#alternatively they survive and the village is founded

[lgcllyanx]

soulmate au where any harm or damage one person takes, their soulmate takes the exact same

tobirama and izuna do not notice, as they injure each other so often it's difficult to notice if one of their wounds wasn't inflicted on them. they don't get hurt often enough outside of battle to realize, either, and have no general desire to find their soulmate

until tobirama perfects the flying raijin and uses it on izuna. for a moment he thinks it's malfunctioned, and he's somehow managed to stab himself with the fatal blow. then he turns, sees izuna on the ground. it is a terrifying, harrowing realization, and izuna sees him and knows. they spend their final days in separate compounds with the same wound knowing that they truly could not live one without the other

[gingernut1314]

Fell First, Fell Harder

Summary: Luffy fell first and harder

Content: fell first, fell harder trope, alternate versions, some death, lots of fluffy love, kinda like a choose your own ending

Word Count: 870+

A/N: This was 1) inspired by the fell first fell harder trend cause I was thinking Luffy would do well as both and 2) it's inspired by this short story I read for one of my classes called "Happy Endings" by Margaret Atwood (it's very fun), which is where I got the idea for the different versions of the story! I hope you all enjoy!

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Luffy fell first and he fell harder. 

No matter the circumstances.

A.

At a single glance, Luffy fell for you and you fell just as fast. He’s gravitating towards you just as you gravitate towards him. There hardly needs to be a single word spoken between you two past a simple greeting because you two just know. It’s as if your very souls know--as if they’d been calling out for each other your whole lives. Two sides of the same coin is what you two are. 

He helps your island. You help his crew. He asks you to join his crew and you agree before he can even finish the question. 

Where one is found, the other is right there too. There is rarely anywhere you two go alone. Many a crew member have commented “if they could crawl into each other's skin, they would have a long time ago.” 

You fall harder and harder for each other the longer and longer you two are together. You’ll follow him wherever he goes, just as he will follow you and you both will do so till you are old and gray and wrinkled. You two will follow each other into death’s embrace and live together forever in whatever sunny afterlife awaits you. 

B.

Luffy saw you, working for the enemy, yet still fell. He could see your pain--your struggle for survival and wants to help. 

You don’t. You see him as a thorn in your side. Someone in the way of your plans. You don’t want or need his help. You joined your Captain's crew for a reason and no amount of love Luffy gives you is going to change that. 

Luffy can’t get you out of his head and he can’t help but keep falling harder for you. Not when you stand for the same things he stands for, no matter how you choose to go about it. 

Fighting occurs. The Straw Hats win. You are left beaten and bruised and, even when you fought against his family--when you tried to kill them--he extends a hand out for you. He wants you to take it so badly. Wants you to be free with him and yet you spit at his feet. You can’t fathom why he would offer you any amount of love.

He offers you the freedom you’ve been craving so easily. You hate it. You reject it. 

You limp away, never once turning back to look at him.

Luffy understands, no matter his disappointment, and walks away too.

He believes you’ll meet again and when the time comes, he’ll offer his hand for you to take once more. 

C.

Luffy falls for you the moment you give him an extra loaf of bread he didn’t have the berri to afford. You gave it to him because of his smile and warmth--things he wants to keep sharing with you as long as you will let him.

Luffy saves you from a band of bandits raiding your bakery and you fall for him hard. You keep falling for him over and over again the longer you follow him across the Grand Line. 

You two spend day after day together. Neither one of you ever wants to let go of the other. You two are happy and oh so carefree within each other's arms. 

The Straw Hats face off against an unforgiving foe. It’s a hard battle. The crew can hardly find the strength to keep on fighting, not when their bodies are beaten beyond repair. 

You’re injured too. Bad.

Luffy sees this and defeats the big bad at just the last minute.

Chopper can’t get to you in time.

Luffy loves you even when you are no longer in this world with him. He’ll love you till the day he leaves it too. 

D.

You’re a part of the enemy's crew and yet Luffy falls for you the moment you shed a tear for the village your boss has just destroyed. 

Luffy wants to save you. You want him to save you too. 

You help Luffy even when you know doing so has put a target on your back. Though, with your extra help, Luffy and his crew defeat your former one. He asks you to join him--to sail around the world and help whoever you wish to help. You join him with hardly a second thought and do just that. 

Everyday Luffy is around you, the more you two talk and laugh with each other, harder and harder he falls. You fall right back and you fall hard because he has become your best friend. 

You follow him throughout his journey and he helps you learn to love yourself despite all the bad from your past.

E. 

You believe you’ve fallen first for Luffy and are stuck in a constant battle against your own emotions because you believe Luffy has only ever viewed you as a friend--a fellow crewmate. 

Luffy believes you two have been together ever since you joined his crew--has loved you since then. Nami even told him this--that you liked him and he thought that was that. He loves you and you love him, therefore you were his. 

Robin tells you this one day and you only fall harder for him.

[corellianhounds]

The reason Mando does so many “side quests” is because he’s poor. He has to work for everything. He lives a self-sufficient life on the road bringing money back to his tribe to support them because Mandalorians aren’t safe and can only show their faces in town one at a time or they’re perceived as a danger because of how they look and what reputation is attributed to that appearance by many people. Almost every single episode has somebody picking a fight with Mando over the armor when he’s literally just standing there. He has to fight, scrap, save, barter, trade, and work for every single thing he has because the alternative is dying, or people he cares about dying. It doesn’t matter if it’s because they’re attacked or because they literally don’t have the money to eat, most of the Mandalorians we’ve seen live hand to mouth day by day, surviving out of sheer willpower and working together

Season 1 Episode 2: His only means of transportation (/place of living) is scavenged for parts and stolen in pieces. He’s forced to negotiate with the ones who took his stuff and do a job for them so he can get it all back before then having to rebuild the ship (when he shouldn’t have to trade anything for it to begin with)

Season 1 Episode 4: He wants somewhere safe and unassuming he can lay low with the kid and agrees to scare off some local bandits so he can have lodging. His original long term plan was to stay on Sorgan for a few months— He’s willing to fight the bandits and the Walker because that village was where he was given somewhere to eat and sleep and because he had intended to live there long term

Season 1 Episode 5: The hunter that found them on Sorgan forces him to acknowledge he’s not allowed to remain sedentary. He tries to go back to his old job, working as a bounty hunter for money; he and the kid can live on the ship, though it isn’t ideal, but he needs food, fuel, and immediate ship repairs. The betrayal of the gunslinger and confirmation from a target that word of him breaking the Guild Code has reached the literal farthest reaches of the Outer Rim solidifies that he can’t be a legitimate hunter anymore and that people who recognize him or the kid (or recognize them because they’re together) will be gunning for the reward, leading to—

Season 1 Episode 6: Mando going back to the only other life and means of making money he’s known, working shady jobs with criminals in the hope of receiving payment. The job proves even more unpredictable and dangerous than the last one and puts him back at square one again.

Season 2 Episode 1: Mando is a well-rounded character who’s been given an objective outside of just surviving to the next day. He only ends up in Mos Pelgo because he needs information, and he only agrees to fight the Krayt dragon because— as a well-rounded character— he’s promised culturally important relics of his people that he holds in the highest respect. The armor of a dead Mandalorian being given the proper respect (showing the honor he has for his people) is shown to be tied in importance with the kid. At least he’s given some food for the road because it’s clear he wasn’t being paid any money in addition to it.

Season 2 Episode 2: Chasing the barest lead on information about other Mandalorians forces him to take the dangerous passage he does; he only ends up having to survive the ice planet because of the threat of incarceration if he didn’t run. He’s not being paid in money here either AND his ship is literally barely holding together. If it was a horse he’d have to shoot it.

Season 2 Episode 3: Bo-Katan is his last lead on information about a Jedi. The child needs a Jedi teacher so he’ll be safe. By this point Mando is desperate and BKK forces him to do a dangerous job in exchange for information. He’s not getting any money this season because all of the jobs he does are in exchange for information and it’s a lot easier to manipulate and force people who need a favor from you to do whatever you tell them because you have something more specific than money they can’t get anywhere else. He doesn’t have enough money to cover a good fix of the Crest but doesn’t have anything to leverage against the mechanic who did a partial job for all the money he did have left, meaning—

Season 2 Episode 4: He has to call in a favor from a friend. Karga’s willing to cover his fuel, repairs, and docking fees, but oh Mando while you’re here I have this pesky Imperial infestation and since it’ll take a while for your ship to be repaired and you’re not busy…

Season 2 Episode 5: Now he’s finally found a Jedi. Now he may finally be able to give the kid to somebody who can protect him and teach him how to protect himself. Now the kid may finally be able to live a long, safe life, even if it means it can’t be with him. Oh right except this Jedi says she isn’t really a Jedi anymore, and also she’s kind of busy, but maybe she’ll think about it if you help her do her own thing in liberating a town—

Only for Ahsoka to then go back on her deal because she has her own thing going on. Considering how important the whole Thrawn mission is shown to be later, I’m not all that convinced she was ever going to take the kid as an apprentice. She may have been on the fence and maybe considered doing it if Elsbeth didn’t give any information up, but if the whole Ahsoka show was about her search for Thrawn, it’s obvious she has a lot more involvement in that than she’d be able to afford if she took the kid as her ward. The idea that the kid’s too attached to Mando for her to take him as a student seems like a pretty convenient excuse considering she knows this guy has zero clue about anything to do with the Jedi. It doesn’t matter if she’s right or not, she could have been upfront about having more pressing matters she was devoted to so he would have the option of not wasting his time there or doing a job for Ahsoka he wouldn’t be receiving payment or an exchange from.

And then the rest of season 2 is the bigger plot. Episodes 1, 3, 7, and 8 of Season 1 were the overarching plot.

Mando has to live life on the road in a dangerous and unpredictable galaxy doing dangerous and unpredictable jobs. He’s poor. He’s a survivalist. He’s desperate. He makes friends because interpersonal ties are often the only other form of currency he has, and those ties still often come with requests for favors or work in exchange for what they can do for him. Hardly anybody is giving him anything, and even when they do, he still feels obligated to pay them back.

[the-artist-grimm]

Hi, I have just discovered your AU and I like the design, also the name made curious about what's the AU about

(Note this Lore Post is HIGHLY Outdated!!!! See the masterpost for current lore!)

Thank you! And for the ‘Crimson Angel AU’ think of it as translating to ‘Blood-Soaked Angel AU’, since I think that’s more of a better visual/description, but crimson just sounds prettier for an actual title.  This is gonna be a little long for more-in-depth lore dump so see the READ MORE for well, more! And my apologies for the rambles that have slowly taken over my brain, it's a little chaotic but the basic gist of it XD

(Note Anthea goes by she/they and I alternate between the two so if that causes reading issues let me know)

In this case, the ‘Blood-Soaked Angel’ is my lamb, Anthea, who starts off the story as being a seemingly kind, friendly, and optimistic person just wanting to help, but is really just someone who is trying to understand why they lived when their family and people did not, and just going with self-sacrifice and self-destruction as the only way to ‘prove’ they deserved to live. 

Got a mini backstory comic here with some explanations, though TLDR Anthea already had this sense of being responsible for keeping everyone else’s spirits up after losing their father, and when heretics destroyed the rest of their family/village at age 12 and they survived by the shear luck of just being out on a routine supply run, they feel as if they don’t deserve it. 

From there Anthea bottled everything up and wandered the forests for a bit until being found and taken in by Ratau, who taught her not only how to fight but also told her stories of his time as vessel, of which any involving The One Who Waits were the most interesting. A lonely, bitter, and kinda angry god of death, despite  his appearance, kept and appeared to care for the two young kits by his side. TOWW sounded different from the other bishops Anthea had only ever known to be violent, and thus she began to worship him as a sort of comfort-since thinking a gentler god greeted her family and would one day greet her was a better thought than the horror they must’ve faced prior to death. She lived day to day just pretending everything was fine, being a good kid, and helping out around the shack, while internally treating every moment like borrowed time, thinking she had to keep being useful to everyone else. (Ratau knew she had people-pleasing issues but didn’t realize the extent for a long, long time) 

Cut to Anthea being 26, and after she and Ratau were heading back one afternoon after some errand or visit were ambushed by heretics who managed to injure Ratau when they tried to escape, and though they got away, they were pursued. Thinking she’d lived on borrowed time long enough and wanting to prevent another person she loved from dying, Anthea took advantage of Ratau’s injury keeping him from stopping her and drew the heretics away, being captured as a result. 

Bishops, execution, Anthea gets the shock of hearing that they’re the final lamb prior to sacrifice, then suddenly they’re waking up in the gateway to the god they’ve worshiped for years, and he’s just as Ratau described. A lonely, bitter god with two young kits (I place Aym and Baal as teens since it leads to some interesting moments), by his side. Yet where that’s all Ratau saw, Anthea also saw the chains. The wounds bleeding an endless stream of ichor. The way TOWW struggled prior to their approach, how his voice and smile were strained. This god they’d built up as this better to the bishops is trapped and painfully so, and when offered the chance to help him, Anthea jumps at it. They must’ve lived for SOMETHING, must be the last for some greater purpose because there were so many other lambs who ‘deserved’ to live more, so if it’s for this prophecy then so be it. 

Game plays out, Anthea begins to see past the bitterness/anger Nariender puts up to see someone genuinely hurt by those he cared about and struggling to trust after while also seeing he’s not exactly perfect, whilst Nariender in turn starts to call Anthea out on the whole self-sacrificial stick as them just trying to die to make themself feel better instead of just facing the fact that they lived, others died, and that’s all there is to say. Slowly the two become friends, got an idea for example that Anthea starts to use the crown to show Nariender what he’s missed in the world as a means of comforting him/helping him remember not all was as bad as he recalls (aka they’re unintentional dates lol), Anthea also starts befriending the twins since they remind them of their own brothers which gains more Nariender friendship points at someone making his kids happy, and that friendship slowly turns to a genuine love from both sides. 

Anthea plans to keep her feelings hidden until after Narinder’s free, though secretly starts to work on an engagement present to confess by leaving the crown at the temple and going to the Lonely Shack at night. (the engagement also meant to be a symbolic ‘hey you don’t have to feel the same but just know I’ll be with you from now on I won’t leave you’). Is also Anthea finally taking steps to live life for herself and move on to something that makes her happy. Meanwhile Narinder has no idea what these feelings he’s having are-just that this weirdly kind, cheerful, but also melancholic and frustratingly self-sacrificial lamb makes his heart race, and is now for some reason being a little distant. He’s been trying to figure out how to return to the world above without sacrificing Anthea, but now has whatever this is distracting him, and thus has the crown follow one night, only hears part of Anthea discussing/being teased about planning a proposal but not who said proposal is for, and being unused to jealousy but very used to being cast aside and betrayed gets angry/scared/heartbroken and decides to just go through with the sacrifice anyway since it’s easier than trying to figure out why he’s feeling like this. 

Endgame battle hits, during which Anthea feels very confused/hurt by his order to sacrifice themself, as just the other day here was their dearest friend lightly scolding them for willingly dying just to visit. They try to reason with him and Narinder doesn’t want to hear it, so he orders the twins to fight Anthea which neither are willing but are forced, and Anthea has no choice but to kill both since Nariender refuses to hear reason. The anger, grief, guilt, and heartbreak they’ve bottled up finally boils over as red wings appear on their back like they briefly do in-game when the lamb refuses (this all started when I saw the scene in-game and thought the visual/symbolism was really cool), and they fight and defeat Nariender. 

When back at the compound Nariender’s just lashing out and cursing Anthea on the dais because he’s angry and hurt at her betraying him until Anthea just calmly tells him why he was spared-she loved him. Nariender finally looks at her and is hit with the realization that this lamb who’d always looked at him so warmly with adoration is now giving him the most blank, lifeless expression as she tells him he’s free to do as he pleases before leaving. And he now realizes that because he didn’t stop and think things through and instead let anger take the focus he completely neglected to realize that here was someone who loved him-who loved him even as they learned of his faults, saw his lowest, ect, and he just threw it all away over a misunderstanding he could've EASILY just asked about. He even sacrificed his guards (read sons) just because that was somehow easier than talking. Which begs the question, who else loved him? Who else did he miss? Was his imprisonment really all on the bishops, or was he also to blame? Whilst Anthea’s now stuck with a godhood she didn’t want, two more loved ones dead, and a broken heart. 

The two gotta learn where to go from here, the now blood-soaked ‘angel’ who’s begun to realize just how much giving pieces of yourself hurts, and a fallen god who’s begun to realize things aren’t as black and white as he thought. They get better! Eventually...

Might try making a fic, might just keep this as drabbles and rambles along with art, but right now I’m having fun making fanart/aus for the first time instead of just watching from the sidelines, so I hope you enjoy the ride. But for now enjoy some angsty doodles :D

[karan-koron]

Genazo script cheat sheet

I translated Gegege no Nazo to English, and so I spent the last two days knee-deep into the movie script! It was very interesting, and it made me feel sympathy for fansubbers of Yore who would put long translation notes covering the entire screen... I was strong, but not strong enough to put sticky notes all over my personal copy though, so here's a collection of notes and observations from Genazo's script, somewhat following the movie chronologically. I will try to keep each item short.

I hope it helps you take a deeper look into this story!

Of course, this will contain spoilers.

It's...

Nagura village's name Naguramura, or Nagura Village, is 哭倉村. 哭 "naku" means crying, sobbing, wailing. 倉 "kura" is commonly found in place names, for example like in the city of Kamakura. It means a storehouse, a warehouse. 村 "mura" is village. "Naguramura" is "the village that houses cries."

Ryuga's name Ryuga is spelled 龍賀. 龍 "ryuu" means "dragon". 賀 "ka" means celebration. You find it for example on nengajo, greeting cards for the New Year, in the expression "賀正", "Happy New Year". It gives off the impression of a very noble and auspicious name.

"Let's pray for a safe return this time..." From the exchange between the president and the manager of the Blood Bank, implying that before Mizuki others were sent to Nagura Village.

