#and also I’m like the state of the world could be in disarray for all we know

[avifaunaa]

how the world spins without you [ n.r. ] [ p.3 ]

Authors Note: Welcome to the third installment to this series! To be honest with you guys I’m not entirely sure how long this series will be — I know it will have at least two more parts but after that it’s a guessing game. I hope you like it! Also like — remember when I said it’ll get softer? Yeah. Uh. That’s pushed back a chapter or two. Uh.

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s been a year and a half altogether since your hiring at Stark industries and just a little over two years in which your relationship with Natasha began. However one of Natasha's old enemies resurfaces and plans on striking where it hurts the worst -- and it draws back memories for both Reader and Natasha and forces them to confront their fears.

Content Warnings: the fluff and angst that comes with this series but added in — stalking and discussions of a stalker, general feelings of discomfort and anguish, some splashes of BRIEF humor, arguments, brief violence and a cliffhanger

Word Count: ~5.2K

Breakfast was the most entertaining meal at the Avengers Compound in New York.

You say this with assured confidence and know-how because, at precisely 8:30 A.M. after FRIDAY has managed to set off the universal alarm that can’t be turned off thanks to Tony’s masterkey password being required, you see Earth’s Mightiest Heroes all clamber into the kitchen in differing states of wake and dress.

Steve Rogers for example — he always was dressed in his training uniform and bright-eyed as he greeted you and Nat by the coffee pot.

“He’s always awake by five at the latest,” your girlfriend mumbled around greasy bacon later when she caught you eyeing him suspiciously, “Why do you think Grandpa goes to bed at eight?”

Steve sipped his coffee and peered at Natasha with this sort of bemused expression, as if this was all to common of a comment made. “Early bird gets the worm, Nat.”

You could have sworn Natasha’s eyelid twitched but made the incredibly wise choice to leave it alone and instead refilled her coffee for her — a third cup, black, in less than twenty minutes. She only took her coffee one way at the Compound.

Tony was in a state of frazzled disarray likely brought on by too much caffeine and not enough sleep — a state in which you’ve experienced a few times since coming to work for him when Nat wasn’t around to stop it. Pepper was nearby and dressed in her finest pantsuit, hair done and makeup perfect as she dangled a tie from her wrist.

“Tony,” she called as her husband stole bacon from Clint’s plate and added it to his despite having some already. The man was in a rush, probably to get to his lab. “Tony stop. Your schedule is clear today until eleven. You have that board meeting with . . .”

The words faded out from listening point as Pepper followed Tony, eyes to the ceiling as she guided him to his office instead of the lab like initially planned.

“He stole my bacon.”

Your gaze then turned to the forlorn source of the words. Clint usually never stayed overnight at the Compound these days — he settled well with his family into the farm even after he was pardoned. He hung out with Natasha until the early hours in the morning — doing whatever it is the two do to bond.

Natasha had smelt of bonfire and whiskey when she returned, so you suspected they’d not gone very far at all.

He was in a large t-shirt and his boxers, eyes staring at the grease stains left behind where his bacon once was.

“My bacon,” he repeated, frowning.

Natasha deliberately crunched hard into one of her slices from where she sat between you and him without so much as turning her head to look at him.

You elbowed the ombré-haired spy in the flank, causing her to cough mid-swallow. “Serves you right,” you said as you leaned backwards and swiped some bacon from your plate and threw it on Clint’s behind Natasha.

“You’re evil,” she rasped rubbing at her upper chest and eyeing you. “I was just eating my breakfast.”

“Okay, sure,” you agreed in the tone that clearly reflected your opposite view, but you flashed her a teasing smirk to soften the blow as she scoffed at Clint digging into his gifted bacon.

“How do we turn off the eight o’clock alarm?” Sam asked as he shuffled tiredly in, Bucky right behind him. “I had to beat the shit out of some sorely underarmed terrorists yesterday and I didn’t appreciate having my well-earned sleep disrupted.”

Bucky grunted and shimmied around the man to cross around the counter and look at what was served this morning. He ignored the bacon, had browns, and fruit and chucked three spoonfuls of eggs onto his plate before exiting.

“Eggs only? What the fuck?” You said without really meaning to, mostly because that was a lot of eggs when there was other options offered.

“We listen, we don’t judge,” Clint said as he brandished his now empty plate and removed himself from his spot next to Nat.

You knew the words in which he mimicked from a trend and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Why are you on TikTok? You’re too old for that, it’ll rot your brain,” you replied as you shoved your empty plate toward him too. He scowled at you but took it as if offended.

“My children,” he said in a way that implied it explained everything. “They want to get TikTok famous by showing me on their little videos. Do you realize how many messages my twelve year old has gotten about whether or not I’m still married?”

“Snipe them,” Natasha told him simply, obviously, “and then delete their accounts.”

“The — the weirdos or my kids?”

Natasha smirked at him.

Clint sighed heavily even as you tried to elbow Natasha again. But she seemed ready for such an act and grabbed you in a gentle but firm headlock and leaned her head down, grasping your chin, “You’re being bratty.”

You smiled at her to disguise the fact that you could feel your cheeks heating up at her intense gaze. She didn’t prod at you though, simply offered a peck and released you before getting to her feet. “Clint — I think I want to beat the hell out of you before you go home today.”

Clint sighed again. “Yes, Natasha.”

You were left with Sam and Steve — the two on complete opposite ends of the “awake” spectrum as you cleaned up the countertops you, Nat, and Clint used.

“We should go running,” Steve finally said, gesturing to Sam.

The Falcon in all his honor and glory slammed his coffee cup down and flipped Steve off — who in turn managed the most offended look you’ve ever seen.

“You’re buzzing.”

It was a short form sentence that you believed was intended not at you — maybe at Bruce who had joined you and Tony in the lab today after Tony had finished his meetings.

You let the comment slip away into the music that filtered through the overhead surround-sound system that Tony showed you once on the giant hologram control panel.

It’s taken you six months to completely figure out the settings for the music, you still have trouble pulling up detailed blueprints you upload into it via Friday sometimes.

Your degree was absolutely worthless in those moments, but even Tony waved you off and admitted to designing the panel and system himself and thus it doesn’t work in the way most technology of this caliber would.

It did make you feel better, admittingly.

The music suddenly cut off in the middle of the best part and you twitched, your hand-held laser machine cutting a heated indent into the machinery you were working on.

“Kid,” Tony said behind you when you stared longingly at the ruined metal as steam poured from the red-hot wound. “You’re literally buzzing.” He poked you where your phone was in your white jacket’s pocket.

“Oh. Oh shit.” You sit the laser down and fumble as Tony backs away with some sort of gun looking object swinging dangerously loose in his hand. “Sorry, Tony.”

He made a pew pew noise at you as he sauntered back to Bruce [ who was too ingrained in his work to care ], and responded, “Next time it happens, I take fifty bucks from your paycheck.”

“I’ll sic Natasha on you,” you threatened as you swiped up on your screen to see why your phone was blowing up in the first place.

If Tony had cracked back at you, it went upon deaf ears. The insistent nudging was a barrage of text messages sent from a contact labeled UNKNOWN with no phone number available when you checked.

You were mostly confused initially — you rarely got messages unless it was from Kate and Yelena, Natasha when she wasn’t with you and not on a mission. Even your number was scarcely used by the members of the Compound after you’ve given it to them. They preferred to speak through FRIDAY most days.

The contents of the first ten texts were photos and that is what had your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach as you scrolled down each one.

They were of you — and Natasha together sometimes — but mostly of you. Leaving the Compound, going on dates with Nat, they even have one of you two exiting the shelter with the new scruffy white kitten in your arms. You were beaming in the photo, completely oblivious to the eyes on you from a distance.

So was Natasha.

It made you think . . . Natasha was the most observant person you knew. She would switch sides with you on the sidewalk if she felt like there was something about to go wrong. Sometimes she was right [ Peter came crashing into the windshield of a car while the Green Goblin attacked him. Not even the suit Tony made him was holding up against this menace! ] and would get you to safety before joining in the fray.

But this time . . . This time each photo was taken she was completely unaware which made you wonder how well this person was at hiding among the crowd.

It scared you. You were scared and you only realized this when the photos started becoming hard to stare at as your hands shook under your phone.

You glanced behind you quickly but was relieved to see Tony and Bruce back in their own worlds amongst the technology.

You swiped down more and found no more photos, but actual texts.

The Widow cannot run from her past forever.

It will consume her like ashes over the world and once he has you, she will never again know the meaning of peace and her mind will never rest.

Happy hunting.

Three text messages all to the point -- and very matter-of-fact. Like whoever sent them knew they weren't going to be concerned about threatening a former assassin's girlfriend.

You swallowed the thick lump that shot up to your throat and decided to be logical about this. You emailed the texts to Natasha and hoped she checked it before you came home to your shared rooms that night.

Telling her could end in just as an easy disaster as keeping them from her. In the two years total you have known Nat, something she had made explicitly clear to you more than once is that any threats you get may not be as simple as an internet troll looking to ruffle some feathers.

This had been made entirely too clear when a close call had occurred right after you got hired by Stark and still lived in your own place. It had shaken both you and Natasha out of the feeling of unbreakable bliss.

She had found you a few days after the incident itself, slipping you a glass of wine while she sat an ice cold beer down on the coffee table untouched but open.

For a while the television was the only company you both kept -- then:

"I am . . . I have been meaning to talk more in depth with you about what it means to be with someone like me," Nat finally said leaning forward to grab the beer. It left rivulets of condensation on the glass table. "But I figured when . . . there's been a lot."

You paused the show you were not really watching to really show her you were listening. "You've told me what it means," you replied, not unkind but confused. The wine dangled half-drank in one hand. "We discussed it and I have had meetings with Pepper about--"

"No, Malysh," Natasha interrupts firmly. You took a second to take her in, the way she spoke and how . . . unsettled she was.

She clenched the bottle's neck so tightly she could break it if she wanted to. Her hair was still pulled up and windswept from returning from what she claimed was statements on your behalf to the court about the incident.

She hadn't wanted you near the damn thing -- and at the time you had let her take over with a fierce protectiveness and be your wall, your rock to lean on. You weren't harmed, but you had felt so violated and paranoid for days after that it was enough to leave a scar.

"What that was," she finally said, voice softening but filled with a pain that you could not describe, "that wasn't . . . that wasn't the worst of what could happen to people that get close top-leveled people like me, or Steve, or Tony. For me in particular, I have made twice as many enemies as most of the others have. My first life in Russia as their Widow and assassin and then my second chance here -- as an Agent of the U.S. government and a hero in the public eye."

You took a big gulp of your wine to hide your features shifting with your emotions. You still remember his face showing up at your door, forcing his way in, his breath hot and wet in your face --

"That man -- he wasn't one of those you said," you managed around the rim of the glass, sending a worried glance her way from a few feet away as you regained control of yourself. "You said that he -- he was someone who fit closer to the criteria of crazed fans."

"I did," she agreed. Her shoulders remained tight as she leaned back against the couch. "And that remains true. But we looked closely into what he had you read in front of him before sending it to me. The writing was in blood and there were some things contained in those letters that only could have been known if he was watching you and me together long enough."

The way he licked his lips, those beady eyes gleaming with anticipation as you opened the envelopes one-by-one and read each fucking letter.

Another swallow of wine and you locked away the memory and trauma that came with it.

"Yeah, well, he's probably enjoying life at Rikers instead."

"He didn't go to Rikers."

This made you pause again. Unable to hide your confusion or any other emotion -- your wine glass was empty. Instead you placed it tenderly on the side table and found another focus: Liho and Swayze swatting at one another in their cat tree,

"What do you mean," you said shakily after finding your voice, eyes locking with your girlfriend's, "he didn't go to Rikers? Where the fuck is he? Floating in space? Lost in the system? Do we even know if he's still imprisoned?"

You hadn't meant to be so sharp, nor did you intend to throw the accusatory tone at her in the same sentence. But your heart was racing faster than you could think which meant you couldn't think.

Natasha suddenly scooted closer to you and raised her hand in offer. You regard her for a moment but know you'd give in and need her touch. You link fingers with her and the warmth of her is like a coat of salve on a endlessly painful wound.

"He," she began as she settled into your side, finding her words, ". . . Do you remember when I brought you by before you got hired here? It was a short stay and you met Happy and Pepper. They had paperwork."

"I was on spring break," you acknowledge, nodding. You were in and out before you got a good look at anything, really, so you didn't consider it your first time at the Compound.

"Right. I told you everything we were having you sign," the Widow continued as her free hand started to trace designs lightly into the skin of your arm, "It was an NDA and paperwork that went with it in regards to the government bullshit."

You were still an anxious mess but you tried to draw some humor from what you could remember feeling about the situation. You sent Nat a weak smile, "Sure. Every time I signed my name on a line I felt like I was slowly giving pieces of my soul away to the government just so I could get into your pants and hold your hand." You let a pause fill the air for dramatics. "So worth it."

Her eyebrows shot into your hairline, perhaps impressed by your bold statement but snorting. "I see what I am to you." She stops to press the softest of kisses to your head, as if to soften a blow about to land, "So that NDA. It was in all that heavy packeted wording, but when you agreed to it the government, in turn, agreed to essentially view you as a protected asset under listed circumstances."

She let you mull over words for a moment and you tapped your fingers against the armrest. Maybe you should have read deeper than you actually did.

"What I'm getting from this is that I'm sort of . . . I'm sort of under some special security or whatever?"

"Kind of," Natasha agrees, fingers finally coming to a rest on your pulse. "After we did the required background check and got the paperwork squared away it pretty much meant that you became important to keep from any particular . . . attention. We did what we do with anyone who either works with our agency or is associated with us in some way -- we put a security AI detail on your name and information so that it can alert us if any of that is sought out and leaked. It became confidential the minute you signed and hiding it draws curious eyes on top of seeing me out with you more often."

"So my private information was pretty much zapped out of all existence and anything under my name is watched?"

Natasha nods. "Right."

"Okay," you drew out, scratching behind your ear. "This doesn't . . . what happened that made the dude find out who I was?"

"He didn't use the methods that most of these people do, he went off grid and used paranoia and "wait 'em out" techniques. He was someone I had knowledge about for a while but when I met you I stopped seeing him -- or perhaps I stopped looking over my shoulder." The vulnerability she was showing you right now was so . . . you didn't want her to be ashamed of it. Not for a second.

So you cupped her cheek and tilted her face to her. "You're not blaming yourself, are you? Because it's not your fault, Natasha. You deserve to live a life where you don't have to look over your shoulder every single second." She turned her face into your palm and kissed it so softly.

"I do blame myself," she admitted in a small voice, hiding in your comfort while finding shame in it. "It is very hard not to when he has been a shadow to me that I was used to but should have known would have grown."

"He wasn't using usual means you said," you repeated her words, frowning and stroking her cheek. "He was going to find out about me whether or not you forgot about him. If you hid me, he would've followed you to where you meet me."

"Logic and emotions don't compute together," she said quietly, closing her eyes. You allowed her this moment of silence and rest your head on top of hers, still cradling her head in one hand.

"He found you because I got sloppy," she finally told you.

"He found me because he was relentless and avoided ways of being caught -- he was smart in those regards. You weren't sloppy, he was just . . . he was just good."

Natasha released a breath you did not realize she had been holding. "I'm supposed to protect you -- being with me it comes with those . . . those dangers. If I even slip up once --"

"Then what?" you prod softly, searching her eyes.

Natasha didn't seem able to get the words out. You ran your fingers through her long hair. "Nat, we do this as a team. We're a pair. I know your instinct is to protect me and I love you so much for that. But I need you to know that protecting me doesn't mean it's your duty."

She curled deeper into you and you kissed her head again. "I want to protect you, too. I may not be able to fight the monsters you can -- but I know how to chase them away when you sleep and keep you safe when you come home. So just . . . don't worry when I'm with you. I know I have nothing to worry about. But also," you added, giving her a nudge, "you needn't worry when we're not together either. I have Iron Man."

