#last year haunts me every day in some form or another

[traumacodedtransbitch]

I swear I thought I was doing better last year, now I swear I need therapy just for how much I was profoundly triggered in terms of my trauma and mental illnesses by that completely abhorrent horror show. I need MORE therapy for that alone. Godddd when in my life will I have PEACE.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

[sleepydeprived]

A Chance for Redemption

—A mysterious high school student appears out of the blue, bearing the face of the late Martha Wayne and puzzling even Gotham's greatest detectives.

[chapter 3]

Mama I’m Chasing A Ghost.

| Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Reader

The floor-to-ceiling windows of my bedroom looked out onto the manicured gardens of the estate, and in the distance, was a view of Gotham that never seemed to change.

The same scenery, the same routine.

The butlers, the maids, the drivers who ferried me from one lavish location to another.

Every day was like the last, but with one major exception;

Gotham Academy

For the first time in my life, I had been thrust into a world that wasn’t mine. My mother had insisted I’d go, telling me it was for my own good. I was homeschooled my entire life, my education confined to private tutors and digital classes.

That is.. until my mother moved me to a prestigious school a few months ago. I don’t know what changed her mind. She was always so hellbent on keeping my life private. Her sweet little girl that only she knew about.

But now here I am attending a school that is closely watched by weird, content-hungry journalists and creepy paparazzis hoping to catch a photograph of children with high titles.

Nevertheless, I felt like an outsider. A puzzle that didn’t quite fit. I was the new kid—the girl who came out of nowhere.

But being an outsider didn’t automatically mean loner.

My presence didn’t go unnoticed.

I was different. People knew it, felt it, and stared. Maybe it was the fact that I came from a family—a clan—that held such an influence over Gotham’s elites. I was basically one relative away from a famous celebrity or a corrupt politician.

But, of course, there was also the resemblance to Martha Wayne.

It was a ghost of a resemblance, really, but it haunted me all the same. From the first day I stepped onto campus, I heard the whispers;

She looks like Martha Wayne.

The wife of Thomas Wayne?

She could be her daughter...

Or granddaughter.

It had started out as idle speculation, but as the days passed, the gossip only grew.

People stared, talked behind my back, and pointed at me when they thought I wasn’t looking. They didn't know me, but they had already formed an opinion. The mystery girl. The girl who had somehow, inexplicably, appeared out of nowhere. The girl who had the same smile, the same eyes, the same air of dignity and grace as Gotham’s most beloved figure. The figure whose tragic death had left an indelible mark on the city.

I had never cared for the attention. In fact, I hated it. I’m not interested in being some object of fascination, and that’s just how I was raised. I’m not Martha Wayne nor am I related to her—or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. The more people asked, the more I pushed that idea away. But the whispers were constant.

It made me think. A lot. So much more than what I preferred.

And suddenly, the buried thoughts from childhood of who and where my biological father was came rushing back.

Ever since I was a child, I had learned to bury my feelings—bury the questions about my father, and why my mother wouldn’t speak of him. There had been one conversation about it, years ago when my mother still had the time to let me in her study.

"Your father is not someone you need to concern yourself with," mother had said, her voice cold and stern. "Do not ask about him. Do not seek him. He is not a part of your life. Understand?"

And now, in the halls of Gotham Academy, that memory itched at me, more often than ever before. The bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, but I didn’t hurry to leave. I stood at my locker, staring at my reflection in the shiny surface of the metal.

Do I look like her?

————————

taglist:

@leeleecats @mariadvorak @deans-spinster-witch @rainlovewrites @xoacesgf @whiteoakoak @uknowimdumb @otterluver05

[argisthebulwark]

I'm Glad I Get Forever

summary: Asking your partner if they'll fall for someone else after you've died. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Teldryn, Balimund, Mercer, Farkas, Vilkas, Miraak, Arnbjorn, Brynjolf, Cicero warnings: non graphic mentions of death/grief obv masterlist

Yes

Teldryn ponders the question, feet propped comfortably on your lap. He enjoys evenings like this; sharing a bottle of wine miles from the nearest town, nothing but the stars to keep you company. For weeks you'd swapped stories until there was nothing left to tell - you knew each other too well. Asking each other questions became an easy way to stave off boredom. "I suppose." He sighs, watching your brows raise. "We both know you'd give me some deathbed speech about how you want me to keep living, cursing me to seek a new patron willing to drag me across Tamriel. Can't have my talents going to waste." He's right, of course. Teldryn's always right.

Balimund knows he will never seek out romance - he hadn't even sought you out, merely a series of happy accidents that led you into his heart. A blacksmith made a fair partner for a warrior, romance blossoming over years spent haggling over his forge. "If it happened organically, don't think I'd sabotage it." He muses, stretching out the sore muscles in his shoulder. The thought of you passing makes him feel a bit ill but he brushes past it, trusting in armor crafted by his own hands to keep you safe. "You'll always be my heart, but I've got a feelin' you wouldn't want me to end up alone."

Mercer says yes, the lie slipping easily between gritted teeth. He's already let you get too close and he can't pass up the perfect opportunity to force a bit of distance. He refuses to let you know the horrible truth he harbors deep in his chest - he cares for you. Rolling his eyes he pointedly ignores the cute divot between your brows. "Of course." He lies, panic clawing at his throat at the mere thought of losing you. "Maybe I'll find someone who bothers me less."

Farkas has to sit with your question, rolling it around in his mind. His gut reaction is to refuse - no one else could capture his heart as you have, right? Though, he hadn't expected to fall for you either. It could happen again. "Maybe a few decades later, after I've mourned and all that." He offers, though he simply cannot see a future for himself without you; your home built together, your family growing with age, your hands healing every little wound. It is only you. "Seems unlikely for you to go first, though."

No

Vilkas declines without a second thought. He doesn't even look up from his book, apparently unfazed by your question. There's a cute flush creeping up his cheeks, though you bite back the urge to comment on it. "I know you'd haunt me." He mutters, kissing your knuckles. "I'll keep an eye out for your ghost, though. Don't think that would count as seeing someone else."

Miraak is disgusted by the thought. He cannot fathom living life alone once more, the idea of another partner taking your place making him feel sick. You'd carved out space in his old heart, no other could fill the void left by your absence. "Each of my days would be too heavy without you, my love." Intense as always, he clutches your face. "You are the sole resident of my heart. I fear that I would not last long in this life without you - I would soon follow you into whatever afterlife will accept my tainted soul."

Arnbjorn rolls his eyes at your question. It's quite fun getting under his skin, though you keep that thought to yourself. Even if you know he will never harm you, he is sharpening a freshly formed dagger. "I didn't even want to fall for you, I'm not doing this again." He grunts, pointedly ignoring your excited gasp. "You're it for me." "I had no idea you could be sweet." "Shut it." He snarks, the blunt edge of his blade swinging toward where you're perched on his workbench. "Or your death will become more than a hypothetical."

Brynjolf's heart cannot withstand another, losing you would be too much. Your words remind him of those awful days he thought Mercer had stolen you from him - the pit he'd fallen into, the despair sitting so heavily on his chest. He cannot imagine living with the gnawing, ceaseless pain your loss would create once more. "Never." He doesn't find the humor in your question, holding you a bit tighter to his chest when you fall into bed. There is no one else for him. Brynjolf's known this for ages, you are the love of his life.

Cicero giggles at your question - how silly! His funny Listener, no one else can ever measure up to you. Only you understand him. Mother's chosen, his most beloved Listener, you are love to him. "Funny Listener, don't make Cicero laugh." He sighs, pinching at your cheeks. "Your jokes have gotten better - it seems you're taking after your favorite jester!" "I was serious." "Never, ever, ever, ever!" He sings, planting a kiss on your nose. "Only my silly Listener, forever and ever."

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

Part 2

"Name's Ghost"

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, those piercing blue ones burned into the back of my mind. The mask, the way he moved, the suffocating energy he exuded—it all haunted me in the most intoxicating way.

The next morning at work, I tried to shake it off, burying myself in emails and reports. But my concentration was nonexistent. My friend, ever perceptive, noticed as she dropped by my desk around mid-morning.

“You’re distracted,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against my cubicle.

“No, I’m not,” I lied, my cheeks flushing.

“Uh-huh,” she smirked. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain masked man in the ER last night, would it?”

“Shut it!” I hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else heard.

“What? It’s obvious. You were staring at him like he was a forbidden snack, and he looked at you like he wanted to devour you.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “He did not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He did. And it’s the most excitement I’ve seen you have in… well, years.”

Her words hit harder than I expected because they were true. My marriage had long since lost its spark, the daily routine of life eroding what little passion remained.

But this? One look from that man had ignited something inside me, something I thought I’d buried.

My friend's voice softened. “I’m just saying, maybe it’s time you let yourself feel something again. Even if it’s just a fantasy.”

I waved her off, trying to refocus on my work. But deep down, I couldn’t ignore the tiny seed of temptation her words had planted.

It wasn’t long before I saw him again.

A few days later, I was dropping off some paperwork in the ER when I spotted him. He was standing by the nurses’ station, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he spoke to one of the doctors.

My heart jumped into my throat.

I told myself to keep walking, to drop off the forms and leave, but my feet refused to listen. Before I knew it, I was lingering nearby, pretending to scan a bulletin board on the wall.

He must have sensed me, because he turned abruptly, his eyes locking onto mine.

It was just like before��electric, intense, like he was stripping me bare with nothing but a look.

This time, he moved.

I barely had time to react before he was standing in front of me, his sheer presence making me feel small despite my own curves. Up close, I could see the faint lines of a scar peeking out from under the edge of his mask, disappearing into his hairline.

“You work here?” he asked, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. “In administration. I was just… dropping off paperwork.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. “You were in here the other night.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I… yeah,” I stammered. “I was meeting a friend.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes dragging over me in a way that made my skin heat. Finally, he spoke again. “Name’s Ghost.”

“Ghost?”

He shrugged, as if daring me to ask for more.

I didn’t.

Instead, I offered my name, my voice trembling slightly. His eyes narrowed, like he was committing it to memory.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, though the way he said it felt anything but casual.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there like a complete idiot.

For the rest of the day, I was useless. My thoughts kept returning to him—his voice, the way he looked at me, the way he filled the entire room with his presence.

That night, as I sat on the couch next to my husband, pretending to watch TV, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ghost.

And for the first time in years, I felt alive.

Part 3

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 3 Vampire

A corpse supposed, in European folklore, to leave its grave at night to drink the blood of the living by biting their necks with long pointed canine teeth.

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @cherrysuzaku

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

Never go out at night. Especially near the old cemetery. 

You never understood why. Aa a child growing up you just assumed because the place was scary and full of ghosts so you were happily in agreement of staying far, far away from the old cemetery down the road. You'd  never go there, and stayed very far away which pleased your family. It wasn't until your sixteenth birthday that your grandfather pulled you aside one day under the guise of coming to help him carry vegetables to sell at the nearby town square however as soon as you two were alone, he pulled you both behind the barn and had  a very scary serious face.

"Y/n, listen to me. You're sixteen years old now. In two more years you're going to be all grown up and be able to make your own decisions and that's why I have to warn you before it's too late."

You blinked at him in shock. "Grandpa, what are you talking about about?" 

"I'm talking about vampires!" His tone was so blunt it made you blink.

"Vampires?" 

"Do you know why the old cemetery was abandoned and the new one was built right behind the village? Or why no one goes near the old one? Or why no one stays out at night?" You shook your head. You just assumed because it was creepy and haunted. He scoffed. "Of course not! No one's ever bothered to tell you the truth! Folks around here like to pretend nothing bad happens around here!"

"But...Vampires?" 

He nodded. That sounds.. unbelievable. There hasn't been any cases of people going missing or being found dead with their bodies drained of blood or with bite marks on their necks. And there hasn't even been any livestock killings other than the time your uncle caught a fox in his henhouse last year..But that was just a fox. 

