#I need redemption after the paper ripped

[krys-does-art-stuff]

Got nostalgic for some DBZ so here are some sketches. Still can draw a pretty good Goku, I think.

RIP to the corner tho (literally) as it tore when I was taking it out of the sketchbook for scanning. Top ten anime betrayals, smh.

Feb 2024

[cemeteryspider]

The Shadow's Redemption

Platonic! X-Men x New X-Men! Reader

Eventual Nightcrawler! Kurt Wagner x Necromancer! Reader

Summary: When you arrive at the X-Mansion, you are forced to open up about past trauma to grow and become the person you were meant to be.

Trigger Warnings: Trauma, Abuse, Violence, Emotional Distress, and Loss

Word Count: 2570

When you arrived at the academy after years of fighting the X-Men, let's just say that not everyone was very welcoming. However, the Professor welcomed you with open arms after Mister Sinister's control over you was severed.

Cyclops, Scott Summers as you would come to know him as, was maybe the biggest obstacle of your transition from mind control survivor to X-Men in training.

"I refuse to work with them! They've tried to kill me and the team on multiple occasions. They are dangerous, and don't know how their powers work! That's only scratching the surface Professor!," You could hear Scott yelling behind the thick door to the Professor's office.

Your eyes were trained on the floor, and your knees instinctively curled up into your chest. You knew the abuse that Sinister put you through and you would never willingly go back, but in the back of your mind you could only think, 'At least he wanted me'.

Once the thought entered your mind, the yelling stopped and the door burst open. Scott stormed off past you giving you the dirtiest look as he passed.

"Come in, dear, we have much to discuss," The Professor welcomed you into his office with his voice, knowing how much you feared telepathic communication after Mister Sinister. "I have decided that you will have a team of mutants to mentor you, Storm, Wolverine, and Jubilee. They will each help you with different aspects of your powers, Storm will help you keep total control over your powers, Wolverine will assist with hand to hand combat, and Jubilee will assist you in self-defense and social integration at the academy"

You spoke quietly, "I don't need you to assign me friends".

He gave a hearty chuckle at your comment, "I'm not assigning you friends, it will be your job to make friends with the team, I'm just setting you up for success, my dear," He looked down at a stack of papers on his desk, "Wolverine will see you in the Danger Room now, have a good first day"

With that you looked up at him confused, "My apologies, I will show you to the room"

Easily you could've figured the layout of the building using your powers to take knowledge from the dead, but instead you silently followed the Professor's chair across the building.

~~~

Your fists hit the punching bag, barely making it sway from side to side.

"Come on, you've hit me harder than that, Bub," That comment made you give him a little glare.

"If I could use my powers, this punching bag would be ripped to shreds in seconds," The quiet but powerful statement made Wolverine grumble.

"Sometimes you can't count on your abilities to get you out of a situation," He grasped your wrist in his hand and showed you how to move your arm. You shook him off and tried again.

"Bit better," He circled you and the punching bag for what felt like an eternity, "Punch the bag like your angry at it"

Your eyebrows creased and you tried to feel your anger. As hard as you tried you remembered the telepathic calm Mister Sinister would inject into your mind whenever you started to revolt against him. Just like you did back then you fell to your knees, tears falling from your eyes.

~~~

“I’m going to take you down. I will escape, and you will pay,” You snarled from your place on the cold metal chair, twisting the rough rope tying your wrists to the arms of the chair.

“Oh you poor thing, I give you a new life, a fulfilling one, and you threaten me? Tsk tsk,” He grabbed your face in his hands, “Tell me what do you feel now?”

The artificial calm entered your mind. It infected your anger with a stillness, a complacency that made you regret yelling at Mister Sinister in the first place. You could feel the pit in your stomach grow, and your breathing quickened but the power suppressant collar he had on you kept you hyperventilating.

“See, you like it here, I care about you, and we make a great team,” You tried to shove the thoughts out of your mind, but nothing worked. So you cried, the tears reminded you of how you’ve lost something, something that may never return.

~~~

Wolverine's eyes widened and you heard him talking to someone, "Xavier, I think I made a mistake... uh huh, they're umm cryin'... why me?... fine"

You placed your head in your hands and continued to cry, you felt the ground shake a little as he sat next to you.

"You know, I was taken too," After a moment your shaking settled and you looked up at him your eyes filled with hurt, "I was turned into a weapon, experimented on, tortured, locked up, I don't wanna talk about that, but I escaped"

You wiped the tears from your eyes, and looked him over for once you noticed the scars marring his skin.

"I changed for the better. It took a while, well maybe still, but I'm finding myself. The academy is a good place to start lookin, Bub"

Your eyes locked onto Wolverine's, "Thank you for believing in me, Wolverine"

His eyes rolled, "Don't call me that, Logan's just fine," He quickly got up from the ground and extended his hand to you.

~~~

You stood outside with Storm, and the wind she controlled blew your hair around. You were mesmerized by Storm's control over the skies making clouds appear and disappear, small thunderstorms flying overhead, even tiny tornado's spinning in the palm of her hand.

"You too can use your powers with such precision, with practice," She assured you.

You started with mediating, controlled breathing, and even visualization to manage your emotions. Allow you to feel them and understand how to understand your powers.

"Think of your happiest memory, now" You scanned your memories looking for that moment. Everything beyond your captivity by Mister Sinister seemed to have vanished, your neutral face turned into a frown.

"I don't have any I can remember," You opened your eyes to see Storm staring back at you. You could've sworn you could see sympathy in the eyes staring back. Her neutral expression finally broke into one of realization.

"What do you feel then," You pondered her question for a moment. You thought of everything he had taken from you, your parents, your normal life, your home, your youth...

"I'm angry," You whispered.

"What was that?" You knew full well she heard you.

"I feel angry," You looked at her with a scared look in your eyes. She just smiled at you.

"Show me how that feels," She stood up alongside you as you walked a little further away from the mansion.

Your breathing quickened, you could feel your eyes glaze over black, and you screamed. You let yourself feel your anger. Your fists clenched, and you could feel the darkness escape from your enclosed palms. You could feel the angry spirits within you scream with you.

The X-Men basketball game stopped and looked towards you. Darkness emitting in tendrils from your body, and spirits appearing around you screaming in unison. They all looked shocked.

Once a wave of relief washed over you and the darkness was pulled back inside, and the spirits disappeared either satisfied for the moment or put to rest eternally. A smile crossed your face for the first time in a long time.

"I can work with that" Storm was smirking at you, looking at you not with fear but a sweet sort of admiration. It made you smile wider.

~~~

That night you didn't take dinner back to your room. Instead you sat with the team Charles Xavier so badly wanted you to be a part of. You weren't nervous around him or Jean after your training with Logan and Storm. You felt confident in your abilities to feel your own emotions, and possibly the influence of a telepath. The Professor assured that when you were ready he could help you with that aspect, and after seeing your powers while on the basketball court Jean offered as well.

People were still afraid of confronting you about your powers, knowing what it felt like to be on the receiving end of your army of undead spirits. However, someone did not have those same qualms.

Kurt unapologetically appeared across from you at the table as you were sat between Storm and Logan protectively, "Hello, schön, saw your display the other day, it was simply amazing"

Your eyes flicked up from your plate and to Logan who simply huffed at the fuzzy blue man across from you.

"Thanks," you tersely responded.

"Ah! So silly of me, I am Kurt Wagner," Quickly he disappeared and reappeared in front of your eyes holding a flower across the table to you, "the Nightcrawler"

You felt your cheeks heat up looking up at him from your meal. You couldn't remember the last time someone introduced themself to you of their own volition.

"I'm Styx," You slowly plucked the beautiful golden marigold from between his fingers, "Thank you, Kurt"

His smile was infectious, and a smile turned one side of your mouth upwards.

"Kurt, sit down we have much to discuss," Still as the Professor spoke to the group about upcoming missions, and successful past ones he would steal glances at you.

One time he made a funny face at you while Scott was busy speaking, which caused you to laugh out loud. Everyone turned to look at you, and Logan simply started laughing too. Storm had a smile on her face because she knew it was the first time you laughed at the mansion.

~~~

You were at the mall with Jubilee and Jean who were helping you pick out some new clothes to make you feel more comfortable. While meandering the racks at Hot Topic Jubilee snuck up next to you.

"You know Kurt totally has a crush on you, right?" The same heat rushed to your cheeks, as you speedily turned back to the clothes to bring out a lacy black top with bell sleeves.

"What about this?" You held it up to your chest and turned back to Jubilee.

"Cute," She snatched it from your hands and put it in the basket, "but you can't avoid this, do you think you like him?"

You opened your mouth to say no, but you closed it because you did find him frustratingly adorable.

"Ah! You didn't say no!" Jubilee put her hand out for you to take which you reluctantly did, "He has never gotten so smitten with a new person this quickly, you two would be so cute together! Golden retriever and black cat relationship type thing ya know!"

You kept walking down the aisle, "Come on! Get excited with me! You two would so be a match," her fingers snapped and a small bright firework lit up your face.

You chuckled but something held you back, "I'm not sure I'm ready. For years the only person who I talked to was Sinister. I'm not exactly sure I'm dating material"

Jubilee exaggeratedly rolled her eyes at you, "You are a total catch, I mean the chic funeral attire, creepy spirits you have at your whim, the cold tendril thingys, who wouldn't want to date you," You gave her a sharp glare and she put her hands up defensively,

"I'm just joking, obvi, seriously you're so cool and anyone would be lucky to have you. If you're not ready I won't pressure you, but I don't know if Kurt's giving up anytime soon"

~~~

You focused on raising a singular spirit from the dead. Placing your hands in the grass behind the mansion. A blue spirit emerged from the Earth and sat with her legs crossed next to you.

'Hello, what's your name?' She was just a child, and yet she felt peace in death, you could feel it.

"People call me Styx, how 'bout you?"

'It doesn't matter, why have you brought me here?'

"I'm trying to learn more about summoning, my power"

'I had powers too'

"Tell me about them"

A smile crossed the young child's face and her eyes lit up, 'I could see the future, but a bad man took me away. Injected me with something. My body couldn't heal it like the others,' Her smile vanished, 'I dreamed of being an X-Men'

"I'm sorry that happened to you, no one deserves that. I'm an X-Men in training, you know," That was the first time you said that out loud.

'Really?! So you know Jean Grey! and Storm! Do you know Charles Xavier?!,'

You smiled at the young girl, "Yes I know them. Storm is like my best friend you know"

A gasp escaped the young girl's lips, 'That's so cool! You know maybe if you took my power, it would be like I'm part of the X-Men too'

"If only I could do that, I only can take knowledge from others," You chuckled.

She giggled at you, 'You can, silly, I can see the future, so I would know. Just take my hands'

You turned to face the young girl, and you held her hands in yours.

'Just focus," And you did, 'Think about my clairvoyance, think about the future'

And you did. There was a tingling sensation in your palms, and in a moment she was gone just an echo of a sentence, 'Call me Claire.'

~~~

You had two new powers to train, and you closed yourself off in your room working on honing in on looking into the future. Sometimes you would see centuries in the future, and sometimes seconds. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to this, just guesses.

While focusing you heard a knock at the door.

"Come in!" You yelled, and in a moment Kurt appeared in your room.

"Hallo! How are you Liebe!" He joyfully appeared next to you on the bed.

"Oh, hey Kurt. I'm doing well, how are you?" You carefully placed your hands on your lap, not wanting to try to see the future with Kurt in the room.

"Good, now that I'm with you," He gently shifted on the bed to look at you better, "Liebe, I have a question, but I don't want to scare you off"

"Ask me," You looked into his eyes, and a dark blush crossed his face.

'Hold his hand, see the future,' Sometimes Claire would speak to you. Usually to help you understand how to use her powers, and so you took his hand in yours.

Surprise crossed his face, but he quickly cleared his throat and used his confidence while it lasted, "Will you, do me the honor, of going on a date with me"

You saw yourself saying yes. You dress up, Kurt taking you to a fancy restaurant, and a dance at the end of the night. You saw another date where you shared your first kiss with him.

You could've seen more but you blinked away the visions. It didn't take you more than a second to respond this time.

"Yes, I would like that very much"

"Gut, sehr gut, how is Saturday?," You smiled at him and nodded, "unglaublich, I will see you then!"

With that he poofed out of the room and outside you could hear him cheering and Wolverine giving him the most big brother chat you've ever heard.

[littlejuicebox]

Hello Gina! Been loving your stories a lot specially Astarion talks in his sleep and My Sun, My Moon 1&2! which is why I wanna try if you can do a one shot of their 1st anniversary of marriage! 🤭 just wondering how it was for them, usually they say the 1st year is the toughest one but i wanna see how you see it 🤭 Many thanks!! i look forward to more stories!

Hello, my friend! <3

I really love this prompt! Marriage is hard and Astarion has his quirks that would def make him frustrating to Tav! Love isn't always sunshine and rainbows.

I took this in a slightly different direction, it's a reflection on their first major argument! Hope you like it. <3

Warnings/Tags: not edited or beta read / In-game spoilers, fluff/angst w comfort / married people having an argument / this follows my HC fics for redemption Astarion x Tav but I'm pretty sure it can be read as a OneShot

Word Count: 1.7K

-----

Astarion cannot concentrate on the blasted contract in front of him any longer. The delivery should have been here by now.

He only had a few hours before you returned from the Upper City and his entire plan for your first anniversary would be shot if the florists didn’t hurry the hells up.

“You said they would arrive by midday and now it’s nearly teatime, Pascal!” Astarion snaps at his steward, a middle-aged human with wide set eyes and a scar running horizontally along his nose bridge.

Pascal sits on the far end of Astarion’s office, reviewing a ledger. He slowly raises his eyes from the document to meet the petulant visage of his employer.

“That is what the florist told me, my Lord. But it is quite a large order. Fifty night-blooming plants and shrubs would likely take several carts, sir. It’s certainly possible they’ve run into delays along the way.” Pascal responds, his voice gentle but unbothered, as if he’s grown used to placating the moods of the vampire over the past year.

Astarion simply huffs in response, “We did not pay a premium for those ingrates to simply—“

He stops as his highly acute hearing catches the sound of wheels turning along the manor’s pebbled drive. By the raucous sound of it, there are several wagons making their way towards the home's entrance.

“Pascal, they're here. I will go greet them; round up the other servants and have them stop what they’re doing immediately. We will need all hands to make up for lost time.” Astarion says as he tosses the contract he’d been reviewing, leaving it with a large stack of papers scattered across his desk.

Several of those papers had the remnants of ink splotches and blood splatters from an hours-long drafting session he’d done on a business proposal the day prior. The goblet he'd been drinking from yesterday, dirtied with now-dried blood, sits haphazardly in the corner of the desk.

Astarion struggled to contain his natural propensity toward sloppiness. His mind often worked far too quickly for him to slow down and pay attention to trivial things like bloodstains and spilled ink.

However, after multiple gentle chastisements and one angry explosion from you, he’d managed to curb his disorganization to his office, which you accepted. The argument you two had, prior to coming to this arrangement, had truly terrified him.

The pale elf makes sure to grab the goblet and place it out in the foyer for the maid to grab; she had never been allowed to enter the master bedchambers or his office, for privacy. You two were responsible for keeping those areas tidy. Astarion did... almost nothing to his office, while you kept everything pristine in the bedroom.

Except for that one time before the argument. His mind wanders as he exits the office, reflecting on the memory that keeps him cleaning up his goblets.

-----

He could tell by your voice alone that you were angry. Furious, in fact. The sound ripped him away from the contractor agreement he'd been reviewing.

“Astarion! How many times do I have to ask you to not leave cups of blood in the bedchambers!” Your voice came booming down the hallway before you burst into the office, causing the door to slam into the wall with a loud thud. His eyes caught sight of the angry red splotches on your face, and then trailed down to your wedding dress, clutched in your shaking hand.

There was a large, crimson bloodstain smattered along the train. He almost fainted at the sight.

So many hours of his own work. Drenched in blood.

“I’d laid this out for the servants to frame today, and Scratch ran into the bedroom and knocked the goblet of blood — that you left there, completely full, by the way — off your nightstand and onto the dress!” You were waving the grown vehemently as you spoke, voice cracking toward the end.

Oh, his little love was infuriated. His gut sank at the thought.

The anger in your voice sounded entirely foreign, it was rare for you to speak in such a manner to anyone. But towards him? Never. You always spoke to him in soft, adoring tones and little whispers. The only time you truly raised your voice had been in bed, and he rather liked it then.

But this? He did not like this one bit. It made his undead heart thrum with anxiety.

“My love, I—“ He begins, his voice honeyed and smooth in the usual tone he used to appease you, but you cut him off.

“I’m sick of your excuses and your words, Astarion! I’m sick of cleaning up after you! I have asked you more than once to not bring blood into the bedroom and you've deliberately ignored me. And the one time I don’t remove the damned goblet from the bedchamber look what happened! I can’t keep—“

You were crying by then. Large, angry tears rolling in streams down your face as you swiped angrily at your eyes. That dress, and the hours of work he'd put into it, had been a testimony of his love to you. His actions had made your heart soar; seeing the gown ruined caused your heart to break entirely.

And Astarion's heart almost broke at the sight of his little love so distraught, but he had no words nor actions to soothe you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath; he watched as the patches of red faded from your cheeks. When you opened them, the sight scared him and when you spoke, he was terrified.

Your face was blank, unreadable. Your tone was resigned. In that moment, in the absence of any discernible emotion, he felt certain you were going to leave him.

Eight months into a marriage and he was already failing; he knew he hadn't been cut out for this.

“I am very patient with you, Astarion. We both knew this wouldn’t be easy… with well, everything. Your condition, navigating my newfound fame, easing back into normalcy when we both have our baggage... but I chose this. I chose you. I choose you every day. Over and over. A hundred times a day."

You paused, and your eyes flicked between his, searching for something.

“I just wish I felt like you were still choosing me, too.”

And then you were gone. You left the dress crumpled on the floor as you turned and walked away.

As he moved from his desk to pick the garment up from the ground, he heard you call for Scratch and exit the front door. The sun was out, he couldn't follow you. And even if he did, there would be nothing he could say to placate you. He needed to give you time and space and wait for you to come to him; it was something he’d learned over the past eight months. Although he hated it.

So, he stayed in his office, trying to work, and failing at that, too.

After a few more hours, it was time to head to bed. When he entered your shared bedroom, he realized the goblet you'd spoken about had splattered over the sheets and onto the carpet, as well. He removed the goblet from the bedroom and placed it in the foyer; and then he changed the sheets, which you usually did. He waited for you to come to bed, but you never showed. Hadn’t he given you enough time by now?

Eventually he traveled to the guest chambers, certain you must be there sulking, and when he attempted to enter the room, the door was locked. He knocked tentatively on the door.

