. She stood next to a tent, holding a sign, in front of a crate of apples.

“Would you like an apple, mademoiselle?” she asked, reminding you of Cassia.

“I-no thank you,” you smiled, before looked back at you in confusion.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes, we should hurry back,” you said to him, as he continued walking, pulling you close, leading you back the the theatre.

An eternity, you had an eternity with your soulmate. You could see now, that you would enjoy his company, he was protective, considerate, and kind. An eternity of being with Armand, perhaps then you would could finally begin to learn what it meant, to be loved.

i had to end it here bc y'all know i would go on and on 😂

[the-raindeer-king]

SELKIE👏SOAP👏 big brain stuff. Don't get me wrong, the Dullahan is my favorite of all mythological creature. I have a whole figurine a foot tall of one on my shelf. But Selkie Soap hits so hard. He'd so be the type to leave his coat out at your house all the time after dating and knowing you're his person. 'Oh, whoops Soap left his weirdly heavy and thick coat here again', 'Oh look, he's calling asking if you can bring him his coat' after a while he gives up and just throws it on you tbh. Let him be yours, damnit!

If selkies are always cold without the pelt, I wonder how important warmth is so Soap. You cuddled up and comment how warm he is, or how warm and cozy it is under the blanket(and pelt cause ofc) with you? Absolute heart eyes. You probably just said the equivalent of something so serious and loving and he's fawning

Big brain shit

AND BEAR SHIFTER PRICE the rumbles the RUMBLESSS takes 'bear hug' to a whole new meaning. Yes he adds honey to his tea, he will bite if you comment on it (if you're not one of the very few he really trusts and cares for that is. If it's say, his wonderful partner, they'll get smothered with a kiss an' a cuddle and maybe a nip at most. Gotta take care of his lil' love after all.) Supreme den to sleep in. Dark room, probably painted like a dark brown or something so it's really dark dark once the sun goes down. California King size bed, so many blankets, heavy ones he can shift around into certain ways. Pillows everywhere, AC cranked LOW low so he can cuddle his sweet partner so so close without them overheating, leaving them clinging to him in their sleep bc he's so warm. Probably loves smelling your scent, and scenting you so others smell him and know to leave you be

ELDRITCH GHOST THO!

He's always there. Haunting those he hunts and those he loves and it's such a rare thing to be so vehemently focused on tbh. As his enemy, it's an endless looking sense. The dark is too dark in certain spaces but not all of them. The quiet is too quiet when they step into a specific spot but take two steps away and they can hear their brain thinking again. On the flip side, you never feel like you're alone. There's always something right around the corner, right behind you that you can't see. Yes, Ghost is there physically, and his body almost feels like there's soft layers and hollow inside. But when hes not there, it's like he is still. A drink on the counter when you wake, a towel on the sink when you shower, the blankets moving and being tucked around you as you settle to sleep, even if you not moving, especially when it's dark.

And 100% I don't see Gaz as a harpy. I think you're on with a Naga though. Notoriously hard to kill (as we've seen with all the shit Gaz gets into (cough cough, helicopter, cough cough)) ruthless on the job but Amicable unless disrespected off the job (usually used as guards in mythology) and I'd go a step farther and say I could see him as either a Boomslang(one of the 10 fastest snakes, cause Gaz isn't super bulky but he's light and quick and snaps to where he needs to go yk?) also a beautiful black/green combo and slimmer species that I feel would fit him well, highly venomous and hang out in trees, idk if that's fitting just a fun fact.

Oooh just imagine going to pick him up after a rough mission. He's still on guard, alert, serious, and once he sees you he's snapping to you, already holding you close, the midsection of his tail winding up to press against the back of your legs, pressing you closer. Mumbling quiet words with a light hiss to them as he draws you in, seeping up your warmth. He's a cold blooded creature, can't you help him warm back up? 🥺

Anon, you and I are on the same wavelength and I love you (platonic).

[coffeegnomee]

Bacon saying "yes. [I watched] the entire thing" about having seen Kab's new video "I watched it for entertainment purposes, but I also think I took some things from it as well"

KAB: "fair enough, I put things in there knowing people would watch it and take things from it"

she brings up how Clown never offered her a team, and that she is close to getting his full trust. Which I think is a lie rooted in the truth that she was so "my son could never hurt a fly he's just misunderstood" in the video to get Clown to trust her more irl/in lifesteal. Like how he trusts Branzy and Ferre.

(even though it is SO WEIRD for her to have been like that about Clown in the video. Like it was an exposé about how right the Mice were to be cautious about her affiliation and assume she was telling him things. She was. Maybe not base coords, but she just leaked that she absolutely told him things about them and that she was not for the team at all. And she left that all in. why? WHY Kab? I can only assume it was to endear her to Clown more? That's the only thing that makes sense? Unless she did it to "prove" to the Mice that they were wrong to assume she was teamed with Clown, "see I was just telling him to be careful and you guys were making him into a villain" or smth. I genuinely don't know. I don't understand her at all.)

But she's bringing it up to Bacon and downplaying it so that he thinks she isn't as close to Clown as she is. She's trying to manipulate him here I think.

then Bacon brings up the google doc of Mapicc's personality, which apparently Mapicc dmed her about (which is hilarious for the record)

To which she says it wasn't real [the doc itself], she made it for the video. She only articulated Mapicc's personality and Mapicc's alone.. which obviously means it was him very much on purpose. So did she do it to stoke Mapicc's ego? Or to see what he would say about it and confirm or deny if she was right? I can so easily imagine her writing it up being like, now Mapicc will think I understand him but this is not really what I think about him and he will be easier to manipulate.

But the analysis, like I wrote about, was right for the wrong reasons, AND YET I saw how they were rooted in very plausible assumptions she would have made bc of talking to Ash.

So I struggle to see how that writeup wasn't what she genuinely thought. This whole video just feels like exactly what she genuinely thought throughout the whole first week.

And it's completely rooted in the concept that she knows what she's talking about, even though her only evidence is that she can read Clown. (the only other moment being that she was right the empire would betray them in the End. Which was the softest of softball throws. It was an allyship against the other team. Obv the beef starts up the second that is over.) Like congrats. You've known Clown for two years very closely. It would be weird if you didn't. And on THAT note,

She called Woogie a dipshit for having his own opinions about Clown based on his interactions with him for the past FIVE whole seasons. THREE YEARS.

She took his words as saying that you shouldn't trust Clown instead of what he was really trying to say, which was we as a team should not trust Clown. Kab knows Clown won't kill her but she just fails to understand that other people have their own valid experiences of the members. She's just so focused on her singular view of people and how they will interact with her that she completely misses the opportunity to learn what other people think of other people without it being an attack on her own opinion.

I know I get on here and analyze everyone to death. I know that that's how I love to watch and enjoy lifesteal. And that not everyone observes the lifestealers like bugs to be pinned down and dissected. Watching vods is a listening-only experience. I cannot talk or add to the convo, right?

But it still boggles my mind that she doesn't see the manipulative value in silently listening to every word that comes out of someone's mouth in order to learn what they think about others. And let that tell you what to think about others.

If she just listened to what people said, especially what they say about people she doesn't understand, she would learn SO much.

Like she completely called Woogie an idiot for wanting to ally with the Empire for the purpose of killing Clown Mane and Flame.

And she said it because she doesn't understand how Mapicc and Spoke think.

And because she doesn't understand them, she thinks Woogie doesn't understand them.

Like I know Woogie isn't always the most active and integrated member, and he's also an unreliable narrator and has assumptions rooted in a subjective path just like she does.

But Woogie AND Mapicc AND Spoke have all been playing on this server since Season ONE. You would think that that would be an excellent learning opportunity to ask Woogie how he views Mapicc and Spoke.

And then from there, sure! Take it with a grain of salt. Take your personal experiences with them as the most important opinion to value for your own safety (bc nobody can tell you what your gut says) but then also take their opinion and use it against them if you want to be such a great manipulator. Or at the very least catalogue their opinion away for further study at a future time.

It's just. She just has her assumptions about herself towards every member and completely and totally discounts what anyone has to say about their assumptions of themselves with other members. And she gets so damn triggered by people saying they have more experience than her, thinking it's a personal attack on her intelligence. Where that comes from I cannot know but that sounds incredibly deeply rooted.

So back to the Bacon conversation.

She said she knew people would watch it and said stuff on purpose.

And yet she completely left in the whole scene about lying to Woogie about being sorry for discounting his opinion. “Sometimes you need to be sopping wet for people to trust you chat”

Everyone on lifesteal is going to watch this video. WOOGIE might watch this video (though I have a feeling he won't tbh) and you're just leaving in that when you apologize you are never sincere about it and are 100% using that to manipulate them later.

