#also includes dark themes such as violence and ptsd

[whatswrongwithblue]

Artowrk by inuhalfdemon

Series Masterlist

Summary:

He took her face between his clawed hands and kissed her, hard and quick.

“So now that I have you back,” as he spoke, his voice crackled and lowered several octaves, and the room darkened as he allowed his power to slip out just enough to make reality around them go fuzzy. “I’m not letting you go.”

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

TW: canon typical violence, language, character behavior. recreational drug use. body image issues. references to self harm. OC has ptsd from sexual trauma and spousal abuse - not from Alastor! cannibalism. gun violence. slow burn. alastor is an ass and alastor is also soft. the smut will eventually include: p&v, fingering, oral - both receiving. biting, scratching, blood play. occasional shadow tentacle and sex toy usage. Anal play. Nun Alastor makes an appearance later on. Breeding kinks - both Alastor and OC deal with breeding cycles. Touch adverse Alastor. Ace-spectrum Alastor.

Also available on AO3 .

Chapter 1 - The Pilot: Alastor returns to Hell. Basically the events of the Pilot, but rewritten with Mina present.

Part 1

Chapter 2 - Reflections. The short story of Mina's life and death.

Chapter 3 - Overture. Events of Episode 1 as well as what happened during the Extermination the day before.

Part 2

Chapter 4 - Terminally Dispelled. Mina arrives in Hell.

Chapter 5 - Radio Killed the Video Star. Events of Episode 2. Alastor is a simping show-off but still not good at processing emotions.

Part 3

Chapter 6 - Little Sunshine. - Mina's POV from the end of last chapter.

Chapter 7 - Ashes in My Wake. - Alastor handle's being smitten really, really badly.

Chapter 8 - Scrambled Eggs. - Alastor finds out someone has hurt his wife.

Part 4

Chapter 9 - Wretched and Joyful. - "First time" smut

Chapter 10 - Masquerade. - Events of Episode 4. Angst ahead!

Chapter 11 - Stitches. - Angst & post-fight make-up smut

Part 5

Chapter 12 - Drunk on Life. - extra fluff & smut

Chapter 13 - Dad Beat Dad. - Events of Episode 5 w/ smut.

Part 6 - Alastor in rut smut but also lots of dark themes. Please mind the tags of these chapters.

Chapter 14 - Welcome to Heaven.

Chapter 15 - Tainted.

Chapter 16 - Possessed.

Chapter 17 - The Prophetess vs. The Nun.

Chapter 18 - Welcome (Back) to Heaven.

Part 7

Chapter 19 - A Fate that Befell Him. - proposal & wedding day

Chapter 20 - The Silence in Between. - honeymoon smut

Chapter 21 - Hello Abaddon. - recruitment for the hotel battle

Chapter 22 - House on Fire - smut rather than dealing with feelings.

Everything below is finished, only unpublished because I need to proof read!

Part 8

Chapter 23 - Don't Take That Sinner From Me. - the day alastor left

Chapter 24 - Just Pretend. - have some more angst. as a treat.

Chapter 25 - A Place to Put Your Pain. - surprise! more smut

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On. - the battle

Bonus Chapters

Chapter 1 - The Library - bonus smut

Chapter 2 - Poppin' Molly - Alastor on drugs, enough said

Chapter 3 - There's Children Screaming in the Streets - my dear friend @safination wrote a Sinner's POV of Chapter 23 and it's amazing!

[nesaluvstherecoms]

𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Y/N, a military prodigy, raised and trained in the Marine Corps, opens her eyes to a new life as a Recombinant. Her purpose is one and one only; being General Frances Ardmore’s right hand in taming the frontier in order to set up humanity’s future home on Pandora, including eliminating resisting natives. There’s only one problem; Y/N’s predecessor has never been on Pandora. Despite this challenge, Y/N seems to face a bigger issue. She’s surrounded by incompetent idiots. The biggest idiot in question seems to be someone among her own ranks. Miles Quaritch. Even with his rank as a Colonel, Quaritch still manages to screw up his biggest mission, ruining Y/N’s and Ardmore’s hard work in the process. With it being her job, Y/N has to find a way to go about this incompetent asshole, including dealing with his unchecked attitude, inability to successfully complete a single mission, impulsive decisions and his absolute lack of professionalism. Miles on the other hand wishes this damn woman would just die. She suddenly appeared one day, charmed Ardmore, got promoted to Major General, and now she thinks she can steal all the authority he had on base, run her rude ass mouth, give him shit about every single mission and boss him around like he’s her personal bitch? Who the fuck does she think she is? They both thought the natives would be their biggest enemies, but with each other among their own ranks, they’re starting to change their minds.

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴀɢꜱ & ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dark themes, warfare, guns, typical military violence, heavy sexual activity (smut), forced neural bond (tsaheylu), identity crisis, death, injuries, PTSD, etc.

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ:

This is an enemies to lovers fic.

Y/N and Miles are both comfortable with engaging in sexual activities with the same gender.

Slow burn.

There are a lot of OCs because I needed more Marines and RDA personnel.

The male Na’vi in this fic have sheath folds because you cannot tell me those fuckers have their cocks out and their crotches are still flatter than my kitchen table.

For chapters with smut, dark themes or heavy triggers I will add warnings.

Recom logo header and dividers are mine, please credit if you use them.

This work is also on AO3, under the username: @nesaluvstherecoms

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐰. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐙𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐄𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐬

✮ ᴜɴɪᴛ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴀᴛᴀ ꜱʜᴇᴇᴛ ✮

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝐒𝐒𝐃𝐃

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓: 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔: 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕: 𝐆𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐀𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖: 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

𝐼𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈…

[threegoldfish]

Pinned.

Indie, 18+, mutuals only, multi-everything, crossover-friendly, OC-friendly, not safe for work AND HEAVILY HEADCANON BASED Marc Spector, Steven Grant and Jake Lockley from Marvel’s Moon Knight (2022). NO COMIC CONNECTIONS, purely MCU based. Written by P., 30+, active within european timezones. 14+ years of RP experience. Askbox open for everyone (dash memes & (HC)-questions and/or general questions aimed at the muses). Replies / reblogs from personal blogs will be ignored. NO MINORS. Mun does NOT have DID, but treats the topic with respect and expects it to be done from others as well. The whole interpretation of this blog (including the characters) is fictional, not meant to be educational or (medically)correct in any way, and the whole topic of DID will also be handled in a fictional way in this fictional world on the blog. Keep that in mind. If uncomfortable with such, please do not follow. Mun also means no disrespect to any existing people and does not intend to cause harm to those diagnosed with DID. • This blog ships (and supports) the Moon Knight system. Possible 'dark' topics handled on this blog: Trauma-mentioning and possible elaboration (including medical, physical, mental, se*ual), mentioning and possible elaboration of other mental disorders (depression, anxiety, PTSD etc), exploration of se*ual themes (including n/s/f/w content), violence (descriptive and non-descriptive) and other dark themes. Do not follow if you feel uncomfortable with such. Despite all this possibly happening on this blog, the mun is actually mostly fond of softer/fluffy topics/themes, and those will be around a lot.

Mains | Affiliates • @amischiefofmuses ♥ • @odditymuse ♥ • @threemoonflowers ♥ • @preemptivejustice ♥

• RULES • ABOUT THE MUSES • VERSES • HEADCANONS • HOW SWITCHING WORKS • JAKE'S CARS • MARC'S SOUNDTRACK • STEVEN'S SOUNDTRACK • JAKE'S SOUNDTRACK • SHIP SOUNDTRACK (MARCSTEVENJAKE) • MEME TAG • PROMO

Credits: Header, Promo, Pinned Images done by [x] Dividers by [x]

[0asterous0]

Welcome <3

Right now you're on my pinned post, which will be my main sorting system on this account! Every Information or AU you will need that already exists on this acc will be here!!

Me and My Tags <3

My name is Aster or Iasoni, I'm 20 and I've been hanging aroung the MCYT community for a while. I'm new to the Tumblr though! I had this acc for a while, but I never knew, and to be honest, still don't know how to use it! I will be struggling in here a lot!

#asterous yaps - The tag where I will be talking about anything and everything! It will be random stuff that comes to mind, MCYT included!

#asterous writes - My little silly headspace where I throw all one-shots and AU ideas/fics! If it's just an idea, feel free to reply asking for the real thing, I might write it! (and you can always send your own requests and ideas in the ask!)

#asterous ask - The place where I will be answering your questions!! (PLEASE VISIT MY ASK)

My MCYT Works <3

Open Horizon [Trafficshipping!]

-- An interactive superhero AU, the first part of the series "The Greater Esempi"; Mumscarian-centric; Rating - Teen and Up, but it might change to Mature depending how dark the series grow;

TW// PTSD, Depression, Blood and violence, Death, Fantasy racism, Delirium and derealization: Unhealty relationships (Platonic) and coping mechanisms.

Love Ranch [Trafficshipping!]

-- A flower ranchers AU, where Jimmy and Tango think that there's a new ranch in town, and they are now in competition for the market, when actually the new "ranch" is therapy, run by Scott and Cleo.

This is based on Double Life, but this is an AU for a reason; a lot of stuff is different, and relationships are different. They still have drama and issues that might reference the actual series, but otherwise, it's just my creation.

I do writing commissions!

Hi! I'm officially opening commissions! :D If you've been around here, you probably are aware that I write for free when I get the ideas in my inbox/ask, but they are mostly around 1k words, so I decided to give it a try and give people a chance to commission me for much bigger stories.

I do:

Ship fics, Platonic fics, Gen fics. Different fandoms (Mainly MCYT, Voltron, Percy Jackson, and many others that I can't remember right now, but you can ask me in the inbox!) Both canon and alternative universe settings. I'm ready to develop the whole worldbuilding if needed. Slightly suggestive themes (everything either joked or implied). Dark themes like murder, torture, suicide, etc.

I don't do:

OC stories. I don't think I will be able to capture your characters well enough, without having enough content. Darker themes like pedophilia, incest, rape, etc. Smut.

The prices!

My regular price stands at 5€ for 2k words! If the commission is multi-chapter, then I'll take 5€ for each chapter! (The words might range from 2k to 5k.)

If your currency is different, we can talk about the prices in DMs while discussing the commission! (I myself came from a country where 5€ is too much for 2k words, so I will understand and try to accommodate!)

My Ko-Fi <3

(I also accept donations, in case you like my writing and you feel generous! I am in a very rough situation right now, which is the reason why I'm opening these commissions, so...)

-----

Additionally, if you require a writer, I CAN take that job, and we can discuss the payment later on. I can and will gladly help with games. Worldbuilding, script writing, I can help.

[jims-strap-on]

ABOUT:

hi i’m ash!! 27, any pronouns, genderqueer/bi/ace. i’ve been rping since 2009, and have been on fbrp since 2012. i decided to try out tumblr again. im married and have four cats.

i’m a multimuse rp account in the our flag means death, acotar, supernatural, good omens, marvel, phantom of the opera, and harry potter fandoms. my main fandoms are OFMD and ACOTAR, and my main muses are Jim, Izzy, Rhysand, Azriel, and Feyre. OC and crossover friendly.

I love writing angst, hurt/comfort, and romance, including (optional) smut. i can do either canon or AU. i especially love themes like enemies to lovers and mafia AUs.

I’m okay with dark themes such as violence, blood/gore, self-harm, drugs and alcohol, etc.

I don’t reply terribly consistently so writing with me requires patience, I work full time and suffer from PTSD/depression and can’t reply while in funks. I will not tolerate my partners nagging me for replies.

i’m not picky about reply length, there is NO need to match mine. sometimes I tend to rant and reply length gets away from me, I don’t expect the same detail in return. however I do prefer para/lit. usually I’ll write a couple of paragraphs.

𝙁𝙀𝙔𝙍𝙀 𝘽𝙄𝙊

𝙍𝙃𝙔𝙎𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘽𝙄𝙊

𝘼𝙕𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙇 𝘽𝙄𝙊

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH:

Muses: Izzy Hands, Jim Jimenez, Edward Teach, Archie, Stede Bonnet

Izzy/Stede

Izzy/Ed

Ed/Stede

Stede/Izzy/Ed

Oluwande/Jim

Jim/Archie

Oluwande/Jim/Archie

A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES:

Muses: Feyre Archeron, Azriel, Nesta Archeron, Rhysand, Eris Vanserra

Feyre/Rhysand

Nesta/Cassian

Azriel/Elain

Azriel/Gwyn

GOOD OMENS:

Muse: Crowley

Crowley/Aziraphale

SUPERNATURAL:

Muses: Sam, Dean

Dean/Castiel

Sam/Ruby

Sam and Dean (NOT shipping NOT as a pairing!! but I love brother interactions!)

HARRY POTTER:

Muses: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger

Draco/Harry

Draco/Hermione

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA/LOVE NEVER DIES:

Muses: Erik, Raoul

Erik/Christine

Erik/Raoul

MARVEL:

Mus𝙚𝙨: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Bucky/Natasha

Bucky/Steve

Bucky/Sam

Bucky/Tony

Bucky/Zemo

Bucky/Clint

Steve/Tony

AU WISHLIST:

enemies to lovers mafia boss AU: our muses are both leaders of rival organized crime rings. they are both alone in the world and have spent their lives looking out for number one, falling into a life of crime desperate for money with no other options left. could take place in the present, or 1940s brooklyn.

sugar baby AU: my muse is a successful, professional business owner searching online for a baby to take care of long term and spoil. the arrangement is strictly platonic and sexual, until feelings start to develop.

sugar baby mafia AU: our muses meet on a sugar baby website. my muse is a crime boss who is interested in your innocent muse as a live in submissive in exchange for a handsome monthly salary. your muse is interested in the world of organized crime, letting my muse show yours the ropes while providing sex as a stress relief. bonus points if your character ends up joining a life of crime and running the crime ring with mine

BDSM club owner AU: my muse is a BDSM club owner who meets your submissive character at the club and frequently run scenes in my character’s private room at the club. it turns out they compliment each other in the bedroom well; your muse is the brat who likes to work for their rewards, while mine is the brat tamer who has all the time in the world. possible kinks include degradation, masochism, knife play, bondage, spanking, ropes/cuffs, cock warming, voyeurism, praise—open to suggestions. i’m also open to a pleasure dom and eager submissive dynamic.

mafia boss/police officer AU: our muses match on bumble, meeting up at a club my muse owns for a first date. your character works as a police detective, not knowing that their date is actually the owner of several clubs which secretly are coverups for sex work and drug dealing. the very same crime ring that your muse is assigned to taking down.

slave auction AU: your muse is sold to mine at a slave auction, only my muse only purchased yours to take them away from this life, gain their trust, and slowly heal them over time. maybe my muse is also just a little lonely and wants companionship. my character keeps yours safe while only ever treating them with gentleness, which your muse is not used to after such a hard life. this could also be sunshine x grumpy, my muse being the brooding grump who has a not-so-secret soft side.

