#They somehow travel back in time & makes it everyone elses problem

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt in Memes 6

Let's make it some in-world memes this time :)

#prompts #memes #meme #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam #cryptid batfamily #battinson #They somehow travel back in time & makes it everyone elses problem #They do not communicate with anyone else besides each other lol #give battinson a robin #but it's time travel and he has all of the robins at once #except Damian but they're going to grab him the moment he exists #Jason: wait does this mean I still have my all-blades #bruce is a good dad #but also so very done with his kids but in a of love and exasperation way #8 year old Dick & 5 year old Jason & 3 year old Tim showing up at the manor: B let us in it cold out here #3 year old Steph kicking down the door: Hope u missed my presence #5 year old Cass crawling in through the window: :) hello family #The kids: Wow Bruce u wear makeup that heavy that's funny lol #But can u imagine battinson with several tiny children following like ducklings #They're perfectly behaved in public but go back to being their lil shit selves when they get home #Gotham: aw the Waynes are like lil angels #Also Gotham: Oh my gosh did you SEE Robin Bite that poor person I hope they don't also turn into an undead cryptid

[shanastoryteller]

Happy happy birthday 🎂🎉🥳 Are you still doing the “cursed identity porn” au where LWJ can’t really see the Yiling Patriarch (because the mask?), but still tries to settle into being married to him? (Or JC traveling back in time?) Thanks!

a continuation of 1

“Where do you want the talisman?”

Lan Wangji looks up from checking over his pack one last time to see his husband in his doorway. He lifts an eyebrow.

“I’m going to be wearing the mask but there’s no reason for the enchantment to affect you,” Wei Wuxian says. “You already know what I look like. I have to paint it somewhere on your body – preferably someplace there’s no chance of anyone else seeing.”

Ah. That explains why Wen Qing have never seemed to have the same problems looking at Wei Wuxian that everyone else did during the war.

Lan Wangji considers several locations before untying his belt and shrugging off several layers of robes, letting them pool at his elbows and leaving his chest bare. “Wherever you think is best.”

Wei Wuxian hasn’t so much as given him a covetous glance since their marriage. Lan Wangji can endure it, if he must, endure the lack of his husband’s affection and even endure the way he seems so willing to share it with others. He does not have the soft, delicate features and willowy body of Wen Ning, Meng Yao, or Jiang Yanli. But if nothing else, his place as the number two most eligible male cultivator means that he’s not without his charms.

If he is completely outside of his husband’s tastes, it’s best that he knows that now.

He braces himself for indifference, keeping his expression bland to ensure that Wei Wuxian can’t see how surely it’ll crush him.

“Oh! Uh, um, sure, great,” Wei Wuxian says, voice at least two pitches higher than it is normally as his eyes dart up then down several times, blood rushing to his cheeks and painting them scarlet.

Lan Wangji stares. He has seen Wei Wuxian walk across a battlefield and stare down sect leaders and be harassed by a dozen uncles at once and surrounded by three screaming children and never has he seemed as out of sorts as he does right now.

He lifts up the brush and hesitates. “Is it okay – do you mind if I, is this okay?”

“Yes. You can touch me anywhere,” he says.

Wei Wuxian freezes, blinking rapidly before he swallows. “Oh. Kay.”

This is the best day of Lan Wangji’s life.

His husband steps closer, curling one hand around his bare shoulder to keep him steady and using the other to make small, sure brush strokes against the skin of his left side of his chest, right above his heart. He likes the symbolism. He also likes how Wei Wuxian’s blush doesn’t fade at all.

“There,” he says a few moments later. “Just give it time to dry and it should be fine for a week or so, then I’ll have to reapply. “

“Thank you,” he says, quirking his lips up at the corners when Wei Wuxian finally manages to look him in the eye

His returning grin is blinding. His eyes fall lower twice more before he leaves and Lan Wangji feels the low hum of satisfaction down his spine that he normally only gets from a particularly difficult spar.

His husband is capable of finding him attractive.

He just has to somehow encourage this behavior.

Twenty minutes later Meng Yao sticks his head into his room and demands, “What did you do to him?”

Lan Wangji pauses. Is he upset that he’s gotten Wei Wuxian’s attention? He never seems to mind Wen Ning, but perhaps that arrangement has already been settled between them and he sees Lan Wangji as an intrusion, regardless of his status.

“This is hilarious. Whatever it was, do it again,” he orders before continuing his way down the hall.

With pleasure.

#okay here's the thing #i did previously say i wasn't continuing this one because the post is so long now that it's cursed #and breaking it up at this point after all the scrolling i forced on other people just seems mean #sunken cost fallacy ect #HOWEVER #based on your emoji usage you are the anon that has asked for this for the last several open prompts #your dedication has won #i give in #here we are #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

[madcatlad]

Aaron Needs Friends

Having him be aloof and mysterious was cool for the first few adventures, but for the amount of time that Aaron was traveling with Aph he should have been making SOME sort of relationship with her squad. This man was present since BEFORE Garroth was lost to the Irene Dimension. Yet all anyone had to say about him was "I didn't know much about him" "he was a good man". The group didn't even need to know him all that well, or be super close. He didn't need to expose all his secrets or be particularly socialable. But you're telling me that during the span of time that Aaron was around the same people, all the time, risking their lives...and he didn't interact with them on a more personal level? He ONLY interacts with Aphmau. That just isn't human nature.

I vaguely remember multiple characters getting shamed or dismissed for being concerned about his intentions. But looking back that is completely valid! From Aph's perspective, Aaron is a good guy who had proved himself, and doesn't need to explain himself ever. From everyone else's perspective, he is a complete stranger, with vague intentions and questionable goals, who they have know for at least a year in close proximity but goes out of his way (quite literally every single time) to interact with NO ONE but Aphmau.

Suspicious Behavior. That or he seems rude. But their distrust of that kind of put out is not unbased. Especially when his past comes to light, yet he is still no more than a stranger, and shown to be purposefully secretive. Suspicious Behavior. But the cast is supposed to ignore all that because...? "He's a good guy" how would anyone else know that?

I mean he doesn't have to open up to them in great lengths and cry about his tragic life, but by time he died he should have had a surface level relationship with the main gang. More than never knowing jack about him as a person. Training/mentoring with Laurence, amicable acknowledgement with Garroth, maybe teasing flusterable Katelyn. A joke or two outside of Aphmau. Just any amount of relationship outside of Aphmau. Please.

Otherwise his mysteriousness becomes an archetype instead of characterization. And it became more of a hindrance to the story, especially later on.

Having Aaron never build relationships with anyone BUT Aphmau sets him aside in a way that is very odd. Aaron is essentially NOT a character, but a plot point. He only exists to advance the plot, add suspense, or subvert the plot. But he himself had no character- other than grief.

And it especially took away from the significance of his DEATH! When he died the only person really grieving HIM was Aphmau. Everyone was sad for HER. It made so Aph could be sad but - "oh nobody else understands my grief". While Aph was grieving nobody could really grieve with her. It isolated her in a way so jarring and disconnected from the story it felt more like a plot diversion than a plot point. And everyone just continued with their respective plots, yet the STORY had to come to a screeching HALT after Aaron's death because aph was mouring and she is quite literally OUR EYES.

There in lies the problem. NOBODY could mourn for Aaron, because he was a stranger. But HE DIED! He died without ever getting to grow or build new relationships as his story was clearly building up to do. HE DIED with no mourners! What kind of depressing precedent is that?!? "You don't need to grow past your grief, and build new relationships after great lost! You just need to be HOT and (somehow impregnate) the main character! Plot 😃".

What a Lackluster death for a character!! A main character!!! To be mourned by no one. It should have been Aaron's death that brought the story to a halt, the fact that they had lost HIM. Not that Aphmau had lost him.

Aaron's death should have affected the entire cast, or at least the main one who had traveled with him so long! Yet everyone else is allow to move on as they would because essentially they lost nothing.

Yeah, we were all sad when Aaron died as kids. Because Aphmau was sad (that scream was something else). And, yes, Aaron's death was sad. But imagine how devastating it would be if EVERYBODY knew him- to some capacity- if everyone mourned his passing. Imagine how much more significance it would bring to his SACRIFICE.

Aaron was a man with nothing to lose from DAY ONE. BUT HE STAYED THAT WAY! He never grew! What kind of sacrifice is it for a man with nothing to live for, no mortal ties, to sacrifice his life.

It dumbs down his death to in essence, achieve his ONLY goal in life: revenge, and make his girlfriend-not-girlfriend happy.

He A STRANGER. Not because HE necessarily wanted Garroth back, but because Aphmau wanted Garroth back. It doesn't work well. Aaron should have sacrificed himself for Garroth because HE wanted to, because HE cared for Garroth.

It objectified him in a sense. His decisions- his world revolves around Aphmau, and only her? (And Zane strangely enough). He has free will but his choices like agency, desire, depth. He's a means to and end, hardly a character. He experienced no growth, no change, no discomfort.

He only experienced pain and Aphmau. Tragic.

#minecraft diaries #mcd #aaron mcd #aaron lycan #aphblr #aphmau

[factorialsotherfandoms]

It's strange, waking up on the island and being told nothing. Cellbit only has to look to see that there are problems, but there's no messages asking for a private audience, nobody screaming in chat, nobody tracking him down... When he said he retired he wanted this, wanted the ability to just work on ripping the Federation seam from seam, with teeth and claws and hate.

He can't say he doesn't miss it, though.

Given what little he has been told by the few people he has run into, he doubts there's anything new in the Order. Still, he makes a point of going to look.

The doors squeak and the entrance is dusty, and it doesn't look like anyone has been here... In months, really.

The lights are on, though.

Cellbit pauses, and looks around. The trail of lights leads to the meeting room, but nobody called hello to him.

He grabs his knife.

Slowly, slowly, slowly...

He creeps around the corner, and immediately relaxes.

As to why Philza is sat in his chair, asleep with his head resting on folded arms, Cellbit has no idea. But, the man is asleep there, great black wings draped over his back.

Cellbit has seen them before, of course, in purgatory, but... But everyone had had access to wings, then, or at least more had - Fit's certainly aren't still there, and even then they look somehow... Bigger.

He tries not to stare - he knows people called Philza Old Crow, but he did not realise it was quite so literal - and steps over. It's a poor place to sleep, and even at Cellbit's age it messes with his back.

Touching people is, though, a terrible way to wake them up.

So instead Cellbit takes the seat opposite, and watches him a little.

"Hey Philza."

He doesn't so much as stir - Cellbit tries a few more times, before concluding he either risks getting stabbed, or just leaves Philza there.

Leaving him is, of course, the sensible option.

So Cellbit takes a pen out of his pocket, and pokes Philza in the forehead with the back end.

Three pokes and Philza still hasn't stirred, so Cellbit decides to risk it. He gets back up, and moves over to that side of the table.

Knowing his own strength he does not risk moving Philza far, instead just hoists him to Foolish's sofa. Even for Philza it's a little short, but at least his back is straight.

The whole activity does not even cause Philza to stir, and Cellbit is not sure if he should laugh or be worried, but he does know what else can be done; he slips through to the infirmary, stealing the blankets and pillow from one of the beds. The pillow he eases beneath Philza's cheek, and the blanket he drapes over him.

It doesn't quite hide his wings, but it does hide the rose clutched in his hand - Cellbit wonders who it might be from, to be held so tight and carefully. Missa, perhaps? If Roier gave him a rose, Cellbit would probably cling to it for just as long.

He turns to go, to turn out the lights and let the man sleep - there's nothing to do in the meeting room, and he can just work further away so the sound doesn't travel.

And then he spots a book, dropped on the floor amongst a dusting of black feathers. So many fell when Philza was moved, and Cellbit only hopes that that is normal behaviour.

He wouldn't know - he doesn't have wings.

Intending to just put the book on the table, Cellbit reaches down for it. It fell face down and splayed open; no book deserves such punishment, so he turns it over, and begins straightening the pages.

'Dear Cellbit' the first line reads and, well, Cellbit can stop pretending he isn't going to snoop there and then.

'Dear Cellbit' he reads again, and a mental check confirms Philza's handwriting. 'Shit's fucked. Sorry if I missed you, came here to wait as you're probably busy. I've left you some crap in a locked chest by the Cucurucho with the pompoms poster - you're on the allow list - just in case. Hope it helps.

'Hopefully someone's given you the rundown already, if not here's the short version - Luffy, little guy from Purgatory, showed up, told me the Feds were fucking torturing him (stuff in the evidence bag, ask me later for a sharestone if you want to see the originals). Eye workers showed up, demanded him, I was like nah mate, they're like give me 3 days or we kill Chayanne. They left, the Feds showed up, they lassoed me and kidnapped Luffy and the fucking eye bastards have been attacking us since. Chayanne's fine, not everyone is. Empanada - Bagi and Mouse and Tina and I can't actually remember's new egg - has lost a life to them already. Feds don't give a shit, but when have they ever? We tried looking for Luffy, but can't find him.

'The other new eggs are Sunny and Pepito. Sunny's Tubbo's and Pepito's Roier's - I think Pepito's claimed you too? - but you'd have to ask about the other parents. All three are great. Em likes candy, Sunny likes diamonds, Pepito likes pretending to be spiderman. Apparently they're from Purgatory and Cucurucho found them while rescuing our eggs? Who then spent a week in fucking hospital? They're okay now, but I swear to God Cucurucho's been on a PR kick or something recently.

'Roier is missing. You probably want to know Roier is missing. I have no fucking clue what's going on, just seen the posters Pepito left - Foolish has been watching Pepito, so check with them. He's been gone since a bit before Christmas and nobody seems to know shit.

'Oh right in some of the photos I have wings. People keep being confused by my wings. I'm not sure why, but I guess a quick explain. They were fucked, they healed during purgatory, they got fucked again rescuing Tubbo and myself from the nuke. As you do. They usually stay in the backpack as they're too weak to stay folded and dragging injured limbs in the mud is a shit plan. Getting a bit stronger, though, so been exercising them.

'Good news for once! Fit and Pac are dating - congratulate Richas on getting them together for me? I've only managed to catch Ramon. Like. Officially dating dating, not whatever was going on before.

'Something about a worker named Elena getting arrested? And Cucurucho being missing but a different one spying on us? Ask Bagi, she told me.

'New way to do our governmental obligations to stop them murdering our kids, get someone to run you through the new egg quest system, any day I have time I'll leave what you need in the crate next to the baker. It makes sense I swear.

'Okay no it's fucking bullshit, but it's a Fed project what do you expect?

'Missa came back! He's not been about for long and I missed him :( but Chayanne managed to convince him out of the goat pen and back with the rest of us and they were attacked by a talking rat with a gun demanding they rob the store for fortnite cheese. Always the most cursed shit for him.

'What else... I've been having weird fucked up dreams, Fit made me promise to tell you. Mostly worked it out, though. But if I vanish and you find a weird purple portal do /not/ under any circumstances go through it. Don't lick black voidrocks either. And don't let anybody else. You'll know what I mean if you see it. There's a rose in the evidence bag. It's a protection charm, nothing else, but I'd feel better knowing you had it. Please humour me and carry it?

'There's also something about Naked Slenderman? Ask Mike. Have seen it, have left you a photo, it's fucking creepy but fuck only knows what's going on there.

'Glad to have you back, mate, sorry about the bullshit, had some leftover coffee from an egg quest so it's in the chest as an apology. Need to just hang out sometime without all this mess.

'Miss you, welcome back, shit only got more cursed in your absence lol,

'Philza.'

Cellbit isn't sure whether to laugh or cry; he's supposed to be retired, and now his husband is missing and the island is under attack and who even knows what the rest of this means. Nobody else has told him shit worth knowing when they always used to do so, a forgetting or a broken trust or /something/, and yet here Philza is telling him who to talk to, a bag of photos still in hand.

Cellbit is supposed to be retired.

He still goes straight to the Federation worker charts, finishing reading as he walks, and finding the chest.

There's a stack of coffee in there, and he immediately takes a cup. Philza's kinda crap at brewing the stuff, but coffee is coffee and it's warm.

And also the bag.

There's a note saying he can keep it, everything filed into the neat little rows - and, yes, the Naked Slenderman looks extremely cursed and Cellbit's probably a little murdery to approach Mike so good luck to him - with everything from just cute photos of Richas in the time he missed to a whole series of books and photographs about Luffy and the Eye Workers.

True to form, Philza has even left notes in a few places. Notes!

Cellbit's supposed to be retired, but... There's no harm in at least keeping track of it, surely? And if Philza happens to show him somewhere relevant, or someone else brings problems to him...

Roier first. Fuck, Roier. Roier first and pray it's not punishment for the murders. Save Roier, save Richas, find out what the hell is going on, then fuck shit up some more.

Philza really doesn't have anything on what happened to Roier, just a copy of a poster drawn in a very young hand, and an instruction to talk to Pepito and Foolish.

Foolish is on, though, so...

Cellbit sends him a message, slips the rose from the bag to his pocket, and remembers to breathe.

He'll thank Philza when he sees him - for now he has a husband to save.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp philza #qsmp cellbit #thank jazzical1914 for the idea though it swayed far off path #i'm not sure i like either the start or the end but I love the letter #so here you go

[we-do-be-writing]

Spin the Bottle (with Forehead Kisses)

Twisted Wonderland!Dorm Leaders x Reader

A/N: Some of these are longer than others and that is solely because I felt like some of the housewardens would need more convincing and more back story for the whole thing to actually make sense.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Somehow Riddle was sucked into playing a game of spin the bottle at Ramshackle dorm with the rest of the dorm leaders. Honestly, he was more shocked at how you managed to convince him, let alone some of the other dorm leaders, to show up.

You had come to him earlier in the week with the offer of joining you and the other dorm leaders at Ramshackle for a sleepover of sorts. Riddle was fully prepared to reject this offer, but Trey happened to be listening in and told him that it may be a good "bonding time" and that he deserved "a night away from being a housewarden."

So, now he was sitting in a circle with the rest of the dorm leaders in the middle of Ramshackle's lounge area. You had proposed a game of spin the bottle, something many of the dorm leaders were dreading. Unfortunately, Kalim's joyful energy pulled everyone together and soon they had all agreed to play.

Luckily, Riddle has not had a turn yet and he so far has not been at the receiving end of someone else's turn. However, his luck seems to have run out as you spin the bottle, and it stops facing him.

If he were in a different situation, Riddle would probably be happy to receive a kiss from his crush. Instead, he was about to have his first kiss with the person he likes in front of the other dorm leaders because of some stupid game.

Somehow, you appear to have noticed his unease because as you sit in front of him and take his face into your hands, you do something unexpected. With Riddle's cheeks already burning from the close proximity, you tilt his head down and give him a soft kiss on the forehead.

All of the breath is sucked from Riddle's lungs as he stares wide-eyed at the Ramshackle prefect. You slowly back away from him, give him a kind smile, then return to your previous spot in the circle.

He can feel the burning sensation of a blush all over his face, even traveling down his neck. Tears almost spring to his eyes from the absolute softness and care that you just showed him. Through one simple kiss on the forehead, Riddle has been reduced to a puddle of emotions.

He chokes a little once his lungs inform him that he has stopped breathing. He takes a deep breath in and suddenly his senses start picking things up again. Some of the other dorm leaders can be heard laughing at him, others look just as shocked as he does, and others either look like they couldn't care less (Leona) or they look like they're going to burst from excitement (Kalim).

Riddle's face burns even brighter as his senses come back to him, but all he can do is look at your smiling face and wonder what that tender kiss meant, and if he could believe that you might like him back.

Leona Kingscholar:

The only reason Leona was sitting in this circle of dorm leaders is because you happened to catch him at his 'weakest' moment, when he was sleeping. He had to admit, sometimes you surprised him with how well thought-out your plans could be. For example, managing to convince him to agree with whatever you asked simply because you had just woken him from a deep sleep.

For a while he was convinced that you had put a spell on him because somehow, Leona managed to always feel safe and comfortable enough around you to fall asleep. The fact that you had no problem using this to your advantage only furthered his suspicions. It was only after seeing you play Spelldrive where you could not use an ounce of magic that he started rethinking his theory.

You had found one of these opportunities the day before this current dorm leader event you had organized. Waking Leona up was the hard part, but once you had achieved that it was quite easy to get the drowsy beastman to agree solely because he knew you would let him go back to sleep sooner. Which you generously did, because then he might be a little less miserable when you remind him about the plans he promised to attend.

Of course, letting him go back to sleep the day before did not help to reduce the amount of despise Leona was expressing as he sat in the circle of dorm leaders. He would have instantly rejected you once you told him about the agreement from the day before, but he couldn't bring himself to break a promise. Thus, you had happily dragged him to Ramshackle dorm where he threatened anyone who dare laugh at his predicament.

So far, Leona has managed to avoid receiving or giving any kisses during the game. However, it is now your turn to spin the bottle and it just so happens that it would stop facing him. Honestly, he was half-asleep by this point, and he barely registers you moving over to sit in front of him.

He twitches a little when he feels your hand brush through his bangs, moving them aside before you press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Leona slowly opens his eyes, locking his gaze onto yours. He wears a small grin as he sees the blush dusting your skin, ignoring his own that threatens to creep up his neck.

He continues to keep eye-contact with you, not moving until you go to return to your seat. His hands flash from his side to your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace. His arms lock around you, only allowing enough movement so that you can face the rest of the dorm leaders.

Vil suggests that you lot should play a different game which everyone agrees to. Leona nods his head before resting his forehead against your shoulder, trying to ignore the lingering feeling of your lips.

Azul Ashengrotto:

Surprisingly, Azul was not having too bad of a time at your gathering of the dorm leaders in Ramshackle. It did take a little convincing before he agreed to show up, and a tiny deal. The idea came from Floyd and Jade as they were lingering around when you invited him.

They pointed out that Azul could make bets for favors with the other dorm leaders, which were not considered contracts. As long as he worded the bets correctly, there would be a high chance of him winning each one. So, he told you that he would join in as long as there were opportunities where he could propose bets.

You assured him that games could be included, and if he could manage to find something to bet about, then he would be welcome to. Azul speculated that you had doubts about his ability to successfully get the other dorm leaders to take his bets. Or his ability to find something that would make sense to bet about.

Well, he will admit that a game of spin the bottle wasn't the ideal when it comes to betting. But he refuses to have come here and leave with no one owing him a favor. Luckily for Azul, when he proposed making things interesting by placing bets, Kalim was a willing participant. He notices that Malleus' interest was also piqued by the idea, but he had refrained from truly joining in on the bets.

Nonetheless, as long as Azul could get away with some profit from the bets of tonight, he would be happy. What he did not expect was for Kalim to bet on him.

"I bet," Kalim starts, "that when the bottle lands on Azul and he is kissed, he will blush."

Azul, and some others, scoff at this because of course his composure would never crack like that. Azul didn't even like admitting to himself that his confident personality was only a facade. So, there was no way he would allow it to break in front of the other dorm leaders, some who would be happy to try and exploit this weakness.

"Oh please," Azul responds, "that would never happen, at least bet on something believable. For example, I bet that before anyone can even get close enough to kiss Idia, he will either back out or faint."

Many of the dorm leaders nod in agreement at this, even Idia moves his head slightly. For a second, Kalim looks thoughtful, but one look at you has him shaking his head before speaking to Azul,

"How about this, I will accept your bet that Idia will faint before someone gets close enough to kiss him, if you accept my bet that you will blush when you get kissed."

Azul ponders this for a couple seconds before responding, "Okay, if Idia faints then I win and if he doesn't then you win. Following that, if I blush when someone kisses me, which is ridiculous, then you win and if I do not then I win."

Kalim nods in agreement, holding his hand out while saying, "You have a deal ... well I guess actually you have two deals."

Azul shakes his hand with a confident smile gracing his lips. There is absolutely no way he would be losing either of these bets, and having Kalim owe him two favors is exactly what he was looking for. Well, he will admit that while the probability of Idia fainting is high, it is not a guarantee. So, he'll have to play his cards right to make sure Idia cannot back out of the game. Yes, this is a little cruel on Azul's part, but Kalim had already set the terms and there was no going back now.

Unfortunately, there is another unforeseen circumstance that Azul has to face. It is your turn to spin the bottle and who else would it land on if not him. He didn't want to admit this, but there could be one single person who may potentially cause him to blush. Of course, that person had to be the one crawling over to his side of the circle.

Azul had grown a liking to you over time after you had helped him in the beginning of the school year. The way you treated him with genuine kindness and didn't try to use him for granting wishes made him open up to you easier. However, he still hadn't truly let you in on his self-confidence issues, and he was not looking forward to you finding out now because of some stupid game.

You leaned into his field of view, trying to catch his attention back to the present instead of deep in his thoughts. He quickly regained his composure and replaced his uncertain expression with one of assurance, maybe even a little false cockiness.

You took this as your sign to continue, so you carefully placed your hands on his cheeks. The warmth from your hands helped to calm the racing in his chest. Your gentle smile also kept him from showing any visible reaction.

Honestly, he thinks that he may actually be able to get through this without blushing in the slightest. But, instead of leaning in to kiss him on the lips, you go a little farther up and plant a sweet kiss on his forehead. Now Azul has been caught completely off guard and he's not entirely sure how to control his emotions at the moment.

He feels your lips linger on his forehead before you pull away, brushing your fingers against his cheekbones. He's officially done for when you glance down to his lips before retreating completely back to your spot in the circle.

Azul can't even tell if he's blushing or not as he feels heat spread all through his body. Suddenly, Kalim snaps his fingers in front of his face, and he is once again returned to the present. Kalim's face is one of pure excitement, but he says something that Azul does not expect.

"Listen, because I'm such a nice guy, and because Vil told me what's going on, I'm gonna give you a pass on this bet. However, you must promise no interference when it's Idia's turn."

Based on what Kalim is saying, Azul assumes that he doesn't even want to see how red he is right now. His eyes travel to you and when you send him a little wave, he responds in a slight whisper,

"I promise."

Kalim Al-Asim

It took absolutely no convincing from you to get Kalim to agree to join your little dorm leader hangout night. Granted, he would probably agree to anything you asked of him ever since he's realized how much he truly likes you. Instead, you both would have to work together to convince Jamil. Surprisingly, it didn't take too much time to get Jamil to agree. All you had to do was promise him that you wouldn't leave Ramshackle, you wouldn't put Kalim in any danger, and you would update him periodically throughout the night.