"Tav, darling--"

"No. And don't you dare pick the lock, Astarion."

"Tav, my sweet, please--"

"Please, Astarion. Please just leave me alone."

He wanted to pick the lock. Wanted to break down the door. Wanted to hold you in his arms and whisper apologies in your ear until you forgave him. But you always told him that his actions spoke louder than his words; honeyed lamentations would not work on you. Another thing he’d learned this past eight months.

And then he thought of the dress, which he'd left draped across the sofa in his office.

While you slept, Astarion set to work. He could have outsourced the task, sure... but truthfully, he did not trust anyone else with the fine detailing work he had spent several hours doing with his own hands. He'd created the masterpiece himself, after all, so perhaps it was best he restores it himself.

He worked gently, and for several hours, scrubbing the blood out of the fine fabric. His time with Cazador had taught him many things, and unfortunately a skill he used more often than he liked happened to be removing bloodstains from nearly any fabric.

By the time the gown was restored, his hands were raw from hours immersed in the harsh combination of soaps, chemicals, and water. It was past noon when he finished; you had certainly risen by now, but you hadn't come looking for him.

Astarion asked Pascal to place the gown in the sunroom to dry and then resigned himself to his office, back to reviewing contracts.

It was several hours later when you knocked on the office door, eyes downcast and face remorseful.

He didn't say anything, he just simply opened his arms and you crossed into the office before folding yourself in his lap. A few moments of quiet passed between you.

"I saw what you did to the dress. It must have taken hours... thank you." You finally whispered as your face nestled into the side of his neck. Your hot breath tickled, and he hummed in acknowledgement.

"It did, darling. And the skin on my hands certainly is not happy about it," He starts, and your hand comes to his as you bring it closer to your face, examining the uncharacteristically cracked knuckles and reddened flesh, "But you are worth the effort. And more. I'm sorry about the cups, my love.”

You placed a kiss on his chapped knuckle. An acceptance of the apology. And then you turned to face him and pressed a soft, tentative peck on his lips that made his entire body melt into you. Before long you two wound up on the floor of his office, and he made sure to use his actions to ensure you knew just how much he cared about you. How much he chose you.

And every day since then, he'd been certain to no longer bring goblets in the bedroom, and always leave them sitting in the foyer for the maid regardless of what room he was in. A tiny daily action signifying his love for you.

[oldmanenjoyer]

Hi it’s the Wally anon! Thank you for answering my question and I wanted to ask for a long request if you’re up for it:

Can you do a Wally x reader who has a secret identity of a supervillain with powers(you can choose the power)? When they are in their disguise, they are loud, bombastic and demanding (like a Disney villain). They don’t hurt anyone but they do often declare the neighbourhood as theirs, demands stuff from the neighbours and ruin major events when they don’t get their way. They even paint on the neighbour stuff to signify that something is theirs. When they are not in their disguise, they are nice, helpful and shy to cover their tracks and no one would guess their true identity. I like the idea of The neighbours talking together about how the villain( you can choose the supervillain name) is such a terrible person and how they plan to get them back while the culprit is helping them bake a pie while they rant. They would never know until the reader falls for Wally. They continue get closer to him and he falls for them as well until after a while, he finds out about their secret( you can choose how he finds out). He then confronts them in their disguised form as they kidnap his friends and he exposes them in secret and says he wouldn’t like to get closer to a bully and they start to go through a redemption arc. All of this is your choice. I’m just giving the form and I want to see it in your writing. I’m excited about it if you ok with taking it on.

No one in the Neighborhood truly understood you. Antagonist as you were, none of them seemed to get that in order to have balance, good needed to be compared to bad. How could you be happy without being sad first? You tried to show them, donned silly outfits and a mask to flock throughout the neighborhood and cause mayhem, truly terrible things that showed them how true happiness felt.

And it worked! Your displays of terror led to the neighborhood coming closer together. Julie and Frank would work together to fix decorations. Poppy and Howdy would remake ruined food. Barnaby and Eddie would call a truce long enough to fetch anything anybody needed. Sally would happily lead the entire gang along. And you? You'd find yourself working with Wally, at the behest of the others.

Seems your feelings weren't as hidden as you thought. But that's okay. None of them suspected you. Why would they? You were what Julie liked to call a shrinking violet. Too much attention had you cowing away from a group activity, no matter how fun. You blushed easily, held hands with everyone, you cried when the villain destroyed your work. You were the last suspect to be on the list.

So how did he figure you out?

Wally was too observant for his own good. His eyes bore into you like black holes, sucking in all the light around them.

You clutched the crumbled paper heart in your hands, ripping it in half.

"You're a bully." Wally said, matter of fact.

"I'm helping the neighborhood." You retorted, ignoring the hollowness in your chest. "Things are too. . . peaceful. Without drama, without a common enemy, you'd start hating one another!"

"No." Wally said with a shake of his head. "We wouldn't. Because we're friends. Friends trust each other." He glanced away, like he couldn't be bothered to look at you. It hurt more than it should. "I trusted you. I thought you trusted me."

You hiked your shoulders up. "The world-"

"The neighborhood loves you." Wally interrupted. He turned away fully now, and you get so mad. But who were you mad at? Him? The world? Yourself? You couldn't tell. "But you don't love the neighborhood, huh?" He walked away, and you stood amidst your destruction, unsatisfied with this result. "Goodnight, neighbor."

You cringed. Guess first name basis was lost.

As you were left alone, your emotions began to rise over you, strong waves ready to drown you in their intensity. The disappointment Wally showed somehow made all of your intentions seem. . . insignificant. You didn't feel justified anymore, even if you knew how things would turn out tomorrow. That is, if Wally didn't tattle on you.

You shook your head.

Maybe. . . maybe you should rethink some things. Maybe the neighborhood was due some peace from villains and drama. And maybe the neighbors, who were all so kind to you, deserved apologies. Sincere ones.

But that could be handled in the morning.

[renamusing]

While the writers keep playing us, here are some future plots to consider after robert comes back (ryan HAS to comeback at this point ok? i wont accept anything else):

Post-prison Denial - Aaron cannot forgive Robert or accept that he is back; he shifts the blame for Liv's death from Chas to Robert because Robert LEFT THEM

Post-prison Blues - Robert deals with his PTSD badly which engages Aaron's redemption arc; he stays by Robert's side and helps him through it

Reunion 3.0 / Seb's return - Robert gets access to Seb (he comes to some sort of agreement with Rebecca or something happens to her offscreen whatever) and seeing Rob and Seb (their son!!) together in the village destroys any willpower Aaron still had to fight against his feelings for Robert

Wedding 3.0 - this needs no explanation

Surrogacy 2.0 - i dont actually mind them going there again if only to get them their Sugden-Dingle daughter

The Return of Andy Sugden - everything is going well for Robert and Aaron but Andy's return shakes things up; the farmboy that Jack Sugden caught Robert with back in the day is working with Andy now; so we get jealousy and misunderstandings and high drama in the Still-Madly-In-Love-Husband front (because that's Aaron innit) and Robert finally tells Vic and Andy about what happened with his dad when he was young.

Teen Seb Comes to Stay - Seb decides he wants to live with his dads at the village permanently (rewashed Liv plot i know but im making it easy for them!!) there are issues with his little sister at first but they get quickly resolved. Seb and his auntie Eve become thick as thieves and become the village nightmares

The Return of Adam Barton - because Aaron needs his mate back at some point and I doubt Vic will settle with anyone else ever

Robron vs Caleb - this just seems like it would be fun idk. it could have something to do with Seb because he is just like his dads and finds trouble everywhere which Robert and Aaron always have to solve in the end

Robert vs Kim&Andy - at this point in my AU Andy is with Kim (romantically or as business partners idc) because it serves the purpose of killing two birds with one stone so that Robert can finally FINALLY win back Home Farm

Robert Sugden's Regression - being in charge of Home Farm ofc changes Robert a bit and he starts to become the thing he fears most: his father. Cue him pushing his children and Aaron to the breaking point until, in true soap-fashion, they break up again. The kids split too. Aaron takes their daughter and Seb stays with Robert. And this ofc leads to:

The Parent Trap: Robron Edition - Seb and his sister plot to get their dads back together through a series of funny shenanigans, but then one of them gets seriously hurt in an accident (they should watch out for those evil farm animals amirite? or was it another drunk driver? only the soap gods know) so all the progress they made crumbles. Aaron and Robert blame each other and seem broken up for good

The Biggest Mugs In The World - Aaron and Robert try to prove to themselves and their kids that they dont want anything to do with each other but every time Aaron sends Robert his divorce papers Robert 'misplaces them' until Aaron finds out Robert has been ripping them apart and chucking them into his fancy fireplace. They fight about Robert being a control freak and Aaron a jealous queen, because every person Robert has flirted with since they separated has ended up fleeing the village with their tail tucked between their legs (Aaron made sure of it). This goes on until they have angry make up sex and then hate themselves for it.

Reunion 4.0 - *PROBLEMATIC PLOT ALERT* Seb and Eve become romantically involved and try to hide it from their families (aunt and nephew fits the Dingle lore somehow lmao). When they are found out Robert goes apeshit and casts Seb out of the village (like his dad did to him once) but he and Seb are at The Layby and before Robert can make the biggest mistake of his life, the love of his life arrives just in time to stop him. Robert realizes what he has become and decides to leave Emmerdale himself (after all, he was always the disaster, the one unable to make anybody happy, he should have never comeback etc) but Aaron won't have it. They can't live without each other, and that fact has never been clearer than at that very moment (shot to a teary-eyed Seb behind Aaron). Robert begs for forgiveness and Aaron just scoffs because forgiving Robert is the easiest thing in the world. They had promised each other messed up forever, had they not?

You know. I know.

[coopigeoncoo]

The 3-Cs of 3-A, Chapter 2: Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

Chapter Links: First, Next

Pairing: Eventual Bakugou Katsuki x Fem Reader (it's a very long way off though)

Rating: Explicit. 18+

Tags: Mineta Redemption, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader, Sexual Harassment, Abusive Parenting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Statutory Rape, Dubious Consent, Underage Sex, Underage Drinking, Domestic Violence, Blood and Injury

Tags are subject to change as story develops.

---

Mineta Minoru is a perverted misogynist whose antics should have had him expelled from UA long ago.

But he wasn’t.

And now it’s your job to fix him.

May God have mercy on your soul.

–--

“Well then, I’ll leave myself in your capable hands,” Mineta purred before popping open the top two buttons on his shirt, sending you a coy look from under his lashes. “Mold me into the perfect hero, Pygmalion!  Make me your Galatea!” he screamed as he ripped open his shirt, buttons flying haphazardly through the air and pinging off the walls and floor.  You throw your arms up to cover your eyes, as though blinded by the pale skin of his belly.  

“Why do you always have to make this weird?” you moan forlornly, already bending down to search along the floor for the missing buttons.  

---

Continue Reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Chapter 2: Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

In which you meet Mineta and things go about as well as you expected.

Flipping through Mineta’s student file took nearly as long as reading through the project outline because you had to stop regularly to scream into your pillow. Once you understood how problematic Minoru truly was, you doubled back to the start of the file to highlight key information. You used green to highlight positive information and pink for areas that would need addressing in order to receive anything close to a passing project grade. When all was said and done two empty pink highlighters lay discarded at the bottom of your trash can and the green highlighter had only been uncapped a handful of times to mark his academic scores, the section that described his quirk, and his contact information.

You were mildly surprised that the paper hadn't liquefied with how much ink you'd applied.

His scores in the practical Hero Course classes were abysmal, his teacher evaluations were scathing, and the stack of harassment complaints from female students was so thick that you felt nauseous just looking at it. You'd think a school that was supposed to be training heroes would have a stronger stance against deviancy and sexual misconduct, but you had a towering stack of evidence to the contrary.

It was highly unlikely that you’d meet the boy who had been assigned this project before you, but you felt a bone deep kinship with him. No one but the two of you had sampled this specific flavor of despair and every fiber of your being longed to follow his example and flee into the unknown, never to be heard from again. Tipping back in your chair, you took a moment to stretch out your back and examine the stack of moving boxes pushed into the corner of the room; the tape still haphazardly sealed across the top and the contents labeled in blocky marker scrawl.

You've been running from a lot of things lately.

It would be so easy- picking up and leaving again; just washing your hands of this whole disaster of a situation. One of your friends could probably make room on their floor for you to crash for the rest of the school year. And then you could start looking for a job right after graduation and save up for a deposit on a small apartment. You could probably pull that together pretty fast if you found a roommate to split costs with.

But even as you looped your strings of thoughts together, winding them up into the beginnings of loose plan, you thought of Kayama; of her genuine excitement to see you when you arrived sobbing and disheveled on her doorstep last week. How she made room for you in her life and in the shoe cubby by the front door; smashing her designer boots together into a single, overstuffed bin to make room for your clearance rack sandals.

Kayama would be sad if you left, probably. She'd be understanding of course, like she always is- likely brushing off her hurt with a crass joke and a wink; but still disappointed underneath all that posturing.

So even though you felt overwhelmed and desperate in every possible way, it was probably time to stop dodging all the difficult matters in your life and address some of your issues head on. This project, at least, was a finite thing; a series of guidelines you could follow until your work came to the inevitable conclusion. The rest of your problems were murkier than that; nebulous and emotional with no good place to plant your feet and start from.

This project was big and faceted and scary, like looking out over a pile of lumber and bricks and being unable to visualize the completed house it would one day be no matter how hard you tried. But every house has a blueprint- instructions to follow that will, nail by nail, coalesce into something greater than the sum of its parts.

Clenching a seed of resolution in your jaw tightly, you flipped back to the front of Mineta's student file where his contact information was listed; his phone number a vivid acid green on the page. Cell phone in hand, you took a deep breath, and began typing.

Even though summer break was in full swing the UA campus was buzzing with students. The facilities offered to the burgeoning Heroes and technical students were unparalleled and most of the student body elected to stay on campus to focus on their training or research- especially the third year students. They were all acutely aware that every squandered moment this year could be the difference between a successful Hero debut or fizzling out into obscurity.

This was a stark contrast to your previous school where you and your friends would anxiously count down the final minutes of class before break; gym bags overstuffed with clothes and snacks so you could immediately scurry to the train station without wasting a single moment of your month off together. Your group would rotate between everybody's houses, picking up and moving camp only when one friend's parents grew exhausted of caring for a rowdy bunch of teenage girls; slipping off into the next friend's house in the dead of night when no parents were awake to tell you no.

You could vividly remember days where you all sprawled out on the floor of one bedroom or another, tangled in comforters with your heads pillowed on each other's bellies as you messaged each other silly pictures and links forwarded from your other classmates. When your legs got restless and the snacks began dwindling you'd all go for aimless walks around town, racing to finish your popsicles before they melted away in the oppressive summer heat; quick games of rock paper scissors deciding whose turn it was to practice flirting with the clerk behind the counter at the corner store while the rest of you peered on eagerly from behind the magazine racks.

Those memories were beyond precious and you knew that you'd look back on them with increasing fondness as you grew older and settled into life. It saddened you a bit that the UA students would miss out on those lazy summer memories, but you supposed they had their own sort of bonding rituals. Just this morning you were woken up by the sounds of impassioned yells and grinding gears as a hoard of support course students raced a cavalcade of robots across the quad towards an unknown finish line; dozens of other students leaning out of their dorm windows in pajamas and robes to raucously cheer on the competitors.

It wasn't doodling cute pen tattoos in the spaces swimsuits didn't cover, but the UA students would probably have similar happy feelings bubble up when they thought back on that break of dawn robot race and the hoard of angry teachers attempting to catch them to reap retribution for their interrupted sleep. While the whole event had been overall entertaining, you sympathized deeply with the staff because you'd been unable to fall back asleep and ended up tossing restlessly for an hour or so before reluctantly deciding to start your day.

You had texted briefly with Mineta last night, introducing yourself and asking him if he was free to meet with you at the library mid-morning the next day. He had responded quickly with a thumbs up emoji and nothing else, which somehow made you unreasonably worried for the rest of the night that your text had woken him up.

Full of anxious energy, you'd packed and repacked your new messenger bag until you were satisfied with the arrangement of its contents and slipped out into the living room quietly.

Kayama was already at the table, wrapped in a shiny satin robe that fell haphazardly off one shoulder. Her head rested in her hand as she slowly sipped coffee from a mug that was styled to look like a curvy woman's torso, complete with bulbous breasts and painted on lingerie. It was absolutely hideous and she owned eight of them in various skin tones and underwear styles. You stubbornly refused to use them and opted to drink out of a soup bowl instead.

She watched you putter around the kitchen for your breakfast, buttering toast and mixing sugar into your bowl of coffee before you slid carefully into the chair across from her.

"You're up early," Kayama said around a yawn, half-heartedly covering her mouth in a token attempt at propriety.

"I think everyone probably is thanks to the robots," you grumbled, peeling a burnt section of crust off of your toast and dropping it onto your plate.

"That shouldn't be an issue again. Those boneheads ended up waking up Eraserhead and he doesn't take kindly to his sleep being interrupted," Kayama grinned maniacally, finger gently caressing small circles into the belly of her mug. "They'll probably still be in detention when their kids graduate!"

You wondered if anyone had ever told Kayama that she wasn't contractually obligated to sensually drink coffee outside of business hours, but maybe this was just how she was. Most of your memories of her existed through the blurry filter of early childhood, which made her somehow feel both familiar and unknown in equal measure; the sharpness of her words often at odds with the recollection of her bright smiles and how gooey her too-tight hugs made you feel.

Shoving another bit of unburnt crust into your mouth, you made quick work of your remaining toast to avoid having to watch her try to round second base with a novelty mug.

Slinging your bag across your shoulder, you rush out of the apartment with a hurried goodbye and the promise to text if you decide to head anywhere after the library. Kayama was a little bit overbearing in regards to you checking in with her throughout the day, but she's never been fully in charge of a teenager before and seemed more comfortable erring on the side of overcautiousness.

The library was situated on the far side of campus, about as far from Kayama's apartment as physically possible, but you arrived with a handful of minutes to spare; skin dewy with perspiration from the unforgiving summer sun and more than slightly out of breath. The frigid air that hit your skin when you opened the door felt like a divine blessing you didn't deserve but were gifted just the same. You made a mental note to show your appreciation by emptying your pocket book into the offering box the next time you managed to make it out to a shrine.

Since you had a literal dossier on Mineta and he didn't even know you existed until sometime after ten last night, the burden of seeking him out fell solely upon your shoulders. Starting at the closest aisle, you wove through towering stacks of brightly colored books and study corrals that were already packed full of students despite the early hour. But based on the distressingly high number of people sobbing into piles of flashcards and notebooks, it seemed like getting an early start on studying was likely a necessity.

