#honestly what i originally imaged the soul ending would be

[dudeimintomonsterprom]

I think this was the original soul ending, before it was swapped to the city of vice

[moonlight-prose]

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind

a/n: i am posting the prompts i'm doing for challenges a bit late cause i haven't been here. but this is my first ever days of future past logan fic and i am nervous! i originally planned to do it in the 70s but then an even angstier idea hit me. and honestly i'm kind of in love with how it turned out. this isn't as much smut as i intended, but who cares. enjoy!

tuna-tober 2024: day eleven - tears + "i'd be lost without you." + breast worship

summary: they told him to change the future, to right the wrongs that the world caused. but he didn't do it for them. he did it for the chance to see his lover one more time. even if he shared a different history than them.

word count: 2.1k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MDNI 18+ ONLY!! angst, fluff, reuniting, tears, grief, logan has ptsd, mention of death, love, breast worship, body worship, biting, dry humping, they almost get it on in an empty classroom.

He never felt his heart beat this fast. A rapid thud, thud, thud against his ribs as he took long strides through the halls. His eyes scanned each corner and passing student for the sight of someone familiar. Logan didn't have any worries that you would be unrecognizable. He didn't worry that you were different.

His soul would know you from miles away—the connection that tied you to him stronger than his will to survive.

No matter what Charles told him. He didn't go back for him or Jean or Storm. He didn't fight to change history just to get a chance to save his family. That remained only part of the reason. Logan survived—he clawed his way through the past—for one sole purpose. He would finally get a second chance; he'd get to see you smile again, hear you laugh, feel your lips against his.

Going through hell became worth it if it meant getting the opportunity to have you in his arms.

Students pushed past him on their way to lunch. Several greeted him with a term he would have to grow accustomed to—professor—others tossing him a warm hello before they scurried by. He seemed to have a solidified life here. The promise of peace in a world that once ripped him in two. He wasn't just the Wolverine in these hallowed halls.

He was Logan Howlett too.

"Baby!" he called, running down the empty hallway towards the set of classrooms. "Princess are you here?"

Charles directed him in his mind, pushing images of moments he couldn't recall to the front of his mind. Smiles hidden in secret during meetings packed in a too small office. Touches that you hoped went unnoticed through training sessions and meals in the dining room. Jokes about the two professors who snuck into each other's rooms at night for months on end, long before they finally decided to move in together.

Time he'd never get back. Memories that never belonged to him in the first place.

Would you like this version of him? The Logan that had seen far worse, who endured a war, who held your dying body in his arms as a battle went on behind him. Would you love the scars that ran just a bit deeper? The pain that lingered for far longer than you deserved.

Fear gripped his heart at the thought of anything other than your love. He wouldn't survive a life spent without you. He went through that once and every day felt as if his soul was being torn from his body. Each gruesome wake up to move places and fight for mutants who may never make it out alive, became lifeless—colorless—because you weren't there.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, turning in a circle, his chest heaving with gasped breaths. The air seemed to be stripped clean of your scent, no mark of your existence filled the mansion as it once did.

He felt his body seize—the familiar numbing ache trickling down through his body.

No reason to live resided in his heart if you weren't here to spend it with him.

"Princess!" he practically shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Fuck. You gotta be here. You gotta–"

"Logan?"

The soft lilt of your voice forming his name on your lips punched him in the chest, effectively stealing whatever breath he clung to. He whirled around, eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears, as you popped out of the classroom door behind him. He'd never seen such beauty until today. A wash of relief flooded his body, the weight on his shoulders landing on the floor with a heavy thud.

He drank in the sight of you with a smile. The curve of your hips in a too tight black and white pinstripe pencil skirt, the way your white button down rolled at the sleeves hugged your breasts—the black lace bra faintly evident against the sunlight that streamed through the windows. He devoured you with his gaze alone. Yet the hunger still persisted. It ate at his heart, begged him to move, to gather you in his arms.

But for the life of him...he was unable to gain control of his limbs.

They were stuck. Frozen against time as you moved a bit closer, your black heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

You looked exactly the same. Though some differences lay in the style of your hair, the red lips painted deep and enticing, the glasses tucked into the front of your shirt, Logan felt as if you were ripped right from his memories.

His girl. His princess.

"Baby," he murmured, doing what he could to catch his breath.

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as you regarded him with a flash of concern. "Is everything okay? Charles let me know you were looking for me."

The mention of the man's name forced him to finally move. What little of Charles still lingered in the back of his mind quickly retreated—the mission to find you now complete. This was his way of giving the both of you some privacy. A chance to reconcile with the woman he thought he'd never see again. Logan thanked him silently, promising to speak after all was said and done—after he got a chance to hold you for the first time in nearly a decade.

"You're here," he sighed, his feet moving faster than either of you expected.

"Of course I'm here. I had a class to teach. Quantum mechanics, well actually more a study of molecular physics today. I thought I let you know at breakfast–" His hands gripped your waist roughly, pushing you back into your empty classroom with a growl. "Logan!"

His foot shut the door, hand blindly fumbling for the lock, as he dragged you against his body with his other arm. An explanation would be given later in the dark confines of your shared bedroom. He'd explain it all to you, every gruesome and grave detail. All the questions he knew swirled inside your head—ever the curious woman he fell hopelessly in love with.

But right now he'd have you on the nearest desk (preferably yours). In this fleeting moment he would reclaim what was so brutally taken from him; the love he felt now pouring out from every part of his body. Beating in tune with his erratic heart.

"What are you doing?" you gasped, hands pressed against his chest to steady yourself. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt?"

His stomach fluttered, the sensation of being on cloud nine now a reality the longer he looked at your pretty form. Hands quickly roamed his shoulders and arms as you checked for any injuries that might appear at a moment's notice. Nevermind that he healed quicker than any other mutant in this school. Nevermind that he stared at you with an expression that could only be described as awestruck.

You still did what you felt was necessary to ease the growing worry in the back of your mind.

"'M more than okay baby." The low rasp of his voice forced your gaze up to his within seconds. A soft oh echoing in the empty room.

No explanation was needed when he looked at you with pupils that devoured the hazel of his iris. You knew what he wanted—could feel the desperation in his tight grip. The thickening sweetness of your scent curled around his senses like a drug, filling his body with a need that permeated the air.

"I missed you," he breathed. "So much."

Logan wished there was a way to convey how much anguish his heart went through in the years after your death. The nights spent yearning for your touch. The memory of you passing onto a plane he couldn't follow burned onto the back of his eyelids. He couldn't escape what happened.

Death was an easy option for him. A choice he would have made in the blink of an eye. But the laws of his own being were unable to be severed. He'd never be able to join you—forever stuck in a world without your light.

He longed to tell you all of it, but feared he might fuck it up.

"You saw me a few hours ago," you grinned.

"God I wish that were true."

Your mouth parted, eyes overflowing with worry, and Logan could no longer fathom a moment without your kiss. Dipping down swiftly he slotted his lips against yours with a groan. His hands gripping any plush part of your body he could reach. Unable to stick to one spot because there was so much of you he missed. The feel of your ass in his hands as he gripped you close, how you blissfully sighed into his mouth, relenting to his hold.

Kissing you felt as if he gained back all the years he missed out on. The time he thought was unsalvageable.

The feel of your tongue pressing against his drove him over to the edge of madness. A feral moan coated in a gravel hoarseness ripped from his throat, his fingers squeezing your body to drag you even closer. He sucked on your bottom lip, licked into your mouth with whimpered broken sounds, and refused to stop even when you pulled back for air.

"W-We're in a classroom Logan," you gasped, high-pitched and layered in a neediness that matched his own.

"I don't fuckin' care."

"I don't want to get caught–"

Sucking your tongue into his mouth with a grunt, he began to walk until the back of your thighs hit the grand desk you sat at. The plaque of your name now lay with a pile of papers that landed on the floor. He groped your breasts, tugging the buttons until they popped free—scattering across the room with soft pings.

"My shirt!"

He grinned. "I'll help ya find them later, princess."

"You're not fucking me here. We have a room for a reason." The words were accompanied by a moan, your head tipping back to give him the expanse of your neck.

Space he happily began to sink his teeth into. He sucked at your skin as he pulled at your bra, his thumbs running across peaked nipples that practically begged for his attention. An act he was more than happy to partake in. With a grunt, he sucked one into his mouth, spit smearing into your soft skin with the promise of making a mess wherever he could.

"F-Fuck," you panted, fingers ripping at his hair as your hips canted up into his. "What's gotten into you baby?"

He answered with a deep grind of his hips into yours, the sticky precum practically drowning his cock in the confines of his jeans. Self control wasn't his strongest ability at this very moment. Not when he could feel the heat of your cunt call his name. He'd be surprised if he lasted long enough to sink into you—to finally indulge in the warmth of your body.

Teeth dug into the side of your breast, his hands tugging your cunt along his jeans as tears pricked his eyes. Losing you wasn't the worst part of all of this. Not being able to remember the last time he felt you this way—the final day of joy in your relationship before it happened—would forever haunt him. A memory he should have solidified in the back of his mind slipped free before his very eyes.

How did you smile at him? Was it a stolen moment by firelight? Were you smiling just to appease his growing anxiety about losing you? Or did you feel a flicker of joy?

For the life of him...he couldn't bring that moment to mind.

"Logan?" Your hands tugged his head back, thumbs wiping away tears he didn't know started to fall. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

He grinned, broken and marred and bleeding all the love his weary body could muster. "I'd be lost with you."

You paused, disbelief shrouding your features. "What are you talking about baby? Did something happen?"

The time to reveal it all would be now, but how could he move past this? Your breasts were free and coated in his spit, your eyes were darkened with wanton lust. To him you would never look more beautiful. Entirely disheveled, yet still willing to help him by any means necessary.

You would always be—and forever remain—the other half to his scarred soul.

"I'll tell you later," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "I'll tell you everything."

"But–"

He shook his head. "Lemme have this. Okay? I need this."

A discerning smile crossed your lips as he leaned in for another kiss, his body pressing you down until your back hit the desk. This certainly wasn't how he envisioned your reunion happening. A quickie in the confines of an empty classroom that you'd eventually teach in a few hours later. But Logan couldn't fathom waiting. He'd spent years pining after a soul that might never walk the same ground as him.

A brief moment of bliss. A short forever in the allotted time.

This was something he could steal for himself.

[amomentsescape]

Eldritch monster anon here! So to answer your question, yep that image you shared is what I have in mind ^^

Slashers with Reader Who's Secretly an Eldritch Horror

Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

A/N: I'm not super confident I wrote Reader correctly, and I didn't go into too much depth about what they look like or everything they're capable of, so I hope you still like it! You can find the original request here.

Freddy Krueger

He can't help but fantasize of the damage you two can cause when together

He sensed something was a little different about you from the beginning

But he didn't think it would be quite this drastic

What's funny though is that he thinks you don't know that he's found out about you

He's dead wrong

But it's kind of a game to you, and you're having fun with it

He's "secretly" caught you distorting the people and things around you

And he admires that fact since he does the same thing in his Dream World

You were hoping he'd catch on sooner

But oh well

It's just more fun that way

Michael Myers

He somehow doesn't know already, and you kind of want to keep it that way

Michael has this thing with power

He knows he's unstoppable, chaotic, and deadly

And he likes it that way

If he ever found out about the things you're capable of...

It would not be good

Your partnership would go from providing to battling

He wants- needs to be the monster in the relationship

And although you have the upper hand on him, he would not go down without a fight

He knows there's a darkness brewing in you

He just doesn't know quite what it is

And let's hope it stays that way

Jason Voorhees

He honestly learns about what you are pretty early on

He didn't really assume anything was off about you, but he was so open and sweet to you that you felt comfortable enough to tell him about everything

And knowing that he's not the most dangerous being around is somewhat... nice

He really admires your power and strength

And it feels good to be able to leave for a while and not worry that something will happen to you

You are more than capable of protecting yourself, and that lifts a huge weight off of Jason's shoulders

Perhaps he's too trusting, but he doesn't worry about you turning that dark power on him

You've only showed him genuine love and care, so he feels like he has nothing to worry about

Thomas Hewitt

Perhaps he's being a little naive

The way you immediately ate his "dinner" without so much as a question

The sudden increase of people coming by the house and being captured

How you come out of the most dangerous areas unscathed

There is clearly something about you that isn't... normal

But it's not his place to question it

He loves you, and you love him

End of story

Even if he did start to question what's really going on, he wouldn't press the matter

He figures you'll open up to him whenever you're ready

And if that's never, then so be it

Bubba Sawyer

He's just a sweet, naive man

You could literally show your true colors right in front of his eyes, and he'd still have no clue

But it doesn't really matter

He loves you for you no matter what you look like or what you're capable of

As long as you still care for him like this, you can do whatever you want

He will admit that his family has had a much easier time getting "food" than ever before

And those that do come by are really easy to capture since you've been with him

But those are just coincidences, surely

You're his sweet angel

He has to protect you

Little does he know that you really can handle yourself...

Brahms Heelshire

He has found it a little odd that the food still arrives on time without so much as a word from Malcolm

And he hasn't seen a single soul since you began to staying with him

But he's very happy with all of this, so he doesn't question it

He can sense that you're a little... different than other people

But that's part of the reason he likes you so much in the first place

He only realizes the true extent to this theory when you somehow force him to bed without so much as a touch

He was completely flabbergasted at this, but he didn't dare question it

Safe to say that he has no intention on giving you a hard time again

Norman Bates

He doesn't question a thing

If anything, you're his good luck charm since all of these good things started to happen when you showed up

The motel business is booming

Any issues he was dealing with seemed to disappear in plain sight

Everything seems to be going his way for once

Mother keeps telling him there's something off about you, but he ignores her

What does she mean?

You're his sweet and perfect partner

There's nothing else to it

You want to show him the truth at some point, but he just seems so happy right now

Maybe you'll tell him later

Billy Loomis

Billy straight up demands for you to tell him what's going on

Unlike a lot of people, Billy follows his gut instinct

He's known something was up with since you two started seeing each other

His world was just too... perfect

And he swears that there's this dark aura that surrounds your head at all hours of the day

It's only after his latest kill went too well that he interrogates you

When you tell him, he asks you to prove it

The look on his face when you showed him just what you were was enough to send you into a fit of laughter

To be honest, Billy is a little bit scared of you now

Knowing that you're capable of literally taking him out of existence is intimidating to say the least

Best believe Billy is going to do his best not to get on your bad side

Stu Macher

Stu is true golden retriever energy

Meaning, he is very sweet and loving towards you, but there's not much else going on inside that brain of his

He doesn't suspect a single thing with you

You are his perfect partner, and that's about it

Sure, his killings with Billy have been going super well, and he always comes out unscathed

Yeah, that person who shushed him in the movie theater was found completely mutilated the next day

What about it?