She scoffed and pushed off of you, retrieving her beer but coming back to sit next to you and cuddle.

"You never said where he went," you told her an hour later, deep into Shark Tank. "The guy."

She lifted the beer to her lips, eyes still locked onto the screen and said, "He went to a place we take enemies of the State. A place that makes Rikers looks like daycare."

You would have tried feeling sorry for him if he hadn't broken your favorite mug on top of the whole 'writing letters to Natasha in blood and making her girlfriend read them' thing.

Natasha was pissed off when you returned at 9PM to your apartments, FRIDAY setting the smart alarm system automatically behind you after locking the door.

She was sitting cross-legged on the sofa with her glasses on in the dark and staring at her laptop. Hair braided but loosely undone, sweater and shorts plastered to her fit form.

"Should I be worried you have no lights on?" you mused as you dropped your back in the entry way and threw your lab coat on top of it before slowly starting toward her.

She sent you a frosty look.

You thought up all of the possible things that you could have done to incite this part of Nat. Usually it had to do with leaving work too late — but this morning you both agreed between 8:30-10:00PM.

Did you leave your shoes on?

You did a quick look down at your feet and — nope — you managed to off the tennis shoes into the hall outside the door before stepping inside like habit.

She had returned to her furious typing by the time you went over a particularly short list of things that you ensure you don’t do to piss off Natasha. She was slow to anger — especially with you. And if she was angry she would hide it until she was ready to discuss it at a calmer time.

So whatever you did really upset her and you can’t remember a damn thing about it. You breathed out through your nostrils and pulled up your big-kid pants as you slowly made a few steps over. Then stopped to ensure she still had space.

“Okay,” you start simply, sticking your hands into your jean pockets. “I think you’re going to have to tell me why you’re mad. I’m no dice on this one.”

She jammed her thump into the enter key and pointedly ignored you. Swayze wailed at you as she twined between your legs, a ball of thick white fur. Liho was not far behind — a dart of black in the dimly lit room.

“Natasha — Nat,” you tried as you bent down to scoop up your still wailing feline and sit down next to her on the couch. “Talk to me, please. I don’t like it when you glare at me like I’m the one in your interrogation room.”

She was slow to give you a reaction but she closed her laptop and covered the room in total darkness. Only then did she say, “FRIDAY, living room overheads, soft yellow.”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.” The order was executed immediately, and the gentle glow lighting up Natasha’s features less harshly than the screen. She looked less hostile and more tired.

“When did you get those messages?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. Surprised only because you’d stupidly forgotten about the entire thing by burying yourself into your work to not have to confront those memories. “I — probably only like ten minutes before I sent them to you in the email.”

“Did you reply to them?” she asked evenly, eyes locking with yours. Green pierced you in a way that made you entirely too nervous.

“No, and I think you know that,” you said slowly. “What’s going on, Nat?”

“We got into your phone records,” the spy told you, resting her chin on her cupped hands and nudging her glasses back up her nose. “The number that messaged you is difficult to track and even one of my agents, Daisy, is struggling to get into this particular set of code that was encrypted into the photos. She’s one of our best, and she’s having problems with it.”

“I didn’t know that the photos were encrypted — they just sent normally like — I don’t know, photos.”

Her lips thinned. “Yes, we didn’t expect you to know which is unfortunately why the problem had gotten worse.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked quietly. Your hands no longer stroked along Swayze’s coat, and the cat had wiggled from your grasp after sensing the tension.

Natasha broke her gaze. “Nothing — it meant nothing. All I’m saying is that your phone isn’t safe anymore. They likely were able to sneak through your phone’s security and into all the private information you have stored. Empty the phone. We need to destroy it.”

You rubbed your face and sagged into the cushions, overwhelmed with the coldness Natasha exuded and how she seemed to treat you like you were a civvie and not her partner.

“. . . now, Y/N.” She turned her head away from you as she stood up, glasses removed and went into your shared bedroom.

“So I’m on first-name basis now?” you muttered as you dug into your bag and scrounged around until you came through your phone. You tossed it on the coffee table and stalked into the room.

“Why are you acting like this?”

Natasha was fidgeting with something on her Widow suit. She only did that if she had a mission coming up — and she would usually take the suit down to the armory to restock her belt and pouches.

She let you wallow in the silence besides the rustling of fabric and zippers before she said, “I don’t know how you think I’m acting.”

You crossed your arms. “Okay assassin-spy-superhero-watchdog,” you told her sarcastically, tensing up when she shot you a glare. “You’re being an ass. This is not normal behavior.”

“I’m perfectly fine and it’s just been busy at S.H.I.E.L.D. lately. I’m stressed,” she excused, throwing the suit down on the bed and turning away from you. “Are you tired? You worked late tonight.”

“Natasha I’m not tired enough to not talk to you,” you tried, moving forward. “This is weird. You don’t —“

“I need you to just—“ Natasha looked up and finally, finally, met your gaze again. “—just stop assuming something’s wrong. You’re okay.”

“I’m not the one worried I’m not okay!” You burst, arms flying into the air over your head. “You’re behaving weirdly.”

She clenched her jaw and skimmed past you into the other room, and you stood there in shock at the sudden change your partner was having in attitude.

She was closing down, locking the doors and windows. Your throat was starting to close when you realized how distant and cold she was becoming — and you feared it had to do with everything on the phone she found.

Did the findings spook her? Did the anger at being caught unaware by another person anger her to the point of shutting you out?

You didn’t think you would be getting an answer.

“I’m going to — I need to leave,” you breathed when you found her in the weapons closet in the hall. Despite the armory, she still kept her own stash and you laughed when you first saw it.

“What?” This seemed to get a rise out of her as she stood. Her eyes flickered with a hint of something — but it was so brief that you believed you imagined it. “No, with that text I would be more comfortable if you stayed here.”

“Natasha whatever’s going on is making me uncomfortable,” you snapped, pushing down the lifting sense of doom at the look on her face. “You’re not talking to me. You’re literally — I don’t know what’s going on but I feel like I came home to a weird scene of the Twilight Zone.”

Natasha hesitated as she set her gun carefully back into the case. “Listen, I need you to trust me. I know I’m not giving you answers but I have a reason. I wouldn’t — this is —“ her hands were trembling.

You closed your hand around hers as you got on your knees in front of her. “You’re panicking and shutting down on me. This is not usual for you, Nat. I trust you with my life but I need to understand what’s triggered this behavior.”

She glanced behind you, around the both of you, nervously. Her throat bobbed as she moved her hand until it encased yours in a firm grip. “I know who this might be and I believe it’s connected to the previous incident.”

“But you said the guy was pretty much in a pit,” you replied softly, keeping your anxiety at bay to keep Nat calm. Though you know Nat wouldn’t freak out if you did — she took your panic in stride.

“He is but I don’t think he was the one I should have worried about,” she admitted with a strained tone. For the first time you saw tears start to mist over her eyes. “I think he was — I think he was used to keep me busy.”

“From what?” you encouraged, stretching forward and grabbing her face. “Natasha if you know who’s doing this then you need to get yourself protected, not me. They’re only using me.”

“You don’t understand, my love,” Natasha murmured, forehead resting solidly against yours. “They’re using you but will absolutely kill you. This is an old enemy — but recent enough that they still seek me out.”

“Who could possibly want you dead this badly that isn’t already rotting in the grave?”

Before she could give you the response you wanted, something sharp and pricked suddenly and silently hit your side. Natasha pulled back and grabbed your shoulders.

Her eyes flicked behind you to the large, floor to ceiling windows that faced the forest that surrounded the Compound and realized there was a hole in the glass.

And then something shattered the windows into dust as she threw herself over your body.

Reader and Natasha will return in part four

PART FOUR

[hash-driveway]

Down With Me

Roxanne, Sunnyvale's newest resident, meets Julian and Ricky after they return from jail. Troubled by her traumatic relationship with her ex, will she be able to open up in her newfound home?

Bubbles isn’t in jail in this one.  I need him for exposition ok!! Roxanne is all of us and we are all Roxanne.

Also on AO3!

NEXT CHAPTER

CHAPTER ONE

Roxanne’s favorite part of living in Sunnyvale was the way that the sun beamed down onto her porch in the mornings.  Her routine, newly developed since moving to Sunnyvale, had a sense of peace about it since moving away from the city.  Instead of dragging herself out of bed, to then drag herself to her soul-sucking desk job, then back to her lackluster apartment, she felt energized to begin her day.  

After rising from bed, she would get ready for her morning jog around the trailer park.  When she lived with her ex, she hardly ever had the time to keep up with exercise.  Instead, she would resort to not eating much throughout her day to save herself time.  She had to be as productive as possible. Now that she had this fresh start, she could take more time for herself.  It was something that she had to get used to at first, but once she did, she fully embraced it.  It felt good to let go of the pressure and stress that she lived in for so long. 

Roxie developed a rapport with some of her neighbors on her morning jogs.  She met Lucy and Sarah, two best friends (who Roxie was surprised to find out were not in a relationship) who did hair out of their trailer sometimes.  Lucy’s daughter, Trinity, lived with them.  Trinity was a little hellion, stealing barbecues and throwing bottles.  Luckily, when Roxie caught her trying to steal her barbecue, she wasn’t intimidated by the little kid’s attitude.  Instead, she earned the child’s respect by talking with Lucy about the situation in a way that didn’t make her feel guilty.  After that, the three of them became friends.  

She also met Bubbles, a peculiar guy with the most alarming Coke-bottle glasses she’d ever seen.  He lived out of the shed across the street from her trailer.  Roxie took it upon herself to put some cat food out on her first night, and Bubbles noticed and came to her door.  At first, he was a bit offended, assuming she thought that he didn’t feed his kitties sufficiently.  He fed them good, he said, better than most kitties in the world.  She believed him.  

And of course, Roxie knew Jim Lahey and Randy, the Trailer Park Supervisor and Assistant Trailer Park Supervisor, respectively.  Jim was always drunk, and Randy was always shirtless. They weren’t as nosy as her previous landlords, who would barrage her with emails about her hanging plants on the balcony, or the decorations she’d put on her door.  Since she was the leaseholder, she was the one who was always being contacted for stupid shit, like her ex parking in the handicap spot or being late on rent because he couldn’t be bothered to save any money.  Her ex never took responsibility for anything.  

Across the street from her new place sat a white single-wide with brown trim.  Two young guys, Corey and Trevor, lived there and completely trashed it.  It was unfortunate seeing the state of disarray Julian’s home was in while he was away.  

She had never met Julian, of course.  Bubbles spoke about him and Ricky so often that Roxie felt like she might as well know them.  Bubbles often told her about how excited he was for his friends to get out of jail.  

That’s why Bubbles stopped her on her run this morning.  As soon as she passed Julian’s trailer on her second lap around, Bubbles ran to her in a panic.  

“Roxie! Please, I need your help.  I don’t know how I’m going to get Corey and Trevor out of Julian’s place,” he exclaimed, taking a moment to whine stressfully, “He’s going to be back any minute, and they just fucked his place up.  They won’t listen to me!” 

Out of breath and hunched over, Roxie panted through her words, “Bubbles, I’m sure Julian will be able to handle it. Corey and Trevor don’t seem too bright.” 

Bubbles sighed, not feeling any better, “Yeah, well, they’re fuckin’ idiots, but they’re in there tearing the place up… Smoking, drinking, and playing video games all day and night.  They don’t even care to clean up after themselves.” 

“It’ll be okay, Bubbs, I promise.” 

The rest of her morning went on as usual: Shower, change clothes, and brew coffee.  She sat on the small porch of her trailer, basking in the sun.  Roxie had on a gray tank top which now soaked up the water dripping from her hair, and shorts.  While it was early spring, it surely got hot enough for her to wear summer clothes already. 

Placing her coffee down, Roxie reached into her pocket and grabbed her plastic cigarette case, which held half a pack and a half-smoked joint.  She was saving the weed for later, maybe if she hung out with Lucy and Sarah that evening.  Roxie lit up a cigarette and let time stop for a moment as the morning sun warmed her face. 

Just after, her trance was broken by the sound of a cab rolling up across the street.  She watched as Bubbles ran to the vehicle in excitement.  That must be Julian and Ricky, she thought. 

The guy who exited the cab first wore a button-up houndstooth shirt with Adidas swishy pants.  His hair was a dirty red, styled in a pompadour with impressive sideburns.  His eyes were covered by small oval sunglasses.  He was cute. 

“Bubbs!” He shouted as he gave Bubbles a hug, “I fuckin’ missed ya, buddy.” 

Bubbles whined and hugged his friend back, “Ricky! I missed you, too!”  Roxie smiled to herself, happy that Bubbles wouldn’t be so lonely anymore.   

As the two reunited, the other side of the cab opened.  Roxie was greeted by the sight of a tall man with black hair, slicked back and shiny.  His dark goatee framed his jaw, and as he turned to retrieve their bags from the trunk, his earring caught the light of the morning sun.  His shoulders were broad, and a gold chain rested on his chest. In one hand, he held a drink, which never seemed to spill in spite of the movements he made.  He was built, but not cut.  He looked like the kind of guy that you wouldn’t want to fuck with.  

Roxie watched as Julian propped both duffel bags onto one shoulder, and a small wave of fervor swept through her stomach.  She took another drag, and stole glances at Julian as she eavesdropped from across the street. 

“Bubbs, what the fuck happened to my trailer?” Julian’s voice was deep and steady despite his aggravated tone. 

Bubbles stammered as he explained to Julian how he tried to kick Corey and Trevor out of his trailer, but that they wouldn’t listen.  Julian shook his head and made his way into his home with Ricky following behind him.  A commotion erupted from the trailer– a combination of shouting and objects falling over.  Corey and Trevor really did trash the place.  There was garbage and empty bottles where the flowerbeds used to be, and the porch was filled with junk.  Roxie couldn’t imagine how disgusting the inside of the house was. 

Bubbles looked around, a distressed look on his face.  Roxie stood as they made eye contact from across the street, and mouthed: 

“Everything okay?” 

Bubbles whined again and threw his hands up in exasperation before heading over to her.  

“I fucked up, Roxie.  I tried so hard to get them to leave, but those dicks are so drunk and high all the time that they never listen!”

She snuffed her cig and patted Bubbles on the back, “You tried your best, Bubbles.  It looks like your friends have it handled.” 

As she spoke, Ricky and Julian were throwing all of Corey and Trevor’s shit out of the front door.  Ricky pushed Corey out first, then Trevor.  Their protests fell on deaf ears as Julian scolded them and told them to start cleaning his trailer immediately.  

When the two made their way over to Bubbles, Roxie started feeling nervous.  Nervous? Fuck no, she was probably just excited to meet her new neighbor…right? Right.  

Julian approached and consoled Bubbles, making sure that his friend knew that it wasn’t his fault.  

“It’s alright, Bubbles. I should have known those dicks were up to something fucked up.” Julian regarded Roxie, eyeing her up and down before greeting her, “Hey.” 

“Hi,” she waved at him, “Roxie.” 

“Jeez, Bubbs.  You went ahead and got a girlfriend while we were gone, huh?” Ricky teased. 

Bubbles groaned, “Ricky! She’s not my girlfriend.  Just my friend.” 

“Is that right?” responded Julian, the faintest inkling of intrigue in his voice, “Nice to meet you.” 

Roxie smiled, “Likewise.” 

They shared a brief moment of eye contact until Ricky shouted at Corey and Trevor to “pick up the fucking pace” because he “wanted to watch TV and smoke a joint” with Julian and Bubbles.  

“Boys, let’s hurry the fuck up and get Corey and Trevor out of Julian’s! I want to have a tiny bit of a relaxing evening.” 

“See you,” said Julian, “Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Okay.  Bye, Julian.” 

As the boys returned to berating Corey and Trevor, Roxie found herself smiling.  Was her face red?  Oh God, it must have been weird of her to only say goodbye to Julian, right? Maybe she was being too obvious.  

