#lillys one is based on my memory of one i used to own as a kid.. it was one of my fav outfits

[tomaturtles]

Band shirts! 🎶

[disneyanddisneyships]

OKAY SORRY

Aponi torturing her ex

okay forgive me if the characterization in this sucks. I haven't gotten used to their personalities yet-

This is an Alastor x OC fic

Warnings: mentions of rape, suicide, misogyny, death, hell, torture, descriptions of torture, insanity, wounds, name calling, *heavily used* curse words, mentions of private parts being stabbed, and brutality.

This is based on an 18+ show so read at ur own risk.

It was the anniversary of Aponi's death, and to say she was feeling under the weather would've been an understatement.

She had been dead for almost 50 years now and she had no idea where the time went.

Right when she had died, she had gone to see the I.M.P.'s to get her asshole of an ex exterminated.

The job was done and he was down in hell with her, but she didn't have the energy or the time to hurt him herself.

Just knowing that he was dead was enough for her sometimes.

But today the memories of everything had been flooding back into her life.

So today she decided to lock herself in her room at the hotel all day and eat junk food.

However, her boyfriend had other ideas.

He was utterly insane.

Aponi had told Alastor about her death and what lead up to it, but she never told him her ex had been down in hell for 50 years, same as her.

If she had told him, this would've been done already.

Alastor had something to cheer her up.

He knocked on her hotel room door.

"Darling, I have a suprise for you!" He exclaimed.

A few clicks on the door and Aponi opened it so he could walk in.

"What's up?" She asked as she turned off her TV.

Alastor grabbed her hand and dragged her along with him.

"Alastor, darling what is this all about?" She asked as she walked with him.

"Its a suprise, my dear!" Alastor stated before bringing her into a dimly lit room with a person tied to a chair in the middle.

"Jason?" Aponi stated, her eyes wide as she took in the image of her rapist ex boyfriend, tied down, fear in his eyes.

"Lilly?" He asked in return.

Alastor's smile got sharper and his eyebrows knit together at the sound of his significant other's real name being spoken by someone who wasn't worthy to speak at all.

"That's not my name down here," Aponi replied, a bit angrily, but still keeping her composure. "Alastor, what's going on?" Aponi asked as she turned to him.

"That phsyco kidnapped me and tied me up here," Jason answered. "C'mon princess. Untie me?" He asked.

Alastor tilted his head to the side, his eyes getting darker and scarier.

"Alastor why did you bring him here?" Aponi asked.

"I thought torturing him would bring you joy, Darling!" Alastor explained.

"She doesn't have the guts!" Jason scoffed.

"No one was talking to you, asshole," Aponi replied before turning back to alastor.

"Consider it a gift for you, my dear!" Alastor continued.

"You did this for me?" Aponi asked, love in her eyes.

"Well of course! The happier you are the happier it makes me!" Alastor exclaimed.

"Loving the little fuckfest you two have going on, but come on! Lilly you're not actually gonna hurt me!" Jason argued.

"Oh my fucking God. Shut up!" Aponi shouted, throwing a small knife into his shoulder.

He screamed in pain.

"I can't believe you actually did that!" Jason shouted.

"This is hell. No one cares," Aponi replied before walking over to him and yanking the knife out of his shoulder.

"You're such a slut," Jason stated, wincing.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Alastor twitch, trying his hardest not to help her with the torture.

"Says the rapist," Aponi replied. "You know... I've been dreaming about doing this for years.... I've had many fantasies about it. And I think I might start by cutting off every single one of your fingers," Aponi stated.

"What?" Jason asked.

"Alastor, my darling, will you please bring me some dull scissors? The longer they take to cut, the more pain will be inflicted," Aponi explained.

Minutes later Jason was crying.

"Please stop!" He cried out.

"Oh those words sound so familliar! Don't you think?" Aponi asked.

"I'll do anything!" He cried out once again.

"Will you give me anything I want if I stop?" Aponi asked.

"Yes! Please! Just stop!" He shouted.

"I want my girl hood back. It was mine first," she stated. "Or maybe if thats too much, I'd like you to apologize," Aponi replied.

"Okay I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He stated over and over again.

Aponi smirked before digging her knife into his dick.

The scream he gave out rung through the building.

"That's to make sure you don't do that to anyone else," Aponi stated.

"You're letting me go?" Jason asked.

"Not that I was aware of," Alastor stated with a confused smile.

"I just thought this would be a fun thing to do every year, darling. Next time you can help. It'll be like a date night!" Aponi explained.

Alastor smirked. "Ohohooo you are insane. I love you!" Alastor exclaimed.

"And I, you, my darling. Now let's go! I saw this amazing restaurant on the way here," Aponi stated before walking out of the building, leaving her ex behind, tied to a chair and bleeding.

[theyenvymarleyyy]

Sunny inhaled deeply as he walked around the field with a tune he's used to humming on repeat. The cigni neri and him were planning their next steps when he had excused himself for a walk bow on his back and a sea of flowers meeting every corner of the greenery such as butter cups and Lilly of the valley. he wanted to laugh as he translated their meanings. and he sat down and took off his quiver. He thought of his brother and parents and how Levy would pat his head sometimes and give him a smile he missed his brother before going away and becoming a damn pawn for the queen did he forget about him at the palace? he was sure it was brainwashing! hed seen her smiles they looked so real… or how his mother and father just let him go with just a fucking smile! they hadn't smiled with such warmth sense as long as his memory goes only in pictures before his time and they still didn't look that happy they were blinded by the queen's actions he was sure of it! She was playing them like a fucking fiddle. The cigni neri was right he knew it! or was he just jealous? hed do what was right and make his own name. anything to get away from those pity-filled stares as they talked about the old news of someone he never knew Sunny regained his calm and decided to shoot a few things to get some practice in. Contrary to what most even know of Sunny he was a good shot even without his glasses only helping him to fulfill his dream Wasn't it to live alone and garden in peace….? When did it change Birds of all kinds were dead as he collected them and put them in something to carry them (never a corvid. Hed puke if he killed one) and as he was getting ready to leave he saw some lilacs they had gotten them a lot when he was little. and thought of her Nova was her name right? His sister and the eldest. the one he’ll never meet when he can remember  died to a monster or something and so he drifted to what she would've been like would she be brash and abrasive or kind and polite? Would it be both? Was she skilled with a bow as he was? did she get the warmth Mom and Dad always had in those photos? They seem so cold compared to those did she randomly pick up stuff and fixate on it? Did she enjoy cooking as he did? Maybe have a strange connection with certain birds. would she have loved or hated him? Did she enjoy getting her hands dirty or keeping them clean? How was Levy back then did he smile more? Would he have left if it was her begging him to stay? He snapped out of it when one of his messenger crows came with a letter for him to return to base. he wondered what her favorite flowers would've been.

Bro you wanna have my Story as a gift BC OMG THIS IS SO GOOD????

Like

WHAT

This is so sick I expected good but WOW

[sulphuricgrin]

10 and 15 for any and all OCs you feel like doing for that TES OC Interview thingy!! :3

Hell yeah, let's go! Thank you!!

TES OC Interview Game

10. Does this character have anything in common with you?

I'll be real, maybe a tiny bit too heavy, [TW] but Lilliandra's wish to tear reality apart to erase her existence is admittedly partially based off my depressive episodes and passive suicidal ideation. (I'm doing much better with medication, psychiatrist, therapy, and finding a community here. Bipolar can be difficult.) I actually didn't even realize it until much, much later after I developed that part of her.

On a lighter note, I just love music. I self-taught myself piano when I was a teen, but haven't played any instruments in probably 15 years. So that's all Lilli. Oh, and both of us being philomaths!

I don't think I have much in common with Elikar

Cinnara would be just the love for the arts in general!

While not talked about, Elikar and Lilliandra's father, Vandoril - we share a love for philosophy!

15. Tropes, tropes, tropes! Do any come into mind for this character? Or do they subvert any?

I already answered Elikar and Lilliandra in two separate posts, but i'll copy/paste because tropes are cool and I just love this question. (Yes, I know I made the list. Why do you think it was on there? lol)

Elikar:

The Atoner

Beware the Nice Ones - Incredibly kind-hearted and likes to see the good in everyone, but will not hesitate to fight and will give a good-earned beat down

Defector from Decadence - Defected from the Dominion 

The Fettered - Responsibility, honour, and justice; unlike Lili, he has has lines he will not cross, actual morals; he’s the real Hero

Foil - To Lilliandra

Military Mage - during his time in the Dominion military 

Morality Pet - He is one to Lili

What the Hell, Hero? - constantly to Lili

Lilliandra:

Acid-Trip Dimension - potentially her own pocket realm, reflecting her fractured mind/memories; also what it’s like with her torturous illusions

Black Knight - a mirror to Elikar’s The Paladin imagery; especially as Boethiah’s champion

Cruel and Unusual Death - She has an incredible mean streak, dishing these out. Have a list, will not post in an ask in case of tw.

The Dreaded - both to dragons, her victims, and (to a lesser extent) Miraak when she shows up with all the dragon priest masks, having killed his former fellow priests and even his would-be jailor, and a necromantic lich dragon helping her

Evil Hero | Villain Protagonist

Evil Versus Evil - Dragonborn DLC; After waking up the first time on Solsthiem under Miraak's control after sleeping there, she takes great effort to contact Vaermina, offering to torture and give those souls to her in return for a trinket to stop his interference during her sleeping/dreams. Vaermina gives her a steep price and only hours to complete her mission and the trinket would only continue to work if she fed it tortured souls. Lili in turn starts picking off those Miraak has in control building on the island, defenseless, and feeds the trinket their souls. EVIL v EVIL

Faux Affably Evil | Villain with Good Publicity - By playing nice and downplaying her sinister, ulterior motives, she's able to coerce people into going along with her plans without realising just what they've signed onto.  She’s smart enough to use her title as the legendary Dragonborn (Stormcrown) to convince the public she was a hero, and not a villain.

Functional Addict - consumes a majority of drugs, always attempting to cloud the memories; tobacco, moon sugar & skooma, alcohol, opium, etc

Malevolent Masked Man - begins to hide her face, but for privacy and as a psychological threat if it’s a scary mask

Mama's Baby, Papa's Maybe

One-Winged Angel - when she’s willing to transform herself into a Bone Goliath

Pragmatic Villainy

Screw You, Elves! - particularly against the Dominion

Surreal Horror - her illusions and her hallucinations

The Unfettered "Necessity knows no law."

[zenkor123]

Preface to After the End: Assassination attempt on Katniss WIP

It was in level 9 Zone 4 in the hospital near where I currently sleep. I woke up disoriented and almost mute. I was much transformed by my mutation the nurses present were Dr Cochrane, Primrose everdeen, Lilly Dewey, Michael Phillips. Lilly Dewey noticed large amount of jacker venom in my blood and urged caution but this was overuled by Dewey. I shook at the needle. I had not had this much food in months however but all I felt was fear, anger and loathing of my capital designated target. Despite our pasts she seemed eager to see me. Perhaps she felt a Seam debt and wanted to give me sex. She could not have come at a worse time. Though my mind was rendered a mere robotic slave the food gave it some levels of complexity. Upon reflection I now unfairly blamed Katniss for the pain I underwent during my mutation. I also feared that Katniss was going to kill me basing it off capital fabrications that Katniss with supernatural powers sent me to the games. So when she came I lunged at her broke the glass and pinned her to the floor strangling her my fingers going into her throat. Her pulse almost stopped, and she was as blue as if she was mutated herself. . I was knocked out by boggs and Haymitch manually due to the lack of seditives. Katniss's lover Gale saw the whole thing and Katniss . Cochrane was demoted for disregarding the warning signs pointed out by Dr Dewey. An assasin mutt when used up might as well be dead they only have one opportunity for the element of suprise then the capital does not care. Boggs had the authority to order me shot on the spot and I am eternally grateful both for the rescue and their help in my recovery. If Katniss wasn't trying to kill me before she almost certainly tried or at least planned it afterwards. I wish I could apologize for the whole thing and everything else but she would try to kill me anyways. She watched my bed to further this plot my demise becuase whether as Peeta or an assasin mutt I have brought her nothing but suffering. But armed guards, the presence of her sister Prim, and cameras made my termination a daunting task. Delly came to visit but amid the destruction of my memories I somehow remembered her as a friend with just blurs or berries within my empty dark mental wasteland. She was friends with Peeta Mellark not me however, but she believed that d13 could resurrect him. She made it a project of charity to get her friend back. They first conducted loads of tests to find out more about me, assasin mutts primarily targeted people from the subjected districts not 13. I provided the first scientific sample of an assasin mutt to the rebels, and hopefully the insights gained will aid Panem agianst future assassinations. Among the things they discovered was that my neuronal pathways were damaged, my body was producing antibodies to combat Jacker poisons, my amygdala was swelling, my heart was modified to be able to sustain more stress without getting a heart attack, and I no longer responded to new pain, when my Amygdala swelled it made it harder for the rest of my brain to control my fear based reactions. They also placed a dormant rabies virus that was to kill me in 6 months, they hoped It would not be noticed by the underestimated 13 but they swiftly disposed of the viruses. The rabies would have been highly contagious and I would have been made into a bioweapon. Coin ordered Annie to be quarentined and gave more resources to the tests. My leg also needed surgery.I made Prim promise to protect me from her. The Jacker venom was only slowly infiltrating my brain prior to the mind breaker pills, the capital with the arsenic pill basically cracked open an egg enabling the venom to get through. Neural pathways were its chief target and memories were effectively scrambled. I could barely eat on my own though my IQ was the same. Yet I believed that Katniss destroyed district 12 with her bow and arrows, and my grief at the capital taking everything from me (except the victors house and money was directed at her. I didn't even know if she was alive or not but I didn't care

[impulsivefanwriter]

@finn-m-corvex you brilliant funky moot you've got SO MANY GREAT QUESTIONS WHICH ARE GETTING ME TO THINK ON THIS—

Starting with the movie!Bizarros— Kaigami is the only one I had full details on when the AU was first made (they are a bean and my little blorbo that needs all the hugs), but since then I’ve been spitballing some headcanons with my friends on the others—

In normal movieverse hcs, they go as follow:

- Jayden (bizarro Blue) is a young oni that snuck over from the continent of Onitoryū (the First Realm) to the continent of Ninjago (yes we hc’d that the realms exist as continents in the movieverse before Dragons Rising existed), saw Blue, and used his image as his shapeshifting disguise because he’s bad at shapeshifting fully (the fluffy hair hides the horns, the scarf hides the tusks/fangs, the hoodie pocket hides claws, baggy clothes hides tail, etc.)

— Charcoal (Bizarro Black) is a clone made by Vangelis to get vengeance on Lilly for messing up his plans back in the day (she’s a big hero in Shintaro because she split the land away from the continent of the Cloud Kingdom and made it its own mini continent/island)

— Oread (Bizarro White) is a nindroid built by Garmadon’s enginerds (he has seagull/pelican/osprey features because Garmadon has to insert sea-creature themes into all of his designs)

So in the D:BH AU, Oread would kinda be like RK900 (except probably get rescued too), Jayden could be one of the androids at Jericho that looks up to Blue as inspiration (or perhaps Cyberlife/the Mechanic tries to build a new Blue because he supposedly was destroyed?), and Charcoal could be— uh— a vibing human? Or an android teen model based off Black in case he didn’t make through the cyborg surgery?

