#now the real nightmare begins with king crimson

[wispisstillverybored67]

You think... Do you think that because Fugo's life was ruined by his actions in the heat of the moment, he doesn't trust to do the same thing again?

[demonvibez]

Impulsive

Characters: Lord Diavolo x GN! Reader Rating: Teen Tags: comfort, fluff, gn reader, MC uses magic, kissing Word Count: 4.3k+ A/N: Happy (Belated) Birthday to My Sweet Prince, Lord Diavolo ♡ I'd give him all three realms if I could, but for now, I'll settle for sharing this silly little fluff fic. This may be my favorite thing I've written so far, so I hope you all enjoy it as well!

Late was the hour at the House of Lamentation, when you find yourself tossing and turning in your slumber, your mind currently pulled into the depths of a rather vivid nightmare. It was one of those nightmares that just feels so real, filling your senses and sending you running from the unknown terror, your heart pounding as you run deeper into what looks like the House but feels like a maze. Surely there aren't this many hallways when you're awake?! And so many doors! You run to the end of the hall, ripping open the large double doors and running into the next...which seems eerily identical to the last. Except when you get to the end of the hall this time, you run into a dead end. Panic now striking your heart you turn to the window, only for it to vanish as you touch it. A crimson ooze begins to drip down the walls, and you can feel the shadow entity getting closer, your breathing becoming more erratic as your back presses into the corner. You're trapped. Something reaches out towards you from the abyss, it's sharp claws coming into view the closer it gets.

Just before it can grab you by the neck, you fully awaken from your night terror, pushing yourself to sit up in bed so that you may try to catch your breath. You hyperventilate for a moment, grabbing your chest with one hand as the other maintains a tight grip on the bed sheets as your eyes quickly dart around the room. You're awake, and you're okay. You snap your fingers to magically turn the lights up, so that you may inspect the room closer. Nothing on the walls - and you let out a relieved sigh. You sit with yourself for a moment, in an effort to allow your breathing to return to normal, before flinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. You cross the room and make your way over to the window near your desk. Reaching out to touch the window, a slight hesitation makes your hand tremble. As your fingertips touch the cool pane of the glass, you breathe out an even bigger sigh of relief. The window didn't disappear this time - you are definitely safe and back in your own reality.

So, why can't you shake this eerie feeling? That same looming anxiety that filled your mind as you were being chased by the shadow creature. You shake your head, trying to just will it away, as you pick up your jacket from the back of a chair and pull it on. You cross your arms to hug yourself as you walk back over to your bedside table. Eyeing your DDD on the charger, you reach down to pick it up, unlocking it and opening the contacts in one fluid motion. Before you can even process what you are doing, you are already dialing a number, the phone pressed to your ear as you sit down at the edge of the bed. It's not until you hear his voice at the other end of the line do you really register just what you're doing. The Future King of the Devildom murmurs your name, a slight hint of concern lacing his voice - he's surprised to hear from you at this time of night. 

"Is something wrong? Are you alright," he asks you. He has no idea that the sound of his voice alone is so soothing to you. You let out a shaky breath that you had no idea you were holding, scooting back on the bed so that you can lean against the wall.

"Y-yeah...I'm okay...I-" you cut yourself off, your eyes briefly widening. Are you really bothering Lord Diavolo with your foolish little problems? It was just a nightmare, and you're awake now. You're sure the Prince has way more important things to worry about than the silly night terrors of a human. "I'm so sorry for bothering you, I know you must be busy wi-" he cuts you off by saying your name once again, this time with a slightly firmer tone.

"I've told you time and time again that you may come to me for anything, at any time," he reminds you. Softening his tone, he exhales before continuing, "Please. Tell me, what's wrong?" He truly meant it when he said you can come to him for anything. It warms his heart to think about you coming to him for help, especially when you have so many demons around you that are also willing to give you the world.

"It's...I just...it's gonna sound really stupid..." you trail off, as you fidget with the hem of one of your blankets.

"I assure you, nothing you could possibly say to me is ever going to be 'stupid.'" As you let out another exhausted sigh, you can hear the squeaking of his desk chair as he leans back against it. Lord Diavolo has always been very sweet to you, doing his best to accommodate all of your needs since you've dropped down into his realm. He always seems to have the answer to your problems, especially the more massive ones - what will it hurt to vent to him now?

"I...had a rather vivid nightmare. It felt so real to me..." You begin to describe your nightmare in great detail, not holding back any of the emotions that came along with it. Retelling this graphic tale almost makes you feel as though you are reliving it, and the crack in your voice pierces Diavolo's heart as you try to hold back tears while you finish your story. "And then I woke up," you say with a sniffle, "I guess I was quite shaken by it all, and I called you because...well, it was kind of an impulse to be honest, but I think I just really wanted to hear your voice," you admit, a rosy blush painting your cheeks. You were a bit glad Lord Diavolo couldn't see you right now - you aren't sure, but you probably look like a bit of a mess. Something else you are unaware of, is exactly how much your admission has effected the Young Prince. The idea that you instinctively sought him out for comfort is enough to get his heart racing, and now it is time for him to act on impulse - which is something he is rather good at.

"I'll be by the House of Lamentation to pick you up soon," he declares, the sound of his chair scuffing the floor ringing out across the phone line. Your eyes widen, and you jump up to stand on your bed in surprise.

"Uhhh...excuse me, WHAT?!?" There's no way he's serious. You hear his signature laugh, and now you know he's not joking.

"I'm coming to pick you up! A change of scenery is always a good idea after a nightmare - especially when the nightmare occurs where you're trying to sleep. I'll just leave a note for Lucifer, and bring you back to the Castle. This is going to be so much fun," he says excitedly. An impromptu sleepover with the Future King of the Devildom does sound like a fun idea - but doesn't he have more important things to do than to entertain you?

"Lord Dia-"

"AH! What did I say about using my titles when it's just us?" You can't help but to let out a tiny giggle, and it sends his heart over the Devildom moon.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry. I just don't want to be a burden on you. It's late, and I'm sure you have more important things to-"

"Nonsense," he cuts you off again. How can you possibly think you could ever be a burden to him? "I had just finished my work for the night when you called, and Barbatos hasn't even started the tea yet. We are just going to quickly portal over to you, and bring you back. It will be no trouble for us at all. Please, let me help you." Please, just let him take care of you. If you could see the look in his eyes right now, you'd see how much he yearns to pamper you with all of his affections. You spend so much time time and energy taking care of all of your demons, he wants so badly to be the one doing the same for you. Let him show you that he can be there for you, that he is capable of being your protector - even if it's from terrors created by your own mind.

"Okay...if you're really sure, then I'm game. Can you just give me like...five minutes?" He honestly doesn't have to ask you twice to hang out, you'll take any excuse to see Diavolo. You don't want to inconvenience him, but he's insisting, so why not take the gorgeous golden-eyed demon up on his offer? And even if you won't be able to fall back asleep, at least you'll have his company; his perfect smile, his soothing voice, the warm embrace of his hugs...

Before the Prince can even answer, he hears the sound of you jumping off of your bed and running around in your room. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle at how cute he thinks you are. He would tell you that there's no need to bother yourself, that you may come as you are - but as he finds himself in front of his own mirror, straightening his tie and hand-combing his hair, he relates to wanting to look impressionable for the person you're so deeply in love with. He's unsure if you return his feelings, but the idea of you scrambling around your room just to look cute for him for a surprise date has heat rising to his cheeks - which is ironic, seeing as you're doing exactly that.

"Of course! I'll send you a text just before we head over," he replies. Just after saying your goodbyes and hanging up, you race to your bathroom to freshen up your face. You had already tore off your jacket and discarded half of whatever other comfortable clothes you had worn to bed that night. Is this really about to happen?! Talk about a plot twist! One moment you're thrashing around in bed consumed with your nightmares, and the next your about to be picked up by the Future King to go hang out with him at the Demon Lord's Castle - your life can be such a rollercoaster at times.

You quickly wash your face at the sink, splashing the water in your face once more and staring into your owns eyes in the mirror, making sure this isn't also a dream. You've experienced nested dreaming a few times in your life, and it would sure as hell be disappointing if you weren't really about to see Diavolo. You shake your head, brushing off the thought, before turning off the water and exiting the bathroom.

You walk back across your room, and freeze in the doorway of your closet. The back of your closet is so dark - no matter how long you let your eyes adjust, the shadows casted in the back corners of the room still have this eerily ominous feeling. Your hand shakily reaches out towards the light switch, the hair on your arm standing up as anxiety courses through your veins. Just as you're about to flip the light switch on, a loud ding comes from your DDD, and you can't help but to jump. Your heart pounds in your chest for a few seconds before you remember why your phone had dinged - they must be on their way. Damn it! You're nowhere near ready! You flip the light on and start scrambling through your clothes, pulling out a pair of cute pajamas and putting them on. 

Just as you are pulling the bottoms up to your hips, you hear a slight cracking sound coming from the hallway, followed by a low humming noise. Barbatos' portal - they must be standing outside. Just as you arrive at the door, you hear a light knock, and you open it to find the Prince standing there in his RAD uniform, fist still raised to knock a second time. Behind him you can see Barbatos still in Diavolo's room, on the other side of the portal, his back turned to you as he sets a tray of sweets down on the glass coffee table by the bed. You look up at the gorgeous demon in front of you, and you can't help but to smile as your eyes connect with his. And the way he smiles back down at you, with a radiance brighter than any Celestial sun, is enough to make a small flurry of butterflies dance around in your stomach.

"Hey there! Ready to go?"

"Yeah, one second. Just need to grab my jacket real quick-" you go to turn around and pick up your jacket that you had previously thrown onto the floor, but Diavolo's voice interrupts you once again.

"There's no need," he says in his usually jovial tone, "I can have Barbatos light the fireplace if you'd like." Just then, you see the Butler turn around and nod at you, before speaking to you through the portal.

"Yes, and I have just started steeping a fresh pot of Hellfire Rose Tea. We have plenty of warm blankets, fresh from the dryer. You will not go cold in our care," says Barbatos, his lips curving upward in a knowing smile. For half a moment you wonder to yourself if he already knows what the course of tonight's events will be, but you don't really have too much time to wonder about that right now. 

"And of course, if all else fails, there is this." Looking down at his own chest, he starts unbuttoning his red RAD jacket. A blush creeps across your face as he unbuckles the golden belt and pulls the coat off of his large frame, holding it out for you to slide into. Your heart feels as though it is going to jump into your throat as you slide in your arms, the scent of Diavolo's cologne filling your senses as you pull the jacket tighter to your chest. The coat is rather baggy and long on you, but you feel so cozy that you don't even care. 

"Thank you so much for all of this, Dia," you say with a light blush still on your cheeks as you look up at him bashfully. Hearing the little nickname you've given him, the Young Prince can't help but to blush as well. No one has ever been so informal with him; he hopes you'll use it more, the sound of it coming from your lips like music to his ears. You move to try to take a step forward, but your feet accidentally step on the bottom of the coat, causing you to stumble forward a little.

"Oops, I suppose I didn't take that into account. Here, let me help you with that." And before you can even ask, Diavolo bends down and scoops you up in his arms. You let out a small yip as you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, your little human hands struggling to grip him through the oversized coat sleeves as he adjusts you in his hold. He turns around with you to walk back towards the portal, and you tap his shoulder to stop him for a moment.

"Wait! One sec..." With your right arm hooked around him, you raise your left, shaking it a bit so the sleeve falls down your arm. Your reach your hand out behind him, focusing all of your energy towards the DDD that you dropped on your bed earlier. You close your eyes, visualizing in your mind the phone rising up off the bed and floating into your hand. The more you focus on it, the stronger your intent becomes, and a surge of magical energy within you causes you to open your eyes back up just as the phone glides itself across the room and into your grasp. At the feeling of the phone's plastic case hitting your hand, your eyes widen in surprise as you let out a joyful laugh. "I can't believe it finally worked..." You show Diavolo the phone you just grabbed telekinetically, pride filling your chest and spreading to the smirk on your face.

"Nicely done! Seems as though your sorcery lessons are paying off." That same pride fills the Prince's chest, for you find new ways to surprise and impress him every day.

"Thanks, I've been working quite hard on that particular skill." You slide the phone into one of the coat's pockets before wrapping your arm back around him. He walks the two of you through the portal, and over towards the grey-striped couch next to his bed. The cracking noise of the portal closing rings out once again, the subsequent hum it produced now falling silent. The only sound currently filling the room is that of Barbatos arranging a tea set on the glass top of the coffee table, along with the slight squeak of the couch cushions as Diavolo sits down with you, setting you in his lap as he leans back into the corner of the couch. You unwrap your arms from around his neck, making yourself comfortable and leaning back against him, your cheek resting against his collar bone as you drape an arm across his torso. Diavolo wraps his arms around you, pulling you just a little bit closer, and your eyes flutter closed at the warm embrace. That is, until, you remember...

"Oh, fuck," you exclaim, your eyes snapping back open, "did we ever leave a note for Lucifer?" Sure, the Young Prince is best friends with the Avatar of Pride, but it's still usually better for you to ask for permission from Lucifer rather than forgiveness. The Morningstar is no stranger to handing down punishments - even to his favorite human. Diavolo looks down at you, and the look on your face must have been priceless, for you can feel the laughter building up and shaking his chest before ringing out into the open air.

"Yes, in fact, I sent him a text message before making my way over to you. The last thing we want is a concerned Lucifer tearing apart the realm looking for you." And the last thing Diavolo wants is an intrusion by the Eldest Demon Brother. Lucifer always prides himself on how well he looks after you, always stepping up to the plate when he is needed the most. And while he admires all of the traits that afford Lucifer's status as the Avatar of Pride and Right Hand of the Future King, Diavolo sometimes feels as though it hinders his ability to get closer to you. He does his best to mask his jealousy, but you don't miss the way he pulls you just a little bit tighter to his chest. You can feel a faint tingle coming from the location of Leviathan's pact mark, causing your eyebrows to slightly furrow. Was Lord Diavolo really feeling envious towards Lucifer? Over you? Your eyes quickly dart over to Barbatos, who is currently walking out of the bedroom door, most likely to fetch the pot of tea. As the sin continues to stimulate the sigil on your skin, you can only deduce that it must be Diavolo. 

"Indeed, the last thing we want is for our time together to be cut short," you say, looking up into those gorgeous honey eyes of his, "At this point, I'm kinda glad I had that stupid nightmare..." The way he gazes down at you, so loving and full of affection, causes your heart to start beating at a rapid pace. You aren't sure if you're reading the situation correctly, but the moment just feels so...right. Impulse has led you both to this exact moment, and into the arms of the demon you've been pining over for so long. Perhaps your instincts will be right again this time.

Your hand floats up to cup his cheek, and immediately you can feel him lean into your touch. You hear him murmur your name, spoken in a tone laced with a longing you hadn't heard from him before. You both lean into each other, your lips meeting in a kiss that you both felt like you had waited an eternity for - like you both had been trekking across a barren desert, and you finally found an oasis in each other. Your hands glide up so they lace through his hair, as he pulls you so you're facing him, his hands resting on your hips. You lightly nibble his bottom lip, at which you can feel his large hands give your hips a little squeeze, and he obliges you by deepening the kiss that you're both so entranced by. 

You're both so lost each in other's tender embrace, wanting so badly for the moment to continue on endlessly, that you don't even hear Barbatos re-enter the room. The Butler was really doing his best not to interrupt the two of you - he was happy to finally see the Young Master making progress with you, in regards to his admiration. Neither of you had heard the sounds of the door opening and closing shut, so he was a little surprised that the sound of the teaspoon clinking on the glass tabletop is what grabbed your attention. You jump a little bit, your nose bumping into his slightly, before looking over your shoulder to see Barbatos with an amused look on his face - you erupt into laughter, with the other two following soon after. 

"My apologies, I did not mean to interrupt the two of you. However, the tea is ready, along with a few snacks that I have prepared that I know you are both fond of." You give Diavolo a little peck on the cheek, causing him to have the goofiest grin in all three realms, before sliding off of his lap and sitting next to him. Your hands have a slight tremble from all of the excitement, and the last thing you want to do is spill scorching hot Hellfire Rose Tea all over Diavolo and yourself. You reach for the cup of tea Barbatos prepared for you, about to take a sip as the Butler hands a plate of sweets to the Prince.

"Would you like for me to enchant the tea? To ensure that your nightmares will cease," he asks, as he crosses the room to put some music on the record player, turning the volume down so that it may play in the background. 

"No," you say with a slight blush, your eyes darting to Diavolo from behind your teacup, "I have Dia now, so I think I'm good." You smirk as you take a sip, maintaining eye contact with Diavolo as he takes a bite into his Hellfire Mushroom Rolled Cigar Cookie, the blush spreading across his tan face as your words sink in.

The two of you spend quite a bit of time together that night, just sitting in each other's arms and talking about everything and nothing. It started off just chatting in more detail about the contents of your nightmare, but quickly digressed into talking of your fears, your dreams, your ambitions, your aspirations. Diavolo has never connected with another being like this before, and he's all the more glad he gets to grow such a connection with you. And while he listens to your voice, he comes to the realization that there's no one else he'd rather bare his infernal soul to in all three realms. His visions of the future always have you in it, and he couldn't be happier to hear that you feel the same way. You both continue to exchange stories of your fondest memories, making plans to create new memories together in the future. 

Just as Diavolo gets halfway though his story - one of the many tales of him causing chaos to then sneak out of the Castle - he feels the weight of your cheek fall against his shoulder. Your breathing steady and one of your hands gripping his shirt as you accidentally fall asleep in his lap. Between his soothing voice, the soft lull of the music, and feeling completely safe in his arms, you couldn't help but to drift off to dreamland. And he can't help but to just sit and watch you for a moment; you look so beautifully at peace in your slumber, he wants to etch it into his mind permanently. He eventually picks you up as gently as possible - you only stir once or twice. The first time at the motion of him picking you up; the second when he sets you down on his bed and you subconsciously miss the feeling of his warm embrace as he goes to quickly change his clothes. 

He slides into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him, your back pressing up against his chest. As your feel his warmth envelop you, you turn over to face him, one of your arms wrapping around him as well while you're only half awake. He lays on his back, pulling you on top of him, and you lightly nuzzle his chest and mumble an 'I love you' before you fall back fully asleep again. Diavolo's heart feels so full - he never knew three simple words could mean so much to him. He presses a kiss into the top of your head before laying back and shutting his eyes, happier than he's ever been in his life. And while he doesn't want you having anymore nightmares, he'd give anything to spend the rest of his nights like this with you.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

[althea-and-alcestris]

Origins

Imagine an AU where Althea is reborn as Silver's twin sister (biologically) after Alcestris dies as a nearly sick twist of fate (being reborn as the child of your enemy). She too put under the sleeping spell by the fairies, slumbering away along with her brother for 200 years and waiting for someone to love them until the retired General comes by the thorn infested and abandoned castle. Lilia's presence immediately awakens the twin babies from their 'blessing' because there is finally someone who can love them unconditionally after their parents perished in war. He gives his blessing to them, naming them Silver and Althea. Silver's blond hair changes to silver but Thea's hair remains the same ashy blonde..instead it's her right eye that changes. From the soft hazel brown that her left eye is like it becomes a fiery crimson red which hits Lilia too close to home. She looks just like the young half-fae that was so brutally murdered by the humans..but this child is not to blame and neither is Silver.

He raises them in the little cottage near the Zigvolt residence and often visited by Malleus, the twins both wanting to be knights along with little Sebek and so Lilia trains all three of them. Even though the little girl wants to wield a sword as well, she's always playing the role of the princess that the two boys need to save. Silver has the ability to attract small woodland creatures or even one as big as a bear, Althea on the other hand was gifted with a voice so heavenly some might even say it can do wonders.

The envelope of invitation from Night Raven arrives to Silver, meaning he can enroll into the college but Thea is upset about her brother leaving, refusing to accept being left alone in the cottage or in the care of the Zigvolt family so Lilia somehow manages to convince Crowley to let her enroll as well (because he is so kind as we know). Sorted into Diasomnia just like her father, twin brother, older brother figure and later her childhood friend (and crush(?)) .

Despite Silver having a sleeping curse that makes him doze off randomly throughout the day, Thea has the opposite. She's very much an insomniac, having trouble falling asleep even at night. Lilia also couldn't find a cure to this just he couldn't to Silver's condition.

Ashe (Yuu) shows up in the Opening Ceremony of their second year in NRC as the magicless human from another world. Thea quickly befriends the little outsider, making them best friends and her also helping them battle the Overblot incidents. But as time passes she begins to dream about a strange girl in green armor that looks very similar to herself and a man with long blond hair and silver armor. She can't put her finger on who either of them are but she feels that she's supposed to know.

Then inevitably come the time when Lilia announces he will be dropping out of college and move to a far away country because he's losing his magic, ultimately leaving his kids behind which leaves both Silver and Thea upset. This leads to Malleus's Overblot and the nightmare begins (get it?), him putting everyone on the island to sleep. Silver uses his Signature Spell to travel into Lilia's dream along with Sebek, Ashe, Grim and Thea. There they will unravel all the secrets and truth that has been kept hidden from them by the elders.

Silver and Thea discover their true origins, finding out their real parents being the enemy of the faes and thus General Lilia and Thea recognizes Knight of Dawn as the man who always showed up in her dreams. Thea however is hit with a bonus set of bricks. Discovering that she had a past life..as the half-fae girl that she also used to dream about. She finds out what happened to her and the truth is as painful as it gets. Alcestris was murdered by the Men of Steel, more specifically King Hendrick who is non-other than her and Silver's uncle. And she right now is the reincarnation of that unfortunate half-fae soldier, reborn as the child of the enemy who are the reason of her death in the first place. She's just as distraught as Silver is about their origins but Sebek and Ashe are there to pull both of them out of the darkest pit of their life. Life moves on and they're not to blame for the actions of their ancestors, they're still worthy of love..

[loki-hargreeves]

Loki x Reader - Thanos controls You

Warnings: angst, mentions of torture, mind-control, fighting, choking, blood and gore, more angst (it's a lot ok)

Word Count: 5,8K

Summary: After failing to deliver the Tesseract, Loki has been living in fear that Thanos will one day find him again and seek revenge. You have been missing ever since Loki was imprisoned after what he did in New York. Little did Loki know that you were with Thanos all along. During the events of Infinity War, Thanos makes you battle Loki in order to obtain the Tesseract

Author’s Note: I know Thanos doesn’t have the mind stone at the beginning of Infinity War but it’s fiction and I’m gonna do what Marvel does best, ignore canon. Let’s blame the Other’s powers, okay? Please enjoy this angsty little thing! :)

YOUR POV

“There’s room for more!” Loki yelled over the cries of scared children and their crying families. There was no way he would send a half-empty escape pod on its way to Midgard. That’s when he saw a child all by herself a little further away. She was clinging onto the wall for dear life and the ship trembled due to the impact of getting shot at. Her parents were nowhere to be seen. Dead. Loki felt sick to his stomach when he knew they were most likely dead. Thanos’ children were slaying kids and their parents heartlessly and they had the audacity to say they were being rescued. That their deaths were part of something bigger than life itself.

They viewed Thanos as a god who was being merciful even when he ripped a beating heart out of someone's chest.

