#who is also always under shade because his control of shadows

[kiame-sama]

Would Papa Hades mind if I rant to him my frustration over how people always make him a ‘Bad Guy’ in our world?

Whenever Movies that have Greek Mythology in it, it always pissed me off when they make Hades the Villain (I feel like it’s just because Hades is the God of the Underworld that automatically makes him ‘Evil’)

Literally out of ALL the Greek Gods, Hades is actually the NICEST of the Gods (He was willing to let a mortal man take his wife out of the Underworld but he must not look at her because she’ll be sent back during the journey until they leave his realm) and was never unfaithful to his beloved Persephone

There was a myth that he had ONE lover, but that was BEFORE he met his Beloved

Would Papa Hades appreciate that I don’t see him as evil just because he rules over the Underworld? (Because since he’s one of the Great Seven so he’ll naturally be feared for his powers and authority)

Warnings: Papa Hades in his 50ft form, comforting ancient Shinigami, daily allotted sunshine/shade garden time,

For reference, this is approximately the current height difference:

~~~~~~~~

"-but I mean, why do they always have to make Hades out to be bad? I don't think my Hades is bad and I don't think you're bad either. You're probably the only one I've met in this world who didn't immediately try to make decisions for me. You haven't collared me, or taken me away from where I want to be, or tried to control me in any way. You're even letting me sit on your shoulder and talk your ear off in the garden because I wanted some time away from it all!"

The giant Shinigami was leaning his cheek on his hand, listening attentively to your every word. You both were seated upon a shadowy throne he had summoned in the stone and briar garden of Ramshackle. It was a good distance away from the building itself and no one was willing to tell the Shinigami he couldn't protect you.

Deep in the shadows, watchful eyes thought better of challenging a being of myth and power. Some were dissuaded from the prospect altogether, seeing such an ancient being so casually attending the soft Human prize. Not all who hunted sought harm, but even the insane knew better. Smaller predators will almost always give space to a bigger predator. No need to die this day.

The giant Shinigami was enjoying the history lessons from your world, curious that your own history had beings so similar to him that even shared his name. He also appreciated the fact you were so passionately defending his doppelganger in your world. Truthfully, the similarities between him and the Hades of your world was not lost on him. Perhaps the Humans of your world were originally from Twisted Wonderland and simply forgot over time after crossing to a different realm. If that were the case then he had much to consider.

Still, he appreciates how relaxed you are around him, now trusting in his willingness to act in your best interest. He had always afforded all of the Humans under his protection the ability to choose. The only difference now was he had to keep a closer eye on you than he did the Humans leaving his isle.

"I'm glad to be living up to your expectations, Little One. So long as it is your wish to stay here, I will aid you however I can. Young Idia has updated your phone to contact me directly should you ever have need. I must say, it is nice to hear of your home, you speak so little about it. I'm sure you have your reasons, so I won't pry. I'm thankful you trust me enough to share all of this with."

"Well, it's hard not to trust you. You've kind of been amazing."

It soothed the wounded depths of the old Shinigami's heart to hear such earnest words. You truly did trust him and he treasured that more than you would likely ever know. The mourning shawl had adorned him many long centuries. Those centuries were some of the most painful for him, yet that pain was lessened and balmed by your simple trust and affection. He treasured that.

[frvnkcastles]

Reader that sometimes just gets tremors? Especially when tired and frank just holds them as they can't stop? I'm going through this rn and have been since some trauma within the last year and an half, it makes my how that got cracked by my brother in a fight worse for some reason so I have to manually click it since I didn't get any medical treatment when it happened like 8 years ago?

EMPTY YOUR SADNESS ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You struggle with tremors, and Frank is there to help throughout the day.

Warnings: Tremors, gender neutral reader, fluff

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: This was actually a half-done one shot I had written some years ago based on my own experiences, because I also struggle(d) with tremors, though it’s gotten better, so I just had to edit a little and add some stuff. I hope it gets better for you too, anon!! I focused a lot on hands in this, I hope that works for you <3

Your frustrated huff followed by a loud sigh caught Frank’s attention, his routine of brewing his evening coffee interrupted by the obvious emotion arising from your shared bedroom. With a gentle frown, he tried to see you through the doorframe, tilting his head in doing so only to simply find your smaller frame hugging itself on your bed. A weight sank onto his heart and he forgot about the coffee machine promptly, leaving it work on its own as he trailed to the bedroom with worry gnawing at his heart — the one he had given up to you a year ago.

It was all that time he had spent with you that allowed him to know you more than well, and recognize the shadows of anxiety looming over your eyes as you turned to face him with an expression that told him you were seconds away from breaking.

”Hey, ’m here, sweetheart. Whaddya need?” he promised, his deep, calm voice always capable of grounding you in ways that no breathing exercise could. His ego had been boosted beyond belief when you had first told him that you found his presence and especially his voice immensely soothing, and ever since then, he had made an effort to talk you through your anxiety. Suddenly, a man of very few words, transformed into a chatterbox — although you had always known that when it came to praise and encouragement, there were very few who had it under control like Frank.

”I tried to paint my nails, but…”, you trailed off, making Frank’s frown deepen when you lifted your hands so he could see the obvious shake in them. He saw the embarrassment and struggle in your eyes as you blinked and shyly lowered your trembling hands down, but he was quick to reach you on the bed and take them in his own.

”Breathe with me, yeah? ’S okay. I’ll hold ’em for you as long as you want me to. Okay, sweetheart?” he spoke softly while making an effort to look into your eyes, all the while his big, warm hands enveloped your smaller ones. He felt the shake, so he squeezed a little tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to balance your fingers. ”There you go”, he whispered sincerely as you took in a deep breath and nodded along with him.

You took a minute just sitting with him, letting him cradle your hands and brush his thumbs across your skin until he was finally clearing his throat and getting up after a gentle kiss on each hand. ”Aight, tell me. What color ya want? I’ll paint ’em for you”, he inquired, and for a second there, you wondered if he was joking. But then he seriously walked over to your box of nail polishes and began digging through the different shades, his eyes scanning them — some got a longer, curious stare whereas others almost made him smirk. Clearly, he liked your nails painted, too.

Still, you were touched by his kindness, and when you thought about him painting his daughter’s nails, your smile only deepened. It threatened to bring a tear to your eye, but you swallowed and answered his question.

”Purple, please”, you announced meekly, a bashful look on your face when Frank grabbed the shiny little bottle and climbed back on the bed with you.

”Hell yeah, baby. Love purple on ya”, he commented before settling in front of you. He saw the flash of disbelief behind the affection in your eyes, and it made him grin as he pulled you closer and closed his jean-clad legs around your hips. ”What? Ain’t seen me with nail polish before?” he teased, well-aware that manicures were the last thing one thought of upon taking a glance at the muscular, burly, downright scary man. Of course, you weren’t scared of him, and you had seen the soft side of him, but it was still almost dreamy to watch him gently take your hand while unscrewing the top of the bottle with one of his.

”I’m so lucky I have you”, you chuckled quietly, all truthful and a little bit shy as you cast your eyes down to where Frank tenderly held your twitching fingers.

Before he could bring the small brush soaked in neon purple over to your thumb, he narrowed his eyes at you and hummed. ”Hey”, he grunted, and at that, you brought your gaze back to him only to find him observing you with sincerity. ”I’m the lucky one, aight? You mean everythin’ to me, darlin’. I’d sit here paintin’ your nails all night if you wanted me to”, he swore, and with a weak smile, you nodded in the knowledge that he meant every word.

Then, you fell into a comfortable silence as Frank meticulously swiped the purple across your nails, making sure not to mess up the skin around them as he focused so deeply it was almost amusing. His hold on your hand was soft but firm, and he felt warm even with the callouses on his big palm, sending a shiver down your spine as he effortlessly moved and tilted your hand so he could go about his work.

If only the tremors in your hands had been a one-time thing. Instead, they seemed to always be there, bothering you and making things difficult for you. Frank picked up on it quickly, always there to help you if you wanted it — and most times, you did. You didn’t say it outright, but he could tell anyway; you felt stupid and incompetent, probably even more so when you needed him to do things for you, so he always made sure to take off the pressure and make it a casual, normal thing. He didn’t mind, after all.

So, when in the morning you reached for your necklace, the one he had gotten you, adorned with a diamond heart, it didn’t take him long to see you struggling to unclasp the chain. Your fingers trembled uncontrollably and the harder you tried, the worse it got. He noticed the frustration growing behind your eyes as you desperately tried to open the necklace, the annoyance radiating off of you while you stood in front of your full-body mirror.

”Hey”, his gruff voice whispered from behind you, snapping you out of your self-loathing thoughts. ”Lemme”, he added before gently taking the necklace that looked so small in his large hand, ”y’know I love any opportunity to touch my best baby.”

When he saw the anger in your features fade into a blush and a sheepish smile, he grinned in a way that was more than obvious in the mirror while he circled around you. ”Look at you, still get so shy. Fuckin’ adorable, ’s what you are, sweetheart”, he muttered while towering over you, big hands coming to your neck before carefully pulling the necklace back and reaching for the clasp.

His big hands were hardly made for working with jewelry, either, but if anything, the brief struggle he had made you feel better. A part of you wondered if he did it on purpose — a secret he’d never reveal — but you did end up with a smile on your face when he finally locked the necklace and let it fall to the neckline of your shirt, shining in your reflection.

”There’s my pretty darlin’”, he announced with a kiss on the top of your head.

It wasn’t the only thing that required his help in the bedroom department, either. You had a few beloved button-ups that Frank absolutely adored on you, and every now and then, you made sure to whip them out. The only problem was… well, the buttons.

You had gotten the first one done. Then you kind of struggled with the second one, but you managed. The third one was your downfall.

”Goddamn it”, you seethed, the pure venom in your voice uncharacteristic to say the least, and it got Frank to peek from the bathroom connected to your bedroom, his wet hair ruffled and his bare chest shining under the warm lights while he tied his towel around his waist. Any other time, it would have gotten you to drop to your knees — and even now, your gaze lingered and your mouth went dry at the sight.

He, on the other hand, was far from amused as he watched the half-buttoned shirt, even though the peek of your bare skin caught his attention for a second. Nevertheless, it wasn’t the priority, and he made as much clear as he walked over to you with one of his big hands catching your wrist to stop you from stomping over to your closet for a change of clothes.

”Hey, hey, c’mere. I don’t mind, y’know that”, he reassured, and before you could rant about your inability to do the simplest thing, he gave you a look. ”Ya gotta be more patient with yourself, sweetheart. You’re tryin’ your best and I know ya’d get it with some more time”, he insisted while swiftly doing the buttons for you, taking his time to caress your collarbone and to lean down to kiss your neck when he was done.

It seemed he was always there to help you. Sometimes it was random routines that got interrupted by your shaking, like pouring a glass of juice or trying to write something down on paper, but the most persistent time it occurred during was nighttime. You’d lie in bed, unable to sleep because of the constant tremors, and oftentimes it would push you to a point of frustrated tears.

But Frank? He was incredibly patient with you.

”C’mere, sweet darlin’. It’s alright. I gotchu”, he whispered, his voice thick in the quiet of the night as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you to keep you still. It didn’t seem like it was going to stop on its own, but he had no issue with hugging you to help with the shaking, his big hands covering yours and your entire body swaddled by his embrace.

”I’m sorry”, you sniffled, ”I know it’s so annoying.” You felt so embarrassed that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t have any control over it, but Frank wasn’t going to let you go down that path.

”Nah, sweetheart. I know it must give you a lotta grief but I ain’t bothered. I won’t ever mind holding you through it”, he assured you, dead-serious but soft as he spoke into your ear. ”I’m sorry it keeps happenin’. Wish I could take it away”, he added sadly, and nodding, you agreed.

”Thank you, Frankie”, you sighed, dropping your head on his shoulder and feeling the warmth of his body. ”This would suck a lot more without you”, you mentioned, and chuckling, he pressed a kiss against your temple.

”Exactly how I feel about you and a lot of things. You make every day better, y’know? I just wanna do the same for you”, he explained with a shrug, and you couldn’t help but smile against his bare skin, a feeling that made him mirror the expression.

”You do, I promise. I appreciate you being patient with me”, you mumbled, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the feeling of being cocooned in his arms.