"Let me tell you the entire truth. Back even before even my own parents were born, there was a clan that lived in the abandoned estate right next to that cemetery, it's so long no one even remembers their name, but long ago tragedy struck them. The entire clan turned on one another over a family dispute which left only two standing. A pair of brothers one of which left his clan after the incident while the other took over the entirety of the estate."

"That's very sad, but what does that have to do with anything with Vampires?"

"The brother who left died." His tone suddenly became very grim. "His body was found one day alongside the road as dead as roadkill. Instead of burning the cursed corpse, he was brought home to his brother so he may be buried in the family cemetery. However that mistake would prove to be fatal. The very next day after the funeral, the remaining brother was found dead in his bedroom! His entire body was drained of blood and a look of pure horror was etched onto his face."

Your eyes widened in shock at the words that left his mouth.

"It didn't stop there. A distant member of the clan's family went missing the next week, and then a week after that two other girls from the surrounding area also went missing. Not even their bodies were ever found."

"That's all very sad..but how do you know that it was vampires. Couldn't the girls have just ran away from home? Or the brother have a heart attack and died?" 

"Because when the local priest investigated the cemetery alongside the towns men, he ordered all the clan members graves to be dug up and the bodies examined." His gaze turned grave as a shudder physically shook his body as you gulped. "One by one each and EVERY member was dug up from the ground for the priest to examine and each one was the same with some form of destruction until they got to the final one. The brother who left the estate. "

Your skin got goosebumps and a shiver ran down your own spine at the way he was looking at you in fear. This story..Even if it was fake, sure was scary.

"When they pulled his cursed coffin from the ground and tore it open, his body was in perfect cold condition. As if he has just died within the last hour." His fearful expression became more scared. "But he wasn't the only one in that grave. Within the soft earth they found the three girls who had gone missing. Their bodies in as perfect condition as their devilish husband now. He had claimed them as his brides of the undead!" 

"W-Why didn't they just burn the bodies then?"

"Because they had already angered the spirits and committed a sacred crime by digging up all the bodies! No one wanted to risk angering the spirits on top of having a vampire! All the bodies were reburied with the exception of those cursed with vampirism. They were taken to be locked away in a mausoleum, and a steak was driven into the man's heart to return him to the dead! That place was abandoned since."

"If the vampire was killed, then why is there still worry?"

"Because someone removed his stake! A vampire is only dead as long as the stake remains in his heart! However it was discovered someone had broken into the crypt and removed it. The bodies were gone and since then it's always been the same. Don't go out at night. Stay away from the old cemetery. You're a young woman so you're going to be the most vulnerable. Heed my words, Child. Do not be fooled by them."

Since then you've been scared of going outside at night by yourself which your grandpa approved of until his eventually death a year later..but with you becoming older and older, you noticed that everything really wasn't as scary as your grandfather made it out to be. Your parents never before seemed to mind you going outside at night so long as you stayed away from the old cemetery they seemed perfectly happy. 

Plus LITERALLY NOTHING EVER HAPPENED!!

Nothing but the usual animals in the night. You never saw anything dangerous other than maybe a wild animal. Even IF there was a vampire running around, he must've been long gone by now or wasn't interested in the humans here. In fact he might not even exist at all! You came to the conclusion that he DEFINITELY didn't exist when you were out stargazing fell asleep and woke up perfectly okay on your balcony. If there was a vampire then he would've taken advantage of a woman fast asleep in the night. 

So you began to wonder what else might've been made up? Fairies? Ghosts? Imps? You've never seen anything like that even when you visited the cemetery and your grandparents' graves. No ghost, spirits, or spooks. So was the old cemetery they told you about really that bad either? Your curiosity only continued to grow and grow as you turned twenty and it was one day that you decided to go and check it out for yourself. 

Walking down the old path long since overgrown and completely covered in grass and flowers. You barely were able to find it from how much it blended into nature. You didn't know how far exactly you walked or how much time had passed by but eventually you came across something you were sort of expecting. The starts of a rock wall..the sight of it in the sunlight made you slow down to a stop. Staring wide eyed at the monument like it was something forbidden.

You should probably turn back now...but there's a reason why you came here during the day instead of night. Taking in a deep breath, you slowly approached. 

Old rocks crumbling away slowly from the elements and overgrown by vines. The wall was old and looked one step from crumbling away entirely as you approached it before slowly grabbing on some semi looking non rumbling parts and started pulling yourself up enough to look over the wall. The state of the inside was like a something out of a ghost story alright. Giant grass and wild flowers growing up and taking over the stone walkways that cracked badly with neglect, a few trees had grown in random places and a few stones looked like they were entangled in their roots.

Your footfalls were the only things that sounded around the place as you slowly walked around looking at everything. There was so many stones laid about everywhere. Misshapen by the elements over time and overgrown like everything else around the place. There was symbols that might've been named long ago but they were too worn away to really make out what they were when you curiously peered at a few. Continuing to walk around until you stumbled upon something. Something big.

A giant structure like building that was as big as a shed made of stone. 

It stuck out like a sore thumb in the middle of everything. A giant tree growing out of a giant crumbling crack in the top and side coating the entire structure in shade. Where a door might've been was now covered in vines like a nature prison cell. Was that the famous mausoleum from the story? Your form walked up and pushed the nearly roots apart enough to poke your head in. Only to cough and sneeze at the amount of dust accumulated inside. But there was nothing inside. Not even a body.

So that proved there was nothing here. Whelp. That debunks everything everyone else said. Wrestling with the roots until you were able to pull your head out  and relax back. Now that your curious itch was satisfied, you could leave and never look back. This place was creepy even in the daytime. You turned to leave, grass crunching under your feet as you took a few steps- 

"Who are you?" You immediately jumped with a gasp looking around wildly for whoever talked. "Up here."

You looked up and paused. Up on top of the mausoleum was a man. A very BEAUTIFUL man. Soft looking white flowed down his shoulders and broad muscles tensed up from where he kneeled on top of the ancient structure looking at you. His clothes fit him in such a way that reminded you of old ninja uniforms seen in some history books from school, but what struck you the most was the magenta eyes that seemed to be staring right through you. 

"Who are you?," he repeated making you jump.

"Oh! I uh-..I just wanted to look around and..stuff!"

"Uh huh." His eyes narrowed more looking you up and down before stopping on your side eyed face again. Seeming to calculate something in his mind.. before smiling. "Well you know what they say." He quickly switched from a kneeling position to a sitting one with his legs hanging over the side of the structure and scooted further into the shade, head in one hand. "Curiosity killed the cat."

Your brow rose at him. "And who are you?"

"Uzui. Tengen Uzui. You happen to be trespassing on my territory lady, so I can ask you the same thing."

"Territory?" You looked around again at the creepy damaged old graves. Who'd want this as their property "No offense but have you seen where you are?"

"Every day and night but Im curious now. Why are YOU?"

"Huh? Oh. I'm Y/n. Look. I didn't mean to bother you-" You held up your hands and took a step back. "-and I'm sorry but I should really get back before someone worries about me."

"Why would they worry about you? It's not like these dead people can hurt you."

"Well you're not going to believe me if I told you."

"Try me. You'd be surprised by what I've seen in my lifetime."

"Well they say this place is crawling with vampires."

Instead of laughing at you or looking at you like you were crazy, he hummed again and smiled wider. "Vampires. You don't say."

"Yep. That's why I was here. I came to see if anything was here but there's nothing. Just a fairytale like everything else I've been told."

"Not true. There's me and I happen to be rather flamboyant if I do say so myself!~" he purred gesturing to his muscles and making you snicker.

"Yeah. Right. Well I'd better be going. It was nice to meet you. Sorry for trespassing."

"Hey. Wait a minute." A loud thud sound went off as he pushed himself off and landed on his feet, and you gawked at how much taller he was than you were. Smiling still. "It's been a long time since anyone else visited me and it's pretty lonely up here." His hand gestured to the far left. "My wives and I have an estate just a little away from here. Why don't you come back to visit tomorrow?"

You blinked again. "An estate? I thought everything up here was abandoned.years ago."

"Right. I bet they say that it's haunted too."

"Is it?"

"No. But sometimes my best buddy comes by." He smiled at you in an almost joking way. "He's a Kitsune spirit. Even has a flashy shrine in the town over."

You couldn't help but giggle. "Ok. Sure. It'd be nice to visit someone knew. I'll come by next week since I'm not busy that day."

"GREAT! I'll have my wives fix you a feast! It's been years but my Suma can make a delicious shishkabob outta venison and veggies! I used to eat it all the time."

You didn't know what you've done that day. Waving goodbye as you climbed back over the wall. You didn't see him yawn before climbing back up the tree to rest again making sure to avoid the sunlight peeking in through the leaves. 

You did end up coming back next week without telling anyone. Past the cemetery and even further past it. You were surprised to find a small mansion in the middle of the woods right smack dab in a clearing. You guessed that someone must've moved in and fixed up the place. You ended up knocking on the door which slid open and you were met with pink eyes blinking in surprise. 

"Oh my...He wasn't kidding when he said you were coming" she sounded surprised but opened the door widely beckoning you inside. "Please come in! We've been expecting you."

"Thanks! Are you Suma?"

"No. I'm Hinatsuru but it's so good to see someone new! We don't have much visitors."

Hinatsuru. And the other two wives Makio and Suma. They were all so different from each other and Mr. Uzui was there too happily smiling and talking to you. With the food they promised you. It was so good! But they didn't eat anything. 

"We ate before you came to visit us, so don't worry about it."

That didn't bother you. Nor did it bother you when Tengen offered to walk you home  once it got too dark. Your parents weren't worried since they didn't worry about you going out (they had no idea that you went near the graveyard) and were surprised seeing the stunningly beautiful man standing in the doorway.

"Charmed I'm sure!" He posed making your mother even blush. "Tengen Uzui.~ I know we just met but I think I want to start courting your daughter. With your permission of course ~"

That's how the entire thing began. Almost as if your parents were hypnotized by him. They agreed much to your shock and you were suddenly counted by not only the beautiful man but his three beautiful wives. It certainly does seem like something out of a fairytale having so many beautiful people fond over you. 

Especially when he kissed you for the first time. A blush coating his face as you held his cheeks. Surprisingly cold lips kissed yours. And then your cheeks. And then chin. And then stopping at your neck. Eyes going slit feeling the rush of pulsing blood under sharpened teeth. 

"So beautiful. You're so beautiful. So flamboyant. So M I N E.~"

"T-Tengen? W-What are you doing?" His hug suddenly got tighter.

"It's alright, Princess. It'll only hurt for a second." You were suddenly aware of the adoring smiles on the wives faces as fangs poked out from between lips. "After all, a vampire's kiss is eternal.~"

[zenkindoflove]

Elucien Masterlist

Multichapter Fics

Shackled (E) - Elain x Lucien

WIP, 4/10 chapters, ~17,000 words Summary: "One thing was clear to her about this predicament: Lucien was furious." An enchanted pair of handcuffs. A prank gone wrong. A bottle of whiskey. This was turning out to be the most awkward Winter Solstice for Elain and Lucien yet. A gift for ALDBooks for the ACOTAR Gift Exchange 2024.

Carrion Flowers (M) - Elain x Lucien

Complete, 6/6 chapters, ~37,000 words Summary: AU - Detective Lucien Vanserra has been sent to Sunset Hollow to solve a grisly murder. Cunning and skeptical, he is determined not to allow superstition and hearsay amuse him from the truth. However, the town is whispering of witches, and one suspected witch by the name of Elain Archeron haunts his dreams and his heart .

Summer Heat (E)- Elain x Lucien, Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

Complete, 18/18 chapters, 114,890 words Summary: Summer Court is hosting the Summer Solstice Summit and the Night Court is sending their best emissaries to attend. It will be Elain's first time mingling in another court, and it's a good thing she has an expert guiding her: the mate she's been ignoring for the last two years. Meanwhile, Eris has been sent to the summit to spy on Summer's developments. What he doesn't anticipate is entangling in a steamy, forbidden romance

Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (M) - Elain x Lucien, collab with @crazy-ache

Complete, 13/13 chapters, ~28,000 words Summary: Epistolary (adj., of a literary work) in the form of letters. After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes. This fic is a collection of those letters.

