#i had my theories but i didn’t know i’d get confirmation this is so sick

[nellievances]

DAVE MALUCCI THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU!!!!!!!

[seoftbear]

TW

discussing the taeil situation

As I’m sure many of you have seen that Taeil was removed/left NCT due to Sexual Offense Allegations.

“On August 29, the Seoul Bangbae Police Station revealed that the police booked Taeil after a report was filed in June for alleged sexual offense.

According to the police, Taeil is being investigated after being reported by legal adult woman “A.”

source

First off I’d like to say that obviously Im absolutely disgusted with Taeil and this entire thing makes me feel sick. I know they won’t see this but my thoughts are with those effected by this and I’m glad she had the courage to speak out and I hope she gets the support and justice that she wants during this time.

Now I’d like to talk about what has been weighing on me personally about this situation? I tend to stay off of twitter but I’ve seen a lot of links and post being circulated in the last 24 hours about this and it’s been really killing me.

As of now the police have booked Taeil back in June and he is being investigated by police for sexual offense, currently that’s all of the information that’s been confirmed by authorities. (I linked the article above and that has a link to the Naver article too.)

I’m sure some of you guys may be younger and haven’t truly grasped the full gravity of this, but misinformation can really damage cases like this especially as a woman.

Unfortunately the internet spread fake news fast and screenshots and stories have been circulating on twt/tiktok social media in general being translated and mistranslated from numerous different languages and people are just adding to the narrative for the drama it seems like… (please understand that even if something is in a different language and “translated” it does not make it facts.) I’ve seen others ask people where the source was for the information they got and then get called “Taeil defenders” when they just wanted to know where the information came from in the first place. I also read comments where people were saying that it didn’t matter if it was misinformation?

This is someone’s life we are talking about and seeing people say “they can’t wait for certain youtube channels to make videos about this because they need all of the details” or “they’ve been searching for more information all day and have come up with etc etc.” is really disheartening to see it be made into a spectacle. There’s only been one statement from the police as I’m aware of and in under 24 hours twt has finalized and circulated a story that has no source.

Unfortunately this stuff will happen because it’s the internet regardless and people are curious and in shock so wanting details on something is understandable but please understand that this is someone’s life not just backlash and justice against Taeil.

Speaking out isn’t easy and speaking out against a celebrity under big company? I can’t imagine, so please please please think about what you are posting and reposting. It’s not you supporting the victim, it’s just spreading gossip, theories/speculations, and can really tamper with the case guys. This is already a traumatizing experience and now it’s public and people are prying to know details about something so horrible and invasive??? At the end of the day if no statements are released about details or information and you are upset please take a step back and really think what for.

With this Ive seen a lot of people talk about parasocial relationships, how you don’t know these men, all men are men at the end of the day, don’t trust your favs etc etc. Though I definitely agree with you don’t know the people you like at the end of the day, I think that everyone knows that to some extent. However I don’t think parasocial relationship or not knowing someone is to blame when this kind of stuff happens, rather it’s normal to believe that someone you admire/like is cool person especially if portrayed that way. The thing about abusers/assaulters is that they can be anyone, that’s not to say that you shouldn’t trust anyone and that all people/idols are secretly awful but it’s more about that it’s not anyone’s fault for believing that they were a good person. So if anyone is going through that “ I can’t believe I liked someone like that” feeling that’s okay. It’s not your fault and you’re allowed to work through them.

that’s all

sorry if this is too long and makes no sense or comes off wrong or disrespectful please let me know kindly

[beacarrot]

Yes, I think I'm doing it again. One day without you turned into a week, and soon it will become a month, but I refuse to let it stretch to a year, ten years… This text is another open letter to share my experience, especially the grief of losing Liam Payne.

I've been a One Direction fan since I was 14. I discovered the band because of Liam, who, back in his “fetus era,” looked like an Australian actor I had a crush on. One day, while browsing the internet, I came across the name “One Direction.” Honestly, I didn’t feel anything phenomenal in that moment; I had no idea how much that name would change my life and my youth as a whole. I didn’t imagine the hours of research, the nearly one hundred songs memorized, the posters, the fan theories I still hope are true, the Pinterest boards full of images, the photo edits of myself with the boys just to get a taste of what it might be like to be near those five special guys. Fanfiction, imagines… the list goes on.

In the beginning, I even mocked their songs, calling them cliché. A few months later, I knew all the lyrics AND the dance from “Best Song Ever" video clip. Life has a way of transforming our paths when we least expect it, when we’re lost enough for any path to seem fine. But life is generous and shows us the "right direction."

The truth is, it was October 16, 2024. I was coming home from school, crying, and, strangely enough, I had no idea that Liam had passed. I’d been introspective in recent days, reflecting on my last months at school and my amazing friends in class. I’d been listening to One Direction more than usual, and that very day I’d listened to “Stand Up”! I got home and was getting ready to go out again; it was almost 7 p.m.

I remember precisely: my mom looked at me with that expression she used to soften bad news, but it didn’t hide her own anxiety. She said, “I want you to hear this from me, but it’s not someone in the family.” I widened my eyes, jeans halfway on. I felt calm; if it wasn’t family, it wouldn’t hurt that much. But then she said it was something about the band and that one of them had fallen from a hotel balcony and was in bad shape.

My heart skipped one, two, maybe five beats. I don’t remember my tone of voice, but I know it was loud, trying to make my mom remember who it was. When she said “Liam,” I still thought, “Well, he just got hurt, but he’s alive, right?”

“Is he okay?” I asked, near panic. Truly, I wasn’t considering the possibility that he could have passed. But my mom’s words echoed: “No… unfortunately, he’s living with God know.”

My world stopped. I wasn’t even fully dressed, and I started shouting Liam’s name over and over, as if trying to confirm the reality, as if pleading for an answer from the heavens. I looked at the photo beside my bed, which I’ll include in this post, and messaged my friends who were also fans. I cried uncontrollably. I smoked so much in those days that I literally got sick, with a sore throat. Only my mom, my friends from youth group, and school saw my true state. Edu, thank you for putting up with my grotesque sobs on your shoulder. I adore you, friend!

The first night was a nightmare, a heavy and negative energy settled in, but I was clinging to the hope that with sunrise, something might change. But it didn’t. The sun rose, and I relived everything in my head, going over the story, just wishing it was truly a nightmare. I think no one has the right to talk about someone else’s pain. Grief is an individual experience, full of complicated nuances.

I’ve been alternating between suffering, crying to the point of dehydration, listening to the songs while every line hurts. There’s the denial phase, when it feels like it didn’t happen; that Liam is out there somewhere, and we’re still in 2012. Then, the reality drops like a piano falling. And there’s anger: “Is this real? He was so young!” And finally, moments of acceptance, when I smile at the memories and look at the photos, though I’m not completely there yet. Grief isn’t a straight line; you repeat and get lost in these stages, and no one should blame themselves for that.

People have lost the capacity for empathy and humanity. It doesn’t matter if Liam didn’t know me; I knew him. Not personally, of course—he had layers, and that’s one reason we couldn’t imagine how he was self-destructing. But he was a singer with an amazing stage presence, always sweet and attentive with the fans, a real warrior in his personal life, and he certainly made his share of mistakes. He lost his way on the crazy road of life, fame, money, media, relationships, addiction; it drained the hope from that 16-year-old boy who didn’t give up on "The X Factor". Liam is a legend.

There are days I can laugh, listening to the songs and remembering their silly dances, like when I watched “This Is Us” two days after his death. I thought I’d cry, but those boys never make me cry; they only make me smile. What makes me cry are the circumstances surrounding 1D. On other nights, I cry knowing there was nothing I could do. The closest I ever got to him was in a dream once, where the boys were having a party at my house. Liam was sitting in the corner of my room, the same spot where I was when I found out he’d passed. I walked over, asked him about Louis and Zayn, and hugged him. It was a sweet, protective hug. That’s my comfort: imagining his face painted in the beautiful blue sky, knowing he was lost and needed rest. I’ll continue with my contradictory life, and when things get hard and tough here on Earth, I’ll smile because he'll be far away and safe, no longer needing to deal with it all.

I’m still hesitant about watching his funeral online. Since finding out, I’ve stepped back from social media. It cleanses my soul to know I didn’t contribute to the hate, negative energy, dirty jokes, or nasty comments thrown his way, in real life or online. I learned from Liam; I let myself be touched by his essence, loving him completely, and I learned to see the world through the lens of songs and art. Words won’t be enough, Liam. This is not a defective goodbye. I still need you, and even if I can’t see you with my eyes, you’ll live forever.

I can't post something that is not just about it, but I will just continue posting some things because they were already ready before I knew about his death.

Gratitude and strength to all!

I don't like to put black pictures blank in these moments because I don't think it's right black and white because Liam brought and still bring so much color to us.

We love you Liam, our eternal red.❤️

[munsonology]

Hello!

I want to make one final post about the horrors of this week before I move on for my own well-being.

I don’t anticipate anyone to read this. This is mainly for my mental health and anxiety.

This is the most open I’ve ever been here and I’m terrified of sharing. I talk about serious topics below so please be aware if you do take the time to read.

First, all I wanted was to create a safe place for myself, a black girl on the internet. Eddie came into my life when I needed him the most. I was experiencing targeted harassment at the establishment (I still am), so Eddie was my comfort away. My safe place became others’ safe place as well. I’m still proud of that.

My blog was always and will always be 18+ ONLY. I have MDNI in all caps for a reason. I am a grown woman in my late twenties with grown problems and grown stories.

I want to make myself perfectly clear! THIS SPACE IS NOT AND WILL NEVER BE OPEN TO ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18. Please respect that.

I’ll be going through my blog and blocking any blank and underage blogs! So if you are an adult and your age is not anywhere on your page YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

Anon will only be for SFW ONLY! All ANON NSFW ASKS WILL BE DELETED! NSFW TOPICS MUST BE ASKED WITH A REAL BLOG FOR 18+!

Now, I’d like to talk for a second about that disgusting blog. I first came across that blog in November/December 2022. This blog was posting fics in the main Eddie/reader tag. There was no content warning in the tags or in the heading of the post. The only way to know was by reading. I read a few sentences before realizing what this was. It made me sick to my stomach, and they had posted many of them in a row in the Eddie/reader tag.

I immediately blocked and reported them, but I didn’t unlike a post before I did so. That is on me.

I hadn’t seen or heard about that blog since, until Monday. I thought tumblr had removed them. At the time, I thought this was an adult writing this ILLEGAL filth. I didn’t know they were a minor, and quite honestly I have my doubts about that.

My theory is that they hid those fics outside the main Eddie tags, so the only way to see it was if it was reblogged or by scrolling through the specific tags this person put.

Seeing this blog come up again was incredibly upsetting and triggering for me. It’s brought up so many memories I don’t talk about, but I’d like to now.

From time to time, I mention how a fic reminded me of my ballet days. Those are good memories. I participated in ballet from age 5 to age 14 when I quit without notice.

My first ballet school was owned by a husband and wife. The wife was also head instructor. Her husband was a pedophile. It was an open secret. To my knowledge his preference was the older teen girls. I have no confirmation he wasn’t looking at the younger girls as well, he likely was because I’d see him around.

Part of our lessons was stretching by having another girl sit on top of us, widening our legs. We had a name for this day but I don’t wanna share to protect myself. If we weren’t near tears the stretch wasn’t enough so the wife came by and pushed us down. The position we’d be in for a specific stretch is now extremely troubling to me.

He’d hover around during lessons and help the older girls. Too close for how an instructor should be.

For recitals, the wife would have favorites to get better roles, I personally believe those favorites were being groomed. I also believe she had me on her list to be another favorite but I went through puberty early so my body changed. Since I wasn’t super skinny anymore I wasn’t moldeable.

I believe older girls who were violated by the husband would receive recommendations to elite ballet companies. This is based on what I know and info my dad received from one of the more wealthy mothers who allegedly knew about what was going on and used it for her own advantage.

During my time at this school, I witnessed incest around the age of 7 in the dressing room, spit on, had the parent of the child who spit on me slap them in front of me, been sewn into my costume and told not to eat or drink for over 8 hours because they didn’t want to alter it, put on a diet at age 10 which I failed.

I believe someone was going to come forward about the husband when they sold the school and moved out of state. It was very abrupt so I can’t help but assume he was about to be reported.

Seeing people think the absolute worst of me destroyed me and brought up these memories. I’m learning this is still considered trauma.

It makes me sick what survivors had to experience this week. I thank those for sharing their truth. Part of me is nervous about sharing because I wasn’t physically harmed, and I never want to take away from others.

I feel completely violated by those who have infiltrated our safe spaces with those ILLEGAL POSTS and by those who’ve lied about their age.

I want to make myself perfectly clear: I have never and will never in my life condone that behavior. Children are some of the most vulnerable in our society and they need to be protected by any means necessary.

My blog is and will always be a safe place for my fellow bipoc individuals, LGBTQIA+, AAPI, Middle Eastern communities, Latino communities and more.

RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, TRANSPHOBIA, TERFS, COLORISM, PEDOS, MISOGYNY, BULLYING WILL NEVER BE WELCOME HERE. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

I don’t play those fucking games.

We should all take this as a lesson to please read what you’re looking at online, please be careful of what and who you’re interacting with. Please keep your kids safe. The internet is an unforgivable and dangerous place.

I’d like to bring back my post about what’s happening on Pinterest right now. You can find it here. Please be careful over there, the predators are posting actual pics and sharing CSA pics to their boards. Regular users, many who are young girls and women, are having their pics saved to these boards with disgusting comments. PLEASE BE SAFE IF YOU’RE ON PINTEREST AND REPORT WHAT YOU SEE. The sudden wave of this only started within the last couple of months now and their algorithm can’t keep up.

As always my messages are open for anyone who needs to talk no matter what.

