#just long distance sometimes going years without communication but coming back to each other with nothing changing

[ffredmujkic]

i wasnt gonna post this but seeing other ppl art made me want to

[batneko]

it occurred to me that bowuigi would make for really good sentinel-and-guide AUs

(for those who don't know, The Sentinel was a 90's show about a guy with heightened senses and protective instincts, which make him a natural defender of humanity but can also be overwhelming. His nerdy partner who provided most of the exposition was eventually revealed to be a "guide" who has the power to soothe and support him. It had an extremely dedicated fandom and robust shipping community, which led to Sentinel AUs being super popular until A/B/O AUs eventually eclipsed them.

The basics are: Character A has super-senses and tends to be protective and territorial, but they have panic attacks/migraines/whatever because of their powers. Character B is a calming presence and often feels compelled to help Character A despite any personal differences they might have. It's important to note that the connection between sentinels and guides is not inherently sexual, though there's a lot of touching involved so if there's any attraction at all between the characters it can get awkward. Usually in the AU sentinel and guide powers are Known Abilities with support systems and sometimes even a matchmaking service in place, despite it being rare and unknown in the show.)

So for the obvious version we've got Sentinel Bowser and Guide Luigi. Bowser is an extremely powerful sentinel which means very few people can challenge him, but his instincts have driven him to conquer more and more territory over the years and he's starting to feel stretched thin. He's had guide partners before but his personality problems drive them away before too long, so he keeps a few in rotation and tries not to get attached.

He "fell in love" with Peach because her guide abilities are so strong he feels comfortable around her without either of them even trying. And since he only tends to see Luigi when Peach is also there (either kidnapped or at a group event) he doesn't notice that Luigi is a guide at all for a long time.

Until one day he has an attack in public, and since he's likely to lash out in that condition everyone keeps their distance - except Luigi. Who rushes to his side and holds his hand and rubs his brow until Bowser is able to come back to himself.

Bowser is stunned that someone he thought of as an enemy would help him so easily, as if it's the obvious thing to do. But he's also embarrassed that Mario's brother of all people had to take care of him in such a vulnerable position. He gets it into his head that the only way to save face here is if he acts like it's not embarrassing at all and that now he wants Luigi to be his full time guide partner.

This is definitely going to go great!

And then the reverse, Sentinel Luigi and Guide Bowser. Mario and Luigi are both sentinels, but they're so used to relying on and covering for each other that neither of them has ever needed a guide... Or at least they've convinced themselves they don't need one, until they're both falling at Princess Peach's feet as all the tension they've built up over the years drains away all at once.

Pretty soon it becomes clear that Peach and Mario have a connection that Peach and Luigi don't, and Luigi makes excuses to leave the two of them alone as often as he can. Which leaves him both without a guide and without his partner, putting up with all the stress and sensory stimulation on his own. He handled it before, right? He can handle it now.

Then he (literally) runs into Bowser and, just like with Peach, collapses to his knees at the sudden rush of relief. Bowser is like "not that I don't enjoy this kind of thing, but what the hell?" before he senses Luigi's distress and realizes he's a sentinel. It makes sense given how strong the brothers are, but he'd never really thought about how that kind of thing works for humans.

And, though he tells himself he shouldn't care if Luigi is struggling or not, he's not entirely heartless. Bowser scoops Luigi off the floor and lets him spend the rest of the day with him, eventually saying he's doing it because it'll be funny to have Luigi owe him a favor.

Luigi says okay. Bowser is baffled by how quickly he agreed. Either he was really really suffering, or he's so nice of a guy that he doesn't even fathom how easily Bowser can take advantage of him.

Well, it's not like it costs Bowser anything to keep him around. And it does actually feel good to be a guide instead of a king for once. Bowser decides to keep racking up "favors" until he thinks of the best way to use them, probably against Mario, or maybe to get into the Mushroom Kingdom.

Sure, once he gets that payoff Luigi will probably never forgive him and never want to see him again, but it'll be worth it... right?

[ana-chronista]

35 bojere 🥹🙏

Thanks for the prompt! And a special mention to Ruisrock bringing out all of the fluff and all of the angst all at the same time... Prompts are still open: Fic request list! 35. Dreams/Nightmares

There’s a game they like to play every now and then. One of them will mention something in passing only for the other to chip in well, that’s going in the house, and by the time their spiralling conversation has unravelled they’ll have ten new additions to this dream home they’ll have one day. It's been a running joke (can it be a joke, even in those moments when Bojan looks at him so softly and he feels like his heart will burst) for so much of the past year that there’s a list of features as long as Jere’s arm that he can rattle off at any given moment. The sauna he’d refused to do without. The soundproofed music room Bojan had wanted for work (“Or some other things,” Jere had said, flipping Bojan to pin him to the mattress and revelling in his delighted smile). The plants that Jere has warned Bojan his grandma will insist they take even though neither of them has the first idea about keeping one alive. The mirror with the weird ornate frame that’s hanging in Bojan’s living room and that he showed him one time during a video call. Sometimes, when he finds it difficult to drift off at night, he traces the familiar images in his mind, worn with use but comforting. And he has to keep reminding himself of it all because, for now, comforting is all it can be. there’s always something in the way: a tour, an album, promo work, interviews, events. They knew this was how it would be, whether they choose to stay as friends or try to be something more, way back when they first started talking about where any of this could go. Meeting each other had been unbelievable in more ways than one, but then so had his career taking off so rapidly.

He doesn’t regret any of it, not a single moment. This has been his dream for so long, and to suddenly have it come true still feels unbelievable a lot of the time. Even the downsides – the hate-filled comments and the cameras in his face even when he just wants to get to the shop – melt away when he’s on stage in front of a cheering crowd. It's just... There’s another dream that’s sprung up over the past few months (since last year, a little voice whispers in the back of his mind, since you saw him again in Liverpool and he was so glad to see you, remember?) in place of the one he’s currently living. One where there’s a bright laugh in the room with him, strong arms that can actually wrap around him and pull him close, competing for the bathroom in the morning and jostling in the kitchen in the evening and cuddling up on the sofa to make fun of shitty movies and pretend not to be as invested in trash TV as they are. Jere has never done long distance before. Loyalty comes naturally to him, as easy as breathing, but scheduling and planning every possibility for communication? Not so much. It’s exhausting and straining and more often than not he can feel every centimetre of those two thousand kilometres stretching out between them. He doesn’t regret any of it, and he knows Bojan doesn’t either. They both know that when one of them says you mean everything to me there’s an unspoken but that they both feel. But not yet. But not now. But there are other things that I want to achieve first. It doesn’t take away what they feel (and how lucky, really, to find someone who understands so well), but still, it’s bitter, this delay of a happily ever after. He stays hopeful because he has to. Because, really, what else is there? To not have Bojan in his life? Sometimes he struggles to remember what it was really like before they met, even if weeks and months go by filled mostly with texts and photos and endless planning for whatever five minutes they can carve out for themselves. Jere’s never been a quitter and he’s not about to start now, not when his heart still swells every time he gets a picture of what seems to be the world’s most hideous dish with thought you’d like this for the house and can fire back yeah, your mum said it’s too ugly for her home and knows that somewhere out there Bojan will be laughing. Not when his every nerve sparks with excitement when he sees Bojan's name lighting up the call screen. Not when his breath still catches at the sight of Bojan coming through arrivals with a bag over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear, ready to make the most of what little time they have until the day there’s a final greeting in an airport and they go home together. There’s still time, he tells himself as he squeezes Bojan tight and feels him bury his face in the crook between his neck and shoulder. They have this for now. Happily ever after can wait a while.

[orange-foxes]

Long Distance

🔶 High or Low Tide by Stjosten (5k)

Andrew is off at college and Neil is back in Columbia finishing his senior year of high school. It’s fine. Nothing bad is going to happen in the short time apart. Neil is an idiot but he has survived alone for a long time before he met Andrew. It is going to be fine. Atleast, that’s what he keeps telling himself and for some reason it feels like lying.

🔶 You go your way, I'll go your way too by emmerrr (20k)

Neil tries to leave it as long as possible to make his first phone-call to Andrew. He figures the longer he can go without hearing Andrew’s voice, the easier it will be in the long run. He doesn’t quite make it forty-eight hours. (Five times Neil calls Andrew after Andrew has graduated, plus one time Andrew calls Neil)

🔶 holding out for what you want by PoolToast22 (7k)

Or, the one where it's Neil's fifth year alone and he doesn't know how to handle it.

🔶 Touch me, love me, leave me by BakaDoll (43k)

No one ever told Neil there was a second Minyard who was a soldier for the U.S. Army, and suddenly he was stuck with him in his dorm during Thanksgiving holidays. But sometimes first expressions can be wrong, and what Neil expected to be the worst week of his year might turn out completely different than anticipated.

🔶 Home for Christmas by abraxos_is_toothless (3k)

Long Distance Relationships are hard, but they made it work. Until it wasn’t working and then the holidays came around.

🔶 A Thousand Miles Seems Pretty Far by gluupor (3k)

Long distance relationships are hard. Or, everybody sucks at communication sometimes.

🔶 Five Hours Away by mostly_maudlin (series)

Andrew's in Nashville. Neil's in Palmetto. They're both well-practiced in surviving alone. 

🔶 Where's My Love (just come home) by kanekicure (8k)

Neil hasn't been in the same room as Andrew for almost two months and he feels like he has a gaping wound on his side in his absence. Then, to make matters worse, Andrew stops responding to his calls and Neil is starting to feel like he's going slightly crazy.

🔶 people problems by loveroulettes (22k)

When Neil meets the perfect guy Andrew realizes that six and a half years later, he still doesn’t know how to ask the important questions.

🔶 Think With Your Head by HalfpintPeach (10k)

Andrew wakes up from a wet dream missing Neil. That's it, that's the fic.

🔶 Stay With Me by Lostintheuniverseslies (97k)

Neil had let Andrew say goodbye to every important person left in Palmetto while he stood on the sidelines and cheered Andrew on. There was only one goodbye left and it would be the most painful one. It seemed as though it was finally hitting Neil too. They only had twenty-seven days together and then Neil would return to Palmetto alone for the first time since Millport. They spent the first year after everything healing. Now they have to learn how to navigate being away from each other while Andrew is off playing in the pros and Neil is still at Palmetto finishing his fifth year. Things aren't easy. They never seem to be for them but they're fighters. And they always come out on top.

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Sometimes Love Stops In Its Tracks

You love your man, but sometimes, it can lead to a breaking point.