The tremors hadn’t gone away, but they were less bothersome with Frank applying just the right amount of pressure, and you finally felt like you could get some sleep. It was a ritual you repeated on most nights, and even when you grew annoyed yourself, Frank never, ever did.

[cherryblossomfairyy]

Blank Space.

Pairing: spencer reid x dark!y/n

Summary: It begins like a love story. But passion gives way to obsession, and what starts as a game turns deadly. As the chaos consumes y/n, love warps into control, ending in heartbreak, murder, and a final, fatal reunion. Along the lyrics of the song "Blank Space" by Taylor Swift.

Masterlist

a/n: TW she's crazy, stalking, murder.

You met Spencer Reid on a Wednesday, rain slicking the D.C. sidewalks, the kind of storm that promises something biblical.

"Nice to meet you," you said, breathless from the chase of the day, stepping beside him in a bookstore. "Where you been?"

He looked up from a leather-bound volume of Baudelaire, slow blink, tilt of the head—calculating. “Here. Avoiding people. You?”

“I could show you incredible things,” you purred, fingers dancing across the spine of a novel neither of you would buy. “Magic. Madness. Heaven. Sin.”

He chuckled under his breath. A challenge. “You sound like a warning label.”

“I am.” You leaned in. “But you’ll ignore it.”

And he did.

Spencer wasn't like the others. He was brilliant, awkward, cautious—exactly the kind of man who should have run the other way the second you leaned into his orbit.

But he didn’t.

“You look like my next mistake,” you told him on your third date, tracing the freckles on his cheekbone with your fingertip. “Love’s a game. Wanna play?”

He stared at you, equal parts fascinated and wary. “Games have rules,” he murmured.

“And breaking them is the best part.”

“And you love the game!”

The beginning was electric.

For weeks it was magic. Mornings tangled in sheets. Laughing over coffee. Nights spent chasing each other’s shadows, pressing secrets like kisses into each other's skin.

“I can read you like a magazine,” he told you one night, brushing your hair behind your ear, “but every time I think I’m on the last page, I find another chapter.”

“Ain’t it funny?” you whispered.“I know you heard about me.”

He nodded. “That you’re chaos incarnate. That you run before anyone gets too close.”

You smiled. “So hey, let’s be friends. I’m dying to see how this one ends.”

He kissed you like an answer.

You peeled him open layer by layer, each secret bleeding under your touch. Spencer was fire wrapped in intellect—cautious, gentle, with a gaze that saw everything and judged nothing.

You moved fast. The way you always did.

“Grab your passport and my hand,” you teased one night after just two weeks.“I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.”

He didn’t laugh.

Instead, he said, “And when the weekend’s over?”

You kissed him, hard and quiet, like confession.

“Then we find another reason to stay.”

It wasn't long before your chaos started pulling at his seams.

He was used to structure. You were a storm with painted nails and a smile that promised ruin.

“You have a long list of ex-lovers,” he murmured one night, glancing at your phone lighting up with a name he didn’t recognize.“They’ll tell me you’re insane.”

You grinned, pouring more wine. “But I’ve got a blank space, baby. And I’ll write your name.”

He let you.

Soon, the sweetness turned sour.

He found texts. Half-lies. Emotional sabotage buried in late-night disappearances and lipstick that wasn’t the same shade from dinner.

"You're pushing me away," he whispered during one of the quiet wars between you.

“I’m giving you a way out,” you corrected.

He stayed.

Because for every moment of jealousy and fury, there was passion so violent it bordered on sacred. Stolen kisses, nails down backs, whispered apologies in tear-streaked bedsheets.

“You’re the king, baby. I’m your queen,” you murmured in his ear, kissing over bruises your fights left behind. “Find out what you want. I’ll be that girl for a month.”

“But then?” he asked.

You smiled like a knife.

“Then the worst is yet to come.”

It did. It came in slamming doors, raised voices, and you screaming things you didn’t mean—but also maybe did. "Screaming, crying, perfect storms."

He was silent when you cried. You were cold when he begged. You could see it breaking him. But you couldn’t stop. You didn’t love him—you needed to own him. And yet he came back. Every time. "But you'll come back each time you leave."

...

Until he didn’t.

One day, he left. Quietly. No drama. Just a note:

___________________________________________

It was worth the high. But I can’t keep dying for a dream.

—Spencer

___________________________________________

“You can tell me when it's over. If the high was worth the pain.”

You laughed when you read it. Laughed so hard you cried. Then you poured another drink, sat at your vanity, and stared into your reflection like it was a stranger. “This is how it always ends,” you whispered. “Boys only want love if it’s torture.” You picked up your red lipstick—your favorite weapon—and drew a heart on the mirror. But this time, no name inside. Just a blank space.

The days blurred together. Your apartment smelled like spilled wine and roses long since dead. You played the voicemail he left again and again—not because of what he said, but because of how he said it: calm, tired, like a man stepping off a train he never wanted to board.

You imagined him packing, methodical. Folding his shirts with clinical precision. Organizing books alphabetically. He wouldn’t have looked back. You hated him for that. And yet…

Nights stretched. You caught yourself rereading old texts, old photos, dissecting them like crime scene evidence. Did he know you were unraveling? Did he care? You dreamed of him. Feverish dreams—some tender, some cruel. In one, he reached for your hand. In another, he watched you drown and didn’t blink. But worst of all were the mornings. Still alive. Still empty.

--- FLASHBACK ---

Hotel room in Prague.

The world had shrunk to a dimly lit hotel room in Prague, draped in silk sheets and sin. You had been reckless—laughing too loud, kissing in doorways, daring the universe to stop you.

“Stolen kisses, pretty lies.”

“I’ve never done anything like this,” he confessed, lips brushing your collarbone.

“I know,” you whispered, hand tangled in his curls. “That’s why it matters.”

He traced the scar on your hip with his thumb. “Who hurt you?”

“Does it matter?”

“I want to know what I’m up against.”

You smiled, cold and beautiful. “Everyone.”

“leave a nasty scar.”

--- FROM SPENCER'S JOURNAL (UNSENT) ---

She is everything I shouldn’t want. Dangerous. Addictive. I analyze her like a pattern, but there is no pattern. Just chaos, and beauty, and something inside her that reminds me of a burning cathedral. You shouldn’t look. But you do. “So it's gonna be forever. Or it's gonna go down in flames.” I think I love her. But I also think she’s going to destroy me.

--- NOW ---

You still wear the watch he gave you. It’s stopped ticking. You don’t fix it. There are men now. Others. Names you forget. Faces you never see again. But none of them are him. None of them ever will be. You read somewhere that obsession is just memory with teeth. Yours bites every night. You don’t cry anymore. You don’t scream. You just exist, haunted.

Because you were the fire.

But he was your match.

It starts with the photos.

You print out the old ones. Hang them around the bedroom like altars. Not just the posed ones—no. The candid ones. Him asleep on the train. Him smiling at something you said. Him reading in that damn armchair you made him bring over. You line your walls with moments he never agreed to memorialize.

Then, it moves to his habits.

You buy his shampoo. His brand of coffee. Start listening to classical music because he once told you Mozart helped him think. You memorize his lectures online. Subscribe to journals he’s published in. His voice in your head is clearer than your own.

The descent is quiet. Elegant.

You start showing up near Quantico. Once. Twice. Just in case. You say you’re passing through. You aren’t.

You learn the schedule of the coffee shop near the BAU. Sometimes, you sit by the window and imagine him walking in. He never does.

So you take it further. You find the bar the team goes to. Sit at the far end. Listen to their laughter. You keep your distance. At first. Until the night he walks in. And sees you.

His eyes go wide. Then shuttered. Like blinds snapping shut. He walks straight toward you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, voice low, sharp.

You sip your drink. Smile slow.

“Coincidence?”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I miss you.”

His hands clench at his sides. “This isn’t love. It’s obsession.”

“I know,” you whisper. “But you liked it once.”

He stares at you. So much pain in his eyes, it almost knocks you off your stool.

“Get help,” he says. And walks away.

"Cause, darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream."

But you don’t. Because you’re already too far gone. And the thing about nightmares is—they don’t end when you wake up. They evolve.

You break into his apartment.

It’s not as hard as it should be. He never changed the lock. You don’t steal anything. Not at first. You sit on the edge of his bed, breathing in the familiar scent. You open drawers. You whisper his name. You take a tie. Just one. Silk. Plum-colored. You wrap it around your wrist and wear it for days.

Then you start calling from burner phones. You don’t speak. You just listen. Once, you think he knows it’s you—he whispers, “Please stop.” But you don’t. You start following him. Not close enough to be caught. Just enough to know where he goes. Who he sees. One day, you see him smile at a woman in a bookstore.

You go home and destroy everything in your apartment. Cut the photos. Burn the letters. Shatter every glass.

But it doesn’t help.

Because he’s still in your head.

Still under your skin.

So you write his name again. This time, on your wrist. In ink.

Next time, it might be blood.

It was supposed to be enough—watching him from a distance, stealing glimpses, holding on to fragments. But obsession, like fire, doesn’t stay contained.

It spreads.

You start tracing her patterns. The woman from the bookstore.

Kathy something. Teaches at Georgetown. Favors red lipstick and wears her keys on a ribbon around her wrist. You follow her once. Then again. You watch her from across the street, heart thudding with something that feels a lot like rage. One night, you trail her into a dim parking garage. You don’t speak. You just want to see what fear looks like on someone who doesn’t belong to him.

But when she turns around, you freeze.

She looks at you and smiles.

“Hey—are you lost?”

You blink. Her voice is kind.

You nod, murmur an apology, and walk away.

That was the last time she smiled.

“I get drunk on jealousy.”

It wasn’t premeditated. Not really. You just wanted to scare her.

Make her understand. So when she finds a photo in her mailbox—her and Spencer walking—she’s startled, but not broken. You escalate.

A dead dove on her windshield.

A pair of heels—hers—stolen from her apartment and left on her porch, muddy and scuffed.

Still, she doesn’t leave him. You dream of choking her.

It happens fast.

Rain. Her umbrella flips inside out. You’re already outside, pretending to fumble with your phone. She’s rushing. Distracted. You follow her into a stairwell. No cameras. Just you and the sound of dripping water.

You call her name.

She turns, confused.

You shove her.

It’s not a hard push. Just enough to make her stumble. Just enough to make her afraid.

She screams.

You panic.

You lunge.

The fight is messy. Hair, nails, muffled sobs. She scratches your face. You smell blood and perfume. You press her throat until her nails stop digging.

When it’s over, you’re crying.

You didn’t mean to kill her.

But her body is warm, slack, and still.

To make sure Spencer would find her, you left some hints behind. A chess piece, a deck of cards with his favorite one missing and a business card from his drycleaners.

You sit beside her and whisper apologies.

Then you run.

The BAU is called in. You watch the news in a motel room two towns over. Spencer’s face on the screen. Haunted. He doesn’t know it was you.

Not yet.

But he will. And when he does, maybe—just maybe—he’ll understand. Because you killed for him. That has to mean something.

--- SPENCER’S POV ---

He should’ve seen it coming.

The signs. The obsession. The slow spiral.

But part of him refused to believe it. Refused to believe you were capable of something like this. Then Hotch shows him the surveillance footage from a nearby shop. Blurry, but unmistakable.

Your face.

A ghost in the frame.

His hands tremble. He excuses himself. He goes home and finds the tie missing from his drawer. And under his pillow—a single note, scrawled in lipstick:

You belong to me.

You're already gone by the time they trace your motel. You change your name. Cut your hair. Bleach your clothes in motel bathtubs. You blend, but not well.

Because inside, you’re unraveling.

You still hear his voice. Still see his hands. Still imagine his arms around you, whispering forgiveness. You call him again. This time, you speak.

“I miss you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t hang up.

He says, “Please. Turn yourself in.”

You laugh, bitter and broken.

“Would you visit me?”

Silence.

Then: “No.”

Something inside you dies.

You find him again, months later. Alone. A stormy night. Just like the beginning. He’s walking home. Coat soaked. Tired. You step out of the shadows.