Eventually, you found Mineta tucked into one of the tables along the back wall, his fingers furiously swiping across his phone screen as you cautiously approached. Not wanting to disturb him, you quietly pulled out the chair across from him before focusing your attention on extracting a notebook from your immaculately organized school bag. When you looked back up Mineta's bulbous eyes were locked onto you; visibly shaking in their sockets as they traveled around the visible parts of your body.

"Are you the one who texted me last night?" Mineta asked quietly, his eyes finally came to rest in the general vicinity of your sternum, his pupils following the rise and fall of your chest. The large folder of conduct complaints with Mineta's name on it had encouraged you to dress more modestly this morning, despite the oppressive heat, to try to discourage this exact sort of behavior. But you efforts appeared to be for naught since Mineta's leering didn't seem to be the least bit stymied by the challenge a higher than normal neckline provided.

You were only thirty seconds into this meeting and it was already rapidly spiraling into a disaster.

With a sharp inhale you steeled your nerves, put on your most convincing fake smile, and attempted to salvage your introduction.

"Ah, yes!  That was me. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Mineta.  It's nice to be able to meet you in person," you replied cordially, doing your best to convince yourself that you weren't completely lying. Mineta was an absolute disaster on paper, but you still held out slim vestiges of hope that the real life Grape Juice held some redeemable qualities that weren't covered in his performance reviews.

It was impossible to miss the blinding flash and the obnoxiously loud shutter sound of Mineta's phone camera taking a picture of you.  The students at the nearby tables all glared in your direction, upset by the interruption, with a few of the braver ones loudly shushing you before returning to their studies.  Chagrined, you waved timidly back at them; mouthing silent apologies to all the people still looking your way. Mineta at least had the grace to look embarrassed at the group chastisement, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand while he typed on his phone with the other when you spun back to face him.

"Oops! Sorry about that!" Mineta winced, smiling at you widely before setting his phone down on the table. "I like to add pictures to everybody's contact information. It makes it easier to keep all my messages straight, you know?"

The phone in your pocket buzzed.  Normally you wouldn't check messages when meeting with people, but sometimes Kayama would remember that she was in charge of you, panic, and then send a flurry of texts at you until you responded.  Last week you had forgotten your phone while walking to the store to grab some ice cream and Kayama had sent out a BOLO alert over the Hero Network when you didn't respond to her messages.  A patrolling Hero had tracked you down in the checkout line and you'd had to endure the most mortifying ice cream purchase of your life before being escorted back to campus.  Once you were safely delivered back into the care of a hysterical Kayama, you had to sit through a long lecture about your carelessness before she proceeded to eat all the ice cream you had bought in an effort 'to help her calm down'.

Not in any hurry to repeat the events of last week, you unlocked your phone and quickly checked your messages; surprised to find not a message from Kayama, but instead an alert from one of your social media accounts.  You opened the app with practiced taps and were incredibly unimpressed by what awaited you.

"I see," you hummed thoughtfully. "So you were just setting my contact picture and not, oh, I don’t know- posting it on your Tweeter account?" you hissed incredulously, flipping the phone around to show Mineta the photo he took of you only moments ago; a fuzzy pink heart filter framing the edges with the caption 'The Future Mrs. Mineta Minoru' accompanying it.

Mineta’s smirk was unrepentant as he shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

“I need you to delete that photo, Mineta,” you said, swallowing nervously when you thought about what Kayama might do if she found out a boy was attempting to pursue you. It was a toss up between putting you under house arrest or having her become hyper-invested in your love life.  And while having to finish out your senior year virtually would be less than ideal, the idea of Kayama peppering in questions about your sex life over dinner was by far the worst case scenario.  You knew for a fact that Kayama followed all of her students on social media, so it was only a matter of time before she would see that update and your homelife would, once again, become unlivable.

“Please,” you beg sincerely when he doesn't move to pick up his phone.  

Maybe Mineta wanted to start your project partnership off on the right foot, or perhaps the celestial bodies around Jupiter were aligned in a mystic and powerful configuration; but whatever the underlying reason was, Mineta was moved by your plea.  He let out an exaggerated sigh, as though deleting a post was some Herculean effort and not something that people accidentally did with their butts a couple times a year.

Throwing a grateful smile his way, you pivot slightly in your chair to root through your bag for a pen when you’re interrupted by your phone vibrating once again.  A couple of taps brings your homescreen up, a different app’s alert now present in your icon tray.  You open the new app and curse quietly inside of your heart at your short lived relief.

"Delete that one too, Mineta."

A look dawning realization spreads across Mineta's face; a volatile mix of deviousness and delight that immediately made you wary. "You're following all my social media," He says, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Our first meeting and you're already obsessed with me!  I get it. Heroes just have that draw."

Rolling your eyes, you settle back into your chair and watch in horror as your phone begins to whirr uncontrollably as alert notifications began to arrive in rapid succession.  Choosing an app at random, you open it up and are greeted once again with your heart framed photograph. 

"Bet you can't find them all," Mineta challenged, fingers still flying across his phone screen as he grinned over the table at you.

Eyes narrowing dangerously, you paused to consider your next move.  Social Media Management had its own subsection in your project overview binder- allowing Mineta to freely post nonsense like this would guarantee that you'd lose dozens of precious grade points due to his inability to professionally curate his online image.

"Wanna' bet?" you challenge, pulling up the next app and before rapidly pasting 'delete this' into the comment section.  A loud cough pulled both you and Mineta's focus away from your phones; drawing your attention to a glaring student two tables over as they gathered their study materials into an extra set of arms before stomping away.  Mineta and you shared a sheepish grimace before you both switched your phones to silent and resumed your game of cat and mouse.

FaceSpace?  Check. 

MyBook? Gotcha. 

Stumble?  Not on your watch, Grape Face.

"So, what do I get when I win?" Mineta asked, confidence practically oozing from his words.

This felt like a trap. This was probably a trap. Your previous school experience hadn't prepared you to deal with adversaries.  Like the naïve civilian you are, you'd focused on making friends instead of cultivating rivals.  But UA probably had an entire course dedicated to it; 'Challenging Challengers: How to Successfully Oppose Opponents' or something like that.

"What do you want?" you questioned warily as you tagged not one, but three, different LinkedUp accounts.  Mineta swore quietly at your discovery, but his smile didn't waver.

"I want something personal.  A lock of hair, a bra, some panties, a pair of socks; whatever you feel most comfortable parting with," Mineta grinned.

You felt nauseous. "I don't feel comfortable with any of that."

Mineta merely shrugged and went back to typing.  Four more notifications flooded your phone screen while the idea of Mineta curled up at night, your unmentionables pressed to his face, ran through your mind and soured your stomach.  But the looming prospect of failing your project so quickly and spectacularly made something inside you start to burn.

You didn't fail.

You never failed.

And you'd be damned if this perverted little gremlin would tarnish years of academic excellence and toil because you were squeamish about parting with some hosiery.

But you would do this on your own terms.  No way would you relinquish your best of anything to the likes of Mineta Minoru.  Should he win, Mineta would be the proud recipient of the ugliest set of miss-matched novelty socks the world had ever seen while you'd pretend they went missing in the wash so you wouldn't have to think about the events of today ever again.  Repression was the name of the game here- you'd push down all of today's memories so tightly they'll form diamonds in your mind; tiny and jagged and buried so deeply in your subconscious they'd never see the light of day again.

Sighing deeply, you flagged his post on Grinding. "Okay."

"Really?!" Mineta gasped, jaw dropping in disbelief.

A chorus of shushing rang out around you as more students abandoned nearby tables, cursing and grumbling as they filtered away.

"Yes, really," you whisper harshly. "So long as you agree to my terms.  If I win, I want full control over your official social media presence.  If it uses your face, your costume, your legal or hero name, it's mine to curate until I turn this project in March.  I'm talking passwords, long-in credentials; the works.  Nothing gets posted without my approval first.  You can have alternate accounts for private stuff, so long as it's discreet and can't be traced back to you."

Mineta paused in his typing, examining your face as he pensively scratched at the side of his head.  Apparently satisfied with what he found buried in the grooves of your furrowed brow, Mineta nodded resolutely and stuck out his hand towards you.

"Deal," Mineta said, taking your palm into his and shaking firmly.  His grip was surprisingly strong for how small his hand was and you got the impression that he could easily break a couple of your fingers if he were so inclined. Gulping uneasily, you tried to withdraw your hand only to discover it was stuck to his, like there was some kind of glue holding them together-

You groaned internally; miserably-

His quirk.

His stupid, sticky quirk.

"Do me a favor and make sure to wear whatever you're going to give me around for a couple of days before you hand it over. You know, get your personal fragrance in there nice and deep," Mineta purred, his thumb running across the back of your hand, caressing your skin gently as he spoke. "That way I'll know you didn't just buy something new to play off as yours."

He winked at you as a strange bubbling sensation crept across your skin, dissolved the gelatinous layer adhering you together.  Your hand felt cold and slimy, the same sort of way that cheap hand sanitizer feels after it dries;  the clammy sensation only slightly dissipating after you frantically wiped your hand off on your shirt.

Closing your eyes tightly, you breathed in.  And out.  And in again.

With your shoulders squared resolutely, you crack your neck and tighten your grip on your cell phone case.

It was time to get to work.

The battle waged on for hours with both you and Mineta hyper fixated on your phone screens, each fueled by a singular desire to emerge victorious. You, because you value your academic career above all else; and him, because he’s a perverted little snot goblin who wants access to your panty drawer.

As desperate as you were to win, the battery life on your phone was quickly dwindling.  You'd already tried all the usual tricks to conserve power; airplane mode, lowering your phone’s brightness, engaging power saving mode- but as your battery life dwindled down to the single digits you knew it was only a matter of time before you hit zero and your phone powered down.  Based on his frantic expression, Mineta seemed to be in a similar position. 

With a defeated groan, Mineta threw his phone down on the table, the screen as dark as your future seems to be. He methodically cracked each his knuckles before he began rubbing the stiffness out of his wrists, smirking confidently up at you as he worked.

“Right before my phone died I still had around a dozen pictures posted that you hadn’t managed to find.  I can’t imagine you’ll be able to track them all before your battery hits zero, so why don’t we just call it here?  You forfeit, we go grab some shaved ice to celebrate my win, and then you can slink off to the bathroom to take off my prize,” Mineta breathed, practically vibrating in his chair in excitement.

Eyes wide in horror, you watch as a little bead of drool began to trickle out of the corner of his mouth.

With a blanch of disgust, you practically tear open your messenger bag and began rooting through its contents with one hand, still rapidly typing with the other.  Your hand finally closes around your prize and you smile, making eye contact with Mineta as you deposit three portable power banks onto the table; all of them fully charged and able to keep your phone running long after the library is set to close.  Mineta deflates instantly, cradling his head in his folded arms as he moaned despairingly into the library table.

Reaching across the table, you touch his hand tentatively, checking for any adhesion before assuming a more comforting patting motion.  You're able to tag three more pictures of yourself as Mineta gently sobs, tears pooling onto the table top.  Eventually you take pity on him and reach into your messenger bag once again, this time pulling out a small pack of tissues and placing them down beside his shaking hand.  Mineta grasps blindly at the package, tearing open the plastic wrapper and stuffing wads of tissues around his face to dam up the flow of tears still pouring from his eyes.

Another picture gets tagged as you slide him a second pack of tissues.  This time you hear a watery ‘thank you’ filter out from inside the walls of Mineta’s arm fortress, and even though you don’t want to; you can't help but feel a small pang of pity for the blubbering mess of a boy across from you.  He'd had no way of knowing that you were the designated Mom of your friend group; the person always loaded down with emergency supplies and feminine accouterments- just in case.

Sighing in resignation, you move to pack up your bag and give Mineta's shoulder a gentle shake.

“C’mon, Mineta,” you mutter begrudgingly. “Let’s get out of here.”

While there was no way in any circle of Hell you’d be willing to give him a consolation bra, you decided to be a gracious winner and treat Mineta to some shaved ice.  You didn’t know him well, but since he'd specifically mentioned it during his premature victory speech you figured it was likely something he enjoyed.  After shooting off a quick text to let Kayama know of your whereabouts, you led Mineta off school grounds and towards the shaved ice stand you’d spotted on your ill-fated ice cream expedition the week prior.

Mineta was quiet during the entire walk there, only speaking up to order his treat; which was the largest size available and, of course, grape flavored.  In a show of solidarity you also asked for a grape shaved ice, but with some additional whipped cream and mochi bits so you’d have something to snack on if the grape flavoring was too reminiscent of your childhood cough syrup for you to power through.  Desserts in hand, you plop down onto a couple of overturned milk crates in front of a shuttered laundromat a little further down the street.  Mineta made for a pitiful sight, despondently poking at his shaved ice with a spoon and carving little divots into the side.

“I've gotta' say, even though I managed to find all the photos in the end, you sure gave me a heck of a run-around,” you conceded as you spooned a chunk of mochi into your mouth, watching as Mineta perked up a bit in your peripheral vision; his spine straightening ever so slightly as he scooped up an overly large spoonful of melted grape slush.

“Really?”

“Oh, definitely! It took me nearly forever to find that FishermenOnly.com account," you readily assure him.  "I really liked that profile picture you used there. How long did it take you to photoshop yourself onto that crabbing boat?”

“That picture is from over Spring Break, actually.  I went home to help out my Dad and Uncle out on their boats for a while.  The only thing photoshopped in that picture is that glorious beard I’m sporting,” Mineta said as he stroked his chin longingly. “I can’t ever even get a beard started.  Been trying to grow one ever since puberty hit.  It seems like the sort of thing chicks would dig, y’know?”

You didn’t know, having never really thought about attracting women before or what that process could possibly entail, but you hum in acknowledgment anyway.  A few moments pass before you’re suddenly struck by a critical, burning question.

“If you could grow a beard, would it be like your head hair?  Like, would it be a Quirk powered beard like Endeavor has?”

Mineta turns to you with wide eyes; stricken with dread by the notion. “Oh. Oh no. That would be awful! It would look so dumb!  Can you imagine all of this,” Mineta waved broadly around the top of his head with a spoon filled hand, “but on my face?”

Leaning back on the edge of your milk crate, you take in the full view of Mineta's face and try to imagine it- rows of bulbous purple protrusions jutting out from Mineta’s weak chin and full cheeks. 

It wasn’t a flattering look.

“It’s…probably for the best that you can’t grow one.”

Mineta grunted thoughtfully and licked at a drop of syrup creeping down the side of his bowl.

“It would totally look like I had a ballsack on my face,” he mused offhandedly as he licked at another drip. “I’d have to change my hero name; ‘The Blue Ball Hero: Nut Juice!’”

You couldn't help but snort involuntarily at his loud proclamation, which made you angry at yourself because not only had you inhaled some shaved ice wrong, but your positive response would likely only encourage more of Mineta's bawdy humor in the future.

“Oh, geeze,” you say as you cough up purple tinged phlegm into the crease of your elbow. “What are you, ten?”

“Yeah, ten inches sounds about right,” Mineta’s cackled, expression positively luminous as you delivered that punchline to him on a golden platter.

“Please stop,” you beg, consumed by another coughing fit as Mineta laughed at your distress; head thrown back as he lost himself in mirth- a far cry from the despondent boy that had accompanied you out.

That night you sat in your room, a plate of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets cooling by your elbow ("This is what kids eat, right?" Kayama had asked uncertainly while delivering them to your room alongside a juice box with a googly-eyed cartoon apple on it).

Morosely, you stared down at the to-do list you'd created before heading out to meet Mineta that morning, all of the items under today's date still unchecked and mocking you with their unaltered, pristine condition.

Compare class schedules Select (tentative) study days Survey of Hero goals Brainstorm Agency ideas/preferences

A harsh clicking sound filled the room as you bounced the back side of your pen furiously on the corner of your desk.  An entire day had passed by and you didn't have a single thing to show for it.

Well, that wasn't completely true.

Unlocking your phone, you quickly scroll to the bottom of the chat log between you and Mineta; double-tapping on the picture he had sent you earlier in the evening.  A slightly blurry selfie fills your screen- Mineta winking cheekily with globs of his hair lining his jaw in gelatinous clumps with the caption 'Nut Juice bids you good night!' printed across the top.

With one last click of your pen, you make some quick amendments to your checklist:

Compare class schedules Select (tentative) study days Survey of Hero goals Brainstorm Agency ideas/preferences Introduce yourself Establish dominance Get to know Mineta Try grape shaved ice Brainstorm new Hero names

Satisfied, you lean back in your desk chair, bite the head off a stegosaurus nugget, and smile.

[aniseandspearmint]

Generally speaking, I don't read much silvergifting. There are a few, but I just don't generally vibe with the inherent betrayal and death that comes with it. (tbh the ones I like are usually post canon redemption type things)

However, I think I just figured out how to make the pairing made of pain and betrayal worse!

So like;

Sauron is evil, but terrifyingly smart. He knows an 'emissary of the Valar' is going to fall under instant suspicion. So he digs deep inside himself for the fragments and impressions left of who he was in the years of the lamps, before Morgoth, and carefully builds them into a shell of sorts, and then compresses himself down within them and falls into a kind of torpor.

Annatar was entirely wholly sincere. He woke, and knew his Purpose, and truly thought he was what he said he was.

He had NO IDEA he was Sauron.

He's perhaps a little flat, at first. One dimensional. But he's curious and bright, and learns voraciously, growing into a person at a rapid pace.

His love and joy in Tyelpe was real.

He left after creating the rings because he Had To (meticulously laid compulsions guiding his actions) and had no idea what truly drew him onwards. He just needed to complete his Purpose and then he could return to his Tyelpe, he could go home, he just needed to do One Thing-

It hurt, when Sauron killed him, ripping apart the shell of another person he'd created. One more murder in an endless sea of it.

Annatar understands, Sees in that last moment and helpless to stop it. His last thought before he is subsumed is of that last evening before he left, looking over sheets of drafting paper, charcoal covering his fingers, Tyelpe's bright grin and treelit eyes gleaming at him from across the table.

Sauron opens his eyes and Smiles.

(Brain, why are you like this? This is UNNECESSARY.)

[deliciousstrangeobject]

get to know you better tag

thank you @shareyoursunshines

three ships: Genji/Mercy (Overwatch), Vax'ildan/Keyleth (The Legend of Vox Machina), ....aw jeez, a third one? I'm just barely a fandom person again, uhhhhh...

first ship: Haha, RobinxStarfire from the Teen Titans animated series. Look, you can even see I did an "x", that's how engrained your first ship can be.

last song: Nothing is Safe by Clipping (for a drawing I'm doing, on repeat. Also a dope song.)

last movie: Stand By Me! I'm going through my Stephen King read-a-thon and I realized I'd never seen this one. It held up, honestly.

currently reading: Firestarter for the SK read-a-thon.

currently watching: Amphibia. I'll be honest, it didn't grab me until the Prison Break episode but now I see the appeal.

last thing I wrote: "The funeral had been awful, selling the house even worse. Dad could use the break, and he sure as hell deserved it.

