#i originally thought it was going to relate to the one who waits but it never pays off at all???

[vilelittlecritter]

About half the reblogs are about 73 yards and I'm sorry to break it to you but I don't really like 73 yards that much..

No hate to the episode I thought it was cool as an idea but wasn't really well done in my opinion

Firm believer that doctor who should get fucked up and unnerving on the regular

[veinpursuer]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[redflagshipwriter]

Ghost Driver 3: Timterlude

masterpost

“Inspector.” Batman arrived at the police building bare minutes after the selfie of their current biggest suspect had blown up on twooter. Robin balanced on the edge of the rooftop, fingers gripping stone. Woo, safe. He mentally cheered. A quick glance around showed only one other person, and it wasn’t the white-haired meta they were looking for.

“No need, Batman,” Inspector Gordon said. He looked like he had a lot on his mind, Tim thought. Gordon started walking for the stairs. “There’s no trouble here. Joker is accounted for, the ghost kid left.” 

“Ghost?” Robin perked his head to the side. “Twooter guy is a ghost?” 

“The Joker was broken out of Arkham by the same suspect who sent that twoot.” Batman was a dog with a bone about it. “Robin. Can we track him down by that Twooter account?” 

“I can try,” Robin said, dubious. “You want me off patrol for that?” 

He didn’t really see the point. What were they looking for, a message draft where the guy listed his name and address? 

Batman grunted. 

That meant yes. Tim held in a sigh. That was him, off patrol again. Banished back to the cave about an hour after finally getting to go out because the Red Butthead was down for the count.

‘Worst after school job ever.’

“Right,” Gordon said vaguely. He pulled the door open. “Go home.” 

The door swung shut, muffling the sound of Batman’s answering grunt.

Robin followed his minder back to the Batmobile. He waited while Batman manhandled his bike out of the trunk and got it out. “See you at the cave,” he said, wishing Batman would say something nice like, ‘sure thing, Robin, I value your contributions.’

Pfft. As if. Tim sulked on his drive back to the cave, alone with the rushing wind and his thoughts. Batman was regressing lately. He was moody and insular again. It was outrageous. After all the work Tim had done to rehabilitate Batman, he was growling at people in public again! 

He needed a muzzle for that guy. It wouldn’t solve anything, but it would be massively embarrassing and-

“No, it might solve some of the Catwoman related inefficiencies. That bad kissing habit.” Tim kicked out the stand and left his bike in the entrance where Batman always told him not to leave it. He pulled off his gloves on his way to the big, battiest of all the bat computers, and slouched in Bruce’s chair. “Blegh.” Tim turned it on and navigated to twooter. He looked through “ThePhantomHunk”‘s account with a wrinkled nose. There wasn’t much there, but what there was… was honestly kind of embarrassing. There were four basically identical selfies and hundreds of low quality replies arguing with people about anything from whether or not Batman liked him to how good the latest video game installment in some ancient series was.

“Why’s he have all these followers?” Tim muttered. “He doesn’t post anything.” Phantom wasn’t a big celebrity by any means, but he had a few hundred followers that seemed like real people. He noted a really pretty Ivy League university cheerleader, a weatherman from someplace called Amity, and… a mayor???

Tim squinted. Why was Phantom being followed by the official Amity Park Mayoral twooter account? He opened it to double check that it wasn’t some unfunny impersonation. It appeared to be legitimate.

“New contender for origin,” Tim muttered, taking a note. He scanned bios for more references to Amity Park and started finding them. Wild. 

He closed that down and shot off a message to Oracle, telling her what he was up to. She sent back “HA”. 

“Very helpful,’” Tim muttered. He scowled all his way over to the bat beverages fridge and extracted a sports drink. 

That was when a brand new alarm went off. Tim startled so badly he nearly fell over. Then he rushed to disarm it before the ten second interval where the alert would be redirected to Batman’s comms. Once muted, he scrambled to see what it was. 

“That’s… depressing.” Tim bit his lower lip. It was a new alarm on the cemetery where Jason was interred. There was nothing visible on screen, but Batman’s equipment didn’t really give false alarms.

Was that why… had Bruce put that new security system up because someone had threatened his kid’s body? No wonder Bruce was out of sorts. Tim felt a little sick. He felt angry. The chair scraped across the floor when he got up. “I’ll handle it.” Tim muttered to himself as he pulled his gloves back on, checked his mask, and jogged to his ride. “Real quick.” 

This drive felt like nothing. The engine roaring underneath him revved him up into a righteous fury. If someone was messing around with Jason’s resting place, they were going to taste the soles of Robin’s boot.

The cemetery gate was still shut. Locked. Tim opened it and went in. Maybe no one was here. 

He stopped in his tracks. 

Or maybe there was a car parked somewhere impossible. How had anyone driven a car between the rows? Tim drove up in his motorcycle and came to a stop by the driver’s side door.

The driver looked up. White hair, tan skin, green eyes. He went still when he saw Robin and his face screwed up in confusion. He visibly said “huh!” out loud, and then shrugged. He waved through the window.

Tim raised his hand to wave back before he thought about what he was doing. He pulled the hand back down and scowled. “What are you-“

“So you’re like, haunting Jason?” the guy bulldozed over what he’d said. He kicked open his door and grinned. “So glad to see you! I know where one of his safe houses is, but he’s not there, and I can’t detect my way into a cereal box if I’m honest. Why’s he got a grave? I wasn’t sure this was the right guy but it’s clearly the right guy. Maybe my ghostdar is bad.” 

“….safe house?” Tim ignored most of the rambling and pointed at the grave. That’s where Jason was. It was grim, but that was where Jason was. And haunting? He wasn’t haunting Jason. He’d maybe sort of stalked him recreationally a little bit, but he’d gotten away with that. 

‘He said he was a ghost. What does he think is going on here?’

“Not here, I don’t think he spends time here.” Phantom’s eyebrows furrowed. “Gotta say I’m kinda surprised to discover he died. He’s so full of life, you know?” He shrugged.

Tim stared blankly. Jason was a tiny skeleton in a casket. 

“Anyway!” Phantom clapped his hands. “Don’t suppose you know where else he might be? The police guy said Batman kicked his butt, so he’s probably recovering somewhere. Where would he go for that?” 

A whole bunch of puzzle pieces slotted neatly into place with quiet clicks. Batman was out of sorts about the Red Hood and acting oddly in regards to Jason’s grave. He was as moody as he’d been after Jason died. 

And then, of course, what Phantom had said could hardly be categorized as subtle. 

‘Holy moly,’ Tim thought, ‘Jason faked his death and he is mad at Batman. Either that or he’s a ghost? I didn’t know he could do that. Could I do that? I need to see where this is going. And this guy is creepy… Is Jason safe? I need to make sure that he’s safe before I tell Batman anything.’

“Take me to the safe house that you know,” he said. “I can figure it out from there.” 

He was officially going undercover.

The guy held up the keys to his clunker and jingled them. “Hop in, creepy Robin.” 

“Creepy?” Tim asked, offended. He got in anyway. What was creepy about him? Tim didn’t have cat pupils, unlike some other people.

‘He assumed I was haunting that grave. Does he think I’m a ghost? Does he know a Robin died?’

“No offense.” Phantom carelessly started the car and lifted it directly upwards. Tim grabbed the door handle. “Wheee.” 

Phantom drove like a maniac. Phantom belonged in prison. Tim held on for dear life and tried not to throw up. Why was the car even on? The wheels weren’t touching the ground. Phantom was clearly propelling it. Did he not realize he was doing that?

‘Maybe he likes the sound of the engine?’ Tim theorized. ‘Or maybe it’s just habit and he hasn’t thought it through. How long has he been dead, to still be doing that little mundane thing?’

The safe house where Jason had been staying was… well, it definitely looked like a safe house. The only pay dirt was a phone that had been abandoned on the kitchen counter. Tim snatched it up and immediately started running a geotag script. 

“Yeah, he left that this afternoon,” Phantom said. He sat cross cross in the air and watched Tim curiously. “This is a weird tactic. Don’t you just know where he goes?” 

“I haven’t stalked him for years,” Tim said, and then wished he hadn’t. 

Phantom laughed. “Okay, damn.” He fidgeted. He was watching Tim too intensely. “Don’t wanna be rude, but you’ve got like, no ecto, dude.” He cocked his head to the side like that was a question. 

Tim didn’t know what ecto was. “Is that what you think?” He said, in his smuggest, most insufferable Robin tone.

Phantom rolled his eyes. His mouth twisted downwards. 

Shit. He might not have answered that well enough. Tim pretended to be absorbed in his task even though the tool he was using was running independently. 

His heart thudded in his chest as the program ran. He licked his lips. Was this going to turn to a fight? Tension started to rise. Was it really? Was it just in his head?

Beep.

“I have some possibilities for safehouses.” Tim held up the phone. “Here, on James Ave, I bet that’s where he went after his confrontation with Batman.”

There was a long pause. Phantom’s eyes glinted in an animalian, predatorial glint. It sent a shudder through Tim. He felt like he was in danger-

“Neat!” Phantom chirped. The spell was broken. “Let’s go.”

He couldn’t help but feel that he had dodged a bullet. Tim kept a hand near his toolbelt as he followed Phantom back to the car. 

The guy didn’t attack, for what that was worth. Tim buckled himself in and wished that he was in the backseat. He itched to get out of Phantom’s line of sight. If Jason really was down for the count after a confrontation between Batman and the Joker, Tim couldn’t leave him at the mercy of this guy. Phantom had released the Joker. The only thing in his favor was that Inspector Gordon hadn’t said he was a danger. 

Phantom rocketed off. They passed through downtown Gotham in a queasy rush of color, backlit by the growing daylight. This was way too late for Robin to be out in Gotham. He shouldn’t be here. 

…Batman was going to realize that he wasn’t in the cave. Very soon. Tim angled his body away from Phantom and tried to surreptitiously write a message on his wrist watch. “Done for the night,” Tim lied. 

Boy, he hoped that he didn’t end up in some kind of trouble. Batman was not going to notice him missing for a long time, if he believed that message. 

He crossed his fingers.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (7/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, manipulation (partly unintentional), violent description of suicide attempt (blood), injection of a sleeping drug, violence, imprisoning, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He could have become a father.

Could was the key word in his life: he could do a lot of things theoretically, but for the most part the line between what was accessible to him and what was not was clearly drawn.

He couldn't escape the world that was consuming him.

He couldn't change who he was.

He couldn't marry his niece, at least in the light of social morality.

But he could become the father of her child because she hadn't taken the pill.

This news thrilled him so much that for a moment he forgot that his own father was dead.

And the complications that came with it.

Looking at his body in the morgue, he thought that perhaps a good thing had happened: Viserys looked sick and tired, his face expressing relief.

He was with his first wife now, the one he really loved, he thought with regret, and felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing his niece's face in his mind then, as she laid beneath him, panting loudly, seared, warm and wet only for him.

He grunted, shifting from foot to foot, recognising that he shouldn't be thinking about it right now.

Only Rhaenyra, Helaena and his mother wept over his body.

Neither he nor Aegon shed a single tear.

The next day he felt excited like a small child and terrified at the same time: it was the first time he was to see the University from the inside, to talk to the professor and on top of that, to see her, again.

If it worked out, they would study together.

Perhaps they would even go on excavations, just like when they were children.

Maybe there was some part of their lives that they could get back.

He texted her that he would come and was relieved when he spotted her silhouette waiting for him in the car park. As soon as he stepped out of the car he felt uncertainty and fear, wondering if this was a good idea.

What if his grandfather found out?

If he was putting her and himself in danger?

He involuntarily reached into the pocket of his jacket, wanting to soothe himself with a cigarette.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said, furrowing her brow, making his hand drop in a gesture of helplessness and impatience.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She sighed, ignoring his tone and demeanour, moving ahead.

He had to admit that the whole campus impressed him: the lawns and the huge park around which the gigantic nineteenth-century brick building towered were full of students sitting on the grass, reading books and talking to each other.

They had no worries except their exams, he thought regretfully, concluding that they didn't even know how lucky they were.

The conversation with the professor was overwhelming for him: he had never been able to find himself talking to strangers, even less so when he couldn't leave or defend himself when he heard a difficult question.

The man sitting in front of him was not a man transporting cocaine by ship, but an old man with big glasses who was telling him that if he were able to participate in the excavations, part-time studies would be possible for him.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." Said the professor and stood up, nodding, letting them know that their meeting was over.

"Is that it?" He asked in disbelief, looking at her with big eyes, wondering if it was a joke, but she only smiled.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

As they left, he felt discomfort at the thought that he didn't know how to act. He guessed that he had interrupted her class and should leave, but that meant there was no telling when he would see her again.

He wanted to simply spend some time with her, but he didn't know how.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He said offhandedly, glancing at the poster hanging on the wall right next to him, hiding his hands in his trousers so she wouldn't see them tremble.

She blinked and looked at him, surprised.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She muttered quietly, as if embarrassed. He felt an unpleasant sting of disappointment at her words and in a subconscious reflex he wanted to hurt her because of it, if only a little, to be sure she felt what he felt.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He asked with a sneer, glancing at her, but the smirk disappeared from his face when he noticed the way she looked at him.

She was angry and bored.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes." She said coldly, and he froze, thinking he was an awful person.

How could he forget about it, say something so ill-considered after what had happened to her?

He suddenly realised how it worked in his mind, how he reacted involuntarily to pain wanting to automatically cause it to another person, even if they didn't deserve it.

This thought terrified him.

Some part of him wanted to make it up to her, to prove that there was a part of him that wanted to change.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He asked, feigning indifference, involuntarily scratching his chin, unable to look her in the face.

"Larys Strong."

He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

He looked at her, feeling how slowly a picture that seemed to him to be just scattered shards suddenly came together, the fact that Larys had dragged her there was never supposed to be an accident, and his grandfather knew about it.

This is the last time you interfere in their affairs.

They hoped she'd call for Daemon.

That, knowing his explosive nature, there would be a shootout in which they would kill her step-father before Viserys died, so that he and his half-sister's businesses could then be easily taken over.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed out, feeling that he was breathing heavily through his mouth, that his hands were clenched into fists, that his heart was pounding like mad.

Only after a moment did he realise that his niece was looking at him with big eyes, horrified that what was happening in his mind had not escaped her attention.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said, making him feel a squeeze in his heart for some reason.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He mouthed, realising only after a moment that he sounded like a little boy. She shook her head, as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?"

He watched as she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, praying that she would agree, that she would not abandon him, that she would not leave him in the dark room that was his heart.

His little lamp.

Yes, he thought, feeling a pleasant, gentle warmth in his chest.

That's what she was to him.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She decided at last, distraught and tired, making him swallow loudly with relief as he looked down at her.

He wanted to touch her.

He wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, but it seemed inappropriate.

Not after what he'd done to her.

"Can I touch your hand?" He asked in a trembling voice, feeling like an idiot, a weak, quivering child begging for a moment's attention, a moment's tenderness.

She looked at him in a way from which his throat tightened with affection, her hand extended towards him made him grasp it in his own.

He watched, breathing hard, elated as his fingers entwined with hers in a pleasant, soft embrace, her skin warm, smooth and soft, exactly as he remembered it.

He felt both moved and aroused at the same time by this sight, by the feeling of her bare body in a way that was not purely sexual, yet so intimate, private, reserved only for someone close to her.

"Walk me out." He whispered.

To his delight, she didn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. He couldn't find the words to say goodbye or thank her for what she'd done, feeling only shame, so he just got in the car and drove away.

He knew it was wrong.

He knew it was wrong and he couldn't stop.

The forbidden fruit tempts most, he remembered her words and swallowed hard, driving ahead in silence, wondering if that was indeed all this was about.

The thought that maybe not terrified him, because it meant that there would be no moment in his life when he could let her go, allowing her to live at last.

It meant that he would devour her, choke her in his own darkness.

The next day, everyone was nervous: the meeting with the notary was going to be groundbreaking. Otto was certain that Viserys had divided his wealth equally between each of his children, which would mean that Rhaenyra's share would also belong to Daemon.

"I don't think he would leave his daughter the brothels or the clubs where the crimes took place to avoid burdening her. This means that a real estate company and our money laundering business could fall to her. We will have to make steps to take it over, peacefully or not." Said his grandfather when he spotted him standing by his car alone having a cigarette.

He nodded, feeling discomfort and uncertainty, not knowing what he should answer.

"You are not yourself since the death of your father. What's happening to you?" Otto asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, making him press his lips together in displeasure.

Another fucking interrogation?

"I'm tired." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette impatiently, looking at his family home, wondering if his father would take it away from his mother.

"Where were you the night he died? When Aegon woke up, you were not in the room."

He froze in mid-motion, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble, his heart and stomach clenched in fear.