He freezes.

His voice is raw. “Don’t.”

“Don't say I didn't, say I didn't warn ya.”

You smile.

“I just wanted to see you one last time.”

He looks at you the way you always feared he would.

Like a stranger.

“I loved you,” you say.

“No,” he replies, shaking. “You destroyed me.”

You nod.

Then you raise the gun.

[jayden-killer]

Hi!

I love your stories, could you make one where the reader is dating Miguel and is also a part of the spider community. The reader helps Miles to escape and Miguel finds out and argue with her.

I hope that you will keep writing stories.

Have a great day !

omg omg hii! I'm so glad you enjoy my stories, receiving these types of compliments always make my day :DD. And, i deeply apologise for taking this long to write your request; I've been so busy with my uni exams.. Anyways, here's your story!!

I HATE TO FIGHT YOU. (Miguel O'Hara × gn!reader)

warnings: Angst to light sfw (at the end)???, Miguel expressing his anger by literally destroying his lab lmao, VERY LONG ONE SHOT.

☆

Superpowers aren’t easy.

So it wasn’t a relationship with the leader of the Spider Society. Miguel was not an easy guy to argue with, you might call him stubborn, which was one of his main features. And even when Miles Morales, the newcomer to society, tried to change his mind, begging him to give him a chance to save his father, he hadn’t changed his mind. There was nothing Miles could do to change his mind. It was difficult with me, imagine with the others! But this is another story; Miles Morales was chased by an angry mob of Spider people, led by Miguel, flanked by me. The walls of the structure resounded with encouraging screams that every spider person gave himself, giving more charge during that chase. Miles was right in front of us, dodging webs and traps stretched by other members. There was something about that kid that maybe wasn’t something wrong.

He needed to be sent home and help him save his parents. I had not succeeded, and I would have avoided that another person (moreover a little boy!) would have gone through the same pain that I had to go through. Miguel and I split up, and that was my chance. With a perfect throw of my web, he managed to grab Miles' right arm and pull it towards me. The boy stretched his eyes, thinking it was the end for him. Only when I made a sign to him to become invisible and to hide behind a shaded wall, he understood. He hid me in turn, letting the angry crowd pass us.

Now it was the right time. "Miles". I called the kid with the labored breath and he returned to his normal form. He was exhaling and inspiring too, following the hunt we were giving him. Without wasting time, looking around if there was a person there, I took out my time clock, and put it on his wrist. " This clock will take you to your dimension. It’s already set for where you need to go. Don’t ask any more questions, go." Without giving him an answer, I left him there, in the shadows, his face confused and sweaty, while I waved him to go.

~☆~

"You did what?!"

"He’s a boy, Miguel!"

"You have no idea how serious the situation is because of you".

"Miguel, you have to reason. You can’t really thi-".

"The situation is far worse than you think, puta madre!"

Miguel’s scream rang out the second it left his mouth. I could compare him to an animal: panting, with his eyes reddened and grainy, studying every movement, his shoulders outstretched, ready to attack his prey, me, or maybe someone else. His fierce and intimidating tone made me shudder, close my eyes for fear that something might happen, or worse; I held my arms in place along my hips, biting my lip to channel the emotions I had inside. I didn’t want to show weakness before Miguel. Or better: he had already seen me as I was. Fragile, with doubts that twisted my mind, like a normal human being, yet in those situations I always tried not to show off... I wanted to have everything under control. The man didn’t realize that he was wrong, that he was blinded by this compulsive obsession with control. We were talking about a little boy, Jesus Christ!

I opened my eyes.

My thoughts were replaced by the still threatening tone of Miguel, my lover, who took a long sigh, pinching the tip of his nose. Then he shook his head, turning his back. The lab was upside down: the news of my help to Miles was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

"The consequences are serious. I can’t risk losing more people to a kid".

That was more a warning to him than to myself. "I need to think about it... I need to be alone".

"Miguel.." I tried to talk to him.

With one hand he stopped me from talking to him and shook his head slightly, not looking at me. " No." He said. "I know what you did. It was right. But now I need to be on my own" he repeated feebly, that I found it difficult to understand well what he wanted. Then I agreed, because I respected his condition and his well-being, so I left him alone in the now ruined laboratory, with the last words: "I only did what was right. He deserves a chance", then the doors closed. I swear I heard something from him.

"And I don’t blame you. But it’s not right that he can save his family, and I couldn’t do it".

[pollyharp]

Here is a fix I wrote about a day in the life of the ninja when there is no villain to fight.

No obligation to read, leave a like if you enjoy it though :)

Title: "Between Storms"

The sun rose over Ninjago City like a soft exhale after a long-held breath. Birds sang. The skyline shimmered. And for the first time in what felt like forever, no monsters, tyrants, or ancient curses cast a shadow over the world.

On the outskirts of the city, atop a forested hill, the Monastery of Spinjitzu stood quietly basking in the morning light. It was a rare thing — the ninja were home, and peace had truly settled.

7:05 AM – Morning Calm

Lloyd was the first one awake, as usual. He sat on the monastery roof, legs dangling over the edge, a warm cup of green tea in his hand. With his powers quiet and his thoughts still, he simply watched the wind move the trees below.

Behind him, soft footsteps approached.

“Could’ve guessed you’d be up here,” said Nya, joining him with her own mug of black coffee.

“Just needed a moment,” Lloyd replied. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Peace.”

Nya chuckled. “Almost suspiciously weird.”

He smirked. “You think trouble’s waiting just behind the corner?”

“Always is,” she said, sipping. “But that’s tomorrow’s problem.”

8:12 AM – Breakfast Shenanigans

Down in the kitchen, Jay and Cole were in the middle of a very serious pancake debate.

“I’m just saying, blueberry is the superior fruit,” Jay insisted, flipping a pancake with unnecessary flair.

Cole raised an eyebrow as he retrieved a bowl of batter. “Chocolate chip. Don’t even try me.”

“You just want an excuse to eat dessert for breakfast.”

“That’s the point of pancakes, Jay.”

Kai walked in, hair still damp from a shower, and groaned. “Why are you two always arguing about food?”

“Because food is important,” Cole and Jay said in unison.

From the hallway, Zane’s voice chimed in: “Nutritionally, they’re both suboptimal. But if you are making extra, I would like three.”

9:00 AM – Training Time

Despite the calm, training never truly stopped.

In the courtyard, the ninja gathered for their morning drills. Wooden dummies were lined up, mats unrolled, and the clang of weapons echoed under the clear sky.

Sensei Wu, calm and timeless as ever, watched from the shade of a tree.

“Even in peace,” he said, “we prepare.”

One by one, the ninja took turns sparring. Lloyd’s movements were graceful, honed by experience. Nya’s strikes were fast and precise. Kai’s fire came in controlled bursts, while Cole’s earth-shaking stomps echoed deep. Zane fought like a machine — because he was one — but also with a warrior’s heart. And Jay, chaotic as ever, kept everyone on their toes.

Their laughter interspersed with grunts and shouts — a family playing at war, though no war loomed.

11:30 AM – Free Time

Training ended early.

Cole found himself in the garden, tending to the vegetables he had planted weeks ago. He hummed an old rock song as he gently trimmed the tomatoes.

Jay, unable to sit still, had built a makeshift kite and convinced Lloyd to help fly it. It lasted a glorious four minutes before getting stuck in a tree. They laughed anyway.

Zane was sketching in the library, tracing the angles of a bird’s wing with almost surgical focus.

Nya and Kai were fixing the monastery roof tiles together — mostly to keep their hands busy and their minds clear. The rhythm of hammer and nail brought comfort.

No one mentioned villains or destiny. No one needed to.

2:15 PM – A Visit to the City

Later, they made a group trip into Ninjago City — not to fight or rescue, but to browse shops, visit an arcade, and eat dumplings from a street vendor who always gave them extra because “you saved my cousin that one time.”

They posed for photos with fans. They stopped by the museum to see their own old armor in a glass case, which was both strange and humbling.

A kid tugged Jay’s sleeve and whispered, “Are you really a lightning ninja?”

Jay knelt down, smiled, and sparked a small bolt between his fingers. The kid gasped.

“You bet.”

6:00 PM – Dinner and Memories

Back at the monastery, they cooked dinner together. It was chaotic, hilarious, and more than a little dangerous (especially with Kai near the stove). But they got it done.

Around the big table, the conversation flowed: memories of old battles, jokes about weird villains, and heated debates about the best pizza toppings.

“And remember that time Ronin turned us into old people?” Jay laughed, mouth full of noodles.

Kai groaned. “Don’t remind me. My back still hurts thinking about it.”

Zane raised his glass. “To peace — however long it lasts.”

They all clinked their glasses together.

9:00 PM – One by One

As night fell, the ninja peeled away one by one.

Cole stayed up drawing in the common room, charcoal smudged on his cheek. Nya polished her weapons by moonlight. Jay dozed off mid-sentence with a comic book on his chest. Kai stared at the stars for a long while, quietly thankful for the stillness.

Lloyd, once again, returned to the rooftop. This time, Zane joined him.

“You’re always watching,” Zane said.

“Can’t help it,” Lloyd replied. “Feels like if I look away, it’ll all go wrong again.”

Zane placed a hand on his shoulder. “But tonight, it hasn’t. And tomorrow is not ours to predict.”

They sat in silence after that, listening to the wind.

11:47 PM – The Quiet

In the deepest part of the night, the monastery was still. No alarms. No missions. Just the soft breathing of heroes finally allowed to rest.

And somewhere in the dark, beneath the stars and the gentle hum of the world turning, the peace held.

For now.

THE END

[jakes3resin]

Can you tell us more about biker gale and his plot??

Sure sure.

I am gonna warn you though, I'm the kind of person who likes spoilers and likes talking about them, so this will be pretty spoilery for what will eventually become Biker AU.

Here's what I've got plotted out.

Okay so story will start on a dark and stormy night (cliché yes but I enjoy a good cliché every now and then) where Curt opens his front door to a pale and shaking Bucky, a man he thought dead for nearing two years. Bucky, drenched from the rain and desperate, begs Curt to watch his child, a little kid that Curt hadn't even noticed given how tightly they're clinging to Bucky's shirt. When Curt finally catches a glimpse he sees wild blond curls and bright blue eyes, a shade similar to Bucky's but just different enough that Curt recognizes them to have come from someone else.

Bucky left town two years before for reasons no one had ever figured out. Some said maybe he left because the cops were gonna pin something on. Others say that his head hadn't been alright for a while. Curt thinks Bucky is dead because he knows that nothing short of death would have pulled Bucky and Buck away from each other. Most don't talk about it because Gale gets a dark look in his eyes whenever he hears Bucky's name.

Gale's the leader and founder of the motorcycle club Curt is a part of (Bucky helped found the club as well) and is always one step ahead of the law. He's smart, wickedly so, and doesn't allow anything to get traced back to him or his club. There's a lot of rage buried under his stoic facade, but there's also a lot of love. His emotions are usually felt to the extremes, and he does his level best to keep them under control. Bucky had been good for him, had brought joy to his life, but since he'd left, he's gone back to his old facade.

Bucky begs Curt to take care of his kid for five days ("Just five days Curtie I swear. I'll be back come hell or high water, I'll be back." "Bucky what the hell is this all about?" "I wish I could tell you Curt, I swear it's nothing that will come back on you." "Ain't worried about that. I'm worried about you.") And then he disappears into the storm again.

Five days pass. Curt sits and waits, taking care of Bucky's kid and keeping them out of sight. Bucky hadn't told him to, but Curt's a smart guy. He can connect a few dots, and it's better for everyone if Bucky's quick visit back to town went unnoticed. Curt's loyal to the club, but he's also loyal to Bucky.

Gale stops by concerned that one of his boys has practically disappeared without notice, especially Curt who has never done that before. What he finds shakes him to his core. Curt holding a small kid who looks the spitting image of Bucky with bright blonde hair. (I think both sides of Clegan sees only the other in their kid, I'm dramatic like that)

The kid won't stop fussing, and Curt's at his wit's end. It's the fifth day, and while he's good with kids, there's only so much he can do when a kid desperately misses their parent. He doesn't even notice Gale's presence until the other is stopped dead in his tracks staring at the kid in his arms. The kid stops fussing long enough to stare up at Gale and reach out to him. Gale gently takes them from Curt's arms, who is biting his lip holding back all he wants to say.