That, and any work he left behind allowed me to bury my own feelings."

currently writing: Fandom-wise, I'm writing a redemption arc for Gideon Gleeful from Gravity Falls. Not that I think he needs one, but that I'm interested in what would be necessary to make that happen. So far, lots of therapy.

Original Work-wise, something tentatively titled The Star Jar. When unpacking her old belongings after moving out, a woman finds a glass bottle full of paper stars, made out of 20 ripped up postcards. With them is a note imploring her to travel to these places and find new things, as she has never left her small town.

@w0lp3rtinger @voiceofthetunnels @mercuryhomophony if you want to :)

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

9/7/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription Part 3

Commentary part 2

And Ezekiel obeyed. He did. And then he spoke out, and new tendons and new skin were formed. And then he told him to prophecy to the breath. There was a very specific process. There were very specific steps that he instructed Ezekiel to make. And as he prophesied The process to which he spoke to came To be. Now don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with believing that things that are dead and gone. To believe for their rebirth, but just as the seasons, just as the natural progression of life, there is often a process. And we so badly want to avoid the process to grab the instantaneous, the supernatural. And if there is anything that God is, he is supernatural, is definitely one of the things. But so many times I know him to be the God of process. And there's usually that one next necessary step that he's asking of us to do, because we are so often part of the process of the supernatural. It requires something of us, usually. And it's usually Something hard. But we are so unwilling to do the hard, we will avoid it as much as possible. I'm telling you what I don't have anything to scientifically back it up, but process usually requires us  We are usually Necessary. To the process, for example, sometimes when you encounter marital problems, You hear the testimony. God healed our marriage. He restored our marriage, and we rejoice and praise God. Thank you, God, for your supernatural healing of our marriage, and we leave out the process of restoration. Well there There was 15 months of counseling. There was a separation. We went down to separate bank accounts even It was hard. We mourned the loss. We wrote up the papers twice. We ripped up the papers. I surrendered my pride. They surrendered their need for control. There's the process, there's the necessary steps that had to happen for restoration To take place, situation after situation that we could talk about, I've shared my own journey of depression. Some people can say God healed me of depression and some people can say God is healing me of depression. I have prayed it away, I have fought it away. I have wished it away. I have medicated The way I am still in the process because it is not a one-size-fits-all. But the hard part was to step out and admit that there was something wrong. Can we please swallow our pride and find safe places and be safe places to admit I am not OK The process of children coming home.That have walked away And maybe they've walked away from What you have taught them to believe, but maybe they are walking away to find God in a whole new way. And are we releasing them to the process Of their own faith are we trusting in the One completely That knows them, that knows the hairs on their head, that knows them by name, that loves them far more Than we can love these children that he's entrusted us with. We're just going to end today with the words from the Valley of the Dry Bones. And I am asking us to just sit as the music plays out today for whatever Rebirth, redemption, renewal You are believing for. I ask us to sit in the quiet today and ask God, what is the first step To the process. What are you asking me to do that I have possibly not considered that you want me to be a part of this redemption story? The Lord also said to me, son of man All the people of Israel are like these bones. The people say our bones are dry and our hope has vanished. We are completely destroyed. So prophecy, Tell them this is what the Almighty Lord says, my people. I will open your graves and take you out of them. I will bring you to Israel. Then my people, you will know that I am the Lord, because I will open your graves and bring you out of your graves. I will put my spirit in you, and you will live. I will place you in your own land. Then you will know that I, the Lord, have spoken, and I have done it. Declares the Lord 

[ziracona]

S3 of Stranger Things was so bad I went from liking & having emotional attachment to the show to not like caring at all anymore. I could have written such a better S3 going off just the planted plot threads from seasons 1&2 (especially s1) like you had so much to work with why was it that level of badly done rip.

[animeomegas]

I just had an idea about itachi being absolutely mortified when he knows Sasuke is sexually active. And it’s not like he listens in on them or anything it’s just when Sasuke first start having sex he can’t help but be a little louder than he would like. So itachi is absolutely ashamed to know his brother is impure. He can’t really talk but! He still is surprised( not really) but this also happens with all the other boys too!

Iruka and Naruto have a serious talk about consensual and safe sex. He reprimands him but understands(wink)

Kibas mom has a dark look and he has a devious one wishing his alpha goodbye and kissing them sweetly while they rush out from his house trying not to get a hit to the face by his sisters.

Shino’s dad stays quiet and avoids the conversation. Until Shino asks him what he should do when his alpha whimpers in bed. His dad blushes hard and says that it’s just a normal reaction when they feel good. The two couldn’t stop blushing I swear!

Neji oh neji his uncle walks by and neji get louder trying to rub it in his uncles face that he doesn’t give a shit. That he and his alpha love each other and that his up tight ass isn’t going to do anything.

Yeah I feel like it was funny 😄

-Short stack

Sorry! It’s kinda long

This is hilarious, thank you so much for sending this in 😂 @voodoogoul

Sexually suggestive content below :)

You're right, Itachi is absolutely mortified when he gets proof that Sasuke is sexually active. He had a suspicion, but he was quite happy living in denial, so to get proof is quite jarring.

I was imagining something like Sasuke walking in without realising he's covered in hickeys and Itachi's soul just vacates his body for a moment, but your scenario is even more dramatic lol.

Maybe Sasuke and his alpha, about 16-18 years old (idk what Konoha's age of consent it rip) making the most of Mikoto's and Fugaku's extended council meeting. And Itachi was just coming over to grab his pup's favourite toy that they left there... And he hears some... things. Itachi blinks once and then promptly grabs the toy and leaves as fast as he can, looking like he's seen a ghost. An irrational part of him want to storm in there and separate them because they're too young to be doing that! But Itachi would be a hypocrite and Sasuke would probably try to kill him, so that plan is off the table. Instead he just goes home and vents to his alpha about the horrors he just experienced.

Iruka is a very responsible parent. He blushes then different shades of red when he walks home early from work (for once in his life) and hears Naruto doing... things. So, he just calmly leaves and does his paperwork at a nearby restaurant, and by does his paperwork, I mean he has an internal crisis about how to handle this while he stares at a blank piece of paper. He also has a minor freakout about becoming a grandparent too soon.

He goes home at the time he'd normally be home so no one is surprised, and he asks his alpha to help him give Naruto the talk. They sit Naruto down, who is probably a bit embarrassed they his parents figured out what he's been doing but he handles it okay. Iruka really stresses consent, you're right, and also contraception. And he asks to meet the mysterious person over dinner as soon as possible, just to make sure they're a decent person.

Kiba is shameless!!! Him and his alpha walk out of his room after the sexy times so the alpha can leave, and his mother and sister are just sitting at the kitchen table staring at them both. Kiba's alpha is fucking terrified, understandably so, but Kiba just grins and gives his alpha the most flirty hug and tongue filled kiss he can. Hana and Tsume are not impressed, but Kiba just blows his alpha a kiss and then shoves them out of the door before his family can tear them apart. lol

Shino's dad seems like the sort of parent who has no idea how to go about teaching his son about sex so he just silently hands a 12 year old Shino a book on the topic and leaves immediately lol. And then Shino starts acting weird when he's an adult and says he needs to talk to his dad about something. It's the most awkward conversation that he ever existed, but Shino asks something about how he should make himself appealing to his alpha sexually because he doesn't know and he doesn't want them to leave him. Shibi almost ascends to a different plane when the question comes out of his son's mouth. Eventually, Shibi says he should be himself, but that if he's worried, Shino should ask his alpha about it.

Aww, as hilarious as it would be for Neji to rub it in his uncle's face, I don't think he would unfortunately. I feel like Neji wants to shut his uncle out of his life as much as possible. In a world where he manages to get pregnant, Neji doesn't tell his uncle at all. He waits until the rumours reach him after Neji has started showing. But if his uncle ever did overhear Neji and his alpha during their alone time, I think he would just quietly leave. I think if this was after he'd started his redemption arc, he'd be happy that his nephew is happy finally and just quietly leave and never mention it again. If he was still being an arse, he'd still leave quietly, but he might stir up a fuss if Neji and his alpha weren't married yet.

These were stunning headcanons 😍 Thank you so much for sending them in! @voodoogoul

[hoaqins-funk-house]

Springtrap

Yandere

Male Reader

Part 1

Sitting in the black swivel chair, you spin once or twice before coming to a stop, grimacing at the feeling of sticky floors beneath your shoes. This place is brand new, how the hell are the floors sticky? 

Actually, on that note, how is everything so covered in dust?

Sighing, your mindless fidgeting comes to a stop as the phone, just as dinky as the walls around you, begins to ring. You pick it up but put it back on the table, eyes drifting to the laptop and swing-out tablet. When you flip the former open, you note the four buttons, each relating to something you would have to reset when it comes time to. The latter has cameras that are scattered around, including a separate tab for vents. There’s an option to block off vents, which sends a chill up your spine as you glance to the big ass one at your side.

You decide to block that one off for now.

Humming, you familiarize yourself with the layout of the place, deciding to ignore the shadows that crept through your vision.

Your unenthused eyes scan and take in everything. The replicas (you had seen the originals, and they were permanently stained with both the smell and color of pizza sauce and lawsuits) that were in and around the office, as well as the little bobbleheads that sat on your desk of the animatronics, which were, for some reason, human? You boop the one who you assume to be Freddy, hearing the familiar squeak. 

A small smile comes to your lips.

It was at this time that you realized you had completely ignored the man on the phone, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. 

The little drawings that were put up were authentic; not just anyone could recreate what a child's mind spits out and decides to draw. 

That Freddy looks a bit fucked up.

The posters were cutely designed, and after getting the gist of what everything was and how everything works, you were on your phone the rest of the night.

When six strikes, you casually leave, giving the building a quick once over as you leave the doors, locking them behind you.

If every night is going to be like that, this is going to get boring.

-

He’s stuck.

This suit traps him like a rabid dog, eager to stay gripped onto his neck.

Still, things would be changing soon.

He can feel it.

He can feel it as a fresh breeze, the first in many years, hits his nostrils, sending a wave of euphoria through his system. The bloodied musk that hung in the dank room was not a pleasant one.

He can feel it as his body accepts this new host, more and more, until soon, quite soon, he will become one with his vessel. 

Just as the animatronics before him did.

He ponders. 

Why was he being freed from this prison of his own design?

Is he being taken somewhere?

…

Will there be a night guard to terrorize?

A grin takes to his broken lips as he ignores the pain and blood that comes from them. Oh, a night guard! Truly, that will be a sight!

He can't wait. 

For now, however, he must play dead.

My, that voice that shouts with excitement from behind him…

It sounds so familiar.

"Bring the truck around!" He calls. "I found one, a real one! It's got the rips, the weird colors, and what I am going to assume is pizza sauce! Ohohoh man, I hit the jackpot with this one! Fazbear's Fright needed something, and here it is!" 

His congratulatory tone made the man within the suit want to throw up. Finding him was nothing to be happy about; he is despicable, incapable of redemption, and an awful being. 

And you know what? 

That's just the way he likes it.

So to have someone happy to find him, especially for their own purposes?

He won't let it stand. 

Yeah, if this place has a nightguard, he'll kill them without mercy before burning the entire thing to the ground.

Might as well make it fun for himself.

As light peeks through, clearly originating from a flashlight, he feels his pupils shrink, resisting the urge to let out a groan as his weak eyes ache from their decades of being in the dark.

"Whoahoh! This one looks gnarly!" The same man as before speaks, probably referencing the organs and tendons that were showing. "C'mon, let's get it up!"

His grin only grows as two people lift him onto a dolly, beginning the move.

Goodbye, saferoom.

And hello, Fazbear's Fright.

-

Humming, you walk into the building, skimming over the decorations once more before noticing something.

The papers that had fallen onto the ground from before, they had dirt on them. Not surprising on its own, but when they were in the shape of tire tracks? 

You decide to follow them, using your memory of the cameras to guide you through the building, which was already rather linear anyway.

Entering the last area, you could see a rather dilapidated animatronic suit, with organs visible and its fur matted with blood. Real blood. The old Springbonnie suit was nearly green from how old and dirty it was.

Your eyebrows raise. "Is that guy just stupid or did he knowingly bring in a suit that has a dead body in it?"

Honestly, you didn't care. "Eh, whatever. It'll probably start moving when I start my shift… I've heard those rumors about the other locations." You turn, stretching, unaware of the eyes that followed you or the head that turned your way.

Damn, does he want to kill this one?

Well, he can think it over more soon. After the merge.

He grins again, feeling his uneven, gouged skin begin to flare with pain.

You exit the room fully, making your way back to the office with all the urgency of an ADHD-riddled person doing laundry.

Which is to say… not much.

You fall into the chair, cursing as the thin mesh cushion does nothing to protect your tailbone from the metal frame of the chair. The phone rings not a moment later, you picking it up and laying it on the table again, eager to ignore it just as you had done before. You stretch again, arms raising above your head as you begin to flip through cameras, finding the rabbit in the same spot it was in before. 

You yawn.

Hopefully it starts moving soon, or else the entire reason you took this job would be unfulfilled. 

You were bored, and you remembered this place from the times you had gone with your younger brother, who was now in his early twenties. You, however, were 28 years of age, with nothing better to do than 'investigate' the Fazbear's Fright that opened up. Still, if that rabbit has a corpse in it, it should make things more fun.

As you lazily flip through your cameras, you set it down and look to the side, seeing a rather dirty looking man with an eyepatch and fox ears. To his confusion, before he could lunge at you, you reach out and swipe a hand through his chest. You continue to swipe forwards and backwards, the incorporeal man stuck standing there until you leaned back.

"So, you're a ghost."

His mouth opens as if to retort, but he just gives up and leaps at you, you not even looking at him anymore. He closes his mouth halfway through the jump, and with an unsatisfied sigh, he disappears.

You continue flipping through the cameras, checking in on the rabbit a couple of times before shoving the tablet out of the way, opening the laptop to have it ready and sitting back in your chair.

You glance towards a shifting figure in front of the window, the hat and bear ears telling of who it is. He limps along, eventually falling beneath your view before seemingly phasing through the wall and leaping at you. You stare passively as he does so, him not completing the jump to instead stand in front of you, confused. 

For shits and giggles, you wave your hand through his chest once or twice.

"Why… aren't you… scared?" He croaks, voice ruined from years of no use.

"Oh, was I supposed to be scared?" You genuinely ask. "Uh, sorry. If you do it again I promise I'll hyperventilate."

"Don't try to… lessen your survival chances…"

"Okay. My bad." 

He sighs, and after annoyedly rubbing his face, he disappears.

You flip out your cameras once more, finding the screen obscured by static and a small error in the center. Lazily, you reset cams.

When your screen clears, you check the rabbit. He looks… strange. Like his body is evolving in front of your eyes. 

To be honest, you don't give enough of a shit to watch a potentially world-changing discovery if it looks that gross. You aren't paid enough to, anyway.

At this pay grade, you even coming into the damn building is volunteer work.

You check your phone for the time, seeing a cool time of one in the morning. 

"Aside from that science experiment gone wrong happening in the back room, it's still really damn boring."

However, it's still not boring enough to watch that transformation or whatever. That corpse (well, at this point, you kinda doubt it's dead) can do whatever the hell he wants with that suit. It's his body, not your business.

After another fifteen minutes of staring at a wall, you check the cameras to the sound of loud clicks and pops, now seeing a heavily scarred man with 1.5 rabbit ears in place of the suit. He takes one step out from his original spot, body heaving forward before he lifts himself up, looking up at the camera with a grin.

"Huh. That's new." You say, watching him jolt forward, continuing to take steps before relearning how to walk smoothly.

It only takes him a moment to rocket off.

"I doubt that's good." You mumble, beginning to flip through the cameras to follow him before playing a sound in the room behind him, making him pause. He turns, walking back with a confused expression.

Continuing to flip through cameras, you watch as the man, who you'll dub Rabbit Guy, wanders, seemingly having lost his focus. Hearing a sound to your left, you pay no heed to whoever it is, instead waggling your hand in what you would assume to be their torso.

"You're strange…" They say.

"Uh-huh. If you'd excuse me, I am currently working on keeping Rabbit Guy the hell away from me." Your voice is monotonous but sincere; you aren't trying to be sarcastic or mean, just trying to tell them the facts.

Glancing to the side, you see that it was a child, so you were waving your hand in his collar. "Oh, my bad. Does that… make you guys uncomfortable?" You ask, retracting your hand.

"No, we can't feel it." 

"Huh." You blandly respond, playing the sounds to lead Rabbit Guy back to where he started, before resetting sounds as you weren't able to play them anymore.

It seems like Rabbit Guy is getting progressively more and more annoyed at being led back, if his attempts to move fast enough to avoid the sounds or block out his ears meant anything. 

His body was responding to the sounds, not him.

It was then that he disappeared, so you check vents, finding him in one that led directly to the room beside your office.

You block it off, much to his annoyance, before yawning and sitting back as any thumps you hear from inside the vents come to a stop. 

You find him standing in the room where he had entered the vent, irritated as he glares at the camera. Preemptively, you reset all, thankfully right as cams and sound go out. 

Sighing, you lazily check through cameras, brows slightly furrowing as you look for him. He was completely gone, not in vents or in rooms. It really is unfortunate how many blind spots and shadowed areas there are.

When you hear the thumping of the vents, you search through them, only finding a stupid knick-knack laying on its side halfway in your sight.

Looking to your side, you peek into the vent, leaning down to see if anything was there. Your gaze meets Rabbit Guy's. 

"Shit." You say, quickly switching cams over to this one and holding down the seal button. 

Your eyes shift back to him, finding him way too close for comfort. As you lift your finger to let the gate close on the vent, the man (who was crouch walking) catches it, forcing it back up. You hear something grind that definitely shouldn't be grinding, and you have a feeling that that vent cover just might be broken.

Getting out of the vent, he stands over you, waiting for some sort of plea or… literally any response at all.

"So, you, uh… come here often?" You ask, leaving him genuinely at a loss. 

"Wh- was that a pickup line?" His rough, baritone voice catches you slightly off-guard. 

You weren't expecting something that was pretty much a zombie to have such a good voice, or a slight british accent for that matter. "Was it? Shit, more people've flirted with me than I thought."

"Really? That's all you can come up with before your death? I'd hate for those to be your final words." He lightly teases, leaning against the wall with a mean grin. 

