#brave new world speculation

[jemgirl86]

Reblogs and tags on my post about the rumor that Bucky is gonna cameo in Brave New World have me curious. If you could have Bucky show up in one scene in Cap 4 (it should only be one scene, at most, because this is Sam’s movie) what would you have him show up to do???

🙋🏾‍♀️ I’ll start:

Okay, so when the opening credits play, it’s over a backdrop of Bucky helping Sam move to Harlem. That’s it. He doesn’t even have to speak. He just has to help Sam relocate to Harlem lol. I’d also be fine with a phone call at the beginning or even a post credit scene where Bucky’s like “So, how’s Harlem treating you?” 😭

[twilightkitkat]

Revised fanfic inspired by this post about how our universe's X-men (assuming they were alive) would react to Logan returning from the dead.

---

The world at large moved on from The Wolverine's resurrection shockingly fast.

Of course, people were excited to see their childhood hero return, but with all that's happened in the past decade in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it's far from the craziest thing to happen. An entire half of the world's population disappeared and reappeared with the flick of a finger—one man coming back to life wasn't the biggest call for concern.

With his initial reemergence, people questioned whether or not he would rejoin his old teammates in the X-men. Now that they were back together, it was only natural for The Wolverine to take his rightful spot.

But, contrary to this speculation, he made no move to rejoin the X-men. In fact, he seemed to avoid contact with them at all. When it became clear that he wasn't returning to the hero scene or the spotlight any time soon, the media attention fizzled out.

Logan was grateful. The last thing he wanted was to constantly be hounded and compared to the hero he couldn't be in his universe. He'd finally come to terms with his past and was content to spend the rest of his life peacefully with Wade (well, as peaceful as it could be when you kill for income).

But while the media let it go, the X-men didn't.

They had been initially shocked and confused when they heard that Logan was back from the dead. They'd brush it off as a false rumor if not for the fact that were eerily realistic photos of him online. He looked so similar and yet so different from the Logan they knew. He was older and had wrinkles where he hadn't before, but he undoubtedly looked like their Logan.

But this opened up a whole new can of worms. Charles had searched using Cerebro and found he was gone for good, and everyone had already mourned him. Was someone impersonating him? Was there a villain? (If so, how dare they?)

The X-men were in a slightly manic state until Colossus returned and explained that this Wolverine was from another universe. The other X-men questioned how he knew, and he reluctantly revealed that Deadpool (the insane mercenary that Colossus was somehow friends with) had brought him to their timeline on a mission to save it from collapse.

...It was a lot to take in. But after getting over the shock of the impossibility, they were relieved. Lord knows it was difficult to manage all the kids and protect the mansion, it would be nice to have him back.

And so they waited for Logan to come to them. To return to the mansion. He had been part of the X-men in his own world from what Colossus had told them, and while he hadn't elaborated too deeply they'd surmised that they were no longer around. It was a perfect fit: the X-men who lost their Wolverine and the Wolverine who lost his X-men.

But he never did. At first, they chalk it up to him going on a solo trip. He liked to run off from time to time—to brave the wilderness or disappear on a personal unspecified mission. When asked, he'd said it helped clear his mind. It made sense. He never really stayed in one place for too long.

After all, it was his personality. He was a Lone Wolf. Logan was the type to get antsy if he felt like he was being tied down. He wasn't the type to like commitment and wanted to be free from the shackles of other people.

The X-men had accepted this as fact, never pushing further. Why would they? If Logan wanted to stay, he would. He was self-assured enough to realize he could come and go whenever he wanted. Nobody was stopping him. (Nobody was telling him that they wanted him there, anyway. No point.)

But then a month passed. And then two. And Logan didn't show any indication that he would be coming back. Or reaching out to them.

And even if he was the type to do his own thing, this was a little ridiculous. He'd just come back to life and didn't even bother showing up to let them know what he was doing?

This Logan couldn't be all that different from theirs if they'd had near-identical origins. Even if he kept up his guard and acted gruffly, he only really had them. They were like a family. They took him in and fed him and clothed him and he showed up to help when shit went sideways in return. A perfect, neat, package with a bow on top.

(Because that's what family is, isn't it? People who provide for your physical needs. People who protect you when you're on the battlefield. What else was there?)

The anticipation was killing them.

And so they staged a confrontation with Colossus one day. They interrogated him about Logan's whereabouts. Prodded him about his well-being and what he was doing. Why he wasn't reaching out and when they should expect him to come back.

His answer shocked them.

Apparently, Logan wasn't out on a mission at all. He wasn't just on a temporary retreat and planning to return.

Instead, he was staying with Deadpool at his apartment and just... living there. Living the same menial, day-to-day life as any other civilian (aside from the contract killing). Apparently, he didn't show any interest at all in returning to his old life or taking up the helm of an X-man again.

(It was hard wrap their heads around. When Jean asked what he spent his days doing, Colossus responded that Logan had gotten into cooking. That he was experimenting with different recipes to see which ones Wade liked and that recently, he'd been learning to make alfredo pasta from scratch.

...Logan? The same Logan whose only hobby was stealing Scott's motorcycle and pissing him off? Who spent his free time smoking and drinking when he wasn't fighting? That same Logan, learning to cook? Living a quiet, domestic life?

That couldn't be right.)

He wasn't even particularly busy, he just hadn't visited. When they inquired further, Colossus smiled slightly and said that he seemed happy there. Content. That Wade was good for Logan and Logan was good for him, too.

It was... nearly impossible to imagine. Logan—fierce, closed-off, restless—just staying in one place? Content to just live with someone, help with chores around the house, and accompany them on mercenary jobs.

Speaking of mercenary jobs, since when did Logan prefer teamwork? He always tried to turn joint missions into solo ones, and went out of his way to brush people off. And yet Colossus told them about how Logan always insisted on accompanying Wade like it was his duty, how their fighting styles were perfectly synchronized, and how he used their teamwork as an example to teach his trainees.

More than that—Logan, a mercenary? He'd rather pick up illegal work for some extra cash than return to being a hero? To being with them? Why did he decide to stay in a shitty one-bedroom apartment with a mercenary instead of returning to their mansion?

What even was his relationship with Wade? They'd only met him once, indirectly, when he came to the mansion to recover after he'd apparently tried to blow himself up. Even through the walls, it was hard to drown out his incessant chatter.

He was erratic and loud and annoying. He was the complete opposite of Logan, but in a completely different way than Scott was. And Logan hated Scott, who acted calm and collected where he was short-tempered and rowdy. They had an infamous rivalry because of the drastic differences in their personality.

So what about Deadpool, who never took anything seriously and was a pain in the ass, made Logan agree to be his roommate? Especially when he had other options. When Logan was notorious for hating people who were "annoying" and picking fights with those whose personalities fundamentally clashed with his.

They only discovered the answer to this question when Laura hosted her 19th birthday party at the X-mansion.

Laura was an interesting case. They'd taken her in after she'd sought refuge in their universe, but she was always reserved. She made friends among the other teenagers and kids at the X-mansion, but often avoided the older X-men.

They were curious about her, considering her connection to Logan, but didn't have an excuse to push further when her control over her mutation was sound. It was also difficult to get close to her when she seemed outright hostile to some of them, particularly Jean and Scott.

When Jean first introduced herself to Laura, Laura glared at her warily. And when Scott had offered a handshake, she'd eyed it suspiciously and turned away. (The apple didn't fall from the tree with this one. It brought up a wave of nostalgia for him.)

But despite this, she was still a part of X-mansion, and so they hosted a party just like they did for the other children. It was just standard practice.

Except for the fact that the Wolverine was coming.

When the X-men had asked who to expect for her party so that they could create a guest list, she'd mentioned offhandedly that both Logan and Wade were going to show up.

It caused them to do a double-take and ask her if she meant Logan as in Logan. She'd raised an eyebrow and asked, "Who else would it be?" as if it were natural that he'd be there.

(When she left, they'd cornered Colossus to bombard him with questions. Was Laura in touch with Logan this entire time, and they didn't know? How did she send him an invitation?

He merely responded that he knew she visited their apartment sometimes, but that it wasn't his business. He saw her every few weeks when Wade had his friends (or "found family" as he called it) over for dinner, but didn't pry further.)

The X-men were hurt. And confused. And angry.

Why was the first time they saw Logan at a birthday party for someone else? Were they not enough reason to visit? They'd taken him and showed him kindness in spite of his... difficult personality. Didn't he at least owe them that much?

He was acting like they were strangers.

They let their questions and emotions fester until the moment of truth finally arrived.

And Logan came, just like Laura said he would. But they barely recognized him, from how differently he looked.

There was something so fundamentally different about the way he held himself. His posture had changed, shoulders drooping instead of perpetually tensed.

He looked... relaxed, for the first time in as long as they could remember. He didn't look hostile or cagey. His expression was open and he stretched with the same lazy, self-satisfied demeanor of a cat.

He looked like a man content with life instead of the one they knew who ran away the first chance he got. He looked like a man who would settle down and start a family instead of the man who always had an itch under his skin to move and never stayed too long.

It was difficult to take their eyes off him. To look away from the glaringly obvious image of how he'd changed. He looked different than he did even in the pictures that had leaked when he'd first come to this world.

(Back then, he'd at least been recognizable. Had some semblance of the Logan they knew. Had the same eyes and clench in his jaw and furrow in his eyebrows.

But now he looked like a man reborn. Like he'd been given a second wind to life, a passion for something other than violence. Had he ever looked like this, back then?)

They wanted to approach him, but it was difficult when he stuck to Wade like glue. They were always touching, somehow. An arm around the shoulders, a hand placed firmly on Wade's waist, fingers intertwined, legs pressed together. Logan was touchy—affectionate, even—in a way he never was with them. (In a way they never thought was possible.)

The way he looked at Wade was like he hung the stars and the moon and the sky itself.

They tried to catch his eye from across the room, but he didn't pay attention. His eyes were firmly locked on Wade's face, a warmth there (a softness) that they'd never seen before. (Was their Logan capable of making such an expression?)

Wade gawked at the mansion and its decoration as he entered, holding Logan's hand. He darted around the party, flitting between Colossus and Negasonic, and Yukio. Then he moved to the buffet table, gleefully grabbing some of the food like a little kid.

And Logan stayed by his side the whole time, only watching him, murmuring something too quiet to decipher in his ear occasionally. Wade responded by jabbing him in the elbow while he tried (and failed) to suppress a cackle.

(And Logan let him. He didn't even retaliate aside from a grunt when Wade punched him in the arm, rolling his eyes and flicking his forehead in return but entirely content to let Wade at him.

The trust there was so obvious it was painful. The familiarity. The warmth. Was this what a family looked like?)

The first time Logan took his eyes off Wade was when Laura came up to greet them. His eyes softened as he looked at her, almost imperceptibly if not for the fact that in their memories, his eyes were always hard. Guarded.

(Jaded in the way that losing your memories and fleeing from a lab only to spend years facing discrimination and hate would do. Jaded in the same way as a dog who feared humans because it'd been hurt by them. Jaded in the same way as an animal who only knew pain and never had a safe place to return to.)

They could count on one hand the number of times they saw even a semblance of the fondness that expression held. And even then, Logan's occasional gruff kindness was reserved for Jean or Rogue.

They watched Laura hug him, grinning as she prattled on about what she'd been doing lately. Logan hugged her back, arms coming to wrap firmly around her. Easy affection. (Easy, but unprecedented.)

She pulled back and Wade hugged her too, spinning her around in the air as she laughed and hit him and asked him to put her down.

When Logan looked at them, the fondness was so obvious it was painful. They were used to seeing Logan show emotion—anger, sadness, fear, arousal. But never softness. (Especially not for a tumor-ridden mercenary and an experiment built off of his DNA.)

The party continues like that, with Logan leaning against Wade and basking in his presence. Hiding in his shadow when he's tired, pressing his forehead against Wade's shoulder.

Until they finally decide to approach them. Scott and Jean held hands as they approached him for the first time, tired of observing him all night. Storm followed closely behind. (Rogue watched from the sidelines, a quiet resignation in her eyes.)

"Logan, nice seeing you man. It's been a while," Scott smiled crookedly at him. He expected Logan to respond how he always did. To grin back, insult him, and start up their typical banter.

Like a well-oiled machine, they kept their rivalry going. Logan and Scott would act like they hated each other in public and fight like children over Jean until she inevitably chose Scott (and then it'd repeat). Sometimes, under the veil of the night, they'd become more. But that was rare, and Scott preferred the comfortable rhythm they normally kept to.

(It was easy. Predictable. Scott didn't have to give anything up for Logan. He could keep his image, keep his life, and still have Logan when he wanted. And then, when he was done, he could keep going as if it never happened. No strings attached.)

But Logan barely looked at him (and was that a look of caution in his eyes?) and nodded, then turned back to Wade as he talked about some kid's show and its "artistic ingenuity."

"Logan, that was a little rude, don't you think?" Jean lightly scolded him. "You got here over a month ago, and we haven't heard from you at all. The least you could do is let us know you're alive."

Scott tightened his arm around Jean. He knew what would come next. Even if Logan was ignoring him, he'd never miss out on a chance to flirt with his girlfriend and rub it in his face.

He knew Jean would always choose him, in the end, but it was annoying to see Logan hit on her. She'd entertain him enough to keep him interested, and occasionally the three would wind up in bed together in a moment of passion. But Jean was his, in the end.

(It was easy. To delegate Logan to the role of a quick fuck. To never really deign him with the courtesy of a lover but still get the benefits. Scott always felt a rush of power when Logan was beneath him. It was like winning a trophy against your rival. Like achieving a conquest—taming the untameable beast.)

Except, Logan didn't react. He just grunted in response. When his eyes met Jean's, they were completely devoid of any emotion. The fire that one burned in his eyes for her was reduced to nothing. Not even a spark or an ember was left. It was like felt nothing for her.

That couldn't be the case, could it? Logan wouldn't move on that quickly. Even if it had been years in his world, he'd always like Jean. He always had before. It was the status quo: Logan always yearned for Jean, who he couldn't have. Jean and Scott were in love, but they occasionally deigned Logan with enough breadcrumbs to keep him on their trail.

And yet Logan didn't even look at her. His eyes were solely on Wade. He didn't flirt with Jean or banter with Scott. It was as if he'd disengaged entirely.

It was only when Wade's eyes flicked toward them and he waved that Logan bothered to acknowledge their existence.

"Oh, hey! You guys are the real deal! The original X-men! The ones that took the 2000s by storm and made Marvel a shit ton of money," Wade grinned at them as he spoke, and the craters on his face stretched and twisted. Jean averted her eyes.

Logan snorted. "Did you not expect to see the X-men in the X-mansion, bub?" It was the first time he verbally acknowledged their existence, but it didn't feel that way. He spoke like they weren't there right in front of him. Like he was only entertaining Wade's train of thought, nothing more or less.

"Considering the budget on my previous movies? Fuck no. It was too expensive to even have a good cameo, let alone actually have them on screen for more than a minute to have a conversation."

Jean and Scott shared bewildered glances. They both wondered what the hell he was talking about. They'd heard rumors of Deadpool being... odd, to put it lightly, but they didn't expect him to act this way in their mansion. He spoke like he was making an inside joke nobody here was privy to, almost as if he was making a reference for an invisible audience. He sounded insane (and definitely not somebody that Logan would willingly live with).

But Logan laughed, genuinely, and it was like the world stopped spinning for a moment. He smiled and his eyes wrinkled, forming crescents.

"No wonder you got a shitty budget. You can barely keep it together as is, let alone in a mansion with children. I doubt you'd fit in with a bunch of kids at a boarding school," he snickered at Wade, but it was light-hearted. It reminded the pair of how he used to act around Scott, before everything.

"My movies are rated R for everyone! And besides, we're not even in the MCU right now. In fanfiction, anything goes. I can talk to the X-men as I damn well please."

Scott coughed awkwardly into his hand.

"Oh, sorry, got a little caught up there. You know how it is. You must be Jean and Scott, nice to meet you," Wade stuck out his hand. Jean hesitated for a moment, suspiciously eyeing the scarred flesh, then reluctantly shook it.

"Deadpool," Scott greeted. His voice was a carefully crafted mask of cool indifference.

Jean smiled tightly. "We've heard a lot about you." It was true. In their search for information about Logan, they found out that he and Logan were partners of some sort. Anyone who had an encounter with The Wolverine naturally also encountered Deadpool. They always did jobs together, and there seemed to be a common understanding among the underground that they were a package deal. It was jarring to hear, to say the least.

"Good things, I'm sure. Who could ever have a complaint about me?" Wade cut into a piece of cake with his shitty plastic fork and took a bite, chewing obnoxiously.

"Johnny Storm would be one," Logan replied.

"You never let go of shit, do you? For the last fucking time, I only told the truth. It isn't my fault he decided to go and shit-talk Cassandra the Almighty. As a concerned citizen, I had an obligation to report treason to the authorities."

"And here I thought you weren't Truthful Timmy, the Blowjob Queen of Saskatoon." Logan leveled Wade with an unimpressed stare, which soon devolved into low laughter as Wade cursed him out.

Jean and Scott stared stiffly at the scene. It was uncomfortable to watch. It felt like someone took Logan, their Logan, and distorted him into a barely recognizable reflection of himself. Their Logan was an asshole with his sense of humor, too. He made sarcastic quips and dark jokes without batting an eye. But he never acted so light around them. He never laughed so freely, like it was as easy as breathing. When he did chuckle, it was low and restrained. Not the uncontrolled, wild, and genuine laughter he had around Wade.

But Jean wouldn't let herself get distracted. Even if Logan was different, he was still like their Logan. He still had a spot reserved for him on the team.

"Logan, can I talk to you for a second?" Jean interrupted. When he made no move to leave, she added, "Alone, please."

Logan's posture shifted, almost imperceptibly. His eyes hardened again, and his mouth pressed into a line. He straightened his spine and leveled her with a steady, calculating look. It was the first time he had really looked at her all night, and yet it made her skin crawl. It was like he was sizing her up, as if she were an enemy or unwanted annoyance.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Anything you need to say to me, you can say with Wade here."

"C'mon man, don't be like that," Scott tried to diffuse the tension, sensing something amiss. "We just want to catch up. Jean worried about you, you know."

It was at that moment Storm arrived. She'd been lurking on the sidelines, waiting for her chance to interject. "Logan, Scott's right. Jean's been worried about you. We all have. It wasn't the same without you here."

Logan's hands slipped into his pockets, but nobody missed the way they clenched into fists. His shoulders rose tensely, and his expression turned guarded. The soft look in his eyes faded into one of wariness.

"Woah woah woah, what is this, middle school? Don't schools teach you all about boundaries these days? Peer pressure isn't cool, say no to drugs," Wade interjected. His smile looked forced, pulled too tightly around the edges. His eyes flitted to Logan, who looked at him with an exhausted type of gratitude.

Jean sighed, centering herself. She needed to stay calm if she wanted to reach out to him. Getting worked up wouldn't help anything. "That's okay, we'll just talk to you here."

Scott scoffed next to her. "What, afraid to speak to us in private?"