He couldn't remember if he had ever felt peace.

Maybe then, that night, when he felt the warmth of her body and fell asleep beside her, drunk and happy, he thought with regret.

"With my niece."

Otto laughed low, shaking his head.

"This is no time for jokes, Aemond. I don't want you to hide anything from me." He said slowly and calmly, as if trying to explain something to a small child.

He looked at him in a way from which his grandfather's expression changed, twisting in a grimace of shock and disbelief.

"Good God. What did you do to her?" He mouthed.

He grinned involuntarily at his question in a way from which Otto swallowed hard and clenched his eyes.

"Have you completely lost your mind? What has that poor girl done to you, hm? What if she tells her parents, accuses you in front of everyone? For God's sake, you're her uncle." He hissed quietly, stepping close to him and looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear him.

For some reason his dismay, his disgust, his disappointment gave him satisfaction.

The fact that he was arousing such feelings in him and other people seemed to him the most natural state he knew.

"We were just talking. About the past and the future." He lied, knowing that his grandfather didn't believe him, that he'd seen in his gaze what he'd done to her, what he'd done to her twice, and how fucking pleasurable it had been for him.

He decided that he wouldn't try to explain to him that she had peaked with him each time.

He wouldn't believe him anyway.

"We'll talk later." He hissed as his mother, Helaena and Aegon came out of their house, saying they were ready.

When they arrived Daemon and Rhaenyra were already waiting for them inside in a large, spacious office with windows overlooking the great city skyline. The notary greeted them, offered them coffee and tea, and then showed them to their seats.

He tried not to look at Daemon, feeling his gaze on him, knowing what he thought of him and that he had every right to do so.

He felt bad about it, but fuck, he wanted to be close to her and have a family with her.

He wanted to be able to love her.

Just her, just this one time in his life.

Was he asking for so much?

The notary, in the presence of the lawyers of both parties, unsealed the envelope in which was secured his father's last will, which he knew he had consulted with his grandfather.

Nevertheless, he felt anxious, felt the cold sweat on his back, a complete, tense silence all around them.

And then he began to read.

"I, Viserys Targaryen, present my last will as follows. I bequeath our family home to my wife, Alicent Targaryen, which will belong to her until her death, and then pass according to her will to one of our children. I bequeath all my other estates and properties to my children Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron to be shared equally between them. All of my investments and all premises under my business that I owned I pass to my daughter, Rhaenyra."

He stared at him dully, feeling as if he had gone completely deaf, his heart beginning to pound like mad as his hand clenched into a fist, his grandfather beside him twisting in his chair, shocked.

"This is some kind of misunderstanding." Otto said, on the other side Daemon laughed out loud, hiding his face with his hands.

He mocked them, he thought.

His father had mocked them for the last time.

He didn't understand why he felt tears burning under his eyelids, why his lips were trembling, why he expected anything else.

His appreciation, his trust, a gesture that would indicate that he understood what he was doing to ensure the well-being of their family.

Did he really think that he was taking money out of people by force, that he was cutting their faces to please his grandfather?

Yet it meant nothing.

Everything he did, everything he became apparently only made his father disgusted.

Because he was disgusting.

They all were.

"Unbelievable. We're not going to leave it like that. I'm sure this is Daemon's doing. FUCK!" Growled his grandfather, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, slapping his palms against the dashboard of his car.

He drove ahead, feeling a complete emptiness, feeling neither disappointment nor anger, wondering if he should pull over and hit one of the trees.

He wanted his father to see him as a cold, unbreakable man, one who would always defend his and his family's interests, one who could make sacrifices.

And he didn't even notice it.

All the wicked things he did turned out to be worthless.

He destroyed himself for nothing.

He had nothing.

In his mind, in his heart, in his wallet.

A fucking property by the sea.

"We will attack their family. If our clients find out, no one in the industry will care about us. We have to show strength, we have to act." Otto said, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

We will attack their family.

We have to act.

His grandfather called a meeting in his office, which was to be attended by him, his brother and his mother. He paced around the room gesticulating, speaking quickly, Aegon as well as his mother sat in their seats flooded with tears.

He thought they looked pathetic.

"We need to give him a warning. Force him to come out with another, more acceptable offer for us." Said Otto, circling the room with his hands placed on his hips, analysing everything.

"You saw him. He laughed. He knows that he won." Mumbled Aegon, all swollen from crying.

Otto stopped and pressed his lips together.

"Leave me and Aemond alone." He said finally, making him freeze, his heart pounding like crazy.

Some premonition told him what he would want from him even before it left his mouth.

He was not mistaken, and as soon as his mother and brother left, his grandfather began to speak.

"Does Rhaenyra's daughter trust you?"

He stared dully ahead, answering him with a protracted, uncomfortable silence, feeling like throwing up for some reason.

"Aemond."

"No."

"No, what?"

"Don't drag her into this."

His grandfather pressed his lips together, leaning over him, resting his hands on his armrests.

"She's been dragged into this for a long time. If we don't take our chances, someone else will." He said calmly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.

"You knew."

"What?"

"That Larys had plans for her."

"I knew that he would act. Daemon's presence on the scene isn't to his liking."

"He put a fucking rape pill into her drink." He said coldly, clenching his hands into fists.

"It wasn't about rape there, at least that's my opinion. However, now, if he sends his people to her University, I cannot vouch for what will happen to her. With us she will be safe. We would lock her in a room in our house for a few days and treat her with respect as if she were our guest. My issue is with Daemon and Rhaenyra, not with her. Her harm is not my desire."

He looked at him, feeling a void in his mind, no longer knowing for himself what he thought of this, what was right and what was not.

"Are you going to let everything you've worked so hard for be taken away from you? For this man to laugh in our faces? What are we to use to maintain the estates your father left you? Even if we sell some of it, how many years will it last? We have to think about our future. I trust you to do the right thing."

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, thinking with disbelief that if he didn't, the part of himself that he had lost, that he had killed to become who he was, would turn out to be a sacrifice in vain.

Some part of him naively wanted to believe that she would understand.

"Only me and Helaena will have access to her room. I will be by her side the entire time, and my duties for that period will be taken over by someone else."

Otto smiled in a way from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy."

He looked at his phone, at the message he'd sent her while sitting in his car two streets from her house, wondering how he could be doing this to her.

She wanted to help him change, she made an attempt.

Perhaps she was pregnant.

Hundreds of feelings mixed in his head, fear, grief, disgust, sadness, hatred and despair devoured him from the inside, forming one black mass from his thoughts.

She's not coming, he thought with a strange calmness.

She was not naive.

Daemon had certainly warned her not to trust them.

He'll return home and tell his grandfather that it just didn't work out.

But what will happen to them then?

They will have nothing to buy new goods with, or they will buy them, but they will have to raise their prices.

They will stop being competitive in the business.

They will lose customers.

They will go out of the game.

They will cease to count.

They will have no way to pay the police.

They will go to prison.

He shuddered, hearing rustling and someone's footsteps, his eyes big when he saw her breathless, flushed figure, her dark, loose hair in disarray.

She looked so beautiful.

He opened the door, unable to believe that she'd run away for him, just for him, watching as she pulled her backpack down quickly and handed it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but he only looked at her lips, parted in accelerated breath, soft and full.

He thought with horror that he wanted to feel her.

He wanted to be reassured.

He wanted to make love to her.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

Her gaze full of warmth, affection and trust, her parted lips, her hand that allowed him to pull her closer made him feel like his cock would explode with desire.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He praised her when she sat on his lap at last, closing the door behind her. He slided his hands to his belt, panting hard, releasing his fat, long erection, leaking with desire at the mere sight of her.

He could only watch in disbelief as she took off her shorts, wordlessly allowing her to guide the thick, glistening head of his manhood against her slit, all pulsing with heat, slowly sinking it into her body.

He gasped at the ease with which she welcomed him into her warm, moist interior, how simple and proper it seemed.

It made him forget for a moment who he was and what he was supposed to do.

All that mattered was her, her face, her eyes, her forehead pressed against his, her warm buttocks under his fingers, her swollen, sweet lips, her slick tongue invading between his teeth, her little cunt that convulsed around his throbbing cock in ecstasy.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, unable to express otherwise how good she made him feel, why his hips were pounding into her so fast and so greedily, why he couldn't slow down, why he wanted it so desperately.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, making him gasp, pleasant, tickling warmth in his lower abdomen.

Her soaked pussy squeezed and sucked him inside, making him pant loudly into her puffy lips, feeling his whole body grow hot, in some subconscious, natural reflex returning to where he felt good, where he felt safe: back deep, deep inside her.

He knew it wasn't just about sex: there was too much tenderness in in their movements, the touch of their hands too thoughtful and too gentle, too soft, their embrace too close, too intimate, their moans too helpless, too vulnerable.

"– Aemond –" She mewled into his throat on the brink of orgasm, bringing her clenching, moist, fleshy walls to the point where he felt a squeeze in his testicles, indicating that he was close too.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, listening to what he was doing to her, to his own niece, how loudly her sweet, little cunt clicked as he rooted into her again and again, how perfect she squeezed his cock, how warm she was, how wet she was, for him, only for him.

"– where? –" He muttered, wanting to be more responsible this time, slamming into her with a quick, sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, helplessly chasing his own fulfillment that he so desperately needed.

He didn't want to hurt her.

Never.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She breathed out and something in her words, in the way she said them made his body quiver as he reached his peak inside her, panting hard along with her. He gasped, resting his head against the backrest, trying to be quiet, feeling their bodies pulsate and shiver against each other.

He snuggled her face to his neck, feeling a wonderful pleasure and relief as his warm seed filled her insides at last, her scent, her closeness, her hot, pulsing interior calming him.

It felt so good.

So right.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, stroking her bare buttock with one hand, sliding the other between the seat and the gearbox, feeling the needle syringe under his fingers, from which he slipped the cap.

I'm sorry.

He heard her draw in a loud breath at his words, but he didn't let her answer.

He was afraid he would change his mind then.

"– forgive me –" He mumbled in trembling voice, heartbroken, her body tensed all over as he jabbed the needle into her neck and let the sleeping drug spread through her insides.

She whined quietly, terrified and surprised, reminding him of a small, innocent animal. He embraced her, feeling the remedy take effect after a moment, and her body relaxed in his embrace, a faint, weak cry escaping from her lips.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl –" He hushed her tenderly, feeling his whole body tremble as tears of shame, disgust and regret ran down his cheeks along with the knowledge of what he had just done to her, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

He used her because she trusted him, because she wanted to help him, because she really cared about him.

He sobbed quietly, closing his eyes, and cuddled his face against her neck, feeling her fall asleep, thinking that he wanted to take it back, that it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, that he just wanted her to forgive him.

Maybe he could carry her home?

Leave her at the gate and run away?

But what if someone found her unconscious, what if she fell ill from the cold, what if someone abused her in his absence, hurt her?

He realised that there was no way back.

Despite this realisation, he treated her body with gentleness and tenderness: he lifted her and slid out of her slowly, placing her shorts over her hips, laying her on the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. He took the unruly strands of hair from her face with his trembling hand, looking at her through tears, whooping with his own cry.

He thought she would never forgive him for this.

When he got home he went inside through the back door, carrying her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He told his bodyguards that no one was to disturb him, ordering them to inform his grandfather that everything was sorted out.

"Aemond?" He heard his mother's voice behind him and stopped in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder with big eyes.

His mother was looking at him with her mouth open, disbelief and horror in her gaze.

"– Aemond – what is she doing here? –" She muttered, placing her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down, breathing loudly as if she were going into some kind of panic attack.

"– we'll sort it out, Mum – don't worry –" He whispered. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– you kidnapped an innocent child –" She said with regret and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

She was disgusted with him.

He understood her.

He longed for her to think of him like that.

He desired to suffer.

"– yes –"

He took her to the room where he had spent his entire youth until he moved into his flat and laid her gently on his bed, sitting down beside her, covering her carefully with the duvet. His hand rose slowly and hesitantly to finally stroke her soft hair, her face calm, immersed in deep sleep.

Vhagar, whom he had taken with him from his place, rose from the floor and ran up to them, sniffing him and the newcomer he had laid in his bed.

"– good girl – you will watch over her with me now, hm? –" He asked, stroking her soft fur.

Vhagar squealed, shifting from paw to paw beside him, concerned, as if she sensed that her sleeping state was not natural, something in her scent, in the drug he had given her made his dog restless.

Even she knew what he had done to her, he thought with regret.

He pulled off his shoes and placed them on the ground, laying down beside his niece, putting his arm around her. He pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply her scent, letting his fingers run over the soft skin of her cheek, thinking that he was surely doing this for the last time in his life.

He felt a sting in his heart at that thought, his eyebrows arched in pain as he pressed her body against his, weaving his hand into her hair, burying her head in his neck, trying to calm himself.

"– I will always watch over you –"

In the morning he was awakened by her babbling: she was mumbling something under her breath, her hand clenched on the material of his black Tshirt, he could feel her trying to stand.

"– shhh – lie down – don't get up –" He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling only horror, only despair, only shame.

She would never forgive him for this.

"– where – mghmm –" She muttered, involuntarily falling into his arms again, recognising him and his scent, her fingers closed on his back, snuggling into him in a tender embrace from which he felt his body begin to quiver.

"– easy – easy, little one –" He said, kissing the top of her head again and again, her hair wonderfully soft and smooth under his hand.

"– what's happened? –" She asked, and he remained silent, as he had no idea what to answer her.

His lack of words clearly worried her, for she raised herself on her arm again: she looked around, her gaze hazy, dreamy, her brow furrowed as she did not recognise where she was.

"– Aemond – what's going on? –" She asked wearily, slowly understanding that something was wrong, her breathing louder and heavier, her eyes large and filled with fear.

He lifted himself onto his arm, moving closer to her, his free hand stroking her cheek as he pressed his forehead to her temple.

"– forgive me –" He whispered in a weak, trembling voice, thinking he sounded pathetic.

She sucked in a deep breath and squealed, covering her mouth with her hand as if trying to stop the sound, her eyelids clenched shut as she cried out loud, bursting into tears.

"– oh, baby –" He muttered pleadingly, kissing her red, plump cheek, embracing her tightly despite her hands trying to push him away. "– it will only last a few days, I promise –"

She pulled out of his embrace, moving away to the other end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes, catching her head with her hands as if she couldn't believe what was happening, her mouth parted wide in a heavy, terrified breath.

"– I – I let you – you touched me, and then you – oh God – oh my God, no no no no no no –" She whimpered hiding her head between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to create a fortress, and he could only sit and watch, trying to remember that he needed to breathe.

"– we just need to talk to Daemon – I promise no one will hurt you –" He muttered quickly, but it seemed to him that she wasn't listening to him, plunged into complete hysteria.

"– I helped you – I ran away for you – I brought you books just as you asked – so why did you do this to me? –" She mumbled out, choking on her own tears, her fingers clenched on her hair as if she wanted to rip it out.

He felt like he was drowning, like he was sinking deeper and deeper to the depths with every breath.

"– I know – I know, baby, I'm so sorry – but my father left us no choice – fuck, I know you understand me –" He choked out with difficulty, looking at her hopefully, for some reason naively believing that she would find justification in her heart for his horrible act.

She, however, looked at him dully and froze, her trembling hands raised at the level of her cheeks, her lips parted in a half-breath.

He was sure that she was going to say something, that she was going to shout in his face that she hated him, that he was a monster, a nobody, a disgusting creature, everything that he so needed to hear in order to find himself in the state to which he always returned in the end.

She, however, turned her back to him, hugging her body and face to the wall, tucking her legs under her chin and froze so still.

"– Rhaenys? – please – please, say something – I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear –" He mumbled, trying to touch her calf, but she flinched and moved further away from him, as if his touch had burned her.

He burst into sobs, thinking that her silence, her wordless rejection was worse than any word from her, and he was like a child who longed for the parent he had failed to look at him with a sympathetic eye again.

"– please – please, say something –"

But she said nothing.

For the next few days she did not look at him, she did not answer his questions, and when he tried to touch her she moved as far away as possible, hiding her head between her knees.

He took away her phone out of fear that she would try to contact someone and all the things out of his room that she could use to hurt herself or others.

She ate and drank only the things Helaena brought her.

When he tried to feed her, she would snatch things from his hand and throw them at the wall.

On the one hand he felt rage at that moment, a subconscious need to hurt and punish her, and on the other he felt relieved because he wanted to suffer, because he knew he deserved it.

"– you have to eat –" He sighed, looking indifferently at the big stain of soup on the wall and the shards of the broken bowl thinking it was them.

Like the shards that couldn't be put back together again.