Train to Nagura Village It has Gegero's very first line, and I wasn't sure how to translate it. "おぬし 死相が出ておるぞ" "onushi, shisou ga dete oru zo" "You have one foot in the grave." I initially hesitated putting in : "The shadow of death looms over you." But I went for the former. I take no credit for this translation : the trailers for the screenings in Hong Kong were subbed, and this line appears in the trailer so I played it safe and just reused it. Indeed, the shadow of death follows Mizuki : the silhouettes appearing behind him are all wearing military uniforms.

Gyokusai On the way to Nagura Village, Mizuki reminisces a dialogue from his superiors during the war : "Since they've already announced their will to fight to death, it would look bad if they were still alive." The original text says that the soldiers announced their "gyokusai", or their "honorable suicide". It evokes the idea that being made prisoner or coming back in defeat was an humiliation so great that dying was the most honorable alternative. So indeed, in the eyes of the army, Mizuki and his fellow soldiers surviving after announcing their will to die in battle "looks bad." Honestly gyokusai deserves its own post given how important a notion it is in Genazo and beyond ; it's the main topic of Mizuki Shigeru's manga "Soin Gyokusai Seyo" ("Onwards Towards Our Noble Deaths"), which is directly referenced multiple times in the movie. Mizuki's war flashbacks are all based on scenes from the manga, and the protagonist makes a silent appearance in a scene. (He's the man with glasses standing behind Mizuki when the officer is telling them he won't be joining them in their suicide mission.)

Kawakami Tetsuharu's "2000 hits" Upon meeting Mizuki, Tokiya asks him about Kawakami, and Mizuki promises to talk about the story of "Kawakami's 2000 hits" if he gets the chance. Kawakami Tetsuharu was a baseball player known as "The God Of Batting" , and became the first in the history of Japanese professional baseball to achieve 2,000 hits, playing professionally for 18 years.

"The strange local deity" Katsunori mentions that the village worships what he calls "a strange local deity" that has its dedicated shrine atop a mountain. The head of the Ryuga family also acts as its shrine priest. "Local deity" would be 土俗の神 (dozoku no kami) - Interestingly, in the subs provided by Amazon Prime, it reads the homonym "土属の神" (dozoku no kami) instead, changing the meaning to "A strange god of the earth." I genuinely wonder if it's a typo or intentional - as the village suffers from tremors, it would make sense for a god of the earth to be worshipped in order to prevent those, right? After Tokimaro's body is found, the crowd keeps mentioning "the curse of Nagura-sama", which seems to be the name of said worshipped deity. Otome calls those tremors "龍哭" "ryukoku", and you may recognize those kanji from earlier in the post : it's "dragon" and "crying" again. I chose to render it as "Dragon's Wail" in the subs - of course, these "wails" and tremors are caused by the Kyokotsu's held captive in the well, but the Ryuga choosing to perceive this phenomenon as a dragon makes sense: the dragon is a manifestation of their karmic debt and anxieties, anxieties that they carry in their family name itself. (Interestingly, have you seen the big specter paw looming over Mizuki and Katsunori as they are first seen entering the Ryuga's mansion?...)

Tokisada's will reading scene: Otome is sitting in front of a door where cherry blossoms are painted. Tokisada's portrait is hanged on top of a painted dragon holding a pearl. It seems like a grand display of power and virtue at first, but if you take into account that the dragon represents Kyokotsu, plus Tokisada's fate at the end of the story... A dragon holding a, er, ball shaped object, has now a completely different impression in hindsight, doesn't it? Interestingly, Katsunori is sitting so that he appears in the dragon's maw, foreshadowing his defeat against Tokimaro who is sitting closer to the pearl.

Ore wo koroseeee! Mizuki, who previously said he didn't want to die, is now seen running on the battlefield, shouting : "殺せ！　殺せ！俺を殺せ !" "korose! korose! ore wo korose!" "Kill.. kill.... Kill me!" It gives the initial impression that he's shouting to himself an order to kill his enemies, but then add the object "me" : as much as he wants to live, he's bracing himself to perform his suicide in battle. It has become an iconic line so I was nervous about it. Because of the context, I ended up using this to keep a natural flow : "Die... die.... let me die!"

Mizuki and Gegero's first exchange in Nagura Village. ...which also became very popular lines. "１本 くれんか ?" "ippon kurenka ?" "やだね～" "ya da ne~" "Can you give me one?" "No way~" Gegero will repeat that "iya da ne / no way" at the end of the movie, to Tokisada.

Sengoku era armor Not related to the script but I'll put it here because I got curious and researched the armor design lol. By inserting his fingers into its nose, Osada accesses a secret passage. Interestingly, it's when he approaches the same armor that Yamada falls into the basement at the beginning of the movie. It's still doing its job after all these years!

Keiji Sada Hinoe mentions how Mizuki looks like Keiji Sada, a popular actor from the 40s to the 60s. He's super handsome! Google him! Specifically, Mizuki was "partially based on characters from the 1956 Japanese film I Will Buy You" (from Animage of December 2023), starring Keiji Sada. The movie having come out in 1956, it's fresh in Hinoe's mind! (thank you Kure for the tip!)

Tokyo Tower When talking with Tokiya, Mizuki mentions how "The world's tallest radio tower will soon be built in Tokyo." It refers to Tokyo Tower, finished in 1958, two years after the year the movie takes place in.

Gegero's "Hurry, go." He might sound like he doesn't want much to do with Mizuki at this point, but he will tell Mizuki this exact same line with a different tone at the end of the movie.

Nezumi Otoko rowing the boat When Mizuki fails to row the boat, he asks Nezumi Otoko to show him how to do it, to which he smugly answers "Why would I?" ("なんで俺が?") using "ore", a very casual pronoun to refer to oneself. But after Mizuki asks him "Please, sensei.", Nezumi quickly switches to the more polite and meek pronoun "boku". "Sensei? Sensei? Me?" (先生？先生？僕が?) Maybe it's not important, but I wanted to talk about Nezumi Otoko and I found it very cute, okay. Mizuki mentions how Gegero is easy, but so is Nezumi. Additionally, when rowing the boat, Nezumi sings: "Yo soro~ Yo soro~" "ヨーソローヨーソロー" It's a kind of work song sung to stay motivated and keep a rhythm. "Yo soro~" comes from "ようそろ", "to keep it [the boat] steady". I left is as "Heave-ho~ Heave-ho~" but I was this close to make him sing Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream... (No.)

Nonnonba After Mizuki learns of yokai, he tells Gegero: "When I was a kid, the old lady who took care of me used to tell me stories about yokai often. I had no idea it was all real." It refers to Mizuki Shigeru's work "Nonnonba to ore", a novel then a manga which also received two TV adaptations. It's the autobiographical story of his childhood in Sakaiminato relating his experiences with an old lady he called Nonnonba, who told him about yokai stories, and thus sparked Mizuki's own interest in yokai, inspiring him to include them in his stories in the future.

"You can't see things just by trying to see them with your eyes." As Seki Toshihiko (Gegero's VA) mentioned, this line is reminiscent of one of the fox's line in Antoine de Saint-Exupery's The Little Prince : “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

"M" While an elixir of immortality remains fictional, there is still some truth in the story of the "M" drug. It's not confirmed by any mean, but "M" could very well stand for Metamphetamin ; Japanese pharmaceutical companies were contracted during the war to produce metamphetamines towards war effort. Tablets under the commercial name "Philopon" (also romanized hiropon) were distributed during WWII to soldiers and workers to increase productivity, leading to an addiction epidemic continuing well after the war, when the surplus production was dumped into the domestic market.

Kyokotsu As usual in Gegege no Kitaro, it takes inspiration from foklore. So just like Gegero explains in the movie, Kyokotsu is the spirit of someone who died in a well, holding a grudge driving them mad.

"Love? That is some grandiose phrasing." I guess the Japanese language is famous for being cautious in expressing one self, showing modesty and restraint when it comes to expressing feelings. The story of novelist Souseki Natsume choosing to translate the English "I love you." into "月が綺麗ですね" (tsuki ga kirei desu ne), "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" is famous after all. It's why Mizuki shows surprise at Gegero's many casual and direct uses of the word "love", 愛 "ai", an habit which he got from his wife.

Terrace scene The Onmyoji are practictioners of Onmyodo. The Kidoshu are a group of yokai-hunting onmyoji who appears in various Gegege media, most recently with Rei Isurugi in the 2018 anime. Urakido, the "back/reverse/hidden" kidoshu, are as described by Gegero members of the Kidoshu who were banished for using what I translated as "forbidden techniques" as a shortcut. They were eventually employed by the Ryuga family. To be more precise, the Urakido's technique is qualified as "外法" (geho), which means outside of Buddhist teachings with a negative connotation, relating to occultism and sorcery using skulls ("外法頭" geho atama, that Osada and Tokisada are seen using in the movie.) Hence the idea of "forbidden" art or technique. It's similar to the word "外道" (gedo), which also means outside of Buddhist teachings, but in the more neutral sense of "pagan" or "profane".

"On!" The Japanese pronunciation of the mantra "Aum". Memed to death by fans. Poor Osada.

"Come! All of you who hold grudges!" Sayo's "Come! All of you who hold grudges!" line is repeated by Gegero at the end of the movie with the same wording.

Hinamatsuri and Hanami At the end of the movie, Tokisada is enjoying sake and hishimochi, sitting in front of a golden screen and on a red fabric. It's reminiscent of Hina matsuri, a spring festival celebrating little girls, where a specific doll set is displayed in celebrating households a few days before the festival. At the top of the doll set is the emperor and the empress dolls, typically sitting on a red carpet in front of golden screens. He invites Gegero and Mizuki to stop and enjoy the cherry blossom like they would be celebrating Hanami, or flower viewing ; an activity during spring where picnics are enjoyed under cherry blossoms in bloom. Sweet sake and pink, white, green colored dango are associated with Hanami.

The Blood Cherry Blossom It's called 妖樹血桜 (yojuchizakura) "Bewitching Tree Blood Cherry Blossom", by Tokisada once in the script. Which is really a mouthful in English, so I consistently called it "The Blood Cherry Blossom". "妖" is the same "yo" as in yokai, and it means suspicious, mysterious, bewitching. "樹" "ki" (or "ju" when compound), is tree. So 妖樹 yoju, is a monster tree - meaning the tree itself is yokai...?

"It's a price we'll have to pay." THE Mizuki line. "ツケは払わなきゃな !" "tsuke wa harawanakya na!" I never thought about it before, but when it was finally time to translate this line I realized : what subject should I use? I? We? Who is paying the price? Just before, Tokisada says: "This... If you break this, the Kyokotsu will go wild... It'll destroy the entire country!" And throughout the movie, there is that idea that all the villagers carry karmic debt, being agent of exploitation and imperialism by working for the Ryuga (Gegero explicitly says so.) - but not just them, Mizuki as well, was perpetuating this exploitation, was part of this collective responsibility, up until his encounter with Gegero changed him. His actions have had consequences, and he knows it, so...

"Hahahaha! It's a price we'll have to pay!"

made the more sense to me.

___

And that's all I wanted to say for today. Well... actually there's more, but this post has gotten way too long already. If you've read this far, thank you so much!

I hope you enjoy Gegege no Nazo as much as I did!

[rxreid]

HC for an alternative happy ending for our boy Bellamy Blake?

i’m gonna be sooo fr with you guys…i found out what happened in s7 and stopped watching at the end of s6 😭😭 so for me that’s lowkey how it all ends…ofc i know the principle of s7 but anyway! i am SO happy to give him a better ending because lord knows he deserves it

dream ending of t100 for me would probably be everyone finding happiness on sanctum without all the transcendence bs.. like...screw all the people who lived there originally (unless they were nice ig...)

i imagine bellamy would probably lead the guards on sanctum too

probably would serve under clarke because in my perfect lil au she's still the leader (as she should be)

honestly if he wanted just a peaceful life i reckon he'd do carpentry or some kind of craft trade for the people of sanctum yk?

like he'd have a lil house (storage container...) just towards the edge of the hilltop where he crafts his lil furniture UGH need carpenter!bellamy in my life

he's probably desperate to find a partner to settle down and have kids with

especially after meeting madi, you can't tell me that didn't convince him on the spot that he wanted a bigger family

and please lord i just need him and octavia to be happy. the two of them getting their own little families and getting to actually BE a family themselves??? why couldn't i write the last season of the show. it would be pure happiness

in sanctum he probably learns a lot more about the value of life beyond surviving, and i think he’d love to just be part of a community where he & his family aren’t being ostracised

therefore being able to provide for the village is probably top of his list

ik theres mass amounts of farmland but idk…he deffo grows strawberries in his garden 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

gives murphy the rotten ones duh

i wanna write blurbs based on this lil au icl...especially carpenter bellamy bc thats been plaguing my mind foreverrrrrr i love imagining what they'd all do on sanctum without any threats <3

[dirtandcrime]

Jayce Talis FanFic Concept ?

!! ARCANE SEASON 2 SPOILERS !!

I don't think I fully understood the wild rune thing in season 2, but I still really liked seeing the alternate universes/timelines, especially the one Jayce ends up in. I didn't really resonate with Jayce as a character before season 2, but after his little field trip he became more fleshed out to me (or maybe it's just the beard).

Point is, I'd like to see more of that apocalyptic timeline (and desperate, barely surviving Jayce), cause wouldn't it be cool if he was stuck there just a bit longer?

So imagine Jayce is there, struggling to survive, fighting the white machine thingies and kind of failing miserably because he destroyed his hextech hammer to fix his leg. He's on the verge of giving up, or maybe dying from his injuries when a mysterious saviour (gn! reader) shows up, the first living person he's seen in months. They beat up the machines or ward them off in some way before hauling Jayce's now unconscious body with them. Jayce then wakes up in some sort of safe haven, like a really small village of people (edit: or some sort of nomad clan who constantly travel to avoid being corrupted by the arcane or found by the 'machines') who haven't been touched by the arcane. They could have developed some kind of tech that 'countered' the effects of the arcane (lanterns?), keeping the machines away from them. The base of their protection and the tech is their one and only scientist, the same person who saved Jayce.

The whole thing could basically be about these people surviving the apocalyptic world beside Jayce while he becomes close with the main scientist, eventually resulting in them finding out he technically caused their horrible reality. That causes some conflict or rift between them, until the scientist also realizes this means Jayce can also undo everything if he just goes back to his reality, and so it all turns into a quest to get Jayce back home. The ending is bound to be angsty, since Jayce will need to leave the scientist and never ever see them again.

I obviously don't know much about LOL lore nor do I understand how the arcane and all that science stuff works, but this would be really interesting to read!! :D

[roseazura]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 𝑾𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆

𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲 𝗟𝗶𝘃𝗲-𝗔𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗠𝗮𝘇𝗲 𝗥𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿

Summary: An adventure, another universe. What would the Straw Hats be like in the Maze Runner universe?

Genre: Alternative Universe. Drama. Kinda angsty. What If?

Characters: East Blue Straw Hats.

Warnings: Normal violence from both franchises. Does not include (Y/N). Not a "x reader" story. Mention of: murders, deaths, implicit torture, traumatic events, experimentation, betrayals. Based on the Maze Runner movie trilogy with some details from the books. Contains possible spoilers for both franchises.

Words Count: 10k+

A/N: Hello, beauties! I hope you're all doing well and having a wonderful day. I know this crossover might seem a bit unusual, but the idea popped into my head, and I wanted to run with it—honestly, it was pretty fun to create! All events and character classifications were adapted based on my perception of each character in the Maze Runner universe—if you imagined something different and had another vision, that’s totally okay! I hope you like it. Enjoy your reading!

Subject A56: Luffy – “The Captain”

Group A

Role in The Glade: Runner / First-in-Command.

Time in The Glade: Three years.

Flare Immunity: Immune.

Life Before Arrival at W.C.K.D

Luffy grew up in Foosha Village, a small coastal community far from W.C.K.D’s direct influence. Its residents rejected the organization’s methods, refusing to sacrifice lives for a supposed greater good. As W.C.K.D tightened its grip on the world, the adults did everything they could to protect the younger ones, ensuring they wouldn’t be dragged into its system.

Despite the chaos left behind by the Flare, Luffy held onto his optimism, believing in freedom and the possibility of changing humanity’s fate. He refused to accept W.C.K.D’s oppression as the only future and saw resistance as the true path to salvation.

His conviction solidified when he met Shanks, a veteran of the Right Arm—a legend beyond W.C.K.D’s reach. While the organization expanded its control and experimented on immune children, Shanks led a faction of resistance. He wasn’t a scientist or a superpowered soldier, just someone who understood the real danger W.C.K.D posed and refused to let it go unchallenged.

Shanks knew the world wouldn’t make things easy for Luffy. He had watched him grow, full of energy, with that unshakable grin that defied any darkness. But freedom came at a price, and willpower alone wasn’t always enough.

When he handed Luffy his hat, it wasn’t just a gesture—it was a promise. A reminder that, no matter what happened, the spirit of those who carve their own path should never break. That moment marked the start of something Luffy didn’t fully understand yet, but with time, it would become his reason to keep moving forward—no matter what the world tried to take from him.

That same indomitable spirit pushed Luffy to seek new frontiers, something that brought him closer to his longed-for freedom. He arrived at Gray Terminal, or what was left of it, where he met Sabo and Ace, two other immune survivors who had learned to navigate the margins of the controlled world.

At first, they distrusted him. No one in Gray Terminal gave their trust easily. But something about Luffy reminded them of the same stubborn will that kept them standing every day. From that moment on, they became brothers, facing the fight for survival together.

But resistance wasn’t an endless shield. A W.C.K.D patrol discovered their hideout. The response was immediate—within hours, an extraction operation was underway. The attack was calculated, using weapons designed to neutralize without killing—their targets were the immune.

In the midst of chaos, Sabo made the most dangerous decision: confronting the patrol to distract them, giving Ace and Luffy the chance to escape. But W.C.K.D didn’t leave loose ends. Before he could get away, a controlled explosion struck him down. His body was never found. Ace and Luffy never saw a corpse, but the certainty of his death hit them with brutal force.

Then came the paralyzing darts. Before they could react, it was over. They were captured, transported to the organization’s facilities. That moment marked the end of their lives as they knew them.

