#he did admit later that his situation was extremely difficult but he also admitted he should have never done what he did

[hellsslibrary]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚NSFW Alphabet with Leona Kingscholar˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

DNI : minors.

!!Warnings : sub!bottom!Leona, male reader, breeding kink, tail play(?), oral, bratty behavior, toys, cockwarming, marking, very vague reference to somnophilia.

Ruggie <————«« Leona »»————> Floyd.

Savanaclaw. Leona Kingscholar.

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

He falls asleep. Did you expect another? He sleeps most of his day, it is obvious that he will fall asleep after sex, because he is especially tired than usual. Although, if he is especially kind today, he will still make sure you are satisfied. And if you're not, he might even let you fuck him while he sleeps.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your thighs. Again, what did you expect? He can sleep on them, he can sit on them, he can squeeze them like an anti-stress, he can leave hickeys and bites on them, and between them is your most delicious part. Obviously he loves it.

In himself... This is his body, yes. Especially his muscles and maybe scars. He likes to show off with them, obviously because he doesn't show them often.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

He has very thick cum, I don't know why, I just have a feeling that he cums a little more than average and yes ... Heck, it's also a little more salty than usual.

He doesn't care where you end up. Because in almost all situations you will have to wash it, so washing your and his sperm is your problem only. But he still prefers when you cum inside him. He likes this feeling of fullness and warmth (literally) inside him.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Well... He gets excited when he sees you angry. He is the most ordinary brat, although he is a pillow princess / pillow prince, but still. Leona loves this expression of anger or passive aggression in your voice, and especially in your eyes if you are not too emotional. It turns him on extremely, especially if you are angry with him. Although once he realizes that you are mad at him and he realizes that he will be punished later and he will probably have to do something on his own... He wants to sleep and pretend it didn't happen, it was a dream, lol.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

I think he's one of the few non-virgins. True, I doubt that he had too hectic sex life. Just a few short flings. But he fully understands what he does and how he does it... Although it seems to me that he was never at the bottom, because it hurt his pride too much earlier, and I guess it would be difficult to persuade him to become a bottom, but he equally quickly agreed as long as you weren't noisy and he liked it, but probably more due to the fact that almost always it means less work.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Fuck, it's cowgirl/reverse cowgirl! As much as he doesn't want to lift his lazy ass once again, he will still (probably) never refuse if you want him to ride you. He loves that feeling of control he has over you in these positions and it's very satisfying for him in every way.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I don't know for sure, but I think he's generally not very talkative during sex. Although if he talked more, he would lean towards the more humorous side due to his love of teasing and pissing you off.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn't really care about his hair there, but since he's a prince (there's a pubic hair etiquette, no kidding), he shaves it off from time to time when it grows to a certain length and starts prickling his skin. The color of the carpet is exactly the same as on the drapes, although they are much more curly on the carpet.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's surprisingly romantic. Although he will never admit it and will not openly show it. But he loves to hug you, his tail wraps around some part of your body unconsciously, he loves light kisses and all that.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He does it often, like really often. True, he probably does this out of boredom and before going to bed (which is exactly a dream, not a nap). He just puts his hand in his underpants, pulling out his cock, quickly masturbates and falls asleep satisfied (having cleaned before that of course ... Well, more precisely, after wiping his hand and cock, yes).

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Well... Breeding kink? You can't stop me from saying this every fucking time. I just want to fertilize them. Ahem, ahem, what are we talking about? He just wants your cum in him as he sighs sweetly as you keep filling him up over and over again. Cockwarming. He probably sleeps with your cock inside him from time to time, so it's not surprising. Um, I would say markings? Like... He's very possessive. So after having sex with him, you will be walking around with hickeys / bites, possibly bruises and scratches from his hands all over your body.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He doesn't care. You can take him anywhere you want, and he'll make you take him anywhere he wants (although he won't insist if you're uncomfortable, of course). But the comfortable bed is his favorite place, it's obvious.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He is surprisingly very easily aroused. Any careless touch or phrase from you can cause a sudden excitement in him (but not a boner yet). So if you push it a little further and keep pushing it, it will definitely pull you into some closet.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

First, of course, never, I repeat never, do not somehow indicate his royal origin. I don't think I need to explain why. And secondly, do not pay much attention to someone else, especially to some particular dragon fae, besides him, he is extremely jealous.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Definitely receive. He loves to lie on his back while you suck him off/eat him out. So he will just put his hand on your head and whisper praises and some nice words to you.

I believe he is also quite willing to please you if you wish, although he will certainly grumble before doing so, but will do so without argument. And he's extremely good at blowjob, I guess I should mention that, so I guess you can consider those rare moments as a reward.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Something slow but rough. Deep, sharp, but rare thrusts, yes. He loves that rare pace where you slowly come out and then abruptly insert your entire length, poking into his prostate, which is why he is always grabbing for something.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Yes, he's all for it. He sees no reason why not. Although obviously loves regular sex more. But you often have quickies since he's a very busy person actually, apparently sleeping somewhere in the Botanical Garden right now.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Well... Yes, he is quite yes. While he'll probably act proud if you suggest something too perverted for his taste, he's easily broken by saying something like "Afraid?"

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He has too much stamina, like really huge. 15-22 rounds? Kind of, yes. He has an impossibly high libido, and his stamina makes it even more unbearable, although pleasant, of course.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He has a couple of dildos, but nothing more than that. He just sometimes uses them to make it easier or vice versa to complicate his task to finish. Although he will use anything if you offer it to him, whether on himself or on you.

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

He hates when you tease him, he's so damn impatient and he'll get so annoying even though it hasn't even been five minutes if you do. But at the same time, he loves to tease you by riding you more slowly or faster, depending on the situation, moving his fingers/toys around some parts of your body and so on.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Like 1/10, he's the quietest in all of Twisted Wonderland, I guess. Kind of true, just low sighs and maybe lowing, but nothing too loud. It takes a hell of a lot of work to make him seriously moan, imp.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

He loves when you pull his tail. Gently, of course. But he loves it when you fuck him and tug on his tail as he wags in pleasure quickly and impulsively, coiling around your arm and wrist.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

He has a great body! Muscular, polished, but at the same time slender! A few scars here and there too. His cock... 7 inches somewhere/17,7 cm. His cock is circumcised and he is slightly tilted forward.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Incredibly strong and high libido. He wants you every nanosecond and your cock in him. He wants you always, everywhere, regardless of circumstances, time, people and nothing at all.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fell asleep afterwards)

Very easy. He falls asleep almost immediately. You can turn away for a couple of seconds and then hear him snort and softly snore when you find that he is sleeping again and you have to wash him again lol.

[linkemon]

Dancing headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Consider supporting me on Ko-fi.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

Sebek Zigvolt

• Sebek has no time for dancing. He is always busy serving his master. That doesn't mean he can't do it. Of course he can! What a disgrace he would be if he did not have such a basic skill for a knight! Lilia taught him when he was a small child.

• It was for this reason that Zigvolt didn't think about dancing much. Until he returned to Briar Valley with Malleus for one of the major holidays. He didn't expect that you would also be invited along with Grim to his home country. Though he could have predicted it, given your good acquaintance with the future king.

• When he saw that you had been named the guest of honour at the grand banquet at the palace, he thought something was flashing before his eyes. Lilia laughed softly at him, explaining that this was what Malleus had wished.

• Sebek stood for some time, looking at you as you hesitantly entered the room. This might have been one of the few times in his life that he was at a loss for words. Even more so when it came time to choose a partner to lead the traditional first dance. As you approached him, he was sure you were heading towards Silver. After all, he really was a great dancer, apart from the times he fell asleep mumbling steps. When you reached out to him with a question, he replied stiffly that he accepted the mission, to which you responded with laughter.

• He gave his all. He couldn't bring shame to the prince! But that doesn't mean he would let you fail if it wasn't the case. Lilia joked about his expression and how he fell silent for the rest of the evening for the following weeks.

• It's been a long time since that dance but he still thinks about it from time to time. Especially when he later realized that he had been telling you off for missing steps almost all the time. If he could, he would turn back time and enjoy the sight of you in your ball gown, twirling in his arms.

Azul Ashengrotto

• While music is a large part of life and culture for underwater creatures, dancing is not necessarily so. Azula's relationship with dancing was similar to that associated with flying on a broom - laying and crying.

• When you agreed to sign a contract to lend your voice and sing at Monstro Lounge, he was extremely pleased with himself. The number of students, and therefore the profit, has increased significantly since he started organizing evenings with music and you as the main singer.

• One time you decided to stay longer and help him close the place for the night. He didn't expect you to grab his hand while singing a slow song and start swaying slowly to the melody. You didn't comment on how obvious it was that Azul couldn't dance, which he was grateful for.

• It crossed his mind to get out of this unfamiliar situation as quickly as possible but he loved listening to your voice too much to actually do it. So he let you wrap your arms around his neck and continued.

