#But within the first 5 to 10 seconds it's just obvious that it's one of their songs

[elliedafish]

AJR has such a specific vibe to all of their song intro where you just know it's them.

[waterfae]

A Good Pillow [Part 4]

Summary: A glimpse of your budding friendship with Ominis and your growing feelings after the events in the Scriptorium.

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x Reader, Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mild language, angst, comfort, fluff, friends-to-lovers, unhinged Slytherins, complicated relationships, house-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, no beta

Word Count: 2.7+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

|| General Masterlist || Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist ||

The dormitory was still empty by the time you arrived, which you had hoped would be the case when you entered the common room and noticed the majority of your roommates still gathered near the fireplace. You hurriedly ascended the steps that lead to your room and closed the door behind you, thankful for the solitude. Leaning against the frame, you let out a breath – unaware, until that very second, you were even holding it – and slowly brought a finger to your lips, grazing the spot where Ominis’s own had been. You could still feel the warmth and it made you absolutely giddy! Excited by the memory, you made a running start towards your bed and hurled your body onto it, landing face first into a pillow as you let out a squeal.

He kissed you.

Ominis Gaunt kissed you.

The thought made you suddenly lift your head from its cushion and push the rest of your body up from the bed, onto your knees. Your eyes went wide with recognition: it was your first kiss. You had never been kissed before and Ominis, of all people, had just given you your first one; you couldn’t think of any other wizard in the entire world you would have wanted to share this moment with. Over and over again, the idea of it churned in your brain. It filled you to the brim, leaving room for nothing else but him; his permeating scent, the heat of his breath, the sweetness of his lips as it repeatedly brushed against yours, his gentle caresses, anything and everything Ominis, all the way to when he walked you to the entrance of your house.

“Just one more.” He whispered as he tilted your chin up towards him, “What I should have done the last time we were in this very spot.” He added with a coy smile before pressing his lips against yours for the second time that evening.

Your hands reached for the pillow and brought it towards you before burying your face into it once more and letting out another squeal. It was so difficult for you to contain now; a dam had burst and all the feelings you had tried so hard to keep within came flooding through – all the pining and agonizing over whether or not to reveal your innermost desires, relishing in his touches in, what you thought were, secret. All the while, he had been experiencing the same struggles within himself.

As you stared up at the ceiling, everything – all your thoughts and emotions, your fantasies, all the memories leading up to this – seemed to blend and swirl within the vortex of your mind; it kept you up well into the late hours of the night. You weren’t sure when you finally fell asleep, only that when you did, you were gripping onto your pillow and holding it against your body imagining that it was still Ominis in your arms.

Potions was your first class the following morning and you had barely passed through the threshold of the classroom when you caught Imelda’s eye, as if she had been waiting specifically for you to make an entrance. Oddly enough, you had an inkling that she wasn’t the only one; she just happened to be the most obvious about it. Had you missed something? Did the previous night’s musings somehow render you oblivious to something more important? An essay? A test? Something else entirely? They couldn’t possibly know already, could they? You wondered. Immediately, you noticed her make a beeline towards your usual work station as you cautiously settled into your seat.

“Well, if it isn’t our main character.” Imelda said with a smirk, maneuvering swiftly in a way that had her sitting upon your table top and looking down at you.

You had to tilt your head up in order to shoot her a questioning glance. “Not even a good morning, Imelda? What’s all this about?”

“You mean you haven’t heard?” Imelda glimpsed around the classroom slightly impressed before she leaned down towards you and replied with a smug grin, “Gaunt cornered Sallow in the Slytherin common room last night and all hell broke loose; fists were thrown...spells were cast...prefects eventually had to intervene...even Professor Ronen was summoned.” You were left speechless at her revelation; this was the furthest thing you were expecting, “Apparently, the topic of discussion had been you.” She paused and pulled back, straightening herself to prepare for your next reaction, “I heard Sallow swung first.”

“W-What?!” You said with a gasp. The information left your mouth agape as you processed her words: Sebastian and Ominis had gotten into a physical altercation...because of you? You couldn’t think it to be possible; there had to be more to it than just that. You sat there, frozen in horror at the thought that not only had the two boys fought, but that Sebastian had the capability to throw a fist at his own best friend – a blind one at that. Not that you ever pictured Ominis to be helpless; you were sure he was fully capable of defending himself if need be. But the principle of it all! You thought, completely disregarding the fact that Sebastian Sallow had at one point ‘crucio’ed your arse.

“I had just come back from a flying session, so didn’t actually see the entirety of it. Just the tail-end.” Imelda took that time to beckon another Slytherin girl, “But McDowell was there last night.” She placed her attention onto the girl who had made her way over, “Weren’t you, Violet?”

“If you’re referring to last night’s incident, then yes, I was; a good number of us were there.” She settled in between the two of you and leaned against the table, “Quite the spectacle.” She examined you with a cheeky grin, “For someone who isn’t even a Slytherin, you sure do surround yourself with us lot.”

“We’re excellent company.”

Violet laughed at Imelda’s remark and looked up at her, “What would you like to know?”

“Everything.”

She let out a little snicker, “Well, I’m not sure if I can tell you everything, but...I did hear Ominis start by telling Sebastian he should treat his friends better. Honestly, I thought he was referring to himself. Jealous, y’know, that Sebastian was off spending more time with other students.” Violet regarded you as she said this, “But when Sebastian said it wasn’t any of his business, Ominis claimed that since you were his friend too, it was his business. Realized then that he wasn’t talking about himself at all.”

“You must be so proud of yourself. Having those two boys fighting over you.”

“Shut up, Imelda.” You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks at her comment, imagining how her response might have differed had she known what already transpired between you and Ominis, “About me. Not over me.”

Violet rolled her eyes and continued, “They were hush-hush after that – whispering in the corner – didn’t hear a peep out of them for a while and thought maybe that was it, until –” She paused for effect, “Ominis called Sebastian a liar, manipulative, and uncaring.”

Imelda oooh’d and leaned forward to listen more intently; you did as well, more distressed than anything else. Violet grew animated, encouraged by both of your reactions.

“Obviously irritated him, that did. Said it was untrue and that he cared a lot. ‘Only about one thing!’ That was Ominis. He went on to mention his sister, how he didn’t know when to stop – whatever he meant by that – and that he hated seeing you hurt because of him.” Violet gestured towards you with a mocked pout, “That’s when Sebastian grabbed him by the lapels.” Your eyes widened in shock, Imelda’s too, as Violet imitated him by taking two fistfuls of your cloak.

“Merlin’s beard, Violet!” You untangled yourself from her and swatted her arms away, “People are watching.” You motioned to your other classmates, some of whom had begun to listen in for the first time while others, who had already heard the story, listened again simply to compare another point-of-view to the gossip heard earlier that morning.

“And do you know what he does?” She carried on with a laugh, ignoring your warning, “That Ominis Gaunt – I’m telling you –” She sounded wickedly fascinated at this point, “Bold man...tells Sebastian to go head and hit him.”

“He did not.” A disbelieving voice suddenly called. It was Samantha Dale, unable to keep to herself any longer and engrossed by Violet’s retelling of events, “He wouldn’t. Ominis couldn’t possibly fight Sebastian. That’s his friend. Also...he’s blind!”

“He did though.” Another Slytherin, Priscilla, decided to pipe up, “It’s true, he really did say it. I was there as well.”

Samantha’s jaw dropped, “So that’s when he hit him then?”

Violet shook her head, “Not at first. Sebastian actually just...laughed it off. Said he wasn’t about to hit a blind man. He even let him go.” She paused and made an expression that read as though she were trying to make sense of a puzzle with missing pieces, “I didn’t hear anything, but...Ominis must have said something.” She looked over at Priscilla quizzically, who in turn merely shrugged, also unaware of what might have been said between the two; none of the Slytherins there that night seemed to know – a commonality in all their recounts, “Because that was when he took a swing at him.”

Only a few people gasped, but it was clear that everyone was more concerned with one very specific thing: what did Ominis say to trigger such a reaction out of Sebastian?

Imelda chimed in, noting that it was at this point she had entered the common room and the scene before her could only be described as, “Chaos. Absolute chaos.”

Violet, who was undeniably having far too much fun gossip mongering, commenced excitedly, “Both of them were really squabbling after that and everyone else had gone mad; people screaming and shoving, trying to get away, trying to break it up, trying to egg them on...” She kept a tally by using her fingers to make each point, “I saw Sebastian get one more hit in before Ominis used ‘depulso’ to send him across the common room.” A greater number of people gasped this time, more shocked it seemed by Ominis’s retaliation than the initial blow he had received, “All the prefects started showing up then. Professor Ronen too not long after. Sent everyone back to their dorms.” She let out a sigh, signaling the end, “Took off twenty points each and gave them a week’s worth of detention.”

“Teen. Aged. Imbeciles.” Imelda remarked with a shake of her head and hopped off the table, landing next to you.

You didn’t even notice, still processing the entire tale. That evening had already been a particularly eventful one having infiltrated a goblin-filled mine and your own personal conflict with Sebastian. You were so lost in elation after your time spent with Ominis, you hadn’t stopped to even consider that he would be the one unavoidably going back to the troubled young man. You somehow felt guilty for both of them and it saddened you that Ominis’s night had not concluded as blissfully as yours.

Imelda suddenly nudged you with her elbow, breaking you from your thoughts, and nodded towards the door, “Speak of the devils.” She and Violet then scurried back to their work stations as your attention turned to where she had directed and found the two Slytherin boys making their way to their respective seats.

“Good morning.” Ominis said softly as he neared you, his hand gingerly brushing against the small of your back as he passed.

You shifted your gaze to take in his entirety and noticed a split lip and some bruising around his cheek, an attestation that he had, in fact, been involved in some kind of scuffle. You stood up and, without much thought, brought your hand up gently to his face. He winced slightly when you swept your fingers over his injuries.

“You’re hurt.”

“Don’t fret, darling.” A blush rose to your cheeks; he’d called you that before, but it felt different now, “Just minor injuries.” He reached up and took your hand in his, leaning into it for a moment before placing it back down to your side.

You peered at him skeptically, which he seemed to have sensed because he soon added, “I assure you, it’s not as bad as it seems...despite whatever stories you may have heard.”

Violet, who was seated at the station across from yours, let out a snort and smiled, feigning innocence, as if to say ‘I don’t know what he’s talking about.’

Professor Sharp emerged from his office then and greeted the class. You pried no further and allowed Ominis to claim his seat at the next table over, across from Imelda. You took your seat as well once the professor began his lecture, but not before stealing a glance at Sebastian, who didn’t seem to have any visible signs of injury. He was staring at you, expression unreadable, and you wondered what might be going through his head...if he was even sorry. With a sigh, you set your focus to the front of the class.

Class ended once every student finished brewing their Droughts of Peace, though not many were able to achieve the silver vapor that was meant to emit from their cauldrons. Garreth managed to set both his and Natty’s robes alight, Ominis caused Imelda to gag and vacate as a strong sulfuric odor emitted from his, and Violet’s began to produce green sparks.

You had every intention to follow up with Ominis once you cleaned up your area, perhaps even suggest to have lunch together in the Transfiguration courtyard; it would give ample opportunity to discuss the array of topics currently plaguing your thoughts. With your bag over your shoulder, you headed in his direction, but were quickly intercepted by Sebastian, causing you to stumble backwards.

“What on earth –?” You never got to finish as you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist and promptly pulled you out of the classroom behind him. You struggled at first, calling out his name as you attempted to break free, but he ignored your protests. You only ceased when you caught sight of the discoloration on his knuckles; curiosity had too much of a hold on you by then.

“Did you tell him?” He eventually asked as he came to a halt in the middle of a less crowded corridor. He didn’t bother to look at you.

“I beg your pardon.”

“Ominis. Did you tell him anything?”

You stood before him, letting his question sink in and suddenly the guilt you had felt earlier left your body and the irritation from the previous night seeped back through in its place. Of all the things, that was what he was worried about? You roughly pulled your arm back from his grip and this time he let go. “Wonderful. So on top of being ignorant, I’m also traitorous.” You let out a dry laugh before giving a more appropriate response, “No. I haven’t told him anything.”

Distraught, he ran his fingers through his hair, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Did you really have to hit him?” The question flew from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He turned to face you now, disapproval apparent on his features, “Are you siding with him?”

You huffed, “I’m just trying to understand what happened, Sebastian.”

“He was being disrespectful.” You knitted your brows together, distrustful of his claim. “Talking about things he clearly doesn’t understand. You. Me. Our friendship. Anne!”

“And you thought giving him a good wallop was the best solution?” You rubbed your temples, “What did he even say?”

Silence. As you waited for an answer, you could tell he was thinking of how to give you one, face scrunched up in consternation. More time passed and he still hadn't given anything. He appeared to genuinely be struggling and for a split second, you almost pitied him. Almost. You wished he would have a proper conversation with you, something you doubted would happen anytime soon. The thought crossed your mind that perhaps he just wasn’t ready yet, especially with everyone’s emotions still running on high. You decided to not push any further than he was willing.

“Forget it.” Despondent and exhausted, you started your way down the corridor, “Send me an owl once you’ve gotten your head out of your arse.”

A week later, Sebastian sent you that owl.

a/n: Previous chapter was going to be the final one after the first extension, but then a reader hoped for it to continue and I too got curious about where and how far this story could go. So here we are! Thank you for your continued readership. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡

[moonbaby26]

Title: Past Wounds

(Chapter 12 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, violence, toxic relationship, binge drinking, mommy issues, brief references to past trauma and survival from past sexual assault including when characters were previously underage, talk of virginity loss, intentions to sabotage birth control, breeding kink, murder (not main characters)

Chapter Synopsis: As you and Doflamingo open up to one another, you find even more in common in the traumas of your pasts. While he still plans for the future, intending to never have you truly leave him or your new kingdom of Dressrosa again.

Author’s notes: As evidenced by chapter warnings above, there are a lot of potential triggers in this chapter. Nothing is overly gratuitous in my opinion. But still, fair warning. I always let the characters run the show for what they’ll say/do next and this was the result. More notes are at the end of the chapter as well including some insight into future plans for this story. 😄

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13

——————————

—————————— 

As Doflamingo had recounted to you those bits and pieces of his time spent with Tsuru as a boy, of course you’d sat in silence, listening intently. But even with the seemingly unflattering details he did allow, you felt like that curtain between you and his past was only being pulled back just enough to tease towards the bigger mystery. 

Like a single flash of lightning across a dark and unfamiliar room. The parts he did tell would only let you make out some hints of shapes, pieces of him you’d never known. Before everything was plunged into darkness once more. 

But telling you even this much did stir deeper things within that darkness for him at least. That was obvious in his many pauses as he spoke, and by just how quickly the wine disappeared the further his story went on. 

He’d finished the first bottle in his hand before his strings had brought the second bottle to him and into the bed as well.

But regardless of his height, and the additional body mass that offered him, you started to realize even warlords had a limit. It was still too much, too fast for his body to put it away safely.

And he was self medicating. Wasn’t he?

“Doffy,” you did say in test after he’d quieted for a few more minutes.

He wasn’t smiling any longer, and his eyes didn’t move from you. “She left me there.”

And something warned you then. It was in the way his shoulders sank, but his muscles didn’t relax. 

He didn’t want logic or reasoning right now. He didn’t want you to say that Tsuru had had no real choice but to desert him. 

And desertion was absolutely how he saw it. That sentiment made further clear in the dangerous irritation which rose in his next words.

“But Rosi was good enough. You white coats took him from me as soon as you fucking could…and wasn’t he too young? He was younger than me! So why? Why was he better…no, he wasn’t.”

It did take you a moment to even realize who Doflamingo meant, even as you began growing more nervous as he seemingly argued with himself as much as anything.

Was he talking about Rosinante?

Codename Corazon was what you’d actually known him as. Tsuru had sometimes called him Rosinante though. Which that bit of familiarity finally made more sense if only tonight.

Because she’d met both brothers before they’d ever become criminals.