— sav ❤️

[ethernetmeep]

i learned today that i seemed to deal with a heavy weight of scrupulosity as a preadolescent child, particularly the religious aspect of it.. then again, my experience with religion as a whole is strange. i’d prefer to discuss this with a person face-to-face of sorts, not to downplay the way i enjoy typing words and sending them out to the general populous of the 7 or so individuals here of course, but just because seeing how it contrasts with another persons way of living would be interesting.

for example, (and this is highly personal, but i feel comfortable sharing it to whomever may see! i am okay being vulnerable, at the moment..) when i was young i have a distinct memory of being petrified to speak alone to a priest. it was an act of confession all the students of the religious education group had to do, but i was horrified. i was afraid of admitting what i’d done, but i didn’t even know if i did anything. i was constantly afraid of being morally wrong, but also afraid to be alone with that man. i remember crying my eyes out to not do it, begging and sobbing, and i somehow managed to get out of it.

i tell my mother that memory and she asks me why i didn’t wish to get out sooner. i wanted to; i just didn’t think she’d believe me, and if she did i didn’t think she would do anything about it. regardless, during many of my years in religious education i was sick to my stomach about it. i personally don’t remember this, likely blocking out the memory due to awful things surrounding it, but by my mothers words one day one of my instructors had apparently told our class anyone who was gay would burn in hell. yeah yeah insert your jokes here, haha, funny funny i get it, (<- sarcasm) but it sincerely and horribly fucked with my young mind. ever since that day, i think i was afraid. i was afraid of dying & going to hell, essentially; even if i didn’t know what i was, i knew i was something different and that i was wrong. abnormal.

i think back on those days. i think about a young child being abnormally afraid of something that was originally supposed to be comforting. it probably was at a younger age, and although possibly comforting in theory the religion itself isn’t one i particularly cling with. i have more bad memories than good. i still feel awful for disappointing my grandmother by never completing my confirmation. the only reason i went on with it for so long was because of both being forced to and simultaneously because i was told it would help with marriage. there was no real benefit; i didn’t believe in it, only did it because i had to, and by the time you as a individual got older they stopped giving out snacks. that was the only part i enjoyed

..anyway, take all this as you will. ive since seemed to grow out of the intense paranoia i had as a child, but it occasionally manages to seep back in. learning there was a term for this & that i hadn’t just been crazy was both very comforting & simultaneously a punch to the gut. apparently i have a severe case of OCD tendencies.. which lines up, with both genetics and the entire way i function anyway. i also have had a pretty prominent sort of acknowledgment for what is definitely over a year now that i have autism to some degree.. its almost uncomfortably obvious in the way i function, i think. professional diagnosis is long and expensive. i’ve been asking for months about if i go have a sort of check up of sorts with the man who proctored me. probably been waiting for over a year; nothing. it is what it is, i suppose

the reason i say this is many things; the rather blatant fact i am confused by statements like ‘apple of my eye’ or ‘heart on my sleeve’, although i know what they mean, they’re still perplexing to me. why not just say someone is unique? heart on ones sleeve is a bit easier to comprehend so therefore i don’t really have a thing to translate it to, but i digress.. maybe its because im very literal. i notice intricate details and remember niche unimportant memories. im awful at reading social cues. sometimes i seem be make others uncomfortable without knowing. this ends up making me viscerally mad and upset at myself, as i frequently get frustrated with my own inability to read social situations well. what i would categorize as a special interest is difficult besides the entirety of the ocean & sea creatures & whatnot.. then again, thats a big category of interests. im unsure. loud noises freak me out & i tend to do repetitive motions. i dislike odd textures of food or hard mixed in with soft or chewy in smooth & other enigmas. i have no clue how my friends can eat the school parfaits without puking from the sensory nightmare. i have comfort items like the sea slug i carry with me. i am acutely paranoid of many things. i accidentally say things which come off as rude which are just observations. i also can be very blunt & come off as rude when i don’t mean to. i hold an overwhelming amount of empathy; its odd, so many proctors say people with autism have very little empathy, but its not always like that.. some have too much. its a spectrum..

anyway.. im tired. moral OCD is an odd thing. i feel like an idiot for not realizing ive had so many of these signs from early childhood, especially considering my mother..

apparently its meant to rain tomorrow. that will be fun :-)

[girlbloggercrowley]

thoughts on coffee theory and s2 quality/s2 in general. spoilers. not edited, low quality. if your name is neil gaiman look away

   i think i latched onto coffee theory early when it was proposed, cause i heard the miracle thing and thought it was odd. and then i realized that “the coffee made him do it” is even more cheap angst than i’d thought the end of ep6 was in the first place. cause i did think it was cheap. it was either cheap or it would need to be unpacked EXCELLENTLY. and to be frank with the goofiness of s2 i’m not sure i have faith that it’ll be treated with the thoroughness it deserves. 

   but also, like, something’s up with the coffee, right? i see some “there’s nothing in the coffee you guys are idiots” and it’s like hey. be nice:( there’s too much emphasis on it for it not to be weird in some way. i think a kind of “the coffee didn’t help but az said all that on his own” kind of thing, more of like a temptation like a one ring kinda deal do you get me

   there’s also the “bad on purpose” theories about s2 which sound kind of delusional to me because i hear the chopper blades of sherlock s4 in the background. apple tree yard… and also i’m kind of sick of “bad on purpose”. like yes you got the audience soooo much by making something that was kinda weird. you really tricked them! i’d feel better about it if there was EXPLICIT confirmation in the season that “yes, this was weird, it was on purpose” but there really just wasn’t much of that. and i think making it as whiplash-y and silly as it was sets a hell of a lot of expectations for s3. and if those aren’t fulfilled then i think people are going to burn gaiman at the stake or at least be cringe in his tumblr asks

like the just. tonal dissonance of the last 10 mins as compared to the wacky hijinks of EVERYTHING else was so WEIRD man and i’m having a hard time believing in, let’s call it the Great Plan (hah), that it’s all important. it felt like a fever dream it felt like an inbetween there was no real danger or anything i get it’s a transition season but like

(also side note. i liked the job minisode. did they Have to dress crowley like that. he looks like he permanently has middle school picture braces on.)

   anyways the most important/best explanation in My eyes is that aziraphale doesn’t know why gabriel lost everything. he doesn’t know that gabe wouldn’t go round two on the end of the world. HE thinks it’s for loving a demon.

(and i also think he thinks that if He were to lose his memories like that, there would be no one to bring him back. not if crowley was also punished. maybe muriel but i simply don’t think they’re strong enough.) so he’s scared of losing even the memories of the time he had. 

   that’s why he tries to pull crowley back to heaven with him. not to fix crowley, but to fix heaven

never mind. too tired for this i lost the plot

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

[rosenrot234]

I have something of a helluva boss theory related to blitzo and I’ve been pondering it for awhile.

The way he worded something to Striker stuck with me. “Well if you’re good at something you might as well capitalize on it”. This implies he killed before making IMP. Well how would he go around doing that? What would make him want to kill? Sure imps kill each other in comical fashions in the show. But what if its something a bit more personal?

With all the treasure he looted from the Goetias you’d think they’d be set for life. And that didn’t happen. And his mom is pretty much confirmed dead given his reaction to her photo. Not entirely shocking that his Dad probably wasted the money. Similar to how Blitzo has really bad spending habits. He had to have learned that from somewhere.

What if Blitz finds out none of the loot went to helping his Mom and that lead to her dying? I’d think that’s a pretty good reason to murder your father. This could have happened when he was more a teenager. He’s big by imp standards so I’d imagine he could kill his old man. He could have a “holy shit that was THAT easy?” eureka moment.

Knowing his sister is in rehab is also probably related to this possibility. A dead parent is a big shock and grief can cause a downward spiral into drugs and other terrible comforts. And if Barbie Wire is still a twin, I think Blitzo would really react badly to that. But that part of my pondering is a bit too early since we don’t know how those two are as siblings. Altho given Verosika mentioned her to poke at Blitz, they could still care about each other.

Blitz’s dad likely saw his wife being sick and used that so he could boss around his kids to get money for himself. Maybe even keeping her sick just to keep the scheme going.

My other guess related to the looting is that Paimon saw everything stolen. Went to the Circus and pretty much destroyed everything or had someone do it for him. This could also be why Blitzo has those scars on his face. MAYBE his Dad blamed his son to try and get away from punishment. I just kept pondering about the spots on Blitzo’s face and other possibilities for why Fizzaroli ended up with mechanical limbs.

[eirikaanemo]

Can You Keep A Secret?

Warnings: imprisonment, mentions of starvation and sickness

Note: I haven't actually played Dvalin's quest but I tried to keep it as close to canon as possible. Feel free to leave a comment or message me if you see something wrong.

Venti x GN!Reader

1.9k Words

Your soulmate is secretly Barbatos... now what?

Everyone has a soulmate. And everyone is born knowing your soulmate's biggest secret. For most people it’s really unhelpful, but for some people it helps them find their soulmate. You’re in the latter group, because yours gives you a name.

You've known your whole life that your soulmate is secretly Barbatos. It's… interesting, to say the least. Of course you'd never dare to tell anyone. Thankfully, asking someone what their soulmate’s secret is isn’t very common. It’s considered to be very rude, so no one asks you what your secret is. They'd think you're crazy!

Barbatos hasn't been around for centuries and you're a mortal. This is the sort of thing you would read about in trashy romance novels! But even though it’s crazy and kind of overwhelming, you know it's true. You don't know if he'd ever accept you or want to be with you, in fact, you’re pretty sure he won’t, but you want to try.

Once that’s settled, you just have to find him. If he's anywhere, it's probably the city of Mondstadt. That’s where he seems to have shown up the most in the past, after all. So you move to Mondstadt. It’s a nice place and the people are friendly. Finding a job with the Knights of Favonius was fairly easy and it paid pretty well.

Unfortunately, the 'Storm-terror' problem starts shortly after you move. He throws the whole city into chaos the first time, and then proceeds to keep doing it regularly. The fear is all encompassing, but that's fine, you try to convince yourself. It will all be worth it when you find him. ‘If you find him’, your traitorous mind whispers.

It's been months, a year even, and you're starting to lose hope. How were you expecting to find Barbatos anyway? Shout from the rooftops for him to reveal himself and whisk you away? He hasn't been around for a long time and you knew that. And to be honest, at this point you've given up.

Going home is the logical thing to do, it’s where your family is after all. But you stay because you made yourself a home here. You have friends: Jean, Lisa, and Kaeya. You have come to love the city: music, freedom, and camaraderie. Well, you love the city except for the 'Storm-terror' attacks. Those aren't very lovable.

What concerns you the most though is that 'Storm-terror' is a dragon. And dragons trend to be important (like, archon important). But no one seems to remember this one. So you research. You visit the cathedral and speak with some nuns. You dedicate some time to listening to bard’s tales, asking them if they know any songs about dragons. One does, and it's surprisingly informational. You spend time at the library, pouring through book after book. And after all this investigation, you've come to the conclusion that 'Storm-terror' is actually Dvalin of the Four Winds. Not that anyone actually believes you

It didn't stop you from telling people your theory though, and being more respectful in how you refer to him, despite all the damage he's caused. Eventually they do start considering it and the city starts catching on. If you keep doing this, you may be able to change the city's perspective of and reaction to Dvalin.

The abyss mage catches on to this, and he just can't let that happen. It could compromise the whole plan. So one day he has Dvalin abduct you and locks you up. And true to your luck, this happens out of the blue while you’re taking a walk that you’d finally convinced Jean to go on with you. Which, of course, reverses all your progress and makes the situation even worse than it was before. Incidentally, this also does the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to do by stressing out poor Jean more.

The abyss mage doesn’t care about anything other than making sure you’re not able to go back to Mondstadt. The mage does not care about human necessities. Who cares if you die? Not him. He hates humans. It's kind of part of his job description.

Your prison is where Dvalin retreats to when not attacking. And the mage has to go report to someone else sometimes, giving you opportunities to speak with Dvalin. He never responds to you, but you can tell he eventually starts listening. You start by rambling about various subjects; then talking about how you know he's Dvalin, and that you're sorry he was being treated like he was, once you know he is listening. Because while you don’t know the whole situation, you know that he feels hurt by how humans have treated him.

After several days of talking to him, he slowly starts warming up to you. It’s a strange sort of bond that grows stronger as time goes on. He starts responding and the two of you actually have conversations instead of just you talking. Eventually you even mention how you know your soulmate is actually Barbatos and that you've kind of given up finding him.

He gives a thoughtful hum, lets you vent out your feelings, tries to think of an appropriate response, then allows you to drop the subject once you’ve worn yourself out emotionally. It’s becoming obvious that your health, physical, mental, and emotional, is degrading faster as time goes on.

One day Dvalin and the mage both disappear for longer than usual. After the mage makes sure you won’t be able to escape, of course. It’s not like you would’ve been able to leave anyway. At that point you’re not able to do much at all.

Little did you know that only Dvalin would be returning. They ended up facing the traveler and their companions in battle, and Dvalin was freed from the mage’s influence. The first thing Dvalin does is take them to help "the one decent human, that he actually cares about". You're in bad shape at this point, starving, sick, and weak. But you’re aware enough to hear Jean call your name and feel someone gather you in their arms before blacking out.

When you wake up you're at the cathedral and are feeling much better. Certainly you are not fully recovered, that will take weeks. That one bard who was able to play you a song about Dvalin is always there. You vaguely remember him being there when you were found. He doesn’t really interact with you much, he’s just kind of there, but he does play peaceful music that helps you fall asleep when you’re struggling to rest.

Then the day comes for you to go home. They’ve done all they can for you and you’re past the worst of it. But you’re well enough to be out and about. “Now you take care of yourself,” Barbara lectures you. “Don’t push yourself, get plenty of rest, drink lots of water, and eat three square meals a day, got it?”

“Got it,” you confirm. “Thank you for taking care of me, I really appreciate your help.” She smiles, wishes you well, and returns to the cathedral. You take a moment to breathe and just appreciate being back home, free of your prison and the small cathedral room they’d kept you in while treating you.

Taking a deep breathe you start on your way home. “Hey!” You hear someone exclaim behind you. “Could you hold on a second?” Turning around, you see the bard quickly excusing himself from a street performance before running to catch up to you. Once he’s caught up, he gives you a smile.

“Hi! I’m Venti the bard! Would you be willing to speak with me about something? It’s kind of private so we would need to go to windrise or something, but you’ll want to hear this, I promise.” He says. “Alright,” you agree, “but I can’t make it all the way to windrise. Would my home do? I live alone so we’ll have privacy.” He nods, “that’ll work great!”

The walk home is quiet but comfortable. The bard’s content to hum a tune as he follows you through the streets. Soon you’re home, unlocking the door to let you and your guest in. You lead him over to the couch where you both sit down. “So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, I was talking with Dvalin a day or so after we freed both of you and he said you mentioned you came to Mondstadt searching for your soulmate. And that you said your soulmate’s biggest secret, the one that you know, is that they’re Barbatos,” he explains. You feel a pang of betrayal at Dvalin’s actions and some guilt for sharing your soulmate’s secret in the first place.

It probably showed on your face because he quickly spoke up again. “He didn’t just tell me for no reason though. You see, I am Barbatos. I’m your soulmate.” Your head, which had been drooping with the weight of your emotions suddenly shot up as you fumbled for a response.

Apparently that showed too because he continued, “And I’m sorry I made it so hard for you to find me. I’m sorry I almost made you give up on me. Most of my waking time is spent incognito so I can watch over everyone while not being put in a position of authority. I didn’t anticipate meeting you ”

There’s a moment or two of silence as you gather your thoughts. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I understand why you did what you did and I’ll never hold it against you. How were you supposed to know I was even born yet, not to mention that I’ve been in the area searching for you.”

You take another moment or two to gather your wits. “I will also understand if you don’t want to do anything about this,” you state. “I don’t want you to feel forced into having a relationship with me if you don’t want to. The last thing I’d want to do is be responsible for making you miserable. And that’s not to mention how you’re an archon and I’m just a mortal.”

Your talking speeds up as you start rambling, losing control of the conversation as you feel more and more nervous. Once you realize you’re rambling you shut your mouth with a click. “Sorry about that,” you mutter. “I do that sometimes when I’m nervous.”

When you chance a glance at him, he honestly looks a little offended but mostly just really sad. “Is- is that really what you think I think about this?” He asks softly. “Because it’s not. I absolutely want this. I absolutely want you. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for millenia and I wouldn’t give this up for the world.”

He reaches over and slowly, hesitantly, so as to give you time to escape if you want, gathers you into his arms. You realize that he’s the one who picked you up to bring you home. Your ear rests against his chest as lean against him, and his heart skips a beat as you gently grab one of his hands and kiss it. “I’m glad,” you breathe. “I’m glad too,” he voices softly.

You yawn, feeling the exhaustion from your journey home and the rest of the day hit you. He pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “Sleep well, my cecilia, I’ll be here when the sun comes up and when you wake up.” You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (31)

Author’s Note: Surprise readers! I wanted to celebrate the start of Spring Break (a very much needed break) by posting an update sooner than I expected. Also, it’s double the length, too. It’s practically two chapters in one!

Thank you always to my loyal readers. If I do not get back to you, please know that I see every review, every comment, and every mention. I am grateful for all of you!