Yeah White and Zero (Cryptor) share the role of Connor in the sense that Zero is more the deviant-hunter side (except already deviant) and White was deviant but lost his memories and thinks Cyberlife built him, not Dr. J, and follows their orders (he does eventually come to his senses and regains deviancy, probably while encountering Echo)

Blue does not want to be the leader of the rebellion because, you know, anxiety + social anxiety, but whoops he’s an advanced model that found himself in a leadership position and has accidentally started the revolution. 

And you are ABSOLUTELY right— Black would be the “North” equivalent (or Simon) because while Jaya is cute, movie!Bruise is just adorable (also I hc movie!Nya/Cyan as a lesbian as opposed to show!Nya)— Cyan would absolutly be the one to suggest violence though and if anyone hurt Blue (which technically Cliff and the Ambers already have since he got… a bit disassembled on his way to the junkyard), Black would be right there with her on letting the city burn

As for Luther- technically no, though the "Kara" story does already have the RGB sibs looking out for each other. EXCEPT I JUST HAD THE PERFECT IDEA WHILE TYPING THIS OUT- the Luther-esc figure could TOTALLY be movie!Morro (normally a tired college student looking out for his cousin Green, in this case either human or an android)

I’m really glad you like the AU :D If you’ve got more ideas or questions or comments PLEASE send them because it’s so fun to think about with a friend/mutual

https://www.tumblr.com/impulsivefanwriter/733578350737719296/the-lego-ninjago-movie-but-its-a-dbh-au ask about the D:BH AU and I shall receive :D

YES YES YES HI YES I SAW IT AND I THOUGHT I REBLOGGED IT BUT I JUST. COMPLETELY MIND-BLANKED SO FORGIVE ME JFALJFKDLJFAL

Choosing to make Kai the android instead of Lloyd is such a cool decision??? Like so much respect for not immediately jumping to making Lloyd the Thing just because he's the most main character-coded person in Ninjago. I'm also VERY interested in Kaigami; will the other Bizarros be here as well, or just Kai's?

ZANE AS CONNOR?! YOUR HONOR I AM SCREAMING AHHHHHHH I FUCKING LOVE CONNOR ABSOLUTELY YES I AM IN LOVE

JAY AS MARKUS?!

RESPECTFULLY I AM FULLY DOWN TO CLOWN WITH THIS CONCEPT HELL FUCKING YES?! SO GOOD?! IS COLE THE NORTH EQUIVALENT IS THIS BRUISE OR IS THIS JAYA OR IS IT NEITHER DAJKSLJFSAKLJF I MUST KNOW MORE

IS THERE A LUTHER YET?!

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Of Bruised Knees and Climbed Trees

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Collection/Series: Western AU- Putting Down Roots

Pairing: Sheriff Din Djarin x Female Teacher Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Rating: G

Warnings: N/A

Summary: He has always been gentle with the little one’s but it is nothing compared to the sureness with which he climbs the tall tree and gentleness with which he reassures one of your students that they can in fact make the climb down and they’ll be okay.

Notes: We all love papa Din and is there anything sweeter than this guy being all gentle and kind to scared little one’s? Pure dad material.

Archiveofourown

Lunch times at the schoolhouse were never quiet affairs. After eight years as a school teacher you had learnt that if something was going to happen, it was inevitably going to happen at lunch time when the children were out of the classroom doors and in the fresh air. Touch wood, you think touching the wall of the schoolhouse, you had yet to have anything too dramatic happen this school year. There had been no fights between the older boys and girls which had in previous years had a tendency to happen as frustrations and teenage angst boiled over. There had been no major injuries, no children had gone missing at lunch time, and no one had attempted to tattoo another child like Davey McDonald that one year. He had definitely been the source of most of your schoolhouse drama. With him having completed his school last year, perhaps, you thought, this year might prove to be uneventful. 

This year had been rather tame and as you stood on the wooden porch of the schoolhouse watching your children make the most of their hour to run, get fresh air, and eat their lunches, you couldn’t help but smile. You watched Grogu, Mary-Beth and Timmy playing at the small pond, more of a puddle really, that rested near the school. Mary-Beth was showing both boys how to skip stones and Grogu seemed impressed every single time she managed to get a perfect skip. Timmy fumbled at his attempt, stone landing in the water with a sploosh! 

Your eyes drifted to the older kids, eating their lunch and giggling together in groups. The boys had separated off from the girls, no doubt more and more aware of their differences as courting became a new interest in their eyes. Soon you’d have the usual problems of teenage love on your hands, sweet, but always requiring your eyes to be peeled. While the boys would face no repercussions for a dalliance, the girls would, and you always made sure to keep a chaperone's watchful eye on them each year. Much to their annoyance. 

You spotted Jerome sitting on his own, sketchbook and pencil in hand and carefully walked your way over, picking through the rocks and fallen leaves as the weather began to turn colder. He was wrapped up full, only a little bit of his face visible beneath a large scarf and fluffy hat.

“Do you mind if I sit with you, Jerome?” 

“Not at all, Miss.” He quickly goes back to his drawing and despite the desire to peek you resist the urge and wait for him to offer to show you, if that were to happen at all. You pride yourself on creating relationships born from trust with your pupils and part of that was letting them come to you rather than demanding they share things. Jerome had become more willing to share his art bit by bit, preening under your admiration and praise and you hoped that it would be enough to encourage him to pursue his dream of art school. You had a few old acquaintances you hoped would be willing to offer him patronage if they saw his work, but that was a few years off and for now, you were just content to provide him with kind words and support.

He doesn’t ask if you’d like to have a look, just shuffles the book over into your lap with a shy look away, not wanting to see your reaction. They’re beautiful little drawings of the world around him. The daisies in the grass, the leaves on the ground, the nearly bare trees. A few sketches of the other children playing. Each has careful line strokes, hashing to shade and a style to them that gives them an almost classical look. Smooth, soft. 

“These are beautiful, Jerome! You really have a gift!” You praise him, carefully handing the book back for him to return to his sketching. The two of you fall into companionable silence as he draws and you watch the children around you. 

It is when you go to ring the bell to draw them back into class with a ‘Lunch is over, boys and girls! Time to get back to work!’, that you notice a crowd gathering quite a distance away from the school underneath some trees. With a quick request that Jerome keep an eye on the younger children, you stride your way over, hands lifting your skirt from the dirt. 

“What’s going on? David, why are you all…” You trail off as you look up to see the exact reason they’re all crowding beneath the tall oak tree. 

Lilly-Anne is shaking at the very top, arms wrapped tightly around the branch she’d managed to make it to. The girl is barely ten, and has always been one of your more adventurous and confident children, but in that moment she is clearly petrified and you very much consider climbing the tree yourself to get her. 

“Lilly-Anne, dear, are you stuck?” You can’t think of a possible reason but that fact, that she is stuck in some way whether mental or physical. 

“I-I-I I can’t get down! I-” She cuts herself off in panic, clinging even tighter to the branch as a brisk wind causes the smaller branches to shake. 

“I’m coming to get you! Don’t worry, sweetheart! It’s going to be okay!” You say, sounding much more confident than you actually are about your ability to climb a thirty foot tall oak tree in a dress and heeled boots. You haven’t climbed a tree since you were thirteen years old and have never been a particularly fan of heights, but needs must. 

You’re planting a foot on a knot in the tree and reaching up for a lower branch when spurs clink behind you and a familiar deep drawl sounds out from behind you. 

“Everything alright, Miss Y/N?” You’re in truth rather relieved when you turn to see Din standing there, thumbs tucked into his belt behind the buckle. The worn hat he never seems to be without is tilted back as he looks over you, your gaggle of children and up into the tree. The bemused expression turns to one of concern when he sees Lilly-Anne at the top, immediately pulling his hat and holsters off and placing them on the ground. 

Before you can even reply to his question he has gentle hands on your waist twisting you away from the tree before placing a boot in the same spot your foot was moments ago. It doesn’t irritate you that he has done all this without asking, instead you are relieved. You know you are not dressed for tree climbing nor are you proficient at it, Din is better suited for the task and you are glad that he is here. 

“Lilly-Anne, Ad’ika, it’s the sheriff! I’m coming to get you, little one, don’t you worry about a thing!”  He keeps his voice even, soothing, the same voice he uses whenever Grogu has a nightmare. She might be feet up in the air but even from down at the base of the tree he can see how scared she is, can hear her whimpering and crying out for someone to come help her. Like any scared little kid.

He’s not really thinking much of anything, in truth, not when he sees the little girl terrified and crying at the top of the tall tree. There’s a memory from his past, a small boy at the top of a large tree, his adopted father climbing to get him with gentle words. He remembers the fear of being at the top, of being so confident in your ability to get all the way up that you never considered just how you’d make your way back down. 

He’s not scared of heights, not anymore. His adoptive father had made sure of that. Taught him to climb right back down, how to face that fear that makes you freeze. It’s not a hard climb, and each foothold is easy to find. The tree is sturdy, thick branches and a wide trunk. Old, older than him, older than any of them and he wonders how many children have climbed it only to need a guardian or parent to come and rescue them from the top. 

“It’s alright, little one! I’m on my way, you just hang tight, okay?”

“O-o-okay…” He likes Lilly-Anne, she likes his adventure stories the most. The little wild card a born adventurer herself, she always talks about becoming a famous gunslinger, constantly badgering him to teach her how to shoot. Adventurous spirit, stubborn, but he’s never seen her scared of anything. It breaks Din’s heart to see her usual confidence and fearlessness missing. 

You’re worried. That’s the best way to describe what you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach and it’s nail biting, stomach churning worry. A part of you knows that Din is competent in a million different ways, that he’ll be fine climbing a tree that a ten year old managed to scale and that he’ll be fine bringing her back down. Another part of you worries that maybe he’ll slip or she’ll slip or both of them will slip. The thought of either of them getting hurt sends you into a pacing sort of panic at the bottom of the tree, eyes on them the whole time, watching Din scale as your feet move you back and forth, to and fro. 

He’s at the top before you can even blink, bracing himself besides her and talking to her low enough that you can’t hear. She’s shaking and you’re not sure if it is the wind or the fear that does it to her. He’s steady as a rock, it doesn’t surprise you, Din has, from the moment he walked into town, been steady, stable, and competent. He brings an ease to everything he does and seems to trust in his own skills beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“Hey, Ad’ika, I’m right here, okay? Look at me…” He knows this is the hard part, how to convince her to come down even with his help. She is so scared and he can now finally see the tear tracks over her chubby cheeks and the redness of her eyes. This little girl is so terribly scared and it makes his heart ache for her. But, he promises himself, that he’ll be the stable presence she needs, that he’ll be calm and collected for her even with a thirty foot drop beneath them and you pacing the ground below in worry. 

Lilly-Anne’s bottom lip is trembling and her knuckles are white from holding on so tight, but she looks at him and seems to calm a little at his presence beside her. “I need you to hold onto me okay, sweetheart? I’m going to come closer and I need you to hold onto me so I can help you down, okay?” He knows it’s a big ask, knowing she’d have to pull herself away from the safety of the branch and trust that he’d keep her safe and secure, but she nods her head at him with a little whimper and he knows she’s brave enough to do this. 

“You’re doing so well, Ad’ika.” Din praises her as he sidles as close as he can, helping her, with one arm, wrap her own around his neck and rest her legs around his hips. She’s a little big to be carried normally, getting to that age where her legs are getting a little too long and her body doesn’t fit as easily as Grogu’s would against his hip, but she’s light and easy to wrap around him as he secures his own feet and hands getting ready to make the climb down. 

“You got all the way up here, Lilly-Anne, you can get back down, okay? Look,” Din begins the climb down, at each handhold and foot placement he points out to her that she could grab here or step there. He wants her to understand that if she could get all the way up, she could have made her way down. While he’s more than happy to help her, he knows her. She is an adventurous child, likely to climb a tree again and likely to need to make her way back down. Just like his buir had done, he was determined to make sure she was never scared of getting back down again. “You just need to place your hands where they fit best, move them down with you, a step at a time, Ad’ika. A step at a time.”

“It’s...it’s scary though…”

“I’ll let you in on a lil’ secret…” He turns his head to give her a meaningful look with a soft smile, stopping where he is just for a moment, “it’s not being scared that matters, it’s being brave enough to do it anyway.” 

People think him fearless. The fearless sheriff, cleaning up the town, keeping people safe, facing down men with guns and hunting down criminals. He’s not. He’s scared of a lot of things, mostly Grogu, you or the other little ones getting hurt. Losing you from his life. Losing his son. Being a disappointment to his son. That scares him more than any threat to his own body, but still in the face of that fear he is brave. Bravery has never been the absence of fear, it’s doing what you need to do anyway, knowing that it terrifies you. His buir had taught him that and he’d teach Lilly-Anne that, teach Grogu that. 

As he continues down the tree he can see her process his words. Brain working hard behind big blue eyes before she tugs on the back of his shirt to stop him where he is. Once again he stops climbing. You’re still pacing below, every time they stop you grow more anxious wondering what on earth could be happening. Did Din lose his footing? Was he faltering in some way? Was Lilly-Anne panicking? 

But, that isn’t the case. When he asks her what’s wrong, she simply tells him she wants to try and climb down on her own, with his help. He can feel pride blooming in his chest, like a new bud opening up to the world in spring, and so he carefully helps her off of his hip and adjusts her footing and handholds before he moves below her so he can help her ease her way down and catch her if she slips. 

She takes those first steps backwards, tentatively, scared of where she should put her feet, but each step after becomes more confident until they’re climbing at a decent pace back down the tree. She is a natural climber.

“You’re doing so well, Lil’ika! I knew you could do it, darlin’.” Din’s voice is quiet but now half way down you can actually hear him speaking to her, little praises at every successful step, reminders of how brave she is, how good she is doing. It eases some of that panic within you, warms your chest at the sounds of him, so utterly paternal and kind. 

She is smiling wider as she gets nearer to the bottom, you can see that the fear has left her, the panic gone, replaced with a bravery that you are thankful to see. She has always been a brave child, an adventurous child, fearless. The thought that she would lose that had terrified you almost as much as the thought that she was stuck at the top of that tree. 

The moment her feet touch the ground again you are fussing over her like a mother hen, “Lilly-Anne, what possessed you to climb such a tall tree?!” You both do not want to stifle her adventurous spirit and at the same time feel a sense of responsibility to teach her to think before taking potentially dangerous actions. It is the one cruelty of being a teacher and not a friend, you must always tell them off for doing something which could have ended with them hurt because no one else would. “You could have been hurt, sweetheart.” You soften the blow with the endearment, checking her over for cuts and bruises. Her hands are a little rough, but otherwise she is fine and despite your fussing and admonishment she is still smiling. 

“I got back down, Miss Y/N! I got back down!” You sigh out from your place kneeling in front of her, a small smile making its way to your face. Before you tug lightly at one of the blonde braids of her hair. You want to be stern, but can’t find it in yourself to be when she had in fact managed to get all the way back down, when she was so clearly proud of herself. How could you bring yourself to crush that happiness? 

