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bellofthemeadow · 11 months

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The Road Ahead - ch 3 | Frankie Morales x females reader

Series Masterlist

Previous chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 7K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: Everything comes to a head during Tom's memorial.

Notes: Hello yet again everyone! As I previously mentioned on the two previous chapters of this fic, is a repost from my former blog "mywordhaven" . After this chapter, it will all be new content that have not yet graced the chaotic world of Tumbler. I will then be continuing this fic, as well as all of my future work, on this blog! In this chapter, shit starts to hit the fan for our birdies, and it'll get worst before it gets better #SorryNotSorry

(Also there is smut in this chapter so if thats not your vibe, you can skipped the passage between the asterisks .)

Thank you eveyrone and I will see you all in the next one <3

Tangled Truths

The early morning sunlight pierces through the window, its bright rays assaulting your eyes and causing you to furrow your brow. You raise your arm to shield your eyes from the direct light. As your gaze slowly adjusts, you sit up and rest against the headboard. Automatically, you turn to the nearby clock which displays 8:30 am. Christ, you haven’t slept this late in forever!

A surge of adrenaline courses through you as the realization hits you like a bolt of lightning. 8:30 am!?! You spring from the cozy confines of your bed, your feet carrying you quickly toward the bassinet where Ella sleeps. Yet, as you reach the crib, your heart sinks. The crib is empty. Panic seizes you, causing your hands to start trembling.

Frantically, you cast your gaze around the room and seize the robe laying on the back of the rocking chair. You hastily drape it over your shoulders and make a dash towards the door. Your sprint comes to an abrupt halt as you catch a glimpse of movement emanating from the kitchen. You cautiously approach the corridor, peering into the open space kitchen. And there, right before your eyes is Frankie effortlessly holding Ella in one arm while expertly flipping pancakes with his free hand.

You release a breath, the weight of recent events hanging heavy in the air. That’s right, Frankie had returned just three days ago you think to yourself, hardly believing it still. It still feels surreal to see him moving about the house as if nothing had happened. Whatever transpired during his absence, Frankie kept it tightly locked away within himself. And while you knew about Tom's death, as that would have been rather hard to hide, the rest of the story remained veiled in mystery.

Frankie's usual tendency for secrecy seemed amplified this time around, even compared to his previous tour. When he had first stepped foot in the door three days ago, you had resisted the urge to overwhelm him with questions, knowing he needed space to process and readjust. The sheer happiness and relief that flooded your heart at his homecoming had been so overwhelming that all you wanted was to hold him close and never let go. And, truth be told, that's precisely what you both did.

Seated together on the couch, abandoned Chinese takeout containers scattered on the table, you cradled Ella in your arms while Frankie enveloped both of you in his embrace. It was a moment frozen in time, his arm securely holding you close to his chest, creating a cocoon of love and comfort. The minutes and hours blurred together, fading into insignificance as you basked in the warmth and contentment of being together again.

The following day, however, had been fair game. Determined to unravel what happened during Frankie's time in Peru (Columbia?), you persisted with your questioning, probing deeper and repeating inquiries throughout the day. Yet, Frankie remained resolute, his responses akin to a redacted document, the black sharpie obscuring sentences and leaving only vague fragments of meaning visible. Anger coursed through your veins, an emotion that still lingered within you, but a single glance into Frankie's sorrowful puppy eyes caused you to falter. In the end, you relented.

However, there was one matter you refused to back down on. You had made it abundantly clear that Frankie must resume therapy as soon as an appointment would be available. This demand was non-negotiable. If Frankie was unwilling to seek professional help, then he could pack his belongings and go camping on Benny's couch. The ultimatum silenced Frankie and he reluctantly agreed to schedule a therapy session for the following week. And while you hoped this waiting period would encourage him to open up, deep down, you knew not to hold your breath.

Frankie seemed to think that money would cure all of the fresh wounds that had been inflicted and a deposit of $17,000 had been made into your shared account. But, this sum failed to justify the pain Frankie’s absence had wreaked in your marriage. Yes, you were now $17,000 richer financially, but your heart, once overflowing with love, now felt impoverished.

You cautiously step out from the corridor, crossing the threshold and entering the doorway. Almost immediately, Frankie whirls around, his sudden movement accompanied by a disconcertingly vacant expression in his eyes. It's a look that sends a shiver down your spine, a flicker of something unsettling that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears. Frankie’s face transforms in an instant, the familiar contours rearranging into his usual kind and gentle smile.

As you observe him, a realization hits you. Despite Frankie's cheerful smile, something feels off – his eyes don't reflect the same brightness as usual. It's as if there's a mask, concealing a multitude of emotions he's keeping hidden. The air between you grows heavy with unspoken words as your eyes meet, creating an undeniable tension. “I think your pancake is burning,” you say after a beat.

“Mierda!” Frankie flips back towards the stove and moves the smoking pan from the stove. The sudden commotion startles little Ella, who responds with a piercing cry, her distress echoing through the kitchen. Reacting swiftly, Frankie brings his second hand to encircle his baby girl, attempting to soothe her with soft words, "Shhh muñequita, you're alright. Papa didn't mean to startle you. Shhh, you're all good, my little princesa." Despite his best efforts, Ella seems to be in one of her moods this morning, and she remains unrelenting in her growing cries. Panic creeps into Frankie's eyes, his plump bottom lip nervously caught between his teeth, as he watches his attempts at calming her go in vain.

“Give her here, you know she gets extra cranky when she is hungry. Just like someone I know.” It’s a feeble attempt at teasing, but it manages to pluck a small laugh from Frankie.

“I guess having a bottomless stomach is hereditary” Frankie quips as he starts cooing at the fussy baby. His smile slightly dips as his eyes lock back with yours, "I wanted you to sleep in and recover a bit, after all the time I’ve been gone and all the trouble I cause. I'm sorry you have to deal with such a sorry excuse for a husband" Frankie says hoarsely.

You extend your arms towards Ella, gently reaching out to comfort her. "Don't say things like that, Frankie. You know I’ve never thought of you in that way" you retort. You focus your eyes back on Ella, "We have a brand-new baby, and it's natural for babies to cry when things don't go exactly as they want. It's nothing personal; she does the same to me."

With care, you cradle Ella in your arms, your fluffy robe cascading open as you adjust your cami top. Slowly, you expose your breast and guide Ella towards your right nipple. After a few attempts, Ella finally latches on, her tiny mouth finding solace in your embrace. "Someone's a hungry little peanut," you whisper affectionately, observing her now peaceful expression as she feeds. "Good job, my love. You're doing so well," you softly coo.

As Frankie clears his throat, your gaze lifts, meeting his intense gaze directed towards you and Ella at your breast. In his eyes, a flicker of desire ignites, and something deep within you twists, causing your thighs to involuntarily clench. The realization of the tension between you two fills the air, and you can't ignore the fact that it has been a long time since you were last intimate. Between the demands of the birth and Frankie's absence, you had either been unable or unwilling to revisit that more carnal aspect of your relationship.

Yet amidst the difficulties of your current situation, there is an undeniable longing within you for Frankie. More than anything you yearn for him, you yearn for his words to ease the doubts and insecurities of motherhood, you yearn for his touch to bring you back to life. You yearn for the fire that would consume you whenever your lips met. When you kissed, it was a display of fireworks, an unstoppable blaze that burned bright.

As you reflect on everything that you miss, a warm sensation stirs within you, causing your tongue to instinctively glide over your lips. Memories flood your mind, vividly recalling the countless moments when Frankie would skillfully guide you to the height of pleasure, one that you had never been able to reach with anyone else. Frankie was always centred on you, deriving his own pleasure from your own. He was a man who revelled in pleasing you, never content until he knew you were fully fulfilled.

"Mi cielo..." Frankie's voice escapes as a raspy breath, sending a shiver down your spine. Your own breath becomes trapped within your lungs, and a small whimper escapes your lips. In an instant, Frankie crosses the distance, closing the gap between you. With utmost tenderness, he cradles your cheeks in his large, warm hand, his touch cautious and gentle, mindful of Estrella who continues to nurse at your breast, blissfully unaware of the charged atmosphere that envelops her parents.

"Dios mío, eres tan hermosa," Frankie whispers softly, his words filled with adoration. Carefully, he leans down and gently presses his lips against yours. In that moment, a burst of fireworks explodes within, engulfing you both in a passionate embrace. You melt into his touch, longing to run your fingers through his soft curls and deepen the kiss, but the presence of little Estrella reminds you to be cautious. As you part your lips to guide him further, Ella interrupts with a frustrated cry, likely displeased at no longer being the center of attention.

Frankie and you share a chuckle at Ella's adorable outrage. His smile lingers on your lips as he suggests, "After our little princess Estrelita has had her fill, maybe we should put her down for a nap. What do you say, mi cielo?"

"It's not even 9 am, Frankie," you giggle, playfully nudging his nose with yours.

With a longing gaze, Frankie whispers, "There is nothing I desire more right now than to hold you in my arms, in our bed. I've missed you so much, mi cielo, and I don’t think I’ll be able to contain myself any longer.” As he speaks, each word is punctuated by a tender kiss to your lips. "You have no idea how incredibly" kiss. "irresistible" kiss. "And utterly perfect" kiss. “You truly are.” Frankie starts peppering your throat with more affectionate kisses, you playfully guide him backward, gently interrupting “Let me put her to bed, my love, and then I'll let you show me just how much you've missed me."

As you enter the tiny nursery, you observe Ella, her eyes drooping and a serene expression adorning her face. It seems, for once, your little peanut's sleeping pattern is aligning with your needs. Carefully, you place her in the large bassinet, a gift from your mother who, upon hearing the news of your and Frankie's pregnancy, had sent it as your baby shower gift. That day, she had bragged how she knew what would be best for her first granddaughter. She had even gone further and declared how unsure she was that an ex-military man and a librarian could afford anything for a newborn like she could. Little did she know that you seldom use the overpriced cradle, opting instead to keep Ella close to you. During Frankie's absence, it was more convenient to have her in your room, and Frankie's mother had gifted you a cherished family heirloom—a cradle crafted by Frankie's grandfather. And since this gift held no ulterior motives, except for love, it had felt right for little Ella. So, your mother’s cradle remained for the most part, untouched in a nursery that also remained mostly untouched. However, today you were willing to make an exception.

As you gently lay Estrella down, you whisper, "Now, my love, be good for mama and papa." Planting a kiss on her tiny nose, you quietly retreat from the room, mindful not to disturb her. As the door softly shuts behind you, a hand suddenly grabs you from behind, gently pushing you against the opposite wall. Frankie's mouth hungrily seeks yours, and you feel yourself being enveloped in his embrace. His towering presence dwarfs your smaller frame, and you melt against him, surrendering to his large comforting presence.

***“Mie cielo, amor de mi vida” Frankie pants against your lips, his hands caressing up and down your sides before he eagerly grasps a handful of your breast. You instinctively hiss as your breasts remain tender from nursing.

Concern fills Frankie's eyes as he stops, asking, "Am I hurting you?" Shaking your head, you reassure him, "They're just a bit tender, that's all." A lazy smile spreads across Frankie's face as he murmurs, "I'll never tire of them." He bends his head toward your open cleavage, lavishing hungry, open-mouthed kisses upon them. "They were amazing before, but now they're simply breathtaking. I could spend a lifetime between them, and it would be a life well-lived."

A smile graces your lips as your head gently meets the wall behind you. Frankie's words wrap around you like a warm embrace. "You are a charmer, Mr. Morales," you remark with a hint of playfulness. In response, Frankie loudly releases your nipple with a loud pop and whispers against your now wet breast, "Only for you, Mrs. Morales.”

Frankie's lips caress your sensitive nipple with a gentle puff of air, eliciting a shiver of pleasure that courses through your body. His lips continue their tantalizing journey, gradually trailing down your front as he peppers your skin with tender kisses. Each touch ignites a fire within you.

You let yourself surrender to the intoxicating sensations of Frankie's lips. Every nerve ending awakens under his touch, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His kisses create a symphony of desire, each one building upon the last until you're consumed by aching longing.

"Please, Frankie," you plead breathlessly, the urgency in your voice echoing your desire. Frankie pauses his ministrations, his face level with the apex of your thigh, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of longing and adoration. Despite the satin fabric of your pyjama shorts separating you, you know he can smell how wet you are right now.

“What is it mi cielo? Is this too much for you? Do you want me to stop?” Frankie teases as he grasps the waistband of your shorts with his teeth. Your breath hitches, caught between a gasp and a moan, as Frankie slowly lowers the fabric, revealing the mound of your sex. The cool air kisses your exposed skin, while his nose softly nuzzles against your soft flesh, his warm breath cascading over you.

"Don't you dare, Francisco," you shakily breathe out. The only response is Frankie's chuckle which resonates in the air. His eyes, filled with desire, never leave your face as he slowly drags your shorts down your trembling legs, exposing your most intimate self to his hungry gaze. Frankie’s steady hand moves toward your dripping sex, his fingers brushing against your slick folds, collecting the evidence of your arousal. Frankie brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, his eyes locked with yours, amplifying the raw intimacy of the moment. His lips part, and his tongue swirls around his own digits, sucking them in with an obscene sound that sends shivers of anticipation coursing through your entire being.

“You taste so good mi cielo. Even after all these years, there is nothing sweeter than you. Fuck you drive me crazy. I can’t escape you, you’re in my thoughts all the time; you haunt every corner of my mind. You consume me entirely, body and soul. I am nothing without you, and I don’t want to think about the kind of man I would be without you. I promise mi Cielo that It’ll never happen again. This is it, you, Ella and me. Tell me you believe me, mi cielo. Please, tell me you believe me, I need to hear you say it.”

Your mind struggles to function properly as his lips explore every inch of your body, except the one place that aches with desire. The maddening anticipation builds as he teases you.

"Frankie, please," you whimper, your hands tangling in his soft curls, desperately trying to guide him to your dripping core. But Frankie remains steadfast. Instead, he positions himself at the junction of your thigh and gently implores once more, "Tell me you believe me, mi cielo. Please, tell me you believe there is nothing I need more than to be with you until the end of time."

