#my mom also would have absolutely murdered someone if I hinted on them touching me inappropriately

[ipcearn]

There is a very different world view involved in how one is raised as biologically male or female, obviously

But I think on this today in particular when I examine how I explained how a teacher acted inappropriately to me in high school to two different friends

And how inherently male vs female view their responses were

And I don't fault either of them for it because I think that is very much a product of how we are raised to see the world when it comes to that

If it wasn't so revolving around my trauma I think I could glean something more from it but right now how vastly different those responses were to me describing the same experience is all the novelty I can gather

[echodrops]

I’m obviously late to the tumble party... but I stumbled across your Notagami Essays posts and they are absolutely Fabulous! Love your writing and the amount of detail you go into :)

So I figured you may be a good person to ask - if you just had to guess (bc as far as I know it’s never been officially confirmed?) but if you had to take a guess or give a rough estimate, how old do you think Yato was when he first met Sakura? We know he’s estimated to be at least a thousand years old, we know he’s - from the start of the series to present - estimated to be somewhere between 18 and his early 20s (physically)... but I can’t find a single thing/discussion/post/stickynote/whatever where it talks about how old he might have been when he first met Sakura - let alone the emotional/psychological effects of Sakura coming into his life and introducing healthy mindset/morals/maternal-influence etc. etc. (obviously no mom and Father’s neglect played a big role in him not knowing how inappropriate it was for him to ‘accidentally touch’ and yell “boobs!” but you can also just say he was so young he didn’t know how inappropriate that was?) My point is: how old do you think Yato was (physically anyway) at the time of their meeting? and Do you know of any discussions or care to share your opinion on how being the no more than the age of blank affected his mental/emotional understanding of Sakura teaching him a new narrative?

Sorry this is a random out of the blue ask 😅😓 if I rambled on and you don’t feel like answering, I get it, just figured it was worth asking :)

I fell down a serious rabbit hole trying to see if I could figure out the answer to this question about Yato’s age but unfortunately I’m mostly coming up empty-handed.

The answer to this question actually depends on two different pieces of information which--as far as I can remember--we’ve never actually been given for certain.

1) We would need to know when Yato was actually born.

The manga has kind of hinted at a total (not physical) age for Yato in the flashbacks which showed him as a young child during the Heian era (putting him somewhere in the vicinity of a little over 1000 years old) and Father not making masks before ~1100 years ago, but the problem is we still don’t know how many years might have passed between this scene (the youngest we’ve ever seen Yato):

And the next flashback scene, where Yato meets Nora:

If gods age normally when they are children, these two scenes might be only a handful of years apart. But if gods don’t age normally, then these two scenes could be decades or centuries apart, which leads to the other missing piece of information (under the read more to save people’s dashes):

2) We would need to know the aging process for gods who are just born/reincarnate.

Up to this point in the manga, we’ve only seen two gods reincarnate--Ebisu (who reincarnated too recently to really help answer this question) and Takemikazuchi. The implication of Takemikazuchi’s backstory is that his shinki forced him to reincarnate and then hid his reincarnation from all of Heaven. The only way they could have kept other gods from noticing that Takemikazuchi had reincarnated would have been by not allowing him to go out at all until he had grown enough to match his previous reincarnation in appearance. This seems to suggest that gods probably do age normally when they are children--hiding Takemikazuchi away for ~20 years seems a lot more likely than being able to hide him away for centuries, after all... (I also feel like I have very vague recollection of some scene in the manga where someone comments on Takemikazuchi not having been around for a “few years,” but it’s been so long since I reread I can’t recall if this is a real moment from the manga or just me misremembering.) 

Overall, however, based on what we’ve seen in the manga, my guess would be that when they’re young, after just being born or being reincarnated, gods age pretty normally. This would suggest that, for the first few years at least, the physical and mental ages of reincarnated/newly born gods actually overlap; baby Ebisu acts like a little kid because he is, in fact, both mentally and physically a little kid.

That would mean that, for all intents and purposes, Yato’s physical and mental ages lined up when he was young and meeting Sakura, and he acted like a little kid because he really was just a little kid, god or not.

(Detour for a second though: 

This line always struck me as interesting in that it might, just might, give us a more specific timeframe for Yato’s “birth”: although the constellations, of course, are visible in the sky every single year, this particular combination of concepts (kanoto-tori, yin metal rooster) is known much more commonly as one of the sixty years on the cyclical Chinese calendar, also used in Japan. Counting back on the calendar, 961 A.D. was a yin metal rooster year and would align just about right for what we know about the timeframe in which Yato later met Sakura (~970ish). Just referencing constellations doesn’t mean Adachitoka was pointing to a specific year, but it might have been another hint as to the timeframe of the flashbacks.

Okay, detour over.)

Anyway, without 100% confirmation on either of those pieces of information--when Yato was born and whether gods age at the same rate as humans after reincarnating--I don’t think it’s really possible to pin down Yato’s “real” age (physically or mentally) at the time he met Sakura. We mostly just have to estimate. 

Personally, based on his size and behavior at the time, I’d put him somewhere between seven and maybe up to ten, but the way Adachitoka draws characters kind of makes it impossible to judge their ages by appearance; Yato is about the same size as Nora when he meets Sakura, implying that he and Nora were around the same physical “age” at that time; meanwhile, Nora is later portrayed as being roughly the same age as Yukine, suggesting she was maybe 12-13ish years old when she died. So, despite being drawn tiny, it’s possible Yato was meant to be anywhere from a little kiddo (6-7) to all the way up to Nora’s age by the time he met Sakura.

But all that said, I think what you were really asking about was more the mental state Yato would have been in when he met Sakura and how his young age would have impacted his ability to change his world views, right? The answer to that is... complicated and could be approached a lot of ways. Coming from a background of working with and educating social work students, there are several common psychological theories of child development that might apply here, for example. 

I’d recommend checking out Erik Erikson’s psychosocial stages of development, though. 

(Pulled from here.)

I don’t have time to explain the entire theory with the complexity it might deserve, but the basic idea is that, as children develop, they experience a series of crises or challenges that they must overcome. Successfully overcoming each challenge results in successful psychological and social development; failing to overcome a challenge in childhood will result in long-term negative impacts later in the child’s life. (There are plenty critiques of this theory too, so don’t take this as gospel or anything--just a theory worth thinking about!)  

Given Father’s lack of interest in teaching Yato basic concepts of humanity, I would put Yato at approximately the “Initiative vs. Guilt” stage when he met Sakura. At this level of Erikson’s theory, children struggle with asserting themselves and developing a healthy sense of how their personal desires might conflict with the expectations and rules set out by others. In this stage, giving a child positive feedback for their actions teaches the child that those actions are “right,” while giving negative feedback teaching the child that their actions are wrong. In order to overcome this particular challenge, children need to begin taking initiative and aligning their actions with social standards; the child acts, and the parental figure reacts--through this process, children learn “I can do X thing but I cannot do Y thing.” 

When you hear things like “Children are cruel,” most often what people are referring to is that it takes time for children to learn empathy and to experience guilt when they cause harm to others; children do not natively understand the repercussions of their actions. It’s only through a process of testing the boundaries, of receiving praise or punishment, that children define what is “right” versus “wrong,” and begin to feel bad when they do something deemed wrong.

And this is pretty much word-for-word what we see Sakura teaching Yato.

If they have healthy role models and caretakers during this phase, children develop successfully. Successful children in this phase get their first taste of personal responsibility; unsuccessful children are (supposedly) plagued for years afterward by a sense of guilt and shame when their actions produce disapproval from everyone around them.

Yato... doesn’t exactly make it through this development stage unscathed, because he receives conflicting definitions of right and wrong from his Father an Sakura:

Which ultimately results in, years later, the Yato we know and love who still does his Father’s bidding to kill humans even though it fills him with a horrific sense of guilt:

Through his time with Sakura, I think it could also be argued that Yato moves into the next stage of Erikson’s theory as well, getting into the “Industry versus Inferiority��� crises. 

Meeting Sakura brings out Yato’s true, deep down desire as a god: to help people. (I think it’s important to note that this isn’t something Sakura teaches him--it’s a quality Yato already possessed; it was explicitly Yato’s desire to please people that led to him murdering in his father’s name.)

Once he learns what makes people happy, Yato immediately pursues that with intense focus:

The primary goal of this phase of psychosocial development is to experience a sense of confidence in one’s actions. When children practice their skills, pursue areas where they are praised, and gain new skills and aptitudes through mentoring from healthy role models, they gain confidence in their ability to excel, to fit in with peers their age, and to create meaningful things. By encouraging Yato to pursue positive behaviors--playing peacefully with other children, appreciating natural beauty, and creating useful things like boots for the needy--Sakura moved Yato toward successfully completing this phase and developing a sense of confidence in his actions and his ability to achieve positive things in the world. 

Of course, Father cannot have that (because confident children with a sense of self-worth are much more difficult to abuse), so he puts an immediate end to Sakura’s influence over Yato in the most insidious way possible: although he clearly manipulated the situation to achieve Sakura’s death, out loud, he blames Yato, implying that Sakura’s death was all Yato’s fault, the results of Yato taking unwanted action “industry” and yet failing--creating a sense of “inferiority” instead.

This, of course, haunts Yato all the way to the present, as he--again and again and again--blames himself for things outside his control or failing to live up to expectations that no one in his situation (still being manipulated) could possibly hope to get “right.” 

Finally, you could say that Sakura’s presence is Yato’s life is ultimately what sows the seeds of the manga’s main plot up to this point, with Yato’s quest to create an entirely new identity for himself as a god of fortune instead of a god of calamity. Personally, I would say that Yato is currently still in this phase of development, still working out how to define himself and who he will ultimately become once he is finally free to decide on his own path in life. It was Sakura’s gentle influence--his desire to become the kind of god who could make her smile--that eventually sparked his conflict and finally led Yato to the brink of catastrophe. If he wishes to become the god Sakura told him he could be, he can no longer suffer his father to live.

So, long story longer, I think it can be argued that Yato meeting Sakura at such a young age is EXACTLY what made it possible for him to change, and exactly what has led to his crisis in identifying himself and redefining his sense of right and wrong. 

Uhhhh... I hope that answers your question!

[wrienne]

My Cheating Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 3: First Impression

Dead silence.

The only thing reminding you that you were still alive or that time hadn’t somehow ceased was the furious beating of your heart. And of course, the fact that you could feel your face growing rapidly redder.

Life wouldn’t let you get away with such embarrassment. It was too cruel for that.

“Jungkook, isn’t she that family friend of yours?”

The guy who spoke and finally broke the spell keeping everyone paralyzed was about the same height as Jungkook. You couldn’t see his hair or much of his face, but you recognized him due to his low voice, which had enthralled a whole stadium of people just an hour and a half ago with a heart-achingly painful song. “V”, you think he had introduced himself as, sometime during the beginning of the concert.

“She is?”

The second speaker was the tallest among the group. He unhooked one side of his mouth mask from behind his left ear, revealing all of his face. You recognized him, he was the leader of the group: Rap Monster. He scratched his cheek and looked at you like you were a particularly difficult quiz.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen her face before, in the news.”

The third speaker was the shortest among the group. He had instinctively stepped forward as soon as Jungkook had cursed at you, but now relaxed. You couldn’t tell who it was but judging by his light voice, you had an idea.

Someone snapped his fingers and pulled down his mouth mask so that it bunched up beneath his chin, revealing a pointy nose and high cheekbones. “That’s right, whenever the two of you meet, you always occupy the headline of Star News.” You knew who it was, but you didn’t remember his name. Something about hope, you recalled. “Your name was…”

“(Y/F/N).” A guy almost as tall as Rap Monster chimed in. He was the only one without a mouth mask and you recognized him instantly as Jin - he had blown kisses into Min-Ji’s camera. “I knew I spotted you in the audience. You were almost in the front, right? Together with the girls with the big camera?”

Se-Eun, Min-Ji and Yeon-Woo would be overjoyed when you told them that Jin remembered them. Or well, if you were even able to. You couldn’t wrap your head around the notion that Jungkook was the visibly angry one - he looked ready to murder someone. That was supposed to be your role.

“Damn it,” Jungkook muttered, his eyes still locked onto you. “Why are you here?”

You couldn’t respond. You saw a coat too tiny and frilly to possibly fit him in the nook of his arm and a tiny, light blue designer bag dangling from his shoulder. In one of his hands, he held his phone, in the other, two plastic bottles of water.

He wasn’t wearing the engagement band.

The golden ring almost felt like it scorched the skin on your finger. You were tempted to yank it off and hurl it at his stupid face.

“Why are you cursing her out?” V asked after another moment of silence. He didn’t sound accusatory or hostile, simply deeply perplexed. You realized that he had understood that something was off with the whole situation, although he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it yet.

“Oh, so she’s the heiress of Phoenix Inc.? Honey, I thought she was a coordi-unnie!”

Up until then, Yi-Jae had remained quiet. But the way her voice wandered through her words made you frown. Why did she sound almost too innocent?

Jungkook’s eyes softened a notch when he glanced at her. You had never thought you would say or even think it but the way his gaze melted at the sight of her made you nauseous. How long had they been together? How long had he lied to your parents?

And if he loved someone else, why did he remain engaged to you?

“No,” he replied in a clipped tone. “(Y/N), if we could speak in private for a moment?”

It took you a beat before you realized everyone waited for your answer. “Okay,” you mumbled.

“We’ll wait in the car,” Rap Monster said as he patted Jungkook on the shoulder twice.

Yi-Jae left your side and hurried to Jungkook. He handed her the coat, the bag and the water, and she returned his jacket. Almost intuitively, he bent down to let her peck him on the cheek and briefly hugged her hand before letting go.

Strangely, it ached in your chest.

She put on her coat, which had a hoodie attached to it, and concealed her face and hair furthermore underneath a cap and a mouth mask. Two security guards escorted her down the hall whence you and she had arrived, most likely taking her to the other side of the stadium. Her eyes flitted over to you briefly with a curious look in them as she passed.

She had known. You were sure of it. She had played you, not the other way.

Well, at least you weren’t feeling bad for having tried to exploit her anymore.

A few security guards escorted Rap Monster and the others out of the building, together with what you guessed were the remaining staff. Someone you hadn’t noticed up until then found your gaze. His slim, dark eyes were expressionless above the white mouth mask he wore, but a shiver traveled down your spine when you realized he hadn’t spoken even once. He had simply observed. He was the seventh member of BTS, and though you couldn’t remember his name, you remembered his bone-chilling, second solo performance with a song in a completely different style than the rest of the concert. His words had felt like they physically pierced into you.

There were a few shouts and excited yelling as soon as the door to the outside opened. The guy broke away from your gaze and slipped out just after Rap Monster.

Then there would be only you two.

It took about ten minutes for the guards to shoo away the fans and allow all of the staff to leave. Ten minutes were too slight of a time frame for you to ready yourself in a confrontation against Jungkook. You stared into the worn rubber floor all that time while trying to find the right questions.

Since when? How?

Why?

As soon as the door shut and everyone was out, Jungkook stalked toward you. You glanced up just as he stopped at half an arm’s length away from you. His face was make-up free and the tips of his hair that poked out from underneath his cap were wet. He wore an unreadable expression as he crossed his arms and looked down at you. That’s when you realized he was significantly taller than you.

When had he grown up so fast?

“Why are you here?”

“I was invited by Se-Eun,” you said stiffly.

Jungkook’s eyebrows knitted together. “And it didn’t occur to you to say no?”

“Briefly,” you replied through your teeth. You couldn’t believe him. What did he have for a reason to be so angry with you? He was the wrongdoer! “But since I’ve never been to one of your concerts, I thought: ‘I might as well.' I didn’t exactly expect to run into your girlfriend in the bathroom.”

His lips twitched but he didn’t seem to be able to muster a response. His brown eyes simply held yours, cold and unrelenting.

That was enough of an answer.

“Glad to finally meet her, though,” you said and smiled, even though it pained you. “How long were you expecting to keep us apart? Up until the marriage? Or even after it?”

“Hush,” he whispered, while looking suspiciously about. “I thought we agreed on never to mention it unless we were absolutely certain nobody could hear.”

“I thought we agreed that you and I would have to marry,” you said venomously. “That’s a two-man show in this country, at least the last time I checked. Does she know about us?”

He pressed his lips tightly together as he found your eyes again. You had always secretly admired the length and fluttery softness of his eyelashes, but now even that detail disgusted you. You were almost tempted to demand that he shouldn’t look at you, but you didn’t want to let him get away from replying.

“No,” he finally said. “She-- Everyone thinks we’re merely family friends.”

“Well,” you began, feeling colder than you had all evening. “Starting from today, that won't be a lie any longer.”

Jungkook frowned and for the first time in years, you saw something akin to fear in his brown eyes. “What do you mean?”

You tore off your ring and held it up before his eyes. “I’m breaking off our engagement. I don’t-- won’t get married to a cheater-scumbag like you. You can live happily ever after with someone else, like Park Yi-Jae. Smile, Jungkook - you’ll finally be rid of me.”

“No.”

His tone was hard, his eyes were harder still. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t think it’s up to you to decide,” you said in the sweetest voice you could muster. “As soon as I tell my mom and dad--”

“Please, you can’t.”

If you hadn’t known him better, you could have sworn a hint of desperation crept into his words just then. Even his face was convincing. But you knew, Jeon Jungkook was never despairing. He was rude, cold and uncaring of you. You could now also add “rotten liar” to the list and perhaps even ���false”. He wasn’t the type of person to experience misery at you leaving him.

Right?

“You can’t break the engagement, (Y/N),” he pleaded. “Please.”

For a moment, you simply looked at Jungkook. You had spent years celebrating holidays and events with him and his parents. What would happen if you broke the engagement?

Your dad had a soft heart, and he would most likely still try to keep in touch with Jungkook’s parents. It was your mother that would cause trouble. Big trouble.

But who could blame her? Your parents and his had planned you and Jungkook's marriage practically for decades.

“I think you forced that decision for me when you chose to get romantic with another girl,” you said, surprising even yourself with how hurt you sounded.“I’m calling it off. You and I will never get married.”

You dropped the ring and began turning around when he grabbed your wrist. You glared at him over your shoulder. “Let go.”

“Not until I've had my say,” Jungkook said. “Please, (Y/N), just listen to me for a minute.”

You checked your phone. 23.11. Se-Eun and the others had waited more than half an hour for you. Were they even still outside?

Taking your silence as a cue to speak, Jungkook slowly released your wrist. “It wasn’t my intention to fall in love with her. It just happened. You can't really blame that on me.”

“You must think I'm way stupider than I am,” you hissed. You couldn't deny how much his words pained you. “Did you memorize the script of some romantic drama? Do you even hear yourself?”

He blew out a long breath through his nostrils and took off his cap to rake his fingers through his damp hair. You recognized this behavior: he was getting really frustrated. But why?

“How long have you and I known each other?” you went on when he remained silent. “How long have we known we would have to marry? I mean, I know that neither of us particularly like the other, but I at least thought we would be able to make this work. Wasn't that what you promised my parents and yours? What you and I promised each other?”

“I… I can explain,” he managed, his gaze turning sorrowful. “I just... I need some time.”

“You need time?” you exclaimed incredulously. “You know what,” you began as you backed away from him. “I don't even want to know. Live happily ever after with her or whoever else, I don't care. I'm out.”

“Are you crying?”

“No, I'm not,” you said as you instantly touched the corners of your eyes. To your dismay, your fingers came away wet. “Stay away from me, Jungkook,” you added as he started following you. “I don't really want to see you. In fact, I'm certain I never want to see your face again.”

“That’ll be difficult considering I'm an idol."

“Don't try to sound smart. You know what I mean.” You turned away from him and started walking. “I never want to see you again, Jeon Jungkook.”

[esmealux]

The Devil Doesn’t Do Children

Part: 1 / ?

Setting: About a year after 5a

Word count: 3.3K

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of death/murder (and, quite indirectly, foeticide)

Summary: Chloe is sick and Lucifer puts two and two together (with a little help from Dan).

Author’s note: This is my longest work so far. It was meant to be one long piece, but it ended up being 10.8K (!), so I’ve cut it into three parts. And just because I can’t help myself, there’s already a fourth on the way. Enjoy!

Usually, Lucifer wakes up bathed in golden dawn light and wrapped in the warmth of Chloe’s naked body. If it’s not her raucous snoring or the demanding screeches of her alarm that rouse him from his sleep, it is the press of her soft lips against his neck (or somewhere more south, if he’s particularly lucky, and he often is). But not today. Today he wakes up surrounded by darkness in her much too cold bed, and it’s neither her snores nor her kisses which break off his slumber. It’s the sound of Chewbacca being strangled in her bathroom. 

Or, he realises upon fully awakening, Chloe throwing up.

Alarmed and slightly annoyed that vomit of all things is interrupting his peaceful rest, he sits up in bed and stretches his taut body. Grabbing the nearest phone, he checks the time and groans when it says 05.26. Somewhere in his half-asleep mind, he recalls the Danish saying ‘Før Fanden får sko på’—now officially a synonym for 05.26, he thinks as he gets up and walks to the bathroom door barefoot.

‘Detective?’ he asks in a gruff voice, knocking quietly.

‘Don’t come in,’ she commands before heaving again.

He flinches. ‘Believe me, love, I wasn’t planning on it.’

It’s mostly said in jest, because if she asked him, he would be there by her side in a heartbeat. They’ve been through far too much together to care about the other’s less appetising sides. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he sees her ejecting her stomach contents, having once picked her up from an extraordinarily wild Tribe night. At least he won’t have to stick his fingers down her throat this time.

Eventually, there’s an intermission long enough for her to flush, put down the seat and open the door for him. He enters with reluctance, inspecting her warily as she sits on top of the toilet lid, her head in her hands. When she looks up at him, he gasps. ‘Oh, darling, you look positively terrible’—he leans a bit forward, assessing her ashen face—‘Abominable, really.’ Behind the thick mask of nausea and exhaustion, he thinks he sees her glare.

‘Fancy a toothbrush?’ he offers, already walking past her to find one by the sink. A hint of gratitude glints in her matte eyes as he hands it to her along with a glass of water. He smiles at her and leans against the door frame, eventually looking down to appreciate his pedicure as she rinses her mouth. ‘Is pwobably sumthin I ate,’ she mumbles around foam and toothbrush. He cocks his eye and looks up at her, scoffing. ‘You think?’ When he’d locked himself into her flat late last night after hosting an event at Lux, he’d been greeted by the sight of her and her spawn sleeping on the couch, remains of junk food cluttering up the coffee table before them. The logo on the Styrofoam had made him shake his head in disappointment and disgust. He’d cleaned it up and carried the ladies to their beds, but not before ripping one specific menu card off their fridge and tearing it to pieces. ‘I mean, it’s one thing you order garbage for yourself, but must you punish your offspring in the process? I may detest children, but even I think that’s no way to treat a child. Especially Beatrice. You do realise the men’s room at Lux are cleaner than that place, right?’

In response to his question, she pulls the toothbrush out of her mouth, lifts the lid of the toilet and, once again, disgorges her dinner.

‘My point exactly,’ he replies, before crouching down next to her to hold back her hair.

*

‘Lucifer! Did you make breakfast?!’ The doe-eyed creature shrieks as it appears from its nest, the brown, ungroomed mane falling messily around its head.

