#i have too many thoughts and i'm one chapter in

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (27)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: fingering, masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk, kissing without consent, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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When her uncle decided that they would spend the night in Dragonstone for a moment she thought she had overheard herself − she was unable to contain her delight and outburst of joy at his words, feeling that he had somehow rewarded her for her efforts.

Or at least she thought he had.

His sudden change of plans was unlike him, and she was aware of that, knowing his nature.

He detested deviating from the plans he had previously made for himself.

However, she recognised that perhaps he wanted to show her and her family his sincere intentions, to prove that she was not just a prisoner in his eyes and that he, as her husband, could also sleep under their roof without being one.

She wasn't sure if she had ever been as happy in her life as she had been the moment she flew through the sky next to Vhagar, Caraxes and Syrax; her heart was filled with heat and hope, her uncle's words echoing in her mind like a sweet whisper.

I am proud of you.

Those words meant more to her than any of his other confessions.

Of course, his confession of love was a wonderful thing, but she had always been waiting for him to appreciate her as a person, not just a woman he saw by his side.

With this, she finally felt equal to him.

Her optimism extinguished as quickly as it had appeared as soon as she crossed the walls of the family fortress. Although her heart screamed with joy at the sight of familiar rooms, smells and sights, the faces of her brothers left her with no illusions.

She swallowed loudly as she saw the hateful look on Jace's face; she knew him and she knew that he was hurt.

He was disappointed and heartbroken, he felt humiliated and, deep down, betrayed by her, even though she never meant it.

Luke clearly didn't know what he felt himself, because he just lowered his head, unable to look into her eyes.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, a discomfort in her stomach that told her that perhaps this wasn't her home at all anymore.

She was no longer welcome here.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Rhaena − her step-sister was the first to approach her, warmth and longing in her gaze, some kind of understanding from which she felt tears under her eyelids. They hugged each other tightly, though they had never done so before − her words made her feel a tightening in her stomach.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice, and she smiled involuntarily at her words.

"Me too."

As Baela approached them, also enclosing her in the tight embrace of her arms, she thought with a shrug that even though she hadn't let them into the depths of her heart for so many years, they truly cared and worried about her.

At the very end Joffrey ran up to her, sobbing loudly.

"− why have you been so long in King's Landing? − why did you leave us? − Jace wouldn't read me my favourite book −" He mumbled cuddled into her belly, her hands combing through his dark curls with the calm motion of her fingers.

"− forgive me − I'm here −" She said softly, looking at her older brother and swallowed hard, seeing the murderous glances they exchanged over the table with her husband.

She looked at her mother, who nodded, understanding what she wanted to convey to her.

"You are certainly exhausted. Take up your old quarters, daughter, I will immediately command them to be brought to order and prepared for you." Rheanyra said calmly, and she bowed before her.

"Thank you, my Queen." She said softly, looking into her eyes. Her mother swallowed hard and nodded, allowing them to leave.

As they stepped inside her chamber, she felt a squeeze in her heart and some kind of elation; all her belongings were in their places exactly as she had left them, as if no one had been allowed in here since she had been forcibly held in the Red Keep.

She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when her uncle moved ahead of her, strolling around the room with his hands folded behind his back, intrigued.

It seemed to her that some part of him wanted to understand what her life had been like and who she had been for the eight years during which they had been separated.

She saw him walk over to her old oak desk and run his fingers over its top, thoughtful.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually.

She felt heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that he meant the place where she had written letters to him.

"− yes −"

She swallowed quietly as he hummed at her words, watching as he sat in the chair where she sat many times leaning over the parchment, scribbling words on it meant only for his eyes. He tapped his finger on the armrest, turning to face her in profile as he gazed out of the window, apparently absorbed in memories.

She thought that although her return home had proved more uncomfortable than she had thought, she was grateful to him.

Whatever decision he had made that morning had led them here and was proof of his intentions.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said quietly, smiling at him, wanting him to know she wouldn't force him to sit at the same table with her family.

She thought she would spend the evening with him, give him the feeling that she was not speaking with anyone behind his back, and perhaps in the morning, before they flew away, she would ask him so that she could speak to her mother at last in peace and solitude.

Comforted by this thought and the fact that it looked like all was not lost, she began to tell him about her life in Dragonstone, to show him the books she had written to him about in her letters, the places she had flown to on Larax.

It seemed to her that her husband was only partially listening to her; his gaze was thoughtful, his face expressed weariness and discouragement. She knew that something was making him uncomfortable and she suspected that it was about the place they were in; however, she did not know how to help him, to give him the feeling that neither he nor she was in danger here.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −" She finally made an attempt to find out what had been on his mind since the morning. He shuddered at her words and looked at her with a horror as if he was about to faint.

"I'm tired." He replied quickly, without thinking, as if he wanted to answer her anything just to end the subject. She sighed quietly, recognising that she couldn't push him too hard.

Not after what they had managed to accomplish.

"Let's go to bed."

She felt a squeeze in her throat as, already lying on the bedding, she watched as he took out his dagger and tucked it under his pillow; she looked at him and met his calm, impassive gaze.

She decided not to say anything, understanding where his caution came from, not wanting to discourage or frustrate him.

She smiled involuntarily, content as his body clung to hers as soon as he lay at her side. She heard him murmur as she snuggled his face between her breasts, felt his arms embrace her waist and tighten around the material of her nightgown on her back.

She loved it when her mother sang lullabies to her when she was a child; it always calmed and soothed her. She had never dared to sing to him when they were children, fearing that her voice was too squeaky and unpleasant, but now she decided that maybe that was just what he needed.

So she sang, humming softly, once in a while placing a warm, lingering kiss on the top of his head − she felt his embrace slowly growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his breathing quiet and even.

She sighed quietly feeling him fall asleep.

Someone's jerking and growling roused her from a deep sleep; when she opened her eyes for a moment she didn't know where she was or what was happening.

She recognised her chamber but did not know what her uncle was doing in it, convinced that he still had not answered her letters, as he had not done so for eight years.

After a moment, however, her mind seemed to regain focus and she remembered that she was his wife after all, and that his silhouette lying beside her was not a figment of her imagination.

She raised herself up on her elbow seeing that his body convulsed once in a while, as if he was trying to break free of something, whimpers and grunts came out of his throat, however, his mouth did not open, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes one by one.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!" She called out, grabbing his arm, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She was frightened and jumped back as his eye opened suddenly, his figure rose to sit up, and he began to pant like a wild animal, quivering all over. She looked at him in disbelief, horrified to hear that he was struggling to catch his breath.

Was he having nightmares again?

Was he dreaming again of the night he lost his eye?

"− easy, my love − breathe −" She whispered tenderly, gently touching his back; he flinched all over and looked at her as if he didn't recognise her − his eye was wide open, his nostrils twitched in accelerated, heavy breaths.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled like a small, terrified child and fell into her arms, bursting into a sob so loud that the voice stuck in her throat.

She embraced him immediately, letting him find protection and comfort in her arms, stroking affectionately his hair and back, placing warm, soft kisses on the top of his head in an attempt to reassure him.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She mumbled, feeling that the fabric of her nightgown was all wet with his tears, his hot, broken breath enveloping her skin.

She felt like he wanted to melt into one with her, to hide deep inside her from whatever it was that scared him.

He was silent for a long moment, trying to calm himself; she hushed him tenderly, whispering that he was safe, that she was by his side, that all was well. She finally heard him swallow hard, his voice trembling and uncertain.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −" He muttered. She blinked, twisting comfortably in her seat, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

"− I'm listening to you, my love −" She whispered, stroking his hair. She released him from her arms when she felt him wanting to rise.

He sat on the bedding with his side facing her, running his shaking hand over his face, his healthy eye closed as if afraid of what was about to leave his mouth.

"− I − fuck −" He began, swallowing hard − her hand rose to his back, stroking it reassuringly.

"− easy − take your time − start from the beginning −" She encouraged him softly, not wanting him to fall silent again, seeing that he wanted to throw off whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since they had left Harrenhal.

"− you may remember − Lord Strong wanted to speak with me soon after we arrived in Harrenhal −" He said uncertainly, and she nodded, reminding herself that this was indeed what had happened.

"− yes −"

Her uncle swallowed hard, drawing in air loudly.

"− he told me at the time − that my grandfather had no intention of letting your mother and Daemon leave the Eyrie alive if it turned out they wouldn't accept our terms − but now I think they wouldn't have left alive anyway − Larys had his spies there −" He muttered and fell silent, freezing completely as she did, her heart beginning to pound like mad.

My grandfather had no intention of letting them leave the Eyrie alive.

"Will you be by my side even when all is lost? Even if there is nothing left but darkness? Is that what you had in mind then?" She mumbled out in pain, feeling that there was a complete void in her mind. "Will I be there for you even if your grandfather kills my mother?"

"− n-no −" He began quickly. "− will you be there for me even if I fail to prevent it knowing that I didn't tell you −"

She felt a constriction in her throat and lower abdomen, felt tears of disappointment and sadness flowing into her eyelids − now it was her body that trembled in convulsions, his gaze full of shame and horror directed at her.

She sucked his cock, she let him take her, and he knew that the next day her father and her mother could be murdered.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head and laughed low.

"− you will betray me − you will run away − those are your words, aren't they? − you were always the first to accuse me − was it because you were trying to cover up your own conscience? − you wanted me to let you down so that you wouldn't feel guilty about doing it over and over again? −" She asked with a cold mockery, from which he bowed his head in embarrassment, in a subconscious reflex he had inherited from his mother plucking the cuticles around his fingernails.

He did not answer.

"− what should I do now? − divorce you? − say I won't come back to King's Landing with you? − not speak to you for eight years? − tell me, uncle, what do you think you deserve? −" She asked dispassionately, feeling the tears of rage and grief one by one run down her cheeks.

She saw him tremble at her words and curl into himself, as if he were again the same little boy who had cried in her arms when his mother had reprimanded him for inappropriate behaviour.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as he hid his face in his hands and wept helplessly, as if his whole person, everything he had built around himself was just falling apart in front of her eyes, showing him his insides, what was left of him.

He was vulnerable.

"− fuck − I − I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd change your mind − that if you warned them they'd see it as a betrayal and wouldn't want to pact − that's why I didn't let any of us stay in the Eyrie − I −"

"− because my mother agreed − but what would you have done if things had turned out differently? −" She asked coldly, and he swallowed hard, covering his eyes with his hand, as if he could not bear what he felt or this conversation.

"− I don't know − I don't know how I could have protected both you and my family then − what decision of mine would have saved you from death −" He muttered and she pulled herself up from the bed, recognising that she didn't feel like listening to this, that she had had enough of him and his guilt when it was always him, him, him disappointing her.

From the first night she had returned to him, when he had closed her cheeks in the brutal grip of his fingers she had seen in his eye what had now become clear to her.

He was weak, and when he was afraid, he resorted to violence.

She heard him stand up behind her, panting heavily, wiping his tear-wet face with his hand.

"− no − don't leave − I told you because −"

"− because your conscience didn't give you peace − because you didn't want to carry your guilt alone −" She hissed, turning towards him with furrowed brows.

She felt that fury, not blood, was flowing through her veins now.

He swallowed loudly at her words, looking at her wide-eyed.

"− if you've never hidden anything from me − you've never concealed anything from me for fear that I might react impulsively, leave − but if you did, come back to bed − I won't touch you −"

She pressed her lips together in fury, recognising that he must have been mocking her, but then she felt an unpleasant sting in her heart that proved she had doubts.

She heard again the words of one of her servants in King's Landing whispering in her ear that when the time came, Prince Daemon would help her escape; she heard again the words of Alys speaking of the prophecy she had not shared with him for fear of his reaction.

Had she really never hidden anything from him?

Her whole body screamed for her to leave; she wanted to do it, but felt that if she did, she would be lying to herself and to him, creating an image in which she was without flaw.

She could say that she had the right to do it, that she had good intentions, but didn't her uncle think the same about his decisions?

She glared at him and let out a loud breath, returning to the bed without a word, sinking into the soft sheets, turning her face away from him. She heard him breathe heavily, and after a moment, the bed creaked under the weight of his body settling against her back.

"− tell me −" He whispered.

She sighed heavily and grunted, recognising that her faults were less than his anyway.

So why did she still feel shame and a squeeze in her gut?

"− after I tried to take my life I was told that my father could help me escape − don't ask how − I also didn't tell you about the prophecy I heard from Alys −"

"− that fucking witch is a liar −" He growled, and she let out a loud breath, impatient.

"− it is possible − but I also heard this prophecy from your sister's mouth − both of them spoke of two rivers of blood merging into one, taking the shape of a dragon's crowned head −" She choked out finally, her husband stirring beside her in his place, surprised.

"− what could this mean? −"

"− I don't know − I was afraid that when you heard it, you would want to give up on the negotiations and return to King's Landing − Alys warned me, so she probably knew what your grandfather was planning to do −" She said regretfully, thinking that strange woman was more concerned for her safety and her family than her husband.

She heard him swallow hard, letting the air out loudly.

"− forgive me −"

She lay in silence for some time, feeling anger that he expected her to simply forget everything, understand his reasons and forgive him as always.

No.

"− I will forgive you, but I have my conditions − we will stay here longer − for a week or two, I will decide in the morning −" She said coldly.

"− but − my mother will be convinced that they are holding us by force −" He began, but she would not let him finish.

"− you will write a letter to your brother informing him that my mother has accepted his terms, but is also setting her own − that we will stay here to discuss all the details, show our goodwill − if your mother wishes, she can travel here in her own person − you can leave Dragonstone when you wish, but I will stay here as long as I desire, and you will show no opposition −" She said impatiently, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her hands clenched into fists.

Her husband swallowed loudly at her words, tense.

"− I − very well −" He muttered finally, knowing that any other words would forever cross him out in her eyes.

She hummed under her breath, covering herself tightly with the bedding and closed her eyes, figuring she wouldn't turn towards him for the rest of the night.

"− don't try to take me or embrace me −" She commanded and he sighed quietly.

She swallowed hard when she felt him place his large hand on her head and begin to stroke her hair exactly as he had when they were children.

She felt furious that it was so pleasant, so soothing, that he knew she loved it.

"− my Rheanys −" He whispered tenderly. She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.

The next morning she was awakened by a rustling noise and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment; she lifted her sleepy eyelids and saw his silhouette sitting behind her desk, bent over a letter he had apparently just written.

She felt strange at the thought that he was sitting in the exact place where she had spent years writing him messages that had never received a response.

She knew, however, that she now had the upper hand over him and that her word was an order to him.

She was not going to imitate his cold nature and not speak to him − they had to maintain a semblance of at least a warm relationship so that the image of their marriage, on which the whole agreement between the two parties was supposed to be based, did not begin to crack.

He lifted his gaze to her when she stood up, but they did not exchange a word between each other.

He did not know what to say.

Her maidservant walked in at her summons and bowed before her, bending her head humbly.

"− my Lady, will you have your morning meal before your travel? − your mother would like to speak with you before you leave for King's Landing −"

"− we will have a meal, but convey to my mother that there is no rush − my husband and I have decided to stay here for a few weeks as an expression of our sincere intentions − my husband is in the process of conveying this message to his brother − my uncle is in need of new garments, provide them for him without delay and bring them to my chamber −" She said calmly; her servant blinked, shocked and nodded, immediately disappearing behind the door.

Despite what she had learned and the rage she felt, she was pleased − the roles had been reversed and although her husband was not her prisoner, he was attached to her and was forced to stay in a place that disgusted him.

Good, she thought.

She wanted him to feel what she had felt during the month she had spent in King's Landing, imprisoned by his mother and grandfather.

"− I wish to spend this afternoon with my mother − if you so desire, I can show you in which chamber the library is located −" She said lightly, without looking at him however, taking a bite of bread spread with confiture. Her husband rolled his eyes, displeased.

"I have no intention of leaving your quarters." He replied indifferently.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words.

"You are not my prisoner, uncle. You can walk and fly wherever you please. Holding someone by force is not in my nature." She murmured softly − her husband gave her one tired look.

She smiled at him in a way from which he swallowed hard and looked away, sighing heavily.

He knew she was enraged and he wasn't going to get in her way.

One of the aspects she enjoyed upon returning home was that she had finally retrieved all her robes; her uncle looked at her from the side, watching as her servants helped her put on a golden gown with long black sleeves that reached the ground.

"− make braids around my head − my husband adores it when I wear this hairstyle, is he not? −" She sneered, glancing at him over her shoulder. She only saw him roll his eyes, running his hand over his face, not saying a word.

He knew he had to endure everything she was throwing at him with humility if he didn't want to make his already bad situation worse.

She had no idea what he could do to regain her favour, her trust, the respect she had for him.

"− have a pleasant day, husband −" She threw over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the chamber, recognising that she did not care what he did.

As she stepped into her mother's quarters, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, putting down the quill she held in her hand, approaching her with surprise and uncertainty written on her face.

"− is it true? − are you planning to stay in Dragonstone? −" She asked in a trembling voice − she smiled and nodded. Her mother sighed in relief and walked over to her, embracing her tightly with her arms, snuggling her head into her neck.

They pulled away from each other after a moment, her hands gripping her cheeks, her thumbs stroking her skin as if she remembered a time when she was still a small child.

"− let's sit down −"

Being in her chamber again was like a dream to her − she couldn't believe she was sitting at the same table again, surrounded by the same furniture and bed with a red curtain, with the windows open to a view of the great sea.

"− does he treat you well? −" She asked suddenly, taking her hand in her own.

Her mother's question surprised her, but it also filled her heart with warmth and emotion.

"− I − yes − despite his harsh, difficult nature −"

"− so how did he let this happen? −" She asked, exposing a part of her wrist with her thumb, where her pale scar was clearly visible. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer her.

She wanted to tell her about the moon tea, but hesitated.

She didn't want her to think that her husband knew about it, that he was a worse person than she assumed.

It devastated her to think that she still had to tell half-truths.

"− I did it as an act of desperation − when he found out he wouldn't leave my side for weeks − he wouldn't let anyone but himself, Helaena and the maester cross the threshold of my quarters − he let me see Luke −" She muttered, looking at her at last. Her mother lowered her gaze, sighing quietly, tired and pale.

"− when Daemon passed on your words to me, I was furious − I didn't understand how you could do this to me −" She began and fell silent, closing her eyelids for a moment.

She felt an all-consuming shame at the thought that she had failed and disappointed her as a daughter.

"− forgive me − I would never question your rights if it were only about you − but you know very well that it is not −" She said cautiously − her mother lifted her gaze to her and nodded.

"− I know −"

They fell silent for a moment.

"− can I trust him? − your husband − and my brother −" Her mother asked coldly; she raised her gaze to her, surprised to feel that her lips involuntarily parted.

I don't know.

"− yes −" She muttered. "− he refused Maris Baratheon to take her as his wife − he himself proposed a form of compromise, and his elder brother supported him − Aegon is not a good man, but he cares about his children − he knows he will not leave them a secure, safe throne − just as you would not leave it to your sons −"

They said no more.

She spent some more time with her, just holding her hand, wordlessly trying to comfort her, thinking with weariness that she had to give up everything that was rightfully hers.

She finally decided to take pity on her husband and return to her chamber, not wanting to leave him alone for so long in a state of anxiety and uncertainty.

She felt her heart stop as she stepped into her quarters and saw no one inside − a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him leaving her.

He had returned to King's Landing without her.

She pressed her lips together, involuntarily feeling her heart begin to pound like mad with pain and sadness, her eyes glazed over with tears that she was ashamed of, thinking it shouldn't hurt so much, and yet it did.

She looked around the room quickly, looking for a letter or anything else that might say he had left her some word, but found nothing of the sort; she shuddered when she heard someone's dim voices in the distance and walked over to the window.

Her father and her uncle stood facing each other on the beach with their hands folded behind their backs, discussing something animatedly, a clear tension between them.

She felt regret towards herself, her body filled with an overwhelming relief that he had not left her, that he had not betrayed her again.

She thought the gods had been cruel, allowing her to love this man so deeply.

She blinked, startled, when she heard the door from her chamber open; she turned and saw the figure of her eldest brother, who only spoke up when they heard a loud clatter of wood behind them.