"IbelieveyouIbelieveyou. Ohhhhhhhh I believe you Frankie I swear!" you chant, and as soon as the words escape your lips, you sense Frankie's smile against your fevered skin. "I love you, mi vida" he whispers softly before finally burying his head between your thighs.

Frankie eagerly laps at your core like a man starved. With previous lovers, you had never encountered one who genuinely enjoyed giving oral, treating it as a burdensome chore. But Frankie was different. Expertly, he locates your engorged clit, playfully teasing it with a few licks, while slipping his index finger inside you. Your walls tighten around his finger, and you release a quivering breath of pleasure.

"That's it, buena chica," Frankie whispers. "You know I'll give you exactly what you want. You need to take it slow and steady. We can't rush this. Be a good girl and take it the way I give it to you. I want to savour every moment of this perfection." Frankie always enjoyed guiding you through sex. In another life, dirty talk would have felt embarrassing, but with Frankie, his words only intensified your craving for him.

Frankie steps back from your core, his face wet with your pleasure. A whine of discontent escapes your lips, but he quickly grabs your buttocks, lifting you slightly and positioning your legs over his shoulders. As he lifts you up, you feel the air being knocked out of your lungs, and Frankie resumes his work like a man on a mission. Using the wall for support, you feel weightless on Frankie's strong shoulder.

The most obscene sounds escape Frankie as he swirls his tongue around your clit.

"Frankie, I'm so close! Oh my God, Frankie!" you whine, still trying to stay quiet with the baby asleep literally next door.

"Buena, mi cielo! Come on, mi vida, you know what you need! You know what I need!" Frankie pants against your core. As he watches you helplessly thrash over him, the coil deep within you tightens. Frankie sneaks one of his hands up to your belly and presses hard, intensifying the coil even more.

"Oh my God! I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming!" Your orgasm nearly knocks you out, and you feel yourself slump forward. But Frankie is there to catch you. He embraces you warmly, his patchy beard still wet from all the attention, and he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

"Te amo, mi cielo. I've made so many mistakes in my life. I've wronged you and Ella. I wasn't there when I should have been, and I made choices that I'm not proud of. But now, I'll be here. I'll be a better man for you and Ella, and I'll do everything in my power to keep you both safe." He speaks these words into your ear, and you feel his warm tears landing on your shoulder.

You reach out and grab him by the neck. "I love you, Frankie, and nothing will ever change that." You softly pet his beard “Take me to bed my love.”

_______________________________________________________

3 weeks later

Black was never your colour, or so you once confided in Frankie. Every time you wore it, you felt like an old Matron from those black-and-white Italian movies you both love. Frankie had playfully quipped while nipping at your ear "If I start misbehaving are you going to punish me with a wooden spoon? Slap me right on the ass with it? That’s a scenario we could explore" You had been overheated the entire day after that.

But today was a different matter altogether. Laughter was absent from the scene. Frankie stood at the front of the room, wearing his most formal suit, sporting a distraught expression mirrored by the others in attendance. On either side of him stood the Miller brothers, Will with his arm resting on his shoulder and Benny standing solemnly to his left.

The sight of the typically strong and capable trio so devastated struck you deep in your gut. Particularly Benny, who had always been like an overexcited puppy—confident, golden and a touch cocky. You remember how Benny had been the one who approached you all those years ago at the bar while you were celebrating the final submission of your master's thesis with a friend. That night, Benny had confidently strutted over to your table and struck up a conversation. Although you could see that your friend had been drawn to him, Benny had gone all out to convince you to dance with him.

And even though he was one of the most handsome guys you had seen in a long while, Benny wasn’t really your type. You didn't feel that spark with him—the one they all speak of in movies or in magazines. So, you did the sensible thing and tried to gently let him down by using the classic excuse of not wanting to leave your friend alone. But Benny had been undeterred. He turned around and excitedly shouted, "Fish, get your ass over here!" Your eyes followed Benny's call, and your throat went dry. Frankie ambled over to your table with a shy smile on his face. Sporting his signature cap and a faded gray Henley shirt accentuating his broad shoulders. Frankie immediately captivated you. And as Benny grabbed Frankie by the neck and introduced him as his brother from another mother, you hadn’t been able to tear your eyes away from him.

Your gaze met Frankie's. Everything around you faded, and an electric volt charged the air. For the first time in your life, you decided to take control, disregarding anyone else. Turning to your friend, you suggested, "You love '80s pop. Why don't you go with Benny and take a turn on the dance floor? I'm still recovering from today’s excitement, so I think I'll sit back and grab another drink." Your friend needed no further encouragement and swiftly took Benny's arm, rushing to the dance floor before anyone could intervene.

Frankie looked at you, appearing somewhat dazed. "I think Benny wanted to dance with you. I'm usually the one on call when he needs someone to look after the friend of whomever he's interested in," he remarked. You smiled and replied, "Maybe, but Benny isn't the one I'm interested in.” You playfully played with the obnoxious parasol on the rim of your glass “I think Benny shouldn't use his handsome friend as his wingman. It kind of defeats the purpose of getting the girl, don’t you think?" Frankie bashfully smiled at your words, raised his glass, and clinked it with yours, his confident smile shining through. "To drinking with the most beautiful girl here." And from that moment, you became Frankie's, and he became yours.

Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you turn to Molly, who is tearfully expressing gratitude to the guests for attending the memorial. People offer their condolences and share kind words about Tom. Some of them you recognize from Frankie's time in the army, having crossed paths at various functions. Others are unfamiliar faces. Sensing that Molly was growing overwhelmed, you start rubbing comforting circles on her back.

When the latest person pays her their respects and leaves for Tom’s casket, you whisper in Molly's ear, asking if she needs a moment. She shakes her head, her voice filled subdued but resigned.

"I just want all of this to end. The girls need to start healing, and I know this is the first step. But it’s so hard and it won't get easier. It feels like the pain won’t ever end. I know I have to be strong for the girls, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold it together.” She quiets a moment “At least we got to say goodbye."

You offer a sad smile. "It’s ok to be sad Molly. No one expects you or the girls to bounce back after that. You need time to heal and if you ever need anything, you know I'm here, right? We are all here for you, don’t think for a minute that any of us will let you go through all of it, alone. If you need Frankie and me to take care of the girls for a little while, we'd be more than happy to."

Molly tearfully looks back at you, her voice filled with grief. "Thank you. I appreciate it. Honestly, you've cooked us enough food to sustain the three of us through a nuclear winter. You've done so much already."

"Don’t even think about that Molly. Right now, you and the girls are most important, and I am right here for whatever is to come. I am not going anywhere, I promise.”

"Thank you. I don't know what I would've done without you, Frankie, Will, or Benny. You've all been so helpful. Are the boys still planning to go to Robinson’s Sport after the service?" She asks.

You let out a quiet snort. "Yeah, Frankie said it used to be their favourite spot to get drunk when they were back on leave. They thought it would be fitting to say their own goodbye to Tom in their own way. You're welcome to come if you want, you know. I'll be the DD, and I know they'd all be thrilled if you joined."

Molly shakes her head. "Tell them thank you, but after the day we've had, the girls and I will fall asleep the moment we get home."

You nod in understanding, but your conversation is interrupted by a distant relative offering their condolences to Molly. Your eyes search the sea of black until they find Frankie in a corner, fidgeting with his tie. When your eyes meet, he offers a sad smile that you return.

You really hope that tonight will bring some peace to him.

______________________________________________________________

You rub your temple tiredly, attempting to focus on the story Benny is telling at the table. The bar is unusually loud for a Wednesday evening, and after the day you've had, it's becoming increasingly challenging to concentrate.

Seated at the table are the five of you—the original trio, along with yourself and Will's new girlfriend, who has proven to be a delightful addition to your little group. Emmy had entered the picture barely 2 months before Will had left to do God knows what in Colombia. It hasn’t seemed to faze her as now, she sits quietly, attentively listening to Benny's tales from back in their army days while holding Will’s hand and sending loving looks his way.

"And then guess who the fuck came out of the barn with his pants around his ankle, getting chased down by a fucking chicken!" Benny paused for dramatic effect. "Fucking Will 'Ironhead' Miller! More like Leadhead, am I right?" Will could only shake his head affectionately.

"What can I say? The chicken literally caught me with my dick out. Couldn't even take a piss in peace." Everyone starts laughing at the story, even Frankie, who had been quiet for most of the night, managed a smile.

"Tch, I'm pretty sure you were doing something else behind that barn." Benny accompanied his words with a crude hand gesture, eliciting audible groans from everyone at the table and a giggle from Will’s girlfriend. "Fuck, Redfly was pissed that day. Dumbass over here gave away our position and we had to hike through the fucking jungle for 10 days. No coms, no food, no prep time, N.A.D.A. Just because Will Miller wanted to rub one out."

Benny's words bring silence to the table. Frankie suddenly down his beer and speaks up. "I'm gonna get another one. This round is on me. Anyone want a refill?" Everyone at the table nodded in agreement, even Benny, who looked subdued after receiving a scathing look from Will. Frankie turned to you and asked, "Want anything, mi cielo?" You tap your empty glass with your finger and smile softly at him. "Another Shirley Temple, please, mi love." Frankie nodded and planted a kiss on your forehead before making his way toward the busy bar.

Silence stretched over the table as you absentmindedly fiddled with your paper straw. Will cleared his throat before offering you a smile. "Thank you again for being the DD tonight. We all really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure, Will. Today was tough for all of you, and you need to bid farewell to Tom properly. And there is no better way to say goodbye than by getting drunk out of your mind, then I am more than happy to provide my driving services.” You smile teasingly “I'm sure he would have loved tonight." While you hadn't been particularly close to Tom, you knew the man had at least loved two things: football and beer. And you think that yes, he would have definitely enjoyed getting drunk with his brothers (minus one) with ESP reruns in the background.

Benny flashed you a smile, his eyes gleaming playfully. He then proceeded to toss one of the tiny napkin balls he had been crafting all night. With a quick reflex, you ducked to the side, evading the incoming projectile. You burst out laughing at Benny’s childlike antics.

As you regained your composure, you playfully pointed a finger at Benny. "Nice try, but you'll have to do better than that!"

Benny let out a chuckle, raising an eyebrow mischievously. "Oh, so you think you're quick, huh? Well, let's see if you can dodge this!" With a swift motion, he crumpled yet another napkin into a ball and playfully launched it in your direction. The napkin ball landed squarely on your face, triggering laughter from everyone at the table. Playfully shaking your head at Benny, you declared, "Alright, you got me this time, but watch out, my revenge is coming!"

Benny grinned, proudly flexing his arms. "You can't beat this, baby! I'm the strongest and fastest one here!" Will interjected with a fond tone, "Sure you are, bro, sure you are."

A momentary lull descended upon the table as each person searched for something to say. Suddenly, Benny's expression turned serious. "I wanted to thank you too." Uncertain of his intent, you replied, "No worries, Benny. You know I never mind being the designated driver..."

"Not that," Benny interrupted, "I meant with Fish." Perplexed, you wondered where he was going with this. Benny continued, "Yeah. It was real hard for Fish, what happened to Tom and all that shit that went down in Colombia. He took it the hardest out of all of us. So, it was good to know that he has a woman like you to look after him."

Chewing on your lips, you say. "I love Frankie, Benny. I'll never stop loving him, and I'll always do my best to care for him when I can. You don't have to worry." Benny smiled back; his relief evident. "Yeah, I know you are. Fuck, we were real scared that you were gonna bounce on Fish after this one. But I'm so glad you didn't."

"Even if I wasn't 100% on board with him going with you guys, I respected his decision to go. It wouldn't have been fair to him or Ella to just leave. And anyway, I know you guys are a package deal. Wherever one of you goes, you all go," you replied, trying to sound confident.

"Yeah, but still, with the coke thing, I was sure that was going to be it, you know," Benny admitted, a tinge of guilt in his voice.

"Benny..." Will interjected, his tone urging caution.

You observed the silent conversation between the two brothers, sensing there was more to the story. "What are you talking about? You don't have to look so worried, Will. I know about the coke. You know I was the one who found him after his license got revoked." Discomfort settled in the air, and your gaze shifted to Will's girlfriend, who seemed determined to occupy herself with her now watered-down vodka soda.

"Yeah, that's what Benny meant. Don't pay attention to him," Will interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension that hung in the air as Benny looked guilt-stricken.

"Are you two lying to me?" you asked after a brief pause. "Is there something you guys are not telling me?"

"Look..." Benny started, but Will cut him off abruptly. "Shut up, Benny. It's not your place to involve yourself where you don't belong," Will said with displeasure.

"Bullshit! Fish told us he was going to tell her! How could I have known he wouldn't tell her? This ain't my fucking fault! She has a right to know!" Benny's frustration spilled out; his words laced with anger.

"This is none of your business, Catfish will talk when he is ready," Will interjected once again, his teeth clenched in frustration.

"SHE would really like to know what the fuck is going on!" Tears welled up in your eyes as you pleaded, "Benny... Will... You have to tell me what's going on. Is Frankie okay? What should he have told me that he hasn't?"

Will shook his head, but Benny appeared undeterred. "Fuck you, Will! You don't get to tell me what I can or can't tell her. She's my friend too, you know!" Benny's voice trembled with a mix of anger and concern. He took a deep breath, his expression softening, "After the mission was over, the day we were flying out, we found Frankie in his room. He was half passed out on coke. He completely lost the plot for a bit you know. We were real worried, but after we got him down his high he promised us he would tell you, that you would figure it all out together. He felt bad about it all, kept crying about you and Ella and shit. I know he didn't mean to take it, it's just... with Tom's death, he blames himself for what happened, and I guess it just got too hard for him, you know?

The world comes to a screeching halt. Your head spins incessantly, threatening to make you sick or collapse right there on the floor. Then, a comforting hand lands on your upper back, and Will's soothing voice cuts through the chaos, finding its way to your ears.

