#now is it a fake moustache? that remains to be seen

[coquelicoq]

Quoique d'une pâleur presque livide, cet homme [Simbad le Marin] avait une figure remarquablement belle; ses yeux étaient vifs et perçants; son nez droit, et presque de niveau avec le front, indiquait le type grec dans toute sa pureté, et ses dents, blanches comme des perles, ressortaient admirablement sous la moustache noire qui les encadrait. (p. 346)

WE HAVE ACHIEVED MOUSTACHE I REPEAT WE HAVE ACHIEVED MOUSTACHE

[littlefreya]

Reader decides to wear THAT dress 💃💃💃 how do all the characters react?

Characters: Henry, August, Syverson, Walter and Sherlock

Warning: rpf, 18+, exhibition kink, dirty language, fluff, slight age gap mentioned, slight dark themes (dark non-con thoughts for Sherlock)  

N/A: Not beta’d, all mistakes are mine. 

THAT dress 💃

Henry.

It was one of the most important nights of his life.

The vast golden hall was swarming with people, the flickering cameras lights looked like diamond sparkling in the sky. Yet all he could think of, all he wanted to do right now was fling you over his sturdy shoulder and fuck you to death.

The fact that you behaved so oblivious, did nothing to deter his animalistic urges.

“You just had to wear that dress, didn’t you?”

You shivered are the low baritone and the sensation of his knuckle gliding down your spine.

“I…” you breath shuddered. Giving no mind to the many eyes upon you, Henry slid his hand through the split in your dress. Warm and smooth, his fingers glided up your thighs, finding the path to the apex of your legs.

“Fuck, baby, I can feel your heat,” he hummed and crept so close his hardening groin rubbed right against your ass.

Slowly, almost seamlessly, he grounded against you, little groans of pleasure sputtering from his mouth. A pool of molten fire gathered at your panties and your little slit began to twitch for him.

“Henry… everyone is watching!” You whispered urgently.

Leaning in, he stole a kiss from your nape and with his lips pressed to your ear he grinned.

“Then let’s give them the best show.”

August.

“Agent Walker. Walker? Hey, Walker!”

“Agent… uh…” August’s mouth remained agape, amazement clear in his cobalt gaze as he scanned you up and down with not a sliver of shame or self restraint.

“You really don’t remember my fucking name?!” A frown split your brow. “Classic…”

“Simmer down, kitten.” The bewhiskered man raised a hand in the air, gesturing you to relax, which naturally only made you fume.

“Did the agency send that dress? Or did you pick it yourself?”

“They picked it,” you answered with agitation, “why?” You paused and checked yourself from side to side, feeling a flush of insecurity, “is something wrong with it?”

August brushed two fingers over his moustache and then offered a devious smirk “yeah, there is something wrong with it.”

“What is it?”

“I’d like to see you without it.”

Syverson

Captain. Logan. Syverson. 

The sexual awakening of every girl and boy in highschool... and possibly, the teachers too. 

There he was, after all these years; muscles woven tightly over flesh and bone as he leaned against the door frame with a bottle of beer hanging between his finger and his thumb. He appeared bigger than you remembered, the tender peach fuzz that once decorated his chin was now a nestle of thick coarse hair and on his tanned skin he wore a collection of sharp scars, yet despite it all, he was still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

“May I help you?”

He didn’t recognise you, but then again how could he? You were the annoying little friend of his baby sister, that same awkward teen who lurked about their house every day after school. Deep down inside you knew he never acknowledged your existence, and still you dreamt of that day when you would be the beautiful adult woman he would fancy, like all the girlfriends he always kept around. 

Sadly, that day never came and being the grunt that he was, Sy decided to enlist and disappeared from your life for good.

Until today.

“You alright there, darlin’?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You faked a smile and pretended as if you two never met before. “I’m here to see Shelly.”

Syverson took a long sip from his beer, his lake-blue eyes glistening as they slowly drank the sight of you, giving no care to how obvious it was that he was observing and scoring you from head to toe. 

You followed his sight and immediately felt ridiculous. It was that dress, that tight-as-fuck, complimenting dress that somehow made you look naked while wearing clothes. Feeling vulnerable you hugged your belly and gave him a sardonic grin. 

Of course you wanted Syverson to check you out, but the fact that he still couldn’t recognise you only made you hate him for all the years he ignored your existence.

“Shelly’s not home, she went out with that guy,” he finally answered, his eyes returning to glance at your face after a through inspection.

“Went out with a guy? She told me to meet her at 8 so we can go out!” You called out surprised and then checked your phone only to make sure you understood her text correctly.

Syverson shrugged and shook his head, “wouldn’t be the first time my sister did that, sorry.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, muttering something into your palm while turning in your spot. Whatever fantasy you had about meeting Syverson again as a “sexy adult” that was not it. After what felt like a rush of panic, you finally turned back to face him. His gaze slowly crawled from your ass to your face, gracing you with another smirk.

“I’m sorry, my sister is kind of a bitch,” he tried to comfort you.

“Yeah, you bet...” you mumbled and dropped your gaze to the ground. You opened your mouth to apologise and bid him farewell but Sy beat you to it. 

“I have an idea.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his face. The large man now had one arms stretched over the door frame, his large bicep pumped as he flexed his muscle. You could sense the scent of his musk, earthy and fresh.

“You already have a fancy dress, and I am free, so how ‘bout we get back at Shelly and I’ll take you out for a drink.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of these words and the bare parts of your skin crawled with shiver, yet years of anger simmered in your blood. Frowning you crossed your arms together and shook your head. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” 

Before Syverson could answer, you turned away but just as your heels made two steps forward you heard him calling by your name.

“Don’t be funny, darlin’, you’ve been on my mind for the last 15 years.”

Walter

Public disturbance, vandalism, resisting arrest. 

This night couldn’t get any better. 

There you were, cuffs caging your wrists to the investigation desk as if you were some murder suspect, all because you had a wee bit too much to drink and decided to pay a visit to your asshole ex.

“Fuck sake, it’s cold in here...” you muttered under your breath, peering down on the goosebumps decorating your beg legs. You just had to get yourself arrested while wearing that dress. The officers at the station probably thought you are a prostitute.  

“Fucking A…” you cursed again, just in time for the door to spring open.

Frowning, you threw your head over your shoulder to look at the person who barged into the room. For the last hour and a half you imagined how you would tell them to go to hell for treating you this way but the moment your eyes locked on his all the words in your head went astray.

To say that the huge sweater-wearing Viking that stood before you was a god would be an understatement.

Fuck, were you gawking? 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said without any real remorse in his deep baritone, and but of course, he had to have a British accent as all handsome men do. 

‘Jesus, did I hit my head and woke up in some trashy fanfiction?’ You wondered.

The detective let out a deep sigh and moved to the other side of the table and took his seat. His face were colder than the room but his pale cerulean gaze crept down the sight of your body, lingering on the tight dress and specifically on how it rode up your thighs. 

Swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat, you sought for courage and then twisted your wrists. “Is this necessary, officer?”

“Detective,” he correct, “and I don’t know, you tell me, ma’am. Officer Grant’s uniforms are now covered in pink thanks to your little... outburst.” 

Maybe it was the remnants of alcohol in your blood, but briefly remembering what happened earlier you couldn’t help but snort. The detective in front of you did not share you amusement, however, tilting his head he gave you a stern frown which immediately killed your smile. 

“Assaulting a law enforcement man is a serious offence,” he warned.

“I’m terribly sorry,” you cleared your throat, “I realise now I was out of control.”

“You broke into Mr. Carter’s garage and painted his car pink, including the windshield and resisted arrest.”

The urge to smile burnt in you once more, but it took one stare from the brooding detective to deter you. Instead you chewed your bottom lip and nodded. “I understand my actions... I’m sorry. I’ll pay for whatever the damage is, but please can I go home?” 

The detective sighed again, his frigid expression giving no hint to whatever thoughts ran through his troubled mind but then his eyes betrayed him and fell to your body once again. A dark flame blazed within them and his adam apple bobbed up and down his thick throat. 

“Lucky you, your ex-boyfriend is not pressing charges,” he retorted, “and I hate to have you in a cell wearing that...”  he paused and frowned, as if angry with himself. “I’m letting you go but you better be a good girl from now on.”

‘Yes, daddy.’

The detective rummaged for something in his jeans’ pocket and then reached for your cuffs. You couldn’t help but flinch at the warmth of his touch the moment his fingers wrapped around your wrist. 

Your eyes met in tensed silence. By god, you wanted him. 

“Thank you,” you answered softly as he released your hands. 

The man grunted in response, his fingers toying with the chain of the cuffs while he glanced at you, though his expression was unreadable, you couldn’t argue the sense of unease that surfaced the small chamber and even though you wanted nothing but to be home, you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that you were now free to go. 

“Will it be weird if I’ll leave you my number?”

“We already have it,” he answered absentmindedly but then quickly realised his err, “Oh. That would be unprofessional of me, I am sorry.” 

You nodded with agreement and obvious disappointed. At least you tried. 

The detective cleared his throat again and then stood up and offered you to follow. There was an apparent battle in his eyes, trying to sway the desire and urge to ogle you, especially once you stood straight and fixed your dress.

“Come, I’ll check you out, clear you out,” he corrected and accompanied you out of the investigation room and through the empty corridor. 

“I hope I don’t see you again, Miss,” he uttered, making you frown with bemusement. 

Cold as before, he stared forward, only his mouth giving away his feelings as he bit into his bottom lips. “I am having coffee and pie every mornings at Chelsea’s around 9, I really hope I don’t bump into you over there...” He warned. 

It took you a moment to understand and then you smiled lightly, “yeah, I really hope I don’t see you there either, this Tuesday...”

Sherlock (semi dark)

The chill of midnight enveloped me, darkness and gloom seeped around my bones as I sat forlorn in my study. It was another night where I couldn’t have you, and God, how I yearned to touch you, to taste the sweet innocence of your skin. 

I threw the book that was in my hand - these proses could no longer banish my sacrilegious thoughts, the sickness in me growing stronger with every passing day you spent in my estate. I’ve become haunted by you, so much that I could have sworn that your scent was the tip of my nose long before you appeared. 

And then, just as if summoned by some odd magic you stepped into my room wearing the same dress you wore the first I saw you. Lavender and gold silk, spilling from the deep cleavage that supported your breasts like an offering to the gods. 

“Is everything alright? I heard a noise.” Always so polite and naive, you bowed to me and then rushed to picked the book from the corner. 

Remaining silent, I pressed a finger to my temple, trying to fight away the dark sway of lust that swerved within my loins, but then you inched closer, and the closer you inched the larger the demon grew. 

“Mister Holmes?” You asked again, offering me the book. Your eyes shone with true concern, but the light within them was extinguished by the sudden snap of my fingers around your wrist.

You hissed and instinctively struggled against me, but to no use. Silent and careless as the ocean, my gaze strippd you naked, making tatters of that dress and forcing you down on the floor where I breached through the gates of your sacred eden and defiled your purity.

I let go of your wrist before my thoughts turned into reality and you stepped away, holding your wrist painfully with eyes glossy and full of fear and betrayal.

“Run along now,” I demanded with warning in my voice.

You needn't not for me to ask twice. Holding onto your dress, you turned to scamper, the silks floating in the air behind your like a ghost exorcised.

Not tonight. I promised myself. 

Not tonight. 

[handhelld]

Fake Marriage AU!Golfgoat

Locke and Vlad, way back in their early twenties, get married for separate legal reasons. Vlad was doing it because having a wife on paper kept his family off his back and also made for a great cover. Its fake. They’re complete strangers and never thought theyd see one another again after the officiation.

The “Wife” vlad often refers to is locke. That he hasnt seen in like 20-30 years, however long ago that officiation was. Vlad’s “brother in law” was just a friend of Locke’s who officiated their wedding. Locke dropped contact after the wedding but Vlad kept up with him, since he did some shady shit on the side.

Fast forward to present day and they start working for Crime.net at the same tome. Vlad absolutely doesnt recognise Locke as his wife, because why would he??? He married some pretty woman in his early twenties named “Lockie”. Locke however, is freaking the fuck out, because goddamn it, motherfucker, thats the man he fake married so he could leave the country and change his name (easier when you do it via marriage) and *transition*.

So now we have these fuckers who are married but only Locke knows it. Vlad keeps mentioning his wife, CONSTANTLY, and Locke is dying dead and deceased, terrified of Vlad realizing that HE is that wife.

Bonus: Locke’s post assault line about being “So scared his mustache almost fell off”,,,, before he started growing a real one from T, he actually used fake mustaches and they used to fall off when he got stressed and sweated to much. His moustache is real now and will not fall off, but the fear remains.

Bonus 2: Locke ditching the gang in alaska was actually just him realising that bain worked with vlad and he had a crisis because holy shit what do you mean his husband is here. In crimenet. And he had an Episode mid heist and just ran out of the room. Everyone thought he abandoned the gang, but he eas really just having a life dilemma he forgot about for thirty years.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hey Steph, really adore your blog. I saw your ask about s3 and s4 John and his anger. do you have any pics that deal with that? I think his anger is caused by his jealousy. he loves Sherlock and is deeply insecure about S's love for him. I'd love to find some fics that actually deal with all of that. thank you. x

Hey Nonny!!

I DO!!! Been waiting for another ask to finally get this list up and out! Hope you find something you enjoy on this one! <3

ANGRY / CRANKY JOHN

See also:

Jealous John b/c of Other People

Jealous John

Jealous John Pt. 2 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 2 

Jealous John Pt 3 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 3 

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 4 

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 5

Texts and Tea by JillianWatson1058 (K, 959 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Texting, Humour, Fluff, POV John, Cranky John) – A John who is woken up at 2:30 in the morning is not a happy John. Sherlock, frankly, doesn’t care. He just wants his tea.

And, Usually, He's the One Who GIVES Me a Headache by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,315 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, POV John, Cranky John, Headaches, Head Massage) – A migraine is never fun.

Hallucinations can't open doors by Bespectacled dreamer (K+, 1,330 w., 1 Ch. || Reunion, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Hallucinations, John’s Wedding, Light Humour) – In which John gets married and Sherlock gets a broken nose.

The 3x John Carried Sherlock, and Once ViceVersa by ShinkonoKokoro (K+, 1,673 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Friendship, Three and One, BAMF John, Sherlock Whump, Worried Sherlock, John Gets Shot) – It happens more than he suspects.

Baskerville After Dark by Ttime42 (T, 1,921 w., 1 Ch. || THoB, Friendship, Humor, Bed Sharing, Missing Scenes, Cranky John, Cuddles) – John and Sherlock have to share a bed at Baskerville. Gen, but can be preslash.

Stay by sussexbound (M, 2,067 w., 1 Ch. || Post TAB, Suicidal Ideation Mention, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Love Confessions, Frottage, Coming in Pants) –  “Why? Why did you do it? Hmm…?” He takes a deep breath, waits, lets it out again. “Look at me.” There’s no denying him when he takes this tone. “Why did you kill him? Hmm…? For her? After…” A muscle twitches in the corner of John’s eye, and he clamps his jaw down tightly, swallows and sniffs a little before continuing. “For her? After everything she’s done?” “For you.” Before he can even stop himself. Just like that.

Denial Isn’t Just a River in Egypt by satanatemycat (T, 2,107 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Texting, Bored/Cranky Sherlock) – In which John makes a bet with a co-worker. If he wins, she shuts up about him and Sherlock being a couple. If he loses… well, that doesn’t matter, because he won’t lose. Because he and Sherlock ARE NOT a couple. Right?

Nothing Left Untouched by ForeverShippingJohnlock (K+, 2,617 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Bed Sharing, Oblivious Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Grumpy John, Fluff and Cuddles) – Sherlock rearranges the flat. So what if John's bedroom is now a research library. It's not like John needs a bedroom, he can share with Sherlock. They're friends and John has obviously slept in close quarters with men before and it's not like Sherlock sleeps much anyway. It'll be fine.

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John's danger days.

Extraordinary by ardenteurophile (T, 2,739 w., 7 Ch. || Angst, Pining, Romance, Second Person POV Sherlock, Pre-Slash) – Sherlock tries to understand his preoccupation with one Doctor John Watson - the one case he can never solve.

BBCSH 'The Comfort of Company' by tigersilver (T, 2,769 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF/Mary, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Bed Sharing, Grumpy John, Touching, Clingy/Handsy Sherlock, Cranky Sherlock, Fluff and Light Angst) – It's a trope that John and Sherlock end up sharing in the same bed eventually and I admit I do adore it unconditionally, along with all it infers as to the lowering of defenses and the heightening of trust. I put forth for your consideration that the notion persists because those who think about these things realize these two men are each in dire need of some good company.

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

Bathroom Accessories by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 3,324 w., 1 Ch. || Sex Toys, Butt Plug, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Horny Sherlock, John’s Patience Wears Thin, Humour, Bottomlock) – John discovers that Sherlock has been playing with some very adult toys in the bath.

After the Bombs by VampirePam (T, 3,337 w., 2 Ch. || THoB AU, Drugs, John’s PTSD, Panic Attack, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock, Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – In which the drugs Sherlock used to dose John trigger a severe episode of PTSD. When terrors old and new cause John to fall apart, Sherlock must rectify his mistake and pick up the pieces.

Breakfast, acronyms and brotherhood by Rose de Sharon (K+, 4,074 w., 1 Ch. || TBB Fic, Friendship/Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Fluff) – Set after The Blind Banker: my take of Sherlock and John's conversation over breakfast. S/J friendship, bromance, no slash.

Afghanistan in Baskerville by Amaya Ramiel (K+, 4,357 w., 1 Ch. || THoB Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drugged John, PTSD / Panic Attack, Hallucinations, Worried Sherlock, John’s Past, Friendship) – What if John hadn't seen the hound when Sherlock trapped him in the lab? What if instead, his very real nightmares of the war had materialized all around him? Trapped and drugged, John can't tell what's real and what's not. How will Sherlock react?

What John Doesn't Know (Won't Hurt Him) by blueink3 (NR [T], 4,392 w., 1 Ch, || S3 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Snippets of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Fluff and Angst, Five and One, Hopeful Ending, POV Sherlock) – Five people who see Sherlock's scars before John Watson. But Sherlock's secrets were never something he could keep from his blogger for long.

Overture by Kate_Lear (M, 4,435 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Angry John, Introspection, Dev. Rel., Embarassed / Insecure Sherlock, Morning After, Bed Sharing, Cuddles / Limpet Sherlock) – A short snippet on how John and Sherlock might have got together.

When Your Belly's in the Trench by Morgan_Stuart (T, 4,743 w., 1 Ch. || PTSD, Character Study, Rescue, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Torture, Trauma, Danger, Drama, Kidnapping/Captivity) – The next time that door opens, John Watson will kill the person on the other side.

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 5,034 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

This Year by DiscordantWords (T, 6,283 w., 2 Ch. || TEH Divergence / No Mary, New Year’s Eve, John’s A Mess, Jealous John, Awkward Conversations, Trapped in a Closet, Estranged After Return, John POV, Semi-Reunion, Angry John, First Kiss, Reconciliation, Clueless Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Last year, Sherlock Holmes showed up at the Landmark with a fake moustache and a bad French accent and threw John's entire life into disarray with two words: "Not dead." This year, there are more surprises in store.

An Interpretation of Viewing Habits by akitsuko (E, 6,653 w., 1 Ch. || Porn Watching, Masturbation, Anal, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fantasizing, John in Denial / Internalized Homophobia, Bottomlock, Pining Idiots, Sherlock Has No Boundaries, Cockblocking Sherlock) – John watches porn. It's a perfectly normal thing to do.If every video he watches happens to feature actors with remarkable physical similarities to his flatmate, well, that's no one's business but his own. Or: John is in denial, until his infatuation with Sherlock is impossible to deny anymore.

BANG by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 7,016 w., 3 Ch. || Post-TGG AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Worried / Scared Sherlock, Alternating POV, Whump, Hospital Recovery, Open Ending) – 'I should warn you,' Sherlock says, his voice steady and his eyes fixed on Moriarty. 'You are sadly misinformed.' And he fires. Prequel to M Is For Moriarty

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5, 798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalize Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Shuteye Shenanigans by Ayakae (K+, 13,263 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Epic Bromance, John’s Nightmares, Angsty Fluff, Bed Sharing, Humour, Cuddles, Taking Care of Each Other, Domestics) – John Watson has never slept with Sherlock Holmes. Never ever ever. And never will, thank you very much. Well, there was that one time, but John didn't count that. It was completely different, just like the second time it happened. And the third. And the fourth. Epic bromance, but it can be read as pre-slash if you wish.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination?, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.

To Mend Icarus by AlessNox (T, 28,347 w., 14 Ch. || Post-TRF / Pre-S3 Divergence, BAMF John, Anger, Fighting, Sex, Bed Sharing, Stalking, Case Fic, John’s Past, Introspection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crime, Mythology, Darkness) – After a case lands John Watson in court, he tells Sherlock that he is leaving. Not understanding why, Sherlock decides that the only way to learn the truth is to investigate his flatmate, Dr. John Watson. Sherlock finds that coming back is not enough to fix all of the damage that he caused by leaving. A post Reichenbach, post reunion re-discovery fic.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

The Real Great Perfumers by shelleysprometheus (E, 45,355 w., 68 Ch. || Case Fic, Alternating POV, Gay Sherlock / Bi John, Canon Compliant with Divergence at TRF, Friends to Lovers, Oral / Anal, Pining, First Kiss / Time, Dev. Rel., Drugging, Body Worship, Bathing, Love Confessions, Travelling, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock, BJ’s, Alternating POV, Jealous John) – The case, this case. This extraordinary, fascinating, scintillating case. A house. Designed entirely by its eccentric owner, built by no less than five hundred expert tradesmen in the heart of Marrakesh. A house that had, seemingly not only driven its owner out, but also to his quite unpleasant death. And a perfumer, a chemist no less, the very thought of the secrets that house could reveal, would reveal was irresistible. Sherlock had to have this case ... and it seems, he also had to have John! Part 1 of the Forethought and Fire series

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets,  Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love,  Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock, John Separated From His Child) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w., 12 Ch. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[naminethewriter]

This Once And Never Again

My last entry for Dukeceit Week 2021 if finally done! I’m so happy I finished it 🥰 Thanks to @dukeceitweek for organizing this and thank you to everyone who read along, commented, reblogged and left tags, you are all amazing! 😍😍😍 Now I hope you enjoy this last story as well! 💛💚

Here on Ao3

Characters: Janus, Remus

Relationship: romantic Dukeceit

Rating: T

Words: 1,287

Summary: Why had he agreed to do this again? He should’ve just said no, it was a stupid plan anyway.