W.C.K.D Facilities

Inside the facilities, Luffy and Ace were separated. W.C.K.D had different plans for each of them. While Ace was sent to more advanced trials for immune subjects, Luffy remained under direct observation by the scientists.

From the start, Luffy was different. W.C.K.D, convinced that extreme stress was the key to activating immunity in the Lethal Zone of the brain, designed experiments to break young minds and mold them to its purpose. They expected that, like any other subject, he would eventually yield. But he didn’t.

Every experiment pushed the children to their limits, forcing fear, desperation, and obedience. But Luffy didn’t react like the others. When subjected to grueling endurance tests, he didn’t just overcome them—he did it with a smile, as if the suffering meant to trigger the desired biological response had no effect on him.

His mind didn’t break. His spirit didn’t falter. No matter how much they pressured him, Luffy always found a way to keep standing. His resilience was an anomaly within W.C.K.D’s system—a sign that he couldn’t be controlled or tamed.

One day, he met Zoro and Nami, two children also being prepared for their inevitable future. In the cold corridors, Luffy was like a ray of light. Shortly after, Usopp and Sanji joined the group. Though he didn’t fully grasp the magnitude of what was happening around them, he never lost the energy that defined him. He played with them as if everything were normal, as if the world wasn’t shaping them for something much darker.

What worried W.C.K.D the most wasn’t his strength—it was his influence over others. In an environment designed for isolation, Luffy managed to bring children together, turning them into a support network instead of individual test subjects. Every child he encountered became someone he bonded with. He gave them hope. To the organization, this emotional unity was dangerous.

As the years passed, they realized they couldn’t break him, but they also couldn’t discard him. He was a variable beyond their calculations, a subject with an unusual resilience who might hold the key to their goals… if they could find a way to control him.

But they couldn't control him, no one could. Luffy wasn't made for chains; rather, he was prepared to break them, and one day he would.

Arrival at The Glade

The scientists tricked Luffy by promising him a lot of meat if he completed the test. Thinking it was just a simple challenge, he accepted without hesitation. But the test was the Neutralizer, and before he could understand what was happening, he lost consciousness.

When he woke up, everything was dark. He couldn’t remember anything beyond his name or why his body trembled with an unexplainable sense of unease. He was inside a metal box, slowly ascending, shaking with each movement. The only thing he had with him was a straw hat. He didn’t know where he was, but his instincts told him that something was about to change.

From the very first day, Luffy was different. While others reacted with fear or confusion, he showed excitement for the Glade, more interested in what he could do than in what he had lost. At first, the veterans didn’t know what to think; his energy seemed reckless in a place where every mistake came at a high cost. But over time, they realized it wasn’t ignorance—it was confidence.

Hope.

While the others saw the Maze as a sentence, he saw it as a test. From the moment he arrived, it was clear that Luffy wasn’t trapped in the system that had placed him there.

If there was a limit, he was ready to break it.

Runner and First-in-Command

Luffy is simply Luffy. His instinct drives him to move without fear, to face the unknown without hesitation. Even before arriving at The Glade, his energy was unstoppable, and somehow, he always found a way to use it.

One day, without thinking too much about it, he crossed The Glade’s boundary and entered the Maze as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t remember the rule about not doing so without being a Runner, and to him, exploring just made sense. The others panicked, expecting the worst, counting the minutes with no sign of him. But just as they were about to organize an emergency search, Luffy reappeared, completely unharmed, looking utterly relaxed.

The worst part? He had returned before the gates closed because he didn’t want to miss dinner. Unbelievable.

From that moment on, they made him a Runner.

No one understood how Luffy always made it back on time from the Maze, but he always did. While other Runners followed calculated routes, he searched for something more—a path no one had taken before, a secret yet to be discovered.

He didn’t become First-in-Command in the conventional way. He wasn’t the most calculated, the most disciplined, or even the first to arrive at The Glade. But his instincts and natural leadership made it impossible to overlook him.

What truly earned him the position was his ability to inspire others. Although he didn’t remember his past, his essence remained intact. He had a unique way of seeing the world, making others feel that they could achieve the impossible. He never imposed authority, yet everyone followed him without question.

Over time, even the most experienced began to trust his judgment. No matter how dangerous a situation was, Luffy always had a way of facing it without fear. And in an environment where survival depended on more than just strength and strategy, his presence became the spark that kept The Glade united.

Many advised him to give up being a Runner to focus on his role as First-in-Command, but he refused, claiming he could handle both responsibilities and that exploration always called to him. As a true leader, he had to find the way out, and he wouldn’t sit back waiting for others to do it for him. If they found the path, they would do it together.

So, without seeking it, without even realizing he was taking command, Luffy became the key piece within the Maze’s system. Not because W.C.K.D had designed him for it, but because no one else could take the place he had carved out for himself.

Extra Data:

Despite being a talented Runner, Luffy has gotten lost in the Maze more times than he’d like to admit. He always says it’s “part of the exploration process,” but in reality, he just gets distracted too easily. Everyone trusts him, sure, but they also recognize that sometimes, Luffy finds his way back purely by intuition.

Sanji tried rationing his food portions because, if left to Luffy, he would devour the entire food supply on his own. However, in a way that only Luffy could manage, he always found more food.

He’s not afraid of the Maze, but he also seems incapable of recognizing danger like the others. He always enters with absolute confidence, even when the situation is dire.

As First-in-Command, he didn’t create many rules for the Glade. In fact, there were only a few very specific ones: don’t harm others or yourself, always help one another, and don’t hoard food just for yourself (share it with him). The lack of strict rules could have led to chaos in other cases, but somehow, Luffy’s mere presence seemed to keep things under control.

The idea of the bonfire to celebrate a Greenie’s arrival on the first day of each month was Luffy’s. At first, he just wanted an excuse to eat more and bring everyone together, but over time, the tradition became an important moment to welcome newcomers and help them feel part of the group.

Subject A111: Zoro – “The Guardian”

Group A

Role in The Glade: Second-In-Command.

Time in The Glade: Two years and nine months.

Flare Immunity: Immune.

Life Before Arrival at W.C.K.D

After the Flare, the world was no longer a safe place. Chaos consumed entire cities, resources dwindled, and desperation turned people into their own worst threat. Zoro grew up in the middle of this disaster, in Shimotsuki, a small village where the tradition of swordsmanship still survived.

Shimotsuki Kōshirō, the dojo master, understood the dangers surrounding them. He saw children disappear, watched survival become more uncertain, and decided to act. Rescuing them wasn’t just a choice—it was a necessity. That’s how the Isshin Dojo became a refuge from the chaos outside.

Inside that shelter, the dojo was not just a place for training but a pillar of stability in a collapsing world. For those rescued by the master or those who found their way there, the dojo was more than a combat space—it was a place where discipline meant survival, where strength wasn’t a luxury but a requirement.

Among the ruins of the old world, the children learned to fight not for pride but because, beyond those walls, only the strong moved forward.

That’s where Zoro met Kuina. More than just a rival, she was a constant reminder that there was always something to strive for, someone pushing him to be faster, sharper, stronger. Kuina shared her dream with him—not just to become powerful, but to use that strength to protect those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

For the two of them, training wasn’t just about survival—it was about conviction. They wanted to be strong enough to defend others, to ensure that no one else would be left vulnerable in a world where strength dictated fate. Together, they promised to reach the top, not for glory, but because they knew their power could make a difference for those who had no chance to fight.

But no refuge lasted forever. The shadow of W.C.K.D was always watching, and when they finally arrived at Shimotsuki, they took everything.

The dojo fell. The children were separated, and the walls that once meant protection were now just ruins of failed resistance. Kuina didn’t hesitate. She surrendered to the organization with one condition—that they wouldn’t kill her father. Zoro saw her decision and knew he couldn’t let her go alone. He wouldn’t allow them to take her without a fight.

But his strength wasn’t enough. W.C.K.D ripped them from the home they had known. Zoro was dragged into an uncertain future, where training was no longer a path to improvement but a tool for the organization to break him.

Other children were taken with them, but they were separated as soon as W.C.K.D had the chance. They wanted to turn their resilience into something useful for their experiments, to shape their will into something they could control.

They saw potential in them, but Zoro would never bow.

W.C.K.D Facilities

Inside the organization’s facilities, Zoro never stopped searching for Kuina. He checked every hallway, every group of children, every accessible record, but he never found a trace of her. That absence didn’t break him; on the contrary, it made him stronger. He became more disciplined, more resilient, facing every trial with the same conviction he had in their training duels.

If he couldn’t find her, there was only one option left—keep moving forward, grow stronger, and do everything possible to fulfill the dream they shared.

W.C.K.D studied him with particular interest. He wasn’t just immune; his physical and mental endurance exceeded all expected limits. He didn’t give up, didn’t show exhaustion like other subjects. He didn’t react as he should have. To the organization, Zoro was an exceptional case—someone who didn’t just survive extreme stress but confronted it with determination instead of fear.

When he met Luffy, it was like being exposed to pure energy—a force scientists couldn’t control. At first, Zoro watched him with skepticism, wondering how someone so carefree could survive in a place designed to break spirits. But over time, he understood what set Luffy apart—a freedom that neither fear nor the system could erase.

Luffy reminded him of her, especially that dreamer’s mind that refused to yield, despite the disaster surrounding them.

The scientists classified Zoro as a highly resistant subject, capable of surpassing physical limits through sheer determination. Over the years, they subjected him to increasingly demanding trials, but Zoro never faltered. He wasn’t trying to escape or conform. He was only trying to grow stronger—as if preparing for something far greater.

And when the time came, he wouldn't fail. Not again.

Arrival at The Glade

Three months.

Three months without knowing anything about Luffy. No clue what had happened to him or where he was, but Zoro could guess the answer to that last question. No matter how much he cooperated to get an explanation, no one ever gave him one he actually liked.

"He passed the trials," was all the scientists told him during one of the many tests they put him through—just like that, with indifference. Zoro hated it. Luffy was his friend, someone who had restored his hope, who never gave up and never abandoned those he cared about. He simply couldn’t have that he just disappeared after completing the trials.

After they all promised to find a way out together.

Nami was worried too. Zoro noticed the anxiety eating at her day after day, and that was the final straw. First Kuina, now Luffy—he wasn’t going to lose another friend and do nothing about it.

During one of the tests, Zoro rebelled against W.C.K.D. He refused to keep playing along unless they gave him the answers he needed, including where subjects who completed the trials were sent. It wasn’t a peaceful conversation—there were punches thrown, destruction on both sides, though Zoro had the upper hand.

Unfortunately, they managed to neutralize him. But instead of sending him back with the others with a warning, W.C.K.D made a decision—if all this trouble was because of a missing friend, why not send him to that friend? Good Samaritans, right?

Before sending him to the Glade, they put him through final endurance tests, observing whether his body would react in an unexpected way to the erasure of his past. And yet, he showed no signs of weakness—not even pain from the Neutralizer, unlike other subjects. His mind was as stubborn as he was, resisting memory elimination far more than expected. But in the end, they succeeded.

When he woke up inside The Box, his instincts kicked in immediately—muscles tensed, preparing for a fight he didn’t understand. He stepped into the Glade with a cold stare, watching the other guys cautiously. He didn’t trust anyone. He had no reason to.

The first days were lonely. He didn’t seek out friendships or answer questions. He had only one certainty—his own body. His reflexes, his strength—it was as if everything else had faded, leaving only an echo of who he once was.

It was in that isolation that Luffy appeared. Not as a threat, but as someone who didn’t follow the same rules. He insisted on talking to him, treating him like they already knew each other. At first, Zoro ignored him, but over time, his carefree nature started to feel familiar.

Trust came slowly, but his instincts told him that this boy wasn’t a danger. He was familiar.

Luffy finally won his trust not just by trying to include him, but by respecting Zoro’s personal motivations—something he appreciated.

The Glade was a new world, but Zoro didn’t bother trying to understand it. He just kept moving forward, as if stopping had never been an option.

Second-In-Command

Zoro never had an official role in The Glade, but his presence became indispensable. He didn’t fit into the traditional jobs like Slicer, Baggers, or Gardeners, but that didn’t mean he didn’t contribute.

After observing him, the Gladers considered Zoro for the Runner position. His endurance, speed, and strength made him an ideal candidate, capable of handling the physical demands of the Maze. But everything changed when they put him to the test in his first scouting run.

He got lost. Multiple times.

He was fast, nearly unstoppable, but his sense of direction was a disaster. While the other Runners were already returning to the Glade, Zoro kept taking the wrong paths or ending up in dead ends. But the worst came when, without realizing it, he got trapped in the Maze as night fell.

The Gladers assumed the worst. Zoro had barely arrived, and he was already gone. But Luffy, with a certainty no one else had, refused to believe it. Zoro was still alive. He had no proof—he just knew.

When the sun began to rise over The Glade and the massive Maze doors opened, everyone prepared to see emptiness on the other side. But then, Zoro stepped through.

Covered in wounds, clothes torn, breathing heavy—but standing. He had spent the night in the Maze. He had fought a Griever. And he had won.

After that, it was clear he could never be a Runner. Not because he lacked the ability, but because his instinct led him to fight, not flee. And while everyone knew Zoro could take down a Griever, no one wanted to risk it too often. Oh, and because his sense of direction was terrible.

Zoro became a pillar within the Glade’s structure, someone the others instinctively trusted and admired. He helped across different areas, from carrying supplies to handling heavy tasks others avoided. He never complained—he just did what had to be done. If something required strength, Zoro was there.

But above all, he was a protector. Not because he was assigned to be one, but because it was in his nature. In every internal conflict, in every situation that threatened the stability of The Glade, Zoro stepped in. If someone was in danger, he was at the front without hesitation.

Over time, that same trust led him to become Second-in-Command. Not because he sought the position, but because he was one of the few who could maintain balance alongside Luffy. His presence in the Glade became essential—not just as a guardian, but as someone who, no matter what happened, would never let the others fall.

Extra Data:

Contrary to what the Gladers thought, Zoro doesn’t sleep much at night; instead, he keeps watch to make sure everything is safe while the others rest. Even though the Maze doors close at night, meaning they’re protected, something in him keeps him alert, leading him to only take naps during the day.

Despite not remembering his life before the Glade, his body is still conditioned for combat. His training is more intense than anyone else’s. If he’s not working, he’s training, and if he’s not training, he’s sleeping. There’s no in-between.

He has a strange relationship with Luffy. He doesn’t always understand his logic, but somehow, he always ends up following him. Not because Luffy forces him to, but because he trusts him without needing explanations. Nami calls them “Dumb” and “Dumber,” but it’s affectionate.

When he got lost in the Maze, he actually found the exit—he just didn’t think it was important and kept going. I mean, it’s Zoro we’re talking about; he always ends up in the right place at the most unexpected moment, in the most ridiculous way possible.

He always carries weapons. Blades, of course, and always sharpened. Ever since his encounter with a Griever, where his weapons saved his life, he hasn’t left them behind for even a second. He never knows when he’ll need them again.

Subject A37: Nami – “The Strategist”

Group A

Role in The Glade: Keeper of the Map-makers.

Time in The Glade: Two and a half years.

Flare Immunity: Not Immune.

Life Before Arrival at W.C.K.D

Nami grew up in Cocoyasi, a coastal town that tried to stay beyond the reach of the Flare and the organizations that emerged in its aftermath. Life there was never easy—resources were scarce, the weather was unpredictable, and the constant attacks from Cranks forced the residents to reinforce their defenses.

Unlike other settlements that sought shelter in fortified structures, Cocoyasi relied on the adaptability of its people. Survival wasn’t based solely on brute strength but on cleverness, on knowing every escape route and every natural hiding place.

She was adopted by Bell-mère, who taught Nami that intelligence could be the greatest weapon against despair. Even as a child, she showed an exceptional talent for understanding maps, studying patterns, and analyzing escape routes.

Unfortunately, history repeated itself. W.C.K.D continued hunting for immune children, and nothing would stop them. An extraction squad arrived, and everything else followed the same routine. In the chaos, Nami and her sister Nojiko were separated. Bell-mère tried to defend them but was killed in the confrontation.

W.C.K.D discarded Nami for not being immune, leaving her alone in the devastation they had caused during the raid. There, vulnerable and shattered, Arlong found her.

Arlong was a leader who operated beyond W.C.K.D’s control—not out of moral opposition, but out of his own ambition. In a collapsed world, he had become a conqueror of ruins, taking what he wanted and subjugating those he deemed weak. To him, survival was a game of dominance, and the only law he respected was his own.

His group didn’t fight for freedom—they fought for control. They believed themselves the only ones capable of surviving without W.C.K.D, imposing their own system of power and loyalty. They operated like land-based pirates in the wreckage of the world, raiding settlements, trading information, and eliminating anyone who stood against them. To them, the world was already doomed, and the only option was to rule it before its final fall.

Seeing Nami’s intelligence and strategic mind, Arlong offered her a deal. He promised freedom, the chance to reunite with her sister, and protection against W.C.K.D’s relentless threat. But she knew it was all a lie—a deception disguised as an opportunity.

Even so, she had no other options to ensure her survival. She accepted, infiltrating W.C.K.D, using her mind as a weapon to secure her place and find a way to take back what had been stolen from her.

W.C.K.D Facilities

Arlong moved Nami to another community with immune children, knowing that W.C.K.D would arrive soon, and so they did. Nami volunteered herself, claiming she believed in their cause and the good the organization was doing for the world. The agents took her in for evaluation, setting her plan in motion.

Inside the facilities, they subjected her to tests to measure her intellectual capacity, adaptability, and quick thinking.

The results surprised W.C.K.D. Her mind detected patterns and optimized routes with a precision beyond their analysts. Her cartographic skills were innate, allowing her to refine the Maze structures in ways the scientists had never considered.

Additionally, her ability to analyze under pressure made her excel in strategic scenarios, making calculated decisions without compromising the final goal. W.C.K.D classified her as an exceptional mind, one worth utilizing in their projects.

What they didn’t know was that, while fulfilling her role within the organization, she was leaking information to Arlong. Even that was part of her own plan—she had never intended to be a pawn in their game. She had her own strategy, waiting for the exact moment to strike.