Includes: Victor Creed (Sabertooth), Loki, Thor, Steve Rogers (Captian America), Bucky Barnes (Winter Solider), Bruce Wayne (Batman), Clark Kent (Superman), Arthur Curry (Aquaman), Orm Marius, Joker, Duncan Vizla (Polar)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Quill Imagine

Victor Creed

Living the way of mutants and humans was a thin line to follow. Victor felt that he was an animal, proud of his lone wolf ways, finding solace in the hidden corners of the forest around the globe as he traveled from one mission to another. Being on the side of power that wanted to bring respect to mutants, even if their ways were questionable at the very least. And now, it was gone, traded from a role as a teacher, educating younger mutants, having battle quips with some of the twerps that think they are brighter than the 200-year-old Sabertooth. Little things like that stuck in his brain, bits and pieces that he most of the time brought home to his lover and partner. Which, after a while, bred new arguments and fights. Something which both sides did not like. Tension bubbled, and Victor felt himself dive back into his ways of thinking.

'You would NOT understand my pain!!'

'Of course, I do not know since you don't communicate anymore. Victor, please, this has been going on for way too long; talk to me! ...Tell me so I can understand.'

'Even if I told you your human brain is too stunned to comprehend.'

'What?! Why are you talking like this? Do not talk to me like that.'

'And what are you going to do?! You are no match for me.' with that, Victor knew he had crossed a line he didn't think he would cross, ever.

'I will not be treated like this! You are on your own now.'

You spoke, starting to distance yourself away from the raging mutant. Placing permanent distance between each other, leaving love to stop in its tracks.

Loki Laufeyson

For him, his heritage was a silent trigger in his mind. Whenever his blue skin showed itself unexpectedly, his manners would shift, not speaking to anyone not even his love. Which would, in return, create silence so loud it could break your heart. And it did. The silence brought no mature way to deal with it. You tried to comfort him, offering hugs, kisses, and soft touches to the broken god, but each time at the offer, Loki would pull away and even sometimes roar at the devotion. 

'Do not touch me! How many times do I have to tell you?!'

'I am just...trying to help.' The last part can be only whispered at the raging man

'Do not help me. Leave me alone.'

Loki turns away, walking away as you tried to do it to your best ability, but if he wanted help, he would accept it. Maybe it was time to leave him...alone. Sometimes the best thing you can do is remove yourself from the situation and let love stop in its tracks.

Thor Odinson

Thor fancied traveling, exploring new places, and new people, and having exhilarating adventures. Thor would leave on a whim sometimes, even most of the time, without saying where he is going or when he is coming back. Each time Thor would come back cheery as ever, retelling his stories to you with the same gleam, not understanding what he left behind and expects when he came back. You would communicate what you felt, from the sudden 180 from having him in youR arms to an empty apartment and waiting each day and night, wishing that this is the moment when he will come back. So when he came back, Thor did not read the room.

'Do you not like the story?'

With a heavy sigh, you hoped that it would be obvious. 'No-no, the story about you riding a giant goat sounds like great fun. But, Thor, do you know how I feel? Waiting for you here? Hoping that you will arrive, hoping that you will send a message that you are okay? At least that...'

Thor treks back, his eyes widening in puzzlement. 'I do not understand, dearest when I was in Asgard, my family would not grumble regarding my adventures.'

Relying back upon confusion from your side, they speak with a sharp tone, 'Thor...I know that. But this is not Asgard. This is our home. I know that your family got unfortunately reduced to myself, but what we have is a relationship. And our relationship should be based on communication. Therefore when you leave at the very least, very minimum, let me know.'

Thor took one more step back, feeling his confusion start to simmer. 'What do you mean? I thought that our bond was powerful.' Thor withdrew, looking at his lover.

'It IS strong, but this, like this, your last-second adventure, are things that can chip away at this life we have. I don't want that.'

Thor looks at you, seeing the ping of confusion on your face now 'I am a god. A god goes whenever the path takes them. My heart told me at that moment to go and explore a new corner of the realm. Experience a new life there, fresh cultures, exciting quests and help the less fortunate there, to let them know they have a god...' Thor started to ramble on his reasons for making such a bold move, and in a second, he struck in the wrong path '...explore new lovers there.'

What?

You and Thor look at each other, and you feel a small ping in your heart. Not wanting to say it out loud, but still going to walk in your truth. 

'While your heart told you to do all those things.... did it ever think of me and my heart?' Standing up, you spoke into the viscous silence that started to settle heavily on Thor's shoulders, 'Me and my heart won't take you back. Our love has stopped because of your adventures.' 

Steve Rogers

Steve was continuously on a mission, rarely home. And when he was home, it was almost a designated time for him to do all the things he couldn't do back when he was living, meaning going to 1900s museums, dinners, activities, and so on... but one thing Steve was always stuck with was Peggy. More times than not, Steve would catch himself saying Peggy's name instead of yours. Which would create disharmony. Steve would play it off, hoping you would understand where he is coming from. Creating fights and blowouts as you were trying to get your point across to Steve. 

'Steve, I understand that Peggy was your girl then, but now I am here. Don't call her name when you call me. We don't even have similar names.'

'You are telling me to suppress an important part of my life. You, of all people, should understand what kind of pressure I go through when I am on a mission. So when I come here, I mostly blow off some steam, and my brain mixes everything. Hence, the name mixing.' Steve argued his point coming across less and less, dipping more into the black hole that was forming between the lovers. 'What if the roles would be reversed Steve, hm? What if I said my ex's name instead of yours?'

'Oh, for the love of god. Please, not that gender-role-reversal crap. Back in my day...'

'Stop!' It roared in Steve's ears, the way the word just shouted in his ear, halting his words.

'If your brain is still in the past. Then you can live through it by yourself. As much as I give myself to you and your activities so you can "relive" your "golden days," even though you have been willing and ready to make a life together, you still want to go back. And that is completely fine, but you could have told me that and not strung me along all this time.' 

Steve sat back, hearing and feeling the wave of emotions falling into a black hole, growing more and more and very soon encapsulating Steve, losing himself forever. 

Bucky Barnes

Bucky consistently feared everything and everyone. Not a lot of moments in his lifetime offer solace and peace. But you tried your best to give him a piece of the comfort and love you felt for him every day. Bucky tried to dissociate from everyone, including you, and the moments you shared with him, cooking, knitting, reading, you name it, his brain was always halfway turned off, and you really can not blame him. You tried your best to understand the poor soul; you really did! But when he was zoned like that, he tended to be more jumpy and scared, resulting in a fiery shout directed at you.

'Dammit! You scared me!'

Turning into a frigid zone, no talking, no touching for 1 hour, as Bucky instructed. And that rule made it hell for you; you thrived off of physical touch! 

'I am just saying that I am here, Buck. You do NOT have to be alone. You have me, for crying out loud.'

'You would not understand what I went through. And with all my scars, I am fearful how I will live like this.'

'I can not phantom what you went through, Bucky. But the reason we are in this relationship is to be with each, enjoy each other's company, touch each other, and just- just let everything be, no past, no future-just us; together.'

Getting your point into his thick skull, Bucky's eyes winded in anger and misinterpretation. 'So what you are saying is to forget myself. To be no one?! To be just an insignificant speck on this planet and forget my hurdles and trauma. Like you?!'

Looking at him, you felt the ripple of sadness coloring your veins; there was no way Bucky thought that about you, someone who he loved, cherished, and most importantly trusted, was he?

'Is-is that what you think about...me?! '

'Yes!' He boomed the answer without a second thought, sealing this chapter for the both of you. Looking at him, you come close to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek respond in a hush, loud enough to be engraved in his brain.

'Remember this kiss, because it is the last sincere thing you will feel. Until you come to terms with yourself, James.'

With that, you left the room knowing that the best option was to leave him if he wished so letting your love stop in its tracks.

Bruce Wayne

Bruce always thought that he wasn't made for relationships, the man dressed like a bat, for goodness sake. Therefore, when you two got together, you raised Dick from a small baby boy with the fattest cheeks that were just screaming to be pinched to a teenager going through his phase of 'begging secretive,' although I don't know how much you can get secretive if you are a superhero and being mentored by Batman. A few years perished, you would have thought that Batman was more open to having a partner in his house, not ours, his. But no. Bruce would hole up in his cave and not talk to anyone, not even Alfred, if he was working on anything. And that fueled sleepless nights resorting for you to give him the cold shoulder but masking it in front of Dick to appear as if everything is okay. Which in hindsight, would bite you in the ass when you would feel yourself crack under the façade. 

'Alfred? Why is Mom crying?'

'That... Master Richard is hard to explain. The best we can do is give her a hug and reassure her that everything is okay.'

The hug would help in a 'band-aid over a bullet wound' type of way, but nonetheless, it helped. What didn't help was Bruce and his stoicism. No matter what emotion you chuck at him or say, he would just stand coldly. 

'Bruce! Just come out of this forsaken cave. For one hour! For Dick! For me! For Alfred!'

'I told you. I have a case. I can not leave the cave just yet.' He spoke in a stern tone, not moving an octave higher or lower.

'You have been in here for 6 days. This is borderline madness. I forgot your touch.' You responded, feeling your body tremble with unhappiness and uprising anger. 'I have been nothing but patient, but nothing can make you move. I tried, I really, really, really tried. But you gave me nothing!'

Stepping away, you see Bruce's eyes dilate slightly at your discouraged-filled sentences, but now it is too late. As you were going up the stairs, Dick stepped out of the shadows looking at his father.

'Are you just going to stand there?'

Bruce looks at the boy feeling his heart twist in the same way yours was feeling your shared love stop in its tracks.

Clark Kent

Clark moved on when Lois found a new guy to be with. By finding you. Being with you, making a life together, living together in Metropolis. Finding yourself with him. Clark was a sweetheart and still is, to the bone. But when you are such a sweetheart, there are bounds where you will trip up because of your niceness. For Clark, it would be the ability to say no to Lois when she calls for help. Be it a heroic save from a no-name villain to a minuscule task such as carrying furniture up 5 flights of stairs, where she moved in with her new boyfriend.

'Clark, you have to stop helping her so much.'

'I couldn't say no. When she asked me so nice-'

'She has a man! He can do all those things. You are my man!'

'What are you saying?! I should have let her plummet to death when she was falling?'

'That's not my point, Clark. What I am saying is... she is your past. I am your present.'

Clark stood up, hugging you gently, reassuring you with a soft touch, 'You have to understand that she will always be my past. Someone I still very much love.'

Hearing that you pushed him away, you felt a coil snap in your heart, nudging you in the direction where you opted you would not go. 'What?! Lois broke your heart and left you all alone to pick up the pieces, and you still love her?'

'She didn't know what she was doing. I told her how I felt, and we mended that.' More actions came to light 'When?! You never mentioned that to me. Clark... what are you hiding?!'

Clark moved away, seeing what effect all of this had on you, heartbreak in sight. 'Nothing! Just Lois and I talked it over and decided to move friends. Nothing more!'

