#eventually when i decide ill make a pinned post about plans but

[junosmindpalace]

i’m not as active as i used to be on here (i haven’t properly posted any writing pieces in over two months…sorry…) but i’d just like to wish everyone a happy new year!! 2024 has been wonderful to me and i hope it only continues to get better from here. thank you to anyone and everyone who has supported me whether this year or for some time, who has liked or reblogged or left comments in my inbox or tags; i promise they don’t go unnoticed and i appreciate them more than i can even properly articulate (leave comments under art you love!!) may 2025 bring you all the love and happiness and success in the world!!

[heylittleriotact]

🌹🌱🌼🥀💐🌺 pretty please!

Yesss LFG! Thank you for these! They made me think!

🌹: What's the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

The "At Your Age?" Argument wasn't their first fight - just the one that sucked the most because it was left unresolved for weeks.

Their first fight was actually brought about when Amina interjected during one of Emmrich's yapping sessions about lichdom and what a great honour it would be to join their ranks, and how amazing and special it would be to live forever, blah blah blah.

She basically asked if he could try talking about literally anything else for a change, because all of this talk of lichdom was getting tired, and maybe he's idealized this a bit much, and honestly she doesn't really care for it, so she'd rather not have to hear about it continuously in the first place.

Emmrich immediately went on the defense, and decided to explain (in the form of an academic lecture) why lichdom was perfectly ethical, and why Amina had no cause to distrust it, therefore she needn't be afraid.

Then she might have made a remark along the lines of, "I asked if we could change the subject - not for a condescending lecture on a subject I'm actually already very familiar with: I'm not one of your fucking students, Professor."

... and things escalated from there.

They avoided each other for the remainder of the day, but after dinner Emmrich answered a knock at his door to find a bouquet of freshly cut lilacs (out of season most places - where had she gotten them?) and a note inviting him to come find her in the Memorial Gardens if he wanted to talk it out.

And talk it out they did.

I actually plan on writing this whole encounter one day 😅

🌱Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

She's had a handful of relationships, usually with people also in the Watch. It's a path that tends to eat into one's ability to have a normal life with predictable time away from work, holidays etc. You work weird hours and do a lot of emotional labour, so finding a partner who isn't a Watcher who really understands all of that is challenging.

Her first partner was a childhood friend named Kalista, who joined the Watch with her but dropped out a few years into training. She was outgoing, friendly, and beautiful - tall with stormy blue-gray eyes and wavy brown hair.

She fell in a bit too hard with the party crowd and struggled more and more to keep up with her studies before eventually she just stopped showing up. Amina broke up with her because as much as it hurt, she felt that she needed to focus on her own future at the time. She and Kalista remained friends for many years, despite the end of their relationship, but things got worse for her friend when she started seeing someone new who seemed committed to making everything worse for Kalista instead of better. Amina hasn't heard from her in years. The last she spoke with Kalista, she had offered to help her pin down some resources to help her with her lyrium addiction and work through some other things. She suspects Kalista's current partner caught wind of that and forbid her from speaking with Amina again. Every morning she checks the sheet of overnight death calls posted in the Necropolis to make sure Kalista's name isn't on it.

🌼If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say?

Spicy leaves! Grave dirt. And splinters!

(Peppermint, literally grave dirt, and wood shavings from building coffins.)

🥀What figure from Rook's personal past would be added to the regret prison?

Kalista, for obvious reasons: Amina knows that she can't control other people's choices and actions, but she worries about her constantly and can't help but feel that she could have done more for her friend, or she still could if she wasn't too cowardly to involve herself.

Reda: the woman who took Amina in as a child and raised her. Reda fell ill just before Amina was soft-exiled from the Watch, and she died about six months before Veilguard. Amina left Varric abruptly, and was only just barely able to make it to her bedside in time to be with her when she passed. Amina regrets that because of her actions during the War of The Banners, she was unable to spend Reda's final days with her, taking care of her as she was cared for by the Necropolis matron when she was young. As the closest thing to a mother she ever had, she feels that she failed her.

💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

Amina has always gotten on well with Myrna and Vorgoth - she excelled in her studies when she was training, throwing herself into them with enthusiasm and an attitude that indicated that the scrappy foundling had something to prove, and over the years established herself as a reliable and skilled member of the Mourn Watch. It takes a very specific kind of person to be a Watcher, and an even more specific kind of person to be a Reaper, and her superiors would readily admit that Amina made for this lifestyle - it truly is her calling.

Because of this, the conversation in which they parted ways was painful for everyone: Amina felt betrayed and forced to let go of the only place that had ever felt like what she imagined home would feel like. It pained Myrna and Vorgoth to be the ones to deliver the news, but what they did not mention to Amina was that the two of them had personally argued for exile in favour of the alternative: Watchers who break their oaths and harm the undead (even if they fucking deserved it) forfeit their lives: Unbeknownst to her, she's got Myrna and Vorgoth to thank for the fact that her bones aren't waiting on one of the undead nobles whose toes she stepped on.

🌺Is there an object from Rook's childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food?)

Reda rarely went anywhere without a fashionable silk or chiffon scarf around her neck. Amina used to spend hours as a child, draping herself in the scarves and donning Reda's jewelry, strutting around the house to the delight of the woman, billowing and fluttering like a colourful sail. There's an entire crate of the scarves waiting for her at her apartment after Reda's passing. They're much too bright and extravagant for her tastes, but before she returned to Varric, she managed to find a relatively tame one dyed in reds and blacks and golds with stylized dragons picked out on it - she keeps it with her always. Even wears it from time to time. She figures if she ever gets blood on it, the colours should hide it well enough.

It smelled like Reda for the longest time, until one day it didn't anymore. That was a sad day.

[purplebehittindifferent]

FAQ!!!!

before asking, check this out!

How many comic series do you have?

TLDR: As of currently I have 3!

Reconnecting: my deltarune fan comic. It is completed and the masterpost can be found on my pinned.

SpiderVerse: this is completed… for now. I had more plans but they fell through as the friends I had planned to do them with, left. Link on pinned.

IEYTD: this is just little comics scattered about, masterpost in on my pinned :)

RULE5: coming soon!

(if you would like more masterposts send an ask <3)

Is there going to be more reconnecting??!

TLDR: kind of? vvv

There will be no more COMIC/DRAWN content related to reconnecting (at least no more than the occasional doodle.) but I do plan to keep writing fanfiction on Ao3 to continue the story as long as it will go.

Can I send prompts for fics or art?:

Of course! Just know I might not be able to do them all!

Vivi “enjoyers” can be a bit much… are you comfortable with the way they (we) act?

I’ve decided long ago that Vivi is welcome to any sort of reaction. You are welcome to draw her however you’d like etc etc. as long as you don’t force others to look at it if they would not like, I do not mind what you do for your own enjoyment. Enjoy!

18+ asks are not welcomed in the inbox

Your art is online and your AO3 is open! aren't you scared AI is going to steal it!?:

TLDR: my ao3 will remain open, my art will always be here vvv

I hate AI stealing creators' content as much as everyone else does. However, more so, I want anyone to be able to access real art. I have selected all of the available options to keep my works from being taken, and am very aware that the only way to keep my work safe on AO3 is to close it to guests. 

It took me, an avid fanfic reader, 4 years to get an Ao3 account. I care more about you guys being able to read what makes you happy and feeds your brain worms, than I care about my writing being stolen for this AI boom we are living in. It would tear me apart if you wanted to access my writing but had to wait so long for an account. 

I do not support AI in any form that replaces human beings, and though I know eventually I may never be able to have my work safe from AI on any platform, I will keep sharing it, and downright refuse to take it down. 

Taking all of my art down in fear of AI will be something I never do. In that way AI will kill me just as much as if it started stealing my work. Art is meant to be seen and shared. They will not take that from us.

I believe there is a group of people who like real artwork and writing made by real people. And I keep my trust in those people to see the value in non AI generated content. 

We will persevere.

Is fanart allowed?

TLDR: YES

SO MUCH YES. I BEG PLEASE PLEASE if you create fan content of my content or content inspired by my content, that is absolutely as long as I am either credited or @ on the post so I can see!!!

Where can I read RULE5?

TLDR: Rule5 isn't released yet!

Rule 5 is my original comic in progress, I have posted teaser art and some concept stuff. The hope is that it will start releasing weekly in early 2025. I am completing all the art first, so that it can have a consistent upload schedule and I can relax for a while. Trust me when I say- I will not shut up once it is available.

I want to make a comic but don't know where to start…

TLDR: DM me!!

My DMs are always open to genuine questions! I've actually spoken with many people who wanted to start their own series and have been told it's been helpful!

Though my biggest advice is GO FOR IT!!!!! The first couple updates might not gain a ton of traction right away, but persevere, keep going, and @ me so I can reblog it to help support you!!!

Are you LGBTQ+?

TLDR: nope :) cishet.

Many people have asked me this lol

Where can I find the masterposts and links to your other socials?

They are all on my pinned!!!

You have mental disorders + illnesses… What are they?

Respectfully it is none of your business. I try to spread awareness because I believe that is very important, but I also try to keep my personal things personal. If i'm ever outright about something, feel free to ask questions, and if i'm uncomfortable I will just say I do not wish to answer <3

How do I commission you?

There is a link on my Ko-Fi that goes to my comms!

 If you have any questions before ordering you can DM me anytime. Click the option you want, order it, and it will give you instructions from there. I check my orders once a day. If you set your order and I have not gotten back to you, please DM me it's possible I missed it.

Do you/will you draw NSFW and post it?

Not here.

Are you really in my walls?

Yep. I'm not kidding. That skittering you hear? It's me. Go hydrate yourself or I'll steal all your left shoes.

I found your work reposted without credit, should I tell you?

Yes please tell me!! I have not found any of my stuff randomly reposted without credit but I'm sure it will happen someday.

What art program do you use?

I use procreate! I highly recommend, as far as the brushes go, I use all of the base ones that come with the app itself. Nothing fancy.

Will you draw my OC?

If you commission me! sure!

if theres any more questions you think should be added here LMK

[visualnovelzombie]

Furry Visual Novel Book Club: Echo Week 12 SPOILERS

Hi everyone, here is the SPOILER discussion post for “Echo - Leo’s Saturday”

Links: Previous - Next - Original - Spoiler Free Version A - Version B

Feel free to respond in reblogs/replies/or asks :D

We begin this week with a decision. For the spoiler version I’ll be covering both versions as there’s only slight variants, and for the spoiler free version I will be splitting the two options into different posts. I recommend waiting until the end of the route before reading the other choice (or even just checking out the other version of the post!)

Ill be donating the changes as O1 and O2 for Option 1 and Option 2 IN this combined spoiler post:

Respect Leo’s Privacy:

Chase decides to talk to Leo about the text instead of going through his phone. 

Check His Phone:

Leo has a few texts from Chase at college that are pinned… Chase goes to more recent messages reading one where Leo is arguing with Flynn about the whole ‘thing’ being planned but doesn’t think to much of two bickering. The next conversation is from Carl, the Ram asking when they’re going to hang out. Leo said Chase was to busy… but that the wolf never asked him. Chase also sees that Leo planned the high school trip. Jenna is asking if Leo is avoiding her… The text with Tj has Leo outright lying to the lynx, that Chase was sad and didn’t want to hang out.

‘We’ll figure it out” starting to become a calling card to the route... a dark foreshadowing. Chase sees a spider

INSANE Chase/Sam Shipping

While it’s been ~fairly~ established that Chase sees spiders as manifestations of his guilt (in all it’s many forms!) I also like to think they’re Sam dropping in and saying ‘Hiiiiiiiiiiiii~~~~” from time to time too... Apart To Long and all of that...

Re-convergence:

Chase falls asleep and a nightmare sequence plays. He wakes up outside and reminiscences on the same feeling from when he was in boy scouts when he was younger. He then ‘realizes’ he’s ‘actually’ outside and starts to worry about HOW. Branches stab into him and Chase remembers the story about the man who failed to jump the train. Chase eventually discovers that he’s in the train-yard and is able to calm down a bit, being somewhere he at least knows. Something starts to shift around in the train car and Chase begins to back away. A large ‘thing’ lunges at Chase from the darkness and the otter runs away from the presence.

A monster crushes Chase, choking him until he wakes up gasping for air.

My personal interpretation of THIS monster (Which also makes a ‘dragging’ noise despite moving so fast!), is that this is Chase seeing some sort of manifested form of Brian’s aura/darkness. We know The Entity has a LOT tied up into the bear and its proclivities to choking line up. It’s lumbering and quick form are also ‘bear-like’ IMO. It resting in a train-car was reminiscent of Devon being tied up in a van too but I might be crazy... but if I’m not it’s certainly bear-like in that essence too, if I first thought of Dev..

Leo comforts him and asks what he dreamed about. Chase admits he can’t remembers. Leo goes to make Chase some tea and before falling asleep, Chase finds leaves and dirt in the bed near his feet...

Now this is definitely interesting. I have hypothesized that Chase ‘sees’ alternate timelines when he sleeps, or at least versions of them. (At least where ones mix with his guilt and fears). But manifesting something physical from it? We also learn that Leo is heavy sleepier, and the way Chase describes the town is reminiscent of how he describes the Red-World in Route 65 when he’s sleep walking towards the van... Maybe he did run out there and encounter some malignant force... Which needs the otter for later, who eventually returns to bed? Maybe he passes/pulls something from his dream?

/////////////////////// SLIGHT ARCHES FINAL BUILD SPOILERS ////////////////////////////

we see Cam more or less purposely and fully see other timelines. He’s MUCH more psychic though, and even Sam isn’t on that level. Maybe it’s a more advance form of that ability, being at the heart of the town while the Hysteria is starting and more supernatural things can occur other than full on hallucinations?

////////////////////// END SLIGHT ARCHES FINAL BUILD SPOILERS ///////////////////////

The next morning Chase reads over text from Leo, the wolf saying he’ll be back home in a bit from work.

O2: Chase wants to confront Leo...

Chases heads off to complete his project but notices that the town is eerily silent, electricity in the air. Chase then immediately forgets about his project and starts chatting with Kudzu, who was outside working on his lawn. The raccoon offers to show Chase an old pump to film and the two set off.

O2: During the exchange on the way to the pump, Chase calls into question Leo’s real motives for the trip.

Come Over begins to play as the two walk down the road together…

Kudzu reveals he works in Echo at the town hall and doesn’t travel to Payton regularly. This doesn’t seem consistent with what we see later from Kudzu, but is probably just a small writing mistake/continuity error.

Chase is extremely rude AND nosey and asks Kudzu about what happened in Payton. Kudzu asked why Chase even cares.

Kudzu reveals that a person he lived with was killed in a incident of gun violence... A half awkward moment later and the two arrive at the pump. Chase films while Kudzu fills the piss quota for the route by pissing into some nearby bushes. The camera’s battery is low and Kudzu runs to fetch a spare while Chase continues to film. Chase hears light gagging and follows the sound through the brush, stumbling into a trailer nestled into the trees and a clearing. 

Chase thinks he sees a dead body hanging from a tree, his first instinct to film it. After gathering his senses he stops and notices that it’s Clint, the ring-tail being hung from the tree, feet slightly off the ground. Clint tries to warn Chase away.

A large and naked bear appears from the clearing, Clint going quite at his arrival. He immediately notices Chase. The bear has a high-pitched voice, his intentions clearly BDSM related. Chase begins to back up as the bear slowly approaches. Upon reaching the end of the clearing Chase looks back at Clint has a brief flashback to when he was young, catching the ring-tail huffing something from rag. Chase makes it back to the pump where Kudzu waits, the otter hurrying the two away from the clearing.

Chase relays the information to Kudzu, who realizes that the bear is probably the town’s local meth dealer, Brian. Chase assumes that Clint is trading sexual favors for drugs and feels bad for Clint…

The pair arrive at the school to film, Duke watching them from a distance for a while. Leo texts Chase to meet him at the diner and Kudzu and Chase part ways, just as Chase’s phone dies.

O1: Chase thinks about having a friend like kudzu once he moves back with leo.

O2.: Chase wonders if he should bring up the THING now… if he can even trust Leo again.

Chase makes it to the diner before Leo and does some introspection about the trip.

Chase is starting to see through the fog a bit... to see what’s been happening and whose he’s been abandoning all over again. Doing the same things that led him to breakup with Leo so messily...

O2: Chase wonders if he got what he really wanted...

INSERT MORE INSANE CHASE/SAM SHIPPING

One of the few times Chase thinks about Sydney... he doesn’t seem TO sad about it though. Maybe a commentary, about this hopefully being of the town’s last (non Brian related) atrocities that spark a hysteria...

Before Chase can think two much on the circumstance, Leo barges into the diner.

Here the two options split so I’ll cover one then the other in sequence:

O1:

Neutral plays as Leo appears on the scene. The two partake in PDA, questioning why no one is in the diner.

I take all the analysis of this man I’ve ever done in my life back. If he licked me on MY otter nose he could actually do anything he wanted to me. 

Leo reveals that Duke accosted him on the way into town, claiming that Chase and Leo are to blame for the problems happening Janice stumbles into the room.

O2:

Quiet begins to play. Chase confronts Leo, the wolf clearly nervous. Chase admits he looked at his phone, the wolf becoming defense, realizing what Chase saw. Leo appears to have a small breakdown, refusing to engage the conversation. When Leo realizes him being sad wont wash things over he becomes angry with Chase.

Leo excuses his behavior due to Chase’s actions three years ago. Leo screams, Chase used to the ‘tantrums’.

Right before they can do anything but yell at each other, Janice stumbles into the room.

Re convergence:

The coyote is haggard and disheveled, something clearly wrong with her.

O1: Chase makes mention of the chef, Dale

/

O2: Janice asks about the yelling as Neutral begins to play.

The pair try head out but Janice insists they stay.

O1. Chase acknowledges he’s been spending to much time with Leo to pay attention to the town.

O2: Chase is upset that he hadn’t noticed the town getting crazier and a crazier, afraid that Leo was going to let him move back in when it was getting worse

The two see Tj jogging in the town before Janice returns.

Goodbye Julian you funky little white-boy you... whose name I had to look up for this...

Chase realizes something is very wrong with TJ and goes to help… just as Duke pull up to the diner. Janice intercepts the weasel, seemingly ignoring the gun as they bicker.

A smallest tease to TSR, which may have been in planning stages around the time this was written. A real good nod to the prequel game, even if it wasn’t fully fleshed out yet. I’d also like to point out ~here~ that Duke mentions that the town did in fact kill someone in a response to Jack’s death, which (presumably) according to his grandfather Cliff, didn’t stop the hysteria. While it’s definitely something that doesn’t ‘fit’ due to things being still in development, and Sam being very much ran over by Chip and Janice, the person killed for Jack’s murder is now called into question. Maybe they’ll ‘back fill’ this in by giving Murdoch the axe in some self-sacrifice timeline, which would cover him not existing at the time of the Echo’s writing.