She had infiltrated to unravel secrets, map out facilities, and discover where they were holding Nojiko. She didn’t just want to rescue her; she wanted to free the other children taken from their families and sabotage the experiments in progress.

As she perfected the designs of the Mazes, she used her access to gather critical information—transport routes, security protocols, internal structures. Every piece brought her closer to her goal. It wasn’t just about escaping but dismantling the system from within.

Trust had never been a real option for Nami. Too many losses, too many betrayals. W.C.K.D saw her as a tool, Arlong as a bargaining chip, and she had learned to survive alone, calculating every move. But then came Zoro and Luffy.

Zoro didn’t talk much, didn’t try to understand her through words, but he was always there. He protected her without asking for explanations, like an instinct. He was constant, unshakable, someone she could rely on even if he never said it out loud.

Luffy, on the other hand, was pure chaos—something she had never known how to handle, but somehow, he made her feel safe. He never demanded anything, never tried to decipher her. He simply accepted her, as if she had always been part of his story. With him, distrust became meaningless, because Luffy never doubted her.

No matter how many years passed, maybe there was still a little hope left, and Nami would do everything she could to get them out of there.

Arrival at The Glade

W.C.K.D never planned to erase Nami’s memory. She was too valuable, too efficient. Her mind was a resource they couldn’t afford to waste, so they continued extracting information from her.

On the other hand, Arlong never fully trusted Nami. He knew she had a hidden plan—she was too smart to simply surrender. He let her play her role because it was useful to him, but when he saw she was close to completing it, he decided to act first. He wasn’t going to let her jeopardize his influence.

He handed over immune children to W.C.K.D as a sort of trade, and the organization accepted, because it saved them resources in their extraction process.

Then, he exposed her. He presented proof of her access to classified information and her research on immune children, framing it as if the organization had reached out to him first. He even revealed details about his informant. W.C.K.D didn’t hesitate to act, and with the information Arlong provided, they confirmed that Nami was an internal threat.

Elsewhere, Nojiko waited at the designated meeting point, hidden as she counted the minutes. Nami had managed to find her some time ago, and together, they had finalized their escape plan. Everything was ready—the route mapped out, the timing calculated, the distractions in place. All that was left was for Nami to arrive.

But the minutes passed, and she never appeared.

At first, Nojiko thought a minor setback had delayed her, that she just needed a few more moments. But as the wait dragged on, the realization became unbearable. Something had gone wrong.

Nami never had the chance to escape. W.C.K.D intercepted her before she could complete the final part of the plan. Nojiko never heard from her again after that night. She only understood one thing—whatever had happened, her sister wasn’t coming back.

When they took her to the labs, Nami resisted. There was no chance of escaping, and she knew it, but the frustration of having been so close made her fight anyway. However, the true torture came afterward.

They implanted the Neutralizer. For Nami, the pain wasn’t just physical. Arlong’s betrayal, the failure of her plan, Luffy and Zoro trapped in the Maze, the certainty that Nojiko was waiting for her without knowing she’d never arrive… Everything crashed down into one overwhelming sensation as the machine began its work.

To the organization, it was just a routine procedure. To Nami, it was confirmation that everything she had built had disappeared.

When she stepped out of the Box, the first thing she saw was an open sky, vast and unfamiliar, as if she were seeing it for the first time. Then came the voices—strangers murmuring, watching her with curiosity and caution.

Her instinct was to calculate. Count faces, measure distances, analyze the structure of the place. She didn’t know why she was doing it, only that her mind reacted before she could even comprehend it.

She didn’t let panic take over, but she didn’t trust anyone either. She observed in silence, storing information. Something felt wrong. She had lost something essential, though she didn’t know what.

The only thing she knew for sure was that she needed answers. And she wouldn’t stay trapped in that place without understanding why.

Map-maker

At first, Nami felt like she didn’t quite belong in The Glade. She was quick and agile, but not enough to be a Runner. She didn’t see herself as a Slicer either—not because of a lack of strength, but because the idea of caring for and sacrificing animals was difficult for her.

She tried to adapt, testing different tasks, but none seemed quite right. Gardening offered her a sort of calm, a sense of control in the middle of the chaos, but it wasn’t enough. Working with plants gave her some relief, a small escape, yet she still felt out of place. It was as if there was something inside her, a buried skill, but each time she tried to remember, she only found emptiness.

Then, she discovered a function within The Glade that, while it didn’t give her all the answers, at least provided direction. She became the one responsible for managing supplies and maintaining order. From the very start, it was clear that no one had her level of organization, and while some initially tried handling the resources without a structured system, she quickly took control.

She made sure every food ration was accounted for, that supplies were distributed efficiently, and that no one took more than necessary. If anyone tried to trick the system or take provisions without permission, Nami caught them instantly.

She kept a detailed record of everything that entered the Glade, from tools to medicine. Her ability to manage resources was so precise that even the leaders relied on her calculations more than any other method.

If there was a shortage, Nami found solutions. If someone tried to negotiate for more than their share, she knew exactly how to handle the situation. Her combination of intelligence, strategy, and determination made the Glade function far more efficiently.

It still wasn’t the purpose she was searching for, but at least, for the first time, she had a clear role.

Until, little by little, she began to notice patterns in the Maze without even stepping inside.

The echoes of the internal mechanisms resonated at precise intervals, forming a kind of invisible rhythm. Some had noticed it, but most were too used to those details to really pay attention.

That’s when she started observing the Runners. She couldn’t explore the Maze herself, but she could listen. She approached them after every expedition, collecting information about what they saw—the unexpected twists, the new sectors.

Each account fed her mind. She took fragments of their experiences and reconstructed them into rudimentary maps. She compared different versions from various Runners, detecting patterns in their narratives, spotting inconsistencies that others overlooked.

Over time, the Runners began seeking her out before each run, trusting her ability to understand the Maze even without ever stepping inside it. Luffy, always trusting his intuition, was the first to recognize just how invaluable her skill was.

That’s how she discovered her role. She couldn’t remember ever designing Mazes before, but every line she traced on her maps felt familiar—like knowledge coming from a place her mind could no longer reach.

Extra Data:

She often observes the sky and atmospheric conditions, without knowing why she instinctively predicts weather changes. The boys joke that she has special Weather Girl powers.

Because of her love for mandarins, the Gardeners planted several trees bearing the fruit as a surprise and gift for Nami.

She was the first girl to arrive in The Glade, which was initially awkward due to dealing with so much testosterone. But she adapted and found a balance with the rest of the boys. Some areas of the Glade were even adjusted for her—girl privilege.

She established a "strategic barter" system in The Glade, where supplies, favors, and tasks had a specific value. If someone wanted more food, they had to offer something useful in exchange, like extra work or valuable information. If someone needed more tools, they could negotiate with services or scarce resources. Even personal favors had a price, and Nami kept a mental record of every debt. No one could take advantage of the system without her noticing, and if someone tried to cheat her, they mysteriously ended up with fewer supplies the next time.

Luffy was First-In-Command, but when it came to strategy and organization, Nami took control without question. If there were important decisions about resources or planning, he simply said, "Ask Nami," and moved on, fully trusting her judgment.

Subject A80: Usopp – “The Ingenious”

Group A

Role in the Glade: Builder.

Time in the Glade: One year and nine months.

Flare Immunity: Not Immune.

Life Before Arrival at W.C.K.D

Usopp grew up in Syrup Village, a settlement surviving on the edges of the Flare’s devastation. Scarcity and danger defined life there, though some still placed their trust in the promises of the organization.

His mother, Banchina, spoke of his father as a free man—someone who had managed to escape the world’s ruin. To Usopp, he wasn’t an absence but proof that hope still existed beyond the devastation.

When his mother fell ill, her stories became his refuge. They weren’t just words, but a way to defy fear, to turn despair into something that could hold them together when reality threatened to break them.

One of the most important people in his life was Kaya. Fragile in health but sharp and curious in mind. As Usopp spun tales of fantasy and adventure, she listened with a smile, letting his words carry her through the days when her body refused to give her strength.

Since childhood, Kaya had been under the care of Klahadore—a man of imposing presence and impeccable manners. No one in the village questioned his role. Kaya trusted him, and that was enough for the others to accept him.

But it was all a lie.

Klahadore, whose real name was Kuro, led a group that sold immune children to W.C.K.D, executing their dirty work under the guise of protection. When he discovered Kaya’s unusual resistance to the Flare, he crafted a slow but effective strategy—he convinced her she was ill and subjected her to constant examinations, disguising immunity tests as treatments. For years, he controlled her perception of reality, ensuring she never questioned her condition.

When he confirmed that she was immune, he gave the signal. W.C.K.D invaded the village, supposedly to provide medical care for Kaya, but in the process, they took other children—including Usopp, who, paralyzed by fear, did not resist, though his instincts told him something was terribly wrong.

For Kaya, the betrayal wasn’t immediate. Klahadore soothed her with carefully chosen words, assuring her that within the facilities, she would finally have a chance to live without the risks of her illness.

Usopp, on the other hand, didn’t believe a single word.

W.C.K.D Facilities

From the very first day in W.C.K.D, Usopp didn’t fit the profile of an ideal subject. He wasn’t remarkably strong nor did he have unbreakable endurance. He wasn’t immune. To the scientists, he lacked biological potential.

But he survived.

Not because of his muscles, but because of his mind. Fear made him adapt faster than anyone, anticipating danger before it happened—not through logic, but through pure instinct.

W.C.K.D studied him as a case of psychological adaptation. They wanted to understand how he endured without exceptional abilities, how he manipulated perception with his words—though the latter could pose a long-term risk.

Inside the facilities, Usopp quickly learned that information was invaluable. He couldn’t fight physically, but he could observe, listen, and pretend he knew more than he actually did. When subjects began to lose hope, he created stories about an escape, about a possibility that didn’t yet exist. He did it to survive, to keep doubt from consuming him.

Usopp wanted to search for Kaya, but fear held him back. He knew defying W.C.K.D meant risking more than he could handle. Still, he never stopped trying. He listened to conversations, gathered data, searching for any hint of where she might be. He couldn’t act yet, but he needed to know she was still alive—so one day, he could go after her.

His creativity was his greatest weapon. During trials, he repaired objects, modified tools, and found use where others saw only scrap. That made him a valuable resource—not just to the scientists but to other subjects within the facilities. Internally, among the researchers, they called him “MacGyver.”

Despite admiring his ingenuity, W.C.K.D saw Usopp’s stories as a problem. They weren’t just distractions—they encouraged hope, and hope could lead to rebellion. They wanted obedient subjects, not children dreaming of escape.

And in one of those moments, when Usopp told his magnificent tales, Luffy listened. When he finished, Luffy applauded enthusiastically, as if every word had been worthy of recognition.

Luffy welcomed him into the group instantly. He knew Usopp had hidden potential and just needed someone to believe in him for it to flourish. That spark of light warmed Usopp—he realized then that he was no longer alone.

Arrival at The Glade

Usopp noticed it. His friends were disappearing one by one.

At first, he thought maybe they had been relocated to another section, that they would show up at any moment. But as days passed, then weeks, even months, fear settled into his chest again—that same fear he thought he had started to overcome. Had they left him behind? Had they been taken? What if W.C.K.D was only selecting those they deemed useful? What would happen to him?

He didn’t have much time to think.

A normal day. Another test. A Neutralizer. A Neutralizer? The world turned to darkness.

When he woke up, the air was dense and metallic, the floor cold against his skin. A mechanical hum echoed around him—the grinding of gears, the hollow sounds of a confined space. He didn’t understand where he was or why he was there.

Once outside The Box, fear came quickly. But Usopp forced himself to react. He imitated confidence he didn’t feel, masking his panic with every gesture. He couldn’t let them see what was really racing through his mind.

With no clear options, his survival instinct took over. He pretended to analyze, looked around with apparent calm, as if he could understand the situation just by observing. Though deep inside, only one question echoed loudly: Where was he?

The Gladers watched him with skepticism. Some wondered if he actually knew what he was doing or if he was just improvising to hide his nerves.

When night fell and the bonfire cast flickering light over the faces of the Gladers, Usopp kept up his act. He told stories that aimed to give meaning to that place, spoke with conviction, hoping that at least the sound of his own voice would convince him that he belonged.

Then Luffy appeared. Not with authority, not with questions—just with pure curiosity. He sat in front of Usopp, listening to every word with unexpected focus. There was no judgment in his expression, only genuine amusement. When Usopp finished his story, Luffy burst into laughter, admitting that he liked the way Usopp thought.

Without Luffy realizing it, something shifted inside Usopp. He didn’t know where he had come from, but he felt… right. He fit.

Maybe the answer wasn’t in pretending, but in being who he truly was.

Builder

At first, no one assigned Usopp a specific task. But he knew that if he didn’t prove himself useful, securing a place in that system would be difficult. So, he started fixing small issues—loose planks on fences, worn-out tools, jammed mechanisms. Details that others didn’t see as urgent, but ones he saw as opportunities to prove his worth.

His ability to improvise solutions with the materials he found set him apart. What seemed like scrap in the hands of others, Usopp turned into something functional. His ingenuity allowed him to create more efficient mechanisms for small tasks, making life in The Glade a little easier for everyone.

When he heard the story about Zoro and the Griever, he could barely sleep that night. The anxiety of knowing that monstrous, half-machine creatures were out there, loose, gnawed at him. By early morning, Usopp was already designing new defense mechanisms with a clear focus—anticipating any potential intrusion and acting before the threat got too close.

Fear? Pfft, of course not. They just had to be prepared for anything...

He started by installing rudimentary alarms made from taut ropes and metal cans, placed strategically at the Maze gates. If something crossed those barriers, the sound of clanging metal was loud enough to alert the Gladers.

Then, he improved the watchtowers, reinforcing the structures to provide a wider view of The Glade. He adjusted how the sentinels rotated, ensuring there were no blind spots. He also modified some platforms, adding supports for makeshift weapons.

From a distance, Usopp perfected his projectile technique, crafting ammunition from recycled materials. He experimented with weight, shape, and velocity to make sure they were effective against any threat. He adapted his attacks based on the situation—small and fast projectiles to alert, heavy ones to destabilize, and others designed specifically to inflict damage if necessary.

His ability to improvise solutions made him stand out. His quick adaptation and creativity with materials ultimately secured him a place among the Builders. Though he was more focused on repairing, he also found joy in creating.

Who would’ve thought anxiety would play such a crucial role in defending The Glade?

Extra Data:

Although he's a Builder, his talent truly shines when repairing tools or damaged structures. Many times, others think an object is beyond saving, but he always finds a way to make it useful again.

He never knows when he'll need them, so he hides small tools and materials in strategic locations around the Glade. It's an instinctive habit, as if his mind knows that one must always be prepared for the worst-case scenario.

Luffy officially named him "The Glade's Sharpshooter" since no one had Usopp’s level of aim. Plus, Usopp knew his inventions inside and out—there was no one better for the role.

He sleeps better knowing that Zoro is awake and watching over The Glade, trusting him completely to keep them safe.

Subject A3: Sanji – “The Provider”

Group A

Role in the Glade: Keeper of the Cooks.

Time in The Glade: Two years and six months.

Flare Immunity: Immune.

W.C.K.D Facilities

Sanji wasn’t born in a marginal settlement or a hidden refuge. From the very beginning, he was inside W.C.K.D’s system.

His family, the Vinsmokes, were strategic allies of the organization. Judge Vinsmoke, his father, was a key researcher in genetic manipulation, obsessed with creating a generation of immune and superior humans. To ensure it, he altered the body of Sora, his wife, before the birth of their children, modifying her biology to transmit immunity more efficiently.

His children were molded under that principle. Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji grew up within the facilities, adapting easily to the environment without questioning it. They were strong, efficient, devoid of empathy. But Sanji never fit into that vision.

From a young age, his mother was his refuge. She never believed in W.C.K.D’s methods or in her husband's philosophy. Though she didn’t have the power to stop the experiments, she did everything she could to protect Sanji from a childhood devoid of humanity. She taught him that strength wasn’t everything—that compassion and the desire to help others also had value.

She was the one who told him about the world beyond W.C.K.D, about what it meant to choose his own path.

Unlike her children, who grew up strong and efficient, Sora began to deteriorate. Her body, altered by Judge, couldn’t withstand the side effects of genetic manipulation. She weakened over time, growing more fragile each day until her illness became irreversible.

Sanji watched her fade, realizing that no one within the organization would help her. To them, his mother was just a failed experiment, a necessary sacrifice in their vision of progress.

As his mother slowly disappeared, his sister, Reiju, was the only one who supported him.

Reiju was different from their brothers. Though she had grown up under the same conditions, she wasn’t completely devoid of emotions. She understood Sanji’s pain, though she could never openly show it. When their father ignored his attempts to escape the imposed destiny, Reiju was the one who comforted him in silence.

When Sora died, Sanji felt like his last connection to humanity within W.C.K.D was lost. From then on, cooking became his only form of resistance. If he couldn’t change his fate, he could at least give it meaning.

In an environment where food was strictly controlled and rations were cold and impersonal, Sanji began to experiment with what he had available. He couldn’t change the system, but he could improve his own meals, find ways to make each dish have more flavor, more substance.

He sank into the routine of the facilities, trapped between his father’s contempt and W.C.K.D’s indifference. He didn’t expect to find anything beyond what cooking provided him in that place—until he met Luffy, Zoro, Nami, and Usopp.

There were no uncomfortable questions or analysis of his origins, just a natural acceptance that caught him off guard. Luffy included him effortlessly, as if he had always been there. Zoro didn’t demand explanations, simply acknowledging his presence. Nami, though cautious, didn’t treat him like an experiment. And Usopp, with his easy conversation, gave him something he hadn’t had in a long time—talk without expectations.

Without realizing it, Sanji stopped feeling like an error within W.C.K.D and began to see the possibility of something more. But someone else wasn’t very happy about those new connections.

Judge quickly noticed the change in Sanji. The bonds he had formed with Luffy and the others were a distraction—an obstacle to what he considered his children’s true purpose. He couldn’t allow emotional weakness to continue growing, so he took action.