“Yes, yes, you did, well done, sweet girl...now that you’ve nearly given me a heart attack, why don’t you thank the sheriff and go get sorted for your next lesson?” You can still feel the residual adrenaline running through you, your heart is still beating faster than it should. To think you were going to climb up that tree to get her, in a full dress and heeled boots...you suspected the outcome would have been the two of you stuck up that tree, not just one. What a sight that would have made. 

“Thank you, Sheriff Djarin!” He’s buckling his holster on as she turns to him, already getting back into sheriff mode as he places that worn hat over dark brown curls. He cuts an impressive figure as sheriff, but you most enjoy him at his softest, when he lets the walls fall for the children and shows you who he really is underneath all that responsibility and posturing. 

“You’re welcome, Ad’ika, you remember how to get down for next time?” 

“Uh huh!” Like all children she nods her head so vigorously you briefly worry she’ll concuss herself, but know that they always seem to be fine afterwards.

“Good. Go get ready for your lesson.” He pats the top of her head with a soft smile. You only ever see that smile around you and the children, including Grogu, of course. The two of you watch her run off, the other children in the group following her at your insistence that they better be ready at the desks by the time you return. 

You know you need to move soon, they are waiting for their next set of lessons before the day ends and you have things to teach them. Things you always stress are important. But, you can’t ever resist spending a little more time with Din, even more so when it comes to thanking him for his hand in helping you with the children. He is always there when you need him, when his support or involvement is required. 

“Thank you, Din...I...I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t turned up. I’m sure we both would have been stuck up there if I’d tried to get her…” There’s something about being alone with Din that excites you more than it should. Perhaps, it’s the reminder that you’re an unmarried woman, he’s an unmarried man, and the two of you certainly shouldn’t be spending time alone together away from other people’s eyes. There is no one here to watch you, to ensure everything is polite and appropriate. It shouldn’t mean more than it does. It should just be a moment to thank him, something simple, devoid of any deep feelings, but like everything that happens with Din, there is always more going on beneath the surface. Your feelings are always deep and hard to understand with him. 

“Cabur’ika. You never have to thank me. For anything.” He’s almost bashful looking when he smiles at you from under the brim of his hat, face tilted down just so. You can see the hint of a flush to his tanned cheeks and the dimples pull at the sides of his mouth when he smiles.

“Yes...yes I do. I hope you...I hope you understand just how much I appreciate your help, Din. You...you do more for me than anyone else in this town and,” You gently reach for one of his large hands, holding it between the two of your own. His fingers are calloused and rough, his skin warm to the touch even in the autumn air. “I really do appreciate it. I appreciate you. So thank you.” 

He’s at a loss for words. Not just because of your own sweet ones, but because your eyes are so soft and large, staring up at him like he’s hung the moon, like he’s done something above and beyond. When in truth he has just done his job, the right thing. Supporting you as the school teacher will always be the right thing and certainly it isn’t all duty. He finds you to be beautiful, sweet and soft, kind, yet strong and fierce. Your treatment of his son, his Grogu warms his heart. Your deep love for your children makes him want to sigh like a lovesick school boy and your treatment of him, your acceptance, open arms to a man who should scare you, makes him want to be around you all the more. From the moment he met you, you had been welcoming and soft. That hadn’t changed and everything in him screams at him to do something, say something, hold your hand tighter, kiss your lips, but that’s too fast and too soon. It would be a dishonour to you, you deserved him taking his time, finding the right words and actions to court you, to prove that he was worthy of your time and affection. 

So instead he just smiles at you, squeezes your hands tightly, once, twice, before thanking you. There are few parting words, a slow goodbye in which you both are reluctant to pull away from each other, but a call from the schoolhouse porch draws you away from him with a sad little smile. 

His chest hurts so badly that he rubs at it with a palm. The hurt is a good sort though. Not the blistering pain of a gunshot wound or slash from a knife, but the ache of...of love. That’s what it is, he has to admit it to himself, it’s love. New and small, growing larger each day, but love.

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

Mando’a Translations:

Ad’ika - Little one

Lil’ika - Basically little Lily. The ‘ika is a diminutive suffix and often you take the first 3 words of a child's name like Gro’ika to make a familiar name. 

Cabur’ika - Lit. Little Guardian, but Din’s term of endearment for reader after ‘Never Mess With a School Teacher’ because she is a true guardian of her kids. 

Buir - Mother/Father/Parent

[starryeyes2000]

An Unexpected Love - Part 6

Part 5

Second story in the Very Long Distance series.

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Can there be a future for an Earth-based civilian and a Starfleet Captain?

ooooo

The next morning Lilly, citing a need to catchup work after her illness, asks for a raincheck adroitly sparing Chris from conducting the bridge visit inartfully arranged by Sarah. Having always carefully kept his professional and personal lives separated, he quickly and gratefully accepts.

Within an hour his relief morphs into disappointment. A wasted opportunity, he thinks. With a few clever additions to the tour such as stellarcartography and the alternate bridge, I could have spent the entire morning with her rather than sitting alone in my ready room. Our time together is bookended by practicality and limited. No minute of it should be needlessly squandered.

Sighing his thoughts drift to last night’s dinner. And Bob’s chief of staff Mark. Or rather Mark’s focus on and attentiveness to Lilly. Annoyance flashes. Chris stands and paces the room.

Am I jealous?

Of course not. Jealousy is immature and a waste of time. We spent one night together, a very, very good night, but it’s not like we are …

Be honest.

Okay. Not jealous. Possessive? No.

Be honest.

Not exactly …

I want to be the sole focus of her attentions. Of her desires.

Truth acknowledged Chris smiles. I have a date to plan … one that will eclipse all previous dates … bad and good.

ooooo

I should have gone through with the tour, Lilly thinks as she checks her appearance. Perceiving herself as plain, she is disappointed further in the tired eyes and pale skin reflected back, both an unwelcome reminder she is still recovering from warp sickness. For once she misses her too rosy cheeks. Maybe spending the morning with him would have avoided the butterflies in my stomach now … or not. Admit it, you like him … a lot … The chime interrupts her internal dialogue.

When she answers the door, Chris’ dimpled grin disarms heightening her nervousness. He indulges for a moment, noting that the soft shirt and black pants she is wearing hug and accentuate her curves, that the dark blue color of the shirt deepens her pretty grey eyes. He reaches out and settles a hand against the curve of her face. “You are beautiful.”

Pulled back from noticing how Chris’ tailored black V-neck shirt flatters not only the greying at his temples but also his well-developed arms and chest reminding he is an accomplished track and field athlete, Lilly blushes and murmurs, “Thank you.” From him that compliment feels authentic rather than perfunctory. His remark and that thought envelops her in a warm feeling.

But nervousness creeps back and Lilly rambles, “I hope this is okay, you said to dress for a picnic, but I can’t imagine where on a starship you go for a picnic, maybe there’s an observation lounge? Or a little used science lab? It has intrigued me all day … Sorry, there I go again, talking aimlessly. Wait, why are you carrying a sweater that is clearly too small for you?”

“Ah, maybe I can come in?”

Lilly grimaces with slight head shake. “Of course. Sorry.”

Once inside Chris circles his arms around her waist. “No more apologies. You’ve used your quota for the evening.” He leans down for a kiss.

“What if one is needed?”

As their lips are about to meet he whispers, “We’ll find other ways for you to make it up to me …” Straightening he adds, “The sweater is contingency planning as I am aware of your penchant for summer clothes when more warmth is needed.”

Lilly smiles at the memory. A chance encounter ending with a walk in the park on a chilly spring night. She in a sleeveless dress. And Chris scolding for her not having a coat before wrapping his own around her shoulders. She plucks at her lightweight shirt. “You said dress for a picnic.”

“An autumn picnic,” he corrects.

“But this is a starship, the temperature is constant,” she protests.

His dimpled smile returns. “No, not everywhere.” Taking her hand in his he says, “Shall we?”

Once in the corridor Chris releases her hand and they walk side by side without out conversation. After a turbolift ride and a lengthy stroll he places a hand on the small of her back and guides her into a large bay.

“Wow,” Lilly exclaims as she halts. Her head turns taking each detail. Walking to a pine tree twice Chris’ height she rubs her hand over the bark and remarks in disbelief, “It’s real.”

Chris’ expression is that of a proud parent. “Yes.” He crooks his arm which Lilly accepts, draping one arm through and placing her other hand near Chris’ wrist. Leaving the pine trees they move through a small copse of aspens. The bright yellow leaves quake as they walk by.

“They’re beautiful. Is this a genetically modified species with golden leaves?” Lilly asks as they pass the last aspen tree.

“Yes and no.”

“This is a perfect spot for a picnic,” Lilly says tugging Chris back to the aspen grove.

“Hmmm, perhaps. I chose a different one,” Chris replies as he nudges her forward. They enter another micro section.

Lilly inhales appreciatively and her mouth curves into a beaming smile at the sight of sugar maples, oak trees, and smaller Japanese maples crowned in orange and red. Blankets are spread on the ground and dotted with large pillows. She shivers and rubs her arms.

Chris hands her the sweater. “In here it’s autumn.”

“Perfect fit,” she says. “How?”

“I guessed. And I have a good memory.”

“That’s not the question I was …” she halts realizing from Chris’ amused expression he understands exactly what her question actually referred to. “Do you use stasis fields … are the leaves always at this stage …” She stops and sniffs. “Crisp air, chilly temperature … it feels like fall. Damp leaves … and earthy truffles … and woodsmoke … it even smells like fall … how is that possible?”

Chris settles her on the ground and sits by her side. “You ask as many questions as my science officer.

“Sitting here,” her hand pats the grass, real grass! she thinks before continuing, “It’s easy to forget we are streaking through space in a starship. Well done, Captain.”

He flashes a sideways smile. Then busies himself opening a bottle of wine deflecting her attention from the slight flush in his cheeks. Handing Lilly a glass he explains, “The leaves will eventually fall, and the trees will rebud in the spring. Here raking leaves is a highly sought-after privilege rather than a chore.” Chris chuckles, “It typically turns into a rowdy party. But I pretend not to notice.”

“Spring? I don’t understand. You compel the trees to bud like forcing flower bulbs in a pot?”

“Not exactly. This is one of five agricultural bays on board. One is devoted to growing food hydroponically. The others to environments native for species on board; artic like Andoria, tropics for the reptilians, and this,” Chris sweeps his arm, “mimics the four seasons of Earth over the course of a standard year. No forcing, the trees bud, the flowers bloom, and the plants fruit according to their natural rhythm.”

“An indulgence?”

“Yes and no. Constitution class heavy cruisers, of which Enterprise was the first, can operate independently for up to five years without resupply. Though we haven’t stayed out that long yet. During her first missions under Bob April we learned there are micronutrients in soils which cannot be successfully replicated and the scant gases in atmospheres are necessary. Their absence effects the health and well-being of the crew. During the last retro fit we addressed that problem. In each of these targeted landscapes the atmosphere is not the composite ‘safe for all’ air piped through the ship, but native mixtures. And enough fruits and vegetables are grown in the indigenous soils to address any nutrient imbalance.” Chris cups her chin. They kiss. “And it’s a popular date night spot. Last year one of the Aldabrans miscalculated her fertility cycle and we housed the resultant baby turtles in the tropical bay. I suddenly had twenty godchildren.”

Lilly smiles, “You deal with an interesting mix of problems.”

Chris returns the smile. It fades when he remembers Enterprise’s upcoming schedule. Next year the ship and its crew will leave known Federation space for the first true five-year mission in Starfleet’s history.

Unsure why Chris’ eyes held a distant sad look, Lilly places her hand on his arm coaxing his attention back.

Pushing down feelings he wasn’t ready to acknowledge, Chris says in order to lighten his mood, “Charged with erasing your bad date history, I had to go big.” He leans against one of the trees and opens his arms. Lilly nestles into them laying her head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist. The rapport they experienced that first night in her apartment returns and they talk as if they have been a couple for decades.

As the light slowly fades mimicking twilight, holographic lanterns and candles wink into existence casting their warm glow. Chris delicately runs his fingers through Lilly’s long brown hair. “In the sun, I see strands of sunlight and amber and caramel in your hair. Now it’s chocolate and dark strawberries. The myriad of changing tones reminds me of the varied colors in space.” He grimaces, crinkling his nose and the corners of his eyes. “Which is a compliment; sorry, romance is not natural for me.”

Lilly sits up, placing her hand on Chris’ chest and gazing into his eyes. “I disagree.”

I cannot remember the last time I blushed … until tonight … twice now, Chris thinks. He asks, “Dinner?”

Crossing her legs in a yoga pose and leaning forward towards the basket she replies eagerly, “Yes please.”

A thermos contains squash soup. Lilly is about to dip a spoon in her bowl when Chris waves her off. “I have very precise instructions from Enterprise’s chef to dress the soup with crème fraiche, chives, pepper, and olive oil. If I don’t, he will restrict me to replicated coffee for the next month. And trust me, he knows everything.”

“Exactly who runs this ship?” Lilly inquires with a grin.

“He does. As does every other chef and sous chef in the fleet. Along with the XOs and Yeomen.”

“And they …”

“Trot me out when an authority figure is required,” Chris finishes with a snort.

“That must put a dent in your ego,” Lilly teases.

He shakes his head and replies in a serious tone, “If I do my job right, my crew functions as well without me as with me.”

“I see,” Lilly says. She thinks, And I’d wager none wish to do without you.

Chris hands her a plate. She bites into the sandwich it holds. “Baguette, tomato jam, olive oil, arugula, truffles, butter, and … Pavé d'Affinois. Perfect. How did you know I prefer the milder triple cream to Brie?”

“Your brother offered a few tips,” he concedes.

“Oh.” Lilly’s tone is hesitant. “You talked with my brother again?”

“Several times, keeping him updated on your progress. He’s formidable, I like him. Grilled me like a concerned father, even asked about my prospects.” Chris chuckles. “Despite the stripes on my sleeve. I felt like a cadet again.”

She groans. “He’s younger than me yet acts like the older sibling. What else did he tell you?”

“That will remain between he and I.”

Lilly examines Chris through squinted eyes. “Anything I can say or do to change your mind?”

“Nope.”

“I suspect this is not going to work out well for me.”

His answer is an enigmatic expression. Then he holds out his hand in an invitation. “Join me.” A moment later Lilly is cradled in his arms, her back pressed against his chest, her legs nestled between his. He whispers in her ear, “I planned a little meteor shower for later. After I impress you with my knowledge of the northern hemisphere’s night sky.”

Lilly tilts her head up. She says in a tone telegraphing delight, “We’re going to stargaze? On a starship? And you claim not to be a romantic.”

Chris kisses her forehead.

In what feels like a minute later, he wakes up in Sickbay, lying on a biobed, Lilly hovering over him with a concerned expression. Noticing he is conscious she says in a quiet unhappy tone, “I warned you my dates always end badly.”

[melyaliz]

Remember Me 11

Master List

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x OC

Notes: Been trying to get more writing in. Pushing myself to be creative again because I feel like this energy is getting pent up and needs to go somewhere.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest / Newsletter

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Check out my published work.

--------Olive---------

“Eliott the craziest thing happened to me today!” Her boyfriend looked up from his computer where he was editing photos he had taken the week prior. Flopped down on the couch dramatically down next to him, Olive kissed him quickly before continuing with the craziest thing ever.