Burn Forever With Me (E) - Elain x Lucien

Complete, 13/13 chapters, ~69,000 words Summary: End of ACOSF. After Feyre's traumatic birth, Elain writes to Lucien seeking comfort and company. She soon realizes that opening up to him in letters is much easier without her family's constant presence. But how long can she keep falling for Lucien a secret?

Sarcasm and Sunshine (E) - Elain x Lucien

WIP, 7/? chapters, 5,000 words Summary: This is a collection of drabbles and short fics for Elain x Lucien (Elucien) mostly from prompts submitted via Tumblr. Each chapter is a stand alone story but some may have continuations in the future.

Short Fics

Kneel Before Me (E) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~11,000 words Summary: Lucien arrives at the House of Wind, only to be drawn into a sparring match with none other than the Inner Circle's own Shadowsinger. Things get out of hand and Azriel discovers whether he really can defeat Lucien easily.

I Think I Saw You in My Sleep (E) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~10,000 words Summary: The dreams of him come from the mating bond, but Elain wants them to stay.

Our Hearts Still Beat the Same (E) - Elain x Lucien

Two-shot, ~17,000 words Summary: "She stood on the bridge for a few minutes, hoping that the rain might wash away the seething anger and bottomless anguish that crackled under her skin. More, more, more, repeated again and again to a steady beat. His heart beat." Part One is Cozy Tension. Part Two is all smut.

Embrace (M) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~2,800 words Summary: Elain is on a journey of embracing her Faeness. When studying Lucien's pierced ears, an idea forms in her head that she can't shake.

Perennial (T) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, 6,700 words Summary: For Elucien Week 2024 Day 1: Fated. Fate has always been intertwined with Elain and Lucien's bond. An exploration of how soulmates find each other through every iteration of their existences.

... And Again Into the Light (M) - Elain x Lucien, collab with @crazy-ache

One-shot, 10,000 words Summary: For Elucien Week 2024 Day 6: Fearless. Elain has a vision that takes her and Lucien to the continent. In desperate need of rest, they rent a room for a night in an eerie inn that has an unnatural presence. Horror/Romance.

Dancing Barefoot (E) - Elain x Lucien, minor Jassa

One-shot, 10,000 words Summary: For Elucien Week 2024 Day 7: AU. “She is re-creation. She, intoxicated by thee”– Patti Smith. Historical AU 1970s – Elain is frustrated and aimless in her senior year of college. She doesn’t know what path to take with the way the world is changing. Then she meets Lucien, a punk rocker who also is becoming more disenfranchised with the scene. She’s drawn to his beauty and the danger in his eyes, and maybe just one night might be all she needs. Elucien, minor Jassa.

Fanarts, Commissions, & Other

Elucien 1980s clinch cover commissioned fanart by @dangerouslovesong *banner art

Dancing Barefoot Moodboard

NSFW fanart for Burn Forever With Me Ch 13 by @works-of-heart

Dear Lucien, Dear Elain fanart by @jadedbugart

Sarcasm & Sunshine drabble fanart by @jadedbugart

Elucien Week 2024 Masterlist

Grander - a poem for Elain Day

Carrion Flowers fanart by @jadedbugart

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

[fanonical]

Jamie's Mildly Pretentious Uquiz Adventures - A Masterpost

what is haunting you? you have been asked to rid a place of the thing that has been haunting it. tell me how you prepare, and i will tell you what you find.

which faerie will guide you? You have been invited to a gathering of the Fae, to meet the being who will become your mentor. It is an invitation you have both dreaded and anticipated. Make choices along the path, and I will tell you who waits at the end.

what thing is hunting you? there is something following you. it is time to run. gather what you can, take what roads call to you. there is something following you, and it will not stop until it catches you.

prepare a spell and i will tell you what sort of witch you are lightning strikes outside your door - the witching hour is close at hand. power swirls inside your form, magic strong at your command. enchantments thicken in the air, spells of word and clay and steel. but what is the charm that you shall cast; to help or harm, to hex or heal?

survive a journey through the post-apocalypse and i will tell you who you are long ago, the world came to an end. but you are still here, surviving amid the ruins. and you have a job to do. the road is long and harsh. there is little comfort here. but you will see it through to the bitter end, and discover your role in this strange new world.

try and save the world from the end and i will tell you what kind of hero you are the signs of the end time are nigh. the people flee, frantic, from the destruction that is to come. but there is a hero, one who will emerge in the last gasps of a dying world, to journey beneath the earth and bring forth an artifact that might, the sages say, avert the end times. and that hero is you.

Prepare to meet a vampire, and I will tell you what you find October has dawned crisp and cold. 'Tis the season of the macabre, of the blood-tinged, and you have been waiting for it a long time. This year, you are going to surpass every past Halloween. This year, you are going to find a vampire…and ensure they turn you into one of their kindred.

Travel out to sea and I will tell you your role on a pirate ship The bright sun beats down on the glistening azure waves. All around you, the docks are alive with sound - seamen and stevedores shouting, timber and rope creaking and groaning, the distant screech of a fiddle. You are a pirate, heading to your ship for a day's work. But what kind of pirate are you?

Which god chooses you? The Hall of the Gods has many idols. As an acolyte, you have become familiar with each of their faces. Now, you prepare for your initiation. One of them will accept you as their successor. Perform the rites, survive the trials, call the Divine, and see who answers.

death is coming for you. how will you escape? the end comes for all of us. some accept it, lay down and fade away. some are eager to find out what lies beyond. and some will kick and scream with every last breath. you just have days remaining, but you have a plan. you're going to cheat death. one way or another. you're going to win.

Create a monster, and I will show you your reflection Night has fallen. Lightning crackles in the sky above. It is time for you to create an abomination. But what manner of horror will spring from your hands?

[siderealscribblings]

Have some NeuviFuri Meet-Cute GoD style

0 Years, 0 Months, 1 Day

Neuvillette woke and knew only two things; his name, and that there was something wrong with him. 

His eyes opened to see long tendrils of silver hair floating in the water around him and faint white light streaming down from the surface high above him. This wasn't unusual; he had no memory of the cold inky cradle he woke up in but it felt…right. Even as the hand that reached towards the surface was too pale. Blue and white scales covered the back of his hand and stretched down his arm, but there should have been more. He knew that much, even if the rest of his memories were blurry at best. 

You are incomplete… 

A thought flickered through his mind in a voice not his own. The voice rippled through the water as he sat up, deliriously looking around for the source. 

Something has been taken from you, Hydro Sovereign…

Hydro Sovereign…that's who he was. He knew that as much as he knew that he was weaker than he should be. The long, slender limbs that reached into the water were too smooth, the scales on the skin too patchy. He was wrong, somehow, in a way he couldn't put into words. It was a fact that beat with every twitch of his heart and reminded him of something he had lost. 

Your authority can be returned to you…if you listen to me.

The light above him took the form of a slender woman dressed in a flowing gown of white and blue that billowed in the water as she descended. He recognized her, but not because of how she looked; something about her felt like himself. Like she somehow had the part he lacked. 

Aid the woman who looks like me. She has a task she needs your help with. 

Neuvillette opened his mouth, hoping to say something before the ethereal woman disappeared, but as soon as he found his voice she vanished in a cloud of bubbles, leaving Neuvillette deliriously looking around the bottom of the pool, unsure of what to do next. 

His stomach offered a suggestion in the form of a growl; he could puzzle about the nature of the bizarre young woman after he had eaten. Something told him it had been a very long time since he had done that. 

0 Years, 0 Months, 10 Days

Go; I will be with you. 

So spoke her reflection, and despite the tremor that haunted every step, Furina pushed into the wilderness on the slopes of Mount Automnequi with only a skinny cane-sword for protection. An unusually dense mist hung around the mountain; passing hooded through a small fishing village, she heard the locals say that they had never seen such a dense mist. It was so thick that Furina could barely see the trees ten paces in front of her. And yet, she pressed on, taking one turn that felt right to her after another. 

The quiet suited her. Since her shaky attempt at coronation, she had been surrounded by so many people, all eager to make the acquaintance of the new Archon, that Furina barely had a moment's peace to collect herself. Any doubts she had about accepting the help her reflection offered melted away as persistent dread made sleeping almost impossible. She was terribly, painfully alone in a teeming mob, some of whom already didn't like her. 

If this harebrained scheme had a hailstone's chance in hell of succeeding, she was going to need all the help she could get. 

By noon the fog showed no sign of relenting, but Furina was getting close to calling it quits as her stylish boots proved warm but ill suited to walking up mountains. Thankfully a cool pool of water emerged from the mist and Furina hobbled over to the edge of the water. Sitting on a mossy rock on the edge of the water, she kicked her boots off with a sigh that was swallowed by heavy fog. The dried fruit she packed would last for another small meal, after which point she would need to go home again and try some other day. The trouble was, she didn't know how many more times she could sneak out of the Palais without drawing unwanted attention. 

And she didn't want to have the "My Reflection Told Me to Go to the Wilderness to Find a Stranger to Help Me" conversation at this point. That was a fast route to being hailed as Furina the Mad by her subjects. 

"Hello?" Furina called into the mountain wilderness, met with only silence in return. Were she a mountaineer, she would have been unnerved by the total absence of animal sounds, insect noises, or bird calls as a sure sign of a nearby predator. 

"Is anyone there?" Furina asked, leaning down to refill her water skin in the cool mountain pond. Her reflection stared back at her, but offered no answers; whoever had spoken to her was now gone despite her promise to be with Furina. 

"Okay…I'm here," Furina said to her murky reflection in the water. "Here and out of clues, so any help would be very much appreciated." 

Her own wavering reflection stared back at her, silent as it had been for days since her coronation. A flicker of movement deep in the pool caught her attention as somewhere down in the darkness of the water, a large shape moved about. Vishaps weren't uncommon in the wilds of Fontaine and just as she was about to move, two bright blue eyes flickered in the darkness, turning up to look at her from the bottom of the pool. 

Okay, well I tried, time to go now! Furina thought, scrambling back from the edge of the pool as the shape lunged up out of the depths. She managed to get her sword cane out of its sheathe as a large, pale figure emerged from the depths of the pond, looking for all the world like a shirtless man clad in only a waistcloth that clung to his thighs as he pushed himself up on the rock Furina had been sitting on only moments earlier. Long, stringy wet hair was plastered to his neck and shoulders and in his mouth a fat wriggling trout was breathing its last as his jaws snapped its head off with one crunch of bones and skin. 

Despite the relatively human appearance, Furina couldn't be sure she wasn't looking at a monster, but he made no motion to attack, simply chewing his fish-head thoughtfully for a moment. 

"You," the creature's voice spoke, a low thrumming sound that seemed to ripple the fog that hung over the water. "...what took you so long?" 

[dazed--xx]

Let Me In

Member: Kim Taehyung x afab reader

Word count: 1.5k

T/W: Horror, obsession, haunting?, mentions of death, gore, cliffhanger, dead corpse x living reader, NONCON kiss, bodily harm, stalking, madness, lack of control over one's own body, begging, threats, the haunting hour, harassment, etc

A/N: this was supposed to be Day one of Spooktober...Im was so like excited for this and I hope you guys enjoy it I figured since I won't be writing anything new I wanted to post something already done before I got into my slump hope this made some of yalls day seeing an update sorry it's not SKZ OR SVT but I was gonna do all 3 groups for spooktober and Tae just so happened to be the first name on the wheel of names

*Ping*

Y/n jumped out of her skin at the sound. Her hand trembling as she reached for her phone that sat on the ground next to her. Her breathing is heavy as she flips the device over. The name she had been dreading sits there smiling menacingly back at her. Ignoring his text she quickly swipes the notification away without reading it. Her head falls forward as her hands cup over her ears. No...It's not possible...she told herself.