You wouldn't have anything to do with it

Stu just thinks that you are made out of 100% innocence

And you kind of like it that way

You'll tell him when you're ready

Until then, you just appreciate Stu treating you like a person and not some powerful God

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent has been finding himself with a new sense of inspiration for his wax art

He dreams of this ethereal yet terrifying being he has never seen before

He's told you about the dreams, and you always respond with a soft smile and a "that's interesting"

Vincent as no clue that you're the creature he's been seeing

And you must say, his art is pretty damn accurate

You didn't have any intentions on telling him the truth, at least not right away

But the way he sees this version of you as his muse makes you want to say something sooner

He's basically idolizing you, and he doesn't even know it

Not that he doesn't act this way with you normally

But how fun it could be to see his reaction once you tell him the truth

Bo Sinclair

Maybe he suspects something is going on, but he doesn't say anything

Ignorance is bliss

And although he's usually one to demand what he wants to know, he doesn't quite feel comfortable doing that with you

There's something in those eyes of yours that tells him he may be better off not knowing

Plus, things for him and Ambrose have been going suspiciously well for him

He literally had some random man run up to him begging to become one of the wax figures

This is all just odd

And he knows you're hiding something by the way you smile at him

But everything is so perfect that he doesn't want to ruin it

So for now, let him be ignorant

Lester Sinclair

He's never really been in a relationship as passionate as this one before

So you best believe any single thought or doubt that goes through his head is immediately thrown out

He loves you, and you're so nice to him

There's no way you could be hiding something from him, right?

I mean, it's a little odd how you seem to appear from thin air, and your hair never has a single strand out of place

There was something that feels... not real

But that's just crazy

He probably only feels that way because of how perfect he thinks you are

Until you explicitly stand before him in your true form, he's going to just ignore these thoughts

[sorinethemastermind]

An Assassin Analysis

I was honestly not expecting to see Ram, Skor, Callisto, and Andromeda again. I thought that their role in the story had ended in Season One, but I especially thought that after their souls passed on in Through the Moon.

When Rayla first went through the portal at the Moon Nexus she encountered them; something that was surprising to me. I had assumed that they, not turned into coins or held in limbo by Aaravos, would simply have passed on. But we discovered in the comic that their spirits were not at peace;

After seeing that the binding was gone from Rayla's wrist, they assumed that meant she had completed their mission and killed Ezran. They vanished before she was able correct them. I took this as them passing on in peace once they believed that their mission had been completed.

So why, now, are we seeing them again?

"The Keeper has a secret." That is what the Instagram post with the new screen shots says. So... are the assassins connected to The Keeper's secret?

Based on the Moon arcanum's relationship with the afterlife, death, and the thin line between reality and illusion, my first thought is that The Keeper is some sort of "Keeper of Souls". But that doesn't make sense, because I don't think that Ram, Skor, Callisto, and Andromeda are going to come back. I think that this is an illusion of them. Or, at most, their spirits being called back to speak one final time (maybe my theory can be correct).

I don't think that they're really there, and I don't think that they'll be brought back from death.

In the image, we see them holding out their hands as if to cup one of the metal lotuses that Ethari made, though they're empty.

And beyond that, I feel like what Rayla is standing in with them could be the pool of water in the Silvergrove, where said lotuses are placed.

One theory I have is that Rayla is in a sort of "trial" to have her status as a Ghost removed. But there are many more options.

Whatever the case, this makes me think that we will definitely be seeing the Silvergrove again. But does that mean that Runaan and Rayla are going to go off on a solo mission while Callum heads to Katolis?

Another option is that, if my theory is correct and The Keeper does have a connection to the afterlife, they could potentially use him to commune with the spirit of those that originally put Aaravos away; learning the whereabouts of the Nova Blade.

So maybe they go to the Silvergrove for help, and to reunite Runaan and Ethari, but before The Keeper will help them Rayla must face what happened back in Season One and her status amongst the elves there as a Ghost.

[kaznejis]

Public display- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part 1 - Public Affair 

Word Count- 6012

A/N- The support for Part 1 was honestly overwhelming- I did have initial plans for a part 2 though did not expect that many people to be interested! From me to you, enjoy this sequel packed with angst, fluff and action. Thank you ;) 

Monaco, six months earlier. 

“Records state that our friend over at Hydra owns this hotel,” Natasha mumbled beside you, her head bowed low and red-waves loose beneath a wide sun hat; complimented by a long, strapless designer dress, as commissioned by Tony. The two of you were the staple of the average residents of Monte Carlo, having essentially raided every designer outlet in the area. High-end cars rumbled throughout the street as heiress after heiress graced the steps of the grand hotel before you. 

“I’m pretty sure he also owns three other hotels on this stretch.” you snorted, Squinting up at the large, stained-glass windows of the hotel; the click of heeled boots and the spray of dancing water created a mirage of noise around you. The area was the opitimy of money; whilst you had flown in on a private jet- once again, courtesy of Tony- you felt like a fraud, your disguise almost see-through to the ancient, traditional blood of manicures and snobbery surrounding you. 

“We suspect he’s funded the majority of the Hydra operations that have been appearing over the last couple of years,” Steve grumbled over the comms, the pant of his breath evident as he paused to speak, “If we can take him down- Hydra will have lost their biggest investor.” 

“It’s not an end to an all, but it’s definitely something,” Natasha replied; her voice a constant mumble beside you, ever playing the role of an undercover spy perfectly. Natasha remained the constant, solid force in missions; always watching your back, always giving her all. You found yourself constantly following her footsteps in more circumstances than one. Looking to her for guidance. 

“Me and Steve are nearing the South entrance,” Bucky’s voice rumbled through the comms, your other guiding force entering the picture. Bucky’s strength and resilience and love tended to bleed into you, etching your soul and adding even the slightest element of care to every move you make. Every punch, every throw, every beating- Bucky was ever prevalent in your mind. He had gripped your hands and face and waist in the privacy of the back of Tony’s jet- inhaling your scent and ingraining it into his memory as he had told you to be strong, be safe, be vigilant. Adoring, you had stared up at him; cradled his metal hand and nodded along- forcing him to vow that he would do the same as he implored you to do, “Everybody stick to the original plan- Y/N and Nat; you can advance to the front desk.” 

Moving instantly, the two of you began to climb the steps to the entrance; feigning the image of two friends chattering, enjoying their holiday or returning from an early lunch. It didn’t matter what image you could create, as long as it was believed. Upon reaching the entrance, the doormen smiled at you, bowing graciously as they presented the open doors of the hotel’s entrance. 

“Easily done,” You gritted out behind a grin, bowing your head thankfully towards the men, “Go to the reception and get as much intel as you can; I’m going up to the penthouse.” 

“Y/N, are you sure?” Natasha turned to you then, her own saccharine smile gracing her features though her eyes remained down-turned with worry, “We can skip the intel and go together, take him down fast.” 

Vehemently, you shook your head, grasping her hand and pleading with your eyes, “We need that proof Nat, without records we’ll have nothing but a suspicious murder to show for this mission- we need to know what the income for this place is being turned over towards.” 

Natasha nodded reluctantly, “Be careful, okay?” her eyes closed for a moment as she allowed herself a breath before she departed from you, not allowing a second look as she strutted towards the desk where an unknowing, young male attendant awaited her. The perfect target. You set off towards the hotel’s corridors instantly, signs displaying a large quantity of numbers and different suite types directed the way as you explored the quiet corridors; the click of your heels the only sound present. 

As you turned a corner on the second floor; two familiar figures jogged from the other end of the hallway. Smirking, you bowed your head- your own sunhat creating a guise over your features as you headed towards them. “Miss, miss?” Steve panted, slowing as him and Bucky reached you, “We recommend that you vacate this hallway there is a-” 

You raised your head then, an eyebrow raised as you revealed yourself to the two, “Am I really that unrecognisable?” 

As Steve stuttered, Bucky smirked as he approached your side- wrapping the metal arm around your waist and planting a kiss at the side of your face, to which Steve rolled his eyes and turned away, “Of course not Doll- Steve’s just in ‘Cap Mode’” 

“Speaking of which.” Steve raised an eyebrow, moving to continue his pursuit. 

“Of course,” Bucky mused, beginning to depart only to return to your side and lean towards your ear, “That dress looks amazing on you by the way, Doll.” He replicated your initial smirk, jogging backwards and throwing you a wink before turning to follow behind Steve- who had already disappeared around the hallways corner. You continued on your own departure then, affording him a final smile before continuing your climb towards the penthouse. 

One foot in front of the other, over and over as you trailed the extensive halls of the hotel. 

-

For the room regularly occupied as a safe house for one of Hydra’s most powerful assailants, the lock was surprisingly easy to crack. The twist of a hairpin and the slightest pressure did the job- the lock clicking as the door swayed, its brass hinges squeaking abrasively, the sound loud and grating in the silence of the hallway. 

“I’m entering the lair,” you whispered into comms, loud enough for it to be heard throughout the ear pieces though quiet enough to deter detection from outside sources. A quick scan of the room told you that it was empty, though recently occupied- half-drank bottles of alcohol and cigarette stumps littered the table, complemented by the clothes strewn across the floor, “Give me five minutes.” 

“Be careful, Y/N,” Steve replied, “Nat’s got the intel, we’re a few blocks from the hotel and all civilians have been cleared from the nearby areas. Tony has got eyes on the penthouse from above- see you in five.” 

Double clicking the button attached to your ear piece- you affirmed that you had heard Steve’s words; silently confirming the start of your undercover exercise. Bypassing the mess within the entrance- you turned instantly to left; the plans that you had covered extensively highlighted that the office was to the left; gather evidence, wait for the suspect, kill the suspect, escape. It was a simple plan with simple steps- an exercise you’d done countless times, you could practically do this with your eyes closed. 

The gathering of evidence was the easiest step- a range of highly confidential material lay open across the large mahogany desk within the office; letters, invoices, even bills for the hotel itself. Within no time you had snapped pictures of the most interesting aspects, though not before a piece of paper caught your eye. It was at the corner of the large pile of letters; sticking out almost intentionally, as if asking to be found. Pulling it from the pile, your heart dropped instantly as the words before you became clear. 

H,

The Avengers, America’s greatest heroes, have finally turned to you as their target. Their plan will be ever-predictable; the one feeling the most boisterous and courageous will most likely volunteer themselves to be sent up to your penthouse during one of your annual stays as the others split off into teams. A strategy that would work, if you didn’t have my intel on your side. Ensure that the area is cleared and that the evidence is obvious. Make it too easy for them. 

I hope you will repay me for the assistance. 

It was a trap. It had all been a trap, and you had fallen directly into it. 

“Were you never taught not to snoop through someone else’s belongings?” A gruff voice sounded behind you, the click of a gun’s safety being turned off immediately following. 

“What is this?” you gritted out, hands raised beside your head as you stared determinedly at the desk, “Who did this?” 

“That’s none of your business, Sweetheart,” the man spoke, his tone laced with confidence, “Now- let’s do this the easy way, shall we? You’re going to come with me, tell me a little bit about this whole operation of yours and then we kill you. Understand?” 

You turned then, hands still raised in the air as you refused to show any signs of fear towards the man- he stumbled slightly at your movement, the gun in his hand wavering as he was shocked at your own confidence as you looked the man directly in the eye; face impassive as ever. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.” You gave the man no time to think as you immediately fell to your knees, rolling in between the man’s legs and slicing a cut into his thigh with the knife concealed into the thin sleeves of your dress, “All I can tell you about this operation, is that I’m here to kill you.” 

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” The man turned instantly, firing two shots towards your legs; the sound of the bullets deafening at such close range- your trained, meticulous instincts only allowing you a split second to roll away- the momentum allowing you to unholster a gun at your thigh-holster. You stood instantly, the gun poised precisely between your hands as you aimed it at him. You clicked off the safety, aiming the gun and- 

“Doll? Doll, were those gunshots you?” Bucky’s voice sounded through the comms, his voice tinged with worry- the plan had been to execute a clean, quiet kill; knife, poison, brute force. A gunshot did not come under the category of clean, quiet kill, setting off the alarms instantly, “Doll, we’re coming up there please answer me, please let-” 

The falter you had offered at the sound of Bucky’s voice caused you to pause for too long, within no time the man had bowled into you, slamming your back into the wall and ripping the earpiece from your ear, dropping it to the ground and instantly crushing it beneath his boot. Shit. 

“Now, we’re not going to do anymore playing around,” He growled into your face, his breath hot with anger against your cheeks and his arm barring you against the wall as you squirmed, “No more secret weapons, no more dancing around.” As he spoke, an entourage of armed men entered the room, an array of red pointers displayed against your chest. As the men entered, an explosion sounded nearby. 

Tony, they had taken Tony down. The Iron Man had survived worse, of course- but there was little the team would be able to do for you now. You were grossly outnumbered. As panic began to numb your senses; the worry clouding your eyesight- the butt of a gun connected with your forehead; effectively knocking you out. 

-

Three days, three days you were locked up in that basement. Another safe house, another dingy and dilapidated building occupied by the Hydra informants. Blood had dripped into your eyes as you hung from the wall- arms encased by chains and your lifeline hanging by a thread. 

“Your little boyfriend isn’t coming to save you.” They had spat, phlegm splattering against your cheeks as they had laughed- laughed at the so-called ‘Avenger’ that they had tricked so easily. You hadn’t blamed them- you had felt foolish, like the naive child you had once been; too excited by a chance at finery, revenge. Vengeance for Bucky and Steve. It was only in the darkness of what could’ve been night, as evidenced by the lack of torture you were given during those hours, that you allowed yourself to cry. Cursing yourself and your stupidity. 

You had wanted nothing but Bucky in those moments. Nothing but the intertwine of your legs under cold sheets and the tickle of his stubble against your skin; the giggles that it would garner from you as you begged him to stop. Every moment, every breath was spent thinking of Bucky. It was only when the sound of gunfire and a door crashing above you sounded that you felt like yourself again- the sound of familiar boots against the stone floor and the harsh grip against your face, the look in Bucky’s eyes as you had looked back at him- the relief crumpling his face as he sobbed, his grip on your face never loosening. 

Something changed then, between the two of you. It became real, the knot forming between you solidifying. It felt like forever. 

-

New York, Present day

“You kids really do think that I just have an unlimited sum of money, huh?” Tony mused from the kitchen counter, stirring himself a cup of coffee early in the morning, “I just held a huge charity gala, which was a success by the way, no thanks to you two.” 

“That’s because you do, Tony,” You gritted out, your fists clenched beneath the dining table, anger and determination fuelling you, “I need you to host a press conference, I need-” Bucky gripped your clenched fist beneath the table, uncurling it and intertwining his fingers with yours, his gaze sincere as he nodded comfortingly, you took a deep breath, “She tried to ruin our lives, Tony. We need to expose her, we need to do something.” 

Tony sighed, pausing midway as he raised the cup to his mouth, his gaze mirroring Bucky’s as he watched you from across the room, “Fine, kid. I’ll book you a room, reach out to a couple of my contacts. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” You nodded, your eyes teary as you smiled at Tony before turning to Bucky; his gaze remaining a solid force as he watched over you, continuing to grip your hand. 

