#there's this one bridge and viewing area at the end that looks like it's being slowly devoured by sentient foliage

[keldjinfae]

I was tagged by the indomitable-not-abominable @renmackree to pick a random image from my camera roll. Most of it is comprised of animals or landscapes, but this one is an "accidental dick pic" of my sister, that she took of herself while she was trying to capture yet another view of one of our favorite places, the salt marsh. Fun fact: I either come up with a lot of my fic ideas or write them out while I'm in the swamp.

If they would like to participate, then I have tags for @dear-massacre @nerdherderette @oldefashioned @ice-mage and @vmures

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final)

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 3k (part 1)

Chapter Summary: Officer Seo Changbin arrests you and has some one on one time with you before taking you to the station. You meet the other officers. (This chapter is Changbin focused, but a little bit happens at the end with the other officers.)

a/n: This fic will be in multiple parts because I get too impatient not to share what I’ve written so far. There will be two, possibly three installments turns out it will be more like 6 (tag list is open).

I refer to the officers as “Officer Hyunjin”, “Officer Minho” etc just to make it quick to identify the characters. 

The whole premise is planned and explained in the fic. The story is purely fantasy, but please be mindful of content warnings, as it has potentially triggering content. I want you to be safe here on my blog.

CW: planned fantasy role play, police arrest, nudity, unprotected sex in a semi public space, pain kink, roleplay pain, anal play, blow jobs, cum eating, name calling (both praising and degrading), reference to sexual acts, imprisonment, restraints (handcuffing).

🚨🚨🚨🚨

The lights of the police patrol car reflect in your rear view mirror, signaling for you to stop your car.

“Dammit.” You sigh as you pull your car over to the side of the road.

You watch in your side mirror as a police officer emerges from his patrol car, and your heart rate increases when you see the well built figure approach your window. 

“Everything okay, Officer?” You say innocently.

“I’m gonna need you step out of the vehicle, Ma'am.” He says sternly.

“But I wasn’t speeding.” You protest as he opens your car door and pulls you out.

“Ouch! You’re hurting me!” You writhe against him, but he’s too strong.

“No. But you’ve just resisted arrest, so you’re in big trouble little bunny.” He slams you front first against the side of your car and proceeds to handcuff your hands around your back.

“You’ve got the wrong woman, Dude!” You cry.

“That’s Officer Seo Changbin, to you.” He tears you away from your car abruptly and tugs you towards his police car. “In.” He throws you in the back of the car like a rag doll.

“But my car!” You wail, as he slams the door and hops into the driver’s seat.

“Shh. It’ll be impounded. Now not another word.”

“But you haven’t read me my rights! You can’t do this!”

But Officer SEO Changbin ignores you as he drives away.

After half an hour of you demanding he explain what you’ve actually been arrested for, and half an hour of being met with silence, Officer Changbin pulls off the main road and parks his car in a deserted space under a bridge.

Alarm bells go off in your head as you look around. The area is absolutely deserted. You frantically try to formulate a plan to escape. But even if you did escape, you’re fucking handcuffed.

The Officer opens the back door and slips in beside you, holding a tablet and stylus. “Y/n. Twenty five. Female. Submitted a ‘free use jail fantasy’. That is you, is it not?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

You stare at the man, but remain silent. Isn’t that one of your rights?

Changbin sighs. “This is your contract. I need you to understand the terms of our engagement.”

He holds the tablet in front of you so you can read exactly what you signed yourself up for. 

I, y/n, agree to being held prisoner in a police station setting, where eight men have the right to use my body how they see fit. This includes: degradation, humiliation, spanking, oral sex, vaginal penetration, anal penetration (includes use of fingers), double penetration, rough sex, use of props and restraints. 

Please read below for further details.

You scroll through the rest of the pages. Details of the acts that may take place, photos of the men and their role, special interests and skills. They are fucking handsome as hell too.

What the fuck have you signed up for? It sounded good in your head. It sounded good when you applied. But now it’s real.. You gulp and look at the Officer. 

“Sign here.” He points to the space at the bottom of page 12.

“Umm…”  you nudge your head towards your restraints.

“Oh yes of course.” Changbin releases your cuffs, opting to secure them in front of you instead. You take the stylus and sign on the dotted line.

You only live once right?

“Great. So as of now you belong to us. Well, for the next 24 hours.” He says matter of fact.

You suck on your lower lip. “So, like right now you could get me to do…things?” You say in a small voice.

“Yes, that’s right. I could instruct you to do things. Or, I could just do things to you. Free use, remember?” He takes the tablet from you and places it next to him in the seat. Your eyes fall on his thick bicep and you feel an ache between your legs. He sits back, slouching against the backseat, and his eyes drop to your bare leg.

A heavy silence fills the car. 

Changbin reaches out to squeeze your thigh, just above your knee and you hold your breath as his hand slowly slides up under your skirt.

“Show me your panties.” He whispers, lifting your skirt up. You open your legs for him. 

His plush, pink lips part slightly.  “Take them off.” He instructs.

You shimmy your panties off and wait for your next instructions. 

“Unbuckle my belt.”

The chain of the handcuffs rattling, and his heavy breaths are the only sounds as you bring your hands to his belt. “Uunzip my pants and take out my cock.”

Your heart begins to race, and your mouth becomes dry, as anticipation and fear bubble in your stomach. Your fingers shake as you unzip his fly and pull his length through the opening of his boxers. Fuck, he is so thick. Your eyes flick up to his.

“Suck it.” He says, staring at you.

You take a deep breath and bring your mouth closer to the fat tip, wondering you you’d even be able to stretch your mouth around it. You kiss the slit. Changbin hisses. “Don’t tease.” He says with a gravely tone. 

You swirl your tongue around the tip, then along the shaft, moistening it up. But Changbin is impatient, and he presses his hand on the back of your head, indicating that he’s had enough of your chaste ministrations.

You stretch your mouth around his girth and sink your head down over him. God, he’s not going to fit. You’re going to choke. 

“C’mon, deeper.” He pushes your head, coaxing you to take more of him. Your eyes immediately water, but you do your very best to suck him enthusiastically.

You feel his hand slide down your back and over your ass. You whimper when he lifts your skirt up and he spanks you on the ass. “Deeper.” He moans. 

You lift off and take a big breath before taking him back in your mouth, forcing yourself to take even more of him. His fingers finds your pussy, sliding them  through your wet folds. He gathers some of your arousal and brings the pad of his finger to your asshole. 

“Hmm… you feel like you’re gonna be so tight. The boys are going to have fun stretching out this little thing. You won’t be able to sit for a week.” He chuckles. 

You moan at the thought, excited to be used.

Changbin’s finger breaches the tight ring of muscle as he presses inside. It’s just to the first knuckle but it’s making you hungry for more.

“That’s enough for now.” He decides, withdrawing his finger and pulling your mouth off his cock. You sit up whining at the loss. “Are we going to go to the police station now?” You inquire.

Changbin scoffs. “Greedy little thing. Can’t wait for what’s in store for you.” He strokes your tear stained cheek. “We’ll go soon. But not until you ride me. Climb on.” He nods towards his cock. “I want first feel of your pussy.”

You straddle Officer Changbin, wrapping your still cuffed hands around his neck, and he holds his cock steady for you as you lower yourself down on him. “Fuck!” You squeak as you feel the tip against your entrance. “You’re so big Officer. I’m not sure I can take you.” 

You swallow, looking into his eyes. There’s lust there. You can see it. He looks like he could hurt you, but there’s a kindness in his expression too, and you wonder if the other men will be like him?

“If you can’t take my cock, how are you gonna take two at once?” He whispers. “Sit on it. I want to feel your walls wrapped around my dick.”

“What if I say no? What happens?” You challenge him.”

“‘No’s not your safe word.” He grips your hips and slowly lowers you down onto his length. “Just keep your eyes on me, sweet thing. Shhh. I know Binnie’s thick.”

You shake your head. “It’s too big.” 

“It’s gonna feel good. I promise. Let me stretch your tight little walls.” He breathes against your cheek.

You feel yourself stretching for him, slowly relaxing to accommodate his size. Inch by inch you feel him fill you. 

“You are tight aren’t you? Fuck, like a vice.” He closes his eyes and tries to steady his breath.

You push yourself down all the way and pause. 

Changbin opens his eyes again and lifts your skirt so he can see where you’re impaled on him.

“See. Look at that.” He says in awe. Your eyes follow his as you lift up slightly and lower yourself again, watching him disappear inside you. 

“Bounce on me. Show me what a good little girl you are, and I’ll put in a good word in my report.”

He digs his hands into your ass cheeks, spreading them and using his grip on them to bounce you.

“I need you to scream for me. No one’s gonna hear you, but I want you to scream your lungs out anyway.”

He grips you tighter, and as though you weigh nothing, he lifts you up and slams you down. You cry out. “Again!” He growls as he slides you up his cock, and drops you back down. “Scream.”

You cry out, screaming loudly.

“Hurts doesn’t it, bunny?” He uses his hips to fuck up into you ferociously.

“N-no…feels goo-”

“Say it hurts. Scream like it hurts.” He growls and throws  you off him and pushes your face into the car seat. He lifts your hips to meet his cock and thrusts into you forcefully. Every thrust is deep and hard. Your pussy feels stretched to its limits. 

He’s relentless, pounding into you harder and harder. The sound of your bodies colliding filling the car. The windows are steamed up, and you're certain the car is rocking wildly.

“Stop… please… too hard…it hurts…” you scream. But you don’t use your safe word. It actually feels incredible.

“Is Binnie too much, hmm? Poor little cunt struggling to fit me?” He mocks you.

You scream louder. He picks up the pace. 

“Fuck…I’m coming!!!” You let out the loudest scream your lungs can muster, as you clench your walls around Changbin’s cock.

“That’s it, so nice and loud for me.”  He helps you ride out your orgasm and then withdraws from your still quivering cunt.

“Good, compliant little bunny. Come, drink up.” He strokes your hair as he helps you turn around so you can wrap your lips around his cock again. He pumps the length a few times until you feel his hot, thick cum coat your tongue. 

“Open. Show me.” The tilts your chin as you present to him your mouth full of semen. “Swallow it up for me.”

You keep your eyes locked on him as you swallow the thick, salty substance, and then open back up to show him.

“Good girl. We need to get you into your cell.” He smirks and gets back into the front of the car.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

It’s almost dark when you get to the police station and you’re feeling incredibly nervous about what lies ahead. 

Changbin helps you get out of the vehicle, leaving your panties on the floor, and escorts you up the front steps of the building. It actually looks like a real police station too, and you wonder how on earth they managed to have access to this place.

The seven other men are waiting for you. They eagerly stand up from their desks as Changbin walks you past until you reach the cell at the far end of the room.

“In.” He grunts, removing your handcuffs and pushing you inside and slamming the door closed behind you. You quickly take in your surroundings. There’s absolutely nothing in your cell except a mattress with two folded blankets on top.

“So this is the sweet thing we have to break?” One of the men jeers. 

“This will be fun.” Another adds.

You turn back towards the men, who are all lined up on the other side of the bars. They watch you. So many eyes. On you. Some look mean. Others look kind. You recognise each of them from the photos, and you know from your research you need to watch out for the ones named Seungmin and Minho. 

“Y/n. Come meet the officers.” The Chef, Chan you believe his name is, says firmly.

You take a step forward.

“No.” He stops you. “First, strip.” 

“Oh!” You squeak. You hesitate. Are you really ready for this? But there’s something thrilling about this situation, and you know, deep down, even though you’re nervous, scared even, you don’t want to stop. Your hands tremble as they grasp the hem of your top and you pull it over your head. Leaving your top half In merely a flimsy sheer bra.

“Fuck. She’s hot.” One of them men whistle under his breath.

“The skirt too..” Chan barks.

“B-but-“ you remember you’re not wearing underwear.

“Skirt. Off. I don’t like repeating myself.” Chan snaps.

You lower your eyes as you peel your skirt down and let drop it to the floor.

“No panties. What a slut.” Minho smirks.

You can feel all eyes on your bare pussy. 

“Look at the officers before you y/n.”

You lift your head and look at the men.  

“For the next twenty four hours these men own your body. They want your cunt? You let them have it. They want to fuck your ass? It’s theirs. They want to take you two at a time? Tie you up, use restraints? You do not resist. They feel they need to punish you? You take it willingly. They want to degrade you, humiliate you?” 

Seungmin laughs at that.

“They can. If they want to treat you nice, be sweet, they’re allowed to do that too. But you don’t come without permission. They control your orgasms.”

Chan basically recites  your submission request back to you.

“Alright. Come forward to meet the officers who will be taking good care of you over the next twenty four hours.” 

You take a step forward. “On your knees.” Chan corrects you.

You drop to your knees, the floor is cold and hard, and you crawl over to where the men wait.

The one named Minho comes forward and presents his erect cock to you, sliding it through the bars. “Come say hello, kitten.” He says coldly.

You look up at him as you wrap your mouth around him, and he immediately takes hold of the back of your head to keep it still while he fucks your mouth. You hear several belts being unbuckled around you.

So this is the introductions then?

“Changbin and I will leave you to it.” Chan informs the group and he and Changbin leave you with the remaining six officers.

From what you can tell from the way Minho holds your head and watches you with intense eyes, is that the man can read your limits. He pushes in just enough to make you gag, but not quite making you choke. His rhythm is smooth and consistent, and when he cums you know he’s holding back a pretty moan. He’s definitely a dom, but one that really understands a sub.

Felix, the pretty and gentle blond, is careful with your face, he doesn’t push too far, and he lets you use your hand on him. But there’s a glimmer in his eye that tells you he doesn’t mind the kinkier side of things, or that he might like seeing you in pain.

Hyunjin. He doesn’t even have to speak and he’s got you blushing. Just the way he’s looking at you, his tongue licking his pretty lips, has you dripping down your legs. The man is beautiful, sensual, and  the way he’s working with you as you work his cock, moving with your mouth and hand, makes you believe he finds sex to be about connection. You’re not entirely sure how that will play out.

Jeongin. Seems sweet and innocent, but his entire expression changes to demonic once his tip hits your throat. You’re not sure what he has in store for you, but you know it’s not going to sweet, and you find yourself imagining all sorts of scenarios with him.

Jisung is next. Confident, demanding with his cock. Mumbles “slut” a few times, and thrusts his hips erratically. He’s unpredictable, and you splutter when he pushes far too deep for you. A flicker of fear and concern crosses his features, and you get the urge to help him stay in the character he’s trying to portray. You moan enthusiastically, and he quickly recovers, fucking you without restraint.

Seungmin is last. He’s cruel with his words, and careless with his thrusts. He’s energy is cold, and you know that if you need to be punished, he’s the guy to give it to you. That is until he comes back with an oversized shirt and a tray of food, and asks you if you have any questions about the agreement.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

You sit alone in your cell and eat your dinner, wondering what the night will hold. You don’t have to wait long though, because Chan is walking towards your cell. 

“Y/n. It’s time for your interrogation with Detective Minho and Officer Seungmin.”

Fuck.

↣↣ up next, interrogation time with 2min here

↳ tag list : open

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[alrightieaphroditie]

moon and stars | j.m.

*:·ﾟ✧ back to masterlist

pairing *:·ﾟ afab!reader x boston!qzjoel miller wc *:·ﾟ1.6k  warnings *:·ﾟ mention of being catcalled, reader being cornered by a group of men, joel saving the day the only way he knows how (with his fists), mentions of stitching, openish wounds, blood, and alcohol, slightly insecure!joel/soft!joel worried about being too much, just some pretty pure fluff, methinks :)  an *:·ﾟthis is heavily inspired by this post, because i saw it earlier today and couldn’t get this idea with joel out of my mind! nothing crazy, just a little ficlet with some tender joel. hope y’all enjoy! 

synopsis *:·ﾟ joel rears his big, brown puppy dog eyes at you while you’re stitching him back together. a promise is made. 

“Stop lookin’ at me like that,” the words are muttered, accompanied by the sharp snip of your scissors and the slight rumble of thunder in the distance. 

The hand on the back of your thigh squeezes you gently. “Like what?” 

There’s something playful in his voice, in his usually rough and rich voice. It’s not the typical tone that someone who just got into a fight with three other men would usually have. But then again, Joel Miller wasn’t really the typical type of man. 

Your eyes narrowed at the man sitting on the bathtub ledge before you, taking in the bloody mess he was. He had a gnarly gash on the top of his head, one that had required you to dust off your stitching skills. His nose looked like it had been broken (again) and there was an array of blood and dirt littering his face like a dark constellation of stars. 

You weren’t even sure if half the blood on him was his own. 

The alcohol bottle made a gulping noise as you tipped it onto your towel, the glass clinking as you set it back on the bathroom counter before returning between Joel’s spread legs. His hands, which were also bloody from split knuckles, cupped the back of your thighs. His thumbs worked softly against the outer seam of your jeans, though his fingers dug into your thighs as you gently pressed the towel against the cut between his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” you replied, gaze narrowed in on the bridge of his nose as you cleaned the area. You couldn’t miss his big brown eyes watching you, though; the one hanging light in the bathroom reflected in the darkness of his irises as he stared up at you in… “Awe. You’re lookin’ at me like you’re in awe of me or something.” 

A chuckle passed through his lips before his eyes winced a little, the laughter no doubt causing the split on his lip to widen. This man had been beaten to hell and back, and all of it had been for you. As cheap as it was to say it, though… you should’ve seen the other guys. 

Earlier this evening, you had been walking through the lower end of the QZ with one of your friends, watching as the local kids took turns running through a broken fire hydrant that was spewing water everywhere. When you left, taking back alleys and walking on broken sidewalks, you had been cornered by a group of men who seemed to have been drunk. 

A catcall here, a few misplaced hands there, and one swift tug of your bag was all it took before the biggest of the men had been pulled out of the group, exclaiming loudly as a fist connected with his cheek. 

You hadn’t even realized Joel had been around, though you should’ve known better; he had a tendency to lurk around the apartment building when you stayed out later in the night. You had a clear view of the front door to the building from where you were cornered, so you could imagine that Joel had witnessed, well, everything. 

The fight had ended quicker than you expected, if you were honest. Joel had a lot of pent up anger that he was always happy to expel with the help of his fists, and even though it wasn’t a fair fight, he held his own. He was bleeding and bruised, sure. But he scared the hell out of the other men enough for them to stumble away from the sidewalk without sparing another glance at you. 

“Well, maybe I am. Whatcha goin’ to do about it?” There he was again, with that teasing tone. As if you weren’t wiping off blood from his face after stitching his forehead back together. 

Your eyes rolled. “Someone’s feeling charming tonight, huh?” 

You tossed the alcohol-soaked rag onto the counter behind you, reaching for the clean one you had placed on the toilet lid right next to all the other supplies from the first aid kit. Joel reached behind him, helping you run the faucet in the bathtub long enough to get the towel wet, his hand resuming that spot on the back of your thigh after shutting it off. 

Gently swiping at his skin, the once pristine (well… mostly pristine) white towel soon became a mix of red and brown as you cleaned off his face. In this position, you were barely taller than Joel, but that still meant he had to lift his eyes upwards to look at you. He looked like a damn puppy, gazing up at you as if you were about to give him his favorite treat. 

As if you had hung the sun and the moon and all the stars in the sky yourself, but just for him. 

“‘m always charming, baby.” He winked one of those big eyes at you, causing your face to heat up as you brushed his hair back to clean off the top of his forehead. “That’s why I have you cleanin’ me up right now after I defended your honor.”

“My honor?” You couldn’t help but snort, pulling the now dirty towel away from his skin to fully face him. “Joel Miller, you are ridiculous.” 

You moved to step away, to go grab another towel to help with the cut on his bottom lip, but his grip on your thighs tightened and he hauled you into him. The squeal that left your mouth would’ve made you embarrassed if it hadn’t made Joel laugh out loud, his chest rumbling against yours as he held you tight to him. 

“Yeah, I might be. But you still love me anyway, don’t you?” 

And there it was.

That slight desperation in his voice that had you realizing why he was acting so playful. That neediness in his tone, the one seeking out the affirmation that yes, you still loved Joel, despite his darker tendencies. That you still cared for him, still wanted him to care for you in the only way he knew how sometimes. That he hadn’t turned you away by his actions tonight, even if he was just trying to protect you. 

He knew in his mind that he may have gone a little too far with some of the men surrounding you, but when he saw you pressed up against the brickside of the building, clutching your bag on your shoulders and trying to evade the dirty hands of the men trying to take advantage of you, something in him just snapped. He had no excuse other than pure hatred for the men trying to touch, trying to claim you. 

As if you weren’t his and his alone. 

Joel didn’t often lose control like that in front of you though, and he hadn’t missed the way you watched the event with eyes blown wide, the way you had flinched each time his fists landed on someone else, or when someone else’s fists connected with his body. It was only when you were helping him into the apartment, his arm slung over your shoulder, that he felt worried that he might’ve scared you away. 

And you recognized that now, with his question. With the way his eyes were big, unwavering on your face as he looked for any sign of you backing out. Of you leaving him. 

Your hands rested on either side of his face, gently brushing back his hair and being mindful of the fresh stitches taking up space on the right side. “Joel, there is nothing you could ever do that would make me stop loving you.” 

Your words were firm, giving Joel no room to look for any hidden meanings or hesitant feelings. His eyelids fluttered for a brief second, and you could see the relief that flooded his body afterwards; his shoulders dropped down half an inch as his posture went from rigid to relaxed. His chest expanded as he took in a big breath of air, letting it pass through his nose with a quick nod of his head. 

“Promise me?” His hand found its way to the base of your neck, tilting your head ever so slightly so that your forehead rested against his. You inched it to the side, avoiding the cut, and nodded your head. 

“I swear.” 

Even though it had to have hurt him, he pressed his mouth against yours, capturing your bottom lip in between his in a deep, desperate kiss. The taste of blood lingered on your lips afterward, but you could tell that he needed this. That he needed some proof that he wasn’t as unlovable as he felt, that he wasn’t undeserving of love, your love, specifically. 

And you were more than happy to provide that proof, for however long he needed it.

[acaaai-t]

thinking about…

stranger! xiao whom you encountered through a unexpected bank robbery one sunny afternoon. It definitely was love at first sight for you, especially after he had tackled you— a mere stranger to him at the moment— down to shield you from the stray bullets being fired. It was chaos amidst the environment, but all you could think about was how close he was to you… archons he’s pretty.

stranger! xiao whom you practically had to chase after after the entire ordeal just to get his contact information. He had first denied your approach, but you just seemed far too determined to give up so easily. “Sir please,” you begged. “You quite literally saved my life back there, the least I can do is repay you with something.” … “Fine.”

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！

companion! xiao who has a grumpy face on at all times no matter the situation. You had invited him out for lunch as a way to thank him for his heroic act couple days ago, and this would be your chance to properly introduce yourself to him. The weather was near perfect today with the temperature hanging around in the low 70’s (20°C) and the skies cleared of clouds. His intimidating expression was also enough to make you nervous, but you pushed through. “Hi! My name is [name], what’s yours?” … “… Xiao.”

companion! xiao who you took out on a little amusement park hangout on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon. You hadn’t been to one in forever, and considering the fact that both of you had nothing better to do today, you dragged Xiao out with you.

companion! xiao who went near deaf after agreeing to go on a rollercoaster with you— which was a poor choice. The ride was exhilarating, but if you hadn’t been screaming bloody murder throughout the entire ride, it might’ve been a better experience. “I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, hands clasped together in a praying motion. Xiao didn’t say anything. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. As an add-on to your apology, you treated him to a plate of almond tofu. Yeah no, he forgives you.

companion! xiao who gets an unwanted feeling of annoyance when he sees you occupied with someone else other than him. A stranger had stopped you to ask for direction to the nearest bathroom, and being the kind hearted soul you are, pointed to the map and gave the path to his destination. Too close, he thought. What? Why was he feeling like this? Is this what people called jealousy?

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！

Xiao is in denial. He’s only known you for a month or two now, and feelings are beginning to worm its way into his heart. Unwarranted feelings that he wants no part of— yet it’s constantly in the back of his mind. You’re always on his mind. He can’t get you out, no matter what.

Your smile, your laugh, your mesmerizing beauty…

Archons, what is he meant to do now?

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！！

lover! xiao who wrestled with his feelings for weeks on end before finally caving in to it. You were blabbering on about some drama unfolding at your workplace at a cafe he’d invited you out to when all of a sudden he stopped you. He couldn’t even pay attention to your words, for all he could do was stare at your lips moving. “Is there something wrong with my face?” you asked, fingers dragging across your cheeks. Xiao was quick to answer, giving a hasty ‘no’.

lover! xiao who kept stuttering his words when confessing his feelings to you. The sun had begun to set, and you had brought him to a secluded area of the woods, where there was a near perfect view of the sunset. Your heart was pounding so heavily against your chest— it felt like it could burst out at any moment. Although Xiao looked more of a hot mess than you did; his face crimson red.

“I.. I like— archons. Oh fuck it [name] I like you. Not as in just friends if you understand, you know what I mean right? No, it’s totally okay if you don’t like me back like—”

lover! xiao who you had to shut up with a kiss to his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to you. He seemed to had to take a moment to register what had just happened, and when it did finally process, he kissed back— hard. Is he dreaming?

just lover! xiao being the epitome of you fell first but he fell harder.

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！！！

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— more xiao content coming soon

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

Ride The Lightning ⚡︎ Lars Ulrich (18+)

Blowing a handful of stray hairs out of your face as you finally make it to the top of the seemingly never-ending stairs, your already depleting good mood completely plummets as soon as you take in the smug look on the drummer's face waiting for you. Your feet falter as soon as he fully comes into view, and your eyes immediately pick up on the fact that he's alone for once. Lars pushes himself up into a fully standing position, his hands in his back pockets to try and conserve heat in the concerningly cold complex's hallway. Thundered light bolts through and graciously gifts the two of you temporary brightness every few seconds, the sun now long gone as grey hues of spattered clouds take over the sky above the state of California.