• He would love to do it again someday, but at the same time not feel so miserable about his skills. He made it his mission to learn to dance behind your back. Once it is perfect, he will recreate the exact same situation and you will be very surprised. However, it will still take him some time...

Jamil Viper

• Dancing is one of the few activities in which Jamil does not inhibit himself as much as in others. When you asked him to teach you some choreography after the SDC performance, he agreed. Although he was sure that if you had asked about it before you got to know each other better, he would have refused, saying that he didn't have time because he had to take care of Kalim.

• You had to admit that you were impressed with the amount of dance moves he showed you. You were afraid that breakdancing would be too difficult for you but with the help of your friend, you learned some basic modern dance steps. It all went downhill from there.

• He had a lot of patience with you. Maybe he even showed you too much for a first lesson but somewhere inside him there was a selfish need to arouse at least a bit of admiration in you, something he didn't experience on a daily basis and even tried to avoid. The light in your eyes and the touch of your hands as he showed you some of his moves followed him for a long time.

• What was supposed to be just one lesson turned into an entire dance course. You weren't very good but it didn't matter. Spending time with Jamil like this was one of the most enjoyable moments of each week for you.

[noxer]

«Unmasked»

Okay, i'm gonna try. I hope this is not that bad. Uhh, Soundwave/Blaster, some sort of fluff, something about a border where masks don't matter anymore, so it doesn't matter whether the mask is off or not, so why bother taking it off at all?

/awkward curtsy/

______________________________

"Question: Blaster wants to see Soundwave's face?"

It wasn't a question Soundwave would have asked under normal circumstances, but he had to admit that their situation was never normal. It also definitely didn't get easier with the onset of... the truce (he can't bring himself to say the word "peace", and it's not even a matter of Decepticon pride, it's just... it was difficult to realize until now). An intimacy that oscillates on the border with invasive, an understanding that could usually be shared only with own reflection, this whole set of things that does not allow one to relate each other to the usual one-sided categories of “enemies”, “friends” or “lovers”. This is difficult, there is not enough intelligence and experience here, you need faith in your own actions, hope for a favorable outcome, everything that the third-in-command did not have the right to rely on.

However, this is not the only reason. The thing is, Soundwave basically never asks questions. He doesn't need it. He always knows the answer in advance, relying on his own espionage skills or slightly more straightforward telepathy. But he doesn't want to read Blaster's mind right now. Perhaps later, when he gives an answer, and Soundwave can understand how ready he is to lie to him.

In addition, direct questions are much simpler and more effective than trying to unravel other bot's hints, semi-gestures and EMF’s vibrations, small signals emanating from the body, like a special type of code. Soundwave is a master codebreaker, but even he makes mistakes, and this is not a situation where he wants to make a one.

That's why he asks.

Blaster turns his head towards him, looking interested with bright blue optics. An almost tangible curiosity emanates from his body, mixed with playfulness and something less understandable. The Autobot is intelligent, although not the type of intelligence that any Decepticon is accustomed to. There is no cunning in him, no ability to anticipate someone else's shot before it leaves a hole in your back, no tenacious paranoid attentiveness. However, Blaster was not so easily fooled. He has cracked his codes, exposed false broadcasts and lured data out of databases for centuries. The fool couldn't handle this. The fool would have died on the day of his appointment as an officer. Blaster was no fool. Emotions might cloud his vision at times, but at the same time they gave him insight that was only occasionally surpassed by his own uncanny empathy.

Soundwave doesn't know what Blaster will answer, but he already knows that the answer will not disappoint him.

“I don’t know,” the Autobot’s deep voice purrs with attractive vibrations, “Do you want me to see?”

Soundwave's spark ignites. As he had expected, the other person's answer was extremely... interesting.

Blaster knows him. He knows from so many facets, in some places, perhaps understanding more about him than Soundwave himself understood. This happens when your lives repeatedly find themselves in each other's hands in so many different ways. One secret more, one secret less, it wouldn't matter anymore, not for them. But still...

He moves closer, enough to touch another bot, feeling the static spark between the bright scarlet plates and his own fingers. Blaster's hand almost simultaneously touches his mask. And nothing more. Soundwave feels the warm weight, the texture of worn metal and the faint electricity, but that's about it. There is not a single attempt to open hidden locks or remove the mask. Just a gentle, comforting touch.

He would allow his face to be revealed. He would.

But he's glad he doesn't have to.

He's glad that his secrets can remain secrets without tarnishing what was between him and Blaster (whatever that was after all).

Soundwave leans closer to the palm, absorbing its soft warmth under the autobot's quiet laughter.

[blugnettabutterflies]

This comes with spoilers for Criminal Case: The Conspiracy

(mainly after case 60. Also a TW for medical talk and a lot of injuries and scarring burns.)

So I finally decided to put together an Injury Chart for Jones for what happens in Blaze of Glory. Because I am so damn sure that he didn't just walk away with the repercussions that he got. It must have been way more and I am here to give it.

With that said, this is my personal interpretation of the situation, and screw canon!

Here, the full body picture

And now, some headcanons where I'll explain my position on this situation!

He didn't wake up that same night when he was admitted. There is a possible reason he could have been woken up and it was because of evacuation, but they didn't do it in the end. Maybe they kept him semiconscious to not risk a lot of brain damage since the injuries are bad. I supposed that he was put back to sleep for the next 3 or so days completely and maybe a bit more. He woke up after 5 days or a week. He still gets brain damaged (ill explain more down)

Speaking of injuries, the burns took almost 60-70% of his body, especially on the front side and the face. The face burns were from 2nd to 3rd, as well as the torso and up side of the legs and mainly the right arm. The left arm and downside on the legs were second degrees mostly. That's why he was in a lot of pain as said by Cathy.

Also, he had to undergo a lot of surgeries. Not only to amputate his eye but also a brain/skull surgery had to be gone because he hit his skull BADLY on some rocky furniture, since the blast sent him flying away. Other surgeries were made around the broken bones, essentially on ribs, arms, and legs. Luckily none of the vertebral bones were cracked, so it means that he can walk.

The surgeon also put him some skin graphs at the most injured parts and that procedure lasted for some months.

Another surgery that was done on him (as you can see in the picture) was a hair transplant.

Around the brain damage side of things, the blast caused him to have some alteration in his cognition. Not completely severe to the point that he to be dependent forever, but some sensation weakness, as well as mobility and mainly voluntary movement, which is what causes his prolonged paralysis mainly on his right side. He found it difficult to manipulate object with hsi right hand and to stand for a big amount of time, another reason of why he uses the cane. Additionally, he experienced speech and concentration difficulties.

What Gabriel informed Cathy was true. The surgeon and the staff who took his case had no idea if he was going to make it through the night. In fact, this was because, when they were operating on him, his vitals were fluctuaring a lot. He flat-lined once, and while he recovered quickly from that one, it was a sign that he was a delicate patient. Also, they were in the middle of the neohuman rampage, so there was even more of a risk. The staff sighed of relief when they saw Jones' brain activity actually responding to stimuli after a few days.

Around the topic of walking, due to the blast, he pretty much wasn't able to walk properly anymore. Not only because of the muscle weakness that this caused, but also because the waist bones had a hit too, and walking for big amounts of time causes some pain at first. He was in a way unable to move, on a wheelchair for the first 6 months. He is going to Physical and Occupational Therapy daily to go up some stairs. He was probably able to walk with a roller a few days after the 6 months, only in days when he felt confident. He started to use a cane after a year or so. He permanently uses it.

In fact, I am not sure if he actually made it to the memorial. He either woke up when the memorial was happening or he wasn't allowed to go due for the risk. If he went however, he was extremely supervised. As soon as it was over (or even before that), he was back at the hospital. He did go to Amir and Jasper's wedding 5 months later though, still in a wheelchair to not cause an accident.

Other injuries from the blast also include injuries on the eardrums, which caused audition alterations. He has now moderate to severe deafness on his right side and mild to moderate deafness on his left. He does use hearing aids (sometimes he forgets to take them out in his sleep).

Also, around his still functioning eye, while it's not damaged completely, he has problems with vision perception, making the walking part even more difficult. Actually, all of the tasks he does are difficult because of that at first.

Around the mental health side of things, during the rehabilitation process, his emotions were swinging around. He needed... A LOT OF HELP ON THAT. He was lucky that there was a therapist who decided to take his case and was able to receive all the punches and breakdowns.

There were a lot of nightmares. And I'm telling you. A lot. Of them. He would wake up in sweat and major pain. They became easier to handle with time.

The first time he saw himself in the mirror was... an experience to say the least. He saw himself and cried a lot, to the point that he had to be comforted for a few minutes. It took him a while to adjust. He knew it was his face, but he hated it a lot at first.

Before seeing his face, the visits were very secluded to best fiends and family members. Since his coworkers at the precint were his "family" he would allow their visits. After seeing his face, the visits were reducing by his own command. He was ashamed of himself for a bit.

Still, the team was eager to make him company. Despite him sometimes rejecting the visitations, when he accepted them, he found that it was a nice time. Their reassurance and news about the outside world would motivate him to recover so he could feel it himself.