Loki’s heart clenched in his chest painfully. Before it would be too late, he made his way to the tiny child and picked her up carefully. She seemed to recognize the prince but she wasn’t afraid of him. Instead, she hugged Loki so she wouldn’t fall out of his grasp.

“Where’s mommy?” The girl sounded absolutely petrified.

Loki didn’t know what to say as he made his way to the pod. Once he reached it, he saw a woman by the entrance.

“You’ll be safe here,” Loki promised the child as he handed her over to the lady. That’s all he had time for as he returned to the corridor. A particularly loud blast made him stumble over his feet and he had to catch his balance by taking support from the metal wall. The lights flickered, which meant the electronics of the ship were injured. There was a strange smokey smell in the air, which lingered with the irony stench of blood.

Loki couldn’t believe this was happening. Had Thanos finally come for him? Or did Thanos somehow know of the tesseract? Either way, if Thanos succeeded, he would kill two birds with one stone. The thought of this being all his fault made Loki nauseous. Guilt was nibbling at his skin and he knew it would eat him alive in the end. He never wished for this to happen!

As he ran down the corridors frantically searching for Asgardians that needed help, he heard different kinds of cries. People were letting out guttural screams. Others were pleading for their lives. Listening to the massacre that was taking place was worse than any nightmare Loki ever recalled having. They were all drained after Ragnarok and now Thanos had found them. It was haunting how ruthless fate could be.

Footsteps began to approach Loki and they were awfully close. Too close for his liking. He was quick to grab his daggers and turn to face whoever dared try to sneak up on him. When he saw a familiar figure, he nearly dropped the blades from his hands. Seeing you there was like shock itself punched him in the face.

You were there, real and clear as day.

How long had it been since the last time he saw you?

Ever since Loki had found out about his true nature, his life had gone downhill. After he ended up with Thanos and went through pure hell with him, he had changed. During his time away from Asgard, he had only missed one person truly - you. You, who had been by his side through everything. You, who hadn’t loved him any less when you saw his deep blue skin and those crimson red eyes that in Loki’s mind resembled blood. You, who had seen him as the rightful king of Asgard when everyone else betrayed him. The light of his life, the angel that had cared for him even when he felt like a monster.

You, who hadn’t been on Asgard when Thor brought him back to face Odin in trial. Loki had spent a lot of time in his cell, alone. He waited for you to appear but you never did and no one ever told him why. They rather left him to drown in his own vicious thoughts. It wasn’t until Loki pretended to be Odin that he began to learn what had happened on Asgard during his exile.

The people at the palace loved to gossip. Some claimed you had stolen a ship and left Asgard behind for good, that living as Loki’s widow had been too hard for you. In Loki’s darkest hours, he wondered if you truly felt ashamed for being associated with him. So ashamed in fact, that you had left it all behind and started anew. Sometimes, he believed that, but it never stopped him from trying to find you. He had searched night and day but it seemed like you had vanished into thin air. It had killed him more every day living in the unknown. His only wish had been that you were okay.

Now there you were, looking like you had never left. In a moment of pure shock, Loki couldn’t even begin to comprehend how you appeared on the ship - seemingly out of nowhere. He was happy to see you, despite how appalling everything else was at that moment.

“Y/N,” Loki spoke your name softly and dared to blink. When you were still there as he opened his eyes, he felt goosebumps all over his skin.

You looked at him so innocently, but then he noticed that something was off. The look in your eyes was cold. You weren’t in your typical Asgardian gear. Instead, you were dressed in dark armour that Loki could’ve sworn he had seen before, but he didn’t know where. Nevertheless, it made him feel uneasy.

“It’s been a while, Loki,” You attempted a smile as you walked closer to him, your husband. It still counted since he had never truly died, right?

Loki didn’t stop you as you walked right up to him. His eyes never left yours. Part of him wanted to kiss you, to hold you and feel you were real, but the shrieks in the background reminded him of how dangerous everything was. The daggers disappeared from his hands and Loki held you by your shoulders. He needed to see that his hands wouldn't go right through you, that he hadn't lost it.

“You need to get off this ship, Y/N!” He told you seriously. There was profound fear in his voice.

Instead of being worried at all, you just smiled back at him.

That was so unlike you.

“Y/N, do you hear me?”

“Oh, I do,” You confirmed nonchalantly, “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

A bloodcurdling cry startled Loki. They were coming closer and closer. The two of you wouldn’t be safe in that passageway for long. By now, his heart was racing with his thoughts. He felt panic settling into his bones.

Before Loki could say another word, you cupped his face rather gently. The fact that you didn’t seem disturbed by what was happening was eerie to Loki. He knew that you had a heart much bigger than anyone else he knew of. The version of you he remembered wouldn’t have been so calm. Something was terribly wrong.

“I need something,” You admitted and batted your eyelashes. Before, Loki would’ve found that quite adorable, but at that moment it was so wrong. He had been so ecstatic to see you and know you were alive, but now he almost wanted to run the other way.

“What?” Loki barely found his voice at that point. He felt sick and heartbroken. This had to be a nightmare, the worst kind.

“The Tesseract, Loki. I really need it,” You blurted it out.

Shivers ran down his spine. How did you know about it? Why did you even care? He was unsure if he could even trust you with the knowledge that he had it in his possession. Usually, he would’ve trusted you with his life without any hesitation, but you had been gone for years and returned like this, with bizarre motives.

You returned at the same time as Thanos and you were looking for the tesseract. Loki wasn’t a fool. He finally put two and two together and the realization was too arduous to believe. The idea of you and Thanos even meeting was something Loki could only see happening in his worst nightmares, but he was afraid it had already occurred. If so, he needed to hear it from you,

“Is Thanos making you do this?”

The tone of his voice seemed to offend you as you sent him a nasty glare. Your softness turned harsh and you pushed Loki against the metal wall with a loud thud. Before he could get out of the way, you grabbed your own dagger and pressed it against his neck so it was ever so slightly pressing against his exposed skin.

“He is not making me do anything. I am glad to serve the all-mighty Thanos. I won’t fail him, unlike you,” You snarled at Loki spitefully.

Never in a million years had Loki imagined this moment to happen. One where you would be fighting against each other. It was supposed to the two of you against the nine realms. Being held like that by the one person he loved more than anything was tearing his heart to shreds, but he tried not to show it.

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t truly you. He knew exactly what Thanos had done to you so you would act like this, and it only made it hurt so much more. It felt like someone was pouring salt into an open wound, and his entire body, heart and soul were wounded.

“Now give me the tesseract and we will be on our merry way,” You tried to obtain it again. This time you seemed more serious. Was it the tone of your voice or your weapon pressed against his pulse? Loki didn’t know.

“I don’t have it,” Loki lied as smoothly as he could because even thinking straight at that moment felt impossible. The world was caving in around him at supersonic speed.

You pressed the sharp edge of the blade closer to him, feeling how just a little bit more pressure would've broken his skin “You’re a great liar, my dear, but I know that’s not the truth.”

Loki didn’t want to fight you, but he didn’t see another way out. And it was good for him that you had learned most of the tricks from him. Your every move would be more easily predictable for Loki. He had to find a way to distract you.

“Why do you need it?” That was a foolish question. He knew damn well what Thanos would do if he got his dirty hands on the infinity stones.

“Why do you care?” You didn’t answer his silly question.

Suddenly, Loki grabbed your wrist tightly and yanked your arm to the side. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but Loki knew you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

At least your weapon fell out of your hand, but you knew how to defend yourself without it. So did Loki.

Loki tried to turn things around so he would have you pinned down against the wall, but you didn’t let him get that far. As he turned you around so your back was pressed firmly against his chest, you kicked your legs against the wall hard, pushing both of you back. Loki took the biggest impact as he fell on the floor, with you on top of him. Quickly, you rolled out of his grasp, turning around in one swift movement so that you were now sat on top of him, with your legs tightly against both his sides.

A powerful orb of magic grew above your fingertips and you brought it closer to Loki’s face - so close that he could feel the heat of your burning powers. The magic created an electric sensation on your skin. It felt like you pushed your fingers deep into warm sand. Toying with it was exhilarating, and seeing the astonished look on Loki’s face made it so much better. The green light of your powers cast light in his eyes, only deepening the look of disbelief that was painted all over him.

“It’s sweet that you’re trying not to hurt me,” You taunted him at that point, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

“This isn’t you, Y/N,” Loki groaned. He was so sure of himself.

You tilted your head and smirked, looking at him like a cat would at a mouse. “I don’t know, Loki. It’s been a while,” You explained casually and leaned closer and closer to his face, stopping when your noses brushed against one another. By now, Loki was frozen on the spot. He was trying to come up with a plan and he felt hopeless.

“I’ve changed,” You whispered to him and felt tempted to kiss him, to taste him. Would you taste his fear? His heartbreak? You were sure it would taste sweet.

“The torture must’ve been painful,” Loki pushed his feelings aside. Yes, he felt like his heart had been ripped to shreds, but he had to do something. He had to surprise you, even if it would hurt. Words could hurt more than actions, and if Loki wanted to survive and to help you, he needed to reach the real you even if the only way to do so was cruel.

How did he know? You narrowed your eyes and surprisingly, found yourself waiting for him to continue.

"I was trained well."

"Trained?" Loki spat out harshly, "I know you're afraid. He has promised you something worse than the pain he has inflicted on you already. It won't happen. If you let Thanos continue his reign, he will not care about your loyalty!"

"Shut up!" That was too much for you. With tears brimming your eyes from anger, you put your hand over his mouth to silence him. He didn't budge and you didn't know why.

You pushed the memories aside. The painful memories of the time Thanos first found you. It was wrong to think of it as torture. No, he had shown you what you're truly capable of. It was training. Training to become a stronger person after the hell you endured on Asgard.

But now that you found yourself thinking about it, it seemed like the memories were all blurred as if you were looking into the past through a broken lens. Someone had spilt oil all over it and the pictures were warped.

"I know you have it," You needed the tesseract. "Give it to me and then this will all be over," you removed your hand from his mouth because it looked like he wanted to speak.

Loki knew that if he’d push you, your magic could burn him, but at the moment he couldn’t come up with another plan. He couldn’t just stay on the ground as people were being killed on the other side of the wall!

"Okay," Loki blurted out. Okay?

For a moment, he had you surprised which was the perfect distraction.

Loki grabbed your wrists tightly and pushed you to the side, but not quickly enough. You released your magic and it graced the side of his face, making him growl out either in pain or frustration - or both. The two of you rolled over and this time Loki was on top, holding your arms pinned above your head. You were trapped because of one mistake. You couldn't believe Loki had used the element of surprise to turn the situation upside down.

Furiously, you tried to kick your legs free, but he had you pinned down beneath him and Loki was strong. There was no point in squirming, you had to come up with another idea.

The two of you faced each other and Loki revealed his face and the damage you had done. Your magic had burned his skin and left a bloody cut on his eyebrow. It had just barely missed his eye. If he lived, it would surely leave a scar.

You flinched when a drop of his blood hit your cheek and it rolled down the side of your face.

"What are you going to do, kill me?"

Loki could never bring himself to kill you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself with your blood on his hands. No. He had other ideas. Loki remembered what it was like to be under Thanos' control. He remembered how much it hurt to even think about the torture. He had to remind you, he had to make you see that this wasn't the real you.

"This version of you, or I certainly hope so," Loki replied mysteriously. Before you could ask him to elaborate, Loki released your wrist and slammed the palm of his hand against your forehead. In a split second, you were in a different place - in your head. You could've sworn you heard him mutter "I'm sorry," before everything turned black.

It was hot, burning hot. Metal chains were attached to you and they were glowing red. Torching. You could only scream in pain as the metal sunk into your skin, your bones, your nerves. It felt like he had chained your mind and with the tiniest movement of his finger, he could make you do his dirty work.

He, Thanos, was sitting on his throne. He was the puppet master and you the puppet. He didn't look at you fondly. No. He was smiling as he watched you cry your lungs out, letting out animalistic growls as the pain got worse. It was so overwhelming that every once in a while, you would scream until you passed out. But every time, one of his children would be there to wake you up.

It was time for another round. And another. And yet another. Would it ever end?

Each time you tried to resist the chains, the strings that were sewn onto you and connected to his fingertips, it hurt more. Eventually, you learned that allowing the strings to tighten around you made it hurt less. It almost felt good, like a long embrace after a long day.

"I don't want to hurt you, my child."

Lies. You knew that all he said were nasty lies, but sometimes it was easier to believe lies than the truth.

"Make it stop!" You would beg him. How long had you been there?

You could remember Thanos touching your face gently, which was so comforting after everything you had endured. At the same time, it made you sick. You couldn't believe that the one who had caused you distress could have such a gentle touch.

"You're ready," Thanos had realized. The Other had appeared right before you and his fingertips were pressed against one another, making him look like he was deep in thought. You had no idea what they were doing, but the next thing you knew was that you no longer felt pain.

The chains, the strings, they were all invisible. It looked like you were free, but the weight of the metal was still pressed against your skin. Had you imagined it?

No,

Deep down you knew that the strings were still attached to you, but they had only made it seem like you had a choice.

"Excellent," The Other's voice surprised you. You merely blinked and you had returned to the vessel. Loki was above you and the Other was standing right there, "You found him."

The Other used his powers to push Loki off you. Shock had made your entire body numb and you couldn't scramble up to your feet. It felt like your limbs had been turned to stone and you were anchored to the floor.

Loki got up slowly with his arms raised in surrender. He was well aware of the powers the Other had and Loki wasn't going to fight him now. If he followed you for long enough, then maybe just maybe he could come up with a plan. Loki looked at you as you finally got up. As you stood next to the Other, you couldn't believe your legs carried you. Something was so wrong. You felt sick and you couldn't shake it off. It felt like something had snapped within you, but you didn't know what.

"He is waiting for you," The Other explained as he turned to walk away, most likely to wherever Thanos was waiting.

Loki had no choice but to follow, and you walked behind, making sure he didn't try to escape.

Why did Loki make you remember that? What did he think he would obtain with making you relive something so awful? It hadn't worked, right?

There he was. Thanos was standing by a hole that had been ripped into the side of the ship. Magic was keeping it sealed so the vacuum of space wouldn't suck everyone into it. But still, the emptiness of space wasn't frightening at all compared to the titan who was standing right there.

Loki swallowed thickly as he saw him again. It had been years but he remembered everything like it had happened yesterday. Seeing Thanos standing in the middle of the piles of bodies, in the room that smelled like smoke and blood, was sickening. Thanos hadn't just killed a part of Loki. He had just slaughtered these innocent Asgardians with the help of his so-called children. He had taken you.

He will make you long for something as sweet as pain

Loki closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. They had stayed true to their threats.

"I know what it’s like to lose," Thanos turned around now that he knew Loki was there. At long last. Thanos had not forgotten what Loki had failed to do, and Thanos was a man of his words.

"To feel so desperately that you’re right yet to fail, nonetheless," Thanos continued dramatically and slowly made his way closer to Loki. He saw Thor on the ground, bloodied and weak. The brother of Loki. As tempting as the idea was to torture Thor right in front of the god of mischief, Thanos had different plans. If there was only one way Loki would ever give him the tesseract, it was going to be in order to save you. You were Loki's true weakness.

"It’s frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you, to what end?" Thanos looked Loki right in the eye. He could see that Loki was afraid, yet Loki never looked away from him. He was either too proud or fearless. Thanos had liked that about Loki initially. But he had failed Thanos greatly. It had cost him infinity stones.

"Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. And now, it’s here. Or should I say I am," Thanos finished his dramatics because it was time for action, to turn the wheels and see the bigger picture. This was the end of an era and a new beginning for a different universe. In Thanos' mind, only he could bring balance and order. He gestured for you to walk up to his side.

Too afraid of the idea of what would happen if you disobeyed, you walked right up to Thanos, feeling like a fly that was willingly flying into cobwebs. When you were close enough, you kneeled and dipped your head so he wouldn't see the worry in your eyes. It wasn't there before.

"I didn't obtain the tesseract from him, but I am sure that he has it, father," You muttered quietly. Why did you say that? There was a pounding headache growing within your skull. You didn't know what was right or wrong anymore and you couldn't fight it either.

Father

Loki clenched his jaw as he followed the situation closely. Hearing that made his blood boil. He wanted to rip Thanos apart after this. Never in a million years had he imagined this, to see you pledge your alliance to Thanos, kneeling before him and respecting him. Thanos didn't deserve that. Hell, Thanos didn't even deserve to look at you. It was wrong.

At that moment, Loki worried that his trick hadn't worked. That the memories hadn't awakened anything within you. That it was all too late now. This was the end, the one thing in life that was inevitable.

"I know, my child," Thanos let out a sigh. Then he grabbed you by your jaw like he had done before, forcing you to face him. "I know he has it," He repeated and suddenly his touch turned violent. He closed his hand around your neck tightly and you gasped for air helplessly. Your hands - tiny compared to his - grabbed his fingers and you tried to pry them apart, but he was tougher than you. Panic shot through your entire body when you realized you couldn't breathe. It turned your blood to ice and your poor heart was beating so hard you were afraid it would explode.

What was he doing?

The moment he pulled you to your feet, so high that you had to stand on the tips of your toes, he spoke, "The tesseract or her life," Thanos smiled devilishly, showing no remorse. He didn't care about you. You were a pawn in his game and if you would die at his feet, he would just walk over you and carry on.

"You choose," Thanos put the weight of the world on Loki's shoulders.

Loki wanted to rescue you from that monster, but he wasn't stupid. With all of Thanos' children surrounding him, he knew that he would be dead before he could reach you. Nonetheless, it didn't mean he wouldn't try. Seeing you clawing at Thanos' hand, fighting for something as simple as air and not getting it was heartbreaking. Loki's body was trembling with hatred and hurt. Tears blurred his vision and he struggled to keep his composure.

How had it all come to this?

The thought of Thanos with the tesseract was haunting. Soon he would have all the stones and he would destroy reality as they knew it. But Loki could live with that. He couldn't live knowing you had died when he had a chance to save you. Perhaps he was selfish for choosing you over the entire galaxy, but Loki didn't care. Nothing mattered if he would lose you again.

"Alright, stop!" Loki made up his mind. "I choose her," Finally, Thanos released his grip on you and let you fall on the cold ground. Your hands wrapped around your throat gently and you coughed painfully. It took you a while to finally breathe again, which was a huge relief for both Loki and you.

And now Loki was holding the tesseract. It was so bright that it painted the space blue. It was almost too bright to look at. The power within the stone was so strong, you could sense it like heat from the sun in spring after a long and cold winter. Loki was tempted to use the tesseract to grab you and escape, but he quickly shut those thoughts away. Thanos would follow him for the end of all days.

"You...you really are the worst, brother," Thor was following the situation to the best of his abilities. He spat out blood as he watched Loki holding the cube. It made him sad. Everything they ever knew was destroyed in the name of power, pure and raw power that the tesseract could offer. Was it worth it?

Loki glanced at Thor who was too weak to even get up. He didn't care too much about what he had to say. Then he looked at you. There you were, on the ground struggling to breathe after Thanos had crushed your windpipe. There was bruising on your skin that would only deepen with time. Time that you possibly wouldn't have after this.

He saw the tears running down your face, but you didn't sob and whimper. It seemed like you were as still as stone. You couldn't bring yourself to face Loki.

"I assure you," Loki found his voice and he addressed both you and Thor with his words, "the sun will shine on us again."

What did he mean by that?

You were ashamed to tilt your gaze to see him, to see the tesseract. The damn infinity stone had ruined it all! It was why Thanos had wrecked Loki, why he had destroyed you too. Why so many people were now dead. If you had one wish that could come true, you would wish for the tesseract to be destroyed forever.

Thanos had his back turned to you. Loki was slowly but surely making his way closer to the titan, almost like he was afraid to move but he forced his body to comply. Why? Why would he trade the tesseract for your life? It seemed like whatever spell you had been under had worn off. You were free, but it was more terrifying than being under Thanos' control under these circumstances. He didn't need you, and soon enough the vessel would be blown to bits. All of you, even Loki.

Would you be able to tell him how sorry you were?

"Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian," Thanos wasn't fond of Loki's strange choice of words.

"Well for one thing I'm not Asgardian," Loki replied quickly. It sounded a little bit witty, which was confusing. Where did the boost of confidence come from? Was he up to something?

"And for another," He continued dramatically. This time it was Thanos' turn to be confused.

"We have a Hulk."

Everything that happened after that happened so fast that you could hardly keep up with it. Loki dropped the tesseract and he leapt toward you. Thanos barely had time to turn around when a huge, green beast appeared out of nowhere and it seemed angry. It was eager to fight the titan.

Loki had you up on your feet in no time and the two of you ran away from the immediate danger. He led you to one of the many corridors on the vessel until no one could possibly see you. They were too distracted by the Hulk to even think about Loki and you. It wasn't until he was right in front of you that you could comprehend what was going on. He was kneeling on the floor and you were sat against the wall for support. Your hands were trembling so hard, it seemed like you were freezing up and you couldn't make it stop.

Loki had tricked Thanos.

He was relieved when you didn't fight him, yet he was unsure if it meant you were no longer under Thanos' control, or if you were simply too tired to fight.

He cupped your face gently and searched for answers in your expression. Back in the day, he had been able to read you like an open book.

You put your hands around his wrists and pulled him closer. You were desperate for the comfort he could bring in the midst of the living hell you were stuck in. How did he not hate you?

"I'm s- I'm sorry," You whimpered, finally cracking like a plate that had fallen on the floor. "I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," Loki couldn't possibly let you apologize for what had happened. He was possibly the one person who understood exactly what you had gone through and what it was like to follow orders from that monster. There was not an ounce of judgement to be found in his heart.

What mattered now was that you were together again. You could come up with a plan, but you had to work fast. As much as Loki wanted to hold you and comfort you, to feel that you were real, he knew there wasn't enough time for that.

"We need to get off this thing," Loki's mind was running a marathon as he tried to come up with an escape plan.

"They're gonna blow it up," You explained, feeling how bad your lips were quivering as you spoke. The moment Thanos had what he came for, they would leave and destroy everything they'd leave behind.

Shivers ran down Loki's spine as he heard that. It only confirmed that you had to act quickly. Loki wasn't sure how long the Hulk could fight Thanos. Would they be able to rescue Thor? How much time did they have?

The blood in the wound you had caused on his face was beginning to dry. It looked gnarly and all you wanted was to make it all better. Knowing that you had hurt him made you sick with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Loki. I didn't w-want to fight you," You sniffled, breaking Loki's train of thought. For the first time, he felt lost. He didn't really know what to do. Were there any escape pods left?

"I know," Loki assured you. "I know that. I was in your shoes when I was on Midgard," He explained briefly, unaware whether or not you knew of it. Had Thanos talked about him to you?

A sense of impending doom weighed you two down. If this was the end, then at least you were together, right? You and Loki against the nine realms, you would face the end together if there wasn't another way out. Whenever you had pictured your final day, you had imagined something entirely different than this. You would be old together, with hundreds of stories of your shared life. You would be surrounded by people you cared about. It would be calm, the exact opposite of this.

"I love you," You needed to tell him that. Any moment could be your last. The world would cave in and you would be gone forever.

Loki hated how much that sounded like a farewell, but at the same time, it had been so long since he had last heard those three words, let alone from you. Perhaps it was sick and twisted, but it made him smile.

"I love you too," Loki was sure of it. He had never stopped loving you and he didn't think he was even capable of that.