"I know Fish was planning to tell you. I apologize for Benny putting his nose where it doesn’t belong.” His words are accompanied by a glare in Benny’s direction who flinches “You know how difficult things can be for people like us, especially with everything that happened with Redfly’s death... It was just too much. But you know Frankie loves you more than anything in this world. He never intended to hurt you or Ella. It’s just sometimes, our inner demons overpower us and we are helpless against them."

Frankie promised.

"If he truly loved me, he wouldn't have done that," you manage to whisper. Breathing becomes a challenge—either too fast or barely happening at all. You refuse to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of a bar on a Wednesday night! Hastily reaching into your purse, you snatch your keys and turn to face Will. "I have to leave. You guys can take an Uber, and I'll cover the cost. I'm really sorry, but I just can't stay."

Will gazes at you with a tinge of sadness. "It's all right. We'll be okay. I just think you should wait for Fish. I don't think you should drive in your current state."

Frankie lied.

"I'll be fine. I can't stay, Will. I can't," you repeat before abruptly rising from your seat. You offer a fleeting wave to the table before sprinting toward the exit, tears streaming down your face.

Frankie promised. Frankie lied.

"Nice going, Benny!"

"Shut up, Will! How was I supposed to know?!"

______________________________________________________________

Frankie impatiently taps his fingers against the countertop, frustration building as he watches the bartender cozy up to one of the girls at the bar, completely ignoring him for the past 15 minutes.

"Excuse me, how much longer is it going to take?" Frankie asks, trying to conceal his annoyance.

"Busy night, buddy. It'll take however long it takes. If you don't like it, find somewhere else to go," the bartender retorts, not tearing his eyes away from the seductive blonde perched on the barstool.

Frankie lets out a sigh, his fingers fidgeting restlessly. He starts to reach into his pocket but stops himself halfway through. He knows nothing good would come from that. "But no one would find out, just a quick one in the bathroom. Not enough to get fucked, but enough to survive today," Frankie's mind tempts him. Damn, today had been tough. Seeing Molly and the girls, seeing you trying to console them, knowing it was all his fault. Like always, his mind starts going down that bleak rabbit, telling him how he should have stood firm with Tom, how he knew that damn plane wouldn't make it. But he had been weak, spineless. Greed had clouded his judgment—the allure of money too strong to resist. Frankie takes a deep breath, counting backward from ten to calm himself.

Finally, the bartender sets the glasses down in front of Frankie, then turns back to the blonde, who appears to have unbuttoned even more of her shirt, if that's even possible.

Frankie makes his way back slowly, careful not to spill anything, maneuvering through the crowded sea of bodies until he reaches the table where everyone is seated—everyone except you. Probably in the bathroom, he thinks. Frankie places the drinks on the table, tension rising in his body as he gazes at his brothers. Will buries his face in his hands, his girlfriend rubbing his lower back, while Benny stares straight ahead, anger etched on his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Frankie asks, pushing Will's drink toward him.

"Ask Benny," Will replies curtly. Benny's scowl deepens, and Frankie raises an eyebrow.

"What's going on, man? Is everything alright?"

"You're such a fucking idiot, Fish!" Benny explodes.

"What the fuck is your problem, pendejo?"

"My problem is that among all of us, you are the one who has it all: a loving wife, an adoring little girl who sees you as her hero, and a beautiful home. Yet, despite having everything, you constantly find ways to fuck it up!" Frankie's face pales, drained of colour, as he absorbs Benny's words.

"Where is she, Benny?"

"How was I supposed to know you kept her in the dark? You're constantly preaching about your openness with her, boasting about therapy sessions and support group meetings. Were those just lies, Fish? Have you been a two-faced bastard not only to your wife but also to your own brothers? What is it? You've been lying to everyone around, haven’t you? Well newsflash asshole, you don’t get to lie to everyone and then expect no repercussions!!!"

"That's enough, Benny," Will interjects, attempting to diffuse the situation. "You've said enough."

"WHERE IS SHE!" Frankie's voice booms as his hands slam loudly on the table, causing drinks to topple and spill everywhere. The bar falls silent after Frankie's outburst.

"Go back to your drinks, there is nothing to see.” Comes Will’s voice filled with the authority of a man who spent years in active service. “She went home, Fish. I told her to wait for you, but she wouldn't listen. I'm sorry," Will tries to reach out, but Frankie shrugs him off.

"You always wanted her, didn't you, Benny? And now you thought that because we were going through a rough patch, you could just swoop in?! I have a child with her, you fucking bastard! I love her!"

"You TOLD us you were going to tell her! How was I supposed to know you were a lying asshole on top of a goddam deadbeat?"

Frankie springs out of his seat, grabbing Benny by the collar of his dress shirt. "Go fuck yourself, Benny." Frankie storms out of the bar and opens his phone. He finds your contact and hovers over your picture, where you're smiling widely, holding Ella in your arms, looking directly at the camera—directly at him. Frankie presses the call button, but it goes straight to voicemail.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." As Frankie orders an Uber, he can only hope that you'll give him another chance, even though he knows he's far from deserving it. Far from deserving you.

After a 35-minute ride, Frankie arrives home, 15 minutes longer than he would have liked. He leaps out of the car and forcefully opens the door.

"Mi cielo?! Mi cielo?!" Frankie shouts frantically, searching around desperately. He doesn't have to look far though. You're sitting at the kitchen table, three small bags filled with white powder in front of you. Frankie's face drains of colour.

"I want you to explain whatever the hell this is, Frankie. And no lies this time."

Next Chapter

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seafoamreadings · 1 year

Text

week of april 9th, 2023

aries: this week is a little less hyper-aries, although it is still aries season. seize the opportunity for restful rejuvenation; do what thrills you but don't worry too much about anything that doesn't.

taurus: your ruling planet venus heads out of your sign and into gemini. but don't despair, that's your second house and it's great for you financially. venus is never a bad thing! this is money-magnet taurus.

gemini: venus moves into your sign and then promptly squares saturn in pisces. so it's a blessing mostly, it's hard to see venus in any other way. saturn imposes some restrictions, but sometimes those are for the best. analyze for yourself which restrictions serve you and which are meant to be (later) broken.

cancerians: this week is pretty calm and cool for you, even pretty supportive. *next* week though? get ready for eclipse season. you're so lunar-sensitive you may even be feeling the vibes by the end of this week, especially if you have planets in late cancer. do relax now, so you don't freak out later.

leo: sun on jupiter is super lucky for leos. so what if it's near chiron or eris? a healthy disagreement never hurt anyone, right? this is your fiery 9th house, you'll grow and expand like a beautiful flower no matter what anyone else says.

virgo: you're in a fairy tale. it's not happily ever after yet, but it's not over until it's over. this is sort of a mini climax in your life, your ruler (ceres) in your sign and neptune, your 7th house's ruler, in its domicile, conversing with each other like any lovers should. its surreal, but your fairy godmother or woodland creature friends are backing you up.

libra: your ruling planet venus shifts rather out of her element, and yet still somewhat in your wheelhouse. your wheelhouse in this case is your 9th house; smarts are endlessly attractive here. find some aesthetically pleasing library and a fun book and see what unfolds for you.

scorpio: because the south node hangs out in your sign these days, you feel the impending eclipse season more than most. it's soon but it isn't yet. stay calm and collected, at least externally. prepare for a little chaos in the next couple weeks on both personal and social scales. if you can prepare well, you can stay calm and collected in the midst of it too.

sagittarius: venus into gemini means big googoo heart eyes. are you making them or receiving them from someone special? don't let the square to saturn worry you. it slows things down but wouldn't you rather it smolder than fizzle out quick?

capricorn: it's a saturnine week featuring a capricorn moon so you're really comfortable with the vibe most likely. but don't get too comfortable, with a lot of aries activity not quite appearing on the horizon just yet there is some sort of home/family drama brewing.

aquarius: i know some of you have dreaded the ingress of pluto. this week's trine from venus in gemini, however, is really nice for you; very romantic in an intense and perhaps operatic way. just enjoy it, you don't have to sort everything out at this time. a little drama isn't so bad.

pisces: the surreal and sentimental tone of the week fits you well. next week is less your speed. for now just enjoy the silence of empty space, the stillness. the connectedness of all things.

#horoscopes #astrology #weekly horoscope #signs #zodiac #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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floragaleflower · 11 months

Text

InuKag Week 2023 Day 2 - May 30. Possession @inukag-week

∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙ Kagome loses Tetsusaiga and goes full demon in Inuyasha’s body. Inuyasha has to try to calm her down. He gets to meet his demon side. ∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙ So, I only just finished writing this, although I’d had it outlined for over a month. Yay, ADHD brain. I’m a chronic procrastinator. Anyway, I hope you enjoy what I wrote! AO3 ∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙

Inuyasha watched from behind a tree as Kagome tried to land a blow on the demon they were fighting. She was using his sword, Tetsusaiga, to fight because they’d been forced into each other’s bodies by a stupid cursed artifact the previous day.

Inuyasha was hoping for an opening to try to shoot at their opponent with an arrow, but there was yet to be one. He worried that Kagome wouldn’t be able to beat the demon, because she hadn’t been able to hit the demon even once and she’d already been hit by the demon more than once.

He watched as Kagome went in for yet another attempt and was blocked by the demon’s sword. The demon pushed its sword towards Kagome, forcing the angle of her hold on Tetsusaiga to become extremely uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Kagome’s hold on the hilt of Tetsusaiga broke and the sword fell to the ground at her side. The demon swiftly took advantage of the opening it had created and slashed at Kagome, wounding her in the side. It then hit her in the head with the flat of its sword, knocking her to the ground, seemingly unconscious.

The demon then stood over Kagome’s fallen form and gloated, saying, “Hah, I knew a half-breed mutt like you couldn’t be all that strong! You were even more pathetic than I thought you would be!”

It then readied its sword to decapitate her.

Really scared for Kagome’s life and seeing as the demon was currently distracted, Inuyasha readied his bow to shoot at the demon. He hoped that it would hit and kill the demon.

Just as he was about to release the arrow, he felt a sudden wave of demonic energy pulse in the clearing in front of him where Kagome and the demon were. The demon, who had been about to try to kill Kagome, leapt back and away from Kagome’s prone form and Inuyasha lowered his bow.

The demon said, “What?! What is this?” It had a very surprised expression on its face.

Another few pulses of demonic energy flooded through the clearing. Kagome’s silver hair started to fluff up and move in an invisible wind. A demonic aura emanated from her body. It got stronger with each pulse of demonic energy.

Inuyasha watched as Kagome sprung to her feet before leaping at the demon faster than it could react and slicing it into a dozen pieces with her claws.

She then turned towards where Inuyasha was standing and started slowly walking towards him.

Inuyasha looked at her face and saw that the whites of her eyes were red with blue irises inside and jagged purple stripes on her cheeks.

Cold fear curled around Inuyasha’s heart as he figured out what was going on. His demon blood had taken over to save Kagome’s life and he was now face to face with his own demon side. He’d never seen what he looked like when he was in this state and he’d never thought he would still be conscious and aware while his demon blood was in control. It felt so surreal.

He knew just how dangerous this side of him was. He’d been told by his friends and others that his demon blood lusted for nothing more than endless slaughter. The only thing that kept the demon blood from surfacing any time he was in danger was the Tetsusaiga which sealed it.

Inuyasha knew he had to get his sword into Kagome’s hands somehow, but he wasn’t sure how. Maybe he could use the subjugation spell on Kagome and then sprint over to his sword. However, he couldn’t be sure if that wouldn’t just piss off his demon side enough to want to kill him as quickly as it could.

Aw, screw it. It wasn’t like he had any better ideas. He just had to hope it would work.

Inuyasha gulped before he yelled, “SIT!” As soon as he heard the thump of Kagome’s body hitting the dirt, he bolted to where Tetsusaiga lay and picked up his sword. He then ran as quickly as he could to where Kagome was lying face down in the dirt. Hopefully, his idea would work, and the demon blood would be back under control.

As he got close, the subjugation spell was beginning to release Kagome. Kagome pushed herself up off the ground and made to swipe at Inuyasha, but he shouted, “SIT!” Kagome plummeted face first to the ground yet again and snarled at him angrily.

As Inuyasha felt his heart pound in his chest, his thoughts raced as he tried to figure out how to get Tetsusaiga to Kagome. He couldn’t simply hand it to her. She’d just try to kill him, ignoring the sword.

He could try shoving it into one of her hands as she lay pinned to the ground in front of him, but would it work? He decided to try it, while he still could. It was a dumb idea, but it was the only one he had.

Inuyasha grabbed the rusted blade end of his sword and stooped over Kagome before quickly shoving the hilt of the sword into one of Kagome’s hands.

She grabbed it with the hand. Inuyasha quickly backed up a few paces, not wanting to be too close to her, just in case.

The demonic aura around Kagome began to quickly subside and weaken. Her growls quieted and she stopped trying to get up from her prone position on the ground.

Seeing this, Inuyasha cautiously walked over to her, hoping that Kagome was in control, not the demon blood. The subjugation spell released Kagome and she groaned and rolled over. Inuyasha saw that the jagged purple stripes were no longer on her cheeks and, as she opened her eyes with yet another groan, he saw that her eyes had gone back to normal.

Happy that his idea had worked, but also worried about Kagome’s well-being after her ordeal, Inuyasha sat beside her to comfort her as best as he was able. She needed it after what had happened. He leaned over her to be able to look into her face.

Kagome groaned and blinked up at him before saying, “Inuyasha? What just… happened? Where’s the demon?”

A wave of relief washed over Inuyasha. Kagome was ok, albeit a bit confused. The demon blood hadn’t destroyed her mind or soul. Her flesh wounds would heal soon enough, considering she was in his body. His body could heal cuts like the ones she’d sustained within one night.

Deciding to tell her the truth, Inuyasha said, “Kagome, you killed it.”

Kagome’s brows scrunched in confusion and she said, “Then why don’t I remember it? Last thing I remember is the demon hitting me in the head with something hard.”

Inuyasha really didn’t want to tell her, but… she deserved to know. He said, “You transformed. You lost Tetsusaiga and my demon blood took over.”