INSANE to leave that in. You leave that in the drawing board. You keep that shit hidden. ESPECIALLY if you know your enemies will watch it. Girl was the most open book ever.

And then to end the video saying I'm a liar and manipulator bitch I know what I'm talking about. Insane. You are just BROADCASTING that you should never be trusted ever. (for the second video in a row!)

Also in a video about you desperately trying to prove that you should be trusted. It's two different kinds of trust, funny that we use the same word for both.

Trusted in that you tell the truth vs trusted that you know what you're talking about.

I am so interested to know what Bacon thought of that. What will he think if she does apologize now? He's not dumb. He saw the video.

She just thinks she's playing 4D chess. And yet 4D chess would be being silent and listening to what everyone says. Like how Spokes does. and Clown. No talking, just silently listening in vc's and coming to conclusions about the members.

And Bacon too. He's been asking people so many questions about what they're doing and why and then just listening to what they have to say, and then forming his own conclusion about it and going off to try something. He's becoming great at listening and thinking and this whole little arc was founded on using that information to do something interesting on the server.

Though I suppose he wasn't always that good at it. And therefore the final conclusion you can take is the same every time: Kab needs experience in order to gain experience. And it will be a long and painful process.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We are heading into a bit of a quieter period for QL corner, with two shows ending now and another next week. At least we still have a true banger airing to sustain us through the drought. Smells Like Green Spirit is also now airing in Japan but has not yet been picked up for international distribution (pray for it to get to us soon). These shows are available for weekly streaming on Gaga unless otherwise noted.

Happy of the End

CWs: Blood and gore, child abandonment, child molestation, childhood sexual slavery, death, family rejection, heavy scarring, human trafficking, rape, sexual coercion and exploitation, suicidal ideation, suicide mention

This week was relatively lighter compared to last week's very rough episodes, but still so laced with sadness even in its happy moments. Haoren mourned his mother, and finally admitted to himself, and to Chihiro, that she was never protecting him. The show dug deeper into how this bond between them is giving them both a reason to shake off their apathy about survival, though that is definitely touch and go for both of them. The way Haoren experienced a few moments of happiness and immediately jumped to the conclusion that he would like to die now because he'll never top this feeling was telling, as was Chihiro casually laying down in the street and not moving until Haoren dragged him away. They don't have any real hope for a better life, but they each seem more invested in the other's survival than their own, and that is giving them something to cling to. It was nice to see them have some moments of trust and connection between them, and for Haoren to finally feel safe enough to strip himself bare, physically and emotionally. I'm bracing for a rough final week, with Haoren's former enslaver coming after Chihiro in a bid to destroy the source of Haoren's new happiness. I don't really know what to hope for in terms of an ending for these characters; I just hope the show can leave us with the sense that their relationship mattered and gave them something they can each hold onto.

Love is Like a Poison

This episode had me screaming with laughter and delight. Haruto can read his Ryo-kun like a book, and Shiba can't seem to figure out which way is up. I don't even want to describe all the hilarious gags and sexy tension and extremely unsubtle metaphors in this episode; I don't want to ruin it for anyone. Go watch!

Chaser Game W 2

Of all the great JQL we've gotten in the last year, why this one got picked up for a second season I could not tell you. I was less than impressed with season 1, and I don't have high hopes this next go round will be any better. Especially after watching the first ep of this new season, in which they unceremoniously undid the ending of the last in a laughably silly way only to introduce a new, more annoying conflict. They could have made something of a story about Fuyu trying to work out a way to manage her family life to be with Itsuki, but they'd rather hand wave that away via gay penguins in favor of a new love triangle. Whatever, show. Here we go again, I guess! I’ll be watching this one mostly to support the ratings.

Tagging @bengiyo to do our last anime update for the next little while, as Twilight Out of Focus has officially ended its run and there is no new animated ql on the horizon.

[belladonnadawn]

Point Of No Return

After finding out about your infidelity, Xanthus hatched a plan to make sure that you will not do such thing again. Xanthus x Reader Content Warning: Mentions of torture and violence. (I don't know if I should put yandere since he's just like that apparently.)

Xanthus is inconsolable. After the revelation of your affair came to him, he was left bewildered. You tricked him, you deceived him, you took him for a fool. He knew that the signs were there, but he disregarded it, thinking that his trust in you is bigger than those doubts– a regret that he'll always hate himself for.

A part of him is in disbelief that you managed to cheat on him. He wondered how long this has been going on. Days? Weeks? Months? Either way, the fact that you managed to conceal it was impressive– especially when both of you are tethered by the bond.

He watched as you kissed him goodbye. The kiss lasted too long for his liking. Betrayal swelled in his heart. Xanthus observed you, wanting to know if you feel what he's feeling. Then, you paused. His eyes widened slightly, maybe you will come around. But instead you gave him another kiss before parting.

His fist was clenched tight as he witnessed it. It felt like an insult– a blatant display of mockery. The urge to confront you and let all his burdens out was strong, but he resisted. He's better than that. A cheap confrontation does not cut it. He knew he needed to do more. Something that will assure him that you won't commit this sin anymore for as long as he lives.

Xanthus was known for his swiftness and precision in battlefield and in confrontation. After all, he was a warrior before he was a vampire. The skills that he had were honed by centuries of experience.

He witnessed war, famine, and destruction in his own eyes. But seeing you with that man opened a new kind of pain in his heart. Despite anger and betrayal dominating him, he knew that he can't hide the fact that witnessing your adultery broke something in him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your voice drifted him away from his thoughts. “You seem preoccupied,” Sitting beside him, you can almost feel the tension. You don't have to ask why, since you felt like you already know the answer.

Xanthus gave you a weak smile, “Nothing, I've just been exhausted.” He held his card close, not wanting to let you in. Today is not the day where he should reveal his cards. He has a lesson prepared for you and he'll make sure it is something that you won't forget.

You were beyond anxious when Sam stopped answering your calls. He wasn't in his apartment, his office, or a friend's. Searching far and wide, there are no traces of him. You tried to calm yourself down to minimize Xanthus’ suspicion, but it was ineffective.

“What's wrong? Your heart seems to beat out of your chest.” Xanthus pulled you close, “Did something bad happen? I can feel how restless and nervous you are.”

Closing your eyes, you relished in his comfort despite the situation. “I was just thinking about my loved ones in my hometown,” You stated giving a small hint of truth.

He nodded understandingly, “Ah, yes. The fear of the unknown. Do you want to talk to them? I can accompany you.” A sweet smile plastered on his face. Instead of feeling comforted, your anxiety spiked higher.

You shook your head, “Thank you, Xanthus. But I'm fine.” A small smile flashed in your lips as he kissed your forehead.

He is comforting, like a warm blanket on a rainy day. A hint of guilt crept in; you tried to bury it, but before you could a subtle hint of satisfaction filled you. It was strange, but welcome.

“I can appease your mind,” He caressed your cheeks.

“Really?”

“Yes, you should know by now that I'll do anything for you.” He presented his hand out, “Let me guide you, my love.” Warmth spread on your cheeks as you gently took it.

You watched as he gently guided you deeper in his mansion. As you went deeper, you felt his eagerness and excitement. Curiosity filled you as you both halted in front of a door.

Your heart dropped as Xanthus opened the door. No one could've prepared you for what lies ahead.

You felt suffocated as your eyes landed on him. His arms chained to the wall, feet barely standing up, and his face almost unrecognizable. If it wasn't for the subtle rise on his chest, you'd believe that he's dead.

You finally found Sam.

Xanthus stood beside you, “You don't have to search for him. Did I appease you?” He tilted his head, almost wearing a grin.

It felt as if the ground was going to swallow you whole. A mix of shame, shock, and fear coursed through your body. Your secret spilled with a big mess, everything that you did to cover it up broke down.

“Xanthus…” You turned to him, face filled with horror. “I wasn't– it wasn't supposed to end like this.” Your voice falters as he gazed at you with an unreadable expression. But you don't have to know what he feels, you can feel it yourself. The burning and ever consuming rage consumed you too.

“How is this supposed to end?”

“I…” Words die before they can formulate. You weren't prepared for a confrontation, let alone when your affair partner is chained up with your lover's wall. All you know in this situation is lying will dig your grave deeper.

“It was just supposed to be a one time thing–”

“But?” He tilted his head, held back tension evident in his face. “Was he that good?”

His question made you flinch. You bit the inside of your cheek, “He's… enough.”