It seemed like you acted on instinct. You found enough strength to push yourself right against Loki. There was no hesitation in your actions as you kissed him. Loki closed his eyes when he felt your trembling lips pressed against his. Your scent, still sweet and familiar despite it all, punched its way into his lungs. He held your face gently but the kiss was passionate, almost despairing.

You wanted to scream out in agony because at last, you were reunited with Loki but not in the way you imagined. You felt like the shell of the person you were before, and now you knew for a fact that Thanos had done the exact same things to Loki. That titan had killed your souls beyond repair. But all you could do was kiss Loki and hold him and hope that he could feel how sorry you were. You didn't want to let go, afraid that if you did, it would all end. Just like that.

Loki broke the kiss, and for a moment you rested your foreheads against one another like you had done so many times before. It was comforting. You both wanted to stay close like that, but you recognised that you couldn't. Letting go of each other and getting up on your weary feet was so incredibly difficult, but it had to be done.

The world around you began to glow brighter. You quickly held onto Loki, startled as the mysterious light surrounded the two of you.

Loki held his breath as he studied the warm glimmering magic that had swallowed you. In between the bright rays of light, he saw all the colours of the rainbow. Shimmering. He saw reds and blues, yellows and greens, shining brighter than the other and it changed smoothly.

The Bifrost

He didn't know how or why, but he knew for a fact that you were in the magical portal. He couldn't see beyond it anymore. He couldn't feel the floor beneath his feet. It was like he was levitating mid-air, with you tightly in his arms.

Heimdall must've conjured the forefathers, letting their powers flow through him one last time. Where to? Loki assumed that anywhere would be better than where they had been mere seconds ago.

And it was a miracle.

A/N: I think it would've made more sense for Heimdall to send Thor or Loki to earth rather than the Hulk. So that's why I ended it like that

I'd absolutely love to hear your feedback! <3

TAGS:

Loki: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02 @myraiswack @prettysbliss @weirdfangirl2416

Forever Taglist: @iraniq  @embrycallsgirl  @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14 @i-have-arrived-bitch

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers Part 8 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1.7k

tw: dark content (self-harm)

masterlist

a/n: By no means do I condone self-harm or want to glorify it in the light of this chapter. As a person who struggled with physical self-harm in her early teens, I know the destructive nature of this type of activity. However, as my characters are not perfect and complicated, I see this particular mode of action as something she would try to do in order to alleviate her pain and confusion. If you have questions or concerns, my inbox is always open to having a discussion about it.

If you so wish, you may skip this chapter altogether. There will be a recap on the next one if you choose to skip for your mental health. Take care of yourselves and see you soon. (ALSO, I know I promised smut but I gotta give y'all a raincheck this go-round. SORRY PLS DON'T KILL ME)

You're on your forty-seventh file of scandals, coverups, and secret dossiers that you finally feel it. The fabric of your identity begins to unravel right before your eyes.

Everything you've known is a lie.

The CSB has covered up so many things. So many lives lost. So many people forced to flee. So many families ripped apart--

An email makes its way over to the server, and you open it, the words across the screen coming from Suguru.

I know it's late, but send over Yu Haibara's files when you can.

You hit the reply button and begin to type out: "You mean the boy you killed?" but you stop yourself, deleting the words rapidly. Instead, you attach the files and send them over, not even bothering to look at them. You can't do it. Not another file could be stored away in the annals of your brain.

Nothing is as it seems anymore. The lies... they pile up in your mind, flooding the spaces where you used to hold what you thought was true, what you thought was real. Now, they're overflowing out of your brain and into your heart and soul, plaguing you like the nightmares that face you down night after night, more like demons that lurk in the corners of your mind than full file cabinets.

You always wake up in a tangle of sheets and sweat, one of your various enemies' faces hovering over you right before you stare down the barrel of a gun and --

You stumble out of the chair, eyes wet with tears, and go to the sink in the bathroom to wash your face. After you splash water on your skin, you look up at your reflection, anger rolling through you at the way you look. Weak.

You're fucking weak.

The voice in your head that usually told you that you were doing okay, that you had it all under control, is now turning on you, spitting nasty words that stick in between the synapses of your brain a muddy your rational thoughts.

The voices rise to a fever pitch, and you suddenly see red, the entirety of the world descending into blood-colored madness. The shattering of the glass mirror only becomes a reality when you're standing above the sink, chest heaving as your thoughts silence one by one, like shutting off lights in a house.

But only one stays behind as a shard of the mirror clinks into the sink.

Escape.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

You could get rid of the feelings here. You could get rid of the thoughts. You could escape. Why hadn't you thought about this before?

"Do it."

Your fingers grip the jagged shard of glass carefully, and before you can stop yourself, you drag it across the inside of your wrist, end to end, leaving behind a red line of blood that immediately blooms. Crimson dots drop into the sink, and you stare at the color, mesmerized by the way the blood runs down your arm and into the porcelain bowl. But there's no relief.

No sense of freedom.

Maybe you didn't do it hard enough?

Maybe you didn't--

The door to your room slams open, and you turn your head just as Suguru comes rushing into the bathroom. The shard of glass is still in your hand, as well as the blood running down your arm, and Suguru catches this immediately.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you turn to him, shard extended.

"Don't come any closer."

"Y/n," he calmly whispers. "You don't look so good."

"I wonder why that is," you reply, and Suguru stares back at you, hands raised in surrender.

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like, Suguru?" you state in a trance. Your bullet wound begins to throb dully, but you ignore it, just like you're ignoring the blood dripping onto the tile flooring.

"Y/n, let's think about this."

"I don't want to think anymore!" The shrill scream is loud enough to make Suguru flinch, and you softly repeat, "I don't want to think anymore," over and over again as tears run down your face.

"I know," Suguru whispers. "I know. Will you let me help you?" You hiccup and drop the piece of glass to the floor, dissolving in a heap of tears and moans. You feel hands pulling you up from the floor and into strong arms, your head being cradled against a broad chest you've felt before. "Go ahead," Suguru encourages you. "Cry it out."

He carries you to another room in the building in silence, laying you on a firm bed and disappearing as you heave painful sobs into the sheets.

"Everything... hurts..." you gasp, and when Suguru reappears with a white bundle of cloth, a bandage roll, and some water, he nods.

"We're going to make it better, don't worry." He takes your injured arm and carefully wipes away the blood, examing the cut slowly. "Doesn't need stitches, thankfully." He turns to open the water bottle and hands it to you, silently telling you to drink while he bandages your wrist.

You drink the water greedily then lean back on the headboard, eyes closing down as Suguru works diligently on your wound. And then you remember the first time he did this for you and the mistake you made in your pridefulness.

"Thank you," you murmur, and Suguru looks up at your face, finally seeing some form of clarity cross your tear-streaked cheeks.

"You're welcome," he replies tenderly. "I have to keep you safe, remember? I promised you that I would." You don't answer him, but he finishes at that exact moment anyways, standing and placing the remnants of the bandage roll on the nightstand. The wound is now covered up completely, with no sign of blood seeping through the cotton and staining the white cloth dark red.

You watch as Suguru crawls into the bed beside you, sighing deeply as he runs his fingers through his locks. "Should I stay awake with you or do you want to try to sleep?"

"Sleep," you answer - albeit not confidently - and the black-eyed man obliges, pulling the thin sheet over you.

"I'll be right here," he affirms, but you reach out your uninjured arm and touch his hand. He instantly turns his palm up to let you grab his fingers, and you pull him closer to you in the king-sized bed.

"Hold me." A second passes with no movement, and Suguru whispers,

"Are you sure?" You nod, and he wordlessly scoots closer, wrapping an arm around you as you nestle into his side with your bandaged hand resting on his chest. His fingers rub a soft pattern up and down your skin, soothing you to the brink of sleep. "I've got you. We'll deal with everything else in the morning," Suguru murmurs as you slip off into a dreamless - and nightmare-less - sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning comes and goes.

Midday arrives, and you awaken from your terrorless sleep still encased in Suguru's grasp. Your eyes flick up to his face, which is peaceful in the midday light streaming in from the windows. The Leader of the Fallen Sun District is asleep and dead to the world around him, but the sound of his breathing lets you know he's on the brink of waking up.

Part of you doesn't want him to. You want to lay there without any responsibilities to him, without any concern, or further harm to either one of you. Maybe if you continued to sleep, all of this would become a distant memory. All of this would go away, and you could go back to living in ignorance.

But Suguru's stirring makes you stiffen, and you feel his arms tighten around you before sliding away.

"You're awake."

"Yeah," you whisper, and he sits up, pulling his knees to his chest.

"We need to talk about last night." You sit up as well, staring at the edge of the bed blankly. "Why didn't you tell someone about your declining mental health?"

"I didn't realize it until it was too late," you admit, looking at the bandage on your wrist. "But I won't be doing that again."

"Doesn't matter," Suguru interjects, looking over at you. You choose to avoid his gaze and stare at your feet, inhaling deeply. "I have to have someone watch you now. I want you to be safe, and now I'm not sure if I can ensure that without some oversight on my part."

"No," you exhale quickly, looking over at him in fear. "I'm better now, I promise."

"I'll have someone move a few of your things over here. That way I can keep an eye on you, just in case." Suguru continues, standing from his position on the bed. "I won't bother you. But I made a promise to you, and I'm going to keep it at all costs." He turns back to you, stating, "Today we'll take a day off and go into the town. I've been wanting to show you around for a while anyway."

You conclude the argument is over when he places a kiss on your temple, then walks into his bathroom, shutting the door and leaving you on the bed alone.

_____________________________________________________________

A car picks both of you up from the building, and when you slide into the backseat, Suguru points to the expanse in the distance.

"Take us to the marketplace." The driver nods, scars running up and down his pale face and his blue eyes looking up at you in the rearview mirror. Does this man even know that he's sitting next to the leader of the Fallen Sun district? Or is Kenjaku a faceless man, hiding behind walls of ones and zeroes?

The scenes that pass by you look identical to those of the city you know and love. There are children playing on the sidewalks, people carrying groceries, life carrying on as if the majority of their names aren't on some rejected list of people who defected from their previous society. Suguru notices your awe at the way things are, and looks over at you, smiling brightly.

"You'd be surprised what you can build from ashes, y/n."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23 @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on @sammytamaki @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling

[aurabird]

Haunted Dreams

Sausage just wants to sleep...but trauma weighs heavy on the mind.

Tw: Nightmares, blood/violence, brief disassociation

Also on Ao3

---------------------

He walked through Mythland, a casual stroll through the streets of his empire to see it in all its restored glory now that he’d removed the corruption that had overun it. His citizens greeted him as he passed and he made a point to at least try and speak with as many of them as he could.

Then the sky grew dark, thunder echoing as lightning split the heavens and suddenly, the citizens around him were gone, as if they’d never been there to begin with.

Sausage knew what the storm meant and he ran; fear in his heart and panic in his mind. He needed to get away, he needed to hide. He was fooling himself, there was no hiding from the harbinger of the storm, no matter how much he wished there was.

He ducked into a building as he was inflicted with a blindness spell, cowering in a corner like a frightened animal. Maybe...maybe if he pretended they weren’t here like Joel did then they’d go away. Positive thinking right? That’s what Gem always told him.

“Hello, Sausage.” Xornoth said with a wicked grin as he came into view, “You and I have much to discuss.”

“No! G-Go away! I don’t work for you anymore!”

The demon laughed, “Oh Sausage, did you really think I’d leave you alone? You will never escape me!”

The next thing Sausage knew was been teleported, now on a netherbrick floor where familiar crimson tendrils were quick to bind him.

The blindness spell wore off and he felt his blood run cold. He knew where he was, he’d been here before when he was still under the influence of corruption. Even now he could almost hear the agonized cries and pleas of those he watched Xornoth torture...that he himself even tortured. Sausage could almost see Fwhip, Gem, and Kathrine bound and helpless, their blood still staining the ground.

“Its a new perspective isn’t it? Being on the receiving end of something you once enjoyed?” Xornoth questioned, twirling a dark, bloodied dagger in his hand as he walked “I cannot let your insolence go unpunished, Sausage.”

Suddenly, the demon was in front of him, its gaze meeting his own. “I wonder how easy you’ll be to break.”

  Sausage jolted upright with a cry, pain radiating in his right arm. He quickly looked at it in panic, expecting to see pulsating crimson veins. Instead, all he saw were the web-like scars where corruption had once been seared in his flesh. His gaze followed them from where they started at his wrist, and ended right over his heart.

He grimaced at the permanent reminders of what he’d done and averted his gaze to the room he was in. It wasn’t a dungeon where he would be tortured, it was his bedroom...in his keep...in Mythland.

There was no storm outside, moonlight shining brightly through the window and casting a gentle glow on the floor and walls.

A nightmare...that’s all it’d been. A remnant of the trauma he’d gone through. Still, there was no going back to sleep, not after that. Maybe...maybe he could go on a midnight walk to clear his head?

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, going over to his wardrobe and grabbing a simple undershirt, pants, and a cloak. It was a casual attire, much different than what he would normally wear, but it’d work.

Once he was on the cobbled streets he began his walk. Mythland was stunning at night, lanterns lit the paths and fireflies flickered in the air. The sound of night wildlife was therapeutic as it was joined by his quiet footsteps.

The bleating of blood sheep made him smile, with the corruption tentacles gone the symbols of his empire’s culture had come out from hiding, no longer afraid.

All was fine until Sausage could have sworn he saw a shadow move in the darkness. When he turned to look, it was gone.

Just a nocturnal animal he told himself before continuing down the path towards one of the residential areas.

He’d helped design some of the houses here himself and the sight of them made him smile. Light shone dimly through closed windows, alerting him that the residents were safe.

Then, in one of the alleys, he caught sight of a shadow, but it disappeared seconds after he made eye contact with it. A stray dog or cat he thought, that was all, there was no one out on the streets at this hour other than him.

As he continued he noticed that the sounds of the night had gone quiet, his footsteps echoed by another set behind him. He turned, but saw no one, not even the particles of an invisibility potion.

He was tired, that was all. He was tired and just imagining things. He was alone out here...he should probably head back home to rest.

Countless times more on his way back did he swear he was hearing footsteps, close enough to be in earshot, yet far enough away to be unnerving. He also could have sworn the shadow he kept seeing was following him. He knew it was just paranoia, once he was back in bed he’d be fine.

Soon, his home came into view and he went inside, climbing the stairs back to his bedroom.

He discarded the cloak, hanging it on the railing to put away in the morning and made his way over to his bed, not even bothering to get undressed again.

As he passed the mirror by his wardrobe though he froze, the reflection in it drawing his attention out of the corner of his eye. The second he turned to look, he recoiled with a yelp.

In the glass was a man that looked like him, a man dressed in black and grey with piercing red eyes and black veins marring their skin that had a faint crimson light flickering underneath. A sinister grin crossed their face as their gaze met his own.

“Look at you.” his reflection began in a distorted version of his voice, “Pathetic and weak once more. You were so powerful Sausage, you were feared. Don’t you miss it? The strength flowing through your veins, the magic at your fingertips. You could have had so much more too, if you’d stayed.”

It clicked then who the reflection was, it was someone he never wanted to see again, someone that terrified him. “I’m not you. I’m not a puppet for someone to order around.”

His reflection vanished and for a moment, Sausage thought he’d beaten his subconscious. He’d been wrong as he felt a sword go through him, the blade dripping with ink black blood as it protruded from his chest.

“You’re right,” came the voice of his doppelganger once more, “Because I am what you should have been.”

The sword was yanked back out, and Sausage fell to the ground, hacking and sputtering as the life drained from his body. 

“All I have to do, is kill you and take your place.”

The black blade of a corrupted netherite axe tore through the flesh of his neck.

  Once more he awoke with a cry, his hands instantly flying up to his throat instinctively in panic. Once he realized that his head was still attached did he dare open his eyes.

Sunlight came through the window and lit up the room, birds sung outside and the wind rustled the leaves of trees. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of his people going about their lives.

Tears formed in his eyes and he began to cry, ugly sobs coming from his throat at what he’d witnessed in his nightmare.

Then it dawned on him...what if he was still asleep? What if he’d just passed into another part of the illusion his traumatized mind was inflicting upon him?!

What if...what if he wasn’t really in Mythland? What if he’d failed in the spirit realm and as punishment he was left to suffer a nightmare for eternity?!

Who was he? The King of Mythland? The servant of evil? The condemned spirit left to be forgotten by those he cared about?

The mental turmoil was maddening and Sausage clutched the sides of his head, “Stop...make it stop...” he pleaded quietly.

A knock on the door snapped him from his spiraling thoughts, bringing him back to what he hoped was reality.

“Sausage are you home? I know you said you wanted to rest but I’m worried about you.”

Gem’s voice was music to his ears and Sausage quickly regained his composure as best he could before heading down the stairs to open the door for her.

“Hey, Gem.” he said with what he hopped was a happy tone, he didn’t want to worry her any more.

The wizard’s smile faded, “Sausage you look horrible, I thought you said you were going to get some sleep and recover!”

“What are you talking about Gem? I feel perfectly fine!” he countered casually, “I’ve been resting like I said I would after all!.”

Gem wasn’t convinced, “Sausage, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”

The question had been an innocent one, but the nightmare from the night before quickly flashed before him. “N-No, because I’m...I’m afraid of what I’ll see.” he admitted as he wrapped his arms around himself.

"What do you think you’ll see?”

Sausage grit his teeth, his body beginning to shake, “Him, Gem...the corrupted puppet of Xornoth...”

"He isn’t you, Sausage.”

“No...he’s not...” because he’s who I was supposed to be...

Gem broke the momentary silence that followed, “You’ve gone through a lot, Sausage and while I still don’t know if I can fully trust you yet, if you need to talk about anything then I’ll be right over alright?”

Sausage nodded and wrapped his arms around her just to make sure she was real and not another trick played by his mind, “Thank you.”

-

He had spent the next several days working, doing everything he could to keep himself from falling asleep, afraid of what would await him. He’d dozed off a few times and had found himself in several scenarios.

  Sometimes it’d been in the arena, the other rulers falling to his blade over-and-over again, bathing him in their blood while he smiled in sadistic pleasure.

Sometimes he’d be running from a shadow that would always catch him, its claws digging into his mind to puppet him around once more

Sometimes he’d see the wicked grin of his twisted doppelganger as they drove a blade through him, their words poisoning his thoughts and filling him with doubt and fear.

Sometimes he’d be laying helpless as Xornoth tortured him. Trying countless painful methods to ensure that this time the corruption taking over his body would be permanent.

  And when night fell he’d just lay in bed awake, guilt and trauma weighing heavy on his mind. The things he’d done were horrible and now that he was free, he would be hunted relentlessly by the one that had controlled him and the hybrid that still followed them.

Sausage was scared. He needed sleep...he needed help...

That had been the one word shakily scribbled onto the paper he’d tied around a raven’s leg before sending it to the Crystal Cliffs.

-

A knock on the door the following morning forced him to get out of bed and go to open it. Sausage’s movements were sluggish but he managed to succeed in his goal. Gem stood in the doorway, her expression morphing into a grimace once she saw the sorry sight he probably was. “Oh Sausage...what have you been doing to yourself...”

He collapsed into her, unable to hold back tears any longer, “I can’t sleep Gem! Every time I close my eyes the nightmares come, even if its just for a minute. Please Gem, sleeping potions...or even some kind of sleeping spell...just something, anything to help me fall asleep peacefully!”

Gem couldn’t think of any way to reply, only held the broken person in her arms.

“How about we get you inside? See what we can do?”

A distressed  but agreeing sound came from Sausage and Gem helped maneuver him upstairs and back into his bed. The Mythland king looked terrible, his clothes disheveled and his face pale enough that the dark circles forming beneath his eyes were extremely noticeable.

“Tell me everything, Sausage. Tell me about the nightmares and anything that is bothering you.”

So he did. Sausage spilled every detail about his nightmares and paranoia, about every little thing he feared and pondered. Gem listened intently as he spoke, never once interrupting, just letting him get his thoughts out.

By the time he finished Sausage felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, it was...nice.

The last of his energy had been sapped from his venting and the clutches of sleep tried to bring him into their hold.

Gem stroked his head, her sympathetic eyes meeting his own tired ones. “Go to sleep, Sausage.” he coaxed, “I’ll be here to wake you if I sense something is wrong.“

Sausage only gave a sigh, his eyelids slipping shut and lulling him into darkness.

But, for the first time in an unknown amount of days, the nightmares didn’t come. Sausage was at peace, finally able to rest.

[andypantsx3]

in cinders | 4 | machinations

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Kamiko was a nightmare the next morning.

She draped herself obnoxiously all over the kitchens, declaring to anyone who would listen that she had overheard a provocative rumor as she changed Countess Asui’s bedwarmer that morning. When asked, she would refuse to share, claiming it was too big to spill until everyone was gathered for the morning meal.

You let out a disinterested yawn as you rolled out the dough for Rikido’s famous morning buns. This was your favorite of your duties when you couldn’t be with Ochako, rolling out pastry crusts or--when it was for bread--shaping the dough into various knots and boules. Rikido didn’t yet trust you to mix the dough itself, but you liked kneading it and setting it into the ovens early in the morning. Leaning into the warm stone of the ovens and letting the yeasty scent of baking bread wash over you was a good way to wake up in the winter months, particularly after nights like the one before.

You hadn’t slept well, after everything. In the middle of the night you’d awoken, feeling Prince Shouto’s fingers at your sleeve. You’d sat up in bed, your blood pulsing in your ears, and stared into the darkness, listening to Ochako’s heavy breaths.

It occurred to you that you should have made her stay longer. The little time you’d spent at the ball, you’d taken too much of the prince’s attention and not nearly enough had been dedicated to her. It had been clear from the moment he’d set eyes on Ochako that he’d found her beautiful, looking her over and complimenting her necklace. Then she’d possibly run from him in shyness, and you swooped in to complicate the whole evening, sticking your foot in your mouth and almost blowing your cover.

If only you’d kept your head and forced her to stay behind, she could have asked him to a dance for real.

You gnashed your teeth, the fantasy of Princess Ochako fading before your very eyes. How were you to spend your days languishing in her chambers with a good book, calling on Kamiko for increasingly more unnecessary things now?

Finally, the swell of servants in the kitchen seemed to satisfy Kamiko’s appetite for theatrics. She stationed herself at the head of the meal table, tapping her fork on her glass to call for attention.

“I’ve heard a very interesting rumor,” she announced, and every pair of eyes snapped to her. Despite yourself, yours did too.

“Lady Asui overheard the prince last night at the ball. Apparently, he was looking high and low for a maiden who’d caught his fancy.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Kamiko continued, unwary of your inner turmoil. “He described her as a lady of unusual tastes, and from what he could tell, quite pretty.”

“Welcome, Lady Uraraka. I must compliment you on your choice of jewelry. Your necklace is quite unique and beautiful.”

Your heart shuddered back to life, pounding heavily in your chest. A warm feeling like hope blossomed within you.

Ochako. He was looking for Ochako.

The sound of your heart pumping in your chest seemed to drown out the rest of what Kamiko was saying, and you bit your lip to hold back a smile.

This was your chance to make it up to Ochako.

As discreetly as you could, you slipped out of the kitchens, bounding down the staircase to the small room you shared with her. You let yourself in, finding the room empty, and leaned down to dig beneath her mattress. Finally, you felt what you had been looking for, pulling back with her ribbon necklace in hand.