Sanji was transferred to another section of the facilities, far from any influence that could soften him. The training there was brutal, designed to harden him, to erase any trace of empathy still left in him. He didn’t need friends, didn’t need attachments. He needed strength.

But no matter how much they tried to mold him, no matter how much they pushed him to become what his father wanted, Sanji never stopped clinging to what he had found.

Judge considered him a failure. He didn’t have his brothers’ efficiency, nor the mentality W.C.K.D demanded. Instead of eliminating him, he was relegated to lesser tasks within the facilities, ensuring that no one saw him as a legitimate Vinsmoke. To Judge, Sanji was nothing more than a mistake to be forgotten.

But Sanji refused to resign himself to that fate. He didn’t want to become just another tool of the system, a subject molded by his father’s vision. He wanted to escape. Not just for himself but for those who were still trapped. Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp—they all deserved something beyond W.C.K.D’s walls.

His plan wasn’t just to flee. It was to find a way out for everyone.

When the opportunity came, he escaped, leaving behind the facilities and everything he had known. He found refuge far from W.C.K.D, on the outskirts of the system, where he met Zeff, a former soldier of a rebel faction who had abandoned direct combat.

Zeff didn’t take in Sanji out of pity but because of what he saw in his skill. The boy didn’t just cook to survive—he did so with precision and intent, turning the bare minimum into something meaningful. His knowledge was instinctive, his technique refined by years inside W.C.K.D, where he had learned to make the most of every resource.

Beyond his skill, what truly convinced Zeff was the purpose behind each dish. Sanji didn’t cook just for himself—he cooked for others, understanding that feeding was more than just serving food. In him, Zeff saw a talent that didn’t need to be shaped.

Over the years, Sanji learned that pride wasn’t in brute strength but in standing firm in his principles. Despite everything W.C.K.D had tried to impose on him, he could still decide what he wanted his life to become.

But W.C.K.D doesn’t forget those who defy its control.

Sanji’s escape wasn’t just an act of rebellion—it was a crack in the system that the organization couldn’t ignore. For years, he had been dismissed as a failure, but his survival on the outskirts of W.C.K.D’s controlled world proved that his supposed failure had another side. He had escaped, and he had learned to live without them.

When they captured him, he wasn’t treated as a common prisoner. He was dragged back to the facilities with a clear purpose. They could no longer see him as worthless. Sanji had become an anomaly—someone who had rejected his father’s imposed destiny and found his own path.

And that posed a growing threat to the organization.

They couldn’t kill him, couldn’t discard him as a mistake. Sanji now represented an unknown—a possibility they had never accounted for in their model of human evolution.

Oh, and most importantly—Sanji was immune, so it was time to make use of that gift of evolution.

Arrival at The Glade

Sanji was escorted through the cold halls of the facilities, his footsteps echoing against the metal as they led him toward the destination he already knew—the Neutralizer. He knew what was coming, the relentless procedure that would erase everything that made him who he was, reducing him to just another subject in the Maze.

But before that, his father had something else planned.

Judge took him to a dark room, where illuminated screens displayed records of subjects across different sectors of The Glade and the Maze. At first, Sanji didn’t understand what he was seeing—until the faces began to appear one by one.

Luffy. Zoro. Nami. Usopp.

They were all there.

They had been sent without memories, just like the other experimental subjects, abandoned in a system designed to break them.

Judge watched his reaction carefully, waiting to see guilt settle in his expression. He spoke with cold precision, with that ruthless logic that had always defined his view of the world. Sanji had escaped, had achieved his longed-for freedom, while those who had once been his friends suffered in his absence.

For a moment, the world shrank to those screens—to the image of his friends struggling without knowing who they were, without remembering that they had once built something together. Fury mixed with helplessness, with the pain of knowing he had failed in the one thing he had promised to do—get them out.

Judge didn’t expect resistance. He didn’t believe Sanji had the strength to change his fate. But what he didn’t understand was that every word, every image projected in that room, only fueled something he had never managed to destroy in him.

They had sent them to the Maze. They were going to erase him just as they had erased them. But he accepted it because it meant he would be reunited with them.

Even if he no longer remembered who they were in the end.

Sanji opened his eyes and saw only darkness. The Box trembled, his body shifting slightly with the force of its ascent. His breathing was uneven, the tight space pressing against his chest—but the worst part was the emptiness in his mind.

It was happening again. Another subject without memories.

The Box opened. The Gladers welcomed him, asked his name, and though everything was confusing at first, he was able to remember his own name. At least that was some progress through the fog in his mind.

Between the tension in the air and the cautious glances of those who had already felt the weight of adversity, a silhouette moved forward with steady steps. Sanji didn’t enter The Glade as someone simply seeking to survive—his stride spoke of confidence, his posture of elegance, and his gaze of a fire that wouldn’t be extinguished easily.

From the very first moment, Sanji and Luffy understood each other effortlessly. There were no barriers, no need to build trust, because to Luffy, Sanji had already been part of the group from the instant he stepped into The Glade.

There was no resistance. Sanji never felt forced, never had to decide whether to trust or not. Luffy treated him as someone important from the start, and without realizing it, Sanji found himself at his side, as if he had always been there.

In The Glade, he found what he had needed all those years—a true family.

Cook

From the very first day in The Glade, Sanji felt that something was missing. He didn’t know what it was, had no memories of his past, but every time he saw trays of bland, basic food, something inside him stirred with frustration.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that while the food in The Glade was functional, it wasn’t satisfying. No one complained out loud because survival was the priority, but Sanji saw the tired faces, the hunger masked as acceptance, the routine that made eating just another unimportant part of the day.

Without thinking too much about it, he took the initiative. At first, he simply adjusted the ingredients, combining what little they had in different ways. He experimented with the limited resources available, searching for ways to improve what everyone had taken for granted.

The others started noticing the difference. It wasn’t just the taste—it was the way Sanji prepared the food. He didn’t do it as an obligation; he did it with care, as if even in a place designed to break them, they still deserved to enjoy what they ate.

He became The Glade’s cook. He became indispensable—not just for the meals but for the atmosphere he created around them.

From then on, whenever someone saw fire in the kitchen and heard the sound of utensils moving, they knew it was Sanji, making sure that, even for just a moment, they could forget where they were.

Extra Data:

He never eats standing up. He doesn’t know why, but the act of sitting down to eat feels essential to him. If someone tries to grab a quick meal without sitting, he immediately scolds them.

Zoro and Sanji have an unofficial competition about who is more useful in the Glade. Zoro insists his strength is essential, while Sanji argues that food keeps everyone energized—and so they spend most of their time arguing.

Though charming and polite, his patience runs thin when someone disrespects food. Once, he threatened to make someone eat only dried fruit for a week if they kept complaining without reason.

He treats everyone equally, sure, but Nami just happens to always get the first plate of food at every meal. It's a mere coincidence; it has nothing to do with his weakness for women.

[taradactyls]

Progress Update for Trying to Tread Water

Welp, we all got better, and then sick again within a week. So I didn't write enough to feel ready to post the chapter before illness got me. Pretty mildly, but fatigue is a big factor and when you combine that with caring for two toddlers... yeah.

So, below is a (largely unedited) sneak peak for you, of the chapter which has unintentionally turned into a little bit of a tour guide of the route from London to Derby.

I thought I would do a paragraph or two of the journey, but then I wanted to know a few villages I could name drop (the same way Jane Austen does with Oxford, Warwick, Kenilworth, etc in Pride and Prejudice) but that required research. Which led me into the research black hole. I ended up stitching together my own maps, comparing that to two or three other antique maps which focused on different information, plotting alternate routes, excessive use of the measuring tool in google maps, google street view, Wikipedia searches (why do so many villages list the amount of Indian restaurants they have??), and finally a four page document I made of each village they would pass through, with their distance, special features, etc. Most of it isn't relevant, but I needed to know it to feel that my writing had a solid foundation, and there was too much good stuff and potential scenes for me to be able to resist including some.

Here's the first glimpse of one of those locations I 'found' as I was doing this research. Dunstable Priory (with an image of it at the bottom).

They passed two more villages before the Dunstable Downs came into view, somewhat low as the road was, but Elizabeth did indeed reckon the walk to the top would be worth it. They resolved to undertake the climb, and explore Dunstable, the adjacent market town, for a considerable time. There was unlikely to be anything more enticing awaiting them in their final two stops for the day, so they had plenty of hours to spare.

At the inn where they were changing the horses, Elizabeth asked a maid within what might be seen around the village, and whether the downs were worth the exertion.

“There is the priory, if it please you ma’am. And the view from the hills is very fine. I have heard tell it is the highest point in this part of England, and indeed you can see farther in fine weather than I have ever travelled.”

Elizabeth settled it with Mr Darcy to climb the escarpment after their meal. While that was being prepared, they walked over to explore the church, which was considerably closer by and could be managed in a short time. It was far statelier than Elizabeth expected, with a very ancient façade which only grew more imposing the closer they got. Until, standing on the path sloping down from the doors and feeling entirely dwarfed by the ornate columns and pillars stretching many stories up to crenelations and yet a higher tower, she had to laugh. “I was expecting a country church,” said she. “I feel this place once might once have been of considerable importance.”

His brow furrowed slightly in thought, Mr Darcy mused “Yet there are many grand remnants of abbeys and priories about, after falling into ruin following the dissolution of the monasteries. Perhaps it was common for places of worship to be so impressive, and the only uncommon aspect is that it survived.”

“I will concede perhaps it once had more peers, and many larger, before so many other grand religious houses were lost. But I think it must have always been uncommon in its size and ornamentation. The sheer number of tiny country churches whose simple Norman bell towers cannot rival this surely show that.”

“They show this may never been considered modest, that is true,” Mr Darcy conceded. “But it does not necessarily follow that this particular priory had any great significance. It might have been rather average, or slightly above, for most of its life, until its fellows lost their roofs in the looting following Henry VIII’s decrees and his appropriation of the income which funded such splendour.”

Elizabeth turned to him with a smile. “I suppose I have not the knowledge to counter that fully” said she, “as we would need to compare it to a comprehensive list of everything that existed alongside it. But I cannot imagine something so impressive in appearance and preservation is irrelevant.”

“Luck, and relevance to the local people might be all that was needed to preserve it. Plenty of places of undisputed national importance have been lost,” countered Mr Darcy. “If there is anything significant about this particular priory, we might expect it to be an abbey, or have heard more about it.”

“If whole palaces and abbeys have been lost to ruin, I think it not unusual if we also lost the history of a place. It might still be important despite us knowing very little of it,” said Elizabeth empathically.

“One could claim the same of almost any hill in England – there have been ancient kingdoms and barrows enough to justify it.”

“Perhaps one would be right to do so! Maybe every mundane piece of earth we tread was once unfathomably important in a time immemorable.”

A faint smile came to the gentleman’s face. “You have a romantic’s heart, Mrs Darcy.”

“And just enough a mind for history to feel I can credibly support my claim,” rejoined Elizabeth.

“Not without leaning heavily on presumptions.”

“Do not forget, Mr Darcy,” she replied archly, “I have the liberty of being able to assert that a lack of evidence does not disprove my claim, since it hinges on such knowledge being lost. All the while being safe in the awareness that it is impossible to disapprove that a place has never been sacred in all the long years of the world.”

His smile seemed fonder, as he said “Ah, you are taking an unassailable and yet unprovable position.”

“Which is the cleverest stance to take” said Elizabeth, with sparkling eyes belying her serious tone, “if one never wishes to listen to anyone who disagrees with them.”

“And if they do not particularly care about being academic.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I cannot say being academic does matter to me; but listening to differing opinions and being open to changing my mind does. I should not seriously want to adopt such stances regularly.” Without her earlier jesting, she added “Truly though, there must be many locations forgotten. Between the Normans and the Saxons and Danes and Romans and all the Picts and the like who came before, if we overlaid all of their most important places atop one another I feel the isle would be fairly fully coloured.”

“Perhaps. But I think many of the sites would overlap,” said Mr Darcy thoughtfully. “Certain rivers and hills have attracted people for as long as people have existed to observe them. We cannot say the same for any random patch of dirt.”

“No, there may not be anything special about the dirt which draws people. But it only needs once to have been a hall, or a grave, or have been the location of a sacred tree, and then it has been important. Farmers in unremarkable fields are always finding old coins and shards of mosaic. Who is to say great things did not once happen on any random bit of soil?”

“No one living,” confirmed Mr Darcy. “But we have strayed far from the original premise of our conversation – and regardless of whether the soil its foundations descend into was once significant in ages past, that not does dictate whether this priory itself was ever particularly important beyond the local populace.”

“But we have established that it might have been, even though we have heard nothing of this priory before now,” replied she.

“Yes, which is to say that we established only that we know nothing at all and have no metrics by which to make fair assumptions.”

Apparently quite delighted by this ignorance, Elizabeth smiled, and leant against Mr Darcy. The familiar ground of their back-and-forth had done much for her in dispelling the anxiety treading the unfamiliar grounds a partiality for her husband had created. But before they could settle into their ignorance, one came along with the power to dispel it. The residing clergyman had perceived them from within, and, easily deducing them to be people of some importance on their way through, was eager to make their acquaintance and offer them a view of the interior.

They gratefully accepted, and as they were walking in Elizabeth said “Our first tour of a local church – we are proper travellers now, Mr Darcy.”

The gentleman made a slight noise of agreement. “In a place I have passed through dozens of times yet never truly explored. I have climbed the downs, but never investigated this priory.”

“Well, there you have it – something new for both of us on this journey.”

(To Be Continued in Chapter Forty)

The view Elizabeth and Darcy had of the priory:

A Wikipedia page for it here

[sarnai4]

Danae was reaching a small cave. She knocked on a wall of seaweed that had been enchanted to stay firm and in place to act as a door. After a couple of seconds, a woman with salt and pepper hair answered. She had neither a tail nor fins with webbing, but she had a warm smile she gave the younger Jiolan, and they hugged before Danae entered.

“I did not know you would be here today, but I am always glad to have a visit,” the resident said, audibly happy. 

Danae gave her a meaningful look and turned serious. “Ermi, do you know what I should do to help these Jiolans? Leonor and Demarion mentioned ideas for growth and Kostas just told me about how he wants to train the others.”

Hermia looked thoughtful and paused. “Why not implement those? Is the possibility of failure with change more threatening than the guarantee of destruction with stagnancy?” 

“They’re good ideas,” Danae agreed. “I can admit that, but I just don’t know if I can use them. I think everyone’s beginning to assume I hear none of what they say. I wish-it would be so much easier if…” 

Danae trailed off, her voice beginning to crack. She slid onto an open brain coral seat, resting on her elbows. Danae looked as destroyed as Hermia promised everything would be in the village. The Jiolan felt a doubly ringed hand as Hermia placed a comforting one on her shoulder. On her left hand, Hermia wore two rings, each with pearls in the center, but the one that was on her middle finger fit noticeably looser than the one on her ring finger. Hermia lifted her hand and regarded Danae, speaking again.

“Of course, there are always more options when we are willing to see them.”

Danae began to look hopeful again. “You really think there’s an alternative we haven’t figured out yet?” 

“I cannot think of a time in my life when such an issue had not occurred for a problem.”

Danae sat more upright, thinking deeply. She rose from the coral and began to swim around the home, contemplating deeper with each lap. Hermia avoided looking directly at her in order to not become dizzy. When Danae stopped, she had begun to make a cyclone moderately less intense than her previous one during her spar with Kostas. She noticed this as Hermia’s hair blew and she apologized.

“Is there anything keeping us here? There really isn’t, is there?” Danae asked with brighter eyes than when she entered. 

“It would depend on how you view that,” Hermia answered. “Some might have emotional attachments which keep them here and others might fear what lies out there.”

The mother tapped her fingers against each other. “At this point, none of us should really be that in love with Jiol.”

“Everyone has their reasons, Danae,” Hermia said, with a mildly chastising tone.

“True, but if it means that much to them, they can stay here. Anyone who wants to survive can come with us.” She frowned. “As for the monsters, we can still go up or down. I think going up would be safer for everyone. The tailed and unmutated Jiolans might struggle with the depths we would need to ensure the Patrollers never found us. If it came down to it, we could even fight the monsters.”

Hermia looked uncertain. “It would be quite the challenge to find Jiolans willing to fight them. If you decided to fight the Malvives or Teer…Tar…:”

“Terosses?” Danae offered.

“Yes,” Hermia said, a bit quickly. “Any of the four for that matter, you’d likely have only a small group of warriors.”

Danae thought about her words and paused again before another knock sounded on the seaweed.

“Want me to get it?” she asked. 

Hermia nodded and Danae went to answer. On the other side of the door was a thin Jiolan with a tail and white hair. She had a small pouch on the end of a strap wrapped around her shoulder and gave a wide smile when she saw Danae.

“This is a fun surprise! Is Ermi in there too?” she asked, peeking around her.

“Told you I would be, Claudia,” Hermia said, grinning.   

Danae went over to Hermia. “Thanks, Ermi. You’ve just helped me come up with something.” She began to close the door. “Bye, Ms. Claudia.” 

Claudia returned the farewell as the mother left. Facing the door, the newcomer went to the wall on her left. Under her breath, she said a spell that turned the inner side of the wall transparent so that she could see out but they would be invisible. The two watched as Danae got far away from the home, then Claudia clasped her hands together. 

“It took me some time,” she began, “but I was able to finally get a new spell made.” 

Claudia took out the pouch and released its contents. A small amount of sand poured out and into the water. She manipulated the sand into forming a ball. 

“I needed something to help direct the magic, so don’t you start fussing about the mess,” she explained.

Hermia made no complaints as Claudia began to chant. Her voice started out as quiet, nearly as whisper. Gradually, the Jiolan’s volume rose until she projected strongly, saying each word with more conviction than the last. Through her sorcery, the sand stretched long into lines and circled around Hermia. Lightly, the highest sand landed on the left center side of Hermia’s head. Claudia began to turn the beige sand a yellow, then orange, and finally a deep red. Hermia closed her eyes and only reopened them once she heard Claudia’s voice no longer. With hesitation, she looked at the tailed Jiolan. Equally hesitant, Claudia moved the sand away from Hermia and towards herself. She stared hard at it and began to form it into a box. Claudia whispered a spell into the shape and handed it to Hermia.