*Ping*

*Ping*

*Ping*

Her phone continued to come alive with his texts. Her legs lift so her knees sit against her chest, pressing her back into the corner of the room. Her studio apartment was sunken in utter darkness as the air grew heavier and heavier. More notifications continue to somehow ping on her muted phone. "S-Stop..." She pleaded as she squeezed her eyes shut tight.

How could this be happening? Her body began to rock as she felt tears stream down her cheeks. The flurry of text messages continues their assault on her phone. Every ping caused another crack in her sanity. "He's dead...." she begins to repeat to herself as she continues to hold onto her ears to avoid every impossible text coming through her phone. "Kim Taehyung is dead...."

*Ping*

"Leave me alone!" She wails as she picks up the device and sends it careening across her dainty studio apartment. The phone slams harshly against the adjacent wall before tumbling to the ground onto its screen. She sat in silence for what felt like hours, her shaky breath the only thing she could hear as she leaned back against the wall. Her head fell back as she felt a chuckle form in the back of her throat it grew to a full laugh. This isn't possible...Kim Taehyung died last year, and the police told her this fact themselves. It had to be her lack of sleep ruining all logic in her brain. It had been a month since she had last slept properly.....she couldn't tell what was real anymore.

The sound of an unfamiliar ringtone pulls her out of her thoughts, and her eyes widen as her head snaps up. Her eyes were wide as she felt her body growing lighter and lighter. Her heart sank as she felt herself get onto all fours and slowly crawl toward the device. Her body almost felt as if it wasn't her own as she found the device now in her hand. Her body trembled as she felt her tears cascading down her cheeks. Her screen stared back at her with a spiderweb crack along the top left corner of her phone extending down toward the center of her phone. It was utterly destroyed yet, that name continued to call. The screen looked perfectly fine....

The green answer button called out to her, as her curiosity was peaked. She felt herself grow more and more drawn toward the answer button, in a trance she answered the call. As she went to speak, she found nothing coming out of her mouth. Her body sat frozen her mouth hung open in fear. A deep menacing chuckle responds on the other end of the line. "I missed you, Y/N..." A voice that sounded like Taehyung teased on the other end of the call, but there was something...off about his voice, it was as if he was gurgling.

Y/N's blood ran cold as she urged her body to hang up the call but her hands wouldn't budge. No...Please...stop...She pleaded as she stared across the room at the digital clock, 3:18 am. Taehyung's voice began to laugh mischievously. "You've never begged me before...." He teases. "I want to know what it's like to hear you scream....you'll do that for me right, Y/N?"

Go away....She urged as she fought against herself. Go away... it's not real, wake up! Wake Up! Her heart raced as she struggled to continue to hold herself up. "Shhh, get out of your head....I'll be there soon, you'll feel better, I promise" He soothed. Y/N felt her breath get trapped in her throat as she felt a wave of nausea takes over. The smell of decaying meat begins to waft through the air. Closing her eyes Y/N begins to recite the lord's prayer to herself. Our Father, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come "Ha Ha Ha, That won't work..." Taehyung antagonizes, and Y/N feels her mouth salivating as the stench grows stronger and stronger. A loud bang on her window, makes her body jump.

Slowly turning her head to face the window on her right. A decaying hand sits on her window, and she feels the contents of her stomach rise to her mouth. As the body of the hand begins to come into view, she vomits violently. "No..." she whimpers, as she's met with something, that looks like Kim Taehyung. His eye holes were sunken in, almost like two darkened abysses and his skin looked paler than he normally did. Across his throat sat a large gash, that went through the center of his neck. Her blood ran cold as he smiled at her menacingly. This isn't real....She thinks to herself.

"Let me in....." He calls in that gurgled menacing voice.

Y/N stood frozen as she stared at him in horror, This can't be real... she shakes her head and the smile on his lips falls. "Open up...." He states in a threatening tone. As he leaned into the window with that sinister smile on his lips, his tongue drags across his bottom lip and his face seemed to gain more and more vitality. She struggled against herself as she felt the need to open the window growing stronger and stronger. "No..G-Go away..." Y/N stammers fearfully. Taehyung's smile falls and the decayed face returns as he pulls his head back slightly, placing both hands on the window before slamming his head into the window harshly. Only then did Y/N realize how large the gash in his throat truly was as muscle and bone became exposed the second time he pulled his head back.

Her head grows heavier and heavier as he continues to slam his head into the window. A chill settles in the room as she feels herself growing dizzy. Her legs struggle as she tries to make her way toward the door as she hears the sound of cracking glass. The smell of rotting meat filled her nostrils as if she were in a butcher's discard pile. She felt her legs give out beneath her as her vision grew blurry. No.. she willed as she tried to crawl toward the door. You have to get out of here...

The sound of breaking glass makes her stomach drop as she sees the door growing closer and closer, reaching for her handle she feels a rough yet squishy hand encase her ankle dragging her back. A screech is released from her throat as she hears a deep chuckle erupt from the pit of his stomach. Taehyung flips her over onto her back as he leans over her, the gash in his throat dripping a brown congealed clot onto her cheek. The rotten meat smell now penetrates her pores, and almost tasting the stench she holds her breath. Taehyung frowns at her actions as he straddles her waist, his decayed hand grips her chin as he leans into her face. His face changed once again and she was greeted by a more lively visage of him. "L-Let me go....p-please" She pleads weakly.

"You know I can't do that.....It's been so long," He states with that gurgled voice. "I finally have you...why would I give you back?" He chuckles as he lifts his hand and a drawer opens from her kitchen, a butcher's knife flies from the drawer and into his hand. Her eyes widen as tears stream down her cheeks. "N-No please, T-Taehyung please...." She pleads to deaf ears and Taehyung lifts the knife to her cheek running the blade along her face sensually "I missed you, Y/N. I won't let you go again...Did you miss me too? You did right?" He questions in a trance, his eyes are crazed as he stares down at her. "You probably felt lonely without me...were you mad I didn't know how to find you? I'm sorry my love...I left you alone because I couldn't find you...I know you wanted me to find you, to prove my love by finding you if you hid well enough..." He states madly as he brings the knife to her throat, Y/N struggles to catch her breath as she tries to shove him off of her. "Don't worry, it won't hurt too badly if I do it this way.." He places the tip of the knife to her throat. He leans in pressing his lips to hers, she feels bile rise into her mouth as a sour putrid taste fills her mouth. She coughs as he pulls away with a smirk.

"I won't let you be alone again. You'll like it where we're going"

[coffehbeans]

Gt WAC Day 23

"A story with a nonhuman/ monstrous character"

THIS, this was a challenge to write ahsushus I'm so nervous cause it took me SO long and as per usual I'm still unsure about it.

This story is based on a dream I had a month ago, I was writing it since then so i could post it on day 23 of gtwac. So yep, new character. It's different from what I've wrote so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

Depending on the reception of this story I will continue it, but fair warning that it'll not be a happy one (IF I continue it).

I'm not sure if I'll rate this chapter in particular as above PG-13, but general warning for overall spooky, unsettling vibes.

Enjoy!

........................................................................................

Edward Becker has not seen his wife in seven years.

People called him crazy for waiting for her return. "She's done for", someone mentioned. "Why don't you find another one?", someone suggested, all falling in deaf ears as every single day, he'd go back from work, sit by the porch, and wait for her until the sun went down. A useless effort, as they said, a delusional hope, or the sign of going mad. But for Edward, it was his strength. The only support for his failed attempts at finding her. His last pillar of sanity that made him get up every morning and wait for her until nightfall. His wife would come back, like she always did. She would come back to his open arms, embrace him gently like she used to, cover him with kisses as he pulled her close. They would giggle and enter their home, enjoy a nice meal they cooked together, talking about their day during dinner, about plans for rebuilding their house, plans for a new job he wanted to get, plans about their future children. When night falls, they would sleep holding each other tight, relishing in their shared warmth.

All he had to do was wait for her by the porch.

...

One day, she did comeback.

It was past midnight. So dark and cold outside, most animals have gone to sleep, making the woods around his remote home dead silent. The cows and chickens of his small farm uttered no sound as they slept, and the wind billowed the wheat fields outside, his plain wooden house colored pitch black by the late-night sky. It was a weathered home, well kept indoors but in need of repairs, with ripped, dingy furniture and leaks on the roof. It was protected by a measly three-feet-tall fence that threatened to fall apart, and over the backyard, where the overgrown grass was blown by the wind, laid a simple wooden shed meant for storing farming equipment. Tossing and turning on his bed, Edward sat up with a jolt, sweat dripping on his face as anxiety threatened to eat him whole. He sighed, holding his face in his trembling hands, and letting out a shaky breath. He couldn't fall asleep in those nights, where the memory of Cordelia haunted his mind in his dreams, ones where she wore desperate expressions as she's dragged away from him by detached, withered hands, and no matter how much he ran, he didn't reach her. Nightmares where he found her dead body, pale and laying limp, lifeless eyes staring at him. Nightmares where he found her hurt, bleeding and beaten up, face covered by bruises ­– in most nights, those visions would plague him.

With a shiver, Edward got up, lighting up the oil lantern. He trudged for the kitchen, on his way to do the same as usual: put some water over the wood burning stove, boil it, try this new tea his friend had brought for him, and drink it aimlessly, hoping in vain for sleep to come back.

He sluggishly put wood pieces inside the firebox, reaching a hand for the lighter on the table. A flicker, two, and the fire was lit. He put the kettle over the stove with a clank, and stared at it blankly, waiting for bubbles to form. The house was pitch black, only the flickering flames of the stove and the lamp’s dim glow illuminated the room.

A loud sizzling of the kettle snapped Edward out of his torpor as the water boiled. He picked the hot handle, feeling its heat burning his skin, lifted it from the fire and — THUMP. A loud thud by the window behind him sent him jumping, fumbling with the kettle in his hands, heartbeat skyrocketing. He banged it on the table. Hot droplets prickled his hand. He turned around with rapid breaths. A blurred shadow dashed away from the window, sending a cold chill down his spine, the wind howling and heavy thuds echoing outside the house’s walls. Rhythmical and constant. Pounding on the ground. Edward sucked in a breath, head ringing against his skull. He stomped towards the cabinet containing his shotgun. There were thieves? In the middle of the night? Were they finally coming to steal a poor and mad man's house? He wouldn't allow it.

He can’t die yet. Not until Cordelia comes back to him.

Loading the gun with precise clicks, Edward aimed it at the window, darting his aim from window to window until he reached the door, the last place he heard the strange sound. With trembling hands over the trigger, his eyes focused on an invisible target. He held his breath, standing still. Not a single sound. Ears trained on any disturbance. THUMP. THUMP. A shadow passed by the window to his right. BANG!

He twisted his body and shot, missing the shadow by an inch.

"W-who's there!?" He shouted in a trepid tone.

No answer. Not even a sound. Maybe the sound of breathing. He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell if it was someone's breathing or his own.

The “sshhhs” and “thuds” echoed around him, heading towards the backyard. Edward adjusted the position of the gun in his arms.

He took a deep breath.

Edward ran to the back door and slammed it open with a kick, pointing the trembling shotgun towards the field. The sky was pitch-black outside, engulfing the horizon with its inky tint, and the stars didn't dare approach the darkness. The faint moonlight was partially obscured by the clouds, its glow too weak to lighten the outdoors. He huffed, feeling the weight of his gun, and headed further into the backyard with measured steps. His shoes crunched the grass below, the dry air amplifying the sound of his stride. Deadly silence filled the field. A puff of smoke left his nostrils as warm exhale met with the frigid air. Tightening the grip around the gun, he aimed it at the decrepit shed. Waiting for movement. Eyes trained forward. The dark blur of a large silhouette shifted behind it.

