#Endeavour: passenger

[oeuvrinarydurian]

It’s a Wednesday Special.

This tiny clip made me think of @astridcontramundum’s “many examples of meta” post.

I was going to re-blog hers with it, but I can’t find it, so it’ll be a less exciting standalone. 

Endeavour: Passenger Opening titles.

Creepytown.

[morsesnotes]

[too-antigonish]

I love this shot and it's funny because looking at it made me go back to my folder of screenshots from Passenger. I realized that the director (who is apparently Jim Field Smith) has a thing for using straight lines in his compositions--because the images below were also two of my favorites from the episode:

“Thank the Creatives Thursday” Part One (with bonus Thursday Thursday content)

From s5 Passenger

I love how this shot is set up/framed, and all the green tones.

One more reason this series draw me back again and again (besides the allure of Evans…I’m not completely shallow. Oh wait, I am. Stay tuned)

[xserpx]

Shaun Evans as Endeavour Morse

ENDEAVOUR 5.3 Passenger

[upthelagan]

Endeavour. Passenger.

[lilacxquartz]

part 4 of 19 of kinktober: dreams

bill cipher x reader

plot: you couldn’t truly escape bill, not even when you slept and tonight, he had a special sort of visit arranged — a/n: there is some plot to this one — themes: yan!bill cipher, dreams/mindscape, teasing, orgasm denial, gn!reader, dubcon — w.c: ~1.6k

kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3 • part 2 >

Sleep was something of a fifty-fifty endeavour for you.

In the best case scenario, you would wake up fully rested with no further issues, but in the worst case? You’d see him there; his looming presence haunting the darkest depths of your mind—forcing you to remember just how much control he truly had over you—again and again.

For a while, he left you alone, letting your mind recover for just long enough to be lulled into a false sense of security. Tonight however, just as you finally were about to fall sleep… you got a bad feeling.

Bill was waiting for you and you could tell.

(It was all too good to be true. You were never free to begin with, you silly thing.)

Your dreamscape itself was pretty simple, as far as you understood it. Your mind presented memories in a large paper calendar with core fragments highlighted in a red marker. A lot of what was stored was mundane, but if you flipped the pages back far enough, you could relive the one and only time that you allowed Bill to get close to you.

It wasn’t just highlighted in red marker, but it had been tampered with; decorated around the borders by Bill himself. Small yellow triangles scratched in glittering ink and etchings of singular eyes familiar to his own.

A memory locked away of you being just nineteen, maybe twenty, wasting away over the summer back home from college. You didn’t have much going on and the temptation to let Bill in was stronger than ever.

You shouldn’t have done so…

(…But you did.)

You hated that memory; a sign of momentarily lapsed weakness captured and replayed for as long as you lived. Dreams were something you didn’t have anymore otherwise. It was either nothingness or it was something like this.

You were exhausted.

The memory was always the same, too.

You watched on from within the shadows as though you were a helpless passenger with no control of the vehicle; witnessing the time that you let Bill in when you shouldn’t have. His sudden appearance and mocking demeanour betrayed no hint at him likely anticipating it at the time—so smug and prideful—a willing victim fallen to manipulation.

It was a humiliating sight to witness as your past self became so flustered and overwhelmed like soft putty in his hands. You had no choice but to endure this replaying memory, watching as his arm snaked towards your lower body, going places where you should never have let him go.

Curse that… entity.

That wretched demon.

Why did he have to make you relive this scene again and again? Was it because he knew about your struggles to get off in the waking world? You betted that he did. Watching from the shadows as you tried to touch yourself to relive that moment, only to be shamed by your own self out of doing so.

You couldn’t ever follow through.

Not when he was potentially watching.

(And you would hate for him to tell you that he told you so, that you can’t help but still want him back. Oh no, no, no. The very least you could do was to deny him that pleasure.)

While distracted, you accidentally gulped just loud enough for your voice to bleed into the memory. Shit. You managed to avoid him for so long by enduring and keeping quiet, but now you had inadvertently doomed yourself to something else.

Bill dislodged from your past self, leaving them to sulk back onto the floor. His voice was deceptively enthusiastic as always, emanating an eerie whimsy, “Well, well, well. Look who’s all red faced from spying on what was supposed to be a private moment? Who knew that it would get you so worked up?”

“I’m not…” you trailed off, feeling less than confident in your reply, “I'm not worked up.”

“No?” he taunted, sounding disbelieving before pointing his cane back to your dream self, still sulking but otherwise panting and recollecting their breath from stolen pleasure. “I think that you’re lying…! Or, no… Could it be that you’re—that you’re jealous? Oh wow, now this is rich!”

You didn’t dare reply but you did freeze a little as he resumed his actions on you instead. This was a new development. He pushed his cane in between your legs, willing you to clench tight against it with an unseen force before wriggling it around long enough to elicit a pleasured response.

“Oh, don’t tell me that this is all it takes to get you going these days?” Bill mocked, slightly pumping and stirring the stick around your clenching form. “I didn’t think that you would be so sensitive, so desperate and dare I say… needy? You really are full of surprises!”

Finally finding your backbone, you attempted to put a stop to the madness, “Get out of my head, Bill.”

He could only let out a dry, humourless laugh before sliding out the cane from your teased sex at last.

“Silly you!” he beamed once more, pushing you up against the wall from that same hidden power from before. “Why not just admit it, huh? You actually kind of liked that! Didn’t you?”

“N-no,” you denied with an unconvincing stutter, “it’s n-not like that.”

Bill however didn’t waver, slipping his hands beneath the fabric of your crotch, reaching to feel the evidence of your arousal. “Wow! So excited and just from a little touch! If you didn’t like that, then why are you reacting that way, huh?”

“Stop—“ you tried to punch back, your own words betraying you as you in fact didn’t want him to cease.

“—yeah, yeah,” he sneered, pulling back at your request, but you could tell that it was far from over.

You watched as he floated around with some sort of purpose, the once nostalgic interior of your old bedroom fading away into a blank void, along with your past self dissolving into nothingness.

“You can pretend to hate me now,” Bill continued after a moment of tense silence, “but deep down, I know you crave a release, don’t you? And hey, I’ll tell you what. Give in to me and I’ll leave you alone for a whole year.”

“What’s the catch?” you wearily sighed.

Bill laughed heartily to himself before propping the came back to where it was, his voice thoroughly amused, “Aw, nothing! Why do you always think there’s a catch?” he asked, lazily stroking at your sex, seemingly taking pleasure in watching you writhe, “I can be nice… sometimes! As long as you can admit that you can’t live without me… then I’ll give you that and more.”

“You know that I’ll never do that,” you shot back.

“Still playing hard to get?” he asked, swirling the wand around some more. “Not a problem. I can always rekindle that spark. How about I remind you exactly why, that for a while, you couldn’t stop thinking about me all the time…” he trailed off slightly, his voice temporarily fond before returning back to ridiculing, “…or maybe I’ll tease your past version who did like me over and over. Or better yet! Maybe I’ll just stick around in your head forever. You’re too much fun to mess with, after all.”