Logan stared at him blankly. "No, I just don't want to." He didn't rise to the challenge for once. He looked the bait dead in the eyes and walked past it.

Scott inhaled sharply next to her. Logan never turned down a chance to fight. He'd grin at him, canines showing, and charge in. He got a feral thrill from fighting, from blowing off steam.

He'd told Scott that once, when they were alone together. It was after a sparring session, and they were both sweaty and exhausted, collapsed next to each other. Logan had grinned at him, sweat dripping down his forehead, and told him that fighting was the only time he allowed himself to just let go. His eyes were shining and his hair was damp and his tank top was soaked in his own sweat. He was rugged and handsome and disheveled. Scott had pinned him down and taken him right there.

(In the aftermath, Scott had hurridly zipped up his pants and adjusted his clothing. When he looked halfway presentable, he went to leave. Logan had grabbed onto the leg of his pant, still heaving for air.

"Can't stay for long?" he'd hoarsely asked. His eyes were burning, bright, passionate. His tongue darted out to lick his lips self-consciously. His voice was laced with an undercurrent of urgency. Of desperation. Of hope.

"No, I just don't want to.")

"Logan..." Jean trailed off, unsure of how to start. "I just wanted to ask you how you were doing." An olive branch.

"Fine." His voice was clipped and blunt. No room for argument or extrapolation. He snapped the branch in half.

"Alright, what the hell is your problem?" Storm asked. "We haven't heard from you since you fucking resurrected and now you're acting like a moody teenager when we ask how you're doing?"

"Hey, don't talk to him like that," Wade snapped. It was like a switch had flipped. He went from cheerful and obnoxious to serious the second they insulted Logan.

"No, he needs to fucking hear it. He can brood another time. Logan, we're your friends. You can't just walk away and ignore us anytime you want." Storm crossed her arms, glaring at him like she would a particularly unruly child.

Wade began, "You—"

"Since when were we friends?"

"...What?" Storm looked at Logan incredulously, like she couldn't believe what she just heard. "What did you say?"

"I said, since when were we friends?" His voice was harsher this time, enunciating each word as if it would help them understand.

"Logan, you can't seriously think that, right?" Jean looked at him, concerned.

"So what if I do?"

"Logan," Scott spoke firmly, deciding to rejoin the conversation. "Just because you're upset doesn't mean you can say that. You just hurt Jean's feelings."

Logan snorted. "Yeah, well I'm so sorry Jean's feelings are hurt. What a travesty."

"Alright Logan, what the fuck?" Storm interrupted. "We come here to find out how you've been and all you do is treat us with hostility. All you're going to do is create tension in the mansion for no reason."

"What the hell does the mansion have to do with me?" He glowered at her.

"What do you mean what does it have to do with you? When you come back acting pissy, all of the children will be affected too. They might be used to you and Scott fighting, but you can't pick a fight with everyone here." She glared back.

"...What do you mean, 'come back?'" He spoke to her like she was a child, unable to comprehend a basic lesson. Like she was stupid for even insinuating he'd return.

"When you return to the mansion, she means," Jean added.

Wade raised his nonexistent eyebrows. "Since when was Logan coming back to the mansion? Is Marvel doing a family reunion arc? Although that'd definitely make some money off of nostalgia, it kinda goes against the whole theme of that Logan is different from the old one. Gotta keep them separate to pay homage to his legacy and all that shit."

"What he means is that I never said I was coming back, and in case you need it spelled out for you, I don't plan to." Logan slung an arm around Wade's shoulders and squeezed him protectively.

"...What?" Scott murmured, staring at Logan blankly.

"Logan, you don't really mean that," Jean stated calmly, as if she were placating a wild animal.

"Yes I fucking do," he retorted.

"After all we've done for you, you're going to turn your back on us like this? We took you in and treated you like you were one of us and now you're just going to abandon us because you want to take the easy way out?" Storm pointed a finger at him accusingly.

Logan looked irritated now. He was flexing his knuckles, as if he were prepared to unsheathe his claws at any moment. His eyebrows were furrowed and a deep frown was etched onto his face.

"You don't get to fucking say that," he growled.

"What?"

"You don't get to fucking say that. To talk as if I'm the crazy one for wanting to leave."

"Yeah, well maybe if—"

"No. You don't get to talk. You've had your turn. You all always had your turn first." He glared sweepingly at all of them, teeth grinding together. "Firstly, I don't owe you shit. I'm not even the Logan you took in to begin with."

"But—"

"Secondly, stop fucking talking to me like I'm a toddler. I know what I want, and it isn't to go back to the X-mansion. If I'm so free to come and go as I please, then let me go. Forever."

"Logan—"

"Thirdly, stop acting all high and mighty. Yeah, you fed and clothed me, like any reasonable refuge shelter would. Big fucking deal. I already paid off that debt when I saved this place from getting destroyed countless times."

"You—"

"And finally, stop. Just stop. I just—look. I'm done. I'm done. Nothing you say will change that. So just give up and stop wasting both of our time."

Silence fell across the X-men in front of him. They stared at him blankly, uncomprehending.

Finally, someone broke the silence. "...But Logan, you love me," Jean murmured.

"I did, once. And look where that got me." He glared at her, now, for the first time. It made her distinctly uncomfortable. It made her want to hide.

"Logan, you couldn't possibly mean that," Scott tried to reach him.

Logan's razor-sharp glare turned to him instead. "You were just as bad. You two loved stringing me on. Giving me just enough hope to stay interested. So I'd keep being your little fucktoy. I'm done."

Storm's eyes widened. "Logan, what do you mean by that?"

"Like you all didn't know. Everyone fucking knew that I was passed around like a blunt, it just didn't bother you all. Because it's fine if it's me. 'If Logan suffers, the rest of us can have it a little easier. He can take it, can't he?'" Logan's voice turned shrill and mocking.

"Logan, you know that's not what we—"

"Yes, it was. You meant it. Because if you actually saw me as family, you'd treat me like one. But you had years to and you never did. So don't start now. Not with a replacement Logan that isn't even your own." His eyes hardened, chest heaving. And yet, underneath the tenseness, there was relief. His emotions had been pent up for so long that it felt cathartic to finally release them all in one glorious shitshow of a conversation.

"I won't interfere with your lives, so stop interfering with mine." And then he spun around on his heel and walked away. He left them behind.

They stood there, frozen. They were so shell-shocked that they forgot to breathe, to move, to speak. Until Jean snapped out of it and made an aborted attempt to shout after him, "Logan—"

A hand clamped over her mouth. "Woah there buster, slow your roll." Wade stared at her like she was insignificant. A nuisance. It was almost poetic—the irony of being looked down upon by someone she looked down on herself—if it wasn't so sad.

"Get your hands off her," Scott snarled, yanking her back. She fell against his chest and grabbed his hand for support.

"My bad. I'll keep my paws off your girl if you keep yours off mine," Wade raised his hands in the air nonchalantly.

"...What do you mean, 'your girl?'" Storm warily asked.

"Wolvie, of course. Well, technically a guy, but you get the gist. Besides, he practically fits the vibes with the kitty cat ears."

"...Logan?" Scott questioned.

"Yeah, he's mine. Official title and all. I know you guys had a fling back in the day, but I'm the real deal. I'm the one who wifed him up. So I'd appreciate it if you left him alone so we can keep living out our days in ooey gooey domestic bliss," Wade sighed dreamily at the last part.

"...What?" Jean murmured. She knew Logan sometimes slept around, but with Wade of all people? It would explain why Logan was staying at his apartment, but it still left so many questions unanswered.

(Why wasn't Logan looking at her? Or hell, even Scott? Any of them? Why had his eyes been transfixed to Wade like he was the only person in the world worth watching? If they were dating, then that explains the clingy behavior to some extent, but... was Logan really capable of that? She could remember Logan being aroused, flirty, romantic, even—but never soft. Not like how he looked at Wade.)

"You heard it," he whistled. Like it was just a game to him. (Maybe it was.)

"There's no way Logan would—"

"—Wade!" Logan called. "C'mon, bub, they're going to start opening presents soon. Ours is the first in line!"

"Coming, babygirl!" Wade shouted back. "Well, duty calls," he blew them an exaggerated kiss before skipping off like a schoolgirl.

Wade sidled up to Logan when he got close, hooking arms with him and leaning his head on his shoulder. He batted his eyes at him and Logan reached out to stroke his cheek so tenderly that Jean didn't think they could be anything but lovers.

Her Logan was never like that. Never open, never soft. He cared, in a distant way, but he never stayed. (Was it really that? Was it that he never tried to stay, or that they never gave him reason to? That they never gave him the chance to come inside before shutting the door in his face.)

But here it was. Physical proof that he was capable of looking at someone so softly. Of melting his hard exterior and becoming something more. Someone capable of cherishing the person they loved, of being domesticated.

Because there was really no other way than "domesticated" to describe him. He used to be like a wild animal—all sharp edges, jagged teeth, and razor-sharp claws. He snarled and growled at anyone who got too close and cornered him. He'd drop by for food, but snatch it and run off.

(But that's the thing about wild animals, isn't it? To get them to calm down, to stop seeing you as a threat, you need to be patient. To reach out. To prove you're safe. Did they ever really try?)

And now he even looked different. His hard muscles had filled out with a layer of fat. He looked healthy, like he wasn't just a tool built to fight and gnaw on the scraps he was given. He looked like a person who came back from work and ate a warm, balanced dinner at night. Who got adequate sleep had all of his needs taken care of. Who had a home.

Jean thought that Logan's personality was rough, sharp, and jagged. That he was just Like That and it was useless to try to change it. It was written into his character—Jean was the good girl and Scott was the good guy and Logan was always cast as the bad boy. Like a set of actors forced to play the same roles each time.

(After all, the bad boy is just someone you flirt with. Not someone you take home. Jean had said that, hadn't she?

And Logan had told her he could be the "good guy." Tried to show that he was capable of being more than just how he acted when he was hurt and alone. But she brushed it off. They all did.

And yet here Logan was. Soft and entranced by Wade in a way he never had been, even with her. Looking at him with something so much deeper than lust or attraction or infatuation. Looking at him with devotion. Reverence. Complete and utter love.)

But Logan wasn't Like That. He had always wanted to be soft. To be able to curl up next to somebody and trace the curve of their spine with his fingertips. He'd always yearned for a home he could feel genuinely warm in, where he'd be accepted and allowed to be vulnerable. Where he could laugh and cry and express emotions even if they weren't pretty. Even if they contradicted his "image."

He'd only been hard because he had to. Because if he wasn't, the biting words and indifference of everyone around him would cut so deep he'd never recover. Because if he let himself love and be vulnerable with the X-men and they still viewed him as a passerby, as a tool, as an outsider, as just someone to sleep with—he'd break.

But Wade gave him a home. Gave him the chance to finally love and be loved and not feel afraid. To open up. To show his emotions without fear of being scorned. To know he'd always be taken seriously. To not just be seen as the bad boy, but as a broken man desperate for anyone to show him even a crumb of affection. A reason to stay.

He was finally seen as more than just a stereotype. He was allowed to just be Logan. Gruff, angry, and animalistic. Soft, kind, and emotional. He was allowed to be both.

(Everyone always made him choose. Kind or gruff. Good or bad. Animal or human. Logan had to fit what they were looking for, hiding away the unwanted parts of him. He was either a ruthless tool or the perfect man. He could never just be himself. Not if he wanted people to stick around.)

Logan was used to being hidden. He was always the shameful secret. Jean was embarrassed to like him. Scott hid him away during the night and fought him during the day. He was a temptation, but that was it. They'd always choose each other first. Every member of the X-men had their person, but he was nobody's.

But with Wade, for the first time in his life, he was the first choice. He was the priority. He got to eat at the table instead of being fed scraps thrown onto the floor.

Logan thought it was natural to be treated as lesser. To be an afterthought. But when Wade cradled his face like he was something precious and was willing to die for him, he realized that he could be loved just as fiercely as he loved Wade. As an equal. As partners.

And so when he saw the X-men, he reacted the same way they had all those years ago: with indifference. With the same detached care he'd grown so used to. He spared them the effort of a few words, of reluctant acknowledgment, but that was it. If they never wanted to look closer at him or care about his needs, it was fine. But he'd do the same.

"Do you think Laura will like the gift we chose?" Wade hummed.

"I'm sure she'll love it," Logan murmured in response, leaning in closer to kiss his forehead.

After all, there was no need to scramble to collect crumbs when he was well-fed. There was no need to look for a shitty room in an empty-feeling mansion when he already had a home.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Bachelors reacting to a farmer who is a famous author with plenty of books under their belt?

Sure thing :D Thanks for your ask, dear anon!

_________________________________________

Elliott:

Elliott had recognised Farmer as soon as they first met near Willi's shop. And how could he not - a famous writer in the horror genre, whose lines skilfully present anxiety and intrigue to the reader, had come here to Stardew Valley! On top of that, it was Farmer who was the one who inspired the ginger writer not to give up on his writing path despite the comments of others. Naturally, the two will find quick common ground, exchange ideas and advice about their work (if Farmer continues to write novels in addition to their new job), or just relax over a mug of strong ale. Elliott is delighted to meet them and hopes that the Valley will become a home and a place of inspiration for Farmer, just as it has become a home for Elliott.

Sebastian:

At first, Sebastian couldn't believe his own ears when he heard Farmer's first and last name during their meeting, but then, upon asking Farmer again a little later, they confirm the local emo's speculation. The new farmer who has taken over their grandpa's old house is the author of all five volumes of Cave Saga, his favourite books! Sebby loves science fiction and sci-fi, and Farmer's works in this genre are bestsellers in the Republic and a gem in Sebastian's personal collection of his books and comics. He will be a little awkward at first to approach them due to his shyness and reluctance to show himself like an obsessive fan or something. But Farmer turned out to be a very chill and nice person, with whom Sebastian became friends pretty quickly.

Shane:

After Shane had replied to Farmer upon introduction in a not too polite manner, he wondered if somewhere he had heard their surname/name before. Not the chatter of townsfolk who were intrigued by the new resident of the Valley, much earlier. The realisation came when he started reading Jas her favourite bedtime story (which Shane also secretly loved) in the evening. "The Brave Little Sapling. Author-" !!! No way... Could it be a coincidence? But overheard conversations of others confirm that Farmer is the same author. Sigh... Though it's a children's book, it raised some pretty adult issues, and helped Shane to not give up and to appreciate what we have. He doesn't know how to address Farmer now, after a not very great first meeting, but he thinks it's worth apologising at least.

Alex:

Perhaps Alex would have reacted to the news that Farmer was a famous writer more surprised or enthusiastic. The thing is - and he's ashamed to admit it - he hasn't read very many books in his entire life. Athlete, however, wants to catch up, and has been blowing the dust off some of the books on his shelf since last week. Most of them were as boring as integrals, to be honest, but 'Jack Be Nimble, Jack Be Thick' has become his favourite. Easy to understand, lots of pictures, some puns, and very cool tips for him - no wonder it's the most popular according to reviews. "This is my first volume, I already wrote a second one." Wait... Farmer is the author of this book? Hey, there's so much great advice in there! That's awesome! Now Alex is super excited.

Sam:

Not to say that Sammy is a big fan of books, he's more of a comic book fan, but there are a couple of exceptions. One great fantasy book, based on which people created some great video games and produced a lot of comics - naturally the young guitarist, who loved the franchise, wanted to know the source material, and the book was even more interesting. When he mentioned it to Farmer, the Valley's newest resident, about it, they told him they were the author of the book. Which made Sammy's jaw drop with shock. He couldn't contain his delight and would ask questions about the fictional world, but wouldn't disturb their peace if they didn't want to. Whether they continue write or not, Sam will thank them for a great book and a cool fictional world Farmer created.

Harvey:

Hmm, funny coincidence..... The surname of the new resident of the Valley and Harvey's patient is exactly the same as the surname of the author of one of the most popular love novels, "The Apple Orchard." Yes, the doctor is a fan of this book series, he's not just into medical reference books and encyclopaedias about aeroplanes, you know. True, now he's heard that the author wanted to retire... "Well, not exactly, I wanted to take up farming and make writing a hobby again, not a full-time job." Not a coincidence, then... Harvey is pleasantly surprised that his new friend is his favourite writer, also a decent man and a calm patient during check-ups. The relationship won't change much, the doctor doesn't want to inundate Farmer with a bunch of questions about book universe. Maybe later, if they want to talk about their novels over a cup of coffee.

[coralinnii]

‧₊˚✧ Everything Stays, Right Where You Left It ‧₊˚✧

↳ meeting once again after you returned home

feat: Azul ❋ Jamil ❋ Sebek ❋ Jade genre: hurt/comfort, romance note: no pronouns used with the reader, speculations of how Yuu/reader returns home are all theoretical (no canon timeline is confirmed at this time), established relationships, happy ending, a nickname for reader was used in Jamil ver.,

I didn’t add a quote or “voice line” like my typical headcanons/scenarios posts because it felt unnatural to this vibe.

Song suggestion: Everything Stays by Olivia Olson (Adventure Time)

You broke your own heart saying goodbye to him. Whether he begged you to stay or reluctantly let you go, the overwhelming pain burned deep in his soul when he saw your figure disappear into the mirror, to where he couldn't reach you anymore.

Time waits for no man and he has to keep going, without you by his side.

But then, just as mysteriously as before, you appeared once more before him, beautiful as the day you left.

“I missed you…”

Such an unfortunate soul, he first thought. A fish out of water, so far away from anything or anyone you knew, Azul hoped you would find comfort in him, for a price of course.

But you surprised him with your unyielding character, quick adaptability and eagerness to keep Azul on his toes. You were a tricky customer who threw him for a loop, and he became ever grateful you did. Friendly competition and cheeky comments became shy smiles and soon longing embraces.

But your efforts to find clues to your mysterious arrival to Twisted Wonderland bore fruit, and you were able to find a way to open a portal to return home. But you weren’t sure what was going to happen once you crossed that portal. You may have to say goodbye…forever.

This was a deal he just couldn’t make, the cards were against him. Azul would have bargained with every morsel under his name just to keep you in Twisted Wonderland, with him.

But there was a chance for you to finally return home, back to where you had a whole life before being whisked into this magical world. You had no regrets coming to this world, meeting Azul, and eventually loving him, but you couldn’t abandon your old life, without even an explanation.

Azul understood that, he truly did. So he used the last moments he still had with you to give you an experience you could never forget, so you could never forget him. At least Azul could let you go without regrets.

But still, on the night of your departure, muffled cries could be heard through the walls of the merman’s bedroom. He thought he could put on a brave face for you as you made your way to the mirror, but he still had tears left to shed as your figure finally disappeared from his sight, out of his reach.

It took so long for him to change his routine since you left. He had to squash that yearning part of himself that kept hoping you would suddenly walk through the doors of Mostro Lounge and give him that warm smile that melts his stress away.

Sometimes he wakes up, reaching out to your warmth on his bed only to see the vacant space in his too-large bed. For a creature from the icy waters, he felt so unbearingly cold since your departure.

The fateful reunion

He was almost over you, ready to move on with his life after 2 years since your farewell. He was off to complete his independent study for his final year when he heard news of the Dark Mirror lighting up one random day and a mysterious figure fell out from its glass.