Also, I have had a few readers tell me of songs they associate with A.S. and I just think that is so cool, because I too, connect music to books and fanfics that I read. I’d like to make a list of all my readers’ songs that they think fit A.S. and share them on my next update as the “soundtrack” for this story. Please let me know yours in the comments or through message.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30

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Chapter 31: Not Enough

Sakura spun the sword, adjusting it on her left forearm as she pivoted on her heel to bring it around her in another protective arc. The blackness that hovered before her again instantly shielded her enemies from view which could be considered both advantageous and disadvantageous for her.

For the first, Mako and Hisa immediately rushed forward, using the ninjutsu as a cloak. They crisscrossed her, one taking a swipe at her from the front right and the other coming from the left. When Hisa’s blade came from the right, Sakura’s first instinct was to dodge and strike her foe in the side with her fists as she passed. But with her chakra currently restricted, Sakura ducked, pushed up on the handle of her assault weapon with her forearm, and brought her own blade naturally to Hisa’s right flank as she redirected the attack. Sakura hissed in disappointment because the cut was interrupted when she retreated and the result was shallow, not slicing deep enough to incapacitate her. When Hisa took a step back, clutching her flank, Mako suddenly appeared like a breaching shark from the deep only inches before Sakura’s face. He kicked her, quite hard, and Sakura fell into the sand, her weapon tossed aside from the blow. She scrambled for it as Mako grabbed hold of her ankle. She kicked free of his hold, but he was upon he, knees straddling her, and Sakura had no choice but to turn and face him.

He cuffed her hands above her head, saying quietly, “Don’t make this difficult! You will lose your life if you continue to resist. They’ll kill you. Stop struggling!”

Sakura cursed herself for drinking that damn tea, because if she had chakra, she would headbutt his face so far back into his skull that the impact would instantly kill him. Hisa’s face suddenly appeared above Mako’s rights shoulder.

“Killing her is the only option. We don’t have time to hold her hostage,” she chastised Mako with venom in her voice. “We have to get back to base quickly with the news of her death.”

“We could use her. She’s too important to kill immediately.” Came Mako’s response as he sat down hard against her bucking legs.  

“We don’t have time for this! The drug effects won’t last on her all the way back to Tanigakure!”

Perfect, Sakura thought. The confirmation she had been looking for. They were in fact the same party of ninja who had attacked her and Sasuke on their journey to Suna. Sakura still wasn’t entirely sure just how many belonged to their group.

“Reach in my pocket for the second dose. We will knock her back out if we have to!” came Mako’s reply, but it was too late. Sakura had been calling, calling, calling her chakra to her wrists this entire time and used that small amount of sudden strength to overpower Mako’s hold, swinging her arms quickly back down to her sides which caused Mako’s own arms to follow. His head hit the ground to the left of her neck and Sakura immediately rolled him, bestriding him the same way he had just held her.

Hisa didn’t hesitate a second as her weapon came swiping horizontally across Sakura’s back. Sakura predicted this and used Mako’s struggling momentum to once again roll him back on top of her. The blade bit into the flesh of his back and he screamed. In the same moment, Sakura used the last of her strength to wedge her knees between herself and Mako’s chest, shoving him out and back toward a surprised Hisa. They both fell tangled back into the shadowy mist, hitting sand somewhere out of sight.

Within seconds, Sakura scrambled toward the lost weapon and the sword she had dropped was within Sakura’s reach. But when she fisted the pommel, a foot stepped down on the blade. The black mist cleared to reveal the eyeless depths of the shadow demon above her.

“Enough of this,” he hissed. Shadows leaked from his eyes, down his face, and crawled down his chest, legs, and over the length of the weapon, icing Sakura’s fingers when they touched the handle. Sakura immediately recoiled in pain as her fingers turned a sickening black. She screamed, backing away from his advancing figure, hand tucked protectively in the crook between her arm and side.

Rage more than fear boiled beneath Sakura’s skin. What sick ninjutsu was this? It reminded her of a combination between Zabuza’s Hidden Mist technique and Shikamaru’s Shadow Control. But the damage was entirely unexpectedt, as if the shadows inside his body were made of a poisonous substance that bleached out the life of whatever it touched. This phantom before her controlled darkness directly, thickening what already existed in the air around them, and then leaking black chakra directly from his body which destroyed whatever came in contact with it. Like the shadows of death itself, Sakura was certain it had stollen all life from her immovable hand.

Sakura cursed and bolted to the left, seeking out the jagged rocks that she had created earlier. She had to test a theory. Sakura slowed as she clutched her hand, listening, keeping an eye on her feet at all times in fear of creeping black, knowing the phantom would pursue.

When his steps came closer, Sakura turned and faced him. A chakra-manipulated path cleared the darkness between them, allowing the two ninja to see each other in the surrounding haze. This confirmed one thing for Sakura: no one, including the ninja user himself, could see through the darkness he created. That was good to know.

Just one more thing then. She waited and the shade sneered as he approached. When he came withing a few feet away, shadows reached for her like grasping fingers. Just as she had seen Temari do all those years ago during the Chunin exams, Sakura backed away until the shadows stopped and retreated back into the skull of the demon who had projected them. She drew a line in the sand, confirming the distance of ten feet between them.

Ha. She thought to herself. Just like Shikamaru’s justsu then. Similarly, it had a limited reach, although it was much shorter than Shikamaru’s range and didn’t seem to be able to use the shadows in the air around it to lengthen or widen. It explained the purpose of the shadows in the air though; the phantom ninja needed to be in close range where individuals couldn’t see the approaching black tentacles of death.

Sakura scoffed. Apparently, this ninja couldn’t measure up to Shikamaru’s intelligence either, considering the fact that she had just figured out how his ninjutsu worked.

There was only one problem, though. Sakura was a close-combat shinobi as well, and her number one battle technique was her chakra enhanced strength. She needed a plan that would allow her to take a different approach.

She ran and her attacker pursued her, thickening the air before her but leaving the trail behind her completely clear.

Suddenly, Mako’s words from earlier came back to her, which gave Sakura an idea. It was the only thing Sakura could think of. She doubled back to where Mako and Hisa had been disposed. She followed the blood in the sand to the precipice of a jagged chunk of earth. When she came upon Mako, Sakura noted that Hisa was already gone, having abandoned him immediately. Hisa was probably blindly searching for Sakura among the shadow-cloaked mountains of ground and sand.

Sakura didn’t have much time. She placed her hand over Mako’s mouth so he wouldn’t scream and give away their location; not that it would do much good. If the phantom had room for a brain somewhere next to that pit of darkness in his skull, he would follow the blood as she had, or trace her tracks in the sand.

Mako, laying on his bloody back in the sand, shot his eyes open when Sakura’s hand pressed down hard on his mouth with her black hand. It was barely more than a useless appendage at this point, but with the help of her good hand, Sakura shoved her fingers in his mouth to silence him. He tried biting them, tearing into her blackened flesh. But Sakura couldn’t feel them at all, the deadening so complete that Sakura was afraid she would never regain use of it again.

With her free hand, Sakura searched Mako’s person. Her hand fisted triumphantly in his back pocket around something long and cylindrical. She pulled it free, praying frantically that it was what she theorized it to be. Bless you for being thorough and for telling me you had it, she thought to Mako as she surveyed the capped yellow injection tube. Whether it was Ashuwa or a second dose of whatever he had put in her tea, Sakura didn’t know. But whatever it was, Mako had revealed its purpose to Hisa which was to incapacitate her again once the current drug in her system stopped working.

Mako squirmed beneath her and Sakura contemplated killing him right then and there. But she just didn’t have time. Lucky bastard. She sprinted from him, the phantom stepping over the boulder in the same moment she darted from the concealed spot.

Did he see what she grabbed? Sakura wasn’t confident but couldn’t stop to try to interpret the eye-less facial expression the ninja wore. Remaining hopeful, she kept running.

Spotting a smaller set of tracks in the sand leaving the location, Sakura followed them, tracing them all the way to their source. When Sakura came upon Hisa, she almost collided with her directly, the blackened air only revealing her in the last second. Hisa didn’t even have a chance to react before Sakura uncapped the needle and dispensed a third of the dose into her neck, enough for her weight. The woman dropped to the ground and Sakura thanked Mako again for designing the perfect drug. Sakura didn’t estimate that she would remain unconscious for long, though, not having the full dose.

Sakura moved quickly. There was only a matter of minutes before the phantom caught up to her once again. Sakura quickly removed the cloak from Hisa’s shoulders and wrapped Hisa’s face covering around her own. She picked up Hisa’s small rapier from the ground.

She turned and walked toward the approaching footsteps, using the black at her back to her advantage this time, thankful for once that it would conceal Hisa’s body completely.

When she came into his view, the ninja balked, taken aback at her familiar presence. “Hisa?” came the hissing whisper. Sakura kept her head down long enough. Long enough to come parallel with him and turn the blade to relieve him of his head.  

He ducked as Sakura knew he would. Dropping the shortsword, she came back toward his face with the hidden syringe in the same hand. Like with Hisa, she caught him in the neck with the needle neck, and his black sockets widened as she fully pressed in the plunger.

Deathly black shot out of his eye sockets, gripping her remaining hand with blackness as it traveled up her arm. She cried out in both pain and fury as the medicine injected into the demon’s skin. He screamed and she pulled away as he dropped to his knees.

His consciousness remained momentarily, and Sakura turned, arms limp and useless from damage like Orochimaru’s had been. Turning, Sakura found the sword she had dropped. Bending down, she gripped it between her teeth, the taste of metal and sand coating her tongue. It tasted so, so sweet in that second.

Like another mist demon she remembered, Zabuza Momochi, Sakura wielded the blade between her teeth and pivoted to face this monster who was solely responsible for torturing Isao, spreading hatred and pain, and most of all, underestimating her.

Sakura would never be weak enough that anyone without substance, anyone who couldn’t consider themselves subpar to a legendary Sanin, could dispose of her easily. She didn’t need abilities. She didn’t even need chakra to make it out triumphant in these futile attempts on her life.

“You will regret your choices,” the phantom hissed disorientated. “The next generation won’t be able to handle what is coming.”

Sakura began to advance toward him, ready to mimic Zabuza’s killing blows with a fang-wielded blade. When she reached him, she glared down at him, bloodlust in her veins.

“War is a good thing. Anger is a tool to be used. Vengeance is necessary to strengthen.”

Sakura gripped onto her own blood-bent mind, talking to herself as she looked at this man…beast…whatever he was. And as she had done with Satou, Sakura now too, thought of Sasuke. A person so wrapped in darkness that the darkness presented itself in his very nature.

“You, like everyone else, deserve mercy,” Sakura announced after she dropped the sword from her mouth. Sakura had once blamed herself for being too weak to kill Sasuke, but in this moment, Sakura had an enlightening clarification. When someone so vile deserves death and you can find it in yourself to drop your too-ready hand of justice and offer them a second chance—that is real strength. It’s what Naruto would have done. It’s what Sakura chose to do now.

The man slumped forward, eyes level with the blade that stuck up from the sand. “You will see one day that I am right,” he hissed in finality.

“You have us confused with one another,” she announced to the fading darkness that began to disintegrate into light, the final sign signaling his unconsciousness. Sakura could just make out the sunrise in the east and it was beautiful, pale, and rosy. Sakura pretended it was her victory banner. She also believed it was a sign of hope.  

………………………………….

The second chakra pill worked another miracle. Sasuke felt replenished as he practically flew across the sand path in Isao’s memory. He had only run this fast a few times in his life and most recently, it was because of this same scenario. Kido, too, had kidnapped Sakura, and when Sasuke had found out, he had run.

Sasuke cursed himself now for his stupidity. His pride. His mission. He had left in anger and confusion after their kiss, left her alone in Suna despite his promise to never let this sort of thing happen again. Each step he took into the sand was echoed in his mind with an apology. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He lost count of how many times he said it.

Chakra coursed through his limbs and Sasuke mentally prepared himself for war. Bones enveloped his body, ribs caging around him as he activated an incomplete Susanoo. Purple chakra radiated from him, a threatening beacon to the kidnappers he knew would be nearby.

Sasuke instantly recognized the projections of broken ground that penetrated up from the sand like a golden crown. Unlike in Isao’s shadowy memories, the morning light illuminated each pillar, revealing the sheer length and size of every new peak that Sakura had brought forth with her inhuman strength.  Sasuke didn’t even think of concealing his presence; he didn’t need to. He charged into the center of the fray, looking about him everywhere.

He looked behind a few of the crags, eyes finally landing on an individual. Bloody, but not unconscious, Mako lay with his face projected to the sky. His eyes shot open when Sasuke placed a heavy foot on his chest. He wanted to light him up with his Amaterasu and let the flames devour him alive until the ninja was nothing more than the sand beneath him.

Mako groaned and Sasuke unsheathed his katana, stabbing into this ninja’s shoulder. Although he didn’t need to pin him to the ground, it felt good to watch Mako clutch at the blade near his collar bone. The medic ninja was still alive despite his blood loss, but Sasuke relished in the thought that he wouldn’t be for long. Gaara might be mad at him for this later, but Sasuke didn’t care.

“Where is she?” The Uchiha hissed as he sent electricity down the length of his blade into Mako’s chest muscles. He began to spasm.

“Stop!” Mako screamed in pain.

“It will stop when you answer!” he yelled back, losing control of his own emotions. He twisted the metal for emphasis.

“Sasuke, stop!” came a familiar voice and Sasuke’s dropped the blade in shock as Sakura threw her shoulder into him.

“I don’t have enough chakra to spare to heal any more wounds,” she reprimanded him as if she were talking to a patient.

Sasuke blinked in chastisement at the pink-haired woman standing whole before him. He instantly pulled her into his Susanoo, crushing her to his side as he extended the ribcage of the Susanoo to include her. He looked around warily as if he couldn’t quite believe there was no current threat to Sakura’s person. He finally spoke, both relief and annoyance edging his words. “You’re okay?! Where are the others?!”

“I’m fine!” she announced, face suddenly red in embarrassment at their close proximity. Sasuke didn’t notice it at first as he held her back at arm’s length to check her current state. His stomach dropped when he saw her dangling arms, blackened, charred, and bruised. One of them currently had a small halo of green around it and its color paled in comparison to the other.

“Who did this to you?” he rumbled lowly, flashing a red and purple glare back down at Mako, who whimpered pathetically from his wounds. Sakura pulled from his hand and moved in front of the Uchiha, cutting off his direction of blame.

“Not him,” she excused, and her defense thoroughly pissed Sasuke off. Whatever Mako’s role was in this, Sasuke was certain that he was to blame for all of it.

Sasuke did his best to swallow his murdering thirst, eyes landing back on her like a lifeline to his sanity. “Tell me what happened,” he ordered. It was the only words that he could force past his teeth.

“I will explain everything to you, but I need your help first.” She made to step away from him, but Sasuke prevented it. Careful not to aggravate her injuries by touching her arm, Sasuke grabbed her shirt on reflex instead, pulling her back into the safety of the Susanoo.

“It’s okay. We are safe.” she breathed, smiling at him for the first time since he had left her, which brought Sasuke back some soothing clarity of mind. “They are all incapacitated.”

Sasuke’s eyebrow shot up into his bangs. “All of them?”

“It’s insulting that you are surprised,” she nudged him with her shoulder, turning her shoulders to face Mako. She bent to medically assess his new stab wound.

“I wasn’t expecting,” he admitted, but then fell into silence at her targeted look. “I mean, I thought that you were drugged!”

“I am,” she announced, narrowing her eyes further. “But I don’t know how you know that.”

Sasuke cursed at his slip. He couldn’t tell her just yet about how he practically forced Isao to spill all the information earlier. Instead, he said half-truthfully, “I ran into the kid.”