Other plots:

enemies to lovers, our characters hate each other and have frequent hate sex as an unhealthy coping mechanism to serve as a distraction. they are in deep denial about their feelings and keep the arrangement strictly physical, until they can’t any longer.

good omens only: crowley and aziraphale decide they want to explore the human act of intercourse, exploring what each other like in the bedroom as they learn about their boundaries and various kinks, leading to BDSM. they are only friends wishing to indulge in a new human interest they realize they really enjoy, leading to eventual relationship. dom!aziraphale

These are only possible specific plot ideas I enjoy, of course i’m open to anything; as mentioned earlier, my favorites are angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, found family, fwb to relationship… feel free to come to me with ANY of your own ideas! shipping/NSFW is not a necessity, i’m open to a lot!

[a-student-out-of-time]

Teach me your massive writing nerd ways, senpai!! 😫

(For real though, hope you get better soon ^^)

//Thank you ^^

//I'm not really an expert in this department, but here's Sixteen Steps on how I oversee the Fangan writing process:

Decide on your story's theme first and foremost. What's the major conflict? What ideas are being put forward and challenged? How will your Killing Game's story, character and environment reflect these? Are you sticking with the classics (Hope vs. Despair, Truth vs. Lies), something similar but new (Trust vs. Doubt, Growth vs. Stagnation, Redemption vs. Corruption) or are you going with something completely different? All of these can and should play a role on the nature of the Killing Game itself.

When you've decided on what kind of story you want to tell, work on the characters. Your characters shouldn't just be there to die and crack jokes, they should be an active part of the story and their arcs should ideally reflect the conflicts and themes. You also are not bound by the archetypes used in canon and can vary it up however you want.

Character arcs: Have them. Even with characters whose fates are sealed and they aren't going to die, there's no reason not to allow them some degree of growth and change in the time that they do have. Their arcs can even naturally conclude with their deaths in trials or the like, which can vary from them choosing to save someone else to one final act of spite against the rest of the group.

You are not bound by the almighty outline. You're also going to need at least a general idea of where you want your story to go, but it's okay to provide yourself with a degree of flexibility. Who's going to survive? Who isn't? Why? What are the motives? Are they doing anything besides just faffing around waiting for the next murder? Maybe your ideas will change, just make sure you can smoothly integrate those new ideas without upsetting the flow and clues you've established.

Small moments are more important than big ones. Moments of characterization in the plot, like vulnerability, small confrontations, even casually-provided pieces of dialogue can do more for your characters than just having them die horribly/dramatically or them revealing something major in or after the trial. FTEs should be supplemental, not the place you dump all their best/worst character qualities.

Characters should communicate. You shouldn't define characters purely by their relationship to the protagonist or to one other character. See how many dynamics and interactions you can come up with, and how you might be able to include those into the story. Diversifying interactions opens up a lot of potential new dynamics and story opportunities.

It's okay to be a LITTLE self-indulgent. I say this because I got flak for saying writers shouldn't let their self-indulgence overwhelming their fangans. I will clarify that it's okay if you want to include something just because you want to include it, as I have in my own writing, but if you want a murder method/execution/confrontation/what have you in the story, please at least integrate it in a way that makes sense. If you don't, it's going to feel jarring at best and actively harmful and disruptive to the story at worst.

Your setting should feel like a part of the story. The place where your cast is trapped shouldn't feel like a featureless prison with setups for murders, it should have an active role in the situation and clue us into the story. Is it run-down and grungy? Unnaturally clean for an inhabited space? Is it dark? Is it colorful and lively? What's keeping them from leaving? What do they find as they explore?

Avoid stereotypes about mental health. If you're going to use DID, Schizophrenia, Autism, OCD, depression, PTSD, Bipolar Disorder, any personality disorder, etc., PLEASE do your research before you even think about writing a character with any of these. Mental health being equated with violence is grossly exaggerated; people with these conditions are more likely to be victims of violence, not the perpetrators. Please don't make a character built out of negative stereotypes just for the sake of drama or making the story "interesting." A good character is vastly more interesting than another Genocider Syo knockoff.

Idiot Plots are Unacceptable. There's a fine line between a character making a bad decision because of pride, fear, miscalculation, or any sort of understandable flaw, and them making one because the story needs them to in order for a murder to happen. Your characters can make all the right decisions that they reasonably could, and still ultimately fail. That often makes the antagonists seem much smarter and more threatening.

Do not overly focus on the rival. If you've ever heard someone say that villains are more interesting than heroes, that person is probably just bad at writing heroes. Your protagonist does not have to be boring and your rival doesn't have to, and preferably shouldn't, be the most important and well-written character in the story. A good rival challenges the protagonist and serves as their foil in some way, but that also means the protagonist can challenge them in other ways; e.g. Byakuya has no chance of solving Trial 4 because he couldn't even conceive of a situation where someone would sacrifice themselves for another.

Suffering does not equate to sympathy. Yes, a killing game would be a miserable experience, but just making the characters miserable and putting them through the wringer constantly, with no chance for them to breathe or get any kind of victory often feels more exhausting than sympathetic or interesting. This extends beyond fangans and into writing in general; if you've established that a character is never going to succeed at anything they do, people are going to emotionally check out of the story because there's no reason to get invested that something might go wrong.

The mastermind should reflect one side of the conflict. For the driving theme, whichever side the protagonist is on, the mastermind should represent the opposite. For extra thematic flair, maybe have their backgrounds parallel each other in some manner and see how their lives too very different paths as a result. If they don't, they're going to feel very disconnected from the story and like they had no reason to do this at all.

Ask yourself what kind of mastermind works best for your story. Do you want someone loud and bombastic? Quiet and scheming? Angry and bitter? A deluded paragon who thinks they're doing good with their killing game? Someone not even human? When you have it in mind, work backwards and ask how this person would then decide to become the mastermind of this killing game in the first place.

If you're stuck, try reverse-engineering. A lot of us have the outcome of a story in mind first but aren't sure how we get there, especially with murders in these games. I find the best way is to work backwards, starting with the outcome (basically the Closing Argument) and scattering all the pieces of the murder scene around to where it becomes a mystery. Motivations, of course, should be the first thing on your mind and why they targeted a particular character.

EXECUTIONS ARE NOT A STORY. This is probably the biggest hurtle I see with a lot of aspiring fangan writers, where they focus very much on the deaths and executions over everything else. Your fangan can't just be a paper-thin plot designed to get us from one execution to the other, it needs an actual story and characters to keep us engaged. Furthermore, your executions shouldn't just be spectacle, they should have a purpose in the narrative and provide character insights in and of themselves, whether it's ironic punishments or some final revelation about the character.

//And there you go, some tips for writing a fangan. Hope these help! ^^

[hauntedpenguinobservation]

Carpe Noctem - Intro Post

DEMO - tba

You are a nobody. A supposedly ordinary human in a world full of powerful beings. Your life is all in all pretty average if not bordering on mind-numbing, like watching paint dry... That is until you were kidnapped and tossed into one especially small carriage to be delivered somewhere only the ancients knew of.

From now on nothing will ever be the same and you need to adapt to the ever-changing outside world as fast as possible. All the while trying to decipher your past and with that your part in an every-growing political conflict that borders to develop into an all out war the world has yet to see.

General content warnings: Bigotry & prejudice, horror elements, interspecies awkwardness, explicit language, depictions of violence, injuries, blood and death, explicit sexual content (if selected), flashbacks of a dark past to unveil, sprinkled with some homophobia here and there & general an unfair treatment of people with disabilities.

FEATURES

-> customizable MC (name, pronouns, appearance, identity)

-> semi-set personality due to evolve (MCs reclusive upbringing)

-> 5 characters to romance (3 in book 1, not sure if the other two will follow, they'll probably be fully romanceable in book 2)

-> POVs of the ROs included

-> an open-minded author that is inclined to change NPCs to fully fledged ROs depending on the general opinion/wishes of readers

-> an emotional roller coaster, all in all nothing for ppl that want a light-hearted theme

-> later on you'll be able to choose part of your race (vampires, merpeople, demons, shapeshifters, phoenixes -and many more) & with that you can determine and further develop your special skillset.

romanceable characters:

the master [Alois|Alice|Alix] (m|f|n) 24 winters

Aloof, cold eyes and reclusive as fuck. And your esteemed master -as if any of you actually want this dynamic... A hates you and your position, especially the hidden context it supplies to everyone they meet...

A has silver eyes that always seem distant, defined cheek bones with mostly soft facial features and long, silver hair. A wears fine dark clothing without other prominent features to despict their wealth.

Content warnings for A's route: denial of feelings aka one of the slowest burns imaginable, domestic violence, implied/referenced rape/non-con, anxiety attacks, self-harm, angst & hurt/comfort

the protector [Leto] (m|f|n) too many to count

Leto is a raven-like creature most would describe as monstrous-looking. They are rarely seen and the few moments they are, death is certain. For many commoners it's enough to see one of Leto's black feathers to warrant a swift escape.

Their past eludes them and you have to wonder - why does some antics of them seem kinda...familiar?

Content warnings for Leto's route: survivor-guilt, body dysphoria, touch-starved, angst, hurt/comfort, captivity & enslavement, torture, ptsd

the assassin [Zane|Zoey] (m|f) 28 winters

Z is everything their mother wanted them to be. Her own personal weapon. One she is now inclined to use for her vendetta against you.

They have dark brown hair with intelligent hazel eyes that seem to observe their surroundings constantly. They were raised with stories about you, stories you know nothing about. How can it be that Z seems to know more of you and your family than you yourself?

Should it worry you that they sound extremely resolute in stating their sole purpose is to rid the world of your existance?

Content warnings for Z's route: enemies to frenemies to lovers, eating disorder, alcohol-addiction, a tendency of morbid jealousy, past emotional abuse & manipulation

??? [redacted]

??? [also redacted]

more info tba

Small note of the author:

Everything is slow burn in this - even the character customization, cause I want to add those moments seamlessly into the story.

I tend to take my time. You can expect me to heavily focus on the characters and their feelings, with a slight disregard to describing the environment and such. I work with minimalistic efforts to still give a sense of what I imagine everything to be but with the intention to leave fine details to the reader's own imagination.

I'll try to be considerate of everyone's preferences, especially in the more kinky parts of the story. There'll be versions for more assertive characters as well as more passive one's. Though I should add that the ROs all have their own set of bias that they prefer. However there will be growth throughout the story, including that.

The gravity of your choices will intensify throughout book 1, especially as you get to know the Circle and the Court and every other political hive of intrigue.

And yes. You can die. The ROs can die. Almost everyone will be able to at some point, I guess. Though I don't like the idea of writing a total distopia, don't expect me to change my mind regarding that one that easily.

More infos will be added over time. I'll post lore snippets of my sketchbook soon, like the worldmap, the general outlines of the Circle & the Court, the different races and such.

Asks are welcomed.

[fallen-in-dreams]

CHAPTER NINE on AO3.

Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.

Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.

Rated: Mature.

Chapter word count: 9,004.

Status: Ongoing.

Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.

Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.

Enjoy. ^_^

Tumblr version:

… Chapter Nine: Little Bits and Pieces of Lies. ...

.:.

When I heard that sound When the walls came down I was thinking about you About you

-- Skin, by Rag’n’Bone Man

.:.

The shift change was a few minutes late.

The guard sighed into the paper wrapping in his mouth, puffing out a few smoke clouds, trying and failing to form it into something recognisable. Last week, Yaeko had tried to show him how to make rings, but he wasn’t very good at it. Impatient, he looked back along the ridge of the tallest tower on Suna’s borders. The walls of his village were large and imposing above him. On ground level, he could still trail his eyes along the entrance where Yaeko was supposed to pop out of five minutes ago.

Bloody woman.

This was just a bad night overall. He had no idea how this particular kunoichi had ever made it as a genin, let alone her current rank of chunin. She was always late. She didn’t own a clock and slept like a log. He’d gone to wake her numerous times only to be kicked in the head, or somewhere more precious, as she startled into consciousness.

I shouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.

As a newly appointed Jounin, guard duty was supposed to be off his roster. But things had not been going according to plan for several years now. He ran a hand down the front of his flak jacket. There was just no getting used to how much more comfortable this uniform made him feel. The rank came with perks, including not having to do guard duty, but the village had been short-handed recently, with the increase in missions and training of more genin squads than usual. So, he’d volunteered. At least for a few shifts before his new team had been organised. There was nothing to do until then, anyway. Rumour had it, open war was upon them, and his specialty was in high demand, even in this Cold War.

He was a sensor.

This was why he felt it; a sudden spike of chakra that was barely there if you weren’t paying attention. He waved a hand sign to two nearby patrol guards, and they paused, also waiting to see what was going on. If it was another attack, they would be ready. The fires that had spread through their home had come from inside, but anything was possible.

All three guards tensed at the soft flash of light. A figure that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

The newly appointed jounin sighed in relief as their visitor stepped into view. Just beyond the gate there was a blind spot of darkness at night-time that even moonlight couldn’t fill. If you never did guard duty, you’d never know it was there.

