#in particular with regards to prisons

[neonphoenix]

Note that Trump intends to execute the 40 people currently on federal death row, and that during his presidency he had 16 little executed over the course of a six month period - that's more federal executions than have been carried out under any president in the past hundred years and more, excluding military executions. Since the reinstitution of the federal death penalty in the eighties, only 16 people have been executed by the federal government. Bush had three prisoners executed after being elected. The rest were Trump.

If Biden chooses to commute these prisoners sentences to life in prison, as opposed to the death penalty, this will be off the table for Trump.

Even in situations where guilt is proven without a shadow of a doubt, the death penalty is expensive, and the countless appeals put forth on behalf of prisoners waste valuable time and resources of public lawyers and justices - far more resources than would be needed to hold prisoners for life.

I'd encourage anyone who is a citizen of the US to read up on the death penalty, and consider calling the White House to request that all federal prisoners on death row have their sentences be committed to life in prison.

[fingertipsmp3]

Do you think anyone would fund me to do a PhD on failed events and their impact on popular culture. Because I think about it all the time

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter II : Guilty as Sin

“If long-suffering propriety is what the want from me—

They don’t know how you’ve haunted me so stunningly.”

series masterlist Chapter I

pairing: post prison/ cm:evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance, hurt/comfort, fluffy angsty

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n's (I'm sorry, I know I'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, hurt/comfort, harsh words and gossip about reader and Spence; info-dumping Spencer; pet names (angel) possibly eventual smut in later parts, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything and as always, lemme know what you think!

note: still third person pov, but this one is more from the readers perspective. Thinking maybe I’ll go back and forth between chapters if you see a quote in purple it’s readers perspective, if the quote is green it’ll be Spencer’s ����

wordcount: 2.1k

Of course, Penelope did not disappoint, popping a tiny confetti popper at the newlyweds as they made their way out of the conference room and into the bullpen, which felt like an awkward makeshift reception. The rest of the team offered playful congratulations, with Alvez going so far as to wolf-whistle and point out the way the couple's linked hands which in turn earned him a swift knock on the back of the head courtesy of Tara. It felt safe and joyous. Y/N tried to smile, hesitantly dropping Spencer’s hand as she collected her things, the anxiety of being away from these people, from her home and normal life, just starting to settle into her chest.

The flight to Seattle was long. Though Y/N had traveled by jet multiple times, it had never felt so massive as she and Spencer sat at the small table combing through the case file in comfortable silence. So far, three couples had been found dead in their quiet Seattle homes. Of the couples, two of the men had been professors at different colleges in the area while the third was the head of a non-profit organization. The women, were all nearly twenty years young and had worked for their husbands in some way before being married. At each crime scene, the unsub left a calling card of sorts. A feather in the hands of the woman and a beautifully written poetic line alluding to the dangers of an “unruly” woman in the hand of the man.

“These cards are beautiful,” Y/N mused, turning the evidence bag with the delicate stationery over in her hands. “Each line is poetic in nature but not quite right. See, ‘Wise men once said Wild winds are death to the candle’? And these feathers?”

“I don’t think any of these are actual published poems, more like plays at various poets' works. But the feather, by the look of it, it looks like it’s possibly from an albatross. They’re seabirds with wingspans that can reach up to nearly ten feet. There are several poems regarding that particular bird. The first one that comes to mind is Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s ‘The Rime of Ancient Mariner,’ in which an albatross is wrongfully shot down because a mariner thought it to be a bad omen. In older mythologies, the albatross was seen as good luck, bringing wind to sailors. In the poem, the mariner is forced to wear the lifeless albatross around his neck in place of the traditional cross.” There’s an excitement in Spencer that y/n hasn’t seen before, the way his eyes light up and his hand flail almost wildly. It’s endearing— cute she would almost say.

“It’s not a super common metaphor, but the albatross is also often used in association with guilt or shame,” Spencer continued, sitting back in his chair, eyes looking anywhere but at the woman in front of him. “Some authors use it to symbolize a curse…sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his curls hanging gently around his face as he dropped his gaze back down to the file on the table.

“No-no, don’t apologize. That was all incredibly fascinating. I knew you are wildly academic, but why exactly do you know all of that about some random bird I’ve never even heard of?” Y/N's tone wasn’t teasing or harsh; it was full of genuine sincerity and curiosity, which took Spencer completely by surprise.

“My mentor… when I started at the BAU, he had a thing with birds,” Spencer chuckled, offering a small shrug as his gaze came back to meet hers. “I guess I just really wanted to impress him.” The jet fell back into a comfortable silence, except for the rustling papers, for another hour until Y/N decided she’d had enough and retreated to the small couch to rest her eyes for a bit.

The drive from the airport to the university was quick. The house they’d been assigned was cute, small, quaint, but certainly big enough for a professor and their spouse to be comfortable. There was an office for Spencer, a decently sized kitchen, and a living room that opened up to a sweet little patio. Truly, there should’ve been no complaints. As Y/N entered the bedroom, she frowned, her go-bag in hand as she shuffled around the nicely sized room, sizing up the singular king-sized bed. A knock at the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts.

Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes falling between the bed and the woman in front of him before nodding. “Don’t worry, you can take the master if you’d like. The office has a pullout, and I really don’t mind.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can sleep here—we can...” her voice going up an octave as she tried and failed to play it cool. “It’s not a big deal, Spencer. We’re both adults.” She shrugged, tossing her bag onto the bed and turning to sit at its foot, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Spencer read her like a book, seeing the young woman in front of him in the midst of a battle with herself, her pride and anxiety both fighting for control, though he knew she’d likely never admit that.

“Really, I’m okay. Thank you, though. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and a little wave before retreating down the hall.

For the next week or so, the duo did their best to make the space feel like a home. What it lacked in size, it surely made up for it in atmosphere. For a state that had a nasty rap for rain and gloom, it was surprisingly peaceful. There hadn’t been any rain yet, and the summer sun stayed up well into the night. There were moments where Y/N caught herself thinking that had it not been for work, this would be a really nice life.

When the semester started, they fell into a comfortable routine. During the day, Y/N carried the full course load of a grad student, while Spencer spent most of his time tucked away in his on-campus office, prepping lectures and reviewing assignments. At night, the real work would begin as they’d sit at their quaint little dining table with a pot of coffee or take-out containers and go over any developments in the case that the team had found back in DC. In the two weeks they’d been in Seattle, the body count thankfully hadn’t gone up.

As the weeks went on, the rumblings of the new “hot” behavioral psychology professor spread like wildfire. Those rumors were quickly followed by the fact that he was not only married, but his wife was a student. It didn't take long for people to begin connecting the dots. With every professor calling out her name and immediately sizing her up, the other students caught on fast. Of course, after that, y/n became hyper aware the way almost everyone looked at her and the whispers from professors and students alike that she was “the girl,” the reason Doctor Reid had to move out west. She’d expected it from the students; it was incredible gossip that she herself would’ve eaten up back in her first round of university. What she hadn’t expected were the comments made by her partner's new colleagues, whispers usually a little too loud as she’d make her way into a room.

“She really should be ashamed of herself. You know, I heard he only married her to minimize the scandal. I bet he’s miserable.”

On a normal day, the comment would’ve rolled right off her back, she’d file it away with the rest of the case's details. Maybe she was overtired just exhausted from the workload of simultaneously playing a grad student and an FBI agent, but today, she let the words seep beneath her skin, poisoning her mind. She hadn’t stayed for the class, instead turning on her heels, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks as she made her way back to the house. She felt absolutely ridiculous, letting her emotions consume her this way. The words weren’t true, nothing about her current life or situation was true, so why did it hurt so much hearing that people thought Spencer was miserable beside her?

Am I allowed to cry?

When she entered the house, she crumbled against the door, the tears freely flowing as she allowed herself to fall apart in the privacy of the home that was supposed to be empty.

“Y/N?” Spencer called, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors as he made his way down the hall. “What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” He froze at the end of the hall, taking in the crumpled form of his pseudo-wife. “W-what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” The words came rushing out as he sunk to his knees in front of her, his hands hesitantly reaching out to cup her cheeks, his thumb trying to brush the tears away as quickly as they fell.

“I-I’m fine... You-you weren’t supposed to see this,” she sniffed, trying to pull away, to hide her face in her sweater, but Spencer wouldn’t let that happen. His hand staying planted firmly on her cheek, keeping her in place. “You’re supposed to be in your office...” she said, practically whimpering as another round of tears betrayed her.

“I came home to grab a book and a bite to eat... angel, what’s going on?”

“It’s silly—no, it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t even care, and none of this is real, and I—I...�� She caught herself, her breaths coming short and quick, but Spencer didn’t move. He sat, patiently waiting for her to continue. “I know that it’s a story, that I am not really your wife, that you were never really my professor, and that six months ago you didn’t even know who I was.” Finally, she took a deep breath, her hand slowly taking his from her cheek and holding it in both of hers in her lap. “But it’s so awful, Spence... I’m just so tired of hearing how I’ve ruined your life, that I’m using you, that...” The last words caught in her throat as another silent sob racked through her body. “...that you’re miserable.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Do I look miserable? No, I don’t think I do and if I do, I sincerely apologize, I think it just may be my resting face.” his voice dripped the kind of sincerity that made Y/N’s heart flutter, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lip. “You’ve got a good face Spencer, not too miserable…”

Spencer chuckled, taking the compliment with a little nod, as he offered her hand a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, you’re going through this seemingly alone, and if it would make you feel any better I can have a conversation with the other professors… and though I’ve never been in your exact position, I do remember what it was like to constantly be torn down by everyone around you. You’re allowed to cry, angel, allowed to feel all of the things you’re currently feeling. And while I might only be your temporary husband, I did sign that paper, and I do promise to take care of you and make you smile and protect you from every awful thing I can’t control outside that door. Okay?”

She nodded, her gaze falling to their joined hands in her lap as the last of her tears stained her now rosy cheeks.

“I’m going to need a verbal response, angel.” His tone shifted; it wasn’t quite as delicate or gentle as his previous vows had been, but it was just stern enough to draw her gaze back up to his.

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

“Y-yes. Okay.” With another nod, she took her hand from his, dragging it down her dampened cheeks. “I’m sorry about all this.” She offered him a small smile and a shrug. “I swear I’m not usually like this—”

“Stop it. There is nothing to be sorry about.” He rose to his feet, his hand immediately reaching out to help his partner up. “Now come on, I’ve got classes to cancel, and we’ve gotta get you cleaned up. I think we deserve to take the rest of the day off.”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, are you—are you proposing we play hooky this afternoon?” Y/N clutched her metaphorical pearls, mock shock consuming her features. Spencer rolled his eyes, a genuine chuckle passing his lips as he shook his head.

“What can I say, we’ve been here—what, going on three weeks? I think we deserve to see the sights. And besides, how else am I gonna show the world just how miserable I am by your side?” He teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the side of her head. “Now come on, seriously, up, moving. Let’s go, I’m taking you out.”

“If it’s make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?”

Chapter III: So High School

taglist: @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @herbookgarden @guiltyyassin

[readyforevolution]

Malcolm X Was Obsessed with His Watch

I have less patience with someone who doesn't wear a watch than with anyone else, for this type is not time-conscious. In all our deeds, the proper value and respect for time determines success or failure.

-- Malcolm X

Wristwatches played an interesting and important role in the life of Malcolm X. The above quote (told to Alex Haley for The Autobiography of Malcolm X) shows how deeply he respected time, appreciated others who understood its significance, and viewed the watch as an identifier for such people.

"You won't find anybody more time-conscious than I am. I live by my watch, keeping appointments. Even when I'm using my car, I drive by my watch, not my speedometer. Time is more important to me than distance."

"Anything I do today, I regard as urgent. No man is given but so much time to accomplish whatever is his life's work. My life in particular never has stayed fixed in one position for very long. You have seen how throughout my life, I have often known unexpected drastic changes."

* Malcolm X was given his watch by one of his brothers after he had left prison.

[666writingcafe]

Feeling a Bit Tense?

A (Mildly NSFW) Text Conversation Between Barbatos and MC

Barbatos: *waving emoji*

MC: *gif of someone waving tiredly*

Barbatos: Rough day?

MC: *gif of someone shrugging*

Barbatos: Do you need or want to talk about it?

MC: Should I?

Barbatos: If it will make you feel better, yes.

MC: *keeps typing and erasing messages*

Barbatos: Does this have anything to do with Solomon? If he's been messing with you, I'll be more than happy to talk to him for you.

MC: No need.

Barbatos: Do you genuinely feel that way, or are you just trying to get me to back off?

MC: Regarding this particular issue, he hasn't done anything wrong.

Barbatos: Okay.

Barbatos: So, what sort of "issue" are you dealing with?

MC: I'm not sure how to put it delicately.

Barbatos: Don't worry about sounding prim and proper. Just tell me what's on your mind.

MC: Here goes nothing...

MC: I'd like to get laid.

Barbatos: I see.

Barbatos: And you're worried about doing it with someone from this timeline, aren't you?

MC: I mean...wouldn't that cause a paradox?

Barbatos: Isn't it a bit late for you to start worrying about paradoxes, considering that three of us know your true identity?

MC: You, Diavolo, and/or Thirteen would have figured it out one way or another. We just figured it would be easier to be open about it with you guys than risk ending up dead or in prison.

Barbatos: Fair point.

Barbatos: Anyway, as long as you don't produce something that's not there in your timeline, you should be good to proceed.

MC: Except I don't trust many people here.

Barbatos: Understandable. I feel the same way.

MC: This is probably a pointless question, but have any advice?

Barbatos: I would say take care of it yourself, but that's not going to help much, is it?

MC: I mean, it's taken the edge off, but nothing I use is going to be quite the same as having another living, breathing person with me.

Barbatos: So you're looking for a physical connection.

MC: Kind of?

Barbatos: My next piece of advice would be to arrange a meeting with an escort, but as you've already stated, you're rather wary of most people here, and personally I don't like dealing with them. They ask for WAY too much when they realize that they're servicing the Young Master, and that doesn't just apply to money.

MC: *whistling crow sticker*

Barbatos: Maybe ask one of the brothers?

MC: *no sticker*

MC: We're not NEARLY that close for me to successfully get away with that.

Barbatos: Is there anyone else who lives here that you had some sort of a relationship with in your timeline?

MC: Yes, but they're out of the question.

Barbatos: Not necessarily.

MC: Trust me.

Barbatos: They're members of royalty, aren't they?

MC: *eyes emoji*

Barbatos: Interesting.

MC: Good or bad?

Barbatos: Not bad. Actually mildly impressed.

MC: Thanks?

Barbatos: So...

MC: *questioning sticker*

Barbatos: If you will allow me to be blunt for a moment, how would you like me to fuck you?

MC: *gif of someone spitting out water*

Barbatos: Simply being practical.

Barbatos: I'm not sending you back to Solomon.

Barbatos: The prince is too busy to help with this, sadly.

Barbatos: And I don't trust any of the other royals to not harm you. I want you to be able to return to your timeline in one piece.

Barbatos: Unless you don't trust me?

MC: It's not that.

Barbatos: Then what is it?

MC: In my timeline, I was your first.

Barbatos: Then that's perfect. We'll still keep that part of it accurate. It'd just happen sooner, which isn't a super big deal.

MC: If I didn't know better, I'd think this was your intention all along.

Barbatos: What, to get in bed with you?

MC: *nodding sticker*

Barbatos: I'd be lying if I told you that hasn't crossed my mind once or twice during your stay here so far.

MC: *gif of someone saying 'i knew it'*

Barbatos: What can I say? Like it or not, I'm a creature of desire.

Barbatos: Also...

Barbatos: Your scent has given you away a couple of times, so I figured that I'd had a fair shot if I ever DID want to indulge.

MC: *blushing emoji*

Barbatos: We'll talk more when you return to the castle.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch

[burlowbeanie]

Locked Tomb Timeline, as far as I can tell

This is a long one, and a bit of a mess. I'll be making other posts about the fun date coincidences and my speculations about their implications, but I figured I should give some of the actual evidence in one solid chonky post so I can link to it and don't need to repeat myself later on.

(BD = before death of the earth; AR = after resurrection; BM = before millennium, AM = after millennium)

Unspecified Pre-Death of the earth: Foundation of Canaan house/the facility that Jod et al used for the cryogenic experiments. Establishment of Kuiper installation, Uranus platform, Mars installation w/ room for 5 million, the Lucifer Telescope, and fusion batteries (Ntn 14, Ntn 74, Ntn 189)

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

Now! Some pre-resurrection numbers!