“Remember, when you hear this make a noise, tap the box.” Claudia said. “If this all worked, the jingle—which I find very pretty by the way—should get stuck in your head all day even once it’s been deactivated. When I come by tomorrow, you’ll be ready to throw this box at me, but at least it’ll mean it was a success,” she added, laughing.

“Thank you,” Hermia said, smiling as she accepted the sand box. “This means a lot.” 

Claudia’s expression became serious for a moment, then the twinkle returned to her eyes. “Always knew I was better at spells.” 

She struggled to contain a chuckle as Hermia shook her head and looked upwards. Hermia’s countenance changed when she glanced at the sorceress.

“Would you still be able to do your spells if we all left? Do you think you would be able to find everything you needed?” 

Claudia looked surprised. “Is that what Danae’s talking about? If she needs help with the Patrollers, all she’s got to do is find me. I try to stay on the lookout anyway.”

“I do not think it is only that,” Hermia commented, looking mournful. Her eyes met Claudia’s. “I just wanted you to be aware this might happen, so do not be too shocked if it does.”

Claudia puffed her cheeks and sighed, moving towards the transparent wall again. “Well, if any Jiolans could survive what’s out there, it’s us here.” Suddenly, the woman looked sheepish. “Not to say we would be the only possible survivors—”

“But it is likely,” Hermia conceded, using her eyes to ask Claudia to stop. 

She moved towards the coral seat and slowly sat. The Jiolan put a hand to her head and rubbed her temples. 

“If we are to survive, whether we are staying here or leaving, we will need some constructive changes…and quickly.”

Changing Waters: Jiol Amazon link (Typed out: https://a.co/d/aWxI6Ix)

Synopsis below:

What rests deep in the ocean? Mermaids? Monsters? Magic? All that and more.

Far below where any human can survive, there is a kingdom called Jiol. Kostas is a 14-year-old sorcerer who resides there with his mother and friends, but it is not their home. A home is filled with love, not fear and death. It is merely where they try to survive while the royal guards, the Patrollers, constantly raid the village. They kill anyone with tails, webbing, or fins—anyone who mutated for this underwater existence.

To protect innocent lives from the unending attacks, Kostas must get stronger even if this involves going behind his mother’s back. Training, sorcery, and seers are the villagers’ only hope against the Patrollers and a royal vizier who is as cruel as he is powerful. If Kostas cannot succeed as a protector of the village, Jiolans like him will be massacred to the point of extinction.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Round 3

Book summaries below:

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Among the ashes of a dying world, an agent of the Commandant finds a letter. It reads: Burn before reading. Thus begins an unlikely correspondence between two rival agents hellbent on securing the best possible future for their warring factions. Now, what began as a taunt, a battlefield boast, grows into something more. Something epic. Something romantic. Something that could change the past and the future.

Except the discovery of their bond would mean death for each of them. There's still a war going on, after all. And someone has to win that war.

Science fiction, time travel, multiverse, epistolary, adult

The Radiant Emperor series (She Who Became the Sun, He Who Drowned the World) by Shelley Parker-Chan

In a famine-stricken village on a dusty yellow plain, two children are given two fates. A boy, greatness. A girl, nothingness…

In 1345, China lies under harsh Mongol rule. For the starving peasants of the Central Plains, greatness is something found only in stories. When the Zhu family’s eighth-born son, Zhu Chongba, is given a fate of greatness, everyone is mystified as to how it will come to pass. The fate of nothingness received by the family’s clever and capable second daughter, on the other hand, is only as expected.

When a bandit attack orphans the two children, though, it is Zhu Chongba who succumbs to despair and dies. Desperate to escape her own fated death, the girl uses her brother’s identity to enter a monastery as a young male novice. There, propelled by her burning desire to survive, Zhu learns she is capable of doing whatever it takes, no matter how callous, to stay hidden from her fate.

After her sanctuary is destroyed for supporting the rebellion against Mongol rule, Zhu takes the chance to claim another future her brother’s abandoned greatness.

Fantasy, historical fiction, alternate history, epic fantasy, series, adult

[onlyhereforghosttrick]

Been getting hit with Aigiel Brain Blast so here I go rambling

Aigiel. What is there to say about her.

Well. She's got the inferiority complex to end all inferority complexes, and pushes herself to her limit because she thinks she can only be worthy of anything when she has something to give.

She can also hold a grudge like her life depends on it on demand. Like seriously- there is no canon event where she meets them, but in the Alternate Scenario where they return to the present prior to PMD2, her ass. Does not trust them [mainly Dusknoir] [understandably] and even in Survival AU, where she would theoretically survive to [and past] PSMD, she has to essentially reign herself in to stop her from mauling Dusknoir on the spot [Makoto did that job for her in the theoretical AS].

And then. There is the sun motifs. that I have already done a bit of a ramble on but I can maybe go more in-depth with it. but one very important thing to clarify first; Yes Aigiel has a sibling, a brother named Queth! [although he prefers Wave- found similarly to how Aigiel's name translates to Agate in a theoretical ancient language I was. not creative when making. We'll probably come back to this though]

Wave, if it wasn't clear, was also unsuccessful in evolving into Espeon- although instead of just. not being able to, like Aigiel, he accidentally evolved into a Flareon! because apparently sometimes mons just. leave fire stones on the ground randomly. As a result, he was also exlied. [Worth noting though- Wave was older than Aigiel, and also younger at the time.]

He wasn't as- I dunno, reliant? is that the right word?? on the existence of the Kiriens and their whole, thing to find his self-worth and what not, so while it stuck with him for a while, he'd be fine. He didn't have a narrow enough worldview that he couldn't see that he could embody the sun or whatever, if in a different way. [we will be getting to this in ~2 minutes don't mind me] So bottom line is, Wave would live.

Notice, however I said Wave would live. Not Aigiel. Because, you see.

Aigiel had, as alluded to in a prior addendum in this post, stayed within the Kirien tribe/family/whatnot thing for longer than Wave. And thusly. become [if not fully] more reliant on them for emotional response. You can probably see where this is going. [and if you can't. Hi! My name's Ghost. I have PMD little guys that I poke with angst knives for fun! You're going to have a great time here.]

And so. On that day... The evolution fails. She's unworthy. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough.

She manages to realize quickly enough going back after them after they leave, would Not be a very viable strategy. Although she's still kind of reeling from her whole life getting upended so. Give her some credit will ya?

And so, with a newly injured tail [a story ultimately irrelevant to our current topic], She wanders the continent for. Like. 8 months. While mainly sticking to forests and such [and avoiding mystery dungeons for. obvious reasons], she does occasionally approach a village or town... only to get too nervous and run away anyways.

It took a while for her to find Treasure Town, but when she did, she... took a while longer to build up the courage to let anyone know she was even there in the first place, just kinda... taking the place in Sharpedo Bluff and hoping that wouldn't somehow anger Arceus themselves just by existing.

From here, we can kind of ignore the main events of PMD2 and its main postgame. As much as I love the brutality of one thing in particular I added about the final fight, again, none of this is particularly relevant to the ultimate point. [You might say, "isn't this a ramble? since when is there a point?" to which I say, we're getting there.]

Let's skip to her evolving, because that's the thing that matters in particular for today. Not because of When she does it, or with/for Who she does it, but... What she evolves Into. Now, I know you might think, "Yeah, It's Umbreon, what does That matter?" but that's where the overthinking comes in.

Because you know how I mentioned her reliance / focus on the Kirien tribe? Well to her, in her mind blind to that which she could not get validation from [i.e. Makoto and Kiriens], the only way to finally get away from them was to be the exact opposite of everything they stood for... which worked well, until basically every time she looked in any kind of reflection, she was reminded of why she chose what she did.

This is where we come back to Wave. See, Wave was actually able to cope with this all surprisingly well- and now is when I'd like to get to the parallels [tm] between the two, of which there are Way too many. For one, the evolutions themselves, with Wave choosing to embrace the sun from a different angle whereas Aigiel turns away entirely. Then there are the names. And I don't know what it means to me, but the fact one chose their name for what it is and the other chose their name for what it was always supposed to mean means a lot to me somehow.

The worst part to me personally about her evolution though is. If she didn't feel entirely obligated to evolve to keep up with the strength expected from her in exploration, she likely never would've evolved herself, it was the need to push herself to be stronger that made her think it was necessary.

Anyways that's all for now thanks for coming to my yearly OC post

💥

[powerful-niya]

— (тнε gιяℓ ιη яε∂.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚hαppч nαruhínα mσnth єvєrчσnє!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟺: 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚘𝚘𝚍 + 𝚄𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 - (𝙽𝙷𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝟸𝟹)

Link To Oneshot Below ↴

Part 1: Wattpad|AO3

Part 2: Wattpad|AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡Naive and innocent, Hinata sets out on a selfless journey to aid her ailing father. However, she makes the mistake of crossing paths with Naruto, the big bad wolf.

Now, in his presence, she faces a daunting proposition: win his harrowing game of survival to return to her father, or lose, forfeiting something uniquely her own—her innocence.

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Adventure • Alternate Universe - Fairytale • Angst • Chilling • Dark • Dark Fairytale • Dark Romance • Dark Secrets • December 24 • December 25 • Forests • Heavy Angst • Horror • Human/Monster • Human/Werewolf • Hurt & Comfort • Monster • Nhmonth • Nhmonth23 • Non-human AU • OOC • Psychological Thriller • Red Riding Hood • Supernatural • Thriller • Urban Legends • Werewolf • 2023

NSFW Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚  Biting • Claiming • Coming Untouched • Coercion • Dirty Talk • DubCon • Fantasies & Fantasizing • First Time • Fuck-Or-Die • Forest Sex • Innocence • Loss of Virginity • Marking • Mating • Monster Sex • Multiple Orgasms • Oral Sex • Orgasm Denial • Outdoors Sex • Ownership • Power Play • Scent Kink • Scratching • Size Difference • Tail(s) • Vaginal Sex • Virgin • Werewolf Bites • Werewolf Mark • 2023

((For My Dark Readers Only))

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Part #1: 12.8K

Part #2: 19.3K

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚5.1K

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky with a rich palette of amber, gold, and crimson hues. Its waning light stretched long shadows across the dense foliage surrrounding a quaint little village. 

Accompanying the gentle sway of the trees was the soft caress of the breeze, carrying with it the earthy aroma of pine needles mingled with the damp, fertile scent of soil. 

A young woman strode briskly along a meandering trail branching off from the village behind her, her midnight blue hair trailing like ribbons in the steady wind as she walked. 

The woman?

Hinata Hyūga, the girl in red. 

The young woman, sweet as can be, wore a vibrant red cloak that flowed behind her, a gift from her dear late mother. Underneath, a white blouse with ruffles peeked out, paired with a swaying red skirt. Black fishnet stockings hugged her legs as she walked with grace in her Mary Jane pumps. 

Very picturesque. 

Hinata's steps were determined, moving steadily onward and upward, unfaltering even in the face of the whispered fears that hung in the air. She's been walking for quite some time, long enough for a dull ache to settle in her ankles and a persistent soreness to nag at her lower back. 

Still, she pressed forward.

She must. 

She had only one thing on her mind, and nothing else, propelling her to keep moving forward…

Her dear father: Hiashi Hyūga. 

He's fallen ill. 

An unfortunate turn of events.

In the early stages, his illness seemed rather mild, to say the least. Just an occasional cough here and there, nothing too alarming for Hinata. She brushed it off as a common seasonal nuisance, just his sensitive sinuses acting up again. 

So, she would make it a routine to brew her father a steaming cup of chamomile tea three times a day, meticulously steeping it to perfection. By his bedside, she would softly hum melodies she learned from her mother as she helped him drink the tea, all in hopes of soothing his cough and ushering him into a peaceful slumber.

At first, the tea seemed to do the trick.

However, as time passed, the soothing properties of the tea sadly began to lose their effectiveness. Before long, his symptoms began to worsen, escalating into something far more serious.

Pneumonia. 

His ailment turned into pneumonia. 

Hinata found that out on her own, having managed to piece it together from her father's symptoms—persistent coughing, difficulty breathing, and a stubborn fever that just wouldn't go down, no matter what she did. 

She tried everything to bring his many fevers down—cool compresses, damp cloths on his forehead, and even making him sip on ice-cold water or mint tea from time to time—but nothing seemed to work.

Her father was an old man, brittle and fragile. There was only so much that he could endure. 

As the days went by, her father's appearance grew more haggard and feeble, like a shell of who he once was. It pained Hinata to see him fading away, inching farther from his usual vibrant self. 

He hardly spoke, hardly laughed, and hardly smiled…

Each day, each hour, each minute, he battled with all of his might against the cruel pneumonia. But it seemed like it was gaining the upper hand more and more each day.

Hinata truly feared that he just might…

She shook her head, suppressing tears. She shouldn't think that way. 

It was this sense of urgency that drove Hinata forward, motivating her to hasten her return home with the supplies she had collected for him.

In her delicate hands, Hinata carried a woven basket brimming with vibrant vegetables, fruits, and an assortment of herbs and medicines—collected from the settlement a few miles away.

Konoha Village.

Hinata's father, Hiashi, resided in a charming cottage on the outskirts of Konoha village, nestled by a tranquil lake. His cottage, though old and weathered, had a cozy charm that was rather inviting. 

The quaint home was surrounded by blooming gardens and a cobblestone pathway, providing a peaceful sanctuary for him to live in peace. 

But his cottage wasn't just any place; it was Hinata's home as well. 

There, the two lived, accompanied only by one another. 

After the mysterious death of Hinata's mother, her father made the decision to leave Konoha. The memories of her and the village itself became too painful, a constant reminder that Hiashi simply couldn't bear.

So, they moved. 

That was many years ago, back when Hinata was just a child. 

But since then, Hinata has taken on the responsibility of looking after her father, especially now, as he lies sick in bed. 

She's grown pretty good at it, which just goes to show how much she learned from her mother. Her mother made sure Hinata could handle looking after both herself and her father on her own, and it's definitely paying off now.

Those teachings were priceless, worth more than gold itself.

And though her dear mother had passed away, Hinata found comfort in knowing that she was still with her; guiding her hands, and blessing her with patience and strength. The wisdom and love she instilled in Hinata were like permanent marks on her soul, destined to remain for as long as she lived. 

And so, no matter the challenges she faced, no matter how heavy the burden of her father's illness, Hinata managed to maintain her positivity. 

Her inner light remained undimmed.

Her radiance was so powerful that it seemed to push back against the encroaching darkness, even now, as she walked the trail all by her lonesome.

But as she walked, the hushed voices of the Konoha townsfolk echoed in her ears, refusing to fade away.

She couldn't shake them off.

The midnight blue-haired woman noticed, as she inhabited their lands, that they constantly spoke of a beast lurking in the nearby forest.

Their fearful gossip painted a picture of a fearsome predator, a freak of nature that had made the once-tranquil forest a place of dread. 

And as soon as word spread that Hinata planned to return home through this forest, the villagers became… 

agitated.

They pleaded with her to wait until morning, to stay safe in the village for the night before venturing near those dangerous woods or traveling at all, for that matter. 

But, Hinata stood firm, adamant.

"I've been away long enough," She had told them, sweetly and earnestly. 

"I can't bear the thought of anything happening to my father while I'm away. He needs these herbs, and I won't let fear keep me from him."  She also told them.

"Thank you for all of your concerns, but I must go. Please, wish me luck!"

However, thinking back on her own words now, Hinata couldn't seem to forget the image of the wide-eyed stares brimming with intense fear and concern etched on the faces of the villagers as she finished speaking. It lingered with her even as she turned away from them and left their gracious company and then village behind.

Little did she know, a touch of naivety tinted her determination.  

The village of Konoha had long battled with the mysterious beast, for several generations, in fact. Its existence was deeply embedded in the memories of its residents, intertwining with the essence of the village itself. 

Its claws dug deep. 

Whenever someone mentions Konoha, the stories of the forest-dwelling beast immediately come to mind soon after. Some dismiss it as an urban legend, while others see it as a cautionary tale passed from adults to children, who eagerly swap it like campfire stories whenever they get the chance.

People simply referred to the creature as "the beast" or even "the big bad wolf," depending on who you asked.

Nobody knew the beast's real name, where it came from, or what it looked like—just where it lived and what it did at night, specifically on nights of a full moon. 

According to the local lore, it was said that on full moon nights, a chilling wolf-like howl could be heard echoing through the forest and into the village. Farmers reported instances of discovering their chickens mauled and their crops raided. Some villagers even claimed to have seen claw marks on their doors, and others reported the disappearances of loved ones, or so the tale goes.

But none of that mattered to Hinata. 

Sure, Hinata had caught wind of rumors about this beast when she was younger but her parents always shielded her from such tales. 

"It's all nonsense," Her mother would always brush off when a teary Hinata sought comfort in her after being scared by the other children's tales of the beast.

Children could be quite scary, Hinata recalls how they would often use the tale to frighten other kids for a good laugh, presumably targeting her as well. They'd swap and switch details so often that Hinata couldn't distinguish fact from fiction anymore. 

That's why she felt it best to heed her mother's advice and ignore the tale altogether.

Though, she still made sure to stay as far away from that forest as humanly possible.

As time passed and Hinata eventually moved away from Konoha, the legend faded from her thoughts, becoming a distant memory. So hearing it again after so many years, Hinata couldn't help but take it with a grain of salt. To her now, the legend seemed more like a tactic to keep youngsters in check—a cautionary tale spun to prevent them from wandering too far and stumbling into trouble.

It was absurd. 

Hinata has no time for legends and myths. Her father's illness is her reality now, not some spooky ole beast, and she must reach him as quickly as possible.

And so, venturing through the forest will fulfill her wish.

With one hand, Hinata clutched a lantern, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows along the trail, guiding the way with its light. In the other hand, she tightly gripped her basket, finding comfort in its presence—a constant reminder of the purpose driving her to continue her journey. 