She grabbed the half-smoked cigarette from her ashtray and went back inside before she got too excited about meeting her new neighbor.  

[avelera]

So I was on a panel about cyberwarfare as it relates to the Russian invasion of Ukraine back in December 2022 and afterwards while talking to some people said that the boldest statement I was willing to put money on was that we were closer to the end of the war in Ukraine than to the start of it and that Russia would fail and collapse sooner than people thought, just like the Soviet Union where people were blindsided by the collapse.

I pointed out that there’s fractures everywhere in their front that entirely relied on plugging by throwing untrained bodies at the problem, which would inevitably be unpopular at home. That besides the size of their force, Russia was completely outclassed. That they’d expected an easy fight and got blindsided. That corruption had gutted their effectiveness to the tune of billions in money stolen by the oligarchs. We couldn’t say when it would all fall apart but the West was still buying into Russian propaganda to continue to see strength where there was nothing but floundering and weakness propped up by brutality.

I pointed out that just about every objective that Ukraine claimed it would achieve, they had, and nearly every objective Russia had claimed they would achieve they’d failed at, and eventually those would add up and to stop thinking there was some deeper clever play at work. That they were in a shit ton of trouble, the question was just when it would all come crashing down.

And it was a bold thing to say! Possibly naive! It might still be naive if Wagner really does achieve their goals and do as they promised and turn around and go back to the front. But that seems a long shot only from the sheer internal disarray caused by them abandoning it. I can’t imagine those soldiers are going to want to go back. The parallels to the Bolsheviks is jaw dropping that Russia would again put all their political dissidents in prison, then recruit from prisons for a war, thus giving all their political enemies military training and cohesion.

I also can’t help but think that the Wagner leader saw this was the best chance he’d ever have to seize power with the experienced army at his disposal and with threat of assassination looming over him he was basically given Caesar’s choice and had to cross to the Rubicon or die.

But anyway. There’s still no way of knowing how this plays out. This is a truly chaotic situation reminiscent of the days of Rome’s Soldier Emperors or Machiavelli’s warring Italian cities, when the man with the biggest, most effective army could take over empires if he moved cleverly enough, or combust spectacularly in the attempt. It’s truly mind boggling to behold in the modern era with such a major state.

My greatest hope is that this proves enough for Ukraine to achieve a decisive victory and regain all its territory while Russia is distracted.

And, I admit, I’m feeling a little vindicated right now after saying this to a room of people who had largely bought into Russia’s claims about its own power. These current events are not things that happen to a successful, stable world power.

[sashi-ya]

𝐖𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬! chapter 1079 review.

Where to start?

First; I’m so really sorry for Kid, Killer and the whole crew. Honestly, poor babies ☹ I hope, since it wasn’t shown, the sea saves them. (This is based on a little theory I have; sea decides who lives and who doesn’t. Mother Sea, didn’t let Luffy and Big Mom drown in Wano. How comes they were drowning and suddenly they appeared at the coast? Who saved them? Also, the sea didn’t let Ace die back when a storm hit his ship (he wasn’t a df user yet, but he got the mera mera from the sea) or what about on ennies lobby? Mugiwaras jumped to “the sea” with smiles on their faces)

Secondly, let me play devil’s advocate here; is not that Kidd deserved what happened to him, but, it’s natural to get backlash at your actions. If you are gonna go pick up a fight, or, you are going to try hurt other’s friends… well, prepare for them to react.

Some have said, and maybe it can seem like that at first, “this isn’t Oda’s writing” or “it lacks preparation” but honestly when you read it again, I believe we had plenty of clues and reasons to believe this could have been a possible outcome. Why? Well:

✦ Since the Reverie the world is AT CHAOS. We know that because it’s been said several times by plenty of people. You can even see how the CP0 kept constant communication with the rest of the GW and Marine to know how things were going outside Wano. It’s obvious that things will happen when the world is in disarray.

✦ The two times we saw Shanks fought, he acted the same way (and it is the lesson he gave to Luffy, that he has always kept in mind… especially when he met Blackbeard): he won’t fight unless it is strictly necessary and someone hurts/dares to hurt his friends. At Marineford, he arrived and told them “stop or get ready to get fucked with no mercy”. But the most important one for me; featured on the VERY FIRST CHAPTER OF ONE PIECE: the fight with the mountain bandits! he didn’t do anything when they hit their head with a damn bottle. But he did something when Luffy was in trouble. Also, they KILLED SOMEONE and stated WE AREN’T GOOD PEOPLE. We actively chose to ignore that fact, cause he’s been always “luffy’s dad” and he has always acted like a sweet man. HE ISN’T A SAINT.

✦ Now, going back to the fact that Lucky put a bullet on that mountain bandit’s head. What was the premise? “Don’t point guns unless you are ready to get killed”. It’s the exact same thing that happened to Kidd in here. Shanks saw with his INCREDIBLE observation Haki what Kidd was planning to do to his fleet and HE HAD to stop him. Now, is it ok to use SUCH strong attack? Well, idk, but he is strong, and Kid should have known better (even if he had a taste of his power when someone from his crew cut his arm off before. You know��� “Arrogance destroys the footholds of victory”)

✦ The giants. Same as the point above; if you are willing to hurt their friends, you should be ready to face consequences. Also, those guys come from the war island… what do you expect? They spent 100 years fighting over stupid things while on Little Garden, do you really expected them not to react if their Island was in danger by a huge cannon? Well… I’m not blaming them either for their reaction.

What I am trying to say is that their actions went perfectly well with their characters. Shanks reaction isn’t new nor weird. The giants reaction is expected.

Hopefully Kid and Killer will be ok, but, don’t get surprised (and I swear to god this isn’t a slander) if they end up not making it. The fake -and sudden- illusion of Kid becoming as important as Luffy and Law on Wano was perfectly added to create even more impact for when Shanks finishes him. This is just an opinion. It’s not that I don’t love him, I do. The thing is that I started wondering myself WHY he was THAT relevant all of a sudden? Well…

[allsassnoclass]

omg I just saw the drabble prompt thing!! if you're still doing it, can I request 54 for mashton? -megs 💙

hi @igarbagecannoteven, whipping this out from a year ago!

mashton: “Finally, some common sense.”

Michael walks into the dining room to find his table covered in what look like blueprints, copies of some old documents, and a photo of what appears to be a very fancy, very blue painting, printed on plain printer paper and wrinkled from the ink.  Luke, Calum, and Ashton are all seated around the table in various states of disarray, and the conversation immediately dies when Michael enters the room, which isn’t suspicious at all.

“Uh, hi guys,” he says, looking at Calum still in his pjs, Luke all dolled up, and Ashton in his workout gear and his hair messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it in frustration.  “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Luke says mulishly.

“Luke wants–ow!  That was my shin, you fucker!  Luke wants to steal a painting,” Ashton says, glaring at the guy in question.  Michael tilts his head and steps closer, wrapping an arm around Ashton’s shoulders.

“What the fuck, Luke?” he asks.  Luke sighs.

“You know my friend Sammy, right?” Michael nods because he has, in fact, met Luke’s friend Sammy on multiple occasions.  “His grandma had this painting.  It was a gift from his grandpa, the artist was a friend of his, but they lost touch and it’s just been a painting ever since.  Two weeks ago some guy approached them about it, said he was the grandson of the painter.  He gave them a whole sob story about lost art and how difficult it is to find works by small artists, then showed them a will saying the artist left the painting to him.  He offered them a couple hundred bucks and they felt bad, so they gave him the painting.  Well, it turns out it’s going to be part of a museum exhibit and this guy wasn’t the grandson, he’s some random art collector who knew this piece is worth over a hundred thousand dollars.  He lied to them to get the painting, and the police said they can’t do anything about it because Sammy’s grandparents technically sold it.  I want to get it back for them.”

“Luke, you can’t steal a painting,” Michael says, grabbing the museum pamphlet with the painting front and center.  “You’re way too clumsy and gangly.  You’ll get arrested, and the grandparents would have to keep the painting hidden anyway or they’d be charged with harboring stolen property.”

“Finally, some common sense!” Ashton says, throwing his hands up.

Michael opens the pamphlet and reads the short piece on the exhibition while Luke grumbles.

“I can’t stand that this guy got away with stealing from them and there’s nothing anyone can do,” Luke says, laying his chin in his hands.  Calum rubs his back in sympathy.

Michael glances at Luke and feels a pang in his chest at his dejected expression.  Luke has a big heart, and he doesn’t like it when people get hurt.  He can be the most cynical out of all of them, but he also constantly hopes that the world and the people in it won’t prove him right.  This must be eating him alive.

“You can’t steal the painting,” Michael reiterates, “but you could grift him out of it, or at least distract enough for Calum to steal it.”

Ashton’s head hits the table with a thunk that makes Calum wince.  Michael rubs his back while he works through this betrayal.

“Me, grift him?” Luke asks, lifting his head slightly.  “I don’t know if I can.  I’m so awkward.”

“Think about it,” Michael says.  “Yeah, you can be awkward, but once we get some confidence in you, you become a completely different person. Remember how easily you charmed the manager of that restaurant into giving us a free meal?  And you completely dominate on stage.  You totally could do it.”

“You know, he has a point,” Calum says.

“And you!” Michael says, turning on him.  “You’re quiet and unobtrusive, plus you’re fast and surprisingly agile.  You could totally sneak in if the grifting doesn’t work.  Sure, you’re too big to fit in an air vent, but maybe we can get Sierra to help.”

“You’re all insane,” Ashton groans, rubbing at his forehead.  “You realize that museums have security, right?  If this guy is into shady stuff like stealing paintings from grandparents, he’s going to protect the stuff he stole.”

“Good thing we have someone here who works in cybersecurity and did a brief stint testing security systems for an insurance company,” Michael says, doing jazz hands.

“Baby, no,” Ashton says, turning big, sad eyes on him.  Normally they would have an effect, but not when Michael knows he’s right.

“Baby, yes,” he replies, cupping Ashton’s cheek.  “We can do this.  We just need a good plan.”

He raises his eyebrows, waiting.  He doesn’t dare look away from Ashton, but he can feel the force of Luke and Calum’s pleading, too.

“No,” Ashton states.  “Absolutely not.”

“I mean, the other option is that we try to do this ourselves and get arrested,” Michael says.  “I don’t think you can afford bail.”

“I’d leave you in there,” Ashton says.  Michael pouts, then threads his fingers through Ashton’s hair.  It’s a dirty trick, but it works, because Ashton tilts his head up to meet Michael’s eyes again.

“This guy stole a sentimental work of art from an elderly couple, and he’s probably done it to others.  Our justice system is too fucked to do anything about it.  Someone should.”

“‘Someone’ doesn’t mean us.”

“Why not?” Michael asks.

“Why not?” Ashton repeats, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up.  “Why not?  I don’t know, Michael, maybe because none of us have stolen anything bigger than a candy bar from Walmart? Or because if this goes wrong our lives will be ruined forever?  Or because we don’t know anything about this guy or his security system?  Or how about how you can’t hack an actual human security guard, which the museum has a lot of?”

“Every team of thieves has to start somewhere,” Michael offers.  “We won’t let it go wrong.  We’ll do our homework and be prepared.  As for the security guards, you’re literally going to go teach a self-defense class at the gym this afternoon.  You can take care of it.”

“You’ve got to admit, it sounds almost feasible,” Calum says.  Next to him, Luke has a cautiously hopeful look on his face.

“Almost,” Ashton insists.  “Almost doesn’t mean it’s a good plan.”

“That’s what we need you for,” Michael says.  “You’re good at plans.”

“I thought you needed me to knock out security guards,” Ashton counters.  Michael beams.

“What can I say?  You’re invaluable.”

“Don’t flatter me right now,” Ashton says.  “Flattery will not help you, especially when all of us get arrested.  What happened to the grandparents harboring stolen property?”

“That won’t matter if we take him down,” Luke says.

“Exactly!” Michael agrees, pointing emphatically.  “If we prove that he stole the painting or ruin him in some other way, then the physical stealing will be an afterthought.”

“If that doesn’t work, we can swap it with a copy, then have someone authenticate it and make him look like an idiot,” Calum offers.  “The authentication papers he already has are fake because the grandparents didn’t have any.  Maybe we just need to give authorities an excuse to look closer at them.”

“If we can’t get him arrested for stealing, let’s get him arrested for forgery,” Michael says.  He wants to rub his hands together and laugh maniacally.  Oh yeah.  Everything’s coming together.

Ashton sighs, long and heavy.

Right.  They still have to convince him.  As crazily feasible as this plan seems now, Michael  knows that they won’t have any hope of pulling it off without Ashton’s eye for detail and careful contingencies.  Michael may bring the drive, Luke the heart, and Calum the glue of their little group, but Ashton gives all of them direction.  He always has.

“Hey,” Michael says, kneeling next to Ashton’s chair with a hand on his thigh, thumb swiping over the skin his shorts leave visible.  “If you really think this is impossible, we won’t do it.  We can’t pull it off without you.  But if there’s a chance that we can help Sammy’s grandparents, I think we should.”

Ashton sighs again, looking at Michael long and hard.  He turns his gaze over to Luke and then Calum in turn, taking in their pleading and hopeful faces, then gives his attention back to Michael.  Michael holds his breath.  Ashton searches his face, and Michael doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he hopes he finds it.

“When is the exhibit?” Ashton asks eventually.

“It starts next week and runs for two months,” Luke says, pushing the museum pamphlet closer to him.  Ashton presses his lips together, then nods.

“Right,” he says.  “That means we have two months to think of and execute a plan.  We’d better get started.”

Luke whoops.  Michael leans forward and presses a kiss to Ashton’s cheek, then pulls up a chair.  They have a painting to steal.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Shin Dark [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the forest

Yui: ( Iーー will follow Shin-kun. )

( I want to be there for him. )

( Shin-kun...can be somewhat worrying at times. )

Shin: ...Hey, you. 

Yui: Eh...?

Shin: You’ve been staring right at me this whole time, what’s wrong? ...Do I have something stuck on my face?

Yui: T-That’s not it...It’s just, I’m a little worried. 

( Of course, I’m concerned about Carla-san’s illness as well... )

( But what worries me the most...is that Shin-kun might be pushing himself too much. )

Shin: ...I mean, I get what you’re trying to say.

ー He steps closer

*Rustle*

Shin: Nii-san...He might seem to be doing fine right now, but who knows what could happen at literally any moment.

However...Don’t worry. It’s true that we’re the only First Bloods left in the Demon World.

*Rustle*

Shin: But now that Karlheinz is out of the picture, we’re pretty much the strongest people around, no? Right, Nii-san?

Carla: Of course.

Shin: All these different Demons have been coming to visit us.

Because they acknowledge that we are number one now. They want us on their side.

Carla: Karlheinz disappeared, leaving the Demon World in a state of disarray.

I assume that the other Clans are hoping to use powers as a way to survive under these circumstances. 

Of course, there will also be those who will try to take advantage of the situation to climb to the top.

Shin: Well, they were unable of doing so before because they feared Karlheinz’ powers.

Carla: They believe that right now, they could be in command...That is what they are making themselves believe.

Shin: ...Personally, I don’t think there’s any chance that those kind of people will ever gain sovereignty over the Demon World.

Carla: ...Hmph.

Yui: ( I mean...It’s true that’s what it felt like. Nobody could oppose Karlheinz-san... )

( Not even the Sakamaki brothers dared to face him. )

*Rustle*

Yui: But...Was there never anyone who could rival Karlheinz-san in strength?

Shin: ...Who knows? Not as far as I’ve heard. How about you, Nii-san?

Carla: ...There was not.

Yui: ( In which case...It’s kind of odd. )

( If we look purely at genetics...Founders should be more powerful than Karlheinz-san. )

( So I wonder why there was never someone like that. )

Carla: ...What’s the matter? Is there something you would like to share?

Yui: O-Oh no! Nothing...!