That's the sight Bucky walks back in on. He bursts through Curt's front door, and his heart drops to his feet when he sees Gale holding his kid.

Gale's heart beats once more when he sees Bucky walk back in to Curt's house. He'd been tormented the last two years thinking Bucky had either died or willingly left them. (He's not sure which option is worse) Seeing the other again brings him back to life, erases the shadows that had encroached since the other had left. He doesn't stop staring at the other in wonder even when Bucky tries to take their kid away.

A bruise on Bucky's eye sparks an incandescent rage in him, and his mind takes off like a shot obsessing over it.

When Bucky tries to leave, Gale runs after him, and the pair have an argument practically right in the street for all to see. ("Where are you going John?" "Not sure why that matters Buck." "Of course it matters John. Why the hell do you think it wouldn't matter to me?") They argue, things are said, tempers run a bit high as Curt tries to pry the two apart.

Then the FBI arrive. Bucky panics. And when Bucky panics, Gale gets overprotective.

You see Bucky had spent the last five days testifying for the FBI in a murder trial (I won't go into too many details), and they wanted him to testify against others. Except Bucky was no snitch. He'd testified because it was his friend that had been murdered, and he'd told the FBI he wanted nothing to do with them. In retaliation, his name got leaked (he'd testified under the condition of anonymity and the judge had allowed it because Bucky was a single parent and it was proven that there was reasonable evidence that the defendant would retaliate if given Bucky's name) so that the FBI could swoop in and force Bucky to testify in exchange for protection. Bucky said fuck that and drove to go get his kid back.

The rest of the plot revolves around Bucky having nowhere to turn for protection, and Gale being an absolute menace to the people trying to hunt down his lover and kid. They still love each other, but Bucky won't let Gale get too close. Gale was ready to forgive and forget because he trusts that Bucky had his own reasons, but Bucky still has too much guilt.

Could be a/b/o I'm not sure yet. A/B/O fic is currently draining my soul from my chest, so I may decide I need a break from that trope for a bit once I get around to writing and publishing Biker!Gale au.

[cocktailjjrs]

He LIVED Bitches!!!!

Long post ahead

First thing first... I love this starting pallet (i'm definitely overthinking)

Not complete white not complete black with prominent shadows, because every major character in the show is grey and one half of each partnership likes to lurk in shadows...This just highlights that things won't always be merry and colourful, but they won't completely be helpless...

Now to the episode itself...

We knew Aya was going to jump... Glad she was oh so delicately caught by Aku... I didn't think it was possible to clear everything in one episode, but expect the unexpected i guess...

And the main part of Dazai being alive and kicking...No but really, this is such a relief...

I kinda had the whole thing in the back of my mind that they can't kill Dazai, he is necessary for the plot armour to plot armour and all that shit...

But there was equal chances of Asagiri taking notes from Isayama or Gege and just decide, fuck it... let's keep him dead....If not the confirmed dead thing, then the dead till stated otherwise route that Hori took.

But i'm soooo glad Asagiri didn't do that!!!

Also, glad to know he is still as cocky as ever

AND AND AND

I screamed!!!! My fam started looking at me for two whole minutes like i've just gone crazy!!!

Because we got the prettiest boy speaking!!!

The look on Fyodor's face when he realised he was played by the one he had completely under his control (or he thought he had)... I think he realised the 'shallow bond' comment haunted him in this moment

I will deep dive into what exactly happened in those seconds in a later post, but i just wanna say

This is soooo damn funny!!!! Like you have this big bad mafia boss who has been MIA for the whole part of world destruction and his precious city being in the centre of it all (lets face it mori loves Yokohama more than he loves the whole world, he would gladly let the world burn if it means keeping that damn trouble-magnet city safe!) - BUT BUT BUT, then when things start to look up you only get a mention of the said boss and that too with a goofy fact such as he glued in vampire fangs to one of his executives! Don't tell me it's not an embarrassing dad thing to do, because it is!!!

I just know he, Hirotsu and Koyo has a hell of a time getting teenage soukoku to adulthood alive!!!

I mean -

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SIR YOU USED TO DO THIS ALL THE TIME???

No one's doing it like them!!!

Plus i just know Manga coming out is going to be even more gay than the anime, there will be more explanations and more fruity moments!!!

On a sad note...

Fyodor actually seems to be dead ( even if i don't believe it)

It hurt so bad to see Gogol man going - i wanted him dead, no i didnt, but maybe i did. His voice alone mad me sad...

But you know what i'm not sad about???

Getting rid of Fukuchi!!!

I'm not going to pretend that i felt even an ounce of sympathy for him, his whole 'i did this so you can bring peace' or 'some sacrifices are necessary for greater good' thing seemed forced to me. Like a desperate attempt at ending his character arc on a forgiving note, positive note...

But like i said, most characters in this show are grey... But there was none of Fukuchi's shade, and i didn't like it, even if in the end he wanted peace.

i do feel sad for Fukuzawa though,

He will have to live with that curse...

Plus i don't think Fukuchi is completely gone...

Decay of angel's may be over, but the mess they have left behind is not, there is still the other side of the page and whatever the fuck went down in those two hours...

But i'm glad that atleast Aku and Atsushi are on same side this time...

and this looks so much like:

So yeah, it's just another start!!!

Plus, You remember Soukoku came to fame after final battle of Dragon Head conflict?

The Finale of Decay of Angels will the foundation of Shinsoukoku's journey...

The two of them against all the threats to come...

We sure are in for a treat!!!

[weekend-whip]

Now I’m thinking about the little funny intricacies of their elements. Can Cole control, like, dust? Can he make sandy water not-sandy? Can Bolobo control fungi, and in turn, control small insects with said fungi? (Refer to Ophiocordyceps unilateralis). Where do the lines between lightning, electricity, and energy blur? Who controls plasma? How much does Griffin Turner eat with how many carbs he’s burning? What are Tox’s poisons made of and can they be engineered into something beneficial (like how coffee was supposed to be a plant’s defense mechanism but we turned it into profit)? Can Karlof control metal-alloys, raw material, or only pre-smelted and manufactured metals? Does Neuro get headaches a lot? How would Shade manage in an environment with multiple light sources and weird shadows? Brb gonna think of more

Can Cole control, like, dust?: If it's, like, legitimate dirt dust, yes. "Dust" made from, say, human particles would be beyond him

Can he make sandy water not-sandy?: Yes. Nya could also make the sand not-watery under that logic.

Can Bolobo control fungi-: Yes

-And in turn, control small insects with said fungi? (Refer to Ophiocordyceps unilateralis): ....yes, only because I love me a chance to incorporate those mind-controlled insect zombies *-*)9 (hey gamers, play Bug Fables while I'm on this soap box)

Where do the lines between lightning, electricity, and energy blur?: Boom badabing baby, but in short, lightning/electricity are treated as the same thing, and while energy can be lightning, lightning cannot always be energy. It's like a square-rectangle thing. Energy has more forms it can take and different ways it can power things, as opposed to lightning/electricity being only able to power electrical things specifically.

Who controls plasma?: Control of Plasma can be obtain via a perfect combination of Lightning and Fire. However, too much Fire will yield Light; too much Lightning will yield Speed. Plasma itself is not an Element, however, just a fusion: similar to Water + Lightning manifesting the Hydroelectric dragon, or Fire + Water manifesting that combo dragon. Kai and Jay would theoretically get, like, a Plasma dragon ;P

How much does Griffin Turner eat with how many carbs he’s burning?: A LOT, even more than Jay admittedly

What are Tox’s poisons made of and can they be engineered into something beneficial (like how coffee was supposed to be a plant’s defense mechanism but we turned it into profit)?: Can't give a specific answer on Tox's poisons cuz I'm still researching it up for legitimacy (esp for S2 and S4) but yes, they can be engineered into a "beneficial poison" with enough work—like a medicine, or something of the sort.

Can Karlof control metal-alloys, raw material, or only pre-smelted and manufactured metals?: Like Tox, still tweaking this one out. Metal alloys and raw material would seem to fall under his umbrella though, just off the top of my head.

Does Neuro get headaches a lot?: Yes, and especially when he first got his powers

How would Shade manage in an environment with multiple light sources and weird shadows?: Badly, like having some extremely shady vertigo

[kaibutsushidousha]

Memory in Children: Mechanical Choices (Sagrada Reset 3) - Chapter 2: Android Girl (Late June)

[INDEX]

As always, Haruki was the only one there when Asai Kei arrived at the rooftop of the southern school building because of Souma Sumire's invitation.

The rooftop on June 22nd was already as hot as it would be in the heights of summer. It was also a humid day. The atmosphere was building up moisture for the upcoming rainy days. Summer was in steady progress.

Kei approached Haruki with audible footsteps.

The girl had no hint of humanity but her forehead was properly capable of sweating.

"Aren't you hot?"

"I am."

"Then let's wait under the shade. You could get a heatstroke like this."

Haruki nodded and moved to the narrow shade by the rooftop entrance. Her walk was like a robot working in a factory. She draws a straight line from point A to point B and doesn't deviate from it.

ー Who is the android?

(What answer does this girl have for Souma's question?)

"What about you?", she said.

"Hm?"

"Are you not going under the shade as well?"

"Right."

Kei smiled and nodded.

Kei moved next to her and leaned on the handrail.

"Where's Souma?"

"She will be late because needs to talk to someone."

"Ok."

There weren't many tall buildings around the area. The sea was fully visible despite the distance.

Haruki's long hair danced in the wind.

Watching it made Kei smile.

"Your hair is really pretty."

Her hair was long, well-cared, and naturally wavy. It seemed sparkly depending on the angle of the sunshine.

Haruki didn't answer. Kei continued.

"So pretty that I think you should cut it off."

"I don't understand."

"It feels unreal. That pretty hair makes you look less human than you should. I can't help but find it artificial."

Her pretty hair and her eyes clear like glass beads distanced her from humanity. He couldn't ask her to gouge her eyes out, but cutting her hair was easy.

She finally looked at him in the eye.

"Is that a problem?"

"Maybe. People generally agree that people should look human."

"My mother likes my hair like this."

"And that's why you don't cut it?"

"I don't have a preference. In the lack of a preferred option, I chose to keep things as they are."

That was the end of their conversation.

The small world atop the rooftop was very silent.

(Everything is so different in Souma's presence.)

Kei was always a little nervous when Souma Sumire was around. Her every word chained him, and before he knew it, he was completely under her control. He felt like she could steal away all of his thoughts if he ever gave her the opportunity.

In contrast, the world created by Haruki Misora was quiet like a sepia photograph. So quiet and delicate that the tender winds and the slow flow of the shadows of the clouds felt like major changes. His consciousness expanded comfortably and without alarm.

The two girls affected Kei in opposite ways. It was like the fable of The North Wind and the Sun.

Kei took a moment to savor the tranquility Haruki generated. Tranquility akin to stasis. Like time was stopped. He felt like if he looked at the sky, he could find a bird frozen in midair.

"Asai Kei. I have a question for you.", said Haruki.

For some reason, he didn't feel like her voice broke the tranquility.

Kei turned to see her.

"What?"

"Is it sad not to be loved by one's mother?"

Not a question he expected to hear from Haruki.

But it was also a question no one else but her could ask. Anyone could say the same words, but Kei knew no girl other than Haruki Misora who could do it with those unmoving eyes and expression devoid of any emotion.

"Generally yes."

(That's probably the correct answer.)

"Does your mother love you?"

(She already forgot all about me.)

That's what he wanted to answer but couldn't. He felt this was a cowardly thing to say out loud.

"Probably.", he didn't elaborate.

"I know a girl."

Haruki's eyes were directed at Kei but it felt like she wasn't looking at him. It always did. Haruki's eyes looked at everything in her line of sight equally.

"She wishes to be loved by her mother. Do you know how she can accomplish that?"