Janus fingers danced on the wheel nervously. The black gloves felt wrong on his hands. As did his hair stuffed under the also black beanie on his head. In general, he did not feel very comfortable in his current outfit. Or this car. A rental. Also black. Borrowed under a fake name and he had no intention of returning it to the dealer he had gotten it from. The sound of cars passing by in front of the small driveway he was parked in and the tap, tap, tap of his fingers on the wheel were the only noise. The radio was turned off, as were the lights and the engine. Appearing to be empty unless you took a closer look.

Janus checked his watch. Shouldn’t be long now. The make-up on his face was itchy. It felt uncomfortable and wrong, just like the clothes. Why had he agreed to do this again? He should’ve just said no, it was a stupid plan anyway. His eyes wandered back to his wrist. Not even a minute had passed. If Remus wasn’t here in the next 15 minutes, Janus was free to leave. But for now, he waited.

 Time seemed to move so slowly. Janus was usually calm even in stressful situations but this had his anxiety going wild. It really was a stupid plan. And an entirely unnecessary one to boot. It was only a few months, they’ve gone through worse! Literally! Remus had been gone for a year once. Granted they hadn’t been together then but still. Janus was nothing if not patient. His partner was anything but.

 A sound, from up above. Janus glanced out of the slightly open window but he couldn’t see anything unless he left the car. After all, the buildings to the sides of the small driveway were at least five floors high. Another sound. Another look at the watch. The timing matched. Clattering, then a thump as something landed in front of the car. Or rather: someone.

 Remus’ agility was still somewhat baffling to Janus. He had checked the walls beforehand, how Remus got down from one of the roofs without getting hurt was beyond him. His boyfriend stood up straight, dusted himself off before grinning at Janus who rolled his eyes in response. Remus looks have gotten even wilder over the last few months. His hair longer, not only on his head but on his face. The moustache was now part of a beard. Janus was not a fan. With a few quick steps, Remus was at the window.

 “Hey, danger noodle~” he singsonged while wiggling his eyebrows. Janus fixed him with an unimpressed stare.

 “Get in the back, I want out of these clothes as soon as possible.”

 “You haven’t seen me in four months and that’s the love I get?”

 “Yes, because you dragged me into your stupid plan, now go!” Janus hissed and closed the window. Remus pouted at him for a few more seconds, before he moved behind the car, opened the trunk and slipped inside. Once Janus was certain that he had closed the lid properly, he started the car and calmly drove onto the street, the sound of sirens in the background.

   The drive was thankfully quick and without incident. The couple police cars that crossed their way didn’t seem to find a reason to stop and check them. So after around 20 minutes, Janus pulled into a garage on the other edge of the small city. Once he exited the car, he checked that the shutter had closed properly behind him before he turned on the light and opened the trunk.

 “I really don’t know how you can act so stupid and still get so damn lucky,” Janus scolded his boyfriend, who grinned at him before climbing out.

 “I wish I knew, Jan-Jan! Then I could go and thank whoever made me so lucky that I have you in my life.” Remus delivered that awful, cheesy line with so much confidence, Janus almost forgot to be annoyed with him. Almost. Remus had moved closer, his face only inches from Janus’ own until he was pushed away, a black gloved hand on his cheek.

 “Shut up, you corny rat. I need to get out of this outfit.” Janus moved away, grabbing the bag that had been left by a door that led out of the garage and further into the building. He turned back around for a moment, hand already on the doorknob. “And you dear, need a shave.” Remus giggled and quickly followed his partner out of the room, turning off the light when he left. The rental remained, in a now empty garage, keys left in the ignition.

   It took Janus another 15 minutes to get out of the offending clothes, let down her hair and braid it, pick an outfit she liked from the few options she had packed, get the make-up covering her vitiligo off and decide to change the charm on her bracelet to indicate female pronouns. She felt so much better with a hat more her style, a loose blouse and knee-long skirt, slender shoes and her trusted yellow gloves. Once she was satisfied, she went to check on Remus.

 Her boyfriend was already dressed and shaven when she came in and frowned at himself in the mirror. And Janus had to agree, he almost looked worse than before. Without a hair left on his lower face and dressed in the trademark red shirt and white skinny jeans of his brother, Remus looked pretty bizarre. The only remaining difference between him and Roman was the wild hair. Remus’ eyes met Janus in the mirror.

 “I look gross.” Janus nodded.

 “But it was your plan, so no complaining.”

 “What’s the fun of it if I can’t?” Remus whined. His girlfriend sighed.

 “Just let me cut your hair so we can get out of here?”

 “Kisses first?”

 “Fine,” Janus sighed but she couldn’t deny how good it felt to feel Remus’ lips on her own again. Apparently he had also had the time to brush his teeth, a nice surprise. They simply stood there for a minute, locking lips but once Remus tried to get his tongue involved, Janus pulled back.

 “That’s enough. We have a long drive, let me finish your look.” Remus pouted but obliged, sitting down on a stool while Janus got out the scissors and electric razor. Janus worked in silence for a bit before commenting: “Roman is going to be so mad at you once he comes back from his trip.”

 “When’s that going to be?”

 “They planned to stay for five days, so three more.”

 “And he got Daddy, Nerdy Wolverine and Spiderling to come along?”

 “Yes and I don’t know how he managed that. I also don’t know how you convinced him that he should go on a ‘no technology camping trip’. And with perfect timing for your little stunt as well.” Remus grinned.

 “I don’t kiss and tell, Jannie, you know that.” Janus scoffed.

 “The less I know, the better, probably. But I brought Roman’s phone, wallet and perfume, so you should have no trouble convincing anyone that you’re him if we’re stopped.”

 “My, my, J-anus. Stealing my brother’s clothes and papers? You are so naughty~” Janus paused to hit him on the head lightly.

 “Just to be clear: this is the first and last time I help you break out of jail. When you get arrested next time, you’re on your own. And who in their right mind plans to break out in broad daylight?”

 “I got away with it, didn’t I?” Remus grinned.

 “We’re not home yet, don’t jinx it.”

 “Yeah, yeah. Love you, Jan.”

 “Love you, too, you idiot.”

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland - Lost kid

You seen those post where a couple goes shopping, the boy gets lost and the security guard calls the girl through the speaker because of her ‘misplaced kid’? Yeah, I did that, and I’m not sorry.

Plot: Tom and you spent your last weekend before going home in Disney World, and he turns out to be one of those boyfriends who end up in the ‘lost kids’ deparment. 

This is pure crack humor.

“You’re so slow” you whined, lacing your hand with Tom’s and tugging once more.

The cotton candy in your hand was slowly but surely becoming smaller with the passing hours, and even if you felt like you were going to be sick with so much sugar, you couldn’t let go of the sweet treat. After all, not every day you had the whole day off and you could spend it with him. You savoured the sensation of the sugar-spun could melting on your tongue once more, and raised your other hand to fiddle with the Minnie mouse headband perched on the crown of your head.

You didn’t look back, too engrossed gazing at everything around you, but Tom could only see you.

He half regretted not getting another pair of ears, thinking it was too cliché and boring to dress up as a matching couple. But one thing was seeing them on the posters or on strangers, and another was seeing them adorably resting on your head. He still had the robin hood’s shirt and the Nemo’s key-ring on his keys, so he was happy enough.

You tugged again at his wrist and it almost made him drop everything he was carrying. He scoffed and reorganized everything on his arms.

“I can’t walk any faster, Y/N” he chuckled, still fastening the pace. “You’ve loaded me like a mule”

Indeed, Tom wasn’t even recognizable from all the things he was carrying. He had insisted on carrying everything from the beginning, wanting to let you enjoy the day instead of going back to the car, which would take him a while to find. So in his arms stood two plushies of Crash and Eddie for Harry and Sam, a huge puzzle with more than 10000 pieces, all the flyers you had been taking from the different parts of the park, his own cotton candy and, if that wasn’t enough, a huge Olaf that the store manager had gifted him with, and that Tom had given to you.

Your face peeked from between the plushie and he swore he could be carrying the whole thing if he got to stare at it. Your cheeks were slightly sunburned from the day before and you had on a light lipstick you had bought. He smiled sweetly and reached across the Olaf to peck your lips. As soon as it started it was over, and you were once more hanging from his arm and pulling him around.

“Come on, it has to be around here” you kept moving forwards and looking around.

“I’m still not sure what we’re looking for”

“The – oh my god, it’s there! Tom. Tom!”

You kept saying his name and Tom’s heart grew significantly in his chest. As you walked towards whatever you had seen, Tom thought he wouldn’t have had his holidays any other way. You had come to visit the last day of his new project recording, and had surprised him in the best way. He still had to stay in America for two longs weeks, and without Harry or any of his friends around, it was being hard. Your idea had been to stay with him for two weeks and then go back to England to spend the holidays home; but then, Tom had surprised you by visiting Disney World in Orlando.

Your flight was Monday morning, and you still had one more day to stay in the wonderful city before leaving. Even if Tom wanted to go home more than anything, he didn’t think Disney World with you was so bad.

Tom walked past a bin and threw quickly the remains of his cotton candy and, without you noticing, at least half of the flyers you had given him. He was sure you could live without some of them – but he couldn’t keep going with his arms full. That left him with the puzzle bag, the smaller one with the twins’ gifts, and the huge Olaf. The short second of relief was cut short when he realized he couldn’t see you anymore. Blinking confused, he looked around and tried to search for the Minnie ears.

Only to discover, that he was surrounded by them.

“Hello, sir!” Tom turned to his right and saw a chubby man looking at him. He was wearing the staff uniform and some ridiculous fake moustache, that seemed to be part of some costume half done. “I’m going to have to ask you to step back. The show is about to start. And we’re reserving this area for shorter kids”

“Uh” Tom looked around, and as the guy said, the place was filled with kids; and his parents, who were even taller than Tom. “I’m just looking for –“

“If you would be so kind to accompany me, I can guide you to the back” he interrupted Tom. “There you can see the show too without getting into a kid’s line of view”

The man started walking without looking back, and Tom just stood on his place. Again, he looked around, going so far to even turn around. He was sure it had only been a few seconds, and you couldn’t even walk that fast to lose him in the crowd. He tried to think in what moment you had released his arm and kept walking as he looked through the crowd. Thousands of Minnie ears stared back at him, each one attached to a different person, and neither of them was you.

Tom felt an inch of anxiety initiating in his brain, and he gripped the Olaf close to him. He tried to think if you had said where you wanted to go, or where exactly he was. But he could only remember the damned Olaf’s face as he followed you without seeing anything.

“Sir, I think – have you heard me?” Michael, judging the tag he had on his jacket, was back and frowning in front of Tom. “I’m sorry, but this is a kid’s reserved area. You can’t be here”

“Yeah, I know. I’m – fuck, I’m sorry” Tom felt beads of sweat running down his neck. “I just – I – she was with me, a-and now I can’t find her? She can’t have gone too far, because it has only been a second. But she was right beside me, and –“

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had lost your kid, sir!” Michael took out of his pocket a small black radio and a comforting hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Can you tell me what she looks like? We have security cameras everywhere, we’re gonna find her”

Tom didn’t know if it was better to burst into tears or to scream his lungs out. He wanted to find you, and he knew enough to understand the longer it was the farther you would be. But there were some lines Tom wasn’t going to step by – as having his name known for losing his girlfriend in Disney World and needing help to find her.

He tried to convince himself that he was good and could find you without anyone’s help, even if he probably looked on the verge of tears.

“It’s not my kid” Tom explained, and if he could, he would have brought a hand to the back of his neck. “She’s my girlfriend”

Michael took his hand off Tom’s shoulder and emitted a soft ‘huh’, all the compassion leaving his eyes. He didn’t seem to recognize Tom, although it must have been hard since he was carrying the Olaf and a black basketball cap on his head.

“In that case, we can look for her together” Michael gave him a tight smile, clearly wanting Tom out of there before the show started. “If you accompany me, I can help –“

“No, it’s fine. I can do it on my own” Tom scoffed. He tried to return the smile, but it came out way to hesitant. He looked around once more, as if you were going to appear suddenly.

“If your girlfriend was here, she isn’t now, as my partners are asking everyone to leave this are. As I’ve asked you, sir” Michael chuckled dryly. “So, maybe you can keep looking for her in the adult’s area”

“I’ll just look around to check” Tom said, not too convinced. And, maybe, not wanting to admit that he was the one lost.

Michael’s eye shook dangerously, as if he was restraining himself from dragging Tom out himself. The first song of the show started, and some weird characters Tom hadn’t seen before walked out on the stage. Kids around him started shouting in excitement, and parents hoisted them up on his shoulders. Usually, the sight would have been sweet for Tom, but in that moment, it made him not see anything apart from Michael’s eye tick and the Minnie ears everywhere.

The beads of sweat turned on in cold sweat when Tom heard the characters calling out for the kids. He knew he couldn’t stay there much longer – but he also knew, he didn’t know where to go. He regretted just staring at you when you explained things and not wanting to carry a map himself. If he was being truthful, he was more worried about him than yourself.

“Sir, I really don’t want to call security” Michael talked again, his smile as fake as the Olaf on his arms. “If you would be so kind to accompany me, we can wait in the lost kids’ area for your girlfriend”

Tom scoffed at the thought and walked towards the exit without another glance to Michael. He could feel the staff guy boring holes into the back of his head as he dodged parents with their kids and got out of the kids’ area. He could almost hear your endless teasing if you had to pick him up from the lost children’s stand, and he wasn’t about to get through the embarrassment.

Besides, ahead of him were the holidays in his house, and his brothers would for sure hear the story. By the time he made it out of the crowd, he was determinated to search for you on his own. Even if Michael was still hot on his heels.

“Now, the lost –“

“I can manage fine on my own” Tom bit back, and he kind of sounded like an asshole. Not that Michael minded, as them an seemed to find the situation quite funny.

“Disney World is quite the big place, sir” Michael gave him a smug smirk. “I’m sure it would be easier for both you and your girlfriend if you came with me”

“No, she has to be around somewhere” Tom shifted the Olaf on his arms, and cursed at how ridiculous he looked with it. “It hasn’t been that long”

Tom didn’t let Michael talk anymore and turned his back on him, ignoring the smile on his face. It was as if he was screaming at him ‘stupid’ with capital letters. Maybe, if he hadn’t been smiling, Tom would have gone with him and listened to the logical part of his brain. Looking for you in the whole park could take him hours, considering that you didn’t move from your place. But that ‘Michael’ was still smirking behind him, and when Tom looked back, he raised a brow at him; as if he was challenging him to come back later.

He would not be coming back, Tom thought, as he hugged Olaf close to him and reached for his empty pocket to pick up his phone. His phone, the only thing you had been carrying after taking some photos because his was better than yours. That was probably on your bag along with the maps and the car keys.

Tom stopped and let his hand hanging midway. At least, he would not be looking at Michael when he came back.

-

If there was some kind of manual for being a girlfriend, you still had to get it. You mom always joked about how she got a book with ‘mom phrases’ when she had you, and that was in part why she always found what you were looking for. You guessed there had to be one for girlfriends too, one that you had still to get. Because you didn’t know what to do when you received a call from a stranger’s phone telling you that you had to come and pick your child. You had almost hang up, too busy trying to find Tom, when you had recognized his voice on the background screaming that he wasn’t a kid but a responsible adult.

And the sight in front of you was something new too.

Tom was sitting on a chair that was designed for small children who had to wait there until their parents could find them. He wasn’t the broadest, neither the biggest man you had met, but still it was quite funny seeing his whole body hunched over a yellow plastic table, with Olaf sitting by his right.

The kind man who had talked with you on the phone had received you on the entrance, showing you where Tom was; and then, he had left saying something about not being paid enough.

The place was empty, apart from Tom and the plushie. He didn’t notice when you came in or when Michael left, just kept focusing on his task. Which was colouring very, very carefully a picture of Cinderella, the mice and a big pumpkin. He had his tongue between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed and his whole body curled around the colouring sheet.

Without tearing your eyes from Tom, you took your phone out of your pocket and unlocked it with your fingerprint, pressing a few times the camera button to have proof of that day. You watched from the door as Tom stopped using the blue crayon and looked around for the next one, stopping with the orange half way to the paper when he finally noticed you.

It was hard to know if you could ever love someone as much as you loved that boy, who was in a children’s playroom colouring Cinderella with a huge Olaf by his side.

“I’m here to pick up my kid” you erupted into an awkward chuckle, barely containing the rest. Tom eyed you as you walked past the entrance and towards the small desk. “Seems like he is quite a baby still and has to hold always my hand”

“Well, maybe you ran off too quickly” Tom bit back, puffing out his cheeks and matching the whole childish place. You almost cooed. “I just stopped to throw something to the bin! Why did you leave me? I had – that man was super rude, Y/N. He treated me like some kind of toddler, he even offered me a juice box! And he left me here to wait for you – come on, this is like the paediatrician waiting room!”

“My poor baby” you kneeled besides him and cupped his cheek. Tom didn’t fight it, just trapped your hand between his shoulder and cheek.

You decided not to say anything about how Tom didn’t seem at all displeased colouring a children’s picture, or about the empty apple juice box on the opposite corner of the desk. Instead, you propped up on the edge of your feet and pressed your lips against his forehead. It wasn’t at all comfortable, but Tom wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, until you were in between his legs. From your crouched position, you were slightly taller than him; that was how small the chair was.

You gave the draw a side glance, noticing that Tom had done quite a good job. Not only he looked pretty invested in it, but he was also doing his best. The boy hid his face on the crook of your neck and hug you tightly.

“Please, don’t leave me ever again” Tom whined.

“Next time we can use one of those backpacks with a leash” you joked, and you felt Tom scoffing on your neck.

He let you go and quickly rose up from his position, looking around blushing. He had left his black baseball cap somewhere, and his curls scattered everywhere only gave him a more childish look. Even if he didn’t look at you, Tom offered you a hand to pull you up and mumbled something unintelligible.

“I think we can miss the rest of the day” you said. “What do so say about trying the hotel spa, and romantic dinner somewhere?”

“But – we have yet to see the main castle” Tom frowned, kicking himself for not remembering sooner where you wanted to go. “It’s not that late, we still have a few hours until they close”

“And lose you again? I prefer having you in a closed up space” you chuckled.

“It isn’t funny” Tom picked up the Olaf and the bags and began walking to the exit. “I could have been one of those people who get lost and are never found. I didn’t have my phone, you left me completely alone!”

“And here I thought you were a responsible famous actor around the world” you jogged behind him, quickly linking your arm around his.

“Just so you know, that doesn’t mean I have to have the perfect orientation”

You let your smile grow as Tom whined about the horrible treatment he had received from the staff, and he even assured you that the juice box wasn’t even that good; that he only had it because he hadn’t had anything to drink. And you shared a look with the puzzle bag, where your two bottles of water were.

All considered, as you spent another long thirty minutes trying to find the car, walking around the parking lot and pointing the remote control to random cars, you decided it had been the best day so far. Proof of that, was the crumpled unfinished draw of Cinderella that you intended to hang in your room for a really long time.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Holland/ Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@smilexcaptainx

@aikaterrina

@zalladane

@gypsystuf (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan  

[sxfiyxplz]

Party Favours

I just want to thank @pseudonymphet for the motivation for this one!

Tagged: @rita-tlr @fistmebuckyskywalker @little-red-22 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

Word count 2.2k

Warnings (angst kinda at the beginning???)

Disclaimer: everything written here is for FUN I have ZERO affiliation with Sebastian and anyone else written in this it’s FANFICTION!!!!!!

Summary: You have an argument with your boyfriend which you think has cost you your relationship. So you look find yourself looking elsewhere at a party.

You wasn’t an avid Halloween celebrator, but when Mackie had invited you to a charity halloween party, you was fucking living for it. Your week had just taken a turn for the worst, returning back home to your apartment after having a fight with your boyfriend. Yes okay couples have arguments, the best of them do you thought, but the way in which his shiny blue eyes that you adored turned cold when he told you to leave, you knew there wasn’t any chance you was going to come back from this anytime soon.

Having a relationship that was in the public eye was irritating for you to say the least. But the two of you tried to keep your relationship intimate and safe at home- that was the only way it seemed to work as you both had shared numerous on-screen relationships and rendezvouses.

Out of the two of you, you’d definitely been the relaxed one in the relationship, not letting tabloids get in your head especially if they tried to pair your man with another woman as they were supposedly seen together. You knew he would only ever want to come home to you and you was the exact same when it came to him. However, your boyfriend was the jealous protective type, which often led to the occasional disagreements, but the sweetest make ups throughout your time together. Things had lately turned sour though, and you often felt that constantly having to reassure your boyfriend that nothing ever going on between your male acquaintances just made him drift further apart from you.