It also didn't take any convincing to get him to join in the game of spin the bottle. In fact, he helped you convince the rest of the dorm leaders to play. Of course, Jamil wasn't the happiest when he heard what game was currently going to be played, but he agreed it was safe enough.

So, this is where you all are now, sitting in a circle with a bottle in the center. Honestly, Kalim is having the time of his life being able to have a sleepover with the other dorm leaders. He only wishes that Jamil could have joined him.

As of now, it hasn't been Kalim's turn and the bottle hasn't landed on him yet. He will admit that he is getting a little antsy waiting for the bottle to finally land on him. Luckily, he doesn't have to wait much longer as you give it a firm spin and it stops facing him.

He's almost vibrating with excitement as you crawl over to him and settle with your knees touching his legs. He gives you a blinding smile, very happy that it would be you kissing him. Kalim's joy is infectious, and you can't help letting out a laugh before you begin to lean in.

Kalim quickly closes his eyes, waiting with bated breath for your lips to meet his. However, he feels the pressure of your lips softly touch his forehead. You press your lips a little harder for a brief moment and then fully retreat and settle back in front of him.

His eyes open slowly, and his smile is so wide it starts to hurt his cheeks which feel unusually warm. His fingers go up to softly brush against the same spot you just kissed.

"Maybe we can keep this little moment from Jamil." You suggest with a shy smile and soft voice.

"Are you kidding," Kalim starts before giving you a kiss on the cheek, "I have to tell him my dream has come true."

Vil Schoenheit

Convincing Vil to leave his dorm for the night to join the rest of the dorm leaders in a time of 'bonding and fun,' as you put it, is very difficult. He has to make sure everyone in Pomefiore is following their nightly routine and going to bed at the appropriate time and a bunch of other things you didn't listen to.

"Excuses, excuses." You mutter. Vil scoffs at this, unimpressed with your attempts to persuade him.

"Hmmm," he hums, "I may accept your offer, if you allow me to create a Pomefiore worthy skin and hair care routine. You have been persistent in spending time with Epel and trying to spend time with me and I cannot have a self-care slacker being associated with us. Also, you must agree to be my personal guineapig when I need to test new products, new trends, new clothes, etc."

Vil wears a small, amused smile as he waits for your answer. Of course, whatever skin or hair care routine you try would never be considered 'Pomefiore worthy' unless Vil was the one who created it. Although, you suppose it wouldn't be horrible to get a free, top tier self-care routine. Plus, even though being Vil's personal guineapig would take up a chunk of your time, you know he wouldn't be putting you in anything ridiculous. At least, you hope he wouldn't, but he is very serious about fashion which does put your mind at ease.

Vil quickly grows tired of your contemplating. He will admit to himself that he would be happy if you agreed because while it would help him to have someone to test things on, it also would give him an excuse to spend more time with you. He only added in the self-care routine because he wants you to have the best when it comes to keeping your skin and hair healthy. He'll worry about the eating habits at a later date, not wanting to ask too much of you too soon.

"I will give you five more seconds to think before I turn and leave without going to your little housewarden get together." Vil says, putting a hand on his hip and he looks at you.

"Fine, I guess your terms aren't too demanding. I will allow you to create a self-care routine for me and I will be your personal guineapig for fashion testing." You respond, holding your hand out for him to shake. Vil gives you a tiny smile as he gently shakes your hand, only slightly dreading the night he has ahead of him with the other dorm leaders.

He shows up 'fashionably late' because he had to attend to his specific duties as Pomefiore's housewarden. Now, as he sits in a circle with a bottle in the middle, he's regretting his choice to show up at this specific time. You and Kalim have just managed to convince the other dorm leaders to play a game of spin the bottle. Unfortunately, Vil's timing means he doesn't get a say and is automatically forced to join in.

All the others make you go first, since it was technically your idea. You have no problems with this, spinning the bottle and watching it turn. Vil subtly keeps his eye on the bottle, trying to seem disinterested. However, when the bottle lands facing him, it takes a little more focus to keep his expression neutral.

You crawl over to Vil and sit in front of him. He sees you glance down at his lips, which has a fresh layer of colored chapstick. You softly cup his chin with one hand, running your thumb along the edge of his bottom lip.

Vil can't tell what he wants you to do, part of him wanting you to kiss him and part of him not wanting to have the effects of his lip mask messed up by your lips. It's almost like you can see the hesitation in his eyes, and in response you give him a soft smile.

You lean in closer and Vil can't help but let his eyes flutter closed. He almost hates the way his mind flows into daydreams of you kissing him and he imagines how perfect it will be. However, he's taken aback when he feels your lips press against his forehead.

He takes a silent, shuddery breath as you linger for an extra second before pulling back. You keep your face close to his, and Vil has to take a second to collect himself and replace his mask of nonchalance. Once you see that he's regained his composure, you back up and return to your seat, giving him a little sly smile.

Even though it wasn't exactly what he imagined, Vil has to admit that this was a fairytale worthy kiss. He only hopes that he gets to share many more with you in the near future.

Idia Shroud

Idia hates the way you've managed to learn so much about him, and how you've got Ortho campaigning for you. He will admit that most of the time, he does agree to things once Ortho expresses interest. However, there was absolutely no way Ortho's persuasion alone was going to convince him to join you in your little sleepover with the other housewardens. Not even promising the presence of a video game competition could persuade his decision.

Unfortunately, it seems like you're aware of this based on the small frown you try to hide. Idia shifts in his gaming chair, trying to keep his eyes on his computer and his hair from exposing how flustered he is.

"Fine, I really didn't want to do this Idia, for my own sake, but you've left me no choice."

Your words send shivers of dread through him, and he can't help but imagine the worst possible sentence that might come out of your mouth. He feels confusion seep into his body and replace the settling dread at what you say next,

"I am willing to send you my max level, top-tier, five-star character that you have been begging me for since I got it during the once per year event last month, if you come to my sleepover."

Idia's mouth drops open in shock and he has to take a couple minutes to process your proposal. Honestly, out of all the extremes he expected you to go to, he never thought you would be willing to part with this character. You had spent almost a week and just about all of your items trying to get this particular character, and Idia was right there with you.

He doesn't want to admit it, but he did throw quite the fit when you somehow got it right before the event ended. He also would like to argue that he has not spent the time since begging you to give it to him in exchange for, as he now regrets claiming, anything. Now, he is faced with the dilemma of whether or not he truly wants this character enough for him to sit for a night with all the other dorm leaders.

"You said that you would do anything to get this character, and I am willing to part with it so long as you show up to Ramshackle dorm in person and participate in this get together." You say, looking down at Idia who continues to stare at his computer screen in silence.

When he doesn't respond for a couple minutes, you say something else which really triggers competitive video game nature, "I mean, I guess you must not be as serious about this game as I thought. I think you'd be more willing to accept my offer if you were."

You had to know that this was a low blow on your part, and Idia is a little offended that you would go after his commitment to a game you know he has spent countless hours playing. However, he also can't help but wonder why you were so caught up on whether or not he agreed to spend a night in the company of the other dorm leaders.

So, with a deep-set frown and glaring eyes, Idia agrees to your deal. Which is how he has ended up sitting in a circle of housewardens playing spin the bottle. Now, if he could have passed this specific game then he most certainly would have. Unfortunately, Azul claims he would have dragged the fiery-haired boy 'kicking and screaming, if necessary.'

Idia had almost forgotten about his embarrassing slip-up at board game club, when he accidently revealed to Azul the massive crush he was harboring on you since the moment you decided to become online friends with him. Ever since, Azul has been using club meeting time to try and convince Idia to confess, even if it was over a message board.

His attention is brought back to reality at the sound of a couple dorm leaders snickering to themselves. Looking to the bottle in the center of the group, Idia is horrified to find that it is facing him. He freezes as he realizes that he has no idea who has just spun the bottle.

As you begin to crawl over to his side of the circle, Idia stops breathing and he looks over at Azul with wide eyes. You stop in front of him, and he refuses to meet your eyes. He has a slightly visible shake and out the corner of his eyes he can see your worried expression.

"Here Idia, there's no worries, and no pushing you too far." You whisper to him and he's not sure he would have heard it if your face wasn't so close to his. He still doesn't look at you, but he gives you a miniscule nod of trust which makes you smile wide.

He can't help but tense up as you move closer to him, also acutely aware of the fact that his hair is emitting a flaming heat and has an almost pink ombre look to it now. Once again, you leave him in shock as your lips gently press against his forehead instead of his lips.

Idia can feel himself get lightheaded for a second, but he's brought back to one of your hands holding his shoulder and the other cupping his face. You give him a soft smile before turning around and sitting down in front of him, blocking the others' view of him.

Azul gives him a small, knowing smile, and Idia curls in on himself a little more. He rests his forehead against the back of your neck, and he hopes you don't mind the warmth of his hair. He can't find the confidence to wrap his arms around your waist like he wants, but he settles on twisting his hands into the bottom of your pajama shirt.

As you rejoin the conversation, Idia closes his eyes and takes his first proper breath since you first started crawling over to him. He lets the sound of your voice and rhythm of your heart keep him from floating into his imagination, because right now he just wants to be with you.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is already ecstatic that you wanted him to join your party of dorm leaders, even more so that you remembered to invite him. He always enjoys spending time with you and telling you fun facts about gargoyles as he sits outside Ramshackle dorm. He cannot imagine wanting to do anything else besides staying the night in Ramshackle with you by his side, even if the other housewardens happened to be there.

Unfortunately, Sebek is not prepared to let Malleus stay in another dorm without him and Silver there for protection. He honestly could not believe the audacity you had to think that the Young Master would be able to go somewhere without his bodyguards, especially if Leona Kingscholar was there.

You try to reassure him that Leona wouldn't bother Malleus and that everyone was instructed to be civil during this get together. Even Malleus tried to reassure him that he could take care of himself for one night, but Sebek was not budging. You had the slight desire to tell him that Malleus already left Diasomnia during the night to stand with you outside Ramshackle dorm. However, this would most likely lead to Sebek trying to sleep in the same room as Malleus, so you kept it to yourself.

Silver was also not overly excited at the invitation you extended to Malleus, solely because having to protect him during the night would cut into precious sleep time. You knew that they were just doing their jobs, but sometimes you just wished they would trust you with their Young Master a little more.

Malleus suggested to you privately that he could just sneak out like he always did, and you agreed to this as a last resort. It seems like you really wanted to get his bodyguards permission, so as to not end up on the end of Sebek's wrath in case he somehow discovered that Malleus left during the night. It also appears that you have a growing friendship with Sebek that you did not want to tarnish.

"What if Sebek and Silver guarded Malleus from outside Ramshackle dorm, and at the end of the festivities they can all come back to Diasomnia." Lilia suggests.

Silver immediately glares to show his distaste at the idea, and you didn't seem too keen on it either. Malleus would prefer to be with you, and the other dorm leaders he supposes, without the constant watch of his bodyguards. He wants to experience what he would assume to be an at least somewhat usual college party, which does not include Sebek and Silver. On the other hand, he also didn't want to squander this opportunity as he might not get another chance.

"Fine," Malleus sighs with a tired smile, "I supposed that is a workable compromise."

Sebek seems to blank for a millisecond before loudly expressing his agreement to the idea. You and Silver exchanged glances, then reluctantly agreed as well. Even if this isn't what you all expected, Malleus gives you a warm smile that you can't help but return.

He shows up to Ramshackle dorm with Sebek and Silver in tow and instructs them to stand guard at the entrance. He then slinks inside and joins the group of housewardens who are discussing what they want to do first. You bound into the room with an empty bottle and show it to Kalim as you whisper something. Immediately, Kalim nods his head in excitement before calling for everyone's attention.

"We're going to play spin the bottle!" He cheers.

Everyone else seems to respond with groans of disagreement or grunts of confusion. Malleus isn't sure how he's supposed to respond, mostly because he's not entirely sure what this game entails. Nonetheless, he's happy that he's here and that he's being invited to play.

You briefly explain the game to everyone, for which Malleus is very thankful. Although a little confusing when it comes to the point of the game, it seems straightforward enough. Malleus settles in the circle of dorm leaders on the opposite side of you. Kalim offers to go first and when the bottle lands on Riddle, he scooches over and plants a kiss on the Heartslabyul's lips. Instantly Riddle turns an astonishing color of red and he seems to have to restrain himself from collaring Kalim in that moment.

To take the attention away from Riddle, you spin the bottle and Malleus watches with great interest as it stops facing in his direction. He believes that he's supposed to wait for you to approach him, which you waste no time doing as you crawl over. He lets his mouth part slightly as you move in closer.

Your fingers travel up his sharp jawline to the bottom of his ears, then they softly brush against the pointed tips. Malleus feels a shudder roll through his body and has to fight to suppress it from showing too much. You smile knowingly before tracing further up to the base of his horns and you trace around them.

Malleus isn't sure if you mean this in the same intimate way that he is imagining, but he doesn't tell you to stop either way. He's silently loving the feeling of your fingers exploring around his head and his eyes flutter closed as you travel back down and cup his jaw. He feels you move closer and waits impatiently for your lips to meet his.

However, you tilt his head down slightly and kiss the center of his forehead instead. You linger there for a second before releasing him from your hands and backing away slightly. He opens his eyes at the loss of contact and notices the tingly feeling that's left where your lips were just pressed.

"How about we don't tell Sebek about this, I can't imagine the way he would react." You murmur to him, and he can't help but smile at your words.

"Agreed." He whispers back, keeping the fact that he's most definitely telling Lilia about this, for advice on the next step, to himself.

You retreat back into your spot in the circle, giving Malleus a smile before you turn your attention back to the game. On the other side of the circle, Malleus can still feel your fingers running over his head, your hands on his jaw, and your lips pressed against his forehead. He gazes lovingly at you, and he's starting to think it'll be a long night for his bodyguards waiting outside.

#twisted wonderland imagine #twst imagine #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #x reader #reader insert #riddle rosehearts imagine #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar imagine #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto imagine #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim imagine #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit imagine #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud imagine #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia imagine #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia

[atamascolily]

There's a game I play as a writer that I call "Story Problems" -- I'll stop an episode or a movie halfway to three-quarters of the way through and try to sketch the ending I think the writers have in mind based on what I've seen thus far. Obviously, this is much easier with self-contained mysteries and ten-minute one-shot children's cartoons than extended dramas, but through regular practice, I've learned to pay attention to all the clues dropped in the exposition and how seemingly unrelated details are woven together into a coherent narrative whole.

Some people use the term "Chekhov's gun" for these hints, but I prefer "set-up and payoff". No matter what you call them, writing is essentially a sleight-of-hand performance, where the writer tell the audience exactly what they're going to do while simultaneously distracting them so that they're too busy focusing on other things to notice until the big reveal.

All this is a roundabout way of saying I've spent a lot of time thinking about the "story problem" represented by Walpurgis no Kaiten and how it might unfold.

First and most importantly, why bring Walpurgisnacht back in the first place? What role can a seemingly defeated witch (however mysterious) have in PMMM going forward? What are we, the audience, missing that would allow us to make sense of this? What in her story remains incomplete or unaddressed?

I sympathize with those who wanted Walpurgisnacht's nature to remain a mystery, but I think that ship sailed the moment SHAFT decided to bring her back for the sequel. If indeed Walpurgisnacht is returning--and why name the movie after her if she isn't?--then she must be somehow connected in some way to the main cast beyond her role in the original series as the Final Boss, or else why even bother?

(Seriously, if SHAFT wanted Walpurgisnacht's presence to be a surprise, they could have titled the movie literally ANYTHING else, but they didn't. That was a deliberate choice on their part, so I not only assume that Walpurgisnacht must be important somehow--central, even--but the big twist is not THAT she returns, but HOW and WHY.)

Cut to several years of radio silence after the initial announcement, giving me plenty of time to think. One night in the fall of 2022, the following conversation played out in my head unprompted:

Brain: Hahahaha, you know what, I bet they're really going with the whole 'Homura is Walpurgisnacht' twist after all! "L'audace, l'audace, toujours l'audace", and all that. Plus, can you imagine how angry this will make people on Reddit? Me: Okay, but why are you telling me this NOW?

Brain:

Me: crying You sick son of a bitch.

To be fair, improbable plot summaries have something of a history in this franchise--if I were to travel back to 2012 and tell people that Homura becomes a witch and traps everyone in her labyrinth and then turns into the Devil, I don't think many people would have believed THAT either until it played out in front of them. But this one was particularly disheartening because the "Homura is Walpurgisnacht" theory*--which was initially popular when the series was released--was seemingly discredited in Rebellion with the appearance of Homura's witch Homulilly. To say otherwise was going to be one hell of a hard sell for a lot of people.

(*I know, I know, I know, Walpurgisnacht is a composite super-witch made of multiple entities, but I need a shorthand way of describing it, even if it's not as technically accurate, so bear with me here.)

But even though my assertion seemed counterintuitive on the surface, I was convinced that it would eventually prove to be the case for several reasons:

1) Another game I like to play as a writer is called "The Worst Thing That Could Possibly Happen" (alternate title: "Put That Character In A Situation"). Essentially, I try to imagine what would hurt/challenge the characters the most for maximum drama or effect, and then I make it happen. Based on Homura's history and her relationship with Walpurgisnacht, what would be the worst thing that could possibly happen re: Walpurgisnacht's return?

Well, given how much Homura has invested in protecting Madoka from this witch--from reliving the same month hundreds of times over to becoming the self-proclaimed embodiment of evil just to make a world where Madoka could be happy--the worst thing that could happen to Homura would be that she discovers that everything she's done, all that she's fought and sacrificed for, has led directly to the one thing she's been trying to prevent this whole time: the (re?)creation of Walpurgisnacht herself.

In other words, this tweet:

I mentioned my theory to someone recently, and their response (paraphrased) was that they felt the original series had already covered this particular form of dramatic irony and they hoped WnK would go in a different direction. Fair enough, but this is a series that thrives on revisiting the same scenes from different angles, to the point of a shot-for-shot remake of Madoka with her family at the beginning of Rebellion to mirror the original series! So just because they've done similar things before doesn't mean it's necessarily off the table in the future--to me, that makes it even more likely, actually. And frankly, I think some amount of revisiting the past was inevitable the moment SHAFT decided they were bringing Walpurgisnacht back in the first place.

Given PMMM's obsession with cycles and repetition, I'd go one step further and make it worse: not only are Homura's actions what bring Walpurgisnacht back, these same actions are what lead to all the Walpurgisnachts in the past, so that Homura created the very monster who killed Madoka and caused Homura herself to become a magical girl in the first place. Essentially, Homura becomes her own ancestor in a massive time loop/bootstrap paradox with no beginning and no end (or at least, that's how it seems at first--I doubt that's where the story TRULY ends, though it would make for one hell of a cliffhanger).

It would be bad enough if Homura directly or indirectly created Walpurgisnacht AND created a time loop, but you know what would make the situation EVEN WORSE? What if the enemy that Homura had been fighting for so long wasn't some other external force outside of her, but her own SELF-- if Homura not only created her own enemy, but also WAS that enemy, too, becoming the thing she feared and hated the most? I've talked in my previous posts about how PMMM excels at making the metaphorical literal, as well as its proclivity for turning characters into their opposites, so this would be a logical next step in that direction.

Given that Gen Urobuchi's nickname is "the Urobutcher", I think it's safe to say he knows how to make characters suffer. Thus, I'd be deeply surprised if he doesn't play the same game that I do--and if so, he might draw similar conclusions to the ones I've outlined above.

2) A major twist in every installment thus far has been that Homura is not who or what we think she is--first a time traveler, then a witch, then the Devil. If this pattern continues, what new revelations would surprise us about Homura? In order for the story to continue, it's likely that she must grow and change beyond her Devil persona--what might that look like? A transformation into the massive super-witch that was her enemy would certainly answer both questions and then some, although it may not be the answer people want.

(If nothing else, Homura will likely have at least one new outfit in Walpurgis no Kaiten so that SHAFT can sell the merchandise, lol.)

3) Not only do Homura's actions drive the plot of PMMM, the franchise is deeply concerned with her emotional life, and she is the center around which everything revolves (although this is not always immediately apparent due to the way each installment is structured). Thus, it's likely that Homura's relationship with Walpurgisnacht is both central to the plot and deeply personal--and what could be more personal than this?

4) In a show with excellent visual design, where every detail is selected with care, and usually means something (even if that meaning is not immediately apparent), there are far too many visual and narrative parallels between Homura and Walpurgisnacht to be a coincidence. Having the two be connected in this fashion would explain all of this in a concise and satisfying manner.

5) One of the things I admire about PMMM from a storytelling perspective is how efficient it is--every character and detail has a purpose, and nothing is wasted. Having Homura be/become Walpurgisnacht is not the ONLY way to establish a connection between them, but it is undeniably the simplest and the most efficient from a purely technical angle, as it only involves one character the audience already knows and cares about vs. adding an entirely new entity to the mix.

That was my answer to the story problem of "What is Walpurgis no Kaiten about?" in late 2022, based solely on the limited information available to me (i.e.m the title of the movie + everything that has come before). But while it seemed abundantly clear to me--almost inevitable--that Homura would somehow become Walpurgisnacht, I didn't have a good explanation for HOW this might come about beyond "timey-wimey reality-bending and/or multiverse shenanigans"--which, while adequate for my purposes, was not enough evidence to convince others of my argument, and so I let the matter rest.

Then the key visual dropped in September 2023, and I burst out laughing the instant I saw the second Homura, because I knew how SHAFT was going to solve the problem that had stumped me: one Homura would create/become Walpurgisnacht and the other would attempt to stop her (and probably fail, at least at first).

Homura is such a complex and multi-faceted character, I think it's a bit simplistic to say that one of the pair will be purely good and the other evil. Suffice to say there will be one Homura that we're rooting for (the one with ribbons) and one that we're probably not rooting for (the one with the headband) and leave it at that for now.

I'll freely admit that I still don't fully understand the mechanics of how and why there are two Homuras or how Walpurgisnacht arises from the actions of one or both of them, but I don't need to: everything we need to know is contained within the framing of that key visual. Homura will be the source of all her problems in this movie; that's all that matters. Everything else is details--delicious, to be sure, and I look forward to analyzing them in great detail, but the core (heh) conflict of the movie is already apparent.

Of course, you could make the argument that my original gut feeling was wrong because the second Homura doesn't "count" as Homura. To me, that's semantic hair-splitting--for my purposes, if she looks like Homura and is voiced by Chiwa Saito and retains all of Homura's powers, abilities, and associated symbolism, then she IS Homura in all the way that really matter, but I'm sure people can and will disagree with me on that. In the end, when it comes to PMMM, it's Homura all the way down--and I think Walpurgis no Kaiten will make that literal before the end.

(not gonna lie, the idea that all the Clara Dolls turn into Homuras too, so that Walpurgisnacht is made up of nothing but Homuras is pretty delicious--but so is the idea of the doppelganger Homura somehow hijacking or corrupting the Law of Cycles, which we know is full of witches, and turning it to her own ends. Or both, both is good, too!)

I know a lot of people hate the "Homura is Walpurgisnacht" theory, but I think it keeps popping up for a reason, and will continue to do so until Walpurgis no Kaiten finally gives us sufficient information to either make it canon or lay it to rest for good. Personally, I love the idea--as a quick browse through my "#vein of gold" tag will attest, I love when characters are forced to confront their shadow selves, their dark sides, and their doubles; I love when the call is coming from inside the house. For me, Homura becoming Walpurgisnacht wouldn't be cliche or boring, it would be a plot twist that would explain everything we've seen to date while simultaneously re-framing it, making it a Greek tragedy of incredible proportions. And a lot of people hated the whole "Homura becomes the Devil" twist when Rebellion came out, so why should Walpurgis no Kaiten be any different in this regard?

One of the things that I love about this franchise is that it's never been afraid to go big and bold and cosmic while simultaneously remaining deeply personal--and solidifying the connections between Homura and Walpurgisnacht would be all of those things at once and then some. I don't know why this particular idea has captured me, or why I feel so strongly about it, but in the end, I don't have any inside information, just an intuition that refuses to let go.

Ultimately, I suspect whether you like this theory or not comes down to whether you think the primary conflict of Madoka Magica is external (characters battling an enemy outside of themselves) or internal (characters battling an enemy within). My gut feeling is that Walpurgis no Kaiten will be an internal battle playing out on an external stage, essentially making this a "both/and" situation, and it will revisit many elements of both the original series and Rebellion while simultaneously breaking new ground.

It may well be that Urobuchi and SHAFT have a different answer to this particular story problem than the one I've outlined here--but if so, I can't see it. In the end, all I can do is imagine the story that I would write based on the clues I've been given, which may or may not be the same as the one they are planning. We'll find out if there's any truth at all to my intuitions or if I'm barking up the wrong tree when the movie finally comes out.

And hey, if I'm going to be wrong, I'd rather go out with a wild and crazy idea than playing it safe with some half-assed guessing. If I can't be right, I might as well be INTERESTING. And there's always fanfic to fall back on if the movie ends up going in a radically different direction and I still feel strongly about this by then.

#puella magi madoka magica #pmmm analysis #walpurgisnacht rising #walpurgis no kaiten #madoka magica

[svtskneecaps]

feel like the global tasks sweep strat should probably be nerfed somehow. my thought would be, give each team an individual ten minute overall cooldown on global task claims. that is to say, a certain team can only claim one global task per ten minutes. say, deliver gas masks, and then in ten minutes you're allowed to deliver tea, and then after another ten minutes you can claim hot chocolate.

another teams would be able to claim a global task for bananas during this time, and their own ten minute cooldown would start.