The atmosphere in the void pocket then dropped to something else, something thick with danger and perhaps even longing possession. His form faded towards you, flashing up tight against you in stark, jarring clarity.

With a wide, manic eye, his voice became low, methodical and even suggestive, “Let’s face it, you’ll never get rid of me… at least not fully. I’ll always be a part of you and because of that… I’m… not… going… anywhere!”

His words built up in slowly charged pulses, practically erupting with menacing glee by the final word. In a way, you had to admit it, he was good at messing with you.

You had barely any time to process what he was saying however, before his hands were back to where they were. He stroked at you with more passionate fervour that time, stealing occasionally uttered moans that broke out of your lips, sending radiating waves of red that coloured your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Aw, look at ya,” Bill caught on, catching the note of your slipped whimper by holding one hand to the side of his linear surface, as though taking it into his body. “So confused, but so aroused…! Oh, that’s adorable!”

You bit your lip as the pleasure within you rose with simmering force, feeling a tightening stir boiling from within your lower abdomen. He knew exactly what he was doing—getting you all hot like that—writhing and squirming at his will and yet, as he drove you closer towards the edge, he stopped. Bill abruptly pulled away from you and didn’t allow you to have the final push that was otherwise needed for you to come undone. Being as cruel as he was, he yanked his hand back and hovered ever so slightly above you, feeding you a look of pure, utter contempt.

“Not so fast, silly. Looks like you got a little too excited, huh?” he laughed, propping his cane that time underneath your chin before forcing you to look up at him, “you know the drill: I’ll only play nice when you can finally admit that you need me… until then, enjoy waking up all alone, frustrated and confused.”

And with that, you tore upright into the waking world a cold, clammy sweat feeling angry. The last remnants of an already fleeting warmth evaporated away into nothingness—leaving you to wonder if it actually did happen—but if Bill had forced you to forget the pleasure he had caused.

Knowing him, that’s exactly what he did.

Just to be cruel.

[oeuvrinarydurian]

Crushed like a bug. Shhhhhhiiiitttt.

Following @librawritesstuff ‘s lead from last week - and given the continuing lack of HNW content (ahem… c'mon Evans…) I propose another One Word Wednesday

A reminder...

ONE WORD WEDNESDAY

Pick a photo or a gif that reflects the word of the day and reblog with tags in this thread (coz we want to see all the choices 😉)

Today’s word: SHHHH (IIIIIIIITTT)

Obviously if you have new (🤞) or recycled HNW content I am ALWAYS (repeat ALWAYS) happy to see it

[dstryvampres]

Riders on the Storm

Neil Lewis x Reader

Summary: you decide to pick up a hitchhiker, he gives back a generous payment.

Warnings: car sex, semi-public sex, I misuse the geographic term of badlands(sorry geology lovers), p in v, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: don't pick up hitchhikers please, this is fiction, i hope you guys are smart enough to already know this...

Eight hours. That’s how long you’ve been cruising through the badlands of North America. At some point the eyes, after staring at the same scenery for so long, start playing tricks on you. They are small tricks. Inconsequential, even. A ploy to entertain you made by your own brain. Yet, they are just enough to piss you off, drive you a little crazy. You’ll see something flash across the road, a black blob that never existed, maybe a cactus in the distance that when you look away and then back is gone.

That’s what you think Neil is initially, another one of the tricks being played by your mind to fill some space, but he doesn’t disappear when you get closer. In fact, he gets all the more real as you approach. Arm stretched out in front of him, thumbs up, a hitch-hiker, clad in a pair of dusty jeans and a off-white tee, backpack slung over his shoulder. How long has he been out here? How dehydrated is he? Who hitchhikes anymore? You roll down your window and stop your car in front of him.

“Where are you going?” Neil asks, before you can get a word out.

You debate telling him a fake destination, you never know who’s out there after all. There’s a look of loss and sorrow in his eyes that makes you pity him, almost like a kicked puppy. You decide to tell him the truth.

“Vegas.”

“Well, I’m headed down that way too, not as far, I just need you to drop me off in Salt Lake City,” Neil pleads. He’s got these big blue watery eyes. How could you say no? “I’ll pay for gas?” 

“Get in,” you sigh out, unlocking your car.

Neil looks enthralled by the news, basically running over to the passengers seat and hopping into the car. You put the car back into drive before speeding off from where you first met and picked up Neil. He introduces himself to you, and out of courtesy you do the same. Soon enough the car settles into an almost awkward silence, quiet beside the car’s radio softly playing music. Neil stares out the window, hugging his backpack to his chest.

“So, why are you going down to Vegas?” Neil asks, breaking the silence. 

You jump up a little, thinking that he had fallen asleep.

“Bachelorette party. Why are you going to Salt Lake?” you hum, trying to play your previous surprise off.

“They’re hosting a pokemon tournament down there,” Neil smiles, seeming to find the contrast between your two respective reasons amusing. “Is it your bachelorette party?”

“God, no,” you say, shaking your head.

Neil seems to find your response even more amusing, starting to laugh. His laugh was warm and spread throughout the car, leading you to join him in his fit of amusement. 

“What do you even do at a pokemon tournament?” you ask, once you’ve gained more composure.

“Battle it out with cards,” Neil states, only leading to him bursting out in more laughter.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye. The way his eyes crinkle up as he laughs, and how he throws his head back.

“What do you do at a bachelorette party?” Neil retorts, shaking his head trying to stop himself from laughing again.

“Get drunk and, if I’m lucky this weekend, get laid,” you respond, increasing your speed back up to the speed limit.

“Well, it seems we both have equally exciting endeavours this weekend,” Neil says, reaching over to just barely increase the music so that it’s audible as you talk.

“Yours is far more exciting than mine,” you joke, rolling your eyes. “Actually, can I ask what you’re doing hitchhiking down to Salt Lake?”

“Uh- yeah… My car broke down about a mile back from where you picked me up. It was a piece of shit that was already giving up on me before I took it on the interstate. I was like halfway to the city, in the middle of nowhere, when it just started to slow to a stop. I heard some sputtering from the engine and before I know it I’m just stopped on the side of the road,” Neil pouts as he tells you the story, letting out a deep sigh accompanied with the shake of his head when he finishes it up.

“I’m sorry. Do you know how you’re planning on getting home then?” You ask, now genuinely worried about your passenger princess.

“My friends are going to drive me back up, no worries,” Neil offers you a smile, seemingly charmed by your worry of him.

For the next hour, you and Neil let the radio of your car do most of the talking. This time it’s a comfortable silence that settles. The initial fear of him murdering you on this deserted road slipping away as the minutes pass. If he wanted to murder you, he would’ve already!

“Can we pull into the gas station, I’m running low,” it’s not really a question, you’re just telling him why you’re veering off the interstate.

Neil hums out in response, seeming to have fallen asleep, or in an adjacent state, during the hour or two gap of silence. He stretches out, making sure not to inch too much into your own personal space, then rubs at his eyes.

“Sleep well?” you tease, only earning a soft grunt in response.