You spoke the truth. The more you think about it, the more unclear why you got caught up in this affair. Maybe it's the thrill? Maybe it was the normalcy that he brought? After all, being with a vampire is different from being with a human.

“For how long?”

“Four days.”

Xanthus nodded, satisfied at your answer. “I have had him for two days now. Maybe I can let him escape after two more days.” He hummed. “If he can make it out after tomorrow.”

You grimaced at the thought, immensely apologetic on Sam's situation. Sending a man to a grave for lustful nights is something that you never expected to happen.

“Do you want to know what I did?”

Before you could answer, he interjected.

“I took his nails off one by one, bust his kneecaps, broke his fingers, removed some of his teeth–”

“Stop. Please, stop.”

He spoke with such nonchalance, as if recalling his grocery list. It was sick. You feel sick.

Xanthus walked towards you, tilting your head so you can look him in the eyes. “I held back for you. Don't you know that? Even in my rage, I thought about what you would feel. I am considerate towards you. Did you even gave me the same grace?”

You tried to back away, but he only pulled you close. His presence is domineering– overwhelming. Xanthus is inescapable, and you're a fool to try and do so.

“You and I are bonded, until I die– until you die. I don't want any imbeciles trying to take my place. This is the last time that this will happen, understand?”

Leaving you no choice, you nodded. His words engraved in your mind noting the thinly veiled threat. The thought of spending your night with someone other than him now feels unimaginable.

You close your eyes, promising to fully give yourself to him. A devotion and a prayer to avoid such tragedy again. After all, he always has a history to back it up.

Divider: Cafekitsune

[prapaiwife]

"Thank you for waking me up from my nightmare"

"It's my duty as your lover"

After reading @secriden post here about how prapai takes "it's okay" and doesn't say it to say it! but as he says he shows sky with his actions. It reminds me of every time i watch episode 13 and I get to the ending scene here when sky tells prapai thank you for waking me up from my nightmare listen that THAT is so emotional, it leaves you honestly so misty-eyed cause sky is truly saying he is able to finally begin to rest. Something he hasn't been able to for a very long time. This has been a reoccurring nightmare for him and early on in the story you can see sky accept it for what it was.That this was his life now that he's going to have to just have these sleepless nights he's never going to rest. He's gonna comfort himself and tell himself it's okay though he doesn't believe it for a second.

Sky doesn't rest and so as a domino effect when u don't rest u don't stay healthy. We see sky neglecting himself he doesn't eat or often forgets to. It's so bad that he drives himself to be sick. And He's forced to actually not work and rest or atleast attempt to. Cause when he's sick the nightmares dont go away till pai stays with him that night and day. Holding his hand not leaving his side.

Sky has accepted that love is not for him as I said before it's a trigger for him just a clear threat in plain sight. And so he's accepted that he's not going to think for a second waste any thought or time that he's even actually worth of thinking that someone will actually be serious about him. Let alone believing that someone will find him endearing and cute and just wants to dote on him constantly. Not when sky doesn't believe it himself he doesn't think he's anything special handsome beautiful.

But meeting Pai and sky truly seeing what he deserves!! Seeing love truly in its most selfless and most beautiful ways while also being reciprocated! Pai didn't fix him as people like to say but he gave sky that second chance of hope just a simple try. Try to open your heart to me, try to see me as not someone who's going to hurt you, try to allow yourself to trust yourself and your feelings. And sky felt feelings as we saw that he tried to deny and play it off and tell himself constantly it's nothing it won't be anything prapai is the last person on earth to be ever serious about anyone. With all the while we saw how he likes how pai has been cheesy with him very consistent with how he's been showing up. He shows up even on the days when sky doesn't think he will hence when he's sick at the freshman orientation project. But he does even when prapai physically isn't there just with the simple lunch, dinners on his doorknob as a reminder for him to eat. I think it's so beautiful that sky is able to finally say that he can rest and allow himself to begin the healing process.

With a partner who has the utmost respect for him. Whoever loves him more than anything in the world and would do anything for him. Prapai is constantly overwhelmed with his love for sky it's so endearing. He tells him how his smile and hugs makes his day. Sky could now go to sleep with the man he loves and wake up with the man he loves in his arms. Even simply just laying in bed with him and his heart will immediately just felt like ease in this safeness. He doesn't have to second guess it cuz he's confident in his relationship and the love they have for each other. The nightmares have taken so much of his life. It's time for him to fully rest and embrace this calmness and warmth that he thought he would never feel from anyone is so touching you really think about when he says that to him.

Prapai saying it's his duty! As in it's his absolute honor to take care of him he doesn't see this as a burden or an inconvenience or hindrance. What sky went through won't just go away and they know that. But prapai has put in the work and will continue to make that commitment to them. They will continue together to grow together while building their relationship.🥺

[the-adventures-of-dave]

Can I ask why you feel conflicted about cream smoke bengal? Does the color impact their health?

Short answer: Genetically, the cream smoke colour is perfectly healthy and there's nothing wrong with it. Purely an aesthetic thing.

Pretentious answer: Cream (and smoke) is not in the bengal breed standard, and personally I think it is kind of antithetical to what the breed is about. Bengals are supposed to look and act like tiny wild cats, and orange/cream and smoke wild cats just... don't exist. It's kind of neat to see colours like that, but in my own personal opinion I don't really think it's in the spirit of the breed.

Long answer: Because orange/cream isn't in the bengal breed standard, and isn't recessive (ie. it needs to be purposely bred), this means that any breeder that breeds these colours are acting against breed standard in the name of aesthetics. This means that:

They might favour colour/appearance over conformation and health;

They aren't able to show their cats like a reputable breeder; and

Reputable breeders are less likely to want to interact with them, sell or breed their cats with them, etc.

All this combined means cats with these "off standard" colours are more likely to have health and temperament problems and come from poor stock. While cat fancy isn't the be-all end-all, I would be reluctant to trust a breeder that breeds off-standard animals.

For reference of anyone arriving late, this is the post we're referring to.

[creatingblackcharacters]

I really wish non-black people would stop making their ONE black character's story revolve around slavery.

Yes, this also includes the very popular "reverse slavery" trope where a black character is a slaver and a non-black character is the victim. Trust me when I tell you: it stopped being ground-breaking after the 10th time, it's executed poorly 80% of the time and it just feels like you're role playing oppression for escapist purposes.

I think it is highly offensive to always go back to this when we as black people keep being told to "stop living in the past and move on", sometimes by people who'll bring the subject of slavery out of nowhere as gotcha when we talk about modern-day racist occurrences.

Hi, on this blog I ask that we as Black people capitalize the B! Tbh, I've actually never seen it outright as a Black person "reverse enslaving" a white person, probably because it'd seem too on the nose. It's usually been either an ambiguously brown "race", a coded group of color, or nonblack people of color (like apparently in BG3 Astarion is enslaved by an Asian vampire. I haven't gotten that far yet.)

But yes, it's... it's why so many of those fantasy racism stories fall flat; they don't actually capture just how systemic, mundane, and chronic racism actually is. It shows a need to say "I understand this experience" without showing the actual understanding. Without putting on my political hat too hard at the moment, there's this... Fear that many white people have that what they have done to others will return unto them. They fear the retaliation of the very harm they have done, while simultaneously denying that it's "that bad" and "can be gotten over". (Meanwhile most of us just want to be left alone)

I once had a coworker say "I don't get why everyone's so mad. It's not like you're slaves anymore." And it like... Hit me that she felt that a very basic ass, baseline human right was apparently the sign that everything was "okay" between "Blacks and whites". So... 😬 Yeah I hear you.

[fras-redacted-shapes]

Early drafts/unused content in other languages

redditor AloysHellsalem posted about certain text strings that exist in localized files but are missing from English ones. So I took a look at the Spanish string table and tried translating them - these are machine translations, so they are bad and also funny (sometimes).

All of these seem to be some sort of very, very early draft given the number at the end of the speaker's name and because they don't even have corresponding text-to-speech files unlike files from demos/proof of concept.

More of a fun thing than anything else.

Most of them are from Saga's side of the story.

AMBIENT DIALOGUE - RETURN 2

CASEY_4585: I found more of those knit ornaments near [Witch’s] Ladle. The cult has been around here. SAGA_4586: Do you think they’re the ones behind all this? Dead people coming back to life certainly sounds like cult material. CASEY_4587: It feels like they’re connected. We need more evidence. CASEY_4588: Do you really think a ritual will do something? SAGA_4589: My rational brain says no, but maybe it’s time I leave it on the backseat. CASEY_4590: I’ve certainly had cases that made sanity look like a sick joke. SAGA_4591: I can’t believe you knew what Ikea was. CASEY_4592: What? A guy like me can’t have affordable furniture?