Upon hearing this, Kagome sat bolt upright with wide eyes and Inuyasha quickly sat back, narrowly evading colliding heads with her. She said in a panicked tone of voice, “Inuyasha! Are you ok! Did… did I…?”

Inuyasha quickly spoke, “I’m fine! You didn’t hurt me. Or anyone other than the demon, either.” He knew how much it hurt him whenever he learned he’d hurt people while under the influence of the demon blood, and he didn’t want Kagome to have to live with that guilt too. She was too good a person to deserve that.

Kagome’s scared expression cleared and she briefly smiled at him before saying, “I’m glad! You’re alive and well and the demon isn’t trying to kill us anymore!”

At that, Inuyasha groaned and said, “Kagome, this could have been really bad. You really need to keep Tetsusaiga on you at all times! You can’t just go losing it like this!” She didn’t need the guilt of innocent blood on her hands!

She gave him a confused look before saying, “Inuyasha, everything worked out! You saved me! And if it happens again, I trust you to save me again!”

Exasperated, Inuyasha said, “Kagome! I was barely able to get Tetsusaiga to you this time! I don’t know if I could do it again. What if I died or you got away from me before I could get to you?!” Kagome didn’t understand! She didn’t deserve to suffer his wretched fate! She was too pure of heart and kind for that to be right! He couldn’t bear knowing she’d been sentenced to the life of a vermin like him!

Kagome smiled at him and said, “But Inuyasha, you always come through for me, no matter what. The worst will never happen, because you won’t let it. I trust you with my life!”

Inuyasha felt his cheeks heat up at her praise, but he still worried that she’d lose his sword again. She needed to learn how to fight using Tetsusaiga, and fast. He said, “Keh! Just know that I’m going to be training you how to fight with Tetsusaiga. You should learn how anyway.” He would start training her as soon as they got back to Kaede’s village. He had to.

Kagome said, “Sure, but you also need to train with the bow and arrow. Your aim is terrible!”

Inuyasha didn’t like what she’d said about his ability with the bow and said, “Kagome!”

Kagome just shrugged and said, “What? You know it’s true!”

Inuyasha knew she was right and that just pissed him off even more. He hated being weak or incompetent almost more than anything. He said, “Keh!”

Abruptly, Inuyasha stood up, turned, and started walking over to the tree where he’d dropped Kagome’s ugly yellow backpack. He was more than done with this whole situation and was quite ready to get going. He wanted to get away from this clearing and the unpleasant thoughts the memories it contained brought.

Inuyasha heard Kagome’s voice come from behind him, saying, “Inuyasha, get back here! We aren’t done talking!”

He picked up the backpack before turning around to face Kagome. He said, “Kagome, we’re leaving. I want to be back at Kaede’s village as soon as possible.”

Kagome scowled and crossed her arms. She said, “I-nu-ya-sha!”

Inuyasha gulped, but said, “Kagome, not right now. We’ll talk about this later, but we need to leave before more trouble finds us.” He wasn’t going to budge on this. They needed to get to safety. He also wanted some time to sort out his thoughts.

Kagome narrowed her eyes at him before her expression cleared and she said, “Ok, Inuyasha. But I’m holding you to your word!”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes at her and said, “Yeah sure, let’s go.” It was time they cleared out of there, preferably before any other demons were attracted by the smell of the dead demon’s carcass.

Inuyasha turned in the direction of the path and started walking. Kagome quickly caught up with him and they set out on their way back to Kaede’s village.

∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙ I hope that everyone liked this one! As I said in the first note, I just finished writing this, although it’s been in the works for over a month now. However, the stuff I wrote for Day 3 has been finished since three weeks ago, so I’ve had significantly more time to proof-read it and thusly it won’t have quite as many typos that I managed to miss. ∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙-∙

#inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag week #InuKag Week 2023 #body swap #flora's posts #kagome #fanfic

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chaseyboy · 1 year

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My First Date with Priestess ~

This is the beginning of something magical.

To preface this, I was not anticipating anything at all. I had an interest in making connections, and I was on a specific app that was brought to my attention. I downloaded it, made no efforts to swipe a lot. If we’re being honest, swiping apps are crushing for pups like me. Rejection is a real deal and it is just rejection over and over. However two days later I got a match with someone. After a bit of banter I asked for her Snapchat, this girl seemed really neat. It makes a lot of sense now how drawn I was to our conversations. Even though I didn’t know about her wants for a puppy. It all came out naturally over messaging but it was not until the date that my whole being was brought to its knees.

I had planned to meet Priestess for Coffee in the morning. I was exceptionally eager to please her, that was obvious. She had told me to be ready for chastity before I had even come. So I had the feeling that was going to happen. The problem was my body was responding in such anticipation that as soon as she walked in I couldn’t remember what I was going to do or say, I think I stared at her too much but I couldn’t help it. It felt like I was in a surreal dream and it was only the beginning. It took so much mental effort to focus, I didn’t want to come across as weird, but the way we stared into each others eyes, it was grounding. I could feel our eyes melt away as our aura met. Telling me what to order, ordering me to clean up, it was instinctive, I didn’t have to think. It just happened. There was more than just my body obeying.

Our date transitioned to the park, but again I was starting to feel surreal. If I could point to the moment I remembered most, seared into my mind like it was branded, was when she told me to come. “Chase come”.. I feel that something broke in me. Not in a bad way, but like the way a glow stick has to snap to be lit up. It lit up inside me, deeper than the tummy rumbles. It was more than just a call to follow physically. She was asking me to give myself to her. To follow her deeper into this feeling. I was helpless to it. I didn’t want to stop it even if I could. On the outside I was giddy and happy. Inside I was losing a battle I had fought for so long. “Be free” my soul told me, “follow her”. It was reactive from then on. Every minute I spent with her felt the way it was supposed to. Of course I was still giddy and overly eager. However I wasn’t nervous, or anxious. When she told me fetch the frisbee when she threw it, there was no second thought. My body moved before I could process what had just happened. All I know is I wanted to fetch that toy. I wanted to be a good boy for her. I wanted to obey her.. it was shocking to discover that want was deeper than physically sexual. I yearned to do it. I had never done anything like that before, let alone at a public park, but any feelings of resistance vanished in a blink of an eye. The train crashed through whatever reluctance or shock I had. Even with the pangs of humiliation from being seen. It wasn’t important. What was important was getting that toy. And bringing it back to her. I wanted to play. Not like a person plays with another, how a dog would play with a person.

We walked past a restroom and Priestess ordered me to check if it was unlocked, which I did, and it was. Before I knew it a bag was given to me and I was told to put it on. I knew what it was, I obeyed. I went into the park bathroom and put on the chastity cage. Not for me, but for her. There was no doubt in my mind. I put that cage on and as soon as it clicked and locked, to my surprise relief washed over me. I thought I would be nervous, Instead it felt right. I was giving up my loneliness, my orgasms, my lack of control. Rather, I was giving it to her and the soul of puppy chase just smiled. I was not nervous, I was thrilled. Warmth filled me up inside. So much so I felt so disappointed that Priestess gave me the key to bring back. She was right of course. Don’t give your key to someone who you just met. That’s the smart thing to do. I was not thinking with my head. My soul wanted it.

The rest of the day was just perfect. From the conversations to the intense eye contact to the head rubs. Don’t even get me started on the head rubs. I must have been a good boy to earn those. My internal puppy tail was wagging so hard I could feel it. Another very real moment was when Priestess looked at me and told me “You are mine”. She just knew exactly how to pull right at the core of my being. And she knew that I knew it. Even though at the moment I’m Under Consideration of Priestess, she gave me a window to the finish line, and there was no argument in any part of me. I was going to make it there.

There’s two very distinct channels that were opened and with emotions coursing through. The first was from inside me, calling out to Priestess, the puppy instinct to please, obeying every command that she gave me, focusing on her and what she wanted. The second was Priestess calling out to me. Inviting me to give in to her. Give into my instincts. Be a good boy for her, the goodest boy I can be. Just like the cage, it wasn’t being puppy like for no one. I was going to be a dog for her. The dog that she wanted. The same dog that is so deeply ingrained in my inner sanctum. Fitting like a key to a lock. I knew it, it was no longer a want, it was a need. I need to be adopted by her. Become her property, her pet, it was about her. That was natural. No heavy thought went into that. It worked underneath the surface. Was I turned on? I’m sure I was. But I don’t even remember, and that should tell you precisely what happened.

It was an amazing day. I loved it more than I could describe with my limited words and narrow vocabulary. I’ve been good enough to be under consideration. I can’t tell you how overjoyed I am. Maybe I’ll finally get to be the puppy I always wanted.

Till next time ~

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dreamcubed · 2 years

Text

the loch ness monster | tom riddle x reader

song; the loch ness monster [matilda mann] pairing; tom riddle x gender neutral!reader genre; angst, ex-lovers word count; 1,3k timeline; around harry potter's birth warnings; swearing, implied abusive relationship, implied depression, suicidal thoughts summary; y/n had watched their lover become a despicable man capable of no good, and it pained them that he still had a hold over them

masterlist

"we all started to stray, nothing lasts anyway."

———————————

« I'm just swimming in lakes in my mind »

I have been swimming in the deep, gloomy lakes in my mind for what feels like eternity; each time I reach out for what appears to be a rescue line, it disappears into the inky blackness of my memories. My dark memories. They weren't always dark, though, they used to be bright and shined crystal clear like the sun on a warm Summer's day. It's Summer right now, but not for me.

« Don't make me get out and comply »

My mother tried suggesting therapy for me, to help me get out of my mental abyss, but I don't want to leave. If I leave, I have to come to terms with and accept everything that evil man did to me over the war. Me. His ally. His friend.

His lover.

« And my coy little smile will defend me awhile »

I smile it off to people like I always do; a small grin can go a long way if your eyes are convincing enough. After only a couple weeks, people stopped asking me how I was doing, under the false idea that I was over the relationship long before he fully succumbed to the dark side.

« So I'll stay with the lakes in my mind »

My intricately crafted lakes of each and every emotion and memory I have ever experienced; some more inaccessible than others, buried deep amongst the sand thousands of metres down. The memories of Tom are near the surface, however, since they are fresh wounds carved into my brain. I don't need to hold my breath to relive those events and feelings, they are right at my fingertips.

« Don't you dare think that here you can hide »

Young, calm, charming Tom. He still lives in my mind. I have to submerge a little in order to find him, but he is there nonetheless, acting like nothing bad ever happened. Every day, charming Tom sinks deeper, though, as he is fading in my mind. Was that version of him even real? Even I don't know anymore.

« We all started to stray, nothing lasts anyway »

I lost him- the original him- a very long time ago, when he began drifting towards more and more sinister views and methods, and thus straying away from me. Not only me, but also his friends: if he ever considered us his friends. I can't remember when it was that we all collectively accepted that Tom was too far gone.

« So I'll stay with the lakes in my mind »

These lakes are simultaneously my grasp on reality and the reason I'm losing touch. There is something so human about them, yet something so dangerous and consuming. I can't get out of the lakes (not that I've tried very hard) as I can feel the tugs underwater, beckoning me to venture further into my memories.

« And now you've faded with no traces »

Sometimes I feel like I'm forgetting who Tom was, and even is. Everything that happened between us was so incredibly surreal I question its authenticity every day. Nobody mentions him by that name anymore, it's like he never existed in the realms of our minds. Well, at least not mine. He moves around in the water like it's his second home, in many different versions of himself at once.

« So, who could ever tell? »

I struggle to tell the differences between the versions sometimes. They're all submerging into one gloomy memory.

« What you've taken's been misplaced »

Tom is only ever mentioned anymore by his new sinister name, or by the name that cowards created for him. His alias of Lord Voldemort holds an unreasonable amount of power; no wonder he went insane when he decided upon it. So much so that those afraid of him refer to him as either You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

« But your name doesn't ring any bells »

Who was Tom, really?

« Since the day that they took you to hell »

Whoever he was, he now surrounds himself with only evil. He has many followers, called death eaters, but no real friends. Not that he deserves any.

« I'm just swimming in lakes in my mind »

I can hear the echoes of my friends calling me back to reality, but I push my head under the water to muffle the sound further. It isn't safe out there, but it's safe in here, with everything I've ever known and no surprises. Reality could hold a million new blows to the gut that could completely break down my already fragile state.

« Too afraid to get out and deny »

Tom was my rock for so long. I never would have imagined that he would no longer be by my side; I thought it was a for-life thing.

« And my coy little smile will defend me awhile »

My limbs are numb as the coldness of the lake consumes my shivering body, and I wish for my brain to go numb as well. It's all become too much for me to take, so I just don't want to feel.

« So I'll stay with the lakes in my mind »

The hooded form of Tom conjures beside me, his arms wrapping around my figure and pulling me to the surface. I stare at him absently as he removes his hood, sighing when I see the evil grin that belongs to the Dark Lord - not my Tom.

« And now you've faded with no traces »

Where is my Tom?

« So, who could ever tell? »

No one can explain to me what happened to him in more detail than "his desire consumed him". What does that even mean?

« What you've taken's been misplaced »

He took my heart, and now I can't find it.

« But your name doesn't ring any bells »

Tom. Tom. Tom. His name has been said so many times in my mind it's become meaningless. But at the same time, it's the word that holds more meaning to me than any other.

« Since the day that they took you to hell »

"How have you been, sweetheart?" the eery memory of Voldemort speaks, "How come you haven't been to any meetings?"

« What's it like there in hell? »

"You know what you did," I reply shakily, "You betrayed me and everyone who loved you."

"I didn't betray anyone."

I scoffed, "What's it like being hell itself?"

« Glad they left you in hell »

"Lonely. I miss you."

"No you don't," I seethe, "I'm glad I left you."

« Stay right down there in hell »

"You don't mean that, darling."

"Yes I do. Stay away from me."

"I can't do that. I'm your conjuration, your memory, a part of you."

His lips curved into a smirk.

"I'll be with you in here until you die."

"Why?" The cracking of my voice remained evident.

"Because I'm a ghost of every version of Tom Riddle you've ever known, and my duty is to haunt you."