"Got caught up in the rain on the way over here, didn't you?" He cockily asks, his accent licking at the words and making them sound more thickened and condensed. "Let me in, would you? Your brother's holding a guitar for us, and we need it for the rehearsal set we have tonight." His carefree and dismissive tone gives off no signs of gratitude to the fact that you had just cancelled your plans to run over here and let him in as soon as you got the phone call from your older brother.

You rapidly blink in disbelief as the Dane sarcastically steps aside for you, his left hand impatiently ushering you forward as you drip and create a small puddle in the outdated carpet underneath you. Lips pursing as you reach into your soaked pocket for your duplicated set of keys to the apartment, you narrow your eyes before flicking your head towards the overconfident musician to your right. An indignant sound strangles its way out of his throat as rainwater flies and lands on his flushed cheeks and shocked expression, and you successfully unlock the front door with a hidden and triumphant smile on your lips.

"Doing your daily running around for the rest of the band?" You ask in an innocent voice, instinctively walking toward the bathroom as you hear the front door being kicked closed and shut, the urge to dry off stronger than the want to continue to banter. "No, I'm simply doing a favor. You know, a thing you do for friends and for people who actually like and care about you. Ever heard of the term?" The taunting and condescending tone in his voice makes you falter for a moment, before you grasp onto a towel and firmly shut the cupboard with an audible and resounding click.

"Fuck this." You mumble, before stalking your way back out to the living room area and going up close to the musician, not stopping until your feet are only an inch apart. Lars pauses mid-faux performance with the new and sleek white electric guitar in his hands, his earlier cocky expression turning cautious as he looks at the neutral and resentful one on yours. Before he can make another asinine comment or tease you any further, your arm straightens out with a sudden strike. The rough cotton comes in contact with his pale and freckled skin and leaves a few inches of rugburn in its wake. The drummer lets out a shocked cry, before placing the guitar down to reach out and wrap his hand around your closest wrist. Lars lets out a grunt as you roughly shove at him to let you go, before he finds momentum and places you flush against the wall behind the two of you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He exclaims, his pupils widened and a hazy mess, while you wince from the pressure engulfing your damp and reddening skin. "You're what's wrong, you asshole," you seethe, your head pushing itself off of the wall to peer forward into his green eyes, the button of your nose brushing the bridge of his. "I've done nothing but be nice to you and your band for the last year, while you've bought and exchanged instruments and tech gear with my brother, and you've been nothing less than a dick to me this entire time. So, what the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Upset a girl can play the drums better than you can, while she's taller than you too?"

Lars clicks his tongue and lets out a humorless laugh, his hand retreating away from your wrist as he takes a step back and looks away from you. You move forward, the adrenaline and frustration in you pivoting you to follow him over to the drum set near the windows facing the front of the building. "Answer me." You urge, your eyes taking in his tense form as he untangles and wraps his fingers in the skin tape your brother left behind for him. Lars glances up at you with a halfhearted glare, before letting out a slow breath and snapping the container of the adhesive shut.

"It's not my fault you don't know how to take a joke," he starts, raising an eyebrow at you as you let out a dumbfounded and disbelieving scoff. "You just seem overly sensitive, and I get bored sometimes, is all." Your eyes zero in on him, and you tilt your head downward to watch him as he sits on the chair near his main instrument. His left hand trembles as he undoes the headband keeping his drumsticks together, and you come to a sudden realization as you observe his unsteadiness. He wasn't jealous or hateful or conniving. He was nervous.

You bite your lip as a thought runs through your mind, and a small hum of amusement exits you before you can help it. Lars' head snaps up at the sound. "What?"

"You said James was going to be coming over tomorrow night to finalize the payment, right?" The drummer nods at you before twisting the wooden sticks in between his taped-up fingers, the absentminded movements almost capturing the entirety of your attention. "I'm just wondering why you came over today, is all. Since James is the one I get along with best, and I'm sure it's the same for him too." Satisfaction warms your gut as you watch his jaw click and strain in place, the muscle contraction making a small chill run itself down your cloth-clad spine.

"So, you want him here instead of me, is what you're saying." He states, his fingers halting all movement and the chair underneath him screeching in protest as he pushes the chair back with full-body force. You wince at the sound and go to open your mouth to reassure him, but falter as he throws down the drumsticks and reaches over the set to grasp ahold at your still wet and dripping t-shirt.

"What," you start to ask, before gasping out loud as he tugs you forward, your stomach pressing up against a cymbal for purchase and your feet almost lifting from the ground. You fluster as he leans up and glares into your eyes, his forehead brushing yours from the closeness and causing your heart rate to accelerate. "Do you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I enjoy getting that reaction out of you, because I'm the only one who can? Today's one of the only morning's we have off before tour preparation, and I'm stuck in this overcrowded apartment, with a girl so dense she can't even tell when someone is trying to flirt with her and get her fucking attention."

You gape as he looks at you earnestly, before setting his face and letting you go. You reach out to encircle your hand around his wrist instead and go to plead as you watch his eyes dim in what seems to be defeat. "Can you please continue? Because I've gone from months of thinking you can't stand being in the same room as me, to you suddenly admitting to actively reaching out on your own to be here with me today. My head is spinning." Lars' expression softens and he twists his wrist to carefully guide you around the drum set, and onto the chair he carelessly shoved away to the side earlier. You let out a trembling breath as he squats down to level with you, the muscles in his thighs and biceps straining from the confining movement.

"When I first met you, I thought you were beautiful, and the guys caught on to my attraction to you immediately. The only way I could get them off of my back was to join in on the teasing the other guys would give you. I don't know when the teasing turned into us insulting each other and getting under each other's skin, but it wasn't my intention to ever hurt your feelings or get you as upset as I did today," he murmurs, his eyes averting yours to look down and caress at the slight tears in the knees of your pants. "I feel like a major dick right now, and I'm sorry."

You furrow your brows as you take in his downtrodden expression, before reaching out to tilt his chin up and make him look at you. "Before you turned into the biggest asshole I've ever met, I thought you were attractive too. So much that my brother started getting on my ass and told me to make a move. But before I could, your insults started to dig in far too deep and I started to come after you and rebut even harder. I know I've hurt and belittled you at times as well, and for that I'm truly sorry." Your free hand's fingers absentmindedly wrap themselves in the middle of his long hair and gently massage his scalp while you apologize, the satisfaction warming your gut earlier coming back full force as you watch his eyes almost slip to a close and his pink lips begin to open in barely hidden bliss.

"You like that?" You whisper out in the cool apartment air, and a soft gasp expels itself from your chest as the fingertips caressing your kneecaps slide up to your thigh and grip the flesh. Lars looks into your eyes and nods, a weighted sigh pillowing out of him as your fingers lightly twist in his mane and tug. Lightning strikes out and nearly makes contact with the windows nearest to the two of you, the bolts of light making the flush on the man in front of you even more apparent during the brief highlight.

"You said you wanted my attention earlier, right?" You ask, your voice barely above a slight tremor of an exhale and nearly incoherent. Lars nods against the grip in his hair and on his chin, and his eyes widen as you tug him forward, his hands once gripping your thighs now grasping onto your waist to steady himself as you bring him forward.

"Come and get it, then." You shutter out, barely able to finish your sentence before his grip turns bruising and his lips ascend on yours.

⚡︎

Warm puffs of heated breath make their way down your bare and goosebump-ridden chest as you lean against the drum set behind you, your lips spread open wide in a permanent gape as the Dane sucks and licks marks into your skin. The tip of a tongue breaches out between kiss chapped lips to tease the top of your left, swollen nipple, and your hips pulse up against the firm and unyielding hands holding you down in place.

The teasing tongue wraps itself around your areola and gently tugs with a light gnarr of teeth, and you cry out at the oversensitivity, your hands reaching down to lightly tap on the shoulders of the man currently trying to taste every inch and centimeter of you.

Lars lifts his head from your chest and removes his mouth from you with a reverberating pop, you blushing as the sound echoes around the room and him sporting a wolfish grin at your reaction. The warm and persistent press of his erection on your leg makes the slick in between your thighs nearly double in amount as you acknowledge the weight of it, and you whine out as your clothed sex pulsates against the soaked material of your uncomfortable bottom clothing. Before you could beg him to move on, he sends you a gentle smile and wetly makes his way down to your navel, your stomach involuntarily sucking in as his appendage makes its way into your belly button.

You let out a light laugh at the ticklish sensation, and you feel him smile against your heating up flesh, the hands holding you down slowly rubbing circles in the bruising skin of your hips. You close your eyes and lick moisture back to your reddened pout as you feel him slide even further down and make it to the beginning of your jeans within a few heat filled seconds.

"Where else do you want me to taste you, angel?" Lars asks you, his face holding on to an innocent expression as one of his hands trail down from your side and its thumb digs into your clothed clit. The musician looks at you with faux confusion as you cry out, his tongue coming to peek out in barely hidden hunger as your chest heaves and your arms give out underneath you. Wooden drumsticks falter and tumble down to the floor, the sound going unnoticed as Lars helps you lift your hips from the chair beneath you and tugs your pants and underwear down in one haste filled yank. You immediately shy away as your overheated and weeping pussy is exposed to the awe looking man kneeling in between your legs, and you freeze in place as he lets out a tsking sound.

"I asked you a question, princess. Where else do you want me to taste you?" You let out an audible gasp as he situates himself and grazes his fingertips everywhere except for where you truly needed them.

"Want your tongue to taste my pussy, want your mouth on me again," you start shakily, letting out a moan as you watch his green eyes darken at your next words. "On your pussy." Lars temporarily closes his eyes and twitches against your leg from your words, and you murmur out his name as his hand travels to cup your sex and tease at it with his calloused palm. "So, if this is my pussy, then I don't have to wait for you to tell me where you want me to taste you, do I?" He asks you, waiting for your nod of consent and agreement, before thumbing your clit and bringing the digit up to his swollen lips. Lars watches as your breath visibly wanes at the sight of him eating your slick so casually, and he bites back a satisfied and predatory smile as he brings his spit slick thumb back down to rub it against your pulsating folds.

"So, I can eat this pussy, tease this pussy," he muses out slowly, watching you writhe in front of him with impatience and desperation. "Use this pussy whenever I'd like?" You nod with fervor and let out a cry of relief as he slowly teases two fingers inside of your tight heat, the relief almost palpable and bringing tears to your eyes. Lars lets out a coo as he watches your fluttery lids begin to dampen with emotion, and he bends down to lightly press a kiss to your trembling thigh, before trailing his head and mouth up to where it truly wants and craves to be.

You melt and slug against the drum set behind you as the first rough swipe of his tongue meets with your enflamed clit, and your nails dig into his shoulders as his free hand pulls you down even further on the chair. Digits curve themselves in the wet heat inside of you, and your legs seize and tense against either side of his sides as he brushes against your sponge-like spot with finesse. Lars moans against your weeping and gushing sex as he feels your walls clench and constrict around his fingers, and his eyes nearly flutter shut as your taste and slick make their way into his inviting and overactive mouth and down his jaw.

The heat in your groin intensifies and a seeming coil snaps as you reach your first orgasm that night, a sob wrenching its way out of your sore and exhausted lungs as your cum accumulates and strings against his fingers and now sopping wet wrist. Lars' eyes open back up fully as he watches you gasp for air above him, and satisfaction fills him as he watches you involuntarily twitch from his ministrations. His cock impatiently twitches in the confines of his fitted jeans as he waits for you to come down from your oversensitive high, his fingers carefully removing themselves from inside of you and coming up to draw figure 8's in your shivering skin.

"You still with me?" He asks you, you letting out a stilted exhale and weakly nodding back a response, unable to catch your bearing enough to verbally respond back. A feeling of disappointment floods through you once you are finally able to lift your head and see that he's still erect in between your legs, his cockhead visibly pulsing against the material of his pants and staining the zipper of them with precum. Lars lets out a soft sound of confusion as your unsteady hands tug him up into a standing position, his hips bucking into the cupping palm of your hand as you rub against his hard dick.

You let out a hush as he begins to protest your movements as you shakily lift yourself off of the drum set from behind you and the ruined chair, and carefully make your way down onto your still trembling knees. "I just want a taste," you dazedly reassure him, your tongue still feeling heavy and slow from your orgasm just a few minutes ago. "Once I can fully process a single thought that isn't only about me wanting to suck your dick, I want you to fuck me against the drum set."

Lars' mouth gapes open and his eyelids flutter at the relief of you releasing his dick from the rough and damp confinement of his jeans, and a small stutter of a sound punches its way out from his chest as the rain pelts itself down on the windowpane outside. Your mouth begins to water once his length bounces itself against his groin once it's freed, and you waste no time before sliding your tongue out of your mouth and wrapping it around his flushed, red tip.

The Dane lets out a sharp gasp as you immediately slide down to the hilt once your tongue collects the copious amount of his pre-ejaculate, and his fingers run down to make purchase in your wet locks as you hungrily swallow around him.

"Holy shit." He shakily whispers out, the muscles in his stomach taut and tightening as you mouth fuck him for all he's worth, your tongue sliding out as you deepthroat him and moan at the feeling of the tip of his dick meeting with the back of your throat.

You lightly tap against his hips with one of your spit-soaked palms and let out a positive sounding hum, your eyes fluttering shut and eyelashes collecting stray and heavy tears once he begins to fuck your mouth and throat. Calloused fingers tear their way through the strands of your hair as his hips make audible contact with your chin, going so far into your throat that the tip of your tongue makes contact with his tightening and raising ballsack.

Lars has to force himself to slowly slide out of the tight heat of your mouth and cup the base of his dick before he orgasms, the tip of his cock still weeping out a few drops of pre-release as he takes in your disheveled look and state. Thick tear stains run themselves down your cheeks and bubbled spit collects itself in a messy spread along your chin, and you lightly rub at the hood of your sex as your arousal drips down onto the wooden floorboards beneath the two of you.

"God, you're such a fucking dream." Lars grunts out, his fingers slowly removing themselves from your hair and bending down to wrap his shaky palms around the slick sides of your waist. You let out a pleased sound as you're lifted up with ease and planted back onto your feet, the sound soon turning into a gasp as you're steadily maneuvered and bent over the drum set, the chair you released on earlier getting shoved to the side once again.

The drummer lets out a hum of approval as he watches you obediently spread your legs wide and fight your inner shyness, the slick running down your thighs enticing him even further as he nearly mounts himself over you. "What'd you say about me fucking you against my drum set earlier, again?" He casually asks you, you beginning to feel small in this position as he towers over you, a blush fighting its way up to your messy cheeks as you hear and feel him slicking himself up with your release and wetness.

You can only whisper and beg out a please, before his length slides into you with an experienced and hearty thrust, his tip hitting your g-spot like it was made for you and this moment entirely. Lightning strikes out again and paints itself white against the two of you, as you sob and hold onto a cymbal as you're pounding into from behind.

Slick and disgustingly messy sounds create a cacophony in the small apartment, combined with your strangled and gasped out moans of pleasure, and you let out a silent scream as the man behind you slides a hand down your front and pinches at your clit, his mouth only releasing itself from your hickey-ridden shoulder to playfully muse out.

"Knew you'd sound better screaming for me, rather than at me." You're unable to rebut back as your second orgasm takes over and your release soaks the front of his still thrusting thighs. A hand delicately wraps itself around your throat as he continues to fuck up into you with reckless abandon. You let out silent gasps of pleasure and overstimulation as he uses you against his set, the partial deprivation of air making you feel deliciously lightheaded. Lars moans out against your ruined skin and pulses himself inside of you as he fills you to the brim, the sensitive skin of the tops of your thighs beginning to sting from his once seemingly never-ending thrusts.

Thick globs of cum run their way down your weakened legs as he slowly removes himself from inside of you and gently turns you around, your body relaxing in his embrace as he brings you forward and into a spit coated kiss.

"You doing alright? I was a little bit rough with you." Lars' eyes run their way down your exhausted and beat figure, and you nod against him with the rest of the energy you've got left in you, before slumping forward and closing your eyes.

"How about we both get in the shower, and then come back out and clean up this mess?" You tiredly open your eyes and let out a shocked and weak bout of laughter as you look down at the floor beneath you. A thick consistency of your combined releases drip themselves down into a puddle on the floor from the drum set and the chair is tumbled over and lying down on its side, the curtain closest to it now on the floor and tangled around a leg of it. If you look close enough, you can still see the shine of your cum on the sitting area of the chair. You quickly blush and glance away as your feet are removed from the ground once again as he lifts you up. And as you tilt your head back and allow yourself to be carried away and toward the bathroom you stormed out of earlier, you let a small smile grace your face as lightning resounds and vibrates the floorboards beneath the two of you.

You were glad he made his way over to your brother's apartment on his own, and eventually to you, and into you.

[bts5sosempire]

the tyrant (viii)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5,852 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, mentions of infertility, etc. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna’s eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you." 𝐚/𝐧: I AM FINALLY DONE! Went pass the word limit istg. But hope y'all are ready what y/n is planning. 👀 btw, please like ❤️, comment in the "comment" section 📝 for tagging, and reblog 🔄 if you wish. Forgot I edited some parts in different chaps too, so if you see minor changes in them then I was fixing them.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Another few more months with the year ending, and another would mark the end of five years. Despite being bedridden, it had made you uneasy since spending the luxury time doing nothing had made you naught. Yumi and the personal servants who you had personally hired for your inner circle inside the castle had been keeping you posted up about your businesses from the outside. Everything was going well.

Holding the reports over the fire, it lights up when the corner catches, "I'm gonna leave for a bit." You told Yumi, who was alarmed by you.

They started to panic, "You already received your reports saying all is well; you shouldn't move around a lot." Yumi tried to sway your mind, but you had already stood up from your bed and in front of your long mirror.

With your arms stretched out, the personal servants you hired from the outside who knew about your secret come to your aid. They swiftly took off your attire and replaced it with your pseudo outfit. You rarely snuck out, but today you feel rebellious. Staying in bed may get you sick in staying in bed.

You turn around to grab Yumi by the arms and put her in your futon, "Stay here and be good." With a soft smile, you open the door and poke your head out and look around for a particular male valet. Outside, your room was quiet; everyone was prepping for dinner now and cleaning the dining area to feast later. "Where are they?" And right on cue, their eyes met yours when appearing from a corner, and they understood immediately when you nodded at them.

With the quick perception of their view, their feet race towards you. "Everyone is busy; it should take about two hours at most." They informed you with a bow, their gaze not meeting yours.

"Good," coming out of your room, your feet glide across the polished wooden boards as they tail closely behind you. Behind every castle are secret walls; you happened to know it by accident during your research days as becoming Seijuro Hajime. It somehow comes in handy now.

After making swift turns around the halls, you stop right in the middle of a wall that is made of a stack of jagged stone slabs building on top of another; its color that was once in the shade of grey birch is now darkened with tints of green. Its gap of lines was filled with green and yellow moss and heavy, unruly vibes hanging from above. The area you'll frequent quite a lot is an abandoned wing rumored to be a gorgeous garden but is now defiled by aging neglect. The large pond that was filled with colors of Koi fish is now empty with weeds and putrid water that is left behind by the rain. Chip redwoods of a bridge leading to a roofless gazebo that represents the heart and main attraction of the pond. Overall, everything is in bad condition.

Your fingers smoothly ran along every crevice and protruding bump of each slab, and it wasn't until you reached the smaller rock with a small mark that could go unnoticed under the human eyes if no one was paying attention to it. Faintly remembering the details at the back of your head, you push the rock, which caves into your strength.

There was a low rumble from within the walls, and debris fell from above the shaking forces. The wall split into two, and faint mechanic whirring gears could be heard. Torches mounted on the wall spring into life as each illuminates the dark long descending stairs ahead of you. Red wooden beams were worn for ages, also holding the tunnel. A faint smell of wet, sticky residue lingers in the air.

Well, that's ominous. You turn around to face the valet, and they bid you a half farewell, "Stay safe." Nodding at them, they press another adjacent block to the opening block, and the doors come sliding close.

You descend the stairs and follow one pathway until you reach the middle, where it diverges to three; if you remember, you should take the one on the right. It also says in the blueprint that there is a trigger for activating traps; right in the center is a hanging bell above. If the bell is cut loose, all the mechanisms within the walls will run. You eye the old rusted bell that is darkened with a barely color of copper resembling it.

°

"Did you miss me?" Someone throws themselves and wraps their arms around your neck behind you. You place a hand on top of the table to save yourself from toppling forward face-first into the food. The cup of warm tea of amber liquid spilled over your nimble fingers. Their scent entered your nose, and it was the same person you bumped into before. "You know you're very hard to find; I scoured the whole city." Sliding their arms around, that now occupied your arm, they sat beside you as if they were your lover.

Personal space for you is also gone.

You patiently set the cup down and grabbed the rag near the portable stove that warmed the teapot. Wiping away the spilled remnant, you inch away from the clingy woman by loosening your arm, but she only tightens it with a pout. For some reason, you don't think you understand the choice a young woman like her makes to try to be cute to get their way. I mean, you're a woman. That's why you're probably immune to it.

In the first place, you only came out here to be a spectator since, within your report, there should be two high clans born male heirs trekking through the city that Sukuna rules from Yuichi. But you doubt you can complete your task today if you don't do anything.

"It's rude not to look at the person talking to you. Do you know who I am?" They tugged your arm. "My older cousin runs this city, and I could have your head, too, you know?" It looks like it will be hard to get your attention, "My cousin is Sukuna Ryomen."

Upon hearing his name, you tried to remain indifferent, but you only let out a small huff of a laugh. 'This should be interesting to pass the time.' The woman thought throwing her cousin's name around would add weight and make her cave in, but it seemed to be doing the opposite effect. Without her knowing, you decided to amp up a charming facade. "The Sukuna Ryomen?" You turn your head to face her, and the coy smile that split across your lips made the woman frown. Why aren't you scared of her? "Do you know," you stare into those pomegranate eyes that share the same color as Sukuna, "throwing your cousin's name around isn't safe too? You're making yourself a target for-" your eyes roam around the room. A few people were looking your way, and the woman noticed it too and flushed red, "-those to take advantage of."

"If only you looked at me when I asked!" Kiriko fumbles out an excuse, and her face becomes hotter and red.

This makes you decide to toy with the woman. Since she has a relation to your supposed husband, it would be easy to probably get the information right if you knew how to ask. Although you think you wouldn't be able to, it's not hard for you to play around with her. "From what I heard, he isn't a good man."

"What do you know about him?" She bites back.

"He plays favorites with certain people, and there's this special wife he's rather fond of." You quip to get a reaction from her, and it seems to hit the mark. "I saw her a few times, and she's lovely that many of these city and village folks adore her. Got to say she's a woman after my own heart if she wasn't married."

"You shouldn't like her!" Kiriko jealousy spouted, and with a tug of your arm towards her, you thought she might yank it off its socket. "She might be pretending to be nice to make people like her! You should like someone genuine like me!" She declared, and this made you snort another laugh. A woman jumping the horse, it seems. You don't know what she has heard about you, but it is pretty amusing. "What? You don't believe me?" Now she sounds offended.

"It's not that I don't believe you," wanting to tease her more, you swoop in closer to her, "but I don't believe in tarnishing another person just on baseless rumors or what they have or heard against her." Kiriko shrinks back from the sudden closeness. She was quiet, and then you turned your attention away from her. "Sir," you raise a hand to pay for your tab. Once they're near, you drop the payment into their outstretched hands.

Sliding your arm out of their hold, you lighten up your pace with the woman chasing after you. "Wait!" They shouted after you, and you made eye contact with a nearby seller who understood what you indicated. The seller grabbed a bucket of water and poured it onto the ground right after Kiriko was close enough to be after you. Kiriko shrieks out when the lower half of her attire is wet. "Watch where you throw that dirty water, you peasant!"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Miss." They awkwardly apologize.

Kiriko bites the bottom of her lip and looks at your back; you don't even turn around to check if she's alright. She watches your figure disappear into the heads of an endless crowd with a little bit of resentment. She'll make you look her way no matter what since she wants to take you back to her homeland as a spouse by the end of her stay, even if it's by force.

[at a random inn]

"So what's the deal?" You suddenly appeared by Yuichi's side, who got slightly spooked.

"You got to stop doing that," the man told you; he put a hand over his chest. You only laugh and cross your arms before looking below from the second floor. Yuichi saw you spectating two males who stood out like a sore thumb in the crowds of primary cotton colors clothing of grey, dark grey, and brown. "I thought you weren't going to come?"

"And miss this glorious sight?" You humor Yuichi but cut it short too. "I must return to the castle soon, or my covers blow. So who are they?" Motioning the two rich strangers talking lowly to one another, Yuichi tilts his head slightly toward you.

"The one in deep indigo is Totsuwa Iriyu; from my sources that I have people gathered around, his family used to serve the Emperor before they fell from grace. The funny thing is your husband was involved with their family, and there were speculations that he took them off from the Inner Circle of the Emperor Hoshu." Yuichi explains, and you thought that might be something Sukuna would do. "And the one in dark green is Mugetsu Rintoru, and he's that buddy, in the deep indigo best friend too. He also has a problem with your husband too."

"Everybody seems to have problems with Sukuna; I'm unsurprised." Amusement dances across your lips, "How long are they planning to stay?"

"Approximately up to three weeks since they did get an invitation from Sukuna." Now that made you raise an eyebrow.

"Guess invitation isn't what is going in their mind too; nobody comes here in Sukuna's land with no pure thoughts since he is the most sought after when it comes to wealth. And revenge." You then un-latch your arms and pat Yuichi's biceps. "I'll approach them in my time, but keep an eye on them."