You stowed it in your apron and made your way back to the kitchens, your plan singing in your veins. There was no way for someone like you to access the prince directly, but there was a shortcut to lead him down into the kitchens and straight to Ochako.

Kamiko was still holding forth at the table when you returned, though she spared a moment to toss you a nasty glance.

You let it roll off you and you retrieved the morning buns from the oven.

You made sure to watch Rikido carefully after he returned from his breakfast, pretending to peel carrots as you stealthily observed him plating up the prince’s breakfast. None but Rikido was allowed to touch the royal family’s trays before they were carried up to their quarters, as he trusted no one but himself to arrange the food pleasingly and deliciously. But even he couldn’t watch the trays forever.

In the spare minute between when Rikido turned his back and the servers came to call, you crept surreptitiously over to the counter, tucking Ochako’s necklace carefully out of sight beneath the large morning bun on Prince Shouto’s tray.

Then you returned to the sink, picking up your carrots to begin shucking for real.

The servers came to pick up the trays, and for the next half hour you waited excitedly, watching Ochako scrubbing out pans in the corner. In only moments, you were sure, the prince would sweep into the kitchens and take her into his arms. Then they would be married, and Ochako would live happily ever after.

Only, it wasn’t the prince who turned up in the kitchens.

The door smashed open, and a squadron of the king’s guard poured into the room. Behind them, Captain Katsuki Bakugou himself stalked into the room, blood-red gaze sweeping the occupants. He exuded raw power at close range, and you understood immediately why Kaminari had been so scared to leave his post the night before.

“Everyone who touched the prince’s food this morning, line up against the wall,” he growled. The entire room stood frozen, staring at him.

“NOW!” He yelled, and like a dam breaking, everyone rushed to obey. In mere seconds, Prince Shouto’s waiter, Rikido, and another kitchen girl were up against the wall, everyone else backing away to the other side of the room. You stood frozen at the sink, too terrified to move.

Captain Bakugou turned his crimson gaze on you. “You, girl. What do you do?”

You stammered, “I clean, and I--I help bake the pastries.”

He gestured with his sword. “Up against the wall.”

You moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other kitchen maid. The king’s guardsmen stepped up to you and the other servants, and one grasped your shoulder in an unyielding hold. Then you were moving, being led out of the kitchens and up into the bright light of the castle.

Your stomach twisted like the series of halls and stairways you were ushered through.

Why had the prince sent the commander of the guard? Wasn’t he supposed to be in love with Ochako? Why hadn’t he come for her?

Before you knew it, your small group was standing before the door to the prince’s apartments. You’d never been this deep in the palace before, and everything seemed to dwarf the cramped hallways of the servants’ wing. Even the door you stood before was twice a man’s height and almost as broad across.

Captain Bakugou rapped firmly on the door and it opened inwards.

You were tugged in by the strap of your apron and thrust to your knees with the other kitchen staff.

The prince’s chambers spread out before you, so large they could fit the kitchens three times over. You looked to be in a sitting room, peppered with low tables and couches overstuffed with bright pillows. A large, ornate writing desk sat against one corner, covered in papers. On the far wall, a series of double doors lay open, leading deeper into his apartments. You caught a glance of a four postered bed deep within, covers dripping off the sides to lay crumbled on the floor like they had been kicked off in haste.

Prince Shouto himself sat on one of the couches, looking as though he’d dressed in a hurry. He was accompanied as ever by Izuku Midoriya, and at his right sat Lady Camie Utsushimi and one of her ladies-in-waiting you didn’t know.

“This is unnecessary, Bakugou,” the prince sighed in his soft tone. “It was a necklace.”

The captain snarled. “It could have just as easily been poison.”

The prince closed his gray and blue eyes. “But it wasn’t.”

Bakugou scoffed. “They try anything funny and I’ll run them straight through.”

You shivered on the floor. You felt miserably sorry to the other staff on their knees beside you, threatened with death here on the hardwood because of a stupid choice you’d made. Of course the royal guard would work themselves into a frenzy over something in the prince’s food. Why hadn’t you thought this through?

Prince Shouto turned to the four of you, holding up a familiar pink pearl necklace. “I found this on my tray this morning. I believe it belongs to a lady I met at the ball last night. I promise you no trouble if any of you come forward with information.”

If ever the time to speak up were to come, it would be now. But found yourself holding your tongue, eyeing Captain Bakugou’s sharp sword.

You looked up into the faces of the prince’s companions. Lady Utsushimi’s eyes were wandering carefully between the faces of the staff, and she seemed to stop in surprise when her gaze flicked to you.

You felt yourself stiffen under the guardsman’s hands.

“Please,” the prince continued. “She has a companion who I must find. She seemed rather insistent that I talk with the lady to whom this necklace belongs. Did she ask any of you to place this on my tray?”

Your heart leapt into your throat. He was talking about you. Dear god, he was talking about you.

What had you done to make him so keen to find you? Had it been the rough way you spoke to him or the stomping on his toes? Did he guess that you were a servant acting above your station? What was he going to do once he found you? Was Captain Bakugou here to deliver the prince’s justice upon you?

A silver ribbon appeared in the prince’s clever fingers. “Last night, she was wearing a blue dress with these about her sleeves. Camie tells me she might go by Lady Ito. Have any of you seen her?”

You looked up into his handsome face, feeling sick. Please don’t say Kamiko’s full name, please don’t say it. Not in front of the staff.

“Your highness,” Rikido’s shaky voice came from beside you, “I was the last to touch your tray. The fault of this is mine. I will accept any punishment you see befitting of my inattention.”

In the corner of your vision, Bakugou’s sword hand twitched. Rikido was going to get himself killed!

Before you could think, you had shot to your feet. “Please, it wasn’t him! It was me!"

Then the reality of your words washed over you and you quickly backpeddled, "I mean - I was the last to touch your tray. I - I sprinkled more sugar over your bun while his back was turned. But I swear, none of us were asked to add this to your tray!”

The prince’s cool gaze turned on you. You stared back, heart hammering.

If you made it through this alive, you were never trying something this stupid again.

His eyes wandered over you slowly, and you felt your face burn. You hoped your mask had covered enough of you last night that he saw nothing familiar to him. You hoped the sight of you now, covered in flour and carrot shavings, was enough to throw off any suspicions.

“Tell us, why should the prince believe you?” Lady Utsushimi’s attendant spoke up. Her tone was high and cruel. “It’s clear that one of you must have done it.”

You swallowed. You pitched your voice a little lower to hide it, now that the prince’s attentions were on you and you were thinking a little more clearly. “If I touched the tray while Rikido’s back was turned, there’s no reason why someone else couldn’t have done the same. Perhaps they were laying in wait.”

The lady sniffed, but Prince Shouto held up a hand.

“If I’m to trust your word, I’d like you all to swear to it,” he said.

You nodded, and other kitchen staff quickly did as well.

“You swear that no one asked you to add this necklace to my tray?”

Your voices blended together as you answered, “I swear it, highness.”

I wasn’t asked. I added it myself.

After that, the purpose seemed to drain from the prince’s lean form, and he waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your morning. Captain Bakugou, please return them to the kitchens.”

Bakugou made an angry noise, but the guardsmen picked your fellow servants up off the floor to their feet and ushered you to the doorway. Your blood rushed in your veins as you stepped back through the massive doors, staring fixedly at Rikido’s back ahead of you.

As the doors closed, however, you swore you could sense a pair of eyes boring into your back.

[cardest]

Russia playlist

Gorbachov! Tear down that wall.......and turn up this Russia playlist! The Cossacks are dancing to this one and the yaks are singing. Russia, Siberia, Moscow, St Petersburg and a cold war. It’s all here in this Russia playlist. Hit play: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC18F7oDKY8zH1IOplzHM05MY

We begin the journey in Siberia and make our way across Genghis Khan territory towards Omsk and beyond. We have a look at Chernobyl, Ukraine for a look around and make our way up to Moscow, We finish up this playlist in St Petersburg. Hope you enjoy it.

RUSSIA

001 FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE 007 OST - Main theme 002 Ozzy Osbourne - Crazy Train 003 The Beatles - Back in The USSR 004 Iron Maiden - Mother Russia 005 Sisters of Mercy  - Dominion / Mother Russia 006 Ramones - Cretin Hop 007 Sting - Russians 008 Russkaja - Peace, Love & Russian Roll 009 Robert Simon Thomas - Troika  (balalaika) 010 Jello Biafra, The Guantanamo School Of Medicine - We Created Putin 011 The Cult -  Siberia 012 Mastodon -  Siberian Divide 013 Yes - Siberian Khatru 014 Pesnokhorki Barnaul - Cossacks songs of Siberia 015 Diablo Swing Orchestra - Siberian Love Affairs 016 The Kills - Siberian Nights 017 The Night Flight Orchestra - Siberian Queen 018 Altai Kai - Traditional Siberian music 019 Vallenfyre -  My Black Siberia 020 Skyhooks - Jukebox In Siberia 021 MISERY INDEX - Siberian March 022 Wooly Mammoth - Mammoth Bones 023 Grumbling Fur -  Siberian Priest 024 Iron Maiden - Genghis Khan 025 Trans-Siberian Orchestra - Night enchanted 026 The Locust -  Live From The Russian Compound 027 ACCEPT - Russian Roulette 028 Cavalera Conspiracy - Genghis Khan 029 Diaframma - Siberia 030 Renaissance - Mother Russia 031 Echo & The Bunnymen - Siberia 032 Dschinghis Khan - Genghis Khan 033 Bad News -  Warriors Of Ghengis Khan 034 The Hu - The great Chinggis Khan 035 Shah - Escape 036 Ray Stevens - Surfin USSR 037 Ramones - Locket Love 038 Heirs -  Russia 039 The Dillinger Escape Plan - Hero of the Soviet Union 040 Natalia Albychakova - Takhpakh 041 Svetlanas - Go Fck You Self 042 Maloletka - Irkutsk Path 043  Kuban Cossack Choir - The hat all around 044 The Lords of the New Church - Russian Roulette 045 Paul Lay Trio - Irkutsk 046 Elvis Hitler - Rocking Over Russia 047 Russian Circles - 309 048 Thylacine - Irkutsk 049 Valeriy Voloshin and gruppa Pyatiletka - Irkutsk 050 DEVO -  Cold War 051 Güiro Meets Russia - It's Not The World, It's You 052 Powerwolf - Nightside of Siberia 053 Altai Kai - Oilo oilo altai 054 Arkona - Yarilo 055 Depeche Mode - People Are People 056 Gorky Park - Bang 057 Igor Stravinsky -  The Rite of Spring, Part 1- 3 Game of Abduction 058 Martika - Toy Soldiers 059 Transvision vamp    - revolution baby 060 The Stranglers -  No More Heroes 061 Gari Gari - Russian gypsy  music 062 Russian Sailors - Dance Yablochka 063 Manic Street Preachers - Revolt 064 Elton John - Nikita 065 Krokus - Russian winter 066 Prince - Ronnie Talk to Russia 067 Soviet SOunds - Baikal-Amur Railroad 068 Genesis - Land of Confusion 069 Duran Duran - Planet Earth 070 Today Is The Day -  The Russian Porn Ballet 071 Nytt Land - Ballad of Gjallarhorn 072 Rotting Christ - Ветры злые - (featuring Irina Zybina) 073 Metallica - Blackened 074 Anneke van Giersbergen, Árstíðir -  Russian Lullaby 075 Der Kommissar - After the Fire 076 Czas relaksu - Andrzej i Eliza 077 korobushka - Folk Russian 078 Peter Gabriel - Red Rain 079 FEAR - Bomb the Russians 080 Rush - Heresy 081 RUSSKAJA - Energia 082 Megadeth -  Peace Sells 083 King Crimson - One More Red Nightmare 084 Sodom - Nuclear Winter 085 Bruce Cockburn - If I Had A Rocket Launcher 086 Talisman - Hey you Horses! 087 Styx - Cold War 088 Grateful Dead - Throwing Stones 089 Gimines - Kai armonika tyliai užgros 090 EXHUMED - Coins Upon the Eyes 091 Mastodon -  The Czar 092 CCCP - American Soviets 093 Sapce Rockit - Supersonik Elektronik 094 Septic Flesh - The Eldest Cosmonaut 095 Quicksand -  Cosmonauts 096 Arkona - Zimushka 097 Abracadabra - Damned Dances 098 Pink Floyd - Two Suns In The Sunset 099 Prince - 1999 100 Trololo Guy - Sean Sell Duck with Fake Subtitles ( Buffalax Style ) 101 Armonika - Gromatele Parašiau 102 Diablo Swing Orchestra - Vodka Inferno 103 Accept -  Balls to the wall 104 Killing Joke - New Cold War 105 UB40 - The Earth Dies Screaming 106 RAMONES - Bonzo Goes To Bitburg (My Brain Is Hanging Upside) 107 TCHAYOK - Zavarka - Mi-minable 108 COH - Soii Noir 109 Vircator - Tunguska 110 Scorpions -  China White 111 Tears For Fears  - Everybody Wants To Rule The World 112 The Stalin - 解剖室 113 KAIRA - OХ РA 114 Alexander Robotnick - Ce n'est q'un début 115 Tunguska Electronic Music Society - Alpha Kawu 116 Arkona - Odna 117  Cist - Antisceptic 118 Sabaton -  Nuclear Attack 119 Leningrad Cowboys - Katjusha 120 PRONG - Rude Awakening 121 Imperial Age - And I Shall Find My Home 122 Так - пела метель 123 Fear Konstruktor - Nonexistence 124 Oneohtrix - Russian Mind 125 Police - Every Breath You Take 126 dEpEchE modE - Two Minute Warning 127 Ultravox - Dancing With Tears In My Eyes 128 Sigue Sigue Sputnik - Love Missile F1-11 129 Metallica - Fight Fire With Fire 130 David Bowie - Heroes 131 woven hand - my Russia 132 Survivor - Burning Heart (Rocky IV OST) 133 Forest - As a Shade Above This Land 134 Tesla - Modern Day Cowboy 135 Colossus Form - Son Of Nature 136 The Flying Lizards - Russia 137 Djivan Gasparyan - A Cool Wind Is Blowing 138 Iron Driver (feat. Pasha Mrachek) - Prisoner of time 139 Pussy Riot - CHAIKA 140 Boris Alexandrov - Катюша (Katyusha) 141 DEVO - Going Under 142 Motor - Yak 143 Nuclear Assault - Nuclear War 144 Edward Artemiev - Station (Solaris OST) 145 Soviet Valves - Puritan Blues 146 Verasy - Polet 147 FAVALLI - Yuri Gagarin 148 Wolfmother - Cosmonaut 149 Yuri Gagarin  - Psychological Discontinuity 150 Witchfinder General - Soviet Invasion 151 Korrozia Metallah - Russian Vodka 152 Russkaja - Kosmopolit 153 Dio -  Gypsy 154 The The - slow train to dawn 155  Blues Pills -  Gypsy 156 Rush - Red Lenses 157 Corey Hart - Komrade Kiev 158 Master - Metal Doctor 159 Howlin Rain - Phantom In The Valley 160 ARKONA - Liki Bessmertnykh Bogov 161 Pitchblack - IHATEU 162 Ozzy Osbourne - Killer of Giants 163 Scorpions - Wind of Change 164 Yat kha - Chorumal Bodum 165 Nadezhda Babkina, Russkaja Pesnja 166 Ramones - Here Today, Gone Tomorrow 167 Russian radio - red flag 168 Manicure - Atomic Summer 169 The Dillinger Escape Plan -  The Threat Posed By Nuclear Weapons 170 Love Among Freaks - Berserker 171 ARIA - HERO OF ASPHALT 172 Temnozor - Fatherland 173 Walknut - Motherland Ostenvegr 174 Weird Al Yankovic - Now That's What I Call Polka! 175 Underworld - Underneath the Radar 176 Skyclad - Polkageist 177 Helloween - Russian Roulé 178 John Coltrane - Russian Lullaby 179 Julian Cope - russian revolution blues 180 Rodrigo y Gabriela - The Russian Messenger 181 Kate Bush - Babooshka 182 ВИА - Чаривни гитары 183 Mastodon - The Last Baron 184 Hovert – Omyt 185 Minsk -  Consumed by Horizons 186 Kypck - Stalingrad 187 Def Leppard -  Gods of war 188 Black Country Communion  - Big Train 189 Sabaton -  Stalingrad 190  Doomsquad - Russian Gaze 191 Soviet Soviet - Human Nature 192 Murray head    - one night in bangkok 193 The Korgis - Young n Russian 194 Chelsea Light Moving - Communist Eyes 195 Helix - Champagne Communist 196 UDO - Train Ride In Russia 197 Mr Weebl - Russian Dancing Men 198 Jamie Jones   - Siberian Express 199 They Might Be Giants - Sold My Mind to the Kremlin 200 Ed Khuild - lolololololololol 201 Sepultura - Itsari 202 Vy Pole - Enormous 203 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Fifteen Feet Of Pure White Snow 204 Gogol Bordello -  Gypsy Auto Pilot 205 Buffalex - Horse Eat My Nipple 206 Municipal Waste - Wolves of Chernobyl 207 Drudkh -  Cursed Sons II 208 Chernobyl - A song for the fallen 209 Russkaja - Hometown Polka 210 Toxic Holocaust -  Out of the Fire 211  Hail Caesar! Soundtrack - 19 Soviet Man 212 The Blow Monkeys  - The Man From Russia 213 The Devil's Blood - The Anti-Kosmik Magick 214 Orchid - Cosmonaut of Three 215 Vergeltung - Cold War 216 KYPCK - Alleya Stalina 217 Cabaret Voltaire -  Calling Moscow 218 Red Army Choir - Polyushka Polye 219 Iron Curtain - Ready To Strike 220 Porcupine Tree - Russia on Ice 221 Sigue Sigue Sputnik - 21st Century Boy 222 Al Stewart - Roads to Moscow 223 The Rolling Stones - Sympathy For The Devil 224 Soviet Soviet - ecastacy 225 KREMLIN - Will You Feed Me 226 AC/DC - Heatseeker 227 ANJ - Gorbachev 228 Katyusha (Катюша) - Aleksandr Marshal & Valeria Kurnushkina 229 ARKONA - Stenka Na Stenku 230 Black Obelisk -  The wall 231 Skyclad - Catherine at the Wheel 232 Pussy Riot - Kropotkin-vodka (Kill the sexist!) 233 Brian Eno -- Stedelijk 234 Zola Jesus - Siphon 235 Insect Inside - The First Shining of New Genus 236 MR. ZIVAGO - Little Russian 237 The Real McKenzies - Midnight Train to Moscow 238 Red Army OST - KGB 239 The Toasters - Night Train to Moscow 240 Thy Catafalque - Urania 241 The Apogee - Hieronymus Bosch 242 Sabaton - Panzerkampf 244 RUSSKAJA - Barada   245 Oneohtrix Point Never - KGB Nights 246 Faith No More -  A Small Victory 247 Mike and the mechanics - A Call To Arms 248 Michael Jackson - Stranger In Moscow 249 Blondie - Contact In Red Square 250 Rammstein - Moskau 251 Pseudogod - deathwomb 252 KGB - Subway Sleepwalker 253 Igor Butman Big Band - Moscow at 3am 254 Genghis Khan - Moscow 255 Demon - Blue Skies In Red Square 256 Type O Negative - The Profit of Doom 257 COH - Red Square 258 Cougars - Red Square 259 Ray Conniff - Moscow Nights 260 INDIANS IN MOSCOW - Indians in Moscow 261 Radio Moscow - 250 Miles 262 Kingdom Come - Crown of Moscow 263 Powerwolf - Moscow after dark 264 U.D.O. - Decadent 265 System Of A Down - Störagéd 266 Closure In Moscow - Pink Lemonade 267 VIBRATORS - DISCO IN MOSCO 268 IRA PETROWA - MOSKAUER NÄCHTE 269 Visage - Moon Over Moscow 270 Farmers Market - Red Square Dance 271 Wonderland -  Moscow 272 Courtney Pine - Red Square Gagarinesk 273 Stray Cats - Storm The Embassy 274 German Shepherds - Communist Control 275 Moloko - Radio Moscow 276 March of the defenders - Moscow 277 Takako Nishizaki - Podmoskovnye vechera( Moscow Nights) 278 Simple Minds - Moscow Underground 279 The Spotnicks - Moscow 280 The Russian Jazz Quartet - Journey from Moscow 281 Bob Crewe Generation - Miniskirts In Moscow 282 MODERN TROUBLE - FLY TO MOSCOW 283 Gorky Park - Moscow Calling 284 BB Gabor - Moscow Drug Club 285 Doe Maar - De bom 286 Manicured noise - Moscow 287 Russkaja - Ras Dwa Tri 288 PLANET P PROJECT - Armageddon 289 Clan of Xymox - Muscoviet Musquito 290 Gogol Bordello -  60 REVOLUTIONS 291 Uriah Heep   - Gypsy 292 Living Colour - Cult Of Personality 293 The Hollies - Russian Roulette 294 Kenny Ball and His Jazzmen - Red Square 295 Frank Chacksfield - Under Moscow Skies 296 Thomas Dolby - Eastern Bloc 297 The Redskins - Kick Over The Statues 298 The Alchemist - Moscow Mornings - Sunrise 299 N.O.T.A. - Moscow 300 Svetlanas - Where Is My Borscht? 301 Against Me! - Russian Spies 302 James Horner - Gorkij park (Gorky Park 1983) OST 303 Hetalia Russia - Moscú 304 Roberto Jacketti & The Scooters - Moscow Nights 305 Ram J Holder - The Blues in Moscow 306 Ivan Rebroff sings Russian folk songs - Moscow nights 307 Jethro Tull - Crest Of A Knave Said She Was a Dancer 308 Men At Work - Its a Mistake 309 Skeewiff - Moscow Mule 310 The Clash - Ivan Meets G.I. Joe 311 Captain Sensible - Glad its all over 312 Ulfdallir - Steel Armor 313 Arkona - Oi Ti ne Vecher (Oh Not That Evening) 314 Lena Katina - No Voy A Olvidarte 315 JOHNNY M5 - Moscow Nights 316   Eddy Huntington - U.S.S.R. 317 Selsius - Moscow 318 WINTERUS - MOSCOW 319 Mr. Zivago - Love in Moscow 320 Brutto - Moscow Calling 321 Udo Lindenberg - Moskau 322 Aliza Kashi - Moscow Nights 323 Angelic Upstarts - Last Tango In Moscow 324 ASIA - Russian Dolls 325 Blaze Bayley & Thomas Zwijsen - Russian Holiday 326 Kate Bush - Breathing 327 Roger Waters and David Bowie - When the wind blows 328 Roky Erickson & The Aliens - Sputnik 329 Moscow - Orange Juice 330 Ivan Rebroff - Cossack Patrol 331 Alexandr Gradsky - Как молоды мы были 332 James Horner - Gorky Park - Following KGB 333 B.T.R - Moscow City 334 Gogol Bordello -  Hats Off To Kolpakoff 335 CCCP - Sputnik [Cosmos] 336 Russkaja - Go Sputnik 337 Red Spektor - Cosmonaut 338 Bald Red Lady - Cosmonaut 339 Ulver - Russian Doll 340 Hawkwind - Sputnik Stan 341 Bad Acid Trip - Putin Fears Pussy 342 Queensryche - Operation Mindcrime 343 Dark Tranquillity -  Arkhangelsk 344 TOTAL REJECTS (This Night) I'm Going To Be Destroyed 345 Manic Street Preachers - The Next Jet to Leave Moscow 346 Billy Joel - Leningrad 347 Victor Smolski    - The Heretic 348 Boney M - Rasputin 349 Type O Negative - Tripping A Blind Man 350 Leningrad Cowboys - Leningrad 351 Accept - Stalingrad 352 Russian Folk Music - Russian Winter 353 Cavalera Conspiracy -  Rasputin 354 Kontrust - Rasputin 355 Bersarin Quartett - St. Petersburg 356 Folkearth - From Volga to Bosphorus 357 Anastasia - Rumor in St. Petersburg 358 Retox - Soviet Reunion 359 Fireside - Let Rasputin Do It 360 Mastodon - Oblivion 361 St.Petersburg Ska Jazz Review - Volga River Boat Man 362 THERION - The Khlysti Evangelist 363 The Mountain Goats - Evening in Stalingrad 364 Rage - Soul Survivor 365 Indigo Girls - Closer to Fine 366 ARKONA - Slavsia Rus 367 Russian Folk Music - Kalinka (balalaika) 368 Catch 22 - The Decembrists Song 369 Joanna Stingray - City of Lenin 370 Aria - Attila 371 KAUAN  - Khurum 372 Balalaika Ensemble Wolga - Cossacks Dance 373 The Liminanas - Russian Roulette 374 Vasiliy Shumov - Porridge 375 U.D.O. - I GIVE AS GOOD AS I GET 666 Russkaja - Change

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC18F7oDKY8zH1IOplzHM05MY

[sh-rare-pair-exchange]

All’s Fair in Love and War, Except for You

For @bytheangell 

Read it on ao3: HERE

The first thing Jace notices when he wakes up is the perfect stillness of the world, the early dawn shines in through the soft cotton fabrics of the tent, adding warmth to the calming air. A pair of strong tan arms surrounded his waist and he felt a slight stubble tickle the back of his ear. Morning’s were always better with Mel, they provided a safe reminder that the nightmares weren’t real, that he didn’t have to be a brave soldier for the kingdom, he could just be himself. `

It made Jace appreciate these small moments even more, his dark hair had gotten even more untamed during his sleep, his brows lost their usual squint, opening up his face and relaxing his eyes. His long lashes now rested softly on his face, pointing Jace to his slightly parted lips. Brushing a navy strand away, Jace leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his love’s face. He was pleasantly surprised to hear a soft sigh escape his Mel’s lips, as he slowly started to return the kiss.