Before 2 BD: C-- sides with the crew (Ntn 13)

1 BD: Governments shift away from the cyrogenics plan (Ntn 13)

0 BD: Jod destroys the world

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

Now, the most unclear section of the timeline: the resurrection and its immediate aftermath.

Augustine, from Htn 176: “Alfred and I were there early enough to found the Koniortos Court on the Fifth, but Lyctors like Cyth wouldn’t be born for years and years, and she spent her whole life suffering Seventh House woo-woo theories regarding the value of hereditary cancer … whereas Mercy is the oldest lag except for me, and she was out hammering at the Eighth House before the paint was even dry on the Resurrection.”

The resurrection occurs a few weeks after the death of the earth (Ntn 396). Then things get a bit hazy. We know the approximate order of the resurrections of the original ten disciples, but not how far apart they were staggered - was it minutes? Months? Years?

Similarly, Cyrus/Val and Anastasia/Samael are implied to have showed up before Cytherea/Loveday, when Cytherea was almost 30 years old. Both cavaliers have last names associated with their house, which suggests that either the third and ninth were established enough to at least have a small population by the time that they went to Canaan House, or that they took those names/were given those names later on.

Cytherea-as-Dulcinea says that she "dreamed of being a 9th nun" at age 13, and it's unclear if she's speaking as herself or as Dulcinea or how much she was lying as either persona (Gtn 104). Thus, we don't know if the ninth house was established by the time she went to Canaan House, though it seems like the sort of hint that both Cytherea and Muir would have had a fun time dropping.

Thus, while it is possible/seems probably many/most of the houses were established by the time that any of the newer disciples showed up, especially Cytherea, that is unconfirmed. However, it took until at least 30 years after the resurrection, probably more, for all 16 of the disciples to gather.

A rough order of events during this time, some of which may overlap:

Original disciples resurrected

New disciples arrive

Lyctors ascend; Anastasia fails

Alecto is put in the tomb and Cassiopeia dies

The lyctors and Jod flee to the Mithraeum, leaving the system

Particular questions that remain and would help clarify things:

Were Anastasia, Samael, Cyrus, Valancy, and Loveday born or resurrected? It seems like Cytherea was likely born.

When did Anastasia have a child and found the tombkeeper line?

When did Pyrrha (or G1deon!Pyrrha) paint a nursury? Was it the same time she visited Anastasia "before she got settled" (Ntn 85)? Was Anastasia's child the birth she assisted at (Ntn 121)?

When was the ninth founded? When was the prison installation founded? Was there anything on the ninth before Anastasia was told to prepare for Alecto's imprisonment? Samael seems to have been born or resurrected after the ninth was founded, unless he was given his name later?

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

After resurrection: Actual Numbers. Once we get like 100-200 years out from the resurrection, things start to get clearer. Not clear, but clearer.

100 AR: God names himself Gaius (Htn 521). Is this when Cytherea ascends, since she is given credit for the "naming oneself after one's cavalier" thing? Or was that some God bullshit?

200 AR: Alecto put in tomb (Htn 478)

4000 AR: source gram comes from sixth house to BOE (Htn 529)

5000 AR: BOE comes to the attention of jod and the lyctors; they may have existed beforehand but been unable to find the houses/be found (Htn 154). Augustine begins questioning the purpose of the empire (Htn 483).

Moving into the thousand years before the events of the series:

9000 AR/ 1000 BM: Matthias Nonius lives (Gtn 53)

750-700 BM: New Rho contract drawn up (Ntn 206)

519ish BM: beginning planning of dios apate major (Htn 474)

300 BM: Cyth gets angry (Gtn 402). Last contact between second and first houses (Gtn 456).

100 BM: Jod leaves the Mithraeum (Htn 81).

80 BM: Jod joins the Erebos (Htn 81)

40-39 BM: G1deon starts to really annoy Augustine, who speaking in 1 AM states: “He has caused me more pain over these last scant forty years than I dare to admit" (Htn 268). I think Wake makes the most sense as an explanation for this, though it's off by about five years.

34 BM: Wake reinvigorates BOE (Htn 154). Ortus born? That’s a fun coincidence that means nothing.

30 BM: Mercy thinks Jod should have returned to the Mithraeum then (Htn 81).

25-24 BM: BOE finds out about resurrection beasts (Htn 275) because Wake talks to G1deon (Ntn 155)

21 BM: G1 begins his (final) pursuit of wake (Htn 469)

Sometime after 300 BM, most likely 20 BM, Cytherea teaches BOE about steles and obelisks (Ntn 155)

20 BM approximately, presumably, could be earlier: Augustine and Mercy talk to BOE. BOE gets accurate fleet schematics for the first time in a hundred years and eventually the location of the mithraeum, though those were probably earlier with Cytherea and two decades later with Cytherea!Wake respectively (Ntn 155)

19 BM: Isaac’s dad killed by terrorists on [redacted], presumably BOE (Gtn 459). Mercy and Augustine are “talking” (Htn 87); Dios apate major. Mercy sees Cytherea for the last time and Cytherea laughs so much she insults Mercy (Htn 120), which is an understandable response given that Mercy may have described the dios apate major plan and/or requested her involvement. Mercy sees Sarpedon as a young soldier (about 20 years PM; close enough and matches up with dios apate) (Htn 81).

19–18 BM: Wake dies (Htn 88). Gideon born. Creche massacre.

17 BM: Harrow born.

14 BM Gideon’s first escape attempt (Gtn 24)

13 BM: Gideon is not a necromancer confirmed (Gtn 24)

10 BM: Augustine sees Cytherea for the last time (Htn 120). Wake’s bones get put on rotation (Htn 476).

9-8 BM: Harrow is suicidal. Harrow opens the tomb. Harrow hears/sees the body. Onset of psychosis. Unclear in what order (Htn 49, 247).

7 BM: (Harrow is still suicidal but sees the body?). Harrow and Gideon fight (Htn 477). Gideon sees Harrow opening the tomb. Her parents kill themselves. Gideon gets nightmares about being in the tomb (Gtn 202).

5 BM: Harrow starts puppeting (?girl wtf?? What was going on in the intervening two years???) (Gtn 348). Last ninth house chaplains and adepts are lost in action (Htn 81).

2 BM: Gideon enters Drearburgh for the last time

1 BM: Number 7 estimated five years from the Mithraeum (Htn 125).

0 BM, with rough approximates:

Month 1-3: prepping for Canaan house

Month 4: Canaan house

Month 5: harrow throws up; Camilla nonverbal

Canaan house recovery missions from the emperor and BOE — what the fuck. Who got there first. How and why did they miss the other people. Seems like BOE got there, intentionally left H and I but took G’s body??????????

Month 6: Harrow and Ianthe arrive on the Mithraeum

Month 8: Harrow kills her 13th planet with Mercy. It’s desert and triple-sunned. Wake makes posthumous contact with BOE (Ntn 155).

Month 9-10: When Judith says she begins writing her report; she’s with BOE on a wooded double(potentially triple?)-sunned planet. At one point several weeks (or months?) later Mercy shows up. According to Judith, that is. Judith honey I might need to recuse your testimony for somehow being more of an unreliable narrator than the lobotomized traumatized psychotic unmedicated half-dead triple-haunted 201-souled Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Then I could bump this back to month 8 which would make more sense.

Month 10: Harrow catches G1d!Pyrrah with Cytherea!Wake

Between Month 10 and Month 12: Harrow turns 18. Harrow discovers G1d can drain thanergy. Harrow makes soup. Harrow makes Ianthe’s arm. Dios apate minor.

Month 12: Harrow finds Cam and Pal on a wooded planet and sees Judith. Judith tries to warn Harrow about Mercy’s involvement.

Mercy ditches her for unspecified business. I suspect this is when she meets with We Suffer? Was this when she heals Judith?

1 AM

Month 2: death of the emperor. Quick undeath of the emperor. Nona born(?)

Month 5: Station Red-As-Blood abandoned (Ntn 152). The demons show up on Antioch (Ntn 448).

Month (6?): Nona gets a job (Ntn 41).

Month 7: nona gets shot, cam/pal fusion reveal (Ntn 105 through the end of the chapter)

Month 8: events of Ntn

[prettyboykatsuki]

based on this post. i flipped a coin and it landed on dan heng. it was going to be dragon!dh but i thought this was better. top + gn!reader. major spoilers for the hsr main storyline. implicit nsfw 18+

wc ; 1.8k

There is no place for you in the Xianzhou Luofu.

You are a prisoner of war. A long life species. Once, long ago, you'd been taken in by Imbibitor Lunae for your unwavering strength. From a planet long destroyed, with no family nor honor - you'd pressed your forehead to the floor and begged for your life.

Your Master had laughed at the time. Head tilted and smiling, shining and brilliant. You can recall the image so well even now, so many years later.

In the prisons of the Xianzhou, a new lifeform was birthed. The splitting image of your master, but no more than their ghost. The reanimated being Imbibitor Lunae took the punishment of your Master - banished from the Xianzhou. And you, a soul with no ties, took it upon yourself to follow.

For starters, Dan Heng does not like when you call him with any honorifics like he is above you. Dan Heng prefers his name. If you are to speak to him at all, it must be with his name. He likes names, it seems. He gave you yours when you'd followed him far enough and realized you didn't have one.

Next, Dan Heng does not seem to like you very much. You don't think it's personal. As far as ghosts go, you are little more than a poltergeist of his past. The people on the Express regard you fondly, but Dan Heng always looks like he is in pain when his gaze touches you too long.

And last, Dan Heng is beautiful even when he is not in his other forms. Even when he is the Dan Heng of the Astral Express. Dan Heng without name or origin. When he is a little more like you, somehow - you think he is beautiful.

And despite the similarities, Dan Heng is nothing like your master. There are many ghosts in the Xianzhou, but the ghost of Dan Feng does not linger in Dan Heng. Dan Heng is colder. Smoother. At times gentler, too. You know little of reincarnation, but of this much you can be sure. And though your Master saved your life, by now you've spent more time with Dan Heng than you ever did with them.

You do not know much of love. There was someone once. Long, long ago.

And yet, this much you know - you think your heart flutters whenever you think of Dan Heng.

Often, you are forced to reconcile with the differences between your master and Dan Heng. Their tastes, from food to clothing, always stand out to you. It is their taste in adornments that you usually pay most attention to. It's not that Dan Feng was particular.

But Dan Heng often wears jewelry so thin you can hardly see it. It's hard to describe how much it effects you, other than saying that it does. Other than saying you're always the first to notice the changes. He wears the connected tassel and ribbon only when he's leaving the ship. If someone is to gift him jewelry for any reason, he will always wear at least once.

You are forced to recognize the little details of Dan Heng when you notice these adornments. Forced to picture them in your fantasies in which you are able to put him to bed. Often on the floor of the archives, you wonder about the thin swishes of silver.

He wears a necklace underneath the high collar of his shirt. It's a gift from March 7th. A blue moon on a thin silver chain that sits perfectly in the middle of his sternum, trapped against his chest. Sometimes, when he puts on the clothes he has for sleep - you catch a glimpse of it. The starlight pouring through the windows make it shine.

His neck is thin, you think. Something about it is fragile. What would happen to such a material if you were to reach out and touch it.

(What would happen to Dan Heng if your hand tightened around it. Would his skin finally feel flush? Warm to your fingers, contrasting to the cool tones? )

There are bracelets too. Several. Some less formal, more gifts from March. One from Mr. Yang - this time it is gold. Gold, a braided chain - but delicate all the same. This one he takes off often. Only for special events. The curve of his wrist bewitches you. You think the bend of it must be pretty as a picture.

(You think of the indentation it might leave on your spine, had he let you have his way with him, The sound of his voice in your ear, pitchy and high - enough that the pain of being imprinted wouldn't faze you at all.

How good he would feel with his arms around your shoulders and your hands on his hips, bracing for dear life.)

Dan Heng says he doesn't wear rings often.

"They'll tear the pages in the archives if I'm not careful."

But he does own them. He buys them for himself usually, at the market. They're all of the same type. Bands of fine metals that are practical. Silver with aquamarine and amethyst. Gold with quartz and opal. He's not the type to spend so heavily on excess - so there are few. Accumulated after years and years, but untouched by time.

You wonder, if there's any particular reason he keeps them. You aren't sure there is. But he likes them, all the same. Rings are important in your culture. Different ones for different occasion. You think it is too much of a pipedream to hope he thinks of you as he buys them.

(You think of him wearing rings more often than not. It fills you with homesickness. The slender of his fingers with the jewels you've given him. A tradition from your homeland. Something about Dan Heng incites the desire to spoil, adoration bloomed from something much more potent than subservience.

He's beautiful always, but how beautiful would he be underneath you? Black hair and thin features. Delicate and ethereal, otherworldly. His hands covering his expression, painted in pink. Pink cheeks and hot pink mouth, bitten and swollen to hell.

The shine of the things you've given him, all over. You are dying to know lately, if it's possible to make a perfect thing more beautiful)

Last, there is your favorite thing to gift him. Anklets. From the beginning, you're unsure of where the compulsion came from. Even before you ended up in this state - you thought it would suit him. A chain around the ankle, with trinkets. Something more playful than elegant, but suited to Dan Heng all the same.

Recently, Dan Heng parades around the express in his dragon form often enough. The secret is out, so it's pointless in more ways than one to always maintain it. Though he prefers his other form, it is less energy to maintain this one. So he does.

Imbibitor Lunae is seated on the edge of your bed wearing your anklet, and you think the part of you that tries not to get too close might die soon.

You blink once, then again to assure you've not got mad.

"You're wearing it,"

Dan Heng gives you a momentary blank stare before flushing down to his neck.

"You noticed." Comes his reply, curt and deflective. Normally, you'd meet him tit for tat. Match his sarcasm to yours, but the words die as you inch closer to the edge of the bed. He doesn't back away.

"You're...wearing it. Why?"

He doesn't say anything to this. Just flushes and sighs like he's somehow above answering. You think it's endearing. You stand, sit on the edge of the bed and stare. You feel something in you start to crack.

Yes, lately - it is harder and harder to pretend that you do not look at Dan Heng and long.

"Dan Heng," You say, slowly and clearly "I want to touch you."

This makes him look like he'll keel over. There's some words forming in his mouth, something meant to scold you. When your eyes meet the words seem to die. Maybe he can tell you're serious. They're blue and wide and ethereal, stunned into shocked silence.

Your hand rests on his ankle. He doesn't move as you turn to look at it, pressing it against your thumb. You think a single hand around the bend of it, from thumb to ring finger could fit it. A being so powerful not much thicker than grass blades. Pale like milk pouring over honey.

"Since when?" Is his next question. He looks troubled.

"Since as long as we've been aboard the express."

You move towards the end of the bed and Dan Heng makes room for where you sit. You place your hand against clothed calf, planing up until his knee and resting there. He frowns.

"Did you not long for your Master?"

"No," You say firm, getting on your knees and leaning up. Dan Heng stumbles back against the pillows that hold him up. He falls to them as you hover over them and suddenly you're so close. "Only you,"

You take a piece of his hair, long and silky, kissing it as tenderly as you can. From this angle he flushes. Adorned and beautiful, with the same necklace and dainty hooped earrings. The little details that make up all of his idiosyncrasies.

"Only me." He repeats, soft and low and cute. Yes, there is only Dan Heng. You're sure your master could never make a face like this. He looks up at you a little stunned, into quiet silence that doesn't reach you.

"Why did you wear it?" You lean in his. His breath is warm with mint.

"I'm sure you're clever enough to figure that out."

You put your hands on his waist, inching up against the fabric. Your noses touch.

"I want to hear you say it," You reply to him, a little closer - brushing against his lips. He makes a face at you "Or else it will feel too much like a dream."

Your knee presses against the place between his legs but Dan Heng makes no moves to stop you.

"I wore it for you to notice. I didn't think you really would."

You laugh softly.

"I always notice. I'm always looking at you. Just you. It has been that way for a long time now."

He closes his eyes and laughs with you.

"I suppose it has."

You kiss him like this. Slow and tender and gentle, a soft sensation that builds itself to one of lust. You try not to devour Dan Heng, but it grows impossible. How could you turn away from him like this? Ripe like something waiting to be plucked, eaten whole even when taken apart slowly. You dip your tongue into Dan Hengs mouth, licking the fangs but never cutting yourself on their sharp edges.

Something stirs in you, something hard pressed against your stomach. You laugh a little.

"Dan Heng," You say again, teeth scrapping his jaw "I want to look at you a little closer."

He breathes you in. His hand reaches for yours, feeling for your ring finger.