( I am sure they would get upset if I were to say that...So I’ll keep it to myself. )

Carla: Putting that aside, how long are the two of you going to stand there glued to each other?

Yui: Ah...

ー Shin steps back

*Rustle*

Shin: Ahー ...My bad, Nii-san.

Carla: ーー You are the one who won her over.

However, remember there is a time and place for everything. ...Understood? 

Shin: Yeah. ...I’m sorry.

Carla: I shall return to the Castle first. The two of you should not wander around for too long either.

ー Carla leaves

Shin: ...

Yui: ( Shin-kun...I guess he can’t help but be worried. )

( I don’t regret choosing him over Carla-san. )

( However...I know that Shin-kun truly respects his older brother...So I do feel somewhat bad. )

Shin: ...Say.

Yui: Yes, Shin-kun?

Shin: You’re...thinking of Nii-san, aren’t you?

Yui: ...!

Shin: I’ve stopped feeling inferior to or envious of him. 

It won’t get me anywhere after all. ...Besides, I got the thing I wanted the most already.

Yui: Shin-kun...

Shin: He rarely ever shows it through words...but despite how harsh he might seem at times, he is watching over us.

That’s proven by the fact he hasn’t disapproved of our relationship. 

...If he is fine with it, then there’s no reason for us to worry about it either.

Yui: Yeah. You’re right...

Shin: It’s just...

The fact that Nii-san has not attempted to steal you away from me...

Might be because he knows...that he does not have much time left in this world.

Yui: I was thinking the same thing, actually.

Shin: He’s a very brave man...So I get worried. Worried that he might be pushing himself.

...Although, I feel like I’d look death straight in the eyes if I were to say that to his face.

Yui: Shin-kun...

Shin: ...Either way, we have to gain control over the Demon World as soon as possible. 

We have to rise to the top before Nii-san runs out of time. 

...I doubt it’ll be that easy though. 

This guy we met earlier...Kino, it was? Didn’t you also get bad vibes from him?

Yui: Yeah...He was...a rather mysterious individual.

( He called himself Karlheinz-san’s illegitimate child but...Is he really? )

Shin: I wonder if those Sakamaki’s are aware of his existence...?

Yui: Not as far as I’ve heard...

Shin: Hmー...

So eiher he was spouting random lies...or those idiot brothers might not know about him either. 

I guess there’s no point worrying about it. But I believe it’d be best to keep our guard up high for now.

Anyway, Nii-san’s gonna yell at us soon, so let’s head back.

Yui: Ah...Yeah!

ー The scene shifts to Carla’s room

Carla: Kuh...Coff...Coff...!

ーー I am running short on time.

However, fortunately...I no longer have to fear about the future of us Founders.

What I must do right now...is conquer the Demon World for my younger brother. ...That is all. 

That is my final duty...

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[semi-imaginary-place]

FFXVI Rewrite Part 5: Origin, Ultima, and the Ending

With the last Mothercrystal destroyed and the final seal on Ultima broken, the apocalypse begins. The sky breaks apart into dark roiling aetheric stormclouds casting the world into eternal gloom. Aetherfloods spill across the lands poisoning all life and turning it akashic, the remaining crystals fail. There is no nation left standing in Valisthea. The one force that would have fought against Ulima’s rule Waloed is in disarray. The greatest champion fighting for free will was Banabas who is now dead. Congrats on making things worse! Isn’t free will and making choices great? The party much now scramble to figure out what is going on, all the while the realization of how badly they messed up slowly dawns upon them. Like in the actual game’s post Twinside section, the party scrambles to recover from the Waloed attack while also fending off compounding problems of starved beasts, Fallen machines, akasha, and wraiths. Now though Origin has also risen into the sky destroying all hopes of salvaging Twinside. The party travels around Valisthea piecing together the deteriorating situation with the destruction of the Mothercrystals and wonders if this is what Ultima wanted since they stopped bothering them several Mothercrystals back. Doomsday cultists start popping up. In particular will be the savior cult the Circle of Malius who are much the same as the are in the actual game striving to make all people akashic as they see it as the ultimate pure state free of mortal burdens. This formerly suppressed underground faction now runs free now that Barnabas is gone.

I really do like most of the sidequest storylines especially Dion and Harpocrates’ quest, however a complaint I had was that their placement right before the final boss dropped the pacing off a cliff. In this rewrite the last section is being expanded so there is time added here for Clive to rally people and finish their storylines so that the finale can be uninterrupted. This includes the final part of Jill’s character arc where she reckons that for all that she has talked big and tried to help people, she herself still does not quite know what it means to live on her own terms, but she thinks she is finally starting to understand. Jill wants to travel the world, to help the people out there who don’t know how to fight for themselves yet and to find herself. In the actual game the Jill-Clive romance is primarily hindered by Jill’s poor writing having tried to fix her writing here I have no objections to the romance anymore. However, I was never a fan of romances and am of the mentality of that if it isn’t needed it shouldn’t be included. For example, in Tales of Arise the relationship between Alphen and Shionne is the center point around which the rest of the story revolves and while it could have been a friendship instead of a romantic one, there is no Tales of Arise without Shionne and Alphen’s relationship. This is not the case for FFXVI, even in this rewrite Jill is not the deuteragonist (if anyone it’d be Joshua), as such Jill and Clive’s relationship is not central to the story and really while I’m not opposed, I feel a romance just gets in the way of the story, if there’s to be any romance I would rather it just be implied or optional. Dion and Terrance should still kiss because that is bold and revolutionary in a way the portrayal of any straight couple isn’t, also they’re side characters so it doesn’t matter this story isn’t about them. Before the final dungeon is also the time to show how life without magic sucks. FFXVI sort of glosses over this very briefly but I think this point should be integrated into all the final storylines, without magic people have no safe drinking water or fire, disease begins running rampant, industry grinds to a halt, and food production halts so people begin starving in the streets in mass, and Clive has to see all this knowing this is what he’s done to people.

The party eventually learns of Ultima’s plans to destroy the world and enslave humanity by flooding them with aether and turning every living thing akashic. At the same time, they record increased aether concentrations gathering around Origin, as the Blights worsen as Ultima repurposes the same draining mechanisms as the Mothercrystals, He turns the very chains that bound them into his servants. Instead of loredumping via a ten minute monologue at the end of the game, now would be a good place to drop bits of lore and worldbuilding like how in this version dragons, frostwolves, and such were the original inhabitants of the world. Ultima is the last surviving active member of the Fallen whose ancient civilization made all the ruins encountered across the game. Ultima and the Fallen brought humans to Valisthea and created eikons by enslaving the power of the land’s original inhabitants. Eikons are a phenomena of the recent centuries and a sign that the seals were weakening.

As a lover of JRPGs I found it immensely disappointing that Origin was just some cutscenes and not a full dungeon so I’m making it a full dungeon in this rewrite. Ultima is trying to draw in Clive and possess him anyways (as well as the combined Ifit-Phoenix fire eikon) so they would try and cut off the rest of the party. Dion is able to break a hole in Origin that Clive enters into with Joshua, however Jill is cutoff, and under constant assault she seals the hole after them to stop pursuit. In addition, the Fallen forces are marching from Origin to turn every person akashic and Dion and Jill are needed to hold them back. As such Dion and Jill as the two that can fly stay outside to stop pursuit of Joshua and Clive, as well as to try and contain Ultima’s forces from murdering and or turning everyone on the continent into akasha. This would be a nice scene to show all the factions of Valisthea that Clive has met and negotiated with coming together to ward off extermination. Like the Trinity Accord can actually be something meaningful as a defense accord rallying humanity’s last remnants. Origin will be a classic final dungeon boss gauntlet with no way to exit until the player beats the game. Every set of floors (5? 10?) will be a boss as Ultima seeks to weaken Clive.

During the ascent to the top or Origin the final secrets of the game are revealed and the lore scattered throughout the game brought together. To reiterate, the Fallen drained the resources of their homeland and turned it into a wasteland, their civilization collapsed and the survivors fled upon the mothership Origin to a new world. Coming to Valisthea, they came into contact with the native lifeforms such as the dragons and began a war of conquest for control over Valisthea. The Fallen made eikons out of draconic aether to use as war weapons against the dragons themselves thus why eikons are elemental themed. Eventually the Fallen with their eikons and advanced technology kill most of the dragons but not before most of them were killed as well. As a last resort the last remaining dragons sacrificed themselves to seal the last Fallen away the Eldest Wyrm’s body fragments, becoming the Mothercrystals. The Mothercrystals much like dragons themselves have a strong connection to the aether of the land and while not ideal, a side effect of the Mothercrystals is that they feed off of the land’s aether to power their seals. Because this was a last ditch effort it’s full of problems including that the seals take an unsustainable amount of aether and after the land is drained of aether the seals begin to fail. Mining and using crystals sped up the breaking of the seals as well as the spread of the deadlands as the Mothercrystals drained the lands to fuel the seals. Ultima is the last active Fallen who awakened as the seals weakened. The reawakening did not go as he hoped as the other Fallen only remained as aether. Ultima seeks to flood all of humanity with Fallen aether made of his people’s souls to truly reincarnate them, replacing the original aether of the world with Fallen aether. Origin now acts as the focal point amassing aether and releasing Ultima’s forces.

At the top floor of Origin Clive and Joshua find not only Ultima but Anabella and Olivier. Anabella and Olivier transport to Ultima’s eden space ship which is revealed to be the red star Metia; Origin acts as the connecting point between Valisthea and Metia. Ultima reveals that the Fallen are the true humans of this setting. The original humans created soulless shell or dolls for them to later fill with their own aether, reincarnate, and thus save their civilization. All the characters the player has met were these husks created by the true humans, the people of Valisthea were never meant to be people on their own with wills and thoughts. Similarly, Mythos like in the actual game was the chosen vessel for Ultima to fill with the eikons, ascend to godhood, and power the casting. But like most plans, things have gone wrong and now created fights Creator. Ultima tells Clive and Joshua that they and their brethren were only ever imposters wrongfully claiming the title of humanity their masters: the true humans. As creations of humans, they belong to humans, their wills exist only as an extension of the true humans’ wills. “In Ultima's eyes, mankind's greatest sin is the awakening of free will—his servants straying from the path their creator laid out for them and forging one of their own. However, Clive contends that this is a sin by which Ultima is equally stained—and indeed, if humanity is indeed Ultima's creation, does not their every action, every emotion stem from him?” (Mysteries of the Realm: Sin).

Clive and Joshua face Ultima in his Ultimalius form as in actual FFXVI for stage 1 of the final boss fight. After beating Ultimalius, Ultima transforms Stage 2 is a giant kaiju eikon battle is space. Like in the Bahamut fight, Ifrit and Phoenix combine, however where Ifrit Prime was an incomplete fusion, this time the fusion is in full and the true Eikon of Fire emerges: Adonaios v2.11 (other possible names are Sabaoth and Belias). Ultima uses the beta testing version Adonaios v1.8; 1.8 comes from the incorporation of all 8 elements plus Ultima, 2.11 comes from Adonaios having to be split into two but left unfinished by Ultima for Clive to collect the remaining eikons. In game Ifrit Prime just looked like the Ifrit model with 2 feathers glued on, Adonaios v2.11meanwhile looks like a 50:50 fusion a molten red eikon with wings, horns, a feathered tail, and a jagged beak. Adonaios is slimmer than Ifrit but overall bigger with the feathers. Adonaios v1.8 meanwhile looks like the figure on the murals, a fusion of all 8 eikons and elements however it is falling apart at the seams even as Ultima fights with it because it’s an abandoned draft version. Late in the stage 2 fight Clive and Joshua are losing and draw upon the remaining power of the eikons of whom only Bahamut and Shiva are left. This drains the remaining eikonic power from Jill and Dion, grounding them and making the Valisthea fight hopeless, the Ultima fight now all or nothing. Stage 3 of the final boss fight takes place aboard Metia. Metia was an alien spaceship all along, but more accurately it is a control satellite from which to coordinate the revival of humanity. Clive, Joshua, and Ultima have all mostly used up all their power in the previous stage. In this final stage of the fight Ultima transcends and returns to his original appearance that of a human, Clive and Joshua are no longer fighting some strange monster but someone they would recognize as human. In stage 3 Clive cannot semi-prime. In the end Ultima is killed and his species is now extinct.

Joshua and Clive are exhausted from climbing Origin as well as the consecutive boss fights but begin to relax with Ultima dead, and then Anabella steps out. Anabella thought she could outplay Ultima by siding with him and then taking over, and now she sees her chance. She steals all the power that Ultima had been siphoning into himself to cast the spell, and redirects it all into Olivier to turn Olivier into a god and who will rule the world, doing what Ultima failed to do. It fails because playing god is a bad idea, Olivier’s body cannot handle the power and it begins mutating him into a deformed humanoid abomination with multiple arms and eyes, bodies seemingly trying to grow out of him. So, the true final boss is mercy killing a child who is falling apart and turning into an abomination but doesn't know it, as he cries that it hurts and begs you to stop. Olivier cannot be allowed to live as they will destroy the world. and the aether is warping his mind and he becomes less coherent as the fight goes on, regressing from full sentences to just screams. Ascended Olivier doesn’t really fight back, he flails around and lashes out when attacked but attacks aren’t particularly aimed at the player and he’s mostly crying and shaking on the ground in pain. Ascended Olivier has a very large health bar and the story will not progress until he is killed, the last save point is before reaching the top floor or Origin. In a game full of epic boss battle, the last is anticlimactic by design, there is no epic music just silence, there is no challenging gameplay, only attacking a child. The gameplay is boring, its grueling, and that’s the point. Clive kills Olivier and then there’s just Anabella.

Much like the Fallen were the creators of modern humans who sought to control their creations and saw them as an extension of themselves, creations that deviated and refused to submit to their will and thus were failures. So too is Anabella a controlling creator who deemed her children failures for not advancing her goals, hating and discarding them to try again with a new child. Olivier was supposed to be her ultimate creation, perfect and subservient to her with no will of his own. The parallels between Anabella and Ultima exist in the actual game so it was disappointing her role ended so early and nothing was done with this parallel. Here is this rewrite, the large-scale destruction of the world by Ultima is paralleled with the destroyed Rosfield family and this final confrontation with Anabella. Anabella is not a warrior, without her soldiers and pawns she doesn’t have and martial power, she is more or less powerless to her fate at this point having discarded all her cards and bet everything Olivier. Clive (and the player) are then given the choice to “do nothing”, “kill”, or “spare” Anabella, Clive after all was the one who suffered the most from her. If “kill” is chosen, then Clive kills Anabella. If “spare” is chosen, Clive walks away but not before Joshua steps in and kills Anabella because even if Clive can forgive her Joshua can’t. If “do nothing” is chosen Anabella kills herself unable to reconcile with a reality in which she has lost.

Clive and Joshua use the last embers of the eikonic power remaining to shut down Primogenesis and Ultima’s plans, landing the Metia at the base of the crumbling Origin. The closing shot is of gang standing together overseeing a ruined Valisthea as the camera pans showing the aether storm clearing, wraiths evaporating, and fallen machines deactivating permanently. The deadlands are still around but a new sprout is seen growing. The credits sequence plays over a scene of Mid yelling to hurry it up she wants to see stoves and water purifiers in every village by the end of the month, shots of people is Valisthea figuring out how to live without magic using technology and innovation, the main characters are seen helping repair efforts. The end card says 4 years, meaning FFXVI takes place over a total of 16 years, from the beginning of the game and Phoenix Gate to the end of the game and Origin. Sun light is streaming through a window as Clive writes in a book which he closes to the title “Final Fantasy XVI by Joshua and Clive Rosfield”. As the timeline is changed here so that Clive is younger for the duration of the game than he is in the real game, his older model can be used here. Clive is using his non-dominant hand here as his dominant hand has been partially petrified from his fight with Ultima. On the desk is a photo of Clive and a bedridden Joshua.