You pull into one of the pumps, turning off the car and hopping out of your car, towards the pump. Neil follows you slowly. You quirk an eyebrow at the man, but he just ruffles through his backpack. Once he’s pulled out his wallet he locks eyes with you, staring blankly for a few seconds at your confused expression.

“I promise to pay for gas,” Neil deadpans, fishing his credit card out of his wallet.

“I thought you were joking.”

“Why would I be joking about that?” Neil inserts his card into the machine attached to the pump before you can even respond.

“Neil you don’t have to,” you say, tilting your head in pity.

“Well, I don’t know how else I could repay you for a favour this big,” Neil starts to fill up your car.

“I’ll get you snacks, a drink maybe? I can’t let you pay for gas, it’s so expensive,” you're almost whining as you say this, stamping your foot lightly.

“Fine,” is all Neil says in response.

You wait for Neil to finish filling up your car, leaned up against your car, arms crossed. It’s almost embarrassing that you’re just letting some stranger pay for your gas, but you can’t complain about the view he’s giving you. His bicep flexed as he held the oil pump, looking around at the scenery. Back turned to you for a moment, and you can see the bones and muscles of his back move around as he stretches briefly. Then, you get to admire his smile as he puts the pump back and removes his card.

“Do you want to go in now?” you ask, watching as Neil puts his card back into his wallet.

Neil nods, and you lock the car before heading over to the small convenience store attached to the gas pump. You and Neil split up, seeming to have different priorities when it comes to snacks and drinks. Caffeine is what you desperately need to complete the next eight hours of this trip, so you wander over to the energy drink section. You settle on a pacific punch monster, before turning your attention to a snack. Something light perhaps? No, you’re starving. Gas station food is never the best, and you likely wouldn’t have eaten anything here if you noticed earlier. Alas, you were too busy focusing on driving and now you must settle. 

It seems that Neil was also relatively hungry, as you found him in the refrigerated food section. A Dr Pepper tucked under one arm, and a bag of puffy cheetos under the other. He gives you a polite smile before going back to browsing.

You decide the best option here is a sandwich, picking it up and then going around to wander until Neil is finally done. Sometime along the way you pick up a sweet treat, and stack that in your small pile of three. 

“I think I’m good now,” Neil says, walking over to you with two taquitos now added to his collection.

You insist on paying for both of you at the cash register, much to Neil’s chagrin, and head out to the car. Situating both of your drinks in respective cup holders before heading back onto the interstate. Sandwich you bought is situated in one hand, the steering wheel in your other. The sandwich is truly nothing to write home about but it satisfies your persistent hunger enough. It’s about three fourths of the way through the sandwich that you notice the dark clouds looming ahead of you. You’ve never been a huge fan of driving through storms, but maybe you’ll get lucky and this one will be light. A sprinkle of rain before clearing out for the rest of the trip.

Neil opens up his Dr Pepper, breaking the silence in the car. He utters out a soft sorry before he’s gulping down the drink, washing down the taquitos he just ate.

“Were the taquitos good?” you ask, taking a bite of your own food.

“They’re good for gas station food, never really have to worry about them,” Neil replies, wiping his upper lip off from the Dr Pepper residue.

You him out in response, mouth full of gas station sandwich. There’s now a soft pitter patter of rain hitting the car.

“Hope it doesn’t get any worse,” you pray around the sandwich.

“I mean it looks like it might…” Neil muses, quickly adding on a ‘but I don’t think it will!’ when he notices your eyebrows furrow.

Unfortunately for you, Neil was right. It had gotten so bad that you didn’t feel comfortable driving, pulling over on the side of the road to wait this out. Luckily for you, this gave you time to snack on your little treat. Unluckily, you were now stuck in a car for God knows how long until conditions got better.

Thunder rumbles outside.

“Yknow, because you bought me food, I feel like I didn’t repay you enough,” Neil frowns, stuffing his cheetos into his bag, seemingly not up for them anymore.

Maybe it was the long drive both ahead and behind you, or possibly being stuck in the rain. Could’ve even been the gas station sandwich you had just finished. Yet, for some reason, you replied to Neil’s small statement with:

“I got a way you can repay me.”

Leaning over the centre console, eyes fluttering closed. There's a small pause, and for a moment you feel like Neil’s going to reject you, laugh this weird situation off completely. Then you feel his lips on yours. It takes two seconds before you feel like you two are melding together. Your whole body feels fuzzy and warm, despite the rain pouring outside and the blast of the A/C. Neil breaks away for a second, panting. His pupils are wide, almost engulfing the blue iris of his eyes fully.

“We should move to the back,” Neil suggested, tilting his head towards the backseat.

You climbed over the centre console and into the backseat, Neil following you over as soon as you were seated. Once he too was seated, he placed his hands onto your thighs. Rubbing his hands up and down the exposed skin. He looks at your thighs for a couple seconds before looking back up at you. One of his hands goes up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer to his own face. Softly, a brush against the area, he places a kiss on both corners of your mouth, then kisses you again.

Neil eventually drags you into his lap, or as close as you can get to sitting in his lap while cramped in a car. You sip your tongue into Neil’s mouth as he gives your thigh a squeeze. You moan into his mouth, your own hands navigating their way down his chest and to the hem of his jeans as Neil works up your thighs to the hem of your shorts.

You both hopelessly fumble with the other's pant button and zipper. Now just a mix of soft moans, sweaty hands, and tongue. You’re able to push Neil’s pants down to his knees first, leading you to help him slide your own shorts down. Both of you pull away from the kiss to admire the other, and just as a treat for Neil, you slip your shirt off exposing your lack of a bra. Neil’s eyes widen as he admires your body, stopping himself midway through taking off his pants to do so. You palm at the bulge in his underwear, trying to encourage him to finish taking his pants off. Which is surprisingly successful.

Thunder crashes in the distance.

Neil starts trailing soft kisses down your neck and collarbones as he plays with your breasts, massaging them and tweezing at the nipples. You let moans slip into the air of the car. The windows have started to fog up, giving you slight peace of mind that no one who passes by would likely be able to see either of you. Though, with how hard the rain is coming it would be hard to see anything.

Lightning illuminates behind you.

You move to take your own panties off, hoping it will be enough to get Neil to just fuck you already. Pushing his hands and lips off of you before leaning back into the leather seats of your car before spreading your own lips with your fingers to expose your wet cunt. Locking eyes with Neil. He lets out a sigh, shaky and needy despite the fact that no one is touching him. He stares hungrily at your cunt, licking at his lips.

“Fuck baby,” Neil pants out, slowly taking off his own underwear.

His cock slaps against his stomach once freed. It's thick, not so much long, but very thick. You can’t imagine just how good the stretch is going to be once he's inside of you.

“Go ahead,” you urge, you’re sure you're wet enough that he doesn’t even need to finger you.

“Are you sure?” Neil asks, eyebrows furrowed. His face seems genuinely worried, but the head of his cock is already lined up to your entrance.

You roll your eyes and nod, and not a second goes by before Neil pushes his cock into you. The intrusion alone makes you see white for a few seconds. You let out a small yelp, he’s so thick. He pushes himself to the hilt immediately, letting out a groan as your heat encloses tightly around his cock. 