°

Your servants all scamper away when Sukuna walks through the hall; they all refuse to look up but still greet him in acknowledgment. But the one that felt like they were getting a heart attack was the one who was your spies. Sukuna had come to pick you up for dinner quite early. They all gave each a look to see who would intercept him. There was a back-and-forth motion of 'No, you' between the servants. But it wasn't until Sukuna positioned himself in front of them they all hesitantly looked up.

"L-Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) is still resting." One squeaks out in fear; despite being hired by you, they still fear Sukuna.

"Move aside," he commanded.

"She wishes not to be disturbed, My Lord." The same person quickly interjected.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, "Do you wish to die?" He glowers down at them, and they all shrink back. "Now. Move. Aside." Sukuna said each word with heavy and daunting syllables, and the servants sidestepped demurringly. If their heart could leap out of their chest, this would be the best time.

Before Sukuna could open the door, it slid open, and there was you. "What's with all this commotion?" You don't need to look at your servants who tried to stop Sukuna lets out breaths of relief. Sukuna peaks over your head and sees books lying on your table.

Sukuna: "Thought you were resting, no?"

You: "I did; I woke up a while ago."

Without further ado, you try to bypass Sukuna, but he takes good of your hand. You wanted to rip it from his hold without causing much fuss, but he tightened his grip. "You seem well enough now; your colors are back." He took steps with you side by side.

"You are already starting to make me sick," exasperation released from your voice when you tugged your hand again, and Sukuna tutted at you.

"There's that tone that I've missed," he purrs, and if he's successfully getting under your nerves, he's doing a great job. You were clenching your jaws. "I've got something to show you after dining too." From his tone, Sukuna was rather excited; it was only a slight pitch lighter.

[excution field]

A heavy fur coat was draped around your shoulders. You don't understand why he brought you here right after eating. Most of all, the execution ground. You got a hand to cover the smell. Sukuna leans heavily behind you with his arms encasing you; somehow, this feels familiar, like that one day. Once again, you attempted to shrug him off, but it always made him want to be closer to you.

There was fresh blood over the dried blood; even the stench of death couldn't be erased from this place. You never really visited the site; this was the first time in five years you had set foot on the ground where innocent sinners came to die by Sukuna's final resolution. "I like you to be the first to witness something that could lead me to more winning conquest." He said, leaning his head low and letting his lips touch your ears; Sukuna's breath fans over one side of your face. You silently tilt your head to look up at him; questions linger in your eyes.

Sukuna was jittering in excitement, and this was something. You rarely see him like this; he can be proud and loud within his moments. This is something new. He's barely contained.

Sukuna lets himself be away from you, which makes you inwardly happy. "Bring it out!"

It didn't take two frightening retainers to bring out a wooden craftsman box. Sukuna flipped the lid open, and inside, it was presented to be some long metal rod with wood attachments. You were observing not too far away from Sukuna. Sukuna lifts it out of its case and settles an aim. "Get the prisoners too." You recognize that black powder from anywhere when Sukuna pops the lid open and pours it into the opening of the barrel. Then he used a rod to push the powder more profoundly into the narrow tunnel before setting the breech on fire.

"What are you doing?" You ask him; somehow, dread-filled your chest when you saw three people lined up and tied to a thick wooden pool. You can hear their whimpers from where you're at.

"You'll see," was all he said; Sukuna leveled the weapon up and above over his shoulder as he aimed again, then pulled the trigger with a steady finger.

BANG!

The sound made you jump; you instinctively covered your ears in fright with your heart hammering, as did the people far and near to witness. Smoke came from the weapon, but it was pushed away and dissipated into the atmosphere by the wind. What you were looking at wasn't the weapon itself but the person tied to the wooden stake. Their head was blown clean right off, just from this distance where Sukuna stands.

Is this what he wanted to show you? The future? How it's going to be in his hand?

"Did I spook you? Sorry," Sukuna carefully put the weapon back into its case and walked toward you; he took your hands from your ears and slotted them into his own. Your eyes wouldn't move away from the headless corpse; it was stuck wide open, witnessing the scene. It wasn't until you blinked again and pulled your hands back from his hold then your curiosity overtook.

You: "What did you do to them?"

Sukuna: "It's obvious what I did, didn't it?"

You: "Yes, you did. I'm asking what kind of weapon was that."

Sukuna glances over his shoulder before covering the view by stepping to the side when you try to take another look. "I must admit, the Portuguese did come with something this time. It's a Matchlock rifle. It's one of the prototypes, not permanent yet."

"A rifle? You can kill someone from this distance?" Your furrowed brows and contorted face of confusion almost make Sukuna lose composure. This is undoubtedly the first time in a while that you have been interested in something and was willing to talk with him, without sassing back, of course.

"Even further, too," Sukuna confirm. "But like I said, this is just a prototype, not yet decided. I want to talk to the Portuguese and have a room ready for one of their men to stay behind and modify the rifle with me."

You: "Why modify it when it's already deadly enough as it is?"

Sukuna: "Not deadly enough to my liking."

°

You were back to your room and became a sitting duck again. 'If Sukuna could get that weapon, then we're screwed.' When evolution for weapons couldn't get any better or worse, you almost felt worried. Sukuna would indeed be able to conquer land much more and faster, but with that rate, even the death of others he's going to take isn't going to remain stagnant anymore.

More bloodshed and the lives of others will continue to bleed over this land of Japan.

"Get this letter to Yuichi as fast as possible tomorrow during your shift outside; we need information." You fold the letter with deft hands and give it to a male retainer. "Be careful."

"Lady (Name), you have a gift from Sultana Aida." Yumi hands you a box, and it is wrapped neatly. "It was sent earlier when you were in the...field."

You took the box and unwrapped the red sash around it. Sultana Aida has sent you self-care items, especially body oil, and cream. The scent was sweet and fresh, not overpowering enough to give you a headache. The oil inside the clear bottle was in a rich hue of gold, and the body cream was sealed tightly in a jar too. Sultana Aida had a penchant for making perfume and women's essential needs. You met them over a year ago during a foreign meeting.

"Send a gift back to her." You told Yumi, who nodded and went outside to where there is a room where you store all your possession and gifts.

[night time]

There was a fluid snap of your doors being open and closed; the person who always comes into your room as they please is Sukuna himself. Through the bronze mirror, you could see Sukuna in his loose attire, which exposed the skin of his partial chest once he was close enough to where the lantern light could reach. You applied the body cream you received today to your neck before Sukuna settled himself behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and chin upon your shoulder.

You froze for a quick second. Sukuna closes his eyes in bliss to take in the scent. "This smells nice." Even if he notices your discomfort, he doesn't care at the moment, not right now. He nuzzles his nose closer until it presses against your neck, and the warm breath of his seeps through your skin and into the thinness of your night clothes. You close the lid over your body cream and set it aside.

"What do you want?" Your eyes remain on the mirror, which shows how relaxed Sukuna is; he got you in between his legs as they were propped up to where his knees were bending. There was a deep inhale from him.

"I can't even be here in my own home?" He inquired, "I'm here to spend the night with you." That made you decisively rip his arm off around your waist.

"No, you're not," you shot back and marched away from him to create a distance. "You have plenty of women in your harem who wanted to spend time with you," on the other side of the room, you defiantly look at the man, who gives you a lop side grin.

"I'm not bedding you, not right now." Sukuna restates your thoughts, "Just sleeping side by side." Your face was stoned, but it was enough for Sukuna to tell that you didn't believe him when your brows twitched. There was a 'huh' from you, and you were gunning for the door, and in a flash, Sukuna had you in his embrace again. Another momentarily struggle from you when you start to kick and tell him repeatedly to let you go. "Don't," he whispered huskily into your ear, "I won't do anything, I promise." The man carried you by the waist with both arms and settled down with you in a slump onto the large futon.

Sukuna loosened his arms, and you slithered away to the other side of the bed and got under the cover with your back turned to him. He wanted to push the boundaries, but he wouldn't. Getting under the surface, too, he remains still watching the slope of your curves highlighted by the sheet and your back rising and falling. Sukuna gathered your hair that was pools around the gap in between you both and played with the ends; he let them loop around his forefinger before running a thumb over the silk feeling of it. He then brings the strands to his lips and kisses them to bid good night to you.

Then the light went out.

°

You roll over in bed and bring the blanket under your chin to snuggle in deeper. But why did something feel heavy around you? There was difficulty opening your eyes, and when you did, sleep didn't completely fade away as drowsiness was still evident. If it weren't for the hand patting your back to lull you back to sleep, then you would've done so. "Go back to sleep." With a heavy grave tone that slinks into one of your senses, the haze of sleep washes away. Angling your head up, you see the fondness in Sukuna's eye and push him away in shock with an 'ack,' and Sukuna only rolls onto his back in bed. The man almost laughs at your reaction. Quickly sitting up in bed, you didn't realize how bright the room was when your face was scrunched up and brought the bed sheet up to your chest. Even outside was quiet.

Sukuna almost forgot you make so many faces during sleep and even when you wake up, although not this much. There was a yawn from you as you covered it with both hands, then you swept your hands through your hair. "It's almost near ten if you're wondering." He repositioned himself again on the futon, laying on his side with one leg propped up while he used one hand to support his head under his chin.

"Get out," voice groggy; you stood up from the bed to prepare for the day, but Sukuna reached across the bed and brought you back down.

"You should sleep in more; you look adorable when sleeping." Sukuna teases you, and by instinct, you try to tear your wrist away, but this further fuels him to bring you into his arms and lock you up. Cradling you, he brushes a few strays of hair out. The push and pull you both had is almost desirable to other women in the harem. Sukuna in the morning looks different, nearly too humane for your liking. When he brushes the hair aside, he lingers his hand on the apple of your cheek and brings his lips to kiss the top of your head. Your reaction was like a cat sprayed with water, always struggling. "I almost forgot; good morning to you too." The body scent you had acquired sticks to you so well that it is only what pheromones entirely throughout the night. Maybe this is the scent he likes, besides your natural scent.

"I took some time off from my affairs and decided to tend to you." If you look offended, you do indeed; anything he does for you sounds like an offense. The foreign topic of him trying to soften you up always seems helpless, but Sukuna has time to try everything; a man like him is never out of ideas.

"I don't need you to," glaring at Sukuna, his smiles widened even more, and you took the liberty to push his face away when he closed up again with your other free hand.

[afternoon]

He was serious when he said he wouldn't leave you alone. You wanted to be by yourself, but he made it difficult. Not only had he dismissed everyone who served under you and told them that their service wasn't needed for the day, but he was also hand-hogging you.

Sukuna grabs your hand, and you forcefully pull it away; he does it again, and you repeat it. This childish play continues until he grasps it tightly, forcing you to walk side by side. "Let go." You wiggle your hand, trying not to lose composure, and Sukuna swiftly plays with your fingers and separates them from interlocking his with yours to tighten the hold.

"No," that one-word answer from him had you wish you could disappear into the air magically. "I made a promise, and I intended to keep it." Sukuna brings you even closer as you bump into his arm.

You both were walking to nowhere, only letting your feet guide you and him around the fortress ground. It wasn't until Asuna's head appeared in your view that Danzo's tugged his mother's hand to tell his mother he wanted to visit you quickly.

"Danzo?" You call from a few feet away, and the little boy brightens. He lets go of Asuna's hand and runs toward you at full speed, and knocks himself into your legs. Danzo smiles happily at you, and you use your free hand to pat the boy's head. Asuna greeted you and Sukuna while lingering where she stood. Her eyes trail to your and Sukuna's hands which are interlocked tightly. As a spectator, the scene ahead of her almost makes it seems like a perfect family of three should be if Danzo were yours, even though you were awkward in showing affection to Danzo in front of Sukuna. She kept seeing you side-eying the taller man, who was observing every millimeter of interaction. Asuna's son was very fond of you during the first meeting, even if he had misunderstood you for being a character from a book. Although you don't mind interpretation, you were rather genuine in your exchange with Danzo.

"Have you been good?" You readjust the multiple layers of collars of Danzo's clothing, fixing any creases. Danzo nodded rapidly with a hum.

"Use your mouth," Sukuna spoke up, and you again side-eye him. Danzo's little body tensed up at the sound of his father. You pretended to wiggle your hand in Sukuna's and elbow his side purposely, and he saw a subtle disapproving eye and a frown from you. You were peeved with his tendencies. Why be a grown man picking on a child, especially his own? Even his half-brother was treated almost the same.

Before you can open your mouth to comfort the child, multiple voices enter the yard. Out and emerge from the corner is Eisha with her daughter and Sena accompanying the crown matriarch along with a few minor concubines. Everyone was locking eyes with each other and stopped their idling talking. Eisha (along with Sena) picked up on how close you were to Sukuna, and a knot formed in her chest when the apparent physical contact of hand-holding was the first thing she saw. A tight-lipped wry gambol set on her lips as she greeted Sukuna and ushered her daughter, Eri, to do the same, so the rest followed suit. But her eyes flickered to Danzo's last second; he was also close. Eisha knew that Asuna's son wasn't a thought in Sukuna's mind as he was just one of the many children he sired. Still, it tickles her interest why he was so close when her daughter wasn't granted the same physical closeness but a mere glance.

"Greetings Lord Sukuna/ Father." Then the rest greeted you, besides Eisha, due to ranking. You give the rest acknowledgment with a thin nod and adequately greet Eisha only. "What brings you all out here, Lord Sukuna?" She inquires with pique curio sitting at the back of her mind.

"Thought it would do Lady (Name) good for some fresh air." Then Sukuna turns the question to Eisha, "And what are you doing out here? You are frail and susceptible to the cold, which could worsen your health."

"I'm glad that you ask Lord Sukuna," she then pulls Eri forward in front of her by the hand gently. Almost as if she wants Sukuna to acknowledge the child. "I came out here with Eri for a walk after her studies." There was only a flat 'oh' from Sukuna, and from how he sounded, it lacked interest. Even Sena picks up on the tone, and that pricks a nerve. If Sukuna doesn't even care about her two previous children, then why would he care about Eri at all? Even in your presence, he doesn't seem to show filial affection towards them.

"I see; carry on with your walk then." Sukuna quickly dismissed them, but Eisha wasn't willing to let go.

"If I could, would Your Lordship, Lady (Name), and Concubine Asuna allow us to join your route?" Eisha wouldn't allow you and Asuna to be alone with Sukuna. And behind her back, she made a hand sign which the lower-ranking concubines understood and made a quick excuse to leave the yard. So now that only leaves her, Eri, and Sena. What Eisha did, didn't escape Sukuna's vision; that only made him take a deep and intolerable sigh inwardly.

All he asked for was one day with you without interruption.

For Asuna, she thought this timing couldn't be any worse with the visible tension brewing. She could tell that Sukuna's mood had floundered a bit since, after all, he was only out here to be with you. Then she focused on you, which she could say for once; your mood seemed to be in sync with Sukuna, although you wanted to get rid of him.

°

Two weeks later, two figures on separate horses rode up and stopped by the entrance.

"So this is Sukuna's mighty castle, huh?" Mugetsu's keen eyes search every nook and cranny of the building to see how well the fortress is built. Then there's Totsuwa, who already feels the regret setting in. He only accepted the invitation out of sheer impulsiveness and hatred for the pink hair man, and now the feelings somehow dissolved once he made it to Sukuna's Hell doorstep. It was easy for Totsuwa to imagine himself slaying the demon and reclaiming all his honor, power, and glory that Sukuna had muddled; he even talks significantly about it in his drunken stupor at an inn a week back.

"Don't be a chicken now, Iriyu," Mugetsu teases his best friend, "we might be able to learn more about our enemy." Somehow that doesn't sound comforting to Totsuwa, even when their tone is meant to lighten him up.

Getting off their horses, they handed the reins to a stable boy and looked for someone with deep pink and white hair. It wasn't hard to spot them when they were wearing their white garment. "Hello, Lord Mugetsu and Lord Totsuwa; I am Uraume, Lord Sukuna's retainer." They greet the two men with a proper bow, "If you would please follow me, I'll guide you two."

Mugetsu tapped Totsuwa's arm a few times, "They look pretty," he whispered, eyeing Uraume's back, "if only I wasn't married and they weren't your buddy's retainer, then I would've gotten them."

"Please, for the love of God, shut up!" Totsuwa whispers right back to his friend. "You always say that to every pretty woman you walk by!"

Mugetsu: "I can't help it, though."

[sukuna's office]

"Whoa..." Surprise color Mugetsu and Totsuwa when they saw not just the room but you seated a foot away from Sukuna. Rumors about the favorite wife do hold.

"Stop ogling at my wife," the pink-haired man snapped, brows drawn together into a scowl with the corner of his lip quirking up, and a tongue click could be heard. Sukuna wasn't sure why you insisted on being here; he would let you join any other meetings, but why this one? He doesn't know. There was a smidge of hesitation presenting at the back of his mind even though he tried to push it away logically; it always came back up. However, Sukuna wouldn't let it show. During the last two weeks, you and he had an on-and-off time together, the same usual push and pull. Still, you somehow had inserted yourself into his schedule willingly today with the promise of being interested in politics.

Sukuna had warned you it would be boring to dissuade you from this meeting, but you brought up a point, "You were the one who allowed me to visit your meetings, but now you won't let me?" Point taken, and now here you are. In the logical aspect, this allows Sukuna to spend time with you. Albeit not the way how he wanted it. But he couldn't brush away the nagging thought that it didn't feel right for you to be here.

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[arcane-vagabond]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sassy Bob, Flirty Bradley, Supernatural elements, Siren calls. I think that's it?

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Here is chapter one!! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing it lol I'm so excited to continue this one. Just a quick reminder to you all that I will be out of town Wednesday-Saturday, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to update as I will be attending a wedding! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also follow me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I will be posting updates as well!

Series Masterlist

You crossed the bridge to North Island a few hours later, the sun hanging low in the sky, but not quite to the point of setting. You marveled at the expanse of water that stretched on beneath you as you drove.

“Not sure why the founders wanted to settle way the hell out here,” Bob grumbled beside you. “We’re too small to even have a damn Walmart.”

“Walmart is overrated,” you told him, turning the radio down. “Besides, small towns are so cute!”

“Not when you’re forced to live there every day,” Bob retorted with a roll of his eyes. You rolled your eyes back at him, repositioning Rusty who still sat on your lap.

“You’re too close to it to see all the charm it has to offer.”

“I give it two weeks before you eat those words,” he smirked. You reached over to smack his shoulder lightly, and he looked over at you in mock shock. “Don’t hit the driver!”

“Well, maybe the driver shouldn’t be such a cynic,” you teased, leaning back. Bob chuckled as the car reached the other side of the bay, passing the crowded beaches. “Does North Island get a lot of tourists?”

“Only during the summertime, really,” he replied. “It’s a calm, quiet little town with white beaches and pretty views all over the island. The founders have really played into the local legends over the years, so we have a lot of souvenir shops dedicated to those.”

“What local legends?” you asked him, quirking a brow. Bob flushed, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

“It’s dumb,” he grumbled, but you were listening intently now.

The two of you drove through the downtown area, people milling about and enjoying the end of the summer day. The dinner crowd was beginning to pick up and you could hear the music blaring from several different buildings.

“No, come on,” you grinned. “You can’t drop that little tidbit and then not tell me.”

“Alright, fine,” he sighed, glancing at you. “For as long as the town has been around, there have been stories of…things in the water.”

“What do you mean? Like a really big fish or something?”

He shifted in his seat, turning down a side road that led away from town.

“I mean,” he hummed, “things like mermaids.”

You laughed at that, and Bob grimaced. “I told you it was dumb,” he muttered.

“No, no,” you giggled. “It’s cute, really. I love mermaids!”

He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t if you grew up surrounded by them.”

“There you go being all cynical again,” you scowled. “I would have killed to live somewhere like this with such fun local legends.”

Bob pulled down a gravel driveway and past a grouping of trees. You saw a grand, white house perched at the edge of the hill overlooking the water. A porch wrapped around both the first and second floor, and you saw a path lead down the hill towards the beach.

“I’m glad one of us is excited to be here,” he chuckled, coming to a stop on the blacktop as you stared at the large house in front of you.

“You live here?” You asked, looking over at him in shock.

Bob had the decency to look sheepish as he turned off the car. “Yeah, this is home.”

At that moment, a small, blonde woman opened the door with a wide grin. She rushed out onto the porch as a burly, spectacled man stepped out behind her. Bob opened his door, and you followed suit. Susan Floyd rushed down the steps and up towards you, wrapping you in a warm hug before turning to give her son a matching one. Richard Floyd gave you a warm smile as he clapped his son on the back.

“You two must be exhausted after that drive,” Susan cooed, ushering you into the house as the two men moved to get your luggage out of the car. You smiled warmly at her and allowed her to lead you into the house.

“I’m not too tired,” you told her as she sat you down in a stool by the island in the kitchen. It was a spacious room, opening up into the dining room. A set of glass doors led out onto the back porch, the ocean sitting front and center in the beautiful view of the beach below.

“That’s good,” she hummed, stirring the pot on the stove. “Are you hungry, sweetie? I made some of my special spaghetti. It’s Bobby’s favorite, you know.”

Bob groaned as he stepped into the kitchen with his father. “Mom, I’ve told you. It’s not Bobby, it’s Bob.”

Susan smiled at the younger man affectionately. “Yes, of course dear. Were you hungry?”

“Starved, actually,” he smiled, plopping down in the seat next to you. Susan began piling noodles and sauce onto two different plates before setting them down in front of the two of you. Bob uttered a thanks before shoveling a healthy fork full into his mouth. You giggled, watching as he ate like he hadn’t eaten in months. You took a much smaller bite than he had, humming at how good the sauce tasted. It had a hint of red wine that pulled out the flavors of the garlic and herbs.

“How’s it taste?” she smiled at you, leaning against the counter.

“Ifs delisus,” Bob said through a mouthful of noodles. She scowled at him before throwing a napkin at him.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” she scolded before turning to look at you expectantly. You chuckled before nodding your agreement.

“It’s delicious, Mrs. Floyd.”

“No, none of that,” she scowled. “Call me Susan.”

“Yes, Susan,” you smiled. She smiled at you before turning to clean up the rest of the kitchen. Bob inhaled his first plate of spaghetti, and Susan was quick to load his plate up with more.

“Has Bob told you any of the town’s history yet, y/n?” Richard asked you from his spot at the dining room table. Bob groaned, hiding his face in his hands as you smiled.

“He told me about the mermaid legends,” you grinned. You saw Susan pause out of the corner of your eye as Richard gave you a wry smile.

“I don’t know if I would call them mermaids,” he mused, giving a pointed look at his son who refused to meet his gaze. “But our town has a long, storied history, yes.”

“Oh?” You asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Richard hummed, leaning back in his chair. “No, mermaid is an insulting term for what these creatures are. They’re fierce hunters, preying these waters with deadly accuracy. Sometimes they even hunt on land.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned. Susan gave him a warning look, but he continued.

“They say these creatures come out of the depths to prey on humans on the land, dragging them into the depths never to be seen again.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Susan snapped at him, Richard giving her an apologetic look. “I don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense tonight. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go take out the trash?”

Richard heaved a sigh, standing to obey her. He passed you with a wink, dropping a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, y/n,” he smiled, turning to head out the door. Susan sighed, turning to look at you once she heard the door close behind him.

“I’m sorry about him,” she grumbled, shooting a glare at where her husband had just disappeared. “He loves those crazy stories. Don’t even pay him any mind, okay?”

“I don’t mind!” You assured her. “I think it’s all very interesting. The most anyone talks about where I’m from is Bigfoot.”

“As much as I would love to hear you go on your bigfoot theories tirade again,” Bob spoke up, rolling his eyes. “I thought you might want to go out tonight.”

“Bobby, I’m sure she’s tired,” his mother started, but you shook your head, turning excitedly to look at your best friend.

“No, it’s fine!” You chirped. “I think it would be fun to go out and get to see the sites. Where did you have in mind?”

“I was thinkin’ I could take you down to the Hard Deck,” he mused.

Susan rolled her eyes at him. “You want to take her to a bar of all things?”

“Why not? The gang is going to be there tonight, I already texted them to make sure. They’re anxious to meet her.”

Susan seemed to brighten at that. “Oh, you’ll love’em, y/n! They’re such a good group of kids, and I just know they’ll love you too.”

“So we have your blessing then?” Bob joked, earning another scowl.

“Yes, you kids go out and have a good time, but don’t be out too late! I think your father said something about wanting to take the boat out tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He mock saluted, earning a smack to the top of his head this time. You chuckled at the two of them as Bob rubbed the back of his head. He turned to look at you with a scowl at your obvious amusement. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room.”

The night was warm despite the cool breeze blowing in through the window from the ocean, and you chalked it up to the densely populated bar you now found yourself sitting in. You had followed Bob inside, having to grab his hand in order to keep from getting separated amongst the crowd.

“Bob!”

You turned to see a group of five seated at a large table on the far wall next to the patio. The only woman in the group raised her hand to grab his attention, and Bob eagerly dragged you over to them.

“Hey, college boy,” grinned a tanned man with long, curly hair that was slicked back. “How’s it hangin’?”

“More importantly,” said the dark-skinned man across from him, looking at you, “who’s your friend?”

“Guys, this is y/n, my best friend from Duke,” he gestured to you with a grin. “Y/n, this is Mickey, Reuben, Natasha, Javy, and Bradley.”

Each of them waved to you at the mention of their name, and you waved back with a small smile. The mustached one, Bradley, grinned up at you before shuffling over on the bench.

“Ain’t no need to be shy, sunshine,” he winked at you, gesturing to the now open seat next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You sat down slowly next to him, Bob scooting onto the bench across from you and next to Natasha.