(the global tasks can either keep their individual ten minute cooldown [i.e. after tea is claimed no one else can claim tea for ten minutes] or a slightly shorter cooldown, say 5-7 minutes)

when a global task is claimed, everyone is notified, right? if not, in my hypothetical, they will be.

then, a team trying to sweep six tasks at once would actually take sixty minutes to do, allowing another team to swoop in and have a chance to stop it in cinematic, entertaining fashion rather than tubbo having to grind resources and then log out in front of the merchant to counter this, which is boring for everyone (including the person delivering). plus, if a team cuts it down to the last second and ends up getting delayed, they physically wouldn't have time to make a delivery, meaning even being a BIT of a nuisance could be a viable strategy, even if you can't manage to kill; if you can STALL you could still wreck their plans.

that's my dream anyway idk i'm not a game designer. just think it would be interesting for most players

(i elaborate under)

red team would have to shake up their strategies, which is fun since they're a team that kinda has to rely more on strategy than outright brawn (overall the team's pvp can't be relied on unless they have carre or phil, as seen today when pierre, bad, and etoiles attacked phil cellbit foolish and baghera, and cellbit and foolish both died to etoiles in the attack, despite it being a 4 on 1 at the time. baghera was killed by bad soon after. phil was the one to get the kills. the first day, when blue attacked [niki, tubbo, and bad as i recall] carre got both kills)

the other teams would then still have a way to stop a global sweep since a sweep would have to start earlier, allowing not only more time to arrive at global to pvp about it, but ALSO allowing another team to swoop in and steal the goal out from under the team again

i'm gonna use it in a scenario bc i'm badboyhalo and i can't stop myself from making examples:

so, tonight, if the proposed cooldown was in place, bad and tubbo would both still had roughly 17 minutes when red team would have HAD to start the sweep process if they wanted all six global tasks: 1 hour until the server closed at absolute MINIMUM. more for safety's sake.

therefore, in this scenario, there's a lot to happen

blue team could wait at globals, knowing red will probably try this strategy, and attempt or perhaps SUCCEED in killing red. if they kill red entirely, the operation is a wash; red doesn't have to gear to come back from scratch and take out blue team, and even if they could, the travel time to return to globals alone would mean they wouldn't get all the global tasks, potentially meaning they don't take the lead. if blue team is unable to kill red and dies themselves or has to retreat, but succeeds in delaying red, red would face the same problem.

if red sends in all of the task items on one person, and that person dies, even if the rest survived, blue could loot the items from that person and would be able to either use the items themselves, if green is currently the owner, or could run away with the items, effectively wasting red's time and again, meaning they wouldn't get all tasks claimed even if they were able to overtake the runner and reclaim their items.

i'm unclear what would happen if red divided the task items between them since it seems like the person claiming the task doesn't have to have all (or any? again, unclear) the items in THEIR inventory in order to claim so long as a teammate is nearby with the items in their inv (evidence: pac's vod "voltei... o que tá acontecendo no QSMP?!" at roughly 3:00:00; tubbo claims tea and tea is taken out of pac's inventory. i don't know the limits of this strategy)

blue team also has time to swoop in and steal a global task out from under red during this time. say, if red team had claimed the task for 10 tea leaves, upping the price to 15 tea leaves, and then blue team snuck in and claimed the task and set the price up to 20 tea leaves, (since the proposed 10 minute cooldown on claims would be TEAM LIMITED; red's cooldown applying to red only and so on). if red waited until the last second, they wouldn't have the time to reclaim this task even if they did have the resources, possibly forcing them to start their sweep earlier to counter this possibility, at which point team members who had logged on earlier and are out of time by the end of the night, OR members who live in time zones that don't allow them to stay up until server close, may have an easier shot at participating in defending against a global sweep.

all of this DIRECT CONFLICT would make for good audience entertainment and heighten the stakes of an attempted global sweep, since it would practically have to be one team defending globals for an hour while they pipe all their resources into it, knowing that if they die another team could easily swipe their task resources and use it themselves (along with the rest of their gear). it makes it more interesting, while still mostly viable.

plus it would force more strategizing for red team which is maybe just a personal plus, i just really like seeing people planning both in advance and in spur of the moment. it's really satisfying to see how a plan comes together and succeeds or fails; plus, since red team is the main team using this strategy at the moment and their main draw and strength as a team is cohesion and communication this would be completely fucking riveting for me as a viewer so maybe this is just a personal thing. but i really really think it would be fun

but again, i'm not a game designer, or a qsmp player, or a qsmp admin, or honestly even really a gamer? so maybe i'm off my rocker and out of my gourd and this isn't viable or balanced in any way shape or form but YKNOW what is this blog except putting stupid thoughts into the void and seeing if this time the void spits back hate mail so. i'm folding this into a paper airplane and throwing it into the abyss. hopefully it made sense.

k love you appreciate you getting this far, have a good week!!

(i hope your team gets a win in dramatic fashion and celebrates together!!! i hope they come together and unleash a plan so spectacular it takes the server by storm!!! i hope it's so good it becomes a vod you go back to even years in the future!!!! i hope you have a good week!!!!!)

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #shut up vic #block game brainrot #yes it's long beneath the keep reading no i'm incapable of being succinct #i color coded the important parts though i just wanted to try to be clear #examples are my bread and butter i do programming and math they make everything easier for me to understand #god i hope this makes sense to other people i didn't ask my biological peer reviewer so idk if this is stupid or not #tbh it's just a tumblr post so i guess it's whatever if it is but i put wayyy more work than necessary into double checking timelines lol #(i didn't watch blue today sorry :/ idr if i mentioned in the body of the post but i main red team) #(their energy is just more entertaining for me personally; though i kept an eye on pac once i could multi-watch!) #anyway other team mains feel free to weigh in if i'm making weird assumptions about what the teams are capable of #heaven knows my pov is biased here LMFAO #((for what it's worth i am fully aware this means red team aren't rly underdogs anymore and i super want them to be kicked in the stomach)) #((back to the drawing board; what will they do??? I WANT TO KNOW :O)) #((seeing them crawling back to victory from being like two pixels on the bar on sunday was great. more of that pls)) #idk i've rambled enough #long tags #ignoring daylight savings it's technically one am goodnight friends i hope this post doesn't suck hahahaha............... #OH AND IF ANYONE THINKS I SHOULD TAG SOMETHING FOR FILTER PURPOSES ABSOLUTELY LET ME KNOW #i want to be courteous but i think this post is pretty neutral in tone? but if you think it deserves a tag i will absolutely add it!!!!!

[lookismaddict]

Lookism: Rendezvous 🔞 (Ch. I) || Gun Park x Fem! Reader ♡

Author’s Note: Hi, I hope everyone is doing ok! If you’re reading this right after the Intro, I’m so sorry that I wrote such a long part for just an introduction to the story. I just wanted to provide the MC’s backstory so that it’ll help you guys understand where the story is going. But I do hope that you guys enjoyed the Introduction, and I hope you’ll like Ch. I as well!

NSFW Warning: Violence, strong language/cursing, and light sexual content (?).

Story Summary: You traveled abroad to help support your mother who is sick, back home in Japan. However, once you reached Korea, everything went downhill until you met a stranger who offered you a deal that could benefit you. But who knew that this special encounter would turn your whole life around…

“I’m sorry… what was that? You want me to be your what?”

Gun leaned against the wall that was next to him then lit his cigarette once more. “I said that I’ll turn you into one of my greatest masterpieces. You got potential to be a great fighter. If you get proper training from me, then I’ll make sure that you’ll develop into a pure unstoppable force.”

You crossed your arms while you scoffed to the side. “What? So… what are you implying? That I LIKED fighting? Haha sorry to burst your bubble, but I only did that by chance just to survive. Hell, that was actually the first fight I had. I’ve never fought in my life. I’m not a thug.”

Goo crossed his arms sternly. “Sooo… you mean to say that you’ve been a pacifist until now? I don’t believe that one bit sweetheart. You better be honest with us now or else I’ll have to find out through my OWN way.”

You took a step back wearily while holding both of your hands out in front of you towards Goo, trying to stop him from coming any closer to you. “I swear! Why would I even lie about that? Besides now I have another problem. I don’t know where the hell I’m at right now. I just lost everything that I had. And plus, I have nowhere to go, and now I’m stuck with you two lunatics!”

Goo was just nodding while listening to you rant away. On the other hand, Gun’s face remained expressionless. His mind was wandering somewhere else, trying to put the pieces together in his head. Like he was trying to calculate some sort of big equation. “Hey.”

You stopped blabbering your issues to Goo as the both of you turned to Gun who seemed to finally get what’s going on. “You weren’t a fighter from the beginning. Yet, you somehow knew how to fight. So, if you didn’t have prior knowledge about fighting, then you must’ve gotten them from somewhere. Have you been exposed to someone doing some type of martial arts training recently, or have you watched some type of show or documentary on it?”

You thought about it for a minute until you realized…

Yes, I have.

“Ah, well… Back in my hometown, I used to work part-time at a small karate school. My job there was to just bring materials during class. Like wooden boards, and planks, and all that. I didn’t really get to participate physically, but I always watched the students being taught by the head master. I’ve always found it really fun just to be there, and watch how karate was taught by professionals.”

“Then that’s all I needed to know.” Gun smirked, making his way back towards the exit of the alleyway until he paused at his tracks. “Oh I almost forgot to ask.” Suddenly, he turned his head back towards you. His gaze was so sharp that it pierced right through your whole body, which sent shivers down your spine.

“What’s your name?”

Your eyes, barely hanging onto his gaze, didn’t blink once. “It’s (F/N) Sasaki.”

“I see.” He turned his back towards you once more before continuing to exit out of the alley. “Come on, I’ll drop off Goo first before I figure out what to do with you.”

Goo raised an eyebrow. His eyes switched from Gun, to you, then back to Gun again before chasing after him. “Hey, wait up! What was that just now, you checking her out or what?” You heard his laughs bounce off the walls around you, as you stood there still trying to process what just happened.

What’s going to happen to me now?

You sighed as you willingly followed both of them out of the alley. It’s not like you had a choice to go with them anyways. When the streets were finally in view, you saw Gun and Goo both hop into the front seats of a black expensive Rolls Royce car parked on the other side of the street. You looked both ways before crossing the street, heading over to where they were at.

You got in the backseat of the car, shutting the door behind you. You buckled up and let Gun take the wheel to drive to Goo’s supposed destination. You leaned against the side of the car door next to you, staring at the street lights passing by. At the same time, you listened in on Gun and Goo’s conversation as they exchanged words in hushed voices.

“Gun, what made you decide on taking her under your care? I’m guessing it wasn’t just because you think that she’s a good fighter. Right?”

“Well, think about it. She said that she’s been watching people do karate for a while. We don’t know how long she’s been doing it for, but we now know where she got her new skills from.”

“And? What does that have to do with your verdict?”

“You’re not thinking any harder dumbass.”

“Hm…” From the right side-view mirror, you watched Goo close his eyes. He was pinching his own chin in between his two fingers, trying to concentrate.

The car filled with a long minute of silence until his eyes shot open like a light bulb just lit up above his head. He then turned to Gun with a mischievous smirk saying, “Ohhh, I get it now. She reminds you of Daniel Park, huh?”

Gun’s mouth curved devilishly, returning a smirk back to Goo’s realization. “That’s right.” His eyes seemed focused on the road in front of him, but his mind was somewhere else. Both of his hands were steady and firm on the wheel, like he just had a clear goal in mind and now he is willing to fulfill it no matter what.

Daniel Park? Who’s that?

“I did confirm that Daniel had the Copy Ability, like Johan Seong, the Copy Genius. Both of them would have turned into monsters if they were to have accepted my offer, but no matter. At least now, I have a secret weapon in my grasp. I got lucky this time.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. What are you saying? I was the one who found her first. She’ll be besties with me in no time. Right, (Y/N)?”

You jumped in your seat and quickly pulled your eyes away from the two of them, pretending that you just didn’t get caught listening in on them. Your eyes became so focused on the window, staring intently at the plain street lamps above you while the car drove by.

Crap. I wished I accidentally fell asleep in the car instead of eavesdropping on them like this.

Goo chuckled to himself knowing that he had been watching your movements ever since you got in the car, from the side-view mirror on his side.

As the expensive luxury car sped through the night, your eyes started to close little by little, drifting off to a long and lulled slu-

“We’re here.”

Not this time Satan.

Thank god, you were alarmed by Gun’s call. While you were rubbing your eyes to cease the sleepiness, you looked out the window until your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe your eyes as they trailed up towards the top of a very large building. Large letters that said, “One MCN,” stood at the front of the building’s entrance. You wondered what type of company owns the building in front of you and what business does Goo have to be going to such a place.

Goo stretched in his seat then whipped around to turn to you. “(Y/N), have you thought about what we talked about?”

Is he talking about the “secret friend” thing?

You slowly nodded. Goo smirked and leaned in closer to you while clinging onto his seat. “So what will your answer be? Will you accept?”

You thought about it for a second, but you already know what the right answer would be.

You leaned in closer to him then whispered into his ear…

“No.”

Goo clicked his tongue with slight annoyance. “Ah, so that’s your response huh? What a shame. I hope you won’t regret it later on in the future.” He gave an ominous smile to you before turning back to Gun. “Well I’ll see you whenever, regardless of what comes up in my schedule. I’ll be looking forward to what you have in store for (Y/N).”

Gun clenched the steering wheel in annoyance that you could’ve sworn that you saw the veins from his hands popping from high blood pressure. “Yeah, yeah, just get out of my car already. And remember, you owe me next time. I already repaid you just by being your driver for today. You know how much I hate being in Gangnam.”

Goo grinned at Gun while slamming the door right in front of him, silencing Gun’s nagging. “That bastard.” Gun muttered under his breath. As he switched the car’s gear stick to drive, he hit the gas and sped away. Startled, you turned your head around and watched Goo’s figure getting smaller and smaller as he stood in front of the building’s entrance waving goodbye at you. Your heart was still palpitating quickly from Gun’s acceleration, but you swore that you caught a glimpse of Goo’s eyes for a split second. His eyes gave off such an uneasy vibe that you didn’t stare at him for too long, so you turned back towards the front of the car.

What did he mean when he said that I might regret my decision in the future? Was that an actual threat from him?

The thought of crossing him again made your palms sweat nervously. Well now, at least you don’t have to deal with two intimidating men. Now it’s just down to one. Although you were relieved to see Goo go, Gun’s presence still made you a bit uneasy.

However, just watching him drive seemed to have calmed you since your eyes have been scanning him for a while. You checked out his face from the backseat through the rear view mirror, looking as sharp as ever. Since you were closer to him now than when you guys were outside, you can smell a whiff of his musky cologne that must’ve been expensive. Your eyes moved to his broad shoulders and his muscular build underneath the multiple layers of clothing he had on was visible, which surprised you. This made you wonder how strong could this man be if he were to remove each layer, piece by piece…

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I hav- . . . Eh?”

Your words seemed to have gotten stuck in your throat until you realized that those words that he just spoke weren’t in Korean. They were in Japanese.

(Now speaking in Japanese)

“EHHH?! Did you just speak to me in Japanese???”

“Yeah, why are you so surprised?”

“Well, I didn’t know that you’d actually speak in Japanese. You caught me off guard! But wait a minute. How did you know I was Japanese?”

“You told me your name, remember? Your family name is obviously Japanese. Plus, no Korean woman who’s a local around here would be at that place where we found you, at this time of night. Unless, you’re a prostitute…”

Your cheeks flushed in deep scarlet, making you cross your arms and looked away in embarrassment. “A PROSTITUTE?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! No way! And even if I was a prostitute, what kind of prostitute would beat up her own customers?”

Gun flinched from the loud tone of your voice just now. Afterwards, he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly while his hands were still on the steering wheel. “Alright woman, I get it! You didn’t have to be so loud. But I don’t know, you tell me.”

You were so furious that you were about to retort back at him, until you were reminded of your belongings still back at that shady bar. “We need to go back...”

“What?”

“I said, we need to go BACK! That asshole still has my luggage bag!”

“What asshole? The hell are you on about?”

At this point, you gave a brief summary of what happened, to Gun. You explained what started the fight you had with one of the two maniacs in the first place and what your first experience was like when you first arrived in Seoul.

Gun suddenly hit the brakes in the middle of an empty street. Good thing there weren’t any cars around during this time. His head turned around to look at you, with such intensity. You weren’t sure if it was due to irritability from having to go back and get your stuff, or anger from the assholes who happened to manage to pull something off like that. At that moment, you didn’t want to question him any further.

“Where’s the place at?”

You tried recalling what the bar was called from your memories until you remembered, “Venus’s Paradise.”

Gun stepped on the gas, as he made a sharp U-turn back towards the place where you first arrived in Gangnam. The U-turn was so sharp, that you could feel the force from the acceleration weigh down onto the side of your body, squishing you onto the side of the car door that was next to you.

About ten minutes later going about sixty-five miles per hour through the empty streets of Gangnam, the two of you finally pulled up in front of the dirty bar. Gun immediately unbuckled his seatbelt then turned to you, making sure you understood his instructions carefully.

“Stay here. Whatever happens, don’t get out of the car.”

And with those words, he slammed the door right behind him and made sure that the car was locked. You anxiously watched him walk into the bar alone, worried that he might not come out of that bar alive.

Fifteen minutes had passed and you were starting to worry even more. Your hand nervously pressed against your chest, feeling your heart hammering through your chest. At that point, you were debating to yourself whether or not you should go into the bar to retrieve him. You hugged your knees inside the car then laid your head onto your knees sighing. “I hope he’s ok.”

All of a sudden, you heard yelling getting louder from inside the bar. “What’s going on in there?” The front door suddenly bursted open, as a guy came running out from the bar full of blood from head to toe. You realized that the guy was actually Tae. His face was all bruised up as his left eye looked swollen and his bloody nose was left crooked sideways. His uniform was ripped almost to shreds. The stitching on one of his arm sleeves seemed to have been torn right off and one of his pant legs was barely hanging on. Your eyes widened at the sight of Tae quivering in fear on the ground next to the car that you were in.

A loud bam was heard as the door to the bar swung open violently. Another guy flew out through the door then landed flat on the ground, now unconscious. That man had on a brown leather jacket and underneath was a long sleeved cheetah-printed polo shirt. Golden chains were wrapped around his neck and the sight of him reminded you of Ryuji, since they both looked alike. His body was also covered in bruises and stains of blood.

Who could have done this? Wait, it couldn’t be-

The bar’s front door suddenly flew open once again, as you saw someone kick the door open. Outside, came Gun walking out of the bar without a scratch on him. However, a bit of blood splatters was stained on his clothes, his face, and on his hands. While making his way back towards the car, you noticed that he successfully managed to get your luggage back!

Tae’s eyes widened at the sight of the unconscious, bloodied man in front of him being stomped all over by Gun. His body was being walked all over over by him without remorse like he was just some insect. Even while he was rolling your luggage bag behind him, the man on the ground remained unfazed when his body was being violated by your big luggage bag. Tae slowly backed away from Gun as much as possible, until his back met the car door where you were sitting behind it, watching their every move through the tinted window.

Gun stopped in front of Tae. His eyes glared down at him with such a threatening look that it almost caused Tae to urinate in his pants. “Move.”

Tae quickly nodded as he scurried away down the street, yelping like a scared chihuahua. Gun then took your luggage bag and stuffed it in the back trunk of his car. Afterwards, he made his way back to the driver’s seat then closed the door on his side before starting the car.

You were curious about how he managed to even get your belongings back so you asked, “How did you do that?”

Before he started driving again he lit a quick cigarette, with a soft exhale of smoke escaping through his lips. The smell of smoke filled the inside of his car, making you cough a bit but you didn’t mind.

“I just went in there, and spotted that big suitcase of yours from across the bar. That last guy that I just saw was holding onto it while he was talking with his buddies, so I went up to him and just beat him up. It wouldn’t change a thing if I just asked them to hand it over.”

He then switched the gear, then started driving off, heading back towards the direction that he was supposed to go to before he got side-tracked. You just sat there in the backseat trying to process what he just explained. “All you did was just beat him up? But what about the rest of the guys that were with him? Wouldn’t they have done something to you too?”

“They tried to, yeah. But I had to take care of all of them as quickly as possible, since I got other important matters to take care of. There wasn’t much that they could’ve done though. They were all weak in the end anyways.”

“W-what…?”

They were all weak? Who is this guy? And what incredible strength he had. How could he have beaten all of them at once? He was up against so many guys, yet he came out of that alive?

“Then, what happened to their boss? Did you have to fight him too?”

Gun sneered, as he took the cigarette out of his mouth then extinguished it onto the ash tray that laid next to him. “Did you see that other guy that was laying outside of that bar? He made such a good carpet.”

You gasped, clasping your hand onto your mouth in shock.

That was HIM?! Who the hell is this guy, Iron Man? Or- THANOS?!

You weren’t aware of it, but Gun was watching your reaction from the rear view mirror while he was driving. For a split second, he couldn’t help but smile in amusement from your animated facial expressions. “What an amusing woman.” He whispered to himself before his smiled faded back to his original stern face.

The tinted Rolls Royce car sped throughout the night, zooming past every obstacle that couldn’t dare touch Gun’s beloved car.

Finally, the two of you arrived in front of a large modern-styled mansion as he drove through an iron gate that automatically opened on its own. The driveway to his house was very wide and openly convenient. There were short marble steps that led you up towards the door of the mansion, which was accompanied by small traditional Japanese trees on the sides of the steps, that were probably imported from Japan. From above, there was an outdoor balcony that overlooks the open surroundings of his house with a nice view that was probably to-die-for.

The architecture of his home made you gawk widely, fascinated by how large his home was as he parked the car right in front of the driveway. His garage was already filled with other expensive luxury cars, so he decided to park his favorite car in front of his house.

Wide-eyed, your eyes enveloped the scenery of such a lavishly polished home. “This place is so stunning…” you murmured in awe as you exited the car. Gun got your luggage bag from the back trunk then handed it to you, for you to stroll yourself. “This way.” He said in a commanding tone while walking towards the door.

You followed him, still starstruck at how amazing his place looked. You halted right behind him, when he stopped in front of the door to unlock it using a touch-screen passcode lock. When he heard the small door beep a few times, he opened the door to let you in. “Excuse me…” you politely said as you entered the house.

Mother. Of. God.

And you thought the outside of his home was marvelous? Oh, no honey. That was just the cherry on top. The interior was on a whole other level.

It was wide in space. The floor was made out of smooth wooden mahogany planks. A simple wooden staircase stood on the side of the wall, that led all the way up towards the second floor with a steel railing following alongside it. The balcony of the second floor was completely see through, made out of tempered glass, one of the strongest glasses ever made. If you were to look below from the balcony, you could see almost everything from the top floor.

Further down from the front door, there was a lounge area. You would be greeted by a mini bar with high quality alcohol displayed in glass shelves behind the counter. Fancy glass cups were suspended above the counter, glittering spotlessly. Right next to the bar were two pool tables centered behind a big leather sofa surrounding a flat screen TV.

As you made your way past the lounge area, a long rectangular dining table with 12 seats surrounding it stood there in the dining area. A few meters away, was the kitchen. Everything was mostly covered in black and white. The counters. The high-tech stoves. Everything was sleek and clean.

After Gun gave you a tour in the first floor, he took your luggage for you then made you follow him up the stairs. The man was literally carrying your suitcase over his head like it was nothing, which impressed you. He did seem like a gentleman at first, but you couldn’t help but remember that he is still a very dangerous man.

On the second floor, he guided you into an empty room that didn’t seem to be touched at all but was still kept clean. There was a big queen-sized bed with a huge window next to it where you could view the scenery. However, the window was covered with dark curtains that could be pulled back anytime. There was a small wooden bedside table on both sides of the bed, with two lamps on top of them. Right near the door, was a slide-in closet. Across the room was a door that led you into a personal bathroom, which you find very convenient.

Gun set your luggage down next to the closet, then leaned against the wall while crossing his arms. “Alright, time to discuss what you’ll be doing for me while you’re here.”

You sat on the side of the bed, while you curiously stared at him wondering what he had planned for you.

“Tonight, I will work on the contract that I’ll be giving you later on. However, I’ll lay the rules out for you right now. While you are here, make sure you follow my rules, and MY rules alone. No one else’s. Since I have accepted you into my own house for the sake of making you stronger, consider yourself lucky. I wouldn’t have done this in the first place if I thought of you as a nobody, so don’t waste my time. I believe that you have what it takes to be one of the strongest, if you polish your skills the right way through my guidance. While living here temporarily, don’t be loud, don’t annoy me, and don’t cause any trouble. In addition to you staying here, you are not allowed to leave this place unless I give you permission to do so. There will be times when you will be fed breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday, so make sure to be awake at those times or else you won’t be getting any meals at all. Make sure that you are ready when I get downstairs for your training sessions, which will always start at seven in the morning. Also, don’t let anyone into this house unless I inform you to do so. There will be times when I won’t be home, so even if they do say that they’re associated with me in any way, don’t let them in. And one last thing. Don’t touch anything that belongs to me, except for when you’re in the lounge area, when you’re in the dining room where food will be given to you, or anything else given to you by me. Lastly, don’t ever tell anyone about what happens in this house. Never tell anyone about what you’ve been doing and what our plans are. If you break any of these rules, always expect that there will be consequences. By tomorrow you will receive a physical copy of the contract from me once it has been finished. You’ll have to wait for it so it can be signed properly. Any questions?”

You yawned while nodding.

“Hmph. What is it then?”

“What if I get hungry during times when it’s not even breakfast, lunch, or dinner?”

“Then control your hunger.”

You pouted, while crossing your arms. “So I’ll just starve?”

“You’ll get used to it if you don’t rely on your appetite whenever you have a sudden urge to eat. It won’t be good if you eat regularly whenever you’re not hungry since it’s just going to ruin your appetite.”

“Oh okay. Oh and I have other questions. So, you already know right? The reason why I’m in Korea in the first place was to make money. How can I earn money in Korea if this will be my life temporarily? And why do you want to take me in so badly? Like what’s in it for me? You literally just forced me to be here.”

Gun smirked before closing the door behind him. “Wouldn’t you like to know ‘so badly’?”

Slowly, he made his way towards you in such a sly manner that he made you back up immediately into the bed even further. As he stood closely in front of you, he leaned in closer to you. Both of his arms now pinned onto either side of you on the bed, while trapping you in between his arms. You could feel almost feel his hot breath touch your skin, which smelled of nicotine. He took off his glasses revealing what lied underneath, and your eyes finally met his.

Underneath his glasses were pitch-black orbs with white pupils centered in between each eye. There was a huge scar that ran across his eyes, which must’ve hurt greatly from the looks of it. Stunned, you were left speechless. You couldn’t get a word to escape from your mouth as you stared up at him. It was like you were caught in some kind of spell. You were so drawn to his eyes that, unconsciously, your hand reached his face and touched his cheek. But with fast reflexes, it didn’t even take a few seconds until he grabbed onto your hand then pinned it over your head. Your other hand laid dead still and you felt that hand starting to sweat onto the bed. His right knee was also pinned in between your legs, trapping you under his body.

“What are you trying to do now? Seduce me?”

You quickly shook your head in response.