Looking to the side, you could not see him anymore; your emotions got the better of you. 'You are saying that just now. Do you understand how much jealousy and insecurity I have to press down when I see you going to Lois first and not me? Have you tried to think how I would feel?! All the time, I was really supportive and understanding, but I am human, and my other emotions would boil if this continued, and it did. I gave you so much grace hoping you would understand by yourself. But you did, and look where we are now.'

Looking at him, you saw his eyes dim with hopelessness. 'So what are you saying? That we-' '-yes, we have no future. But maybe your past can help you pick up the pieces.'

Arthur Curry

Arthur is a hunk of a man. He attracted people of all genders and orientations. He is a beef magnet. Arthur knew his charm, but he was oblivious to how it affected you. Whoever was flirting with Arthur, it made you a bit mad when Arthur would return the flirt even when you were with him.

#154th time

'Babe, if I am nice to the barmen, we will get free drinks.'

#484th time

'No worries, toots. The woman there is smoking hot, but I am still yours.'

Arthur tried to reassure you, but all that would fall on deaf ears by the time you saw it for the 500th time.

'Arthur, you have to stop. I am uncomfortable seeing you flirt with other people while I am with you.'

'When did I do that?' He would ask as if all of that did not happen 3 hours ago, 'You are messing with me, right?! You were flirting with the girl outside the bar while I was getting the car!' 

'Oh, that?! That doesn't count.' He retired, saying a small pfft.  

'Sorry? And when "does it count"?' You asked, feeling genuine curiosity mixed with rage

'Only when I get something free out of it.'

it took you a second to comprehend was he was saying and what he was speaking

'So you mean you do it all the time, but most of the time, you do it to gain something you can very easily buy?'

Arthur takes a second to realize and says deadpanned, 'Yes.'

Losing all hope in the merman before you, you just left, leaving him to his own consequences. Letting your silence speak louder than his words could ever, letting him know that your love has stopped in its tracks.

Orm Marius

Orm never would have thought in a million centuries that he would leave his birthright of being a king to be with you. That decision weighed heavily on his shoulders and heavier on yours. As you were described to others as 'the reason Orm left him throne' sometimes it was spoken with a devoted ping but sometimes with a bitter punch. And that decision was not yours; it never was. It was his. Orm just wasn't ready to admit it. Creating a toxic atmosphere in your household. You were mostly quiet on the matter, hoping that Orm would digest it like an adult man, while Orm was boasting about his accomplishments in Atlantis and always ending with a bitter 'And now I am here.'

'Orm, if you feel that way. You are free to go. I am not some anchor that will keep you here against your will. Plus, we all know YOU chose to come here. I did not put a gun to your head and force you to come here. I had no problem having a long-distance relationship. YOU were the one who wanted to escape that throne and those responsibilities.'

Orm strode to you, feeling disassociated with himself. 'I beg your pardon! The reason I came here was to be with you! Because I love you.'

'I know you do. But every time we talked about your royal duties, you always mention what kind of mental toll they had on you, so much that you started to lose your hair from the stress.' 

Orm looked at you as if a film playing before him; you were right. But he was not ready to fall back.

'You are the one at fault!' He argued, trying to stick to his points that stood on wobbly legs. 'Me?! How??!' You rebutted, ready to stand your ground firmly. 'You and your heritage! Why did you have to be a surface dweller?! Why did you even have to be born?!' He screamed at you, unleashing the avalanche he formed 

'How-how can you say that? You said you loved me moments ago,and now you don't want me on this earth?'

Pacing back, you turn towards the balcony overlooking the ocean, just a few steps ahead. Opening the balcony door, you step aside, saying with a bittersweet sound, 'Here! You can go! I won't hold you back, Orm. It was never my intent to make you so miserable. But when you realize that I was right, don't come back running to me.

Joker(Suicide Squad)

J never intended to have you in his life, someone so typical. Not corrupted, not willing to rob a bank or squishy an ant. You were an angel, and he wanted to corrupt you, but then he knew it would lose parts that made you so distinct and memorable to him. J never tortured you or forced you to do anything. But he did leave you alone while he wreaked havoc in the city. Locking you in the "safe" castle prison while he rampaged Gotham. At first, it wasn't a big deal; after a while, it was like a panic attack that you had to suffer alone in the ample lustrous space. 

'J, can you not lock me next time. It really weighs heavy on me. Please stop.'

'Angel, you being locked here is for your own good. What if someone tries to take you away?'

'And me being locked away will keep them away?'

'You are right! From tomorrow I will add a safe and code lock on the doors and windows.'

'No! J! You can not do this to me! Every time you leave, you lock me in. I feel like I haven't been outside for days now.'

'It was exactly 6 days.'

'J, you have to let me out! I am not someone who is okay with staying in here.'

J started to laugh uncontrollably, looking at you like you are the crazy one 'You are acting like you didn't know, pet. HA! Did you seriously think you would not have some "conditions" to be with me???!!!'

Looking back at him, it dawned on you just now. J wasn't the one going mad, you were. Being locked up in here like some twisted life routine. You had to cut this twist now and forever. 

'I do not wish to be with someone who gives me solitude J.' 

Standing up you walk out of the room, hearing J yelling at you, 'Do NOT forget how good of a life you had with me and in this golden cage!' 

Trying to assemble his thoughts, J halts all his actions feeling his love stop.

Duncan Vizla

Duncan looked at the snow-covered window watching as you walked out of your truck and into your shared home with the retired assassin. 

'Hey, Donut! I'm back. I found the cutest dog ever, a mix of poodle and french bulldog; his name was Mocha. So freaking cute.'

As you explained your day to Duncan, he asks you, cutting the cheery atmosphere short 'No one was following you, dove? Did you check your surroundings?'

A little stumped at the change of atmosphere you spoke with a tint of lie 'Yes. all clear.'

Duncan raises an eyebrow seeing your smile drop 'Liar.'

'Fine, yeah. I didn't check my surroundings but I was extremely careful and I only went to the famers market and petted Mocha.'

Duncan sighs loudly filling the room with his anxiousness. 'It was fine and-' 'It's not fine. You could have been hurt. Someone could have taken you.'

Placing your hand on his you try to soothe him 'IT WAS fine, Ducan. No one is after me. No one is after you. You can relax. We are together here now.'

'You do not understand my fear. Every time I walk out I feel their eyes on me and I do not want you to feel that. I just want you to be safe.'

'Duncan, and I am. When I am with you. Please calm down and let us just enjoy this day.' you talked to him, trying to reason with him but not much was going up his walls.

'Do not downplay my emotions. You would not understand the fear I have to harbor to keep it away from You. To keep you happy and live in this fantasy.'

'What?! How can you say that?? All my feelings towards you are sincere Duncan, I have told you many times that we can talk whenever and about whatever you wanted. I gave myself to you and help you overcome your past life.'

You rebutted looking at him, trying to get your points across and into his thick skull.

'Don't downplay me, little girl! You watch who you are talking to.' Duncan shouted, making you come to a standstill. 

How could he talk to you like that? And downsize you to a small girl. You aren't helpless. You aren't dumb, far from it. You are more than capable of walking away right this instant. 

'You will not talk to me like that Duncan. And you will not minuscule me. I do not care what you have gone through if you will tear me like that, and talk to me like that. No one will talk to me like that and you will finally learn that what you say hurts far more than a weapon can.'

Walking out, you look at the snowstorm coming in, sealing your fate far away from Duncan.

[auari]

One year & five months.

10.22.24

The most beautiful thing that happened to me was when I met you. You made me the happiest person alive in this cruel world. You’re the light that has been lighting me up since the beginning of our relationship, and I will always choose to be yours every day, baby. I am nothing without the person who’s willing to sacrifice everything just to make me feel at ease and comfortable. You are such an incredible person, I know. You are more than unique compared to the people around me. You understand me the most and are the person who knows every single detail about me.

In the past months of being together, we both know that it has never been easy for us to deal with everything. And yet, here we are now, celebrating our 17th month anniversary with the same person. We always find a way to be together and communicate everything to avoid overthinking. I realized I had never been this serious to anyone until you came. I am ready to sacrifice everything I have just to support and be there for you when you need me the most. Please, let’s always find our way to come back to each other. We both know how much we need each other when times get rough. All we need is each other and no one else. We are fixing everything with each other. Even though sometimes we argue, I will never forget how much I love you. We may fight all the time, but my love for you remains the same. We are just fighting, but that doesn’t mean it lessens my love for you. You are the only person I want to be my kaaway, but I love you the most all the time. I thank you for being such a responsible partner of all time. You did everything just to make our relationship happy and comfortable. You are the only person I can talk to for hours without pausing because I am only comfortable with you and your presence. I truly have the very best friend + girlfriend, and it’s only you. We bond like everyone else cannot. A bond that we both shared laughter and love without hurting each other. I am truly lucky to have a special someone like you in this world. I will always find a way to come back to you, my audie. I swear. I will love you until the end of me.

 

I will forever cherish every moment I shared with you all throughout our journey as girlfriends. Let’s make more memories together next year!! WE CAN SEE EACH OTHER NEXT YEAR (hopefully)!! I really want to see myyy baaabyyy:(( Being this patient is killing me. I want us to see each other often and not once in a blue moon:(( GOD MADE US LIVE IN DIFFERENT CITY ‘cause he wants to see how we will survive each day without seeing each other HEHEHE. So far, we are surviving!! Hopefully next year, I can go there anytime I want:(( ITS A BIG WIN for me if we’ll see each other often and not this long distance rs ‘cause its sooooo huhu I want to kiss my girlfriend anytime:((

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be my last!! I am sure about building more memories with you and being with you in any aspect of our lives. Believe me when I say that I truly want to build our own house without people to make us wrong. I want us to live under a roof where everyone is free to tell everything happening to them without thinking of being judged. I want our future house to be the safest house wherein we are soft and gentle to each other and talk things out to settle everything with love and respect. Because of you, I find everything. My everything, who knows everything about life. I don’t know how to put it in words, but I saw everything about you that everyone has been dying for to have. In short, you’re a dream girl. My dream girl.

AGAAAIN, HAPPY 17TH TO US, MY FOREEEVEEER BAAABYYY !! MWAAAAAAAAA I WUUUUVVVVV CHUUUUUU ALWAAAAYYS, THE BEST GIRLFRIEND. 🩷

[amysubmits]

Hi Amy :) long time fan of your writing

I know you’ve written about times where CD has mentally pulled away from you, and your dynamic, because of real world issues and circumstances. I was wondering if that still happens where maybe one of you is just having a rough time and pulls away and maybe how you navigate that and reconnect ? Or if this ever hurts your feelings and how you go about it even if his issues arnt because of or about you

Hope that made sense, have a great day!

Hey Anon :)

Thank you!

Yes, we still have times where one or both of us get sort of emotionally distant without fully realizing it. Sometimes due to life circumstances, sometimes just due to mood or mental health.