“It’s gonna go fine, Doll,” He assured, dragging your hand with him as he moved to settle back in his seat. He was almost a mirror of that night in the kitchen- all sleep-tousled hair and his crumpled pyjama shirt; the evidence of the lines of a pillow still prevalent within his cheeks. The two of you had spent every second together since your conversation in that hallway, and the night that followed. His gaze a constant presence beside you as you worked out what to do, how to garner adequate revenge against those that had wronged you. 

The presence of those days in Monaco had always lingered at the back of your mind, and you assumed Bucky’s too. Whilst the team had managed to take out the army of men within the safe house you had been held captive at; your initial attacker, the Hydra informant- had escaped.

The reveal of a potential informant within the Avengers too shook the team- many outside of the Avengers itself refused to believe you, refused to take it further and potentially expose one of their own; one of the people that they worked alongside every day. 

You couldn’t blame them- though the failure to reach justice left you feeling empty, wronged. You had survived days of torture- only to be saved, returned and expected to let everything go back to normal. To scrub the blood from beneath your fingernails and climb the quinjet, onto the next operation. The events of the PR relationship and the lies that unfolded caused these thoughts to re-emerge; thoughts that had been submerged by training in the gym and the crinkles beside Bucky’s eyes. 

You felt like a pawn- a chess piece in the game of the rich and powerful. Orchestrated and trained to be used. 

During the days leading up to the conference, Bucky was a constant presence beside you- a hand on your back, fingers intertwined, a kiss to the side of your hair- it was almost like he was afraid to let go, afraid that the relationship posed before the public eye was all too real; that it truly had meant something. Despite it meaning nothing.

You had told him as such, a hand smoothing back his hair as you sat cross-legged on your bed, “The whole time I was thinking of you.” You had smiled, your cheeks warming as he cocked his head to the side, a chuffing sound escaping from his mouth as he allowed himself to breathe. 

“Me too, Doll,” He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he inhaled your scent, his face pressed to your hair, “I’m sorry everything got so twisted-”

“No, no. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“Doll,”  He smiled sadly, those beautiful crinkles at the side of his eyes forming, “I should’ve known, I’ve run into a number of problems with those public representations executives- I should’ve known.” He nodded as he spoke, wholly convinced that this was his doing, not theirs. 

“I promise you, Buck. This wasn’t your fault and I will assure you of that until the day I die,” You vowed, your voice harsh with the iron-clad anger within, “But before I can show you- we have to take them down.” 

“I’ll be there, Doll, right behind you on that stage. If you need me to step in I will. I will be there.” 

Words wouldn’t have sufficiently amounted to display your awe of him, your love, the way you wanted him by your side forever- so, with your hands on his cheeks, you pulled him in- pressing your lips to his and pouring every words that you had never said to him into the kiss; smiling against his lips as he reciprocated, brushing a hand to the back of your neck and gripping- pulling you into his lap as you laughed into his mouth, lips never departing. 

In a way, that moment of reprieve; of love, prepared you for what was to come. 

-

The constant static of the Avengers tower surrounded you and raised the ends of your hair as you traipsed the hallway- the day of the conference. Your speech was written and had been studied meticulously, your words at their harshest- inflicting every cruel feeling that had been inflicted upon you, not just in the past week but during your time in the Avengers. The ever-watchful eyes, the unwanted criticisms, the ignorance and the altruism regarding yourself as a living, breathing human being. 

The people had never truly cared, they never would. But exposing their malice and manipulation would provide you with the revenge you deserved. The revenge you all deserved. 

The sound of heels clicking hastily caused you to pause, halting in your tracks as the footsteps were aimed purposefully in your direction, though before you could turn and face the intruder, a shrill voice sounded, “So, this is your big plan, huh?” Sophia, her once bouncy curls now reduced to an unruly hairstyle as she had evidently not stopped to allow the time for a meticulous hair routine that morning- her own actions were catching up already, even without the extent of her crimes being exposed, “Expose me?” She continued, reaching you finally as she waved her hands in her face- her nails raw, bitten down to their nail beds, “I was doing what was best for you-”

“You almost ruined my life!” You snapped, hair flying as you swung around to glare right back at her- your tone severe as you advanced, “I almost lost the love of my life because of your lies. And for what? A bit of money, fame.”

“You could do so much more, Y/N” Sophia shook her head, tone condescending but almost sympathetic as she widened her eyes at you, “You could be the biggest celebrity on the planet- we almost got there but you had to ‘fall in love’ with that-”

“Don’t even go there, Sophia.” You shook your head before repeating yourself, “You almost ruined my life- so I’m hitting the nail in the coffin for yours. What was it you said, me going public with Bucky would be ‘career suicide’?” 

“You’re going to regret this, Y/N.” She yelled after you, a cliche statement- though out of character for a simple representative like Sophia. The statement caused you to pause upon turning the corner towards the conference room- check the stability of the gun beneath your shirt and the knife stored in the boot of your shoe. 

“What’s up, Doll?” Bucky’s voice called from beside the door to the conference room- leaning up against the wall, one leg cocked before him as he stood in a full embellished suit and tie. Grinning, you shook your head, stopping in front of him to adjust his tie and smooth back his hair, “It’s gonna go great,” He nodded, his head tilting as he followed your ministrations against him, “You’re gonna take those bastards down, yeah?”

Nodding, you continued to grin at him, standing back to appraise his figure, “It’s going to go great.” You affirmed, accepting his hand as he led you towards the door. 

“Everyone’s here, a little scattered around but I’m sure you’ll get a chance to see everyone afterwards,” Bucky pushed the large doors as he spoke, the grip on your hand moving to lay on your back as he pushed you into the room. Cameras instantly begun to flash in your face, Tony’s influence already attracting the attention of the press as they yelled questions at you and demanded answers, “Everything will be answered shortly,” Bucky nodded at each individual absently, leading you through the crowd towards the selection of seating occupied by a number of Avengers. 

Wanda instantly vacated her seat and jogged to you, as much as her heels could allow, pulling you into a comforting embrace as she effectively stole you from Bucky, “You’ve got this Y/N,” she pulled back to grip your shoulders, squeezing as her bright eyes shone towards you, “Bring them down.” 

“Thank you, Wanda,” you smiled, turning to the rest of the group you watched as each member gave their own affirmations, the love you felt almost overpowering as you smiled and nodded tearfully at each Avenger- exchanging hugs and touches as each person moved to reassure you. As always, Bucky remained an ever-present figure within your peripheral- standing to the side and allowing you your moment as you made your way through each Avenger. 

Eventually, once the tears and the laughter had sufficed, you turned to Bucky. 

“Good luck,” He smiled, his eyes glazed over and gaze piercing in that way it always was as he stared down at you- a hand moving to brush the hair from your forehead and the tear tracks from your cheeks as he gave his final blessing. With one final nod, you turned- climbing the steps towards the raised platform as you took in the sheer amount of people present within the room. Not only had the entire Avengers team arrived, but the majority of Stark’s Enterprise itself had too, alongside a swarm of reporters each carrying their own equipment and abrasive opinions. Sophia sat in the very front and centre- her gaze severe as she glared up at you, awaiting her own demise and preparing an escape as a bag lay secured and ready to grab beside her chair. You could only nod at her, maturity remaining the bargaining factor as you reached the microphone, cleared your throat and arranged the papers before you. 

Bucky smiled up at you, an encouraging nod all you needed to begin. 

“I’d like to begin by thanking you all for coming today. I would like to recognise that this conference may be detrimental to many though it is necessary. Necessary for the so-called progression of the Avengers that you all vouch for, yet fail to accomplish,” taking a moment to pause, you surveyed the crowd- each member stunned into awaiting silence as they stared up at you, your next move a vital one, “During my experience within the Avengers- my accomplishments have been diminished to nothing but monetary value and publicity. I didn’t join the Avengers to be moulded into this, this object that you can flaunt at my expense. These feelings came to ahead when I was recently involved in a PR public relationship,” a sudden entourage of camera flashes begun, this is what they had been waiting for, “My relationship with John Walker was entirely organised by the Avengers’ Public Representations Department- my role as an idol to many young people was reduced to the latest on the front page of hundreds of tabloids.”

You turned then, a projector lowering behind you as you grabbed its remote, “I would like to present you with evidence of falsified documents within this department- majorly regarding my own real relationship with,” you paused, turning your gaze to Bucky, he nodded, “fellow Avenger, James Barnes.” 

Gasps could be heard throughout the room as an uproar instantly began at the sound of Bucky’s names- questions, shouts or simply looks of shock were directed your way as you stared stone-faced into the crowd. To the side, Bucky was grinning- head-bowed and chuckling as the Avengers surrounding him held their own grins. Finally.

As the uproar died down at your own lack of response, you clicked the button on your remote- displaying a picture of the document Bucky had been forced to sign with a side-by-side comparison of the one you had signed. Refusal stilled you, refusal to look back and see the contract that had almost destroyed your relationship- tied chains around the sincere love you felt and locked you in place, on display to the ever watchful eyes of the public.  

Instead, you continued to watch the audience- see their own individual reactions as the lives of those around them came crashing down. Your eyes turned to Sophia then, still seated and cross-legged in front and centre. You expected her eyes to be shining, regret spoiling her features as she would attempt to make an escape from the room, bag clutched and unruly hair flying as she would flee. 

Her face held a different tune. 

She was grinning, her pearly-teeth shining as her eyes flickered between you and the screen- her cheeks twitched as if she was holding in a laugh. Her reaction led you to turn to other members of the crowd, who’s faces sung a distinctly different chord.

Horror. 

They looked horrified. 

Tony stood then, his chair flying backwards as he barked orders to Friday, “Turn this off, stop the broadcast Friday. Who the hell did this? Get whoever did this out of my system!”

“What-” you mumbled to yourself, gripping the stand before you as you turned, confused as to how pictures of a contract had caused such a spectacle. 

The pictures of the contract you had edited together and annotated were not displayed upon the screen. Instead, it was a video. You breath sped as you saw what you were watching, your own horror poisoning the breaths in your throat and weakening your knees. Front and centre, the focal point of the video was you. 

You from six months ago in Monaco. It was a video of you hanging from the wall; body binded with chains as your face was covered in blood and dark bruises prominent on every inch of your skin. The blood that had clouded your vision could be seen from an outsider's perspective here- oozing from a gash on your forehead and filling your eyes, painting your eyelids red and glueing them together. 

Struggling to breathe, you couldn’t tear your eyes away- you could only watch as your breaths hitched, the fight kicked out of you as you simply hung there. The men that had beaten you were not present in the video, though it was very obviously almost-immediately after one had taken place, your wounds were fresh, too fresh. 

“Y/N? Y/N, you need to look away from that for me, okay?” A voice sounded behind you, pleading  in its timbre, familiar and comforting as a hand attempted to turn your face, “We’re doing everything we can to get it off, Steve and the team are getting everyone out but I need you to look-” before the voice could continue its begging, a ear-piercing eruption sounded throughout the room. The walls of the conference room and the projector itself bowing inwards- the heat scouring your skin as the voice from before pushed you down and shielded you with their form. 

You could only look at the figure, who turned out to be Bucky, in shock as he knelt over you; the ringing in your ears violent as he pulled you up, yelling at you to run and dragging you from the room. The rush of open wind pulled you from the depths as you entered the adjacent hallway, the side of the building entirely open due to the explosion- “What is going on?” You cried, gripping Bucky’s hand as the two of you rushed to the nearby stairwell. 

“I think they’re back Doll,” Bucky turned to you as you entered the safety of the stairway, “We need to get as far away from here as possible- if that video tells us anything, they are back for you.” 

“Sophia,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you reached a conclusion, gripping Bucky’s arm as you pulled to a stop, “Oh my god, Buck, Sophia!”

“No, Y/N, we can’t go back-”

“No, no. The informant, Buck. The person that warned Hydra, it was her,” your brain sped erratically, remembering the grin she had given you as the video had begun to play, the threats to your life, “She warned Hydra, we have to stop her.”

Bucky opened his mouth, a reply forming- but before he could speak, a jolt of electricity passed through your fingers as the volt was directed into his back. You could only watch as the man you loved collapsed before you, “Well, aren’t you smart,” Sophia’s voice grated from behind him, her heels clicking as she continued towards you, “I told you that you would regret trying to ruin my life, so here we are.”

You spared her the honour of a reply, instead opting to jump at her, kicking the baton from her hands and pinning her to the ground, “You are finished, Sophia.” 

“No, she’ll be just fine,” another voice piped up from lower down the stairway, that same gruff voice from Monaco. He was here, “You could join her, Y/N. Live under my care and provide me with a bit of intel every now and then- you would be ridiculous to reject such an offer.”

“Well then I guess I am,” You spat, within a split second you had raised yourself from your crouched position, effectively lifting Sophia by the shoulders and slamming her head into the ground, knocking her out cold. The man was visibly displeased with your decision as evidenced by his change in stance as he instantly stormed up the stairs towards you, hoisting himself over the railings and engaging you in combat. You had trained for this, the long, winding months of your recovery were fuelled by the focus of sparring in the gym. You fought back swiftly, your movements precise as you delivered a kick to his gut and a clip across his jaw in quick succession. 

“Someone’s been working on their fighting,” He mused, using the distraction of your reply as a chance to grab you by the hair, spinning you in place and pinning you against the wall, “But you’ll still be the little rabbit I saw in that basement. 

“Go to hell,” You snapped, jabbing an elbow backwards and using your other hand to unholster the gun from beneath your shirt. Reversing the roles between you two, you watched as he cowered against the bannister, visibly unprepared for you to have hidden a gun within your formal outfit; not suitable for combat whatsoever. You faltered, considering simply handing him over to the police- instilling justice in its traditional form. 

But then you thought about the root of the operation, the torture that you and Bucky faced at the hands of Hydra- at the disgusting men that resided within the walls of those hydra bases. You instantly delivered a shot to his head, the bullet pinging against the metal of the stairway behind him as it tore clean through his skull. 

Wasting no time, you rushed over to Bucky’s pliant figure, sprawled on the ground as his body hitched with electricity every handful of moments, though he seemed to be coming back to consciousness; the speed of his super soldier healing and the bang of the gun pulling him back to consciousness, “Bucky, Buck. I need you to wake up.” You shook him, cradling the back of his head in your palm as you awaited a response. Sophia lay, similarly knocked out behind you, her mouth slack and blood leaking from her ears as she lay there. She would face the traditional methods of justice- handed over to the authorities for her attacks and barred from society for her infiltration. 

A groan sounding below you pulled your eyesight back to Bucky, stroking the sides of his face as he opened his eyes groggily- squinting in the light of the stairway, “Your face, Doll.” he mumbled; making you aware of the blood dripping from your potentially broken nose and the swelling of your eyes.

“You should see the other guy,” you laughed, gesturing to the bodies behind you, “Literally.”