“Someone’s up early, especially since they don’t have any duties until noon,” Meliorn drawled.

Jace gave a small shrug,”I thought I would enjoy the view,”

Meliorn gave him a small smile, “Well the view might have problems with being watched so early,” he replied.

‘Or he might be flattered?,’

He let out a small chuckle, “It’s a possibility.’

Jace smiled fondly back at him, it was nice to have this again. They only ever met when Meliorn’s queen came to visit every few months for meetings with King Robert, and even then they both had duties to attend to. Jace let out a small groan and buried his face into Meliorn’s neck, causing the other to laugh as he wrapped his arms around his middle. Meliorn placed small kisses on his head. Part of him just wanted to just stay in bed all day, even if it was impossible for several reasons. Jace slowly felt Meliorn’s body tense as he remembered the lives they had outside the tent. “You should get going soon,” he stated, “It will be more difficult to sneak back as more people are awake.”

Jace pouted, a small groan of annoyance leaving his mouth before begrudgingly letting go. Jace sat up first, walking over to a small chest that contained his clothes, a simple black tunic with an armored breastplate and pauldron. Meliron watched with a sad smile before putting on his own uniform. A black shirt with a crimson jacket and pants, a gold leaf on his shoulder helped depict his rank as captain of her queen’s guard. As the two dressed they started to build up their walls, their faces becoming less open and their posture shifted into a soldier's stance.

The two had agreed that it was best to remain as professional as possible, the Seelie Queen wasn’t known for her kindness and members of her court were forbidden from engaging with people from other kingdoms, especially high ranking members of Idris, a kingdom with rocky relations with her majesty. Still, Jace moved so that he was standing in front of Meliorn, softly connecting their lips in a soft kiss before breaking away. A small smile spread across Meliron’s face as he took in the sight of his lover, his perpetually messy hair glowed in the sunlight, making his face even brighter than before. He rejoined their lips in another sweet kiss, his arms falling around Jace's waist to bring him the slightest bit closer, deepening the kiss. Meliron soon broke this kiss, looking up at his love’s mismatched eyes and soft stubble from where he had neglected to shave.

“If you don’t stop now you’ll never leave this tent,”

He chuckled “If that’s your way of telling me to leave, you might want to try a different strategy.”

“You leaving is never my intention, your safety on the other hand is, ‘ His hand joined Jace’s as he continued, ‘You know my queen’s laws are absolute, and I do not wish for you to fall into harm's way because of my queen, or yours.”

Jace nods in understanding, he slowly lets his hands fall to his side and backs away. He slowly walks towards the back entrance of the tent, telling himself this isn’t goodbye he walks out without a glance back, starting the long trek to the castle of Alicante.  

It's a quiet walk back, the kind of dull quiet that created a calming but boring atmosphere that Jace never truly liked, as the absence of noise left him alone with his thoughts. He hated being alone ever since his father died, he had been his only world until he died while on a job, then he had no one to hold and nowhere to go. That was, until the royal family took him in a few months later, Robert felt guilty over his father’s death and offered him a place at the palace as an apology. Mayrse had given him his own room next to her children, who accepted him as a friend and brother, and allowed him to live and train with them for years. Now he worked everyday to repay them for that.  

Then why are you betraying them by loving someone you might go to war with

Jace froze, No, he thought, that won’t happen, they’re signing the peace treaty in a few days, sure their relationship with the other kingdoms had been stressed but that was going too far. It would never come to that.

Are you positive?

Shaking away his doubt he continued onward until he reached the barrier that surrounded the castle, he took a deep breath, and slowly stepped inside, back to home he grew up in. He was greeted by the glass tall towers  ascending into the heavens. The smooth pale stones flashing him a welcoming smile, the cedar trees giving him a small wave of their branches in the breeze.

Jace allowed himself to relax a bit as he made his way across the lawn, he was safe here, no one was going to hurt him and nothing bad was going to happen here, he was safe.

Well mostly, he smirked as a flash of red caught his eye, Clary always tried to catch him by surprise after his ‘morning walks’, as he called them. Clary seemed to be repeating an old favorite this time, jumping out of a tree and tackling him when he least expected it, only it had failed to work so far and would continue to do so for the foreseeable future. He slowly counted down in his head before a familiar battle cry broke out form above.

“AAAHHHHHH”

He merely stepped aside just before she made contact with him, causing her to crash harshly into the ground with a load oof. Cracking a smile, he extended an arm to help the small thing up, Clary was a sweet knight, new to the ranking but had quickly proven herself a quick thinker and a fierce fighter, earning her quite the respect from her fellow knights.

“You got lucky that time”

“Oh yes, because your battle cry didn’t give you away at all, or are you still scared of falling”

She rolled her eyes affectionaley, “One day I’ll push you off a building and see if your still high and mighty about heights, until then we need to get going,”

Clary’s respect came with the position of personal guard to Princesses Isabelle, similar to how Jace was incharge of watching over Alec at home and during battle. While Izzy respected her parents' wishes, she wasn’t completely on board with the idea of another teammate, this disappeared as soon as she was introduced to Clary, with the two bonding quite quickly. Soon Clary became a fixture at Izzy’s side, it wasn’t uncommon for the two to sit next to each other during meals or hold hands while walking in the garden. Jace was fairly certain they were much closer than others realized but decided to keep it to himself, they’ll tell him when they're ready.

Several minutes of banter and a few hundred stairs later, Jace stood outside Alec’s door. He put his ear next to the door, listening to Alec’s snoring. Jace knocks a rhythm on Alec’s door, he waits for a bit. Hearing nothing he decides it’s time to move on to phase two. He knows that he doesn’t have the energy for this, but Alec will know something’s wrong if he doesn’t, and talking about his problems has never been his style. Grin and bear it it is then. Taking a deep breath he grabs the door knob and bursts open the door with a bang.

“Rise and shine sleeping archer, your knight in shining armor is here!”

Alec let out a pained groan, throwing a pillow at Jace’s head, which he easily dodged.

“Now, where’s the enthusiasm your crankiness? Up late last night reading some dumb poem?”

Alec’s icey eyes give him a pointed glare.

“It’s too early for this, send breakfast up, I'll eat later,” he moans, burying himself under the dark comforter.

Jace rolls his eyes, if he can’t sleep in neither can Alec, phase three it is then.

Jace jumps on the bed with a battle cry, elbowing Alec in the side. Alec yelped in pain, trying to push Jace off of him to no avail. “Get off!”

“On you? Not a chance.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Alec accented with a slap.

Jace let out a small laugh, causing Alec to become even more annoyed,

With an exhausted sigh, he conceded, “All right, If you move I’ll get up!

“That’s all I ask,” Jace replies, untanageling himself from Alec and begins walking out the door, “I’ll be outside while you get dressed, we’re meeting Izzy for breakfast in the pavilion in ten.”

Twenty minutes later the two made their way across the grounds two the grand white pavilion, usually Robert, Mayrse, and Max would join them for lunch while Jace and Clary would eat with the other knights. However, Max was away at boarding school and Robert and Mayrse were busy with preparations for the ceremony coming up, at least that was the story. In reality Mayrse and Robert had a strained relationship for a while, rarely spending time together outside of meetings and events.

“Took you long enough, Alec giving you trouble this morning?” Izzy inquired.

She was dressed in a blue grey gown fell gracefully around her, with small gems adorning the tips of her long sleeves and the lining of her gown. A tiara rested peacefully on her head. Clary in contrast, Clary was covered, with her face and hair being the only things on display, the rest of her body was covered in an intricate suit of armor, runes carved into the wristbands and chest to help increase her strength, agility, and speed.

“When is he not”, Jace responded.

Alec gave him a roll of his eyes before sitting down on Izzy’s left, taking some scones from the centerpiece and digging in.

Jace took the seat to his left, with Clary now sitting on Jace’s left, completing the circle.

The group continued to eat, making small talk here and there while also debating who was coming from what Kingdom,

“Simon is representing the Night Kingdom this year, since he can walk out in daylight,” said Clary

“No way,” said Alec, “He’s too inexperienced to be making these kinds of decisions, plus we’ve managed just fine with Rapheal.”

“Well at least Lorenzo’s not showing up this year, although I think Underhill might be a bit disappointed about that”

“Are they still a thing? What do they even do together, talk about Opera?” asked Jace sarcastically.

“Leave them alone,” said Izzy, “It's cute that they’ve made their relationship work long distance, besides Underhill seems really happy.”

Jace and Alec exchanged a look, a silent understanding that Izzy was just being a sap. Jace reached for his drink and took a sip.

“I heard that the Queen will becoming to the meeting instead of Meliorn,”

Jace struggled to keep himself from choking.

“What?” He asked, glancing at Clary.

“The Sealie Queen, I checked the guest list and saw her name instead of Meliron, the ambassador.”

That can’t be right, Meliorn is at the Sealie campsite not far from the castle grounds. Why would he be here if he wasn’t  going to show up to the meeting, come to think of it, didn’t Meliron mention that other fae were here too. Why is everyone showing up? What’s going on?

Jace tuned out the rest of the conversation, turning his focus to his own thoughts.

“Hey, are you okay?” Alec asked, putting a hand on Jace’s shoulder.

Jace looked up to see that everyone was looking at him with varying degrees of concern.

Shit, I spaced out too long.

“Uh, yeah I’m just thinking about the peace ceremony coming up.”

“You sure?”

He nodded, “Positive, don’t worry about it okay.”

Alec raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything outside of that,there was an awkward silence for a few moments, no one quite knowing how to fill the conversation.

“How about we go on a quick walk in the garden or maybe we can train?” suggested Izzy

Alec  gave a small shrug, “I was actually thinking of taking the horses out for a bit, we could do that?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll get the kitchen staff to clean this up and I’ll meet you at the stables”  

“You sure you don’t want to go with us? We can just ask someone at the stables to tell the kitchen staff -”

“I’ll be fine,” Jace interjected,” Besides, I’d rather not leave the food out for too long you know?”

Before they could say anything else he pushed his chair back and all but ran towards the castle. As soon as he was out of sight he sent Meliorn a small message to meet him at the halfway point between the castle and the sealie camp. He knew he was overreacting but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

[retroateez]

Prophecy - Chapter Thirteen

so,,,, hello!!!

firstly i apologise for how long this took me,,, university has been a nightmare and a blessing all in one and my sleep pattern is still getting worse that being said,, here (finally) is chapter thirteen! to those of you who have been waiting eagerly and showing your support, i thank you so much for giving me the motivation to keep this series going, lots of love - hades x

Prophecy Masterlist wc;2825

The next morning, Hongjoong called you, Yeosang and Wooyoung into his office to discuss your temporary residence. He had stood before you, like a teacher lecturing his naughty students and informed you that under no circumstances were any of you to perform magic.

Easy for you, you thought. You didn't even know how to use it.

"Witch hunters will be able to trace you if they detect any magical source coming from the kingdom," The king explained. "If there is rumour of any magic beings within my court, the other kingdoms will pick up on it immediately, and it will result in bloodshed."

The way Hongjoong had looked at the three of you as he instructed you was terrifying. It was bordering on begging, and deeper behind his golden eyes he looked frightened. And you supposed you would be too, if you had to go to war for such a ridiculous reason.

You could barely comprehend the thought of Yeosang and Wooyoung being killed just because they were non-human. It made it worse how they insisted it was okay because they were 'used to it', as if that justified anything.

Still, they complied to the king's request and agreed to not use any magic within the kingdom, especially in the castle and the grounds.

"We've managed to cover up your appearance here yesterday, so you don't need to be concerned about that. However, I am half tempted to charge you for causing emotional damage to my kingsguard. You gave him quite the fright."

You stifled a laugh at hearing the extent of Seonghwa's reaction to your intrusion, the scary kingsguard perhaps being much softer in demeanour than you had initially thought.

After the briefing, Hongjoong had dismissed you to once again talk over the prophecy with Yeosang and Wooyoung.

The astrologer had informed you that they were making steady progress, they had deciphered some of the constellation meanings and were working on how to avoid the outcomes of their predictions.

"It's very easy to avoid a war," Wooyoung had scoffed that morning whilst tying up his boot laces. "We needn't worry about the Ara constellation because we simply just do not engage in a war."

"But what if somebody goes to war with us?" You asked timidly, staring nervously at the floor.

Wooyoung paced over to you and gently raised your chin with the tip of his finger.

"We won't go to war, Iris. Nobody has any reason to go to war with us. Besides, you'd probably be more worried about the Ball than fighting in a battle."

He had ruffled your hair and swiftly left the room, leaving you gazing at the ceiling with a feeling in your chest you couldn't quite understand. Something had changed with you and Wooyoung recently; he'd been standing closer to you than usual, smiling at you more, being kinder than he used to and truthfully you had no idea what to make of it.

You thought that maybe he felt more comfortable in your presence considering you had to share a room with him.

But that didn't excuse the way your heart raced and stomach fluttered whenever he would flash his killer smile at you or whined like a puppy when you refused to share any of the cook's baked treats with him.

Your current course of action was to completely ignore every single one of those feelings. Either that or take a visit to Yunho and get him to perform a medical examination on you, because you were absolutely convinced you were dying slowly from the inside out. Had some kind of magical parasite burrowed into your skin while you slept and had gradually been sucking the life out of you without you noticing? Or maybe some evil witch had snuck into the kitchens, managed to figure out which delicious looking apple you had been eyeing up the previous afternoon, poison it and cackle mysteriously as she watched you take a giant bite of the apple through the window?

Or perhaps you had been reading too many fairytales and storybooks.

That was probably it.

Yet, you couldn't help yourself. Not when Hongjoong's castle had such a beautiful library, full to the brim with all ranges of books. Even though there was such an extensive selection, immediately you were drawn to the wonderfully illustrated tales of woeful princesses stuck in their towers, powerful dragons aiming to conquer worlds and daring wizards yearning for adventure.

You had yet to find a book about an angry king and his weak-hearted kingsguard, but you didn't really need to read a fictional account to experience that.

It wasn't like you had much to do either; the ball was still a few weeks away and you still weren't allowed to help Yeosang and Wooyoung with the prophecy under Hongjoong's guidance. You saw less and less of Mingi as his lute practice was being upped due to the fast-approaching ball. So you spent most of your days holed up in the corner of the typically empty library.

In fact, that was exactly what you planned on spending the whole day doing.  

You raced down the intricately decorated hallways of the castle, brushing your fingertips against the crimson velvet sashes that hung from ceiling to floor. Sunlight filtered in gently through the stained-glass windows, leaving rainbow shards on the plush rugs underneath your boots. In time, you're outside the familiar library door, a much cooler shade of oak than the other doors in this hallway, you notice. It's smoother to the touch too, like whoever designed this room centuries ago took special care in it's creation.

Pushing the door open, you enter the library. The scent is slightly dusty, with a lingering smell of untouched parchment and slowly decaying leather. The room itself is huge, bookshelves line the walls from top to bottom, almost encaging you in with towers of tales and stories hidden within leather-bound shells. The wall to your right is bare of shelves, in its space is a large bay window, with a cushioned area for somebody to sit and read. Coincedentally, your favourite place to lounge and waste the day away getting lost in foreign, mystical worlds.

Unfortunately, your seat appears to be occupied.

"Excuse me," you call politely, making your way over to the lounging figure who has their nose buried in a book. "You're sitting in my spot."

His attention snaps to yours lightening fast. So fast that you're shocked he didn't give himself whiplash or any other injury.

His gaze, much like his face and eyes, are narrow. Slender cheekbones and an unimpressed scowl are directed your way and the feeling of regret settles deep in your core.

"Your spot?" He repeats with a scoff. "And who are you to claim this seat?"

He sets his book down onto the soft window-seat, and swings his long legs round so he can stand up. Even from a distance, you can tell he's got a considerable amount of height on him. Everything about him is slim; his nose, jaw, torso. He takes a couple of steps towards you, and you notice he makes little to no sound. Agile, you think. He reminds you of a cat, his attentive gaze unwavering from your puzzled face, the way he moves concise and utterly silent. Unruly, raven black hair swept atop his head and glittering golden eyes evoke memories of the black cats from home. Slinking quietly through the market stalls, stalking mice or keeping an eye out for danger.

"Iris, right?" he asks.

You nod. "Ye-"

"Wrong." He interrupts you before you finish speaking, and he's standing right before you. So close that if you look up you can see every fleck of fire in his eyes.

"W-what? What do you mean?"

"Your name isn't Iris at all, is it?"

How does he know that?

He smirks at you, thinking he's figured out your deepest darkest secret.

"No, it isn't. How did you know? Did Yeosang tell you?"

"I've been keeping an eye on you, because I don't trust you. Hongjoong may have let you and your friends into the castle without batting an eyelid, but I'm not as easily fooled as him."

"I don't know what you think I'm planning," you glare at him, astounded that he's actually accusing you of plotting something. "But you're greatly mistaken."

He remains silent for a few moments as he eyes you up and down, taking in your hand-me-down clothes (a mixture of Wooyoung and Yeosang's) and untidy, unkempt hair.

"When our name is called," he begins to explain. "We have a physical reaction. Our eyes light up, our ears perk up, our head swivels round as we try to identify who is calling for us."

"Your point?" Somehow you find it in you to challenge him, despite the fact his glare is weighing down on you so heavily you think your knees might actually buckle with pressure.

"You do none of these things when your name is called."

"Okay. So you know that Iris isn't my real name. Yeosang knows that too. Now what?"

"I think if you're going to be living in this castle, free of charge, without doing any work to earn your keep, the least you can do is give me your real name."

In any other circumstance, you would've told him to stick it. Probably with a punch, too. But there's something so intimidating about him, something so covertly dangerous that you can't decipher.

"And why should I tell you that when I don't even know your  name?" you bite back, and you see the spark of realisation on his face that he is also a complete stranger to you.

"San." he replies simply.

"Haneul." you answer.

"Haneul?" San echoes. "You don't seem like a Haneul."

"People used to call me Hana."

"Hana? Like the number one?"

You nod.

"Yeosang just gave me the name Iris when I met him, by the way." A part of you felt compelled to explain why you were going by a different alias. Not that you owed San anything anyway. After all, he had been incredibly rude to you despite having met literally five minutes ago.

"And you didn't think to correct him?"

"Evidently not."

San rolls his eyes at your curt response, shaking his head a little and pushing his cheek from the inside with his tongue, the same way that Wooyoung does when he gets annoyed with you. You think that they'd probably get on quite well.

"So, do you actually do anything around here?" You throw the questions back in San's direction, feeling quite fed up of being interrogated for one day. "Or do you make a habit of ambushing young women in libraries and demanding their life stories?"

He gives you another unimpressed look before he goes back over to his book at the window-seat.

"I'm the Ateez court jester," he answers you calmly. "I entertain company with jokes, stories, songs, you name it."

"A jester? I thought you wore silly costumes and hats with bells on?"

San scowls at you from across the room. Does he actually know how to smile?

"You read too much." He deadpans. "I'm not a character in a storybook. I'm a person who has a job like everyone else here. I wear ordinary clothes, I don't wear a hat, and I do more than just tell jokes."

San crosses the room with an air of anger, yet he still manages to walk gracefully without making a sound. He places his book back on the shelf, then approaches you at the door.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a ball to prepare material for."

You side-step out of the way, and San slips past you and you listen as the soft pattering of his footsteps gradually fade, and then disappear altogether.

What the f-

"Oh, there you are!"

Wooyoung's lanky frame comes barreling into you, the slight panic laced in his voice making you worry.

"Here I am," you confirm. "What's wrong?"

"Hongjoong wants to see you." He breathes. "About the prophecy."

-----

"I've already told you! I don't know anything more than you do!"

Hongjoong had summoned you into his office, and the atmosphere in the room told you everything you needed to know. You could cut through it with a knife. A strong knife though, as the tension was so thick a regular butter knife wouldn't dent it one little bit. And the way Hongjoong was leaning against his desk with his arms fully stretched out, head hanging down and exhaling out of his nose like a furious cattle ready to charge.

You assumed that perhaps their work wasn't going swimmingly.

"The deadline to solve this is approaching fast, thief. Do you understand that? My people will die if we don't crack this soon."

"What exactly do you want me to do about it?" You angrily retort. "If you've forgotten, you've kept me in the dark for weeks!"

"Because you were of no use." Hongjoong replies simply. He wanders around the side of his desk and meanders his way to stand in front of you, his arms loosely behind his back.

"However, seeing as it was you who intially offered to help with the prophecy, I thought that perhaps reverting to our roots would prove more fruitful." He lowers himself slightly and stares at you directly with his dangerous, poisonous gaze.

His demand renders you silent. You stand frozen in his office, the worried glances of Yeosang and Wooyoung piercing into the back of your skull. You will your mouth to open and scream internally at yourself to speak, to say absolutely anything you can conjure to get out of the situation but nothing comes. Finally, the web of lies you've been spinning since day one is about to unravel itself.