When he returned to the campus, Azul had to weave your old friends and other curious students around you in your old Ramshackle dorm, but when your eyes met his, his eyes lit up as though it finally came to life once more. You looked a little older and all the more beautiful, Azul almost fell to his knees in disbelief.

Nervously, you walked towards your former lover with a glint of fear in your eyes. 2 years may not mean much in the long run but it was still plenty for the merman to forget you, a piece of his life perhaps best left behind. But still, lost in his blue eyes, as deep as the ocean he hails from, you whispered the thoughts you had the moment you stepped back into your world.

“I missed you, Azul.”

Swift as a wave, strong arms wrapped around you as you pulled into an ever-familiar embrace. Soft curls tickled your face as the bespectacled man pressed his face into your shoulder. Despite being hidden away from watching eyes, you could hear his sniffles as he cried in the comfort of your arms.

But you soon joined him as the rush of emotions rushed within you, your control crumbling apart when you heard the soft plea Azul whispered into your skin, words he kept locked away all these years.

“Please…don’t leave me.”

You were like him in a way. Trapped in a situation you didn’t decide yourself, forced to adapt and live with the cards given to you. To put aside your feelings of helplessness and laugh, like a smiling genie stuck confined to a tiny lamp.

What was first pity became a bond from a kinship to an affectionate fondness for one another. The two of you even joked about traveling the world some day, just to give each other that chance to feel free together.

But by chance Crowley found a way for you to return home, a choice to free yourself from your bizarre predicament. Suddenly, Jamil felt even lonelier than he has ever thought possible.

Then, Jamil couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Of course, anything that he desired could never be his. What was he thinking? He should have known something as amazing as you was too good to be true.

An expert liar, he congratulated you on such a fortuitous event. He wore his well-crafted smile as he told you how glad he was for you to return home, to gain the freedom the two of you dreamed of.

A man trained as a servant, Jamil knew how to push down his selfish thoughts, even when you knew that he wasn’t being truthful with his words.

Great Sevens, he loved you for knowing him so well. He loved you so much that he convinced you to go home, as no one knew if such an opportunity would ever come again. This time, he was truly happy to ignore his selfish desires, if it’s for you.

But even Kalim, for as oblivious as he can be sometimes, knew to leave Jamil alone in his room that day when he shared one last kiss with you before you disappeared behind the magical mirror.

The fateful reunion

It’s been 2 years since Jamil and Kalim graduated from Night Raven College, 5 years since either of them saw you since your departure, since he last felt whole.

The first few years, Kalim tried to cheer his childhood friend, offering words of comfort and even hoped that perhaps you would return someday. You magically came here before, who’s to say it won’t happen again?

The well-meaning Asim heir only stopped mentioning you when Jamil lost his composure one night, screaming at him to stop making him hope for something so impossible. To Jamil, what hurts him more than you leaving him was losing hope that you could come back someday.

Since that day, Kalim did his best not to mention your name near the long-haired man in fear of opening old wounds.

Which is why Jamil was confused when the snow-haired heir called him during his overseas trip, urging him to return to Silk City immediately.

“Jamil, you gotta come back! It happened!”

Jamil’s heart beat hard against his chest, the long buried hope he tried to crush came back, fueling his body to run towards the fastest route back to his hometown. His pessimistic logic demanded him to lower his expectations but that childish longing in him begged him to run faster.

There, inside the Asim family’s large room, you stood there in the middle of the room surrounded by lavish walls and decor. The room was filled with luxurious ornaments and bright colors, but Jamil could only see you and your beautiful face with eyes as mesmerizing as he remembered in his dreams.

“Jamil…I-“

Before you could fully speak, the usually collected man ran to you without restraint as he encased you in his arms, as though he feared this to be a cruel mirage. His selfishness bled through as he held you closer than he ever had with anyone, his racing heart could be felt between you two.

“I missed you, habibti.”

Being with Sebek was like an adventure. A man with such vigor and determination towards life gave you the motivation to go through this strange new world the same way. You didn’t know if you could never return home but what good was it to give up on being happy?

What started off as admiration turned to fondness, then after an awkward period of confusing feelings, the two of you started a meaningful relationship. Sebek was insistent on formally courting you with the intentions of marrying you, but you told him you’d marry him with a paper ring. Sebek expressed feelings of indignation but the flush of his ears said otherwise.

But hidden in old fae books locked away in the royal libraries, Lilia found stories of people who came to this world seemingly the same way as you…with a way to send you back. It would have been impossible to gather enough magical energy to return you to your original world, but Malleus was the only one capable of accomplishing this feat. For his dear friend and his trusted guard’s beloved, he would gladly do this grand favor.

How…fortunate you are.

Sebek was stunned silent over this revelation. He should be happy, shouldn’t he? Despite your smiles and laughs, he knew the days where you would look out in a daze, lost in your feelings of homesickness. He told himself that he would give you everything if he could, no matter the pain it may occur to him…

Malleus gave the two of you time to discuss amongst yourselves and you could see your green-haired lover mentally fighting with himself. That was fair, you too were emotionally split over this information.

With a heavy heart, Sebek chose to let you go. He feared that if he were to speak his desires, someday you would grow to resent him for holding onto you. You told him otherwise but all of your arguments lead to the same conclusion, you needed to return home.

With tear-filled eyes, Sebek watched as you were engulfed with his liege’s magic, a blinding glow wrapping around you like a chrysalis. Though he denies it, he was grateful for Silver’s comforting hand on his shoulder as he broke down to his knees, a burning pain in his chest and the stinging of his tears cascading down his face.

The fateful reunion

The years were good to him, after 10 years he became what he always dreamed to be, a recognized guard of the royal family, under his magnanimous king.

With the advice of Lilia, the grown half-fae decided to keep a journal with records of his accomplishments and struggles, everything he wished he could tell you. Perhaps in hopes that he could one day share his life with you, or perhaps simply a way to keep his spirits up since your departure.

Sebek is not usually the one to dwell too much in the past, rather the type to look towards the future. But on occasion, he catches himself lost in his thoughts over his moments with you whenever he comes across something that reminds him of you, which were a lot of things.

He tried to kick this habit, as it was troubling for a guard to get so easily distracted, especially if he was meant to guard his king with his life. Eventhough Malleus, Lilia, and Silver were understanding over his situation, Sebek chastised his unprofessional behavior.

Even now, he was angry with himself when he sees a mysterious figure walking towards him at the castle’s gate under this heavy downpour. For a moment, he froze over how familiar this figure was, who walked uncannily similarly to the way you did, long ago.

Shaking this thought away, Sebek demanded this suspicious figure to stop before stepping any closer to the castle’s gate.

“Reveal yourself! Lest you prepare to meet my spear!”

“Sebek?”

Your voice struck him like lightning, stunned him in his post as flashes of the past rushed through him. You cautiously stepped closer, Sebek finally able to see your face under the castle’s lights. Like him, you grew considerably since he last saw you, but still as enchanting as that fateful day, even when you were drenched in the pouring weather.

With a whisper of your name, Sebek unceremoniously tossed his weapon to the muddy ground as he forsaken his position to run to you. Closing you in his arms, he could smell that comforting scent of you even in the drenching rain. Your warm body soothed his own as he shared a deep kiss with you under the rain, a decade of his longing finally rushing out in this unbelievable miracle that was you.

“I missed you, for so long.”

Jade was certainly curious about you. You reminded him of an old famous tale in his hometown, of a young mermaid who found herself in a world that was nothing like her own. He found amusement in you as you gasped and floundered over the myriad of magical possibilities that were a mere commodity in Twisted Wonderland. How adorable you were, he thought.

Fascination replaced curiosity and soon infatuation came into play. Eventually, Jade has come to enjoy your company more than anyone else’s, and he had to maintain a steady smile when you confessed your mutual feelings for him.

But when the Dark Mirror announced that a portal to your world has opened once more, he found difficulty in keeping his practiced smile. His otherworldly lover has a chance to return home, leaving him behind.

The eel merman was grateful for your attempts to comfort him, telling him that you could refuse this offer. You entertained the thought that perhaps the portal will appear once more at a later date, to diminish the significance of this opportune chance.

But Jade is no fool, he never was. No matter how happy you were with him, he recognises the wistful looks when a reminder of your old world is brought up. While he revels in the stories you joyfully regaled him of your past, he can hear the soft sighs under your breath and the melancholic smile upon your lips.

What was that phrase land-dwellers are so fond of? “If you love something, set it free.”

Jade never knew he could love someone as much he did with you, he didn't think he would ever do this for anyone. How amazing you are, it seems.

Jade loved you enough to let you go. He loved you enough to hold you as you cried through your broken goodbyes. He loved you just enough to finally let go of your hand as your figure disappeared into the magical glass.

And Floyd and Azul loved him enough to delegate his vice housewarden duties as he holed himself in his terraturim collection for days after your departure.

The fateful reunion

1 year has passed and while there have been some changes, there are things that stayed the same. Though now third years, Jade maintained his position as Octavinelle’s vice housewarden, by Azul’s side.

As such, his presence was appreciated in the Hall of Mirrors as new students filled the room, anxiously waiting for their dorm sorting. While this was a grand occasion for many young mages, Jade doubts that anything can outdo the unorthodox events that happened a year ago, when you appeared.

He couldn’t help but chuckled to himself when he recalled the ruckus you and Grim made, the reckless beast yelling out such amusing things.

“MY HENCHHUMAN IS BACK!”

Oh my, speak of the devil.

Grim, much stronger than he was before, burst through the heavy doors as he ran about with fat tears soaking the fur on his face. The notorious Heartslabyul duo tried to grab hold of the rambunctious creature but nothing could quell the ball of fur.

Hasty footsteps were heard as a figure came rushing in soon after, seemingly chasing the bawling Grim. Upon your appearance, the row of gasps and shouts echoed through the room, specifically from the older students and the faculty.

Jade felt a rush of emotion crashing into him. As a desperate measure, he tried to forget your face lest he wished to stay haunted by your image through restless nights. But there you stood looking as beautiful as the day he lost you.

Cautiously, he walked towards you like a wary eel. If this was a cruel trick, he will not be merciful towards anyone who believes they can play with a Leech’s heart.

But when your gaze matched his, he felt the world start once more, as though it fell to a stop the moment you disappeared. Your expressive eyes were the same beautiful sight he fell in love with, even when lined with building tears.

“Jade,” you whispered in disbelief. “I missed you so much”

With quick movement, Jade pulled you into him as he engulfed himself in the joy he’s feeling. Your touch, your voice, your scent, it’s all back.

What was that phrase land-dwellers are so fond of? “If it returns, it was meant to be.”

[punished-affection]

☾ — yandere nightmare x reader !

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　. .　　　　☾　　　　　　　　　. 　　✦⠀　,　 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　 　　⠀　　　⠀.　 　　˚　　　⠀　⠀  　　,　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　*⠀　　⠀  ✮　　　　　⠀✦⠀　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdivider credit: h-aewo.

notes: this guy is actually based off the guy i keep seeing in my dreams so!! why not turn him into a yandere lol. i plan on making a polar opposite to this guy too thts all soft nd like. a dream, essentially.

warnings: gn reader, yandere content, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, fairly detailed nightmares, depictions of death but none of it's real, manipulation, this technically falls into the dark yandere category, forced dependency, intentional sleep deprivation, obsession.

♡ — yandere nightmare who, in the beginning, saw you as nothing more than a mortal for him to mess around with. orion has always viewed himself as better than mortals, considering himself a god, so you were meant to be nothing more than a toy for him. one he'd play with until he got bored and moved on.

♡ — all of your dreams, once nice and pleasant, were now horrific nightmares. if you dreamt of nice childhood memories, it was replaced by the images of your family's faces melting off their skin, revealing demonic monsters hidden beneath.

♡ — orion liked the reactions he got out of you. the way you'd pretend to be brave sometimes, or the way you'd breakdown other times. learning your deepest, darkest fears with each new nightmare, making you suffer in the most horrific ways you could ever possibly imagine.

♡ — it was all entertainment to him. that's all it should've been, at least. but then you started forcing yourself to stay awake, depriving him of your reactions. you're not the first mortal to do this, and though frustrating, he had initially moved on, opting to torment another person.

♡ — but their reactions just... weren't the same. they didn't cry like you did. they didn't put on a brave face. they didn't act like you, and it angered him, and he didn't understand why. sure, orion's enjoyed tormenting certain people more than others, but it's like you just refuse to leave his mind.

♡ — so when you started falling asleep again, orion was quick to return to your side. he had the ability to appear however he wanted, and he'd normally depict himself as a monster. long gangly limbs, bones sticking out of him every which way, gnarly teeth, glowing eyes, the like. but he found himself taking on a human appearance, just for you.

♡ — it wasn't any less unnerving, though. he looked uncanny. if you stared too long, you would start to notice the flaws. eyes too red, skin too smooth. a smile too wide, teeth just a bit too sharp. he didn't speak to you at first, just appearing in the background of your nightmares, watching.

♡ — and speaking of your nightmares... they weren't as... bad as they once were. the stench of rot and burning flesh no longer greeted you every time you fell asleep. instead, you always found yourself in isolated or abandoned places. the monsters that used to torture you no longer appeared. the only other person around, if that's what you could even call him, was the man with deathly pale skin and inky black hair.

♡ — somehow, you found this to be far scarier than any other nightmares. it's just you, and him. and you didn't know him. and he was always watching, observing. and you swear that one time you woke up in the middle of the night to find him standing in the corner of your room. you swear it.

♡ — the paranoia started to follow you into the waking world, much to orion's delight. he couldn't interact with you while you were awake, as much as that upset him, but it made his nonexistent heart throb knowing that you thought about him enough that it had you looking over your shoulder even while you were awake.

♡ — friends and family show concern for your increasing paranoia and lack of sleep, some even speculating that you might be suffering night terrors and to seek some help to try and get some medication to manage it. but deep down, you knew that this wasn't something that would go away with some pills.

♡ — you do try what you can. at first, you forced yourself to stay awake. you were able to go almost a full week without sleeping before your body forcibly shut down. that was when orion started observing you rather than tormenting you.

♡ — then you tried watching meditation videos, asmr, things that were meant to help you sleep. you thought that, maybe, you were just incredibly stressed and that stress is what was triggering these nightmares. but no, none of that helped. that's when you started to suspect something more... supernatural might have been at play.

♡ — online forums were no help, unfortunately. you were able to get a few laughs out from a couple jokes about the hat man, but none of that helped you. so alas, all you could do what... get used to the nightmares, you supposed. it should be... easy, right?

♡ — well. orion thought it was adorable how you were trying to find ways to get rid of him. but as cute as it was, he was growing impatient waiting for you to sleep. it's become a habit of yours, apparently, to put off sleeping as long as you could, and that simply just wasn't fair. it only serves to piss him off more the longer he finds himself attached to you.

♡ — he's no longer satisfied with just watching you. when you fall asleep next, you'll find yourself in an endless void, arms tightly wrapped around you. long black hair draping over your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, breathing you in. he didn't understand why he felt this way about you, but he knew that he never wanted to let you go.

♡ — but when you do things to piss him off, he'll always make sure to give you horrific nightmares. you wanna spend time with your friends in the waking world more than him? suddenly, you're having a nightmare where you're forced to watch your friends die in slow, excruciating ways. you find yourself developing feelings for someone? he may not be able to kill them in real life yet, but he'll make sure to personally torture a dream version of them until you're begging him to stop, promising to never speak to them again.

♡ — and he'll always shower you in affection after he scares you. his skin was far too cold against your own, but you'll learn to lean into his touch as he wipes your tears away, cooing, telling you that he's just doing what's best for you. he'll do this again and again until it's finally beat into your head that you don't need anyone other than him.

[skywerse]

AVA FERIN MIGHT STILL BE ALIVE

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS IN GENERAL

HEAR ME OUT, READ BELOW THE CUT AND TELL ME IF IT'S SOMETHING OR IF I'M SIMPLY LOOSING MY SHIT OVER NOTHING... BECAUSE IT MAKES SENSE TO ME—

Fey Ferin wants R.A.F.T to seize control over the world, and there's nothing that can stand in her way, not even her own family.

There might have been a time when Jayson Ferin was a good man. Based on what May says about him and glimpses we get from Jay's early memories (I recall one with the pin), it appears he once was. Perhaps Jayson desired change for the navy too, but that would be such a pain for Fey to deal with. So, she seems to have brainwashed him for months, possibly years by now (ep 79, Gilly detects corruption in him mixed with good energy), molding him into the perfect soldier who doesn't question orders and neglects his family for the sake of helping his mother to carry out this great fucking world domination plan.

Fey likely harbors resentment towards Drey for not being obedient like his brother, opting for a pirate's life over being loyal to his family and their ideals. Yet, Fey can't bring herself to kill him, so she puts him in a top security prison to let him rot instead.

Ava was the ideal soldier—strong, brave, and revered by all. However, for Fey, Ava's kindness, compassion, and desire for change is simply another pain to deal with. But of course, she would not kill her own family. And she couldn't let her just vanish either.

Perhaps Fey suspected that Ava had a soft spot for pirates, given her upbringing in Eagle's Den and being raised by such a softhearted daughter-in-law. But perhaps, on one occasion, someone witnessed Ava together with a pirate, and somehow that information reached Fey. And after learning that her granddaughter, her esteemed captain, had feelings for a pirate from the crew of the last remaining pirate lord she aimed to get rid of, Fey simply couldn't let this opportunity slip by.

Maybe Ava cooperated willingly, fought like hell, or simply was faced with a deal she couldn't refuse. R.A.F.T. wouldn't just eliminate their top captain, such a vital asset for the upcoming war. Instead, they created a doppelgänger, and chucked the real Ava into some top-notch secret confinement. Letting the dopple to become their pawn. A perfect martyred hero to be killed by those bad bad pirates. A perfect excuse to wage a war over.

But the doppelgängers aren't perfect. So when Lizzie tells Ava about a pirate who is like a father to her, Ava doesn't remember. And when Lizzie begs her not to fight, Ava doesn't listen because she doesn't remember the numerous times they sneaked out together to simply talk like normal people do. And when there's an order to shoot, Ava doesn't move away, as she remembers she was only created to destroy and to be destroyed.

Would Jayson know? Probably not. His hatered toward the pirates responsible for his daughter's death would likely fuel his brainwashed self even more. Very convenient for the long run.

Fey might permit her youngest granddaughter to infiltrate the pirates, banking on her own hatered over her sister's death to maybe one day make her an even better soldier than Ava ever was.

But maybe Fey was wrong.

And she knows it when she receives news of her son's escape from prison, and when her other son suddenly takes leave, or perhaps when a navy base on the Black Sea is breached.

So, when her promising soldier begins to rebel, it might be time to reveal the secret that she's been keping. Maybe it will help her granddaughter decide which side to choose in the end.

me rn:

But idk, that's just my speculation. If it turns out to be a load of bullshit you can point and laugh, but at this point it makes so much sense in that smooth brain of mine as I'm writing this at 7am after getting no sleep whatsoever.