“Shit, Doll.” Bucky swore, rubbing at his side as he hoisted himself upwards into a seated position, “We need to get out of here.”

“Wait, we need-” sighing, you closed your eyes briefly, gesturing to Sophia behind you, “We need to get her out of here; hand her over to the authorities the right way. She needs to be interrogated, find out what she know.” 

Bucky nodded, his face grim as he pulled himself to stand, with the support of your arm, aiding you in lifting Sophia up and limping together as you carried her from the scene- the beams of the destroyed hallway creaking with each step- the building beginning to fall apart above you. 

Once the situation was explained, with Sophia and a handful of armed men being escorted from the scene into an entourage of police vans. Bucky returned to your side, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you into a kiss and gripping at your sides, careful in avoiding your sore spots. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay Doll,” he nodded sincerely, his eyebrows scrunched as he stared down at you, “I was so scared I was gonna wake up to you gone again.” 

Shaking your head, you pulled Bucky into another kiss- threading your fingers through his hair and caressing the base of his scalp, “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

As you embraced, you turned to watch the scene before you- firetrucks extinguished the fires erupting from the explosion; hoards of employees stood aimlessly, simply staring up at their place of work, now diminished to ruins and rubble. Steve and Natasha were helping injured civilians find help whilst others kept the crowds away from the damage. Most amusingly, Tony stood only a few feet away from you and Bucky, simply staring up at the building; hands on hips and lost in thought. 

“Buck, we’re gonna have a shit-ton of paperwork to fill out.” 

-

AMERICA’S NEW FAVOURITE COUPLE

Shocking events have arose at the recent Avenger’s conference as Y/N L/N revealed that her relationship with John Walker was indeed fake and instead she is in a long-term relationship with fellow Avenger, James Barnes. Our reporters watched in shock as Y/N revealed this- though, me personally? I knew it all along! Count me as your most trusted source in celebrity love lives- I’ve never been wrong!

[lazywrites]

Gravity

Kurt wagner x fem!reader (2k) Reader is a villain, suggestive, bad writing, i wrote this practically asleep.

Par 2 of Nemesis

After a few meetings, Kurt doesn't know what to make of his new friend or what to do about his feelings towards her.

Who were you really? A lost soul looking for guidance, that was what Kurt had heard when he first passed by the square, a fearsome terrifying villain, a powerful mutant, a terrorist, a simple woman made to be an outcast in a society she helped build.

But then, he had also been called many things in his lifetime, most of them unpleasant as well. And if the likes of Magneto and the Hellfire Club could be considered heroes by the population, why not her? Nemesis used to be an just entity that existed in this world more than anything else, uncontrollable and mysterious, a powerful mutant of unknown origin, who could bend the Earth and stars to her will.

The power over gravity, it pushes and pulls, a careful balance must be kept. Come close and you might end up bent out of shape, too far and you might be lost forever.

Nemesis has always strived to live in balance, her hands are light and helpful and her heart is as heavy as a stone, That was most of what he got by talking with the others. In truth, Kurt had invited everyone he could, well liked or not, religious or not he didn’t pick and choose when announcing to them his invitation, it wouldn’t be right, he had heard a story of her before, from his sister Anna no less, Of the somber night the terrible villain Nemesis halted the movement of the stars on the sky for a few hours, affecting the tides the weather and everything in between, and was defeated by the X-men, saving the whole world and even then he had wondered why, why would she do such a thing? It seems illogical even from the perspective of pure evil.

A few days after their fist meeting he reminded himself to ask, and she simply looked down towards him as always.

“Because i could.”

And it did not make sense to him, He had to admit, it was hard to merge the two images he had of this woman into one, and Kurt found that he became disappointed in himself, the simple act of even trying is foolish. People have many sides to them, some that are full of hate and lust for power, and some that will hold your hands tenderly and pull you closer, looking to make you smile.

Both sides of this woman haunt him at night, Nemesis and Y/N.

Nemesis stands over his bed at night and smiles down at him like a shark, dark and scornful in a way that makes him freeze, unable to move he is completely powerless against her as he’d probably be in a fight, but they’re not fighting. And her tongue is mean but oh so sweet in his mouth, she does not spare insults to his virtue in those moments and he is completely at her mercy, hypnotized and helpless to resist her pull. Like a black hole she steals all the light from his room and the breath from his lungs when she presses up against him, sometimes it’s one of her boots, sometimes its her body against his but the result is always the same.

It depends on what kind of nightmare this is meant to be, Some nights his body and hers are so entwined that it’s hard to distinguish one from the other, she’ll whisper close to his ear and demean him until he can’t take the teasing anymore. Nemesis will simply step on him and declare that she wants ‘to see him squirm’, he’ll be well acquainted with the sole of whatever she was wearing that day when they talked, and it’s agonizing and euphoric at the same time, a bittersweet nightmare.

And he knows it’s wrong, wrong and honestly embarrassing but he’s been caught by her more than once looking down at her shoes.

Y/N is there too.

In his sweetest dreams she comes to him, but not to stand over his bed, she lays with him and her presence electrifies his body in opposition to Nemesis. And the need to move makes him shudder, the need to touch her and run his hands all over the object of his desire feels right this time, she’ll bring her face right next to his until they breathe the same air and Kurt will finally be able to see it again, the soft interior beneath the hardened shell of her persona. It’s not like he has any difficulty getting to this side of her, but in his dream, it’s more present than ever before and he can touch her and kiss her as much as he wants, the real her.

Waking up is the hardest part, ever since they met Kurt knows that his sleep schedule has worsened considerably, some days he’ll want to sleep until he can’t anymore, to continue living in his imagination just a little longer, he’ll look himself in the mirror and tell his reflection to stop having these fantasies, that his new acquaintace is dangerous, just like everyone else tells him. It won’t work, despite his doubts Kurt admits to himself only in his head and nowhere else that he is fascinated by her, that she has his full attention whenever they see each other even if in passing.

He doesn’t know her, but somehow he does. It’s strange but he’s seen her real self, and he knows her real name now, there is no reason to be afraid of Y/N, she was genuine that night, and he remembers the warmth in her eyes every hour of every day.

 “why are you messing with my head, Meine Liebe?”

He’s being pulled towards her, and it’s hard to resist his newest temptation.

Ultimately he doesn’t think of anyone else he’s met like he does you, they all have many facets to their personalities sure, but the difference between what he’s heard about her past and the present is confusing, He doesn’t know what to do with her, with you, his friend.

And what if he asks you about it? What would you say? Probably something bold.

“Because i can.”

You’ve said it before, you won’t ever ask for forgiveness, maybe that’s why the answer he got that day was so nonchalant, in the end it doesn’t matter, He should focus.

After that day in the rooftop you two met again, and kept meeting over and over, you never joined the others in their reunions but if he looked up towards the rooftop of Genosha’s makeshift church you’d always be there waiting.

Kurt didn’t dare to climb up to the rooftop and preach for you to come down, so he joined you, for the better part of 3 months you two meet every week up in the roof and just talk, or sit next to each other in silence, staring at the moon. And he enjoys it for more reasons than he can put into words, you never say it but he can also see it on your face that you enjoy spending time with him, he wants to know more about you and ask all about the questions that have been brewing in his mind for more than a month, he wants to know why you did what you did, wants to know if your time together is helping, wants do know if you think of him as much as he thinks of you.

The doubt in his mind never really leaves, but Kurt doesn’t mind when he can focus on staring at your profile, he wants to commit to memory the way your eyes gleam when you stare at the moon, like it belongs to you, and in a way it does.

“You’re staring again.”

He blinks, you wait for him to answer without even turning to face him.

“You look good, i mean-You’re in your element, it looks good.” A slip of the tongue, and he hopes you won’t notice.

“Hmm” You turn towards him with and arch an eyebrow “Yes, i like staring at the moon, from here it feels like i could reach out and grab it.”

It seems you haven’t noticed how flustered he became under your stare, Lucky.

“Yes, you’re right, i do wish i could touch it sometimes.”

You smile at him, a mischievous smile.

“I could get it for you.” and don’t wait for him to react “You would be touching it, but only once.”

He smiles back at you “I’d rather just look then.” And directs his gaze to the sky, to distract you so you can look and he can turn back to watch you again.

You don’t take his bait, not yet.

“I’ll take you flying someday.”

It’s a nice thought, so nice it makes him feel guilty, for doubting you and questioning your intentions, and for fantasizing about you, as much as Kurt wants you to be vulnerable he can’t help but feel guilty when you are, even if his guilt comes from things that he can never tell you.

He can’t express with simple words how that makes him feel, so for now a smile will have to suffice.

“Actually i’ll let you pick the day, since i’m in a good mood right now.” And there you are again, putting him on the spot.

Kurt opens his mouth and forces his tongue, which seems more like an useless weight on his mouth at the moment, to form a few words that are comprehensible at least.

“You want to go out?”

“Yes.” You don’t even blink.

“With me?”

You’re still staring at him and he feels oddly exposed, almost indecent, but his heart is beating fast, so fast. Just like when you stand over him in his dreams, when you lay beside him and whisper how much you want him.

You lean into his space a little, just a few centimeters but Kurt feels like you are closer than ever, and then you plant one of your hands on his bicep, an action that should by no means seem as seductive as it does in his eyes.

“Yes, i want to go out with you.” And he just can’t leave you hanging.

“I want it too.” He hopes you won’t notice the slight tremble in his body, it’s not like you haven’t held him close before, you did it on the first day you two met, but this is different, it feels like you could read his mind and peer into his darkest secrets with just this simple touch.

“Just say when.” The power your half lidded stare has over him is undeniable, and Kurt knows that he can spend the whole day telling himself in the mirror that this meant nothing, it is real, not one of his midnight fantasies, you’re real and you’re waiting for his answer, for him to tell you that he wants you.

He takes in some of the cold night air and his tongue is once again an useless weight on his mouth, but he has to try. “Tomorrow then, Ja?.”

You nod. “Tomorrow.” And then look down towards the streets below “A member of the council out with me, people will gossip.”

“Let them gossip all they want, it is only natural for us to be seen together.” You arch your eyebrow again, questioning what he means “We can say that it was a battle for the ages.”

And you laugh for a moment before your face goes back to its normal state, a little moment that makes his heart beat faster for the rest of your time together. It’s hard for him to come to terms with it, his desire for you, his love for his new friend and fear of the fearsome foe you could become.

But for now this is enough, it is enough when you’re there. By the time he’s back home and in bed, he’ll crave your presence desperately, and by the time he wakes up full of guilt for his thoughts he’ll want less of you poisoning his mind.

But the knowledge that you’re there, and that you’ll be together with him again tomorrow is enough to keep him grounded in the moment, grounded, orbiting you and hoping you won’t bend or break him.

He’ll most likely never touch the moon, but just admiring it with you is enough, for now it has to be.

[idoodlestuffsometimes]

I initially wanted my take to be accompanied by a funny haha drawing, but I am too busy rn and the brainrot is too strong.

For a long time I tried to understand WHAT makes your version of Belos far scarier than he is in the show. It was so weird but it added to the angsty atmosphere perfectly, making the situation seem more hopeless.

But! Now I have a theory. (Little disclamer: I describe the reasoning through purely subjective lenses and how I came to understand the character from the original show.)

Your Belos is far scarier because he hadn't lost anything. Caleb is right there! Alive and "well". There is no buttons to push to trigger any emotional human response. Your Belos has no tragedy that would be painful enough to make him in any way irrational.

Even the grimwalkers are created with cold calculated reason in mind. They are not the irrational impulse to get his dead brother back. Philip just can't have any possible attachement to the blond boys. He doesn't see them as the extension of Caleb and therefore cant care less if they betray him or not. Pure manipulation of the tool.

Philip wasn't alone for 4 hundred years. He had the "fellow human" by his side the whole time. And that human is also the reason for the whole ordeal. So your Philip would care less about other humans, because he doesnt have this longing for the connection. Cross him? Bam! No mercy, even if you are human.

The same goes with his relation to the human realm. Your Belos wouldnt give a shit that the world has changed. Caleb is with him and that would is enough. Again, no buttons to push!

My mind is a mess, but I hope my points are understantable.

You think my boy is scarier than canon?

[IMAGE ID: Belos looking smug, saying, "You flatter me..." /End ID]

Ah! Meta discussion in my inbox! I LOVE getting to see how people react to the stuff I make and why. It's half the fun, honestly :) Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts.

For my own part, I would say the tragedy that makes him irrational is his prejudiced upbringing and his stubborn adherance to it no matter what. He was taught to never question or reconsider. The beliefs he absorbed are always, always right, and those who disagree are always wrong or misled or evil.

Even when it's a fellow human. Even when it's Caleb.

What compels me about writing my version of Belos is that he's a version of the character who wants to have his cake and eat it too. Caleb is alive. Caleb is "bewitched." In his beliefs, it would be kinder to kill him. To save his soul. To return him to God.

He doesn't. Perhaps he's more hopeful than he is in canon. Perhaps he's more selfish. Perhaps he just got lucky in a fight that was never intended to end in Caleb's death.

Either way, this is a version of Belos who refuses to take the quick and "merciful" way out. He wants to adhere to his beliefs and keep his brother at the same time, even when it means that Caleb must suffer.

[grimalkinmessor]

Fic Rec time because why not: Death Note Edition ✨

These are some of my favorite DN fanfics and I figured I'd share them with you :3 Even if you've probably already seen some of them.

I am also a multishipper so this going to LONG. Buckle in 🚀

Gen

Five Days by Shadow_of_Quill

Rated M. Noncon Warning. Several instances throughout the week where people don't keep their hands to themselves around Light.

Despite the serious subject matter Light deals with it in a very Light™ way. This is the origin of a few of my angstier Light headcanons.

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This Is How I Disappear by TzviaAriella

Rated T. MCD Warning. After an international tribunal condemns nineteen-year-old Light Yagami to death, the Kira Task Force must come to terms with the fallout of the case–and with Light’s surprising last request.

I'm pretty sure everyone's read this one at some point. It's a classic. Everybody's GOTTA read this one at least once. Angsty but it's hhhhhhHHHHHH 🙏 So good.

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And This Is All There Ever Was by Min Daae

Rated T. MCD Warning. In which Light has confessed, in order to win.

This one is technically lawlight, but it feels very gen to me so I put it NEAR the lawlight list. I love Light being a spiteful shit and this is him being spiteful to the very end. This man will do anything to win.

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Lawlight

Polarity by Writeous

Rated T. Some people are born with soulmarks: small, colorful images tattooed onto your skin that represent the people who would prove most important in your life. By all accounts, soulbonds are supposed to be beautiful, something to be cherished and revered over the course of your life. Light Yagami grows up with a bold, typeface L on his hand and a soulmate that hates him.

I'm obsessed with this fic. OB. SESSED. It only has one chapter so far but I love the dynamic on this one. I love soulmate aus but specifically the grittier ones. It has a MCD warning but as of now it's not applicable yet. Highly recommend.