“So you know how I was writing short stories online? Well, some dude asked me to ghostwrite for them.”

Eliott moved his laptop away so he could focus on Olive, “no way, that’s great! Wait, is he paying you?”

“Yeah, it’s not a ton but it’s a start.” Olive glanced down at her phone again reading over the person’s suggestions again, “Maybe I could make a little extra from this? Could be really fun to actually make money from my writing.”

“Yeah I mean if it makes you happy do it,” Eliott said, getting up from the couch walking toward their small kitchen where dinner was slowly simmering on the stove. “But also, come try this sauce I made.”

Getting up to follow her boyfriend Olive took the spoon he was  holding out, “Oh that’s good.” she hummed approvingly

“I know right?”

“I need to wife you up so you can cook like this all the time,” Olive said putting the spoon back in the pot.

“I will only say yes to a princess cut,” Eliott teased stirring the pot a few times before putting the lid back on. “Are you done getting story propositions? Want to watch a movie?”

“Let’s do a movie.”

“Roadhouse?”

“Pain don’t hurt”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“So the police had been keeping an eye on airlines out of Tokyo but for American passports but we haven’t found anyone who matches the description the robbers gave us” Kirishima sighed, rubbing his forehead as Bakugou growled and threw the reports on his assistant’s desk. His poor assistant quickly gathered up the paperwork putting it back in order. After working for Bakugou for this long she knew better than to leave any mess

“The police are useless! They can’t find one guy”

“I guess it could be possible this guy is erasing the memories of the people who see him.” Kirishima offered as Bakugou grabbed his gauntlets getting ready for patrol.

“He’s such a coward, just face me like a man!” Bakuogu snapped at no one in particular, feeling his hands growing more sweaty at his anger. The feeling of Olive sobbing on his chest from a week ago still so fresh in his memory. Luckily for him - and her - it was as if she had gotten it all out. Since that night she had started finding a routine. She had started writing again and yesterday he even caught her smiling at her screen laughing to herself over some crazy plot idea she was coming up with. The sight had been such a beautiful one Bakugou had been scared to move in case he broke the spell.

That morning after Bakugou had made breakfast for them Olive had informed him that she was working on her unfinished story and planned to reach out to her editor that day. She even opened up about trying to figure out if it was better to continue on or start something new since she only had her outlines and notes to go off of. She had looked so determined and happy it was as if he had gotten the old Olive back.

While it was an improvement she still wasn’t his Olive yet and he wasn't going to settle until she was.

As they walked down the streets he could hear people getting excited to see the number 1 hero walking the streets next to the number 5. Kirishima had his own very loyal fan base that Olive had started to call his Shimanights. It also helped that Kirishima was basically the top hero who was still single.

Lots of girls flocked to them asking for pictures. Bakugou hated this part of the job. It had only been recently that he had actually started letting them shoot pictures of him. Before he would just ignore the cries of fans continuing to walk by.

Although today he was a bit on edge.

Or more than normal.

“You know,” Kirishima said, walking up behind Bakugou after snapping a few pictures with some high school girls. “I know you are dealing with a lot with Olive’s emotions and stuff but… Do you remember that time you were tracking that villain and disappeared in the mountains for over a week?

“Yeah, why?”

“You were engaged to Olive at the time and she had just officially moved here to Japan.” Kirishima sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. That week had been the longest week in his and Olive’s life. “When I went to go tell her what had happened I thought she was going to pass out. She kept saying you couldn’t die over and over again. I just” he paused again trying to find the right words.

“I know she’s upset about Eliott right now” Kirishima continued, “but she does love you just as much. How she’s acting now, is like how she was when you were gone.” Kirishima concluded. He knew when Bakugou had found out Olive had been married before the blonde had been upset. As if he was the second all over again. While it hadn’t stopped him in the long run, there was always these remnants of a scar that you can only see if you really look. That Bakugou was worried he would always be second in Olive’s life.

Bakugou looked away, lost in his own memories of that week. Coming back and seeing her in the hospital waiting for him. Her large hazel eyes filled with tears trying so hard not to cry. He had pulled her into his arms much like he had last night. She had told him over and over he couldn’t leave her. It was the only time she had ever said that. Olive had known that him being a hero was the most important thing to him and she never tried to get in his way.

But that night she wouldn’t leave his side. Holding onto him as if he would turn into dust and blow away if she so much as loosened her grip.

That had been over 2 years ago and he hadn’t thought about that in so long. It had never occurred to him that she had thought he may have been killed. Suddenly everything seemed to have a different hue on the past few weeks. As if he was seeing it all through different eyes.

“I guess” was Bakugou’s simple response as he continued walking down the street.

Suddenly all he wanted was to go home and see her. Remind her he would never leave her, he would never make her feel this way because of him.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Oive was deep in stories. Piecing them together was like a puzzle. Part of it felt like an old mussel she hadn’t worked out in a while. A bit stiff but it felt great. Getting back into the swing of things, coming up with ideas and planning stuff. Her editor had suggested she maybe look into a new idea or maybe something she had put away for a long time instead of jumping into the story she had been working on.

So laying on the floor of the living room that was exactly what she was doing. She had this one idea about a modern Esther story except for the king she has to marry is a Dragon king and she’s a unicorn only he doesn’t know that. She already had so many spicey ideas and the secret unicorn idea just had this… hidden comedy that made her smile.

A ping on her phone cut her off from her writing making her look down.

Lily: ‘Look what came up on my timeline.

As if on cue text opened up in Olive’s group chat from Lily. It was an image of Olive holding a little baby wrapped in a pink blanket. Leaning over Olive’s shoulder was Bakugou looking down at the small baby. His normally harsh features were much softer.

Lily: “That was when your goddaughter was born”

Clare instantly replied to another image, This one of Olive hanging off of Bakugo’s arm which he was flexing. That ‘I’m not annoyed but I’m trying to look it ’ scowl on his face that she was starting to realize was a signature of his.

The picture was followed up by a video from the same night. Bakugou was lifting up his arm as Olive hung on. Her body slowly lifting off the ground as she clung to his bicep. Giggling so hard she almost slipped several times.

“Stop laughing or you are going to lose your grip.” Bakugou’s voice said from the video as he watched her struggle to pull her legs up to her chest further off the ground.

“I can’t believe he’s doing that,” Clare’s voice said behind the camera

“He’s so proud of himself, show off” Lily laughed as the camera zoomed in on Bakugou’s face as he smiled down at Olive who was looking up at him still laughing.

“You are going to fall” he chastised

“I’m not!”

As if on cue her grip slipped, or maybe it had been her powers. Olive’s ass was suddenly on the floor, looking up at Bakugou blinking in shock.

“I told you, idiot,” Bakugou said, shaking his head, no real bite behind his voice.

Lily: ‘Pretty sure this one is Nate’s fav’

Another video popped up. Bakugou looking totally put out sitting on a white couch, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m serious, why would you make me watch this utter horse shit! Vampires don’t bounce like that and what even was that robot?” Bakugou was yelling at an Olive who was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. The camera was pretty shaky; it was clear Lily was laughing as well.

“Katsuki is mad at us for showing him Robo Vampire.” Lilly’s voice narrated.

“More like mad at Olive, we are just enjoying the show” Nate, Lily’s husband said as the camera turned to him for a , an amused smile on his face.

“Oh my… I can’t stop… breath” Olive gasped from the seat next to Bakugou as he continued to rant at her.

“Seriously, how do you people enjoy that? What is actually wrong with you?”

“But look at how much fun we are having now,” she giggled, leaning forward a huge smile on her face. He studied her for a moment before pushing her face back, rolling his eyes. But there was just a hint of a smile on his scowling face. It was an impressive feat that only Bakugou could pull off.

Clare : This one is my favorite video.

It was a link to a youtube video of Olive sitting in the office of their apartment. She recognized her pink chair and pictures behind her.

In the video, she was answering some of her fan’s questions. Everything from what books inspired her at the moment, to her favorite drink to… her second marriage.

Past Olive had chuckled looking at the question for a moment before looking back up at the camera. Her eyes lighting up slightly, it was clear that whatever the question said sparked a deep joy inside that woman on the other side of the camera.

“So yes, as many of you have realized by now I am in a relationship with Hero DynaMight, Katsuki Bakugou. We met when he was in the US and have been together for over a year.” she paused the diamond on her hand catching the light as she ran her fingers through the turquoise and blue hair she now had. The one constant in her life, the ever-changing shades of her hair.

“So I know when Eliott died three years ago I had said I had gotten the love of my life and I didn’t think I could ever find another like that and I was at peace with it.” she bit her lip eyes darting off-screen for a moment trying to find the right words. “And I meant it. But… Katsuki just kind of came into my life and gave me something totally new.”

Past Olive laughed lightly for a moment at some memory that Present Olive wished she could remember. It looked like a happy one.

“They are two totally different people and there is no way to compare them. Eliott was this calm funny guy who taught me how to be comfortable in my own skin. He encouraged me to do what made me happy. Katsuki…” she paused a soft smile playing on her lips, her eyes lighting up at the memories.

“Katsuki showed me that second life keeps going and that nothing is impossible. That there is such a thing as a second chance. He…” she laughed, her hand covering her mouth for a moment that beautiful diamond that present Olive was still not used to, glinted in the light as if laughing with her, “He inspires me every day and has given me so much hope in the future.”

Olive couldn’t take her eyes off the girl on the screen. It was like seeing yourself in a fun mirror. Someone you didn’t recognize but your brain told you was you. That this woman who was smiling and so in love was the same girl as Olive. That this life this woman was talking about was hers.

As past Olive moved on to the next question - something about her upcoming book - Present Olive was caught up in her own thoughts. It wasn’t unbelievable that she could have been that happy and inlove with Bakugou. In fact she felt herself slowly falling for him more and more each day.

The door to their apartment opened, making Olive look up a huge smile on her face as the man from the videos was walking into the living room where she was sitting. When he saw her smiling face he paused, studying her. As if unsure what to do with her happiness.

Made sense. Poor guy.

“How was work?” she asked

“Fine,” was his simple reply as he took a seat on the couch. She scooted over so she could look up at him from her spot on the floor.

“So I have been thinking…” she said, scooting closer to him. He watched her, unsure how to react to this shift in her emotion. It was different from her normal forced happy, almost as if the old Olive was slowly peeking through the cracks. “Since I can’t remember anything you could basically take me to all my favorite places and it would be a new experience.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So do you have dinner plans?”

“No” He didn’t bother to point out that his plans were to eat with her because obviously, she was getting to a point.

She gently placed her hand on his knee sending shivers up his spine. The whole, touch-starved thing getting worse by the day. Suddenly he didn’t want to have dinner plans. He wanted to take her in his arms and eat her out instead.

“So what sorts of places would we go to eat? Besides that Ramen place you took me.”

“Normally I would cook but if you want to go out we can go get street food. You were obsessed with it.”

Her eyes grew wide leaning forward getting up onto her knees so she was now leaning over his legs excitedly. The position was not helping the subtle throbbing that was going on in Bakugou’s pants. His face flushed slightly as he tried to keep his composure.

“Oh that sounds like so much fun!”

“Ok let me shower and we can go.”

And it was fun. Olive practiced her Japanese ordering so much food Bakugou felt like he would never need to eat again. They even did some shopping which resulted in a new floppy sun hat that Olive kept moving her head to make flop around, that large smile that had been on her face in the apartment never leaving.

Several hours later and a cone of ice cream each they headed back to their apartment.

“Honestly, I don’t get it,” Olive said, turning to him, “I know we have touched on this topic a few times… but...”

“If you ask me again why we are together…”

“It’s just so weird.” she laughed nudging him with her arm leaning close her body pressed against his. “You’re like model hot and I’m like maybe a 5,” she said, pulling away, both of them feeling the loss of the other. “Number 1 Hero, beloved by all, super-rich,” she ticked off each reason as she spun away from him.

He reached out grabbing her arm causing her to stop, his callus hand enveloping her much smaller one. Her hazel eyes met his that mischievous look he had not seen in months. She used to give him so much shit, the old Olive never let him get away with anything.  Always laughing and joking about everything with a wit that could cut down even the most stoic of heroes.

Olive in turn felt like her feet had been melted into the concrete below her by the look her husband was giving her. So intense it felt like his red eyes were burning holes into her very soul. Peeling her raw down into someone else. The Olive she had seen on youtube video.

They stood there for a moment just looking at each other both totally lost in their own thoughts.

“Whatever we are ok!” he finally snapped, letting go of her hand breaking the tension that was as thick as the humidity of the summer night. Noticing a bit of ice cream on her nose, without thinking he brushed it away. “You also eat like a child.”

Giggling, she wiped the back of her face with her sleeve. Her cheeks flushing. “Yeah, yeah let’s just add it to the list of reasons why it’s weird you married me.”

“Oh shut up” he mumbled leaning forward kissing her, her lips were cold from the ice cream. She smiled against his lips deepening the kiss letting his tongue explore the cool sweet taste of her mouth.

Letting out a soft growl, Bakugou’s teeth dragged over her supple bottom lip. His free arm snaking around her waist pulling her closer so that she was flush against his body. He craved her more than anything else and even with them both fully clothed in the middle of a busy street he could only think about how badly he wanted her.

And then she sighed against his mouth and that was it.

“Let’s get back,” he said, looking down at her as she blinked up at him. His comment was more of a question than a statement. So much meaning laced behind those words. Thick and heavy “Please?”

She nodded softly, her large hat flopping with her. “ I would like to go back to our place. ”

His heart could have stopped in his chest. His whole body lighting up tingling at the tips. It was like when he blasted himself into the air. Light and weightless as if he could do anything. The feeling of the fire licking at his palms sending sparks running through his hand and up his fingers.

Grabbing her arm he started pulling her down the street only to pause to stop again to kiss her again before once again leading her towards their place.

Our place

She had called it our place.

- GET TAGGED -

Master List

Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm @sizzlingdonutturtlemuffin

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Reasons Doug’s Pretty Great

It’s hard to believe that it’s been nine years since the first episode of S1 was released. I can still remember be a wee little lass first discovering it on youtube and becoming obsessed. At the time, I had no where to play it myself, so I watched as many playthroughs as I could until my family got an xbox. 

While the first episode in this series has a lot of memorable moments, the one that always stands out in people’s memories is the moment where you’re trying to escape the drugstore as walkers pound away at the door and windows, and you realize that both Carley and Doug need your help or they’re going to die. 

But... you can only save one, and whoever you don’t help, they end up being eaten alive by walkers and you get to feel bad about it for the rest of the episode. 

I bring this up because it’s interesting to look back nine years ago and see that... well, not a lot of people saved Doug. Which is crazy, because now the stats are pretty 50/50 with Doug even having a bit of an edge over Carley. That definitely wasn’t the case back then because the stats were more along the line of 20/80.

Why? Well, the writer’s didn’t exactly do the best job of showing how great Doug is in ep1, especially compared to Carley who has more interactions with Lee and more screen time.... which is even funnier because they did actually think they did a good job and were surprised by the results after the episode’s release.

Even back then they had a habit of making imbalanced routes then denying the imbalance... something they never grew out of. 