"– what did it feel like, cutting their faces? – did you feel like the Mighty Vhagar then? –"

Her voice, cold and harsh surprised him and made his heart stand in his throat, his body stop breathing for a moment, as if expressing its desire to die of shame.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling that he was trembling, and met her gaze, sad, tired, aloof, embittered.

"– I had no choice –"

Lie.

"– you are lying –" She stated dispassionately. "– I don't want to see or hear you – I want you to pretend that you don't exist, just like you did with me for eight years – you're good at it –"

He lowered his gaze, feeling a complete void in his mind at her words, and got out of bed, kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl as if nothing had happened.

The only being she touched was Vhagar.

He watched from the sidelines as these two slowly established a relationship with each other. His niece would reach out to her, lying on his bed, and his dog would lean out and sniff her from afar without touching her, looking at her with big eyes.

Vhagar did not like strangers and was fussy, but apparently her calm approach and the fact that she did not impose herself on her made his dog express interest in her. When she would get up to reach for one of his books on the shelf, Vhagar would rise and follow her, keeping an appropriate distance, looking at her curiously.

She would lie down in her place only when his niece sat back down on the bed.

He first saw them lying together when he came home late one evening. He had shopped for her, bought her favourite sweets knowing that she would not eat them anyway, and when he walked into the room he saw her lying with Vhagar on her dog bed.

She was crying and cuddling into her fur as if she was a big teddy bear, and his dog, despite the fact that she usually got up at the sight of him, just looked at him with big eyes, not moving from her place.

Something about the sight broke him, and although he knelt down next to his niece and wanted to touch her back, he stopped mid-motion when he heard his dog growl at him for the first time in his life.

She knew.

Daemon and Rhaenyra's fury was great: the very next morning after it turned out that she had disappeared there had been an incident at one of their clubs, where his sister's husband had stormed in with her son and several men, threatening to shoot everyone present if he did not find out where his daughter was.

As planned, it was relayed to him that their child was safe and that Otto was waiting for contact from him when he had cooled down to discuss everything calmly.

As proof that they were not lying, they gave him her backpack – the same one in which she had brought him books.

Due to what happened, after his father's body was burned, there was only a short funeral ceremony in the cemetery, attended only by his mother and sister: his grandfather was afraid that Daemon's men, who had been watching them all the time, would lead to a shooting if they appeared there even for a moment.

Despite his niece's reluctance, he spent his days in her presence, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the room where he slept at night. He knew she didn't want to feel him next to her, but he preferred not to leave her alone knowing how frightened she was.

He suggested several times that they could go out together for a walk in the garden, but she didn't even look at him.

She was simultaneously closer and further away from him than ever before.

One night he was roused from sleep by someone's scream: he pulled himself up on the mattress, involuntarily reaching for the penknife in his sweatpants and looked around the room, only after a moment noticing her shivering figure sitting on his bed.

He sighed quietly and swallowed hard, trying to calm himself.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" He whispered, and she twitched at his words, turning towards him, looking at him with big eyes, all drenched in tears.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He muttered, but she answered nothing, her lips parted in a heavy breath, her fingers clenched on the sheets.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered, rising slowly from his seat, tentatively approaching the bed. She raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture and moved away a little, but when he sat down next to her and raised his arm she didn't push him away.

Slowly he placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin reassuringly, with the other cuddling her face into his neck.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –"

She was silent, and he prayed that this moment, her warm body in his embrace, his nose snuggled into her soft, fragrant hair, would last forever.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out finally, startling him, his stomach knotted tight in discomfort and horror.

"– no – don't say that – it won't take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, forcing himself to be calm, stroking her shoulder and back with one hand, the other combing his fingers through her hair, rocking her in his arms like a small child.

"– you broke my heart –"

Her words, the way she said them, what they meant made him gasp aloud, trying not to burst into a sudden sob of despair and grief.

He had broken her.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, tentatively kissing her warm temple, her cheekbone, her ear, everything that was familiar to him, beloved to him, his.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

"– I don't believe you –"

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, feeling a sort of high-pitched, trembling squeal come from his throat as if he were a little girl, tears one by one began to run down his cheeks to the top of her head, his fingers tightening on her delicate flesh.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, sinking his face into her soft, warm cheek, feeling that he was not the only one who was crying.

Her body trembled in the embrace of his arms, her small hands clenched on his shirt in a gesture that testified at once to her anger and her suffering from which his heart was breaking.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She howled into the skin of his neck, and he burst out sobbing at her words, not knowing how he could react differently to what she had said.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, cuddling her tightly into him, placing loud, wet, hot kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck, her arms, leaving sticky, wet marks on it.

He heard her sigh full of pain and pleasure, feeling with shame that his erection swelled all over and hardened, pulsing painfully under the material of his sweatpants, betraying how much he longed for her, how much he yearned for her.

Her quiet moan surged through the skin of his neck as his broad hand slipped lower, sliding tentatively under the material of her shirt, touching her naked back at last, her bare skin, making them both tremble, breathing heavier and louder.

"– I love you –" He assured her, running his fingertips over the wonderfully smooth skin of her back, making goosebumps appear in the places he ran his fingers over. Her body snuggled into him tighter, allowing him to feel her breasts hidden under her tshirt against his chest.

"– you hurt me –" She sobbed through her tears in a breaking voice, at which his lips clung even harder to her shoulder, his kisses even more greedy and wet as his lips again and again brushed and teased the delicate structure of her skin.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, feeling lust and desire pulsing through every nook and cranny of his body, filling his lower abdomen with a pleasurable, tickling tension from which his heart pounded like mad.

He moaned helplessly when he finally felt her warm, puffy lips brush his neck, her cheeks wet from tears as his hand pressed her closer.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He mumbled out, wanting only to feel her again, without her being just an empty part of an incomplete whole.

However, as his hand tentatively slid from her back to her buttock, she pulled away from him suddenly as if burned, hugging her back to the wall and shook her head.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out loudly, looking at him with big, terrified eyes. He shook his head, heartbroken, leaning down, placing quick, warm kisses on her bare knee, stroking her calf with his palm.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She blurted out, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly. He swallowed hard and shook his head again, shocked, understanding how far her lack of trust went and who she now saw him as.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like his whole face had swollen from tears.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out and turned her back to him, hugging herself to the wall again exactly as she did then, the first time, making him whimper, choking on his own tears. He pressed his face against her back, wailing loudly, his fingers clenched on her waist.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined like an animal into her shirt and heard her weep loudly, but she answered him nothing.

However, she did not push him away or tell him to step back, so he fell asleep cuddled into her body, and the next day she again did not speak to him or look at him as if this conversation had never happened.

In her presence he cried all the time and didn't even hide it anymore.

Looking at her, he saw exactly as if in the reflection of a mirror who he had become and what he had sacrificed.

However, it turned out that his grandfather was partly right in his assumptions: Daemon just wanted to kill them all, but his wife didn't feel like risking her daughter's life for a fortune and was willing to talk to them if they let her see her.

"– tomorrow you will go with us to meet your parents – perhaps we will come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, swallowing hard, standing over her small figure sitting on the sill of his window, looking out at the setting sun.

Her profile was gentle and pleasant, her eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes large and bright, her lips seemed wonderfully soft, full and sweet, made only to be caressed.

She closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, and did not even bestow a single glance on him.

He prepared himself for the fact that she would answer him nothing and wanted to sit down on the mattress, going back to reading one of the textbooks she had brought him, but he froze when he heard her voice.

"I'd like to take a bath." She said.

He swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Of course. I'll call Helaena." He replied, wanting to go out into the corridor.

They never left her alone.

For her own safety.

"No." She said and looked at him.

"I want ten minutes alone."

He looked at her, feeling anxiety and doubt in his heart, but he couldn't say no to her.

"Very well. I'll wait by the door."

She nodded and stood up, taking the towel that belonged to her from the chair and went outside. He followed her, walking towards the bathroom next to his room – she looked at him with frustration as he took the key out of the lock and shook his head.

"No. I won't come inside, but I won't let you lock yourself in." He said. She swallowed hard and nodded, and he closed the door behind her.

He leaned against the stair railing, hearing the sound of pouring water, and looked at his watch, sighing heavily.

Ten minutes, no more.

He heard her step into the bath and closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps this was just another ordeal they had to wait through together.

He wanted to believe that she had seen his sadness, shame and remorse, that by his behaviour and calmness he had proved to her that he was capable of being different, for her, only for her.

However, ten minutes passed, then eleven, and she still did not come out of the water.

He didn't want to invade her privacy and make her uncomfortable, but he felt impatient and became concerned that he didn't hear any movement in the room. He walked closer and knocked, sighing heavily.

"– Rhaenys – time's up –" He said matter-of-factly. He pressed his lips together when he heard no sound on the other side and knocked a second time, louder this time.

"– Rhaenys – please –" He sighed, running his hand over his face, deciding that whether she wanted it or not, he had to do it.

"– I'm coming inside – cover yourself –" He said, grabbing the door handle and stepped into the room.

It seemed to him that what he saw before him was some kind of frame from a film, not reality: the snow-white tiles around her head and dark hair, her half-open eyelids and mouth, her hands lying on the edge of the tub, her slit wrists and the crimson water in which she lay, his sister's T-shirt on her body.

He looked down and saw a tiny blade from a bookbinding knife lying on the floor.

For a moment he just stared at it, afraid to move, thinking it wasn't really happening.

"– Rhaenys? –" He muttered, approaching her slowly, but she didn't even flinch, staring ahead as if she was thoughts somewhere far away.

"– Rhaenys, what have you done? –" He mumbled as if he was afraid that if he said the words too loudly they would turn out to be true, and yet it could not be true.

"– God, baby – oh my fucking God –" He whined, pulling her by the shoulders out of the water with a loud splash of red liquid that spilled out.

He sat down on the floor, placing her between his legs, letting her head and back rest against his chest, his fingers tightening on her wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"– baby, what have you done? – hm? – what have you done? –" He whispered to her ear in a trembling voice, kissing her soft, warm face, feeling the initial shock begin to be replaced by a growing panic and the realisation that this was really happening.

He began to breathe loudly, as he always did when he was terrified and when he needed help calling out to the only person he trusted.

"– MUM! – MUM, HELP ME! –" He shouted like a helpless, broken child and burst into tears, clasping his fingers tighter on her wrists, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"– oh God, oh God, oh, God, no, no no no, please, baby, please, please, don't leave me –" He whimpered, rocking her in his arms, cradling her to himself, again and again kissing her bare shoulder, her long neck, her sweet cheek.

He heard someone run up the stairs, the screams of his mother and sister at the sight they saw before their eyes made him look at them.

"– Mum –"

Even though he knew his grandfather would be furious, he and his mother called the ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, she provisionally bandaged her hands together with Helaena, as well as dressed her in a clean shirt and underwear.

He did not let her out of his arms for a second, and when the ambulance arrived he told his mother that he would go with her.

He looked at her as he sat in the car, feeling his hands were sticky with her blood, thinking it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

She just wanted to run away, she just wanted to go home, but she didn't know how.

He made her do this.

When they arrived at the hospital it turned out that her condition was critical: because of how little she had eaten she had become anaemic and needed a quick blood transfusion.

"– take mine –" He said without thinking, and when the doctor asked him what blood type he had, it turned out that he and she had the same.

He could have done something that mattered.

He could have saved her.

He held her hand, lying on the bed beside him, staring dully at the ceiling, the other clenched again and again on the soft ball as he watched his blood fill the plastic bag.

When the doctor came inside, he asked him about what he had been thinking about for a long time.

"– there's – there's a possibility she's pregnant – and –" He mumbled, not knowing how to put it into words. The man looked at him, surprised.

"– she's definitely not pregnant – the tests didn't show it –" The doctor replied, and he swallowed hard, feeling for some reason a great disappointment and sadness.

If he became the father of her child, he could be a part of her life.

He would have an excuse to talk to her, to see her.

He tightened his fingers around hers, stroking her soft skin with his thumb, trying not to cry, thinking he deserved it.

What child would want to be born into such a world?

When it was all over he informed the doctors who they should contact, giving them his half-sister's phone number. Before he left the room, he handed her back her phone and slipped a letter into her locker, which he wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper with a pen the nurse had lent him.

For his own conscience he waited in the distance, watching as Daemon's Mercedes pulled into the car park, he and Rhaenyra ran inside the building without noticing him. He sighed heavily and licked his lower lip, glancing at his phone, seeing twenty missed calls from his grandfather. He dialled his number and put the phone to his ear, feeling strangely calm and relaxed.

"She's alive?" He heard Otto's voice on the other end.

"Yes." He replied dispassionately.

"Thank God. Why didn't you call for me? You ruined everything. Our doctor would have taken care of it. You…" He continued, but he hung up, not feeling like listening to his smart-ass bullshit.

His mother picked him up from the hospital.

"How is she? Will she survive? Have you contacted Rhaenyra?" She asked quickly as they set off, afraid that anyone would notice them.

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, looking at the road with empty eyes.

"I gave her contact details to the hospital staff. They arrived, I saw it with my own eyes. She's safe now." He explained.

His mother breathed out loud, her big brown eyes simultaneously terrified and full of relief.

"You did the right thing, Aemond. No money is worth it. This poor girl." She muttered, shaking her head, trying not to cry and concentrate on driving.

"I destroyed her."

Alicent looked at him, then back at the road, her mouth open slightly in an accelerated breath.

"What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his brow arch in pain and shame.

"I went to her room the night my father died. We had sex, Mum." He muttered in a breaking voice, covering his face with his hand and burst out crying like a little boy.

His mother sighed loudly, shocked, twisting restlessly in her seat.

"– but – why – did she – did she want this? –" She asked in a trembling voice full of terror, indicating that she really believed he might have raped her.

He was not surprised.

"– yes – but I don't think that makes it look any better –" He mumbled, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, leaning his head forward.

"– we did it twice – and then a third time before I –" He didn't finish and cried out loudly, making his mother breathe heavily as if she was in the same state as him.

"– oh my God – oh my God, Aemond, what have you done – she's your niece –" She choked out finally.

"– I know, Mum –" He mumbled, running his fingers over his face, thinking he already understood where her desire to end her life and this perpetual sense of unfulfillment and emptiness came from.

"– me too – I'm no saint either –" She muttered finally, looking up at him with big eyes. "– me and Criston –"

He swallowed hard and shook his head, recognising that it wasn't the same.

"– I know, Mum – you won't hear a word of condemnation from me –"

His mother drew a loud breath and wept, as if she felt both relieved and sad at the same time.

"– nor will you hear them from me, son – since you both wanted it, it was simply a mistake of youth – you are both lost and have sought comfort – but it must not happen again – do you understand? – for your sake and hers –" She said with confidence and conviction that this was the best possible decision.

"– I keep thinking about her – since that holiday eight years ago – I've tried, but I can't stop –" He choked out at last, wiping his red cheek, feeling as if he were ten years old again, complaining to her that someone had beaten him up at school.

Alicent ran her hand over her face before placing her palm over his.

"– sometimes – sometimes we have to leave certain things to ourselves – the shameful desires of our hearts – and fulfil them when no one sees – do you understand? –" She asked in a trembling voice, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

"It is not love itself that is sin –" She said finally. "– but what we do with it."

[vivmaek]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PART EIGHT (positive vibes only <3)

This was originally going to be another roast. But tbh, my heart has been feeling heavy the past few months. I'm sure some of you can relate, especially with all the events currently occurring in our world. So, I decided to focus on what I love most about certain placements in an effort to spread a little positivity.

✿ Aries Moons stand up and fight for the people they care about. They won’t let their friends be belittled within their presence, they have your back. They’re the first to speak out on injustice and will take action to make things right. 

❀ People who have Gemini in the 8th house ask questions that matter. They invoke deep thoughts within other people and are unafraid to explore topics that are uncomfortable or taboo. 

✿ Those who have a Moon Sextile Venus aspect know how to make others feel loved. They pay attention to their loved ones, and give each and every one of them the special attention that they deserve. These people are relationship builders. 

❀ Libra Venus, how does it feel to be god's favorite? These types invoke good feelings in other people. They’re so sweet and have hearts of gold. Good friends and romantic companionships are easy for them to find because their affection comes from a place of authenticity. 

✿ People with Saturn in the 7th house wait for what's right for them. They take their commitments seriously and don’t play around with people's feelings. They respect their romantic partners. Their firm boundaries lead to successful relationships. 

❀ Walking earth angels have a Sun trine Neptune aspect. They have a divine presence and they don’t get tied up within their own ego. People look to them for spiritual guidance. They uplift the souls of others. 

✿ Aquarius Mercurys aren’t afraid to evoke controversy. Sometimes this is needed in the world. If there's an elephant in the room, they’ll point out the obvious. They formulate their own unique thoughts, and are not easily influenced. 