BANG.

He shot. Once. Twice. The sound of the bullets making his ears ring, metal creating holes in the aged wood. A loud, high-pitched, and definitely human scream cried behind it.

He stopped shooting, heart leaping to his throat. A weight plunked in his insides, making him loose the tight grip on his gun. Behind the shed, he heard it. A gasp. A whimper. A sob. Clearly feminine. Edward lowered the gun, furrowing his brows as the cries made a lump form inside his throat. A trick to let his guard down? A trap? It must be a trick for sure. No way an innocent person would show up in the middle of the night. No, there's no way. Goosebumps trailed down his back as the cries reached his ears. Why was there even someonehere?

The sobbing got louder, echoing in the cold, dark night. He shivered when the shrill voice reverberated in his ears, an uncomfortable knot twisting in his stomach at the thought he could have shot an innocent woman.

"Who... Who's there?" He repeated, cautious this time, as if talking to a cowering animal.

The sobs dwindled little by little. He didn't dare move. The figure was hidden behind the shed, not even the faint moonlight giving a glimpse of its appearance.

Finally, he heard it: that feminine voice. Frail, faint, and so utterly scared.

Its familiarity so potent, something clogged in his throat.

"... Ed..."

That voice. The voice he waited for so many years by the porch. The voice he dreamed of in his sleep. Screaming. Crying for help. Calling for his name.

"... Edward..."

The same voice that recited sweet words of so much care, so much love and adoration to him every day. The voice that followed a gentle embrace, the smell of perfume and a prolonged kiss. The same voice that said "I do" by the altar over 12 years ago, that whispered close to his ear, giggling with joy. The voice that chatted to him relentlessly, which he couldn't get enough of. The voice that laughed, cried, shouted, only to say sweet words of gentle love again. That melodic yet striking voice. Edward didn't notice the tears falling from his face. Didn't notice the gun falling to the ground. Didn't notice his feet moving on his own, towards the shed, towards the faint possibility that she was behind it. He stumbled faster towards it, raising a trembling hand. "C-Cordelia?!" "NO! DON'T COME CLOSER!" The powerful shout made him stop dead on his tracks, ears complaining from its sheer force. He never heard his wife sound so... Desperate. In panic. "... H-honey...?" "Pl-please... D-don't come closer yet." She said, her voice returning to its normal pitch, but shaking with trepidation.

  "W-what's wrong...? Did I –"

Then he remembered it. The gun. The shootings. The fact he almost killed his own wife. His heart sank, face turning pale, his voice hoarse.

"Oh God. It's - it's really you, it was you and I almost, I-I a-almost... A-are you hurt? Are you bleeding? I –"

Edward took more shaking steps towards it, the nightmare of his dead wife still clear in his mind.

"NO!" - He stopped again. - "I-I'm fine! I'm not hurt, you d-didn’t hit me."

Edward covered his face with a hand and stopped himself from wanting to vomit.

"Cordelia I'm- ... I-I'm so, so sorry I thought it was a thief, I..."

He lowered his head, and took a shaky breath.

"Am I going crazy? Is – is it r-really you?! I, I waited for s-so long – I thought you were dead —!"

Tears poured desperately from Edward's eyes, his attempts to stop his sobs coming in vain. He hiccupped under his cries, breathing rapidly as reality came crashing down and years of restrained emotion leaked out. The voice sounded just like her. The voice could really be her.

‘Then, if it’s her, why is she hiding?’

"Please, d-dear, if it's really you..." - he whispered, his voice croaky and dry. Tears continued to fall.

"Please let me see you..." The shed grew eerily silent. Cold air made him quiver. A silent second spread throughout the night, the sounds of his sobs echoing through the pitch-black darkness. "I... I can't."

She whispered back in a shaky voice. Unsure. Afraid. Edward raised his head, glancing to the fallen gun on the grass, a realization hitting deep inside his stomach. "Are you scared of me...?" A pause. He heard her sucking in a breath. A long, deep exhale was carried by the wind. Her voice faint and trembling. "N-no... Dear, I... I'm not scared of you." The shed's wood creaked, like something was gripping it and scratching it down. "...I'm scared of myself." Edward's guilty expression changed to confusion. He furrowed his brows. A part of him wanted to giggle. His adorable wife, scared of herself? Why? She always had some impatience and anger she was discontent about, but even so... That made no sense. The way she acted, hiding from him, made no sense. Another part of Edward felt an odd sense of dread. As if something was not right. "Honey, why are you hiding from me? I... I waited for so long... I-I searched everywhere for you, and when I couldn't find anything, I waited. And when I couldn't wait anymore, I prayed. I hoped. I-I never paid attention to what the others said, even if they called me crazy." He took a step towards the shed. She sucked in a breath. Edward didn't notice more tears started to pour from his face. "And it's you, r-right? It's you who's behind here, right? Alive and well? Please dear... Don't let me think I've gone crazy!" He took another step closer. Then another. She whimpered behind the decrepit barn. Edward's vision was blurry from his own tears, but he didn't care anymore. He just needed to see her, even if it wasn't true. Even if he died.

Gosh, he just wanted to see her.

"Honey, DON'T!" The sheer loudness of her rigid voice made him stop dead on his tracks again. He opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Cordelia interrupted him.

"It's n-not... It's not that I'm not alive and well, Edward..." "So why are y-"

"...I-it's that I don't know what I am anymore..." He paused. That uneasy sense of dread sank heavier inside him. "What...? Cordelia, what do you mean-" "If I," – She interrupted, taking a deep breath. – "If I really come out of this shed, Will you promise, promise me that you will not run?" A shiver ran down his spine. Heartbeat rocked harder against his chest. Something's not right. Something's clearly not right. But Edward planted his feet firmly on the ground. It was his wife's voice. He lost her seven years ago. He doesn't know what happened to her in that time. She could be different from how she looked back then, hurt and bruised from whatever abuse they inflicted on her. Rage bubbled up inside him. Whoever did anything to her, he would kill them in cold blood. They would pay for taking her away from him. Being hurt and disfigured by her captors… That was probably what Cordelia meant.

There was no need for him to feel so nervous.

"You know I love you, dear... No matter what. You know I'd never run away from you... So why would you even ask that?"

"Please, Edward." She said louder than he expected. Desperate. Too desperate. "Please promise you won't run." The moonlight cast over the shed, the little gaps between the wooden plates showing a faint shadow behind it. A hulking mass, piled up like a bundle of hay, a head peeking out of the lump as if there was no body attached to it. Edward's eyes widened, heart drumming faster in his chest. Cold sweat scurried down his forehead. 'What is that?' And yet, he couldn't deny the pleading voice of his wife, sounding exactly as she did seven years ago. It couldn't possibly not be her. Something grave must have happened when she was gone, and that's why she was so afraid. Yes, that's most likely it.

So Edward gulped his nervousness down, and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Honey... I promise I won't run away from you... I would never run away from you."

A light, quiet wail whispered in the cold night, slowly dwindling down. A sniff sounded behind the shed. A long inhale and exhale belonging to powerful lungs.

Silence.

"... Alright."

And the heavy sound of something dragging over the earth.

A form encased in shadow peeked from the wooden walls over fourteen feet above him. Edward took a while to notice the large silhouette was a head. His wife's head. It was truly, truly her! Looking just like he remembered and – pale. So sickeningly pale. A dark and somber expression covered her face. Her eyes were baggy and downcast, white lips trembling. But more importantly, he couldn't understand why she has so high up.

"P-please..." - she uttered, almost to herself. - Please don't run..." Gargantuan claws appeared next to her, black, sharp nails curling over the creaking wood. A long, bony hand covered by charcoal scales. His wife pressed her eyes firmly shut. Edward took a step back, his mouth going dry. The sinking feeling in his stomach cut deeper. And then he saw why she was so high up.

The rest of her appeared under the pale moonlight, her form triple of a human size. A gigantic torso loomed over him like a small tree, covering him in her shadow. She wore nothing on her, long, mahogany hair covering her chest.

Then he looked down.

Black and yellow scales jutted out of her skin, covering her lower half, legs attached together in a single, cylindrical body that twitched and writhed as it came closer. The thick tail uncoiled behind the shed, extending further and further to Edward's right, so much so it could envelop around him if it moved. With loud thumps, Cordelia's massive form fell on the ground, hair obscuring her downcast face. Black talons gripped the soil as she pushed herself forward. Rough and coarse scales scraping against the earth as the hulking, round tail crunched the grass and lugged over it like a corpse dragging on the dirt. Rocks broke with a sickening "crunch" under its weight.

Edward's face contorted in shock. He took one, two steps back, eyes widening in horror, shaken to the core as his heart jumped in his throat. Pounding harder against his ribcage.

It was a gargantuan something, half snake, half something that resembled human. Resembled his wife. He mumbled incomprehensibly. Primal fear took over him. A crying, shaky voice resounded from the creature's mouth. A clawed hand the size of his head reaching out to him. "P-please... Edward..." He ran. He screamed bloody murder and dashed back towards his house, hearing it holler back his name. Tears fell from his eyes, desperation taking hold of his body. A deafening sound of thumps and scratches came from behind him, growing closer, coming for him.

"WAIT–!" Tha thing can’t be his wife. Whatever it was it could not be his wife. It shouldn't be his wife. It shouldn't be human. He ran through the house's corridors, left became right and up became down and the crunches behind him grew louder and louder and he had to hide, he had to hide but there was nothing in his room aside from the cold, old bed so he bolted, ran and ducked under it, mumbling shaky prayers, begging to heavens for his life. Begging that he was hallucinating. To not die to someone who looked so much like her.

That couldn't be real. He heaved. It can't be real, can't be real can't be real it can’t – He's gone crazy. Yes, that must be it. He's finally gone mad and that’s why.

But the cracks of the floorboards under the creature's weight sounded far too real for him to doubt. The scratching of the claws over the ground as it dragged its gargantuan body caused a fear too intense for him to doubt. The cracking of the walls as it squeezed itself inside felt too real for him to doubt. Edward clamped his mouth shut with a shaking hand, curling up under the bed and closing his eyes tight. If he remained immovable, if he remained silent, maybe it wouldn't find him. Maybe he wouldn't die. He gulped down a whimper that threatened to escape from his throat. Cordelia's voice resonated from the creature's mouth again. Weak, raspy, and grieving. It was a strategy to lure him out. Yes. That was probably it. It couldn't possibly be something else. Because that huge monster with crude scales couldn't be his wife, with soft skin and flowing hair, with her dress that billowed in the wind when they walked over green fields together. No. That thing could not be her. "Edward... Please, I-I..." She whispered under her heavy sobs. Loud thumps echoed outside the room. "I won't hurt you... Please believe me!"

The sobs that sounded so much like her broke his heart in half. But he remembered to what it belonged to. He would not fall for it. Even if he wanted to scream for help, knowing that no one would come. Even if a part of him wanted nothing more than believe it was all true and run towards its scaly arms. He gulped down his screams of fear, and remained silent. Frozen. Unmoving. He would not fall for it

The scrapes and scratches got louder. Scales hissed over the floorboards that chirred in protest.

"I'm not a monster. I'm not –" A claw unhinged itself from the floor and the creature raised itself up. A loud bump thundered on the ceiling, a shocked gasp echoed in the dry air. Edward clutched his eyes shut. Dust and debris fell on the ground. The monster laid down again, a heavy bang thundering in the silent house. The floorboards groaned as it settled on the ground.

"If you... If you look at me like that again, I-I think I'll go crazy... I can't stand it!"

Loud sobs filled the house. Edward flinched and clutched his eyes shut, breathing heavily, curling further inside himself. He resisted the urge to break down into tears.

The dragging and shuffling got heavier. The floorboards of his bedroom, the ones he was currently laid over, creaked in complaint of the weight being placed upon them. The sound got louder. Closer.

It was entering his room.