“Isao?” Sakura’s face lit up. “He’s okay? He made it back?” She slumped into the sand at Mako’s side. She practically deflated as her concern for the boy evaporated. “Bless that child.”

Sasuke had to agree. If it weren’t for him, Sasuke wouldn’t have been able to find his teammate this quickly. Even though Sakura hadn’t really needed his help after all. How strange that felt for Sasuke, to not be needed in the ways that he had once been. It was an unexpected jolt to his mindset toward Sakura. She had proved her strength repeatedly to him and he continued to see her as someone to protect.

Before he could even offer an apology, Sakura motioned toward Mako’s body. “My arms are a little preoccupied at the moment. Do you mind flipping him?”

Sasuke’s thoughts instantly darkened at the mention of both her arms and Mako. “What for?”

“I need to look at his back. See how deep the wound is.”

“He doesn’t deserve your help,” he replied instantly, wishing for the ninja to suffer in the same ways he had made his friend.

“I remember a time when you didn’t either,” Sakura replied with a smiling voice, “but I helped you back then, too. Now flip him.”

Sasuke scoffed at her statement, stooped, and flipped the ninja on his stomach. Mako let out a pained groan and Sakura “tsked” at his blatant carelessness. He kneeled beside her, ready to be her hands despite how much he hated the thought of her trying to help him.

“It’s not as deep as I thought. Hold his flesh together,” she ordered and Sasuke did so as she summoned a small stream of chakra to the gray fingertips of her semi-healed hand. The small amount did not last long, but it was enough. Just enough to stop the bleeding.

“Why are you helping me?” Mako asked faintly into the sand, and Sasuke immediately responded for her.

“You don’t need to know, so just shut your mouth so I don’t have to hear your voice.”

Sakura nudged him for his harsh words. “You sure have a lot to say today.” And Sasuke blinked at her again in surprise. She was right; he was talking a lot…for him. He responded with another scoff.

Sakura answered Mako’s question despite Sasuke’s threat. “You believe in war. I believe in peace. We are stronger united than when we are divided. This is how I create peace.”

Sasuke wasn’t following entirely, but he knew that Sakura was referencing words that had been exchanged between them, and Sasuke recognized them as the poison from a mindset consumed in darkness.

Standing again, Sakura said, “The hard part is going to be getting them all back to Sunagakure.”

“What do you mean?” Sasuke asked.

“They’re drugged. Not all of them are dead. They’ll wake soon,” she clarified for him.

Sasuke didn’t even think before saying, “I can remedy that.”

She ignored him, continuing, “We might have to make a couple trips. How many can you carry?”

Sasuke didn’t even respond to that ridiculous notion. Instead, he activated his Rinnegan once more, feeding it with the chakra from the chakra pill. A spiral appeared before them, revealing the central red-dune dimension. Sakura didn’t even have time to protest before Sasuke was throwing Mako’s limp body inside the hole.

“What are you doing?” Sakura asked, confused and stunned by his actions.

“They can remain in this dimension until we make it back to Suna. They can’t flee inside. They have nowhere to go.”

Sakura nodded in understanding. “Good idea!” she praised him, obviously relieved she wasn’t going to have to try to carry anyone with her arms practically useless.

“I’ll take you to the others.”

A female kunoichi Sakura called Hisa was the second to be transported to Kaguya’s center dimension. Then a different sort of being Sasuke considered warily. He didn’t look to be human. Sakura explained that he had been the most dangerous of them all. Sakura believed him to be the ringleader, though she wasn’t sure how many group members he truly led. It was still a confusing web of connections.

Sakura left out the fact that this ninja must be the one to have damaged her arms, but no good would come from Sasuke demanding that she confirm that for him. The Uchiha made a mental note of it as he tossed the unconscious ninja inside, already contemplating on ways to make him talk.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“One more,” she replied, and she led Sasuke toward a small adobe house that he hadn’t noticed before. It was alone in the desert, one wall completely destroyed, revealing the building’s stark clay interior.

Just before they reached the ruins, Sakura stopped when they approached the body of a large man. Sasuke was surprised to find this man not just unconscious; he was dead.

“He hurt Isao,” she defended automatically, ashamed that death had been necessary.

But Sasuke didn’t need an explanation from her. If she wouldn’t have, Saskue was pretty sure that he would have killed him. “Let the sand have him,” he declared, but Sakura shook her head.

“He belongs with them. They must be able to bury and grieve to find peace. We don’t want to give them cause for any further resentment.”

Sasuke wanted to say “you can’t be serious,” but he didn’t feel like arguing, because no matter what Sasuke could come up with to say next, Sakura would still be right in the end. She had a bigger vision in mind that Sasuke couldn’t quite connect sometimes. He just knew that he would always trust her to do the right thing, even if it wasn’t sensible, or in most cases, not what Sasuke would have done.

“Fine,” he declared, opening the portal once more. His breathing became labored as he pushed the effects of the chakra pill. Like with the others, Sasuke dragged the man’s body into the portal.

Sasuke also stepped through, leaving the gateway open between realms. He directed his attention to Mako, ice already coating his next words.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t wander too far from this spot. The dimension is endless and not of our world. You will only lose yourself and die in this place.”

Mako swallowed deeply in fear as he watched Sasuke’s form from his stomach.

“On second thought,” Sasuke sneered under his breath. “Feel free.” The portal closed behind the Uchiha as he exited. He would deal with all of them later, he thought. He needed to get Sakura back to Sunagakure first.  

………………………………

Sakura couldn’t help but whimper when her left arm wasn’t responding as quickly to her healing chakra. Her right hand—the very same one she had shoved into Mako’s mouth to keep him from screaming—had almost fully recovered as the medicine suppressing her chakra began to wear off and her healing abilities returned to her. Her left hand, however, was at first very numb, which Sakura knew was a very bad sign. But the longer she worked at healing, the more the pain began to intensify. It was almost unbearable, but Sakura was ultimately relieved at the burning sensation that indicated life. Sakura considered the differences between the two hands and all she could conclude was that distance must have had something to do with it since her right hand had a grabbed the blackened sword at his feet and her left had been near his face when she plunged the needle in his neck.

Sasuke supported her as they walked back to the Sand Village, though he suddenly seemed to her like he was the one that needed supporting. He stumbled in the sand and Sakura removed her good arm from his shoulders.

“I’m good. But are you okay?” she asked, noticing his strenuous breathing for the first time.

“Yes,” he fibbed, and Sakura knew it was a lie the minute he clutched his head to support it.

Redirecting her chakra back to her healed hand, Sakura immediately sought out Sasuke’s brow with her fingertips. He moaned with relief as green chakra lighted over it, but he instantly pushed her hand away. “Heal yourself.”

“What happened?” she responded, ignoring his demand. She found his forehead again. “There’s nothing I can do if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I took two chakra pills. I’ll be fine though. I just need rest.” He removed her hand again.

Sakura inhaled sharply at the confession. “Why did you do that?”

“I had already depleted my chakra reserves when I found out you weren’t in the village. I panicked.”

“Overdosing on chakra pills is one thing,” she scolded, “but using them recklessly to overexert your Rinnegan is another. No matter how much chakra you have, you have limits with the Rinnegan.”

“It was my only choice,” he defended sharply, obviously masking his embarrassment with annoyance.

Sakura placed her glowing palm over his eyes, now certain of the source of his discomfort. Sasuke made to move her hand away once more, but she fussed like a mother when he tried. “Let me have my way, or we’ll be here longer.”

Sasuke released a small laugh that sounded like another scoff. Only Team 7 could tell the difference between Sasuke’s derisiveness and his sense of humor.  Sakura couldn’t believe he had the energy to laugh. But then something changed in the air around them and Sasuke grew very serious as he inhaled—the type of inhale someone made before having something important to say.

Sasuke finally managed to grab her fingers and he tugged them away after Sakura was satisfied with his treatment. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he held them for a moment that suggested tenderness. It was different from how their hands had brushed so many times before, like how they rested them against each other as they watched Suna’s desert sunset. This time, it was more like how Sasuke had held her hand between them in the medicine preparation room.

Finally working up the courage, Sasuke looked down at her feet and said, “I’m sorry.”

Sakura stared at the firm hold his fingers had on hers in wonder. And the truly amazing part was that he stillwasn’t letting go. “For what?” she whispered, not knowing what else to say for fear of him moving away.

“For leaving you behind in Suna. For leaving in anger. For not being there and letting this happen.”

Sakura didn’t let him continue. “Sasuke,” she began, catching his guilty eyes with her own. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I hope I have proved that to you, today. Please don’t burden yourself with worry for me. I can carry my own burdens and some. You already have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Sasuke searched her eyes with his. Sakura knew this was a rare occasion. Not many people would see the Uchiha open, unguarded, with care etched in every feature of his expression.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said suddenly, still holding her fingers tightly, and Sakura felt the whole world suddenly still around them. Even the desert wind seemed to stop. Was this the Sasuke she had always known was inside, no matter how roughly he displayed himself to the world?

“I’m sorry for what happened,” Sakura interrupted, afraid for another impending denial of her feelings. She knew what was coming and she didn’t want this small moment to end. “I won’t do that again.”

He paused and Sakura wondered if he was unsettled by the open acknowledgement of her stollen kiss.

He sighed and Sakura’s stomach dropped. She felt him hesitate, saw it in his face. But he resolved himself, declaring, “I came to a conclusion while I was away, and I have to say this while I have the nerve.”

Sakura nodded, ready for disappointment. She was more afraid of what he would say next than she had ever felt going toe-to-toe with her enemies just moments ago.

“Can it be enough for us to care for one another?” he asked, desperation cloaked with mock annoyance on his breath. “Can it just be enough for us to be friends as long as we are in each other’s lives sometimes? Can it be enough for us to be united in the same goal?”

Sakura’s heart sank and unhappiness hit her like the wave she was expecting. Tears threatened to brim her eyelids, but Sakura swallowed them down. Would he ever not be this thickheaded and stubborn? Would he ever let them be what they could be? Whether or not Sakura was simply high on victory or if she was genuinely losing her meekness in Sasuke’s presence, Sakura wasn’t sure.

She removed her hand from his. “Is it enough for you?” she finally asked, taking a step away from him. But he caught her fingers again, pulling her back gently to face him.

“Is that a no?” he asked emotionlessly, but Sakura saw the struggle in his eyes.

“When the answer becomes ‘yes’ for you, I will accept it as mine as well.” She pulled away, firmly this time. He couldn’t respond. Sakura knew why: he wanted to put this on her; he was always putting it back on her, afraid “because of her,” hesitant “because of her.” These were his excuses, but Sakura wouldn’t give him an out this time. It was his turn to choose.

They both knew that it was far too late for Sasuke to pretend he didn’t love her in the same way that Sakura loved him. But Sakura had learned that people love in many ways and not all people wanted to express that love romantically. Kissing Sasuke had been a mistake. She hated to call it that, but it was the truth of it. She didn’t want to steal from him what he wasn’t ready to give—what he wasn’t at peace with. It was his turn; he now knew where she stood.

………………………………..

When they finally made it back to the Hidden Sand Village, Kankuro was there to intercept them just as Sasuke had expected he would. The puppet-wielding ninja was beside himself with worry at seeing Sakura’s injuries, insisting that Sakura promptly return to the hospital. Sakura had insisted she tend to her own wounds back in their lodgings so she could rest. She immediately requested to see Isao, but Kankuro insisted she get some rest first.

It wasn’t until Sasuke insisted that he have an audience with him and Gaara, that he left Sakura to her own desires. As they parted, Sasuke tried to say something or grab her eyes with his, but she didn’t look at him. Not even once. And Sasuke ran his hand exhaustedly through his hair. He couldn’t think about them right now. A conference with the Kazekage would be the perfect distraction.

Gaara, miraculously, had returned before he and Sakura had, and Sasuke wondered just how fast news could travel. Sasuke privately joked with himself that the desert shared its secrets with the Kazekage. The wind and sand must speak to him if he found out things so quickly. It was a hypothesis that could explain a lot at least.

Sasuke shook his head as he followed Kankuro into the Kazekage’s office. He must be getting delirious from the effects of the chakra pills.

“Sasuke,” came Gaara’s raspy acknowledgement when the Uchiha stepped into the room. Gaara was surprisingly alone, which relieved Sasuke. He thought he would have to face Gaara with the “support” of his council. It would be easier to speak of recent events if only Gaara and Kankuro were present.

Sasuke nodded respectfully despite his feelings of resentment toward the two men at the moment for having let Sakura be kidnapped under their watch. As a ninja that was a part of this unpredictable shinobi world, Sasuke knew his anger was unjustified, but he wanted to be mad at anyone and everyone right now. 99% of his own anger was directed at himself, because Sasuke knew that he was more responsible for what happened than the Kazekage and his brother were. The Kazekage had been trying to be proactive and prevent something like this from happening. It just didn’t turn out that way.

The Kazekage seemed to share Sasuke concern for discreetness, because he cloaked the room in sand as he had done the first day of Sasuke arrival. It filled every crevice, thickening to soundproof the room.

Sasuke opened the portal into Kaguya’s central dimension without further delay. He walked into the vortex, not surprised the group remained exactly where he had left them. The only difference was that they were conscious, a fact that slightly irked the Uchiha.

One by one, he grabbed each ninja, tossing them forward into the Kazekage’s domain. Hisa clutched at her dead counterpart, holding onto the deceased brute. Sasuke found grim satisfaction in Mako’s subdued, yielding persona. Being present before the Kazekage was far more terrifying than being stuck in a desolate dimension.

But the individual that held both Sasuke and the Kazekage’s attention was the wraith-like individual that bled darkness from a small spot on his neck. It was his only injury.

Gaara carefully considered him, crossing his arms and surveying him emotionlessly as he did most enemies that he regarded.

Darkness suddenly began to ooze from the man’s eye sockets and Sasuke’s temper suddenly flared. He looked to Gaara, and the ninja nodded his permission.

“Only demons don’t seem to know when they’re in the presence of other demons. Shall I show you hell?”

Sasuke’s eye suddenly began to bleed as he formed the tiger seal for fire release. “Amaterasu!”

The black flames clung to the phantom, incinerating what Sasuke realized was dark masses of sinewing, vaporized flesh. The phantom hissed. Then screamed, then began to plead for mercy. Hisa began to cry and Mako turned his face away from their leader.

Gaara came up beside Sasuke to speak to the wraith as he writhed. Sasuke released the Amaterasu and the flames receded.

The Kazekage crouched, an arm on his knee. “From one demon to another, I urge you to leave your shadows behind in hell and step out into the light. Only demons desire war. And war breeds more demons.”

Sasuke clutched his eye in silent suffering, and Gaara dismissed him. “I’ll handle the rest. I’ll let you know what we find out.”

Sasuke nodded, not waiting for any further excuses to depart. He had delivered them into the Kazekage’s care. But what those ninja didn’t know was that Sakura’s mercy held Sasuke more confined than it did the Kazekage, a demon just as he had said, whose territory had been breached.

……………………

Sakura was finishing binding her tender left hand in medical bandaging, using up the last of her burn solvent that she had created at Suna’s hospital, when Sasuke walked in.

He opened the door, caught her eyes with his, and tried to hide the bloody track down his face from her with his hand. She was on her feet instantly, pulling him to the bed that he had staked his claim on.

She felt his forehead and it was hot, too hot. He had done it this time. She sighed, summoning the small reserve of chakra behind the diamond mark on her forehead.

She expected Sasuke to scold her for using what little she had left on him, but he didn’t seem to notice in his extreme exhaustion. “Thank you,” he whispered, and Sakura retreated to fetch water for him.