A little over a year ago we got to a place where we both (but mostly me, honestly, haha) felt more comfortable addressing issues or concerns at a faster pace, rather than waiting on emotions to fully pass. With that, we've been able to discuss any feelings of distance or being shut off or shut down a lot more quickly, which has resulted in those periods being shorter than they used to be. We've also both gained a lot of additional insight into our individual mental health situations the last year or so of being in therapy. And when we understand ourselves better, that makes it easier to communicate where we're at to each other.

So how it works is basically...

CD still tries to let me know if he is feeling 'off' at all, and to let me know it's not me if it's not me. I try to do the same. And we're both able to do this at least 90% of the time that it happens, now. And when we aren't able to communicate to the other person that we aren't fully feeling ourselves, it's the result of us not really realizing our own mood. So if CD is 'off' and he doesn't say anything to me, that usually means he isn't aware that he is 'off', so my goal would then be to let him know that I feel like he is 'off' so that he can kinda check in with himself about how he's doing, and then we can talk about it. And same thing if I'm the one who is off without realizing it. A lot of the time if we don't catch our own mental health thing, the other person will see it. Also, we're both medicated for things now that have helped reduce the low moods and intensity of anxiety that would cause us to pull away or pull into our own heads.

Once we've acknowledged that something is off, sometimes we fix it, and sometimes we let it run its course.

Sometimes that distance we've been creating with the other person doesn't feel necessary, so once we recognize it, we work to communicate through it and get back to feeling really intimate.

Other times, it feels like the person who is 'off' really needs some space to just kind of be in their feelings and stuck in their head for a day or two to process whatever they're coping with. We still do some talking with each other about it, we never fully lock the person out. But we don't always feel like that kinda off, stuck in our head, feeling is something that can be immediately resolved, sometimes it takes time to come back around, and so we try to give each other that space if that's what's needed.

When Cd is the one who is off, I do still tend to worry that it's somehow my fault. It helps a lot that we just address it directly, and really quickly. It give some less time to worry about other possibilities. Still, it doesn't always take care of my insecurities. If I feel like I need it, I will let him know that I'm struggling, but while making it clear that I know it's primarily my issue. "I know you said that you're feeling off because of [XYZ] right now, but I'm still struggling with worrying it's my fault. Can you reassure me again that it's not about me?" or similar is what I try to do. And directly asking for the reassurance we need is something we've just managed to figure out this last year or so. In the past it felt like if we ask for exactly what we need and then receive it, we'd totally dismiss t. I don't fully know how or why that doesn't seem true to us anymore. But yeah we are now able to directly address our need, ask for it, and get it - and that helps some. But also, to some degree, I try to recognize that my insecurities exist, and that while I try not to let my insecure thoughts run away with the chickens, I can't fully expect CD to be able to 'cure' my insecurities. So I try to just remind myself of my patterns. I have an insecure attachment style so it's easy for me to get anxious anytime I feel any distance from him. And just sort of remembering why I have that reaction, and that it isn't really about CD at all, somewhat helps.

But yeah, I find that it's a lot easier to come back together when we don't let the distance stay unspoken or last for as long as it used to. If you can get to where you can communicate noticing that something feels off sooner, and address any insecurities sooner, that can keep the insecurities from growing as much. At least, that's been my experience.

Hope this helps!

[hell-much]

Cutting Room Floor - Insidious Intent - IX

Firsts

Another list of Sansa's musings about her relationship with Margaery. This was based on normal firsts people go through in a relationship, but Sansa's musings somewhat drifted in another direction.

.

First kiss

Their first kiss has brought about the weirdest of associations, where any discussion about capitalism brings about that fluttery feeling in her stomach.

They both ask occasionally if it’s okay to kiss the other. Not as often anymore, hardly anymore to ensure consent. These days there is more of a teasing, because anticipation is something amazing.

First make out session

Not to say that they didn’t still have many first since her release from prison. Their first make out session comes to mind. When they’d laid on the couch and cuddling had turned into kissing, heavy kissing, but nothing more. Where they had gone to bed afterwards and Sansa had spent her first night sleeping over without sleeping together.

First fight

As far as fights go Sansa wants to say they had their fill. For weeks and months there was always something brewing between them, and now for the first time it feels like they have the air cleared. They know where they stand. They are communicating openly and honestly. Any clouds are far, far on the horizon.

First cry

Seeing Margaery crying is something she cannot stand. Seeing Margaery cry because of her is unbearable.

Sansa hasn’t cried in months. The last time she cried was that day. Talking to Arya on the phone from Kingswood. She hasn’t cried when she would have every reason too with a wrist swollen up to double its size and throbbing with pain. She hasn’t cried when realizing Margaery was the one responsible for the leaked recording. She hasn’t cried with her entire family circling around her hospital bed and seeing her dad crying for the first time ever.

That lack of her tears isn’t because she is particular brave or strong. It’s not even a conscious choice. It’s not medication. She’s learned not to cry over the years. Ramsay told her she was an ugly crier, and he liked his things beautiful, including his wife. That’s hard to shake, not impossible, but she has a distinct feeling that she has a lot of tears ahead of her. That she won’t make it if she’s excessive with her tears now.

First lazy day

Lazy days over at Margaery’s are Sansa’s new favourite way to spend the weekends. And Lady’s too for that matter.

There have been days where they hardly made it out of bed. Sometimes just for cuddling and talking. Sometimes for other things. It’s these days when Sansa knows she won’t be ready to do long distance, at least not long, long distance. It’s these days when she’s sure she won’t survive going back to prison. 

There are nights where they just sit on opposite ends of the couch, their feet curled up under the same blanket, both occupied with their own things. Sometimes Margaery is writing, researching. Sometimes they’re just both aimlessly scrolling through their phones sending silly reels and memes back and forth a metre away from each other. Sometimes they’re watching something. Sometimes they’re napping.

First hurdle

They have made it through so many hurdles already. At this time Sansa is ready for just about anything. Let them bring it on. The trial is a hurdle. The biggest one yet.

First important news

The way Margaery had looked at her that night, had Sansa fear she’d confess to cheating or that she’d accidentally posted a screenshot of them sexting to social media. The “I’ve been nominated for a x for the story I wrote on Ramsay.” had rushed out of her so fast Sansa had barely understood it. She had followed telling her that she’d asked them to take her out of consideration, and Sansa had told her that she would do no such thing.

[granulesofsand]

Hello!

I’ve been self identified as a system for a couple years now. But I feel like the depth of my system hasn’t been exposed yet. Like the alters that front and that we are able to identify are just “surface level”, like they’re just the dumbed down version of what’s actually going on? If that makes sense?

But I still feel like there is a lot levels to my system yet to be found. Like I’m kinda locked out of my own head to some degree. I don’t know if this is a thing I should even attempt to think about? If it’s something that is better untouched. And even then I’m not sure how to unearth such things or if I’m even ready to handle the, likely emotional repercussions, of doing so.

And I’m not sure if this part of the system is being kept repressed for any certain reason or if there hasn’t been a trigger for it yet. Just confused and honestly frustrated, because it feels next to impossible to tackle healing, if I feel like I run into a block every time I dig too far.

Do you have any advice for this? I don’t want to force any certain alter to show themselves, of course, but it’s getting frustrating.

Progress in Healing

Patience

Cooperation takes time. You might not have access to those with answers or they might be holding back. You& might be together in your& exploration and all unaware.

Amnesia is not an inherently bad thing. It can be inconvenient for social expectations, but it was put up for a reason. Front-facing alters tend to have less access to traumatic materials, even/especially if the trauma is ongoing.

Healing is not a race. You can easily damage the process by pushing too far. Unless you sense a threat to your& well-being, move deliberately. Like a dark room, you need not claw down the walls if an exit lies two paces beside you. Panic will leave you with nothing but bloody nails.

Progress

That said, there are the regular steps to get through a plateau. Work on building communication (internal or external), giving one another dignity and space to exist. Trust is built slowly, but it is the best method for healing.

Trust lifts amnesia fogs if they’re playing a role. It gives the others a chance to feel themselves out, sometimes yielding more depth. It entices the weary to join you in your pursuits.

It’s bound to be a long road ahead of you, but each success will add to your momentum. A spiral staircase; you might not see the distance you’ve come, but these circles are not without purpose. You are lifted higher out of the pit with every step, so long as you keep moving forward.

That’s not our metaphor, but it is important to us. It comes from System Speak. You’ve been dropped down a well that you need to climb out of, but the only way is a spiral staircase. Each step is a little higher than before, even if the landings seem to go on forever. You might notice you’re in a similar position as a few cycles ago, but you’ve taken more steps to get here now.

Shame

Looking at shame is a good place to start. Notice how it feels and what made it like that. Sit with it for a moment, then turn towards it, then get closer and closer until you can start taking chunks off.

Things you were told growing up, cultural sentiments that made trauma hard, all the things that added salt to your drinking water over time (also not our metaphor). That helps practice being safe for the others and yourself.

Working through shame brings up issues you didn’t realize were there. You don’t always get to work through what you find, but it should give you the push you need to get moving again.

So

There is no guaranteed answer to how to heal. You don’t need to be healing constantly to be okay. Some seasons are for rest, and that is enough. The trees sleeping through the winter cold are no less for keeping well.

You should proceed however you feel safe, but look out for signs that you’re overdoing it. All wounds heal in their own time, and you have yet to receive a fatal blow. Don’t make these the reason you give out.

[monratarot]

Hi, Moni. May I ask for one free reading? Hope I still get the opportunity 🙏

My nickname is Anisah, 20+, she/her, born in June. Special event that happened in the past few week is I started painting again & I paint red roses.

I wanna ask about someone (his initials AAH, also born in June but 2 years older than me) that I really loved sincerely since 5 years ago.

We’re in a no-contact & long-distance situation now, but I just want to know about his feeling. I feel like I used to love him too much and struggled alone at that time. It’s hurt me so much, even its triggering me sometimes. Our relationship used to be very messy.

My question: How does AAH feel about me now that we are apart & no-contact?

Thank you so much & do tell me if my questions is burdensome ✨

Hello, dear @bluebutterfliese ! Thank you for your request. I hope that my reading will help you and bring clearance to your situation. 

Feedback is very much appreciated and if you consider tipping me, you can do so on my ☕️ko-fi.

Count of questions/requests and answers 9/15.