He sucked in a quivering gasp. Heart threatening to escape his throat, he shook as if the room was freezing cold, tears cascading down his face at the thought that he really could die now. He would die. He would die. Maybe he should. Maybe she should just end him.

He saw it. The black and yellow scales, shimmering as it moved. The snake body crawling as it reached the door, so massive it got stuck in the door frame. A push or two and it got free, the walls around it cracked, dust fell around him and a crunching sound reverberated in the room. Black claws scraped the ground, wood screeching in the deafening silence. A towering human body, pale torso as tall as him, laid down, auburn locks of hair trailing on the floor. The face obscured by its raised head.

It stopped moving. He looked at its skin with heaving breaths and widened eyes.

They remained still for what felt like an eternity. The only sound was his own heartbeat, his breathing and the creature's. The tail twitched and thumped against the walls with a loud noise. He flinched as his eyes darted back and forth, hearing the friction of scales against wood.

Silence.

She sniffed. And spoke first. "... When the civil war happened, we hid here once. You would wrap your arms around me, and we'd curl up together under the bed, praying that it'd protect us." – she whispered.

"– But even when I cried, even when we thought we would die, I still felt safe with you. Do you remember that, dear…?"

The sorrowful voice spoke of memories that a monster should not have. Edward felt cold. So cold, alone under that bed.

He closed his eyes tightly shut. Maybe, after a while, he wouldn't see her when he opened them. Hugging himself, Edward shuddered as a shiver crawled up his spine. Maybe he could still return to a normal life, where he didn’t hallucinate. Maybe he could still pretend none of this happened.

There was a shifting sound, and he sucked in a trepid breath. A thud, right in front of him. With his lips trembling, and teeth grinding against each other, Edward wondered if his death would be quick. But time stretched as the room fell into stifling silence, the monster's breathing ruffling on his face. It was right in front of him. He knew. He knew that he should just keep his eyes closed, waiting for his death. He knew that. His heart hurt inside his ribcage from pounding so hard, and his stomach sank lower with fear. He should close his eyes more firmly. He should just wait a while longer.

But instead, he opened them.

Her face. Her same crying face, if not for the magnified size and its greyish blue eyes with slitted pupils. A shadow of what once was her. His wife. The one he waited for so long. The one he imagined walking back to him as he sat by that porch every day. It did come back, as a monster, a ghost ready to haunt him, blame him for the pathetic man that he was, for not being able to prevent her from going missing. A reflection of what he lost. Evidence of his cowardice. A sign that he has gone mad.

That's what he wanted to believe.

But the face that resembled his wife so faithfully mirrored his expression of dread and grief. It covered itself in such humanity, with the exhausted eyes dripping with tears. With the mouth, when its pale lips parted as it sucked in a shaky breath, even if it revealed sharp teeth underneath. With its thick, auburn hair as it clung to her sweating face. It looked so distinctly human. So distinctly real. Not at all like a ghost. Not at all like a monster out to hunt him.

In that closeup by the gap under the bed, it just looked like his wife.

Edward’s breathing got less exasperated. His heart rocked less inside his chest. His tears dried as his widened eyes remained frozen on the figure before him. He glared at its mouth, as it opened to speak.

"Edward..." It whispered. So silently, so tender yet certain, just like the time when he had her by his side.

"... I am real."

The tears resurfaced, a mix of fear, hope and despair turned into quiet, then loud sobs, then muffled screams as Edward cried and curled up further under the bed, letting out years of frustration. Years of guilt as it made his chest hurt and his breathing to narrow. He couldn't hear her, who was sobbing on her own, as he drowned in the sorrows that leaked out of his weathered body like a dam that has been broken. Did he have her back? Could he really put a stop to this? He felt guilty. So guilty. Was that his fault? If he found her, would she have turned out like this? No, she wouldn’t. He knew she wouldn’t and that was why the tears wouldn’t stop. If the monster wanted to hurt him, Edward wouldn’t blame it, not even a little.

When he started to calm down, he didn't realize the creature was still there, in front of him, with tears gathered on its enlarged face. He regained his breath, steadily and gradually, refocusing his eyes on the grey blue irises. Her gaze softened, just like when she greeted him home after a tiring day, eyes inviting him for peaceful rest.

He needed that rest. More so than any other day.

"If I... If I move away, will you come out?"

She whispered so quietly Edward struggled to hear it. But it still sounded the same, that sweet, honeyed voice that said “I love you” with so much earnest and ease. But a part of him still doubted. His body still trembled under her alien gaze. Doubts echoed in his mind, and adrenaline pumped in his veins. If this was her, then how? Why? What kind of degenerate devil would do this to her?

But still, he wanted to believe... He did, but... He didn't want to die.

"Dear... If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I'd already done so?"

There it was, her bolder side, the one that always made her win an argument, that scolded him sometimes but he always loved it when she did. The one that now made him snap out of it, and helped Edward realize that he didn't have any power in this situation from the very beginning. The creature was huge and could see him. Indeed, if it wanted it would have hurt him long ago. Edward repeated this in his head over and over until it was enough to clear his mind.

In a glimpse of calmness, he managed to speak in what was left of his hoarse voice. "Yes... You're right, honey." And she smiled. A relieved, sad smile, one that did not have any hope in it, but that was glad he at least spoke to her like a person. Like his wife. Even if it was only for a little bit.

  She got up, the long claws visible for a second in Edward's field of vision. They recoiled towards the snake creature's chest as if it had touched a burning kettle, knowing he had seen its intimidating appendage. It shifted its body away and the scales glistened as it slithered towards the door. After a while, it stopped. The area in front of Edward was free to move now.

His heartbeat rocked louder. What if the moment he leaves it slices him open with those claws... – No. 'Snap out of it. Snap out of it.'  he repeated in his head, recalling the events and the fact that if it was a predator after its prey, he was already too difficult to be bothered with. He would be fine, Edward assumed. He had to be.

And if all of that was a lie, then it was better that he died anyway, granting the sweet release of death instead of sinking into his madness.

Because if all that he saw this night was not real, then he really has gone mad.

Edward took a deep breath. One... Two... The snake creature remained still.

Three.

He scrambled away from the bed and sat up in a hurry, heaving like he had run a marathon. Eyes closed. Waiting for the inevitable.

It never came.

So he opened his eyes, coming face to face with the creature's scales stretching in the distance. His heart throbbed.

"I-it's okay, honey... You're doing great." She whispered, voice clogged by her own desire to break down into tears.

Edward took another deep breath. In… And out. No closing his eyes now. And slowly, he raised his head up, searching for the face of his beloved. Even if he was shaking from head to toe.

His eyes trailed up her body. Nervous and slim hands, covered by black scales, interlaced over her lap. The scales of her tail became thinner and thinner as he looked up, their color contrasting against the ivory skin of her human upper body. It was ashen, slim, the torso alone was as tall as he was. He looked to the chest concealed by her hair, mahogany and wavy, just like he remembered, although the strands were much longer and thicker than before. And finally, he reached it. The same sweet, tender face, looking down at him. The trembling lips struggled to show a reassuring smile, forcing her mouth shut in order to cover the fangs underneath it. Those elongated eyes, with thick eyelashes that fluttered, blinking away tears. The same straight nose. Those previously beautiful blue eyes, now a greyer shade and with pupils like a reptile's, yet with that human, longing glance, darting around Edward's face as she analyzed his every expression.

It was her. No doubt about that now.

Edward opened his mouth and closed it, struggling to form words. Thoughts spiraled inside his mind. Feelings of guilt, frustration, anger, indignation. Fear. Sorrow. Pain.

Yet hope. Above all it was hope.

Edward got up, not taking his eyes off hers.

That was no monster. It was, indeed, his wife.

"Oh, Cordelia, what have they done to you?"

His voice whispered, thick with sorrow. He looked up to see pools of tears splashing from Cordelia's face, a clear expression of relief. She sobbed, burying her face in her clawed hands, relieved that her husband called her by her name again. Relieved that he was here. Relieved that he didn't see her as a monster, at least for that moment. A piece of humanity she lost, a piece of her previous life that she missed, a piece of hope that was snatched away from her seven years ago and that she never thought she'd have again. It was returning for her.

He was returning for her.

Cordelia was surprised by a warm touch over her scaled lap. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the rough back of her hand, looking down with a gasp. Her husband was rubbing his hand over it, tiny and shaking, comforting her. An attempt to reach out.

"D-don't. They are hideous..." Tears flowed on her face.

‘Indeed, they were’, Edward thought. He never liked snakes, their scales always making his skin crawl whenever he found one in the farm. The feeling wasn't any different as he trailed his hands over her, goosebumps raised the hairs on his skin and he shuddered with each motion. Edward exhaled shakily. No matter how much he looked at it, even if everything felt unreal at the moment, he couldn’t deny who was in front of him.

"They are still you." He said.

Cordelia widened her eyes and Edward looked up at her with compassion on his face. Love, longing. They both yearned for that. For the same feeling to return to them. For the same life, that was so cruelly snatched away from them, to return as if nothing had gotten between them in the first place. Even if it was a pointless dream.

They fumbled awkwardly at what to do.

Edward wasn't sure how to proceed. His mind conjured images of him holding her tightly, back to her human form, like a dream manifesting. Yet the reality loomed over him and the long tail that filled his bedroom in multiple coils covered his skin with goosebumps, a knot tightening on his throat.

He looked up and confirmed it, Cordelia's unsure face was there. He’s not crazy. All of that was still her.

She looked away under his apprehensive gaze, turning deep red and ashamed of herself. Edward took a deep breath; she didn’t feel well and he needed to fix this. He looked down. Then looked up again.

"Can I hold you?"

The question took Cordelia aback. She backed away from him and widened her eyes. Her tail bumped on the cabinet and he twisted his neck towards the source of the sound, clearly flinching from the movement.

He was still terrified of her. Then, why...?

"You don't need to do this, Edward. You did great already –“

"No. I want to do this. If you're really you, I want to do this."

Cordelia looked down and saw Edward's determined face. Her heart broke silently inside her. Why he was so adamant in dealing with her, Cordelia didn't know. But gosh, if it wasn't for his fear and for her disgusting claws, she'd have held him close a long time ago. She missed it so much. How much she missed his strong embrace.

So she nodded, and he came closer.

Edward couldn't quite contain how much he was shaking. Couldn't contain his jolt when he touched her frigid skin, chills crawling down his spine. But despite this, he pushed on forward, kneeling over her scaled lap, glancing at how they shone even in the partial darkness. With silent fascination, Cordelia let her arms hover around him.

A moment hung between them.

And Edward latched onto her. He rested on her torso and enveloped his arms around her, as much as he could, as they barely reached her back. Cold. She was cold like a corpse. He rested his cheek against her stomach, shivering upon contact. Gosh, it was so cold. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to hold her closer. Cordelia didn't remember the last time she sensed so much warmth. She felt herself getting hot inside even when she thought she was not capable of feeling warm anymore. Edward snuggled closer to her chest, and she sighed, relishing in his contact. Gently, like she was cradling an injured bird, Cordelia enveloped her arms around him, careful not to hold him too tight or not to loom over him, either. Gosh, the way her arms completely engulfed him... She felt monstrous. Edward shrank upon contact and she started to let him go, fearing this was a bad decision, but the feeling of his hug getting tighter made her arms remain still.

They stayed like this for an amount of time, taking in each other’s presence. Edward heard his wife's strong heartbeat against him, which grounded him in his current predicament, but still... Maybe he'd blink and she'd be gone, or maybe something would finally reveal that he'd made all of that up. Cordelia's embrace got a little tighter, not in a way that was hurting him, but she shifted around and her shadow loomed over as she curled around him. Her arms closed the hug in, and his heart skipped a beat.

"I missed you." she croaked.

She leaned over Edward, pulling him closer. He sighed in sweet relief upon hearing her melodic voice, feeling exhaustion weighing down on him as his body relaxed. He sank in her gentle embrace, kissing the surface of the freezing cold skin.