"− how could you do this? − choose him over us? −" He growled with regret, resentment and disappointment, his big brown eyes filled with anger and pain from which she felt a tightening in her throat. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"− we both know what the truth is − you can't rule with lies −" She replied, shrugging her shoulders; Jace moved towards her and she flinched all over, surprised at how pale he was, his lips tightened into a thin line − she had the impression he was trembling all over.

"− this was my inheritance − my throne − my crown − and you chose him, a man who did not write back to your letters for eight years, who humiliated you by calling you a bastard, and you shared a bed with him the first night you saw him, like some... −" He didn't finish and fell silent, the word he wanted to say stuck deep in his throat. She felt her lower lip tremble at his accusation, her eyebrows arching in pain and anger, her eyes red from tears of shame and humiliation.

"− say it − you've already spoken the word in your mind −" She sneered, lifting her chin higher, challenging him.

"− I won't call you an unworthy name −" He muttered lowly, and she laughed involuntarily at his words, shaking her head.

"− you think that makes you a better man? − look at this −" She hissed, lifting her hand up, exposing her wrist tugging impatiently at the material of her black sleeve. "− here is what I have done for you and for your crown − should I do it again? −"

She swallowed loudly, surprised when she noticed that something in her brother's expression had changed − Jace had grabbed her wrist and locked it between his fingers, but there was no aggression in the gesture, his thumb stroking her smooth, bare skin.

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing loudly; she felt that there was a kind of tension between them from which her heart was pounding like mad, but she wasn't sure what it was caused by; something in his gaze, in his brown, misty eyes and parted lips, made her feel hot.

"− do you love him more than our mother? − than Luke, than Joffrey? − than me? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she shook her head, not understanding what he meant.

"− Jace − it's a different kind of love − I −"

"− what kind? −" He hissed. "− the kind where you're constantly betrayed? − in which someone mocks your parentage? − locks you up like some prisoner? −"

Gods.

"− Jace −" She gasped, feeling that something in his questions, in his gaze, in what he wanted to hear from her had broken her down, her whole body began to quiver.

She shuddered as he approached her suddenly, as his free hand cupped her warm cheeks, as his forehead pressed against hers, his voice trembling as the words left his throat like a river.

"− I am your oldest brother − you were born to be mine − I would be good to you − you know I would −"

"− brother, what are you saying? − you had no objections when my mother decided to marry me to Ronnel −" She said disapprovingly, furrowing her brow in anger.

"− it was our mother's decision − how could I oppose her? −" He asked with a frown, as if he really believed what he was saying, a cold shiver ran through her body as his thumb ran over the soft skin of her cheek, hot with emotion.

"− you have never loved me − not in this way, we both know it well − you have always preferred to lie to yourself rather than face the truth − you do not look at me as the woman you desire, but as an inheritance that was taken from you −" She said with pain, feeling that what he was saying was not due to any deep feeling he had for her, but to his anger that she was not waiting for him docilely like his throne and his crown.

Her brother swallowed hard at her words, his hot, ragged breath enveloping the skin of her face.

"− when you were born, our mother told me that you might be my future wife − and I always, always saw you this way −"

"− you mocked me with Aegon −"

"− I craved his attention − he was older and impressed me − didn't you do anything you regretted as a child? −" He muttered wearily; she felt her heart stop at his words, a drop of cold sweat run down the back of her neck.

What was she supposed to answer him?

"− brother − I am married to another man − of my own free will −"

"− you are a traitor −"

"− how dare you −"

"− you are a traitor, but I still am unable to hate you −"

A squeal of terror stuck in her throat, her body froze completely as his lips pressed against hers in a greedy, hot, sticky kiss, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, refusing to let her move away.

She cried out and pushed him away − before he could make any move her hand slapped him in the face so hard that he took a few steps back, clutching his red cheek, panting heavily.

"− get out −" She muttered, placing her hand over her heart, feeling as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "− get out of my chamber, brother − I'll forget this...conversation ever took place −"

Jace swallowed hard, horrified and ashamed, as if it had only now occurred to him what he had actually done.

What would Baela say if she saw this?

It seemed to him that they both couldn't believe he had done it − Jace had turned and walked out, leaving behind an open door and a complete blank in her mind.

She thought he wanted to take it out on their uncle, to take away something that belonged to him.

That she was just an object for him on which he had decided to vent.

She thought with pain that he, unlike her husband, had never tried to truly understand her.

When her uncle returned to her chamber they did not exchange a word − he seemed distracted and frustrated to her. He took one of the books from the bookshelf and sat by the fireplace, pretending to read. She lowered her gaze, playing with her fingers, thinking only of the fact that if she hid it from him, she would be just like him.

She didn't know for a long time how she should put it into words, but she figured he'd be furious either way.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −" She muttered, glancing at him fearfully − his eye opened wide, looking at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched in such a way that a shudder went through her.

He was silent for a moment, as if he had run out of words, which frightened her even more.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, closing the book with a loud slam, pulling himself up from his seat like an enraged bear.

"− he kissed me − grief and humiliation took his mind away − I − wait − gods −" She muttered, standing up as soon as he headed towards the door, which he opened with a loud clatter, running out into the corridor after him.

"− Aemond − no, no, no − stop! −" She hissed, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away from her, opening door after door until he found himself in the right room − Jace and Beala were sitting together at a table, apparently discussing something.

Her older brother rose from his seat and turned pale at the sight of them, horrified.

Her husband walked into his quarters with a wide, menacing smile, exactly the same one he bestowed on him and Luke when they saw him duelling with Criston Cole in King's Landing. He put his hands behind his back, shifting his body weight to one leg, cocking his head.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −"

"− Aemond −" She said warningly, but her uncle didn't listen to her, his healthy eye wide open, as if he was just waiting for this.

An opportunity for confrontation.

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered amused, revealing his teeth in a wide grin full of feigned recognition.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela thundered.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she knew nothing.

She moved ahead and stood in front of her husband, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"− we are leaving −"

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −"

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He murmured in a voice filled with poison, from which a strong shiver ran along her back.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela hissed, furious that her betrothed simply looked at their uncle and remained silent, unable to get a word out.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He directed his words to her, to his sister, sadness and regret in his gaze, from which she involuntarily felt sympathy.

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" Her husband hissed, gripping her cheeks in his hand − her voice stuck in her throat as his fleshy lips clung to hers in an aggressive, loud kiss, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.

She sighed as he turned her back to him, pressing her brutally against his chest and grabbed her neck − she grasped his wrist as his free hand slid down her lower abdomen, his fingers dug into the material of her gown beneath which her womanhood lay, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out into her ear and she closed her eyes, feeling with horror and disbelief that her nipples had hardened, that her walls had clenched around nothing at his embarrassing words, feeling his finger tease what lay between her thighs despite her resistance.

"− u-uncle − stop −" She muttered, a moan stuck in her throat as she felt his erection behind her throb hard at her words, pushing against her buttocks, his fingertips dug deep into her folds hidden beneath the fabric.

Gods, he wanted her brother to watch this.

Baela looked at Jace as if she suddenly understood everything, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"− what did you do? −" She asked quietly, her older brother shook his head, all red, turning his face away, unable to look at it.

"− I −" He didn't finish; her uncle let her go immediately, panting loudly as she did when Daemon walked into the chamber, looking at them, then at Jace and his daughter.

He grinned.

"− what is the meaning of this...commotion? − hm? −" He asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement and mockery; she looked away and glanced at her uncle, shaking her head with furrowed brows, letting him know that he was to remain silent.

Her husband pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not utter a word.

They stood in awkward silence, with only the quiet fizzle of the blazing fire in the fireplace around them.

"Mmm." Her husband hummed and turned away, heading for the door. Not knowing what to do, she simply moved after him, casting only one apologetic glance at Baela.

When they finally returned to her chamber she let out a loud breath.

"− what was that supposed to mean? −" She asked in frustration, wondering what had possessed him.

She tried not to think about how embarrassingly wet she was now.

"− I don't know what you're referring to, wife − I've merely shown my nephew the depth of my understanding as to his desire −" He grinned, grabbing a jug full of wine, pouring himself a full cup of it.

She licked her lower lip in impatience, standing still and watching him − their gazes met as he raised the goblet to his lips and took a deep sip from it.

"− what − are you wet now? −" He sneered and she felt a hot wave of shame surge through her body − she felt like her cheeks had turned scarlet.

"− don't mock me − this was humiliating −" She growled, furrowing her brow, a smirk on his face that she didn't like.

"− if you say so, wife −" He muttered, approaching her lazily, playing with his cup in his hand, raising it to his lips again "− I, however, think you'd rather I did something else −"

He said and took another sip of wine, swallowing it loudly, towering over her with a look from which a pleasant shiver ran through her core.

"− I think you'd rather I fucked you good in front of him − for me to slip my fingers under your skirt and sink them into your leaking cunt −" He murmured, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, her walls swelling all over at his words − she felt a drop of her own wetness run down her thigh.

"− am I wrong? −" He asked, cocking his head curiously, taking another sip of wine from his goblet without taking his eyes off her.

She drew in a loud breath as he set his cup down on the table standing beside them with a loud clang of steel, taking a step towards her, his lips parted in desire.

Gods, no.

"− don't touch me −"

She saw him squint his eyes as he hesitated, his nostrils flaring in accelerated breath.

She knew he was hard.

She knew he wanted to soften her up.

"Mmm."

She immediately summoned her servant wishing that she would help her pull off her gown and let her hair down. After this, she lay down in bed, covering herself with thick furs, not looking at him or speaking a word to him. She swallowed hard when she heard him lie down right next to her and closed her eyelids when she felt his hot breath on her neck.

She thought he would try to touch her, embrace her and give her a reason to push him away, but he just lay behind her back, driving her crazy.

She waited for some time, listening to his quiet breathing, and decided that he was surely asleep by now; her hand slipped silently into the material of her nightgown, lifting it up. She swallowed quietly, tightening her lips as her fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood begging to be fulfilled, teasing and squeezing the bud between its fleshy folds.

She felt herself grow hot, her heart began to pound like mad at the indecent idea that these was his hand touching her in front of Jace, making him watch, wanting him to see what her fulfilment looked like.

She felt her walls clench greedily around nothing at the thought, her fingers teasing the spot between her puffy folds with circular, intense strokes.

Involuntarily, her hips began to rock softly to the rhythm of the flicks of her own fingers, she felt that she was wonderfully close to fulfilment.

"− what are you doing? −" She heard his low, cool voice and froze completely. She swallowed hard, sliding her hand, sticky with her own moisture from between her thighs, and remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"− go on −" He said in a hoarse, deep voice from which a shiver went down her spine. She heard a rustling behind her and then the sticky sound of skin slapping against skin − his hot breathing quickened, heavy and ragged. "− come on −"

She couldn't help herself; his fingers dug into her swollen folds again causing a wave of heat to pass through her body − she felt pleasant tickling sensations in her lips, fingertips and nipples. She moaned quietly when she felt his nose pressed against her hair, her hips involuntarily began to rock when she heard him begin to pant, the splats behind her getting louder, louder and louder.

"− fuck − you know I'd lick you good there − hm? −" He sighed and she felt her whole body quiver, her fingers teasing her puffy pearl all sticky from her own wetness.

"− mhgm −" She whined, tilting her head back, feeling his hot, uneven breath on her ear, his swollen, wet lips run down her neck.

"− are you leaking? − are you leaking at the thought of how good I would make you feel? − at the thought of your brother watching me fuck his little sister? −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly as she felt a wonderful, relieved sensation at his words, her fulfilment shaking her like a hot, tickling wave.

Her slit pulsed all under her fingers as her own moisture leaked out of her, she shuddered when she felt his warm, rough tongue run across the bare skin of her neck, leaving a slick, wet mark on it.

"− fuck, Rheanys −" He muttered and after a moment he gasped − she felt something sticky and warm spurt out onto the back of her nightgown.

His seed.

Gods.

She closed her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing, furious at herself and her weakness.

"− let me embrace you −"

"− no −"

She heard him huff, sighing heavily, his face still sunk into her neck.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, thinking with frustration that she hated him with all her heart.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond fanfic #canon aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond #hotd fanfic #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x female #aemond hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fandom #hotd fic #hotd fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond x niece

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But now, it might as well be a dream come true.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707

Chapter 31

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“I… I feel like I need to push,” you grunted out.

Your doctor ran to your bedside.  “Okay, dear, okay, follow my lead, alright?”  She assisted in turning you on your side, adjusting your various tubes to better accommodate your position.  “Like we discussed, okay?  This position will help reduce the pressure on your pelvis and make it much easier to push.”

You nodded, your expression contorting in a grimace as a much stronger contraction ran through you in waves, lingering in your muscles like radiation. Your hands were curled up by your head, lacking anything to hold on to, so you resorted to fisting the white cotton sheets covering the mattress below you.  It felt mildly uncomfortable, but as soon as you were settled, you felt like your muscles were able to work much more effectively.  You breathed out a pained sigh, the pressure in your lower abdomen increasing in waves.

“You’re starting to crown already,” another nurse spoke up.  “Your body is already so primed for delivery!  It’s like you’ve been practicing.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume this was your third or fourth baby!”

“I’m going to hold your hand, alright?” your doctor asked, confirming with you on what would make you the most comfortable.  “How bad is your pain?  We can get you started on an epidural.”

“It’s…”  As soon as the contraction ceased, another one followed in its place.  You were outrageously close.  “It’s pretty bad,” you confirmed.

“I’m impressed, when I gave birth to my first, I almost passed out.  The pain was so bad!” one of the nurses at the other side of your room called out.  “You have quite the tolerance!”

You flashed a weak smile.  If only these nurses knew.

Your doctor rubbed your head reassuringly.  She really did feel like a mother in her own right.  “We’ll start that epidural.  Once that’s in place and you’re stable, we’ll begin pushing.  Can I get you anything?”

Your eyes wearily glanced up at her calm, reassuring face.  “I know it’s a long shot but… can you call my husband?”

—

The second lung was almost fully detached.  Over halfway through the surgery now, it had been much faster and more successful than anyone thought it would be.  Alongside a few breaks that were taken by the staff to relieve themselves and stretch their backs, sterile orange juice breaks sipped through plastic straws, and brief physical therapy for the unconscious patient to make sure his blood continued to circulate properly and his skin wasn’t damaged, the operation was going very, very smoothly.

And thank goodness.  Law needed some good news right now.

Among the beeping sounds of the patient’s heart monitor, the wrrr of the bypass machine, and the soft chatter amongst the team as they worked, a new sound infiltrated the space.  In the farthest corner of the room, Law’s hospital pager went off.

“What was that?” one of the nurses asked.

“My pager,” Law responded.  His voice was laced with anxiety.  He was barely keeping it together, and who knows why his pager might have been going off in the middle of an operation.

The circulating nurse took it upon herself to snatch up the small device, pressing the response button.  The best, or arguably worst, thing about the pagers was how loud they were.  Everyone could hear the voice that came through the other end.

[Dr. Trafalgar Law?  Dr. Trafalgar?]  It was a woman’s voice.

“I’m listening,” he shouted back.  The nurse stepped slightly closer with the pager in her hand.

[This is Nurse Kaya from Labor & Delivery, your wife is crowning.  Just wanted to let you know.]

Spoken far too casually for the news that made Law’s stomach drop like a brick.  He was missing the birth.

“FUCK,” he suddenly shouted, his hands still carefully working at the lung’s connective tissue.  It was as if his body and his mind were on completely different wavelengths.  So much for operating room etiquette.  The air in the room had gone completely cold as nervous glances among the team were shared.

“Doctor, I’m not opposed to relieving you with another on-call surgeon.  I know this is a huge ordeal, but we’re almost done and… this is a special case,” one of the head nurses spoke up.

He was clearly deliberating heavily in his mind.  He wanted to run, carry himself as fast as his feet could handle, and get to your side.  He needed to be there with you.  He was missing the birth of his first child.  A lump developed in his throat.  The protective husband side of him had the stoic, focused surgeon side pinned against the wall with a knife to his throat.

“Get the on-call surgeon here immediately and have him gowned and sterilized,” he finally barked, passing his tools off to his assistant and stepping away from the body.  A few relieved gasps were shared amongst the team as the circulating nurse brought Law out from the theater and into the prep room where she assisted in frantically undressing him from his surgical scrubs and passing his phone and pager back into his possession.  His operating room attire was quickly disposed of in a biohazard waste bin while he quickly washed his hands in the nearby basin.

“Doctor, good luck,” she said with a smile, her eyes crinkling under her mask.

Law could only pass her a faint grin as he shrugged on his white coat, stuffed his phone in the pocket of his slacks, and sprinted out of the prep room.  On the way, the on-call surgeon passed by and planted a reassuring smack to Law’s shoulder before replacing him.

Law was breaking every hospital rule there was.  Sprinting through the hallway, his feet hammering against the tiled ground as he fought his way through the hospital’s expansive campus, past patient rooms, nurses’ stations, and waiting areas.  Why did L&D have to be so far away?!  His eyes followed the signs on the walls pointing him in the right direction, his muscle memory leading the way.  He scaled two flights of stairs two-at-a-time, the muscles in his legs screaming at him to stop.  He was almost positive he would tear a muscle with how fast he was running.  But that didn’t matter.

Finally, finally, he pushed through the doors into the maternity ward, flashing his badge frantically at the nurse behind the check-in desk.  He was panting, barely able to catch his breath, one of his hands shaking as it supported his weight against the desk.

“My… Trafalgar… where… shit…” he panted, beads of sweat pilling on his forehead below his ragged bangs.

“Down the hall, take a left, then a right,” the nurse instructed, her voice pleasantly calm.  She must have seen this a lot.

He barely uttered out a ‘thank you’ before he was off again, pounding down the tiled hallways past delivery and recovery rooms, past the expansive NICU and small groups of families and doctors.  He had tunnel vision.  He needed to get to you.

Take a left.

Then a right.

He almost sprinted past the door to the delivery room you were in, only backtracking when he caught the pained sound of your voice from within.  He flung the door open, nurses surrounding you jumping from shock at the sight.

“Dr. Trafalgar?!” one of them exclaimed, her eyes wide.

Law ignored her.

Your eyes went wide, your hand being held by the doctor who had admitted you.  Tears immediately brimmed in the corners of your vision as a pained smile broke out on your face.  Law took the spot of your doctor instantly, almost throwing himself at you as he littered your face with kisses, grasping your hand and holding in his pain as you squeezed harshly against his bones, the force of another contraction gripping your body.  You were laying on your side, one of your knees tucked upward toward your chest as far as you could manage to allow the baby more room to come out.  You had an epidural tube sticking out of your spine, your upper body barely covered by blankets and the open-back hospital gown to accommodate for the birth.

“You made it…” you wheezed, torn between the attention on your husband and the baby coming out of you.

“I couldn’t miss it… I couldn’t…” he wheezed.  He was still very winded, his lungs shuddering for breaths.  Any longer and he would’ve been the one needing a dual pulmonary transplant.

“Ready for another push?” shouted one of the nurses at your bedside above the noise.

You nodded, biting your lower lip.  Your face was glistening with sweat.  Your body tensed up, gripping Law’s hand like a lifeline as you pushed, a pained groan emanating from deep within your throat as your eyes pinched shut.

“How is she doing?” demanded Law, gazing at the doctor who took her spot at the end of your bed where your legs were parted.

“She’s doing great, both babies are in cephalic position, her blood pressure is good and her heart rate is even better, it’s unlikely she’ll need emergency intervention.  I’m incredibly pleased considering her medical history,” the older doctor explained.  “Come over here.”

Law gazed at you, a fond smile on your lips as you released his hand so he could join his extended colleague at the foot of your bed.

“Delivering on her side helps lessen the pressure on her body as well as the baby’s,” the woman explained.

Law’s breath caught in his throat.  Emerging from you was a head of fuzzy black hair, slicked with amniotic fluid.  One of the nurses called for another push, and your lower body tensed up, your muscles clenching as hard as they could while you pushed the baby out more.  Law quickly returned to your side, grasping your hand once more.

“Baby… how are you doing?” he asked, desperate for your personal opinion, his lungs finally settling as he took in your exhausted appearance.

You grimaced.  “The epidural has been helping, but it hurt like a bitch going in,” you groaned.  “I’ve been having contractions since 2 in the morning.  I just want them to be out already.”