‘Good morning to you too, urchin,’ he greets her, looking up from the pot he’s stirring in to give her a half-forced smile as she takes a seat by the counter. He feels a strange itch in his hands to pull out the bar stool for her and help her up (mostly because he can’t be bothered with her tedious jumping), but to his surprise, she climbs the stool with ease—or at least not ungracefully. It tugs at something in his chest the same way it does when he occasionally is compelled to spend time with his nephew, and the babe’s already crawling, or walking, or making sounds that somewhat resemble actual words. For unfathomable reasons, it makes him feel uneasy—but mostly pleased; the sooner they grow up, the sooner they’ll stop being such pains in the-

‘Oh my God, is that bacon? And eggs? And pancakes?!’

He sighs and looks up to chide her for her unjust invocation, but swallows it when he sees her hungry, gleeful eyes. ‘Yes, here. Have some actual food,’ he tells her, nudging the plate and some cutlery in her direction. And some wet wipes, because longer limbs or not, she’s still a sticky child.

‘It’s chocolate chip pancakes!’ she exclaims upon inspecting her breakfast further, as if he didn’t already know. ‘Thank you, Lucifer. You’re the best.’ She’s beaming brightly at him now, and he feels threatened, foreseeing that she, any second, will launch her small body at him and enclose his middle, ruining his Armani suit with her greasy fingers. But she doesn’t. She just sits there and stares at him, her eyes twinkling with an emotion that looks uncannily related to one he has only ever seen in her mother’s eyes.

‘Eh,’ he breathes, his throat tightening. He looks away from her unsettling smiley face and returns his attention to the pot on the stove. ‘Well, it was the least I could do after your supposed caregiver fed you literal poison last night.’

Suddenly reminded of the Detective and her progeny’s shared meal, he turns his head to search the adolescent’s face for any signs of sickness. But she doesn’t look remotely nauseous as she devours her feed like a starving hyena cub. He quirks an eyebrow. ‘I’m guessing from your lupine appetite that you haven’t been praying to the porcelain gods like your mother?’

Beatrice’s brows knit together, her fork pausing mid-air. She (fortunately) swallows her food before she speaks, all joy in her voice suddenly gone, ‘Mom’s sick?’

‘Well, yes, but I’m positive it’ll pass soon. She just needs to… get it out of her system,’ he quickly reassures her, offering her a soft smile. The discomforting concern in the big, brown eyes slowly disappears as absolute delight takes over.

‘Does that mean you’re taking me to school?’ She asks, her small corpus barely able to contain her joy. ‘In your car?!’

He scoffs, feeling attacked. ‘As if I’d ever voluntarily drive your mum’s mind-numbingly boring example of an automobile.’ She grins at that, making a comment about how his is ‘definitely a trazillion times cooler,’ and he smiles at her, smug and victorious. ‘Exactly, child! So, yes, naturally, I will be escorting you in the corvette. But now, march off and get yourself ready while I finish this…’ he pokes around the grey goo in the pot with the wooden spoon, trying not to grimace, ‘oatmeal, for your mother. According to our friend Alexa it’s good for nauseated humans, although I highly doubt it.’

The teenager simply shrugs at that, finishes her breakfast and retreats to her burrow to get dressed. Once the porridge is done, Lucifer pours it in a bowl, puts it on a tray along with a cool glass of coke (also Alexandra’s suggestion) and carries it up to the Detective’s bedroom. He opens the door slowly as to not wake her, but the stubbornest of women is sitting on the edge of the bed, using all strength left in her depleted body to pull on her skinny jeans. Putting down the tray on the nearest surface, he darts over to her with a ‘what in Dad’s name are you doing?!’ and tugs the trousers down her legs and off her. ‘We have to go to work, Lucifer,’ she objects rather weakly, not even trying to put her jeans back on. ‘I have to go to work,’ he corrects her, carefully laying her down once he’s freed both her feet. ‘You, Detective, need to stay here and rest until you can keep it all inside you.’ He senses she’s about to protest again, so he places a kiss on her forehead and assures her, ‘Trust me, dear, everything is taken care of.’ Even as nausea has tinted her face green, she manages to narrow her eyes at him in scepticism. ‘Just promise me you’ll behave,’ she eventually mutters as she gives up and nuzzles into the blankets.

He lightly strokes her shoulder with the back of his fingers and quietly walks out of the room, leaving her with a dramatic sigh and an ‘As you wish.’

*

Daniel is already at the crime scene when Lucifer arrives after depositing the urchin. He’d thought he’d have to go through an entire day of purgatory—or paperwork, as the Detective pronounces it—and it was only worsened by the fact that he wouldn’t have his partner by his side. If she had been there, he could at least have distracted them both with some suggestive looks here, some subtle touches there, and—when he’d worked her into a frenzy of desire—a coffee break or two in the parking garage. Instead, he’d have to endure the agonising tedium on his own, even as there were, at a minimum, three hell loops he’d rather spend his time in than do paperwork at the precinct all day. But then Miss Lopez had called and informed him they’d got a new case. He’d been absolutely delighted (as delighted as it is allowed when someone has dropped dead), but only until he’d made the mistake of telling her that the Detective was home sick, and she’d said that she would ‘call Espinoza ASAP’ and tell him to meet them at the scene. If he had just kept his mouth shut, he could have got the case all to himself, instead of having Detective Douche tag along.

Taking a deep breath, he checks his cuffs and takes his time approaching the douche in question. ‘Sorry I’m late. Your spawn spent quite some time choosing the right attire,’ Lucifer offers in greeting. Daniel looks him up and down with raised eyebrows, his eyes landing on the perfectly folded crimson pocket square. ‘For a normal school day? Wonder who inspired that kind of vanity in her.’

‘Well, it certainly wasn’t her father,’ Lucifer deadpans and nods towards Daniel’s hoodie/jacket/jeans-combination.

With a humourless laugh and a shake of his head, Dan stuffs his hands in his pockets and turns on his heels to walk up the stairs and into the residential building. After bringing out his flask and taking a long swig, Lucifer follows him.

When they enter the flat, Miss Lopez is leaning over the body with her camera. The sight is oddly welcoming. Comfortably familiar. She’d only come back a week ago after being away for a little over a month, on a much-deserved vacation in New Zealand, and Lucifer had missed her cheerful spirit and their crime scene banter terribly. The latter is, much to Lucifer’s annoyance, cut short today by Daniel ‘Buzz-Kill’ Espinoza’s ‘So, Ella, what can you tell us about the vic?’

It’s a rather uninteresting case; a woman, Laura Greene, 26, has been murdered in her home. Stabbed with a kitchen knife, first in the abdomen, then the chest. No signs of B&E, no signs of struggle. A swift and impulsive act—no doubt a crime of passion according to Ella. The most obvious culprit would be an angered partner, but the roommate, who found the body, tells them the victim wasn’t in a relationship and rarely went on dates or brought anyone home. On top of that, Roomie can’t think of anyone who would hurt dear Laura. And the neighbours are just as useless; one is a deaf elder lady, and the others were chasing the dragon at the time of death. The rest of the floor haven’t heard or noticed anything either. Consequently, they have absolutely nothing once they get to the precinct. Ella goes through evidence and Daniel through piles and piles of papers, leaving Lucifer to stand awkwardly in the corner of Ella’s lab, with no desires to unveil or miscreants to threaten.

As to not die of boredom, he zooms out and lets his mind wander. He’s in the middle of designing a strategy for how to make Chloe finally agree to try the deliciously sinful position he considers one of his favourites when Ella’s frustrated sigh interrupts his planning.

‘Something troubling you, Miss Lopez?’ he asks her, pulling out his flask.

She tells him she has nothing. No match on the fingerprints from the murder weapon, no useful surveillance tapes, no clues at the scene that can tell her the gender, age, or occupation of the murderer. Nada. Just the fact that it was done in a moment of heat.

Before Lucifer can answer, Dan walks in with a puzzled look on his ill-favoured face, his arms filled with highlighted printouts. ‘Could she’ve been pregnant?’

Ella tilts her head. ‘I mean, it’s not impossible, but based on what her roommate told us, I wouldn’t bet my money on it. You know, because our girl Laura had no boy toyz.’

Lucifer can’t hold back a snort. ‘Please, Miss Lopez, all it takes is a boy toy, singular, ten minutes in a bathroom stall and the absence of contraceptives.’

Dan looks at him with disgust and horror before shaking his head and returning his attention to Ella. ‘Well, no,’ he answers her, ignoring Lucifer’s comment entirely, ‘but then I thought about the other thing her roommate said, about Laura throwing up during the past weeks, and I thought-’

‘But Michelle said she thought it was an eating disorder, like Laura’d had before,’ Ella interrupts him, looking to Lucifer for support. He just purses his lips and looks back. Truth be told, when they’d been talking to the roommate, the mentioning of vomit had reminded him of his feeble Detective at home and he’d excused himself to send her a text. He therefore hadn’t heard whatever explanation the woman had offered (nor her arguments for why the victim’s sickness would be relevant to them). Fortunately, Dan answers.

‘Yeah, I know, I thought that too, but then I saw she paid a bill to an OB-GYN earlier this month, and it could just be a gynaecological check-up or something, but then I remembered how badly Chloe suffered from morning sickness when she was pregnant with Trixie, so I…’

Lucifer stops listening as Daniel’s words—one in particular—suddenly whirl around him, loud and ominous. His heart starts pounding faster and his throat goes dry. He instinctively grips the edge of the lab table.

‘Surely there could be other explanations,’ he manages to get out, interrupting his co-workers’ discussion. ‘Food poisoning, for instance.’

Dan and Ella look at him with equally sceptical looks. ‘Not for ten days straight,’ Ella argues.

‘But there is a myriad of reasons for a woman to throw up,’ he defends as he starts frantically googling. ‘Indigestion, stomach bug, chemotherapy, motion sickness… aha, migraine!’

When Lucifer looks up from his phone, Daniel is looking at him like he’s questioning his sanity. Miss Lopez seems concerned too, but more in an ‘dude, you okay?’-way than anything else.

Ella slowly takes her eyes off Lucifer’s face and eyes Dan shortly. ‘Well, we can’t know for sure before we get the final results from the autopsy, but from what Dan has found, she could quite possibly be pregnant.’

‘But,’ Lucifer objects, barely audibly, like someone has knocked the wind out of him, ‘she can’t be.’ He’s staring out into empty air, unwelcome images suddenly flooding his mind, as Daniel and Miss Lopez continue talking. He’s on the verge of what he thinks might be a panic attack when a voice, her voice, drags him out of his own head.

‘Hey guys,’ she greets them. She’s hoarse and looks a little tired, but the green tinge is gone.

‘Detective,’ is what he manages to say back. She looks at him with soft eyes and it’s enough for him to come back to his senses for a moment. Surprised by her presence, he begins to ask, ‘Are you done-’

He was going to say ‘puking your guts out’ but she widens her eyes at him and cuts him off, ‘Having a bad headache? Yes, thank you, Lucifer. I just needed some rest.’

‘Right,’ he mumbles, giving her one slow nod. She walks over to stand close beside him and brushes her fingers against the back of his hand, somehow sensing that he’s tense. 

‘Okay, what have we got?’ She looks to Dan and Ella and lets go of Lucifer’s hand. He instantly misses her touch.

They fill Chloe in, telling her about everything from the lack of leads to small, seemingly insignificant details. When she’s completely up to date, she has that look on her face, eyes slightly narrowed, like she has a (historically, clever) theory.

‘Well,’ she begins, still visibly thinking, ‘it does take two to tango.’ She side-eyes Lucifer, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. It’s clear she expects a remark or a praising grin in return, and he tries, but it comes out as a grimace and a strained ‘eh’. She gives him a funny look before continuing her theory, ‘What I mean is, boyfriend or not, there’s still a father out there. Maybe he found out and couldn’t handle the news? Maybe he was married to someone else? Or… he just didn’t want to be a dad?’

Lucifer feels his heartbeat speed up once again. An odd emotion he can’t quite name spreads in his chest. It feels like a disease.

‘Sure seems like motive, but how are we gonna find him?’ Dan asks. Not one second later, Miss Lopez’ ‘found him!’ sounds from where she’s leaning over her computer. ‘Tech just got access to her photos —kinda tricky since she had this super secure lock-’

‘Who is he, Ella?’ Chloe demands.

Ella clicks on the screen and turns the computer around so they can see. ‘The guy’s everywhere in her camera roll. I don’t know, he seems kinda familiar, but-’

‘That’s Max Steinfeld!’ Dan exclaims when he sees the photo. It’s taken in bed, post-orgasm Lucifer would say, judging from the blissful aura. Laura’s got a hand on the man’s chest who, indeed, is the chap who starred on that horrible teenage comedy show and today is trying to redeem himself by doing mediocre action movies and… settling down with Hollywood’s sweetheart. 

‘But he’s dating Simone Riley,’ Lucifer enlightens his colleagues upon his revelation. ‘They’re tying the knot this spring.’

Chloe shoots him a questioning look, and he tells her he got a mani-pedi the other day. She nods her head in understanding.

‘Well, if he’s engaged, he probably wasn’t ecstatic when Laura told him she was pregnant with his baby.’

As she asks Dan to get the actor’s current location all Lucifer can do is stand there and stare at her, as if he might find the answers to the thousands of questions in his head written on the side of her face. But he doesn’t. He only finds the familiar beauty mark, a perfectly pointed eyebrow, and the smooth, marble-like skin of the woman he loves. And it makes him yearn for those answers even more.

Part II  |  Part III  | Part IV (coming soon)

[yaboylevi]

Hi! I love ur blog, especially ur Snk Metas and Ereri metas. What are your thoughts on the whole “Eren has always been like this” (always been evil or capable of great evils like genocide) that a lot of people seem to agree on? I’ve always had a hard time believing in that idea because we’ve been shown multiple times that Eren is capable of sympathy and empathy, so to say he’s ALWAYS been like this is wrong.

Hi! Thank you!!

Looking through my snk 121 tag I found that I have already received similar questions, so I’m gonna link one here if you want the short version of it. Even if it was something I wrote up right after the chapter was out, it’s not like my opinion has changed much... more like, my faith in Isayama writing a decent conclusion and explanation in regards to Eren has plummeted in the past year and a half.

But anyway, now we have some new information pertaining Eren, so I feel like I can add more on this moment and my take on it in light of such new perspective.

Let me preface this with: Eren hates what he’s doing, is despising every second, was scared of his future visions, often paralyzed, desperate to find a better solution than this, because he knows - let me repeat it - HE KNOWS this is horrifying. We had hints throughtout the story, but many have ignored them. For me, Eren going through grief and apologizing for something he hadn’t even done yet in chapters 131 was no shocker at all, but I guess some people may have actually been surprised, I don’t know. It was right there since the Marley arc and his breakdown over Sasha, but many have completely misinterpreted that scene, denying it was desperation that he was feeling, so it was nice to finally have confirmation. Kinda.

However, you know, Isayama doesn’t seem to have picked a side on his characterization of Eren. Or maybe there is still something that’s concealed, because everything we have seen, isn’t evething that has happened, and it doesn’t explain yet some things about Eren and, relevant to this post, why Eren has decided to give up and give in to his future self’s memories of destruction. I’m sorry, but Eren believing “there is no other way, other than killing the whole world’s population, because the future cannot be changed” due to some memories is not gonna cut it, especially because we haven’t seen him fight too hard against it. In my opinion, at least. Or maybe he did, but we haven’t been shown.

The most hopeful part of my heart wishes he is already trying to change things, in a very roundabout and secret way, but the tired and logical part is done hoping. After all, Eren is alternating between being hellbent on going through with rumbling the world, and being absolutely horrified by it. I’ve been getting whiplash every month for a couple of years now.

As for your actual question, and that line during the Paths Time Travel...

Let’s start from here, shall we? That whole conversation with Zeke in Paths was to Zeke what chapter 112 was to Mikasa and Armin, imo. Chapter 121, huh, same numbers...but anyways. I think I have already wrote it somewhere, but I believe Eren lied, and purposely hurt Zeke. To make him, and Mikasa and Armin, realize something and act accordingly, maybe against Eren himself.

In Mikasa’s case, the realization was gradual since then, because Eren’s lies kickstarted it immediately. In Armin’s case, I think we still haven’t seen the full potential of it, though it may come next chapter - and I mean the “You were influenced by Bertolt, an enemy” angle. I am surprised Armin hasn’t followed this reasoning in regards to Eren, who has three titans within him, none of them particularly allied with Paradis. We left Armin seeing Bertolt, who is, in turn, watching him. I wonder if a conversation won’t happen right off the bat in chapter 136.

Anyhow, Eren, in chapter 112, also very much hit Armin and Mikasa where it hurt them the most - which is the same thing he did to Zeke here, bringing up his hate for Grisha and how it was the only think really fuelling him, and went through all the effort of making him reconcile with Grisha. Mmm, sus. Am I the only one feeling it’s sus??? I really have to wonder if he doesn’t kind of want/need Zeke to stop him, just like I believe he did with Armin and Mikasa. After all, there was no need to antagonize them and make them have reasons to stop caring for him, if he didn’t want to be stopped.

So, if it wasn’t already clear, Eren is a big liar, and he’s good at it if you don’t know him (and Zeke, Armin, and Mikasa have proven they don’t know or understand him very well at times). His acting skills have been shown all the way back in the cabin scene when he was 8 years old and tricked those traffickers.

There is another layer to these lies that I’d like to touch upon, though.

The line you were inquiring about feels exactly like his “I am free” in chapter 112. He sounds so sure, but it is a freaking lie.

See how both Armin and Mikasa are confused by such a bold, out-of-the-blue statement, the same way Zeke asks Eren “Since birth?” because, like, what is that all even about?

Eren has been feeling trapped in his own future memories to the point that his freedom of choice even existing anymore has become a big question mark. There is no freedom in following the path you were shown.

Eren’s urge to save someone from “having their freedom solen” by “physically assaulting the perpetrators first” has never, ever meant that he was willing to or okay with sacrificing innocents. Quite the opposite, in fact. There have been whole arcs about that. About Eren freaking out over people dying for him, refusing to sacrifice friends for the bigger picture, grieving for or sympathizing with innocents losing their lives or having them destroyed by some bigger threat. That has not changed.

So the big question remains: Why?

With these outrageous and confident statements about himself, I don’t think Eren is merely lying to his interlocutor to change their perception of him. I think he is lying to himself as well in the meantime. It looks like it did the trick, or not - based on how you want to interpret it. He really has been dissociating hard during his rampage.

But it all depends on what Isayama's angle is with Eren. In 112 Eren seemed to believe his “I am free” statement because he had an instant reaction to Armin challenging it. At the same time, now that we also have chapter 130-131 to enrich our reading, there is no way Eren felt free into the choices he made after hearing Willy’s declaration of war. He saw a terrifying future, he hoped against hope that it would change, but felt powerless and gutted and desperate that all pointed to such a future being unchangeable. So I do wonder if maybe he didn’t end up lying to himself - subconsciously or not - that he is free... and that he is always been this way - a cold-blooded murderer who did it all for justice.

Zoom in on Eren forlornly watching himself as a kid show pure kindess to a girl who just went through the most traumatizing experience in her life.

For the matter, I don’t believe Eren “has always been this way”. I actually don’t believe he’s ever been that way. I don’t know why many(?) people just accept whatever Eren says at face value, ignoring all context surronding it.

As I posted very recently, it doesn’t make sense for Eren to go from one extreme to the other without a better excuse, or explanation, or a more believable writing of it...or a plot twist that I guess I will wait for for another 4 months:

Eren came to realize that outside the walls people are just...well, people. There are good ones everywhere, people who suffered just like him, people who deserve better, certainly don’t deserve to be caught up in the Rumbling, people who have lives, children, moms, loved ones. This is highlighted again in chapter 131, because maybe, when Eren brought it up in the basement with Falco and Reiner, people didn’t think he was being genuine. So Isayama shows us again that Eren truly believed that.

And yet, the chapter before, Eren put those very same people on the same level of Titans when he used to think Titans were scum, a nightmare sent to eat them alive, because he addressed them with “匹”, a derogatory counter when applied to people, because it is usually used for small animals.

The parallel to how he used to feel towards Titans is smacked in our faces, because in Japanese, it’s the same exact line. He now feels that way about people.

...What?

It doesn’t make sense, right?

Because really, the same way Eren’s first impulse in Marley was to save Ramzi when he was being beaten up (and threatened with a worse fate than some bruises), the same way Eren helped him regardless and again went against 3 full-grown men, it’s the same way Eren rushed to Mikasa’s rescue when he didn’t even know her... or the same way he pushed himself into a Titan’s mouth just to save Armin. it doesn’t come from a sentiment of “I need to punish these monsters because they are threatening me”. It comes from a natural, intrinsic need to help and save others. It is deeply saddening that at the end of this journey, with Ramzi, he just feels like this natural predisposition of his is just a fake and turns him into a hypocrite.

So for Eren to say he has always been that way while looking at his 8 years old self stabbing a human trafficker in the chest to save a little girl to try and explain why he’s killing innocent people who happens to be living alongside “the bad guys” is a false equivalence. Either it’s a lie Eren tells himself and to Zeke to make both of them believe this is what Eren is, and has always been, and there is nothing they could do to prevent it - in a sort of twisted liberation from guilt because “if I was always like this, then you and I both shouldn’t have expected anything different”...

...or it’s Isayama’s failed attempt at presenting a theoretical concept he liked and talked about in interviews, suddenly turning Eren into a poster boy for it and canceling previous sides of Eren’s complexity as a character. I would like to believe Isayama hasn’t lost his magic touch this badly, but every day I’m less sure of it.

My opinion, for what is worth, is that that line you quoted is something he said to trick Zeke into detaching himself from Eren and going against him - breaking the bonds of love all around him has been a very deliberate choice Eren has made post time-skip - and at the same time it’s something Eren is trying to believe himself, in a desperate attempt at explaining to his own conscience that he was destined to bring such destruction, that he was always capable of it, and that there is a sort of justice in it where there isn’t. And he knows, deep down. That’s why he dissociates in the end.

In a very twisted, self-deprecating way, Eren is a liar to everyone, himself included. He has become an unreliable narrator about himself. Eren has completely shut down because he cannot stand what he is doing.

And I would very much like to know why he gave up on trying to find a different solution, if that’s what it is that happened, and why he sounds like a different person every other scene he appears in, in the next 4 months.

[thejustmaiden]

I'm not against SessRin as the ship itself, rather I'm against the idea of it being canon. I wouldn't even care if InuYasha was of a more mature genre. Yes, the trope is very popular even in hentai, yaoi and yuri. However, all of these genres are explicitly for adults - the type of audience that are well capable of seperating between fiction and real life, knowing what's wrong and right. Yasahime's still cleary targeted at a younger audience - kids that can still be easily affected by fiction.

Hey, nonnie! I really appreciate the ask. Apologies for the slight delay. 😊

I read what you had to say, and I think you bring up a very valid point that I don't see being discussed enough quite honestly.

Because you're right, Inuyasha is geared towards a younger audience. That explains why it was the very first anime for many of us growing up.

Ironically enough, some of you who like me stayed up late to catch it on TV remember that Inuyasha came out on a network called "Adult Swim" of all things. haha (I gather that had more to do with the occasional foul language than anything else.) Cartoon Network- what Adult Swim is known as during the daytime- shows children's programs and Inuyasha wouldn't have been exactly appropriate on there either.