But you still weren’t following this new turn. How had the marines taken Doflamingo’s brother? Corazon had been killed a few years ago. All over a stupid devil fruit sale gone bad as far as you knew. The Donquixote family versus the Barrels pirates at Minion Island.

You’d been there that night as well, on Tsuru’s crew to pick up the pieces afterward. You’d seen the bird cage just before it came down…and the bodies that’d been left in the aftermath.

But this new confusion in your eyes only had Doflamingo leaning forward aggressively. You could see the added flush in his cheeks from all that wine as he closed in on you.

And for the briefest moment you’d envisioned one of those now empty wine bottles being smashed open against your face. 

Because you somehow knew that he had considered it.

But then those same bottles only rolled aside with his movement within the bed. His words were slightly slurred the faster he tried to force them out.

The more he tried to make you understand that pain that no alcohol could ever quench.

“They turned my own baby brother against me….he hated me.” 

The warlord’s lips were the only thing that met your face this time though. Not a fist, or the bottles, even as that kiss still held so much anger from within.

Doflamingo’s hand was tight on the back of your neck so quickly too, forcing you to him as his tongue and that secondhand taste of alcohol filled your mouth.

He was actually drunk tonight. And it was your job once more to prevent yourself from being further hurt.

“Doffy,” You said more insistently again, briefly breaking your mouths apart.

Yet you weren’t bleeding like before. So this allowed you at least a chance to try softness first. Even if it wasn’t organic at all. Even if every move you made was now purposeful as you brought your hands up to stroke his face before your mouths could reconnect.

His left eye did close at that sudden touch, his lips still parted as the bright red iris of the right eye focused on you cautiously.

“You’re okay.” You found yourself saying regardless as you petted this dangerous creature.

His muscles were still so tight, his breath a bit uneven as you stroked along those high cheekbones and up into that short blond hair.

But there was the slightest hope for you in the way he’d started to press his face into that touch after a few more moments. He didn’t want you to stop.

It wasn’t over yet though. It’d never be, when suddenly he’d next pushed his full weight against you. You were forced onto your back on the mattress. This behavior already seeming to follow the pattern of so many times before as your core couldn’t help but immediately tense, fearing penetration.

Yet he didn’t straddle you this time. His legs curled up instead, allowing him the room to lay down. Your head now by the foot of the bed, and both your and his feet nearer the headboard as he laid his face across your naked breasts.

In your surprise, his hand also caught your wrist, pulling your own palm back to the side of his cheek as he bid you to keep petting him again in this new position.

And so of course you did. Having to breathe a little more forcefully with his weight on you then. But it wasn’t that painful. You weren’t being fucked this time at least as you watched the ceiling while stroking his jaw before your fingers moved back into his hairline as you massaged his scalp lightly.

You weren’t stupid. The parallels were all far more obvious now. His biological mother had died early on in his life. And in his own mind at least, he’d reclaimed some semblance of that motherly bond when he’d met Tsuru. But then she’d left him too, and his father had died, and his brother eventually too. Those full details still unclear in his odd behavior surrounding their two names.

But no matter the hows or whys, he had lost one family member after another. It was hit after hit on an already troubled psyche to further grow that void inside of him wasn’t it?

And needy boys soon became needy men. 

So he was burying all that desperation in you now, no question there. And before you, whoever else he could get his claws into you were sure. But for your own sanity, you would have to believe that everything he felt for Tsuru was still more from the boy within and not the hedonistic man that’d now torn through your body multiple times.

She’d have washed him into pieces if he’d ever tried anything inappropriate with her you were sure.

But with you? Those lines were already long gone. Clearly they were as he kept his face warm against your chest. Like it truly were an innocent refuge for him in this moment, but at the very same time you felt his already half hard cock rubbing against your legs.

He didn’t do anything more with that arousal right now at least. But his confused body didn’t seem to know the difference between affection and sex either.

Sex was affection to him. It was comfort. And evidently he sometimes wanted to be mothered by you as well, just as much as he wanted to always keep fucking you.

But the most immediate danger was again passing as you continued to give him what he wanted. You felt his muscles finally relaxing. All while you petted him more like something pitiful that had to be taken care of, rather than a true lover or equal partner in this instance at least.

Psychologists could fill entire books on a case study like Doflamingo you were sure.

And he wasn’t even done yet.

“Don’t leave me too.”

You heard those new drunken words break the silence. But you feared truly acknowledging them and possibly setting him off again as you just kept holding him. You stroked his face and down his neck to keep him calm.

Your heart rate was increasing regardless though as his arms tightened around your waist in return. His possessive body language was beginning all over again. But he said only one more heavy thing before closing both of his eyes.

“….don’t make me do it again. Don’t make me erase another light like you.”

——————————

That night felt endless. He had fallen asleep against your chest. So you’d been spared whatever sexual play he’d threatened from earlier, before he’d first started that story and gotten far too much into the wine.

But in exchange, you were left with a restless, fitful animal. Even though he was deeply asleep, you still felt him tensing and moving so many times during the night.

Sweat would form on his brow as his hands would clench. Sometimes with those fingers against your hips, or your arms, stomach, or elsewhere as he shifted around.

He was having nightmares.

And you couldn’t hope to sleep, your own body on high alert, waiting for strings to come out of his fingertips, waiting for pain if he forgot even for a moment where he really was.

Yet when he’d start moving again like that, you’d whisper his name and start stroking his head and neck once more. 

His grimace would fade, and he’d start to still again.

It was exhausting. Like fighting a fire all alone the entire night. Fighting it, and protecting him when your own body and mind wanted so badly to give up as well.

And at some point you did. You didn’t have any endurance left when consciousness finally slipped away. But you’d already seen the sunlight through those portholes again when it did.

——————————

His head was aching. But warm fingers were caught in his hair. The sound of your heartbeat was against his ear as he tried to focus his good eye into that too bright daylight.

It was fucking morning again already. But he didn’t want to move. Your chest was soft, and your grip was still so welcoming somehow.

How much had he told you last night?

Those dreams had melted into the real words he knew he’d said. But it was hard to remember the difference, where one ended and the other began. 

He’d tried to save himself all those years ago. He’d tried to do the right thing for what was left of his family. 

Because Mariejois would never suffer a traitor. Blood traitors especially. The most grievous crime that could ever be committed against the gods was when one Celestial Dragon turned against another.

Death was the only possible result in such a rare tragedy. But Homing and Rosinante both had still chosen that fate in the end. His own blood had given him no choice but to carry out the only answer they knew would come for their crimes.

They’d chosen your licentious world instead of their heavenly birthright and had to be culled for it. Like diseased branches being cut away to save the larger tree.

And then he’d been fully orphaned, broken wings and all, stuck living alone in that same world in the end. But he was still carving out the best life he could in the circumstances. 

He’d already retaken the Donquixote ancestral lands in Dressrosa. Retaken his heritage in the same castle his ancestors used to rule without mercy from. 

And now he’d secured you, the elusive temptation that had evaded him for far too long beforehand. Of course you were no equal to him. The innate filth of your own blood was still something that could never be overwritten. But the gods were able to claim anything lesser than themselves that they desired. 

So there was nothing improper in his need for you. Nothing he wouldn’t have still been allowed if he’d lived atop the world once more. He could have had as many human wives as he’d wanted. Bred all of them or none of them as he’d seen fit.

There were many half breed children in Mariejois. Most going straight into slavery of course, but not always. Pets were allowed too. They’d never hold the social status of a pureblood, but they could live a fully pampered life if their Celestial parent chose such for them. They could stay in the same home, be lavished and given affection like any other treasured possession.

And all this stress only reminded him of these possibilities time and time again.

He still wanted a replacement family for his that had been destroyed. He wanted you, his human mistress, and his half breed he could soon raise from you. He never wanted to feel as alone as he had in those nightmares ever again.

Doflamingo smirked, your heart beating so steadily beneath him still. That organ beat for only him, it belonged to him already.

But would you ever love him in return? Would you be grateful in the life he could provide for you? Would you understand how lucky you were to find this rare mercy within him at all?

It didn’t matter.

As long as he had what he wanted. As long as he always won and everyone else lost.

That was the natural way of things. And anyone who acted to truly interrupt these eventual outcomes could join Homing and Rosinante in his forgiveness of death. 

He’d actually let you sleep though, as he’d finally untethered himself from your body. His bladder full from all the drinking of last night and his body needing relief as he’d taken the longest piss in the bathroom.

This vacation was finally over. All the meetings and business dealings he’d put off for the last few days to spend that time with you instead was now going to bite back at him in full force.

He knew this as he’d flushed the toilet and looked at himself in the mirror, knowing he needed to get ready to head to his office on board and start making overdue calls. But his mind still lingered in the past, even then.

Because his one intact eye that often reminded him of his mother’s perpetually sad ones reflected back at him tiredly in that mirror. 

But the other eye was somehow sharp as always, even behind that milky white of scar tissue. As if it was watching him instead. The mismatched eye he’d been born with even before that arrow had first pierced it in this world.

The left eye and its larger red iris that used to frighten his peers and reject the sunlight enough that he’d been taught to cover it as far back as he could remember.

His one eye that matched the two of the one true god. The immortal who sat upon the empty throne. A being that he’d seen only once, when he’d brought Homing’s head to them in that last chance offering which was ultimately rejected. A past recipient of the Ope-Ope fruit’s greatest power he had no doubt.

Another ancestor of his perhaps, one whose eye and madness he had inherited. The nineteen original families of Mariejois had interbred for centuries after all.

But Doflamingo just laughed softly to himself, gripping the sink before he turned the water on to wet his hands and begin washing his face.

There was still so much that none of you knew. Information which those who sat on high would do anything to keep from spreading. 

It was yet another reason you’d never be allowed to leave him once they realized how serious he was about you. Because those five old men and the monster they served would assume he’d shared all their secrets. And they’d surely kill you rather than give you any chance to talk if you ever fled from him and lost his protection.

Divorce would never be an option for you. It truly would be until death do you part.

——————————

You rolled over, and something about even being able to do that much was enough to finally wake you again. Because you weren’t trapped under him anymore.

Raising your head, you looked around, groggy and concern quickly growing on your face. Because you didn’t see him anywhere.

And as you’d experienced before, not seeing him was always worse to you. Because then you didn’t know his current mood, or his intentions. You had no sense of the current danger.

Slowly you sat up, bedsheets falling away from your nude form.

The sun was fully in the room. It was obviously later in the day.

There was a tray beside the bed. The same one that dinner had been served on last night. But all that was now gone. 

A new plate was there. It looked like toasted bread. But with crushed tomatoes over it. Some had already been eaten, but there was plenty left.

You rose up carefully, peering into the drink pitcher beside it. Some kind of brightly colored juice was in the pitcher.

It should have been laughable of how cautious you really still were.

How afraid you were to do something as simple as eat when behind enemy lines like this. Pirates had prepared this food. They had readied this drink you had to remind yourself.

But only then did you notice a piece of paper, laid flat with its corner hanging out from under the pitcher on that silver food tray.

And when you slid that paper out, your very first reaction was to immediately be taken aback by the immaculate penmanship.

The only time you’d seen something like this was on decrees direct from Mariejois. It made the hurried writing you were more accustomed to in documented naval transmissions look like something you all had written with your feet by comparison.

Like this was a page fallen out of a book. But it wasn’t as you finally started to read it.

“I must have kept you up last night. That’s what happens when you let me drink too much, Captain. I considered leaving a string man to keep you company, but it would have been too boring just to watch you sleep.

We’ll be in Dressrosa by this afternoon. Clean yourself up and be presentable. Use my snail on the end table to summon anything you may need from the servants. I have work obligations. I wouldn’t recommend wandering the ship alone however. I wouldn’t want you to get your hands dirty again. My travel crew doesn’t have the best manners after all. I’ll come back to you when we’re nearer port.

-D.D.”

And you held that paper for a while afterward, just entranced in the sheer novelty of it. He had truly beautiful handwriting, and he’d taken the time to write it for you.

It was the stupidest thing you’d likely ever felt. But you realized no man had ever written you a personal note for any reason.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” You said to no one but the sleeping snails. And then you did grab one of those pieces of bread off the food tray and took a bite of it in test. 

And it was delicious. Because of course it was. With olive oil and garlic mixed in with some other seasonings you were too uncultured to identify in those crushed tomatoes smeared across it.

With the bread in one hand, you folded that note from Doflamingo gently with your other. 

For some reason you didn’t want to get any food on it. And you didn’t want to throw it away either.

Just like him, it was insidious in how you kept thinking about it now. How you wanted to keep it.

How much you liked it.

——————————

The hours ran by so quickly. Just like he knew they would. He’d been on the phone with nobility from other kingdoms, with Cipher Pol agents, with pirate captains, and warmongers of all kinds. All his customers itching for their next arms, drugs, or random pick of any other contraband shipments that they’d been requesting which his networks were currently brokering for them.

It’d been interesting which clients dared to mention anything about the newspaper articles as well. Not all would, with his Joker identity and his public status as a warlord and king existing as two wholly separate things.

But of course there was one particular call that had everything to do with you. 

Doflamingo had had his feet up on his desk by then, one ankle crossed over the other as he waited while it rang.

That cackling scientist knew better than to ignore a call from him. No matter what he may be working on with Vegapunk currently.

The transponder snail did connect at last. But the voice on the other end sounded far quieter than normal.

“J-Joker?” Came the question.

“Of course.” Doflamingo answered, but asking immediately. “Are you alone?”

“Alone enough. In a supply closet actually…” was the ridiculous answer. 

A response the warlord knew was likely not at all a joke. What an idiot this was. But an extremely useful one. “Well, Caesar, I need to commission you for what should be something far more simple this time. Something I need immediately.”

Tight timelines were nothing new. The majority of the current drugs and war worthy poisons that Doflamingo sold all linked back to this growing business relationship with Caesar Clown. 

Caesar and his constant need to prove himself superior to his official government boss, Dr. Vegapunk by any means necessary. Caesar also with his perfect combination of immorality, greed, and spinelessness to be used so well by a man like Doflamingo. 

“Yes, of course, Joker.” The near salivation of what kind of new payday this would mean for him was all too evident.

The gas logia user loved his new patron’s very deep pockets. And Doflamingo was certainly willing to provide, given that the results remained what he fully wanted of course.

“I need a new drug. This won’t be a mass product though. This is going to be for personal use alone.”

There was a noise of interest at that of course. They all knew Doflamingo didn’t normally use his own supply of anything. Normally being the key word however. There were always exceptions.

And he just outright said it now. Because once the Heavenly Demon had made up his mind on something, it’s not like he’d have any further hesitation. “I’m in the market for a family actually. I assume you saw the papers.”

Silence hung for a moment. The cogs spinning no doubt. “Shurororo...” Came the odd, and bit nervous laugh. “I did, and that was a surprise. So bold of you, going after an enlisted woman…the marines must be scrambling.”

“They can waste their time all they want. It’s real.” Doflamingo said decisively. “I’m keeping her. But she may not be fully on the same page with all of that yet. But you know me…results are king. And I want to get down to business. I want a child with her. But I need a way around that standard marine issue contraceptive. I want to override it.”

“Oh my.” Caesar was truly caught off guard, but not for the underhandedness of course. The snail had an outright wicked smile then from the scientist. One that could have rivaled one of Doflamingo’s own. “Has baby fever struck in that oppressively hot country of yours? Though, all dynasties must start somewhere I suppose. So you’ll be wanting at least an heir and a spare then?”

“Just one to start.” Doflamingo corrected, though beginning to grin a bit himself. “Quality over quantity.”

“Of course.” Caesar quickly agreed in that overly subservient way of his, but clearly still so interested. His own sadistic nature was likely highly delighted in it all. “How much modification though? I’m sure you’re aware of the kind of things I’m capable of improving on. Vinsmoke was hardly the only one at the pinnacle of that foray into eugenics. I could design circles around that fool.”

And here was the thing Doflamingo knew he had to be firm on. “Vinsmoke’s wife also ended up dead and his children little more than machines. My blood won’t be wasted in such a bland result. Nor does it need such improvement.” His voice did darken too, letting his seriousness on this point be most known. “No permanent damage to the woman either. If there was, your own death would be something I’d make you pray for, Caesar.”