He gulped it greedily and Sakura helped him shrug out of his outer layer of clothing. Sand fell from his hair and clothes in the same way hers had earlier. “I’m better now,” he whispered, the first words spoken between them since their disagreement in the desert.

Sakura nodded, making to move away, but he grabbed her hand for the third time that day.

“Don’t be angry,” he begged, his exhaustion making him suddenly careless to conceal his true intentions with fake displeasure and irritation.

“Why do you think I am angry?” she asked emotionlessly.

“I just want what’s best for you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered in defeat. This side of Sasuke startled Sakura. He was becoming more undefended, open with emotions in a way she had never seen him before. Was it because he didn’t have anything to hide anymore? Was he past his denials and his pretending?

“I know,” she squeezed his hand back. “But your concerns are groundless.”

“Tell me how,” he pleaded.

She sat beside him on his bed, and he tilted his ear to her, never removing his hand from hers. She took a breath and told him the truth. Told him everything he needed to know. “I do not love you sacrificially, Sasuke. I do not choose you knowing that my life or happiness could be forfeit by doing so. I choose you because I can keep up with you. Because something like your absence wouldn’t be enough to determine my permanent happiness. I will choose to go on, content with only the thought that I know you are out there somewhere loving me if that is all that I have in the moment.”

She took a breath and continued before he could respond. “I am strong enough to handle whatever comes my way as a result of loving you. And I have absolutely no doubts in my feelings, my happiness, and what I am willing to compromise to be with the person I love most.”

Sakura reached tenderly to turn his face to hers and their eyes met. She touched his forehead in the same way he had done to her many times before. “That person is you,” she reassured him, offering him a sincere smile as she removed her hand from his forehead.

Then Sasuke leaned forward. Very close to her, and Sakura bit her lip to keep from reaching for his with her own. “Is all of that true?” he requested again, suddenly breathless. And Sakura knew later that it was just to be sure before what came next.

“Yes,” she breathed. And she didn’t have to reach for him, because he was suddenly reaching for her. His hand found her chin and Sakura waited for his choice. She waited for him to move. And he did.

“Then my answer is no; it’s not enough for me either.” When his lips carefully parted her own, Sakura knew without a doubt that he had decided to find some way possible for them, a path where he could choose her, too.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, part 14

Aaaaaaannnnnnd we're done! I literally decided on this ending today and I'm posting it before I start to get THE DOUBTS. I hope you enjoy it and thank you so, so, so much to everyone who's liked/ commented/ messaged along the way.

There's mention in here of an interview that did actually happen a couple of days ago and what's included is pretty much what I've read online. That said, I've embellished some for the purpose of the story, so I'm not claiming to know anything.

Previous sections are on the Master List.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White

Word count: 2,767

Content advisory: other than the usual language, nothing really. Should I be cautioning people about angstiness? Because there's angst.

Thought you should see this.

The toneless message with its link is ruining your day. You can’t stop looking at it, but you don’t want to open the link again because you don’t want David to see it. Not that you have any reason to feel guilty. If anything, he’s the one who has some explaining to do but he also has the biggest match of his life tonight, the one where he can finally put the years of tension and rivalry with Jay behind him. You want to be supportive but you also want some answers.

It can wait, you tell yourself for the hundredth time. You’ll talk about it tomorrow. Or next week. All the time in the world. At least, that’s what you hope.

The whole day, the two of you are together but you have to keep a little bit of distance. Don’t want to get distracted and he has to conserve all the energy he can. Doesn’t stop you from touching each other, of course, but even when you do, it feels like you’re still at a distance. He’s trying not to think about anything except tonight. Or maybe it just looks that way. Maybe he’s thinking about his future beyond tonight, when he moves on. It would be nice to know if he wanted you to move on with him but he’s not letting you in on his plans. Hell, if it were up to him, you wouldn’t even know that there were plans.

You’d expected Jay to have some sort of mocking comments. How come the boyfriend you’re so in love with is giving interviews talking about signing with another company, moving to another state, changing everything about his life, and you don’t know anything about it? How Jay had looked at that interview and immediately known that you weren’t aware of it is beyond you. It’s unnerving sometimes, his ability to figure things out when it comes to you. You suppose it’s one of the reasons he’s always been able to get under your skin and make you do what he wants.

But aside from the initial message, he doesn’t say anything. You think that maybe it was a ploy to see if you’d confront David and start a fight before their match, because that’s exactly the kind of ugly trick Jay loves. When you arrive at the venue, though, you see him getting out of a car at the same time. He doesn’t look scornful, doesn’t shout something insulting, doesn’t strut like a damn peacock in mating season, nothing that you would normally expect from him. He looks straight at you and doesn’t smirk or sneer. On anyone other than Jay White, the look might be interpreted as concern.

Technically, you’re supposed to be there for all the performers but at this point, there’s very little left for you to do. It’s all on them now and if everything turns out to be a garbage fire, it won’t be because of any failings on your part. So you do your rounds to make sure everyone has what they need, knows their cues, gets any questions answered. But you always circle back to where David is and stay for as long as you can before your nerves get the better of you.

And then there’s the one person you should check on, but don’t. You aren’t completely derelict. You check with the people he has around him, you even lower yourself to telling Chris Bey that he can text you if his majesty needs anything. Strangely, you don’t hear anything. You text Jay once to say that you’re available to help. You keep it professional and don’t mention anything about the link he sent earlier, so you’re expecting him to needle you about it, or at least act like you’re useless because you aren’t spending your entire day catering to him. Nothing. You’re almost tempted to go check to make sure he’s not sick because one thing Jay White has never been is one to stay quiet when something is bothering him. Maybe he feels sorry for you, in which case you’d rather he yelled.

You enjoy as much of the show as you can but you spend the last minutes before his match with David, largely quiet, just holding each other’s hands. You walk as far as you can with him and, as his music hits, squeeze his hand extra tight. He turns and gives you a soft, quick kiss before leaning back and doing it again, deeper.

“I love you,” he says, cupping your face in his hand.

“I love you too.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of something. You sound like you’re calling after a train that’s already left the station.

Against your better judgment, you stay where you are. Jay arrives, already acting his part, hands tapping idly on the belt that, in theory, is the reason they’re fighting. You stare at him waiting for him to acknowledge you but there’s nothing. His music swells and he heads out like you’re not even there.

“Just like old times,” you mutter to yourself.

And still.

You watch from backstage as Jay holds his belt up, grinning and preening like he never had a moment’s doubt. You know him well enough to know that’s not true. He keeps cutting looks back at David as if he’s expecting to have to defend himself again, as if he doesn’t believe that he’s truly vanquished him.

The audience doesn’t share his insecurity, cheering him on like he was the hero and David the villain. He’s obnoxious and self-centred but they love him anyway. It makes you feel a little less stupid for the years you’d spent doing the same.

A couple of assistants help David backstage, holding ice to his neck and making sure he doesn’t collapse on the way to the locker room. He looks angry, sullen, and bitter, but not injured, which is a relief. You turn away from the scene in the ring and follow him back to his dressing room, taking over from the dojo students on ice duty when you get there. You don’t speak. You figure it’s better to let him decide when he’s ready.

You’d love to, of course, because despite the fact that you don’t want to make his night worse, it’s becoming unbearable to keep everything inside.

“Where does it hurt?” you ask quietly, picking up a new cold pack.

“Everywhere,” he mumbles.

You hold the ice against his lower back, remembering the awful hit he’d taken on the ring apron.

“You looked great out there.”

“Didn’t feel so great.” He gives you a little smile. “Onward and upward, right?”

“Or southward?” You don’t even mean to say it out loud because this is absolutely not the time to bring it up and certainly not in this passive aggressive way.

“Southward?” He raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about but you can see immediately that he does.

“Nothing, it’s ok.”

He sighs. “What’s southward?”

“Do you need another ice pack?”

“Uh oh, sounds like someone’s been reading the dirt sheets.”

“Just making a joke.” You wish you hadn’t brought this up because now you have to try to cram it back into its hiding space in your brain. And you have to suppress the fact that you’re actually kind of angry.

He watches you, trying to gage your state of mind. “Shouldn’t listen to idle gossip.”

That hits like a slap across the face.

“It’s not gossip, David. You did an interview with Wrestling Observer. If people are speculating or have questions, it’s because of what you said yourself.”

“It’s just talking. I didn’t confirm anything.”

He seems a little proud of this, like he’s very clever for getting people talking about what they don’t know. He doesn’t seem to have an issue with the fact that you’re one of those people.

“It’s all there, though,” you murmur. “Talking about how much you want to work in the States, that you want to try somewhere new, that you’re moving to Florida. You’re going to NXT, right?”

He shrugs and avoids your eyes.

“Were you ever going to tell me about any of this or did you figure I’d be able to piece together where you’d gone from news clippings and Reddit posts?”

“Of course I was going to talk to you. Nothing’s final yet.”

“So you were waiting until you bought a house in Florida and signed a contract with another company? Then what? You’d wake me up one morning and just say ‘bye babe, I’ll be living in another state from now on?’”

“The opportunity came up. This,” he gestures to the two of you, “is still really new. I didn’t want to introduce all these complications.”

“David, I’m not some girl you picked up in a bar. We’ve known each other for years. You’ve talked to me before about your contract renewals. Seems like you could have told me something.”

“I was going to tell you something. When I had a better idea of what I wanted to do.”

“You told a journalist, a ‘dirt sheet’ in your own words, that you’re in the process of moving to Florida. That seems like you have a pretty clear idea.”

“Ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out. You don’t even read that stuff normally.”

“You’re aware people are talking about this on social media, right?”

He grunts but doesn’t say anything more. It’s infuriating. He looks resentful that he has to explain himself, like he didn’t think this was going to be an issue for you. Finally, he meets your eyes, guilt very clearly evident now.

“I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I’m an idiot, I could have figured out that you’d see something, or that someone would tell you.”

“It is my job to know stuff like this, all other considerations aside.”

“Believe me, I did not want you getting this from some random dweeb on Twitter.”

“I wish it had been a random dweeb on Twitter.”

He looks surprised and then it’s like part of him collapses when he realizes what you mean.

“Got up this morning to a one line text and a link to the article from our old pal. You know, making sure I’m not out of the loop.”

“Asshole.”

“In this case no. Somehow, you managed to cede the high moral ground to a man whose morals are generally nonexistent.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Well, this is hardly the ideal moment to have this conversation, but I want to know if and how you see me fitting into this new life you’re going to have.”

He shrugs a little. “How do you want to fit in?”

The realization hits you hard. “You don’t think this is going to last, do you? You didn’t think I was serious.”

“Wanting is a lot easier than having.”

“Maybe for you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just that I… You’re right. I didn’t think I needed to consider you. It wasn’t part of my decision-making process.”

“You’ve been setting this up for weeks. All this has come together at the same time you’ve been with me almost every day. If I wasn’t part of your process, that was the decision right there.”

The two of you stare each other down but there seems to be nothing left to say.

Eventually, you rise to your feet and stammer, “I’m just going to… I need to take a walk or something.”

You wander around the place, watching the crew rushing to pack up. Eventually, you find yourself outside, where the ring still stands, bathed in the glow of the safety lights. It seems forlorn in front of the empty seats but there is still a kind of magic about it. That’s what draws people to this business, you suppose, the feeling of magic.

Since no one else is around, you climb up and through the ropes, kicking off your shoes. You’ve been in one before, but always just to set it up or break it down. You’ve never had an in-ring moment. And there’s a reason for that, which is that you can barely wrestle your way out of your winter coat. But as long as you’re here and you need to do something to take your mind off the sensation that your chest is about to rip.

You run, or jog, from one side to the other, bouncing off the ropes as you do, the way you’ve watched dozens of men doing for years. Although you know the “ropes” are actually steel cables with a plastic coating and you’ve handled them before, it surprises you how much it hurts when you hit them too hard. It’s not the worst pain you have right now.

You pick up speed a little and then practice letting yourself “bump”, a fancy way of saying fall flat on your back. Each time, you knock the wind out of yourself a little but you get right back up and continue your running. Finally, you have enough momentum that you’re able to just roll yourself into a somersault, and sure, it’s not the most perfectly executed thing, but you keep your body straight and you pop right back up. Just like a pro.

“Ta-da!” you say to yourself.

That’s when the tears come. It’s not falling to pieces, but the stew of emotions inside you just starts to leak out. What the hell do you do now?

There are some footsteps behind you, echoing a little in the empty arena, and you see a man’s approaching shadow loom behind you, pushing his long hair back from his face as he crouches down. So you’re not startled when a thick pair of arms wraps around you and you feel his face pressed against your neck.

“Come home.”

You give an unhappy laugh. “Home is kind of a weird concept right now, Jay.”

“You’re always home for me. I guess I was hoping you felt the same way.”

You snap your head to look at him, pulling back enough so that you can focus on his eyes. In all the time you’ve known him, you don’t think he’s ever looked as calm as he does in this moment.

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Yeah, I get to be a target for a while longer.”

“Stop pretending you don’t love it.”

“Sure, I love it. It’s nice. There are other things I love more.” He runs his fingers over your cheeks, cleaning away the remains of your tears. “I’m sorry about sending you that story earlier.”

“All the shit you’ve pulled over the years and that’s the thing you apologize for?”

“Oh I meant I’m sorry that I had to be the one to send it. I don’t want you to shoot the messenger or anything.”

“If I haven’t shot you by now, I think you’re safe.”

He laughs and pulls you back against his chest, kissing down your cheek and neck. Then he stands, pulling you right up with him and letting his lips trail over the crown of your head.

“Come on.” he whispers, taking your hand.

“Wait, I need my shoes.”

You dart over to pick them up and he’s right there to help you into them and to lead you through the ropes and down the stairs. That’s when he plants his lips on yours, firmly, so that you can feel it in your knees.

“I need to go get my suitcase inside.”

“Do you always carry everything with you wherever you go?”

“I’m headed straight to the airport from here. Catching a red eye back.”

“Skip it. Leave tomorrow.”

“Just like that?”

“Sure. I have a really nice room.”

“I know you do, I booked it.”

“Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

“Oh wow, he noticed.”

He kisses you again, a little longer, digging his fingers into your back, and your body melts against him of its own volition.

“I’m not coming back if everything is just going to go back to the way it was, Jay.”

“I didn’t come running after you because you’re good at managing my schedule.”

You give him a sceptical look but you can't entirely keep from smiling.

“Look at me,” he grins, “I’m a god. Any woman would want me and you have me. You should feel like you won the lottery.”

“Yeah,” you drawl, letting him wrap an arm around you as you walk away together, “I won.”

[heyheyloki]

No One Important

Summary: You’ve been by Shigaraki’s side since you both were little, you knew everything about him as he did you. When you get arrested, you’re questioned with how deep the relationship between the two of you go.

Shigaraki Tomura x M!Reader

Word Count: 2405

The room was cold, dimly lit. It was your worse nightmare come true. The one time you weren’t careful, the one single time, and now you end up here. In the custody of the police who caught you red handed. You knew you were going to be sent to jail, and while you kept a cool head about it on the outside, on the inside you were freaking. You were never fond of the idea of jail, hell, you don’t know if anyone really is. But jail wasn’t why you started to grip your hands harder together. The simple and short reason just came down to a person, and that person was Shigaraki Tomura. The leader of the League of Villains that have set a seed of fear within Japan itself. 

Your body sat in a metal chair, your wrists cuffed to the metal table in front of you. Seriously, in times like these, you really wish you had Shigaraki’s decay quick. Sadly, yours won’t help get you out of this mess.