Duke drops Janice, shooting her several times. Leo covering Chase with his body trying to protect him. Duke orders Leo away from Chase as he tells the pair what he’s after. Brian walks in and zip-ties Leo’s hands together under Duke’s command. Just as Duke gives Chase a commander, he shoots at the ceiling. 

While Brian and Duke are distracted by a fucking Onryo of Duke’s wife Chase is met with a decision…

-----------------------------------------------------

And this is where we end for the week… as things calm down from me pouring out my heart over small character interactions and more complicated setups due to the spoiler/non spoiler nature, we’ll be picking up the pace til the end of the route! This choice is ‘unimportant’ so I’ll be sure to cover both. 

Reminder that the next choice after that is a small game-over like in Carl’s Route, so be sure to save your game by going back one line once you get there (I’ll cover both options!)

We’ll be reading till the line “Leo: He told me you were down here. Come on.”

It’s a HEFTY chunk, about the size of the last part of Carl’s route. But it’ll help finish this route in two weeks instead of three, and also cuts better with the rise and fall of tension we’re gonna have going on…

Until next week everyone ~

[captainlevisteacup]

Oooh, an idea has struck. The brothers reacting to Dom Male!MC reuniting with his childhood bestfriend in the Devildom, only their bestfriend is now a high ranking/powerful incubus who has a fuck ton of influence & money. (Not nearly as powerful as any of the brothers or Diavolo, of course, but you get the point)

And while normally a simple childhood friend wouldn’t be enough to bother the brothers, DM!MC’s Femboy CH!Bestfriend is the optimum of gorgeous, with a lithe & toned body and an “innocent” charm to him.

Spoiler Alert, CH!Bestfriend has been in love with DM!MC since they were kids (though it was just puppy love back then) and is determined to never let him get away from him again, resulting in him being extra clingy and needy.

Another Spoiler Alert, DM!MC’s childhood bestfriend may or may not be a mix of a “Worship” & “Self Sacrifice” Yandere.. (Look up “The Dere Types Wiki” if your confused)

You have some very interesting ideas😂 im so sorry this took so long, I didn't want to post it until I was back up to my full working capacity after getting injured and after breaking up with someone😁

Anyways, without further ado, here ya go😘

The Brother's Reactions to M! MC'S Yandere Childhood Incubus! Friend

Warnings: Violence, Language, Blood, VERY SLIGHT sexual themes, some non-consentual touching in Levi's section, brief mention of drugging in Beel's

Lucifer

At first, didn't think twice of MC having a childhood friend

But when he heard the word incubus

He got the smile on his face

You know the one

Lucifer "innocently" is around whenever the incubus is around

Its starts off small

Little poisoned glances from the incubus here and there

But eventually it escalated and turned into him putting a possessive arm around MC's waist

Lucifer snapped

The second the Incubus was alone, Lucifer followed him down an alley

Slammed that fucker against the wall and held him there by the throat

The incubus started laughing, even when Lucifer tightened his grip

"You'll never get rid of me. I have connections to everyone, Fallen Angel. I've loved him since before you even knew he existed, and a prissy peacock like you isnt gonna stop me from making him mine, even if I have to drug and kidnap him"

Lucifer only smiled and released him

The incubus smirked, daintily dusting off his lithe figure

Thinking he won, he shouldered his way past Lucifer

Only to stop short in horror

Deep growls greeted him

Lucifer didn't even bother hiding the screams of the incubus as Cerberus ripped into him

After a while, he signaled Cerberus to stop

As the incubus lies on the ground whimpering, Lucifer calmly says:

"Now that I've shown you just what I'm willing to do to protect MC, I'll make you a deal. MC cares about you, as a FRIEND. But his heart belongs to me and me alone, and mine belongs to him. If you can understand and respect that, I'll allow you near him. But one wrong word, one wrong placement of a hand, and I won't hesitate to finish you off myself. And believe me," he says with a dark chuckle "I won't be as gentle as Cerberus."

Mammon

This man immediately is on high alert

Someone trying to take what's HIS?

The incubus makes him more greedy than ever

Decides not to leave MC's side for a second

Even when he's sleeping

When Mammon can't help the incu-bitch (his nickname for the childhood friend) being around, he acts sort of like a child, which makes him look like a dick in comparison to the incubus's calm and innocent facade

Mammon tries to tell MC there's something up, but he just chalks it up to Mammon being Mammon

One day, MC randomly receives news from the human world that his mother contracted something contagious and was placed in ICU

The incu-bitch was, of course, right there when MC started tearing up, letting him cry into his shoulder

Mammon sees this and starts to protest

This leads MC to snap and tell Mammon he's being a child

Mammon leaves them be and thinks hard

Comes to the conclusion that maybe MC is right, and he begrudgingly decides to apologize to the incubus

As he approaches him, Mammon catches a glimpse of the Incubus's *expensive* phone

Unable to resist, he throws a coin against the wall in the opposite direction.

When he turns to look at the noise, Mammon snatches the phone and yeets off to his room

When he gets there, he opens the phone- no lock- and is startled by what he sees

A fake texting app, along with the messages telling MC his mother was sick

Mammon was about to run to find MC, when he heard a slight chuckle

Looking up, he saw the incubus...holding a knife

"You just couldn't stay away, could you? You've been a pain in the ass ever since I got here. But no matter, once MC sees how *cruel* you are to his defenseless childhood friend, he'll want nothing to do with you. And he'll be mine to fuck and own as I please."

Mammon gritted his teeth and ground out "Making MC think his mother was gravely ill just to get close to him when he's vulnerable? You're disgusting. I actually care about MC, and I respect them more than you ever will."

The incubus snorted, and raised the knife.

"Oi! What do ya think you're doing with that?" Mammon yelled

He raised the knife....and slashed it across his own arm

He then threw the knife towards Mammon, threw himself to the ground, and yelled out in pain

Suddenly, MC burst into the room

Mammon sputtered out a panicked explanation, but MC cut him off with a stare

He kneeled down next to his friend, who reached up with a bloody hand to cup MC'S face

MC put his hand over the incubus's....and sharply bent it backwards

He leaned down and whispered into his ear: "I heard everything, you little shit. Now, get the FUCK out of my house and away from my boyfriend, and don't even THINK of defiling my life with your presence ever again"

After he left, Mammon cautiously said "boyfriend, huh..?"

"Shut up mammon"

Levi

Oh, this won't do

Immediately feels threatened and triggered

He is the avatar of Envy, after all

His response?

Prove to MC nobody can know him as well as he can

He does this every single time the incubus is near

"MC, I got you your favorite drink!"

"MC, I ordered you some food. Don't worry, I already know what you like"

Flinches whenever the incu-bitch touches MC. It literally makes him cringe

His suspicions are confirmed when the incubus shoots Levi a malicious glance next time he touches MC

Levi snaps

Challenges the incubus to a video game duel

He surprisingly accepts

He cheats like hell and beats Levi

Levi goes into his demon form and rages

But MC thinks he's just being a sore loser

He tells Levi to back off and to go cool down

Once Levi storms off, the incu-bitch thanks MC for standing up for him

Then, he promptly tries to make a move on MC

He reaches out a hand to unbutton MC'S shirt

MC slaps his hand away, but not before noticing writing on the Incubus's hand

Before he can pull away, MC snatches his hand and sees cheat codes written on them

Gets super upset and tries to get up to apologize to Levi

The incubus pulls him back down by his wrist and pins them to the couch

"MC, don't you realize? You're all I want, all I need. I WORSHIP you, MC. And you're going to be mine. Nobody else can have you. And you're going to love me, whether you realize it right now or not. You'll learn with time to need me just as desperately as I need you"

Starts to take off MC'S clothes in spite of their fighting and protests, the incubus shushing him

"Shhhh, I know you don't see it, but this will make you see."

Levi slams open the door, tail lashing and face white with rage

"Get your normie hands the fuck off of my human. Now."

The incubus nopes the fuck out. He may be a high ranking incubus, but he still isn't as strong as one of the seven demon brothers.

Levi holds MC tightly as they fumble over an apology

"Shhh MC, its okay. I'm here now. Let's watch some anime and calm down together, yea?"

Satan

Do I even have to explain this one?

Is hostile as soon as MC even MENTIONS a childhood male friend, let alone an INCUBUS

Honestly, the Incubus is a bit scared of Satan

But, he decides he wants MC more than he fears Satan

So, he swallows his fear and patronizes Satan in tiny, unremarkable ways

Ways that would only be noticed by Satan

A stray hand here and there that lingers a LITTLE too long

Wiping a crumb from MC'S lips during a meal

Tucking a stray hair behind MC'S ear

Every last one of these actions makes his blood boil

It gets so bad that Satan is just in a perpetual state of rage, never leaving his demon form

Satan starts passive aggressively insulting the incubus's intelligence

"Oh, you mean you don't know how disestablishmentarianism impacted the overall congruence of Midwest society? Thats odd, its fairly simple. Practically common sense."

Is shocked when MC got livid at him, because he was being condescending for seemingly no reason

Starts to get angry at MC

"Can't you see? He's trying to turn you against me. Just LISTEN, DAMNIT!" He says as he grabs MC'S shoulders

The incubus barges in and shoves Satan away from MC

"Are you ok, MC? Did he hurt you?"

The amount of white hot rage in the room was tangible

He can't do it anymore

Slams the incubus against the wall

Knocks him to the ground

But when he falls down

A bunch of photos fall out of his jacket

Not normal photos

Horrifying ones

One of MC while he showers

One of MC sleeping

One of MC changing

Even one of MC and Satan having a steamy moment

MC goes still...and then SLAPS the shit out of the incubus.

He wordlessly turns to Satan, eyes pleading

"It would be my pleasure, MC" *evil grin*

Cue Satan dragging the incubus off by his hair

Asmo

P A S S I V E A G R E S S I V E

He sees this lovely incubus with NEARLY perfect hair, a lithe and toned body, and a seemingly innocent attitude, and he just wants him gone

He's been with plenty of Incubi, so he knows what they're like

Because of this, he doesn't want this one anywhere NEAR his darling MC

Comes up with a plan to use all his fashion design connections to outdress the incubus

He knows they're vain by nature, so he comes to the conclusion that this is the best course of action

But there's a problem

"Is that a statement piece from Priya Lacroix? She hasn't even released her collection yet"

Asmo.exe is not responding

He knows that HE is the only one Priya would ever give an early release to

So why does THE INCUBUS have her statement piece?

And WHERE is his phone?

Complains to MC, but MC doesn't take him seriously because he's too busy catching up with his friend

Asmo gets jealous and storms off to do a stress relieving skin routine

As MC and the incubus hang out, the incubus's phone goes off

Only...the ringtone is sinful indulgence

Mammon storms into the room

"AHA! I FOUND YA ASMO, YOU ANNOYING LITTLE- huh?"

"I/N? Why do you have Asmo's phone?"

"MC, you have to understand, I just want you to realize I'm the only right one for you. You NEED to realize you can't be with anyone else. Because you're mine, MC. You always have been."

Screeching could be heard in the distance, then footsteps quickly getting closer and closer

"THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY" Asmo yells as he slams open the door

"As if MC would choose a crusty, obsessive, STEALING, lying, probably STD having Incubus like you over me! Now give me my phone back and get out of here. And while you're at it, take off that Priya piece. There's a reason I'm the only one allowed early access."

Beel

Honestly doesn't think that much of it at first

He thinks its nice MC reunited with one of his childhood friends, and an Incubus at that

But when he meets the friend, something just feels off

He gets a weird sensation, and its not hunger

Its like his senses are on red alert

The incubus was nice enough to Beel, seemingly charming and genuine

But Beel couldn't help but feel rubbed the wrong way, with a sensation similar to seaweed against legs in the ocean

He doesn't want to mention this to MC, because he's convinced he's just overreacting

He feels a little sad that MC is too busy for him, but he does his best to give them time together

One night, he had made some food in the kitchen and decided to bring MC and I/N some

When he neared the door, he almost dropped the plate

He heard a loud thud, and MC saying "Hey, I said no, okay?"

He gently opened the door and looked at MC, who immediately forced a smile to his face

"Hey MC, I brought you guys some food. Is everything ok?"

"Thanks Beel, that's sweet of you. Everything's fine, I promise"

Beel relaxed a bit, although he still knew something was off.

The incubus excused himself to use the restroom, encouraging MC to eat without him

Beel and MC sat down, and Beel scarfed down his portion

Chuckling, MC offered his plate to Beel, who gladly accepted

The incubus opened the door shortly after with an expectant look on his face, as well as rope and a gag in his hands

Upon laying eyes on MC, a shocked expression came onto his face as his eyes darted between MC and the empty plate

"How are you still conscious?" He blurted

Confusion flashed across MC'S face. "What do you mean, I/N?"

"You drugged it, didn't you?" Beel spoke up.

"I thought it tasted odd," Beel continued "but I never would have guessed you would actually drug MC. I'm guessing you couldn't handle that MC rejected your advances, so you drugged the food while MC was distracted talking to me. Am I right?"

The incubus chuckled. "Guess I was wrong about you. You are more of a threat than you seem. Heh, I guess you're not just a talking stomach after all."

A loud smack could be heard shortly thereafter.

But the devastating blow didn't come from Beel

It came from an enraged MC

"Trying to drug me I could keep my cool over. If thats all you did I would have just told you to stay the hell away from me. But the SECOND you spoke to Beel like that, you signed your own death warrant."

Before he could react, MC summoned the brothers one by one, Beel explaining the situation.

"Well, MC, perfect timing as always. I was just beginning to get bored" Satan drawled

*screams*

Belphie

It takes a yandere to know one

Belphie doesn't want to alarm MC though, so he decides to outmaneuver the incubus without him noticing

It starts small, with I/N reaching out to put an arm over MC'S shoulder, and Belphie's arm already being there

Eventually, they start glaring daggers at each other the second MC looks away

After a while, Belphie decides to up the ante

Religiously falls asleep on MC when I/N is trying to spend time with him

Goads the incubus so much that he corners Belphie when he snaps and can't take any more

"Listen, I know exactly what you're doing. But if you think that YOU can take him away from me, you're sorely mistaken. MC is mine whether he likes it or not. And if it turns out to be the latter, well, let's just say he won't have much of a choice in the matter, nor will you have any control over it. Got that?"

Belphie does the one thing he knows will get the outcome he had painstakingly built up to the past couple weeks: he laughs

"Ah, you have a good sense of humor, know that? Funny stuff. All kidding aside, MC already belongs to me. So your child's play isn't gonna cut it. Got THAT?"

With a choked cry of fury, the incubus pulls out a knife and stabs Belphie

Belphie, having planned this, falls to the floor just as the door opens to reveal a shocked MC.

"BELPHIE! Shit, please be okay! What the FUCK is wrong with you, I/N?"

The stunned Incubus could only stammer out a couple words

"I- he...was gonna...tried to take what was mine. Tried to take you..."

MC laughed bitterly and shoved him to the floor.

"I don't know what sick world you're living in, but I belong to Belphie. I love him. And I hate YOU. Now I'll leave you be so you can deal with THAT. Ta ta." He says as he scoops up Belphie and heads out the door

"Deal with what?" I/N nervously asks after him, backing up warily

The incubus stops when his back hits something hard.

Gulping, he looks up...

"Hello, I/N, I'm Beel."

"Nice to...meet you? I imagine you're one of the brothers?" He replies shakily

Beel smiles. The light doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, I'm one of the brothers. You see, I'm Belphie's twin."

Across the house, Belphie smiles at the faint screams, MC curled up next to him after patching him up.

He succeeded in protecting what was his. He deserves a good nap. Holding MC tighter, he goes back to sleep.

[kerysene-june]

I wrote a quick drabble maybe a week ago, planning on writing some more, eventually. I ain't feeling it, so might as well post it. It ends pretty abruptly, but who knows, maybe one day Ill finish it /shrug.

In the Park

(Under the cut)

Marcy jumped as her phone buzzed twice against her chest, temporarily quieting her blaring music. She let out a sight as she missed the double jump - again - and fell into the same pit of spikes that had claimed her the last three times. 

    So close yet so fricking far, she grumbled to herself as she threw the console to her side. Onto a pillow, of course. Couldn’t risk breaking it. I’m gonna finish that level one way or another. 

    She grabbed her phone. On the screen was a message from Sasha. She quickly typed in her pin - 0286 (The date her favorite game ever was released.)

    Hey, my mom’s gonna be home soon and Anne’s at tennis. Lets hang ;P.

    It didn’t take a genius to read inbetween the lines. It wasn’t a question as much as a begging. 

Sure. I haven’t been out of bed all day anyhow. Wanna meet up at the park on fifth? We can meet up with Anne after ahe done with practice

Marcy didn’t blame Sasha for wanting to avoid her mother. Marcy only met the women once or twice, and she... left something to be desired, to say the least. She wasn’t a bad woman, at least, marcy hadn't spent enough time with her to form that judgement, but she certainly wasn’t cut out to be a mother.

Sure! meet ya there, marbles :3

Marcy groaned as she threw herself out of bed, quickly putting on a pair of pants and her jacket. She stuffed her Creatures & Caverns core rulebook and monster manual, Switch, and portable charger in her bag before grabbing her favourite bobby pin and sticking it in her hair. She carefully made her way through the piles of books and papers on her floor before opening her door.

“Hey, mā, Sash wanted to hang out a bit before her mom gets home, that OK?” Marcy yelled down the hall.

“Just be home before dinner! Oh, and bring xiăo làjiāo a snack, OK?” Her mother said back, quite a bit quieter than Marcy.

“Hăo, māmā! Be back in a bit!” Marcy yelled as she ran down the stairs, grabbing a banana and a soda from the fridge before running out the door - nearly slipping on nothing,

Marcy plugged her headphones into her phone, starting a playlist as she began walking down the street. The late summer sun was setting behind the cityscape, casting the sky in deep reds and purples, a few lavender clouds clinging to the edges of the horizon. She walked in beat with her music, down her road. She was still thinking about that video game level, going over it again and again in her head. She barely noticed the houses passing by as she walked further and further. She and Sash - and Anne when she didn’t have practice - often hung out in the park, for as long as Marcy could remember. It was actually where she had first met Sasha, way back in kindergarten. She stood up to two middle schoolers who kicked her and Anne off the swings, which Marcy always thought was weird. What kind of middle schoolers would bully kindergartens? They were barely 6 at the time. That’d be like a 24 year old bullying a 12 year old. She paused. Well, on the internet, anything’s possible. It’s like a 24 year old bullying a twelve year old in real life.

Marcy stopped at the crosswalk, pressing the button. She watched as the little red hand across the street wave at her, and she couldn't help but smile and wave back. That jump had to be frame perfect though, it just had to be. There was no other way you could make it. She knew that you were supposed to fall there, to prevent you from going that direction until you got an upgrade. She also knew that it was possible, she’s seen other people do it. It just was hard. Super, super, super hard.

The waving hand turned to the green man as she began to walk across the road, making sure to wave at each of the driver’s she passed by. Everyone made the jump look so easy, it was infuriating to her. She turned onto the final stretch of road, the sign of the park in view. She stood up straight, trying to see where Sasha was, when she caught the signature denim jacket over by the tennis courts.