“So tight and wet for me,” Neil moans out, placing a hand on the seat to stabilise.

“You’re so thick,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment desperately trying to adjust to his girth before Neil starts moving.

Neil gives you a couple more seconds before he’s slowly pumping in and out of you, consistently spearing you on his cock. His is definitely the thickest cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of being split on. Devastating to know you didn’t even have to get to Vegas to get the best dick of the week.

Everytime Neil rocks back into you, you let out a small squeal. Somehow each time he comes back into your cunt, he feels almost just as thick as when he first entered you. As he thrusts into you, building a steady pace, you seem to get wetter. Making the task of taking his cock a little easier, but also building a small puddle of your slick onto your leather seats. His cock glides across your sensitive spots each time, before his tip presses into your g-spot.

Neil is panting above you, alternating between closing his eyes in pleasure, staring at his own cock coming in and out of you, or looking at your own expressions of pleasure. Your moans fill up the air in the car as your hands scratch at the seats for purchase. 

Neil’s pace starts to increase, soon becoming rapid enough that you bump your head on the door of the car once. You wrap your legs around his hips, head becoming fuzzy as your own high is rapidly approaching.

“Gonna cum, Neil, gonna cum,” you babble out, reaching down a hand to rub at your clit.

“Me too. Pretty girl, where do you want it?” Neil gasps out, placing both hands on your hips forcing you into a position to take him in deeper.

“Tummy,” you groan, feeling your high on your heels.

You cum around Neil’s cock, screaming out his name as you see stars. Neil pulls out of you, disappointing you only slightly. Ropes of cum land on your tits and stomach. Soon enough both of you are coming down from your high, Neil slumping against the door adjacent to you.

That was definitely payment enough.

Taglist: @paradiseprincesss @luluartpop @xanaxiii @galactict3a

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

Lacking Data

Collecting data and seeking insight in everything significant to his work, has always been Sherlock’s highest priority. And he’s been quite successful in his endeavours too. But when it came to personal matters regarding himself and romanticism, he declared defeat. Which he didn’t bother to linger on. Until one day, when he met a man, most people thought of as ordinary, even boring.

Sherlock encountered Mike Stamford one of the last days of January. When Mike asked how he’d been, Sherlock told him he was searching for someone.

“Dead or alive?” Mike asked with a grin.

Sherlock rolled his eyes exasperated.

“I could use a flatmate. Preferably a living one,” he retorted dryly. “But…”

He trailed off, and Mike prompted him to complete the sentence.

“As you know, I’m no easy man to be around. I can’t think of anyone wanting to share quarters with me.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Sherlock. I’m sure there’s someone out there that match your criteria,” the doctor assured him.

Sherlock just scoffed and turned back to the microscope.

***

The experiment proved to be fruitless, so he sent Molly to get him coffee. When the door opened, far too soon for it to be her, Sherlock startled. He was not prepared to see Mike again, but what made the detective almost lose it, was the man Mike brought with him.

Ex-military. Doctor. Psychosomatic limp. Deployed somewhere warm.

Slowly, Sherlock approached Mike’s old friend from medical school, John Watson.

His face was open, trusting. He didn’t hesitate when Sherlock said he needed a phone, which he really didn’t.

“Here. Take mine.”

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

Sherlock didn’t need to seek insight. All of it was clear as day to him. Served on a silver plate. The phone told him the rest of the story. 

Granted, he’d been wrong about Harry, which John told him about the day after.

“There’s always something,” Sherlock muttered under his breath.

John just looked puzzled, but mostly awestruck. Not one word of mockery, distaste, or anger. Just: Amazing. Extraordinary. Brilliant.

When Sherlock told him what people normally said when he deduced them to shreds, John frowned and clenched his fist, the one not holding his cane.

It seemed like he was ready to punch the people who told Sherlock to piss off.

“Where have you been all my life?” he wanted to ask the remarkable man, but Sherlock was too afraid, so he stayed aloof, playing the sociopath he claimed to be.

***

Despite Angelo’s rather boisterous appearance, Sherlock always felt a calmness fall over him when he was around the man. He wanted to show John off to his Italian friend, and simultaneously letting John see a different side of Sherlock. It was a risk to let his guard down, but if his calculations were correct, the outcome would be glorious.

So, instead of biting John’s head off when he subtlety asked about Sherlock’s romantic preferences, he answered truthfully.

“Yes, John. I am unattached. Just like you.”

Sherlock couldn’t take his eyes off John’s tongue. It wet his lips continuously during the meal, and Sherlock wanted to taste it. The lack of data of how it would feel to kiss John and to be invaded by that rosy piece of flesh, almost drove the great detective mad. 

***

The chase through the city had never been so intoxicating and thrilling. John was right behind him, his cane safely taken care of by Angelo.

“Welcome to London.”

The American passenger in the taxi couldn’t believe the politeness of the British police, and Sherlock felt dizzy just listening to John’s incredulous laughter at the insane encounter.

They were breathless and giddy when they locked the black door of 221 Baker Street behind them.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done!”

“And you invaded Afghanistan.”

A knock on the door. Sherlock gestured for John to open.

“It’s for you.”

John’s astounded look when he returned with his cane, brought by Angelo, made Sherlock’s stomach do a somersault.

“How?” John said and shook his head in disbelief.

He leant the cane on the wall and approached Sherlock carefully. When he stood toe-to-toe with him, John took a hold of Sherlock’s upper arms.

“You,” he said softly. “Do you even know what you’ve done to me, for me? How am I ever going to repay you, thanking you for letting the sun into my life again? For making me want to live.”

Sherlock just stared down at John, unable to grasp what he meant. He’d done nothing out of the ordinary. Well, to be fair, the idea of visiting Angelo’s had been a whim. Not at all planned beforehand. He was a bit perplexed that something impulsive could make such an impact. 

When Sherlock asked about that, after their fifteenth kiss, John told him he was wrong.

“It wasn’t dinner, Sherlock. I’ve been in that situation lots of times. It was the chase that made me feel alive and useful. Not that dinner wasn’t lovely, because it absolutely was, but it seems that running after you is one of those things I’m suddenly addicted to. Just as that sinful mouth of yours.”

And with that, their sixteenth kiss was a fact.

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[mullermilkshake]

A lasting impression - Part two

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four

Sukuna takes matters into his own hands.

MINORS DNI 🔞 - Tags: Yakuza AU, Fem!reader. Hanami the muscle mummy, Graphic depictions of violence, gore, murder, eye gouging, stabbing, disembowellment, blood, eye gore

Yakuza!Sukuna

Sukuna knew exactly who had taken you, or for certain which family.

It wasn’t the fact that someone had taken you, this was way past that now. It was the point that someone had dared to touch you, struck you- hit you. Someone had the absolute gall to leave a mark on your body and cause you pain.

And Sukuna would not have it.

He paced down the street and called a taxi, on his way over, he managed to remove the blood from his face at least. Not the most presentable, but enough not to scare off the driver when he got in.