Another thing that motivated him (or better off, someone) was Zoe. When he was able to move his hands and handle things for a while, he would read almost daily the letter he received back when he was hospitalized from his attempt. It gave him a boost, thinking that she would like for him to still try. It's a good pick me up. (If he couldn't he would ask someone to read it from her. Aside from other letters the team found in the meantime.)

But his big breakthrough was a bit later. He originally was going to have an eye prosthetic, and he was so sure of it... until he got a visitation from his sibling's family, where his nephew told him that he looked like a pirate with the eyepatch. He liked the idea of being something not as scary as he thought. And he, while the eye prosthetic was tempting, he denied it for the moment.

That gesture gave him a complete change of perspective to a more positive one, and the rehabilitation process was actually working even better. He was a pirate in that kid's eyes. So he may just commit to the bit.

After being discharged, he lived in various houses with Astrid to avoid being alone, until he could back on his feet. Sometimes he stayed at Gabriel's, other times at Ramirez's, Parker's, and occasionally at Player's house. During the first few months after his discharge however, he mainly stayed at Ramirez's house, where he and his family had a spacious room prepared for him with a great view.

Since he was on a medical leave for months, he took other activities that caught his eye (not pun intended) and his body would allow. He actually retook his reading hobby from it.

He actually took care of himself. He still attended the therapy sessions, he even went to a support group dedicated to survivors of deadly situations. He met a lot of people and he didn't feel lonely. And saw that there was more life than his job.

At first, he was so eager to come back to work and be useful and worth it. After rehabilitation and the support groups, he started to doubt, until he finally decided that he deserved a more calm life. And with that, he retired. He doesn't regret it. He keeps contact with the rest of the precinct. He still attends to their birthdays.

And he's happy. After all, limping sometimes, and even with some nightmares, he was overall, happy.

And there you have it! Screw canon my boy is disabled!

[seriousbrat]

Do you find it difficult to write for Peter? I imagine it's hard to find the right balance in his characterization, especially considering people will be expecting him to be either totally useless and hated by the group or being totally equal and adored. I do think you do it very well though, he seems pretty realistic and in character imo

Ooh thank you so much for saying so! I really love this question.

The answer is sort of, sometimes! Honestly I don't find his voice difficult at all, I really enjoy writing him, but what I think can be a struggle with Peter is that he isn't a character that (initially) moves the plot along, compared to the others. He follows his friends, he trails behind, he's generally a passive character, so it's hard to give him active things to do within a story. I understand why people have a hard time knowing what to do with him, and either make him exit stage left during most scenes or just kind of eternally hover in the background lol. I know I've done that myself, and honestly, even though I think it was okay in part 2, it's part 3 where his arc really started to come together for me.

I'm obviously talking about the Hogwarts years here, since post-Hogwarts he has a pretty clear arc-- so during the Hogwarts years, it's all about setting up that arc, building up his motivations and foreshadowing his eventual betrayal. The way I see it he's already starting to do things that are basically small-scale versions of the betrayal, but because these actions are so minor they go completely unnoticed by the rest.

In my fic the first major turning point for Peter is during a Death Eater attack in their sixth year, when he turns into a rat and escapes, abandoning his friends who he knows are desperately trying to find him. This is never revealed to the rest of them, and Peter is at this early stage developing a habit of running from conflict and lying to his friends. During his seventh year he feels isolated from his friends and starts spending more time on his own as a rat, even failing to show up for his NEWT and lying about it later-- and in many ways that avoidance of real life is more comfortable for him. Obviously, the most extreme version of avoiding real-life consequences in this way is when he frames Sirius and then spends 12 years living as a rat.

He's terrified-- of losing his friends, of rejection, of failure, of the war-- and yet his fear is shameful to him, because cowardice is considered shameful by the in-group (Sirius and James) so he can't admit it to anyone or really face up to it. Instead he avoids it until it's too late, and then he avoids it some more by turning traitor and then by framing Sirius, then by running to Voldemort, etc etc until his death. It's almost like he's constantly in survival mode and always looking for a way out, while finding himself in situations that he feels are beyond his control but are really a result of his own avoidance.

Personally I did struggle a bit thinking of ways for Peter to move the story along or specific plot points for him during the Hogwarts years, basically ways to make him relevant, but overall I knew he was going to start unraveling early on. Peter's arc is initially very internal, nobody is ever aware of what's truly going on with him so unlike others it's difficult to tie his arc to the main plot-- but at the same time he's very observant, so he's a good vehicle through which to view other characters. He is constantly taking in information and thinking hard about that information, more than anyone else realises, which makes him a very good spy.

It can be difficult to find a balance with Peter though! As you mentioned, his standing in the group is tricky to get right, because it's somewhere between an idyllic, equal friendship and total rejection. They care about him, he is a member of their group, but they can also be disparaging, and they have no idea what's going on with him internally. They aren't consciously overlooking him, but he gets overlooked all the same. I don't think this kind of dynamic is that uncommon in real life tbh.

[prodigal-explorer]

loyal - an omori au summary

this is the breakdown of an omori au that i've decided to call the loyalty au, and it's based off of a mixture of ideas that me and my homies (@legendling and @electriczaire) came up with!!

(cw -> murder, omori spoilers, extreme manipulation, mcd)

this is a sort of swap au in which kel accidentally kills hero instead of sunny accidentally killing mari, but there is a twist in the course of events that completely alters the fate of kel and the friend group.

a few days after sunny and mari's recital, kel and hero get into an argument over something silly. but the argument escalates when their parents step in and, as always, take hero's side.

the constant favoritism towards hero finally gets to kel in that moment, and he storms off. hero rushes after him in an attempt to make amends, but kel misinterprets his intentions, and pushes him down the stairs in a fit of anger. hero dies on impact.

just like in the original story, basil is the only one who witnesses the murder. he was at the house for a sleepover. basil comes up with the idea to frame hero's death as a suicide, and he convinces kel to go along with it by telling him that the alternative is kel going to jail and losing all his friends. kel agrees.

but two weeks later, at hero's funeral, kel can't handle lying about something so huge, seeing mari blame herself, seeing the group start to fall apart. so he comes clean. he admits that he killed hero and staged the suicide. but he doesn't say basil's involvement in the situation because he's too held up with his own guilt and his own involvement.

kel expects everything basil said to come true, but mari, sunny, and aubrey forgive kel. it's clear that it was an accident, and it's obvious how much pain kel is in.

but forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting. everyone is uncomfortable around kel, and there is an inevitable, understandable resentment towards kel. the group is awkward, and they tend to exclude kel from things for the sake of their own comfort.

and to make matters worse, the people who take kel's confession the worst are his parents. they despise kel for what he did to their favorite child, and they essentially abandon him emotionally, leaving him to endure this extremely difficult point of his life all by himself. they no longer include him during mealtimes, and when he's around them, they ignore him. they don't even yell at him anymore. it's cold, dead silence.

the only person who still treats kel the same is basil, or so we think. everyone assumes that it's because basil is so sweet and kind, but really, it's because basil is the only one who knows the full truth.

basil is desperate. upon seeing how kel is treated in the friend group and by his family, he realizes that he doesn't want the same thing to happen to him. he begs kel to keep his secret, and ends up manipulating him out of fear. he tells kell that if he tells the group about basil's involvement, then nobody would believe him, and everyone would abandon him.

so kel keeps the secret. but as we all know, kel hates secrets and lies. but he also hates betraying his friends. so now he's in a huge inner conflict between his two biggest values: honesty and loyalty. does he honor his honesty and tell the group the whole truth? or does he honor his loyalty and keep basil's reputation safe?

on top of this, kel realizes that he heavily disagrees with basil's extreme actions of deception, and he hates the position that basil has put him in, making him entirely responsible for basil's fate. but what is he able to do about it? basil is basically the only reason why kel hasn't been completely phased out of the friend group, and basil has so much control over how the group views kel. so he's trapped with basil, forced to endure him with no complaints.

after all, sweet, innocent, kind basil is much more likable and pitiful than loud, annoying, murderer kel.

i hope you guys enjoy this au!! i'm very new to the fandom so if something like this has been made before please don't flame me, i didn't know! feel free to comment with any questions you have about the au, and i'd love to answer them!!! i really want to do something with this, maybe a fanfic or something!

[cocogum]

Why don’t the turtles just use cloaking brooches??

It’s clear to say that the brothers in a half shell can be excruciatingly horrible at concealing their presence when fighting out of the sewers.

As much as we’d like to think that they’re experts at hiding in broad daylight or during nighttime, we can’t help but admit that in most of those times, they have either been unnoticed by sheer luck or have simply encountered some humans who seem to somehow not question their looks.

Sure, it must be extremely difficult to hide some parts of themselves while fighting in front of the public so some instances where they’ve been caught couldn’t have been avoidable.

But in some cases, there shouldn’t have been any excuses.