It wasn’t until that night he invited you over for dinner he finally boiled over and let his jealousy get the better of him. You’d been away a few days, work had you in meetings for a new series you was guest to star in. It wasn’t anything big but when you received the text to come over when you landed home, you was excited to see the man you loved as a little way to celebrate the new job. However it didn’t take more then 30 minutes in his cosy apartment for the two of you being at logger heads over a Instagram story a cast mate had posted of the two of you and how you looked just a little too comfortable together. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was that sent you over the edge and had you spluttering tears and viscous words. Was it how calm he composed himself whilst lacing his words with venomous sarcasm? Or was it the fact that when he did see you with any other male counterpart, he couldn’t bare to even look at you as you saw his eyes shift as his brain churned out fake scenarios of your escapades without him by your side. Whatever it was it had you spinning on your heels, asking him what life was like being such a “jealous prick” making both of you freeze. You knew you hadn’t meant for your words to come out so distastefully, but at this point you wanted to break down and crawl back to the man you knew you loved and cared for, not the man that sat rigid on the couch digesting what exactly you had just called him. Before you even had time to turn around and beg for things to go back to normal he had told you that if that’s how you felt for you to leave and not bother looking back. Was that it? This was how the two of you was going to end your relationship? Was your relationship even over? You couldn’t comprehend what was happening as you turned to him, tears in your eyes demanding he take back what he said. But as you looked up at him his eyes also filled with tears, and it wasn’t anger or jealousy but the single concept of trust that lacked causing the whole ordeal. You knew you couldn’t fix whatever it was that had eaten away at your relationship, not in a night- sighing in defeat you turned grabbing your jacket and bags, closing the door behind you and not looking back.

Since that night, you’d pranced around your apartment, finishing at least 3 bottles of wine and a bottle of tequila, the special kind only to break out in emergencies, listening to your “sad girl anthems” playlist on repeat. The sorrows and self pity you had felt the night you cried yourself to sleep in a drunken state had just about disappeared as your phone pinged with a text from Anthony, giving you the address for tonight’s event. Saturday night, Halloween. You would be in the arms of the man you loved, yes loved, watching scary movies together in bed. Instead you stood alone in your apartment, lights dim (to get in the spooky mood of course) as you straightened your long dark frontal, admiring the view. For saying you had potentially just had a 2 year relationship end at the beginning of the week over a photograph of you and a co-star who definitely wasn’t your type, you really had to give it to yourself for your outfit. Your black dress was long but figure hugging, hair seamless, not a stray out of place and your lips and nails painted the perfect shade of red. Your eyes looked you up and down once more as you placed the dark chunky ring on your finger making you fall into deep thought on whether your boyfriend would be there, if you could still call him that. He’d always told you that if you both were ever to go out to a halloween party you’d both dress up as Morticia and Gomez Addams. He’d even joked that he would box dye his hair and shave so to only have the iconic moustache. You mentally cursed as you thought of how happy you’d be holding onto his arm, leaning into his strong build as the two of you went to this party tonight. Before you could think anymore your uber buzzed you out of your daydream. You needed yourself a Prince you told yourself, not a companion, as you stepped into the uber giving him the address. So that was what you went out to find.

The venue was stunning to say the least and was completely packed. Taking in your surroundings you had to admit Anthony had really pulled this off. You greeted all who you knew and made your way to the bar for a needed drink. Vodka sodas was the only thing you were drinking tonight seen as that’s what you started on back home. Your body began to sway with the music, getting head getting lost in whatever remix they had decided to blast through the speakers. You was in your own thoughts until a tap on your shoulder snapped you out of then. You turned around, reciprocating two huge grins staring at you. Anthony and Sebastian. Sebastian. You and Anthony had been friends before the fame, seeing him as the older brother you always wanted. Sebastian however was a different story. Although you remained friendly, others often told you both before and after getting a boyfriend that the two of you had a spark. There was always a sparkle in Sebastians eyes when he looked at you, a touch always lingered, a hug always tightened- all three apparent as he swung both arms around you before Anthony even got the chance to greet you.

“The other half still acting bitter about your fight?” Mackie asked, not beating around the bush. You sighed and shrugged. Was he still your other half?

“Wait you two had a fight? How did I not know this?” Seb asked looking between the two of you confused as to why he hadn’t been told about the domestic. Sebastian had always been fond of your relationship, the moment you and your boyfriend got together he would often make comments on how lucky he was to have you and how he was so happy to see you content. You shrugged again, not wanting to let your emotions overtake you tonight, so ordered tequila shots for the boys, somehow exempting yourself from the liquor by shaking your half full class of vodka soda at the two of them. Conversing with the two of them helped pass the time and before you knew it Anthony had left you and Sebastian the bar together. The conversation began to drift and you found yourself thinking of him, the man you was crazy in love with on Monday. Now you was nursing a drink wishing he was at your side.

“You know you don’t need your Gomez by your side to look hot as you do right now.” Sebastian said softly into your ear, scooting closer to you to the point his body was pressed across your back. He caressed your right cheek and turned it to face him, taking you all in with a smirk. “Maybe you just need a charming unorthodox Prince Charming to make you smile.”

“You’re a prince?” You almost laughed in his face shooting him a puzzled look. Yes his outfit was adorable, the blue waistcoat with gold with his hair somewhat groomed and beige bottoms were adorable, but you really had no clue who he had come dressed as.

“Seriously? Can’t you tell who I am?” He gave you a slow twirl, acting like that made all the difference to his outfit. “Oh my God I’m Flynn! Tangled? Come on!” He exclaimed, still shocked you only just clocked on to who he was talking about.

“You should have kept the hot blonde you’ve been dating around a little longer and maybe your outfit would have made more sense” you winked but he laughed you off, clearly she was no longer flavour of the month for your friend. Not wanting to leave Sebastian alone as the music pulled you to the dance floor you locked your fingers in his and dragged him down with you, making your way into the middle of the crowded dance floor. It was almost on instinct the two of you laced your fingers to rest on his neck and his perch at the bottom of your back. Even though it wasn’t a slow song, you swayed in his grip, slowly moving closer loosening up a little making him grin at you. Your thumb ran circles on the back of his neck as your now free hand brushed his sorry attempt of curtains out of his eyes.

“You know what. You look hot as a prince” you smirked up at him, carrying on what you knew would be an ongoing inside joke between the two of you from now on.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe” you lied. Although you wish you were so to at least have an excuse if the small space between the two of your lips miraculously decided to close. Did you want to kiss Sebastian? absolutely- there was no questioning the chemistry that the two of you were radiating, but his hand snaking further down your back to grab your ass definitely didn’t help. The sensations he was sending through you drove you insane. The two vodka sodas didn’t stand a chance to intoxicate you when you could feel the heat of Sebastians breath on your neck as you dug your hips closer to him as the music blared through the both of you.

“People are gonna stare” he whispered which made you erupt in laughter. Did you really care? No not really. The argument between you and your boyfriend had cut deep. Even though the reason for the spat was somewhat a blur at this point, he hadn’t make you feel the way you currently was feeling in a long time. You could feel your body vibrate from head to toe whilst being under Sebastians touch. Although you tried your hardest to jump out of the trance Sebastian had got you under you were attached to his waist, swaying your body as he squeezed your hips whilst you continued to dance.

“You done babysitting my girlfriend now?” A voice asked, loud and agitated. You knew the voice like it was sent from out of heaven, sending shivers down your spine and leaving goosebumps all over your body. There he was, stood by in a black suit, hair slicked back with a side part. Although he hasn’t box dyed his hair it was heavily gelled and he’d even shaved his beard leaving only his moustache neatly trimmed. Both your eyes were fixated on each other. You wasn’t quite sure whether it was the adrenaline of seeing him again since you’d last parted or the fact your body had been riled up by Sebastian, but all you wanted to do was grab his face and kiss him. If you did you knew the first thing to split would be your dress as you latch your legs around his torso. Then you’d have your fingers locked into his hair as you devour his pink pouting lips. Sebastians moving hand snapped you out of your daydream, as you saw your boyfriends brows begin to frown at his actions. He froze a little as he watched his own friend pull you into his grip, something he would do to you as his girlfriend. Had he lost you already?

“Chris” you blurted, making him now jump out of his own trance, “what are you doing here?”

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Reviews: The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers/A Day at the Aquarium

Last full episode before hiatus! The Kids have a sleepover in the castle that starts like the Princess Diaries 2 and ends in unspeakable horror, while the Plantars try to spend one final day together without getting sad. Sort of like everyone these days without the final part. One last ride under the cut. 

Whelp it’s the end for this batch of episodes which is sad, and i’ll genuinely miss covering these every week. Yeah I have other coverage incoming with Ducktales coming back, eeeee, and current Loud House coverage.. but it was still nice to have something to cover this summer and something to watch every week during this blighted year, as i’ve mentioned before there weren’t any BAD episodes just hard to cover ones and I think by the end I figured out how to do that.. mostly by stopping straight up recaps for more condensed ones. Point is I had fun, grew as a reviewer, and it was a good way to kill a few saturdays, sundays and one or two mondays, and that ain’t bad at all. So before we come back for halloween, let’s send off weekly amphibia coverage in style for now, unless it comes back in November and I look stupid, with this week. Let’s go. 

The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers

Well this one took a turn. It was also an excellent one as we got more insight into Marcy and Anne’s friendship with Sasha, and some truly excellent horror. Yes, horror.  The Plantar kids head to the castle for the evening for a Sleepover. Turns out the king finally did find something, as did Marcy who’s playing coy about what they found in the hidden library I forgot to mention last time because I was covering 4 episodes at once. Anyway King Keith David has a meeting with them tommorow. So the kids are staying with Marcie to have a fun night together while Hop Pop has a night without the kids to get something head to toe.. it’s better not to ask. They also annoy Olivia who goes off to drink.. juice. Yes the hard juice that comes with a lemon wedge and speedoed servant newt. 

It’s also our ambigously gay duo’s first sleepover without Sasha, but their confident they can do this themselves while Sprig is hoping i’tll be good as his first sleepover (And has a creepy closeup about formative memories) Cue a fun montage of everryone annoying olivia and getting into hyjinks round the castle from sillys tring, which is shot from critters, to painting moustaches. It’s fun stuff.  Then we go from fun stuff to...

As , in order to stay awake, as being the bastion of pleasantness she is Sasha refused to let them sleep till sunrise, Marcy and Anne initate a SCARE DARE! A SCARE DARE! is a scary dare where the person who dosen’t complete it goes in the book of losers. Which of course was Sasha’s idea, both in general concept and the dares done. What a well adjusted young lady!  So naturally our heroes go into the basment they were told to stay out of. They get pass Lady Olvia because she’s passed out drunk on hard lemonade, living the dream as it were. ,Anyway they.  find a bunch of tombstones, and then Marcy and Anne taking a selfie (Say desecration) wakes the dead... all because they were both playing chicken. One has to imagine how the kids talking with hop pop would go

So yeah the ghostly horror terrors chase the kids, who somehow end up in Marcy’s room. So she just has a passage from a floating graveyard contaning horrifying eldtirch ghosts to her room.. a room the king put in for her. Someone protect this child. 

So our heroes soon have to deal with the ghosts but luckily sprig’s mirror catching it reveals the mirrors, which were foreshadowed earlier by a hall of mirrors leading into the corpse room, making the ghosts solid and allowing our heroes to fight htem back. Our heroes are exausted, Marcy and Anne reveal that they also chickend out on the scare dare so it’s okay, and Oliva arrives. It’s go time.  Final Thoughts: A fun episode that quickly pivots into a great and nightmare inducing one perfect for spooky season coming up soon. I do generally wonder just WHAT those things are, and it’s great setup for whatever’s abotu to come. And while I didn’t mention it in the recap we also get sprig finding some sort of painting and it being of the king, a toad and a frog.. we don’t get to see it clearly so it could be someone else.. but.. it’s clear the king likely has ties to what happened before. But what DID happen before? what are those ghost things? what’s the king’s angle? 

Yeah I have no answers for now on what the king’s plan is, or how inocent he is or if that’s his dad, just that something’s clearly wrong. And the omonious chess metaphor told us that.. yeah I do think that bit was kind of a mistake as otherwise while we’d probably still question the king, we would be more conflicted as evidence piled up versus “yeah something’s clearly wrong. “ Then again we genuiely don’t know what his motives or plan is or how well intentioned he is or anything other than he SEEMS nice, and that said game could be a necessary evil for all we know. We just don’t have enough information, even with the ominus bits, to truly know what’s going on and what kind of villian the king is. If he is one at all the show could pull a massive swerve on us.. I mean I doubt it he probably is evil, but I wouldn’t put it past the show. For now let’s move on so I can do more wheel spinning and what not...

Day at the Aquarium

So it’s time for another audience with the king. Turns out he and Mar-mar found out a LOT. Or Marcy did at least, as the above makes clear the king may of known ALL OF THIS already, and just needed Marcy and Anne to think he didn’t long enough for his evil plans. But we do learn a LOT about the gems, the box, and what it does as well as how to fix it... 

So let’s not waste time since some of you probably don’t have episode acess this early and want to know: Turns out the calamity box is an interdimensional travel device, and, as far as the king tells us anyway, the king’s ancestors went around from world to world as explorers, possibly the group seen in the picture and just as likely the king himself hiding his role in things. Now how much of the explorer part is TRUE remains up in the air, especially since history also painted Columbus an explorer, including when I was in school, and not you know.. an idiot and a colonizing bastard. History is written by the winners after all so it’s hard to know what’s true, only that the book is likely real: While the king COULD’VE planted it to lead marcy, or had one made up, a fake would’ve been spotted immeditly as we’ve established Marcy is a master detective with batman level deductive skills. Or Elongated Man but I wanted most of you to get the refrence and his adaptation versoins so far haven’t been the kindest to ralph. Anyways, point is that con wouldn’t work on her so the book IS real, as is it’s info on the box.. i’ts just hard to tell what was left out or if this was written before utter diastaer and apocalypse insued. After all Gravity Falls Journal 3 is all fine and dandy about bill before the giant passage about bill not being trusted written in blood and Ford going into a paranoid tailspin after realizing his friend is actually a horrifing monster, literally and figuratively, so we don’t know WHAT could’ve been hidden in a nother book the king could’ve removed at any time before  Marcy got there or while she was away on a mission.  But yeah while we know there’s probably more to it this is sitll big information, the box connecting to 4 other worlds other than amphibia, which not only opens up the story possiblities but the fan fiction, and that each of the gems can be recharged at three temples, each one of the gems responding to a diffrent trait judging by the symbols, each representing our girls; Purple is strength, and thus sasha, Blue is Heart, Anne, and Green is Brains, Marcy. I do like thisd as it tells us more but only raises further questions, hooking the audience more. It’s great stuff. But our heroines now have a goal.. but unforutnately the Plantars need to go back and Anne can’t go with as Marcy wants her close. It’s harvest season soon and the Plantars have been away long enough. So they have one last day, though both marcy and the king are apologetic and the king offers them a large tissue and upon getting no response just gives it to them as next time we see them with it. it’s both a great gag, and a nice show of kindess from the king and possible diabolical mastermind. 

So the Plantars decide to spend their final day with Anne at the aquarium, as it always cheered her up. This goes south as eveyrhting from the eels to the giant kraken to the coral reminds them of their past and leaves the poor group sobbing. Even a water show goes sideways as Sprig sees an eel, but it does lead to the group fighting off the stingrays at the show in an utterly stunning fight sequence. Not the best i’ve seen this month.. but only because I binged what I missed of rise of the tmnt this month and that show’s final figh tis an utter showstopper, as are most of it’s fight, but this is easily on par with most of them. Fluid, well done and emotoinal. Our heroes get thrown out of course, but the thought counts and they decide one last throughly them memory is better than nothing.  The final scene is naturally an utter gut punch as we get tearfull goodbyes (sprig and anne forever). Their crying, i’m crying we’re all crying and Hop Pop promises they’ll see each other again. Because family always finds each other. My heart.. it’s too full. here have an apporiate song...

Let’s see how i’m doing. 

Yeah so two things: I’m not going to be able to stop sobbing thinking of this scene so let’s move on and how have I only NOW refrenced gilmore girls on this blog?

But yeah the scene is utterly moving as the Plantars leave and Marcy realises something. She likely was keeping Anne close because she just got her back... but realizes she’s being selfish. It’s not SAID on screen but it’s clear both in Hailey’s voice acting and from the animation what’s going through her head. It’s utterly captivating stuff. So she tells Anne to go with them.. offically because they should have someone they can trust keep an eye on the box, which is a good idea honestly given just giving it to a royal messenger is just asking for it to be stolen. So Marcy will stay behind and prepare, and since she mentioned it before likekly try to find Sasha as she earlier stated they HAVE to find her.. and given what we see with the recharging that’s both because she misses her friend no matter what she’s done, and because she’s vitally important, while Anne goes with the Plantars to get the box and have some more time before they say goodbye forever, with Marcy coming to wartwood to pick it and anne up for the first temple. Because nothing terrible’s ever happened when a plucky youth with a sword went to three seperate temples, especially involving a guy with a beard and full plate armor. 

Marcy stares off, sad her friend and possible crush is gone.. but unederstanding that this is what she needs, and that she can’t hold her here.. Anne needs to see her family off.. and we get a tearful reunion as Anne chases after them, passing her friends from “Scavenger Hunt”, and reunites with her family. But of course we can’t end on a happy moment, as we cut back to Marcy whose utterly sad.. and the King who says he has a proposition for her, one she’ll find most agreable. 

But yeah we end on that bit of ominus as we close till october. 

Final Thoughts: Yeah if it wasn’t obvious this was a great one. Great plot progression, great animation, great emotional hook, good jokes which I dind’t get into for time, and tons of stuff to leave fans wanting more just before the break, but without a HUGE cliffhanger. Sure we don’t know what the King’s planning, but that aside our heroes are still together outside of marcy, and we haave a lot to look forward to whenever the show gets back. I’m hyped. Your hyped. IT’s a good note to go out on, especially since last weeks eps were also excellent and it looks like things are about to pick up. When next we meet it’s an inconsequential, probably, anthology episode, though it should be fun, then whenever new episodes return, wether it be just in november or more likely in February, our heroes return to wartwood! And we’ll find out what everyone’s been up to. Hopefully Ivy didn’t leave sprig. We’ll see. Until then, you can check out this blog for more recaps, as I said i’m covering ducktales as it comes back monday and loud house whenever I can get my meat hooks on the new episodes, and until then say safe and go team venture!

[regardingseas]

Ttile: Echoed Vexations (Part One, part two linked)

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Rating: Teen and up audiences (violence warning)

AO3: here! (Full story at once)

•••

Plot Summary:

It's all too easy to turn a blind eye to the past-- to believe that because someone has been shielded from harm's way, they should no longer fear the wrath of their opponent's creed. They're safe now, after all, so why would they..?

Yes, Scar and Cub are certainly "safe", but they're still haunted by memories of the Vex and their deals all the same.

OR

An average afternoon during the HCB Base Swap is cut short when Mumbo accidentally digs up a remnant from Scar's Vex partnership days, and unfortunately for the town's mayor, the other Hermit is far from aware just how triggering the topic can truly be. Things only dissolve from there, and in the end, Grian lends a helping hand to console a friend.

•••

Additional Content Warnings:

Depictions of trauma disorders, panic attacks, flashbacks, paranoid thoughts/delusions, manipulation, gaslighting, threats, injury, and violence. Mentions of religious themes, unintentional self-harm, and non-permanent character death.

Do be careful, but otherwise, enjoy!

•••

The sun was still high in the sky even as Scar finished decorating the monument's support chains, sweltering rays beaming down and adding to the oppressive humidity of the jungle around him. With his usual jacket set aside to fight the heat, he wiped away the beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead and grabbed a stray bucket from the sidelines. He'd nearly finished the waterfall aspect of the design-- crystal blue streams cascading over the edges of four white spanners, all joining together in the octagonal pool at the base's foundation. It was looking quite spectacular, if he were to say so himself, with the vine-coiled braces and additional water currents tying the otherwise juxtaposing themes together nicely.

Scar scooped up a fresh pail of water, filling it to the brim and hauling it towards the last pillar. He glanced down at the container as he carried it, catching a glimpse of his reflection from the liquid inside. His face shone red with effort, misplaced strands of hair having clung themselves to his tan skin.

Though unsurprised, he still couldn't help but laugh at the rippling image. "It's just my luck I'd swap with another jungle dwelling Hermit. I swear, I can never escape this climate for long. First the island last year, then all this."

With a shake of his head he returned his gaze upwards, continuing to muse aloud to the landscape before him, "You tropics are wonderful and all, but it sure would've been a nice change of pace to set up camp in somewhere like the mountains. Or pull total 180 and have landed in the tundras!"

Concepts for each design raced through his head, each idea fighting the others for dominance and tacking details onto itself, trying to land its place on the metaphorical pedestal of his imagination. A cottage with medieval influences? No, that would be far too typical, amp both of those components up. An entire village with a steampunk driven aesthetic, built into the mountainscape itself; no doubt with custom terraforming to integrate the buildings into the natural environment. That was more like it.

Scar could envision working windmills and waterwheels accompanying purposefully makeshift farmlands, historic blimps having reclaimed skies where they'd soar high overhead. Below them, eye-catching pops of colour, shining through as floating lanterns that hover above connective rope bridges.

As for the arctic concept? Something more grand would be ideal. In his fantasy, he'd created an absolute oxymoron of the words cabin and mansion jumbled together, and he adored it that way. A bottom floor made of bricked stone, the top made of logs and large windows to oversee the view. Accompanying them in the same manner would be a balcony, propped on columns that hugged the building and curved around its corners. The top deck would be open for clear days, and the space below it safe on harsher ones. Sloped roofs would be adorned with chimneys, and the interior warmed by cozy flames that were kept organized with inviting lofts. The living area could be split leveled, sinking down to create its own margin where guests could comfortably gather by the fireplace and--

There was a tug at his ankle, and next thing he knew, a bemused Scar went crashing to the ground, having been too caught up to notice the trailing plants blocking his footway. His hands shot out to catch himself, palms scraping against the concrete floor in a way similar to the childhood stunt of crashing and burning on the pavement. A stinging snapped up his arms, and the water bucket dropped from his grasp, clattering down with a metallic rumble before spilling its contents across the floor.