It was a bit more complicated than just being able to do a clean execution of this scientist if it came down to it of course. Because they had other projects in the works that absolutely needed Caesar. The one still pending with Kaidou chief among them. But there were some things worse than death, and everyone knew Doflamingo could absolutely deliver on a threat like that if pressed.

And Caesar did stutter a little at that. The message was clearly understood. “Y-Yes, Joker. A low risk pregnancy then, of course. But might I recommend at least a little added insurance against common toxins, and a bit of extra hardiness at least?” Poisons being one of Caesar’s specialties of course. “Assuming she will be the last to know of her, ah…condition. Smoking, drinking, all those fun things you know would probably not be well advised, could have countermeasures put in place. And marines do brawl a bit at times, don’t they?”

“Fair point.” He did want you to be the last to possibly know. Because as strong willed as you  were, he had the real concern that you’d try to sabotage things yourself once aware. He couldn’t say for sure, but it was possible. “Is that doable? Just enough to make sure it thrives even if the host decides to disagree?” Doflamingo asked genuinely.

“Oh, very much.” And at that Caesar recounted the specifications as if they were talking about nothing more questionable than a grocery list. “So you aren’t interested in twins or any multiples, just the facilitation of a single ovum being released. And the only modification being what would be required for healthy development in a possible unideal environment…if the mother is still out bar hopping and roughhousing or whatever I imagine marines must all do.”

“She roughhouses enough with me, yes.” Doflamingo conceded with another smile. “But she’s no delicate flower. We both get rather hands on, and into the drink together.”

And Caesar chuckled again. “Shurororo…I can make that work. It’s just canceling out the hormones of the contraceptive and then adding in a few other factors for those modifications…and different hormones to force ovulation too as it sounds like you’re in quite a hurry. Otherwise it’d be a small window each month naturally. I can make a fixed window instead so you know exactly when the timing is right.”

“And no permanent side effects.” Doflamingo reminded. “Or you know what will happen to you.”

“Yes, Joker.” He could hear Caesar swallow even over the snail. “I’m so much better than Vinsmoke though. No need for concern, really. It would likely be nothing more than fatigue and cramping. No worse than their monthly cycles.”

“Then do it. Put it in something clear and tasteless. I’ll have your normal development and rush fees wired over to you by tonight. I want it delivered directly to me.”

——————————

There was no knock on the door. No warning at all as it just swung open. Which of course, it was his cabin. 

But that didn’t mean you didn’t startle all the same. For someone so large not to be heard coming down the hallway, that was bothersome.

That pink mass of feathers moved into the room as the door shut behind him.

Doflamingo stared at you for a moment, or you assumed that he was. It was hard to tell with the sunglasses back over his eyes before he smirked.

“Not a bad sight to have waiting on my bed after a long day.” He murmured, approaching you where you now sat fully dressed on the edge of his mattress.

And he crouched before you could reply to him. Squatted in front of you suddenly when he leaned in for a kiss.

It was a bit rough as his lips met yours, but nothing extreme this time as he smiled afterward, faces still almost touching as his tongue dipped out briefly.

He looked more than satisfied.

“You probably felt us turning, Dressrosa’s on the horizon already. We’re heading for the south port in Acacia.” 

“Alright.” You said plainly. It wasn’t as if there was anything else you could do. You’d cleaned up, dressed, even put makeup on to cover the bruising.

“Let’s change the bandage again.” He said though. “How long are you going to be able to walk for?”

And at least this process you’d done more than once now as you offered him your thigh. “Won’t really know until I try. But you are not carrying me in front of any cameras.”

He actually feigned a bit of a scowl there. Far less intense than his real ones as he started undoing the string wrap again from around your leg. The cords obeyed him so completely, white and soft as it unravelled to the floor. “Oh, but you’re forgetting where you are now, dear. I’m the king of the literal country of love and passion. It’d look very chivalrous on tomorrow’s front page wouldn’t it?”

“It’d make me look weak.” You gave him a real look of distaste in return.

“Then at least damn take something for the pain you stubborn brat.” But he was smirking then. Too happy in this moment finally being here you were sure. He’d brought you home with him at last.

All the advantage was now his as well. You were about to be in his country, with his crew, among his everything. You would have no power here save for whatever his extremely limited mercy allowed and you both knew it.

“I’m not drugging myself up on painkillers when I’m about to be in the same room as Trebol and Diamante.” You said with added certainty there.

Doflamingo’s hands did pause at that in the midst of rewrapping your wounded thigh as he asked, “Why?”

“Why?” And you did look at him there like he had two heads. “You know why!”

Somehow it had always been them. The only Donquixote officers that could ever get close enough to you. Trebol and his stupid snot that you’d gotten your legs caught in before. And Diamante with weapons that rained down like confetti, cutting you through even your haki as he’d grabbed you with his bare hands more than once.

Diamante had been the one that had scared you the most though. Because by all rights he’d really had you that one time. Before your coat had torn at the last moment. Somehow you had slipped right out of it and run for all you were worth, bleeding and with a badly dislocated arm all the way back to Tsuru.

You couldn’t have been more than sixteen then and it had thoroughly shaken you. Even for all the abuse you’d known as a child. All the aggression and beatings you’d had before when you hadn’t submitted like your mother’s bosses had wanted you to. None of that was the same as Diamante had been with you then.

Because you’d seen it in his eyes and felt it in the horrible things he’d said to you as his hands had gone places they should not have. 

Your first real brush with that level of opponent, both in physical strength and his ability to truly get within your head.

Maybe it was idiotic to still be holding onto that, considering the far worse things the man right here in front of you had done since.

But it was still different. Somehow it was. Bleeding, being grabbed and touched by Diamante with your arm almost twisted out of its socket at only sixteen. Versus being jaded and angry, several years older and stronger with a sexual appetite of your own by the time Doflamingo had first pushed himself between your legs in Mariejois.

It wasn’t the same in your mind, right or wrong as Doflamingo still watched you, as he did finish the new bandage.

“You’re still afraid of them?” He asked simply. And you really couldn’t read him well at all then, in his body language or tone.

You looked away from those red sunglasses before you could help it though. Dammit, this was not the right time for this, not minutes before your supposed public debut in Dressrosa.

“You wouldn’t understand.” You replied.

“Try me.” He said as his hands went onto your knees. 

He was still squatted in front of you.

And he must have seen some look on your face, something different there that he wouldn’t let go of.

But you still couldn’t say it. Just like you’d never told anyone the full extent of what Doflamingo had done to you in Mariejois or on Sabaody.

And at last you saw real irritation cut across his expression when he got tired of waiting. “I’m not asking you twice.” His grip on your knees tightened as he spread them a little. Just enough to move his torso between them.

You took a breath, fear edging you back to the present and to him. Fine, you’d just goddamn say it then.

And those words did come running out, just everything at once. It was either all or nothing it seemed when it came to admissions like this. 

“I don’t even remember what town it was. But Trebol got a hold of my feet with that mucus to slow me down. I should never have tried to take them both on by myself. I knew better, but you know how fast things can go sideways in the field. They had me alone and then my boots were in that snot, and I was trying to get out and Diamante was fucking right on top of me. He was hitting me with so much I couldn’t keep my haki up. So I was bleeding and they were trying to get into my head. Saying I was just a whore and laughing to each other about if I was a virgin or not…and then Diamante said he’d check.”

You heard a sound in Doflamingo’s throat. And you quieted as his face abruptly touched against yours. But he didn’t kiss you. His hands which had been squeezing your knees now relaxed as he began to stroke your thighs.

And you didn’t know what reaction you’d expected from him. But this was not it as you’d let Doflamingo lean further into you.

“How much did Diamante touch you?” Came the next quiet, but equally firm question.

Which you did make yourself answer once more. Because you didn’t want him to turn on you again. And even as humiliating as this all was, you tried to stay only with the facts, not the dark emotions they inspired.

“It was one hand under my skirt, a finger between my legs. And one hand in my shirt, under my bra. But I twisted away from him. Then he grabbed and dislocated my arm at the shoulder and my coat tore. Somehow I came right out of that coat. I broke out of the mucus with the last haki I could make, and I ran away from the both of them. I escaped.”

“Did he push that finger inside of you?” Doflamingo asked so specifically then. Almost as if this was what was truly important in it all to him. 

And you felt your stomach turn, disgusting as it was. You did not like acknowledging any of it, but you still answered with the warlord’s face nuzzled oddly into yours all the while.

“No. His finger was just feeling me on the outside. He was about to I guess. Before I pulled away.”

And maybe there was the slightest hint of relief in the way Doflamingo’s back muscles relaxed at that revelation. But even that still wasn’t enough. As he did have another very personal question for you.

“How old were you really when you lost your virginity then?”

And fuck, why did it even matter at this point? But maybe this was his way of striking when the iron was already hot so to speak. He had you vulnerable enough right now to tell him the truth, and he never missed an opportunity did he?

“Eighteen.” You said simply.

“Consensual?” 

“Yes.”

He pulled back slightly, and you felt that stare on you again. There was no smile at all. “It was Kuzan…wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” And you felt your face muscles tighten once more. You knew how insanely jealous Doflamingo could be. So that nervousness peaked within you all over again. You didn’t want to fight.

But his anger didn’t come. At least not in the way you would have expected. You saw his own face shift strangely as a smile formed instead. But it wasn’t like his normal ones at all.

“Well, I was only fifteen when I lost mine.” He said from nowhere as your eyes widened. “And it absolutely was not consensual.” 

But at least a little like you then, it was like those words couldn’t stop once he’d let them out. Even as his smile began to grow. That expression contrasted the brief strain in his voice.

“It was a fucking powerhouse of a man. He could have just snapped my neck then and there with one hand. But I’d killed his whole crew to take his territory from him. So he was going to make me pay in spades of course. I’d never had sea prism cuffs on before or since. I didn’t know how to fight very well then. And certainly not with my devil fruit taken away once he got those cuffs on me. Even my haki was nothing to him then, he was just that angry. I’ll never forget…the smell of that. The sweat and the hate, getting fucked, bent over a crate in some sweltering warehouse. And you know who pulled him off of me and beat him to goddamn death right then and there for all of his trouble?”

And Doflamingo actually laughed, loud and long then, as if that was the far better part of that violent memory.

But the horror in your own face couldn’t be matched, not at all as you already knew what he was going to say next before the names came out of his mouth.

“Trebol and Diamante.” He grinned, his sunglasses still blocking his eyes from you. Not showing his true self in any of this. “They heard it and they found us before anyone else.” 

And you were blinking back tears by then, something he surely saw in your own eyes as he did kiss you suddenly again to stop it.

But had he told you this as his own way of showing you weren’t alone in the things you’d experienced against your will? Or was it just to prove the complicated nature of the monsters he surrounded himself with? Your attackers were his rescuers.

Or…could even something as devastating as that be a memory he would willfully use to garner your sympathy? As another manipulation to make you pity him? Surely not…

And yet he was grinning fully once he broke that kiss with you again, watching you like your reaction was so much more important than his in all of this.

And your heart was torn, finding these stories all still the seeds of nightmares, no matter the motivation. And you didn’t want to let go of him either. Not at all as you again remembered that cowering response he’d shown you if only for that moment the other day as well.

You knew he couldn’t have faked that, not the reflex from when you’d hit him. And all the movements last night as those nightmares had torn through him when he was drunk.

That wasn’t fake either.

That was wholly real.

And yet Doflamingo did so easily unto others what had once been done to him, didn’t he? It didn’t change what he was at all. He’d held you down and forced his cock into you more than once now. Even when you cried, even if you screamed.

He was still so unpredictable. Even as he was starting to show you all the roots from which this evil had grown from.

He stole another long kiss from you though, as if he knew. As if he knew you were overthinking what he didn’t want you to and his hand moved up to stroke the side of your face before he finally pulled back away.

“My crew won’t hurt you again. That’s all you need to know. And I’m ordering you to report it to me if they do. Because nothing happens in Dressrosa without my permission. Understood?”

“Yes.” You said so simply. Yet inhaling though, fighting to draw those emotions back in regardless.

He didn’t seem rattled at all either now in comparison to you, as he finally stood and offered you his hand. “But let’s go. Everyone’s going to want to meet you. This is a big day for the future of our monarchy after all.”

—————————

And you had shaken that pain away as much as you could. You both falling back into your public personas. Everything was a careful production in times like this, that was certain as the two of you had released the grip on each other’s hands just before exiting up the stairs and onto the deck.

He let you walk yourself then. At least seeming to be in agreement there that neither of you wanted to portray you as overly weak or too injured in the public eye. 

And of course his crew had already been lined up and ready, all staring at you as if you were still some mysterious creature who clearly did not belong amongst them.

You could only imagine the rumors rolling through the ship. Being that you’d never left their captain’s cabin a single time while at sea. And all the bloody sheets the servants had had to find and launder.

But you ignored their looks now. Your attention fully going to your first views of what would be your new home for an indefinite future.

The island nation of Dressrosa.

Mooring ropes were being cast out to the dock workers below as the large ship began the process of lining up against it.

You couldn’t see much yet though. Just as you’d heard, Dressrosa was difficult to appreciate from a distance.

A circular island fully surrounded by a massive cliff face of light brown, almost yellowish rock which now towered above the ship. Only the smallest slit had been cut into this natural fortress to accommodate the port entrance. Such a narrow view as you tried to look at the multicolored rooftops you could see just a hint of in that distance beyond.

Of course, the other thing that could not be ignored was the crowd which had gathered, fully awaiting the unloading of Doflamingo’s ship.

And he was back behind you then, just as you’d noticed the flashes of cameras in the distance. 

“Welcome home, love.” That dark voice whispered near your ear once more as he’d bent briefly down. “Just follow my lead once we’re on the ground. They’re very excited today…so keep your head up and stay moving. We’re heading straight for the palace.”

——————————

There was that briefest bit of nostalgia for Doflamingo as his foot soldiers kept the walkway open, parting the crowd for the two of you when you’d first set foot onto these public docks.

It wasn’t so long ago after all when these very same peasants had been shouting his name alone in adulation for their new king. 

But now they wanted to know firsthand if all the reports and speculation of his new interest were true.

In this, the kingdom of love and passion, its citizens were falling over themselves to get their first real looks at you. The woman who their most eligible bachelor and king had now expressed a public fondness for.

But as the king’s plateau and his palace atop it would soon be coming into view, he shifted on his feet, just enough to bump you with his hip as you both still walked. 

The abrupt touch did have you looking up at him reflexively. Just like he wanted you to of course as he smiled down at you and another camera flashed.

That was going to be a good picture.

But over the shouts of those reporters and the crowd, they weren’t going to hear what he said to you either. 

“You only get to see your new kingdom for the first time, one time, darling. Are you paying attention?”

——————————

And of course you were. But there were so many other stimuli to consider too. You knew even now you were the marines’ sole representation on this island. So you tried to stay professional, walking without a limp in your uniform despite the pain. And not too entranced in any new sight or bothered by all the attention.

The thing you were finding most distracting though were these little things jumping around near everyone’s legs.

You knew what they were, but you’d never seen them in person. Especially when some small metal dog ran out nearly underfoot. Barking artificially with its metallic shine of purple polka dots before a girl grabbed it up to reclaim it, giggling bashfully at you all the while.

The living toys of Dressrosa is what they were, seemingly ubiquitous in their dispersal throughout the crowd. Each and every toy that you’d noticed was unique as well. Oddly cute in their own ways, but still strange as they begged for recognition from their human masters.

You didn’t know if they were fully mechanical, or perhaps it was something more akin to the homies of Totto Land in Big Mom’s territory? If they contained even a piece of someone’s soul that would be far more disconcerting to you. As far as whose piece it was and if there had been full consent to make them. 

Either way, it was certainly strange and something you’d be wanting to learn more about in the future. But everything would be similar in that regard right now. All new and your mind not really knowing where to start before that massive landmass and Doflamingo’s main residence itself were then above you. 

—————————

“My officers are waiting for us in the Hall of Suits. I called them earlier to know when to expect us.” He’d spoken to you again as the lift doors had closed to bring you both up through the king’s plateau via the elevator. To him, it was a novelty to have to enter his own palace through the street level like this.