"Where to, sir?"

Sukuna gave the address and sat back in the seat with his arms crossed.

"That's quite far, is there a special occasion?"

Despite Sukuna just not liking people, it was admittedly neutral not to hear from someone who knew who he was. Or the man was incredibly blind not to see the blood on his clothes. Nor that he was Yakuza.

It was most probably because it was getting dark out. Still, his voice wasn't completely annoying.

Sukuna observed out of the window at the passing signs and open food stalls with one goal in mind. "I'm going to a boxing match."

Better for now than announcing that he was going to take a life tonight.

"Oh! You must be one of those famous boxers or something. Well good luck tonight!"

"Sure."

Sukuna listened to him ramble on the entire way over, almost banging his head against the glass and the longest story anyone could ever tell.

He must have thought more than a handful of times just to kick the man out of the taxi and drive himself over to the family office. It would have been faster than whatever this was.

The only saving grace to him was Sukuna's pent up rage seeing you as you were. By now, Uraume would have taken you back to headquarters, probably bathed you and wiped the red from your face.

Just the thought of another mans blood on you made Sukuna physically sick. The viscous liquid he painted on his fingers that were an extension of his arm touched you and contaminated your skin.

He would never forgive himself.

Maybe he would forgive it when he confronted the person he knew was responsible for this transgression.

Jiro Awasaka.

The bald headed fuck.

Just from those words you spoke. Tallest woman you had ever seen.

"Here's your stop sir, good luck on your endeavours."

Sukuna slid out of the car and just dropped plenty of notes on the man's passenger chair to which he yelled out with joy. It didn't matter how much was there, not really.

The light was on in that office like a beacon, beckoning Sukuna towards it like a moth fluttering by. The Awasaka family knew Sukuna was far from unsuspecting though decided to piss him off anyway.

Idiots.

He wandered in without a care, the empty lower levels weren’t a shock to see but suspenseful to say the least. Sukuna took the stairs with his hands in his pockets and just trudged up to the third floor where the office door was already open.

"Sukuna. I'm surprised to see you here."

Awasaka was hidden behind his desk, fingers laced together as though he was subconsciously hoping Sukuna would turn right around and leave and believe this pathetic front he was producing.

"I'm not interested in you just now, Awasaka. It's her I want."

Hanami. Awasaka's half witted guard.

The tallest woman anyone had ever seen. A rose amongst thorns in the Yakuza world. That's why she was so easy to identify.

Usually she her full arm and shoulder tattoo sleeve of roses and vines were visable. They were covered up in a black suit jacket clinging to her body and her tie at her next was done up to the top, that only a petal of ink peeped out over the collar by her neck.

She stood in the corner, suited more fashionably than her boss in her fitted pant suit, fluidly showing her attributes along the tight material across her arms.

Her height and muscles alone were nothing to deter Sukuna though.

"Her? What's she done?"

The fact that this man was questioning Sukuna's inteiilgence was laughable. "Did IQ's drop since the last time we met, Awasaka?"

Nanami said nothing, she stood by his side looking through Sukuna like he was nothing. And he was far from nothing.

'Nothing' was Awasaka. 'Nothing' was this entire clan and their chairman.

Noritoshi Kamo.

Yes. The very same Kamo.

"Oh... that meeting with your wife? Well she attacked two of my men, one is dead. All Noritoshi wanted to do was talk with her, but she caused so much hassle."

Upon hearing that, Sukuna couldn’t have been more proud of you.

He also wanted it be known that Choso Kamo was plucked from the same tree Noritoshi grew, yet became nothing like him. he had his reservations, but it was better the kid grew up under Sukuna's watchful eye instead of that ungrateful bastard.

Noritoshi Kamo was nothing to Sukuna, he was far superior in every way and never once actually saw Noritoshi as a threat.

"My bet is you wanted to ransom her off, right? How much is my wife worth to you, Awasaka?"

Sukuna ket his eyes transfixed on Hanami. The coward behind the desk suddenly became mute.

"Be concise and perhaps I won't kill you," if that wasn't enough to get his toes curling, this definitely would be, "or did you forget what happened to Zenin?"

He noticed Awasaka visibly swallow yet kept his smug look somewhat steady. "A hundred mil."

It was that easy to extract information from him and Sukuna hadn't even pulled any finger nails yet. How disappointing.

In honesty, you were worth far more than this little empire Sukuna had built. He'd trade it all in a heartbeat.

"The fact you think that a lousy one hundred mil would equate to my wife's worth, just shows how small minded you are. You bet too little on her head and quite frankly, I'm insulted."

One hundred million yen was 'nothing'.

You were everything.

"Sukuna-"

"I'll take compensation for the suffering you have made for a civilian. That does not come in monetary value. It comes in blood. Her blood."

"Hanami will do no such thing."

"Hanami will if she values you as her superior. Or perhaps I should start with you instead, Awasaka."

Sukuna had not moved from his spot in the office, the office door still open behind him. His age was becoming more evident, but his senses were not dulling no matter how much his opposition wanted to think.

"If you want more blood spilled, by all means, let your men down the hall witness my bare fist rip your stomach out."

"Wait... Leave us be- leave the building!" Awasaka called to no one and the movement tickling Sukuna's ears fell silent.

"You made the right choice, man," Sukuna made his move to the desk before both living bodies could register, "though I don't give second chances."

He grabbed the back of Awakasa's head and brought it down to the flat of the desk, the satisfying crunch of a broken nose set Sukuna’s instincts into overdrive.

This was nothing compared to what happened with Naobito Zenin.

Hanami finally made her own move, trying to block and break the closeness between her bleeding boss and Sukuna. Far too slow for someone hired to protect and just as clumsy when Sukuna avoided her fist and swinging arm upwards easy enough.

He swung and moved with enough speed to kick his leg out and temporarily topple Hanami in the awkward space behind the desk. Next, he pulled Awasaka from the chair and threw him to the ground to the point his stomach was now exposed under his shirt.

That's where the little ball point pens went from the stand on his desk. Two in deep enough to make the man squirm. Hanami grabbed Sukuna from behind and yanked him away.

She was slick enough to assume she had Sukuna in a bind, pulling him up and using the crook of her elbow at his neck. She never did see the two bull point pens in his hands.

Sukuna moved and utilised the almost two foot height different to his advantage and slipped out of it easy enough, practically climbing her and peicing her eyes with enough pressure that they popped.

She screamed out and stumbled around the room unti her body hit the wall with him still attached to her.

"An eye for an eye, but let's take interest until I'm satisfied," he twisted the pens and let them squelch the mass inside the eye sockets, "flesh from your skull ought to do that, maybe it'll teach you not to touch who you do not have any right to."

She said nothing, just yelped in pain some more until she slipped down the wall.

"Come on, don't be shy when you were so confident earlier hitting a civilian," He pushed the pen shaped metal in deeper until Hanami stopped moving. "Consequences have actions and I do not let things slide. Not when it comes to her."

No one got away with touching you in any way and got to walk out without losing a body part.

And now to take out the trash.