“Once the head is delivered, the rest will be easy!” one of the nurses called, a bright smile on her face.

Law felt himself smile as well.  Being a delivery nurse must have been incredibly rewarding on the best days.  He glanced at the clock on the far wall.  It was almost 10 in the evening.  His heart panged in his chest.

“You’re doing amazing, baby, you’re amazing,” he whispered in your ear, planting another kiss against the soft, sweat-soaked skin of your forehead.

“One more push, dear!” the doctor called.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles contracting with all your might at the count of the nurses assisting you, your hand clamping down on Law’s.  He held in his grimace of pain, supporting you as best he could.  Some slight hand bruises were nothing compared to what you were experiencing.  How chivalrous of him.

A sudden rushing feeling emanated from your body, a wet sensation prickling your skin through the numbness of the epidural.  Your heart rate picked up, your eyes growing wide as you worriedly asked, “What was that?!”

“Your water broke, dear!  Everything’s alright!” a nurse responded.

You moaned in pain.  “It’s about damn time.”  Your grip on Law’s hand released slightly, and you watched as a small smile appeared on his lips.

With one more push, the pressure in your groin finally dissipated somewhat as a nurse pulled your first baby out of you.  With the collapse of the amniotic sacs, it was much easier to deliver the rest of its body, much to your relief.  As soon as the contractions stopped, however, they began again.

“Keep going, darling, just one more to go!” the doctor called.  “It’s right there!”

You barely had the energy to pick your head up to look, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as Law examined the nurses huddled around your baby at the foot of your bed.  It was placed in a small portable incubator, being hooked up to machines to assess its condition.  35 weeks was still pretty early, so it made sense.  Its umbilical cord was clamped about two minutes after emerging from your womb.  Law tried to keep his anxiety repressed as your body shuddered with another contraction.

“The second baby is always easier, darling, you’re already fully dilated from the first,” explained your doctor, giving a reassuring pat to your ankle.

“First baby’s stable!” called one of the nurses.  “It’s a girl!”

Law felt his chest clench at the news.  His eyes lit up as he gazed at you, a smile pulling on his lips.  A weary smile formed on your own face as you were instructed to push once again.  Much to the room’s relief, the second baby did indeed come out much quicker than the first.  The loss of the amniotic fluid from your uterus and the stretching that your pelvis had endured with the first made it worlds easier for your second baby to emerge into the world.  The process repeated- a quick cleaning, a clamp after two minutes, and a quick check of vital signs.

“Another girl!” one of the nurses called, assessing the second in another small incubator.  “Also stable!”

You were helped onto your back in somewhat of a hurry, the two boxes containing your babies pushed toward your bedside where they were quickly gathered in bundles of blankets and placed on your chest.  It was all happening so fast, the world was practically blurring around you.  As soon as your babies touched your skin, it was as if a deep-rooted instinct emerged from you.  Law watched with pride as you nestled your newborns into your chest, your gentle hands holding their backs as they took in their first breaths as living humans.

Holy shit.

The room had quickly gone quiet around the four of you, a few of the nurses cleaning you up and reviewing your condition while additional nurses left the room to prepare suitable beds in the NICU for your newborns.  Even though they were both healthy and stable, they needed some extra time to grow.

“Law…?” you asked weakly, turning your head to look at your husband.

Law’s golden eyes were wide, frozen, large, salty tears streaming silently down his cheeks.  His chin was quivering as he gazed over you.  His three girls.

His girls.  He had two daughters.

Your husband huffed out a laugh that sounded more like a weary sob as he moved closer to you, stroking your head with his hand as he gazed warmly over the two tiny bodies on your chest, making their first contact with their mother.  He wiped his eyes clumsily with the sleeve of his white coat, inhaling a gross-sounding sniffle through his nose.

“I’m sorry I’m crying…” he blubbered.

“Don’t be…” you replied, your own tears welling in your eyes.  “You’re finally a daddy.  I’m happy you’re crying.”  You quietly laughed as Law reached forward with his hand, wiping your tears away from your cheeks, followed by another tender kiss against your jaw.

A nurse quickly stopped by your bedside, slipping small white cotton hats onto the tiny noggins of your daughters before leaving the four of you alone for a few more moments.  The skin-to-skin time was crucial for their attachment to you, and once that was established, they’d be able to go into the NICU for their extra care.

Both of the girls, despite being only around 35 weeks, had near-full heads of hair.  It made you wonder what they would have looked like being born at full-term.  The one over your left breast had tiny black curls that still stuck to her head.  The one over your right breast had thinner, straighter wisps of a lighter brown color.  They’d come into their own in a few more months as they grew, but even just from first looks, they were both clearly their father’s daughters.

—

The minutes following the birth were quite nasty if one were to ask you.  Law thought they were an interesting few moments, but you weren’t listening to him.  He was biased.  And frankly, you hated the way it felt when two placentas ejected themselves from your body.  It was like having another two babies but slimier and worse.

Your epidural was removed and you were cleaned up and helped into a cotton gown to rest in.  Your legs were weak from your long labor, but you were rewarded with some light food that didn’t taste like hospital sludge.  The third best piece of news you received was that, by some miracle, you didn’t tear a bit, and your uterus had completely and successfully done its job.

Finally.

You passed out very soon after your placentas were delivered, exhausted and completely spent after delivering two babies.

Law took the opportunity to retreat to the NICU and oversee his daughters as they were hooked up to breathing tubes and heart monitors to ensure that their good conditions remained that way.  They had their hand prints and foot prints taken by gentle nurses who were cooing over how cute they were, a sight that brought a smile to Law’s eyes.

“Dr. Trafalgar,” the voice of the doctor who oversaw your delivery shook him from his blissful state.  “Congratulations.”

“Dr. Linlin,” he replied as he turned to face her, shaking her hand.  “It’s good to see you.  Thank you for everything.”

“No need to thank me, dear,” she hummed.  “I’m a veteran of the motherhood game.  It’s all in a day’s work for me.  I’m so glad to see you happy and healthy, and with a wife even.  I remember the first day I met you, that skinny, scared looking post-grad doctor forced to speak in front of a huge crowd.”

Law groaned, rolling his eyes as the memory.  “One of the worst days of my life, for sure.”

The woman laughed, a hearty, bouncy chuckle.  She hadn’t changed a bit in the 20-some-odd years, probably even longer, that she had been a doctor.  “But look at you now.  A huge, monumental surgery, and now twins.  All in one day.”

“I’m going to sleep for centuries after all of this settles,” he added with a small smirk.  “After helping my wife, obviously.”

Dr. Linlin gave Law a hearty smack on his back, right in between his shoulders, making him lurch forward slightly.  “Your daughters will stay in the NICU for 24 hours for observation, and then they’ll be transferred to stay with the two of you in postpartum.  Let me know if you need anything, alright?  In a few hours, I’ll be back in your room to help you two sign the birth certificates.”

Law watched as the woman walked down the hall, her own bright pink doctor’s coat trailing behind her.  One of the only things Law knew about Linlin was the amount of kids she had.  It seemed like she popped out one every year, and yet she still had the time to be a labor and delivery doctor.  He shook his head, trying to ignore the logistics of it, before walking back to the postpartum room you had been transferred to.

You were awake and staring at the ceiling above you, your hands clasped around your belly.  You were still quite swollen, having been told that it would take a bit for your stomach to return to its pre-pregnant state, but you were already trying to come to terms with the fact that you would most likely never look exactly the same ever again.  Not after carrying and shoving out two humans.  When Law entered your quiet room, you smiled, all your anxieties melting away at the sight of your husband.

He wasted no time in crossing the space between you, leaning over you to plant a loving kiss against your lips.  All the emotions he had been holding in throughout the day, all the tension that arose during his mad dash through the hospital, and all the worries that the two of you had shared during your pregnancy struggles flooded between your exchange.  One of your hands traveled up to caress his cheek, your fingers trailing across his sideburns and into his slightly greasy black hair, pulling him ever closer to you.

“I’m happy you didn’t tear, or need anything else, really,” he whispered, pulling away from you.  “After everything you went through, you needed an easy birth.”

You grinned.  “I like to think our two other babies, somewhere out there in the universe, wanted it to be easy for us.  For once.”

Law pulled up a chair and sat beside you, leaning against your bed and dropping his head onto your shoulder.  You gently caressed your fingers through his hair in the way you knew he loved, watching with a fond smile as his eyes closed.

“What did they say about the NICU?” you asked, your voice tired and weary.

“24 hours.  Then they’ll be transferred here to stay with us.”  Law kissed your hand cheek.  “They’ll be eligible for discharge after they’re able to eat, stay warm, and breathe efficiently.”

“Speaking of which,” you stated, slowly moving yourself to sit up despite the aches in your bones.  “I pumped for the first time when you were looking at them.”

“How quick were you?” he asked with a joking tone.  “I didn’t think I was gone for that long.”

“It didn’t take as long as I thought it would, but I also didn’t need to give that much milk.  One of the nurses helped me, and they’ll be able to feed them in the NICU.  At some point in another hour or so, though, she told me I’ll have to visit them there so we can make sure they can latch on their own.”  One of your hands traveled up to painfully grab at one of your breasts.  “I’m already feeling so achy in my chest.  It’s gonna be a rough few months.”

Law grinned, dipping his head back down.  “But you’ll have help.  Don’t forget that.”

You hummed in response.  “You’re right.”

After a few extra moments of silence, you added.  “Names?”

“Hm?”

You chuckled.  “Names.  We have to name our girls.”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” Law muttered.  He had completely forgotten one of the most important parts of being a new parent.  “What were you thinking?”

“Cora and Rose,” you said, matter-of-factly.  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.  And now we know they’re both girls.”

Law smiled, a rare, genuine expression that reached his eyes.  A smile he only ever showed you.  “Cora and Rose… which one is which?”

“Rose is the one with those little black curls.  Cora is the one with the lighter hair,” you confirmed.

Another tender kiss was planted on your forehead.  “I couldn’t ask for anything better than that.”

—

You didn’t expect breastfeeding to be as euphoric as it was.  In less of an immense pleasure way, and more of a ‘holy crap, it feels like my breasts are losing 25 pounds’ kind of way.

Your girls were already so good.  Cora latched instantly, one of her tiny, weak hands curling slightly upward to grasp at your skin.  Both of them were still curled in a fetal position, and it would take them a bit longer to finally stretch out and look more like usual babies, but right now, they were the perfect size to swaddle and nestle into your skin.

The neonatal intensive care unit was a surprisingly colorful place.  You always imagined it would be rife with anxiety, desperation, and sadness, a bunch of little, sick babies fighting for their lives, but the second you and Law finally entered to see your daughters, all those expectations flew out the window.  Their corner was bright and colorful, with rainbows painting the walls and a fairly large window with a view of the surrounding city below.  It was pitch black out, just past midnight, but you imagined the daylight would flood the room with a warm, natural light.

Your daughters were already so warm, kept insulated by their little cotton swaddles they were bundled in, and their tiny beanie hats that covered their fragile heads.  The sight warmed your heart.

A breastfeeding specialist (which was a job you had no idea existed until then), helped situate you in a chair, accommodating your sore and spent body.  She assisted with adequately positioning your daughters, one for each nipple, and gave you tips on how to make sure they latch and stay on while nursing from you.

You had an additional blood test a few hours after the birth, when your girls were done with their first natural feed and were now sleeping calmly in their incubators.  It was looking like you’d be able to go home within the next 24 hours, if everything continued as normal.

While you were taking a light nap in the chair beside your daughters’ beds, Law used your phone to snap some pictures of Cora and Rose in their tiny beds side by side, smiling as he pulled up your text messages and sent them off to Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku.  He didn’t think they’d respond, with it being so late, but their messages rolled in almost instantly, bringing a fond smile to his face.

Ika-chan OMGOGMOGMGOMGOMGOGMOGMGOGMOMG

Ika-chan TWO LITTLE GIRLS

Ika-chan ARE THEY HEALTHY????????

Ika-chan ARE *YOU* HEALTHY?????????????

Shachiiii Still cant believe those things came out of you whatthefuck

Shachiiii Must have hurt like a mf

PenPen Shachi’s next to me sobbing his eyes out

PenPen I’m crying too.  But I’m stronger than him

PenPen Fuck no im not.  Im soaked over here.  

It was then that his pager beeped.  He forgot he still had it on him.  Technically, he was still on the clock.  He gently placed your phone on the small table beside you to not wake you up before reaching into his coat pocket and procuring his pager, stepping out into the hallway to not disturb his three sleeping beauties.

“This is Dr. Trafalgar,” he said into the small device.

Some slight static came through the speaker.  [Hey, this is Operation Triple Organ Replacement calling in from the OR!  How’s our best doctor doing?]

Law couldn’t fight the smile that formed on his lips.  “Before I answer, how was the rest of the procedure?”

Some small chuckles and a few mildly annoyed groans were heard.  [Patient did absolutely amazing.  He’s in recovery, stable, and is slowly being woken from anesthesia.  They’ll be able to take his intubation tube out in a few more hours, but that’s out of our hands.  Soooo…?]

Law felt relief fill his lungs.  A successful operation was everything he was hoping for, and now he felt he could finally rest easy.  “I have two daughters, Cora and Rose.  Everyone is happy, healthy, and resting.”

He needed to pull the pager away from his face as a cacophony of garbled cheering was heard.  A distorted [FUCK YEAH] echoed through the speaker.

“Are you guys still in the pre-op room?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

[Yeah, we’re all cleaned up and everything, but we were waiting for the right time to page you.  We’re abusing hospital equipment, we know, but this is CRUCIAL.]

Law couldn’t blame his team in the slightest.  It was past midnight on May 13th, and they had just completed the biggest surgical procedure of their lives, probably the most daunting surgery their hospital would ever see.  They deserved to rest and relax, and yet here they were, still in the pre-op theater, celebrating their lead doctor.  

The black-haired surgeon smiled, pressing down on the transmission button with his thumb.  “You guys go clean up, alright?  Treat yourselves.  Everyone did absolutely amazing today.”

[Copy that, Doctor.  Tell your wife we said congrats!]

Law slipped the pager back into his pocket before reentering the NICU room.  His stern, golden eyes softened instantly upon seeing you awake, leaning over the side of Rose’s bed and idly trailing your thumb softly over her chubby cheek.  Beside Rose, Cora’s arms were already outstretched far enough that she was almost encroaching on her sister’s space.  Soon enough, the small oxygen tubes taped to their fresh faces would be gently removed, and they’d be able to go home and sleep in their cribs, in your apartment.  Law leaned over you and kissed the crown of your head, rubbing his inked hand between your shoulder blades.

“Hey, baby?” he whispered, gazing down at you.

You leaned into his side, melting at his touch.  “Yeah?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #law x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #i'm losing you

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK Chapter 258 (spoilers)

We get an explanation about what happened to Gojo after his two BF and what should've happened to Sukuna but didn't because Yuji's BF disrupted his cohesion to Megumi's soul and body.

Sukuna of course, in complete bitch mode, expanded his domain as an answer to Yuji's attacks. His domain construct looks significantly different to his previous ones though and there is an explanation for that as well.

Sukuna is still suffering the effects of Gojo's Unlimited Void but he compensated for that by using other areas of his brain. He also had to use Binding Vows and a different hand sign (the fuck) and he expanded MS with a shell.

When I first saw that new construct I thought that Sukuna had somehow incorporated the 10Shadows into his domain but no, he changed his domain so much that the construct changed with it.

The shape isn't out of the blue though: it has hands symbolizing how Sukuna uses his slashes and the eyes and spine are like the mouth in his normal construct. The antlers on top are from his inner domain where there are deer skulls everywhere.

The many eyes could also symbolize Gojo because, as we see in a few panels clearly but can guess in this panel as well, Sukuna used Gojo's hand sign. The eyes have Sukuna's double/triple iris though.

Another explanation, this time on healing others. This is huge for Shoko's part because we've had trouble understanding the full extant of her healing ability. She can't e.g. regenerate an arm but now her healing has the potential to shoot up when her patient is someone she's compatible with (like Gojo?)

The gang is at the beginning of the time skip (no Gojo here again) and they discuss Yuji eating his brothers to gain a CT and RCT. We also find out what the soul switching is (Ui Ui's CT) and how they utilized it for their (cheater) training.

Yuji and some others have also learned Simple Domain like this. Ui Ui's CT has some limits on how often it can be used so I'm curious who did which switching with whom. We're also talking about souls again so could Ui Ui switch Megumi's soul too?

We also learn that Sukuna DE is incomplete and can't be maintained for long. Because his domain has a shell, it's range is smaller (only about his Megumi-induced range of Shibuya.) But the Sure-hit still activates everywhere making sure that Maki is also targeted.

It's only 99 seconds though that Malevolent Shrine lasts and the four panels showing the gang enduring it with their SDs is pretty cool.

(I have no idea what is going with Maki though. Who's with her? Larue???)

The next panels were awesome but I did take 3 seconds to understand it so here:

Yuji re-attached his cut off foot with blood manipulation and RCT!

But of course, Sukuna is still in bitch mode and activates his secret technique that we've been waiting for all this time: It's FURNACE

Yes, his CT really is a kitchen. Don't be surprised when he opens his faucet next and don't forget, Sukuna one-shotted Jogo and Makora with his fire arrow.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk spoilers #spoilers #sukuna #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #gojo satoru #ryomen sukuna #maki zenin #meta

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 13: The past cannot be forgotten /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N finally opens up to Azriel about Ruvyn. They finallly go to Koschei's home.

Word Count: 1,6K

Warnings: Just the usual angst.

Notes: My dumb ass accidentally posted this before i even posted the first chapters ughhhh

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

Azriel sat in bed, watching her squirming and groaning, her eyebrows furrowed and sweat coating her forehead. He reached to wake her up when she jumped out of her slumber, sitting in bed with a panicked expression, hands grasping for his arm, eyes frantically scanning him for any injuries. 

“They took you, I saw Ruvyn kill you.” She sobbed, tears streaming down her pretty face. He pulled her to his lap, allowing her to cry on the crook of his neck. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He rubbed her hair, noticing how this worked to calm her down faster. As she stopped her sobs and looked at him again with her red puffy eyes, he pulled her in for a kiss, gently cupping her cheeks and brushing her lips with his own. “Whenever you need to talk to me, I'm here for you.” He said after they parted the kiss.

“His name was Ruvyn.” She spoke, her voice hoarse from both crying and sleep. He watched her intensely. “Before our people became one, Ironteeths hunted Crochans down, to kill them for what their ancestors did to us. I met him in one of my huntings, he was different from the humans I met, he was charming, and something in me came back to life when I saw him for the first time.”

Her face dropped to an even sadder expression, like remembering those things were too painful, and they were, but she needed to let them go, she couldn’t keep allowing that Ruvyn’s ghost haunted her and sucked the life and joy out of her anymore.

“I fell in love with him and I kept coming back to him. He showed me things that I never thought I would have the chance of experiencing. He taught me how to dance, how to live, and how to love.” She rubbed her eyes. “The night I finally got the courage to be intimate with him was like a dream come true. I told him I loved him that night and he looked me in the eyes, like I truly meant something to him and told me he loved me too. When I woke up he had turned me in, ready to burn me at a stake. He told me so many awful things that I still carry with me to this day, he said I was going to die alone and no one would ever love a monster like me.”

The pain in her eyes was too much for Azriel to handle. He understood perfectly how hard it was hearing such harsh words directed at him, but it was totally different coming from someone she trusted with her heart. 

“I was able to free myself, the people who snickered at me started to scream and run away, i was never a monster Az.” She promised. “But that day I turned myself into what Ruvyn believed I was, I became the monster he made me. I killed the man I loved with my bare hands, I ripped his heart out for what he did to mine. I’m not proud of this but I can't erase what I did.”

“And you had every reason to do what you did, I can't imagine a betrayal like this.” She looked at him with worried eyes.

“You don’t think I'm a monster?” Her lower lip started to quiver like she was going to cry again.

“I could never think that of you.” He reassured her, pulling her in for another kiss. “I love you.” 

And despite not being able to tell him that she loved him too, she opened her heart to that feeling, something told her that this time would be different and she was willing to believe. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

After that morning, they got ready to talk to the rest of the house about their conclusions, finding the two males by the dining room having breakfast, Vassa was nowhere to be seen. Azriel and Y/N greeted them, sitting down to eat. 