I guess they were a little butthurt about it since Doug is a favorite among the team given that he’s actually based on a real person, Doug Tabacco, an IT guy they worked with. This got to the point where Telltale never missed an opportunity to tell everyone to #SaveDoug over Carley.

I also love that they use the Stranger to guilt trip everyone who saved Carley by having him be like, “Doug was in a worse position! >:( You only saved Carley because she was a pretty girl!!” just.... real subtle, guys haha

Now, I’ll be the first to admit that more often than not, I choose to save Carley over Doug for many reasons, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate Doug and enjoy having him around in the off chance I do save him. So I thought it’d be fun to talk about Doug as a character and why he was pretty great as a little tribute, y’know? 

5. Doug’s a pretty funny dude

Now, I wouldn’t exactly call twdg a comedy, y’know? It gets dark, then manages to get even darker at times, but if the game was nothing but doom and gloom, it’d get boring and become unenjoyable. 

While other characters do get a laugh out of me from time to time, I enjoy the humor that Doug brings to the group, even if it’s not intentional and just the way he is. 

Even from the beginning, Doug had me chuckling with the fact that this nerdy dude didn’t want to bring profanity to Lee’s ears when talking about Larry, so he’s just like “ He's kind of a dick... pardon my french,” like Doug.... it’s okay, you can call him an asshole, no one will judge hahaha.

Then there’s the biscuit scene that I think we all know and love. Helps break the tension of meeting these weirdo’s who own a dairy and are totally not suspicious or anything. 

But it’s not even just that Doug is funny, he’s also a character that gets you to crack a smile when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about, or when he’s proud of the alarm he rigged up, or when he’s being adorably awkward. 

One of my favorites is in ep3 when Lee goes to ask Doug if he has any chalk, and he goes into this spiel about charcoal-- “You know, a piece of charcoal is a suitable alternative, depending on your marking surface. Since we're on the subject, did you know that while chalk is traditionally known to be calcium carbonate, what's often used in classrooms is actually made of gypsum, thanks to favorable domestic mining conditions?”

And Lee’s response is just-- “Doug, I did not know that.”

“Happy to be of service.”

It’s just really funny... and it makes you feel better after all the implications about Doug’s mental health in the episode... like you gave him a moment to flex his knowledge and get excited about it. 

But yeah, what can I say? Doug makes me laugh and he brings a bit of light to the groups constant shitshow. 

4. Doug saved the group’s ass at the St John farm

And he did so with a laser pointer. 

I always hate it when Doug/Carley leave the group at the St Johns and remain absent for most of the episode, though I chalk that up to the writers trying to make the different routes easier on themselves, y’know? 

But, at least they come back to save the day. 

In Doug’s case, he’s not comfortable with guns like Carley is, so he’s gotta get creative when it comes to getting Lee’s attention and stopping Andy from hurting Duck and Lee. 

That’s where his fancy little laser pointer comes in. 

We first see him with it during the walk to the farm, but then see it in action after Lee escapes the barn and is nearly blinded by the light. Doug claims he was doing morse code before Lee tells him and Ben that these assholes cut off Mark’s legs and tried to feed them to the group. 

Now, here’s the thing... If Doug and Ben had done what they were told and stayed at the motor inn over night, things probably wouldn’t have turned out so good for the group. Doug is the one who shines the laser pointer in Andy’s eyes when he’s got ahold of Duck, giving Lee the advantage of attack. Without that, if Lee tried anything, he would’ve ended up like dingdong Kenny with a bullet in his side. 

Also there’s just a lot of bravery from Doug, y’know? Like as soon as he finds Lee and knows the situation, the first thing he asks is what can they do to help, and he sticks around to do what he can.... even if it is just to point a laser in someone’s eye. 

No one gives Doug enough credit for savin’ the day, y’know? And if you have any doubt, even Lee says, “I never thought a laser pointer would be the thing that saved our lives.”

3. Doug’s friendship with Lee

Speaking of Lee, his friendship with Doug is underrated. The two have chemistry and work off each other well in the scene’s they’re in. While it’s not as strong as Carley’s in ep1, saving Doug and having around in ep2 & ep3 lets you see it at it’s best, y’know? 

After Lee saves his life at the drugstore, Doug is shown to mourn Carley and asks Lee why he would pick him, lamenting that he wished he had picked her over him and you can tell that Doug feels that he owes Lee a lot for saving him. Hell, he even says as much when Lee tries to give him food in ep2-- “Why don't you keep my share today. I know I said it didn't matter why you saved me and not Carley, but... I owe you a lot more than half a day's rations."

Also, I love this one line from Kenny when you’re on bad terms with him and they’re talking about going separate ways where he’s basically like “We all know Doug’s gonna stay with you because you saved him that ONE time >:(” and on top of it being such a bitchy Kenny line, it also shows that every can see that Doug is a loyal friend to Lee and would want to stick with him where ever he decides to go. 

One thing that I think people tend to overlook, though, is how concerned Lee is with Doug’s mental health in ep3. There are implications that Doug might be suffering with depression due to the situation of the walkers, bandits harrassing and threatening them, and believing that he isn’t useful to the group, stating that he feel pretty worthless. Lee asks Clementine if he seems sad, and hell, he even talks to Lilly about it.

In fact, speaking of Clementine, Doug is real sweet with her, too. Of course, he gives her those batteries for her walkie, but he also asks about how she’s doing as they’re leaving the dairy. Hell, 8 years later, Clementine still remembers him by name and how sweet he was when fucking dingdong Lilly can’t remember his damn name. That says a lot. 

Y’all know how important Clementine is to Lee, so he wouldn’t have grown as close to Doug if he wasn’t a genuinely good person who treated Clementine with kindess. 

I dunno, there’s a lot of trust and care between the two and it’s a relationship that I truly love. I just wish we could’ve seen a bit more of it but y’know...#2 happened. 

2. Doug saved Ben’s life

Yeah, I think we all saw this coming...

Look, doesn’t matter what you think about Ben, okay? Not what we’re talkin’ about. We’re talkin’ about Doug saving Ben’s life, which unfortunately meant ending his own.

Still haven’t forgiven Lilly for this one. Though I’ve always found the difference between Doug and Carley’s death’s interesting. With Carley, Lilly intentionally kills her after Carley tells her off. But with Doug, Lilly was aiming for Ben and even when Doug pulled him out of the way, she still fired the gun... even though she didn’t have a clear shot and ended up hitting Doug. 

Then she tries to play it off like it was an accident which, yeah I guess it was but that doesn’t change that you were intending to murder this 6ft tall child. 

It’s just... I dunno, man, it’s sad. I always feel more sorrow for Doug’s death, but more anger for Carley’s? Even though both make me angry, it’s just different characters, different things that led to their deaths, different feelings. This is the first real “Fuck you, Lilly” moment for me and she can spend the next 8 years wandering around for all I can. 

Doug didn’t deserve this shit. 

But, the reason I put this at #2 because it really says a lot about Doug as a character. The second he saw Lilly aim that gun, he yanked Ben out of the way. He could’ve gone into shock, he could’ve just yelled “no!”, or he could’ve gone at Lilly instead.... but no, his first instinct was to grab Ben and move himself in front and it really fucking sucks that that’s what killed him. 

And y’know this isn’t the first time Doug has put himself in danger to save someone. I already talked about him saving everyone at the dairy, but can we not forget how he and Carley met? She was gonna get eaten by walkers then our big hero Doug came in and saved her?? Didn’t know her or anything, just saw her and her crew getting attacked and did what he could to save any survivors?? 

Like... no one talks about that because it’s so played off and never brought up again and I need everyone to remember this, okay? 

Doug selflessly putting himself in danger to help those around him? Fantastic. Beautiful. Love that.

1. Look, Doug himself is just #1. His personality, intelligence, everything.

Wow, Doug’s personality being the #1 reason he’s so great? Who woulda thought?

Well, ME woulda thought because obviously.

Listen... in case you haven’t gather this from the previous four entries, Doug is an intelligent, awkward, caring, selfless, funny, and brave man, okay? He’s likable, he tries his damnedest to pull his weight for the group, he shows actual loyalty and kindness unlike some people, and when he tends to avoid the constant Lilly and Kenny conflicts, he does his best to step in when things take a serious turn, hence the Ben situation. 

No to mention the dude is smart. 

I mean, he really took a random remote and was like, “Oh it’s universal, let me just program it to work on ALL the random TV’s across the street as a way to distract these walkers!” like dude.... you just know how to do that, huh? 

Or his fun little bell trap that alerts the groups of strangers and walkers? Oh, and remember when he fixed the RV by hitting it with a fucking hammer and was like “It works now, drive!” 

And have I mentioned that he bested Andy St John with a goddamn laser pointer?? 

Oh, also wanna add that I really like his voice acting, as well. He’s voiced by Sam Joan, who does a good job at selling Doug’s soft-spoken but intelligent nature, and knows how to pull off “dorky” when needed... and I mean that in a good way, when he’s talking about charcoal Doug is being a dork and I love him.

I mean... what else is there to say?

All that’s left to do is pull a Telltale and--

#SaveDoug

---

Honorable Mentions

-Doug is a pie guy, going off of that time he named all the different kinds of pie he could thing of and I feel that.  -He’s a very fashionable person. I want that weird polar bear deer thing shirt he wears in ep1.  -also, you can’t go wrong with socks and sandals, my dude.  -He had a crush on Carley and honestly, I feel that, too. 

---

There it is, there’s my whole thing about Doug. What are your thoughts? When it comes to that choice in ep1 of s1, do you save Doug or do you save Carley? Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

—

Next week’s T5F

[currebunz]

An Adventure’s Charts: Zhongli + Tea

AO3 Link

Six hours, that's how long Venti had told you Zhongli's tea would take. You helped him brew the tea, providing him with the leaves he had requested. It was supposed to be a luxurious blend suited for the finest of nobles in Liyue. And it would be if you had gotten the proper tea. However, the situation had provided you with the perfect opportunity to put the consultant for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor in the "mood". It wasn't that you could never get alone time with him like this, quite the opposite. Zhongli dedicated most of his time to making you feel like you were the most important person in the world. Because you were to him. Whether it be long walks down the streets of Liyue or a dinner he had made sure was paid for in advance, Zhongli never had to break plans with you. Of course, time in the bedroom was the same. All you had to do was call him or tell him your very desire. He would dutifully see to it that you were satisfied. The great Archon's skill exceeded simply wielding a polearm and left you tired by the time the sun was in the sky. And yet, you wanted to see how he would look when he was the one with overflowing desires. Those sharp eyes of his never told you what he was truly feeling.

The First Hour

"Hm? Have you already poured the water?" Zhongli asked as he noticed the kettle was gone. You were holding it securely, hoping he would stay away from the teapot. "Yep, leave it to me. I've seen you do it so many times now. I think I know how you like it" you smiled at him. Zhongli was quiet, but a graceful smile stretched across his face. "I see, I suppose you have a point. I must be careful if you are watching me so" he said with a chuckle. You set the kettle down, raising your brow at him. "And why do you say that?" you asked. You took a seat across from him at the small table in the room. Zhongli closed his eyes as if thinking carefully about his next words. But he was recalling his favorite memories of you, the times you spent together. His eyelids lifted and his eyes were shining with a soft light that nearly made you melt. "Because I wouldn't want you to see me at anything but my best," he said proudly. For a moment, you were touched. A hand was already over your heart as you took in his words. But then a playful grin slipped onto your lips.

"Then maybe you should forget your wallet less?"

The Second Hour

Zhongli had read to you the report he was given in regards to a Funeral he would be organizing. You always helped him prepare for it, as much as he would let you. Time and again, he reminded you that you didn't have to do work for the parlor was you were not employed there. But you had reassured him that you didn't mind and it gave you an excuse to spend more time with him. Hu Tao had also caught on to the few times you and Zhongli became "passionate" with your work. The master stated that you might as well work if you are going to play around in the parlor. You were just glad she let you back in. "Hm, we'll need more Glaze Lillies. I trust you will accompany me tonight to collect them?" Zhongli asked. "Of course, we can go after our tea" you agreed. Zhongli nodded, turning his report in his hands as he continued to tell you about the preparations needed. Hearing him talk so eloquently always made your mind wander off to the times he would lay with you and talk until you fell asleep. He would always ask you questions before telling you a story about Rex Lapis. As much as you wanted to stay awake, you always fell asleep hearing his soothing voice.

The Third Hour

Zhongli was looking over some papers while you were watering the plants around your shared home. Occasionally, he would bring home a new flower claiming it reminded him of you. A few times, you had to tell him he had brought back a vegetable or fruit. But he assured you it was on purpose and explained the many uses of the plant. You didn't have the heart to call him on his excuses, as you enjoyed watching the light dust of pink as he realized his mistake. "You see, I heard that you can make a good soup base with these chilis. Not only will you have a good meal, but we will also save money" he explained as if you didn't know. "Mmm, sure darling" you hummed as you watered your vegetables. If it weren't for you selling and giving away herbs, you'd have a full garden in your own house. The number of plants in your home a nice look, but Zhongli didn't only stop at plants. He occasionally brought back treasures and odd things as well. You had a nice collection of old relics and antiques he had acquired in the ruins during his exploration. From plates to hairpins, he would bring you back anything that he thought would put a glint in your eyes. "Do you like it?" Zhongli would ask. You would always stay quiet when he brought you back something. His eyes would slightly droop as he waited for your approval. Sometimes, you almost forgot to answer him.

"I love it"

The Forth Hour

You were sweeping outside and looking out at the harbor. Zhongli had let you pick where you wanted to stay and naturally you picked an area near the water. You were always calmed by the peaceful view of the large sea. Besides, it was cheaper than living in the mountains. Sometimes in the morning, the two of you would watch the sunrise and watch the sea turn blue. At night, you both would watch the sunset over the horizon before retiring for the night. On the more special nights, you would request Zhongli walk with you at night near the water. He never resisted you, creating soft moments as the two of you passed lotuses on the water. Your home was just big enough for the two of you, but sometimes you wondered if he would mind another one running around the house. The topic of children never came up, but it wasn't off the table either. Zhongli never had a problem with children and the kids around the area enjoyed talking with you. The broom in your hand squeaked as your grip had tightened on the broom. A cute image of a small child with Zhongli's features made you almost squeal in joy. Only his voice brought you out of your fantasy.

"The tea is almost ready"

The Fifth Hour

Whenever Zhongli made tea, there were always snacks. Only the finest of treats were allowed and Zhongli was always eager to pick something out for you. But after a while, he began to trust your taste and let you pick something not as expensive. But his favorite treats were the ones you made by hand in the kitchen. Zhongli would even eat the mistakes you made, offering you tips and encouragement for your next attempt. Knowing how peculiar he was, it had surprised you at first. But you knew why he still at your mistakes, even if he didn't admit it. "Your getting better at handling the rice cakes, you must mold it with the care of holding an egg yoke" he observed from over your shoulder. "It would help if you weren't always perched on my shoulder" you giggled. Zhongli's eyes widened and he stepped back a few steps. "I apologize, I simply enjoy watching you work is all" he apologized. But when he watched you he would walk closer without knowing. You were used to having him stand over you like this, you just liked teasing him like so. Once your treats were ready, you placed them on a dish and brought them to the table.