She doesn’t know what came over her at that moment, but whatever it was, it caused her to grab the bars of the fence and heave herself up. She braced her foot against the bars and thrusted her body upwards, grabbing the top of the fence. She struggled for a moment, barely managing to throw one leg over the top. It was luckily a flat top, because she probably wouldn't have had the strength to keep herself from touching it. With another heave, she threw her other leg over the top, so she was sitting on it. She quickly took off her backpack and gently threw it to the ground. Well, as gently as one could throw something to the ground. She grinned to herself, as she, in one final moment of hubris, decided to jump off the top of the fence instead of climbing back down. If only they were looking at ol’ klutzy Marcy now! Anne wou-

“Mar-Mar! What are you doing?” A familiar voice drifted across the park, causing Marcy to second guess herself at the last second, and with a yelp and a tumble, Marcy fell off the fence, twirling in the air before landing with a sudden and rough thump! Pain wracked through her body as she felt something in her shoulder go Pop! and a burning sensation shot down her arm. Her breath was knocked right out of her lungs. Through her somewhat dampened hearing, she heard a barrage of foot falls as two familiar heads popped into her view.

“Marcy! Are you okay?!” Anne nearly shouted, kneeling down at her side.

“What were you doing up there, Marbles?” Sasha said as she reached into her back, fishing out a case with a red “+” on it.

Marcy chuckled, somewhat ironically and then winced from the pain. “Wha- What makes you think I know? All I know was I was gonna land till one of you two called me out on how stupid that was.” She grinned as she looked up at her friends, only getting two concerned looks back. “Aw, come on you two. This isn’t the most stupid thing I’ve done, not by a long shot! Remember the rope-”

“Oh, Jesus, Marce! Don’t bring up the rope! Your arm-” Sasha mimicked gagging as she took out a toilette from the case and started wiping at some of Marcy’s cuts. Marcy grimicade at the burning of the alcohol on the fresh wounds.

“Practice already over, Anna-banana?”

“Yeah, Coach took a tennis ball straight to her good eye - at no fault of her own - so she let us all go earlier.”

“Yeah, it was wicked,” Sasha laughed. “That thing was going at least mach 4”

Anne rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless.

“Well, by your grinning, I’ll take it she was okay,” Marcy smiled. “. wants me back before dinner, by the way.” She groaned as Sasha and Anne pulled her to her feet. The three of them began to walk over to the table Sasha was sitting at prior, Anne and Marcy sitting on one side, Sasha on the other.

“Oh, Sash! Have you eaten today? Māmā wanted me to bring you a snack. You know how she is." Marcy said, digging the banana and soda out of her bag.

Ye, that's all. Lost all motivation to finish it, so

Idk, I haven't gone through and revised it, either, so don't judge too harshly lol

[vavuska]

Bob's Burgers, Season 11, Episode 7, Diarrhea of a Poopy Kid

When Gene can't eat Thanksgiving dinner because of a stomach flu, the family tries to make him hate food, by telling him horror stories about food: in both Tina's — a parody of Harrison Ford's Air Force One (1997) — and Bob's —a parody of Michael Bay's Armageddon (1998) — stories, Gene insists that his wife be played by Linda. The others find it questionable, while Linda finds it sweet.

Bob's Burgers, Season 9, Episode 14, Every Which Way but Goose

Oedipus Mythology

Laius, king of Thebes, was warned by an oracle that his son would slay him. So, Laius started avoiding physical contacts with his wife, Jocasta. Unfortunately, a night, while he was strongly drunk, ended up sleeping with her, getting Jocasta pregnant. So, when Jocasta, bore a son, Laius had the baby exposed (a form of infanticide) on Cithaeron. (Tradition has it that the name Oedipus, which means “Swollen-Foot,” was a result of his feet having been pinned together, but modern scholars are skeptical of that etymology.) A shepherd took pity on the infant and decided to rescue him and gave little Oedipus to the royal couple that didn't have child of their own. So, Oedipus was adopted by King Polybus of Corinth and his wife and was brought up as their son. In early manhood Oedipus visited Delphi and upon learning that he was fated to kill his father and marry his mother. Horrified by this reveal, Oedipus, who didn't know to have been adopted, he decided to never return to Corinth.

A depiction of Oedipus and the sphinx, taken from an Attic kylix produced by an artist known to modern scholars as ‘Painter of Oedipus’. Gregorian Etruscan Museum, Vatican City, Rome. 470 B. C.

Traveling toward Thebes, the young man encountered Laius, who provoked a quarrel in which Oedipus killed him. Continuing on his way, Oedipus found Thebes plagued by the Sphinx, who put a riddle to all passersby and destroyed those who could not answer. Oedipus solved the riddle, and the Sphinx killed herself. In reward, he received the throne of Thebes and the hand of the widowed queen, his mother, Jocasta. They had four children: Eteocles, Polyneices, Antigone, and Ismene. Later, when the truth became known, Jocasta committed suicide, and Oedipus (according to another version), after blinding himself, went into exile, accompanied by Antigone and Ismene, leaving his brother-in-law/uncle Creon as regent. Oedipus died at Colonus near Athens, where he was swallowed into the earth and became a guardian hero of the land.

Charles Francois Jalabert, Oedipus and Antigone (1843)

Antoni Brodowski, Oedipus and Antigone (1823)

Oedipus' children and his uncle/brother-in-law have a tragic mythological story of their own: Antigone and Ismene, after the death of their unfortunate father, returned to Thebes, where they attempted to reconcile their quarreling brothers—Eteocles, who was defending the city and his crown, and Polyneices, who was attacking Thebes. In fact, Eteocles and Polynices were twins and they made a pact in which they would govern on Thebes togheter in alternate years, but at the end of his first year of government, King Eteocles decided to not pass the crown to his brother, breaking their pact. So, Polynices with his loyal followers and allies decided to attack Thebes to obtain the crown for himself. Both brothers, however, were killed, and their uncle Creon became king. After performing an elaborate funeral service for Eteocles, Creon forbade the removal of the corpse of Polyneices, condemning it to lie unburied, declaring him to have been a traitor. Antigone, moved by love for her brother and convinced of the injustice of the command, buried Polyneices secretly. For that she was ordered by Creon to be executed and was immured in a cave, where she hanged herself. Her beloved, Haemon, son of Creon, committed suicide.

Antigone with Polynices' Body, painting by Sebastien Norblin, 1825 CE, Paris, Ecole Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts.

Oedipus in art: X

Oedipus complex

in classical psychoanalytic theory, the erotic feelings of the son toward the mother, accompanied by rivalry and hostility toward the father, during the phallic stage of psychosexual development. Sigmund Freud derived the name from the Greek myth in which Oedipus unknowingly killed his father and married his mother. Freud saw the Oedipus complex as the basis for neurosis when it is not adequately resolved by the boy’s fear of castration and gradual identification with the father. The corresponding relationship involving the erotic feelings of the daughter toward the father, and rivalry toward the mother, is referred to as the female Oedipus complex, which is posited to be resolved by the threat of losing the mother’s love and by finding fulfillment in the feminine role. Although Freud held the Oedipus complex to be universal, most anthropologists question this universality because there are many cultures in which it does not appear. Contemporary psychoanalytic thought has decentralized the importance of the Oedipus complex and has largely modified the classical theory by emphasizing the earlier, primal relationship between child and mother.

Here the link to a post of mine in which I analyze the relationship between Freud and his parents:

Electra complex

Electra complex is the female equivalent of the Oedipus complex. Carl Jung introduced this concept in his Theory of Psychoanalysis in 1913; however, Freud did not accept this theory as he believed that Oedipus complex applies to both boys and girls although they experience it differently.

What happens in the Electra complex is that girls become unconsciously attracted to their father and develop hostile feelings towards mothers, seeing them as their rivals. Penis envy is an element in female psychosexual development, where the daughter blames the mother for depriving her of a penis. Eventually, this resentment leads the girl to identify with and emulate the mother, incorporating many of the mother’s characteristics into her ego.

Electra Myth

Electra was the daughter of King Agamemnon and Queen Clytemnestra of Mycenae. She was the sister of Iphigenia (who Agamemnon sacrificed to Neptune to have a good sail to Troy) and as well as Orestes, with whom they planned the murder of their mother and her lover Aegisthus, seeking revenge for the murder of their father. Agamemnon was the brother of Menelaus, who was king of Sparta and married with Helen (the woman fallen in love with Prince Paris of Troy and "kidnapped" by him) and Clytemnestra was Helen's sister.

When Agamemnon returned from the Trojan War along with his slave-lover Cassandra (was a fromer priestess of Apollus, cursed by Apollus himself to tell future and not be believed for refusing his love attentions, and also the sister of Paris), he was murdered by his wife and her lover, Aegisthus, who was also his cousin. Aegisthus had a rotten past of being born by an incestuous rape and in a family history of adultery, murders and revenge: Thyestes, Aegisthus' father, and Atreus, father of Menelaus and Agamemnon, were brothers and they were exiled by their father for killing their own half-brother to rule over Olympia. They moved to Mycenae and started fighting for the throne. Thyestes was the lover of Atreus' wife and Atreus for revenge murdered all Thyestes' sons and severed their flesh to their unwilling father as meal. Horrified by have eaten his own children, Atreus plotted his revenge and asked for help to an oracle, that told him that his revenger would be born from the rape of his own daughter, Pelopia. However, when Aegisthus was first born, he was abandoned by Pelopia, ashamed of the origin of her son. A shepherd found the infant Aegisthus and gave him to Atreus, who raised him as his own son. Only as he entered adulthood did Thyestes reveal the truth to Aegisthus, that he was both father and grandfather to the boy and that Atreus was his uncle. Aegisthus then killed Atreus, accused of murdering his brothers/uncles and forcing Thyestes to rape his own daughter. While Thyestes ruled Mycenae, the sons of Atreus, Agamemnon and Menelaus, were exiled to Sparta. There, King Tyndareus accepted them as the royalty that they were and gave his daughters' hands (Clytemnestra and Helen) in marriage to the brothers. Shortly after, he helped the brothers return to Mycenae to overthrow Thyestes, forcing him to live in Kythira, where he died. Clytemnestra was furious at her husband for sacrificing their daughter Iphigenia before his departure to Troy and Aegisthus with a similar past wasn't that happy with his uncle and cousins too. So, they killed both Agamemnon and Cassandra upon their arrival, even though Cassandra had warned of this ill fate.

Clytemnestra after the Murder, oil painting by John Collier, 1882, London, Guildhall Art Gallery

Clytemnestra hesitates before killing the sleeping Agamemnon as Aegisthus urges her on. 1817.  Pierre Narcisse Guerin. French 1774-1833. oil/canvas.

Electra and Orestes sought refuge in Athens, and when Orestes was 20 years old, he consulted the Oracle of Delphi; there, he was told to take revenge for his father's death. Along with his sister, they went back to Mycenae and plotted against their mother and Aegisthus. With the help of his cousin and best friend, Pylades, Orestes managed to kill his mother and her lover; before her death though, Clytemnestra cursed Orestes and as a result, the Furies or Erinyes (justice or revenge goddess, who punish people who committed most horrible crimes) chased him, as it was their duty to punish anyone commiting matricide or other similar violent acts. Electra, instead, was not haunted by the Erinyes.

Orestes murders Aegisthus, (On the left Chrysothemis), Red-figure pelike. Detail. Attic., by an ancient artist known as the Berlin Painter. Clay. Ca. 500 B. C., Vienna, Museum of Art History

The Ghost of Clytemnestra Awakening the Furies, John Downman, 1781, Yale Center for British Art, New Haven, Connecticut, United States of America

About the House of Atreus: X

[incandescentflower]

2020 Fic Masterpost

As I keep adding to my fic I thought it might be helpful to have a pinned masterpost here for reference. 

Oh! My Emperor

Honor Bound - AU where Moran is the Emperor. This is a childhood friends to enemies to lovers fic with Yanran.

Private Eyes - Yanran gets a surprise when she is watching Moran in the bath - a Moran/Xunxian story

Cherry Magic!

Finding Their Way Series

Stay - Adachi brings Kurosawa home to stay the night after episode 7

Overnight Complications - Kurosawa awakes to something somewhat surprising

Payback - Adachi decides to try to take his own embarrassing photo of Kurosawa. It does not go as planned.

Security Blanket - A quiet moment at Kurosawa's apartment on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

Mulit-chapter

Boldly Going Where Adachi Has Never Been Before, Eventually - 5 times Adachi acted out Kurosawa’s fantasies + 1 time Adachi figured out his own

A Friend in Need - Kurosawa starts the company after Adachi gains mind reading ability. A different take on the friends with benefits trope.

Building the Adachi Toolkit - Kurosawa POV, being the best boyfriend ever, heavy smut

One shots

First and Forever - Missing scene from episode 12.

Trust - After episode 11. Adachi takes relationship advice from Fujisaki.

Wants, Needs, and Everything in Between - Adachi likes to be told what to do, Kurosawa likes to draw things out

A Cure for What Ails You - Kurosawa gets a sex curse, Adachi helps him out

After - Adachi adjusts to no longer being able to hear Kurosawa’s thoughts (A fic about enthusiastic consent)

Only in My Dreams - Adachi/Kurosawa bed sharing fic

Adachi, Be Bold! - Adachi gets up the courage to make a move. 

The Untamed

Modern AUs

The Intersection of Drunken Antics and Ill-Advised Agreements��- A fuck buddy/ friends with benefits/fake dating college AU mashup.

Take Me Home - WWX and LWJ part ways for 12 years due to grief and misunderstandings. High School and adult timelines.

Quiet Moments Series

Evidence of a Soul Laid Bare - Post-canon case fic where WWX is investigating LWJ’s feelings for him

Closer - LWJ is trying to get WWX comfortable with his feelings for him during sex

A Memento of Love Lost and Life Found - WWX comforts LWJ after he admits he forgot his death anniversary

Always - LWJ is abducted. WWX rescues him.

Captured - LWJ has a Yiling Patriarch kink. WWX role plays with him.

Invigoration Series

Misperception - LWJ uses musical cultivation during Sunshot to try to help WWX, the song he uses has a sex pollen effect that ends up being angsty

Redemption - WWX uses the musical sex pollen for fun with his husband post cannon and comforts LWJ a little as well

[shinadog]

Oh, hey, forgot to post this here - Mob Part 3 is up (and part 4 is on its way).

Summary : Something happened after Haruka’s concert. (PART 2) (AO3 Link)

 3 - BLAME

Eventually, people left him alone.

They had tried their best, but since he had refused their help, they decided to give him some space. He was more than alright with that. Not that "alright" could ever be a word he would use to describe himself. Not anymore.

He felt numb. Disconnected from it all.

All the events of the past few days - the concert, the crowd, the call he received in the middle of that fateful night, the sleepless nights where he almost choked because he couldn't stop crying, the funeral... He remembered living those things, but when he thought about them, he felt like a spectator watching them from afar. Not an actor, but a powerless observer, a blurry silhouette who was barely floating above those horrible scenes.

On his good days, the days where he was more or less aware of his surroundings, the awful numbness of loss was replaced by a burning anger. On those days, he started to think about the people he blamed.

He had managed to get his hands on an impressive number of newspapers and magazines. The hyenas who worked for those rags must have had a field day with this disaster - a lot of ink has been spilled over this, and it didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon. Good. Every new article fueled his anger, made something warm shake his numb, freezing body.

Sometimes, he would see her name in those papers. His own name, too. The sight of it made him sick, and he usually skimmed past it. He didn't want to know what the idiots writing them thought about him and his pain. More often than not, her name was replaced by a number. Lumped together with the rest of the poor souls who lost everything that night. He wasn't sure he liked that better.

The journalists who were feeling exceptionally bold sometimes talked about the yakuza. He kept those articles close. In one of them, he had seen the face of that man for the first time. The buff, scary looking guy in a bad suit. The "Dragon", a big name in the yakuza world, who had apparently moved away from it all years ago. The fucker whose stupid daughter's speech ruined everything. Kazuma Kiryu.

It was so much easier to hate someone when you knew what they looked like.

**********************************

Kiryu had fought many formidable foes in all his years in (and out) the business. Deadly, dangerous men who were out to get him, monsters who wanted to hurt his family. Yet, none of them hit him as hard as the shitty little TV in his hospital room.

Whenever he was back in his room, when very tired nurses managed to drag him away from Haruka so that he'd try to rest for once, he would turn the bloody thing on. No matter what time it was then, it felt like he always managed to find a channel that talked about the concert.

Even though his various babysitters always tried to turn the TV off, to distract him from it somehow, Kiryu seemed to always come back to it. That thing was hypnotizing. He only stopped when he left the room. Or when a particularly pissed Majima threatened to explode the screen with his baseball bat.

Still, Kiryu watched those programs diligently, listening to all the people who had something to say about this whole mess with all the focus he could muster.

Seeing some of the people who were in the crowd that night talk and listening to their retelling of it left him weirdly numb.

The enemies he had faced before were, well, people. They had names, stories, reasons to act the way they did. They were tangible, something Kiryu could punch. Defeat. Forgive. He could do no such thing with a mob. There was no big guy who had orchestrated the whole disaster, no mastermind who ran things in the shadows. No one he could easily blame, fight, and move on from.

For some reason, this lack of a proper target made him resent everyone else.

Kiryu thought himself to be a pretty forgiving person. Those feelings rearing their ugly heads were definitely new, and he didn't really know what to do with them. He mostly kept them bottled up, though, because that's what he usually did with unknown feelings, but it was starting to get tiring. Blaming everyone only made it clearer than no one was to blame, and that made him somehow angrier.

Still, that's what he did.

He blamed himself, first and foremost, as it was the easiest thing to do. He shouldn't have let Haruka go, shouldn't have left the orphanage, shouldn't have left that Park woman come into their home... Oh, he wanted to blame Park herself, of course, but being dead shielded her from his rage. Mostly.

Thinking about their last discussion, before she chased him from his home, was somehow too much for him to process anyway, so he mostly tried to banish her from his thoughts. Which was not exactly easy because every time he saw Majima, he was reminded of the fact that he didn't find it necessary to warn him about her and her history with him. So, naturally, he blamed Majima for that. Among other things, including faking his own death, forcing Kiryu to come out of hiding.

He blamed Saejima and Akiyama, for pulling their annoying "let's fight together" bullshit again and making him believe this would work. It didn't. So he blamed them and their stupid plan, he blamed-

Kiryu took a deep breath, focusing once more on the TV screen. All this anger was exhausting, and he was feeling dizzy already. Oh, that was another one - he blamed his stupid body for being messed up and forcing him to lay still, when all he wanted was to do something, anything, to get his mind out of it.

The TV, showing no mercy, was still going with various interviews when he saw the crying man.

A big guy, with shaking shoulders and his head down, mumbling something as he shook.