Now let's take a quick look at the other anime shows I remember that would come out on the line-up along with Inuyasha. Cowboy Bepop and Ghost in the Shell are the first two that come to memory. If you aren't familiar with those, readers, I encourage you to look them up and see how they're described in comparison to Inuyasha. They both tackle some pretty dark and heavy adult themes. Inuyasha, on the other hand, is based off a shonen manga aimed at young teens, boys specifically.

I'm not personally familiar with the yaoi and yuri genres myself, but from what I do know, a lot of their stories center around sexual romance and homoeroticism. Inuyasha may include some romance, but by no means does the author insert explicitly sexual elements into her story. Fans who are mature to handle that kind of content can if they so choose to-- bring on the fan fiction and fan art! But can the series itself be justified in doing so? Well, I hope not since the average Inuyasha viewer is only just a teenager.

You're correct, fiction is capable of influencing and shaping how some kids learn to view and make sense of certain events. I'm going to give you a real life example here. Keep in mind, readers, that this is an extreme case that obviously wouldn't apply to everyone or every situation. The purpose of recounting this tale is to demonstrate that young minds are more vulnerable to the influences around them, be them real or imagined.

Years ago there used to be this internet urban legend called "The Slender Man." In 2014, these two 12-year old girls (so roughly the same age many of us started watching Inuyasha) became obsessed with this fictional character and wanted to prove to everyone he existed. In order to do that, they made up their minds to kill one of their classmates to please him. They ended up stabbing the victim numerous times, but she somehow miraculously survived. The two girls who were found guilty of this crime ended up being admitted into mental health institutions. Please feel free to read up more on this yourself. It sounds creepy, I know, but how the community came together to support the victim and her recovery was a touching ending to such a horrific story.

Like I already mentioned, this was an extreme case that almost resulted in murder. Death, however, isn't the only bad outcome that can occur. Child abuse in all its complex forms is a serious outcome, too. It should go without saying that no child watching Inuyasha should accept the idea of a young girl (like themselves but maybe younger) being pursued later once she's "old enough" by the same male authority figure who was her main protector during their travels. You could tell Rin felt legitimately safe and happy for the first time in a long time while in his company. I also like to wonder if that's because Sesshomaru reminded her of someone she knew before her family was killed. But who really knows? After all, kids are very trusting by nature. Let's be honest, the happy-go-lucky Rin would've followed just about anyone who saved her! It just happened to be Sesshomaru, which of course I'm grateful for. So tell me again, why does this protector-ward dynamic they've got going on need to turn romantic?

Seriously, why are viewers expecting a romance to happen anyway? It's not like we have been given any solid indication to suggest that these two are destined for it. Allow me to explain why I believe that is. Sessrin fans anticipate a romance in their future despite the lack of foreshadowing, because this trope IS popular. (But only in series geared towards adults- like you said, nonnie.) In other words, it's been so engrained in our minds that it's a completely normal direction we should come to expect a relationship between an older man and a young girl/woman to take. So even though it hasn't been hinted at much if at all, it's apparently bound to happen regardless.

A young woman who decides to be with an older man isn't the issue here, BUT there's a fine line and at times the stories we tell will tread that line and test its boundaries. Case in point: shipping Sesshomaru with "Adult Rin" although we've only met and gotten to know her as a young girl up until now. In many instances, adult!Rin supposedly only has to mean she's old enough to bear children. If it was the norm for a girl to have kids at 15 or 16 in Feudal Japan, then that must mean we should not only tolerate it but celebrate it too, right?

Yes, fiction is a creative outlet to explore and push the boundaries from time to time, but we must be careful of what messages we're sending and who the target audience is. Would it really be wise to portray in a positive light a teenage girl getting pregnant with one of the people who helped raised her's babies on a show for teens? That's not my idea of a wholesome family lesson I'd ever want to teach my kids or have them learn elsewhere.

What we're essentially doing is telling the young Inuyasha viewers that it's totally normal to sexualize and romanticize a young girl's future without her say. That it's okay to speak for her and decide that's what her character would want even if we haven't met this adult version of her yet. What about Rin's hopes and dreams? How about we wait to see how she is as a grown-up first before we come to such big conclusions. Wouldn't you say you're jumping the gun a bit, shippers?

Nobody is saying you can't picture it, alright, but to claim it's the only obvious progression- because evidently there must be one for some reason?- of the relationship Rin's formed with Sesshomaru is absolutely absurd. If that's the case, then basically all the other "who's Sesshomaru's baby mama" theories are just as plausible as yours if not more so.

Also, guys, we really ought to stop stating that Sesshomaru will never have the capacity to care for another human being besides Rin like it's a fact. I'm aware that to many the appeal of this ship is that she was the first one to break through that icy exterior of his, so that must translate to a love that transcends and what not. If she wasn't a child he guarded like his own first and foremost, then this ship could have potential. That's not the case though, so moving right along!

Right, so who says his affection towards humans has to stop at Rin? Why can't the mom- if there is a mom- be some new character? That's really not reaching- yes, even for Sesshomaru. Knowing Rin, she's probably the one who introduced them! Plus, it's not like we don't have other canon sources that already show us Sesshomaru coming to the aid of humans. He has saved and protected Kagome on a few occasions that we know of so far, as well as Kohaku. And no, he didn't just protect him because Rin asked him to. Perhaps that was why he did at first, but please give Sesshomaru credit where credit is due. He is not the cold heartless demon we once believed him to be. How else do you think he is capable of activating Tenseiga's powers? Yeah, no, Sesshomaru grew to care for that kid, and Kokahu wouldn't have stuck around him for as long as he did if he didn't believe Sesshomaru didn't have his best interests at heart. Well, in Sesshomaru's own special little way that is. 😆

I got a little sidetracked- my bad! I suppose it's all relevant when you think about it. Alrighty, nonnie, I hope I adressed your ask the way you wanted. Please feel free to drop by again! 🖖

Reminder: Do not plan to engage in discourse on this blog if you are going to be disrespectful. The views I'm expressing aren't "an attack," so there's no need to get defensive and aggressive. I've even had a few Sessrin shippers themselves tell me I make valid points and that I do it in an upright manner. So if you don't believe me, then maybe you'll believe them. Thank you!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 250: Why Is This Family Not in Therapy

Previously on BnHA: Fuyumi invited everyone over to Camp Todovid for a wholesome family meal because what could possibly go wrong. Kacchan and Deku proceeded to spend the evening blinking distress signals at each other in Morse code while Natsu shoved breadsticks into his purse and skedaddled after getting mad at Endeavor in a completely unexpected turn of events which absolutely no one could have foreseen. After dinner, Shouto had a heart to heart with Fuyu (and then Deku) about whether or not he was ready to forgive his dad, and meanwhile Endeavor said a prayer for his very dead son Touya. Poor Touya. He was such a nice boy. You know what he really used to like? Messenger bags. He’d put the oddest things in them, too. I wonder if Touya would still enjoy collecting strange and disturbing things in bags if he was still alive today. Alas. We’ll never know.

Today on BnHA: Some guy named Takami who just got out of prison decides to show up out of the blue and fucking kidnap Natsuo because WHY NOT. But before that happens, we get a nice scene of Kacchan and Deku sitting down with Shouto and Fuyu, who finally decide it’s high time they talked about THEIR SECRET DEAD BROTHER seeing as LET’S BE REAL, THAT WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS DINNER TO BEGIN WITH. So basically, (1) he’s definitely dead! For sure! 100% deceased!, and (2) Natsuo apparently blames Endeavor for his death, lol no big. Deku and Kacchan are for some reason super fucking chill about hearing this, and then Endeavor comes over and is all “TIME TO HEAD BACK” and omg I’ve never hated him more. And then as they’re driving away from Todofield Hall, Takami shows up and is all “HEY ENDEAVOR LOOK I KIDNAPPED YOUR CHILD AND I’M GONNA KILL HIM!” and holy shit but Horikoshi is just fucking with us now, though.

(As always, all comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity afterward, and added some  ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

all right manga, do your worst. I’m completely spoiler-free on this one. watch it not even be a flashback, after all of that lmao

(ETA: lol I read these two asks after I read the chapter and they’re pretty great:

honestly this week wasn’t that bad, though! the worst part of it was the whole “only 13 pages again” thing honestly. next week, though, it looks like we’ll be in for some fun times. oh goodness.)

so it appears night has fallen on Todofield Hall, and hoooooooooly shit you guys, are they. are they all gonna have a sleepover at Shouto’s house, because fdszllk I. I’m gonna. ldskfjla

(ETA: [kicks Endeavor in the shins] why do you hate fun!?)

who is talking?? are these prison stripes??

so is this the Takami guy narrating, then? just like we all predicted last week. ???

(ETA: so I saw all these people going “wtf is this Hawks’s dad??” and I was like “lol what” and it took me longer than I’d like to admit to put two and two together, but anyways, long story short, “Takami” just so happens to be Hawks’s recently revealed surname (with the same kanji and everything -- 鹰見). so while every instinct in my body is screaming at me “gtfo no way they’re related”, it is an extremely bizarre coincidence, so uh. ?? I got nothin’, basically.)

WHAT THE FUCK

IS THIS GUY STALKING THE TODOROKI HOUSE. ABOUT TO BREAK INTO TODOFELL IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT WHILE MY CHILDREN ARE ASLEEP!? CAN THEY JUST NOT CATCH A BREAK

also I will never understand villains who get all smug about being captured alive. “your one mistake was not killing me when you should have!” like okay, so you’re admitting you’re a piece of shit who should have died, and that the hero totally could have done it, but they were nice enough not to so SHAME ON THEM, apparently

anyways I really don’t understand what’s going on at all lol. some guy looked up to Endeavor and then got himself captured by him for some reason. let’s continue I guess

oh lord it keeps getting creepier

-- oohhhhhhhh shiiiiiiit, is this fucker about to air Endeavor’s dirty laundry?? is that what this is about?

AHHHHH

NATSU SWEETIE WHERE ARE YOUR SELF-PRESERVATION INSTINCTS?? IT IS NOT SAFE! and also what the fuck, does Endeavor just not have any security in his home at all? surely he must, if for no other reason than the fact that HE HAS KIDS and he’s not always at home! I have to imagine that any pro hero with a family understands that they’re a potential target for villains and would take precautions. I wonder if we’re about to see this sneaky guy get wrecked

(ETA: nope, Endeavor really has no security whatsoever and Natsu got snatched while waiting outside for his Uber. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he was too busy missing his brother and being sad to remember that he actually has a quirk himself. c’mon Natsu.

-- actually, come to think, props to Horikoshi for once again bucking the trend and having a guy be the one who gets kidnapped and becomes the damsel in distress. I’m just going to assume that had Fuyu been the one to get captured, Endeavor wouldn’t have even heard about it until he received a text from her with a picture of the guy encased in ice and a caption asking “so dad, uh, what should I do with this?”)

BUT FIRST, WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE TODOROKI KITCHEN, WHERE TODOBAKUDEKU ARE CURRENTLY HAVING TEA WITH FUYU BECAUSE SOMEBODY UP THERE LIKES ME YESSSSS

hhhglkohhhhh myyyyy godddddd

I KNOW!!! WHAT’S WITH THAT! WE’VE WAITED 250 FUCKING CHAPTERS PUTTING UP WITH YOUR SLY-ASS HINTS ALL “ALL RIGHT THEN, KEEP YOUR SECRETS” but is it finally time now? IS IT??!

Shouto says it’s not exactly an easy topic to bring up, and okay, fair. buuuut also, this is the same child who ambushed Deku in a corridor back when they barely knew each other and was all “let me tell you all about my dad’s quirk marriage and how he abused me and my mom and how I got this scar” so like. what exactly do you consider “easy to bring up” though

OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENINGGGGGGG

we’re getting DETAILS. ABOUT. TOUYA’S PAST fkdslfh holy motherfucking shitballs someone pinch me

she says it happened right after Rei got hospitalized, which yeah, we all figured based on the middle school uniform in the photo. so that definitely pins down his age then, doesn’t it? Shouto was six when that happened, so if Touya was in middle school he’d have been between 12 and 15. so it’s very likely then that he was 14, the exact same age as Fuyu, so therefore THE TWIN THEORY IS CONFIRMED! WE DID IT TUMBLR

anyways back to being sad though, because

can someone please hug this child?? what are you all even doing?! do you not see his face?? jesus christ

oh no oh my god are you serious are you

okay, before I go on to the next panel and commence FREAKING THE FUCK OUT, I need to stop here though, because the thought that the Todos actually were in the process of healing nine years ago and could have potentially been spared years of additional pain had it not been for this tragedy is. just. I fucking can’t. I need a minute here. god

anyway. so now on to the freaking out though, because

:) :))) :))))))) huh. you don’t say

(ETA: hmm in hindsight I promised freakouts and then all I did was go “:)” but please understand that the “:)” conveys so much more inner freaking out than words could possibly communicate. just picture me screaming and waving my arms around like a Kermit the frog gif okay.)

look at this you guys. this revelation is so stone cold fucking sober that it even got Katsuki to make an actual normal face for the first time in god knows how many chapters, wow

by the way, words can hardly express how much I appreciate that Katsuki is sitting here chilling out drinking tea with the rest of them and listening to this tale of woe and empathizing like a normal, well-adjusted person, though. I will never take that for granted. thank you character development gods. y’all are bros

anyways the face in question that Natsu was making is so fucking sad, and just. THEY ALL NEED HUGS. why is this family not in therapy

NO!!!!!!!!!!!

YOU SON OF A BITCH!! JUST LIKE THAT YOU’RE RIGHT BACK ON MY SHIT LIST, ENDEAVOR!! CHRIST ALMIGHTY ARE YOU SERIOUS, SO WE’RE REALLY JUST GONNA LEAVE OFF THERE? “LOL SO YEAH, NATSU STILL THINKS DAD KILLED OUR BROTHER AND THAT’S WHY ALL THE TENSION” and Deku and Kacchan just nod like that is in any way a satisfying explanation rather than an INCREDIBLY OMINOUS STATEMENT which only goes and raises about A BILLION MORE QUESTIONS OMG. “oh okay, so he hates your dad because he thinks that he murdered your mysterious other brother we’re only just now hearing about. say no more. no further context necessary” fucking -- 

listen, you two. where the fuck are your investigative skills?? SOME SCOOBY SQUAD YOU ARE!!

oh my goodness gracious

listen guys, things I was not expecting to check off my character development bucket list today: Katsuki joining the Fuyumi fanclub and bonding with her over recipes. I wasn’t even aware that was on my list. BUT IT SURE WAS, AND IT’S CHECKED NOW AND I LOVE IT

also love that Shouto tells Fuyu to just text the recipe to him, and then he will share it with Katsuki. because they are best friends

also Deku is the only one here with any manners at all but oh well. we all been knew

(ETA: though to be fair, Katsuki asking for the recipe is about as big a compliment as one can give to a chef, and it kind of serves as a combination “thanks for the meal” and “everything was really good” tbh. shit, now I want her recipe.)

fdlkjfg

... [reaches out to gently touch the panels] so soft

-- BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S EVEN SOFTER?

[faint sound of my heart imploding] ah

oh my god his face

and Katsuki’s face too. boy are you jealous. to think you were all “WHY THOUGH!?” coming here, only to walk away from it all with a kickass new mapo tofu recipe as well as a new person to add to your secret list of people you would literally die for. awwwwwww

and Shouto. omg. this is the most bashful panel I’ve ever seen. what a blessed chapter

anyway so now they’re all driving away (back to school?? I think he said?) and Endeavor’s talking to them about their upcoming schedule. so I guess they are heading back to school, then

anyway so he wants them to work the weekend as well as two weekdays? damn that’s a lot of class to be missing, he’s asking them to skip literally half the school week (since they have Saturday class too)

wow you guys look at this panel

takeaways from this: 1.) I honestly would have thought Deku would be the one tutoring other people in English, if anything. as of the midterms, he was above Shouto in academic rankings, but more importantly he’s also the biggest All Might fan on the planet, and All Might spent a lot of time in America in his youth and presumably speaks decent English himself, so you’d think Deku’s English would be passable just from his obsession alone. but I guess you just can’t beat that fancy private school education

and the other takeaway: Katsuki doesn’t like being squished in the backseat of a cramped Japanese car with Deku and Shouto. this one is absolutely shocking. I’m gonna need a moment to process this for sure. anyways poor Deku, he’s probably getting so many elbows to the ribs right now. I hope he elbows back

(ETA: actually the fact that Katsuki is apparently sticking his head out the window here in addition to complaining about the cramped conditions makes me wonder if he’s actually getting carsick. my poor baby do you need some dramamine.)

guys, meet Endeavor’s chauffeur

so anyway this is a bit sudden but I have a new favorite character now. life is funny like that. does he remind anyone else of Major Armstrong

wow Endeavor is answering the question seriously

okay but shit, I really fucking love this answer, though. he’s so matter-of-fact about it. because the thing is, the question isn’t really “when did you start baby-sitting a bunch of kids”; it’s “when did you actually start caring about something other than yourself?” and the answer is that it happened when he finally reached the top and realized the responsibility that went hand in hand with that role. it forced him to finally look past just himself, and to think about what it really means to be a hero. shit, I feel another essay coming on, but it’ll have to wait for some other time lol. we still have to see if Natsu’s going to make it out of this alive

anyway so now Armstrong is chuckling and saying that status really does change people huh, and they’re driving on into the night

OH SHIT

THAT’S A NICE SON YOU’VE GOT THERE, ENDEAVOR. IT WOULD BE A SHAME IF SOMEONE... okay you know what, I’m not sure where I was headed with that joke, but in any case I can’t finish it because this isn’t funny at all actually, this is actually SO FUCKING BAD oh shit oh shit

NATSUUUUU

oh no he’s so scared oh fuck. fuck. he’s only 19, he’s just a kid still. god. why do I always get so worked up over these parts. what am I doing reading a shounen manga if I can’t handle seeing kids in peril. HORIKOSHI PLEASE BE KIND TO MY BABIES

holy shit

okay, is this implying that Katsuki was sticking his head out of the window in that previous panel?? I realize more important things are happening and this is hardly the time to dwell on this, but jesus christ my kid is out here trying to get himself decapitated. boy what is wrong with you

anyway so now something is going "pop” and I have no idea. ??

(ETA: lol I guess it was Endeavor? you know, how Endeavor sometimes just goes “pop” for no reason. that’s just the sound someone makes when spontaneously bursting into flames.)

oh

far be it from me to start whipping out analogies about a mama bear and her cubs, but. damned if that ain’t what’s happening though. motherfucker, you mess with his kids? so would you like to die fast, or slow

so now some weird fucking shit is happening to the car, and I guess it’s this guy’s quirk again?

wow my man, so you’re really attacking the car with the three protagonists with SOMETHING TO PROVE in the backseat. you really do have a death wish

(ETA: on top of that, attacking the car mere minutes before the winter break ends, and with it, the deadline for “defeating a villain quicker than Endeavor.” HMMM anybody got some popcorn?)

now Endeavor is shouting “LET HIM GO!” because that’s what superheros shout when someone is being kidnapped

lol poor Natsu looks kind of awkward now

like, don’t get him wrong, he’s still scared for his life. but also he’s starting to get a bit of that same feeling that Katsuki and Deku were getting in the last chapter, like he’s suddenly found himself right in the midst of some grade A melodrama from which there is no escape. anyways don’t mind him, he’s just going to chill here in this big pile of bandages and see where this goes

so Endeavor is all “........... YOU’RE FROM SEVEN YEARS AGO!” and honestly that’s impressive. I guess the quirk is a pretty memorable one, though

wow now they’re suddenly being all coy with this guy’s name? what the hell

?? Natsu bud, I feel ya, this really is some awkward shit right here

ohhhh!

that’s the name of the chapter! well all right then, so at least that much makes sense now

so now Ending is apologizing to Endeavor, and wow, tons of essay fuel in these next two panels here

“you had so many things that I could never get” doesn’t this sound remarkably similar to Deku’s speech to Kacchan during their second fight at Ground Beta? huh

and also, I think we are slowly dancing closer and closer to the Thing Katsuki Lacks That He Needs To Learn From His Internship From Endeavor. what do you guys think? I have a lot of thoughts about this, but again, I’ll save it for another post seeing as shit is hitting the fan right now and all

OH SHIT

ARE YOU SERIOUS, OF ALL THE TIMES TO HAVE ANOTHER THIRTEEN PAGE CHAPTER! HORIKOSHI YOU ARE FUCKING KILLING ME HERE

well shit. okay so when he says “don’t make the same mistake twice”, he’s clearly talking about Endeavor letting him live the last time they met, but also I can’t help but feel like there might be some kind of double meaning here as well. the fact that he went from theft to kidnapping and attempted murder, on top of him mentioning earlier about how he went digging into Endeavor’s past, makes me wonder if he could possibly be trying to recreate a specific set of events. or is that crazy??

but just, hear me out. what if something similar to this went down before, with Touya perhaps being taken hostage by a villain (though it couldn’t have been the same guy because the timing is off, and also Endeavor didn’t recognize him right off the bat), and Endeavor making some critical mistake which resulted in him failing to save him, and Natsu then blaming him for that and holding him responsible for the death. honestly that makes the most sense to me, since I would think that “literally murdered his own kid” would be kind of a deal-breaker as far as the rest of the family ever reconciling with him. so yeah, this could get very interesting here

(ETA: hoo boy, so I’ve been browsing the bnha tags a bit, and it seems that a lot of people are interpreting the hints in this chapter very differently from me lol. I admit I could certainly be wrong about the “don’t make the same mistakes” bit having a double meaning. but like, do we really believe that Endeavor just straight up murdered his son and got away with it, or that it was covered up or something? or that he drove Touya to suicide? I think it’s much more likely that Touya pushed himself too hard, or that he accidentally got caught up in one of Endeavor’s attacks, or something along those lines.

what really struck me, though, was that a lot of people actually seem to be hoping for it to come out that Endeavor really is responsible, though. like, to the point where they’re prepared to be outraged if it turns out he’s not, and this part of the story doesn’t end up conforming to the narrative of Endeavor just being a sinister cartoon villain. and like, I don’t really know what to say about that. except that I really hate this idea that if an abuser is ever portrayed as something other than a heartless monster then it’s super-problematic and/or just bad writing. that Endeavor not murdering his son = Horikoshi endorses child abuse. or something. anyways I don’t have the spoons to really throw my hat into the ring here, but basically my opinion is that life is rarely just black and white in that way, and this story reflects that, and I think it’s absolutely the right call to make and is actually very good writing and I respect it. 

and also like, it’s not some all-or-nothing thing here where he’s either a perfect saint, or the worst person to ever exist! what he is is a man who made some terrible choices in the past and abused and hurt the very people he should have loved and protected the most. and what he is, also, is a man who has realized the awfulness of the things he’s done, and is trying his best now to be a good person. what he is is a human being. and acknowledging that doesn’t mean that you condone the abuse; it simply means that you acknowledge that people are made up of more than just the worst things they’ve done in their lives. that’s it.

anyways, for all of my “not gonna through my hat into the ring” nonsense, I’m doing a pretty good impression of exactly that, so I’ll shut up now. damn you Endeavor and your controversy-sparking ways. what kind of psychopath looks at the fucking BnHA fandom and says “not bad, but you know what this place could use? more discourse.” you knew exactly what you were doing, you fiend.)

anyways I’m going to hope and assume that Natsu isn’t actually about to meet his end here at the hands of this bestriped man and his peculiarly thematic villain name and sinister bandage arrows (are they bandages?? maybe not since they seem pretty solid and he’s threatening to stab Natsu in the eye with one. idk). and for all of my joking earlier, this guy actually does appear to have a real, genuine death wish since he keeps talking about how Endeavor should have killed him before. so in addition to all this other drama, toss in an attempted suicide by cop as well! this fucking arc, man. goddamn

[slow-smiles]

The plan to tell Emma’s parents about her relationship with Killian gets derailed when she is kidnapped by the Dark One. Captain Duckling. Revelations, reunions, adventures, and smut ensues. ~6.8k

The grand finale to the My Princess, My Pirate series, which was originally just supposed to be PORN but this definitely has way, way more plot than porn. Enjoy? This is part one of four. Reading the predecessors isn’t necessary, but would probably be helpful. Also just... ya know, screw the canon timeline, use your imagination.