“Sorry about that,” she said, looking anything but.

The guard stood to attention. “Lady Temari, everyone’s been worried.” He frowned, eyeing the way she was holding herself; her iron fan weapon was doing most of the holding. “And, if you don’t mind me saying, it looks like we have reason to be.”

Temari grunted at him. “I don’t need a medic,” she said, when he opened his mouth to speak again. “I just need to get home. I have to report straight to…” She winced.

He’d met her in person a few times and if there was one thing he’d learned about the oldest of the sand siblings it was that she hated being treated like she was useless. Nobody helped her. She helped herself. That was the rumour too. By the looks of her, she’d used up all her chakra just to get back and it was clearly embarrassing her. She shifted her stance, attempting to look more imposing. Her face was flushed and there were bruises and gashes on her person he was sure were hurting more than she let on.

No need to drag this out, I guess.

He nodded to her, and she visibly relaxed. “Understood.” He motioned to the patrol guards who were still standing in the same wary stance from before Temari had revealed herself. “I can’t leave my post but–”

“No,” she said, “you.”

Was this because he was a jounin? The other guards were chunin. A number of reasons came to mind, but he didn’t know what the big deal was.

“Come on,” she interrupted his thoughts. Temari started towards him, using her fan like a cane.

He nodded again and ordered one of the patrol guards to take his place until he returned. The blonde grimaced as he slid his arm around her. She stumbled and swore under her breath. They took a moment before he suggested using his own brand of the Body Flicker Technique. She seemed amenable.

“What do I call you, Mr Jounin Guard?” She asked as he manoeuvred them better so he could form the signs properly.

“My name is Arata, my lady.”

.:.

It was only an hour. It felt longer. Gaara carried Sakura’s sleeping form into her room after her breakdown, tucking her into the bedsheets, unable to leave her. For an hour. He just sat on the side of the bed, watching her, and resisting the urge to brush the errant strands of pink hair from her face.

She looks so peaceful right now. And he should leave.

But Gaara couldn’t move. Under normal circumstances, he’d feel like a pervert or creeper for hovering while she slept. But he wasn’t paying attention to her body. Not like that. Not right now. Besides, she was tucked up under the blankets. She was hidden. He just couldn’t bring himself to stand up. To move away from her. It felt like he’d be leaving her behind, or something. It was a ludicrous feeling, he knew, but one he felt, nonetheless.

It was an old story, for himself, how much he’d been worrying over her. Objectively, she was supposed to be his fiancé, so his concern was warranted. But there was a line he’d told himself not to cross. He’d never had cause to worry about that until now.

Gaara sighed as Sakura stirred suddenly. She pouted in her sleep, and he found himself smiling. Whatever she was dreaming about, it wasn’t horrid at least. Without thinking, he reached over and brushed those strands of hair away from her eyes and she sighed, settling down.

Don’t think about that.

Gaara looked around the room. It was a spare room, of course. There were too many rooms in this place. Growing up, he’d wondered if all the rooms were for invisible entities, just like the one that lived inside his head. He’d been too scared to check. After his father started trying to kill him, everything changed. His fear went away. When he returned to the family, he checked them one night only to be disappointed. They were just empty bedrooms.

There was a lesson in there, somewhere, about not fearing the unknown.

His eyes skimmed over what Sakura had done with the room, which wasn’t much since she owned so little. The back of the door worried him. What were all those numbers for? He narrowed his eyes. They were a tally. He didn’t understand it.

Finally, Gaara decided to leave. His presence wasn’t doing anything, negative or positive.

Sakura groaned at the same time he felt a flare of chakra that didn’t belong to her, himself, or Kankuro. It was too weak to identify, and he immediately thought of that Root shadow and, what is he up to now? But it wasn’t him.

Gaara took one quick glance at Sakura to make sure she wasn’t disturbed, and quickly left her room.

Kankuro came bumbling out of his room at the same time, with a stunned look on his face. Spotting Gaara, that expression twisted into a coy one. The redhead had just come out of Sakura’s room, after all. Gaara shook his head to silence his question. There were more important things right now. Kankuro nodded silently, and then barrelled down the stairs ahead of his brother.

The weak chakra flare was closer and stronger now.

“Temari.”

He followed his brother down the stairs and into the study at the forefront of the mansion. Surrounded by comfort and a conference table that his sister had once dubbed a war table, Temari stood in the centre of the room. She was alone. But there had been someone with her a moment ago. Gaara and Kankuro both let out a sigh of relief at the sight of their sister. Kankuro made a move like he was going to rush over to her and then stopped. The tears in her clothes, caked blood, and bruises were all obvious. She wasn’t standing under her own power either, her iron fan signature weapon doubling as a leaning post. Her right hand trembled ever so slightly, out of synch with the trembling of her left leg. Gaara swallowed heavily, trying not to imagine all manner of things she’d been through.

She’s alive, he told himself. And that’s all that matters.

Clearing his throat, Kankuro brushed off his hesitation and moved forward. “Temari, I–”

“Settle down,” she interrupted. “Don’t make a fuss.” She moved toward the largest chair in the room, controlling her trembling as best she could, before stumbling. Both of her brothers stepped forward now, moving to help but Temari held up a hand to stop them. She inhaled sharply through her nose and then sank into the thick, leather lined chair with a deep sigh of relief. “Just give me a moment.”

“Do you need a–”

“No.”

Gaara gave Kankuro a pointed look. But his brother just brushed him off.

“Where is the rest of your squad?”

“They’ll be here in the morning,” she said, not looking at them. “They’re worse off than I am. They’ll need the night to rest before making the journey back.” She closed her eyes for a few blissful, quiet moments before forcing herself to sit up. “I thought I should get this information to you as fast as possible.”

Gaara took the scroll from her outstretched hand, meeting her all the way so she wouldn’t strain herself. He gripped it tightly but didn’t move to open it. She raised her eyebrows at him and glared until he sighed and unrolled it. Kankuro moved next to him to read over his shoulder. After a moment, Kankuro made a distinctly unimpressed noise and moved away, while Gaara reread it carefully. Slowly. Again. And again.

“That’s some intel, sis,” Kankuro said, taking one of the other plush chairs and crossing his arms over his chest.

Temari nodded. “They’re on the move again and the daimyo is moving to intercept. Our spotters have lost their whereabouts.”

Gaara let that sink in. The night that Danzo took over Konoha, the Fire Daimyo called an emergency meeting with all the other daimyo. It was a strategic move to prevent the others from acting on the insurgence. The usurper took over with no consequences on the political and inter-village level. The old man had to know that not all the kage were happy about this betrayal. Gaara was not the only one. Even the Raikage had, allegedly, fought with his daimyo over it. But there was nothing to be done beyond complaining, behind the scenes. To publicly condemn Danzo’s actions, given they were sanctioned by a daimyo, would be too risky. It might even be seen as an act of war.

(It was moments like these in which Gaara missed Naruto most of all. He wouldn’t have taken this lying down.)

So, the Leaf Resistance received no help from anyone. Not officially. They fled their village, those that managed to, and roamed the five nations. Officially, they were deserters and were to be either killed or captured on sight. But the past few years had been very quiet on that front. Because they had received help. Gaara had given it to them. When he could.

That’s a complicated can of worms.

“Should we tell Sakura?” Kankuro asked Gaara.

“Sakura?” Temari sat up straight in the chair, wincing at the movement. “Sakura Haruno is here?”

Kankuro snorted. “Do you know any other Sakura’s?”

It was Gaara’s turn to wince. “She is here.”

His sister looked anxious all of a sudden. “Why?”

Kankuro snorted again, this time a little louder. “Because we have a traitor in the council.”

Temari’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Keep your voice down,” Gaara said. Sakura could wake up. They could gather the attention of the Root shadow outside. He felt the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his eyes.

“Why is she here?”

“Danzo sent her,” Kankuro said. She scoffed but he continued. “He and our esteemed council decided it was high time Gaara is married.”

Temari raised her eyebrows at Gaara, and the redhead scowled at the light twitching of humour at the corner of her mouth. She stamped it down, though. “If we can’t trust the council–”

“We can trust Ebizō,” Gaara interrupted. “I have a deal with him,” he added, when his siblings looked sceptical. “And you forget all he’s done for the village.”

“We don’t forget, Gaara,” she said, pressing a hand to her side again and wincing. “We simply overlook it.”

“What deal?” Kankuro asked.

Gaara glanced up at the ceiling. “If he retires now, that will leave the council in chaos. I persuaded him to remain, to groom Councillor Ryūsa for the position.”

“And what does he get in return?”

Gaara didn’t want to say. It wasn’t horrible. It just wasn’t the most ethical bribe he’d ever made. Lord Ebizō had initially gone into retirement because of Lady Chiyo. He’d stopped caring about the cycle of ninja problems because of his sister. And now she was dead. Ebizō had always been the more rational of the two. If things didn’t improve, his retirement would become impossible. Or permanent, if he was ever attacked, out in that oasis all alone.

“Come on, Gaara!” Kankuro said. “You can tell us.”

“I know that. It’s just…”

“You keep him in the loop,” Temari guessed. “Even when you feel the need to hide things from other council members.”

“It is a mutual exchange of information,” Gaara said. He waved a hand between himself and his siblings. “Us, Baki and Ebizō are the only ones I trust.”

“You trust us enough to not tell us about Ebizō until now?”

Temari frowned. “Shut it, Kankuro.” She turned to Gaara. “What about Sakura? How does she fit into all these machinations?”

“She doesn’t.”

“How could she not?” She pointed to the scroll still in Gaara’s hands. “She deserves to know–”

“No.” Gaara returned her icy stare.

“Why?”

Gaara eased off on his stare but didn’t back down. His ability to protect the village lessened with every person who knew about that. He did not believe for one moment that Sakura Haruno would shout it at the top of her lungs, let alone pass the knowledge along quietly to the last people who should know. It wasn’t the point. But he’d promised Naruto to keep her safe. To keep anyone from the Leaf that ever came into his care safe. He did not know when or why it would happen, but the blond had been adamant. And Gaara would not deny the wishes of a dead man.

He closed his eyes, lightly rubbing a slight pain on his chest. Gaara moved to the third chair, feeling exhausted.

But was his silence truly keeping Sakura safe? What would she do if he told her? Would she try to escape and get herself killed trying to track those people down? She was so broken. It was clear to anyone who spent even a short amount of time around her. Could he believe she wouldn’t do something reckless, heedless of her own safety? And how was she even going to find them anyway? Nobody had, for two years. Gaara’s communications with them had been mostly one-sided. He had no idea, right this moment, how to contact them until they broke that silence themselves.

(But of course, he had been trying to, with no luck so far.)

He had no answers for any of that. But Gaara wasn’t an idiot. He knew she would find out eventually. His plans were in a delicate balance right now and pulling one thread from it could bring the whole thing down.

“We need to find out who the council traitor is first,” he said, his voice stronger than he felt. “That is our main priority.”

Temari looked like she wanted to argue more but thought better of it. She sighed and settled further into the chair, almost like she was trying to merge with it. Silence. The siblings all sat, twiddling their proverbial thumbs. Kankuro wanted to talk more about the state his sister was in. Gaara wanted this discussion to get to the point so he could order her to go see a medic. Temari just wanted a hot bath.

She sighed wistfully. “I didn’t know she was still in Konoha.”

Kankuro nodded, biting the inside of his mouth. “Nobody did, apparently. Fire’s best kept secret. Probably some sick game Danzo is playing.”

“How is she?” She asked.

Gaara understood that Temari was more empathetic to people than her reputation let on, but he was surprised by the concern in her voice. He wondered if it was because of what had happened to the Leaf as a whole. Or maybe she was being protective in remembrance for another Leaf shinobi she continued to pine for, long after his death. Gaara remained quiet, contemplating that while his siblings continued talking.

“How long has she been here?”

“I dunno. Maybe three weeks.”

“What has she been doing, missions, hospital–”

“The council wants her in the wedding plans.”

Temari scoffed. “Old farts.”

“I know right? That’s what I said!”

Their discussion moved from what Sakura was doing to what they planned to do with her. This façade of an engagement. How Gaara had been delaying the preparations. And landed on the pinkette’s thievery.

“Plus,” Kankuro pointed a finger at the air, “I’m pretty sure she’s been stealing ink bottles from Gaara’s study. She asked me for some once but that doesn’t account for how much more I’ve had to buy.”

Temari didn’t look convinced. “Why would she want ink?”

“She claims it’s for journal writing. Or maybe it was for writing letters. I don’t remember.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gaara interjected as Temari moved to reply. He wasn’t worried about whatever it was Sakura was using the ink for. He had a feeling it was personal, anyway. And if he could help by turning a blind eye, he would. His siblings looked mollified and fell silent. But eventually, Kankuro had to speak. It was a compulsion.

“She’s looking better though.” He waggled his eyebrows at Gaara.

Temari glared at him. “If I could get up without pulling something right now, I’d smack you.” She sighed as her brothers’ expressions grew grim. “About this thing with Danzo…”

That was another can of worms. Temari knew the alliance they had was just for show. But she was behind on why they were going along with it.

Kankuro lost his smile. “His shadows are up to something.”

Temari looked confused for a moment, then it dawned on her. “There’s a Foundation member in the village?”

“I forgot that’s their official name,” he replied, pulling a face. “But yeah, a Root member followed Sakura on this mission of hers. We’re keeping him out of sensitive areas of the village,” he added, when Temari looked scandalised. “And Gaara has a couple of Anbu trailing him at all times. The fucker gets around, let me tell you.”

Temari nodded, then sighed. “It seems I missed a lot.”

“Does that mean you’re staying now?”

“Kankuro,” she said snappily.

“Temari,” he mocked her.

“I have to–”

“No, you don’t,” he snapped. “There are other ninja in this village who can–”

Temari groaned, her voice rising as she interrupted him. “So, you’re fine with others getting hurt and maybe dying in my place while I sit here, holed up and doing nothing of value?”