Kiryu felt a bit too ill to really listen to what he said, which didn't matter because he couldn't take his eyes off that man. A small text at the bottom of the screen finally managed to catch his attention, and he felt a heavy lump in his throat as he realized what he was looking at.

That guy's daughter was among the four people who died that night. She was fourteen.

As if he knew Kiryu was watching, the man suddenly looked straight into the camera, and the pain in those eyes hit him hard. As if he had been stung, Kiryu immediately stood up, ignoring his stiff body's complaints and bolted out of the room.

He slammed the door behind him, and, taking the time to appreciate that no one was standing guard to see him completely freak out, decided he would not go to Haruka’s room. On his worst days, Kiryu would blame her, too, looking at her sleeping form with uncontrollable anger. He didn't want to go there when he was already this agitated, so he started limping through the corridors.

He had been allowed recently to use crutches to move around, which were replacing the wheelchair. He was shaking, though, so perhaps that it wasn't such an improvement. Collapsing in the middle of the hospital didn't exactly sound like a good idea. Walking at random in the corridors to escape his TV screen was also not a good idea, but Kiryu was already too deep in thoughts to decide to turn away.

As he kept moving blindly, trying to calm down while not losing his already fragile balance, he was startled by a man inexplicably bowing down as he passed. Kiryu found himself blinking at the guy, dumbfounded, before he noticed the Tojo pin on his lapel, and the small, almost inaudible “Fourth Chairman” he had whispered. Right. Just your average Tojo clan goon, lost in a random hospital hallway.

Well, maybe not that random. There was another man standing at the other end of the corridor, staring at him with wide eyes, and a third in the middle, his arms crossed as he stood near the closed door. Before Kiryu could ask himself why that particular hallway was packed with yakuza, the guy had hurriedly knocked on the door and opened it just as fast, getting inside in an instant.

The man who had bowed down to him straightened up, his voice hesitant as he asked, “Have you come to talk with the Sixth Chairman, Sir?”

Not really, no. In fact, if Kiryu could not speak with anyone for the next 24 hours, that would be great. Still, he frowned. “I thought Daigo’s room was a few floors up.”

“It is, but the chairman is visiting his friend.”

Friend.

Kiryu had a vague memory of Akiyama introducing Shinada as “a friend of Daigo”, something that felt like it had happened in another lifetime. And, now that he was thinking about it, someone (Akiyama again, or Saejima, he wasn’t sure) had told him the man had been admitted here after the mob roughed him up. Having been pretty much trampled by the angry crowd, he had been lucky to make it out with, to Kiryu’s knowledge, only a few broken bones and a ton of bruises. Beaten up, but still alive. Conscious, even.

Unlike Haruka.

Kiryu felt something flick in his mind, and suddenly talking didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. He had been eating up footage of the incident for days now, listening to all the people who wanted to share what they had lived, and while it surely left an impression on him, the last example having been enough to send him running for the hills, it was not enough anymore.

He started moving again, careful not to fall, feeling heavy already after only having been using the crutches for a couple minutes. Not that he cared what the bodyguards would think if he collapsed in front of them. That would give them something fun to share with their fellow Tojo buddies.

Annoyingly enough, Kiryu had barely made two steps when he was stopped in his tracks again.

“Fourth Chairman.”

It wasn’t like he was surprised to see Daigo come out of the door, greeting him with an uncharacteristic anxious edge to his voice. His bodyguard had more or less already said he was in there, but Kiryu still couldn’t help but think there was something odd about this encounter. Maybe it was the fact that Daigo was still using a wheelchair, making Kiryu tower above him. Maybe it was the way he was looking at him now, his whole body tense as if he was expecting some kind of confrontation. Kiryu hadn’t seen this kind of hostility in Daigo’s eyes in years, but mostly, the man looked tired. Worried, too. Kiryu felt his own anger fade away slightly, as he got closer, wincing when  a sharp pain on his left side reminded him not to move so quickly.

“Looks like things aren’t going so well for either of us, Sixth Chairman.” he said, realizing they were not exactly the two yakuza big names they usually were, but just two wounded idiots staring at each other in a hospital hallway. The bodyguards were following the scene, looking nervous. Kiryu wondered if they were worried a fight was going to break out. He didn’t really think that was a possibility. Apart from throwing one of his crutches like a spear, which would certainly make him fall, he didn’t see how he could be a threat, right now.

Kiryu cleared his throat, remembering what he was doing here in the first place. “I came to talk with Shinada.” This wasn’t a question or a request. Maybe he was threatening, after all.

“I don’t think that would be wise.” Daigo’s voice was low, his eyes drifting back to the door. “He’s still pretty shaken up by this whole mess. It’s still too soon.”

“Akiyama told me he was doing better.”

“He is, but… I’m afraid talking about this would be too much. For him… Or for you.”

That was new. Talking to him like that was not like Daigo at all, and Kiryu had to admit he would have been impressed, if he hadn’t been instantly annoyed by this. He resisted the urge to get closer, and instead stayed where he was as he asked, “Are you going to stop me, Daigo?”

“ I’m not sure I can. I guess I could roll on your foot if you take one more step, though.”

Kiryu was about to reply that he would definitely hit him with his crutch if that happened, when a voice he failed to recognize came from inside the room. “Let him in already, will you?”

With a heavy sigh, Daigo turned his chair around, letting just enough space so that Kiryu could get in.

Once he was inside, Kiryu realized something. This room was nearly identical to the one Haruka was in. Which wasn’t so surprising - hospital rooms tended to look alike. What made him tick was the silence in this room. No machines or respirator in here, and somehow, this angered him. He didn’t like the ferocity with which this thought had imposed itself on him, but as he looked at Shinada, able to breathe on his own and even having the gall to be conscious, staring back at him with wide eyes, Kiryu felt furious.

So that’s what he was doing, now. Blaming someone he barely knew for having the audacity to be in a better shape than his daughter. Kiryu supposed his sudden surge of animosity must have been noticeable, because all the certainty Shinada had when he asked him to come inside seemed to have vanished.

Now that he was really looking at the man laying in the bed in front of him, Kiryu had to admit he wasn’t exactly looking his best. He didn’t know Shinada enough to really tell the difference, having only met him once before the concert, but he didn’t remember him looking this exhausted. His face was covered in bruises, and part of it was still slightly swollen. Of course the simple fact that he was awake at all made him look healthier than Haruka, but he had clearly been through a lot. Feeling the anger quiet down for a bit, Kiryu greeted the man with a small nod of his head, unsure of what to say, suddenly.

“Well, let’s get on with it.” Daigo’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “It’s late, already. You should both be getting some rest.”

And you’re not? Kiryu wanted to say, glaring at the corner of the room Daigo had retreated in. Kiryu had barely noticed he had gotten inside the room as well. Part of him wished he could have talked with Shinada alone, but he was somehow grateful that it wasn’t the case. He still felt agitated, ready to snap back at the smallest thing, so having some kind of onlooker in there was mildly reassuring. Still, Kiryu did not care much for his tone.

He was at least right on one thing. It was time to talk.

“Can you tell me what happened that night?” No preamble, no “hey how are you?”. Kiryu was not in the mood for small talk.

Shinada blinked, dumbstruck. “Haven’t… Haven’t they told you, already?”

“I want to hear it from someone who was actually there. I want to know how it could have come to this.”

He wasn’t wrong. Kiryu already knew more or less how it went. He had been filled in, and had seen enough from the news to fill in the blanks. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt like hearing it from Shinada’s mouth would be different, but he still felt a weird apprehension as he waited for the other man to answer.

It took him a couple of seconds, exchanging a worried look with Daigo from across the room, before he finally started. “I don’t… I don’t actually know how it began. The fight against that Baba guy had been harsh and since everything had gone well so far, I… I stayed behind for a minute. Caught my breath.”

Catching his breath. Losing precious minutes he could have used to grab Haruka before everything went downhill. Kiryu tried to be reasonable, reminding himself that he had never asked Shinada to actually get to Haruka after the concert. He was just supposed to stop the shooter. And he did. There was no real reason to blame him, as he had told himself countless times.

“When I left the Dome that’s when I realized something was up. It had already started then, and I heard the noises. The screams. People don’t make that kind of noise when they’re just leaving a concert, so I ran and-”

Though footage of the stampede no doubt existed, people having probably filmed it with their phones, the TV seemed to only show what happened after or before the mob was formed. Kiryu could only imagine the kind of racket thousands of people panicking and running everywhere would make. He frowned, feeling something boil inside him as he realized somewhere in all that noise, there might have been the voice of the child he swore he would protect.

He missed a sentence, and only came back to himself when Shinada started the next one. “It was crazy. It was like a sea of people, and they were everywhere, screaming and pushing and-”

With a nervous twitch in his eye, Shinada suddenly stopped talking. While he hadn’t talked that much yet, Kiryu noticed he seemed to be really agitated ever since he had started. He was breathing heavily now, eyes lost in some corner of the room.

He waited a few seconds for Shinada to catch his breath before he asked, “If you arrived after it had started, how did you end up caught in it?”

“Oh, uh. I heard some staff member guy yell something about one of their idols being lost in the crowd on his walkie-talkie. So I ran into the crowd.”

Somehow, Kiryu had never thought about all the people who were working there that night. Too busy focusing on Mirei Park and the fact that blaming her now was pointless, he had forgotten to add all the other folks who had worked with her to his now long list of people to blame. It was infuriating to think that between the staff members, the people of Dyna Chair who weren’t gruesomely murdered, the other idols and Shinada, all charged to keep her safe, Haruka had still been caught up in the mob.

“I thought “I’m a big tough guy, I can probably push my way into this” but that was really fucking stupid. There were hundreds of them, and everyone was panicking and running all over the place, I don’t-”

Kiryu knew that, had he been there that night, he would have ran into the angry crowd too, with no hesitation, no matter how stupid jumping right into a angry wave of people was. He wanted to believe he would have been able to fight it, too, to punch his way until he got to Haruka, but hearing the panic weaving its way into Shinada’s voice, his breath getting faster, he wasn’t so sure of it anymore. “I got knocked down pretty fast, and then I-”

There was another pause, and when Shinada talked again, it was with such a low voice Kiryu almost didn’t catch it. “It felt like drowning.”

“Enough.”

Having more or less forgotten that Daigo was in the room, Kiryu almost jumped as his hand landed on his shoulder. Apparently, while Kiryu had been busy focusing on Shinada’s retelling of the events, he had managed to drag himself from his chair, standing on his own though he was slightly hunched over, a hand pressed on his side. Kiryu would have yelled at him to sit back down, knowing that he had already messed up with his stitches at least once, but found that he couldn’t talk.

He was still stuck on Shinada’s last sentence.

  It felt like drowning.

Maybe it was the word “drowning”. It was visceral. Unpleasant. Kiryu felt sick as he wondered if that was how it had felt for Haruka, too.

Shinada had managed to find some of his composure back in the few tense seconds he took for Kiryu’s brain to finally start focusing on the scene again. Daigo’s hand was still on his shoulder, though he wasn’t sure if that was to get him to acknowledge him or if he was just leaning on him. Kiryu wanted to tell him to back off and sit down again before he hurt himself, but Shinada was faster, his breathing still somewhat erratic as he said, “It’s okay, Dojima, I can-”

“Kiryu.” Daigo ignored his friend’s attempt to stop him as he tried to straighten up, locking his eyes with Kiryu’s.   “What’s the point of this? You’re both still too tired to get upset about this. Let’s give it a rest.”

Upset.

The word sounded ridiculous when Kiryu could feel his anger threatening to overtake him at any moment. He was not “upset”, he was furious.

“You’re right.” He managed to blurt out, feeling somewhat nauseous all of a sudden. Maybe that he too could use some rest, that was the longest he had ever been standing up in days. He took a step back, careful not to lose his balance or make Daigo topple by removing himself from his grip too abruptly, giving Shinada one last look. “Thank you. I’ll let you rest.”

“Wait-” Shinada straightened up in his bed, trying to catch his eye. He was still talking too fast and breathing too hard, his voice cracking slightly as he said,  “I’m- I’m so sorry. I wish I could have done something to stop this.”

Kiryu had become something of an expert of empty, reassuring phrases after being fed so many of them in the past few days. He didn’t even look back as he walked out of the room, his voice probably harsher than he intended. “You did what you could. I can’t blame you.”

That was a lie, too. No matter how bad he felt seeing the man almost break down over the mere memory of the events, no matter how much he wanted to sympathize with him, Kiryu still blamed him. Like he blamed everyone. Like he blamed himself.

Feeling utterly sick with himself, he retreated to his room. The TV that he had left on when he ran away seemed to be taunting him, the bleak light it was projecting in the dark giving the room a ominous ambiance.

He punched the screen with such force that he almost broke his hand.

**********************************

Shinada had never been good at holding back his tears.

He had always cried easily, and never thought it useful to try to hide it.

Back in the day, he would cry when his baseball team won. Or when they lost. When he was banned after his first real game, he had wept for days. Some of these tears were also for his family, who had swore they would never talk to him again, but mostly, he was grieving the dream he was sure he had lost forever.

While he found many occasions to cry after that (being homeless for a while, being all alone, having no food for days, those kinds of things), Shinada had managed to more or less hold on for the past decades, and only cried every now and then.

The Dream Line concert had to be some kind of personal record. Shinada cried right after his fight against the shooter, overwhelmed by the adrenaline of it all, seeing the group perform from so far away while he was sitting in the stands, away from the spotlight. He also cried a few minutes later, when Takasugi’s call reminded him some people cared for him back in Nagoya. And, obviously, he cried after the incident, too. Because he was in pain, because he felt stupid and weak and useless. Because he blamed himself for what he was certain he could have prevented, had he been stronger.

Not crying while Kiryu, that man he had only just met and that he had still managed to disappoint, was standing in front of him, though? That was something. He could be proud.

Unfortunately, as soon as the door was closed behind Kiryu, he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and slumped back in his bed, and let out a small sob, knowing fully well he would be bawling his eyes out in a couple of seconds. Trying to delay the inevitable tears, he looked around, and was suddenly all too aware of Dojima still being in the room with him, standing awkwardly in the middle of it, looking at him with his usual stern expression.

It was not like Shinada minded him being here, really. If anything, he was grateful that he stuck around while Kiryu was there, a friendly face in a sea of hostility. As “friendly” as a scowling yakuza could get, at least. He supposed he should also be grateful for the way Dojima had insisted on bringing his interview with Kiryu to an early end. He couldn’t help but wish he could have said more, though. Apologized better. Still, he got him to leave the room right before Shinada hit his limit, so that was pretty great.

“Tatsuo…?”

Not expecting to hear his name hushed with such an hesitant tone, he took a second to wonder why Dojima was now looking at him with a slightly panicked expression.

Oh, right.

He  was  crying. He had barely noticed he had started to.

The room got more blurry now than actual tears were in his eyes, so much so that he almost missed Dojima dragging himself to his bed, gritting his teeth with each step. It only clicked in his mind that he had moved closer when he spoke again:

“Do you mind if I sit on your bed?”

Shinada shook his head. Sure, why not. The man should be sitting down, anyway, if his shaky steps were anything to go by. He still managed to get on the bed fairly quickly, making it creak under their combined weight.

A few seconds passed, the silence of the room disturbed by Shinada sniffing softly as he kept crying. Dojima said nothing, shifting awkwardly on the bed so that he was facing him, bending his body in a way that was probably not doing any good to his still healing bullet wound.

Shinada wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt overwhelmed by an urgent need for some kind of contact, but next thing he knew he had more or less collapsed in the other man’s arms. He felt Dojima stiffen against him, making him aware that perhaps entering the guy’s personal space like that without warning was a bit uncalled for. The man remained silent, though Shinada heard a very small gasp escape his lips.

Alright, so maybe he was out of line. No matter how shaken up he was, in pain and in tears, Shinada knew he wasn’t supposed to just throw himself at someone he hardly knew. Sure, technically Dojima and him had known each other for years, but they were not exactly friends back in high school. And their reunion had been so sudden that he barely had the time to process it. Vowing to protect each other’s dream meant they had  something , that much was certain, but Shinada wasn’t sure that would be the kind of relationship that involved offering a shoulder to cry on. Literally.

He could always stop, put some distance between them again. Apologize and blame it on the perfect blend of morphine and anguish in his body right now, making him a tad emotional. Dojima didn’t give him any time to back off though, wrapping his arms around him slowly. “Eh… Can I- I mean, do you…?”

Shinada wasn’t sure what he was asking. He wasn’t sure Dojima knew, either, with the way he was stammering. Still, he soon felt a hand stroking his back slowly, and that gesture was as soothing as it was unexpected. It was weird to think that last time those hands were on his body, they were in the middle of a full on brawl. The vicious punches he had received on that day suddenly felt very far away, replaced by a softness he would have never thought he’d see from his old classmate. He did look way less intimidating in his hospital gown, he had to admit. Maybe being shot just did that to people. Made them a bit more approachable. Or maybe he looked so pathetic right now that even the most cold-hearted criminal couldn’t resist him. Who knew. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he simply appreciated the fact he was offering some kind of comforting presence.

He allowed himself a few heartbeats to reposition himself, burying his face in the man’s chest before he returned to the task at hand.

Crying.

He cried because Kiryu blamed him, despite what he told him, he was certain of it. Because he blamed himself, too, obviously. Because he was exhausted, not having had a good night of sleep since the incident, waking up in a cold sweat every time he dozed off, his nightmare haunted by an angry crowd.

“I’m sorry,” Dojima’s voice interrupted his pity party, making him flinch. “I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating that, and Shinada had no idea why he was apologizing all of a sudden. He wanted to say that he was sorry too, sorry to have disappointed anyone who had believed in him when he left for the concert with the mission to protect that girl, but couldn’t make the words come out. So he kept on weeping, while Dojima kept whispering small apologies, pulling him closer.

Between two sobs, Shinada noticed there was something oddly familiar about this situation. It was not like it was a habit of his to break down and grab on to the nearest person to seek solace. Sure, he cried a lot, but he usually did it behind closed doors, alone. He had  some dignity left, surely. But being held like this as he wept brought him back to his first night in Nagoya, when he had felt a semblance of reassurance in Milky’s soft embrace. Well, sort of. Dojima was no Milky, he was still pretty stiff and the motion of his hand on Shinada’s back felt a bit awkward, he was clearly not used to this kind of gesture. Still, it felt nice.

It went on for a while, and Shinada felt like he was calming down when- “I need to move.” Just like that, Dojima released him, straightening up a bit too abruptly, shoving Shinada away. “Sorry. Bullet wound.”

Shinada watched him struggle to find a position that wasn’t putting any strain on his wound, before he settled for sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor. Dojima grimaced as he pressed a hand to his side, giving him a look that Shinada assumed was meant to be apologetic, but ended up looking like his usual tired scowl. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rush you like that, but if I open up those stitches again, I’m afraid my doctor’s going to give up on me.” And, because he clearly hadn’t said that enough in the last five minutes, “Sorry.”

Rubbing his eyes with his hands to chase any surviving tears, and feeling pretty confident he had calmed down enough to attempt to talk, Shinada came to join him, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Why do you keep saying you’re sorry?”