Read on AO3. Read on tumblr Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

The Swan of Misthaven. Part One.

The lazy morning on the ship turns into a relaxed afternoon on horseback in the woods. They’d decided, wrapped up in bedsheets and enjoying each other slowly and lazily once more before they dressed for the day, that they will tell her parents about them tonight. No matter how busy they get, the king and queen always make time for a family dinner on the last evening of the week, and Emma had thought that it would be a good time to introduce him.

“No use waiting anymore, right?” she’d said, breathless as his lips traced across her belly.

“A capital idea, love,” he’d agreed before his mouth descended on her quim with hunger and tenderness both, and conversation had become one word responses after that.

Now, Emma glances over at him and cocks her head to the left. “It’s just right this way,” she says and bears her horse in the direction she’d indicated, and Killian follows. His talents at navigation are more aptly suited to seafaring than forest tracking, so he is glad to allow Emma to take the lead here.

They crest a gentle rise, and Killian finally sees a break in the trees ahead. “C’mon,” Emma says and nudges her horse to a canter, and he follows on his own steed. Even before they reach the treeline, it’s possible to see the bright colors in the clearing Emma’s led them to.

A truly impressive array of wildflowers blanket the small valley, more of a gentle dip in the earth sheltered by hills than anything else. The stunning range of color is almost shocking in it’s vibrance—bright blues and violets, mixed with some softer reds, creams, and yellows, a dash of firelight orange here and there. It’s the type of scene that if a painter captured it, critics would call it unrealistic in its gaudiness.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathes, and then dismounts.

Emma’s answering grin is wide as she follows him off her horse. “My parents used to take me here a lot when I was younger.” She makes a turn, rotating and squinting at the treeline.

“What are you looking for, love?”

“Ah!” she exclaims, dropping her horse’s reins and flitting over to a fat-trunked cottonwood. “This is the tree where my mom first taught me to shoot.” Killian follows and notices the red rings that have faded with time and weather, but the many arrow-sized gouges in the tree, clustered around the center, are the true indicator of what this used to be.

He runs his fingers over the worn wood at the bullseye. “Looks like you were a natural,” he says.

Emma laughs. “Hardly. Most of those were Mom showing off, though she kept saying it was ‘for demonstration purposes.’ Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty good now, but I was always better with a sword.”

“Pirate,” he says fondly.

She laughs again. “Maybe when we retire.”

It occurs to Killian then that once they tell her parents and follow through on Emma’s plan, he will become royalty. Merely prince consort, but royalty nonetheless. There’s still a part of him that chafes at the concept of monarchy, of privilege and power being born into rather than earned with painstaking work and bloodshed, of corruption unchecked by any other authority—

But then he looks to Emma and she challenges every notion of royalty he has ever had. She is kind and generous, compassionate and courageous; she is capable of doing great things with the tremendous power that will be handed to her when her parents eventually step down. He will be only too happy to serve at her side. 

“Imagine that,” he replies, turning towards her. “We’ll call our ship ‘The Crone & The Codger’ and we’ll show all the young up and comers how it’s really done with our white hair and rickety joints that we keep in order with regular sword fights.”

Emma snorts and steps into him, putting her arms around his waist and just holding him close. He buries his hand in her hair, stroking through the strands. It’s warmed through from the sun, and it glints off the shining strands between his fingers.

“I like imagining a future with you,” she murmurs into his chest.

“And I, you.”

“Especially when it means we’ll end up as old, saggy pirates.”

“Oi,” he says, “who says we’ll be saggy?”

She pulls back enough to meet his gaze. “That much direct sunshine on our faces all the time? We’ll be saggy for sure.”

“Well, with that attitude—”

She disrupts him with a kiss, which he gladly returns.

When she pulls away, she maintains her grip on his neck and on his lapel. “I can’t—I don’t know how to tell you how much it means that you’re willing to go through all this royal garbage.”

“I have a hell of an incentive,” he says. “An empty life on the high seas where in all likelihood I’ll meet my maker at the end of an enemy sword? Or a life lived with the person I love?”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is to me. Your title, your duties, the court, whatever else—they’re… I can’t say inconsequential, but they aren’t nearly the hurdle you think they are. You’re worth any pain or inconvenience. You are remarkable, Princess Emma White, the Swan of Misthaven.”

Emma closes her eyes and bites her lip to keep from laughing. “You’re cheesy at shit.”

He barks out a laugh. “My grand declarations, met with naught but scorn? You wound me.”

“Sorry,” she says, tone not matching her words, and leans up to give him a peck. “I love you.”

They end up on a blanket in the midst of the clearing, sharing a small package of salami and aged cheddar between them, talking and giggling and kissing. They keep making plans, silly ones, serious ones, ones that involve Killian repainting the entirety of the palace bright purple, ones that make excited anticipation solidify in his gut. After nearly six years of secrecy, silence, hints of fear if they were on the cusp of being discovered, to revel in the possibility of openness is intoxicating. The bubble of happiness and love they’ve found themselves in is almost tangible, like a shield that makes them untouchable, invincible.

Oh, how wrong they are.

Killian hears him before he sees him.

The giggle that haunted his nightmares and fueled his revenge for hundreds of years echoes through the clearing like a pistol shot.

Emma’s gaze fixates over his shoulder, a look of horror taking over her face.

“Well isn’t this a picture.”

Emma and Killian are both on their feet and facing their intruder in an instant. Both of their hands go to their hips where their swordbelts normally are, but Killian curses when he realizes they left all their weaponry on their horses, grazing on the other side of the clearing.

Rumplestiltskin stands not five paces away, looking for all the world like he is having a grand old time. He looks the same as Killian remembers—the wide, predatory grin; the metallic, gold-hued skin; the dark, scaled vest; the gnarled hands; and perhaps worst of all, the light in his eyes that flares at the promise of cruelty.

Killian can’t help but growl, “Crocodile.”

This is true: Killian has not thought much of his old nemesis in the last six years.

This is also true: Killian has never forgotten the grief and rage rotting and fermenting in his gut, fueled by the image of Milah being murdered by the man who was her husband while he had no choice but to scream and watch someone else he loves die while he can do absolutely nothing about it.

This is the most relevant truth: Killian is terrified that it is going to happen again.

Emma bends down, and when she stands, she has a small knife in her hand. It was probably tucked in her boot, and Killian feels like he is going to be sick because he loves her, he loves her, he loves her so much and it’s going to happen again, just like Milah, just like Liam, and he’s—

“Emma, run,” he whispers urgently. He can buy her some time if he can just get close enough to rip out the Crocodile’s throat with his hook; that will at least slow him down.

He charges forward without waiting, hoping that he can rely on the element of surprise, but he’s frozen in place before he takes a second step, his body enveloped in translucent red magic that tickles across his skin like a breeze.

“You already tried that once, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin says, wagging a finger and grinning. As though letting her in on an inside joke, he says to Emma, “He stabbed me right—” he dramatically jabs a finger into his chest, right over where a heart would normally lie, “here. In case you can’t tell, it didn’t work.” He giggles in that maddening way of his once more.

“If you touch her I will end you,” Killian hisses, “I will—”

“Oh save it,” the Crocodile says with an impatient wave of his hand. “You haven’t managed to kill me for your last love, and it’s been what, a few hundred years?”

Between one heartbeat and the next, a knife flies through the air and embeds itself right in Rumplestiltskin’s left eye.

The creature screeches, blood spilling from the wound. He bends at the waist, turning away from them slightly, his hands going up to his face. Killian is flabbergasted because Emma just hurt the Dark One with nothing but a knife, how can that be possible—

Then Emma is at his elbow, pulling him despite the magic keeping him frozen. “Emma, just leave me,” he says, desperate and hoarse. “Go.” The Crocodile might be hurt, but Killian knows it won’t be for long.

“Fuck that,” she says, and pulls harder. “How strong can this magic really be—”

Emma’s startled shout cuts him to his core when an unseen force yanks her off her feet and away from him.

The Crocodile has straightened again, one hand extended towards Emma as his magic drags her struggling form closer, her bloodied knife clenched in his other. His left eye is unrecognizable and blood pours down the side of his face. In truth, Killian hadn’t known until this moment that he bled at all.

Emma comes to a stop next to the Crocodile, and he pulls her to her feet with magic. She’s facing away from Killian, so he can’t see her eyes, and he would give anything to switch places with her, give anything to be the one to die today—

“That,” the Crocodile says, “was not very nice.”

Emma spits in his face.

The imp just cackles again, unconcerned and amused. “You are lucky I need you, dear little Emma. I’ve removed intestines for lesser offenses.” He makes a twisting gesture with the knife, pantomiming splitting Emma’s stomach open without touching her.

“Please don’t do this,” Killian pleads, his anger caving in and leaving only pure fear in its wake. “Take me instead. I’ll do anything, please just—”

Suddenly he finds his air supply quite thoroughly gone. His chest heaves against the invisible pressure on his throat, his limbs still frozen.

“As it turns out,” the Crocodile says through clenched teeth, “I need your girlfriend, but not you. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“No!” Emma exclaims. “I’ll do whatever you want if you let him go; right here, right now, no strings attached. He gets to leave right now, alive and absolutely, completely unaltered.”

Emma, no. He wants to scream the words at her, but his vision is swimming with black and he still can’t breathe. 

“Smart, dearie, to make your request so clear. Smarter than your parents ever were.” Rumplestiltskin seems to consider it, tapping the bloody blade against his chin. “I accept,” he says. “I can always kill him on another day.”

“What? No—”

Killian doesn’t hear the rest of her reply because both she and the Crocodile are enveloped in red smoke and are gone in a blink.

The magic falls away from him immediately, and Killian collapses.

Emma is alive, for now.

He is alive, for now.

He feels the grief and rage that never truly left him stirring, because leaving him alive will be the last mistake the Crocodile ever makes—

But beneath that is the rationality of three hundred years spent searching for a way to kill the Dark One.

And Killian knows that he is going to need help.

    The late afternoon sun streams through the window, illuminating a pale column of dust until it reaches the round table at the center of the council room. With the heat of late summer still upon them, the fireplace against the wall lies dormant—the only real activity in the room comes from it’s two occupants. David and Snow are preparing the agenda for the council meeting later in the evening when one of their pages bursts into the room rather unceremoniously, causing both of them to jump out of their seats. 

“Thomas!” David says, half greeting, half surprised exclamation. “Where’s the fire?”

The joke doesn’t go over well. Thomas is gasping for air, and manages a polite, “Apologies, Majesties. I don’t come bearing pleasant news.” He remembers some of the royal etiquette then and bows, but doesn’t straighten back up immediately, bracing his hands on his knees. 

“Thomas,” Snow prods, stepping forward and placing a hand on the page’s shoulder. Her voice is kind when she asks, “What is the matter that has you sprinting a marathon to see us?” She shoots David a small smile. 

Thomas, while a kind-hearted soul, has a history of making mountains of molehills. Once, Snow and David raced in a panic to the kitchens where Thomas reported that a sixteen-year-old Emma had been with a gentleman caller unchaperoned, only to find Emma visiting with Eric and Ariel’s son Adrien, who is rather famously and unabashedly not interested in women. There was the time he’d had half the palace shepherds in a panic when he thought he’d seen a wolf amongst their small flock of sheep, only to find it had been one of the herding dogs all along. Of course, who could forget the time he’d burst into the council room with urgent news that the royal convoy from Agrabah had arrived early and there was no one at the docks to greet them, only for David and Snow to race to the harbor and find that the ship was still hours away due to the tides, set to arrive on schedule.

He’s a good kid, David knows, but hardly has a good judgement of urgency.

Thomas finally straightens and swallows. “I’m afraid this is no laughing matter.”

“What is it?” David asks.

“The princess has been kidnapped.”

“What?!” David and Snow both exclaim.

“According to Captain Humbert, it would appear she’s been taken by a pirate band led by Captain Hook.”

“How in the world—” David begins, his mind seeming to only function in fits and spurts as he tried to process what Thomas has told them.

Yes, they hadn’t been able to find Emma anywhere this morning, and her horse was gone so they’d assumed she’d gone out for a long ride to cool off after the ball last night. But Emma knows to stay away from dangerous ports, and she is a formidable opponent with a sword (an opponent who had surpassed David in the last five or so years with her swordsmanship; she’d been practicing on her own as she’d definitely picked up some new, flashy tricks that he’d never taught her.) Even if she was disarmed, Emma is no stranger to throwing a good punch—so how did this happen?

“Have we received a ransom note?” Snow asks, the picture of a composed queen, but David can see the way her breathing is picking up. She’s starting to get scared.

“No, that’s—that’s the odd part. Captain Hook himself rode up to the castle gates and announced that the princess had been kidnapped.”

“What.” David has no other words.

“I knew Captain Hook was bold, but I didn’t realize he was that bold,” Snow says.

“He’s blazed past bold, overshot brazen, and landed himself right at stupidity.” David glances back to Thomas. “I assume he is in the dungeon?”

Thomas nods. “Captain Humbert took him into custody immediately upon his arrival. He has been—” Thomas winces, “very vocal about his displeasure.”

Snow makes a sound not unlike a growl. “Well, if he doesn’t care for the accommodations, he’d do well to not kidnap people and show up at their homes looking for hospitality.”

“That’s not exactly—w-well he’s insisting that he wasn’t the one who kidnapped her.”

“Oh Lords,” David says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What is going on?”

At that moment, the double doors of the council room swing open and Captain of the Guard Graham Humbert enters.

“Graham,” Snow breathes in relief. “Thomas, send word to the other councilors that Emma has been kidnapped, and they are to convene immediately. You’re dismissed.”

Thomas bows and scurries out of the room.

“Okay, Graham, please tell us what the hell is going on.” Snow says. 

While not as young as he used to be, Graham Humbert has aged well. He could likely pass for someone a decade his junior if it weren’t for the hair that had gone peppery in his fiftieth year. As it is, he’s still spry and athletic, and his mind quick as a whip. If there’s anyone who can tell them what exactly is happening in their dungeons, it’s him.

“What’s Thomas relayed?” he asks.

“That Emma’s been kidnapped, likely by Captain Hook, who rode up to our gates like a madman, at which point you took him into custody,” David says. “Oh, and he’s claiming he’s not the one who kidnapped her. Sound about right?”

Graham sighs deeply, the pauldrons at his shoulders rising and falling with the depth of it. “Thomas's account is accurate. And as for Hook, he seems—not like a pirate who is out to extract a ransom. He is positively desperate to talk to the two of you, and he won’t tell me what about exactly. He has been completely insistent that the Dark One is the one who kidnapped Emma, not him.”

David’s hackles go up. “The Dark One.”

“No one has heard from him in decades, not since everything he’d planned for Regina fell apart; why would he resurface now?” Snow asked, and David could tell she was ready to dismiss the possibility.

Graham shrugged. “We have no way to confirm his story. Captain Hook is a well-known con man with a rumored feud with the Dark One. He could be trying to get our help with some sort of revenge, using Emma as leverage.”

Admittedly, that sounded more reasonable than Rumplestiltskin deciding to come out of the woodwork after almost thirty years of absolute silence.

A beat passes. “I want to talk to him,” Snow says.

“Your Majesty, I don’t think that would be wise to give him exactly what he wants—”

“He has Emma, Graham,” she snaps, “and I am fully prepared to give him absolutely anything he wants, quite frankly, to assure her safety.”

He bristles, “I want Emma safe, too, Snow.”

David glances between them, his wife and one of their most loyal friends. “I think we should talk to him,” David finally says. They both look over. “What’s the harm? If nothing comes of it, we will leave him to you,” he nods at Graham, “and if he unintentionally reveals something while trying to swindle us? All the better.”

Graham nods. “As you wish.”

“Bring him to the throne room immediately. We’ll be waiting,” Snow says.

With a salute and a heel turn, Graham is gone.

As soon as the door closes behind the captain, Snow’s posture sags and she places a supporting hand on the council table. Her breathing goes deep and rapid, and her other hand goes to her abdomen. “David, I might need you to loosen my corset.”

“Snow,” he says, trying to hide his own fear for his wife’s benefit, “We need to stay calm.”

“Calm!” There is fire in her eyes when she turns to him. “My daughter may have been kidnapped by pirates for ransom and you’re telling me to stay calm?!” Her fast breathing turns into quick pacing, “Here we were assuming that she just wanted to get out of the palace for a while, but what if our security has gotten so lax that we basically invited them to take her—” she claps a hand over her mouth, and David steps up behind her and takes hold of her shoulders to halt her pacing. 

“Snow,” he says again. “I’m scared too, but we absolutely cannot panic.” He reaches for the laces on her corset, and loosens the first tie. He doesn’t need a passed-out wife to deal with on top of the missing daughter.

David continues as he pulls each crossed lace enough to give Snow more breathing room, “It will take a few minutes for Graham to bring Hook up to the throne room—”

“Gods, and Captain Hook of all the pirates,” Snow breathes, but she sounds less frantic.

“I know,” David soothes. He ties off the corset again, and pulls Snow around to face him. Her arms immediately go around him. “We have a few minutes before we need to be there. And I need badass bandit Snow to come out, all right?”

“Right,” she says, and he can hear the smile.

He pulls away and frames her face with his hands. “We’ll be together the whole time.”

“Together,” Snow repeats, their mantra, and David is so proud of her.

“Let’s go.”

    The throne room is not their usual forte. Typically they receive guests in the main foyer, the ball room, the dining hall, or the myriad of tea rooms and libraries that are perfectly adequate in style and function. However, there are occasional moments when the intimidation and sheer majesty that comes along with sitting on the thrones in the massive, ostentatious hall is necessary.

He and Snow are seated side-by-side when the massive double doors at the opposite end of the room are pulled open by the two attendants, revealing two guards with a shackled man between them. Graham stands slightly ahead and to the right of the prisoner, and leads the group down the long room towards the dais where the thrones are raised above the floor.

Captain Hook is not what David imagined. He imagined someone much older, perhaps with a cocky swagger and a feathered cap. Someone who would be described by innkeepers as eight feet tall and broad as a bear across. Someone who could inhabit all the legends surrounding them. Someone larger than life.

But this man is not much older than Emma, and looks—desperate. Frightened. Almost small in a way that doesn’t seem to be this man’s true nature. Apparently, a long, black leather coat and vest had been taken off his person when he’d been arrested, along with at least seven weapons, as well as the brace that holds his infamous hook. He only has on a loose black shirt, leather pants, and a set of boots.

He is, to David’s surprise, entirely underwhelming.

To compensate for the lack of hand that handcuffs would require to work, it seems that Graham has shackled the pirate’s ankles and just above his elbows to do the job.

“On your knees before the Queen and King,” Graham orders tersely when they arrive at the dais. The guards flanking him don’t wait for Hook to obey before pushing him down before them. Up close, he looks pale and his eyes swollen and red-rimmed. David feels strangely ill at the sight of a man clearly wrung out and forced to his knees. 

Hook’s first words to them are strained, “Please, your Majesties, you have to believe me. The Dark One has Emma, and I—”

“You’ll speak when you’re spoken to,” Snow interrupts, the imperiousness of her position ringing in the grand hall.

“With all due respect, no,” Hook hisses, surprising David, “we don’t have time for this rigamarole, we need to find—”

A well-placed kick from a guard to the pirate’s abdomen cuts off his next words. “Shut your mouth, pirate.”

“Sims,” Graham snaps. The one who’d kicked Hook, Sims, looks chastened beneath his visor. “This isn’t the Evil Queen’s kingdom anymore. Act like it.”

“Yes, sir.”

A beat of awkwardness passes before Snow speaks again. “Where is the princess?”

“I’ve already told you,” Hook says. “The Dark One kidnapped her.”

David cocks a brow. “And you know this how? Do you work for Rumplestiltskin?”

“I would rather die,” he responds, clipped and matter-of-fact. A short silence follows, as Hook seems to search for the right words. “I was with her when the bastard took her.”

David asks, “And why was Emma with you? She’s not stupid, she wouldn’t dabble with common criminals for a laugh.”

“Choose your next words wisely,” Snow warns, “because my husband was rather generous when he described you as a common criminal. You have more than earned a death penalty in many kingdoms who would be all too willing to take you off our hands.”

David refuses the urge to look over at Snow, needing to present a united front. Snow is hardly an iron-fisted ruler, but her threats always have teeth, and to say that he’s surprised she’s threatening this man with death would be an understatement.

Hook’s eyes drop to the floor, and the breath he takes is shaky. He whispers something David can’t hear into the floor before he looks up. “Because I love her.” It’s quiet, but… definitive and calm in a way David did not expect. It’s also the absolute last answer either of them were anticipating.

“Excuse me?” Snow says.

Louder now, Hook says, “I love her. We have been secretly courting for the last six years.”

David’s jaw drops, and he doesn’t need to look at Snow to know that she looks much the same. “That’s—”

“How—”

“You’re—”

“That’s—”

“How—”

“That’s impossible!” Snow finally settles on. “She would have told us!”

“Would she have?” Hook responds, in that same sure, quiet tone as before. One that makes David want to believe him, despite what it would mean. It would mean that their daughter has been lying to them for years, has been keeping a massive secret for over half a decade.

It could also mean Hook is just a very, very good actor.

“Yes,” Snow insists.

“Why would I come here if I’m not telling the truth?” Hook asks. “It would be suicide to ride to your gates and offer myself up. And since I do, in fact, value my own life, well.” The intensity of Hook’s gaze is startling, as though by sheer force of will alone he can make them believe him. “No one has asked for ransom. I haven’t asked for a single thing except that you help me rescue her.”

“This is preposterous,” Snow declares, “You are a pirate and a villain. I might not know much about my daughter’s romantic tastes, but I’m sure they don’t stray towards the violent sociopath side of the scale. Captain Humbert—” Graham stands at attention, “—take this man back to the dungeon. We shall see about extradition after we find out where they are hiding Emma.”

Hook’s eyes widen in panic when he realizes his story isn’t taking hold. “Please!” The guards force him to his feet, but he refuses to move from where he stands in front of the dais. “You have to believe me! She is in very real danger and you can’t just—”

“Let’s go,” Graham says, and the guards begin to drag the pirate backwards.

“He’s going to kill her!” Hook begins to struggle more violently, dropping a shoulder and throwing it into the guard at his left. A loud oof! sounds from the man, and Graham orders two guards along the wall to assist. The throne room knights converge on the pirate. His struggles had been adequate to delay the two guards, but four succeed in beginning to drag him back towards the doors. “Please, you have to believe me!” he shouts again.

David finally spares a glance over at Snow, and despite her cold expression, he can see in her eyes that she’s anything but certain. “We need to see how many councilors have arrived, because we need to convene immediately,” Snow says to him. She’s barely holding it together, and so she turns and starts to head for their private exit. David follows.