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Time Speaks by aSmallMoon333

Rated E. In his first life, L died in the arms of his greatest enemy.

In his brief second one, he died alone.

And in his third, too-long life, L died anticipating finally getting even with the man who'd won their game one too many times.

And Light Yagami? If he'd known this is what picking up the Death Note would bring....well, he'd probably still have done it anyway.

This fic? Superb. Spectacular. I reread it at LEAST once a month. It has lodged in my brain and rots everything else around it I am so obsessed. L and Light are so unhinged and in love and petty and I love them. MCD warning, obviously, but it doesn't stick. This was my first fic back into the DN fandom and honestly I think it should be everyone else's too 🙏 My friends tell me they're getting back into DN and I immediately recc them this fic.

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louder then bells by relic_crown

Rated M. No one has ever seen Light’s soul, but it haunts his dreams as a monster: eyes bloody as sunrise, feathers tasting of citrus and sharpie fumes, breath hot as summer and twice as brutal. At first, he thinks the notebook itself is his soulmate. Then he tells himself Misa can be enough.

L ruins everything. For the first time, someone sees Light’s soul, and through his eyes Light knows it must look monstrous – why else would L be hunting him over it?

A soulmate/His Dark Materials AU—can you tell I have a thing for soulmate AUs? I adore the vibes of this fic, from the mystery of Light's soul, to L's distinct creepiness, to how Light views Kira :) I cannot explain that last bit to you, you're just gonna have to read it.

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Slow to Boil by TrashKing

Rated E. L has loved Kira since he knew there was a Kira to love. Unfortunately for him Light Yagami doesn’t quite understand the whole process of being seduced so L will have to take the frog in the pot approach to taming this beast.

I have a kink for L having a Kira kink, and this is one of my favorites to read when I have my 'I Need L To Be Obsessed With Kira' cravings. Very fun read, highly recommend ✨

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The Many Forms of Blessings by TrashKing

Rated E. Light was taken in by Wammy House after he lost his family in the accident. Now eighteen he finds it’s a tradition at the house that the best of every generation meet the mysterious creature who lives in the catacombs under the estate; L. Light is reluctant and that unease proves well placed when it’s revealed the graduates L likes never leave the underground.

And THIS fic is the one I circle back to when I get my 'I Need L To Be Obsessed With Light' cravings :3 Dark and beautiful in that Beauty & The Beast/Leda & The Swan way. I really love Light's characterization in this fic, as well as the darker take on the Light Grows Up In Wammy's trope.

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Rabbit Holes by TrashKing

Rated M. L Lawliet, head programmer and engineer for W&W Cybernetics, arrives at Tokyo-3 to fix a malfunction that killed eight people. The problem is that 'malfunction' turns out to be a newly sentient super computer called Kira. L disconnects him from the rest of the installation to begin a historic interrogation, but Kira might not be as defanged as L believes.

If you can't tell by now I am trash for TrashKing's fics—I can't help it I'm straight up in love with their Light. I would recc literally all of their fics but we don't got time for that, there's over fifty. This fic is fluffy and funny and really interesting, and it was a super fun read! I liked the inclusion of Ryuk and Light's very wholesome and yet still very Light™ reactions to human experiences :)

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Into The Grey by Kratos_Aurion

Rated E. Light is a young, hot, reclusive Omega who follows all the rules and does it all right. Except when he's sneaking out to capture criminals as the vigilante only known as Kira. L will always and forever be the world's greatest detective, but the Alpha might have a little competition in the Kanto region of Japan.

In a world just barely free of Omega oppression, these two geniuses find themselves in a race against the clock and each other.

VIGILANTE 👏 LIGHT 👏 I love this little scheming bastard. I love the twists and turns this fic takes and the persistent aura of dread and danger. I also just like it when L and Light bicker and fight and they do that a lot in this fic. A lot. It's great. I can't explain what else I particularly like about this fic without spoiling it, so you're just gonna have to read it.

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Extrajudicial by Boo_Yeah

Rated M. L knows that Light Yagami is guilty. And he is forced to accept that he will never be able to prove it.

So, just this once, he decides to break his principles and go above the law. He kidnaps Light and takes him to Wammy's house.

He's sure that having the kids interact with a real-life mass murderer will be a very educational experience indeed.

Or: Light is Kira, L is sick of how easily manipulated the police are, and he secretly wants to see what will happen if he forces Light into a domestic situation with children just as intelligent as he is.

I am a person who really enjoys L Wins AU, so L yoinking Light from Japan just to hide him away in Wammy's to try and redeem (?) him all while Light kicks and screams is something that just speaks to me personally 🙏 L just wants to not kill his friend and Light just wants to continue to commit crimes, top tier story on God.

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Animal Games by tsukinoyagi

Rated T. Gone Girl AU. L has moved his lovely, vile, entirely batshit husband out of their beautiful Brooklyn brownstone into a Missouri suburb, then left him to his own devices. He is under the impression that this is going to end well.

This fic is beautifully written and it scratches that itch I have for malicious antagonism between established lawlight. These bitches are SO toxic and I love them. I really enjoyed the different perspectives just so you can see that both of them are unreliable narrators.

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Terraito

The Gods of The Godless by foreskinsmoothie

Rated E. Noncon Warning. Light was perfect. And now that he’s not, there’s just nothing left for him here, in this life.

After a night that ruined his life, left him crippled and spurred forth multiple failed suicide attempts, Light decides his best course of action is putting himself in the most dangerous situation he can think of and making grotesque gangsters do his dirty work. He slips into the sight of Ryuk, infamous for fucking male escorts, then killing them in a brutal blur. Or so those dark web message boards say.

Light’s fate is in Gods hands… or maybe a creature far crueler has plans for him.

I LOVE THIS FIC. I ADORE IT. It's dark and gritty, but as someone deranged about human (?) Ryuk and his and Light's dynamic, this fic is wonderful. The noncon is not between Ryuk and Light, but the descriptions are explicit so be aware of that. Both Light and Ryuk have my entire heart here no lie.

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Toes, Knuckles, Teeth by TrashKing

Rated E. Ryuk's always been good at bending rules. Shinigami aren't supposed to have sex with humans but, well, by his estimation Light is also a Shinigami.

This fic revolves in my brain at 3x microwave speeds, okay? I am studying this fic like it is the scrolls of old, alright? I hold unhinged amounts of feralness for this fic. It's a smutty little character study, and it has imprinted itself onto the back of my eyelids forever. This fic addresses every reason that I'm so obsessed with Ryuk and Light's relationship. SO GOOD 🔥

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Meronia

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more by neallo

Rated M. “Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?”

Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse.

“Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases.

Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath.

“Years,” Mello marvels.

A Fem Meronia fic set in Wammy's era where Mello finds out that Near enjoys getting bullied by her—because Near has a MASSIVE crush on her. What more could you possibly want out of life? Amazing fic.

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The Archer Ensnared by jabbernatty

Rated E. Near has two goals: the first, to celebrate Mello’s birthday. The second- a secret. His methods for achieving these? Questionable.

THIS. FIC. THIS ONE. Near is my favorite levels of unhinged and this is so in character for me. I enjoy it a lot. If you haven't figured it out by now I enjoy romantic antagonism and problematic relationships and this fic has both 😍

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we will be better than i was by sahwen

Rated M. AU in which Mello swallows their pride and works alongside Near. Things aren't as different as one might expect.

Nonbinary Mello, domestic-edging meronia, and tragedy mixed in with funny shenanigans. The way this written is just,,,so pretty?? I'm in love with it. 10/10 it has everything.

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Matsulight

metempsychosis by palant1r

Rated M. MCD Warning. After the warehouse — it will always be "the warehouse" to him, a vague noun as a substitute for years of betrayal — Matsuda wakes up the next morning faced with a second chance. One day to fix everything, one day to build the January 28 he wants. And that day will repeat for as long as it takes to get things right.

He knows that he can't save everyone. But it would be nice if he could just save someone.

OR

Matsuda gets stuck in a time loop and the situation quickly gets worse.

This fic is a TRIP I tell you, but a very good one. Matsuda's characterization in this is so much fun. This fic is about the journey of grief and all the madness and moral contemplation that comes along with shooting the greatest mass murderer of all time who was also your best friend that you're in love with. Very good read.

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Alive by still_lycoris

Rated M. Light Yagami is a Shinigami. And Matsuda has found the Notebook ...

This is such an interesting idea, I really enjoyed it. Matsuda's moral struggle seems to be a persistent theme in matsulight fics but honestly that's half the fun. Good fic 👌

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Birthdaymassacre

A Secret Note by KeehlingOver

Rated E. What Mello left out of his writings on the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases.

Or, these edibles ain't shi--

This fic is so fucking funny holy shit. Whenever I need a pick-me-up I reread this fic. It's T4T bdaymassacre, what more could you want?

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Aggressive Top by ThePunkRanger

Rated E. Naomi Misora isn’t about to admit that the mysterious detective Ryuzaki sparked something in her, but when he insists that he’s an “aggressive top” she just can’t let it slide. So she does something entirely unprecedented, and invites him over to prove it.

What has she gotten herself into?

Naomi is sick of Ryuzaki's shit, and Beyond has reverse-psychology-ed his head between Naomi's legs 🙏 This one is unfinished but it left off on a cliffhanger that drives me FUCKIN' NUTS BRO. FIRE.

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Playing The Part by ThePunkRanger

Rated E. Someone is kidnapping members of Southern California’s BDSM community, and the world’s greatest detective is in the market for a reliable team to go undercover on his behalf.

It’s been two years since the arrest of Rue Ryuzaki, the serial killer behind the Los Angeles BB murder case, and Naomi Misora has been happy to live her life under the assumption that she’ll never have to see him again. Unfortunately, L has other ideas; ones that involve her pretending to be in a Pup/Handler relationship with the murderer she put behind bars.

I'll be real and say that I wasn't sure about this fic at first, but it's actually very wholesome?? And respectful of the kink community! There's some extra angst in the background with L's controlling tendencies (there are cameras in that hotel room. I feel it in my bones.) and his and B's rough history, but honestly I think that makes it even more interesting. Top tier fic. 👌

[writer-of-the-shack]

pls can u write ANYTHING for a pretty boy x gn! reader? no one writes 4 him n im so desperate u don't understand 😭

In all honesty, I can agree with this. The lack of Intersection Pretty Boy fics just makes me- GGGGGGGGG

Also, sorry for the long wait!! Honestly, I had to rack my small brain for some prompts that would make a good scenario so- Ehe..??? HOW MANY YEARS??? THIS IS THE LONGEST I THINK THAT A BLOG HAS RELEASED ITS FIRST POST AND I'M HONESTLY SO SORRY I PROMISE I'LL DO MY BEST WITH THE OTHERS IT WOULDN'T BE A YEAR LONG WAIT I SWEAR--

Within the Fog

The town of Nanchou-Shi was eccentric in its own right. With the obsession of the townsfolk over intersection fortune telling and the rumors of the ghost that haunts the town's tradition, the Intersection Pretty Boy. Though intersection fortune telling was something that people mostly do in search of that one seed of hope, the circulating cases proved otherwise. If not, it proved to be more dangerous than helpful.

In truth, the strange problem of the town seemed to have beckoned a morbid curiosity within you. The fact that these unfortunate souls met their ends when all they wanted was hope for their romantic struggles was a tragedy in its own right. Yet not only were they caused by random strangers that happened to pass by, but the most intriguing part was that the victims would often talk of a beautiful boy in black wearing red lipstick. He was an unknown entity that piqued the fear and interest of many.

With the mystery of the Intersection Pretty Boy's origin and identity, all fingers are pointed at your unfortunate friend, Fukata Ryusuke, claiming he was the Intersection Pretty Boy. But doubt would always wrap your mind in its shadowy cloak as you think of the connection between the Intersection Pretty Boy and Ryusuke. He never wore earrings, nor had you seen him owning red lipstick. Yet the tension of his posture and the sweat trailing down his face roused your suspicion.

As usual, the rumors regarding Intersection Fortune telling had been one of the school's favorite topics to gossip about, and your piercing gaze with the worried glances of Midori was of no help as Ryusuke struggled through the day.

Through the classroom window, it was easy to know that it was another gloomy day in Nanchou-Shi. Though the school had sheltered the students from the fog, they couldn't stay in school for long. But it was a thought that barely reached their restless minds, for what drowns their caution was the overpowering curiosity and temptation of Intersection Fortunetelling. Ryusuke never seemed to do it for the sake of his struggles, but it seemed more of a responsibility for him, one that seemed to come at the price of his well-being. As the fog hung in the air, he'd walk through the town, passing through intersections and giving advice. As days went by, curiosity crept from behind, slowly engulfing your mind as the image of what remained of your friend, Ryusuke, would occasionally flash within your mind. How thin he had become, how dull his eyes would come. He seemed like a dead man walking.

Your thoughts continued to dive deep into the intriguing mystery of Nanchou-Shi. But with the chilling hush of the wind, you were dragged back into reality, your view obscured by the overwhelming fog. "Tsk… Lost. I shouldn't have spaced out like that." Frustration clung from the back of your head as you internally scolded yourself. Helpless, you tried to navigate through the fog, wishing for something to enter your line of sight, perhaps a wall or a sign. And so, your wish came true as gray walls entered your line of sight, concealed by a veil of fog. Towards the wall, you walked. Mind running through memories to see if this wall was a puzzle piece to a place you've walked past at some point. But to no avail, your thoughts froze as your fingers made contact with the sharp turn of the wall.

You were at an intersection.

Cold realization struck as you froze in your spot. It felt like the wall was absorbing your hand, refusing to let you escape. The silent atmosphere of Nanchou-Shi felt more ominous as your eyes darted around the fog, paranoia creeping in like a silent predator. Was that figure walking towards you just a figment of your imagination? A hallucination? A tall, slim figure walked through the fog, seemingly unaffected by the heavy fog. It wasn't in a hurry like a businessman running late for work or a daydreaming student idly walking from school with their bag in hand or shoulder. The figure strolled casually, the rhythmic clack of their footsteps growing nearer and louder.

Paranoia turned to panic as your silently wary mind exploded into a flurry of thoughts. Whether you believed in the tales of the Black-Clothed ghost or thought it was just an elaborate cover for someone's crimes, you knew the outcome was inevitably grim.

The fog soon made way for the figure, revealing an otherworldly beauty. Eyes devoid of life, red-stained lips curved in a small yet mysterious smile, he wore no other color than black. The fog didn't seem like an entity of its own, but rather, it was akin to a veil that lovingly embraced him.

And as your eyes found him, it felt as if your heart froze. It was a contrast to your mind running in a storm of frenzy. Yet like the calmness in a storm's eye, one thought echoed in your mind like a voice lost within a looming cave.

Run.