"Nothing is stopping you."

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

‎ ‎‎Honor Among Thieves

Captain Hook x Fem! Reader | 2.5k

⎯⎯ summary ‣‣‣ “On an ordinary summer day my friends and I are having fun at the beach when suddenly Captain Hook and his pirates come seemingly out of nowhere and attack, causing chaos. I try to escape, even so much as to reach the car my friends and I used to get there, but I get caught and by one of the pirates and taken.”

⎯⎯ content warnings & tags ‣‣‣ dubcon, penis in vagina sex, creampie, fem! oral receiving, dom! Hook, body worship, fingering, breast kink, praise, dirty talk and pet names.

⎯⎯ requested by ‣‣‣ the wonderful @disney-girl67.

⎯⎯ banner credits ‣‣‣ the lovely @cafekitsune.

The intensifying heat of the sun today was rather unbearable for my liking—I had to make sure the amount of sunscreen I applied was just right for my skin in regards to basking in the summer heat. Thankfully, my best friends had some spare bottles of lotion perfect for our trip to the beach. We’ve packed just the best meals suitable for our picnic date; it’s been a while since we’ve taken a week off of an exhausting day of work, and an opportunity arose when we were given a discount to a beach getaway!

I drew a satisfying breath, taking in the fresh breeze that blew from the east side of the coast. Apart from the overwhelming heat of the sun, it was quite refreshing to take a time off of the monotonous city where industries and businesses collided in chaos. The palm trees danced lively by the breathtaking view, the birds chirping happily as we booked a stay at the chalet nearby.

“So, Ashley, what do you think of this spot so far?” I asked.

“It’s perfect,” my friend smiled. “Summer is a godsend, especially these days. The weather may be humid, but other than that their services are properly managed. I can’t stand always having to work under our boss lately. So I’ve decided to take a leave!”

“May I add that this particular sea stands out because there’s lots of treasure underneath.” my other friend commended. “Rumors say there used to be pirates here, but I believe they’re long dead after getting shipwrecked.”

“Pirates?” I asked, sitting upright, fixing my bikini. “Wait, are you saying, this place isn’t safe for visitors like us?”

“Relax, friend,” my other friend spoke, laughing. “It’s just a scary story spread all across this village. I’m sure that with all the legal authorities becoming more aware of the troubles they cause, they're probably thrown into prison by now.”

“Good, good.” I replied. 

“Anyways, I think now is the right time to go in for a dive! The deeper, the better!” 

“Wait, guys, but-“ 

My friends ignored me this time. They left me without any explanation to stay, leaving me to rot in my own thoughts of whether there were potential thieves roaming around the place. But I’ve decided I won’t back down. I left the patio, without any other reason to make excuses for why I refused to go in for a swim. Out of guilt, I just kept on going, leaving all my worries behind.

My friends and I ran towards the seaside, happy and carefree of the world’s stressors. We even threw some handfuls of sand at each other and splashed some seawater the moment we went for a swim. 

I found it difficult to keep up with my friends this time, the way they swam around the beach and took pictures of the glittering waters. But I dared not to be a killjoy as of this moment, I complied with their requests to have fun regardless.

As we swam recklessly by the sea, I noticed the sight of a large, wooden ship approaching from a distance, seemingly approaching towards us. I felt all along that my gut instinct was right. I tried my best to not falter at first, but knowing they could kill if we didn’t surrender our belongings was something I was truly terrified of. 

“Ashley! Lottie! Mary!” I called out. “There’s a ship approaching! Let’s gather around and leave!”

“[Name], you’re being incredibly ridiculous.” my friend Mary laughed. “Those can’t be pirates! It looks like a normal ship!”

“But-“

My friends ignored my pleas, so I had no other choice but to leave the seaside. I was deathly worried about their wellbeing since pirates aren’t to be trusted regardless, but I started to give less fucks about others and focus on my own needs. This is it. I left my friends and made my way back to the beach house, running half naked and sweaty from the intense blanket of heat that filled the air.

“Take a closer look, Murphy,” scoffed a pirate from the ship as he used his binoculars to zoom into the sight of my friends swimming. “We eating good tonight, aren’t we?”

“Damn right. Nothing more than a bunch of bombshells worth taking in for the night.” Black Murphy laughed loudly. “James will surely be having fun by the end of the day. From what I understand, he’s already by the shore holding some random bitch hostage.”

“Right! Hah. The Captain should consider himself lucky.”

And there I was. I finally arrived at the beach house, surprised to find the door to our room locked. Pleas of someone could be heard from inside, and I didn’t know what to do other than bang the door from outside. The voice was muffled, which made me realize that whoever the captor was turned out to be someone not to be messed with.

My heart raced upon this discovery. Who could have possibly thought there was someone else inside the compound? I tried using all of my strength to open the door. I tried, and tried, and tried…..

And with all my brute force, I managed to successfully pry the door open. I was then met with an unexpected scene.

There in the corner of the room stood a tall, dark figure dressed in red, while his other hand was replaced with some sort of hook. He apparently was holding some sort of knife with his other hand, and it turned out that the identity of who he just killed was the manager of the beach house me and my friends stayed in. The figure took a step forward, revealing himself to be none other than a pirate captain.

I tried to leave, but another one of his pirates grabbed me by the wrists from behind, pushing me to the ground and swiftly locking the door from outside. It was unknown as to how this happened, but I knew from the bottom of my heart that this was coming. 

“Looking as gorgeous as you always were, lovely stranger.” the pirate spoke softly. “Say, are you perhaps here for a trip?”

“Um, yes?” I hesitantly replied. “Who could you be?”

“That doesn’t matter, my dear. In fact, your name doesn’t matter to me either. Say, what are your thoughts about a relationship of give and take? Worry not, for I won’t harm you, as long as you do exactly as I say.”

“Huh????”

“I came here to claim five million bucks from this entire resort. Provided you and your friends do exactly as we please, your lives shall be spared.”

“What???!!!” I protested, attempting to get up and reach for the door behind me. “No, I must have known…!! You-you must be the captain!!! Please, captain, spare our lives!!!”

“Why, if it isn’t the right answer, hm? My name is Captain Hook, I also go by the name James. Though this info won’t matter by the time I’m done with you.”

I froze, unsure of how to react in the face of such a threat. I attempted to stand up, only for the captain to kneel on one knee and unfasten my bikini straps. 

“Please…..” I begged. “Let me go! I’ll do anything!!!”

“Is that so? Why then, don’t resist.” Captain Hook smirked.

I frankly hated how this was turning me on.

He moved his hook down my breasts, groping it with the thin piece of metal while his other hand caressed my cheek. 

“Such a beautiful, sensitive little thing.” he cooed. “Gods must have sent you to serve as my personal pet.”

Tears formed in my eyes as I disobeyed his request and resisted the captain’s touch, only for him to pull me inward. He kneaded on my breasts gently and leaned closer to suckle on my nipples, which was already hard at the sight of his tall stature. He swirled his tongue around it, moaning gently as the sounds of sloppy slurps filled the room.

I hated how good it made me feel. I shivered at the thought of a random stranger’s face up my breasts, but there was no denying that he was extremely good at it. A part of my mind wandered on the scenario where he claimed a number of bodies. From the charm of his facial hair surrounding his features, to his enigmatic smile, it left me with chills—and they weren’t exactly that of the bad type.

He didn’t stop, oh, he didn’t. The more I held back a moan, he just kept sucking in long slurps that left me soaking in my arousal. My breath hitched at the sight of his unshaved face lapping and salivating against my breasts, carefully caressing it as he pulled away.

“Mmmmmhhhh~”, I groaned in frustration.

“What a cute, desperate pet.” Captain Hook whispered. “If all it takes for you to grow wet is to have someone suckle on those stress balls, then you must be a really needy whore after all.”

“Please……I need it….I need it so bad!!!” I protested, desperate for release.

“Eager for my cock?” Captain Hook asked. “Well, you might want to exercise a little patience, my dear. Good things don’t always come in easy packages. Now, let’s take this off from you, shall we?”

With that, he tore my panties off with a clenched fist, leaving my naked form to sulk in hopelessness and frustration. He wasn’t the type to give warnings, for he was quite straight up with what he wanted to do. He was all powerful. That only gave way for me to feel worthless and pathetically needy for his touch.

“Mmmmmm……already this wet? Hah. How pathetic.”

He didn’t give warnings, indeed. I knew he had it in him when he dove into my cunt, kissing the nub gently as he rubbed his finger against it. I felt as if I was about to squirt too early, but I held it in. Then comes the hard part. The fingers. He stuck two fingers in me, forcing his way in without any form of lube or prep. With the burning pain slowly melting away into pleasure, I let him swirl his tongue around my clit without any form of inhibitions after all. The captain yapped and lapped at my vaginal fluids, overflowing to an extent of it streaming down my cunt. It felt warm, pleasurable, and on top of all that, I felt like I was about to catch feelings for the man.

His digits began curling upward, making me wince at the length of his fingers, yet still aroused. The slight curve didn’t bother me in the slightest. It felt so good, and I for once didn’t mind squirting and cumming all over his face for all I cared.

“Ahhhh, I’m close,” I moaned. Captain Hook drove his mouth deeper, giving my clit a rough suck before pulling away. Leaving my entrance gaping with fluid, he chuckled smugly.

“You taste divine, pet. Hmmm….I think you’re ready to take all of me now. Just relax.”

Captain Hook let go of my figure, turning to his pants as he pulled the upper section down. I wasn’t expecting the sight of at least ten inches of trouser action, and I grew hopelessly frustrated by the fact that it still wasn’t shoved deep in me. 

“Now, now, dear.” Captain Hook spoke. “This won’t be lasting quite long. After all, you’re already this close.”

Spreading my legs wider, the captain rubbed my clit with his cock, enabling me to make use of my energy in humping right back. I held the throbbing length, and felt its texture before he slipped it right inside me with force.

”AGH!!” I squealed.

“What, don’t you like it?” Captain Hook asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Keep going….It burns, but, keep….going!”

“I see. Well, then who am I to deny you what you want.” 

With one thrust, he drove his cock inside me and started to slowly rock in and out of my cunt. It felt euphoric, really, the way he handled me roughly and recklessly without any filter. To compensate for his efforts of ramming through my walls, I fucked him back.

My breasts wobbled as my body grew used to the pleasure judging from the growing speed of his thrusts. He was brutal, violent, just like any other pirate would be when faced with an incoming threat. Gripping my cheeks tightly, Captain Hook used his superior strength to lift my limbs upward to gain a better access towards my core. He kept hitting, and hitting the spot, so much that I could feel myself cumming in less than five whole minutes. I arched and mewled against his grasp, the sounds of skin slapping against skin becoming more apparent. I began to develop no care for whoever overheard our little affair going on. All I needed was to reach completion at the hands of this charming stranger.

Captain Hook was also growing desperate over time. His moans grew more animalistic, muttering a ‘yes’ repeatedly as he was about to lose composure. When I felt a tinge of pleasure spark from within my heated core, that was when he chose to pick up speed. He then leaned closer to feel my neck with his face, leaving hickeys all over as he continued to bite down the layers of thin skin. I yelped in pain for a moment as the sensation slowly turned into pleasure the way he bit on the right spots. 

If only he could see my face right then and there, I would have been humiliated from that point onward. Then he did.

“Ah, ah, ah, no looking elsewhere.” Captain Hook muttered under his breath, panting hard. “Eyes on me. Show me how much you crave this feeling.”

“I—Mmmmmmhhhh….!!! Please, I’m….I’m gonna…..”

“Hold it off, little one. Have your master do all the work.”

With all his strength, Captain Hook grabbed my hips tightly, the hilt of his cock ramming in and out of my heat. The slaps against my ass were wet and loud, our moans matching each other like a symphony. 

“Agh!!!! Captain!!!” I trembled in excitement. “Ahhhhh~”

I wailed his name (James) as Captain Hook thrusted so deep into my core. My walls fluttered and throbbed hard that it was almost a crime for him to pull out of me. I shook against him, crying like a bitch in heat as I felt like the whole world had just shattered before my eyes. Captain Hook spurted his seed balls deep in me, his cum surrounding itself all over my dripping cunt. I let out a deep sigh, realizing the whole mess I’ve been engaging with in the company of a complete stranger.

“Hah……Hahhhhh……..”

Captain Hook didn’t even budge, his cock already retreating from my walls in a slow, yet steady fashion. 

“Such a filthy, disgusting little mutt.” he said, putting his cock back in and leaving me to sulk by the edge of the doorstep. “Get up.”

Captain Hook grabbed my cute, pink bikini, tossing it before my face.

“What is your name?”

“[Name].”

“You did well, [Name],” he said. “Judging by the looks of it, you owe me several nights of complete entertainment. Come outside when you’re ready. I’m more than willing to bring you into my ship.”

[vindicated-truth]

“You look well, Park Jeongje-ssi.”

Jeongje tilts his head and languidly takes his seat across his most consistent, most frequent visitor.

“That’s what you already said the last time you came, Lieutenant Han.” Jeongje smirks. “I think by this time you can be honest enough to do away with the polite pleasantries and tell me straight to my face if I look like hell.”

The corner of Joowon’s mouth quirks. “You could use a haircut. And a shave.”

“What, the grown out prison look isn’t dashing on me?”

“… You did just ask me to tell you the truth.”

Jeongje laughs. Han Joowon is still honest to a fault, albeit softer and warmer around the edges—less prickly and more receptive to teasing.

Gentler.

Happier.

It’s amazing what a year can do to a person.

How it can change them.

Jeongje decides to test the limits of how much he can actually tease the younger man. “So, Lieutenant Han. How’s your dear old father?”

Joowon arches an eyebrow. “Still in prison. How’s your sweet old mother?”

Jeongje grins at the way Joowon gives it as good as he gets. It’s the one defining aspect of Joowon’s that he’s glad has never changed. “Still in prison.”

He can see the way Joowon struggles to keep his face impassive, and doesn’t miss the way Joowon clamps his lips together to fight the smile threatening to form.

A year ago, Jeongje could’ve never predicted this kind of humor as a coping mechanism in their shared trauma of having similar parents.

A year ago, Jeongje could’ve never even conceived of the notion that the one person he’ll end up having the most in common with—is Lieutenant Han Joowon.

He wonders what his therapist might think of it all. He resolves to tell her next time. He’s been talking a lot about the people of Manyang, after all.

Especially one person, in particular.

Jeongje brightens as Joowon pushes the carefully packed food containers across the table. He eagerly rummages its contents, eyes widening in delight at the sight of his favorites. The aroma is enticing, and it immediately makes his mouth water. “Jaeyi-ya’s specialties, I presume?”

It’s then that Joowon smiles, warm and sincere. “No better quality meat in the whole of Munju. Possibly even the whole of Gyeonggi-do.”

Jeongje meets Joowon’s eyes just then. There’s a pang in his heart at the realization.

Joowon is a regular at Jaeyi’s butcher shop now. The way Jeongje used to be.

Joowon, ever the profiler, must have seen something flash in Jeonge’s face just then, because Joowon’s own expression inexplicably gentles. “Yoo Jaeyi-ssi sends her apologies for once again being unable to visit.” Joowon clasps his hands together on the table and leans forward as pride—candid and genuine—colors both his face and his tone. “Her business is booming so much recently that she’s finally been able to provide her shop its much needed renovations.”

“I see,” Jeongje says quietly. “I haven’t seen it for myself just yet.”

Something in Joowon’s face falls then, and Jeongje gently shakes his head to forestall the unneeded apology already forming on Joowon’s lips.

Joowon is trying so hard, and Jeongje really can’t fault him for any of it.

“Like I said, Lieutenant Han,” Jeongje offers him a small smile. “After all this time, you can be honest with me now. You can give it to me straight if Jaeyi-ya’s still not ready to see me.”

After all, she isn’t the only one who hasn’t visited yet. 

Joowon regards Jeongje thoughtfully. He has always been a man of honesty, so he doesn’t bother to offer Jeongje a comforting lie. This has always been a defining trait of his, and Jeongje is glad to see that this aspect of Joowon’s character remains intact.

There are so few people of principle left, and Jeongje doesn’t think he can handle seeing one more person close to him being corrupted by the system.

(His own mother has been enough.)

However, it seems like Joowon also believes there’s no need for unnecessary cruelty either, so much to Jeongje’s surprise, he remains quietly contemplative instead.

This kindness, this consideration for other people’s feelings—this is slowly becoming new for Han Joowon.

He’s changing, Jeongje realizes in awe.

“I’ve brought more gifts for you,” Joowon announces instead as he reaches under the table for his own package.