“Her favorite color is yellow because it reminds her of buttercups!” Hook finally yells, voice hoarse and breaking over the syllables. 

Both he and Snow freeze. 

“She has a set of freckles on her back that looks like Cassiopeia,” he continues, fighting against the increasingly frustrated hands of the guards. David looks back and sees Graham hesitating. “She adores cinnamon and cannot stand horseradish. Her horse is named Tuppence because of her favorite book when she was a child, and—and she always brought home birds with broken wings and rats with missing paws because she couldn’t stand to see a creature in pain. She’s got a—a beautiful voice even though she hates to sing. She curses like a sailor and I love her more than life itself, and even if you execute me here and now I beg you to please save her.”

“Snow,” David says, and he can’t deny the truth now. This pirate, for all the difficulty it might cause them, loves their daughter. He would have to to know these things. Even if she were captured, it’s not like Emma would share things like that with someone holding her hostage.

“Let him go,” Snow commands, and descends from the dais and strides towards Hook.

Graham has been the Captain of their guard about as long as Emma has been alive—he knows the princess almost as well as her own parents—and commands the guards to release their charge. He reaches for the keys at his belt, and the shackles on Hook are soon on the floor.

Hook, for his part, looks flabbergasted, and his eyes dart up to Snow and David, who stop just short of him.

Snow looks contrite, but overriding that is a deep sympathy. She tries, “I—” but can’t seem to find the words. David is only a little shocked when she closes the distance and wraps Hook in a hug that he was absolutely not expecting.

His arms remain frozen, his eyes mildly panicked, his entire posture screaming indecision. David idly wonders how long it’s been since someone hugged him—besides Emma, he supposes.

Snow pulls back but leaves her hands on Hook’s shoulders. “I still have a lot of questions,” she says slowly, “but I think we can manage to hold off on those until Emma is back safely with us.”

Hook sighs then, the last bit of overt tension draining from his frame. Now, the only tension remaining is in his eyes and his jaw as he replies, “Aye.” He squares his shoulders in a way that gives David pause because he looks—very nearly military in that moment. “We should pool what we know. Come up with a plan of attack.”

David nods. “We should convene with the Council.”

Snow nods, and gestures over her shoulder to Hook. “This way.”

    He is introduced to the small gathering as Captain Hook and an ally to the throne, with no mention being made of his brief time in custody. They’d given him back all that had been taken off him when he’d been arrested, so he feels a little less naked standing in front of the Council.

(Admittedly, riding straight to the palace and announcing that their future sovereign had been kidnapped was not his best plan by half. In terms of efficiency, however, of getting over the awkwardness of having to tell Emma’s parents that they’d been intimately involved? It functioned as well as anything else he might’ve been able to come up with had his mind not been occupied with worry for Emma, and the myriad of ways he wanted to slowly and painfully kill the Crocodile.)

He knows how rumor mills work, especially in close quarters, so he figures they all likely know about it by now, even if they haven’t heard about the scene he’d caused in the throne room. However, instead of questioning him, they seem content to follow the lead of their queen and king in planning the rescue effort for Emma.

“So Hook,” asks the woman who was introduced as Mulan, “you’ve hunted the Dark One for many years. I imagine what you know could fill a library--why is it you need the crown’s assistance?”

“Because I’ve hunted him for years and yet he still lives,” Killian answers. And that’s the real rub of this whole ordeal, isn’t it? If Killian had succeeded, if he’d taken the Crocodile down years ago, if he hadn’t failed over and over and over again to find a way to successfully kill the beast, then Emma would be perfectly safe. “I’m not willing to risk Emma’s life for my own pride.”

If any of them are surprised by his lack of formal address of their princess, they don’t show it. The woman to Mulan’s left is the next to speak--Ruby, her name is. “What strategic intelligence can you offer, then?”

“There are plenty of things out there that can kill him, despite what he’d have anyone think. Weapons to cut immortal ties, weapons that can end curses. Eternal traps, as well. He feared Pandora’s Box more than just about anything I can remember.” He leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. “But as far as I can tell, he has found every single item that can trap him or do him harm, and has locked it away in his castle. Or he’s put an impossible enchantment on it, like he did Excalibur.”

“An impossible enchantment?” asks Ruby.

Killian shrugs. “I can’t remember the verbiage of it, but it’s trapped in an ancient, enchanted stone. Since Rumplestiltskin himself couldn’t draw it out, he cast a spell that would turn anyone who tried into dust.

“It’s a fool’s errand to seek Excalibur,” Killian concludes. “You’d throw more lives away trying to break the spell than it would save.”

“So what do you suggest?” Snow asks.

Killian sighs. “He keeps the most dangerous of his treasures in an underground vault.”

“So we break in, grab what we need, and then we’re good?” David asks.

“If it were that simple, I’d’ve been able to kill him a century ago.”

“Wait, how long ago?” David asks.

Killian winces a little. “I’m a bit older than I look,” he says, and quickly moves on to avoid any lingering questions about his age. “But the vault is enchanted to the teeth, and it doesn’t have any windows or doors. Completely physically sealed off.”

“He would need a--a vent or something, right? Air pressure might make it collapse otherwise,” Mulan suggests.

Killian leans back again. “Magic. And I’ve tried to get in every way a layperson without magic can. Teleportation scrolls, tunneling spells, magic beans. All have failed. What we need is an extremely powerful magic user who is able to bypass the security enchantments he’s put on the vault that can teleport us in. And before you suggest it,” Killian warns, “no, fairy magic will not work. Even pixie dust won’t make a dent.”

“We know such a magic user,” Snow says.

David looks over at her. “We do?”

Snow ignores him. “She lives in a village on the way to the Dark One’s castle, just outside our kingdom.”

“Snow,” warns Ruby, trepidation on her face. The rest of the councilors look equally nervous.

David seems to catch up to his wife’s thoughts at that moment. “Oh no. Snow, you can’t be serious.”

She looks over at David. “I am. Emma’s life could very well be in danger. Regina is our best bet.”

Killian finally realizes why her suggestion caused such a stir. “Regina? Your mean the Evil Queen who ruled your kingdom a few decades back? Waged war against you two personally? Who murdered the king, your father, if I’m not mistaken?”

“The very same,” Snow says coolly.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but as I understand it, there is no love lost between you three. What makes you think she’ll help?” Killian asks.

Snow’s expression is steely when she answers, “She owes me one.” She meets the eyes of the Council as she continues, “Both David and I will ride out with Hook. A smaller strike force for a mission like this is ideal, and approaching Regina with just the three of us looks a lot less suspicious than sending a few soldiers or a messenger in our stead. She’ll be more willing to help us if we ask her personally.”

“And then you ride home after we enlist the sorceress,” Killian says, concluding the plan. It’s not an awful one--Regina is certainly powerful, and she was trained by the Dark One, so she might know him and his castle even better than Killian. The story of how she stopped from casting the Dark Curse is muddled, and there are at least ten or so versions swirling around, but the one consistent is Rumplestiltskin’s meddling. The old queen has a penchant for revenge, so perhaps it won’t be so hard to convince her once she learns he plans to kill the old beast--

“No, we’ll be going to save Emma ourselves,” Snow says, and Killian’s musings screech to a halt.

“What?” he asks.

“We’re coming,” David affirms. “Just because we’re older doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten how to fight.”

“Besides,” Snow adds with a strained smile, “It’s been too long since David and I have had a proper adventure. And knowing Rumplestiltskin, having a True Love’s Kiss handy will probably be wise.”

Killian looks around at the room, and is shocked to see nods in agreement.

“Are you all mad?”

“Pardon?” Ruby asks, aghast.

Killian scoffs. “I’m the only one not sitting on a political council, and yet somehow I am the only one who sees the blatant idiocy in sending the only two people who have a legal claim over the throne after their only heir who is being held by a homicidal maniac.” Around the table, he’s met with some contemplative looks, others blank. His gaze finally makes it back to Snow and David, whose silent conversation ends after a few moments and they turn to look at him.

Snow says, “We haven’t had dealings with the Dark One since before Emma was born--”

“Did you ever make a deal agreeing to give him your firstborn?” Killian interrupts urgently, a wave of memory coming over him like suffocation, remembering Milah’s despair and fear that the deal her husband made might extend to any of her future children (their children, had been the undercurrent.)

“No,” David says vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

“The reason we stopped--” Snow shakes her head. “Look, we stopped making deals with him when Regina revealed how far his machinations went and she didn’t cast the Dark Curse. He always wanted something from David and me. We weren’t so dense to think that the price for all the deals we made was always so light--he must’ve needed us for something.” She straightens her shoulders. “I’m hoping that’s still true.”

Killian bristles. “Hope is a veneer, not a bedrock.”

Snow tilts her head. “You’re awfully cynical, aren’t you, Hook?”

He laughs sharply at that. Emma had asked him the exact same question many years ago. He gives Snow the same answer he’d given Emma, “Not cynical. Realistic.”

“And having hope isn’t realistic?”

Six years ago, he would’ve answered without hesitation. Six year ago, he hadn’t had any hope. Now, his hope sits in the clutches of his worst enemy.

His answering smile is humorless. “Haven’t always had the best track record with it, I’m afraid.” 

He takes stock of the room again. None of the councilors seem inclined to fight the decision their monarchs have made; at most, several of them look favorably in his direction, but none are willing to protest. He raises his hand and hook in defeat. “I can’t stop you. I’ve stated my objections. I came for help, no matter how I can get it.”

David rises from his seat. “Trust us, Hook. We will get Emma back.”

He knows that they both believe that. Maybe there is something to the stories he’d always heard in Neverland, about the power of belief, but he has always been a pragmatist. He isn’t so prideful to think that once they have Regina on their side, their fight will be easily won. No, he knows that anything worth fighting for like this is paid for in blood.

He’ll just have to make sure his is the only one spilled.

[steebrogurz]

Save Me (Part 1)

Summary: Bucky comes to your rescue during a fight with your boyfriend.

a/n: here is my submission for @sunmoonandbucky​’s 1.5K constellations writing challenge, and I really hope you all enjoy it. This will be part one of a new series I’m writing. Thank you so much for reading and let me know what you think I always love reading your thoughts and feedback :)

Characters: Bucky, Steve, Sam (eventually), minor characters

word count: 3941

Warnings: abuse, pregnancy, abortion,

My heart is racing in my chest as I sit in the corner booth of a cafe waiting for Alex to arrive. A steaming mug of tea and a muffin sit on the table in front of me but the thought of eating anything makes my stomach churn. Every time the door opens I look up to see if he’s here and I get a little bit more on edge when it’s not him. After about five more minutes I pull out my phone to text him and ask if he’s close when someone slides into the booth opposite me with a tight smile on his face.

“Hey, what’s going on? Your text said it was urgent,” Alex sits across from me shrugging off his light fall jacket. I take a moment to examine him. Sunglasses hang off the collar of his favourite band t-shirt. Locks of wavy blond hair fall into his eyes and he brings his hand up to push them back and he looks at me with a slightly worried expression.

We met on tinder and while I knew right from the start that we weren’t as compatible as either of us had hoped the sex was good so I agreed to a second date. Two months later we were still seeing each other.

My hands start to pull apart the muffin if only for something to do to distract me from my nerves. I open my mouth to try and talk but my throat closes around the words and I have to clear my throat to try again. “So I’m not exactly sure if there’s an easy way to say this so I’m just gonna say it,” I take a deep breath to steel myself and prepare for any kind of reaction. “I’m pregnant,” my voice wavers a bit as I say the two words I never thought I’d have to say and I watch for his reaction.

His worried expression changes to confusion. “How? We’ve always used a condom.”

“Well, condoms aren’t 100% effective.”

“Are you sure? Like, are you absolutely certain?”

I nod solemnly. “I mean I’m about a week late and I have a positive pregnancy test from this morning in my garbage so, yeah, I’m pretty certain.”

We sit in silence for a few more seconds as he digests the news. I was prepared for panic, frantic googling of what to do after getting pregnant, I even prepared myself for him to just get up and leave but I admit what happens next is not something I was expecting. A big smile slowly spreads across his face and his eyes light up. “This is amazing!” Alex pulls out his phone and starts typing rapidly. “Ok, there’s a lot we’ll need to do before the baby comes, but first thing’s first, you need to meet my parents. My mom will be so happy she’s been hinting at grandchildren for a while now.” He chuckles to himself and continues to talk about baby showers, whether we should find a new apartment together or if I should just move in with him, completely unaware of my own stunned and panicked expression.

“Alex,” I voice cracks as I say his name, he doesn’t hear me so I try again. This time I reach out and push his phone down forcing him to look at me. “Alex, stop.”

He stops talking and gives me a puzzled look. “What?”

“I’m not keeping the baby,” I say as firmly as I can. “I’m only telling you so you can, I don’t know, come with me, maybe.”

His smile disappears from his face and I can see shock and anger spark in his hazel eyes. “What do you mean you’re not keeping the baby?!” He demands. “You can’t do that! Don’t you need my consent or something?” His voice climbs in volume and I’m suddenly very aware of the other people around us.

“Keep your voice down,“ I plead looking around to see if we’ve caught anyone’s attention. “And I don’t need your consent but I’d be nice if I had your support but if you can’t give me that then we should just end things now and get on with our lives. I’ll do this by myself if I have to.” I grab my purse and sweater as I slide out of the booth, leaving the torn up muffin and untouched tea behind me.

I shoulder my purse and move to walk past him towards the door but he reaches out and grabs my wrist to stop me from leaving. “You can’t do this!” He growls at me and fear suddenly licks up my spine. I’ve never seen him like this. Admittedly, we never really had a chance to get to know each other past the sex. “I won’t let you kill my baby.”

“You don’t get a say in this.” I try to keep my voice steady as I attempt to pull my wrist from his grip but he squeezes harder. “Let go, Alex, you’re hurting me.” I can feel tears well up in my eyes but I blink them back refusing to cry in front of him.

“No.” I can hear the rage in his voice. He grabs his jacket with his other hand and quickly stands up. I have to stumble back to avoid him stepping on me but I can’t get very far because his hand is still wrapped painfully around my wrist. He heads for the door, pulling me with him and I struggle to break free without causing too much of a scene.

I start to panic when he opens the cafe door and pushes me through. My mind is racing a mile a minute; Where is he taking me? Am I being kidnapped? What is he going to do to me? I’ve heard stories of women being beaten or worse for simply saying no a man. The street outside holds a few people window shopping but they’re too far away. I try to plant my feet in the ground to at least slow him down, maybe if I put up some kind of fight he’ll give up and leave. “Alex stop! You can’t do this! You can’t force me to have this baby.”

He stops in his tracks and whirls around to face me, the rage still his eyes. He brings his other hand up and I think for a terrifying second that he’s going to hit me, instead he grips my chin holding me still and forcing me to look at him. “I’m not making you to do anything, you’re not thinking straight and you just need time to think about this and bond with the baby.” I try to open my mouth to say something else but he just talks over me. “We can be a family, we can be happy.” I can see a spark of hope in his eyes behind the rage.

“Hey!” Someone shouts behind me but Alex doesn’t move, either not hearing the person or assuming they’re yelling at someone else. They yell again, closer this time.

“Hey!” A large, gloved, hand comes into view and grips Alex’s shoulder to get his attention. Alex releases my chin but still holds firm on my wrist that’s starting to lose feeling. We both look over to see a brick wall of a man standing before us. The man looks like he lives at the gym. He’s wearing a black bomber jacket but it’s clear that he’s very muscular. He looks vaguely familiar with his chestnut brown hair pulled back into a bun and his piercing blue eyes staring Alex down but I can’t seem to place it. “Let her go.” He speaks calmly in a low voice but his tone is deadly serious.

Alex squares his shoulders and draws himself up to his fullest height. I can see from where I am that he’s a couple inches shorter than the man but that doesn’t seem to deter him. “This is none of your business, asshole. This is between me and her.”

The man turns to me instead, his eyes soften as they meet mine. “Ma'am are you ok?” his tone is gentle and soothing as if he were approaching a panicked animal, which I guess I am at the moment. I look between the two men not wanting to make things worse but also wanting to get as far away from Alex as possible. I look down at my shoes and shake my head.

Alex scoffs and lets go of me with so much force that my hand swings back and smacks me in the thigh. I clutch my hand to my chest and take a few steps away from him partially hiding myself behind the man. Alex is glaring daggers at me and jabs a finger in my direction. “You know what, fine. Do whatever the fuck you want but just keep in mind you’re murdering an innocent baby.”

I stare after him as he turns and stalks off, shoulders hunched and fists clenched at his sides. As soon as he’s out of sight there’s nothing to stop the tears from falling and I break down sobbing in relief. A hand gently touches my elbow and I jump in surprise remembering the man is still standing with me. “Thank you,” I choke out between sobs.

The man offers a reassuring smile. “Don’t mention it.”

I manage to get a hold of myself and stop crying enough to smile back. “Can I buy you a coffee or something? I left my tea at that cafe over there and now I’m really regretting it. Besides it’s the least I can do after you probably just saved my life.”

The man hesitates but after a second his smile widens and he nods. “Sure.”

I turn to walk back to the cafe and he falls in step beside me. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

He hesitates again and I look over at him, his hands are in his pockets and he’s staring at the ground as we walk. I can’t shake the feeling that I know him from somewhere and I’m hoping that maybe if I know his name it’ll spark something. “I’m… James.” No such luck.

We enter the cafe and I quickly glance at the table I was sitting in not ten minutes ago. It’s already been cleared and I’m not sure what I expected, I definitely would have gotten a few stares if I just sat at a table to started drinking a tea that was just sitting there even if was mine to begin with. So we stand at the counter and I order again, forgoing the muffin this time. He orders the same kind of tea as me and I can’t help but stare in surprise. Again, I don’t know what I expected.

Once seated, him sitting across from me, we both sip at our tea in silence. I cast furtive glances at him still trying to figure out where I know him from. But before I can ask, he looks at me with his piercing blue eyes cutting off any thought in my head.

“Can I ask what that was all about back there?” The curiosity is plain in his voice and on his face but I can tell that he won’t push it if I refuse to tell him.

I scoff and stare into my tea watching the ripples as I drum the sides with my fingers. The fight with Alex already feels like a distant memory or a bad dream but the bruise forming around my wrist is a clear reminder of everything that just happened. “I’m pregnant and as I’m sure you can guess he wants me to have the baby. I don’t.” I shiver as my thoughts go back to fight and I wrap my hands around the cup taking comfort in the warmth. “And if you hadn’t stopped him-” I can feel tears sting in my eyes again but they don’t fall. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

James suddenly reaches across the table and gently places a warm hand on my arm and I freeze. My blood runs cold and I stare at his hand as panic rises in my chest, clouding my head. Somewhere deep in my mind I note that he’s wearing gloves, maybe he’s a germaphobe. He quickly retracts his hand looking away as he does. “Sorry.”

I shake my head to clear my mind and focus. “It’s- it’s fine.” I give him a weak smile and shift in my seat feeling a sense of restlessness. I watch as he focuses on anything but me, he picks an invisible piece of lint from his jacket, he checks his phone, and I decide I’m done talking about me. “have we met before?” I ask tilting my head to the side as I try to think of where I’ve seen him before.

James regards me with confusion and surprise. “Um- no I don’t think so,” he starts to look around the cafe as if he’s about to run. His phone starts to ring. “Shit, sorry one sec. Hey Steve- yeah, sorry I…forgot. I’m nearby, at The Postmark cafe in Brooklyn right now but I can be there in about fifteen minutes.“ He hangs up and puts his phone face down on the table. "Sorry about that, I had lunch plans with a friend that I’m now late for. I should get going but I just wanna make sure you’re ok, I can cancel and stick around if you think he’ll be back.”

I keep my eyes on him, watching as he talks to the person on the phone. I could swear I’ve seen him before and the clue that his friend’s name is Steve pushes him closer to the front of my mind but I still can’t quite put my finger on it. “No I think I’ll be ok. Are you sure we haven’t met? You just look so familiar but I can’t quite place it.” I squint my eyes at him as if that’ll help.

He clenches his jaw and his eyes go wide as something behind me catches his attention.

“Buck, we made these plans two hours ago how could you forget already?”

I turn around and feel my jaw drop as a man I never thought I’d see in person makes his way towards us. I stare wide-eyed when he comes to stand at our table.

“Although, now it all makes sense. Hi, I’m Steve Rogers.” He holds his hand to me and as though in slow-motion I reach out to shake his hand.

“Y/N” I say glancing between Steve and James…or Buck. Wait. Suddenly it clicks. I let go of Steve’s hand and turn to face James head on. “You’re James Barnes!” I sit there starstruck as he silently nods looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Wow, I never thought an actual Avenger would be coming to my personal rescue today.”

“Rescue?” Steve’s brows furrow together as he looks between us. He crosses his arms across his chest and I have to tear my eyes away from his biceps.

I reflexively touch my bruised wrist. “I had a… disagreement with my ex. Luckily James stopped things from getting worse,” I meet James’s gaze and my heart flutters in my chest. “So I offered to buy him a tea to say thanks. But I should get going, there’s something I need to do.” James gives me a knowing nod and I push myself away from the table bending down to pick up my purse and tea. “Sorry for interrupting your plans and thank you again, James.”

James quickly scribbles something down on a napkin before standing up with me. “Here’s my number if you need anything,” he says holding out the folded napkin with a small smile on his lips. “And you can call me Bucky.”

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as I reach for the napkin and heat spreads across my face when I meet his eyes. “Okay Bucky, I’ll see you around…maybe.” I quickly turn and head for the door then remember that Steve is still standing there watching everything. “It was nice meeting you Steve!” I call over my shoulder before practically running for the door without waiting for a reply.

******************Bucky*********************

I watch Y/N’s retreating form until she’s out of sight and turn to Steve. He’s got that stupid smirk on his face and I glare at him. “What?” I cross my arms defensively.

“She’s cute,” Steve smiles wider and I have to resist the urge to smack it right off his face.

Instead I just roll my eyes and move around him towards the same door Y/N just walked through. “Shut up, I only prevented her from getting hurt. Are we goin’ or what?” I turn back around to see Steve is still standing at the table regarding me with a knowing look. He’s right though, she was cute and I might’ve asked her to dinner but in light of what I witnessed earlier with her ex-boyfriend…and the pregnancy she has enough on her plate at the moment.

Thankfully, Steve doesn’t say anything else on the matter and I’m forever grateful that Sam isn’t with us or I wouldn’t be hearing the end of it. We walk a few blocks west towards the restaurant we planned on for lunch and are seated shortly after.

We talk about nothing of importance mostly schedules and various missions Steve is set to go on when my phone rings for the second time today. I glance at the screen and it only says unknown number. Normally I don’t answer calls when I’m with someone but my gut is telling me that this is something I need to answer, so I apologize to Steve and answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Bucky? It’s- it’s Y/N. I’m really sorry about this I know you have plans but I might need you to save me again.” Her voice warbles as if she’s trying not to cry.

“Y/N? Are you ok? What happened?” Dread settles in the pit of my stomach as she speaks. Did her ex find her after she left? I look up at Steve and see my thoughts mirrored in his eyes.

“Yeah nothing’s happened it’s just that there’s a crowd outside the clinic yelling at people trying to get in and that’s not really something I want to deal with alone right now.”

Without saying a word, Steve nods to me and I know he’s telling me to go. I nod back and mouth sorry before jumping out of my seat and making my way to the exit. “Where are you? I’m on my way.”