❀ People who have their Moon placed within the 4th house know how to make a home. As someone who was raised by a person with this placement, I truly reaped the benefits of this. They keep family traditions alive, or even start new ones. They understand the importance of family and act as the glue that holds everything together. 

✿ Those who have a Uranus trine Ascendant aspect make life more interesting. Without them, the world would be a boring place. There is no one like them, and they cannot be replaced. Their quirky nature is endearing. They are such a breath of fresh air. 

❀ Taurus Mercurys are so level headed that it has a calming effect upon the people who surround them. They take things slow and are not quick to jump to conclusions. Within group projects or endeavors, they are at the heart of it. People can depend on them. 

✿ People who have Uranus in the 10th house prove to others that you can lead an unconventional life and still find success. They don’t follow the rules, and don’t rely on tradition for stability. They inspire others through their free spirit. 

❀ When someone has a Venus sextile Saturn aspect within their birth chart, they make relationships that last a lifetime. These people are loyal friends and they know how to maintain the longevity of a relationship. They show up for people when needed and they never make a promise that they can’t keep. 

✿ People with a Gemini Venus teach other people how to have fun within relationships. They love innocently and there are no strings attached. They make their friends and loved ones feel like a kid again when in their presence. Their lighthearted approach to love is comedic, they live life as if it were a rom-com. 

❀ Cancer 1st housers are quiet leaders. They approach life with a healthy level of confidence. As a leader, they still treat their subordinates with the respect they deserve. They don’t forget about the little people, and are attentive to people who are struggling. 

✿ A Saturn trine Neptune aspect allows the native to grow significantly when faced with opposition and challenge. They understand the importance of spiritual lessons, and go out of their way to right their wrongs. They don’t lose sight of what they’re working towards, and won’t lose their sense of morality once they achieve success. 

❀ Libra Moons remind people how important it is to incorporate pleasure into life. Working hard means nothing if you don’t stop and appreciate the benefits you’ve gained. Having an appreciation for the little things doesn't mean they’re materialistic. 

✿ Uranus 7th houses maintain independence within relationships and don’t lose sight of who they are. They are not going to change who they are just so a relationship can function. They march to the beat of their own drum, you can dance to the music or move along. 

❀ People with a Mercury trine Ascendant aspect bring humor into this world. Of course, they’re incredibly smart and their academic skills are impressive. However, they still don’t take themselves too seriously and are full of witty remarks. They share the best memes and are always in the know. 

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

“Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[greenfiend]

Mike and Will’s love will save Hawkins

Everything, and I mean everything has been leading up to this point.

Let me explain how the power of gay love will save the day…

#doorgate or #gategate

🚪🍑❤️ + 🔑🍆⚡️

TW: mentions of sex and brief mention of CSA

If you’d like to read this with a soundtrack:

So it’s been a while since I made posts about Lover’s Lake… and to be honest I thought aspects of my theory were kind of silly (but of course who cares this is just for fun). But now I’m back and more confident than ever that Lover’s Lake will be an incredibly important location for ST5, especially for Mike and Will.

To begin, let’s start with the physics set up within the show. Why physics you say? We are talking about the love of two gay nerds afterall (one of them named after a famous theoretical physicist)… of course physics is involved!

Way back in season 1, Mr. Clarke helpfully taught us how to create a doorway between two worlds. This doorway would require a massive amount of energy… “more than humans are currently capable of creating”. I appreciate the subtle hint of a possibility that one day humans could create that level of energy.

In season 2 we have Steve helpfully explain to us this alternate electricity exists. He also related it to a storm and then distinguished it from a regular electromagnetic field.

Now, interestingly enough within the book titled The Montauk Project: Experiments in Time (the conspiracy which inspired Stranger Things so much that it was originally titled Montauk), there is a mention of this type of energy as well:

“Reich was known in part for his discovery of “orgone” energy, which is orgasmic or life energy. His experiments revealed orgone energy to be distinctly different from ordinary electromagnetic energy.”

So to sum it up so far, we have learned:

1. In order to create a doorway, a massive amount of energy is required.

2. There’s an alternate form of energy known as “orgone” energy “like a sexual electricity”.

Okay. Now unto season 3…

So, season 3 had the Russians attempt to “open the gate”/door once again after it was closed back in season 2.

Back in 1984, the Russians manage to get the door slightly open but it keeps closing. The Russian working on the project begs for “more time”, shortly after (like right after the opening credits) we hear the line “just a little more time could open closing doors” from the song playing while shown a picture of Mike. Later on, we have Will claim he’s “not going to fall in love” and then the song plays “love that is new to you, you open up the door”.

We also get this association for Mike. Mike is the one who could open closing doors, in other words he is "the key".

Okay wait lets go back to the science here!

The Russians have "the key" which is said to "emit a great energy" so much so that it can "open a doorway between worlds". Alexei also mentions how the location of where the key goes matters, it is "half of the equation". They chose Hawkins because, the gate has already opened there. (I talk more about the implications of that here). In case you haven't figured it out yet, Mike is "the key", and Hawkins = Will (remember, Hawkins is not the same without him).

Mr. Clarke is back again with some more science! In this scene, he actually associates an Electromagnetic Field with two people! Implying that two people can create their own Electromagnetic Field. But of course Clarke-Byers' field is stable because there is no sexual electricity between them.

So…

We have Mike referred to as "the key". The key can create a doorway with the right location. Hawkins is the right location and Will is implied to be “Hawkins”.

Two people can create their own Electromagnetic Field.

Okay wow, are you guys still with me here?

These friends are indeed electric…

The very first one was way back in season 2. Mike placed his hand on top of Will’s and right after we cut to Will’s drawing. Look closely… there’s lightning! ⚡️ It’s “sexual electricity”!

In season 3, the electricity only grew between but simultaneously so did the subtlety of it all. They held hands in the movie theatre. Yes yes they did! That’s why we are shown a movie playing with hands popping out! This is what “triggered” Will (manifesting as a reminder of the shadow monster…). But most importantly… this is how the power went back on in Hawkins.

In season 4, it’s arguably even more subtle… but the clues are still present! Mike and Will lock eyes while the electricity flickers. Then we have the final scene which shows us a cloud resembling a heart above them with lightning! Heart with lightning… keep this in mind for later. We also have a very tiny “Live Mike” poster on Mike’s bulletin board… the association with Mike and lightning/electricity is clear…

Even in the marketing, the lightning is very much present. Notice specifically the lightning with the heart in the first picture…

Doors that keep closing…

The show constantly makes references to closing/opening doors. The gates opening are an aspect of this too! I have good reason to believe that this all leads back to Will.

I go over the door symbolism in this post but I’ll give a brief summary:

So far each time the gates have opened within the show, they have opened without Will’s consent. Now, I mean this on multiple levels. I mean this as the closet door- as people keep opening it by insinuating his sexuality. I also mean this in a more deeply tragic way. Child sexual abuse… to be blunt. This is why he’s desperate to keep all the doors and gates shut… even if it kills him. It’s a reality that forever haunts him, worse than any monster imaginable.

Will has such deep trauma that it manifests as monsters within the show. This is why I believe Will has been struggling far more than we are shown explicitly. In case you’re unaware, during the 80s and prior, there was a deeply homophobic belief perpetrated by society that gay people (specifically gay men) were predators. As a victim, Will is terrified of becoming a predator… becoming “the monster”. He’s frightened of himself.

I believe that… Will has been “pushing [Mike] away” far more than we know. He is desperately in love with Mike, yes, but the hatred he has for himself is far greater at this point in the show.

He needs to learn to love and accept himself despite all that he has been through. He needs to know that he is not a monster, and that his love and sexuality can be a beautiful thing. He needs to do this independently of Mike. Mike will be the key to his door when he’s ready.

To sum up everything thus far: doorways/gates require A LOT of energy, sexual electricity is a form of energy, and Will is associated with doors and Mike with keys. Got it?

The Russian Code

You may have already seen my post on this but it’s *very* relevant here so I’ll summarize (read the post for more depth):

The week is long because Mike and Will will be separated. Emotions affect time afterall.

The silver cat feeds the “silver cat” is a gate/doorway. Mike and Will are both associated with being a “snack” because they feed it sexual electricity thus causing it to open!

When blue meets yellow in the west. Mike will be stuck in the “East”/the UD, then return to the “West”/right side up to meet Will.

A trip to China sounds nice, if you tread lightly. “China” is on the other side of the “silver cat” doorway. Mike and Will will reach a new world through this doorway.

Again, if you think I’m reaching, please check out this post as I outline the clues in much more depth.

Opening multiple doors

As mentioned earlier, Mike is the key to opening Will’s door. This has multiple meanings:

Figuratively: Will’s closet door. Mike is struggling with his sexuality as well, but he will likely accept himself first, and inspire Will to follow.

Sexually: Will will open himself up sexually to Mike. They will have an intimate scene. I’m positive of this now.

Supernaturally: A portal door/gate to another world.

He’s truly the key to his heart…

What I theorize will happen…

So based on all the clues I’ve outlined (plus more) I will break down how everything will likely happen (leading up to the climax):

Mike confronts Will about the painting. Now, I truly believe Mike already knows that the painting and speech was all Will. He knows Will well. Will downplays the significance of the painting though making us (the audience) believe that he’s not actually still in love with Mike. (This could be why Noah now views Will’s love for Mike as a spoiler 🤔).

Will continues to push Mike away but more explicitly. Mike is frustrated. Tensions are high! Mike is “banished” to the UD, as well as nearly half of our main cast. They reunite with Max.

Will is devastated that Mike is gone. Will then faces severe homophobia and cruel accusations made his way (likely connected to those who went missing). Without Mike, he falls apart. The insecurities around his sexuality reach a boiling point for him. This will be represented by the US military closing off all the gates, separating half of our main characters from each other.

Will finds a letter from Mike. We (the audience) will realize (if we are paying attention) that Mike loves Will through the reveal of the “Love, Mike” written at the end. Will will not realize/believe it, but he is given the courage to fight on.

Will spends time with his mother and friends who express to him how much they love him unconditionally. As he starts to slowly accept himself, the gates slowly show signs of opening up.

After a long week of separation, on one fateful stormy night, Mike finds a way to escape the UD through watergate and Will is there to retrieve him. Will is likely not alone, he’s with the “right side up” crew on a boat trying to save those in the UD. Only Mike is able to get through the gate… (possibly through radio communication with Will, they create enough electricity for the gate to open).

Mike and Will are soaking wet and Mike is injured, thus he and Will make their way to Reefer Rick’s Lakeside House. They have to remove their shirts, and the sexual tension is through the roof. Will tends to his wounds and sparks fly. Mike reveals just how deeply in love he is with Will and how much it pains him that Will has been so closed off. Will turns away- not wanting to hear it at first, thinking he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve Mike’s love.

Tears start pouring down Mike’s face as he continues to tell Will that he’s done with hiding, and he’s done with pretending that he isn’t in love with Will. Will stops, finally starting to believe Mike’s words. Mike, thinking that his words still aren’t getting through to Will, turns and starts walking away. Will calls Mike’s name, Mike swiftly turns his head. He says “I love you too” while in tears, walking towards Mike. He then kisses him ever so passionately! Mike is taken aback with wide eyes for a brief moment then is quick to shut his eyes, grab onto Will for dear life and reciprocates the kiss very enthusiastically. They go horizontal on the bed, Mike on top.

While they are making love enough sexual energy is created for thunder to erupt and lightning. One giant lightning strike hits right in the centre of Lover’s Lake into watergate and opening it up completely! The (heart shaped) lake is literally a broken heart resuscitated by electricity. The water from the lake is parted right in the middle (think Moses parting the sea… or perhaps… like a surfer boy?) making it possible for everyone to walk out easily from the gate. It opens it up SO much that everyone trapped there escapes. They’re all freed!

The sun rises, the storm clears, and of course- there’s a giant rainbow. Will and Mike wake up and smile more brightly than ever as they recall the events of the night prior. They walk out hand in hand and head towards the end of the rainbow. They find a new gate hidden behind watergate and descent into it together. It’s fairyland. They then agree to start their own party, just the two of them.

Fairyland/Feywild

Credit to @byler-alarmist and their post for bringing my attention to this very likely possibility.

The Feywild was a place of unrestrained and awe-inspiring natural beauty. The plane is always bathed in twilight of the setting (or perhaps rising) sun, with lanterns and fireflies providing additional, haunting lights. Visitors to the plane found that all sensations, both sensory and emotional, were heightened. Smells were stronger, colors were more vivid, and sounds were clearer, but at the same time shadows were darker and impulses were harder to control. x

Feywild is a location in DnD just like Shadowfell (which likely represents the UD).

What better way to represent love and acceptance than a beautiful green realm full of light? I assume that it will resemble the real world, just like the UD. I’m also guessing that Mike and Will will find the remnants of the old Creel house and rebuild it as their own castle/fortress. (Credit to @thestrangestthing89 for this beautiful idea.)

Rewriting History

After WWII, the alliance between the East (USSR) and West (US, England etc) dissolved and then began The Cold War. Leading to Russia and the US essentially becoming enemies. They viewed each other as a major threat to their safety. They also were in major competition with each other, specifically regarding space exploration. Each nation wanting to be the first to reach the Moon.

Germany was a nation that ended up being “split” into the East and West. The Berlin Wall divided the two sections. The song “Heroes” by David Bowie is about lovers separated by the Berlin Wall. In 1989, the wall fell and Germany was no longer divided.

Where am I getting at with this? Well, I believe that Stranger Things is both majorly referencing this conflict, and rewriting history. Let me explain. I think that the scenes with the Russians are representative of Mike’s struggles. He feels as though he has no choice but to conform- not unlike those who live under communism. We see he is slowly escaping this mindset, however, as we watch some of the Russian characters rebel against their government.

Yes that means- the US government represents Will’s struggles. They view El as a monster that needs to be contained/removed. This is exactly how they viewed gay people during the AIDS crisis. We see resistance there as well though… through Owens.

In Stranger Things, the gates are the Berlin Wall. Once they open up again (properly… with Will’s consent), the division between the nations will cease. The war will come to an end.

Instead of one nation “winning” the space race, Stranger Things will end with both “Russia” and “America” reaching a new world together- as Mike and Will.

All you need is love

This is the whole message of the show. So many times we let fear and hatred take over us but we must always remember… we can choose love. In a world full of division, we can choose inclusion. We can choose to extend understanding and patience to others who are different or who may hold differing beliefs. It’s all up to you. You hold the power. It’s your choice. Choose wisely.

[dimalry]

Second you in loving depressed, dark circle, chronic insomniac Azriel with demonic possession undertones. I feel like often he’s portrayed as very soft uwu baby or dark daddy dom when really he’s a workaholic grouchy introvert with a fucked up sleep schedule.

Do you think he has any connections to Hel in the larger Maasverse? I’ve had a theory for a while that he’s a descendant of one of the princes which would explain how he ended up with Truth-Teller.

Anyway, just want you to know that I picture your version of both Az and Gwyn when I write in canon, so thanks for the inspo!

Yes, absolutely! Though I’ve never thought of what kind of connection Azriel might have to Hel until now. Your ask got me to think…

What if Shadowsingers, rare as they are, were actually created by one of the Princes of Hel? I wish Truth-Teller wasn’t Gwydion’s twin, but rather a long-forgotten weapon once wielded by a long-dead Prince of Hel. Azriel could have discovered it eons later, feeling a strange connection to it, as it was the very weapon responsible for birthing his kind.

(Excuse my poor attempt at drawing shadow- soldiers/beasts. This is basically what I had in mind. This too)

Let’s say Shadowsingers were once a single shadow entity. But over time they split, with shadows becoming just one part of a person rather than their whole form.

A good number of them remain in Hel, but they've transformed into strange, nasty creatures. In Prythian, there are hardly any left, and Azriel may be the last. There are a few in Throne of Glass and Crescent City worlds, but they differ from Azriel.

It is very difficult to find any information about Shadowsingers. No one knows where they come from or how they came to be.

Who gave them the title 'Shadowsinger' anyway? What if it was simply a fitting name given by a mad scholar who first encountered someone with dark, shadow powers? What if these soldiers originally had a different name, given to them by the long-dead Prince of Hel?

And let’s give Shadowsingers the ability to shapeshift. I’ve always found it strange that Azriel is considered the best spymaster in the world, yet everyone knows he’s the Night Court's spymaster, which defeats the whole purpose of being a spy. It’s like imagining a Russian spy working in an American office, and everyone there knows he's a Russian spy. (Lol)

But what if Azriel could change his identity through his shadows? That would truly make him the best spymaster. He wouldn’t need to go through the trouble of creating fake identities; he could simply turn himself into one of Beron’s personal guards. People might know who the Night Court’s spymaster is, but they’d never know when or who he’s pretending to be. Additionally, he could winnow through his shadows instead of using the typical method. By commanding his shadows, he could transport himself anywhere, making him even more powerful than Rhys in terms of winnowing. He wouldn’t need to pause for breath like Rhys; he could take 10 people with him effortlessly.