“You know, I’m starting to think that bringing over a stranger might be bad for me, so listen closely.”

He leaned in very close to your ear, that the side of your heads were parallel from each other. Your heart started beating quicker and quicker every minute that you think that even Gun could hear it from where his face was at. He tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear for you to listen carefully.

This position…

His forearms were pinned on the sides of your head. His scent made you feel light-headed. His chest was barely touching yours and you felt his breath even closer to your ear that it made your body tingle all over. You could even feel his leg graze slightly against your private part in between your legs, which made your legs all stiff. This was the first time that you’re on a bed with a man that it made your cheeks hot and red like twin tomatoes.

“Think of it as kind of a. . . You-Pay-Me and I-Pay-You situation. The outcome will be Win-Win if we both cooperate with each other. You will help me bring down four of the major power groups in Korea. In exchange, I will grant you anything you want. It can be money, fame, designer clothes, you name it. I’ll turn you into an unstoppable beast. You will even be known as a legend in Korea too.”

“I don’t really care much about all of that, except for the money. But… how will that benefit you?”

He stared deep into your eyes then smirked. “Money and power is all it takes to become the strongest. Once I have destroyed them all, there won’t be anything left for them in which I will be the one to rise to the top. I will shape you into one who’s worthy of fighting. My ultimate secret weapon. They won’t even know what will hit them. Once you have become one of my greatest masterpieces, money won’t be a problem for you anymore.”

Again with the “greatest masterpieces”. Will this really be the best option to help out mom?

“If that’s the case, then you can count me in. I’ll become one of your greatest masterpieces.”

“Finally, then it’s been decided. I’m glad we see eye-to-eye. We’ll negotiate on how much you’ll be given each month tomorrow after our first training session.”

He leaned back and retreated from the bed, leaving you to stare up at the ceiling in a daze. He retrieved his glasses then put them back on. While making his way towards the door, he stopped in front of it while he grasped the door knob.

“Oh, and one more thing. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll mostly be in my room, so knock if you need to. Also, give me your phone for a second. I need to give you my number.” He let go of the door knob as he returned back to you.

“Ohhh… right.”

You quickly sat up from the bed then took out your phone from your pocket. You unlocked it before handing it to him, so he could add his number to your contacts. “I’ll need your number too.”

“Ah… alright.”

After the both of you exchanged numbers he said, “Contact me if there’s an emergency.” You nodded when he handed your phone back to you.

Right when he was about to leave the room, the last words he said to you that night was, “Go ahead and get some sleep. It’ll be a busy day for you tomorrow.” Then shuts the door behind him.

Exhausted from everything that has happened that day, you collapsed back onto the bed and sighed.

Ah, I’m such a fool.

Out of nowhere, your belly started grumbling. You forgot that you haven’t eaten anything yet since you arrived in Korea. You sat up once again, then stared at your phone in your hand.

“Is hunger considered an emergency…?”

[End of Ch. I]

#manhwa #manhwua #manhua #lookism #lookism x reader #fanfic #fandom #lookism fanfic #park jonggun #lookism jonggun #jonggun x reader #webtoon #daniel park #johan seong #eli jang #kim joongoo #samuel seo #jake kim #gun park #lookism webtoon #euntae lee #vasco #zack lee

[skrimbled]

do it coward

Ok- here is my rambling.

Bfau is a fantasy au indpired mostly by @hopepetal and @applestruda and their boatem knights au, but i put a spin on it and changed a lot. (sorry for tagging you two if you see this lol)

Rambling is under the cut :]

Basically- Grian the avian fire sorcerer is tasked by the king to assemble a small team of warriors to defend an ancient village called Boatem, which has an open rift to a dangerous void-like realm inside of it. It's dangerous as they will live there full time and will be the first (and only major) line of defence against anything that emerges from the rift. Grian agrees, and sends out letters to those he sees worthy.

The first was a ranger called Scar, his former party member and travel buddy. They used to adventure with Grian's adopted older brother Jimmy, and Jimmy's boyfriend of the time BigB, but due to a tragic event BigB passed, and Jimmy left adventuring for good to mourn, leaving Grian with a now unpredictable teammate. Scar died too in that event, but a stolen artifact they had brought his soul back to his body. The problem? Souls that are angry when they die become vexes, which are wild and violent. So when Scar came back to life, he gained otherworldly abilities which he couldn't control. They tried to continue travelling, but eventually Scar couldn't keep risking Grian's safety and they parted ways so that Scar could understand his new life and powers. He had to have control by now, after years of minimal contact, right?

The second invite went to his twin sister Pearl, who he hadn't seen for many years. She had left their home town in response to strange dreams and visions calling her somewhere. Grian hadn't heard from her for a long time until recently, when Tim got word from a traveller that she was alive and well, and strong too. She was some sort of paladin now, and neither of her brothers had any more information than that. Grian knew that his new life would be tough and he would be lying if he didn't admit that he really wanted his twin's support.

The third person to contact was another close friend, a vampire called Mumbo. Grian met him when he was weak and starving, having offered his blood in exchange for temporary shelter. They became fast friends, and talked often. Grian wasn't sure how he was in combat, but the guy was hella smart! He had so many ideas for traps and weapons, and knew hoe to make them. Grian felt that having a more technical teammate would be valuable, so Mumbo was a no brainer really.

The fourth and final invite was tough, as he had ran out of connections. Well- he had his older brother, but Timmy had been left flightless by the same event that took his lover. While he and Grian occasionally talked via messages, Tim was never a fighter, and what magic he did have wasn't suited for combat. Even then, even if Tim somehow said yes, Grian could never put him through all that pain again.

He settled on talking around, and found out about a veteran adventurer called Impulse.

Impulse was a bit of a wild card, and it also showed in his personality. He was noticeably older than everyone else, but his portfolio was nothing to sneer at. He had been a part of an adventure party like Grian, and had gotten pretty well known and respected. Impulse was a knight apparently, the brawn to a pair of brains. But when Grian first met him, he was instantly a little strange. He would frequently refer to himself as a 'we' or 'us', and Grian was convinced he'd caught him talking to himself once as if there was a response. Grian didn't know this yet, but Impulse wasn't just a knight. He was a human sharing his body with a (kind of stupid and annoying) demon, and had been for many years. By now it was almost second mature for him to include Skizz into conversations, even if no one else could see or hear him.

These five indeviduals were the only ones to guard and interact with Boatem, and just kinda have to deal with each other. Not much happens at Boatem, but at least the down time lets them get to adjust to each other and their quirks.

So yeah. Grian gets his sister, two besties and a random dude together to do nothing but bicker and train unless shit goes down, featuring LOTS of background characters with their own stories and development that don't matter as they aren't the pov. I will talk about them though. Just not now.

I hope you enjoyed my midnight ranting :]

#boatem fantasy au #bfau #bfau lore #chatty chat #hermitcraft boatem #boatem crew #hermitcraft au #grian #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #mumbo jumbo #impulsesv #bfau boatem

[ariadnes-red-thread]

Bad Habits

Summary: You can try to break your bad habits all you want but somehow you always end up here, with Fives.

Pairing: Fives x AFAB!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ *MINORS DNI*, This is pretty much just pure smut (PiV, oral, face-fucking, fingering), Soft dom!Fives, Dom/Sub dynamics, Mention of safeword, Language, Drinking/Alcohol use, Toxic dynamics/Controlling behavior, Fluff ending, Brief appearence by Crosshair

Word Count: 5000

A/N: “Bad Habits” by Ed Sheeran has lodged itself in my brain and it won’t leave. So, like Fives, I’ve decided to make my problems into everyone else’s problems. 

Almost no actual song references. Just a smutty lil piece about being addicted to another human. Also, I h/c that Fives likes control. It helps him push back against the fear and the feeling that the rest of the galaxy views him as just a number. Likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are always so appreciated!

Ao3

My bad habits lead to you...

It’s late and you’re buzzing. You’ve had a few drinks, sure, but it’s not just the alcohol. It’s a combination of everything that has your heart racing and a feeling of possibility tingling just beneath the surface of your skin. There’s the neon lights, the thud of the bass, the din of the crowd gathered at 79’s tonight, and, most intriguing of all, the company of the handsome, mysterious man who has just settled into the bar-seat next to you.

“Crosshair.” 

The striking man smirks at you as he throws back a shot of sticky, brown liquor. You watch as he swallows it without flinching. His eyes quickly flick back to you, returning your hungry look as they drift over your figure. You’re leaning against the bar and wrapped in a low-cut black dress with a hem that sits just below the swell of your rear. You look fantastic and you know it.

“Nice to meet you, Crosshair.” You tilt your body towards him, arching your back just a little as you say his name. His attention falls to your cleavage, as you intend.

“The pleasure is mine,” He assures you.

His silky voice licks at your ear and you wonder what else that tongue can do. Crosshair’s eyes travel back up to meet yours and they’re nothing but deadly. This man wants to eat you alive and you just might let him.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

You internally groan at the voice over your shoulder. Even in a sea of clones, you know who it is without turning around.

“Yes, Fives?” You lock eyes with Crosshair’s deep brown ones, hoping that maybe Fives will take a hint and fuck off.

“The Captain is lookin’ for you.” 

“Rex is looking for me? Right now?” The disbelief in your voice is palpable.

“Yep. Says it’s urgent.”

You know he’s lying. You know it. Even as the civilian medic for the 501st, there’s no convincible reason that Rex could need you right now. Not to mention that, when you left the Torrent Company’s table to strike out on your own with the explicit purpose of talking to anyone but Fives, Rex had his face buried in the tits of that beautiful bounty hunter he’s seeing. So, all of that to say that you know for a fact that Rex isn’t looking for you. You know that what you should do is tell Fives to go to hell and bother someone else. But you can’t resist the bait. You never can.

You turn to Fives. He sees his moment and captures it. He clasps your upper arm in a gloved grip before he tugs at you and leads you towards the door. You don’t even have time to say a word to your new friend. You throw an apologetic look over your shoulder at Crosshair, hoping it’s sorry enough that he might wait for you to shake off this pest of an ARC trooper and come back to the bar. His glare at your companion is murderous and you have no doubt that, if Crosshair had a weapon, Fives would be a dead man.

With his typical disregard for danger, Fives doesn’t even glance back as he leads you out of the club. He takes you just around the corner to the alleyway. Using his wide, armor-clad form, he backs you into the durasteel wall and cages you there. He presses his gloves against the building, one hand on either side of your head. He stares at you like he has something to say but, even as you wait a beat, no words come. You’re impatient. The night is cool and the durasteel that you’re leaning against is icy on your spine. Your thoughts are still with the attractive man at the bar. This isn’t a game you want to play tonight.

“Funny I don’t see Rex around here.” You cross your arms, trying your best to appear stern. “What do you want, Fives?”

Either he doesn’t hear you or he ignores the question. He’s frowning over your shoulder like he’s suddenly unable to meet your eyes. 

“Him? Really?”

He’s pouting, you realize. You hate to admit it but it’s a cute look on him. You and Fives do this dance every time you’re planetside. You’ve been regularly sleeping together for a few months now. The first time was an accident. The two of you had ended up closing down the bar together and, as the poor, besieged bartender kicked you both out into the slowly brightening dawn, you launched yourselves together and practically tore each other apart in this very alleyway. Now, your nights out all ended the same way, entangled in Fives as you both heaved heavy, blissed out breaths. Recently, you realized you were falling for the man and that wouldn’t do. So you started to look elsewhere, desperate to break your bad habit before it broke you.

Still, you always ended up here.

“What’s wrong with my new friend, Crosshair?” You say, the taunt in your voice intentional.

Even though he’s still not looking at you, you feel yourself leaning into his wide frame already. Hells, it’s like he’s magnetized.

“Dunno,” Fives shrugs, finally dropping his stare back down to meet yours. Your breath hitches as his amber eyes lock onto you. “I guess nothing if scrawny and sulking is your type.”

You scoff, his wild assessment of Crosshair giving you reprieve from his spell. 

“I don’t see any better offers.” You raise an eyebrow at Fives.

“I’ve got one.” His hands fall to your low waist. He tugs, pulling himself closer to you as he tilts your lower half up into him. “You look beautiful tonight, ya know?”

“We can’t keep doing this, Fives.”  You sigh but, the more he speaks, the more you find yourself entranced by his full lips. The sudden increase in closeness sends ripples of electricity pulsing through your body, betraying you in its anticipation.

“That’s not a no…” His response is cheeky and hopeful. He grips your hip a little tighter, making small circles in the fabric of your dress with his thumb.

“I…” 

Every time, you swear it’s the last. You tell yourself you’ll go home with someone new. You think maybe you’ll meet someone who will take you to dinner and ask you out in the light of day. But, despite your best efforts, somehow your nights always go like this, staring up at Fives and finding yourself pulled in once again. 

He can see it too. Fives is an exceptional recon scout and he knows how to read you like a holomap. He always has. It’s part of what makes this so addictive. What makes him so addictive.

“Let me take care of you, mesh’la.” He leans in closer.

“Fives,” you whisper as his lips ghost over yours.

You try to think of another reason to protest but your mind is empty and your throat has gone dry. Suddenly, old habits feel easy and you can’t remember why you wanted to break them to begin with. You can see how his breath hitches in his throat. He’s waiting for permission. He’s waiting on you.

Your permission comes in the form of a slight lunge forward into his lips as you give in to your desire. As soon as you make your decision, he meets you there. Your arms wrap their way around his neck and one hand gently tugs at his close-cropped curls. His teeth nip at your lower lip, begging entrance. You surrender to him, like you always do. You’re already breathless as his tongue intertwines with yours. Your dress rides up as Fives presses himself against you, his knee finding its way between your legs. The pressure against your most sensitive area makes you grind into him before you even realize what you’re doing. His mouth travels down your neck, leaving wet, hot marks along your sensitive skin. Fives finds your ear, heavy breath bating against you as he whispers.

“I’m going to make you feel so much better than he ever could. I promise.”

You moan. You know it’s true. That’s how you always end up here.

A few more hushed words and hurried kisses later, you and Fives do that intertwined, stumbling dance back to your place. It’s one that you choreographed together and then performed time and time again. He knows the code to your apartment, which he types in with one hand while the other is wrapped all the way around your back, weaving through the openings in your dress so that the tips of his fingers are brushing against the sensitive skin under your breast.

As you tumble forward through your apartment and into your bedroom, the mood switches. He pulls himself off of you. Fives circles, shutting the blast door behind you both and closing out the world. It’s only the two of you now. Though you feel empty without his warm skin pressed to yours, you don’t follow after him. Instead, you stand still, knowing what comes next. He sits himself at the edge of the foot of the bed, elbows resting on his knees. His glinting eyes meet yours.

“Safeword?” He checks in like he always does.

“Tatooine.” You respond without hesitation.

“Good girl.” Fives bits his lower lip as he leans back onto his palms. “Undress for me.” 

You reach for the zipper along the side of the dress. You clasp the cool metal of the pull tab between your fingertips and peel the teeth apart one by one. The fabric falls off of your form, caressing your skin before it piles on the floor around your ankles. Fives is a man under a spell. His jaw hangs just a bit as he watches. Then, suddenly, it snaps shut. He’s realized something.

“No underwear? In that dress?” His voice is torn between a groan and a whine. “Fuck mesh’la. You’re trying to kill me.”

“It wasn’t for you.” 

It’s true. The panty lines were ruining the look of the dress so you had decided to take the risk and forego them for the night. Although it was for the sake of the outfit, you say it just like that to bait him. A flash of anger crosses his face. 

“I should have taken you right at the bar.” Fives snaps. “Show that sniper exactly who you belong to.”

It’s your turn to bite your lip, the thought sending a shudder of pleasure down your spine.

“Oh you like that, don’t you?” He knows what desire looks like on you.

“Yes,” you admit. The idea of Fives taking you anywhere he wants has you panting before him and you feel your cunt clench at the pooling emptiness, hungry and ready for attention.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He’s grinning at you. “Touch yourself. Play with your nipples.”

You bring a hand up to your breast and his smile fades in an instant. He watches under hooded eyelids as you begin to roll and tweak one nipple and then the other. Desire roils your blood and you let out a small moan at your own teasing. His jaw is taut as he watches you.

“Who are you thinking about?” Fives’ tone is back to being calm and even. Only the low rumble behind his voice lets you know how close he is to shattering this facade.

“You, sir.” It’s true. You can’t wait for him to get his hands on you.

“That’s right, mesh’la. Come ‘ere.”

You make your way to him, doing your best not to rush. He spreads his legs so you can stand in between his muscular thighs.

“Take my armor off.”

Fives reaches up, dragging his gloved fingertips across your bare skin until he reaches your shoulders. He flattens his palms against you and gently applies pressure. Under his restrained touch, you sink to your knees between his legs before you begin to reach for his armor. You know the latches by heart. Piece by piece, you strip him and carefully pile the armor beside you on the floor. This isn’t hurried. You treasure this armor. It keeps him safe and brings him back to you, even if this is all you can get of him. You push the thought away, trying to focus on the toned, handsome man being revealed before you. It works. As you remove his codpiece, his hard length appears as a tent in his bodysuit. Your mouth waters and you swallow at the sight. You reach to stroke him through the fabric.

“No, no.” Fives captures your wrist, quickly twisting your joint so he can pin your hand to the bedsheets. The motion catches you by surprise but it doesn’t hurt. “Did I say you could touch me yet?”

You whine. Now that you’ve seen a teasing promise of his cock, the steady, diligent worker you were moments ago has disappeared. You want to feel him and this is taking entirely too long. Desire courses through you, sending sparks to your core. You need heat, you need friction, you need Fives. He can see the defiance flailing in your eyes as you get ready to object to his pace. Keeping your wrist pinned, Fives lifts his free hand to your face. He runs a single knuckle along your jaw.

“Patience, cyar’ika. Keep working on my armor.” Fives orders before he releases your hand.

You still want to protest but you don’t dare. The brattier you are, the longer it will be before you get what you need. So you turn dutifully back to your job. Fives looms over you as you peel off his shin plates. You can see him from the corner of your eye, watching you like a sparring partner. His expression is dark and his eyes have bloomed black in the center. He raises a hand to your breasts. They are swinging heavy from your chest as you work. One finger traces along your areola, making the skin pearl as he draws small circles in your sensitive skin. He mirrors your movements from earlier, tweaking and twisting at your nipple.  Each touch sends more flutters of heat to flood your core. Your fingers start to tremble and you begin to fumble at latches that you could undo blindfolded. He turns his attention to your other breast, pinching that nipple just a bit harder, searching for the line where pain and pleasure blur. You gasp at his ministrations, keening into him, and Fives smiles a knowing smile, one that says he found what he was looking for. 

Despite the distractions, you finish stripping the armor from his legs and then turn your attention to his shirt and his gloves, leaving him in only his lower body glove. You start to reach for the waist but your eyes meet his and he gives you a stern look. You drop your hands to your knees and you wait, never taking your eyes off of his. Fives’ eyes are dancing slivers of amber surrounding inky black orbs. No matter how far you get into the scene, they never lose their mirth. You see desire burning in them as well. He’s teasing himself as much as he’s teasing you. Finally, Fives cracks and pulls himself from the fabric, revealing his long, thick member. He strokes himself, pressing his fingertips along the rigid vein that runs under his shaft, as he stares down at you. He teases the swollen head and smears the bead of precum that has formed on the end. You lick your lips as you watch him. He cracks a smile at that.

“You want to touch me?” 

“Yes, sir.” You nod, your eyes locked on his hard cock.

“Good girl.” Fives rasps. “Go ahead.”

He leans back again. It’s your turn to take the lead and you're going to savor every moment of it. You start at his neck, dragging your fingertips downward. You run your nails across his skin, trailing them across his stomach with just enough pressure to leave the lightest of darkened lines. There will be plenty of time to leave lasting marks later. This is just to tease him. You may be subordinate in the scene but you know you still have the power to turn him to putty.  

Finally, you reach his groin.  As you trail your hands along his inner thighs, you lower your open mouth to his cock. You feel him tense as you place his weeping tip on your tongue. You savor the salty, slightly tangy taste as you start tracing careful circles around his tip, teasing him. He gasps and you savor that too. He runs his fingers along your hair, wrapping his grip in your locks. You lick a long line on the underside of his member, drawing along the vein. He shudders as you finally take him fully in your mouth. You jerk on his cock as you suck, one hand twisting at his base while you hollow out your cheeks and your tongue glides around his shaft. 

“My good girl.” He repeats, his voice rumbling now. His grip on your hair becomes tight. 

You relax your jaw and take him further, gagging yourself just a bit so you can swallow him. Your fingers dance their way to his balls, scraping across his sensitive skin. You pull more moans from him while you squeeze and tug his heavy sacs. Without warning, he pulls his cock from your mouth.

“I’m going to fuck your face.“ He says and it’s not a request. He’s leaning down to lock eyes with you now. “What’s our signal if it’s too much?”

You place your hands on his legs before you tap three times on his left thigh with two fingers.

“And if you’re okay?”

You take two fingers and tap twice on his right thigh. Fives smiles at you, proud and hungry, before his look goes dark.

“Open up.” He takes two fingers and taps on your cheek, an unspoken reminder of his check-in signal.

His cock slides back into your mouth. There’s a moment where the world is still and then that stillness is shattered. He thrusts into you without mercy, groaning and sighing. You relax your jaw as best you can but his pace is unrelenting. Tears start to form in your eyes. His other hand wraps around your neck as he pumps himself into your mouth. The pressure is gentle, just enough so he can feel his cock expanding your throat. He removes his hand for a second to tap twice on your cheek. You tap twice on his right thigh. He trusts you and so he returns his hand to your throat as he begins thrusting harder. His cock sinks deeper into your throat, blocking your airway and pulling choking sounds from your stunted breaths. The tears are spilling from your eyes now and spit dribbles down your chin. His rapid grunts let you know he’s close. You’re ready for him, begging him to spill down your throat, needing him to become undone.

Instead, he stops his thrusting, tugging you off of him. His chest is heaving as he lifts you to your feet. Without warning, his hand is between your legs. Fives gathers up the slick that has dripped down your thigh with his fingers before he runs a single fingertip along your slit. He thrusts the one finger inside you. You let out a small gasp at the unexpected and almost unbearably pleasant intrusion. You twist on his single finger, needing more. He’s ready to give it.

“My turn.” He pulls his hand from between your legs and brings it to your lips.

You open your mouth and clean his fingers, the taste of both of you mixing on your tongue. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and kisses you hard before his next order.

“On the bed. Hands and knees.”

You follow his directions, presenting for him. You hear him groan and mutter under his breath at the view. Your heart races in anticipation.

Smack-smack.

He lays a hand on one cheek and then the other. He repeats it until your soft skin is darkened and you are thrusting your hips back at him, aching for him to touch your center. 

Finally, you feel his hot breath glazing over your skin. You sigh and he hums happily in response, dropping his mask in the moment of excitement. His tongue meets your lower lips, dancing in long lines against your opening. He gently traces your cunt, pulling sighs from you. Teasing you. He continues his slow and steady path, alternating gentle, pointed licks with lavish sucking, first on one lip and then the other. You whimper. Still, he takes his time, savoring your taste as if your desperation makes it even sweeter. The word he’s waiting for finally slips from your mouth.

“Please.”

“Please, what princess?” You can hear the smirk that you know he’s wearing.

“Please, sir. I need more.” You whine.

Fives chuckles.

“How can I say no to you?”

He flattens his tongue against your slit and begins to lick in a frenzy, sending heat curling up your spine. His tongue travels from your clit to your frenulum and then back again, his facial hair an added sensation as it prickles your skin. He delves into your cunt. His tongue pressing against your inner walls. Your chest falls to the bed, pushing your hips back against him as you keen at his overwhelming attention. He pulls another moan from you, though it’s half-stifled by the sheets you’ve buried your face in. Two fingers find your clit as he begins to thrust his tongue into you. He’s already got you writhing with his teasing and, before long, he works you right to the edge. Without hesitation, he sends you toppling over it, shaking and crying out.

You clamp down as you cum, thrusting back into him. He meets you hungrily, drinking up everything you give him. Your hips slump as you come down. He feels you start to relax. You move away from him just slightly, creating the smallest bit of space between the two of you.

“No,” Fives orders and reaches a hand up to your stomach, holding you in place and pulling you back into him again with his firm grip. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He flips you on to your back, angling himself above you, and pushing your legs up into your stomach. With a devious wink, Fives dives right back into your cunt. You cry out, still sensitive from your last orgasm. You writhe under his relentlessness but he holds you tight. His tongue finds your swollen mound as a single finger enters you. His fiery eyes are locked on yours now as he thrusts it in and out of you. You’re whimpering from the relief of finally having him inside you. He adds another finger, working you up again. He sucks your clit into his mouth, teasing it slowly and steadily. It’s a sharp contrast from the force with which he stretches you with his hand but he knows you. He knows how to work you up without overstimulation. And he also knows you can take more. He adds a third finger. The stretch is almost painful, especially in your state, but Fives fucks you through it, opening you and curving his fingers so they find that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back. Your world goes white as he pulls another orgasm from you.

He lets you relax this time. Your limbs fall numb to the mattress like they belong to someone else. He climbs off of the bed so he can strip his lower half. You watch him through foggy eyes, admiring his broad, handsome form in your moment of bliss. He climbs back into bed next to you, laying into your side. His touch is gentle as he brings a palm to your cheek. The curtain falls for a moment and you glimpse Fives, the man you’re falling for. The sweet desire in his eyes is unlike the joking impish glint that usually lives there. You know that most don’t get to see it and you feel lucky to have a glimpse, even for a second. It’s addicting, these moments.

“You ready?” He asks, checking in with you again, as he draws his thumb across your lower lip. You can tell that, beneath the practiced patience, he’s teetering on that precipice of passion.

You nod, sucking his thumb into your mouth, wanting to throw him over that edge.

“My good girl.” He growls. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

And he does. He guides you back to your hands and knees. His member slots against your entrance as you brace yourself on your forearms. In the next moment, he sinks to the hilt, his cock reaching your deepest center. You keen back into him with a moan that borders on a cry. He pulls back before he sinks in again. Repeating the motion, he thrusts into you over and over, his cock dragging along your walls as his balls bounced off the back of your thighs. He’s grunting as he thrusts, muttering more to himself than you.

“Fuck yeah, mesh’la. You feel like fucking heaven. Osik, this is my pussy. Mine.”