ALSO, just something fun to think over:

In the rolled for 114, Grizz mentioned that the doppel/brainwashing machine had buttons with dates on them. And if pressed, it would display the people who had previously used it. I can't help but wonder if my theory about Ava is true if she might have showed up there. Or maybe it could have shown Jayson getting his fucking brain blasted. BUT WELP, someone rolled like shit (pointsatgillionpointsatgillion) and we'll never know now—

[anymoon19]

how they met

I brought you a story that I made a while ago and I really wanted to share, I hope you like it and my requests are open

⸻⸻⸻꧁❤❤❤❤꧂⸺⸺⸺⸺

I saw that Vi always felt something for you, even if she couldn't name what it was. Whether it was wanting to get your attention, finding excuses to touch you, or even hugging you for no reason.

But when she saw two women together, romantically speaking, she realized it was the same way you treated each other. The affection, the attention, and the looks. That's when Vi realized she was hopelessly in love with you.

Vi wasn't usually affectionate, only with Vander or Powder, and that was just because they were family.

You met when she was 15 years old, and since then, you never parted ways. You always found her beautiful, that rough and authoritative demeanor always attracted you, and over time, Vi began to notice it too.

That's when the flirting started, initially simple compliments, hands on shoulders or hips. But it evolved, what used to be a simple hand on the hip turned into a constant hand on your waist or the back pocket of your pants, the innocent compliments turned into increasingly bold and direct pick-up lines, the light hugs turned into long minutes of her holding you in her arms or keeping you close.

At first, it intimidated you because, even though you liked her, Vi was still intimidating and brave, and you weren't used to that kind of attention.

Even though Vi was sure of her own feelings, she wasn't sure about yours, heck, she didn't even know if you liked women. She decided to observe you, spend more time with you, even if sometimes Powder got in the way a bit.

A few weeks before that night, Vi had confessed her feelings to you, she couldn't stand not having you to herself anymore and decided to take a chance.

It was perfect, your relationship had never been better, the kisses you shared, the hugs you gave, and the love you felt were out of this world. Vi had never felt anything so intense in her life, and being with you like that seemed like a dream she never wanted to wake up from.

When everything went wrong, all your friends died, and Vi had disappeared, your world fell apart. You had begged her so much to forget that, and now you had lost her, your heart was shattered, and seeing what Powder was becoming only made the situation worse. In one of the attempts to make Powder, now Jinx, return to normal, you almost ended up dead from a fit of your former friend. Taking shelter with Ekko in his base, you decided to focus on caring for the wounded and warriors instead of going on missions.

Eight years had passed, and even while distracting yourself, you still found yourself thinking about Vi. What you felt for her you would never feel for anyone else, and the thought that you never would again bothered you. You often speculated where she could be. Unlike the others, her body was never found. The thought that she might have escaped and left you bothered your subconscious, but you quickly corrected yourself. Vi would never abandon you, never abandon Powder. But as each day, week, month, and year passed, that thought solidified in your mind, making you wish she had died in the accident rather than thinking she had left you.

However, when you saw her, standing right in front of you next to a Piltover officer, your world stopped. She was taller than you remembered and more muscular too. Aside from the new tattoos and haircut, she was the same Vi you remembered. Your body started trembling when she turned to you and froze in place, those beautiful blue eyes looking at you with guilt and longing, making the hurt in your chest grow.

You slowly approached, afraid she might disappear with a simple breath. Vi stood there, immobilized, waiting for some action or move from you. As you got close enough, you slapped her face, making her head turn to the side, and her cheek turned red.

"Why did you do this? Why did you abandon us?" Tears were falling from your eyes as you spoke those words, cutting your throat like glass and burning your insides with anger and resentment.

"I didn't abandon you," she whispered, finally looking into your eyes, letting her own tears form.

This reaction was far from what Vi expected from you, not due to your gentle and loving nature, of course. She didn't expect everything to go back to how it was before, but still, she thought at least you would welcome her with the love you once had.

"Lies!" you shouted with tears streaming down your face, "You left, you left me..." covering your face, "Why did you do this?"

Your words broke Vi's heart. Seeing you like this was like a stab in the chest. "I didn't want to leave, but I couldn't stop it..." she allowed herself to cry, making everyone around look shocked. "They caught me, S/n, they threw me in prison for the theft we committed before all this happened." Vi approached, lifting your face to her. "Not a single day went by without me dreaming of coming back home, back to you, thinking that when I finally had you, everything was taken from me."

The anger dissipated, giving way to a painful longing. You collapsed into Vi's arms, crying loudly against her chest, feeling her arms tighten around you. All the pain, longing, and nostalgia were in that hug. Your sobs were muffled by Vi's jacket as she hid her face in your hair, the tears streaming silently down her face as she tightened her embrace to the point of pain.

"I'm so sorry," Vi whispered repeatedly in your ear, sobbing quietly while holding you in her arms.

You stayed like that for a while, not knowing if it was hours or minutes, just wanting to stay in each other's arms and try to make up for the time that was taken from you.

When you separated, Caitlyn approached to check if you were okay. She introduced herself and explained her relationship with Vi and was happy to meet you.

It was difficult, but you both managed to establish yourselves. After all, your love had never faded, and the time you spent apart only intensified that feeling. It wasn't perfect, because nothing is perfect, but you loved each other and were willing to make the relationship work.

[lobotomisa]

Corrosion [ l. yagami x gn. lawliet reader ]

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ PAIRING: [Yandere] Light Yagami / L's sibling Reader (Maybe oneshot)

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ SYNOPSIS: When L’s sibling joins the Kira investigation, Light Yagami is captivated by their ruthlessness and unpredictability. Seeing a perfect counterpart in them, he becomes consumed with desire to possess and manipulate them into his vision for a new world—no matter the cost or consequence.

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ RATING: SFW

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ NOTES: First writing post on this site! Enjoy!

The room is dimly lit, the shadows stretching long across the walls like dark secrets waiting to be unveiled. The atmosphere is thick with tension, the kind that prickles at your skin and sets your nerves on edge. You sit at the end of the conference table, leaning back in your chair with a casual arrogance that contrasts with the seriousness of the meeting. Your fingers tap a steady rhythm on the table, an unspoken reminder that you have little patience for the slow, methodical pace at which your brother, L, prefers to work.

Across from you, Light Yagami watches with a measured gaze. He’s been doing that a lot lately—watching you, studying you, as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle that refuses to give up its secrets. You’ve noticed, of course. You notice everything about Light Yagami, just as he seems to notice everything about you.

L, of course, is oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between the two of you. He’s too focused on his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard, eyes narrowed with that constant look of intense concentration. You’ve never understood how he does it, how he can immerse himself so completely in his work, shutting out everything else. Then again, L has always been like that—cold, detached, too absorbed in his pursuit of justice to see what’s right in front of him.

Which is precisely why you’re here. You’re not like your brother. You don’t have his questionable moral code, his unyielding sense of his version of right and wrong. A limiter. You’re willing to do what it takes to catch Kira, to bring this whole mess to an end—no matter the cost. No matter the consequences.

And that makes you dangerous.

You can see it in Light's eyes when he looks at you-- that flicker of something dark, something hungry. It's as if he can sense that beneath your calm demeanor, there's a ruthless pragmatism, a willingness to cross lines that not even your brother would dare touch.

“So, (Alias),” Light’s voice cuts through the quiet hum of the room, smooth and carefully measured, “I’m curious… what’s your take on Kira? You’ve been working with us for a few weeks now, but you haven’t really said much about what you think.”

You glance up, meeting his gaze with a knowing smile. “Does it matter what I think?” you reply casually. “I’m not here to speculate; I’m here to help L catch Kira.”

Light’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—interest, maybe. Or something more. “I think it matters,” he presses, leaning forward slightly. “After all, we’re all trying to get inside Kira’s head, aren’t we? To understand how he thinks, what motivates him. If we don’t understand that, how can we ever hope to catch him?”

You tilt your head, considering his words. “I suppose you have a point,” you concede. “But then again, I’m not sure Kira’s that complicated. He’s a killer, plain and simple. He thinks he’s doing the world a favor, but really, he’s just a self-righteous coward hiding behind a notebook.”

L glances up at this, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows better than to try to rein you in. He knows how little you care for moral posturing.

Light, however, seems intrigued. “A coward?” he echoes, his tone curious. “That’s an interesting perspective. Most people would call him brave… taking on the whole world, standing against crime and corruption.”

You snort, a sound of pure derision. “There’s nothing brave about hiding in the shadows, picking off people from a distance. Bravery would be facing his enemies head-on, not playing God from the safety of anonymity. Kira’s just another egomaniac, desperate for power.”

Light’s smile tightens just a fraction, but his voice remains smooth, unruffled. “And you?” he asks, his gaze piercing. “What are you desperate for, (Alias)?”

You raise an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the directness of the question. “Me? I’m just here to do a job. And to have a little fun while I’m at it.”

Light chuckles, a low, pleasant sound that seems to resonate in the quiet room. “I think you’re more interesting than that,” he murmurs, his tone almost admiring. “You don’t strike me as someone who follows the rules… someone who plays by anyone else’s game.”

You smile back, but there’s a challenge in your expression. “And what game do you think I’m playing, Light?”

For a moment, his eyes darken, and you see that familiar spark, that hunger that’s been growing ever since you first walked into this room. “I think you’re playing a game all your own,” he replies softly. “And I think you’re very good at it.”

You lean back, shrugging nonchalantly. “Maybe I am. Or maybe you just don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

Light's gaze doesn’t waver. If anything, it becomes even more intense, like he’s trying to see straight through you. “Maybe,” he concedes. “But I’d like to.”

Over the next week, Light’s attention on you only intensifies. He’s always around, always watching, always finding reasons to be near you. He offers to work with you on cases, to share his thoughts and theories, to get you alone in a quiet corner of the investigation room where he can ask you questions, probe at your motivations, your desires.

At first, you find it amusing. Light Yagami is handsome, sure, and smart—undeniably so. But there’s something about him, something too perfect, too controlled, like a mask that never slips. You enjoy pushing at it, testing the boundaries, seeing how far you can go before you see the real Light Yagami underneath.

But soon, it becomes clear that Light is playing his own game, one that’s more dangerous than you first realized.

You start finding things—small, seemingly insignificant things. A note slipped into your bag, written in Light’s neat handwriting: “I know you’re not like the others.” Flowers left on your desk, no note, but you know they’re from him. Strange glances from Light's annoying little girlfriend (whose name you don't care to remember), as if she knows something you don’t.

And then there’s Light himself. Always so calm, so composed, but lately there’s a tension to him, a restless energy that makes you feel like you’re standing too close to a fire.

One evening, you’re alone in the task force headquarters. Most of the team has gone home, and even L has retreated to his private quarters, leaving you with a mountain of paperwork and a growing sense of unease.

Light appears in the doorway, his expression unreadable. “Working late?” he asks, his voice light.

You glance up, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. “What’s it to you?”

He steps into the room, moving closer. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t overworking yourself,” he says softly. “It wouldn’t do for you to burn out. You’re too important to this case… and to me.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t realize you cared so much, Yagami.”

He stops just in front of you, too close, his gaze burning into yours. “You have no idea how much I care,” he murmurs.

Something in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. You straighten up, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s your game, Light? What are you really after?”

He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it, just a kind of dark amusement. “You,” he replies simply. “I’m after you.”

You blink, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words. “Me?”

“Yes,” he continues, his voice lowering to a whisper. “You’re different, (Alias). You’re not like the others. You don’t care about rules, about right or wrong. You understand that sometimes, to win, you have to be willing to do whatever it takes. I like that about you.”

You narrow your eyes. “And why do you think that?”

Light leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin. “Because I see it in your eyes. I see the way you look at me, the way you challenge me. You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “Should I be?”

He laughs softly, the sound almost a purr. “Maybe,” he whispers. “Maybe you should be. Because I want you, (Alias). I want you on my side, where you belong.”

You tilt your head, considering him. “And if I say no?”

Light’s smile widens, but there’s something almost manic in his eyes. “You won’t,” he replies. “Because you and I… we’re the same. We’re both willing to do whatever it takes to win.”

You feel a thrill of something—fear, excitement, you’re not sure which. But before you can respond, Light reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch strangely gentle.

“I’m not like the others, (Alias),” he whispers. “I’m not like your brother. I see you for who you really are… and I’m not afraid. I admire it. I admire you.”

You feel your pulse quicken, your breath catching in your throat. Light’s touch is feather-light, yet it feels like a brand, burning into your skin. There’s a gravity to his words, a weight that pulls at you, that tugs at something deep inside you that you hadn’t realized was there.

“I think you’re mistaken, Light,” you say slowly, carefully. “You don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do.”

His fingers linger against your skin, tracing a line down to your jaw, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a kind of electric intensity that sends a shiver through you. “Oh, but I do,” he counters, voice soft but firm. “I see you. I see the way you look at things—the way you look at me. You’re curious. You’re drawn to me. I can feel it.”

You want to deny it, to push him away, to laugh in his face and tell him he’s imagining things. But there’s something in his eyes that stops you, something almost hypnotic. He’s too close, his presence overwhelming, filling up all the space around you until there’s nothing but him—his gaze, his touch, his voice.

“I think you’ve convinced yourself of something that isn’t true,” you reply, but your voice lacks the conviction you’d intended.

Light’s smile widens, and his hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair. “Maybe,” he murmurs, “but I don’t think so. I think you’re just afraid to admit it… afraid of what it means to be seen, truly seen, by someone like me.”

You scoff, but it sounds weaker than you’d like. “And what exactly do you see, Light?”

He leans in, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. “I see someone who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty,” he whispers. “Someone who’s willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want. I see someone like me.”

You feel your heart pound in your chest, a wild, frantic beat that you can’t control. “And what do you want, Light?”

His eyes burn with a fierce intensity. “I want you,” he repeats. “I want you by my side, standing with me when this is all over. Because you’re the only one who can understand what I’m doing, why I’m doing it. You’re the only one who’s worthy of being there.”

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you’re caught in his gaze, unable to look away. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet… powerful, too. As if he’s offering you a piece of his world, a chance to step into something larger than yourself.

But you’re not naive. You know Light is dangerous. You know he’s playing his own game, that he’s hiding something—something big. And yet, there’s a part of you that’s drawn to that danger, to the challenge he represents.

“I’m not your pawn, Light,” you finally say, your voice steady, though your heart is still racing. “I’m not going to just fall in line because you think you’ve figured me out.”

Light’s smile softens, and for a moment, you see something almost… tender in his expression. “I don’t want a pawn,” he replies. “I want a partner. Someone who understands me, someone who shares my vision. And I think, deep down, you want the same thing.”

You swallow hard, the words hanging between you like a loaded gun. “And if I don’t?”

Light’s grip on your neck tightens just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his strength, his control. “Then I’ll just have to convince you,” he whispers. “And I can be very convincing.”

The threat is subtle, almost lost in the softness of his tone, but it’s there, a dark undercurrent that sends a chill down your spine. You realize, with a jolt, just how deep his obsession runs—how far he’s willing to go to make you his.

You pull back slightly, just enough to break the contact, to put some distance between you. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Light,” you warn. “And I don’t think you realize who you’re dealing with.”

He laughs, a low, rich sound that seems to vibrate in your chest. “Oh, I think I know exactly who I’m dealing with,” he replies, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “And I think you’re just afraid to admit that you want this too.”

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog from your mind. “I’m not afraid of anything, Light,” you say, your voice firm, steady.

He steps closer again, refusing to let you retreat. “Then prove it,” he challenges, his voice dropping to a low, seductive whisper. “Prove that you’re not afraid. Take a chance… join me.”

Your heart pounds in your ears, and for a moment, you’re tempted—tempted by the promise in his words, by the fire in his eyes. But you’re not foolish enough to fall into his trap, not yet.

“Maybe I will,” you say, your tone light, almost mocking. “Or maybe I’ll just keep you guessing.”

Light’s smile is sharp, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and amusement. “You’re going to be the death of me, (Alias),” he mutters, but there’s no anger in his voice—only a kind of dark, twisted affection.

You grin. “Good. I’d hate to be boring.”

He laughs again, but there’s an edge to it, a hint of something darker lurking just beneath the surface. “We’ll see,” he murmurs. “We’ll see who ends up bored… and who ends up broken.”

With that, he steps back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns and leaves the room. You watch him go, your mind racing, your heart pounding in your chest.

You know you’ve just walked into a game with Light Yagami—a game with no rules, no boundaries, and no guarantees. A game where the stakes are higher than you’ve ever played before.

And despite the danger, despite the risks… you can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Because for the first time in a long time, you’ve found someone who’s just as ruthless, just as cunning, just as dangerous as you are.

And you can’t wait to see who will win.

©️ LOBOTOMISA 2024 . do not copy my work to other sites or plagiarize my works .

[botanybulbasaur]

Schneider's family ; The significance of Marian

REVERSE 1999 SPOILERS AHEAD : FOR CHAPTERS 1 AND 2 ! Please tread carefully and make sure you only read about what you're willing to know.

I know we're all still completely in shambles from Chap. 2, but I wanted to make a speculation about Schneider-- and a comment about how well she's written !

Let me start with this: In many pieces of media, viewers, listeners and readers alike are told that a character has people they care for. They're told a character has a lover, a wife, kids, a family, a sister. We're told the same about Schneider: that she has 11 older siblings, and that she works in the mafia to support them.

However, it's very rarely that we're given a name and a face for these supposed loved ones. And even rarer is it that they're written well, not just as a ploy for empathy, but as their own character: Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed guests: I present to you, Marian.

Marian is one of my favorite characters just as a stand-alone: she's realistic, she's anxious, she clings to Schneider like a lifeline-- but she's brave, too. I'd love to do an in-depth analysis on her another time, but we're here for another reason.

Marian, first of all, shows us what Schneider's family is like. How they were raised, what they believe in, who they depend on. Soft topic, I know, but as someone of Italian lineage, it's very important to me that I point this out: Marian is extremely religious.

Immigrants of every kind tend to be religious. It gives them much more faith than they ever could have: a new lifeline. They managed to make it across such a winding sea? Oh, thank the lord. They haven't been kicked out of the Americas for emigration? Thank you, holy one. There's so many more reasons for this than "they need something they don't have"- maybe the fact that the rendition of god in every religion is said to love everybody, not just those who were born into wealthy families with the bluest eyes and the blondest hair.

When in a moment with no reason, and all different kinds of desperate measures being needed.. Schneider does what her family coaxes her to. She prays.

(I can't find a screenshot, but please refer to the iconic "I didn't know you prayed" scene, and the screenshot directly below this sentence.)

I also want to point out a large difference between Schneider and her family: Schneider's perspective on a 'god' differs so, so much from her family's.

She looks to whoever may be above, in her world, scornfully-- at least, in the present day. In her past, there is a particularly impactful line I want to debunk.

"The god there ... loves the world." Schnider's family seems to believe that god was the one guiding them, the one who will forgive them-- Schneider believed that it was a whole different entity. This kid believes that the god in Sicily, whoever they may be, does not love the world-- and mio dio, if that's not fucked up, I don't know what is.