The game’s themes could have been better integrated into the final section of the game. If FFXIV wanted to tell a story about choice, then they should have made Clives’ choices have weight and consequence. If he wants a society free of the Mothercrystals then the game should have showed how he ruined the lives of many many people by destroying them. FFXVI would have benefited greatly from more moral dilemmas like that. There should have also been exploration of the concepts of creation, ownership, makers, what makes someone human. One missed opportunity was not bringing up the relationship between art and artist, is art an extension of the artist or its own thing. The references to Gnosticism were fine but the concepts could have been clearer. There are also just a truckload of small problems and inconsistencies in the game like how Charon is said at one point to have a wide variety of customers across the continent while at another point is said on exclusively trade to the Hideaway. There’s a sidequest about how Murdoch’s nephew joins the Hideaway because he admires Clive and then the game forgets about him (just like they forget about Jill) and only remembers him again to put him on a bus, thus having no interaction with Clive. A lot of worldbuilding is just badly done. I love mysteries but making things misleading and obscure for no reason is not how to do it. So much of it was unclear or convoluted or just pointless even after reading the completed The Thousand Tomes that I just threw the whole thing out and wrote new lore for this reimaging of FFXVI. If a change is not specified than it is the same as in the actual game. I wrote 85% of this in Jun-Jul of 2023, then stopped for lack of motivation. I only finished this for the sake of finishing it because I don’t care anymore. I’m done with FFXVI and it’s poor writing.

It says something that it ended up being easier to throw out the later 1/3 of the game. In earlier drafts I did originally try to make canon work like Barnabas being one of Ultima’s devout and purifying Waloed by turning it all akashic, or Joshua’s probable death at the end of the game. Like it would have made more sense for Barnabas and Ultima as they are portrayed in the actual game to methodically hunt down and kill every person or named NPC Clive has ever talked to, slowly isolating him from his humanity by breaking every connection he’s ever tried to make. But of course, this removes the cast from having a role in the rest of the game and makes it impossible to keep the rest of the game the same. This rewrite ended up being pretty happy and optimistic because that’s the spirit of the original game. FFXVI in the end is pretty optimistic, which I have mixed feelings about. FFXVI tries have an upbeat uplifting ending and message while also wanting to be a dark, gritty, edgy Game of Thrones knockoff, and while this is very possible for a work to do, FFXVI did not succeed in meshing these aspects into a consistent whole, XVI ends up feeling inconsistent or disjointed. So while I did eventually decide to uphold XVI’s optimistic spirit I did consider another possibility leaning into more of the darker ambience. With the rising of Origin and fight to climb the tower, every major character either is killed or sacrifices themselves for Clive to reach the summit. The Cursebreakers buy time of the ground with their lives, Dion finally gets the absolution of death he has been seeking for Sanbreque, Jill joins Clive and Joshua in the tower but sacrifices herself to hold back the tower bosses and all of Ultima’s forces chasing them up the tower. During the second stage of the final Ultima fight to turn Ifrit Prime into Adonaios v2.11 and truly fuse Phoenix and Ifrit, Joshua who is already dying burns himself away allowing Clive to have all of Phoenix’s power. Clive thus kills Olivier alone, and faces Anabella alone, his fate left ambiguous.

Read this in one long post

Read this in parts: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 .

[therealityhelix]

Shards of the Nexus: HatrVættr

Sympathy for a devil.

Song: Enemy-Mystery Skulls

@cardwrecks​ @captainbaddecisions​

He was a bramble in the spring thaw, too early to bloom, all soft new leaves and red thorns pointed outward. Approach with caution.

But...

This was what had them all so unsettled? This was the source of such hurt and fear, such concern, such silence? He was barely more than a child.

He was curled in on himself to seem tiny, a tumbleweed of onyx strands ready to blow away, and he looked up at her, the very picture of innocent bewilderment.

Cornflowers blooming on the side of a road, clinging tight to thin soil strewn with litter and salt. Tension tight piano strings, one snap away from sharp notes.

“Who are you?” A weak, warbling clarinet, hollow, lilting, tempting, leading.

“My name is Helix. Have you heard of me?” He shook his raven head. “Well, I'm friends with Swag. And YJ, and Puzzles too. And several other people I suspect we both know.”

There was an unwinding, a spooling out of sinew, a revelation of form. This body was built for strength, grace that showed through even in its crinkled state.

This was not the first body, not the first life. She did not know this shower of garnet and diopside, because he had been dead these past two years, his corner of the Nexus an empty space in the edge of her vision. A face cut out of a photograph.

This being, this Narci, was a wight. A spirit, returned from wherever it had once gone, to make a new place for itself here. All worlds were full of them. They resided in rocks, trees, and homes. They were people, animals, mushroom circles. Free willed entities, possessing their chosen homes through their own agency. He still wore the bracelets she had created to house him while this new body was being built specifically for him, a copy of the one he'd left behind. He was dangerous, a betrayer, untrustworthy, mad. Or so she'd been told.

It was one of the only things she'd been told. The Family had otherwise been strangely quiet about all this. One would think that the return of a lost brother would spark celebrations, joyful reunions. But the men who never shut up, their lips were sewn, like Loki forced to bear the ire of his own cleverness.

They were afraid.

And she had tried; she had gone to the Detective once Puzzles had dropped the news, once everyone had reacted like iron filings to the wrong end of a magnet. They had only said one thing to her.

“Do you know what it is like to truly fail?”

And she could find out no more before Jervis had chased her off. Nash would speak to no one, YJ was all a-fret, but still gave no straight answers. Even Arkham, who simply looked at her, no words needing to be spoken for them to know that they were, and would remain, on opposite sides of this.

She didn't even know what this was yet, but damn him, he was almost certainly right.

So, of course, she had gone to the Question Mark in search of answers.

And was flatly refused.

Startling, to say the least, because Swag never told her 'no'. But the twins had sat there, identical shaking heads, in complete accord for once, in saying no, please, don't you fuckin' dare-in futility, because they also knew she would go anyway.

“Just don't let him get his hands on you.”

That last, a warning from Unswag of all people, a man she knew would have blood up to his elbows that very moment if not for her. A warning from someone who knew.

It was so very wrong to see the Family-her family-in such disarray.

And so she had come, because of course she had come. And she had her chalk, and her tools, and her magic. She had come to assess if this was a problem that she needed to make Go Away.

But he was just a young man.

“You know Puzzles...is that why you're here? To visit him? He's never mentioned you. Do you have permission?”

“I come and go. It's something of an understanding between all of us. And I don't doubt he hasn't mentioned me. I'm not terribly important.”

Despite her role in helping Puzzles get this new body created, he had apparently seen fit to keep her involvement secret. But if Puzzles was as unsettled as the rest of them, neglecting to mention her might be his way of trying to keep her safe. He was complicated like that.

She crouched down to get on eye level, his Xerces blue stare coiled with viper caution. There was little curiosity there, unusual for his 'kind', just a wild, animal instinct to puff up.

“Then why are you here?”

“Personal curiosity. I wanted to assess the situation for myself, and also, I always greet new Riddlers when they show up. And maybe to annoy Puzzles just a bit. Don't tell him, but he's cute when he gets all bratty. But it's all right, I don't think he-”

“Don't talk about him like that!” the piano string snapped, its metaphorical twang mirrored by the hand that whipped out after her neck. The fingers met her shields, not with a crash, but with a simple cessation of forward movement. She could see him pushing, straining against the force that solidified the atoms around his hand, see him eventually give in and draw back.

“Oh my.” she said quietly. “You're really going to have to get a handle on that. But I guess I get it. You owe him a solid, right? For helping you out.”

“What are you? How did you do that?” the woodwind lilt was even meeker than before, as if he hadn't just tried to tear her throat out.

“I didn't come into this situation with nothing, darling. It's just that my weapons and armor are not as visible as most.”

“Then...I can't hurt you?”

She shrugged.

“It would take more than I think you can currently muster. Do you want to hurt me?”

“N-no. Not really. Just...just don't talk about him like that. He's better than us.”

She tilted her head. Us? She knew most Riddlers considered themselves to be on a higher level than everyone else, but this was the first time one had not considered themselves among that number.

“Than you? Are you not a Riddler too?”

“No! I mean...yes. But not really. I never earned it. I don't deserve it. They're perfect. I'm...broken.”

“Oh honey, are you really? It's okay, I might be broken too.”

“Broken and entering more like.” Puzzles said from the doorway, and she only jumped a little. “No, that was awful, I'm trying that again.”

“Good evening, Puzzles. As you can see, I was just-”

“Just doing what you do, I know. It's not that I haven't been expecting you to pop by, it's just that I'd thought this time you might wait for an escort. Don't know why I thought that, it's not as if you've ever shown an ounce of caution, but this might be, I don't know, a mitigating circumstance?”

You see, she mouthed to Narci, who scowled and reached out for her again.

“Narci.” Puzzles warned sharply. He drew back instantly.

“She's a liar.” he sulked. “She said she had permission to be here. And she called you a brat.”

Puzzles glanced down at her, lips pursed, and she lifted an eyebrow, daring him to deny it. He stepped closer to them, interposing himself to where he could get between them if necessary, crouching down to be on their level.

“She does have permission to be in my home. Mostly because no one seems to have any way of keeping her out. She is, however, a...friend. This is Helix, and I would like you to treat her nicely. She's...” He searched for a proper description. “Family-adjacent. She's one of those things that happened while you were gone.”

“I can't hurt her.” Narci said, still pouting a bit.

“That's the spirit.” Puzzles praised.

“No, I mean I can't. I really can't.”

Puzzles fixed Helix with a quizzical stare.

“Uh, well, he might have tried to touch me earlier. And found out he was unable to do so. So it's all fine! Nothing to worry about.”

Emerald eyes bored into her. Curiosity flavored the more or less good-natured irritation, and she knew this time she wouldn't be getting away without an explanation. Though not cruel by nature, Puzzles was a Riddler and, in his way, he'd draw the information out like a winkle from its shell.

And maybe it was about time he came to understand better what she was.

“Well...Don't try it again. She might not exactly be one of us, but she's earned a place. For instance...Do you remember Unswag?”

Helix frowned. Why would he bring that up? She still had very mixed feelings over what had happened there. Narci nodded, looking deeply uncomfortable. Unswag was one of those contentious topics, or at least, he had been once. Terribly dangerous, until she'd forced him to become something else. She hadn't meant for that to happen, but she couldn't change it now.

“Well,” Puzzles said. “She defeated him.”

“It was an accident.” she muttered, and Puzzles elbowed her as Narci's eyes went wide with awe.

“Yeah.” he continued. “Bested him so decisively that he doesn't even look the same anymore. Just remember that. She might not look like much-”

“Hey!”

“-but she's got the respect of the proper people.”

Narci still stared up at her like she was something unexpectedly amazing. He held his hands out, in supplication rather than aggression. Something, some little spark of his desperation reminded her so much of how lost she had once been. She dropped her magic shields and, ignoring Puzzles swift intake of breath, drew Narci into a careful embrace.

The boy froze for a moment, entirely unsure what to do, thawing slowly, his hands ghosting over her sides until they came to her hips. His fingers dug in suddenly, then he jerked, flinging her away into Puzzles waiting arms, and crumpled to the floor begging forgiveness. “I think he likes you.” Puzzles murmured into her ear. “Now get out.”

He shoved her into the hall and grabbed the doorknob.

“Wait!” Narci cried. “Can she stop me? If I...Can she stop me?”

Puzzles uncertain gaze flicked to the hall where he'd pushed her. She smiled gently back.

Artist: me

Artist: @miasmacaron​

Artist: @cardwrecks​

[delphiniumarchangelmoon]

Okay but the trailer looked??? Futuristic?????

We might not be getting an identical game to PLA, I wouldn’t be surprised if this one was set in the future

And I don’t know how the catching mechanic would work cause I saw a tweet saying it’s in lumiose city specifically which, while a HUGE area, is certainly no Husui

I think we’re gonna get a completely new play style and while yeah, I wish I could ball-spam my way through kalos too, I’m really excited to see what they bring to the table story wise!

The one thing I think will absolutely be carrying over from PLA is the focus on expanding previously established stories and giving answers to a lot of questions.

In PLA we got things like “how to poke balls work” “why was spear pillar destroyed” and “who were the ancient people of sinnoh”

And in this game—if it’s futuristic— I’m expecting focus on stuff like

What is the next technological step for pokemon research and training

What are the long term consequences of the plot of x and y

How does Kalos’ culture change over time (it was a very past-revering region—exploring castles, rediscovering ancient was machines, etc. but how does that change or stay the same as technology develops?)

But if we are looking at a region set in the past I can only assume it will be after PLA and deal with

The first proper pokemon training culture developing

Possibly the first “evil team” organization?

What lead to the creation of team flare and why they were motivated to destroy the world

And upon looking at Zygarde’s dex entries I can also assume with fair certainty that this “urban restoration” or whatever it was is going to be heavily environmentally based, as Zygarde’s dex entries state that it appears when Kalos’ environment has fallen into disarray

I can only see two possible (good) settings for this then:

Post Industrial Revolution (heavy pollution, set in the largest city, etc.)

Set in the post-modern day, say 40-50 years from now, in a post climate-change environment

The first seems…more likely? For the pokemon team to try and accomplish—although they have been straying further into risky topics as of late with things like capitalism, child neglect, and even genocide being plot points in recent games.

I can just much more easily picture a “what if” scenario about the pokemon world just, sidestepping the post-industrial issues our world has due to having pokemon at their disposal rather than say a sort of dystopian future based on our own world’s current trajectory. That would be a bit dark and not possible to just… casually gloss over like the celestica people plot point on PLA

However the futuristic nature of the trailer is just boggling my mind. Maybe that’s all a red herring and the next trailer will look more like PLA but it looked like a dang computer.

[floef-likes-everything]

Wingman

Hi! I've just posted a new chapter of my (now almost finished) MCC/Evo centered fic called Wingman! I'll give you the summary here, and a bit of the most recent chapter furhter down (which does include spoilers, I have you know).

Grian hasn’t left the Hermitcraft Server since he joined. There was no reason, as everything he’d knew before it was destroyed because of his own poor decisions. So when some of the Hermits convinced him to come and support them in this competition they were about to compete in, Grian didn’t expect his past to catch up to him so quickly.

He definitely didn’t expect to become the wingman of his presumed dead friend.

p.s it also has a little bit of flowerhusbands for those interested :]

Grian stumbled and landed on the edge of a cliff, nearly falling down into the depths of the earth. He scrambled backwards, his hands riffling through the fresh grass and dirt as the fresh new Server came to life. Grian could feel in his bones that this Server hadn’t served any other purpose before this, the landscape around them was waking up to their presence.

As Grian turns to sit on his knees, he found his friends in similar states of disarray. Mini had spawned on top of a rather big birch tree, Pearl padded the dirt of her knees and Jimmy lay flat on his back and had crushed a rose bush. Scott popped up from behind Grian, probably having spawned near the edge of the cliff like Grian had.

Martyn stood in the middle of them like nothing had happened to him. As if he had expected this jump. He had his arms crossed and a stoic expression on his face. Yet, for a moment Grian thought he saw a glint of a tear in his eye before Jimmy started to shout and Martyn looked away.

“What the hell Martyn?” he shouted as he sat right up, rose petals sticking to his hair.

“Don’t shout, Timmy,” Martyn answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can hear you perfectly well.”

“Then please explain the meaning of this,” Jimmy scrambled to his feet, wildly gesturing to the environment around them.

“You all wanted to ‘talk it out together’ so badly that you are now a part of this!” Martyn spat back. He was still frozen in place but facing Jimmy. “I – it was supposed to be just Grian.”

“What is so important that you have to kidnap me to an entire other Server – which I don’t even know how you managed to set up, by the way – and act so suspicious about it?” Grian asked as he pushed himself up from the ground. He had the inclination feelings were going to get hurt tonight, this could all end very badly.

“You’ll see,” Martyn said, evading both the question and eye contact with Grian. “I’m sorry to have pulled all of you into this, but it never would’ve happened in the first place if Grian never sided with… them.”