Fives wraps an arm around your front, pulling you up to his chest so he can thrust up into you. His cock reaches new depths. His other hand snakes down to your center, where he starts to draw circles around your clit. You’re babbling as he rolls his hips home again and again. The angle of his hips and the friction on your most sensitive area sends you over the edge for a third time. It shocks the both of you. He slows his hips as you clamp down again. 

As you come down from your high, Fives pulls from you. You should be tired but you want more. You’ll always want more of him. You whine at the emptiness. His lips meet your neck in a small gesture or reassurance. He brings you back down to the bed, twisting you onto your back. He settles his weight onto his left forearm, which lays next to your head and cages you with his chest. His right hand reaches down and clasps your knee, pulling it up to his hip so he can still reach the depths of you.

You both moan in unison as he slides home again. His hips send waves of pleasure into you as he starts thrusting again. His lips find yours as he hungrily kisses you. His head then falls to your neck. He’s leaving marks now and you know you should yell at him before he leaves one you can’t hide with your jumpsuit but you can’t bring yourself to care. You want to be his, bad habit or not. 

“Give me one more.” Fives is beginning to stutter his hips. His words come through gritted teeth as he holds himself back, demanding one more peak from you before he lets himself tumble over the edge. “Cum for me, my good girl.”

Your whines become high pitched sobs. Your head is still spinning from the other orgasms but somehow, he reaches down between your bodies to find your swollen clit. With rapid circles, he coaxes come more out of you. Your walls convulse around him as you scream out his name. Fives thrusts for a final time, finishing deep within you.

You both collapse on the bed, his weight falling onto yours. After a beat, he quickly rolls off of you, pulling his softening cock from you and guiding you around so that he can hold you, face to face and pressed to his chest. There’s a moment where your heart flutters and you think about pushing away but you’re too exhausted to protest. Instead, you tuck your nose into his neck and let him stroke your hair until both of your breathing slows.

When it finally does, Fives slips from the bed for a moment. You hear the sink run in your fresher. When he comes back, Fives has a damp towel with him. He sponges your lower half as he lays gentle kisses on your skin. You’re sore in the best way, wriggling just a little under his touch. You’ll definitely feel him tomorrow. Tomorrow. The thought makes you frown. That’s why you didn’t want to do this. So you wouldn’t have to miss him tomorrow. That’s why this is a bad habit that you need to break. Nausea sets in.

Fives, unaware of the struggle waging inside you, tosses the used towel to the side before he climbs back into bed. He pulls your sheet around you both. He wraps his arms around you and molds himself to your form. His heat, which you craved so desperately only minutes ago, suddenly feels suffocating.

“Should you be going?” You pull yourself away from him. No need to get comfortable in arms you can’t stay in.

Fives isn’t having any of it though. He gathers you back into his chest.

“No drills in the morning. Rex canceled everything until the afternoon.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he presses his lips to your skin. Then, he pauses for a moment before he adds, “Let’s go get breakfast at Dex’s.”

“Sure,” You snort.

“I mean it, cyar’ika.” He separates from you just enough for you to be able to see his face. You peer at his features, expecting to see some of his spritely humor. You expect to find the punchline. Instead, he wears only an earnest smile. “Let me take you out.”

“You’re serious?” You’re still skeptical but you feel yourself melting into him.

“Aren’t I always?” He winks before he plants a kiss on your forehead.

As you fall asleep in Fives’ arms, you’re smiling. You never could kick your bad habits but maybe they were leading you to where you were supposed to be.

#the clone wars #star wars #tcw #arc trooper fives #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #clone wars fives #fives x reader #fives x you #tcw fives #fives smut #tcw fives smut #fives x reader smut #fives x you smut #tcw smut #tcw star wars #fives one shot #tcw one shot #no y/n #tbb crosshair #crosshair #ariadnes red thread #ariadnesredthread #ariadne writes

[rebel-walnut]

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

Steddie Season 3 time travel fic, Part 8

Ao3, Pt. 1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7

Eddie doesn't know if he's breathing or not. He doesn't think he is. Doesn't matter anyways, seeing as he's dead.

The super-kid's words are ringing through his ears and all he can hear is not supposed to be alive, not supposed to be alive, not supposed to be alive. He doesn't know what that means for getting back to '86, if he'll go through and die anyways, if they'll come back earlier, later, maybe they'll die in the process. As far as he's concerned, Supergirl just marked his time of death and stamped his forehead 'deceased.' 

His breaths are short and shallow, a constant influx of oxygen he shouldn't be allowed to breathe. Taking up someone else's air, someone else's space- what even happened to this version of Eddie? Is Eddie from '85 back where he's currently supposed to be, drowning in a pool of his own blood that isn't really his? Does he just not exist anymore? If Eddie thinks much longer about the implications of interdimensional time travel and clone duplicates he's gonna throw up. 

There's pressure on his wrist and the whirling of Eddie's vision subsides enough for him to see everyone staring at him expectantly. Steve has Eddie's right hand clasped between both of his own, and he's rubbing circles across the joint of Eddie's thumb while another finger rests across his pulse. He idly wishes Steve was holding his hand for a reason other than making sure Eddie isn't dead. 

Eddie's laugh is cruel around the edges, sharp in a way that it only ever is when he's putting effort into it. The sound hurts his ears. "So this thing- Vecna, or the upside down, whatever- is trying to kill me. Correction- has killed me. Wants to do it again, but sooner," The smile on his face is foreign and forced, he recognizes it as a shadow of his father's own malicious sneer that only ever wreaked havoc. Eddie wants to claw it out of his skin. 

Steve presses a touch harder into his pulse point and Eddie wants to scream along with his heart beat. "And! We don't even know if we can get back. Say we can. We get back to '86 where we left off. Then Stevie here," Eddie claps Steve on the chest with his free hand and ignores the vice grip that's somehow still gentle around his wrist, "gets to drag my lifeless, chew-toyed body back out of hell, because it turns out I'm dead anyway! Oh well, c'est la vie, at least I get to live out my last days trapped in a different timeline waiting for imminent death; likely in the form of crushing killer vines that'll pop the eyes out of my skull, creepy mind wizard torture, or more bats ripping tiny chunks of flesh out of my sides until I'm nothing but bone and eccentric fashion choices." 

The collective noises from the group could best be described, Eddie would say, as strangled, horrified, and wildly disgusted. Perhaps his monologuing skills leave much to be desired, but sue him. He just found out about his sealed fate, he's allowed to make it slightly funny despite the general aura of horror. 

Steve has given up on being gentle it seems, his nails dig in slightly to Eddie's skin and his fingers are wrapped tight enough to block circulation. He's stopped tracing over Eddie's knuckles, opting instead to just hold Eddie's hand still in the tightest grip known to man. The various children keep staring at him with ranged looks of devastation; Supergirl looking concerned but still with the tight set to her jaw that tells him the next words out of her mouth will be a solution to his problem, Red with mostly shock stricken through her eyes but with an undertone of disinterest that he knows she wears for show, and Henderson doing nothing to hide his reaction of absolute guttural horror. Eddie feels a twinge of guilt for subjecting him to his monologue.

"Eddie-" Steve starts but cuts himself off just as fast. He gapes for a second as his eyes burrow into Eddie's, the shock still settling in the air. "We'll find a way. We always do, we're not gonna-"

"No, Harrington!" Eddie wrenches his hand out of Steve's suffocating grip and ignores the way his expression falls. "I know your band of misfits has been at this for a while, but face it. You've lost people. I know you have. None of you should have the far-away look of a veteran when you're all just kids. You've lost people, and I'm gonna be one of them, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. I'm already gone."

Eddie pointedly pushes back the hot prickling in his eyes and forces his way out of the living room, keeping his gaze turned to the floor. He hears deafening murmurs as he leaves, passing by the kitchen on the way to the sliding glass door at the back. He lets it glide shut behind him with a click, wishing Harrington didn't have those fancy spring loaded door stoppers so he could actually slam it. The pool is glinting in front of him, cover half off and folded at the deep end. There's a small collection of leaves circling the surface of the water, catching the glint of the setting sun on their waxy coating. Eddie throws a rock from the edge of the pool at one just to watch it sink.

He shuffles through the pockets of his sweats for a second before finding a crushed half empty pack of Pall Malls and a bic with a melted corner. He's grateful he remembered to grab them from his vest when he changed and managed to salvage what cigarettes he could from the water damage, but he grimaces at Eddie from July of '85's brand choice anyways. He knows he only bought it cause it's cheap, and lights up regardless of his brand prejudice. The cherry glows orange and he takes in almost a third of the cig in one drag, only sputtering a little on the way out. He finishes it in two more drags and lights up another after smashing the butt into the concrete pool lip to snuff it. He's halfway through the second one when he hears the smooth glide of the door open and click shut softly. Eddie doesn't bother looking to see who it is, he already knows it's Steve. 

Steve pads up behind Eddie, giving him enough space that Steve's still out of sight. Steve clears his throat but Eddie doesn't turn, just flops down by the edge of the pool and watches the smoke curl around his fingers. The ash falls into the edge of the pool as Eddie flicks it, taking the last drag and letting the acrid buzz wash over him. It stings as it burns down to his fingertips around the filter, but he just watches as the flame trickles out.

The gravel crunches under Steve's shoes as he moves to gingerly sit next to Eddie, his gaze burning a hole into Eddie's cheek. Eddie watches him out of his periphery, Steve glancing between Eddie and the darkening sky with unhidden interest. Eddie fishes out another cigarette and lights it, wordlessly offering it to Steve after the first puff. Their fingers brush as Steve takes it and Eddie can't help but stare at Steve's relaxed posture betrayed by the tension in his shoulders as he takes a pull to rival Eddie's own first drag. He hands it back without looking, slowly releasing the smoke and letting it drift into the wind. Eddie can't help but think it's the sort of thing people write songs and make paintings about. They finish the dart in silence, stealing glances at each other and letting cheap nicotine steady their nerves. Steve clears his throat again quietly while Eddie stubbs the filter against the ground.

"I hate this pool," Eddie glances at him, but Steve's got a mile long stare trained on the surface of the water. "Back in '83-" He cuts himself off as he seems to so often do lately and drops his chin to his chest with a sharp exhale. Eddie brushes his fingers against the back of Steve's hand but doesn't break his silence when Steve meets his eyes. "Barbara Holland went missing from this pool. Died in the upside down because of it- because of me,"

"Steve-"

"No. It's true," Steve presses his hand against Eddie's fingers and he can feel it tremble as Steve looks back out to the water. "I was too preoccupied with trying to impress Nance, impress my friends, my parents. Which, not worth it. At all. Anyway, I was too focused on myself and we lost her, and I just- I didn't fucking care. I don't know if it was a defense mechanism or what, but I just tried not to think about it. Distracted myself with Nance, school, parties, anything to stay away from it. I just didn't want to admit it was my fault she died."

Steve's eyes are glistening a hazel gold in the sunset, a sheen of unshed tears catching the light. It's a melancholy stare, the look of grief and guilt and regret wrapped in one sun kissed gaze. Eddie doesn't know what to do except bump his shoulder against Steve's and hope the contact comforts him. 

"And I'm trying to be better. Be the person who would never let that happen, or at least never let it be forgotten. But sometimes I just catch the water out of the window of my room and…" Steve slumps into the comfort of Eddie's arm, his hair tickling Eddie's cheek. His expression is the most broken Eddie's ever seen it, every piece of it shattered and irreplaceable. Each exhale sends a tremor through Steve's body, and Eddie slides the fingers still pressed against Steve's skin around his hand before wrapping his other hand around their tangled fingers and squeezing. Steve gives a half hearted squeeze back, and Eddie pulls Steve's hand to his chest and holds it tenderly between his own. 

"All we can do is try," Eddie whispers against their hands, tracing circles across Steve's knuckles just as Steve had done for him. "You can't change your past. And yes, I realize the irony of that statement seeing as we're currently in the past, but," He halts his movements against Steve's hand to face him, Steve already staring when he goes to look. "As much as I hated to admit it before, and as much as it still surprises me now, you're good, Steve Harrington," A wounded noise breaks out of Steve and he leans a fraction closer towards Eddie as if trying to live off his words. "You're good. You're kind, and gentle, and you care about those kids more than anyone I've ever met. You couldn't have known what would happen with Barb. And you're living for her now, which is what matters," The tears brimming in Steve's eyes finally break free at the mention of Barb's name. Eddie lets his composure shatter at the sight, and presses a light kiss to Steve's knuckles.

"You live for her everyday through those kids, through everyone you're so desperate to protect from the things you've witnessed, the people you've lost. What happens- happened to me, it's not your fault. And it won't be again," Steve's shaking his head in little jerking motions that send waves of hair falling in front of his eyes. His hand squeezes between Eddie's and when Steve stops to look at him, the shattered expression is still there but this time it's sewed together with determination.

"You can't," Steve chokes, his grip strong with calloused grief. "We can't lose again, it can't happen. We can't lose you- it can't happen. Promise me it won't," Steve's pleading, their faces inches from each other and Steve's tears are catching on the ridges of his nose and the divot above his quivering lip. Eddie's own cheeks are wet with trails of salt water, and he can't help but clutch Steve's hand to his chest. 

"Stevie," He starts, and instantly regrets his next words. "I can't. You know I can't, my fate is practically sealed," His words are hoarse as Steve falls somehow closer to him, their skin buzzing with the proximity and the mourning in Eddie's words. Steve chokes.

"Lie to me."

Eddie chokes. Grips Steve harder and squeezes his eyes shut.

"I promise."

It wrenches a sob from both of them, their foreheads falling together and their hands clutched between them as they suffocate on grief. It's strange to be mourning his own death with a man he didn't talk to a mere week ago, yet their lives have become so intertwined that Eddie can't imagine going through this with anyone else. It's a broken sort of bond that comes with loss, and it's a little surreal to have someone other than his Uncle or Hellfire care this much. Grieve this much.

They're clutching pieces of each other, Steve's hand still wrapped in Eddie's, Steve's other hand tangling in the hair at the nape of Eddie's neck, Eddie's other hand pulling at the collar of Steve's soft blue tee. Their tears cling to their jaws and fall in droplets of the worst kind of rain on the concrete, a few dropping over the edge to mix with the chlorine. Eddie feels the tremor of Steve's sobs all the way up his spine and into his skull, buzzing in his forehead where they're still connected. The ache in their lungs lasts both an eternity and a minute as the tremors and initial grief settles into something worse yet also softer in their bones. It's almost acceptance. But Eddie knows it isn't. 

Eddie blinks a few times and waits for his vision to stop swimming, Steve's breath tickling his cheek on every exhale just as Eddie's sure he's doing the same to Steve. Their grasp on each other is heavy in a way that would take years to undo, and Eddie can't stop staring at the way Steve's cheeks are flushed from crying. They're tinged pink across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, and his lips are slick from tears. Another stray tear falls from Steve's eyelashes and Eddie gently raises the hand from his shirt to brush the tear away. Steve leans into the touch and blinks his eyes open, his gaze jumping between Eddie's eyes and back down.

Eddie wills his heart to slow. The edge of mourning is not an opportune time to notice the smoothness of Steve's skin or the flecks of green at the center of his eyes or the way his lips hang open just enough. 

But. 

Steve is staring at him like he's an answer to something. He's flitting his gaze across Eddie's face, bouncing from eye to eye and landing on his lips, and he's leaning into Eddie's hand still touching his cheek, his skin warm under the movement of Eddie's thumb. He's swaying into Eddie's space, all warmth and softness and presence, and when Steve tilts his head up just a little their noses brush. His lips are parted in a way that would fit the apple from the garden of Eden, ripe and red and tempting. And Eddie is starving. 

"Steve," Eddie whispers, more air than voice. Steve doesn't look up from his lips, just tilts his head farther into Eddie's hand. He noses up the ridge of Eddie's nose, Steve's eyelashes brushing against his cheek as he leans a breath closer. Eddie wants to scream.

He thumbs Steve's cheek and pulls just soft enough to guide Steve closer, both basking in the warmth of the other's skin and touch. Steve puffs a breath over Eddie's lips, close enough to feel the sparks between their skin. It's electricity and kindness and grief, and Eddie wants nothing more than to take a bite out of the apple. 

What was left of the space between them dissipates as Eddie leans in just enough to brush their lips together, their tear stained skin sticking to each other. It's more of a touch than a kiss; just enough to test the waters, to get a taste of temptation. It's featherlight and golden, a gentle brush of just their top lips. Just to feel. Enough to know that Eddie needs to swallow him whole.

Eddie slides the hand that was cupping Steve's cheek around to the back of neck and runs his fingers through the hair curling there, pulling ever so slightly closer. He's about to bridge the gap between an almost kiss and a real kiss -capture Steve's golden light and sinful lips- when Eddie's vision whites out with a crack of lightning and a shock that rips through his skin. 

He lets out a cry and pulls away from Steve to claw at his forehead, frantically scratching and pulling at his skin. There's hornets stinging behind his eyes and biting at his skull, and all he can feel is pain and bright sharpness. It sends a ringing scream through his body that Eddie can barely hear over the pain, sucked into the shards of glass running up his veins and the feeling of acid biting at his skin. It's a sucking, endless feeling, like every bit of energy is being pulled from him and replaced with screeching tones and hot sand that's dissolving him bit by bit. 

There's a pressure on his arm and through his staticky tunneled vision he sees Max pulling him up. He can't tell what she's saying, nor can he really see her face, can just make out the shape of fiery red hair. She pulls him up to a half-sitting-half-fetal position. She says something, but it may as well be in a different language. Eddie's being simultaneously cut open and burned from the inside out, his head is switched to ten different radio stations that just play static interluded with guest appearances from the depths of hell, and every inch of his skin is on fire. 

Well, Eddie thinks, so much for that kiss. Which is honestly a ridiculous thing to think about when he's on the verge of death, but well, he's a little resigned to his fate. He doesn't want to go through another week or month or year of waiting for something to strike, having episodes of seizures brought on by dark dimensional wizards and whatever the fuck is happening right now. But still. It would've been nice.

His mind swims in an attempt to distract from the blades slicing through his brain, and Eddie thinks he's either become accustomed to it or he's actually dying this time. Again. His body is trembling from the pain and with the way his throat feels raw he thinks he's been screaming this whole time, and he just wants it to be over. Sorry Steve, he thinks. And then.

Fuck. Steve. Steve who is tied to the same freaky upside down shit Eddie is, who is probably about a foot away from him right now and going through something very similar if not the exact same thing. 

Eddie pries his eyes a fraction of an inch open which forces out a guttural shriek at the burn raging in his skull, but can once again make out the vague shape of Max still holding him to her chest. There's two other figures of what Eddie assumes Steve and Dustin huddled together in front of him, someone's hand flexing and shaking over Eddie's leg. Another figure is crouched in front of them with one hand facing the pool and one hand towards all four of them. Supergirl.

Through shaking screams and burning skin, Eddie's eyes manage to clear a little despite the constant influx of tears overflowing to soothe the burn that doesn't seem to exist to anyone else. Supergirl is whipping her head between the group of them huddled on the ground and the edge of the pool, and with a scream she plunges one hand into the water and slaps the other on top of Steve's hand that's covering Eddie's shin.

Her fingers dig into Eddie's shin and imprint Steve's palm into Eddie's skin where his sweats have ridden up, and the sensation shocks a cold into his skin that pulses up his body like menthol and chili, the sensation enough to make him convulse inward. The striking cold scrapes along his skull, and suddenly Eddie can see again. The vague figures of traumatized teenagers snap into view and the water in his eyes clears after a second, and Eddie can see the moment it happens for Steve too. The agony on Steve's face smoothes into concern as Dustin keeps yelling likely non-urgent questions at him and shakes at his shoulder. The pain under Eddie's skin is still there, but the burning fires of hell have extinguished into a more manageable stove top fire mishap. His head is fogged and achy, but the ringing and sharpened static in his ears has faded to a manageable level where he can make out at least fifty percent of the noise around him. 

Max must notice the difference since she removes her vice grip from his shoulders and leans over to scan across his face. He can see her getting ready to ask if he's okay when Supergirl lets out a howling shriek and throws her head back, crumpling in on herself yet keeping her arms strong against their skin and the water. Steve scrambles up first to Supergirl's side, casting a quick glance into the pool before muttering a string of expletives under his breath and turning to Eddie.

"I need your lighter," He says, and Eddie guesses his voice is in the same commanding urgency he uses everytime the world ends. Eddie shakily reaches a hand across the concrete and fumbles with the lighter a little, giving it a trembling toss over to Steve. Eddie notices the shaking in Steve's hands too, the residual coals left burning under their skin. Steve wastes no time getting to his feet, his balance slightly off kilter but putting no damper on the speed at which he rushes to the door and throws it open, careening to the right and into the kitchen. 

Supergirl lets out another cry that pulls Max away from Eddie's side, Dustin already there with her by the edge of the pool. Eddie's pulse is jumping again as he notices the tinge of black around her fingertips, the way it courses ever so slightly up her veins. Steve appears again through the glass doorway with a can of cooking spray in one hand, Eddie's melted lighter in the other. Steve throws out an arm to shove the kids away from the edge of the pool as he crumples to his knees, slamming the cap of the spray on the ground to knock it off and flicking the spark wheel before spraying directly into the flame and emitting a giant fireball that flushes Eddie's face with heat. 

Steve aims another fireball into the pool as Eddie struggles to get himself fully upright, clawing his way over to the edge with the rest of them. Supergirl is still letting out shrieks here and there, both her palms flexed towards the water with Max and Dustin holding her steady on either side. Eddie gets to the lip of the pool and peers over the edge to see some sort of bubbling sludge that he loathes to recognize. It's forming from what looks like three points, the dark matter forming tendrils that climb towards the surface, towards them. Steve shoots another stream of fire across the water and Eddie watches as the tendrils recoil and hiss from the sensation. 

Steve shoves the can and lighter into Eddie's hands and fixes him with an urgent stare. "Keep spraying," is all he says before disappearing back into the house with his usual grace of a reformed jock. Eddie spots other tendrils rising from the depths of the water to join the surface, and aims his half empty bottle of cooking spray at the largest section, frantically flicking the wheel to spark it. The lighter sputters with a small spark, but no flame.

He strikes the wheel again. Spark. Sputter. Nothing.

Strike. Spark. Nothing.

Strike-

"What the fuck is taking so long, Munson?" Max hollers from beside him, her arms wrapped protectively around Supergirl's shoulders. Supergirl shrieks and the sludge hisses, shrinking a little.

"I'm fucking trying, okay?! It's finicky-" Eddie sparks the lighter two more times still with no luck before Max reaches over and snatches both the lighter and the cooking spray out of his hand. She strikes it twice, the lighter coming to life with a bright orange flame and fanning over the pool with a whoosh as she lets out a stream of cooking spray. She doesn't stop after one stream of fire, instead endlessly holding down the nozzle of the spray and effectively flambéing the matter bubbling on the surface of the water.

"Useless goddamn-" Max mutters as a tendril shrinks in on itself and melts in tandem Supergirl's yell. "-Everything myself," Max drops to her knees and sprays directly at the lip of the pool, burning off a trail of sludge that was trying to slither over. Eddie is terrified of her.

Steve bolts back out of the door with what looks like 2 cans of women's hairspray and another lighter. He barely spares a confused glance between Max and Eddie, but shoves a can at him anyways and flicks the lighter to life between them. Supergirl and Dustin are still slightly farther back in the middle of the group, Dustin practically holding her up as she slowly shrinks back the growing mass of  tendrils. Max has worked her way to the edge on the left now, maniacal and determined in a way that makes Eddie think maybe she should talk to somebody about it.

Eddie and Steve stay on the right, Steve holding the lighter between them as he shoots a stream of fire into the middle. Eddie decides to shoot at the edges by the lip of the pool, the sludge still creeping out despite its mandatory near constant regeneration from the combination of the fire and whatever the fuck sort of telekinesis Supergirl is pulling off. 

"Is this even gonna work?" Eddie yells, struggling to spray his hairspray through the flame instead of beside it due to their shared custody of the lighter.

"Fire's their biggest weakness, it's all we got," Steve's voice is crackly but still carries the urgency from before as he shoots out towards a tendril rising out of the water, effectively burning it in half as it crumples back to the surface.

There's a clinking noise to his left, and then, "Fuck!" As Max chucks her can to the side and lets it rattle against the ground. "I'm empty," She says, her face fear stricken with only a small facade over it as she glances between Supergirl still shaking against Dustin and Eddie across from her. Eddie hucks his can over to her and hears the almost empty rattle of the can in the wind.

"I'm almost out, but there's still a bit left," Eddie says as he stares into the pool, the mass of sludge smaller than when they started, but not small enough to take out with two half-empty cans of hairspray. Steve's can starts to sputter a moment later, Max's new can likely soon to follow. Steve curses under his breath and aims the last consistent spurt of hairspray at the middle of the mass, left only to shoot small bursts of fire until the can's empty.

"Shit, this one's running low too," Max has given up her tactic of one steady stream of fire in favor of small bursts similar to Steve, both of them shaking the can in between sprays. Eddie hears Dustin gasp to his left and turns just in time to see Supergirl lurch away from him and plunge her hands into the slime. Her fingertips flex at the edge of the sludge and it lets out a withering hiss at the contact, Supergirl seeming to feel the same painful connection as her shoulders seize up and she tosses her neck back. 

"El!" Dustin calls and grips onto her shoulders to keep her from tipping into the pool, Supergirl clawing her hands in farther anyways. It rips a scream from her and it rattles in Eddie's ears, echoing off his skull. Her shriek cuts off with a gasp as her head drops forward and her arms go limp, the rest of the fire being sucked from the cans and into the mass of tendrils the second she drops. The suction makes Eddie's ears pop and he watches as the rest of the tendrils collapse in on themselves in a matter of seconds, endlessly folding together in a sick slide of black and blue until nothing remains in the pool. The last thing to disappear is three heavy black drops of slime closest to the edge of the pool, the droplets imploding and ceasing to exist.

The moment it's over both Steve and Max collapse at Supergirl's feet, Steve doing the primary flitting and worrying. There's a stream of blood trailing from her nose down to her chin and it's left spattered drops on the pavement. Her eyes are closed and she's panting against the embrace of Dustin and Max, Steve staying in front of her and tilting her head side to side, checking her fingernails and her pulse. Eddie stays awkwardly off to the side, opting instead to sit a couple feet away and attempt to compartmentalize the past ten or so minutes. 