With sudden courage, you ran from the intersection. Your beating heart echoed in your ears as the heaving of your breath grazed past your auditory senses. Yet none of those seemed to drown the echoing footsteps of the Intersection Pretty Boy. The image of the tall ghost was carved in your mind as you ran through the streets of Nanchou-Shi, using every turn to your advantage. But no matter how many turns you took, the chill that clung to your back didn't fade.

With the doubtful reassurance of your mind, you finally slowed your pace as you leaned on a lamp post for support, catching your breath. As you looked up, your eyes met the all-too-familiar gaze of Ryusuke. His confused gaze set upon you as he approached you with caution. "(Y/n)..?" The sickly-looking boy gazed at you, cold sweat trailing down his cheek as he took in your disheveled appearance. With the haunting image of the Intersection Pretty Boy flashing in your mind, you chuckled as you smiled at Ryusuke. Finally, in the presence of a familiar face, the veil of caution and fear slowly slipped from your mind, leaving only a tiny stain of vigilance within your mind.

"Ryusuke! " A sigh of relief escaped from your lips which curled into a smile that Ryusuke reciprocated with an uneasy smile, shoving his hands in the pocket of his uniform slacks. The fragile smile on his face dropped, unease flooding through his eyes as he looked at you as he spoke. "I didn't expect that I'd see you here…" With his hands still in his pocket, he walked past you. The Black-Clothed Ghost loomed over you, and he stood with his back straight. Ryusuke, though he hid his hands in his pocket, walked with a slouched back and heavy shoulders.

"… The fog's heavy. You should go home." He said as he looked at you over his shoulder. Unlike the ghost, who seemed at home in the fog, Ryusuke seemed like a fearful prey within the heavy fog. As his figure disappeared into the heavy fog, you struggled to take in your surroundings through the heaviness of the fog. Relief flooded over you the moment you recognized the streets.

You were finally near your home.

Finally, inside the safety of your home, you hurried towards the privacy of your room and into the comfort of your bed. After your eventful walk back home, you were too tired to get back up from your bed to change out of your uniform. The softness of the bed was just too comforting for you to leave as your eyes shut, slipping into your dreams.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself on the cold streets of Nanchou-Shi. Upon noticing the familiar fog surrounding you, your eyes widened as you sat up and looked around. Echoes of steady footsteps reached your ears, sending your blood running cold as you turned your head to see the all-too-familiar silhouette of a looming figure.

As the silhouette grew nearer and nearer, your mind began to yell at you to run. But as you tried to stand and run, you couldn't. Your body felt as if it was frozen, glued in place. Why? You couldn't move your own body, and he was nearing you. His eyes were an empty void of lifeless white. With his red-stained smile, you could feel his gaze on you.

At last, you managed to stand to your feet, taking your steps back, away from him. Set on running away from him, you finally turned away and ran deeper into the endless fog. You couldn't tell where you were going. Your mind plagued with fear as the sounds of his footsteps didn't seem to disappear the more you tried to run from him.

It only seemed as if your attempt was futile. Wordlessly, he appeared from within the fog and walked past you. Each time he opened those red-colored lips, you ran faster, not wanting to hear any words coming out of his mouth. The more you ran, the more it seemed like you were in a desolate town. You expected to run into someone, perhaps Ryusuke, but there was no one except the Black-Clothed Ghost.

Feeling your heart hammer through your ribs as you ran deeper within the fog, breathing felt heavy as your body gave out. You didn't know how long you were running, and the more you ran, the more pointless it seemed. Countless turns and intersections greeted you, and it only seemed like you were running in circles. No matter how many turns you took, he's always there.

Leaning on a wall as you tried to catch your breath, you lifted your head to find the heartless ghost walking past you with an eerie smile. As you watched him walk past an intersection, a sigh escaped your lips. The momentary relief washed over you as you thanked your luck that you stopped on the length of the walls and not its corners.

Resting your head against the wall behind you, you closed your eyes in hopes of waking up. This was a dream, you were sure of it…

… And you woke up. Not on the streets, and most certainly not on your bed. Turning your head to look over your shoulder, you found yourself leaning against a person's leg. Standing with the back facing you, you let your eyes wander upwards only to find him again. His hands hidden in his pockets, his lithe figure loomed over you who remained on the ground.

Turning his head, he looked over his shoulder. Though his eyes were empty, you felt his gaze at you, felt him staring at you with the seemingly amused smile still on his red-stained lips.

And as his red lips parted, his voice rung to your ears, his words echoing in your mind.

"Never return."

[triptychgrip]

What if a drunken/accidental livestream led the public to find out about the Sochi banquet, four years after the fact?

MOTHERing_Heights commented: 12-09-2019 at 07:15am Love your posts, as always.

Regarding theories as to how the ISU kept banquet details from leaking…we all know the organization is all but broke, so they probably didn’t bribe any of the skaters to not mention it through $$$. More than likely, Viktor “I Have Gorgeous Eyes But Cross Me And I’ll Shoot Laser Beams Out Of Them” Nikiforov probably made every banquet attendee swear not to leak anything, realizing Yuuri might not want that level of media attention.

We now know Viktor didn’t realize Yuuri was that drunk, so his desire for discretion back then was probably more along the lines of “well I’m so famous and this level of scrutiny is something Yuuri probably isn’t used to, best to keep this quiet” and less of the “Woe is me! My future husband was trashed the night he captured my soul, gotta keep this hush hush” variety.

1 response to MOTHERing_Heights Lets_Get_You_To_Bed_Grandma commented: 12-09-2019 at 07:25am ajldkfjlskdaldkflskdf “Woe is me! My future husband was trashed the night he captured my soul…” This honestly sent me to the moon....why is this totally something Viktor would have thought?!

I’m now imagining him pacing and hand-wringing in his/Yuuri’s hotel room at the Barcelona GPF the night he found out that Yuuri didn’t know (the same night of their engagement, apparently?!). Oh, to be a fly on that wall…

And speaking of hand-wringing, can we all spare a moment of silence for the freaking PINING Viktor must have undergone during that 4 month gap between Sochi and hauling ass to Japan?? I’m wondering if he consoled himself in the meantime by commissioning a fanfic writer to bring to life all of his lovelorn fantasies on the page? Or, perhaps he went the route of us mere mortals and stalked Yuuri’s (formerly nonexistent) social media outlets? LMAO

---

Ahh, in-universe social media freak-outs: I love writing them, and the above excerpt/text message image is from my latest one-shot: part 1 of an eventual 3-part series about the aftermath in the event that the public finds out about the Sochi GPF Banquet shenanigans, four years after the fact.

As in: well after the Yuuri of my fic-verse wins gold at the 2018 Winter Olympics, as well as after he and Viktor get married.

The ensuing chaos has the potential for humor, of course, but also major feels, which is what attracted me to wanting to write about it in the first place

In my fic-verse, our YOI faves are having a hell of a time in Turin, Italy, enjoying themselves at the 2019 GPF Banquet, which ends up being a celebration of Yuuri winning his second GPF title (just a few points ahead of Yurio).

Due to Mila and Sara's peer pressure, Yuuri and Yurio drink far too much of the locally reknown grappa, which leads them to 1) set off together in search of more substantial food than the slim hors d'oeuvres pickings, and 2) accidentally go live on Instagram while discussing what went down in Sochi (well, it's more like Yurio slurring in his explanation and Yuuri interjecting now and again with incoherent "wait a secccc, tha' wuzz me? I did that?!" exclamations)

Needless to say, when a few Yuri's Angels record the live and upload it online, the internet EXPLODES; up until this point, everyone had believed Yuuri and Viktor's relationship origins to be pretty straightforward: they've been together since October 2016 and since then, they've never hinted at anything even slightly chaotic happening in Sochi.

Part 1 focuses on everyone's initial reactions the morning after Yuuri and Yurio's livestream; part 2 will be hurt/comfort-focused, as both Viktor and Yuuri grow insecure (though, for very different reasons); and the final part will feature Yuuri and Viktor hosting their own (sober) livestream to "take command of the narrative", as Yuuri's extremely stressed publicist suggests

I hope this overview piques your interest in my story, or encourages you to check out my other Yuri!!! on Ice works

[oneluckydragon]

GODDDDDD.. I SAW THE TAGS THAT YOU LEFT ON MY POSTS AND I AGREE WITH YOU SO MUCH.

Erida and Echo are such an interesting duo and honestly I can see Erida having even bigger of a struggle in trying to approach Echo first. Mainly because she's most definitely aware that her behavior and mannerisms resemble too much of Dusknoir's and if she were to ever find out about what the guy did to Echo and Sora.. yeah she'll be extremely careful when approaching out of fear to not set off any alarms (because it's already enough that someone she resembles who was nice turned out to be evil, what's stopping her from just ending up like him?). But once she regains her memories of her past life and finds out about Echo's origins as well? she'll be so worried for her. even when they both hailed from different worlds and acted differently, Erida will at least try to comfort Echo in her eternal self-struggle with her past, be it by trying to comfort her or at least be the shoulder she has to lay on when things get rough emotionally. She won't try to be pushy about it but she'll let Echo know that she isn't alone in her struggles and that Erida is just one call away if she ever needs her.

AND GAIA AND SORA.. don't even get me started.

I think what truly separates between Gaia and Erida and their backstories is that whereas Erida had her memories screwed over twice and didn't find out about who she was until later on, Gaia was aware of who she was/is on day 1. From the moment she landed on the Grass Continent, she knew what she was and what she hailed from, but masked her feelings about it and just saw everything that had happened as a second chance for a better life. And while she would absolutely love Sora just as much, her aura sensing abilities would scare Gaia a bit because a part of her tells her that the whole reason people treated her a bit nasty is because parts of her past life and soul just flared like an aura that set them off and told them exactly what they had to know about her, even if shes redeemed. but for Sora to know all of that and tolerate Gaia, and even go as far as ENJOYING her company??? that little claydol would cry tears of joy (if she had tear ducts, that is.). Just the idea of having a friend and someone who wants her around besides Erida is so foriegn to her that she might even doubt a bit and think that her chain is getting yanked. but once she knows it's legit, you bet that she'll levitate all happily around and be just as happy as Sora is.

they all mean so much to me... (sorry if i rambled too hard in your askbox... your girlies have taken a part in my head as well so the feeling is mutual.)

s1nn0hh OH MY GOD. I love your girlies. I love them SO much. The fact I wrote out all those tags and spammed you so much and you STILL took the time to respond with this!! I am unwell!!!

Erida being the one to struggle even more than Echo in the first stages of their friendship messes me up (Erida being so kind and patient and gentle because she's working on her own self-image and perception and AUGH I love her).

Echo is pretty bold so I can definitely see her warming up to Erida first despite the fact that Erida resembling Dusknoir so much brings back some harsh memories. But Echo could care less though. Erida is not Dusknoir and so she has nothing to do with those unfortunate experiences. And the idea of these two girlies being friends and UNDERSTANDING each other makes me unhinged. And Echo is so ferocious when it comes to protecting those she cares about (she will NOT lose another friend, she'll use her abilities to shelter the ones she loves) so if anyone even LOOKED at Erida cross-eyed once they're friends Echo would tear them apart.

(I am now thinking of a cute idea that when Echo and Erida laugh or feel happy together their gold rings glow in sync and light up and it's the most adorable thing I've ever considered in my entire life). They're like... nightlight besties. I love that for them.

And Gaia and Sora! I talked about this already but you agreeing that Gaia would adore Sora too once she realized that Sora genuinely likes her and enjoys having her around is!!! THE BEST!!! THING!!!

Sora would be so enamored with Gaia I am TELLING you. She is the type to write out letters to friends just to update them on even the most menial, but sweet things. Like flowers she saw that day which reminded her of Gaia's coloring. Or good food that she had and it made her think of happy memories w/ her friends. Or something like, "Gaia! Today, Echo and I visited Shaymin Peak. While climbing I picked up a little trinket called a Sky Gift and the Shaymin tell me that it's an item meant to be shared with those you care deeply about, otherwise the item inside will cease to exist when opened. Of course I thought of you! I hope it ends up being something worthwhile. Write to me soon!" (and the item ends up being a friend bow!!)

I'm sorry I'm just emotional over the idea of Gaia doubting Sora's friendship with her (because surely Sora /knows/ something is wrong with her, she can sense aura and thus Sora should fear her) but then a SKY GIFT manifests an item symbolizing their bond w/ each other and it's a FRIEND BOW. If that isn't the most literal "Sora adores you" moment in the world, then I don't know what else is.

To sum it up, Sora loves with her entire heart and she'd make no exceptions for Gaia. I want them to hang out all the time. I will not take criticism. c:

[nyxshadowhawk]

A Jungian Reading of Jekyll and Hyde

We finally come to the end of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I saw a comment that @gerrysherry left on another post asking for a Jungian reading, so I thought I would take the excuse to go off about my favorite psychological concept. Strap in, because I have thoughts.

Jekyll describes himself as “composite,” both good and evil, while Hyde is pure evil. In a Jungian reading, Hyde is Jekyll’s Shadow. This means that he is an expression of the repressed side of Jekyll’s personality. He is everything about Jekyll that Jekyll is ashamed of, not just his secret desires and pleasures but also his violent impulses and wanton cruelty. I argue that the reason why this ends so tragically for Jekyll is because he fails to integrate Hyde; and, in fact, actively attempts to segregate the halves of himself.

The first thing that Jekyll tells us in his statement is that he’s really, really repressed:

Hence it came about that I concealed my pleasures; and that when I reached years of reflection, and began to look round me and take stock of my progress and position in the world, I stood already committed to a profound duplicity of life. Many a man would have even blazoned such irregularities as I was guilty of; but from the high views that I had set before me, I regarded and hid them with an almost morbid sense of shame. 

The Victorians were already repressed, but Jekyll is even more repressed. He feels deeply ashamed about these nameless “pleasures” (which, let’s be honest, is probably just being gay) and distances him from his conscious personality. He doesn’t want these secret parts of himself to influence his public reputation, or otherwise interfere with the image of himself that he presents to the world. So, he buries them deep down, hiding them not just from the world, but from himself. He already feels like he has a dual nature even before the mad science gets involved.

Jekyll’s intention with the mad science is essentially to give himself Dissociative Identity Disorder, I think. He wants to separate the “good” self from the “evil” self, and have them live independently from each other. Honestly, knowing what I know of DID, I fail to understand how that would be much better. I don’t think he ever really thought this through. But he finds that he cannot do this. He doesn’t end up with a purely good self and a purely evil self, he ends up with his normal self and a purely evil self. The purely evil self, Hyde, is literally just Jekyll with his inhibitions removed and his repressed aspects brought to the surface. Apart from that and his changed appearance, Jekyll isn’t any different. He initially acknowledges this, that Hyde is just himself but in Shadow form:

I felt younger, lighter, happier in body; within I was conscious of a heady recklessness, a current of disordered sensual images running like a millrace in my fancy, a solution of the bonds of obligation, an unknown but not an innocent freedom of the soul. I knew myself, at the first breath of this new life, to be more wicked, tenfold more wicked, sold a slave to my original evil; and the thought, in that moment, braced and delighted me like wine. I stretched out my hands, exulting in the freshness of these sensations; and in the act, I was suddenly aware that I had lost in stature.