And, when Schneider comes to America and sees that shit isn't as it's cut off to be, she's resentful of whoever this god may be. She gives a pray as her last bet-- what her family wants.

And it's not that she doesn't believe in this god-- no. She just doesn't believe they love her.

"Finally forgive me" -- Finally being the key word here. She's lived all her life never being treated to mercy or being 'forgiven for her sins' -- and at her most fragile, exposed moment, she relents to what her family has taught her. To what she truly believes-- to Sicily, to Marian, her sorella. Maybe even all 11 sorelle and her parents.

And, again, they're different at face value. Marian is calm, kind. She dresses modest and has her hair grown out: she's timid, too, not befitting of a mafia boss. She's different from her younger sister.. but she's still important. She shows us another side of Schneider: and, more importantly, she shows us what-- no, who Schneider is fighting for.

Marian provides us with extremely beneficial background context of where Schneider comes from-- and, in that process, gives many of us someone to empathize with. Yes, I too know somebody at least a little like her. You do too, likely.

Maybe, you're even like Schneider-- maybe she's someone you'd aim to protect.

,,aaand that's the little lore rant. Whew! Now to study for my math finals. I hope you have a good day :)

[sosa2imagines]

Broken Hearts. Part 15

Warning- Fluff.

Back at home, there was a mix of relief and concern. On the positive side, the situation with Peter looking like the killer had been resolved.

However, the potential danger of the weed-smoking men hired by the two most despised individuals in the world, loomed over your thoughts.

The ordeal had been far from pleasant, and the realization of the risks you'd encountered settled in.

Amidst the chaos, your phone buzzed with an unexpected text message from an unknown number.

“My doll, you were so brave. That tight slap was impressive. It turned me on.”

“Who's the new long-haired guy? Tell him to keep some distance, doll.”

“Fuck!” you cursed, drawing the attention of everyone back to you.

“Barnes texted me...” you announced, irritation laced in your voice. “And Ari? he hates you.”

Ari, unfazed by the revelation, responded with a sly smirk. “Feeling is mutual.” he said, maintaining his cool demeanor.

“How did Barnes know you were there? That place is hardly a famous spot.” Nick inquired, annoyance evident in his voice.

“Wait,” Jake interjected, pausing his work on his laptop for a moment. “What were the names of the people who hired you guys?”

“Sarah Wilson. She contacted us.”

Jake quickly typed her name into his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Within seconds, a series of missing puzzle pieces began to fall into place.

Jake continued his search and suddenly exclaimed, “Sarah Wilson, sister of Sam Wilson, friend of...” Before he could continue, you and Lloyd chimed in unison, “Steve and Bucky.”

Lloyd's face contorted with anger as he almost exploded with fury. “Those fuckers!” he erupted, his voice dripping with rage.

You expressed your surprise, “Wait, I didn't know Sam had a sister.”

Jake provided the explanation, stating, “That's because she was in Florida before moving to Knockemstiff. And I'm guessing Sam never told you guys much about her.”

You acknowledged his words with a nod, while Lloyd ran his hand over his face in frustration.

“So, Sam must have told them?” Ari speculated.

Lloyd chimed in, a cocky smile on his face as he added, “I prefer them twelve feet down.”

Jake rolled his eyes, amused by their banter. Turning your attention towards him, you asked, “What?”

Jake shrugged in response and responded, “You don't have to work with these two crazy goofs all day. They were about ready to burn this town down for you.”

You smiled apologetically at him, and he returned the expression.

You sat quietly by the window, letting the men do their job. Too much testosterones were giving you a headache, looking at your old and new friends.

Over time, you and Ari had developed a solid friendship. Ari even opened up to you, revealing that he is bisexual and had developed a crush on Lee, not you.

Meanwhile, poor Lloyd remained oblivious to Ari's feelings, and Ari seemed in no hurry to clear up the misunderstanding. Enjoying the teasing, Ari continued to rile up Lloyd while keeping the promise made to Lee a closely guarded secret between you and him.

Jake, the sweetest of the bunch, was truly a gem. He shared your love for food, making him like Peter in that aspect. In the online realm, he was unbeatable, a feat no one could top. He had a cute girlfriend, and you could chat with him for hours, discussing everything from silly to profound topics.

Andy, oh how you wished Steve could be as loyal as him. This guy had gone through countless ups and downs, but he never complained. You, Nick, and Lloyd always prioritized making sure Andy had the time of his life. Andy often treated you like a kid, and he was truly a blessing in your life.

Nick, the handsome star, was known for his womanizing ways. However, he was fiercely loyal to his friends and always had their backs. Despite his intimidating demeanor, your nights out with him were undoubtedly the highlight of your life.

Some might naysay that Nick couldn't be trusted, but the truth was that he loved his friends, particularly you, more than his job or even his own life. And he wasn't afraid to show it to the world, something Steve could undoubtedly learn from.

The time you had spent together had drawn you all closer, and you were thankful to every deity out there for that.

However, nothing could compare to how close you had grown to Lloyd. To some, your relationship might appear rushed, a result of weak moments, but the truth was that you and Lloyd were made for each other.

Despite what others might think, nothing was rushed between you and Lloyd. You went with the flow, allowing your connection to develop naturally. Who knew that back in high school, Lloyd had already held feelings for you?

Even you secretly harbored a crush on him but life took you on separate paths, chasing careers and personal growth. Yet fate, in its mysterious ways, brought you all back together once more.

You couldn't help but compare Steve to Nick and Andy, but when it came to Lloyd, there was no comparison. You sometimes wished you had never married Steve, that it had been Lloyd instead. The thought lingered in your mind, filled with lingering regrets and what-ifs.

While it was true that you had to experience heartbreak and betrayal to be with Lloyd, those challenges served as stepping stones towards your current happiness.

Months, maybe even a year, had passed since Steve had shown you any kind of attention, and his betrayal still weighed heavily on your heart.

However, with Lloyd, you had found solace, and your ex-partners no longer shadowed your heart or mind.

Lloyd's approach to your relationship was vastly different from Steve's. He moved slowly and deliberately, not rushing the process to get it over with. Instead, he took time, being patient and gentle as he carefully stitched your broken and shattered heart back together, piece by piece.

The content smile on your face spoke volumes about your gratitude for him and the rest of your supportive friends.

Lloyd smiled as he sat down beside you.

“What are you thinking about, Sugar?” he asked, to which you replied, “You.”

Lloyd's smile widened at your response. “I'm also grateful for the boys,” you said gratefully.

“You and Ari seem to be close,” Lloyd said, jerking his brow in a playful manner. “Jealous?” you smirked, and Lloyd scoffed in response.

“Lloydy bear,” you teased, “if anything, we have become good friends, nothing else.”

 ”I like it. How about you scream that name when…”

“Don't jinx it,” you quickly cut in, not letting him finish his sentence. “So far, things have been great, and I hope they continue to be.”

Lloyd chuckled at your quick response, his expression softening.

“I know, I know,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I trust you, you know that, right?”

“I know.” You smile proudly.

Lloyd chuckled at your statement, his tone playful yet protective. “I swear I will literally kill anyone who disturbs us!” he said with conviction, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

You laughed softly, pecking him on the lips. “I can turn off my phone...” you suggested, “what about you?”

Lloyd shook his head adamantly. “No phones, nothing!” he declared. “No one is more important than you and me.” He hugged you tighter, wiggling his eyebrows at you in a flirtatious manner.

“Not so fast...” you began, “I want to go out first.”

Lloyd looked at you with a mix of curiosity and eagerness. “As in date?” he asked.

“Yes!” you confirmed, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Fine, be ready by 7:30, the driver will pick you up.” Lloyd replied, a hint of determination in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow slightly, challenging him. “Why can't you pick me up?” you asked, a playful smirk on your face.

Lloyd chuckled at your remark, his eyes glinting with confidence. “I know you can't resist me,” he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “But trust me, it will be worth it.” he continued, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

With that, he left to prepare for the upcoming date, eager to make it the best night of your life.

Your happiness filled the air as you rushed to your room, your excitement akin to that of a teenage girl.

The date on the terrace had left you breathless, and the anticipation for the upcoming one grew with each passing moment. You couldn't imagine how magical the evening would be, but you knew that Lloyd had something extraordinary planned.

Part 14- Part 16

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan @emerald-writes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 4 - Blood of the Dragon

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, eventual Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: none, it's actually a really cute chapter imo, there's like one swear word

Masterlist

"Nobody truly knows what happened when young Daena entered the cave of the Bronze Fury. We can only speculate as to what happened. What we do know is that in the early hours of the next day, the local smallfolk of Dragonstone heard a deafening roar and witnessed the great bronze beast flying alongside the shore. On his back was the little Princess. It is said she flew over the entire Gullet and some say Vermithor's song was heard as far south as Massey's Hook.

Her absence was only noticed when one of the maids tasked with waking her up realized the Princess was missing from her room. The entire castle was in an uproar. Daemon was furious and swore he would mount the head of every man who failed to find her. To his relief, she was found on one of the cliffs near the castle, and next to her was the dragon of the Old King. She was petting and kissing him like he was a giant cat and to everyone's surprise, the dragon seemed to enjoy it. She would forever be known as Daena the Audacious."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

~

107 AC, Dragonstone

Daemon was woken up by someone obnoxiously banging on his door. "WHAT?" He yelled, annoyed. A young maid came in quickly, the one that was assigned to Daena. 

"M-my Prince..." She stuttered, terrified of further angering the Rogue Prince. 

"Spit it out, woman! What happened?" He yelled. 

"P-Princess Daena...she's g-gone. She's not in her b-bed chambers..." She managed to say.

"WHAT!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S GONE!?" Daemon jumped out of bed, dismissed the girl, and quickly got dressed. He walked out into the hallway and started barking out orders. 

"If you don't find her, I'll mount all of your fucking heads on a spike! Do you understand me!? " He yelled, furious. 

The entire castle was on its feet, trying to find the missing princess. Every guard, every maid, every single servant was looking for her. "Where could she have possibly gone?" Daemon murmured as he gripped the pommel of his Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister, his anger rising by the second.

He was currently in her bed chambers, looking to see if there were any signs of a fight or if she was forcibly taken. Nothing like that was found. Besides a messy bed, everything was fine...except the riding suit she came in and her boots. 

"She must have slipped out during the night, unnoticed." Maester Gerardys said. Daemon sighed and pinched his nose. Then, high above the castle, a thunderous roar could be heard.

"My Prince! It's the Princess! She...she's with Vermithor!" A guard informed Daemon, who was sprinting down the castle toward the main gate. This news stopped Daemon in his tracks. 

"What did you just say?" Daemon asked, not believing his ears. 

"She..she flew on Vermithor." The guard repeated. Daemon laughed, not caring for what anyone might say. 

"My brave little girl..." He said with the biggest smile on his face. He then ran outside of the castle. What he saw next would become one of his favorite memories ever. 

Daena's POV

Daena has never felt happier. She was flying on the back of the second-largest dragon in the world. After singing him the lullaby her father always sang to her, she experienced something she only ever dreamed of - she bonded with a dragon. And not just any dragon - Vermithor the Bronze Fury was now her mount and she his rider. They flew over the entire Gullet and if Daena was correct, even flew over the island of Driftmark. She didn't have time to fasten the belts on the saddle so she was holding on for dear life. At one point a flock of seagulls almost hit her in the face, had she not ducked down. 

She didn't know how to feel, or what to think. Her heart was full of joy and pride, for she had finally become a dragon rider, just like her father. Excitement was flowing through her veins, her dragon blood singing with happiness. It was cold and windy, but she felt nothing but the warmth that radiated off of Vermithor. She held tightly to the handles in front of her. All she could see was the sea beneath her and the stars above her. This is what freedom feels like, she thought as they flew even higher above the clouds. 

Once the sun began to rise, she thought it was about time to head back. Vermithor complied with her wishes and headed back for Dragonstone. In what felt like no time, she could see the outlines of the island. Vermithor circled the island one more time and with a mighty roar landed on one of the cliffs near the castle. From atop Vermithor, she could see many people running toward her: guards, dragon keepers, and...her father. She sighed and climbed down the ropes. Once her feet hit the ground she was met with the stern lilac eyes of her father. 

"Skoros lo ao morghūltan? Ao dovodedha riña...Ao drējī issi ñuha tala." (What if you died? You silly girl...you truly are my daughter) He said with the biggest smile Daena had ever seen.

"Are you upset with me?" Daena asked carefully. 

"What? No! I...I am so proud of you, my love. I have never been prouder!" He told her sincerely and hugged her tightly. Daena could feel that he was being honest. 

~

Daemon has never been prouder in his life. He has never been happier, besides the day Daena was born. His little girl claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury. He felt like the proudest father in the world! But he knew what Daena did wasn't right and it needed reprimanding. In the privacy of Daena's room, he sat her down on her bed. He looked at her and saw the biggest smile on her face. 

"My sweet girl, what you did was brave...and foolish." He started and saw the smile disappear from her face. 

"I want you to know that I'm proud of you and you have proved to everyone the strength of Targaryen blood, but you shouldn't have gone out alone. You could've been killed! What would I do then, hmmm?"  He continued and she looked down, embarrassed.

"What would I do without my favorite girl? You're my everything, you know that? I would pluck the stars from the sky if it meant you were happy. But you mustn't be so reckless, do you understand?" He asked as he lifted her chin with his finger. She nodded, refusing to look at him. 

"Jurnegon rȳ nyke." (Look at me.) He told her. She looked up at him with glossy eyes. Her lip trembled and tears spilled down her cheeks. 

"Iksan vaoreznuni Kepa. Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skoros māstan toliot nyke." (I am sorry Father. I don't know what came over me.) She said quietly. He wiped the tears from her face. 

"Don't cry, sweet girl. I do want you to be happy but I also want you to be safe. No more running around without my permission. Understood?" He asked again. She nodded and sniffled. 

"Now. You will go and take a bath and then we can have breakfast together. How does that sound?" He asked softly. 

"It sounds wonderful. Thank you, Father."  She replied with a smile. 

After taking a bath and dressing in a simple silk dress in a pretty shade of dark red, her hair was braided by one of the maids. She was escorted to her father's personal bed chambers. There he was, looking out of the window while holding Dark Sister in his hands. 

"Father." She calls, and he turns. He smiles at her and tells her to sit down. She does and they start eating. He asked her about how she got into the caves and how she bonded with Vermithor. She answered all his questions to the best of her abilities. Once they were done with the food, Daemon beckoned her over.

"I'll have to teach you how to control him, how to talk to him, how to fly." He says to her as he caresses her cheek. She smiles. 

"I would love that. Thank you, Father, for being so understanding", and with that, she left to further explore her ancestral home. 

Daena walked around the castle with no particular goal in mind. She walked through the meandering halls and came upon a great stone door. She carefully pushed the door and the sight in front of her took her breath away. 

"The throne room..." she whispered to herself as her eyes fell upon the magnificent throne that was cut into a giant slab of stone. She slowly walked across the room. The room was bathed in the faint light of the late morning. No one else was present and the only thing that could be heard were the slow footsteps of the princess. 

"Would it be treason to sit on the throne?" Daena thought as she eyed the throne. She approached the throne, standing on the staircase that led to it. "It looks more comfortable than the Iron Throne, that's for certain" she mused.  She was about to touch it, but at the last second, she pulled her hand away.

Instead, she turned her head left and saw an archway leading to another room. She followed it and came upon a room with a beautiful balcony and sea view. There were dragon carvings on the wall, a table, and some chairs in the middle of the room. She leaned her elbows against the balcony and looked at the waves below. "I could live here..." she thought as a light breeze kissed her skin. 

---

High Valyrian:

Skoros lo ao morghūltan? - What if you died?

Ao dovodedha riña...Ao drējī issi ñuha tala - You silly girl...you truly are my daughter

Jurnegon rȳ nyke. - Look at me. 

Iksan vaoreznuni Kepa. - I am sorry Father. 

Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skoros māstan toliot nyke. - I don't know what came over me. 

***

Little Daena is finally a dragon rider! Daemon is ofc, the proudest dad in the whole of Westeros. Next chapter we'll see how the other characters react to the news.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! ❤❤❤

If you have any opinions feel free to comment!

[archonofthestars]

Doubt

I can run, but I can't hide from my family line -Family Line, Conan Gray

Characters: Kaeya, Crepus, Barbatos Tags: References to Kaeya's abandonment, religious doubt, references to Khaenri'ah's curse of immortality

A/N: This is a ficlet for my sister-in-law who wanted Kaeya + Solitude from this fic list. Thanks for putting me back into a Kaeya lore spiral and reminding me how he's one of my favorite characters.

Want to see me write something? Submit an ask!

✧. ┊    

✧. ┊    

In the shadow of the winged god of Mondstat, a small child waits.

This had become a normal sight for the guards and citizens of Mondstat when the day of worship came. 

It went something like this: 

Master Crepus Ragnavir would appear at the Cathedral with his two sons (one a newer addition than the other), all dressed in their church best. The master would laugh and talk with other Mondstatters, asking about their days and how their families were doing. And as the adults entertained themselves, his sons would inevitably find the Gunnhildr girls and the plaza would echo with the sounds of their laughter.

Then the worship bells would ring and the people would assemble to go in for prayer and scripture. Master Crepus and his oldest, Diluc, would fall in line with them while the youngest, Kaeya, would wait at the base of the statue in the plaza.

Once the service was complete, the family would reconnect before heading out to Dawn Winery to finish their day. 

It was inevitably a source of much gossip and speculation, and when asked by those brave enough to, the Dawn Winery master would smile. “Lord Barbatos is a god that does not demand worship or fealty. My son is still learning to understand and believe in his ways, just as we all must.”

And that was all that was said on that matter.

.

.

.

.

Living in a nation that worshipped an Archon always created a confusing knot of emotions for Kaeya when he thought about it too much.

It had been almost a year since Crepus had found him, abandoned on the roads of Mondstat, calling and crying for a father who never returned. And while Kaeya had adjusted to many things in this strange new world and his new family, some things still clung to him from his homeland.

The people of Khaenri’ah did not worship. There were no gods they turned to in times of joy or tribulation. No buildings or statues were built for a person to go and find time and solitude with their chosen god. 

The gods did this to us, an elder of his people once told him. A dark cloak had covered most of her body and face, but he remembered well the vivid blue-black curse marks on her arms. The curse of immortality, the sign of the hatred of the gods from centuries past. It is them who struck down our kingdom and scattered our people. It is because of them we are forgotten and cursed. 

No god will ever receive our fealty. Remember this, young Alberich. 

All his life, the gods were a thing to be feared and hated. They were the reason he and his people were desolate, forced to live in the shadows of Teyvat. It was a unifier among the Khaenri’ans, an enemy they could cultivate their frustration and hatred against. Something to cling to, to give them the drive to continue onward.

And yet now, Kaeya lived with people who actively praised a god, who incorporated Barbatos into their everyday lives and spoke of him with love and reverence. They spoke of his gentleness, his love for his people, and how he had saved Mondstat in days long past when they were oppressed. He had answered their calls and drew Mondstat from the cold darkness into the world of sunlight and green.