Apparently, Dojima hadn’t expected his question (that he had managed to ask with a not-so-shaky-voice, not bad for a guy who had been crying for the last ten minutes), looking at him with wide eyes. Turned out the guy could somewhat emote, when he wanted to. Shinada would have found it funny if his answer hadn’t come with such a sad, almost choked tone. “You’re only here because of me. I dragged you into this. Had I left you alone, you wouldn’t be…”

“A fucking mess.”

 “In pain.” His voice was low, sounding more like the man he had fought on his roof again. “I knew of the dangers and I still let you come here. And now you’re…” He trailed off, frowning even more. “I’m so sorry, Tatsuo.”

Shinada hadn’t really thought of it that way. Dojima waltzing back into his life was what had led to him being stuck here, with nightmares in his head and regrets in his heart, that was true. But when he thought of his home, where he was basically starving and where everyone had been hiding things from him, where he was basically rotting away while clinging on dreams that would never happen… Would he really have been better off if the yakuza never came to find him?

He sighed, realizing he would probably never find a satisfying answer to this question. Instead he settled for shuffling closer to his friend (he had decided that “friend” was an alright word to use, now that the guy had seen him cry and had tried his best to comfort him), resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Well, that’s silly.” Shinada’s voice was still a little hoarse, but he tried his best to sound cheerful. Well, more cheerful than he was a few moments ago, at least. “Remember how you tried to stop me from coming with you? And look, you’re nice enough not to go 'I told you so' about it, too.”

“I should have stopped you.”

“You wish. We fought for it, remember? And I won.”

“You won because I agreed to back down. I shouldn’t have. Should have kept fighting. Better have you stuck at home with a broken leg than here and in anguish.”

Shinada never thought he would hear someone say “I wish I had broken your leg” in a nice way, but here he was. He chuckled, and noticing Dojima looked still rather glum, avoiding to look at him as he stared at one corner of the room, took a deep sigh.

“Well, I don’t blame you, okay?”

He really meant it, too. Dojima remained silent, but Shinada noticed his lip twitching slightly. He wasn’t sure if it was because his wound was still acting up, or because his words had touched him somehow, but hoped it was the latter.

He knew what blaming himself felt like, and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

[miaouerie]

whumptober 2020 ------ day 31. left for dead

@whumptober2020​  Rebelcaptain Hunger Games AU: Cassian is Jyn’s mentor in the 70th Hunger Games. After being crowned victor at fifteen years old, Cassian is all-too-familiar with what it takes to bring a tribute home, and what becoming a victor really means.

content warnings: implied/referenced torture, mentions of attempted suicide, referenced brainwashing/conditioning, nonconsensual body modification, references to forced prostitution, references to forced drug use, unhappy/ambiguous ending

A/N: if downer endings aren’t quite your thing, I’ve written an alternate ending here, as well as additional author’s notes in a coda here. this is my first completed multichapter and thank you to everyone who has kept up with this story! any additional fics in this verse will be posted to my ao3.

previous: day 1 / 2  / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15  / 16  / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / → read on AO3

When Draven gets the call to escort Cassian from the Remake Center back to their district floor in the Tributes’ Tower and stand by for a forthcoming itinerary, he doesn’t need to see his charge to know that something fundamentally wrong has happened.

The last time his schedule began with picking up Cassian from the Remake Center was that period of time after his father died, which Draven now knows the truth about. But at the time he had been told that after Jeron Andor and Irga Torres were killed in a power plant explosion that a seditioner was blamed for, Cassian tried to kill himself out of grief. After two weeks in the Capitol of being monitored in extensive in-patient therapy, he was turned over to Draven to be ushered through the media press tour for his father’s death.

How Cassian behaved back then is eerily similar to how he presently is in Draven’s custody. He’s sitting in the backseat and relaxed against the headrest, but Draven has known Cassian long enough that the lines of stress pinning him in place are plain to see. His hands folded, in his lap. Facing forward, staring ahead at nothing. A tic in his jaw, barely perceptible but one that Draven catches all the same.

But what disturbs Draven are his eyes. Unlike that first time Draven picked him up from the Remake Center, they aren’t pained or filled with misery. They’re empty, in an unrecognizable way that Draven has never seen in him before.

After furtively investigating the intendance records kept of his charge for the past four years, Draven knows what really happens when Cassian is brought to the Capitol for ‘extensive in-patient therapy’. But for a brief moment he feels something revoltingly similar to gratitude that Cassian’s conditioning is strict about needless eye contact.

-

Next morning’s briefing packet sent to his datapad has a subfolder tagged with “SENSITIVE INFORMATION: DO NOT DISCLOSE,” to be unlocked with a retinal scan. It’s a copy of Jyn Erso’s medical record and an image of a bedside chart; last night she was transported from District 5 to an elite hospital in the Capitol for treatment of a stubborn respiratory illness.

Draven knew better than to ask questions—those who did had their tongues cut out and turned into Avoxes—but he quietly looks into the matter himself while performing his job’s duties for Cassian, whose schedule is booking up like it did during the Games. Taking every precaution available to avoid detection prolongs the search, but eventually he is able to determine that Jyn’s condition is a lie. That there is no proof that Jyn is even in the Capitol.

And then, he realizes, they must not know where she is at all.

-

Cassian’s body language used to telegraph his condition after an appointment but he doesn’t seem capable of it anymore. Nowadays, no matter how badly he’s been abused by a client, the posture he affects in the car is always the same: his hands folded, in his lap. Facing forward, staring ahead at nothing. A tic in his jaw, barely perceptible.

Whatever they had Cassian relearn in therapy included perfecting his talents as an obedient whore, so he’s not often returned in a state of intoxication as he once had to be. But it’s during those increasingly rare times—and only those times—that his tongue is loosened enough to let slip some of the perpetual torment he has to live with as punishment, because of Jyn Erso’s disappearance.

It’s one such night that Draven picks up Cassian at 03:01. After the car pulls away from the curb Cassian is still for a moment, before he heaves out a shuddery breath and his arms slump to his sides.

“Did you know they made it so I can’t say her name anymore?”

The words and their meaning take a moment to register with Draven. Then he says, “What?”

“No… I don’t think they would have told you. But I mean, her. My tribute. The one I saved.”

He can only be talking about Jyn Erso. Draven doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to; tonight, Cassian is giving voice to another painful truth.

“They asked me questions about her, had me read sentences aloud… made me give responses with her name in it. And they would hurt me, every single time I said it, so I can’t say it. Not without pain. Not anymore.”

His raspy confession is made to the silence. “Her name was like a prayer to me. Snow must have noticed, so he took it away.” A broken chuckle. “I didn’t think something like that was possible. But, they made me learn.”

Draven doesn’t know if he should be hearing this. But when he turns to give his full attention to his charge it’s like a switch is flipped. When their eyes meet Cassian’s eyes widen before he bolts himself back into place—hands back in his lap and looking straight forward.

The only thing betraying his vulnerability are the tears in his eyes.

-

It should not surprise Draven that Cassian tries to kill himself not long after that lapse in conduct, but it still does. At least, it’s a surprise in the sense that finding out a peer of two decades attempted suicide will always come as a surprise.

The Peacekeepers come when Draven is in the sitting room, waiting for Cassian to finish showering before Kay and his prep team arrive. One moment there’s the ding of the elevator arriving on their floor and in the next, six Peacekeepers are storming in.

Draven knows better than to demand answers in the heat of the moment so he stays out of their way, listens to the sound of the bathroom door breaking and boots stomping over shattered glass, listens to the sound of Cassian’s—frankly animalistic—screams as he’s subdued, and stays out of the way once again when they drag him out naked and wet and dripping blood from his arms and neck. They stand him there until a Peacekeeper returns from the bathroom with a dark fluffy green bathrobe for his modesty, and then he’s taken away.

When they make fleeting eye contact Draven is struck by the scathing accusation in his charge’s eyes. He wasn’t the one who called for the Peacekeepers but Cassian doesn’t know that, and Draven knows what it looks like. But there’s nothing he can say to Cassian in any case, nothing that can change the outcome of whatever has been decided to change next about him.  

-

Draven is scheduled to pick up Cassian from the Remake Center two weeks later. He has to walk into the lobby because the lead cognitive remake specialist has requested to talk to him, to show and demonstrate Cassian’s new implant.

It’s a very thin line of a scar on the back of Cassian’s neck, invisible to the naked eye but Draven can feel it when he brushes his fingers over the skin; beneath is a subdermal neuro-electrical node, grafted onto the nerves there. The specialist explains that when activated, it prevents Cassian from making sudden or any ‘suspiciously motivated’ movements. The remote that they give to Draven is for disabling it. Later on, Draven is assigned the responsibility of disabling its function for Cassian’s appointments as well as reenabling it after each one in turn.

Neither says a word as they get into the waiting car. They don’t speak for the whole car ride back, either. But more than once Draven sees Cassian’s hand creep to the back of his neck; his fingers slowly brush the scar tissue, before his hand is carefully guided back to his lap.

-

It proves very challenging to track where Cassian had been taken after his suicide attempt; Draven is always diligent about maintaining stealth when conducting these probes, but the seriousness of the situation called for significant preventive precautions to be taken. But once he succeeded…

…Then what?

He was able to determine that Cassian was taken to the same complex—in truth, one of several privately held black site facilities—for another two weeks of ‘in-patient therapy’ before he was transferred to the Remake Center. His process uncovered an entire network of similar private corporations and entities that operated under the purview of the government, all funded by the Hunger Games division for one apparent purpose: the victors’ covert diversion program.

But this devastative information only came about as a consequence from his attempts to satisfy an aberrant concern for Cassian’s whereabouts; Draven wasn’t planning on actively doing anything with it. Even the thought alone is treasonous: believing that victors deserved anything less than the hell that came pursuant on winning the Games was just a step below believing that the districts of Panem deserved anything more than the destitution and squalor left to them after the Dark Days. The victors’ diversion program was devised and implemented to prevent victors from believing that winning the Games meant anything other than being punished for it. Repeatedly. Because even if a new victor is crowned every year, the real winner of the Hunger Games will always remain the Capitol.

This is what Draven has always known. But then… there was Cassian.

He had come to know the boy at six years old, the first year Draven received the assignment to escort not only Irga and Jeron to the town plaza for District 5′s reaping, but the latter’s wife and son as well. Only one of the two living District 5 victors had a family, and now that Cassian was old enough to understand how to behave the Games producers wanted reaction shots of Jeron’s wife and child.

Their acquaintance proceeded as such—twice a year Draven saw the Andor boy, first at the reaping and again when escorting Jeron and Irga home after the closing ceremonies. Though he chose not to indulge in the sentiment, seeing Cassian grow up through the years in such a manner often left Draven with a feeling similar to how he felt after visiting with once-a-year relatives during Wintermas.

After Cassian was reaped and won his Games, Draven’s duties as District 5’s escort were officially recategorized with Cassian as his primary charge, relegating Jeron and Irga to second priority; if they needed to be chaperoned somewhere while he was with Cassian, there was express authorization to send a number of Peacekeepers to complete the task. But for the purpose that President Snow intended to use Cassian for, only a Games escort with discretionary expertise could do.

Draven’s choice of career tended to attract a lot of airheads and grifters, those who relished in schmoozing up sponsors or otherwise gunning for a glimpse of the glory and glamor awarded to a winning victor’s support team. But Draven derived his dedication to the job solely from esteem in his own competence; perhaps that was why the president believed his silence on Cassian being groomed and Jeron remaining unaware of it was guaranteed.

Did the president, in all of his scheming, ever consider the possibility of Draven going rogue? But even if he did tell Jeron of what President Snow was doing to his son it wouldn’t have changed the outcome; Cassian’s placement into a mentoring position could only be accomplished by leaving District 5’s mentorship short of a victor. Plus, he would have had his tongue cut out and turned into an Avox if Snow found out; if Peacekeepers were dispatched to interrupt Cassian’s suicide attempt quickly enough to thwart it, his treachery would have inevitably been discovered.

And where would that leave Cassian?

Another escort would be assigned, one who didn’t mind enabling Cassian after an assignment when he comes back horny and drunk or high, or in the mood for taking out his self-loathing on the only person available. Those moments of weakness never failed to stun Draven with their impact—they were cruel reminders of the fact that he is the only person in the Capitol who sees what became of a tormented boy, now constrained to his life as a tormented prisoner.

But Cassian’s new conditioning doesn’t seem to allow for any moments of weakness. Or rather, the implant doesn’t. His movements are mechanized and deliberate, calculated to avoid triggering the parameters for a shock, yet fluid enough that evidently he was put through his paces by his captors. Until he was well-trained, and conditioned, and became devoid of any expression at all.

Suffice to say, they don’t talk anymore. What is there left to say? Nothing, not until Draven receives an update on Jyn Erso’s health status. Then a personal summons to President Snow’s office.

-

The president and a trio of his advisors are waiting for Draven. The situation with District 5’s new victor has turned  critical; even with the Capitol’s elite medical advancements, Jyn is not responding well to treatment.

Draven knows it’s all lies but he agrees along with their assessment. Jyn’s untimely death before the Victory Tour may be unavoidable, and the Capitol needs to control the story behind the cause to control the public’s reaction to her death. Her condition has been kept secret in anticipation of this very situation; several contingency plans to stage been drawn up, each optimized to account for potential blowback between the Capitol and the districts.

While each plan is pitched to weather Snow’s criticism, Draven doesn’t let any confusion or concern cross his face. Not when the president’s snakelike eyes are on his every time Draven chances a glance. He knows Snow is observing his reaction to this authoritarian show of might—whatever choice is made here will have a ripple effect throughout all of Panem, going much further than the conflict between President Snow and the victors of District 5. Expectably, Draven isn’t asked for any input, but he knows that’s not what he’s been called here for.

After the advisors are dismissed Draven stands alone, a respectable distance away in front of Snow sitting at his desk; the president watches him awhile before he speaks. “So, Davits. You understand how imperative it is that we control the narrative, not just here within the Capitol but in the rest of Panem.”

“Of course, Mister President.”

“I’m sure, then, you understand the necessity of what was done to Cassian.” Snow gets up from behind his desk, circling around to lean against the dark mahogany facade with his arms crossed. His stance is still threatening despite its casual assertion; Draven almost takes a step back but he remains standing where he is.

“Jeron Andor mistakenly believed that he had enough power to take matters into his own hands; it can be only him who passed along the concept to young Cassian. One would think that his father’s fate taught him that attempting to do so can only end in tragedy. And yes,” he says in answer to the sudden clench of fear in Draven’s chest, “I’ve been made aware of your interloping efforts regarding Jeron and Miss Torres’ deaths. I concede that it was not a deception that accounted for close scrutiny. Rest assured that when your inquests were discovered, the advisor and those responsible for implementing the proposal were swiftly executed.”  

The president continues, “I will not question your motives for investigating the matter. I am not commending your capabilities in doing so, either. But understand this: there is nothing for you to do here except your assigned function as District 5’s escort. Nothing less, and nothing more. An unfathomably simple request, yet if only Cassian had performed his role in the same capacity his implant would not have been deemed necessary. Undoubtedly you agree that rebellious actions such as his merit consequences tailored to their severity.”

Draven’s throat is dry but his voice remains steady. “Indeed, sir.”

Snow straightens himself upright. They’re both tall people but he does have an inch on Draven in height, and his next words are spoken in a voice both paternalistic and contemptuous. “No further harm has to befall the boy, but it will be your future discretion which will determine that. Now, have I made your situation clear?”

-

Snow doesn’t know the entirety of what Draven knows about the victor diversion program then. Yet. It may only be a matter of time before Peacekeepers are at his door. They wouldn’t kidnap him for ‘extensive in-patient therapy’, not when a bullet to the head would be quicker, cleaner, and most effectively ensure his silence.

There’s only one road for him to take now; he can no longer abide by what the Capitol is allowed to demand from Cassian, not when they claw for everything within reach to cement his enslavement.

Where will his charge be a year from now, or three? What else can they take from him?

How did Jeron live through nineteen years of this feeling?

It should feel daunting; the thought only registers later that night after Cassian is dropped off at the Tower and Draven is heading home. That finding a way to save Cassian will take everything he’s got, in order to go against everything he’s ever known. But Draven did not get this far in his life by second-guessing his choices, and he has never been so sure of one thing.

The next certainty is this: he’s got to find Jyn Erso.

[desolationlovers]

x posting resumed

ill start with some basic plot explaination because i dont expect anybody to read a 30 year old reasonably hard to find manga

ok SO disclaimer i have a really hard time summarizing because i think everything is important so thisll be long. mentions of gore muder and death. and so much edge

kamui shiro (main character) is a teenager returning to tokyo after moving away six years before. his childhood friends kotori and fuuma (brother and sister) notice that hes become very hotheaded and abrassive where he was very quiet and shy as a kid.

kamui is being observered magically by two different groups, the dragons of heaven and the dragons of earth. both groups wonder how this kid could be The “Kamui”, the one whose destiny it is to decide the fate of humanity.

the dragons of heaven, also known as the “seven seals”, believe that humanity should continue to live on earth, even if it causes the eventual death of the earth. the dragons of earth, also known as the “seven angels”, want to get rid of all human life so that the earth can begin to heal and continue on. every member of both sides of this fight had their positions preordained. every move they make is destined to happen, foretold by dreamgazers. the dreamgazers are people with the ability to travel through the world of dreams, able to see the future as well as the past and are able to create their own dreamscapes. they can also bring other people into their dreams. the main dreamgazer, a woman named hinoto is on the side of the dragons of heaven and is gathering them all to ready for the Final Battle for the Fate of the Earth.

this is hinoto

kamui doesnt know a whole lot about his destiny other than he is involved in the final battle. the reason he and his mother left tokyo was because. brace yourself for this one also tw gore. kotori and fuumas mother was the one that “gave birth” to one of the sacred swords needed in the final battle. when she gives birth to this sword she straight up exploded. you know how in old ps2 games enemies would explode in a pile of meat. that. so kamui and his mom leave and she explains his part in the end of the world. kamui is the only one in this whole ordeal who gets to choose which side he wants to be on. no one really knows all the details about the future because parts of it only get locked in place when kamui makes his choice. cut to six years later kamui comes home from school and his house is on fire and his mom is inside. mom, unfazed by being actually on fire, tells kamui that the time has come to return to tokyo and fufill his destiny and then dies because she was on fire. kamui is not yet used to seeing people die horrifically in front of him so is devistated, but eventually makes his way to tokyo.

kamui doesnt actually seem to have put a lot of though into this whole destiny thing. his plan is to go retrieve the scared sword and leave because he specifically doesnt want kotori and fuuma involved because he knows it insanely dangerous and besides his mom theyre the only people he really cares about. so he adopts this whole evil asshole attitude so that they dont want anything to do with him. which doesnt really work lol.

after being an asshole to his friends at school, kamui runs into hinotos knight (basically) and picks a fight with him because hes sick of being spied on.

side note everyone involved with the final battle has. magic basically? everyone has a special thing they can do but everyone has the ability to naruto run on buildings and jump mega high and the like. anime shit. kamui has something similar to telekensis and can create energy blasts.

anyway theyre fighting and kamui shows no care to the destruction hes creating. the fight ends in a draw when another dragon of heaven shows up and pulls the knight out because theyre both severely injured. kamui ends up collapsing from his wounds and just so happens to be found by fuuma and taken to fuumas home (which is also a shrine) and calls a doctor. as kamui is passed out hinoto visits him in a dream and tells him to join the seven seals and shows him visions she has had about what could happen if he doesnt. one of the visions shows that kotori will be killed and hinoto says that he might be able to save her.

yet ANOTHER seal followed fuuma and kamui and gives out a another loredump the second he and kamui are alone. while this is happening the shrine is attacked by one of the seven angels that has come to steal the the scared sword. the angel kills fuumas father and escapes with the sword.