Here, he’s talking about Hyde in the first person. He feels younger, more reckless, and more wicked, but he otherwise hasn’t changed. He’s still aware of and in control of his actions. Hyde, being a Shadow, is both everything Jekyll does not to be associated with and everything he secretly wants to be. So, he goes for it. He lets out all of his repressed crap, indulges in his “undignified” pleasures, and then returns to his conscience. Hyde is still Jekyll, but with a unique opportunity to resolve his midlife crisis and live it up with no consequences. 

A lot of adaptations portray Jekyll as an innocent victim of an evil alter rising up from within and taking over his body. I just watched Moon Knight, so I’ve been thinking about Dissociative Identity Disorder for these last few days. (If you haven’t seen it, Moon Knight is AFAIK one of the best portrayals of DID in media.) In Moon Knight, Marc and Steven are literally separate people that share the same body, to oversimplify a bit. Steven has no awareness of Marc at first, experiences amnesia and blackouts, and has no control over Marc’s actions at all. Despite how adaptations might make it look, Jekyll and Hyde emphatically do not work like that. Jekyll and Hyde are the same person. They don’t just share the same body, they are literally the exact same person. 

That means that there is no meaningful difference between Jekyll and Hyde. Everything Hyde indulges in is something that Jekyll already enjoys. Everything Hyde does is something Jekyll already wants to do. Everything Hyde is responsible for, Jekyll is equally responsible for, because they’re the same person. 

Jekyll never fully comes to terms with this, and that’s where he goes wrong. “It was Hyde, after all, and Hyde alone, that was guilty. Jekyll was no worse; he woke again to his good qualities seemingly unimpaired.” He never makes any real attempt to confront or deal with these dark desires of his, he just shoves them off into a secret double life. So, when the halves of his life start to overlap against his will, what does he do? He freaks out, and starts repressing Hyde again, even worse this time: “I led a life of such severity as I had never before attained to.” His answer is not to try to understand Hyde, take responsibility for his actions, or reconcile his shame. Instead, he locks his Shadow up again, with even tighter mental padlocks. But once the Shadow has been let out to play, it doesn’t go back in the dark easily. Jekyll “began to be tortured with throes and longings, as of Hyde struggling after freedom.” Repressing Hyde has made him feel like he has an internal monster straining to break free and wreak havoc, instead of Hyde being a relatively superficial shift in appearance and mindset. 

One commonly accepted reading of this is as an addiction metaphor, especially because it’s followed up by a relapse in which Jekyll takes his drug again and commits an act of senseless violence. From a Jungian perspective, though, Hyde’s actions are worse when he finally breaks free because Jekyll’s repression of him had been so severe. Jekyll got scared and shoved down his Shadow, so when his Shadow bursts forth, all of the repressed desires and impulses that compose Hyde manifest themselves in the most horrifying way. The more Jekyll represses his darkness, the bigger it grows; the brighter the light, the darker the Shadow. It festers like a wound unattended. So, the pendulum swings all the way back in the other direction, and the violence feels good: “With a transport of glee, I mauled the unresisting body, tasting delight from every blow...” 

It’s after the horror of having murdered someone that Jekyll starts intentionally dissociating himself from Hyde more and more. He speaks of Hyde in the third person, because he can’t bring himself to admit that Hyde’s actions are his own. He starts to speak of Hyde the way many adaptations portray him: as if he were an uncontrollable evil force, rising from within in an attempt to take over and destroy him. He even dehumanizes Hyde, describing him as a kind of beast: “He, I say—I cannot say, I. That child of Hell had nothing human; nothing lived in him but fear and hatred.” Then he speaks of Hyde and Jekyll as if they’re different people entirely, with different motivations and desires. Then he speaks of Hyde as something “inorganic” -- not only inhuman, but unalive -- the “slime of the pit�� and “amorphous dust.” He’s so desperate to disassociate himself from his Shadow that he insists his Shadow is inhuman dead matter.

Hyde is not actually becoming a separate being as the story goes along. Jekyll is slipping further and further into denial. As I said before, there’s no meaningful difference between Jekyll and Hyde. Jekyll’s failure to realize this is his undoing. The more Jekyll denies that Hyde is himself, the more his Shadow manifests involuntarily. When he self-righteously pats himself on the back for the charity work that he did to assuage his own guilt, Hyde nearly takes over completely. 

So what should Jekyll have done? This is where the Shadow concept doesn’t fully line up with Stevenson’s worldbuilding. Hyde is literally pure evil -- everyone can see it in his face. The Shadow is not actually evil, it’s just the parts of you that you refuse to acknowledge. This is usually because you personally believe them to be evil, or because your culture has taught you that they are evil, but that doesn’t mean they actually are. Jekyll’s premise was flawed from the beginning. It’s not possible to separate a human being into good and evil halves. This is because there isn’t really such thing as inherent “good” or “evil.” Who decides what’s “good” and what’s “evil”? Victorians? Humans are nuanced. All parts of oneself are there for a reason and have value, because they can be helpful or harmful in different situations. Jekyll should have taken responsibility for his actions as Hyde, but he also should have found healthy outlets for his darker desires instead of beating himself up over them. Maybe fantasize about killing someone you hate and then move on with your life, instead of snapping and actually doing it! Jekyll should have integrated the two halves of himself instead of doing everything in his power to separate them. 

Your Shadow is half of yourself, and if you repress it, then you lose all the potentially positive aspects of it. If you repress pride, you lose your self-confidence. If you believe that power and ambition are the root of all evil, you may lose your leadership skills or ability to be assertive. If you believe sexuality is evil... well, that’s kinda self-explanatory.  The answer here is, ultimately, self-love.  Your Shadow is you, and it still wants what’s best for you, it just has a very different idea of what that means. The least you can do is hear it out and give a hug, instead of locking it back in your subconscious dungeon. 

It’s extremely difficult to admit to and then to come to terms with your Shadow. It’s a dark night of the soul. It’s a long and laborious process, in which you’ll have to reassess your identity. There are other works of media that I think demonstrate how to do it healthily, like The Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula LeGuin (although, just watch, I can make any story about Shadow work). You’re not alone, you’re not evil or sick, and you’re not a hypocrite for having a Shadow. Most people have them, and making friends with your Shadow is a genuinely wonderful thing. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I can’t wait to analyze The Picture of Dorian Gray next!

I leave you with this masterpiece of an animatic, by S.K. Michels. Speaking from experience, this is how Shadow work sometimes feels. (Also, this artist’s portrayal of Jekyll/Hyde looks scarily like an OC I use to represent my own Shadow, so this video hits particularly hard for me). 

[ravenlking]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 finally, i get my own happily ever after. because the words written on your wrist...is my name

gender-neutral warnings: - spoilers for cater and trey's ceremonial robe vignettes genre: angst + fluff a/n: - the cameos are back!! - pictures don't belong to me, they go to their original owners! - please give me feedback :)

Let me know if you'd like more!

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

"And Cater," Riddle turned to face the jovial senior. The dorm leader was perched atop his throne, a hand gripping the documents while the other was holding onto his scepter of power. "You're free for today. You may be excused."

Nodding, Cater walked away, ignoring the pleading looks of the poor seconds years who stirred Riddle's ire. Although, he had to admit that Riddle was right in punishing them. Honestly, who thought playing golf indoors was a good idea?

Cater Diamond sighs as he throws himself onto his bed. At last, he was free of anything school-related, free of the strange, whimsical rules of Heartlsabyul - here, in his room, he was absolutely free! Smiling, he rolled around until his hand grasped the familiar shape of his phone and began scrolling through Magicam. Bright, colorful pictures from his online friends, followers, and idols assaulted his eyes as he winced, turning down his brightness. He quickly resumed his routine, scrolling, liking, scrolling, liking, until he reached the end of the latest posts.

"Hmm," He wondered aloud,"I wonder what my friends are doing!" He tapped on a friend of his's Magicam account and scrolled through their latest post. Raven King just posted a picture of her wrist and herself at a cafe; the caption reading: "I don't need a soulmate when I have macarons and coffee! :D #soulmate #HappyForeverAlone #FictionalMenOverRealMen"

Cater let out a scoff under his breath. Soulmates, how dare she carelessly dismiss them. At least, she still had a chance of having a soulmate. At least, Raven got her chance of falling in love someday! He couldn't make out the ebony-black writing underneath Magicam's blurred out editing, but he knew that Raven had a soulmate somewhere out there, waiting for her.

Cater threw his phone to the side before looking at his wrists. Although he knew it was hopeless, some part of his soul desperately cried out for the smallest of blessings from some deity above.

Soulmates; someone destined to match with your soul, like two puzzle pieces reuniting to form a beautiful image. Someone who understands you like no other, loves you as if you were a treasure they spent lives searching for, someone who will always be there for you - Cater Diamond has been dreaming of someone like that ever since he heard of such a person. He's been waiting for his own happily ever after - so why didn't the deity above gift it to him?

What has he done to earn their ire? Why does it have to be him who suffers?

From young, Cater has already lost more friends than he could count because of the constant moving. He's lost his source of happiness and joy in his childhood because he knows that sometimes it's best to clam up and not spent hours on a friendship which won't even last a year.

Why does it have to be him who loses his soulmate too?

Everyone on Magicam has theirs already. Not a day goes by without a new couple uniting with their other half or aesthetically-pleasing date pictures being posted with sugary-sweet smiles and so much love in their eyes. Cater couldn't help the hurting pang! in his heart (or was it his soul) whenever he saw them.

"Ahh," Cater laughs depressingly to himself. "I've dived too deep down the rabbit hole of depression again!"

He flung the bedsheets off him before setting aside his phone. Just scrolling through it would only remind him of all the sadness that he wants to avoid. Maybe looking at the sunset would do him good. His view from Heartslabyul wasn't too shabby, in fact, he had a glorious window view of the sunset over the pocket dimension of Heartslabyul from his balcony!

The sun was just setting over the edges of the dimension, painting the sky in streaks of bright orange and coloring the fluffy clouds in pinks. He could faintly make out the shape of the crescent moon that has begun to peak out.

It has been a while since he was able to put away all technology and social media for a peaceful sunset like this. All his filters and editing were nothing compared to the nature-beauty of the natural sunset.

Something quick, the color of pure snow, flashed across the night sky. Cater stood at attention, emerald eyes tracking it. A shooting star, symbolizing new dreams and wishes to be granted. But this early? It hasn't even been seven yet. He had seen so many people post about how their wishes were miraculously granted after wishing upon a star. Maybe he should try? If not, he'll just laugh it off. He had nothing to lose anyways. Cater clasped his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

Please, he prayed. Grant me my soulmate. I don't know what I did to stir your ire, but please forgive me. I promise to love them with all my heart and soul. I promise to make their days nothing but filled with light and joy.

He cracked open an eye. The night sky was barren of the shooting star. Whether it heard him or not doesn't matter. Cater's hands slumped to his sides. It was getting late, he should try sleeping a bit. Maybe it would do his unhealthy brain some good. He turned on his heel and walked back.

"Hehe, Cater sweetheart, don't you know that we save the best for last?"

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Cater Diamond is pleased when the Ceremony ends. He has had a rough time "spawning" copies of himself to paint half the roses in the Rose Garden red. As per the Queen of Heart's rules, to greet newcomers, the roses have to be white and red. Nothing else and the same sentiment was carried out by the fearsome dorm leader of Heartslabyul, Riddle Rosehearts. He was sad that he wasn't able to attend the majority of the Opening Ceremony (seeing the fearful looks on his juniors' face was perfect for future jokes) and playing "Guess the Dorm!" with Trey was always delightful.

He sighed, leaning against one of the multiple hedges grown with much painstaking care from Heartslabyul students. Their efforts were not in vain; Cater could see how the hedge was positively brimming with life.

Finally, peace and quiet. The Unbirthday Party held in honor of the new students from Heartslabyul was delightful as always, but as much as Trey's cooking is delicious, Cater could not stand the sweetness of the tarts. They were aesthetically-beautiful, as expected from the son of a professional baker family, but Cater's poor tongue cried from the sugary sweet taste of each bite. Thankfully, he was able to be excused quickly enough and sought out the Rose Maze for a safe haven.

"Now, let's see," Cater beamed as he took out his phone, quickly tapping on the Magicam app. There was no time to waste! His make-up was perfect, the Rose Maze was a beautiful backdrop, and the sunset was gorgeous! What better moment to take a picture than right now?

As he motioned to take a picture, raising his hand to get the perfect angle, his Ceremonial robes' sleeves slid downwards and Cater's emerald eyes widened drastically. There, written as clear as day, was a name. But not any old name - it was the name of his soulmate.

"No way," He breathed out, shoving his phone into his pocket and reading the name aloud. "Y/N L/N, I've never heard of this name before!"

Pushing off from the hedges, Cater dashed out of the maze. There was no time like the present, he must find his soulmate! He has had enough years of waiting; Y/N L/N, I'll find you soon enough!

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

You felt yourself being glomped from behind, making you stumble forward. You heard the headmaster, Crowley was his name?, let out a shout of surprise before it was masked by the thankful mumbles and squeals from the man hugging you.

"Um, sir?" You gently pried off the hands from around your waist but kept them in yours as you whirled around. You met eyes with a tall senior with bright orange hair, donned in the same strange robes as your own. His emerald eyes were overwhelming with glistening tears as he stared at your wrists.

You followed his line of sight to meet bold ebony-black writing on your arm.

"What on earth?" You gaped at the words on your wrist. As far as you knew, you never got a tattoo! You were sure of it! Why was everything happening so weirdly; first you woke up almost being boiled alive by some strange tanuki and now this-

"Sir, please explain!" You desperately looked at Crowley, who had his jaw dropped and golden eyes widened beneath his mask. "Sir??"

The man in front of you laughed before pulling back his own sleeve to reveal your own name imprinted on his, written in the exact same font. He grinned cheerfully at you and somehow, you got the feeling that this man was going to be the sole owner of your heart, soul, and mind. Something about him felt so warm, so safe, like a little place to go when you feel weak to be re-charge.

"The name's Cater!" He gave you a little peace symbol before popping a kiss on your wrist, where his name was written.

"But you, my little soulmate, may call me Cray-Cray, as in cray-cray about you~"

You laughed as you got swept away by the man's charms.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Somewhere, far away from Night Raven College, a girl with ebony-black hair and violet eyes sighed as she switched off her phone, the last app on it being Magicam. She took a make-up cleanser and wipped away the illegible scribbles on her wrist. Her mission was complete, she should leave now. She had stirred the feelings needed within Cater in order to find you, and the happy couple was on their way now. But once again, Raven had no feelings, no desires to leave. In fact, she desperately wanted to cling to the magic of this world she loved oh so much. Couldn't she stay, just for a longer time? Her wrist-watch beeped as her time here came to a close.