The Sixth Hour

"Hm, it has a nice aroma," Zhongli said with a satisfied smile. He was still unaware of your trick and you began to feel guilty. But you reminded yourself that the payoff would be worth it as Zhongli would putty in your hands. "It does, doesn't it? Is the tea ready?" you asked him. Zhongli nodded, taking out two teacups. As he poured the tea, you could see the amber liquid flowing into the cup. The way he poured tea was always so graceful as if he was serving a lord. It was simply another perk of being with Zhongli, nearly everything he did was beautiful. He waited until you both had a full cup before setting the pot back down. "Let us not wait any longer, you've been patient enough" Zhongli smiled at you. Grabbing your cup, you brought the rim to your lips. But you didn't tip the cup and instead looked at Zhongli. He closed his eyes as he sipped his tea. He always told you that doing so would allow you to envision the story behind the tea. But there was no way you could miss the sight of him when he drank tea. Zhongli was still for a moment, his brows furrowing. Then, he slowly set his teacup down. His neck bobbed as he swallowed and he slipped a finger into his collar around his neck. "I apologize for this, but I'm afraid I cannot allow you to enjoy this tea," he said as he stood up.

Before you could ask, Zhongli had walked around the table and lifted you into his arms. You held onto him tightly as he walked to your shared bedroom. He placed you onto the bed before loosening his tie. "It would appear there was an underlying effect in this blend, I cannot determine why but I feel as if you are the one responsible," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. You were speechless as you felt him put his knee between your legs. "Therefore, I expect you are capable of dealing with the consequences of your actions" he continued as he reached for your cheek. His gloved hand cupped your face and his thumb stroked across your cheek. "The tea may have seeped for six hours, but I don't plan on stopping for much longer than that" he hummed in delight.

[hotshotblackburn]

Mr Chimes Not Yet Found (and the Market of Hungers)

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1CntVVz2Rtx1mCm3NVPfmGkH8Nhf7Pic-6WmbsFGI3MM/edit?usp=sharing

I just realized that I never actually shared this to tumblr, and figured some might get a kick out of it! 

What is this? You may be familiar with Mr Chimes’ Lost and Found, under the Bazaar tab in Fallen London. It’s a shop that offers you a variety of items representing different Exceptional Stories, in exchange for Memories of a Tale - which can only be acquired by playing said stories. Playing seven ESes for example would get you seven Memories of a Tale...which could buy you Priscilla the Pig from My Kingdom for a Pig as a transport, or Vespasian from the Pentecost Predicament as a Home Comfort. Playing twelve ESes could get you July (yes, from Lost in Reflections) as a companion!

There are quite a few ESes represented in the shop. But not all of them...not by a long shot. So at some point, I decided - out of foolishness and a fondness for making fake FL items - to try my hand at making an item for every. single. Exceptional Story. Those that weren’t already featured in Lost and Found, at least. Please note: due to the nature of the list, expect possible spoilers for a whole bunch of ESes. The Not Yet Found (default tab) 51 Exceptional Items yet to be discovered by Mr Chimes, spread across all slots and stats. One for every Exceptional Story that hasn’t had an item yet for the Lost and Found, from The Court of Cats all the way to the most recent (as of this time of writing) Damp Martyrs. Below is only a sample of what you might find: - Bare your Exquisitely Vulnerable Neck to London, in memory of Caveat Emptor - Wield a Khaganian Sabre, like that the Ambassador once used in Web of the Motherlings - Make the Regards of a Surface Prince, potentially the same as met in Reunion. - Put on a pair of Swanmaiden’s Ballerina Slippers, and remember the Price of Loss  - Pick up yet another Month with the dreamy October, obliquely mentioned in The Shallows

Plus....

23 Seasonal Items, even more further from canon than the above! Do you remember when ESes had seasons? Do you wish they had some items that actually related to those seasons? They may not exist in Fallen London, but they exist in the Not Yet Found. Contemplate: - Getting yourself an Array of Monstrous Needles, to commemorate the Season of Wrecks -  Feeling the Pulse of the Bazaar’s Heart, in memory of the Season of Adorations - Striking up an Association with the Vivacious Marchioness, from the Season of Propinquity

The Market of Hungers (second tab) All those fictional FL items not enough for you? How about a completely new list, based on nothing more than all 34 regions + 2 unmade regions of the Unterzee (as seen in Sunless Sea)? 36 items, spanning slots and stats, with a distinctly subnautical theme to them, loosely grouped by regions (the Zeefarer update for Fallen London, while much appreciated, plays a little merry havoc with island locations). across the six Houses of the Iron Republic’s market. A sample of what may be found... - An Ancient Bat-Flown War Canoe from the Tomb-Colonies, in the House of Pleasures - A pair of Peligin-Drenched Fishnet Stockings from the Promised Sea, in the House of Milks - A Mischievous Blue Prophet from the Crying Heights, in the House of Harvests - Your very own Saddled Knot-Oracle from the Sea of Lillies, in the House of Harms - A fetching Vespinaean Breastplate from Palmerston’s Reach, in the House of Labours - The ingenious and ominous Spring-Loaded Spirifer’s Gloves from the Empire of Hands, in the House of Hopes

It’s been quite enjoyable making these items over the course of 2021, and I’ll add more as new Exceptional Stories come out! As for future lists based on Sunless Skies or Mask of the Rose...well, I won’t say yes but I won’t say never...

[scullyy]

Afterglow

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Once the party has finished, the children sulk off to their rooms, worrying about the fight ahead. For Clementine and Louis, the night is still young.

A/N: welp….I was gone for longer than I thought. It was a nice break, I hadn’t realised how much I actually needed it. Despite that, I missed everyone, I missed being here. So I figured what way to come back than by posting a one-shot I’m high-key proud of?

Enjoy xx

-

Does the darkness have a name?

As AJ blew out the last candle, that’s all there was. Darkness. The odd ray of moonlight poured into the room, shining through the wooden beams covering the window. It was on all of their faces, shadows making them appear older. They all felt it, together. A sombre harmony.

Clementine watched her friends slink out of the room, whispering their goodnights. She noticed the gentle shake on Ruby’s shoulders, her hands held tightly together, trying to comfort her own mind. Tenn and Willy walked away together, thankful that their friendship wasn’t long gone, thankful for the pleasant distraction.

She wondered when it first appeared, this darkness. Had it crept into their lives as children? Already apart of the world long before they were ever born, or was it new? Festering on the decay and newfound rot. She pulled her jacket around herself, trying to conceal the darkness that was definitely within her.

She was so wound up in her brooding thoughts, she didn’t even notice the small presence beside her until he tugged at her pant leg. “Clem?” Her goofball looked up at her with tired, sunken eyes. “Can we go to bed?”

Clementine would have taken his little hand and gladly dream of lighter things if there still wasn’t someone in the room. Hiding away from the moonlight, wrapped up in more darkness than anyone, Louis. His hands now lay empty beside him, the keys on his dear piano lonely. A few minutes ago he was lighting up the room with his tune, capturing the attention of everyone. Now he hid away into himself, a form Clementine hadn’t seen from him before.

“You run off kiddo, I’ll be there soon,” Knowing he would want to stay by her side, she gave AJ a little push out the room, quickly waving goodbye until the door was shut completely. He was still so new, he didn’t understand what the darkness even was and why it won’t ever go away. She turned back to Louis, finding him now tracing the edge of the keys. The silence was haunting, he didn’t fit into it at all. “I can tell that something is on your mind.”

He inhaled deeply before answering. “I’m wondering what Violet is doing right now.”

Clementine froze on the spot, her feet attached to the muddy carpet only because he was brave enough to say what everyone was thinking. “I don’t know. If Lilly wants soldiers I’m sure she won’t hurt any of them.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Rather he hoped she was. All of them; Aasim, Omar and Violet. This woman, Lilly, was so ruthless. Yet it exposed just how blind Louis was, how unsafe and vulnerable they had been this entire time. “How many more of us have to die before the dust finally settles?” Hearing Willy and Tenn list off the names of their old school mates unlocked memories Louis filed away, hoping to never tread across again. The kid they found chomped to bits by the river, the debate club president they found hanging from the basketball hoop, the girl Louis used to sit next to in art class was barely recognizable when the walkers left her by the river. Her neon purple socks being the only telling feature.

Clementine felt it again; that strange thump in her heart, out of tune with the rest of her body. If the darkness did have a name, she assumed it would be her own. Bringing death and war wherever she went; the motor inn, Marsh House, the cabin group, Howe’s Warehouse, hell even the Garcia’s. People ran or they died and Clem couldn’t decide which was worse. “We’re going to be okay-”

“You can’t promise that!” Louis whipped his head right at her, revealing the red veins popping in his glazed eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, pressing at the tight knots that never seemed to go away. “Sorry. I’m just scared. I’ll, uh..I’ll sleep it off, that should help.” This was everything.  His parent’s divorce. Marlons’ death. Violet’s, Omar and Aasims’ capture. Every shrapnel of pain, guilt and grief throwing him into the shallow end.

She knew it all too well. “Louis, you’re not going to bed,” Clementine recognised the look on his face, she had seen it on AJ countless times before and it always lead to nightmares and restlessness. She glanced inside the case for the classical record, finding another one inside, secretly hidden away. Lady luck was on her side for once. After setting it all up in the gramophone, she twirled over to him extending her hand. “Dance with me.”

He looked at her hand then back at her, trying to decipher what she was doing. “What?”

“C'mon, or can you not dance?”

She could see it, the darkness rolling off his shoulders like a wave lurching off a steady rock. A cheeky smile appeared on his face slowly, her Louis was shining through once again. The silly boy she had fallen for. “Oh, I can dance. I’m just not sure you’ll be able to keep up with me.” He hopped up, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. When did it get so hot in here?

Clem took a final step closer, their shoes now touching. “Then show me.” She breathed into his ear, enjoying her little sense of pride as the roaring moonlight exposed his flustered expression. No longer were his eyes hollow and empty, now returning to their glowing form.

The gramophone sprang to life as the song began to fill up the room, an entity all of its own as it seemed to brush away the dark clouds nesting around them. Or perhaps it was love, crawling under their skin as they slyly glanced at each other. Either way, what bliss.

I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places

Louis shook his head, trying to string together a sentence. “Let’s…uh, how do we start?” They readied their hands into the right position, even if it was entirely based on what they saw on tv as children; his hands crossed around her waist, hers snaked around his neck. “You want to stand on my feet?”

Clementine’s eyebrows pursed together, her nose crinkling. “Is that a short joke?”

He hummed it over, purposefully ignoring her stubborn gaze with a slight glint in his eye. “It is now.”

That this heart of mine embraces All-day and through

Louis twirled her around beneath their natural spotlight, letting the sparks from the moon push against the claws of the darkness. It fell away from their minds just as quickly as it took ahold of them. “Never took you for the dancing type.”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me, Lou.”

In that small cafe The park across the way The children’s carousel

He pulled her in rather closely, placing his lips against the tip of her ear. “I look forward to finding out more then.”

The chestnut trees The wishing well

A fleet of giggles broke free from both of them as he twirled her for the umpteenth time. Clementine found the room still spinning once she was back in his arms but she didn’t mind, he was there to keep her close. He was the only thing she was certain of these days. “Told you we would have plenty of time for dates.”

Louis madly grinned from ear to ear. “This is another date? Damn, two in one day. I think that might be a new record.” His normally chipper voice had somehow reached a new level of glee, making her already frantically beating heart soak in the sound.

I’ll be seeing you In every lovely summer’s day In everything that’s light and gay I’ll always think of you that way

Clem bit at her lip, considering what exactly he had proposed. “I don’t think it is…”

“It is now, I decree it!” He sang out loud in his typical fashion.

She rolled her eyes, a common reaction to his quips. But unlike the other kids, Clem was still smiling. “You can’t just make up new records, there’s a system, it takes time.”

“Of course I can!” He twirled her with a tad more ferocity this time, letting her get distracted from the silly debate as she couldn’t help but squeal, her feet at frantic work to keep her level.

I’ll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new

Louis pulled her in closer than they originally were before, gazing down at her. His eyes softer, radiating warmth. A warmth she hadn’t seen in another human for quite a while.

“Time doesn’t exist anymore.”

Clementine gently patted his shoulder, returning to her original stance. “Let’s just get through tomorrow, then we can discuss our future.”

Their future.

I’ll be looking at the moon But I’ll be seeing you

Their future could be anything; her wish was his law. Anything she wanted or desired for the chance to show her he could be it all. He could be hers and she could be his and they could be together and it would work.

As if he wasn’t already hers the moment she graced his lowly life with her presence.

I’ll be seeing you In every lovely summer’s day

“Ow!”

“Sorry!”

“Maybe I should stand on your feet.” Clementine huffed as she attempted to shake the pain out of her foot. The heel of his boot was a lot harder than she had considered, then again she never gave his shoes much thought. Not when there were other more charming factors about him to focus on.

In everything that’s light and gay

His eyes shot down to his feet, watching carefully with every step he took. “Maybe I’m not that good at dancing.” There was no beat or melody to their odd little dance, their feet just stepping wherever and however.

I’ll always think of you that way

Gently placing her finger beneath his chin, she raised his head back up, forcing their eyes to meet. “You’re not too bad, we’ll just have to practice.”

“Oh ho ho! Practice? More dates? I like the sound of that!”

I’ll find you in the morning sun

She considered her next words carefully, not wanting to burst this enchanted bubble they had made. “It means you can’t die on me tomorrow.”

Louis almost didn’t hear her over the music, until the words settled and the weight of it clicked. It was there; death and the darkness that came with it. Not just for the war they were about to embark on, but every day after that too. “You can’t die on me either. This is a two way street.”

And when the night is new

She knew the weight of these two simple words, yet declared them anyway. “I promise.”

His much larger arms clung to her much smaller waist and gently dipped her to the floor, her hat tumbling down, though neither of them cared. She clung onto his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his warm coat, wondering if he was trembling the same way she was. “Me too.” He promised, with nothing but love on the mind.

Their eyes remained linked; copper melting with bronze. The darkness had sulked away, letting the moment remain in a light bliss shared by the two. A new, hopeful harmony.

I’ll be looking at the moon But I’ll be seeing you

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Radio Silence (Pt.1)

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

Logan Devros was a very odd man, short, not particularly fit, with round black glasses that just barely left room for the rest of his face, and a rather large gap just between his teeth. But there was one thing that stood out more about Logan than any physical feature. Logan was mute, except when he had his hands on a radio.

Logan had always been a very inquisitive child, and at age sixteen he'd discovered something very much convenient, radio waves could be manipulated from an outside source to connect the words stored within into a neat string of sentences. He knew of course that other devices could do this just as effectively, but he liked to think that his own discovery was much more sentimental.

Another thing that was quite well known about Logan, was his prowess in terms of guitar, he couldnt tell stories with words, so instead he told them with strings, and what stories they were.

You could always tell what mood he was in by the songs he played, a low and somber tone brought in questions about his life and living conditions, a high and energetic tone gathered crowds of excited people, ready to toss a coin or a dollar into a guitar case which lay in front of a bar stool.

Logan lived in a small town, so it was no surprise that he knew all his patrons, and they knew him just as well.

But soon things began to change, people began moving away to bigger and better things, opportunities opened up in large cities with loud noises and bright lights that made Logan's skin crawl just thinking about them.