Whenever one of the brothers (or all of them) decides to go outside for whatever reason, they somehow do not catch any attention to themselves when an errand goes horribly wrong or if they simply would like to hang out away from the sewers for a change.

This is surprisingly not the issue here.

The new yorkers are just unaware for some reason.

No, the real problem here is why don’t the turtles use cloaking brooches.

Ever since I watched the thirty-first (18A) episode named “Operation: Normal”, I began to wonder why the turtles did not adopt the newest method of concealment.

In this episode, April desperately wishes to at least have a normal day without anything abnormal ruining it.

Leo, who opposes that idea of hers, claims that that “dream” would be impossible to grant since she has always been a huge magnet for craziness.

He also adds to his explanation that he, along with the rest of his brothers, cannot bring her to any human places due to how they physically look.

That last comment of his piqued my interest.

Because as soon as Leo bursts her bubble, she, later on, meets a young Yōkai by the name of Sunita who is inconspicuously hiding her true appearance thanks to a mystic brooch.

When the trio for this episode learns that the new girl was non-human this whole time, they learn that her disguise was actually done by a cloaking brooch which is a mystic device capable of hiding its user’s true appearance.

After meeting the slime Yōkai, you’d think that the turtles would have learned that there is a better way to completely mask themselves from the public and can now use the same mystic brooches to easily roam around the outside world with no difficulties.

Well… that’s not what they did.

They still proceeded as normal and kept hiding in clothes to hide their skins.

So in other words, even when they found an easier way to hide their appearances from the general public, they still chose to stick with the old method.

The fact that the Hamato family kept their old ways and did not even attempt to at least test one brooch bothered me so much.

There were so many instances in both seasons where I could have practically screamed my ears off at the fact that some situations could have been avoided if they had some of those brooches.

And so, I wondered if there was even a point to all of this.

Why would the turtles deliberately not choose an easier way of disguising themselves?

This question started popping up in my head from time to time until I finally came up with two reasons why the green idiots don’t use them.

1) They would lose their iconic images

I am aware that if the turtles did adopt that way of camouflage, then it wouldn’t feel like we would be watching TMNT anymore since their struggles with avoiding attention have always been a key factor in their characters.

Not to mention that it’s always entertaining to see what kind of clothes they’d pick to hide in.

Due to this problem, I would understand from a fan’s point of view why the story hasn’t taken this route.

On another hand, however, making the brothers use some magic brooches from time to time wouldn’t necessarily ruin their iconic images since Rise! did change some elements about the world like the existence of Yōkais, Draxum and Big Mama being two of the turtles’ enemies, Karai being their ancestor, a younger version of Baxter Stockman known as Stockboy, Splinter’s past, the Purple Dragons being evil tech teens, the Hidden City, and so much more.

Because it’s extremely odd to see no one in the Hamato family talk once about the possibility of using cloaking brooches as a practical technique.

Of course, I’m not suggesting that they should use cloaking brooches at all times since I would personally miss their old-school ways.

They could be able to at least only use cloaking brooches during hangouts.

But at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt to at least make an episode exploring this topic.

A part of me would like this since I would want to see what they’d look like if they took human forms.

That is IF they take human forms.

2) The cloaking brooches might change them into their original forms

The thing about these four mutant turtles that separates them from any normal mutant, is the fact that they weren’t human before they got mutated.

Mutants like Meat Sweats, Splinter, the Sando brothers, Warren Stone, the DIGG band, Ghostbear, Hypno-Potamus, Stanley, Repo Mantis, and Todd Capybara all used to be human before receiving the injection.

We all know that a cloaking brooch is used to cover the true appearance of its user but the way it hides the true form of the individual is rather odd.

For humans who get turned into mutants, the cloaking brooch will hide their current mutant appearances in the way that they used to look like when they were human.

Mutants like Meat Sweats and the Sando brothers are examples of this phenomenon.

For Yōkais, the cloaking brooch will hide their true forms with a human appearance that matches their physique OR it might just hide the original body with an object like a toy.

Yōkais like Sunita and Draxum are examples of this situation.

As for actual animals who get turned into mutants, the ability of the cloaking brooch seems to be blurry.

We don’t really know what could happen if mutated animals use a cloaking brooch since we’ve never actually seen a case like this one happening in the series before.

The objective of the cloaking device is to conceal the supernatural facade and replace it with a normal appearance.

So if the turtles and other mutated animals like Piebald were to ever use this mystic device, the chances of turning into their original animal forms or humans would be a 50/50 scenario.

This means it would be possible for mutated animals to have the appearance of what they once were (in addition to the brooch pinned on them) or to look like full-fledged humans.

This could also explain why the Hamato family doesn’t seem to be trying out the brooches: it might be impossible for them to appear normal because they are a special case so they do not want to risk it.

.

.

.

To conclude, we have two possibilities as to why they probably don’t use cloaking brooches.

The first is because the rottmnt team simply wouldn’t let the turtles use those in case they’d lose their iconic appearances.

The second is because there is a 50/50 chance that if they use cloaking brooches, then it might not work exactly like how they had thought it would.

However, there is a third possibility.

Third, the turtles are huge idiots for not using the best solution right at their disposal and are wasting a good opportunity to hang out in the open with their human friends.

(Ngl I legit think this is an actual possibility cuz these turtles act like imbeciles every five seconds-)

Those options seem plausible and easy to believe but it’s clear to see that we’ll most likely never get a straight answer from the rottmnt team regarding this topic.

(Btw u have no idea how hard I wanted to bash my head on a table ever since I saw Mikey buy Draxum a cloaking brooch to hide him from the Hidden City police. LIKE THE GUY KNEW ABOUT THOSE MYSTIC DEVICES THAT COULD HELP HIM AND HIS FAMILY ROAM OUTSIDE BUT NOOO THE DUMBASS DOESN’T THINK TWICE ABOUT IT AND JUST WASTES HIS MONEY BUYING ONLY ONE.)

[i-sveikata]

I am in love with your fiction. I reread it on repeat while waiting for the new chapter each time. I'm impressed how Pete progressed in accepting his desire for Vegas and asking at the very moment Vegas decided he wouldn't make any moves towards him. It was like an electro shock. And also he admitted to Porshe and Tankun that he has feelings for Vegas! My heart ! I can't wait for the rest of its development! Also, even if it apparently was due to insomnia, are you leaving any clues that Vegas is suffering from depression? I don't know, reading the last chapter, I felt Vegas more and more trapped in his father's grip despite him always wanting to put Pete first. His father no longer seems to even hide the fact that he enjoys discreetly making him suffer in public and I felt Vegas was completely helpless in this situation. He seems completely at the mercy of his father's toxic and vicious cycle of loving him and seeking his attention while never validating any attack on Pete. It's like his dad could do anything to him and all he cares about is that he doesn't hurt Pete. In this chapter, it is clear and obvious that he does not care about his health, I really have the impression that Vegas is behind the curtains in a pattern of self-destruction due to his lack of self-esteem -even. Am I wrong? I have a feeling Vegas is going to have a mental breakdown soon and Pete is going to have to bring him back to his senses.

The psychology of your Pete and Vegas are so fascinating I could talk about it for hours

Ahhh thank you so much!!! Yeah I think it really hit Pete this chap and last just how serious Vegas was about this and they weren’t going to move forward unless it was by his choice. Plus talking with Porsche really helped give him that last push that lightning strike of ‘Vegas wins either way’ so it was always up to Pete to make the next move something that he wants and something he can live with without agonising, regretting or blaming himself later.

Yes we are definitely seeing hints that the situation is completely out of Vegas’ control with his father and though it may seem at times like everything works out for him, he’s largely trapped and always subject to his fathers whims. I’d say there were defs traces of his poor mental state in the last chapter and we can clearly see that he’s dissociating from his body and his injuries. What he did for Pete by wiping out most of the Italian mafia has left him feeling very vulnerable and out of control which is usually where he gets his sense of security from so I’d say yeah he is in kind of a bad way at the moment- which is what Pete picked up on!!!! That boy is slowly learning Vegas language and it’s super important that the first thing he did was try to take care of him- to not use that information to his advantage. Something I would say has happened a lot to Vegas in the past until he learned not to give himself away. Vegas does care about his health in the sense that he wants to remain strong and able and that he relies solely on himself, his strength, and his ruthlessness and his cunning to keep himself alive anything else beyond that I think he learned to disassociate as self preservation with his erratic and impossibly to predict father- a way to protect himself. Which is what’s also making this extremely difficult for him to handle- he can’t control how his father treats him but he has small tastes of power when he’s clever enough to work around him. But right now Vegas can’t rely on himself in the same way being so injured and so sleep deprived- he needs someone else to protect him. But he’s never had anyone else before. And neither has Pete! (I mean his grandma to some extent of course but not in the same way) I do think some of each other’s appeal to the other is that they can be callous and vicious and violent but they in turn see they’re strong enough to protect someone too. Strong enough to be somebody they could finally lean on. That’s a big deal for the both of them who’ve never really had that kind of luxury. And Pete spent a lot of time (unthinkingly of course) proving that he can be that person for Vegas.