Raven let out a painful sigh before taking one last bite of her macarons and drank the last of her coffee. Sliding the madols underneath her empty coffee cup, Raven took one last look around the happy ambiance of the cafe. Her heart sunk at the prospect of leaving, but her mind won in the end. Raven reluctantly tapped her feet, disappearing in a wave of purple. Similar to a certain dragon fae's magic, the only thing left of Raven was purple butterflies who slowly flew out of the chamber, leaving no trace of the girl.

A short woman with deep green hair came out of the kitchen, pushing an empty trolley. She moved the table where the girl with ebony-black hair once sat and quickly wiped the table clean for the next customers. She smiled as she held up the little note she left behind.

"Thank you for the delicious treats and warm hospitality, Mrs. and Mr. Clover! I hope to return to your bakery soon."

~ R.L.K

[kiwibirdlafayette]

Hey there! What happens in your Mamma Mia/Trollhunter AU? And how do you feel about the Childhood Friend Romance trope, have you seen it done poorly or good? I’m thinking of how to write Draal’s death for my own fanfic, but what kind of heroic sacrifice should I give him?

Heya! Sorry its taken me a hot minute to get to this ask I honestly kinda forgot I had a TH Mamma Mia AU its been so long xD

From what I can find (since I dont believe I ever wrote anything down and only really made one drawing for it xD) I remember it mainly followed the plot of the musical, with Deya as Donna, and Aaarrrgghh as Sophie (and ofc Blinky is Sky because troll dads solos i've never faltered on that) IIRC, the changeling trio (Otto, Strickler and Nomura) were the mystery dads, but it was more about who 'created' him because I might have been goin by canon troll creation headcanons with the whole rock magic shit xD I also didnt ship any of em with Deya but it still couldve been crack at that. GummGumm experimentation couldve been a thing too.

It was nearly a fully troll dads AU but my OTP brain was like nah man I don't wanna make potential other pairings besides Blink n Aaarrggghh so theyre Soph and Sky (plus. lay all your love on me troll dads. can you just imagine AOUGH /pos leavin yall w that image)

Childhood friends to lovers is a really good trope! I've definitely seen it done really well and also not that great, and I've used it myself as well (Trollhunters marching band AU, c!Skizzpulse, origins Syndisparklez) I find it tends to work better when its not so much a blatant "ok now were older and adults we obviously have to go beyond just friends its obligatory" but more like "ive known you a long time, and maybe i fell in love you for other reasons then that but you're still my friend and we just get each other because we're already so close", like its gotta develop beyond just growing up in someway for me to really be invested in it xD

and oo sacrifice love me a good sacrifice :eyes: I don't know the plot of your fic, but if ya do wanna have him sacrifice himself, doing so against the will of the others is always peak angst (i.e., like Jim is meant to die or something, and Draal takes the fall instead before anyone else or him can give in)- that could be stuff like being the vessel for taking in the evil to prevent it from harming anything else, or taking out the big bad with him to save the rest of them :3 Trading his soul for someone else to live would also be kinda cool, or if you want it a battle scene, using himself as the weapon that ends the final boss smiles

[once1upon1a1wonderland]

I Wonder What Ramshackle Is Based Off Of..... Part 2

Okay, so back to the pictures....

(Still may contain Spoilers for book 6....)

Contin. with pictures of ramshackle after a good scrub down:

And now finally, after the redesign:

(I know the bedroom is not really redesigned but rather just an image created by the magical projector, but I'm including it anyway.)

Alright, so yeah ramshackle and the main school building have a lot of similar colors going on. Same with the library. Which I guess makes sense..... Anyways, my point with these posts are simply that; what if the only reason for ramshackle originally existing was simply to just have a place to house students while the other dorms were being built?

I agree that there are still some mysteries surrounding Ramshackle. Like, I don't entirely buy Crowleys reason that he gave for the dorm becoming abandoned in the first place..... And honestly dude.... why on earth did you let it fall to such disrepair......

But at any rate, perhaps ramshackle was just the temporary dorm at one point. After the dorms dedicated to the great 7 were finished, would ramshackle have still been in use? Maybe. It's possible..... and would ramshackle have had students assigned to it? Again, perhaps..... It's interesting to think about. Like, what if someone came to the school and didn't really match up enough with any of the great 7? What if they had a soul that could hold a little bit of each of the great 7? Like ramshackle could have been a place that was continued to be put to use for a time even after the other dorms were completed. And could have been used as a place where certain individuals represented all of the great 7 as a whole. (Considering that no one has been assigned to this dorm again for years, my guess would be maybe the dark mirror knows to not assign anyone there anymore.... I don't know.) Or maybe it was just the temporary dorm building. Still, it's fun to speculate.

Now our little building is just this abandoned place that no one goes near.... well except for Malleus. Hey, if you want a guaranteed spot to hang out and be alone where no one will find you, Ramshackle is perfect!

Anyways, there is the obvious elephant in the room that could point to what Ramshackle represents symbolically.

What about Mickey?

Well, I don't know the significance of that yet.... I don't know if he's there largely to just pay homage to the character that helped build the Disney company, or if there really will be a bigger reason as to why he's there in the mirror.... I mean I would hope so.... otherwise it would be too random.... (I swear if there is any information on him for book 7, DO NOT COMMENT IT, please. I want to go in blind when book 7 releases. I started the game blind and that's how I'll continue through it. When I first found out about this game I had only seen like two advertisements for it..... and it was teaser stuff. Well, one was a teaser. The other I believe was the main music video. At any rate, I didn't really know what I was getting myself into. Didn't know who the characters were or anything.... Yet somehow, I was intrigued. So please, I would appreciate no spoilers... I know, it's exciting to share stuff... I honestly dont know how I've actually managed to avoid seeing things on social media so far....)

Okay, tangent aside, the room that we sleep in with the mirror, is largely based off of an animated short called: Thru the Mirror.

I think a lot of people know that by now right? Either way, here are the comparison pics:

Very reminiscent of the animated short. It's a nice homage to that animated short. Even if in the end story wise, Ramshackle doesn't represent Mickey Mouse directly, it's cool that they loosely base it off of him...

Actually, you know what? Maybe Ramshackle, or whatever the dorm used to be referred to as, is loosely based off of the mouse.... This is where the symbolic representation comes in. The story starts when the main character is brought into this world right? And then the dreams starting when we're getting close to someone overblotting and after spending that first night in the room..... So Actually, it's fitting that Ramshackle be based off of Mickey. After all, it was all started by a mouse.

And as a side note: Fitting that Pomefiore was the first dorm constructed. For Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, was the one that started them all. (Referring of course to it being the first of many feature length animated films to come.)

That's all I have to say about ramshackle for now. Let me know what you think about the significance of Ramshackle (unless it gives way to chapter 7 spoilers....)

But yeah, until next time!

[archiveikemen]

Abe no Yasuchika Main Story: Chapter 10

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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting┊aikm’s Genjiden Glossary

Yasuchika-san blinked in surprise when I shoved him towards a nearby tree stump.

Yasuchika: Wow, you’re surprisingly pushy.

Yuno: … One thing I’ve learnt is that it’s okay to treat you like this.

After staring at me with a dumbfounded look for a while… Yasuchika-san smiled.

Yasuchika: — Of course.

I finished helping him with a simple bandaging of his finger after a while, and my racing heart finally calmed down.

Yasuchika: Thanks. I owe you one.

Yuno: It’s fine… I only did it because I wanted to.

(Although…)

(The reason why Yasuchika-san went feral during the battle was because he was shown an illusion of Akihito.)

Yuno: Yasuchika-san… can I ask you something about Akihito-sama?

Yasuchika: The thing just now still bothering you?

Yuno: … Honestly, yes.

Yasuchika: I see. I mean, you’ve already seen it all, so there's no need for me to hide it from you anymore.

After a brief moment of silence, Yasuchika-san spoke.

Yasuchika: The scene you saw just now? That was exactly how Akihito-sama and I first met.

Yasuchika: When I was a child, I received ‘special training’ from the Abe Clan.

Yasuchika: Then I sensed a mysterious presence of a spirit in the mansion.

Yuno: And that spirit was Akihito-sama…?

Yasuchika: That's right. Back then, I was the only person who could see Akihito-sama.

(But isn't Akihito-sama a living person? I’m pretty sure I saw him the other day.)

Yasuchika: You noticed? The Akihito-sama you saw in that illusion and the real Akihito-sama look identical.

Yuno: Y-yes. So I’m curious… who exactly is Akihito-sama?

Yasuchika: He was once an ordinary human being, his body sealed away by the Abe Clan.

Yuno: Sealed away? What do you mean…

Yasuchika: Whatever I’m about to say to you… please don't tell anyone.

Yasuchika: Not even the people from the Shogunate.

Yuno: … I won’t.

Yasuchika: I can’t really tell you much details, but his body constitution is unique.

Yasuchika: Before his birth, he was cursed to be born a stillborn. However, he miraculously survived and was thus brought into this world alive.

(So that’s the kind of past Akihito-sama had…)

An image of Akihito-sama’s otherworldly beauty and elegance appeared in my mind.

Yasuchika: But many things happened… Akihito-sama was never happy for a day in his life from ever since he was born.

Yasuchika: He was unloved, cast aside, and betrayed.

Yuno: Goodness…

Yasuchika: He had always suppressed the curse that was bound to his soul by sheer willpower, but…

Yasuchika: As Akihito-sama's tolerance for his pain and suffering reached its limit, the curse went loose and killed everyone around him.

Yuno: …!

Yasuchika: From what I’ve been told, every single Onmyōji had to get involved to deal with the situation.

Yasuchika: They couldn't say for sure what would happen to the curse if they killed Akihito-sama, that's why they ended up sealing him away even though he was a human being.

Yuno: Then… what about the Akihito-sama you saw?

Yasuchika: He was a living spirit. His physical body had been asleep and hidden away deep inside the Abe Clan’s mansion.

Yasuchika: Due to the effects of the spell that was used to seal him away, his body never aged.

Yasuchika: But he was a special kind of living spirit. I was the only person who could see him, because I’m someone from the Abe Clan who was born with that gift.

(He has to possess an extreme amount of hate for another person, to turn into a living spirit.)

Yuno: … That's how deep the wounds Akihito-sama's pain and suffering caused him are.

Yasuchika: Correct. As time went by, the seal was eventually weakened. He started roaming around the mansion as a living spirit without his memories.

= Flashback Start =

Yasuchika: No one enjoys being a living spirit.

Yasuchika: They don’t curse people because they want to.

= Flashback End =

I thought of Yasuchika-san's words after our encounter with that female living spirit.

(He was also talking about Akihito-sama.)

Yuno: But… Akihito-sama appears to be an ordinary man now.

Yasuchika: There was an incident… it caused him to regain his memories and control over his physical body.

(An incident?)

Yasuchika-san’s facial expression was cold, but I could sense that he was fuming.

But that look disappeared from his face almost immediately…

Yasuchika: But that’s another story.

(I’m sure there's a lot more to it, but I know I won’t be hearing anything about it tonight.)

Yasuchika: Anyway, Akihito-sama has been by my side ever since I was a little boy and was like a guiding light for me.

Yuno: A guiding light…

== Flashback Start ==

Akihito: If you’re not a human being, you wouldn't be so warm, right?

Little Boy: But I…

Akihito: If you ever feel lost… I’ll be your guide for as long as you live in this mansion.

Little Boy: Akihito-san?

Akihito: Onmyōji use their power to exorcize curses. That makes it one of the kindest powers in the world.

Akihito: Always remember to be a kind person, Yasuchika.

== Flashback End ==

Yuno: .. “Be a kind person”.

Yasuchika: That's right. He also told me to make use of my powers to help the weak, never give in to greed, and always seek self-improvement.

Yuno: … Akihito-sama was your safe person, wasn't he?

(As a living spirit, Akihito-sama taught the little boy we saw in the illusion about human warmth.)

Yasuchika: He was my everything.

There was not an ounce of insincerity in Yasuchika-san's answer.

Yasuchika: An Onmyōji’s job is more bloody and selfish than people think.

Yasuchika: I can’t truly be the “kind person” Akihito-sama told me to be.

Yasuchika: The most I can do is hold onto my childhood memories and pretend to be kind by doing random acts of kindness on a whim.

Yasuchika: That’s the kind of man I am.

(Pretend…)

(If I’m not mistaken, he said something similar after he saved that young woman who turned into a living spirit.)

His self-deprecating words made my heart ache.

I reflexively reached out to gently hold Yasuchika-san's hand, careful not to touch his injured finger.

Yasuchika: — Yuno-san?

Yuno: You’re so warm. Just like Akihito-sama said.

Yasuchika: …

Yuno: If you keep up your act, then perhaps one day, your pretense will become a reality.

Yasuchika: … You’ve only just met me.

I flinched a little when I heard those words.

Yuno: If I’m going to always be afraid of being wrong, then I’ll never be able to believe in anyone or anything.

Yuno: I want to believe that your hands are warm ones that have saved the lives of many.

Yuno: That’s why, from this moment on, I want you to take extra good care of these hands.

(Please don’t throw away a part of yourself so easily.)

Yasuchika-san gulped.

Yasuchika: …

His eyes with an unreadable look in them slowly approached me…

(Ah…)

Yasuchika-san’s lips lightly pecked my forehead.

Yasuchika: You’re the warm one.

My heart was racing and my body was burning hot.

Yasuchika: Here I was thinking I’m being careful enough.

Yasuchika: How... how did you find your way into my heart?

Yuno: Yasuchika-san…

Yasuchika-san lifted his right hand and touched my hair that had turned silver.

I held my breath as he casually combed my disheveled hair.

Yasuchika: You must be feeling so worn out.

Yuno: Uhm…

I took a few falls while dodging the ayakashi’s attacks, so my kimono was completely ruined.

I suddenly felt self-conscious and tried to shrink away…

Yasuchika: I have no idea why, but you look so gorgeous right now.

Hearing his words that were as sweet as honey while looking into his dark eyes made me gulp nervously.

(Why are you making that face?)

Yuno: Um… is it because my hair and eyes resemble Tamamo’s?

Yasuchika: … Is that so?

Yasuchika: — Nah.

Yasuchika-san took another look at me and shook his head.

Yasuchika: Same color scheme, yes. But you look nothing like Tamamo.

Yuno: I- I see.

(Tamamo is so much more beautiful.)

Yasuchika: The golden color of your eyes is mellow, like the morning sun.

Yuno: Um…

(What am I supposed to say here…)

Yuno: T-thank you.

Yasuchika-san grinned when he saw how red my cheeks had gotten.

Yasuchika: Shouldn't I be the one thanking you?

Yasuchika: You lent me your assistance just now.

(I think I was being protected more than I could be of any help.)

I had a gut feeling that something had changed that night in the relationship between me and Yasuchika-san…

I hoped that the cool night breeze would help cool my burning skin off quickly.