The world rumbled at the word, literally. Grian noticed the slightest vibration, something similar to the moment before a sand or gravel bank was about to break away from under you. A chill went up his spine and he realized that they were very much not alone. They were being watched.

“Martyn,” Grian said, his voice just a whisper as the realization hit. “What have you done?”

“I did what I had to!” the answer came in an angered shout and Martyn unfolded his arms and made fist of his hands. “I needed answers, Grian! I needed closure!”

[brainfuzzz]

Old Truths Ch. 1 "The Truth"

Yep, another Crocodile learns that he's Luffy's mother fic because why not? Also, I'm making him the Snake Princess before Hancock because I'm already in Crocomom hell so why not pile on more to it, right? Expect a reunion with Dragon as Crocodile goes on a journey for the truth and eventually finds peace.

One week, seven days, 10,080 minutes and the pain in his chest has yet to go away. Physically he is fine. He’s dragged several doctors into their hotel room to prove that. But still, here he is, unable to pull himself from this bed. Unable to eat more then a bite of food a day. Unable to even hurl the smallest of insults and threats to the hotel manager when he comes banging on the door demanding payment or to vacate the room. Daz Bones is the only reason he’s been able to save face from the public, but even he’s growing restless now wondering how Crocodile can be in such a state. Whenever he does ask when they will be leaving, all Crocodile can manage is “I’m tired.”

            Sengoku’s announcement of Dragon’s son is still fresh in his mind. He pulls the covers over his head as if that could stop the memory from replaying over and over again. It doesn’t of course. After a moment of hiding his face, he pulls the sheet down and sits up. Daz side-eyes him from the edge of his own bed, silently wondering if his old boss has finally pulled himself together. Crocodile glances at his reflection in the window, barely recognizing the face staring back. He touches the scarred skin just under the dark circles that have formed under his eyes. There seems to be more wrinkles then usual and with his hair in complete disarray he looks like a mad old man. The announcement trills in his ears again. He closes his eyes until it passes.

            “Enough,” he says, but if it’s to himself or to the memory, even he doesn’t know. He turns away from his reflection and swings his legs over the side of the bed. The floorboards are cool under his bare feet and creaks from his weight as he crosses the space to the washroom. He distracts his thoughts with the routine process of showering. He slicks his hair back, leaving one strand to fall down the side of his face and lets himself go in his familiar grooming patterns. After freshening up, his reflection already looks better. More normal. The dark circles under his eyes are still there but there’s nothing he can do about that now. He starts to reach for the door when the image of that kid screaming next to Portgas D. Ace’s body pierces his mind. He freezes, the familiar ache that has plagued him for the past week throbbing in his chest. Then, a new cry. A single cry from his past brings him to his knees. He lifts his trembling hand and left arm to cover his ears. Desperate to block out that single cry.

            Images from his past flash behind his eyes. Wincing at every memory he grits his teeth trying to will the thoughts away. He must have made to much noise because Daz knocks on the washroom door.

            “Should I send for another doctor?” there’s a small hint of annoyance in his voice. Crocodile can’t blame him. It’s not like they’re friends or anything and he hasn’t been acting like his usual self lately. Crocodile steadies his breathing and ignores the pounding in his chest. With shaky legs he gets to his feet, attempting to collect himself. When the trembling ebbs away, he opens the door and steps out.

            “There’s something I have to do before we head out to the New World.” He says while pulling on clothes. Daz says nothing but crosses over to help with any buttons and laces. Once Crocodile is dressed, he turns to Daz, directly looking at him for the first time in a week. “While I do this, I have a condition. You cannot ask me any questions or ask why we are doing what we are about to do.”

            Daz stares, expression never changing before finally saying, “Fine.”

            Crocodile pulls a cigar out of his coat pocket. Daz lights it, a familiar action that they both find a small sense of comfort in. He leads Daz out of the room feeling weight on his chest with every step. He focuses on his breathing and the taste of his cigar. He won’t let himself crumble ever again.

            They steal a ship and head out. It’s just small enough that both he and Daz can manage it on their own. Crocodile is already forming plans to gather a new crew in the back of his mind while the forefront focuses on his current goal. Daz stays true to his word and never asks a question. He’s never been a big talker to begin with. A trait Crocodile is once again grateful for. Their destination is far and won’t be easy to reach. When they do reach the Calm Belt, Daz frown’s deeper then usual. Confusion apparent in his disapproval. Crocodile positions himself behind the main sail.

            “We don’t have the luxury of having sea prism stones on the ship or poisonous sea kings to deter the other beasts away, so expect a fight every step of the way.” Crocodile summons his sand and sends a swirling mini sandstorm just behind the sails, creating enough wind to keep the ship moving. Daz’s arms turn into blades and not even a second later, the first sea king appears.

            By the time they are even halfway through the Calm Belt they are both worn out from battling the beasts of the sea. The port side has a massive bite mark where one had managed to sink its teeth into their ship and the hull is covered in gashes. But other then that, it’s fine. When Amazon Lily comes into view, Crocodile can feel Daz staring holes into the back of his head. He ignores him and takes in the sight of the island. The place he thought he would never return to. He can’t help but give a sad chuckle. Life keeps throwing him for a loop with no signs of stopping.

            As they grow closer to the island, he begins to make out a familiar vessel anchored close to the island shores. His heart drops to his stomach. The yellow submarine that had carried the kid away along with Jinbei comes into view with its crew resting in front of a wall with the Snake Princesses symbol.

            They brought him here.

            This hadn’t been the plan. His chest aches with heart palpitations while his breathing is quickly becoming labored. He reels himself in as quick as possible. Had he been alone he would have dropped to the floor, letting his face fall into his hand, and focused on calming his heartrate and breathing. But he’s already shown to much weakness in front of Daz. So, he stays strong and ignores his frantic heartrate and fights off the shaking in his legs. Two familiar faces spot him from the shore. One is Jinbei, covered in bandages, the other is a man he doesn’t yet know but vaguely remembers seeing a wanted poster for someone named Law. Law clutches his sword ready for a fight, but Jinbei holds his hand out to stop him. When he disappears into the water, Crocodile takes a long drag of his cigar and doesn’t release the smoke until the fish man is climbing onboard his ship.

            “What are you doing here, Crocodile?” he stands, ready to fight even in his current state, but Crocodile has no interest in fighting him.

            “I’m not here for you, so calm down.” he sits on the railing of his ship. “I never expected that you would bring him here, but now that I think about it, the Snake girl was saying something about Garp being a grandfather-in-law or something of that caliber.”

            He shudders at the thought.

            “If you are not here for Luffy, then why have you come to Amazon Lily?” Jinbei doesn’t lower his guard. Crocodile takes another long drag of his cigar. Luffy.

            “I’m here to see the old lady, Gloriosa.” Crocodile says with an exhale of smoke. Jinbei stares in confusion. Daz hides his own but its still there. “Tell the old hag to meet me on the other side of the island and to come alone. If she doesn’t, then I’ll be happy to drag her out myself.”

            Jinbei finally lowers his guard, frowning at Crocodile. “You saved Luffy and myself in Marineford, so I will do you this service. Though I question your motives behind it.”

            He begins to turn back towards the island when Crocodile finds himself blurting, “Don’t…”

            He stops, staring over his shoulder at Crocodile. Crocodile keeps his face pointed in the opposite direction, not trusting himself to not give too much away. “Don’t tell the kid that I was here.”

            Jinbei says nothing else before dropping into the ocean. Crocodile has his ship circle to the other side of the island. He has Daz drop him off on the shore and then take the ship out a small way so that he might have some privacy. Crocodile leans against a tree, smoking his cigar, cursing himself for being as nervous as he is. He needs to know the truth, but a small part of him just wants to jump back onto the ship and sail away. He snuffs that feeling out quickly. He will not be coward. When footsteps approach from within the jungle, he stands up straight ready to face the old hag again.

            “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here, man,” her voice is as old and shrill as ever. She finally emerges from the shadows of the trees, frowning and gripping at her snake that she uses as a cane.

            “Granny Nyon,” Crocodile lets the words drip from his mouth, enjoying the sight of her freezing over at the sound of that name being spoken so casually. “It’s been a long time.”

            “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” Her grip on the snake tightens, her expression serious. “How dare you call me that.”

            “Haven’t we? If I recall the last time I saw you, you were screaming for me to return to the island. Now you want me to leave again? Very rude of you.” Crocodile wears his usual grin. There’s something about staring down someone who is clearly intimidated by him that gets his blood pumping. Granny Nyon stares at him, wide eyed, refusing to believe what she must realize is true. He does look much different then when he lived as a woman. But the similarities are still there and only those who truly knew him back then would be able to pick them out. Granny Nyon begins to shake.

            “You,” her voice is hushed, tears building up in her eyes. “But I heard that you died!”

            “I did, in a way. The old me died so that the person you see before you can thrive.” He leans against the tree again, the anxiety from before nowhere to be found. This was more liberating than he thought it would be.

            “But why? Why would you do this to yourself? As a final act of rebellion? To make it where you could never return home?” she’s raising her voice. To confused and distraught for any of it to make sense.

            “I did this to be myself!” his voice is rising to match hers. They stare at each other, silence falling on them both. After what feels like a lifetime, her face softens as she slightly leans against her cane.

            “I see,” she says, eyes averted from his. “Have you always felt this way?”

            “Always.” His breathing is returning to normal, and his pulse slows to its normal rate. She nods, finally understanding.

            “Very well, then I will find peace in the fact that you are alive and living the life you were meant to live.”

            Crocodile has never needed her approval for anything, least of all this. But still, knowing that she isn’t disapproving of him calms him more then he realized it would.

            “You may have come from Amazon Lily and even been a past Princess, but the fact remains that men are not allowed on this island.” Even as she says it, she knows she’s a hypocrite. Crocodile grins, he knew she would say this no matter the outcome and he’s never been bothered by it. But the fact that there is an entire crew of men anchored on the other side of the island makes this conversation hilarious to him.

            He arches a brow, “A rule that seems to be broken at the moment.”

            She sighs in frustration, “That Hancock is going to be the death of me! One man I can deal with. But an entire crew? What is that girl thinking? Nothing, that’s what.”

            Crocodile takes a small bit a pleasure in knowing that the tradition of giving this woman hell is still going strong. She begins to turn back towards the forest, assuming their interaction is over.

            “This isn’t why I’ve returned to Amazon Lily.” Now his words are laced with venom. She pauses before slowly turning to face him. He stares down at her with the same malice as he would any other victim caught in his clutches. “Seventeen years ago, before I left this island. You told me that my child died in childbirth. Is that true?”

            The color drains from her face. Her ghastly expression answering the question he has been asking himself since Marineford. Since Sengoku announced that Dragon has a son. But he needs hear her say it.

            “Answer me!” his sand swirls around them. she grips her cane for courage.

            “No, it is not true.” Her words pierce him deeper than any sword. He feels tears forming in his eyes but pushes on.

            “And that child, was it a girl?” his voice is faltering.

Granny Nyon closes her eyes before opening them and saying, “No, the child was a boy. You gave birth to the first boy born on Amazon Lily.”  

Read the story HERE on AO3!!!

[dewdropreader]

So I’ve been tagged by the lovely @insert-witty-user-name-here for this WIP game! Thank you as always for thinking of me for these, they’re always lots of fun!

Rules: Pick five fragments from your unfinished WIPs and then tag five people to keep it going. Let’s have fun with it and help each other shape those fragments into published fics!

I only actually have four to pick from that actually have full enough sections written! I have plenty others with outlines and ideas but these four have enough to actually pull snippets from lol. Hope you enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on any and all of them!

This first one is from a WIP that probably won’t be a WIP much longer. I’m going to do one more quick edit and then post either tonight if I’m not too exhausted, or tomorrow sometime! It’s one that’s been wallowing in a 2/3 finished state for a while, despite me loving the premise, something wasn’t clicking but I think I got it to where I want! Still toying with a bit of the flow but I’m enjoying it so far! So hopefully if you enjoy this snippet you’ll get to read the whole thing soon if you’re interested!

“Nah. You’re incredibly clever, Loki. Brilliant, even— that’s one of my favorite things about you. But I’ve been at this a long time, I’m pretty clever where it counts too.”

Loki is looking at Mobius with a sort of raw bewilderment. Loki has never met someone like him before, neither afraid of him nor purely reverent despite the kind (and seemingly genuine) compliments, nor overly cruel to him. Mobius is teetering on some line between omnipotence and overwhelming averageness, and yet he is remarkable regardless. Mobius had managed to read him and crack open every shell Loki has built around himself. He could blame that on the horrifying enormity of the TVA but he thinks without Mobius' mix of aggressive hounding and gentle curiosity he would have never admitted those fragile ideas that he’s kept hidden for so long, would have never allowed anyone else to know that he doesn’t enjoy hurting people and that deep down he feels like an exposed, horrified child with no one to reach for, the picture of weakness.

So, he hasn’t figured out where he stands with Mobius yet. He isn’t a friend, really, but yet he is also a force of relative calm and amiability in the face of Loki’s world imploding.

Loki stifles a cough and looks away. “Right,” he returns his gaze to Mobius’, forcing a look of attempted calm. “I’m sure we’ll see.”

Loki would usually feel much more threatening when saying something so bold, but he’s so worn down and exhausted he isn’t even surprised that Mobius doesn’t step back or furrow his brows in concern.

Instead, Mobius just claps his hands with a sort of finality. He doesn’t comment on the way Loki flinches slightly at the sound, but he drops his hands fairly quickly. “So, can I get you anything before bed?”

Loki sighs with only a hint of petulance. “Well, you can’t get me out of here, so I don’t believe so.”

-

Not too too much of it is written (a lot is outlined but less actually fully written) but here is a snippet from the beginning of chapter 6 of With You Through the Storms (Aka the cat fic!)

Now that Loki and Mobius are back together, it’s somehow like not much has changed even if in some ways everything has.

They fall back into a version of their routine as if Loki was never gone. Mobius’ body has to adjust to suddenly having the desire to get out of bed again and not needing to sleep as soon as he gets home, and Mobius has to stamp down the misplaced shame as he realizes how many brisk afternoons he missed and how much he’s let his life go into disarray. He slowly picks up the pieces, doing laundry that has gone undone for weeks and doing dishes and cleaning the floors. Loki helps him without any disparaging words, and Mobius is forever grateful.

The main difference now is that they are touching and looking at each other even more than before. They were always very tactile, and sent smitten looks across the room fairly often, but now it feels like a weird sort of honeymoon phase, neither one wanting to risk losing the other again. Mobius has even caught himself bumping into things because his gaze lingers too long on Loki when moving around the house. He knows there’s something perhaps a bit codependent about it all, and doesn’t expect such intensity to last forever, but for now, in this wildly exciting yet tumultuous time, he is willing to ignore it. He just wants to make sure everything is good again, that neither of them falls into the self loathing traps that separated them in the first place.

-

This is from a super brief section of something I started to write for flufftober before realizing I had no time to properly do flufftober lol. I started a Lokius piece where I wanted to do snippets focusing on the five love languages and how they happen with their relationship, and the only part I wrote was for words of affirmation. I do actually hope to finish this one just as it’s own thing, but I’m not sure when that will happen! Tbh I sort of forgot about it until I went searching through my WIPs for this, I’m not sure why though because the parts I did write I rather enjoyed.

The second time he notices, Loki is somehow caught off guard despite retrospect saying that it probably happened more than he’d even noticed. And the fact that he hasn’t been noticing, that he isn’t his usually shrewd and careful self… Well, that’s a bit concerning.

Mobius glances up from his paperwork as Loki plops down in the seat across from him.

“You look very handsome today, Loki,” Mobius smiles softly.

Loki’s lips press together as he lets his brain catch up. Is Mobius just being friendly to get him to do something? Or, is there a small chance Mobius noticed the extra attention Loki paid to his hair this morning? He’s been doing his best to work with what he does have—his hair, face, and drab outfit— trying to make himself feel… well, like himself. Without his usual clothing or magic to change his looks at will, he’s had to get creative, and that has especially meant toying with his hair and experimenting with Mobius’ strange hair products that smell like various spices.