"I missed you too, dear."

...

They were laying on their backs under the early morning light, on the floor of the same bedroom where everything happened. Cordelia's tail stretched way further outside the room, disappearing through the door. Edward rested on top of her, not after much insistence that he wrapped a warm blanket around him. He ran his fingers through her hair, dazed, letting the reality of the situation sink in. He wasn't exactly afraid now, but the memories of the night made his heart twist with a mix of dread and guilt. Edward needed to know. How bad was everything that happened to her? Too much happened, she was gone, and now he had her back. It felt unreal and too real at the same time. And yet, Edward needed answers. Maybe, just for a few minutes, he thought, they could stay like this, and pretend that nothing had happened, but he knew that curiosity would get the best of him. Cordelia looked down at her husband with tenderness, watching as he caressed her hair, as she avoided touching him with her claws. She noticed his pensive expression and frowned.

“Is something wrong?

Edward hesitated, looking for ways to phrase his question. "What happened that made you turn into this?" He asked finally, tone even, yet with seething rage building up inside his chest. "Who did this to you?"

Cordelia sighed, closing her eyes. All the memories surfaced in her head like a messy conjecture of disfigured images and sounds. She took a shuddering breath, and spoke.

"I regained memories of you first before I remembered my own name..."

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 44

The dim, flickering lights of the hospital garage cast long shadows as I stood by the bike, nervously tapping my foot. The silence was oppressive, every echoing sound sending a jolt of fear through me, as if someone might step out of the darkness and pull the trigger. Steve should have already retrieved the flash drive Fury had given him and returned by now.

My hand instinctively flew to my handgun when I heard footsteps approaching. The tension broke slightly when I saw Natasha, her gum-chewing form nonchalant, with Steve following close behind. "Hey," she said, blowing a bubble and scrutinizing the bike. "I think we'll take my car," she added, her tone casual yet decisive. Steve, his face etched with tension, motioned for me to follow.

I slid into the front seat next to Natasha, the leather creaking under my weight, while Steve settled into the back. The car's engine rumbled to life, a comforting yet foreboding sound in the enclosed space.

"Where are we going?" I asked, glancing back at Steve. "Got the drive?"

He nodded, his expression grim. "We know who killed Fury and has been haunting you for the past few weeks. They call him the Winter Soldier. He's responsible for over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years. Nobody knows his true identity. He's practically a ghost," Steve explained, his voice heavy with the gravity of the situation.

A shiver ran through me. I knew he was dangerous, but this was something else entirely. I couldn't shake the memory of his eyes, the way they seemed to hold fear. "But what does he want from me? He says he knows me... but that he’s not supposed to know me," I said, feeling more confused than ever.

"We're here," Natasha announced, blowing another bubble with her gum. Steve started to get out, but she stopped him. "You stay here. The girls are going shopping," she said, motioning for him to hand over the flash drive.

He looked between us, hesitating, before reluctantly dropping the drive into her hand. Natasha swiftly grabbed a hat from the trunk and handed it to me, then deftly pulled the hood of her sweater over her head. With purposeful strides, we entered the mall, greeted by a cacophony of bustling shoppers darting to and fro with their bags.

"The first rule of going on the run is don't run, walk," Natasha whispered urgently, her eyes darting through the crowd, searching for any sign of Rumlow and his men. It suddenly struck me—I was now a fugitive, relentlessly pursued by Pierce and his corrupt Taskforce. And to compound the danger, a highly skilled assassin believed he knew me intimately, having meticulously monitored me for weeks; my apartment, unwittingly bugged by Fury the entire time. The weight of it all was suffocating. Gone were the days when the Nazis were our sole adversaries.

Natasha snapped me out of my reverie, tugging at my hand as she led me into a store selling computers. A cluster of people surrounded screens adorned with half-eaten apple logos, for some inexplicable reason. With practiced efficiency, Natasha swiftly plugged in the drive into one of the computers, her fingers deftly clicking away. I nervously scanned the store, half-expecting Rumlow to appear around the corner any moment.

"As soon as we boot up, S.H.I.E.L.D will pinpoint our location," she explained, her gaze fixed on the screen. I felt sweat bead on places I didn't know could sweat. "How much time do we have?" I asked, wiping my brow.

"About eight minutes," she replied. According to her, Fury had been right about the ship and someone was trying to conceal something.

"This drive is protected by some sort of A.I. It keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands," she continued. "Can you do something about it?" I asked, my fingers nervously tapping on the counter. Natasha looked frustrated. "The person who developed this is just a bit smarter than me... slightly."

She was in the midst of trying to trace the origin of the file when an employee approached us unexpectedly. Natasha swiftly covered the screen with her body and casually reached for my arm. "Oh, no, my fiancé here was just helping me plan our honeymoon," she said with an exaggerated grin. I felt my face flush with embarrassment, my eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

The employee glanced at both of us with a smirk. "Where are you beauties thinking about going?" he asked, peering at the map on the computer screen Natasha had open.

I turned to glance at the map and blurted out, "New Jersey," which seemed to surprise him. "Oh," he replied, taken aback. He didn't seem convinced and stared at me for a moment. "So, you like fishing?" he asked hesitantly. I was taken aback, unsure why he was bringing up fishing.

"Excuse me?" I replied, frowning in confusion. He pointed at my hat, which I had donned as a disguise. "Bass Pro Shop, I have the same hat," he explained.

"Oh, my hat! Yeah, I love fishing," I stammered, hoping he wouldn't delve further into the topic.

"What's your favorite spot?" he asked eagerly, clearly enthusiastic about fishing. "Uh, the ocean?" I stuttered, glancing over my shoulder to check on Natasha's progress.

Disappointed that we wouldn't be bonding over fishing, he smiled awkwardly and said, "If you guys need anything, I'm Aaron," before walking away.

I let out a heavy sigh, allowing my shoulders to slump. "How much time do we have left?" I asked, turning to Natasha.

"Okay, got it. Unless you want to stick around and chat about fish?" she quipped.

I pulled out the drive. "I'd much rather go on a honeymoon to Jersey with you."

She broke into a smile and replied, "Just tell me when."

We dashed out of the store, our eyes darting around as we scanned our surroundings. They were everywhere, earpieces crackling with communication as they searched for us. We hastened our steps as one of them approached directly towards us. "Just play along," Natasha whispered urgently, slipping her arm around mine and pulling our heads close. Suppressing nervous laughter, we giggled as we casually strolled past the unsuspecting agent.

Descending on the packed escalator, surrounded by a sea of bustling shoppers, it was difficult to spot all of Rumlow's men. Natasha's eyes widened as she spotted one on the opposite side. Suddenly, she turned to me with a startling question. "Ever kissed a girl before?"

Blushing deeply, I shook my head in surprise. Before I could comprehend her intent, she seized my face and pressed her lips against mine. I stood frozen, heart pounding, until she abruptly released me and turned away, continuing our escape without missing a beat.

She smiled at my bright red face. "I hope that wasn't too uncomfortable," she said. I shook my head. "No, it's just... women didn't do that in the '40s, at least not in public."

She chuckled as we stepped onto the elevator leading to the garage. "Yeah, they were just roommates back then."

Next Chapter

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

I was reading a story recently where Stiles and the Sheriff were talking about the things that keep happening around them and the Sheriff said something like Stiles talks and acts like veteran soldiers do and after thinking about it that analogy does fit his character so well. It also made me really want to read more stories to do with that idea so I was wondering if you knew any?

Here's some where he has PTSD.

A Little Bit of Encourage-Mint by Mischief_x_Managed

(1/1 I 3,273 I Not Rated I No Pairing)

Stiles goes to a therapist who doesn't try to kill him. Surprisingly it works out well.

Dating and Mating Stiles Stilinski by 1Ginger1Keyboard

(4/? I 4,838 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek isn't used to feeling anything as deeply rooted as the feeling revolving around the hyper teen that goes by the name Stiles Stilinski. It takes Derek a while to wrestle these emotions into a form that allows him to decided he wants to pursue them. Yet, he's normally the one being chased, Derek has never had a problem getting peoples attention, he has a good body and charming looks, so he has to work out how to win the heart of the hyper teen. And to put it gently, Stiles has his very own courting ritual that is unlike any wolf or human ritual. It's just, neither of them knows that. To make it worse, the wolf under Derek's skin is growing impatient.

///What am I?/// by Nel_Lino

(1/? I 6,068 I Explicit I Scallison)

Stiles: Why haven't burnt alive? How could Derek die? Why do I care if he died? *** Scott: I need you to own me, now. Isaac: turn around, little whore. *** Danny: And if you want to try some more of that stuff we did, count on me. *** Young Derek: come here you little superhero! Mietek: I am not a superhero, I am special human!

Dreams Will Be Unified by SilentMagic

(4/? I 16,585 I Mature I Sterek)

When Stiles woke up for his eighteenth birthday, he was expecting a day of celebration and maybe a pack party. He was not expecting to wake up beneath the Nemeton, nor sprouting four furry paws in an alternate reality to learn what it means to be a Guardian. He really should clarify to the universe that he would like a break for at least a whole year before the next supernatural event comes his way.

It Was a Wednesday by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(2/2 I 80,129 I Mature I Sterek)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

(10/10 I 70,382 I Mature I Sterek)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." -----

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

I'm not real. Am I? by lady emebalia (emebalia)

(64/64 I 127,977 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek is not real. He's just a pretty form Stiles came up with. At least that's what Stiles keeps telling himself.

You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter

(15/15 I 234,195 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Set at the end of season 2, Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn't easy.

The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.

Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!

Alpha, Mage, Pack by Foxfire2018

(48/? I 480,285 I Explicit I Sterek)

Set at the end of Season 2. Stiles was kidnapped and tortured for hours. Yet no one came for him. Hurt and cast out of the pack by people he thought cared for him, what is he to do? He finds himself accompanied by someone he never expected and someone he is eternally grateful for. Derek feels betrayed and foolish for what he allowed to happen. Out of anger and hurt he forced a valuable member he really started to care for out of his pack. With the pack scattered and people hurt, what will come of them? Will they bond together again in time for the next big bad?

AND

@neverdust suggested this one!

Play It Again by metisket

(3/3 I 53,206 I Teen I Sterek)

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

[anteroom-of-death]

Spin in the City ch. 2

Synopsis: Samantha dwells on things as Malcolm’s first day comes to fruition. A bit of a spark?

A/N: I don't know anything anymore ever. Bon Appétit! Yay! A Samantha chapter. Double yay!

Samantha remarked that the shell of this titan of politics was a bit…saddening to see. Usually, she didn’t care if a man lived or died unless that man had wronged her or a friend. Men were there to fuck and forget, after all!

No, this odd old man tugged on her heartstrings. She was a London girl by way of her mother and visiting the city for her grandparents over the years, but even she, in all her American-Ness, knew what a shit deal that some Glaswegians got. Especially certain neighborhoods and certain…types…of Scottish people. She did a quick search online and found out about the East-West divide in Gorbals, it’s reputation for a hard-scrabble life and a… supposed vampire problem? She admitted she wasn’t educated enough to fully know every detail. She just knew the headlines and what it fully was may forever be a mystery to her.

She wasn’t ageist by any means. She was older than him by a year it seemed. However, in comparison, he looked rough. Nearly completely grey with a haunted look that you only saw on people who left war zones in his eyes. Obviously, he wasn’t big on the skincare routines that most men she’d slept with or worked with in the past seemed to cling to.

A more natural look, perhaps.

It wasn’t unattractive, she just usually preferred her men to look like they gave a damn.

She would master him eventually. At this rate, he’d he easy to tame compared to him at the full height of his power.

The next task distracted her and she went on to do work, real work. No thought of Malcolm Tucker and the shaky, hollow look in his grey-green eyes.

Time went on, the week dragged, a promotional tour for a luxury skincare brand, some influencer drama, par for the course. She even went to some event and fucked the hell out a of young, hot new singer.