“Did you two sleep well?” Lucien asked, always the kind host.

“We did, thank you Lu.” Y/N said. “But I guess the news we have for you isn't that good.” She sipped on her coffee. “Koschei is a Valg king.”

Her and Azriel shared all the information they gathered last night, including the one about Nesta, who according to the letter Azriel got late in the night, was being kept hidden at the cabin much to her dismay. Y/N couldn’t imagine what they had to do to keep Nesta locked against her will, and she wanted to end this soon so her friend would be free again. 

“So we’re basically fucked?” Jurian asked, biting a piece of toast with a smirk adorning his face.

“Precisely.” She motioned to Lucien. “Although our fire boy over there has a chance of killing him.”

“Me?” Lucien choked.

“Fire can kill a Valg, that’s how Aelin Galathynius killed Maeve, a Valg Queen.” She said it like it was obvious. 

“And you want me to Aelin my way into killing Koschei?” Y/N laughed.

“Yeah, she burned Maeve from inside out.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.” He protested.

“Then i suggest you find out very quickly cuz we need to kill him as soon as possible.” She shrugged. “But no pressure.”

“Yeah, no pressure.” Lucien mumbled underneath his breath, taking another sip of his hot coffee. 

“So who’s ready to have a tour of Koschei’s lair?” Jurian asked, excitedly getting up and clapping his hands, the groans he received as an answer just made him smile wider.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The cabin was made from dark wood, ageing poorly with time, the roof was covered in pine needles and the yard really needed a trim to look decent, what connected the land with the island that held the big cabin was a very old bridge, and a dark lake surrounded the area, like the Mother had forgotten about that place too. 

“This smells so awful.” Azriel said, scrunching his nose in clear disgust, the smell was putrid, like death. Exactly like the Valg smelled. 

“Did it always have this smell?” She asked the males behind her. 

“Gets worse every day.” Lucien replied.

“Especially when he releases those things.” Jurian added, making her whip her head back to look at him.

“What things?” Jurian started to describe the monsters he saw coming out, a wide variety of horrors with long claws, sharp teeth and bloodthirst.

“We kill some, but others disappear. Maybe they get killed in the courts, we don't know what they want.” Lucien explained and she nodded. 

“Fuck.” She cursed. “If he's indeed after Nesta’s power, this is his way to guarantee an army before he can open that damned gate.”

“How are you so sure he has a key?” Jurian inquired, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

“He got here somehow, he has the original key he had before he was bound to that lake. He has to.” It only made sense that he still had the key, if he was trying so hard to free himself. 

“She has a point.” Lucien waved his hands and Jurian rolled his eyes, mouthing the words back to him in a mockery tone, prompting the male to crack a smile.

“Shhhh, someone is coming.” Azriel shut the conversation down and everyone turned to see.

It was like time had come to a stop, cold spread across her body, freezing her in place as she took the male in. Short golden-blonde hair, ivory skin, broad shoulders and a sculpted body showing through the thin tunic he wore. Beautiful, lethally beautiful like Erawan was. He took a look around, and shining against the sun, his gold eyes, just like Manon’s and just like his younger brother. The eyes of a king.

He stretched his muscles and turned his head towards the sun, letting it warm his skin. A lazy smile appeared on his face and he turned his head towards them, with his eyes closed and a very deep voice, he spoke. 

“I don't like being watched.” He opened one of his eyes, looking directly into hers. 

She motioned for the males to keep quiet and stay in their place, kicking Azriel’s hands away when he tried to grab her ankle. She got up, climbing the hill they were hiding and started to walk in silence, stopping over the edge of the bridge. The male turned to her with a curious gaze. 

“You're not from here, you smell different.” He smiled sweetly at her. 

“I changed my soap yesterday, thanks for noticing.” She snickered and he openly laughed. 

“What a delight having someone so fun around.” He extended a hand to her, inviting her in, but she stayed rooted in place. “Aren't you here to see me?” 

“Yes.”

“Then come here, darling.” Azriel cursed as his shadows informed him that she started to cross the bridge, towards Koschei’ open hand. “What can I do for you?” His voice resonated through the trees.

“I've heard you can take all the pain away.” She replied, lies spilling from her plump lips. 

“You came to the right place, my sweet creature.” His hands wrapped around hers, and she almost flinched with how cold it was against her warm, sweaty and shaking hand. 

He pulled her hand towards his lips, kissing it with his eyes still locked with hers. He smiled again, pulling her closer to him, towards the open door of the cabin, exactly like she wanted.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself.” He bowed his head a little. “Despite the people of this land calling me Koschei, my name is Mantyx.”

She almost froze with the name, swallowing past the lump in her throat and forcing her legs to walk inside the cabin. Azriel watched in horror as she disappeared inside, the door closing itself after them, locking her inside with him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2

@roses-r-red54330 @mis-lil-red @sheblogs @hibye02 @impossibelle

@glitterypirateduck @zeroangelo13 @sekiro1310 @nelapeach14 @annamariereads16

@just-here-reading @celestialend @donttellthecats @scatteredstardustt @snoopyspace

@asterinblacksword @tsumudoll @georginat12 @skyjasper @anuttellaa

@willowpains @quinzzelx @amysangel @fightmedraco @puttyly

@lees-chaotic-brain @thisblogisaboutabook @esposadomd @stained-glass-eyes0708 @brujitafantomatico

@a-cup-of-nightshade @faridathefairy @bubybubsters

#azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #moonlightazriel #sarahjmaas #azriel shadowsinger #night court #velaris #azriel x y/n #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #worlds apart fic

[rexlroze]

𝟐 — 𝐃𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠����: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, No physical description of reader other than mostly height comparison. Swearing, Mention of alcohol, drinking, vomiting, Fluff.

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

A/N: I honestly had to rethink this over and over again so many times even though I was like half way thru the damn chapter so that's why making this took me long, also the fact I have the attention span of a child. I was really not sure about this whole thing cuz it kinda felt too sudden but hopefully, it turned out fine? for me it did tbh but like. *blink* yk? Or maybe it's just because I'm not confident in my fucking writing skills and need validation for every damn step I take<3 But anyways, I made half of the notes for this chapter during math class and the teacher caught me so that too (Spoiler Alert: I got sent to the principal's office :3) but that's besides the point. Also if some of the characters were a little OOC, I'm very sorry- I tried my best to make them as accurate as possible (some inaccurate shit tends to get on my nerve, mostly if it's produced by me) annnnd I need to stop ranting💀. I don't take requests nor do I plan on doing so in the future. Happy reading! 😉

Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3

Each Stroke of paint is smooth, filling the wall with a little more color than before. The bristles of the paint brush gently swipes over the wall. Music flowed into your ears and through, making you hum.

The atmosphere was calming, like nothing could ever—

“Whatcha listenin’ to?” A teasing voice appeared beside you making you jump and your shoulder tense up.

Right. You forgot he was still here. Pushing your headphones off, “a song.” You answered flatly, turning away from him, your back facing Hobie as you dipped your paint brush into the thick minty liquid that was within the metal bucket and slid the brush across the wall.

“Really? I'll have to check it out when I get home.”

You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone.

After yesterday, he helped you with a little cleaning. You thought he was probably going to dip and disappear from your life after that so when he returned the next day (today), it did surprise you a little. He's been just hanging around. You don't know why, he doesn't owe you anything. “Why are you helping me again?” You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Mate, you've asked me that like 4 times already.” 

“And each time, I haven't gotten a proper answer.”

This time, he's the one to scoff. “Is it that bad to want to just help somebody?”

“You're dodging the question again.” You say in a sing-song voice.

He holds his hands up in surrender, “aight aight. I'm just tryna help out a friend of a friend, y'know? Plus. I ain't' hurtin’ anyone, right?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it means, love.”

You sighed, your arm falling to your side. Your other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “okay. I'll admit, I'm being a little… douchey.” You say, biting your lip, “But I can't say that I don't appreciate your help, and company.”

“Little's an understatement.” Hobie quipped, snickering to himself which made you throw a side glance in his direction. An innocent smile spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes turning back to the wall to continue what you were doing. Hobie took it as a sign to pursue his side of the wall.

A small spot was left just at the top of the wall making you push yourself up on your tiptoes, trying to get to the empty white patch on top of the wall.

Hobie, who was distracted by his own work, took a glance at you when he heard a few groans of frustration. Seeing you so frustrated over such a small thing brought a small smirk to his face. He settled his brush down into the paint bucket and made his way to you, your head turning to him when you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye extending his hand, beckoning for you to give him the brush you held.

You raised your eyebrow but gave in, settling the brush into his extended hand, your fingers grazing his palm before you quickly withdrew your hand to your side.

He stepped forward closer to you and the wall, making you step back away, giving him space as he took care of the last white spot on the wall. 

“Thank you,” you gave him a small smile and a nod.

“No problem.” He returned the smile. You two stood there holding eye contact. His eyes were as pretty as they were in the poster. No. Prettier. You thought, why? You didn't know. 

You quickly cleared your throat and looked away to look at your progress the two of you had made whilst he sunk the paint brush back into the depths of the mint paint after filling the small white spot with paint.

The two of you had already completed three walls, the last wall was just about half done. The only other thing left to paint was the closet, you'd get to that later.

“You wanna go get a drink?” Hobie suddenly asked, turning his head towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather vest.

You rubbed a hand over your jaw, the thought of a break was very enticing right about now since you'd been busy for about a solid 4-5 hours. You answered after a second or two of silence. “Sure. I could use a little break.”

“Good cuz I know an awesome pub around here.”

“Lead the way.” You said extending your arm towards the door.

—

The two of you walked side by side, Hobie’s gaze fixed on the rock he kept kicking in front of him during your walk, yours lost in the sky that was split into hues of yellow and pink.

“So, I haven't really seen you around here before.” Hobie suddenly spoke up after his rock companion got left behind, a small pout formed on his face which disappeared as quickly as it appeared when it did but obviously he wasn't going back just to retrieve a rock.

“Just moved here about a few days ago, used to live in York with my parents.” You answered, crossing one of your arms behind your head.

“Hm.” He nodded before silence fell over the two of you again, seems neither of you knew what to say. Your eyes lingered on the sky, watching the purple mixing into the pink and orange.

This time, you decided to break the silence. “So, where are we going?” Your head turned towards him, tilting your head a little.

“It's a surprise.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“It's a bar.”

“Your point?”

“I mean, how ‘exciting’ can a bar really be?” You snorted.

“Depends, you ever been in an underground pub?”

“No— say what now?” You gawked, turning to Hobie with wide eyes who just smirked and lifted his chin. When he didn't continue elaborating further, you decided to poke at the subject. “Wait, c'mon. You gotta tell me more.”

Chuckling, he let out a low whistle. “No, I don't.” 

“You can't just tell me we're going to an underground bar then shut up. Like- what if I get kidnapped or sumn?” You exaggerated, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I'll be right there beside you, love, won't even let anyone lay a hand. Good?” He proposed, playfully tilting his head a little.

“You're torturing me.” You groaned.

“Maybe that's my plan.” He shrugged, flicking invisible lint off his jacket.

“...”

“How do I know you're not the one who's trying to kidnap me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Doesn't it seem oddly weird you just randomly appear at my parlor, offer me help and now you're taking me to a very secret underground bar.”

As Hobie heard you ramble on, he couldn't help but start to chuckle. His chuckle twisting into a flown blown laugh as you threw a playful punch in his shoulder.

“Tell me. You have trust issues or something?” He chuckled, wiping an unshed tear from his eye. “Just have a little patience. It'll be worth it, I promise. I mean, you can always go back if you’re too paranoid.”

“Hilarious.”

“I'm being serious, I can walk you back right now if you'd like.” He offered, slowing down.

Your lips parted as you thought about it for a quick second before shaking your head. “Nah, no thank you. I'm coming along.”

“Hm, suit yourself.” He shrugged looking back to the front of the street. Your footsteps falling in sync with one another once more.

Silence taking over, punctuated by the honking motorcycles and cars and the birds chirping.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Twelve minutes later, the both of you stood before an abandoned 2 storey office building. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades with its cracked windows which reflected the creamy moonlight. Graffiti turned the concrete structure into a riot of colors, doodles, swear words and penises with overgrown vines that clawed their way up the sides. 

As Hobie strode towards the door, his hand inches away from pushing the door when you suddenly spoke up, “it's in there?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He said turning his head towards you, “I know it don’ look it but I promise it's on purpose. Keeps the coopers away.”

“Ehh… I don't know. I'm starting to believe the whole “you're trying to kidnap me” thing.” Skepticism traced your voice.

“Oh, c’mon. Just trust me.”

“That's what I'm scared to do.” You scoffed. “This looks like a place where serial killers would stuff their victims in.”

“Dunno, never tried digging around. Two bodies at best?” He analyzed jokingly, covering up his laugh with a cough as he saw you pale a little. 

“You're not funny.”

“Dunno ‘bout that, love.” He snickered. “You comin’?” He didn't wait for you to answer before he disappeared into the building.

You crossed your arms tapping your foot, not wanting to follow him in because of your stubbornness but something about standing alone sent chills down your spine.

I'm gonna kill him. You quickly sprinted into the office-like building following Hobie's direction, running away from something you don't even know.

You find yourself walking behind Hobie who walks up to an elevator across the room. The walls were crumbling, chairs laidon the floor, tables flipped upside down “Why the hell is this place so run down?”

“It's a meeting ground made by the government, basically all the corrupted and secret shit that they wanted no one knowing happened around here but word got out. Eventually punks started graffiting the grounds, protesting, sneaking in and eventually drove them out to who knows where. Started using it as a club and a speakeasy after cuz it was spacious grounds. Coopers don’ blink an eye towards this direction cuz they're bloody cowards.” He casually explains (leaving out the part where he whooped their asses and corrupted all their data with a chip he made as Spider-Punk but you didn't need to know that.) 

He pressed a few buttons which opened up the elevator doors. Wordlessly, he gestured to you to get in.

“And you know this how?” You lifted an eyebrow climbing into the elevator, he followed suit.

When you asked that, it brought a proud smile to Hobie's face, “I was one of the punks.” He answered nonchalantly without glancing at you, the pockets of his leather vest stuffed with his hands. The elevator door slid back together locking the both of you in.

“Of course you were,” you said it like it was one of the most obvious things in the world for which you got a little nudge in the shoulder from his elbow. He pressed a button on a small keypad beside the door making the elevator flow down.

The elevator finally stopped making a small chiming sound after what seemed like minutes but in reality. It had been barely more than 40 seconds. Guess time just slowed down when you're in the presence of awkward silence… or Hobie.

The doors opened up letting bright neon lights seep in and illuminate your face. The ‘bar’ (which looked more like a rave) was more lively than most bars you've gone to. Vibrant blends of pink, blue, and yellow casted over you.

“W'dya think?” A voice shouted over the blasting songs, Hobie's voice. You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to make up a coherent response. “You'll get used to it.” He nudged you before stepping out the elevator, signaling for you to follow him.

You shook yourself out of your daze and promptly caught up with him. You swore to god you've put way too much trust in someone you met a day ago. Maybe not even a complete 24 hours yet but you're too deep in and too stubborn to turn around.

“You come here often then?” You arched an eyebrow in his direction, his gaze straight ahead but he tilted his head a little to meet yours.

“Occasionally. Usually—” He was cut off by someone who called out to him in the crowd. “Yo, it's Hobie everyone!”

People glanced in your (his) direction, waving at him and cheering him on. Said man waves back, winking in the direction of a few gals who probably fainted with how excited they got but you didn't bother checking.

“Mr.Popular, huh?”

“That's one way to put it. I come here to hang out often so I know people.”

“Do you usually take all your girls here?” You suddenly blurted out, heat clawed its way up your neck when you processed what you just had said. He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress the shit-eating grin that came onto his face. “Shut up, I didn't mean it like that.” You grumbled, turning your head away from him. 

“I didn't say anything,” he shrugged, feigning obliviousness. 

“You implied it.”

“Did I?”

Something about his tone just wanted to make you sink into the floor and become one with the secretundergroundbarraveparty (whatever it was) or maybe punch that stupid smile off his face but you didn't do either. Instead you continued making your way through the crowd with him until you reached a bar. Several drinks lined up on several shelves behind the counter. You could tell that it wasn't just some cheap liquor crap either. It made you wonder where they had gotten it from.

He sat down on one of the stools, locking eyes with you before patting the stool beside him. Before you could say anything, your body moved on its own, settling yourself on the stool. Nobody else was really seated near your guys, most of the people were already drunk and partying.

Hobie leaned back against nothing but the air particles, his eyes resting on you when you stirred a little, turning to face him, “what?” you tilted your head.

“Nothin’, just thinking.” He gave you one of his small smiles before his attention averted to the raven-haired girl that walked through one of the doors that was hidden behind the counter. Her eyes fell on the two of you making them pop open, “are my eyes deceiving me or are those my most favorite people? Y/N, you didn't tell me you were in town!” She beamed.

“Yuri?” Your eyes harmonized hers. “I was gonna surprise you but… wait, what're you doing here?”

“Me? I work here, babe. The real question is what are the two of you doing here, hmm?” Yuri gaped, leaning against the counter. Her arms crossed over it.

“He dragged me into this.” You said pointing your thumb at the man beside you, making him gasp dramatically, “nah nah, I see how it is.” He drawled, turning his head away from you.

“Drama queen.” You accused, punched him in his bicep. The two of you acted like you had known each other for years by now.

“Ooh, you two must be close.” Yuri cooed, tilting her head, her cheek squished up against her hand as she watched the two of you interact.

“We met yesterday,” you scoffed, turning down any further suggestions that she could blurt out.

“Is that supposed to make a difference?” Yuri sassed, wiping a glass mug down with a cloth that was under the counter.

“Yuri.” Your eyebrows knitted together making her smirk, “what? I'm being serious.” She smirked.

“If this is you being serious, I don't wanna know what you being unserious is like.” Yuri snickered, placing two mugs in front of the two of you. Her body twisted around pulling out one of the alcoholic drinks out of the shelf and shaking the bottle before pouring it into your glass. “So darling, how've you been, how's Camden treating you so far?” She asked, pushing the two mugs across the counter towards you too.

“It's been alright. I've been working on my parlor recently. Otherwise… nothing special. Oh, Spider-Punk also saved my brain from spewing out like three days ago so that's something,” You shrugged when you suddenly heard Hobie choke on his drink, his beer going down the wrong pipe making him cough harshly. You and Yuri raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“Bloody hell. Sorry, this- this drink is really strong,” He sputtered, clearing his throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes.

“Okay…” Your tone contained skepticism in it, “you good now?” You asked to which he nodded. “Fantastic.”

You nodded, turning back to Yuri. A silence washing over the three of you even with the blast of music and chitter chatter in the back.

Yuri opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it when she heard the door squeak open. A brunette walked through, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the counter. “Hey!”

“Flash!” Yuri squeaked, her eyebrows knitting together. “You're not supposed to drink during your fucking shift!”

“Bloody hell. Chill, mom.” He rolled his eyes, voice awfully slurred leaning his hip against the counter but miserably failing after almost falling.

“Ay,” Hobie lifted his head in a greeting while you sat beside him thinned-lipped.

“Oh my god. Hobie, is that you my man?” Flash exclaimed, throwing his arms out in a hug but unable to reach him due to the counter that separated them so going for a high-wave instead that he missed by a head.

“The one and only,” Hobie snickered, grabbing Flash's wrist and guiding him through the high five properly.

Flash clicked his tongue, turning his head towards you, “Ooh, and who's this pretty little thing?” He smirked, grabbing your hand that laid atop the counter and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile, retracting your hand. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but Hobie beat you to it. “Y/N Y/L/N. We met yesterday.”

“What he said,” you dipped your chin in agreement.

“A pretty name for a prettier lady,” Flash winked at you when Yuri pushed him away with her whole hand pressed up against his face, “don't mind this idiot. He always gets like this when he's woozy.”

“‘m not woozy.” Flash grumbled, pushing her hand off his face and crossing his arms over his chest like a child who didn't get what they wanted.

“Sure you aren't.” Yuri rolled her eyes, wiping the black marble counter with gold veinings etched into them with a scruffy cloth tinted a light brown at hand (you assumed that it used to be white once.)

“Just a little bit, alright?” He grunted.