With each squeeze of the basket's handle, her father's image appeared in her mind: sick, bedridden, and sound asleep for days on end, his hand limp in hers.

She whimpered. 

'I'm on my way, father. I'm on my way.' She thought to herself, finding another surge of motivation. She trotted onward, each step she took resonating with a thud on the stoned pathway.

The chilly night breeze constantly whispered through the rustling trees, sending shivers of its cool touch through any openings in her clothing, such as her arms and legs, causing goosebumps to rise on her porcelain skin.

Hinata shuddered, her red hood steadily flying in the wind. 

While she traveled, the fading sunlight caught the glimmer in her lavender eyes—eyes that reflected only innocence and purity, unaffected by the darkness surrounding the tales of the lurking beast or, perhaps more notably, the harsh realities of the unforgiving world she lived in. 

Her kindness and determination were guiding lights for her, yet they also rendered her vulnerable to the ominous unknown that awaited her. 

Eventually, the trail led her to the entrance of the forest, where the ancient trees stood like silent sentinels. Their gnarled branches seemed to reach out at her like spectral fingers, casting eerie shadows on the ground by her feet. 

Immediately, Hinata's steps came to a sudden halt as she locked eyes with the looming forest. Her lantern and basket swayed due to her abrupt stop, her gaze transfixed on the eerie expanse ahead. 

Shallow breaths escaped her lips in quick succession, and her hands began to tremble.

This is it. 

The forest the villagers warned her about.

The urban legend, the tale of the beast—she never paid it any mind before. She outgrew that silly old tale, and it never made her shed another tear again. She wasn't scared of it anymore.

So, why was she feeling scared now?

Hinata couldn't tell if it was her instincts kicking in or the return of her childhood fears, but her body's peculiar reaction was unmistakable. She was trembling, shaken by the sight of the spooky forest that all of Konoha spoke about with such fear, now standing before her very eyes.

Tangible and real. 

Shakily, through the strands of her midnight-blue hair, Hinata raised her head and surveyed the eerie forest. 

Instantly, she realized the gravity of her situation. 

There were no other trails to consider, no detours, no shortcuts, and no hidden pathways to divert her from the ominous woods. The trail she had followed led her directly to the heart of the very forest that was said to dwell a beast. 

The forest stretched wide before her, its dense canopy casting shadows over the trail, which seemed to vanish into the darkness ahead.

Her heart began to race. 

Once again, the villagers' warnings echoed in her mind, a constant murmur urging her to retreat, turn away, and think twice about going any farther. The echoes just wouldn't quit, persistently nagging at her consciousness, like a chorus of annoying voices that just wouldn't go away.

But, her father….

Hinata's mind drifted back to her beloved father, who she knew was eagerly awaiting her return home. She knew he longed more than anything to see her walk through the door with a smile, bringing the supplies she had traveled far and wide to acquire.

It was at that moment, the fearful echoes of the villagers' pleads faded away.

Hinata exhaled a long breath in an attempt to calm the rising tide of anxiety within her. She even bit her lip nervously, gripping the handle of her basket tighter.

'You can do this, Hinata. You can do this!' She thought, once more trying to motivate herself.

Hinata knew she had to be brave, to summon strength from within the depths of her being to go on—for her father's sake.

She must.

So, with newfound determination, she steadied herself, taking a few more deep breaths before she planted her eyes back onto the spooky forest before her. 

She was ready. 

And with that, she summoned the courage needed to finally step into the darkness that lay ahead.

To enter the forest. 

The moment Hinata walked inside, a profound stillness descended around her like a heavy blanket, muffling even the slightest sound. The light that lingered behind her at the forest's entrance seemed to be instantly swallowed by the darkness within as she took a few more steps.

One step. Two steps.

The air seemed to shift, the pressure weighing her down and prickling at her skin like tangible dread.

Three steps. Four.

Above her, towering trees with branches covered in ancient moss loomed from all directions, their shadows stretching and swaying in the flickering light of her lantern.

The scent of damp pine grew stronger now, filling her nostrils with its earthy aroma, saturating the air all around her. 

Hinata's footsteps slowed, becoming cautious, as if the ground itself conspired with the looming shadows to keep her alert. With each step, she felt as if the ground might open up beneath her feet and drag her under, never to be seen or heard from again.

The path stretched ahead beneath her, shrouded in darkness so deep that even her lantern struggled to penetrate it, casting only a faint halo around her that the darkness seemed eager to swallow up. It called her onward into its endless black depths, demanding a courage she hadn't known she had.

Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribcage, aching with each beat, a sensation that felt suffocating and very unfamiliar to her. 

After all, panic, dread, and fear were never her friends, more like acquaintances she encountered every once in a blue moon in her otherwise normal life.

But now, she felt it all tenfold. 

Hinata had always prided herself on her composure, but here, surrounded by looming trees and engulfed in an oppressive silence broken only by the occasional rustle, she was beginning to crack.

The longer Hinata lingered within the forest, the tales of the lurking beast seemed to materialize all around her, like a ghost slowly encroaching upon her senses. They echoed in her mind and in every rustle and shadow. 

'Is it there?' She questioned in her mind as she heard a rustle of bushes to her left. 

'Was that it?' She questioned once more, as she heard another rustle behind her. 

Hinata shook her head, letting out a sigh.

She was being ridiculous. 

Glancing up hesitantly, her lavender eyes fixed on the twisted, moss-covered branches overhead. They snaked together like thick vines, blocking out the moonlight. 

She caught only glimpses of the sky, but even those revealed the truth: it was already night, which explains the darkness befalling the forest, swallowing it up whole. 

She squinted, barely catching sight of the full moon above. Its ethereal glow attempted to pierce through the dense foliage, but only succeeded in casting eerie shadows in the forest that only freaked her out even more. 

Hinata tore her gaze from the sky, fixing her eyes solely on the path ahead. Remaining alert in her surroundings was wise; after all, it wasn't just a scary ole beast that might roam these woods—other ordinary animals could be lurking as well. 

Predators. 

She raised her lantern higher. 

But that's when she began to notice something.

As she moved forward, the trail ahead became increasingly narrow, almost disappearing under the tangle of roots, dead leaves, and thick undergrowth. Hinata made sure to tread carefully, even stepping over the tangled obstacles, mindful to avoid tripping and risking a nasty fall.

That would be terrible.

She tightened her grip on her lantern and basket, drawing comfort from their warmth. But she struggled to steady her trembling breaths against the creeping unease that seemed to seep from the darkness itself.

Genuinely, Hinata was spooked. 

Goosebumps prickled her skin, making it feel like a million bugs were crawling across her flesh, all stirred up by the soft murmurings of the night wind.

It just made her feel even more isolated, like an eerie reminder that she was completely alone here.

Hoot! Hoot! 

Hinata shuddered, her senses rattled.  

Maybe not completely alone. 

She couldn't help but notice the distant hoot of an owl and the rustling of creatures in the bushes. She felt so silly thinking what she just did. 

The silence felt thick, disrupted only by the eerie sounds of the night: crickets chirping, frogs ribbiting, and owls hooting in the distance. 

Hinata strained her ears, half-expecting another unsettling noise to break the stillness. Her mind was buzzing, not at all helping her situation, with the villagers' warnings echoing louder in her mind, now than ever before.

Doubt flickered, like a wavering flame, her heart thudding like a drum.

But amidst it all, Hinata clung to the image of her father, frail and ill, relying on the supplies she carried.

So, she continued on. 

She proceeded on the path forward, taking one step at a time.

'Just stay on the path, Hinata. That's all you have to do.' She reassured herself, glancing at the familiar stoned trail beneath her feet, or at least the bits of trail that her light graciously illuminated. 

But no matter how close she huddled to her light, Hinata could not shake free from the unseen eyes watching her every move. 

Her eyes darted between the trees, catching glimpses of elusive shadows that seemed to retreat as soon as they caught her gaze.

She clutched her lantern tighter.  

Awooooo!

Abruptly, a distant howl of a wolf shattered the silence, disrupting Hinata's fragile calm. Startled, she leaped in fright, struggling to stifle her whimpers, but a few hushed squeaks escaped nonetheless.

The eerie cry echoed unnervingly close, as though it were just a few steps behind her, prompting her to instinctively whip her head in that direction. 

Yet, all she saw was darkness, a vast expanse of black. 

She aimed her lantern in that direction, only to see nothing, just more… trees.

Shivers ran down her spine, her sense of imminent danger heightening. 

But she kept on.

'Just a few more steps, I'm sure. The forest can't be that big, right?' Hinata attempted to reassure herself as she pressed forward on the path again, cutting through the forest with the vision that the clear path home lay just a few steps away. 

She wasn't sure how long or how far she had walked into the forest. Every tree looked identical, and the forest seemed to stretch on endlessly, making it impossible for her to identify the distance she had covered.

Branches creaked…

Leaves rustled…

But that's all there was—rustling.

No beast. 

No monstrous entity lurking in the shadows. 

Nothing.

'See, Hinata? The villagers were just overreacting. There's nothing to worry about.' She reassured herself yet again. 

But just as she convinced herself that the villagers were simply letting their fears get the best of them and that there was no beast, she was startled by a chilling surprise that shook her to her very core. 

A surprise that made her doubt everything. 

All of a sudden, she caught a sound—a haunting, guttural noise.

And it spoke to her. 

"I see you there, little one." 

It was a voice, other than her own. 

It was a deep, booming voice that shattered the silence, its words lingering like a sinister whisper long after spoken, chilling her to the bone. 

In an instant, Hinata found herself completely still, every part of her body, from her nerves to her bones, locked in place. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She couldn't even—

"I can smell you too." 

The voice spoke again, slicing through her panicked and scattered thoughts. Any notion that what she just heard was merely her imagination or a trick of her mind vanished completely, leaving her with the chilling reality of her fear.

"You don't belong here." 

The voice spoke once more.

"Tell me, what's a frail little thing like you doing here in my woods, huh?" 

The voice exuded a creepy mix of menace and curiosity, and it spoke like it was coming from all around her, as if the very trees themselves whispered such ominous words.

Hinata's heart began to hammer faster, thudding against her chest as if trying to escape. 

Every instinct screamed at her to run, to sprint back to the safety of Konoha village or if not that, find cover to escape the unseen menace that lurked in the shadows. But, her legs refused to respond, rooted to her spot, bound by an invisible force that held her captive.

She tightened her grip on her lantern and basket, seeking solace in their familiarity, but the chilling reality of her fear seemed to seep into her bones, draining her determination with each passing second. 

It's the beast. 

It's real and it can talk! 

It's alive, and out there—Lurking. 

Somewhere among the trees, it was hiding, waiting, and watching. 

Probably done so all along. 

It was the very beast that the people of Konoha feared, the one they had warned her about. It has finally revealed its presence. But it has done so in a way that brought upon a mass of terror upon her poor soul. 

"Aw, what's the matter? Cat's got your tongue, little one?"

This time, amusement tinged the beast's voice, and Hinata caught it instantly. But her mouth remained clamped shut, her voice stolen by the fear that gripped her.

The creature seemed to take pleasure in her silence, its tone becoming increasingly mocking.

"You're a surprising one, coming here. I'm not sure if you're brave or just…"

A menacing chuckle was made. 

"stupid." The beast finished, a taunting challenge that further tightened the knot of dread in Hinata's stomach.

The beast's words seemed to linger in the air, and Hinata found herself grappling with the urgency to respond, to defend her purpose for being there—right in the middle of the very domain it inhabited. 

A whimper escaped Hinata's lips as she glanced anxiously around.

"I-I apologize for d-disturbing you." Her voice cracked hard. It was like all the saliva in her mouth dried up, leaving her throat scratchy and parched. But she continued, kami, she didn't know how she did. 

"I-I'm merely delivering f-food and m-medicine to my f-father." She stammered, managing to maintain a fragile steadiness in her voice despite the trembling in her limbs.

"H-He's sick, and I m-must get to him as q-quickly as p-possible, please."

The forest seemed to hold its breath as she spoke, the ancient trees and whispering leaves hanging on to every word and gentle breath she uttered with eager attentiveness. 

Her purpose for venturing into the forest had been announced. 

Her soft voice had been revealed. 

It was like a melodic lullaby—her voice. It echoed timidly, carrying a soft cadence that seemed to harmonize with the natural rhythms of the forest, soothing the very leaves around her.

Her ears caught a low chuckle, almost a growl, rumbling through the air, echoing ominously among the shadows.

The unseen beast truly found the sound of Hinata's voice rather… captivating. 

It responded in turn.

"Your father, eh?"

Another menacing chuckle. 

"Let me get this straight."

The beast paused, as if it was thinking, before its voice arose again. 

"You've traveled all this way, wading through my territory, doing what many wouldn't dare, just to deliver supplies to your sick father?"

The beast's deep voice rumbled through the air like distant thunder, its tone laced with a genuine sense of confusion as it questioned her.

Hinata nodded shakily, as if the beast could see her response.

Her lavender eyes scanned her surroundings once more, her head whipping about, unable to pinpoint where the voice was. Sometimes it boomed from behind her, startlingly close; other times, it seemed to fade into the distance, only to return with an unsettling proximity. And it even seemed to whisper with an eerie clarity right beside her ear at times, sending shivers down her spine.

Hinata didn't know where the beast was; quite frankly, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to see it. 

Once more, the trees rustled in a mysterious dance of leaves, stirred by an unseen breeze, prompting her eyes to shift rapidly, whimpering. 

Soon after, the voice echoed through the silent forest once more.

"Mmm, what a devoted little thing you are. I must take a closer look."

Instantly, panic surged through Hinata the very moment those words left the beast's mouth. 

It felt like a threat, triggering a primal urge in her to flee. Her mind raced with the urge to run, hide, do something, but her body couldn't keep pace with what her mind was screaming at it.

Panic. 

That's all she felt. 

She was overwhelmed by panic—relentless, heedless of reason or necessity—just raw, clawing panic, gnawing at her insides.

Panic gripped her fiercely, its tendrils wrapping around her mind and squeezing tight. Her heart raced like a drumbeat, each thud echoing in her ears. Every breath came in short, shallow gasps, her chest tightening with each inhale. 

Hinata felt trapped in a suffocating embrace of fear, unable to think clearly as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

'Oh no. Oh no!' She repeated over and over in her head as she whipped her body around, trying to anticipate where the beast might reveal itself.

A hushed silence fell upon the forest, as though nature itself had fallen completely still. 

Frozen in time. 

No shuffles, no rustles, and no sign of life resonated through the entirety of the still forest, leaving Hinata wrapped in an eerie quiet that heightened her anxiety to the extremes. 

She began to hyperventilate. 

Hinata glanced around anxiously, scanning every direction—left, right, front, back, up, and down—hoping to catch a glimpse of the lurking creature before it leaped out at her, a preemptive move to spare herself a heart attack. 

But the forest remained eerily quiet.

And there was no sign or sound of the beast anywhere. 

Suddenly, a sensation washed over her, as if the very air had shifted—and in an instant, Hinata sensed a presence behind her, looming over her petite frame.

A warm breath gently brushed against her neck, causing every hair on her body to stand on end.

"Behind you."

The booming voice reverberated behind her once more, but this time, it was unmistakable.

It echoed directly into her left ear.

The realization struck her like a lightning bolt, causing Hinata's heart to race even faster, its beats resembling the fluttering wings of a hummingbird against her chest.

Ba Boom!

Ba Boom!

Ba Boom!

Hinata's body froze in place.

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see or hear. Was she still alive? Was she still here?

She wasn't sure.

In moments of fear, they say the body responds with fight or flight, but Hinata was currently experiencing the lesser-acknowledged third option.

Freeze.

It was a primal reaction her body had never felt before, muscles locking rigidly, breath held tight, senses hyper-alert.

Hinata hesitated hard, finding it difficult to accept that the real beast—the one feared by the villagers, the one that had spoken to her moments ago in the night's shadows, the same one even she was afraid of as a child—was now standing right behind her.

No one had ever seen it.

No one even knows what it looks like.

Yet, now it stood behind her.

Hinata couldn't even begin to imagine what the beast looked like. 

Her innocent mind couldn't conjure a clear image, only a chilling certainty that whatever stood behind her at this very moment would surely petrify her, plunging her into a pit of regret for even venturing into this forest. 

But, she gotta. 

She gotta turn around. 

Slowly, with trepidation, and a shaky, desperate "I-don't-want-to-die" whimper, she turned, shedding the cold chains of fear that gripped her. It took all of Hinata's strength to turn her body completely around, stretching her neck to face the beast head-on.

But when she did…

What she saw instantly spurred her to fight against the darkness that threatened to cloud her vision and plunge her completely unconscious to the ground behind her. 

She fought everything not to faint. 

Instead, Hinata jolted back, away from the hulking figure of darkness, stumbling over her pump heels. 

"O-Oh my kami. Oh k-k-kami!" She panicked with a scream, lips trembling, teeth chattering against one another. Her abrupt movement caused her lantern and basket to rattle in her clammy hands, nearly slipping from her grasp. 

But that was the least of her worries. 

There it stood, in the flesh. 

The beast. 

The big bad wolf. 

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— (⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆)

[tarithenurse]

Juniper

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing/starring: Geralt of Rivia x fem!reader, Roach Word count: 2414 Content: Description of wounds (some blood and gore), fluff, near-death experience, nakedness, smut. A/N: Less focus on smut this time but there is some because I know you're also thirsting for Geralt of Rivia too. Anyways, pls reblog and comment if you liked it.

Juniper

The storm is picking up, the white flakes that had at first fallen gently now battered by the winds and shaped into shards that threaten with piercing the skin if any had been exposed. Looking over his shoulder, Geralt feels sorry for Roach who has nothing except the saddle to protect him. Geralt himself is wrapped tightly in his cloak, heavy boots sinking deep into the snow that has piled up despite the wind.

He knows they are not far from a village...but finding it in this blizzard is going to be a tricky thing even for a Witcher. Alternatively, he could seek out a shelter and hunker down with Roach, wait out the worst of the storm before moving on.