“I don’t understand,” he had told Crepus once, a few months back when he had finally worked up the courage to enter the city with his new family. He stood close to his adoptive father, single blue eye staring up at the statue of Barbatos in the evening light.

Kaeya hadn’t meant to say anything, but with the statue looming overhead almost oppressingly to him, he couldn’t help but voice his chaotic thoughts.

“Don't understand what, Kaeya?” 

“Why did Barbatos save Mondstat but not my people? Why did the gods abandon us?” It didn’t make sense. It clashed with everything he knew, everything he had ever heard growing up.

How is it that the gods who tore down Khaenri’ah and cursed her people were the same ones that these people revered and loved?

Kaeya knew he should be angry, he knew he should hate Barbatos and Rex Lapis and the other gods he had heard of. It was what he was supposed to do as a Khaenri’an, what his parents and his elders had told him was his birthright and his responsibility. But instead…he was confused.

He did not know how to reconcile what he had heard all his life, what had been etched into his bones and blood, with what he saw all around him. His elders carried the hatred of the gods on their bodies and the ruins of his homeland spoke of a glory torn down and crushed under divine power. But this sunlit world beyond Khaenri’ah existed because a loving god could not stand by and leave his people’s cries unanswered. 

He did not know who was wrong and who was right.

It left him feeling shaken and cold like the day he had watched his father turn away and disappear forever. Like the foundations of everything he understood had been torn away and he was falling into a dark abyss with no one to save him. 

Crepus had knelt to be on his level, his voice gentle as he spoke. “Kaeya…the gods work in mysterious ways.” He brushed the fringe of Kaeya’s bangs away from his face, revealing more of the eyepatch across the boy’s left eye. “I…I don’t have an answer about your people. But, I do know that Barbatos is a kind and loving god. He cares deeply for the freedom of all his children, and you’re one of his children now. He will protect you and be there for you.

“Does that make sense, son?”

“No god will ever receive our fealty. Remember this, young Alberich.” His elder’s voice whispers in his mind.

“Our nation rests on your shoulders,” His father’s last commands echo faintly in his ears, said to Kaeya as he disappeared into the darkness of the stormy night. “Find the weaknesses of the gods so we can destroy them. This is your solemn duty, my son.”

“...yes, Father,” Kaeya said quietly.

He only hoped the doubt he felt in his heart couldn’t be heard in his words.

[alphashley14]

One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev Next>

Chapter 25

Erase Me (Original Demo)

<WARNING - This chapter contains themes of sexual assault and domestic violence that may be upsetting to some readers. Though no actual SA takes place. Viewer discretion advised.>

Mystery Incorporated didn’t talk much in the few minutes before they arrived at their destination. There had been plenty of idle chatter about Hatecraft’s new boyfriend. And plenty of speculation about what exactly Mystery had said to Mr. Ellison. Or what he may have shown him for that matter - the writer had been very pale when Mystery had brought him back. 

Then Lewis had dropped a bomb on them about Arthur’s flash drive. And if they had to use it, it would fall upon at least one member of Mystery Incorporated to watch it. 

… All things considered it made sense why they hadn’t heard about it before now but the timing was still shit.

Daisy Blake’s impressive property, as with many wealthy homes, was surrounded by a tall wrought iron fence, and the road was blocked by a gate. Given such, when Mystery Incorporated and the Mystery Skulls pulled up to it, it fell upon Daphne to get them buzzed inside. She leaned over Fred on all fours, reached her arm out the driver’s side window, and-  hesitated. 

“We’re doomed,” Daphne gulped. 

“Is your relationship with Daisy really that awful?” Lewis asked over the two-way radio. Having three (albeit adopted) sisters of his own, he sometimes struggled to see how siblings could be anything but inseparable. With Daphne however, it seemed that wasn’t the case.

“It’s pretty bad,” Velma said back. “She commissioned us to retrieve a necklace of hers once after it was stolen by a Hodag, and she was super rude the entire time we were here.”

“Ugh, this is a bad idea. Even if it is the only one we’ve got,” Daphne groaned.

“Come on though. She can’t be completely heartless, right? I mean she’s a doctor. Isn’t caring about people in her job description?” Vivi asked.

“Yeah you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Daphne griped. “Well I’ve never seen her at work but I can definitely say I’ve never seen her flex a selfless muscle in her body outside of it. As for Steve, he’s… I haven’t talked to him that much but he seems like a good guy. But don’t be fooled. He’s from… ‘our world’. So he can slither around in a den of vipers just as well as Daisy.”

“Be that as it may,” Mystery interjected. “What choice do we have?”

“And if all else fails, there’s always the flashdrive…” Lewis reminded them all. 

As if they needed reminding.

Without further ado, Daphne rang the buzzer. 

They waited. 

Daphne rang it again. 

Just as she was about to hit it a third time, a voice drawled through the intercom, “Who is it?” 

“Hi Daisy!” Daphne said as nicely as she could. Though there was an ugly grimace on her face seen only by the other occupants of the Mystery Machine. “Iiit’s Daphne.”

“Daaaphne. Finally taking me up on my offer to bring your little trap-maker by for polo?”

“Fraid’ not, sis. We need to talk. I’m calling in an I-owe-you from when my friends and I braved a Hodag on your behalf. Unless you’ve forgotten?”

“An I-owe-you?” Daisy scoffed. “And here I thought favors among family were supposed to be unconditional.”

Daphne took a deep breath as if she was about to shout, but Velma placed a hand on her shoulder. “Gently, Daphne….”

Daphne let that breath out, then took a second deep breath to gather herself. “Daisy,” she finally said, “you’ve made it abundantly clear my entire life that asking anything of you is pointless. That’s why I stopped trying years ago. Do you really think I’d come to you now if it wasn’t important?”

Daisy said nothing on the other end of the line. 

“Please, Daisy!” Daphne groaned. “I need your help right now more than I have ever needed it in my entire life. Just- hear me out and I will never ask anything of you again. Please.”

A moment’s pause. 

Then there came a loud BZZZZZZT, and the gates swung open. 

Daphne sighed with relief and sat back in her seat. Much to Fred’s relief - Daphne hovering over his lap like that was giving him some weird feelings. But for now, they would have to go into a box to be sorted out later. A big, thick steel box with the best locks his brain could conjure.

They had a job to do. 

Three minutes later the two vans were parked and Daisy’s mansion was towering imposingly before them. Once both groups were squeezed onto the front porch, it was one again time to ring the doorbell. “This is going to be a dumpster fire,” Daphne groaned.

“Come on. I know the odds are against us, but she’s your sister,” Vivi said, trying to be supportive. “If you go in thinking this is going to go badly, then it will. Just think positive!”

“Okay - I am positive this is going to be a dumpster fire.”

Vivi opened and closed her mouth before finally pulling out her phone. “Ya know what? That was funny. I’m writing that down.”

“Regardless of how this goes, with or without using the footage, the result will be the same,” Mystery said. “I want to avoid it if I can, but know this: we have exactly one plan and are pressed for time. Daphne - I will put a spell on your sister if I have to. So for her sake, you’d better use every bit of cunning and charm that you possess.”

“So like, it’s a good thing Daphne has so much of both!” Shaggy said, flashing her two thumbs up. 

“Reah!” “You’ve got this Daph!” Scooby and Fred cheered.

With a heavy sigh, Daphne moved to hit the doorbell, but the door swung open a split-second before she could. And there was Daisy Blake, looking not too pleased to see her sister there unannounced. And even more displeased when she saw just how much company she’d brought with her. 

“Daphne.”

“Daisy.”

“You sure brought a lot of friends. I didn’t realize you had this many outside your little mystery club.”

Daphne’s eye twitched. “Well - you learn something new every day, don’t you?” she said through gritted teeth. “You’ve met Fred, Velma, and Scooby. This is Vivi, Lewis, Arthur, and Mystery. Is Steve home?”

“Yeah, and he’s enjoying a quiet morning in. He worked a twelve hour shift yesterday,” Daisy said, not-so-subtly hinting that they should make this quick. Unfortunately, everyone but Daisy knew that would not be happening.

“Then we’re sorry to disturb him,” said Vivi. “But we need to talk to both of you.”

“To both of us? Just what kind of favor do you have in mind?” Daisy scoffed.

“I have a patient for you,” Daphne said. “And to say the situation is complicated would be an understatement. Can we talk about the details inside?”

To the untrained eye, Daisy’s expression did not change. But the older mystery solvers could all see a calculating glint hiding behind her mascara as Daisy gave a deceptively nonchalant shrug and waved them inside. 

Daisy led them through a maze of large rooms and clean, geometric shapes. Where Hatecraft’s home had celebrated the gothic past, Daisy Blake’s home was grounded in the future. It was dominated by whites, grays, and blues with dashes of magenta, and the art on the walls was inspired by the human body. 

It all made Vivi extremely uncomfortable, and she knew Arthur would hate it here if Shaggy wasn’t walking around in his body right now. The medical motifs and overall lack of character reminded her of a hospital or a doctor’s office. And indeed, many of the “modern” light fixtures and furniture looked as if they’d been taken directly from the couple’s profession. Vivi had spent enough time in hospitals for a lifetime - staying by her friend’s side while he recovered from having his arm ripped off. 

Daisy led them into a spacious living room and sweetly called out, “Stevie darling, we have company.” 

And while there were many less-than-pleasant things that could be said about Daisy Blake, there was real tenderness in her voice for her betrothed, and her face softened when he turned around from where he sat on the couch watching a medical drama. 

Steve Poindexter was as wealthy as he was handsome. Nothing less would please a woman like Daisy. And while he was quite a few years older than her (Daisy was twenty-four and he was thirty-five) there was nothing untoward about their relationship and they were very much in love. 

“Who is it, Daisy Belle? Friends of yours?” He asked, pausing the TV and getting up. 

“Not at all,” Daisy said. “You remember my littlest sister Daphne, I’m sure. And these are some of her little Mystery-solving friends.”

“I know who you are,” Steve said. “Some of my colleagues were there the night you captured a Headless Horror at the hospital. And I was called in to treat one of the victims of the cicada attacks for nerve damage after the bugs wrecked his car. He couldn’t sleep through the night until you kids caught the perpetrator. And for that you have my thanks.”

Mystery Incorporated straightened a little from the uncommon moment of praise for their efforts. 

“-But I get the impression this isn’t a social call.”

“I’m afraid not,” said Daphne. “We need your help. Specifically: we have a patient who needs your help.”

“That’s right - you said something about a patient. So, who is it and what’s the problem?” Daisy asked.

All seven of them glanced at each other.

“Can we sit down?” Daphne asked.

Daisy raised an eyebrow, but allowed it. And once they were all seated around the room across from Daisy and Steve, they began to tell their story.

“You said you treated a victim of the cicada attacks,” Velma said. 

“I did,” said Steve.

“Then you must be familiar with Destroido.”

“Uh, who in Crystal Cove isn’t familiar with Destroido?” Daisy asked in a do-you-think-we’re-stupid? tone of voice.

“Fair,” Velma shrugged. “Getting to our point, you might have heard about those kids that disappeared in the caves twenty years ago.”

“Kids that- Oh yeeeah, those weirdos. I was a few years younger than them, but I saw them around school every now and again,” Steve said. “There was always weird stuff happening around those freaks. And their parrot gave me the creeps.”

“Oh yeeeah… I was like super little when that happened,” Daisy drawled. “Didn’t you find them though? ...Some of them, anyway? Mommy and Daddy hosted a party for trap-boy’s parents here a while back, right?”

“Yeeeah…” Fred sighed. 

“Ohhhh that’s right. You’re the kid the old mayor got locked up for kidnapping,” Steve cringed.

“That’s me…” Fred said awkwardly.

“Anyway!” Dahne interjected. “We actually did find all of them. In fact the other two had both been living in Crystal Cove under new identities for some time. Cassidy Williams is actually Angel Dynamite, the DJ at K-Ghoul radio.”

“Wait- The one that exploded? Didn’t you used to be there all the time?” Daisy asked.

“That’s the one,” Daphne said, shocked Daisy had paid her enough attention to know that. “-And the last one, Ricky Owens, has been going by Mr. E… he’s the owner of Destroido.”

If Steve or Daisy had been drinking something, they undoubtedly would have spat it out. “Whaaat?”

“It’s true,” Vivi said. “And he’s also the patient we need you to treat.”

“Isn’t the owner of Destroido like… a billionaire? And a total recluse?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah. How the heck did you get involved with someone like that?” Daisy asked. 

“And for that matter, why doesn’t he just hire us himself if he needs treatment? Or go to the hospital? Why would he need some kids to seek out our services for him?” Steve asked. 

“Like- hoh boy, those are all excellent questions,” Shaggy gulped. 

“And that is what we meant when we said this situation was complicated,” said Velma. 

“But before we tell you anything else - Daisy, Steve, I need you to promise that none of it leaves this room,” Daphne said. “If we don’t have your discretion, people could get seriously hurt. Possibly even die.”

Daisy started to laugh. But then she saw the look on her sister’s face, and the haughty facade melted away a little bit more. “Oh… oh shit, you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Like I said,” Daphne sighed, “I wouldn’t have bothered coming to you if it wasn’t important.”

Daisy and Steve looked at each other and came to a silent agreement. “Alright,” said Daisy, “you have my word.”

“We’re no strangers to confidentiality,” Steve said with a nod. “But I reserve the right to use my best judgment.”

“If you have any respect for yourselves, your profession, or your patients,” Mystery growled, “you’ll treasure the trust being placed in your hands and keep your mouths shut.” 

Daisy and Steve stared at him. “Just so we’re clear… that dog just talked. Right?” Asked Steve. 

“See, Darling? I told you weird things happen around Daphne. But I thought that was the one who talks.” 

“Reah. I can talk too,” said Scooby.

Steve blinked at him. “... Huh.”

“Ha! If you think that’s weird, you are not prepared,” Vivi scoffed.

“So? Do we have your confidentiality or not?” Asked Mystery. 

Steve was now wearing the same calculating look as his betrothed. “...Alright.”

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Cassidy Williams woke very suddenly to an empty room. 

What in the world? How did I- Mystery! That son of a bitch! Grumbling curses under her breath, Angel sat up with a groan, stretching this way and that to relieve the stiffness in her limbs before her eyes wandered to the empty spot on the couch where Ricky had been. Then she spotted two pieces of stationary on the coffee table. After reading them, she realized that he must’ve woken up a while ago and wandered off to find something to do. 

Cassidy stood and stretched once more to loosen the sore muscles in her thighs and buttocks, and then there came a happy trilling sound. When she looked up, she found two Dead Beats floating into the room towards her. “Hey babies, how you doin?” Angel chuckled as they snaked around her neck and torso for pets. “You mind showin’ me where that fool Ricky got to?”

The little ghosts gave an affirming chirp and made a “follow me!” motion with their nubby little arms. 

They found Ricky in the kitchen. The lights were off in the daytime and the only light was streaming in from a window above the sink. Bubbles drifted lazily through the air, catching the light with sparkling rainbow sheens before popping in a shower of tiny droplets like falling stars. And standing at the sink, jacket tied around his waist and his bare arms elbow-deep in soapy water, was Ricky. Well- Ricky-in-Shaggy’s-body, that is. 

His back was to the door, and he was working his way through the mountain of dirty dishes from their huge breakfast that morning. There were also Dead Beats all over the place. There had to be at least twenty! Ricky would finish a dish, inspect it, then hold it up and a Dead Beat would take it and either find a place in the dishwasher or carefully stack it in one of the cabinets. Those that weren’t helping were hanging around the room watching Ricky work. There was a radio on the counter playing one of their hosts’ more upbeat, hopeful-sounding songs, and Ricky was lightly bobbing his head along while the Dead Beats pulsed and hummed to the beat. 

“-In this life, it changes for the better, babe.  And right now, I feel it, overtaking meee~…. Oooh. “Said please baby, please. Erase me. Erase my mind again-”

Cassidy hadn’t seen him so content since she’d arrived. For a few moments she was content to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him. But she knew she couldn’t lurk forever. 

“Hey, baby.”

Shaggy’s body jumped in a way that was utterly and completely Ricky, and when he spun around his entire face was as pink as the Dead Beats. “Ca-Cassidy! Uh- hi. I was just- dishes,” He stammered. In a way that was just as stupid as it was endearing, and his own embarrassment only turned his face redder. 

“And just like before, we’ll fall in love.”

Cassidy snorted and crossed the room in a few strides, brushing the mob of ghosts away as they tried to crowd around her for attention. “Here. It’ll get done faster with two,” she said, standing at the large sink beside him. He scooted over a little to give her room, but her hip still ended up brushing against his thigh. His blush wasn’t going away. Interesting. 

“We’ll fall in love again.”

“I’m uh- glad you’re up,” Ricky said as the two of them got into the chore. “I woke up a while ago and hung around for a while but… then I got hungry and when I got to the kitchen there were all these dishes so I figured… might as well, am I right? Anyway - did you sleep good?” 

“Well given that a spell was put on me, I don’t think I got much of a say in how I slept,” Cassidy grumbled. 

Ricky snorted. “Me neither. Though I at least wanted the sleeping potion, even if I was the idiot who took it at the wrong time. Still - do you at least feel better? It didn’t occur to me how long you must’ve been awake.”

Cassidy pressed her lips into a thin line. “Yeah… I do.” She admitted dryly, but then she waved a sudsy ladle at him and scolded, “-And if you tell Mystery that, I’ll smack you silly!”

Ricky laughed. “Don’t worry - I won’t. Can’t give him the satisfaction after pulling one over on us, now can we?” 

“Definitely not,” she agreed. 

As the song came to a close and the two worked in silence, Cassidy gradually realized that Ricky was tensing up again. His brows were furrowed and there was a troubled look on his face. Was he considering telling her whatever it was everyone seemed to be tiptoeing around? Or was there something else?

“So…?” Cassidy finally said, not looking at him.

Ricky jumped. “So?” He echoed, pretending not to know what she could be “so”-ing about. 

“Is there anything you wanna tell me?” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him starting to sweat, and the nervous bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “Uh-huh,” he croaked. 

Cassidy paused what she was doing, forearms resting on the edge of the sink, and looked at him. Waiting. 

Ricky looked petrified.

Probably on account of the fact that he was petrified.

He had been thinking about this, dreading this, since he’d hung up the phone with Lewis. But all those thoughts had done was draw a new weariness over him. So heavy on his shoulders it had been tempting to lie back down, close his eyes, and return to that familiar, comfortable blackness where he wouldn’t need to think about it anymore. That was why he’d left the room in the first place. Watching Cassidy, still blissfully dozing, he’d found himself envious of the peace written on her face. But now that her beautiful black eyes were open and expectant, the words were shriveling on his tongue. 

What sort of expression will you make when you find out what kind of man I became without you? Ricky wondered. Will you be able to look at me at all, once you know what it took to change me?

His hands were shaking when he took them out of the water and hastily dried them with a dishtowel. “I- uh…” He opened and closed his mouth a few times. 

A moment passed. 

Then another. 

Then finally he shook his head. 

“... I can’t.” 

Cassidy bit her bottom lip. She was frustrated. And honestly a little hurt. But instead of getting angry she asked, “Why not?... The others know. So you told them. Why not me?”