« So I'll stay with the lakes in my mind »

"This is my mind, and I don't want you here."

"Why don't you leave? Go back to your friends out there, re-become the Y/N you always were."

"You destroyed them."

"Maybe so, but you're the one choosing not to rebuild."

"It's not fucking easy, Tom."

He let out a laugh, "I have to go now, darling, but don't forget me- it's not like you can."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, and one more thing," he spoke as he began to fade.

"What?"

"Don't you dare think that here you can hide."

« Don't you dare think that here you can hide »

————————————

masterlist

written; 04/10/2021 —> 18/06/2022 published; 18/06/2022 edited; —/—/——

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #voldemort #lord voldemort #the dark lord #he who must not be named #you know who #hp fanfic #hp oneshots

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elsnotesappoutakes · 7 months

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Thoughts on Heartbreak.

For as long as there is summer, there will be summer flings. Fuelled by the sticky heat and optimism of sunshine; fleeting love affairs are tragically common at this time of year. However, this year they seem overly present, albums I enjoy portray brutal interpretations of such events, every time I open TikTok I’m warned of some cataclysmic astrological event that will ruin my love life or some girl who’s just been ghosted by her summer situationship and even every tv show I watch I see mirrors of interactions I’ve had since May. Maybe it’s my own echo chamber, spawned from my own thoughts and feelings but it seems of though this year was witness to the summer of inconsequential love.

My summer started by falling in love. Falling in love with someone that felt so unattainable and perfect it wasn’t real. We met at a bar in May, and I had failed to break up with my boyfriend the week before. You could visualise the sparks flying from us as though we were two protagonists meeting at the start of some bittersweet 2000s rom com, slowly leaning in, pupils growing and smiles lingering. Two days later I broke up with that boyfriend in the morning and went on a date with my lover in the evening. It felt all too surreal, all too euphoric, in hindsight you can tell it was doomed, nothing ever starts that good without a tragic ending, the story simply wouldn’t be good enough.

My love affair ended a few weeks ago, like I’m assuming so many others have. It was mild, and emotional, no flames, just two people being vulnerable and hating how cruel their honesty was being. Summers ended, the films have ended, and we must all return to normality and reality. Ever since my breakup, I have been looming on the concept of heartbreak and what it does to an individual. It’s a time and feeling of great sadness, one where your heart feels like its being sucked into a void that pulling at everything inside of you and all you can think of is their smile, their laugh, all the little mundane moments that made you feel loved so massively. It’s brutal, the most similar experience I can think of is death, but somehow crueller as that person gets to go on knowing every side of you and you every side of them, but now you’re forced to act like strangers despite once being each other’s best friends.

The worst part and best part of heartbreak is acceptance. You finally recognise the tragic reasoning for your parting, if its you, if its them, it doesn’t matter – but it will always involve someone putting themselves first. In a good or bad way, the one left heartbroken is often a victim of someone’s own self-fulfilment even if it was a difficult decision of the other to make. Hence, the sharp stab of honesty in these moments. On the other hand, acceptance is the first step towards moving forward. There are no more questions, there’s no more overwhelming emotion, it’s the quiet end to a brutal emotional storm.

The effect of a breakup, especially one when you’re still very in love can be much akin to a hurricane. It comes in roaring, creating anxiety, insecurity and anger, demolishing the bedrock of our egos. We question our attractiveness, our personality, our effort, our kindness, our naivety – everything we ever gave to the person. But then, we reach acceptance and contentment with our loss, we mourn our time together, we mourn all the futures we could have had, but we finally realise that no matter how much we fix, how much were willing to sacrifice, if someone truly wants to leave its solely an issue with them, and we can call them selfish but the reality is that we empathise and we understand and we have to let them go.

The thing with life is that we very rarely plan something out, in careers, in family, in friends, we often fall and stumble into these people and experiences, and I think this is very true of love. If someone wants to leave, I someone rejects you, I someone uses you – they were never meant for you. Love should be like a puzzle piece perfectly slotting in, not something forced in the gap because its eventually going to spring out. These great love affairs will shape us, teach us and help us grow but we shouldn’t force them to be something they’re not meant to be. We should take them as a lesson in how to love. And eventually, after so many lessons in love you’ll stumble and fall into someone who sees you as a part of their self-fulfilment instead of an obstacle and it will all be worth it then.

#heartbreak #heartache #breakup #relationship #relatable #summer #romance #blog #thinking #self care #self love #writing #writer #normal people #words #journal #dear diary

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ptrckjcne · 2 years

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⇨ HJERTEKNUSER

pairing: luke alvez x reader type: one shot / word count: 1.4k warnings: none, i think? timeline: overlapping the last couple of seasons -> post season 15

even the best of relationships may reach an abrupt end.

hjerteknuser (norwegian) meaning heartbreaker.

inspired by the song hjerteknuser by kaizers orchestra; i have your ring on my finger, the ring that is still blank, stating that you are my heartbreaker.

read under the cut!

Imagine the kind of relationship where everything was alright. Every fight would end in a make-up kiss, a hug and a “I’m sorry, you know I love you, right.” It’s quite surreal, but for you and Luke, it has been like that. It had been this way for years, actually, and even during the worst of days for Luke in the fugitive task force, there hadn’t been a single ounce of doubt regarding your relationship. You loved him. He loved you. Nothing was going to come between you, ever.

The apartment you shared, a former industrial loft with large windows, had been your home; the sofa you had bought together, falling into a fit of laughter as you had spent a whole day just testing sofas, being the centre of the room. By its side stood the table with your vintage record player, the one you had kept in mint condition after inheriting it from your grandparents. Luke had adored it, and while the collection of vinyls grew whenever either one of you had the chance to buy a new one, it was always the same album that was played; the gentle music of an instrumental album echoing off the walls in your home as Luke hugged you close, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He would love it as you hummed along to the music, a smile curling the corners of your lips upwards as it turned into the background music of your everyday life.

He had proposed to you on the anniversary date of your 6th anniversary, a cheesy proposal with a whole speech planned – though the highlight of the night was how he accidentally dropped the ring into his bowl of pasta, his cheeks a burning red as he fished it out with his fork and had to call the waiter to your table to get some assistance in cleaning it off. For the wedding itself, you had eloped, Luke briefly mentioning it to his boss, before the two of you found yourself at the town hall, finalising your marriage without a single ounce of hesitation.

Luke wasn’t foreign to the thought of curling up next to you on the sofa, his head in your lap as your hand carded through his hair, toying each curl free from the product he used to keep them in place, nails scratching gently along his scalp as you soothed him to sleep. During the weekends he didn’t work, you would spend long hours in the kitchen, laughing and sharing kisses as you worked on dinner, some extravagant meal that Luke demanded he cooked for you, doing what he could for it to make up for his crazy work hours.

Time and time again you would try to tell him it didn’t matter; what was important to you was the fact that he had a job he enjoyed, and even though he loved his work with the fugitive task force, he had seemed so much more at ease when he had been offered the position within the Behavioural Analysis Unit. His work was still crazy, if possible even crazier than it had previously, but he enjoyed it – even after having to do things you knew he deep down hated. However, you started feeling the pressure of his work.

Luke had been in danger before, naturally, with his line of work. Still, there was always this peace within you, keeping you at bay and knowing that he had a team that would go to the end of the Earth if it meant bringing him home safely. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the BAU; they all worked hard to keep each other safe, and with that also putting away some of the worst criminals one could possibly think about and imagine. Yet, the fact that he would return to the comfort of your home with bruises and cuts, sore and in pain, releasing the occasional yelp as you held him close like you had always done, you started to worry. When the reports came in that he, alongside Matt Simmons, had been abducted by a gang of criminals. When he came home, bruised and broken, he had claimed it was you who kept him going; the thought of you and the feeling of the cool metal of his wedding ring on his finger keeping him in touch with reality, keeping him adamant he needed to get home.

Little did he know, that was one of the last times he would be coming home to find you waiting for him, anxiously pacing the floor of your living room as you worried about the amount of cuts and bruises, how his shape would be reduced to that of someone who should have been hospitalised. The last time he had come home to you, he had noticed something was off; something in your stance, or the way you looked at him – but he chose to ignore it, the relief of being home within the comfort of your apartment, near you. Neither one of you had spoken about it, the obvious elephant in the room. Instead, he had uttered how happy he was to be home with you and Roxy, and you had replied with how it was good to see him at home, alive and in one piece, seemingly without cuts and bruises. There was something about your words that caused an ache to blossom deep within his chest, a hurt he hadn’t experienced previously in your relationship. However, he took a deep breath, deciding to brush it off to be worried and tired; after all, you had been waiting for him, even when he arrived late.

That next time he returned home, the apartment was quiet, apart from the sound of Roxy’s claws against the floor as she ran to greet him. The lights were turned off, your shoes were no longer in their spot by the door, and your coat had been removed from the coat rack long ago. Swallowing nervously, a muscle in his jaw ticking frequently, Luke tensed as he stepped into the apartment, Roxy on his heel as he surveyed the apartment, feeling hopeless until his eyes landed on the note on the kitchen counter.

I’m sorry.

The two words were scribbled with a shaky hand, the wedding ring you had worn since the day the two of you eloped placed neatly beside it. Luke felt weird, as if he wanted to yell out, though he simply couldn’t. Instead, he picked up your ring, needing to find a safe place for it. It was a cliché really, the way you had left, and even though no one was to blame (no one but Luke’s job, and the ever growing worry you were left with), Luke couldn’t help but blame himself. However, he wasn’t about to let anyone in on what had happened – not yet, at least. He needed time to work things out on his own, find his place in the chaos he called his life, especially now that he didn’t have his lighthouse guiding him home.

He continued wearing his wedding ring, not even once thinking about removing it from his finger. Whenever he was asked questions about you, about your life together, he faked it, though kept his head cool, calm and collected, making sure he never told two different stories. He picked up habits that no one seemed to notice; nervously plucking at his stubble, twisting the ring on his finger, not failing to notice how the cool metal got twisted around so much it felt warm against his skin. Yet, no one seemed to notice – not even when he showed up to work, a faint smell of whisky from his shirt, and for once, Luke found it better that he could sink into the background, that people seemed to mind their own business.

The ring on his finger was no longer a symbol of a faithful marriage, a promise he had made to a person he loved dearly. It had become a symbol of a white lie, a cover story he was unsure of how long he could keep up. For a while, during your marriage, he had thought about getting it engraved, some cheesy word describing his love for you, accompanied by your name. Instead, it had remained blank, nothing but scratches covering its surface, now the symbol of a heartbreak rather than a love.

#marie writes #luke alvez #luke alvez fanfiction #one shot #luke alvez one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x gender neutral reader #luke alvez x you #criminal minds one shot

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good-wine-and-cheese · 2 months

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Writing Patterns (Tag Game)

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Tagged by @lethotep <3

I am also going to write more than just the first line since I too am a "very short snappy intro line" writer and want to include some more to the context. So you get the first paragraph instead. (I will bold the first lines though)

Generally speaking I try to include "commentary" in my first lines; usually from the character we will be following, but sometimes about the character we will be following. I either want to introduce a little bit of their attitude toward whatever is happening/has happened, or more broadly define what other people think of them.

However if I'm writing a story that either is an AU which requires some world explanation or involves specific historical (fiction or otherwise) events I will often try to identify those to set the scene and center the audience in the time/place.

But yeah usually my very first sentence is pretty short.

1. the indomitable human soul (Astro Boy): Tenma was not one who kept track of the days. Dates, yes; he remembered dates. Important dates like birthdays. Anniversaries. Deaths. But not the days themselves; they were all the same, a singular ebb and flow of time that occasionally involved sleeping, occasionally involved eating, but most often involved working.

2. His Many Multitudes (Astro Boy/PLUTO): So much death. So many tragedies. Every life belonged to someone that was loved, and it was those loved ones who bore the consequence of death. In Gesicht, there had fostered hatred so intense that he had taken human life. In Abullah, his hatred sought to swallow the entire world. And the one to stir that hatred…the one who had stirred it within Atom, too…

3. what world we wrought (PLUTO): ”In recent months, the President of Thracia has leveled heavy criticism toward the Kingdom of Persia for its barbaric treatment of its robotic population. President Alexander has sparked controversy for his approach to foreign policy, taking on a more aggressive approach than his predecessor during an already tumultuous time. Yet, on the issues of robot oppression, the President is said to be…”

4. Cogs and Machines (PLUTO): It was not in the nature of the meekly-mannered inventor of Zeronium to make a fuss. Many - most - knew him to be amicable, sometimes fast-talking, a little bit softspoken in the presence of more imposing faces. Yet even the meek and the quiet had limits, and those who caught sight of Dr. Hoffman hurrying down the hall to the director’s office would claim to recall three things: the stormy glare that made a monstrous thing of his face; the white-knuckle grip he had on a particular folder under his arm; and the heavy force of each stride taken that belonged to someone usually so light-footed.

5. Don't Turn Around (Monster): There weren’t words for this feeling. None that Tenma could even approach to represent it as an emotion. If anything, it was characterized by lack.. It was almost surreal; as he watched Grimmer’s life come to a close, he was the one who was losing touch with what he felt. If Grimmer had just now received a letter that was filled with all of his lost feelings, then Tenma’s had been sealed inside an envelope and lost someplace out of sight. He could do little more than stare, watching as everyone but him broke into mournful weeping and ragged wailing. He found himself questioning why his heart was the only one that felt empty. Why it continued to feel empty, why that emptiness stayed with him even after Johan’s surgery. Had those feelings of his been stolen? Had Grimmer reached out and taken them, in his final moments alive?

6. Ghost on the Shore (Monster): The waves were pretty rough sometimes. Worse when the rain came with them. But it was still beautiful in a way. Just the sound of water crashing and breaking on the rocks, wearing them down slowly, so slowly with time. From the lighthouse it was safe just to watch and listen. Not as though there was much else for a man to do. So, Wolfgang Grimmer kept his own quiet company watching the waves, humming to himself as he waited for the storm to pass. The rocks would be slippery after all that downpour. He’d have to be careful, venturing out and…

7. it takes a lot to understand (Monster): They called an ambulance. It didn't take very long for the sound of sirens to register, but by then it was time to leave. Doctor Tenma wasn't keen to take his chances to be spotted by authorities, but it was understandable given the run-in with those folks at the border that had nearly cost him his passage out of Germany.