Original text:

PROFILING CASEY - RETURN 6

SAGA_4984: What’s happening to Casey? CASEY_4985: I can’t turn into one of them. I won’t. Fuck it. I’ll go to hell before I turn into one of those soulless demons. CASEY_4986: Well, I guess that’s literally what they are: demons.

That last sentence may be a weird translation on my part. I'm not sure how to make it make sense.

Original text:

Leaving the full string here, Saga profiling Casey about him feeling like a fictional character?:

MP_RE06_CASEY_FICTIONAL_SAGA_4987: being a fictional character. MP_RE06_CASEY_FICTIONAL_CASEY_4988: Was I even who I thought I was, or just an average detective torn from the pages of a bunch of mediocre crime novels? Did I exist in printing ink like I did in real life?, and vice versa? The thought always bothered me. The jokes. The similarities. The constant feeling that no amount of coffee could drown.

Original text:

There're lines that look like bullet points or just rough ideas, like the last one here:

SAGA_6910: What’s happening to Casey? CASEY_6911: Casey is turning into a taken, blame Alan Wake for it WAKE_SAGA_6912: Wake WAKE_CASEY_6913: Casey never liked Wake, even before all this. References to cult case in New York

Original text:

PROFILING ESTEVEZ RETURN 6

This looks like a very early draft of Kiran having a girl crush deputizing Saga into the FBC.

SAGA_4989: The FBC. ESTEVEZ_4990: Saga Anderson, she’d be a great FBC agent. She clearly has what it takes: wit, guts and drive. And she’s not backing down from a paranatural fight. I can appreciate that. ESTEVEZ_4991: I should give her the recruitment (draft?) pitch. She’d be a great asset. SAGA_4992: I guess I should be flattered.

Original text:

SAGA_4993: What’s this “AWE”? ESTEVEZ_4994: What reactivated the AWE in Bright Falls? Does the threshold below the lake work in cycles or does it have a trigger? ESTEVEZ_4995: Whatever it is, it seemed more powerful than ever. SAGA_4996: The “threshold” in Cauldron Lake. That’s where I have to go.

Original text:

The following one is nearly incomprehensible

SAGA_6914: Parautilitarians ESTEVEZ_6915: Estevez relives a trauma, says the area of parautilitarians susceptible to supernatural forces (???)

SAGA_6916: doesn’t wake up ESTEVEZ_6917: They told Estevez the Dark Presence can steal forms, making it difficult to know who to trust SAGA_6918: Dark Place ESTEVEZ_6919: Estevez doesn’t know much, other than those who go there generally don’t come back.

PROFILING TOR AND ODIN - RETURN 5

Lots of fun tidbits

SAGA_3003: Where is Tor? TOR_3004:... Polaris ... in a web of hypocrisy. ODIN_3005: Take ... Control. duh duh duhuhuh. Take ... Control ... TOR_3006: Take ... Control. duh duh duhuhuh. Take ... Control …

SAGA_3012: The girl in the painting. ODIN_3013: I won’t remove it. That’s our family. Your (his?) daughter. TOR_3014: She left us! She took Saga and fucked off! So take that damn thing! I don’t wanna see her face!

MP_RE05_TOR_MOTHER_SAGA_3069: My mother. TOR_3070: But I wasn’t made to be a dad. I’m a god of rock! I can take the sky, rock stadiums but can’t change a diaper! TOR_3071: My life is a fucking storm. Freya deserved better. TOR_3072: It broke my heart, but I was proud of her for leaving. She could take care of herself. And her little girl. Saga will be a fucking star. I saw it the day she was born.

SAGA_3074: My dad. TOR_3075: …If she goes with you, she can never come back! It’s a one way trip for her. And I’m not letting a punk take me (?)! UNKNOWN_3076: (STATIC) TOR_3077: Freya isn’t ready for a nursing home. We kept it hidden for a reason! If you try this, I’ll hit you so hard with my hammer there won’t be any door left to open!

PROFILING TOR AND ODIN - RETURN 9

Now, these are super interesting :)

SAGA_5287: Mr. Door. TOR_5288: Freya couldn’t trust that bastard! He wouldn’t have stayed anyways! It’s not in his nature! We had to go! ROSE_5289: Tor, you’re scaring the other residents. I need you to put down that hammer. TOR_5290: A father needs to protect his kids, dammit! The door is a fucking spider and I’ll be damned if I was going to let my little girl get caught on its fucking web.

MP_RE09_ODIN_01_DOOR_SAGA_5293: Mr Door. ODIN_5294: I just can’t let you play with her heart. It’s nothing personal. DOOR_5295: Do you realize Freya will never forgive either of you for this? ODIN_5296: You’re not wrong, but… neither is my brother. Today you’re here, you’re Martin’s door, but eventually you’ll leave it behind and she won’t know why. Better she hate us than she hates herself. DOOR_5297: Then let’s see what you and your drunk brother can do.

Weird translation that last one.

The text for "I can't let you play with her heart" can be translated more literally to "I simply can't make you play with her heart." Which doesn't make sense, at least not without more context.

The line about Martin was probably meant to say "You're Martin Door".

There're a few other tidbits but none as interesting (in my opinion) as these ones.

[gilverrwrites]

Have we discussed Roman’s separated wife hooking up with Bruce Wayne? You and Bruce have always been cordial, so when Roman doxxes you, Bruce lets you stay at the Manor and cry on his shoulder until the wine bottle is empty. He’s so nice and his hand is so warm on your cheek and oh Lord, it’s bigger than your face and you can’t remember the last time you felt safe while a man was touching you. You try to make a move, but Bruce knows he’s overindulged you (partially to get info about Roman but he’ll feel guilty about it later), so he stops you…but promises he’ll be more than ready and willing when you’re in your right mind and decide you still want this. You wait anxiously the entirety of the next day, until Bruce shows up at your door in the sluttiest t-shirt and sweatpants you’ve ever seen, his ginormous hand finding its place on your face again while the other one is slipping under the hem of your shirt.

Slutty top? You've hit a nerve anon, cause now all I'm thinking about is Brucie in a slutty little crop top, like sir put that washboard away before I bite it! Honestly, feral for anyone of any shape and size in a crop top, just show me your belly, please. Yeah, that would work on me.

But to answer your question, no we have not discussed this but we certainly can!!!!

Like, I can say earnestly, when he invited you to stay with him, sleeping with you did not cross his mind; he was purely thinking about;

Helping you get out of a bad situation

Good for the Brucie Wayne image (so long as the press don't get wind of it until you've found somewhere permanent to move too)

(as mentioned) Chance to get info on Black Mask

But the moment you flash that perfectly poised smile, even though you’re clearly on the brink of tears, he's thinking ‘Uh oh. I'm in trouble.’

He never thought much of you while you were with Roman, if maybe a little bit sorry for you. The extent of your relationship was occasional networking with Bruce at events, and Batman peeking through your windows at night to check on you when Roman was at his worst or imprisoned.

It helps that he thought you were pretty.

But now, as he's getting to know you on a personal level, seeing that you're stronger than he'd thought, and smarter. You're letting down walls and actually relaxing, and in his domain at that! It stirs something within him.

And for you, like Roman and Bruce are the same age, from similar backgrounds, similar personas for the public (charming and rich) but it's crazy to see how different they really are.

When you talk, Bruce isn't just waiting for his turn to speak, he listens.

There's no coercion when you set a boundary, he just respects it. Which funnily enough makes you more willing to share. He's just so easy to trust.

When you ask about interesting pieces around his house, he doesn't brag about where it's from and what it costs. Instead, he tells you stories about his parents or his kids interacting with it.

He's funny, and respectful, not at all what you'd expected.

And did you mention handsome? Oh, he's very handsome. That dark hair and those blue eyes. The chiselled jaw and the dimples and he smells good too, you find that out after you bury your nose into his chest while he's carrying you to bed that first night. You're tipsy, and his house is a maze, he's just trying to help and not at all showing off his strength.

The same way he's just dressed so casually the following day when he comes to find you, this is what he always lounges around. He's totally not subtly flexing his glamour muscles as you open the door.

Now, Roman is by no means bad in bed. He's just, shall we say, selfish? He has a set way in life and sex that he expects you to live up to.

Bruce though? He's a giver. He can take, when appropriate, but right now, he knows what you need.