“So, y/n,” she smiled, leaning forward with intrigue clear in her eyes, “where you from?”

“Oh, I’m from Missouri,” you smiled at her.

“Missouri?” Mickey snorted, earning a ribbing from Javy. You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, it’s not glamorous or anything, but it’s home,” you explained.

Reuben leaned around Bradley to look at you. “So you were in the same major as Bob, right? How did you even get into that?”

“Oh, I’ve always had a fascination with the sea, I guess. Felt like I might have been a mermaid in another life,” you joked, and the group chuckled, earning a look from Bob as you looked around uncertainly. “Did I say something funny?”

“Nah, sunshine,” Bradley grinned. “It’s just cute is all. Imagine you being a little mermaid.”

“In fairness, I was five,” you blushed, and he reached down to pinch your cheek gently.

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on us again,” he drawled. Javy rolled his eyes, taking a sip from the glass of beer in front of him.

“You’re almost putting Jake to shame right now,” he chuckled, causing Mickey and Reuben to both snort. Bob looked around the bar, brow furrowing.

“Speaking of, where is he?” He asked the rest of the group. Bradley let out a low chuckle, resting his arm behind you as Natasha rolled her eyes at the name.

“Mandy has been especially clingy, as of late,” Reuben frowned, peering towards the bar with a pointed look. Bob turned, frowning at what he saw. “Been dropping hints left and right for weeks. She barely leaves his side.”

“Well, yeah,” Bradley scoffed, taking a swig from his bottle. “I’m not surprised since it’s almost time for-”

Natasha cleared her throat, giving a pointed glance to you.

“Almost time for what?” you asked, looking around at the table. No one said a thing, giving small glares at Bradley who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat and looked down at you, an easy smile spreading across his face.

“I just noticed that you don’t have a drink, sunshine,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me to the bar, and I’ll get you something?”

You gave one last look around the table before nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. I could use a drink.”

You stood, Bradley close behind you, and you looked over at Bob. “You’re usual?”

“Please,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smile. You returned it softly, following Bradley up to the bar.

“Bradley,” hummed the older woman behind the bar, green eyes narrowing in on him as she saw you next to him.

“Penny,” he smirked, leaning against the counter. She walked over to the two of you, placing a hand on her hip as she frowned at him.

“What can I get you?” She asked him.

“Two beers and?” He turned to you, eyebrow raised.

“A jack and coke, please,” you smiled at her. She returned the gesture warmly, moving to make your drink.

“You best be careful around this one, honey,” she drawled, eyeing the man next to you. “He has a habit of goin’ around breaking hearts.”

“Penny, you wound me,” Bradley cried in mock hurt, gaping mouth quickly turning into another grin. He shot you a wink. “I would never do that to sunshine here.”

Penny snorted, handing him two beers and you your glass. “Right. You’re no better than Seresin over here.”

She jerked her head to the other side of the bar. You followed her gaze, seeing a blond man turn at the sound of his name. He glanced over to where Penny was looking at you and Bradley leaning up against the bar. He had an easy smirk on his face that rivaled Bradley’s, and when he turned his green eyes to you, you swear your heart stopped beating for a moment. His eyes were like sea glass, a frosty, almost moss colored green. It was like the world faded to black around you as you looked at him. You felt something that you could only describe as a tether snapping into place as his eyes bore into yours. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn his eyes started glowing as he continued to stare into the very depths of your soul.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes snapped to the side where Bradley was watching you worriedly. You shook the silly thoughts from your head. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bradley chuckled down at you, a hint of worry still tugging at his lips.

“I was just asking if you were ready to head back to the others?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, glancing back at the stranger across the bar. He was still staring at you, face unreadable. The brunette standing next to him looked very put out as he continued to ignore her.

“Jake!” She hissed at him, gripping his jaw and turning his face to look at her. “Are you listening to me?”

Jake looked down at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “Huh?”

“You are so dense sometimes,” she snapped, dropping her hand back to her side. The stranger, Jake, glanced back over at you, and the brunette followed his line of sight, scowling when she saw you. Bradley let out a low whistle before nudging you with his elbow playfully.

“Would sure hate to be him right about now,” he joked, an exaggerated grimace making you giggle. “Mandy is no joke when she’s pissed.”

“Jake!” Mandy shrieked. You chanced another look across the bar. Mandy looked like she was about to blow a fuse as she stared daggers between you and the man at her side. Said man was now frowning, eyes darting between you and Bradley. “I’m talking to you!”

“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley said with a roll of his eyes at the couple across the bar. “If we stay any longer, I might lose my hearing.”

You followed him back to the table silently, still feeling the heavy weight of two green eyes on your back.

You slept with the window open that night, eager to feel the sea air on your skin as you slept. Your curtains billowed lightly as the moonlight poured into your room. You tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. Your bed wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite in fact, so you weren’t sure what had woken you up. You glanced at your phone, the numbers on the screen showing that it was far too early in the morning to still be awake. You huffed out a sigh, listening to the waves as they crashed against the shore below. That was when you heard it.

You weren’t sure what it was at first, it was so unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was a low hum that slowly turned into a lamentful cry amongst the breaking waves. You tossed your blankets back, quickly getting up and padding over to the window. The cry turned into what you could only describe as a song, not too dissimilar to one a whale would make, but this sounded almost…human? You peered out the window, heart racing as you continued to listen to the strange song. You felt a yearning unlike any other crescendo inside of you, calling to you from a distance almost like it wasn’t even your own. Your mind began to feel heavy, hazy with what, you weren’t sure. The song continued, calling to you, begging you to follow. Your eyes grew lidded, skin warm as you felt the call seep into your skin, drowning everything out but the inherent need to obey. You turned, taking a step towards your door.

A dog began to bark, causing you to jump and the song to stop. Shaking the cloudiness from your mind, you looked out the window once again. You caught sight of what you could only describe as a fish’s tail, silver scales gleaming in the moonlight, rising up before disappearing back beneath the waves.

[lightgirlification]

In Stars and Time: After Story Chapter 1

HERE WE GO FOLKS I'M SO EXCITED TO SHARE THIS STORY WITH YOU ALL!!! <3 This story is so important to me and I hope it will find a place in all of your hearts as well <3 CW for the story as it WILL contain sensitive topics, and I will warn for when the warnings are necessary. With that said, please enjoy the first chapter of this journey! <3

In Stars and Time: After Story

Chapter 1:

Siffrin was napping on a warm afternoon, a gentle breeze hitting his face cooling it down. Everything was peaceful, from the birds chirping to the wind blowing softly against the leaves on the trees. The sun’s rays shined down onto Siffrin’s already warm face, as he tried to recall what he dreamt. It was of a star, one that was there to help them and comfort him when he needed it.

It felt familiar, all too familiar…

“…Frin…! Siffrin!”

Oh no…No no no! He broke the loops, didn’t he? He made it out with his family, they are all with him, aren’t they?!

Calm down, try to breathe, you’re just having a bad dream. It’s just a bad dream!!

Siffrin felt like his throat was closing as his pulse began to race. He reached down to grasp the grass when he felt wood, and soon Mirabelle’s voice spoke again,

“There you are Siffrin! I was worried about you!” That was different too. Siffrin slowly opened his eye and finally remembered he had made his way over to the Favor Tree and had fallen asleep. That’s right, he was free. His body relaxed and released the tension in his limbs. Everything was fine, everything was fine, breathe in…And out…He turned to Mira and gave a tired smile,

“Mira…” Mirabelle sighed in relief, before giving the other a concerned, yet soft smile.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here. But you can’t keep wandering off like this! You still need to rest!” Mirabelle placed her hand on Siffrin’s forehead, “You’re still rather warm.” Right, he used craft again during that battle; another fever was bound to happen. Come to think of it, he was without his gloves and cloak at the moment, though it makes sense considering he’s been bedridden the past few days. Well, mostly, he kept making his way back to the tree after all. Mirabelle removed her hand but stayed close, looking at the other tilting her head,

“Why do you keep coming back here?” Siffrin pointed to the area across from him,

“I wanted to...Talk to Loop.” It is silent until Siffrin recalls where Loop is, or rather is not, and his expression turned solemn,

“Oh…That’s right.” He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t help it. The fever heightened his emotions and he...Missed them. Someone Siffrin cared deeply about, who helped him through the worst moments of his life, was the reason he had succeeded, and he couldn’t talk to them now. It wasn’t fair…Suddenly, Siffrin felt gentle pats to his head snapping him out of his thoughts,

“They’ll come back, Siffrin. I’m sure of it!” Siffrin stared at the Housemaiden, but nods, their smile returning,

“They super-duper promised.” Mirabelle gave a giggle,

“And that’s how you know they mean it! Come now, let’s get you back to the Clock Tower.”

Mirabelle helped Siffrin up and made sure to walk with him slowly. It had been 2 days since the loops had ended, and peace had returned to the land of Dormont. Siffrin, despite his fever, took in the sights of people going about their day in various ways outside of the loops. He’s still not used to it yet, being free from looping the same two days over and over. Seeing the same situations, hearing the same dialogue, fighting the same enemies; he gets anxiety just thinking about the whole thing. He remembers waking up the first night screaming, begging not to go back. Thank goodness Isabeau was by his side at the time. Soon the others were too, well except for...

...

He didn't want to think about that right now...

As Mirabelle and Siffrin approached the broken bridge, Isabeau soon came into view looking slightly anxious. Seeing them arrive the man almost rushes over, but refrains as to not overwhelm Siffrin,

“Found him where he was last time?” The man asked, and Mirabelle nodded,

“Napping under the Favor Tree.” Isabeau gave a soft chuckle, leaning down to ruffle Siffrin’s hair gently,

“I know you love adventure Sif, but right now you need to stay put.” The shorter of the three looked away feeling guilty, knowing he made the others worried again.

You always do this; you make things worse for them…

“I’m sorry...”

“It's okay buddy, we just need to make sure you are all better, alright? Up we go...” Isabeau lift Siffrin up, cradling him in his arms, before he and Mirabelle hopped over the broken bridge as Siffrin nuzzled into Isabeau's hold. It’s always so nice to be held by Isabeau, Siffrin thought, it’s tight but not crushing; more so protective. Siffrin loved his hugs a lot, then again, he loved all his family member’s hugs. The three enter the Clock Tower, and honestly Siffrin was thankful they chose to remain there instead of the House while he was bedridden; if he had to stay in that place any longer then he had to now it’d honestly be too much. They made their way past the dining area, where the sound of kitchen utensils and appliances can be heard. The smell of delicious food wafted through the air made Siffrin feel at ease, and soon, a young voice called out to him,

“Frin!” Bonnie ran over and lightly pat Siffrin’s arm, as if scolding him. “You were bad again! Good kids stay in bed when they're sick!”

“Don’t worry Bonbon.” Isabeau grinned, “We’ll be keeping a closer eye on him!” Bonnie crossed their arms in a huff,

“You better! Or they’ll miss out on the best soup I’ve ever made!” Siffrin perked up at what Bonnie just said. Soup sounded amazing right now, though to be fair anything Bonnie made would be great. Mirabelle giggled some more,

“I think they’re excited about that!”

“They should be!” Bonnie voice held pride, “Now, stay in bed and get more rest ‘Frin! Or I'll put potatoes in your soup!” Siffrin chuckled weakly, Bonnie wouldn't do that even with the threat. They’ve been giving him nothing but good food and made sure it was healthy too, and even though it was healthy it tasted amazing; just a testament to how great a cook Bonnie was. Mirabelle began to help Bonnie with preparing dinner as Isabeau carried Siffrin into the bedroom, where the rogue’s eye wandered to a bed where Odile lay. She was fast asleep and had been since everything ended.

Odile had passed out around the same time Siffrin did, but unlike him she had not woken up yet. Using Time Craft had taken a lot out of her, and while the Head Housemaiden reassured everyone she would be fine, Siffrin still felt responsible...

You ARE responsible. You’re surprised no one has held you accountable yet.

Siffrin buried his face into Isabeau's chest whimpering, and the man hugged him closer,

“She'll wake up Sif, and when she does, she'll be right as rain.” Siffrin couldn’t bare to look at the older woman,

“But...I did that to her...” Isabeau shook his head,

“She did what she did to save you Sif, and I think if it were up to her, she'd do it again.” Siffrin whimpered again on the verge of tears. Isabeau walked over to their shared bed and sat down with them now on his lap, still in his arms,

“Do you really think she'd blame you after all this, when she used it even though it was dangerous?” That was the million silver coin question,

“…I don’t know.”

You don’t want to know.

Isabeau rubbed Siffrin’s back in comfort,

“Well, I think she won't, and that's an Isabeau guarantee!” Siffrin finally smiled, and he rested the side of his head on Isabeau's chest; he could fall asleep here if he wanted. At this, Isabeau nuzzled his cheek in Siffrin’s hair, causing the other to giggle. The rogue could slightly feel the other's stubble through his thick bright hair, and he adored it,

“Heh, don't fall asleep just yet you adorable knife you. You still need to take the medicine the Head Housemaiden recommended for you.” The eye-patched wearing adult grimaced,

“Do I have to? It’s horrible...”

“Now now, good children take their medicine no matter how bad it tastes. It's healthy for you!”

“Bonnie’s healthy stuff tastes significantly better...” Siffrin muttered, leading Isabeau to chuckle,

“Food can be the best medicine in theory, but to make you truly better, we unfortunately must use the ‘horrible syrup’.” Siffrin groaned and Isabeau set his favorite short fellah on the bed before he prepared the medicine, then handing it in a small cup to Siffrin who stares at it with disdain before drinking it. He instantly sucks in a breath.

GROSS.

As usual, he had half a mind to spit it out right now. However, Isabeau and the others would disapprove, so he wouldn’t. Siffrin swallowed it before sticking his tongue out as if airing it out would make the taste go away. Isabeau pat his head,

“Nice job Sif. I know how bad it tastes.” Siffrin made a face, clearly not believing the younger man,

“No, you don’t.”

“Okay I don’t, but I can imagine. I’ve tasted some bad medicine in my life too, you know! Felt like my worst enemy!” Siffrin smirked,

“What? ‘Mr. Amazing-Wonderful-Funny-Buff Isabeau’ almost defeated by some medicine?”

Isabeau blushed deeply at Siffrin’s words, as does the scissors craft user himself.

OH NO. YOU GOT TOO COMFORTABLE YOU FORGOT YOU ONLY SAID THAT ONCE OUTSIDE OF THE LOOPS. AND IT WAS DURING THE WORST POSSIBLE MOMENT.

The older between the two grew flustered, “I-I mean-! What did I say? I didn’t say anything! Did you hear that c-cause I didn’t!” Siffrin covered his face as if that will hide him completely, and soon he hears a bashful laugh. He lets out a groan as he peaked through his hands.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry, you just...caught me off guard.” Isabeau rubbed the back of his neck, a joyful smile on his lips, “‘Mr. Amazing-Wonderful-Funny-Buff Isabeau’ huh? I remember you saying that before. Sounds like something I would call myself.” Siffrin groaned again,

“Please wipe it from your memory.” The taller male laughed,

“No can do! It was spoken by the ‘Amazing-Wonderful-Funny-Cute’ Siffrin! It is forever ingrained in my train of thought forever more!” Siffrin curls in on himself, forehead hitting his knees as he whined, and the larger man simply chuckled some more, “It’s fine Sif. If anything, I really like the name! It means you think highly of me.” Siffrin is quiet for a minute, before looking up at the rock craft user,

“I always think highly of you. I’m just...Not good at saying what I mean.” Isabeau gazes warmly at them, and they didn’t understand why Isabeau looked at them like that. They didn’t understand why the other loved him, but because it’s Isabeau they can believe it. The man would never lie to them, he never has.

“And that’s okay Sif. Talking can be hard; trust me I get it.” Isabeau rubbed the back of his neck again, “You um...Know how I feel about you, though I could’ve gone on longer.” He could’ve, but he saw Siffrin was becoming overwhelmed, so he stopped. It was adorable honestly; Siffrin hoped he could hear the rest someday soon. There was a comfortable silence between the two as both seem to not know what to say next. Siffrin played with the blanket underneath his fingers, deep in thought.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Siffrin and Isabeau were now joined by Bonnie and Mirabelle who arrived with dinner. They have once again decided to eat together in the bedroom, Mirabelle and Bonnie on one bed, Isabeau and Siffrin on another. Siffrin was given a bowl of soup instead of what everyone else was served however he didn’t mind, the soup tasted just as great as what everyone else was having.

“And then Bonnie showed me how to chop up the vegetables perfectly!” Mirabelle said with a smile, and Bonnie grinned,

“Nille taught me! She says it’s an ‘artfoam’!”

“Artform, Bonbon.” Isabeau corrected,

“Nille says it’s an ‘artform’!” Siffrin smiled, and he ate more of his soup. It was so delicious, and he let out a pleased sound, causing Bonnie to beam proudly,

“Told you he’d like it! Especially with the broth we made!” Mirabelle nodded,

“There was never any doubt Bonnie!” Of course not, Bonnie was the best chef there ever was in Siffrin’s mind. He gave a big grin,

“All hail the Great Chief Bonnie!” Bonnie blinks before raising their fists in the air,

“Th-That’s right! I AM THE GREAT CHEF BONNIE!” Mirabelle and Isabeau giggled,

“All hail!” They both declared and the group laughed before everyone began to talk about things they planned on doing when their new journey began, Siffrin remaining quiet throughout most of it. He can’t remember the last time he felt comfortable not saying anything, not worrying if another person may judge him if the conversation didn’t continue. Perhaps with his family he knew it was okay to be quiet, that words can be left unsaid, and the feelings are still carried.

Still, they’d like to say something for the sake of it.

“I am...not entirely sure how to handle all this, being free and...feeling truly loved.” The other three look at them, and they continued, “Odile says I was probably loved before I forgot everything, but it’s hard to understand you know. Hard to believe.” Siffrin brushed his arm dotted with little scars he gave himself in the house, an action he will never be proud of, “But I want to believe it. I want to believe that my whole life, despite my flaws and mistakes, I’ve always been loved. That I had a home, parents who looked at me and were...” Siffrin recalled seeing an island from the House’s top floor window. A part of him somehow knew, deep down, that was where he used to belong. He began to tear up, but knew it was not from the fever, “...Were proud of me.”

“Siffrin...” Mirabelle whispered sadly. It is quiet, and Siffrin believed he had said something out of turn. However Isabeau, although hesitating at first, placed a hand on Siffrin’s. The shorter adult's shoulders raised a little in response, before he looks at the other, eye glassy with tears threatening to fall. Isabeau’s expression was somber yet held so much care for the other,

“We want to tell you what you desperately want to hear but...We can’t do that. However, what I can say is that you were given life. Someone carried you for months, raised you, and even though you can’t remember, the fact that you still had belongings on you means something.” Bonnie nodded swiftly with a determined expression,

“Yeah! Parents who are thinking would never let you be without important things!”

“Bonnie...” Mirabelle clasped her hands together and held them to her chest, and Siffrin stared at all of them. It is quiet once again, but only for a moment,

“I...” Isabeau began, “Took a closer look at your cloak while you’ve been resting, to study. I-I hope you don’t mind! I didn’t mess with it of course! I just always thought it looked amazing so I wanted to see if I could make more things like it for you!” Isabeau collected himself by taking a deep breath, “And I...can’t really make anything like it. I’m not experienced enough.” Siffrin tilted his head, and he let Isabeau continue, “First off, the type of stitching your cloak has is called ‘backstitching’. It’s a very solid type of stitching, used in a lot of different places, right? But Vaugardian clothing is moving away from it cause, well, many think it’s boring.” The younger pointed to his own clothing, “For instance, my clothes have ‘chainstitching’, which has a zig zag shape because it looks cuter, I guess.” He then looked at Siffrin’s cloak hanging in the closet,

“But backstitching is much more durable. Come to think of it...Maybe your hat had the same type of stitching, as it was probably paired with your cloak. Next, your cloak is made of wool, going one thread up, then down, etc.-”

“WOOL?!” Bonnie interrupted, Mirabelle speaking next,

“Th-Then how did he survive the summer heat?!”

“I’m getting to that!” Isabeau makes sure the others returned to listening before he continued once more, “The cloak, and most likely the hat, were less likely to make you look pretty or stand out, and more so to keep you comfortable.” Wait...Siffrin was starting to recall this conversation...

“There’s craft woven into the seams, and it regulates your temperature to make sure you are always cool or warm.”

“Th-That’s very advanced level crafting!!” Mirabelle exclaimed and Isabeau nodded,

“Indeed. Not only that, but the cloak was made to grow with him.”

That’s right...Siffrin remembered that...

Isabeau smiled warmly, “So, whoever made your cloak, and by extension your hat, really loved you Sif. They wanted you to be happy and cozy for a long, long time.” Siffrin couldn’t stop the tears that fell from his eye, them dripping onto the back of his hand. The trio panic, as Isabeau griped Siffrin’s hand tighter.

“O-Oh geez! I’m sorry Sif, I didn’t mean to make you upset!” Mirabelle placed her plate on the nightstand and hopped off where she sat before she made her way over to Siffrin and began drying his eye with a handkerchief,

“Oh Siffrin, please don’t cry. We were just trying to help.” Siffrin shook his head, trying to hold back their sobs,

“I-I’m okay. I just...Am thankful to know all that.” Bonnie walked over and huddles close,

“D-Do you want more soup Frin? I have lots more!” Siffrin wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t form now; he was crying and couldn’t stop. The cloak he had ever since he could remember was made with love and care, he had nothing to fear at all...

“See? I told you...” Everyone jumped and turned towards the other occupied bed. There was Odile, smiling tiredly at them,

“You are and always have been very lovable Siffrin.”

[cybertroniannugget]

All for professionalism (Optimus x male reader)

Can't find many OP x male reader stories so I'm here to change that. Hope y'all like it^^

About this fic:

Nsfw, zoomcall, dubcon, somewhat ooc OP ig, male reader, office spicy time, OP has a valve

2.845 words

You enter your personal studio and place the bag you had been carrying on your back onto the kitchen table.

Releasing a sigh, both hands placed on the kitchen counter and head hanging low, you went through today's schedule in your mind.

A swift look to the clock on the wall to your right, confirming the lack of time you had to actually do something other than organizing and listening to superiors.Pulling yourself together, you go for the fridge, taking a can of energy out.

"I'm so gonna need that, or Galloway's endless monologue will be the end of me."

Murmuring to yourself, then noticing the presence of someone else behind you.

Metal arms wrap around your waist and a helm is placed on your shoulder.

"It appears you are stressed."

Another sigh leaves you, as you place a hand on your lover's cheek.

"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine."

You turn your head to press a tender kiss on Optimus' lips and it was at this moment that the embrace around you tightens a bit.

Your heart skips a beat as a servo made its way further down, gently grabbing your crotch area.

"Optimus, I can't right now. I've got a meeting to attend in 5 minutes."

He releases your sensitive area, turning you around rather quickly and lifting you up onto the table. Both hands on your hips he lets his lips crash down onto yours, a slight whimper escaping from you.

For a few seconds you indulge in the erotic act, but then you notice Lennox and Epps standing behind a glass door in the building opposite to yours, which gave them the entirety of the current view.

Pushing Optimus to the side you sprint up to the window, frantically closing the curtains, receiving a thumbs up followed by visible laughter from the two men before you dissappear from their view.

Thumb and pointer finger pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes closed and taking in a deep breath you turn to the side, before releasing yet another sigh. Crossed arms over his chassis, Optimus leaned against the table.

"You seem way too proud of yourself right now...", you mumble after turning to look at him. "Of us getting caught? I would not say so."

He nods, optics flickering towards your lower area, where he had just teased you before. "But one could say that I have succeeded in something else."

You had been so distracted that you couldn't find the time to realize that you were starting to get an erection.

Face red, and flustered you walked back to grab your bag and held it infront of the bulge forming in your pants.

"Very funny Optimus. But I really gotta prepare my setup for the call."

As much as you wanted to just ditch the probably uneventful meeting you knew that if you did, the hailstorm of complaints that were to come from the liason would be too much for you to want to take care of.

Luckily the equipment on your desk was brand new, so that leaving the kitchen and the computer now being ready to enter the callroom took about 30 seconds.

Want to know what took less than half a minute to occurr?

Optimus fucking Prime having a servo placed on your shoulder and pushing your back into a wall. At least the curtains were already closed in this room because of the sun shining in.

"Optimus I-" You grab his chin, keeping his helm steady, to remove his lips from yours and make him look at you.

"Not now.", you said firmly, watching the blue in his optics brighten, as to challenge you.

"You do know that this is far from professional right now?", you remarked, rasing an eyebrow at Optimus.

"Oh, I am all for professionalism.", he replied, voice boastful.

With another passionate kiss he grabbed your crotch once again, teasing you a lot more this time.

With a lively laugh you slap his arm, then grabbing it to free yourself from him.

"Stay out of the frame and be quiet.",you ordered him and while walking past your hand brushes along his arm plating and then you sat down.

" I mean it!", you add, a finger raised as he turned around to face you.

Vocalizers emitting a chuckle he places his servos on his hips, watching you intently with his helm tilted.

You couldn't help but blush upon seeing the smug expression he had on his faceplates.

Surely that bot was up to no good...

Whatever was going through his processor must wait until after the meeting, which you joined, camera and microphone on.

Shooting a glare at Optimus before the camera connected, you motioned for him to not make a sound by raising a finger infront of your lips.

He had been on earth long enough to know that this gesture meant for him to shut it and not make even the tiniest of sounds.

And he wouldn't be making any. Not even when you were focused on presenting your research.

So fixated on the subject that you didn't notice Optimus disappearing from your field of vision.