Normally he’d be coming either from the hidden underground port late at night, or just through one of the windows straight into his office or bedroom at the top levels if he really had been out in the city or beyond alone for some reason.

Which he’d absolutely be bringing you out there for a private tour of the island at some point. At least the public portions of it anyway. Secrets would have to come later. He knew you were too intelligent to be kept in the dark for very long. But he needed far more safeguards in place before you could learn too much.

Those real reasons he and Dressrosa both had become so much wealthier just in the two years he’d now run things here. The revelations would come in time. But when they did, he’d already promised himself that you’d have a ring on your finger and a baby in your arms. Because then you’d have no way to leave him without losing your life or the child’s. He’d make any other options of true escape impossible for you.

That was the primary reason for his urgency on that call with Caesar today. Because he did hear that clock ticking in his head. Tsuru would be coming soon. So every potential weapon he had, had to be used and it had to be now. He wasn’t going to come this far just to lose you so soon.

And it truly should be unholy, how easily he was still able to offer you a warmer smile even as these thoughts rattled in his head.

You had looked up at him then, and the need for closeness overcame him as he took your hand again. The reporters had been left outside. It was only his foot soldiers in the lift with you to witness that sudden affection.

Them staring in result of it too as the doors opened again and he walked you into the main palace entryway for the very first time, his hand tight around yours.

He liked the feel of it so much. Just like in Scylla as the two of you had walked those streets together. Your hand absolutely disappeared within his, but that warmth did not.

The sense of ownership so comforting to him along with it as he pulled you lightly, leaving the foot soldiers to their duties elsewhere.

And at the last moment, he was feeling content enough to add a bit more fun to this too.

“We’ll take a shortcut through the courtyard.” He spoke to alert you, but without explaining why of course.

Because he knew exactly which type of his royal subjects would now be lazing about out there in the evening sun hoping for even a crumb of his attentions.

Unless he instructed otherwise, every morning the palace gates would be opened for them. Of course there were rules, attire that was required for admission for instance.

Always, it was the smaller those bits of bikini fabric, the better as he’d then led you out under the archway and their giggling voices erupted immediately at first sight of him.

“Your highness! Welcome home!” 

And oh they were in full form today. More lithe bodies splashing about and sprawled in all the reclined chairs by his pool than was even customary. But he knew they would be. They had wanted to see you, their new competition after all. They wanted to judge for themselves how serious he was in all of this.

Even he wasn’t narcissistic enough to hope for much response from you however. Not immediately anyway. You just weren’t that easy to fluster in public when in uniform, with some exceptions of course.

But he would absolutely enjoy waiting to see if you carved out your own territory and put these girls in their place in the long run. They meant nothing to him of course, just time wasters to warm his cock in. And surely they all knew that too. But money talked, and he’d compensate them nicely when they performed well enough. They also heavily enjoyed whatever brief clout came from being his flavor of the week of course.

“Good evening, ladies. It’s good to be back.” Doflamingo did finally respond, letting those women hang on his every word as he tried to watch your reaction out of the corner of his eye regardless.

And you were watching them at least, not looking too impressed as he squeezed your hand a little harder.

“Perhaps we’ll be back outside tomorrow. I need to show the captain around the palace of course, but it’s been a long day already.”

Rarely would he have initiated conversation with them to this degree either, especially when just passing through.

But it was all for fun right now as he did see those pouty faces of theirs in response.

“Oh well, maybe tomorrow then! If she doesn’t have a bathing suit, she can borrow one of ours!” And they were giggling again. That mix of false politeness and challenge all at once.

You rolled your eyes, and that show at last of even the briefest negative emotion from you did make him laugh.

“We’ll see. I may have her too busy for all that.” And that was said in his deeper register. Enough so that that look on your face became more of a glare directed up at him as he grinned in return.

You didn’t like being hinted at as just his newest conquest either did you? But of course you were more than that. He just couldn’t help but be a bit catty too when there was so much of it going around at the moment.

He was tempted to grab your ass on the way out of the courtyard too. Enough that they would see it. But it wasn’t worth a full fight with you in this moment. Not when he knew you were about to be stressed enough as he brought you back inside and down that next corridor to the Hall of Suits.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

End Notes: As always, thank you so very much for reading! My Doflamingo fixation compelled me to write Chapter 1 of this fic initially as a smutty one shot after almost three years of my not writing anything. I just had to get it out of my system. And to my shock, a few people actually enjoyed it! So, loving the One Piece fandom as I have been, I kept going wanting to contribute the little bit that I could to the larger OP fan-fiction sphere in the name of this pink bastard.

Now that this has become a multi chapter story (rare for me even when I did use to write more back in the day), there’s concepts I want to touch on that I feel I couldn’t do otherwise in a one shot. And for those that have read this from the very first chapter until now, I wanted to give you that preview. So that you can decide if this is still where you want to follow.

The main thing I have been waffling on is whether or not Doflamingo gets his way on baby trapping reader. It’s like pandora’s box for me as I keep going back to it, picking it up, and then putting it back down. But in the end, I’ve decided to open the box. Because I, personally, have to know. I want to see which Doflamingo we get when he’s actually a biological father since he’s so weird about his bloodline anyway. And I feel it would have to be by choice like this. Because he’s too smart to let that happen by accident. So I can’t do it without all the setup that we now have. 

Also, I want to see how this will affect Law. Because it absolutely will. When a truly innocent child is now thrown into the works (Law grew up with Buffalo, Baby 5, and Dellinger and knows they’re already as screwed up as he used to be). But also since this kid will be the next Corazon in title. So to carry that name, that innocence, and likely a strong family resemblance to their late uncle…it would be a mind trip for Law. Would he be determined to save them from their father’s influence in the same way that Cora saved him? Or would he still only be worried about his own revenge?

That being said, Doflamingo will definitely suffer for this underhanded bullshit he’s about to pull on reader. Karma is coming. I promise. He’s going to be put through it emotionally. Charybdis that started it all in Chapter 1 is going to be an island that will return to hurt them both. I’m also not done with Aokiji or Crocodile in this. They are diehard DoflamingoxReader antis. Aokiji because he truly cares about reader, and Crocodile because he’s watching a repeat of his own past trauma at Doflamingo’s hands and just does not want that shitbird to win yet again.

So we’ll see what happens. Nothing is set in stone as I do write in a very improv heavy style of letting the characters take it where it will go. But that’s what I can say for now. Thank you, thank you, thank you again! 😭

-Moonbaby26

[thedepressedjuggalette]

Arcane theory: Skye IS the Inspiration Rune.

Okay, I know it's kinda worthless to have a theory when the rest of the show is going to be coming out soon, but I need to get this brainrot out of my head while I can. But he warned fuck ton of spoilers ahead especially if I am right. Also there is so much brainrot you are probably going to call the cops on me.

And the title itself outright shows what my theory is.

However, let me elaborate.

I play League of Legends and like every single summoner on the rift knows there are more than just four runes trees.

It has been pointed out countless times that Viktor's Hexcore is incomplete.

Looking here we have Precision, Domination, Sorcery, and Resolve but one is missing which is the very obvious Inspiration Rune.

To give you a basic understanding of how these Runes work in game:

The Precision tree grants you improved attacks and sustainable damage.

The Domination tree grants you burst damage and target access.

The Sorcery tree grants you empowered abilities and resources control.

The Resolve tree grants you durability and crowd control.

But the Inspiration tree grants you creative tools and rule bending.

This all should sound familiar now that we have the first three episodes of season two.

Jayce, Ekko, and Heimerdinger had found that the arcane is upset from all the demands that Hextech had made and even started affecting the weaponry that Jayce had made.

Jayce and Victor's research and inventions are incomplete and thus are fairly unstable and volatile depending on what runes they had used for their inventions.

To give you an example as to what the Inspiration Rune does in comparison to the others let's look at the raw trees themselves.

The Inspiration tree is the most versatile of all the runes in League of Legends. When picking your runes you get the first "Keystone" rune tree and are able to pick from a variety of benefits before picking a supplementary rune set that doesn't offer as much of a drastic benefit as the first one but does offer a fair amount of goodies.

Here are the benefits you can pick from in the Inspiration tree.

From two simple images in this you can spot Hextech clearly -- one of them being outright called Hextech Flashtraption.

But to look at the analysis, the rule breaking in this tree is fucking insane with the keystone runes alone.

Glacial Augment:

Passive: Immobilizing an enemy champion will cause 3 glacial rays to emanate from them towards you and other nearby enemy champions, creating icy zones with a 700 unit radius that last for 3 (+ 100% of the immobilizing effect's duration) seconds.

Enemies within the icy zones, which have a width of 80 units, are slowed by 20% (+ 7% per 100 bonus AD) (+ 6% per 100 AP) (+ 9% per 10% heal and shield power) and have their damage reduced by 15% against your allies, excluding yourself.

Unsealed Spellbook:

Passive: While not channeling Teleport and being out-of-combat for 5 seconds, you can swap one of your equipped summoner spells to a new, single use summoner spell. You cannot select a summoner spell you have already equipped.

Your first swap becomes available after 6 minutes, with an initial 300 second cooldown. Selecting a unique summoner spell reduces the swap cooldown by 25 seconds. You must swap to 3 different summoner spells before returning to one you've already used.

Selecting a summoner spell puts it on a 5 second cooldown.

Using a selected summoner spell puts the summoner spell in the same slot on a 10 second cooldown.

(a summoner spell is a spell that you the player has that works outside of the champions themselves' skillset, from Flash -- a small blink that is used to bypass walls and dodge enemy attacks but is put on a rather long cool down, Ignite -- a spell used to set the enemy on fire for a short duration of time, and more.)

And finally First Strike:

Passive: Dealing damage or applying a crowd control effect to an enemy champion within the first 0.25 seconds of champion combat, grants 10 Gold 10 and First Strike for 3 seconds, causing all of your post-mitigation damage dealt against champions to deal 7% bonus true damage. Afterwards, you are granted gold equal to ( Melee role 50% / Ranged role 35%) of all bonus damage dealt within the duration.

First Strike will be placed on full cooldown after being struck by an enemy champion before you strike them.

These are completely different and outright insane in comparison to the other runes, which I will give one example from each tree.

From the Precision tree let's look at the most famous of them, Press the Attack:

Passive: Basic attacks on-hit against enemy champions apply a stack for 4 seconds, refreshing on subsequent applications, expiring upon attacking a new champion, and stacking up to 3 times. The third stack consumes all stacks to deal 40 − 160 (based on level) bonus Attack damage Magic damage adaptive damage and grant you 8% increased damage (except Hybrid penetration true damage) against champions until you are no longer in combat with them.

Adaptive Damage: This effect deals either physical or magic damage depending on the damage contribution from your attack damage and ability power to the effect's damage formula. Greater bonus damage from the AD (Attack Damage) ratio → Physical damage. Greater bonus damage from the AP (Ability Power) ratio → Magic damage.

If the damage contribution of AD and AP are zero or otherwise equal, the damage type depends on the effect's particular default.

From the Domination tree we have Dark Harvest:

Passive: Damaging basic attacks and ability damage against enemy champions below 50% of their maximum health deal 20 (+ 9 per Soul) (+ 10% bonus AD) (+ 5% AP) bonus Attack damage Magic damage adaptive damage and, after a 1.75-second delay, reap 1 Soul. This cannot occur again for 35 seconds, resetting to 1 second upon scoring a Damage rating takedown against an enemy champion.

While not on cooldown, also reap 1 Soul from receiving the kill credit of a champion killed by a minion, monster, or turret.

Adaptive Damage: This effect deals either physical or magic damage depending on the damage contribution from your attack damage and ability power to the effect's damage formula.

Greater bonus damage from the AD ratio → Physical damage. Greater bonus damage from the AP ratio → Magic damage. If the damage contribution of AD and AP are zero or otherwise equal, the damage type depends on the effect's particular default.

In Sorcery we have Arcane Comet:

Passive: Dealing ability damage to an enemy champion hurls an Arcane Comet at their current location that lands after 0.825 seconds, dealing 30 − 130 (based on level) (+ 10% bonus AD) (+ 5% AP) physical or magic damage to enemies within a 140 radius upon impact. Dealing forms of ability damage reduces the remaining cooldown. Spell damage: 20% Area damage: 10% per enemy hit Persistent damage: 5% If「 10% bonus AD ≥ 5% AP, 」「 bonus AD ≥ 50% AP, 」deals physical damage. If otherwise, deals magic damage.

And finally in Resolve we have Grasp of the Undying:

Passive: Entering combat generates 1 stack every second for the next 3 seconds, refreshing the duration with each instance of combat and stacking the effect up to 4 times. At maximum stacks, your next basic attack on-hit within 5 seconds against an enemy champion consumes all stacks to deal bonus magic damage equal to ( Melee role 3.5% / Ranged role 2.1%) of your maximum health, heal you for ( Melee role 1.3% / Ranged role 0.78%) of your maximum health), and permanently grant ( Melee role 5 / Ranged role 3) bonus health.

These are basic as hell where Inspiration's tree grants you so much versatility.

Now that we have this all established let's look at the entire point of Hextech as established by Viktor and Jayce.

They invented Hextech to IMPROVE LIVES.

For instance Jayce outright states that he made the Atlas Gauntlets to help the people mining in the Fissures to work faster and without fatigue. Hence improving efficiency.

If I were to assign runes to the gauntlets it would be the Resolve Tree.

However we have to look at something specific when it comes to Arcane and Hextech in general.

In Arcane and League of Legends Lore, you have to be BORN WITH MAGIC in order to use magic. Even in the second episode one of the Council members outright said you have to be "Born with Arcane talents, you can't just make them".

This outright shows that Jayce and Viktor are rule breaking.

To stabilize this that means a new Rune has to be made or found. So here is where my theory comes full circle.

Skye actively wanted to help Viktor because he inspired her. She was in love with him, and it was very clear to anyone with half a braincell that she loved him with all her heart.

I imagine that finding out his prognosis made her want to save him no matter what. And she unknowingly sacrificed her life for him when the Hexcore was going out of control. And it took her. After all to quote Fullmetal Alchemist "Human kind can not gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's first law of equivalent exchange."

So upon being taken by the Hexcore her sentience has possessed the Hexcore and is now trapped inside it. She is now leading Viktor to his dream of helping those in need in Zaun after saving him from the brink of death. Once something goes wrong however, she will stabilize Magic itself and become the rune of Inspiration, to ensure the safety of not only Viktor but all of Piltover, Zaun and even Runeterra as a whole.

I am probably super far off, but fuck you my brain is rotting and melting out of my ears to such a point I'm probably gonna go insane. Someone send help. I need an ambulance.

[moonsharky]

comalandia ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° 911 fox + not so obvious nods to buck's memories

only the not really obvious ones, and i'm sure theres probably some i missed but oh well. image descriptions have explanations too. see the end for honourable mentions

[Image Description:

10 gifs of Evan "Buck" Buckley (and others) from 9-1-1, during his coma dream in season 6 episode 11, with older episodes too.

Gif 1: Buck - in his coma dream - sits on the couch between his brother and their father, beer in hand for all three of them. To the left of the couch is a shelf that holds a lamp, and in front of the lamp is a framed picture of the bar Buck tended in Peru. The picture contains the dark wood bar top encircled by a bunch of colourful barstools.

Gif 2: In Peru, season 4 episode 5, we see Connor talking to an off-screen Buck. Connor leans his elbows on the bar top. Next to him we can slightly see the same bright barstools as in the photo. In the background are tables and chairs that match the vibe. It's not a glaringly obvious nod, but it's definite.

Gif 3: In the lobby of the hospital within the coma dream Buck stands with Hen and Chimney as they try to figure out why it feels like Buck is dying and how he can get back to his life outside. Behind Buck walks two people in traditional South Asian attire; one in a dark blue and silver detailed sari, and the other wearing a head covering, but with an indiscernible outfit because Buck's body stands in the way of view.