And so the crowds dwindled, until what had once been at least a hundred, was hardly more than a handful.

So Logan had stopped playing, it didnt make any sense to spin stories that no one would listen to, after all, he was quite tired of that from his childhood as it was.

So he stayed in his room, head resting on a desk as the sun peaked through the curtains, tapping his fingers and twisting dials on a radio, repeating the same phrases over and over again.

Alone

Sad

Forgotten

Worthless

Like some cruel melody that would never make it's way to the strings of the old guitar laying on his bed, just those four words, over, and over, until he got up to eat or sleep or whatever else required him to leave his room for a few seconds.

And it all came crashing further down within the next month, the town was all but abandoned, and was soon on it's way to being bulldozed into an amusement park.

Which meant Logan had to move.

So he took his four favorite words, and he wandered the streets for the next few days, not daring to think of all he had to give away to simply move somewhere safer.

Not daring to think of the memories.

Not daring to think of the people, the family he'd be leaving.

And two years later it still hurt, but at least now he could use a few new words.

Order up!

Refill at table seven!

Have a good day!

The bakery and boarding house he'd found himself situated in had been a very ironic bittersweet opportunity.

Patton Boleyn had inherited the company from his parents, he was very chatty, and very interested in Logan's radio, and his music. Logan would sometimes play for the patrons when he wasnt serving, that seemed to satiate the obvious hunger for violence that swam in the eyes of those just itching for a reason to gain money rather than spend it.

Patton didnt seem to mind that Logan only spoke through radio waves, and for the most part neither did the locals, it was only ever tourists that seemed to have trouble understanding that he could very easily hear their orders despite not being able to repeat them back.

"Pretty good haul tonight huh Logie?" Patton said as he checked the register.

New books replied the radio, Logan smiling as he counted out his share of that nights earnings.

"Oh! That reminds me, theres a book club starting tonight! I think you should go," Patton smiled, Logan froze slightly.

No socializing protested the radio, Patton pouted slightly.

"Just try it out? You barely interact with anyone but me, it's not good for you!" Patton nudged Logan slightly in the arm.

Logan let out a resound sigh, one of the few sounds he could make without static.

One night replied the radio, and despite the distinctly hyper-tone of the song the words had been pulled from, Logan's expression conveyed disdain for the idea.

And yet, soon enough he was sitting in a library, wishing he'd remembered to get a hair cut when the resident little old lady had commented on how nice it looked, checking every few seconds to make sure the black beanie he was wearing still sat securely on his head.

The radio was held tightly to his chest, hidden behind a large black hoodie, and emitting a faint buzz that he hoped was another case of his ears picking up the Forbidden Sounds that most couldnt hear.

The only discussion occurring seemed to be of what to read, and how you should interpret what you're reading. Logan thought about drifting off soon after someone mentioned how the color of someones curtains could be used to determine what mental illness they might be suffering from, until someone else spoke up.

"Cheryl I hope you are aware that the words that just came out of your mouth may very well be the dumbest sentence ever constructed by a person." Logan looked across the table to see a man in a torn denim vest and black tank top leaning over the table, honey-colored eyes staring down the woman across from him.

"You cant tell that someone suffers from a disorder based purely on their curtain color, and while those suffering from certain illnesses may be more inclined to pick colors that would be less than ideal, but would reflect how they feel, a man hanging up the color black hardly indicates a depressive state so much as a fear of the unknown, which you would know had you actually finished the chapter and reached the part where he's confronted with a rip in the curtains that allows him to see what goes on outside his home," said the man, straightening up and checking his nails through fingerless black leather gloves. The woman across from him seemed floored.

Logan let out an involuntary snicker, and froze up immeadietly as attention became refocused on him. He felt like putty under the gaze of those honey yellow eyes.

"Am I to assume you agree then?" Said the man, leaning his head on his hand and letting his elbow rest on the table.

He reminded Logan somewhat of a snake, from his eyes, to the pattern of brown and tan that made of his complexion.

Yes came the radio from behind Logan's jacket.

"Oh it's that little mute boy from the bakery!" Logan's face flushed with color at the comment from somewhere else in the room.

"I believe his name is Logan." Snarled the man in the denim vest.

Logan spent the rest of the meeting wishing he could disappear again, because it seemed that now that they were aware he was here, people interrupted conversation of books with questions about his personal life and how awful it must be to have no voice to speak with, to which he replied with a quick rendition of his favorite song by Lilly Allen from the radio.

Eventually it was over, but to Logan's momentary dismay, he was stopped before he could head home, only to discover the man from before had been the one to catch his attention.

"I'm Janus by the way," he said simply.

Nice to meet you the radio chimed, Logan flashing a small smile to accompany the words.

"Wanna head back to my place for a drink or two? I feel kind of bad about what happened in there," Janus said, Logan merely nodded.

What he hadnt expected from Janus' house, was the very active roommate he had roomed with.

"Oh I didnt realize he was so tiny! Janus look at him I could probably hold him over my shoulder with one arm!" The roommate, Remus, was rather tall and lanky, almost like if someone had taken a worm on a string and given it limbs.

I am not short replied the radio as Logan crossed his arms and glared up at Remus.

"Aaawww, hes in denial," Remus replied.

This conversation carried on for a short while before Janus arrived with drinks, not that Logan minded, it was actually kind of fun.

And he found himself thinking that Janus and Remus themselves were actually quite nice as well.

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

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[darkpetal16]

Can we see anything about the Jujutsu story? I'm so excited to see all the chaos!!

Sure thing! I'll take some scenes from chapter one. They haven't been edited yet and I don't have a beta so please forgive the typos / lack of description.

April 13th, 2000

Éclosion was a town of over 25,000 citizens in France. It was a suburb a few hours from Paris, and was known as one of the safer towns in France.

On April 13th, in the year 2000, the entire population of Éclosion instantly died from an “unknown” cause.

To most of the world, it was a bizarre tragedy, something to be marked down as an unsolved mystery for the history books. Each citizen had simultaneously suffocated within a few minutes of being exposed to… something.

Something that could not leave behind a physical trace of its existence yet was so overwhelming it simultaneously strangled over 25,000 living beings within Éclosion.

To a very small group of people, they knew the truth.

That town did not die by ordinary means, rather, from the sheer spiritual pressure exerted by a very dangerous being.

To that small group of people, they assumed it was the work of a curse.

Curses were created when cursed energy leaked from humans as a result of their human emotion. Cursed energy would build up in areas like sediment until it is strong enough to manifest a form. They were known to be lethal when left alone.

Populated locations such as schools and hospitals are hot spots for creating curses because many negative emotions were associated with those places. The same concept applies humanity's collective fear and hatred. An image of fear shared by the masses can create a powerful curse even if the subject was not real, such as famous monsters or ghosts. The negative emotions that humanity directed at that singular fear would cause it to manifest as a curse and in time… a cursed spirit.

Cursed spirits’ bodies are entirely made up of cursed energy--or spiritual energy. Their metaphysical existence made it impossible for normal humans to perceive or touch them.

Only a small group of humans were able to interact with cursed spirits, and in turn, combat them.

They were known as Jujutsu Sorcerers.

Jujutsu Sorcerers formed a society over the past thousands of years to work in the shadows to supress curses in an effort to protect humanity. All Jujutsu Sorcerers were trained in their youth at one of the two Jujutsu educational facilities in either Tokyo or Kyoto in Japan. At those facilities, they were taught how to utilize their own cursed energy in order to exorcise cursed spirits.

After graduating, alumni Sorcerers who remain aligned with the schools typically used one of the two facilities as a home base. Those facilities served as the cornerstone for the Jujutsu Sorcerer community. They mediated issues, assigned missions, and officially established a payroll for all their employed exorcists. The higher-ups were in charge of the schools and by extension all Jujutsu sorcerers.

Sorcerers would be dispatched wherever they found a gathering of cursed spirits. They were dispatched based on how strong they are in comparison to the spirit they face. The jujutsu society would rank spirits--and Sorcerers--like so:

Grade 4 - The weakest; a tire iron is plenty to deal with it.

Grade 3 - Slightly harder than Grade 4; handgun or something of similiar power recommended.

Semi-Grade 2

Grade 2 - An average Jujutsu sorcerer would not come out unscathed.

Semi-Grade 1

Grade 1 - “Even a tank might be insufficient.”

Special Grade 1

Special Grade - “Cluster bombs might work.”

For reasons not yet known to the Jujutsu community, curses and Sorcerers were most commonly found in Japan. While some could crop up in other countries, it was exceedingly rare.

That meant only a handful of Sorcerers were dispatched on rotation to monitor countries outside of Japan.

For example, France.

There were only three Sorcerorors stationed in France and they would handle the curses and Curse Users that appeared in France.

Three Sorcerers.

Who, at best, could handle a Grade 1 spirit.

But on April 13th that year something truly horrific happened.

A curse that had simultaneously slaughtered thousands of civilians within minutes of being born. Its mere presence could be felt by the Sorcerors not only in France, but in the surrounding countries across Europe.

It was only felt for five minutes, and then it vanished.

And so while the majority of the world was in a panicked frenzy over the mysterious massacre, the Jujutsu world was in a different kind of panic.

For a spirit that went beyond their measurement system had just been born… and they had no way of dealing with it.

.

<Skipping a scene here to avoid spoilers>

.

(Lilly - April 13th, 2000)

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Lilly stared in grim resignation at the hanging corpse. The woman didn’t even reach her thirties before throwing in the towel. The body swayed side by side, still warm. Still leaking. The woman hadn’t hung herself from far up enough to snap her neck, so she strangled slowly and painfully.

Dumbass, Lilly thought, finding it hard to scrounge up sympathy for the woman.

Woman could have saved herself the painful death if she just chugged sleeping pills with wine.

But people that desperate to flee reality rarely thought that rationally.

“Geh,” Lilly gasped, clutching at her head as another burst of pain shot through her. She was blinded, her vision going completely white at the influx of memories.

She fell to her knees, struggling to breathe from the intense pain. Her body quaked and trembled, unable to cope with the weight of her soul.

Too many memories. Too many lives. Too many deaths.

If she could forget then the body would carry on without needing her entire soul to be there. She could rest a bit more. She could sleep in death’s kind arms--

But, no.

Again.

Again.

She woke up again in a body too small and immature to handle the weight of her memories.

Lilly was what many referred to as an old soul.

It was not that her soul was older than the others around her, more so that her soul tended to retain the memories and knowledge of her previous lives.

Whereas death granted most souls a clean slate before their next life, Lilly was not permitted the same courtesy.

She was, mockingly, a Blessed being.

The pain subsided, the small body quivering.

How old am I now? Lilly wondered. Which world is this? Where--?

Panting, the old soul glanced around the house. Most of it looked like an average house on Earth from the early 2000s or late 1900s. None of it was in disarray so probably not apocalyptic.

Not completely normal though, Lilly thought, feeling how sensitive her spiritual energy was in her current body.

If was born in a powerless world, she wouldn’t have woken up. The fact that she woke up meant there was something about that world that made it special.

Maybe a Hero will be born here? Will a Story happen?

Her head throbbed again, her soul and energy aching from the strain of being awoken in a premature body. Lilly stumbled around the house, every so often feeling another spike of her insides burning.

It was not too dissimilar to swallowing lava. On top of the pain, she was nauseous, unbearably hot, and had significant difficulty in trying to focus on what was in front of her. Every step was a milestone. Her soul yearned to burst out of the fragile body, to preemptively rejoin death.

Not yet. I woke up here for a reason. There’s always a reason, Lilly thought. She fumbled around the house, searching for anything that could give her a better idea of where she was.

No computer. I think I see a landline phone, though, Lilly thought.

When she went to use it, however, only silence could be heard. She frowned, then hesitantly moved to flick on the lights.

Nothing happened.

Uwa… did I accidentally fry the tech trying to contain my energy? Lilly wanted to groan.

She hated being reborn in tech-sensitive worlds. If her spiritual energy was too overwhelmign for the technology, it became such a hassle. It meant she had to consciously filter, repress, and refine her energy any time she had to use it when around technology.

Whatever.

Time to find a neighbor then, she thought.

Stepping outside the house, Lilly found a bizarre scene. There was a mailman who collapsed right at the door, and judging from how still he was, she could tell he wasn’t breathing.

Lilly stared at the dead body. She looked up and found several crashed cards and more dead bodies.

Oh.

“Oops,” she said.

.

<Skipping several scenes & time skip>

.

March 8, 2001

Lilly was minding her own business the following day. Yuuta was swaddled and placed in a baby wrap carrier that Lilly tied around herself. She kept his head well supported, it rested in the crook of her neck.

It had been a while since she had repeatedly cast so many illusionary and compulsion spells. She knew it couldn’t be helped--she was in the body of a seven-year old, of course the adults wouldn’t take her too seriously.

She had finished authenticating his birth certificate, adoption papers, and was on her way to handle funeral arrangements for his mother. Lilly had already made a few tentative and brief ventures into the world to steal (shamelessly) steal money so she had cash on hand in case the woman hadn’t made prior plans for herself--which guessing by how optimistic she was, Lilly assumed the answer was no.

Yuuta was an easy crier, which made what would have been a thirty-minute errand into a two-hour errand since a lot of that time was spent soothing the infant.

Lilly could feel he had more spiritual energy inside him than some of the adults she had previously encountered, but it was still growing.

If her hunch was correct and he was a protagonist--or antagonist--then she figured his energy would only continue to grow.

Maybe I should start feeding him some of mine? Lilly pondered. If she doubled or tripled the raw power of someone important, what would Fate do? Would it increase the power levels of everyone else to match, or would it give away under her pressure?

She didn’t know the story--if there was one in that world--so she had no way of knowing what to anticipate. She could only catch the common signs and draw her own predictions from her past experiences.

Let’s find out, Lilly thought.

<Scenebreak>

Daiki Choki was had recently completed his mission to vanquish an A-Grade Curse at a nearby graveyard. It had gone much smoother than he anticipated, and the Jujutsu Sorcerer was looking forward to his pay.

As he was leaving the graveyard, however, he felt something… odd.

It was indescribable. A sensation he had never encountered.

Similar… very similar… to encountering a powerful Curse, but…

It was a Curse, yet it was not.

It clearly had a presence. He felt an uncomfortable heat wash over him, as if the thing was projecting an aura of fire, but it was not malicious. Curses were filled with malevolent bloodlust, but what he felt lacked that intensity.

It was still dangerous, that heat.

Perhaps not directly evil, but…

If he had to put it into words, it was as if he had stumbled across a forest fire. The fire held no ill-will, but it was still a dangerous force that if left unchecked would devour the entire forest.

Daiki did not feel that it was especially powerful, however, so he made his way over to it.

To his surprise, it took the form of a small girl holding something in a budle of cloth. She was entering the funeral parlor.

Daiki frowned. Curses had never looked human before.

Suppose there’s always a chance it’s possessing her corpse, Daiki thought. He may not have encountered that specific scenario before, but he didn’t see a reason why it couldn’t happen.

Curses weren’t human, but they were tricky by nature.

Daiki lingered outside the mortician’s office, wondering if he would need to follow after the curse. He hated fighting near civilians, but--

The Curse left, as if sensing something was wrong.

But that’s silly, thought Daiki.