You need those big hands on your waist as he chases you into the bed with his mouth. You need them soothing your tired body, massaging all the stress out of your aching body. You need his thumb to rub circles into your inner thighs while he kisses, and sucks, and laps at your hot, wet sex. You need his long hard fingers pumping into that sweet little hole, again and again until you cum all over them.

And that is just the start.

But you know one other really important thing you need? Some goddamn aftercare.

He knows it straight away, shouldn’t have been surprised. But when your body immediately falls limp after he rolls off of you, when you look at him confused as he asks if you need anything he knows your life has been lacking kindness for so long that you barely even recognise when it's extended to you.

He's not good at the emotional stuff, at comforting words but he reasons that you probably don't need to hear it right now. Don't need to be reminded of your mistakes, of your past.

Instead, he pulls you into him, wrapping his warmth around you like a giant weighted blanket. Holding you until you accept his affection and melt into his arms.

Meanwhile, the False Facers can't breach Bruces security, can't get a good look into the Manor. Which means they don't know what you're doing there. But they know you're there, and that means Roman knows you're there.

And Romans not stupid, you sneaky, no good, selfish whore.

He gave you everything, and this is how you repay him? You nasty little bitch. And with Bruce Wayne of all people?

Don't get comfy, because the moment you step outside those gates, the second you let your walls down, he's going to rock your shit. You're going to pay for all the crap you've put him through, tenfold.

[thedamselzelda]

Don't Wake Me Up

Featuring: Chūya Nakahara

Author Chat: Part One! I feel so bad bc I have left DBH and LBH high and dry bc CHUYA FUCKING NAKAHARA has taken over my brain for the moment. Do not fret, I will return to darling Dazai, but I wanna get this short little three parter done so Chuya can leave me alone. (TBH I have a Chuya plush on the way, so he's never truly gonna leave me alone.)

Will update with main story page eventually, will also update the navigation of my page eventually... hopefully.

wc: 6.7k, sfw, slightly proofread, mild cursing, a little angsty ngl

hope you guys enjoy! Reblog and like if you enjoyed this! <3 DamzelZelda

Chūya Nakahara doesn’t dream. Or at least, he believed that he couldn’t… There was only one time he was truly able to do so, but even now that seemed like a distant memory.

"Ane-san's back! She's back!" 

"Yes, finally!"

Chūya navigated through the dark, winding tunnels of the underground base, guided by the excited voices echoing off the damp stone walls. He rolled his eyes, hearing the unbridled enthusiasm in their tones about your return. The irony wasn't lost on him; you'd be gone just as quickly as you'd arrived, like a fleeting shadow. Not quite a full member of the Sheep, but not an outsider either. Your ambiguous status never sat right with him, though he grudgingly acknowledged that the others trusted you. After all, you were a member before him.

As he approached, the voices hushed to whispers. Chūya's gaze fell upon you, watching as you offered a soft, enigmatic smile to the younger teens. They looked at you with admiration, as if you were some divine being gracing them with your presence. He let out an annoyed sigh, waiting for you to finally acknowledge him.

"Happy to see me, Nakahara?" Your voice carried a hint of amusement, and your attention fluttered up to him. His eyes darted between yours and the younger Sheep among you, feeling a heat arise to his face.

He let out a puff and shifted his weight, crossing his arms as he glared at you with feigned disinterest. "Did you at least come back with something useful?" He ignored your question hoping to provoke some flicker of emotion from you.

Your head cocked to the side, a knowing smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Of course I did. Never disappointed, have I?"

Chūya could only grit his teeth, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance as he turned away. "Let's just hurry up then, that way you can go on about filling their heads with more nonsense."

Your laugh pierced the air, neither harsh nor melodious. To Chūya, it felt mocking, further souring his mood about your return. The sound of your boots clicking on the stone floor followed him as your voice lulled the others away, promising to see them before they succumbed to sleep for the night.

"If you're that envious, I could offer you a taste of what they're so excited about," you teased, your voice grating on Chūya's nerves. He felt your hand on his shoulder, halting his escape through the dim corridor.

Chūya whirled around, feeling the embarrassment rise to his face. "I'm not jealous, alright?" He snapped, hating how defensive he sounded. Despite his irritation, he couldn't bring himself to shake off your touch. Your hand was impossibly soft against his shoulder, its warmth even seeping through his jacket. He tried to ignore the way it made his skin tingle.

He watched your eyes narrow, still maintaining that infuriatingly gentle, calm look you always wore. When you spoke, your words had a teasing lilt that made Chūya's stomach do an uncomfortable flip. "Come on, Chūya. You told me once you think you can't dream. Don't you want to find out if that's really true? I could at least try, you know?"

Chūya's gaze darted between your eyes, searching for any hint of mockery. He didn't hate you, not really, but he'd never admit how much your composed presence affected him. It was unsettling, how you could make him feel so off-balance.

With a dismissive click of his tongue, Chūya shrugged your hand away. "Whatever. We don't have time for this right now, ‘kay? There's actual important stuff to deal with," he muttered, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Ah, yes..." you mused, your tone shifting. Chūya bristled at the hint of disapproval in your voice. "I heard whispers of your little display today. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't actions of that magnitude typically require approval from all council members?"

His eyes narrowed as he watched you glide past him. "You weren't here," he countered. "We took a vote in your absence."

You waved a dismissive hand, your casualness infuriating him further. "I would have voted against it. You’ve put quite a big target on us for attacking a Mori Corp airplane."

Chūya scoffed, trailing behind. His eyes caught glimpses of your neck as your hood slowly slipped off your head, and he quickly averted his gaze, annoyed at himself for noticing. "I was sendin’ a message. We have to show we aren’t to be messed with."

"Now, now, Chūya," you purred, spinning around so suddenly that he nearly collided with you. Your faces were mere inches apart, and he could feel the warmth of your breath as you spoke. "Your time to act would’ve come, but now, we have to act. If you had known the rumors flooding the Port Mafia right now, you’d know the time to move would’ve been any time after yesterday.”

Chūya found himself frozen, caught between the urge to step back and the inexplicable desire to remain close to you. He couldn’t even bring himself to murmur out any questions. The mischievous glint in your eyes left him simultaneously frustrated and intrigued. He hated how easily you could get under his skin, how you always seemed to know more than you let on. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but be drawn to the mystery you presented, even as he tried to deny it.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

Chūya felt his cheeks burn as your eyes bore into him. Why did you have to look at him like that? It was unsettling, the way you seemed to focus solely on him, ignoring the other council members. Even Shirase's attempts to catch your attention with fond glances went unnoticed. It made something twist in his stomach, a feeling he couldn't quite place.

"They'll be distracted for a while," you began, your voice low and confident. Chūya watched, trying to keep his expression neutral as you shifted your weight, placing a hand on your hip. The casual gesture shouldn't have been so... distracting. He forced his gaze back to the map.

"Rumors are circulating about the current boss and his predecessor. Seems the depths of hell couldn't hold him after all." Your finger landed on the map, and Chūya found himself following its movement as it glided between two buildings. He tried to focus on your words, not the graceful motion of your hand. There was something strained about your tone, as if you were taking the rumor personally. "It's the perfect time to strike. Two caches of newly imported booze, guarded by about five men each. They'll be too preoccupied with the rumors to properly defend them."

Chūya groaned, letting his head fall to the side to hide the conflicting emotions on his face. "No way," he muttered, hating how his voice cracked slightly.

"What's wrong, your majesty?" Your mocking tone sent a shiver down his spine that he desperately tried to ignore. "We can handle this without you. Quick in and out."

"It's too dangerous, regardless," Chūya argued, moving around the table. He stopped just before you, close enough to feel the intensity of your presence. It made him feel off-balance for a moment, and he had to fight to keep his voice steady. "You'd send barely armed, non-ability users near Port Mafia territory? Are you tryin’ to get ‘em killed?"

Your eyebrow raised, and Chūya felt his heart skip a beat. He hated how you could affect him like this. "Who said I wasn't going with them?"

Chūya clenched his fists within his pockets, a storm of conflicting emotions churning inside him. On one hand, your recklessness infuriated him. Didn't you understand the risks? The Sheep weren't just pawns to be sacrificed. But on the other hand, a part of him wanted to agree; this would be the best time to strike.

He settled for glaring at you, hoping the anger in his eyes would mask the confusion underneath. "And what if somethin’ goes wrong?" he growled, his voice low to hide its slight tremor. "The Sheep aren't expendable. We can't just throw ‘em into danger on a whim."