Only when a servo caressed up your thigh you realized and froze, stopping mid-sentence.

"Sir, you were saying?"

The screen changed to Galloway, whosw expression actually showed great interest in what you were saying.

A truly rare sight...

"Eh, excuse me for a second, I have to look it up again."

That was a lie. You perfectly knew when you had gone to Germany to talk with the Chancellor and what exactly the topics of discussion were.

Rustling through the folder laid open infront of you, you take a sip from the can of energy then clear your throat and continue.

"As I was saying..."

Optimus knew that he would receive a summary of this meeting later during the day, so he focused on the task before him.

Running a single digit up and down your inner thigh he spread your legs open, getting comfortable in between them. Knowing that anything else would make too much of a noise you reach down to smack his helm before pushing yourself back on your rolling chair.

That wasn't of great help as you were pulled back the same second you had freed yourself.

With his arm in a tight grip on your hip, you were left with nothing but to just continue and keep your composure.

A private notification pops up on your screen, the sender being no one other than the culprit beneath your desk.

I am all for professionalism, which is why you are going to have to remain silent and appear focused.

Continuing your lecture, tensing up as the servo, which was not holding you in place, started grinding along the bulge of your erection beneath the pants you were wearing at the moment.

Silently your belt was unbuckled, the buttons and zipper following suit.

The servo, that had been keeping you in place , let go to grip your waistband and pull your pants down, just enough to free your errection, He does so slowly as to not raise any suspicions.

Your fully errect dick exposed before Optimus now, your jaw tensed up as you knew what would come next.

His servo lazily grasped around you.

Feeling a slight moisture you sighed internally. Of course he had taken lube down there with him...

Taking a deep breath in through your nose as he began stroking you slowly, you listen intently to the remarks of the other people present in the call.

Someone's cat began running in the background off the call, making all kinds of noises. After everyone has had their laugh, you were advised to turn off the microphone unless you were speaking.

"This happened at the right moment don't you agree?"

Still looking at the screen, you place a hand infront of your mouth to look like you were resting your head in it.

"Shut up...", you whisper, a low whimper following suite.

You had to admit, that being able to keep the mics turned off would be beneficial.

A new sensation tingled across the underside of your length. He was stepping the game up, by now actively using his glossa to pleasure you.

And as much as you hated to admit it in this situation, he was damn good at it.

Adjusting your hand to cover a bit more of your face, you were having a hard time keeping your composure up. But no one noticed at least.

His servo started stroking you again, and combined with the licking you took in a sharp breath, hips jerking forward involuntarily.

"Someone appears to be needy.", he whispered, a low chuckle following while he continued the teasing with his glossa.

"Stop teasing already and-"

Your words were cut off as you felt a familiar warmth engulfing your cock.

Eyes still focused on the screen before you, you place your hands infront of you on the desk, giving it all right now to look relaxed and focused.

Desperately trying to get away you attempt on moving backwards again, only to be held firm again.

A low growl emits from the Prime's vocalizers, the vibration having you clutch the side of your table.

So he was threatening you now...?

You're thinking about ways to pay him back later as he started moving his helm up and down, glossa adding onto the pleasure.

You continue listening, one hand reaching down to grab his finials. This wasn't visible to the people attending the videocall, so everything went on smoothly.

How were you supposed to stay calm when he was giving it all to ruin you right in this moment?

"Speaking of Optimus Prime, does anyone of the people present know his whereabouts right this moment?"

Yeah of course you did. He was right here under your desk and giving you a blowjob that had you holding onto him for dear life.

Remembering that Lennox was attending the call aswell you prayed internally, hoping he wouldn't mention that he saw you passionately making out with the leader of the Autobots.

To your relief he didn't and just said that the Prime was probably busy on Patrol.

Busy? Definitely, but not on a patrol. Unless you could call sitting between your partner's legs and his dick deep inside your intake, a patrolling mission.

"We'll take a short break of 15 minutes. Everyone sort your gathered information."

And with that freeing sentence you make sure to turn off camera and microphone, throwing your head back, hand grabbing for Optimus' helm.

"You're going to be the end of me...!", you manage to hiss out between gritted teeth.

Looking down, your eyes meet his optics and you were met with a sly smirk before he went down on you again, gaze still lifted up to meet yours.

You knew that he himself was getting riled up by doing this, so you decided to add onto that by letting your whimpers and moans out.

The effect was drastic. Feeling Optimus stop for a moment and his grip on your hips loosen, with optics squinted, you took the matter into your own hands.

Checking the screen again to make sure both camera and mic were off, you quickly rolled back with your chair, out of his grasp, grabbing his arms to yank him with you.

Kind of taken aback by your sudden action, he did not protest, letting you pull him up to his pedes.

With a firm grasp on his chin, you look him directly into the optics, faces not even an inch apart. (2.5cm)

Your other hand placed on his waist, you smirk.

"That was very enjoyable, now it is time for me to repay the favor don't you think?"

Seeing that all too familiar spark in his optics, you lean up to embrace him in a passionate kiss, gently pushing him towards your desk.

Hastily moving the documents to the side and pulling the cord from the camera, you guide Optimus up to sit up on the table.

With one leg on each of your sides, you tenderly rub across his interface panel, feeling the heat radiating from it.

Gently grasping it with your hand, a low groan came from the Cybertronian.

"Open up for me, would you?", you whispered close to his audial, then placing soft kisses across his neck cabling while lazily working on your dick.

The Prime tilted his helm to the side, granting you better access to his neck area. You continue working on his neck, the hand that had been placed on his crotch now on his shoulder.

As you were rubbing yourself against his interface panel, you felt it parting, permitting your entrance.

Feeling his valve with two fingers, pumping them in and out, you managed to get more of those sweet sound out of your partner.

One of his servos on your shoulder, he grabbed your length with the other one, the message clear.

Retracting your fingers from his wet valve, you lift your hand up to your face, admiring the liquid coating the two fingers.

While maintaining eye contact, you take those fingers into your mouth, watching the Prime become flustered at this sight.

"Hm, you taste so good.", you whisper lowly, pulling your pants a bit lower, so they wouldn't be bothering you and putting one hand on his hip, the other one guiding you to his entrance.

A shudder went through his entire frame as you started entering him. His valve feels hot. Not enough to burn you though, rather it was a welcoming feeling whenever you were inside of him.

Lifting one leg to wrap around you, you knew he was becoming desperate.

And as much as you loved to tease him, in the back of your head you remember that the time you've got at hand was limited.

So without further hesitation, you begin moving inside the Prime, slowly starting to pick up in pace.

Now steadily pumping in and out of him, he had his helm laid back, optics dim, while you were looking down between the two of you.

Both hands on his hips, you inched closer, your chest now touching his.

Optimus looks back at you, facial expression indicating the arousal shooting through his systems.

"Gosh, you look so hot...", you whisper looking back up at him.

A weak smile appears on his features and then he lowers his helm to let his vocalizer emit a whimper.

Oh, how much you loved to hear him make this exact sound.

Gently pulling at the cabling on both sides of his hips you got another one of those sounds out of him.

One of your hands went to grab his chin again.

Oh how you loved that simple gesture.

"I want you to look at me when you make those sweet sounds.", and upon finishing that sentence you ram into him, hard, pulling yet another whimper from his vocalizer.

"Don't be shy, let me hear your beautiful voice.", you whisper, not slowing down your pace.

You felt him clench around you, knowing that you hit a spot with that sentence.

With both legs around your waist, he moved his hips more towards you, optics still locked on your own eyes. "So obedient.", you say breathlessly, fastening your pace and pressing a kiss on his lip plates.

Entering his intake with your tongue you feel him moan into your mouth, which gets you dangerously close.

Parting your lips again, your hand still keeping his helm fixed you looked him back into the optics.

Mouth slightly agape, he looks back at you, vents heaving, trying to cool his systems down.

He went to throw his helm back, only to be stopped by your firm grip.

"I want to see your face when you overload, while I'm inside of you."

That send him over the edge, and you had to place your hand at the back of his helm to keep him looking at you.

His whimpers were cut off by static filling his vocalizer, and his optics were flickering.

Watching him overload like this on your desk, is what made you finish and your movements became sloppy before entirely coming to a halt. With a deep groan you finished inside of the Prime, and you let go of his chin, your own eyes closed and head hanging low now.

Slowly withdrawing yourself from his valve you look back up at him, to be met with a smug expression.

"I won", he declared, proud of himself.

You shake your head and snicker, completely out of breath.

"Fine, you did, now let's get you cleaned up before I have to rejoin the call."

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

Sometime later

"So, I assume you and the bossbot had some funtime?" You spit out your drink, punching the tall black man wearing camouflage next to you.

"Shut up Epps!"

"I mean, he did look relaxed earlier so he definitely was able to get some steam out", Lennox added, earning a punch from you as well.

"Assholes..."

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

The Tears of The Damned

Dennis Rafkin x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings- Reader committed S*icide, ghosts, kidnapping souls, detailed descriptions of death(nothing too graphic), panic attacks, angst, cursing, non-canon reader insert (obviously), no happy ending (will be a happy/bittersweet ending if I do a part 2), blood

A/N- I never post the authors note before the fic but please PLEASE seek help if you're depressed. You are loved and worthy of living <3. I want to see you strive.

The Crickets were the loudest thing heard on the empty street. Dennis sat in a parked car, overlooking his next job location. He hated this more than anything, scoping out the area to report back to his boss. The dense forest obscured the view of the bridge beyond.

The tortured souls he helped capture for money weighed heavily on his conscience. It was wrong, but living on the street with constant migraines caused by spirits outweighed his guilt.

The bridge stood still, the wind seemingly avoiding the area at all costs tonight. It was deathly silent, and even the wildlife seemed to be absent.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the bridge, except for the tragic event that happened in 1944. A young woman plummeted to her death, and there were stories about her crying at the dead of night. The town of Warrington stood domestically, without issues except for this one blemish on its otherwise clean slate.

His stomach twisted, and he swore that he could hear something in the water below. Splashing, wailing, crying out in pain. Opening the car door to check it out for himself, he slowly made his way out. The instant his shoe hit the cobblestone path, it went silent again. Maybe it was just his imagination.

The hairs standing on end at the back of his neck were definitely not imagined, though. His body reacted as if being hunted by an unseen force. The atmosphere shifted around him, whether it was a warning to leave or hesitance to the new soul trespassing in the area, he didn’t know.

Locals in the town warned him on his way up the mountain.

“I swear I feel the urge to jump off that damned bridge every time I hike there”

“She was so helpless, poor dear.”

“The kids in town think she might’ve been pregnant. Maybe the father killed her”

The townspeople’s words echoed inside his head like alarms bells. Rumors, that’s all they really were. He didn’t need to know anything about the ghost, just that she was here. The less he knows the better.

After a few deep breaths, he gained the courage to move towards the bridge. The old wooden boards creaked beneath his weight. The beams overhead swung dangerously as if threatening to cause him harm.

His movements were slow and precise, trying not to set off the balance of everything around him. With his hands firmly secured in his pockets, he moved over to the railing and peaked over the edge.

The water below was eerily still, not a disturbance in sight. Confusion racked him as he stared aimlessly, trying to find anything that could have made those noises. While leaning over the railing, his hand graced the wooden post.

Racked with a searing pain, Dennis threw his head back towards the night sky as visions plagued him. They moved by fast, fractured, and barely any valuable information came to him.

There was screaming, crying, and anxiety squeezed his heart in a death grip as his heart threatened to break through his fragile rib cage. The visions made no sense at first, but he felt his body move on its own.

He was sprinting, determination rushing through him as he ran towards the railing. He jumped off and suddenly he jolted back into the position he was in prior. He hadn’t moved at all, instead firmly planted at the railing, looking over the edge.

The vision showed him the perspective of the ghost. The anxiety, the fear, the anger, it must’ve been what she felt before she jumped.

In his peripheral vision, a flash of a blue gown glittered up from within the water. But when he turned to track it, it was gone.

A few moments passed as he tried to regain his composure. Before he wanted no part in knowing what happened here, but now he was more than invested.

After going back and forth with his thoughts, he finally decided to speak. “Show me” Dennis whispered under his breath, closing his eyes. His head hung low as he kept his breathing as steady as possible.

A chilled hand caressed his cheek with the lightest touch but it was enough to send him back into another vision. The young woman stood in front of him a few feet further down the bridge, taking a few steps back as if to gain momentum. She hesitated, gripping the edge of her powder blue nightgown tightly between her fists.

Dennis looked closer at her face and saw fresh tears cascading down her soft cheeks. Her body racked with sobs as she contemplated her fate. She was shaking, and for a moment he even felt the urge to reach out and comfort the spirit. But this wasn’t happening now, he knew he wasn’t there when it happened, so he remained frozen in place, not interfering.

Her head turned to look down the path. Her blurry gaze looked right through him, and for once he felt what the spirits might feel every day. Why did he want to be seen by her?

Seemingly making up her mind, she threw down the edges of her gown once more and sprinted towards the railing, leaping off and into the water.

He expected to hear the water first, but instead heard a sickening crack. Hesitantly he made his way to the railing, daring to look at what had become of her.

Her spine cracked in the middle of her back, draping her body in an uncomfortable position on the jagged rocks she collided with. Half of her body was submerged in the unforgiving waves, eventually sweeping her fully into its depths.

He came to and panted. His skin slicked with a cold sweat as he looked in every direction. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes as he frantically patted his right pocket for his prescribed medicine. It fell to the ground with a light clink, the pills spilled out of the container, rolling between the cracks of the floorboards and into the water below.

It was tragic having the only comfort in his life washed away from his grasp. Especially in the midst of a raging panic attack brewing deep within him. His heart once more pounded against his rib cage and he clutched his shirt in his fist, dropping to his knees.

A figure approached from his left, but went unnoticed through his tears. Turning his eyes to look at the ground beside him, a single pill remained unmoving on the ground. He could’ve sworn they had all been wasted and gone.

“Why?” A breathless whisper from his cracked lips. Not speaking to anyone in particular as he picked up the pill and placed it in his shaky palm.

The wind hushed him comfortingly as it went past, the first calm feeling of the night washing over him as he looked up to see he was once more alone on the bridge.

The team arrived on scene in heaps. The night before was quiet, and at one point Dennis would've even called it slightly peaceful, despite the events. This, however, was chaos.

Trucks drove without regard onto the previously barren path and men piled out of them with determination. Shouting of directions was heard as Cyrus Kriticos waved his hand in the direction of the bridge. An authoritative aura surrounded him.

"I want men at the bottom of the river and up on the bridge. We leave no room for the ghost to escape, do you understand me? I won't accept any mistakes!"

Dennis arrived a moment after, looking around the area cautiously. "What's with the extra help? I told you this would be an easy catch"

Cyrus turned to him with a raised brow, completely disregarding his words. "I told you to be here on time. You may be valuable to me but that doesn't mean you get an exception in tardiness."

He let out an awkward laugh, clearly intimidated by the man Infront of him. "I needed a refill on my meds, you see I-"

Cyrus groaned and turned around. "I never asked to hear about your issues. Just do your job and keep those mind-altering drugs of yours out of it, I need you ready for this, understand?"

All he could muster in reply was a nod of his head, not willing to overstep and lose this job. Once a safe few feet away from the working men and his boss, he took a deep breath before putting on the clear glasses. The only way he could see the spirits clearly. All of the other workers already wore them, along with Cyrus himself. Closing his eyes, he felt out your energy by placing his palm firmly against the wood of the old bridge.

In return he felt...nothing. It was so quiet in fact that he feared you might've moved on overnight. But then he heard it in the distance, the quiet sobbing coming from below the bridge. Making his way down the narrow rocky path to underneath the bridge he spotted you.

Flashes of your figure beamed in and out of his sight. Your hunched over frame sat underneath the bridge in the dark corner. Your nightgown stuck to you, dripping against the dirt as your hair hung wetly Infront of your eyes in strands. He supposed this was the only spot to hide from the prying eyes of everyone here.

Somehow despite this, he found himself in awe of you. Your beauty transcended, even past death. For a split second he regretted taking this job in the first place. He let out a deep sigh, alerting you of his presence.

Your eyes widened in fear, beginning to stand up to leave quickly. Only then did he realize the obscure curvature of your spine. It twisted backwards, which made sense considering how you landed on the rocks. Even still, he thought nothing of it as he searched for your face. His hands raised in defense to show he meant no harm.

Your torso swayed unnaturally as you moved to cover yourself, hands clutching your hips as you backed further into the darkness. "Traitor"

The words echoed in his mind like a scratched tape recording. It was breathy and barely audible but luckily, he heard it.

"Traitor? No, I'm just doing my job" He tried to defend himself, waving his hand up towards where the men gathered on the bridge.

"Sellout" you spit out with the same scratchy tone as before. Your words, though hurtful to him, made him much less anxious than he had been on the previous jobs he works with Cyrus. This seemed different. No other spirits ever bothered to communicate with him. Hell, most of them tried to kill him.

You weren't violent like the others, and he found himself contemplating his next move. Again, the guilt crept into his heart, tightening around it like a vise. The banging of the men working overhead seemed to startle you as you took a step further back. For a moment he feared you'd flee completely or vanish.

"Wait! let me help you, alright? Spirits are sometimes connected to objects. If I can find yours, I can get you out of here." Dennis managed a smile, slowly lowering his hands back to his sides.

A long moment of silence passed between you both. You analyzed his every move to find any ounce of a lie behind his gaze. Seemingly finding none, you slowly moved over to the side, arms wrapped tightly around your broken midsection. A gentle tilt of your head led his gaze to a thorny rose bush.

Twisted deep in the stems was a small gleam from the reflected moonlight. Easily missed if one didn't know where to look. He got closer and surprisingly you didn't move far from where you stood. Your eyes tracked him like a hawk as he moved to kneel by the bush.

The pants bunched at his knees quickly absorbed the mud from the wet earth beneath him. Reaching into the bush, he flinched as the thorns cut into his flesh. Still, he prevailed in his mission and got the object out from its confines. Opening his bloody palm to inspect it finally, he discovered that it was a small golden heart locket. It seemed rusted at the hinges through years of neglect and constant flowing water from the stream.

Dennis looked up from the locket and his eyes crinkled with confusion as he looked around and realized that you had once more, vanished from sight.

After coming back up to the top of the bridge, he stood alongside Cyrus with his arms crossed. He hated the amount of guilt that had gained exponentially by that point. It hurt him to go along with this still.

The large glass enclosure being lowered by the crane hit the ground with a loud thud, dusting the entire area around it in a thick cloud.

Like clockwork the Latin words spoke through the speaker from the truck. It tore you from your hiding place, and you were pulled violently towards the noise. Fear instantly came back, and fresh tears gathered in your eyes.

An ear-splitting scream erupted from your lips as your legs moved on their own towards the containment unit. Your nails clawed at your dress, trying to gain composure over yourself once more. Your ghostly form enslaved to the cryptic language being spoken into the air.

The workers covered their ears, their eyes squinted in pain as many of them tried to get as far away from the noise as possible.

Your eyes landed on Dennis, and he actually shivered at the hateful gaze you sent his way. Your screams continued to echo as you were forced into the glass box by the workers who chanted loudly to capture you between their stances. The room you had to move slowly grew lesser and lesser as you walked backwards. You tried swatting at one of the men, actually managing to tear through his shirt. Your fighting stopped momentarily as your back hit the inside of the cage.

Turning frantically around to look at what you hit, the doors suddenly closed, locking you inside firmly.

"NO!" You yelled, banging your fists over and over against the glass. "I TRUSTED YOU!"

Dennis felt tears begin to form as he watched your form. Your aggression slowly turned to sobs as you dropped to your knees, clutching your gown. "I trusted you" You whispered, far breathier and more exhausted than he had ever heard in his life. Finally looking down at the glass floor beneath you, you cried softly.

"I guess we won't be needing this after all" Cyrus lifted an old worn letter between his fingers.

"What is that exactly?"

"I was going to use it as a trigger object to lure her out. Took it from that abandoned house over on Old Mill rd. Can you believe they sent a letter to inform her of her husband's death in the war?" He had the audacity to laugh as if the story was an old joke between friends. "Didn't have the decency to do it in person, I guess. How pathetic he must've been"

Your eyes darkened at that comment, a moment of anger settling deep between your bones. How could someone be so heartless?

A/N- Now I know damn well this won't see the light of day for many people but that doesn't lessen my love for this movie at all. It has a special place in my heart. Again, please do not take the warnings at the beginning lightly. I know that S*icide is a serious trigger and I don't want to offend anyone in any way. I care about each and every single one of you very deeply.

If by some way this does get a bit of attention, I am very willing to do a part 2 where the reader is brought back to the mansion.

Also, yes, I am working on the other Fics, this one just plagued my dreams in the dead of night, and I had to write it

Taglist- @zeroisreallygood @mirage018

Credit:

Black drip Divider - @saradika

Green forest divider- @firefly-graphics

Header- Me

[ckret2]

Time for chapter 7 of "Human Bill Attempts To Murder The Pines And Ends Up Their Prisoner/Involuntary House Guest," which will eventually get a title, I'm sure.

Featuring an explanatory flashback on how the hell Bill made it from reincarnation to an attempted murder at the Mystery Shack; his first full day as the shack's prisoner; and angst.

The masterpost for the full fic is available here! Chapter edited 9/23/2024 for TBOB compatibility!

The first thing the reincarnated Bill Cipher's new ears heard was a crack of thunder.

And then he felt the damp soil beneath him and the chill air above him, the position of his limbs, smelled the green forest life.

He was alive, he was... he inspected his teeth with his tongue (ooh, wisdom teeth)—he was an adult human, and he had his memories. It worked. His head felt clear, freed of the constant antipsychotic drug fog. He was still Bill Cipher. He could pick up where he left off.

Just as soon as he oriented himself.

It took a moment to remember how to peel open his two new eyeballs. He was half-laying half-sitting in a freshly dug hole too small for his whole body, limbs splayed out over the dirt. Had the Theraprism's reincarnation machine spontaneously generated his new body straight from dirt? How Pandoran.

He was in the center of a tiny clearing, surrounded on all sides by a ring of evergreen trees but with a view of the cold, clear sky above. His brain registered it as a hazy something-blueish—the color Earth's sky usually appeared when he was looking through human eyes. And that meant one thing:

Whenever and wherever he was, it wasn't Weirdmageddon.

No way had that dumb reincarnation machine actually accounted for Earth's uneven weirdness to randomize when and where he landed. It would ruin everything if it had! 

He climbed unsteadily to his feet, searching the area for any identifiable features.

Through the trees, in the distance, he saw the cliffs that the Trilazzx Betians had flown their ship through. Okay! Great! Just as he'd hoped, Gravity Falls's Weirdness Attractor Zone had drawn in an ancient reincarnating alien soul like a flame drawing in a moth. He was exactly where he wanted to be. 

He just wasn't when he wanted to be. Why hadn't he landed during Weirdmageddon? What moment in all of Earth's history could possibly be weirder?

The stone bridge over the hole left by the main body of the ship had collapsed, and human train tracks bridged the gap. That left a pretty narrow window he could have landed in, a little over 200 years around Weirdmageddon.

Maybe Weirdmageddon was too weird to hit. Bill had killed time itself. Maybe rather than falling into the weirdness barrier surrounding the town, he'd slingshotted around it like light around a weirdness black hole's event horizon and been flung somewhere else on the timeline. Did the barrier work like that? He wasn't sure, he'd have to ask—

No. Bill wasn't asking him. This time, he'd figure out how to bring down the barrier himself.

But if Bill was in Gravity Falls, there was a chance his backstabbing pawn was currently here, too. And if so, that meant he could personally show him just what happened to people who crossed Bill Cipher. Maybe he'd strangle him with his bare hands, just so he could look in his horrified eyes as the life left them—

His fingernails dug into his fleshy palms as he imagined wrapping his hands around Ford's throat. This body would never do, though; he'd have to shed it. If he were post-Weirdmageddon, his corpse had to be somewhere in the area; he could repossess it and pick up where he left off. If he were pre-Weirdmageddon, he wouldn't be able to obtain physical form, but he could just return to the Nightmare Realm and redo Weirdmageddon in a few years, no loss...

He shut the body's eyes and focused on degloving the expendable corpse from the immortal energy being within.

And nothing happened.

He tried again to peel off the body. Nothing. Trying to leave his body felt like sticking a car key in a plastic toddler car: not only did it fail to start the engine, but there wasn't an engine there to start.

Had the reincarnation process altered his soul? Was he no longer a triangle?! Had he been reshaped into a human spirit to match his body, was he gone, had Bill lost himself—?

He didn't realize until he broke skin that he'd started trying to claw his skin off. He forced himself to stop.

But no, that didn't make any sense. Humans could astral project their souls from their bodies. He'd personally taught humans how to do it, so he knew the process. Even if his soul was human, he should have been able to escape this body. So something else was keeping him in. 

But what? Some magic? Something stitching his soul into this body?

The horror ripped raw all his fears, his doubts, his denials; for a moment, he couldn't lie to himself about his situation. So here was the truth:

During the entirety of timeless captivity, he had told himself that the rest of himself, his full self, with all his energy and all his power, had been locked outside the Theraprism; while only the little triangular avatar he used to interact with the world—his anglerfish's lure—was pinched inside, pinched tightly enough that the rest of his power couldn't flow in and could only thrash impotently outside.

But the truth was, he didn't know that. He hoped that, but he didn't know.

The truth was, he hadn't been able to feel his power since the Axolotl dropped him in the Theraprism. The truth was, he wasn't sure if he'd even felt them at all since the moment Stanley's mind began to burn.

It was true that Bill's little triangular avatar was just the little glowing lure dangling from the vast, vast anglerfish of his powers. It was true that Bill's power was contained externally. It was true that he'd been told clearly during admission to the Theraprism that he wouldn't have access to his power.