*****************Y/N*****************

I don’t have to wait long for Bucky to show up, and he’s not hard to miss. Being six feet tall and built like a tank everyone seems to just move out of his way. He finds me sitting on the curb of a side street out of view of the crowd and looks me up and down looking for any injuries I suspect. I find his concern endearing.

“I’m so sorry about this,” I say when he reaches me. My eyes sting from the unshed tears still clinging to my lashes. You’re weak. The thought flashes through my head and I hiccup trying to keep my nerves in check. “You probably have stuff to do today and here I am asking you to hold my hand through this.” I try to joke to cover the fact that deep down I’m terrified.

Bucky immediately places his hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eye, “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I thought I could do this on my own but apparently not and I didn’t really know who else I could call.” I sniffle and take a deep breath to steady myself. “Okay I’m ready if you are.” I turn towards the clinic a d clench my fists to help me focus on putting one foot in front of the other

Bucky nods falling into step beside me. I hold my head high as we walk towards the crowd feeling emboldened by his presence, but as we get closer I start to shrink into his side and I bow my head to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Someone shouts something to me and feel a strong arm wrap around my shoulders protectively. I glance up and I see Bucky glaring at anyone who dares to approach us.

We reach the door without any major incident and quickly walk into the reception and waiting room of the clinic. The white walls give me a sense of both unease and comfort as I step up to the front desk and I’m greeted by a smiling nurse.

“Hey there. Sorry about the crowd outside, I hope they didn’t give too much trouble. What can we do for you today.”

“Um, hi. I have an appointment for an ab-” I falter and try again. “An abortion,” I whisper the words as if they would offend the people around me. I take a moment to look around to see if anyone heard me but everyone in the waiting room is either too far away or too preoccupied with their own issues to pay any attention to me.

The nurse asks for my health card and types something into the computer. “Okay, fill this out and we’ll call you when we’re ready for you.”

I quietly sit in one of the chairs to fill out the forms and out of the corner of my eye I see Bucky sit in the chair beside me. At first I’m confused then I realize that he’s probably planning on waiting with me. I feel a pang in my heart at the realization and turn to face him. “Look I don’t want you to waste your whole day here with me, you’ve already done a lot for me and I don’t think I could ever repay you, but you don’t have to stay this might take a while.” I can feel my heart race when he turns his blue gaze on me. There’s a sincerity in his eyes that I haven’t seen from a person in a long time and my heart skips a beat.

“I’m not going anywhere. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

I can’t help the smile that appears on my face or the blush that creeps up my cheeks at his words. “Oh, ok thank you,” I look down at the form I’ve finished filling out and stand to hand it back to the nurse. When I sit back down Bucky is still watching me and I feel as if he’s worried I might pass out or get sick or something. We lapse into a slightly awkward silence as we sit waiting for the doctor.

When my name is finally called I’m relieved to have something else to focus on other than the silence between me and Bucky, but at the same time I’m reluctant to leave his side afraid of what might happen if he isn’t there to save me one more time.

Sensing my nerves he takes hold of my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s going to be ok.”

The warmth of his hand shocks me into moving. Without letting go of his hand I stand up from the chair and take a few steps towards the nurse, who is now holding a door to the rest of the facility open for me. Bucky doesn’t stand with me and with one last look behind me and an encouraging nod from him I let go of his hand and follow the nurse through the door.  

[simpleidiotpsychic]

Serizawa Week Ficlet #2: Power

@serizawaweek2019

Day 2: Gen. Tome learns the true extent of Serizawa’s powers.

AO3 Link

“Fuck,” Reigen wheezed.

It occurred to Tome in that moment that he didn’t usually swear in front of her. She’d assumed he just never swore in general, but now she had a flash of suspicion that he consciously chose to wash his mouth out around her and Mob.

What the hell, Reigen. She was 17, not a baby.

But this thought came and went very quickly because they were both currently running for their lives, and that was a more pressing issue to attend to.

The forest around them bent with a cracking and snapping of trees, like they were wrenching their own roots out of the ground. It was only a little farther until she and Reigen made it back to the village at the edge of this cursed woods, but the sun was blotted out by a mass of darkness chasing after them. At this rate it would catch up to their heels in no time.

Tome had abandoned her dress shoes to run better, and her socks were absolutely sloshing with mud. She wasn’t used to running in a suit either. Since this was the first weekend job they’d allowed her on, she thought she’d put on the charms and prove herself as a useful marketer, fashion and all. She wanted more experiences that could actually be put on a college application when the time came, and maybe she’d been a little inspired by Reigen’s general getup as well. But now even the memory of how snazzy she’d felt earlier was a little bitter with how much the nice blazer weighed her down. At least a suit was better than her school skirts for running, but her tie kept flapping around her head like it was trying to attack her face.

She didn’t want to die looking so stupid. Least of all with Reigen.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” he was spouting like a mantra, stumbling out of the way of a falling log. He threw his arm across Tome’s back--either to keep spurring her onward or to shield her from something, she didn’t have time to check--and then the whole earth heaved under them, throwing them up into the air. Something grabbed her before she fell back down again. The world spun and jerked around. Then she found herself hanging upsidedown with her legs held fast by something itchy like ivy. She blew her tie and her hair out of her mouth. The darkness had caught up with them and she couldn’t see a thing.

“Reigen-san!”

“I’m working on it!” came his voice from beside her, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he was similarly confined.

Well. They’d lost.

“My mom’ll never forgive me if I die!” she yelled, and the darkness grew thicker, suffocating. It was like she could feel it sticking to the insides of her lungs. This wasn’t even supposed to be a real exorcism! It was supposed to be a networking event!

“Your mom will never forgive me, she practically murdered me just because you lost your uniform’s tie--”

“It was your fault for not going down that sewer after it--”

“Are you telling me you’d gladly wear a sewer tie?”

“You’re the worst!”

“I know! Shut up!”

Then all of the sudden the darkness exploded in a blinding wash of purple. The awfulness constricting in Tome’s lungs shriveled up into nothing and she gulped in good, fresh, warm air and blinked into sudden sunlight.

She was hanging in the air not by possessed trees now, but instead by Serizawa’s psychic powers. He had both hands extended toward them. Reigen was weirdly sideways and looking irritable.

“Just in time, Serizawa,” he said, spitting out a leaf.

Serizawa smiled a little, but looked worn out and worried.

He gently tilted them both upright and then floated them to the ground, depositing them lightly on their feet. Tome stood there for a moment, breathing deeply and trying to think of a joke, but then the shock wore off and she realized where she was standing.

Serizawa had not just exorcised the evil entity of this woods. He’d reduced the trees surrounding them to nothing but splinters in an instant. A huge circle was leveled to a fine powder around them, indistinguishable browns and greens all trampled down together, as if there hadn’t been a forest here at all within ten meters.

Tome was stunned. It was more power than she had ever seen Serizawa use.

He was still thrumming with it, a certain intensity in his eyes that wasn’t usually there, a leftover energy radiating from him.

It maybe frightened her a little, how very powerful he was.

Reigen seemed to sense something, because he stepped his way through the rubble and laid a hand on Serizawa’s shoulder.

“Just in time,” he repeated, in an oddly comforting way. “Good work, Serizawa.”

Serizawa seemed to shake off his darker mood and his smile became more genuine.

“You two really need to be more careful,” he chastised.

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

Tome had done some research. She knew that Serizawa Katsuya, perhaps one of the most powerful espers in Seasoning City, had not just popped up out of nowhere.

What could she say? She was a conspiracy theorist at heart. Just out of her own interest she’d been poring over news footage and Youtube cellphone videos of the terrorists who tried to take over the world just over a year ago, and she’d spotted an umbrella among them that made a sick feeling coil in her stomach. After that shock, she’d had to stop prying for about a week or so. It felt like she’d seen something private, something twisted.

But she was always too curious for her own good. She couldn’t stay away from it.

She went to the internet and found a tiny local newspaper story about a boy twenty years ago who hurt four other kids and his own mother in an accident. The story didn’t supply details on the nature of the accident, but it did supply a name.

Serizawa Katsuya.

She started grilling Mob, who to his credit lasted a very long time before he finally caved under peer pressure.

“Serizawa-san has had a hard life,” he said simply. “He drew the attention of cruel people.”

“Tell me about Claw,” she demanded.

So he did. She could tell he was leaving out important details, probably for Serizawa’s sake, but she couldn’t blame him for that. She felt a horrible guilt even asking in the first place, like she was betraying Serizawa and everything he’d done for her.

But she was always too curious. She needed to know.

She’d known for awhile now.

She knew Serizawa Katsuya was powerful, so powerful that he was actually quite dangerous.

And sometimes she didn't know what to do with that.

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

They still had a ways to walk to get back to the village. It would probably take some explaining to tell the villagers why their local forest had a giant hole in it now, but they’d surely be relieved to hear that their evil spirit problem had been greatly reduced.

Reigen talked too much as they walked, like he always did, and Serizawa quietly chuckled off and on. Tome was a little distracted. She’d lost her shoes after all, and now she just felt kind of foolish for dressing like a professional when she was really so over her head all the time.

Also her ankle hurt. A lot.

She must have twisted it or something. It kept shooting pain all the way up her calf to her knee, until she was limping to avoid putting pressure on it. It was just turning out to be an unexpectedly shitty day.

“Are you alright, Kurata-san?”

Tome stopped and looked up. Serizawa had appeared beside her, his eyebrows just slightly creased with worry.

“It’s just my leg…” she mumbled, feeling weirdly embarrassed. Or maybe it was more like ashamed.

Ashamed for knowing. Ashamed for being scared, even for a moment.

“Can I look at it for you?” he asked.

She sat there on the ground and he knelt in front of her, like a knight in front of a queen, and gently rolled her nasty mud sock off her foot. He pressed her heel between thumb and forefinger. It kind of made her think of getting help from her dad when she was little, when she scraped her knee or something. Even now she was still young enough to get that treatment sometimes, if she hurt herself badly enough and her dad was there. If the timing was just right. He was a good dad, all things considered.

Serizawa’s fingers were big but careful, barely touching her unless they had to test something, and then they were firm and sure.

“Does this hurt?” he asked, laying his palm on the bottom of her muddy foot and pushing up slowly.

“No-- not yet-- YEP there it is.”

Reigen hovered over them with a calculating look, but she had a feeling he was just bullshitting because he wasn’t sure how to be actually useful at the moment.

“It’s not broken, but…” Serizawa frowned. “Well. My powers aren’t really good for healing,” he said quietly.

Only destroying things.

She thought maybe she spotted a hint of sadness in him because of that, and she again felt ashamed.

“That’s ok,” she said lamely.

He turned, still kneeling, and patted his back. “Want a ride?” he asked.

She couldn’t help but laugh because it was so ridiculous. They were both still wearing suits. It looked so stupid.

“A ride would be great,” she said.

She climbed up on his back and he looped his arms under her knees and stood. Reigen was sneering at them. But Tome liked this, honestly. She perched her hands on Serizawa’s shoulders and sneered right back because hey she was taller than Reigen now so fuck you Reigen.

Also Serizawa’s back was warm, and she could feel a sturdiness behind her, like he was holding her in place ever so gently with his powers as well, to make sure she didn’t fall.

You’re really powerful aren’t you, Serizawa-san?

But like Mob he didn’t see a usefulness in psychic powers. In the sort of powers that could level trees and take over the world.

He instead saw usefulness in carrying someone on his back, very carefully, making sure they didn’t fall. In having gentle hands.

She remembered what he’d told her about finding out for herself what skills were important to her, and doing her best to put those out into the world. She decided that Serizawa was doing a really good job.

She luxuriated against his back like a queen, or maybe more like a cat who’d stolen her owner’s dinner.

“This is so much fucking better,” she declared.

Reigen’s head whipped around at the swear with the most alarmed look she’d ever seen.

[tamiddyinyourcity]

10:47am.

PROCRASTINATION. DRAMA. MURDER?????

Sunday, April 12th of 2020.

All I had to do was:

Wake up

Cook eggs with bell peppers in em

Grill steak

Maybe make some sandwiches

What I've done instead:

Watched Nikocado Avocado cry on the internet and jiggle his belly fat while eating french toast covered in hot cheeto dust powder or dipping 12 burgers into mac and cheese (even writing the first three words of this stomach gave me organ failure, i shit you not)

Proceeded to have organ failure

Or maybe its stress fueled IBS due to me researching (very lazily) how to can granny apples when in reality i should be frying steak meat and resting

Stressing about how to cook steak since i havent cooked an actual meal with steak in it since.......... idek

Having interviews with myself in my head whenever I zone out

Thought about that dream where Jada Pinkett Smith had sex with me for the sake of some sort of rich people cult that needed to thrive.... and i... i dont know the full context, but it was.... Midsommar-like. (nice, btw, and odd as hell)

Thought and panicked about how my mom full on was coughing into the fridge without covering her mouth and how absolutely disgusted and annoyed I am with her for it

Buying a brita filter water bottle specifically to avoid touching the big ass filtering pitcher we have that she just coughed all over

And some horny thoughts

So, I've been..... doing well at my own pace, even if not achieving my goals, but things take time you know?

And Rowan read my blog, decided to tell me how he felt.

(If you're reading this, hey man. Drink some water for me, its healthy and you probably do need it. You sleep well? Or enough? Just go at whatever pace works for you, my dude.)

[Also, dont read whatever I write next if you think it may or may not be uncomfortable.]

He didn't exactly tell me much I didn't know.

But, still nice that he preferred to tell me instead of not telling me.

Overall:

He's still single and so am I.

He likes me a lot.

Is unsure of why he doesn't do much romantically. (Well, I'd say that a pandemic and living several continents away doesnt leave much room for a girl to get flowers does it? 😂)

And he just kinda said he has low hopes of meeting someone else, or his "dream girl" i guess, and doesn't plan on trading me out for someone else, anytime soon.

Did any of that clear things up for me?

Not at all, really. It just kinda had a "was it not clear i already knew that from the several blog posts i had made" feeling in my mind.

Since yknow, if a girl writes to herself, "I think this guy mainly only likes me as a friend and has a sexual interest, but doesnt plan on expressing much interest further, therefore, i should enjoy being single....."

A man usually does not need to tell her how much he adores her in his life as a friend and doesnt want to lose her, and is unsure romantically (or in more blunt terms, yes, hes single and still looking for more,) but, wants me around.

The hint was already taken, really....

A man who's not made it clear if he has genuine romantic interest or not + still most likely would do what he's doing to you, with others + still wanting you around = oh look, im just as single as them.

In the great words of future... "She belongs to the streets".

(I'm only posting this gif, since when I looked up a possible gif for Future, I thought "oh damn, this girl has a fat ass...)

This image seems fitting.

Anyway.... doesn't mean I'm ending the friendship, he's still a great dude to talk to. I just gotta probably make more time for myself, and maybe relax a bit on the texting.

I've also been listening to a fuckton of her music. It's good "retro bad bitch" music.

Kinda helped take the edge off of breakups in general. Just the vibe of, "Why stress yourself out? You're pretty and smart, you can date whoever you want. Just relax", plus Trina's voice has that special level of attitude and overall blunt anger that is helping me cool off for now.

I really like it.

The release of anger and gain of confidence feels so great, you know? Its so nice. :)

11:15am. Gonna reflect on stuff that makes me angry.

Like that bitch on the Lyf App that tried to call me an asshole for being nervous over if Adrian went to an orgy, back when me and him were seeing eachother. (Not romantically, but still, i didnt need to get crabs all because he wanted to rawdog HotMilfQueen827 with 50 other guys.)

And how she said I was abusive for telling Scotty, a man who was literally so abusive that i got fucked up hearing after he struck me, that oh yes, no girl will ever want to have sex with you again, if you go out of her way to inflict uneccesary pain on her or ignore her consent during sex.

Some people have no brain cells whatsoever.

Might download the app again someday, just to curse her bitch ass out someday. But so far, im still alive and scotty is still a slut with dangerous acts inflicted on women that needs to be affirmed of his actions. I'll finish that video later on today. Peace out.

[palukoo]

so a couple months ago i relistened to w359 and made a 18000 word document while doing so containing iconic quotes, my reactions, feelings, et cetera. heres some highlights with varying amounts of context. (theres lowkey spoilers for the whole series btw)

""""i empathize too much""""

crazy how i still vividly remember walking outside [my old job] and to starbucks while listening to the spider ep... trauma

i mean i dont love it but it makes me feel things

GABRIEL THATS TOO ON THE NOSE

"let me have my badass space chick victory cocktail"

god like i AM team what wrong with handcuffs but I WOULD NOT HESITATE to kill hilbert for hera

the girlssss are fightinggg

THE SAD W359 MUSIC IS KILLING ME

like memoria who maxwell who jk jk

i love you renee minkowski marry me

local idiot's heart is in the right place

HARPOOOOOOONSSSS

lovelace lovelace lovelace loveLACE LOVELACE

"maybe she's some kind of clone thing" EIFFEL... this is day 1!!!

i hate these self sacrificial idiots

no no no not this music again ill cry

yall are so emotionally stunted it fucking hurts but damn if you dont care

literally how are they still alive

i want to hug her so much omg

alan rody shut the FUCK up im crying

rip zach valenti's throat

face the death reality via math

jacobi being a piece of shit

maxwell said lets kill hilbert rights

this is a kepler hate blog

minkowski thinking her emotions dont matter to the mission oh ho ho

"youre gonna straighten up" cutter they cant theyre not straight

maxwell and jacobi show up and blow up lads

"and you should really be more careful with your queen" KEPLER WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

wolf 359 stop making me stan these literally terrible people

FUNZO FUNZO FUNZO

i am caring about men tonight lads

theyre both awful sure go ahead have history

hilbert you interrupted their emotional moment they wouldve had a MOMENT

hera said im gay

ohhhh nooo interpersonal conflict makes me sad

hug minkowski rn

FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC jacobi and maxwell are iconic

minkowski how did you not kill him

how much do yall use the words "good enough" and "cant"

"are you an alien" GOD the Hints

"one of our... sexier jobs" vs "this is gonna said less sexy after that"

eiffel stop cockblocking them

y'all's choice of pronouns IS illuminating

PROTECT HERA AT ALL COSTS

aw eiffel... minkowski... communication is KEY

oh yeah THATS what the psi wave regulator is for.... SURE

hilbert read the room

JACOBI you can't just describe minkowski like that without giving me a heart attack

how many times have all these bitches almost died

SORRY ANYTHING THEY SAY I LOSE IT

oh minkowski finally flipped (VALID)

oh wait that fact isnt fun at all and im literally crying

LIKE sometimes you save someone's life at great personal risk only to kill her a little while later

minkowski cries to “back to before” from ragtime

i feel to many things about the gals here idk what to tell you i love them thats the problem

its gay and it hurts!

lovelace laughing at people who can and will kill her... hot

OH WERE STARTING LOVELACES SELF SACRIFICE ALREADY

they let lovelace say FUCK

OH WAIT NO I FORGOT ITS WORSE

THANKS FOR MURDERING ME WITH YOUR TEARY ANGRY VOICE

ouchie anyways gay or no but also gay

hilarious and sad at the same time?

MAXWELL dont be a bitch... i expect this from jacobi and honestly i actually expect this from maxwell too but i dont like it

NO NOT THIS MUSIC

BROTP BROTP BROTP

i cant say anything else im too busy crying

UGH I COULD WRITE ESSAYS ON MY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS THE MESSAGE THE TAKEAWAY BROADLY THE PERSONAL EMOTIONAL ANGUISH THE DESIRE TO HUG HERA ITS

im mad but thank you... all of you... explain... 

stop stop stop im literally so tense gone straight from sobbing to freeze instinct

GOD I HATE ALL THESE SURVIVALS GUILT IDIOTS

OH theyre all about uncertainty... the what ifs... okay... ouch ouch ouch

give everyone awards for bolero

eris are you gay

she said gay rights and AI rights

like i know i know we been knew but goddard really is so awful

Hera stop narrating Lovelace’s ongoing existential crisis

HOW IS THIS NOT GAY (I know how it’s not gay but. Let me have this)

KEPLER stop giving Lovelace insecurities and existential crises

Team back off lovelace for the win

like not to be dramatic but her arc is beautiful

oh boy thats my girlsssss

THATS FLIRTING MINKOWSKI

god i love that concern for your gf keep it up minkowski

COMMUNICATION? WITH THIS CREW? BOLD

GOD angrey hera is great

you know hera is having the time of her life witnessing it

eiffel you just ruined their romantic moment

minkowski is gonna kill them

a much better gayer more altruistic light

WE’RE ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT COMMUNICATION

WAIT I WAS BEING CANON DAMN I THOUGHT I WAS BEING CREATIVE AND PERHAPS OOC BUT IM IN THE CLEAR I GUESS

god hera has needed to snap at eiffel for so long

i can already feel myself about to get hit with the tears... the emotions

that shit hits different renee

The implications that Goddard like destroyed global warming omfg

it’s the moral grayness babeyyy

when it hits you with minkowski's shaky sigh first thing you know its gonna hit different

MINKOWSKI i need you to. love yourself as much as i love you

GOD the mutual concern they always have for each other is touching whether or not you think its gay. i think its gay

HERA WOULD YOU ASK A COW TO NOT BE A COW

oh of COURSE they cut coms first

lovelace is man, butterfly is quote, it says "is this flirting"

jacobi i need you to chill

but jacobiiiii thats lovelaces schtick

oh eiffel... you fucking idiot who gets really lucky sometimes

this game of chicken where theyre both chickens and kepler doesnt know any of that and each of them only know half

minkowski said im an ethics teacher now

who taught minkowski empathy in high stress situations?

yeah so i stay hitting the nail on the head

“kepler SHUT UP” is what brings everyone together

this is, como se dice.... kinda gay

this statement does not bode well for that

“Maybe less talking to yourself” he says to himself

ugh, to be Pop Culture Man™️

RACHEL i love you even tho I also hate you

Rachel if you make one more hand joke I’ll lose my mind

HER NAME!!!! IS HERA!!!! And I love her!!

i have a vivid mental image of post-series eiffel doing stand up like chris fleming style 

"my crew has made it very clear through a series of looks and gestures that one more slip up and i am out, thats it, so im taking this job very seriously"

"minkowski is very overprotective in a weird, erratic way, like when your seat belt randomly locks and its like i appreciate what youre trying to do but im going 4mph in a drive way."

"so when something like this happens you have to at least consider going away for a long time and living on a cursed space station"

"you know how when maxwell and hera are talking ive never felt less needed, you know, like ‘cause you guys would be totally happy alone on a rock in the middle of a lake"

"this is the kind of body you look at and go he'd probably be ok in space without a space suit"

the whole "theater kids" video is actually him going off about minkowski

minkowski is too swole for her own good

jacobi im gonna need you to take the redemption arc more seriously

i love my crazy crazy bitches

this FUCKING music

GOD HOW DOES PRYCE JUST ALWAYS GET WORSE

she just like mutilated that man he is doa absolutely destroyed one hit ko

can you tone down the gay, sweetie

you did it you broke rachel and Goddard down to their bare essentials

GOSH shes so AWKWARD 

so damn jacobi was just IMMEDIATELY ride or die for maxwell

this is too much for my poor baby heart

pryce & carter literally are just like lets do eugenics, lets do genocide

when hera says ill pull a yall and sacrifice myself for minkowski and lovelace 

god like cant believe KEPLER got a redemption arc (well not arc but you know)

ah yes the most tragic scenes all take place at once :)

I HAD TO STOP LISTENING TO BRAVE NEW WORLD CAUSE IT MADE ME TOO CRAZYYYY

THE SCRIPT SAID IT NOT ME

i love space moms!

this fucking music ALAN RODY IM SUING FOR DAMAGES

like the document also does have a lot of like deep thoughts and meta and parallels and discussion of motivations but this is just fun random things i said

[krokodile]

Tumblr has decided that one of my posts “may contain adult content” and thus is blocked from public view.  However, after digging all the way back through to February, there’s no indicator that it’s been flagged.  So I can’t contest it.