Oh you are absolutely right we are going to see a huge emotional outburst from Vegas next chap with the coup! He’s torn between trying to obey his fathers wishes even if he can see the lack of foresight in the plans, and he wants to prove himself worthy whilst also making sure he doesn’t endanger Pete or totally ruin the life that he’s been living in the main family house. Vegas knows there’s the potential of him doing something Pete won’t ever forgive during the coup and that’s just too much pressure for someone like him to handle. Especially not still incapacitated like he is and running on low sleep. He’s kind of in a melting pot of emotional turmoil at the moment and you can bet that’s going to boil over once his father meets his untimely end.

Omg honestly me too!! That’s what got me into this fic the psychology of the both of them is truly so fascinating to me!! Very excited to see how it all comes together when I start writing the next chap!! 💜💜

[f1]

Car damage was much worse than team realised says Leclerc after retirement | 2023 Dutch Grand Prix

Charles Leclerc said he retired from the Dutch Grand Prix after his team discovered the damage he incurred on the first lap of the race was worse than they originally realised. The Ferrari driver tangled with McLaren’s Oscar Piastri at the start. Leclerc said his team initially estimated he’d lost up to 10 points of downforce, but they later realised it was more severe. “Already on the first lap when we had the damage, I could feel much more [deterioration] than the guys were telling me on the radio,” said Leclerc in response to a question from RaceFans. “I think initially it was five to 10 points, what I’ve been told, but obviously then we realised that it was more than 60, and more than 60 is a different category. So after the first lap it was all uphill.” Despite the early end to his race, Leclerc was pleased with how the team managed his strategy in the rain-affected race. “It was very tricky because you’re always changing from wet to dry, dry to wet,” he said. “So it makes things very difficult. “But on the other hand, it was the same for everybody. I think we actually managed today quite well the stops and the different strategies, but with 60 points less, there’s not much we could have done better.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free As he sank towards the rear of the field in his damaged car, Leclerc admitted he was “just waiting for some rain” in the final laps. A heavy shower eventually hit the track after he retired. “With some rain, obviously 60 [downforce] points less, it’s very tricky to drive a car with 60 points less in the rain, but it also adds a lot of chaos and you can do something different than others. “Maybe [get] one or two [championship] points, every point counts. So we didn’t want to give up too early, then we understood that the rain wouldn’t come – even though now it’s come – but it would have been too late anyway.” Leclerc lost some time when he pitted for intermediate tyres at the end of the first lap and Ferrari appeared not to be ready for him. However he said that was a result of him deciding very late to change tyres. “I did call for it in the last corner, so very late. But obviously looking at the situation in the last corner, I was sure that even if we had lost five or six seconds at the pit stop, we will recover them during one lap easily. “So I expected to lose some time. I think we could have optimised it as a team just for the guys to be ready a little bit earlier in those type of situations. But apart from that it was, I think, the right choice.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free However he admitted it had been a tough weekend for the team as the car hadn’t handle well prior to the grand prix. “In terms of results, obviously with a DNF like this, it’s not good,” he said. “It’s been extremely difficult. “In terms of balance, it is probably the most difficult weekend of the season, and driveability of the car. So we need to look into it because the last two or three races were getting better on that side of things and for some reason it worsened quite a lot this weekend.” Bringing the F1 news from the source RaceFans strives to bring its readers news directly from the key players in Formula 1. We are able to do this thanks in part to the generous backing of our RaceFans Supporters. By contributing 1 per month or 12 per year (or the equivalent in other currencies) you can help cover the costs involved in producing original journalism: Travelling, writing, creating, hosting, contacting and developing. We have been proudly supported by our readers for over 10 years. If you enjoy our independent coverage, please consider becoming a RaceFans Supporter today. As a bonus, all our Supporters can also browse the site ad-free. Sign up or find out more via the links below: 2023 Dutch Grand Prix Browse all 2023 Dutch Grand Prix articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://racefans.net/

[kuunibal]

No i never thought that a 20 yr old boy is pretending. That’s a reality (100% right as i know now) which I’ve been believing in confidently, without questioning, until now, when a few days back a new possibility hit me . I didn’t doubt by modifying what was right in front of me. What i did was i created a whole another reality that maybe it could also be an older man playing that part. Basically i made you a ‘role’, I never questioned your character. I do not at all think low of you, I’m actually sort of grateful you’re tolerating me. I have a strong tendency to question n doubt stuff now from past 2-3 yrs. Like how I thought you’re my guy in the beginning. It’s not the first time I’ve done this, i felt this on other pages too, few times when i chatted on omegle & sometimes i feel like even my phone or internet is hacked by him. Not only this, even at my home, like when my brother simply laughs, using his phone, i do feel like he’s laughing on me sometimes. I’ve created many crazy ‘reasonable’ possibilities to feel attacked. Even with my friends. I have a pattern. It’s all cuz of overanalysing things, making up meanings & then completely disregarding what’s right in front. And I think now I projected it all on you. On that yandere personality chart that you have, I’d slide twds ‘delusional’. If my ways of stopping my obsession (suppression, hating n all) led me to this, i don’t think I’m in a position to give advices to you. I’m sorry it never actually crossed my mind that maybe this could be working for you. That you’re a whole different person with diff wiring. Most importantly, with a different story. And that you have your own path & you know the best of your situation n what you’re doing. It’s crazy how unique everyone is. I realised quite a bit later that I sent you a problematic msg. Hence, that promise of never repeating that fixing thing again.

I apologise if I was a little harsh before, if it wasn't clear already, I have long since forgiven you. Your level of self-awareness is admirable, and not many people would be willing to admit that they made a mistake. It sounds extremely distressing to have to deal with those delusions/paranoia though. I imagine it is difficult to trust others at face value, and it's exhausting to be hypervigilant all the time with fearing your guy or questioning peoples' intentions.

[briamichellewrites]

84

briashinoda: Check out my interview with Dr Phil.

Bria was speaking out for the first time about her trauma. People assumed she had not experienced any trauma because she grew up with two extremely wealthy parents. Her first traumatic experience was when she was a toddler and diagnosed with leukaemia. She discussed how it impacted her parents. They were in a difficult financial situation because they were just starting out as doctors after completing medical school and residency. They were on the verge of divorce due to the stress caused by her illness.

They decided to seek professional help in order to save their marriage. She had little recollection of that because she was so young. She discovered the truth years later. She was developmentally behind other children due to chemotherapy treatments. She did not learn to crawl until she was four years old and was in remission.

She then learnt to walk and was potty trained. It was then discovered that she had coeliac disease and was allergic to meat. She was diagnosed with ADHD shortly after beginning school. Was there a history of mental illness in her family? Her father was diagnosed with bipolar disorder that developed late in life. He had been an emergency room physician for several years. It was an excellent job for him because he enjoyed working with the people he met and assisting patients and their families.

His team began to notice that he was not performing well. He made mistakes and got frustrated easily. Previously, he was relaxed and professional. Her mother insisted on having him evaluated by a mental health professional. He informed the medical board about his diagnosis as soon as he received it. He later decided to retire because he was afraid of losing his job.

"Even in retirement, he struggled with mental health issues. He was hospitalised for 72 hours due to suicidal ideation."

"Tell me about the accident."

"They were returning from the hospital when they were struck by a fleeing motorist. They both had significant internal injuries."

They were hospitalised for a few days before dying from their injuries. She was married at the time and a regular drug user. She paid them a visit in the hospital, but she eventually chose drugs over being with them. They gave her everything, and as she grew up, they became close. She was too selfish to be present when they died. Even years later, it remained her biggest regret.

Jon and his band were watching the interview. She was completely honest about everything. Rather than blaming others, she accepted complete responsibility. They found out she had been raped by her ex-husband's drug dealer. After being taken to the hospital by her brother-in-law, she underwent a sexual assault examination. When she got home, she immediately became high on heroin. Until then, she had been a "functioning addict." She went to work as a model every day and never appeared to be intoxicated.

Her rape served as her breaking point. After a shoot, she broke down in front of her manager and brother-in-law. They got her help by admitting her to rehab. How long was she there? She stayed for twelve months because she needed to process a lot of trauma.

"I was diagnosed with both PTSD and bipolar disorder. The first year was difficult because I had to get through everything without heroin."

“Are you still sober?"

“I am. I have not used drugs since 2003," she proudly declared.

"Congratulations. What helped you?"

"My brother-in-law, Mike. To help out, he moved in with my husband. Then he stayed for nearly ten years. He and his husband have been extremely encouraging. They also do not hesitate to hold me accountable."

She also discussed fighting cancer twice, being shot, and getting engaged to Brad. She had nothing but positive things to say about Brad when discussing their relationship and breakup. She wanted only the best for him. Were they still good friends? Oh, yes.