Awasaka still laid on the ground right where he was, gurgling away from his broken nose and most probably a punctured lung. Sukuna knelt down at him and watched the pathetic waste struggle.

"This will certainly be a sign to Noritoshi to take me on and I hope he does. Maybe then I'll find someone actually worth fighting, though I highly doubt that."

Pushing his fingers through the gouge in his stomach he made, Sukuna opened it further and noted the spray from Awasaka's lips as his hand disappeared inside his abdomen.

There he pulled out whatever he could get his hands on and yanked it from his body, it was practically still throbbing and steaming in his closed fist when it was tugged away.

It slumped on his skin and formed a neat pile over his chest, like a bow for a present. That should have been enough to question Noritoshi Kamo and coax him in for a 'little talk' about how his lieutenants were going unchecked.

It wasn't the last time he'd do this. It wasn’t as though Sukuna had eradicated the danger for you, but he could sleep sounder tonight knowing one less evil was at large.

They were all filthy nobodies not worth their salt.

And soon Sukuna would ensure they all met their graves in a timely manner.

Just for you.

[morsesnotes]

Endeavour Morse + crouching

[cherenkovrads]

The ISS is explorable on google maps!!

For those interested in space, the ISS is explorable on street view, with little bubbles explaining what certain panels/modules are for!

link

The clutter and multi directional modules (no up or down in space, so every surface is put to use) are extremely disorienting, I wonder how many astronauts get lost in their first days?

The Russian Soyuz; as of June 6th '24, there are 4 passenger spaceships docked, Boeing’s Starliner spacecraft, the SpaceX Dragon Endeavour spacecraft, Northrop Grumman’s Cygnus space freighter, and the Soyuz MS-25 crew ship. [source]

[too-antigonish]

This scene is so much better with the Stones than without. Why is international music licensing so insanely messed up and expensive!!??!!?!?! There should not have to be a separate international version of the soundtrack!

Ok so yeah I’m still stuck on “Passenger”.

But I LOVE this clip, the music is just fucking perfect for that almost-strut. Get it, Endeavour.

[too-antigonish]

How to Seduce Endeavour Morse: A Guide for the Perplexed

The ways are many and varied. Your chances of success are—unfortunately—highly dependent on factors outside of your control. You can, however, learn lessons from those who have tread this path before you.

1) The "I-Forgot-to-Tell-You-I’m-a-Killer" Approach

Comments: Used with surprising frequency given ultimately low success rate.

Rosalind Calloway (S1E0 Pilot): First, become a world-famous opera singer. Your artistry will convince him that life is worth living. When the time comes, gently but firmly rebuff his rather innocent advances. Be unmasked as murderess and crush his will to live via the revelation of your utter lack of humanity and subsequent suicide.

Susan Fallon (S1E0 Pilot): Be at Oxford. Have snobby parents and lots of snobby friends. Be his first great love and agree to marry him. Then abandon him very publicly and with maximum cruelty for your first great love. Many years later become murderess (although Lewis will never allow him to find that out). However, still successfully crush him to pieces again by committing suicide.

Isla Fairford (S6E3 Confection): Live in a charming small village with adorable son and amiable veterinarian father. Have an appealing origin story involving cruel abandonment that reminds him of his own life experiences.  Go on intimate date where you seem to be everything he could hope for and then share a sweet but chaste kiss goodnight. Oops, murder someone…again…sort of. Suddenly transform into personification of vengeance.

2) The "It-Never-Hurts-to-Ask" Approach

Comments: Success rate zero, but very high entertainment value.

Pamela Walters (S1E1 Girl): Like it says on the tin: Just ask. She asks, “Will you take me to bed?” Sorry sweet girl. He won’t—but he will read you a very nice bedtime story

Kay Belborough (S3E1 Ride): Play flirty name games and ask him breathlessly if he’s falling in love with you. Share a romantic kiss under fairy lights at a party.  Eventually tell him he can “have you.”  He won’t—but by then he will have saved you from a suicide attempt so I think he’s done enough really…

Annette Richardson (S3E2 Arcadia): Request help with home security. Tell him you can’t possibly undress yourself. He won’t bite—but he will come maddeningly close to nibbling on your neck and you’ll refuse to believe that he won’t come calling, ”…when he’s ready.”

Bettina Pettybon (S4E2 Canticle): Just show up at his flat looking generally bedraggled. Tell him how your mother forced you to spill the beans and get him kicked off the case. Down some hard liquor. And then—tell him you love him. When he’s gobsmacked by your revelation, assume it’s because there’s “someone else” and not because he barely knows you.

3) The "Let’s-Just-Go-to-Bed" Approach

Comments: Has an impresseive 100% success rate but never ends well.

Alice Vexin (S1E3 Rocket): Secretly crush on him for years. Go on one quasi-date where you dissect his personality quirks in excruciating detail. Show up at his door when he’s emotionally vulnerable and then sleep with him. Promptly abandon him with maximum cruelty. Be sure to tell him, “It’s not me. It’s you,” in the form of, “You’re just not ready yet.”

Carol Thursday (S5E2 Cartouche): Be very attractive. Be suddenly, unexpectedly available. Be directly in his path. This means you can skip the date part (a drink will do). Go straight to sleeping with him. Then go straight to the realization that this might be…one of the most awkward situations you’ve ever gotten yourself into. Manage to handle it all with amazing sweetness and grace nonetheless.

Claudine (S5E3 Passenger): Be very attractive. Be suddenly, unexpectedly available. Be directly in his path. Bonus points if the woman he actually wants practically throws you into his arms. Go straight to sleeping with him. Tease him. Toy with him like a capricious child. Play games for your own amusement. Abandon him with maximum cruelty. 

4) One-Off Approaches

Comments: Technically not actual attempts at seduction so...

School Girls (S2E2 Nocturne): Talk about how dreamy he is like we do on Tumblr. Given enough time, write “Love you” in eye liner on your eyelids as per: Indiana Jones movie. Blink very slowly during all interrogations.

Anna-Britt Clark (S4E2 Canticle): Be very attractive. Despise tan lines. Work on said tan next to swimming pool at rock-band-murder-mansion. Show him your (tan line free) naked torso. Find his very “English” discomfort perplexing but charming.

Eve Thorne (S5E1 Muse): You don’t actually *want* to seduce him. He’s a cop *and* a condescending prick. However, the seduction will happen anyway. You won’t sleep together. You won’t even touch. But the hate-flirting will be amazing.

5) The "Let's-Try-a-Normal-Relationship-Just-Once" Approach

Comments: She was too psychologically healthy for you. In the end it was for the best (...except for the murder and prison parts).

Monica Hicks (S2E3 Sway): Find yourself recruited for some light caregiving. Be absolutely charming. After tactless date mix-up and adorable mattress incident at department store, proceed to have actual healthy relationship. Hang out listening to music, discuss your future together, buy him a cute scarf. Then wake up one morning to find out he’s in prison—and about that scarf…

6) The "This-Doesn't-Happen-in-Real-Life" Approach

Comments: It was opera—and by opera rules he actually got off pretty easy.