You look up at the ceiling with a vague smile, his eyes widening momentarily. "To be honest, of any place to die, I'd much rather have it be in a place where I know I'll reach the front pages than in some random alley."

His grin falls into a frown as he watches you turn to him, the smile still on your face. It feels strange.

He feels strange. 

Why does a random night guard make him feel so…

So… comfortable?

You were calm, collected, not making any sudden moves or even attempting to exit the chair. Theoretically, the perfect prey, but not a satisfying kill. 

If he even wants to kill you, that is.

“What’s your name?” He asks, watching as you spin to face him in your chair. You would be taller if you stood, but he would still have a few inches on you.

“Y/N. You?” 

“I’m… William. Or, rather, I was, when I was well and truly human.”

“And now?” You ask.

“I don’t exactly have a name.”

“Can I still call you William, then? Well, if I live long enough to do so?” You ask, eyes moving up to meet his. Looking up at him like that… He wishes the hot feeling in the pit of his stomach would go away.

“...Fine.”

“I mean… are you going to kill me?” You ask, face not shifting as he glares down at you. 

“I won’t kill you on the first night, you need to give me more entertainment.” At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Oh, so we’re both here for the same reason.” You blankly say, his face contorting from a glare to confusion once more.

“You’re here… for entertainment?” He slowly asks, answered by your nod.

“I’m certainly not here for the pay. This place gives like half of minimum wage but I can’t complain about it because the other part is supposed to come from tips. Somehow.”

“How do you even live?” 

“Well, right now I’m on an paid leave due to some unfortunate deaths in my family. To be honest, I never really cared for any of them, but hey. I’ll take any chance for a break I can. Then I got bored.”

He huffs out a laugh. “So you went to another job on your break?”

“Listen, getting a month off leaves a man with little to do when capitalism has left me with no hobbies. Besides, this gives me a great excuse to continue avoiding people.”

His lips curl into an amused grin as he leans forward, lowering his head to be eye level with yours. "Well, you won't be avoiding me." He practically purrs, you averting your eyes at the tone he uses. 

Why would he say it like that?! 

His golden eyes follow you as you close the laptop's screen, enjoying your reaction. You…

He'll keep you around. 

You're entertaining and friendly. Open, and… warm.

He wonders. 

You're human, and fully alive. He's a revived corpse who merged with his vessel. You probably are very warm compared to him.

When he comes back to his senses, he notices you slowly raising out of your seat, hand outstretched towards him. 

Well, might as well take the chance.

He grabs your wrist, looking down at you unimpressed. You quietly huff, falling back into your chair and forcing him to move away from the wall in order to not dislocate your wrist.

Well, his hypothesis is correct. You are very warm. 

He feels the tightening in his gut, not wanting to let go but knowing that he will have to.

You, however, don't actually care either way. You begin your attempt again, this time with your left hand. Slowly raising out of your seat, you actually manage to stand fully up before he notices again, grabbing your other wrist. 

"What are you even trying to do?" He asks, a light sneer on his lips.

"Well... uh, I was trying to… boop your nose? If you're bonded with one of the original suits, then I figured either you or Fredbear would have the sound effect."

He lets out a few short laughs, his sneer replaced with the same amused grin as before.

"I'm afraid neither of us have the sound effect. That only came about with the second and third generations of animatronics."

You hum, interested.

His eyes quickly scan over you, taking in your form. This position, practically holding you hostage… Needless to say, he didn't dislike it.

Still, he releases you as he catches you glancing at what he assumes to be a phone. Things have advanced quite far since he was trapped. 

You turn it on quickly, checking the time. “Well, we have around an hour and a half before my shift ends, so…” Pausing, you check the time again. An hour and a half?

He steps closer, you glancing back up at him before leaning back as he leans forward, looming over you. “Tomorrow, you best make this more fun for me. I’ll greet you, but then I’ll head to the back. Try and stop me from getting in.”

“Uh, sure. Are you still planning on making the punishment for loss, uh, death?”

His eyes narrow in coordination with a widening grin. “That’s for me to know. You either figure it out, or you don’t. It all depends how well you play.” His gruff voice slightly echoes in the mostly empty building, you nodding in response. 

“Oh, cool. Can I tell my brother about you?” You ask suddenly, him quirking a brow as he stares down at you, easily at least half a foot taller than you. He was always tall, but now that he’s in this new form, he grew to be somewhere from 6’6 to 6’8. You sit down once more, exacerbating the height difference.

“Feel free to. Just know that if he ever comes around here, he won’t be alive for very long.”

“I doubt he will. He’s always preferred Foxy the most because he has taste, but-”

“Taste? For liking that liability-strewn fox? You like him as well?”

“To be honest, I never really liked any of them more than the other. I was in my emo phase when I went to see them, so it was practically illegal for me to like anything. But Foxy had sharp teeth and a wicked lookin’ hook, so… I guess I did.”

He hums, clearly slightly annoyed.

“Are you jealous that I liked the fox more than the rabbit that isn’t even the same generation as you?”

“I really should kill you.” His irritated expression shows the truth to your statement.

“It’s okay, I’m willing to call Springbonnie my favorite.”

Now, William was confused. Your tone… you weren’t joking. You were being genuine about something as stupid as this? What is with you?

“You’re very confusing. I think you joke, and then I listen to your tone and you’re genuine. But still, I wouldn’t mind if you did so.”

“It’s not nearly as confusing as how time passes in this place. It’s been like ten minutes since I met you but the clock says like three or four hours have passed.”

“What? Really?” His brows furrow as he steps closer, finding another excuse to close the distance between you both as he leans over the chair, seeing you pointing to the screen. “How strange…”

“Yeah. It doesn’t seem like tomorrow’s hunt will last for six hours, then. Thankfully.” You sigh.

“What, do you not want to feel like my prey for six hours straight?” He grins, leaning over further until his arm rests on your shoulder.

You shiver. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Because it makes you react, obviously. It’s entertaining to watch you squirm from something as simple as... the tone of my voice.” Of course, in order to prove his point, he does exactly what he did before, lowering his voice a few pitches and upping the growliness of it.

In covering your eyes, you also cover your cheeks, which have gained a slight flush. “William, I am begging you. Please, please, please, stop talking like that.”

And, naturally progressing, he was left somewhat stunned by the sound of your pleading tone. There’s just something about it, especially as you say his name, that makes him want to…

...makes him want to chase, and capture, and possess forever.

You as his prized prey, and him as the hunter.

“I’ll use it when necessary.” He vaguely answers, watching your head droop.

“I’ll take what I can get.” You concede breathily. 

He chuckles, hearing the chime of a bell, signifying 6 in the morning. "Well, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then. Don't keep me waiting."

"Asshole. I won't." You turn your head away from him, hiding the flush on your face, and stand up, stretching. "See ya, William."

He hums, eyes tracing your form as you stretch. It was a nice view, watching the button up shirt crease around your back as you stretch, clearly hinting at the muscle beneath. His eyes did drift lower once or twice, and that's how he figures out that damn, you have a really nice ass!

You begin to walk out, and he follows you with his eyes, watching you turn past the replica Freddy husk and unlock the door, exiting into the fresh morning. His eyelids droop, gaze slipping up as his lips curl into a wide grin.

“Y/N… I won’t kill you. Especially not when I’m presented with such an ample opportunity to make this into something so entertaining.” 

Well…

Is that the only reason?

Of course, he knows it isn’t.

His grin falls, leaving him coldly leering at the aged panels above him before his sight shifts back to the room around him. As he exits the office, he glances at the stained and shaded glass of the door, not allowing much, if any, light in. He turns away, heading back to where he was originally.

As he walks, he lets his form shift, feeling his body grow to his previous monster rabbit self, the creaks of his metal joints loud in the silent building. 

He ignores any shadows that creep in the edges of his vision, the specters traversing without sound. 

“This is going to be… boring.” His voice, far rougher than before, comes out unfeeling and croaky. As he returns to his previous position, slouching over once more, he decides to use his old tactic to pass time; inflicting enough pain on himself to fall unconscious. It doesn’t matter if his dreams are infested with darkness, nor how much he suffers in them. 

It was better than the boredom of sitting in one position with an unchanging environment.

He begins forcing his muscles to flex and strain within the suit and pull against the beams they have welded to, making him grit his teeth before the searing pain fades away, along with his vision.

Goodnight, Y/N.

-

“Yo.” You greet your brother, the man tiredly yawning as he ruffles his hair.

“Heya, Y/N. What’re you up so early for?” 

“Well, I got bored and got a night shift job at this dinky little horror attraction opening up next week. I decided to tell you about what happened there before I head off to sleep.”

“You got bored during a break from your job so you… got another job?”

“Y’know, William said the same thing.” You say, your brother narrowing his eyes at you.

“A coworker?” He asks. 

“Eh, not quite… he is the reason I stayed up to talk to you, though.”

He hums, walking around the couch you were splayed on with your shirt half unbuttoned. 

“So, to begin my tale, you remember Freddy’s? The pizzeria with the animatronics?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“Well the horror place I went to is based off of that; it’s filled with replicas and a few actual things from the pizzerias of the past, but something came in tonight that was… different.”

“Which was?”

“An animatronic. One of the originals, Springbonnie. Granted, the suit was ripped to shit and covered in enough dirt to be green, but it was authentic. It even has the dead body! Well - not so dead body, but still visible.”

“Did you call the cops?” He asks, worried.

“Hell no! I’m not paid enough to give a shit about what could-or-could-not-be a dead body. Either way, he transformed into a human, which was rather odd, but-”

“Just to be clear, this rabbit had a dead body inside and transformed into a human, and you don’t question it?”

“No. Continuing on, he got into my office and then we talked for a bit, I learned that his name is William, time passed really weirdly, and then we struck a deal where I have to keep him out of my office or I'll maybe die.”

“You’re still going back there?! And ‘maybe die?!’”

“Yeah, he said the knowledge about whether or not I die from losing the hunt was ‘for him to know.’ I didn’t question it further.” 

“You know, Y/N, sometimes it feels like I’m the older sibling. You’re fucking stupid.”

“I’m well aware.”

He leans over the couch, glaring down at you. “Then wisen up and quit that damn job.”

“I’m good. William is good company.”

“He threatened to kill you!”

“And? He hasn’t. Yet.”

“You infuriate me, gayboy.” He says, stepping away from the couch.

“Cool. I’ll sleep here for now, when you get back from work I’ll definitely be up.”

“Whatever.” He waves his hand at you, ignoring the middle finger pointing his direction from behind the couch’s back.

---

Part 2

also a lot of the stuff i write from now on may be male reader inserts lol

heres my springtrap design

here's the updated design lol

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Wait For Me // D.M.

Request: hi! can you do a request where draco performed the obliviate curse on his gf before the war, then met her again post war when he became a healer? the storyline is up to you! by the way, i really really like your fics 🥺 - anon

A/N: This request let me explore all the things I love: angst, healer!draco, and redemption. Thank you for trusting me with this request, I love it so much. This was not also on my WIP lost but I had an idea and I ran with it. With some hope, my next few fics will be from that list!!

Warnings: angst, mentions of nightmares and injuries, some anxiety, short words and tempers, swearing. A HAPPY ENDING or at least the start of one.

Word count: 5.2k

1996:

“You know why I have to do this, right?” Draco whispers: worried that if he were to speak any louder his voice would give away how close he is to breaking.

You nod once. A solemn nod that juxtaposes the tears falling freely down your face. How could you be agreeing to this when it made you feel like your heart was being ripped out?

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, arms reaching for you, the urge to touch too strong to resist. “If they used you against me or if you got hurt, I would never forgive myself.”

You hush him; not missing the irony of the situation. To be comforting him when you were going to have a large chunk of your memories taken from you, it was almost laughable.

The final few moments together are spent in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, getting as much of the other as possible before inevitably having to let go. You bury your face in his chest, almost refusing to let go of him as he unhooks your hands from around his waist.

The time has come; it’s come too soon.

You barely register Draco’s tears mixing with yours as he hauls you in for one last desperate kiss. His forehead remains pressed to yours as he whispers three words.

“Wait for me.”

Then everything goes blank. A flash of white and your life begins anew.

No memories of the last year of your life; no thoughts about the blonde haired teenager that had occupied your mind and stolen your heart.

There’s nothing.

Five years later:

The strong antiseptic smell has your nose crinkling in distaste. The overhead lights buzz as the bright light bounces off the overly clean floor; it makes your head hurt more. You place a tentative hand to the side of your head, frowning further when you feel the large bump growing there. Removing your hand, you sigh, remembering the tears of the pupil that had done this.

Not long after the war, a new decree was issued setting up centres of education for young witches and wizards that showed magical promise. They operated extremely similar to a muggle primary school; however these followed the curriculum created by the Ministry of Magic.

It was in one of these schools that you worked, choosing to train as a teacher after finishing your education.

A rogue ball is what had landed you in the emergency room of the only magical hospital in Britain. It had come out of nowhere; the children playing happily as the weather had improved over the course of the day.

Tapping your foot impatiently off the tiled floor, you had to admit to yourself it had been partly your fault for not seeing the ball before it knocked you on the side of the head and subsequently knocked you to the floor. The child, a young Hugo Ward, had felt terrible – sobs wracking his body as he apologised to you over and over again to the point where you had to reassure him you were fine.

An hour after the accident, it became evident that you were not fine. The dizziness and double vision being symptoms of something worse, your boss had sent you off to St. Mungo’s without room for argument, promising you she would cover your class for the rest of the day.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” calls the triage nurse. A blonde middle aged lady with bright eyes and a kind smile; she points in the direction of exam room two and you flash her a grateful smile.

The hospital bed is uncomfortable as you take a seat on top of the crinkly paper. The pounding in your head had not stopped since you arrived but the dizziness was calming somewhat, and for that, you were thankful. It happens as a flash; a memory washes over you of a large hospital wing, two rows of beds and an elderly lady with fierce determination written over her face.

A single blink and it disappears. The flashes hadn’t happened for a while; the aftermath of a memory charm inflicted upon in your Sixth Year at Hogwarts. It wasn’t known who had done it; they had found you wandering the halls of Hogwarts alone and confused before realising what had happened. You had recovered fairly quickly; the only aftermath being the flashes of what could be memories.

You sigh, sinking further into the gurney as you think of the pile of marking waiting for you at home. Even a sore head couldn’t put off the inevitable.

The Healer doesn’t look up as he enters, pulling the curtain closed behind him, “I’m Healer Malfoy, how can I help you today?”

You sit straighter as you take in the healer. Blonde hair down to the nape of his neck, tied back with what seems to be a leather cord. He hasn’t looked up at you yet, but from your spot, you could tell he was handsome. A strong jaw being home to a distracting mouth. You look away, admiring the rest of him before you could be caught staring at his lips.

Healer Malfoy’s face slackens for a second as his eyes rake over your face. He collects himself after a second, but still, you noticed. He clears his throat, looking down at the chart in his hand. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

You nod, “That’s me.”

“You hurt your head at work?”

Again, you nod, “Twice over. A pupil threw a ball at my head by accident, but I knocked my head on the playground as I fell.”

Healer Malfoy places your chart on a nearby table, pulling latex gloves out of his pocket as he does so. He smiles at you, but there’s something guarded about the expression on his face that has question after question springing up in your overworked and pained mind.

“Did you lose consciousness?” Healer Malfoy asks routinely, silently gesturing to your head, asking for permission to feel the injury.

“No,” You answer, turning your head for him to feel the bump on the side of your head.

You hear his sharp inhale as he examines the large bump there. As if seeing you hurt physically hurt him too, yet how was that possible? Thinking through your admittedly fragmented memories, you cannot find a whisper of what the blonde haired man could have looked like younger. Something niggled in the back of your mind, a feeling, a hunch. You didn’t know what, but it got stronger every time you met the grey eyes of the handsome Healer Malfoy.

“This is going to sound odd but go with me on it please?” You say, voice lilting into a question at the end. The idea of not giving this man in front of you a choice simply abhorrent to you.

Healer Malfoy smiles: it’s polite and doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes a step back from you, needing the distance but also done with the examination of your injury. “Okay, I’ll go with it,” He states warily.

Your hands clench into fists; overcome with the urge to try and coax a smile out of him. “I don’t know how else to say it. Do we know each other? You feel familiar to me, as if I know you from somewhere.”

Whatever smile was on Healer Malfoy’s face falls the instant the words leave your mouth. His entire demeanour changes – shoulders stiff, hands gripping your chart so tight it could snap in half. Unclenching his jaw, Healer Malfoy grits out, “No. We haven’t met before.”

“Are you sure?” You press, deciding desperately that you needed to know the man standing in front of you.

“Very sure,” He murmurs, scribbling your discharge notes and handing them to you. “I would remember you if we had met before.”

The blank confession leaves you speechless. Blinking in what could only be described as shock, you take the outstretched papers.

“Your prescription is there too. You show no major signs of a concussion, just rest for tonight at least and watch out for anymore footballs,” Healer Malfoy starts, “Should you have any more problems, you know where to find us.”

Taking the dismissal for what it was, you hurriedly grab your bag from the gurney and leave the exam room, taking extra care to hide the dejected look on your face as you pass the handsome healer.

Draco watches you go. You all but sprint out of the hospital, almost desperate in your escape to get away from him and his short words.

The threat has been gone for years; vanquished not too long after the night Draco had taken your memories, after the night that continues to haunt his nightmares.

Draco Malfoy had faced the Dark Lord and lived – he has stared death in its sallow face and was not the first to look away. Yet, Draco was ever more terrified of what you would do should your memories ever return. Your rage was entirely more terrifying than staring into the soulless eyes of the man his parents so blindly followed.

Draco releases a breath as he spies your figure finally leaving the hospital. The released breath does nothing to loosen the tightness in his chest; the tightness that had been there since that fateful night in the astronomy tower.

He’s had this argument with himself countless times, always the same words and the same fight. His own justification for why he did what he did; why he took your memories of your relationship and sent you away. Deep down, Draco knows that he should have communicated better. He knows that he should have sat you down and explained to you his worries and his fears. However, at barely seventeen years old, Draco was just getting used to the idea of love. He knew what was coming; he knew that there were dark times ahead and he was unfortunately aware of how you could be used against him should the time come.

He had a decision to make, so he did. Thinking back on it now, it had almost killed him. He had never experienced a pain like it. Draco had been hit with the Sectumsempra curse and the pain that followed was nothing compared to the pain he felt when erasing your memories.  

Draco turns away from the door. You’ve disappeared around the corner; your head bowed, and shoulders hunched. He has no reason to watch you now. He turns away from the door, wondering whether it was fate that had brought you back into his life after such an absence.

An absence he caused.