For some reason, you thought it would be hours before someone actually comes in to interrogate you. Although, when that single door opened, you were proved wrong. Another man, much older, walked in. His appearance itself was plan and had nothing noticeable about him, but you do remember his face since he was the officer that gave you a look that made you pissed off to your very core when they brought you in.

When he sat down, he just stared at you. You, staring back, held a look that the cop thought could only be held by a killer. It was dark, cold, and distant. One that surged with unbelievable darkness and would swallow anyone whole into an empty abyss if they looked long enough. 

“I don’t think I need to tell you that no matter what, you will be heading off to jail.” He started out saying, even his voice average. “But, if you work with me, we can make you an offer.”

You scowled. “And here I thought the cops don’t work with people like me.”

“Well, if you have information we need, we’ll work with anyone.” He explained.

“Fucking hypocrites,” you uttered under your breath. It seriously took everything in your power not to start grinding your teeth since you knew he would take it as a sign of fear when it actuality, you were just pissed off beyond belief.

The cop took a minute of silence, collecting his thoughts before he opened up a tan colored folder, the contents stock piled with stuff about the League of Villains. It held a few theories in there, witness statements from UA students during the attack, and a statement from Izuku Midoryia. You knew him since Shigaraki couldn’t ever shut up about how much he hates the damned brat. You didn’t care much for kids. 

“Your leader, Shigaraki Tomura, how long have you known him?” He asked. 

Your lips remained closed as you eyed down the cop. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t start talking unless he had something over your head, and jail didn’t seem to be something effective enough. Though, in your mind, you were ready to screw up their investigation. It was the perfect opportunity in the more imperfect situation.

“A few years.” You lied, your words stern as you use one of your best skills. 

The cop took a second to write that down on a new page in his folder, a page just for you. After all, you were the second more dangerous threat to them. First being Shigaraki. 

“He recruited you? Or did you seek him out?” He questioned, his voice a bit more lighter than before.

“He sought me out.” You confessed. “I just so happened to have skills that weren’t being put to use and he was there.”

The cop nodded, writing it down. You thought he would just ask another simple question, but before he did he pulled out a picture from his folder. It was of Izuku Midoriya. 

“Do you know him?”

“No.”

“Did you know Shigaraki was targeting him?”

“Not at all.”

You sat there, watching as the cop’s sights narrowed on your face. It was clear to you he knew something was wrong, but you seemed to genuine in not knowing much about the boy. You could tell it was messing with the cop which only made you to continue this game even more. 

“Alright then, so it seems Shigaraki Tomura was a private person. Would you say that as well?” He questioned.

You couldn’t help but stare at the man for a moment, your brain kicking back to the first time Tomura truly opened up to you. During that time you felt like you were going to explode, in truth, it made you the happiest man in the world to know you could do something like that for him. Especially when you both started to drift apart as he got older, closing himself off from everyone, including you. Seriously, it took everything in you to not to cry when it happened.

“Yeah, he is.” You stated, the first truthful thing you’ve said this entire time. 

“Alright then,” the cop started out, “did you have any part in the attack at UA High School?”

“Nah,” you hummed. “The boss made me stay at the base. I was not allowed to leave.”

“So, he’s controlling?”

“I guess,” you uttered as your mind left you. You could remember the look in his eyes when he told you to say behind. Normally, they were bloodshot and soaked in fear and hate. In that moment though, all you could saw was desire. Desire to keep you safe from whatever may happen while he went to go attack a well-known school. While he went to go kill All Might. He never confirmed anything to you until later in time when he confessed that he just wanted to keep you out of harms way. That he was more afraid of you getting captured by those bastard heroes than if it was him.

“I was more of an assist if needed, nothing more than a tool to use on smaller missions.” You tried to divert, making sure he didn’t see you pause. 

“I see, so, basically his personal assassin?” He asked. Noticeably getting more comfortable around you since his hands were now down on his lap instead on perched up on the table in a dominate manner.

“Yeah, I suppose I was.” You verified.

“Than I guess you wouldn’t happen to know Shigaraki Tomura’s true name?” The cop questioned, eyeing you down.

You let a faint chuckle leave your lips. “He wouldn’t tell anyone.”

While that may be true now, you just happened to know since you both grew up together. You were with him through everything and anything, promising to stick by his side to the bitter end. And you supposed, this was going to be the end on your side. Jail wasn’t exactly the kindest towards people like you. Sure, you could defend yourself? But for how long until something truly horrid happens to your in a place like that. 

“I see,” he uttered before digging through his folder once more. Quick to place a picture of Shigaraki on the table top in front of you. When you looked down at it you tired your best not to let even the most faint smile creep up on you, knowing that if you did, the cop would figure it out. 

He pointed to Shigaraki’s real hands before saying, “Do you know what that’s from? What does it mean to him?”

Around Shigaraki’s wrist was a burn mark, the size of your hand. In truth, he had a lot of them planted along his body, some intentional, some not. That one just happened to be an unintentional one that happened when you both were young and you had no control over your quirk. He used to always bother you when it came to those, but other time he started to pester you less. You thought he had just accepted the burn, but in truth, he just happened to grow fond of it. 

“Well, I mean, it’s a burn.” You said in a deadpanned tone. You didn’t know why he was asking such a question when it was obvious what it was.

“I know, but the hand print,” the cop started out by saying, “who’s hand print is it? Who caused that burn?”

“No one that I know of. It was probably during a fight he had before I ended up joining.” You were lying right through your teeth, and you would do it over and over again if it meant he was safe. Even at the cost of your own head. 

“Ah, I guess I just wasted my time with that one.” The man stated to himself before putting the picture away. In your mind, you truly wished he didn’t. 

The cop sighed. “Now, we don’t have much on you. But, I’d like to ask you a question anyway.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I want to see if you know anyone named, uh, let’s see here,” he hummed as he flipped through his notes. “An [Name]? Does it ring any bells? Has Shigaraki ever mentioned it before?”

Oh, yeah, he has. Many times in many different ways. He loved the way your named flowed out, hell, he adored it so much he couldn’t even call you by your codename at times. He would just spit it out at the base, when you were both alone. You knew he struggled a bit when you both were out on a mission or in public, but he did try because he didn’t want you to get captured. It was odd to you how they got a hold of your true name, but that wouldn’t be a mystery for long.

“The boy who was attacked by Shigaraki, Midoriya, when your leader approached him at the mall a while back he mentioned his name several times. Has he ever said it around the base before? Is it one of the other members?” He revealed.

You knew Shigaraki had that habit. Part of you wanted to be mad, angry even for not telling you that happened, but you couldn’t even if you tried. 

“He has, but it’s not anyone at base. None of us know that guy.” You simply put. In the back of your head, even if you did rat yourself out, you knew they would use you as a bargaining chip with Shigaraki. That reason alone made your belief that all these bastards were sick and corrupt even stronger.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since you did say he was a private person.” The cop stated, his little act good until he said, “Except what he said doesn’t aline with your statement.”

“That so?” You questioned. You couldn’t break under pressure, it’s exactly what they want. You swore you would die before you ever let someone like this have the upper-hand in things. “What did he say than?”

The cop eyed you down, looking for even the smallest bit of sweat to graze your skin. When he didn’t see any, he complied with your request and read quote for quote, “When it comes down to it, I hate basically everything. But the Hero Killer pisses me off the most right now, hell, he even hurt [Name]. I don’t know if he’s native or just so cocky that he thinks he can get away with that.”

The man gazed up at you, wondering if your neutral expression changed at all. It didn’t. In that moment, you were willing to do anything to just have him continue, even mask your happiness.

“When another UA student showed up, Shigaraki made up the ruse that he was a fan of Midoryia after seeing him on TV during the Sport’s Festival. Since he had his hood on, no one could tell it was the leader of the League. Just as he was about to leave though he said,” the cop stated as he cleared his throat, “Oh, you were here with a friend? I didn’t know, sorry about that. I should probably get going too. [Name] will get mad if I don’t show up on time, he’s very picky like that.”

The man sighed as he closed the folder, moving it to the side a bit. He leaned back into his chair before huffing out, “We originally thought that name was just someone close to him, or maybe even just to throw us off our investigative course. But based on several of your statements and the burn marks, I’m starting to believe it’s someone a little more than just a person he trusts.”

“Is that so?” You questioned.

“It is. You stated before he was private, so perhaps you had no idea. But at the same time you stated that it was no one at your base, even though the Hero Killer was a member of the League and supposedly hurt [Name] in some kind of fight or a falling out.” The cop explained. “Now, if Shigaraki is such a private person, it’s hard for me to believe that [Name] wouldn’t be someone who works very closely with him.”

You knew it was game over. You were close, but not perfect enough to pass this level in the game. When the cop placed his hand back on the table, you knew it was really game over. “So, mind telling me who Shigaraki is to [Name]?”

In your mind it raced over so many different points in your life that you shared with Shigaraki. The fights, the late nights, the mid-day talks, everything. Though, the most vivid one was the day he expressed such love to you in a way that words could never describe. You remembered the way his blue locks obeyed gravity, invading his sweaty and memorized face as he gazed down at you. You remember the feel of tears in the corners of your eyes, not daring to fall. His hand soon coming up to your face and wiping it away with his thumb, careful not to hurt you with his quirk. 

You sighed, your gaze hard on the cop as you felt the protective walls you had up start to fall. You needed to say it quickly or else he wouldn’t believe you. You couldn’t hurt Shigaraki more than you probably already have just by being caught. Perhaps he would come for you, but in the end you just needed to tell one more lie. One more lie before you reveal the truth to Shigaraki and only him alone. 

“No one important.”

[hoseas-angry-ghost]

YES YES YES I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR UR THEORIES

Hello anon! I am very surprised anyone wants to hear my chutney but here's my Strange Man Hot Take with some hopefully interesting info for curious parties:

To be honest, R* included so much misdirection around the Strange Man's identity (especially in RDR1) that I'm not *totally* convinced they're married to any one idea. RDR2 also complicated things by introducing new religions into Red Dead's world (Voodoo, Old Norse, etc.): he's no longer limited to just Christian / Western interpretations, as in RDR1, and it's possible R* might try to syncretise him with figures from other faiths (they did place Bayall Edge in Bayou Nwa, where most of the Voodoo stuff is).

At the same time, though, I think RDR2 actually narrowed things down somewhat in terms of the direction R* chose to take his character, and what we were shown of that. There's still a level of misdirection in RDR2, but IMO, it almost comes off as half-hearted in comparison to what was basically trolling in RDR1 -- it seems like they were a lot more focused on playing the "bad news" angle the second time round.

Based on what we know, and on the balance of things, I'm not convinced that the Strange Man is necessarily meant to be any one thing or figure, but I do think he's meant to fulfil some type of Satanic role within Red Dead's world, either in main or in part.

I won't compare and dissect other theories or anything, I just thought I'd list off some things that people might find interesting:

Armadillo. The deal between the Strange Man and Herbert Moon seems to be a pretty textbook Faustian bargain: Moon is offered earthly rewards ("happiness or two generations"), and although the price was (tellingly?) never specified, it seems like the recent Blood Money update for RDO all but confirmed that the cost was probably his soul. Although it's left ambiguous what Moon actually chose, the Armadillo curse was possibly an unforeseen (for Moon) consequence of the deal's terms, which would fit with similar tales of the devil or demon in question taking liberties with their end of the bargain.

In the files, there's some great audio of Moon off the shits and straight-up saying "I've made a deal with the devil, and I will never truly die!" It's possible this was cut for its own reasons (too overt?), but as a lot of stuff was apparently cut from Armadillo, I'm guessing it was either cut when Arthur in New Austin got cut, or it was part of something that R* didn't have time to implement in the epilogue. Either way, if it's not actually in the game then it's not technically canon, but it is an indication of what R* was thinking during development.

There's a lot of audio from the Armadillo townsfolk in general about devils and "devil curses," but the only thing I know of that definitely made it into the game is a line from the town crier ("Devil has the town in his hand").

There's audio of the Armadillo bartender saying "I heard the Tillworths made a deal with the devil to keep from gettin' sick! I don't wanna die any more than the next man, but ain't no safety worth a man's soul." Possibly idle gossip, but given Moon, possibly not.

RDO seemed to flirt with the idea of soul-selling a little bit with Old Man Jones' line "Well, this is America, so anything can be bought -- even souls," but then RDO pretty much just came right out and said it with Bluewater John in the Blood Money update. Bluewater John also apparently made a deal, almost definitely with the Strange Man (given the Moon deal and how close Bayall Edge is to all the drama); he was based on blues musician Robert Johnson and the myth that he sold his soul to the devil for mastery of the guitar. It's basically a rehash of the Moon deal, except it's... not subtle in its dialogue about deals, devils and souls.

"I GAVE EVERYTHING FOR ART, AND I LEARNED TOO MUCH AND NOTHING AT ALL" written on the wall at Bayall Edge also sounds like a reference to another one of these deals to me ("everything" being their soul, and "I learned too much and nothing at all" the foolishness of accepting eternal damnation for temporary knowledge). I think Bayall Edge might have originally belonged to a painter who struck a deal with the Strange Man for artistic skill, but then the Strange Man slowly possessed him or something -- which could be why some of the landscapes depict RDR1's I Know You locations, and why the writings on the wall kind of look like they deteriorate in quality. The puddle of blood at the foot of the portrait might also be linked to this somehow (whose is it?).

It's the deal-making for souls that really pushed the "devil" theory over the edge for me, because I can't think of whose wheelhouse that would be in except a devil's, or someone similarly malevolent.

Alternative name. The Strange Man's character model is called cs_mysteriousstranger in RDR2, and he's referred to as "the mysterious stranger" at least once in RDR1's in-game text. This could be a reference to The Mysterious Stranger, written by Mark Twain between 1897-1908, in which the stranger is a supernatural being called Satan. (At the end of the last version written, he tells the protagonist that nothing really exists and their lives are just a dream.)

Bayall Edge. Bayall Edge was possibly based on a Louisiana urban myth called the Devil's Toy Box, which is "described as a shack. From the outside, it is unappealing and average. ...The inside of the shack consists of floor-to-ceiling mirrors, including the walls. No one can last more than five minutes in this room. ...According to the legend, if you stood inside this mirror-room alone for too long, supposedly the devil would show up and steal your soul." The Strange Man does show up in the mirror eventually, and it's kind of curious that the paintings that change depending on your Honour act as metaphorical mirrors. This was also cut, but in the files, Arthur's drawing of the interior of Bayall Edge is unusually sloppy, like his faculties were impaired or something.

"Awful, fascinating and seductive". John writes this about Bayall Edge after the portrait is finished, and I think that's as good a description of something like the / a devil as any, but "seductive" is a big red flag for me, because it's such an odd choice of word and, from a Christian perspective, it's so loaded with connotations of evil and sin and temptation.

I Know You. Some have pointed out that I Know You in RDR1 resembles the Temptation of Christ, as it also takes place in three separate locations in the desert, and John is given moral tests in which he must choose between higher virtue or worldly vice. John is also, in a weird way, a kind of Christ-like figure in that he ultimately sacrifices his life for others. I do think the "temptation" in these encounters is very surreptitious but very much there ("Or rob her yourself" -- excuse me??), but they may also be operating on a Biblical definition of the word, i.e. a test or trial with the free choice of committing sin.

RDR1 dialogue. I don't want to get *too* much into this because I feel like we're all just getting punked in RDR1, but I think the Strange Man's dialogue broadly fits with something like a "devil" interpretation, or at least doesn't contradict it.