Ricky didn’t say it, but he knew exactly why. 

Because whatever care or respect you have left for me is one of the few things I have left to lose.

“When I… told them,” Ricky began shakily, fiddling with his hands, “it was right after- well- this happened.” He gestured to himself, in Shaggy’s body. “I was emotional, and it was an emergency. But now… the words’ve just left me.”

“Then you don’t have to tell me everything yet,” Cassidy sighed, resigned. “But… can you try? Just- start wherever makes sense and tell me what you can.”

Ricky still looked absolutely terrified, but he nodded. “... okay.” 

He didn’t say anything for a moment. 

Then another. 

Then finally- 

“I said no,” Ricky said, right as Cassidy was starting to worry he wasn’t going to say anything at all. “Professor Pericles was spiraling. I’d gone along with… things I’m not proud of. But after a certain point… what we were doing didn’t make sense anymore. He was hurting people. And it was as if he was enjoying it. And that- wasn’t what I signed up for. At least I didn’t think it was. And I’m ashamed to say it, but I think it was his reckless spending that snapped me out of it. He’s spent millions. Hundreds of millions, Cassidy. Of Destroido’s money - my money. Often without permission, and never with so much as a ‘thank you.’ And ya know what? Yeah - that pissed me off. Enough that money-related questions led me to the questions I probably-definitely should have been asking all along. I knew I had to do something so- I locked him out of the system. I was losing control of the group and figured if they needed me to access every cent, then I could filter what they did with it. And uh… he- didn’t like that very much.” 

Ricky still remembered the surge of fear that went through him when Pericles had launched himself off his perch. Could still feel the sting on his cheek. “-Idiot human mascot!”

“So he uh- anyway- he attacked me.”

“I’m sorry. He attacked you? How? Were you hurt?!” She demanded. 

“It was just a slap!” Ricky said quickly. Only to immediately kick himself. Why is your first instinct to defend him??? “But uh… he’d- never hit me before, ya’know?” He said with a half-assed smile. “He’d- said some pretty nasty things but he’d never- so it uh… really smacked some sense into me, huh?” He laughed halfheartedly at his own joke, trying to lighten the mood. 

Cassidy wasn’t laughing. Cassidy looked horrified. Ricky looked away so he wouldn’t have to see that look on her face anymore. 

“It- made it clear to me that I was gonna have to do something drastic, so I went to Brad and Judy. He was out of control. Losing his mind, really. And he wasn’t even pretending to listen to me anymore. I thought if I could get all three of us to throw him out, or at least threaten to, then I could make him see reason. But uh…”

His voice cracked, and he had to swallow and pause before he could talk again. “They uh… they lied to me. They told me to my face that they were with me. But then they went straight to him. And uh… he uh…” Ricky choked back a sob, his vision blurring with tears. 

‘Tell her…’ that pitiful part of him whimpered once more. ‘Come on! Just say it!’  

Cassidy’s arm, still wet from the sink, slid around his. And she gently interlaced their fingers. She didn’t say anything, but she was there. Grounding him. Listening. Waiting. 

“They- they drugged me and they- he put s-something…” Ricky shuddered, but he just couldn’t get those last few words out. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her about the thing in his back. How dirty he felt all the time knowing that there was something inside him that could turn on him at any moment. The torture. The way Pericles had laughed while Ricky screamed… 

“Cassidy, I messed up. I-I messed up so bad. I’m in so much trouble… I couldn’t refuse him anything anymore, I couldn’t leave, and I had no one to go to for help. I’m- I’m a prisoner in my own home. Then this happened, and now Arthur’s in my place. But he’s- he’s not me. He’s smart, he’s brave, and he has friends. I’m fucked - but Arthur has a plan to get me un-fucked, and he’s doing it with my body.” 

Ricky paused to sniff and rub the wetness from his eyes with his wrist. “The others are uh… in Crystal Cove right now. They’ve gone to one of Daphne’s sisters for help, but in order to prove what’s happening to me and show her what we’re up against… Arthur and Hot Dog- Marcie - hacked Destroido’s cameras. Anyway… they uploaded all the footage they could onto a flashdrive and uh- and right about now the kids are probably watching it.” And his eyes were wet when he turned and smiled at her. “-And when they get back… I think I need you to see it too.”

Cassidy was staring at him with an expression that was almost unreadable. “Ricky,” she said at last. “I won’t push too hard. But please- please at the very least tell me this: Ricky… Ricky, they didn’t!”

Confusion stabbed through his other emotions. What’s with that face? “Didn’t what-” Then he thought about what he’d said, and realized what she was insinuating.

“Oh! Oh shit- NO! Nonono! It was nothing like that! I swear!” 

She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for honesty. Then quietly, she pressed her forehead to his shoulder and all but sagged against him. “Thank god…”

Oh no… “Cassidy…” When was the last time she’d- it had been years since he had last seen her this upset. He knew the sadness in her eyes. He knew the longing he either ignored, denied, or pretended not to see. And he remembered her anger. The night she’d stormed into Destroido on her bike, the night he’d been found out for being behind the Oblitheratrix, the night they’d stopped working together… he remembered her anger. He remembered the shouting, the screaming, the arm-waving and circle-walking as she raved and berated him for his foolishness. He remembered hurled insults and both of them saying things they regretted later. 

And most of all, he remembered that one last tearful look over her shoulder when she left his home and never came back. 

But she wasn’t angry now. She was relieved and she was scared. For him. He dared to turn so her head was on his chest, his free arm came around her shoulders, and then… he dared press his nose into her curls. “I’m sorry, Cassidy. I didn’t mean to- it really wasn’t anything like that… I’m alright… Nobody- nobody touched me.”

And yet… the connection Cassidy had made bothered him. Was it really ‘nothing like that?’ He couldn’t help but wonder. Even if nothing overtly sexual had been done to him… now that Ricky was thinking about it that way: they had drugged him. Snuck into his room while he was sleeping. And while he was defenseless and vulnerable, they… put something inside him. And after that, he could never say no again… 

He remembered that dirty feeling. Then a whole new wave of revulsion washed over him as he realized fully, perhaps for the first time, just how truly violated he had been. How he was still being violated now. Professor Pericles, along with Brad and Judy, had taken over his home, his finances, his autonomy… and even if not in the way Cassidy had assumed - they’d violated his body too. 

“Promise me, Ricky,” Cassidy said at last. 

Her eyes were wet when she looked up at him. And they were simmering like hot coals. She didn’t know the full truth yet. But he knew that look. 

Rage.

“Swear to me that they didn’t violate you. Not like that. And not in any other way. Swear it!” 

He wanted to. 

But he’d also promised himself that he wouldn’t lie to her anymore. 

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Daisy and Steve were looking at them like they had lost their minds. 

To be fair though, if someone had come to them with the same story two days ago, they probably would have reacted the same way. 

“So. Let me see if I have the facts right,” Daisy said, disbelieving. “There was another mystery-solving group that got chased out of Crystal Cove twenty years ago by their psychotic genius talking pet parrot and the former mayor in a monster costume. But the parrot escaped from the animal asylum after a robot dog disguised as your dog attacked the place. And has now joined forces with two of the aforementioned missing kids - who happen to be trap-boy here’s long-lost parents - and trapped a third one, Ricky Owens, who has apparently been living as this “Mr. E” guy for… who knows how long, in some kind of domestic violence-type situation-”

“It really does get more and more bonkers the more you put it into words, doesn’t it?” Lewis muttered. Vivi, Mystery, Shaggy, and Scooby all nodded in agreement. 

“-So you’ve come here to ask my beautiful fiancee and I to surgically remove a small capsule of- mutated cobra larve from his lower back. Which the parrot has been using to torture and control him. Do I have that right?”

Daphne took a deep breath through her nose and said, as seriously as she could, “Daisy. You do not even have all of the facts for how absolutely bat-shit insane this situation is. But yeah - that’s the gist of it.”

“Oh my God, you have lost your mind.” 

“Daisy-”

“Get out.”

“Please, sis-” 

“You must think I’m either crazy or stupid to believe one word of this!” Daisy shouted! “Now get out!” 

“We can prove it,” said Lewis.

Daisy faltered, her eyes widening with surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting proof. Mystery Incorporated stiffened. Right… the flashdrive.

Lewis pulled it out of a pocket inside his vest, and all eyes locked on the small purple piece of plastic and metal pinched between his fingers. “- We’re not just rescuing Mr. E. He’s also working to rescue himself. With a little help, he hacked his own system. There’s hours of security footage and multiple notes and photographs on this flashdrive, proving everything we just told you. If you take a look and still refuse, then there’s not much we can do. But you have no idea what he risked to get this out of Destroido. We owe it to him to use it… Please, Dr. Blake…”

Daisy’s eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed, tapping one manicured nail against her crossed arms. Thinking. Then finally, she looked over at her fiance. Steve shrugged his shoulders with a look that said ‘I’m kinda curious not gonna lie…’ And Daisy rolled her eyes to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. “Fine. We’ll have a look. But no promises.”

“Thank you,” Lewis sighed. “Now Velma, if you would please get out your computer, I’ll leave this with you and we’ll be waiting in the van. Give us a call when you’re done or if you need anything.”

“Wait- where are they going?” Steve asked. 

“You seeing that footage is us using it as intended, and Ricky gave them permission to see it. Not us,” Vivi shrugged. “It’s only right to honor his wishes.”

Velma waited a few moments for the Mystery Skulls’ retreating footsteps to disappear altogether before she opened her laptop, plugged the drive into the port, and began typing away to access its files. 

And then, there it was. 

File after file after file, letters and numbers stark white on a black background. Hours worth of footage, just waiting to be played. “Holy- Jinkies, there it is,” Velma said shakily. 

“What? Have you not even looked at it yet?” Daisy scoffed. 

“We only just acquired this footage last night, and the contents are some sensitive stuff,” Daphne said. 

“Like there’s so much of it. Where do we even start?” Shaggy (still in Arthur’s body) asked. Daisy, who paid little attention to her sister’s friend group, didn’t pay his appearance any mind.

“And before we do… is everyone here ready to see this? And do you want to?” Fred asked his friends. “We don’t really know what we’re about to see, and it’s like the Mystery Skulls said - it’s our choice who in our group does. If any of you walk out now, I won’t judge.”

“Like… I feel like we owe it to Arth- to Mr. E to see it, after how hard he worked to get this to us,” Shaggy gulped. “And like- Ricky said he wanted us to see it… so like yeah. I’m not going anywhere,” Shaggy said. 

“Ree too,” Scooby nodded. 

“In spite of everything that’s happened… I feel like I need to see this,” Velma agreed. 

Daphne and Fred looked at each other and came to the same silent agreement as the others: they weren’t going anywhere. 

“Right… as to where we start,” Velma said, “It looks like Ar- Mr. E and Marcie have made a small legend at the top of the file list for things that happen in each video, and each one has a title and description too.”

“What’s the first video say? Is that when… it first happened?” Daphne asked nervously. 

“I don’t think so. Look at the legend,” Velma pointed out. “He’s used a small icon that looks like a red circle to indicate each time the remote was used, and there isn’t one on the first video.”

“There are icons there though,” Scooby said. “Rut do those mean?” Scooby was talking about two icons beside the video’s title - “Confrontation1” The first one he was pointing to was spiky, orange, and yellow. Like a collision. The next was a man’s head, his mouth open and lines coming out, like he was talking. 

Their eyes wandered to the legend. 

💥 Physical abuse.  🗣️ Verbal abuse. 

Velma hit play. 

The video started out with Mr. E - the real Mr. E, still in his own body, sitting in front of his monitors. Velma recognized at once where it was - on his island office in the middle of his dramatic-ass shark moat. 

“Who’s that?” Daisy asked. 

“Your patient,” Fred said.

“That’s Ricky Owens?” Steve balked. “Damn - he let himself go.”

“It’s called depression and it happens to people when they suddenly lose everything at age seventeen,” Daphne snapped. And the rest of her friends were glaring at him too. Steve quickly shut his mouth. 

Whatever Mr. E had been up to, the glaring light in the dim room prevented any of them from making it out on the screens. But he jumped and quickly turned it off when Professor Pericles appeared onscreen with an angry shout. 

“Ricky! Ricky what have you done?! I’ve been locked out of the system!” 

“I know - I did it on purpose,” Mr. E snarled, rising to his feet. “You’re out of control, Professor Pericles! And I’m putting a stop to it! I’m in charge - I built Destroido from the ground up! While you were cooling your beak in prison! It’s time that I-” 

WHACK. 

The five Mystery solvers went rigid with shock. 

They’d heard about some of the things Professor Pericles had said and done to Mr. E. Seeing it themselves was another matter entirely. And Ricky had never said anything about- he hit him. And when they heard what he said next, their jaws dropped.

“You are in charge of nothing, Ricky Owens! You have never been anything other than an idiotic human mascot! A shoulder for me to perch upon!” 

The Mr. E on the screen was so startled- so genuinely frightened of the very creature he’d deluded himself into seeing as a friend, that he was silent for a long moment. Then he gingerly touched the red side of his face, wincing. “... You don’t mean that,” he said quietly. Pitifully hopeful. Still in denial. Still desperate for something that wasn’t there, and maybe never had been.

Professor Pericles sneered down at him like a bad seed in his bird feed. “You will restore my access by the end of the day.” 

“And if I don’t?” Ricky growled. Stubborn. Trying to be brave when it was clear even through a screen that he was terrified. 

Professor Pericles smiled at him in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. One foot came up to touch Ricky’s large nose with deceptive tenderness. 

Then he dug his talons in. 

Not enough to break the skin, but just enough to hurt. Ricky hissed with pain. “You’re a very valuable egg, Ricky,” Pericles sneered. “I’d hate to have to break you.”

“Pericles- stop. That- ow! That’s enough!” Ricky shouted. He shoved the parrot off of him with a great flapping of feathers as the parrot perched himself on the edge of the chair. Ricky got to his feet before he could regain the upper hand. 

“Restore. My access,” Pericles demanded. 

“Really? That’s all you care about?! You hit me!” Ricky barked.

For a split-second, Pericles’ expression turned positively venomous. But then it softened. “Ricky,” he said in a jarringly tender voice. “How are we to move forward when I don’t have access to our resources? The treasure is at hand. Whatever investment we make in attaining it will be returned to us beyond calculation.” 

“You mean whatever investment I make,” Ricky corrected him. “How much of your own money have you spent, exactly? Or Brad and Judy’s? Why is what I worked for worth so little to you?” 

“Und here I was under the impression you’d grown up,” Pericles tutted disappointedly. “I didn’t realize you were so selfish. Isn’t locking me out rather childish?”

“I- you- shut up!” Ricky shouted! And Mystery Incorporated suddenly remembered what Ricky had said, about how Pericles knew exactly what buttons to push. “Shut up and get out! I don’t want to talk to you- I don’t even want to look at you right now. You want your access back? Earn it back!”

“After everything I’ve sacrificed-” 

“You’ve sacrificed?! What about my sacrifices? You’ve cost me everything, and still you find more to take.”

“Vögelchen… You told me once that I was family. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean nothing when you betrayed me?! But unlike you, yes. It means something. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you or that I trust you. Not for back then, and certainly not for that shit you just pulled. Now get out.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you stop acting like a child!”

“Fine! Then I’ll leave! There’s plenty of places for me to go! It’s my house!” 

“Don’t you turn your back on me, Ricky Owens!”

“Watch me!”

And Ricky wasn’t kidding. Mr. E stormed over the bridge, went out a side exit, and when Professor Pericles tried to follow a steel door slammed shut within an inch of his beak. 

Then Professor Pericles was alone. But the video wasn’t over yet. He flew back over to the island and perched himself on the top edge of that ring of monitors, looking up at the fish swimming in the lake above. What he said next couldn’t be heard very well, with how quietly he was speaking and the way German was mixed in. But they could make out this: “My Master… my master was right. Mein Vögelchen ist only human after all… no different from…” 

He was staring off into space when the video ended. 

They stared at that last frame for several long moments. Visibly unsettled. 

“Well- um- that was-” There were holes in Daisy’s unbothered facade. “So like- I guess he really is Ricky Owens, huh?”

“That was definitely the same parrot…” Steve muttered. “Knew he gave me the creeps.”

“Like um… that was like…” Shaggy stuttered.

“Yeah,” Fred said. None of them even had the words. 

“I didn’t see any torture though…” Daisy scoffed. 

And even if the way she said it was insensitive, she was right: they hadn’t seen what they needed to just yet. 

The second, third, and fourth videos, according to their captions, were of Brad and Judy conspiring with Professor Pericles against Ricky. There wasn’t any footage of Ricky going to Brad and Judy with his plan to turn on Pericles, as he’d been smart enough to avoid the cameras in case Pericles was monitoring them. But because the others weren’t nearly as familiar with the placement of the cameras as Ricky, a lot of their activities were on camera. Which added yet another layer to the tragedy: if Ricky had only checked his footage at the right time, what happened to him next could have been avoided. 

Then, along with video evidence of their verbal conspiracy, there was a short clip of the Original Mystery Incorporated having dinner together, and Arthur had managed to find the exact moment Brad’s hand moved nonchalantly over Ricky’s drink. Then when it cut to the end of the meal, it showed Ricky walking with a slight stagger into the hallway where his rooms were apparently located, unaware he’d clearly been drugged. Then there was a clip with a timestamp about two hours later of Brad, Judy, and Pericles entering that same hallway with a briefcase, then leaving thirty minutes after that. But there weren’t any cameras in the rooms themselves or joining hallways, so there was no footage of them actually committing the crime.

Then there was the seventh video.

The first one with a big red circle beside its’ title:

“Confrontation2+Confession 🔴”

Velma clicked on it. 

Again, it was on that central island in Mr. E’s lair. Ricky was pacing to and fro across the floor, arms crossed, while Brad and Judy stood side by side watching him as if they hadn’t committed an unforgivable sin just the night before. 

“He’s late,” Ricky griped. 

“You know he shows up when he means to,” Judy said. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t you think Brad?”

“Right you are, Judy. You know he’ll be looking to get his system access back, and making you wait isn’t the way to do it, Ricky.”

“Suppose you’re right…” Ricky grumbled. And he looked proud. Proud of himself for standing up to Pericles for once. Happy that he still had two old friends who had his back. Hopeful that after this, things would be better. That they’d change their approach, and no one else would have to get hurt once he took the reins back.

The new Mystery Incorporated were on the edge of their seats.  Daphne was holding Fred’s hand, Shaggy and Scooby were hugging each other, and Velma was anxiously tapping her heel. Even Daisy and Steven, who weren’t involved yet, were tense. There was a sort of hopelessness to watching this footage. Like watching a train wreck: they all knew how it ended.

Then Pericles arrived. 

He landed with a flutter on the edge of a desk beside Brad and Judy. And when he spoke his voice was jovial, yet his remaining green eye glinted with malevolence.

“Ricky. Brad. Judy. Do forgive my tardiness. Now Ricky, what did you need to interrupt my work to talk about?” 

“This isn’t a talk, Professor Pericles. It’s an intervention. Things can’t continue as they have.”