8. hello, my old heart (Monster): “Welcome, sir. If there’s anything you need help with, please let me know.”

9. Monster's Abyss (Monster): The case of Peter Jurgens was, by all accounts but one, textbook in its nature from start to finish. Numerous interviews had allowed Gillen to delve into the mind of the killer, shaping anecdotes of memory into the human that existed as he was known today. Indeed, it was easy enough to write Jurgens off as a “monster”, sick and depraved with a hunger for power and sexual thrill. But that was simply a shallow label that held no meaning outside of distancing oneself from the natures of such a man. After all, if Jurgens was simply a “monster”, then he was no longer human. Categorizing violence as monstrous inherently removed it from humanness, and so the average man and woman could sleep comfortably without self-reflection because they, of course, were not monsters.

10. maybe it's the way that i'm supposed to grieve (Monster): I’m worried about him. After everything...do you really think he should be left alone? … I...I know. But I just...I want to be there for him, if I can.

I'll tag @strawberryclementine @duckoffury and anyone else that wants to do it!! I do not know a lot of folks that have 10+ fics I think but please feel free to take this from me if u want <3

#writing things #tag game #monster spoilers #for some reason this did nawtttt want to publish when I had the fic links put into a blockquote so uh. whatever lol #I may start with a short first sentence but uhhhh the paragraphs themselves? long lol #also fuck I needdddd to get back on monster's abyss. I need to finish that #want to write gillen being a bitch again. hrgh #but i have to finish sad (umataro)tenma story first #and also the pluto AU #those are the ones rattling my brain the moooost #punching my own teeth out over some of these fic names. i need to get fuckin better at that sis

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mcverse · 11 months

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I want to ask for a Kaptain Krazee x female reader story in which the female reader who is in her mid-20s is transported from the real world to the Haunting Hour Series world. She is turned into a clown, and Chris's parents take her in. When she meets the other clowns, Kaptain Krazee in particular develops a strong, obsessive interest in her. The female reader has no desire to be romantically linked with Kaptain Krazee in any way because she finds him to be so strange and creepy. Even though he is aware of this, Kaptain Krazee still tries to capture her heart and make her his bride. The female reader thinks of him as odd and frightening, despite his attempts to show his love for her in his own unique and strange way. Also, the female reader will have a choice whether to leave the Haunting Hour Series World and return to her own or stay in it forever after 10 days. I think it would be interesting if Kaptain Krazee were to find out some kind of way because then he would try everything within his power to make sure the reader cannot leave him.

Note: This episode is known as “Afraid of Clowns” of the Haunting Hour Series and the full episode is available to watch on youtube. Note: Kaptain Krazee is the leader of Clowns and ringmaster of his circus.

Pairing: Kaptain Krazee x Clown F! Reader

Requested: Yes/No

Type: Part 1 out of 2

Word count: 3.6K

Sidebar: Had a lot of fun with this. Freaking love isekai stories. Was supposed to be a one shot but it’s too long for that.

Warning: Clowns, isekai reader, obsession, toxic behavior (Yandere-ish)

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It was a strange experience.

One moment, you're innocently clicking on a link sent by your friend, and the next moment, you find yourself transported into your phone, landing unceremoniously in front of a house.

Things only get stranger from there.

As you pick yourself up and try to make sense of what just happened, you notice that your feet have become unusually large and your hands have grown in proportion. It's unsettling to say the least.

A scream involuntarily escapes your throat as you examine your hands, treating them as if they belong to someone else. As you're caught up in your confusion, the front door opens, and two figures emerge. Well, not just any figures – they're clowns, wearing frowns instead of smiles.

Another scream escapes your lips as you fall back and start crawling away, desperately trying to convince yourself that this isn't real. But with each backward movement, the clowns advance, gradually lowering themselves to your level. It's a surreal experience, and in your panic, incoherent words spill from your mouth. The clowns simply tilt their heads and smile.

"Oh my God!" you gasp, a shiver running down your spine. It has been years since you last felt afraid of clowns, a childhood fear that you had overcome. But now, it all comes rushing back as you begin to hyperventilate. Your eyes roll back, and everything goes dark.

When you regain consciousness, you find yourself in a different setting – a warm and comfortable home, lying on a couch. A delightful aroma reaches your nose, and you slowly sit up, searching for the source. To your delight, you spot a plate of breakfast on the coffee table in front of you.

Your stomach betrays you at first sight, growling at its alluring smell and appeal. Looking around you once more, you grab the plate to sniff it before starting to eat. You weren’t too surprised to see that the it taste as good as it look but you were still cautious after waking up.

However, you bite freezes midway as you hear a creaking sound. Slowly turning your head, you come face to face with two figures standing there, wearing unsettlingly sweet smiles. An overwhelming sense of eerie déjà vu washes over you, though you can't quite pinpoint where you've encountered it before.

The man and woman exchange glances, their expressions a mix of concern and reassurance. It is the tall and slender man who takes a step forward, crouching slightly to meet your gaze. His voice is calm and gentle as he speaks, "We're here to help you."

Confusion clouds your mind as you struggle to make sense of their words. "Help me? I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about," you respond, blinking in an attempt to gather your thoughts amidst the growing uncertainty.

The woman, sensing your confusion, crouches down beside the man, her eyes filled with understanding. "Do you really not remember, dear?" she asks softly, her voice carrying a hint of familiarity. And suddenly, like pieces of a puzzling puzzle falling into place, it dawns on you why their faces seem so familiar.

"Holy shit! You're those clowns," you exclaim, the plate slipping from your grasp and shattering loudly as it meets the floor. With a mix of fear and disbelief, you instinctively leap backward onto the couch, curling up in the corner as if seeking refuge from the surreal reality before you. "You're those clowns! But... but now you're human? What the hell is happening?"

Their smiles fade slightly, the woman reaches out a hand in a gesture of reassurance, "Please, try to stay calm," she says softly. "We understand that this is confusing and overwhelming, but there's more to the story than you remember."

Reluctantly, you unfold yourself from the corner of the couch, your heart pounding in your chest. The shattered plate on the floor lies forgotten as your focus shifts to the mysterious pair standing before you. They appear human now, but you can't shake the memory of their clown personas. Slowly, they approach you, their human disguises still intact.

"We're sorry for the scare," the woman says gently, sitting down beside you. "We are part of a secret clown society that operates in the shadows. We hide among humans, blending in with everyday life."

Confusion and disbelief swirl within you. Clowns with a secret society? It sounds so silly it didn’t seem possible. Yet, the sincerity in their eyes and the unusual circumstances you find yourself in make it difficult to dismiss their words.

The man continues, sitting down beside the woman, peering past her to you, "We were getting ready for bed when we heard your scream. Concerned for your well-being, we rushed outside to find you in front of our house, transformed into a clown. Before we could offer any assistance, you fainted."

You take in their explanation, slowly absorbing the strange turn of events. Despite the lingering fear, a glimmer of curiosity surfaces. You find yourself asking, "Why do you hide among humans? And how did I end up in this situation?"

The woman's smile is tinged with sadness as she answers, "Our society seeks to bring joy and laughter to the world, but not everyone likes clowns so we have to hide. As for you ending up here, well, we aren’t so sure..” she trails off, looking the broken plate on the floor.

Regret fills your eyes as you realize the unintended consequences of your actions. The plate shattering on the floor leaves you with a sense of remorse, hoping it wasn't a cherished possession to the woman.

“But I know who might!” the man exclaims, a spark of excitement lights up the man's eyes, and he enthusiastically rubs his hands together. The woman's expression mirrors his excitement, forming an 'o' shape with her mouth as she grasps his idea.

"Oh, that's right!" she exclaims, matching the man's enthusiasm. "We can bring her to him!" However, their excitement only deepens your confusion. Who is this mysterious person they are referring to?

Blinking in confusion, you interject, your gaze shifting back and forth between the two clowns. "Again, sorry, but who exactly is 'him' that you're talking about?"

Their smiles widen, and once again, you find their presence unsettling. You instinctively shift away from them, hoping to create some distance without drawing too much attention. Whether they notice your subtle movement or not remains unclear. Without further ado, they both rise from the couch, each taking on a different task. The woman stoops down to gather the broken pieces of the plate while the man makes his way towards the kitchen.

As the man disappears from your sight, the woman pauses and directs her gaze towards you. Her eyes hold a reassuring expression as she speaks, "Don't worry, you'll receive the help you need. I promise." She nods affirmatively, punctuating her words with a playful wink. With that, she straightens herself and gracefully walks away, presumably to dispose of the shattered remnants of the plate.

Left alone in the room, you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. Countless questions fill your mind, but there are no answers in sight. The mere act of sitting there, pondering why you are here, who this mysterious "him" is, and how you can escape becomes a recipe for madness. The uncertainty looms over you, making it difficult to make sense of your situation.

The room feels confining, and you can't help but feel trapped. Each passing moment only amplifies your desire to unravel the enigma that surrounds you. You yearn to understand why this has happened and what steps you can take to break free from wherever you are. The weight of it all threatens to overwhelm you.

Just as despair starts to settle in, a glimmer of hope emerges. You hear footsteps approaching, breaking the silence that has enveloped the room. Relief washes over you, tinged with a hint of apprehension. They have returned, bringing with them the possibility of guidance and answers. It's a chance to find your way out of this perplexing situation.

"Come on. We're going for a ride," the man says, while the woman holds out a jacket, beckoning you to follow. They are both wearing coats, with the man positioned at the door. As you reach the woman, she kindly assists you in putting on the jacket, for which you express gratitude with a smile. Her gesture was thoughtful and unnecessary.

Once you step outside, the chill in the air becomes apparent, amplifying your gratitude for the coat. You snuggle into it, seeking both warmth and comfort for your nerves. Uncertain of their destination, you reluctantly enter the vehicle, gazing out the window as the house recedes into the distance.

Usually, someone in your situation would be scared. You don't know where you are, what happened last night, or how there's a secret clown group. You're not sure if the people in the front are telling the truth. But then you remember that you're an adult who can make decisions like an adult. Whether it was safe to fall, you were confident you can make the right choice when it comes. And if clowns really exist and you were one...

"Wasn't I a clown last night?" you inquire, shifting your gaze away from the window to fixate on the back of the man's head, hoping for an immediate response.

He affirms with a nod, "Yep…but you can't exactly walk around as a clown, can you??" His statement elicits a few soft chuckles from the woman, who rests her hand on his leg.

You hum in agreement, "I suppose not..." You divert your attention back to the window, only to witness the scenery abruptly morphing before your eyes. Shock causes your eyes to widen, prompting you to sit up in your seat. You desperately want to question if they are witnessing thing too, but as they appear unfazed, you figure that such occurrences are normal for them.

The car approaches, it passes through a grand gate, granting a view of a captivating sight: rows of colorful circus tents on both sides. Surprisingly, the entire place seems eerily deserted, leaving you to wonder where all the performers and crew might be. The car eventually comes to a stop right in front of the largest tent, positioned prominently at the center, demanding attention.

The couple exit the car first, and you follow suit, but at a more deliberate pace. Determination fuels your steps as you remind yourself that unraveling the mysteries and discovering the answers you seek is your primary objective. The once-intimidating presence of clowns no longer instills fear in you; it's a reassurance you repeatedly affirm within your mind.

Approaching the entrance of the large tent, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty fills the air. The flaps of the tent flap gently in the breeze, as if inviting you to step inside and uncover the secrets that lie within.

The couple reach the entrance, their expressions composed yet brimming with a shared understanding. They hold the flap open, gesturing for you to enter first. Stepping over the threshold, you find yourself in a different world altogether. The interior of the tent is a vibrant tapestry of colors, adorned with glittering decorations and whimsical props. The scent of sawdust and cotton candy lingers in the air, evoking memories of childhood circuses.

A scream escapes your lips when you turn around to see the couple pull off their faces, only to be amplified when a group of eerie clowns materializes behind you. The once-jolly atmosphere of the tent is now suffused with an overwhelming sense of dread. Grinning unnaturally, the clowns fix their intense gazes upon you, their presence sending shivers down your spine.

Without uttering a word, they part to create a path that leads you further into the tent. Reluctantly, you follow their lead, your heart pounding in your chest as you step along the trail. The air grows heavy with an inexplicable tension, as if the very fabric of reality is warping around you.

Finally, you arrive at a door adorned with shimmering lights and golden accents. This is the threshold, the gateway to the unknown. It beckons you to cross over, promising answers to the questions that have haunted your mind.

The clown couple, their disfigured faces twisted into macabre smiles, turn to address you. Their voices carry an eerie warmth, contrasting with their terrifying appearance. "This is where you shall find the answers you seek," the woman says, her words resonating in the air. The man nods in agreement, his eyes gleaming with a peculiar intensity.

Summoning your courage, you extend your hand and grasp the ornate doorknob. It feels cool and solid beneath your touch, sending a shiver down your spine. With a deep breath, you turn the knob, feeling a blend of excitement and apprehension coursing through your veins.

The door opens with a haunting creak, revealing a chamber bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. The gentle light spills into the room, illuminating a space adorned with cryptic symbols and ancient artifacts. Each object seems to hold a fragment of the enigma you've been yearning to unravel. It's a place where hidden truths lie, waiting to be discovered.

Compelled by an insatiable curiosity, you step into the chamber, and the door closes behind you with a resounding thud. The outside world is sealed away, leaving you alone in this mysterious sanctuary. The air crackles with a sense of anticipation, and you find yourself surrounded by a tapestry of secrets. In the center of the room stands a large, ornate mirror, its reflective surface beckoning you closer.