“Yes! Yes, I am!”

She gripped the arms of her chair painfully, seething and glaring at him as he glared right back. Then she winced and clutched at her side. Temari took a deep breath, her face tinged red with anger. “Well, that’s just–”

“Keep your voices down,” Gaara said, echoing his earlier sentiment. He agreed with Kankuro, but as the Kazekage he couldn’t voice the fact that he’d rather send multiple squadrons out than risk his own sister. Even in front of family. Temari sat back in her chair, staring at the ceiling and Kankuro stood, now pacing behind his armchair. This wasn’t the reunion Gaara had been hoping for. But tension was a given among siblings, no matter their relationship. He waited a few minutes for tempers to settle and opened his mouth to speak again, but Temari beat him to it.

Her eyes had drifted in the direction of the internal staircase. She looked determined. “I want to see her.”

“She is asleep,” Gaara said, ignoring the way Kankuro smirked and waggled his eyebrows, clearly remembering where his brother had been when Temari had returned. “I do not wish to disturb her.”

And she was so exhausted, Gaara doubted she’d be lucid enough for an impromptu visit, even if Temari did wake her up. He had no idea how tiring the events of every day was for her. Especially one as jam packed with work at the hospital as the current day had been. Not to mention how she’d tired herself out with that meltdown. She needed to rest.

Temari nodded slowly. “Okay. In the morning, then.”

“You should get healed up,” Kankuro told her. “You’re no good to anyone in this state,” he added, when she growled at him.

“Kankuro is right,” Gaara said, and she sighed. “You could barely walk into the room and are clearly in pain.”

She glared at them both.

“Temari–”

“Fine. If…” She looked away, her cheeks turning red, “someone could help me to the medical core… thanks.”

Kankuro strode over to her immediately and Gaara stood and ducked to lift her slowly so she could stand. She winced again and he almost called his sand to help but decided to manually move her. They hobbled toward the front door.

Kankuro tapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got this. You need to rest. You look worse than you did yesterday.”

That was true. His own sleep had been even more strained as of late, as well. Gaara nodded reluctantly and moved out of the way as his brother shifted to guide their sister better. She would not be carried like she was a child, so he kept her upright and grunted under her weight. Perhaps it was her way also, of punishing him for those earlier remarks. Temari spared Gaara a soft look and he smiled at his sister.

“It is not weak to accept help when you need it,” her admonished as Kankuro took her away. He knew she’d heard him. He could only hope she understood.

.:.

The sound of heavy rain startled her out of her cosy dreams. Light streamed into the room and she blinked heavily, a warm smile on her face. There was no rain. It existed only in her mind. But that was okay. She’d slept well, all things considered. Surprisingly enough. Maybe it had something to do with how she’d exhausted herself the previous night. Sakura had cried herself to sleep a number of times over the years but never did it leave her feeling so refreshed, come morning.

Or maybe it was Gaara.

Even if it wasn’t, it made her feel warm. Safe. Content. She snuggled into the bed sheets and poked a tongue at herself, giggling softly into her pillow as she stretched out as far as she could. There was no logical reason for it but she felt ridiculously happy.

Ridiculous.

Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to question it. Sakura closed her eyes and rolled over, away from the sunlight. But the warmth of it on her back was comforting. All she cared about was that post-dream feeling she’d missed having for a very long time. This was what mornings were supposed to feel like. No headaches. No post-nightmare illusions. She wondered idly if the Prazosin she’d stolen from the hospital had anything to do with this but it was probably too early for the effects to kick in.

Not that it mattered, really. She sighed once more before holding her breath, eyes wide.

There’s a new chakra signature in the building.

She sat up quickly and froze, heart racing.

Who is that?

The familiarity of it struck her but she couldn’t place it. They flared and it spiked a few times as though in warning but it came with no war cry or burst of aggressive pulses. No hand signs were being woven.

Just saying, hello or I’m home. What the hell?

But they’d made it through the sealing barrier and whomever they were, Kankuro was with them so she knew it wasn’t an intruder. Sakura laid back down, following Gaara’s chakra as she sensed him leave his room and join Kankuro and the new (but not really new) person down stairs. She smiled. Her housemates had a really predictable sleep schedule.

She knew that Kankuro fell asleep pretty fast, when he was alone. In that case she simply had to wait for about ten minutes of silence, to be sure there were no conscious occupants of the room. Sakura smiled at that, though she was always careful to silence her room as best as possible. It made her wonder if Gaara (or Temari) had ever called him out on how loud he could be.

Gaara was another matter. He clearly still had a residual level of insomnia so if she wanted to sneak down to the first floor (for example), she had to make it look like she was going for a midnight snack. If he found her, she needed an excuse. She liked the snacks they stocked, so it fit.

Or icecream, she thought, remembering the previous encounter she’d had with Gaara. It still burned her with embarrasment. The council wanted to take the kunai back but she felt a weird sense of ownership over it that her anxiety let get out of control. She hated that her weakness was so obvious and that she’d overreacted to the thought of the kunai being taken away. She could still remember the uncontrollable bubble of emotion that raged right over her as she lost control of herself and her common sense.

She sighed.

I need to get up.

Sakura couldn’t lie in bed forever, and she was curious about this new chakra signature. After she quickly showered though, the anxiety had kicked back in so she decided to find out who they were later. Her hand had hovered over the door nob but she wasn’t ready to go out there and face any of them. The owner of the chakra had come upstairs and she realised with startling clarity that she knew who it was.

She still had memories of the tough, no-nonsense kunoichi that had clearly won the heart of her friend. Shikamaru. The thought of him made her eyes moist but she kept the tears from forming. Years ago, there’d been something special between Shikamaru and Temari, mixed in with their mutual griping. And while it hurt her heart to think of them never seeing each other again, she was glad the other kunoichi had survived.

Sakura pressed the palms of her hands against the door, instinctively pushing down her chakra past where she had already done so and listened to the sounds of Temari moving through the house, entering her own room. Followed by a few light crashes like she was tipping something over.

She’s okay?

Sakura wanted to go check but this was enough for now. She pulled away from the door, getting a face full of the messy scribbles of daily kanji she’d been adding to the back of it. She glared at them. No. She could add to it later. The clock on her wall told her it was almost breakfast time. Unlike dinner, breakfast seemed mostly an individual affair in this house.

But six o’clock was too early for her.

Sakura didn’t feel tired anymore though, so she decided to do something else. There was only one other thing that had been on her mind lately. But while she’d already perfected her ink bird creation and sent one scouting around the village, there was little Sakura could do without alerting either the Root shadow or other ninja to any escape attempt. It still felt important to her to use the creatures and find a path out, no matter what happened. But she also needed another provision, if she was ever going to accomplish this. Sakura needed poison. The land of wind had many avenues with which to explore this combat option, but very few that Sakura had any access to. After rattling through a long list of possibilities in her head, on how to do this, only one option stood out as even remotely feesible. She was going to have to find a venomous animal. A local one. A native. Something very dangerous. It was an exciting prospect.

The difference between poison and venom was simple: the former was used to refer to toxins that were injested (eaten, etc), and the later was applied to organisms that bite or sting to inject toxins. The way the foreign substance was introduced into the body was the key. She needed venom.

Sakura knew some poison jutsu learned from Shizune, but did not own any tools that could help. Everything she ever had on her person was highly regulated, even the travelling bag. Objects like her charcoal and a few trinkets she’d collected that had no combat value had only been allowed because they were inocuous and the Foundation members who poked and prodded it weren’t personally aware of any intimate connections they might have.

She had Sai’s charcoal, which he’d left behind in his apartment and was overlooked when Root ransacked the place. A ragged toad figurine that Naruto had startled her with once as a practical joke and she’d found in rubble near his destroyed apartment. A twig from Yamato’s Wood Release from that time he’d used his technique to help her save her dying plant; it had still been in her parent’s house, waiting for her. A fingerless glove of Kakashi’s, minus the metal plate; she’d found it not far from the last known location of his body. And a scrap of material she’d torn from Sasuke’s mostly burnt Konoha headband that was going to be thrown out after a Root member was caught keeping it as a trophy. These items had each been carefully collected over time, starting with the charcoal during her first time free of the Root headquarters.

Sakura ran her fingers over the travel bag without opening it. The urge to do so was strong though. But no, they were best left covered and out of sight. She had trinkets and nothing useful for what she planned to get out of her stay in Suna. She hadn’t gone out of her way to procur weapons or poisons that Danzo hadn’t assigned to her or she hadn’t stolen, in years.

The preparation this kunai was going to need was more complicated than simply dipping it in venom, so her resources were limited. Trying to get everything she needed would draw too much attention.

I can handle this.

She’d had larger stumbling blocks. She just needed to focus on the things she could do more easily, right now. But that venom was non-negotiable.

Sakura had already practised giving instructions to the ink birds she sent on reconnaisance, so she imagined telling one to bring her a poisonous snake wouldn’t be difficult. She just needed the right tools for this job. Ink based tools, to be precise.

Sakura knelt down on the floor of her bedroom, tucking her feet under her bum and opened the stopper for the ink well, laying out the scroll as usual. She didn’t need to reference the book to get the image and proportions right this time. Practice made perfect but only if you were capable of it. She would just have to deal with what came out of this. But the repetitive motions had afforded her more leeway. She could even experiment with the shape more than before. She ran through the familiar movements, bringing the bird to life first and she smiled as it cawed at her.

“Sshh!” She held a finger to her lips and it obediently dipped its head in a show of what this weird version of anthropomorphism would call compliance. It had been loud, but there was no noise from outside her room. No feet rushed to find the source of the noise.

Sakura sighed in relief. “Keep quiet, okay?”

The bird dipped its head once more and flapped its wings.

“Okay.” She cleared her throat. The bird was larger than the rest as she’d modelled it after a vulture (bad artistic skills notwithstanding), though it was still smaller than the real birds of the species. She needed it large enough to catch a viper snake but not so large that many people would be drawn to it. It occurred to her that maybe this bird wasn’t enough. Wherever it found a snake (and Sakura was mostly sure there were some in a sanctuary within Suna itself, but maybe not) it had to grab it without alerting any humans in the area. Or any jutsu that could alert humans.

So another ink animal would be needed to accompany it.

Snakes had numerous natural predators, not the least of which was other snakes. It was perfect.

The size concerns for the ink snake were the same for the ink bird. She settled on forming a few generic looking snakes to test, as she’d done many times for the bird, but didn’t need to do it as much. They were a far simpler design. The snake she settled on reminded her of the viper in the book she’d borrowed from Kankuro and she was proud of how much better she was at that.

Still no better than a five year old’s drawing, mind.

Sakura tested the snake by telling it to leave the kazekage mansion for a few minutes before returning. Her heart raced as she watched it go, her eyes drifting to the clock on her wall as she counted out the seconds. She waited, with the ink bird impatiently hopping around and pecking at her floor (what was up with that?), and waited. Eventually, the snake slithered back in through the open window and she had to muffle a woop of excitement.

“Yes,” she said with a soft hiss and held her hand out to the snake. It moved to her without hesitation and coiled around her wrist, moving gently up her arm. She’d never held a real snake before so Sakura had no idea if these smooth and dry sensations were from the texture of the ink or just her imagination. It felt so soft though, as her poor attempts at scales were not even scales. But she couldn’t stop grinning.

The ink bird hopped over to her and tapped at the ink snake which caused the faux reptile to raise up and hiss at its attacker. It was more of a gurgling sound that only sounded like hissing if you really wanted it to.

“Hey,” she snapped. “Settle down.”

The bird gave her a baleful look that only made her chuckle at it. How did the damn thing have so much personality?

Maybe it stole mine.

That thought caused a new round of giggles from her. Her creations were so sloppy compared to what Sai could’ve done but the immensity of pride she felt over them could not be quashed. She hadn’t created anything for herself in so long, it felt like a lifetime since the last moment she’d ever felt this proud of herself. Sakura couldn’t remember the last time but logically it was from before Danzo’s takeover. Perhaps in the midst of battle or an accomplishment while studying more difficult medical jutsu.

It didn’t even matter.

She felt so free in that moment. So weightless.

I feel like I can take on the world.

If she could recreate these things then her plans were going to be so much easier.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” she said, and both bird and snake facsimiles turned to face her. “I need a venomous snake. A real one. But…” She didn’t want it dead but Sakura also had no experience dealing with live snakes. They were dangerous, even if you chopped off their head. She could use the ink animals to subdue it but there’d always be that underlying fear that it would break loose and bite her. It was not rational for them to bring it back alive.

Sorry.

She sighed. “Let’s try for a viper – they’re native to the desert. Work together. Find something within Suna if you can, but stay out of sight.” She paused. “And kill it first. Quickly. But keep it constrained at all times, and bring the carcass to me, but only if I’m alone, like in this room. Just… don’t be seen.”

No reaction. Their lifeless eyes just stared at her. It was kind of creepy, but she’d prefer these to her look-alike mirage any day. “Now,” she barked.

They moved immediately; the bird hopped up to the window and waited for the snake to slither up to it. Under their own, respective power, they disappeared. Gone through the open window. Sakura watched them vanish, now feeling morose. Her mood dimmed. She had no idea if and when they would return, but despite this, was confident none of this would be in vain.

.:.

There was no excuse to delay it any longer. The day had begun. And like it or not, she had to return to her previous obligations. For now. Fresh on the high of having finally sent her ink creatures out to capture and kill a snake for her venom, Sakura dressed (having already showered), and then tentatively made her way downstairs, knowing all three of the sand siblings were waiting for her.

They were in the kitchen.

Sakura smelled the fried breakfast from the top of the stairs and on the last step, her stomach gurggled painfully. She walked into the kitchen and stopped immediately, her body tensing as one of the figures in the room turned and threw themselves at her. Normally, she’d have ducked out of the way and counterattacked but Sakura found herself rooted to the spot as Temari embraced her. The pinkette didn’t hug her back, despite all the alarm bells ringing in her head, reminding her she probably should. It was a weird way to feel torn. But she did relax into the blonde’s hold and waited her out instead of trying to push her away.