It’s a fucking movie review post. 

I can only assume the bot spazzed out because it contains a review of the documentary “Fagbug.”

Needless to say I’m reposting everything now because I AM SO FUCKING PISSED.  Gay activist movies with inflammatory titles are “adult content.”  

(I mean, it sucked, but still.)

Aside from that, I can’t find any content that would anger a bot.  I mean, if the bot sat down and watched Take Me to the River, it’d probably get mad, but I don’t explicitly discuss any of its content, so...it included a picture of a child in a bathing suit from the waist up?  Is that it?  Did one of the movie posters look like nudity somehow?  Because I looked at all of them and aside from the potentially triggering flesh tones in Happy Death Day’s poster (that creepy baby face sure is sexy amirite) I, again, see nothing.  

And since you can no longer access the posts directly the only way to get the content back is to either harass tumblr via email until they allow the post back up or crawl through your posts on your own account, which can’t be done by day, just by page number.  I can’t begin to imagine how shitty this is for people who have original content worth preserving.

movies watched in 2018

take me to the river:  guys, here’s the thing.  horror is my favorite genre and i’m pretty deadened to everything with “shock value” in film.  this little indie drama here, though?  this genuinely managed to shock me.  i was sitting there at one point unable to believe i was actually watching what i was watching.

please keep in mind that i don’t think that scene was included for the sake of shock value; it was relevant and likely necessary.  i’m just saying that NOTHING gets to me in that way, and this did.

it’s a fantastic film, albeit one of those annoying enigmas with no real answers.  i would love to have an hour alone with the screenwriter just to find out what they were thinking of in terms of backstories.  every major performance is perfect - logan miller is incredible.  everyone’s performance is understated, natural and authentic.  the little girl who played molly - not sure of her name but i recognized her from “louie” - holds her own with some amazing adult performances and is just as authentic as everyone else.  robin reigert is quietly devastating, josh hamilton is equally quietly terrifying, richard schiff and azura skye disappear completely into their characters.  

the pacing is on the slow side, but it works well for the story.  i watched the entire thing with my stomach in knots, having no idea in hell where it was going.  on several occasions i genuinely expected a murder.  i’m not used to movies this quiet and slow being so unpredictable.  i had to keep pausing it to shake off the tension.  it’s also incredibly beautiful to look at.

this is one of those indie gems that is absolutely not for everyone - it touches on some subject matter than many would find deeply upsetting.  and i think the film means to be deeply upsetting, but again, it’s in a way that’s not for everyone.

i do wish there were more answers, because i have so many questions, but it does guarantee i’ll be thinking about this movie for years to come, so maybe they did that on purpose.

as an aside, i kept thinking that the little girl looked incredibly familiar, and then it hit me.  she looks like a miniature allison case.

change the hair color and she’s an absolute ringer.  

(i also got a smile out of her name reveal, just because it’s her cousin asking her how to spell it and she starts with m, and for whatever reason i’m like “oh wouldn’t it be funny if we had the same name,” and at the -o i’m like trying to guess, “maybe she’s morgan, or -”; -l  “...ha.  awesome.”  -l-y “well i’m glad they spelled it properly.”  dunno why that amused me, but it did.)

it - better than i thought it would be in some ways.  it’s not scary at all and the horror aspects are largely bungled, which is a shame because the dude playing pennywise is pretty creepy and could’ve done better stuff with a better script.  i hate the changes they made to beverly’s character, and she and the kid from book of henry were so obnoxiously precocious and precious.  that said, all the other kids were fantastic, including that kid i generally dislike from stranger things.  he was hilarious, and he and the rest of the pack of boys were so natural in their roles you just started to believe that’s who they were.  i’m vaguely looking forward to the sequel.

mammoth - a rewatch; it’s still the same infuriating mansplainy trash it was the first time around, but i wanted mom to see michelle williams’s performance, so.  the cast really is perfect; that’s the one thing it has going for it.

marwencol - this guy’s photography is amazing, and his story is super interesting, but what kept jumping out at me was how fucking great this dude’s coping mechanisms were, even if they looked a little odd.  for example, he has a crush on his married neighbor, so he added a doll based on her to his little village with the intent of having that doll marry the doll that’s his avatar.  the woman got weirded out, told him it wasn’t cool - so he dealt with the rejection by creating a sorceress character who blinked the neighbor character out of that universe and hooked it up with that guy’s character.  like...that’s the weirdest way i’ve ever seen someone handle rejection, but also kinda the healthiest.  he said repeatedly that he had no interesting in actually pursuing his neighbor romantically because he respected that she was married.  he never said a cruel word to her, or complained to the camera about her being a bitch or ungrateful or whatever dumb shit people come up with.  absolutely no threats or hints of violence.  just “i’m hurt by this rejection, so fuck it, i’m erasing her from this narrative.”  like...that’s honestly brilliant.  don’t know why this stuck with me more than anything else, but it did.  i know there’s a drama adaptation coming out soon with steve carell, and i expect that’ll be great.

maudie - i adore sally hawkins so much.  i haven’t seen the shape of water yet; i really only know her from paddington, but there’s just something about her that makes me like her.  and her performance in this is stellar.  i know nothing about maud lewis (besides the fact that i like her paintings) but sally hawkins was easy to fall in love with.  sweet, smart, shrewd, just a hell of a mind but also a huge heart.  

happy death day - i was NOT expecting to enjoy this as much as i did.  it’s really perfectly executed for the type of movie it is.  great comedy - one of the funniest onscreen kills i’ve ever seen - genuine danger and stakes (a rarity in groundhog day type movies), and a main character with actual depth; enough so that you actually care about her and want her to survive this movie (i don’t recognize the actress, but she does a great job with the role).  and a fucking fantastic red herring that totally caught me off-guard.  i was expecting something dumb, a carelessly written splatterfest aimed at the lowest common denominator.  (yeah i’m a horror snob fuck you.)  actually there’s very little blood/gore, which apparently bothered some viewers, but i don’t think any effect was minimized without it.  i had a ton of fun watching it.  didn’t expect that.

dunkirk - i’m just gonna say it.  it was bad.  i’m generally pretty neutral on war movies - for the most part they’re not my thing but there are plenty i’ve enjoyed and plenty i’ve been able to appreciate as good filmmaking even if the film itself wasn’t for me.  this movie is just not good.  generic war movie created around a truly amazing true story that could have been an amazing film.  wasted opportunity.

fagbug - i completely understand why the gay community had worse things to say about this person than heteros did.  ugh.  stop making actual tragedies about you, stop talking over people and stop acting like an epic victim.  

before i wake - surprisingly not bad, could’ve been better.  liked it better before the last few minutes.  it had some clever ideas and it was fun putting everything together, but having it put together for us takes the fun out of it, and making the kids’ “powers” unambiguous is a little...hard to swallow i guess?  but it’s still surprisingly pretty good.

under the arctic sky - random netflix generator told me to watch this and while cold water surfing isn’t something i’m super interested in, the photography is gorgeous.  i can’t pretend i didn’t cry like a little bitch watching the one guy surfing under the northern lights.  just...the world is just awesome.

original post url 

http://krokodile.tumblr.com/post/170571715555

[yodepalma]

ignoct week? :D

Title: Blood Will Remember (ao3 link)

Summary:  When the invitation to Insomnia comes, Noctis knows the gods mean for him to try again. But this time he knows what to expect, and he’s not inclined to play along.

Rating: ...i forgot to rate it. Teen+/PG-13?

Warnings: genderswap, role swap, eventual canonical violence & death (this is only chapter one)

@ignoctweek Day 3 prompt: Reincarnation AU 

These will remain, these will go searching Your veins for life when the flame of life smolders; The night that you two saw the mountains marching Up against dawn with the stars on their shoulders;

The jetting poplars’ arrested fountains As you drew her under them, easing her pain; The notes, not the words, of a half-finished sentence; The music, the silence. . . . These will remain.

-”The Chamber” by Louis Untermeyer

“Of course, the biggest story of today is the Oracle’s visit. The last time Insomnia saw an Oracle inside of her walls was five hundred years ago, and we all know how that turned out—”

“Turn it off.”

The perky reporter’s voice disappears with a soft click, and Noctis sighs as he leans back in his seat. He should’ve known better than to hope for something pleasant to listen to on his drive through the city. There are hundreds of people lining the streets, and there will be more people outside the castle hoping to get a glimpse of him. His skin itches just thinking about all of those eyes on him. Sure, people in the countryside are generally excited to see him, but this is completely over the top.

Well, it’s probably what he should have expected from Insomnians anyway. The gods know his people had never exactly been chill.

“Try to relax, Noct.” Ignis’ hand on his knee drags him back to the present. Noctis takes a deep breath and covers it with his own, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. “We’ll be there in a moment. You must appear unaffected.”

Noctis wants to ask how he knows where they are, but he won’t get an answer. He’s pretty sure Ignis remembers—the evidence is all there, if he looks—but he never talks about any of it. Not even late at night, when he wakes from nightmares and clings to Noctis like he’s scared he’ll disappear.

The car glides to a halt. Noctis looks up and makes a face at the crowd through his tinted windows, because they can’t see him yet.

“Behave.” Ignis squeezes his knee just hard enough to hurt, and gets out of the car before Noctis can respond. Seriously, how does he know?

Waiting for Ignis to open his door gives Noctis a chance to focus on now, so when he reaches out to take Ignis’ hand, he’s prepared for the wall of cheers that assaults him. He puts on his public smile and waves to the spectators, and it isn’t long before Ignis puts a gentle hand on his back and guides him into the building.

“Kinda makes you nostalgic for the Citadel, huh?” Noctis mutters under his breath. Ignis’ fingers twitch against his back.

“Perhaps we can request a tour of the museum before we leave the city.” There’s a bitter note to Ignis’ smile. “You were named after the last true king of Lucis.”

Noctis forces himself not to make a face. He doesn’t want a tour of the Citadel. Who knows what’s been done to it? “Don’t remind me.”

The inside of the castle is blessedly dark in comparison to the sunlight, and their footsteps echo in the cavernous hall. Noctis frowns at the gaudy decorations surrounding them. Absolutely nothing in this place looks functional, all of it golden and useless. It’s hard to believe people actually live here.

“My Lord?” It sounds like a question, but Noctis knows when Ignis is reprimanding him.

“Sorry.” He looks toward the door on the opposite side of the room, where a guard has been waiting for his acknowledgement, and a genuine smile crosses his face. It’s Cor. It’s impossible not to recognize that grumpy face, even with all the hair hanging in his eyes.

“Oracle.” Cor bows at the waist, low enough that Noctis can see that Cor has a ponytail. Noctis bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing hysterically. He can’t believe this version of Cor willingly grew out his hair. “I’m to guide you and your guard to the throne room for the negotiations.”

“Thank you.”

It’s somewhat disconcerting to be following Cor by keeping an eye on his hair, but Noctis tries to ignore it so he can memorize the way to the throne room. He doesn’t want to get lost if he has to get out in a hurry.

Not that he thinks he’ll need to. It’s just better to be on the safe side, historically speaking.

They stop outside of a pair of ornate double doors, and Cor briefly speaks to the guard. Something about him sparks a brief, vague memory, but he doesn’t quite catch hold of it before the doors are swinging open and he’s stepping inside. Oh well. He can’t expect himself to remember everything.

Cor announces Noctis and Ignis to the king and princess, then walks off to the side of the room. Not where the guards are standing, or even to sit with the nobility, but to stand in the little boxed off area for the press. With Prompto, who’s wearing a very fancy camera and his biggest smile. And—is that Dino? Reaching out to take Cor’s hand? Noctis is so not prepared for this.

Ignis gives Noctis a sharp poke, and Noctis moves forward on autopilot. “Cor is holding hands with Dino fucking Ghiranze.” Noctis whispers to him, because someone in this room should be as uncomfortable as he is right now. Ignis’ lips twitch into a brief frown.

“Try to focus, please,” Ignis says, because he wants Noctis to suffer.

Noctis can’t pout in public, but he doesn’t want to look up either. He focuses on the stairs in front of him instead, watches them get closer and closer until he knows he can’t go any further. He and Ignis stop at the base of the stairs, but Ignis doesn’t kneel until Noctis taps his thigh to let him know it’s safe.

Noctis looks up. Follows the golden threads of the black carpet lining the stairs, takes in the sight of Ravus decked out in black with the glow of the crystal behind him, and his heart aches for a power he’s never touched. He tries to keep his eyes on Ravus, because that’s who he’s here to speak with, but they inevitably slide to the left. To a smaller throne, and the woman who sits like a statue in her elegant black dress. The woman who winks at him.

Luna remembers.

The faintest sound of something tapping against metal brings Noctis’ attention back to Ravus. The king takes his hand off his hip and raises his arms to gesture to the room at large.

“It is my honor to welcome the Oracle of Shiva to our kingdom.” Ravus sounds much less annoyed with life than Noctis remembers, but that may be because he doesn’t hate him this time around. It’s probably weird that Noctis finds that so unsettling. “He comes as a symbol of peace in this uncertain time. We look forward to uniting with Accordo not only to ensure peace for this generation, but also for the generations that will come after us.”

Huh, Ravus is actually good at this king business. Noctis never would have guessed.

The speech drones on for some time, and Noctis just can’t bring himself to tune back into it. Ignis will tell him anything important he needs to know later. Instead he looks over the rest of the nobles, picking out the people who are familiar to him. There’s General Big Nose, looking as full of himself as ever. A few different politicians he never could remember the name of. Helen, who’s definitely noticed he isn’t paying attention and is giving him her Mom Face about it.

Clarus and his wife Ianthe, alive and both healthy by the looks of it. Iris is on Ianthe’s right, barely holding in her excitement, and on Clarus’ left—is Gladio a girl? Same scar, same hair, looks like she could pick Noctis up with one hand and toss him across the room. This life just keeps getting weirder.

Ravus’ voice trails off and cameras start flashing, which means Noctis has to pay attention now. Thankfully he only sees Ravus walking down the stairs, and when he gets to the bottom he holds out a hand for Noctis to shake.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” Ravus cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at him, and it’s all Noctis can do to keep his own smile from turning sheepish. He hadn’t thought he was being that obvious.

“I got at least the first thirty seconds.” Noctis shrugs and tilts his head toward the Amicitia family. “I was distracted.”

“I see.” Ravus actually does look like he understands. Noctis’ gaze flicks down to his flesh-and-blood left hand and he wonders. “You must be tired from traveling here. Perhaps a few moments in our garden would rejuvenate you?”

“Yes, I think it would.” Noctis looks over Ravus’ shoulder to see that Luna has already left her throne. Has she always moved so quietly? “We appreciate your hospitality, King Ravus.”

Ravus nods and gestures for Clarus to join them. His older daughter follows him, hips swaying as her heels click loudly on the tile floor. Noctis knows he’s staring, but he can’t stop himself. Gladio is a girl, sure, he can deal with that. But she’s also wearing a dress.

He wonders if it’s designed so she can fight in it. No, that’s a stupid question. Of course it is. Gladio would accept no less.

Gladio catches Noctis’ eye and winks. Flirtatiously. Noctis swears if Gladio starts sincerely flirting with him, his soul will just shrivel up and die. For now he assumes it was a hint to stop staring like a creep.

“If you would follow me, Oracle?” Clarus makes a gesture towards a small, dark door in a corner of the room. His smile is polite but genuine, which means he either didn’t notice Noctis staring at Gladio or he’s quietly planning how he’s going to murder Noctis later. It’s always hard to tell with him.

The door takes them to a cramped, curving hallway. The walk feels like it takes forever. Noctis is acutely aware of the low ceiling and the sound of Ignis’ gloved fingers trailing along the wall as they walk. Ignis is probably furious about his gloves getting ruined.

Going back out into the sunlight makes his eyes water, but the view of the courtyard is worth it. It’s awash with flowers everywhere, a sight Noctis isn’t used to seeing in the city.

“Gladiola will stay with you while you walk.” Clarus settles in next to the door they walked out of, standing at attention and smiling again. “I’ll ensure nobody else comes in to ruin your peace. Including a certain photographer.”

“You can’t blame him for trying, dad.” Gladiola’s grin is sharp. “Or for wanting to see me.”

Noctis rolls his eyes and walks away. Gladio hasn’t change at all.

The courtyard is bigger than Noctis expected it to be. Ignis falls behind him to speak quietly with Gladiola, talking about political things that Noctis has no interest in. He makes a face at the sky and wonders absently if they have a fishing pond.

There’s no pond, but the cobblestone path winds around the flowers and bushes to lead them to the tall willow in the center. The ground beneath it is coated in sylleblossoms, but Noctis barely notices them before his eyes are drawn instead to the bench sitting at its roots.

He has no idea what to say. He’s been waiting for literal centuries to see Luna, and now that he’s here all he can do is stare at her. What if he was wrong about her remembering? What if she was winking because he was staring, the way Gladio had? He can’t afford to look insane in front of the princess, not now.

The man standing at Luna’s side notices his stare and reaches for the weapon at his side. Shit.

“At ease, Nyx.” Luna puts a gentle hand on Nyx’s hand, but it takes a moment of the two staring at each other before he backs down. “I am certain the Oracle will do me no harm.”

Luna gets up from the bench and glides toward Noctis. His memories don’t do her justice, but that may be because she does look subtly different. Her face is a little thinner, but she looks stronger. In body, but not in spirit. He doesn’t think she could have gotten any stronger than she was that day.

“Luna…” Noctis can hardly believe she’s real.

Luna’s eyes fill with tears. “Oh, Noctis. It is you.” She takes the last step toward him and throws her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she cries. Noctis awkwardly hugs her back and closes his eyes. Maybe if he pretends hard enough, he won’t be crying too.

It’s about damn time the gods let them see each other again.

[philsllamasdanslions]