Scar pushed himself upright with a hiss of air through his teeth, shaking off his grazed palms and wiping them on his jeans. Pulling his foot free from the greenery and gathering himself up was no problem, what was a problem, however, was the troubling sight now before him.

The water had spilled all over one of Mumbo's redstone contraptions, causing the device to short circuit and emit a sort of maroon-grey smoke. The wires fashioned from the compacted dust had been all but washed away, any remaining pieces hanging on by threads and failing miserably whenever a signal attempted to fire; more so sizzling rather than surging alight with energy.

"Oh, crud!" he shouted, racing towards the machine and yanking on the shut-off switch to divert any further input from the broken setup.

It powered down, but Scar was still left swatting the coloured smoke from his face, coughing as the scent of burnt metallics filled his nostrils. When had he gotten so absorbed in possible building opportunities that he'd managed to miss the foliage in front of him? Why had he even been wondering so deeply about it, anyway? This event was about improving one another's bases by adding their own personal touches, not starting a new project entirely.

Scar sighed, he wasn't sure why his mind had begun drifting so far. He'd like to blame it on the wild imagination of a builder, but he had a feeling there was a little more to it. Sometimes, when the world wasn't too much to handle, it was too easy to let fall away. Maybe he spent too much time daydreaming-- he was sure there was a word for that, when trances became so all encompassing, so engrossing.

"But I don't have time to think about that right now," he reminded himself, "I really need to fix this. It doesn't look like most of this redstone is salvageable, I'll have to get new supplies to repair it. Maybe some of the circuits are okay..?"

Scar nudged a repeater with his shoe, the device making an unnatural sloshing noise in his attempt to change the feed-in. He scrunched up his nose, "Okay, nope, gonna need to replace that, too."

Running a hand through his hair in defeat, he glanced towards Mumbo's storage system before shaking his head. It wouldn't be right to use the other man's supplies without asking, let alone waste them on a mistake made due to Scar's own carelessness. He'd have to make his way back to his original base and gather the materials from there once more. When he dropped by initially, he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, but apparently hadn't accounted for dissociation-induced redstone mishaps.

"I guess we're making a trip back," Scar announced to no one, finally picking up the empty bucket to set it safely aside. He made his way over to his tent, temporarily discarding any excess materials and bidding adieu to Jellie before grabbing his elytra and setting off.

Taking to the skies, Scar squinted against the wind as it roared in his ears. His hair parted itself from where it had stuck, short locks brushed back by the flowing breeze. With arms extended for balance, and maybe a dash of amusement, he lit his rockets and propelled himself into the distance.

-----

It wasn't long before he encroached on his base again, allowing his faux wings to glide him downward where he kicked out his legs to come to a soft landing. Scar stopped before the massive drill site just on the outskirts of the forest, heading towards the agglomeration of crates and boxes he had haphazardly stowed aside. He was certain there had to be the necessary hardware in one of the many containers, though which that may be was lost on him. At least, thanks to Mumbo and his new storage system, the chest monster he'd created would soon be a thing of the past.

"I wonder how that's going for him..." Scar pondered, striding over to a random shulker and beginning his sure-to-be protracted search.

"Scar?" a familiar voice interrupted, making him peer ahead to see the moustached man himself rounding the corner. "Hello there! I see you've made yourself rather at home at my base," Mumbo teased.

He couldn't help but chuckle, "That I have. I just needed to stop by and pick up some redstone and iron. With all the ore this place has quarried up, I was sure there's bound to be more of that here than back at Larry."

Mumbo faked surprise with a hearty grin, "Getting into mechanics, are we? Have the inner workings of the temple really had that much influence on you after only a few days?"

"Now I wouldn't say that," Scar shook his head and closed the lid of the grey shulker, seeing no point in hiding the truth. "I took a tumble holding a bucket of water and it kinda spilled on one of the contraptions. I'm sorry for the trouble-- but don't worry! I came here to fix it right up. I just didn't wanna waste your materials fixing my silly error."

The suited man waved his hand dismissively, "Nonsense, it's no trouble. Have you seen the improvements you've made to that place? I mean, of course you've seen them, you built them, but rhetorically speaking--" Mumbo cleared his throat, "Just don't fret over it, I trust that you'll have it fixed right up in no time."

Scar smiled, "Thanks, dude. Now I just have to find where on Earth I put those ore…"

Mumbo gave another laugh, "You know, you can feel free to use some of my things if need be. I have no idea how you expect to find anything in this mess. I'm only trying to do a basic look through so I know where to begin when it comes to the item sorter, but even that doesn't seem to do much good. I swear, it's like trying to play a very intense game of memory, with thousands of nonsensical cards all scattered about."

Scar snickered sheepishly at the comparison, "Yeah, no kidding. But being able to use some resources without flying all the way over here would be great. Thanks again, Mumbo. I don't know if there's anything you'll need here while working, but hey, consider it free range. We're doing these things for each other in the long run, anyway."

"I'd say, 'unless we don't switch back our deeds', but in all honesty? I'm beginning to miss the ol' living monument already."

The two exchange a chuckle before returning to their previous tasks, both going back to digging through the pile of chests in preparation for their projects.

It took longer than Scar wanted to admit to finally find the crate stocked with valuables-- sighing in relief at the sight and immediately beginning to pile the items into his inventory. There were pre-smelted metals from an iron farm, so he didn't have to bother with the ore, and the redstone he'd gathered was already in dust from, meaning all he'd have to do was craft the items after returning.

"I wonder if it would've been easier to stop by the shopping district and buy these directly, instead of making them by hand..." he said, "Oh well, saves on diamonds, and these had to be used some time, I guess."

"Talking to yourself over there?" Mumbo asked.

"Just thinking aloud is all."

"I see," the moustached man nodded, pushing himself up from where he'd been examining the supplies. "I found something neat from last year! Do you wanna see?"

"Sure!" Scar agreed, setting aside his intent of flying back in favour of seeing what it was Mumbo had to show him.

He smiled and stepped over to Scar, holding out a faded piece of paper for them both to see, "I found it stuck to the bottom of a shulker box! Can you believe we used to be competition so recently?" He joked.

Scar could only stare at the advert before him, a steele blue page embellished with a vault-like ring in the center. It meant nothing to the untrained eye, but to him, all of the company's horrors were sealed underneath. ConCorp read bold text in half-connected lettering, the logo finalizing its signature with a black bow tie adorning the bottom.

"Hardly," managed Scar, having just remembered he'd been asked a question, "But it wasn't that recent."

"It was practically yesterday if we're talking business," Mumbo snickered, "but we aren't. I'm not very good at business."

"Me neither, I prefer mayorship," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

Mumbo, however, didn't seem to notice, only turning to stare at Scar with eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? You were quite literally the richest Hermit of all last year! You're wonderful at business. Sahara was amazing, and I don't for a second doubt it was the most ambitious project of our group to date, but she had plenty of bugs, being the machine powered industry that she was. ConCorp, however? That was an utter monopoly! The thing lasted two bloody seasons!"

Scar chuckled awkwardly, "I know, I know, Cub and I worked very hard. But it wasn't all us, we couldn't have done it alone."

"Give yourself more credit," Mumbo insisted, "I'm more than convinced you could have gotten your business up and running even without the help of your Vex friends. Weren't they less prominent in your company last year, anyway? You did change your guy's name from ConVex to ConCorp, after all. I think that would imply less input on their part."

"Not really," he explained, though the tension building in his body was becoming harder to conceal. He had to keep his arms rigid so that they wouldn't shake, forcing in deep breaths to avoid the shaky ones that threatened to take their place. "We just thought it would be better for business, rebranding to something more gentlemanly and all."

Mumbo nodded, "Ah, that makes sense. Though I still don't understand how you managed to work with them to begin with. I likely wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. I mean business partners with the Vex? Friends, even? How'd you do it? Not to mention why? With all due respect, what makes one seek that out?"

Scar blinked hard at the influx of questions, "Oh, it's- it's really complicated, you might not understand. Cub started it, though. I joined the team not long after, but I wasn't there when he first struck the deal with Them."

"Huh, some deal," Mumbo remarked thoughtfully, and Scar nodded.

He had no idea.

"So what made you leave that behind?" Mumbo continued.

"What?" he asked, finding his thoughts hazy. They were static nothingness, but somehow also crashing into his skull. He found himself having to dig his way through them, while at the same time trying to bury them once he passed. The last thing Scar wanted was to do was hark back to the Vex, to beckon forth Their memory with his own.

The other man simply chuckled, oblivious to Scar's inner turmoil. "ConCorp, the Vex. Did you two just get bored? Having done the same thing for too long?"

"In a sense, you could definitely say we were tired of it. It just- well, it wasn't what we wanted to do anymore. We wanted to move on to new things."

"That's fair enough. Do you blokes still get along? Or did they take the corporation's end like a sour breakup?"

This time, Scar couldn't contain his wince. "We're still friends!" he insisted, "Of course the Vex are my friends."

Mumbo finally quirked a brow, "Are you sure about that? You don't have to worry about hiding some burnt corporal bridges from me, I'm not here to judge."

"Oh yeah, I'm positive," he nodded eagerly, "I'm just- I'm gonna go work on fixing that contraption I damaged, best to get it fixed before we have to switch back."

"Buddy, are you sure everything's alright? I'm sorry if I upset you or anything."

"Nah, I'm just peachy!" Scar announced with far too much false enthusiasm, internally cringing at his failed masking abilities. Not allowing any more time for his ruse to be cracked, he uttered a quick goodbye before adjusting the straps on his elytra and dashing off, leaping into the air and back towards the ruins.

"Scar, wait!" Mumbo tried, but he was already gone.

------

The returning flight was far from the peaceful journey he'd made to the excitation site. His artificial wings beat frantically, struggling to keep up as he charged forward with excessive firepower. He paid no mind to the safety protocol regarding the rocket's cool-down period, simply heralding through the air as fast as his elytra would carry him. Scar arrived back to the monument in a trip overall much faster than when he'd left, but it seemed to drag on for an eternity. The entire excursion consisted of a battle with his own mind-- a war in which he knew he was bound to lose, but he had to hold down the fort until he was on solid ground.

Scar was lucky not to crash into the debris upon landing, frantically stumbling to the dirt and having to grasp onto a piece of wreckage to maintain his balance. His legs nearly buckled under his weight, form trembling in spite of the deep breaths he gave it his all to draw in.

He grasped hard to the rubble, trying to anchor his brain into focus. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral, he couldn't think about Them. He knew grounding techniques, and he tried to rush his way through them.

Five things you can see.

He could see the golden heart, plants, stone, the golden heart again-- the thing was too anatomically correct, he'd seen horrors too similar to it before. And the sound, it was too damn loud, too hard to ignore. Its unsteady rhythm hammering in his ears alongside his own faltering pulse.

Forget visuals, four different noises?

Scar squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to listen, focusing hard on the world around him. Still, he could only hear the heart. He could only hear it pounding, its once melodic notes like nails on a chalkboard. He could remember far too many times when he was left alone with nothing but his heartbeat and his pleas.

Tactile. Texture. What can you feel? Three things you can feel.

Internally, he screamed at his dulling senses to return. God, he didn't want to think about Them, it wasn't worth the risk. They'd been inside his head before, and the mere idea of having his thoughts broadcasted again made his stomach churn. Scar tried harder and harder to suppress the images bubbling to the surface, festering like maggots in an old wound. The more he tried to push them down, however, the fiercer they'd rise back up, and he choked down a sob in attempt to list the sensations he could currently identify.

He could feel the stone-- but he already said the stone, didn't he? He could also feel the sun. It was hot against his back. So hot. He was overheating.

The notes should have been a success, but the drops of sweat felt too akin to tricking blood. The sting of his hands felt too much like the friction burn of a rope. It felt too much like he was back with the Vex again, and as he finally sunk to the soil, he could no longer swim against the onslaught of memories crashing over him like a tidal wave.

They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still get him--

------

The day he and Cub first found the courage to try and cut ties with the Vex had been a hellish one, and the two men weren't even successful in their attempt. Hence, of course, it being the first.

Still, it had taken ages for Scar to persuade Cub that it was even worth trying, the other man having believed it was impossible to sneak anything past the Vex on their own. Scar was persistent, however, and eventually convinced his friend they had a shot if they played their cards right, if they made the right proposal without their intentions being discovered.

They'd constructed their plans in secret for weeks; discussing them only inside of untold locations with hushed whispers, or in the form of coded scrawls they'd burn immediately after reading. They couldn't be too careful, that's what they'd tell themselves whenever they worried their precautionary measures may be over the top. Even so, when a so-called conference was put on the schedule --such events were far from any type of cordial meeting, despite having been assigned the title of one-- the men were hardly prepared for it.

Their conference room consisted of a needlessly grandiose suite, with floors of marble and walls carved from deep umber wood. The polished lumber was adorned with expensive paintings in aureate frames; antique laden shelves taking up the spaces they did not. Aesthetically pleasing decorative tactics were discarded in favour of showing off their riches in a possessive cluster, with the only average items being the table and its chairs sat in the dead center of the area. A chandelier of gemstone and gold swung from above, dangling by the same chains fated to one day bind their vassals.

"Concordats, greetings!" A Vex declared as the men were led through the doorway, hovering in the air at the opposing end of the surface.

"Greetings," parroted Cub minimally, Scar giving a plain nod beside him. Fewer words meant less chance at letting their guard down.

"We've been needing to speak with you," a different Vex chimed.

"Speak with you about the business," yet another visitant confirmed.

"We actually need to discuss similar matters with you all," Scar noted, voice and expression a façade of tranquility.

"You do?" the first asked, wide smile replaced with inquiry.

"Yes," managed Cub, "we want to make you an offer, one you can't refuse."

"I do like the sound of that!" the second snickered.

"We'll hear your offer," the Vex grinned, "we only have one question first!"

"Of course, what is it?" asked Scar, in mental awe of how well their exchange was going.

"Do you recognize these?" it asked, gesturing towards the white table where a blue light flashed, fading away to reveal a small pile of ash.

Cub and Scar glanced to one another in evident confusion, the latter of the two speaking once again, "Forgive me, but we're not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, silly me!" the Vex giggled, another flash of luminesce encompassing the soot and leaving a stack of papers in its place. As if caught in a controlled gust, they blew from the surface and organized themselves midair; levitating in a cloud of magic.

All of their once burnt notes were lined up before them, cyphers needed to crack their messages included.

Still beaming with innocence, it continued, "How about now? Look familiar?"

The blood drained from their faces, and Scar could have sworn his heart was going to burst from his chest with how hard it was drumming. He wanted to wake up, because this had to be a nightmare.

"No, we have no idea what those are," he tried.

LAIR!

Overlapping voices screamed in his head, all sounding in haunting unison. Scar hastily clapped his hands over his ears, but it did nothing to silence the uproar emanating from within.

You try to break our contract then lie to our faces?

Foolish concordats.

Terrible secret keepers, terrible subjects.

Cub seized hold of Scar's arm and made a break for the door with the brunet in tow, reaching the exit and tugging desperately on the handles. They refused to turn under his grasp, and his eyes darted back towards the Vex; floating creatures growing ever closer to their imaginary bubble providing them with the illusion of safety.

More of Them were phasing in through walls, forms non-corporeal and having no need for the sealed entryway.

Apologize.

They all ordered, Scar flinching at the simultaneous projection. He lowered his hands and turned towards Them, watching Their unmoving grins with wide eyes.

Kneel before your gods and divulge your prayers, we may just show you mercy.

"I'm sorry-" Scar whimpered, but Cub was having none of it.

"No!" the man barked, "Screw this! This isn't worth it! None of this is worth it! He's right! The business, the money, the power, it-- it means nothing! Not when you treat us like this!"

They watched him step forward, his furious yells echoing through the expanse of the room, "We're done! And we mean it! You're going to get us go or else!"

An orchestra of shrill cackles filled the air.

Oooh, it's angry.

They're fighting back!

Teach them a lesson.

"You won't dare make another-" Cub's retaliation was cut short with a cry, the bearded man dropping to the ground in a swift crash.

"Cub!" Scar called, but his attempt to step towards his friend was met only with a searing pain through his legs and the subsequent buckling of his knees. He fell to the marble, limbs heavy as if they'd been weighted. It took considerable force to balance on his arms, appendages left shaking as he peered back up towards the Vex.

He regretted it instantly.

•••

(Part two)

[imnotwolverine]

The Englishman JACK - CHAP 4

< Chap 3 | Chap 4 Lady Things | Chap 5 >

Summary: When living in a man’s world, you need to know a woman’s worth.  

Author’s note: I wasn’t sure how I’d introduce Lucia. My initial draft made her too meak. So I hope it sort of works... 

Word count: 4813 (17 min. read)

Disclaimers: NSFW - Strong language, misogyny, lots of cigarettes, alcohol abuse, corporal punishment, mobsters, mystery

–

Lady Things

--

‘I tell you boy. It’s a ..marveilleuse..place!’ Jacques slurred. 

The once stoic man was giggling like a twelve year old boy in love, moustache curling at the edges. Jack grinned and tugged him along. 

Ever since the incident at the lunchroom a few weeks prior, Jacques had changed. Before then he was never late and ever precise. But meeting Stella had set something off. And though Jacques was still a very capable detective, there were moments he finally let loose. Like right now. 

With unsteady feet he and Jack crossed the cobbled road towards Madame Chartreuse. A small looking club with green shutters and bright red neon signs. The rain that had fallen an hour earlier, casted everything in a devilish hue, the whole world seemingly aflame with red delight. 

‘Is it just because she is here?’ Jack asked, eyes studying the stupidly grinning man hanging from his shoulder.

‘No no...there’s other...’ Jacques hiccupped. ‘Other reasons too.’  

Jack smiled. Indeed, there must be other reasons or they would have simply gone to the far more established Moulin Rouge.  

‘Well you take care of yourself old man.’ Jack tapped him on the shoulder as they halted before the doorman. Outside a few people were having their smokes, coats hanging from their shoulders. The streets here were far more quiet than the abundant area near the Moulin Rouge. And were it not for the silent passing footsteps of a couple passing, it would have been close to dead quiet. 

The doorman tilted his grubby face and with the exchange of a few words, coins and gauging looks, Jacques and Jack got inside the most well-kept secret of Paris. Madame Chartreuse had once been a home. And though Jack had never seen it when it had been an actual house, the vibe still clung to its happily wallpapered walls. 

The entrance hall was small but crowded, and smoke wrapped everything in a magical yellow mist. Live music and dancing feet were heard in the back, whereas the living room and reception room on the left were more merrily entertained by conversation and card games. Beaded curtains hung from the door frames and for a moment Jack wondered what the purpose was of such contraptions. It didn’t even manage to keep flies away if the flies were the size of a hand, so why bother? 

‘This way.’ Jacques said, pushing through one of said curtains, its glass beads clicking above the sound of soft chatter.  

‘Zja-zja!’ A woman jumped from her recline and before Jacques could respond, she was already on his lips. 

‘My dear.’ He grinned stupidly, blinking at her sudden closeness. 

‘I missed you so-so much.’ The woman pouted her painted pretty lips before she turned her dark brown eyes towards Jack. ‘And you brought a ..present?’ She smiled.  

‘Oh, yes. Couldn’t leave the poor bugger -’ 

‘My pleasure!’ She pushed her upturned hand towards Jack, who carefully pressed a kiss there. 

‘Likewise. Jack.’ 

‘Stella.’ 

Jack cleared his throat and looked around the room. Some ten people were lounging about on dark green couches and the whole atmosphere seemed to breathe the pure and utter eroticism of decay. The lights were low, but Jack saw the slight fraying of the wallpaper. The wear-down of the shut curtains. The slight crookedness of the lamp shades that dimmed the chandelier’s many, many lights. 

‘I’ve never seen you before.’ Stella said. With a tantalizing bite of the lip she looked down Jack’s physique. He was a good looking man with his square jaw, dark hair and crisp blue eyes. But he never seemed to be truly aware of it - or so it seemed. With a slight quirk of the eyebrow he questioned her intentions. 

‘And! You won’t need to see him again.’ Jacques interfered, using his large palm to turn her attention back to him. ‘Oh my dearest dear!’ 

‘Oh my Zja-zja!’ She cooed back. 

Before long Jack had lost interest in the lovebirds who started to french kiss each other like their life depended on it. With another clearing of his throat and a soft: ‘I’m going to look for some drinks,’ Jack moved to inspect the rest of the curious club. 

Back in the hallway, the entrancing strum of a jazzy bassline lured Jack in closer. The people here were crowding and the air was hot. A quick beat was introduced and a trumpet cheered; people started dancing and before Jack could escape he was dragged into the moving body of the young and merry. They didn’t have these type of parties in England; there the men would hang out in dungy bars, losing their nickles and dimes on shots with ladies hardly worth the time. 

Yet here. Here, there were ladies in abundance. Here the ladies were sweet and slick with sweat that drizzled down their provocatively deep-cut dresses. Here.. Jack hesitated as he stood amidst the dancing crowd. The upbeat drum became more hastened and everything seemed to swim. 

‘Jack..?’

The grabbing hands that slithered around his jacket felt like hooks, clutching to him like..

‘I’m going to die, huh?’ Harry’s lip shivered as he lay there amidst the many fallen men. The bloody fields of Hannut stank of piss and sweat and shit. And here lay Harry. His childhood friend. 

Jack gasped and looked around. The room and fields blurred into one indistinguishable mess of then and now. 