You tune in and out of the conversation thinking about what you could do back at the parlor, what you still need to do and improve, how you're going to start developing and promoting your work. Making a website could do me goods, never hurts to try. Maybe I should make a Facebook page— You jumped out of your twilight zone when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face.

“Welcome back to earth, love.” Hobie's voice was the first one you processed. 

“Sorry, just got some things on my mind.” You ran a hand over your head till the nape of your neck, letting it settle there.

“I can see that,” Hobie took the empty glass of beer in your hand and replaced it with a refilled one. Your eyes lingered on his hands, watching them with precision before your eyes found their way back to your glass, staring at the foam floating at the top of the glass. You brought the glass up to your lips letting the liquid burn down your throat.

Hobies eyes lit up with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Calm down, love. The drink ain’ gonna run away from you.” He quipped, his fingers gently wrapping around your forearm pulling the drink down from your lips. Your body slightly tensed up as his warmth seeped into your skin and throughout your body, your eyes meeting his.

Hobie's amused smirk seemed to drop into a line when he noticed the change in the atmosphere. His eyes stuck on yours, yours on his.

The tension suddenly drowned out by the cackle of Yuri who was watching Flash flirt (and fail miserably) with some gals that sat a few seats away from the two of you. His hand quickly untangled itself from your arm finding its way back onto the counter. You let out a breath of relief thankful for brief distraction.

Flash trudged back to where the three of you were, his shoulders slumped with a small pout planted on his face after the girls left with scowls and disgust etched on their faces.

“No luck?” Yuri teased.

“Shut up.” Flash huffed, snapping his head away from her to which Yuri hummed smugly.

Hobie reassured Flash by giving him a small pat on his back whispering some words into his ear that seemed to lighten him up. 

“Hey, up for some dare or drink?” Flash beamed suddenly, his movement more animated than before.

“What?” you tilt your head quizzically. 

“Dare or drink, do the dare or chug a beer.” Flash summarized with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“Oh no, I should probably get back in a couple of minutes,” you interjected, waving your hands in the air dismissively. 

Yuri frowned, “c'mon babe, my shift is almost over. It won't hurt you to have a little fun, y'know?”

“I really shouldn't-” You protested but quickly folded with Yuri's small pout the alcohol in your system. I'm so gonna regret this later.

—

“Chug, chug, chug!” The three chanted while your hazy eyes tried to focus on the mug of beer in front of you. This might've been your fifth drink of the night, but could you blame yourself? You were definitely NOT texting your fucking ex that you missed him (given by our dear Flash). Not in a million years, but it was more tempting than chugging another beer and inevitably using the next person near you as a vomit bucket.

“Fuck, 'm gonna vomit.” You slurred, putting the glass mug down on the marble counter. Somehow, even with four and a half beers in your system, you could kind of think properly.

Kind of.

“It's the beer or the dare, babe.” Yuri reminded, wiggling her finger.

“Mhm,” you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to rub the blur out of your eyesight. “I-I’m going to find the bathroom.” You shook your head, standing up clumsily. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth but it didn't help with your slurring at all.

You just whipped around and showed yourself the way towards the bathroom which you had no idea where the fuck it was simply disappearing into the crowd.

“That's not even the direction of the bathroom.” Yuri murmured, sighing defeatedly.

“So… who's going with her?” Flash raised an eyebrow, his eyes bouncing between Hobie and Yuri. The two stared back at him, making him raise his hands in the air defensively, “not it.”

It made both Hobie and Yuri roll their eyes. Yuri turned towards Hobie, opening her mouth to say something but Hobie interrupted her before she could.

“I'll go, ya both enjoy. If we don't return, we left, ‘ight?” Hobie gave them a curt nod and small goodbyes before he headed your way quickly just in case you were about to do something stupidly stupid and wouldn't be able to take it back.

Hobie strutted through the packed room, hands in pocket, eyes searching for a certain (h/c) headed individual. His height an advantage as he could see over the array of people. His nostrils taking in a whiff of the sweat and alcohol mixed in with the air, dancing bodies bumping against his.

Where did she go? He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes wandered over the room, skimming through the crowd but unable to spot you. You went in the complete wrong direction so you couldn't possibly have made it to the bathroom.

Should he call your name? Probably not, as tempting as it was, you weren't really a lost child.

He caught a glimpse of you – your back turned to him whilst you talked to two other girls. He doesn't remember introducing you to them. Maybe you knew them already? He pushed the thoughts aside, walking over towards you.

He tapped your shoulder, “Y/N-” only to freeze in his stance when he saw ‘you’ turn around.

“Huh?” The amber-eyed woman looked Hobie up and down, her eyes sparkling. “Sorry, can I help you?” She spoke softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“Sorry love, thought you were somebody else.” He explained noticing her smile slip a little.

“Oh.” She murmured melancholy, plastering a fake smile on her face. Hobie nodded and quickly left before she could say anything else.

Something – Someone – suddenly slammed into his side, his hands reaching down and grabbing their waist to steady them.

He looked down, finding your hazy eyes melding with his, “you good?”

“Just a little… light-headed.” You reassured, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm unable to ignore the uneasiness in the back of your throat but you didn't see why he had to know that.

“You wanna get outta here?” Hobie suggested, watching you narrow your eyes at him before nodding and mumbling something he assumed was a yes.

He moved his hand up wrapping around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator.

—

Ding.

The Elevator had reached the top, the metal doors sliding out revealing how the dark blue had taken over the sky, multiple glowing specks adorning the sky. What time was it? Where were you two going now? You wondered, your thoughts racing from one to another. At least they hadn't gone completely blank… yet.

Your body moved on its own — with the help of Hobie, of course. Otherwise you'd probably still be tossed around the crowd like a colorful toy among a group of children.

You'd rushed over dipped your head over a plant pot that busied the wall right next to the elevator when you reached it. Gagging and retching, expecting your half-digested lunch and almost 5 beers to make a quick reappearance but it never did.

“You feelin’ better?” The voice snapped you out of your musing.

“Nope,” you answered with a pop of the p. “I think… I think it's probably gotten worse actually.” Your answer was slow, trying to comprehend each syllable you spit out of your mouth.

“Eh, should've known better before dragging ya into a bar and making you chug beer.” He sighed, feeling you lean against him while he continued to steady your movement.

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

“Did you enjoy at least?” Hobie asked, trying to make some good of the situation.

“Mhm.” You crooned, stumbling over your own foot but never making it to the floor. He twisted the door knob that probably would've broken down if the breeze of air was too fast. “So where do you live?”

“Eh… my apartment.” You answered.

He chuckled at your ominous answer, “and where would your ‘apartment’ be?”

Huh… your apartment? It was on street… Your thoughts went blank. Did you just forget where you fucking live? yes. Yes you did. But if you think hard enough– nope. nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have drank that much.

With how long you were silent for, Hobie realized the problem. “Ya forgot?”

“I forgot.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @missshelleyduvall @hobieszeze

Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune

#A Piercing for the Heart #A Piercing for the Heart Series #A Piercing for the Heart Chapter 2 #hobie brown x body piercer! reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #APFH #hobiebrown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x you #hobie brown fluff #rexlpost #spiderpunk x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x body piercier!reader #spiderpunk x fem!reader

[crimeronan]

quick dunmeshi thoughts now that it's been a few hours since i finished the manga:

chilchuck good. love a bitch.

i was hoping i'd have a new popular femslash ship i can write for but unfortunately the yuris are too sweet and fluffy for me. i need my sapphics to try to kill each other at least once :(

similarly: marcille did great being unhinged within the constraints of the genre but baby girl i wanna see you in a yellowjackets type setting SO BAD. set marcille free in an adult drama where she can do true atrocities. FOLDED TOO FAST GIRLIE I BELIEVE IN YOUR ABILITY TO SUCCUMB TO DARKNESSSSS DONT LISTEN TO YOUR FRIENDS!! DONT BELIEVE IN LOVE!!! DONT HAVE A POIGNANT MOMENT OF EMOTIONAL GROWTH AND ACCEPTANCE!! DONT COME TO TERMS WITH GRIEF!!!! DONT LET THEM CONVINCE YOU NOT TO DO ATROCITIES YOU ARE SO POWERFUL AND CAPABLE OF RUINING EVERYTHING FOREVER!!!!!!

wasn't attracted to laios except for in one single scene.

it was the one where he suffocated falin.

we're not going to unpack this.

izutsumi would be a blorbo if she wasnt just straight-up me.

as is though so many of her lines are things i have directly said aloud in real life conversation that i spent the whole time going "well. this is freaking me out."

kabru is an icon. love guys who play 3d chess

come to think of it, i'm pretty sure his relationship with mithrun is the only one that had any emotional impact on me whatsoever. cunt who can't feel dick about shit x bitch who's pissed off about it 5EVAAAAA

i still default to snack packs of cheez its and goldfish crackers to replace the meals i don't wanna cook. an entire 100-chapter manga about the love of cooking and eating has done nothing to improve my outlook on cooking and eating.

sorry senshi. :(

#now if anyone has any fanwork they swear by where marcille and/or falin are super fucked up in dark fiction ways. well. u know what to do #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XIX

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: well I said a couple of months ago that something was toxic… there’s a lil bit of non-con this time, so if someone of you is not ready, im sorry, is that chap.

A/N: this chapter wasn't very easy to write, but the next ones won't be either, let's wish each other good luck.

She had hoped to go somewhere else, but with problems piling up day after day doing so wasn't even an option. It was safer to stay south, where their reservation still acted as a natural stop to any external influence coming from across the border, plus Roman was in the area, though again not there with her, having yet another meeting with yet another person for yet another deal.

She hadn't been very happy about it at first, but had to admit at least to herself that maybe it was for the best. In town she had finally found something she could bring to Lisa to thank her and plus they were relatively close home, which meant they would be there before night and she could go to bed to recover a bit.

The stress caused by the situation did not help either her mood or body already affected by hormonal swings of a heat that Y/N prayed to postpone as long as possible. She wasn't sleeping well due to too many thoughts, she was losing her appetite, as well as the desire to go running and that afternoon she had another one of her waves of shivers which was trying to fight with some hot chocolate in an attempt to also replenish a sugars. She had bought Solo a coffee too, but he kept holding it in his hand without drinking, too busy glaring at anyone who dared come closer than necessary, that was not even so close.

- You didn't grow up here, did you? – she asked, interrupting silence between them once again, because they spent a lot of time together, but even if he seemed willing to talk with her, their conversations were never long.

He looked at her a bit confused, putting aside his perpetual serious face for a moment, coffee still in his hand.

- Jimmy said you came here after, like me – she explained, letting out an encouraging smile and he shook his head no.

- I grew up in the area, with my family.

Y/N let out a surprised oh, going back to twirling the straw in silence as they walked towards the suv.

From the stories she had thought he had come from out of state to help Roman, but she probably misunderstood. She hadn't spent much time with Solo's family, she had only seen them once actually and he didn't open up more than necessary, most of the time talking about what there was to do during the day, well she talked, he was more comfortable listening.

- Not with them. They were always together somewhere. – he added unexpectedly, perhaps not to make her uncomfortable with another silence or perhaps not to make her feel so out of place and Y/N smiled gratefully.

Y/N saw him nod slightly, as if satisfying her had satisfied him too.

She had never really thought about it, but there was an age gap between him and those three. Now he was a big boy with muscles and a menacing look, in those years he had probably just been a kid that them didn't want around. She couldn't imagine what it was like, Y/N hadn't had any brother or sister, she had grown up alone, but the half year spent with all of them before the chaos was enough for her to understand. Maybe he couldn't have tolerated them as a kid, always together already as pack leaving him at home and doing their own business, but now he was a man, it was different.

His family is broken.

- I'm sorry, Solo...

Standing next to the black suv, he looked at her, again confused by her reaction.

- We have to do what needs to be done.

- They're your brothers no matter what.

- I swore to the Tribal Chief. They did it too. – he said serious, his tone almost angry.

In packs like theirs, still tied to old laws and traditions, it was normal to have a relationship of deep respect with those at the top. Those were legacies that were now intertwined with a changed society but still subject to natural balances, such as the amendment on property rights between mates and social hierarchies for those who belonged to or were born from groups not commonly seen well. Y/N, with her omega smell, knew a lot about it and had had to deal with it there too in the first few months, but the prospect of an acknowledgment, oath, was new and something she hadn't heard.

She saw Solo open the door to let her in, his face less angry, but still solemn.

- You don't have to – he reassured her, mistaking her silence for concern, dark round eyes stopping too long lower, at the base between her neck and shoulder, where Y/N had tightened her jacket trying to send away the cold shivers – you already have his… smell.

Smell wasn't the word he wanted to say, but what Solo was referring to, she didn't have yet.

Our mark. His mark.

That too was an old legacy, dangerous in her case, but Y/N didn't have time to think too much about it by looking for her phone which in the meantime had notified of a message.

***

Paul was a smart man. Roman had chosen him as a wise man for that very reason. There was no one in the entire country more capable than him, no one who had his level of experience. He was a lawyer, an advisor, a connoisseur, he had political support, important acquaintances within the packs and outside, plus his family had practically adopted him when he was a boy, so he was not a stranger. The wise man was many things, but honest only when necessary and Roman had never had a problem with that kind of approach in their time together. He tolerated all sorts of expedient for his purpose, he had learned the hard way how much it cost to have feelings, but everything changed if those tricks helped something of which he was not made aware.

Because Roman knew from years and life lessons. Loyalty and trust were something he no longer expected, from anyone and certainly not from someone who had stayed afloat when everyone else drowned. Everyone could be a friend, everyone could be an enemy, his wolf now did no exception and all the whispers, phone calls and messages that kept Paul busy even when they were together were nothing but further proof of a picture that he knew. The wiseman acted driven by the feeling of ground crumbling beneath their feet, frightened by changes that his cousin and those dogs on the border threatened, by the possibility of a future that Roman would not allow as long as he was able to breathe. He loved the wise man, he could forgive him being a coward, pretending not to see, at least until he took a step too far.

- So? – he asked annoyed, almost making the phone fly out of his hand.

- Two weeks. Tomorrow both of you will exchange the sogi – he reported in a heavy voice, his shoulders low, his face frowning as if someone had just stepped on him after the news.

He didn't like the prospect of that fight, first of all because he was risking his head. Roman knew even without having to ask that he would play his cards to make things better and save everything, but for him the two weeks he had dealt were too much time and those plans useless. Fourteen days were the ritual time to provide what was necessary for families, so that both parties were ready for any outcome, but for him were just a useless wait. He wouldn't be the one to lose, he had no alternatives to plan unlike Jey, he just needed to have free way and get his hands on his cousin.

- About the stipulations, I was thinking- he advanced, trying to recover as much as possible.

- There are none.

- My Tribal Chief, if I may, considering what we are facing now, it would be better to leave a few more resources and perhaps-

- There will be no stipulations.

He had complied with stipulations, conditions for weeks, suffered weakness for months, the time for mercy was over. He had left many doors open for his cousins, he had tried everything and Jey however had gone where he shouldn't, disrespecting him to the point of contesting him with the Elders, they had gone too far and now there was only one way to put an end to it. The only acceptable stipulation was unconditional surrender, total humiliation, there was nothing else to talk about. Guts were needed to keep their family in line, his dad had reminded him of this and Roman was not willing to receive other reminders in the future, he was no longer a boy. Whatever happened next, he would handle it the way he handled everything, with a firm grip and without regard, he didn't need those two to do it. He was the alpha, he had control and winning cards to play against everyone.

- How much longer do we have to stay here? – he asked, tired of waiting, staring with annoyance at the watch on his wrist.

They had been in that office longer than he was willing to tolerate and he couldn't stand listening to the wise man calls or him typing messages anymore, he didn't have all day to waste signing a deal with the governor. He had to train, dedicate the next fourteen days focusing on the goal, not sitting bored in a chair waiting for a paper that should have already been ready the second he set foot in that building.

- I'm going to immediately check where Pearce has ended up, my… – the wise man snapped to attention, but he barely managed to turn to go towards the door – tribal… chief.

Roman smelled him before even moving his gaze to the man accompanying Pearce. He had no idea who he was, he didn't remember his face if they had ever met before, but he had a smell that he didn't like. He didn't like the smell of him, he didn't like the way was staring at him, he didn't like the attitude and he sure as hell didn't like that he came around when he had business to do.

We don't like him.

- Reigns.

Pearce greeted, already adjusting glasses on his nose, his expression stressed as always. Roman didn't even look at him, focused on observing the new arrival who was already taking place at the table without having been invited. Pearce had that same attitude in the past, a couple of years ago, until Roman had taken it away from him in his own way and since then had never reappeared. He almost wanted to do the same with that new guy.

- What’s this idea Mr. Pearce?! It was supposed to be a private meeting for private business! Very important business! It's unacceptable! – complained the wise man, standing up against that lack of respect.

- Our new neighbors have informed the governor of activities across the border. It seemed right to him to invite Mr. Aldis as a delegate to clarify before signing anything. He’s in charge of that area now.

That's what he was. Another puppet, another well-dressed small dude convinced to have power or a chance against him, thought he was worth something, that he could stand face to face with Roman, thanks to the talks of those idiots to whom his cousins had left the field free. They were becoming arrogant, stupidly brave, throwing in his face that he had lost his hold in the north and that now there were others there. They hadn't gone too far yet, keeping everything legal, moving with what they could to make their voices heard, their new influence known, but Roman was fine with those games as long as they didn't go beyond the limit. And the limit was his patience running out.

- Since you no longer have jurisdiction there and the upcoming Bloodline activities threaten the entire area, restrictions must be established for the future. Real restrictions Mr. Reigns that I will take care of enforcing and making clear to you. Without it, nothing new will be authorized. – the new dude, Aldis, announced, openly defying his influence, head held high and the wise man behind him jumped.

They wanted to authorize him.

- How dare you- he screamed, but Roman simply raised a finger to silence him, the other hand gripping the chair.

That tanned, smug face of him would have looked perfect smashed onto his table or on the floor, better under his foot.

They wanted to play the big game, gamble when he already had more important business to take care of. It was almost hilarious, almost because that little game would be short-lived. He would let them do it, for a while, until Jey got what he deserved since everything that was happening was his fault. That was what happened if they left their side exposed, if they allowed a pack of strays to smell weakness, it was the price to pay for a crack and the reason Roman would have no more second thoughts.

Elders were right, he had to focus, do what he had to do and what he had been chosen for. He couldn't afford any more weaknesses or they would become ready and able to bite his throat.

- Go ahead – he conceded, collecting himself.

He would get rid of them one by one, blood of his blood or not. Without mercy.

***

She had sought comfort between now cold sheets smelling of him, curling up her legs for extra warmth, keeping her eyes tighter to ward off thoughts ready to fill her mind, but hadn't made it and her she-wolf had found Roman through the link. She had sensed him immediately, probably because he wasn't shielding anything believing that she was still asleep and Y/N had snuck out to join him in the dim light of his home office.

Mate is not here with us.

He was sitting on the couch with a solitary lamp, his face serious, fingers running through the seeds of his necklace. He was physically there, but his head was somewhere else as happened too often now. In the house he always kept the ulafala in the case, but Y/N didn't need to ask to know why he was there staring at it when he was supposed to be resting by her side, in their bed. Paul had told her as soon as he received the news, keeping to their agreement or perhaps already seeking help and Y/N had finally given a deadline to the anxiety that was weighing on her.

Fourteen days of peace before chaos, before completely crumbling what was left of the family, but in a few hours it would truly become inevitable. Or it was probably already late judging by Roman's face.

- Will you have to wear it? – she asked in a whisper, entering the room almost on tiptoe.

He hadn't told her anything about how the meeting would take place nor had he added anything about the fight, but she couldn't blame him. She had promised to stand by him, to defend him, yet she hadn't reacted well to his drastic change of plans and he didn't seem to really understand why she hadn't accepted it. What had happened was serious, but what could happened next would be even worse. Standing, she watched him keep his gaze fixed on the symbol of sacrifices, of his role and pains without turning to look at her and she too observed it, perhaps expecting a revelation.

Red for power, seeds for the rebirth of the dynasty.