(sword feat. the dad)

hinoto has a dream that shows her that there are actually TWO “Kamuis” that will be on each side of the battle. whatever choice original kamui makes, the other will go to the other side.

kamui goes to finally meet hinoto in person and basically has the same convo as the dream but the dreamgazer of the seven angels shows up in this dream and tells him his other option to join the angels. kamui is mega pissed hinoto wouldnt tell him the whole truth. he storms out yelling about how he doesnt care about any of this.

after leaving kamui runs into kotori and they talk about how things were when they were kids and are immediately attacked by another of the seven angels. kamui is trying to protect kotori who has no fuckin clue whats goin on. fuuma shows up out of nowhere and gets them out of there. kamui tells fuuma that he just wants him and kotori to be safe.fuuma reveals that his father said somehing to him before he died and hes been having dreams about it before seeming to go completely blank faced and says that he and kamuis fates are intertwined but snaps out of it.

kamuis aunt, who has shown up like once and was vauge for a bit, appears and tells kamui and fuuma that shes about to give birth to the other scared sword. then she also explodes. her spirit tells them theres a secret vault where they need to take the sword to and keep there until the promised day.

kotori was getting drinks or something and walks into the massacare and loses her mind. she had seen her mother die the same way so she full on dissociates and is near catatonic.

fuuma on the other hand, goes back into that blank face trance and says that he is the second kamui. and snaps out of it again. sceret agents show up to take kamui to the vault. they bring along fuuma and kotori.

kamui does an assload of monolouging and reflection after they arrive at the vault. kamui tells fuuma that his only wish is for he and kotori to be safe and happy. fuuma once again switches to his other self and says “youve finally come to a decision i see” and grabs the sword and kotori. kamui gives chase.

fuuma destroys part of the building and holds kotori in place with wires on a massive cross (symbolism. subtlety who). fuuma stabs glass shards into kamui to pin him against a wall before ultimately killing kotori with the sword, as was foreseen by hinoto as well as kotori herself. fuuma bounces to join up with the dragons of earth while kamui breaks down over kotoris body.

side note if i had a nickle for everytime a near catatonic tramatized person carried around a decapitated head in this id have two nickles which isnt much but its weird it happened twice

congrats thats the first 8 volumes of x1999 with all of the side characters cut out.

i wrote all the way to 8 because kotoris death is basically the end of act 1 and is what gets the ball actually rolling. and since i want to talk about kamui as a character i had to get atleast that far. thats gonna be another post tho this is way too long its lagging my notes app. also tumblr only allows ten images. rip. no triangle shoulders for yall.

[theritualofourexistence]

Odes to Old Gods

I started this year intending to journal about things I survive. Then at the end of the year, I could look back on my challenges and think about them in a more positive way--wow, look at what I overcame! The plan was to document everything, both good and bad, so that I could think about them more as experiences and lessons learned than as... good and bad. 

Needless to say, I stopped keeping track of those things in April. 

Earlier this month, I pulled out the journal again to update the list. I ended up quitting on that too. 

I do think, though, that in a less chaotic year, thinking about my life this way would be good practice. So, here I am, sharing my list with you in the form of an end-of-year, wrap-up blog post. 

A few quick caveats: 

This year was hard for literally everyone except maybe Jeff Bezos. 

It is not healthy to compare challenges or struggles or suffering.

I am not sharing this because I am looking for sympathy... I believe that being vulnerable is a very important part of the human experience but we can all also use a reminder that we never really know all of what anyone is experiencing. We shouldn’t need that reminder to treat others with love... but the older I get, the more I think those reminders might be necessary.

Things I have survived in 2020:

- A bit of a stalking experience in January which has since been resolved.

- Losing my job, hunting for a new job, securing a new job, training for the new job.

- My first Harry Potter tattoo for my ten-year tattooiversary.

- The fires in Australia.

- An absolutely wonderful trip to NYC with my dad when I got to see both Beetlejuice and Hadestown and have an enormous strawberry cheesecake milkshake from Junior’s. 

- Losing Kobe Bryant.

- Parasite absolutely CRUSHING the Oscars.

- Having a really, really good visit with my grandparents in March before all hell broke loose. 

- Weinstein being convicted and sentenced.

[Everything after this point happened during a global pandemic.]

- Losing Grandmom. I was unable to attend her funeral and still have not had the chance to grieve this loss with my extended family. 

- Losing my health insurance.

- A Zoom party for my Grammy’s 80th birthday.

- Losing Breonna Taylor. And George Floyd. And so, so many others. This is the first year I have really committed to understanding the current race-related issues this country faces and BOY, do we have work to do.

- The stress but success of orchestrating a safe family trip so that I didn’t have to go an entire year without seeing my brother.

- Losing my shifts at my primary job due to virus-related concerns.

- Countless other family happy birthdays over Zoom.

- My 60-year-old mother returning to work face-to-face with a student population that largely ignores all virus-related guidelines despite her working tirelessly for months this spring to offer UHS providers an adequate work-from-home option. 

- Being diagnosed with hypertension.

- A nightmarish friend trip. Despite our best laid plans for a safe and healthy visit, Mother Earth decided to trap me 90 miles north of my best friends for 4 days. I eventually got to see them for about 12 hours and honestly, it was worth it. That is the only time I’ve gotten with them all year.

- Losing Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

- The selection of Amy Coney Barrett to the Supreme Court.

- Our sweet girl Clio being diagnosed with a seizure disorder and then coming down with a life-threatening upper respiratory infection. 

- Learning that my grandmother would be voting for Trump in the 2020 election.

- The actual election.

- Losing Rooster, my sweet, sweet boy.

- Learning that my uncle has been diagnosed with esophageal cancer.

- Missing Thanksgiving with my extended family.

- Getting really excellent holiday gifts for my favorite people.

- Missing Christmas with my extended family.

- Safely spending some holiday time with my immediate family.

That is FAR from everything. But I don’t have the energy? Capacity? Time? to sort through everything.

Here are the things from this year that I am still currently surviving:

- A global pandemic! And all the associated chaos. With my asthma and high blood pressure and obesity, I am considered high risk and am still not able to safely return to my primary job. 

- Hypertension! More on this later.

- Grieving Rooster. In the days after we said goodbye, I wrote a memorial that I will eventually share here. Psychology has recently analyzed data suggesting that losing a pet can be equivalent to losing a relative... I have never felt grief like this. It’s been over a month. I cry every night. 

- Managing Clio’s health. She is still adjusting to her seizure medication, which she gets twice a day, and is still on medication to help with lasting symptoms of the respiratory infection. She is fussy about food and her weight fluctuates a lot week to week. She is also a feral rescue who has only ever been handled by me, my mom, and our vet. If mom and I are ever going to vacation together again, we will need to find someone who can manage catching and pilling her twice a day... no easy feat. Fortunately, at the moment, vacations aren’t really a thing for either my mom or I and I am working hard to approach these concerns in a cross-that-bridge-when-we-come-to-it way.

----

This year has been overwhelming. The last two months alone have been overwhelming. And they would’ve been overwhelming without the added spice of a global pandemic. The number of Americans we have lost to this virus has doubled since I last posted here in mid-August. Some time this week we are likely to reach a point where we’re losing 4,000 Americans per day. PER. DAY. This year has been overwhelming.

----

There were some good things this year, of course. I am so, so thankful for all the time I got with my immediate family and the very brief but vital time I got with my friends. Fortunately I am only ever a text away from my closest friends and we are able to message pretty much every day. I am also extremely glad to have found a place in the fantasy enamel pin community. The family I’ve found in pin-land has carried me through some of my lowest points this year. I spent more time in view of the ocean than I typically do in a given year... even though much of that time was still riddled with anxiety. I did art this year. I read books this year. Some really important ones, in fact. If you read nothing else in 2021, read The New Jim Crow. I also got tattooed! I’m going to include those here because I think the significance of each reflects something interesting and important about all I have survived and am surviving this year.

----

In January, I got my first Harry Potter tattoo! My favorite quote from the entire series is delivered by Hagrid during the Triwizard tournament:

”What’s comin’ will come, and we’ll meet it when it does.” 

I got that incorporated into a tattoo. In January. 

Also in January I got a “Prisoner of Donuts” tattoo... because life just wouldn’t be manageable at all without donuts.

In March, I got a bird of prey carrying a book to represent one of my all time favorite poems, “On Thought in Harness” by Edna St. Vincent Millay. The final lines of that poem:

“Soar, eat ether, see what has never been seen. Depart, be lost, but climb.” 

In July, I was able to safely navigate getting a tattoo that symbolizes the saga told in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. LOTR is my first and oldest fandom and the story is still so, so important to me today. The lessons I learned from Tolkien when I was a kid also carried me through some of my hardest moments this year.

Also in July I got a Plumpy tattoo. That’s right. Plumpy. From Candyland. If you haven’t played the game in a while, you may not remember Plumpy. He’s one of the first characters you meet on the game board... and one of the worst cards to see when you’re close to winning the game. You could be three damn squares from the finish line and pull the Plumpy card and back to the beginning of the board you go. Plumpy is a really great reminder that even when we have no choice but to lose ground, we can gain that ground back again. And hey, once you pull the Plumpy card from the deck, you likely won’t see him again for a good long while. 

In October, I was able to safely navigate getting my second Harry Potter tattoo. Neville has always been one of my favorite fantasy characters and I chose to carry him with me permanently. His courage, despite so, so much bullshit, inspires me every day. I also got a nautical tattoo for my mom’s ancestors who came to this country and fought in the Revolutionary War. Just as my family has a long and proud history of fighting for what matters, I too will carry that banner, even if it looks very, very different in the modern age. My third tattoo of the appointment is a cuckoo holding playing cards, a nod to one of most important stories I’ve read: Ken Kesey’s “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” This book has informed not just my personal journey with mental illness but my passion to work in the field as well. My final tattoo of my October appointment, less than a week before the 2020 election, is a weeping Lady Justice. 

----

This year has made me look critically at things I very comfortably ignored for a long time. I would hope that it has done the same for most of you. Very little if any of this year was easy for me... but the most important lessons are never easy to learn. I’ve spent this year more worried and more angry than I’ve ever been before... and all I hope to do moving forward is use that fear and that anger to make this country, this world, a better place. Miss me with your resolutions this year. Every single day we should prioritize surviving and treating others with understanding and active love. I worked hard to do that this year and I will continue to work hard to do that every day. I’m proud of the work I’ve done. And in case it wasn’t clear, I’ll be dragging as many of you as I can on this journey with me. If you really feel the need to make a resolution this year, resolve to learn. Resolve to understand. Resolve to read The New Jim Crow and then TAKE ACTION. Take action with your votes and your voices and your money. Resolve to act.

----

This year wouldn’t let me escape it without being put on blood pressure medication, despite my best efforts to lower my blood pressure without it. Although I had gotten back down into a healthy range for a few weeks, RBG’s death and the landslide of utter shit that followed that completely wrecked all the progress I had made. I’m not happy about adding a new medicine to my regimen. I’m not happy about adding a new chronic diagnosis to my already lengthy laundry list. I did not expect 30 to look like allergy pills and three daily moisturizers and foot stretches and Metamucil and acid reducers and migraine medication and iron supplements and six prunes a day and chronic pain and blood pressure medication... but here we are. I’m exhausted from working so hard to be healthy just to have all that work not be enough. I feel very much like my body is giving up on me... and that is a feeling I am struggling with a lot right now. My soul is a vibrant but powerless passenger in a car speeding towards the edge of a cliff.

I’ll keep trying though. I start my new medication tonight. Hopefully it helps. Hopefully the side effects are manageable. I don’t really feel like I can handle much more... but I guess we keep going until we can’t.   

----

I have no expectations for 2021 to be better. I don’t have much hope for it to be better either. This vaccine will saves lives and that’s really good news. But a lot of other things will be difficult, will stay difficult, will become difficult. I’m going to try to keep fighting, and I hope you do too. 

“What’s comin’ will come, and we’ll meet it when it does.” 

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 1/?

May I? - 1/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she's truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

A/N: Hey guys! I have this fic posted over on AO3 already but thought I’d post it here as well. Currently there are 12 chapters. This fic is ongoing and while I have a clear arc/story in the works, I haven’t decided when it will end. I’m just kind of going with it. This story has been my support fic throughout this whole fucking quarantine mess and I’ve been having a lot of fun writing it. I’ll be posting all the chapters so far throughout the week. 

It may seem that everyday something happens aboard the Enterprise. It was almost like every week it was an invasion, a messy political shift, a weird time distortion loop, hostile negotiations...the list went on and on. However, in reality, there was a lot of time when nothing happened. When the ship glided through space effortlessly and the crew fell into a steady routine. Occasionally, they stopped at a planet to gather samples or map it. But other than that, all was quiet. 

It was on one of those routine days that Data found himself in Engineering, helping Geordi with several re-calibrations. They were minor modifications the two had wanted to implement for some time yet had not been able to.

All had gone according to plan and they were in the process of completing their work when Geordi stood up straight, a triumphant smile on his face.

"All set," he declared. "The conductors are functioning five-percent higher than normal. We should run a level one diagnostic just to be sure but there shouldn't be any issues."

"I agree. Readings are well within standard parameters," Data concluded, fingers dancing across the console. 

"I asked Diaz to do a manual sweep just to be sure," Geordi said. "I haven't heard from her yet but it doesn't seem like anything is out of place." He tapped his communicator. "La Forge to Ensign Diaz, what's the status of your sweep?"

Geordi waited for a response but one did not come. He tapped his communicator again. "Ensign Diaz, report!"

Nothing.

Data had only known Ensign Diaz in passing but he recalled Geordi's increasing frustration with the new crew member. She did not seem to have the same level of skills as some of her fellow engineers and her behavior had been less than exemplary.

"Where is she?" Geordi muttered. "Computer, locate Ensign Diaz."

" Ensign Diaz is located in Jefferies Tube 42B."

"Now what the hell is she doing in there?" Geordi said with exasperation. "And why isn't she answering?"

Data cocked his head as he ran through all possible scenarios. "I have calculated two hundred and thirty possible reasons for Ensign Diaz's behavior. One, she found a structural issue that she decided to correct. Two, one of the conductors may be showing signs of stress the computer cannot detect. Three—"

"Thanks, Data. I get it," Geordi cut him off. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm going to find out what's going on."

He had barely taken a step away from the console when his own communicator beeped. "Riker to La Forge, meet me in Transporter Room One. Prepare to beam to the planet's surface."

Geordi sighed but responded, "Aye, Commander. On my way."

Data saw Geordi glance in the direction Ensign Diaz had gone. "I am not required on the Bridge until oh-eight hundred hours. I can locate Ensign Diaz for you," he offered.

Geordi looked relieved and gave his best friend a smile. "That'd be great, thanks, Data. I'll be back as soon as I can." He gave him a pat on the back as he walked by. 

Data finished his work a second later before heading to the tubes. He found one of them already open and climbed inside. 

He did not see any signs of the ensign so he proceeded forward. 

"Ensign Diaz?" he called, his voice echoing off the metallic walks around him. 

He came across her communicator a short distance away, sitting at the bottom of a ladder. Frowning, Data picked it up and examined it. It did not look damaged and a quick diagnostic revealed it was in working order. He continued his search.

When he climbed the ladder, he was met with the sight of Ensign Diaz, deeply engrossed in one of the panels on the wall.

"Ensign Diaz?" he asked.

She spun around in surprise. Once she realized who spoke, she tried to straighten up, though it was difficult in such a tight space. 

"Commander Data! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." Data held up her communicator. "I found this in the shaft behind us. I believe it is yours."

Diaz touched the spot on her uniform where it should have been as if she had not known it was missing.

"Thank you. It must have slipped off when I was climbing." She took it from him, pinning it back in place.

"Why are you in the tubes? Commander La Forge asked me to find you. He said you were told to do a manual sweep."

"I was a-and I did," Diaz stuttered, tucking a loose strand of dark hair back into her braid. "While I was doing so, I noticed one of the panels was out of alignment. Physically. I-I tried to correct it. It wouldn't budge so I decided to try to get it from the other side."

"I see." Data moved forward to check her work. Sure enough, he could see where the unit was off-center. "Most curious. That should not be possible."

"That's what I thought. But I can't seem to get it back into place." 

Data knew what was going to happen before it did. Yet even with his quick reflexes, he was not able to prevent the accident. 

Diaz did not have a proper grip on the part when she tugged on it. She had been perspiring and as a result, her hands slipped. The momentum sent her forward, where she smashed her head on the metal edge of the unit.

She screamed in pain, hand pressed to the spot as Data pulled her away. "Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed.

"Are you alright?" Data asked.

"Aside from seeing stars, I think so. Let's just fix the stupid thing and get out of here."

"I will handle it." Data carefully released Diaz, letting her rest against the tube wall while he took her place. Within seconds he fixed the situation, securing the unit into its proper position before determining it was in perfect working condition.

"My readings indicate everything is in working order," he said as he moved his tricorder over the unit. "Good work, Ensign."

"Thanks," Diaz said, removing her hand from her head.

Data looked at her, only to realize her forehead was smeared with blood.

"Ensign Diaz, you are bleeding."

"What? No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I believe you injured yourself when you hit your head."

"It's not that…" She looked at her hand, the color draining from her face when she saw blood on her palm. "...bad."

Data put his recorder in his pocket and made a move to tap his communicator but she stopped him. 

"No, wait! Don't!"

"Ensign, you are bleeding. I must contact sickbay."

"Honestly, I'm okay. I just need something to wipe up the blood. I'll be fine."

"I insist."

Diaz sighed and Data noted her eyes looked glossy. He wondered if the injury was more severe than she was letting on. 

"Let's at least get out of this stupid tube," she said. "I promise I'll walk there myself."

"That would be acceptable. As a precaution, I will accompany you to Dr. Crusher."

He motioned for her to move ahead and the pair began to backtrack. It was slow work as Diaz was careful not to leave a trail of bloody handprints in their path. When it came time to climb the ladder, Data insisted on going first so he could monitor her in case she needed help. 