“You have?” Jeongje raises his eyebrows as a smile slowly creeps across his face at the newfound ammunition to tease. “With how often you visit me and bring me gifts, Lieutenant Han, it feels like you’re courting me.”

Joowon shoots him a look of mild disgust. “You’re not my type.”

“Of course I’m not,” Jeongje grins. “I figured one of your requirements for a date is someone who’s not in prison.”

“… I can take this back, you know.”

Jeongje laughs. “Give it here, Lieutenant Han, since you already came all this way.”

Joowon heaves a long-suffering sigh as he grudgingly sets the box on the table. This huffiness, too, remains amusingly the same about Han Joowon, and Jeongje will always enjoy any opportunity to annoy him. 

Joowon makes it so easy after all. Jeongje imagines this is why everyone in Manyang enjoys teasing him too.

His heart clenches at the thought.

He pulls the box towards him and opens it.

He inhales sharply. For a brief moment, Jeongje forgets how to breathe.

He can feel Joowon’s gaze on him as the younger man explains. “I figured you must have run out of your stock of supplies by now.”

And because Jeongje will never, ever ask, he’s deeply, heartrendingly grateful when it’s Joowon who takes the initiative to softly add:

“Lee Dongsik-ssi helped me source the right materials, because he knows your art style the best.”

Jeongje swallows thickly as he gazes at the art set: sketchpads, pencils, charcoal, pastels, erasers, and the like. And to Jeongje’s trained eye, it all seems to be of top-grade material too, which seems like an unnecessary splurge for someone with a Lieutenant’s salary—especially because Jeongje knows the courts have currently frozen the Han family bank accounts and assets while Han Kihwan is still undergoing his appeals.

Jeongje doesn’t know what to do with the way the thought makes his chest constrict painfully, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“I—I’m not sure the guards will allow me to keep this.”

“Oh, they will.”

Jeongje’s gaze snaps up to Joowon at that. Joowon is only calmly watching him, but there’s steel in his eyes and a firm set of his lips at the surety of the declaration that Jeongje is forcefully reminded of the fact that Joowon is a Han.

There’s a quiet power emanating from Joowon that makes Jeongje thankful, and not for the first time, that Joowon has a moral compass entirely opposite that of his father’s.

Because this power of making people bend to his will—it runs in the Han family bloodline. And it seems like Joowon is no exception.

He just chooses to enact it differently.

Oddly, Jeongje finds a strange comfort in that thought: that children can turn out differently from their own parents.

He wills his hands to remain steady as he replaces the cover and sets it aside. 

Joowon blinks as he follows Jeongje’s movements. He gestures at the box. “Aren’t you going to check the contents more thoroughly?”

“I trust in the quality of your taste, Lieutenant Han. You have the best taste in the whole of Munju. Possibly the whole of Gyeonggi-do. And the entirety of Seoul. And—”

“Alright, Park Jeongje-ssi, there is no need for flattery.”

Jeongje grins. “Speaking of flattery.”

He’s amused at how he seems to have completely befuddled the great Lieutenant as he brings out his own offerings and places it on the table between them. “I actually have gifts for you, too.” He hesitates for a brief moment and plunges through the explanation before he can second-guess himself. “For both of you.”

Joowon looks at him. Jeongje knows he doesn’t have to clarify who the other person is.

“The one on top is for him. The one below it is for you.”

Joowon’s hands are steadier than Jeongje’s as he pulls the used sketchbooks to himself. He meets Jeongje’s gaze once more, and Jeongje smiles at the banked curiosity he sees there, tempered only by Joowon’s respect for privacy.

This, too, is new. 

Jeongje watches how Joowon is about to courteously set aside the top sketchbook and gently points out, “You can look through it too, Lieutenant Han. I don’t mind.”

There’s a tightness in Joowon’s shoulders that relaxes at that. Permission granted, Joowon acquiesces and carefully flips open the first sketchbook.

Jeongje sees the way Joowon’s eyes widen at the first page. He keeps on flipping, and his eyes keep on widening, and widening.

Suddenly awash by an insecurity that he hasn’t felt in a long time, Jeongje opens his mouth and is about to ask for Joowon’s thoughts on his work when Joowon himself beats him to it.

“These are incredible.”

Han Joowon’s defining aspect to his character has always been his unabashed and unfiltered honesty, and the quiet intensity of it knocks the breath out of Jeongje’s lungs.

“I can see why you fell in love with her,” Joowon murmurs as he slowly peruses all the pages Jeongje has painstakingly—lovingly—sketched, capturing different angles and profiles in shades of shadow and light. “Considering she is Lee Dongsik-ssi’s twin, there has never been any doubt about how beautiful Lee Yuyeon-ssi is.”

Jeongje stills, wondering if Joowon is aware of what he has just unwittingly revealed about his own heart.

This, too, is something he unexpectedly shares with Han Joowon, one that Jeongje could have never, ever predicted a year ago:

Falling in love with a Lee twin.

“I was afraid I would forget what she looked like,” Jeongje says quietly, and Joowon’s gaze drags up to meet his. He smiles at Joowon wanly, knowing that Joowon won’t ask about her—the way Jeongje won’t ask about her twin. “Ironically, my time here made me remember. My memory became sharper after I stopped all the meds.”

Something in Joowon’s gaze softens. “I’m glad.”

Not good for you, the way his mother would praise him before with her backhanded compliments.

I’m glad.

Bare honesty laced with a sincere kindness Jeongje has never been privy to, before. Han Joowon, a mere stranger just a year ago, is now genuinely happy for him.

He drops his gaze as his vision shimmers. This, too, is new.

“And then I thought,” Jeongje murmurs, “that because of me… her brother doesn’t get to have any more pictures of Yuyeonie.”

The silence settles heavily for a beat before Joowon speaks.

“The fault is not entirely your own, Park Jeongje-ssi.”

No sugarcoating, as expected. Han Joowon’s moral compass is indefatigable, and he won’t absolve Jeongje of his sins.

And yet—

Jeongje lifts his head, and sees mirrored in Joowon’s eyes the same heaviness Jeongje carries in his heart.

And yet… Han Joowon is willing to share the weight of the blame.

Even if it isn’t his to carry.

“I know this doesn’t make up for my sins even if I spent the rest of my life repenting for them.” Jeongje’s lips are trembling as he smiles sadly at Joowon. “It doesn’t matter, because this isn’t for me. This isn’t for my forgiveness.”

His gaze drops to the drawing on the open page in front of Joowon.

Lee Yuyeon, the 20-year-old bright young girl full of promise, the cherished gem of her parents and the apple of her twin brother’s eye, Manyang’s most promising future lawyer.

Jeongje’s first and last love.

Radiant, joyful, full of life. Forever untarnished in this charcoal image of her youth and happiness.

The only girl Jeongje has ever felt a love so pure for, like this.

“It’s for him. Because he deserves to see more of Yuyeonie, too.”

He looks up at Joowon.

“Dongsik-ah…” Jeongje swallows thickly. “He deserves to remember Yuyeonie like this.”

Joowon looks down at the sketchbook. His fingers skim the drawing paper, touch feather-light, as his fingers trace the outline of Yuyeon’s long hair.

Jeongje used to thread his fingers through her hair just like that, once upon a time. She would tilt her head up and close her eyes, long lashes settling on those rosy cheeks, and Jeongje would lean down and give her the kiss she’d wordlessly ask for.

He wished he had at least kissed her goodbye, that night at the deer farm, had he known it would be their last.

Joowon exhales slowly and gently closes the sketch pad. He settles it to one side.

Only one other sketchbook remains. Joowon opens it.

His hand freezes in mid-air as soon as he sees its contents.

And at that moment, Jeongje realizes how foolishly mistaken he and the rest of the people of Manyang had been for once judging Han Joowon as a soulless, cold little prince from Seoul.

Joowon slowly lowers his hand and settles it gently—lovingly—on the meticulously drawn artwork of Lee Dongsik.

Jeongje’s gaze follows Joowon’s movements as his shaking fingers trace over Dongsik’s hair, the shell of his ear, the crinkle in those eyes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, to finally linger on those plush lips as Dongsik smiles.

Jeongje hasn’t realized he’s been holding his breath. An inexplicable embarrassed warmth suddenly suffuses him; he feels strangely like a voyeur, like he isn’t supposed to witness something that should’ve been kept private.

Jeongje has never, ever seen anyone wear their heart so openly like this.

“I—” Joowon starts to say, and god damn the boy sounds so breathless. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

Jeongje stares. “What?”

Tremblingly, Joowon curls his fingers into a fist as he retracts his hand. “It must be borne out of your long history with him, to have seen him looking like this.” Joowon’s eyes are rueful when he meets Jeongje’s gaze—his smile sad. “I’ve never seen Lee Dongsik-ssi this way before.”

Jeongje looks down at his own drawing. There’s a tenderness in Dongsik’s expression that Jeongje has tried his best to capture to the best of his memory, especially because the startling image of it has seared itself onto his brain.

Thirty years of friendship, and it’s the very first time Dongsik has ever looked like that.

Jeongje drags his gaze back up at the other man. “Do you know what he’s looking at here?”

Joowon startles at the unexpected question, then shakes his head, frowning.

Han Joowon has always hated it whenever he realizes he lacks pertinent information, and it makes Jeongje gape at him in disbelief.

He doesn’t know. Han Joowon doesn’t know.

“Lieutenant Han,” Jeongje says slowly. “Dongsik-ah was looking at you.”

There’s an astounded, shell-shocked expression Joowon always has on his face when he discovers evidence that completely alters the theories of his investigation.

It’s the one he’s wearing on his face right now.

“What are you talking about?” Joowon quietly demands, his tone a strange mix of frustration and tentative hope that Jeongje can’t help but sympathize with.

It’s fascinating, really, how for a detective at the top of the game, Han Joowon has clearly missed all the clues.

“I was in love with Yuyeonie for ten years, you know.” A wistful smile touches Jeongje’s lips at the memory. “She got tired of waiting for me, so she was the one who made the first move.”

Jeongje rests his elbows on the table and leans toward Joowon. He juts his chin towards the sketchbook laid open between them.

“Her brother, unfortunately, isn’t as smart. She’s always been the brainy one of the pair.”

Joowon’s gaze flickers down. Slowly, he flips over to the next page. It’s another angle of Dongsik, this time with his head thrown back, his eyes crinkling in laughter.

The entire countenance of Joowon’s stiff posture visibly softens. Jeongje wonders if Joowon is aware of how his face mirrors the same tenderness and warmth captured in the charcoal image of the man he loves.

Jeongje knows this, because Dongsik is the same.

Because Dongsik’s eyes crinkle in happiness the same way as Yuyeon does whenever she used to look at Jeongje.

Jeongje intimately knows, more than anyone, how a Lee twin looks like when they’re in love, too.

“You, however, seem to have the brains to rival hers.”

Joowon’s eyes flits up towards him briefly in question. Jeongje smiles back at him wryly.

“You’re gonna have to do the smart thing, too.”

Joowon is quiet as he peruses each page, revealing more of Dongsik’s myriad of expressions. Like a detective examining crucial evidence, Joowon is studying each page more thoroughly, drinking every single detail.

It’s like he’s seeing Dongsik for the very first time.

Jeongje waits patiently as he watches Joowon process everything. Han Joowon always gets to the right conclusion eventually.

Joowon reaches the last page, and seeing that there isn’t anything more, closes the sketchbook.

The silence between them is heavily laden.

“I don’t think I’m as brave as her.”

Jeongje’s gaze is steady as Joowon hesitantly meets his eyes. And Jeongje could have never predicted this a year ago, for him to be the one to clearly see through all the masks:

Underneath all that brave posturing is an insecure little boy, one who has never quite felt he is good enough, after being convinced all his life that he clearly isn’t.

By his own family.

This, too, is something Jeongje understands far, far too well.

“You brought down your own father for him, Lieutenant Han,” Jeongje tells him softly, meaning it with all his heart. “You’re braver than anyone I know.”

Joowon looks at him thoughtfully for a long moment. Jeongje holds his gaze, letting the younger man look his fill, letting him take the courage he needs.

“So did you.”

Jeongje startles. Joowon tilts his head, and finally lets a gentle smile grace his lips, too.

“You brought down your own mother for him, too.”

Joowon places a hand over the sketchbook and caresses the cover knowingly. He isn’t looking at Jeongje, yet the words pierce through Jeongje’s ribs to land straight on his heart all the same.

“You love him, too.”

Jeongje has to abruptly look away. Honesty without reservation, impactful in its simplicity.

In its encompassing truth. 

Han Joowon always arrives at the right conclusion eventually.

Out of nowhere, Jeongje feels fresh tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision. “Not—”

To his horror, his voice suddenly cracks, and he inhales deeply to steady his breathing as he returns his gaze to the man in front of him.

It’s Han Joowon this time who is calmly letting himself be the anchor Jeongje needs.

“Not as well as you do.” Jeongje’s mouth trembles, his voice watery. “You love him the best.”

Han Joowon’s defining aspect to his character has always been his unabashed and unfiltered honesty. He has never seen the need to fill in silences with aimless denials or sweet lies.

So he doesn’t this time, either—and wordlessly accepts the simple truth of Jeongje’s statement.

It makes Jeongje smile.

He watches as Joowon carefully takes both sketchbooks, handling them like they’re something precious and fragile as he prepares to take them with him. He then reaches over to retrieve his own gift and slides the box in front of Jeongje once more.

“I’ve brought more coloring materials for you here,” is Joowon’s odd non-sequitur of an explanation.

Jeongje blinks. “Are you saying my drawings need more color?” Jeongje narrows his eyes as he clutches his chest in faux offense; he’s pretty sure he isn’t fooling Joowon in the slightest anyway. “Are you saying they aren’t good enough?” He teases, glad and deeply grateful to be back on familiar ground.

“Yoo Jaeyi-ssi is looking to decorate the windows of her butcher shop with flower stencils.” Joowon’s expression suddenly pinches, like he’s tasted something sour. “Something about livening up the place with color.”

The corner of Jeongje's mouth twitches. “You must be the minimalist and monochrome type. I can’t imagine you and Jaeyi-ya ever agreeing on interior design.” Jeongje grins. “Or anything else, for that matter.”

Joowon glares at him, unable to deny any of it. Jeongje laughs. “Why are you telling me this, Lieutenant Han?”

And Han Joowon, the brat that he is, only looks at Jeongje like Jeongje is dumb.

“Because she wants you to design the stencils for her.”

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Jeongje feels something painfully familiar flutter weakly inside his chest, like the quivering of a hatchling’s new wings.

And he wouldn’t have predicted a year ago for Han Joowon, of all people, to be the harbinger of that hope.

The hope for a second chance.

The hope—that he’s still welcome.

“And Lee Dongsik-ssi,” Han Joowon tells him with a smile, “wants to remind you that Lee Yuyeon-ssi’s favorites are balsam flowers.”

[ravenshavenn]

Why I think Snape is autistic

(as someone with autism and who also has other family members and friends on the spectrum)

(I don't want to generalise these are purely my observations and I hope I worded everything correctly, this is just my lil hyper-fixation dump meant for fun an not to be taken too seriously)

Firstly, Severus is always seen in his trademark long, dark robes which could be a way to cope with sensitivity to certain textures as he has clearly found something that works for him and he knows he likes, so why should he have to wear anything else?