Gif 4: In season 1 episode 5, a bride-to-be stands in front of a tall mirror, wearing a bright red sari with gold details, as her friend/bridesmaid helps her prepare for the wedding. We know the last gif is a nod to this specific moment (and not just people in the background) for two reasons; one, because it's an important part of Bobby's story in season 1, and two, because we have never seen Indian people in traditional clothing before or since.

Gif 5: The camera focus is mainly on Bobby, following him as his quickly rushes past Buck in the coma dream, so the background is a blink and miss it situation. A doctor tends to a patient with a high heel shoe embed in their left cheek.

Gif 6: Season 2 episode 6, has Chimney talking to one of the parents of the child beauty queens, who has a high heel shoe stabbed into the left cheek.

Gif 7: In the background of a few shots within Buck's coma journey throughout the hospital, you can see two people in khaki/beige ensembles. They stand as if they're guarding whatever is on the other side of the glass doors behind them. At first inspection, they could easily be passed off as nurses. But looking closer, it seems like no other nurses have worn this colour of scrubs before in the show. Mostly it's blue, sometimes maroon or even pink. But never khaki. This combined with the way they hold themselves, makes me think of the two prisoners that pretend to be guards.

Gif 8: In season 5 episode 6, two prisoners have taken the uniforms of guards in order to blend in and escape. They rummage through the personal belongings of said guards, seeing what they can take. The colour is the exact same as the two from the hospital in Buck's coma dream. And again, the way they stand brings me to think of these two.

Gif 9: Buck and Bobby walk through the hospital, past some open curtains where beds are. They pass a few pregnant people, all in varying degrees of athleisure wear. It appears that they may all be in labour.

Gif 10: Buck and Bobby respond to a call where pregnant parents begin to go into labour one after the other. All wearing clothing comfortable enough to do yoga in.

honourable mentions:

When Buck first awakens within his coma, he looks up at Daniel as Daniel talks, giving the rundown of what happened. In the top left corner, the television is on, a news segment playing. The headline reads "VA HOSPITAL WAIT TIMES." The second line is hard to read, but this is going on the same time that Buck has his first memory, which just so happens to be of Eddie. Eddie, who is an Army Vet. Whom in comalandia fights to keep his son, but doesn't have the right support systems. It feels like this is somehow a little hint to that storyline.

When Buck arrives home in his voma dream to his parents waiting for him, he wears a white shirt with wide spaced grey pinstripe. Much like the one he was wearing when Eddie got shot. It's not the same shirt I don't think, but hugely similar. Also there's a photo on his computer desk, but the image is too pixelated and far away for me to figure out what it is, though it may be another nod to something.

In the hospital waiting room of comalandia, another TV is turned on to the news, black smoke billowing on the footage on screen. I can't make out what the headline says. But it can definitely hint at many different things in the show, as Buck is a firefighter after all.

Christopher shows up in Buck's coma dream, and he wears a three toned horizontally striped tee under a hoodie. The stripes alternate between an almost green shade of blue, a dark blue, and white. Not sure where from, but I swear Chris has worn this shirt before, or even something similar.

/END ID]

[altschmerzes]

THE 13 BOOKS I READ IN 2023 IN ORDER FROM BEST TO WORST + THE PROTAGONIST'S SUPERLATIVE. PART 1.

NOTE: this ranking is entirely based on how much i enjoyed the thing and not necessarily on anything quantifiable or concrete. except for 1 and 12 those are just i think empirically true. also, this got very very hard between 2-8 and i enjoyed everything above 10 like, immensely. that said:

1. The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle. fucking gorgeous book. the writing was incredible, it made me feel like i needed to write right now right now right now or i was going to die and also why would i ever write again when i didn't write this. made me REEL several times and need to put it down and process it. i need to read it again and again. so much in there about the structure of story and fairytales and roles within a story and just. augh. man. i have at least a thousand words worth of highlights of quotes that make me completely insane. i want to write a dissertation on the interactions of amalthea and lír.

Protagonist: Amalthea/The Unicorn. Best Gender Moments And Unmatched Aro Vibes.

2. Blackcurrant Fool by Victoria Goddard. someone designed these books in a lab just to kill specifically me. i'm so thrilled i'm like, mad about it. this is book four in the series and included some MASSIVELY fun payoffs for some background references and foreshadowing that had been building for a while. some of my favourite tropes on this here earth are contained in this book and they make me insane in their execution. beloved. i kept having to put my face in my hands and shriek. like. literally. i liveblogged the last like ~30% of the book to several people. in detail.

Protagonist: Jemis Greenwing. Most Likely To Respond To A Given Situation With Both The Most Sincerely Heartfelt And Most Dramatic Option Possible And Then Insist That This Was The Obvious And Logical Thing To Do.

3. Bee Sting Cake by Victoria Goddard. some really excellent introductions to characters and concepts in here. did a good job as the second book in the series to continue keeping things interesting while maintaining and expanding on what was good about the first one, introducing new elements and making them play well with the established dynamics and situation. some really fun exploration of 'what if your two favourite people met each other and how would that go'. some delightful stuff about bees also which gets me in my feelings and the pov character has a good cry a couple times which he damn well deserves at this point.

Protagonist: (since there are two, i'm alternating for this series' superlatives) Peregrine Dart. Best At Being Totally And Completely Fine (Lying).

4. Stargazy Pie by Victoria Goddard. YES. I LIKED THESE BOOKS A LOT OKAY. THREE OF THEM IN A ROW. WHAT OF IT. very fun introduction to a series, it was a great first book. it delivered its worldbuilding in my favourite way for a fantasy series to do so, which is to just sort of drop me right in and explain as we go in a naturalistic kind of way. it meant i had to accept i just didn't know what was going on several times but that was fine. excellent combo of silly and serious and the characters are just. so charming and i'm so so fond of them. also i love a really stuffy strict distant society. bc then i'm like OHO TIME TO BREAK THESE RULES!!!

Protagonist: Jemis Greenwing. Most Likely To Have Everything Happen To Him So Much And All At Once.

5. By Force Alone by Lavie Tidhar. this book would probably have been ranked higher if it weren't for all the Someone's Got Their Dick Out. which is fine, go for it, but it felt like all the like. someone is getting their guts stabbed out and someone else is fuckin every other page is mostly a thematic thing that is supposed to drive home how gritty and grimy the narrative is. which y'know. not my bag. i like a gritty and grimy narrative but dude we know. that said it was extremely fun except for that, and i liked the way the characters were described a lot. they were not good people and it was deliberate and compelling. it was a lot to process all at once and i wish i'd slowed down with it - the last fourth of the book particularly hit me like a train. special shoutout to everything this book did with pelinore and the questing beast.

Protagonist: Arthur Pendragon. Most Doomed By The Narrative.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

It’s The Little Things

A/N: I know it’s been a hot second since I’ve posted anything, but I had this little idea after seeing a video of a girl do this for her boyfriend and just wrote this quick little, fluffy story. So I hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 1,690 words Warnings: Lots of fluff :)

Gerard was practically living with you at this point.

Yes, technically speaking, he did have his own place. And no, technically he didn’t pay for rent (though that was a recent conversation between the two of you where he attempted to insist he needed to and you promptly said no). But he was here at least six out of seven days a week, if not all seven.

You didn’t mind by any means, having your boyfriend to help out around the place a bit or cuddle with when he was consistently home was nice. But his long days now working on the upcoming album on top of his already long commute from his place and LA traffic to the studio space was what had him staying here so often. Your apartment was roughly 10 minutes from the studio, his 45. Yours was in an area he liked better anyways, more parks and things to do and much less hectic than his area of town.

While spending time together, however, you had noticed his growing feeling of disconnect. You didn’t need him to outright say that he was losing some connection with people back home, the things he would say, even the slightest hints in conversation gave you all you need. This was because of the primary problem that you didn’t have a gaming set up, at all.

It was the way he communicated best with friends back home who lived on the other coast of the country, was through gaming. You had no problem with him doing it, and it wasn’t like he was addicted or anything. He knew how to time manage well, and if you needed help on anything he would be there within a minute of your request. But now, with not being at his place where all his set up was, he didn’t have the opportunity to use that as a stress reliever or to be able to actually communicate with some of his best friends. 
And this is where the combination of your master plan (sponsored by your recent bonus check) came to mind.

He already had been keeping a list of new equipment he wanted, and thanks to your inside source (AKA Mikey) you had gotten ahold of just that list. Sure, most of this stuff wasn’t cheap, but it wasn’t overly expensive either. So as soon as your additional check processed you went on a shopping spree for your boyfriend, without him knowing.

It had taken a full day, or the entire Thursday out of this week for you. It started as soon as he left at 8:45 to get to the studio. As soon as his car was about 10 minutes down the road, you took your own first to Best Buy to get the simple things, then across to some more specialty stores around town to find just what he needed (suddenly thankful for just how big LA was and therefore it’s variety). Shipping stuff was not an option, it would’ve made it far too obvious and ruined the surprise.

It didn’t take all that long to get everything, it was just setting it up that was a bit of a pain in the ass. First, the IKEA desk was a handful, which you had to get one of the guy’s you knew down the hall to assist you with. Then it was figuring out power cords and confusing directions with lists of terminology you had never seen before. And finally, turning it on to make sure nothing was broken, either by the manufacturer or you.

Everything was set up and ready to go by 5, which was going to be early anyways. Gerard usually didn’t get back until 6 or 6:30 at the earliest, his average being around 8, and some nights going until 10.  You pondered what to do in the meantime, all the productiveness of the day powering you on to continue. You might’ve been going a bit over the top with the niceness today, but you figured the world needed more kindness over everything, so you decided to make his favorite food, which happened to be a combination of your mom’s spaghetti recipe and his. You weren’t sure how, but over the last year and a half or so of dating, you had managed to combine a bit of both their recipe’s to make your own hybrid sauce, which he practically melted over when you made it.

It took the sauce a while to boil down, as in a good three-ish hours, and you figured or at least hoped he would be home by then and could wait just a bit for the food to finish. In the meantime, you decided to finish a few minor work things, and move on to a TV show you watched on your own knowing damn well he would not enjoy it (but you also knew he would sit through it and pretend he liked it even if he didn’t).

Just as you were a good couple episodes in, you heard the lock on the front door jingle a bit. You turned off the TV, hopping up and making it just in time to greet him at the door. “Hey Gee!” You smiled at him, his tired face forcing a small but genuine smile.

“Hey, baby.” He replied, shrugging hit coat and shoes off before giving you a light kiss.

“How was your day?” You asked next, he sighed a bit in response.

“Exhausting, frustrating, the usual.” He replied, “Glad to be home.” You loved it when he called this place “home”, and nuzzled into his side a bit with your head on his shoulder in appreciation. “Yours?”



“Good, I have a surprise for you actually.” He smiled a bit more with a chuckle.

“Is it what I think it is? Because I think I smell your spaghetti sauce but I didn’t wanna get my hopes up.”



“Well there’s that, yes, and then one other thing.” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a little squeeze before you pulled away to lead him into the back part of the living room. “You gotta close your eyes, babe.” You said, which he chuckled at a bit closing his eyes. “I don’t fully believe you. Hands over them too.” He took a huff and followed your instructions as you lightly took his arms and gently led him right next to the new desk with all his equipment. “Okay, ready? Open.” You said and he followed.

At first his face looked a bit confused, but it soon turned to amazement, and then back to confusion as he looked at you for clarification. “It’s a new gaming set up.” You said simply.

He looked back at it in amazement before responding, “F-for me?”



“Yes, for you silly.” You smiled up at him, “I figured you practically live here now, you might as well have one here too. And that way you can still talk to the guys back home and have fun.”

“Babe,” He said simply, before turning to you and giving you one of the biggest hugs you had ever received, and most likely would ever receive in your life. “I- I mean, how did you know what to get? And did you buy this? I can reimburse you and-“



“No baby, none of that.” You replied back, “I paid for all of it, no worries. And not to snitch, but Mikey may or may not have sent me the list of new stuff you wanted for your gaming set up so I just went ahead and bought it.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He asked, cupping your face with his hands and leaning in to give you a slow kiss that he clearly meant with all his heart.

“I’m glad it makes you happy.”



“Very happy, actually. Like ecstatic.” He smiled.

“Anyways, you can set it up with all your stuff if you want. I gotta finish dinner.”

“No, I’ll help you,” He replied, promptly following you into the kitchen. “I can’t believe I’m getting your spaghetti and a gaming set up in a day. How will I ever repay you?” He asked to which you laughed.

“Just come to bed at night and don’t stay up forever, I like having you next to me.”



“That’s not really repaying you, hon,” He explained, “I like that too, I wouldn’t worry about that being a problem.”

After dinner and clean up, which he insisted on doing, you let him set up all of his stuff and play for a bit before hopping in the shower. You were glad to see him this genuinely, truly happy for the first time in a while, and hoped that maybe he would feel even more at home here than he already did. “I’m going to bed, love.” You said, walking up behind him as he removed his headset off of one ear. You gave him a kiss on the head and gentle rub on the shoulder.

“Okay, do you want me to come with?” He asked genuinely with big eyes of slight disappointment but not seeming to mind much. You softly smiled.

“Gee, I’m not your mom.” You chuckled, “But come to bed eventually tonight, I sleep better with you there.”



“Of course, hon, just like 15, maybe 20 more minutes I promise.”



“Alrighty baby, love you.” You replied with a soft smile, watching him go back to his screen.

“Love you too.”

You climbed into your bed on your side, taking your nightly vitamins before tucking yourself in and slowly trying to drift off. You loved making him happy, and seeing him act almost like a kid again brought some joy soaring deep through your veins. It wasn’t but 30 minutes later that you felt the bed next to you sink, and his body quickly engulfing yours, his head nuzzling onto your shoulder as he planted a soft kiss on your cheek. “Love you, sweet girl.” He whispered just loud enough so you could hear it. You smiled to yourself contently, interlocking his fingers placed lightly on your stomach with your own.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 3: A Christmas Miracle (3/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2471

Other chapters: 1 2 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

Notes:  Here’s the conclusion of A Christmas Miracle.  Once again, it was written in 2013 and fits within my A Wish Your Heart Makes universe.

“If you hadn’t cast the curse in the first place, dearie, Pan never would have had the opportunity to curse us the second time.” Mr. Gold hissed.

“Oh, that’s rich!” Regina said with a sneer, “considering it’s coming from the imp who provided me with the curse in the first place!”

Emma sat in her favorite booth at Granny’s and watched her adversarial family members face off. She was rather impressed. They’d remained civil for nearly two hours.

“Come on guys,” Mary Margaret said, walking up to Gold and Regina, her hand extended in a pacifying gesture, “let’s not argue. It’s Christmas!”

Regina turned on her. “Stay out of it, Snow. It’s all your fault anyway.”

“My fault?!” Mary Margaret yelled, her hands coming to rest on her hips.

“Don’t play stupid,” Regina sneered, “Or maybe you’re not playing.”

“Just a minute! You can’t talk to my wife that way!” David charged into the fight.

Regina rolled her eyes and turned back to Mary Margaret.

“Yes, Snow,” Regina continued, “if it wasn’t for your total inability to keep your mouth shut, we wouldn’t be where we’re at.”

“Where we’re at? Where we’re at?!” Mary Margaret fumed, “That's…that’s not even grammatically correct, let alone accurate!”

Emma rolled her eyes. They were arguing about grammar? It was definitely time to go get some air…before the magic started flying. She got to her feet, and wobbled for a second on her high heels. Why had she let Mary Margaret convince her to dress up? If she had to come to this party, couldn’t she have at least been comfortable?

Emma turned her back on the argument, on Neal and Henry talking in a booth on the other side of the diner, on Hook who had gone up to the bar for another drink. Pushing the door open, she stepped outside.

Hook looked up as he heard the bell over Granny’s door chime. He caught a glance of golden hair and a soft blue dress before the door closed behind Emma. The lass had been rather quiet since dinner; he wondered what was bothering her. It was obvious something was; something beyond the obvious awkwardness of this party.

The voices rose behind him, everyone trying to shout down the others. Something crashed against a far wall. He shook his head. Snow White really did see the world through rose-colored glasses. How on earth had she thought this group of people would have a good time together?