He kept his eyes on Diaz, looking for any signs of distress while she descended. He noted her balance was unsteady. She rocked slightly and had to pause several times. During one of those times, she shut her eyes, arms wrapped around the rung in front of her.

"Ensign Diaz—"

"Please, call me, Faith. I never liked formal titles very much."

"As you wish. Faith, are you experiencing dizziness?"

"Sir, I'm fine."

Data found himself making a noise of disbelief. "No. You are not."

Faith cracked her eyes open, glancing down at him and Data saw her arms trembling as she tried to keep herself up. "Commander?"

"Yes?"

"I think I might pass out."

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her grip loosened, sending her tumbling off the ladder. For the second time, Data caught her in his arms. Quickly he tapped his communicator.

"Data to Transporter Room Two. I need immediate transport for two to sickbay. Current location Jefferies Tube 42B."

"Aye, Commander!" O'Brien's voice answered. "I'll have you there in a jiff."

A second later, Data found himself standing in the middle of sickbay, Faith's limp body in his arms. Dr. Crusher whirled around, eyes widening when she saw them.

In an instant she was at their side, scanning Faith. "What happened?" she demanded.

"Faith hit her head. She became weak and lost consciousness."

"How long ago?"

"The injury took place approximately ten minutes ago. She has been unconscious for thirty seconds."

"Data, get her up on the bed for me."

As he carried her across the room, her eyes fluttered open.

"Ugh, where am I?"

"You are in sickbay," he answered, gently lowering her down onto one of the beds.

"What happened?"

"Do you not remember hitting your head?"

Faith's eyes closed and she swallowed thickly, her head lolling from side to side. "It's all fuzzy." She grew still again.

"Faith? It's Dr. Crusher. I need you to open your eyes again. Can you do that for me?" When there was no answer, Beverly injected Faith with something while handing Data a towel. "Data, press this to her wound while I get my dermal regenerator. We have to stop the bleeding."

"Yes, Doctor."

Data did as he was told, pushing Faith's bangs back from her face so he could see the wound properly. It was deeper than he initially noticed. He pressed the towel to it, noting how much paler she had become in such a short period of time.

Beverly reappeared a moment later. He stepped aside so she could work, watching with rapt attention as she peeled the towel away before spraying the wound with antibacterial ointment. Once it was clean, she carefully sealed up the wound, leaving nothing but smeared blood in its place.

"That's done at least," she muttered to herself. She picked up her tricorder and resumed scanning the young woman.

"Will Faith be alright, Doctor?"

"She should be. According to my readings, she has a concussion. I recommend she be taken off duty for the time being."

"A smart recommendation."

Beverly finished scanning Faith, but this time her mouth deepened into a frown. "Hmm…" She scanned her again.

"Is something wrong?" Data asked.

It took a moment for the doctor to acknowledge his question. When she did, Beverly gave him a tight smile. "Nothing you need to worry about. Thank you for your help, Data. I can take it from here. You're free to go."

"I have already created a formal report of the accident. I will send it to you now for your records."

"That'd be great, thanks. And I'll let Geordi know not to expect Faith for a few days."

"Excellent. Have a good day, Doctor."

Data took his leave, but something came over him and made him pause, turning to look back. Faith was still unconscious and Dr. Crusher was staring at her as if deep in thought. Her expression was one Data had come to associate with that of concern.

However, he had duties to attend to. So he left sickbay and filed the incident for later review.

[cheesiefoam]

Fool Me Once, Shame On Me

(Also posted on AO3.)

---

Groggily, Kaito opened his eyes, regaining consciousness bit by bit. His muscles protested as he tried to sit up, body still sore from being lifted like a ragdoll. The Exisal’s grip had been far from gentle, and he was sure he’d see bruising within a few hours. However, when he looked down to check, he finally realized…

He was tied to a chair.

“What the fuck?” he mouthed to himself, beginning to struggle. “What the fuck?!” he exclaimed when the ropes around him held firm.

Then it hit him… Kokichi. The mastermind of the killing game. Kokichi had captured him with the Exisal, meaning he must’ve been the one behind this, too. Righteous anger flooded his veins as his efforts to escape redoubled, and he privately swore he’d make the bastard pay for all the humiliation and suffering he’d inflicted.

Suddenly, he heard the door being unlocked, and he braced himself for a confrontation. He eyed the doorknob as it slowly turned open, then lifted his gaze to see…

“Shuichi?” Confusion, but more importantly relief, filled his heart. Even though they’d barely been on speaking terms since the last trial, he couldn’t deny that he was glad to see his sidekick again. “What are you doing here? Where’s Kokichi?”

“How much do you remember?” Shuichi asked quietly. It wasn’t the response Kaito expected, but he shrugged it off.

“Kokichi exposed himself as the mastermind and mocked us, then I tried to attack him, but he used the Exisal to grab me. I think I knocked out after that.”

“Oh, so you didn’t hear what that came after…”

“Came after? What happened? Did I miss something big?” Kaito’s earlier unease returned as Shuichi approached him. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut.

“Well, to sum things up, Kokichi was lying again. He isn’t actually the mastermind.” Now standing right in front of him, Shuichi leaned forward, closing the distance between them until his face was just inches away. Despite the circumstances, he looked calm. Far calmer than Kaito had ever seen him. “The truth is…”

Then, with only three words, he shattered Kaito’s reality.

“I’m the mastermind.”

Kaito didn’t know what expression he made, but his feelings must’ve shown on his face, because Shuichi immediately started cackling.

“There it is! There’s the look I wanted to see! The disbelief, the betrayal, THE DESPAIR!” His eyes shone with wicked glee, reminiscent of Kokichi yet… indescribably worse. “Buddying up to you really was my best idea yet!”

“W-What the hell is wrong with you?!” Kaito snapped once he found his voice, still not quite accepting the situation, yet unable to ignore the other’s behavior.

“Nothing,” Shuichi replied, then tilted his head in thought. “Or maybe everything, depending on your perspective. Either way, I’m having fun, and that’s really all that matters.”

Fury and horror battled for dominance within Kaito’s mind, though neither did him any good. Even with the mastermind standing right in front of him, he was helpless to take action, trapped and betrayed by the very person he’d trusted most.

“It’s sinking in, isn’t it?” Shuichi smiled. “Everything you’ve stood for… all the good you’ve tried to do… meaningless, because you decided to believe in me.” Insanity swirled in his eyes. “What are you gonna do now, hero? I’m absolutely dying to know.”

---

“Shit,” Kokichi cursed under his breath. “FUCKING SHIT!” he repeated, kicking over a chair.

The others watched on with varying levels of concern, uncertain how to approach him.

“Calm down,” Maki finally commanded, grabbing him by the shoulder. She caught his arm when he tried to lash out, neither surprised nor bothered. “We need to come up with a plan.”

Unhappy being ordered around by someone who’d nearly killed him twice, Kokichi was very tempted to struggle. However, he knew it would be futile, not to mention a waste of time. The fact was that she was right. They needed to regroup and think of a way to save Kaito.

Kaito…

Kokichi felt like kicking himself. He’d miscalculated badly, and now Kaito was the one paying for it. How many people had to suffer before he could do something right? How many had to die as a direct consequence of his own plans?

“Kokichi,” Kiibo suddenly addressed him. “You were the one in control of the Exisals until Shuichi reclaimed them. Is there any information you can provide that might be of use?”

He pushed the worst of his thoughts away. Right now, they had to work together. With the true mastermind revealed, they had a common enemy, and at the very least he finally knew who among them was trustworthy.

---

“Look at you,” Shuichi crooned, brushing his fingers against Kaito’s cheek. “You couldn’t be any less heroic if you tried.” His face split into a grin when Kaito flinched. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“Don’t touch me!” Kaito barked, attempting to lean back, only to be impeded by the ropes coiled around him.

“It’s all your fault for believing in me, isn’t it? You overestimated your judgement, and that’s why people kept getting hurt. You contributed to this killing game just as much as I did.”

“SHUT UP!” Kaito finally shouted, only to trigger a violent coughing fit. Blood dripped down his chin and splattered against his shirt, even speckling the ropes with red.

Shuichi looked delighted.

“Hey, Kaito, you wanna live don’t you?” he whispered in his ear. “Why don’t you beg me for the cure to your illness? After all, I’m the one who made you sick, which means I’m also the one who can make you better.” He took hold of Kaito’s face, forcing him to meet his deranged eyes. “What do you think? Are you tempted?”

Kaito promptly spat in his face.

“Stubborn until the end, huh?” Shuichi mused, wiping himself with the dangling sleeve of Kaito’s jacket. For a brief second, he looked normal, just like the meek detective Kaito had known. Then his gaze sharpened, his hands clasped around Kaito’s neck… and he squeezed.

“Ghh!” Kaito choked, beginning to struggle as Shuichi strangled him. It wasn’t long before his lungs were aching worse than ever before.

“Well, aren’t you going to fight me?” Shuichi mocked. “You refused to beg, so I guess you don’t want the cure, but does that mean you’re ready to die?”

The realization that he was about to be killed… that the end was even sooner than expected… that the very last thing he’d see would be Shuichi- no, the mastermind’s demented grin…

In that moment, Kaito was truly afraid.

And then Shuichi let go.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, sounding almost pleasant. “You definitely looked scared.” Abandoning his seat on Kaito’s lap, he stood up and made his way towards the door. “Killing you right now would be easy, and I’m sure everyone’s despair once they found your corpse would be amazing, but… it’d be such a waste. Anyway, I’ve got some other business to take care of, so I won’t be back for a few hours. Try not to choke on your own blood before then.”

And then Kaito was completely alone, left only with his thoughts as company.

---

“You don’t think Shuichi’s hurting him, do you?” Tsumugi worried.

“We should hurry up,” Himiko frowned.

“I’m ready to go,” Maki stated, lifting up an electrohammer. “If Kiibo and I take care of all the Exisals, you’ll be able to handle Shuichi on your own, right?”

Kokichi nodded solemnly.

“I won’t let the mastermind get away this time.”

---

A long while later, though there was no telling how much time had actually passed, Kaito heard a commotion coming from outside. Physically and mentally drained from his extended confinement, he barely lifted his head when the door eventually swung open.

He sprang to life, however, as soon as he saw who was there.

“K-Kokichi!”

“Hiya, Kaito!” Kokichi greeted cheerfully. “Happy to see me?”

Kaito stared at him for several seconds, seeing but not quite believing, before his eyes welled up with tears. Kokichi instantly faltered, all emotion draining from his face.

“Uh, not quite the welcome I was expecting,” he reflexively quipped, only to trail off. Though he’d considered the possibility that Kaito might be shaken by the night’s events, to see his designated rival crying at the mere sight of him…

How was he supposed to react?

Gathering himself, Kokichi decided that releasing Kaito first would be the most practical course of action.

“I’m going to untie you, okay?” he reassured. He felt a twinge in his chest when Kaito squeezed his eyes shut, pushing out more tears as a result. “It’s… it’s okay. You’re safe now. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

Cautiously, Kokichi began untying the ropes around Kaito’s body, quickly freeing his arms. Once that was done, he got to work on the ropes around Kaito’s legs. The fact that Kaito didn’t say anything else only added to his discomfort. 

“Alright, that’s all of them. Can you stand?”

“I… don’t know.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Kaito attempted to walk forward, only to stumble as the feeling of pins and needles overwhelmed him. Kokichi caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Guess that’s a no,” Kokichi sighed, helping him sit against the wall instead. “Whatever. I’m sure Maki won’t have any trouble carrying you out of here. She was demolishing the other Exisals earlier, so she’ll probably join us real soon.”

“What happened to Shuichi?” Kaito couldn’t help but ask. “Is he-” Kaito stopped, realizing he was about to ask if Shuichi was alright. Even after everything, he was still struggling to accept the truth. 

The Shuichi he'd believed in had been a lie. Their entire friendship had been a lie. There was no point trying to help him anymore.

Kokichi scooted closer, bumping their knees together, seeming to understand what was going through Kaito’s mind.

“He’s alive. Unconscious, but alive. We’re going to interrogate him later.”

“Oh...”

An uncomfortable silence descended upon them, during which time tears continued rolling down Kaito’s cheeks. Wordlessly, Kokichi offered Kaito his scarf, only slightly surprised when Kaito actually took it.

He looked away when he heard sobbing.

[westallenfun]

Before the Hood - 1/6

For @jade4813 from @backtothestart02​ -I’m not going to lie. This gets pretty angsty pretty quickly and ends on a bittersweet note. But it’s meant to be the prequel to my Robin Hood westallen AU that I plan to write eventually (yes, this is a Robin Hood AU, you got me), and that fic will end very happily, so if you’d like, you can consider that your fic too. I hope you’re able to enjoy this fic though!

I so appreciate you as a person and a shipper and a writer. I am always so inspired by you and your talent and appreciate so much how kind you are. So I was unbelievably excited when I received your name as my giftee (you write such incredible AUs!). Hopefully you will enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it and be hopeful about what comes after instead of in a puddle of tears. I hope I can do your masterpieces some justice and that you have an amazing Christmas and holiday season!!

Merry Christmas!

…

(All of these chapters have been lightly proofread, so feel free to do a re-read once I post them to AO3 & FFnet, b/c I’m sure they’ll be in much better condition then.)

Fun Fact: I did some medieval research for this story that I did try to incorporate. (1) People were not meant to be educated unless they were upperclass/royalty/clergymen. (2) Women were rarely educated period, unless upperclass and then very little. They were expected to marry and raise children. (3) The Crusades and everything according to the Robin Hood legend that I googled I tried to incorporate to some degree, since I did keep the story set in the Middle Ages. (There’s prob more, but I can’t think of what at the moment.)

…

Chapter 1 -

Collin Woods.

A place thick with trees, alive with wildlife, and far from any central city on the map, two hundred miles away from the literal Central City. Within the woods contained the small town of the same name, the only structure cresting above the trees being the stone castle of the royals. Previously residing there was King Richard – a loyal, good king who took care of his people and flourished the town with bountiful riches and a thriving population. But within the past several months he had left the town and its people to embark on the noble quest of fighting in the Crusades. In his place, he left his younger brother, Prince John, a selfish, spoiled, adolescent fool who little by little drained the small town of its resources until the only thing rich and satisfying to the eye could be found within the castle grounds.

Many of the young men of the town had gone off to fight in the Crusades with their King. Not all could go, because work needed to be done that could not only be sustained by older men, women, and children. But some left not only for the cause itself but to escape the death trap that had become their once thriving homeland. War with all its drudgery, pain, and rate of death on the battlefield was still a welcome reprieve. To those that survived, they only hoped their king would return with them and so sustain the lands they used to call home and create a small paradise once again for themselves and those they loved.

Beside Prince John was his wise and yet often taken for granted advisor, Sir Hiss – not his actual name of course, but his natural born lisp that often affected his speech had granted him the title. The superficial prince did nothing to correct it. Since he relished as well as mocked his only true friend – if he could be called that – the name suited him in the latter case. Trained guards were at Prince John’s disposal, as well as the particularly greedy Sheriff of Collin Woods, Clifford Devoe.

Amongst the townspeople was the West family, but with the father, Joseph, and the son, Wallace, off to fight in the Crusades, and the mother, Francine, passed many years ago, the daughter, Maid Iris, was ordered by Prince John to live under the care of Sheriff DeVoe and his wife, Marlise. Iris was rarely seen after that, except for at festivals hosted by Prince John. And by one other, who she risked everything to see night after night by moonlight, hidden amongst the trees lining Silver Lake.

Barry Allen.

Bartholomew was his given name, but hardly rolling off the tongue, his best friend, Cisco – who’d also shortened his name – decided on a nick name for the young Allen. To those around him, it had stuck.

Barry was the only child of Henry and Nora Allen. The former was the only doctor in the town. He had taken a young pupil under his wing, a girl – which was most unheard of, Caitlin Snow. He’d tried to lure his son into the teachings of medicine. There were few things greater than the ability to heal, he would say. But young Barry would have none of it. And being a friend of Caitlin himself, Barry encouraged the union. There should be more than two doctors in one town, should one fall ill, heaven forbid. But it wasn’t going to be him. Most of the time when he wasn’t home, he traveled into town to offer his skills – that of repairing homes and entertaining children – as proof of his servitude. His mother, Nora, who was a seamstress to nearly everyone found this to be a great addition to the work force. And since she needed to do little to win over her husband, most of the time he relented.

But Barry didn’t spend all of his time tending to the needs of the townsfolk. His favorite pastimes were narrowed down to three: fishing with his best friend, Cisco, practicing archery from his handmade bow and arrows, and visiting Maid Iris by moonlight.

One late afternoon in June, finished with his tasks for today, Barry idly leaned against a tree and carved himself some new arrows, preparing to get some practice in. For the Crusades he would tell his father if the subject ever arose. But it hadn’t yet. Only his friends knew of his hobby, and it was kept amongst them. It was no secret Barry didn’t want to go to war.

“Hey!”

The disgruntled voice pulled Barry out of his reverie, and he saw an unamused Cisco standing inches beneath where his arrow had landed, a hole piercing his new hat as it stay pinned against the tree behind him.

Barry had the decency to blush.

“Sorry, Cisco.”

Cisco carefully pulled the arrow free and his hat with it and placed it back on his head.

“Watch it. My mother made that.”

Cisco’s mother was not the greatest seamstress – as was evidenced by the seams falling apart of the hats she made for her son, even without arrows being shot through them. But his parents looked down upon the Allen’s for Henry’s audacity to train a young girl in medicine, to educate a peasant girl whose duty it was to marry and raise children, not attempt to heal people. And also, because Barry’s parents were not stricter with him. As a result, they forbid their son from being friends with Barry – an order he ignored fervently.

“My mother could make you a new one,” Barry offered, not for the first time, as he turned his full attention to his friend.

Cisco snorted. “My mother would know. She knows she can’t sew. It has never been her talent. And if she saw how neatly the seams were sewn, she’d know where I had been.”

Barry nodded. He knew. He just couldn’t help but offer.

“Did you see Caitlin today?” Cisco asked casually, leaning against the tree beside Barry.

Barry shook his head. “I left early this morning. Ralph was off with Sue again, so he wasn’t around to watch his younger brothers and sisters. I offered my services.”

Cisco’s lips turned up in a smirk. “Of course you did.”

“It is my contribution,” Barry said, picking up another arrow and shaving down the sides so it would fly more smoothly.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

He shrugged.

“Maybe you’re just jealous Ralph can spend time with Sue in broad daylight when you have to sneak around with Iris by moonlight.”

Barry froze, his eyes wide as he turned to look at his friend.

“What? You thought I didn’t know?”

Barry turned his body fully.

“I’m your best friend,” Cisco said, offended.

“You’re not- You didn’t- Does anyone else-”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course no one else knows. At least not because of me. I won’t tell a soul.” He paused. “At least not until you do.”

Barry snorted and returned to his arrows.

“I’ll never be able to do that,” he muttered under his breath.

“You never know,” Cisco said, softening.

Barry picked up his bow and arrow and aimed for a farther tree.