His skin feels fuzzy again, but moreso in a familiar anxiety way than an interdimensional way. He feels lost in the staticy feeling running through his body, letting his vision cloud a little and get lost in the now normal ripples of the water. He thinks he's breathing again.

Steve enters his field of vision, hands up like he's approaching a wild animal and pace slow and intentional. "You feeling okay?" He asks and all Eddie can muster is a nod in return. He looks over at Supergirl. 

"She gonna be okay?" Eddie asks and lets himself relax a little at Steve's contented nod.

"Exhausted, definitely, but El'll be fine. We should get her somewhere safe though, who knows what else is tied to this place," Eddie's previous stare into the pool is echoed in Steve's face, both of their expressions a blank sort of anxious.

Steve tears his gaze away from the pool and towards Eddie, extending a hand to help him up. Steve's hand is warm in Eddie's when he takes it and lets himself be pulled up and into Steve's space, relishing in the closeness for only a second before stepping away. Now is most certainly not the time. Not that it would've been before, either. Steve coughs as Eddie steps back and gestures behind him, returning to El who's looking slightly more alert in Dustin and Max's arms, eyelids still heavy though and head lolling onto Max's shoulder. Steve says something to the three of them in a gentle and hushed tone that Eddie doesn't quite catch before scooping El up and tucking her into his chest to bring her inside.

Max and Dustin watch them go, Max getting up first and turning to look at Eddie. She sees the concern on his face before Eddie even realizes it's there, fixing him with a glare and stuffing her shaky hands into the pockets of her shorts.

"I'm fine," She says with a sneer and Eddie puts his hands up in surrender, watching her turn heel to follow Steve and El inside. Dustin does less to hide the fact that he's shaken up, getting up slowly from the ground and shaking out his arms. His breaths are trembling at the end of his exhales, and Eddie just wants to whisk each of these kids away from a seemingly endless childhood of Eldritch trauma. 

Eddie gently wraps an arm around Dustin's shoulder, simply quietly giving him support as he lets the kid breathe. Dustin melts into his side, Eddie in turn just melting in general, and rubs circles into his back. 

"Wanna go sit inside?" Eddie asks as hushed as possible, leaning in just for Dustin to hear. Dustin heaves another breath with a weak nod of his head and pulls away from Eddie but not out of arm's reach. Eddie offers a weak smile and a squeeze on the shoulder as they join the other's in the living room.

El is laid out on the couch with Max sitting on the floor next to her and dabbing at the blood drying around her nose, both with easy fragile smiles and gentle touches. Eddie does not let Max see him looking. Dustin joins them at the foot of the couch and Eddie stands awkwardly in between for a second before spotting Steve around the corner at the phone. 

"...For the most part, yeah. I just don't want anyone staying here… Yeah of course… And I know that we're- well, thank you… Yeah. In about ten. Thank you so much," Steve hangs up with a click as he puts the handheld back down, wringing out his hands and then running them through his hair. He scrubs his hands down his face and takes a moment to breathe a heavy sigh before Eddie sneaks out a bit more from behind the corner to make himself known. Steve catches Eddie out of the corner of his eye and startles anyway with a small jump and a hand to his throat like he's a '50's housewife clutching his pearls. The gesture is both endearing and oddly fitting.

"Fuckin' scared me, man," Steve says and swaps his startled expression for an easy smile that makes Eddie's heart jump. "Just got off the phone with Robin, she's very nicely gonna let us stay at her's for the night despite not really knowing me here. Said her parents are out for dinner with friends and will likely end up crashing at a friend's house," Steve laughs and cards his fingers through his hair again. "She says they're more like teenagers than she is," Eddie gives a half-hearted smile that he tries to pass off as normal, but Steve's brow furrows at it. "You okay?" 

Eddie worries his lip between his teeth and pointedly does not notice Steve glance down for a second. "It's just- do you think it'll follow us there? Like, it's tied to this house and probably mine, but also us, right? Is switching locations gonna be enough?" Eddie's voice comes out raw and full of worry despite his best efforts to keep it even, Steve grimacing at him.

"I don't know. But what I do know is we can't get back without El, and she needs rest. Our best bet is getting away from any sort of previous gate or tie to the upside down, and I think Robin is it. She didn't get involved until this year, and it was only ever at Starcourt, nothing happened at her home. Plus, she's far enough from any of the gates that I think it's probably our safest choice," Steve shudders and stares at his feet for a second, then turning an intense gaze to Eddie. "I can't guarantee any sort of total safety. But anything will be better than here for them."

Eddie nods and breaks the eye contact, Steve still staring for a second before dropping his eyes. He fiddles with the drawstring of his sweatpants and toes at the panels of hardwood before narrowing a determined gaze back on Eddie.

"Also I-" Steve swallows and makes an aborted movement towards Eddie, Eddie still just stuck staring and praying he isn't about to have the conversation he thinks they're about to have. He's about to get rejected for his weird almost-kiss and have to play it off like it was just end of the world jitters.

What? Why would you think I wanted to kiss you, Harrington? That was just an accident. You know, how you accidentally share tender and gentle kisses with people you've known for about a week and then have to save the world with?

"I just wanted to- uh…" Steve starts again with no more luck finishing his sentence than last time, just looking semi-awkwardly into Eddie's eyes. Eddie shuffles his feet a little and waits in awkward straight-dude agony for this to be over.

"You just wanted to…?" Eddie tries to help, rip off the bandaid if he must, but Steve just shakes his head and hums.

"Just- wanted to tell you to grab any stuff you need for the night, I'll go tell the kids and I'll meet you at the car," Steve doesn't look at him as he finishes the sentence, practically bolts past Eddie with a clap on the shoulder and rounds the doorway into the living room. Eddie tries not to let it sting too much as he trudges upstairs to retrieve his still sopping clothes.  Fucking awesome. He managed to make Armageddon awkward.

_______

This fic is almost done! If i write something this long again I won't be uploading chapters to tumblr, but I will post the Ao3 links so keep an eye out for that.

TAG LIST (reply to be added): @estrellami-1 @melodymeddler @songbird-garden @gregre369 @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @bestwifehaver @mediguro @goodolefashionedloverboi @huniiibee @rhyswritesreadsandcries @i-have-three-feelings @mightbeasleep @grtwdsmwhr @hirikka @starlight-archer @clumsiluni @celestialrebel1 @quarble @woolley-socks

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #shovel writes

[robininthelabyrinth]

One aspect I ABSOLUTELY love about time travel fics are when outside characters reacting to the time traveller. If you don't mind, I think it would be really interesting if post canon nhs and lxc time travelled and nmj is just in a state of "??????" the entire time. Btw can I say I've been reading your fics for a few months and I really like how you write and structure your stories. You know how to make any story so interesting and so compelling to read, always a nice delight to my day <3

Maybe they slept together.

Nie Mingjue was minorly horrified by the thought the first time it crossed his mind – that was his little brother and best friend he was thinking about – but after the initial refusal and resistance, he’d thought it over some more and the idea was starting to seem less and less crazy.

After all, something had to explain why both Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen both simultaneously started acting incredibly weird, and Nie Mingjue was starting to run out of other possible explanations.

This one seemed to fit, though – as long as he assumed that they’d promptly gotten into a fight over it afterwards.

Yes, that fit. Nie Huaisang had suddenly gotten a lot more protective of him (as if Nie Mingjue needed his kid brother protecting him, rather than the other way around), and he was especially snarky whenever Nie Mingjue’s new sworn brothers were around, almost vicious about it. And Lan Xichen, who normally reacted to just about everything with patience and calm, was snarky back – it was getting to the point that even Jin Guangyao was starting to look to Nie Mingjue as if he had an answer, which he really, really didn’t.

It didn’t help that Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen seemed to suddenly have a shared language all their own, full of oblique mentions and obscure references that seemed to mean a lot to the two of them but which were completely opaque to everyone else: something about turmoil? A Guanyin temple? Dongying being pleasant this time of year?

(Nie Mingjue hadn’t even known that Nie Huaisang had known that Dongying even existed as anything other than a source for dirty books!)

It was all jabs and quips and glares, yes, but rather notably it was all that within their own special couple’s world to which no one else was invited – not even when Nie Mingjue questioned them for an explanation, all his efforts met with reassurances that nothing was the matter and he had no cause for concern.

Yeah, right.

No, in short: they’d probably slept with each other.

“That’s what I figured as well,” Jin Guangyao said when Nie Mingjue mentioned his theory to him. He seemed discouraged, even disappointed – perhaps Nie Mingjue’s suspicion that Jin Guangyao had had a crush on Lan Xichen was correct. “A lovers’ tiff seems likely. You wouldn’t get that level of passion without it being something like that.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, having no idea if that was correct or not. His Nie family tended to get to that level of passion over who had first rights to the last really good cut of meat.

“How’s it going with your father? Anything I can do to help?” he asked, forced out of the sheer awkwardness of the moment to try to make small talk, though from the surprised and pleased expression on Jin Guangyao’s face it seemed like he had taken Nie Mingjue’s words more seriously than Nie Mingjue had really meant them. Not that that was a problem – had Jin Guangyao somehow not realized that their sworn brotherhood meant that he could rely on Nie Mingjue’s assistance in things…?

Well, whatever. If it meant getting away from Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang’s whole thing, he’d do just about anything, even go spend time with Jin Guangyao.

It wasn’t like the two feuding lovebirds would even notice they were gone…

#mdzs #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #lan xichen #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #alt headcanons

[mondstaub1]

Modern/ABO Lucemond fanfiction

- When Viserys died he left everything to his daughter, brother and grandkids (Rhaenyras kids of corse) several houses and mansions around the world, his company, his money, stocks .... all in all several millions $

- So Alicent and her kids were left with nothing and in a terrible finacel situation since:

- Aegon (beta) was a highschool dropout with a alcohol and gambeling problem

- Alicent (omega) never worked before (she was a gold digger, or used as one, that is up for discussion)

- Daeron was in middle school (alpha)

- Helaena (beta) had graduated from highschool but had problems with autism (everyone else had problems she is just so sweet, not her fault her family can't see that) so she was working part time with kids

- Aemond (omega) was about to finsh highschool and since he could not bare to leave his family could not go to collage

- Otto is dead (we are all so sad) (Daemon problably threw a party)

- So they moved into a small aparment and tried to find work with was difficult for several reasons, mostly their lack of experience, Aegons drinking problem and the fact that most people were freaked out by Aemonds eyepatch

- All of them got paid the bare minimum wgrn the had jobs and whenever they had a bite saved up Aegon would spend it on himself

- So in his desperation Aemond used his status as an Omega and got a job as a dancer at a stripp club (Alicent nearly fainted)

- He danced behind a one way mirror so he never saw who he danced for and who it was his was undressing himself for (no touching ever)

- Aemond also took hormons to make his chest and ass grow (he hated the way it made him feel and look but he needed the money)

- Meanwhile Rhaenyra, Daemond and their family ran the buisness and slowly everyone grew up - Jace (beta) studied business to one day take over the company

- Luke after turning out to be an alpha to everyones suprise went to Driftmark to study merean biology and he learnt how to sail from his grandfather

- Joffrey beta got into highschool and played sports (he already had offers from collages for a full scolorship -

- Aegon and Viserys got into a privat school which they enjoyed and Visenya enjoyed her life as Rhaenyras youngest and daddys little girls with lots of sibling so spoil her (not presented)

- Baela (alpha) became an aphlate and Rhaena (omega) studied language and traveled

- After Luke graduated and passed his sailer purment Jace and some of Lukes friend dragged him to a stripped club (guess with one)

- They insisted Luke should have some fun and hired a stripper for a privat dance, they heard of a stripper nicknamed ,,The pirat" and thought it would be perfect to celebrat Luke offically becoming a sailer.

- Luke blushed but let himself be talked into it and the moment he saw the half naked omega through the one way mirror he felt his jaw drop, because in front of him dancinging in the most suductive poses was his oncle whom he had not seen since he was 14

- Aemond had chanced, he used to be so scary and intimidating and now he was dancing around a pole in a string tanger and a BH that seemed so small, well that did not matter when he took it of.

- Luke knew he sould look away but he couldn't and he didn't want to.

- The last time they talked Aemond told him he was a dirty bastard and his mother a whore, so this felt like sweet karma and honestly Aemond was hot

- So Luke sat there hard and with a shit eating grin, watching his uncle dance

- Once it was over Luke claped an said "Wow uncle, it's so nice to see you again. Even if I honestly didn't expect to see so much"

- Aemond went first pale and then red before he grabbed his underwear and ran away mortified

- Luke couldn't help but chuckel before going back to his brother and friends, but he decided not to tell anyone about Aemond.

- Aemonds heart nearly stopped when he heard the voice of his nephew, it had been years since the had seen each other but somehow he know instandly that it was Lucerys. Blood shot into his face once he became aware of the state he was in and so he flet, like the coward he once acussed Luke of being.

- His face burned, his intire body burned with shame, how was Luke even hear? This had to be a nightmare. But it wasn't and he knew it.

- At the end of the shift one of his coworkers aproched him and handed him money, saying it was a tip from one of his clients. Aemond knew immediatly from whom it was.

-He wanted to throw it away but he was not in a situation in with he could turn down money, so he took the 200$, feeling dirtier then ever before.

- The next day at breakfeast his mother anounced that they would meet with Rhaenrya at their old home, to celebrate Lukes graduation.

-Aemond wanted to die, he didn't want to face Lucerys, he didn't know it he could but it seems like he had no choice.

- On the other end of town Luke was grinning after this mother told him his aunte and uncle would attend the party thown in his honor. He could no wait to see Aemond again.

#aemond x lucerys #hotd #lucemond #mortification #pole dancer Aemond #sailer Lucerys #modern au #a/b/o fanfic #rich Lucerys

[lovable-bastard]

Some ideas that anyone can use

(w/ credit, you can change whatever you want) (i also may or may not write them)

Merlin

How We Change and Not

Basically BBC's Merlin, but with the parent's. The whole plot follows the love/hate relationship of Balinor & Uther, the immediate friendship of Ygraine & Balinor, the mutual hatred between Hunith & Uther and the suprise love of Ygraine & Uther. Some quest's and adventures on the side like the original series. Angst, fluff, banter, all that good stuff.

Over the Year

On new years eve Arthur comes back, to the suprise of Merlin and Leon (Immortal Leon for the win❗). Over the course of 2023 the knights come back, in their own "very them" ways, learn about the new world and learn to live in peace.

I just want the knights to come back and live a normal peaceful life!!! Also Merthur, but it's a side-plot. Because I love some found-family and platonic love.

New Old

S5!Merlin time travels to the past and try's to make this reality better (I can and will ignore the possible danger of it and I know you will to), while S1!Merlin gets a new mentor (can I call S5!Merlin a mentor?) and S1!Arthur gets gay panic every five minutes.

Merthur, reveal done early, Arthur accepting magic on his own pace, Morgana and Mordred getting the support they need, what else could you want :D !!!

Don't have name for this one yet

Based on the ep where we find Mordred, but instead of Mordred going into hiding he finds Merlin first, who pretends to be his brother. Mordred grows up in Camelot and never turns evil (and so doesn't Morgana), Merlin and Morgana become like older siblings to him, Arthur gets jealous, because they look like a family.

Just a fix-it fic, that I need :')

Glowing Like Gold In My Dreams

Reincarnated!Arthur and Reincarnated!Merlin have dreams of their past life, but they see different parts of it. By that I mean, in life Arthur saw Merlin as a lovable idiot, so now Merlin will dream of the more light-hearted moments, while Merlin saw Arthur as strong, funny, confident and generous and now Arthur will dream of the Merlin that past Arthur never got to see, at least not that much. And they both make art of it. Arthur paints beautiful paintings of his dreams that are all about Merlin and show how amazing he is. Merlin makes music with his band (he plays the violin and piano) about the funny, confident, kind, sarcastic dumbass that he dreams of and fell for.

(sorry for the longer explanation 😅 I just really like this idea and sorry for the maybe shit explanation it's 3:51 (am) and don't worry they do meet)

A Bouquet of Hydrangea's, Yellow and Red Rose's

Arthur gets turned into his 12 year old self, meets Merlin, who showers him with endless love and attention. Needless to say Arthur is confused, but doesn't want this strange man to ever leave. Arthur starts to love Merlin as a father more then his own, he seeks out Merlins approvel more then Uthers, his love, time, affection. And Merlin gives it to him with no problem.

(this summary sucked) Basically Arthur gets turned into his 12 year old self and Merlin acts like a father to him. Arthur gets attached. Arthur learns how to trust and love freely again. Oh and Merlin doesn't mind being seen as a father figure, he's suprised at first, but gets used to it.

Harry Potter

Wtf Is a Weasley?

Just a short fic about harry having his father's eyes & mother's hair and of course being confused as a Weasley by everyone. Even the Weasley's themselves.

Harry Potter and the Fucked Up Wizarding World

Harry at the age of 5 gets safed from the Dursleys and taken in by the Wilson's.

Until the age of 17 everything was wonderful! He had loving parents, one sibling that was his age and a family dog! But one day he meets 3 people who tell Harry what he is. A wizard. Of course he doesn't believe it in the beginning, but they prove that magic is real (they cast a 1st year spell).

Now he has to somehow fix the magic world and not fuck up.

#merthur #arthur pendragon #merlin #merlin emrys #the adventures of merlin #bbc merlin #merlin and arthur #my writing #balinor #hunith #mordred #ygraine pendragon #uther pendragon #time travel #fanfic #arthur pendragon comes back #so do the knights #immortal leon #harry potter #harry potter fic #ron and harry #harry and hermione

[tanoraqui]

this stunning art says it’s time for my long-awaited (to me) extended headcanon breakdown of the kings of the Noldor

Finwe

Finwë was a good king, he really was. He was responsible, inspiring; he dared to trust and to explore; he was probably even pretty good at administration and politics

He led his people through dark lands to light and they loved him for it

He just could NOT apply these skills to family. Perhaps because he loved them all too dearly to put his foot down properly, perhaps because he kept hoping that in the promised land of bliss it would all somehow work out...but his family WAS politics...

And Feanor kinda WAS the favorite, but also the child most obviously in need of care so he got the attention for that too...

Finwe was a good king but a merely alright father, overall

Though he did try

Fëanor

Fêanor would've been, was, a terrible king and Fingolfin was SO right to say so. Fëanáro 'constantly traveling' Curufinwë. Fëanáro 'okay, buckling d- ooh what’s THAT academic/crafting/parental discipline? I bet I can revolutionize it!' Curufinwë (and then he does, of course). Fëanáro “if I sublimate all grief and guilt into victimized rage, I never even have to think about the process” Curufinwë.

This elf had 20 char, 20 int, and 10 wis at best, and alas the char+int made people THINK he'd be a good king when he insisted loudly and eloquently

But they and he were WRONG! 

Fëanor has only ever read and/or signed paperwork out of spite

Fëanor would do much better as that Miles Vorkosigan kind of character, where he’s close to the throne, loved dearly and trusted utterly, but not given any sort of desk job, and instead just kind of aimed at problems sometimes while everyone else sits back and waits for the inevitable, hopefully beneficial explosions

Fingolfin

Fingolfin was a good king. He had a natural knack for responsibility, practicality, foresight, complex problems and politics, and if he wasn't as naturally charismatic as Fëanor (no one was) he was still damn compelling, and he worked at building alliances

Fingolfin studied debate like a craft. Fëanor's speeches could rile a crown but Fingolfin's rhetoric could make you forget you'd walked into this room with a different position. The only one who could out-argue him was Anairë

(Fingolfin may or may not have developed entire rhetorical strategies, ie, honed the ability to be antagonizingly calm and logical, for the primary purpose of pissing off Fëanor. It worked.)

The Noldor would do entirely well with Fingolfin as king forever. He wants the job and he wants to do it well, with intelligence and care, so he would. Whatever natural talents he lacks, he appends himself to acquiring. He would even check and balance himself so as to not lose control like either his father or his...Fëanor

(the Ice was a very good time for asking oneself things like “why am I doing this” and “what could I have done better”, and he carefully maintained the habit in Beleriand, and afterward)

Fingolfin thinks he has the capacity to be calm about things but actually it’s a lie that he tells so well he convinces even himself, until he does something like completely snap, personally challenge Morgoth to a duel, and permanently injure him with his dying blow.

Finarfin

Left out of this art but i'm including him anyway! Finarfin never wanted this goddamn job. 

Finarfin wanted to live on the beach with his beautiful wife and children, and go home to his family for working holidays (working bc extended birth family). Finarfin is the ONLY child of Finwë born with a natural capacity to be Chill and not need to impress everyone he meets. (Possible other exception: Lalwen.)

Nonetheless, Finarfin rose to the challenge when he needed to, and after centuries of experience he's very good at it. He has a knack for finding the best people to delegate to, which is an UNDERVALUED skill especially in his overachieving family

Finarfin is also the only member of his immediate family who unironically enjoys reading reports and signing paperwork. It’s peaceful. Does nobody else appreciate peaceful things? (They do not.)

Also he's secretly simmering with resentment, rage and vengeance and one day i WILL write about him kicking Morgoth's ass personally, with the help of all his few remaining relatives at the end of the First Age (which wins him a few points with the still-hardline Fëanorians when they get out of Mandos)

(That said, most of Finarfin’s reputation for skilled peace-making in tumultuous early Second Age Valinor was based on him sending his eldest son to talk to the most fiercely squabbling factions, because almost every variation of Elven kindred came out of the First age liking or at least grudgingly respecting Finrod)

skipping the obvious next in line for a moment to talk about Fingon

In an ideal world, Fingon would never have been king

Yes, he was swayed by the idea of exploring new lands and ruling them in his own right - but he was also in his elf!mid-20s and still living with his parents or at least firmly under their dominion, and that of his grandfather and the Valar. Of course so many of these people wanted to get away to somewhere more independent, royalty and not! And it’s inescapably noticeable that when he got to Middle Earth, all his notable acts were as his father’s field general, not as Lord of Dor-lomin - a fief later given to Men anyway - and the great alliance formed during his brief tenure as High King was the Union of Maedhros…

Fingon could be a decent king, if he had to be, but only in the unexplored post-story way that often happens to protagonists after they save the kingdom and get the girl, where in your practical heart you know that they wouldn’t really be able to enact all the reforms one might dream of...

Because Fingon’s proper role in a story isn’t kingship - it’s to be a Hero. He climbs the dark mountain and rescues the missing prince, with a song, a knife and a prayer. He leads the defeat of the orc army and he figures out how to fend off the dragon. He is valiant and a loyal friend; all who meet him know it immediately and cannot help but love him for it.

And for both of these features he challenges the Enemy at his door and so dies, and the High Kingship of the Noldor in Beleriand dies with him

Turgon

...because I love Turgon, I do. Turgon’s natural state is to be an upper-middle-class dad, mayor of a medium-sized town whose re-election is never challenged, who often takes afternoons off to take his daughter to doctor appointments or soccer games. Turgon should get to wear the most expensive jackets in the Land’s End catalogue. Turgon, I think, was a much happier, open person before Elenwë died on the Ice, and he never forgave the Fëanorians for her death, not unto the end of Arda itself. Turgon is a cat person but he’s best friends with a dog person (despite...hiccups) (to Finrod being a dog person; not to their best-friendship)

And Turgon was a great ruler of Gondolin! 

But the only reason the Quenta Silmarillion acknowledges him as a High King is that the Quenta Silmarillion was told mostly by a Gondolindrim

Gil-galad

Like Finarfin, Gil-galad spent much of the Second Age trying to pull endlessly fractal factions of elves into a coherently, or at least non-violently, co-habitating community. Finarfin, however, gets to deal with this mostly in continuous drips and drabbles as people re-embody; Gil-galad had this problem ALL AT ONCE from Day One. One day when Gil-galad re-embodies, they’ll amicably debate who had it rougher

Gil-galad also, like Finarfin with Finrod, 100% cheated by sending Elrond to deal with the most fractious factions, because almost every elf left in Middle Earth at the start of the Second Age was vulnerable to Elrond looking authoritatively Disappointed in them. (Gil-galad was vulnerable to Elrond looking Disappointed in him, albeit not so much the ‘authoritative part. Disappointing Elrond was emotionally tantamount to a capital crime.)

Gil-galad was also very good at managing this chaos in his own right, without alienating anyone and even with generally endearing himself to everyone

Despite [checks wordcount] 21k and counting of AU to the contrary, my preferred Gil-galad headcanon is that he was Just Some Guy from Nargothrond who stepped the fuck up after the city fell. He unofficially led and represented the Noldor in Balar and then more officially during the War of Wrath, possibly while deliberately misleading a wide variety of people with a wide variety of implications about his parentage...and afterwards there was a whole public ceremony where Celebrimbor, Elrond, and Galadriel all declared him “king” and “cousin” and the question never really arose again during his reign.

HOWEVER my TRUE Gil-galad belief is expressed in @herenortherenearnorfar’s excellent fic “Five Gil-Galads Walk Into A Bar”, which proposes that no matter what his parentage, Gil-galad would always turn out roughly the same, because the Noldor (and etc. Second Age elves) needed a king and so he became one.

And he was good at it

But when he re-embodies, he content to leave the High Kinging to someone else, and simply take over managing the sub-kingdom of Tol Eressëa (where they welcome him gladly)

(Potential honorable mention: Lalwen

Lalwen, whose characterization is of course based entirely on headcanon, might be Queen of Tol Eressëa for a few thousand years, unless Finrod gets stuck with the job - but I think he more likely centers his life around Tirion, while ofc traveling a great deal? 

Lalwen doesn’t want to be queen of anything, but she’s the only member of the House of Finwë who survived Beleriand while remaining in good standing with the Valar—good enough to come home, at least. She can do admin, or at least, she can competently delegate admin. She can do politics, second only to Fingolfin in the family for it - she’s no rhetorician nor speechifier, but she has very good people skills. She wants to help make her people’s, all people’s, lives better wherever she can, and she gets along alright with most varieties of Beleriand veterans, and she’ll do her duty if her little brother asks it... But she just does not want to be the one In Charge. She’s so happy when Gil-galas re-embodies.)