Without wasting any time, let's get into your reading!'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Tarot free readings rule⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Tarot payed readings rules 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒₊˚*ੈ🎀⸝⸝🍓✩‧₊˚Keep reading

I can see that you are dealing with someone who is cold-hearted, someone analytical, logical, cold, and calculated, nothing escapes their observation. They are kinda emotionally detached and can sacrifice their well-being for work. I can see that there is a possibility that they can come back into your life but there is a warning that they can be overbearing and too analytical for a relationship. There are a lot of signs that there is some focus on work, and career, job rather than love and relationships. Also, if this person comes back into your life there can be a love triangle situation that appears over here. It doesn't mean that it can be another person, it's just that they are not open to others being around(friends, family) or that they can bring a friend between you and them. Great signs of jealousy over here even though they are not too emotionally involved in your connection. Yes, you can see each other or discuss(can be a rapid communication) but I don't think is a connection that has balance. So if you are going to get back in this connection things can move super fast and there can be some chasing over here, but I don't have any sign of emotional involvement. It seems more like they don't want you 100% but they also don't want someone else to be with you. So you won't get anything new from this connection. Angel message: Whatever you resist in life persists. Ask your angels to help you dissolve all the resistance of your ego(the inner conflicts and struggles, the rigid mindsets and habits) so that they can flood your life with higher truth and joy. When you surrender to the guidance of your higher self, all the energy you have been using in resistance becomes available to you. Vitality, inner peace, harmony, and most of all love are your spiritual rewards.

Affirmation: I surrender to the flow of life. Wish you only the best!🍀

Moni🧚‍♀️

[jojotichakorn]

honestly, palm can sometimes be fairly accused of having his world revolve around nueng too much, but i do not think this is one of those situations at all. when you are a couple, you do plan things together. it doesn't mean that you're only thinking of the other person or not taking yourself into consideration, it just means that you are mindful of the fact that there is someone else apart from you that is now permanently in your life, and you don't make life-changing decisions without considering that fact.

there is nothing wrong with palm deciding to move to bangkok upon realizing their relationship would have to stay long-distance if he lived at the resort, which is something palm doesn't want, meaning that, while making that decision, he was thinking of his own wishes too, or maybe even primarily of his own wishes. he wants to be where his boyfriend is, and he made some rearrangements for it. and the fact that he would have planned differently if he knew nueng wouldn't be in bangkok for another two or however many years is also not indicative of him thinking of nueng only. because this is really just about palm's wishes of wanting to be with nueng being crushed rather than a life that he planned "for" nueng being crushed.

frankly, if he were only thinking of nueng, he wouldn't be so upset at this new development - he'd just instantly and excitedly support him in this new endeavor and go on waiting for him like a puppy. but he's not doing that. he's thinking of what he wanted, which was a happy settled life with his partner, for which he planned, and which now hangs in the air because his partner decided to postpone that without telling him (and, to be fair, he himself also hid the fact that he was making rearrangements for their joint future that was meant to come very soon, which is also not ok).

so really, this conflict is about two things.

firstly, it is about a certain lack of communication, which doesn't necessarily come from a bad place, but which needs to be worked on. nueng needs to take a page from my school president's tinn's book with his brave and incredibly mature approach of "i will put this fact out on the table, even if it is hard to say and can potentially hurt the other person" because - believe me nueng - hiding it eventually leads to much more hurt than dealing with it immediately. as for palm, i do think his secret is less offensive in this case, because he was absolutely sure that he and nueng were on the same page about their future, so it was more of a fun surprise kind of thing. however, palm dear, moving to a different city to start planning a future with another person is still too big a decision to equate it to a surprise birthday party and not talk about it beforehand.

but in connection with that, the second thing this conflict is about is them having different priorities and different outlooks on life in general, at least at the moment.

nueng sees their relationship as a separate entity, which is why he talks about their love and their future not just as things that are separate from each other, but things that can actually stand in the way of one another.

palm sees their relationship as an inherent part of their future. to him, the idea of their love being an obstacle to their future doesn't make any sense then, because something that is a for-sure-thing inside of that future literally can't be an obstacle to it. so what nueng is saying sounds to palm like he just doesn't see him as a part of his future, while palm is very much planning his own future around their relationship.

in fact, that conversation at the end is where we see palm falling back into his unhealthy habits of fully prioritizing nueng.

the reason why palm has this habit in the first place is because of every traumatic event that he's been through where not only was nueng's life in actual danger, but it was also literally dependant on palm. so whenever something like that happens again, it quite literally triggers palm to act like nueng is the most if not the only important thing in life (he metaphorically disregards his own wellbeing by jumping in front of the bullet directed at nueng so nueng would be fine).

and even though nueng tries to compromise (which i appreciate), i do not think it is enough. because again, i do not think that it is unhealthy of palm to build his life around his future together with nueng. his main priority is simply his romantic relationship and consequently future family. that seems pretty normal to me. but at the moment nueng's main priority is clearly his education and career (also fine btw), and that is - for the lack of a better term - a conflict of interest that cannot be resolved with one conversation, especially when its conclusion is essentially "idk i guess i can figure something out".

and if they are going to explore it further (which i hope they do, because if they for real think that conversation resolved the issue then wtf), i think it is truly a good step towards ending palm's past unhealthy habits of not taking his own wishes into consideration. because - again - him prioritizing his relationship with nueng over other things doesn't automatically mean him disregarding himself. and in fact, the future that he is planning with nueng mixed with the fact that he initially didn't just silently and obidiently accept nueng's sudden change of plans means that he is finally seriously thinking about what he wants, which just happens to be a settled life with nueng.

and that's one of the main things i want to see since we are getting a chance to revisit these characters. the new obstacles they've set up are good too and i want to see them dealing with the differences in future plans and current priorities as well as not communicating well enough, all of which can even be traced back to the original drama. but the main issue i think we were left with after the end of never let me go, which was not sufficiently explored (in my opinion), was palm sometimes entirely disregarding himself in favor of nueng. and i want to finally see them put an end to it. for good.

[goldflinches]

[ID: Screencap of a checkbox with text: "31. Medieval times where they wrote letters to each other and fell in love, then one of them stopped them stopped replying" End of ID]

okay this very dreamling coded so let me count the ways :

(part 1 ramblings about: Everyone's Human!AU and Immortal Humans!AU)

Everyone's Human!AU

Hob and Dream who met and become friends in their brief time together. But they are separated by circumstances beyond their control (war/family troubles/hidden identity shenanigans). Dream is hesitant to keep in contact in the face of the overwhelming amount of responsibilities he has but Hob convinces him to keep up a correspondence (he can be someone to rant to about all his work but Dream actually sends Hob so many personal observations of the court and the gardens and the library and the corners of his realm that's his and his alone, and just. so many stories) (Hob sends him letters about all the bawdy songs he's learned, places he's traveled and people he's met, things that remind him of (make him miss) Dream).

And they do for years and years, falling in love along the way. They keep trying to meet up but it always falls through (sometimes weather, sometimes the distance, many times it just clashes with Dream's duties). Then suddenly, Dream stops getting letters from Hob. Despite his duties, Dream sets out on a journey to find his lost love which becomes a long, winding quest that leads him to a Hob who is just barely healed from a grievous injury (maybe from a battle that left him as the only survivor or someone found out his connection to Dream and tried to take advantage of it). After Dream makes sure that Hob is truly well, Hob asks Dream what he's going to do now and Dream...doesn't want to leave Hob, doesn't want to go back to his duties, doesn't really know his place in the world without those duties. And Hob is just like okay, let's go find out then (and they do so – together).

Immortal Humans!AU

Same as above but they're immortal humans (though they don't tell each other). They've kept a long correspondence, declined seeing each other in person to keep the other from seeing that they haven't aged since the last time they saw each other 5/10/20 years past. They're both on the edge of overstaying with this current identity because they couldn't bear losing contact with each other. Hob eventually shed his current identity (outside circumstance, way too many people saw him come back to life after getting hit by an ax. in the middle of a town square. it happens.) and very reluctantly starts new. The letters stop and Dream is devastated, tries to look for Hob but finds no trace of him. He eventually fakes his death due to a close call with some self-styled magician wanting his secret for 'eternal life' or something. They both keep their letters but inevitably lose some along the way - Hob during a rough stint in the 1600s and Dream managing to keep most of them until the 1800s because he was on the run from an occultist who was convinced that he could communicate with the dead. (the whole time they are separated, they kept missing each other by a hair)

In the 21st century, they meet each other again – all because of their letters. Along the way, someone finds their letters, puts together that these letters are more or less a set, and it ends up in a 'queer love through the ages' type exhibit. Both of them see it featured on the news and rush to exhibit, trying to find a way to get their letters back, and there they meet gain – in front of the exhibit. They both understandably freak out, try 'discretely' to find out if this is just a doppelganger situation (they're neither discrete nor a doppelgangers), and they have to settle this somewhere else because their 'You're alive??!!!'/'How dare you (leave me without saying anything)' takes to higher volumes once the initial shock wears off.

They eventually hash things out, initially bonding over how to get their letters back. Eventually though, they both realize that as much as those letters meant to them, they actually have each other now and it's turning out better than back when they first met (and yes, they write each other new letters, little messages on sticky notes and misted over mirrors, dedicate papers and books to their beloved, and on and on they go).

[cimeret]

Sooo ... the thought that Obi-Wan and Dooku never met before ATOC keeps haunting me.

Honestly, in-universe it never really made sense to me. Even less so after watching TOTJ and seeing how Dooku actually cared about Qui-Gon and expressed interest in meeting Obi-Wan. It's another Anakin/Grievous situation except all the characters involved should have an active interest in making it happen. First, Qui-Gon should have introduced them to each other, second, both Dooku and Obi-Wan should have been curious to meet the other, third, while the Temple is large, how unlikely is it that they didn't run into each other once in a hallway somewhere, in the courtyard, at some official event? (It's common knowledge that, normally, you can't take two steps in the galaxy without running into some old acquaintance.) But we have Dooku's statement from AOTC and there's really no way to soft-retcon "our paths have never crossed before".

So I tried to come up with reasons that might have prevented Obi-Wan and Dooku from meeting. I guess these are more headcanons than a coherent theory, but sometimes I like to play around with ideas. (Also, this got really long and I'm not sorry)

As a Jedi, Dooku was hyper-focused on his private mission against systemic injustice and the Senate for most of his time. He was away from the Temple a lot, with his mind always on his cause, and meeting young Obi-Wan just wasn't a priority. It's not that he didn't have time or didn't care at all, it just comes down to what he chose to devote his time to. Noble cause > interpersonal relationships. TOTJ also paints him as much more of an antisocial loner than I had imagined him to be in his Jedi days. So when he was in the Temple, he probably preferred to keep to himself, so a chance meeting with Obi-Wan would be unlikely. He left the Order in 42 BBY when Obi-Wan was 15, which would mean that for 2 years Dooku seemed to have better things to do than get to know Obi-Wan. Sad. How much contact he had with the Order after he left, and when, is not entirely clear; he still visited regularly, but apparently remained less in communication with Qui-Gon.