Approaching the mirror cautiously, you catch a glimpse of your own reflection, but it flickers for a moment, as if a veil of uncertainty hangs over it. Suddenly, a figure materializes behind you in the mirror—a large male clown, his face adorned with white paint, accentuated by a purple diamond pattern over each eye, red diamonds on each cheek and a blood colored nose. His long, fiery red hair matches the shape of his thinly painted unibrow and enlarged painted red smile, adding to his unsettling appearance.

The sight startles you, and the line between reality and illusion blurs. Doubts creep into your mind, making you question your sanity since entering this surreal realm. As the clown begins to walk closer towards you, a mix of relief and terror washes over you. You back away, unintentionally bumping into the mirror, your heart pounding.

Desperately, you try to assert yourself, mustering a threatening voice, "Don't come any closer!" But the clown seems unperturbed, his lips curling into a macabre smile. He continues to advance, disregarding your warning as if it were mere amusement to him.

Peering down at you, his gaze filled with unsettling curiosity, he mutters to himself, "What do we have here?" His tone carries a sense of eerie intrigue, leaving you wondering what his intentions might be in this mysterious place.

Your heart races as he reaches out his hand, the movement appearing in slow motion. The anticipation builds, contrasting with the frantic beats of your heart. His hand finally touches your cheek, sending a chilling sensation down your spine. The touch slides to the back of your head, his fingers entwining in your hair with a firm grip.

Shock and disbelief wash over you, rendering you motionless for a brief moment. The sheer horror of the situation freezes you in place as you try to comprehend the impossible, despite seeing it earlier once. Your mind races, searching for rational explanations, but none seem to suffice.

With trembling hands, you reach up to touch your face, expecting the worst. As your fingertips make contact, relief washes over you—your skin remains intact. However, your reflection in the mirror reveals a haunting transformation. Half of your face is covered in a ghastly layer of white paint, smeared with ominous splotches of red and black shapes that seem to mock you. The other half retains its natural complexion, creating an eerie juxtaposition that serves as a constant reminder of the encounter with the clown couple.

"What's going on?" Your words hang in the air, unanswered, as you lock eyes with the clown standing behind you. He remains silent, his mouth agape, seemingly as bewildered as you are. Yet, his intense and unwavering gaze sends chills down your spine, making you squirm with discomfort.

"You're no ordinary clown," he murmurs, his eyes flickering over you, confusion marring his face as he tries to make sense of your presence. After a brief moment of observation, he asks, "How did you find yourself here?"

You eagerly respond, "That's why I'm here! I was told you could provide answers." Your voice carries a hint of disappointment, and your head lowers in a slight pout, feeling upset and vulnerable.

The clown clicks his tongue and lifts your head gently by your chin, making you meet his gaze. He shakes his head, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing against your cheek. "You're one of us now. We don't look down, only up," he grins wildly as you peer up at him, a mix of awe and fear in your eyes. Being this close to him amplifies his scary appearance by tenfold. "You've come to the right place. They call me the ringmaster, Kaptain Krazee. And what's your name, doll?"

You recoil slightly, offering him a hesitant smile. "(Name)," you reply softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Will you help me?"

His smile falters, his gaze shifting away from you to a book resting on his desk. His head tilts, as if engaged in an internal struggle. Eventually, he nods reluctantly, taking a step back and moving towards the desk to retrieve the book.

"This book ain't your ordinary read," he murmurs, his eyes lighting up with fascination. He turns towards you, his excitement bubbling over. "It's got somethin' magical about it, see? Changes its contents for whoever lays their hands on it. It's like a secret language only it knows." He trails off, then takes a step closer to you, extending the book in your direction. "I reckon it's got a page or two just for you. Care to take a peek?"

You hold the ancient book in your sweaty palms, unsure of what mysteries lie within its weathered pages. With hesitant anticipation, you carefully open it, and to your astonishment, letters manifest out of thin air, forming a message that appears as if by magic.

The words on the page reveal an extraordinary truth – you are one of the few individuals who have been mysteriously transported into this fantastical world. The book explains that you have been granted a precious gift of ten days to explore this realm, to unravel its secrets, and to determine your fate within it. After the allotted time, you will face a pivotal decision: whether to remain in this enchanting world or return to the reality you left behind.

As you read the words, Kaptain Krazee's impatience gets the better of him. He leans in, his curiosity piqued, and his frown deepens upon comprehending the significance of the book's message. Ten days seemed far too short for him. He had become fascinated by your presence and longed for more time to explore the depths of your connection.

Contemplating the book's message, the clown's thoughts race. He realizes that within these ten days, he has a chance to show you the joy and wonder of being a clown, to share his world and get to know you better. Perhaps, just perhaps, there is a glimmer of hope that you might choose to stay, not only within this realm but by his side.

When you lower the book, you notice his intense gaze fixed on you again. His eyes reveal emotions you can't quite grasp, leaving you puzzled. What is he trying to convey? You're not a mind reader, and even if you were, you're not sure you'd want to know his thoughts. There's an air of mystery and hidden intentions surrounding him.

"Okay," you nod, handing the book back to him. You turn away, deep in thought about what lies ahead. Ten days may not seem like much, but you have to muster the patience to endure this surreal experience. It's the only way you can make it through.

You flinch instinctively as his hands rest gently on your shoulders, uncertain about the intentions behind his seemingly affectionate gesture. You steal a sideways glance, meeting Kaptain Krazee's mischievous grin. His words, filled with an unnerving enthusiasm, make you question his perception of you.

"I'm here to lend a helping hand, my dear. We have plenty of exciting things to occupy your time," he exclaims with an exaggerated cheerfulness. "And trust me, with your natural charm and unique appearance, you'll be the star of the show."

His comment leaves you perplexed, causing your eyebrow to raise in skepticism. Charm? Looks? You've never regarded yourself as particularly charming or attractive, especially not in your current clown-like guise. The notion seems absurd, and you can't help but wonder what relevance appearance holds in the context of the circus. Everything within these twisted walls seems to serve a purpose, often a sinister one.

Your gaze narrows as you scrutinize Kaptain Krazee, searching for any hidden meaning behind his words. Is there something he's not telling you? The circus is known for its tricks and illusions, after all. You've learned a long time ago to be cautious, wary of what lies beneath the surface and knew you can take care of yourself.

He steps back, motioning towards the door with a slight bow. "Shall we?" he asks.

#Kaptain Krazee #Clown #x reader #reader insert #haunting hour #teratophila #x clown reader #monster #monsters #˚₊‧꒰ა omnific ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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shoresphere · 9 months

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me and you, and a very bad case of hopeless romanticism.

Hex Codes : #FFD400 #87CEEB

i have called the surface of this giant rock "home" for well over seventeen years, i've had quite a few experiences in regards to love; be it crushes, unrequited feelings, boyfriends, friends, family, pets, peers, passions, interests, and so forth. and to be perfectly honest, love is great. sure, it has its (very big) ups and downs most of the time but love has always been something that i find to be amazing. some people call it naïveté, i think "curiosity" is a better and less condescending term.

i've established that yes, the idea of love is a topic i find quite interesting. however, something that piques my interest a little more is the "color of love."

as someone who is absolutely obsessed with associating colors to every scenario, love is somewhat an enigma; it is something inconsistent, forever changing to those who experience it. no one sees and feels the same color as it is something that is quite up for interpretation. it is both warm and cool and some aspects are neutral, it is black and white yet the most colorful thought. it's quite surreal to think about.

platonic and familial love is something i would like to save for a different time though. as august is about to start, i'd like to say that i've had my fair share of colors associated with the chaos we call romantic attraction.

love had been pink, a love for a childhood best friend never to be requited. an experience i still hold quite dearly and has forever shaped a part of me.

it has been orange, a love that fell apart due to circumstance yet will always have so much respect for each other. a friend beforehand, and still a friend after all the wreckage our untimely love brought upon us.

it had been red, burnt my skin and burnt my heart as i let a man tear me down and build me back up all for his amusement. played by a cheater, a fraud, a heartbreaker, a liar, and a good-for-nothing idiot.

and love has been purple, a love that died the same way a candle in a rainstorm would. a slow and painful decay of not being given enough flame to keep the fire alive, not given a shelter for the love to thrive.

love had been bitter, left me bruised and battered far too many times. despite all of this, experiences give me new colors for my pallet. a sick way to look at situations but what is hurt if not an experience to enhance your art?

i'm still desperately hoping and begging that one day, the right color of love would come to me. for it to envelope me until i exhale my last sigh of content, before falling into the deep blackness of death.

maybe love will come to me soon, too.

and maybe, hopefully,

love comes in the form of you.

a blue boy i barely know but i would love to get to know. eyes that shine with artistry, lips that sing such a good melody, mind full of creativity, and a heart perfect for me made perfectly. a showstopper, head-turner, painfully amazing blue boy with skies as clear as day.

are those eyes actually hollow, full of self-pity? lips kept shut for an eternity when asked, how is he? mind fogged with misery? is your sky actually blue or is it the grayest, are they cloudy?

i would love to know who knows?

maybe this is just a crush, randomly passing by. i'll probably get over this soon. i probably won't.

what would i know? in the end, i am just a boy who is extremely fascinated with the thought and occurrence of love. the flaws and pros of it pique my interests, in such a way that even music could not capture my attention the same. it's methodical, it's scientific, it's a stupid kid's forever wish.

#poetry #colors #love #love me pls #hex codes #rant #aesthetic #i guess #idk what tags to use #i have a crush #he's cool #Spotify #playlist #writing #spilled ink #thoughts

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reira-layla · 1 year

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I Knew I Loved You

Requested by anon on my AO3

Plot: Shigure's POV on the day of Akito's conception as well as his conversation with Hatori that day.

"I'll see you soon."

He dreamed of her and that was the beginning and end of everything. It was the beginning of a lifetime devoted to her but it was also the end of an existence that had felt empty. The boy had often found life to be rather dull, always feeling as though he was waiting for something and yet, he hadn't the faintest idea what he'd been waiting on. All it took was a dream and he'd found the missing piece.

Although still young, the boy had read his fair share of fairy tales and poems. The concept of love was foreign regardless of how many times he'd read those stories, but he assumed that what he felt now was something comparable to love. Was this love? But how could he love someone he'd never met? It was as if his soul recognized hers on a level much deeper than just the dog spirit within him recognizing its god. This was something else entirely and although he couldn't put a name to this feeling, he knew it was something he wanted to feel forever.

The tears he'd cried that morning were the most tears he'd cried since birth. In fact, the boy wasn't particularly big on displaying emotion. Shigure was an enigma to his friends and his parents. Hatori and Ayame spent more time with him than anyone else but neither of them had ever seen him weep the way he wept for her and the feelings that consumed him.

The dream had been so vivid and he'd replayed it over and over in his head as he got dressed, eager to meet the other zodiac children. Surely they'd all had the same dream, but did they all feel the way Shigure had? It was hard to imagine that any of the others felt the way he did and honestly, he hoped they didn't. Whatever this feeling was, he didn't want it to end.

As expected, the others were waiting for him outside of his house. No words needed to be exchanged given that they all knew what this meant, how important this day was for all of them. As they ran to the main house, Shigure led the way. He took note of the fact that the others didn't seem enthusiastic in the same way that he did and that alone was enough to assure him that his feelings ran much deeper than a bond.

When they saw Ren walking out, they stopped in their tracks. She looked confused but didn't move away at first. The four boys reached out and each placed a hand on her stomach. "We've been waiting for you," they said in unison. Shigure felt as though the breath had been knocked right out of him. This child, his god, the one that had finally made his life make sense… he'd meet her soon. Touching Ren's stomach seemed to bring out even more emotion in all of them but Shigure was convinced that none of the others felt what he was feeling. It was surreal and overwhelming for them all, however.

With wide eyes, Ren finally backed away from them. She gasped and began to walk fast in the opposite direction. Their hands reached out once more as they watched her leave. Unbeknonst to them, they would not see her again that day or hardly ever over the next few months.

"What now?" Kureno asked, breaking the silence.

"We wait, I guess." The sadness that came along with the deep sense of longing could be heard in Shigure's voice.

"Do you think Ritsu had the dream?"

"Stop asking so many questions, Kureno." No one cares. Shigure couldn't help but feel some jealousy knowing that the others had shared the dream with him. He wanted the reality of the dream for himself and didn't want to share this feeling with anyone. Kureno's incessant talking was distracting him from getting lost in his thoughts. Shigure had never liked Kureno much. The rooster enjoyed following him around and tried too hard to be his friend and for whatever reason, that made Shigure dislike him even more.

"Maybe we should all go home." Hatori was, as always, the voice of reason. It was mid-March and there was still a chill in the air as spring moved in slowly. Being the only responsible one in the group, Hatori didn't want anyone getting sick.

They each went their separate ways but Shigure had no interest in going home. He knew his parents would likely ask where he had been and he didn't feel like explaining anything to them. Shigure took enjoyment in keeping them on their toes.

The boy found himself on the roof, looking up at the sky. Something about knowing that she now existed in the same world that he did made him want to cry once again but he held back his tears. Again, he found himself questioning how he could feel this strongly for someone he'd never met.

"Shigure, what are you doing up there?"

He looked down to see Hatori and chuckled softly. "I don't want to go home yet. Let me guess, you didn't want to go home either."

"It's not that. You were acting strange. I know that the dream… It was a lot for all of us. We've all acted a bit strange today but it's different for you, isn't it?"

A sigh escaped the other boy's lips as he searched for a way to answer his best friend's question. It was different but given that these were new feelings, Shigure wasn't confident enough to completely vocalize what he was feeling.

"I don't want it to end. I want it to last forever. I want to give it form and make it mine. I will."

There was silence between the two.

"We all feel strongly about-"

"It's not that. It's not just the strong emotion. It runs much deeper than that. This is the feeling I've been searching for my entire life and I never even knew such a feeling existed until today. I know it sounds… crazy but I won't question it. How does it feel for you?"

"Not how it feels for you, I guess. It's different. The animal spirits in us are overjoyed. I can sense that and yes, it does make me feel content as well but what you're saying… I couldn't say the same." Hatori was always so serious. In moments like this, Shigure appreciated it given that he knew he could never have a conversation like this with Ayame.