Hook took a final swig of the beer he was drinking, and then headed for the door. He had no wish to remain in what was turning into an all-out battlefield. Of course, the thought of spending some time alone with the lovely Emma, might have played a part in the decision as well.

Pushing the glass door open, Hook stepped outside. There she stood underneath the awning, shivering. Why hadn’t she grabbed her coat before she’d stepped out?

“It’s a bit cold to be standing outside love,” he commented, stepping up behind her.

“Yeah, well,” she answered, turning toward him, “it beats getting caught in the middle of World War III in there.”

He laughed and shrugged out of his coat. He draped it over her shoulders and was rewarded with one of her rare smiles. They stood there for a moment watching the snow gently fall through the dark, evening air. Hook caught strains of music coming from the convent; it seemed the nuns were ringing in Christmas with carols.

“Joy to the world the Lord is come…”

“It doesn’t look like Mary Margaret is going to be able to get in all the Christmas traditions she was hoping for,” Emma commented. “We didn’t get to the Christmas carol sing-a-long.”

“It’s a shame,” Hook commented, looking over at her, “that was the part I was particularly looking forward to.”

“Really?” she asked looking at him with skeptical eyes, “You want to sit around singing carols?”

“And why not,” he asked with a grin. “Some of the songs I have heard here in Storybrooke would be particularly appropriate to the evening at hand.”

“Such as?” she asked with a matching grin.

“When we finally kiss goodnight,” he sang in a soft baritone, “how I’ll hate going out in the storm, but if you really hold me tight, all the way home I’ll be warm.”

She rolled her eyes, but he saw the smile that draped her face. A moment later, she turned back toward the street with a dejected little sigh. They stood in silence for a minute. “…And heaven and nature sing. And heaven and nature sing. And heaven, and heaven and nature sing.”

“It’s really coming down,” she finally said looking up at the streetlight across from them.

“Aye,” he answered with a smile. “We’ll have a fine blanket come Christmas morning.”

“Great,” she said with a grimace. “Just what I wanted for Christmas.”

“Oh come on love,” he said, turning her back toward him. “Surely there was a time you liked snow.”

He expected a witty retort, but instead she dropped her eyes and turned back toward the street. “I do remember one day,” she finally responded. “I was about six. I’d been living with a foster family for almost three years. They were great; I really thought they would adopt me. One day, it was close to Christmas, I remember, my foster dad took my foster brother and me out to play in the snow. We made the biggest snowman I had ever seen. We made snow angels, had a snowball fight, the whole nine yards. Later, we went in and my foster mom had made us a big pot of hot chocolate.”

Emma fell silent, and Hook waited. He heard the pain in her voice and softly began rubbing her shoulder. She leaned into his touch. “…holy infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace.”

“What then, love?” Hook asked after a moment. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“The next morning, my foster dad disappeared,” she answered, and he saw the tears in her eyes. “They never found him; no one knows what happened. Well, my foster mom kinda fell apart. She couldn’t afford to take care of two children, so it was back into the system for me.”

Hook closed his eyes. It must have been devastating for a little girl to lose the only family she had ever known. Turning her once more to face him, he wrapped her in a hug. She resisted for a moment, and then he felt her arms wrap around him.

“I think it’s time we make a new memory surrounding snow,” Hook said after a moment. She pulled away from him and looked questioningly up into his face.

“Yeah?” she asked, “and what would that be?”

Hook grinned. “Well, love. I propose we go play in the snow tomorrow.”

“Play in the snow?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, “Really?”

“Aye, lass,” he smiled at her, “We can bring Henry.”

“And what exactly would we ‘play’ in the snow?”

“First,” he answered, with a wicked grin, “We make a devastatingly handsome snowman with a hook. Then we make a beautiful blonde snow maiden looking adoringly up at him.”

“Are you sure the blonde isn’t rolling her eyes at him?” Emma asked with a grin. “Sounds more true to life.”

Hook put his hand to his heart and staggered as though mortally injured. “You wound me, lass.”

“Hmm,” she said grinning, “that might play to your advantage.”

“Aye? And how is that?”

“Well,” she said with a grin, “if you’re injured you’ll need someone to take care of you.”

Was the lady actually flirting with him? His grin blossomed into a full blown smile. She smiled back for a moment and then turned back to the street. He heard a defeated sigh.

“What’s troubling you, love?” he asked. She didn’t answer for so long he thought she was deliberately ignoring him. The nuns started up a new carol. When blossoms flowered 'mid the snow…

Finally she turned back toward him. “It’s just…” she made a helpless little gesture with her hands. “I don’t know…Every single time it looks like things are starting to work out, like good is going to succeed, like the bad guys are going to get defeated, like we might get a bit of peace and happiness, something else happens. Someone casts a curse, or kidnaps a kid, or…”

“Or disappears sending you back into the system…or turns you in to the police for his crimes…or sends you off to another realm with no more protection than a seven-year-old lad so that you can come back and be the savior?”

“Yeah,” she said, and he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. One escaped and slid down her cheek. Raising his hand, he tenderly wiped it away.

“Emma, love,” he said, his voice going deep and gravelly, “I can’t promise you peace and happiness, but I can promise to always be beside you, helping you, protecting you and those you love. You need never fear I’ll abandon you.”

She whirled away from him and started pacing. The lass was seething. “Yeah?” she snarled at him. “I’ve heard that before. 'I love you, Emma.’ 'You’re like our own daughter, Emma.’ 'Let’s go to Tallahassee, Emma.’ 'We just wanted to give you your best chance, Emma.’ It’s crap! All of it!”

“You doubt me, lass? Even after Camelot?” he asked and was ashamed to hear the pain in his voice.

She stopped and looked back at him. The first Noel the angels did sing…

“No,” she finally answered, “the hell of it is that I don’t doubt you. You’ve proven again and again that you will do anything for me…even at your own expense. But Hook, you’re not indestructable. What if you disappear? Or are kidnapped? Or are killed?”

Hook’s heart swelled. That was real feeling in her voice. The lass was a lot further gone than she thought. He cupped her face with his good hand again.

“Love,” he answered meaning the word with all his heart, “as I said, I can’t promise you nothing terrible will happen, but for today, for this moment all is well. Perhaps, all one can do is create the good memories to be our solace in times of distress.”

She looked up at him for several moments and then slowly nodded, briskly swiping her hands across her damp cheeks.

“So about those snowmen…?” he asked playfully.

“Henry and I will be ready bright and early tomorrow morning,” She answered with a smile.

For the first time in nearly as long as she could remember, Emma felt hope. It was hope that she found shining out of Hook’s blue eyes as he smiled at her.

“I’ve got a gift for you, love,” Hook said, holding out a small, thin box.

“Oh,” Emma said ruefully, “Hook, I didn’t get you anything.”

He smiled gently. “It’s no matter, Emma. I have no need of gifts.” He held the box out to her again, and she reached for it automatically. Lifting the lid, she saw a silver necklace with an opal and silver swan pendant. Emma ran her finger over the jewel.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

“Aye,” he answered looking at her. “It is beautiful, and strong and graceful. Much like you.”

She looked down and then met his eyes. “Is that really how you see me?”

“Aye, lass,” he said gently. “Indeed it is.”

Il est ne le divin enfant… It seemed the nuns had decided to venture into French carols.

“Thank you, Hook,” she said simply. “Well, I don’t hear any yelling, so that probably means they’ve either stopped fighting…or killed each other. Either way, I suppose we should go back in.”

“A moment more lass,” Hook said. That pirate grin of his was back.

“What?” she asked warily. She had come to know that tone in his voice, and it meant trouble.

“Well, love,” he said with a raise of his eyebrow, “I think it is only right that we follow holiday tradition.”

“Exactly what holiday tradition might that be?” she asked. He pointed to a spot over her head. She looked up and saw a sprig of mistletoe hanging right above the two of them.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” she asked with a smile and a slight shake of her head.

“Perhaps so,” he answered playfully, “but your mother has her heart set on her family following the traditions this year. What manner of a daughter would you be if you were to blatantly deny her greatest Christmas wish?”

Her breath caught and her heart began to pound. Well, why not?

“Well, in the spirit of Christmas tradition…” she said with a little wave of her hand.

He looked surprised for a moment, then the grin was back. She was determined she wouldn’t let his kiss affect her, she wouldn’t! Then his lips settled against hers and all rational thought fled. All that existed was this man and the sensations he aroused in her. Her arms wrapped around his neck. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pressing closer, closer. She could never be close enough. She blossomed for him like a flower in a spring rain. The kiss went on and on. It lasted forever; it ended far too soon.

Finally, with a groan, he pulled his lips from hers.

“Emma, love…” he breathed. She couldn’t say a word if her life were on the line. She was glad his arms were still around her because her legs felt like jelly. If he were to release her, she would melt into a puddle at his feet.

Hook took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the charming rogue was back.

“Well, love,” he said gently rubbing her back. “I had it on good authority that the last time was a one-time thing. It seems I’ve just experienced a Christmas miracle!”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t pull away. Though it scared her half to death, she couldn’t deny it any more. Being in his arms felt like…home.

“Well, don’t get too used to it buddy,” she said. Her voice didn’t sound convincing even to her.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he said with a raise of one eyebrow. “After all, I’d have to wait an entire year for another Christmas miracle.”

“Very true,” she said with a grin, “But there are a lot of holidays between now and then.”

He laughed. “I like the way you think, Emma. I like the way you think!”

NEXT CHAPTER->

[dyslexic-asexual]

Favorite things about my mutuals but anonymized for like safety, see if you can guess which one is you? In NO PARTICULAR ORDER its long so cut:

1- one of you I swear is me from a parallel dimension, like our blogs have very similar vibes and sometimes youll say something and I go "wait did I post that??"

2- I can message you about Literally Anything at Literally Any Time and its cool, also Im quite a chill person anyway but you still never cross the line despite both of us being unhinged /pos. Very creative and inspiring

3- very generous? Idk how to explain it, but Im pretty sure you followed me first despite you being an Amazing and Cool artist, and I just couldnt help but follow back youre so nice. Always supporting other blogs too

4- you can definitely guess who you are from how we met, I literally did not know a thing about you having just followed you 2 (two) seconds ago (for your awesome art btw), and I messaged you for advice/help and you still responded, super nicely and genuinely. And THEN continued to be a really cool person that I somehow built a relationship with off of perhaps the most unhinged starting point I have ever given someone

5- the most radical person I know both literally and 80s-wise. Youre so passionate about your interests I cant help but be interested in them too, also super creative and supportive and easy to talk to

6- ANOTHER AMAZING ARTIST and I credit you with teaching me more about/getting me more into subcultures. Again your passion for your interests is contagious and your care for others is obvious within just moments of meeting you. EXCELLENT MUSIC TASTE

7- one of my first followers I believe, you dont post much but when you do youre really funny and you always make sure to come around and support my posts too

8- another earlier supporter and also very funny, but like super creative too. Your humor comes from seeing little bits of joy and mirth in everything and being genuinely and openly yourself. Even your sorting tags are funny, love it when a post comes across my dash

9- YET another amazing artist, and very supportive. You walk the talk and always reblog important posts, as well as sticking around for my bullshit /lh

10- you are correct about fandoms and not afraid to say it. I genuinely see fandoms Im not even a part of in a different and more flattering light now bc of your posts, also youre super cool, like if I saw you on the street I would go ":o" and your art makes me go ":O!"

11- a more recent follow but super easy to get to know! Im glad I reached out! Really good at makeup and also at tagging

If it wasnt obvious ily guys thanks for being here <3<3<3

[weather-cluddy]

(Replied as a new post to avoid the character limit)

It doesn't bother me at all! This sort of question is something I've been turning over for quite a while, actually. I tried to make a post pointing out comparisons between non-paired prisoners, because I feel like people focus too much on number pairs without considering other thematic parallels, even with Milgram pointing some out (Eg: Shidou-Amane, Fuuta-Kotoko, Haruka-Muu, Yuno-Kazui). It stalled around Muu though, because it turns out that's a whole lot of entries, and also I wasn't sure that people would be interested in a post that's dozen of paragraphs long (though still much less elaborate than this post, of course).

Personally, I think Mikoto and Haruka have a lot in common and share many themes, but I hardly ever see it brought up. Some of it, I think, is the fact that Haruka's trauma gets a lot of focus while Mikoto's mostly implied, so there's a lot of people who don't look beneath the surface. So they just get slotted in the boxes of "sympathetic" and "unsympathetic", meaning fans miss the similarities even when it's them doing literally the same thing (Like trying to kill Es to protect their self-worth).

But at the end of the day, we have two people extremely afraid yet dependent on other people's opinions of them, whose every interaction is shadowed by the after-effects of their early-childhood trauma in a way that seems "cute" or harmless at first but really isn't, who committed premeditated murder because they saw it as the only way to make their lives bearable, who have artistic inclinations but can't find the self-confidence to pursue them, who are dealing with mental illnesses they have no (healthy) frame of reference for, who are okay with being used and abused (even physically!) so long as people approve of them...

Well, I don't want to drop the entire essay on the intro part. Onto the first section!

(I didn't particularly mean to organize it like that, but the two sections basically came out as Bokukoto- and Orekoto-centered, respectively. Funny how it worked out.)

Children and adults.

What are Haruka's goals? To be loved and cared for, even if it means taking on a subordinate role. To have his weakness acknowledged yet not be shamed for it, to be have his strengths bring joy to those he loves yet not have people ask more of him than he can give.

What are Mikoto's goals? To be a good, responsible, capable person and have people acknowledge him as such. To have his efforts rewarded, even if it means overexerting himself. To find conventional success and prove to those he loves (his mom, in particular) that they needn't worry for him.

In other words, Haruka wants to be a kid, Mikoto wants to be an adult. Haruka wants to be protected, Mikoto wants to be admired.

Why this difference? Well, I see two possiblities. One, Haruka has a golden past to retreat to, a time when he felt loved and safe. Mikoto might not have had that, or he might not remember it: after all, DID forms from trauma very early in childhood, as early as 5 years old and generally no later than 10. And of course dissociation itself tends to make remembering difficult, even before actual alters get involved.

So, Mikoto most likely doesn't remember any 'good old days' he could yearn for, either because he was extremely young or because they never existed. His only option, then, is to place his hopes on the future.

The second thing is that, in spite of Mikoto most likely having earlier trauma, Haruka is far more obvious in his dysfunction. Pretty much every person he meets will at least walk away with the feeling he's kind of weird, if not worse. This only manages to reinforce his feelings that he's inferior to everyone else, and that that's an inescapable part of his being.

Meanwhile, Mikoto can trudge through life well enough to believe that achieving what he wants is within his reach, even to be expected. Surely if he works both hard and smart, he can accomplish his goals without problem. He can get a good career if he just focuses on what he's good at, choosing 'efficiency' over his interests. And he can get everyone to like him, if he just remembers to always, always be nice to them, no matter how much he'd rather not. Then he'll reap the reward of succeeding at life!

That's just how things work, right? You put in the effort to treat others well, and your reward for doing so is to have other people do the same for you. That's the basis of society! And that's also how Mikoto makes himself feel safe. If his own actions determine other people's actions, then he can stop bad things from happening to him by just not doing anything that would invite punishment. Everyone knows monsters only eat the misbehaving kids!  Just follow the rules and everything will be fine.

(That's another big difference between Mikoto and Haruka: Haruka knows he can't do what's expected of him, so by the start of Milgram he's pretty much given up on the idea of ever being accepted or sucessful. Mikoto does believe he can cut it, but that brings its own kind of helplessness: he can never stop striving with all his might, because if he ever does fall short his self-esteem will crumble to pieces.)

The trouble is, sometimes even when you do follow the rules, other people just... refuse to reciprocate. Why is that? Did you do something wrong? Well, you can't exactly go up to them and ask. Now that would certainly be a faux pas! Clearly the only choice is to figure it out yourself by ruminating on it. All night long. Hey, remember when Mikoto said that he wouldn't be able to sleep if Kotoko didn't wish him a happy birthday? Sure sounds like somebody who worries a normal amount about gestures that might possibly be snubs.