Connect that to the shadow soldiers from Hel. They used to transform into whatever they liked (like this) and winnow with ease, which is why the war went on for like forever. The prince’s army was incredibly difficult to take down.

Shadowsingers still speak the language of Hel to this day. Azriel uses it to communicate with his shadows, and only Shadowsingers can understand this language—no one else. They don’t even have to learn it.

Okay, wait—can we consider that the winning side was the mother, leading her own army? That Gwydion was wielded against the Prince of Hel? Thus, the Maas universe was forged from the remnants of that eternal war ages ago.

And while Gwyn isn’t related to the sword like Azriel is to the dagger, nor to the soldiers who fought for the mother, as a priestess who worships her, she does have that little connection.

It would be quite amusing for the Fates to pair a descendant of those Hel creatures with a priestess who worships the Mother as mates.

Good god, I somehow pulled this out of my ass. Now I have to incorporate that idea into my story cause it‘s kind of awesome.

Anyway, I’d Iove to read your fic. It makes me happy to know that people use my art as inspiration 🥹

thank you for the ask! Have a lovely day 💕

[lonelymoonbeams]

Sophia lore (because no one talks about her enough)

Sophia is actually canonically Turkish! The grandma in Vertin's head spent a whole trace comparing her to a rug, specifically a kilim, which is a Turkish rug that's known for being very fine, lightweight, and having unique patterns due to being handmade. She's probably from Anatolia, aka Asia Minor.

Her mom was in the hospital for a long time when she was little, and Sophia and Hugh (her dad) would go visit her.

Whenever Sophia finished her studies as a kid, Hugh would give her a candy. She saved them in a jar in order to buy flowers for her mom, although I'm not exactly sure how candies pay for flowers. A trade, maybe?

Also as a kid, Sophia had a habit of calling people's names twice. No relevance. I just thought it was cute.

Sophia used to get up early in order to collect sand from the beach. She used it to polish glass since she wanted to make her dad glasses. Oddly specific skill for a child to know, but hey.

Sophia was the one who introduced 37 to fruits in yoghurt. She learned it elsewhere before coming to Apeiron. She was also the one who gave 6 his metal crown- it was originally going to be a fabric hat until 37 got involved and they made it a metal triangle. Fortunately, 210 intervened and made it wearable.

Sophia worked with 37 on calculating for the return of their ship, likely in the position of Corrector. Both of them were on the shore waiting for it, and both saw their parents get reversed, only to wash up as geometric shapes.

Sophia's nervous habit has always been pulling her hair.

She can get very emotional when answering questions. However, she's always quick to backtrack as soon as she realizes.

Sophia is actually described as very smart. Despite being an outsider, she was faster than many of the others on Apeiron. However, it was never noticed because 37 would always be the one on top.

Girl has such self-esteem issues. Stop. Please. Why are you like this *head in hands*

Sonetto is someone she can relate to. They both are exceptional students and arcanists who will never be better than their childhood friend. They'd probably be friends, in another time.

The reason why she's the Corrector is because no one else wants to do it, since they see it as having to do with the world of matters.

Possibly the funniest- Hofmann has seen Sophia's baby/childhood picture, but they've never met each other.

[luna-loveboop]

Wait...

It's November. It's November first. Yesterday was October 31st, so October is over. ...it's over. Is it over?

Inktober, artober, whumptober, flufftober, linktober, every tag ending with -tober that's been circulating for the past month... is it over? I don't know why it's just hit me but...

This matters. So I will try to get the message across, even though I'm not the best at it sometimes

Fanartists, fan writers, artists, fic writers, people making comics, every single one of you that has created art for the past month...

Thank you

This is my first October on tumblr. When I started seeing the "tober" tags, seeing the posts from artists with wips, saying they were going to make something every day to a prompt, making masterposts to update with each day, I thought "cool"

But every day this month, I have gotten on here and smiled.

And I don't mean smiled. I mean I smiled at least 20 times every time I got on the app because I saw all the art and fics. I got to see artists/writers connect stories through different day prompts. I saw people having the most brilliant ideas and creativity, flowing from their hands into their posts. I saw artists responding to continuous asks, telling them how amazing they are. I saw artists getting behind, and keeping going.

I saw Free. Beautiful. Emotional. Amazing. Original. Creative. Art.

Every day

I haven't committed to anything of this before, so I can't directly relate to what you guys were thinking and feeling. But I'm willing to guess; I think you probably enjoyed it, because most won't do such a huge project unless they enjoy it. I think you probably saw it as a challenge you were willing to fulfill, and an opportunity to grow and develop your skills.

... but I'm also willing to bet you did it for us. For people like me, who love art, but don't do this specific type, who are in fandoms, who love tracking and watching you art and sending you compliments, who take joy in your work. For the other artists (and writers!) who admire each others styles and love to learn from each other.

If anyone ever tries to tell me that humans are inherently evil again, I will strap them to a chair, pull up these posts and say look. Look at what these people did. Look me in the eyes and tell me these sorts of actions don't come from the most loving hearts. Tell me these people don't want to make others happy, that they aren't inherently good. And I will tell you you're wrong.

I have so much going on, yet somehow it slipped into my life that I was constantly looking at your art for the joy of it without me even noticing.

And how is it possible. That we have such a beautiful community of people here that we will share. And communicate. And exchange compliments. And literally do things and send asks solely for the purpose of making someone smile.

I'm almost crying by now. God I can't express it well enough! But I am so. So. Grateful

You guys brought me a month of joy! You gave headcanons, and art, and stories!

Even yesterday, Halloween, I was blown away. Because I had expected... I didn't expect anything. And then I log on and see people sending happy halloween asks, exchanging doodles of candy, and headcanons and gifs.

And some are still catching up to the schedule or whatever, and that's ok! But at the beginning of this post, when I was simply realizing it was November, I asked myself "is it over?"

Is it over?

... I don't think so. I've seen artists say they're going to continue and expand on a piece they made and especially liked this month. Some people are still continuing, catching up to a voluntary deadline. All those masterposts with your whump/fluff/link/ink tober art? I know many as well as myself will be going through, looking over your posts with smiles, catching up on some things they missed this month... it will continue in the people and artists I didn't know existed before, but now follow. In the skills and growth in creativity! In the community we've grown, and art you've made, and the art to come, at a normal rate like every other month, even if it's not October anymore!

But my artists, writers... thank you so much. I don't know if you guys know how valuable and amazing you are. How incredible it is that you exist! People say it's amazing we exist under a sky of such stars, but how incredible is it that you made a stranger on the internet smile every day! Your life is so. So. Valuable. I can't even express how grateful I am that you exist, that you somehow are selfless enough to share the most beautiful parts of yourself simply to create, and to create joy. Thank you so so much.

(And this applies to all artists, in any fandoms, not just mine. And I'm just as grateful to people who couldn't do something every day, or only one day! You still share your art, you're just as... incredible. You are incredible.)

Okay.

So I'm gonna do this, and if others want to do it in the reblogs that's great! I do not care at all about reblogging or likes, but I want to make the people that have brought me such joy some appreciation- I hope I can bring you even a smidgen of the light you have brought into my life. So I'm gonna tag all the artists/writers I know of/can think of that have done any sort of October challenge, all of you creators that have made me smile. If people wanna want to tag others in the reblogs or replies to spread love that's cool.

(Basically I don't know social customs or anything at all, so if you don't want me to tag or if I was supposed to do something different or something let me know I have no idea what I'm supposed to do)(if I like accidentally tagged someone who isn't an artist/writer or forgot someone I follow... sorry)

@skyward-floored @kikker-oma @adrift-in-thyme @blueskittlesart @zeldaseyebrows @smilesrobotlover @bahbahhh @soso-dedeck @lennsart @arecaceae175 @illcamp @breannasfluff @solarfire-art @26kabeuchi @cathianemelian @truffeart @scribbly-z-raid @uniquevoidflowers

To all the artists and writers out there: thank you so much!!! You are amazing and I'm glad you exist. Your life is precious, and you matter. Thank you so much for sharing your beauty with us, we love you too!!!!!

... yeah. Just want yall to feel loved... because you are. Again, thank you. Thank you so so much to my beautiful creators who create joy as well as art, who keep storytelling alive. Just... thank you.

:)

[donutz]

Yandere Smiling Critters x male child reader[pt. 2]

Requests from Tumblr and Wattpad—!, but not really

(Minus the fact I didn't include you being turned)

—☆You are a human in this

Sadly, you couldn’t stay here forever.

You are home now. Adopted. You did spend your time at Playcare for a couple of years though, everybody knew you, everybody in Playcare that is. The critters and kids knew you, the staff knew you, Miss Delight knew you.

So you had a mark on the place when it was time for you to leave. To get your own house. You were happy to get a home, but sad you had to leave your friends behind.

Maybe you could revisit this place again. Come back. But you couldn’t.

Something happened.

8/8/1995

You don’t know what happened that day, but you guess it was something pretty bad. It caused the whole company to shut down. You no longer saw any commercials of the toys.

Rumors were spread around, maybe somebody died, maybe a toy hurt somebody, maybe.. Maybe an experiment happened.

Anyways. There was a letter. A letter in the mail, something that related to your old home. Find the flower?

.

.

.

Sure. Why not, you were seventeen, you can handle yourself.

Which is something you shouldn’t have ever thought, after what you’ve been through.

It’s been scary. You haven’t died yet, but death has wanted to shake your hand a few times.

You almost bumped your head on a metal pipe while passing through a dark hallway, nearly broke your leg because you wanted to jump off a platform, wanting things to go by faster.

You’ve been chased through vents, and ended up at a dead end. You didn’t know what to do. You almost got shredded. But, were spared.

“.. Huggy?” He stared at you, maybe he recognizes you, even after all these years.

He didn’t kill you. He let you down on the second level of the metal stairways with his arm, and went back to where he originally was.

Then you were solving puzzles, with a particular doll following after you.

But the doll got snatched up, by a spider. Mommy Long Legs. She did remember you, you were the one who wasn’t so good at the games..(for the sake of your life in this story)

But she thought you left her to die, so she still forced you to play the three games. The first game has Bunzo! He was hesitant to kill you, you were the kindest kid to him when you lived here.

And for the first time, you actually beat the game! He was so proud of you! He wasn’t proud of his unfortunate fate in the future, but at least he didn’t need to kill you.

Then the small Huggies. They also remembered you, so they were sparing you. You also beat that game! They were happy, letting out tiny purrs at your success.

Then Pj— Wait. Since when were you so good at these games? The last I checked, you failed every single one of them! Fine. I’ll just sabotage the game for you, to make sure you never leave.

You could see Pj coming out of his pug-a-pillar hole, and you were sweating a little. Hopefully he remembered you too.

He did, once he saw you he stopped in his crawling tracks, taking a pause. He missed your younger adorable face when he gave you a small bump on your back, signifying that the ‘game’ was over.

But he unpaused at the start of the music playing.

You escaped. Out of there. That’s fine. I could just chase you myself

Three chases. You got chased THREE times. How desperate was she to kill you?!

You were putting the blue hand on the scanner, when you heard Mommy’s quick steps towards you.

You looked behind you— Eyes widening from her abrupt appearance. For the fourth time.

The door opened! And.. Mommy got killed, by you, by your hands.

A hand crept out from the thin crevice of a metal door. It took Mommy’s left over body, to wherever. You didn’t know what it was. Where it took her. But thanked god(or not, depends on your thoughts) at the fact that you weren’t Mommy at this moment.

Now you are somewhere. The train crashed, and you could feel the back of your shirt being picked up. You were sliding down a pipe, into somewhere.

You don’t know where it was, but you needed to get out, fast.

Doing some parkour, you looked around, and saw a long tail(plus paws) crawling up inside a vent.

“... Catnap?”

You went through some doors, and ended up seeing where the crashed train was. Going somewhere, you could see the recognizable entrance you went to at age 5. The way to Playcare.

You could hear the sounds of steps. Hurrying up you went inside the much smaller train compared to the one you were originally in.

“My name is Elliot Ludwig.”

Hm. Those words you could remember.

“When you look around at the world today,” You repeated after him.

“what one thing do you think it needs more of?”

“Playcare!”

Even at seventeen years, you were still mesmerized by what was shown.

You looked down, and could see 3— no. Five creatures walking or crawling around, resembling the Smiling Critters.

“Oh.”

Some of the critters could hear Elliot’s voice continue about Playcare, eyeing the moving train.

They saw your shadowed figure. Not knowing who you were. But a light is shown on your face.

Bubba, Dogday, Kickin, Hoppy, and Bobby saw your face. You’re back?

No. They must be seeing things. You were gone. Away from them.

But Dogday could recognize those eyes. Your skin, your curiosity, your hair(if your hair changed colors, or texture after growing up, then.. Yea, he still remembered you).

“Angel?” (Even if you didn’t really save him, he’s going to call you Angel. Because I needed a nickname for you. Y’know, because I can’t list every single name of the people who’re reading this?)

The other critters heard his whisper. … Maybe it was you.

The train stopped. But you were kind of scared, were they like Huggy or Mommy? Were they going to chase you down?

“Ah shit.”

‘Language.’ Dogday thought, dogs have good hearing y’know!

You were trying to find a way for two possible outcomes of being down here.

A) Try to make the train go back if the critters try to kill you

Or

B) Somehow reminisce in meeting your old friends

B sounded a lot more better than A.

And.. B did happen!

The 5 critters went over to the train, while you were standing there. Waiting for whatever will happen to you.

Dogday crawled over to you, it was you! Your scent!

He gave you the biggest hug while his tail wagged(really fast, it’s kind of crazy).

He was still fluffy even after these 10 years.

“Angel I missed you so much—!”

You were trying to hug him back, but a little too scared because of the critters staring into your soul.

Dogday noticed their silence and spoke up—

“Guys! This is Angel!! You don’t recognize him??”

Silence.

“THE ONE WHO WAS HIDING BEHIND PICKY..??”

“OHH”

“YOU’RE BACK?!?”

“I was thinking that it was him but I wasn’t sure…”

“ANGEL!?!?!?”

You were escorted out of the train, and were greeted by a bunch of animals pawing at you.

You couldn’t get a word in!

Picky, Crafty and Catnap came over, hearing all of the excited animal noises.

Now you were crowded by a bunch of animals. You were so tiny compared to them, so they had to be gentle.

So much noises were going on that even the smaller critters came over to see the commotion.

You were back home!

Now you can’t leave.

[penkura]

last forever [11/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, Creepy Older Dude, Mentioned Past Attempted Assault, Heavily Implied/Referenced Sex later on (NOTHING EXPLICIT)

Note: This is the one with the mentions of attempted assault in the past and reference to present relations. Again, SFW, nothing explicit, and this chapter is completely different from how I originally thought it would go. This is where I lost myself a bit and just said "screw following the manga/anime" lol. Next chapter is my original ending of the story but I split it into two chapters and chapter thirteen will have a tiny epilogue.

Taglist:

@misfits1a | @alucardsdaddyissues | @louweasleymalfoy | @fluffybunnyu | @yerrimm09 | @eyes-ofhell | @emmaiscool22 | @xenop0p | @hank88999

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7] ● [Ch. 8] ● [Ch. 9] ● [Ch. 10]

Wano is a beautiful place with desolate areas you realize, as you walk through the city trying to find a job. Kin'emon has already worked with you all to prepare your roles and provided you clothes that let you blend in, yours matching what most of the local housewives wear on a daily basis.

You've agreed to let him, and those of Wano, see you as a newly married couple with Zoro, even as he takes the role of ronin and seems less than enthusiastic about it. Faking a marriage twice over was truly an annoyance, he was beyond done with this part of his life. You hope it's not a sign of things to come with him, but right now, your focus is on finding a job, even something at a teahouse is enough. Anything that lets you blend in the best you can.

You find a small teahouse in the Flower Capitol, the owner agreeing to hire you once you had told him you were newly married and attempting to find a job temporarily to get you both on your feet since your husband was a ronin. Everything is well, you’re happy about what you’ve found and your role in helping to recruit Samurai to the raid, until you hear a voice you’ve not heard in years, making you freeze on the spot.

He's here. Why is he here?!

You’re quick to hide behind a building, barely peeking to look and see that it is in fact the man your parents had chosen for you to marry.

A man now in his mid-thirties, Hibine Kanzaki is out with who you guess to be a servant of his, and you can hear him bragging about a newborn daughter in his house. The guy always creeps you out, hearing his voice and the fake sweetness in it makes you want to bury yourself in a hole and hide. It’s the same voice he used when he'd come to see you, trying to win you over despite Elias’ glaring and you knowing he didn’t mean a word of it.