He also keeps his hair long which could also be another sensory comfort for him as tying it up can keep it very far away from his face which short hair doesn't provide quite as well (from personal experience) or leaving it loose can create a nice feeling on a persons face or neck that some people with autism find comforting

Obviously Snape's favourite things are the dark arts and potions and he shows a deep knowledge of these subjects throughout the books and movies alike therefore these could be seen as special interests considering the amount of time and energy Severus puts into them

He's also shown to have a vast collection of various potion ingredients in jars and knows straight away that something is missing when Harry takes the Gillyweed

Severus also stims in potentially unnoticeable ways such as constantly fiddling with his hands, having his hands behind his back to clasp them together and picking apart leaves as a child

Social gatherings are clearly something that Severus finds difficult as he's not often seen at any besides supposedly mandatory events such as the Yule ball which could be because he finds them overstimulating from the noise, crowds, smells, lights, etc

Another potentially overstimulating thing for Severus could be light as he spends his time in the dungeons which aren't well lit and in other scenes where there is bright lights he immediately shuts them off such as when he takes over Lupin's defence against the dark arts lesson and also again in the prisoner of Azkaban a portrait asks him to put out his luminous spell and he complies as he walks away meaning he's just walking in the dark?! (Which is a total vibe tbh)

He's always been depicted as "strange", "wierd" or "lonely" as from his childhood Lily is his only friend and the vast majority of other characters seem to find him off putting and can't actually specify why they don't like him "the fact that he exists" but he's not shown to make much effort to expand his social circle so it seems as though he's either content with the situation or has given up on it

There is a lac of understanding shown for other peoples emotions throughout the books and movies alike for example the perceived "rudeness" towards students could definitely be a result of depression or something else but it could also be that he doesn't fully understand the impact that he has on them

Severus also experiences the "flat effect" which is when someone displays little to no facial expression, this is a trait that can be seen in autism, this is emphasised in the movies in particular but Severus in the books is also said to not show much emotion unless he's feeling incredibly extreme emotions "Don't call me a coward" for example is one of his infamous more emotional scenes but for the majority of the time his expressions aren't depicted in great detail or he simply isn't displaying any

Along with this he also has a fairly monotone voice, besides when he's extremely upset which again is a trait displayed by those on the autism spectrum

He doesn't seem to understand social rules particularly well for example he's unsure of how to communicate to Lily that she's a witch and accidentally ends up scaring her, not fully grasping that 11 year olds can't do everything he can regarding potions and becoming easily frustrated by them

Severus also clearly has a very strong sense of justice that he's willing to do almost anything to ensure is carried out such as spying for as long as he did which was definitely partly motivated by Lily but also (or I like to think) his intense black and white vision of right and wrong which Voldemort crossed when Severus fully understood everything that the death eaters stood for when they began hunting down Lily

[owosa]

Fascinated on the narilamb dynamic here (with og lamb I mean). Would Nari see og lamb giving someone else the crown as a betrayal? Would having og lamb be his supervisor sting less or more since lamb was never really his vessel? And how does og feel? Nari saved them, and he never betrayed them.

The dynamic of these two is very particular.

For the Lamb, the ex-god-turned-follower is basically like any other new member they have dealt with in their years in the cult. Difficult, yes, but it's not like they haven't met before some new followers who need to spend a few days in prison. Narinder on the other hand, oh boi, this cat sure has things to say about it. While his early stay in the cult is characterized by humiliation after humiliation, nothing makes his blood boil more than the "betrayal" of the lamb. Because while it irritates him greatly that all this time they've been here living the high life, it's a huge blow to his ego that he hasn't noticed the exchange.

That the lamb is placed as his supervisor is nothing more than another trampling on what is left of his pride. No one in the cult respects him, because no one in the cult was raised to respect him or even fear him. Now, stripped of his power, it's not like he can do much… Of course, he tried a couple of times, but a couple of baths in the lagoon were enough for him to calm down.

It took a while, but his silent rage slowly transformed into resignation and finally, into conformity. The lamb was never cruel or malicious in their interactions (of course they laughed at him and still do), but for what it could have been, a peaceful life dealing with children is not as unpleasant as he first thought.

Regarding the last thing you say in the ask, I must be honest, I laughed a lot and all I could think of was this meme:

"Saved" is a big word for someone who is partly to blame for why they were sacrificed in the first place.

A bit of context about it is here.

[lightandfellowship]

Things that really get my gears turning with regards to Xehanort visiting La Cite des Cloches pre-DDD:

Xehanort visiting it directly after the MoM's speech to him about "false light" and misguided love, and this causing him to finally grapple with his conflicted feelings towards Player. Specifically when observing what Frollo has been doing to Quasi all his life (aka imprisoning him away from others with claims of "it's for your own protection.") Maybe it's after visiting this world that Xehanort starts to refer to his childhood home as a "prison". <- Also could tie into YMX telling Sora his heart is a prison in DDD. Like I know it was Sora or someone else who said the line first but when YMX repeats it back to Sora I gotta imagine he's also thinking about his own relationship to "prisons".

The dramatic irony of Xehanort looking at Frollo and not realizing that he himself is going to become a Frollo later in life. "Judge Claude Frollo longed to purge the world of vice and sin / And he saw corruption everywhere except within."

Also my god the Frollo + Quasi, Master Xehanort + Vanitas parallels. "Even this foul creature may yet prove one day to be / Of use to me."

I'm also thinking about how Frollo was the one to name Quasimodo and his name means "half-formed". Xehanort's name can be an anagram of X and "no heart". And also there's Xehanort giving Vanitas his name, which is a word associated with death and futility. Just a bunch of characters being given demeaning names lol.

Going back to the "false light" stuff, I feel like Frollo is one of the best examples of that among the Disney villains. As Xehanort says to the MoM after his world tour: "They believe themselves to be moral and virtuous, but it's all an act." So if you needed Xehanort to see "false light" in action, this world is just perfect for that.

Please. Imagine. One-on-one Xehanort vs. Frollo boss fight (Frollo can wield the sword from the end of the movie). And then maybe in the second phase Frollo summons a Heartless minion to fight alongside him like the Clayton + Stealth Sneak boss in KH1 (depending on if the Emblem Heartless are still inexplicably around after KHDR, I guess. If not, we can just have the first phase and nothing else). Xehanort is like "Look, okay, yes, maybe I am partially beating you up as a means of venting some of the complicated feelings I have towards my guardian, but also you in particular just suck, you're a danger to everyone around you, and I want you gone from this world forever." And then this marks the second time that Xehanort has just straight up murdered a guy who also happens to represent what he'll become later in life (he is, unfortunately, starting to grow numb to the sensation).

Honestly, realistically, it would probably make more sense for Xehanort not to interfere with the worlds at all, but...I just really want more one-on-one Disney villain boss fights in these games.

Like, seriously, in a theoretical KHDR sequel, this world would probably be my #1 pick just because there's so many layers to its relevancy.

[cossmoluck]

FINALLY finished this

turns out soon means one week+ in my little lizard brain, that's cool

anyways!!! meg

megalo don content,,, food

also, as a treat for making myself take so much to finish this, some of my AU lore rambling thing under the cut (warning, pretty long)

in my design, most of his exterior Nitro armor is removable, being an extension of the augument inside his body, which pumps Nitro both through his lungs and bloodstream, crossing from front to back through his torso. His tubes would be attached to certain openings around his body, which could also have 'lids' put on for safe closing. Every area where the Nitro pumps directly into his body would have 'Nitro burn'- a less proeminent glow than the one in his fueled up form. I, as many others also do, like to think that his mask actually comes off (I haven't drawn him unmaksed yet, but I'll get to that too eventually). One headcanon I have is that when you take his medallion in game, what you take is actually his mask and use it.

For his body I went for a slightly leaner strongman build, as he doesn't seem way too bulky in his non-fueled form, but he's still considerably bigger than most others. I tried to give him a 'scarred shark' look, and gave him burn scars on one arm from a misfiring Nitro Fist hit accident

also his hair look so so fluffy in game and for WHAT

(note, this is all to be taken as an AU. i am by no means well versed enough in Fortnite lore to make something close to canon or actual on point headcanons lol,,, tl;dr at the bottom!!)

i feel like the whole theory with Meg and big chuggus being somehow related is true, but not necessarily in the way others present it usually i don't think they're snapshots of each other in any way, i just think that they've been basically created 'for the same purpose', maybe in the different 'realities?' I'm not 100% sure how the zero point reset worked considering Midas was technically the same and all

so let's say Chaos had created the Slurp legends and Slurp creatures back during the GHOST/SHADOW conflict i like to think that Meg might have been created sometime during then too- a more refined variant of the technology used on big chuggus, enough for him not to end up as brain dead as big chuggus himself (sorry big chuggus)

Megalo Don could have been a fleet leader for the naval forces, as he has an overall very reoccurring military theme with his insignia and stuff. Maybe he was hired by Chaos to aid him and willingly allowing Chaos to modify him into the 'perfect leader', boosted by slurp into near perfection I believe his Oasis style would be what his 'original' look was, with Slurp coursing through his pumps instead of Nitro

so how did he turn into the Meg we know? during the GHOST/SHADOW conflict, his crew got destroyed, probably, and they somehow ended up punished to the Pandora's Box, but not dead like Midas, just punished there I like to think that there is not only one Pandora's Box, technically, and that they're basically some sort of even higher security 'prison' for things deemed disasters under certain circumstances, putting mortal beings into their own personal hell. The ones imprisoned in the Pandora's Box arent necessarily 'dead', like shade Midas in the Underworld, but they're not alive in the full sense either. This particular Nitro filled Pandora's Box sprouted there, leaving behind veins of pure Nitro in the depths of the earth through which the Box had erupted.

in the Pandora's Box, stuck in an infinite purgatory loop of fighting and dying, the slurp that fueled his crew quite literally rotted into Nitro, and Megalo Don himself basically 'rusted' from the rot. The Nitro, essence of death, in a way, compared to Slurp, slowly and surely altered Meg's brain, turning him from a calculated leader into a terrifying tyrant, with nihilistic views regarding his crew and conquest, as he saw them all die over and over again… Another case of 'rotten' slurp beings being Sludge, maybe, as he could perhaps be read as a Slurp creature gone 'bad' (slurp to nitro)

Meg's mind got clouded with the only thing he could comprehend anymore- Nitro coursing through his veins, through his ship, through anything in the living hell he experienced in the Pandora's Box. (Ultrakill flesh prison sounding aah) Obtained by conquest or murder, with destruction being the only method he could even comprehend using to get it, his very life seeming to depend on Nitro at that point, and being released into the world again brought him bo purpose than to seize back all of his Nitro and keep fighting more and more

after he and his crew escaped from the Pandora's Box, Meg had intercepted a boat droning the Island from SHADOW, which had went to scout out Helios after Midas' escape from The Underworld, unaware of the Pandora's Box opening right then, and getting caught in the sandstorm. Meg had just the luck to capture Chaos (or a snapshot), the very man who had taken away his humanity and turned him into a (now) Nitro-fueled beast. From them he also took the island plans, which helped his crew settle in as fast as they did, the Redline Rig digging for Nitro the very moment they got there and the Nitrodrome building itself over the abandoned Fencing Fields, repurposing the fizz machinery there into the dome's car destruction traps

i also like to think that Meg has a father/daughters bond with Scarr and the Machinist, with the Machinist maybe being one of the original scientists on Chaos' team, whom had helped him stabilize his new equipment at the time, and Scarr being a dedicated member of his fleet since before getting banished into the Pandora's Box. Initially, both Scarr and the Machinist would have admired him for his courageous leadership and respected him as a leader, but through their decline in the Pandora's Box, their found family bond only strengthened, with the two of them being probably his only subordinates he actually cares about

i also like to imagine that he had made most of the transmissions particularly silly in hopes of having them tune in on either patrol or at the Nitrodrome and make them laugh with the over the top commentary

tl;dr: i headcanon megalo don as an ex-slurp legend made by Chaos who had rotted to nitro in the Pandora's Box. His Oasis style is what he looked like pre-Box. Also the Mechanist and Ringmaster Scarr are his found family daughters

[z0-ne]

Could you write a bold beauty and shy beast idea with broly, please.

YES YES ABSOLUTELY YES! I might've gotten a LITTLE carried away but I still hope you like it! Sorry it's so late!

A Shy Beast? (!Bold! Beauty reader! x !Shy! Beast Broly!)

                       

The only reason you remain in the village is because of your father, but at this rate, he is far too sick to be of any help. You are unwed, and you do what you can to scrape pennies off the ground and feed both you and your father. Although now the man is a mere shell of what he used to be, he fights every single day to ensure you are safe at his side. Even he knows that the only reason you have yet to be forced to the streets is because he still draws breath.

“My darling angel, every breath I take is for you. Please, don’t waste precious moments with me, enjoy your youth, take your time, and find another who will protect you better than I could protect your mother…” Your father says his frail, bony hand cupping your cheek, gently caressing just under your eye. You stare down at him with a sad smile.

His cheeks are sunken, he has bags under his eyes, and you have no idea how he manages to even reach up to caress your cheek right now let alone open his eyes. He loves you, more than anyone ever could just by staying alive for you he proves it every day, the least you could do was return his love by taking care of him.

“Save your energy, please Father. Even now, there is nothing I’d rather do than stay home, and read books at your side.” Leaning into his hand, you find a small amount of warmth, not as much as there was when you were a child. When he would tuck you in after reading you a book, caress your cheek, and kiss your forehead goodnight.

You close your eyes and go back to those moments, it was almost enough to bring tears to your eyes. Once you open them, your father has fallen asleep, something he does frequently now that he has gotten so old. Although you don’t mind, you get up, grab the covers, and lift them to cover his shoulders so he will remain warm. Then you throw on your cloak and grab your change, preparing to leave for more groceries.

This…happened exactly four– no six hours ago, early in the morning when the birds were singing, the sun seemed brighter, and everything had gone…too well.

You were strong-spoken, and far too headstrong for everyone in the village's liking. Despite the disapproval of many in the village, you were also blessed with great beauty and were widely regarded as the fairest in the land. However, this outward charm belied several flaws that the village folk found distasteful. For example, you had an unusual habit of reading, which was not common among others in your village especially the young girls you were determined to share this love of learning with. Those same young girls were often forced to do their family's laundry instead of attending school or playing with their peers.

Your outspoken nature often brought you into conflict with the men of the village, who found it difficult to tolerate a woman who refused to be silent or submissive. On one particular occasion, you had berated and cursed a drunken man for making unwanted advances on a young woman. While the woman was grateful for your intervention, many of the villagers looked at you with hatred and judgment. Despite this, you never found yourself one to shy away from confrontation when presented to you, nor have you backed down from your word.

These are not the reasons you stand trapped in the carriage, locked away as a sacrifice of sorts from those villagers you have never once seen as friends or even as acquaintances. No, you sit as a prisoner- well, more as a sacrifice, because you rejected a marriage proposal from the village “Hero”, although he’s more of a brute to you. It was cold, the most heat you felt right now was the fire burning from within you as you beat your fist against the iron bars in that window, struggling to hold back tears.

“Turles! You retched Bastard! You killed my father!” You shout for the umpteenth time tonight, and that bandit, that barbaric monster turns to you and laughs. He lets out a roar of laughter from the deepest pit of his stomach, and the others follow suit, all finding amusement in your grief.

Some of the older women looked at you, others cheered along. Younger women looked on with sad eyes full of pity or sympathy, understanding that no matter how loud you screamed no one would believe you. Especially not now that your father was no longer at your side, your word meant nothing.

“Look at them! Just as mad as that stubborn old buffoon! Letting his spawn learn to read, a disgrace he is! Sulling such beauty with foolish Ideals!” His tone of voice goes from laughter to straight mockery as he turns to the crowd and then glances back at you, taking several steps towards the carriage he puts on a show of them taking you away.

Throwing his hands up, he smirks as the crowd cheers before he even lets out a word, and all you can do is scowl through your teary vision. “The monster's master demands a bride, in exchange for a lifetime’s worth of protection from its deathly claws! It is just our luck, we have found a suitable unwed bride fresh for the taking! One of many that is!” He says, and you aren’t stupid. He threw that last part in on purpose as if it wasn’t enough that he had your father murdered, but his insistent pursuit of your hand in marriage was enough to make your stomach churn.

You cannot bear it any longer, you grip the bars of the carriage as they prepare to bring you to what you can assume to be your demise. The first thing that came to mind was your beloved father’s smiling face, fading into his corpse as it swung from the ceiling. “Curse you! Every last man, woman, beast! I curse you down to your graves!  My father… he did not deserve the fate you forced upon him! Turles, you coward!” You shout, and the crowd goes quiet, especially once they see that Turles is no longer smiling. Instead turning to look at you, eyes wide with fury, mouth partially agape. 

Knowing that you affected him so much, brought you some satisfaction, but knowing your fate wasn’t enough. Especially when he turned and started laughing again, this time harder than before, and once again… the men laughed with him. It wasn’t fair, watching him laugh at your pain once again, brush off your words as if they meant nothing as if a simple no didn’t result in him committing murder.

You shut your eyes, turning your head away from the scene you could hear Turles jump onto his horse, and you felt the carriage begin to move. You leaned back in the seat, there was nothing left but to accept your fate.

“The foolish tramp calls me a coward, and yet has lived with one their whole life! Those books have clearly done nothing for them if they can’t tell the difference between a hero and a coward!” He boasted as he hopped onto the stallion, and spewed more nonsense, how he’d save the village no matter the cost and be the hero once more. Then he slapped the horse's handles down onto it and you all began riding away.

The majority of it was filled with silence, and it bothered you to no extent. Then again, hearing Turles’s voice would not have helped ease your mind, so you simply listen to the wheels as they trudge through the rough roads, which smooth out temporarily as the laughter from the village dies down at last. Your eyes remained shut, and not once have you opened them as you sat by the window, the breeze not comforting in the slightest.