But another convo I'd like to bring up is one with Fuuta, where Mikoto shows up unprovoked to tell Fuuta that being upset about being kidnapped is dumb and childish and will get him nowhere in life, and anyways he's just doing it for attention.

This seems a bit OOC, doesn't it? Mikoto basically never criticizes anybody. When Yuno basically calls him fake to his face, he just laughs and calls her a straight shooter. When Haruka said that he's been avoiding Mikoto because he's scary, he just shrugs and goes, that's fair, I'd have done the same. Hell, even knowing that Kotoko tried to beat him half to death, he still goes to congratulate her on her birthday. So what did Fuuta say that was so much worse than all of those?

The problem, really, isn't what Fuuta said or did to Mikoto, but how Fuuta behaves with everyone. Mikoto can put up with being openly disliked; see his interactions with Kotoko. But seeing somebody so brazenly ignore the rules he's based his life around, now that affects him a way that goes beyond Mikoto as a person.

If you asked Mikoto, he'd probably say that it's because he's sad to see somebody younger than him waste his potential with such stupid, meaningless stubborness. But really, it comes back to the fact that "nothing bad will happen as long as you behave" is one of pillar's of Mikoto's life. So how is he supposed to handle seeing somebody misbehave constantly, repeteadly, and still do just as well as him? What's that supposed to mean? Do things not actually work that way? Was he just being taken advantage of? That can't be. If being nice doesn't ensure that you'll get treated well, what does? He endured so much pain because it was supposed to pay off someday. Were all his efforts so far just make-believe, a kid hiding under the blankets thinking it'll do anything?

No, no, no. It's the others who are wrong. All his suffering until now was meaningful and helpful. He knows what he must do and he's not going to stray from the right path. Those who do are just bringing punishment down onto themselves. And while he's not capable of consciously acknowledging his anger, he can always try to share some "friendly advice" about what happens to those who fight against forces greater than themselves. You can't win those battles. He never won, so of course you can't win them. Stop struggling, it's for your own good.

(Amane-Mikoto parallels? In my Haruka-Mikoto parallels post? It's more likely than you think!)

Saviors and weaklings

You might be thinking that the title says it all, really. Haruka is a weakling, Orekoto is a savior, those are opposites, the end.

Well, yes, but it's not quite that simple.

Haruka in the second trial has also taken on a protector role towards Muu. This is a fairly uncontroversial reading, so let's go take a closer look at their similarities:

-Both Haruka and Orekoto put emphasis on Es not scaring/stressing their charge any further.

-In both cases, what they're looking for is acknowledgement from the one they're protecting and a sense of being useful ("Rely on me, praise me with your song, I am your savior")

-Haruka says that Muu is the reason why he can be who he is now. The same could be said for Bokukoto and Orekoto: without the latter, the former would not be able to remain his current self.

-At the same time, the 'saviors' need their charges, just as if not more than the other way around. Haruka's life has revolved around the concept of mothers since basically forever, and we literally don't know a single thing about Orekoto outside of his role. Honestly, considering he only seems to come out during stressful situations, it's possible even he doesn't know who he is outside of being Mikoto's savior.

Even the structures of Metamorphosis of the Weak and John Doe are similar. Consider:

-The interrogation starts with the prisoner being fairly unthreatening. Mikoto is rather nervous at the start, but as soon as Es starts pretending to entertain the idea that he really hasn't committed any murders, he calms down significantly. -The prisoners feel safe thanks to Es' temporary affirmation, but this is soon swept away by Es themselves. Even as the prisoners become more and more obviously distressed, Es presses on dispassionately.

-Eventually, they become totally overwhelmed by emotion and attempt to kill Es. Haruka is stopped by Milgram's rules, Orekoto isn't.

-At this point, a different prisoner makes their appearance, whether physically or just in conversation, and the rest of the drama revolves around them. In John Doe it's of course Kotoko fighting off Mikoto, after which he's literally unconscious for the rest of the VD (except for one line), and instead the remaining time is dedicated to Kotoko and her deal.

For Metamorphosis, it's when Haruka proclaims that Muu is his real mom and starts talking about their relationship. In both cases, there's a clear shift in focus from the OG character themselves to how their actions would affect Milgram overall (Kotoko offering to stop Mikoto if he attacks again, Haruka threatening suicide).

Well, we can probably agree that Haruka is a savior of a sort. But can we close the circle and bring the comparison back around? Is Orekoto also a weakling of a sort?

To answer this, we'll need to define weakness. For this, I'll actually refer not to Haruka's voice drama's, but to Muu's. Namely, this part in Queen B:

"Es: (…) One-sided violence and mistreatment… I’m sure it was difficult to handle. It’s not unreasonable to come to the conclusion that murder is the only way for a weak person to get out of that. That’s exactly why I forgave you." Muu: Yeah… If I hadn’t done that, I could have died some day."

We hear Haruka argue something similar after Es tears him down, asking "So what should I have done!? Was I supposed to give up on myself too!?" So we could say that a weak person is somebody who's trapped by their circumstances, somebody with the deck stacked so far against them that they have no choice but to take extreme measures.

I think that's pretty much how Orekoto views his own situation. Looking at his parts of MeMe, most of the what-if sentences basically come down to "I don't want to do this, but I can't not do it either". We also have lyrics like "It’s like what’s wrong isn’t wrong" and "Is this selfish?", showing that Orekoto is also full of self-doubt about this being the right thing, but doesn't see any other choice. After all, "Hurting it, holding it down, it doesn’t change anything, does it? Ahhh, It’s the same anywhere I go".

Like Haruka, nothing he tries seems to work and he's desperately trying to survive in any way he can. Whether this "death" is on a purely emotional level or if, like Muu, it's hinting at suicide ("Maybe it’s ok to try to keep on living"), he needs to get away. It doesn't matter anymore if it's "good", so long as it works.

Of course, I'm sure Orekoto wouldn't take well to the idea that he's weak. His breakdown in John Doe was, of course, because of Es pushing Bokukoto, but his rant was almost entirely focused on how weak and pathetic Es was. It seems that in that he resembles Fuuta (who was, after all, the first prisoner to try violence): when he's scared, he tries to intimidate the threat to feel safer.

(Of course, there's something to be said for Haruka also despising his own weakness, even if his reaction to it is to worship others for being different rather than project this hatred onto them.)

(And while we're in the topic of Fuuta, it's worth noting that he's also part of the overall protector theme spanning several characters. He even relates to Haruka and Mikoto directly, in that those two are the ones he picked as "weak" people he needed to look out for)

Muu and Haruka, even before the second trial, they were both weaklings and saviors of the weak (themselves). But this doesn't apply to Mikoto, because the roles are split between the alters. There's a clear separation between the 'good', pitiable, socially acceptable Bokukoto and the 'bad' and violent Orekoto. And you know where else we see something like this? Haruka's MVs.

This is most obvious in Weakness, where the separation is at its starkest, to the point where many people didn't think Haruka's younger self was him at all. Basically, every bad thing in the video is attributed to older Haruka. Li'l Haruka plays happily with his maybe-sister, older Haruka attacks her. Li'l Haruka pets his dog while his mom smiles by his side, until older Haruka bashes its skull in. And of course, in the end older Haruka is so consumed by hatred that he chokes his terrified younger self to death. Not the first time he attacks him(self) either; back at almost the start, older Haruka shoves him into a crayon puddle, with the camera making sure to show kid Haruka's terrified expression and Haruka's cold glare.

(I want to point out the dog scene in particular. Specifically, how the younger Haruka is horrified to find blood on his hands even though he never actually laid hands on the dog. This is quite reminiscent of the scene in MeMe where Mikoto becomes afraid of his reflection's evil expression and falls backwards, only to have the devil card fall on him and corrupt all the water into blood. But an interesting difference is how, while Mikoto not remembering is just a literal retelling of events, the same shouldn't apply to Haruka. And if the girl is the same age in AKAA and in Weakness, suggested by the fact she's dressed the same in both, then she couldn't have been playing with same-age Haruka either.)

In AKAA this divide into a good, young Haruka and a bad, older Haruka is less stark, presumably because after a forgiven verdict Haruka feels less disconnected from his past as a 'good kid'. It's not gone, however. We do see his younger self kill fish and a butterfly, but the harder-hitting murders of the dog (and possibly the girl, it's hard to tell) are left to his 17-years-old self. Not to mention the sequence when his mother opens the door, which is probably the part where Haruka is framed in the most threatening way across the entire MV. That too shows us only the current Haruka, notable because just seconds before it kept switching between the two of them.

At the same time, there's also a disconnect in Weakness between current Haruka and his murders. When we see him killing somebody he actually killed in real life (that is, the girl and the dog), it's followed shortly by him waking up in his bed, framing it all as just a dream. This is very similar to how in MeMe the second scene shows Orekoto killing somebody, with the third starting with Bokukoto gently waking up, completely unaware. There's of course also the line "I’m probably just having a bad dream, I need to wake up soon", which only drives it further home.

Well, I think that wraps up my points. To TL;DR it, some themes to consider are: fixated on past/fixated on future, giving up/trying too hard, dependence on others, wanting to feel useful, black and white thinking re: oneself and viewpoints warped by childhood trauma.

For a bit of extra fun, I'd like to note some shared visual motifs between MeMe, Weakness and All-Knowing and All Agony. There won't be much meaning analysis from me here, so feel free to supply your own.

Music Videos

(Some of the screenshots repeat, that's intentional)

Surrounded by eyes: Most obvious in Weakness, but the Hanged Man in Mikoto's shirt (and less obviously, the Magician) also show something similar.

Water turning into blood: This one is somewhat dificult to show in still screenshots, but it's present in both MeMe, Weakness (when one of Haruka's teardrops fall onto the water) and arguably AKAA as well.

Red skies with a moon visible: Interestingly, this one seems to be associated with younger Haruka in Weakness (most obvious at the very start, when he and older Haruka switch rapidly, with the scene outside the window also changing). There's one very obvious moon in a red sky near the end of MeMe, but there might be another one shown in the Fool card. Lots of Mikoto's cards show circles in the upper corner of the cards (but interestingly in the Hanged Man it's at the bottom, near their head, like an halo). Whether we can consider them all moons is up to speculation, but few of them match the color scheme anyways. Speaking of which, while Weakness almost always uses grey/blue moons with red skies, there are two exceptions: when Haruka is shown killing the dog (blue sky, red moon) and in a piece of official art that shows a red moon on a red sky.

Confusion between indoors and outdoors: If you notice, literally everything in Weakness happens indoors, except for the bits where Haruka is floating in water. Even the forest has floorboards, except for a single scene. The opposite also happens: we see kid Haruka out for a walk with his mom, but they're still inside the house, with the city just being images on the wall. Meanwhile, the mindscape in MeMe shows a ruin (no walls) on an endlessly extending sea and sky (natural-ish settings), but it also reflects the structure of Mikoto's house. So is it inside or outside? Looking at the shoes, both Mikoto and younger Haruka are dressed as though they're outside, but older Haruka is wearing slippers.

Reflections not matching "reality": Note how neither Mikoto nor the coffee table show up in the water in the second image, or how the paintings go from having no reflection to having each other's reflection, with those facing the wrong way. The fourth and fifth images are also an interesting example of the reflections not even matching each other, even though the timing and framing suggest we're still looking at the same scene.

[gingerylangylang1979]

Richonne & Carmy x Sydney Parallels

To some this may be a reach but I’ve been saying for a while that Richonne walked so that Carmy x Sydney can run. Let me get into it. 

1. Grief - Rick lost his wife. But really he had been grieving the loss of their marriage before she died. His best friend (Jon Bernthal) became his greatest enemy and he had to kill him to remove him as a mortal threat. That’s some Cain and Abel type shit. Carmy lost his brother (mysteriously also played by Jon Bernthal). Rick and Carmy are both dealing with the loss of the person that was like a brother or actually was a brother. When they meet Michonne and Sydney they don’t know how to process these women coming into their lives when they are at their lowest. 

2. Partnership - Rick and Michonne are king and queen of the apocalypse. They are the leaders of TF and co-parents to their mixed family. Carmy inherits The Beef but Sydney comes in as second in command. He ends up asking her to be his partner. 

3. Serendipitous meetings - Rick sees Michonne for the first time as what he thinks is a mirage. She comes carrying the baby formula he so desperately needs for Judith. The meeting is strange to say the least. Sydney comes to meet Carmy and he seems surprised and taken aback by her presence even though he chose her to stage. But they met before, in a sense, because Sydney had eaten the best meal she ever had, made by him, before they even met. These women are saviors.

4. Mental Illness - Rick and Carmy are both a hot mess when they meet these women. Rick is delusional and impulsive. Carmy dissociates and has panic attacks. They each make some bad leadership decisions due to their struggles and these women set them straight and keep things aligned when the men can’t.

5. Reuniting - Rick and Michonne always find a way back to each other no matter how dire the circumstance or how long the absence. Sydney comes back to The Beef even when they are still at odds. 

6. They will tell him he’s being a bitch. - Michonne checks Rick constantly and even had to use physical force to subdue him when he was going off the rails. Sydney is not afraid to stand up to Carmy despite him being her superior. She drew her boundaries and left. 

8. The subtlety - While Rick and Michonne were obvious to me their attraction and growing bond wasn’t in your face. If you weren’t paying close attention you may have missed the build up. Carmy and Sydney have low key moments that I think could spark after being seeded over time. It’s not overt romance like you typically see, but a softness when they reach an understanding, or a curious look, makes you wonder. They share so many parallels that it’s easy to view them being compatible if they work through their conflicts. 

9. The unit within the unit - Rick and Michonne were always a team within the team. Before they got together it was always them and then the others. Carmy and Sydney are the only ones in the kitchen with a similar background, they speak the same language, they are the force of change, they are the new ones. 

10. Building something new together - Rick and Michonne decide they are meant to build a new world together. Carmy and Sydney decide to build a new restaurant together. 

11. They ladies have survived without them, but choose to be with them - Michonne kept herself alive in an apocalypse by herself. Rick knows she is okay without him, she knows that too, but they would rather fight the fight together. Sydney was a solo entrepreneur before The Beef and Carmy entrusts her with it when he is away. He knows she is capable and cares.

12. The ladies are missed when they are gone - When Michonne decides to go look for The Governor alone, Daryl pats Rick to reassure him when he doesn’t want her to go. They barely knew each other but he’s staring off into the distance concerned. When she is missing after the assassination of The Saviors he just about loses it. When Sydney quits Carmy tells Tina she’s dressed like her, has a moment with her notebook, says he’s got her prep refusing to admit she is gone. When she shows back up he literally stops everything he’s doing just to take it in and think of what to do next. Next is the proposal, however you want to take that. 

12. The men pick petty ass bitch fights in the beginning - Rick was so antagonistic and suspicious of Michonne in the beginning. He viewed her as a threat. At one point he even had her at gunpoint. Carmy sees Sydney as competition and pulls rank on her very bluntly, he even gets verbally abusive when she makes a mistake. 

13. The ladies make them laugh and smile despite the trauma - Michonne gets Rick to genuinely smile and laugh early on. She teases him and brings a sense of fun. She even gets Carl to lighten up. Sydney punks Carmy and playfully tries to convince him to have her way. He smiles more with her than anyone else. These women are quirky and the men like it. 

14. Found family - Michonne and Sydney are the links that make the found families complete. TF operates best after Michonne arrives. Rick doesn’t choose to give Alexandria a chance until Michonne urges that they need to settle down. Carmy is floundering as leader of The Beef until Sydney shows him a way forward and is his support. He wouldn’t attempt The Bear without her. He doesn’t say anything about taking the money and starting a new venture until she comes back. 

15. Always meant to happen or not? - I think it’s interesting that Gimple says he thought of Richonne S4 going forward. I still think this is a lie and they were planned from S3. It seemed like a setup from day one. Either he is lying or Andrew and Danai put their own spin on it without being directed to make it a brewing thing and Gimple decided to go with it and that it made sense for the story. Storer, Calo, Jeremy, and Ayo say there were/are no plans for Carmy and Sydney to be a thing but the shippers see otherwise. The acting and production choices could easily be interpreted as a budding, slow burn. S2 isn’t supposed to have romance and everyone claims it’s a platonic relationship. Is it possible in a few years we will hear Storer and Calo do a Gimple? 