The second he seems to look where you’re hiding you back yourself up further behind the building, taking several deep breaths and praying he leaves, praying he didn’t see your face.

Once his voice fades away, you double check to make sure he’s gone, before you leave your hiding spot and hurry back to your temporary home while you’re here in Wano. Your biggest concern right now is getting to safety and staying with Zoro again.

Zoro will keep me safe, he won’t let anything happen to me…

+!+

“I-is Zoro back?”

Law doesn't miss how you're shaking like a leaf, watching you wring your hands while he shakes his head.

“No, not yet. What happened?”

“N-nothing, don’t worry about it, I just…” You take a deep breath, turning to leave again and go find Zoro, “I need Zoro right now.”

“Hey, wait,” Law’s up on his feet and grabbing Kikoku before you get too far, “You're in no state to be left alone, I'll go with you to find him. I need to see if my crew have found jobs or anything yet anyway.”

Nodding, you thank Law for joining you as the two of you return to town, you constantly looking around for Zoro, which makes Law watch you closely. No, he doesn't know your situationship with Zoro, but he's curious about what has got you so badly worked up. He almost offers you to hold his hand if you need, mostly so you stop wringing yours or balling up your kimono sleeves to the point they’re wrinkled. Law is highly tempted to ask what’s wrong as you re-enter the shopping district of the Flower Capitol, until he hears Shachi call for him.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“Mm. Take your time, Traffy.”

Staying to the side, you keep watch to make sure you’re safe, hoping to see your green haired husband around somewhere, before someone places a hand on your shoulder and you look, your feeling of safety fleeing immediately.

“It really is you! My dear fiancée, I’ve wanted to see you for so long!”

You don’t have the chance to move away before he grabs your wrist and your voice catches in your throat, before you’re able to shake it off just enough to quietly respond.

“I’m not your fiancée…I have a husband.”

Shaking his head, Hibine steps closer and it makes you back up, your attempted glare coming off as more fearful than anything, which causes him to grin at you.

He never really loved you, you’ve known that from that start. Elias could see it when your parents couldn’t.

“Oh my dear, our engagement is still very much alive…your lovely parents have been looking for you, trying to help me find you so we can finalize our marriage. Your mother especially is anxious for us to marry and have a child already~”

“Elias has a child. I’m not rea—”

His grip on your wrist tightens and it makes you start to panic, it’s just like the last time.

Just like last time…stop touching me.

Hibine takes one step towards you and you take two steps back, while he continues to grin, one hand gripping your wrist like you’ve done something wrong.

“My cute little fiancée,” his voice makes your hair stand on end and you cringe visibly, “Let’s go home together, we’ll call your parents and tell them you've left that brute of a pirate.”

“You…” you gulp, taking another step back which he copies, and you hate how weak and pathetic you feel at the moment, this man makes you sick to your stomach, “You’re hurting me…”

You’re not Zoro.

This man disgusts you, he’s possibly the worst person you’ve ever met, you’ve felt that for the last five years since you first met him. How your parents could have chosen him, thought someone in his thirties when you were barely fifteen was a good idea, you’ve never understood their thought. Even after begging them to reconsider, you were terrified until Elias got you out of your home, away from them, away from this man who saw you as simple property. You want to grab your sword, putting your hand on its hilt and ready to do so if he makes a wrong move. He always made wrong moves around you, around Elias, even after the multiple times your brother had pulled this sword himself and told this scum to not touch you, Hibine still tried every time.

By contrast, you know Zoro would never touch you without your permission, unless absolutely needed. When he’d first taught you some sword techniques you didn’t know, he always made sure you were okay with him holding your wrists to show you the proper position for your hands, making you wonder if he noticed how you flinched the first time.

You really wish he was here right now.

I want Zoro, I need my husband.

You terribly want to throw up, but you keep stepping backwards, eyes locked onto Hibine with your hand on your sword as you wonder where the hell Law and his crew were, had they not noticed your predicament yet?

Back away, keep backing away…let me go, you’re not him.

Eventually you hear Law shout your name, he can see the fear in your eyes when you catch his, he’s about to rush over to you, but you back into a hard chest before anything else happens, an arm coming around your shoulders and it makes Hibine stop too, releasing your wrist.

“There you are,” relief washes over you instantly when you recognize Zoro’s voice, looking up at him as you finally breathe again, “Been looking for you. Where have you been, wife?”

“Z-Zoro…” you shake your head and his brow furrows before he looks at Hibine, who is nearly snarling at the two of you now. “That’s…my parents…it’s him, I…”

You turn yourself to face him better and he holds you a bit closer before looking back to Hibine.

“Sorry if my wife caused any problems, I've been looking for her all afternoon,” trying to play his part, Zoro notices you rubbing your wrist, setting a slight glare on Hibine and his other hand on his swords, maybe showing them off would scare away the creep, “She doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, she’d appreciate it if you didn’t–”

“The hell is this? You’re the brute she married over me?!”

“Yeah, got a problem?”

“This is ridiculous,” Hibine growls, attempting to grab you again, “I paid to marry this wench, she should be my bride!”

The shriek that leaves your mouth when Hibine grabs your wrist and tries to pull you from Zoro makes your swordsman husband glare even worse than he was already. He knocks Hibine’s hand off you, turning you more towards him, as he pulls one of his swords and has it at the older man’s neck in an instant.

“Guess I didn’t make myself clear,” Zoro gives a glance to you, you’re nearly hyperventilating while you grip his kimono top and he looks back at Hibine, ignoring Law yelling at him to not screw anything up, you’re more important at the moment, “Keep your filthy hands off my wife or I’ll make sure you can’t touch anyone again.”

A group of people had stopped to stare at what was happening, Hibine yelling about being threatened while Law starts yelling at Zoro that he’s going to ruin everything.

“Traffy, take [Y/N] back for me.”

“And what are you going to do?!”

“Nothing, don’t worry.”

Law wants to argue, until Zoro moves you to him and he can see how shaken up, how terrified you seem to be. You’re covering your ears and your breathing is getting faster, you need to be somewhere else now before you have a full on panic attack. Nodding at Zoro, Law Shambles you both back to your temporary residence, allowing your swordsman a moment to sigh before he looks back to Hibine with a glare again.

“Now you listen. Here’s what you’re going to do for upsetting my wife.”

~~

Once you and Law are back where you were staying, you almost instantly collapse to the ground hyperventilating and dry heaving. Law knew what to expect, he quickly pinned your hair back and gave you a bucket before he ran off to get you water while you vomited everything from your lunch earlier. Too many memories, all of them bad, had come back when you saw Hibine, when he touched you, tried to act sickly sweet while having that awful look in his eyes, trying to keep up his image. You really hadn’t meant to keep it a secret he was from Wano, that he’d intended to take you all the way here once your marriage was finalized. There was never a good tike to bring it up to Zoro. Thank God for your brother, for the Straw Hats, for Zoro saving you from such a life though.

When Law returns with water, you’ve gone from getting sick to crying over how ridiculous you feel. There’s no reason for this, you’re strong. You know you are, everyone knows, they’ve seen it. Law tries to calm you down, telling you that you’re fine now, you’re safe, your crewmates will be back any moment.

You are grateful for Law’s help, even as you finally calm down and apologize, he tells you there’s no need, while you start to explain what happened and who Hibine is. The look on his face goes from curious to concerned as you continue, and you do admit your current marriage to Zoro, which surprises him greatly. He never guessed you two were married, he figured dating or maybe even hooking up. Not a full on marriage, even though you also admit you two have started dating, it was still temporary unless Zoro said otherwise.

Once you’ve finished explaining everything, you feel like you’re about to pass out and Law finds that you have a fever, you need to be laying down. He's brought a damp wash cloth for your forehead once he helps you to your room, ensuring as little light as possible can get in before he leaves you to rest, and it's not long before you’re fast asleep.

Not even a few minutes later Zoro returns, and Law confronts him about everything.

“You didn’t think that mentioning you and [Y/N]-ya are actually married before coming here was important?! Especially when her fiancé is from here!”

“He’s not her fiancé,” Zoro grits his teeth at the thought of Hibine being anything special to you, the man was a coward who used money to get he wanted, he deserved more than just a scare, “And I didn’t know he was from here. She never told me that. The marriage isn’t something we broadcast to people.”

Law sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to calm his own pounding head.

“At least it’s dealt with. I trust you didn’t take things too far?”

“Just scared him, that’s all. Where’s [Y/N]?”

“Her room, resting. She has a fever. Does she get those easily?”

Nodding, Zoro doesn’t say anything else and enters your room, you’re sitting up with your head in your hands, he swears he can hear you crying to yourself. He's used to this, but knowing the reasons why nearly breaks his heart for once.

Seeing how utterly terrified of Hibine you were, it worried him more than he’d ever admit even to you. He wonders what else you may have gone through that you never told him, if that man took things too far or what. He'll have to ask you later, but for the moment, he’s glad you’re okay. You’d barely slept on the trip to Wano, not being used to a submarine but also getting to know the Heart Pirates, Zoro can only recall one night you went to bed at a decent time and that was when you’d had a little more to drink than normal and found yourself in his bed, latched onto his left arm and kissing his shoulder before falling into a dead sleep.

He'll probably never tell you how much he’d like that to happen again.

“Hey.”

“Hey…”

“You okay?”

You shake your head while Zoro comes over and sits beside you, setting his hand on your forehead to see how your fever was, and luckily you don’t flinch or stop him. He’s relieved that seeing that man didn’t cause you to suddenly fear him too. Not like he’d ever do anything to hurt you anyway.

“I haven’t seen you so skittish since we met…did you know he’d be in the flower capitol?”

“No, I…I thought he lived elsewhere…”

The way you start to grab at your hair, though he doesn’t show it, starts to worry Zoro, and he knows he has to ask what he’s started dreading since he saw the look on your face when he ran into you earlier. It’s going to dredge up some bad memories most likely, but he’s not going to force you if you don’t want to respond.

“Can I ask you something?” when you nod, Zoro takes a breath before asking, “Did he touch you back then? When you still lived with your parents?”

You stay quiet for a moment, sighing as you finally bring you hands down from your hair with a small nod.

“Once,” you bite your lip hard, you can taste blood, and Zoro nearly tells you not to worry about explaining it when he sees you start to look distressed, “He’d come to see me, and Elias had stepped out of the room for something. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor and…Hibine was over me. I was sixteen, I didn’t know what to do. He had my wrists in his hands and was saying something I can’t remember, I blocked it out I think. He ended up bruising my wrists from holding them so tightly, but Elias stopped him from doing anything else. He came back and saw the position we were in, started yelling at him to get off me and had pulled his—my sword and threatened Hibine.”

“Makes two of us that have now.”

You smile a bit with a slight laugh and nod, finally looking over at Zoro. “My dad wanted to call off the marriage after hearing what happened, but my mom wouldn’t let him. Elias never left me alone with him again, up until he helped me run away.”

“That does explain the first time I taught you a sword technique. When I’d held your wrist and you flinched.”

“Oh yeah, you did notice that? Sorry.”

Zoro shakes his head, finally moving to join you in your bed, something you gladly accept, you trust him with every part of you. He lets you lead as you wrap your arms around him and lay back down, doing the same once you’re settled and comfortable, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry about him, wife. He ain’t gonna mess with you again. I made sure of that.”

Smiling, you nod and snuggle closer to Zoro, closing your eyes again before thanking him and falling back asleep. For once, Zoro doesn’t immediately fall asleep, instead staying awake for a bit to make sure you’re comfortable, while thinking about the brief summary you’d given him of that meeting with Hibine when you were still so young. He's glad you don’t remember what was said, it was likely the most unsavory things, he’ll never make you relive such things. Never put you through that himself.

If I’d been there I’d have cut his hands off. I’d have married you sooner, to keep him away from you. Your parents would’ve hated it, they’d have gotten no money from me…but you would’ve been safe sooner.

Zoro does eventually fall asleep, still keeping you close as you finally get much needed rest. Once dinner is ready he only leaves long enough to get you both something to eat, just letting Usopp, Franky, and Robin know you’re doing all right after telling them what had happened earlier. He doesn’t leave you alone very much that evening, apart from when Robin takes you to the bathhouse once your fever breaks.

You’re more relaxed when you make it back, but continue to lean against Zoro while Kin’emon and Law go into more details about the plan for the raid on Onigashima soon. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you a little closer, silently telling you to rest, you deserve it after the day you had, he or Robin will fill you in on anything you miss if you fall asleep. Once you do, and everyone else begins to turn in for the night later, Zoro is very careful to pick you up and take you back to your room, making sure you stay asleep as he gets you comfortable in bed. Part of him wants to stay with you, to be there if any nightmares of your time at home come up, but he’s not sure if you’ll be happy with that tonight

Instead, just like earlier, he kisses your forehead softly before leaving, letting you have some peace and quiet to sleep.

I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone hurt her again.

+!+

When Luffy and the rest of your crewmates make it to Wano finally, Sanji is the first one to hug you, not giving you a second to breathe which makes you laugh at him. You’re beyond happy to see he’s back, he's still himself, and it makes you return his hug just as tightly, while he tells you he fully understands your feelings about arranged marriages now. Awful things they are to him and to you.

You decide not to tell him or Nami, anyone really, about your run in with your now ex-fiancé for now. You will later, when it’s just you with them, for now you just tell Nami that you don’t have to worry about that man anymore, just about your parents reaction.

Zoro had scared Hibine enough that the older man decided you weren’t worth the trouble anymore, he rescinded the engagement and would inform your parents of it once he returned home. Whether he said anything more or not, Zoro never tells you, just that if the guy is a man of his word you should probably expect a letter from your parents soon about it.

Nami is relieved, pulling you into yet another hug and telling you so, expecting more details later on when you can tell her what you know.

For now, you all fall into your roles within Wano, you doing your job at the tea shop with your crewmates and even some of the Heart Pirates coming to visit when they can. Sanji comes in a few times to fawn over you in your kimono, he really thinks the floral pattern suits you which just makes you smile and thank him.

The next time Law comes in with Ikkaku, the manager has you take their order, and it gives you a chance to talk to them as you take your break at the same time.

“I was able to hand off a few of Kin’emon’s secret messages to more people today.”

“That’s good,” Law nods, watching Ikkaku as she gets up to leave with a slight smirk and he rolls his eyes at her, “The more the better, we’re going to need all we can find.”

You agree while you take the seat Ikkaku left, glad to be off your feet with someone you trust around. You still worry that Hibine is going to show up, but hope Zoro did more than enough to keep him from you.

“So, you and Rorona-ya then?”

“What do you—”

“You’re together, right?”

Taking a sharp breath, you let out a quiet ‘oh’ before nodding in return. Law doesn’t miss how bashful you seem to become, a small smile on your face while you briefly explain the whole thing to him. You trust he won’t use it against you, Law doesn’t seem like the type to do that, for whatever reason.

When you finish your story, as the tea shop owner calls for you, Law just nods.

“He saved you then, and you just fell in love with him over time.”

Your smile grows a bit as you nod, trying to keep your composure so your boss doesn’t think you’re flirting or anything.

“Exactly. I owe Zoro so much for saving me.”

There’s nothing really behind his questioning and listening to your story, Law’s curiosity got the better of him since he’s known the last couple days of your marriage to Zoro.

At least it sounds like you’re happy, whatever may come next.

+!+

Sanji does his best to keep you from hearing Brook tell him about where he’d found Zoro before Tonoyasu’s execution, how he’d been found simply sleeping with Hiyori and Toko by him, though the way it’s said makes it sound more scandalous than it actually was. Of course it’s nearly impossible for you not to hear it once Nami does, doing her duty as your friend to let you know, and while you’re shocked, you’re not sure if you believe it was anything salacious or not. She and Sanji offer to keep Zoro away from you once everyone is together again, but you reject that idea with a smile, saying everything is fine because you do believe that at least.

Zoro isn’t surprised you’ve heard about it, he just rolls his eye at Sanji who is convinced you’re secretly upset about it and your boyfriend/husband needs to apologize for something he had no control over. It’s not like anything actually happened, it was just like the times you’ve napped together, just nothing romantic involved.

So if you were upset, you’d have told him, he knows you would.

Sanji doesn’t understand it though, grumbling about it when you help him with making dinner one night that Luffy wants to have a feast with the Heart Pirates, Kid, Killer, and the Samurai, a few days before the raid on Onigashima is to start.

“That mosshead is so lucky to have you, I can’t believe him.”

“It wasn’t really his fault, Sanji. He already explained it.”

“Still though, it’s not fair to you…”

You shrug a bit, just giving Sanji a smile while you keep prepping the vegetables he gave you to work on.