Violetta Talenti** (S7E1: Oracle): Engineer improbable but spectacular first encounter—twice. Finagle one in Venice and one in Oxford. Overcome all of his valid moral objections and engage in a lengthy, passionate affair. When the moment of truth arrives, reject him with maximum possible cruelty. Die in his arms. Use your last words to ensure that he spends the rest of his life feeling conflicted and confused about the true nature of your feelings towards him.

**Also might fall into "I-Forgot-to-Tell-You-I’m-a-Killer" but we will never know for sure

7) The "We-Aren't-Explicitly-Saying-It-But-You-Know" Approach

Comments: Don't try this at home kids. It will end badly for you. Highly effective, however, when Morse and Thursday need to make up and be friends again.

Joss Bixby (S3E1 Ride): Be the UK Great Gatsby. Invite him to your over-the-top parties. Gracefully take it in stride and allow him to appear extra-clever when he points out that your latest art purchase is a forgery. Manage to be charming and self-deprecating while flirting outrageously with him. Offer him jobs. Give him cars. Have lots of emotionally charged moments (especially on dark docks) and say incredibly poetic things. Die tragically so he can mourn you forever but also use your passing as an excuse to reconnect with his former mentor.

Ludo Talenti (S7E1 Oracle): Be evil. Come up with an evil plan. Get your wife to seduce him. Then (ha, ha) you will also seduce him. You will both succeed beyond your wildest dreams. He will be the most thoroughly seduced man ever. However, once you have rejected him with maximum possible cruelty by pretending you actually care that he was sleeping with your wife, he will discover your secret life of crime and come after you. You will die (justifiably, not tragically), after killing your wife and your death will providing yet another opportunity for our hero to reconnect with his estranged mentor.

8) The "Be-the-One-That-Got-Away" Approach

Comments: Definitely the method of choice for Morse seduction. 100% effective. Hands-down winner!

Joan Thursday (S1E2 Fugue): Be very attractive, articulate, and idealistic. Be the daughter of his mentor/best friend/father figure/brother-in-arms. Have lots of incredibly charged emotional encounters but never say anything directly to him about your complicated feelings. Be together during highly significant moments in your lives, but don’t ever go on a real date (pedestrian!). Touch in a variety of meaningful and sometimes even affectionate ways, but never engage in anything blatent. A passionate kiss would be unthinkable. And never, ever sleep together! Still manage to abandon him with maximum cruelty. Still manage to be the love of his life. Well done you!

[upthelagan]

Ronnie Box. Endeavour, Passenger.

[akutasoda]

my eternity

synopsis - maybe an eternity couldn't last forever, especially when it's worlds apart

includes - dan heng ft express crew

warnings - gn!reader, reader is based off raiden shogun (genshin), bittersweet angst, fluff, some comfort, two socially awkward people try to express feelings, wc - 2.7k

a/n: this was requested by @supernerdycookietrashblrr! sorry this took so long hope you enoy! (i got very carried away)

you were the designated 'protector' and leader of your homeland. one filled with many traditions and people from all walks of life, but none had the knowledge to know that you were rarely actually there. in fact, the place you preferred to call your home was one you fashioned yourself, the plane of euthymia.

it was where your consciousness and physical body existed in hopes of achieving the eternity you yearned for. and in your place roamed a puppet. a puppet in your image that ruled your land for you, one that could not age or be weakened and therefore the most efficient way of ruling.

however, sometimes the endless sky in the plane of euthymia became tormenting, rather tiring and that's when you ventured outside the realm. most of the time, you'd enter in the place of your puppet who then was placed inside the plane - switching places until you got bored of the real world again.

however things seemed amiss this time. something in the plane shifted the wrong way, and because the plane was practically made from your conscience it burdened your mind and ruined any train of thought you may of had. your initial thought was that something must of happened outside of the plane and so you would leave to investigate.

but instead of being greeted by the scenery of your homeland, you found yourself within a library? it had the smell of old books and such but it really paled in looks. it was rather odd looking but the most questionable part was if you looked down and noticed the bundle of blankets and pillows.

for obvious reasons you were on edge. so as you cautiosly approached what you assumed to be the door out, it opened. and in having no time to draw your actual sword, you settled for the easier option. in mere matter of seconds, your polearm ghosted the side of a dark haired males neck.

the express was currently docked at the space station. himeko insited on doing a basic maintenance check after encountering a rather rough journey and dragged welt along for assistance. march had claimed to go for a walk to 'stretch her legs'. and so dan heng remained alone with the conductor who seemed awfully chatty about the most recent voyage.

so when an abrupt noise occurred - seemingly from the passenger cabins - pom pom practically shoved dan heng toward it and shut the door behind him until he found the answer. they were always scared easily. dan heng didn't expect much at first - perhaps something had fallen over somewhere. but he would have to see out his endeavour in 'keeping the conductor safe' regardless.

but it became a bit more alarming when he heard faint, rather slow, footsteps originating from the archives. perhaps it was one of the ghosts pom pom always claimed to see but did they even make footsteps?

warily he walked towards the archives, and when he finally pushed aside the door, the last thing he expected was the edge of a polearm immediately being raised to his throat. he caught your eyes rather quickly and felt rather intimidated by the sheer power you seemed to hold.

but what caught you off guard was when your polearm was violently shoved aside by the his own. he hadn't quite deemed you a threat yet, but first impressions weren't putting you in good favour. he moved forward with his own skill, trying to push you into a situation of hesitation - that way he figured answers may be more likely.

but he seemed to underestimate just how much skill you had because with one quick movement not only had you dodged his attack but yet again held him in a unfortunate circumstance. but before a word could even be spoken you felt a few pairs of eyes bearing into the back of your head.

'the conductor informed us that something was amiss', it was a rather low voice, one that suggested age and he continued 'drop the weapon and release our crewmate'. you let yourself up with little hesitation, in yet another quick move you turned and pushed the person you were holding to his friends, supposedly.

you could now see exactly who was confronting you know, an older man with glasses, a younger woman with striking red hair and a rabbit? 'whats everyone doing down here?' a rather cheery voice called out as footsteps became louder but before they could answer the newly arriving pinkette, you spoke.

you weren't one for combat surprisingly. sure you'd engage in it and if something wished to make you their enemy you'd gladly diminish their hopes of living. but you were wise to not resort to unnecessary violence, unless you really had to. and so you explained you meant no harm, you simply were startled by your abrupt arrival by no knowledge of your own - you also didn't like sharing.

you were met with the group opposites collective look of confusion before the red haired woman spoke. 'you have no recollection of how you got here? my, that's tricky' she paused before looking around 'why don't we talk elsewhere, please follow'.

you oblidged and followed the cautious group into a more open room. it seemed to contain a communal seating area which the woman insisted you sat down upon. she smiled before addressing you again and asking for your name. you felt no obligation to tell complete strangers your name, so instead you told them your puppets.

the conversation became rather one sided after that. the woman, you know knew as himeko, lead it with the man, welt, occasionally chiming in. you weren't one to share information, let alone to complete strangers and so the only information that you let them know was your puppets name (which they thought was your actual name) and that you aren't from here.