-------

You return to work the day after; feeling fine enough to stand in front of your class and deliver your lessons of literacy and maths but also of spellcasting and magical control for infants. You followed your lesson plans to the letter; resolutely refusing to stray from them should they let your mind wander to the handsome healer and his cold words.

The healer continues to play on your mind for the rest of the week: at work, at home. You would go over the brief conversation you had with him; wondering at which point his demeanour changed, that he became closed off and cold. He hadn’t been welcoming from the beginning, but by the end of it he had downright cold. It should have warned you off; it should have been warning enough to keep your distance and to do your best to ensure you never needed to return to the emergency room, yet there was something about him. There was something hidden within his grey eyes, a dark secret ravaging him from the inside out and you felt desperate to know what it was.

-------

As much as you adore your vocation, as much as you love coming into work and greeting the children with a smile, there was something sweet about sending them home to their parents. A sweet relief that loosens the weight on your chest somewhat.

A shock of blonde hair has you turning back to the school gates. Your breath catches in your throat as you recognise the handsome face of the healer that had treated you only a week ago. His face not one you felt like you could forget.

“Healer Malfoy?” You call out, confused at his presence.

He smiles bashfully, “Draco, please.”

“Draco,” You greet. “Do you often make home visits?” You tease, a smile crossing your face.

“Technically, I’m at your place of work so this would be a work visit,” Draco comments, laughing lightly, seeming to be in a much better mood than the last time you had met him.

Your smile grows larger at the sound of his laughter. “Okay… do you often make work visits?”

He shakes his head, “No. I do not.”

“Why are you here?”

“Two reasons.”

“And they are.”

“One, and one I thought of just now – I wanted to apologise for my behaviour at the hospital the other day, I was rude, and it was out of line so I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I doubt that you get asked by many of your patients whether you know them.”

Draco smiles, “You’re right, I don’t, but nevertheless, I shouldn’t have been so rude, and I apologise.”

“Then I accept your apology, only if you accept mine.”

He goes to argue but stops himself at the last possible moment. You meet his gaze head on, watching the emotions pile up there. There’s something lingering in his grey eyes; something deeper as if he has more to apologise for but he isn’t ready to confess to what or why he even needs to say more.

“What was your second reason for being here?” You question, curiosity piqued but also wanting to move the conversation on, unable to look into his grey eyes any long for the fear that your heart may burst out of your chest.

Draco smiles, “I’m picking up my godson.”

“Your godson? Do I know who he is?”

“You might. Tobias Dawsey?”

Recognition flashes across your face as you picture the small brunette in your mind’s eye. “I do know him! I taught him last year,” You all but shout, “He’s your godson?”

Draco nods, “He is. I’ve worked with his mother from my very first day at St. Mungo’s, she asked me to be godfather when she found out she was pregnant with him.”

His words warm your heart; the care he has for his godson obvious in his voice. You go to say more, to try and coax more information out of him. Your need to know him almost choking you with its intensity, but for the life in you, you couldn’t figure out why you needed to know him. You move to speak, but you’re interrupted by the excited crow of a young child.

“Uncle Draco!” Tobias shouts, running up to his uncle on his little legs, his bookbag banging against them with every step.

“Hey kiddo,” Draco greets, picking up the child making grabby arms for him.

“Do you know Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Draco nods. “Miss (Y/L/N) came into work the other week,” He states, thankfully not exaggerating further.

Tobias frowns, turning his attention to you, concerned about his favourite teacher, “Are you okay though?”

You smile at the young brunette, “I’m all better. Your Uncle Draco fixed me up.”

Tobias nods seriously, “He’s the best Healer ever.”

You laugh; the love Tobias has for his godfather so clear within his voice, it only warms your heart further. “I have no doubt in that, Tobias. Off you go anyway, I wouldn’t want to keep you from getting home.”

Tobias and Draco wave at you as they leave the school grounds. The smile on your face doesn’t fade as you watch them walk away, the young boy chattering the ear off his devoted uncle.

Deep down, where you would only admit to yourself and no-one else, you hoped that you would get to see the handsome blonde healer again.

-------

Over the following weeks you spy Draco’s presence more by the school gates. Tobias clearly adores him, sprinting into his uncle’s arms the moment he sees him waiting for him. Crossing your arms across your chest, you comment, “You must be a very devoted godfather to volunteer to pick up Tobias this often.”

Draco shrugs nonchalantly as if the task of reorganising his shifts was nothing of a chore, “I enjoy spending time with him and…”

“And?”

Draco ducks his head, feeling the familiar heat of blush creep up his neck, “I like talking to you.”

He feels like it’s the wrong thing to say. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say. If he had an ounce of human decency within him, he would turn away from you the moment Tobias arrives. He would walk away from you, never to come back into your life again. What he did all those years ago was unforgivable despite having your permission. Draco knows he shouldn’t be back in your life, but now that he had seen you once or twice, he had to see you more.

He felt like an addict. He couldn’t leave you alone. Draco didn’t want to if he was honest with himself especially when you grin at him so widely his heart pounds in his chest.

You duck your head, your hair hiding your face. “I like talking to you too even if it is only at the school gate,” You shyly admit.

“Then we should change that,” Draco stutters out before he backs down. He wants to kick himself; he should turn away from you now and leave you alone for good, but that one selfish part of him that powers his heart tells him to stay put.

If possible, your smile grows larger, “Then we should change that.”

------

The friendship feels so natural once it starts; once the both of you get past the initial awkwardness that seemed to loiter from Draco’s cold words earlier in the year. It started with longer conversations at the school gate, but then he would come with Tobias’ mother and wait for you as Tobias would reluctantly leave with his mother. From there, it grew into a timid friendship that slowly grew more surer of itself as you invited Draco out for food or to museums or to spend the weekend with you, walking around the city when he wasn’t working.

However, as the friendship became more solid, you could not ignore the way your heart sped up with every smile and every laugh. You could not ignore the way your face heated each time he winked at you; a private joke shared between you. It didn’t feel like a passing fancy. It felt like something deeper, as if the feelings had been there before and had been dormant until now. You felt as if you were always meant to feel this way about Draco – the feelings tugging on memories you weren’t even sure were yours. Flashes of blonde hair and the powerful scent of jasmine all tied in with late nights in a tower you could barely recognise. Draco made you feel like the only person in the world; he was supportive and kind and funny. He was everything you could want and more – how could you not fall for him?

There was still the remaining secret though. It haunted him; his eyes clouded over whenever it was on his mind as if he was returning to the very memory itself. He would return shier, unsure of himself as if the friendship he had forged with you was about to implode and leave him shattered once more.

You ask him about it once. The two of you sat on your couch; you introducing Draco the wonders of muggle films and showing him your favourites when you catch him zone out. Your finger reaches out, pokes his cheek. “Where did you just go?” You question, a smile in your voice.

Draco reaches out, grabbing your finger, “Nowhere of importance.”

You frown, pulling your finger out of his grip, “You do that a lot.”

“Do what a lot?”

“Disappear on me. It’s like you have something big to tell me, but you just aren’t ready yet.”

Draco feels certain his heart stops in his chest. He tries to laugh but it comes out strangled; choked by the worry creeping up from his gut. Draco opens his mouth to reply but you beat him to it. “I’m not saying you have to tell me what it is now,” You start, “I just want you to know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Draco closes his eyes, rests his head against the back of your couch. You had so graciously opened your home to him, opened your life and offered friendship to him, and he felt awful. As he should, he thinks to himself. He had taken memories of importance from you, and here you sat, unaware of the crime and sitting with the criminal himself.

It felt like there was a countdown ticking over his head. It felt like he only had a certain amount of time until he had to come clean and he had to tell you about that night in the astronomy tower.

Yet for all that was in him, for all that created his moral compass, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you and ruin whatever was blossoming between the two of you. Draco supposes he is a coward. He probably is, he tells himself, but he cannot bring himself to care about his cowardice when you smile at him like he holds the sun and stars for you.

Does he regret that night? With everything within him. Would he do it again knowing the outcome? Of course he would. He would sacrifice himself  and his happiness a thousand times over to ensure your safety.

---------

Draco tells himself he’ll confess the next time he sees you which is both all too soon and not soon enough. His love for you had never faded; he hadn’t been the one to forget the short relationship you had. The intensity that accompanied teenage love and infatuation had never left the forefront of his mind. After all, how could they? Now that you were back in his life, he felt the teenager again – utterly drawn to you and unwilling to let you go.

He confesses late on a Tuesday night. The shift at St. Mungo’s had been long and arduous, but he got through it with the single thought of you. He knew that at the end of it, he would get to knock on your door. He only hoped that you wouldn’t turn him away once you found out the truth. Your hatred of him could never rival the hatred he feels for himself, but he finds himself hoping for your forgiveness.

“I have to tell you something,” Draco states, plain and simple.

You chew on the inside of your cheek before answering, “You can tell me anything.”

“You had a memory charm used on you in Sixth Year, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?” You demand. Despite the friendship grown between the both of you, you hadn’t told him that. You had given him bits and pieces, alluded to the fact that there were gaps in your memories, but you hadn’t told him the truth. Just like he hadn’t told you what made him disappear inside his mind like he so often does.

“I took your memories. It was me.” Draco confesses, his voice clear in the quiet room.

“What?” You shout, anger shooting through you.

“I took your memories. I used a memory charm on you in the middle of Sixth Year when things started to take a turn for the worst.”

“What gave you the right?” You cry, tears building out of upset and anger.

“You did,” Draco states plainly, “You didn’t want to at first, but you came round to my way of thinking when you saw how bad things were getting at home.”

“Why would I agree to that?”

“Because once upon a time, you were in love with me.”

You shake your head, pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to get to grips with the piles of information only just dumped on you. Draco watches you pace; his grey eyes following each step intently as you work through everything in your head.

Worry shines bright in his eyes when you stop pacing. He goes to take a step towards you, but you step back. The small space between you feels like a great chasm, a gaping void that Draco is desperate to fill, to patch up.

“Tell me everything,” You state before adding on, “Please.”

Draco releases a shuddering breath before starting: “We were friends through school. I don’t remember how the friendship started, but it did and for years we were really good, close friends. Then along the way, the friendship changed. We fell in love, or whatever it is at sixteen/seventeen years old. We had less than a year together when things started to change; when whisperings of the Dark Lord’s return were strengthened by continued attacks on the Ministry.

“You argued with me for hours,” Draco pauses, laughing as he remembers what you clearly couldn’t, “I had never seen you so angry or so stubborn. You were adamant, you didn’t want to but then you went quiet and I knew you saw what I had seen. You agreed after a minutes silence; told me yes even though it broke the both of us to do so.

Draco’s grey eyes are lined with unshed tears as he murmurs, “I couldn’t let them have you. My family was working with the darkest wizard there had ever been in the last century, if he had gotten a whiff of what you meant to me, you would be used in ways that not even I could imagine. My aunt would have taken great pleasure in ensuring that you would be a bargaining chip for me to fulfil whatever mission they handed me. That was something I couldn’t allow.

“It broke me to do it. To watch your eyes go blank as the memories of what we shared disappeared. Selfishly, I asked you to wait for me, not knowing that they would be tied to you afterwards. I just… I couldn’t let you go. As a teenager and an adult. There’s no real excuse for what I did, but know it was out of love for you that I did it.”

Draco falls silent. His heavy words adding to the growing tension in the room. Draco’s mind runs a thousand miles a minute; his eyes don’t leave you as he watches you work through every emotion coursing through your body. He sees the anger, the sadness, the frustration, but he also sees the relief at having an answer for those gaps that you had only recently confessed to him.

You break the loaded silence, “I forgot the relationship, but on some level I don’t think I ever forgot you.”

“What?” Draco asks, the air rushing out of him in one fell swoop.

A smile creeps across your face; relishing somewhat at having caught him off-guard. “I have glimpses of what I always assumed was a past life. The memories were always fuzzy around the edges, but they were clear enough for me to catch glimpses of blonde hair or to spy the pattern of a ring much like the one on your signet ring.”

Draco remains silent; he doesn’t dare talk; he doesn’t dare breathe. Nothing prepares him for your next words.

“I waited for you… like you asked.”

Those words. Those foolish words that he had absolutely no right to whisper to you. Draco had been so overwhelmed in that moment, yet he couldn’t ignore the small kernel of hope that despite the strength of the memory charm, a part of you would remember him and would wait for him.

But you had.

You had waited for him. You barely knew who he was, but you had waited for him, hoping that one day he would cross your path.

“Fuck,” Draco whispers, running a hand through his growing hair, starting to pace the length of your living room.

“When I woke after my memories had been taken, I clearly didn’t remember a single thing, but I had the echoes of three words ringing in my ears. A beg, a plea of someone – a boy asking for me to wait for them. I didn’t know completely who I was waiting for, I didn’t know it was you until I saw you at the hospital that first time and then again so soon after leaving. My memories haven’t returned, and I doubt they will, but I just know that it was you who I was waiting for.”

Draco falls silent, letting your words fall over him and sink into his skin, settling deep within his bones.

Years. It had been years since that night in the astronomy tower where he took your memories. It had been years since he felt the longing and love; there had been no-one lese and there would be no-one else. For Draco, there was only ever you… and you had waited.

You had waited for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Draco repeats, hands continuing to run through his hair in frustration as he paces the room. He faces you; grey eyes wild with emotion, “How are you not angry with me?”

“I am angry with you! I’m furious with you, Draco! You took my memories, but if you say I agreed to it, I’m just as angry with myself for allowing myself to forget you.”

“What do we do?” He asks, a hand running down his face as he tries to figure out the next step.

“Forgiveness,” You state simply, “We try to move on.”

Draco’s hands drop limply at his side as he gasps, “Forgiveness?”

“What happened after you erased my memories, Draco?”

“There was a war. I was on the wrong side,” is all he says. He isn’t ready to go into too much detail. That’s another story for another day.

“Was that what you were trying to protect me from? The wrong side?”

Draco nods wordlessly. He saw things going south so quickly but his parents hadn’t. They pushed and they pushed; inducting him into the same pureblood fanaticism they relished.  “How can you even think of forgiving me? I took your memories. I stole them from you, and you won’t ever get them back,” He argues, wanting to know whether you truly understood what you were doing by forgiving him.

“Let me ask you something, Draco.”

“What?”

“Do you plan on leaving again?”

He shakes his head immediately. He doesn’t think he could leave you even if he tried.

You shrug your shoulders, “That’s how I can think of forgiving you.”

“I don’t understand,” He whispers; his own self-hatred confused by your words.

“The wizarding war was about to descend into war. We were confused, scared teenagers who didn’t see another option. You asked my permission, Draco, and I granted it clearly.”

“But-”

You cut him off, “No buts. I said yes. I gave permission and we cannot change the past, Draco but we can control our future. It’s going to require work on both sides, but you can tell me about what I’m missing and at the same time we can forge something new.”

“What do you mean?”

You smile shyly, taking that all important step towards him, “Make some new memories with me, Draco.”

*****

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @liilyevanss @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey​ @kashishwrites​ @justmesadgirl​ @detroitobsessed​ @reaganwonders​ @just-a-belgian-girl​ @aspiringsloth20​ @lahoete​ @minty-malfoy​ @fallinallinmendes​ @ravenclawbitch426​ @ochrythum​ @beiahadid​ @gryffindors-weasley​

[millllenniawrites]

fun in the meantime (FO! Poe Dameron x f!OC)

part two of when the stars miss the sun

written with @vampirewithbedsidemanners

words: 2.4k

warnings: dark!ooc!Poe Dameron (if you want specifics, dm me); smut (rough sex, slight dubcon moment, praise, 'good girl' used); prostitution; established relationship (sort of); slow burn (yes the two can coexist leave me alone); redemption arc; Pixar ending; murder; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: i love this story and im so excited to share it with you guys. this one is as cute and soft as it gets before everything gets very very dark (though please do heed the warnings cause it isn't just happy times)

__

Red woke up alone in sheets that still felt warm and soft like his satin skin. Her Admiral… not that she could let him know how ingrained in her mind he had become over the last three years. Just like every time before, he left her with the taste of him lingering on the edges of her senses, keeping her from the biting, harsh reality of the universe they lived in.

The house was beautiful and grand without being over the top, just as out of place as he was in everything. He’d told her the night before that the house was the only thing he had to his name outside of the Order. She believed it. There was something to him that made her believe that there really wasn't anything else out there for her beautiful, lost man.

She left the safety of his bed, padding across the warm floors and out into the hallway that fed a large central spiral staircase. It extended down all five stories to the basement, where they’d dragged out boxes of files the night before prior to shutting themselves in his office to work.

She hadn’t had the chance to see enough of the beautiful house. Later, when she had a moment, she would explore the place that seemed to be an extension of her Admiral. She would let her hands roam over the banisters, the same way they had caressed across the banded muscles in his thighs as she rode him, giving over her body and heart and soul before she realized that she was.

Red crept silently down his stairs. She followed the sound of fingers on a screen to his office, where they'd spent much of the night before. His uniform jacket was still in a ball on the ground where she'd tossed it after ripping it off him. The papers he'd swept off his desk to make room to lay her on it were still scattered all over the room.

Poe was sat at his desk, hair mussed from sleep. The collar of his threadbare shirt was stretched out, and he played with the edge of it as he studied whatever was on the screen in front of him.

Nothing about him appeared like he was a feared Admiral of the First Order.

When he finally noticed her standing in the doorway, he smiled softly. "Did you sleep okay?"

She padded over to him, easing down into his lap. Something about him put her at ease, when everything about him should have sent her running. Quietly, she threaded her fingers through his hair, tilting his head back so she could gaze into his eyes. “I missed you.” Her admission was quiet, timid, sweet... with no hint of the deadly resistance intel Captain that was actually sitting in his lap.

“Just thought I’d get a head start this morning ‘nd let you sleep.” He’d snuck out of bed before the sun had risen, intending to finish up the packaging of intel that he’d neglected the night before before returning to her. If he had the restraint to resist her, he may have finished the work, but he couldn’t deny himself the little temptations that made him feel alive.

Time had gotten away from him in the early morning hours, as it tended to do.

There was so much more to the war now, and he was no longer the young, energetic try-hard Captain, campaigning for what he believed in no matter the cost.

Things were complicated.

“Come back to bed?” She asked, brushing her lips against his in a soft kiss.

He melted into her touch, softer than he should have been. She could ask him for anything when he was like this, his vulnerable soul left barren for her. “Shouldn’t we finish up?” He murmured, a half-hearted attempt to retain control over himself that he no longer had.

“We should.” She sighed, shifting so she could straddle him. “But I only get you like this for a little longer. That uniform has to go back on eventually.”

“It’s just a uniform.”

“A uniform that keeps me from you.” She kissed his neck as her hands slid under his shirt. Every word fell from her lips like a quiet admission she wasn’t sure she could say, or mean. Not without wrecking everything between them.