She knew the value and pride behind that object, Roman had told Y/N all the stories about the ulafala, but no matter how hard she tried in her eyes it was only a necklace left weighing him down. It should have given him strength, conveyed his strength, represented the family future and instead he found himself fighting to keep it around his neck, to keep what he had gained after an argument born from unpleasant circumstances and degenerated due to old grudges.

- I earned it, represents me – she heard him reply, because in his mind it was the only thought.

She felt it, she knew it. He felt his efforts, sacrifices threatened and they were, but Y/N still felt like it wasn't Jey or Jimmy who was the real danger. At least not initially, now everything was a danger, even the elders who were supposed to accompany and advise him. Them all had fallen into a trap were building with their own hands and she couldn't resign herself to the sight of that disaster.

He's not just that for us.

- You don't need it – she reminded him, stopping looking at the ulafala to focus on him.

She saw him inspire with frustration, felt annoyance pass through him at the mere idea of continuing that conversation, his eyes far from hers.

- Go back to bed Y/N.

- Come with me then, is not mornin yet – she insisted, refusing to give up.

They had different opinions, different approaches, it had always been like that and perhaps it would never change, but they were on the same side. She didn't want to go back to their room if he wasn't there, didn't want to sleep if he wasn't there, she had been alone for too long to throw away moments, to wait two weeks to pass and then hope to go back to what they had before. She trusted Roman, she had never trusted anyone like him, but it wasn't going to end up with Jey and Y/N was honestly afraid of the aftermath he talked about. The threats were different, without blood ties and were just waiting the right moment to attack him, they wanted to get him out of the way and take everything, not just his role. No one can get rid of a weed without pulling out its roots. It had already happened with her family and now can happen again because he was focused just on what was in front of him. But she couldn't wait for the inevitable, it wasn't in her nature to do what she had to do or what he wanted, she existed to do what he couldn't.

She saw him stay silent, sign he had no intention of moving. So she stood in front of him, slipping the ulafala from his fingers without asking. That move finally forced him to raise his head, trying to understand what was happening, while she carefully placed it back in the case where he kept it and then went back to the couch. She listened him breathe heavily, scratch his dark beard with a grimace, and she sat down on his lap to take up the entire view.

- Ain't doing this talk once more – he stopped her soon, shaking his head.

- Not even if im the one asking? – she tried, seeing him immediately clench his jaw.

- Im doing it for you, for us, all! I told you and you said we were on the same side, now what?!

- I'm not taking anything back. I'm just worried it’s already too much – she confessed, not really knowing how else to explain the feeling in her.

Maybe she was giving in to the hormones, anxiety, or maybe was the fact she hadn't cared about others in years like she did now for him, but it was all happening so fast and whether Roman was ready to admit it or not, he was losing control and not facing things with a right mindset. Those outbursts of anger, the way he turned against everyone, judgments, drastic solutions, he was getting carried away by the desire for revenge and his justice. He kept saying he was doing it for them, for their future and instead seemed like a pretext to rush towards other problems. They didn't need acknowlegment, a border to build anything, they were fine, everything worked when it was just them, together. They had never been happier than in the time spent getting to know each other, digging their bond out of the dust and strengthening it. Life certainly couldn't be made up only of moments like those, dates and runs in the woods, but things could certainly have been different.

- Whatever it takes, doesn't matter, at all – he announced, almost exasperated by having to explain, by having to hear, his gaze so confident and Y/N stared at him for a moment without being able to say anything else.

Whatever it takes, he said.

The prospect of those sacrifices and ease which he said he wanted to face them would torment was heavy, but as she had sadly learned to do growing up, she hid all the worry in the back of her mind.

He didn't listen or maybe he didn't want to.

So Y/N simply moved closer, challenging his growing temper, to seek some warmth and his lips in an uncertain kiss. Saw him look at her almost suspiciously for her reaction, studying before reciprocate the kiss and sliding his hands down her thighs. Close, felt their breaths slowly mix in the silence of the dark house and that warmth she had found too late, growing from the most vulnerable part to her chest begging for comfort.

- You matter to me – she reminded him in a heated murmur, forehead resting on him, swollen lips touching, eyes burning for something that went beyond words.

She didn't really care about anything else. They could have been anywhere, surrounded by anyone or in utter desolation and Y/N would still have searched for those eyes. They were her firm point, he was her person. The thought of it terrified her, but she was done fighting and pretending. Roman was everything for her, she had nothing else anymore and she wanted, hoped... he would understand that for that exact reason they couldn't give in. They had to stay together, as a pack, mates.

She saw his gaze lingering on her lips, rising then to meet her eyes, two brown pools now dark in the dim light of the room. Felt his fingers gripping her hips, digging into soft flesh with possession, domineering and lust, marking her skin to claim and force her where she already was.

- Then you gonna be there with me, as you should – he demanded, resolute and despite fighting with everything her head suggested, Y/N nodded to please him again, letting Roman finally crash his mouth against her, satisfied.

They would find a way, they would find a solution even if it seemed difficult, they could do it together, but in that moment Y/N just needed to feel him close, just for her, far from all the noise and problems that awaited them out. They could give themselves that moment of rest, cherish it and Y/N rocked on him, moaning into his hot mouth as their bodies inexorably warmed up. His tongue was insatiable, ready to devour and intoxicate her with his good taste, thrown into a fight that she didn't even dare win. She preferred to let him have control in those moments, while her fingers made their way through dark soft locks, scratching the back of his strong neck to once again elicit that raw growl that vibrated through his broad chest into her bones. Felt his hands slide deeper, grasping her ass, encouraging Y/N to move her hips, pushing on his boner which was quickly answering to juices already wetting his pants.

She had stopped wearing panties when they went to bed a while ago and now was even grateful. She would bear nothing but the feeling of his hard body against her, pressure building like a blessed torture as he guided her growling for her to ride him shamelessly. Y/N had been trying to slow down and control herself for months now, so as not to give in to the heat of their bond, stay with feet on the ground and mind clear now that everything was falling apart, but it was an inexorable descent faster every time Roman touched her. She clung to him, feeling one of his hands travel up under her shirt to roughly grab one of her breasts, his calloused palm rubbing her sensitive nipple making her squirm. Her body had always been hyper-reactive to his attentions, but now she had fallen into a spiral with no exit. Y/N yearned him like a castaway for salvation and in moments like that the need mixed with something more, something that Y/N had never felt for anyone else and her she-wolf fought to make her whisper.

Tell him. We need him. Our mate. Tell him.

- My pussy wet as fuck hm? You need me, don't you? – he said voice like velvet, breaking their kiss and motioning for her to raise herself just enough to sink easily into her cunt – Ima fill you up good, babygirl… don't worry. Aint going nowhere and you'll be stuck with me.

The heat caused by his intrusion had already forced Y/N to open her mouth without being able to speak back, but the sudden thrust of his hips quickly accelerating to pound her almost made her cry. Hands tightened on his shoulders, eyes narrowing with each thrust and then opening as the wave of heat rose from her belly, sending her entire body into flames. Bouncing on his lap, she felt Roman moving his hand from her breast to give her a sharp slap on her ass, he did it one more time drawing a moan and then move up to her throat, to squeeze it just enough to bring tears to her eyes. Quickening the pace, in the frenzy of their moment, Y/N began to confuse the her own pounding heart with the slick sound of bodies slamming together. Her mind becomes more clouded by the second, ears filled with Roman's growls and threatening promises like dark spells ready to tear her soul and climax away. Confused between pleasure and desperation, she held him to her as he held her by the throat, twitches of her wet center uncontrolled amidst the panting of both of them that grew angrier. Room around flashed, throbbing like folds around his cock, impregnated with smell of their bodies, air charged and heavy, saturated with sweat and lust, with a mix of their smells.

They were racing with no intention of slowing down, as if the only goal was to consume, melt and crumble thanks to the other one. Y/N end came sudden and violent between a sloppy kiss and a particularly insistent push on that soft point on which Roman loved to rage without any mercy, fast, powerful, in a strangled moan that made her bare feet tingle, rising in an electric discharge up her legs to a sweaty body, chest begging and hot face. She closed her eyes, grabbing Roman's arm for her life, throwing her head back and then immediately hiding her face on his shoulder because he wasn't slowing down, he wasn't even giving her a moment to breath and she had already went over her limit. Heat kept growing and shake her, causing Y/N to lose all contact with her surroundings, ears ringing as if she had been underwater, body still crying out for more while Roman pounded furiously. Stunned, she stood abandoned in his arms, letting him have his way as he wanted, until something made her eyes widen, pushing her to gasp.

- R-Ro- she tried, because his hand had somehow left her throat, to grab Y/N by the back of her neck and tilt her head to the side.

He was holding her by her curls, beard scratching her hot neck, tongue ready to lick away sweat from her sweet pulsing weak spot to prepare it.

- Easy, stay still – his breath against her skin, so close, pushed Y/N to stiffen as much as his words – I'll be gentle, ssh…

Roman had never pushed, he had never held her like he was doing at that moment and feeling his teeth on her flesh sharper than usual, Y/N wriggled away.

- Don't - she tried again, feeling him tighten his grip, slowing down his thrusts, another hand moving to her wrist.

Why he was acting like that?

- Don't panic, its me – he reassured her, words heavy, attitude raising for her reaction and she planted her feet, her only free hand tapping on his bare chest.

It was him, Roman? Was it really him that one? Suddenly Y/N wasn't so sure and ignoring her wolf pleas, confused between the sense of discomfort and desire to give in, she pushed again to put some space between them.

- Y/N

- No, not like this! – she wailed and when finally managed to slide away from his legs, Y/N saw him jump up with a growl.

The crash of the coffee table froze her on the couch, eyes wide as she watched him pant in anger with clenched fists, body stiff. Still dirty for their moment, but with her mind completely clear now, she watched him stand there trying to regain control in a heavy silence she hadn't felt between them in a while. Roman rubbed his face, rolling his large shoulders, rocking his head and even though she was shaken, something in Y/N's chest tightened following the imperceptible direction of his gaze across the room, where she had put the ulafala away.

Did he want to mark her to prove a point? To have full control in order to not go through what had happened with his family? It was that?

Mate…

She moved her eyes to his hand, the one would have grabbed to calm him, to bring him back to there with her, the one she always found on herself for any reason even the stupidest, the one Y/N had learned to want, but a second too long passed and her hesitation was enough for Roman to quickly settle down, deciding to walk out of the room without a word to leave her again.

***

Uncle Afa was a man bent by age and illness now. When him and his dad stopped traveling around the country, he opened a gym in a recreation center on the eastern outskirts of the city where family had settled. He only trained their people at that time, city folks didn't want to set foot among savages, but his uncle ignored comments like his dad, dedicating himself heart and soul to the pack. Roman remembered going into that place the last time when he was sixteen, probably with the twins, to put on muscles that had grown bigger on their own later and fill his stomach always asking for more. The gym was different now from then, it was larger, it had incorporated buildings next door and it wasn't dusty at all. There was a sign, clean walls full of photos and articles, in the central one there was also him, right at the top.

They had organized the meeting there to have a neutral place, a place that represented everyone, a symbol of the pack values as the Elders demanded. Yet sitting at the head of the table in the gym hall, with the attention of many of his blood just beyond the threshold, Roman kept undaunted watching that perfectly framed photo at the top of the wall. He was there to talk, ready to prove his worth even if it was thanks to him that that picture had a wall to still be on, if that gym existed after his uncle's family had spent almost everything to pay the national healthcare system, if the next generations would have a place to go or eat like he did. He acknowledged his family efforts, but all of them would have been still in that dusty past of mediocrity if Roman had not taken everything into his own hands knowing he was more than what the world saw.

- Don't try, don’t think about it, I wouldn't do it if I was in your place - he heard Jimmy warn, blocking the wise man from trying to come forward to break the silence of their meeting that had already started a few minutes ago without a word.

Roman heard him clear his throat anyway, but payed no attention until Jey, the only one sitting besides him and Y/N, decided to cut it short.

- I don't have any piece of paper with me – he announced, rubbing his hands on his legs.

Roman eyed him silently, slowly tilting his head and Jey shifted in his seat, face so serious as he settled himself better to speak.

He could broaden his shoulders and give himself as much tone as he wanted, but he would never be on his level, he would never be like him and it was evident. That meeting was ridiculous, disrespectful even.

- It's just between us for me. Families have nothing to do with it – he explained, quickly nodding to whoever was outside the door – Same for Solo, he's my brother... and Y/N, she's family too. He disappears with you though and won't set foot in the packland again as long as I'm here. – he concluded, pointing to the wise man who didn't even manage to mutter his disappointment before Roman burst out laughing.

He’s crazy and dumb.

His hoarse laugh echoed throughout the entire empty hall and he didn't bother to hide it or hold back, simply running a hand over his beard to regain control only after a while. With the entire family's eyes on him, he knocked the table with his hand, eyeing his cousin once more.

Jey. The little soldier Jey. Roman had tried to keep him close, to teach him how things worked, because he loved him and still he didn’t get it. Not a single thing. Anything at all.

He persisted with his speeches even a few days before the moment which Roman would have removed him from the family, putting everything on the table to play the good pup. He wanted the title, he wanted to chase him away, but he was willing to vouch for his family anyway, for Solo who had kicked him and even Y/N… as if there was only one scenario out of all the ones imaginable in which Roman would have left her if not as a deadman or it would have allowed him to realize the ideas he had in his dumb head. He still thought the problem was him or the advice the wise man had given him to stay on top, he thought he could keep his hands clean, not involve anyone and he didn't understand that the situation they were in already, was the exact reason for which he would never have survived in Roman’s place.

- You're wasting my time – he said, giving him an annoyed smile.

Jey didn't reply, cashing in without even a nod. He was good at cashing in, Roman acknowledged it, it was his talent, perhaps his only one, but it still wouldn't have been enough against him. He might be determined and willing to fight him one more time, but it would be no use. Roman had no limits and had learned over the years and blows what was needed to kept the role he had.

- Whoever will standing at the end decides, tha’s the deal, the stipulation. There's nothing else to say – he established, tone suddenly deadly heavy.

There was nothing he wasn't willing to do or lose to keep what was his.

He saw Jey nod, imitate him and stand up and in the silence of the room leave the table to join him. Face to face to each other, he stared at his reflection in his cousin's dark eyes, the ulafala still around his neck as it was in the photo of him on the wall and as it always would be. He squeezed Jey forearm and allowed that even if the bond between them no longer existed, their wolves shared a final breath.

Blood of my blood. Brother. Traitor.

When the air left his lungs again to fill them with the stale smell of the center, Roman let go without hesitation, Jey imitating him in a perfect mirror. However, was he who turned his back on his cousin this time to go away first, ignoring the wise man's sad look and those of the rest of the family outside waiting. Y/N who had been on the sidelines the entire time, unexpectedly joined him, her back straight and face betraying nothing as she took her place next to him. Roman didn't comment, there was nothing to say.

Two weeks and he would have control again. Only two weeks before moving on.

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[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER ELEVEN

A RUNAWAY AND A DEADMAN

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~14k

⊲ previous

Under the concentrated puffing on the left, you tried to chop the chocolate bar as small as possible. Over the past couple of hours, you and Megumi have identified a not perfect, but decent recipe for chocolate muffins through trial and error. The boy slowly and methodically stirred the resulting dough with a whisk, trying to get rid of any lumps. When you reached for the bowl to taste the mixture for sugar, you received a resounding slap on the hand. You rolled your eyes and continued chopping the chocolate, trying to turn it to dust.

"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," muttered Megumi absentmindedly, watching the batter drip off the whisk.

You had to strain your ears to hear what he was mumbling to himself. "What if ya add more flour?" you asked uncertainly, looking at the too-liquid consistency.

"I'm not talking about muffins," Megumi snapped. A chill immediately spread down his back, making the boy shiver – it was all the fault of the sharp sound of a knife sticking into a cutting board. With a sideways glance, Megumi caught sight of you leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over your chest and staring at him. "Sorry."

"If it's not the muffins, then what is it?" you asked, peering into the profile of the frowning face.

"I...," he began, hesitating. "I'm not sure if we should put up with her anymore."

"Has your love gone away, too?"

Megumi looked up sharply, and you could see the anxiety spreading across his young face. "Has it gone away for her?"

"How would I know?" you shrugged dryly. "Ya both sitting silently in your corners and ya seem to be hoping that it'll work itself out there somehow," Megumi took a whisk out of the bowl and pointed a finger at it meaningfully. You chuckled quietly. "Dany always loved chocolate muffins. Kudos for volunteering," you jokingly gave a bow of your head. "Still, that doesn't explain your hesitation."

"Well...," the boy started stirring the dough slowly again as if it was a ritual that brought tranquility. "It's just... Does it make sense?" asked Megumi weakly, and you only hummed thoughtfully. "In the end, it doesn't matter how many friends and loved ones we have. We die alone anyway," the fridge started humming twice as loud, except it was a distortion of Megumi's hearing. He could even hear his own heartbeat, annoying and fast, all from you being silent. He coughed and glimpsed at you, making sure you were still standing next to him. "You don't think so?" 

"To be honest, I, uh... I hadn't thought about that at all," you chuckled nervously. "I'm still a little confused... Ya mean that when ya die ya'll have no one around ya, or vice versa, that despite being surrounded by loving people, ya'll go into oblivion alone?"

"Is there a difference?" he asked warily, almost fearfully.

"Yeah, ya right, I guess. There's not much difference," you sighed, scratching your forehead. "Look, Megumi, if ya wanna live your whole life in some small house in the middle of nowhere alone that's fine. If ya wanna live your life surrounded by a bunch of friends that's fine. If ya wanna live your life with only one person that's fine too, but it's all okay only as long as it's your personal choice.

"Fear rarely leaves a choice," Megumi doubted quietly, dumping your previously chopped chocolate off the board into a bowl.

"That's what I'm telling ya," you said, grabbing the cutting board and putting it in the sink. "Ya'll probably have a brick fall on your head tomorrow, and ya'll be lying in a dark alley all dead and alone," even though the sound of water running and a washcloth rubbing against wood was beginning to echo through the kitchen, Megumi could hear you clearly. "Scared to go outside now?" slyly glancing at the boy and seeing him shake his head in the negative, you smirked contentedly. "Ya can be afraid, but don't let something so ephemeral stop ya from living your life the way ya want to. It'll be fun if at the very end all ya have time to think about is how stupid ya were, not that ya're alone. If ya make it at all, of course," you scrubbed the board clean, but Megumi remained silent. Your patience was wearing thin. You needed either confirmation or persuasion. "So," you chuckled snidely. "What are we deciding? No, no, wait, don't say anything!" you turned to him and waved your hands, stopping him. "Ya better do. I'm offering you a choice - either ya keep making muffins or ya can go cry in your room. I'll understand either way."  

Megumi gave you a glare that glinted angrily in the light of the kitchen garland. "You remind me of someone," he hissed, and continued kneading the chocolate into the dough with double zeal.

You watched his eagerness with satisfaction. "That's what I thought. Okay, philosophical musings are all well and good, but let's have a little talk about training and a plan of action," Megumi glowed when you said that. As much as he could, but you hadn't even noticed the change. "I think it's time for ya to learn regeneration."

"Wouldn't it be better to start with rel-"

He didn't get a chance to speak, for you pressed your palm sharply against his mouth. "Nah-uh," you said slowly, shaking your head and looking into his rounded eyes. You didn't immediately realize that you were clutching his shoulder tightly with your other hand. "Ugh," you exhaled, pulling your hands away from him. "For now, forget that word, do ya understand?" you made a grabbing motion with your palm as if taking the word from his vocabulary. Megumi, pressing his lips tightly together for a second, nodded. "Ya'll be relocate with me anyway, so that's not really important at first times, but the thing that will save your life more than once is running and regeneration. But mostly running, of course," you pointed out.         

"I'm used to standing to the last man," Megumi objected sullenly.

"Ya'll wean," you chirped carelessly. "We're not known for heroics."

"And what the hell do I need this training for then?" blurted Megumi in the way he usually did - though his appearance remained calm, steel rang in his voice. "To run away like a coward?"

"So ya won't die," you parried. "How many people will ya save by being in the grave?"

"Will I save many by running away?" he persisted.

"At least ya'll stay alive and learn your lesson," you reasoned, spreading your arms out to the sides. "And if ya learn it right, ya'll be stronger."

"At the cost of the lives of the people I left behind?" Megumi continued to snarl.