But he didn't know whether his power was sealed off—like squeezing the walls of a straw shut so no liquid could be sucked through it—or if he'd been cut off from it, like beheading a dragon.

He couldn't feel any of the metaphorical psychic "muscles" he typically used to climb in and out of puppets—as though they'd been amputated. He couldn't feel most of his powers. Why?

Was it because they'd been sealed off at his admittance to the Theraprism and he'd skipped a step during reincarnation that would have unsealed them?

Or because the Theraprism's reincarnation machine, as a therapeutic tool, was designed to prevent recovering patients from fleeing their bodies before they'd finished fully reintegrating into mortal society?

Because he couldn't reach the Nightmare Realm from here?

Because all his power had been destroyed?

Because the reincarnation had truly, irreversibly turned his soul human?

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried, at least, to feel the shape of the energy trapped inside the matter. Was he still a triangle? Or had he been remade human?

He couldn't feel anything. Just blackness and numbness and silence and cold. The space beneath his skin may as well have been a hollow void.

He didn't realize until the blood trickled down his wrists that he'd started clawing his skin again. He stuck his fingers in his mouth to prevent them from clawing again.

When his head bent forward, he spied a mass of golden yellow filaments dangling from the top of his head. Several internal organs automatically convulsed and spasmed at the sight; white lights and awful gory memories and the cold silent suffocating void and the room he'd died in flashed by his mind's eye; he accidentally bit down on his fingers and felt the flesh on the inside of his throat struggle to thrash around; he had to yank them out and seal a rubbery hand over his mouth to keep from regurgitating whatever was inside him. He closed his eyes to hide the awful filaments dangling down from his scalp but now he couldn't stop feeling them brush against his cheeks and shoulders and all he saw was the dark, the endless dark—

He was dizzy. He dropped to his knees, dug his fingers into the soft earth, and tried to remember how to breathe. For a long moment he was paralyzed in place, heavy breaths whistling through his ridiculous little nose tubes, mentally battling his own body's attempt to revolt against him in his moment of weakness.

Somebody would die for this. The Pines family, the zodiac, that backstabbing Axolotl, D-SM5 and all its condescending cronies, the Henchmaniacs who'd abandoned him to the Theraprism, the whole Earth, the whole universe—everyone who'd been responsible for Bill ending up like this. He'd kill and kill and kill until he stopped feeling like he'd been buried alive in hell.

His eyes burned, but he didn't cry.

####

There was a rustling behind him and a human grunt. He turned—and saw, behind him, the beforeimage of a fight a few seconds in the future: a short wide-hipped human female with curly gold hair and a tall narrow human male with straight black hair. There were both naked. Why were a couple of naked humans about to fight in front of him?

Wait—he grasped for a handful of the sickening yellow filaments peeling out of his flesh and pulled it into his peripheral vision. Curly gold. Oh, that was him fighting in the future. He shuddered and let go of the hair. So why was he about to fight a human?

He could figure that out later; he studied the near-future battle in the space in front of him, the blurry moments with several possible outcomes, squinting at the possible futures where he won to see how he did it. He seemed to win in most timelines. Opponent was pretty clumsy—

Even though Bill could see exactly when the human would stumble out from between the trees, the moment still arrived sooner than he would have liked. The human glared down at Bill, panting and sweating in the chill air; and then he asked, suspiciously, "Bill Cipher?" What?

But of course, the human hadn't actually said "Bill Cipher." That's just a convenient translation for a word that can't be rendered in any human orthography. Bill Cipher was one of several names Bill used on Earth, a couple of human words Bill gave to humans as his name because they could pronounce it; he handed out different names to different species. The name this human had said, although heavily accented, was still recognizable as one of the names Bill used in—

—the Theraprism.

His rib cage twitched as he laughed—a high, hissing titter, the first time he'd used this body's voice. "Heyyy, were you one of the guards? Did you get too close to the altar when—"

"You," the guard snarled. "You've gone too far this time. I'm taking you down, Cipher." He charged toward Bill, fist raised.

And Bill just grinned. He had a lot more experience being human than this joker did—and he knew all their weak spots. He'd already seen how this ended.

He let the guard get close enough to begin swinging his fist—then kneed him right in the human design flaw, rammed his head through the guard's nose, and knocked him on his back. The guard was out cold before he hit the ground. Bill stood on his throat until he was sure the guard was never getting up again. He could feel his lungs expanding and contracting and his blood pulsing through his neck; he could feel the adrenaline in his hands and brain like a drug.

He laughed.

It turned out he only needed to kill one person to stop feeling like he'd been buried alive in hell. Now he just felt like he was partially submerged in heck.

Bill was great! Everything was fine! He totally hadn't had a panic attack within five minutes of reincarnation, he definitely knew how to breathe, and he felt fantastic. In fact, he didn't mind being trapped inside a human body at all. It was funny! So, so funny! Funny little prank reality had played on him.

See? He was a good sport. He was the best sport.

Well, he'd get reality back.

####

As he walked in the direction of town, he took stock of his current body and what he could do with it.

He still had his first most important power—the one that even the Theraprism hadn't been able to take away without keeping him drugged out of his mind: his all-seeing eye.

He'd been born with a strange eye that let him see into one higher dimension than everyone else. From the second dimension, he'd been able to see into the third dimension: the starlight and sunbeams shining down on his world. From the third dimension, he could see into the fourth: the past and future superimposed onto the present like transparent ghosts showing him where everyone had been and would be, blurry around the moments where he saw multiple possible futures.

He looked at the sun. At full power, Bill could see days into the future and past—multiple white streaks across the sky tracing the sun's path as it rose and set—and further with a basic telescope; but now, based on the short streak of white light he saw before it trailed off into the blue, he suspected he could only see about fifteen minutes into the future and past if he squinted. And he couldn't see the brilliant ring of extraturquoise that should have haloed the sun. Human color vision was an embarrassment.

In the second dimension, his all-seeing eye had also been able to see through objects—or, rather, over objects, bent up slightly into the third dimension so it could look down upon the flat world. When he tried to bend an eye up into the fourth dimension, he could see through the nearby trees, but it felt like his eyelids were trying to pop his eyeball like a pimple. His eye hadn't started bleeding immediately, so it was easier than trying to peer into the fourth dimension with a puppet's eyes, but not by much. He'd have to use that sparingly. And he'd better not risk attempting pyrokinesis unless the fire was more important than his eyeball.

And finally, for the first time, he turned his full attention to his new prison. He'd gotten a glimpse of it when he'd been watching his future actions, enough to tell it wasn't bad looking for a human. Pretty triangular body shape. Neck was too narrow, though—he hated how goofy human necks looked.

Four limbs with five mini-limbs each, it was nice to have ten fingers again but he didn't see any interesting mutations or deformities, yawn. He'd hoped he might mutate fractal phalanges. And on top of looking disgusting, human skin came in such boring neutral tones; he'd have to redecorate. He flexed his finger joints experimentally, imagining his hand encased in gold rings and bangles. Maybe he could stab some graffiti into his dermis, too. He could live with that until he found his way back to his real body.

Aside from the expected patches of lighter and darker melanin, there was no variation in his skin tone except for a band of slate grey splotches stretching from his left shoulder down to his right hip. They looked like two-day-old bruises, the hemoglobin dull and blackish-blue—but why would an hour-old body be created with a two-day-old bruise?

It took a moment of inspection to recognize that the "bruises" were birth marks, and they took the same path across his torso as the fatal crack that had split his exoskeleton in half. Ugh. Moving on.

He hopped on one foot at a time to inspect the bottoms (and tripped and tumbled into the dirt twice in the process). All 20 toeprints and fingerprints were, unexpectedly, still triangular—Bill wondered if the Theraprism did that on purpose to make reincarnations easier to track—head line like a river, absolutely hideous heart line.

Skin was reasonably elastic. So-so melanoma resistance. Healthy-looking cellulite pattern. How was his design flaw looking?

While in the middle of trying to contort himself like a cat licking its butthole, from the corner of one of his eyeballs, Bill saw two time cops emerging from the trees and heading his way several minutes before they would arrive. Of all the rotten luck— He contemplated running, considered how far he'd get in a fresh, uncalloused, nude body before a sharp rock or broken branch ripped his bare feet open—he'd already had to slow down and adjust his footsteps to be more tentative just from walking toward town—and instead he to hide behind a cluster of trees.

As the officers drew closer to the moment Bill saw them pass his spot, he heard one say: "Would you put that stupid thing away and focus? We're suppose to be on the lookout for Cipher."

Bill's heart leaped into his throat. (He was pretty sure it wasn't actually his heart, but it sure felt like that. Huh. That's one baffling English idiom explained.) They'd found him already? How? Maybe it wasn't too late to run—

"But this is stupid," another voice grumbled. "The energy signal from Cipher's resurrection is already fading, he's got to be long gone by now! Assuming the signal wasn't just an instrument error caused by the dumb ship under town!"

"There's no way it was an instrument error."

"If Time Baby really thought he'd still be here, he'd have sent more than a handful of us! This is worse than hover car crosswalk duty—"

"Look," the first officer snapped, "the tantrum Time Baby threw after the Theraprism notified him that Cipher's at large and probably headed back toward Earth is the worst I've ever seen. Think about the lives lost, man! The cities leveled! How much angrier will he be if no one finds him—"

"I know, I know—"

"—and Time Intelligence is sure that if he's coming back to Earth, it will be here! Need I remind you we've got officers swarming Roadkill County for six months in both directions from Weirdmageddon, and checking the site yearly for the first century in either direction, centennially for the first millennium, millennially anniversary for the first—"

"—I know, I know—"

"—as well as checking out every suspicious energy reading on the whole timeline! I don't know about you, but I do not want to be transferred from 'check out suspicious energy reading' duty to 'six-month stakeout' duty! But if we return to Time Baby with nothing—"

"But what if there is nothing?! Think about it—if Cipher were still here, wouldn't he be, you know, conquering the world?"

(Oh, he wished.)

"It's not our job to make sense of the mind of an escaped alien madman. It's just to find him if he is here—Would you put that away!"

Of course the Theraprism had sent a warning to Time Baby! Time Baby and D-SM5 probably adored each other, pair of dictators that they were.

But: Time Baby and his goons didn't actually know Bill was here. He could still take them by surprise.

And that gave him an idea.

Bill peeked around the trees. The cops were so close to the moment they would emerge from the trees and pass Bill's hiding spot that he could see the irritation on one's face and the handheld game console in the other's hands; and he was also beginning to see the fuzzy shape of his own future self approaching them as a plan formed in his head. He hid again. Only one shot at this. Would a human think he looked harmless and vulnerable? Those uniformed slabs of muscle were two feet taller than him, and he was naked. Check and check.

He waited until they turned the corner, then stepped out from behind the rubble pile, waving. "Oh, thank goodness, the police!" Probably the first and last time he was ever saying that. "I'm terrified confused, and can't seem to find my clothes. Can you he—" He tripped on a root, yelped, and had to grab the officers for balance. "... help." Okay. That was good. Extra harmless-looking. He meant to do that. But he made a mental note to spend a few more minutes on walking practice once he got away.

Grumpy Officer was looking toward the sky. "Oh." Gamer Officer was hiding his face behind his game console. "Oh dear." Grumpy Officer cleared his throat and said, "Of—of course. We're happy to help, Miss...?"

Heck. Think of a human name fast. "Tomato."

Gamer Officer said, "What seems to be the problem, Ms. Tomato?"

Now think of a story. "I... I witnessed a murder!" He pointed back the direction he'd come from. "It's just that way! Hurry!"

Grumpy Officer said, "That's the direction of the signal from Cipher's resurrection! Show us!"

As Bill led them back toward the guard's body, Gamer Officer asked, "Do—do you need some clothing, ma'am?" He patted down his jumpsuit and found no removable clothes.

"It's fine, it's not that cold."

"Did you... lose your clothing during the murder?" Grumpy Officer asked.

"Yep! Sure did!"

"How?"

That was a good question. "I'm not sure, it's all such a blur!"

As they emerged into the small clearing, they stopped dead at the sight of the body. Gamer Officer took one look at its face, turned away, and covered his mouth. Grumpy Officer knelt by it, careful not to touch it as he examined the damage. "He's definitely dead. This doesn't look like Cipher's usual work, though."

Trying to shield his eyes from the body, Gamer Officer asked, "Did you see what did this?"

Did he want to confirm to Time Baby's agents that Bill Cipher had been in the area? Probably not—last thing he needed was more Time Police. "I'm not sure! It could have been a bear."

"Hmm." Grumpy Officer rubbed his chin. "Well—we'll get you to the contemporary authorities, ma'am. This looks like a case for them." 

"You go," Gamer Officer said, voice strained. He pulled his time tape off his belt. "I'll report this to HQ."

"Good idea." Grumpy Officer paused. "Hold on. We don't look like contemporary authorities. How did you know we're cops?"

Both officers were desperately avoiding looking directly at Bill's naked body, one was kneeling by the corpse, the other was turned toward the woods and had his time tape extended inches in front of Bill—now. Bill flung his whole weight on Gamer Officer's arm to wrench the tape away from him, kicked Grumpy Officer's butt to knock him sprawling over the corpse, pulled out a random length of time tape, and snapped out of the year before the officers could registered what happened.

####

The first jump was just to escape. He popped open the time tape with his teeth and a sharp rock and packed it with dirt—it'd probably kill the tape after a jump or two but it would block Time Baby from being able to detect it, which was more important. The second jump took him to a ruined battlefield in the middle of the Time Baby War—Bill knew his human history—where Bill could dump this cheap police time tape riddled with temporal tracking technology and scavenge a military tape off a fallen rebel soldier. Rest in peace, brave rebel—Bill really wished they'd won the war against Time Baby. Maybe he could fix that for them once he was in charge.

By the time he found a tape in good condition, his abdomen, eyes, and head had developed an assortment of overlapping aches. Nothing he couldn't ignore. But it was worth the effort: the rebel military tape was less prone to overheating, more lax on permitting temporal doubles and time loops, and built to hide from Time Baby and his forces with paradox-cloaking stealth tech. Even if the time cops followed him this far, they'd never know where he went next.

He was continuing where he'd left off.

He'd love to return to the moment he died and murder the Pines on the spot—or, better yet, warn himself ten minutes before it happened. But even the best time tape would struggle to target a temporal paradox as complicated as Weirdmageddon—and if his reincarnation had taught him anything, it was that Weirdmageddon clearly sent travelers aimed toward it astray. The pigs had said Time Baby had them patrolling Gravity Falls for six months in either direction of Weirdmageddon; Bill could return to Gravity Falls before then, start the portal up earlier than Stanley managed to, invite himself through and give himself a few warnings about what to watch out for from the humans...

But that wasn't good enough.

Time moved wrong in the Theraprism. He felt like he'd experienced millennia surrounded by its grey tiles and fluorescent lights; but he also felt like time hadn't passed since his death.

His death was as fresh in his mind as if it had been an hour ago.

And the Pines family would pay for it.

First, he'd murder the Pines and anyone else in their stupid shack. He'd decide what to do next from there. Maybe he would jump a few years into the past and start Weirdmageddon early.

Or maybe he'd just continue where he'd left off. He'd find his corpse—he knew it was somewhere out in the woods—and keep it safe in the shack. He'd dig up the treasure Pine Tree and Shooting Star had buried during the summer and liquidate some of the gold. He'd fast-forward until the murder investigation was over and the shack was back on the market, buy it himself, repair the portal, and then, he'd shake his corpse's hand. He'd restart Weirdmageddon in his enemies' own home, wearing his true form—and as soon as that portal opened up, all his power would come rushing back to him from the Nightmare Realm. Maybe not the most efficient plan...

But so satisfying.

He could figure out how to pop the stupid weirdness barrier around the town as he went. Minor details. For now, all he cared about was killing the two-faced twins who'd dared try to stop him.

And he couldn't wait to see the look in Stanford's eyes.

He set his time tape for February 25, 2013—six months and a day after Weirdmageddon.

####

He appeared in a suburban backyard, snatched a bedsheet drying on a clothesline and a couple safety pins from a nearby laundry basket, and made himself a chiton.

Bill Cipher had billions upon billions of eyes on Earth. There were a million in Gravity Falls alone—stuffed into wallets, peering out of grocery store shelves, nestled into book pages, growing on the trees. He shut his flesh eyes to peer through the others, looking for his corpse...

And saw nothing. When he shut his eyes, his vision went completely black. That had never happened before.

It looked like the solitary dullness void.

He shivered and opened his eyes. He could find his body later. He didn't need it! He had his memory, he had his identity, and he had his all-seeing eye. Eyes. Once upon a time that was all he'd needed to liberate a dimension; and it was all he'd need now to liberate himself.

Provided he also had a portal. And that meant he needed to murder some enemies.

He headed for the Mystery Shack.

####

In retrospect, he probably should have planned the murders a little more thoroughly.

####

June 2, 2013

Bill was locked back in the cellar until the humans could Bill-proof the house—cutlery moved out of the kitchen, phones relocated where he couldn't reach them, dangerous chemicals locked away, etc. His cuffs and restraints were removed, he was handed a few granola bars and water bottles and awkwardly gifted a bucket that he received with an expression that suggested he wasn't quite sure what the humans expected him to use it for, and he was locked in.

And at last, everyone could get some sleep.

It was past five in the morning when Dipper and Mabel collapsed back in their beds. With time travel thrown in, they had been up for thirty hours with only an hour or two of napping. And yet, for all their exhaustion, when the first hint of morning grayness lightened the sky outside, both of them were still awake, staring at dust motes and the old wooden ceiling beams.

Mabel sighed heavily.

Dipper said, "You too?"

"Yeah. I guess it's the chocolate shake and pancakes. What's your excuse?"

"Bill ordered coffee for the table, and nobody told me I couldn't have it, so..."

Mabel laughed. "Evil chaos demon got you! You fell for his trap!"

"Oh nooo."

Neither of them needed to admit that it wasn't the caffeine keeping them awake.

"Hold on." Mabel got out of bed, scooted around Waddles—he took up more of the floor than he had last year—and trudged to her suitcase. She tossed half her clothes on the floor, and pulled out—

Dipper laughed weakly. "You brought those?"

"I thought we might need them. You know—being back here, reminded of everything."

Almost as soon as they'd gotten home last summer, Mabel had started knitting throw blankets depicting the anti-Bill zodiac that Ford had drawn. She gave the first to Dipper as his bar mitzvah gift. She kept the second herself. She mailed the other eight to the other members of the zodiac. (The family therapist their parents had started taking them to said self-expression through art was a great way to cope with difficult experiences.)

Ford had told them the zodiac drawing merely represented a list of people, like a chart with table seating arrangements. They knew the symbol itself didn't do anything. It held no magic, it couldn't protect them. Nevertheless, sleeping under his blanket had done more for Dipper's Bipper nightmares than any dream catcher ever could. Mabel thought wrapping up in it felt like a hug from their friends in Gravity Falls.

She handed Dipper his red blanket with the zodiac embroidered in dark green yarn, and pulled out her own rainbow blanket with black embroidery. Mabel wrapped hers around her head and shoulders like a huge hooded shawl and slid back in bed, her mind and dreams now properly shielded. Dipper stared at the face in the middle of the zodiac for a long moment, before he turned the blanket over so Bill's ever-watching eye could only see the dark surface of Dipper's bedsheet.

And then, at long last, they were safe enough to fall asleep.

####

"So then he said—" Bill put on his best impression of Stan's voice, "'Do you expect us to baby-proof the whole shack in five minutes? No! You're going in the cellar!'" It was actually a very good impression. "And now I've been here for hours. If they think they can trick me into staying down here..." A pinball fell between Bill's flipper bats. He sighed and launched another ball.

"It's downright disrespectful, is what it is," the cowboy skull in the pinball machine said. "Sounds like you've had a rough night, pardner."

"You don't know the half of it." Bill lost another ball in the gutter. "Gimme another three."

"That's supposed to be Game Over."

"Come on, I'm having a bad day. Just a friendly match! Look at my reflexes in this body, you and I both know I'm not high score material."

"Okay, okay. Here."

Ford cracked open the cellar door, flung a wad of fabric down the stairs, and shut the door again. "All right," Stan shouted through the door. "No tourists are around. Solitary confinement's over. Put on some normal clothes and knock when you're done."

"It's about time." Bill lost another ball between the flipper bats. "Sorry, 'partner.' Looks like we'll have to finish this game another time."

Stan, Ford, and Soos automatically took a few steps back as creaks and thuds drifted through the door from Bill climbing up the stairs, as though he were a monster they expected to break through the wood and attack them. He shouted, "Hey, how long does it really take to move a few knives to another room, anyway? I was starting to think you planned to leave me down here."

"We needed sleep! We were up all night!"

"How is that my problem? I never told you to sit up all night staring at me—"

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth grousing, Bill knocked on the cellar door to be unleashed. The shack household had scrounged together an XL yellow-beige pine tree t-shirt (surplus from the gift shop), a set of Soos's winter sweatpants (which Bill found too long and set aside), an elastic-waisted plain green skirt in case the sweats didn't fit (some old thing Abuelita never wore), a pair of old swim trunks (to compensate for the fact that nobody had the energy or motivation to go buy their prisoner underwear today), and mismatched flip-flops (from the Mystery Shack's lost-and-found).

The shack household had not scrounged together a broom to give to Bill, and yet when they opened the door, he was holding one, bristles pointed up, like a poorly-dressed witch waiting to go on an evening flight. The potential weapon was promptly confiscated, and Stan, Ford, and Soos escorted Bill around to the back of the shack. He stared out toward the woods as the door was opened for him, but it was impossible to tell whether he was looking for something specific or just getting one last glimpse of the sky before he was incarcerated indefinitely.

The moment Bill stepped inside, Abuelita was in front of him, shoving a hot plate of chicken and enchiladas in his chest. "Welcome. You are staying with us for a while, yes?"

Bill tried to take a step back, bumped into Soos, and automatically took the plate in both hands. He blinked at Abuelita, eyebrows raised in polite bafflement. "Yes?"

"Yes. Soos told me. You missed dinner." There was loose plastic wrap still half-covering the plate, which had been labeled in black marker: para Bill Cifra - NO TOCAR! "I saved you a plate."

"Oh yeah," Soos said, "Abuelita put that in the fridge for you before we ate last night. She's big on hospitality." 

"Well!" Bill beamed. "At least you have some manners—unlike some people around here who apparently don't care if I miss dinner." He shot a sly look at Ford. "Say, didn't I tell you never to call me—"

"Watch it," Ford said warningly. Stan gave him a baffled look.

Bill chuckled. "So! Does this come with silverware, or—?"

"Here." Abuelita offered him a plastic orange baby spoon. "Soos says you do not get the good silverware. So you cannot kill people."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the routine." He tossed the plastic wrap on the floor and attempted to saw off a chunk of enchilada with the soft edge of the spoon. "Between you and me, I'd be more likely to stick a fork in the microwave than try to kill someone with it—but hey, I'm not the warden."

"You threatened to stab me with a fork this morning," Ford said.

"Nooo, I told you why I wasn't going to stab you with a fork. That's the opposite of a threat," Bill said. (Ford exchanged a sideways glance with Stan, who rolled his eyes.) "Anyway, show me what you've done with this place since I last saw it!" He wove past the humans to duck into the kitchen. "I see you finally got rid of that second stove! Really frees up the space in here, doesn't it! Too bad you kept the gas one. I didn't wanna say anything about this last year, but fix that slow gas leak, would you? If you want to get haunted by carbon monoxide demons, that's your business, but I owe a tokoloshe money."

Stan blinked. "The slow what?"

Ignoring them, Bill went on, "You're gonna have to do something about all this." He waved his baby spoon at the fridge and cabinet doors. "You don't want me to come ask for help every single time I need to eat."

"Actually, that might be preferable," Ford said. "It would ensure you can't tamper with our food when we aren't looking."

"You'll get sick of it," Bill said confidently.

He finally freed up a spoonful of enchilada, stuffed it in his mouth, and tore off a chunk of chicken with his teeth—and then stopped, staring down at the plate in amazement. With his mouth still full, Bill said, "Oh wow, this is delicious! You know, I haven't had a home cooked meal in centuries! And that nutty aftertaste? Mm! You're a daring chef, lady. I love it."

He spat his mouthful back onto the plate. "But unfortunately, I think I'm allergic to one of your ingredients!" He held the plate out to Abuelita, grinning widely. "Would you mind giving me a portion with less cyanide?"

Everyone stared at Abuelita.

She shrugged placidly. "It was worth a try." She took back the plate.

Bill licked the last of the poisoned food off his teeth and spat it on the kitchen floor. "Mil gracias, señorita Silloncito."

She gave the floor a displeased look as she passed to wash off the dish in the sink, but merely said, "Un placer." She gave Bill another dirty look as he shoved in front of her to wash his hands in the sink before she could get started on the plate.

Dubiously, Ford murmured, "Silloncito isn't Mrs. Ramirez's first name, is it?"

"Nope." Stan grinned. "While you were busy studying the Odyssey, I was in South America learning Spanish—you know, a language people actually speak."

"What does 'silloncito' mean?"

"I dunno."

Soos had been gaping at his grandmother since Bill said the word "cyanide." He finally managed to work his jaw enough to say, "Abuelita, what...?"

"Do not worry about it, mijo," Abuelita said sweetly, pulling out a mop.

"Did you just try to...?"

"We can talk later." Abuelita gestured to the door, where Bill was meandering out of the kitchen. "I'll clean now. You go with the others."

As Bill left, he called back, "Next time, I'm making my own plate! Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice..." He swept past the humans into the living room. "Hey, you finally got enough seating in here! This place is really starting to shed that 'lonely old bachelor' stench—ey, Stanley?"