"We have an extremely strong friendship. We were together for nearly five years and shared many experiences. It is difficult to let go of someone after being with them for so long. I had actually texted him earlier about my new kitten, Happiness. I was telling him about the adorable things she was doing and sent him a photo. He has not responded yet, so I am going to have to get after him."

Dr. Phil laughed. He enquired about her tattoo. She extended her arm. Stronger than a bullet. The tattoo served as a reminder to her that she could make it through whatever came her way. What did she want for herself? Forgiveness. She wanted to be able to look herself in the eyes and apologise.

Did she want to get closure? She certainly did. Jon had a new love for her. He appreciated her candour and openness. They were involved in a long-distance affair. He confided in her about things he could not tell his wife. Stephanie, his daughter, was arrested for drug possession after overdosing on heroin at college. It broke him. He felt as though he had failed as a father. Bria helped him see that it was not his fault. He was extremely grateful for her. She was open and honest with him, which he appreciated.

As a rock star, he had plenty of people kissing his ass. He missed her. They planned to meet the next time he was in Los Angeles.

Jason also saw the interview. He was moved to tears because he was so proud of her! He could never be as strong as she was. He hoped to make things right with her again. Even if they did not remarry, he wished to keep her as his friend. He wanted to apologise to her for involving her in his drug use. While he was wiping his eyes, one of his coworkers asked him who she was.

"That is my ex-wife."

"Damn. How did you first meet her?"

He laughed. "Our families were great friends. She is even more amazing in person."

They discovered through the news that she had donated one million dollars to the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network. The non-profit operated the National Sexual Assault Hotline and the Department of Defence Safe Helpline, as well as programs to prevent sexual assault, assist survivors, and bring perpetrators to justice through victim services, public education, public policy, and consulting.

She wanted to donate more money, but her manager stopped her. A million dollars was more than sufficient. The president publicly acknowledged and expressed gratitude for her generous contribution. She had the means to give back because she was worth more than a billion. Happiness demanded attention while she was speaking with her manager in the living room. She picked her up and petted her, getting her to purr. Thank you, human.

You’re an amazing person. Never forget that. – Jon

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[amicidomenicani]

Question Dear Father Angelo, I opened your website and went on reading your responses to a wide array of questions, and I found a lot of consolation from them even though they were not directed to me. For this reason I am about now to open up my heart to your discernment. I lost my father to a lung tumor about ten months ago. Being a physician myself, I was the first to make the diagnosis, which was later confirmed by the instrumental tests which also revealed the severity of the condition (inoperability, terminal stage of the illness…).  From the very beginning I shared with my dad both the pain and the truth (within the limits of his acceptance, never telling him that his pain would grow worse, I never told him for instance that there was nothing the official medicine could do, and that he had two or three months to live; I tried to keep his hope alive, and we said to each other that we would face together whatever would come our way). Let me first say that because of my job I live in another town, and that my dad moved in with me at the time of the diagnosis, so he could continue with the diagnostic process and the treatment, which, sadly,  was only palliative.  I had the privilege to assist my dad through his weakness and frailty, with all the highs and lows that came from an extremely stressful situation. With the palliative treatment, associated with prayers and more natural supportive care (diet, medical herb extracts), “miraculously” the illness that had seemed to be unstoppable was eventually controlled and a chemotherapy session could be executed that improved somewhat his respiratory problems, and we managed to go on for nine months in fairly acceptable living conditions. During these months my dad drew closer to prayer, an often silent prayer because, being a man from the south, it was difficult for him to vocalize his thanksgiving to Our Lady with the rosary,  but I noticed that when it was time to say the rosary with us (me and my mother, who never stopped praying), even if he was lying in bed in the grips of the constant pain that began to torture him, he asked to be helped to the armchair and attended the rosary and the blessing given by the priest on TV, and then he went back to bed.  Eventually it became necessary to admit my dad into the hospital, the same one where I work, and in the last days of his earthly life, that unfortunately ended in the hospital, I know that he spoke with the priest there.  He talked with him about what weighed on his heart the most, and he looked more serene, and often sent for him. My dad died of a cause not directly related to his illness, because of a fall followed by a massive cerebral hemorrhage. The last day of his life, while I was dozing on and off, a voice woke me up telling me to run to the hospital because “that fall was not a trivial one, it was not the usual fall…” I heard this very clearly and rushed to the hospital long before the start of my shift. I could only see my father for a moment, he did not respond to me as usual; I had to diagnose a sudden cerebral condition, and I realized that we were close to his passing. I can’t describe the excruciating pain for the sudden separation that was to happen a few hours later; I watched over my father for about six hours, that’s how long his coma lasted, I couldn’t talk to him but I caressed his hands and face all the time, while I tried to impress in my memory his scent and his warmth, with tears running down my face, feeling my heart tear open; at three I heard the bell toll, and I remembered Jesus’s promise and started praying the chaplet of the divine mercy so that my father could be received in the arms of the merciful Jesus, and I immediately felt peace… the pain was still there but more “suave”, less like a boulder. I apologize for dwelling too much on this, but after some time I started having doubts that my father may not have had time to prepare for a good christian death with al

l the sacraments, I don’t know if he was able to confess and receive Jesus, and I wonder if it is OK to think that the fact that he accepted his pain with dignity (my father never swore at God for what happened to him, and even began developing an attachment to our mother Mary to whom he prayed to alleviate his pain) may have been instrumental in saving my dad’s soul… I always pray for him and ask to hear that he is fine and may come to see God’s face. What do you think, father Angelo? Did God’s Mercy save my dad? Thank-you. Priest’s answer Dear friend, 1. There is every reason to hope that your father was saved. He welcomed the priest and our Lord said “Whoever receives you, receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me” (Mt 10,40).. 2. He drew closer to prayer. And by drawing closer to prayer he grew closer to God. 3. He showed an attachment to our mother Mary, asking her to alleviate his pain. Who knows how many times he said “Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death”. Would our Lady, whose love for us exceeds that of all mothers in this world, not listen to him? 4. You recited the chaplet of the Divine Mercy at three, trusting in Jesus’s promise. Jesus’s promise is flattering: “It pleases Me to grant everything they ask of Me by saying the chaplet” (Diary 1541) “. Moreover: “Whoever will recite it will receive great mercy at the hour of death… Even if there were a sinner most hardened, if he were to recite this chaplet only once, he would receive grace from My infinite mercy” (Diary 687). 5. “At the hour of their death, I defend as My own glory every soul that will say this chaplet; or when others say it for a dying person, the indulgence is the same. When  this chaplet is said by the bedside of a dying person, God’s anger is placated, unfathomable mercy envelops the soul, and the very depths of My tender mercy are moved for the sake of the sorrowful Passion of My Son” (Diary 811). When hardened sinners say it, I will fill their souls with peace, and the hour of their death will be a happy one… Write that when they say this chaplet in the presence of the dying, I will stand between My Father and the dying person, not as the just Judge but as the merciful Savior” (Diary 1541) 6. True, this is a private revelation.  But it describes nicely how divine mercy works with all of us up until the very end of our life.  We should therefore trust that the Lord granted your father the grace of repentance even if he did not receive the Sacraments. Wasn’t the fact that he sent for the priest repeatedly a tacit plea to receive the goods that priests carry with them, particularly the remission of sins in confession? 7. Having said all this however, do not relent with your suffrages. I like to cite the Catechism of the Catholic Church:”Communion with the dead. «In full consciousness of this communion of the whole Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, the Church in its pilgrim members, from the very earliest days of the Christian religion, has honored with great respect the memory of the dead; and 'because it is a holy and a wholesome thought to pray for the dead that they may be loosed from their sins' (2 Mac 12,45) she offers her suffrages for them» (Lumen Gentium, 50). Our prayer for them is capable not only of helping them, but also of making their intercession for us effective” (CCC 958). I gladly join with you in this prayer of intercession: to help your father, and to be helped by him. I remind you to the Lord and I bless you. Father Angelo 20 January 2017 | A priest answers - Liturgy and pastoral - Pastoral section

[lured-into-wonderland]

He made her embarrassed. She turned red, when Gabriel suggested she had declared her intention to come back far too quickly. Nunnally was sure it was not only her cheeks, but also her ears and her neck that turned red in that very moment. But she was not sure what to do. She couldn’t tell him "why" she really wanted to be around him. She didn’t want to admit she could tell he was a Vampire. Not then anyway. Nunnally wanted him to come open about it, or investigate why he couldn’t see (or recognize) “what” and “who” she was. But although she was naïve, she suddenly understood how her statement might have seemed to him. But she was not able to come up with any idea of how to explain herself.

“Is it wrong I…I feel…like I like you?” – she finally stuttered – “And yes, Miss Nunnally is just fine…although I am not sure what your role here truly is…you mean that technically you…you pretend to be...you are my maid?” – he wasn’t really her maid. The whole idea of maids’ café was ridiculous in her eyes. He wasn’t even dressed as a proper maid, although he looked extremely cute in whatever he was wearing. She sighed – “I am used to be called Miss Nunnally. I actually hear that quite often.” – as well as 'Your Highness' or 'Princess', but that was probably a topic for a different conversation – “That’s why I thought simple Nunnally would feel nicer.” – a moment of hesitation – “Would it still be appropriate for me to call you Gabriel?” – that would be proper in her world, but this place was odd and probably had very odd rules.