“As long as King Richard is fighting in the Crusades and Iris is cooped up with that awful Sheriff DeVoe, there’s no way we can be together openly. She’ll probably marry that awful knight Julian,” Barry said, scowling.

“I thought he’s planning to leave for the Crusades,” Cisco said, his brows fusing together.

“Not before obtaining a marriage proposal, I bet.”

“And why would the Sheriff say yes to him? He gains too much by keeping Iris locked up. He feeds off her inheritance.”

Barry lowered his bow. “Because Julian is a knight, and his father is in Prince John’s royal guard. He probably thinks Julian won’t return from the Crusades and he won’t have to worry about it.”

“But if he does return…”

“He’ll have to own up to the promise. And Maid Iris will have no choice in the matter.”

Cisco shoulders slumped, and then he gathered himself together, determined to let them not both be burdened down by this possibility.

“It might not happen,” he offered. “Julian’s thirst for war might overcome his desire for Iris.”

Barry looked at him. “It does.”

Cisco’s brows furrowed again.

“Julian wants her because I have her. It’s his petty jealousy for everything I have that is greater than his thirst for war. All the medals and glory in the world would mean nothing to him if they didn’t also crush me into the ground in the process.”

He shot off another arrow, this one recklessly into the air at a distance. Someone could trace it, find him, discover his hobby and somehow use it against him. But he didn’t care. Few things stifled his hatred for Julian Albert, son of the guard, knight in training, who gloated about all that he would receive on his return from the Crusades. More than once Barry had wanted to retort bitterly, ‘If you return.’ But he’d held his breath. He wouldn’t sink to his level.

“And what do you have that he doesn’t?” Cisco asked, though he knew at least some of what his answer would be.

“Both parents, friends, the right to choose what I want to do, and a father who is willing to bend the rules for the sake of the people.”

“And the love of Iris,” Cisco added, which made Barry’s anger finally fizzle out.

“Yes. And that.”

…

In the quiet cottage just off the edge of town, Nora Allen sat in her rocking chair and picking up a new color of yarn to add to her nearest quilt. She hummed quietly to herself, a melody to harmonize with the blue birds chirping outside the window. The sun shone through it, warming her face, and with the scent of biscuits wafting out of the oven, she knew dinner would soon be at hand. The chicken was ready, and the corn. With the prepared food would come her husband, her son, and the young girl Henry had taken under his wing, Caitlin Snow.

Caitlin was a quiet one. With long brown locks and the same purple, cotton dress she wore day after day, only changing the ribbons in her hair on occasion, Nora had taken to mothering her. She’d never had a daughter, and there was much about Caitlin that appealed to her. From her determination to chase after her dreams to her polite refusal of anything that might inconvenience anyone, Nora welcomed having her in their home and at their table. A few times she had studied her son’s interactions with her to see if there was any spark. She certainly wouldn’t mind having Caitlin officially part of their family.

But Caitlin, it seemed, was in love with a slightly older boy, Ronnie Raymond, who had gone off to fight in the Crusades. And Nora’s boy, Barry, she had begun to suspect, still fancied Maid Iris.

It was a star-crossed romance she’d hoped her son could avoid. Not because she held anything against Iris or her family, but because it would be nearly impossible for them to find happiness together in a practical sense with Iris being elevated in her father’s and brother’s absence. In addition, she knew the feelings had not been one-sided before Joseph and Wallace had left for Crusades. That made the young romance even more devastating.

But Iris lived with Sheriff DeVoe now, who was snide and arrogant and in line with that terrible Prince John who was constantly raising the taxes. She hoped Marlise DeVoe, who while loyal to her husband, didn’t appreciate his tactics, had taken Iris under her wing and protected her. Heaven only knows what kind of atmosphere existed in that house if she hadn’t.

With Prince John’s almost constant raising of taxes – and demand in paying them being more frequent – Nora worried that soon Henry would allow appointments without pay. He tried to be firm and decisive on the outside, but on the inside his love for her and his son and the townspeople had turned him to mush. After all, once Barry had made it clear he would not be following in his footsteps, Henry had sought out a pupil and had no qualms whatsoever about taking on Caitlin Snow.

The sound of the heavy wooden door being opened interrupted her thoughts, and the sound of her husband’s warm voice made the sadness of her thoughts all but disappear.

“Something smells good,” Henry said, walking through the door. “You smell that, Caitlin?” The young girl nodded beside him. “It smells wonderful.”

Nora smiled to herself, set aside her tools and yarn and walked into the entryway adjoining the kitchen.

“You’re home,” she said, to which her husband crossed the distance between them and placed a kiss on her cheek. “It smells so good.” He pulled back. “Is it biscuits?”

She nodded. “Yes. And chicken and potatoes.”

Caitlin’s eyes lit up. “You have potatoes?”

“Yes. And I’m going to mash them. Would you like to help?”

Caitlin nearly bounced up on her toes. It never ceased to amazing Nora how this girl could go from being shy to eager and excited when new opportunities presented themselves. She wondered what that meant about her home life but decided not to think on it.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she chuckled. “Come on.” She nodded her head towards the hot pot over the fire and grabbed some pot warmers so as not to burn herself. “Grab a bowl from the bottom shelf. We’ll put them in there first.”

Caitlin did as she was told and used the large spoon to transfer the vegetable. Nora looked over her shoulder at her husband as she did so.

“Have you seen Barry today?”

“Not this morning,” he said on a sigh. “But the Dibny’s informed me he spent all morning with their rambunctious children, so he must’ve done some good today.”

“Henry.” Her voice lowered, and he reined himself in.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a good thing what he’s doing. It’s better than just lying around this place all day. I’m glad he’s getting work in and that he’ll help out with the harvest in the fall.”

“Oh!” Caitlin interjected, spying the individual in question walking passed the distant window. “I think I see him.”

Moments later, the door opened and Barry walked in, a basket of freshly pulled carrots in his arms.

“Carrots,” Caitlin said, awe-struck by yet another delicious food being added to the menu.

“What a brilliant idea, Barry. Thank you for thinking of it,” his mother said.

He forced a smile that matched his father’s until Henry felt the glare his wife was delivering to the back of his head.

“I thought it might…add something,” Barry added lamely, avoiding his father’s gaze.

“I talked to the Dibny’s earlier today,” Henry said, pushing bitter feelings behind him for the sake of the meal and the company. “It sounds like you were very helpful to them this morning.”

Barry looked at him, then glanced at his mother and Caitlin and knew he had to do something to release the tension.

“Well, someone had to be, what with Ralph running off with Sue just as his brothers and sisters were waking up.”

Henry softened, a proud smile gracing his features.

“I’m glad you stepped up, son.” He gripped his shoulder. “It’s good to know what’s important in life and not go running after a lass before you’ve found your place.”

He glanced over at Caitlin.

“Nothing against you, of course, Caitlin.”

She grinned sardonically.

“Of course not. I’m special.”

Barry shook his head at the comment, but it had the whole family laughing, and so the tension was broken.

…

Night descended over Collin Woods about an hour after dinner. Caitlin had returned home, promising to meet Henry at his clinic the next day as early as she could. He promised to bring food with him and Nora insisted she come home with Henry for dinner again. Caitlin was reluctant to make that promise, so she just smiled as a goodbye and waved her hand on the way out. Barry watched her from the front window and thought about the impact she made on their home. He was glad to have her in his life, and glad even more so that she’d provided an escape for him from his father’s profession. But he worried some about her home life. Whenever he saw her about in town, there was no light in her eyes. She looked sullen, almost like a young child. And he saw the tight grip her mother always had on her even though she was three years into adulthood at age fifteen. It just made him more aware of the destruction Prince John had brought upon their little town.

Barry lay in bed until he could hear his parents’ snores drifting down the hall. Deeming it safe to slip out, he pushed open his window and carefully climbed over the ledge to the other side. He closed it after he’d landed in the grass, keeping it open a crack so he wouldn’t have difficulty going in, and then slinked away from his home, taking off as fast as one of his arrows as soon as he’d reached the cluster of trees thickening like a swarm of flies on the way to Central Pond.

He got to the edge of the water, looked up and saw some hazy clouds crossing over the moon. He worried for a moment that she wouldn’t come. They had always said that if it was a cloudy night, maybe it was a sign they shouldn’t meet up that night, that there was somehow a better likelihood of them being caught, even if logically that didn’t make sense. They should be harder to see with no grand moonlight making figures known amongst the trees.

But he didn’t have to worry long. Because mere moments later, a tap came on his shoulder, and he nearly fell into the water because of it.

“Barry!” she quietly shrieked, pulling him back by the fabric of his shirt, and then dissolving into a fit of giggles when she did. Putting a hand over her mouth, she tried to compose herself. “I’m sorry.”

He was flushed, breathing heavily for a few moments, but then a silly grin stretched across his face.

“No apology needed,” he said, then took her hand and led her away from the water into the woods. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“So was I,” she said. “The clouds were so much thicker from my bedroom window.” She came to a stop and held both of her hands in his, swinging a little on the balls of her feet. “But I thought I’d make a try for it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

In truth it had been two days, and the only reason they hadn’t met up was because of storms, rain that poured hard and for hours. But it still felt like an eternity. Every moment apart felt like a lifetime.

“I know,” he said, intertwining their fingers together. “It’s been forever.”

He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled on her hands with his own, instantly bringing her closer, and met her lips with a sudden kiss. She melted into it, and so did he. His arms moved to settle on her waist as hers wrapped around his neck. And for a while they stood there in the filtered moonlight, just ignoring the world around them.

“Oh, Barry,” she murmured, eventually pulling back enough to lay her head on his chest. He swayed them gently. “I wish it could be like this forever.”

He rested his cheek on the top of her head and shut his eyes, listening to the sway of her long dress in the night breeze.

“So do I.”

“I dream at night about us, you know.”

He smiled to himself. “You do?”

“Well, don’t you?” She lifted her head to look up at him.

“Of course, Iris. I dream about you even when I’m not sleeping. I almost shot Cisco with an arrow today because I was so distracted dreaming of you.”

Her eyes sparkled. “You wouldn’t have hit him.”

“I don’t know…I was pretty distracted.”

“You never miss,” she said. “Not even when you’re distracted.”

“I might’ve made an exception for Julian,” he joked lightly.

She smirked. “I might’ve let you.”

He didn’t know if her not liking Julian any more than he did made their situation even more tragic, but he decided he liked it. Better the knight not be his competition when it came to Iris’ heart. In any other way, he could deal, even if he didn’t want to, but if he was unsure about where her heart lie, he was sure he would die.

“Come on,” he said, stepping back enough to just hold her hand. “I want to show you something.”

Iris bit her bottom lip and ran with him through the woods until they came to a large tree. She stopped before he did and looked up at the spectacle before them.

“It’s amazing,” she said, awestruck.

“It’s old,” he responded. “And probably shouldn’t be climbed on.” He bent down to pick something off the grass just around the old oak. “But it’s unlike any other tree in the whole forest, and I think we should make it our own.”

He came back to her and handed her a rock, sharp and narrow at the end. She looked at it strangely and met his eyes with a quizzical expression.

“What are you thinking, Barry?”

He grinned and pulled her to the large, oak tree. Then she watched as he used his own rock to painstakingly carve his initials into the wood. He made a small cross beneath it and stepped back. He glanced at her when she didn’t move.

“Your turn,” he said.

Excitedly, though she tried to contain herself, Iris stepped forward and carved her own initials in. Then, without any prodding, she drew a large heart around their letters and stepped back, looking at their masterpiece proudly.

“I love you, Iris,” he said, softly, and she turned to find him staring at her, so much love in his eyes. She didn’t doubt his declaration for a second.

“I love you, too, Barry,” she returned, taking both his hands in hers as they’d been before.

“I don’t know how long we can be like this,” he admitted. “But I’m going to treasure every moment.” He brought their clasped hands to his heart and held them there. “You’re my home, Iris. And that’s one thing that will never change.”

Her heart aflutter, and all words fallen away from her memory, she smiled softly in response. Then she tilted her face up, closed her eyes, and waited for him to kiss her.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Thirty-One: On A Hill ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

It still shakes him to see this place.

Most of the destruction was lost on him in those final few minutes. He’d been a little preoccupied to take in the scenery, what with his using the last of his chakra on Kirin, not wanting to take his eyes off Itachi for a moment. Exhausted, terrified, and desperate, he’d hardly noticed the rubble until he his back had been pressed against it.

No escape.

...Sasuke’s not even sure why he’s come back. The stones are still scorched from Amaterasu’s obsidian flames, a brush of his fingers smudging soot. Almost nothing remains of the old Uchiha hideout. A piece of history lost to violence. But those are long-bygone days, now. He’s almost glad a testament to what was before is gone. While he grieves his clan, and their oppression...so too does Sasuke know they weren’t always blameless. They were ruthless during the Sengoku Jidai. They had to be, under Madara’s banner.

And even now, the scraps of them left have to be tough. But not in ways that require grand fortresses atop mountains.

Ironically enough, it’s raining. Lightly, just barely a misting...but he can’t help but find it...fitting. He doesn’t even bother with the hood of his traveling cloak as they breach the top of the hill.

“It’s still unbelievable...what you two did here.”

A dark eye glances to his right, where his companion stands. Her own kekkei genkai is active, looking over the ruins quietly. “This place must have been huge...and to end up like this…”

“...Itachi and I are both peerless shinobi. Even then, we were both forces to be reckoned with.” Of course, the purple, rippled iris he keeps hidden beneath his hitai ate now means he’s grown even more powerful since then. Destruction of this scale is hardly unheard of for him now. Just look what he and Naruto wrought a few months later upon Shūmatsu no Tani. Granted...both that battle and the one here were fought with the highest of stakes. But that doesn’t mean he’s not still as capable.

Hinata lets her eyes rest. “...does he know you were coming back here today?”

“No. No point.”

“Why...are we here…?”

In truth, he’s not sure. He just felt compelled to revisit it. “...closure, maybe. Guilt. I don’t know. Just felt right to come back.”

She doesn't offer a reply - there’s no need. Sometimes a person doesn’t need a reason. Just a feeling. Wordlessly, she makes her way forward, Sasuke following.

“...you said still. Still unbelievable. Have you seen this before, Hinata?”

“I have. Did I never tell you?” There’s a curious glance to her new husband. “I was part of the retrieval team that went looking for you just as you and Itachi-san began your fight. My team went along as trackers.I went with Naruto-kun and Yamato-san, and one of Kakashi-sensei’s ninken. Later we all met up here, but...you and Itachi’s body were already gone. Obito had taken you…” Her gaze turns somber, turning back ahead. “...Naruto-kun was so upset...he’d thought you killing Orochimaru would mean coming home. And when that failed te be true, then surely, after Itachi was dead...but then Akatsuki got ahold of you.”

“...and I learned the truth about my clan’s massacre.”

“From a rather jilted source.”

Sasuke doesn’t stop a humorless snort. “...you’re right...but it didn’t make it any less true. Just...weaponized. Manipulating. I still would have reacted the same had anyone else told me. I just happened to ally with the wrong person because of it.”

It’s then they end up at the threshold of what was once the floor. Nearly all of the walls have been blown apart. One can only tell due to the smoothing of the stone compared to the outside. “What...was this place, exactly?”

“All I know is that it was once a clan hideout. Pretty sure from before the formation of the hidden villages. It was huge...even had a throne.” Another snort. “I’d bet my life savings Madara was the only one to ever use it...clan head or not, he had the ego for it.”

Hinata’s lips give a small twitch.

“...well I’ll be damned.”

Speaking of, said throne sits - majorly chipped - at the rear of the ruins. A large portion of the back is missing, only part of the mural behind it still standing. “...guess it wasn’t directly impacted. Makes sense...it was inside.” Sasuke nods to it. “...that’s where Itachi was sitting when I walked in.”

“...he really did go all out…”

Flashes of his brother’s behavior flicker through Sasuke’s mind. “...he kept up the charade until the very end. I thought he’d just lost it right before he died, saying what he said...doing what he did. I wasn’t...exactly in the best frame of mind at that point, either.”

Hinata can’t help a sympathetic glance. “...no, I’d imagine not…”

It’s then Sasuke decides to just...elaborate about what happened that day. He points to where each stage of the battle took place, vaguely narrating from what he can recall. It’s been over five years, now...and yet being here makes it feel just like yesterday. And all the while, Hinata listens quietly, delving into a piece of her beloved’s past he’s avoided up until now. The recollection, she knows, can’t be easy. Itachi’s truth had to have made it hard enough...but having his brother returned to him must make living with those choices - not to mention all those years - more than difficult.

“...here.”

They come to a stop, having moved through the rubble as he spoke. Before them, a huge hunk of stone with an inlaid Uchiha crest lies, turned to one side. “...he pinned me here. I remember my back hitting the wall, looking up, seeing the crest...it really hit me that I was going to die. And then he just…”

Waiting for a moment, Hinata looks over as Sasuke’s silence stretches. “...he spared you.”

“...it was all a farce. To convince me I’d outlasted him. Killed him. All while letting himself finally succumb to illness...he freed me from my curse seal. Set everything up so that I could walk away with a clear conscience. My revenge. My body. And then Obito subverted all his work.”

“...would you have gone back to Konoha then? If Obito hadn’t found you?”

“...I don't know. It had been my plan to go back eventually. But I don’t know if I would have felt satisfied at that point. I might have needed time first. But...it doesn’t really matter. I’ll never know. And as...convoluted as my path ended up...I think it was for the best. It led to my brother’s revival. I don’t know if he could have been if things hadn’t gone the way they did. My life isn’t perfect...and there’s no taking away what I suffered. But...I’m on a better path. I have a better future ahead of me now. I have a few pieces of my family back, and a few new ones…” Sasuke turns to her, lips lifting in just a hint of a smile. “...including you.”

Hinata softens. “...you’re right. No more what-ifs. Just what-will-bes. And we’ll face them all together.”

“...I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As though hearing their words, a few dapples of sunlight manage to filter through the clouds.

“...should we head back?”

“We should. I’m sure everyone’s wondering where we went.”

“...will we tell them?”

“We might as well. I think I’m done letting this hang over me. Over us. Time to move forward.”

“I agree.” Taking Sasuke’s hand, Hinata gently tugs him back toward the main staircase, giving the view from on the hill one last glance before they make their way down.

Behind them, the sunrays glitter over the Uchiha crest before growing, bathing the ruins in a new light.

     AHHH!!! A whole month down, omggg! I'm so psyched guys - this month has just...FLOWN by! Technically I'm posting this after midnight, so a little late (like...most entries are), BUT! I didn't miss a SINGLE DAY! Let's see if I can keep it up for the rest of the year, ahaha!      ANYWAY, this prompt threw me a little bit. I almost went with something FAR angstier, but...I figured this was somber enough. Poor Sasuke...coming back here isn't easy. But I think he feels a lot better for having done so. Especially since he didn't have to go alone.      But yes, on that note, I really need to call it a night here pretty soon - but as always, thank you SO much for reading! One month down...eleven to go!