“We’ll blow it all to hell. Just need a little more time...”

“I need you.” Her whimpers called him home, her deft fingers tracing his abs under his shirt and bringing the forbidden temptation of her skin flush to his. Her lips on his neck and jaw stole his breath, chasing all thoughts from his mind. “Just a little bit. I’m not ready to give you back.”

“You’re coming with me. You don’t have to. You don’t have to give me back.” His voice was breathy, betraying how touch-starved he truly was.

She kissed him to silence the whimper on his lips, tangling around him. “You don’t belong in the Order.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” She tugged him close. “I do, baby.”

Something changed in his eyes as the words left her lips, his vulnerability swallowed in something darker, clamouring for control. He gripped her hair, tilting her head back and kissing down her neck, rough and forceful. He needed it the way he needed air in his lungs. The wall he erected around his delicate heart shattered in her presence, and he couldn’t afford it. Not now.

He carried her up the stairs, distracting her with kisses and tearing through the thin clothing on her body. There was nothing gentle about it. Gentle sex gave her the space to break down his walls. Gripping her thighs, he flipped her over and pinned her down, lips at her ears.

“I need you loud for me, honey.” He growled, pulling her hips up into his lap and spreading her pulsing center open to make space for him.

“Poe!” She cried out, forgetting what they were for a moment. All that mattered were his callous-rough hands on her skin and the musk of his breath on her neck. He slid in all the way, not needing to get her ready for him, fucking her in the brutal but sweet way that made the room spin.

He lost himself in her moans, the way she thrashed in his arms as she neared the edge. He almost couldn’t hear her pleas for a break over the sound of her begging for more.

“That’s a good girl.” He murmured, too soft for what they were now, his praise painting her lips.

“Your... your good girl.” she gasped, “I’m yours.”

*

Red fell back into his arms in the bed, still giggling from the accidental tickles. Twisting so she could see his face, she relaxed, bitting her bottom lip. “Civilian life looks good on you.”

"Y'think so?" He gazed down at her. "This is the first time I've given it a try."

“Lucky me.” She grinned, wrapping her arms around him.

"I think I'd wanna be somewhere warmer. Salient has too much winter." He pulled the blankets up over them both before letting her curl up in his arms.

“Ever been to the old capital?” She hummed, drawing on his chest.

"I haven't been to any of them.” And he wouldn’t have the chance to visit one of them now that the Order had destroyed Hosnian.

“Chandrila is like a never ending summer. If this war leaves it untouched, maybe we can go after it all. Just us.”

"You don't wanna be seen with me." The thought of it was so absurd he snorted. He’d been in enough of the propaganda the Order put out that there would never be peace for him.

“No one has to see us. We can take a boat out to the islands and go swimming and fuck and lay out in the sun.”

She could see it. The warm Chandrilan sun on his tan skin, lighting his eyes. His curls in between her fingers and his lips between her legs. Them, laid out in the open, a far cry from the corners they’d been hiding in for three years.

Poe couldn’t help but indulge her. "We wouldn't even need to bring clothes."

“I think clothes on you should be illegal.” She giggled, scooting over onto his chest and straddling his hips.

"Yeah? I don't think that's part of Pryde's plan. You're welcome to talk to him about it when we transfer, though."

“When I’m done with him, it’ll be his first priority.” She grinned mischievously.

He couldn’t help but melt at how sweet she was. “He would be scared of you, if he saw who you really are."

Her smile softened as she eased down into his arms. She knew he meant it as a compliment, but she couldn’t help but worry. Why she gave a shit what he thought of her, she didn’t know. If it was going to wreck the mission, it would have by now. “Do I scare you?” She asked, her gaze as intense as the pounding of her heart in her chest.

"Yeah," he said softly. "But that's a good thing, right? You're supposed to keep your informants in line?"

“Are you still an informant? I thought we were friends.”

“We are. But you’re here to take down the Order. Same as me.” He poked her forehead. “Agent.” He poked himself in the chest. “Informant.”

She copied him, jabbing him in the chest. “Poe, Red. And right now, we’re just two very hot people in bed together. Naked. Enjoying life.”

“It’d be kinda sexy to call you Agent in bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

She laughed, shaking her head. “Anything as long as you don’t call me ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She punched his shoulder lightly. “Poe!”

“Why don’t you like that one? Bad boyfriend?”

“It makes me feel like my mom.” She made a face like she was grossed out by the thought, warm love for her mother radiating through it.

“Gotcha.” He kissed her lightly. “Your whole ‘young and innocent and beautiful’ look doesn’t exactly give off mom-vibes.”

She pouted. “I think I’d make a beautiful mom.”

He smoothed the wrinkle in her brow with his thumb. “You would. Of course you would. I just meant that you wouldn’t attract clients with Mommy kinks.”

She scrunched her nose. “Not mommy kinks. Breeding kinks though. I don’t mind those.”

He was quiet as he thought about it. “I don’t know if that’s my style. It seems pretty... close. Intimate.” He coughed, like that could make him feel less exposed. “I’m never gonna settle down with anyone so I don’t think I’d be able to handle taunting myself with that, y’know?”

She held his face, bringing herself as close as she could to him. “I’m not either. So maybe we can with each other. Right at the end. That’d be one hell of a way to go out.”

This was her job. Her role, for the Resistance. She had to make him comfortable and keep loyal and Poe understood that. But he had no reason to betray her. There was no risk in buying in. In letting her do what she had to. “It would be.”

The bed was more enticing than the rest of the house — or the rest of the universe — as far as they were concerned. A droid rolled in about an hour later, bringing foods that neither of them would see again once they left their little sliver of civilian life.

He drank caf, with milk in it if that was an option. He liked his eggs cooked through and spice with his dinner. Everything was appetizing to him as long as it wasn’t slimy. The more they rolled around and talked and fucked and snacked, the more human he seemed to her. The war was worlds away, set in another time and another life where her and her Admiral were just simple people living simple lives.

He knew what she was doing. The questions she asked and information she gathered, just set her up to move around him as seamlessly as the air he breathed. When they got where they were going.

If.

Her laughter made him dream of quiet afternoons just like this, with a beautiful girl in his bed. Endless summers in her eyes. With her, he almost didn’t need the Chandrila sun.

“How often do you make it out here?” She asked casually, eating a piece of fruit while sprawled out on his bed, her eyes on his bare ass.

“Not often. Less since my promotion. It’s pretty nice though, hey?” He noticed her gaze and tossed a clean sock at her.

“Great view. I could stay here forever.” She grinned, spinning her finger in the air at himself. “Nope. Turn back around.”

Poe twirled around, showing off like he had a part time job at a strip club. He moved from the hips, putting on a show until he caught her eyes.

It was too vulnerable. All of it.

He pulled a face, sticking his ass out and wiggling his hips.

She tossed the sock, hitting him in the ass. “You’re lucky you’re hot.” She giggled, reaching out for him. “Come back to bed. I won’t get to lay around and fuck you all the time when we get back to your ship.”

“It’s not mine. I’m only an Admiral.” He crawled up the bed to her, slotting himself between her thighs. “But I’ll take advantage of this while I have it.” He gripped her hair in his fist, tilting her head back to expose her throat. His gaze trailed down her as he murmured, “So pretty...”

She growled, flipping him over and devouring him. There was something in the way he held her, kissed her, that told her she could ask anything of him and he would. For her, or the resistance, she didn’t care. As long as he was on the right side of the war.

His words echoed back in her head like a problem she had to solve. The ship wasn’t his.

She could fix that.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme Lines from "AHS: Coven" Episode 12: "Go To Hell"

Your highest honor comes at the greatest price.

Death is not uncommon. And danger inescapable.

I don't even need to read your mind to know what you're doing.

Poor, sweet, dumb, paranoid girl.

The awful truth is I am tired.

I want to know what happened.

She's probably off in some unholy nether realm.

He's a deity. Show some respect.

Respect is something that is definitely lacking around here.

You will show me respect!

You look like shit.

I can't believe you did that to yourself.

Whoa! That was cool!

I did transmutation.

I didn't even have to think about it. It just happened.

Our powers always spike in times of crisis. This is one of those times.

You into girls now?

What are you afraid I might see?

Nothing stays a secret for very long in this house

It will come to light whether you want it to or not.

I don't have any secrets.

I'm the queen-- I will rise again!

My people gonna come for you. Rip you apart.

Give me the box of chicken. Today, please.

I'm going on break, okay?

This was the worst time of your life. Waiting on people who treated you like the piece of trash you thought you were. No power. No respect. And no future that you could see.

Your hell's on Earth.

Don't make me put you in the fryer.

Everybody got to pay in the end.

Wait! I'm not done with you!

Unless you want to stay here forever, you better hurry and get back.

Time moves differently in here.

I'm talking to you, bitch!

You made it back. I'm impressed.

Now that I've proven my power, you're gonna give me some answers.

You remember how you told me you were gonna cut me up in little pieces and plant me all over the place? I thought that was a honey of an idea.

There's got to be a way to kill her.

More marshmallows.

Well, she's not gonna be doing anything while she's chopped into 50 pieces and those pieces are scattered all over the city.

You are one crafty witch.

When do we get to see the attic torture chamber?

These wild tales of barbarity you've heard are nothing more than lies invented by her many enemies.

What a total rip-off.

How did you find me?

A dog returns to its vomit.

I see you finally got that makeover.

I'm here to set the record straight.

She even looks like a monster.

Many times while there were extravagant parties going on just below, the sounds of music and revelry drowning out the cries of torment.

You don't believe it?

It beggars all belief.

The information you've been feeding these people? It's inaccurate.

I want my money back.

Do not touch the display items!

You will never be able to pay for your crimes.

It's your only chance for redemption.

Agree to be publicly humiliated-- all is forgiven.

All anybody has to do nowadays is shed some tears, say some words

It's called repentance.

Oh, repentance my ass.

You think a man jack among them was well and truly sorry? Not a one. Sorry they got caught is all.

Y'all nothing but a pack of sniveling hypocrites, as far as I can see.

I won't profess to be sorry, 'cause I'm not.

I was getting to you before. I know it.

You made me weep.

I wept for the state of this world.

A world of lies. A world that makes promise it cannot keep.

I don't want to die.

I want my portrait hung just there.

What are you doing back there?

Do you need a break?

I probably have two weeks left on Earth.

Maybe we could be kind to one another for a change, huh?

Did you really think self-mutilation would restore your power?

You cannot lose your power. You never will. It's inside of you.

As much as I'd like to, I cannot take credit for that. It's all you.

You're saying good-bye?

A man shouldn't be disturbed when he's playing with his instrument.

You don't have your mother's features.

Oh, you know who I am?

We spent quite an evening together.

She can't love anyone but herself.

I saw everything. Everything.

Unzip me.

Whatever fantasy you have about who she is and what you are to her, it's all bullshit.

She used you. All she does is use people.

I don't suspect you have a passport ready.

You feel that? That empty heartbroken feeling?

When the rest of the world sees a wall, we see a window.

Is she alive?

She's not breathing.

That's deadly nightshade you're about to ingest through your nostrils. I wouldn't sniff around unless you're looking for a bout of delirium.

Where is everybody?

Who would have been cruel enough to commit such an atrocity?

I heard people die after three days without water.

Please tell me this is a hallucination driven by my bouquet of Atropa belladonna.

You were supposed to spend your days in romantic splendor with your true love.

You're just like Halston when he sold his brand to J.C. Penney. You've forsaken your destiny.

You bit it off.

Hey, you're in my spot!

I want to sleep!

We're leaving.

You, don't talk to me!

Is that why you came back, because you can't handle him?

You bitch.

You thought I was some dumb swamp rat you could leave behind to die?

Stop these vulgar fisticuffs at once.

It's beneath us.

I don't want to waste my magic on you.

You hit like a girl!

This is awesome!

You! You must pay for what you've done!

Wow, did you walk into the wrong house.

Who the hell is this guy?

I thought you banished his soul to the appropriate nether realms?

I'll kill all of you!

Is that blood?

How could you do this to me?

I don't remember the last time I was here when there wasn't music playing.

You pack your wader boots?

I don't like catfish. I loathe all bottom-feeders.

She's pretty, but she doesn't have your cheekbones.

I imagine she wanted me to do her dirty work for her.

We had a deal. It wasn't on paper, it wasn't stamped by a notary, but we had a deal!

You have been the most delightful distraction. A life preserver. But I'm gonna be on dry land soon.

Can't you at least pretend? Just, just humor me for a while?

I guess I loved you.

Although I really don't know anything about love, if I'm gonna be honest. But you were the sweetest of lovers. The best I've ever had. And I'll miss that.

Let go of me!

I know you love me!

Christ, I was sick!

I just needed to feel something.

I made you die those little deaths for the first time in your sorry life. I made you sing when you had no tunes left in you.

What you're doing is a crime against humanity.

Well, I've never been one for love, true or otherwise.

Does anyone feel any different?

Where's the body?

Somebody's got to kill this creep.

Is that really necessary?

I'll kill him.

We really don't need a man to protect us.

I know I mistreated you in the past but there's no greater pain than being this close and not, not being able to reach you. And to comfort you.

Oh, I'm consumed with regret.

Why are they doing this to us?

Please, I'm so thirsty.

Please have mercy.

Are you hungry, too?

I'll slice off one of your mama's fingers and feed it to you!

Yes, I have sinned.

I gave no quarter.

Have mercy on my soul!

I don't want to do this!

You will do as you are tasked.

Who is this man?

What is this place?

You have been granted your sweet release from the world of the mortal.

Welcome to hell.

I can't die!

We have a contract!

No one gets away with sin.

Everybody suffers.

[themattress]

OUAT AND ME: SEASON 3

Story - Season 3 was the first season to (intentionally) divide itself between two story arcs, with the first half being the Neverland Saga and the second half being the Wicked Saga. While the Neverland Saga focused on the journey of the show's main characters through Neverland as they conquer their own inner demons in order to save Henry from the clutches of Peter Pan, the Wicked Saga focused on a new Dark Curse being cast on Storybrooke and the main characters' fight against Zelena, the Wicked Witch of the West, who is working toward a secret objective that will allow her to exact revenge on Regina, the Evil Queen.

The Neverland Saga, in the present day sequences, is the best the show has been since the Enchanted Forest quest early into Season 2. In its best moments, it's even on par with the Dark Curse Saga of Season 1. Seeing all of the characters work together toward a shared goal after all the clashing agendas from the previous season is so refreshing and exactly what the show needed, and everyone undergoes some kind of character development and gets their moment to shine. Greg and Tamara are killed off within the first few minutes of the premiere episode after finding out that "the Home Office" was the Lost Boys all along, and Peter Pan is quite possibly the greatest Big Bad in the show's entire run, and certainly among its most popular for just how wonderfully menacing, manipulative and despicable he is.

Unfortunately, I can't extend the same praise to its flashback sequences. The ones that involve Rumpelstiltskin and Hook in the 4th, 5th and 8th episodes are great and connect to the current narrative, but I take issue with all of the others in some way, big or small. The flashbacks in the 2nd, 9th and 10th episodes have fuck-all to do with what's currently happening in Neverland, and while the ones in the 3rd and 6th episodes do, there are too many issues in them to consider them good. For the 2nd, 6th and 10th, the problem is that the show is starting to contrive new "Snow White and friends vs. the Evil Queen" stories where they don't belong and aren't needed, and it especially has a negative impact on the Evil Queen since this is the point where she shifted from slightly campy to overtly campy, her menace quota reduced to virtually nil. For the 3rd, giving Regina and Tinker Bell a past connection is fine and works for the story, but the way they do it is stupid and with dire consequences later down the line, plus the show doesn't get much into her connections with actual Peter Pan characters like Hook, Wendy, and, well, Peter Pan. And as for the 9th, I actually have quite a lot to say on that so I'll save it for when I'm discussing Episode Quality.

My thoughts on the Wicked Saga have not changed all these years later: it's a textbook example of They Wasted A Perfectly Good Plot. With the set-up it starts with: a new Dark Curse, a new Big Bad, and new dynamics between many of the characters, they had the chance to take the show in a bold new direction following the ending of the Neverland Saga wrapping up the plot that's been going on since "Pilot". But instead, Adam and Eddy fall back into their bad Season 2 habits, and the result is that the show settles into this kind of bland status quo that it won't ever be able to shake off. The arc isn't actually a bad one, as it's solidly structured just like the Dark Curse and Neverland Sagas and there's a lot of great moments and developments made. It just falls short of the greatness that it could have had.  

Characters - Everyone's more likable now! At least until they aren't.

* Emma takes center stage in the Neverland Saga. After finally learning to believe based solely on faith instead of always waiting for evidence to do so, she takes charge as the leader of the group affectionally dubbed "the Nevengers" by fans. In learning how to be a leader, she is able to learn more about herself and become an even more confident and decisive hero. Tragically, her character arc isn't fully resolved before it gets cut off by the events of the midseason finale, leaving her in a state of anxiety and uncertainty in the Wicked Saga before finally making her way back to the resolution of her character arc in the season finale. And on paper, this sounds fine, but in execution Emma's character through the majority of the Wicked Saga is a one-note bore who mainly exists to prop up the development of other characters. She isn't as sidelined as badly as she was in the latter half of Season 2, but still not ideally handled, especially when much of the story arc is specifically building toward only her being able to defeat Zelena only for Regina to do it instead. However, the resolution her character receives in the finale is handled exceptionally well, so I guess it all balances out in the end.

* Snow is actually back on top form in the Neverland Saga and it's wonderful to see, but it doesn't last into the Wicked Saga where she's back to the insipid, Regina-coddling weakling that Season 2 turned her into, whose biggest contribution to the plot is simply having a baby. Charming is a lot more interesting, as in the Neverland Saga we get to see his David Nolan weaknesses return but this time as a result of his Charming strengths, which is a fascinating dynamic to see at work and leads to some great interactions between him and Hook, a relationship that got started in Season 2 and will only continue to grow (and occasionally regress) as the show continues. And in the Wicked Saga, he has an entire episode dedicated to his feelings of failure as a father and how he fears that he might fail his second child too.

* Henry....still sucks, damn it! For a story arc with the mission statement of Save Henry, the Neverland Saga makes it difficult to care about saving him when he's portrayed as so stupid and gullible and easily led by his captor, Peter Pan, to the point where he literally sacrifices his heart (the Heart of the Truest Believer) to him against the pleas of his father and mothers. And while he has the potential to become more interesting in the Wicked Saga due to having lost his memories, the show totally ruins it by giving him his memories back by the end, because Heaven forbid that Regina pay a lasting consequence for her decades of villainy.