Mobius hasn’t lingered on Loki, isn’t watching him for a tell like he is trying to get a specific reaction. He just gave the compliment and has moved on.

—

This last one is from an attempt at one of the Loki Bingo prompts, “disorientation”, I had two ideas and wrote this one, but I’m not sure what happened, I just was not feeling it. Something about it felt weirdly either detached or OOC or both, like it works and reading it I’m not affronted by it but I just was not into it enough to finish editing and posting it. Maybe I still will do something with it, we’ll see, but here is a snippet regardless!

Mobius is up and moving towards him in an instant. Classic is awake, on duty, and notices the commotion, but just looks at Loki with a quiet look of pity and understanding.

Mobius settles down at Loki’s side, a hand falling naturally to the small of his back, muscle memory from guiding him through TVA halls. Loki is shuddering slightly, his muscles quivering with pent up nerves, like a rubber band about to snap.

Loki is staring past Mobius, out into the field of the void, into the nothingness. His lips are parting and closing, soft noises escaping, unintelligible at first.

“Loki?”

Loki doesn’t respond, but his murmuring gets ever so slightly louder, enough for Mobius to make it out.

“Mobius. Mobius, no, please. Please, no, don’t kill him. He’s good. He’s good, don’t kill him. Kill me, prune me, not him. Not him.”

Mobius’ heart aches, his stomach twisting into knots. Loki must have had a nightmare, something so terribly vivid that he hasn’t come back to reality yet. He’s been through so much, especially recently, Mobius knows it’s probably all too overwhelming. His brain is probably at its breaking point, full to the brim of fears old and new, trying to make sense of everything, and now he’s short circuiting from the wash of panic of a nightmare.

“Loki, hey,” Mobius tries. “Loki, look at me. It’s Mobius, I’m here, I’m alive. We’re both alive.”

As for people to tag, I think everyone I would tag has already been tagged 😂 but I’ll tag y’all again, but no rush on this of course! Just tagging some of those who I love the work of even if you’ve already been tagged!

@starport-seven-five @mirilyawrites @lgwilt @blackbirdofasgard @cha-melodius

[redrobin-detective]

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand. 

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.” 

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along. 

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group. 

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down. 

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear. 

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest. 

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray. 

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.” 

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

[myrulia]

omg hi >_<

i just saw your prompt event, congrats on the 600, you deserve more <3

could i possibly get 14? whatever genre you want, go all out, thank you so much :)

.｡.:*✧Prompt 14: "I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Yandere themes, abduction, shibari

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: I'm just accepting one follower at a time, 600 is still a lot!

Every night, he would follow you.

Every night, he would put you out of harm's way from the shadows.

Every night, he desired you dearly.

Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Moon One, has harbored feelings for you since he first saw you in your village one night, you walking without a care in the world despite other worldly creatures such as himself having the advantage. You were a human as well, so it was naturally wrong for a demon to develop feelings for the one thing he eats, no?

Of course, the demon has taken this into consideration, but each time he thinks of your face, a nostalgic wave hits him hard in the head, causing his senses to be knocked off for just a bit. Due to you being the cause of this, he wanted to get to the bottom of it as much as possible. 

This proved to be rather difficult.

Over time, the more he tried to figure out reasons as to why he felt this way when he saw your face, and everytime he would come in dangerous proximity with you, his feelings developed more and more to a feral lust of love. Love for you.

The day he found out about this was the day he was just a few feet away from you. Him being in a dark alley, and you walking down the pathway beside it. He got such a picture perfect view of your face and the warming smell of your scent that his addiction to you in general grew even more.

Kokushibou is indeed an honest man and will not deny that he has feelings for you, so now in that same realization, he also believes that you belong to him for those reasons.

He had watched over you so much and protected you without you knowing knowing he felt a sense of entitlement to having you - after all, he did do all of this when he is a man-eating creature bound to the night. He immediately thought that these sacrifices he made towards his goal was all the reason that he should achieve it.

The days that he spent without you near him made the male grow restless in his own skin as his mind wavered to you each and every time he tried to meditate for peace and resolve, but this also failed.

So without a second thought, tonight was the night that he would make you his, whether there were others there or not, his goal shall be achieved. 

He traveled swiftly so that the mission he set his eyes on since the beginning would finally come to an end before the sun rose, giving him a limited amount of hours of leisure time. So with that, it only motivates Kokushibou to move faster. 

Before he knew it he found himself in the same alleyway where he got the first full glimpse of your face, giving him that same warm - almost human like feeling within his undead heart. Just like before, as if the moment was replaying all over again, there you were walking down the same path, yet this time, you stopped.

You stopped and stared.

Kokushibou expected a scream of terror, but instead he was met with your dumbfounded expression.

`` Who are you? ``

You asked with such gentleness, moving closer towards the mysterious figure who was just as dumbfounded as you were, but something inside his nervous system edged him forward, his hand raising to touch you.

`` Who are you talking to, [Y/N]-san? ``

Before the demon could process his next choice of actions, his own body betrayed him by pulling you into the alleyway with him and into his chest. Your face only grew in more confusion, but a large hand covered your mouth before you could give voice to the situation.

`` [Y/N]-san? [Y/N]-sannn?? ``

The stranger's voice called out, but with no response, the human simply turned around in the opposite direction and went about their night as if nothing happened. Pulling his hand away slowly as said person leaves, Kokushibou turns his head and tilts his chin down to get a better look at your state, only to find you staring at his facial features with such enticement and curiosity in your eyes.

Seeing you in such ways sent the demon's feelings in disarray once more. It was as if he was in the past again, because standing before him, from over 400 years ago, was his former human wife. He looked around, lost in his own memory before your voice called out to him, bringing him from the small flashback.

`` Sir, do I know yo- hey wait! ``

Suddenly you were thrown over Kokushibou's shoulder and felt the chilled wind on your face as you moved with such speed out of the village that you were left utterly astonished. Yes, you did know that demons exist and their natural diet is humans, but something told you this one was different - and you were always raised to trust your judgement.

Although curiosity does kill the cat.

`` Where are you taking me? Who are you and why are you abducting me?! ``

`` We will be home soon. ``

That was all that came from the demon's lips, and just like that you found yourself in a massive building with rooms and staircases coming from every direction. Your eyes tripled in size, being truly taken aback by your new surroundings and how it seemed impossible to be true.

Kokushibou opened a door to a certain room in what he knew was the Infinity Fortress, setting you down on your bottom - but being quick in his moments he tied you up with a specific type of shibari you have not seen before. It was the type you had seen samurai use in the books provided by your caregivers, but the one before you looked nothing of the samurai you saw in your books.

The thing before you was unmistakably a demon.

A man eating-demon that now had you as its prey.

Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, doubting your judgement and kind spirit from the very beginning and even allowing yourself to become so easy of a target. You pushed yourself by your feet until your back hit a wall, skin trembling in fear at what your future holds. Kokushibou merely took slow strides in your direction, kneeling down and using his index finger to lift your chin up so he could examine your face better.

`` It is no mistake, you are meant to be here, my love from so long ago. ``

You jerked your head back, lips trembling to get any sort of words out, but as you got a visible view of the demon's fangs, worry set in your bones.

`` I have no cl..clue what you speak of, but we have not met before. ``

Kokushibou tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, moving so that his much bigger form was looming over your own.

`` You in this time period may not remember, but you from the past does. You have always been mine, and this has sealed it. Our fates tie together, my dear. ``

You had no idea what the man before you spoke of, but you too felt a nostalgic feeling as he grew closer and closer, although the fear that latched onto your nervous system would not let go.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand touched your cheek, your gazes never daring to tear away from each other. With your hands tied it was not like you could escape so easily, as well as your legs being tied together so that you could not run either. You were helpless and out of control of your situation, tears pricking your eyes at this fact.

`` I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time. We will now be together again, my love, and nothing can change that. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[impulsivefanwriter]

A Tiny Spark Leads to a Roaring Flame (But Flames Can Always be Doused by Water)

Heeyyyyy so y’all know the Reverse Thanos Snap AU for SPBNR? Basically everyone but Smith/S!Kai gets sent to the M!verse. Everyone. The entire population of S!verse Ninjago City & a few surrounding areas. Except poor Smith. Essentially it happens because S!Garmadon tries to send Smith to a place where he can't mess with his plans, and ends up sending everyone away from Smith to take him out of the equation. 

The second part to this AU is that the S!Ninja end up searching for Kai in the chaos and grab the Red Ninja before jetting out of there with the Bounty. Except... they didn’t grab Smith (who’s still home), but rather Red (M!Kai).

Red thinks the S!Ninja are babysitter clones created by Garmadon after he somehow turned Lloyd younger without his memories & is trying to raise him to be his new General #1. With this in mind, he pretends to be S!Kai, and waits for the moment he can rescue Lloyd.

What would happen in the S!Ninja discovered his deception/their mistake of grabbing a wrong Kai and mistake Red for a recreated Aki (aka Bizarro Evil Clone Kai) before he could enact his plan?

Well, this is that idea. (Title inspired by how a crack AU spiralled into a beautiful angst-fest)

Enjoy. :3

-----*-----

Red was going to get Lloyd out of here tonight. 

Away from these Not-Friends made by Garmadon to emulate the Ninjaforce. Away from this flying ship built to emulate Master Wu's ship, so familiar and yet so off. Away from this false reality and back to the real everything where they could hopefully get his memories back and his age back and everything back to the way it was before the city descended into chaos.

He just had to... bide his time. Be patient. 

FSM, he was bad at being patient. 

His hands itched to grab Lloyd and run now, but he was horribly outnumbered and without his mech. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't rush this. If he did, he would make everything worse. Like he always did.

But fate- or rather, Lloyd- had other plans.

The little version of his younger brother- yes, they were roughly the same age normally, shut up, Lloyd was still his younger brother- had been... eying him weird all morning. Not like Not-Jay and Not-Cole and Not-Zane, but like Not-Nya. Like he actually knew instead of suspected. These babysitter clones seemed to think he was the Not-Kai, and if that was the opportunity the universe was going to give him, then by the flames of the departed world was he going to skip this chance to save Lloyd.

Currently he stood on the deck of the ship as they parked in the sky a few meters above the docks on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't the docks with the Bounty warehouse, curse his luck, but it wasn't the endless sky or the empty ocean (though it was still too close to that murky, haunting water for his liking. Water was his sister's domain for a reason). At least he could sneak Lloyd off in the cover of night, maybe find someone in the city who wouldn't recognize the Son of Garmadon this way and would be willing to help them hide until they could make it back to the real ninja.

"Kai," Not-Zane spoke suddenly next to him. 

Red would never get used to the way his voice... lacked the same effect the real Zane's had. The effect that Kai and the rest of his team had assured their friend over and over was unique, special, but in a good way. To embrace it. That it wasn't noticeable, but when it was, that it was so Zane that his friends didn't care that it was different. 

This 'Zane' sounded much too different than his own. He hadn't recognized Kai's tested line of 'road work ahead' when they passed one of the many construction signs littering the city (even more so since the chaos happened a week ago), and instead had responded with 'a great deal of work to fix in the city'. 

Seriously, Garmadon, do better research on your clones.

Not-Zane was also much too... calm. Too 'wise' compared to the wild teen that was Zane. And he walked without heelies or whatever Zane used to slide around like a boss, though he was still silent. And that meant, like now, he snuck up on Red fairly often- and Red was training to be a Ninja, so that took serious talent. 

"Kai," Not-Zane said again, and Red finally broke his gaze from where he'd been staring over the railing, planning tonight's escape route. "Lunch has been made for over an hour. Are you alright?"

Red forced his brightest smile. "Course I'm alright! Just trying to figure out what happened, as usual."

Why Lloyd was suddenly like, 8, and without his memories. Why the Not-Friends were on this Not-Ship and had mistaken him for Not-Kai. Why the city was in a state of disarray and chaos. 

Not-Zane studied him, then turned to give the city a sad look. "I'm not sure myself. My scanners can't seem to figure out what is happening. It is as if... blocked by some force."

Red winced, then expertly disguised the move by leaning against the rail. Zane never would use 'my scanners', despite how often Red and the others assured him it was okay. Yet another reason why this wasn't his friend.

"You know Ninjago City," Red said with a weak laugh. "Always one crisis or another. Always those annoying Garmadon Attacks"

This seemed to satisfy Not-Zane, who nodded thoughtfully. "This event definitely seems to have Garmadon's hand in the mess."

He patted Red on the back. "Well, don't worry yourself ragged, Kai. Come in for lunch soon, alright? We have training for Lloyd later."

Ah, right. Training. AKA what Red assumed was how Garmadon was planning to shape this impressionable version of his friend into his new General #1.  

"I'm ready for training now, Zane!"

Speaking of Lloyd- 

The little gremlin came up from the hull with the rest of the Not-Ninja. Red hated when the entire group was together; it was way more difficult to act as Not-Kai around them, especially around Not-Nya. 

For starters, Not-Jay had a notch in his eyebrow that the real Jay never had. He was missing the iconic freckles, and the scarf, and the fluffy hair, though you could always say it was just a wardrobe change. What you couldn't change was the personality differences. This couldn’t be Jay. Jay was anxious and quiet, his jokes (while plentiful) said more timidly and his newest ideas shared with hesitance that only shrank after years of encouragement. He would never be this loud, ever. 

Not-Cole was the leader, probably because Lloyd was so young. But even then, in Red's team, Nya would probably take second-command. Cole was their sturdy support, yes, but he was chill, laid-back. Ready to follow and support his friends to the ends of the earth with his tunes and occasional sarcastic wit, but not lead. Not like Not-Cole, who was more serious and commanding and didn't. listen. to. music. Red hadn't spotted a single record or boombox in the room in the hull. That was a tragic oversight on Garmadon's part. The members of his research team should be Fired.

And then there was Not-Nya. Who wore a dress with confidence that his sister would love but never publicly wear. Who had short hair- Nya had tried that style once, and decided it itched around her neck too much- and jewelry, and a giant flying Samurai mech suit. His sister had the Water Strider Mech, and Not-Nya had a flying combat suit. Sure. Close enough. Personality-wise they were similar. 

Similar at first glance. Nya was fluid and adaptable to whatever role she needed filling. She was spunky, and as fiery as him when it came to tempers, though she knew how to keep hers in check (she had to, right? No one called her hot-headed and impulsive and reckless and blamed her temper for mistakes or damage or whatever the news comments liked to say about the Fire Mech). Not-Nya was also adaptable and independent-minded, but she seemed more rigid. More doing her own thing. 

Point was, everyone wasn't actually his friends, despite how much they tried to prove they were. And they kept acting like he was this Not-Kai, who was just as hot-headed but apparently more mature and training-oriented and basically the better, cooler (or hotter, perhaps, for the fire theme of the red ninja) him, since his acting never seemed to fully convince them. Trying to impersonate a standard he couldn't seem to reach, some legendary hero he wasn't- er, wasn't yet! Yeah! He just needed to prove himself, be better, and he'd be fine. Just... fine. Yeah.

Mini-Lloyd (Red was tempted to call him L'ilyod in his head, but that felt wrong somehow, like he was infringing on some kind of copyright law) stared at him like a goddamn falcon, and he wasn't talking about the bird that circled the ship. He had this bowl-cut Red would tease him about endlessly after all this was over- seriously, how had Mr. Fabulous Hair started with this mess? Garmadon probably didn't even have hair, so there was no way the guy knew how to style it, and it was very evident based on Mini-Lloyd's hairdo. 

Red noticed that all of them were staring, actually. Despite his relaxed rest against the rails, his fingers behind his back clutched the cool bar with a dull shake. He didn't notice how the metal seemed to glow red under his touch. 

"Training, right, we should get onto that," Red tried. "What do you want to start with, Lloyd?" 