"Exactly," you snapped, and Megumi bit his lip without expecting it himself. He was used to you and your perpetually calm and cheerful tone, and the way it shifted at the snap made the hairs on the back of his neck stir. "Ya volunteered, and now ya're my apprentice. I don't care if ya want it or not, but you will obey me now," you spoke coldly and distinctly. Relaxing your clenched fists, you looked at Megumi. His body was still the same size, but it looked like he was shrinking. Taking a mug from the shelf, you started brewing coffee. "The rest of the voidrunners will start evacuating in a couple weeks, we will join them a little later," you announced, softening your tone. "Ya want coffee?"

"Tea."

"Okay," you said, pulling out a second mug.  

Megumi didn't give up trying to protest. "I can start along with them-"

"Ya can't," you replied dryly. "Ya'll only go on raids with me."

"Do you distrust others that much?" the boy asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

You shrugged idly. "It just makes me feel better."

"Isn't it the same thing?"

Letting his words pass your ears, you continued your admonition. "When we're in the void, just drop the bags of supplies and run to the nearest rift. If anything goes wrong and we get separated, don't trust anyone, don't look at anyone, don't talk to anyone," you sighed restlessly, pouring coffee into one mug and putting a tea bag in the other. "Ya'll never guess who's standing in front of ya there," you added quietly.

"Don't you...," Megumi's voice came up, hesitating. "Don't you know how to tell the difference?"

You, with a fussy chuckle, began pouring boiling water into cups.  "No, none of the hunters have built-in internal radar, only experience. And experience, as it goes, comes with the years."

"Too long," grumbled Megumi gloomily. "We don't have that much time."

You set the mug of freshly brewed tea next to him. "Ya wanted it all at once?" you teased him, smiling. "Ya gotta pay tribute to dioreacts. They've spent thousands of years learning how to act like humans. They learned not only how to stir tea or blink, but how to perceive our world in general," you circled the space with your hands for extra convincing. "The first dioreact didn't know that all the electromagnetic waves around them were just color to humans because that's exactly our interpretation of electromagnetic waves, and there is no color anywhere in the universe outside of the human brain. Perhaps the dioreacts even now don't know what color is, but just... Uh, I dunno, adjusted? Maybe they can see wavelengths and have memorized that that wave over there is green and that one over there is grayish brown. Hunters used to catch them at it a lot, but the more time the dioreacts spend among us, the more they learn about our perception."

"What else?" inquired Megumi impatiently. Your hand with the cup of coffee froze at your lips, and you stared at the boy warily. "Forewarned is forearmed, no?" he quipped.

You tapped your fingernail on the cup thoughtfully. "Frank used to tell me that hunters used to catch dioreacts at the 'where ya from?' question. The poor things would just freeze in place with their mouths open, unable to say anything. Probably because humans don't have a single word to describe their homelands because we can't have that knowledge," you sighed sadly without realizing it. "Now the dioreacts have learned, and if you ask, they'll tell ya about all the places on Earth they've been, and they'll tell you their family tree too. I'm exaggerating," you added, noticing Megumi squinting at you incredulously. "But ya," you pointed a finger at the boy. "Don't ya dare pry into anyone in the void with questions. If it's a demon, it'll know right away what ya're up to, so it'll either run away immediately or kill ya," you slid an assessing glance at the boy. "In your case, it's more likely the latter. No offense."

You nonchalantly continued sipping your coffee, hoping it didn't hurt him too much. It didn't occur to you that Megumi had gone through similar words and phrases many times before and he hardly paid attention to yours. Why did it seem to him right now that a previously unsuccessfully nurtured stimulus was faintly stirring inside him, though? "Y/N?" hesitantly Megumi turned to you.

"Hmm?" you hummed detachedly.

"Is Gojo okay with that? Well, that you're training me."

"Yeah," you sighed, setting the empty mug back in the sink. "He grumbled a little, though... But he couldn't just throw ya into the basement with chains with a shout 'I won't let anyone have you'."

"Well, actually he could," Megumi muttered, wrinkling his nose squeamishly.

"But he didn't," you quipped.

"Yeah, he didn't," the boy agreed with you. "Thank you for that."

"I had nothing to do with it."

"That's what you think," the unfamiliar slyness in his voice sent shivers down your spine. "I talked to others, so... You know, we've decided that if we ever move out, you can keep him."

"Thanks," you snickered, and Megumi was already grinning openly. "Go ahead and make the muffins. When ya're done, I'll go over to Dany's and then we'll practice tonight."

Megumi turned sharply toward you. "What?" he blurted out grumpily. "What do you mean 'I'll go over to Dany's'? What about me? Is this some kinda joke to you?" glaring angrily at you, he pointed at his clothes that were almost completely covered in chocolate mixture.

"Ya're not much of a diplomat," you teased, making a face at him. "I gotta feeling her out first, and then ya can talk without me. Now let's get to work," you nodded toward the bowl of dough. 

You stood under the boy's angry gaze for a few more seconds before he went back to making muffins in silence. It was a good thing Megumi was silent, because if he'd said a word, the laughter you were carefully suppressing would have burst out. 

It was a cute yet funny picture of Danielle weeding in the afternoon sun. The girl kept straightening the straw hat that had fallen off her head with her hands smeared in the ground – almost the same color as her bright sparkling hair.

You stood outside the backyard entrance, hesitant to open the wooden gate. Your hand clutched the package of homemade muffins - small but tasty - tighter to your chest, and the thought slipped into your head that if this treat won't help you, nothing would.

You opened the wicket with a deep breath, and Danielle reacted instantly, raising her head. Her hat flew off her head, and the girl, trying to steady it once again, stiffened in surprise. The hoe Dany was holding in her other hand fell to the ground along with the hat.

"Hey there, bun," you said, waving awkwardly at Danielle. "Before ya chase me away, I brought something in my defense," you informed jokingly, covering yourself with the treat package.

Maybe it was the physical exertion, but you wanted to believe that she did feel better. You wanted to squeeze her ruddy cheeks because in addition to the flushed red color, they had gotten a little chubbier. "Hey," you missed that kind tone and the way she was striding toward you to meet you. "I hope it's something edible," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

Relief spread through your body as Danielle held out her arms to you. You gladly hugged her in return. "Like I don't know ya," you whispered into her hair and heard a soft giggle. "Let's sit down," you suggested and pulled Dany by the arm toward the garden bench that stood neatly against the wall of the house. Barely dragging her feet, Danielle made her way over to the bench, leaning her limp body against the wall. You sat down next to her and put the package on her lap, but she didn't move, half lying there with her eyelids closed. "Frank forced ya into?" you asked sympathetically.

"Yeah," Dany exhaled exhaustedly. "But there's an upside to it!" she braved it cheekily, as much as her strength allowed. "While ya're doing all this shit, all ya can think about is that ya can't wait for it to be over," Danielle said before she could finish - a laugh forming on her lips, and you chuckled in unison with her tired but still gleeful laughter as you admired her.

"He forced me too until I was about twelve," you smirked.

"How did ya get to escape this plantation?" inquired Danielle enviously.

"I rioted," you said belligerently, and the two of you giggled again. "I ripped up everything that was growing in the beds and stomped on it. Frank was so mad," you said, sucking in air through your teeth.

"How did ya even stay alive?" worried Danielle. 

"Shaya saved me," you said, getting nostalgic. "She hid me behind her while Frank threatened to whip me."

"And Shaya didn't do anything to ya?" asked Dany incredulously.

"Nope," you shook your head. "She took me to my room, and when I asked what she was gonna do to me, she said I'd already punished myself," you exhaled convulsively, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I spent the whole night agonizing and thinking about her words, trying to figure out what she meant. I didn't realize until this morning. I was the one sowing and weeding those damn beds," Dany opened her eyes slightly. She was watching you from under half-open eyelids - at the way your gaze roamed the garden across from you. The girl rarely heard the longing in your voice, and every such moment returned with an unaccustomedness in her heart that made it beat faster. "I want ya come back home with me," you asked quietly.

"I want it, too," Danielle muttered in embarrassment, closing her eyes again.

Her desire was reflected in your phone. Not a single call, not a single message. "Why don't I keep ya as a garden slave for a couple more weeks?" you blurted out indignantly. "It gives ya a zeal, I see."

With eyes already wide open, Dany jumped up. The box nearly flew off her lap. "No!" she begged, looking up at you and clutching the package back to her.

"If ya want something, you have to say it," you muttered indignantly. "Ya'd better open it," you said, nodding toward the box. "Ya were hungry, weren't ya?"

With a hesitant nod, Danielle slowly unwrapped the package. She didn't know whether it was the sight of the ridiculous chocolate muffins or the tart but sweet smell that clouded her mind faster. She grabbed one and swallowed it whole, oblivious to herself or her own name. You mentally thanked Megumi for his decision to take the smaller baking dish.

You coughed meaningfully, slyly examining your nails in the sunlight. "Ya know, I didn't actually make them."

"What?" she whimpered excitedly with her mouth full. "I said I'd come back, but I didn't say anything about a relationship with Megumi-"

"Yeah, yeah," you sarcastically interrupted her, carelessly waving her words away. "Sure."

[June 19, 2020; 01:23am; hunters' hq]

Feeling the warmth of the couch was all your back had been asking for lately, and you'd been obediently fulfilling your body's desire despite your own. Your head rested peacefully in Kyle's lap, your eyes roaming the news feed on your phone.

You didn't notice how restlessly you fidgeted with your legs from time to time, not even the annoying sound of the soft material rustling could quiet you. Every time you fidgeted, you felt a soft scratching at the back of your head as you turned from one side to the other.

"What's wrong?" asked Kyle puzzled as you rolled over once again, sighing irritably.

"Everything's fine," you waved it off indifferently.

"Ya have a disgruntled face," he remarked, grinning.

You pulled yourself up and sat down, leaning back against the couch. "Rach only brought out two people," you rambled worriedly. "Only two, Kyle," you shoved a hand in his face with your index and middle finger raised. "That's an incredibly bad start."

Kyle intercepted your palm and kissed the pad of your finger. "Oh, come on," he laughed, looking at your perplexed face and releasing your hand. "It's a good start. She brought your new acquaintance out with her, by the way," he reminded you reasonably. "And Issu might bring more people out with him."

You turned and stared at the infirmary door, remembering the way Doc had slammed it shut in front of you and Kyle. Doc was an irritable, taciturn man, but the thought of how much work he'd have to do in the next few weeks made you shiver.

"...to the previous news. The incident that occurred in April this year in the nightclub N..."

Even though you were in your own thoughts, your skin began to itch painfully in places. You wanted to catch a glimpse of Nora, or Rachel, or that old lady whose name you couldn't ask - the old woman who'd come out of the void unconscious and ended up in the infirmary.

"...contacting the police station. Now, the police have suspended the investigation for unspecified reasons. In the following footage you can see a protest organized near the police station by the parents of the missing as well as concerned people..."

"Hey," Kyle called softly, tugging gently on your earlobe. You stirred, tore your gaze away from the infirmary door and dropped your head back into his lap. "Don't distress yourself. It's gonna be okay."

"I know," you exhaled gloomily. "It's just that I'm freaking out about being banned from the void and there's no way I can check to see if everything's okay."

"Oh, what bad guys we are," Kyle drawled sarcastically, pinching you again. "Taking care of your health."

"That's not what I meant," you muttered, waving his hands away. "Ya remember what Rach said after she came out of the void?"

"Yeah," Kyle nodded briefly. "That people are afraid to come out. They don't even believe Jonah."

"Exactly," you said. "Do ya remember any of this ever happening?" you tried to speak calmly, but you were out of breath.

"I'll still go on the raid after Issu, and I promise ya, I'll figure it out," he assured you softly, stroking your forehead with his thumb. "Don't worry."

"...at least twenty people. To date, eighteen of the missing have been identified..."

From the TV screen, neither pictures nor photographs looked at you. Ghosts. They wandered, hovering around you, but they dared not touch you. Against your better judgment, you felt their presence, felt their stares, felt even their silence. It felt like a dark silent whisper on your skin as if the ghosts were breathing right next to you. "Twenty-three," you said in a mesmerized whisper, looking at another picture of familiar features on the screen.

Kyle glanced fearfully at your face. It seemed pale in the light from the TV. "What?" he asked perplexedly.

You lifted yourself up again and sat up, tucking your legs under you, but you didn't do it as quickly as you had the first time. "Kyle, I haven't told ya everything," you said, guiltily hiding your gaze from his. "I think there's a diomorphea in there."

A second long silence made you look up. "Why didn't ya... Why didn't ya tell me at once?" there wasn't an ounce of accusation in his voice. Rather, a genuine misunderstanding of your disbelief.

"I was afraid ya'd tell Rach," you justified, looking at him dejectedly and shaking your head. "Ya know her, she would have just stormed in there and god knows what would have happened. Either she'd be dead, or a bunch of demons and with them the ones we're trying to save. Or both of it. I'm sorry," you shook your head harder.

Gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Kyle pulled you against him. "What did I promise ya just now?" he asked, leading you to think.

You rested your head on his shoulder, but you didn't dare take your eyes off the pictures. "That ya'll figure it out," you exhaled. "Kyle, ya can't keep fixing our fuck-ups forever."

"I'm your big brother," he grinned, stroking your back. "That's my job."

Wrapped in a blanket of warmth from a loved one, you couldn't help yourself. These people were still here with you, even if they didn't realize it. They were staring at you, drilling you, making you grit your teeth. You couldn't even cover your eyes because you'd just thought the russet-haired girl looking at you from the screen had blinked.

[June 20, 2020, 20:01, Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture]

As you made your way along the roads of the busy evening city, you kept looking at your phone, for only maps helped you not to get lost in the stone jungle. Even though there were signboards at every turn, all those bright colors combined with the abundance of symbols and running from side to side to avoid hitting anyone in the crowd of people made your head spin.

You couldn't count the number of crosswalks you'd crossed, you didn't want to think about how many of them you'd crossed for nothing. Your desperate attempt to find a nightclub had taken you to unfamiliar places, and you stopped and sighed disappointedly, staring at your phone again, completely oblivious to the people you might be interrupting.

Disappointment was immediately replaced by bewilderment when a name popped up on your phone instead of maps. "Yeah?" you said hesitantly, bringing the phone to your ear.

"I can't leave you alone even for a minute, huh?" resented Gojo. "Where did you go?"

"I...," you started in confusion, looking around. "Uh," you muttered, turning around the other way, looking for clues. "I think I'm somewhere in Tokyo's downtown, but I'm not quite sure."

An irritated tongue cluck was heard on the other end. "What do you see?"

"Hmm," you pondered, continuing on your way. "I see a dental clinic," you looked over the hospital sign and cast a glance back over your shoulder. "Behind me is the Minami Hotel, I guess?" puzzled, you stopped at a crossroad. "There's something else around the corner that looks like a park and playground-"   

Someone's arms went around your waist. "Boo!" they shouted in your ear, but you didn't even flinch, just squeezed your eyes shut at the loud sound. "Hey, you could at least look scared," came a cranky voice from behind you. 

You tilted your head up, and instead of an offended face, you were met with a bright smile. "What, in public?" you asked hesitantly.

Gojo rubbed his nose against your forehead. A brief gesture that sent warmth through your limbs. "I'm not shy about expressing my lo-"

"I mean about the teleport," you interrupted quickly.

With an irritated snort, he let you out of his arms and you moved forward. "So where are we going?"

"To a nightclub," you replied carelessly.

"At your age?" resented Gojo, wrinkling his nose. "It's a little too late for that." 

You paid no attention to his words, just continued to look around at the signs, completely oblivious to the fact that you now had a tour guide beside you. "Ya wouldn't happen to know anything about what happened at Nightclub N, would ya? It's still on the news, even though it happened back in April."

"Oh," stunned Gojo. "I was there day after, but no curses or cursed energy was there." 

"And ya didn't tell me?" you huffed, glaring at him judgmentally.

"I didn't even think about it," he admitted honestly, shrugging his shoulders. "And you weren't back then," Gojo glanced at you, and seeing no anger or disappointment on your face, he exhaled in relief. "So what are we doing?"

"It would be a good idea to start by talking," you reasoned, looking ahead. "I had Meg do some snooping, and she found out that it's not just visitors who've been hit, but employees too. One, at least."

"So-so information," he grudgingly opined.

"Maybe," you agreed. "Better than nothing, though."

Surprisingly, things did go faster with Gojo, and you didn't feel so lost in the dust of the big city. You'd been wandering around that nightclub all this time, but for some reason you'd ignored the turn into the courtyard. He took your hand in his and led you to the right place in a few minutes - the best guide ever. 

You pulled a wireless earphone out of the case and put it in your ear. "Meg, turn it off," you had only one answer to Gojo's questioning look. "Cameras," you explained with a shrug.

Nothing stands out - your first thought when you found yourself at the front doors. There weren't even any neon signs in this place - a simple gawker would easily miss a place like this in the night. While you pondered, Gojo walked to the door. Opening it, he gestured for you to come inside. 

The first thing you encountered as you walked down the hallway dotted with plastic vegetation was the hostess desk. A woman in a white dress seemed to be filling out something, paying no attention to you. "Ahem," you coughed quietly, stepping closer to the counter.

The girl raised her head. "I apologize," she said sincerely, bestowing a welcoming smile. Her gaze focused as if she had just been pulled out of her thoughts. You nodded understandingly in response.

The hostess stared at you for a second, then looked behind you. Her eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and a blush appeared on her snow-white cheeks. It was obvious without words who she was admiring. "I apologize," she repeated, barely moving her eyes to you. "We're only open from ten p.m. onwards. Would you like to make a reservation in the VIP area?" she handed you one of the sheets she'd just filled out. "You can look over the seating and choose the one that best suits you."

"That's not why we're here," you said quietly and the corners of the woman's lips slowly but surely crept down.

She glanced furtively toward the dance area, which was behind a decorative grid. The grid was covered with flowers, but you could see the bar, where someone was already standing and looking in your direction. "If you're journalists, just go away," she whispered anxiously.

You took the sheet from her hands, and began to pretend to consider the seating plan. "Ya misunderstand," you assured her. "I'm a private investigator, I was hired by one of the families of the missing," the hostess shifted a concerned yet questioning look to Gojo. "Don't worry, it's just my comp-"

"Her husband," he stated, putting his arm around your shoulders. "Just family business."

"Well, or so...," you muttered, sighing. 

"Mochi, have you already chosen where we're gonna sit?" his voice was already too ringing at times, but this time it was as if Gojo was deliberately speaking louder than usual. "Smile," he addressed the girl, and in contrast, his words sounded very quiet. You glimpsed again at the bars - it seemed that those who stood there had ceased to be interested in you.

She put on a duty smile. "Reservations are optional if you want to visit the dance area," she said in a minted but sweet tone.

You pretended to stroke Gojo's forearm that wrapped around your collarbones. In one deft motion, you pulled the picture from inside pocket, placing it under the sheet you were holding. Placing the paper on the counter, you tapped a random spot. "I think we'll sit here," you pushed the sheet away. "Do ya know her?" your quite question caused the girl's ribcage to begin to heave heavily when she saw the russet-haired girl. You mentally scolded her for potentially attracting unnecessary attention. "She worked here." 

"Did her parents hire you?" the hostess fought her inner emotions for an outward smile. "I don't know," she whispered fearfully, though she was still smiling full-mouth. "I really don't know anything," her eyes glittered dangerously, and you carefully covered the picture with the paper. "Please, go away."

"Thanks," you said loudly and cheerfully, backing away from the counter. "See ya later," you nodded her goodbye and took Gojo's hand, and you headed toward the exit. 

Barely waiting until you were on the other side of the glass doors, he stopped right in front of you. "So that's it?" he lamented. "We're just gonna leave like this?"

"No need to draw unnecessary attention. She was scared enough. I thought she was about to cry," you sighed doomfully. "But I left her phone number on the back of the picture."

"Okay," he drawled, smiling slyly. "Now what?"

After sneaking through a narrow alleyway and soiling your clothes in wet dust, you wandered around the back of the police station. Stopping at the wall of an adjacent building, you decided to exhale and think. Why was the hostess so scared? If it wasn't the employees at the bar, then who was standing there during off hours? Moreover, why did the girl only shake harder when she saw the picture?