“Oh? Und how have they been?” Pericles asked. And there it was - that hostility. Almost a ‘how-dare-you?’

“As you know, I’ve revoked your system access.”

“Ja. And you still haven’t returned it, as I told you to.”

“And there it is!” Ricky exclaimed. “You can't order me to do anything, Professor Pericles. When I agreed to this partnership, it was a part-ner-ship. That means you and I. Working together towards a common goal, each respecting the other. But you haven’t respected me or anything of mine since almost the beginning. You have spent tens of millions without my permission on plans that you have gone through with behind my back. You have poked your beak into parts of my life and business that don’t concern you and I didn’t want you in. And overall - you have gone too far. It isn’t just the expenses that bother me. The collateral damage of your last few schemes have been insane.”

“Bah! One cannot make a genius omlette-”

“‘-Without breaking a few worthless eggs.’ Yeah - that’s what you keep saying. But you know what? People aren’t eggs. By the time you actually told me about that ridiculous skull cattle plan of yours, you’d already spent a fortune making them. Then by the time we expunged what was left of them out of my company, they had eaten twenty-nine of my best scientists. And at least forty of my other staff. My people, Pericles. People with families who I was responsible for. I told you I thought it was insanity, but did you listen? Their deaths are on me because I didn’t stand up to you sooner. Not to mention all the casualties in Crystal Cove, or the homes and businesses they destroyed. All for a plan that didn’t even work! I don’t care how much of my money you’d already spent on those creatures. I should’ve had them all killed the minute I found out about them!”

“But you didn’t,” Pericles said. “You’re judging my sins, Mister E? Then you're a damn hypocrite. What if not blood is your kingdom built upon, Ricky Owens? All you are is a false king sitting on a throne of poisoned land and ruined lives!” 

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?” Ricky roared. “YOU THINK I LIKE THE PERSON I’VE BECOME? When I was a boy, I had a different dream for this company. I wanted…” But then Ricky gritted his teeth and looked away. “Nice deflection,” he grumbled. “But I’m not letting you do that this time. Because I might be a piece of shit, but we’re not talking about me. We are talking about you: Out of control and out of your damn mind. But you know what? I can see it on your face. I could talk myself hoarse, but you’re not listening.”

“My ears are working just fine, Vögelchen.”

“Don’t. Call me that,” Ricky seethed. “There is a difference between hearing and listening, Pericles. And if you won’t listen to me, then you’ve not left me with much choice: Get out. And I don’t mean out of the room this time. Get out of my home, out of my company, out of my life. I can’t exactly make you leave Crystal Cove, but us? I’ve talked to Brad and Judy about it already, and we’re all in agreement: you’re done. Out.”

“Out? You think you can banish me?” Pericles smirked. 

“Yes. I do. Destroido is mine. So you see Professor Pericles, it’s over! You’re not the boss here, I am! And you’re out of the group!”

The camera caught Pericles pulling a big red button out of a pocket in his scarf and there came a collective gasp of horror. 

The instant Pericles pushed it, Ricky’s body froze in a position that wasn’t natural. His eyes widened with shock. Horror. Confusion. In so much pain he couldn’t even muster the breath to scream.

“Oh Ricky, Ricky,” Pericles tutted. “My loyal Brad and Judy told me of your little mutiny. So, last night while you were asleep, I put mutated cobra larvae in your spine! Every time I push this button… a little venom is released.”

And there it was. Straight out of his own beak.

They saw it all. They heard Pericles boast about what he was planning to do, and they heard him laugh. They saw Brad and Judy, smirking at one another as if they were proud of what they’d done. And they saw Ricky. They saw him fall to his knees, unable to stand. They heard the sound that found its way through the audio - somewhere between a whimper and a grunt. Then finally, as the torture continued and Pericles still didn’t let up, a damn burst and Ricky cried out!

None of them would ever forget that sound.

He was convulsing, shaking, crying, begging for it to stop, making any number of promises between sobs. 

And Pericles was enjoying it.

That was when Velma slammed the laptop shut with a snap, unable to bear watching a second more. 

Not a soul stopped her or asked to see the rest.

And for a long minute, they were quiet. The silence was only broken by the sounds of Daphne quietly sniffling. Fred was stunned stiff beside her. Scooby was huddled as close as he possibly could to his boy, and Shaggy felt as if he was going to be sick. As for Velma? She was thinking. Thinking so much so fast that her brain was overwhelming itself. Or perhaps not. It was more like her brain was so horrified that she couldn’t conjure any thoughts at all. Silently, she put both feet up on Daisy’s expensive leather couch and hugged her knees to her chest, still staring at the closed laptop. 

They would wonder to themselves later, if they lost something when they watched that footage. 

Subsequently, they would also wonder what they gained. 

Either way, they got what they came for.

Daisy left the room. 

She straightened her back, arms crossed, and briskly yet gracefully walked out of the room, her heels clicking against the tile. Looking almost as disturbed as his betrothed, Steven rushed out after her. 

They didn’t come back for a very long time.

And there it is! Chapter 25! I know I promised to post it on Sunday and I'm technically posting it on Monday, 2am isn't thaaaat late, right? I spent all day working on revisions and that lllovely little piece of fanart that I put so much of my heart and soul into. (My one regret is that Tumblr is going to condense it so, SO much 😑) I was having a really good conversation with @angorwhosebabyisthis a while back about SDMI, specifically about Ricky, Pericles, and their relationship, and they pointed out to me that the way Pericles physically abuses Ricky using a device that he has literally inserted inside of him is quite obviously an allegory for rape. And I'm not going to lie - I had never drawn that comparison before. But once I saw it I couldn't unsee it. And I think it's extremely important that more adult fans do and that it gets talked about in the SDMI discourse. Because if more people have realized it, and I certainly hadn't, then I certainly haven't seen anyone else talking about it and I haven't read about it in any other fics. Likely because in spite of its' extremely adult, dark themes, SDMI is for all intents and purposes a "kids' show." Not to mention it's an extremely heavy and oftentimes taboo topic even among adults. But while it is the former, I don't believe it should be the latter. I rated this fic M for mature from the start and have piled on the angst this much already. So even if it isn't a comfy subject, I saw no reason why it shouldn't be here. All the same, I hope my writing didn't upset or trigger anyone and that anyone disturbed by such things heeded the warnings I put at the beginning of the chapter. SO! On to talking about the rest of the chapter! Any room for doubt the kids may have had is no longer existent. How will what they've seen affect their behavior and actions moving forward? And Cassidy finally has at least some idea of what's happened to Ricky, but how will she react to the full picture? Much less when she sees it. Daisy Blake is a character I've been looking forward to playing with because we saw so little of her in SDMI and what we did see was extremely two-dimensional. Which is one of my favorite characters to write in fanfiction because it means I can do whatever interpretation of her I want, and who's to say I'm wrong? Not to mention Daphne's complicated relationship with her family in SDMI is an interesting dynamic to explore. Same goes for Daisy's dear fiance Steve, who for all intents and purposes doesn't actually exist in the canon of SDMI. All that is canonically known of "Daisy's fiance" is that he is rich and a neurosurgeon. That is it. He's basically an OC. I literally said to myself, "What is the first basic af white boy name I can think of? Steve. And what's the first sorta fancy and less-than-common surname I can think of? Poindexter." (As in Benjamin Poindexter, aka Bullseye, the Marvel villain.) And so it was. I got sidetracked into another project (look sometimes autism makes you spend three days on cross stitch, okay?) so I unfortunately haven't gotten more than a few paragraphs into chapter 26 of One of Us. So while I do hope to have it done by next Sunday as I hope, I also can't make any promises. But rest assured I do have a plan, and I intend to have it to you as soon as I can. And people... please go onto my ao3 and leave comments on my fic there once the chapter posted. Seeing the number go up on my inbox and getting to read your words means more to me than you know. Chapter 25 should be posted to ao3 tomorrow morning, and it definitely will be tomorrow afternoon.

Last thing: a while back I said I would be starting a tag list for One of Us, and unfortunately I forgot about it when I posted Chapter 24. So sorry about that. Here's to all my readers who either asked to be tagged when new chapters are posted, or liked that post. Cuz I can't tell if liking it was asking to be added to it or not and I wouldn't want to leave anybody out. If you want to be added to this list or want to be removed from it, then feel free to DM and let me know!

@void-lioness @nikicherry1234 @angorwhosebabyisthis @lunasummers04 @orithereticent @mysteryskullsblog @the-moogle-of-your-nightmares @sfcabanasstarcgs

Chapters 1-24 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!

[majestick-posts-op]

Recentely there has been a wide speculation on weather or not one of the Strawhats will die at the end of the final saga. Persona I'm a team Shanks-will-die-and-Oda-won't-emotionqlly-damaga-us-further but many people believe that either Usopp or a member of the monster trio will die.

So here I bring my own spin to the theory: no one dies, but Zoro, Sanji, Luffy and Usopp lose/sacrifice their limbs in some way.

Firstly: Zoro loses his other eye, and becomes fully blind.

This could have been foreshadowed by his having already lost one eye, and also his awful sense at direction because he can't see his way. But story wise, if he lost it before duellying Mihawk he will be the strongest swordsman in the world as a disabled person. This ties in with the themes of "strengh isn't defied by your body but your skill" in his backstory about Kuina. Plus the only other blind character in One Piece is a swordsman.

Next, Sanji loses his leg by carbonising it.

Sanji has many paralles with his father Zeff, from similar epithets, morals, same dreams and skills. So since Zeff livedup to his name as "redleg" by cutting off his leg in a gruesome and bloody manner, "blackleg" Sanji will burn his. He already sets his leg on fire in cannon with his powers, so maybe this will also get rid of his G€rma modifications and allow him to live as a human.

Most likely, Luffy loses one or both of his arms.

This is something I have seen a few people discuss. Of course, it would parallel Shanks. But you also have Luffy in Impel Down saying he doesn't care about losing both of his arms if it means saving who he loves and trying to rip them off in Whole Cake Island to save Sanji. Luffy does have a pretty long history of selfharm related sacrifice, this would line up with his character.

And finally, Usopp loses all fpur limbs and gets robotic enanchments.

This is definetly the most brutal one, but hear me out: Usopp honestly has so, so many parallels with Franky. From both being inventors, to being addandoned by a biological parent, having been outcasts as kids, having a pet frog, and similar themes of selfloathing/selfblaming. Post timeskip Franky is also a quadruple amputee. So Usopp may eventualy prove himself as a brave warrior of the sea by committing an action that will leave his body severely damaged, forcing him to amputate his limbs. Of course, Franky will make sure to give him the new body he deserves which will allow him to go on with his life.

[seoul-bros]

Six marvelous months with Park Jimin

January 2023

The year started with the announcement that Jimin had been appointed as the Global Brand Ambassador for Christian Dior (17/01). The occasion was marked with six Awesome magazine covers and the Dior Fashion Show in Paris (20/01). The fashion establishment was blown away by the response to Jimin's participation in the show.

The same month Jimin released Vibe (13/01) , a dream collaboration with his long time musical hero Taeyang from Big Bang.

This was both artists first solo hit on the Billboard Hot 100 at No. 76.

February 2023

Jimin did a live on 03/02 in which he confirmed that his solo music, although a little delayed, was likely to come out in March 2023.

On 21/02, Big Hit announced that FACE would be released on 24/03/23. The next day they published the countdown schedule and on the 23/02 the tracklist for the album.

March 2023

On 02/03, Jimin was named Ambassador for Tiffany & Co which he wore spectacularly in his photoshoot for Vogue that month.

On 06/03, Soundcloud super track Promise along with Jimin's yuletide gift to ARMY, Christmas Love were added to Jimin's Spotify profile. The era of streaming Jimin's profile had begun.

From then on, everything started speeding towards the release of FACE. The Hardware and Software images came out.

Set Me Free Pt 2 exploded into the world on 17/03. Nobody saw it coming and it caused a furore on social media. It was a clear statement of intent. I am here to stay and I am here to slay. It debuted at No.30 on the Billboard Hot 100.

FACE was released on 24/03 along with the Like Crazy MV. Speaking for myself Like Crazy blew me away. Jimin set out to make a statement with that song and I will always be proud to be the fan of such an honest and brave artist.

With the release of FACE we also discovered that hidden on the record was a very special song, Letter, in which Jungkook sings background vocals.

That last week of March saw Jimin appeared on the Jimmy Fallon Show with a live performance of Like Crazy.

In the next 9 days, he gave comeback performances on MCountdown, Music Bank and Inkiagayo. He came live to thank ARMY for turning up to his shows. He won awards. He appeared on the radio, on the entertainment shows Beat Coin, Ddeun Ddeun and Pixid. He even did fan meetings.

April 2023

On 01/04 Jimin gave an unforgettable acoustic rendition of Like Crazy live on Lee Mujin Service April Fools Edition.

And then on 03/04, Jimin made history. The first South Korean to ever make No.1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and the first Asian Artist to do so in 60 years. He came live in the early hours of the morning, clearly shellshocked but brimming over with gratitude to everyone who had supported the album and the song.

Then on 05/04 the promotions were over and Jimin once again expressed his happiness and thanks to ARMY for supporting FACE.

It had been a whirlwind and I think we, as well as Jimin, were caught off guard when the promotions ended so quickly. We had a beautiful album to savour but we wanted to continue to savour it with Jimin.

The focus returned to fashion when Jimin flew to New York at the end of April to attend the Tiffany & Co Landmark opening (28/04).

He attended Suga's concert in Newark on the 29/04 and headed back to South Korea later that week. But why didn't he fly straight back after the concert we wondered?

May 2023

It all soon became clear, he had been filming the MV for Angel Pt 1 from the Fast X movie. The song came out on the 19/05 and debuted at No. 65 on the Billboard Hot 100. This was Jimin's fourth chart entry in five months.

At the end of the month, Jimin made a short trip to London and we are still speculating on what that was all about. He posted photos of his trip to HP World as soon as he got back to South Korea on 27/05.

June 2023

Festa 2023 soaked Seoul in purple for nearly three weeks at the beginning of June in celebration of BTS's ten years since debut. Jimin gifted fans with a live performance of Dear.ARMY on 07/06 and....

,,,,,,on 13/06 BTS released this beautiful live version of Take Two with Jimin adding depth and colour to the song with his stunning vocals.

But there was still more to come, on 15/06 Jimin came live in high spirits and spent quality time with ARMY. It was the same day as the release of Angel Part 2.

On the 27/06 Jimin's solo profile appeared on Billboard and serves as a permanent reminder of everything that has happened in the short space of 6 months. It has been a roller coaster ride and I am still hopeful that we will still get more music from Jimin before he has to enlist. I wanted to make this post so that no one forgets what he has achieved and the permanent mark he has made on the global music industry since he took his first steps towards a solo career.

Post Date: 28/06/2023

[sgiandubh]

The sound of silence

With the end of August already in sight - somebody, please, tell me where did this botched summer go, all of a sudden? -, a somewhat different landscape is slowly emerging, on the S&C front.

Dare we hope? The new normal seems to be a mix of latergrams, sibylline tweets, ultra-muted innuendo (most of it the result of a couple of pundits' sterile speculations on meagre hints dropped on purpose) and secondary (even third-circle) players being conveniently called to the rescue. A low budget, almost homemade solution to keep the prayer wheels of this fandom spinning. A fandom both of these two know, by now, like the back of their hands.

For months and months in a row, I tried to understand something that puzzled me constantly: not the messages being ventilated in here, but their circuit and lifespan, if you want. For what is worth, the rinse and repeat image is fine in my book, but in no way comprehensive, nor intellectually satisfying. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I started to suddenly figure it out.

I am not going to insult you with savant jargon or Venn diagrams, rest assured. However, I need some arrows. I called it the 4 R Circuit and here we go:

(an information is being) Released (via Anons or DMs exclusively: it's never sheer luck, that is a bloody lie and a poor one, at it) -> (it then prompts a couple different) Reactions -> (followed by an almost immediate) Retcon (by the other side of this very antagonistic fandom) -> (in response, an old information is being) Recycled (thus effectively keeping the chatter alive, but re-oriented until ) -> (a new or old/new information is being) Released

Historically, the lifespan of this news cycle was never shorter than 24, but seldom (if ever) longer than 72 hours. This summer is a resolute break off this pattern, but old habits die hard: the collective attention span has been also conditioned accordingly.

And how could it be otherwise? Because neither of them had any consistent A-list level gossip history, the emerging fandom had to resume itself to their social media accounts, for a start. And boy, were we copiously spoiled, with banter and innuendo and double-entendre galore, and then with voluble Anons being simultaneously directed to the main players of all the factions. I bet it was elating. I am sure it was also great fun: a merry, sunny age of innocence. Until it wasn't and the ugly manipulative streak began its inglorious march in here. The thirst grew, and so did the stakes. Pictures, pictures or it did not happen. And when we got them, we started to immediately diss and hiss and hum and drum. In the Real World (you know, out there, where we all go every morning and are civilized, amiable people), this kind of behavior would be more than uncanny: it would be uncalled for and drastically sanctioned as such. But, I digress.

The result of this disco inferno by design is a pattern of reactivity I have never seen in my entire life. Nano-inquisitors immediately spring out of their chairs once you dare write something: why did you say that? how dare you speak your mind, you are supposed to be a stupid, stupid shipper? In the meantime, almost nobody bothers connecting the dots, finding a solid background for arguments, placing facts or speculation in a logical context. It's frowned upon. Yet, the whole experience would be way more enjoyable, if instead on focusing on idiotic and obviously doctored details, we could bring some perspective to all this hubbub.

Last case in point, this freshly baked imbecility:

We all know who the fuck Brave Heart is: the kilt obsessed, once Mightiest Troll of Mordor. The one who invented by herself the grotesque story of the Hôtel Costes Rash sightings, last April, via Anons written in painful English. Also, the one who spun, based on a friendly snap at a sportive event, the Ellenwood Innuendo, promptly ditched - it didn't stick well enough- now reactivated. A sample:

Calling all stations: there is no side exit at the Hôtel Costes' restaurant, you fool, who's been to Paris as often as I went to Oahu, which is to say never. There is a back exit, through the kitchen, madam: next time, do your damn homework properly! Unlike you, I often went there (I preferred other, less nouveau riche playgrounds, that being said), back in 1996-2002, when it still was the boldest celeb' spotting venue in town. Not anymore. And who in their right mind would bring luggage or shopping bags in a very peculiarly laid-out French restaurant, without immediately taking the risk of being a conversation stopper, a bull (heh) in a china shop?

The "have seen it with my own eyes" gave you away, this time. A classical, by the book way to spin a cheap lie.

Also, C's witty latergram, via a tertiary player. I am sure (and I will film myself eating my socks live, if proven wrong) that back in Mordor someone already came with the agit-prop retcon: "it's irrelevant when the picture was taken".

It is very relevant. July 31. One day before August 1st: I always admired her humor. But who would take the time to tell 1+1= 2?

If I could gift this fandom anything, let it be this: context is always important. Manipulation starts exactly when you stop questioning and let your brain live the 72 hours news cycle.

The only real sound of this August, on the S&C front, is the sound of silence.

I rest my case.