And you can do nothing except for watch.

Is this where you get caught out? After so long? You were beginning to like it here too; the beautiful garden, getting closer to Wooyoung, making friends with Mingi. You had even planned to ask him to teach you how to play the lute. Hell, even making enemies with San was something you were looking forward to. And you hadn't tried the cook's famous apple pie that Mingi raved about. No. No, instead Hongjoong was going to catch out your lies, the stories you had told him and he was going to lock you up in the prison under the castle for the rest of your life. You were going to die, ancient, magicless, friendless, alone, all because you couldn't just tell the damn truth. What were you doi-

"What if it isn't a man?" your tongue expertly blurts out the first thing your racing brain can pluck out of thin air to try and save your back, and you have to stop yourself from squeaking out in shock.

"What do you mean?" Hongjoong asks, with genuine curiousity written across his features.

"Well, the prophecy says Man, doesn't it? But you've been taking it literally. As in, A Man. But what if it means anyone from the human race?"

Hongjoong stands stunned before you for a few seconds, as if he physically cannot comprehend what you have suggested.

"Are you suggesting that a woman will destroy my kingdom?"

"I-, well, no-"

"I think what Iris is trying to say," Yeosang pushes himself off the wall he was leaning against and approaches you and Hongjoong. "Is that we should broaden our horizons a little bit. You know, branch out from searching monstrously powerful men. Look into witches, sirens, even dragons and the like."

"None of those are human, mage." Hongjoong sneers.

Yeosang merely shrugs in response.

"Just a suggestion. Besides, Iris is right. It doesn't state a singular man. The gods haven't always made sense, have they? Perhaps expanding our criteria would be a good thing."

"It could also be somebody disguised as a human," Wooyoung pipes up. "Like a shape-shifter or even a halfling."

"Halfling?" you echo, confused.

"Somebody that is half human and half something else." Yeosang explains. "So a half human half elf would be called a halfling, as would a half human half giant and so on."

"So you really think that we might have something worse than a human on our hands?" Hongjoong asks. He nibbles his bottom lip in a way that makes you concerned for him. It's that moment you remember that he is an exceedingly young king, and that at times he's probably way out of his depth.

He pulls his tawny fur coat tighter over his shoulders and straightens up his posture. It reminds you of a wild fox, and his mannerisms in themselves remind you of a fox cub too. He moves quietly (a running theme of the key figures in this castle, you've noticed), and when he's calm he appears very serene.

You, Wooyoung and Yeosang all nod, and Hongjoong takes that as a sign to proceed.

"Very well. I will have orders out to search and interrogate anyone, and anything that seems suspicious. Let's hope we're right."

Yeah, you exhale. Let's hope I'm right.

[silenthillmutual]

horror/thriller movie recommendations based on your fave Danganronpa 1/2 character

the series in general: Saw (2004, dir. James Wan) - i can’t give much of a reasoning for this as i haven’t seen it but the “punishment fits the victim” trope appears to be a thing in Saw?

Makoto Naegi: It (2017, dir. Andres Muschietti) - as much about the power of friendship as it is about a fear beyond all others. the premise is probably relatively well known by now for the fact that there’s a big clown in it. content warnings: clowns, unsanitary, implied incest and csa.

Sayaka Maizono: Psycho (1960, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - this suggestion is an incredibly cheap shot, please forgive me. famous film, not sure if i can talk too much about the plotline without giving away the most important part.

Mukuro Ikusaba: Us (2019, dir. Jordan Peele) - doppelgangers show up to wreak havoc on an american family. themes of identity theft. much bloodier than Get Out. 

Leon Kuwata: Scream (1996, dir. Wes Craven) - admittedly haven’t seen this either yet. i know, i know, i’m a fake horror fan. but i know that it was made as a sort of tongue-in-cheek homage to the tropeyness of horror films, and i didn’t want to put any movie too blatantly humorous here. i thought this would fit Leon.

Chihiro Fujisaki: A Quiet Place (2018, dir. John Krasinski) - monsters that attack based on noise terrorize a family. most dialogue is delivered through sign language. also has a really touching family dynamic, especially between the father and his children.

Mondo Oowada: Pet Sematary (1989, dir. Mary Lambert) - haven’t seen this one either, whoops. all i know is it’s about, like, bringing people back from the dead or something, and that it’s based on a Stephen King book.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru: The Stand (1994, dir. Mick Garris) - technically a miniseries, but i wasn’t really sure what other horror story fit him. it’s the world at the end in a final battle between good and evil, and nothing says Ultimate Moral Compass more than that to me.

Hifumi Yamada: Strangers on a Train (1951, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - the whole “i’ll do your murder if you do mine” kinda hits for chapter 3 i think. i also remember his hostage being his sister, so he’d probably like the relationship between Anne and Barbara.

Celes Ludenberg: Crimson Peak (2015, dir. Guillermo del Toro) - there’s a line the main character says that’s something to the effect of how she’d rather be like Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley because she died a widow? that’s Celescore. content warning: incest.

Sakura Oogami: Hereditary (2018, dir. Ari Aster) - both in the way that her dojo is a family business and in the themes of being afraid of hurting your loved ones. content warnings: child death, car accident, decapitation, possession, drug usage.

Toko Fukawa: Rebecca (1940, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - again haven’t watched or read the book on which it is based but the fact alone that it is based on a book? and it’s not directed by stanley kubrick’s book-ruining ass?

Byakuya Togami: Rope (1948, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - based on a play which itself was probably based loosely on the Leopold & Loeb case, it’s famous in part for its protagonists being gay. also they have superiority complexes and think that the privileged few should be allowed to murder inferior people because they’re above morality.

Yasuhiro Hagakure: A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984, dir. Wes Craven) - i feel like this is closer to what his brand of horror would be, but also people not really believing that what’s happening is actually happening is kind of his m.o. too. content warning: i don’t remember if this is explicit in the original or not, but Freddy Krueger was a pedophile.

Aoi Asahina: Friday the 13th (1980, dir. Sean S. Cunningham) - again i just think this is closer to what Hina’s brand of horror would be, but also i feel like the summer camp aesthetic would be for her.

Kyouko Kirigiri: The Secret in Their Eyes (2009, dir. Juan Jose Campanella) - i don’t totally remember it but detective going off the rails trying to solve a rape & murder case. Very intense, but very good.

Junko Enoshima: Midsommar (2019, dir. Ari Aster) - gaslighting people into joining a death cult? yeah, that screams junko. content warnings: graphic suicide, drug usage, gaslighting, people on fire, nudity, sex.

Monokuma: Child’s Play (1988, dir. Tom Holland) - creepy toy carrying the soul of a murderer. still need to finish watching this one, other than “creepy doll” i don’t have anything to offer in the way of content warnings. 

Hajime Hinata: Get Out (2017, dir. Jordan Peele) - reluctant to go too much into details because i wouldn’t want to spoil the film for those who haven’t seen it, but the experiment done on Hajime vibes w this movie. content warning in that this film is about racism.

Twogami: Vertigo (1958, dir. Alfred Hitchcock) - too many details would give away spoilers but the identity theft theme of the film fits for a guy whose talent is in identity theft.

Teruteru Hanamura: Halloween (1978, dir. John Carpenter) - had a hard time thinking of a horror movie for Teruteru, but Halloween (and 80′s slashers in general) have a tendency to punish the horny.

Mahiru Koizumi: I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997, dir. Jim Gillespie) - would it be too much of a spoiler to say there’s similarities between this film & what gets Mahiru killed in-game?

Peko Pekoyama: The Purge (2013, dir. James DeMonaco) - people using masks to enact what they feel is justified revenge on the one day of the year when all crime is legal.

Hiyoko Saionji: The VVitch (2015, dir. Robert Eggers) - based on colonial-era folk tales about witches. very atmospheric, features the same kind of abusive slut-shaming verbal assaults Hiyoko hurls at others. content warning for briefly implied incest, some nudity, and parents being shitty.

Ibuki Mioda: Green Room (2015, dir. Jeremy Saulnier) - still need to see this one; punk band tries to survive to the end of the night after witnessing neo-nazis commit a murder.

Mikan Tsumiki: Carrie (1976, dir. Brian De Palma) - another film based on a stephen king novella, and also a pretty famous story. a longtime bullying & abuse victim starts to lose her shit after she begins developing telepathy. content warning for some nudity, fire, and an abusive mother.

Nekomaru Nidai: Les Yeux Sans Visage (1960, dir. Georges Franju) - wasn’t really sure where to go with him either, at first, and settled on body horror considering what happens to him later in-game. a doctor attempts to find a new face for his daughter after she is left disfigured from an accident. 

Gundham Tanaka: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1921, dir. Robert Wiene) - a mad scientist claims his hypnotized ‘somnambulist’ can see into the future, including the deaths of carnival-goers. highly influential silent film, german expressionist so peak aesthetic.

Nagito Komaeda: The Silence of the Lambs (1991, dir. Jonathan Demme) - it’s probably well enough known for Hannibal the Cannibal being in it, but it’s worth noting he’s not the primary antagonist of the film. he is the most memorable part of it, and his psychoanalysis is what made me think of Komaeda. content warnings for gore, sexual harassment, referenced cannibalism, period-typical transphobia (period is the late 80s/early 90s).

Chiaki Nanami: V/H/S (2012, various directors) - a horror anthology film of found-footage type shorts, not shown in chronological order of events. i don’t really remember the contents enough for warnings, check at your own risk.

Akane Owari: The Blair Witch Project (1999, dirs. Eduardo Sanchez & Daniel Myrick) - don’t really have a good reason for this one other than “they all go feral, which Akane is seconds from doing at any given moment.” i think she’d dig it. no real content warnings to be had, the original found footage film.

Kazuichi Souda: Jaws (1975, dir. Stephen Spielberg) - i’m not even entirely sure i know what would make him like it, maybe just the mechanical shark? i think we all know this as the movie that made people double down on their hatred of sharks. i don’t particularly care for it, but it’s popular.

Sonia Nevermind: Perfume: Story of a Murderer (2006, dir. Tom Tykwer) - follows a would-be perfumer as he murders women in an attempt to create the perfect scent. in retrospect i probably should have picked something based on a real crime, but i still think she’d like this one.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu: M (1931, dir. Fritz Lang) - when the police fail to catch a serial child murderer, the criminal underworld steps up to take action into their own hands. fitting, no?

Usami: Trick ‘r Treat (2007, dir. Michael Doughtery) - another sort of anthology film that follows what happens to townsfolk when they don’t abide by Halloween traditions. i put it for Usami because i thought it was actually kind of cute, as far as horror films go.

[headoverjojo]

Angst headcanons: S/O dying the same way as Caesar, while trying to protect Bruno's gang from an enemy stand/the boss?

I-

Uuuhhhhhh ç.ç

Here’s the angst, I hope you like iiittt ç.ç

Bruno’s gang’s s/o dies the same way as Caesar while trying to protect them

(Under the cut for length!)

Bruno Bucciarati

There was only one person that Bruno trusted with all his heart: his s/o. Together, they had faced everything; they were here when he was just at the beginning of his path into Passione, they were together when the boys joined their slowly growing gang, they were here when Bruno finally became Caporegime… they were not only his s/o; they were also his best friend, his adviser… his everything. He loved them more than anything else and now… and now they were gone.

It all happened in a confused blur: Bruno was holding Trish, with his s/o at his side, facing the Boss, who was hidden in the shadows. Both were ready to fight with all their strength for what was right: protecting Trish from her degenerated father. The Boss, however, hadn’t become the leader thanks to his mercy, but thanks to his immense power; a power that he used that time too. King Crimson activated his power, and the Boss, suddenly, wasn’t in front of them anymore.

Bruno didn’t even have the time to blink that he felt hastily pushed to a side. He turned around, in order to fall on his back and not on Trish, and he saw it: one of the enormous columns of the church was falling on the spot where, just a second before, he, Trish and his s/o were. Wait a minute… G/N! Why were they still there?! They had the chance to look at him one last time, a brief instant, before the column crushed them.

Bruno didn’t even have the time to realize what was just happened; he had to defend himself and Trish from the Boss. When Giorno arrived and the Boss retired, Bruno’s mind finally started to elaborate what was just happened. They… no, it couldn’t be… not now, not like this. He left Trish with Giorno and rushed to the point where he had seen his s/o for the last time, only to find a pool of blood that was expanding from under the column. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. His eyes were glued on the blood that now was staining his shoes. Mista, run inside a little after Giorno, had to forcefully tear Bruno from the scene, rushing outside with Giorno and a still unconscious Trish, and then on the boat, leaving that place of death.

Bruno seemed… dull. Dull and hollow, from then on. He moved, he went on, he led his boys, but without real motivation. If only, the only sparkle of motivation that still forced him not to just stop was that he had to protect Trish and to eliminate her father. His s/o had lost their life to allow him and Trish to come out alive from San Giorgio Maggiore; Bruno couldn’t allow anything to happen to Trish, or his s/o’s sacrifice would have been vain. He couldn’t permit it; he would have had time to cry for them once Trish was finally safe.

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio never thought to ever fall in love, not after what happened that terrible rainy night. But his s/o had proved him wrong; they managed to become his friend, they gently crawled under his skin, becoming important, fundamental to him, like water, like air. When he was feeling like the world was crushing him with its weight made of guilt and sorrow, they were here, with him, lifting that weight and carrying it with him. They were his fateful companion, his best friend, his confident, his lover… with them he felt safe and at ease. And, as they had a fighting stand, they were also perfect to go with him on missions, as, when Moody Blues was replaying, Abbacchio was basically defenseless. And this, in the end, led them to their end.

They were in a crippled tunnel, following Moody Blues, now in replay, to track a target’s actions. It all seemed normal, as usual; but, suddenly, Moody Blues stopped and Abbacchio fell on his knees, wheezing and panting. An enemy stand had grabbed Moody Blues on its throat and was tightening its grip, suffocating both user and stand. Abbacchio’s s/o was fast to act: they called out their stand, launching it to fight the enemy one and to free Moody Blues. They succeeded and they also managed to push Abbacchio out of the tight tunnel which, due to the fight, was starting to collapse. They had finally obliterated their enemy, but it was too late; the tunnel was crumbling. They still, however, tried to escape; they couldn’t give up so easily… Abbacchio, still dazed by the previous air loss, tried to come back, to help them, but it was all vain; the tunnel collapsed on his s/o when they were almost out.

Abbacchio stayed there all the night, digging and throwing aside debris, hour after hour, calling them, hoping beyond any possibility that they were still alive, somehow. He couldn’t accept their death, he didn’t want to; if they were dead, he… he would have died with them. It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t be… but, when a cloudy dawn brought a little more light, Abbacchio had to face the cruel reality: G/N was dead. He could just stand on the debris, his hands bloody and wounded, so still to seem a statue. Bruno and Fugo found him like this and a quick glance was enough to understand what had happened. The whole team grouped around Abbacchio, trying to help him not to crush down, now that he was totally lost. Bruno had already seen his friend like this one time, when he was on a self-destruction path; he managed to save him that time, he was willing to do it again. He just didn’t know if, this time, it would have been possible.

Guido Mista

Mista and his s/o shared a view of life focused on enjoying the little joys every day could give. This was valid also in their relationship; every misunderstanding they might have was resolved and left behind in a matter of hours, leaving them more mature and closer. Mista’s heart wasn’t easy to get, and what he felt for them was pure and sincere; he would have done everything for them, as they would have done everything for him. They weren’t just a formidable couple in daily life, but also a power couple on missions! Mista’s s/o’s stand was a long range stand, like the Pistols, so they could easily work in tandem; they were the perfect partner for missions. However, not even Mista’s carefulness, not even lady luck always at his side could prevent what happened that tragic day.

They were following from afar their target, silent and careful as always. They needed to be discreet, in order to do a good job. It was going all well, as always, but they didn’t know they were followed too by few of the target’s subordinates. When they noticed, it was too late; they couldn’t fight fairly, not against a whole group of enemies! They had to run, to try, at least, to save their life; they were behind him, just a meter behind, Mista remembered it well. The Pistols redirected few bullets behind, toward the targets. He didn’t see when it happened, but, at a certain point, one of the enemy stand activated its power, which was, basically, earthquakes. The ruined and tall walls of the alley they were running through started to dangerously shake; Mista felt a push on his back and he was propelled above, he fell on the ground, out of the alley. When he turned back, quickly, he saw just dust, so, so much dust, and debris, and heavy, heavy brick walls falling on his G/N, still in the alley. In a blink, everything was ended; the dust slowly settled down, and they weren’t at his side. They were still under the debris, under tons and tons of bricks. Mista clearly heard his heart breaking, as his legs betrayed him, making fall on the ground. The Pistols were trying both to make him get up and to search for G/N; they couldn’t believe they were gone, they didn’t want to… Mista didn’t move, he stayed on his knees, staring at the alley that had stolen G/N from his life. In that moment, the world didn’t seem anymore a place that could give small joys every day; it was just a source of pain. But… they wouldn’t have wanted him to give up. And so, he got up and he managed to save his life, and he went on like this, treasuring the life that G/N had saved sacrificing theirs. He couldn’t let their sacrifice go wasted.

Narancia Ghirga

He and his s/o met a little after Narancia joined Bruno and Fugo in the small, but growing, gang. They were like him, a person who had turned their back to an abusive family; now, Narancia was their family. They were best friend, the only support each other had had during the dark times of their life, the comforting voice when one of them was having a nightmare… their mutual and deep affection soon turned to a deeper feeling, something that made them be even closer. They were so close-knit that they didn’t even had to see the other to perfectly coordinate with them; they were perfect together, both in their daily life and in their work. And the breaking of this coordination was the thing that saved one and killed the other.

Narancia’s speciality were reconnaissance solo missions; with his Aerosmith, he could detect targets in a vast range. Instead, his s/o’s stand was a close range one, so, when Aerosmith was too far to be back in time to defend its user, G/N could defend both themselves and Narancia. It wasn’t the first time it did happen; to be fair, Narancia was pretty often attacked, as he was often mistaken as the weak link of Bucciarati’s gang. It happened that time too; Aerosmith was too far, and so his s/o had to call out their stand to protect both of them. Their stand was ridiculously strong and resistant; the enemy’s stands couldn’t do anything against it. But, when Aerosmith was finally approaching, G/N noticed that one of the enemy stands was leaking something… something oily, something greasy, like…

Their eyes widened in horror when they understood. They didn’t have the time to scream to Narancia to not shoot, as Aerosmith was already doing it. They had just the time use their stand to launch him far, a second before the bullets touched the strange substance, making it explode. Narancia, who was landed on a couple of garbage can that had cushioned the fall, felt his heart sink when he saw the low building they were on crushing down. No, it couldn’t be… he immediately ran to it, digging, screaming their name, screaming until his lungs were burning. No one answered his call. His teammates had to forcefully tear him away from the debris, as he was screaming and crying and pleading to leave him here, saying that he had to find them… they died because of him. They died because he shot with Aerosmith. Bruno’s words were useless; nothing could convince him that it hadn’t been his fault. And maybe… maybe the only way to make amend and to honour them was to go on. To go on and to try to make something good, as they would have wanted, even if, from now on, alone.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo met his s/o in the streets. He had roamed around for a little, by now, and he knew how to get away with every kind of small crimes he usually did to survive; they were clearly in the streets since a little time, maybe not even a week, and they looked lost and scared… Fugo knew how it was to feeling like that. And so, he befriended them, teaching them how to survive and how to use law and every kind of little quibble to their benefit. They soon became an unstoppable duo that could survive any situation and, from friends, they became lovers, slowly, smoothly, as it was a natural step. Even in Bruno’s gang, they were still working together, as G/N was the only one who managed to calm down Fugo even when he was so enrage to lose a little the control of Purple Haze. They would have done and given everything for each other; and they did it ‘till the last day.

Fugo knew that, even if a plan was planned to the smallest details, something could go wrong. This happened that night; he and his s/o had to control a delicate exchange at the docks. Fugo didn’t like that place; the containers were surrounding them and they could have been the perfect place for a sniper. He had pointed it out, but the Boss wanted the exchange to happen in that place, and the Boss’s orders couldn’t be discussed. And so here they were, and, as Fugo feared, the containers were used as cover to attack them. Fugo couldn’t call out Purple Haze, not if he wanted everyone around to live; so, he quickly and hastily grabbed the others, rushing them to a safer place. His s/o, instead, was covering their back, using their stand to throw back the bullets. The enemies, however, didn’t stop at bullets; to G/N’s horror, the containers started to shake, to shake more and more, until they started to fall. They looked above, at their Fugo was dragging the idiots they had to protect to a safe shelter, and they made their decision without a second thought. They catched a glimpse of a container that was falling dangerously close to Fugo and the group, and so, instead of use their stand to protect themselves from the bullets or to sustain the container, as it wasn’t strong enough for this, they used it to push away the group, stumbling back. The last thing they saw before the container crushed them were Fugo’s big, scared eyes and their name on his lips.

In that moment, Fugo’s life stopped, for a while. In his ears he was hearing a sharp ring, his eyes were glued on the container that had crushed his G/N, on the blood -his mind couldn’t even picture the imagine of his G/N’s crushed body- that was leaking from under it. He didn’t even feel Purple Haze coming out, lead by his totalizing agony, his loss, his mourn. Purple Haze reduced to a pulp everyone dared to come close to the last place where G/N was alive, and that now was their grave. Fugo didn’t fool himself into hoping that they were alive. They were not. They were gone. And he? What should he do now? Maybe just go on, a little more hollow, a little colder than before. And surely alone.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno wasn’t a person who easily trusted someone. He was wary, he had been burned and scarred, in the past, by people he trusted. And, generally speaking, people didn’t consider him a lot. He was pretty invisible, and, all in all, he liked it. It was better than being bullied. But G/N was different. They were genuinely kind with him, and they seemed to sincerely enjoy his company. They became the only friend Giorno had, his most treasured person. They were not only his best friend, but his family too; and, after years, when Giorno came to understand the real entity of his feelings, lovers. They were his most trustful confident and his only supporter even when everything seemed lost; they were his rock and his reason to go on even when even his determination wasn’t enough. They were ready to follow him everywhere and to do everything to him; even to give their own life for him.

They had followed him also in that crazy, crazy rushing week where they all almost died at least twice; they were here when they took the plane from Venice, they were here when Abbacchio was killed, they were here when Silver Chariot Requiem switched the souls of everyone in Rome. They cried along Mista and Bruno when Narancia met his death, and they tried with them to take that damned arrow that had already took so much from them. And this was what the Boss was waiting for: they were so focused on the arrow that they, just for one, but fundamental, instant, forgot about the Boss, and he took full advantage of it. Using King Crimson, the Boss managed to put himself at a safe distance and near to an unsafe pylon which needed to be repaired. When the time started again to flow normally, for the others, the pylon was already falling on them. G/N saw it first and also saw that Giorno would have been crushed; not even Gold Experience could do anything, not in a so short time. So, they did the only thing they could do: they pushed away Giorno, stumbling in his place and, when the pylon fell, it crushed them instead of him. When Giorno turned around, he didn’t see G/N with them, as they should, they were nowhere to be found… then, his eyes fell on the blood that was warming his hands on the ground. It came from under the pylon.