Gabriel was a mystery for her. A mystery she was inclined to solve. Was he a spy among humans? Or was he truly a vampire who knew nothing about the other dimension? Was he luring her into a trap to later report her failure to her father, the king, for the deserved punishment? Whatever that was, she was ready to risk it. Nunnally didn’t have a detailed plan, but pretending to be his loyal customer seemed like a valid option. Something that seemed an average thing here. And that could also be something she’d enjoy. She had fun with Gabriel. More fun than she wanted to admit.

She giggled when he showered her with compliments. As least she took his words as such. He didn’t consider her to be an odd one. He didn’t think her clothes were odd. Gabriel was definitely a nice person even if Nunnally was sure he wasn’t completely honest.

“You’re quite close here. I love books. And I could be described as shy, smart and discrete. But I didn’t study literature. So, here’s one miss shot.’ – he was close. Dangerously close to describe her true personality. Did he know her after all? Was he giving her clues that he had seen through her game? And yet it didn’t seem he did. It made her even more curious. And curiosity was both her biggest asset and her biggest failure – “And you? Do you like books?” -- she was interested in what he liked to read. That wasn’t the question that could bring her closer to solving the puzzle, but again it was nice to have a decent conversation. Even if that was actually his job to entertain her. 

“Oh, don’t worry!” – Nunnally exclaimed perhaps a bit too quickly – “I will make sure I have a decent order to make your employer happy with me coming and taking all the time of their most popular maid…” – that was a bold sentence from her; perhaps an attempt to flirt with Gabriel? She tilted her head. No! She shouldn’t flirt with him. She couldn’t truly do it. And if he was to find out who she was, it might as well put them both into an awkward situation. So, she instead asked about her becoming a maid here. Not that she needed a job. And not that she would be allowed to take one. Or particularly this one. She made it more for giggles, but instead she put herself into a difficult situation. Again. And at least in her own eyes: --

“I…I don’t think I am good at remembering orders…even less in serving them…” – she suddenly laughed – “I am sure some of the orders would actually end up of the floor… I have never carry more than two glasses…more like one actually…” – she laughed, a bit awkwardly imagining herself in one of the dresses here. It made her blush. Her father…her father would surely punish her severely if she ever mentioned being a maid or even putting on the maid’s outfit. But that was again in the world that Gabriel seemed to ignore. Or perhaps was truly not aware of. Would it be her to actually show him that world?

“I can be pretty entitled when I have to.” – Nunnally was pretty serious at that moment – “And I am kind of used to attract attention…” – she started explaining until she realized what kind of attention Gabriel meant; no! that was definitely not the type she could tolerate – “...b-but…I-I..m-mean…I…meant different type of attention…I think…” – she blushed. Nunnally didn’t know what to say, so she opted for a compliance – “I am sure it is an art. The art…the art I don’t know.” – she sent him a shy smile but his next questions brought some more confusion into her. She could not answer any of them truthfully. She couldn’t say that she was a princess, a daughter of a vampire king and she was lured into this café by his scent. And now she was all puzzled that he had behaved as if he had no idea about the other dimension. About vampires existing outside the human domain. No, she could not and Nunnally did not want to tell him all that. At least not at that very moment. So, she opted for a lie she had been telling (or living) here, in the human world. She laughed; a bit stiffly, though: --

“No, I am not. You’re right. I am slightly older…” – actually much older, but that is not important – “…than a regular student. I actually completed two majors, although I might not look like it…” – at least as for the needs of my life here and now – “What I am now…” – she hesitated – “I guess you could call me a trust fund girl…although that would not be entirely the truth…” – she stopped; she didn’t like what she was saying, but again that was her current life here. Or at least when she was living among humans.

“My father is a politician.” – he probably was not too interested in the politics anyway – “I am mostly doing some charity work…” – that is useful for my family affairs – “But I don’t think you could call that a job…”

So, that was an easier part of the conversation. Why did you enter here, Nunnally? What were you going to tell him?

“No, I don’t. But that is exactly why I came. You can call it curiosity. I like exploring places and things…I don’t know…” – it wasn’t a pure lie. She was curious. She wanted to know. And that always brought troubles onto her. Was it exactly the same today?

“I was sort of intrigued by the name of this café. And the attires the waiters were wearing. So, I did come in.”

A pause.

“But I am pretty happy about it.” – are you, Nunnally? – “Do you think curiosity is a bad thing?” – she suddenly asked out of the blue.

Gabriel didn’t have even the tiniest beginning of a doubt about Nunnally being human, actually. Of course he was aware of the existence of other vampires - he was one, and got turned into one by another. It was only logical to think there were several around. But he couldn’t imagine them coming to the maid café.

As for demons… These, the blond had no idea they existed.

The compliments made Gabriel preen, not discreet in his smugness. “You’re right, I have a fair amount of fans. Though the girls get an unfair advantage, some customers come here just for me.” Again with the bragging, though it was the truth. But he didn’t mention he also managed to drive away some people as well, his bratty personality not fitting everyone’s taste, and not exactly typical of the maids of the café.

Luckily there were people who enjoyed it. Apparently, this woman was one of them, despite not looking like the type of his usual customers. He smirked at her embarrassment.

“We barely talked yet and you already enjoy my conversation enough to want to come back ? I’m flattered.” His words were followed by a chuckle, and a little nod as she offered her name. The compliment didn’t cause any shyness in Gabriel, still as smug as earlier. “Miss Nunnally fits more my role as your maid here, anyway. Don’t you like it ?” His smirk widened. By his standards, he was still nice, but the teasing was hard to let go of.

Considering some customers were way more friendly - and by friendly, he meant wandering hands - Nunnally was from being inappropriate. It didn’t even cross Gabriel’s mind. “Not everyday no, only five days a week. I don’t work on sunday and monday. I need some rest days like everyone else.” Knowing which days he worked was also a classic question he got asked. When a customer liked a specific maid, they wanted to come rather the day this person worked. Not all of his coworkers played along though, but it wasn’t hard for someone to find the schedule, they just had to come daily for a week. Unaware of Nunnally’s plan, Gabriel was just pleased to get a new loyal customer.

He giggled at her surprised face, and studied her more deeply before answering. “Your dress isn’t what people often wear maybe, but apart from that you look pretty normal to me.” His voice lowered and he leaned forward over his drink a little, expression conspiratory. “I would never speak badly of customers, of course… But some people would be tempted to call a bunch of them weirdos, or find their outfit really strange, these kinds of things. But mostly I was talking about behavior more than appearance.”

He sat straight again, considering while watching her and sipping on his drink. “Average…? Come on, I wouldn’t say that, it sounds rude.” As if Gabriel wasn’t a rude person. “Now you mention it, I could see you as a literature student. Always a book in hand, hidden in a corner of the library- You have that vibe you know ? Smart, shy and discreet.”

Another, quick glance. “Maybe not the most fashionable but a lot of people are not. Or think they are, but are wrong. Your outfit looks just… Old fashioned, maybe, you’re right. But it’s not weird.”

He grinned and shook his head, amused by her antics. “It’s not silly. But it’s a little fun I admit.”

More praises meant more proud preening from the blond, clearly not having ever too many compliments. “I’ve always been good at guessing what people want or like. My job here only helped. But you were pretty obvious, some people are harder to read.” His vampiric nature gave him some gifts, but this wasn't one of them.

“Hm ?” His green eyes focused on his drink as it was mentioned. “A Sakura wish. One of the cocktails here. They’re all without alcohol, we’re not allowed to drink alcohol on the job. It’s pretty sweet though, you may not like it- but if you want to taste it, I can share. It’s strawberry, lychee, raspberry and coco milk.”

He liked nearly everything they made at the café, but it was a little too expensive to buy it daily. Her suggestion made him think, tapping his lips with his drink’s straw. “We do have sandwiches, and a lot of things with fruits like milkshakes and smoothies, pancakes… Hmm, blackberry muffins, and a daily fruit salad. But considering your tastes, I’d suggest macha cakes or macarons.”

A blinding smile. “It is up to you. We can both chat and eat, or just chat. As long as you’re having something, because you can’t stay without an order in front of you.” For now she had her tea, he was just warning for later.

The first question was a little tricky. It would be easy to lie - and Gabriel couldn’t tell the whole truth, obviously. A half-truth would do. “My last job was to walk dogs, but I get sunburns very easily so I looked for another one. I often passed by this shop, but it was too expensive for my paycheck. But then they were hiring waiters, so I applied. Now I get discounts and wear pretty clothes while working, and since we don’t have terrasse I don’t get any sunburn. And better paycheck. It’s a win on every field.” Nothing in this was a lie. Lying was easy, but the blond found some pride in saying half-truth and alike. Not revealing himself while still saying the truth.