‘No.’ Jack started to shake his head, hands wanting to grab for Harry who somehow continued to remain out of reach. ‘..noo..no you won’t!’ Jack screamed as a rogue tear fell from his cheek. 

Suddenly he was back in the club, where people backed off like he wore the plague. The music hadn’t managed to drown out his heart wrenching sob and panicked cries, and were it not for the slightly muted lights, he surely would have seen the true terror in the eyes of the dancing crowd. 

Fuck. 

With hastened steps, Jack moved back to the hallway, ashamed of the way his heart still beat in agony. He had hoped that the liquor and ladies would soothe his aches, but his heart only screamed louder. Louder and louder and.. The drum returned like the drums on the fields. 

Oh gods. 

Gasping for breath he grasped onto the door that separated the dancing room from the hallway, where people were still giving him a few looks. 

He felt so terribly lost and broken. It was like the war had eaten a part of him and spit out a mere shell. A shell with pretty blue eyes. One that made women want and men wonder. It was this shell that had gotten him his job as boy-errand for Jacques. The good looks helped to get an in, and for many months Jack had just followed Jacques lead, hoping that with time he’d feel the ache of war wear off.

Those same many months he would lay sleepless in bed. Sweating and hoping, wishing, waiting that it would get better. 

Perhaps he just needed another drink. 

Turning to the left he entered a room with a long table. A low light hung just above it, washing milky light over hairy hands that moved poker chips back and forth. It was hard to see at first who these men were. Perhaps he shouldn’t have entered. But then there was also the intrigue.

With careful steps Jack moved around the table, watching as the men continued on, undisturbed. In the darker corners of the room were a few women as well. Their hazy eyes looked up at him, though they too seemed to care little for his presence. 

‘You!’ One of the man called and Jack swiftly turned heel. The stress of the war fell away as he noted who it was; the peculiar man from the bistro. What was his name again? Manari? Minaria? Jack moved closer and greeted the man without disturbing the others. 

Where the rest of the house was filled with conversation, here the room was hushed.  The only sounds were the swallowed sound of the music further up in the house, alongside the clicking of poker chips, the sucking on cigarettes and the mumbling of the men. 

‘Jack, wasn’t it?’ The man quirked an eyebrow at Jack, smiling. ‘Come sit down with me.’ 

Miniri? Maniri? Jack just couldn’t grasp the man’s name, and so he just did as requested. 

‘Luigi, your call.’ One of the other men nodded. 

Luigi, that was it. But what was his last name? Sinking down on the proferred seat, Jack unbuttoned his jacket and watched as Luigi moved coins to the mountainous stack in the middle. 

‘All in.’ 

The other men grumbled and snarled, but Luigi didn’t care. He just smiled and turned his frame to get a better look at Jack. 

‘You look like you can use a drink.’ 

‘Indeed.’ Jack breathed out. 

‘Madame!’ He snipped his fingers and a woman appeared from one of the dark corners. ‘Champagne please!’ 

Jack gasped. ‘Oh no, no. Some beer or..’ 

‘Eh!’ Luigi shushed him and grinned.

Jack frowned. ‘Why.. champagne is for celebrating and you have not even won!’ 

‘But I will! And if not..well..let us celebrate friendship.’ 

‘Friendship?’ 

‘Indeed. And if not..’ Luigi shrugged. 

Jack smiled and sniffled back the last of the tears that burned his eyes. Real men didn’t cry now, did they? 

‘Thank you.’ With a sigh he settled back in his chair. He was a little rattled by the trauma that had reared its ugly head just now, but Luigi’s ease was perfectly soothing. Even with this man being obviously a good many ranks above him in stature and earnings, he treated Jack like an equal. Or better yet.. a new friend. Jack cleared his thoughts and turned to Luigi as well. 

‘Seen that woman since?’ 

‘Her? No, no. Ha! But got a sweet deal out it with Delancour.’ 

Jack wondered for a moment what or who Delancour was, but he felt it inappropriate to ask. Why couldn’t he be as suave and amiable as these men? He felt so young in his years. Then again, he figured that he just really needed to practise before he could be like Jacques; fake it, until you make it, Jack-boy. 

‘A little tense there, huh?’ Luigi’s French-italian accent was funnily unnerving and Jack smiled, shaking his head. Just never fake your smiles. 

Jack sighed and nodded his head, watching as more and more men folded away their cards. ‘Just haven’t been out since the war.’ 

‘Ah, the war!’ Luigi smacked his lips and turned to reach for the filled champagne glasses that had appeared behind their backs. The pretty crystal cut goblets shone pretty spots of light on their arms as they toasted. ‘It’s like there’s no end to it!’

--

Jack’s stomach rumbled quietly, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to interfere. 

‘But you see my mother is not all bad.’ Luigi said, sitting in the window sill. Outside dusk had settled in over the Tuscan hills, and with every puff of Luigi’s cigarette, a new small cloud flew up in the pitch black dark. For a good many minutes the two men had conversed. Or better yet: Luigi had spoken about his peculiar mother, and Jack had listened. Sitting on the floor, with his back against the bed, he was rolling fresh cigarettes to smoke - he enjoyed those more than the factory made.

‘So free women are bad?’ Jack lit one of his freshly rolled cigarettes and looked through the smoke at Luigi. Luigi kept his face turned to the gardens outside. 

‘No. No. More like..’ Luigi shrugged. ‘You just don’t marry free women. You see Jack. There’s two types of women. The women that make your blood boil and cock hard. And the ones that soothe your pains and raise your flock. Can’t have both, never both.’ 

‘Might as well not have any women at all then, hmm?’ Jack grinned, allowing himself to sneak a peek at the key hole that was still far darker than it should be. Was he right? Was someone there? And if so, could he guess who? Sucking on his cigarette again he returned his attention to Luigi, who hastily looked away from him. 

‘Yea..yea. Women..’ Luigi cleared his throat and dragged a long breath from his near-finished cigarette. 

‘Do you..want a family though?’ Jack leaned into the bed and folded an arm over the neatly made bed. Luigi shrugged, keeping his eyes where Jack couldn’t see. 

‘And risk losing it all, again?’ A tinge of sadness crossed Luigi’s usually preppy and confident tone of voice. 

Jack sat up and stood to place a hand on Luigi’s shoulder. 

‘I’m sorry about Alfi, man. Truly. But we’ll find him.’

Luigi kept his head turned away, jaw tight. ‘It’s not that.’

Jack hesitated. With cautious eyes he watched Luigi stare out into the dark nothingness. A few silent moments followed, before Luigi finally, though testily continued. 

‘We’re cursed, that’s what. Every time good things happen for our business, another one of us bites the dust.’

Jack remained quiet. 

‘First it was Zazoo..’ Luigi sighed and flicked his cigarette out onto the terraces below. ‘It was our first big deal that brought us out of the shitter. He was..barely seventeen. Three bullets in the head. And then there was Paris.’

‘Paris?’ Jack asked. Luigi sighed again and offered a half-smile over his shoulder. 

‘Way before you and I met, English.’ 

‘Tell me.’

Luigi bit his lip and shook his head. ‘It was a mess. Father was sick for months. We needed the cash. We were all young boys, hardly capable. But family is family and business is business. We’d have a simple deal with another Italian family. Snip-snap hand in cash.’ Luigi flicked his wrists. ‘But instead it was snip-snap Piero is dead.’ 

Luigi spat out the window. 

‘You took care of that?’ 

Jack was near shocked to hear himself say it. But he knew what The Business was. And he had chosen to come here. Like a moth would come to a flame, even if it knew that it would burn. With a tight throat he watched Luigi’s lips curl in a thoughtful smile. 

‘Ever the detective.’ He said. 

Jack felt a cold shiver run up his spine as Luigi pushed himself off from the window sill. Suddenly the large man felt near threatening as he looked deep into Jack’s eyes. A silent second passed as Jack looked back, waiting for this to be the fire that would melt down his wings. 

But no. Luigi smiled, genuinely.  

‘To me you’re Jack though.’

Jack let out the softest of sighs, and Luigi took it for an invitation to pull his English friend in for another hug. 

‘There’s few like you Jack. Truly.’ Luigi backed away and cleared off invisible dust off Jack’s open hanging jacket. With admiring eyes he watched down Jack’s half-unbuttoned blouse, before he looked up. ‘So very few.’

Jack wasn’t sure what that meant. Italians always tended to be a bit more intense with relationships, so his friendship with Luigi left him at times a little unnerved. But then again, it was fine. Luigi was the man who had pretty much saved him from death by trauma. And he was the one who accidentally had introduced him to her. 

Lucia. 

--

There was something exhilarating about Paris after the war. After years of suffering and pain, people wanted to live. And they wanted to live hard. Jazzy pop and cigarettes filled the nightly skies. And if not working, Jack found himself more often than not in the company of either Jacques or Luigi. 

The two men were like fire and ice. Jacques was calculating and gentle. Luigi was fiery and extravagant. And now Jacques’ attention had turned towards his new lady-love Stella, Jack found himself more and more often in the company of Luigi. 

Luigi appeared to be a textbook style caricature of an Italian man. Or so Jack thought. He had the slicked back hair, well cut suit and sparkling, mischievous eyes. But there were also some elements that were perhaps just typically Luigi. Like the ever-present hands that smoothed around Jack’s shoulders and back. The resting gazes and tight pressed hugs. 

Perhaps it was just Luigi. 

Where was he anyways? 

Sucking on his cigarette, Jack looked around the fairylike-lit courtyard. People stood around under the glow of the lights smoking cigarettes, all huddled away in their coats. Spring had come a few weeks ago, but the nights were still chilly. 

Looking around in the half-dark, Jack could recognise a few faces, but not Luigi. He likely had found himself another type of entertainment. A lady perhaps? Who knew. 

Jack sighed and killed his burned out cigarette beneath his well-polished shoe. If not for Luigi, he sure could find some different entertainment, right? Turning to the party inside, he was soon back in the lavish palace-like home of Monsieur Martinique-de-Boncour. The old man was rich and cared little for high society, but apparently these type of parties did please his wife who now stood by the grand piano, singing some hardly bearable tunes. 

Turning to his right, Jack found himself in the lobby. People were mostly here in passing, couples all arm-to-arm as they either moved out for air, or to the backyard for love. Jack, however, was alone. 

‘Jack right?’ Another man stepped in. Wide-shouldered, but in fact no more than a boy. Jack turned on his heel and outstretched a welcoming hand.

‘Indeed. Pleasure to meet you, mister..’

‘Maniari. Big.’

‘Ah, I see. Family of Luigi, then?’

‘Indeed.’ The boy already had the smug look down, eyes studying Jack for a moment before his attention moved to a familiar face. Luigi, slightly deep in his cups came strutting into the room. By his side he had two lovely ladies, the two of them either just as drunk, or terribly enamoured. 

‘Family! Family!’ Luigi laughed before he noticed Jack. With a swaggering step Luigi freed himself from the ladies, two arms wrapping tightly around Jack. ‘And a friend!’ A wet kiss was pressed on Jack’s cheek. ‘Good! Where’s Alfi?’ 

‘Only God knows.’ Big sighed, reverting his attention back to the entertainment room where Mrs. Martinique-de-Boncour gave a rather shrieky rendition of Toute Le Jour, Toute La Nuit. 

Luigi wet his lips and let his eyes fall on a woman who passed by with an even more exaggerated swagger. With a wrinkly hand she grasped for a curtain, near dragging it down as she tried to steady herself. It was then she laughed, ridiculously hard. Even the crowd in the entertainment room by the door took a gander. 

‘Oh my..’ Luigi tutted and wrapped an arm around Jack’s wide shoulders. ‘Would you look at that.’

Jack felt the innate need to help the poor woman, but the men just stood there, chuckling. There was some type of distaste on their lips as they watched the woman struggle to get up on her old, but dainty feet. 

‘I am well! Please!’ The woman snarled as she was helped up by another woman who passed by. With a sharp tug the old woman righted herself, shoulders pushing back to take on a more confident mien. She wore an oriental type of dress. It stood out from the crowd of auburn and champagne frocks that most women wore. Like molting purple gemstones it wrapped around her, all the up to her slender neck.

With a sure nod she greeted the Italian brothers, who didn’t bother to nod back. 

‘Do you require assistance madame?’ Jack asked. With a sure step he moved towards the woman, leaving Luigi’s arm falling down behind him. The woman blinked at him and tilted her head. Perhaps Jack had just done something uncalled for, because her eyes betrayed that she was taken aback by his gesture. With quick flitting eyes she looked at the Maniari brothers behind Jack.  

‘A new family member?’ She said testily. 

‘Oh shush it Lucia.’ Big groaned. 

She frowned and looked at Luigi, but the big brother did not intervene. Instead Luigi’s eyes bore into Jack’s back. He was obviously not amused with the way how Jack had side-stepped from his brotherly arm-on-shoulder. Slowly he returned his gaze to Lucia, who received all the annoyance a man could muster. 

‘Could have chosen a better frock, hmm. No longer mourning your husband, I see?’

Lucia returned his disgusted stare. ‘Do not speak of my Leo, Luigi.’ A flicker of emotion moved behind her high cheekbones. 

‘Yea yea. I hope it was worth it!’ 

Lucia’s eyes started to spit fire. ‘I did ..not! I did not ki-- I..’ She sputtered as Luigi and Big continued their way to the entertainment room. 

‘Come on then Jack, want to hear some of our hostesses’ fine singing?’ Luigi called, but Jack stayed, eyes remaining fixed on the woman named Lucia. She had olive skin, a slightly Italian lilt and fire in the eyes. Even with the Maniari brother’s hurting words, they glittered with the promise of hell and passion. 

Again, perhaps Italians were just all like that. 

Stepping forward Jack hoped that people would stop staring. Lucia, however, couldn’t be bothered by the stares. With another burst of laughter she started shaking her head. 

‘All of you. Sheep! You’re sheep!’ She turned her gaze to all who dared to look, but just as curious as they had been moments earlier, so ashamed were they of looking at her now. 

‘And you..’ She looked at Jack. ‘I don’t know you.’

Jack smiled. He liked her. ‘Not part of the family.’ He said.

‘Good.’ 

--

The man in the bushes ducked down a little more. A light burst from the small shed he had been investigating. And though the night was dark, he felt suddenly aware of his exposed position behind the young Cypress trees. A car was parked just outside the shed and a few minutes earlier he had seen someone enter, shrouded in mystery and a long raincoat. 

Peering into the quiet, he watched as the light beam shifted. It was as expected. 

‘Oh mom..’ He sighed. 

The light died out again. 

--

Jack hoped that dinner would be served soon. His stomach was growling after the long day of rent collecting and fruitless investigating. Leaning into the window frame he watched Luigi. Luigi kept a pensive gaze out of the window, cigarette in hand. 

Outside the first lisps of mist were crawling over the darkened Tuscan hills, and it wouldn’t be long before everything would start to look like a scene out of a classy horror movie. Luigi, however, didn’t seem to be bothered by the gloomy scenery. With focused eyes he was looking at something in the distance. 

‘See that?’ He asked, puffing out smoke. Jack stepped in and followed his pointing finger. Right through the mists, some few hundred meters from the house, came a light. It was nearly too small to catch if you didn’t know what you were looking for, but it was definitely there. And it blinked. Which was curious. Was it a car? 

A little thump broke the silence. 

Luigi reared his head towards the source - the door - and before Jack could intervene, Luigi had rushed towards the hallway where two Bambi-big eyes stared up at him. Jack followed in quick pursuit and like always he had been right; someone had been staring at them through the keyhole. Bunny. Brown haired, long legged, ever curious; Bunny. 

Since their meeting in the village square Jack had wanted to get a word in with her. But with the thrill of a literal chase, followed by the whirlwind that was the Maniari household, he simply hadn’t managed. Besides, it was likely not a good idea to be alone with her, lest he be daring to face the wrath of Augusto. 

‘Looks like little Bunny wants trouble, huh?’ Luigi grasped her by her shirt collar and started dragging her down the winding staircase until they stood before one of the most dreaded doors in the entire house. With little squeals and whines Bunny tried to fight Luigi off, but he held a tight grip on her.

With a sharp rap he knocked the door three times. And were it not for Jack to be right behind them, he would have missed the little exchange brother and sister made. 

‘I do love you.’ Luigi whispered as the door was opened by a bored looking bodyguard. 

Bunny stiffened and as she was pushed inside, Jack and Luigi were also invited in. 

‘What?’ Augusto grumbled from behind his desk. He was hiding behind a newspaper the size of a tablecloth. 

Luigi cleared his throat, which left Jack just enough time to step in instead. 

‘Before we do continue, sir --’

The newspaper was lowered and two dark eyes stared over its edge. 

Jack nodded his head in greeting and continued: ‘I’d report on my findings regarding your missing son.. Alfonso.’

Augusto kept a straight face. ‘Well, I don’t see him here, do I now?’

Jack tilted his head, thinking. ‘Indeed. Yet he may not be far. Even ..close-by. I’d like to perform more rigorous searches tomorrow, early morning, when tracks are fresh. Also, do you happen to have a pair of his shoes that I could take for measurement and wear and tear?’

Augusto lifted an eyebrow. ‘Shoes.’

Their eyes met. 

‘Even one shoe would help considerably.’

‘You think he’s alive?’ Augusto said with a tinge of melancholy. 

‘There’s no signs of the contrary, so there is a good chance he --’

‘Number Three will see to it. Luigi?’ Augusto looked towards his son, who still held firmly onto a stiff-standing Bunny. 

Luigi tilted up his chin. ‘The usual.’

Augusto sighed in utter annoyance as his dark beady eyes shifted towards Bunny. She visibly shivered, though her face remained stoic. ‘Might as well have you married off and done with. Would you like that Bunny-dear?’ 

Bunny kept her gaze focused on the bookcase that stretched along one of the walls. Everything here was brown; the mahogany wood, the smoke-tainted leather, the chesthair that poked out of the men’s crisp white shirts. It was the very last place a woman like her wanted to be. That much was clear. Especially now Augusto raised from his seat. 

With a grunt and slow, stiff joints, the man pushed himself up from behind his desk. A silence fell over the room as he awkwardly shuffled forward until he stood in the middle of the room, arms folding behind his back. With a plopping lick of his lips he shook his head. 

‘So many sons. Good sons. And then there is you.’

Bunny looked up and pain flashed behind her lashes. She shut her eyes in shame. 

‘Always causing trouble. From the day you could walk, you did everything you shouldn’t.’ He stepped forward and used his grubby finger to tilt up her chin. ‘Now look at you.’

Jack felt a rush of dizziness come over him. Perhaps it was the hunger in his stomach. And perhaps it was the start of another war flashback. 

‘Look at me Jack. I’m here.’ 

Bunny was struck across the cheek with a snapping flat hand. 

‘It’s okay. Breath for me.’ 

Another slap to the other cheek. 

'I’m right here.’ 

Bunny let the force of her father’s hand turn her face towards Jack. Her eyes found his. 

‘Right here.’

A silent tear fell from Bunny’s pained eyes, but she did not give a kick. Jack looked back. 

‘Don’t ever let them take your worth Jack-my-sweet.’ Lucia’s long fingers curled around his cheek and for a moment the harsh looks of the aristocrats at the party fell away. Not even the war could trouble him beneath her fingertips. She smiled. ‘I mean there’s only so few who know a woman’s worth.’ 

‘What if I can’t? Can’t do it?’ 

‘There’s always a way.’ 

--

Chap 5 >

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[travllingbunny]

The 100: 7x10 A Little Sacrifice

After The Flock - the show’s weakest episode in a long time - and an unfortunate hiatus after that episode, A Little Sacrifice helped get season 7 back on track. It’s one of the best episodes of the season: it was exciting, things finally happened - a lot, we got a big revelation about what the endgame is likely to be all about, there were fights, an attempted mass murder/genocide (what would a season of The 100 be without those?), some really good character work, and the first major death of the season. 

Yes, Charmaine Diyoza was not a main character. but after being introduced as a villain in season 5, she has grown into one of the most memorable and interesting characters on the show - in large part due to Ivana Miličević’s charismatic performance - with a complex and morally ambiguous characterization and backstory (which I really hope to maybe learn more about one day in the prequel flashbacks? Please?). She has been one of my favorite characters since season 5, and I loved her development and her relationship with Octavia, her mother/daughter relationship between her and Hope, her past fights to protect “expendable” prisoners and her S7 attempts to find peace and renounce violence, and hope (!) that at least her daughter will get to have a different and better life where she wouldn’t need to resort to it.  She became a (not so little) sacrifice for the better future we saw her dreaming of in season 5 in that conversation with Kane - maybe that dream is something we will see the new generations live in the series finale?

The one thing I wasn’t too happy about (I was OK with the lack of Bellamy cliffhanger since we got him in the promo for 7x11 right afterwards) was that Clarke did not have any more screentime than in the other recent episodes. But, especially on rewatch, she had some great subtle little moments.

You know what is not subtle? Sheidheda. He’s finding new ways to be completely OTT. This time he can finally stop pretending to be Russell, so he gets a makeover, more in tune with the...interesting Grounder fashion styles, chews the scenery even more, and then - thanks to Madi - he loses an eye (just as he did during his original lifetime), getting closer to his season 6 Emperor-like look, though he’s missing a cloak this time. He also doesn’t have enough facial hair to twirl his moustache, but he actually hisses at one point. This part of the episode was, this time, really fun and intense, including a really good fight scene and some really emotional and important moments for Indra, Madi and Murphy, but doesn’t need much analysis and doesn’t require attention on rewatch.

I’m still not sure how/if these two storylines will connect. But I can see a thematic connection of sorts: Sheidheda is the embodiment of the worst parts of the Grounder culture, with the worship of violence and power and killing all those who oppose you; and not just that - he’s all egotism taken to the extreme, the kind of “wild beast” as Anders would despise, but in this case, he would actually have good reasons to. On the other hand, we have the Disciples with their sterile white rooms, order and the propaganda of the abnegation of self in the favor of the collective, and dreaming of “transcendence” instead of trying to get back to the “old ways”. But they really come off as two sides of the same coin: both ideologies are about worship of and subjugation to a leader, both believe violence is the solution, and both are against love and see it as a danger.