"How about a little game?" Lloyd asked with complete innocence. "What we were playing last week before we got interrupted."

Oh sh!t. 

"I-I don't know, shouldn't we start with stretches? Or how about some sparring, that's always more fun than a game!"

"But I wanted to continue our game..." Mini Lloyd said, and FSM's sake, he couldn't deal with that pouting look.

Okay. Okay, don't panic. Think logically. What kind of game would an 8-year-old Lloyd like to play with him? Something physical, so no board games- he liked to test his mettle against Zane on those, and sometimes he would almost not-lose. Logic puzzles also fell more on Jay's area. Trivia, especially music trivia, was a bubble between the anxious motormouth and Cole. Video games fell on team building, and wouldn't classify as a training warmup.

"Well," Red said, taking a hopeful stab in the dark. "There's not too much space on the deck for... tag..."

Lloyd nodded, looking satisfied. The Not-Ninja looked- well, their expressions were hard to read because of how different it was compared to his friends. But Red was a master of deception (well, fire, but eh, technicalities), and he had them fooled, and he just had to keep it up until nightfall so he could rescue Lloyd and explain in a safe location-

"HE'S NOT KAI!"

Orrrrr improvise. Okay, yep, he could improvise. 

Red lunged forward and grabbed Mini Lloyd's wrist from where he had his hand extended in an accusatory point. He ducked under Not-Jay's attempts to grab him- fast, but not as fast as his Jay, his Jay who could disappear from an awkward social interaction in the span of a flickering lightbulb- and dragged his younger brother with him as he vaulted over the railing. Not-Zane almost managed to yank him back onto the Not-ship, but his icy grip caught only empty air as Red pulled Lloyd into a tight hold and ducked.

He hit the dock below with a stumble, rolling back onto his feet and taking off with a very stubborn green ninja in tow. It took all his strength to drag Lloyd (kicking and screaming like he was being kidnapped or something when Red was just trying to rescue him, for FSM's sake. Lloyd didn't know that, but he could still try to be at least a little more considerate.)

The wooden docks creaked and shuddered underfoot and Red grimaced; whoever rebuilt them after the latest Garmadon attack had shredded them like newspaper clearly hadn't wasted any unnecessary change. It certainly didn't help that Lloyd packed quite the punch for someone so small. Red definitely would come out of this with bruised shins and arms from where Mini Lloyd tried to push him away, but it would be worth it to keep his teammate, his younger brother, safe.

Then green filled his vision and broke his hold on Lloyd's wrist, sending him skidding across the dock planks as he was sent flying. When he finally rolled to a stop, neck and shoulder stinging from where the blast had caught him (no burns, just jitters like he'd been shocked), he had to take a few seconds to re-orient himself. Did the Not-Ship have cannons or something? What hit him from behind, so close it could have hit Lloyd?

Lloyd. Was Lloyd okay?

Red pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the bleeding scrapes on his hands and legs from where he'd gotten banged up by the splintered docks. His gaze, sharp and frantic, searched for signs of green. The warning of more blasts, the flash of the fabric of a gi, anything.

He spotted his brother in the arms of Not-Cole. No, no, no-

And suddenly Not-Nya was there, given a boost by Not-Jay. Her grip was as if she were wearing the robotic mech suit, harsh and powerful and near in-human. She threw Red back to the dock floor as her face twisted with the fury of a storming ocean. A resounding crack rang out over the harbour.

Red couldn't tell if it came from the planks under him or his own shoulder.

She pinned him to the wood, barking accusations and threats in his face faster than Not-Jay could talk. Red blinked through a haze of pain, trying to focus on her face and words. She was missing the beauty mark on her face, he noticed. Yet another tell she wasn't his sister.

"-scar on the wrong side-" And it was hard to hear again over the ringing in his ears. He tried to throw her off, get back to Lloyd, anything, but he was-

Useless. 

Her hands suddenly got in his face, slamming his left cheek to the wood. She was close- close to his face, close to his eye, close to his scar- pushing and prying as she tried to do something. Red picked up in his struggling, his attempts to free himself turning to desperate shoves and wild clawing like a trapped animal. He wouldn't let this creation of Garmadon's finish the job that teen had started all those years ago. 

"Or better yet, he needs to shut his damn mouth."

The flash of a knife. His vision half-blurry. Blood- so much blood- and a lasting scar.

"-contacts-" "-red-" "-struggling-" "-we know what he- it- is already-" "-not the real Kai-" "-wish-" "-Garmadon-"

He had to get away. Get Lloyd away from them now.

In one surge of strength- and yep, his shoulder definitely wasn't okay after that move, as if he'd ripped it not just from its socket but from its very attachment to his body- he knocked Not-Nya aside. If he could’ve seen through the red haze, he might have noticed red embers dancing around his fingertips as his desperation and fear tapped into something deep in his soul.

He tried to shoot to his feet, tried to run for Lloyd (held so tight in Not-Cole's grip, surely they were hurting him, he couldn't let that happen-). He roared, "LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!", but before he could take another step through Not-Jay and Not-Zane in his path, the docks gave one last ominous shudder  before deciding it had finally had enough.

The planks crumbled underfoot like charred firewood in a crackling campfire, and Red was sent tumbling into the frigid ocean water below.

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes: hello again my loves! Thank you for all your likes, reviews and specially your comments! I love it when you make questions and in general let me know what you think about the chapter. Thank you once more for all your support!

XII.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that run so deep they refuse to stop bleeding.

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

A cold September afternoon welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets of Tokyo, ever so vibrant; full of life, people, delicious food, kaleidoscopic colors, laughter, children running…. Couples holding hands.

A tall man with a blindfold walked down a heavily transited sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and a small bag of pastries hanging off the side. Slowly, he made his way further away from the more concentric streets towards a park, he found a bench near a fountain and took a seat placing his bag right next to him.

The world remained the same and yet everything seemed to have changed, the days were now long and boring, conversations with people didn’t manage to hold his attention for long; missions were repetitive. Everything seemed… dull, opaque, flavorless, empty…

Everything, except perhaps his students who were the only sliver of hope he had left. Those kids would make it far in life, they were going to change the world and he was going to be there to help them along the way. A sad smile pulls at his peachy lips. You would have liked that. After all, the kids also enjoyed your company back in the day when you were still his. It was as if you had become their adoptive mother of sorts at some point. Your nurturing nature guided you to care for others.

A year ago when Yuuji was placed under his care and tutelage at Jujutsu High it had been hard for the boy. At the time the kid had just lost his only living relative and to top it off he also consumed the most powerful curse ever known to man kind.

He had so much responsibility on his shoulders Satoru couldn’t help but make the connection with himself when he was a kid his age. That’s how Satoru decided to take him home for dinner one night; he couldn’t have been more pleased with his decision. Of course, you adored Yuuji. His sweet snd enthusiastic personality, his polite manners and naiveté made him just endearing in your eyes.

Even Megumi, who barely spoke with his more taciturn approach asked about you. Satoru didn’t know how to answer. The dark haired boy would also come and visit your home to help you prepare some foreign delicacies you loved to cook. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his white hair.

***-Flashback-***

“So where’s Y/N-san? I haven’t seen her in a long time?” Asked Megumi right after Satoru returned from New York. It caught him by surprise

“She… she doesn’t live in Japan anymore” was all he said before changing the subject. Megumi looked at him with eyes wide open but decided not to pry.

Yeah… that probably was weird. Someone asks you about your spouse and you say they moved out of the country. It was pretty obvious what that meant.

***~End Flash Back~***

Sighing he opened the small paper bag containing his mochi, he loved his desert but lately he didn’t even have the will to indulge in sweets anymore. Satoru consumed insane amounts of sugar to stimulate his brain. The problem was that during the past year all that stimulation manifested in the form of vivid memories of you. Your voice, your smell, your presence. It was as if his brain chose to take him down the path to misery, as if to rub on his face what he could never have.

As of last week you were officially not Y/N Gojo anymore. He finally signed those blasted papers giving you your freedom and his capitulation.

It had been one of the worst days of his life.

After signing the divorce Satoru went straight to the liquor store where he found that exotic apricot liquor he liked in New York and bought a bottle. Once he made it back home he proceeded to get drunk out of his mind. The next morning he woke up by the pool, laying down on a tanning chair, wearing only a pair of boxers and hugging your wedding picture.

His head was killing him, at some point he had emptied his insides in the pool. A disgusted grimace reminded him he had to hire some help to take care of the house that was an absolute disaster, faithfully reflecting the state of its owner.

That morning, nursing a hangover he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life.

But hey! On the positive side he didn’t remember at all that night! Which means he ‘probably’ didn’t think about you (yeah right! As if he was ever not thinking about you) and how much he hated the fact you were not his Y/N Gojo anymore. You were not his wife anymore…

The memory made him want to cry like a baby. He lost the person he loved the most in his life because he had been one flaming idiot.

Despite all his efforts he could not forget you. Wherever he went, whatever he did… there you were, tormenting his waking and sleeping hours like his own personal curse.

He tried to get over you. He tried to be the asshole you knew him to be. He slept with so many women he couldn’t even count. But at the end of the night, in the throes of passion it was your face that he saw, your body that he craved, your flavor that he yearned and your name the one he called out when he climaxed.

He was absolutely fucked.

Revisiting memories of the last night he saw you he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been at the time. It took him so long to realize he had always been in love with you but Satoru, being well… himself, he didn’t want to see or admit that he had been head over heels, madly in love with you. He was a cynical bastard and that had cost him dearly. He chose to lie to himself thinking that THE Gojo Satoru was above all human weaknesses… including love. What an ignorant fucker he had been.

He wondered how you were doing and if you ever thought about him.

A frown made his handsome face look stern. Well… you were not alone anymore. Suguru also had stayed back in New York with you. After Satoru returned to Japan, Ijichi told him Geto Suguru wouldn’t be working out of Japan anymore. He had requested a transfer to the Americas.

Of course he did…

It had been one of the reasons Satoru fucked so many women. In his delusional mind he was ‘getting even’ with you for sleeping with Suguru. Not that he knew for a fact you were sleeping with him or not but… I mean….

Come on! It’s mother fucking Geto Suguru we are talking about here! 6’2 of pure sculpted muscles, tattoos and bad boy looks but with a Prince Charming complex. Yeah… Satoru was green with jealousy because he knew his former best friend was a better man for you than he ever was.

Looking down at his mochi bag he realized the small item had paid the price of his anger as he uncurled his death grip from the bag. Sighing he tossed the ruined pastry in the trash can to his left.

“Miss you….” He whispered to the wind.

———–

“I’m home!” You announced walking into your apartment. Setting you bag down as well as a couple of grocery bags “did you start dinner already?” You ask pleasantly surprised although you already knew the answer to that question since all the apartment smelled fantastic. Suguru walked out of the kitchen with a big smile wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cheff’ nods “yes! I figured I would give you a hand tonight!” He answered as you walked to him to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a chaste kiss on his cheek “thank you Sugu. How was your mission?” You asked deciding to set up the table while Suguru finished dinner. “Not too bad actually, it was a special grade but nothing I couldn’t deal with” you returned a bright smile “I’m glad”

Your friendship with Suguru had slowly evolved into something else. You both spent all of your free time together. Your connection was deeper than mere sexual attraction. Suguru truly understood you, cared for you, shared your dreams and hopes. He was the type of poetic soul who would stay awake with you well into the night just to talk about the stars, the book you read that week that you loved, the new music you liked. It was wholesome.

On the more carnal side you desired Suguru and he desired you but you hadn’t taken what was going on between you two further than a few passionate make-out sessions and some cuddling.

After you last saw Satoru everything became worse before it got better. Suguru had been your rock, he had been there for the sleepless nights you spent crying. Without a word he held you in his strong arms and allowed you to let go. He knew you were deeply wounded, your emotions in disarray and your mental stability in peril. But Suguru never asked anything from you, he gave you the strength to go on. To take care of yourself, to keep going with your career. To have… hope.

It seemed like a dream to think that your life had changed so much in the span of a year. You weren’t able to recognise yourself anymore. Pain and duress molded you into someone new, better, more resilient, harder to hurt.

At this point, the only person you fully trusted was Suguru, he was always honest with you, no matter what happened or how much something hurt, he always remained true to himself and to you.

It was impossible not to love someone like him. He was the whole package.

Suguru was handsome, that was indisputable. But Geto was more than a pretty face. He was kind, truly kind! He did things out of the goodness of his heart, not because he expected anything in return. He was honest, Suguru Geto would never lie to you and THAT is what you loved the most about him.

He was patient.

He wanted you to be his but at the same time Suguru wanted you to heal, to have the chance to trust and love again, not as a means to forget about Satoru but because you wanted to choose a new path for yourself.

After diner you helped with the dishes and then settled on the couch. Suguru joined with a smile and two glasses of wine. He handed you one and sipped on the other one “what would you like to watch tonight Kitten?” He asked sitting next to you while picking a movie from the titles available on the screen of the tv.

“Anything you like! It’s your turn to pick” you said with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder making Suguru smile. These tender displays of affection always made him feel so warm. Passing an arm around your shoulders he kissed your forehead.

You look up into his hazel eyes you blush. Suguru didn’t lose a second before he closed the space between your lips. The kiss was soft but meaningful, you didn’t hesitate to return it; wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to then climb on his lap straddling his hips.

The handsome sorcerer leans back, relaxing and running his hands slowly up and down your naked thighs covered only by the small fabric of your shorts, he strokes them softly leaving a path of warmth in the wake of his touch. Suguru deepened the kiss. His tongue delved in your mouth, slowly inviting yours to join the delicious dance. After a few minutes you pulled back, you are breathless. Your heart beats fast and the adrenaline was making you dizzy in anticipation.

Suguru looks at you, leaning his forehead against yours “I missed you” he ads before engulfing you in another passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to reply. This time his lips are more demanding, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, requesting entrance. His tongue still tastes like the wine and you recognize his addictive flavor. Suddenly you find yourself laying on your back on the white couch, Suguru is on top of you and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Things are getting much more heated than you anticipated. Your hands roam the expanse of his back over hard muscles and warm skin covered only by the thin layer of his t-shirt. You know if you keep going this way you won’t be able to stop.

https://youtu.be/yBatuRGZAmA

A part of you doesn’t want this to end, you want to go all the way with Suguru. But… as much as you hate it, there is a tiny part of you that feels ambivalent about it. You wonder why is that you can’t just… do it!? You want Suguru! God! You desire him more than you can express with words, the growing wetness between your legs is evidence that you indeed were very much sexually attracted to him and yet your mind kept torturing you.

It was… complicated.

Your marriage with Satoru have been over longer than that piece of paper you got last week said. But erasing your feelings wasn’t something you could ever hope to do.

As much as you wanted to give yourself to Suguru it felt wrong that you were holding a part of yourself back. You wanted to give him everything, he deserved EVERYTHING of you. It wouldn’t be fair to just have sex with him when he deserved to be made love to.

You love Suguru, everyday that goes by your feelings for him grow and intensify, it was hard to even understand why would you hesitate and yet you did.

Your passionate kiss slowly becomes more tender until you are just sharing small pecks. Suguru pulls back with a little comforting smile; he felt the change in your body language, he knew what was going through your mind. You explained it to him before and he didn’t want to push you. He knew you needed to go at your own pace and he respected that.

“I’m… so-“ you starts apologetically but Suguru stops you with a little kiss “don’t… don’t apologize, I know baby…” he said reassuringly. Sealing his tender words with a kiss. When you separate again he asks “Alright little kitten, tell me… what’s it gonna be? ‘Dorian Grey’ or ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’?” Pulling you in his strong arms he cuddled with you on the couch, returning to the choices for movie you had.

You were so thankful for this man in your life “let’s go with ‘Only Lovers left Alive’”

With a last kiss he started the movie and pulled a blanket over you both.

He could wait, he would wait till the end of time. For you.

———-> Chapter 13/Part 1

Tags:

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

@actualdeemon