The last thing you expected to see when you returned home just an hour ago, was to see your father hanging from the ceiling, Turles and some of his lackeys standing there, mocking looks on their faces as they goated about you having nobody left to protect you from the fate of the streets. You remember, how your heart sunk to your stomach, how you sobbed and shoved them out of the way, falling to your knees you sobbed at your father's swinging feet, crying out to him, hoping it was some cruel joke. 

You can only Imagine how they celebrate your “sacrifice.”. Drinking, laughing, dancing, etc. The fun they have at your expense is sickening, but not nearly as sickening as Turles’s gaze as he stares at you while you all ride along the trail leading to the “life:” that awaits you. You don’t expect him to say anything.

Unfortunately, he moved closer to the carriage on the horse and knocked on the bars. “Look at me.” He says as if he has any nerve to be frustrated when he takes everything from you. You didn’t budge, and you could feel the anger radiating off of him as his eyes glared holes into the side of your head.

“ if you’d just agree to be my bride… I could make this all go away. You return to the village, stop with those useless teachings, and be a proper wife. We’d make incredible children, and I could just as easily find a harlot on the side of the road to put in your place.” He whispers through gritted teeth, trying to make his words sound sweet but you know the threats behind them. Marry me or die, it’s as simple as that. 

There was nothing subtle about him saying he’d pluck some poor woman from her home, probably the next one to reject a man’s proposal or advances. It made you sick to think about how easy it was to just throw some poor woman to the wolves as if they were cattle to trade for goods.

He took your silence for what it was, rejection. He banged his fist against the iron bars. “You stubborn wrench!” he berated you once again, and the road further away from the cart. Leaving you to your thoughts.

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

Once you all inevitably arrived at your new hell, you finally would open your eyes, once they ripped you from the carriage seat, the first thing you did was slap the first lackey you were closest to. His head snapped to the side, and before he could lash out and possibly beat you till black and blue, you were grabbed and dragged away by another. 

Looking up, you see the ancient yet beautiful stone walls towering above you. As the carriage gets closer, you notice the intricate details carved into the stone, depicting mythical creatures and intricate patterns. The castle gates are made of heavy wood, covered in vines and moss, giving it a sense of age and mystery.

‘How long has it been since anyone has been here?’ you think to yourself and can hear Turles stifle his mocking laughter. 

As you enter the courtyard, you're surrounded by a variety of trees and shrubs that have grown over centuries. The castle's towers stand tall and proud, with peaked roofs and flags fluttering in the wind. The castle's exterior is weathered, but it's easy to imagine how magnificent it must have looked in its prime.

You stop at the front gate, and suddenly it feels…colder. A drop in temperature, and you felt chills go down your spine, whatever was in here… it was terrifying. The sudden stop must have made him want to try again, because soon you’d feel Turles lean over, his breath at your ear as he whispered. 

“Just say the word… you’ll marry me, and I’ll have them turn around and bring you back, and you’ll even have the honor of burying your beloved father.” He says as if his words would change your mind for even a second. 

The castle's grand entrance is adorned with a large wooden door, embellished with intricate carvings of knights and dragons.

He was met with silence, and you didn’t spare him a glance, which seemed to anger him further. He grabbed your arm and began to yank you further towards the castle doors, banging his fist against the door, his grip was so tight it felt as though it would bruise. “Open up! I have your bride so open the door!” He demands, a smug smirk growing on his face once the doors creak open, seemingly on its own. 

He was quick to throw you inside, laughing at you once you stumbled over your feet and your knees kissed the ground. You glare at the ground, refusing to look at him, his face would do nothing but upset you more.

 As you find your footing and stand up to look around, you're greeted with high ceilings and a grand staircase leading up to the upper levels. The walls are lined with tapestries depicting battles and scenes from the castle's history, while the floors creak beneath your feet while you begin to walk around.

At some point, you hear odd...clinking noises, as if something metal fell and just kept falling over and over again, it was hard not to hear it when you were in a large castle, seemingly empty of any life at all. So you were reasonably surprised when you heard a rather gruff, deep voice coming from someone.

“Ah, you must be the one they've sent to wed my son.”. You look around, trying to figure out just where that voice is coming from, and as your eyes scan the seemingly endless halls, you can’t find out where it is coming from. There was nobody there except you.

“Ah, yes. Down here, dear. Look down.” You heard the voice again and repeated tapping sounds as you looked down, a bit confused by the noise and the voice you were hearing. So when you spotted a…

Pendulum clock?

‘What an odd clock…it’s holding a candle, it could be a fire hazard.’ You think to yourself and reach down to grab the Pendulum clock, pick it up, and place it somewhere else, or hopefully use it as a source of light, after all,  it was dark in the castle.

Before you could even wrap your fingers around it, you noticed a face on the pendulum clock, odd. It was wrinkled, like an old man, and the arrows of the clock were twisted to form a mustache and a large scar right over his left eye. 

“Ah, they’ve sent my son quite the beauty. I’m sure you’ll do fine by his side.” The clock’s mouth began to move, and you found out where the source of the voice was coming from. As fast as you went to pick it up, you were even faster to let it go.

You let out a loud screech as you dropped to the floor and began to scurry away from the thing. Eyes wide, mouth agape and ready to unleash a loud blood-curling scream but nothing would come out from you, as if your voice had been ripped from your throat, preventing you from screaming. 

Quickly, you scurried off the floor and to your feet, rushing to the exit with hopes of escape. ‘To hell with the village! They could burn it down for all I care! They’ve killed my father, made a mockery of his name, and sent me off! I’ll save myself before I risk my life for their sake!’ You think to yourself as you bolt for the door.

The sound of your footsteps echoed loudly down the hallway, growing louder and more frantic with each passing second. The rapid pace of your feet created a rhythmic pounding sound that echoed off the walls, filling the air with an urgent energy. The sound of shoes slapping against the hard floor was accompanied by the rustling of clothing and the occasional gasp of breath, creating a symphony of noise that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire castle.

 As the clinking noises of the pendulum clock got closer, the sound grew more intense, accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional muttered curse. “Come back! Wait! I am harmless!”

 The sound of the damn pendulum clock was unmistakable, conveying a sense of urgency and purpose that was impossible to ignore. It was a sound that demanded attention, a sound that could strike fear into the heart of anyone who heard it, something so small..was terrifying. What if it cursed you? Or set your clothes aflame with the candle it was holding?

Then you just so happened to turn to see how close, or far it was from you and you were happy to see it wasn’t close anymore. ‘Good! I’m not far from the door either!’ you think to yourself as you run and turn your head.

Unfortunately, just as you turned to look ahead you were met with a hard yet fleshy surface, running into it hard, you stumbled back, nearly falling had you not caught yourself. As you paused, the clinking got louder as did the voice.

“Ah! Broly! My boy, nice timing. Now, do be a gentleman, and take your future partner to their temporary room until we get your shared living quarters in order!” He says, and you immediately begin to mentally question who or what he was talking to. 

That was until it- or he responded.

“A-Ah…yes father…” A rather gruff, deep voice coming from whatever you bumped into caught you off guard. You looked up, and as the talking pendulum clock got closer, you were able to see better. 

You were able to see a well-sculpted body,, the torso, the muscles rippling, rock hard as you experienced first-hand when you first ran into them, the chest littered with different scars.  His left bicep had a scar, and he had an "X"-"-shaped scar on his left pectoral reaching over his left shoulder and two smaller ones on the upper-left of his abdomen, which is his most notable feature. his skin somehow tanned despite there hardly being much sun out here. 

His hair and eyes were pitch black, as black as coal. His hair was spiky, split down the middle reaching his mid-back with short bangs framing his forehead it was overgrown and wild like an ungroomed dog, and his face…

Well, it was stern and intimidating. He has a scar across his left cheek, his lips stuck into a stern frown, and his eyes glare down at you as if you were something so insignificant to him. He towers over you, and his muscles are so large there is no doubt he could crush you without thinking twice.

Your feet are glued to the floor, fear piling up within you as you are left to stare at this absolute beast of a man. There was no way you could falter, even though everything in you was screaming run. Even if you tried to take a step, he was faster which was demonstrated by how quickly he grabbed you.

Wrapping two hands around each of your arms, he lifted you off the ground in a rather awkward position. He was holding you away from him as if he was someone incapable of carrying another person. His expression didn't help much either.

Flustered, you began to shout and curse at the beast. “Unhand me! Let me go you brute!” Kicking your feet, screaming, and just overall being difficult as he begins to make his way up several flights of stairs, not saying much but he does some grunting as he tries not to drop you. 

“I said unhand me! curse you!” Your body listens to your mind for once and begins to violently thrash and do whatever it takes to force him to let go, unfortunately, it doesn’t work, and he inevitably makes it to your bedroom.

Still holding onto you, he grunts as you kick and squirm against his hold. He sits you down on the bed, he just looks at you as you huff and glare up at him, looking around the room for a second as he avoids your gaze, then runs out. Shutting the door behind him.

“What the-” You start, but scoff in annoyance as you bury your face into your hands. ‘Ugh��I’m sorry father…but there’s no way I’ll find someone to protect me better than you did…I’m alone…’ You can’t help but get a bit teary-eyed at the thought of it all. Your beloved father…oh if he could see you now… you feel like he may be disappointed.

“Oh come on! Don’t cry- I mean I’m sure you’ll warm up to the place eventually!” You snapped your head up when you heard a rather feminine voice come up all of a sudden. Looking around you take notice of the room.

The room was a breathtaking display of elegance and luxury. The walls were painted in a soft shade of cream, and adorned with intricate gold leaf designs that added a touch of sophistication. The tall windows were dressed in floor-to-ceiling silk drapes, which cascaded down in gentle folds, allowing the sunlight to filter through and adding a warm glow to the space. The plush carpet underfoot was a deep shade of burgundy, adding a pop of color to the otherwise neutral palette.

In the center of the room sat a grand, ornate chandelier, with a dozen crystal arms that sparkled in the light. The furniture was equally impressive, with a large four-poster bed covered in silk sheets and plush pillows, fit for a king or queen. A matching vanity table with a gilded mirror. 

Finishing touches such as fresh flowers in a crystal vase, and a tray of tea added to the overall ambiance of the room. The air was scented with a delicate fragrance of jasmine and rose due to the tea in the cup, making it feel like a haven of tranquility and relaxation. This room was undoubtedly fit for royalty and anyone who desired the epitome of luxury and elegance.

You shook your head and sighed. “Oh god…I’m losing it, what’s next? Is the Candelabra gonna talk too?” You say out loud, not expecting an answer to your sarcasm.

The golden Candelabra hopped around, it was decorated with dragons engraved on the gold and some curving to make the arms of the candelabra, once it turned you saw a rather humanoid face engraved in the wax of the Candle. 

“Well yes! Now- don’t get all down, Broly is a sweet fellow!-” It’s safe to say,  your mouth fell open in shock, and the Candelabra was lucky enough to jump before the pillow you slung at her knocked her off the table.

“Oh! Good, he needs someone bold!” She says as if you weren’t actively trying to kill her. Still, she talked to you with no problem while dodging your murder attempts, even when you threw a brick at her.

“Oh come on, Broly is sweet. I’m sure you’ll love him eventually, he’s a little gruff but-” You snapped and interrupted her mid-speech while she was talking up the Beast you had to lose everything for.

“That’s ridiculous! If he’s such a good “man” then why did that beast lock me in this cell?! Why did he threaten the village to burn it down if they didn't send a bride!? For all I know he’s a bastard!” You shout fist balled up in frustration as you glare at the Candelabra. Then you picked up the Candelabra

“W-wait a second- at least give him a chance! I can expla-”

Before she could finish the sentence, you tossed her down but she was caught by a nearby table, you backed away, spotted the window, and made a beeline for it. “To hell with your explanation and that blasted village!” You say and just before you could get to the window, running right towards it, you were suddenly yanked up.

“Y-You can’t leave!” Some odd voice shouts and you are shoved into what seems to be a walk-in wardrobe, the doors closing around you and locking you inside no matter how much you banged against the doors and cursed.

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

This, would not be your first attempt at escaping. Even Cheelai could tell that much, so she congratulated the wardrobe for capturing you and then hopped off to have several conversations with the pendulum clock and someone named Lemo.

“Just what were you thinking Paragus?! You threatened the village to send a bride!? The curse will never be lifted now!”

“Don’t question my methods, you know nothing!” the pendulum clock now known as Paragus shouts back at Cheelai who hopped forward and would’ve started a fight had it not been for Broly putting his hands between the two to stop them.

Lemo is a very pretty white teapot decorated with koi fish wrapped around it as if they were swimming in the paint. The handle at the top of the pot was citrine, a pretty top handle. “Come on you guys, Give them a break! I’m sure they’ll warm up eventually. Broly just needs to tap more into his romantic side! How about you try and get to know her! Just observe.”

Lemo has a pretty good suggestion, unfortunately, he didn't have a lot of brains to work with other than yourself and the awkward beast you were supposed to be seduced by.

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

You, of course, would try to escape...numerous times. First by climbing out the window, which was foiled each time you did it, from Paragus having thee other servants pull you back up by the sheets you used as a rope, to Cheelai and Lemo trying to melt the seal so you couldn’t get out anymore, it was recently foiled when Broly caught on and started occasionally flying outside your window which you took as a threat.

Then there was the time you tried to sneak past the wardrobe but it blocked the door, you also tried to shove it, and that obviously didn’t work. Throughout these little attempts, you got to know the three main…objects? More closely.

You like at least two of them, but Paragus is too pushy for you to find his presence comforting.

So far you refused to eat with Broly, who just sulks and walks away when you reject the offer. He hasn’t been exactly violent, but you don't appreciate him stalking you by the window. You look at the window and could see his wild hair duck down just before you could see his eyes peeking through.

Unfortunately, because of that, you have only been able to receive bread and water for a lot of meals, even breakfast, although the bread isn’t as stale as it is at dinner time, you assume it is because Paragus is in charge of dinner and he may be particularly upset you refuse dinner with his son.

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

One day- or night that is. You stayed up, later than the wardrobe for once and you were able to find a way to slip out of the room you had been locked away in for who knows how long now. Not once have you had a conversation with that beast, and you had no intentions of it either. 

‘I have to get out of here…’ You think to yourself as you begin to walk the halls, searching for an exit.

As you explore the castle's many rooms and hallways, you can see remnants of its former glory. The grand ballroom with its chandeliers and ornate decorations, the cozy sitting rooms with their fireplaces and comfortable chairs, and the elegant bedrooms with their four-poster beds and beautiful tapestries.

Despite its age, the castle still exudes a sense of majesty and beauty that is impossible to ignore. It's easy to imagine the many lives that have been lived within its walls and the countless stories waiting to be discovered.

Eventually, you find an unguarded door, or if it was guarded it had poor guards. You strain as you open it, grunting as you pull and pull only for it to budge ever so slightly. You were lucky you could slip through the space you were able to open.

Now that you were outside, You got a clear view of the area around you. The old forest was a desolate and eerie place, now made even more haunting by the blanket of snow that covered every inch of the ground. The snow was thick, almost knee-deep in some areas, and it muffled every sound, making the forest seem unnaturally quiet. The trees were gnarled and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers into the dark, starless sky.

The snow-covered branches creaked and groaned in the cold wind, creating an eerie symphony that echoed through the forest. The darkness was absolute, with only the faintest glimmer of moonlight filtering through the trees. The snow-covered ground was littered with fallen branches and debris, making it difficult to navigate.

As you walked deeper into the forest, the snow became deeper, and your feet sank further with each step. The trees loomed overhead, casting long shadows in the darkness. The silence was broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustling of some unseen creature in the underbrush that sent chills down your spine.

The forest had an otherworldly feel to it as if it had been frozen in time, untouched by the outside world for centuries. The snow-covered trees were like ancient guardians of some long-forgotten secret, and the cold wind whispered secrets that no one could ever hope to understand.

Despite the chill and the eerie silence, there was a strange beauty to the forest. The snow had transformed it into a winter wonderland, and the moonlight that filtered through the trees cast an ethereal glow over everything, giving it an almost magical quality. But the beauty was fleeting, and the overwhelming feeling of isolation and danger soon crept back in, reminding you that you were in a place where you didn't belong.