Chūya knew he was fighting a losing battle - both against your persuasive arguments and the inexplicable pull he felt towards you. He forced his eyes back to the map, desperately focusing on the proposed mission, on anything but how your presence seemed to fill every corner of the room. The Sheep came first. They had to. No matter how much a part of him wanted to agree with your every word.

"We could leave it to a vote?" Your voice drew his attention back like a magnet. He noticed your hands clasped behind your back, a gesture he'd seen countless times before. It irked him how such a simple thing could look so authoritative coming from you.

Chūya sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked to Shirase, hoping to find an ally. "My vote's obviously a 'no'." He hated how his voice betrayed his frustration.

Shirase, predictable as ever, nodded in agreement with you. The others murmured amongst themselves, and Chūya felt his irritation growing. Always caught between the two of you, never able to make a decision on their own.

He scanned their faces, already sensing his defeat. "Fine," he spat, "but I'm not savin' your asses if you get caught." The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

He always lost when it came to you. You held more sway, more influence over their decisions than he ever could. Some 'King' they'd made him. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, shoulders hunching slightly.

"No."

Your voice cut through his thoughts. Chūya's head snapped up, confusion etched on his face as you turned to address the others. "I'll leave the room, allowing for an anonymous vote. I understand Chūya has some doubts."

You turned back to him, offering a small bow that left him feeling off-balance. "You should at least be able to state your case. I have other matters to attend to now that I've shared the information."

Chūya stared at you, caught off guard by this unexpected move. He couldn't quite read the expression in your eyes, and it left him feeling even more unsettled than before. As you moved to leave, he felt a confusing mix of relief and an unwelcome urge to ask you to stay. He pushed both feelings aside, focusing instead on the opportunity you'd just handed him. Maybe, he could turn this around without you there to sway everyone's opinion and save himself the headache.

In the shadows of a dilapidated warehouse, just above the war room, Chūya found you cradling two of the younger Sheep members. The kids were about thirteen, he guessed. Your hands hovered above the children's heads, emanating a soft blue glow that shifted to lavender as Chūya approached. The sight mesmerized him—your ability manifesting like the northern lights dancing across a night sky.

Chūya whispered your name, his voice barely audible over the creaks and groans of the decrepit shelter. As the glow faded from your hands, you turned to him, your eyes holding a warmth that seemed out of place in their world. With practiced gentleness, you tucked the kids into threadbare futons, pulling frayed sheets over thin shoulders.

He could never quite figure you out. These tender actions contrasted sharply with the impulsive, almost reckless decisions you made during missions. It was as if two people inhabited your body, and Chūya never knew which one he'd encounter.

"I thought your ability was about creating dreams," he said, meeting your gaze. Something in your eyes made him uneasy—an invitation to a hidden world you longed to share. The idea tempted him, but the dark circles under your eyes betrayed the toll it took.

"Dreams are just part of it," you explained softly. "I can manipulate the entire sleep cycle, pushing someone through different stages at will. Dreams are flashy, but the real power is in controlling sleep's restorative aspects."

Chūya nodded, processing this. Your ability, like you, remained a mystery. Standing in the gloom, surrounded by their sleeping makeshift family, he wondered what other secrets you held.

"So, you're giving them... what, super-sleep?" he assumed.

You chuckled. "Something like that. They'll wake feeling more rested than they have in years."

Comfortable silence fell, broken only by soft breathing and distant sounds of city life. Chūya found himself stealing glances, noticing how the dim light caught in your eyes and the slight furrow of concentration between your brows.

Suddenly, you huffed out a small laugh and snaked your arm around his. "Come on. I have one more piece of information to relay."

"Wha—what?" Chūya stammered, feeling a strange heaviness as you tugged his arm. He jerked back, confused. "Where are we going?"

Your face softened in understanding. Leaning in, you cupped your cheek and whispered, "We have to go where the walls can't listen."

Curiosity overrode his hesitation. What information could be so sensitive? He allowed you to link your arm with his again, walking compliantly as you led him through the drafty corridors of the abandoned building. This place, meager as it was, was home to him and the other Sheep. He wondered if you felt the same, given how often you vanished into the shadows, hunting for information.

As you neared the back door leading to roof access, a voice called out your name. Shirase. Chūya noticed the flash of irritation across your face and had to suppress a grin.

You forced Chūya to turn with you, and he suddenly realized how this might look to Shirase—the two of you walking arm-in-arm in the darkness, an oddly intimate picture.

"Shirase." Your voice was strained, patience clearly already wearing thin.

Chūya tensed, sensing the underlying current of tension. Whatever information you wanted to share, it was clear Shirase's interruption was unwelcome. The air grew thick with awkwardness as Shirase approached, giving Chūya an odd glance before focusing entirely on you.

"Hey, so..." Shirase began, his voice cracking slightly. He ran a hand through his messy hair, a nervous habit Chūya had noticed before. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind... you know..." He raised his hands, wiggling his fingers in a vague gesture that made Chūya cringe inwardly. "Doing your thing... your ability... on me?"

Chūya fought the urge to roll his eyes. Shirase's crush on you was painfully obvious, and his clumsy attempts at flirtation were almost unbearable to watch. The way Shirase stood there, with that goofy grin plastered across his face, made Chūya want to disappear into the shadows.

You answered in a tone that was polite but firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "I'm honestly really tired, Shirase. I've got to leave early tomorrow for the next assignment, since we aren’t going for the alcohol. You know how it is."

Chūya watched as Shirase's face fell, the rejection hitting him like a physical blow. It was almost pitiful, the way his shoulders slumped and his eyes dulled.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I totally understand, no big deal," Shirase mumbled, his gaze darting to Chūya. The look in his eyes was a mixture of embarrassment and something darker.

Chūya shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of your arm still linked with his. He wanted to say something, to break the suffocating silence, but words failed him. The whole situation was mortifying, and he found himself wishing he could use his ability to manipulate gravity and just float away from this awkward position, but he remained still.

You cleared your throat, your voice taking on a gentler tone. "Look, Shirase, I appreciate the thought. But my ability isn't something to be used lightly. It takes a lot out of me, and right now, I need to conserve my energy. You understand, right?"

Shirase nodded glumly, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Yeah, of course. The mission comes first. Always does."

Chūya felt a twinge of sympathy for Shirase, despite his annoyance at the interruption. They were all so young, thrust into this dangerous world of abilities and shadowy organizations. Moments like these – awkward, painfully human moments – were rare and somehow made everything feel more surreal.

"Maybe another time," you added, though Chūya could tell from your tone that you didn't mean it. "We should all get some rest."

As Shirase mumbled a goodbye and shuffled away, Chūya felt the tension in your arm relax slightly. He glanced at you, noticing the way your eyes followed Shirase's retreating form with a mixture of pity and frustration.

"That was..." Chūya started, not sure how to finish the sentence.

You sighed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Yeah, it was. Come on, we still need to talk."

You guided him towards the door, grasping the ladder outside. As you hoisted yourself up, Chūya followed, trying his best to focus on the rungs rather than... other things. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut at the thought. Instead, he noticed the absence of your blue bracelet, finding it odd you didn't wear it even when wandering the halls of their base.

A sigh of relief escaped you as you reached the top. Chūya looked up to see you glancing down at him, a mischievous smile stitched across your face.

"Couldn't you have just used your ability and beat me up here?" you teased.

Chūya laughed, shaking his head. "Where would’ve been the fun in that? Also, I was followin’ your lead. Chivalry isn't dead, you know."

"Oh, how very gallant of you, King Chūya," you replied with an exaggerated curtsy.

He watched as you moved to the edge of the metal roof, sitting down with a dull thud. He followed suit, leaning back on his arms and gazing up at the star-studded sky. Despite the living conditions, at least it always came with a beautiful view...

"I'll probably be gone for a while..." you spoke into the midnight air, snapping his attention back to you.

"Oh? Planning a vacation?" Chūya quipped, raising an eyebrow.

You gave a small laugh. "Wouldn't you want to extend your outing after an awkward encounter like that? I hear Siberia's lovely this time of year."

He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I haven't really been on the receiving end of unwanted attention like that.”

You expelled air dramatically. "Are you kidding me? Yuan practically has heart-eyes whenever you so much as breathe in her direction."

Chūya’s eyebrows shot up. "Nah, I don't really notice her like that. She probably just wants to see my ability in action or something."

"That's the thing though, isn't it?" Your voice softened as you curled your legs inward, resting your chin on your knees.

"It's like..." you continued, your voice soft and contemplative, "to them, we're these larger-than-life figures. Not quite gods, but definitely not just regular humans either. In their eyes, we can do no wrong. We're the kings and queens they make us out to be."