Kei shook his head.

He probably wouldn't be in Sakurada if he knew.

"Not at all. What you have to do to earn love can be completely different from one person to another. I don't know who this girl or her mother is."

"Will you know the answer if you know them?"

"Who knows? Maybe I will, maybe I won't."

"Would you try if there's a chance?"

"Try what exactly?"

"Meeting her. Please."

(She's talking a lot more than usual.)

Haruki had a clear wish. It was his first time seeing her like this.

"Sure, I could meet her. But could you tell me more before I do?"

"I don't know the particulars either. She wants her mother to love her. What other information do you need?"

Her age, personality, home situation. There was a lot to ask. But it'd be easier to ask the girl directly.

(For now, I'll stick with the parts I need to hear from Haruki.)

"What's her name?"

"Kurakawa Mari."

"So this Kurakawa wants her mother to love her?"

She took a while to answer.

She nodded insecurely.

"Yes, most likely."

"Most likely?"

"I'm not sure. But I decided to cooperate."

Haruki looked confused. Despite not changing her expression. No alterations were visible watching from aside, but something felt different.

"Is that established in those rules of yours?"

"Not that I remember..."

"Oh? Then what made you decide that?"

Haruki lowered her gaze.

"Souma Sumire once told me there are two white boxes in front of me."

She could only open one but didn't know which was the right one. If the two boxes had different colors, she could pick the color she liked best. If the boxes had different shapes, she could use that to justify her choice. But the pairs of boxes in front of her are always white and always have the same shape.

There was no basis to choose one over the other.

"Souma told me this showed how uneventful the world is to me."

Kei nodded.

(The two boxes are options. The point of the talk is that for most choices, both options are equally worthless to Haruki.)

"So that's only you opening one box? Are you trying to say that you arbitrarily chose between helping or not helping a girl?"

"I'm not sure."

Kei sighed internally.

"If it doesn't matter either way, I don't care anymore. I lost interest. You don't have to introduce me to the girl."

Haruki Misora raised her eyes.

Her face showed no expression, as usual. So Kei could be wrong, but he thought she looked sad.

Kei looked deep into her eyes for the next statement.

"I can meet her if you want to help her no matter what. I'll work with you if the goal is to inevitably make things better for her. Inevitably, only giving her a chance to get better is not enough."

She responded with her own direct eye contact.

"I have no right to force you to do something you don't want to."

(That's not it. This is not about rights or force. You just need to say that the box you're looking at has a different color and shape from the boxes you saw before. I know it's human emotions that change the colors and shapes of choices. All you need to say is "I, Haruki Misora, followed my emotions and, with clear intent, made a choice not available within the scope of the rules".)

"Then I guess this is out of my hands."

That was the only answer he could give.

Kei was certainly curious about Kurakawa Mari but Haruki was more important to him than a girl he never met.

Inside his head, Kei tried to convince himself of his choice.

(I want to understand Haruki. It's not every day that I get to see Haruki express interest in a problem. But there's no point in me appearing out of nowhere and forcing a solution, taking the issue away from her. I'm perfectly capable of casting aside a girl I've never seen before.)

He was used to casting people away. He needed to be in order to commit to his decision to stay in Sakurada 2 years ago.

But if Haruki is at least one bit more wilfully about it, he'll gladly help.

"Understood."

Haruki nodded and ended the conversation.

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

Souma Sumire appeared on the rooftop 10 minutes later.

"Hello, Kei and Haruki. I know it's sudden but let's go somewhere else.", she said before she was done opening the door.

"Go where?"

"To the student council room. There's someone I want you to meet."

Side by side, Haruki nodded and Kei tilted his head.

"Then why did you call us to the rooftop."

(If were going to the student council, I was better off waiting in my classroom.)

Souma had her usual smile.

"Is the rooftop a more comfortable place for you to have a 1-on-1 talk with Haruki?"

He agreed completely. But he didn't feel good about how it felt like Souma could see through the whole conversation they just had.

Souma twirled 180 and walked away. Haruki followed behind her without hesitation. Kei sighed and started walking.

"Who do you want us to meet?", Kei asked when they were descending the stairs in a lined row.

"The student council president."

"To do what?"

"He has an ability. Didn't I talk to you before about exploring Haruki's past in more detail?"

Kei could remember this conversation without needing to use his ability.

ー But don’t you think we can find something if we explore Haruki’s memories in more detail?

"Why would you know the president's ability?", Kei asked after a quick nod.

"I was helping the student council in my first year. The president and I know each other."

"That's not all. You knew about my ability and Haruki's."

That was why she forced Kei and Haruki to meet.

"I already answered you. Information is something you obtain automatically when you're in the right place with the right mindset."

"And I forgot to tell you last time that this doesn't answer my question."

After climbing down two floors, they proceeded through a corridor.

Souma looked at Kei from behind her shoulders.

"I can give you a proper answer, but you can't tell anyone, ok?"

"I never told anyone secrets I promised to keep."

Souma giggled.

"Then say a real yes."

Defeated, Kei nodded.

"I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"Thanks. I actually have a secret file. I found a document when I was at the teacher's lounge doing student council work and took a copy."

(Would they really be this sloppy about a document containing every student's abilities?)

He couldn't conclusively say it was impossible. Schools had uniquely distorted priorities, in his opinion. He wouldn't be surprised if files on abilities aren't handled with the same stringency as a test's answer sheet.

"The student council may seem like a worthless group at first, but they're a great resource of information. They get to frequently enter the teacher's lounge, are on good terms with the teachers, and get trusted for no good reason."

"Is that why you're a class representative?"

"Yup, exactly."'

"By the way, there's one thing I wanna know."

"What?"

One can obtain information by being in the right place with the right mindset.

"I get it that the right place is the student council. But what is the right mindset?"

The will to harvest information on everyone's abilities. Her reason. What is Souma Sumire's goal?

Souma stopped walking. The student council door was in front of her.

"That part is a secret. You'll know eventually."

She knocked on the door, cutting the conversation short.

Nanasaka Middle School's student council president was named Sakagami Yousuke.

He was a skinny boy of small build—although Kei would hesitate to use the word "boy" to describe someone taller and older than himself.

As far as Kei could remember, Sakagami was always smiling. Though occasionally it would be a timid, pathetic smile. He often showed those in public presentations to the whole school.

Sakagami was the only person in the student council room.

He was sitting on a folding chair but stood up the moment the trio entered the room. He moved like a hamster scared by a loud noise.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Sakagami, the student council president."

His voice got less audible the closer it approached the end of each sentence. To the point that the three sets of footsteps approaching him got louder than his words.

Kei stood directly in front of him and smiled.

"I'm Asai, from the 2nd year. Nice to meet you."

Sakagami stayed quiet for a moment and then gestured to the folding chairs.

"Have a seat."

He seemed always afraid of something. Kei assumed he was only nervous from having to speak to the whole school, but it turned out he's like that all the time.

Kei and Haruki sat on the chairs facing Sakagami and Souma on the chair next to him. That was how the chairs were arranged.

Sakagami looked only at Souma.

"Uh, so, what am I supposed to do?"

"I want you to use your ability. From Asai to Haruki."

"Oh, hm, ok."

Kei internally sighed and asked.

"Wait a second. What ability do you have, Sakagami?"

Sakagami spoke, never taking his eyes away from Souma.

"You didn't explain it to them?"

"Oh, now that you mention, I didn't. You explain it."

Embarrassed, he shifted his eyes to Kei's chest.

"In simple terms, I can copy abilities. The person I touch with my left hand gets a copy of the ability of the person I touch with my right."

"Wow. I didn't know there were abilities that worked on abilities."

"It's a middling ability. Rarely ever useful."

He understood what Souma wanted to do.

"I want you to experience Kei's ability. To remember your previous self.", she said looking straight into Haruki's eyes.

If Haruki uses Kei's ability, she'll be able to remember everything. Maybe she had emotions in a memory she forgot.

"For what purpose?"

"I want to know a version of you that you forgot."

"Understood."

As always, Haruki answered without hesitation. Haruki never refused anything as long it wouldn't cause problems for others.

Without paying much attention to her idiosyncrasies, Kei interjected.

"Wait a minute. Haruki, are you sure you want this?"

(Memories are powerful. That's because they're your own will. They're powerful enough to distort your current personality.)

But Haruki's face didn't change.

"Is there any problem?"

Kei couldn't answer. He was the last person who could deny the value of memories.

Sakagami had his typical timid smile.

"Then I'll get started."

He stood up, circled around the table with unstable footsteps, and stood behind the two. He mumbled "Excuse me." and touched Kei's left shoulder with his right hand and Haruki's right shoulder with his left.

"In this state, if Asai uses his ability, Haruki will get the same effect."

"You mean that if I remember one year ago, Haruki will remember one year ago?"

"Yeah. Haruki doesn't get free control of your ability. She'll get the exact same effect you apply on yourself."

Kei looked at Haruki's profile.

"Haruki, what do you want to remember?"

"You can choose any time."

"You decide it."

After some pause, Haruki answered.

"Then a memory from when I was 7."

"Why 7?"

"No particular reason. If I must give one, I'd say it's because that's Kurakawa Mari's age."

Kei nodded.

"Ok. Then I recommend you close your eyes. Seeing the past while you're seeing the present is not a nice feeling."

Kei confirmed that she followed his advice and closed his own eyes.

Immediately before it, he caught a glimpse of Souma's face. She was looking at him and her expression was very stern for some reason.

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

Haruki Misora closed her eyes and remembered when she was 7.

"Seven-years-old". That keyword alone didn't lead to any specific memory.

It was only when she associated that age with being in the second year of elementary school that the memories started springing forth. She remembered her elementary school classroom, her classmates, and a few major moments. But those were all indistinct.

She heard Kei's voice.

"Here we go now."

Immediately after it...

Haruki's mind instantly warped. Like the lamps of a room being switched on. Everything in Haruki's 7th year floated back to the surface.

"We are currently in a room at the Nanasaka Middle School, where we are second-year students.", said Kei.

Without those words, she could have believed she was still 7. Asai Kei's ability. The power to remember everything. To re-experience the past in all of its precision and intensity.

In her memories, Haruki was in her elementary school classroom.

It was the break between Japanese class and Math class. Haruki had her math textbook, notebook, and pencil case on her desk. She was quietly waiting for the math class to start. She remembered everything. What pencil she used, what she learned in the Japanese class, the chair's sensation, the creases on the white curtains. Everything.

She could hear what her then-classmates were talking about. It was quite a loud world. She could remember what the boys in the seat next to her were talking about, even though she wasn't paying attention when it happened. "Whose house are we going to today?"

She heard a real voice overlapped with theirs. Souma's voice.

"What did you think about when you were 7?"

Haruki shook her head and answered.

"Nothing."

She only sat down and waited for time to pass. During breaks, she waited for classes to start. During classes, she waited for them to end. Rinse and repeat.

"At age 7, were you already defined by rules?"

This time she nodded.

"Yes. Same ones I have now."

Her vocabulary has gotten more childish. But the 7-year-old Haruki had already bound herself to her rules.

"When did you make the rules?"

"I can't remember."

The younger Haruki couldn't remember either.

The next voice she heard was Asai Kei's.

"At that age, did you want your mother to love you?"

Haruki slowly shook her head.

"No."

The 7-year-old Haruki was essentially identical to the present one.

Her life was nothing but living. She had two identically-shaped white boxes in front of her. She opens the one the rules tell her to, unable to differentiate the two. That was all.

Haruki felt a sudden headache and put her hand on her forehead. The pain quickly intensified. Fatigue sprouted from within. The pain lost its sharp intensity and became a consistent discomfort.

She noticed Sakagami Yousuke taking his hand off her shoulder. Her fresh memories immediately turned hazy again.

Opening her eyes, she found Souma Sumire staring at her. A long desk. Folding chairs. A whiteboard. (I'm in Nanasaka Middle School's student council room.), Haruki reconfirmed.