Alphabet Boy

Tw: swearing. Genre: literally fluff, smut, and angst with a happy ending. Words: 3,146 Summary: Phil always pesters dan with the alphabet. Sneering at him in hallways and such. All because In 1st grade he was so nervous he said "A,C,B" but what happens when dan finally loses it and shows dan he's big now? Riding, teeny tiny bit of overstimulation, Daddy kink and rough smut. Pastel! Dan and punk! Phil By the way I suck at grammar and such as you can tell so I'm so sorry about this all and hopefully I'll get better _____________________________________ Dan hated school. He absolutely despised it. He saw no reason to want to go somewhere super early only to learn stuff you'll never use in your life again. So he couldn't help the glare that he wore as he walked through the crowded halls. He couldn't help it, people just got on his nerves. They were loud or picking on someone or some people just didn't know when someone needed to be left alone. Sighing he stuffed his hands in his white jeans. Dan was definitely what people call an aesthetically pleasing person. He wore a soft pastel pink oversized jumper today, white jeans, some pastel lavender converse, and of course his favorite lavender and pink flowered flower crown. Dan never cared what people thought of his outfits. It's his taste and he doesn't force others to like it so he's glad No one has tried to force him not to like it. You see, he didn't hate people because of his outfits or sexuality, no, this school doesn't judge. Everyone accepted him and he had friends, he just knew they respected his wishes to be alone. He hated school because of one person, one person who made his life hell. Phil Lester. Badass punk who somehow managed to beat dans grades by miles. He didn't even study! How was that fair? But still he ruined his life. You see in first grade he was asked to stand and list the alphabet, not that hard right? But you see dan was a horrifyingly shy kid. Still shy, even at 17 years old, but when everyone's watching you and you're shy you speak quickly And of course the dreaded mistake happened. :flashback: Groaning internally he stood shaking slightly. Everyone was watching him, everyone knew him, if he messed up they would never let him live it down. He hated the attention being on him, it made everything so awkward. Some say it was anxiety and some say he was too young and simply shy. Either way Dan Howell was about ready to jump out the window. Deciding he could either embarrass himself or let the teacher embarrass him which also involved getting his mom involved for disrespecting his teacher, he said it once in his head then bolted out "The alphabet, a c b" He quickly glanced around close to tears as everyone snickered. Of course they weren't being mean. Simply being immature like kids their age were. Dan didn't know it just that moment, but a boy in the back of the class snickering to himself was about to change his life in a bad way. For now. :flashback over: Of course people forgot. They moved on in only a week. Soon the biggest discussion was Annie broke her leg and used crutches and everyone got to draw on her cast, but that didn't stop Phil from mentioning it. Didn't stop him from making him cry nightly, and certainly didn't stop him from reminding the whole School that he was stupid. 'Speaking of' he thought dryly as he watched the boy walk over. Phil Lester was beautiful. He couldn't deny that, he had pale skin that dan swears sometimes he can see through him, his body was slim and tall standing at 2 inches above dan which royally pissed him off, his hair sat perfectly on top of his head never having to worry about it curling, and his eyes were enough to make anyone swoon. Still an asshole though. "Hey alphabet fuck up!" Phil said smirking at the Pastel boy with the same glint in his eye he got every time he saw dan, probably hate. "What do you want alphabet boy." He asked glaring at the raven haired boy before him, more than likely here to fuck with him, and not in a kinky way. You see, those weren't cute nicknames that made his heart melt, it was a reminder that no matter what Phil was better than him. Phil usually switched around the nickname but dan continued to call Phil alphabet boy. It was an insult in his mind, probably not in Lesters. "What's the second letter of the alphabet?" Phil asked laughing darkly. Of course he was here to make fun of him. "Hmm I hope it's F for fuck you." Dan said smirking. Phil glared at that and stepped forward pinning the pastel boy against the lockers. He tried really hard not to think about how Phils body fit perfect on his own. "Don't make me punish you Howell. That mouths messed up before but I'm sure we could find better use of it." He whispered darkly grinding his hips ever so lightly to make it seem as though an accident. Dan of course let out a pathetic whimper blushing at the sound Phil could rip out of him at the smallest touch. He hated Phil. He did, But come on, hot guy pinning you against a locker and whispering dirty sentences in your ear? Fuck yeah he was gonna take advantage of it. He felt the hot breathe of the other on his neck and oh god, his neck was his most sensitive body part, he didn't know why but it was. Phil laughed again before backing up, shaking his head and saying "pathetic." Before walking away surely heading to smoke with his friends. And God fucking dammit did Dan Howell hate Phil fucking Lester. Sighing he headed towards his English class a few minutes later. You see dan wasn't stupid, he knew what to do, how to do it, and exactly why. He just didn't care. Nobody took him seriously with English anymore so why bother. He saw no point in trying to impress the others. So he sat down at the back and pulled his sketch book out, zoning out and ignoring the teacher that walked in and began teaching. Dan began to sketch, at first drawing harsh lines that no one else would be able to picture but soon filling in and shading the picture in front of him. It was clearly a cherry blossom tree now. To most people this was just a tree, but to dan he saw the meaning, it explained the beauty of life but also how tragically short it was. "Howell!" He heard his name being shouted, and with a breathless gasp he looked up from his sketch book to see his English teacher. "Finally with us I see." She said before heading back to why learning this shit was "important." He heard a quiet snicker and immediately knew who it was but decided it was best if he just act like he's listening and continue his sketch of a cherry blossom tree. Once the bell has rang he proceeded to get up hoping to leave quickly and go home, maybe play some video games and ignore how fucked up his life was, but that was ruined when his teacher called out "Lester, Howell, I need to speak with you both." Of course. Of-fucking-course. What did Lester do? Had he started something?Groaning quietly he walked over to her desk. "Yes Ms. Julie?" He asked hoping it was nothing serious and he wouldn't have to stay for very long. "You've been failing Howell. Your just not getting this, so I think it's best we get you a tutor." She said. Are you fucking kidding me. How dare she. In front of Phil? Was this just more reason for him to insult me? "Oh, um okay." He mumbled clearly embarrassed and fuck Lester of course he was smirking. "And since Lester has perfect scores, he'll be tutoring you." "WHAT?" He yelled, oh no no no no this couldn't be happening to him. School was different. He had people there, but since he lived alone there would be no safety. This couldn't be happening. He heard Phil quietly snicker and turned to glare at him. "Whatever, your coming to my house, and I don't wanna hear a thing until we're there." He growled before storming out beginning to head to his house. He can't believe she's making him spend time with Lester. He just wanted to go home and relax but no. "Wow what nice words, alphabet slut." He heard. Dan willed himself not to cry at the word slut. He was a virgin so why was he being called something so rude. "I will murder you." He said through his teeth as he clenched them together. "Stop talking." He added on. The walk to his house was silent but he knew hell was to come. Walking slowly dan took this time to think about everything. Why Phil thought it was hilarious to torture him, why the earth was so pretty but held such assholes, and why he couldn't read Phils emotion right at the moment. It annoyed him too no end not to be able to read his emotions. His face was just set in a blank expression giving no hints to what he was thinking about and It made him feel stupid. Soon he was arriving at his house and unlocking the door. "It's not much..but I live alone so I guess it doesn't matter" he shrugged awkwardly. He quickly made his way in inviting Phil inside before closing the door and heading upstairs. He opened his door blushing at the anime and video games that located around the room. "Sorry for the mess" he mumbled. "We could make a bigger mess." Phil said smirking at dan and winking. Dan rolled his eyes but blushed more. "How about we get this over with?" He said sitting down at his desk and pulling out his books. Phil sighed and reluctantly sat down on the bed beginning to explain the chapter they are working on in class. Even though Dan already knew what to do. ~time skip because I'm not a teacher~ They sat there for a few hours working on the lesson. Dan was beginning to get annoyed. He knew all of this he just didn't care so why was he being forced to learn all of this? At the moment Phil was reading over a paper, so he decided to take some time studying him. He looked over his face first, the way his eyelids fluttered the tiniest bit when he read, the way his lips parted ever so slightly, he watched the way his eyes moved along the paper as though it was a girl he found attractive. You see, dan wouldn't lie, he's hot. God he's hot and he definitely wouldn't mind that mouth on his neck, wait shit he can't think like that. Slowly his eyes travelled down to his body, his hands which would be perfect for holding him down, no, none of that, his torso which he could bet would fit perfectly on his, and slowly travelled down to his crotch, of course he was wearing skinny jeans which left almost nothing to the imagination. You know what, fuck it, He was done being teased, he just wanted to be fucked by Phil Lester and he had a plan for that, he would say something to annoy him, then say something in which hopefully he'll take as a hint. So he slowly looked up and said "My eyes have crossed. I am now blind. I can not continue or I will die." He said dramatically. Phil rolled his eyes "just shut up Howell." He said glaring at the pastel boy. Dan but his lip before he spoke lowly, "why don't you make me?" He said fluttering his eyes for effect. Phil growled under his breath before walking over to the boy. Phil knew his plan and if that's what he wanted then that's what he'll fucking give him. Deciding they could do soft later he quickly grabbed Dans hair but before he pulled and they started this he looked down "are you sure you want this?" He asked. See he wasn't a total dick. Dan quickly whined nodding "yes daddy." And fuck every restraint went out the window as he yanked up on dans hair, forcing him to stand. "Say red if you need to stop. We won't continue for another second but you'll need to say it." Phil said. Dan let out a whimper already feeling himself harden at the roughness. Yes he hated Phil, but he wanted to be fucked and screw anyone that judged him for that. "Tell me who you belong to." Phil said dominance clear in his voice as he pulled dans trousers down quickly. "You daddy." Dan moaned blushing and whimpering as the cold air hit his throbbing member that was already half hard. Phil smirked and smacked his ass before saying "I want you to ride me in your jumper and crown baby" he said pushing dan on the bed and undressing himself quickly. He stopped at the edge of the bed stroking himself for a minute while letting out deep grunts. Dan was in pure bliss and he hasn't even been touched yet. He watched as Phil stroked himself and quickly looked up at Phil "can I suck you off daddy? Please daddy wanna make you feel good." He whined his mouth practically drooling at Phils cock. It was huge but not too big and plenty wide. It was definitely perfect in Dans eyes and he needed it in his mouth. Phil smirked at his baby before climbing on the bed and guiding Dans head onto his cock. Fuck. Phil wasn't religious but he was positive this was heaven. Dans mouth was hot and wet and he was kitten licking the tip and Phil was positive he was seeing Jesus. Dan glanced up and made eye contact with Phil as he went deeper taking him down his throat. Pro of being dan Howell. No gag reflex bitches. Phil continued to let out moans and dan pretty much drank them up swallowing Phil down. Phil could only moan as he watched the boy take him and stared in amazement at his lack of a gag reflex. But soon he was getting close and all good things got fucking better as he stood up and shushed a whining dan grabbing the lube from his school bag. Phil walked back over to the bed leaning over dan as he left soft kisses up and down the boys exposed collar bones from his jumper pushing down. Dan whined softly at the feeling of Phil being sweet and his hips thrusted up on their own accord silently begging Phil to get on with it. Phil chuckled whispering a small "needy" to which dan whined at. Phil quickly decided this needed to move on and poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers before taking his pointer finger and moving it in circles around the boys hole. Dan whimpered trying to push back onto the finger and Phil laughed making sure there was enough lube that it wouldn't hurt as much then pushed his finger in quickly. Dan moaned loudly and leaned up sucking hickeys into Phils chest pushing back into the thrusts of Phils finger. "Daddy please" he whined "please daddy I need you!" He whimpered impatiently. Phil looked at dan and smirked quickly pushing in two more fingers loving the way the boys face twisted into pain but his mouth held open spilling moans that proved he loved this. "You've been so bad, being so rude to your daddy, your lucky I'm here to help you, I'd usually never help such a slut." Phil growled out biting at dans neck leaving angry purple splotches. Dan was so close already and this hasn't even gotten to the best part yet. "Daddy please need to cum daddy please make me cum with your fingers then take me with your cock daddy please" dan sobbed out as Phil began stroking him. Phil chuckled "kinky little shit" he said stroking dan faster "cum you little slut." He said thrusting into the boys hole harshly with his fingers. Dan sobbed as he came spilling all over their stomachs and began to whimper at the pain of Phil stroking him and thrusting into his abused hole. "Daddy oh please! Please don't stop!" He sobbed. He wasn't really sure if he was pushing back to get away from the pain or to get to the pleasure faster as his hips moved on his own. Deciding it was time and dan was hard enough he rolled them over lining his cock with the boys red hole. "Ready baby?" He asked sucking more hickeys into the boys neck. Phil whimpered letting out breathy moans as he nodded quickly and that's all it took for Phil to smirk and drop dan into his dick. Dan continued to sob and moan slowly starting to move up and down making sweater paws and biting at his knuckles through the jumper to shield his sobs. Everything was so much. It was too much but not even close to enough and dan swore up and down this was going to kill him. Dan let out a series of small "daddy's" and whimpers of "ah ah ah" and Phil couldn't get enough of it as he flipped them over again pounding into dan roughly feeling himself get closer to the edge. "Daddy!" Dan screamed as he came again and Phil followed not far behind as he moaned loudly slamming into dan one last time before stilling and pulling out. Phil then got up and went to walk away when he heard a small sob and a tiny voice saying "your leaving?" At which Phils heart exploded with pure fondness of this boy. He never hated dan, he loved him, he just knew he would never go for someone like him so he teased him. Turning around his heart broke at the sight of dan looking up at him with tear tracks down his cheeks his eyelashes wet and his lips formed in a pout. He looked so vulnerable he would swear this wasn't the same boy who called him daddy no less than two minutes ago. "No baby I'm gonna go get some towels, run a bath, and get you some water. Want anything else love?" He asked kissing the boys forehead. Dan thought for a minute before nodding shyly "I um, is this, what, what are we?" He asked blushing. Phil melted and smiled "we're us love." And went to grab this stuff leaving dan to blush. Okay maybe he wasn't so bad. Still an asshole though, he laughed to himself. And that's how he spent the rest of his night, being cuddled and pampered while they watched anime. And Of course he had questions and he didn't fully forgive Phil yet but he knew he would eventually. Because Phil was HIS alphabet boy. "My alphabet boy" he mumbled kissing Phils jaw. To which Phil smiled. ----------------------------------- The End

[veronicamarsbars]

So I rewrote the Reveal Scene... A ‘Wren is Charles D’ Alternate Ending

Alternate timeline where Spencer is still a Hastings, and Alex Drake does not exist. Therefore Mary Drake is not Spencer’s Mom, only Charles’, and took the blame for Dunhill’s murder because of her guilt for killing Jessica and her want to redeem herself to Alison. So there is absolutely no incest between Wren/Charles and Spencer. Alison’s babies’ Dad is not Wren in this timeline. Some of the events have changed or been pushed up in the timeline to fit better with this reveal so that most things make a lot more sense.

Also apologies if it isn’t written in correct formatting, I’ve never done screenwriting before. 

THE REVEAL SCENE:

The Liars prisons are opened, only one layer of glass screening blocks them from escaping. They all stand in each individual cell; confused, once again drugged and trying to recover from the effects of that. Things are hazy at first, but soon the light in the room becomes less blinding and the figure in the black hoodie becomes clearer.

WREN: Surprise! [As he says this, he pulls back his hoodie to show his face, smiling from excitement] Finally, you’re all here. Right in front of me, locked inside like rats [pause] You won’t be escaping this time.

SPENCER: Wren? [blinks several times to adjust her sight] Is that… [notices his black hoodie] you’re… You’re A.D?

WREN: [Laughs hysterically] Oh, Spencer, really? [takes a step towards Spencer’s cell, sudden shift in demeanor] Wren was always nice, wasn’t he? Kind. There for you every time you needed someone. There to put back the pieces, right? [Facial expression turns serious] You really think that I’m Wren?

HANNA: [confused] You’re not Wren?

WREN: Not anymore. I was for a few years, though. Oh he was a lot of fun, wasn’t he? [turns to Spencer] We sure had a lot of fun, Spence. Heated kisses in the middle of the night, your forbidden lover?

SPENCER: [Turns away in disgust]

WREN: By the way Spencer, I never meant for any of that to happen but… being with you gave me a little bit of freedom, something I never had growing up. It was like living the teenage years I never got to have, with you. [walks back into the middle] Melissa was the original plan, I swear, then I could keep close by at all times. Have a connection with at least one of the families so my appearance wouldn’t seem entirely unusual. [looks to the ground, tone changing, voice softer] but you surprised me Spencer. You really did.

SPENCER: [heated, angry, frustrated] So who are you then? If you’re not Wren… Who are you really?

WREN: [smiling again] You almost figured it out, didn’t you? Standing in that room in the dollhouse, I was right behind you – and you knew it too. You knew that person. You felt the connection, you just couldn’t see me, you couldn’t quite pin it down—

SPENCER: Charles…?

ALL LIARS: [Look to each other in confusion]

ALISON: You can’t be…

WREN/CHARLES: Oh Ali, but I am. [walks closer to Ali, evil glint in his eyes] It’s been so long, hasn’t it? I was waiting for the perfect time to tell you, to show you how messed up our families are, but I guess you have figured that one out by now.

ALISON: I don’t believe you. You’re not Charles… Charlotte was Charles!

EMILY: How can we trust what you say, Wren? Charlotte told us everything, she was even locked away for everything she did to us!

WREN/CHARLES: [angry] That’s what happens when you hire a psycho to do the job for you! [takes a moment to pause, breathes] That night in the dollhouse, I was going to reveal myself. But they were onto us, your friends, lovers, the police! I had to get out of there before they found me, so I left. I tried to get CeCe out of there too but it was too late.

SPENCER: So why would she just take all of the blame for you, especially if you just left her there? Why wouldn’t she have just rat you out to the police?

WREN/CHARLES: [chuckling quietly] Well, it seems she was a lot fonder of me than I was of her. She was already… under a lot of stress, mentally. She was never really quite all there, like her reality was distorted. She was perfect for the job.

ALISON: [takes a step away from the cell door] She was only lying? To cover up for you?

HANNA: Because she loved you?! That’s ridiculous!

WREN/CHARLES: [narrowing his eyes] Oh believe me, if she hinted to me at all I would have ended her. And she knew that, too. [pause] She loved me, yes, but she knew her place. She knew the things I would have done to make sure she’d never speak again.

ALISON: Did you… Did you kill her?

WREN/CHARLES: [smiling] No, no Mona definitely did all of that on her own. Funny, really. I was working hard to get CeCe out of there, because she kept me a secret and took the blame; she deserved my help. I sent in Archer to get her out of there, it was a long process but we all managed to pull through it. [shakes his head] until Mona came along. That bitch is crazy though, should have seen her coming a mile away.

HANNA: Don’t call her crazy.

WREN/CHARLES: Touche. [pause] Although, if I remember correctly, you were one of the girls that bullied her into an almost psychotic state of mind. Right?

HANNA: [swallows, looks to her feet]

SPENCER: So you’re really… Charles DiLaurentis. [pause] And you’re A.D. [shakes her head] this is crazy.

ARIA: How did you even… find the game. Did Mona tell you about us?  

WREN/CHARLES: Find the game? [laughing] Oh Aria, I didn’t find the game. I created the game.

HANNA: But Mona…

WREN/CHARLES: Mona never met me. Mona never knew the face or the name she was taking her orders from, only that they went by the initials A.D. [turns to look at Alison] For your darling name of course, Ali. [starts to laugh again] Freaked Mona out a bit when she got her first note from me.

EMILY: It was you, this whole time?

ARIA: All these years?

WREN/CHARLES: Yes. [looks to each girl]

SPENCER: But why Wre—Charles? Why would you hurt us all, for all of that time… [voice becomes angrier] You tormented us! For what, you just wanted someone to feel pain? Is that it!?

WREN/CHARLES: Spencer, you know the story. I mean, it was poorly executed. It was heavily improvised by CeCe, she had to act quickly. It was awful, but you all believed it [pause] You know a lot of the things she said didn’t even match up, right?

ALISON: How were we supposed to know that she covering up for someone else?

WREN/CHARLES: I guess you’re right, but if it was me I would have wanted to check her facts. [laughs] But why did I become A.D, you ask? [goes closer to Alison’s cell, so close in fact that he leans against it, his face inches from the glass] It was all you, Alison. You took my life away. You forced me into that Sanatorium. [glares at Alison] You took away my freedom.

ALISON: I did nothing to you.

EMILY: [tries to catch Charles’ attention by leaning on the glass towards him] It wasn’t her fault! You were the one who tried to hurt her, when she was only a child. Your actions put you in there, not Ali.

WREN/CHARLES: [laughing begins again]

LIARS: [all try to take in the information, almost too shocked to even speak]

SPENCER: So you wanted revenge? Is that it?

WREN/CHARLES: [takes a step away from Ali’s cell, voice becomes a lot more emotional] I wanted Ali to hurt just as much as I had been hurt. [grimaces] When they put me in there, in that prison, they took my name away from me. I became Drake, just like my mother. I was abandoned. [pause] but then Mona came along. [eyes light up again, taken out of emotional trance] She was my first opportunity. I was locked up of course, but Mona wasn’t. She was just visiting to get her weekly therapy, because of the bullying.

SPENCER: You met with her?

WREN/CHARLES: No, like I said, she never saw my face. That would be too dangerous. I slipped her notes. The first one I signed A.D. and she flipped out, she didn’t come back for a while. I thought I scared her off, I thought I’d just gotten rid of all chances I had to get back at Alison. But she came back, and she agreed.

ALISON: To what?

WREN/CHARLES: [smiling again] to be my minion. I couldn’t get out of Radley, but she could leave whenever she wanted. You see, she was struggling. Vulnerable. Easy to manipulate. And when she heard that I wanted to torment you, Ali, she was all in. She started sending threats to you that summer, and that’s how it all began.

SPENCER: But she was caught, put into Radley. Why not tell anyone about you?

WREN/CHARLES: She didn’t know me. She only knew that I was called A.D. She had no evidence of me even existing, I made sure of that. She couldn’t tell anyone even if she wanted to.

HANNA: You manipulated Mona, and made her obsessed with the game? [angry tone, look of hatred in eyes] You put her into Radley!?

WREN/CHARLES: She got obsessed all on her own, it wasn’t my fault that she couldn’t keep her head straight. And she was caught because she was sloppy, messy; she left too many clues around. She didn’t clean up after herself, but that didn’t matter. Because none of it connected back to me. [pause] and after Ian failed me, I knew I had to make my choices on who worked for me a little better.

SPENCER: Ian?

WREN/CHARLES: The N.A.T club. The videos they recorded were all sent to me via Ian, he was given money anonymously for every video of Alison and her friends that he could get to me. But then those videos were leaked and practically useless, I had to dispose of Ian.

ALISON: After the club, and all those threats I was getting, I left. I was gone. Why not just leave Rosewood while you could? Get out of that town and go somewhere new?

WREN/CHARLES: I wasn’t finished. You think I could just let you slip through my fingers like that, without any consequences? [pause] After you left, I knew that if I started to hurt your friends, and manipulate them, you would come back. Or they would try to find you. [pause] They were my only lead to you, and it worked.

ALISON: But I was dead. To everyone. No one knew I was alive.

WREN/CHARLES: I knew you were alive. Because I saw Bethany get killed, the one in your grave. I was going to kill her, but Mona got to her first. And then Melissa buried her in Ali’s place, none of that was part of my plan. None.

SPENCER: Melissa thought I killed Bethany, so she buried her to protect me.

WREN/CHARLES: Yes, she did. Naïve. [starts to pace] Bethany Young came to Radley during the beginning of that summer. Jessica liked her. I pretended to like her.

ALISON: My Mom?

WREN/CHARLES: [stops walking, stands in front of Ali’s cell] Jessica thought our friendship was good for me. She visited me quite a bit, she even showed me photos of you and Jason. She thought, because Bethany looked like you, that I could learn to forgive you through being friends with her. They started this whacked out therapy, dressing Bethany up like you. I feigned recovery and they thought it was working.

SPENCER: The dress.

ALISON: [looks to Spencer, realises the truth] My mom bought two dresses that looked the same. [pause] Charlotte told me it was for her when she transitioned, but it wasn’t. It was for Bethany. It was for… your therapy.

WREN/CHARLES: Bethany, Bethany, Bethany. She kept acting like she was you. I think Jessica’s so called therapy was making Bethany worse, and it definitely made me angrier. [closes eyes for a second, visibly tries to calm himself] Bethany found my plans of escape, she found out about my connection with Archer; he created Wren Kingston, my new identity to be. She found everything, and then escaped Radley; but I followed close behind. [eyes look dreamy, peaceful] That was my first night out of Radley in so long. I could breathe again. [snaps back into reality] I saw Bethany walking along one of the streets, and I followed her. She was walking up to Alison’s house, and that was when I hit her over the head with a rock I’d picked up. But it wasn’t Bethany, was it [eyes directed at Alison] it was you. You were wearing the same damn yellow shirt as Bethany was.

ALISON: That… was you?

WREN/CHARLES: Jessica saw me from inside the house, and when I saw your face I knew I screwed up big time, I knew I hadn’t killed you; the blow wasn’t hard enough. But I knew Jessica would be mad that I hurt you, so I ran for it. On my way back to Radley I saw the real Bethany… Mona was there with the shovel and then… she killed her, thinking Bethany was Alison. That night I called Archer and he got me out of Radley for good, I became Wren Kingston and for the next two years I laid low. Trying to find you, Alison. It wasn’t until Aria returned that I found out about your group of friends, and then I derived my plan. Become A.D again and use Mona to torment you all, so that Alison would return and I could finally get my revenge.

SPENCER: There’s one thing I don’t get [pause] wouldn’t people recognise you? Like Jessica? Mr Dilaurentis?

WREN/CHARLES [smirking] Archer set me up with a whole face change. I was paranoid that people would know me, even though I barely existed. I got them to change everything… except for my eyes of course; that was impossible. When I was Wren, I swear Jessica saw my eyes and shivered, but I knew she would never have guessed. [Turns to Alison] She thought I was dead after the night you disappeared. She thought you were dead Alison, and that I was dead too; that’s why she never told anyone about what she saw.

HANNA: This is all… just insane.

SPENCER: [tries to hide her emotions] all of those times I thought you were Wren Kingston… you were the tormentor behind all those masks. You were the puppet master controlling all your little minions. You tore friendships and relationships apart…

WREN/CHARLES: I admit; the game was obsessive. I understood Mona’s obsession after a while, having the power to finally control people instead of always being the one controlled gave me great satisfaction. But I never regretted a single part of it.

SPENCER: [thinks for a moment] Back when I was in Radley, you were working there. Why bother getting me on the A Team? Why work there at all?

WREN/CHARLES: [rolls his eyes] Mona was unreliable. She still did things for me but I needed more help. I had CeCe on my team by then, and before that, Toby. It wasn’t enough, things were going to get big and I couldn’t do it on my own.

SPENCER: Unfortunately for you, a lot of the people you hired weren’t on your side. Not really.

WREN/CHARLES: You’re absolutely right. But no matter, because I still got Alison back to Rosewood. And I still got you all into that dollhouse. And as for working at Radley, I went there for Mona at first. But when you were committed Spence, [he says as he turns towards her] I knew I had to stay. It was all a big risk but I was willing, besides, this game is all about risks. I almost got caught by that imbecile Eddie Lamb, but he got what he deserved.

ARIA: Eddie… Eddie Lamb was interviewed by Ezra for his book.

WREN/CHARLES: Yes, he was. He caught me up a few times, and then he started to say stuff to Ezra. You’re lucky Aria, Ezra was very close to being… silenced. Forever. But getting rid of Eddie Lamb, that was all that had to be done.

EMILY: You’ve “gotten rid of” a lot of people. Who else did you kill?

WREN/CHARLES: Nobody else, at least, not by my own hands.

ALISON: What about… what about my Mom?

WREN/CHARLES: I didn’t kill her. Even though she enabled my imprisonment in Radley… She was the only one who still cared. Whatever reason she had to visit me, some of those times pulled me through to the next day. That place… Not being able to exist as a person, to walk free; to be shunned from my own family [pause] it really got to me. [turns to Alison] I didn’t kill her, but Mary did. She had her own reasons. Now I’m sorry to be leaving you, but I have certain matters to attend to. [Presses ‘lock down’ button, all cells are now covered by a thick screening. Girls protest by shouting, but Charles ignores them].

END OF REVEAL SCENE.