“Come on, Temari,” Kankuro said eventually. “Let her breathe and eat something before you attempt to suffocate her, at least.”

“Sorry.”

Sakura plastered a fake smile to her face as Temari pulled away. The blonde winced immediately.

Bad fake smile.

She was ushered over to the island in the middle of the kitchen, next to Gaara, who gave her a small smile that she easily returned. It seemed they were all waiting for her to do or say something.

“Thank-you,” she whispered, when Kankuro handed her a plate ladden with fired bacon, eggs, and tomato.

“Anything you want to add?” He asked, and she chose some extra bacon and some onion. Lots of it.

Sakura smiled around her food as the siblings fell into silence, thankfully not all staring at her now.

Well this is fun.

.:.

After breakfast, a knock on the door signalled the arrival of Matsuri and Yukata, who had taken over supervisory roles of escorting Sakura to the wedding planning. Gaara had been able to get Sakura out of most of these ridiculous days, but the council had insisted she attend a few days a week, and today was one of those days. He watched her face fall when she realised, but then lighten up when Kankuro flung the door open to reveal her new escorts.

Matsuri and Yukata greeted Temari warmly, clearly having not realised she was back, then did their duty and escorted Sakura away.

Silence fell in their wake. Not that there had been a rabble of noise before then.

Kankuro whistled. “Well, that was interesting.”

Temari’s confusion was evident. She was biting her bottom lip and staring at the door like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. Gaara felt the need to tell her everything. So, he did. In short, stilted sentences, but leaving out all the intimate moments he’d had with Sakura. Just the highlights of the important things.

Temari let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, fuck me.”

Kankuro laughed and coughed at the same time. She ignored him.

“This complicates things,” she said. “How much have you told her about this fake engagement?”

“He’s been avoiding her,” Kankuro said.

“I have not.”

The brunette just laughed.

“She joins us for dinner every night,” Gaara said. “And… I may have. A little.”

Except for moments like last night. Which they didn’t need the details of.

Temari snorted. “Well, if it’s from some misguided sense of not wanting to get close to her since this marriage thing is clearly a sham, then stop it.” She held up a hand to stop his retort, if in fact he meant to reply when he stood taller and opened his mouth slightly. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that by avoiding her, you might be doing more harm than good? That it could be interpreted as her not being good enough. That you might as well be strangers?”

“Aren’t you overreacting?” Kankuro asked.

“No,” she snapped.

The emotion on her face startled her brothers. Gaara remembered Temari had been on good terms with Sakura several years ago but that hardly equated to the level of protectiveness rolling off her right now. Again, he wondered if it was misdirected concern because of that Leaf shinobi she had grown close to.

“I cannot speak to the reality for those on the front lines,” Gaara said. “She went through… something. I don’t know.” He sighed. “She is not the woman we recall.”

“But–”

“But,” Gaara began, drawing the word out. “I have no intention of allowing harm to come to her for as long as she remains our guest.”

“You should tell her that.”

“I want to,” he said, and sighed again, running a hand over his face. “She is strong but fragile. Anything I say may set her off. She seems so delicate. Like a battered flower more than the emotional teenager from my memories. Last night, she broke down over a kunai that was meant to kill her. I do not wish to add to that.”

“Look,” Temari said, “I can’t say what everyone under Danzo’s tyranny has gone through, but from my own personal, subjective and limited experience with anything to do with that regime, I think that whatever you can imagine she endured, the reality was worse.” Her brothers shared a confused look as she continued. “I’ve heard rumours; nothing that can be corroborated. The Foundation are very good at brainwashing techniques. The really barbaric kind of techniques.”

Kankuro groaned. “What does that mean?”

“Danzo is an expert in sealing jutsu,” she continued, ignoring Kankuro and addressing Gaara. “Rumour has it that he implanted every Root member with his own personal sealing jutsu. I can only imagine what kind of invasive things he’s done to others, including Sakura.”

“Where did you hear all of this?”

“Around.”

“No wonder she is the way she is,” Kankuro said. “I’d have run off by now, in her place.”

Gaara knew from his own experience that a broken mind was easier to predict than most people believed. She had nowhere else to go but back to Konoha. It was familiar. And she likely had no idea the Resistance even existed. What else was she going to do? And he knew that runaway Leaf ninja were not spared quick deaths. It still boggled his mind that she was still a part of all that though.

“Anything’s possible,” Temari said, leaning back against the island in the middle of the kitchen and crossing her arms. “The human psyche is really complicated.”

Gaara didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but these things needed to be said. “She needs therapy.”

“Therapy?” Kankuro was confused.

Another thing he had to explain.

They both gave him strange looks.

“Maybe you could be her therapist,” Temari said. She raised an eyebrow at Gaara when he baulked. “Or maybe I’ll do it.”

“She’ll have to be willing,” he said.

“How to convince Sakura-san to go to a mind medic. Hm.” Kankuro rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He was clearly drawing this out for dramatic effect. “Well, I’m drawing a blank.”

Temari scoffed. “You’re always drawing a blank.”

“There’s no such thing as a mind medic,” Gaara said.

“Oh? I guess I just assumed…”

“Then what was all this talk for?”

“Civilian therapist.”

“Eh, I don’t know about that, Gaara.”

The redhead scowled. “I want to be honest with her. But… I don’t know how.”

“How she’ll take it?”

He nodded. “The civilian therapist said not to force or manipulate her into it. She has to do it willingly. And knowingly.”

“You spoke to a civilian therapist on her behalf?”

Gaara felt his face heat up. But what he was so embarrassed over, he didn’t know.

“Well, at least it’s a start.”

That was that, then. What they needed to do was convince her in a way that didn’t back her into a corner.

“How much of this do we tell her?” Kankuro asked.

“Only what’s necessary,” Gaara replied. “We don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“And we need to kill that Danzo bastard,” Temari said. She rolled her eyes when Gaara raised a non-existent eyebrow. “Don’t try to convince me you’re not planning on it. This isn’t the world that Naruto wanted. And it’s his vision you’re trying to uphold. Everything you’ve been doing behind the scenes, apparently with Lord Ebizō’s approval, has been leading to Danzo’s head on a spike, right?”

Gaara sighed, nodding.

“Then it’s like I said: we need to kill that Danzo bastard.”

“Hell yeah!” Kankuro let out a whoop.

“Let’s hope it all goes according to plan.”

“Don’t be a wet noodle, Gaara.”

“Don’t forget we still have one or more council traitors to deal with first. We can’t move against Danzo until they’re disposed of.”

Temari smiled. “You really are a wet noodle, Gaara.”

He shook his head but couldn’t suppress a smile. They fell silent for a moment. The smell of breakfast still lingered in the air.

“This feels strange,” Temari said. “Talking about Sakura like this behind her back,” she added, when her brothers looked confused. “I know we don’t mean anything by it, it’s just… after everything that’s happened. I think we’re all a little broken.”

Gaara stood up straighter, unable to prevent the pang of guilt he felt at the reminder that he still sent Temari out there in this climate. His sister was too stubborn to just sit on the bench and wait it out. She had also lost someone she loved, just as Sakura had. The Nara boy whose given name Gaara could never remember. Temari didn’t even have the closure of knowing who killed the Leaf ninja, let alone how it happened.

He was just gone.

And that is why she still goes out there.

“You should ask her on a date,” Kankuro said suddenly. He blushed as they both turned to stare at him. “Well, he should.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Temari said, impressed. “He could do it under the guise of getting to know her better because of the engagement.” She poked Gaara’s arm. “Which you will do, regardless. Date her, talk to her, and try to figure out how we can help her in the meantime.”

He sighed and nodded. Gaara wasn’t opposed to the idea, but there were so many ways this could go wrong.

“This is cool,” Kankuro smiled widely. “And if they really hit it off, maybe it won’t be fake anymore.”

Gaara just rolled his eyes.

“In the meantime,” Temari said, rubbing her hands together in a mock evil genius gesture, “go get that date organised.”

“When I return tonight,” he promised, before turning on his heel and leaving.

His siblings watched him leave.

Kankuro gave Temari a one-armed hug. “Aaww, he cares about her.”

“Get off me.” She shoved him away, ignoring his yelp when Kankuro fell over. “Brothers.”

.:.

Where the hell are they?

Sakura had just returned from her day of hellish wedding plans and one of the few things that had gotten her through the day was the hope to see her ink creations returning with a dead snake in her bedroom.

Weird kink.

“Perfect for someone so fucked up.”

Sakura glanced toward the door to her closet where the mirage stood, a maniacal grin on its ugly face a shiver running down her spine. She tried standing up to the damn thing, but it made no difference. It freaked her out. Old and new pain.

“Just admit it: your little experiment failed. You took drugs to sleep better but you’re as fucked up as ever.”

“Shut up.” Sakura started pacing her room. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a mindless, stupid, ugly mirage.”

Not mature, but she didn’t care.

The figure floated toward her, and she stepped backward.

“You’re regressing,” it said. “Letting your fears barricade you in this room. Because you know you don’t deserve anything better.”

“You’re wrong.”

It cackled.

Shaking, Sakura moved toward the window and turned away from the ugly mirror that was the mirage. It was like turning your back on an enemy when you know they have a kunai in their hand. Her own kunai was currently tucked in the window frame. She stroked the handle as it sat in the grooves of the frame, lovingly. There were no distinguishing marks, because it had been procured for a man whose final mission was to sneak into the hidden sand village for assassination, but she liked the blandness of it.

And soon it’ll shine. Soon it’ll sing and shine and kill. With poison.

She smiled at that, forcing herself to ignore the mirage, hoping it had disappeared behind her back.

The sunset was still a little while away, so she just stood and watched the light patters of the bright rays as they slowly changed colour to signal the end of the day. A soft breeze made her shiver, but she embraced it. Even the occasional shadowy hint that her Root stalker was nearby didn’t lessen the contentment she felt as she stroked the kunai. Over and over again.

Blessed silence.

And then the sun fell from the sky.

When she finally heard Gaara return and climb the stairs to his room, Sakura pushed away from the window, leaving the kunai behind. The mirage watched as she grabbed the stick of charcoal from her travel bag and wrote the kanji for twenty-four on the back of the door before leaving the room. She wasn’t going to get anywhere just hiding out with her broken psyche. It grinned at her, like it was silently challenging her to do what she was about to do. Or telling her she was too chicken to even try.

I’ll show you.

She drew a deep breath and then threw her bedroom door open. Adrenaline drove her. She moved, forcing herself not to overthink it. If she stopped and ran through the ramifications of what she was about to do, in her mind, she would not be doing it.

Now or never.

Sakura knocked on the door. His door. No hesitation. No fear. Even as she clasped her hands together in an attempt to control the trembling. Noise from within. She gulped. And forced a smile to her face as the door swung open.

Gaara looked a little surprised to see her. She supposed if her chakra wasn’t currently suppressed instinctively, he’d have sensed her coming.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

Sakura cleared her throat. “Can we talk?”

Gaara moved to let her into his room and closed the door. “I was hoping to speak with you soon.”

“You were?” She was surprised.

Gods this is nerve wracking.

He looked a little nervous now too.

“We should spend some time together.”

What the hell was that?

Her eyes widened. He just blurted it out. The edges of his ears were tinged pink, and his face was slightly flushed. It was cute. He was cute. Incredibly so. She had to hold back a grin. Her heart was racing. In a good way.

“Like a date?”

He nodded. She didn’t think anyone’s face could get that red, that fast. It made her swell with pride. Maybe she could have a little fun with him after all. If he was up to it. If he even knew what that meant. But no matter how excited he was making her; Sakura still felt a bundle of nerves eating at her stomach.

“Okay,” she said, trying not to stutter. He let out a sharp breath and a genuine smiled lit up his face, making her face warm. She tried to return the smile as nonchalantly as possible. “Yeah. I’d l-like that.”

Did someone raise the thermostat? It just got incredibly hot in here.

.:.

[thatlotuscookie]

Request Guidelines

hey, welcome to my request page! Here’s how things work around here. Please read through these before sending in your requests, so we’re all on the same page!

quick intro before we start: i'm hypno, and i'm here to write just about anything that scratches that itch. whether it’s fluffy, dark, or something spicy, i’ve got you covered. I’ll write for any fandom—whether it's anime, a novel, a movie, or something else entirely. so, feel free to get creative with your requests!

✍️ What I Write:

Genres: Dark romance, angst, fluff, slice of life, manhwa-inspired stories, NSFW, and more. Themes: I'm open to pretty much anything—drama, emotional turmoil, romance, conflict, character development, and more. Headcanons: I also write headcanons! If you want to know how a character might act in a certain situation or setting, feel free to ask. NSFW/SFW: You can request either! However, note that NSFW is only for those 18+. Fandoms/Original Works: Open to both! If you have an original character or specific fandom in mind, just give me some context. 🚫 What I Won’t Write: Extreme, glorified violence: Violence is okay in themes like war, emotional conflict, or PTSD, but nothing excessive without purpose. Zoophilia: I won’t write anything involving this, but omegaverse is fine. Disrespectful content: I won’t write anything that’s racist, homophobic, or ableist. No to: Bestiality or underage in explicit scenarios.

📝 How to Request:

Be clear and concise with your request. Include: Character(s): Who do you want me to write about Prompt/Scenario: What do you want to see happen? (Fluff, conflict, spicy, emotional moments, etc.) Tone/Style: Do you want something angsty, humorous, romantic, or a mix? Headcanons: If it's a headcanon request, describe the scenario or theme you want.

If your request involves an OC, be sure to include details (appearance, personality, background).

Be patient! I’m in college and will get to your request when I can. I promise to do my best to get to everyone.

🛑 Minors DNI:

My content can get dark or explicit. If you’re under 18, please do not interact with NSFW content or send in NSFW requests. No exceptions. I am not liable for anything if you choose to read what I write.