I'm thinking particularly of lines like "Damn you!" / "Yes, many have" (which would work metaphorically but also literally, given that the devil was thrown from heaven by God and his angels), and "I hope my boy turns out just like you" (of all the leading theories, I think Satan is the only figure who's popularly conceptualised as having a son, or prophesied to have a son -- God obviously had a son, but that ship kinda sailed).

I think the "accountant" line refers to Honour (which even uses an invisible numerical system), and how John's fate depends on the number of both good and bad acts he's committed throughout his life, and how these weigh against each other. If the Strange Man likes to collect souls, then he would have a vested interest in auditing you and seeing if your accounts are in the black or the red, as it were (and providing you with opportunities to push yourself further into the latter...), because if you're bankrupt, you're his.

Blind Man Cassidy. Interestingly, Cassidy seems to distinguish between "Death" and the Strange Man, implying that he's something else beyond his understanding: in one of Arthur's fortunes, after his TB diagnosis, he says "the man with no nose [Death] is coming for you," but in one of John's fortunes, he says "Two strangers seek thee: one from this world, perhaps one from another. One brings hatred; I'm not so sure what the other brings."

Arthur's cut dialogue. In the files, there's audio of Arthur having the exact same conversation with Herbert Moon as John in the epilogue, asking about the Strange Man picture because he "just seemed familiar". I think it's interesting that, like John, Arthur also would have apparently recognised the Strange Man despite (presumably) never seeing him before. Given how strong a theme morality is in Red Dead -- and how much both John and Arthur struggle with it -- my theory is that they find the Strange Man vaguely familiar because they're both familiar with the evil within themselves, or the potential for evil; and likewise, the Strange Man "knows" John because he embodies evil in some sense, so is aware of John's worst sins (like his involvement at Blackwater), or possibly even all of his sins (which would be, like, a lot).

Honourable mention: There's such a greater emphasis on conspiracies, myths, etc. in RDR2 that I half-wonder if the Strange Man's RDR2 incarnation was partly inspired by Hat Man (~excuse the link~ but often it's hard to find good sources for the kind of weird shit R* includes in their games).

ANYWAY, this got a little long but I hope someone found all this at least passably interesting. Thanks again for letting me ramble about the video game man, anon!

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Maybe a fic with serena zhang where mc is going blind (not of old age tho, just because sickness you know...) and the reaction of serena and maybe the mc is reassuring her and fluffs things like that ?

Warning: Writer’s first time writing a visually impaired character. Condition referenced is Retinitis Pigmentosa.

...

There’s the flutter of sheets beside you, a small sigh. The sound catches on the edges of your dreams, satin soft. The bed dips just slightly. You can feel a warm presence hover right over you, and it doesn’t take much to figure out who it is.

You keep your eyes closed, waiting. The presence hesitates. Itches closer, like a wary cat, then stops. There’s a small pause before Serena starts pulling away, and you almost want to roll your eyes.

Really? She’s never this bashful. She’s usually on top of you as soon as she wakes up.

“Well, if you won’t do it, I will.”

She lets out a small squeak as you reach for her, managing to grab her arm. The kiss you pull her into is sweet and short, vibrant with loving energy. She leans back slightly, just enough to mutter:

“I didn’t want to wake you…”

So you pull her back in, smiling into the kiss. One of her hands settle on your hips easily, effortlessly, and you hum in delight at her touch.

“You’re being silly.”

“Sorry about that. How do you feel?”

“I’m fine.”

And you are. There’s no pain, just a slight discomfort… you hadn’t become aware of it immediately, anyway. Serena had been the first to tell you that you had been squinting your eyes a lot recently, but that wasn’t surprising. Out of everyone in the island, she’s the one that paid attention to you the most.

It had been a small ‘huh’ from your part. It wasn’t a bit concern, maybe you were just tired… but then you had begun stumbling more often when you walked in darker places. It began taking longer and longer for your eyes to adjust to darkness, and that had caught your attention a bit more, and you had frowned and thought that maybe it was because of winter—somehow, someway—and everything was just… darker. Looking at it back now, it was a very silly theory.

And then the edges of your vision just began to… chip away. There was an initial blurriness and then nothing, like covering your left eye and trying to see through it anyway. There was just nothing there. You had to turn your head to see things at your sides. Serena’s detail-driven mind had noticed right away, maybe even before you had realized it was happening, and you could feel the confusion and worry in her expression from miles away.

She had confronted you about it the night before. Her words had been like a heavy waterfall, snapping out of the daze you had been in, because somehow you had convinced yourself nothing was wrong along the way.

Well. There was no use ignoring it, was there? You needed to push through. It would be fine—it would change things, but not for the worse. It would just be… different.

“No headaches?” Your wife continues. She looks beautiful, dark hair spilling over her shoulders like a cool night, and you grin softly at her. You don’t know how of your vision you would lose, so you’d rather commit her image to memory just to be safe. Not that it was hard—she lived in your mind rent-free.

“No, the one I had yesterday disappeared pretty quickly.”

“Try not to strain your eyes too much. You’ll just get another one that way.”

“Right.”

“I… I would prefer if we went back with Clyde next time he comes. It should be in a few days—”

“Huh? To California?”

“Anywhere is fine, really. Anywhere that has a competent ophthalmologist, at any rate.”

“But—”

“Please,” she says, quietly, chocolate eyes sad and dull like aged wood, and the word curls around your heart and stays there like a cold chill. “Please. I just want to confirm you’re safe.”

“…alright.” You reach for her once again and pull her close, holding her there as if she were the only source of warmth in your life. In a sense, she is. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, babe—I’ll always listen to your concerns.”

“Thank you for that, Aura.”

“It’s also a great chance to introduce you to my parents formally. I know they aren’t satisfied with just letters.”

“Mm, you should meet my mom, too. She’s a bit eccentric, but nothing that will embarrass me too hard.”

“If she is as sarcastic as you are, I feel like it’ll become a roast session soon enough.”

“You might be disappointed.”

You shrug. “Eh, I’ll live. Anyway, we’ll be gone for a month, right? I’ll need to search for a substitute… classes just started, too…”

“It… might be a bit longer.”

That’s surprising. “Really? I thought you wouldn’t like to stay longer… but it’s alright! I’ll work something out for the school.”

“I’ll tell you how long later. We need to tell Angelo.”

“Yeah, we probably should… and Serena? Thank you. For looking out for me.”

“I’ll always look out for you, Aura. You are my whole world.”

Red tints your cheeks, a pleasant buzz rolling lazily down your spine at her words. “You are perfect, Serena. I just—I love you so much…”

She grins, her worry from earlier properly squashed. “I know. I love you too.”

…

Talking things out with Angelo and Olivia could be going better, you think.

“So Aura is going blind, then?” Olivia asks, surprise in her voice. “We could try to put something together—”

“No.” Serena’s voice is flat and cold, analytical. “Nothing of the sort. Not for this.”

You can imagine the way Olivia’s expression schools at the words, like it had all those years ago, when Serena had challenged her methods.

“We’ve been through this, Serena, and we agreed—”

“I know what we agreed, but this is not our specialty, Olivia. We won’t know what to look for, and messing around could prove disastrous. We’re practically setting everything up for a misdiagnosis if—”

“Well, maybe the spirits—”

“Don’t bring them into this. I don’t want to think about any magical related treatment right now, I only want to know what is happening.”

“C’mon, from her symptoms it can’t be something like Ocular Melanoma.”

Serena’s shoulders loosen just slightly, but she doesn’t hesitate when she turns towards Angelo. Your vision isn’t too damaged to keep you from telling key changes in her expression yet, and the face she wears now is stone-cold determination.

“We’re going back with Clyde. We’ll return in eight months or so.”

“Hold on, eight months?” You pipe up, stunned beyond measure.

“The diagnosis won’t take long, but there are some things we should do and I figured we could use it as a vacation, too.”

A vacation, she says, as if you weren’t already living in a dream island. It’s a pretty cozy place, the sole thought of reintegrating society and the chaotic tempo it operated in—with honking cars and yelling citizens and loud parties at every turn—make your head spin.

“Oh, you want to get O&M for Aura?” Olivia says, and there’s a special sort of softness in her voice now, as if it was something she hadn’t considered before.

“O&M?” Angelo asks, interested. “Sounds fun.”

“Mm, I don’t know about the fun part, but it is necessary. Only if the condition gets worse, of course, but I don’t like taking any chances.” Your wife explains, more relaxed now that she sees no one is jumping to fight her.

“Wait, but what is that?” You ask, frowning slightly at the unknown term.

There’s the thump of boots by your right—turning your head reveals a grinning Olivia.

“Things like learning braille and moving around with a cane. It’s rad stuff.”

“Braille? Uh, no offense Serena, but there aren’t many books in the island to begin with…”

“We’ll go shopping once we’re there. I wanted to buy some medical texts too. Clyde always manages to bring me old versions of the books I request…”

“I feel like you should have told me this sooner.”

“It’s quick—shouldn’t take more than six months.” Olivia intervenes, humming to herself. “And you’d need a cane too… we don’t have the resources to produce aluminum ones…”

“I’d be okay with a plain wood one, you know...”

[jonah-aesthetic]

Jingle Bells I Daniel Seavey

Daniel X Reader 

Plot:  Your best friend since childhood takes you on a sleigh ride. one you’ve only mentioned once to him. With the entire Christmas vibe he brings to life it’s hard for you to keep your feelings at bay for him.

Word count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: unedited I feel like this piece flopped for me. I didn’t want it too long, but it also dragged on a little. Yet I didn’t think I put enough detail in this one. 

Rating: 16+ (I’m 20 so I’d like my readers to be some what around there.)

MoodBoard

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

Your vision was blocked by a folded bandanna tied around your head with a secured knot or two. Hand tightly locked with Daniel’s, feeling his thumb rub a top yours for comfort. Snow crunched under your Dr. Martens with ease, slightly soft from the snow fall a few days prior. Slow steps as He guided you keeping your location a surprise.

 Your senses felt heightened with your eyes looking into the dark oblivion. The vague bitter smell of horse manure and the rather oddly pleasant hay scent Reached your nose. You wouldn’t have noticed it before, almost feeling like a damn blood hound. Yet it gave a hint on where he was taking you. 

Two hours previous he woke you up, you’re nothing close to a morning person. So you cussed his ass out of your apartment so you could enjoy the fantasy dreams about him. Ones you could never endure in reality, Daniel’s your best friend who you were insufferably in love with. 

Yet he came again, using the spare you forgot you gave him. But this time he came bearing an Eggnog Latte and gingerbread cookie. Slaying the ferocious dragon into silence, the way he always knew how.  The caffeine and baked good keeping you at bay as he told you he at the day planned for the both of you. Although it was a surprise, all he said was dress appropriate for the chilly winter weather and grab a blanket. 

Analyzing everything in your head for a quick second. You realized he was bringing you on that sleigh ride you mentioned once before. Thinking it’d be fun to do during the winter months, you didn’t think he’d actually book an entire day for it. Making it a big thing, you wish he didn’t. Cause it only made butterflies flutter, tempting you to wreck your friendship. 

“Watch your step..” Daniel’s voice is more projected against the snow over ground. Heart slamming upon your rib cage and you swear you can hear it.

“Actually just bend your knees, It’s a stairwell and I’d rather not risk you eating shit. Or breaking a nose in the winter.” At his words you probably figured they were slippery or he didn’t trust you not to slip, you were no doubt clumsy as Bambi, and the man knew it. 

Bending your knees a little, which you curious on why he asked you in the first place. Yet you trusted him with your life, there’s no going back on years of friendship now Seavey. his arms scooped you under your legs and against your back. Bringing you closer to his chest, the motion fast and unexpected as you let of a small whimper. Daniel groaned as he hopped getting a more sturdy hold on you. 

“God you’re heavy.” He breathes, the air from his lungs hitting your cheeks. 

“Then put me down Asshole.” You scold him, slapping his chest, feeling a deep chuckle rumble within. 

“I was joking, you’re not heavy, you’re fine. It was a bad joke anyways. Now hold on I might drop you.” 

“Daniel That’ll be the last thing you’ll do before you end up in hell.” You threaten playfully. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck after feeling him climb up the stairs. It was a small rocking motion almost like you were on a ride especially with the blindfold on. 

“Was that a death threat?” 

“If you drop me, yes, yes it is.” 

Gasping you felt Daniel fake drop you, it was a slower motion that you thought it would be to actually drop you. Nonetheless it still scared you, clawing on tighter to him. Whitening your knuckles as angry wasps scattered in your stomach. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I have you Seavey.” You yelled still preparing for the fall the would never come. 

Again you could feel the glorious deep chuckle of his erupt from his chest. Vibrating against you, turning angry wasps into love-sick butterflies. “We’re hear anyways.” 

“Than you can put me down and take this damn blindfold off.” You speak trying to reach for it. Daniel’s hand caught your wrist like a reflex. “Not yet, just a few more minutes.”

Opening a door and being engulfed my warmed, you shivered from the drastic temperature change. Bells rang above warning the receptionist that customers have arrived. It was around an hour, or what felt like an hour to you later. Of going over everything for the surprise, from the time to the pricing. Which you weren’t to happy about, yet after all of it nobody confirmed your theory. You knew what it was, but you wanted it to be heard. Though nothing about it was said. 

Nada. Zilp. Zitch. Nothing. Not even a damn crumb. 

Going from warm to cold wasn't as drastic of a change. Daniel still held you bridal style, scared you eat shit. Which you most likely would have, if he let you climb down the steps. You felt very natural in his arms anyways, like to pieces of a puzzle. 

Daniel began to lower you softly letting you go before your feet were on the ground again. Silently thanking him for being on your two feet again. His presence coming behind you, raising his fingers to the knots and began to pick at them. 

“Are you ready?” 

Yes I’ve been waiting all damn day for this. Take it off Seavey.” Hearing him chuckle behind a smile spread across your face. Feeling the bandanna drop, hands flying to your mouth as you gasped. You knew it, yet you were still shocked by the sight of it. 

In front of you was bright red sleigh with gold detailing all around it. Had a massive resemblance to the famous Santa Klaus one. instead of nine reindeer, a beautiful black Clydesdale stood in their place.  On of the bands resting upon his butt had a line of huge bells. Ringing every time he moved, bringing the whole Christmas vibe alive. 

whirling around gazing at him a gentle smile rested on his lips. His blonde hair half tucked under a black beaning. Light stubble dancing along his jaw, making him look older. His icy blue eyes watching you, fighting the urge to tell him you wanted him. Maybe he knew it already, that’s why he took you here, and maybe he didn’t.

“You didn’t have to.” You said shaking your head, 

“I know, I wanted to, I had the money for it.” He shrugged stuffing his hands into his pockets. Why couldn’t Daniel be less attractive! it wasn’t fair. perfect silence emerged over both of you, genuine smiles with adoration for one another hidden behind your eyes. 

“If you Two love birds are ready, I love to show you what this gorgeous winter has to offer.” The Driver spoke, sitting upon the front seat that was two or three feet higher then the main seats in the center of the sleigh. 

With giddy giggles Daniel escorted you towards it, his hand resting on the smallest part of your back. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear you could’ve felt his hand reach and squeeze your hip. 

Sitting down it was a tight and cozy fit, the bench and the back rest was cushioned with a black leather material. Smooth to the touch and soft as ever, with a clicker of the chauffeur’s tongue, the sleigh bolted to life, cause you and Daniel to fall back into each other. Soon enough the jingle bells rhythm came into ear shot. Making this whole experience feel like you woke up in a fucking Christmas. Unbelievable real.

“Are you okay?” Daniel’s laugh fans your cheeks as he helps you to sit up right. 

“Never better.” You say with an undying happiness you possessed inside. Not feeling the way the cold nipped at your nose making you look like and off brand Rudolph. 