Your words hung in the air between you, heavy with implications. Chūya found himself staring out at the city lights, pondering this new perspective.

"But we're not," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm no king... even though everyone keeps callin’ me one… We're just... us. Right?"

You turned to him, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, we are. But sometimes I wonder if anyone else sees that anymore."

A comfortable silence fell between you as you flattened your legs on the metal roof. Chūya noticed you picking at your hands, the skin red and raw. Without thinking, he reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

You looked up at him, hesitation in your eyes before speaking. "What I wanted to tell you, without anyone else hearing... it's about the old Port Mafia boss."

Chūya felt a jolt of excitement mixed with apprehension. "What about him?"

You grasped Chūya's hand tighter, the touch unfamiliar but oddly comforting. His eyes widened slightly at the gesture, but he didn't pull away. "The rumors..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "they're saying Arahabaki has something to do with his return."

Chūya's breath hitched, a mix of curiosity and unease washing over him. "What? What do you mean?" he pressed, leaning in closer, his red hair catching the moonlight.

You shook your head, frustration evident in your voice. "That's all I could get. I tried to find out more, I really did. I'm sorry." Your shoulders slumped slightly, disappointment clear in your posture.

"Hey, nothing to be sorry about," Chūya said, his tone softening as he tried to catch your eyes. A reassuring smile played on his lips. "I know getting that information must've been tough, considering."

You hummed in response, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Anything to do with the Port Mafia is nothing short of exhausting, especially after being their property…"

Chūya tensed up momentarily, thinking back to your explanation of your escape and arrival at the Sheep. He quickly shook off the dark thoughts, focusing on the present.

"Oh, and there's more." You squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to your words. "Supposedly, there's going to be a Port Mafia member lurking around Suribachi, searching for information."

"Dammit," Chūya hissed, his free hand clenching into a fist. Then, a mischievous glint appeared in his eye. "Of course they're gonna snoop around our territory. But... it could be an opportunity."

Your grip on his jacket sleeve tightened, concern evident in your voice. "Just promise, nothing reckless like today."

A playful smirk crossed Chūya's lips, his earlier tension melting away. "Shouldn't I be telling you that? You're the one constantly putting yourself in the Port Mafia's crosshairs."

You returned his smile, a mischievous glint in your eye. "I have my ways. Men will do a lot for a good dream and rest."

Chūya huffed out a laugh, remembering Shirase's earlier request and your offer. His curiosity piqued, he asked, "Speaking of... if you were to give me a dream, what would it be?"

You glanced back at the cityscape, considering for a moment. "A good life... one where you didn't constantly worry about the Sheep or whoever you were over. Where being 'king' just means being strong and respected, not having all this weight on your shoulders." You turned to him, a soft determination in your eyes. "I'd make that true for you."

Chūya nodded, looking out at the city, the lights twinkling like earthbound stars. "Sounds like a good dream," he said softly, not quite grasping the full depth of your words, but appreciating the sentiment all the same.

He nudged your shoulder playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "But hey, who needs dreams when we've got all this?" He gestured dramatically at their surroundings - the rusty metal roof, the distant glow of the city, the vast starry sky above.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Oh yes, living the high life here on our luxury penthouse."

"Exactly!" Chūya grinned, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Five-star accommodations, breathtaking views, excellent company... what more could a guy ask for?"

Your laughter, genuine and unguarded, filled the night air, and Chūya found himself grinning wider, enjoying the sound.

"You know," you said after a while, your voice taking on a more serious tone, "whatever happens with this Port Mafia business, whatever turns up with Arahabaki... we've got this, right? You and me, the Sheep... we'll figure it out."

Chūya felt a warmth spread through his chest as he gazed at you, his friend and confidant, silhouetted against the night sky. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice filled with determination and a hint of excitement for whatever challenges lay ahead. "We've got this."

He watched curiously as you gave a curt smile and began unzipping your outermost jacket. "Here," you said, shrugging it off.

"Hmm?" Chūya's eyebrows quirked up, wondering what you were up to. He observed as you bundled up the jacket and placed it behind him with a gentle pat.

The nudge on his shoulder caught him by surprise. "I'll give you a dream," you explained. "Just a real quick one, twenty minutes tops."

Chūya hesitated for a moment before giving in to your urging. As he laid his head onto your jacket, he couldn't help but notice the lingering warmth you had left behind. It was... nice. Comfortable. "Oh yeah?" he quipped, unable to resist teasing. "That dream you mentioned earlier seems like it'd take longer than twenty minutes."

Your laugh rang out once again in the night air. He watched as you raised your hand above his head, your fingers hovering just above his eyes. "No, I just had another idea. A dream where you'd actually win at an arcade game for once."

"Hey!" Chūya protested, his hand shooting up to grab your wrist. "That was one time." He felt a flicker of embarrassment at the memory, but it was overshadowed by amusement.

Your playful head tilt and the smile that followed made Chūya's cheeks warm unexpectedly. "Oh yeah? Then how come it kept happening?" you challenged.

He scoffed, releasing your wrist in feigned annoyance, but he couldn't quite keep the smile off his face. "Whatever, just try and give me this dream," he grumbled good-naturedly.

The sudden smack on his chest caught him off guard. "If you even act angry it'll affect the dream so stop it," you warned, your tone light but your eyes serious.

Chūya closed his eyes, exhaling sharply as he tried to empty his mind. It was harder than usual, especially with your presence so close, warm and comforting beside him. 

"Ability: Exhaustion," he heard you intone softly.

As sleep began to tug at the edges of his consciousness, Chūya found himself both skeptical and hopeful. All he ever saw when sleeping was emptiness, a void of darkness. But if you could actually manipulate a dream for him... well, he hoped he'd remember it. The thought of experiencing a real dream, even if it was just about winning an arcade game, filled him with a childlike excitement he hadn't felt in a long time.

Chūya stood before the full-length mirror in his apartment, his nimble fingers working on the knot of his silk tie. The warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. He hadn't realized he had zoned out until a sharp vibration from his suit pocket jolted him back to reality.

A scowl crossed his face as he remembered Mori's insistence on his attendance at this event. A gathering of executives, sub-executives, and other Port Mafia affiliates was enough to make his blood simmer with irritation. Social niceties had never been his strong suit.

With a sigh, he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieving his phone. Kōyō's name flashed on the screen, and he could practically hear her stern voice already. No doubt she was calling to ensure he hadn't found some convenient excuse to bow out.

"What?" he answered, his tone clipped as he wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder, returning his attention to the stubborn tie.

Kōyō's voice came through, tinged with exasperation. "Are you even dressed yet? I feel like I've been waiting down here for over twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes, tops. The unbidden thought flashed through Chūya's mind, accompanied by a fragment of a long-ago memory. He shook his head, nearly dropping the phone in the process.

"I'm nearly done," he grumbled, finally conquering the tie. "Whatcha so in a rush for, huh? Not like this is a business meetin' or anythin'."

He heard Kōyō sigh on the other end, a sound he was all too familiar with. "Have I taught you nothing about punctuality, Chūya?"

Rolling his eyes, he set the phone down on the dresser, speaking louder as he shrugged into his jacket. "It doesn't even start till thirty minutes from now, we're fine!"

A groan emitted from the receiver, followed by Kōyō's voice, quieter now. "You really have learned nothing."

Chūya snatched up his favorite hat, settling it at a rakish angle on his head before picking up the phone again. "You gonna keep lecturin' me or should I just call it quits on this whole thing?"

He could practically see Kōyō's stern expression through the phone. Despite his irritation, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Some things never changed, and Kōyō's motherly concern was one of them.

"Just get down here," she said, a hint of fondness creeping into her tone. "And Chūya? Try not to scowl too much. It's unbecoming."

With a theatrical sigh, Chūya ended the call. He cast one last glance in the mirror, adjusting his hat slightly. The man staring back at him looked every inch the Port Mafia executive, but his eyes held a hint of something else. He shook that feeling off too. He didn’t need anyone questioning him tonight about his thoughts of days long gone.

Even as the sleek black car glided through the neon-lit streets of Yokohama, Chūya couldn't help but drift back to the memories that had surfaced earlier. The plush leather seat beside Kōyō felt a world away from the cold, hard rooftops of his youth.

He remembered that night, waking up with a smile that had become foreign to him since joining the Mafia. Your face had been hovering above him, alight with excitement to share the dream and hear his thoughts. In a rare moment of unbridled joy, he had hugged you tightly. You were warm despite the cool breeze, your heartbeat seemingly synchronized with his own.

Chūya squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the memories away. You had told him to forget, after all. But the images kept coming, vivid and relentless.