Roach nudges him gently, the horse’s way of telling him to go on. That the beast is fine.

It’s at least an hour later when a sound makes Roach whinny softly as if uttering the dismay that Geralt feels because they know that sound: wolves. The howling is still distant in the east but then it’s echoed to the west and south and Geralt knows the animals are trying to herd him the only last direction: north. It’s where he’s headed anyways, but now he has a reason to second guess the aim.

Roach stomps nervously, carefully stepping closer to Geralt who pats him on the neck.

“I know, I know, you just want to hide out in a barn and munch on some hay...” he mumbles calmly to the horse while unsheathing one of his swords.

Another wolf howls, closer this time, and the Witcher begins to move again. On guard. But curious too. How desperate are these animals that they themselves have not decided to ride out the storm before hunting?

---

The light is fading, turning the otherwise white and grey world into increasingly oppressing shades of grey that soon will turn to darkness. The wolves are still herding the man in the same direction but they are getting closer – so close that he can see their shades among the trees. Low to the ground. Quiet for anyone but a Witcher.

Then there’s a sudden piercing how from up ahead, answered quickly and he watches in surprise as the wolves take off, seemingly having found a better prey than him.

But where Geralt relaxes somewhat, glad not to have to fight the beasts, Roach still seems on edge, pulling on the reins as if to usher Geralt along quicker. After the wolves.

“Don’t be such a ha-” the man begins only to be cut off by a scream.

It’s not the uttering of an animal or a monster. It’s human.

Fearing the worst, Geralt lunges forward as fast as he can through the snow, reins abandoned as he would want to keep Roach at a safe distance (the horse is smart enough to follow at its own pace). Reaching a wild dash, the man eventually reaches an area where the trees grow denser and some shrubs almost have created a shelter.

Around those shrubs are the wolves. Six of them, dark and lean and focused entirely on the figure wielding a thick branch.

She’s a beauty in her fury and desperation. Eyes gleaming, clothes already torn from one or more attacks from the beasts. She seems, as of yet, uninjured, though, and Geralt arches a brow because the odds of this young woman having survived for this long against a small pack of wolves are minuscule.

A wolf inches forward and the woman swings the branch but doesn’t manage to hit her intended target as another wolf leaps at her from behind.

White fangs tear through fabric and flesh, causing the woman to scream again. Still she doesn’t give up and she’s battering the wolf with her branch when Geralt’s sword fells the first beast.

It is a simple fight for the Witcher. One where he doesn’t even have to kill all the animals before the surviving three give up and run off. Presumably they will be back later for the carcasses – nothing can go to waste in the cold of winter – but for now there’s time to assess the damage.

“Are you hurt?” Geralt asks, turning to the woman.

She doesn’t answer, simply raises the branch, ready to strike again.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the Witcher explains patiently, knowing all too well the rumours surrounding his kind. “What are you doing out here on your own?”

Her gaze flicks to a bundle on the ground but still she doesn’t answer. Annoyed with the lack of communication, Geralt strides over and grabs the bundle, feeling a soft weight to it. He’s just about to open it, when he notices the sudden movement just in time to turn and grasp the branch before it impacts with his temple. Growling, he tears it from her grasp and tosses it into the flurry of snow and darkness.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead,” he growls. “Now talk, damnit.”

“I was gathering frost-juniper,” she declares hesitantly.

He arches a brow. Most people would find the berries worthless but some wise people know of their potency if plucked during frigid night – they can be brewed into a lethal poison. He might be a Witcher...but she’s a witch.

Looking her over again, he’s surprised by how hard it is to gauge her age. But he discovers something more troubling: an oozing wound.

“You’re bleeding.”

Already, crimson drops have melted through the snow where she stands, dripping via her fingertips from her upper arm.

Settling the bundle with frost-juniper down, he steps over and grabs her torn sleeve, yanking it off completely. If he’d expected a protest, he’s rewarded with silence instead. Only as he ties a tourniquet to stem the flow does she hiss in dismay.

“We need to find shelter...something better than some bushes. Are we far from your home?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “The village is just over the ridge,” she points, “there’s a stable for your horse when it appears if it can find you.”

“How’d -” he begins.

“You reek of horse.”

She picks up the bundle and motions for him to keep pace though truly she is the one struggling to keep up. Perhaps it’s the blood loss. Perhaps the fatigue after the confrontation with the wolves. Either way, Geralt eventually simply picks her up and carries her up over the ridge and down the other side where they indeed find the village.

“First house,” she explains.

Her voice is slurring and Geralt can’t help but feel a nagging concern.

House is a grand term. The buildings which stand apart from the rest of the village is no more than a hut and a tiny barn. Coming around to the front of the hut, he’s happy to see a faint light through the shuttered windows and when he pulls the door open, it is confirmed to him that there indeed are smouldering embers in the fireplace. Placing the woman in a chair by the only table, Geralt goes over and tosses a few logs on the fire before turning to face her.

She’s slumped, an unhealthy ashen sheen to her face. Now, it’s not for a Witcher to be confused, but it doesn’t add up. Only as Geralt is about to take off his thick leather gloves does he notice the heavy smear of blood on the one that had supported her thighs.

“Fuck.”

Kneeling before her, he pushes the skirts high around her waist, baring her thighs only to find a deep wound on the inside of one of them, bleeding slowly by now. He does not have all his gear with him, that he’d left behind with Roach, so now he has to hope that a witch has the appropriate remedies and bandages available.

It feels like precious time is slipping by before he’s found all he needs and can reclaim the seat by her feet. Large hands work with precision and skill. First bandaging the wound on the inner thigh, then the one on the upper arm. Then, to softly muttered protests, he undresses the woman to make sure there’s nothing else he’s missed before laying her in the bed. By then the fire is cracking merrily.

Stepping outside in the blizzard, Geralt whistles sharply, calling for Roach even though the clever horse might very well find him on its own. He also gathers more firewood and draws a bucket of snow to bring inside to melt.

---

Roach had showed up an hour after, clearly content with having had some alone time. From it’s saddlebags, Geralt had gotten his kit of potions, lining the contents up on a table.

Now he’s considering which of two to make the witch drink.

“W-water...plea-...” she mumbles and he obliges.

Supporting her as best as he can, he helps her down several glasses of water before she slumps back into the sleep of only those who have nearly succumbed are granted.

---

The Witcher has taken care of his horse. He’s cleaned the blood off floor and furniture as best as he can. He’s also cleaned his own gear.

Sitting with the feet by the fire, he is enjoying a glass of rum from a bottle he came across in the corner that is the kitchen.

The light has long since returned to the world but no one has come knocking for the woman. Maybe she’s more feared than loved despite her skills. Or because of them. There’s something recognizable about that.

The woman will live, of that he’s certain, and he could probably leave now...but something makes him stay.

“Thank you,” comes a soft whisper from the bed.

Turning to look, he sees a faint smile on the witch’s face. “You’re welcome.”

She pushes the covers aside, not caring or realizing that she’s naked, and steps out of the bed on wobbly legs. Kneeling beside the bed, she stretches an arm underneath it and pulls out a box of leather and metal. When she opens it, she only rummages briefly through the contents, creating clinks and jangles of glass and metal vials being jostled gently, before finding what she searches for.

“Here...as a payment.” She holds out a glass vial with a deep purple liquid.

Frost-juniper poison.

Taking it from her hand, Geralt nods. “I didn’t expect payment for this.”

“Then why are you still here?” There’s no animosity in her voice, it doesn’t seem like he’s overstayed his welcome merely that she’s curious.

“Hmm.” He shrugs. “It seemed...right.”

She cocks her head. “Have you eaten?”

He shakes his head. He really hadn’t thought that far yet.

Smiling gently, the witch nods. “Give me a moment, then.”

She sees to the few chickens and Roach after washing and dressing. Then she finds what she needs to cook up a warm broth which they both enjoy. She slowly begins to regain some lustre to her skin and even answers Geralt’s question about her trade which seems benign enough not to cause the Witcher any concern.

---

That night, they share the bed even though Geralt suggests he can sleep on the floor – she refuses to accept it. Their knees bump each other as they lie face to face in the narrow space. The light is dim as the fire is dying out but it’s enough for him to see how she studies his features with eyes that glimmer with curiosity.

Reaching out on a whim, Geralt runs a finger along her jawline, tracing the structure gently and making her sigh as she leans into his touch. Lips part, almost expectantly, and he feels compelled to find them with his own mouth, savouring the softness and the sweet tang from the honey that she apparently likes to put in the tea.

Lifting up on an elbow, he allows his hand to drift, tracing patterns along her throat and shoulder, the side that dips like a valley at the waist. There, following the line of the hipbone, Geralt’s fingers dance to the apex of her thighs and is more than delighted to find her lifting a leg to accommodate his explorations.

Carefully, he coaxes her on to her back, allowing him to settle between he legs. The covers are now discarded, revealing her shape as if for the first time and he drinks it in. What a sight!

She sighs, when he kisses her mound. Whimpers, when he flicks at the pearl with his tongue. Groans, when he fully dives in, licking and suckling to his heart’s content. Her fingers find their way to his hair, pulling at the strands or nails scraping tantalizing against the scalp to guide him.

“Please,” she begs, “undress.”

Geralt has indeed been keeping his breeches on but he’s more than happy to discard them, revealing a hard erection that she almost hungrily stares at before scooting further down the bed and motioning for him to kneel by her head. She guides him into place and Geralt is quick to see the benefit as they both will be able to please the other at the same time, head to cock and head to cunt.

It feels heavenly when she licks at his crown before taking the tip in. It’s all he can do to focus on his own ministrations and so he increases his effort, wanting to outmatch her in skill and he might have succeeded were it not for the moment when she start to take him deeper.

Looking up her body, he can see how her cheeks are hollowed and each time her throat bobs, it tightens around his cock.

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

“Hmmm?”

The vibrations of the sound go straight to his balls which tighten.

Not yet! Like in a frenzy, he smothers her cunt with attention and soon he has her writing beneath him and her own attention seems to be falling short.

He makes her cum first, allowing him to feel with his fingers how she clenches around too little, hips bucking against a bruising hold. But Geralt’s not far after, seeing white as he pumps into her tight throat.

That night they sleep forehead to forehead, fingers intertwined.

---

He ends up staying two more days. That’s how long it takes for the storm to settle and for the woman to recover her strength completely. When he does leave, it’s with the promise of returning with the spring. It’s a promise he wants to uphold.

[andaniellight]

Nine books that I— have been putting on hold since forever— want to read/finish in 2025

in no particular order:

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi (1)

The Radiant Emperor Duology (2)

Cinder (1)

The Sword of Kaigen (1)

Babel (1)

The Biology of Human Survival: Life and Death in Extreme Environments (1)

A Reaper At The Gates (1)

Gideon The Ninth (1)

More about the books below because, mainly, the summaries are spot on (and kind of represent my taste / why I'm terribly intrigued to read them):

✨️🧋🥡📖✨️

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by S. A. Chakraborty

Amina Al-Sirafi is a middle-aged single mother with bad knees who lives in a modest country house and minds her own business. She was also one of the most fearsome pirates who ever sailed the Indian Ocean, at least until strange magic claimed a beloved crewmember and drove her to retire on dry land.

2023 historical fantasy.

—

The Radiant Emperor Duology by Shelley Parker-Chan

She Who Became The Sun

Set in an alternate China, She Who Became the Sun is a fascinating genderqueer retelling of the founding of the Ming dynasty, follows Zhu Chongba who had to become a monk even though she's only a little girl for her survival, from childhood to early adulthood, using her dead brother's identity, fighting to claim his destiny as her own.

2021 historical fantasy.

&

The sequel: He Who Drowned The World

Got the hardcopy as a birthday present for me because I couldn't stop yapping about it to my friend 🥹🥹🥹

—

Cinder by Marissa Meyer

Cinder is a cyborg mechanic living in New Beijing who, along with her best friend (a robot named Iko) and sister (a fully human gal named Pearl), fall in love with Prince Kai. But, life isn't all cleaning and singing, there's a ravaging plague and crippling poverty. The plague can strike anyone at any time.

2012. Part of The Lunar Chronicles.

—

The Sword of Kaigen: A Theonite War Story by M. L. Wang

Better to die sharp in war than rust through a time of peace. A mother struggling to repress her violent past;

A son struggling to grasp his violent future;

A father blind to the danger that threatens them all.

When the winds of war reach their peninsula, will the Matsuda family have the strength to defend their empire? Or will they tear each other apart before the true enemies even reach their shores? High on a mountainside at the edge of the Kaigenese Empire live the most powerful warriors in the world, superhumans capable of raising the sea and wielding blades of ice. For hundreds of years, the fighters of the Kusanagi Peninsula have held the Empire's enemies at bay, earning their frozen spit of land the name 'The Sword of Kaigen.'

Set on the planet Duna, on Mount Takayubi in the Kaigenese Empire, the story revolves around the populace of a remote, highly patriarchal village that, for generations, has raised and trained swordsmen with magical, almost supernatural abilities to fight enemies that invade the realm.

—

Babel by R. F. Kuang

Robin Swift, orphaned by cholera in Canton, is brought to London by the mysterious Professor Lovell. There, he trains for years in Latin, Ancient Greek, and Chinese, all in preparation for the day he'll enroll in Oxford University's prestigious Royal Institute of Translation—also known as Babel.

Babel take place in an alternative-reality in which Britain's global economic and colonial supremacy are fueled by the use of magical silver bars.

—

The Biology of Human Survival: Life and Death in Extreme Environments

Solely for writing reference since I am a deprived and amateur writer first, human second, after all.

—

A Reaper at The Gates by Sabaa Tahir

3rd book of Ember Quartet. To understand this, you must read its 1st book: An Ember in The Ashes (inspired by Ancient Rome, the story follows a girl named Laia spying for rebels against the reigning empire in exchange for their help in rescuing her captive brother; and a boy named Elias struggling to free himself from being an enforcer of a tyrannical regime.)

—

Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

1st book of The Locked Tomb Series. Brought up by unfriendly, ossifying nuns, ancient retainers, and countless skeletons, Gideon is ready to abandon a life of servitude and an afterlife as a reanimated corpse. 

That would be all! Thank you so much for tagging me, @kanronotatsu ! ! ! 📚🔍

Fingers crosed I get to at least finish one or two, this year. Now, I shall tag my friends @ikjun @dykealloy @reineyday @radiashen @lunaticus @beguilewritesstuff and YOU, whoever is reading this, are also welcome to share it with us ! ! ! :D

[softskiesahead]

u should totttally infodump abt yr genshin self insert hehehe 😼😼😼😼

ohhhh…..you’ve got it…………..

welcome to aya genshin brainrot !! ^^;;; i'm sorry this took a few days...i kept coming up with more i wanted to add!! hoping to make some new references for her soon as well <3

the basics:

name: mira fournier

rarity: 4 star

weapon: catalyst

vision: hydro, snezhnaya frame

alternate titles: “young lady painter of fontaine” “miss painter” (By lyney), “the magician’s rabbit” 

nation: fontaine

affliations: fournier patisserie

special dish: coffee bavarois

constellation name: leporis somnium ("rabbit's dream")

introduction + personality:

(written in the style of the wiki pages because i'm unwell)

Mira Fournier is a playable hydro character in Genshin Impact. 

She is a well known painter in Fontaine and is popular with the upper class families in the nation. She lives with the motherly owner of a Fontinian bakery and assists with the business often.

A generally reserved and gloomy girl, Mira has a reputation as a talented but eccentric artist. Though she is popular with many wealthy Fontinians, Mira seems to hold a certain hostility against nobility, some stories telling how she has abandoned projects after witnessing the mistreatment of noble’s staff. 

Around children and those she is close to, Mira has a soft, dreamy disposition and is very sensitive to the feelings of those around her. She tends to create her own fantasies and observes mundane small things she finds lovely. Due to this, other characters commonly perceive her as “spacey”.  She is fiercely protective of children and respects those who are similarly caring for them or those with close relationships with their siblings.

in terms of backstory, things are still a bit all over the place but there is a lot there!! she's surely the most tragic of my s/is...common theme I saw when reading other characters stories ^^;;

mira was born to two artisans of a snezhnayan village which became entangled in a conflict with the fatui. since she was quite young (7 or 8), mira does not remember the details of the conflict or really much about snezhnaya at all. however, the conflict escalated and resulted in the small village being burnt down, the destruction killing her parents and brother while mira fled into the snow with her younger sister. struggling to escape and keep warm in the brutal snezhnayan cold, the children were eventually found by the fatui, including arlecchino. when found, mira was close to death, trying to keep her sister's body warm although it was far too late to save her. this is how she gains her vision, which she grows to resent due to how it was gained, but also depend on as a skill to survive.

taken to the house of the hearth, mira's fear of arlecchino, hatred for the fatui and...catatonic state after her experience made it impossible for her to thrive within the house. unlike most children there, she was not saved from anything and found no motivation (except fear) to conform to their expectations.

this is where mira first meets lyney, lynette and freminet. during her short stint in the house, they become the only children she interacts with. when lynette comments on her vision, saying how she wishes she had one too, mira attempts to give it to her, stating "I don't want it."

because of her refusal to cooperate, she is taken from the house as a part of an allyship deal with a prominent fontinian noble family who wants "companions" with special talents or visions for their son. she lives with this family and other "companians" for 4 years, when the court of fontaine investigates the death of several of the other children acquired as "companians" and discovers that not only are the children not recorded as fontinian citizens and have no adoption records, but they are also being mistreated and "borrowed" by various noble families due to their talents (such as mira's painting)

the head of the household is imprisoned for these crimes and the remaining children are legally adopted by fontinian citizens. mira is placed with the owner of "fournier patisserie" and her family. she becomes very close with them and with their support, begins taking commissions within fontaine and building her artistic reputation. during this time, she also befriends chiori, who she regards as a "fellow artistic spirit".

mira was reunited with lyney and lynette two years after her placement in the court of fontaine. despite only knowing them for a short while in the house of the hearth, mira still considers them like close childhood friends. they quickly reconnected and those around mira comment that she has become much more cheerful since those twins started hanging around her...