“Here.” He speaks as you watch him unfold a black blanket, a little dumbfound, the thing was massive and surprised you hadn't noticed it before. Handing you one of the corners of the blanket, and instantly wrapped it around you as Daniel did the same. Pulling you two closer together, trying to engulf your body in it as much as you. 

“Thanks” you whisper under your breathe, watching it form into an icy cloud. Glancing at the gold letters embroidered into the corner of the blanket tight. it was a gift from Daniel’s mother giving to you on the day you both graduated. Remembering the words she said to you like it was yesterday. 

“You know I wasn't to ecstatic about new neighbors moving in. But as soon as I saw this sweet little girl playing with my boy. I was glad that your parents’ pick the that house. I Watched you two laughing and giggling in the yards, I just knew you two would be in separable. It’s a shame that boy of mind doesn't see the love that you have for him...”

It shocked you to know that she knew that you were in love with him. You covered your tracks pretty well back then. Controlling yourself around him was child’s play compared to now. She never interfered with the way you felt about him, You were grateful at the time. Now not so much, but it could’ve wrecked the friendship you had-

“Y/N look.” Daniel’s voice cut your thoughts short, His attention of the right. You follow his gaze, spotting nine caribou in scattered in the woods. Or rather nine reindeer, you guessed they weren’t replaced after all. You could feel the sleigh come to a gentle stop, the jingle bells’ song vanished into the air. 

“Oh shit! Reindeer.” No filter with pure shock, 

Curiously watching them from a far, you admired each and every one. Noticing a chunky bell lacing around their necks, like they were Santa's famous reindeer's’ out of the movies. 

“And watch this.” He speaks glancing up at the driver, as if on cue he places his fingers in mouth and releases a high pitch whistle. “Keep an eye out for him,” 

“Keep an out of who?-” 

A  reindeer further into the forest walks towards us, elegant and gentle. Stalking through the snow as if he held pride, significantly larger than all the other reindeer, he must of been the alpha, the leader. 

Amazed at the whole thing you couldn't think of words to say and if you manged something. It’d definitely come out as word vomit. Reaching closer and closer to the sleigh you could her the bell jingle against his chest. Black scribble appeared on the red ribbon clasped around his neck. Soon being able to read the name ‘Rudolph’  on both side on his throat. 

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Daniel asks looking back at you expecting you to say words you couldn’t fathom at the moment. You gulped and nodded your head vigorously. He was more then beautiful he was stunningly gorgeous and massive. You’ve never seen a wild animal in person not to mention this close to one. 

Daniel held a chuckle at your reaction to this entire encounter with Rudolph. Finding your dumbfound shock, adorably cute. In moments like these he dreaded the knowledge of being your best friend and not your boyfriend. Where he could just grab the back of your neck and smash his lips hungrily to yours. 

The adrenaline high was retreating in your veins, causing your mind to process again. The cage of anxiety breaking open as the glance of Daniel’s ocean eyes calmed you down.  

He’s fucking perfect. Look at those dopy eyes, various shades of blues swirled inside them. causing your heart to melt into the bottom of your stomach. All thoughts of common sense started to leave, glancing at his lips. looking pink and soft as ever, god they must taste like heaven, or at least the closest thing to it. 

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend. 

Looking forward you could’ve swore you breathed the same air as Rudolph. Still he was more beautiful up close. White creamy chest that reached to his legs, chocolate brown body. adorable nose that had the softest resemblance to a cow. Antlers sprouting from a top his head, developing towards the sky. A small white box was tethered to his left antler by a black ribbon. Throwing your best friend a suspicious glance, he nodded letting you reach for it.

Clasping the velvet box in your hand, feeling your heart pound repeatedly. Breath caught, anxious of what’s in the box. Feeling your gut tell you this was it and whatever this box contained was going to change everything. Distracting yourself you focused on Rudolph, seeing the way he looked at you. As if he knew what it was somehow. 

taking your glove off with your teeth you reached for him, pausing three inches before his nose. If you learned anything from Draco’s encounter with Buckbeck, was to be patient and let the animal come to you. Although at the end of the day it was just a fucking movie. 

Warmth exploded from your palm to your elbow, smiling you trailed your hand to rest under his chin. His fur softer than you were expecting it to be, yet you didn’t know what you were expecting. “Thank you Rudolph.” You whisper to him soon retracting your hand. Backing away he retreated to his herd, quite as if the encounter with him never happened.

Taking up your spot next to Daniel you glance up at him, “What is this?” You asked breathlessly. 

“Open it.” He says, voice a tremble and couldn’t help but think that he knows. Was this what a best friend break up was like? Staring at it you forced the top open, but you let it go. Snapping shut without a glimpse. You shake your head, gulping feeling the bile rise. “I can’t Daniel” 

His hand comes into view, twice the size of yours. Veins scattered along his knuckles, red from the cold. Taking the box from you grip you stared at your fingers, missing the feeling of his hands on yours. 

“I’m in love with you.” He blurts in out like it was nothing new to you. Your head whipped so fast you got dizzy. His eyes were genuine, you always knew he was lying. The way he would glance up and down then to side. Tongue poking out with a fiddling of handing, but he didn’t show any signs. He was a good actor though. 

“She told you.” You accuses like a defensive mechanism. You guessed Keri thought you moved on with your feelings for Daniel. There was no other reason you could think  of. 

“She did.’ He confirms, Nodding his head. Was this was this a joke to him? Cause it wasn’t fucking funny. You shook your head feeling the fire burning in your blood. 

‘I can’t do this.” You speak, removing yourself from the seat and jumping out of the sleigh. Starting to head back in the direction you think the farm was located. The cold weather bite at your body, but you hugged yourself too furious to care. 

“Y/N!” 

“Leave me alone Daniel.” You could here him chase after you, with the ay he was breathing. 

“Mom told me you wouldn’t believe me.” His voice getting louder. 

“Maybe you should’ve kept it to yourself Seavey, better yet you should’ve let me sleep in.” You were hurt, and you didn’t know how to comprehend any of this. 

“I love when you talk about things you’re passionate about. Like the colors on your paint palette, how you mixed blue and purple for the perfect shade of magenta.” 

That was two months ago and you remembered the excitement you felt. After hours of mixing you finally made the exact shade you wanted. Daniel was the first one you came to, as he was at your apartment. 

“Daniel stop.” using his name the way you were was like a sting each time. 

“Or the time you hit that sparrow, you pulled over as so soon as you felt the bird hit the grill. You dug him a grave with a used spoon in the truck of my car. Gave him a funeral and forced me to speak at it like it was lost friend. It was the day I finally realized I love you with every fiber of my being.” You could hear the strain in his voice. 

That happened two fucking years ago. 

“It’s not fair.” You speak stopping in your tracks, a good distance away from the sleigh. Feeling his presence behind you, you let him reach out for you. His hand turning you to face him yet you faced the ground feeling like you lost a damn war, defeated and drained. 

“I know it’s not and I’m so incredibly sorry.” He sounded like he was begging for you. 

“Okay.”  you didn't know exactly what it was for, but you felt like it was needed. 

His hand came to rest on your cheek wiping a tear you didn’t know slip. His touch delicate against your face, tilting your head up he caught your lips against his. His lips were soft as you fell into sync. Tasting like cinnamon and peppermint. Pulling him closer you lost yourself within him, the feel, the smell, and the touch of him. 

Kissing him was like finally finding the last piece of your puzzle, the way both of you fit perfectly together amazed you. He tasted like heaven and heaven tasted like home. 

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

Felt like I could’ve added more, but its already long.

I hope you enjoyed this piece.

Also if ya made it to the end comment which Why Don’t We guy I should do next. 

[ladyloveandjustice]

The Westing Game Chapter 21

The Fourth Bomb

In a wacky misunderstanding, Theo thinks Alice is the bomber and tries to blackmail her with the info so he can borrow her bike (Yes, really. Go big or go home is Theo’s motto) but of course Alice thinks he means he knows ANGELA is the bomber.

And in what might be the most touching moment in the book so far, Alice responds to this by setting off a bomb and writing a thing indicating that she is the bomber in order to throw all suspicion off Angela. She eve loses her trademark braid in the process.

It really is incredibly sweet. Alice is very caustic toward her sister, but this isn’t the first time she’s indicated she’s ride-or-die when it comes down to it (she got rid of the evidence for Angela and warned her not to say anything to the lawyer), and it’s also a very lovely response to Angela’s early sacrifice- where she took the bomb she made to her face rather than have it explode to her sisters. But while Angela’s sacrifice was spur-of-the-moment motivated by guilt and panic as well as love (not that it makes it less meaningful), Alice’s is one she planned out and considered. She had time to consider the consequences. She knew that Angela willingly put herself in this position. But she still chose to take the fall anyway, and set off a bomb after seeing what the same thing did to her sister’s face.

She already feels meaningless to her family in general, and maybe on the surface she feels her standing (with her mother in particular) can’t get any lower. “I’m already the troublemaker, I’m already the unwanted one, I have nothing to lose, but Angela would lose everything” was how she convinced herself. (in addition to being aware as a minor she wouldn’t be punished as harshly, smart girl that she is).

But it’s also clear that Alice DOES long for her mother’s love and approval, and I think she also had to contend with a deep fear that after this action, there’d be no going back for them, that she’d doomed herself to be the ‘bad one’ forever. Yet she still did it.

And the loss of her braid is of course, incredibly significant. Angela said earlier that the braid is her “crutch”- she bases a lot of her personality around it. It was her excuse to spend time with her mother and now her excuse to spend time with Flora, it’s the trademark thing people can pull on and she can then she gets excuse to kick them and get in fights and form connections, it’s how she gets attention and relationships for herself without exposing her own vulnerability. But she sacrificed what little that makes her stand out, what little social currency she has to protect the same sister who she envies for being in the spotlight- because that bond is more important than her jealousy and her need for attention. Just like her sister sacrificed one of the things that bring her adulation- her looks- to protect her. Love is more important than those petty things.

Alice is forced to talk to Judge Ford afterwards and, sharp as ever, Ford guesses that she’s protecting Angela.  This quote especially gets me:

The judge was astounded (…). Angela could not be the bomber, that sweet, pretty thing. Thing? Is that how she regarded the young woman, as a thing? And what had she ever said to her except “I hear you’re getting married, Angela” or “You’re so pretty, Angela”. Had anyone ever asked about her ideas, her hopes, her plans? If I had been treated like that, I’d have used dynamite, not fireworks; no, I would have just walked and kept on going. But Angela was different.

There’s a fascinating theme in this book about being marginalized, and the different ways these marginalized people both are pitted against each other and can overlook even each other while also finding connections and comradery with each other… I think I’ll have to wait until the end to fully get my thesis on the whole thing together, but I really find it interesting and appreciate it. Ford’s struggles as a black woman, Alice being overlooked for not performing femininity (thus envious of Angela despite knowing how shitty she has it), Angela being boxed because everyone wants to mold her as the perfect feminine ideal (thus feeling envious of Alice despite knowing how shitty she has it), Sun feeling out of place as a Chinese immigrant, Hoo knowing he’s looked down upon as a Chinese-American (yet still not considering the pain of his own wife), Chris struggling as a disabled kid, many people who are financially disadvantaged and/or feeling limited to the role of caretaker, Sydelle feeling overlooked in general and appropriating others’ struggles in her bizarre quest to get noticed- it’s all very interesting and pretty deftly handled, especially considering the time period the book was written in. 

And our antagonist is quintessential exploitative Rich White Man (obsessed with American Exceptionalism to boot), though it’s casually mentioned he’s the son of immigrants, an identity he seems to have actively shed, going so far as to change his name (if that’s why he changed it), so there’s even complexity there.

But the thing with Ford here is an interesting demonstration of that. Despite being smart and socially aware and having an even more fraught history of being dismissed and belittled, she didn’t give much thought to Angela and subconsciously went along with the same objectification everyone else does, putting her on a pedestal. (There’s a lot to be said about how Angela’s veneration and perceived “purity” by the others might interact with her whiteness, and how Ford realizing she bought into that narrative subconsciously might feel to her as a black woman, but I’m not really the person to discuss that. Anyway!)

The other important development here is that Alice also finally confesses that she saw Westing the night of his murder but mentions that the Westing she saw didn’t look dead, but asleep and like a wax dummy. This sets off alarm bells for both me and Ford.

So, I think its safe to say my earlier theory Sam Westing isn’t dead is probably true. What of the corpse that was present at the will-reading? I think people would have noticed it was a wax dummy, but a disguised corpse from his coroner friend still makes some sense. So where is Westing now? Considering Barney Northup doesn’t exist, could he be Barney?

But speaking of Westing, if we need further confirmation the man is the scum of the earth, he’s a union buster and he fired Sandy for trying to organize one in the paper plant.

We also learn Ford’s backstory with Westing at last: Her parents were household staff at Westing’s mansion and she grew up there as a result. She played chess with Westing frequently as a child, but not only would he brag and take pride in beating a goddamn pre-teen, he mocked her with racialized insults. She never won, but Westing ended up financing her education (that’s the ‘debt’ she owes him). She believes he did this to get a judge he could control, but has refused to play along, removing herself from any case involving him.

I can’t help but think Westing would have known Ford wouldn’t play ball, though. So he may have had another motive for sending her to school. It could be something even more sinister. Or… in his own twisted way, did he actually like her? He obviously realized she was incredibly intelligent during those matches, even if he sadistically enjoyed mocking her, enough to know she’d do well with an education. Did he play chess with her so much not just because he enjoyed tormenting her, but enjoyed her as a person as well? It obviously does not excuse what a racist sadistic shithead he is, and I’m not saying he’s secretly nice- just that it could be he was incapable of relating to anyone in a healthy way. I actually think sending Ford to school could have just been an extension of his desire to torment her AND the only way he knew that would guarantee he remained important in her life. He didn’t ever plan to cash in on her debt, but knew it would kill her just to BE in his debt, and got pleasure out of that alone. He probably just thought it was funny and it was also a way to guarantee he’d live in her head rent free- and because deep down he knew she was a cool kid, he also wanted that. He didn’t want her to forget him, maybe, which is sick! But much more interesting than simply “he wanted a judge he could manipulate”.

But it’s also worth noting this is Ford’s (perhaps) final chance to win against Westing in the ultimate chess match. And I can’t help but think he is well aware how smart she is, so he invited her here specifically because he knew she could be his undoing, the one who unravels everything. So- if we go with the ‘Westing is seeking atonement’ theory- did he invite her to give her that satisfaction of finally beating him, like he always knew deep down she could? Because he WANTS to be beaten, to be found out and knows she deserves to be the one after all the hell he put her through? Or in the ‘Westing is still a complete monster’ theory- is his intention to torment her one last time, to show her she can’t win against him? (if it is, I think he may well find he’s gravely mistaken there).

I don’t think Westing can truly achieve “redemption” with this “game”, nor am I one to easily believe the Ultimate Shitty Capitalist can change easily, but if one thing can shake someone’s worldview and make them reevaluate how they live their life, the death of their child WOULD be a big one. So “this will actually be Westing’s weird twisted attempt at atonement” is a possibility I just can’t stop thinking about. If it is, it’s kind of funny and incredible he can’t stop being manipulative and traumatizing even when he decides he wants to do something good.

On top of all that, Angela and Sydelle get more clues and finally figure out the ‘America the Beautiful’ connection. God, so much to chew on this chapter! I really fear for these last nine chapters. I might end up writing a novel longer than the actual novel analyzing and recapping them if I’m not careful. But that’s how you know it’s a compelling story, so hats off to Ellen Raskin!