You could no longer see the castle, which coulldv’ebeen a good or a bad thing considering now you had no place to go. ‘Should I really have left?’ You couldn’t help but slightly regret leaving the comfort of such a luxurious castle behind. You quickly shake your head ‘No! They’re essentially my captors! Plus, that beastly man is a creep!’ You remind yourself why you souldn’t regret it.

Soon you heard a haunting and eerie sound, a low mournful howl that rised in pitch and intensity. It sent chills down your spine but you kept going, it wasn’t like you could stop just now. The raggedy cloak you had on would only get blown away if you stopped. You didn’t have a horse to ride on, so you had to go by foot.

As you kept hiking through the snow, the wind relentless as it nearly blew you off your feet a good few times, you heard another spine-chilling howl, but this time it broke into a series of short barks. You turned around slowly, only to see one grey…wolf sitting at the top of the mountain, staring dead at you. It barked, once, twice, and then several other wolves began to come by its side.

Clearly, they saw you, and it was even more clear what would happen when you saw what you assumed to be its leader lick its fur and start running down the hill, where the others would follow behind.

You felt your heart drop down to the soles of your frozen feet. This time you had no time to freeze up in place, you had to run or they’d likely tear you apart, you’ve read enough about wolves to know they were no friendly creatures when hungry, they were predators, and without any fire or any means of defense, you were prey.

Your feet picked up in the snow a lot more now, you were kicking it away and swiping through piles and piles of it. You could hear the growls and barks of the predators behind you, you could feel your lungs forcing air into them with every painful breath you took. The snow made running a lot harder.

While the wolves were used to this weather, you were not. You were used to warm weather, not being forced to run through giant piles of snow kicking up more snow with every heavy hurried step you make as you try not to fall.

The wolves are fast, agile, and determined. They are closing in fast, snapping their jaws and baring their sharp teeth. The person being chased can feel their hot breath on their heels, and they know that any misstep could mean a fatal end. The wolves are relentless, their eyes fixed on their prey as they chase them through the forest. You can hear the rustle of the leaves and the snap of twigs as you run, trying to stay one step ahead of the pack.

The wolves are fast, agile, and determined. They are closing in fast, snapping their jaws and baring their sharp teeth. The person being chased can feel their hot breath on their heels, and you know that any misstep could mean a fatal end.

Your only chance of survival is to keep moving, to find a way to outrun or outsmart the wolves. But the wolves are cunning hunters, and they are always one step ahead, always pushing their prey to their limits. You look back and your eyes seem to widen even more, these things…weren’t wolves... At least not any you’ve ever seen. They were bigger, not to mention their claws and teeth looked sharper, if you got caught then that would really be it for you.

As you desperately tried to get away, you would soon come up short, with your foot tripping over the other, you fell face first into the snow, rolling down a short hill as the wolves were quick to follow. 

Somehow, the situation, got even worse when you felt your ankle twist in a way that was nowhere near painless. You felt your stomach twist in a way that made you feel as if you’d throw up from the pain that suddenly jolted through your body, you felt it through your entire leg.

However, you knew you couldn’t scream, you could hear those “wolves” behind you, and all you could do now was curse in your mind and grab a thick branch beside you as you desperately tried to crawl away, only managing to scurry underneath a tree as the wolves grew closer.

By now you were growing dizzy from the pain, and the cold weather was getting to you, your breathing heavy and uneven as they approached. Their teeth large, yellow and bared, ready to tear you apart with them.

You swung the thick branch at the “wolves”, trying to scare them away but they growled at you, sensing you were hurt and would be easy prey. One lunged at you, and as it did, you saw its claw was about the size of your head. It would tear right through your skin and spill your blood onto the snow, leaving your dead body for the others to feast upon.

‘Is this…how I die?’ You think to yourself and you see your life flash before your eyes, and in an instant, it feels like it’s so short, like you haven’t even gotten a chance to start living yet. ‘I…don’t want to die!’ You think to yourself, and you raise the stick again, but before you can swing it, the “wolf” is kicked away with a force so strong that when it hits a tree the entire thing collapses.

Your breath hitched. What could have possibly had enough power to do something like that? These things were huge, clearly had more mass than a regular wolf and they were faster too. The pack was quick to back away, and as you looked at the ground, you saw who it was that managed something like that step infront of you.

Looking up, slowing you saw a muscular back, slightly scarred as if clawed by a monster that got lucky or desperate enough to land a futile attack. Although most of it was covered by wild black hair. 

“Broly…?” His name slipped out before you could stop it. He glanced at you, but he couldn’t get a word out before another one of those creatures lunged forward, aiming for you rather than him, but he grabbed it by the back of its neck, and threw it like one would throw a ragdoll.

The others don’t back down, they all start to jump at him but they seem no match for him as he casually slings them away, kicking the ones at his feet while the wind nips at your skin, another jolt of pain shoots through your leg and you feel your vision blur.

He was shaking them off like water, they tried to bite and scratch, but their teeth just barely pierced his skin, and their claws hardly tore through any wounds, drawing enough blood when they constantly tore at a wound that was already there. You could only watch in shock as he tore them off, teeth in his arm and all as he threw them to the side like their attacks meant nothing.

Had it been you in his place, they would’ve torn you to shreds. Even as he fights relentlessly, all you can do is sit behind as your vision cuts in and out. You try your best to stay conscious ‘No…he’s hurt…I shouldn’t…’. 

As his body slowly comes to a blur, your vision fades to black, and you can hear his grunts and heavy breathing along with the pained whines of those creatures as they get slung around like child’s play.

Eventually, everything dies down. You can hear heavy breathing, and a whimper followed by retreating footsteps. Soon, you hear a shift in the snow, and you force your eyes to flutter open even thou you could hardly see straight. When you manage to see something, it’s Broly’s face as he leans down.

He was less blurry than before and up close, his features somehow looked softer. More kind, and if it wasn’t for your dizzy vision you would’ve thought you saw a look of concern plastered on his face.

You feel your body slowly being shifted around, scooped up as you’re held in strong arms, ones that feel warm and make you feel oddly secure. Even as you feel another sharp pain shoot through your body from your ankle, causing you to whimper, you feel the hold loosen a bit but at the same time remain secure.

The last thing you hear are some muffled words and the sound of feet Trudging through the snow, likely taking you back to the Castle.

___________________________________________

“So…How did you find out I left?” You questioned, breaking the rather awkward silence as he wrapped your ankle with some bandages after applying medicine brought to him by Cheelai. After waking up on one of the rather nice luxurious sofas in a sitting room in the castle to Broly throwing some logs in the firepit and Cheelai hopping over to light it up, the two of you haven’t spoken a word to each other, until now that is.

“Ba came to my room, he saw you when you left,” Broly said, not taking his eyes off your ankle as he gently wrapped it.  He was so careful as if it would shatter if he so much as breathed the wrong way. After that, it was silent. The crackle of the firewood burning in the fireplace was the most noise in the room. It lit up the area nicely, but all you could focus on was Broly His features were softer, he looked focused, but also sad about something. You couldn’t exactly read his expression enough to find out what he could be sad about, but before you could ask, you quickly dismissed the thought, instead, you just looked at him admiring him like a piece of art.

Eventually, he was finished with your ankle, and gently placed it down. He stood up, and you got a good look at his body after the fight, some teeth marks looked bad, claw marks that seemed worse and would possibly get worse if not treated.

He tried to turn away and leave, but you couldn’t let him, before you could stop yourself, you reached out and spoke. “Wait!” Your words made him halt, as he slowly turned to look at you, and you sighed. “Please…let me treat your wounds. It's the least I could do..” You say as you move to grab the basket of medical supplies and place them in your lap.

He just stares at you for a moment, eyes slightly wide as if you were speaking in a foreign language. You patted the spot beside you, and after a while, he let out a soft grunt and turned his head away from you as he went to sit down beside you.  

The couch shifted a bit but he sat in a man spread and leaned his elbow on his knee, his head resting in the palm of his hand covering his mouth, but you could see the small blush dusting his cheeks.

‘How cute…’ You think a small smile tugging at your lips before you catch yourself and quickly shake those thoughts away. You look down and start to treat his wounds in silence, more focused on making sure he didn’t end up with an infection, afterall he saved your life, you owe it to him to at least treat his wounds.

“Thank you…for saving me I mean…and wrapping my ankle.” You say suddenly, once again you were first to break the silence, and he looked at you a bit shocked before he just nodded and turned away again, his face a bit more pink now.

After that, you let the silence linger, dapping his wounds with rubbing alcohol, and rubbing ointment on them so it didn’t get infected. Then you slowly started to wrap the wound, not wanting to tie them too tightly, afterall you didn’t wanna hurt the guy that just saved your life.

The soft crackle of the fire, a small yip of what you assumed to be Ba in the background. It made for an oddly cozy feeling, one that you read about numerous times but never got the chance to experience.

“Do you…Not like it here?” He suddenly speaks up, and you look at him, your hands stopping as you stare at him, in shock by what he said for a moment. “Huh?” You question, and he looks away again. “I just…why did you run away? Put yourself in danger? I don’t understand it.” He says and you thought he was more upset that you tried to leave until he said he was upset that you put yourself in danger. You didn’t say anything for a while, choosing a moment of silence to gather your thoughts.

“At least next time…Let me know. So I don’t have to worry about you like that…” He mumbles, your ears caught wind of his words and you look at him again before you go back to wrapping, but this time, you know what to say.

“I'm sorry-” He starts, but you cut him off. “Don’t be. It’s a Nice castle, but you have to understand…I didn’t come here of my own will, I was ripped from my childhood home and brought here to marry you. I don’t know anyone here, I don’t know you and yet I’m here to be wed to you.” You explain with a softer tone than even you expected to come out of your mouth. You never would've expected something so gentle to come from you of all people.

Continuing to wrap his wounds, you felt his gentle eyes on you the entire time. As if he was stuck in a trance, trapped staring at you while you focused on tending to his wounds, and after a while he spoke again.

“I didn’t know…and…I really don’t know you either…” He stutters over his words, finding it troublesome to speak when you look at him, making eye contact with him as you pause the process of wrapping a bandage around his arm. His heart felt like it was doing flips, you were just so pretty, as if you were sculpted by an angle, and your hands were so soft…

After a moment, he saw you tilt your head and tried to find his voice and make his words seem less…insensitive. 

“B-But, I’d like to…If you don’t mind.” He adds in that last part quickly, as if scared he would get a bad reaction if he missed even the smallest word. It was… appalling how a man as strong as him, a man that could destroy an entire village was tripping over his own words in front of you, his cheeks dusted a light pink as he switched from eye contact to avoiding your eyes. How could someone so strong be so nervous in front of you?

“No, I don’t mind at all…I’d like to know you too.” You say with a soft smile and you could swear you saw him melt then and there, like a light just twinkles in his eyes as his breath hitched and he just nodded.

“O-Okay…” He starts, but he runs out of words, so you speak up for him. “...Would you like to have dinner together?” You asked him and he nodded his head, You chuckled and looked down to continue wrapping his arm, the fire crackling in the background, but the silence wasn’t all that bad right now… actually it was quite comforting.

[roryelijah02]

Daryl's Cycle Of Feelings: An Analysis

On my most recent rewatch of The Walking Dead flagship show, I've come to notice a pattern when it comes to Daryl, in particular when it comes to his feelings towards Carol. I like to call this theory Daryl's Cycle Of Feelings and I will henceforth explain what this means in my analysis down below.

In my opinion, Daryl has been fascinated and intrigued by Carol since the beginning of the show. I think his romantic feelings for her developed quite early on, at least by the end of season 2. However, due to his past experiences and insecurities, it took him a while to realise what these feelings were and what they meant, let alone be able to build the courage and confidence to be able to act on them.

During season 3, there is a period of time when Daryl and the rest of the group believe Carol to be dead. Until he finds her in season 3 episode 6, Hounded, two episodes later, Daryl is heartbroken and full of grief, shown by how he leaves a Cherokee Rose on her makeshift grave and bravely prepares himself to put her walker down. I feel like he has a lot of regrets with regards to not telling her how he feels during this period of time. Then it turns out Carol is alive and Daryl realises he hasn't lost her after all but I think from this happening, he began to learn just how short life is, especially in the zombie apocalypse. He realises he needs to tell Carol how he feels before anything else happens and it's too late, so he begins to build up the courage to do so...

But then Carol gets banished from the group by Rick in Season 4 Episode 4, Indifference, and when Daryl finds out from Rick in season 4 episode 8, Too Far Gone, he's devastated because not only does he think he's lost her forever, he also realises he's lost his chance to tell her how he feels, again. I believe Daryl was all but ready to head out to go and find her but then the Governor attacked the prison and it was too late. When he reunites with Carol at Terminus, he believes he's been given another chance and the cycle starts over again. He's reminded how short life is (especially in the apocalypse) reminds himself he needs to tell her before it's too late and builds up the courage to do so...

But then he realises that something really bad happened whilst Carol was out on the road with Tyreese, Lizzie, Mika and Judith and just as he's considering whether now is the right time to tell Carol his feelings or not, the decision is made for him when she gets hit by a car and taken by the people of Grady Hospital in Season 5 episode 6, Consumed. When Carol is rescued from Grady, Daryl's cycle begins again. He reminds himself how short life is (especially in the apocalypse), reminds himself he needs to tell her and builds up the courage to do so...

But then they arrive at Alexandria and Carol, so caught up in her grief and trauma over what happened whilst she was out on the road with Tyreese and the girls, begins a fling with Tobin and begins to separate herself from Daryl and the rest of the group. She believes that she's not worthy of them and their love anymore and doesn't want to kill anymore, so she leaves and then not long after, the Saviour war happens. When the Saviour war is over, Daryl's cycle begins again. He reminds himself how short life is (especially in the apocalypse), he reminds himself he needs to tell her how he feels and builds up the courage to do so...

But then Carol becomes close to Ezekiel and Henry and gets into a romantic relationship with Ezekeil, eventually agreeing to marry him and Daryl being Daryl who is always going to put Carol first, puts his feelings to the side and selflessly gives Carol his blessing for her to marry Ezekiel. After Henry's death and the breakdown of Carol's marriage to Ezekiel, Daryl begins to think that maybe he has another chance and his cycle of feelings begins again. He remembers how short life is (especially in the apocalypse), he reminds himself he needs to tell Carol how he feels and he builds up the courage to do so...

But then the Whisperer War begins and Carol is overcome with grief over Henry's death, wanting to protect the people she loves and wanting revenge on Alpha and justice for Henry's death. Daryl realises that even though he is now at a stage where he's more than ready to tell Carol how he feels, it's not the right time for her to hear it. When the Whisperer War ends, Daryl's cycle begins again. He's reminded how short life is (especially in the apocalypse and after he's come the closest he's ever been to losing Carol in this war), he reminds himself he needs to tell Carol how he feels and he builds up the courage to do so...

But then the war with the Commonwealth begins and Daryl worries he's going to lose Carol again, this time to the hands of Lance Hornsby. But Carol survives and Daryl couldn't be more relieved. However, Maggie tells Daryl it's now time to start leaving the community and finding what else is out there and when Carol confirms she's opting to stay behind, Daryl's cycle begins all over again. He realises how short life is (especially in the apocalypse), he reminds himself he needs to tell her how he feels and this time, he realises, that with him going away and not knowing when he'll be coming back, that it's now or never and so he builds up the courage to do so and finally, at the last moment, he tells her he loves her and of course, she reciprocates.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

❤️ Loved By You ❤️

Summary; Eddie's ghost haunts Hawkins, Lovers Lake, The Hideout, the benches in the woods near Hawkins High, and especially the Trailer Park.

All your life you've heard of the poor souls who died in Hawkin's earthquake of 86.

Most passed on, Eddie wasn't so lucky he's been stuck in limbo for thirty-four years, fading in and out as time passes, trying to find companionship but failing.

That's until he meets you.

Love transcends death and happy endings can happen even when all hope seems lost.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. 18+, minors dni. Soulmate au

I don't give anyone permission to copy, repost or reuse my work.

If you enjoyed this pls consider reblogging, etc. It's much appreciated. ❤️

I hope you all enjoy it, it's a long fic and I hope you all love it as much as I do. ❤️✨

❤️

All your life you had heard about the great earthquake of 1986 that happened in Hawkins.

Every year the town held a vigil for those that died, your best friend's parents Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington held a special service along with Dustin Henderson and Robin Buckley for one person in particular.

Eddie Munson. The ghost of Hawkins, an urban legend whose name was whispered about by adults and whose legend was infamous.

Once accused of killing three high school students from Hawkins High, those of whom were in his (third) senior class.

Until Jim Hopper, Hawkin's most famous sheriff for a whole lot of things, the most amazing being coming back from the dead- or escaping the prison he was held at in Russia.