Feel free to start requesting now! I’m excited to see what you’ll come up with, whether it’s from your favorite fandom or an original idea.

- hypno ᶻz

[musesofthesun]

MUSESOFTHESUN ≡ this is a semi-selective, mutually exclusive para multimuse roleplay blog. this blog contains muses from a variety of media, including obscure ones. not spoiler-free, and uses the beta editor. read rules before interacting. affiliated with @musesofthemoon and @starmuscd!

a study in: the psychology & cognition of characters, friendship & hatred, atypical bonds, second chances, horror & trauma, & the recovery from horrible past experiences — there will be dark themes such as horror, violence, exploration of mental illness & ptsd, and trauma on this blog.

PRIORITY MUSES: idia, yui, sherbet cookie, kris

muse list — promo — @sisturn (abigail dst sideblog)

RULES BELOW CUT.

RULES. hello, hello! I’m Ender, an adult (20) gal with autism and ADHD, majoring in psychology. Thanks for taking the time to read this! There’s no password to send in, so no need to look for one! Please read these carefully. Be 16 or above to interact.

TRIGGERS. (i NEED these tagged. i have a physiological and psychological response to these topics that can greatly affect my mental health. My catch-all tags are "ender dont look" and "ender don't look".)

any religious themes and/or religious intolerance. /!\ when it comes to deltarune specifically, i can tolerate mentions of c.hurch and such, so long as the themes aren't super emphasized upon!

use of the word “god” in reference to powerful beings. Replacing such things with “ruler”/etc and generally making relations akin to king/subjects are good buffers that I can work with.

excessive verbal swearing

craneflies and daddy-long-legs

Extremely heavy organic gore visuals, especially in regard to the nervous system, organs, guts, and the heart. child (under 4years old) gore

vi.vziepop, good om.ens, supern.atural, c.ult of the l.mb

SQUICKS. i'd appreciate these being tagged as well, but they do not spawn a severe reaction from me. i just want to avoid them.

all smut and lewd content

Politics/Drama

TAGGING. I tag writing and fictional-related talk of potentially triggering topics as #trigger cw. Images are tagged as #trigger image cw— various medias are tagged as #☼ = media. If I miss anything or you need something tagged, please tell me in DMs! I’m happy to help you curate your experience and I want everyone to stay safe. /gen

INTERACTIONS.

non-roleplay blogs, please do not reblog any of my posts. if it's someone else's art/musing/photo/etc I've reblogged, those are free game! but please do not touch posts made by me whether they are in-character, out-of-character, or just my sketches. thanks!

I am mutually exclusive but am generally super friendly! I'll give nearly everyone a chance, even if I don’t know the muse or media! Crossovers, even with no plotting beforehand, are really fun.

I require a rules page to read before I follow, and won’t follow until I’ve read the rules. I tend to like promos to bookmark them so I can read the person’s rules later.

I won’t follow people who do not tag any of their posts. even basic “ic” or “ooc” or “musing” tags and such are good! I don’t care how fancy or simple your tags are, I just care that you have them and use them consistently.

Specifying muse when you send things in is appreciated. I will skip those who do not specify on starter calls, but if it’s an ask or meme then simply expect my current highest muse if you do not specify.

I am duplicate and OC-friendly! For OCs, I require at least a simple About page to look at ‘cause I prefer to know your character a little before interacting! Duplicates are also fun for me to plot with ‘cause past/future meetings, AU meets canon, etc. are SUPER epic plots and very fun! I’m very used to duplicates and have been for years across different RPCs ^.^

I do not roleplay in “character: text” or *action* format. I prefer to interact with people who roleplay paragraph style and have a basic grasp of grammar, punctuation, and spelling; I completely understand if English isn’t your first language, though!

I do not mind unplotted violence against my muses, but make sure you are prepared for the consequences. I love action and battle threads, but any permanent kills must be plotted.

MUN POLICIES.

Mun does NOT equal muse. Just because I, the mun, think or know something does not mean that my muses will. I’m an omnipresent narrator, they are characters in-universe. They each will have different thoughts and opinions than I will. It should go without saying that I do not condone everything any of my muses do.

I am a slow writer. I have college and several other things that take up my time, so I can’t be here twenty-four-seven! Also, my muse fluctuates. I may reply to something instantly if I have the muse for it, or I may get to it weeks later. I hoard drafts and asks like a dragon to get to them eventually! BUT feel free to nudge me if you want to remind me, I won’t mind!

Importantly, I match my partner’s energy. If someone frequently engages me to talk about our characters, I’m likely to do the same! Unfortunately, the same applies if we hardly interact or talk at all; I’m good at interacting and communicating first, but I have a limited pool of energy.

I do not ship romantically on this blog, minus with mixed-up-multiverse/gracie. I don’t mind others’ romantic content, I simply personally abstain from writing romantic ships due to being harassed over them in the past. However, I love familial ships, platonic ships, rivalries, work relationships, enemy/antagonistic dynamics, and relations that can't necessarily be defined with words!

ON FANDOMS & MEDIA.

Expect headcanons to sometimes fluctuate and also expect canon divergence. I also am keen on plotting when interactions take place, but no pressure!

I am unaffiliated with any fandoms or creators.

some icons for DR muses are sourced from goomyloid. for UT/DR, i subscribe to this interpretation.

I will interact with/make AUs for the following fandoms. Still, they can be tagged upon request: Final Fantasy(i know the most about VII, VIII, IX, X, XV, Unlimited, Dissidia, Dissidia 012), Sonic The Hedgehog, Pokemon, Portal, Gravity Falls, Ducktales 2017, A Hat in Time, Little Nightmares, Over The Garden Wall, OMORI, IB, The Legend of Zelda, DELTARUNE, UNDERTALE, Don’t Starve, Pocket Mirror, Super Mario Bros., Spiderverse, and Overwatch. I am very selective but not opposed to Five Nights at Freddy's, Murder Drones and The Amazing Digital Circus interactions. For these, if I followed you first/we’re mutuals, then we’re chill!

& that's all! Please check out the muse list ^v^!

[jaybrd-webtoons]

Welcome to hell my unpopular Tumblr blog :D

(Please read this though I doubt you will lol)

A little bit about me:

My name is Jay (obviously it's literally in this blog name)

I am part Ukrainian. I will make war jokes. It's just my way of coping. If you make war jokes, however, I will find your ip address

I'm a recovering sh addict, and no life isn't perfect but trust me I'm fine. Perfectly fine.

I made dark jokes to cope with depression, if you're offended then I'm sorry that you're a pussy

I used to have a bird named Tori. He will always be superior to all of us.

If you talk shit about my favorite YouTuber, I *will* end you (I already got in a fight once and won when someone way older then me called him a Neo Nazi)

I'm an ✨avgeek✨ and I can and will talk about my favorite airplanes for long periods of time

I'm also doing art trades now as well as willing to take requests (please I'm bored tell me to draw shit) and also feel free to draw my OCs!

I've spent the last 3 years creating a project titled 'Nebo- tse Dim' or 'The Sky is Home' where you will occasionally receive art, character info, and lore dumps here.

The story 'Nebo- Tse Dim' (Небо- це Дім/The Sky is Home) may include dark themes such as:

Life in war-torn areas

Loss of a parent

Maternal mortality

Corruption

Suicidal ideation

Self harm

Extreme amounts of violence (it's a war fantasy it's not going to be all sunshine and rainbows)

Gore. So. Much. Gore.

Substance abuse

Loss of close friends

Abusive parents (but hey it's one of the antagonists, mc is perfectly fine)

Witnessing the homicide of someone you love at a young age

Terrorism (obviously cuz the main antagonist is the head of a major terrorist group)

Undiagnosed depression/anxiety

Major PTSD flashbacks

Minor hints at domestic terrorism (it was only in one scene)

War (because it's a war fantasy! Of course there's going to be war!)

Child abuse/neglect

Abuse of power

And probably a lot more that I forgot to mention

Anyways please be nice and thanks for tolerating my shenanigans

🔫 also read my webtoons dammit

[sanamains]

#𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 — 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮. an independent medical drama themed roleplay blog, featuring: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗍, 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗒'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗒, and various original characters. — est. april 2025.

a study in: the duty of a healer, survivor's guilt, human temptations and connections, the deadly sins. ACTIVITY NOTICE: i work full time around 48-60 hours a week; therefore, my activity is low, i'm usually online a few hours a week. please bare in mind when you hit the lil' follow button. this blog is also a side passion project and it is not my main blog so i'll be on here even less. but rest assured, i will be and i will love every minutes of it. ♫.

○ inbox. ○ memes. ○ headcanons. ○ promo. ○

rules.

these are going to be really basic. first one is i only write with mutuals, and i'm selective about my mutuals. writing is a passion of mine and i expressive myself through it and i expect the same level of dedication from my writing partners.

i generally don't want my writing partners to be under the age of twenty-one, due to some dark themes that will be on this blog namely including: domestic violence, addiction, self harm, ptsd, medical trauma, character death. if you're a healthcare provider you know this is just the normal day to day, and i will not shy from drawing from my own work into my writing.

chemistry is shipping, and shipping is not just romance. i am obsessed with chosen family and best friend tropes in media, soulmates and everything in between. if you want to ship with my character please don't hesitate. i'm absolutely the most down to ship peson on the planet.

lastly, don't be an ass. i will hardblock you.

muses.

aurora ' rory ' jett. er nurse. ( original character - fc: lucy hale ) single mother, current addict. rory is what you call a high functioning addict, swapping out addictions and in complete denial over the fact that she is an alcoholic. she only attends NA, having used various other drugs in her teenage years. after escaping an abusive grooming situation as a minor, she started her life anew after she found out she was pregnant. ( though her ex is not the father - rory spent a few years meandering as a barista and sought validations through some very messy one night stands ) her daughter, now six years old, is the light of her life. primary.

john ' johnny ' grayson. emt. ( original character - fc: lucien laviscount ) closeted gay and filled with anger towards his father's untimely passing, his father, a young prodigee in law enforcement, rising in the ranks before dying in a shoot out when first responders couldn't stabilise him to get him to the hospital soon enough. and young johnny witnessed it, along with his sister mary. when he's not on shift he's picking up shifts as a bouncer at the local night life, and when he's not doing that, he's pummeling a lot of pent up feelings into a sandbag at the boxing gym. primary.

josephine ' jo ' wilson. obgyn resident. ( grey's anatomy canon divergent - fc: camilla luddington ) after the hell that had been the pandemic, jo had hit rock bottom. unhappy with her life and career, she chose herself, and chose joy, and adopted a little baby whose mother died giving birth to her and left seattle. she's now settled with her new life and her beautiful daughter, luna, who's also been recently diagnosed with progressive hearing loss. and jo does everything she knows how to adapt and be resilient. and create the life she knows she's always wanted for herself and her daughter. secondary.

trinity santos. em intern. ( isa briones ) the divisive troublemaker who stands out among her peers. trinity always stands out. all eyes are on her, and she realised she likes it that way. she must get the last move, last word, last laugh, and if she falls ? she takes it to the chin and keeps going. everything is carefully packed behind a carefully constructed wall of sarcasm and wit and muscles built from contact sport. and she'll be damned if anyone sees through it or even understands her. she's here to win. secondary.

test muses.

abigail langdon

mateo diaz

[darkrpfinders]

In 1983, the world’s governments convened and put funding towards a new, yet outlandish project. A high tech (for the time) facility was made deep in the Pacific Ocean. Codename: The Nautilus. The greatest scientific minds were called upon to begin work on a top secret experiment. Using the most advanced tech available, a series of gene editing experiments took place to produce a new species that we call a Cetus. A hybridized and mutated lifeform with a DNA base born of different undersea fauna. The outcome was to create bioweapons for war, explore new ways to advance medical research, and open new doors to gene testing. The possibilities were endless. Four Cetus embryo were successfully birthed and reached maturity. WARNING. ALL FOUR SUBJECTS HAVE BREACHED CONTAINMENT. FIND AT ALL COSTS. CIVILIANS EXPENDABLE.

Hi! I’m Glitch. I’m 25 and use she/her pronouns. I’m located in the EST, have autism and work a full time job. I also love the ocean and its diverse ecosystem; And science fiction.

Project Cetus is an idea for a novel that’s been stewing around in my head for a while, and I really wanted to write these characters to get a better grasp on them before I go head on with tackling a story like this- canons from fandoms and fellow ocs are welcome to write against my Cetus muses!

There will be many triggering themes with my muses, including PTSD, inhumane and unethical experimentation, violence and body horror, and other dark themes in that vein- so I would prefer to write with people 21+ for my comfort. I am a monster-lover, so shipping is not off the table as all my muses are adults, but I am iffy with possible nsfw themes. It will have to be discussed further if chemistry is there. You can read about my available muses on my ABOUT page. If you're interested in writing with my Cetus'- DM me or add me on discord @ chaosbirthed

Thanks and I hope to write with you soon!

chaosbirthed

[ocrpsearch]

In 1983, the world’s governments convened and put funding towards a new, yet outlandish project. A high tech (for the time) facility was made deep in the Pacific Ocean. Codename: The Nautilus. The greatest scientific minds were called upon to begin work on a top secret experiment. Using the most advanced tech available, a series of gene editing experiments took place to produce a new species that we call a Cetus. A hybridized and mutated lifeform with a DNA base born of different undersea fauna. The outcome was to create bioweapons for war, explore new ways to advance medical research, and open new doors to gene testing. The possibilities were endless. Four Cetus embryo were successfully birthed and reached maturity. WARNING. ALL FOUR SUBJECTS HAVE BREACHED CONTAINMENT. FIND AT ALL COSTS. CIVILIANS EXPENDABLE.

Hi! I’m Glitch. I’m 25 and use she/her pronouns. I’m located in the EST, have autism and work a full time job. I also love the ocean and its diverse ecosystem; And science fiction.