Brand new opening titles - these opens start with a shot of Sanctum and end with the Bardo Stone Room with the Anomaly Stone - and guess what makes a cameo near the end of the credits? That’s right, Earth. I was starting to think that any return to Earth won’t happen, but now I’m not so sure.

Sanctum

The episode opens with the immediate aftermath of Shady’s massacre of the Faithful. We see Madi’s friend Rex (that’s his name according to the credits) - the Sanctum boy who offered Madi’s other friend, the null boy, to play soccer - mourning someone, probably his mother. This scene had to be there so we’d feel some sympathy and sadness over the deaths of the Faithful rather than just be relieved they’re (mostly) gone. One of the wounded ones is Jeremiah, the same guy who developed deep gratitude for Murphy for saving his son. Although the Faithful have been very annoying, I do feel a tinge of sympathy for this guy, who’s so clueless that he never understood he had any agency in what happened to his son and seemed really convinced it was all about the will of the “gods”. He now asks Murphy to take care of his son when he dies, but Murphy insists he will not let Jeremiah die. (Trey, the annoying a-hole who was brainwashing Jordan, and used to act as the leader of the Faithful, is credited in the episode but I didn’t see him anywhere - so I have no idea if he’s among the dead, or he survived and was in a deleted scene.)  

Madi has a really nice mini arc in this episode. She already had PTSD from her experience and possession by Sheidheda in season 6, so she is absolutely terrified when she learns he is back, and when he threatens her in a really creepy way. Excellent acting by Lola. Later, after being comforted by Murphy and joining the survivors,she shows strength in comforting Rex for his loss; and in the end, overcomes her fears and risks her life to save Indra.

Not that it matters, but Sheidheda’s real name is Malachi. (I’m still gonna keep calling him Shady.) We learn that when he recites the lineage - the names and clans of all the previous Commanders, which we know from S3 is a Grounder custom for a new Commander to do. Of course, we only get to hear some of the names in the middle (a couple of random Commanders called Maffei kom Boudalankru - the Rock Line and Kemji kom Trishanakru) and the end, when he mentions Lexa and Madi. The show wasn’t going to spoil the prequel by revealing the names of early Commanders,

The fight itself was really intense and maybe the best Grounder-style duel in the show (yes, I prefer it to the 3x04 one, which involved too much showmanship to look as a real death match). Shady is obviously going to be there for a while and things aren’t going to get so easily resolved, so he wins and is about to kill Indra - who refuses to kneel to save her own life - but just as he’s about to kill her, Madi finds the courage to come as the Big Damn Hero at the crucial moment, pluck out Shady’s eye and save Indra’s life. But then as he is about to kill Madi, Indra decides to (metaphorically, since she’s lying and about to pass out) kneel in order to save Madi’s life. Indra’s arc with Shady has come full circle: this may finally make her understand her mother’s choice and realize she was unfair to her. She grew up blaming her mother for agreeing to kneel to Sheidheda and considering her “weak”. The battle had been lost, her father was already dead, and her mother made the best possible decision and wasn’t just saving herself but her daughter, too. Otherwise, as we see in this episode, Shady would have ordered the daughter to be killed, too, after the mother - as he thinks children of the people he killed should also be eliminated so they couldn’t pose a threat and seek revenge.

That last order even shocked Knight, who may be having some second thoughts about the awesomeness of “Sangedakru’s greatest champion” (but this doesn’t mean he won’t keep obeying him). Penn and the other Trikru guy we know, who are loyal to Indra, reluctantly knelt when Indra asked them to.  

Madi, Rex and the other Faithful (including Jeremiah, who has indeed survived) have gone into hiding with Murphy and Emori - and hiding at the abandoned reactor. We didn’t see Jackson, but i’m sure he’s there. (Sachin is a guest star and must skip some episodes he’s not really needed in.) So now we’re finally reached the part of this storyline where Shady is in power and our heroes are the resistance. And Murphy is now, with Emori, a part of a power couple protecting these people and taking care of them (who would’ve expected that back in season 1?) - much like we’ve seen Clarke and Bellamy do over the seasons - even though most of the same people resented them for being fake Primes just a few hours earlier. Maybe they’re finally starting to get a clue and feel respect and gratitude to people who are trying to save them just because it’s a decent humane thing to do, rather than for being self-proclaimed “gods” who participated in their murder, oppression and exploitation.

Bardo

After 4 episodes, Clarke, Raven and Miller finally left the Stone Room! Yay! Jordan and Niylah stayed in it, and as it turns out, Jordan has a much more important and interesting role to play by reading the Anomaly Stone, while Niylah’s role in S7 has been to be exposition machine for Grounder history and have bad one-liners while Miller has the good ones. I’m glad there was no prolonged “OMG are they really brainwashed and on their side?” misunderstanding, as Clarke and the rest of the group, after learning about MCap from Gabriel, quickly realized that Octavia, Echo and Diyoza are only pretending, since they haven’t blown the secret that Clarke doesn’t have the Flame.

Speaking of one-liners, Miller’s “Get the flock out of here” really made me laugh out loud.

Callie is known as the Pramfleimkepa - the First Flamekeeper - which should mean she was never a Commander (I imagine that would supersede the position of the Flamekeeper or at least be as worthy of mention). I was afraid for a moment that Niylah had given the game away when she told Cadogan that - but fortunately, he didn’t understand what it meant, as he never knew that Becca called ALIE 2.0 “the Flame”.

Gabriel and Cadogan have a long conversation over dinner (or breakfast or lunch of whatever) about Earth before the bombs and Cadogan’s beliefs. The two of them are one of the few remaining humans who knew life before the apocalypse. (After Diyoza’s death in this episode, the only other people left from that time are the Eligius prisoners in Sanctum.) But while Cadogan is chronologically ‘older’ than Gabriel, as he was a Millennial, while Gabriel was born a couple of decades later, and because Cadogan has technically been alive for thousands of years on Bardo - Cadogan spent most of that time in cryo (same as Diyoza and the other prisoners). Gabriel is the real Old Man - at least 260 years old, having lived and experienced all those years. We learn a bit more about Gabriel’s background - that his family were from Colombia and his grandmother was poor, making him a “self-made man” - another contrast between him and the love of his life Josephine (which makes their season 6 parallel to Clarke/Bellamy even more perfect). Gabriel is the go-to-guy this season for having conversations about the worship of false gods and trying to challenge the Disciples’ beliefs. Cadogan, again, denies that he’s a cult leader (sure), reveals he doesn’t believe in God, and claims he doesn’t consider himself one (he sure doesn’t mind being treated like one, though). Instead, he claims his purpose is for everyone to “transcend” and become like gods - though he doesn’t really explain what that would consist of, and he also doesn’t offer any explanations as to why there is supposed to be a “Last War” and who the enemy in that was is supposed to be. Seven episodes have gone by with the characters talking to the Disciples, and no one has ever asked that question: who is the enemy? I guess they don’t even know that, they just think that, when they type in the code, they will learn who the enemy is and the war will begin, for... reasons? He also adds some BS about “this life” being unimportant compared to afterlife. (Now, to be clear - I actually do believe in the afterlife in general (though I don’t know in which form), but I really, really hate it when religions make the afterlife the focus and treat the life we actually know and are sure we have as less important, use it as an excuse to teach people to accept any sort of crap in their lives and not ask for more instead of living their lives to the fullest and trying to build something worthwhile in this life.) Gabriel is less than impressed with Cadogan, and challenges him by pointing out that “You can’t fight a war for the soul of the human race with an inhuman army” and that a life without love, individuality or freedom is pretty worthless, but Cadogan has the afterlife as a ready excuse, even though that doesn’t really answer the question.

The most important revelation that we finally get in this episode is that Cadogan has most likely mistranslated and completely misunderstood the ancient Bardoan text that he’s based his entire belief system on. And his mistake was in large part due to confirmation bias - he saw what he wanted to see, even though the idea of ending wars and violence by starting and fighting a war is absurd. (Niylah, for once, has a good line, when she points out that every major war is supposed to be the “last” but it never is.) Jordan’s interpretation - that it is really about a test that the species needs to pass - makes a lot more sense. Not a literal test - I really can’t imagine the show introducing some kind of godlike “higher beings” - but, I think, something that will require the characters to use all their strength and moral sense and all the experience they’ve had and wisdom they may have gained, to find the best solution to save the human race and rebuild the civilization, hopefully into something better (and it’s really not too hard being better than the mess of tribalism and constant wars and conflicts we’ve seen on the show). I don’t know what this will be, but the words “the orb becomes like a star” make me thing of a natural phenomenon. 

It’s also cool that it was knowledge of the Korean language that helped Jordan decipher the text - proving how helpful it is to be familiar with multiple languages and cultures and how much it expands one’s way of thinking. Do Disciples speak any languages other than English? They seem to foster cultural uniformity, so probably not. (it’s also confirmed now that Monty was half-Korean on his father’s side - Chris Larkin is Korean, but the actress who played his mother, Donna Yamamoto, is Japanese, so I assume Monty is half-Japanese.)

If you doubted that 7x09 flashbacks were a waste of screentime, we get a confirmation early on that Echo has just been pretending to be loyal to the Disciples, while plotting revenge all the time, when she kills a Disciple and saves Hope from being sent to Skyring. This plot could have continued straight from 7x07, when Echo’s Azgeda ritual was strongly hinting that she’s out for revenge. (And yes, the writing in 7x09 was just  that clunky as I feared - of course that Chekhov’s WMD that Levitt mentioned for no reason would be used in the very next episode for someone to try to kill all the Disciples in another Mount Weather parallel.)

A tiny bit of info about the Disciples - a Disciple addressed Hope as “Seeker Diyoza”. I don’t know if that’s a title for those trying to reach Level 1 or something else.

Hope, with her usual anger and impulsiveness, reminiscent of how Octavia used to be once, and her naive black and white views, is all for revenge-genocide, too, in spite of Octavia’s and Diyoza’s disagreement. Her mother tries to, again, teach her the lesson she tried to in 7x07, that she should turn to love instead of violence and killing (which carries a lot more weight when it comes from someone like Charmaine Diyoza rather than a hippy): “I know what it's like to kill innocent people for a cause, and I promise you, it's not gonna fill that hole in your heart. Only we can do that.” But Hope retorts that “There are no innocent people here”, echoing Nikki’s words to Nelson that “There are no innocent people at the end of the world”. It’s not that Hope doesn’t have a point that everyone in Bardo is a part of the society that’s been kidnapping and torturing her family and that stole her childhood, but collective responsibility is a concept that only works in terms of moral responsibility, not as an excuse to commit genocide because you’ve decided that everyone in the other group is evil and the “enemy” and deserves death. Some people have compared it to Maya saying “None of us is innocent”, but I don’t think this comparison works, because that line changes the meaning entirely depending on whether you are holding yourself and your society morally accountable for its failings and complicity in crimes against humanity, or if you’re using it against others, in order to justify hate and commit crimes against humanity.

Even though neither Clarke nor Octavia had huge screentime in this episode and may not have done anything big (like Diyoza sacrificing herself and saving everyone, or Jordan figuring everything out), they had some wonderful, subtle little moments that spoke volumes:

I loved the hug between Clarke and Octavia - where Clarke said her condolences to Octavia and then Octavia said them back, letting Clarke know she knew what Bellamy meant to her and that she is grieving just as much. (”I’m sorry, Octavia” - “So am I”)

Raven and Miller exchanged a wordless look - probably because of how awkward it was for Miller to see Octavia again. Although these 4 people all go back to season 1 (and it was the first time in a while they were in the same room), for Miller it’s been just a few weeks since she was Blodreina and he was her follower, and the last time they saw each other (in season 6), he yelled at her that he’s not following her orders anymore - which was about him struggling with his guilt and seeing her as an embodiment of it. But for Octavia, it’s been over 10 years and a huge character development, which Miller doesn’t know about. But they had no time to go over it - instead, she just hugged him and asked him to hug her back, and he did.

When the group went to find Levitt - still tied up and bloody after Echo had tortured him and killed two Disciples in front of him to force him to tell her about Gem9, the WMD that can destroy everyone on Bardo (he must be really traumatized one - Clarke obviously immediately realized what was going on when she saw Octavia come to check on Levitt, going by the look on her face, and her look when she turned to go and the others went after her, while Octavia was still there -as if saying "I realize you need a moment with this guy, but don't wait too long". Although Levitt looked disappointed and shocked that Octavia didn’t untie him, she was really doing what was the most reasonable way to try to protect everyone - the priority was to stop Echo from killing all the Disciples, which would include Levitt, but also to stop Levitt from alerting Anders, which he would’ve done, because Octavia also wanted to save Echo and her people. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t  care for Levitt, but she’s not the 17 year old girl who’d go: “I just met you but you’re immediately the most important person to me and I’m going to prioritize you over everyone I know”.

 And then we get to the final and most dramatic scene of the episode...  Echo’s attempt to commit genocide out of revenge, while Octavia, Clarke and Raven tried to talk her down.

Octavia tried to reach Echo by, again, talking about their shared grief over Bellamy, as she did in 7x07, but again, it did not work - because Octavia and Echo, and Clarke and Echo, are different people, who grieve in different ways and think and act in different ways. It doesn’t mean that any of them are grieving more or less than another one - but their responses are very different. Octavia - this mature Octavia who is more able to empathize with others and doesn’t react with impulsive violence as she used to -  responded by trying to reach out to others who were also grieving for Bellamy, Echo and Clarke, and validating their grief, too. Clarke reacted - after the initial shock and grief - by sucking it up, as she does, in order to take care of the others, and focusing on saving the people Bellamy loved, telling Raven “We do this for him” and focusing on saving Octavia and Echo. Echo, on the other hand, reacted destructively and violently and by killing people for revenge and then plotting genocide as revenge for 3 months. This is the only way she knows how to process grief - she’s never known a different way, as I’m sure Azgeda weren’t known for compassion and sharing feelings. When Bellamy was grieving Clarke in season 6, she asked him “When do we attack?”, because that’s what she expected him to do, too. She’s also lost because she hasn’t lost just a boyfriend, but a leader and anchor in her new post-Praimfaya life, and because she had made saving Bellamy her mission she was waiting to fulfill during the 5 years on Skyring. If she had carried out her plan, I’m not sure she’d know what to do with herself. (I don’t know what it says about the mindset of us, humans of 2020, that so many fans have decided that Echo’s way of grieving is the superior one and the one that shows that she loves Bellamy the best. It certainly doesn’t show anything good.)

Octavia’s next argument - that there are many good people on Bardo she’d be killing - was even less successful, as Echo threw her relationship with Levitt back in her face, pointing out that he stole her memories, talking of him as one of their enemies, and then even saying: "Way to honor your brother's memory!" Echo came off as very judgmental here, and more than bit hypocritical - after all , she personally almost killed Octavia twice, and Bellamy started trusting her and dating her on the Ring, after she had given them both far less reason to trust her than Levitt did. Levitt actually took a risk and was helping her against Anders just out of his feelings for Octavia, while Echo only helped Bellamy and others after she was exiled and had to in order to survive. She seems to value forgiveness only when it’s others forgiving her (”Who knows more about forgiveness than us?”), even though she never expected them to and was a bit shocked that they did.

Clarke then tried to use her standard “This is not who you are” plea, but it didn’t work with Echo, since Clarke doesn’t really know Echo, and the words felt empty. There really is very little reason for Clarke to think this is not who Echo is, except for her tendency to assume Echo must have changed for the better because she’s Bellamy’s girlfriend and Bellamy loves her (see their conversation in 5x12). Clarke also tried to use her own experience - as she did with Raven earlier in the season - telling Echo that “a choice like this” would haunt her forever (of course Clarke would bring up MW, it always goes back to MW for her), but Echo rejected that comparison and, for a moment, channeled me by pointing out that Clarke’s motivations were to save her people, while Echo’s are purely revenge. Which was, however, a strange argument in context - pointing out that Clarke’s reasons were much better and she had no choice but to kill all of the Mountain Men or let them kill all of her friends and family, while Echo wasn’t achieving anything good and could just save all her people and not take revenge on the Disciples. But Echo seemed to be telling Clarke that they different, and she cannot assume that Echo will feel the same way about mass murder Clarke does.

Then Clarke finally brought up Bellamy, pointing out that he would not want a genocide to be committed in his memory. I don’t know how anyone who’s watched the show for 6 seasons could disagree with Clarke. But Echo did. What’s more, she yelled  "You have no idea what Bellamy wanted!" in a really angry, resentful way. It felt personal. I don’t know if Echo has felt romantic jealousy of Clarke over Bellamy - she has sure kept it close to her chest - but it certainly felt like some kind of possessiveness, like resenting the idea that Clarke was as close or closer to Bellamy and knew him better. In any case, this was a moment of extreme dramatic irony - because we know (and really, Echo should know as well)  that Echo is the one who doesn’t seem to know, or is simply ignoring, what Bellamy would have wanted and who he was. And she should know. She was there when he talked down Riley from killing Roan, telling him “War made me a murderer, don’t let it do it to you too”, she was there when Bellamy refused to kill 283 prisoners in cryo sleep and said “Clarke didn’t die for us to go back and make the same mistakes”. And she was there when Bellamy was grieving Clarke but decided not to take revenge for her death - not even by killing the man who murdered her, Russell - but to try to honor her memory by doing what she would want and surviving and keeping their people alive. Which directly contradicts Echo’s statement that Bellamy would be doing the same she is if one of them (Clarke, Octavia or her) were killed. Does she really not know him? Most of the time they spent together were in a time of peace and boredom with just 7 people on the Ring. She seems to be projecting her own ideas and views and character into him. 

Then Raven went on to agree with Clarke (but Echo did not resent her for saying it), pointing out how Bellamy has grown and changed and that the post-season 3 Bellamy certainly would never do that. I was slightly annoyed when she said that Bellamy of season 3 may do that - but to be fair, she did say, “maybe”. Now, season 1 or season 3 Bellamy was certainly angrier and more prone to black and white thinking when it came to enemies, and he may very well have agreed to kill all of the adult Disciples if he thought they were likely to be a threat to his people (which is what he did when he agreed to help Pike kill Lexa’s army), but he sure wouldn’t agree to kill any of them just for revenge, or to kill children and non-combatants (the one time he did it was MW, when he and Clarke knew there was no other way to protect their people from being horrifically killed, and he hated it and was haunted by it then). Nevertheless, that’s a minor thing as the point of Raven’s speech was the way Bellamy has grown and developed. Echo hasn’t really changed, certainly not as much as Bellamy wanted to think in S5. Is there still time for her to change?

In the end, love did save the day - but it wasn’t Echo’s love for Bellamy, it was her non-romantic love for Raven and Raven’s for her. Raven calling her a sister only helped pave the way - but she had to actually threaten to stay there and force Echo to choose between killing Raven and giving up her revenge, for Echo to finally stand down. The fact she did shows that maybe there’s still hope for her to change and give up revenge and violence for things like friendship.

 But then Anders had to appear and ruin everything, He could have just tried to arrest the group, rather than threatening them and giving them speeches about how he despises them for being “beasts raised in the wild”. (I’ve wondered many times since 7x05 is Anders is supposed to be smart or a complete dumbass. He was definitely a dumbass.)

Diyoza took charge, as the most experienced and tactical one, and almost.  And then Hope was again being her impulsive, angry, out of control self - Anders is always the person most likely to set her off - killing Anders (which I wouldn’t mind) but then also making her own attempt to commit genocide. (It’s funny that the four Disciples just froze and did nothing while all of that was happening.)

What happened then was both a heroic sacrifice and one of the best and most heroic death scenes on the show, a fitting ending for Charmaine Diyoza (even a visually beautiful death in a creepy way, as Diyoza turned into a crystal statue), with her final message to her daughter to be “better” than her in the future - and a heartbreaking loss for Hope, who has just been punished by the narrative/fate for her devotion to violence and hate and attempt at genocide, by causing her own mother’s death. She was obsessed with revenge for her lost childhood and the fact her mother was taken from her - instead of focusing on the future and what she still had. I’m sure that Hope will survive to the end of the series, and will have to question herself and change. She still has Aunty O to help her and be her family.

As we’re approaching the endgame, the show here made an obvious point about violence, hatred and revenge and having to give up those things - not for Anders’ unemotional duty to the collective, but for love and compassion/

Rating: 8.5/10

[kitiwrites-blog]

Coffee Shop - David Dobrik

Summary: You’re working at your local coffee shop and a fluffy-haired boy walks in. You know exactly who he is.

Word count: 2.2k 

(welcome to my new blog! it’s been a while since i’ve been active on tumblr - or written anything that’s not academic writing for that matter -  so please forgive me! enjoy :3 )

~Requests are open~

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It’s absolutely pelting down with rain and you’re frantically trying to pack away the salt and pepper shakers from the outdoor tables. Your uniform is completely soaked and you’ve barely managed to collect half of the damn things. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, as if this day could get any worse,” you grumble. You’ve had a frankly awful day, littered with entitled asshole customers left right and centre.

A tall figure rushes to help you, collecting the remaining shakers and depositing them with the rest of your collection which are protected on a table sheltered by an overhang. 

“Oh my gosh - thank you!!” You shout over a clap of thunder, squinting through the rain to face him, ushering him through the cafe door and back into the warmth. 

“You’re welcome!” He shouts back, his voice oddly familiar.

It’s not until the two of you are inside that you realise who exactly just came to your rescue. David Dobrik is smiling at you, his dark fluffy hair soaked and plastered to his forehead. 