And at last, the poor little orange meow-meow of the First Age…Maedhros

Maedhros is ideal High King of the Noldor, or at least, he would’ve been. First let me tropily ramble a bit:

Just as Fingon should never have been King, Maedhros should never have been forced into such a protagonist-y role. It broke them both. In a story that wasn’t a tragedy, Maedhros would’ve been the tier-1 supporting character whom the hero rescues in Act 1 and who then has a compelling but not central character arc, and at the end we know we’ve won because we’ve put him on the throne while the hero retires to the country and/or runs off to have more lighthearted adventures with their new spouse (and/or stays and marries him, @Fingon if you must.) He’s the Jonathan of Conte. The Roy Mustang. The Rhy Maresh (Shades of Magic trilogy, V.E. Schwab, strong rec.) And then in the next-generation series, he’s a Reasonable Authority Figure who’s secretly badass.

Unfortunately, of course, The Silmarillion is not that story.

But there is, I swear, a Better Timeline out there somewhere wherein they just had more time before Morgoth Ungoliant struck. A timeline where Fëanor and Fingolfin had the opportunity to test a tentative truce without the worst circumstances in the world forcing it into overdrive and then breaking. A timeline where that went about as well as expected (ie, poorly), and Finwë soon put up his hands and said, “Alright, you know what, oh my beloved sons you are both demoted; I’m going on extended vacation and Maitimo is ruling Tirion in my absence” - and it would’ve worked because Fëanor would’ve been pleased that it was at least his son (Nelyafinwë indeed, ha!) and Fingolfin would’ve been satisfied that a) it wasn’t Fëanor, who is infuriating AND objectively bad at the job, and b) at least Finwë was treating them equaly for once

And moreover it would’ve worked because canonically Maedhros is the chief inheritor of Fëanor’s crowd-rousing fire, and he also shows Fingolfin’s practicality and responsibility (and tendency to suicide in extremis), and Finarfin’s ability to humble himself in the name of peace for his collective people...an ability to build eclectic but solid alliances best otherwise demonstrated by Finrod and maybe Finwë himself...let’s mine the raw headcanon and say Lalwen’s stubborn loyalty and determination to make everyone get along, and Findis’s possession of a firm moral compass...

It’s just that, of course, the loyalty and responsibility got twisted somewhere along the way, until the moral compass was first shoved to the bottom of a bag and then tossed out entirely, while his blazing spirit carried others along with him, and the losses from that meant that when push really came to shove on humbling himself for a greater cause, he couldn’t see a glimmer of hope that it would work, and...

Maedhros vibe as a king IS “beloved, must-respected, distinctly older brother who won’t start fights but will end them”

The difference between Maedhros as king and Fingolfin as king is mostly that Maedhros has a slightly greater natural affinity for it, especially the crowd-rousing - he’s got that Fëanorian 20 Charisma while Fingolfin is rocking a mere 19. Practically, there’s very little difference - way less difference than, say, Fëanor is happy with, in terms of how his eldest son and eldest half-brother do politics and project management. But Fingolfin is just slightly more studied at it; Maedhros has had to practice, of course, but he more does (older brothery) kingly things as an unthinking default

As mentioned in another post, I like to think that being a naturally skilled healer has always gone hand in hand with leadership in Arda, and Maitimo was no exception, but Angband and Thangodrim just Broke something in him and he never used Song nor any particular craft to heal anyone ever again...until, perhaps, after much healing in Mandos.

I think Maedhros’s surrender of the crown was clever politics, but also pure practicality in that he was well enough to snark about Thingol, practice clever politics, etc, but he wasn’t well enough yet in body or spirit to handle the job of High King of the Noldor as all their fractious fractions settled into a new life of siege warfare in a strange land. But he got better, and in the wake of Dagor Agraleb, there was a conversation like,  Fingolfin: You seem very well again, nephew. Maedhros: I am, thank you for noticing, Uncle. Fingolfin: Are we going to have a problem about that? Maedhros:  Fingolfin:  Maedhros:  Maedhros: No.  Maedhros: But, weirdly thank you for asking.

...But if everyone gets re-embodied eventually, changed forever but newly healthy in it, and has until the end of Arda to gravitate toward the personal ideal forms of their lives...well, for entertainment’s sake, I like to think that Maedhros come out of Mandos very determined to be nothing but a responsible older brother, publicly deferential vassal, and world’s best one-handed house-husband...but these people over here could also use some Responsible Older Brothering...and these people over here...and Fingon doesn’t want to sit in this committee but someone sensible ought to...if no one steps up and manages this new bridge project, it’s never going to get done...Uncle, have you tried this to make the bronzesmiths and the pewtersmiths stop fighting...

One day late(?) Fourth Age, Maedhros is trying to pick the perfect jewelry to match today’s court outfit and Arafinwë pokes his head in to be like, “here, try this” and hands him the High King crown. Maedhros says, “Oh, perfect– wait–” Arafinwë is already sprinting away shouting, “No takebacks! Eärwen and I will be on the beach!”

BUT I also think that sometime in the late Second Age, the semi-meritocratic, ever-insquabbling (like infighting but pettier) artisan guilds of the Noldor, + some political philosophers, give rise to the idea of general democratic elections for high office. So it’s probably a little more complicated than that.

#the silmarillion #finwe #feanor #fingolfin #finarfin #fingon #turgon #gil-galad #maedhros #lalwen #feanor and feanor's kin #eldar #headcanon accepted #ficlet #i DID start bullet-pointing more info about noldorin election politics but i think that'll be separate

[beautifulsnake2162020]

Beautiful Anomaly (Part 2): Morpheus x FReader

(GIF by skulandcrossbones: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/skulandcrossbones/691820696337317888?source=share)

Morpheus x FemReader (present day, its a little hard to explain)

A couple of disclaimers:

1.) This is all based on the Netflix show and I have 0 background on the graphic novel it is based on (so don't expect it to be faithful);

2.) This is a fan work, the only benefit I derive from this is sharing it with the community.

Guess who got inspired and decided to upload this part earlier than expected 😂 As usual the original was way too long so I had to cut it (so yes there is inevitably a part 3 which was originally part of part 2).

Again I would like to thank everyone who loved "Beautiful Anomaly (Part 1)". To those who wants to read part 1 first (which I highly recommend since I'm not sure you could understand part 2 without the context and world building of part 1) you may read it here:

Taglist (if you want to be a part of the taglist just comment requesting so): @winxschester @true-queen-of-mischief @laydreams

You feel Jessamy travel back to the realm of the Dreaming as your physical body is asleep. Seeing the perspective of a raven travelling was an astounding experience. You vaguely remember being a bird once, but that was several eons ago. The plan was that Jessamy would tell Lucienne about what had happened and get possible back up for his rescue.

However

You suddenly feel a gust of pain in your chest. Or rather in Jessamy's chest. It's as if there was a barrier to the gates of the Dreaming.

"Ma'am, I don't understand, this wasn't a problem before." No matter how hard she pushed, the invisible barrier did not allow her to enter.

"Jessamy don't force it, can you still find your way back here?"

"I believe so, I've learned to recognize your energy. Lord Morpheus showed how and he was right; you're very easy to find." So he taught her that too eh.

You briefly awaken and Jessamy had just landed on your window sill.

"I don't understand, why was there a barrier. I don't think Lucienne would do that." You were starting to get legitimately tired when an idea popped up.

"New plan: you rest. I'll inform Lucienne when I enter the dreaming." Jessamy was tired out and simply nodded before gathering some of your clothes and making a bed for herself.

Once you find yourself in the Dreaming, you do your best to summon Lucienne into your part of the Dreaming realm.

However

Something doesn't seem right. It's almost as if you were in a barrier as well. Or rather your dream has been isolated from the dreaming realm.

This can't be because Morpheus is not there. There have been a handful of times when he would meet you or Death outside of the Dreaming in the past and it was nothing like this. Based on what Jessamy has told you, they weren't gone for that long so it shouldn't have any effect on the dreaming realm.

You try transporting yourself to the library. Even if Lucienne isn't there, it was a reliable place to leave a message for Mervyn to deliver to her. But alas you weren't able to do so either.

You wake up puzzled.

"Any luck ma'am?"

"No Jessamy, it seems I too am subject of the barrier. Or rather my area of dreaming is now isolated and beyond my own imagination, I couldn't contact anyone from the castle." Jessamy tilted her head, discerning.

"Maybe ma'am your part of the Dreaming was somehow moved to the waters. Since it has been awhile since you were actively there, your dreams are now in the waters where everyone else dreams are stored. Perhaps that is why you can't summon anyone." She has a point.

"Have you recovered your strength?" You see Jessamy nod back at you.

"Go back to the place where he is imprisoned. Be discreet. The point is to observe the layout of the place, and the habits of those that guard him. No engagement of any kind. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." And she flew off, using what little of the Dreaming realm she could use to cut short the distance from your place to his prison.

While she was spying and recording the layout of the mansion, you start your own part of preparations.

Fortunately, you were born into a wealthy family and it was no problem for you to access it. You were an only child of your parents, the sole grandchild of your paternal grandfather who was part of the new money in his generation which later on you reap and benefit from his passing. Among the grandchildren of your maternal grandfather, you were the only woman, and this lead to both your still alive maternal grandparents to spoil you in whatever way they can. For being people of old money wealth, they were surprisingly supportive when you told them how you wanted to visit England. You did your best not to roll your eyes at how loudly your grandfather was thinking that maybe you could finally find a husband.

This wasn't a social vacation. It was an intelligence operation.

Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself anyway. That it was only that and nothing more.

Jessamy returned to you and together you made a rough draft of the layout that she has observed so far.

"His tools are hidden somewhere, but I can't tell where."

"We'll worry about his tools when he's out."

"I see, oh and I've managed to see the title of the spell book they used." You write down the spell book for a later visit to the library.

"Have you seen him?" She nods sadly. You could already sense the images that she gives you from her mind.

He was trapped in a glass sphere. Still within the magical circle that captured him. Now they've also added a moat of water surrounding him. The guards that watch are alert, but you can tell that they are sleep deprived.

You were about to ask, but a pill bottle was opened and you were able to see enough to be able to read the label.

Forced March

To keep them awake and to prevent them from falling asleep. You don't know all of the ingredients, but you do recall the drug was made with extracting caffeine from both coffee beans and tea leaves and blended with other things to further stimulate the nervous system.

Apart from that, based on what Jessamy has heard: They've recruited enough members into their group to make sure that no one is sleep deprived for long and that each set of guards has had more than adequate amounts of sleep.

The bad news, Morpheus cannot use his power of dreams.

"The Corinthian must have informed them on how to bind and imprison him. My poor lord." You hear the despair in her thoughts. You silently agreed that its the rogue nightmare who has taken initiative to help them imprison his master so he may roam about free.

The good news, if they want to stay awake and have only conscious thoughts then so be it. His weakness, was your strength and well within your abilities.

You just need to make your way to London and be within radius of the imprisonment at the very least. It would be better if you were on location but that's too dangerous and risky. Especially if they have wards, and other unseen magical protection that could harm you if you used your abilities carelessly. The spell book Jessamy saw was one of many, and you weren't taking that risk.

Or at least not uninformed.

If you were going to be on location, at most its to see if you can talk to him using conscious thoughts, and to think of possible escape routes.

For awhile this was yours and Jessamy's routine, you did on the ground research while she spied the manor and what they were doing to Morpheus. You were making arrangements for having enough clothes and resources to be able to go to London for a couple of months at least.

At this point you didn't care if you have to sleep with some son of an aristocratic family and marry into one just to stay in London. If anything it will finally make your grandfather shut up about a husband, and you can be closer to Morpheus.

Not in that way. You mean that in a professional manner. The world would be destroyed if dreams and nightmares could just escape and walk in the waking world.

Or at least that's what you told yourself.

When the time came for you to finally travel to London (albeit with your parents and grandparents but they respect you enough to allow you to roam alone), you can feel Jessamy's excitement in the possibility that Morpheus may finally be free.

You keep telling her that this is still intelligence gathering.

"But there's hope ma'am, hope that we can finally free him." If she was human, you could easily imagine her jumping up and down and running around the room fueled by her excitement.

You didn't have the heart to dash her hopes.

It's not that you weren't an optimist. You like to view yourself as a realistic optimist. Is there a chance that you two could successfully get him out? Yes. Was that chance very small? Also yes. But is there a chance to further spy on them? Very much so.

When you arrived in London and was introduced to aristocratic circles that knew your grandparents, news began to spread about a party in the manor of Burgess.

The place where Morpheus was imprisoned.

"That old creep? Why would anyone want to attend his parties?" scoffs one of the bachelors that you were introduced to.

"Hey now, a party is a party. Especially one wherein I could get away from these old farts." says a woman who is the same age as you, but you turned 19 a few months before her. Apparently the consensus among aristocrats of your generation was that Burgess was a strange man, part of the occult and mystic arts, and that doing anything associated with him is considered to be ungentlemanlike or unladylike.

In short, the perfect place for new aristocrats to rebel against the former generation while being hedonistic.

The perfect cover up for an intelligence mission.

"Is there a party tonight?" You ask taking a sip of the white wine in your glass.

"No, but there's one on Saturday." the woman says to you.

"Then I guess we know where we'll be on Saturday." you give them a smirk as you take a drink from water to balance out the alcohol.

"Oh forget it you two. It's by invitation only."

"No, based from what I know, its only the first hundred to arrive."

"No! Its-" you no longer followed the argument. You got what you need anyway. Later that night in the privacy of your bedroom balcony as you pretend to be writing in your journal while you and Jessamy were conversing as quietly as you can. She was seated on the chair beside you, hidden away from most perspectives except for anyone looking from above.

"Again, what's going to happen on Saturday?" From your periphery, you could see her raising her head through the movement of her beak.

"An intelligence mission."

"What is the objective?"

"Observe and report."

"Observe and report what?"

"Any possible routes that were hidden off that we can use."

"Is that all?"

"...no" she says uneasily. She's forgotten something.

"Check on Morpheus-"

"CHECK ON LORD MORPHEUS!" You could hear her internally berate herself for forgetting that part.

"Jessamy, focus. There's no guarantee that I myself can physically check on him. I need to stay within the party so no one suspects. And for your safety, be discreet." You keep your voice gentle but firm. Enough to show that you're not angry, but firm enough to call her focus.

"But how are you going to communicate with him?"

"If he's awake, I'll project my conscious thoughts to him. If he's asleep, I'll use the energy of the conscious thoughts around me to wake him up."

"And if he doesn't respond?"

"Then at least we'll know that the glass sphere also blocks off telepathy of any kind before actually rescuing him." CRASH! A sound breaks your conversation with Jessamy, startling her into almost flying out for safety. You take large steps towards your door and open it slightly to see what's going on.

You see your grandfather was responsible for the now broken glass set. But this time you've noticed that your grandma wouldn't mind. From what you could see, he's in tears and your grandma embraces him and cries with him.

"Avery is dead!"

"Shh, my love we don't know. The letter says he has the sleeping sickness that's all."

"But Jane, no one has awaken from that. It's an early death sentence."

"My love, have hope, maybe he'll be the first one to wake up." Your grandfather couldn't find it himself to reply as he continues to weep in your grandma's arms.

Your heart breaks for him.

The sleeping sickness was only a confirmation to what you've already known since Jessamy told you that Morpheus was imprisoned.

The waking world is suffering, because the world of the unconscious is out of control without their master. You may not know the true extent of what that entails, but it was important now that Morpheus returns home to the Dreaming.

Even if he had hurt you and your feelings.

This was no longer about you, the being. It was about the world you lived in.

You take one last glance before giving your grandparents-your grandfather-the privacy he needs to weep and grieve. To mourn a dear friend of his and grandma. You may not personally know who this Avery is. But nevertheless he has made an impact large enough to make a normally jolly man weep.

You give yourself time to reflect. You never thought you would be back in Britain. Your previous lifetime before this one was rather short and tragic. A woman who had cancer who died before she could really have a life. Died in poverty and was probably thought to be insane for most of her life. People could later on debate if you really were insane or if the society just brushed poor women like you under the rug to be ignored.

The only reason why you were even able to make it to 20 was because of a good doctor who was one of the few who didn't mind keeping you company. You and he exchanged thoughts and he was one of the few who still gave you some sense of dignity for a patient whom everyone thought was just insane. You asked him why one day. When he could be doing anything else in the world, he chooses to spend time with a sickly woman who was worthless in the eyes of society.

"I don't think you are worthless."

"Why is that doctor?"

"Because unlike many people, you and your stories are interesting and captivating."

"You have interesting stories too doctor. I think you have no idea how your stories have really encouraged me to do my best to live."

"I never thought a story about a mysterious murder victim would have that effect on you."

"It makes me want to know more. And I can only know more if I do my best to live." You stop briefly coughing as he rubs your back. He has already given you your medicine earlier, there was nothing else he could medically do at this point. Looking back, you suspect that maybe he stayed with you because he knew the power of the mind to prevail. Especially when it has company with similar interests.

"It seems like you are one of the few people who think that way. Everyone else thinks that its too confusing."

"Have you tried showing the logic behind how he connected the clues?" He gives you a sad smile.

"I don't think people would like going into the more technical details. Especially if they are outsiders to certain industries. Even those inside would simply think about work and would just be bored to death."

"Is Moby Dick one of your inspirations doctor?" He laughs as he shakes his head.

"Absolutely not, its a fiction that I detest. I couldn't get passed all the industry specific details about whaling."

"Well that's good to know. Maybe its the way you present it doctor. I quite enjoy the story, but I especially love how you would explain the patterns leading up to the killer. Maybe there is a common ground wherein you could write all the details, while keeping it so interesting." You cough once again, this time harder. He gives you warm water with honey to soothe your throat.

"I'll tell you what doctor. What if you could tell it to me first, and then I'll tell you when it gets confusing. Then you could explain it further to me and why it is so important to finding out who the killer is." He pondered briefly in thought before you could sense a warm sense of companionship from his conscious thoughts.

"Very well, I shall have to pay tribute and credit you as my co-author."

"No, doctor I'm not. This is your story, I just want to help make it audience friendly that's all." It wouldn't do you good to simply be sidelined. Based on recent history and how society tends to treat female writers, you're happy to remain an anonymous collaborator.

"That simply won't do. Please tell me how I can give you credit." You think for awhile as you take a breath to calm yourself after a coughing fit.

"When you become successful, can you make me a character in one of your stories?"

"Of course, shall I put your name?"

"No, I don't like my name in this lifetime. May I change it?" You whispered what was your preferred name and preferred profession.

Afterwards his doctor visits also became editing sessions to that now famous story. You weren't able to read it back then. Most of the substantial meat in the story was finished. He just needed to arrange it into the story you got so invested in. You sensed that Death was about to arrive, that you signed your last note to the good doctor whom you have confided in plenty of things. How thanks to help and insight, you were no longer jealous of Hob Gabling.

"He may not want to admit it, and he may not even recognize it. But we all search for companionship at some point. You say he is very empathetic but rigid?"

"Yes, he hurt my feelings by not going to me. And yet I can't blame him for his rigidness because its a way for him to be in control. Otherwise, the world would come to an end."

"Then maybe its because that's one of the few ways he can show he cares."

"He's had women come to his bed who felt loved. I could hardly believe he's ignorant of this fact."

"But have you considered that he admires you so much, because to him you're a phenomenon that is a mystery to him. And rather than unlocking that mystery, he chooses to accept that there are some things that are beyond his understanding. And would rather admire it from afar, than simply be confused by the things you could do and the stories you create." The good doctor has a point. But it was only later on in your last few hours that you could finally admit it to yourself.

"It still wouldn't have hurt to ask me though." He chuckled as he places a thermometer in your mouth.

"I may not be him, but I would like to apologize on behalf of ignorant men everywhere."

You let tears of happiness fall as you write your last note to the good doctor. Even if you wouldn't be associated with this story, even if you were unnamed from his biography, his companionship in this lifetime was worth so much more than the fame that you sensed would arrive soon after.

Dear Dr. Doyle.

Thank you for your companionship

I hope to be remembered not as a sick woman who had a short tragic life. I don't want to be remembered as someone who was unimportant. But a woman who just loved talking about stories and sharing them with you. I want to be remembered as the character you will someday write within the stories you create. I hope that I was an equal in the stories we share.

Once you eliminate all other possibilities, then what remains is the truth. No matter how improbable.

Thank you so much

Signed

Irene Adler, Opera singer, probable spy.

The woman

You hear someone call your name as you return back to the present. The good doctor has kept his promise. You smile briefly as you spot a bookstore along the way promoting that it had copies of the Sherlock Holmes novels. The good doctor may not know who you are in this lifetime but you never forgot him. You helped him in refining the skill of analysis and deduction.

Now it was time to use them in this rescue mission.

As you step down from the carriage, you spot Jessamy in your periphery.

'Jessamy you are a bit obvious, I could still spot you.'

'Oh sorry ma'am.' You give a discreet look at where she was previously. You could no longer visually see her, but based on your bond she's backed up into the shadows and had remained much more still.

Good, it's still too early for her to attempt to go inside. The sun has just gone down, and night was still coming but not yet here. Your group of the new generation's aristocrats were able to get a privileged invitation and were able to arrive early, ensuring that you would be able to get in.

You play the flirt, the wide-eyed naivete who has never been to a mystical place. You were sheltered, you explained. At most the wonders that you've seen were only what was discussed in the public journals. This predictably had them eating out of your hand.

To be safe you need to check if your powers interfered with the wards and other potential magic that was in this place. You gently use a small amount of it on your companions. That way if it was obvious, you could say that it was the Burgess Manor that was doing it and not you. Also by using it first on your own companions, there's less of a chance that any guards would be alarmed at the potential of having a being with supernatural powers within their midst.

You make sure to look away as you gently tap the minds of your companions. At the same time you use your senses to check if there's any detection by the occultists.

No reaction so far.

That looks promising.

There were also no signs from your companions that they felt you in their minds, simply reaching out to their conscious thoughts.

Good. If you can reap their energy amidst being in the party, then you just might be able to communicate with Morpheus. You need to be gentle enough that their brains would mistake it as a subconscious thought. But you need much more people before attempting to do it to communicate.

You also need to be sure that among the occultists they didn't have magic barriers, or if they did, such barriers wouldn't react to what you were doing. In theory it shouldn't be the case. With enough people, you just need even just one or two surface level thoughts from them. You weren't trying to attack their minds, just travel through them and get a little bit of energy along the way.

And if you can help it, you would stay away from the mind of Roderick Burgess. It is too risky and if he began to suspect any supernatural mental presence, it would undermine all that you and Jessamy have done so far.

From the periphery of the window, the night was finally beginning. You send a message to Jessamy that in awhile she should infiltrate the manor. She will be the judge of when that is. She sends back a thought that she had heard the message.

More people enter the manor for the party. More minds to tap into. If the place were overflowing with outside people, then there is a high chance that you don't need to tap into the minds of the occultists.

Speaking of the occultists, there were definitely a few who were on guard duty. About 12 to be exact based on where their minds were. 10 were guarding the prison proper where Morpheus was located. Morpheus, who was resting but very much conscious, was in the center based on the positions. You feel some of them think rather loudly how miserable they were that they were going to miss the party. 2 of the occultists were guarding the entrance to the prison. Probably in case of a rogue partygoer accidentally wanders into their midst.

Once the manor was filled with plenty of visitors, and the gates were closed to anyone who wasn't able to go in, that was the time you began to do your job. Fortunately for you, there was lively music playing, delicious food served in a buffet style that was normally reserved for luncheons. All things that could make people a lot more energetic and would allow you to have less effort.

There was also unsurprisingly alcohol which for your purposes was a double-edged sword. On one hand, if enough people was intoxicated then they wouldn't really notice your presence in their minds. On the other hand, alcohol being a depressant meant that their conscious thoughts would have less energy and would require more effort from you. The more effort you exert, the higher the chances that you would get caught by one of the occultists, if not by Burgess himself.

If nothing else happens tonight, the least you could do was suggest the presence of some stimulants to make the next party even livelier.

Jessamy was able to infiltrate the premises through an unused chimney. How she was able to travel down the chimney, you have no idea.

'Remember be discreet' you send to her. It was still too early to do anything to help Morpheus that wasn't planned.

'I will ma'am' a part of you wonders if she's getting annoyed at you being cautious or maybe it was your almost constant reminding.

Probably both.

You engage in the festivities, or rather you did the average amount of activities that would throw anyone suspicious of you off. You drank enough alcohol to be tipsy, but not inebriated. You drank lots of water and had eaten a lot of the food offered. Before leaving you also made sure to have taken a heavy meal just in case. You danced enough dances to at least 5 different songs. The men were rather astounded by your stamina on the dance floor. You teased them enough to suggest something more, but your words alone couldn't implicate you in anything scandalous.

Or at least nothing that was scandalous beyond the norm for a rebellious aristocratic woman.

No one questioned why you needed to rest and take a breath in a less crowded area, but was still a part of the party area of the manor. Some men followed you, but after acting too tired to do anything beyond flirting, they left you. In order to get yourself to be alone, you pretended to be drowsy and sleepy.

The irony of that doesn't escape you. You were more awake than ever. The energy from the conscious minds that were nearby was almost like a double espresso shot that made you want to move around.

You take a breath, gently tapped the the minds of the party goers. For tonight you decide to avoid using any of the minds of the occultists. The information you and Jessamy had were still lacking, and when there were any doubts as to what you should do, you would pick caution. Fortunately, the night was still young and not too many people were drunk yet. It didn't take you much effort to gather energy from their conscious thoughts and to have your message travel to Morpheus.

Jessamy had just arrived too in the prison proper. Her movements slower and more stealthier than what you've felt from her before.

'Jessamy, do you think you could still talk to Morpheus?'

'I thought that was your job?'

'Try talking with him first, then I'll try it with mine. Either way I'll still feel it.' Through Jessamy's eyes you see that Morpheus was very much awake despite him lying down. His eyes were glaring at his guards.

'Lord Morpheus, its Jessamy. If you can hear me sit down.' You await.

He remains where he is, glaring at the guards.

'Ma'am I'm going to try moving closer.'

'How close are you planning?'

'I'll try going in the area.'

'No'

'But ma'am'

'Safety first, there are too many guards around him. I haven't tapped into their minds yet but their thoughts are loudly thinking about the party and how stuck they feel.' Thinking quickly you suddenly get an idea.

'Jessamy, more or less how far are you from Morpheus?'

'I don't know, about one tree?' her brain gives you a reference to what tree she's referring to.

So about a couple of meters and a half more or less.

'Stay where you are. I'll try to use you as a conduit to talk to Morpheus.' You feel her settle down and blend in more with the darkness as you gather the energy of the conscious minds of the party.