"What's wrong?", said Souma.

"I don't know. My head suddenly started to hurt."

It felt like a headache but maybe wasn't one. All that she knew was that she felt some sort of pain but it was already getting better.

While she calmed down her breath, she heard Sakagami Yousuke and Asai Kei talking. Sakagami was panicked. His words were even faster and harder to parse than before.

"Does your ability have any side effects?"

Kei's answer was calm as always.

"It's painful to remember too much information at once. The information that isn't part of your daily life all comes in a single block."

"I see. Any other problems?"

"Depends on what you're remembering. Remembering pain will be painful. Unpleasant memories will hurt your mood. Sad memories can make you cry."

"I'm better. Do you want to continue?", Haruki announced shaking her head.

It was Souma who answered.

"No. That's all for today. No need to take the risk of making you suffer."

"Is my suffering a problem?"

"Yup, a huge one. Look at Kei, he's sad too."

Haruki turned to Kei on the chair next to her.

She didn't find anything different in his face. But that was just her not noticing it because she's bad at reading emotions on human faces.

"Obviously. Watching people suffer is sad.", he said.

His delivery was composed as if he didn't feel a thing.

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

"You don't look too pleased, Kei.", said Souma Sumire.

Kei walked home with both hands in his pockets. Souma always lined up next to him. Kei quickly shook his head and answered.

"I'm not really upset. I'm normal."

"You didn't like exploring Haruki's memories? But that's not all... Something happened, I imagine before I got to the rooftop."

Kei sighed.

"Can you listen to what I'm saying?"

"It's your fault for making the lie too obvious."

"What makes you think I lied?"

"It's not hard to guess what the person next to me is feeling. You know I'm good at this."

(Yeah, that's true, I suppose.)

Souma excelled at reading people's psychological state and Kei was indeed upset.

Kei changed the subject.

"Sakagami is a weird guy."

"But not a bad guy."

"I think he's a good person but he always looks scared."

(It's hard to figure out his reasons for wanting to be student council president.)

"I don't take issue with him being weak-willed."

"Yeah, probably doesn't harm anyone."

"But is there something about him that bothers you?"

"Not at all."

"What about him bothers you?"

Souma showed no interest in empty words.

Kei answered with something akin to resignation.

"He never talked to Haruki."

Even when Haruki was in pain, he didn't look at her.

"I wonder why Sakagami never talked to Haruki."

"Beats me. Was he afraid?"

"I don't see any reason to be afraid of her."

"Me neither. Haruki doesn't have a single scary bone in her. She doesn't bark or bite. If he found her creepy or uncanny, that's just avoiding someone for being different."

From a distance, Haruki seemed inorganic and artificial.

That's what made Sakagami Yousuke feel slightly repulsed. His rejection showed in his attitude.

"And you find that unforgivable?"

"That's blowing things out of proportion. I just didn't like the guy."

Souma laughed.

"Look at you getting all fanatic about Haruki."

"It's not about Haruki. It's about the owner of the Reset ability."

"You say that, Kei, but all you ever talk about it is her personality. About the person Haruki Misora, not her ability."

"You can't talk about an ability without talking about personality."

(That came out like an excuse. But I didn't lie.)

Sakurada's abilities depended on the user's characteristics. Most abilities take the form of what they desire or the part of themselves they can't go without.

(Haruki Misora wished for her ability to be the Reset. That quiet girl who wishes for nothing; that girl like an android controlled by rules gained such a powerful ability.)

Souma whispered with a mildly coarse voice.

"She uses Reset when she sees someone cry."

(She uses Reset to wipe away every tear within her power. Knowing that this act is pointless. If you tell me that this... this stupidly precious heart is her hidden nature, I'd have no way to deny.)

Souma quietly laughed.

"You believe Haruki is a pure saint, don't you?"

"It's impossible to believe. But as of now, I found no proof to the contrary."

(She's like an abstract concept. Formless good, at its purest and most worthless state.)

Souma approached Kei to whisper into his ear.

"What were you and Haruki talking about before I got to the rooftop?"

Her breath was faintly sweet.

"There's a girl named Kurakawa Mari."

A girl who wants her mother to love her.

"Haruki wants to wipe away her tears."

(I'm sure she has a powerful wish to wipe away those tears.)

"And how does that make you upset?"

He reflexively sighed.

"Haruki still hasn't noticed her intense emotions. I hate that."

That was Kei's answer, since he was far past the point where he thought he could dodge the subject.

[nevermatchandscpsradadventures]

The votes came out with a tie, so here's the first of the two - Hero of the Haunt!

Visually, I was heavily inspired by Allister from Pokémon Shield, and I was also inspired by Commander of the Crows by Lauren Estes and Nature Boy by Nat King Cole (although I listen to the AURORA cover)

For someone as incredibly shy and accidentally stealthy as him, it's surprisingly easy to find Haunt. If he's not nearby, then he's most likely at the local graveyard or the nearest crypt, meticulously cleaning each and every inch of the graves, leaving flowers, and listening to the ghosts and spirits gossip about various things. If he's not there, then you should next try to spot a murder of crows, for he can often be found among them, as he has a fondness for them, especially his companion/pet crow named Takku. If you still can't find him, then perhaps he's at Hyrule Castle, visiting Princess Zelda, who is quite possibly his only living Hylian friend. If he's still nowhere to be found, just find someone and have a conversation with them, preferably about something important; chances are, you'll see him out of the corner of your eye, standing there in the shadows and listening.

To be completely honest, it's always a good idea to assume he's always nearby and listening, even if he doesn't always mean to eavesdrop. If there's a secret you're wanting to keep, say nothing about it out loud, for he'll most likely hear of it, even if just from listening to the dead tell their tales. If you've talked about a secret of yours out loud, and he doesn't seem to know it, count your blessings and stop talking about it out loud.

As you can probably guess, Haunt is a medium, being able to see and hear various spirits, ghosts, shades, whatever you want to call them. He takes funeral rites and the like very seriously, and he'll even bring spirits their favorite flowers when he cleans their gravestones. All of this, of course, has earned him the favor of the dead - including the Poes. In fact, it was because he thoroughly repaired and cleaned the Poe Queen's stone and left Gerudo Oasis Poppies (her favorite flowers) that the Poes took such a liking to him. They lovingly refer to him as "The Boy", and they treat him with the same kindness and respect he shows them. Little shades even lend themselves to assist him, hanging out in bottles on his belt and acting basically like potions of various functions, which they do by sort of possessing him (although he remains in control of himself).

In Haunt's opinion, there are five kinds of people: the Gossipers, the Gripers, the Patronizing Ones, the Indifferent Ones, and the newest and rarest kind, the Friendly Ones. The Gossipers are generally fellow classmates and some adults, spreading rumors ranging from "I heard that if you get too close to him, you get cursed" to "I heard he's the living dead." The Gripers are schoolyard bullies and sour old people, calling him a creep, a menace, or sometimes worse (because of the Gossipers, though, the Gripers never physically do anything to him). The Patronizing Ones are often middle-aged women, saying that he's "just troubled" and "just needs guidance" and things like that. The Indifferent Ones simply don't have any opinions on him, and are generally rare. The Friendly Ones, as their name implies, are friendly, sort of like the Indifferent Ones if they cared; Princess Zelda was the very first Friendly One that Haunt met, outside of his now-deceased parents.

His parents had been loving and caring of him, and he reciprocated these feelings constantly. But one day, they died under mysterious circumstances, which left Haunt an orphan with no one to care for him except himself. He remained at their graveside for days, although not a tear had been shed. It was around that time when he learned he was a medium, and that's also about when his adventure started after hearing of graves and crypts being defiled by a dark force. His parents were able to see him off on his adventure, albeit as spirits.

Haunt's concerningly small size causes people to not only underestimate him, but also mistake him as being half his age (when he's clearly almost 12, thank you very much). His large hooded tunic doesn't help his case, as it almost completely swamps him. He has the ability to use a little bit of magic, but many who know this ask him things like "Why can't you just magic yourself to a healthy weight and size?", which is a stupid question, because no, he can't just do that, Kyle.

Along with being incredibly shy, preferring to wear a mask to hide his face and even hiding under the capes and cloaks and scarves of those he favors, Haunt is often quiet and respectful, although he's also easily flustered and has a certain sadness about him. He's often nervous and overthinks things a lot of the time, but he is sweet and kind nonetheless, doing his best in what he can, including training crows to retrieve things for him. He has a fear of fairies, which would seem peculiar and amusing to the inattentive layman, but for those in his Hyrule, it's a perfectly reasonable fear - after all, the fairies had cut off from Hylians, became the size of a Hylian child at the smallest, and became carnivorous; his fear had become closer to a phobia, naturally, after a Great Fairy nearly ate him (fortunately, he'd been saved by a group of Poes before she could do so).

[farbeagle]

Not that anybody asked, but here's some behind the scenes/commentary on my fic Heterarchical Loop

Fic had been in the works for several years and was originally going to be more of a classic time loop. When I was still active in the EphemeralArtShipping Discord, it was going to be sort of an end of the year tribute to fics that my fellow authors had written. I was really stuck on the theme of doorways and thresholds, and I was going to have Brassius more in control, passing through doorways into the settings of other fics

(Side note: All love to the EphemeralArtShipping Discord! I'm still in it, I just have it muted bc I was getting overwhelmed with the amount of activity and notifications. I still pop in and lurk from time to time 🩷)

I was going to name each chapter after an example of a strange loop, but then I decided not to because I didn't want to.

The Stone-cutter: A Japanese fable, is considered a kind of strange loop by Wikipedia users

Elusion of Consequence: Refers to Camus' beliefs that hope is a form of self-delusion, and an attempt to elude the consequence of the truth of the universe: that there is no meaning.

Meditative Seat: Another Secret Base decoration later featured in Artazon

The Door Into Summer: Actually refers to the Monkees song, not the Heinlein book. I was going to involve The Door Into Summer in my original plan for this fic, as sort of a cautionary tale about the pursuit of wealth. (The song is about a man who misses out on the pleasures of living because he dedicates his whole life to the amassing of wealth: "The children left King Midas there, as they found him / In his counting house where nothing counts but more."

A Day at the Races: Refers to the Queen song, which uses a Shepard tone to create a strange loop of a chord progression, that seems to go on indefinitely without a satisfying resolution. (Also featured more famously at the end of The Beatles' I Am the Walrus)

Here is the unused opening for the first, unfinished iteration of the fic:

Brassius came in sniffling, with darkness at his heels despite the early hour. That was winter for you, teaching her lessons clad in shades of blue and black and gray. Hassel had already lit the candles and a few of them guttered when Brassius shut the door, flickering with still more violence when a few sneezes burned through his sinuses. “So it's a cold, then?” Hassel asked, emerging from some shadowed corner of the living room with a lighter in hands. “One of Nature’s many little gifts,” Brassius said lightly, continuing into the house proper. He steadied himself against the couch to ride out another wave of sneezes that left his head pounding and his eyes watering. “A yearly occurrence, I'm afraid.” “I know, but…” Hassel bit his lip and shifted, wrinkling a folded newspaper he'd tucked under his arm. He studied Brassius for a long moment before turning away to light another candle. Strange… It was a matter worth pursuing, just as soon as Brassius tracked down… Cough medicine or capsules or something. Even the dim light of the candles made his eyes hurt, and the tickle in his throat that had seemed so innocuous that morning had evolved into real pain. “But you're feeling alright?” Hassel asked. Brassius opened one of the kitchen cabinets. Would they have put medicine in the kitchen or one of the bathrooms? It always slipped his mind when he needed it. “Brassie?” “It's just a cold, Hass.” After a few moments squinting into darkened cabinets and drawers, Brassius shook himself and turned on the light. The fairy lights they'd strung up near the ceiling barely illuminated the walls around them, let alone anything on the kitchen floor. There, by the letter organizer, a little orange bottle. “Um, Brassius?” Hassel called again. Brassius’ hand slipped over the child safety lid. Damned things. Whatever children had been in the focus group must have had the strength of full-trained Machamp. “Brassie?” A newspaper clipping hung on the fridge. Hassel must have done it last night, sneaky little thing. In black and white, Brassius’ newest sculpture towered over his own image: a vast Tsareena sitting with folded legs. Bloom's Repose. Brassius sneezed and tried the bottle again. The ridged plastic bit into his palm. “My dear?” Hassel popped his head into the kitchen and smiled. “Here,” he said, extending his hand. Brassius sniffled and sighed. “Thank you, Hass.” He leaned against the countertop, staring idly at the refrigerator. “Did you call me?” “Ah, yes,” Hassel said, and failed to elaborate. Brassius watched through watery eyes as he unscrewed the cough syrup and poured out a dose. The liquid came out slower than usual. Quite possibly it was expired, but between the tickle in Brassius’ sinuses and the sting in his throat, that was a gamble he was more than willing to take. Hassel passed over the little dosage cup, his movements impeded by the newspaper still tucked firmly under his arm. It must have been that day's edition; no loose corners caught the air where a picture or article might have been cut out. He was keeping an awfully tight hold on it… The cough syrup crawled down Brassius’ throat, leaving gentle relief in its wake. He sniffed again and looked hard at Hassel. Something was bothering him. Even now, he shifted like a guilty Houndstone and wouldn't meet Brassius’ eye. “You called me?” Brassius prompted him. “Do you need anything?” Hassel asked, a little too fast and a little too loud. “Why don't I make you some tea? Or— Sit down, at least.” He wrapped an arm around Brassius and steered him back toward the living room. Brassius caught his hand before Hassel could sit him on the couch. It would have been easy enough to snatch the newspaper; Hassel seemed to have forgotten there was any special reason he was keeping his elbow pinned to his side, but restraint was always the better option with Hass. He startled easily, after all. So Brassius sat and held Hassel's hand and let the cloud of decongestants and analgesics descend on his mind. “What's the matter, Hass?”