Anyway, Jim had cleared Eddie of any wrongdoing after his death, in fact, according to Dustin, and many others he had died a hero, helping save others during the earthquake.

Dustin told a lot of stories about Eddie, you'd heard a few when you hung out with Alice, it was bittersweet though because you could see how much pain it caused Dustin to talk about Eddie but he said he had to talk about him because he never wanted Eddie's memory to be forgotten.

You wondered what Dustin thought of the Urban Legend regarding Eddie's ghost. Over the years many people claimed to see Eddie, some were stoned, drunk or a little bit of both.

Others were curious, trying to find out if the tales of Eddie's ghost were true. Double dares to go deep into the woods and call out his name, mentions of the faint sounds of a guitar playing when everything was silent at The Hideout, the cave in Lovers Lake was a hot spot for activity too.

Some part of you yearned to know if it was true, even though the logical part of your brain dismissed it as nothing more than an urban legend.

Plus, you had seen how upset the rumours made Dustin, how much he hated that his friend was used as a laugh for dumb teenagers and even some adults looking for a scare.

Unfortunately, as much as you didn't want to entertain the rumours, some people were all for finding out if the ghost of Eddie Munson was real or not.

❤️❤️

Todd Carver was your ex and to say he was a dick was an understatement. You had dated him for two months and grew tired of his arrogant and boastful demeanour.

Graduation was fast approaching and you wanted more out of life than Todd and his asshole tendencies.

It was just your luck he was still part of your friend group however you did your best to avoid him.

He had been trying to get you to date him again but you just weren't interested.

You hear him goading someone and your stomach fills with anger when you notice its Dustin's son Ben.

He was exactly like his dad, you were very protective of him and follow Todd as he and his friends Calvin and Sam push Ben into the woods.

You can hear their laughter and it infuriates you.

"Come on dude, call out for Munson, didn't your daddy give you Eddie for a middle name? Talk about morbid man"

"Shut up" Ben snaps and you hear those morons laugh again as they tease Ben.

"Leave him alone!" you march up to Todd and he snorts.

"Come on Babe, we're just messing around" you glare at him. Steve said he was like his Uncle Jason in miniature, he didn't like to speak ill of the dead but apparently, Jason was an asshole, Todd was just like him.

"It's not funny Todd, Get lost asshole" Todd snorts.

"What? we just wanna know if Eddie Munson's ghost is real or not? What's wrong with that?" he replies innocently but his eyes are full of malice.

He imitates a ghost and at that exact moment, a branch falls and hits Todd, leaves fall on him and his eyes widen in shock and a small hint of fear.

"It's Munson! Let's get out of here" he rushes away with Calvin and Sam at his heels.

Ben smiles, relaxing as he watches them go.

"Thanks for helping me" You ruffle his hair and tell him to get back for his last lesson.

As he heads away you turn to look at the fallen branch and leaves and frown curiously. There's no wind? Was it an old branch or something else? Something spookier?

Then there's a voice behind you and you freeze on the spot.

"God, that Todd dude was a dick right?" when you turn around he's standing near the benches, arms folded across his chest.

His hair is wild, dark brown and long. Big brown eyes filled with annoyance, some of his tattoos visible and he's wearing a Hellfire t-shirt and jeans just like you saw in the pictures Dustin has on his mantelpiece.

What the fuck.

"He's related to Carver? Can spot that asshole smirk anywhere" Eddie grins at you.

"Shit, you're really... I thought you were a myth or some urban legend passed around by stoned guys and campfire tales" he snorts.

"I'm as real as it gets princess... The smile falls away from his lips, still very much dead though, which is shit"

You sit down on the bench feeling a little bit dizzy, you can barely believe what's happening.

"The branch" you ask faintly and he smiles, it's heart melting, all dimples and a hint of cheekiness.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Just that dick Carver. You dated that douchebag? Could do a lot better princess" you stare at him still processing everything.

"How did you know that?" he shrugs and sits beside you, the temperature drops a little.

"I'm a ghost, I hear all kinds of shit. Disappear for weeks on end, then come back again. It's confusing being stuck in this limbo world"

"I'm sorry" you reply feeling his sadness so acutely that it takes your breath away for a second.

"It's kay, not your fault. It's nice sticking around sometimes, even if I can't do much. Haunt the dickheads that come out here sometimes though the bullying little shits, keep track of Hellfire Club which is cool, amazing how massive it is now" he looks so proud.

"I know Dustin, Steve, Nancy, Robin. They've told me all about you. You died a hero" he gets up and smiles faintly.

"Decided to stop running, sometimes I wonder if it was sheer stupidity more than bravery"

"Bravery, not stupidity" you assure him and there comes that dimpled grin again. It makes you feel out of sorts, tingly.

"Must have been an awful earthquake" you sympathise and Eddie nods wincing.

"Yeah, was more concentrated on dying at that point though" this confuses you and you say so.

"It wasn't the earthquake that killed you?" he stares at you puzzled.

"No, it was the bats that killed me' he points to the tattoo of the bats on his arm. Ironic right?"

Wait... What?

"Bats?" his eyes widen.

"Shit you don't know?" he cringes and then turns on his heel and disappears. You call him back, curiosity piqued.

What the heck didn't you know? What was going on? More importantly, you just talked to Eddie Munson.

It's a thought that should terrify you but it doesn't and you find yourself anxious for the chance to speak to him again.

❤️

Eddie must be as curious about you as you are about him because he appears again at the edge of the woods while you are talking to your friends.

Anticipation fills you and you want to talk to him so badly, quickly.

You're a little breathless as you catch up to him and sit on the bench.

"Can you tell me what you meant about the bats, please? If you're okay to talk about it. I understand if you don't. The memories must be awful" he pauses for a few seconds then nods.

"Okay, I'll tell you but be warned. This shit is crazy. You might not believe me" you pay him rapt attention.

"Try me" and with that he begins to tell you everything.

You just talk a lot, he opens up about what really happened in Hawkins in 1986 you're stunned and have so many questions.

Demobats, Vecna, The Upside Down, The Mindflayer, The earthquake that rocked Hawkin's was caused by Vecna killing four people, their friend Max was the last death and it literally opened the gates to hell, where The Upside Down bled into Hawkins.

There was a massive group in Hawkins including Dustin, Nancy, her brother Mike, Steve, Robin and a super powers girl named El that fought against the monsters.

The evil was defeated but Max passed away and that caused a huge fracture in the group as well as Eddie's death.

"Sucked watching all the shit going down, doing my best to help when I could. When I wasn't vanishing for months at a fucking time" Eddie murmurs and his tone hurts your heart.

"Thank you for telling me Eddie. I really appreciate it" he offers you a warm smile and sighs as he looks to the darkening sky.

"You should get home, it's been hours" the darkened sky surprises you and you swear.

"Shit. Dad is going to be so pissed" You gather your things and Eddie clears his throat.

"Can I see you tomorrow sweetheart?" your heart melts at his hopeful expression and you find yourself aching to see him too.

"Count on it" you assure him. He sticks around to make sure you get to your car safely, he's gentlemanly and it's so sweet that you are smiling all the way home.

❤️

Even though you are still stunned about talking to a ghost you enjoy talking to Eddie, you talk a lot about many things and even though he disappears sometimes he always comes back.

The time between his disappearances begins to shorten as he mentions to you one day.

It's the first time he appeared outside your window you were just in your nightie and it was kinda cute watching Eddie stammer out his apology and turn around while you pulled on your robe.

If he could blush you're sure he would.

"Come in" you call to him and it's still pretty cool watching him go through things. He's beaming, something has made him happy and it makes you smile too.

That cute grin of his is infectious.

"The disappearances are shortening princess. It's like an hour now compared to hours or even weeks before we met"

It's amazing this is happening because you miss Eddie like crazy when he isn't around.

"This is amazing" You reach out without thinking and grab his hand, you except to feel cold, nothing at all.

Instead there is only a tiny chill as your fingers interlace through his and he is gazing at you in shock.

"You can feel me?" he whimpers and you nod tightening your grip on his hand as he squeezes your hand back, both of you are at a loss on what to say but it's also so wonderful what happened that you're both grinning at each other in a happy bubble.

❤️

Betty stares at you curiously as you doodle in your notebook, you don't mean to but you're doodling Eddie's name in little hearts.

Fuck. Over the weeks and weeks you had been getting to know each other, his form more solid with each passing day you're feelings are deep and growing by the day.

The truth was you were in love with Eddie.

"You've been lost in thought, daydreaming and smiling to yourself. What's going on? Are you in love with someone?" she asks excitedly.

Your heart speeds up but then comes crushing heartache and tears spill down your cheeks.

"It doesn't matter. It can't ever happen" she looks so confused as she rushes to comfort you.

"I don't understand honey" she wouldn't be able to.

How could you explain that you were head over heels in love with a ghost?

💕

It was a quiet night. Just you and Eddie. His body so close to yours, you bridge the tiny gap between the two of you and lay your head on his chest.

He feels so solid so real and for a few precious seconds you forget that you don't hear his heart beating. That it can never beat. All that matters is that Eddie is here with you.

That's until your doorbell rings and you groan getting up, you can hear that its Todd before you even see him and feel pissed. What the hell did he want?

You open the door just wanting to get this over with.

"Babe! It's been weeks and weeks. Graduation is next Friday! I've been super patient but when are you going to take me back?" you gape at him.

"Uh, how about the first of never? We broke up for good Todd because you're an arrogant bully" he looks stunned for a second.

"This is bullshit! You've met someone else haven't you" There's a shadow upstairs near your room, it's Eddie.

He's protective and you know he won't take Todd shouting at you lightly. However you're well versed in dealing with this dumbass.

"It's none of your business. Go away, Todd. You and I are never going to happen again" he scowls and reaches towards you to grab your arm.

"What are you doing! Let go!" his eyes darken and your heart sinks but then he comes to when you wrench your arm away and he snorts.

Then the next second he's literally flying out the door and lands right on his ass outside. You slam the door shut and head back upstairs knowing Eddie is annoyed.

He is quiet as you head into your room, still fuming that Todd thought you would ever want him back.

"Of all the arrogant, conceited assholes" you huff and you turn to Eddie who is resting on your bed his face blank.

"Eddie?" he gets up, he looks so tense and you move closer to him and gently take his hand.

"Eddie?" he turns to you and he looks forlorn, it makes your heart ache so deeply when he hurts, you hurt.

"What's wrong? Is this about Todd? I don't want him back. You know that right? He's such a douchebag and... He turns away and when he turns back to you his gaze is cold.

"Yeah, he's a dickhead but not every guy you meet will be. You'll find someone special, look at you. You're amazing, sweet, kind, beautiful" his words warm your heart and yet you still feel anxious.

"I don't want some guy. I... You're all I think about Eddie" It's the first time you've admitted out loud even though it's been obvious between you two for a while now.

He shakes his head, his eyes shining but his face set and angry.

"You can't sweetheart. I'm not even here, not really. You can feel me and I can feel you, yeah but it doesn't change the fact that I don't even have a fucking heartbeat"

"It doesn't change the fact that you have no future with me"

There's silence and he begins to fade.

"Please don't go" you beg and he smiles sadly.

"I can't be selfish sweetheart, you deserve someone real, someone who can be with you properly, that can't happen while I'm hanging around. Goodbye princess, thank you for making me happy for the first time in thirty five years" his hand gently strokes over your cheek.

"No, no" you beg but he disappears completely and he doesn't come back, not even for your heartbreaking calls.

Even if it breaks the heart that no longer beats inside of him, he knows he has to stay away.

❤️

It's been a week since Eddie left, sometimes you think that you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, smell his cologne when you wake up in the night but it's all just wishful thinking you realise.

You can't even explain to anyone why you're heartbroken, you feel so alone.

Graduation passes by and while you're happy that you and your friends will be together at the newly built Hawkins academy, there is still a heaviness in your heart that is left by Eddie's absence.

For a second you swear you see Eddie at the edge of the forest but he's gone the next second and you're sure much to your disappointment that you imagined it.

He really wasn't coming back. The thought broke your heart all over again.

❤️

The next night you find yourself wandering around Lovers Lake. All your friends are here and it's a massive party for all seniors.

As they party you head off on your own and find the cave that Eddie supposedly haunts, you just want to feel close to him for a little while.

The tears you've been holding in since yesterday fall and you cry it all out, all the heart ache and pain.

"Please don't cry," you think you imagine Eddie's voice but when you look up he's watching you, he looks agonised.

"What are you doing here, I thought you were staying away?" you wipe your eyes and stand up shakily. He swallows and moves closer to you.

"It's hell. Like a physical constant ache, it never goes away, the longing to be with you. When I'm not with you I'm in agony. Didn't know being dead could hurt this much. Hurt even worse than when I died"

Your whole body shakes with tears.

"I feel the same way, it feels like I can't breathe Eddie, it hurts so badly" he reaches out to you and his hand rests on your cheek.

"How can I stick around though? I'm just keeping you from moving on, finding someone who...who can really be with you" he spits out the words, the devastation in his eyes breaks your heart.

"This isn't fair. Life sucks ass you know that?" this brings a smile to his face and you cuddle into him, then you peer up at him.

"I love you Eddie, I'm in love with you" his expression changes, it's like happiness radiates from him and it fills your heart with joy.

"I love you too sweetheart, I'm so in love with you" his lips meet yours and you kiss passionately, pouring all of your love for each other into the kiss.

The kiss is incredible, perfect. You kiss for what seems like hours until you slowly part, Eddie's lips press to your forehead.

Then something weird happens, and Eddie's eyes widen. He stares at you for a second and whispers "Princess"

Then he's just gone.

❤️

Eddie expects to disappear and then re appear within an hour or so.

Instead of an hour it's barely a minute and something feels wrong. One minute he's in The Upside Down and he's bones and dust, the next minute, as if by magic he can feel his body coming back together, bones forming once more, skeleton then his body piecing itself back together, he opens his eyes and he can hear the most wonderful sound that he's heard in thirty five years.

The sound of his own heartbeat. He can't even comprehend how this happened. How he is alive once more.

Maybe magic did exist? If those creatures, the demobats, MindFlayer, Vecna and another dimension under Hawkins then who's to say that magic wasn't real?

A miracle had happened that's for sure. Tears burn in his eyes and he knows so much has changed over the years, his friends are grown up, his uncle an old man.

And yet he was given a second chance, another chance at life and he wasn't going to waste a single second.

At first he's unsteady on his feet, he cuts himself some slack. Shit he's been dead for so long.

Somehow though he gets out of the cold desolate world of the destroyed Upside Down.

He crawls his way out of hell and into the light.

❤️

It's a couple of hours later, you're at home and the sun is beginning to rise. Bird sing fills the air as sunlight fills your room.

That perfect kiss with Eddie fills your mind. Was it a goodbye kiss? Something didn't feel right when he disappeared and it's troubling you what it is.

"Princess" you peer up and Eddie is at your window, you race over to open it and he comes in.

"I thought you were gone" tears blur your vision and you throw your arms around him.

It takes a second for you to realise that he's warm, so warm, Eddie smiles through tears as he says something to you.

He's beaming, absolutely radiant,his whole body is solid and through your haze of tears you hear the words he's been saying to you.

"Princess, listen" he places your hand on his chest and you lean in close.

Thump, thump, thump.

You can feel the steady thump of his heart beat. It's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.

"How?" you're barely able to gasp out and he shakes his head, he has no idea either.

"After our kiss, I woke up in that place, everything was desolote and there was barely any sign of an exit but I crawled my way out of where my Uncle's trailer used to be" he closes his eyes.

"I was down there in the upside down but then I got to the surface, I could feel the sunlight, hear birds singing and could feel my heart racing, by some fucking miracle I was brought back"

"I've been given a second chance to have a new life, connect with Dustin and the others, spend my life with you if you'll have me, you're the woman I want to spend my life with" you kiss him elated.

"Yes, yes, yes. I'll be by your side through all of it Eddie". His eyes darken in a delicious way that makes your whole body tingle.

"There's so many people I want to see but first I really want to spend the morning making love to my girl. Does that sound good to you Princess?"

"Yes", you manage to say as his arms wrap around you pulling you close to him.

For the first time you make love, feeling Eddie's body close to you, the way he makes you feel is everything.

Mind-blowing orgasms sweep over you both but the absolute best part is when you cuddle into his arms sleepy, when you wake up he's dozing peacefully, there's a smile on his face and you sigh content as you rest your head against his chest.

His heartbeat lulls you back to sleep once more, a smile on your face as you slumber.

❤️✨