Project Cetus is an idea for a novel that’s been stewing around in my head for a while, and I really wanted to write these characters to get a better grasp on them before I go head on with tackling a story like this- all ocs are welcome to write against my Cetus muses!

There will be many triggering themes with my muses, including PTSD, inhumane and unethical experimentation, violence and body horror, and other dark themes in that vein- so I would prefer to write with people 21+ for my comfort. I am a monster-lover, so shipping is not off the table as all my muses are adults, but I am iffy with possible nsfw themes. It will have to be discussed further if chemistry is there. You can read about my available muses on my ABOUT page. If you're interested in writing with my Cetus'- DM me or add me on discord @ chaosbirthed

Thanks and I hope to write with you soon!

dm the user or add discord: chaosbirthed

[novella-writers]

In 1983, the world’s governments convened and put funding towards a new, yet outlandish project. A high tech (for the time) facility was made deep in the Pacific Ocean. Codename: The Nautilus. The greatest scientific minds were called upon to begin work on a top secret experiment. Using the most advanced tech available, a series of gene editing experiments took place to produce a new species that we call a Cetus. A hybridized and mutated lifeform with a DNA base born of different undersea fauna. The outcome was to create bioweapons for war, explore new ways to advance medical research, and open new doors to gene testing. The possibilities were endless. Four Cetus embryo were successfully birthed and reached maturity. WARNING. ALL FOUR SUBJECTS HAVE BREACHED CONTAINMENT. FIND AT ALL COSTS. CIVILIANS EXPENDABLE.

Hi! I’m Glitch. I’m 25 and use she/her pronouns. I’m located in the EST, have autism and work a full time job. I also love the ocean and its diverse ecosystem; And science fiction.

Project Cetus is an idea for a novel that’s been stewing around in my head for a while, and I really wanted to write these characters to get a better grasp on them before I go head on with tackling a story like this- canons from fandoms and fellow ocs are welcome to write against my Cetus muses!

There will be many triggering themes with my muses, including PTSD, inhumane and unethical experimentation, violence and body horror, and other dark themes in that vein- so I would prefer to write with people 21+ for my comfort. I am a monster-lover, so shipping is not off the table as all my muses are adults, but I am iffy with possible nsfw themes. It will have to be discussed further if chemistry is there. You can read about my available muses on my ABOUT page. If you're interested in writing with my Cetus'- DM me or add me on discord @ chaosbirthed

Thanks and I hope to write with you soon!

Like if interested!

[moseslikellamas]

Ginny Weasley and the Year of healing

Chapter 8.2

Pairing is a mystery! Its also a mess so.

Summary - Ginny makes a deal with Hermione and has a traumatic night.

Warnings - graphic depictions of violence, depictions of fear, depictions of ptsd, grief, mentions of war, depictions of anxiety.

Word count - 5.4k

This chapter will contain sensitive materials and themes.

Ginny made her way to the Astronomy tower, regretting her deal with Hermione the entire way. But Hermione had integrated her schedules and promised to add to it when Ginny started Quidditch. Unfortunately, that made her aware of every lesson she had with Nott. Which occurred twice a week, every week for the rest of the year. Ginny found that preposterous, she was good enough that she’d taken Aurors out over the summer! It had also brought to her attention that she had to cover rounds tonight. She had figured that was more of a prefect job but no, she was scheduled today and Friday. The last thing she wanted to do was traipse up and down the halls looking for students who were, assuredly, snogging.

Ginny mentally complained until she was almost to the tower. It had always felt haunted, tained in an invisible way, by Dumbledoor’s death. The dreary weather wasn’t helping with the overall vibe either, as it was only four and the sky was made dark with gathering storm clouds. All earlier signs of the sun peeking through were gone now. An eerie mist had started to form. For the first time today, the light spirit at her side roused itself. She couldn’t see what shape it was taking as she walked into the tower.

Ginny was borderline late as she walked in, but the turnout for the class was small. Only a handful of slytherins were scattered around the tower and she could only see three Gryffindor including herself. She quickly took a seat and was genuinely surprised when Firenze entered to address the class. She struggled to remember him after the battle but here he was, completely fine.

“I see not many of you have chosen to continue the discipline of star gazing. But make no mistake, it is a discipline. The last few years have been a great example of the power held within the signs in the sky. Learning to interpret these signs however…”

This seemed to be the one class Ginny wasn’t having trouble paying attention to. Firenze had a wonderful speaking voice and knew how to weave fantastical stories that still imparted the required academic information. It hardly felt like learning at all, by the end of class she had several pages of notes. She lingered after class had ended to speak with Firenze.

“Ah forgive me, Ginny? Is it? Is there something you need?”

With her bag slung over her shoulder, half way back in the room, she responded. “No. I’m just… if I’m being rude, I can just.” She was stumbling over her words trying to figure out how to word it. She had remembered him at the battle finally.

“I saw you at the battle. Your legs… how did you?”

Feeling incredibly mortified and thoroughly hoping she would fall through the floor, he laughed. A small chuckle that was barely audible but relaxed her just a tiny bit.

“Believe me, I’ve suffered worse. Tell me truly, how was the lesson?”

Ginny was stunned, still remembering the bloody ribbons that had been his legs and now trying to reconcile it with what could be considered worse. Gripping her shoulder strap, she took a deep breath.

“The lesson was honestly the best one I’ve had today. You have a great skill for weaving stories... Do you really think we can accurately gauge what the stars mean?”

Ginny asked the last question almost as an afterthought, one she hadn’t meant to voice aloud. But now that she had, she found herself anxious for the answer.

“Ask your friend Mr. Potter, if he believes in the stars.”

She nodded, confused and made her way outside. Dinner would have already started as she made her way to the great hall. But she was too curious about Harry’s answer to avoid dinner, even if it was in full swing.

She began to regret her curiosity as she walked into the great hall, it was overwhelmingly loud.

“Did you hear about Flitwick eating a dragon…”

“Oi! Shut your mouth or I’ll hex your mum…”

“Pass the pudding! Honestly, no one has any decorum these days.”

Conversation bombarded her from every side but she continued on, shoving herself in between Harry and Hermione. Even in her semi-panicked state, she noticed Ron sitting several seats away beside Seamus. Harry and Hermione had very obviously been talking about something but when she sat down, they ceased. Ginny was not ignorant to when people were plotting behind her back, living with Fred and George, you get used to it. She couldn’t bring herself to mentally amend Fred out of that equation now.

“So are we going to ignore that you two are scheming behind my back or would you like to openly acknowledge it now?” Ginny grabbed a plate and began filling it, not making eye contact with either.

“No idea what you’re on about Gin. ‘Mione and I were discussing Transfiguration.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Harry, then turned to Hermione. Who was notoriously bad at lying to Ginny, but she was already packing her things up and fleeing.

“Coward! I’ll figure it out!” She yelled at Hermione was already out the door. Then she glared at Harry who was wearing a slight smirk but trying hard to conceal it.

“Aw, come on Ginny. I’m scheming with you…”

“Agh. So you are scheming with her?”

Harry filled his mouth to avoid answering.

“Since you won’t spill the secrets on whatever that was, what about Ron? Isn’t it a bit weird, him and ‘mione?”

Harry’s expression turned thoughtful. “Nah, actually I think it's pretty smart.”

“Everyone sure seems to be turning a new leaf this year.” She grumbled.

Harry elbowed her side. “Yeah, you should try it.”

“I distinctly remember you being particularly prickly for several years.”

“True but what was it you said earlier? I’m a reformed man.”

“Yet oddly, still full of it.”

“Coming from the bastion of humbleness that really wounds me.”

“Shut it, Potter. Don’t you have someone in distress to go save?”

“What do you think this is? Charity work.”

“Haha, very funny. I’ve already done my good deed for the day. The subject of it just fled out the door to escape me.”

Harry raised a brow at her. “You’re upset Hermione and I are planning behind your back, when you’re running deals with both of us?”

Ginny felt a flush go through her at being called out. Harry was always calling her on her shit.

“Okay so I may be a hypocrite but I never claimed to be perfect.”

Harry just laughed and Ginny tried to finish her dinner in silence. Their table was speculating on who might’ve pulled the prank last night. Most of the suspected culprits were from Ravenclaw, a few from Slytherin. But Dean kept looking directly at Ginny. There was no way he knew it was her, but at every new accusation he would cast his gaze at her. She knew if she left right now, she’d just confirm his theory.

“Harry, who do you think it was? I bet it was a snake, you’re all giving the birds too much credit. They’d probably charm everyone’s grades or something.”

Ravenclaw rarely engaged in pranks, they had a tendency to take it too far. Engineering elaborate pranks that led to a level of chaos that was unhinged. If they did a prank, there’d be no doubt about who did it.

“I dunno Gin, it was pretty elaborate. You think Slytherin would have that kind of creativity?”

The conversation kept on without her intervention again, but Dean never looked convinced. That could be a problem. Ginny had spoken to Dean sparingly during the year following the battle at Hogwarts, but enough for them to be considered closer to friends rather than just exes. Ginny had put her foot down and insisted on being in the Order’s meetings after the battle. But it was Dean who would sneak her more information on the side. Dean had also been her dueling partner when she was hit with the curse that disfigured her.

It made being around him comfortable but hard. His presence was reassuring and a glaring reminder of something she could never forget. Dean, like her face, was a reminder of the worst times. Ginny sat awash in memories, beginning to struggle again with what was happening now and what had happened in the past.

Not bothering to excuse herself, she grabbed her bag and all but ran out of the Great hall. Donning her invisibility cloak, Ginny ran. And as she did, she remembered.

***

Wind nipped around Ginny as she crouched in the darkness. The tip of her nose was freezing and she fought the urge to cast another warming spell. Ginny was on post in Russia, near the notorious school which supposedly didn’t exist. Koldovstoretz, was indeed real and Death Eaters had been popping up in worrying amounts lately. The school, as Ginny understood, was renowned for its potion work. The Order didn’t take well to the news of Death Eater recruitment here for obvious reasons.

There were five of them on post here, including herself. Ginny had fought bitterly with her mother to get this post. She’d threatened to start doing raids if they didn’t let her and that was how she ended up freezing to death in the Russian darkness. Ginny was not convinced the school hadn’t bewitched the very air around them to be darker than usual, it was truly pitch black without any moon light to guide them. The cold amplified every sound as well, snow crunching beneath them even with silencing charms.

The other four on this assignment were Dean Thomas, Lee Jordan, her brother Charlie and Luna. It was an odd grouping and considering Charlie was the only experienced dueler, not an important one. Ginny didn’t mind though, she’d partnered with both Luna and Dean before. And of course, being around Charlie was never a negative. He hadn’t complained about getting stuck with a bunch of barely of age wizards even once. All of them had officially joined the Order after the battle at Hogwarts. That had been another fight with her mother but Ginny was used to arguing to get her way.

They’d been crouching outside for hours, waiting on the off hand chance Death Eaters would show up. They had been rotating locations for three days but so far, nothing. Not even a tiny sign that anything was amiss. Everyone was growing restless, they couldn’t talk or move too much in these conditions. She swore the night grew even darker around them. Ginny’s knees were beginning to scream at her from holding this position for hours, hiding in a mountain cleft. She had a great view of the open plain in front of them, and even in the darkness she could see the snow steadily falling. It was almost peaceful, if not for the line of tension she could feel running through them.

Ginny strained her eyes, looking for any signs of invisibility cloaking or as the Death Eaters preferred today, darkness warping. That’s when it clicked for her. She sprung forward to warn Dean, who was two feet away from her, but the darkness came to life wrapping around her pulling her down. Things exploded from there. Spells started flying, it seemed Ginny was the only one stupid enough to get wrapped up from behind. She couldn’t see anything while she was wrestling with the darkness, it hadn’t assumed its fully formed shape. It was like wrestling with a heavy sheet, it covered her completely. She finally managed to pull her wand free and started muttering spells. The first of which was a strong wind current that blessedly helped free her face.

That proved to show her nothing really, as the night was still unnaturally dark. But she caught a glimpse of Charlie wrestling with his own blobless mass of darkness, this was a new tactic it seemed. She didn’t see anything else before the darkness wrapped around her wrist and tugged painfully hard. More annoyed that it was impeding her view than the fact that she was fighting for her life, she cast a spell Luna had come up with. It sent an electric current through the darkness, lighting it up. The tendrils dropped from her and Ginny rolled out of the way. She shot an imbolizing curse behind her, hoping the darkness she’d hit had been the one she intended.

Below her, everyone was struggling. Luna had seemingly eliminated her opponent based on the person sized lump Ginny spotted beside her. Luna was assisting Lee, which reminded her of her own partner. She spotted Dean a few feet away, his arms wrapped up in darkness. She made it three steps before something wrapped around her ankle and jerked her down.

“Bloody-, stupefy!”

When the spell had no effect, Ginny just started throwing everything she could think of.

“Confringo. Incarcerous. Ah, Expulso.”

The last spell finally blasted the dark shape away from her, she could barely make it out around the rest of the night. Wasting no time, she made her way to Dean.

“Expulso!” She cast, hoping it would work as well with Dean’s opponent. It did, briefly.

“Ginny, look out!” Dean called half a second too late, the form which had now revealed itself knocked her into a rock face.

Ginny lay there dazed, she could hear Dean screaming and distantly Charlie as well. The darkness swam in and out of her vision. Hesitantly she cast a healing spell on her bleeding head and stood up. The world spun briefly but Ginny had already started to curse the Death Eater fighting Dean from behind. She didn’t bother with low level curses, she uttered the strongest Bombarda she could and the man ceased to be.

Ginny and Dean stood for half a second, covered in blood staring at each other. Dean had almost smiled at her and she heard Lee whoop from below. She’d turned back to assess the spot she had come from, when the darkness rose back up. She hadn’t eliminated her own target after all.

It wrenched her up, causing Ginny to drop her wand in the commotion. Dean was still several feet away from her but he’d already begun throwing curses of his own. Ginny was wrapped up tightly faster than the first time it had grabbed her. It was moving too, presumably away from the barrage of spells being sent its way. She struggled contorting her body to free herself, desperately trying to do wandless magic. It was useless though and the panic began to set in.