* Oh, and speaking of Regina, like Snow she's also really good in the Neverland Saga only for the Wicked Saga to ruin her again. In the Neverland Saga, she establishes herself as the Token Evil Teammate of the Nevengers, who knows she's a sociopathic villain and owns it as she utilizes her skill set for the greater good. Her line after ripping out a Lost Boy's heart at Emma's behest sums up why she works so well in this arc: "She didn't. I did. That's what I'm here for. One happy family." This should have been Regina's seasonal character arc and her status within the show going forward: a part of the family who may be evil and grouchy and not get along with everyone and even antagonize other members of the family, but who can still be counted on when push comes to shove and whom the other members of the family stand on equal grounds with and can push back against. It's the ideal recipe for a slow-burn redemption where by the end of the show she's truly become a semi-decent person. Just the act of destroying and fully reversing the Dark Curse in the midseason finale alone, at the cost of Henry losing all his memories of her while she gives him and Emma good memories of having always been together was a powerful start to such a redemption. It was all right there.

But of course, Adam and Eddy could never let their precious Regina go so long without having all of the things both she and they believe she is entitled to. So in the present-day story of the Wicked Saga (she's still fairly decent in the flashbacks), Regina gets a handsome soulmate in Robin Hood, and validation over her more powerful half-sister, and engagement in family dinners, and reconciliation with Snow without her expressing any remorse or apology toward her (Snow puts the blame on herself instead - "I was such a brat!"), and Henry with all of his memories back, and to out of nowhere and without her heart in her body become a powerful practitioner of light magic to the point where she's basically the Savior now! Yes, she seems to lose Robin at the end when Maid Marian is brought back, but that just ends up making her victim complex and blame deflection even stronger ("You're just like your mother!" she says to Emma, "Never thinking about consequences!" Because how dare she bring back one of Regina's past victims and allow her to be reunited with her family!)

In short, the Wicked Saga put a sudden fast-forward on Regina's redemption, giving her all sorts of goodies that would make sense as individual karmic rewards on a slow-burn redemption but make no sense when they happen in quick succession. And then at the end, they took one of those things away just to make her seem like more of a martyr, something they've been doing ever since the end of "Queen of Hearts" back in Season 2 and at this point I was sick of it. Little did I know it was about to be taken to a whole new level...

* Rumple wasn't bad in the Neverland Saga, per se, in fact he's amazing in the last four episodes. But early in, he backtracks on the goodwill he built up in the Season 2 finale by arrogantly abandoning the rest of the Nevengers to go rescue Henry all by himself, and all this accomplishes is getting him lost in the jungle, crying over old childhood dolls, being plagued by a hallucination of Belle, taunted by Peter Pan, and having an underwhelming reunion with the son he thought had died only to quickly come to blows with said son as he begins showing signs of temptation from his selfish self-preservation instincts at the expense of Henry's well-being once again. It just gets tiring after a while and you're glad when Regina verbally bitch-slaps him back into some semblance of his old self, which leads to the aforementioned amazing moments where he reconciles with the other Nevengers, confronts his father, and ultimately masterminds the heroes’ action plan in the midseason finale which culminates in his final redemption as he sacrifices his life to take down Pan once and for all.

But therein lies the problem: Rumple's entire series-long character arc just came to its natural conclusion. He chose love over power and courage over fear, standing up to the father who ruined his whole psyche and giving his life for his loved ones. However, since it's the middle of the season and Robert Carlyle is still contracted for more, they had to resurrect him. This decision cheapening his sacrifice is bad enough, but the writers also have no real idea what to do with him for the rest of the arc other than act crazy in a cage and then serve as Zelena's meat-slave, which is even less fun to watch than him moping around in the jungle was! While him deceiving Belle and killing Zelena at the end promises better things for him in the future, it's still a slog to have to sit through what preceded it, and you never quite shake off the feeling that the show might have been better off if it only had the balls to leave him dead.

* Hook was already one of the best additions to the cast in Season 2, but Season 3 is where he truly shines. He is in his element in the Neverland Saga, bonding with Emma and Charming while he rediscovers the more heroic and honorable side of himself. The insight into his past especially helps with this, as we better understand where he came from and how he got to where he was when we first met him. And in the Wicked Saga, he is the impetus behind Emma regaining her memories and returning to Storybrooke to be the Savior once more, as we learn that he had attempted to return to his old pirate ways back in the Enchanted Forest but ultimately couldn't do it, as his experiences with Emma and his love for her had changed him for the better. And so when he learned her family was in trouble and needed her help, he sacrificed the Jolly Roger and his pirate captain status in order to get back to her. After learning this on top of all the time they spend together, particularly in that very season finale, Emma finally lets down her walls and enters a romantic relationship with him...and I can't blame her in the slightest, because out of all her love interests, it's clear that she and Hook have the most in common and have the best chemistry. It’s True Love.

* This also might just be the best season for Belle as a character. Her focus episode in the middle of the Neverland Saga is actually about her and her desire to be a hero and contribute to the cause rather than just about her romance with Rumple, and she gets to be a badass who saves the day and makes a great new friend in Ariel. She's also good in the Wicked Saga, where she bonds with Neal, takes Hook and Regina to task for their past misdeeds against her until they apologize and make it up to her, and continues to be a valuable asset as the town librarian and scholar. Pity we can't feel happy for her on her wedding day, though, as even in his goddamn proposal to her Rumple manages to be the worst lover ever.

* Neal is promoted to a regular character this season, which naturally means he's its designated screwed-over regular who won't make it to the next season! It's a shame since despite how miscast Michael Raymond-James continues to be, Neal is better written in this season than he was in the previous one. Through both the Neverland and Wicked Sagas, he shows a passionate desire to be a better father to Henry than Rumple was to him, to not repeat the same mistakes that Rumple made. And so when he is separated from Emma and Henry, he becomes obsessed with getting back to them no matter what the cost, veering dangerously into Rumple territory as he starts dabbling in dark magic. But when the ritual to resurrect his father so that he can find a way back to Earth costs him his life, he ends up accepting his fate rather than cling to life like a coward and risk becoming just like Rumple. While I don't particularly miss him nor do I find his heroic death enough to warrant Snow and Charming naming their new son after him, I'm glad in the end he was able to break the cycle.

* Peter Pan, as I said before, is a top contender for the show's greatest Big Bad. Much of it has to do with Robbie Kay, who absolutely nails the cocky and charismatic yet malicious and frightening qualities that you expect to see from an evil version of Peter Pan. He is so utterly, thoroughly, skin-crawlingly evil that you are invested in the heroes' quest less out of concern for Henry and more because you want to see this demon child be defeated. And of course, there's his backstory and true identity - he's actually Malcolm, Rumple's father, who cruelly abandoned him in order to bond with the Eldritch Abomination personifying Neverland's dark side and obtain eternal youth. But eternal youth doesn't mean eternal life, and Pan will die unless he obtains the Heart of the Truest Believer belonging to his great-grandson, Henry.

While this backstory is divisive among fans, I'm in the camp that loves it. Not only does it add a greater layer of depth to Rumple and his story and make Pan both more pitiful and more reprehensible, but OUAT is at its best when it uses fairy tales to explore real issues, and this is a quite literal exploration of "Peter Pan Syndrome", where adult men selfishly remain in arrested development even when they become fathers. It also really boosts Pan's Ultimate Villain cred, as none of what transpired in the show would have happened if he hadn't abandoned his son and scarred him for life. He is Patient Zero for all the characters' suffering.

* Zelena, the Wicked Witch of the West, naturally feels like a step down when compared to Peter Pan, but this isn't for a lack of effort on the part of the actress, as Rebecca Mader is delightful as she chews the scenery in a blaze of bug-eyed, bared-teeth, shrieking, cackling, psychotic glory. The issues with Zelena are in the writing. First off, making her Regina's half-sister is questionable given that we just had a villain with a secret familial connection with one of our mainstay baddies, which was following from an evil woman with a familial connection to Regina specifically! And them being sisters doesn't have much bearing on the conflict beyond explaining why the Wicked Witch has green skin (it magically turned green out of jealousy for Regina), and she only has green skin in the flashbacks anyway. It also doesn't track with how they first present Zelena in her backstory: she's a girl who wants love and a place to belong, but the moment she discovers she has a sister in another realm her reaction isn't to seek her out and bond with her but "why does she have all of that power and privilege, I oughta have all of that, it's not faaaaaaaaair!" She also lusts after Rumple who, having previously insisted that no-one could ever love him, casually admits that "he has that effect on women" and stops training Zelena because he accepts as fact that she loves him more than anything else and so she can't cast the Dark Curse for him. It makes no sense.

On top of that, her big secret plan ends up being anticlimactic - she wants to create a time travel spell so that she can go back in time and make herself the one who casts the Dark Curse for Rumple - and she is defeated ridiculously easy by Regina's out-of-her-ass light magic powers and then unceremoniously shivved by Rumple in her jail cell. All while Adam and Eddy drop boulder-sized hints that she isn't really dead and we haven't seen the last of her. Then why "kill her" to begin with? Why not just keep her imprisoned? Like I said, Zelena is a good idea for a character and with a great actress, but the writing really let her down.

* Beyond the usual side characters around Storybrooke who are fine as usual, we get several new ones that all make an impact. There's Felix, Pan's creepy and fanatical right-hand boy; Tinker Bell the cynical exiled fairy turned reluctant ally of the Nevengers; the adult versions of John and Michael Darling who run the anti-magic group Greg and Tamara belonged to on Pan's behest since he's holding Wendy hostage; Liam Jones, the deceased older brother of Killian Jones; Ariel of The Little Mermaid fame played to adorable perfection by Joanna Garcia-Swisher, Blackbeard the pirate who serves as Hook's arch-rival in their mutual field of interest; and Glinda the Good Witch who protected Oz until Zelena ousted her from power.

And then there are the new ones that make much less of an impact such as a charisma-free Prince Eric; Walsh the Wizard of Oz (and Emma's short-lived boyfriend, and a flying monkey - yes, he's really all three of those); a bland version of Rapunzel; a dumbfounding semi-villainous adaptation of Lumiere the talking candle, and Dorothy Gale who is so devoid of anything special or interesting that she's a slap in the face to her literary and cinematic counterpart. I'm not sure what went wrong with these characters, but it went very wrong.

However, one side character needs to be addressed above all others: Robin Hood. He's back and involved in the present day story, now played by Sean Maguire instead of Tom Ellis, and the revelation via Tinker Bell's pixie dust that he's Regina's "soul mate" is the start of his character being butchered beyond repair. The sad thing is that it could have worked: the argumentative, mutual dislike yet still caring about each other type of relationship they have in the flashbacks was perfect and should have continued, progressing naturally into Belligerent Sexual Tension and finally romance as Regina becomes a better person. Instead, when they lose their memories and meet again in Storybrooke, it's now love at first sight and instant romance, with Robin being disgustingly courteous and compliant toward Regina (claiming she's "bold and audacious, but not evil"). Robin Hood is supposed to stand against corrupt, oppressive tyrants, not fall in love with them, and Regina is nowhere near out of her corrupt, oppressive tyrant mindset yet. But she's Regina, Adam and Eddy's favorite character, and so if Emma's getting a sexy British love interest than so must she, regardless of how it clashes with his code of honor! Ugh, such a waste of a great hero, and of a good actor.

Atmosphere - Remember when I said that Season 2 got dark in the bad way? Well, the Neverland Saga is dark in the good way, where the darkness isn't coming from a constant steam of personal misery, heinous actions, and the heroes failing against the villains, but from things that are suggested and things that lurk in the shadows, from trials the heroes must face in order to come out stronger that come off almost like an intense form of therapy, and from a particularly evil villain who will do anything to get what he wants.  The fight against said villain also restores the tit-for-tat style of combat that Season 1 did so well at, with both the heroes and the villain getting the best of each other on multiple occasions so that it feels like a legitimate struggle rather than a never-ending one-sided blowout like it was with Cora.

Unfortunately, the show also takes this dark atmosphere to way too literal an extreme. The choice to keep Neverland in the present day always at night seems cool early on, but the novelty wears off quickly when you feel like you've been looking at the same backdrop for scenes and even episodes on end. I think allowing some scenes to be at day or afternoon would have done wonders at keeping up a sense of variety - many gifsets online brighten up the pictures and they looks so much better as a result. This was a big wasted opportunity.  

The tone of the Wicked Saga is generally lighter and campier, with the only particularly dark things coming from Rumple and Neal's storylines, and that was definitely the right call since anything heavier after the Neverland Saga would start to feel oppressive. And again, the fight against Zelena is an even-handed one, with both heroes and villain getting to score points.

One of the biggest surprises upon revisiting this season is just how well Storybrooke was handled as a setting. It doesn't show up too often in the Neverland Saga but is well utilized when it is, and in the Wicked Saga we get a lot of new locations like Zelena's farmhouse beyond the woods and explorations of ones that were previously underexplored such as the docks and shipyard area. More importantly, magic shenanigans are kept to a minimum and for the most part there are actually sensible rules applied to them! Pan enacting the Dark Curse, the heroes counteracting him, Zelena's usage of magic, Emma learning to channel her inner magic, the séance to summon Cora's spirit, the time travel spell...they are things that don't just happen, there's stuff that has to be done and established beforehand. 

It's not all done well, of course - we get the worst excuse why no-one can leave the town line yet (flying monkeys will get you if you try!) and Regina's light magic is pulled out of her ass following a breaking of the Dark Curse from her that makes no sense (Henry wasn't under any curse, so a True Love's Kiss on him shouldn't break squat!), but it's a step up from Season 2, enough to fool you into thinking that Adam and Eddy have learned their lesson. 

Episode Quality - There's no bad episode in the Neverland Saga, although there are a few that stand out as weaker than the rest. "Nasty Habits", for instance, is kind of drag whenever Peter Pan isn't onscreen, since the Nevengers are stuck moping around at Baelfire's former tree house while Baelfire himself ("It's NEAL!") continues to be unable to sell the drama between him and his father in the way it deserves to be sold. And "The New Neverland", beyond having an awful title that gives everything away too soon, has a ridiculously fast-paced and repetitive plot in order to set up the midseason finale...a problem that could have been easily rectified had it not also hosted the most pointless flashback in the entire season.

And now I need to talk about the flashback in the episode before that one: "Save Henry", the climax of the Nevengers' time in Neverland. It's about how Regina first adopted Henry, and I actually really like it. It shows how she almost might have reformed after obtaining her new son but then discovered he was the child of the Savior, and unable to choose between him and her power over the cursed town, she copped out by drinking a memory loss potion. Not only is this tragic but it actually explains a lot about why Regina was so unstable and abusive in Season 1, since a flashback in that season had Snow drinking just such a potion to forget Charming and we got to see exactly what it did to her psyche as a result. However...this flashback didn't belong in this particular episode. Sure, Regina's love for Henry was a part of the present day story, but so was Emma's. And Neal's. And Pan's desire to fully assimilate his heart so that he could live forever. I really think that a flashback to Neverland in its prime, shared between Pan, Hook, Baelfire and Tinker Bell, would have been far more appropriate. After all, we hear a lot about those relationships, but I really want to see more of them.

I have few complaints about the present day narratives of "Heart of the Truest Believer", "Lost Girl", "Quite a Common Fairy", "Good Form", "Ariel", "Dark Hollow", "Think Lovely Thoughts" and "Save Henry", though, nor about the flashback of "Nasty Habits" that brilliantly composites Peter Pan with the Pied Piper of Hamelin, luring children away with a pan flute.

And then there's the midseason finale, "Going Home". Holy shit. This is the finale that gives "A Land Without Magic" a run for its money. It's not just the finale to the Neverland Saga, but the finale to the entire story that was begun in "Pilot", with every character making what appears to be their last stand. The stakes and the emotions run very high in this one, peaking with the double punch of Rumple's beautiful sacrifice to save his loved ones from Pan and the scene at the town line where Emma and Henry have to say goodbye to all of their friends and family from Storybrooke, with the town and the characters disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke as Emma and Henry drive across the town line, all their memories of the show's events forgotten but replaced with new memories implanted by Regina, memories of Emma never giving Henry up for adoption and them living happily together for years. It all started when Henry came to Emma's apartment to bring her to Storybrooke, and now it ends with them both leaving Storybrooke and heading toward their happy ending. It's perfect. 

The Wicked Saga had its work cut out for it in topping what came before it, and "New York City Serenade" following up the last minute, literal Sequel Hook of "Going Home" does end up feeling anti-climactic in how quickly Stoybrooke, its residents, and all of Emma's memories are restored (also, Emma's new boyfriend being a flying monkey was so dumb), but it's still a solid and enjoyable enough episode to watch, with its direct follow-up, "Witch Hunt", being even better. "The Tower" has great atmosphere and character development, and while "Quiet Minds" definitely could have been better, it could have been worse too. "The Jolly Roger", meanwhile, is the perfect midpoint episode, mostly a breather and a deeper exploration of Hook's character and how much he's changed in spite of him doing his damndest in the flashback to resist that change, as well as the welcome return of our fave fish-girl, Ariel. 

It's really just the four heavily Zelena-focused episodes "It's Not Easy Being Green", "Bleeding Through", "A Curious Thing" and "Kansas" that I have trouble with; I feel like the writers really dropped the ball on Regina and Zelena's conflict and individual character development in these episodes, which is ironic given that Evil vs. Wicked was the biggest thing promoted about this half-season arc and it ended up being its weakest element. 

The two-part season finale, "Snow Drifts" and "There's No Place Like Home", is both a weird and wacky homage to Back to the Future and a return to the series' magical roots. Emma and Hook's adventure to the time of the "Snow Falls" flashback is so much fun and is the perfect antidote to the last few lousy episodes. It also could have very well made an ideal series finale if five changes had been made to both it and the whole Wicked Saga's story: Neal would have to still be alive (that way we don't get the baby being named after him, which is stupid), Rumple would have to still be dead (so no lying to Belle via wedding proposal and killing Zelena), Zelena would have to still be alive and in jail (totally doable with Rumple not alive), Marian would have to not be included in the plot at all (past or present), and of course the stinger with Elsa showing up would have to be removed. Do that and it's a happy ending. But they didn't do that, so following a quick diversion, I'm stuck having to watch Season 4.

Overall - Just as there is no doubt in my mind that Season 1 is the show’s strongest season, there is no doubt in my mind that Season 3 is the runner-up. This is an all-around solid, largely well-crafted, entertaining season of television, especially the first half of it. During this season, I was proud to call myself a OUAT fan. It’s such a shame that the Wicked Saga didn’t end up innovating more and instead settled the show down into a status quo, because if it hadn’t done that then this season’s template would have been the one to follow for the rest of the show, with truly new and exciting story arcs in each half of a season that shake up the show and its characters for the better rather than always returning them to the same tired status quo that only lessens their appeal every time it happens. Oh, what might have been...