Your brain short circuits for a second. Holy shit. You’d been watching this guy’s videos for years and now he’s standing in front of you with the same goofy smile on his face.  You panic a little, not knowing how to react.

“You didn’t have to do that!” you settle with, “You must be freezing! Here, sit down.”

You pull him over to the cozier side of the cafe near the fire place, rushing off to grab him some blankets that you keep in the back. “They’re not towels, but I’m sure they’re better than nothing.” You say as you hand one to him, quickly wrapping the other around his shoulders. Your face is hot and you can tell you’re blushing. 

‘Smooth, Y/N,’ you think to yourself.

He laughs at your frazzled state and accepts the blankets, “Thank you, now I’ve gone from drowning in rain to drowning in blankets.”

You giggle, he does look a little ridiculous. “There are worse ways to go.” You reply with a smile, “Can I get you something warm to drink?”

He grins, “I’d love a hot chocolate.”

“Done.”

You return to work, heart racing as you clear tables . The David Dobrik was in your cafe.  Most of the customers had made a mad dash through the rain to their cars to miss the worst of the storm, so it was just you and him left in the cozy LA cafe. 

You watch him over the top of the coffee machine. He’s pulled out his laptop and is frowning at something on the screen.

When you drop off his drink with a smile, he grins back and pulls off his headphones, “Thanks!” 

“Anytime.” you say as you plonk yourself down on an arm chair nearby, wringing your hair out and letting the fireplace warm your soaked body. You may as well take your break now, there’s nothing else to do.

“Here,” says David, offering you one of his blankets.

You take it gratefully and wrap it around yourself. It smells like boy and you definitely don’t burrow into it a little. No sir.

David closes his laptop and turns to face you fully. “So who do I have to thank for the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted in my life?”

Surprised at him making conversation, you chuckle and reply; “Do you see anyone else around here?”

He smirks, “I was asking for your name.”

“Y/N,” you reply with a blush, “and if that’s best hot chocolate you’ve ever tasted, I’m concerned; the owners make us use a packet mix here.”

He gasps, “Y/N! How could you expose your cafe like that!” he exclaims with mirth in his eyes.

You laugh and launch into a rant about proper hot chocolates - the melted chocolate kind. The good shit. He smiles, listening to every word.  Eventually you sneak off to the back and pull out a Lindt chocolate bar that you’d bought on your way to work (initially intended for a late night snack), and bring it over to the machine. He follows you and watches as you melt it and froth some milk to add to it.

When he tastes it, his eyes go wide and a contagious grin etches onto his face. 

“Holy Shit.” He laughs.

The two of you move back to the fire to drink the rest, while you wait out the rain.  No one else joins you in the shop, the weather outside is just too awful to even contemplate leaving shelter. You tell each other about your lives and the banter between you is so easy that you don’t want it to end.  

You tell him that you’ve seen “a couple” of his videos and he gets excited and asks which ones.  You nervously list a few of your favourites and he tells you some of the stories behind them. 

You sit talking for hours, the sun has gone down and the shop should have been closed at least half an hour ago. It’s only when you stifle a yawn that David eventually unwraps the blanket from himself and moves to stand.  This hair is now dry and even fluffier than it usually is in his videos.

“Thanks for having me for so long, I should probably get going.”  He sounds sad, but somehow; you know he’ll be back. 

You smile, thank him for the chat and downright refuse to take his money.

“But Y/N! I drank like all of your chocolate!” He says, his wallet is out and he has cash in hand, but you’re adamant.

And that’s how it goes for the next few months.  Every afternoon he comes alone into your cafe and you make him his special Lindt hot chocolate. If it’s a quiet day, you’ll sit with him and the two of you will talk each other’s ears off until a customer comes in. When you’re busy, he’ll normally just edit videos on his laptop and wait for you to finish your shift; then he’ll walk you to your car, chatting the entire way about video ideas or asking you about your university studies. You never let him pay, even though he tries to every time.  

Sometimes he gets recognised.  It’s adorable watching him interact with his fans, he’s slightly awkward but manages to remain gentile and kind.  Sometimes when he’s uncomfortable he’ll catch your eye over the counter and send you a pleading look.  With no idea how to help, you normally just laugh and fake swoons behind the fans’ backs until he laughs and doesn’t have to fake his smile anymore.

It makes your chest feel funny.

He’s so different to the person you see in his vlogs, he’s focused and driven, yet has the biggest heart.  You’re too nervous to ask for anything more. You don’t want to ruin what the two of you have going on, even though you want so much for there to be more.  

That is until he comes in with a girl latched to his arm.

You recognise her immediately from his videos. She’s just as gorgeous as ever.  You tense a little when you see her at his side, but relax as they come closer and you can hear what she’s saying.

“David! You’ve been sneaking off somewhere every afternoon to somewhere and wont tell any of us where! There has to be a girl involved I just know i-” Corinna is whisper yelling at David when she sees you.  A shit-eating grin gracing her beautiful features.  It feels good knowing that he’s been sneaking away to spend time with you.

David looks uncomfortable and has a slight blush tinging his cheeks. 

“Look what the cat dragged in!” You greet them both with a wink to Corinna.

“Hey Y/N,” David says with a laugh, looking more relaxed when he sees your ease with the new-comer.  “This is Corinna, she sort of stalked me all the way here.”

You come around the counter and greet Corinna with a friendly hug, she turns and gives David a look you can’t see that makes him stick his tongue out at her.  

“Nice to meet you Y/N!” She beams, turning back to you. The two of you hit it off, she’s hilarious and the two of you have similar humour. David, with a relived smile on his face, slinks off to his usual table and begins editing.  Before you know what you’re doing, your hands are making his usual hot chocolate whilst you chat with Corinna, sliding it over to his table when it’s finished. 

“I should get going,” Corinna says, “but it was lovely to meet you Y/N!” 

She turns to David, “David, Y/N should come to our party tonight!  They guys would love her!” 

David wipes his milk moustache and blinks up at you, gauging your reaction to see if you’re comfortable with the suggestion.  You give him a quick nod. “Sure, why not.” he says,  “Would you like to come over to mine tonight Y/N? You can meet some more of my friends.”

“Yeah I’d love to!” you smile.

And that’s how you ended up at David Dobrik’s house a couple of hours after your shift that day.  He’d given you his address so that you could go home and get changed out of your work clothes before you came.  You’d changed your outfit so many times when you were getting ready that it was frankly embarrassing how nervous you were. 

What if they didn’t like you? What if they thought you were weird and told David? Would David stop coming into your work to see you?

Eventually you’d settled on a cute top and some high-waisted jeans. You were so nervous you were about to turn around and get back into your car when someone appeared behind you.

“You must be the lovely Y/N! David told us you were coming!” Zane swoops you into a bear hug, you giggle a ‘hello’ and small squeal when he squeezes you too tight.  Health comes up behind Zane.

“Oh my gosh and she’s just as beautiful as Corinna said she was! Baby why has David been keeping you a secret this whole time?! He throws an arm around your shoulder and guides you inside.

The rest of the ‘Vlog Squad’ welcome you with just as much enthusiasm, it’s a little overwhelming so it’s a huge relief when you eventually see David and he pulls you in for a tight hug, camera in hand for the first time since you’ve met him.

It’s strange at first because you normally don’t hug each other, but you quickly find yourself inhaling and giving him a light squeeze. He smells delicious. 

The party starts and drinks are passed around.  You take a couple of shots with Corinna and turn down Dom’s suggestion of doing body shot’s off each other with a laugh. 

Each of David’s friends pull you to the side at one point in the evening and try to get to know you.  You feel so welcomed that your heart is about to burst with relief.  Matt even tries to pull some moves on you, though you brush him off good naturedly. You have your heart set on somebody else.

The booze is also doing it’s job of easing your anxiety and you find yourself laughing more freely.  You even contribute some jokes of your own to the group, one of which Jason turns to David with tears in his eyes and exclaims; “Please tell me you got that on camera that was too good!”

Eventually, as the night is starting to come to an end, David puts his camera away and pulls you outside near the fire pit.  It’s chilly out and the two of you sit close.

“Thank you for coming tonight, the guys all love you in there. Dom and Matt maybe a bit too much.”

You laugh, “Dom’s certainly an interesting one.” you tease, “But for real, thank you for inviting me, I’ve had a really great time.”

David smiles down at you, “I was a bit worried actually.”

You frown, “Why? That I wouldn’t like your friends?”

“No, not that.” He chuckles, “I was actually worried someone’d try to steal you away from me.”

You look into his eyes, they’ve gone soft. 

“You see,” he says, fiddling nervously with his hands, “I kind of really like you Y/N and I was nervous one of them would try to make a move on you or something.”

Your heart is racing, “Even if they did, I’d turn them down.” 

“Why?”

“Because I like someone else.”

He looks down at his feet, “Oh... I-”

“I like you David,” you say with a small smile.

His head whips up so fast that you’re surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. “Really?! Did you really just say that or am I dreaming?”

You laugh, repeating your words from the day you first met; “Do you see anyone else around here?”

He beams. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Get on with it the-” and his lips are on yours.  They’re softer than you imagined, and somehow sweeter too.  One of his hands comes to rest on your cheek while the other pulls you closer by the small of your back.  His tongue brushes against your bottom lip which causes you to gasp. He uses the opportunity to deepen the kiss slightly.

You bunch your fists into his t-shirt, suddenly feeling happier than you ever have before, smiling into the kiss so wide that it almost doesn’t count as a kiss anymore. 

Hollers come from behind you and you break apart to see the whole Vlog Squad squealing in glee at the sight of you two.  You burrow your face into David’s chest to hide and he hugs you tight, laughing at his idiot friends.

You guess they’re your idiot friends too now.

---

[lihikainanea]

Oh my goodness, for the Christmas prompt once I saw the number 7 and 13, Tiger and Bill just popped up. Imagine Bill having the balls to call Tiger 'little elf' and that day she just wasn't going to have it decides to sass him and it just breaks out to this hilarious bicker.

I AMM OFFICIALLY ALLOWED TO BE EXCITED ABOUT CHRISTMAS NOW SO HERE WE GO.

7. “Awwww look at my little elf.”

13. “Ho ho ho, bitch.”

***

You had tried to be patient. You tried to be understanding that people had different opinions on when the excitement for Christmas was allowed to start—and Bill was one of those people. You knew he was tired, but usually by this time peeks of the holiday cheer would shine through as he helped you put up your decorations, before his own went up.

And he had done just that, but that was weeks ago. And when the first week of December rolled around and not an ounce of Christmas was seen in his apartment, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You lazed in bed while he got ready for a lunch with his agent, watching him get ready.

“So handsome,” you complimented as he fastened his watch and rolled his shirt sleeves to his elbows. He smiled shyly at you as he made his way over. He sat on the bed, brushing his knuckles across your cheek before leaning in for a sweet kiss.

“Mmm, you smell nice too,” you said as you broke apart, sniffing his neck. He laughed, kissing your nose.

“Do you need more coffee before I go?” He asked, but you shook your head.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said and kissed you again, “Love you, kid. Stay out of trouble.”

“Love you too, have fun.”

You waited until you heard the sound of his car start and pull away before you threw the covers back, jumping from the bed. You dug into the closet in his spare room, way back in the bottom corner where you had hid no fewer than a dozen shopping bags filled with tacky Christmas decorations. Tying your hair back into a ponytail, you got to work.

He had a real tree every year, so there was no sense in putting a fake one up. But over the course of 3 hours, you managed to deck his halls with every cheesy, outrageously kitschy symbol of the holidays that you could manage—shiny green and red baubles hung from wherever you could reach, the rest piled in vases strewn across his apartment. Tinsel surrounded every doorframe, bells and holly and some mistletoe hung in the middle of each one. An advent calendar on twine was taped haphazardly to his hallway wall—crooked, just to make him a little nuts—and nutcrackers decorated every other open space. Picture frames were replaced with signs bestowing holiday cheer, and by the time you were done, his place looked even merrier than yours. Heating up the mulled wine on the stove, you scooped some nuts and raisins into your mug before pouring the steaming liquid on top. You heard his car door slam as you took your first sip, and you hurried to the hallway to catch his reaction as he opened the door.

His eyes widened and he stopped dead in his tracks, taking in his surroundings.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, and his eyes narrowed as they fell on you, “Tiger, you’re dead.”

“Ho ho ho, bitch,” you clicked the battery pack on your sweater and flipped him off as the bright lights embedded in it started to flicker, “Merry Christmas, you grinch.”

He took a threatening step towards you and you stood your ground.

“It’s a Christmas miracle, bud. Your place doesn’t look barren and desolate anymore,” you said, and he kept advancing on you slowly but you remained where you were. And when he got close enough, his chest right up against yours as he bent his neck to glare down at you, you reached for your back pocket. Pulling the shiny hat and the goofy glasses—a tinsel moustache attached to them—out from behind you, you reached on your tippy toes to place the hat on his head and delicately hooked the glasses around his ears.

He stayed stock still, glaring down at you the whole time.

“Awwww,” you cooed, “Look at my little elf.”

He bent at the knees, slowly and deliberately, keeping his glare on you the whole time. He didn’t even flinch as you slowly reached up, honking his nose for good measure. Rather, he waited until your hand was back at your side as you started to look at him a little worried.

“Billy Goat?”

Silence. And then, ever so slowly, he leaned forward just a tad so that his lips barely brushed yours.

“Run, little one,” he threatened lowly. And with a squeal you took off down the hallway, his thundering footsteps right at your heels.

[gear-project]

This is just merely generic theory of mine, but seeing how he is able to change his clothes into a baseball player, contort and stretch his limbs like his neck, would it be possible that Faust's appearance in Strive is the result of him using his reality warping abilities to say, make himself appear scary? Given that he is still himself in some animations of gameplay, I figured he could be using an intimidation factor or theatrics to make himself more unpredictable than before.

The only thing we know for certain that is deliberate about Faust is the bag of shame he wears on his face... though that very same "bag" has changed throughout the series.

In fact, that was the very joke in Johnny's Treasure Hunt.  Faust's treasure is a fancy giftshop bag with a fake moustache taped on it, as if to suggest he's used to having a bag for a face now and wears the latter to look trendy or fashionable.

And while that goes hand-in-hand with the afro wigs he sometimes appears to wear (a reference to Disco era bell-bottoms and trendy tops), in-person Faust tends to be very humble about how he presents himself to others, especially patients he looked after, like May and other children, even Millia Rage or Zappa.

The only time he actually darkened his personality was around Chronus and Zato=ONE.

If he has any major reasons for his change in appearance, they still remain unclear... but I have to doubt it's meant to intimidate others deliberately... as that goes against his code of ethics as a Doctor, even as a former-Doctor.

Most likely, something did "change" about him... but it's not something immediately apparent, or perhaps something against his will.

I would sooner assume the Backyard had some affect on how Faust looks/behaves rather than suggest he changed on purpose.

Especially given that he was last seen trying to find a cure for the Japanese people, an entire nation.  Losing his grip on sanity now would only be problematic moving forward.

[cullen-collective]

*cough cough* @emmettmccartycullen started this *cough cough*

***

"Get the fuck out here! You're making me wait and I do not enjoy waiting!"

"Yes dear," Edward said. "I remember the months before our wedding better than you do." He finally emerged from the bedroom with a fluffy blanket and the giant beanbag chair Bella had gotten him for their last anniversary.

"Hardee har har." Bella flopped down onto the bag as Esme came in and settled on the couch near Emmett and Rosalie.

"Bella, please stop cursing during family time," she said. "Beside that, once we start the video the f-bombs will fly freely anyway. No need to get a jumpstart."

"Yeah, sis, watch your fuckin' language." Bella snorted loudly and Emmett guffawed at his own joke. Rosalie rolled her eyes and smacked Emmett's shoulder as Esme sighed.

Edward settled on the beanbag next to Bella and draped the blanket over them. "In case you were wondering," he said, "Alice has surely seen us decide to watch this without her and she will not be pleased. Jasper and Carlisle will also be disappointed."

Rosalie shrugged. "Their fault for being out of town when it got uploaded."

"Can we press play? I've been looking forward to this for a week." Bella shifted uncomfortably in the chair. The fact that she was incapable of being uncomfortable didn't seem to phase her in the slightest.

"We are literally immortal, love. The extra few seconds for everyone to settle in cannot kill you. Nothing short of a ballistic missile can kill you." Edward punctuated the sentiment by draping his arm around her shoulders and planting a kiss to her temple.

Bella huffed but smiled when his lips connected with her cheek, then her hairline.

"I'm going to hurl."

"Ignore Rosalie."

"You always say that." Bella giggled.

"It's always good advice."

"Oh my God, Ma, start the video before we become extras in the Ed and Bella poetry hour," Emmett said, looking thoroughly disgusted.

"Don't call me Ed!"

"Okay, okay, I'm playing it, everyone quiet down." Esme hit a button on the small remote and the giant screen filled up with the two faces that brought the family together without fail.

"So right now, we're in Monroe, Connecticut, were about to go pay Annabelle a face to face visit..."

"Such a terrible idea," Emmett muttered.

"It's not real, so," Edward shrugged.

"This week on a special episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural, we investigate Annabelle the doll as part of our ongoing investigation into the question: 'are ghosts real?'"

"No," Esme said, and Edward shook his head.

"Would you two shut up!" Bella said. "I'm missing the beginning! And yes they are." She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. "Ryan presents tons of evidence."

"Evidence that could be literally anything."

"The evidence could be my foot up your ass," Rosalie suggested.

"That person is probably weirdly attached to that doll," Ryan's voice cut through their argument.

"Hear that, Emmett? You're way older than twenty-eight, you have to get rid of your dolls." Bella laughed out.

"Oi! Those are collectible action figures. I am not weirdly attached."

"It doesn't matter because none of them are possessed," Edward said.

"Because possession isn't real," Esme chimed in.

"Oh my goodness, we get it, you're skeptics, pick a new hobby." Rosalie crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her head on Emmett's shoulder, eyes glued to the screen as she admonished the "Shaniacs".

"Just a little concrete evidence and I'll get a new hobby," Edward said.

"What's the most disrespectful thing I could do to her?"

"Give her a wet willy!"

"Throw it in the toilet!"

"Tell her that her momma's fat!"

"Call her a virgin who can't drive!"

"Draw a moustache on it!"

As Shane and Ryan approached Annabelle's case, Bella snorted. "This is like watching someone enter the room the killer is in during a horror movie."

"You mean fake? Yeah."

"Mom, what the hell?!"

Edward reached behind him and slapped five with Esme.

"Oh God, I hate the spirit box," Rosalie said. "That noise is super annoying for our ears."

"Yeah, I'm actually with Shane on this," Emmett said.

"We want a response!"

"Why?! That guy is for sure going to get drained dry one day." Bella had half her face covered by the blanket.

"His blatant disregard for the supernatural makes me think that's unlikely."

"Vampires and werewolves you have down pat, but ghosts is the line you draw?" Bella's eyebrow shot up.

"Yeah. Because the others I can see. And hear. I've never heard a ghost's thoughts."

"HOLY SHIT THE FLASHLIGHTS!" Emmett suddenly shouted.

"Oh fuck!" Rosalie said.

"Tell me when it's over!" Bella threw the blanket fully over herself.

"They leave them right on the cusp of on and off," Edward said. "Small vibrations."

"Dude, that is some solid fucking evidence."

"No, Emmett, it isn't." Esme shook her head. "It's just science."

"Between me and you... he's free rein."

"I'm totally telling the spirits that about you if we ever come face to face with something malevolent," Bella said, poking Edward in the side.

"Glad to know I have full spousal support."

"Yep. I am the pillar on which you stand."

"... on those who cross her path... remains..."

"Unsolved," the five of them said in unison.

"Think of what a gift it will be if you survive the next couple weeks, no accidents, no nothin', you can put her on your little list of ghouls!"

"Put her on the list, because she isn't real," Esme said.

"They can't hear you through the screen," Rosalie said.

Just then there was a loud crack as the door flew open. Lightning shot through the sky, illuminating the figure standing menacingly at the entryway.

Emmett cowered behind Rosalie and let out a very girlish shriek, and Bella clung to Edward, who clung back just as tightly.

"Take them, I have a husband and kids!" Esme shouted.

"We are your kids!"

"Now is not the time for logic, Rosalie!"

"I cannot believe," the figure in the entry said, with the voice of an ear-shattering banshee, "you watched Buzzfeed Unsolved without me!"

Bella peeked her head out from Edward's chest and got a better look at the figure without the lightning in the way.

It was Alice.

And she was livid.

"Told you guys she'd be upset."

[sparklyjojos]

THE SAIMON FAMILY CASE recaps [6/13]

In which we finally talk about the case and meet the rest of the giant family.

--

After the evening show, Ajiro and Kirigirisu join the staff in the restricted area. Tensui spots them, gives them a warning look—not where others can hear—and nods towards his beautiful assistant to attend to them for now. The assistant is still in her Koyomi costume and make-up, and even her smile is the same as on-stage, apparently genuine rather than faked. Her beauty gives off a mysterious impression among the darkness filled with snow. Ajiro introduces her: she’s Tensui’s wife, Saimon Miku. Although Kirigirisu has already been told Tensui was married, he hasn’t even considered that this woman in her late twenties could be the 50-year-old magician’s wife. Miku asks them to wait for Tensui in their trailer house.

The trailer house is surprisingly spacious and well-furnished: a table by a comfortable couch, a small kitchen, a couple doors that probably lead to a bathroom and some sort of a closet. Two cups of freshly brewed, delicious hot coffee are already waiting for them on the table. Who prepared them is yet another mystery, seeing as Ajiro and Kirigirisu seem to be the only people inside and didn’t spot anyone leaving.