“You give him too much credit.”

“And you are quick to think the worst of him, Sanji,” your friend makes a sound like he’s offended, which causes you to laugh, “I trust  and love Zoro, I know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

“…but does he love you back?”

Stopping your work, you shrug a bit, Sanji sighing slightly. With everything going on, you haven’t had much time alone with Zoro, not since you first got to Wano anyway. Every time you try to have any time alone, it gets interrupted by something or someone, there’s so much constantly going on, you’re running out of time before the festival and raid, it’s unlikely you’ll have any chance at any time together until after the raid is over.

So long as everything goes well.

Sanji throws an arm around your shoulders, hugging you when you lean into him.

“If that mosshead does anything to upset you, I’ll kick his ass for you.”

You laugh at the offer, shaking your head when you hear Luffy call for the two of you to hurry up because he was just starving to death out there.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know, Sanji.”

But hopefully that doesn’t happen.

~~

There’s finally time for you to spend with Zoro later that evening, once you and Sanji finish preparing everything and the feast Luffy's been waiting for all day gets going. There’s plenty of food to keep everyone fed, you and Sanji out of the kitchen for the rest of the night for once, and while you choose to abstain from drinking that night, you’re happy to bring some to Zoro, who gladly takes it before pulling you into his lap and keeping you close. Now that you have the chance to relax together, even with everyone else around, with all the stuff about Hiyori and the raid and what may happen afterwards being forgotten for now, a few moments of peace are greatly welcomed by everyone.

“You good?”

Nodding, you lean back against Zoro’s chest while he keeps his arm around your waist, silently telling you to stay there with him.

“I’m doing great, Zoro.”

Nami watches you two from the side, eventually tapping Sanji on the shoulder, nodding her head towards you when she sees you both get up and leave, almost sneaking off. No one else seems to notice, but Sanji hums a bit when he sees where she’s directing his sight.

“You think they’re turning in for the night?”

“Who knows,” Shrugging, Sanji goes to put his arm around her shoulders before Nami grabs his hand and moves it away from her, giving him a ‘not here’ look, “Maybe they just need a quiet place to talk about, you know, Hiyori and that stuff.”

“Hmm, maybe…”

Nami knows she’ll hear everything from you later on, you don’t keep things from her or Robin anymore, you’ve learned not to do that now.

She just hopes whatever goes on, it’s nothing you or Zoro come to regret.

+!+

“If you break her heart, I’ll never forgive you, mosshead.”

Zoro only wakes the next morning when you start to shift around, turning away from him in your sleep, relaxing again as you make yourself comfortable. He just watches you for a bit, wondering how last night got to this point. You and him in your room, consummating your two and a half year long marriage unexpectedly. Not a drop of alcohol in your system, a normal amount in Zoro’s of course, but, how on earth did it end up with the two of you in your bed?  

“What would you like from me? You’ve given me more than I could ever ask for.”

“I want tonight, just you and me, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Yes,” you nod, Zoro pulls you closer, one arm around your waist as his other hand is in your hair, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders while he brings your face closer to his, “I can happily give you that, Zoro.”

Oh right that’s how. You and Zoro had slipped away from everyone else after dinner, while Luffy tried to get the party going even more and Kid started to egg him on, it became too loud for the both of you. He’s not entirely sure how things escalated from you two talking about the raid to making out, you asking him what he wants in return for all he’s given you over the last couple years, he’d first told you that he didn’t need or want anything, but he could see you wanted something, you were just too shy to ask for it. Once Zoro told you what he wanted (he did want this, it wasn’t just for you) and you gladly agreed to it, he checked on you the whole night, to make sure you were comfortable, that he wasn’t hurting you, and that you felt safe, but you always feel safe with him, telling him so between kisses and ‘I love you’s with your hands holding his face.

You love him, and it’s still something new to him. Even last night, it was all new to both of you, two and a half years later than it normally would’ve been, but your relationship isn’t normal. You may not have come together by conventional means, not even being in love at the start, but things had changed and you’d waited for him to work things out with himself. He’s still trying to figure things out, how to voice his thoughts to you, but where you two are now feels nice to him. Whether you consider it dating or actually having a marriage, he doesn’t care anymore. So long as you stay near him and let him continue to protect you, for as long as you need him.

Zoro’s about to pull you back to him and sleep again when someone knocks on the door,  making him roll his eye before he kisses the back of your head which wakes you.

“Mm, Zoro?” You rub yours eyes a bit, sitting up to look at him once he’s out of your bed, worried he’s going to sneak off so no one catches him or because he regrets the night before, “Is it morning?”

“Someone’s at the door, I’ll be right back. Go back to sleep,” he smiles just a bit seeing you look slightly disappointed, like you don’t believe him, so he kisses your forehead gently before quietly promising, “I’m not leaving you alone, wife.”

“Okay…”

Zoro is quick to dress and makes sure you’re comfortable once you lay back down, covering you with his haori to reiterate his promise to come back, which you pull around you more as you attempt to fall back to sleep. He watches you for a moment, waiting until your breathing evens out and you’re almost asleep again before he goes to answer the door. Once he opens the door to your room, Zoro sighs and immediately wishes he’d ignored the knocking and went back to sleep with.

“Of course it’s you.”

“I’m not happy to see your face this early either,” Sanji scowls with his cigarette in his mouth, unhappy to know you and Zoro never came back to everyone the night before, and he had an idea as to why which was confirmed seeing the swordsman in your room still, “You better not have done anything to hurt her, mosshead.”

“Why the hell are you here this early?”

“Kin’emon wants to talk about the raid, I’m just rounding up people who are missing. He wants to talk during breakfast so it’ll be a little while still.”

“Got it. We’ll be there soon.”

Sanji stops Zoro from closing the door with his foot, the two shooting glares at each other before Sanji quietly speaks again.

“I’m serious, asshole. That’s my best friend you’re married to and had sex with. She loves you. Don’t break her heart.”

“I won’t, and I heard you the first twenty times.”

After Sanji leaves, you surprise Zoro by coming up behind him and hugging him, making him look back at you while you smile up at him, now wearing his haori.

“I thought I told you to go back to sleep.”

“I heard Sanji say Kin’emon wanted to talk about things, so I decided to get up.”

“Makes sense.”

Neither of you say anything for a bit, though Zoro does turn around to take your face in his hands while you keep looking up at him. He still doesn’t get why you give him such loving looks, after everything you’ve been through on your own and then with him. With him, he feels like he’s treated you so badly at times, all because he didn’t want anything to do with romance at the start. But you didn’t give up on him, not on your marriage despite the way it came about, despite his initial rejection of your feelings, your fight about Robin, your first kiss in Water Seven, you worrying about him after Kuma showing up at Thriller Bark. Then when you reunited and he was willing to try a relationship with you, though neither of you knew what to call it, you never gave up on him.

And then last night, it keeps replaying in his head. He wonders if it’s the same for you, though the slightest blush you have tells him that it is. There’s nothing but happiness and love in your eyes too.

Why did you choose to love me? You deserve much better.

Zoro wonders if you’d tell him an actual reason, or something cheesy. Something about the heart wanting that it wants, he thinks, is what Sanji’s said before while swooning over some girl, or that you don’t want better, you just want him. He probably wouldn’t mind hearing that from you, only because it’s you, he’d reason.

After a few more minutes of silence and just enjoying each other’s presence, Zoro finally leans down and kisses you, making you hum a bit and smile more.

“Good morning, husband.”

“Mornin’, wife.”

You giggle a bit at his response which makes Zoro smirk as he picks you up in a princess carry, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, taking you back and dropping you on your bed, laying down with and trapping you against him. Everyone can wait a little while longer as the two of you sleep in a bit more, he thinks. Zoro tries to fall back asleep but you place small kisses all over his face, preventing him from doing so, since you know it’ll be difficult to wake him in time to see what Kin’emon wants from you all. If this is how his mornings could be, even with your touchy feely affection, Zoro thinks he doesn’t mind staying married to you.

In fact, he’s starting to think he can get used to this.

“I love you, Zoro~”

Zoro simply nods at you, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead. “I know. Thank you.”

I’ll tell you soon, I promise.

+!+

The bandage on your forehead itches and you’re fighting not to pull the same stunt as your husband would with ripping it off. Chopper would scold you, and right now, it’s one of the last things you need. With the fight against Kaido and his Beast Pirates over, Luffy and Zoro unconscious in the room you’re heading to, your prayers are going towards both of them waking soon. You want to leave Wano with them both, but also fear what may come next for you and Zoro as a couple or if he’ll put an end to your marriage once you leave this place. You try not to think about it, instead opening the door to the room where Chopper is checking Luffy and you go to Zoro, your doctor giving you a smile.

“They should both wake up soon! I think…”

Returning his smile, you nod a bit at Chopper.

“Thanks, doctor. I don’t know where we’d be without you, Chopper.”

While Chopper tries to pretend your words aren’t flattering him, you seat yourself beside Zoro, like you have the last couple days, quietly taking his hand and feeling grateful no one else is really around at the moment. Most of your new friends and allies still don’t know your real relationship, you’d like to keep it that way until you all leave, but who knows how that might go now. People are constantly in and out of this room lately, everyone it seems is taking turns to see if Luffy mostly is awake, your crewmates focusing on both your captain and swordsman.

For you, although you do want Luffy to wake quickly too, your main focus is on Zoro, ensuring he’s still alive after all the damage he'd taken. You’d gotten a basic rundown from Sanji, even hearing how Zoro had beaten King, which was right before you saw how badly he’d been hurt, how near death he was this time.

You think it must be worse than Thriller Bark.

Right now, all your hope is on his waking up. Being able to check on him, hold his hand, make sure he’s still breathing, it gives you some small semblance of peace, especially with Chopper’s comment that they should both wake soon.

When you’re sure it’s just you and them, or your other crewmates are around, you’re able to make yourself press your forehead into his chest, listening closely for his heart beat, and feeling nothing but relief each time you hear it. The few times you swear he squeezes your hand back, despite still being knocked out, give you hope they’ll be up sooner rather, that you and Zoro can finally work out what your relationship is and will be.

Truly you just hope he doesn’t break your heart.

“Please. Wake up soon, okay? I love you.”

You quickly place a kiss on his forehead, as he’s done to you multiple times lately, before contenting yourself to simply stay beside Zoro and hold onto his hand, silent prayers that he wakes up soon. After a little while, you get surprised by someone setting a hand on your shoulder, looking up to see Sanji giving you a smile.

“Why don’t you come with me, [Y/N]? I’ll make you something to eat~”

You return the smile and let Sanji help you up, him putting an arm around your shoulders as he walks you to the kitchen of where you’re being allowed to stay for now. He starts telling you everything he’s planning to make for when Luffy and Zoro wake up, before you two are stopped by a few of the younger samurai.

One of them, around your age, tries hitting on you and asking you out, but before you can even deny the invitation, Sanji steps up with a grin.

“Hey now! Don’t you know this lovely girl is our stupid swordsman’s wife? I don’t think he’ll take too kindly to you hitting on her!”

The samurai looks from Sanji to you, as you slap his arm and nearly hiss out his name.

“Is…is that…true?’

Smiling a bit, you simply say, “Zoro and I are just very close, that’s all. I am flattered, but I’m not looking to date anyone.”

It's not a full lie, you don’t know where you and Zoro stand at the moment anyway, and you aren’t looking to start dating someone from Wano anyway. Hibine be damned, you just aren’t interested in anyone here, Zoro is the only one for you, you believe.

The samurai takes your rejection well, saying he hopes you two are happy whatever happens, before Sanji starts to turn you back down the hall he was leading you.

“Stop telling people about me and Zoro!”

“Come on, you weren’t going to go out with that guy anyway.”

“You know what I mean though.”

“Do I?” Sanji shrugs, glancing over his shoulder in time for the door to the room you’d left to close, and he sighs, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

You don’t tell him that you saw Hiyori around the corner too.

+!+

“Do you think he likes her?”

For a second Sanji thinks you're kidding. You're in the middle of stitching up one of Zoro's shirts before moving to your own, while Sanji starts to work on something for you to eat, he raises an eyebrow and just looks at you. How lucky were you to make it out of that battle against the Beast Pirates nearly unscathed. The cut on your forehead and some other minor ones here and there, but you’re fine, nothing like what your husband and captain have had to deal with. Not even close to what Sanji's been recovering from, and he's already back up and ready to cook for everyone.

“You're kidding, right?”

When you shake your head, Sanji furrows his brow and sighs, taking a drag from his cigarette and moving to sit beside you at the table. He puts a hand on top of yours to stop your work and make you look at him, he's giving you the soft smile you've come to appreciate from him.

“That mosshead loves you, not Hiyori.”

“Sanji–”

“No, listen to me for a minute,” he tightens his grip on your hand for a second, before continuing, “I know Zoro better than I like to admit, and he has no romantic feelings for Hiyori, I can see that. The way he looks at you, though, there's always been something there.”

“What do you–”

“Every time he has just a bit too much to drink, he watches you. He gets this soft look on his face, like he's thinking about something. I've only ever seen that look on his face when he looks at you. He's been like that ever since I met you guys.”

“That doesn’t mean anything…”

Shrugging, Sanji gets up from his seat beside you again.

“Maybe not, but I don’t think he would’ve slept with you if he didn’t love you back.”

You nearly squeak a response, slapping Sanji’s hand off your shoulder as he laughs, shaking his head and asking how you expected him to not know by now. You’re not very good at hiding things, not from him anyway.

“Just talk to that mosshead after he wakes up. I know you two will be fine, you’re made for each other.”

You really do hope Sanji’s right. The two of you end up working in a comfortable silence that’s only broken by Chopper running into the kitchen, nearly in tears. You almost feel your heart drop as you fear the worst before Sanji speaks up.

“Chopper? What’s wrong?”

“They’re…they’re both…awake!”

[syndrossi]

Oh my god, the au where Daemon and the boys end up in Winterfell has hilarious potential.Ned is frantically looking for a way to hide 2 kids and 2 dragons, Cat is first furious because of suspicions of repeated treason and then terrified because it looks like they're about to commit treason.Robb, Jon, Bran and Theon are dying to find out what these strange children they met on the way back from the execution are.Robert if he finds out about the boy who looks like Rhaegar will be furious, Cersei is absolutely thrilled (she's willing to wait). Daemon who was "thrown" further away from Winterfell goes after his children, which horrifies half the North.I'm especially curious how Viserys and Dany will react to the new Targaryens. Jon Connington better not be told about Rhaegar, he'll have a heart attack.

Any time you throw a bunch of Targaryens and dragons into a world that has zero-to-few of either, it's gonna be a mess. And holy shit, Cersei being "willing to wait" is so horrific but also so in character. 😱 (OTOH, Daemon is also a very handsome man and not dissimilar to Rhaegar, and he's about to be seizing power. In the brief window before Daemon learns about the Lannister treachery and how it killed OG!Rhaegar's children, she might have some ambitions there.)

I hadn't thought about them encountering Jon and Rhaegar on the way back from the execution. That's probably too early, since that's when they get the dire wolves, which is roughly two months before Robert arrives. Daemon would surely have found the twins by then and/or wreaked enough havoc with Caraxes in search of them to change the course of Robert feeling safe enough to travel North. But perhaps Daemon is displaced slightly in time as well? That gives Jon and Rhaegar time to settle in, grief-stricken at losing Daemon and the world they'd grown to regard as their own, and vulnerable with their young dragons. Oh, but the heartache of Jon seeing the other Jon with baby!Ghost and feeling the loss of his own Ghost.

Viserys's instability is pretty set at this point, so I suspect he doesn't survive long once he and Dany join Daemon's growing gaggle of Targaryens. (He might even make an attempt on one of the boys to steal one of their dragons.). Since Dany is pregnant and with Drogo at this point, it might be more of a struggle to extract them unless we handwave the book timeline a bit to have Dany's marriage happen not when she's thirteen ffs.

I do think that bb!Rhaegar will be regarded as Daemon's son and not the original Rhaegar because no timeline makes sense there; he can't be Rhaegar's dead son Aegon because the ages don't match up and obviously he's not Rhaegar himself. Even DAEMON being around makes no sense, but people are slightly more willing to accept that he's himself, given Caraxes and Dark Sister. And sure, okay, he has two other sons that history doesn't know about by his first wife. But anyone who knew Rhaegar before and sees him is gonna be making those comparisons, in the same way that Resonant!Jon and Ned's Jon are gonna be compared. Eerily similar, but also noticeably different in ways where their relation to Daemon is clear.