And the editorial that Hassel was circling around:

In fact, I find this piece unbearably twee, not to mention derivative and self-referential (one has to wonder if Brassius' next piece will simply be a self-portrait, his belief in his own superiority writ large in steel and aluminum). Upon gazing at it, one has to wonder: so what?

As I started to develop that idea, I realized that I was trying to balance two conflicting meanings: 1) There is a lesson Brassius must learn in order to break the time loop, 2) There is no reason for this; it's simply random and absurd. As you can see, principle 2 prevailed in the end.

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

"It is one word for it." She wasn't sure if there was footage, but she was probably on it. She should have thought of knocking it out, but she could always work on the backend when it came to it.

A nod from her. "The park is fine." As long as they didn't put her under house arrest well she could get out well enough. And maybe she could find a different way out. She knew she needed to be far away from this location just in case. So she walked down the hall as he disappeared.

She made her way to the meeting room because that's where she should go with the alarms going off as opposed to anywhere else. She should try to destroy the footage, but maybe she would get lucky and there was none. She perched in her seat all the same. Doing her best not to be nervous.

She snuck in late that night once it was quiet. Getting the information she wanted out of the system and also very quietly erasing footage. She took care to not get caught and would be at the meeting place at the right time.

As James left Vought Tower, his senses heightened and his hunger grew more insistent. The scent of blood filled the air, tempting him with its sweet allure. He walked briskly, desperately fighting the primal urges that threatened to consume him.

At one point, a stranger crossed his path, and for a split second, James's control wavered. His fangs bared, ready to strike, but he managed to restrain himself just in time, his eyes widening with the realization of what he almost succumbed to. With an apology to the man, he quickly retreated, seeking solace and safety within his lair, the confines of his coffin.

Throughout the day, as Annie had to deal with Homelander being unhappy that the creature who attacked him and lived was somehow FREE and the meeting relating to it, he battled his inner demons, the constant struggle between his vampiric nature and his desire to retain his humanity. The hours felt eternal as he slumbered, but as the sun finally set, casting a pinkish glow across the park, James emerged from the darkness. His features were composed, but a hunger still burned within him, kept at bay for now.

He stood by a designated meeting spot wearing a pair of shades until the sun had fully set, his gaze scanning the surroundings as he awaited Annie's arrival. The park was serene, its tranquil atmosphere a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. He yearned for the companionship, the alliance that had unexpectedly formed. And so, he stood there, a figure cloaked in shadows, patiently waiting for the arrival of his newfound ally.

A small hum from her. At least there was that. That at least put her a bit at ease. He wasn't just running the risk of picking up someone innocent. "There is at least that." She said.

"I wouldn't say most wanted, but at least on the radar." She knew a few people in the department that she could ask for help. "I don't know how dangerous, but I can get them if you wanted." It would mean that she wasn't feeling quite so guilty about it. "You probably shouldn't come with me. I have to go into Tower and if you were locked up I imagine that someone would raise the alarm."

Norrington nodded in agreement. "You're right. It's best if I don't accompany you further" he acknowledged. "I wouldn't want to draw any unnecessary attention or risk causing further alarm. We need to be cautious."

Just as he finished speaking, alarms suddenly blared throughout the Tower. Norrington's absence had been discovered. He exchanged a knowing glance with Annie. "It seems my departure hasn't gone unnoticed," he remarked with a wry smile, "Time is of the essence now."

He quickly formulated a plan. "Let's meet at a neutral location, away from Vought Tower, where you can provide me with the files you mentioned," he added. "How about the park nearby? It should offer some privacy and relative safety." He could hear the storming footsteps floors above.. " Tomorrow night , at sunset.. "

Norrington didn't wait for Annie to make her way out of the Tower before he slipped away , moving swiftly and stealthily through the shadows. Just… there one second and gone the next. Moving through shadows as if he was part of them. He couldn't afford to be caught now, not after being imprisoned for so long. The hunger gnawed at him, but he focused on the task at hand, escape.

[limitlessgojo]

Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo

NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship

Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation

Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.

The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)

You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.

"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.

"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”

“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.

You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help. 

"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.

So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes. 

You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him. 

“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”

“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him). 

You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.” 

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts. 

Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips. 

"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.

He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.

"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip." 

".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."

"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then." 

"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public. 

He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin. 

After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him. 

"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.

You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day. 

Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn." 

Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining. 

"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this." 

It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn. 

💜💜💜

You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband. 

"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.

"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself. 

But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him. 

"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.

He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.

"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.

He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear. 

Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.

You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.

Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.

Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head. 

He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined. 

"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.

His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes. 

Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.

With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact. 

"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.

No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.

"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly. 

"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time. 

For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.

Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"

As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it. 

"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."

You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once. 

You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.

But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.

He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there. 

You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.

You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.

Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.

"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke. 

"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit. 

In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm. 

He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut. 

"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow. 

He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up. 

He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.

He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.

He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.

"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).

You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.

"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out. 

The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.

"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.

"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."

He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms. 

You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."

At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.

"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"

He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.

Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.

He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.

One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.

"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.

He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.

The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.

Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power. 

His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.

"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.

You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside. 

Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.

The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.

You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.

You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed. 

"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep. 

🎇🎇🎇

The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.

Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn. 

"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.

Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.

End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜

All rights reserved to Limitlessgojo.

[pinkniz]

Freddy Fenrir headcanons i have because of the lack of canon content of him

He's partially color blind(cant distinguish red tones) but with a wide field of vision and can see in the dark like real wolves do

He turned into an esper when he was between 11 and 15 and it was awfully PAINFUL

Originally had pink beans but when he got older he tattooed them black, he could barely tell they were pink by himself but everyone pointed it out and that was enough to convince him

Can smell people's pheromones

Despite his fame as a meathead he's actually very perceptive

Has ADHD but was never diagnosed

When he was a boy(puppy) his parents had a hard time getting used to his new appearance but his mom enjoyed brushing his fur and this was one of the few moments he felt safe with her

His dad was very traditional and was the one who taught him strength is what matters and that as a man he can never be weak

He was always seen as a wild animal and would usually get punished by being locked up and now as an adult he still gets stressed whenever hes in closed doors and its worse if hes locked up alone

He's actually from a high status family and while they were terrified of him they also loved to brag about having an esper in the family at prestigious events/parties, only to cast him aside when the events were over

His real name is Frederick but he hates it so he stuck with Freddy which is how people refered to him when they praised him

Reacts violently if you call him by his old name

His claws can cut through pretty much anything and his bites are MONSTRUOS

This one is kinda canon since it was in the beta but when he got his powers he got into a lot of fights with dangerous people which eventually led him to the Shadow Decree

He has 3 father figures, Unky Chai being like tutor to him in shade power and Djoser and Jiang Jiuli being kind of like his dads at the decree

He hated Leon at first because he reminded him of his family but eventually the two of them became very close

His collar was created by the decree as a safety measure to keep him under control, it serves as a way to minimise his strenght and he only accepted wearing it because it looked cool

He has a tendency to chew on things when he's anxious and thus he has a few bones saved in his room but he would rather die than to let anyone know that

[jekde04]

Of Sudden Rains and Lasting Promises

Pairing: Gruvia (Gray Fullbuster & Juvia Lockser) Fandom: Fairy Tail Genre: Romance Word Count: 2,254 words Summary: She had been fairly good at controlling the rain and not letting her emotions influence it too much. But there were a couple of instances in the past that it went out of hand–and it always involved one person. Just like how it did now. Prompt: Tears (Day 4 of Gruvia Week 2021, but I'm so late I don't want to tag it as such anymore lol) Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 You may also read it on FanFiction.net and AO3! Check out my master list for other Gruvia fics. Tag list (I'm so sorry I totally forgot to tag you in my last few fics!): @shampooneko @fbflame94 @juviaafullbuster @unvalley @gruviaftw11​ (Wanna be tagged, lemme know)

She didn't mean to make it rain. But thank heavens it was just a drizzle.

It had been a while since it last happened. She had been fairly good at controlling the rain and not letting her emotions influence it too much. But there were a couple of instances in the past that it went out of hand–and it always involved one person.

Just like how it did now.

Juvia wiped the thin streaks of rain pelting her face. She decided to sit on the park bench right under a big oak tree, but the rain must be getting stronger now because the thick canopy of leaves had become inadequate to protect her. She heard a man curse and remark how annoying the sudden rain was as he hastened to pack up the magazines and newspapers he was selling.

She was the gloomy rain woman once again.

"You shouldn't be out under the rain like that."

A hand holding a familiar pink umbrella appeared beside her, shielding her from the worsening downpour. She didn't need to look to know who it was.

"How did Gray-sama get Juvia's umbrella?"

"You left it in the guild, so I borrowed it for myself," Gray said as he moved to sit beside her, all the while not letting the shade of the umbrella leave her head. He moved his damp bangs away from his eyes and ruffled his hair to shake the droplets off.

"Gray-sama can use Juvia's umbrella. No need to ask Juvia," she muttered. She could feel Gray inching closer to her to make sure they're both under the umbrella, their arms and legs touching.

"I know. I just happened to see you here, and it's kinda unfair to keep the umbrella for myself while the owner is getting drenched."

Juvia looked at him, his chiseled profile matching the perpetual frown on his face. She already knew how handsome he was, yet her heart still beat fast every time she looked at him.

But she also couldn't help that sinking feeling in her chest when she remembered what she overheard earlier. She sighed.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Hmm-mmm," Juvia answered. She wondered if she should ask him or just let him broach the subject. Finally, she decided to just stay in comfortable silence as the rain poured in a steady rhythm.

"Juvia?"

"Yes?"

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

There it is, she thought, but she didn't dare hope. It could be something else.

"Juvia is listening."

A long pause, with nothing but the incessant downpour and the few people out and about being all that they could hear.

"I'm going on a quest with my team." When Juvia didn't say anything, he continued, "It's gonna take a while."

Really, it shouldn't hurt like this. Mages like them go on quests all the time.

But this one was different, she knew.

"Juvia knows. Everyone was talking about it at the guild." She looked at him while he continued to stare straight ahead as if counting each drop of rain. "You're doing Gildarts-san's failed quest, right? The one that hasn't been solved for 100 years."

"Yes."