He saw you crouching before him, water splashing up and soaking your jacket. You were dressed in all black, an oversized hood casting shadows across your face, leaving only sadness visible in your eyes.

"Heard some rumors about you, Chūya," your voice echoed in his mind, "about the Sheep."

He remembered the pain, the stab wound in his stomach pulsating with each labored breath.

"The Sheep... they're gonna be split up. That way something like this doesn't happen again."

Even now, years later, he could feel the grimace on his face as he had looked up at you. "What about you?"

Your soft smile, the gentle touch as you brushed stray hairs from his face - it all felt so real. The handkerchief you had produced from your jacket, wiping away the sweat from his brow.

"I'm not a member of the Sheep, Chūya. Not really, remember?" Your words had stung more than the wound. "So... it's best you forget about me."

He had wanted to reach out, to grasp onto you, but his body wouldn't cooperate.

"But, that dream, what I made for you nights ago... I think you're gonna get that now. The Port Mafia will take care of you, Chūya."

Even now, he wanted to object, to call out the lies. It couldn't have been real, just a nightmare born from blood loss and pain.

"You'll be a king. Just... don't let people get into that head of yours."

The memory of your touch on his cheek, the soft press of your lips against his forehead - it all felt too vivid, too real to be just a recollection.

"Even throughout our endless bickering and fighting because our passions differed," your whispered words ghosted across his skin, "And of all the dreams I've had, you were always in my favorite ones."

Chūya's eyes snapped open, the present rushing back in a flood of sensory input. The purr of the car engine, the faint scent of Kōyō's perfume, the glittering lights of Yokohama streaming past the tinted windows. He took a deep, steadying breath, pushing the memories back into the recesses of his mind.

He was Chūya Nakahara, executive of the Port Mafia now. A ‘king’, just as you had predicted. But as he straightened his tie and adjusted his hat, he couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the dream you had envisioned for him all those years ago.

"What's got you all silent for once?" Kōyō's melodic voice cut through Chūya's reverie, accompanied by a gentle nudge from her ornate fan.

Chūya scoffed, crossing his arms defensively as he shifted in his seat. The leather creaked softly beneath him. "Can't I be silent in peace? Already don't wanna go to this event," he grumbled, his reflection in the window scowling back at him.

Kōyō's laughter filled the car, light and airy. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she opened her fan, the intricate design catching the passing streetlights. "Surely it won't be that bad," she mused, fanning herself gently. "Just come and make an appearance, and maybe Mori will allow you to leave early."

Chūya rolled his eyes, the action exaggerated by the tilt of his hat. "What's the point of this event if even Mori's going to mope the entire time?" he retorted, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. "He's still not over that bastard up and leavin'."

A playful lilt colored Kōyō's response, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sounds like you aren't either."

Chūya's eyes widened, his body recoiling as if he'd been struck. The mere suggestion sent a jolt of indignation through him. "Hey! I'm glad that suicidal bastard ain't here anymore!" he snapped, his voice rising sharply in the confined space of the car.

Kōyō's laughter only grew at his reaction, the sound both infuriating and oddly comforting. Chūya gritted his teeth, choosing to let it go rather than dig himself deeper. With a low growl, he turned back to the window, watching as familiar buildings rushed past in a blur of neon and shadow.

Not much longer now, he thought to himself. Then he could make his appearance, play his part, and leave all the sooner.

As the car jerked to a halt, Chūya’s hand was already on the door handle. He pushed himself out, the cool night air a welcome change from the stuffy interior. Turning back, he offered his hand to Kōyō, feeling the delicate pressure of her fingers as she gracefully exited the vehicle.

Closing the door behind her, Chūya took a moment to survey his surroundings. The buzz of anticipation in the air was almost palpable, mixing with the subtle scents of expensive colognes and the night-blooming flowers adorning the entrance. A steady stream of Port Mafia members and affiliates moved towards the building, their finery a stark contrast to the shadows at the edges of the property.

Chūya’s eyes were drawn upward, tracing the lines of the imposing structure before him. The 'Mori Corporation' sign gleamed overhead, its golden letters a beacon in the night. He couldn't help but smirk at the audacity of it all.

Following Kōyō's lead, Chūya stepped into the building. The familiar opulence of the interior hit him anew – soaring ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and the low hum of power that seemed to emanate from every surface. Even after five years, a part of him still marveled at the sheer grandeur the Port Mafia commanded.

His gaze swept the room, cataloging faces both familiar and unknown. Leaning closer to Kōyō, he muttered, "So, who's even here from the affiliates? We don't really deal with them, that's Mori's business."

"Well," Kōyō began as they approached the bar, "I believe the Nagano group Shirubā Sanzu's leader is here. I can never remember his name." She waved dismissively, clearly unbothered by the lapse in memory.

Chūya grabbed two champagne flutes, handing one to Kōyō as she continued. "The Tokyo sister group Onikai is here too. I remember when that girl used to be just an assassin and whisperer. She was so good, I surely thought she'd make executive, but no! She took the job of taking over that syndicate group. She hardly ever shows up to these though."

As Kōyō reminisced, Chūya’s attention drifted. His eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Mori. Good, now he could make his presence known and start planning his escape from this tedious affair.

As he began to move towards Mori, Kōyō following, something made him pause. There was a smaller figure beside the Port Mafia boss, and for a moment, Chūya felt as if the ground had shifted beneath his feet. It couldn't be... could it?

"Then the Mito group—" Kōyō continued, but Chūya cut her off abruptly.

"Wait," he said, his voice tight with sudden tension. "Go back. The other group – what's the leader's name?"

Kōyō's response sent a jolt through him. The name she spoke – it was so close to yours, yet more formal, a longer version of your name. As if she were talking about a person he once knew intimately, now turned stranger.

"I actually think that might be her over there," Kōyō added, but Chūya barely heard her.

His heart pounded against his ribs as he strained to get a better look at the woman speaking with Mori. A whirlwind of emotions surged through him – disbelief warring with hope, uncertainty tinged with a sharp edge of something he couldn't quite name. Could it really be you? After all this time?

Chūya's world narrowed to a single point of focus. He had to know. He had to see your face and confirm whether the past he'd thought long buried was about to come crashing back into his present. Without a word, he passed his champagne flute to Kōyō, barely registering her questioning look in his peripheral vision.

His feet began to move of their own accord, carrying him forward. He didn't care if he was about to make a fool of himself. He had to know he wasn't dreaming.

As he drew nearer, Mori's smooth voice drifted into earshot. "I just wish you would return, my dear. I could instate someone else for you to come back. It's just too nice to finally see you in person again. Ah, it makes me remember your youth."

Your voice – so familiar, yet changed – came clearly in response, laughing off the proposal. "And let my hard work go to waste? Come now, Mori, you know better than I that this has been the best venture for me, for us."

Chūya's gaze locked onto you. Your eyes squinted as you smiled, a practiced look you had no doubt given thousands of times. Mori merely chuckled at your rejection, one you had probably offered several times before.

He noticed your hands clasped behind your back, fingers mindlessly picking and rubbing your nails together – a habit he remembered all too well.

Chūya's lips parted, but no sound came out. He tried to steady his breathing, silently cursing his quickening pulse. He swallowed hard and tried again, hearing your name leave his lips in a shaky whisper.

Mori turned first, then you. Chūya couldn't read the expression on your face, only noticing your eyes dart between his as your lips parted in surprise.

If it weren't for Mori's knowing chuckle, Chūya might have remained frozen in disbelief.

"I'll let you handle this one, dear," Mori said, his tone laced with amusement. "Seems it's time for you to clean up your mess." He patted you on the shoulder before giving a small bow to Chūya and departing.

Chūya watched as your eyes drifted downward, your gaze seeming to bore holes into the polished marble floor. He caught the sharp exhale that escaped your pursed lips, the sound barely audible above the ambient chatter of the gathering. Your shoulders tensed, a minute movement that he might have missed if he hadn't been so intently focused on every detail of your presence.

You gave a harsh swallow, your throat bobbing visibly with the effort. Chūya's eyes traced the familiar line of your neck, memories flooding back unbidden. Slowly, achingly slowly, you raised your head to meet his gaze.

The look in your eyes struck him like a physical blow. It was a complex mixture of emotions – regret, apprehension, and something that looked unsettlingly like pity. Your brows were slightly furrowed, creating a small crease between them that Chūya had the absurd urge to smooth away with his thumb.

"Chūya," you began, your voice soft and hesitant, a stark contrast to the confident tones you'd used with Mori moments ago. "I can explain."