“Magicians love playing jokes on their guests,” Ajiro explains. “They can pull any stunt as long as it gives others the sense of surprise and wonder. You know, most people eventually get fed up with constant surprises, but it looks like you still feel mostly awe and respect. Though a spectator, you already have the makings of a splendid magician. All the greats of the magical world have to be crying from joy right now.”

Kirigirisu is lost deep in thought. Maybe being easily surprised by everything isn’t so bad after all. Clueless about the world after losing all his memories, Kirigirisu has always seemed to himself and others like a naive child in an adult’s body, but maybe it is precisely this naivety—or rather, this innocence? genuinity?—that makes him inclined towards magic.

They talk about Miku and Tensui. Miku really is a strikingly beautiful woman, in a much different way than the gentle, kind Kano will always be beautiful for Kirigirisu.

“Unlike Tensui, Gensui is a bachelor,” Ajiro states, which makes Kirigirisu a bit confused for a second; he got so used to thinking that Gensui is also Soga Tensui that he almost forgot the actual Tensui is his own person.

“Uh… so is the man we’ve just seen outside Tensui or Gensui?”

“I don’t know. That’s how perfect their act is. It seems even Miku wouldn’t be able to differentiate between them at a glance, though you can tell which brother you’re facing once he says something. That’s why the magician Soga Tensui never speaks in front of others.”

Kirigirisu looks through the window at where the performers are still gathered discussing something. Tensui really is keeping silent at all times. Close to him, still in her little Koyomi costume, a young girl is standing—and staring back directly at Kirigirisu. Well, obviously the bright window of the trailer house would catch anyone’s attention in the dark evening… but for some reason the girl’s intense stare makes Kirigirisu startle, and her smile leaves a deep impression.

Kirigirisu breaks this strange moment to answer Ajiro’s question about whether he figured out the show’s many secrets. He shares his theories. Though he can’t even start to explain some of the illusions, and several of his musings are likely absurd, Ajiro listens to everything with the same seriousness. It feels just like all those times they exchanged theories about a particularly difficult case. In the end, it seems like Ajiro came up with very similar observations as Kirigirisu. 

“I myself can’t be sure whether these theories are right,” Ajiro says. “Unlike many widely exposed tricks, the original illusions created by the Circus aren’t taught to outsiders. All we have are unconfirmed theories. However, I am still sure that if we eliminate all the impossible options, whatever remains must be the truth.”

Kirigirisu can’t help but be surprised that even Ajiro isn’t able to figure out everything about the show; he has always seemed an unstoppable titan of intellect, he can figure out so many illusions on his own...

“It’s not the difference in our reasoning abilities that matters here, Kirigirisu. I simply know a few more methods used in magic. No matter how smart a detective is, he still won’t figure out an illusion if he doesn’t know the principles behind it. When Tensui and Gensui go all out, not even I can unravel their methods. Isn’t that right, Gensui?”

Kirigirisu freezes, then whips his head around, trying to spot anyone. Then—

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” comes Gensui’s voice as he emerges from behind the closet door right next to the couch, making Kirigirisu scream. “Aw, you really are one awful man, Souji. You knew I was here and still didn’t tell him.”

“Y-you knew?” Kirigirisu looks between them in shock.

“There were two cups of freshly brewed coffee waiting for us when we came in,” Ajiro points out. “That mystery really could only have one solution.”

“But usually not even a promising magician like Kirigirisu would think of it immediately,” Gensui counters. “If all the spectators were like you, Souji, we’d be out of a job. Kirigirisu, I’m sorry for surprising you once more. As for my eavesdropping, I don’t intend to make excuses. The truth is, I wished to hear your honest thoughts about the show.”

“And you were counting on me to pull everything out of him?” Ajiro smiles.

“I have full trust in you, Souji. I knew you would never betray my expectations. Kirigirisu, the theories you devised were quite correct. You’ve successfully proven your talent both as a detective and as a magician.”

Kirigirisu stumbles over words trying to express gratitude, only to be stunned into silence when Miku enters the trailer house followed by another person.

Elegantly swept-back hair, a thin Kaiser moustache, the imposing dignity of an emperor even in a black diving suit with a warm robe thrown on top—the real Soga Tensui is here.

--

“We’re sorry to have kept you waiting,” Miku says.

Tensui only gives them a quiet nod. Even now he’s keeping silent, his expression completely serious in contrast to his brother’s smile.

“My name is Kirigirisu Tarou,” Kirigirisu introduces himself nervously. “It is so nice to meet you…”

“Why are you saying nice to meet you?” Gensui interrupts. “You’ve already met the magician Soga Tensui before, haven’t you?”

“Oh… oh, right. I’m sorry. I will be more careful in the future.”

The plan is that Gensui will tell them the details about the case while Miku is getting them back home. Ajiro is a bit concerned about her being too tired after the show to drive, but she assures them it’s fine; it’s just an hour drive from Yamaguchi to Tsuwano. As an aside, it seems that when talking about the brothers in front of other people, Miku uses the name “Tensui” towards Gensui, and talks about the actual Tensui as of her “husband”. This little trick keeps the secret safe while still letting those in the know differentiate which brother she means.

“Usually we let a staff member drive,” Gensui says. “My brother and I have countless methods of hiding from them. However, it’s best not to involve the staff in any discussions about the case. We’ll be taking our leave before the rest of the troupe.”

Miku starts to drive home with Tensui in the passenger seat. Gensui brings out a small basket of sandwiches that Miku prepared earlier.

“I can’t guarantee they will taste good, but please, help yourselves,” Gensui says pouring them more coffee. It seems like he’s just performing the typical Japanese humility act where you put down your own family to come off as more humble… but as soon as Kirigirisu bites into a sandwich, he realizes Gensui’s line was a honest warning. It’s not that the food tastes bad or good, it’s just… strange. Unbalanced? Something. Is Miku simply a bad cook? For some reason, Kirigirisu thinks that it’s a strange flaw for her to have. Doesn’t fit her image at all. Very strange, he continues to marvel as he wolfs the sandwiches down.

The conversation finally shifts to the case.

Three mysterious deaths have taken place so far. The first to pass away was Saimon Tamako, who seems to have died of old age on September 19th—the day of her 99th birthday—during the great celebration that about a hundred people attended, Ajiro and his wife among them. The doctor who confirmed Tamako’s death didn’t notice anything unusual, especially considering that her health had already been worsening for about three months at that point. What’s remarkable is that around the moment of Tamako’s death all the lights went out, and once they turned back on, the previously red-and-white decorative curtain was now black-and-white, as if announcing the death.

A month later, on October 19th, Tamako’s daughter Akiko (65) suddenly collapsed while sewing props for a ball juggling routine. Still conscious, she called the rest of the family for help and was taken to the hospital, where a CT scan revealed a five-centimeter-long needle stuck in her chest. Her heart stopped on the way to another hospital. The death was ruled an unlucky accident; Akiko must have accidentally worn a piece of clothing that had the needle left inside, and some sudden move or impact forced it into her chest from the side. Perhaps she attempted to juggle the material balls she was sewing, which were found scattered on the scene of the accident.

The third death was the most mystifying. On November 18th, Saimon Yuuta (21) told the rest of the family: “Let’s all go together to the Tottori Sand Dunes tomorrow, I’ve got something interesting to show you”. He disappeared soon afterwards. The family had a bad feeling that a third tragedy in a row could occur on the 19th day of the month, so they headed to the Tottori Sand Dunes, about 200 kilometers away from Tsuwano, and spent the entire night searching for Yuuta. The next day rope was found sticking out of the famous horse-back dune, Umanose. When two strong tourists pulled on it, they unearthed what looked like a giant playing card—four of diamonds—and Yuuta’s body tied to it. Further digging revealed an equally giant empty card deck box connected to the card with the rope.

Everyone’s immediate thought was that Yuuta had been murdered, but his death was tentatively ruled as a bizarre accident or suicide. A young couple who visited the dunes at around 2 AM claimed they had witnessed a man, most likely Yuuta, digging out a hole and putting a big rectangular thing inside. There was no one else around at the moment. Seeing a strange man doing something suspicious the couple ran away in fear.

One theory is that Yuuta was trying to set up an illusion where he would pull out the giant card from the deck, but he fell (jumped?) into the hole he himself had dug out, causing the rope to get tangled around his neck and hang him. The fact that no Yoshikawa lines were found on the body (i.e. the victim didn’t seem to claw at his neck) may point to suicide, but the situation is still unclear and a murder might have taken place.

“And you want us to check if all those deaths aren’t actually murders,” Ajiro sums up.

“Exactly. I have questions I want you to answer.“

“If I may ask…” Kirigirisu interrupts. “Do you mean you are the client requesting our help, Gensui? Or… are you speaking as Soga Tensui right now?”

“The request comes from both me and my brother. Which means that when you’re talking about it in front of outsiders, your client is the one and only Soga Tensui. Back to the point… the questions that concern me pertain to the curtain change and Yuuta’s movements. Kirigirisu, in order for you to understand what problem I have with that first point, I need to tell you the method behind a similar curtain change in the show.”

Gensui produces a red-and-white piece of silk out of thin air (or rather, as Kirigirisu now understands, from where he had it palmed). It looks normal enough, but when Gensui strokes it expertly, the red color changes to black. The secret is so simple that even Kirigirisu can guess it once he gets the silk handed to him: what seems like a handkerchief is actually a reversible little bag. Turning it inside-out changes the colors displayed on the surface. A spectator won’t be able to guess the secret as long as the magician’s hand covers the bag’s opening.

“The curtain in the show doesn’t work the exact same way, but it’s similar enough,” Gensui explains. “It’s like a ring made of two curtains in different colors, connected on the top and the bottom, one side displayed to the audience and one hidden behind. Which side is visible can be changed by pulling on the material. It would take too long to change it manually, so in the show we use a system of dropping weights attached to the curtain with ropes. The thing is… when I checked the decorated stage the night before that birthday celebration, the curtain was just a normal piece of red-and-white fabric. Someone must have taken the show curtain out of our storage and switched it before the event. Both the storage and the stage were locked during the night, although anyone from our family could have accessed the keys, or perhaps an outsider picked the locks.”

“I don’t think anyone from the family or close friends would do it,” Ajiro says. “Everyone was sitting in the audience during the celebration, so they wouldn’t be able to turn off the lights, drop the curtain weights and turn the lights back on. Unless they had help from outside, that is.”

“That’s where my confusion comes from. There must be someone who switched the curtains and I want you to find them. My other question has to do with how Yuuta was able to get to Tottori Sand Dunes. It’s possible to get there by a train, but not a single station employee saw him. Besides, Yuuta disappeared around 10 PM. He wouldn’t be able to get to Tottori by 2 AM, which was when the witnesses saw a man digging.”

“It takes six hours to travel between Tsuwano and Tottori by train,” Ajiro adds. “He could have made it in time if he used a car, perhaps one of the trailer houses.”

“But none of our cars were moved, the last bus had long departed at the time, no taxi driver has seen Yuuta, and it would be hard to hitchhike in the middle of the night. The only explanation possible is that someone either borrowed him their car or gave him a ride to Tottori.”

“Again with that mysterious someone,” Ajiro mutters. “Someone whose identity and motives we will have to investigate in order to decide if the case really is serial murder.”

Nihon Tantei Club has never before seen such a mystifying case, that is for sure.

“Ah, we’re almost there,” Gensui notices looking out the window.

“Won’t it be bad if someone sees you two through the window?” Kirigirisu worries.

“Thank you for your concern, but I don’t see a problem. I’m the only Soga Tensui around.”

Kirigirisu glances towards the passenger seat and realizes it’s empty. Tensui must have hidden somewhere when they were busy talking.

--

The Saimon residence is located in the heart of Tsuwano, near a small church at the end of the famous Tonomachi street filled with traditional samurai residences. Miku leads the detectives through a small bridge over a canal and through the main gate, which is decorated for the wake. The house is a splendid mansion with the ceilings set low. It was renovated many times since its establishment back in the Kamakura period.

Ajiro's wife Mizuki arrived before them, so they head to meet her in the parlor. Mizuki as always is kind; Kirigirisu can feel that calm and warm familiarity emanating from her. She’s already wearing her mourning clothes and asks them to change too. She’s not just here because of their friendship with the Saimons; before she married, Mizuki worked in her family’s funeral home, and even now helps their affiliate organize the wake.

About a hundred people gather to attend the wake. The family members approach the coffin in small groups in order to offer incense. Ajiro tells Kirigirisu to just observe everyone for now, so he can explain who they all are later.

[Better bring out your copy of the Saimon Family Tree to prepare for that, everyone. We’ll be going through a lot of people in a very short time.]

The family members look as follows:

— A marriage in their forties accompanied by a bawling teenage girl. Yuuta’s parents and sister. Kirigirisu recognizes the sister as one of the three girls he saw performing with a smile just hours ago.

— A quiet man who seems to be Yuuta’s uncle, along with his wife and two crying teenage daughters. These two mourning girls are the rest of the show’s happy energetic trio.

— Tensui and Miku, together with two identical twin boys that have to be their children. One of the twins played Kotensui in the show, but they are so similar Kirigirisu isn’t able to tell which one it was. They look even smaller without Kotensui’s costume on; they can’t be older than Ajiro’s son Souya, and it’s hard to believe one (both?) of them could perform acrobatics. [If I counted correctly, they’ve just barely turned four last month. Talk about starting young.] When looking at their faces, Kirigirisu for some reason feels a little faint. These two look almost too pretty in a way, like little angels, probably having inherited Miku’s mysterious charm.

— A short old man around seventy years of age, his eyes sharp, his entire demeanor suggesting he’s not just some random ordinary person. In that way he reminds Kirigirisu of Ajiro’s grandfather Soujin.

 — In a stark contrast to the old man, a pair of a middle-aged father and adult son who are solidly built and nearly two meters tall, bringing to mind two walking mountains.

— Another man, a bit smaller than the walking mountain, but still built like a tree trunk. He’s followed by a woman of enchanting beauty; if Miku’s looks can be described as “mysterious”, this woman would be “dangerous”. The pair is accompanied by their college-aged son who looks like a miniature of his father.

 — A woman in her early thirties with a supermodel figure. Judging by the order in which they appeared, she, the walking mountain man, and the tree trunk man are probably all children of that important old man from earlier. The women is followed by her two kids: a teenage son and the girl who played Koyomi.

— Next, a woman who for some reason seems familiar to Kirigirisu (was she playing someone in the show?), and her high school age daughter.

— A man with glasses looking like your typical bank worker, along with his high-strung grade schooler son.

— A seemingly unemotional hunchbacked man in his forties together with his younger wife, who looks so astonishingly similar to Mizuki that Kirigirisu has to make sure Ajiro’s wife is still sitting next to him. The two could very well be twins. The mysterious woman is holding hands with a 3- or 4-year-old girl, while the man holds another baby daughter in his arms.

— The last member of the family: a man in his late twenties whose eyes still have that boyish gleam in them, who simultaneously seems to radiate peace and safety.

It’s not hard to notice that many members of the Saimon family are strangely, almost unnaturally beautiful, to the point that Kirigiru’s head is spinning. Has he accidentally walked in on a Miss Funeral contest or what? The strange beauty doesn’t pertain just to women; even the unemotional or stern looking men are still handsome, and just remembering those two twin boys is enough to give him goosebumps.

--

Afterwards, Mizuki has to go help with other preparations, so the two detectives head to their designated room, where Ajiro explains the family’s long history.

Seven hundred years ago, in the Kamakura period, Yoshimi Yoriyuki established the Tsuwano Castle and the castle town. The Saimon family started by Saimon Genki has lived there ever since, even serving as chief ministers, which resulted in them accruing significant wealth and influence. During the Meiji period, the Saimons established deep relations with two families—Tsukumo and Tousen—who had a zaibatsu (a business conglomerate) controlling newly created silver mines. In order to show their friendship, three representatives of the families changed their names to feature the same kanji of tai: Saimon Taishin, Tsukumo Taigen, and Tousen Taikun. Those three rich men each married one of the three Tamakos, women with mysterious pasts who had been travelling all over Japan with a performance group. Soon, the Soga Tenju troupe was established.

From this moment Ajiro’s story switches to include quite lot of names, to the point that Kirigirisu has to get his notebook and write things down.

The three families kept their close connections, often intermarrying to the point they could well be defined as one giant family nowadays. Each Tamako gave birth to a daughter in the same year 1912: Tsukumo Haruko, Tousen Natsuko, Saimon Akiko.

Note that Tsukumo Tamako had two more children (Gentarou and Shougen) with Tsukumo Taigen, then married Saimon Hisayoshi (Saimon Taishin’s younger brother) and had one more child, Mitama. It’d be awkward to refer to two different women as Saimon Tamako, so everyone kept calling her Lady Tsukumo.

Akiko and Gentarou married, had three sons—Taishi, Akio and Takayoshi—and the “main family” was descended from them, now consisting of eight living members.

Taishi and his wife Yurine (who was born Tousen) are the grieving parents who we saw at their son Yuuta’s wake. Their teenage daughter is called Akiko, which is pronounced the same as her grandmother’s name, but written a bit differently. It’s hard to recognize him without makeup, but Taishi, the grief-struck father, is the very same mohawk clown that performed comedic magic for the audience’s amusement just hours ago.

The afro clown was played by Taishi’s younger brother Akio, that quiet contemplative man. Perhaps this natural peace seeped into his role a bit, making the afro clown less dramatic than his companion. His wife Chinami (born Tousen) played one of the Courtisanes, Nami Dayuu. Their two daughters, Chiaki and Chisato, were two thirds of the girl trio.

The last son of Akiko and Gentarou, Takayoshi, didn’t show up at the wake. Apparently he left home long time ago after a conflict with Taishi and now travels all around Japan performing street magic for a living. No one has been able to get in touch with him for a long while.

That was the entire main part of the family, which means that Tensui’s immediate relatives are all a part of the branch family. This includes Gensui (Suigetsu), Tensui (Ryuusui), Tensui’s wife Miku, and those mysterious twin boys, Juku and Joukei. [I know Juku’s name should be romanized as Juuku for consistency’s sake, but I’m just too used to calling him Juku at this point. Sorry.]

The family actually has two big residences. The one we’re in right now is called Kami-Saimon (“upper Saimon”) and only the main part of the family lives in it. The rest of the family and relatives occupies a house further down the river, Shimo-Saimon (“lower Saimon”), where all the prop storages and the like are located.

...or at least that’s how it all looked like until recently. The (no longer alive) head of the main family Saimon Tamako seemed to favoritize Tensui a lot, which resulted in him and his closest ones also being able to live in Kami-Saimon. Needless to say, Taishi detested not being chosen as the leader of the troupe despite being from the main family. They’re still in a conflict with Tensui over that.

To explain where the branch family came from, let’s move back to explaining the giant family tree. Late Tamako’s husband, Saimon Taishin, had a younger brother called Takezou. Takezou fathered two children, Juuzou (Tensui’s father) and Kyuuzou. Kyuuzou married the boss of the yakuza family Fujita, took on her name, and became the boss himself (though he has retired since). Kyuuzou was that short old man at the wake, and it’s now clear why he carried himself like the most important person around.

The two men who brought to mind walking mountains were Kyuuzou’s son Daisen and grandson Daisetsu. Daisen is a widower and works in a “respectable occupation” (i.e. is not a gangster).

The man big like a tree trunk is Kyuuzou’s second son, Hyousen. Hyousen is the current boss of Fujita-gumi, and his wife Shima (that dangerous-looking woman) is also involved in it. Their college-age son is called Hyousai.

The last of Kyuuzou’s three children is the tall woman with supermodel figure, Maki. She was once married to Tousen Yomi, who unfortunately died very young, leaving behind their two children: an intelligent teenage boy Matoki and a younger girl Yomiko. As it turns out, “Koyomi” is simply an anagram of the girl’s actual name.

Now let us back up a bit, because we haven’t talked about Tsukumo Tamako’s other kids. Her second child, Tsukumo Shougen, had a son Genya. Genya married Karan (born Tousen) and had a daughter Seika with her. Karan plays one of the Courtisanes, Hana Dayuu, and while her daughter didn’t show up in today’s show, she had performed quite a few times before.

Tsukumo Tamako’s last child, the one she had in her second marriage with Saimon Hisayoshi, is a daughter called Mitama. Mitama went on to marry Tsukumo Gensui—not to be confused with the Gensui we know; this one is Tsukumo Taigen’s younger brother. It was this Gensui, stage name Soga Tengen, who lead the troupe after Saimon Tamako, but an accident left him bedridden for the rest of his life. Tsukumo Mitama didn’t attend the wake because she had to take care of her husband and elderly mother.

Tengen and Mitama have four children, in order of birth:

— Tsukumo Tsushima, the bank teller looking man. His nervous son is Touji.

— Tsukumo Souma, the hunchbacked emotionless man. His wife that looks similar to Mizuki is called Yumeji (born Tousen). The couple has two small daughters, older Emu and younger Nemu.

— Tsukumo Ranma, the man in his twenties whose eyes are still filled with sincerity of a child. He’s the only unmarried person among the four siblings.

— Saimon Miku, Tensui’s wife.

Finally, we should mention that Tousen Natsuko also didn’t attend the wake, as she was taking care of her mother Tousen Tamako.

To sum up, there are 36 members of the family still alive: 13 Saimons, 12 Tsukumos, 5 Tousens and 6 Fujitas.

Unsurprisingly, it takes Kirigirisu a LONG time of re-reading his notes to make sense of the entire family structure.

“When you consider everything I just told you,” Ajiro says, “there are only three people who weren’t sitting in the auditorium during the birthday celebration and who could bring Yuuta to Tottori without others noticing their absence. One is Saimon Takayoshi, who left home long ago. Two is an unknown helper from outside, following orders of someone from the family. And three...”

Ajiro falls completely quiet in mid-sentence. Kirigirisu slowly finishes the thought. 

“Three… is Soga Tensui.”

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]