"Watch it."

Where Stan's old recliner once sat, Abuelita had put her sofa with the pastel yellow floral print. Her blue armchair and Stan's recliner were lined up at a right angle to the sofa to form a seating area around the TV, which had been turned to face all the seats. Atop the decorative T-Rex skull sat a small vase with a few fresh flowers.

Soos dragged his distracted gaze away from the kitchen to point at the floral sofa. "You, uh... you can sleep on the sofa bed. It folds out. We're kind of out of other rooms. I'm in the master bedroom, Abuelita's in the study cuz she gets her own bathroom there and doesn't have to use the stairs, we made the parlor a guest room for the Pineses, the kids are in the attic... and that's pretty much all the bedrooms we've got, dude." Soos shrugged. "Me and Melody, we were talking about walling off the empty attic area to make a sick gaming room? I guess maybe we should think about making it another guest room instead—"

"Which Bill wouldn't be able to use," Ford said, "if it has a door. Besides, I doubt Bill will be here long enough for you to finish any large construction projects."

Airily, Bill said, "Think you'll figure out how to get rid of me that fast?" He didn't even look at Ford; he was busy taking off the sofa's cushions to inspect the foldout bed underneath. "Last time you tried it took you thirty years, and you're 0 for 4 murder attempts so far." Bill tried, unsuccessfully, to lift the folding bed out of the sofa. "Not—counting—all the times—" he grunted with exertion, "—you failed to burn my book."

Voice icy, Ford went on without acknowledging Bill. "And at any rate, I'd rather have him out in the open where we can all keep an eye on him."

Soos glanced back and forth between Ford and Bill as they shot verbal barbs at each other, his fingertips pressed together. "Oookay! So. Sofa bed it is. I like sofa beds! It feels kind of like camping, but without going outside."

"Bet I'm not allowed to start a campfire in the living room." Bill gave up on the sofa bed and looked around the room—and his face lit up like a child who'd just received a pirate ship-shaped birthday cake. "Hey! Is that me?" In his rush to cross the living room, he tripped over Abuelita's blue armchair, flopped flat on the floor, and got back up like nothing happened.

Where Ford had once hung his father's banner from the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, Soos had put up a new decoration: a knit tapestry depicting Bill Cipher, framed in apocalyptic lightning and hovering over a sea of fire...

... and encircled by the Ten Cosmic Symbols of the zodiac prophesied to witness his defeat.

Bill's smile dimmed. "Ah."

"Oh, hey! That's the blanket Mabel made me." Soos stood next to Bill, admiring the zodiac blanket. "Yeah, she made us all blankets to commemorate our epic battle and everything? She called us up to ask how we wanted them customized and stuff. I suggested the flames and the lightning bolts! Thought they'd look rad. Heh. It's—it's pretty cool, right?"

Bill's gaze slowly traced the confining ring of symbols; and then met the gaze of his own, true, proper face. And he turned away to face Soos and forced his smile wider. "Question Mark, I like your sense of decor." 

"Ha—wait, seriously?"

"Heck, if I'd commissioned a portrait myself, I'd have requested the same! Remind me to show you some tapestries the Northwests have been keeping of me, I think you'd appreciate them!"

"Oh." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "Huh. You know, I didn't think you'd think cool things are cool. Kinda."

"You kidding?! Fire and lightning! I love it! Like a party with natural pyrotechnics! It's nature's way of trying to unleash a bit of anarchy on an otherwise disappointing little world!"

"Uh..." Soos quickly glanced toward the Pines in a silent plea for help with this conversation, then looked back at Bill. "Yeah, totally dude! It's like... got that boom factor, you know?"

"Boom factor! Ha! You're all right, Questiony." Bill turned his back on the zodiac and swept across the room again. "So! What have you done with the rest of this dump!"

Soos stood rooted to the spot until Bill left the room.

He looked at Stan and Ford. "Do you think Bill, like... knows my name?"

Ford shrugged and made a so-so gesture.

Soos nodded. "Okay." He pulled out a chair at the living room table. "You guys wanna go ahead without me? I think I'm gonna... sit here. And process the fact that Abuelita is an attempted murderer."

As they followed Bill, Stan lowered his voice and asked Ford, "So, uh—what was with that thing about Bill telling you not to call him something?"

"Oh." Ford grimaced. "When we first met, and Bill had me convinced he was some muse of knowledge," (Stan snorted) "I asked if it was alright to just call him Bill. It... seemed too informal for a god." (Stan snorted again.) "Stop that." Ford spoke with great displeasure, as though he were repeating a particularly distasteful joke: "He said I could call him anything but don't call him late for dinner."

"Ah." And that was all they had time to say before they caught up with Bill, Ford had to rebury his memories of the years he'd thought Bill was his friend, and Stan had to force himself to stop wondering about them. It seemed inappropriate to think about Bill making friendly jokes.

####

On Bill's first proper night in the Mystery Shack, he woke in the middle of the night, gasping for air so loudly it sounded like a reverse scream.

Waking didn't improve things.

He was back in the room where he'd died, no light but the eerie blue of invisible flames licking up the walls, his vision framed by golden filaments spilling out of his head. He rolled over and heaved on the floor—and between his stomach's convulsions he made direct eye contact with an axolotl, cold, serene, staring dispassionately at him from an illuminated fish tank—and past the axolotl, he saw an image of himself trapped flat on the wall, surrounded by a ring of his enemies, fire lapping at his heels. And it was just like dying again, he was powerless, he could see his body coming apart in his peripheral vision, he couldn't even float, pinned to the ground by gravity—

He had to claw at his skin until this human body's uncomfortable alienness overrode the memory of his gold exoskeleton shattering.

His rebirthmark burned.

The next morning, the household found no signs of Bill in the living room except for a puddle of dried puke.

The sofa bed's mattress had been dragged halfway up the stairs, and then abandoned at the landing where the stairs turned a right angle.

They found Bill in the attic, laying on the floor atop a makeshift bed he'd assembled out of sofa cushions. He was curled up facing the wall beneath the seating alcove where, just a few months ago, there had been a window of his face.

####

(I hope y'all enjoyed!! I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you read the original and are back now to read the edited & updated version, I'd particularly love to hear your thoughts—even setting aside the TBOB edits, I think this new version of Bill's first moments alive is much stronger.

Plus he gets to kill a dude. Good for him.)

[triangle-strategy-notes]

Glenbrook's Crown City Concept Art

Some concept art for Glenbrook's crown city! Translation notes and id under the cut. Here's a link as well to some of the Whiteholm Castle translations I did a while back, since a lot of these pages sort of bleed together subject-wise.

Translation notes:

I couldn't tell exactly what the label on the fish/meat stall was saying. It was definitely "______ shop", but I couldn't make out the characters well enough to say what the first word was. I went with "fish" mostly because of the context of the image beside it.

"Router" appears to be literally the phonemes "Ru Ta", which the dictionary I use translates as "router." However, it could also be interpreted as something more like "Luther" or "Luta". I'm not really sure what the intention here was. Maybe "router" is being used as a synonym for "hub"? Or "Luther" was an early name for the city? I left it as router but there's probably a better translation.

ID:

[image id: Several pieces of art from the Triangle Strategy artbook, primarily of Glenbrook's crown city. The first image is of a distant overhead view of Whiteholm Castle, Whiteholm Bridge, and the main plaza area of the crown city. On the same page, there is an up-close look of the plaza during some sort of festival, with people in the streets. The English translation of the caption for both images reads, "This is a shot of each of Glenbrook's visitable sites. I wanted to include an ordinary medieval European cityscape in one of the three countries, so Glenbrook ended up playing that part. (Tatsuaki Urushibara)". On the next page, there are three images of a street in the city labeled "Normal" (with no decorations), "Ceremony" (with banners and performers), and "After being taken over by Country B" (with a gray sky and a visibly damaged bridge/boats). There are also many labeled objects, such as a statue of an unspecified goddess, a horse drawn cart, a cart of wine, Glenbrook's banner, and some food stalls. There is also a drawing of decorative plates hung on a wall that is shown to turn into swords after the invasion of Country B. The last page is a very distant overhead of the crown city and the castle, showing the flow of the river from the top left to the bottom right, with the castle situated on an island in the middle. There are labels for a floodgate to the top left, a "black market trader" on the northern shore of the river, a moat around the crown city, and fields that surround the city.]

[genshin-scenarios]

Reunion: The End of the Night [Part 7]

Read the first series (Adopt a Wanderer) here! An AU where Scaramouche/Wanderer gets isekaied to your world - a found-family series.

Summary: The last chapter of the sequel is here! Featuring the Lantern Rite, you and Kuni are now traveling around Liyue.

Wordcount: 2758

Part 1

Part 6 <-

Initially, you weren’t sure if Kuni would agree to stay at Wangshu Inn until the both of you stepped out on its highest balcony, and the bustle of people below immediately dissolved into a jaw-dropping view.

No wonder Xiao frequents this place. You can’t imagine any other sight that would soothe the mind such as this. It almost made you a little jealous of those that lived in Teyvat, for being witness to sceneries so beautiful as part of their everyday lives.

Needless to say, you’ve since acquired neighboring single rooms at Wangshu Inn and started to traverse Liyue at your leisure. It was only a week or two before the Lantern Rite, so there were many commissions available to help local businesses prepare for the event. 

Kuni was not as enthusiastic about working as a delivery-person, but at your reminder it’s a two-in-one of exploring and earning mora, he relented. 

You’re actually kind of impressed at how fast he’s able to fly around. Meanwhile, you were simply trying to act natural when meeting people like Xiangling and Hu Tao at the harbor. You knew they lived here, but you really underestimated how fast your heart would beat when faced with characters you’ve only seen on screens!

Kuni likes to make fun of you for that, saying you’ll spontaneously combust at this rate since there were many more recognisable figures that you’d run into - and while it was true, you can’t help but feel a little excited every time. You definitely almost tripped and fell off the stairs when you realized Xiao was on the rooftop one night. But you digress.

Right now however, such things were at the back of your mind as you and Kuni were in the Minlin area - more specifically, to explore Jueyun Karst and the Hanguang Stone Forest, after Verr Goldet asked if you’d be willing to drop off supplies to crafters that frequent there for inspiration.

“Making crafts and weaponry in honor of the adepti is quite common during this season, especially in terms of commissions from high-profile customers. Normally we send our messengers there, but since I noticed one of you has a vision and is quite adept with flying around…”

You’d be getting paid a high sum for this after all. And, well… You did want to get Kuni some qingxin flowers to replace the ones you gave him in Sumeru, seeing as you did say as much with so much confidence before. He says you’re ridiculous for going to such dangerous places when you could just buy some from a shop, but you also wanted to share the tranquil view with him (despite how Kuni said otherwise, you find that his cat-like characteristics extend to lounging on tall vantage points. Perhaps he liked being able to see everything that was going on in this way).

“We should’ve turned this into a picnic.” You muse, tucking your feet carefully under your legs as you look around. Kuni managed to fly you up to one of the more spacious peaks in Hanguang Stone Forest. The weather is nice, and you’re taking a break from deliveries. “I can see myself having quite a nice nap out here.”

“The more you talk, the more I wonder if you’d survive alone.” Kuni’s words hold no malice, but you’re a little surprised that he’s chatting now, seeing as he’d opted to let you do the talking with the craftsmen earlier. “What if you roll over too much and plummet down?”

“Well… you wouldn’t let me die in such a lame way, right?”

“...”

“...Right? Hey—”

“You two up there! Might you be adventurers?” A stranger’s voice echoes from the bridge below, effectively stealing away both of your attention.

“Um, yeah!” You yell back. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“There’s a swordsmith stuck on Mount Hulao! He’s gotten trapped in the amber.” The person holds her head in exasperation. You feel a little bad for the lady; it seems like this isn’t the first time trouble has found this mysterious swordsmith. “If the two of you are able to rescue him, I’ll pay you for your services. Mora is no problem.”

When Kuni meets your gaze, he can only heave out a sigh. “Fine, fine. Let’s get this loser.”

“We’ll do it!” You give the lady a thumbs up. Without a moment to waste, she gives you instructions on the swordsmith’s location once you descend the stone spire.

She marks another spot on your map. “And this is where our lodges are located. Once that idiot is rescued, please return him here. I told him not to rush to the mountains so early in the morning, but he kept insisting he could collect the amber from Mount Hulao as a finishing touch to his creation…”

“No problem, we’ll be back as soon as we can.” You assure her. “Um… may I ask if you’re his co-worker, or…?”

“Oh, I’m a painter.” She raises a hand to her heart, giving you a proper introduction. “My name is Lian. Both me and Yichen were commissioned to create works for this year’s Lantern Rite, as part of a larger collection to be on display at Liyue Harbour.”

“So this sword he’s putting finishing touches to is for that?”

“...Not exactly.” Lian purses her lips. “You can ask him more about it later on, if you wish.”

You manage to find Yichen quite easily, seeing as he’s only made it halfway up the mountain before getting caught by the clever defenses of Mount Hulao. With a bit of brute force, Kuni manages to break the poor guy out of his amber cocoon. 

Thankfully Yichen gives up on the idea of continuing his search for amber - after an hour or so of being stuck inside it, he says it’s lost the original charm he envisioned - and you make it back to their lodges in one piece.

“Why use amber from that place anyways?” Kuni raises a brow. “You could simply buy any jewels you need as part of your budget.”

“It’s not about that,” Yichen explains, “One night, while we were out here to gain inspiration from our surroundings, I fell asleep while sketching decorative designs for the blade. I had a dream of the most beautiful sword, crafted from a gemstone of wonderful, rich origins… but it’s too last minute to order some from the city, where everyone else has already booked out materials.”

“And it doesn’t feel the same to get mass-produced gems.” Lian adds, reading his expression with ease. “You’ve been wanting to leave a sword here as an offering to the adepti, right?”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Well, you made an extra blade. And talk in your sleep.” She shrugs. After handing you the payment for rescuing Yichen, Lian gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Maybe next time you’ll be able to finish it and deliver it to the mountains. There’s no need to rush.”

“By wonderful, rich stones… would noctilucous jade from the Chasm work?” You speak up.

“The Chasm?” Yichen’s gaze lights up. “Have you been there?”

“We passed through it.” Fishing out some samples you took with you from your backpack, you show them to Yichen. “I don’t know if these are enough - we sold the rest on the way to the harbor.” 

The only reason you still had them on-hand was as emergency funds. Who would’ve thought they might be able to contribute to this man’s wish?

Almost in a daze, Yichen’s expression melts into a smile. “Yes… These would work splendidly! What is your price? I can pay a bit over market rates, since these are of a better quality, and—”

“You can do all that after you finish crafting your blade.” Kuni interrupts him. At your surprised look, Kuni tilts his head. “What? It’s already midday. If he wants to deliver that thing soon, he might as well get started.”

“I’ll be sure to return this favor! Please give me a few hours - it shouldn’t take too long for me to shape the jade!”

-

You never would’ve expected yourself to be dazzled by weapons of all things, but the finished product truly was a sight to behold. 

As a sword fashioned for ceremonial purposes rather than an adventurer’s use, its hilt is engraved with small stones of noctilucous jade. The entire edge of the blade is plated with the gemstone as if coated in sky-blue paint, sharpened with masterful precision. You’re not sure how he’s managed such a thing, but it leaves the sword twinkling in a deadly manner. It’d look absolutely stunning under the sunlight.

“And now to test it.” Yichen looks down at the sword in his hands, before bowing his head and offering it to Kuni. “If you would… I’d like you to do the honors.”

“Me?” Kuni looks like he’s about to decline, but hesitates. “Why?”

Yichen straightens, giving Kuni a smile. “Well, aside from the impressive display you put up while rescuing me, the way you observed my workspace when we first arrived gave me the impression you were a little familiar with sword making.” He pauses. “But, you can also call it intuition. Between the four of us, I simply believe you’d wield this sword the best.”

“Hmph. Human reasoning really is nonsensical.”

Something in the air changes as Kuni picks up the sheathed blade, adjusting to its weight and equipping the scabbard so that the sword would rest by his hips. His gaze lowers as if recalling a ritual from long ago, making his way to an open area surrounded by amber trees.

There is no music, but you, Lian, and Yichen all fall silent. The wind picks up, twirling through the air while carrying gold and orange leaves. 

Kuni takes a step forward, his hands shifting with graceful movements. He does not have a fan as one normally would with a sword dance, but in place he conjures anemo to take its form. Teal and ochre swirl around the timeless wanderer, and in the middle of it all is sapphire that unmistakably draws the eye. 

It is blue in the richness of the sky and sea, harnessed into a blade that flirts with the light as Kuni flourishes it, guiding it through the air.

He cuts through the falling leaves, slicing them clean in half. It’s like time has stopped to witness his actions, preserving the fall of orange just a second more.

Suffice to say, Yichen absolutely begs Kuni to follow him up to the mountains to place the offering. (“It wouldn’t be right otherwise!”) The entire group treks up Mount Aocang, which you identified as the safest option for visit.

Lian gives you a painting of Kuni’s sword dance before you leave, along with another drawing of the both of you walking together at the front with a flabbergasted Yichen. Kuni doesn’t say much about this outwardly, but you notice the way he keeps an eye on where you keep it - safely tucked within your backpack.

“After the death of Rex Lapis, the adepti showed up at Liyue Harbour during a time of great need.

“They’ve since retreated to their abodes, but I just wanted to leave something as a sign of gratitude. Liyue Harbour is my home, after all. I’ll always thank those that help protect it - and to the two of you, for helping me accomplish this much.

“If you two ever need help while in the city, feel free to look for us. We’ll do what we can!”

- 

On the day of the Lantern Rite celebration, where the giant mingxiao lantern would come to life and soar above the harbor at night - you find yourself wandering through the city to take full advantage of its offerings.

With delicious food, riddles, and shadow puppet shows to watch, there’s never a dull moment. At some point Kuni got roped into helping children mend their dolls, but he much prefers to get some relative quiet from the crowds; you end up in a shop that makes their own mingxiao lanterns, and allows you to customize yours before sending it off to the sky.

Instead of writing your wishes on the paper slip as instructed by Master Lou however, you place an additional slip on the table between you and Kuni, silently willing him to take it and read its contents.

Like school-children passing notes, Kuni raises a brow at the way you’re pretending you’ve been on-task the entire time. You stand up and chase after one of the staff members to ask a question, leaving him alone at the desk.

He would’ve expected your handwriting to struggle fitting onto a paper so small, but the words stand out in tiny, tentative letters.

‘Did you ever regret meeting me?’

Kuni silently pockets the note and finishes off his wish, tying it to his mingxiao lantern and exiting the shop. The lantern looks like it could be the stage of a shadow puppet show. Or perhaps, more optimistically, a page where the wishes written on paper could be brought to life. With how unpredictable the shape of a flickering fire can be, Kuni doesn’t doubt that a drunk man could witness a dream simply by watching the lanterns up close.

He joins you at the docks, where children and adults alike crowd around the harbor and balconies, awaiting the start of the fireworks show. Once the musicians begin playing, the lanterns in your hands start to glow, raising themselves into the air. 

They gather against the night sky like a sea of fireflies, and as much as Kuni wants to say it’s simply an ocean of floating trash… the sight is something that brings him to pause.

“I’m not particularly mad or bitter about the past.” Kuni says quietly. It might’ve gone unheard beneath the music of the streets if he wasn’t standing next to you. “Even if you’re a bit of a liability, traveling around with you and making sure you don’t run into trouble aren’t such bad memories to have.”

The music swells, and something in your chest twinges with it. The melody goes tentative, tentative, before marching into a crescendo you recognise by heart.

“In that case, I have to thank you.” You reply, eyes on the lanterns that’re so far away now. “I never would’ve thought that offering shelter to a lost person would bring me to this day. But I don’t regret any of it.”

A whistle shoots through the air, drawing your line of sight up, and higher, to where the first firework blooms. It’s followed by a chorus of more multicolored lights, delivered from Naganohara Fireworks across the ocean. Perhaps one day, you and Kuni could visit Inazuma, or Mondstadt, or wherever else the wind blows. For now though, this sight is more than enough to captivate you. 

The fireworks are fleeting, yet as you drink in the display of explosive lights, the moment seems to hang just a second longer for you to savor it. 

Eternal, yet not. A long time ago, in a different place, Kuni had witnessed fireworks from your apartment window for the first time. Against the tempered glass, both of your reflections could be seen in tandem with the fireworks far away. 

You’d asked him if he wanted to go outside for a better view, but Kuni had said this much was enough. Perhaps there was something about its beauty that deserved being admired from a distance - or, he might’ve seen similar sights from a beach in Inazuma, far from where the main city stood proud.

“...You know what? If we ever get separated, or if you’re the one who loses their memory - I’d fight to hell and back to make you remember again.” 

“You say that as if I would forget.” Kuni replies, stating the loud implication as if it were fact. Maybe with his will, it might as well be.

“I’ll take that as a promise.” You lean against the balcony of the harbor, fireworks still going off around you. No one would know any better about an outlander being in their midst. “I’d have to annoy you day and night otherwise.”

Humans are horrible at keeping promises. “You’re lucky I know you.”

“And I’m glad that you do.” You smile, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Whatever happens now will be up to the both of you; destination, purpose, or dream.

The last firework explodes before the moon, larger than life and resounding against the darkness.

Happy Lantern Rite.

(End.)

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Ending notes: thank you so much for reading this far! It’s certainly been a journey while writing ‘Adopt a Wanderer’, and I hope ‘Reunion’ was a fun sequel to read!

My initial concept for the series was just this feel-good, comfy fic with Wanderer (who at the time was still called Scaramouche quite often, time flies…) Now that it’s officially ended, I’m allowing requests to be made with this series as its context! So if you want a more romantic spin on it, or certain moments/alternate timelines, feel free to drop it in my inbox and I’ll write them when I have time!

Following that, I’m also working on a fanbook version of ‘Adopt a Wanderer’! It’ll essentially be a compilation of the og series and this sequel, but more properly edited and featuring bonus content (plus some spot arts and a cover!)

If you’re interested in getting the PDF copy of the book, just check my pinned post for more info!

That should be all from me for now, and uh… to those that follow me for other characters, I swear I’ll get back to my normal posts soon. You can also drop requests for them if you’d like, according to my pinned post rules and etc. Hope you’ll all have a good day/night!

[s3raphimssins]

Dazai x reader coworker besties

After completing a mission in France. Dazai and the reader they still have one day remaining before leaving for yokohama. Dazai suggests they should tour around Paris. But the reader is low in energy and gets tired easily and dislikes rollar coasters. she finally agrees to dazai. Basically, take pics, visit the eiffel Tower, go to amusement parks,gets ice creams.

(Also if it'd be nice dazai having a lil crush on her uwu)

YOU WRITE SO GOOD BTW

➼Authors note: THANK YOU SO MUCH AAHH! I love your reqs so much their so unique I enjoy writing them, you ask and I shall deliver!

➼Pairings: dazai x fem!reader

➼Summary: a trip to France, an unexpected confession

JE T'AIME

"no"

"Pleaseee Donna!"

"no" you had been saying this for 2 days ever since you both completed the mission in France, today is your last day, it's 9 am the day hadn't even started Dazai started begging to go tour Paris.

"We have only a day left here and I'd say it would be a waste of time to just stay in a hotel room" dazai reasoned.

"We can just relax here I'm already drained after the mission and my legs cannot take another long day out" you told him, it was true you got tired easily and your legs already hurt alot. Though you think he was right about it being a waste to sit around in Paris. You sighed and said eventually giving up. "Fine we can go, but you will leave me alone in Yokohama."

"DEAL" it didn't take long for dazai to accept that offer.

You both got dressed and left to tour Paris and Dazai said they had seen an amusement park, you could go to. You weren't sure about that since you HATED rollercoasters but it would be fun to sit on the teacups or carousel.

Dazai was mostly dragging you across the whole thing, you sat on carousels, teacups, the Faris wheel and more rides that you actually enjoyed as you only had to sit on them. But Dazai begged you to come to atleast one rollercoaster. To that he got a strong no. there's NO WAY you're sitting on a rollercoaster no matter what he says-

"AAAAHHHH WHY DID I AGREE TO THIS" that was you screaming even before the rollercoaster dropped. You don't know how this sly man even convinced you but it happened. Meanwhile Dazai was over excited squirming in his seat and teasing you relentlessly "ride hasn't even started yet [name]~" and like the after a few minutes the rollercoaster started. You were screaming like 95% of the time and the minute it stopped your head bumped on the back, you were tired after just screaming your lungs out. Dazai laughed so hard at that and pat your back once you made it out, he also teased you on how your legs were still shaking after the ride but you smacked him on the head.

To make up for it you both left the park and Dazai took you to an ice cream vendor and you both got a huge ice cream glass with scoops of ice-cream and shared it. You both went on a bridge area nearby and sat down on the bench with the river view. Dazai let you eat the toppings as he felt bad for you. You both rested Abit there and took pictures of the view and of yourselves to show your colleagues. Dazai also took a photo of you after the rollercoaster but you don't need to know about that.

After you relaxed Abit and finished your ice cream you both took a cab and with a terrible attempt at french you both ended up at a museum. This was more your type you really enjoyed this and we're excited. You took alot of pictures of the relics and Dazai posing next to them. Dazai gladly took some photos of you next to the art their too and he thought you looked mesmerizing in them. Though he would never tell you that seriously.

After a quick snack break you resumed your journey to a long awaited spot of Dazai, the Eiffel Tower. You both could see it from a distance and took another cab there. The sun slowly began to fade as you both approached your final destination. You were captivated by the view of the pink/orange sky and the Eiffel Tower standing Infront of it. The sounds of people chattering away and taking pictures. You and dazai went to a waffle cart that was there and took two delicious waffles and stood on the bridge leaning on it where you had a perfect view of the sky and the Tower.