Giorno didn’t really remember what happened after that. He had flashes of the arrow, of his new Requiem stand, of Diavolo’s demise… his memories started again when he found G/N’s body, now empty of any soul. It was perfect; they seemed just asleep… Giorno gently scooped them in his arms, as Mista did the same with Narancia, as Trish picked Bruno’s body on Polnareff’s wheelchair. They all were carrying an important and heavy, oh, so heavy load. Giorno felt dull, numb, as he wasn’t even living, right now, as he was just dreaming a terrible nightmare. He just wanted to wake up… but he couldn’t wake up from reality. They had given their life for him and his dream; it was now his duty to live on and to realize it, in order to not make their sacrifice useless.

[f4liveblogarchives]

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #225

Thu Apr 29 2020 [10:09 PM] Wack'd: So the first two and two-thirds pages are something strange. Or I guess they're strange from an in universe perspective. [10:10 PM] Wack'd: It's basically a condensed version of the back half of the previous issue, rather than  a recap. So reading these back to back it feels like everyone's reliving a slightly different, slightly faster version of the same events. [10:10 PM] Bocaj: Yeah that happens [10:11 PM] Bocaj: I complain about comics not establishing context with recap pages enough that I can’t really say boo about this kind of thing [10:11 PM] Aleph Null: it’s just a jump to the left [10:11 PM] Aleph Null: and then a step to the right [10:11 PM] Wack'd: I think I might actually prefer it to the writer clumsily trying to give all of this information again in dialogue? [10:12 PM] Wack'd: It's basically a previously-on. [10:12 PM] Wack'd: Though the fact that it's not really marked as such is weird [10:12 PM] Bocaj: Like Aleph’s Japanese animes [10:12 PM] maxwellelvis: Remember recap pages? [10:13 PM] Bocaj: I’ve heard of them [10:14 PM] Wack'd: I think also what's throwing me is that they try to hit some of the same dramatic beats again? Like, you're not really going to convince me "the blind king weeps in crimson" is vital story information

[10:15 PM] maxwellelvis: Because it sounds cool [10:15 PM] Bocaj: Well that’s nightmare fuel [10:16 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, I've spent a weirdly long time talking about a recap, but I this is probably the normal amount of time I spend on the first three pages so be glad you're still getting content I guess [10:17 PM] Bocaj: I do like content [10:19 PM] Wack'd: Interesting thing about reading these blind and relaying that to you is that it's hard to know in the moment what information will and won't be relevant. For instance, I didn't really make much of this scene last issue:

[10:20 PM] Wack'd: But I wish I had, because it makes this moment look friggin bonkers in context:

[10:20 PM] maxwellelvis: "Consistency? What's that?" [10:21 PM] Wack'd: We've hit a new level of Sue as a blank-slate stock-woman-character: the same writer is making her either a nag or a worrywart one issue apart basically on a whim. [10:22 PM] Wack'd: Also: "just wants a normal life" Sue is the most boring version of Sue [10:23 PM] Bocaj: Just a receptacle for women stereotypes? [10:23 PM] Wack'd: Moreorless, yeah [10:23 PM] Umbramatic: the Ur-Woman-Stereotype [10:23 PM] Bocaj: Boo [10:23 PM] Bocaj: Defined personality women are great [10:24 PM] Wack'd: Agreed [10:24 PM] Wack'd: Moving along, we get a very long-winded explanation of the exact science of how this place works which I'm sure makes complete sense [10:24 PM] Bocaj: Science in comics is always to the highest standards [10:24 PM] Bocaj: Always [10:26 PM] Wack'd: Reed is like "I'm not really fine with being threatened and woulda saved your life anyway" and Korgon's like "y'know what, I trust you, we're cool now" [10:26 PM] Bocaj: See: he shoulda just said please to begin with [10:26 PM] maxwellelvis: "Oh, I shoulda thought'a that" [10:27 PM] Wack'd: Ha! He really does just send Vikings to go shopping for him

[10:27 PM] Bocaj: God. In a modern comic we’d see some Vikings at the supermarket and it would be great [10:29 PM] Wack'd: Have I mentioned yet Doug Moench seems to *really like science*

[10:30 PM] Bocaj: SCIENCE! :D [10:30 PM] maxwellelvis: Nah, like, not superscience. Real science. [10:30 PM] Umbramatic: i am glad that reaction image is making the rounds [10:31 PM] Wack'd: So Reed does a lot of research and asks a lot of questions and thinks really hard (all in narrative captions, you're not missing much) and eventually he's finally ready to operate! [10:31 PM] Bocaj: Woo [10:32 PM] Wack'd: Buuuuuut the Four's powers go haywire again. Korgon has a machine that cures them of the radiation to stabilize them, but Wiglif--suspicious guy from earlier--thinks they just wanna be at full strength so they can kill Korgon and escape. [10:33 PM] Bocaj: Dammit Wiglif! That’s such a Wiglif thing to think! [10:33 PM] Wack'd: To shut him up, Korgon gives Hrolf--trusting guy from earlier--a "Darkfield Rod" that will nullify their powers if they try any funny business. [10:34 PM] Wack'd: And then Korgon immediately falls unconscious. [10:34 PM] Umbramatic: that doesn't sound omnious at all [10:34 PM] maxwellelvis: I give it five minutes before Wiglif tries to steal it. [10:34 PM] maxwellelvis: NO! Five PANELS [10:35 PM] Wack'd: To be generous I will not count these three where we cut to Asgard

[10:35 PM] Bocaj: Oh hi Thor [10:36 PM] Bocaj: I didn’t know you’d be in this book [10:36 PM] Wack'd: "Just considering a crossover, m'boy! I just got the faintest whiff some other book is stealing our shtick!" [10:36 PM] Bocaj: I’m going to be imagining Odin speaking like the king of Hyrule forever now [10:37 PM] Bocaj: I want you to know what you’ve done [10:37 PM] Wack'd: I apologize for nothing [10:37 PM] Bocaj: =__= [10:37 PM] maxwellelvis: Sorry not sorry [10:37 PM] Wack'd: Anyway they do the procedure and we're not sure if it works. And then another cutaway! Sorry max it's been more than five panels [10:38 PM] Umbramatic: vsfb jnjgfdmkb ;zgl,;.' n [10:38 PM] Bocaj: To the punishment dome with you [10:39 PM] maxwellelvis: *the dome.gif* [10:39 PM] Wack'd: Hey what the heck does that third panel mean? Did...did Alicia just get a vision of the North Pole? Or, like...uh...I actually don't have a second guess

[10:41 PM] Bocaj: When did Alicia brunette [10:41 PM] maxwellelvis: She overshaded her hair this morning [10:41 PM] Wack'd: It's been orange for a while now, too [10:42 PM] Bocaj: She’s supposed to be close enough to Sue that she can be a bad imposter [10:42 PM] Umbramatic: technicolor anime hair [10:42 PM] Bocaj: It’s the foundation of a good 60% of the things I mock Johnny for [10:42 PM] Wack'd: I think we're all okay quietly forgetting that except you for some reason [10:42 PM] Bocaj: See also 60% [10:42 PM] Wack'd: Mocking Johnny is admittedly a pretty good reason [10:43 PM] Wack'd: Ben also had a crush on Sue in the very early days if you want to take that ball and run with it [10:43 PM] Bocaj: It definitely has layers [10:43 PM] maxwellelvis: You've both made it weird. [10:43 PM] Wack'd: Anyway the procedure worked! Probably! Korgon decides he's just gonna assume it worked.

[10:44 PM] maxwellelvis: Was he always that tall? [10:44 PM] Umbramatic: always a safe bet [10:44 PM] Wack'd: (Y'ever notice Reed's the only one who ever grows even a little facial hair? Did Johnny just never go through puberty from the neck up?) [10:45 PM] Wack'd: @maxwellelvis : Yeah, we've just seen him laying down on a nebulously high platform so far. Ben remarks on seeing him for the first time he's like 15 feet [10:45 PM] maxwellelvis: I think he just shaves regularly to keep up his heartthrob gimmick. [10:46 PM] Bocaj: Here’s Johnny with a beard [10:46 PM] maxwellelvis: When he gets on in years, he's probably planning to let it grow out so that the Human Torch can have a *flaming beard* [10:46 PM] Bocaj: How much do you hate this? [10:46 PM] maxwellelvis: Like that. [10:46 PM] Wack'd: Sure, but if Reed has stubble from tirelessly working on this procedure...well, I guess Johnny mighta found time to shave [10:46 PM] maxwellelvis: He can just burn stubble off and they're in a literal house of mirrors. [10:46 PM] Wack'd: That's not a bad look on him. He's like the hot version of a grizzled old sailor [10:47 PM] Umbramatic: dilf [10:47 PM] maxwellelvis: I want to imagine someone said to him at some point, "Okay, but consider: A beard of FIRE!" [10:48 PM] Wack'd: I feel like "flaming beard" is a gay joke somehow but like. If Johnny has a partner who's overtly stereotypically homosexual that's the opposite of a beard? [10:48 PM] Wack'd: Unless he doesn't want people to know he's straight, I guess [10:48 PM] Bocaj: Beard of FIRE? [10:48 PM] maxwellelvis: I mean he probably has some sort of LGBT following. [10:49 PM] maxwellelvis: Chamber? What are you doing in Japan? [10:49 PM] Wack'd: One of my earliest exposures to this character outside of the Story films was an essay on why he's definitely gay, so [10:49 PM] Bocaj: Having a flaming beard [10:51 PM] Wack'd: I tried Google to find the essay but it turned out the one piece of corroborating evidence I remember it is one that literally the entire Internet has picked up on at some point [10:52 PM] Wack'd: Do yourself a favor, google "johnny storm fire island". Or don't, and let it be a pleasant surprise in like 90 issues. [10:52 PM] Bocaj: Can doooo [10:52 PM] Bocaj: The latter [10:54 PM] Wack'd: "I think I might be Satan, we should talk about that later" is not a good way to make me eager to talk to you later

[10:56 PM] Wack'd: While everybody else is celebrating, Korgon loads up enough radiation to keep this place running for another hundred years, and then asks Reed to make him mortal again [10:56 PM] Wack'd: Wiglif ovehears and is going to do something sneaky [10:57 PM] Wack'd: The next day Reed tries it, but someone tampered with the machine overnight. Gee I wonder [10:58 PM] Wack'd: Anyway Korgon is now more powerful than ever and fucking pissed [10:58 PM] Bocaj: Dammit Wiglif! [11:00 PM] Wack'd: 'If you press this red button, you get godlike powers and life-giving laser beams, BUT everything looks real spooky forever"

[11:00 PM] maxwellelvis: *Sweating superhero guy* [11:00 PM] Bocaj: I mean you take the bad you take the good you take what’s left and there you have [11:01 PM] Bocaj: Spooky shadow monsters [11:01 PM] Wack'd: The fantasts of life [11:01 PM] Umbramatic: fucking paralasys demons [11:02 PM] Wack'd: Haha WHOOPS

[11:02 PM] Umbramatic: gee willikers, that was a curveball [11:03 PM] Wack'd: Anyway from here things get predictable [11:04 PM] Bocaj: Fucking Wiglif [11:04 PM] Wack'd: There's a fight, it looks like the Four are doomed, Thor shows up, the tide is turned [11:05 PM] Wack'd: For some reason when I first glanced at this panel I thought that second speech bubble was coming from one of the Vikings

[11:05 PM] Bocaj: Yay Thor [11:05 PM] Wack'd: "Uh, boss. Hey. You get that's the literal god of thunder, right? And you want us to, what, shoot him with lasers? Maybe think about this?" [11:06 PM] Bocaj: Lasers are just light and Thor’s Baldrother shines lights out of his armpits [11:07 PM] Wack'd: Korgon is so pissed by his impending defeat he's just like "fuck this, I'm just gonna destroy everything, including this dome" [11:08 PM] Bocaj: Hey sometimes you gotta cut your losses [11:08 PM] Wack'd: Wiglif: 😟 [11:10 PM] Wack'd: The Four and Thor are at a loss so Thor summons Odin [11:11 PM] Wack'd: 

[11:13 PM] Wack'd: This is kind of a solution for a different problem than Korgon has. Like. He doesn't want to be a God? It was kind of thrust on him? I guess it's true that God needs followers and followers need a God, but if he's content to be a follower I don't really see an issue with that [11:13 PM] maxwellelvis: He also has a responsibility to these people. [11:13 PM] Wack'd: And it's not like he abandoned his people, he left them 100 years of free energy, during which time they could've solved things on their own in any number of ways [11:13 PM] Bocaj: Yeah I don’t really understand what Odin is getting at [11:14 PM] Wack'd: Also, outside the religious philosophy stuff [11:15 PM] Wack'd: It's a bit naff to just have an all powerful being show up and solve the heroes problems. Especially if it's not with superpowers but rather with delivering the intended message of the story [11:15 PM] maxwellelvis: Have the Four solved any problems on their own this entire run? [11:15 PM] Wack'd: Like you could've had Reed talk about the responsibilities of leadership or Ben talk about being a freak or Sue talk about how sacrificing a normal life can be worth it for the people you care about [11:16 PM] Wack'd: None of those would've been fresh or original but they at least would've been, you know, the main characters solving the problem of their own book [11:16 PM] maxwellelvis: They needed Gabriel to deal with Scratch, they needed Captain Marvel to deal with the Skrulls, they needed Thor to deal with Korgon [11:16 PM] Umbramatic: geez [11:17 PM] maxwellelvis: They've been reduced to guest stars in their own book! [11:17 PM] Bocaj: Oof [11:17 PM] Bocaj: FIRST FAMILY [11:18 PM] Wack'd: Things have been kind of guest cast heavy yeah! Don't know what's up with that and I suspect if you asked Moench or Sienkiewicz they wouldn't remember, besides Gabriel being Moech's baby [11:18 PM] maxwellelvis: Are there any stories from before the hiatus by them that I missed? [11:19 PM] Wack'd: It's weird thinking about the fact that I'm currently reading a run of comics that were written by guys with social media presences who seem fairly approachable [11:19 PM] Wack'd: I don't know if it would work but I could probably just ask them things if I wasn't a dick about it [11:20 PM] Wack'd: Not sure there's a kind way to be like "why are there so many guest stars in this year's worth of comics you wrote 40 years ago" but [11:21 PM] maxwellelvis: Something like, "Hey, I'm reading through your brief Fantastic Four run you had with Bill Sienkiewicz and there seem to be quite a few stories in a row where the Four's issue is solved by someone from another book? Do you remember what was up with that?" [11:21 PM] Wack'd: (Btw Moench and Sienkiewicz were doing a *Moon Knight* run simultaniously with this which is why Sue was reading an issue to Franklin last time. Go figure) [11:21 PM] maxwellelvis: Heh [11:22 PM] Umbramatic: oh huh [11:22 PM] Wack'd: Yeah there's really no way to phrase this that doesn't sound like "why did you write this so bad" [11:22 PM] Wack'd: Ah well [11:23 PM] maxwellelvis: The best-case scenario other than getting some hot scoop on the Marvel offices at that time is probably Doug Moench suddenly realizing that himself. [11:23 PM] Bocaj: Were they long term writers or doing some fill ins and one offs? [11:23 PM] maxwellelvis: They did like ten issues. [11:23 PM] Bocaj: I’m in a period of that in avengers. There’s not a lot of guest stars but they’re a lot of inconsequential issues [11:25 PM] Bocaj: Shame because there are one off villains and characters that would have been interesting to be picked up for more stuff [11:30 PM] Wack'd: Yeah, ten issues and Moench wrote an annual. [11:31 PM] Wack'd: But also, their first issue announced that we were sticking with them for a while--I suspect it was intended to be a longer run [11:31 PM] Wack'd: And then Bryne sniped them somehow

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Conflict Resolution (baon)

Summary: Set after the events in 'Bedside Stories', Sans is the guy holding everything together. Mostly.

Tags:  Kustard, Background Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Injury, Betrayal

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

~~*~~

It was kind of a shame that Red was so persnickety about anyone being in his living space, because hiring some professional housekeepers was about the only way his bedroom was ever going to share space with the word ‘clean’. There was always a clutter of dishes on the dresser, whose drawers always hung open, every one of ‘em more empty than not. The floor was more of a storage facility for dirty clothes than a place for walking, and the bed? Well. Sans’s learned some new curse words the last time Edge came over to take care of Red when he was boiling over with a fever, something something befouled and beshitted nightmare fuel, as Sans recalled.

The Edgelord always did have a way with words.

But Edge wasn’t gonna be able to offer a new turn of phrase today, not with his leg out of commission. That left Sans as the one to suck it up and get it done, and he brought fresh sheets over from his place, tossing the ragged ball of linens into the corner before he made up the bed. Papyrus would probably have a snarky thing or two to say about his hospital corners, but eh, right about now hospitality was more important than hospital, since he wasn’t about to get Red to go to one, anyway.

That’d been before he even headed over to Edge’s and Stretch’s to gather up his wayward bonefriend, before he knew he’d need to layer down about a dozen towels to sop up all that damn paint. As it was, he was probably going to be buying Paps some new sheets, if he didn’t want to endure an hour-long presentation on how to properly get stains out, Sans, are you paying attention, I spent a lot of time on this powerpoint!

Red’s hankering for privacy was currently taking one for the team in the form of the hulking Monster with a set of surprisingly delicate antennae who was currently leaning over him, the eerie glow of his healing magic lighting the room. Doc looked more than a little out of place, his nattily ironed shirt incongruous in comparison to the rumpled ones crumpled on the floor. But he’d hardly batted an eyelash when Sans showed up in his living room, only stepped right up and came along for a ride.

Not like Sans or Red had much of a choice about it. Had to bring in a ringer, ‘cause the hospital was off the table and if there was one thing Sans was shit at, it was healing. Edge was a little rough around the (heh) edges with it, but Sans never got the knack for it at all, an everloving shame because it do come in handy from time to time.

But if wishes were horses, there’d be a herd eating their way through the piles of weeds in their backyard. So Sans kept back, leaning against the wall next to an opened window smoking an unfiltered, and let the professionals handle it.

The once freshly-made bed looked like a murder scene and even knowing it was only paint didn’t make it look less disturbing. Sans kept watching anyway; Red wasn’t in any shape to keep a beady eye on the doc, so Sans would do it for him.

Seemed to take forever before the Doc leaned back with a sigh. “That’s all I can do for now, anything more will hurt more than it heals.”

Sans nodded. He knew that much about healing, anyway; you could only force the bones to knit so much before it took a turn in the other direction.

“thanks, buddy.” He crushed the barely smoldering butt out into an overflowing ashtray. The Doc didn't need a warning to keep this little incident under the table. He was old enough to know how this game was played and he wouldn’t be bringing it up during any others, not even when he was losing the latest round of checkers against old Gerson down at the corner store.

“No problem. I’ll stop by in two days to check, but the residual healing should carry him through. Now, I’m assuming you’d rather give me a lift home than have anyone see me coming out?” Doc shook his head with a grin as Sans held out a hand. “Don’t think so, you’ve fooled me once, twice, and three times a lady with that old rib-tickler.”

“heh, guess you already gave us a hand, you don’t need one of mine.” Sans tucked the whoopie cushion into his pocket and stretched out his arms, hands spread in a loose shrug. “okay, choose a spot to hang on and i’ll take you home. nothing below the belt, or i’ll have a bone to pick with ya.”

Shortcutting the Doc home and back only took a moment. Red hadn’t moved while he was gone, sprawled out mostly bare on the stained towels, sockets closed. Between the Doc and himself, they’d stripped Red down to his shorts. Some of the paint was scrubbed away but there was still plenty to go around. No way to clean him up any better without a long soak in a bathtub and a stiff brush, but that’d have to wait. The heater was already cranked up, both their bones appreciated it a little on the tropical side, especially ones as beat up and scarred as Red’s.

He’d had 1 HP coming in from Underfell, slowly ticking up to five on this side of the mirror, and some days it was hard not to think of that, tracing the ridged scars on his rib cage with tongue and teeth, wondering at how they hadn’t killed him. He had a coupla new ones now and the stark white blemishes would eventually fade to match the rest. Eventually.

Sans sat down next to Red, uncaring of the filthy towels and sheets, studying his face. Beneath his sockets looked deeply bruised, more bruises mottled around his freshly healed bones. He stank of oily paint and sour sweat, the smell of it practically baking out of him and a good excuse to leave the window open for a while longer. He looked asleep, should be asleep, but Sans knew better.

True to form, Red didn’t open his sockets as he asked, “did you find him?”

“right where you left him. bastard was kinda hard to miss.” Sans lit another cigarette, inhaled the smoke, then held it against Red’s mouth, letting him take a drag. He coughed it back out, rolling onto his side while Sans watched impassively, exhaling a nicotine-drained cloud of his own, “red paint, really? that’s not a pun so much as a bad fashion statement.”

Red rasped out a laugh, took another drag when Sans offered it. “best i could do. probably not too many would think to check that old storage shed in old new home. surprised he did, he ain’t that smart. must’ve figured out i was onto him somehow and was lookin’ for a decent hidyhole.” His sharp-toothed smile widened. “red paint. think they had it set aside cause they’d planned on repainting the school this summer. if i’d known it would offend your aesthetics, woulda aimed for the whitewash, but the universe has to have its jokes too, i guess.” He scratched at his healing ribs with a groan, until Sans swatted his hands away before he could undo all the work Doc just shoved into him. “fucker was a lot tougher than he looks. even harder to take down if i didn't want to dust him, ‘specially without paps.” Red’s sockets slit open, faded crimson peering out. “i ain’t bad with the control, but i was too pissed this time. fucker almost got them all killed.”

“yeah,” Sans agreed. For trying not to dust him, Red did plenty of damage. He’d pulled the security tapes, even a lonely storage shed had them, but they were next to useless. Too much magic flying around disrupted the recording. Probably for the best, Sans didn’t really need to see it. Hearing it was bad enough and he’d turned off the tape the first time he heard bone breaking with a sickening crack.

Their traitor had been bruised from ankle to eyebrow, or at least every part of him that wasn’t covered in paint. They’d found him right where Red left him before his hop/skip to the other side of town for some emergency healing, unconscious and still pinned to the wall with a seething fester of bones, HP slowly ticking downward with karmic retribution.

What Sans didn’t bother mentioning to Red was that his control was almost better than his own. He’d stood there too long looking at the unconscious fucker but seeing his own brother, hurt and so still in a hospital bed, a rage welling up from so deep it left him shaken.

He wondered with bitter humor what his therapist would think if he told her exactly what he was using her calming techniques for, breathing in through his nasal passage, out through his teeth, until that soul-deep rage turned into something manageable. She’d probably turn it around on him, get him to spill too much, more than he’d thought possible in that way she had. There was something to look forward to.

Truth be told, the anger was almost a relief. Something focused and real, better than his diffused fear and frustration whenever he looked at Paps, who was still in the hospital, doing better, yeah, better every day, but never should’ve been there to begin with.

Delayed reaction, maybe, or maybe only being face to unconscious face with the bastard who’d almost got his brother senselessly killed.

Red was never as oblivious as Sans might want, his gaze felt weighty and knowing as he asked, “what're they gonna do with him?”

“don't think it's been decided yet. normally treason is punishable by death," Sans said calmly, as if that wasn't a sentence usually carried out by the King's Judge. Asgore already knew he wasn’t taking on this one; he couldn’t, the idea of being impartial was laughable, obscene. "can't exactly have a trial. we don't need monsters or humans knowing that one of our own was spilling the beans to an extremist group of haters, trying to get all our ambassadors killed."