and unfortunately for you, that was most of the information they needed. between most of them they could easily figure out that something had happened to bring you into their world and somehow you needed to get back, however no body had a clue how to do so. after all the universe is vast and perhaps endless - but that meant it would contain the answers.

himeko dismissed herself and the others claiming they needed to discuss something before leaving you alone in the room. your briefly considered trying to enter your plane of euthymia and exiting again but two things stopped you - one, it may just bring you back and two, if your puppet was still in your homeland then atleast until you could get back, things wouldn't seem amiss to your residents.

and while you were thinking, the group re-entered. himeko yet again smiled before saying 'while we may not been a great help now, should you choose to join us, you can travel with us and perhaps have better luck in returning', she glanced over toward dan heng and nodding before turning back 'we are all perfectly fine with whatever decision you come to, but to note that it was him who suggested this in the first place'.

you glanced over to dan heng and he looked away, only looking back when you turned back to himeko. you couldn't help that agree that your chances of returning home would probably increase if you joined them and besides, you didn't have to form any connections with them in you did.

you weren't exactly the friendliest but it was for your own reasons. so you agreed. while you weren't exactly the most friendly and approachable person, you figured that your best chance on returning home would be to travel with these people, and they never said you would actually have to become their companion.

the only condition himeko explained to you was that because they travelled to help those that need it, if the occasion should arise then you should help them. she would also note that you probably have no issue in conflicts due to your unfortunate first encounter. which you found fair afterall, an eye for an eye.

it was safe to say that the atmosphere became rather uncomfortable to start with. himeko and the conductor granted you a spare passenger cabin until otherwise and that's where you spent most of your time. occasionally himeko or march would come and try to get to know you better but ultimately be met with a wall of silence.

however something you found valuable you heard from march was that the archives were accessible to all passengers. knowledge is proof of eternity, all things that have come before recorded down and passed along. so you decided to maybe spend some time exploring such archives.

however what you didn't really anticipate was how different the information seemed to be stored as. in your homeland everything was stored through scrolls and books or even word of mouth. but it all seemed so much more mechanical and modern. fortunately for you, in your confusion dan heng decided to return to his room.

you two hadn't talked at all since the day you arrived, so reasonably there was a bit of tension in the air. however dan heng could pick up on your confusion and pushed aside any awkward air to ask if everything was alright. you simply claimed that you were a bit confused by the archive.

'would you like some assistance?', the words came out his mouth before he could even process them, but you simply nodded and before he knew it he found himself beside you showing you all the records and such he kept organised.

you thanked him and excused yourself as you realised how long you had actually spent in the archives. he nodded before adding that you were free to visit anytime and then you left.

you didn't really sleep. you either didn't bother as in your search for eternity you didn't want to indulge in such trivial matters or you were on edge. this time, sleeping didn't really appeal to you as sleeping knowing people you barely knew surrounded you was unpleasant.

so you decided to re visit the archives. you found exploring this new world may be beneficial to your return and plus you could decide if it would be a enemy to eternity. so as you pushed open the door, you walked in and carefully closed it behind you as too not wake the other residents.

but whag you hadn't anticipated was that odd bundle of blankets and pillows now supported a body. upon squinting your eyes you recognized ot as dan heng, maybe you should return in the morning-

dan heng shot up and immediately pressed a hand to his head to wipe away any sweat he had. it was another nightmare, he didn't know why he bothered to try and sleep when that was all that tormented him. he raised his hand infront of himself trying to stop the shaking and level his breathing, then he looked to you.

his brain only recognizing your presence when he calmed down slightly. he simply said 'couldn't sleep well? or is there something you need?', he shoveled the think blanket of himself as he shakily stood up. you were no fool and knew he didn't want to talk about whatever gave him such a reaction so you simply shrugged and said you couldn't sleep.

he sat in front of the main screen and looked behind at you before saying 'wan't to read some old logs with me?'. well that was what you were here to do originally so you walked over and sat beside him. you two spent the rest of the night having dan heng recount the tales of the express and all the various logs added.

and before either of you knew it, it was morning. time seemed to pass quicker than usual afterwards however. you spent more time with dan heng and found yourself reluctantly letting him get closer to you than you would've liked and it appeared he felt the same. unfortunately neither of you wanted to push the other way despite your body screaming that this was a bad idea.

you both knew that as well. sooner or later you would have to return to your homeland. the bond that was forging would be cut short and mercilessly and you both would become yet another memory for eachother. yet neither of you could bring yourselves to stop it now before it could hurt either of you.

but it seemed time would be cut ever shorter for you. the express crew still had no leads on how to return you to your original realm but answers needed to come quick. your body wasn't reacting well to being outside the plane for this long - you had spent so long inside the plane of euthymia that your body adapted to its conditions.

but maybe the new universe was also taking a toll, you felt no longer like yourself and sometimes during the day your body would practically seize and you felt like a spectator to your own body, not the host. and the crew recognised this deteriorating condition - also chalking it up to long exposure to somewhere that wasn't your homeland.

and before any more tries to find answers could happen, you worsened even more. your body began aching and you really couldn't control your actions so you tried a last resort tactic. you placed yourself back inside of the plane of euthymia and could immediately regain control of your body.

but relief became confusion as you hear march's scream from behind you, turning round to see that you had accidentally brought the express crew into your plane aswell. you wanted to explain and help them back out into the express but the presence of your puppet became your biggest concern.

you turned round to confront your puppet and before you knew it the express crew had stood beside you. your lack if sharing now put them in danger and despite this they offered help. from your body language and maybe the polearm in your hand they could tell what you were going to do.

but you refused help, it was your puppet after all. you created it and so you knew it's weaknesses, this shouldn't become an issue. except it did. the express, especially dan heng, could only watch despite wanting to help as you fought with yourself.

but now you were slowly losing the rational parts of your brain, but before you knew it you had defeated your puppet. but your bodyy seemed to know possess a body of it's own as you became something that was not quite yourself, deciding for you that the express members were enemies of eternity.

you didn't mean to attack them, and they didn't mean to attack back. they wanted to help you desperately - despite your lack of interaction with most they still came to cherish you as the temporary addition to their little family. even if you didn't share, they didn't care. but now they wished you did share more often.

the fight was exhausting for both parties. you wanted to stop, to npt destroy the companions you reluctantly built over the time you'd spent with them but your mind and body weren't cooperating. and dan heng wanted to help you more than ever.

and because he hadn't pushed you away, he hadn't refused himself entirely in building a bond with you he knew how to help. he ignored the shouts for him to stay back as he had faith you wouldn't hurt him. he knew that you were still in there and he'd be dammned should he not help.

you fought so hard to not attack him. to not damage yet another relationship you had built and instead let him get ever closer. and even now as your body fell back to its original state, you could grasp why you subconsciously let him get closer even if you knew he'd leave eventually. because now you still had no way home. and as dan heng laid his head upon your shoulder, you could only think on why you shouldn't indulge in this comfort a little longer, even if this eternity was not possible.