"this was definitely worth it" you smiled "thank you for bringing me here"

Dazai looked at you with a calm expression, he looked relaxed and said "thank you for accompanying me here".

You both stared off into the distance as the sun slowly faded into the horizon and he spoke up. " I bought you something" you looked at him in surprise. He reached into his trench coat and pulled out a hair pin which was full of tiny gems. It was in shape of a butterfly and it was champagne colored.

"Thank you! This is so...Pretty" you looked at it observing it's details and how good it looks. Dazai slowly raised it and pinned it on your hair at he side pulling them back out of your face.

"I thought you didn't want to come here donna~" he broke out of his serious expression and his playful demeanor was back. "Well I didn't want to, and I still think I would be much well rested at home, but this was a new experience thanks to you and I actually enjoyed". He laughed at that and you both ate your waffles staring into the distance.

Dazai excused himself for some time while you clicked a few pictures. He returned back after some time with 2 champagne glasses in his hands. "I saw this bar at the corner there so I thought I might get them!" He said cheerfully. You gladly accepted the glass and he had the other in his hand. "This is the perfect place for a suicide.." he with sparkles in his eyes. "And I thought I'll have a day without hearing you talk about suicide" you sighed. "There's no stopping you I guess" you chuckled.

"Je t'aime"

"what??" You looked at him curiously. He looked ethereal looking into the distance like that before he turned to you and spoke

"nothing you'll learn"

He toasted your champagne and took a sip out of his glass as you did the same.

What did he say? You'll find out eventually if you remember.

A.n: I THOUGHT IT'D BE NICE TO HAVE A FRENCH WORD IDK, but I got this off Google so I don't know if it's right or wrong but je t'aime means I love you! I don't know I apologize if it's short! I had fun writing this!

[tothepointofinsanity]

Greener Grass Awaits Lore "Masterpost"

[This post contains major spoilers for the game, so please be careful while interacting.]

[I would call this a fancy piece, but really it's just me incoherently blabbering about something I like not being talked about enough again. Read it with a kilogram of salt and view it as a discussion piece instead of what it tries to be. Be warned that this is a very long post, and it is encouraged to play the game before scrolling this.]

The Fundamentals: Greener Grass Awaits is advertised as a sport and horror game. In the former, your main objective is to finish all 12 holes on the golf course. In the latter, your character is stalked by undead entities under the moonlight that distract you from your said casual golfing spree. Before all else, we should start by considering the environments presented to us within the game itself, as it contains history and lore relevant to the bigger picture.

The Setting: You break into a prestigious golfing course known as the Green Canyon Golf Club, a club that has appeared on a magazine issue before which crowns it as one of 'the most inconvenient' courses in the world, likely due to the fact that it was built on an island, also featuring courses that loop around bodies of water. A bit of history given to us was that the course was initially meant to be left as open space before it underwent renovations accordingly in 1982. Today, you will find a large bridge that looms in the skyline between hole 9 to 11 which serves as one of the alternate entry ways to the island, as well as long walkways that cut between winding grasslands and forests.

The Golf Course: The lush and verdant environments of Green Canyon's courses boast the transplant of distinctly non-native, European trees to sport its current iconic look, and this impressive landscape is maintained by an outsource lawn-care company known as Greener Grass, a team that specialises in 'large, remote areas' and is known for its apparently weird advertisements. It is also implied from the bizarre ad and posters that plays at the end of the game that Greener Grass Co. has capabilities in helping to 'revive' dead or dried up lawns, and use a special brand of either soil or fertilising materials that assist in this process. The latter is implied from what you find around the caddy shack.

The further you pick and go with your ball, however, the more oppressive the atmosphere becomes. At some places you will see the illusion shedding its scales - bald, exposed trees on yellowed patches of ground despite being surrounded by other lush trees.

The Caddyshack: At the end of the twelfth hole lies a building you were warned to stay away from because "it's bad", according to an actual Green Canyon club member you met previously. All the doors in the building are locked except for the employee's only room, which will reveal a bloody scene. Presumably, the person you encountered previously who gave you the warning was dead on a chair, while a charred body lies on the office table in the middle of the room. Strewn about are cans of gasoline and Greener Grass Awaits co. bags, possibly containing the fertiliser or soil speculated before. The caddyshack is an important place as it functions as the gateway between the human world and the realm of the residing deity.

More of this will be explained later on.

The Forest: Entering the darkness of the room in the caddyshack will magically transport you to a different space of existence. Here, temples are separated by deep forests, with sacrificial alters occasionally in between them. The forests are dark, and staying in the light is necessary for survival. There are two objectives in this section of the game: pop The Blister and then Kill the Tree. You will need to repeat this objective twice as you march further into the home of the eldritch deity. The Blisters are pulsing gobs of flesh, like a heart, that are stuck onto the orifice of a tree in the forests. However, the game developer interestingly refers to them not as blisters, but as wounds. More on this later. Popping the blisters with your ball will open up the temples' entrance to access the Trees in question, hence the latter objective. You Kill the Trees by swinging your ball into the hole beneath its trunk. There are two Trees (so two Blisters altogether) to kill. When both trees are killed, your action provokes the deity living in this space of existence so much that a boss fight is instigated.

With that being said, it's important to now discuss the enemies we encounter in question.

The Antagonists: Sneaking in for some midnight golfing has its consequences the longer you overstay your welcome on the field and continuously stare down the face of evil. Interestingly, this game presents a surprisingly thought-out mechanism and line-up of enemies as they do not operate on a singular basis, but rather as a triangular feedback between a cult, a forest of angels, and a God out of this world.

The Cult: Under the guise of a landscape company skillful in maintaining the surrounding flora, it is heavily speculated that the Greener Grass co. are an elusive cult that has been offering human sacrifices to a foreign deity that promises everlasting scenery (satisfaction, contentment) in exchange. It is implied from some sign boards that the Greener Grass cult have been spreading the deity's influence outside of its realm and into the human world through the transplant of the aforementioned 'saplings from Europe'. The flora of this game are symbolic of the presence of this God, and potentially serves as an anchor for it to assist in the maintenance of the landscape. Some clues eluding to us that it is indeed a cult were the bloodied altars in the forest sections, as well as a weird book lying on one of the chairs in the Caddyshack. The inscription on the front cover is hard to make out.

The three enemies that stalk you through the game are Greener Grass employees, and are the poster children for both the cult and company given they are one and the same. The 'bizarre ad' that plays at the end also features the same trio, and the song played in it has lyrics hinting towards the company's true intentions. Some of these notable lyrics are: "my life is not what I imagined", "what if you could find that green, and all you had to do was come with me?", "it's the answer to your problems if you come with me". Definitely ominous, and the cult's whole ordeal with 'greener grass awaits you' is a play on the proverb of "the grass is greener on the other side".

Essentially, it is a cult that capitalises off people's insecure dissatisfaction with their own lives (which is pretty much in character for most cults in the real world anyways), takes advantage of sentiments of envy stemmed similarly, all with the lure that you will be happy if you join them. However, the cult does not just follow the stereotypical 'what if happiness was evil' trope, but because their motif is directly tied to the deity they serve under.

The 'Angels': The forests between the temples and altars are occupied with a crowd of stone statues that have that trademark grin the employees had. The angels operate in a very unique mechanism. Unlike the trio employees that stalk closer when your back is turned on them, the statues littering the forest grounds follow another modified system of the weeping angel formula - the second you stay with them in the dark without a light source, it will prompt flashing visages of their faces to psychicly overwhelm your vision. They do not directly attack you, instead choosing to paralyse you in with their surrounding numbers if you're left to wander in the darkness. I call them 'angels' as they seem to be closer to the original weeping angel family in terms of how they work, but also due to the fact that they look much more friendly in the light. They are also enthusiastic statues who rotate between striking an unnecessarily cute abundance of poses. All these poses involve them expressing their joy, almost in ecstasy. Praising, worshipping...something. The ironic liveliness of their poses grants them an impression that they are dancing behind your back.

I also like the detail that when a light source is on them, their expressions are always shut-eyed, but with the visages that flash repeatedly in dark areas, even if you can't see them well, the game shows you that their eyes are open, and thus the impression their expressions give off is that they're mocking you.

On their own, the angels are not a difficult enemy given their psychic esque attacks are ceased with keeping the light close to you. But this game is sadistic, so it eventually throws in the Greener Grass employees into the forests as well. What occurs then is that you're forced to move away constantly - so you either get killed by the employee for trying to keep the light with you, or you're killed by the angels once the employee drives you out of the light's radius. Extremely evil. Once again, it is to enforce the idea that everything that wants to kill you in the game are in cahoots with each other. Another minor detail I noticed was that the trio employees from the Greener Grass commercial also broke into dances over something viewed as trivial as growing lawn grass, which is likely a parallel to the Angels' poses. The expression of 'dancing' and a carved, permanent grin, I think, is done to honour their God.

A God: The overseer of the Greener Grass cult, a deity not from our familiar world who is connected to trees, nature, and most importantly, joy. The final enemy of this game is Exuberance, an eldritch divinity who has nefarious intentions of fully crossing over to 'our' world once the Last Sacrifice is Broke Open. A face with a grin stretched wide by tree branches.

Exuberance is an interesting name as it is generally defined by 'the quality of being full of energy, excitement, and cheerfulness; ebullience.' It's not simply the emotion of happiness, but rather, referring to a state of high spirits, of ecstatic liveliness being. Furthermore, and perhaps this is merely a clever coincidence, but 'exuberance' can also be used to describe, 'the quality of growing profusely; luxuriance' particularly with plants, which would circle back to how it is related to trees and the Greener Grass cult. The entities associated with Exuberance are then constantly in a state of 'bliss' and carve their own faces to resemble their deity. After all, since when was the last time you felt so happy the only method of expressing it is through a dance? It's a primal trait, undoubtedly.

It is thus speculated that this God is quite ancient given the appearance of its realm, the forest, contains archaic architecture of temples. Yet, the bodies we find on the sacrificial altars are fresh, the blood more red than rust. Exuberance had been collecting human sacrifices through its cult, as evident by the large amount of bodies/souls that are released whenever the deity takes damage. It has that same air of confidence and arrogance towards humans that most eldritch Gods carry themselves with. Likes to speak a lot. Here are all of its lines:

Abandon this endeavor. You can't kill a God! You will join me eventually, everyone does!

Now I realise who I'm talking to! No matter. Your suit of flesh is fragile. I will break it open, and you will pour out. That body will be the last sacrifice I need.

You cannot keep that world! I will take your dinner from you.

Upon your first playthrough, though, Exuberance's dialogue sounds like complete gibberish or madness when the context is not made clear yet. This whole journey thus far has not made much sense on how it transitions from casual golfing to killing a God, how Green Canyon Golf Club has to do with a cult; but it will hopefully become clearer with the next introduction: The Protagonist.

The Protagonist: Our local golfer may not just be as local as we thought.

We've discussed the setting and the enemies. Now we must talk about the main character: yourself. In the game, you have no reflection to view your character's appearance, but if it helps in any way, you seem to be slightly shorter than the majority of the enemies and NPCs you encounter. This isn't important information, I just think it's funny. Your character is generally regarded as a weirdo, even speculated to be mentally unstable or inebriated by some people discussing this game. The signs seem to be there: vaulting fences into a premium golf course after dark to play golf in the dark, having a tendency to stare at other characters straight in the eyes, unsettling even the security guard, and appears to be obsessed with the sport of golf. Your character is played up to be an infatuated madman with the latter, with mental barriers scribbled about how they wouldn't miss golf for the world, and the leading theory as a result was that the entire game was a hallucination birthed from their obsession with golf, or rather, too bloody drunk and passed out with strange dreams near the canyon. This would have been the case until you consider two things: Firstly, despite claiming to be a hardcore golfer, your character carries around a beginner's guide on the sport, and has only a simple putter and driver in their sling bag. When you kill Exuberance and wake up in front of the club's front door, you also do not recall where you were, only recognising your car was parked, and that you should leave. Not recognising Green Canyon Golf Club indicates to us that something is off, given as discussed prior, it is an infamous place for golfing, and had the character really been a die-hard for the sport, they would have realised it without problem. Secondly, the character you play from the start to the end of the boss fight compared to when you wake up seem to have differing personalities. The character you have been stuck with seems to know what they're doing at all times, and gives instructions on their next move. They're stiff, rigid, and are not easily excitable even in the face of the stalking employees or a dead body. They don't seem to care much about anything at all except for an odd aversion to water, as well as wanting to kill Exuberance. What is even stranger is that the font for the character's monologue is completely different after the boss fight ends.

During the game:

After the game/ending:

The former is more messy, like it's written by hand. The latter is a plain font. This implies that something about your character has changed — the truth was that you were possessed all along, most likely by another eldritch God whom is not Exuberance, and came to the golf course to slay it. There are some allusions to you being a separate eldritch entity: Exuberance recognises you. Not the character you were playing as, but whatever that was occupying the human vessel temporarily. An eldritch God has no reason to remember or know a mere human, after all, hence explaining the second and third line of dialogue by it in the temples, as well as why when the original owner of the body wakes up, they have no recollection of what occured whatsoever, and, effectively as other players have thought - it's all chalked up to both the ordinary you and the players as 'just a dream'.

Your character also refers to themselves as "this body" whenever you enter the water as the vessel you are possessing has no swimming skills. At the very start of the game, you even get to 'choose body'. You're choosing a vessel suitable to your liking to possess. What is more evident as well is the ominous answers that you can use to respond to whatever the NPCs are saying, as well as frightening them due to the possibility even they knew you felt off. You would often hear screams drone louder and louder in the background whenever you got near to these NPCs, as they are actually dead. We 'hear' the truth from what is not directly told to us by these spirits that were trying to advise against proceeding deeper into the course.

Yet, we proceed. The enemies would have directly charged at you from the get-go instead of waiting for you to look away since the way you look at something (eyes are the windows to the soul, and I wonder what kind of thing they would see in the place of one when others look at you) since you clearly hold a certain influence over them by presence and stare alone. The undead should have nothing to fear, and yet even they practice caution against something that reminds them of their patron God. Another reason I believe you're being possessed is because the font you have always used in the game feels handwritten, the same way Exuberance's font is more cursive and messy. Clearly, you are a deity by some means, just a different kind with different intentions; some intentions that are left unanswered even after finishing the game.

Just what exactly does all of this writing amount to?

The Final Story: An expansive golf course known as the Green Canyon Golf Club opens up in 1982 after being renovated from its previously barren state. It was founded on a large island, featuring a diverse, challenging number of holes for people to enjoy while they traverse the canyon's scenery. In order to maintain the green and natural state of the course, Green Canyon managers hired a company known as Greener Grass to assist them. Greener Grass co. appeared to be a rather new company, having only few reviews, but an eye catching advertisement and specialises in the lawn keeping for large, remote areas, which seemed to fit the canyon's liking and geographic description. The hired company set to work, transplanting in gorgeous trees supposedly from Europe, as well as using their own brand of soil to allow the environment of the course to prosper. The environment was clearly well tended to, with the course even forbidding golf carts due to how sensitive and delicate the fields were, as well as advising golfers to not hit their balls into the trees as native birds nested there. Despite these rules, the course was fairly prestigious, its popularity captured in several sports magazines.

What was unknown to the club, however, was that this lawnscape company they hired was actually a cult, and the permission to freely introduce foreign flora to the land had been with the company's intention to bring in anchors tied to the God they made contact with, Exuberance. Through the golf course and perhaps other places not mentioned, Exuberance had been steadily increasing its influence over the human world as it received more and more sacrifices thanks to its formidable cult. The cult worked in a caddyshack on the golf course, and would lure in members of the golfing club with normal statements of refreshments available, only to offer them up as sacrifices to the altars of the temple. The sacrificed bodies were then burned and made into the materials the Greener Grass front used to maintain the lush landscapes. Countless rinse and repeat sessions of bloodshed later, Exuberance required just one more body still to cross over to the human world and, from there, become unstoppable with the fact that its associating flora were planted everywhere by the cult by then.

But the violent rituals of the Greener Grass cult had resulted in innocent souls trapped on the grounds of the course and realm in-between worlds. The souls screamed in their fate of immortalised anguish, and eventually this unbearable abundance of noise roused the deity of the human world from its previous state of inaction. Exuberance is a source of insolence, believing it could attempt to compete with Us for the world we looked after. Something must come out of this. The problem was that Exuberance's realm was closed off, difficult to penetrate without proper mobility. A plan was thus hatched: possess a suitable vessel to appear human in order to get closer to the home of the enemy. It risked vulnerability as the human body was fragile and had a mind occupying it already, but that doesn't matter when casting a heavy filter of obsession with the sport would properly motivate them to do the bidding. This different deity knows that Green Canyon Golf Club had been discreetly converted to a massive ritual ground at this point, and playing by the rules of the world of golf, even if tedious, was necessary to reaching the gateway and destroy the anchors tied to Exuberance.

You play the role of a victim as the undead start to stalk from behind, but something was off about this sacrifice, and the employees take turns reporting back to their God of this issue. Exuberance believed the disguise of a human, not being aware of what laid hidden under the layers of blood and bones. You finish the 12th hole, enter the caddyshack, and find yourself where you wanted to be: on the turf of the enemy's temples. Staying in the light was vital to survival here, and as fresh blood collects in the basin of the altar from a previous sacrifice, the innocence of a stolen life had purified to form a glowing orb. An orb that lights up like a star in the dreary landscape, taking the filth of flesh as it goes. By the time Exuberance had realised the scheme of a trojan horse, you had already successfully killed the trees, and all that was left was to kill Exuberance itself. With each swing, you take out pieces of the God, releasing the souls into the surroundings.

The fight ends with a clear victor, and you wake up outside of the golf club with no recollection of any of this. The deity possessing your vessel had relinquished control, allowing you to continue your life as normal. What occurs after then is unclear, as the advertisement sings its jingle, and we get to see the spine of a book inscribed with strange symbols on the right as the game ends with the sound of a closing door.

TLDR; Local grass cult goes overboard with human sacrifice rituals, acidentally summons worse eldritch being to kill their patron deity just so it would shut up. Happy golfing!

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - the inherent injustice of being the youngest person in any group

The Wall is nearly ready.

Amadeus likes a good wall, especially if he gets his hands on a printer and some red string. It’s good to be able to put all information in view at once – helps him organise his thoughts, or at least present them in a way that appears organised to a random observer.

“Oh, so we’re in crazy town already?” Tony sighs. “Cho, it’s not been a week.”

The Wall is nearly ready, save for a giant empty space he’d mentally labelled as OTHER PILOT. Now, Amadeus would be the first to admit he can get excited a smidge too quickly, so when he talks Tony through his and Montesi’s findings, he needs to make sure to include absolutely everything. He starts with two near-identical sets-of-four scans of the Maximoffs’ brains.

“No, no, let him talk,” Montesi pushes him into a chair. She’s got her hair up in the messiest bun Amadeus has ever seen on her, and he’s fairly sure she hasn’t meditated once since the first MEG scan came back making zero sense. He’s a great influence on everyone around him. “I triple-checked every conclusion. If this is real…”

“These were taken still in drivesuits, straight out of the Conn-Pod,” he says, tapping the highlighted area in the centre of the sagittal view. “Increased blood flow and activity in hippocampus for up to forty-five minutes after disconnecting from the hardware.”

Next: the original MRI Carter’s team took after the techs fished Reyes out of The Charger. Then, the results of the whole set of tests they took on his first day as their, ah, research participant. Montesi had the misfortune of taking the Hippocratic oath and doesn’t like the kind of language Amadeus got used to in private labs. “Six hours,” he says, pointing at the MRI, “three days,” pointing at the day-one MEG, then: “and yesterday.” He got a little carried away time-wise and didn’t image the scan onto a more user-friendly brain model, so it’s just rows and rows of electromagnetic waves in a table, with the relevant anomalies highlighted in neon green. Tony is a smart cookie; he’ll figure it out.

Smart as he is, he doesn’t really deal in meat brains. “Kid, help me out. What am I looking at? These are all pretty much the same.”

Amadeus just about manages not to clap like a proud parent. “They pretty much are!” He stretches himself across The Wall to point out the similarities in the detected anomalies: “See that? Minimal, but present activity in the frontal cortex, and constant stimulation to the hippocampus.” (Please please please don’t find something obvious I missed this is too interesting to be just. Nothing.) “Six! Days! No aneurysm! No seizures! Not even beginning stages of neuron malfunction!”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is this another Spector?”

Amadeus is ready for that. “Nope. His history is muddled at best – we really need to get into that, by the way – but there is no prefrontal cortex dysfunction, and no damage to the anterior cingulate gyrus.” Tony sends him a truly murderous glare over his fingers. “If it was DID, or schizophrenia, or anything, we would’ve seen signs of it by now. We mapped out his brain millimetre by millimetre, alright? There isn’t another explanation, it must be–”

“Don’t say it,“ Tony warns, but Amadeus can’t help himself:

“–ghost drifting! Come on, Doc, back me up.”

Montesi clears her throat. “He’s right.” Before Amadeus can whoop in victory, she adds: “Don’t put that in writing, I have a reputation to uphold.” She straightens the lapels of her lab coat. “Reyes needs thorough monitoring. There might well be nothing on the other end of that drift.”

“Well—”

“No,” she says, already aggravated by their many, many previous discussions on the topic.

“But—”

“No,” she repeats. “Yes, something weird is going on with his brain. Yes, I think we should investigate. But we have no evidence it’s connected to that dreadful jaeger.”

“Yet!” Amadeus is distantly aware that the noise he makes resembles a dying goose. “Tony, just hear me out.”

“Give me a damn minute.”

Both Amadeus and Montesi back away from the Wall to let him inspect the scans at his leisure. Amadeus hates being evaluated in real time; what he wants is to provide supplementary information to every piece of paper Tony looks at, what he has to do is wait for him to draw his own conclusions. Even though his understanding of neurophysiology is at best intermediate, and even though it’s Amadeus who’s supposed to be the biology side of their partnership—

“Take it down a notch,” Tony tells him seriously. “You’re about to vibrate through the floor. Go grab a drink or something, I need a word with Vicky first.”

“It’s my office,” Amadeus grumbles, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

“It’s my base,” Tony raises an eyebrow, but Amadeus knows better than to challenge him on that. “Run along, come back in fifteen. I’ll need you to walk me through the spongy bits again.”

*

Robbie thinks his spine might have turned to jelly. The wooden bench in the locker room didn’t look comfortable at first, but now he reckons he could stay on it for the rest of the shift. Or maybe the rest of his life.

It’s not the most tired he’s ever been. But it’s somewhere in the top five, for sure.

“Hey, man, that wasn’t too bad,” someone punches his shoulder. Robbie is too numb to figure out whether it was hard enough to hurt or not hard enough to register. “Have some water before you pass out.”

He accepts the plastic bottle. Briefly wishes death and suffering upon everyone who laughs when he can’t operate the screw top with his shaking hands. Finally, shoulder-puncher takes mercy on him and takes it away, then hands it back, open.

“Thanks,” he manages to mumble between sips. His bad eye is all screwy and he can still feel adrenaline pulsing in his temples like a hammer. Is he really supposed to do this every day? He doesn't know if he can find his legs before it's time to pick up Gabe.

“First day always sucks,” says the shoulder-puncher. “Brooks doesn’t normally stay on one person the whole time.”

Oh. Good. Someone else says: “I thought newbies were all air support.”

“No way, he’s too short for air support.”

“I could do air support,” Robbie frowns. He’s... not entirely sure what air support is in this context. He’s only partially convinced he’s actually forming words. Shoulder-puncher grabs the water bottle back before it slips from his fingers. “’m not. But I could.”

“Sure you could, pip-squeak,” Shoulder-puncher laughs. His accent is... familiar. Robbie tries to focus enough faculties to actually look at the guy. On his way to buff, blond, freckled like someone who hasn’t given up on a tan despite all signs indicating it isn’t meant to be. Maybe a couple of years older than Robbie. “You sound Californian.”

“East L.A.,” Robbie confirms. Shoulder-puncher points at one of his mates with a satisfied smirk and collects a bundle of Hong Kong dollars among a mix of cheering and booing.

“Grew up there before my old man got drafted,” he tells Robbie, tapping the side of his nose. “Name’s Guerro.”

The three other guys in the locker room also have names, and Robbie will be very embarrassed he can't remember them in the near future. They're training to be on the ground cover, but just as anyone else in the academy, plan to become rangers as soon as the new jaeger finally gets built.

"Brooks said--" Was that meeting classified? Robbie is too wiped out to care. "Vibranium problems. There's a delay."

"Aw, fuck that noise," probably-Kim drops down on the bench to his right. He makes an exaggerated double-take when he notices Robbie’s bad eye. "Dang, did Brooks get you in the face?"

"Accident," he shrugs.

"Make sure you see Nurse Carter, get some drops for that shit," Guerro cranes his neck to take a better look. "It's too fucking damp here, everything takes forever to heal up."

It's... nice. It's nice to have people talk to him rather than at and over him, and use a language he can mostly understand - there's some Cantonese inserts he's still getting his head around. Guerro and his friends tease him for being too-brain dead to remember the way to the barracks and express jealousy that he gets to bunk with the civilians. There's the tiny, irritating sliver wedged between his ribs that bristles at being the new kid again - always - but Robbie is truly too exhausted to pay it any mind.

Besides, comes a thought, if anyone around here is going to make ranger, it's you.

***

(Thanking @cicada-candy and @rokhal for the Spector idea. Also @wazzappp for help with the science magic bc let's be real in my hands that's the best we can hope for 😌😅)