She hadn’t any real friends anymore, not a single gal pal.

The morning of Malcolm’s first day rolled around. She didn’t remember until she walked into the office and he was there early, Red Bull in hand and a bag of Satsuma.

She enjoyed being early, gave her some silence to sit down and get a good amount of work in before another person could get a jump on the day. By afternoon, she could relax and look ahead towards the weekend and perhaps find out if it was worth it to find new friends at her age.

She still ached, despite Rock kept begging her to help them come out, she couldn’t even bear the thought of Charlotte hearing and it getting back to Carrie. It halfway seemed like the poor child was close to jumping on a plane to cling to their Auntie Sam.

She couldn’t really blame them. Charlotte was traditional and had trouble wrapping her mind around rayon-blends. The nuances of gender were probably lost on her.

Samantha wasn’t up to date, but she was open-minded and understood some things.

The most she would do was send flowers in condolences…

Last she heard, Carrie had spread it from Montauk to Morristown that she was some money-hungry grubby bitch who couldn’t deal with her firing her as publicist.

The truth was so much darker and more twisted than that…

Samantha shuddered any time she thought of what she’d found out about dear Mr. Big.

What was the term the younger girls were using these days? A pick me? Carrie, the pick me choosing that ill-advised man yet again. A form of self-harm really. Despite any evidence to point to anything, she was hell bent to chose John Preston over friends or rationality.

No wonder her grapevine, what little still existed in New York after Carrie spun that tale, that that Natasha woman was afraid to leave her house suddenly.

Carrie would never let anything go.

How many times had she, Miranda and Charlotte had to pace the streets while Carrie got her money’s worth in chatter?

Samantha regretted her years of loyalty in retrospect.

However, in this current day, in this current moment, there was a man in an outdated suit getting up to open the door, despite Samantha having the keys.

“Did you really come in early for your first day?” She drawled on in that tiny dog owner voice. The ‘good boy’ was tacked on implicitly.

If he was as good as the legends of Wikipedia said, he’d pick up on that.

He shot her a look, but didn’t bother to talk back.

He did.

“I was going to have Alexis do your on-boarding, but you’re here now.” She walked into her office and laid her stuff down and hung up her coat.

“You’re at the slack desks with the rest of the middle talent.”

Malcolm snorted, she could see the cogs in his brain turning. The line of his lips did something.

She gave him a key fob and some paperwork to fill out, “I’ll be in my office. You’ll get more to do when Alexis is in. Coffee maker and kettle is on that wall, along with the snacks and samples. The restrooms are over here…” She pointed towards a door, “You might appreciate the anti-ageing creams…” She joked as she started back.

“Aye, ma’am. I’ll look like a rent boy soon enough, you’d like that.”

Samantha laughed, her first real laugh in about a year.

“You’re funny, I’ll pay extra for funny.” She swatted his shoulder and made off.

She got her work done and made off to make herself a latte, she noticed that the work was done and he’d left his desk. There was small picture placed near the plug for laptops. (Among an already torn apart and devoured satsuma…) She silently cursed her partner for being off sick, would make this entire operation today go smoother if it wasn’t only her and Malcolm in a sea of young movers and shakers.

She glanced, it was a woman. Not mousy but definitely mousy-adjacent. She had an easy smile and was holding a book. Deep in thought, a thick knitted blanket engulfing her.

A candid snap.

She felt touched as she walked.

It was almost time for the rest of the team to come in.

Let’s see what that old dog had him, she found herself thinking as she took her latte back to her desk.

Malcolm made his way back to the desk from the restroom.

The rest of the day flew by. She was in meetings and on-call for it so she had little time or need to visit outside her office. Her PA kept her in food and drink.

She called Alexis to the office.

“How’s the new hire going?” drunk, tone clearly skeptical.

“Besides general tech-illiteracy, fine. He even helped us in layouts for what Hermès wanted to do with Sasha McAllan’s brand deal.” Alexis seemed genuinely impressed. “Nothing sus, just swears way to casually.”

Samantha nodded her head. It wasn’t uncommon to swear in the workplace, but if someone had to point it out, it definitely wasn’t a minor issue.

She’d pull him aside later.

For now, she was going to finish up, go home and bang her head against the wall or worse, join Tinder like some agoraphobic millennial.

As she made her way to the lift and locking up, a thin hand snaked for the button and pressed for her.

“I thought you’d be scattered like the rest of these teeny-boppers.” She remarked.

“I had to master the apps.” He seemed sheepish in admittance.

“I haven’t lived in London since I was a girl, where can a good woman get a stiff drink around here?”

“I haven’t had a fucking drink since the night I assassinated Campbell.” Malcolm shot out.

Samantha shot him a look, “Assassinated?” She couldn’t keep the shock and curiosity out of her voice.

“Stole my mentor’s job. Should have seen that happening to me. Who fucking knew he’d actually developed a spine in the course of his appendectomy and that inquiry!”

She knew of Campbell, she’d thought of fucking him when she was younger.

But who was the replacement of his replacement? Was he as fuckable as the man Malcolm replaced?

Another thing to Google later on…

“Point taken.”

“There is a real Italian café near Downing Street if I recall. Does real nice fuckin’ tiramisu, filling's white and thick as a baby’s arse.” He went on, as if that was an appropriate way to describe food. “I’m distantly related to the owners.” He tacked on.

“Maybe they do Spritzes?” He shrugged. “Sorry, love, I lived here for decades and only knew what was outside my door and wherever Sam told me to go.”

He trailed off at the mention of a Sam character.

Against her better judgment, Samantha invited him along with her. She even offered to pay, he protested and said, “Not me, boss, I’m real fucking old school. I’m no weak fifty-fifty bitch.”

More to endear him to her.

Curiosity got her cat. Or however that old saying went…

The two people huddled into the lift and went out into the street, onto something...

[sachingja]

"It'll all feel better in the morning." ( junho and inho )

the words are a familiar thing, a worn-out melody, having grown flimsy and thin from repetition. inho used to speak those words to his younger brother what must have been a millennium ago — but is really just two odd decades or some, muddled with memories of a stint in the military, as every other, well-bodied man of their home country — whenever junho got sick, or their parents would fight. sounds heard through thin walls, or the despair of a child clinging to someone, anyone, for some sort of relief. the memories are hazy in quality, mingling and overlapping with the pictures of the present. junho is not seven anymore; the child inho used to take care of, that adolescent who used to follow him around, that would clamor for his appreciation and appeal has grown into a man. hands bloodied and dirt beneath his nails, rough knuckles and unkempt eyes, like some haunting must have taken place in the very recent past, something junho cannot seem to shake.

inho figures it might be him. his disappearing act once a year, vanishing into thin air. quitting the force, the kind of institution junho used to strive for, following in his footsteps, only for inho to leave it all behind. but things are easier here, on the other side. inho worries less these days, busy with finessing the games and making sure everything will go off without a hitch and according to plan. he has customers, investors to satisfy, people who use their valuable money to fund the very same thing inho has grown so adept at handling. it must be in his nature, maybe. an inherent, innate understanding of violence.

the human disposition is easier to understand if stripped bare. like sick children, people will seek for any sort of relief when they are scared and mindless. bloodshed, inho thinks. an ancient medical practice of relieving pressure, scraping sickness out of a body. emptying it entirely.

" junho, " he says, the vowels distorted and strange in his mouth. stripped off the pink guard uniform, junho looks more like inho's brother than he can stand, than he could ever remember. he has matured in the last few years, delicate lines forming around his eyes. the passage of time has never been more apparent to inho than now. maybe, he should kill his brother. another abhorrently human instinct, biblical. but if he would kill junho now, what difference would it make in the long run? the thoughts are all bitter on his tongue. " i will not leave. "

( and neither will you. )

why? maybe because junho is asking him not to. did inho ever leave him to fend for himself all those years ago? no. he would not do that to his brother. after all, blood tells tales, too. it is all it ever does, it seems.

there is sweat beading junho's brow, the rust-red staining his shirt deepening in color, drying in patches. inho watches the hurt marring junho's face, finding it to be a reflection of himself. their mother used to say they looked alike, despite the fact that inho had sixteen years on him. perhaps their eyes, or the shape of their nose. something in the carefully calculated angles of their jaws, or whatever else she would find that would convince her. but inho can see it now, too, how alike they are after all — junho a shadow of himself, an after-image of his youth.

" it will hurt less once the bullet is out, " he explains, earning a glare. junho is so pale, he appears ashen. inho is ignoring the pain pulsing inside his shoulder, his chest, a twin-ache. " let me help you. "

⋆ . · * ·✵ · ✹ · ✹ *  gentle care / accepting.

[caputgeratlupinum]

In which I (re) watch Robin of Sherwood

In the dim and distant past (of a few years ago) I started watching Robin of Sherwood. I dropped out after the end of season 2, when *events* happened (if you know, you know).

Anyway, this to say that I started watching it again, and I thought it would be fun to record my reactions to it. I remember it as being a good if slightly silly show, so... we'll see how it holds up.

EPISODE ONE - ROBIN HOOD AND THE SORCERER (PART 1)

We are starting off strong with the Ominous Bad Guy theme that sent me back to the last time I watched this with the force of a hammer (this show has about five soundtracks and they all come up like once an episode).

Our introduction to adult Robin is him running to the top of a... something, I'm not sure if it's a hill or a ledge or what. Anyway he runs there, stops, and screams 'MUCH!'. Which must be wildly confusing if you're not familiar with Robin Hood.

ITVX doesn't let me take screenshots (tragically) but I need you all to know that Guy of Gisborne looks about twelve and speaks like he went to fancy boarding school.

Hi Will Scarlet I have fond memories of you from last time! And I think this might be the first time he's 'scarlet' as in 'bloody' rather than named for his hair or clothes. Also the second Will tells them his name another man steps out of the shadows to introduce himself like he's desperate to get in on the action.

ROBERT! ROBERT! BY CHRIST ROBERT I WILL NOT LOSE MY FISHPOND! 10/10 introduction no notes. Genius move to give the Sheriff an annoying brother in the form of Abbot (??) Hugo.

Sheriff duties: keep on top of the poachers in the forest, and meet with the evil sorcerer baron and his... possessed slave? I'm vague on what position Little John holds here.

Sorry, Sir Evil Baron (yes I know his name is Simon de Bellame. I'm ignoring that), but I don't believe for a second that your wife taking her own life was nothing to do with you.

Did I mention Marian and Tuck are here? They are! I love them both very much.

I can't believe they that they just leave Rat Man and Arthur behind. I demand a spin-off about what happened to them.

'You're like a May morning.' *climbs out the window without another word* I mean to be fair to Robin if I tried that line I'd probably also flee immediately afterwards.

I really wish I could do screenshots because Herne the Hunter's vision of various events with Evil Baron's face over it all, slowly getter bigger and bigger, is truly a sight to behold. Robin honestly took that pretty well.

The classic bridge fight is very enjoyable but I am haunted by the knowledge of the blooper reel where Michael Praed gets hit in the balls. And Robin's dramatic scream as he falls off the bridge is sending me.

Last time I wasn't really sure how to feel about the Herne the Hunter stuff, and right now I'm in the same place. uhh... stag-man. With vague prophecies. I dunno... 'when the horned one possesses me' ok but who are you when he's not possessing you? How does one become possessed by the horned one in the first place (I know none of this is the point. I just have questions!)

If I were one of the merry men, I would find it easier to agree with Robin's Heroic Inspiring SpeechTM if it hadn't started with him explaining how he's been 'awakened' by a deer-headed man.

I feel like Will saying, 'You should have killed him. You'll have to someday.' is setting up for a conflict down the line where Robin has to make a Choice about Gisborne some day, but I don't remember any such plot.

aaand that's it! I didn't mention every single thing that happened, there's a lot happening in this episode. Genuinely had a good time though! Despite my poking fun at stuff, I do actually like this show.