It headed straight past the building, making its way to the graves behind. Daiki followed behind it, slowly pulling his gun.

The Curse stopped, turning around to face Daiki. Its eyes were a vibrant red.

“Why are you focusing on me?” it asked.

Oddly articulate for a curse, the Sorcerer thought, raising his gun and taking aim. He smirked. “Don’t worry about it, Curse.”

“Curse? What--?”

He fired, and then his whole world tilted upside down. He hadn’t even felt it happening, let alone seen it, but somehow his head had been chopped off his body the moment he pulled the trigger. The Curse, who had been several steps ahead of him, was suddenly crushing his gun in her bare hand, scowling at him.

“If I had let that gone off, you woulda woken him,” she scolded the decapitated head. “Rude.”

[foolscapper]

Someplace Warmer, Someplace Safer - (How the Wild Things Start Universe)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is not edited/beta'd, so please forgive any rough spots! I'll be cleaning it up and posting it on ao3 at a later time! This also takes place after How the Wild Things Start, and is based on a request sent in by @saintedjack -- thank you!

WARNINGS: PTSD responses, MENTION OF CHILD ABUSE (SEXUAL), please tread carefully if that's hard for you!

In the year of our Lord 2020, Sam Winchester didn't think that Christmas would feel so much less... sore of a spot. Maybe that's because he's practiced a handful of Christmases with Leia and Lilly now and has realized with some clarity that holidays can sometimes be about as good as the number of kids who get excited over it. When it was just him and Dean, it was a coupla beers and memories of little kids who sat in hotel rooms waiting for their parent — singular. Now Lilly is coloring pictures of reindeer and eagerly reminding Dean of what she wants for the hundredth time. ("Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean grumbles, without even the smallest bit of heat to it, "How could I forget when you drew it on my bedroom wall?") Meanwhile, Leia's fourteen, so the appeal of a 'Santa Claus' isn't really there for her; she and Sam are too alike on that front, having lost whatever magic Christmas would've had when they were very little. But she loves that Lilly loves it. She helps her hang up tinsel and all those basic holiday ornaments around the bunker. When Sam and Dean are out to get the kitsune her dietary needs, she prays to Castiel, makes him trek all the way to Lebanon — just so she can ask him to drive her to the rental box in front of the liquor store for holiday films. Anyway, uh. Sam feels... good. He feels good about it. About Christmas. 

First time in forever, he knows, but things evolve over time, right?

Whatever makes them happy makes him happy, and it doesn't help that Dean's starting to get into a bit of a frantic holiday mood himself when he realizes Cas and Leia rented National Lampoon's Holiday Vacation. With one girl on either side of him, his brother chatters on and on about classics, movies like A Christmas Story and the Grinch, and Sam can only roll his eyes in good humor and sound fondness. It's a good day. He hasn't had a nightmare in days — hasn't slept-walked in almost as long (not that it stops Dean from keeping the front door locked, so Sam can't wander out again and scare the shit out of them). It's the day before Christmas, though, and there's plenty of cereal, boxed mac 'n cheese and canned Chef Boyardee, but absolutely nothing that rightfully belongs on a dinner table for the holidays. "I'll be back; just gonna pick up some stuff," he says, while the three are in the middle of Mr. Grinch, you're a bad banana, Mr. Grinch, with the greasy black peel-. Dean snaps out of the trance that had made him 10-years-old for a moment and looks critically at Sam; Lilly doesn't look away from the television, but Leia's sharp gaze shoots to Sam at the same time as Dean's. Dean says, "You sure you don't want us to go, too?" And Sam waves it off. Waves both of them off, since Leia's trying so hard to judge him under her bangs "I'll be fine. Just hitting the grocery for something that works for tomorrow. Please try not to feed them straight sugar while I'm gone?" "Yes, honey," Dean huffs, but there's some hesitance in the way he turns to look back at the TV. He couldn't really blame him, considering what shitty lucky they had apart. Or, well... considering the guilt that still festers in Dean like old, greenish wounds. Sam knows it's there every time his brother glances at pale scars intersecting on his arms, or when he manages to rouse him from a bad dream, or when Sam spaces out at the dinner table until something startles him to attention. Sam's screwed up, and Dean's still gnawing at his own leg for letting it happen. ... Shit happens. Sam tries not to think about it anymore than he has to, because it's not like the muscle memory ever goes away, nor those phantom smells or those reels of the monster rings. No, no, he's not going to think about it. Because today's a good day. It's a good week. He takes the keys to the truck he's kept to himself, makes a mental note to call Castiel and see if he'll stop by for visiting. The air outside is cold and bitterly unfair to the lungs, but he tugs his jacket tighter around himself and wills the old truck AC to start heating him back up. The drive isn't far, and the people at the place he's driving to know him well enough. He's not sure if that's a good or bad thing, especially now that they see him changed so drastically; he's pretty sure Dean just tells them all he'd gotten deployed somewhere and ended up hurt, or something. Sam doesn't bother figuring out the cover story, because he's not ever going to be in the mood to talk about it with Joey Behind the Counter or Leticia Stocking the Shelves, no matter how much he likes them. The bell to the store rings, they wave him in, ask him about his plans for the holidays, tell him all about their kids — he surprises himself by talking about his own, albeit vaguely, because you never know who is truly safe. And even though he has little to no skill in hearty, holiday feasts, he knows the basics from television: cranberry sauce, turkey, stuffing, eggnog, so on and so on. Despite his complaint to Dean not to overfeed the kids on sweets, he ends up grabbing two boxes of themed cookies, too. It's not until he walks out the front door that he feels something's off. He'd never claim to still have the powers he did at age 22, but — the hairs on his neck stand up, goosebumps running along his arms beneath his thick coat. It's hard to say what even caused it; there's nobody around. He glances uneasily left and right, and then makes a slow, cautious walk toward the parking around the corner. His heart thumps in his chest and his mind plays cruel games with him: what if it's a hunter coming for him? Looking for him and his family, after what happened at their old cabin? It hasn't been that long. "Hello," a little, polite voice chirps from seemingly out of nowhere. Sam nearly leaps out of his skin, teeth snapping together as he turns in a fraction of a second — ready to fight, dropping his grocery bags as his hand reaches around the back of him. (Bright lights, feral howls of pain, blood on dirt and black eyed spectators-) His breath catches at the startled teenager with sandy-blonde hair standing in front of him. He's dressed in clothes he's clearly worn for a long time, the knitting on his gloves and cap frayed. The smell of an alleyway greets Sam belatedly, and shame creeps into his face when he realizes just what he's actually looking at here: some homeless kid whose smile has faded into a look of uncertainty. Wanted a buck, but ended up with some over-sized freak having an episode at him. "S—sorry," Sam chokes out. He's trying not to let himself get pulled under, but the lights have... always been so bright. The kid seems appeased by the way Sam steps back, though, and moves to rather calmly start collecting the fallen goods from the ground; for a moment, Sam wonders if he's just gonna take them for the trouble, but the boy starts putting them back into the brown paper bags they'd come in. "It's fine. I must be scarier than I thought." It's said in such an easy way, and he looks up with a kind, gap-toothed smile. "I was going to ask if you could spare some money, but I can see now that I should have made my presence more obvious." ... That's a way for a teenaged boy to put it. It reminds Sam of a particular angel of Thursday and his straightforward, over-complicated way of talk. With a somewhat forced smile, he bends down to quickly collect what the kid hasn't. "No, no, I'm — I'm good at being on edge. It wasn't you. Sorry for... that." He's not sure how to put it. He has a hard time remembering how to talk to people, sometimes. There's something particularly distracting about this one, though. Maybe it's the fact that he's so youthful, covered in dirt and red in the nose. Looks at him like how Leia had — with the hope that Sam can help him. Or is he just projecting? He pinches the bridge of his nose, smiling tiredly. "What's your name, kid?" The boy says, almost proudly, "Jack." "... Um, well. Jack. I'm Sam. It's good to meet you. I think you deserve something nice for not thinking I'm a total weirdo, so... if you wanna carry a bag to the truck for me, I've got some cookies and dollars to offer you?" It feels kind of demeaning in a way, like he's giving the poor kid some basic task to 'earn' what Sam'll give him. But Jack just nods and walks along side him. "Thanks, Sam," Jack says. He says Sam's name like he's testing out the weight of it, forming it carefully in his mouth. Despite Jack's appearance, he radiates something... well, something. It's warmer than the weather. "Where are you from, Jack?" Sam asks, tilting his chin forward to look down. His voice is softer, more careful. "From everywhere," Jack says, and looks over at Sam. "I honestly don't know. I've just always been... like this." "... Homeless?" Sam offers. Jack cocks his head to the side, gazing ahead of them. "Homeless. Yes." It's not a long walk, so it's not like there's much more to talk about before they reach the old truck. They load up the groceries, and Sam provides one box of cookies (in this case, the box that is less crushed from falling on the asphalt). It feels like a meager kind of offering, all things considered. "Here — I mean, if you like sweets. I bought way too many, so... Um. And — " "I like cookies," Jack says as a matter-of-factly. "Thank you, Sam." Doesn't feel good enough, though. Sam gnaws his lip and feels... some sort of way about all this. Like he's doing something the wrong way, here. Leia and Lilly have ruined him for life. "Where are you heading, anyway? Do you live in town? I've never seen you here before." Jack's already got the box of cookies wrenched open, and he's eating them too fast, a lot like how Sam used to eat his rations when he lived in a cage, in the dark. Sam's already predicting that he's gonna get sick, and he can't really hide the wince as the crumbs start to collect on Jack's old jacket. Jack looks like he's unsure how to answer, not for the first time. "I'm just moving around. I have nowhere to be, as long as it's — " He struggles for the right word. "Safe." "Safe," Sam says. Jack nods with a mouthful. "Shafe," he says. Sams hands twitch nervously at the thought of sending the boy away with his 'rewards'. Whatever the hell cookies constitute as, anyway. It's not safe out there, that's for sure. It's gonna be below freezing for a while in Lebanon, and — He sighs softly. No... No, it's not smart. Not smart to being a stray into a house full of supernatural lore books, weapons, monster children. He would freak out. He'd panic and he'd know where they live, and he could tell anyone with an ear open about where a guy named Sam lives with his odd little family. But... "You want me to drive you somewhere? I mean, there should be a homeless shelter around here somewhere, if you need somewhere a little less... this." He gestures to the world around them, swathed in a fine layer of snow. Jack seems mildly uncertain, a crooked line of uncertainty to his lips. Sam recognizes maybe he looks like he's one-half a serial killer in his plaid, with his weird flinching and nervousness. "You don't have to, but... I don't want you to freeze out here." After a moment, Jack does seem to relent; nobody likes to be cold, and Sam could tell even if he was handling it well, it was not a pleasant experience he wants to endure any longer than he has to. So he nods at last, and Sam nods to the passenger seat. "Climb aboard, then. I think I remember the street and everything; you'll be warm in no time. And, uh. We can get you something better than cookies, actually." "I don't know what can be better than cookies," Jack replies, sliding into the passenger seat, "But I'm willing to consider it." The truck stutters to life, and Sam makes a beeline for the nearest Taco Bell there is. Cheap, but you get a hell of a lot with a little; he and Dean were no stranger to that particular drive-thru back in the day, when Dean was too tired to eat expired food and Sam was too tired to go buy himself a decent salad and sandwich. The Helping Hands Homeless Shelter is a good distance, so Sam learns a few things in-between Jack scarfing down burritos and soft tacos: he's fourteen or fifteen (he thinks?; Sam's mortified by the thought of him being on his own all this time), his mother died when he was born, he's not sure where his father is, and he's always been moving. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts, nobody that he's familiar with. Once the last wrapper is thrown on the floorboard as designated, though, Jack looks uneasy. "... Is this 'a trade'?" Sam glances over, brow furrowed. "A what?" "A trade," Jack reaffirms, and his eyes — glance down, towards Sam's crotch. Sam feels like he's going to puke, his stomach twisting and heart lurching. He almost slams on the brakes then and there, in the middle of the street, but he manages to avoid doing anything so fucking stupid as to scare the kid. Sam and Dean have both had their fair share of close calls growing up — Sam's had to scream at peeping toms through hotel windows, or weird men at gas stations who keep sizing them up while they read magazines, or — But. But they both had rules, and Dean always had an extra eye out on him. The thought of — the implication of it, it makes his blood boil, rushing in his ears. He thinks of Lilly and Leia and — Sam's been quiet too long. So Jack speaks up again. "It's alright. I don't do anything if they don't ask first. If they don't have something to give me," Jack says, confidently, and Sam wants to scream. "No," Sam manages, voice tight. "No, that's not okay. Anyone who asks something like that, they're monsters, do you understand me? They're evil, and you shouldn't trust them. Not for a second." Jack leans back more comfortably in his seat, confused — but glad. Sam's hands are itching for a blade and someone to hunt. A monster in a ring to rip into. He breathes out instead and looks at the road. It doesn't take long before Jack finds himself tired of the quiet, though, and his gaze moves to Sam's wrists, instead. His hands. The sliver of arm that peaks out under his sleeve. "What happened to your hands?" he asks, innocently. Concerned. Sam's shoulders sag, like the kid has gone and popped that balloon full of rage. "... Monsters hurt me, too," he says weakly, because he figures the kid deserves the truth. "A different kind of monster, but monsters all the same." Jack reaches over, and Sam startles at the hand cupping over his damaged knuckles. "I'm sorry," Jack says. "About the monsters." Sam kind of wants to cry, honestly. "Me, too." He was supposed to get a Christmas dinner, in and out of the store, nothing more to it. He was supposed to just give the kid some money and maybe a snack. He's supposed to just drop him off somewhere a little warmer and safer. (Leia looked at him like a hero, once, like he was going to swoop in and save her; Jack isn't looking at him like that, though; he's just a guy giving him a ride and cookies). Sam's phone rings. He doesn't need to look to know it'll say DEAN in white letters on the screen. Just a minute 'til they get to the shelter. (You're not a hero, you barely managed to protect your girls, he reminds himself.) "Sam?" Jack asks. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. (But Leia looks at him like he’s a superhero. A shaking, high, rabid superhero, hopped up on demon blood, with hands so tense and locked, they look like claws in the darkness. And beside her — a crying boy, a few years younger than her. There’s a burn on his leg, a shake of his shoulders. Worst of all, there’s skin sloughed off around him, and it’s only then that Sam realizes the boy looks different than he had an hour before. A shifter? A small, scared shifter. Like Glenda had been.) He pulls over on the side of the road. Reaches into his jacket pocket, retrieves the phone with a shaking hand. When he answers Dean and hears his brother asking nervously what's taking him so long, he can't help but look at Jack. Jack, who is looking at him with an uneasy amount of trust. How he has it, Sam's not fucking sure, but he feels like he has to do this. (He thinks of two little girls, holding hands as they watch Christmas cartoons.) "I — I'm bringing someone back with me," he manages. "His name is Jack, and he — needs a place to stay, for a little while." He does a u-turn, driving toward the bunker as snow begins to fall once again, soft, delicate. Jack looked awed, still looks awed. He looks at Sam like this was destiny. Fate. Something. "I thought so." "... You thought what?" Jack smiles slowly with that warm, gap-toothed smile. "That something about you, it felt like an angel."