After he started aligning himself with Sidious, he may have distanced himself even more from Qui-Gon. Up till TPM, he was still self-aware enough to see that he was on a dark & dangerous path and I think he might have been torn between wishing Qui-Gon would join him or not. Although he often said that he would have liked Qui-Gon by his side (like in AOTC to Obi-Wan; in the TOTJ episode "The Sith Lord" to Sidious), some things like the long, final look he gives Qui-Gon in their farewell scene in "The Sith Lord" make me think he was, in truth, rather conflicted. Part of him may have wished to keep the whole Sith business away from Qui-Gon, to protect him (and, by extension, Obi-Wan) from Sidious and maybe even from himself. By this point, he already killed his best friend Sifo-Dyas, the clone army deal is done by now ... there is no going back for him. So it could just as easily be the other way around: That he's distancing himself because he knows full well that his relationship with Qui-Gon is a weakness. Thus, his "I should like to meet him someday" might actually be more of an "I wish I could have met him". Not so much a desire, but more like regret. Because part of him knows it's not going to happen, not anymore (well, or at least not in the friendly family setting his statement implies). He ruined this possibility for himself for a long time, and I wonder to what extent his detachment may have been an active, perhaps even (semi-)conscious decision. One recurring theme of the Dark Side is that it asks you to kill everything you love or could potentially come to love. And Dooku is a perfect example of a character who is somehow set on making his own existence miserable, even when he has sooo many better options open to him.

As for Qui-Gon … well, I think his complicated relationship with both Obi-Wan and Dooku might have kept him from introducing them to each other. Qui-Gon clearly loves Obi-Wan, but at the same time he isn't always sure if he can be the mentor Obi-Wan needs. Their relationship is always overshadowed by the after-effects of Xanatos, Bandomeer, Melida/Daan … there are quite a few stories about how they had a little trouble connecting with each other initially. Even after they resolved most of their issues, there may always be a bit of uncertainty left, an unspoken strain on their relationship. And how is Dooku going to factor into this? What if Dooku destroys this balance they've managed to achieve? Because for as much as Qui-Gon respects and loves Dooku, he also knows of his reckless, destructive tendencies. I mean ... even as a Jedi, Dooku has always been pretty dark and creepy at times (yk, Force-choking or Force-lightning people) and yes, maybe Qui-Gon has come to grips with it and they have learned to live with this dynamic (as you do) and have grown together to form a reliable team. Something that works, but again, it's not perfect. And again, there's a lot of underlying uncertainty here -- I think that is nicely illustrated in some of the books where Qui-Gon reflects about how Dooku's & Rael's relationship feels so very different from Dooku's & Qui-Gon's.

And now adding Obi-Wan to that mix? Well, for starters, I think Dooku would find a lot to criticize about Qui-Gon's teaching methods and point out both his and Obi-Wan's flaws, question some of their choices … there are too many directions this could go that end up hurting Obi-Wan. And of course Qui-Gon would defend Obi-Wan and himself, but it would still bring things to light that are uncomfortable. Because Qui-Gon is a little bit Obi-Wan's Dooku and a little bit Dooku's Obi-Wan. In a way, he balances both of them, so he can't have them clash. He would have to question himself, his life choices, and two of his closest relationships. Or what if it goes in the opposite direction? What if Obi-Wan's latently rebellious and questioning nature is further spurred on by Dooku? To what extent would Obi-Wan even listen to and trust his master's guidance, to what extent might he be inclined to listen to Dooku instead? I always thought that in an alternate universe, Obi-Wan and Dooku might find a lot in common if they just happen to meet under the right circumstances (though I have to admit that I just like seeing the two of them together, so I'm probably biased).

Ultimately, it boils down to how Qui-Gon might be harboring the subconscious thought that he is not living up to expectations. Not to his master, not to his padawan. And maybe he's made peace with that individually, but the moment the three of them come together? That's where the established dynamics shift. It could hurt and end badly, or it might have saved some things in the long run (but knowing Star Wars, it's more likely to be the former). My point is, Qui-Gon may not have been actively or intentionally trying to keep them apart. But he didn't necessarily encourage them to meet either, and deep down he may have been relieved that it never came to that.

Obi-Wan had a lot on his plate during his apprenticeship and getting to know Dooku was probably not high on his list of priorities either. And I'm thinking of the scene in the Padawan book by Kiersten White where Dooku and Obi-Wan almost meet. And how Obi-Wan spends a lot of time angsting that Qui-Gon might join Dooku and leave him and the Order behind. On the one hand, it's so sad to see how Obi-Wan, even after years, is still not feeling completely secure in his relationship with Qui-Gon, but on the other hand, it also seems like Obi-Wan perceives Dooku as a threat, as someone who could potentially take Qui-Gon away from him. Side note: I found the language and use of words rather interesting in some places … Dooku collecting Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon being lured by him … yeah, Obi-Wan clearly has some feelings about this whole scenario. That's probably why he wasn't so keen on meeting Dooku. Which is funny in it's own way, considering how Dooku later tries to lure in Obi-Wan. But as far as Obi-Wan is concerned, that seems like a strong argument that I think could explain why he's actively avoiding Dooku.

But what about before, when Dooku was still a part of the Order? Obi-Wan, especially in his younger years, always tried so hard to be a perfect Jedi. At first glance, that should absolutely motivate him to seek contact with an older, experienced Jedi, especially if said Jedi is his master's master and one of Yoda's former apprentices. It also wouldn't have been a bad idea to subtly ask Dooku for stories about Qui-Gon; that might have helped Obi-Wan with his fears and doubts regarding his master. Apparently, Qui-Gon always spoke highly of Dooku, so Obi-Wan should have no reason to dislike meeting him. But I assume by the time Obi-Wan had somehow settled into his apprenticeship and was ready to tackle his problems, Dooku probably already had his reputation as a less-than-perfect Jedi. Surely Obi-Wan picked up a story or two from other Jedi, and he certainly didn't like all of them. Perhaps Dooku already seemed to him like a darker version of Qui-Gon (or, if you want to stretch it, even of himself), and that might have kept Obi-Wan from wanting to meet him.

Bottom line: everyone's messed up and they know it.

If you actually read through all of this, thank you so much and let's take a moment to commemorate their fake family reunion!

(Bless this gif! It's so beautiful, I'm sobbing)

Would be very much interested in reading more opinions and thoughts on this topic because I'm clearly a tiny bit too invested in this!

(Edited some numbers because apparently I can't do math. Sorry. Assuming Obi-Wan became Qui-Gon's padawan around 44 BBY and Dooku left around 42 BBY, the time Obi-Wan and Dooku were both members of the Order would be 2 years at most, not 4. Makes me feel slightly better!)

[nytehavyn-circle]

NyteHavyn and Rhys

About NyteHavyn and Rhys

((This is very important, so please pay attention and respect it:  As with the ShadowLands for Tolaas Bluue, NyteHavyn and Rhys are also my babies and constructs from my imagination spanning over the years in various forms - RPs, short stories, etc.  As with the ShadowLands, please do not start changing/adding/subtracting things about the castle and the town of Rhys without coming to me first and explicitly discussing it.))

–

NyteHavyn is the name of a very, very large, 4-storey (soon to be 5 stories) castle at the edge of a large town by the name of Rhys.

Rhys and NyteHavyn reside in London, England, UK - in a bubble dimension - within London, just at the edge of Hyde Park. This means that crossing through a specific line of trees at the edge of Hyde Park will lead you through a small woodland area, and up a trail until you reach the borders of the town of Rhys.  From Rhys, (and the Castle) you can see London (and the possibility of seeing other places) but from London (or other places), you cannot see Rhys. (Unless, of course, as previously mentioned - you happen to ‘stumble’ upon through the treeline at Hyde Park.) Keep in mind that this bubble dimension also connects to the multiverse. It is not able to be seen from anywhere, it is only able to be invited into or stumbled into. (As explained below).

Both NyteHavyn castle - especially the castle - and the town of Rhys are built on a convergence of leylines, which helps increase the magicks used to keep the dimensional bubble hidden and increases the ability and spells of those magic-users who live within NyteHavyn's stone walls, or in the town.

Ah, but why hasn’t anyone and everyone stumbled upon Rhys?  Because only those who truly know how to find it - or those who are meant to find it - will.   If you cross a treeline at one edge of the park, and instead of finding yourself just on the edge of Hyde Park, find yourself in a little woodland area moving up a trail?  You were meant to find Rhys. And this holds true for wherever you are in the multiverse.

Rhys is a town that is home to many a being - human, vampire, angel, demon, you name it.  Many consider themselves outcasts, even among their own kind.  Either tired of the violence, the bloodshed, or the hate that permeates their kind, their soul, their very existence, they have come to Rhys - a place where all manner can get along without judgment.  Sometimes, they just pop in for a mini-vacation of sorts. Keep in mind that the bubble dimension grows as Rhys grows.

The town of Rhys looks as if it was cobbled together from different eras. There are old west-style buildings, completely with wooden walkways; cobblestone roads with small, village-style homes on either side; some areas have tall high-rises, and other places have regular-sized homes; apartment buildings, a town square complete with little market stands; homes and houses, both modern and futuristic; roads that go straight and connect with other roads, roads that stop at dead ends, roads that curve around back on themselves.

The town was built by and for the beings who would live there. The building of the town was helped along by gods, godlike beings, and magic users of all kinds. It was built to reflect the era of each expansion and to reflect the style of living a lot of the beings would be used to.

Also, the castle sits atop a large hill in the distance and can be seen from almost anywhere in Rhys.

Now, NyteHavyn, Terran Nytefyer’s castle, is also such a place in Rhys.  He has opened his doors over the centuries to those who need a place to stay, to live; a place of comfort, or a place to call home.  All manner of persons are welcome, as long as they obey the rules.

If you manage to stumble upon Rhys, and subsequently NyteHavyn, then you are welcome - for you are here for a reason.  However, you are expected to contribute to the community in some way or fashion.  Help around the castle, help around the town; however and whatever your skills may be.  This town, this castle, could not continue to survive as it has without the help of its residents. (Also, the castle very much might be alive, in its own way, from the centuries of different people living there, and the kindness that happens there.)

The castle property, itself, is on the edge of Rhys, but can be seen from pretty much anywhere in the town - that’s how large it is.  The property of NyteHavyn is surrounded by a wrought-iron gate.  The gate entrance consists of two large gate doors which bear an insignia of a T and an N entwined together.

Just inside the gates in a stone path, either side trailed along with various flowers and bushes, which lead to two very large double doors; the entrance to the castle.  Just inside the doors is a large foyer.  Just past the foyer is a large sitting room, where people can sit and talk, read, lounge in front of a fireplace, get to know one another, etc.

The First Floor of the castle has an unspecified number of living quarters, each with a double-king, four-poster, curtain-covered bed.  These rooms can be decorated any way the resident likes. However, due to the magicks and forces originally used to create both the town and the castle, both are constantly growing (or shrinking) in size to accommodate more (or less) residents who join either the town or the castle. Much like another device in popular media, the castle is bigger on the inside.