"You're right. The animal spirits are overjoyed which explains the tears. That girl though… there was something about her."

Hatori sighed. "Yes, Shigure. She's god. Did you miss the point of the dream?"

The confusion his friend had expressed was amusing to Shigure. "I'm not talking about god. I'm talking about the girl and what I feel. I don't know how to explain it. No words I've ever read in any of my books can help me put a name to this. I just don't want to ever stop feeling this way. I feel as if I were to go inside or see my parents, I'd forget this feeling. I know that's stupid because soon the dream will be real."

This was a lot to take in, even for a precocious boy like Hatori. He understood some of what Shigure was saying but most of it didn't make sense to him. It was as if Shigure was talking nonsense, which wasn't unusual. Still, Hatori had never seen his friend like this. It was almost unsettling.

"Shigure, I think you need to go home. Nothing will change. You know it's real. We have school tomorrow so you'll have to go home eventually. You probably have homework you haven't done."

Although Shigure had no desire to go home, Hatori was right. Nothing would change. She was real and he would cling to the feelings he'd felt that day for as long as he lived. Hatori was also right about him having homework that needed to be done.

The two said their goodbye and Shigure finally went home. The memory of this day would stay with him until the end of his days. He didn't know it yet but this would forever live on in his memory as the day he was made aware of the existence of the woman that would be his wife someday.

#akigure #akito sohma #shigure sohma #fruits basket

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sepublic · 1 year

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You know what? My recent post has actually got me thinking about writing a begrudgingly canon-compliant fic where Melding Teridax and the remaining Shadow Takanuvas kill each other, as a way to resolve both plot threads, with Mazeka acting as a third party. We’ll call it Photo Negative; Referring to an image where light and dark are reversed, just as these polarities have been flipped for what is a classic tale of Takanuva VS Makuta. Photo on its own literally means Light, Light Negative… It’s perfect.

It’s kind of a tale of Nature Vs Nurture; Particularly regarding the potential of the Makuta species, contrasted against the Toa, with Mazeka acting almost like a judge of sorts. In the peaceful days, he and his mentor researched into the origin of the Makuta and how Mata Nui made them, so they do have a bit of knowledge regarding their ‘nature’ so to speak…

The story begins with Mazeka and Teridax exploring the newly-restored Spherus Magna, which Teridax finds to be much more familiar to his own home; They even end up traveling the same route they did in the Melding universe. As Mazeka ponders how his universe turned out differently compared to Teridax’s, and what that means for the truth about this world and Mata Nui himself… Uh oh, more Shadow Takanuvas! Turns out there are still a few more, and these others had hung back to watch the first three act as guinea pigs, so they could figure out how this version of Teridax fights and thinks, clearly different in personality due to being of Light.

Well, they’ve gotten the hint, and Takanuva has always been a quick thinker, a fast learner, in any universe. They attack Teridax, having learned from the mistakes of the first three, and begin chipping him down. Each Takanuva has had experience fighting and defeating their own Teridax, but luckily Melding Teridax just had the experience of defeating three Takanuvas. However, they’ve responded to Melding Teridax’s different approach, so experience seems even.

Luckily, Teridax has the power of Light, the ultimate counter to the Takanuvas’ Shadow; That balances things out and enabled him to kill the first three. But with their greater numbers, he might not make it out of here… But he fights anyway, using the full range of his other powers to survive and protect Mazeka at the same time; He might be willing to kill evil, but he isn’t going to sacrifice innocents to do so.

Mazeka finds this very surreal, because it’s Teridax he’s talking about; This is the man who betrayed the Great Spirit, and all of his brothers. This is the Makuta who became the Great Spirit himself… Except not exactly, because this Teridax never did any of that, and conquered his inner darkness long ago. He reflects on his mentor’s research into the Makuta species, ideas about them originating from Antidermis, and not being inherently beings of Shadow, not necessarily; The idea of a Makuta made of Antidermis, but not programmed with Shadow, was fully feasible.

And Teridax and his brethren in the Melding universe prove just that, so hey. Maybe the Makuta aren’t inherently evil, maybe it is just the result of Shadow’s influence… It’s clearly twisted a heroic Toa like Takanuva after all, and Mazeka has his critiques about holding Toa on a pedestal. Working for Helryx did not help those opinions, either. Though, Mazeka realizes he is partly to blame for the Takanuva situation; He didn’t save –or at least kill- them while they were in stasis when he had the chance, leaving them all to destiny… and destiny has responded.

We also get a glimpse into the mind of Teridax, who is a bit rattled to see exactly what he could and did do, in a world where he didn’t conquer his inner darkness. Luckily, that version of himself has already been dealt with, but still… Meanwhile, we see the perspective of another Takanuva, who reflects on his past as he continues to carefully observe and strike, every now and then.

We get the usual; He knows how to defeat Teridax. But he also recalls being kidnapped by Tridax, corrupted and drained of his light. What are his motives now? Believe it or not, he still cares for Jaller, Hahli, and the others… And plans to get them on his side by using a Shadow Leech to ‘free’ and persuade them. Tridax still had a few left over in his lab from Destral…

Similarly, Takanuva does consider if it’s really himself that’s making these choices, or if he’s just a puppet of Shadow’s influence; After all, look how Teridax has changed without it! And his pride objects to being a lackey, but on the other hand… Well, he remembers how he and the surviving Takanuvas woke up, freed other survivors in stasis. They planned to go out and claim this universe for themselves, but then this timeline’s Teridax had other plans.

Destral was always an extraneous part of the Great Spirit’s body, that’s why it could get away with teleporting. And with it already in ruins, this Teridax had no qualms with destroying it… He showed off his power, boiling the ocean around Destral, even as he cast powerful bolts of lightning and other devastating effects. Many of the Takanuvas were killed as they held out, until finally the rest agreed to serve Teridax.

That was humiliating, but getting to kill another Teridax as one of their first missions sort of made up for it, gave him a punching bag, technically the same person, to take revenge on. It was weird, and anyhow the Teridax who enslaved them had just died, so now there was this one left. And as someone who did wield Light, he was a legitimate threat to the Shadow Takanuvas, and was better taken out sooner than later…

Remember what I said, about the Takanuvas having retrieved a few Shadow Leeches from Tridax’s lab? Well, I’m thinking this really comes back to bite Melding Teridax; One of the Takanuvas opens up a Tridax pod, unleashing some Shadow Leeches. At least one latches onto Teridax, draining him of his light, and Mazeka is understandably terrified.

There’s two scenarios; Without his advantage of Light, Melding Teridax is finished off by the Takanuvas. OR… He manages to win anyway. But now full of Shadow, this makes him more or less the same as the Teridax who just died, in terms of personality, morality, etc. So just after prime Teridax was finished, a basically identical replica, an equal in terms of power and cunning, has risen up to take his place… Oh no.

Suddenly this side adventure brings enormous stakes, the return of Bionicle’s ultimate villain just after he’d died, and this time nobody knows nor expects it. Melding Teridax feels his inner darkness return and is reminded, feels inspired to follow in his alternate self’s foot steps; If prime Teridax can pull it off, clearly he can, having learned from the mistakes of his other self, just as these Takanuvas did the same for their predecessors.

I’m not entirely sure what happens with this bit; Does Teridax avoid being fully transformed, and ends up a Twilight Teridax, just as we had a Twilight Takanuva? I think that’s a nice compromise. Teridax kills the Shadow Leeches, much to the Takanuvas’ rage, and by this point he’s killed off all but one (It’s left ambiguous if this is the same one we saw the perspective of; They’re all Takanuva, so wouldn’t they think the same anyhow?). His Light has been diminished, he’s been whittled down by the other Takanuvas, AND he’s grappling with conflicting feelings as he tries to quell his inner darkness once more.

Melding Teridax falls back on a reminder; He’s beaten ‘himself’ before, in a sense. He can do it again, relying on the same training from before to conquer this inner darkness and bring Light. But right now… He has to defeat this final Takanuva. Mazeka meanwhile considers rescinding his improved opinion on the Makuta, as seeing Teridax struggle with his darkness makes him wonder if it really is inevitable for them to fall to evil, no matter how much progress they might initially make.

The battle goes on, Takanuva jokes about there being no energized protodermis to play kolhii with, which obviously confuses Teridax and Mazeka, the latter doesn’t know all the details of the fight in Mangaia. Of course, Takanuva adds, that’s probably a good thing since he doesn’t want end up fused with this guy again.

Even if there’s no kolhii, we still have a distorted, flipped version of Mask of Light’s climax; Takanuva and Makuta fighting, a rebuilt Matoran on the side, watching. In a dark, or bright, twist on old events, Teridax says something that sets off Takanuva, causing him to jump out and land a brutal attack that knocks Teridax down.

With Teridax seemingly defeated, Takanuva turns his attention to Mazeka, easily taking him down; A wounded Toa will always triumph over an upgraded Matoran, much to Mazeka’s helpless chagrin. But as some defiant last words, he reminds Takanuva of why he chose Teridax from the Melding universe, over anyone else;

His logic was simple. What could defeat Teridax? Well, how about another Teridax? And obviously this universe’s Teridax responded to that same question, with Takanuva as his answer; Someone who already DID beat Teridax. But then, that leaves just one more question… What could defeat a Takanuva? And Mazeka’s answers is the same as his last one, another one.

There’s still one more Takanuva in this universe, the original who actually belongs here. And he’s a Toa of Light… If these Takanuvas were to fight, they’d be evenly matched, being the exact same in terms of skill and cleverness. But Mazeka’s Takanuva has the power of Light, and that will always triumph over this Shadow Takanuva; The Shadow Takanuva is doomed to fail.

At this point, Shadow Takanuva laughs, and explains that while on Destral, huddled together with his other selves in shelter against prime Teridax’s onslaught… They traded stories. Each Takanuva had something about their timeline, their version of the story, that was different or slightly diverged from the rest; Little details as which type of Rahkshi that Makuta used to stop the herald, whether it was Jaller or Hahli who went with them, that sort of thing.

So what’s this Takanuva’s difference? He explains that in the end, he’s figured out his timeline was the exact same as this one’s… With the only difference being that it ran ahead of the prime universe. So events that had already happened in this Takanuva’s universe, have yet to happen in the prime timeline; Meaning he’s basically from the future.

That means he knows everything prime Takanuva is going to do, everything that everyone else will do, and all the mistakes they’ll make. And armed with this knowledge, Shadow Takanuva can easily take control of this universe, and make it his own. Mazeka is naturally aghast at this, and as Takanuva moves in to finish him off…

Wait! Teridax isn’t down just yet. As a distorted reflection of Mask of Light’s climax, he rises once more, not as a stubborn nightmare that won’t end, but as an example of heroic valor. Teridax reminds Takanuva, having overheard, that they’re both outliers to this universe; So Shadow Takanuva’s knowledge of the future can’t account for either of them. This much was clear, as it didn’t do anything to help Shadow Takanuva when fighting Melding Teridax.

It didn’t help earlier in the battle, and it won’t help now; Teridax is someone Takanuva can’t predict. Both of them badly wounded, they rush each other, and end up finishing the other off, a mutual defeat that Mazeka can only watch; Just like in Mask of Light. The two succumb to their injuries, having their own brief moments of reflection in their final moments. Teridax ended up saving this universe from himself and Takanuva by getting them both killed.

Mazeka is left alone, and also has to reflect on everything that happened. His stance on the Makuta has changed again; Maybe Teridax would’ve succumbed eventually had he not died, but it seems he still put in the effort to conquer his inner darkness, all over again. Make the Makuta aren’t inherently cursed, maybe the Antidermis is capable of good… And what happened to the original source, anyhow? Maybe Mazeka should go off and find it, vouch for a restoration of the Makuta species, based on everything he’s seen. They can conquer their nature, and maybe it isn’t anymore immune to corruption than that of the Toa’s.

Mazeka notes how Takanuva and Makuta fought and defeated each other, all over again. But things were switched, light and shadow, good and evil; It was Makuta who truly won this time, for example. Likewise, the Great Spirit has fallen in a Great Cataclysm, all over again… But as Makuta, rather than Mata Nui.

Mazeka knows that his Teridax survived against Takanuva, barely. Maybe Melding Teridax did too, a reverse of familiar events? But no, Melding Teridax would not hide his survival from Mazeka, he truly is dead. With Vultraz and his own Teridax dealt with, Mazeka decides to honor his friend’s sacrifice by helping redeem the Makuta species in his universe, and restore the Brotherhood with his knowledge on how they were made. He sets out to regroup with the Order of Mata Nui, and find the source of Antidermis.

I might have an epilogue where Mazeka comes across fellow Order member Brutaka, possessed by the Antidermis. And the Antidermis is still loyal to Mata Nui, so with this and his own experiences in mind, that will just further cement Mazeka’s support for a new Brotherhood, with Miserix being given a chance at redemption; After all, so was Brutaka. And as someone who also escaped the darkness, who saw firsthand in his mind the Antidermis’ intent… Brutaka also agrees. And he can’t help but be intrigued when Mazeka relays what he saw of Melding Teridax and his redemption.

After all, Brutaka’s redemption was motivated in part by seeing just how much worse, how much more evil this universe’s Teridax was. So it makes him wonder if even prime Teridax could’ve changed for the better, or if he’d done too much by that point that it had been too late for him, unlike Melding Teridax. Who knows…? He’s also familiar with the story of an Olmak causing shenanigans with Takanuva and alternate timelines, but not the way Mazeka had his…! He also asks what happened to the other Olmak, and Mazeka suddenly realizes he has no idea, since the Shadow Takanuvas didn’t have it… And if neither Mazeka nor Tobduk took it, then that leaves-

Suddenly Mazeka wonders if he made a mistake sparing Vezon, after all. Whoops. Little does he know, allowing Vezon to live allowed Vezon to take the Olmak and accidentally use it to transport Mazeka to the Melding universe... Meaning if he never spared Vezon, Melding Teridax wouldn’t have been there to stop the Shadow Takanuvas. So, maybe not a mistake...

#bionicle #mazeka #teridax #melding teridax #shadow takanuva #takanuva #makuta #takua

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