Politically, I think it's a terrible decision for Ned to shelter the boys and their dragons, but given how alike this Jon looks to his own, and Jon himself saying things that only his Jon would know to convince him to protect them--he's going to be torn.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We are back in the flood, with three (!) new Japanese QLs starting this week (we will be patiently waiting for @isaksbestpillow’s excellent subs on the new GL, so I’ll cover that next week), on top of our three ongoing shows. Three of these are streaming weekly on Gaga, with two provided via fansub (feel free to ask if you don’t know where to find them).

Love in the Air Koi

The much anticipated Japanese remake of Love in the Air is here, and it's off to a strong start! I'm a fan of the Thai original despite its flaws, and I am hopeful that a remake can elevate the core of the story while shedding some of the sillier plot aspects and filler. This first episode did exactly that, executing all the important beats of the original first episode in half the time, and establishing our core characters and their dynamics quite well. The casting is good all around, but Nagumo Shoma is perfect as Arashi, and he and Rei have good chemistry. I will look forward to this one every week.

Our Youth

Another strong start right out of the gate! This drama seems to be a second chance romance of sorts. We begin with Minase in present time (narrating about how he and Hirukawa can only communicate via letters, which I suspect may be incarceration-related?) before traveling back six years to high school to see their relationship unfold. Minase is a wealthy but lonely top student who teachers adore, Hirukawa is a poor and abused kid who teachers have already written off as a lost cause, and they are inevitably drawn to each other when Minase witnesses some of the horrible things Hirukawa is dealing with and keeps his mouth shut about it. This drama feels confident about the story it's telling and it's so beautifully shot. Hirukawa already has my heart. I especially like that his characterization feels nuanced and specific rather than archetypal; he is troubled but he's not a bully, and rather than rejecting care, he seeks it out from someone he perceives as trustworthy. I am along for this ride and excited to see where Minase's perspective takes us.

Smells Like Green Spirit

Ow, my heart. This week town gossip spread like wildfire about Mishima and Kirino's supposed romance, and both had a heart to heart with their mothers about it, with wildly different results. While Mishima's wonderful mother affirmed that she knows who he is and wants him to be happy and live his truth, Kirino was shamed and guilted by his homophobic wreck of a mother. We already know how much her grief weighs on him, and her inability to accept him will surely make things hard for him going forward. It was lovely to see he and Mishima escape together to their Shangri-La, however briefly, but I also felt sad that he kept his painful experience to himself rather than confiding in his friend. I just want them both to be okay. Yumeno also had a coming out of sorts, and while I was happy to see another supportive mother, I thought it overcrowded the episode to shove that in, too, especially with lots of time also spent on the villagers. I would have liked the focus to stay more tightly on our besties.

Love is Like a Poison

Welcome to the battle couple era!! Shiba and Haruto are settling into couple life (adorably), and Shiba is defiantly claiming Haruto as his partner for anyone who cares to know. And this week we get what we've been waiting for, as the story sets up the final boss, who appears to be an enemy of both Shiba and Haruto (the former professionally, the latter personally). Haruto is still not telling his Ryo-kun what he's driving after, but we got some helpful hints at the end of this episode about what is ultimately motivating his scamming. I am so excited to see them team up again to take this guy down.

Chaser Game W

I’ll keep this brief. This sequel season had little purpose, with a plot that changed randomly from week to week. They capped it off with a finale that made an insulting mockery of the homophobia real same sex couples in Japan face. This show sticks out like a sore thumb on this list of otherwise excellent Japanese queer media, and I’m very glad it’s over.

[emeraldbloodcrown]

ONCE MORE

Chapter: One - Not Easy Pairing: Poly; Tattoo Artists!141 x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Deciding to get a head start in cleaning up the bakery, you end up hitting up the hardware store and meet a handsome stranger, willing to help you out. Content/Warning: Word Count: 2.6

Days passed, with both of you crashing in your old room, switching between who got to take the too old bed and who had to make due with a mattress on the floor. All of your essentials were strewn around your old desk or were still in your backpacks while the rest of your belongings had taken temporary residency in a storage facility.

In the meantime, you had been able to call a cleaning company and get them to sweep through the shop, taking all of the items that had fallen victim to the fire and documenting the damage for insurance. The safety assessment had already happened before your grandmother had written you, so today would be the first day, you’d be able to work towards the renovation.

You were sitting on the mattress, waiting for Anna to finish in the adjacent bathroom, while scrolling on your phone. You heard her return before you saw her as every step she took was accompanied by a small sound of discomfort.

“How can that bed be more uncomfortable than the damn floor?”

Without looking up, you answered her. “Cause it wasn’t chosen for comfort but for the design.” For emphasis, you clapped twice, making the LED butterflies around the frame light up.

“Never would’ve expected a 16-year old you to be so cheesy.”

“Don’t be jealous”

Anna stretched, letting out a satisfied groan when her spine cracked back into place, and she plopped down next to you.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“Well we have someone coming to see if our electricity is intact, as well as check our plumbing, which wasn’t necessarily hit but since we have to renovate most everything, why not that too?”

Anna hummed.

“Grandma told me that the hardware store has some sort of sale today, so we should check that out and maybe get as much of what we’re gonna need as we can get.”

“Alright, you wanna do that? I can stay and be with the workers.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Making a small detour to get yourself a quick breakfast on the way, after having to swear to your grandmother for the umpteenth time to only visit the family shops and ’not any of the fast-paced run of the mill stores that seemed to pop up everywhere’, you drove to the hardware store.

You still remembered it, having already existed for a long time before you were born but what had once been a small company with only a handful of employees, most of them related to each other, had expanded into a three story tall store.

When your grandmother had told you about needing your help with restoring her shop, you had anticipated that, until it got to the point of baking and selling, you’d be very out of your depth. Building had always been your grandfather’s thing, not something you held a lot of interest in, not that you would’ve been allowed to indulge in it if you had.

A part of you still recalled the look he had given you when you had needed a chisel for a school project and, not knowing the name for it, had just called it the ‘thing for wood stabbing’. An accurate description, you found, but he had not been amused.

So it wasn’t like you thought you would just wing it, but seeing the sheer size, and therefore implied variety in options, made you wonder if your original assessment of doing it yourself with the help of some friends and intense tutorials on YouTube wouldn’t just turn out to be very wishful thinking.

Still you decided to park your car and after minutes of circling the parking lot, you found a free spot quite a bit away out of the entrance. The sale had brought out more customers, you were sure, but you wondered just how well this shop was doing.

Grabbing a cart, you were still staring at the massive store, not watching where you were going and were suddenly taken out of your daydreaming when you stumbled into someone.

Losing your balance, you arm shot out to grab the pillar next to you to save you the landing on concrete, when at the same time the person grabbed your other arm, steadying you. Bitterly a part of you noticed, how he was completely unfazed by you bumping into him. He could’ve at least swayed a little out of politeness.

Apology and thanks already at the tip of your tongue, it remained exactly there when you took a look at the stranger.

At first glance, all you could think about was how handsome he looked, not quite sure if his rugged features was adding to that or if nothing could distract from and ruin his appearance.

He was wearing boots with dark jeans, both having seen better days, as they showed clear signs of wear and tear, as well as several paint blotches, with the jeans also having been haphazardly patched up.

Hoodie and coat were in the same condition, and you wondered if this was his usual attire for working.

Finally making it up to his face, you noticed his long hair, which peaked out underneath the beanie on top of his head, almost reaching his shoulders and curling around his neck. It seemed less of a fashion choice and more like he had just chosen to let his hair grow wild, which was only proven by the state of his beard. Full and long but also very unkempt.

Where you could see skin, he seemed to have strong feature, sharp jaw line only partially hidden but coming full force around his cheeks and brow. He looked wild, edging on dangerous but any fear his features might have caused were forgotten when you looked into his.

Blue.

Stunning and deep, and so very kind. There were little stress lines around them, accompanied by the darkness and bags underneath.

All in all, he looked rough, the kind you’d be polite to but keep a safe distance to. He looked like he had been dealt some shitty cards by life lately but despite it all, you couldn’t help but stare and think how beautiful those eyes of his were.

“Luv?”

And apparently he had also been blessed with an unfairly attractive voice.

In your daze, you only managed to reply with a dumbfounded: “Huh?”

Embarrassment flooded your system as soon as the words had left your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line, before you tried to save some grace.

“Sorry, what was that?”

His hand on your arm tightened for a moment, only until he was sure you could keep your balance on your own, and then he let you go. You might not have noticed it, if it hadn’t been for you missing his warmth immediately, and the utter confusion at yourself that followed.

Alright. You made a mental note to check Tinder for any local hookups, if you were that touch starved that a stranger could cause such a reaction you were in more of a need for a good fuck than you had assumed.

“Was jus’ askin’ if you were alright. Didn’t get hurt?”

“I bumped into you. Should probably ask you that instead.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, making the lines around his eyes crinkle, giving his eyes a softer edge now.

“Takes a lot more than a pretty bird to send me tumblin’.”

You know it was meant to be a good-hearted joke, nothing serious but you still flushed a little and even he seemed taken aback by his words.

He cleared his throat, “So not hurt, right?”

Noticing the sudden awkwardness, you chose to simply hum in agreement and give him a little wave when you parted ways.

Except you didn’t, because as it turned out, you weren’t just heading to the same store but remaining on the same floor and even going to the same aisle. He looked over his shoulders, probably to make sure you weren’t some weird stalker but when he did, your eyes weren’t even on him.

Instead you looked up at the daunting and overwhelming variations of floor coatings, with more than half of them looking nearly indistinguishable to your very uninitiated eyes.

You looked and felt out of your depth and helpless, trying to figure out what the differences were, when your stranger took pity on you.

“First time?”

You heaved a sigh, “That obvious, huh?”

“‘fraid so. You want some help?”

You took a look at him but didn’t answer yet. Even in his kindness, he looked tired and you had a feeling that he would appreciate you rejecting his polite offer, but the chances of you faring without him were so thin, and with so many customers coming in for the sale, you doubted an employee would have enough time for you, so you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

“My grandma will have my head for this but I fear I’m gonna need it.”

He smiled again and you found yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often and making a mental note to try it for however long he was gonna help you.

“No beheading today. It’s no bother. What do you need?”

He closed the distance between you and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Pulling up the shopping list you had made beforehand, you turned your phone for him to see. His finger quickly scrolling over the display to see the length of the list before leading you to the first stop.

“I’m John, by the way.”

John turned out to be a saint, patiently explaining to you what each option he presented to you for each item on your list was for and what you needed to look out for when installing it.

“Pretty big project for a beginner.”

“Not by choice. My grandpa was the handyman in our family but I can’t really ask him, and actually calling in a service has always left me with outrageous bills. ‘Course I didn’t think I could just wing it, but last I was here this shop was much smaller.”

He hummed, taking one more glance at your phone before showing you another selection to choose from.

“Lived here before?”

“Yeah, grew up here for the most part actually.”

“Glad to be back?”

“For the most part, I guess. Not too sure just yet.”

John finished by putting the final piece into your cart, giving you a polite smile.

“Well, good luck to you.”

He turned on his heel but you stopped him as just letting him leave wasn’t sitting right by you.

“I know you said, it’s no bother but let me make it up to you.”

There was a moment where you looked at each other, both of you with crossed arms over your chest, trying to gauge who would give into the other first but John must’ve seen something in your eyes because he huffed a little before answering you.

“Alright, luv. Just give me a ring and I’m all yours.” He pulled a small notepad from one of his many coat pockets and quickly scribbled his number on it before handing it to you.

After he left you, you finally allowed you to smile at the weird encounter. That definitely hadn’t been on your schedule but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. Taking your cart, you pushed it towards check-out, bracing yourself for the next hurdle: actually paying for the many things in it.

There had been an easiness in John’s limbs as he got out of the shop, his lips almost humming as he got into the car and he caught himself tapping along the steering wheel but the closer he got to his destination, he felt the weight return, as if his bone marrow had turned into cement, dragging him down with every movement.

For a moment, he remained in his car after he parked, listening to the sounds around him and hoping against his better judgement to hear the familiar tunes, smell that scent of her baking, but of course there was nothing.

So he got out, grabbed his purchases and walked into his house. A house that was now solely his, despite the fact that it had been built for a family, for an ours. For her, by him.

The house was musty, needed to be aired and properly cleaned. John knew that if she could see the state it was in, she would throw a fit, tear him a new one for ever letting it come to this.

‘You gotta take care of our home’, she’d say, usually with a whisk in her hand, more often than not making her cinnamon apple buns, the very thing she brought him after their first date when he’d told he hated sweets and she’d told him, he’d love hers.

(She had been right.)

But that was just the thing. For her, their home had been their garden, the reading nook he’d built, the many pictures of their lives and all of the other finer things she had insisted on. For him, she had been his home, and with her gone, he couldn’t find it in him to care, partially hoping that the mess would call out to her and bring her back, even if he couldn’t.

Instead he had taken to disappearing in his work shed for hours on end, working on smaller and bigger projects, anything to take his mind of things. The only break of that routine was the daily phone call from Kate.

He answered her questions more on autopilot, but she hadn’t called him out for it yet so he counted his peaceful days for as long as he could, until she would inevitably drag him back to work to relieve Simon from doing his own and John’s job.

Almost, as if on cue, his phone rang, showing Kate’s number and he answered. He had the practiced replies ready for her but she finally asked him about what he had been doing, the words froze on the tip of his tongue, melted into liquid and got swallowed with saliva, as he surprised both Kate and himself by what he actually told he.

“I met someone today.”

“So what’s the verdict?”

Anna had come outside of the shop as soon as she saw your car pull up and had helped you with bringing your purchases inside. Afterwards, you had both grabbed a quick dinner, settling down on the ground while discussing your plans for the next step, also giving you a chance to check in with the results of her day.

“Well, thankfully it’s not really a must/red light situation and more a might as well/yellow situation. Both teams said that our electricity and water is working fine but that it’s gonna need some work soon, and since we’re already doing everything else, we might wanna look into that too.”

“That can’t be cheap…”

“Nope, but we should definitely be safe for at least a month or two. I mean, we did account for a lot of repairs.”

Taking a bite, you pointed at one of the papers next to her, the bright colors a stark contrast to the white of the service bills.

“What’s that?”

Following the direction of your finger, she pulled it out and showed it to you.

It was a flyer advertising an autumn festival, promising lots of foods, a show and some dancing.

“Didn’t take you for the type to go to these.”

Anna scoffed and shook her head.

“I’m not. But lots of the town’s people will probably be there.”

“And?” You prompted her to continue, not quite getting her point.

“And, your grandmother made such a fuss about community, not just from what you told me about her but also from all the times she reminded us to go to family shops instead of any of the new coffee shops or fast food restaurant. Would be a good way to get to know the people, maybe we’ll meet someone who can help us.”

[lking-creation-hub]

So I'm replaying Slay the Princess now that the Pristine Cut is out, starting with a quick run of the game mostly to get the Stranger's ending in the heart of the Princess. Somehow that was the first Ending I found in my first playthrough of the original game, and I wanted to recreate it in this new 'universe' and keep a save file with her there right next to the original save file, before I go back and comb through for new content, so I was playing through a first run pretty quickly (and still somehow got to the new Damsel content, those who have seen it will know).

I'll admit I cried a lot of times in my first playthough, and I know I would probably cry again in this one. Maybe not at the same places, but probably the new content.

But even in my first playthrough, when I cried, I kept going. But just now I've come up on one line that made me have to fully stop for a few minutes (which is what I'm doing now, processing by posting this). I don't know if this line was in the original version, I think I would have remembered it, but...

(Spoilers below)

In response to the Princess saying 'It took courage for you to make your way down here, away from the paths others would have had you walk. We find that courage beautiful,' The Contrarian says this:

And something about that line damn near broke me just now. I could (and maybe will) go on a huge ramble about how heartbreaking it is for the seemingly-confident and seemingly-lighthearted Contrarian to so casually describe himself as 'the worst part of us', as if that's a fact. I'm genuinely sobbing at that thought, partly because I do relate to it. He has such a factual tone when he describes himself as just completely bad, the 'worst part of us' in his entirety, and god I know how much it hurts to think of yourself like that, to believe that every part of yourself is awful and makes things worse. This was the last character I'd expect to relate on that, but it adds so much depth to him.

And past that, the complete compassion in the Princess calling that part of them beautiful. The idea that these things we look at in ourselves and hate can be held with such compassion by someone else. I just can't describe how light and kind of overwhelmed it feels. Like I'm still typing mostly because I don't think I'm ready to go back into the game and see the next line. The game is still sitting on the screen I have screenshot above, because this scene is just so overwhelmingly beautiful to me that I actually need a break to process it (in the MOST complimentary way, of course).

@blacktabbygames You nailed it the first time around and from what little I've played of the Pristine Cut you've somehow improved on what I had previously considered a perfect game. I can't wait to explore all of the rest of it (and probably pick up Scarlet Hollow after I've fully explored Slay the Princess).