The First Floor also contains a double-sized restaurant-type kitchen; always fully stocked (and open 24 hours to castle residents, even when kitchen staff is not on duty).  There is an ice skating rink, roller skating rink, bowling alley, game room (which contains several large, widescreen, HDTVs, with game consoles, air hockey tables, Foosball tables, and much more), very large dining room, a large Hall (meant for parties, dancing, practice, whatever); there is also a very large workout room/training room/gym; also, on this first floor is one of the largest libraries in the world.  On one end of the first floor is a mini-movie theater (30 seats); on the other end of the first floor houses its very own hospital wing, complete with some of the best doctors and surgeons in the world (not all human, of course.)

Consists of one giant aquarium around the perimeter of the second floor. This includes plenty of forms of marine life (including a mermaid by the name of Hope).  If asked how it’s possible to have an aquarium of such on the second floor, Terran will most likely answer “A bit of magic,” and smile.   The second floor also contains around 500 bedrooms, all with an underwater theme (which, yes, like the bedrooms on the first floor, can be decorated in any way one wishes).  There is also an Olympic-sized swimming pool, hot tubs, saunas, a massage room.

The third floor contains more bedrooms, of course; there are several art rooms for those who enjoy painting, sculpting, etc.; several music rooms; also, several classrooms for those who wish to take classes in whatever field of study they wish.  It also contains several mid-sized rooms with computers.  This floor is also considered a school floor.  Those who wish can attend, get degrees in practically anything.  

The fourth floor contains more bedrooms; however, the fourth floor also contains the main security system/computer room, plus a very large science lab.

The entire castle is wired with cameras almost everywhere (except for the bathrooms, bedrooms, and changing rooms).  There are also intercoms in every hallway and every room.

There is a dungeon basement.  There is only speculation as to why Terran had it built as part of the castle. No one really wants to find out why.

The castle residents, and servants, are a mixture of everything from fully human to demon, to angel, to dragons in human form.

Here, they have found a home, they have found a bit of peace within themselves.  And quite a few have also found love.

May You Find Hope Waiting.

[haadeswrites]

Elysium

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

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

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

The island itself is breathtaking

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d like to hate her. 

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

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

“I always go,” you reply.

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

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

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

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

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

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

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

Every inch a king and his general.

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

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

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

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

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

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–But not to lie down.

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

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

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

You and Ryuji.

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

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

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

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

“Lost?”

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

Slowly, you turn. 

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

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

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

You’re tired. 

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

… Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

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

“Go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

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

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

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door opens.

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

Time slows. 

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

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

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

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

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

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

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

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

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

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

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

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

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

“Iwa.” 

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

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

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

He isn’t wrong though. 

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

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

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

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

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Death begets life, just as he promised.

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

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

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

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

—

“Look, look!” 

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

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

[80s4life]

Little Dove*

Word Count: 3,949

Status: Not Requested!

A/N: Had a thought lol

Fandom: Karate Kid 1985

Relationship: John Kreese x Student!Female Reader

Summary: You had stayed around throughout all of his bullshit. Throughout the beginning of a forever-long battle with Daniel LaRusso, throughout losing all of his Cobra Kais, going through crippling debt, and now, more than ever, as he tries to put himself together. You’ve been there, the whole time. So why is it, that when a random man from his past appears, all of his problems are fixed without a glance your way? What does this Terry Silver have that you don’t (besides endless money and a history)? It’s unfair. It’s selfish. It’s Kreese.

Taglist: @intersellars-the-alien-of-human @snapessecretdiary

Warnings: smut, teasing, jealousy, age-gap paring, language, Terry being an overprotective cockblock, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight dubcon, daddy/little girl kink, degrading kink

Masterlist Karate Kid Masterlist

{not my gif, credits belong to @atmostories​}

I just love how innocent he looks here lol ^

Staring into the window of his office, you make no attempt in engaging in the conversation your peers were having, the people on the other side of the glass proving to be more interesting at the moment. Besides, it’s the same conversation over and over again, “Terry’s so great,” “The money,” “The brawn,” “The elegance,” you snort. All that Terry was anyway was trouble with enough money to pay off his stupidity. 

The other man, however, was different. He did not become as fortunate as his younger companion. He went through many hardships that Terry would simply never understand. The proof: you. You had been there, through thick and thin. You can still remember the fights, injuries, and brokenness of a man like a slideshow constantly playing in your head, haunting your dreams. You should’ve left a long time ago, but you didn’t. There were points in your life that made you consider dropping him and everything he was in contact with at one point. But, yet again, you never did. All you did was forgive and forget, most of the time without apologies.

But no matter how much you’ve tried, there was always one outlier that couldn’t be erased. 

Holding onto your brothers shoulder, you congratulate him on how well he’d done. He lost the tournament, but it was his heart that shined through it. Johnny was the one who handed LaRusso his trophy even as they were beating each other senseless moments ago. Pulling him in tightly, you whisper, “You did good, Blondie. We’ll get ‘em next year.” 

He smiles broadly at this, returning the favor, “You didn’t do too bad yourself, Tiny. Hell, maybe next year, you’ll be the one to beat his ass for me... That, or you’ll be the same height as him,” he ruffles your hair.

“Shut up!” you swat his hands playfully, shouldering his side, then making your way over to the man of the hour. “Congratulations,” you outstretch your hand, “You were tough to beat! I’ll get ya one day though!” you point to him smiling as Johnny pulls you out of the arena with him.

“Thanks...Oh, and I’ll hold you to it!” he yells back, lifting his trophy high above his head. You leave with a sly smirk and playful roll of the eyes, not bad LaRusso.

Walking outside, you smile at Kreese nervously, knowing that he wasn’t going to take the loss lightly. Ignoring you completely, he snatches your brother from your grasp within moments, pinning him the the nearest car in the parking lot. With Johnny under the weight of Kreese, you try to yank him off, no longer in fear of your actions but what could happen if you don’t act fast. Shoving you out of the way with a hard jab of his elbow to your eye, Kreese goes back to harming your brother, switching positions as he goes to tighten his arm around Johnny’s neck.

Tommy, fearing for his life, stands still, on the verge of passing out. Dutch goes to help you up, pulling you away from Kreese’s proximity, but not for long. Full of anger and disappointment, you tear you body away from Dutch’s, giving him a stern look that he acknowledges and respects, stepping back. You run towards Kreese once more, putting more force into your pushes and shoves. He catches your eyes for a moment, anger glazing over his own as he gets a good look at the utter helplessness and determination within your own. He doesn’t loosen up though, tightening his hold even more so as if to test you. 

Lunging once more, he blocks you from him and counters with a hard blow to your face. You fall again at Kreese’s feet, Johnny’s purpling face looking down at yours in fear and worry. As you go to make a final attempt, your prayers are answered, a man about your height grabbing Kreese’s fist in a vice grip. In a daze, Johnny is able to slip from his hold to the ground beneath him, falling into your outstretched arms as you lunge, again, to protect his head. Kreese, now turning his fury onto the short man, goes for a punch, missing and smashing the glass beside his target.

As the fight starts to get worse, Dutch gets a hold of Johnny, taking his weight off of yours and dragging him to safety. Jimmy and Bobby, going to help Dutch, leaves Tommy to help you up. Taking his hand gratefully, you are able to see Kreese’s demise clearly, a burning crimson decorating his now busted fists, no doubt shredded and in need of medical care. You turn back just in time for him to look your way, grief washing over your figure as you feel a sense of uncertainty. 

The boys get into Johnny’s car quickly, pulling out of the car lot. Tommy, silently turning his calming body to yours, questions you with his eyes. Shaking your head lightly, you signal for him to go with them, your head hazy with the brute force of numerous blows previously clashing with your face. He nods knowingly, smiling weakly, as if questioning your motives or even why you were considering the choice you’d made up. Johnny looks back at you too, but is reassured as the short man, Mr. Miyagi, places a hand on your shoulder. As they peel out of the lot, you sigh and all the strength you’d conjured dropped instantly.

“You need checkup,” the older man states, looking you over.

“Yeah, but I need to take care of him first,” you point at the man.

“Ah. Good heart always forgives. You come by dojo sometime.”

“I’ll think about it,” you answer, kindly excusing yourself as LaRusso runs over to Miyagi, leaving just you and Kreese left in the parking lot.

Slowly, you pace yourself as to not speed too closely, too quickly to the man, walking lightly and quietly. Upon entering a close proximity, he looks up, neutral expression catching you off guard. Blinking once, he looks back down at his continuously bleeding hands, acknowledging your presence but not daring to step the line of communication. He never does.

“Do you...Do you n- ...?” you start, at a loss for words as you try to rephrase the question in a way to still make him feel superior without appearing weak to himself, “Do you want my help?”

He doesn’t say anything as an answer, just simply stares at the reddening hands.

So, following his chosen behavior, you adopt it and act the same. Slowly, you take off your fleece sweater, soft and warm to the touch, and move closer to Kreese. As you move into his personal space, you don’t dare look him in the eyes, and go to rip a piece of the sweater in half. Silently, you carefully take one of his hands in your own, them swallowing yours in turn. Wrapping the now torn cloth around his fists, you slightly tighten the material around the injury to prevent further bleeding, tying off the ends to keep the sweater where you want it. Turning to do the same for the other hand, Kreese never winces, or sucks in a breath, or even grunts in anguish.

As you finish your duty, you step back, parts of your hands and some of your pants now coated in differing amounts of blood from the constant dripping mess he’d left it in for a while. Taking in a deep breath, you look at him directly for the first time of the night, “Get in the car.”

That was the first of many nightmares that litter your mind. You grew into a tough, headstrong, and independent woman not only physically, but mentally as well. You were no longer the child looked down from the tip of Kreese’s nose, and despite your height not making much of a difference, you had filled into your body, soul, and mind. You were a woman nonetheless.

You were understood by Johnny, but to an extent. As you had continued to serve Kreese, it was only right that Johnny distanced himself from him, and with that, came you as well. You accepted this, and knew that you were not at war with him, settling for calls and texts when you missed him most. Johnny still allowed you the time to talk about your problems like you did in high school, and even let you rant about the newest situation with Kreese. Everyday, he worried for you, but he knew that this was what you wanted. 

He knew you fell for him before you even had.

After that night, you went through phases with Kreese: sometimes he was happy and nice to you, other times was full of anger, arguments, and nonstop screaming at one another. You were like an old married couple without the ring, matrimony, and age. You didn’t pay any mind to it, the mixture of feelings for him stronger than the will to leave as you’d wanted to in your youth.