Twisted up, cocooned in the writhing darkness Ginny kept trying. Come on, come on. Ginny think! What spell could she do in her sleep? A hand materialized through the darkness, though she couldn’t see it. She could feel it and fought relentlessly. A shockwave went through the two of them, the rest of the group must have joined Dean. The mass grew frantic, wrapping tighter and tighter. As the tip of a blade touched her skin, Ginny thought of the happiest she’d ever been.

Alone with Harry, out by the lake her fifth year. Before the war had spoiled her life. When her greatest gripe had been quidditch practice and finding time to snog her boyfriend. As unimaginable pain began to hit her bloodstream, Ginny conjured a wandless patronus. It burst so violently through her, the darkness practically evaporated.

Ginny hadn’t realized how high in the air they’d been until she began to fall. Her patronus had lingered for a moment slowing her momentum but she was still flying. The agony overtaking her face was of more concern to her as she began screaming in pain. She was unconscious before she could hit the ground.

***

When Ginny came back to herself, she had no idea where she was. She didn’t know if she had ever been to this part of the castle. The walls didn’t look familiar, they were blurring back and forth. She shook her head, stumbling into what she thought was the wall and instead hit the floor when the wall moved. Was she at Hogwarts? Or was she still at Koldovstoretz? Her face was burning, it was burning so bad. She lay on the floor, placing her inflamed cheek against the cold stones.

The walls continued to move, shifting between here and there, now and then.

“She was cut with a cursed blade.”

“She’s fine, wake her up.”

“It’s her decision!”

Voices from the past swirled around her as she lay there.

“I stopped the fall. We all had a responsibility!”

“Don’t talk to ME about responsibility.”

The conversation was so present Ginny was sure that must be now. That’s why her face burned so badly, she’d been attacked. Feeling concerned about her safety she wobbled to her knees and then her feet. Leaning against an actual wall she tried to reorient herself. The walls around her firmed up but it wasn’t Hogwarts.

***

Ginny woke to voices around her, but she couldn’t make any of the words out. Her tongue was thick in her mouth and she could only see out of one eye. When she sat up, the room went silent. Dean looked angry and was breathing heavily. Charlie was at the foot of her bed looking equally upset.

“Hello Ginny. How are you feeling?” Luna asked from Ginny’s side, resting her hand on Ginny’s arm.

Ginny struggled to talk and gladly took the water Luna offered her from the bedside table.

“My face…” Her voice came out rough and gravely. She drank some more and tried again.

“My face is burning.”

It didn’t feel like it was melting off her skin anymore but it still burned. Like a hot poker was held against her cheek, it was more than uncomfortable.

“Ginny. Ginny, I’m so sorry.” Dean said without looking at her. He left before she could defend him. It had been her fault, for assuming she’d gotten rid of the death eater.

“Did you get him?”

“Get who?” Charlie asked, he looked like he’d been crying.

“The last one, as I fell I thought…” Ginny frowned, the mass had definitely dissolved around her.

“We didn’t see anything Ginny. Not until.” He clipped the sentence off abruptly before he, too, fled the room.

“Not until you fell.” Luna supplied once they were the only ones left. Lee hadn’t been in the room when she woke up.

“We thought you were dead.”

Ginny was suddenly very glad Luna was here. “What happened? From your perspective at least.”

Luna hummed softly while she rubbed Ginny’s arm.

“We had just finished helping Charlie. His opponent got away unfortunately. I heard Dean screaming though, and ran to help him. You were already gone, shot straight through the clouds. It was quite impressive magic, I wonder how they’re doing it. I knew you were up there, I’d have known if you disapperated.”

Ginny was slightly more puzzled after hearing Luna’s account but that was par for the course for Luna. Something was nagging at her though, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Luna? Who's that man over there?”

The walls around her were looking fuzzy. “Luna?”

Where Luna had been sitting was now just a dark corner, the bed beneath her gone as well. The man however remained. Ginny stumbled, not remembering standing but unequivocally sure she should get away from the looming figure that was gaining on her. It was the death eater, he’d come back to finish her off. Ginny was picking up speed now and she could hear the person behind her break into a run as well. The walls were solid now but sure enough the darkness was creeping up on her. Just moments away from wrapping her up and finishing what it started.

Ginny rounded a corner while looking behind her, ready to throw a curse if she needed - . She ran headfirst into a wall. The force of which sent her back to the floor. Was that her second or third head injury of the night? Where was she? Shaking her head vigorously Ginny tried to remember. That’s when the darkness got its break. She felt it wrap around her shoulder and she threw her head back full force.

Knocking into something hard, She tried to spin around to stand but only fell over, tripping over the mass behind her.

“Bloody hell, will you stop.., You’re worse than Pansy! Incarcerous.”

Ginny’s writhing was cut off immediately by the ropes that appeared around her. This did nothing to calm her but gagged and bound there wasn’t much to be done about it. She focused on calming her breathing and on figuring out who was in front of her.

“- been looking for you for ages! And you try to kill me? Gryffindors, typical. Are you calm now?”

Ginny gazed up her eyes focusing on the green accented robes and tie until she found the face of a very annoyed Nott staring back at her. She nodded once and felt the ropes slip away. Ginny gingerly sat up, the back of her head was throbbing and the front didn’t feel very well either. Nott’s face was coated in blood though, so it could be worse. He was still lecturing her, she could tell by how fast his lips were moving. But Ginny was watching the blood drip off of his chin onto his starched white shirt.

“Nott?” She said, still mildly confused.

“Have you been listening at all? Where have you been? You missed all of the rounds, none of your housemates knew where you were!”

“What? Rounds…” Ginny struggled to remember where she had been. What did I do today? Ginny started with the morning, this morning she had been… She looked up at Nott. I was with Nott this morning and Neville. The day slowly came back to her and she was steadily growing more horrified.

“Alright, we’re going to the hospital wing.”

Ginny became even more lucid at the mention of telling Madame Pomfrey she was losing her mind. That wasn’t going to happen. Instead she stood, only swaying slightly.

“No. No, we are not going to the hospital wing. I’m just going to-“

Ginny stumbled as she tried to walk away, her head was killing her. Nott caught her before she hit the ground again.

“Ginevra I am not letting you go back to your dorm room alone in this condition. You just tried to hex my head off, probably gave yourself a concussion and you've been missing for four hours.”

Four hours? Has it been that long since she left dinner? Surely not, and where was her cloak? Looking around Ginny saw it was tied to her bag, which she still wore across her shoulder. If she could slip it on unnoticed, she could lose Nott and go back to her room in peace.

The blood was still dripping down his face, Ginny decided to get rid of it. “Tergeo.” The blood was siphoned off of Nott’s face only to be replaced by more. “Episkey. Tergeo.” Satisfied when no more blood leaked out, she made eye contact with him again. She’d already forgotten whatever he’d said. He was looking at her dumbfounded.

“Ginny, we’re going to the hospital wing.”

“Oh that’s what you said. No, thanks though.” She was fully intending to walk away, though still unsure of how to get out of here.

“Do you know where we are?” She asked him absentmindedly, looking around. Ginny was sure she hadn’t been here before but it must be Hogwarts. Or else why was Nott badgering her? Then again, she had just been talking to Luna. Ginny frowned, had she been talking to Luna, though? She was at Hogwarts not Koldovstoretz.

This time Nott didn’t answer, just wrapped his hand around Ginny’s wrist and started dragging her along. This was a horrible idea as Ginny’s balance was still lost to the wind and she tripped every third step.

“I’m not going to the hospital wing, Nott.” She said, trying to tear his hand away from her, having forgotten about her wand at that moment.

“I’m not taking you to the hospital wing okay? But you can’t go back to your dorm.”

Ginny stopped struggling then, satisfied that she wouldn’t have to confess that she had gone mad. Nott seemed to know exactly where they were as he wound them back the way she came. It became clear to her the further they traveled that they were in the dungeons. She hadn’t known they went back that far. Nott stopped at a stretch of wall that looked exactly like the rest and murmured what she imagined was the Slytherin password.

Nott pushed her inside the doorway that formed and Ginny got her first look at the new Slytherin common room. A spiral staircase dominated the immediate view, but it paled in comparison to the giant green snake that slithered around the air above the stairs. It slithered around various glowing green orbs and Ginny was awestruck. It was obviously made of magic but she had never seen anything like it. The closest she could think of was a spell Luna knew. She could imitate the night sky, project it around the room. But she couldn’t manipulate it. This was far more enchanting.

Nott didn’t take her up the stairs where the snake wandered. He led her to the right where another spiral staircase led underneath the ground to the floor below. So, not so different from Gryffindor’s new tower. Just more pretentious. Ginny struggled with the staircase, the stairs seemed to multiply randomly and against her will. After several breaks and several more heavy sighs from Nott they made it to the common room.

Nott however pulled her into a room before she could admire it. The room he pulled her into was cozy, decked out in green and silver. It was several times fancier than her room which was outrageous and again made her wonder how much the ministry had doled out to repair Hogwarts. Still firmly grasping her wrist, he conjured another bed and pushed Ginny on to it.

“Now, I won’t drag you to the hospital wing. If you can answer my questions to my satisfaction.”

“I really don’t think that’s -“

“Necessary?” He said cutting her off. “Because what I think wasn’t necessary, was me looking for you for over two hours!”

He paced in front of her, aggravated.

“So, either you tell me or I will personally alert Madame Pomfrey that we are on our way.”

Ginny sighed dramatically, still pretending it was no big deal at all.

“I don’t know, okay? I remember leaving dinner and then…” Leaving the thought hanging in the air, she looked anywhere except at the other occupant of the room. His desk was empty, come to think of it, most of his room was devoid of personal items. Her face burned mildly and she gripped her legs.

“Ginny.” His voice was softer this time and she managed to look at him again. As her eyes connected with his she heard, “Legilimens.” And she was once again falling back through her memories.

It was impossible for Ginny to fend him off in her already weakened state, so she didn’t try to. She just sat back and watched herself flee from the great hall. First she went up the stairs, still under the cloak. It wasn’t until she entered a secret corridor on the fourth floor that she had pulled the cloak off. It was unnerving to watch herself do something she couldn’t remember. Ginny had followed the secret passage to its end, which was how she made it to the dungeons. She was focusing on only paying attention to her physical journey while Nott was watching one of the worst moments of her life in full vivid detail.

Before long Nott caught up with the present and pulled his way out of her mind. They were both panting from the magical exertion.

“Satisfied snake?” Ginny was trembling, cradling her head in her hands. Blinding pain was now radiating through her skull. She could hear him shuffling something around as she did.

“Take this.” Gently he pried her hands away from her head, handing her a small vial. She knocked it back, wincing at the motion. Upon swallowing the pain immediately dulled, enough for her to be angry at the gross violation he’d just committed.

“What the fuck? You can’t just invade someone’s mind!”

Nott straightened up, looking haughtily down at her.

“You were in mental distress, Ginevra. As a concerned Head boy it was my responsibility to ensure your care. I can’t do that if I don’t know what happened. You were incapable of telling me and I feel confident McGonagall would agree with me. Would you like to take it up with the headmistress?”

Her blood was boiling, he had her hands tied and knew it. She wouldn’t dream of telling McGonagall and he knew that after her insistence that they not even tell Pomfrey.

“It was still wrong. You really should-“

As per his new developing habit, he cut her off.

“You should send a message to your friends who are probably freaking out.”

She huffed but pulled her journal out of her bag and flipped to the section that included the trio.

I’m fine. With Nott, finished rounds. Talk tomorrow - G.

She snapped it closed without waiting for a reply. She could deal with that fallout tomorrow.

“As I was saying-“

“Nothing. I want to hear nothing else from you and I mean it.”

She scoffed, taken aback. But chose to remain silent, her remaining willpower to stay awake was waning. Nott kept pacing before he stopped suddenly and sent her a glare.

“I need to go handle something quickly. You, stay put.”

Ginny didn’t dignify that with a response. She just waited patiently for him to leave so she could slip the cloak on and get out of here. Throwing her one last look, he left. She was on her feet the second the door clicked shut. Untying the cloak from her bag swiftly she donned it and made her way to the door. Grabbing the handle, she found it wouldn’t twist. Rolling her eyes at Nott’s audacity she tried a few unlocking spells but none of them were working.

Switching up her method she tried to disassemble the door, instead it shocked her. Irritated, she threw the cloak off and stowed it back in her bag. She then started hexing the door. It was a door after all, she wouldn’t be conquered by a door.

***

Fifteen minutes and three shocks later, Ginny was defeated by the door. The last shock had been strong enough to knock her off her feet and she had thrown the towel in after that.

“What kind of magical wards are the Slytherins using?” She had yelled at the door as she dragged her body off the ground and back onto the conjured bed. Ginny had defeated dozens of death eaters but couldn’t find a way to bust down a dorm door. It just didn’t make any sense at all. Laying there contemplating ways to make Nott’s life a little bit more miserable she began to drift off to sleep.

The click of the door opening brought her back from the brink of sleep, barely she managed to sit back up.

“Did you fall asleep?” The room had grown darker since she dozed off and she struggled to make his form out in the low light.

“Barely. What kind of forsaken wards are you using on the door?”

A moment of silence passed between them.

“How long did you try?” The snicker in his reply was barely concealed.

“Long enough to know you’ve got issues. Seriously, what did you use?”

“Go to sleep, Ginevra.”

He made his way over to his bed and Ginny could make out that he had changed in the time he’d been gone.

“You expect me to stay here?” She didn’t really think she could make her way back to Gryffindor tower at this point. She was just being difficult.

“You might have a concussion. I’m going to have to wake you up every couple of hours since you won’t let Pomfrey do it.”

Ginny remained quiet after his reply, clamping her mouth shut. She didn’t want to spiral into conspiracy about Nott’s motives. Instead she lay back down and fell into exhaustion.