"yeah.” The world-weariness in that single word made Sans want to lean in closer, to touch, to hold, shit, he didn’t know. He didn’t have a chance, Red sighed and went on, “don't even know why he did it.”

“eh, jerry's always been a resentful piece of shit. edge recently transferred him down to the records department in the basement to work on his own, since there'd been some complaints about his attitude in his old department." Sans smiled thinly. "from what i hear, he threw some of that bitch stretch's way and our honey bun took it hard. that didn't go over real well with your bro."

“so what, he sold out his own kind because he's not happy with his job?" Red’s laugh was sharp enough to cut, if Sans let it.

“nope, he set them up because he's a piece of shit and don’t you forget it.” Sans’s eye light gleamed a brief flash of blue-yellow, filling the room, "i got a real good look at him and i ain't too keen on some of the ideas he had about others. coulda done without seeing his extended torture porn fantasies, for sure."

"yeah, go ahead and forget that shit. we do any torture porn, i expect the ideas to be original." Red’s sigh rattled through him, echoing that bone-deep weariness. “gonna have to figure out what to say to stretch, told him i’d let him know what went down.”

Sans raised a brow bone. Interesting. “you’re gonna tell him all this?”

“fuck, no,” Red said scornfully. “didn’t make no promises. just need a good cover story.” He slanted Sans an amused look. “makes two of us. you gonna tell me how you found me? i only sent you all directions to find our turncoat.”

Sans shrugged. “eh, it was easy. the tracker i stuck on you at the hospital started beeping when you were in range. i was already headed to the storage shed before your text, only had to switch gears when the location updated.”

The flutter of outrage across Red’s expression was a deliciously filling meal. “where the fuck did you—“

“please, hypocrite, the three you have on me aren’t just for show and i know it,” Sans yawned. “but if you can find ‘em, you’re welcome to take ‘em off. if. and we wouldn’t need a cover story at all if you’da come here to begin with, but noooo, you had to go fuck up your bro’s kitchen.”

Red only grinned, unashamed. “sorry, i was kinda flying on pure instinct, trying not to dust and all. sides, like you can fuckin’ heal? stretch kinda feels like getting smacked upside the soul when he does it, but at least he can.” The gleaming humor on his face faded, icing over. “you talk to asgore, you tell him solitary confinement is a better punishment. anything else is too good for that piece of shit. death ends it all and beatin’s gotta stop sometime. thoughts can go for an eternity and with a nice slot of attempted murders and two successful ones, i ain’t feelin’ charitable. he can think about it all for a nice, long time.”

Sans wasn’t feeling particularly philanthropic himself, but he only nodded agreeably. All his rage was burned off for the time being, burnt out in the harsh blurt of fear when he’d first seen Red cradled in his brother’s arms, before anyone saw Sans was there. He’d tamped it back down pretty fast, obviously Red was all right if his bro wasn’t sweeping him off the floor, but now he only felt exhausted. Emptied. Tomorrow he could work up something else to feel.

They sat together smoking for a time, only the sound of exhales and the occasional clack of phalanges as they traded the butt back and forth. Right about the time Sans was about to suggest Red give sleeping it off a try, Red spoke up again, gruffly.

“almost forgot. here.”

Where he pulled it from, Sans wasn’t sure, At first he didn’t even know what it was. Sure the light jangle of a buckle registered as it dropped into his lap, but it still took a minute to filter through his weary mind. Sans slowly picked it up, turning it over in his hands. A collar.

It was made of a narrow strip of plain black leather, the inside lined with a soft, velvety material in a shade of deep crimson. Simple, practical, for the most part. Until you hit the buckle and that was something else entirely; intricately wrought, etched with delicate scrollwork and in the shape of a heart. A soul.

Huh. Looked like he had room for another emotion today, after all.

Sans glanced at Red, but his sockets were carefully closed and so was his expression, puckered tight as Blue’s asshole, if he’d had one.

“you romantic, you.” Sans tossed it back into Red’s lap, the buckle clacking against his femur. He hoped it stung. “don’t think so.” He could feel the tension rise in Red, even though they weren’t touching, hovering over him like a midnight ghost, and let it strain for a moment before he added, “once you can sit up and put it on me yourself, then we’ll go there.”

“heh.” With one word, that tension dissolved. Red managed to get up on one elbow, and his grin was all jagged teeth, devouring. “c’mere.”

Sans leaned in, a little, but didn’t make it easy for him, made Red scootch in closer, nudging Sans’s chin up so he could reach. The rasp of velvet-softened leather circling his throat was an unknown quantity, and so was the coolness of the buckle, setting against his bones. He swallowed, felt the collar rise and fall against his cervical vertebra. The unfamiliar weight seemed heavier than possible, but eh, made sense. There was a lot more to it than the physical mass, now wasn’t there.

Certainly Red’s gaze had a weight of its own, resting on that thin strip of leather with hot intensity. “that what you wanted?”

“been wanting it.” he wasn’t ashamed to say it, happy to be safely selfish for once. “took you long enough, icebergs would win a race against your smooth moves.”

That heat leapt higher, crimson eye lights briefly sparkling like a gimcrack kiddie firework. Something might’ve come of it if Red hadn’t already had the shit beat out of him earlier. That heat only lingered a minute before it flickered out, faded, and Red sank back onto the mattress with a groan. He didn’t move when Sans shifted to lay next to him, uncaring of the still tacky paint smears surrounding them as he dragged up the ruined blankets.

His scoff was hoarse, thin, as Red said, “you takin’ a nap? you’ve got a ton of shit to do out there.”

Like Sans couldn’t hear the plea beneath it? He knew Red too well now; Red’d made a mistake, tipped his hand, and now that Sans knew his cards, he wasn’t about to fold.

He settled a hand on Red’s rib cage, fingers tracing over scars, old and new. “we’ve got an entire team handling it. shut up and go to sleep.”

Red’s ribs rose and fell with his rough chuckle, but it evened out quickly, fading into slow, even breaths as he took his orders. Sans slid a little closer, until they were pressed together from shoulder to femur. Not enough, but it’d do for now.

Once Red was out, Sans reached up to touch that buckle where it was nestled against his throat and already warmed by his body heat. He traced the shape of it for a long time.

Shit to do, yeah, Sans had plenty of it. Like right now, it was time to start waiting for Red to wake up, but that was fine.

Sans was patient.

-finis-

[thecrownedlioness]

our past: after the ultrasound.

Summer emerges from the room, looking tired. As medically advanced as the Sanctuary is, Dr. Mason had been forced to use unconventional methods in order to be 100% sure, but she'd told him to do whatever it took. There was no room for any mistakes when it came to the paternity of her child.

Well, her children, as it turns out. One boy belonging to her husband, and the other to her worst nightmare.. 

Summer turns immediately to Michael as he sits overwhelmed in the chair of the waiting room, and stands in front of him. She lowers herself onto one knee in front of him, damning what Abbadon will say or do. 

"Your Majesty," she says to him, with a little smile. Summer knows he already knows the news, the full news, but she's wanted to say these words for so long, that she will NOT be cheated out of the joy of saying them. "I am carrying your son."

Michael looks into her eyes, and there is joy. It’s a golden light shining through the dark. He smiles, taking her hand and kissing it, then bringing her to her feet and embracing her. “We’re having a baby, my only. Our son.” 

“That’s nice and all,” Abbadon says callously. “But my life is on the line here.”

Summer pulls away and turns to him, her face firm. “And I am carrying your son as well... who is an heir of Satan and a royal child, and who will be raised with the love and care that my husband's son will receive. As for your life? I can't speak to that."

“Mikey,” he immediately turns away from her. “Come on, I’m having a son! You can’t just kill me like that, can you?” 

“It was quite easy for you to just kill me.” ...

He is half of you. Summer touches her temple gently as the sensation fills her, the sensation of being spoken to by a power higher than she is. But she doesn't say anything. This is Michael's call... no matter how badly Summer wishes he would have Abbadon executed. Wait... or does she? 

Michael would recognize the voice far more easily and quickly than his wife when it says, simply: He is your brother.

He killed me and raped my wife. How can I be expected to abide that, Father? What he has done is treason. How can you say that after he murdered your anointed king? Abused the prophesied mother of my children? I don’t understand. Open my eyes.

His silence makes it clear that they will need to commune more... extensively... for this to be made plain to Michael. Summer takes his hand, sending him the signal, you don't have to decide right now.

He nods, standing and looking to the guards, “Take Prince Abbadon back to his home. We’ll call again once a final decision has been made.” The guards lead Abbadon towards the door. 

“You can’t kill me, Mikey. You know you can’t!”

@theuncrowneddestroyer @thecrownedbeast

Michael

Once they’ve celebrated, in their own way, Summer lays down on the chaise in his office to rest. Michael makes sure she’s asleep comfortably, and then his ritual room calls to him.

Michael kisses her forehead before walking down the stairs towards the basement where his ritual room resides. It's a room entirely sealed by concrete and lead with no door. The only way in is transmutation. 

Once inside, he takes a deep breath and removes his clothes, getting on his hands and knees, splaying his fingers out over the pentagram in the obsidian floor in a sign of reverence. He retrieves the dagger beside him and drags the razor edge up his forearm, letting the crimson flood pour to the ground. 

"Rise from the void, Father..." he grunts through the pain, "Grant me wisdom and eyes to see thy will and strength to follow it..."

A darkness comes to the room, deep and pervasive, one that would be horrifying to anyone but the son who seems comfort in it's embrace. There is a long silence, the presence preparing itself to "speak." 

He is your brother. He is my son.

“And what of my kingdom? This will not be the last time he attempts something like this. How can I allow the New World to be thrown into such chaos?” He keeps himself steady, reverent, “His crimes against me and my wife cannot go unpunished, Father.”

He is needed to populate the world with the next generation of my heirs.

Michael ponders this. That makes far more sense to him than keeping him alive for sentiment only. He pities the poor woman who must be the mother of his children. Then he remembers Summer...but that was a consequence of his absence. Nothing more. 

“Yes, Father. I understand,” he furrows his brow, the next words difficult to say, “He will not be executed.”

In my wisdom and authority I have chosen the Mother of the New World, and the mother of my heirs.

The words fall on his ears, but they are like static at first, buzzing incomprehensible noise that only becomes clear after he repeats them over and over again in his mind. Even then, they are astounding. 

Summer is the Mother of the New World... 

No, no, no, no, no... 

"Father, you can't mean... please, I beg you..."

In exchange...

"Father, please..." He places his forehead on the ground, nearly prostrating himself.

...I will grant her immortality. To live with you for eternity, by your side, as your queen. You will never have to see her grow old and die. You will never lose her. She will be yours, forever.

He looks up, tears in his eyes, "In exchange for his life?" Somehow he knows that's not the only condition.

In exchange for the lives they will give the world.

It's a nightmare. It's not real. It can't be. His Father couldn't... He's going to force him to choose between a mortal lifetime of love and comfort or an eternity of suffering for his wife. His beloved. His best friend. The girl he walked in the garden with and watched movies with on her couch. The one he's been trying to protect from Abbadon for all these years. 

She is the Mother of the New World. 

It's obvious that Satan plans on raising her to a near demigod-like status. She will be far more than just a ruler for her lifetime, to be remembered fondly for a few years after her death and then forgotten by all but schoolchildren. She will be the Eternal Queen. She will be the Eternal Mother. She will always be young and beautiful, intelligent and fertile. She will always be witty and elegant and wise. 

And Michael will never be unloved.

It would only prove fruitless and stupid to try and run away from his Father's will. He is his Father's will. It is his duty to enforce it. He has to trust that she will find happiness still. That they will still be happy. That the New World will thrive.

He bows again, closing his eyes, "Thy will be done, Father."

Michael's wounds slowly close, the obsidian floor drinking in his blood until there isn't a drop left. 

Your son will be blessed. 

With that, the darkness withdraws.

Summer

My child. 

Summer stirs a little in her sleep, her eyes moving back and forth. 

You are the Mother of my world. 

She's standing in an empty stone room, with candles lining the edge. It looks... feels... like a ritual room. 

"Yes, my lord." 

My sons are each half of you, they and their children making up the whole of who you are. 

"I am married to your eldest son. My liaison with your youngest was an accident. A fluke." 

Without it, you would not have his son, who will bring you great joy. 

She considers this, caressing her stomach. 

All of his children will bring you great joy. 

Summer looks up, alarmed. “There will be more?" 

He and his children will make up half of who you are, for all eternity. 

She staggers backwards, shaking her head. "My lord... please...” 

I chose you for this before you even came into the Old World. This is your destiny. I have two sons who will live forever. You, too, will live forever, and the three of you will populate the New World with my heirs, who will rule unchallenged in far-reaching places and continents. An heir of Satan, birthed by the Mother of the New World, on every throne overseeing humanity's new rise in my power.

She is silent. Well, it all makes perfect sense when he says it like that. When you look at it from a bird's eye view, looking far into the future, it makes perfect sense. They don't have to worry about Abbadon giving heirs to every whore who comes to his penthouse, heirs of Satan born with diseases and flaws, maybe even ones that won't even follow Satanism to begin with. All of the heirs will be blessed, and healthy, and destined to rule forever. 

But... to get Abbadon's heirs... she has to... 

Summer starts to cry, both in her dream and in the real world. "I am yours to command, my lord," she says, bowing her head. 

Your children will be blessed, and I will protect you. 

She opens her eyes.

Abbadon

Abbadon paces his balcony with a cigarette in his hand as always, trying to think of a way he can get out of this. Michael probably won't execute him... ...maybe.  But he also might keep him under house arrest until the day he dies and god he can't stay cooped up here any longer. There has to be something to get him a little more freedom...

Suddenly the cigarette falls out of his fingers and onto the marble of his balcony, followed swiftly by his knees as Satan floods his mind with a deep, swallowing darkness he's only felt before a few times in his life. 

My son.

Not being as used to the presence as Michael, Abbadon trembles, every fear synapse in his brain firing. "F-F-Father..."

You tried to kill my son.

"Yes..." he tries to think through the primal, bone-chilling terror, "I wanted the throne, Father." He can't come up with any justification in this moment.

It is natural. You are you. You are who they need. You are who she needs.

"What? What do you mean?"

I have selected her for a specific purpose: to populate the world with my heirs. Your children will be rulers of the New World, as will his, and she will be the mother of them all. You will give her your seed, and she will be half yours.

The shock temporarily drags him out of his fear, a scoff exiting his throat. “No fucking way...” He believes him, and he’s thrilled, but it’s astonishing.

You are called to a higher purpose than whores and toys, Son. I will not have the seed of my heirs squandered on the wombs of the unworthy. 

He pauses, letting this sink in. After months of wondering whether he will live or die, his father confirms it. 

Your brother cannot kill you. He knows it is not my will for you to die, but to live, and take the Queen for yourself as much as necessary to produce your heirs.

His eyes gleam with that same wickedness that made him strangle Summer in the pool all those years ago. “And this is...forever? Will I and her live forever like Michael?”

The three of you will rule the world together, in this way, for eternity.

The three of you.  He... rules the world. Abbadon mouth splits into an evil grin. “Thy will be done, Father.”

Abbadon, his father snaps, with a pay attention to what I'm about to tell you tone.

He pouts, but stays silent to listen.

You are the Prince of the New World. They are the King and Queen. Do what you must to provide her with heirs; you are you, and you will do your part for the New World. But your brother is King.

It's a little blow to his ego, but he still has something to hold onto. He can have so much fun with this... and of course, his life has been not only spared... but immortalized. "Yes, Father."

Your heirs will be blessed.

With that, the dark withdraws, and Abbadon comes to on his knees, the cigarette still burning in front of him.

[theyearoftheking]

Book Forty-Nine: Black House

“Here is a true American loner, an internal vagrant, a creature of shabby rooms and cheap diners, of aimless journeys resentfully taken, a collector of wounds and injuries lovingly fingered and refingered. Here is a spy with no cause higher than himself.” 

After almost fifty books, The Talisman still stands at the top of the leader board as my favorite Steve book. It’s richly layered, full of memorable characters and horrible villains, with a satisfying conclusion. It’s the type of book fantasy and horror lovers alike are eager to escape into. 

It’s sometimes hard to embrace the sequel to a book you love so much... I mean, I can be bought, but my criteria are stringent:

Consider setting the book in Wisconsin... perhaps the beautiful, sad, remote, desolate western part of the state right along the Mississippi river.

Maybe a Dahmer reference? 

Scratch that. Instead, go with an old-school serial killer no one really talks about anymore. How about... Albert Fish? He’s pretty gross. 

On second thought, reconsider a Dahmer reference. Maybe an evil spirit that links Dahmer and Fish together? 

TONS of Dark Tower references. 

If Steve and Pete were to consider writing a follow up to The Talisman with all these elements, I might consider reading it. 

Spoiler! 

Dark House contains all this goodness, and more. 

It’s so fucking dark, y’all. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to drive past a long-term care facility and NOT think about an old man inside wanting to eat the buttocks of small children.

Oh hey, trigger warnings for cannibalism, and violence against children. 

So, Dark House is set in fictional Coulee County, Wisconsin (not a place). But Steve and Pete (I need to start giving Peter Straub some shout outs as well) describe the western part of the state magnificently. Not too long ago I had a sales job that required me to travel the entire state, and I always loved my jaunts west. I’d park right along the Mississippi, eat my lunch and just soak up the isolation. I’d much rather make the drive to Pierce county than the Quad Cities, which my current employer is asking of me. *Silent scream for help*

Despite Coulee being fictional, the actual Wisconsin references are thick:

De Pere (where we recently found out Steve spent a few formative years)

The Brewers 

Miller Park 

Kingsland Ale- while fictional, it’s a nod to Wisconsin’s rich brewing history, and favorable climate for microbreweries

Dahmer (several times, actually)

Racine. Y’all. I have no idea what Steve’s obsession is with Racine... it comes up in multiple books. It’s really not that great. Take that from someone who spent a brief period of time working there. Honestly, my favorite thing about Racine is the authentic Thai restaurant right in downtown, Sticky Rice. If you find yourself in Racine, please go check them out... their red devil curry is amaze-balls. 

So, yes... lots of Wisconsin. Also, lots of Dark Tower:

Eye of the King

Crimson King

The Tower

Red roses

Breakers

Little Sisters 

Gunslingers and their weapons

Roland and the ka-tet

Monos! Blaine and Patricia

Chief Breaker Brautigan- who allegedly tells hilarious stories about his escapes. I miss him already. 

I have questions about how Steve convinced Pete to include so many Dark Tower elements into this book...

Steve:  “Pete, bud... I know you might have a different vision for how this book plays out. Buuut what about if we make it part of the Dark Tower universe?”

Pete: Stares for a long minute. “Um, I thought that series was dead in the water. Do we really need to use Dark House to resuscitate it?” 

Steve: “Remember the car accident? You know, the one that almost took my leg?” 

Pete *Oh fuck, he’s bringing up the car accident as a bid for sympathy, and to convince me to make this a Dark Tower book...* “Of course I remember!”

Steve: “Well, it shook some things loose. I’m about ready to finish the series. I just thought it might be fun if we make this book a lead-up to the finale” 

Pete: “It’s intriguing, but I’m not really sure it’s the direction I want to go in. I was thinking more-”

Steve: “I ALMOST DIED IN THAT ACCIDENT!” 

Pete: “Cool, Dark Tower book it is!” 

I should write fan fiction. I’ve obviously got a gift. 

Black House is told from a birds-eye narration view. Literally... there’s this fat, evil crow named Gorg flying all over town, giving us the lay of Coulee County. Bad stuff has been going on: little children have gone missing, and only a few of their bodies have turned back up mutilated and broken. 

The chief of police, Dale Gilbertson, knows he’s in over his head, and keeps trying to convince his pal, retired police detective, Jack “Hollywood” Sawyer to come consult on the case.

Jack isn’t having it. He retired young and moved to Coulee County from Los Angeles after tracking down and arresting serial killer Thorny Kinderling. The majestic beauty of western Wisconsin caught him by surprise, and he happily invested in reasonably priced (read: cheap) real estate with a view. 

Upon moving to Wisconsin, Jack befriended Dale’s blind uncle Henry Leydon; who voices several radio programs, including The Wisconsin Rat, which plays indy screamo bands and has plenty of shock-jock antics. The two hang out together, listen to jazz music, and sometimes Jack reads to Henry. Henry was able to use his elevated senses to study Jack’s speech pattern and figure out Jack’s mom was THE Lily Cavanaugh; the Queen of the B’s. 

While Jack and Henry are reading Bleak House, Charles “Burny” Burnside is wandering around the Maxton Elder Care Facility, pretending to have dementia, and dragging children into The Territories for Lord Malshun to either use as Breakers, or for Burny to snack on if they have no Breaking skills. So, Burny’s a bad dude who did some suspicious things in Chicago; but an evil spirit (the same one who invaded Albert Fish and Jeffrey Dahmer’s bodies) is what’s causing his kidnapping and cannibalistic urges. I know I say this every ten books or so, but Burny might be the worst King villain ever. I was not upset later on when his intestines were violently ripped from his body.

A sweet little boy (with strong Breaker powers) named Tyler Marshall goes missing outside the Maxton Elder Care Facility. While he was being pulled into the bushes by Gorg who kept repeating his name; his mother, Judy receives a taunting package and letter from The Fisherman, which sends her over the brink, and she’s institutionalized. 

Tyler’s disappearance really amps up the town outrage, and Jack agrees to help the police department out. He’s starting to suspect there’s some Territories nonsense going down, and he can help. 

From here, the book goes at break-neck pace and includes everything from micro-brewing bikers, a dog bite that causes one to dissolve into a foamy puddle on the couch, our old friend Speedy Parker showing up as a gunslinger, the world’s most annoying newspaper reporter, plenty of flipping between worlds via the creepy old black house hidden in the woods, and a happy(ish) ending. Honestly, there’s a warning at the end of the book, which allows you to choose your own ending. You can stop reading five pages before the end, and enjoy a happy ending where the good guys win; or you can get the real world ending. Both are satisfying... I recommend reading all the way to the end. 

So, just a few quotes for you... 

“Wolf died of a disease called America.” 

This line gutted me. I didn’t realize how much I loved Wolf as a character, until I had to read a follow-up that didn’t include him. His soul was too clean and beautiful for a fucked-up world like the one we currently live in. 

“He doesn’t like the cell phone to begin with- twenty-first-century slave bracelets, he thinks them...”

No explanation needed. 

“Why must life always demand so much and give so little? Parkus answers her question with a single word: ka.” 

Again, no explanation needed. 

Was this book as good as The Talisman? 

No. 

Did I want more? 

Absolutely.

But was I satisfied with the end?

You bet your (un-chomped on) ass.

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 33

Total Dark Tower References: 50

Book Grade: A-

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Wizard and Glass: A+

Needful Things: A+

On Writing: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Hearts in Atlantis: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Bag of Bones: A-

Black House: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B

Storm of the Century: B-

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Desperation: C-

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Christine: D

Dreamcatcher: D

The Regulators: D

The Tommyknockers: D-

Now I move onto From a Buick Eight. I’ve had an advanced reading copy since the book came out, but never had the urge to actually read it. That should tell you everything you need to know about my level of enthusiasm right now. I’m hoping it’s not a Christine 2.0. 

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights, Rebecca