But overall was the feeling of betrayal, or at least a form of it. For 4 years, after the night of the failed tournament, you were with Kreese, and finally, when things started to clear themselves out, another problem arose. Although shit out of luck, Kreese was ready to give up the dojo, give it to the owner, and move on in hopes of wiping the slate clean. You were ready to forgive him. And then, Terry Silver, unable to let the past be the past, convinced Kreese to give it a second try.

Now as you sit in a circle with Dennis, Mike, and Snake on the mat of the dojo, doing some stretches before training starts, you couldn’t help but look at the men excluding you from something you had tried to keep alive as long as they had. Longer than Terry at least. 

Snapping sounds through your frustrated haze, knocking you back into reality by Snake’s fingers. Scrunching your nose in confusion, you look at him, anger now turned towards him instead. “You keep drooling like that and we’ll all be slipping around and breaking shit. Then how would we be at the tournament?”

“Fuck you, Snake,” you get up, stomping to the office without another word. He just turns a mock-offended expression to the boys who give confused ones in return.

Storming into the small cubicle deemed an office, you turn to the men standing side-by-side. “Aw, what’s the matter sweetheart? The boys not playing fair?” Terry teases, trying to push your buttons.

Face now reddened with anger, you spit, “We don’t pay for you to sit around in your office and play with each other’s dicks. You can do that on your own time.”

“You don’t pay period as far as I’m concerned. And last time I checked, you weren’t of much use here anyways, Shortcake,” Terry rebuttals.

“And last time I checked, you're just here to tie your hair back, paint your nails, torture a kid half your age and an man even older than you.”

“Why you-!”

“Terry!” Kreese warns, a hand placed on his comrades’ chest, “It’s not worth your time, just go get the boys readied up for practice.”

“Sure...sure Johnny, I can do that,” he says eagerly, leaving the room with a side glance your way and elbow to the shoulder as he passes by.

Getting up from the back of the desk, Kreese loops around to close the office door, going back to where he was previously. “Wow, you really have that dog under wraps huh? Ready to bark when you say ‘bark’ or growl when you say ‘growl’?”

“Y/N, not now. You better cut this shit out now or I’ll kick you out,” he warns.

“Oh, so now your protecting him?! You’re going to sit here, right now, and threaten me for what? Because he served with you? Because you saved him?! What a load of shit!”

“Watch your mouth! You have no right to raise your voice to me! What I do with this dojo is none of your damn business, and will certainly never concern you. Ever.”

“Oh yeah! For sure! What did he even do, huh? What’s so great about him that is worth protecting his ass for when he’s never had to do anything in return?! I was there John! I was! I dealt with your shit for 4 years! Not 1! Not 2! Not even fucking 3!”

“I never told you to! No one was stopping you from walking out that damn door when everyone else had! I would’ve done perfectly fine without your ‘help’ when all it did was provide extra shit to take care of!”

“Really?! That’s what it was? Nothing? I dealt with your anger issues, your screaming! The god damn punches, kicks, spits, screams, hell anything you wanted to do in order to harm someone else to make you feel better! But that wasn’t me... No... Of course it wasn’t, right?”

“I’ve got no time for this. Stay in this fucking room and don’t move. You even dare come out into that dojo and you’re out. I have a winner to make and not some little girl to argue with.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, tears pooling at the bottom of your eyelids as the door hides you from view.

For hours, you sit in boredom, listening to the repetitive “hut” or “ah” as blow after blow is thrown into the dummies and punching bags. If only they could do that to me, take me out of my misery for fuck’s sake. But, despite the utter pissed state you were in, you did not move from the desk, even deciding to take a nap. It wasn’t until Dennis’ unusually loud laugh is echoed within the whole dojo do you finally wake back up. Looking through the blinds, you see the boys getting packed up. Doing the same, you walk out of the office just in time for Terry to leave with the boys a few moments later.

Speeding across the length of the mats, you take long strides in order to storm as fast as possible out of the cage that holds the biggest chains around your neck. Going for the door, you are unable to catch yourself as Kreese grabs your hand and flips you onto your back, splaying your body on the mats beneath you.

Groaning, you move to sit up, watching as he goes to lock the door to the dojo, throwing the keys somewhere and closing the blinds of the big glass panes adorning the front wall. Getting up, the harbored anger floods your being once more, “I’m done with your bullshit Kreese. Let me the fuck out so I can leave this place once and for all. You seem to be doing ‘perfectly fine’ with your boyfriend, so let me go!”

Without answering, he grabs you by the neck firmly, but not enough to choke you. The memories of Johnny instantly flood your mind, causing you to grab his hand just as tight, eyes peering straight into his. Noticing your change in demeanor, he loosens his hold a little and pushes your back up against the closest wall to your back. As your back collides with the wall, his lips clasp yours.

Whining in surprise, you go to pull back only for him to pull you closer by the neck. Realization dawns on you after a moment, and within seconds, your leaning into his touch absentmindedly. You only break apart once your lungs beg for more air. “There. Is that what you wanted?” he asks you, voice gravelly.

Ignoring his comment, you grab him by the nape of his neck, pulling him into you once again, tongue battling his own. Your tongue dances around, observing every crevice and tasting every bit of his mouth, grazing his teeth, biting his lips, and even tangling it with his. Taking control back, he shoves your body back into the wall, separating your mouth from his, a trail of saliva the only thing connecting your bodies.

His hand, long forgotten and hanging loose on your neck, tightens the grip back up firmly once again and moves his other to pin your arms above your head. Now basking in dominance, he kisses you once more, pinning his knee between your legs in the most delicious way. Taking advantage of the placement, you attempt to grind your core against his thigh to relieve some tension. 

“Ah. Ah. Ah,” he warns, pulling his knee away and moving to unbuckle his belt instead, “On your knees, Slut.”

Obeying instantly, you do as he says and place yourself on your knees. Finally undoing the tie of his gi, he pulls his pants, alongside his underwear, down just enough to let his dick spring free. Gulping in admiration, you take in the view of his girth and length, precum oozing at the tip.

“Looks like your happy to see me,” you joke, loosening your tension in your shoulders.

Stepping closer, Kreese edges closer to your mouth, and, taking the hint, you wrap one hand around the base of his shaft. Your other hand, deciding teasing is the best get-back, wraps itself closer to the tip, thumb grazing the slit. Earning a shudder of pleasure from the man, he goes to move in closer again. Pulling your head away, you squeeze the tip loosely, staring up at Kreese.

At your locked gaze, his cheeks burn bright pink, enabling you to give the man what he wants now that he’s at a loss for words and flustered for you. Taking him into your mouth little by little, you stop just before the barricade of choking. Eyes locked onto his, you place your hands on either side of his hips for support, then take him in as fully as physically possible. Instantly, you are met by struggling moans of relief.

Swirling your tongue around and lapping at his veiny member, he struggles to control himself, the undying need for more consuming him. Pulling away just enough to keep the tip in your mouth, you nod at him, giving him the okay to do as he pleases. That was all he needed to start going, pulling your mouth around his cock again, and tangling his hands in your hair for a better grip. Thrusting into your mouth now, you try your best to breathe as you feel him start twitching, knowing you will be fine in a few minutes.

The closer he gets to ecstasy, the louder he gets, hips thrusting in any possible direction as his pleasure threatens to bubble over. “Look at me,” he orders, looking you in the eyes. Slightly confused, you do as told, looking at him through your eyelashes as he continuously uses your mouth. “That’s it, Good Girl.”

Without warning, he unleashes his load into your mouth, the hot and sticky cum shooting to the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow. Licking up the remains, you make a show of swallowing the contents as well, getting back onto your feet with a help of his hand. Pulling your body into his, he kisses you deeply, tasting himself.

You whine as you are still left in uncomfortable need for him, having not gotten your share just yet, the feeling of being filled a painful reminder. “Don’t worry, Daddy’ll take care of you.” And that, he does, getting to work on untying your gi and throwing the long-sleeved shirt over you head. Doing the same to him, you match his enthusiasm, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the room. 

Playing with your clothed breasts, Kreese slips a hand under your bra to pinch your nipples, twisting them between his middle and fore fingers. Moaning, you pull him into your chest nibbling his ear. Gliding his hands down your sides and to your waist, he slowly edges his fingers slightly underneath your pants, pushing them down with your panties. As he busies himself with your clothes, you move your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, breasts springing free and instantly hardening at the new temperature of the room.

Fingers, teasing your entrance, catches you off-guard, moaning again at the first shocks of pleasure. “Kreese,” you start breathlessly, “Enough is enough. Mgh... Stop teasing me,” you try to order, impatient and horny.

“As you wish, Princess.”

Lifting up one of your legs and wrapping it around his hipbone, he lines himself up with your entrance, entering slowly. Together, you sigh in ease simultaneously. Nodding once, you lean your forehead underneath his chin, starting to thrust slowly. Knowing this isn’t the pace he prefers, and body adjusting to his shape, you pull him in closer, whispering in his ear, “Faster, Daddy.”

Jolting at the name, he fastens the pace, grinding in rougher strokes, rubbing every part of you body in the best way possible. No one’s ever filled you the way he is now, and it leaves you stunned in a trance of utter euphoria. Tapping your other leg, you hop up to warp both legs around Kreese. At the new angle, he thrusts upwards, the overstimulation causing you to shake in a new sensation. 

Squeezing his dick tightly, you try to hold your orgasm off for as long as possible, but the building want of release causes you to topple over the edge quickly, spilling all over the body still within your own. Without faltering, Kreese continues his assault on your body, causing you to scream out in the fury of pleasure being all too much for you. Shaking harder, you struggle to keep yourself around his body for long.

Seeing this, Kreese keeps himself sheathed in your cunt, laying you on your back against the mats of the flooring. Grabbing your legs, Kreese bends them until your thighs meet your chest. Then, thrusting at the same pace as before, Kreese is able to fuck you senseless without further issues. Moaning screams of ecstasy echo throughout the dojo, the combination of yourself and the slapping of skin being the only noises in the room.

As quickly as you’d built up the previous time, your orgasm and need of release forms again, your pussy throbbing in anticipation.  “Kreese..” is all you manage, the older man quickly teetering towards the edge with you. Thrusting the hardest he had the whole night, he manages only a few more before you both come at the same time, screaming as you pull him down by the neck and into your chest, your name falling from his tongue in multiples.

Sucking in as much air as possible, Kreese and you stay in the same position panting before he unsheathes himself and collapses next to you. Catching your breath, you cuddle into his side in a naked heap of sweat and satisfaction. “Are you still jealous of Terry now?”

“It depends, am I still as useless as before?”

“I don’t believe so,” Kreese giggles, “but if you pull another crazy stunt like that, I will really have to give you a good beating. Huh, Babydoll?”

“I like the sound of that,” you say, going to straddle his hips as he lays on his back, “How about round two and I’ll consider not ripping his throat out?”

“Deal.”