“A good maid…?” Gabriel needed thinking for this one, and landed his chin on his palm. “It is hard to say just like that. I don’t know if you’ll be good at remembering orders and serving them. But you’re very pretty, I think you’d rock a maid dress… I’m sure we can even find an old fashioned one.” He teased, lips stretching in a playful smile. “And the shy, polite type is very popular. All in all, I think you may not enjoy the maid job here. You’d probably attract some unwanted attention, it’s an art to deal with it.” Himself was pretty glad with the unusual strength given by his vampire nature. Nothing inhuman, but definitely not expected from someone with his shrimp’s body.

“My turn now with the questions.” His green eyes focused on her, not letting her the time or option to refuse, at least before he actually got to ask. “I have the feeling you’re actually not a student. What are you then ? That, or what job do you do ?” It wasn’t just to know if she had a lot of money, he swore. Part of him was genuinely curious. “And what made you enter here ? You’re obviously not hanging in this kind of café a lot.”

[feietouhuo]

headcanon: mu qing’s idolization of xie lian, his royal highness the crown prince ( long post )

as much as i like to joke around & say mu qing prefers beggar xie lian & thinks he’s 1000x more handsome .... the person mu qing idolizes is the crown prince of xianle. not the scrap collecting god, not the laughing stock of the three realms  — it’ll always be xie lian, the flower crowned martial god.

he mentions it explicitly in his famous scene: “you were always a better person than me”. he goes even further to say it was difficult to dislike him. “you were quite amazing”. while he may have said it in mt. tonglu, those are words he formed 800 years ago.

but it isn’t blind idolization like hua cheng’s. rather, xie lian represents everything mu qing wants to be. even better, he represents everything mu qing wishes he could do. but unlike xie lian, he wasn’t endowed with a kind & warm personality. neither did he view himself as willful.

mu qing did believe he was a charity case for the prince. & for a long time ( throughout book 2 & parts of book 4 to be exact ), he never thought xie lian was all that. anyone with the status he had could do the same. “& did you know that i never thought the difference [ in skill ] between us was all that great?”. 

that isn’t to say mu qing wasn’t grateful. he was. despite his more violent & sharp personality, he never wanted to cause problems for xie lian. if he could avoid telling him about anything he faced ( abuse, undeserved scoldings, etc. ), he would. he knew people thought xie lian was crazy for bringing him in, so he stayed silent & obedient so xie lian would never defend him publicly. & of course, he worked hard so no one could speak poorly of his skill for both selfish & unselfish reasons.

yet, to him, every little thing xie lian touted was for show. it was to make him look good to his kingdom, that’s it. 

until the events in book 4. 

first, i need to make one thing clear about xie lian: no matter how idealistic or “stupid” you think book 2 xie lian was, he did everything he did when the world was against him. he’s strong. no matter how successful or unsuccessful you think he was, he still stood up to his parents, the guoshi, & every voice against him to fight for what he believed. he saved hong hong er & knew that was the right thing to do. he stood up for feng xin against his parents when he hit qi rong for bullying. he gave mu qing the chance to rise, despite being from a criminal, impoverished family. no one wanted to help the common people except for him.

there’s a popular sentiment in media: the rich can afford to be nice simply because they have everything. mu qing believed it too. but he also believed another thing: xie lian’s sentiment was bullshit. he could try, but those are empty promises.

mu qing’s opinion of xie lian soared after the incident at spiritual mountain. though it sounds strange, i want to consider mu qing’s position during it. he was a court official in the middle heavens. based off the fact those 33 other officials wanted to share spiritual land with him, he had a quite a high standing too. or, at the very least, was well-liked. he had power obviously. he had resources as we see later. add in the fact those 33 officials wanted to drive xie lian off & leave him by himself, the situation isn’t drastically different from past xie lian’s when he helped mu qing. one with a higher status with the ability to help, one at the bottom with a bad reputation, & those who favored one while looking down on the other. 

yes, i want to admit that mu qing’s circumstances are different & more strenuous overall. but i don’t think mu qing saw it that way. xie lian was put in tough positions too. even the line “hey, don’t be mean. he served as xie lian’s servant before this, of course he’d want to help him” is reminiscent of the line “just‌ ‌say‌ ‌you’re‌ ‌picking‌ ‌them‌ ‌under‌ ‌my‌ ‌command,‌ ‌and‌ ‌no‌ ‌one‌ ‌will‌ ‌say‌ ‌anything”. they both justify certain actions, particularly actions of protection, according to duty/status. xie lian protected mu qing by giving him permission to use his status whenever bad situations arose. mu qing could protect xie lian doing the same thing, even if people would think poorly of it.

now we’re back to my previous point: mu qing was “rich”. he had everything at that point, so why was it he still pushed xie lian down into the mud? he couldn’t let go of the fear of being looked down on again by these 33 officials he associated with in the heavens. people would gossip again.

in a single moment, he realized one thing: saving even a single person — no matter what you had — was hard. he couldn’t do it. 

but xie lian did. he extended his hand to him, a child of a criminal & nothing but an errand boy, & helped all he could. xie lian might have grown up without fear because of his upbringing, but it’s still hard to say “i’ll do what i want, even if it displeases everyone i know”. 

maybe xie lian didn’t save the common people. maybe he never would. maybe he was delusional.

yet mu qing & xie lian now echo one thought: as long as i / you can save one, it’s enough. one is enough.

[dantes-gf]

This is gonna be bulleted and short bc I have trouble writing long stuff without overdoing analyzing, this is the dancole thing - DD anon

Nicole is seen at multiple points manipulating Dante in different ways. Specifically gaslighting, bodyshaming, and threats, as well as just regular emotional manipulation. She essentially refuses to let Dante break up with her. Every time he tries he gets a different tactic.

The first clip I found was Nicole turning Dante’s gentle attempt to breakup into bodyshaming him. He says “I can’t see this working out in the future” and she responds by agreeing because he’s gained weight and being all around difficult, resulting in his attempt to break up failing.

The second clip was Nicole saying she loves him, emotionally manipulating Dante into not wanting to leave her when he tries to break up with her. Dante doesn’t want to hurt her, but she refuses to let him leave her even when he tries to.

The third clip was them on what looked like a date at Love-love para, where she says, and I quote, “if you’re hiding something horrible, you should just tell me now so I don’t have to hunt you down and hurt you later.” She was correct he was hiding something, but she had no idea he was cheating at this point, this was purely based off him acting a bit odd. This is also in public, so I’d have no problem seeing Nicole using worse threats behind closed doors.

Also, considering the girls are all automatically on Nicole’s side when they find out about cheating, and Katelyn’s own disregard of her treatment of Travis, it’s not unlikely to say he may have tried to say something to someone and was promptly told he was either lying or exaggerating.

I think what should’ve happened, if I have to still make use of it for character development, use it to further Zane’s “not a bad person, just cold” thing.

Dante and Zane are roommates in LLP. Dante canonically talks to him about his relationship problems. If Nicole were to try and use his being unfaithful to manipulate him into something else, Zane would be a good person to help him.

Zane’s not a nice person. He’s not warm and he’s not really kind most of the time. But he is not the type of person to recognize abuse and not say anything about it. He won’t do anything until he has to because he hasn’t been asked to do anything.

When Zane bluntly calls her out for what she’s doing, Nicole would likely object and say he’s lying or Dante’s making it up, except Zane has no motives around him. Dante wouldn’t need to alienate Nicole from Zane and Zane doesn’t have anything against her.

Zane would also get solid backup from others, because Garroth knows his baby brother, Aaron knows Dante, (screw canon) Aphmau is not someone who’d call a victim a liar without proper proof, and obviously Travis isn’t going to call Dante a liar.

Katelyn would be the only one to side with Nicole, which could also be used to point out her continued physical abuse of Travis. Either she can lose her friend group, or she can admit that Nicole is abusive and that she herself needs to stop using physical violence to release her anger.

tw / abuse and extremely toxic relationships

while obviously it’s an issue with dante and nicole, i feel like almost every single one of the relationships in aphverse are just a mess of lowkey abusive behaviors. especially travlyn and dancole.

i think it all roots back to jess and her own relationship situation and probably the media she’s consumed over the years that make her view these borderline abusive relationships as love.

i think it’s just awful that we have characters such as katelyn and nicole who are presented as the tough girl stereotype, the ones who like don’t take any shit, but they’re not “tough” girls, they’re just mean and hurtful and SERIOUSLY rooted in the “i’m not like other girls” character type.

and yes i know this ask is about dante and nicole and i didn’t even realize the stuff she said/did that was just horrible but katelyn really is just Awfully written. she’s mean and just punches people?? all the time?? and i don’t remember too much of dante and nicole i won’t lie but it seems she isn’t too far off from katelyn’s writing…

[haadeswrites]

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her. 

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn. 

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired. 

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 

Time slows. 

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.” 

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though. 

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!” 

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”