What was a previously light shower started to transform into heavier rain, bigger drops falling from the sky and making plop-plop noises on the umbrella shielding them. She could feel drops hitting the right side of her body, and she knew that it would only be a matter of time before the wetness would start to seep through her thick clothes.

She felt Gray squeeze closer to her and reposition the umbrella to cover her entire body. Glancing at him, she noticed that half of his body was getting drenched by the sudden heavy downpour.

"Gray-sama, you're getting wet," she said as she moved even closer to him, grabbing the umbrella and trying to cover him better.

"Don't worry about me," he told her, moving his arm around her shoulders so that they could fit under the umbrella better. The sudden warm sensation as Gray practically embraced her lit Juvia's pale cheeks with a pink tinge, but she couldn't bring herself to say more to him.

After a few beats, he said, "I'm sorry you had to hear it from other people. I was planning to tell you, you know."

Despite the dark clouds in the sky and her heart, Juvia couldn't help but smile. At least Gray wasn't planning to just leave her in the dark this time, like what he did when he disappeared without a trace for six months. The thought of it made tears well in her eyes, and she hastily wiped them with the back of her hand, lest the rain worsened.

Gray looked at her, concern written all over his face. "Hey, you can say no if you don't want me to leave."

At this, Juvia looked at him, her eyes wide. "What?"

"If you're not fine with it, I won't go."

"Is Gray-sama asking Juvia's permission to go on a mission?" she asked, not believing what she was hearing.

Gray blushed and looked away from her. He shrugged. "Maybe."

"But why?"

"Well, you are..." Gray swallowed, as if a thick lump had formed in his throat. "You are... my… my friend. And what you think is important to me."

She should have been sad to be called just a "friend," but for some reason, Juvia felt warmth spread in her chest. Gray wasn't particularly good with his words, but he always made up for it in his actions.

And now, he was actually considering her feelings. Ready to throw away the chance to go on a once-in-a-lifetime quest if she said so.

"Does Gray-sama want to go?"

His brows creased in thought, and it took him a moment before he answered. "Yeah, I think so. There's a part of me that wants to stay, but a bigger part of me wants to get stronger."

Juvia furrowed her brows as she looked up at him. "But Gray-sama is already very strong. Juvia knows she says this a lot, but you really are one of the strongest mages she knows."

"I'm not planning to be the strongest out there," he said. "I just want to be strong enough to protect the people that matter to me."

Juvia rolled her eyes. "Everyone at Fairy Tail can protect themselves. You have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not talking about Fairy Tail," Gray answered, his gaze darting once again to the empty rain-drenched street. She may just have imagined it, but she thought she saw his cheeks darken as he tightened his grip on her shoulder.

"There is... someone... I cherish. Someone I almost lost before. I don't want that to happen again. I want to be strong, so I can keep her safe."

It was so unusual for Gray to talk about his feelings that it left Juvia dumbfounded. Of course, she didn't want to assume or make Gray uncomfortable, but…

What the hell. He was leaving soon, and she had to let him know how much he mattered to her. One more time.

"Juvia is sure that whoever that someone is, she already thinks Gray-sama is wonderful and more than enough," she said. And in a lower voice, she added, "And she believes that her love for him won't change whether he's the strongest mage on Earthland or just an ordinary man without powers. Because she loves him just the way he is right now."

She sneaked a peek at Gray, whose eyes she couldn't see behind his bangs, but his cheeks had definitely turned a dark shade of red. And maybe it was just her imagination again, but was that a shadow of a smile appearing on his face?

The rain was finally letting up, the dark clouds gradually going away. Yet the two of them remained huddled under Juvia's umbrella. Gray started to subconsciously play with the tips of her hair, curling and uncurling them on his fingers. Not that she minded, though.

"I know that. After all, she's the kindest person I know," Gray said. "That is why I want to be the best version of myself. For her. I don't want to be anything less because she deserves only the best."

Juvia could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, but she fought it and willed herself not to boil or turn into a puddle. The dark clouds were all gone now, replaced by the sun's rays taking a peek from the clouds and giving an ethereal sheen to their surroundings.

"Gray-sama is so sweet. Whoever she is, she's one lucky girl."

"Trust me, I'm luckier," Gray said, grinning at her. Then, realizing that the rain had stopped and the sun was out, he closed the umbrella and stood up, stretching his hand for Juvia to grab.

"I guess someone's feeling less sad now?" he asked, and Juvia blushed.

She took Gray's hand, and he intertwined their fingers as they started walking towards Fairy Hills. "How did Gray-sama know?"

"Let's just say I also have a Juvia-radar that tells me when you need a bit of cheering up," Gray told her, and Juvia couldn't help the swarm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Maybe it was due to their interlocked hands and the way his thumb mindlessly caressed her knuckles. Or perhaps the fact that he was walking her home, though he had been doing that for quite some time now. Or maybe it was because of how well he knew her–and actually cared about her.

It was all of the things he had said and done… and even all the unsaid ones that brought unparalleled joy in her heart. Because she felt… no, she knew that she was loved. Deeply and completely.

But she had to ask him one more thing.

"Gray-sama?'

"Hmm?"

"Can you promise... that certain someone... one thing?"

"What is it?"

"Promise her you'll come back."

Gray chuckled. "Of course. I promise I'll come back home to her, no matter what. I will come back as a man worthy of her love. "

She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, and they continued walking hand-in-hand, no words needed.

They were at the gate of Fairy Hills when Gray spoke again.

"Juvia?"

"Yes, Gray-sama?"

He had stopped walking and faced her. "Wait for me, will you?"

A bright blush bloomed on her cheeks. Gray had always been indirect with her, yet here he was, asking her (and not a certain someone) to wait for him.

As if there would be any other answer.

"Always, Gray-sama."

And, in a moment of boldness, she tiptoed and kissed him on the cheek, her lips lingering for a second before letting him go. She caught sight of his reddened cheeks before he turned his face away and awkwardly patted her head with his free hand.

"We won't be leaving until the end of the week, so, um... would you like to... spend some time with me?"

Juvia's eyes sparkled. "Is Gray-sama asking Juvia out on a–"

"Not a date!" Gray quickly interrupted. "Just, um, hanging out with each other since I'm going away and we're not going to see each other for a long time."

Juvia smiled knowingly. Nothing would change her mind that Gray was asking her out on a date, but of course, she would let him believe that they were just "hanging out" if that was what he wanted.

"Let Juvia think." She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a finger on her chin. "Hmm, Juvia wants to eat caramade franks, go fishing–"

"You wanna go fishing? We can do that."

"Really? Juvia's so happy! She was told it's always raining around her, so she can't be taken fishing or camping or–"

"Who said that? That's a load of crap," Gray said, irritated. "Tell me and I'll punch his brains out."

Juvia placed a hand on his arm. "Not important, Gray-sama." She smiled and added, "Tomorrow, then?"

Gray nodded. And before she knew what was happening, she felt Gray pulling her body close to him, her hat yanked away from her head, and Gray's lips suddenly on her forehead. Her hands landed on his bare chest, and she could feel his heartbeat thumping loudly, probably as strong as the beating of her heart at the moment.

It ended as fast as it happened, and she found herself being pushed away by a flustered Gray, mumbling, "See you tomorrow!" As he hurriedly walked away from her, Juvia finally broke from her trance and had enough sense to shout, "Gray-sama, your clothes!"

"Crap!"

Juvia giggled as Gray picked up his discarded clothes and started wearing them, still a bit of pink coloring his cheeks. When he was done, he hastily waved goodbye to her and shouted, "Tomorrow!"

She watched his retreating form until he was no longer within her line of sight. Her heart ached a bit, knowing that he was going away soon, but it swelled with the promise that he would eventually come home to her–a better, stronger, and more confident man.

How that was even possible, she didn't know, as he was already perfect in her eyes. But she also hadn't imagined that she could even love him more, yet here she was, finding herself loving him a little bit more each day as he ever-so-slowly let her into his melting heart.

Clutching her hat to her heart, she entered Fairy Hills.

A/N: I'm still writing Gruvia Week fics? You bet I am! It would be a waste if I don't flesh out those drafts I did before, right? Thank you for still reading my fics. I appreciate them a lot and you inspire me to keep writing. Btw, the fishing thing is a reference to the FT 100 YQ chapter 11 cover. And also to what Bora said to Juvia once. :)

[ifievertoldyou]

i literally only got tumblr so i could post my tHAW fanart on here. a valid reason, if you ask me.

cw for mild self injuries in the first panel of “Bad Night?”. it's not graphic at all; there's not even any blood, but if you struggle with seeing scratch marks, i'd suggest skipping to the other drawings. stay safe! 💙

—

"Bad Night?"

[1/2]

He wasn’t expecting to find Quackity in the kitchen part of the open space, elbows resting on the table, face hidden in his palms.

And Q hadn’t ever seen the other quite as disheveled as he was now, hair not brushed neat, shirt all rumpled and he wasn’t wearing his usual two toned waistcoat nor his bowtie, if anything right now he seemed closer to how people usually drew him in the world Q was from than the ordered and composed man he usually was.

[2/2]

The moment he stepped in the room, Quackity’s head shot up, and Q noticed the shine of drying tear tracks under his right eye.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, trying to sound as unbothered as he always was, but… right now Q could see right through that, so he just looked away...

~Chapter 34 of The House Always Wins by @alexanderwesker

-

mediums: crayola colored pencils (100 pack), #2 pencil, sheet of standard 8.5x11 printer paper

mini-analysis time because this is just who i am as a person, you can skip if you don't wanna read all of this 😭

this scene is one of the few moments that q sees the entirety of quackity shine through all the smoke and mirrors that he hides behind. q has seen quackity's soft side before, however q has almost never seen this broken side of him. he's seen glimpses, but quackity has always masked those glimpses with other emotions, most notably anger, to make his pain seem less apparent. but here, quackity is too tired to do that; he doesn't have any anger left, and q can tell clear as day how sad and scared quackity truly is, even if just for a couple minutes.

(also, you can see quackity's sadness more prominently on his left side than his right, since he doesn't have as much control over that side of his face anymore. and if you look at the character study i did for him below, you can really see the contrast between how he usually looks and how he looks in this.)

tHAW!Quackity Character Study

ignore the awkward angle, it was surprisingly hard to get a picture of this one without my shadow blocking stuff

here's a list of what's on my study sheet and why (left to right)

tHAW!quackity with an annoyed expression. i did this one to help me practice drawing his expressions with the scar, and also drawing him at a different angle.

tHAW!quackity doing his half smile thing. i also tried to draw his hair the way i imagined him styling it to distract from his scar when he goes out. i like to think that that long bit of hair goes behind his ear when he's in private, or just not distracting from his scar.

his teeth. this part helped me figure out where he did and didn't have gold teeth. on another note, i used like 14 different colored pencils for just this mouth. and 50% of those were just different shades of pink for the gums 😭😭😭 but i think it turned out pretty good in the end so ^^

a study on his scar and blind eye. this one helped me figure out how to make the eye look all cloudy and also how to make the scar look more consistent. i'm probably the proudest of this one. ^D^

now have a couple of closeups

ok bonus art time!!

“Bad Night?” wips

uncolored version

also fun fact on the tear stain: i tried to make it look kinda reminiscent to his scar, not only because they'd both sorta follow the shape of his face, but because one side of his face shows his physical scar and the other side shows his emotional scars.

only the physical scar can be seen at all times, and even then, he often styles his hair to distract from it, much like how he distracts from his emotional hurt by making himself appear disinterested. but in this scene he isn't doing either, which is why it's one of my favorites to read. it's so interesting to see this side of quackity, especially from an outside perspective.

ok anyways rambling over, time for some more wips

^thought i'd include the caption that i sent my friend as well ;P

i decided like 20 minutes before posting this that his hair wasn't messy enough so that's why the wips are a lil different from the finished product

^this one isn't exactly a wip, but i always think it's cool to see how many colored pencils i've used after finishing, so i decided to include it ^^

ok that's all. thank you sm for making it all the way to the end of this extremely long post that was basically just an excuse for me to infodump 😭.

while you're here, consider liking and/or reblogging, as any interactions on my art are deeply appreciated, and i'm especially proud of this one ^^