[thetruearchmagos]

WIP Questionnaire

Thank you kindly for the Tag, @theprissythumbelina !

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

Well, the Setting, probably, which as an answer works for just about any of the WIPs I could name. In theory you could argue Gustav and the Magician, individually and as a 'set' of sorts, technically predate my coming up with the 12 Worlds, but the form they took then has only passing resemblance to their current incarnation.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Ooo, well, I've been thinking I'd probably see about getting something original made, or making something myself as a side thing. I mean, I kinda envision a lot of my WIPs as serial animations in my head anyhow, so I've put more thought into this question than reality is ever likely to require.

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

Well... You know how big this list could be. I love all of them, and at any moment which forces / allows me to dig deeper into any single one of them makes me love them even more. Still, my final choice is an obvious one: Gustav Johann Schmidt, who's been in it since the very start, and who's voice has by now almost become my own whenever he comments on some facet of his world in the same way I would.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

Hmm, well, I've always thought this would go down two tracks. First of all being the classic 'Techno Thriller' crowd, the sorts who like tanks going boom and spies under deep cover: I'd go with things like The Hunt For Red October and Red Storm Rising, both being stalwarts of the genre which have absolutely been personally inspiring. The second track goes down the wider book / writing community, or at least those looking for 'genre fiction' and all that, who might discover the 12 Worlds more on its fantastical or worldbuilding grounds than for its techno thriller nature: I don't really 'understand' what I'd mean by this cohort myself as much, but I guess it could include series like ASOIAF, possibly.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Well... If we're speaking in the past tense, as far as things that have already happened go I'd put forwards "making sure the worldbuilding exists and isn't utterly contradictory", since there's too little writing down so far to count for a big struggle. Dates are hard, and measuring things on the order of decades to a century leaves me with a lot of uncomfortable dead space on one hand, and a bunch of events clustered together on the other. Untangling this has to happen before the writing does, to me, and it's gonna be hellish.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Uhh... Technically, Snake In The Sandbox (Gustav's third and least brought up WIP) features two animals! One's a snake which literally scares G's shirt off when he finds it in his tent, and the other's some sort of desert lizard the 18th Corps adopts as its mascot.

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

Oh, probably their respective combat vehicles more than anything, though long distance stuff gets done by plane / aeroship, and getting between Worlds means ships for everyone. Non military types might get their own car, or plane.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

Technically brought this up already, but the answer's worldbuilding. It's always worldbuilding. Though within that category, I'm technically supposed to be writing up a piece on the UC' policy towards Goilac / Nouvoulouis pre SSAW, but... I have been having a lazy weekend.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

Big flashy boom booms and cunning military tactics, strategy, and leadership on the one hand for sure, but I'd like to think the depth, history, and life that exists within the 12 Worlds might have some appeal to readers.

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

Published novel, or really a few considering how many there are already for the 12 Worlds. Then... Well, I think I've got a few ideas in me for the Setting yet.

Anyone fancy a boardgame?

And that's that! Tagging @athenswrites @hessdalen-globe @caxycreations @sanguine-arena @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @thatndginger and anyone who'd like to take part!

[twstgameplay]

Hey mods! While trying to pull for playful land ace early in the event, I wound up spooked by a playful land Kalim, and proceeded to read his card and then Freak Out as I'm a ftp whose faves are cater and lilia. I've just Had birthday cater completely unlocked and maxed for years (he was the first SSR I pulled for) and club lilia is almost there. I also have dorm jamil at 10/10 and 100 already for utility. I feel like I just got handed a golden ticket.

My question for you is- I don't play jp and try to keep off social media. Are there like Obvious, Established ways people are building this team either in terms of card 5 or a different one from the above 4 that I should heads up on? Thanks for any help you can provide at all!

Hi! Congrats on the Playful Kalim! You pulled a really good card, and even nicer that he pairs well with your faves!

Playful Kalim is best for Cosmic Basic because his duo element is Cosmic, and he has a 3-turn ATK UP M to boost his duo. You can use him in Cosmic Attack, but there are more teams out there that use him in Cosmic Basic.

You actually have really good cards to optimize Playful Kalim. From what I've seen, team comps for Kalim generally tend to have the following patterns:

Kalim+Club Cater + second duo pair + 5th card that duos with Kalim

Kalim + Birthday Cater+Club Lilia + 2 other cards

For the first pattern, the team I often come across is this or some variation of it:

Playful Kalim / Club Cater / Dorm Malleus / Dorm Lilia / Dorm Jamil

Club Cater duos with Kalim, so they make for a really good duo pair. Meanwhile, Dorm Malleus+Lilia is placed there so that Kalim's ATK buddy, Lilia, is in the team. You want that the last card duos with Kalim so that you can activate his ATK buff within 3 turns, if you plan a 3-turn kill. Any card with a decent ATK stat and/or ATK buddies that duos with Kalim can work. I list Dorm Jamil because he's the one that comes up most often. Plus, you have him raised.

For the second pattern, there's a bit more variety in the teams I've seen, but I'll link you to two teams that have been actually used to hit S4:

Playful Kalim / Birthday Cater / Club Lilia / Dorm Leona / Dorm Vil

Playful Kalim / Birthday Cater / Club Lilia / Dorm Malleus / Crewel

This one is a lot better for a stronger Kalim duo because Birthday Cater has DMG UP L to ally Cosmic. However, you will need to do a 4-turn kill since you need to leave an extra turn to activate Kalim's ATK UP. Personally, I think replacing Dorm Leona and Vil with Dorm Kalim and Jamil might be a bit better, if only because there's more power buddies.

S4 also doesn't strictly rely on 5-duo teams, so long as you have a strong overkill. So teams like the Crewel one come up. Crewel gives Kalim a 3-turn Critical, so that Kalim can deal even more damage.

Hope this helps, and good luck with the Kalim usage!

~ 🐙

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Reviews are in: I'm giving this book 8.5 out of 10 stars in its category (which we shall call Light and Kinky Reading for a Summer's Afternoon). One star deducted for having way more typos and formatting errors than I feel like a published book should have -- like it was enough that I was actively distracted by it on multiple occasions -- and .5 for minor annoyances: nobody has a refractory period at all, Tristan goes from the back door to the front with his fingers and tongue at least twice and makes my OCD-haver eyelid twitch, I didn't vibe with him randomly calling Isolde "honey" and "baby" during the sex scenes, and I'm pretty sure I caught the phrase "pulsing organ" in here at least once. 😅

I read the whole thing in a few hours. It felt like reading AO3 fic, in a good way (in spite of the obvious comparison to 50 Shades it might inspire). If this is one of those "started-out-as-fic" novels, it was not glaringly obvious, but if I had to guess the fandom I'd say Hannibal AU based on a couple of suspicious lines. (Then again, I suppose it technically is still fic. Of an Arthurian legend.)

Warnings for violence (main character has war-related PTSD and lots of vivid flashbacks, plus there's violent drama within the main story) and America-typical foreign war meddling (in a Princess Diaries-esque made up country.) There's some undernegotiated kink: the first few sex scenes take place spontaneously and before the sub has established a safeword; it's still all very consensual. There are safewords established otherwise and aftercare is repeatedly built into the story in a way I really like. Also there is just. So much alcohol. I'm hoping the dom's functional alcoholism is going to be dealt with at some point in the trilogy: some things hint at it, so fingers crossed.

The way this book is structured is that in the first half Tristan is falling in love (and kink) with Mark, then in the second half they're apart and he's falling in love (and much milder kink) with Isolde. Riiiiiight at the end of the book they all meet up, and yes I will immediately be buying the second one so I can actually get to the throuple shenanigans.

(Also for anyone who's read Disrepute this story made me laugh with how closely it hit the same beats as what I was doing with Susanna, except in this case the "sub who didn't realize his dom was in an open engagement with a woman and is mad about it" also ends up sleeping with and falling for the fiancée too, which I kind of played with but ultimately wasn't willing to do with an OC in fanfic.)

Anyway yeah if you already know you have the same fic tastes as what I read and write in terms of E-rated stuff, I definitely recommend this.

[clawbehavior]

Hi and happy new year 🌺🌺🌺

For the wip game:

I'm really intrigued to know more about these : 3,8 and 13 (sorry for being greedy 😅)

Please

happy new year anon!

not only do i love that you asked about more than one WIP (i am greedy with you), i loooove these choices because i just updated the work that is #3, so i'm knee deep in it emotionally. it's 'everything everywhere all at once', my money lender au! i have 5-10 drafts going at any time for this story because writing a new chapter helps me simplify the plot. then i have to write that down and cross reference against the clues i already published.

eeaao is very dear to my heart because it was my second foray into fanfic writing after more than a decade and my first multi chapter work. i get a unique thrill from reader engagement with it. finishing it is going to be a life accomplishment for me because of the amount of time i've spent on it (a year) and the very real plans i made in september to discontinue it. we're all good now though, with things finally falling into place for the remaining 1.5 chaps.

i'm posting a snippet from y's take on things which is his version of eeao, made unique by the context he brings to their interactions. i love this scene so much that i actually use it as a treat, telling myself i can publish it only if i finish the main work lmao. so i'm THRILLED you asked about it anon, thank you 🥰🥰

i will reply to the other WIPs in your asks shortly but for now, enjoy the snippet under the break.

after the breakup, yohan has wet dreams like never before. he dreams of gaon. of laying him on the bed with reverant hands and tying him to it so he can't leave. of ravishing him while gaon moans and cries and begs for more. of releasing gaon at the end, only for him to climb into yohan's lap greedy for kisses and with whispered promises that he'll never leave, that he'll stay by yohan's side no matter what. because he loves yohan.

the dreams are incomprehensible without a structured timeline or form. he cooks for gaon and feeds him with his hands in some. he binds gaon's wrists together under the younger man's besotted gaze in another. they drive down an endless road at night, gaon curled into the passenger seat, his forever companion. 

only once does yohan dream something so terrible that he does something unbelievably cruel in real life to offset the feeling and leads a man to believe his family is burning alive in their home to prove a point. and the thing he dreams of is raising a family with gaon. 

he wakes up thrashing, in sweat stippled sheets twisted around his waist and legs. stumbles out of bed and into clothes and away from a home saturated with gaon's presence. for two whole weeks after that, he avoids his house. isaac picks up on this strange energy within the first week, becomes downright meddlesome by the third. yohan rebuffs his well-intentioned efforts and throws himself into his work, into the hunt, the remaining stronghold of his life because it's where gaon cannot be found. 

or so he thinks. he's just wrapped up a successful negotiation that gives him significant editorial oversight over a prominent but heavily indebted news company, and is leaving the VIP section of the club when he sees him. gaon's on the lower floor, sound and strobing lights separating him from yohan. he's sitting on a bar stool, talking to another man. being propositioned, it's obvious. the man has his hands jammed in his pockets but has leaned close, eagerly making a point and staring at gaon with a desire yohan knows well. 

how could he not? gaon looks lovely, even though he's tied up in a suit while everyone around him is in clubbing clothes. he's swirling his drink one handedly and listening with his head cocked to the side, inviting but not reciprocating. 

from his vantage point on the upper floor, yohan catalogues all this in the brief look he allows himself. then he walks straight out of the bar and to his waiting car. he'd let gaon so could live his life. without yohan. ergo, with someone else. 

yohan's many things, but what he's not is unselfaware. so he doesn't bother berating himself in the time it takes to switch his attire for a different kind of hunting outfit, black sweats and a hoodie. 

gaon's place looks the same, yohan notes from where he's hidden by the shadows across the street. it's also dark. 

which doesn't mean anything, he tells himself with a faint tinge of desperation. gaon could've gone bar hopping. but yohan remembers the closed line of his body even as let the man come too close, how gaon's wrists were concealed by two layers when he bared his skin willingly for yohan. 

maybe yohan wasn't as self aware as he told himself.

this line of thought is immediately blown apart when gaon rounds the bend with his friend, cheeks flushed by alcohol and the cold. yohan crushes his cigarette under his sneaker and stares hungrily. gaon catches yoon soohyun when she stumbles -- a show, yohan thinks meanly, given how sturdy her boots are -- and pulls her into an affectionate one-armed hug, tugging her up the stairs and into his apartment. 

soohyun is my oldest and closest friend, yohan recalls as he watches the house. the bedroom light turns on. we're not romantically involved, nor have we ever been. 

platonic, yohan reminds himself. but a platonic friend could fill a sexual need just fine, albeit insufficiently. this is good, he decides. it means gaon's moving on. somewhat. and not with the stranger from the bar.

he's not fooling himself that the thought of gaon pushed up against his kitchen counter by someone else, for someone else to undo his tie inbetween laughing kisses and mess up his carefully styled hair, tug his shirt out of his trousers filled yohan with sick violence. it was the sex, but it was more than that. it was knowing how unselfconscious and uninhibited gaon was during sex. the experience opened him up in such a way that a part of him sunk into his surroundings, including the body of his lover. yohan felt it every time he left gaon, that gaon had deposited a piece of himself in yohan's hands, permanently changing them both in the process.

the lights in the bedroom go out. 

yohan swallows. 

a moment later, the living room lights turn on, a lithe frame passing near the windows before everything goes dark again. it means he hasn't moved on yet, yohan thinks, drawing his armor around himself again. but the hurt comes from deep within, a feeling breaking him apart like a tree root piercing concrete. 

yohan should've pushed him away earlier. before he got attached. he slinks into the alley and heads home, feeling worse than better.

and then one day, just as chaotically as gaon walked out of yohan's life, he walks back in.

[elysian-drops]

You got me really curious when you said 'a very V way of handling'. I'm thinking of lots of possibilities but I bet none of them true haha. Also I wonder will they reach a point where Harri won't leave his side even if she can? Will she stay with him just because she wants to? And my other question is that will there be a power balance between them(like maybe 5-10 years later)? I think I'd like to see Harri to challenge V in every way. I imagine her being the 'Dark Lady' eventually but not losing the 'light' inside of her so she becomes even more powerful.

Hi there!

Oooo 👀👀 Well if you want to share some theories, I'm always down to hear them! And who knows, maybe one of them will be right (of course, I won't say if they are or not 😂). 

As for your first question, I would say yes— or at least, she wouldn't leave willingly/if she had a choice. She's already sort of getting there, as evidenced by how comfortable she's gotten to be around him (sleeping in the same bed, laughing at the beginning part of their duel (before, ya know, things got out of hand), etc) and you'll see more of her thoughts on V/what she wants out of their relationship in this next chapter or so. But it's also difficult to say whether their relationship is something that she would've chosen if given the option in the beginning, or it's something she's being conditioned towards wanting, you know? This is why I tagged it as 'Mildly Dubious Consent'— it's hard to make these judgments of whether Harri's wants are autonomous or not when these wants are being formed within the context they are, if that makes sense? This is especially important to consider given that V has enforced the narrative that he's the only one for her/she'll be rejected or despised by others if they learn what she is. To that end though— because this does sound a bit cynical— I will say she certainly has feelings for him which are bound to intensify the longer they are around one another.

Of course, this ties into your second question! The thing with Harri and V is that their power dynamic is rather fluid. While it does tend to skew in V's favour most of the time, there have been several subtle instances where Harri has held power over him. Some of the ones I can think of are when she has information V doesn't, manipulating him to get what she wants, leaving during certain situations and making him come to her, etc. But in terms of it evening out and making the dynamic more balanced, I'll say to an extent, yes. There will always be a degree of inherent imbalance due to the nature of their relationship (V being the original soul and Harri being the horcrux), but Harri will absolutely gain more leverage in the future as she comes into her own and develops the confidence to challenge him outright. You'll see this shift in the next couple of chapters, but it'll get even more obvious later on. I do have a ~10 year time-skip planned, so you'll see what I mean! As for the 'Dark Lady' bit, it's an interesting idea, but my lips are sealed lol.

Anyway, thanks for the questions! I also love getting to answer them 💕