'Morpheus, its me. If you can hear me, sit down.' You then gently send the message travelling through the conscious minds of the party goers and when it arrives in Jessamy's mind, you add power to project it on to him.

Now you await through Jessamy's eyes.

It didn't seem like he heard you.

Time to try a different tactic.

You were about to pull out of Jessamy's mind when through her eyes, you see Morpheus look at Jessamy's way. His eyes no longer glaring. But it's an expression that you couldn't read.

'You're here?' Jessamy was about to fly with joy when you sternly reminded her through your own bond to be still.

'With Jessamy, I'm speaking with you through her and the other party goers.'

'LORD MORPHEUS I'M SO GLAD WE CAN TALK!' You can feel him send her feelings of affection in reassurance.

'How are you? Jessamy please be still, the party is starting to wind down and people are starting to get drunk. I won't be able to use their consciousness much longer without possibly getting caught.'

'Sorry Ma'am.'

'Suffering. That's all I can say. I've been suffering.'

'We'll try to get you out of there but you'll have to be patient.'

'Have you tried telling Lucienne?'

'We've tried but it seems there's a barrier preventing Jessamy from going back to the realm proper and preventing me from calling for Lucienne.'

'The spell that's keeping me contained here must have had an effect on you, through your bond with Jessamy. I couldn't go to the dreaming when I tried resting.'

'That would explain some things.' You start to feel less energized. People are now falling asleep, getting drunk, or both.

'Morpheus, Jessamy and I need to go now, I'm starting to lose-'

'I understand.' You feel him briefly pause before continuing.

'Be careful you two.'

'We will Lord Morpheus.'

'Thank you, Morpheus.' and with that you pull out of Jessamy's mind and she slowly flies out of the prison proper. For your part you slowly open your eyes. It was just in time too. Not too far, you sense a couple go into a private spot for carnal activities.

You normally wouldn't mind, but right now you had to analyze what information you now had. And you can't do that within this space.

But you can't quite leave just yet. That would be too suspicious.

'Jessamy, go ahead without me. I can't leave the party yet.'

'Will you be alright Ma'am?'

'Yes, go to my bedroom and record what we've learned tonight.' You can sense her confused.

'I'm a raven ma'am. I don't know how to write.' You roll your eyes internally. It turns out she wasn't observant to how you recorded details.

'Do you remember the diary I would keep?'

'Yes'

'It's an enchanted object. Simply open a blank page and step on it. It will record what you want to say. It will be done recording your thoughts when you see your name appear at the bottom of the text.'

'Oh' With that she flies away from the Burgess Manor grounds and you proceed to see if there's still any alcoholic beverages left to be consumed. You weren't actually going to drink all of it, but you drank enough to make people think you were drunk.

No one needed to know that you threw plenty of alcohol to either the bushes, the chamber pots, or even to the couch that you were sitting on just to be convincing.

You and Jessamy meet inside your bedroom this time. You're not sure if you were followed, even though you took precautions to pretend to be drunk and inebriated that the hosts had to call a carriage to bring you home.

"Okay, so the glass is not there to prevent psychic attacks."

"Perhaps Ma'am, its to prevent Lord Morpheus from being able to touch the ground and prevent him from using any sand."

"Good point. But what I am confused by is how the ritual circle is protecting everyone else from him."

"Maybe it's just restraining him. After all how else are they able to put him in a glass sphere otherwise?" There's something else that you just couldn't put your hands on. You sigh before turning towards Jessamy.

"I don't know why, but it feels like we are missing something."

"That's why it's an intelligence mission right? To learn more. But oh ma'am this is wonderful, see there is hope that we could rescue him."

A part of you hopes that you would live up to such expectation.

The next intelligence operation is seeing what was the minimum radius required for the two of you to be able to communicate with Morpheus. You're still not willing to risk a surprise counter attack among the occultists. Which is why you're prioritizing this experiment over actually going inside the property again. You didn't like the energy that permeated there. And if either you or Jessamy could avoid going to the Burgess Manor unnecessarily, the better.

Not too far from the Manor was an inn that was large enough to have a lot of people. The more conscious people the better. Around the inn were also various restaurants that catered to the guests of the inn. Both restaurants catered to very different tastes. One, in your honest opinion, was a bastardization of Indian Cuisine. It wasn't spicy enough to bring you memories from when you were living there. But then again, those were the times when you were born male. The second restaurant, was what you would call English cuisine with French techniques. Not too bad, and probably more in line with the general tastes.

It was definitely better than the obvious bastardization of the other.

Now this lead to another conundrum.

While you were from the aristocratic class and have established yourself as part of the rebellious new generation. That didn't mean you could just ignore all mores.

You will need to find a husband.

You expected this since that was one of the conditions that granted you travel to London in the first place. You weren't new to marriage of conveniences. But a part of you wished that you could be able to rescue Morpheus, go back to Quebec, and die an old lady writer who due to her wealth and status wasn't pressured to be married.

But based on the many surprises that you sensed in the Burgess Manor even among the relative safety of a party, to be able to rescue him, would take a longer time than expected.

"You can't just do that Ma'am."

"Softer Jessamy, we don't know who could be listening." You give her a pointed look as you two were at your desk with your enchanted diary.

"But ma'am, well what if you hurt his feelings?"

"Jessamy aristocrats are used to marriage of conveniences. It's first and foremost a contract with the transfer of property. Don't worry I just need to find the right one who would let me do as I please." Jessamy sits down and looks at you with a concerned expression on her face.

"Ma'am, I think you and I both know who I mean." You take a breath. You had suspected for awhile that Jessamy might have mistaken your actions of rescuing Morpheus as signs of romantic affection. Despite your own feelings, you were pretty certain that they were unrequited.

"Jessamy, whatever you are thinking, stop it now. It's never been like that between Morpheus and I." You hate to do this, but this thinking must be nipped in the bud before proceeding. This was a delicate mission as it is. Especially when you were trying your best to keep the two of you alive.

"But he calls you 'Beautiful Anomaly', doesn't that show that he cares for you?"

"Jessamy ... I can't speak on behalf of Morpheus. I may be the creator of conscious thought but even I don't know what he thinks of me. Beings can care about other beings without being in love with them. And based on my mistakes from some of my past lifetimes, its safer to not assume things." If ravens could cry, Jessamy may have begun right there and then.

"You're his raven, he cares about you too Jessamy."

"But it feels different with you. There's a certain tone he uses whenever he talks about you. Almost like reverence mixed with affection." She looks up at you with a distraught expression.

"Surely that has to mean something. You also created emotion ma'am, surely that shows he has feelings for you."

Oh dear.

You really don't want to hurt her feelings.

But the burden was on you as someone who understood the nuances and follies of emotions.

All you can do now is to gently remove that illusion from her mind.

"Jessamy, feelings and emotions can come and go. Yes sometimes they may last longer than most, but its part of living life to feel." You take a breath because you know this would break her.

"But just because there are feelings of affection doesn't mean that there are also feelings of romantic love."

"But-but how can that be? Surely there must be -" she was at a loss for words.

You continue on.

"Jessamy, my most successful marriages throughout my entire existence had one thing in common. Love was a choice, not just a feeling." Despite her thoughts being upset at what you have to say, you could tell that she was still listening.

"There comes a time in a relationship wherein your attraction for each other fades, and you are blatantly reminded of how imperfect beings you both are. The difference lies in whether you choose to work together to resolve any issues you both have, or if you want to leave...if you can leave that is." You lower yourself down to her eye level.

"But Jessamy, that choice is not made alone. To do so would remove the other's freedom to choose. And that eventually becomes resentment and hate. While there are rules and lines that I may cross sometimes, the agency of any being - any being's freedom to choose is one that I won't cross."

"Including Lord Morpheus?"

"Especially him. Especially now that he now has a taste of what's it like to lose that freedom." You can sense her contemplating something.

"But ma'am, why did you choose to help me rescue him if you didn't love him?" There was hope in her thoughts. Hope that maybe my feelings alone could change eons of how he has treated me.

You sadly know the contrary.

"My feelings for him have changed Jessamy. A part of me will still have feelings for him. But those are nothing except my own burden to deal with." You pause for a bit to check if she is still listening to you. She was but it was in despair.

"I chose to help you, because I want to show him that I'm not mad at him anymore. Whether he actually apologizes to me or not, that is something beyond my control. But no one should be robbed of their freedom and be made to suffer like he is suffering right now." You sit up before you open your palms and wait for her to hop in. With gentleness you bring her up to your own eyes.

"Are we clear?"

"...clear" Jessamy says reluctantly.

It's okay.

You just hope that now that you've set things straight, she will not take it against you for marrying someone else. She doesn't have to like whomever becomes your husband, but it is the security you two need to stay in England.

Without a spouse you can't do your radius experiment; instead you go to the next party being held in the manor. Same arrangement, only this time, there were stimulants available to the party guests. And because there were other people who lead the liveliness of the party, you could get away with the bare minimum of socializing.

You still danced your heart away though. This time with multiple male partners who you knew were bachelors.

Good exposure but you felt that none of them were a suitable spouse to your needs. These were young men that had high libidos and loved being in control. None of them would do no matter how excellent dancers and conversationalists they are.

You observe the occultists that were present. To someone who wasn't looking, it seemed they were aloof and preferred to watch from the sidelines.

But that's not what you see.

You see their eyes hold a hunger and excitement that they reigned in. You could even feel some of them look at you with lust as you looked curiously at them.

They weren't being aloof. They were waiting for their targets to be exhausted before they joined in and claimed them as prey.

Perhaps you could use this as an advantage.

Not to marry one of them, but to check if they have magical barriers also in their minds that you should be aware of.

'Be careful ma'am' You can hear the disapproval Jessamy has with that idea. She may not like that you were expressing some amount of interest in other people, but in this case it was really necessary.

Besides, you don't have to actually do anything.

You manage to pair off with one of the occultists. And you manage to convinced him that you two should be alone.

In a place that was near the entrance of the prison cells.

Once you two were alone, you used your powers to manipulate his conscious thoughts. In his mind, the two of you were engaging in carnal pleasure and that he was the best lover you've ever had.

How predictable.

What was actually happening was that you were standing up while he was writhing by himself on the floor. While his conscious mind was busy masturbating his body, you were scanning his brain for any magical surprises and barriers that may interfere with your work.

The only thing that existed in his brain was a magical barrier for the subconscious. There was also the normal anti-brainwashing protection measures that was necessarily part of the subconscious magical barrier, but nothing so far concerning conscious thoughts.

Speaking of conscious thoughts, he was also a high ranking member. Not the very top, but close to there.

This was promising. But inconclusive as to what possible mental surprises those superior to him may have.

Once you've finally allowed him to have his release that was strong enough to bring him to sleep, you then proceed to be in a crowded place. There was an act going on and clearly some of the party goers decided to put on an impromptu show. You hide yourself in the shadows pretending to be drunk and passed out. When you weren't bothered for awhile, you then reached out to Jessamy. You wanted to test if you could still hear him as clearly if you were amidst very stimulated and very conscious minds. You may be farther from him than last time, but you were closer to your source of power. You felt Jessamy there. She has been waiting awhile but you also sensed that she and Morpheus had been talking while waiting for you.

'Can you still hear me through Jessamy?'

'Yes I can. Jessamy has been telling me what you two have learned so far.'

'I want to try something, if it is fine with you. I would like to try to contact you directly from where I am.'

'You're not in the same place as last time?'

'No, I'm further away. But I'm closer to the party, the source of my power to talk with you.'

'Oh I don't mind being a conduit ma'am.'

'Jessamy we need to test this so that I can prioritize your safety.'

'She's right Jessamy. The people here have seen you flying nearby a couple of times. I've not given them any indication that we know each other, but they are starting to suspect you.' With reluctance you feel Jessamy pull away.

You take a breath and redirect your energy. This time instead of sending your thoughts to Jessamy, you send it to Morpheus.

'If you can hear me, tell Jessamy without responding to this directly.' Not long after, you feel Jessamy make confirmation that you've made contact with Morpheus.

'Am I as clear to you as I was to Jessamy?'

'You are actually clearer to me now than when you were using Jessamy as a conduit.'

'She's been very excited at the possibility that you might be getting out right away. No matter how many times I've told her that if we are doing this safely, it will be far longer than what she's been expecting.'

'And you? Given the last time we've spoke...are you also excited when I will be free?' Of all the questions he had to ask now, it had to be that one.

'Of course, no one deserves to be imprisoned and to have their freedom deprived from them. You know my stance in that.' You can feel an uncertainty in his conscious thoughts.

'Do you still hate me?'

'No. No, I don't hate you anymore.' You could feel that his mood had lightened.

'But we can discuss that once you have been freed. Now is not the time.'

'Then how are you able to talk with me longer than last time?'

'I'm the one who suggested the stimulants in the party. The more awake and stimulated they are, the less effort I need to do.' You can feel his approval of your choices so far.

'What do Jessamy and I need to do to set you free?'

'Either find a way to break the sphere and the ritual circle containing me, or make someone fall asleep in my presence. Once they enter the dreaming, I can take over from there.' You ponder a bit before you feel your power draining.

'I have a question about that but it will have to wait. The party is starting to sleep.'

'Of course, and thank you for what you're doing.' You begin to shake your head "awake" but not before sending one last message to him.

'Don't thank me yet. It might be awhile.'

With this new information, progress seemed to be made. You were guarded in your hope that maybe you could free him.

Now all you need to do is find a husband who doesn't care that you're using him just to stay in England.

It was awhile before that happened. But thankfully you've managed to find one who meets your needs. He wasn't interested in women, and neither did he want to have any children to care for. He had already settled this with his family, and the compromise was that he should at the very least get married. You were concerned at first. You were more than aware of the antiquated succession laws that aristocratic families tend to cling to. But he assured you that there were enough legitimate and illegitimate children of the next generation that could deal with it. He made a clause in his will that whomever meets some arbitrary test that proves of the worthiness of the heir, must allow you to keep whatever rooms or properties that you have been given as wedding gifts.

As long as he could be with his male lover, he was more than happy to cover up for your behavior.

A part of you felt that the fates may be favoring you now, because of a price that you'll be paying later.

How little you knew that you were actually right.

Nevertheless, you managed to proceed to stay at an inn. It was a crowded time, so you were able to easily find his mind.

'About someone needing to be asleep within your presence-does it have to be human?' He contemplates first, before replying.

'No, as long as that being is capable of dreaming, then it would suffice.' An idea was beginning to formulate in your mind.

'What if Jessamy managed to fall asleep-'

'Jessamy is a subject of the dreaming-it has to be a being that is from the waking world.' Damn it. But then a thought came to you.

'This is going to sound crazy but what if I used Jessamy as a conduit and I fell asleep. Can you access the dreaming then?' He's thinking. But you felt the doubt before he told you.

'That may require a lot of energy on your part. Your powers are based on conscious thoughts. You might lose the connection to Jessamy as you fall asleep.'

'Even with the bond I've made with her? Can you try to reach out to our bond through your own bond with her?'

'Hmm, we can experiment with it first. Send Jessamy within the Manor grounds during the daytime and I'll try to reach out.' You had a bad feeling about this.

'Morpheus that's too dangerous. You said it yourself, Jessamy is probably known as your raven to your captors now. The more she's there without a plan, the more dangerous it is to her safety.'

'We'll have you. With you nearby you can keep her safe.' You ignore the part of yourself that jumped up when he said "We". You sense Jessamy arrive in the window sill. She taps into both bonds she has with you and Morpheus, thus effectively joining the mental conversation.

'I have a suggestion Lord Morpheus, what if the two of you formed your own bond? That way when she falls asleep, you can access the dreaming through her.' Oh dear, Jessamy clearly did not know what that entailed. The only two Endless who had this bond was their parents. And they never hesitated to emphasize that it is a decision that is not to be made lightly.

'Jessamy, a bond between the two of us would be something more deeper and permanent. It won't be limited to the psychic bond we share or that you share with her.'

'Isn't there a way to make it temporary? And what if the bond is limited to this lifetime?'

'I could ask the fates about it. But I'm not sure what offerings they will want from me-besides if all else fails, I'll just sneak in there, pretend to be drunk and fall asleep on front of you.' You feel him shake his head. And to your surprise you feel some anxiety from him.

'Too risky, I would not have you risk your life for me like that.'

'Then I'll use my powers to make myself invisible in their minds.'

'Until you fall asleep, and by then you would just get yourself killed on front of me.' More anxiety coming from him, this time paired with nervousness. Admittedly today hasn't been the most productive of days. You were supposed to be able to have a plan, but it seems you were stuck.

'Ma'am what if you used your powers to put them to sleep? Like how you gave that occultist guard a-'

'Jessamy, I think all of the other occultists would be very suspicious about all of their guards suddenly having sexual fantasies and passing out from their release.'

'But wouldn't that put them to sleep and Lord Morpheus could enter the dreaming.'

'No, she has a point. Not only would it bring harm to her, but the risk is too high even if the end result would be me escaping. The other guards would be on high alert and would hunt her down.'

'Besides I was lucky that one time. Not all men sleep upon release.' You were getting frustrated, you were getting nowhere with this.

'Can't you use your powers to make them drowsy ma'am?'

'I could, but it's not going to take them to the dreaming. Their mind has a magical barrier guarding their subconscious thoughts. For people to get into the dreaming, those should be unlocked. At most its going to be a very light almost laughably shallow nap.'

'I wouldn't say it is laughable.'

'Don't mock me right now Morpheus.' You say exasperated before taking a breath.

'Then it's back to basics. Study their habits, guard patterns, and everything and anything relevant to breaking you out.' You sigh sadly. If only there was some way to subtly make the guards fall asleep. But to do that you'll have to unlock the magical barriers in their minds. Too much energy. You'll need a party for that. You feel Jessamy slip away from your mental conversation.

'Get some rest' but it seems he still wants to talk.

'How can I when it feels I'm doing nothing?'

'You are doing more than I've ever expected for you to do. How can you not see that?' Is he being serious right now?

'Well for one thing, you're still imprisoned. And I just realized that it has been 4 years now and we're still not getting anywhere. And I don't want to send Jessamy there during the daytime because they will for sure hunt her down.' You take a breath. You calm yourself down before continuing.

'What do you have against me just sneaking down there and sleeping within your presence? It seems pretty straight forward if you ask me.'

'Have you not been listening to me earlier?' You can hear he was upset and hints of the anxiety and nervousness creep back in.

'You'll die.'

'I'll be dying anyway. It's part of my job.'

'Not if I can help it.'

'What's the difference in me dying later and me dying to set you free?' No answer, its been awhile since you have no response from him.

'You need rest. You need to regain your energy.' You feel him sigh but before you leave he still has something to say.

'I can't stop you if you really want to proceed with your plan. But it would cause me great pain to see you die on front of me.' You feel him leave, and once again you were all alone in your thoughts.

After a night's rest, it turns out to your frustration Jessamy was more stubborn than you realized.

"You've been going there in the daytime!?" You shriek as you see her land on the window sill clearly coming from the direction of the Burgess Manor.

"I've been careful, and just observing." You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose trying to keep yourself calm.

"How was I not aware of this despite our bond?"

"Well ma'am you're not a morning person in this lifetime. So I thought since I don't want to disturb your deep sleep, and it was during the early part of the morning wherein you really wouldn't wake up, I decided to be more proactive in our mission." Her voice shrinks, she knows you're very upset.

"How long has this been going on?"

"...Awhile" About 3 months based on her thoughts.

"Does Morpheus know?"

"I've just been observing the habits of the residents there that's all. I haven't tried making contact with Lord Morpheus yet." You're not sure whether this was good news or bad news.

You look at her with a disapproving look.

"Jessamy, I am just as frustrated as you are that we still haven't freed him yet. But I promised him I would also keep you safe. And I can't do that unless you tell me what you've been doing."

"I know, I'm sorry" You don't have to tap into her thoughts or your bond to know how remorseful she is. You take a breath, then you open your enchanted diary.

"Have you at least been recording what you've learnt?"

"...no"

"Okay, I'm upset yes. But I would not have you risking your life in vain."

"Yes ma'am." She then hops onto the blank page of the diary.

"It's the boy ma'am, Alex Burgess. He's not seen by his father. Roderick Burgess neglects him all in his quest to bring his first son back. He could be a potential ally if given the chance." Something about this makes you uneasy. You were all too aware of sons under pressure to gain the approval of their fathers.

This didn't sit well with you.

But then again, who were you to dictate what choices anyone could make.

Despite all your efforts to be careful, if you couldn't stop Jessamy from going there in the day time, the least you could do is to accompany her and cover her tracks. Morpheus too was concerned, but similar to you he was in no position to stop her.

Soon, you almost drained your energy putting concealment illusions on her. She didn't also always tell you whenever she was going to spy on Burgess. Much like before she had a tendency to take advantage of when you were in a deep sleep. And as predicted by you, she was eventually spotted and made a target by Burgess.

The first time this happened, you couldn't help but feel like a failure.

'There's nothing to apologize for. You've learned by now that no matter what you'll tell her if she thinks it will help you, she will do so no matter what.'

'Still, you've made me responsible for her. It's one thing for me to die, I know I'll be reborn again sometime in the future. But if she -'

'Don't think about that. Your thoughts have more power than you've realized.' You feel like he wanted to say more, but he held back for some reason you couldn't quite grasp.

'You need to rest. Jessamy knows the risks. We've both told her and she's not stopping anytime soon. You've nearly drained yourself giving her as much concealment as you could.'

'Out of curiosity, how have you not punished her whenever she defies you?'

'I've sternly warned her before, and after that she at least consults me first before doing anything.' And before you know it you felt yourself going into sleep.

Soon before you realized it, it has been ten years since his imprisonment. Your husband has paid the inn owners a substantial amount of money to allow you to keep the room that was more of your home than the bedroom in your husband's mansion. The tests of Morpheus reaching out to the bond you shared with Jessamy gave all three of you a glimmer of hope that perhaps Jessamy could be a conduit to you falling asleep and Morpheus could enter the dreaming through your bond with Jessamy.

The plan was that you would conceal Jessamy as she infiltrated and caused a distraction. Once she reached Morpheus, she would fly on top giving her safety from the ground should she have any followers. Morpheus would reach through his bond with Jessamy into your bond with her as you fell asleep from your bed in the Inn. He would then be in the dreaming and could escape.

You couldn't help but feel something was about to go wrong.

Sometimes you really wished that you were wrong sometimes.

It was because of this feeling that some nights before the planned escape mission, you requested the three of you have one last mental chat.

'I don't like this feeling, but I have a feeling something is going to go wrong. I can't figure out what it is. And I really wish my feelings were wrong this one time.' You look worriedly at Jessamy. For all the heartache and disagreements you two have had, you really don't want anything to happen to her.

'Ma'am we've planned it out carefully, and you even nearly died concealing me.'

'Jessamy, this isn't going to be like our previous encounters.'

'You're right ma'am, Lord Morpheus will finally be free.'

'Jessamy' You can tell that his feelings were similar to yours. But you also felt hope mixed with desperation from him.

'Lord Morpheus, what's life without a little risk? I know both of you are concerned. And sometimes I am impulsive and don't tell either of you what I've been doing, but if anything happens...just know that I'm glad to have been close with both of you.'

'Jessamy' You feel yourself begin to tear up.

'I know' She gives you a sad smile. So she knows too that something might happen to her specifically.

'I know we haven't been friends for a long time. But is it strange that I sometimes like to think of you as a mother. Ever since we met in Quebec you've always been looking out for me and risking your life for me. I don't know why it feels so different when other people have also been caring for me that way. With you ma'am it just feels different. Is this what it feels like having a mother?' You couldn't respond. You didn't realize that you were too busy crying as you look into her eyes for possibly the last time.

'If you had to pick a mother, she would be one of the best ones.'

Then came the day of the attempted rescue.

So far everything had been going to plan, Jessamy was able to set a fire to distract the guards, and she's now on her way to Morpheus.

Maybe we could make it.

You began to feel Morpheus reaching out from his bond to your bond with Jessamy.

'You're here.'

'I'm here'

He was in your bond, you could feel it. You just needed to fall asleep now and he would be in the dreaming. But then-

"Hello there"

And you felt a knife stabbed from your back. The first of many stab wounds.

No

NO

You struggle to fight back by using your legs, but he has you restrained. And you know you can't lose your mental concentration now.

'Corinthian' You can feel his anger and pain as you try to hold on as long as you can.

No

Not now

For Jessamy

You need to remain alive for Jessamy.

You can die afterwards when she's escaped.

As long as you're alive she remains concealed.

She remains safe.

You need to endure the pain.

Endure till the very end.

Endure until they are both free.

'Lord Morpheus, she's starting to fade away.'

'Jessamy get out of here. She's dying, her powers concealing you will die with her.'

'No, Lord Morpheus we're so close. I'll just break the glass-" You begin to lose consciousness from the blood loss. You couldn't follow what happened afterwards.

But all you can remember was taking your last breath as you felt a bullet wound shot to your back.

AN: ...So how are you 😅 Trust me when I say I cried a couple of parts while writing this.

A few notes that I would like to mention:

1.) Fem Reader aka Life, cannot detect subconscious thoughts. That's not her domain. That's why she can't detect the thoughts of the Corinthian, because the Corinthian is a nightmare made out of subconscious thoughts (at least that's my headcanon);

2.) Jessamy before she established her bond with Life was the one who actively projected her thoughts to Life, that's why Life can "translate" her thoughts. After they established a bond this no longer was an issue;

3.) A friend sorta spoiled me on the Midsummer Night's Dream arc (not the specific details, but just why overall why it was the play Dream gave to Shakespeare), so I thought as an interesting juxtaposition is what if Life is responsible for Sherlock Holmes. The reason why I thought this was because it is so different from what Dream gives Shakespeare. That's not to say that there's no logic in Dreams, but Sherlock Holmes while it is a fantasy is also very grounded in knowing what is the reality is and how there's a logical pattern that becomes so astounding because its so insightful and yet so honest (or at least that's how I felt). And also because I'm a Moriarty the Patriot fan (which will inevitably play out in the 21st Century scenes).

Also yes, Twisted hearts was playing on a loop while I was writing this.

Please don't send me death threats 🙏I'm not yet a lawyer.

It does get better after this, but this was necessary.

#Beautiful anomaly #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman #the sandman netflix #the sandman (2022) #dream x fem!reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #morpheus x fem!reader #Morpheus x you #Morpheus x y/n #Morpheus x reader #Dream x reader