From Gojo's perspective and in his opinion, you looked suspicious - two subjects loitering in the back of a police station. What was he supposed to do when he heard the back door click? Nothing but that - that's how he reassured himself as he pressed you against the wall. "Just play along, 'kay?" he whispered, facing your panicked incomprehension - you'd been pulled from your thoughts too abruptly. 

You nodded hesitantly, but you weren't reassured by his plan or his actions. For the moment Gojo cupped your cheek, you felt that his fingers trembled. "Have you ever kissed?" you couldn't hear the inherent curiosity in his voice, the only thing you could catch among the words he spoke was sincerity. "Take it off," he demanded, leaning his forehead against yours. "Take off your mask," his words and actions became more insistent - his hand pressed you against him with such force that it was physically hard to breathe. 

"Hey!" a sharp exclamation gave you the strength to push him away from you. "Girl, are you okay?" the police officer asked, flicking ash off his cigarette.

"Yeah," you assured him. "W-we just... Uh, we just forgot ourselves a little. I'm sorry," you said, taking another step away from Gojo.

"Kids...," the officer muttered. "You should go home and do this sort of thing," he admonished. Taking one last puff, the policeman put out the cigarette butt, tossed it in the trash can, and went inside.

"Uh, well," you sighed, making up for the lack of oxygen. Looking around the wall of the one-story police station, you noticed that there were two windowless passages - probably one of those rooms was what you needed.

Carefully making sure no one was looking in your direction from the windows, you moved closer to the wall, Gojo's confusion replaced in an instant by a prick of anger. He was immensely resilient, but even he was beginning to tire of your behavior. It was as if nothing had ever happened.

"And how would we get there?" you muttered to yourself, squinting at the brickwork.

Of course, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease you. It was beyond him. "What, are you out of energy because of your shaky legs?" he asked in a teasing tone, coming up behind you.

"No, it's just that I can't teleport to a point I haven't seen before," your seriousness made him roll his eyes so hard he could have sworn he saw his own brain. "There could be anything in there, after all. A box, another wall, or an iron pole. And I don't really wanna become a part of that."

"What a weakling you are," Gojo grimaced, grabbing you under the armpits and lifting you into the air. When he released you, you were already standing on the floor. Indoors.

It was dark here - not a single light bulb shone, but even so you could make out a bunch of metal lockers against the walls, a few long benches, and some scattered things. Locker room. No hits. Next room across the hall, then.

You went to the door and stood still, listening. There were no voices, no footsteps, no rustling. You gripped the knob and pulled gently, turning it. When the door wouldn't budge, you applied force and pulled a few more times. Nothing.

A tired, condescending sigh came from behind you. Gojo grabbed your shoulder and pulled you aside, then grabbed the handle of the door and opened it with a quiet crack.

In the darkness, you met only his arrogant smile. "Congratulations," you said sarcastically. "When they see this, everyone will realize someone's been loitering around here." 

"And this is your gratitude?" whispered Gojo indignantly. 

Instead of answering and bickering, you grabbed his hand and dragged him as quietly as possible down the hallway in the right direction. When you came to the next door, he moved you into the room without thinking or warning.

That's what it took to get to the evidence room, but it didn't look the way you'd imagined. The shelves were more for show, for there were boxes and packages scattered carelessly on them, just as there were on the floor.

Gojo picked up one of the clear bags, and after looking it over, handed it to you. You grinned approvingly when you saw the date and place written in black marker. 

You silently began to scour the shelves and floor in search of at least the year you needed. The place was a mess, but systematicity still seemed from around the corner, slyly peering at what you were doing. You had already made it to January, and not wanting to miss anything, you took your time. "What makes you think demons are involved here anyway?" asked Gojo, setting another box aside. 

"I saw them," you replied, scrutinizing the dates. "I saw those people right before I came out of the void."

"That's how," he replied, catching a glimpse of you. His tense shoulders relaxed every time he saw you start to put on weight. He'd already gone through almost the entire March, and after tossing aside a few more unwanted plastic bags, he got to the right one. "Hey," he quietly called out to you. "Is this it?"

You took the box in your hands.

#413091

April 6, 2020

Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture, Nightclub N

Sealed

"It is," you answered without much joy. As you weighed the box in your hands, you looked up at Gojo with a puzzled look. "What kinda mockery is this?" you asked warily, setting the overly light box on the floor. Breaking the seal and opening it, you pursed your lips in frustration.

There was almost nothing, just a few cigarette butts with lipstick marks, a couple of bottles, a folding knife, bloody napkins, but, remarkably, one bag of white pills. "Not only did the police shut down the investigation, but the club was still working while the investigation was ongoing, now there's no evidence. Who's protecting them?" you wondered, reaching for the bag of pills.

"Probably the one who dragged people into the void," Gojo suggested, trying to find anything else on the bottom. 

"Well, or at least someone closely associated with them. It wouldn't be a bad idea to find the owner of the club," you considered the pills, but there was nothing remarkable on them. Just a pure white color. "If the owner is aware of what's going on and he isn't a fool, there's probably some subsidiary company attached to the club, followed by the parent company, and the real names in that holding company are no longer to be found," you opened the bag and held it up to your nose. Nothing. Frowning puzzled, you slipped the packet to Gojo. "Smell anything?"

As soon as he brought it to his face, he immediately pulled it away, pinching his nostrils. "God... The smell is nice, but it's so pungent that...," he stammered, wiping away the tears that came to his eyes. "Put that away," he said and threw the bag at you.

You caught him deftly, and you and the pills stared at each other. The gears of your mind whirred again. You knew of only one demon capable of such brazen machinations right in front of everyone's eyes. If the pills contained black orchid that didn't bode well because in small quantities it was like a drug that induced a state of euphoria, and judging by the number of pills, the demon was obviously not alone in that club.

You glanced at the broken seal - eventually they'd find out that someone had been digging around here. The question was whether they'd find out who it was. "Let's get out of here," you said to Gojo and was about to move towards the door, but with the edge of your thief eye you caught a shine. "O-oh, what do we have here," you drawled mesmerized, reaching for the sealed bag containing the necklace. 

"Are you crazy?" blustered Gojo, intercepting your hands. "We're not stealing evidence!" you snorted meekly but grudgingly, wrenching your hands free and quickly hiding them in your pockets, which made him squint his eyes suspiciously. "Empty your pockets," Gojo demanded in a commanding tone, to which you only flinched. "I said empty them!" he exclaimed, and despite your resistance, he did find what he was looking for, but not under the right conditions. A pair of gold rings. Gasping with indignation, he tossed them farther into a pile of boxes. "We're not stealing evidence! Geez, adults once told me not to get with the wrong crowd, but here I am," he whimpered, running a hand through his snow-white hair. 

As he lamented, you couldn't stop the process - thoughts raced, each one trying to overtake the other. You couldn't hear the key turning in the locks or the quiet footsteps because of the silent noise. "Hands up," you raised your head, only to be met with an unfamiliar face and a gun pointed in your direction. "I said hands up!"

"Hey, hey," you justifiably rambled, raising your hands. "We can explain-"

"We?" barked the police officer. "Girl, are you out of your mind?" You barely had time to turn your head back before you heard the safety click, but even that couldn't alarm you as much as the realization that there was no one behind you. "Face the wall," the officer ordered, muzzle pointing at the wall.

You went obediently to the wall, and when you were almost there, you were pushed against it. Holding you by the neck with one hand, the policeman snapped your arms, and there was a clinking sound. Handcuffs.

If someone asked you at the beginning of the day how you'd spend your evening, you could list a bunch of options - watching a TV show, meeting with insiders, chasing the next artifact, sitting around a campfire with Kyle or Rachel, having a cup of tea or even a glass of wine - but you'd never guess how you'd actually spend it.

Part of your evening consisted of traveling to the holding cell at gunpoint.

When your handcuffs were removed, your phone, belt and earrings were taken away, the bars slammed shut behind you with a deafening clang. You pressed your face between the steel bars. "Hey," you called out to the departing cop. "I'm entitled to one phone call."

"Why don't you get a lawyer, too?" snickered the duty officer.

"Preferably. But ya'll need it if ya don't let me call," you said nonchalantly, keeping a friendly attitude.

Of course, you could have vanished from the cell as soon as he left, but you didn't want to be known as a fugitive on news programs across the country.

The man paused for a moment, thinking about something, and then turned back to you. With his piercing gaze boring into you and his hand on his holster, he handed you the phone, and as soon as you picked it up, it rang.

You shrugged your shoulders and backed away from the bars to avoid having it taken from you. "That'll count as your call," the man warned you.

You brought the phone to your ear, mentally preparing yourself for what awaited you. "Say please," Gojo scoffed from the other side. "Come on," he coaxed, taunting you. "Say please and maybe I'll get you out." 

"I hope ya're pleased with yourself," were all the words that you could muster, stepping over your pride. "Please."

You heard neither confirmation nor another round of teasing; only short beeps. Despondently, you handed the phone to the officer, and as long as you had strength left, you clung to the iron bars and listened to every action that took place. The police officer seemed to be watching something, and every now and then, you heard the clatter of a mug against the table.

It seems like five minutes or fifteen have passed - you can't count in a cramped cell without a clock. The front door slammed, and loud footsteps sounded. "Please excuse my wife," a familiar chirp tickled your ears. "She's having a seasonal exacerbation."

***

You had already traveled a great distance, leaving the police station behind, but you hadn't said a word, which amused Gojo and worried him at the same time. Anyway, you still let him hold your hand, which meant you weren't that angry.

He was annoyed that he couldn't read your emotions because half of your face was hidden - it was like ripping half of a book out before he could read the rest of it. The question was no longer whether you were angry or hurt, but did you feel anything at all? "Well," he began slyly. "Are you gonna sulk like that?" 

"I can't believe it," you said reproachfully, shaking your head. "Ya left me. Ya left me, abandoned me, humiliated me-"

"Is that how you talk to the man who bailed you out?" laughing, he stopped and stood right in front of you.

"It was a bribe!" you retorted indignantly.

"I'd do it again," he admitted solemnly, looking haughtily and cheerfully into your eyes.

"I know," you whispered. "But I thought we were best friends," he didn't notice the triumph replaced by panic the first time he saw your wounded gaze.

"No, no," he rambled anxiously, gently cupping your cheeks. "It's just a joke, really, I was just kidding-"

"I would never do that to ya," you managed to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. You wrapped your palm around his - the one that pressed harder against your face. You bit your lip in frustration. "I would never leave ya," seeing the glint in your averted gaze made everything inside him flip - from his soul to his organs. That wasn't the kind of glint he wanted to see. "I know I don't act the way ya'd like me to sometimes, but- Oh," your face changed immediately, from sadness to pure curiosity, and you let go of his hands and stepped around him, heading somewhere.

He was one-step away from bursting into tears himself, but your actions have left him stumped. After a moment of standing as if you were still here, he turned around. You were striding briskly toward the huge red glowing sign that read 'Spicy Dumplings'.

One might have thought that this was not enough to stomp on his heart, but then, as luck would have it, he thought that it had become too light in his pocket. His purse were missing. "Seriously?" he sighed, throwing his head back and staring up at the night sky covered in light noise. "There are so many people in the world, why her?" the stars were hidden - the stars were silent.

Megumi had seen his reflection in the mirror countless times and just as many times he'd experienced nothing - a man like a man, a person who didn't stand out, but now, as Kyle walked around him in circles with a measuring tape around his neck and pins stuck in his shirt, the boy felt genuinely excited.

Even though Megumi felt like a mannequin being abused, occasionally getting needles under his skin by accident, he still thought it was worth it. Megumi glanced at the mask made for him. Even without filters, it looked heavy, but the precise curves of its rigid material made it somewhat dangerous.

The boy jerked when Kyle once again grazed the skin on his shoulder with the pin. "Sorry," Kyle muttered. "I'm not very good at this."

"Then why don't others do it?" grunted Megumi, staring at himself in the mirror again.

The man only chuckled - no offense intended. "May I remind ya," he began softly in between. "Ya don't have to do this."

"I know," Megumi replied stubbornly. "I don't know how to do anything else, though."

"Do ya?" wondered Kyle sincerely. "What, no hobbies?"

Megumi looked at Kyle as if he was hearing those words for the first time. The man pressed his lips together understandingly and continued his tailor's work. Seeing another section of loosely dangling fabric, he pinched it down the boy's body and secured it with a pin. "Ya know, when ya get back, we can go fishing with together," he suggested light-heartedly, pulling out the now unnecessary needle and, finding no better option, jammed it between his teeth. "Or I could teach ya how to play the guitar," as Kyle cheerfully enumerated, Megumi only frowned his eyebrows harder. "In a pinch, we can weave beaded bracelets with ya," he laughed and his soft, deep voice floated around the room. "Okay, well, try this on," Kyle said, handing him the mask.

The mask was a little heavier than it looked, and Megumi held it for a moment before taking a deep jagged breath and leaning it against his face. The mask, making a clicking sound, sat perfectly. "How's that? Fine?" inquired Kyle, not giving up on trying to get Megumi to talk.

"Yeah," Megumi replied indifferently, and his voice came strangled and mechanical, but Kyle was used to that. "Just hot in this uniform."

"That's what ya saying now," Kyle pointed out. "Ya'll thank me a hundred times in the void."

"You?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

The room went up in flames in an instant as if everything was lit up in red flames, but barely had the flash subsided when Megumi saw that it was Kyle's hands that were burning. "Me," Kyle said cheekily but still jokingly. "I'm the one in charge of thermoregulation here."

Megumi stared mesmerized at the man's hands - a second ago, they were still burning, burning as bright and hot as his disheveled gut. "I want that, too," the boy muttered quietly.

"Too, huh?" Kyle smirked meaningfully. "So ya okay with everything else?" turning away in embarrassment, Megumi tried to pull the mask off, but it wouldn't budge. He kept tugging at it while Kyle watched his desperate attempts. "Lemme help ya, you're gonna rip your face off," the man offered. "There are buttons on the sides," he informed, pulling the mask off the boy.

"You couldn't tell me before, could you?" an indignant Megumi panted, rubbing the line of his chin.

"My bad. Sorry," Kyle couldn't help it - the smile wouldn't leave his face. "By the way, uh… How's it going... with Dany?"

Megumi hated it when someone poked their nose into his life, much less his personal life. Shutting down, withdrawing into himself was the first reaction brought on by years of building up an internal psychology, but now that Megumi saw the unfamiliar warm gaze, he was glad that there was at least one person who was genuinely interested in his inner state. "I don't know, she doesn't talk to me," the boy said sullenly. "It would be better if she just told me she doesn't like me anymore," he added quietly.

"And how is that better?"

"Then I'd know for sure I don't stand a chance anymore," Megumi despaired. "I've been trying to catch up to her in training, but she's even running faster than me. I can't look for her in these damn woods," Megumi muttered, pulling off the top of his uniform and handing the fabric to Kyle.

Kyle knew that he shouldn't laugh at problems - neither big ones, nor small ones, nor their description. He was trying his best to remain silent now, only nodding significantly. "Well...," he drawled. "So there's definitely motivation to train even harder now."

"People have their limits," Megumi frowned, tugging on his home t-shirt with a jerk. "I think I've reached mine."

"Ya'd best remember well what ya just said," the man said sternly. "Remember it well and forget it. Otherwise, if I hear ya say that again, we'll stop training ya."

"And I'll continue without you," Megumi stubbornly persisted. "I may not be in control of it yet, but with or without you, I can still walk into the void."

"And die," Kyle finished for him, though the boy's sentence didn't require it. "Ya know what that's called? Cut off nose to spite face," seeing Megumi's haggard face, Kyle softened. "Come on," he paternally patted the boy on the top of his head. "How about this. When ya get back, I'll set up a rendezvous for ya and Dany."

Megumi hummed incredulously, shifting from foot to foot. "Can you really make it?"

Kyle didn't know what he was signing up for. Persuading a stubborn girl and trying to change her mind was a deep hole that couldn't be climbed out of with walls or even a ladder, but when he saw the faint smile flash across Megumi's face, he knew it was worth it. "I'll try."

You were already cooing with the waiter when you'd been apart for a minute – that was what Gojo saw in his mind, distorted by an unknown feeling. When the corners of your eyes crinkled once more, he felt an unfamiliar tingle under his ribs. It was directed, burning. 

In two strides, he'd covered the distance from the front door to the table you were at and plopped down across from you. "Baby, could you not run away from me like that anymore?" shifting his gaze from you to the waiter, it went from soft to steely, all the blue was gone. The waiter was embarrassed by his direct gaze, and after glancing at you and seeing your nod, he hurriedly retreated to the kitchen. "So much for service," he muttered, looking after the waiter. "I didn't even order anything."

"I ordered ya mild shrimp dumplings and two cheesecakes," you said, looking at his profile - something in the air felt spicy from more than just the smell of the local sauce.

He didn't realize whether he liked it or not that you knew him well, the only thing that bothered and hurt him was that he didn't know you. Not even that. He knew something about you, but only from other people's words and among them was none of yours. "Well?" he inquired, finally turning in your direction. "What's next?" 

"Cholesterol plaques," you chirped in pleasant anticipation. "I've been eating nothing but soup and porridge for weeks now, one more day like this and I'll hang myself."

"I'd look at that," Gojo drawled detachedly.

"Is something wrong?" you worried. "It's like ya angry."

He was silent for a few more good moments, staring out the window and tapping his finger on his chin. "Frank told me you've been missing for three years. What have you been doing?" you swallowed all the words out of surprise and stared at him stunned. "What?" asked Gojo indifferently. "You know everything about me, I know nothing about you. That's not very fair." 

"It's not like I have a choice," you tried to gently remind him.

"Really?" his voice remained calm, but it still made you want to squirm in your seat. "My negligent students tied you up and made you listen to all the facts about me?"

"It's dif-"

"Different, yeah," he interrupted, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair - away from you. An inner voice yelled at him to shut his mouth, too bad Gojo was deaf at that moment. "Tell me, what does human meat taste like? I heard somewhere that it tastes like chicken, is that true?" your heart was definitely tied with fishing line and started to squeeze, and if not, why did you feel like blood was dripping off it? "Oh, come on," he laughed, seeing the subtle change on your face. "Well, you ate a couple people, who among us is not without sin?" 

You looked around, almost unable to see anything through the haze, but there didn't seem to be anyone near you. "If we don't shut this down, I'm gonna eat ya too," you tried to guffaw, keeping your face straight. "Alive."

"I'm just trying to get to know you better," Gojo stared at you, trying to catch everything he could - gestures, facial expressions, anything. Every time he caught something he wanted, satisfaction involuntarily spread through his body. Paradoxically, the thought of enjoying it made him sick, but he couldn't help it - your hypocrisy was wearing him down. You were the one who'd first said you'd never revisit the subject, and yet every day with every unspoken word, you reminded Gojo that you didn't trust him. "I get that you're trying to seem mysterious, but have you ever wondered how it looks?" he chuckled sarcastically. "You look like a wretched runaway," you sat up, listening and memorizing every word. "Maybe I should tell you what happens to people who don't open up to anyone?" he leaned closer to you as if he wanted to tell you a secret that was known only to him. "Let me better demonstrate, though," Gojo got up from the table, and still looking at you, distanced himself a couple steps away. "Look at that," he snapped his fingers, pointing to his now empty seat and grinned contentedly. "You're all alone."  

Gojo didn't try to get to know you better because then he could have asked you what your favorite color was, or movie, or music, but no. He got under your skin. Deliberately and painfully, choosing words that scratched and bit, and you didn't even have time to ask 'why' because his back, which had already disappeared behind the front door, would hardly have answered your question.   

[June 30, 2020, 23:14, hunters' hq]

[10:59pm] You: We are going on a raid in an hour

[10:59pm] You: Megumi will text ya when he gets back

This message, like the previous ones, remained delivered but unread. Looking at it again, you went back to your routine. Books, lots of medical supplies, and more dry rations were what lay on the table. You and Kyle spread it all out into gym bags as compactly as possible, good thing you could carry twice as much into the void this time - thanks to your new apprentice.

Worries and doubts scrabbled at your mind as you put another packet of ibuprofen in your bag - did you tell Megumi everything you wanted to? Had you conveyed everything to him? Did he understand everything? The only thing you knew for sure was that you couldn't let him out of your sight. The first few times, at least.

You never missed an opportunity to remind the boy that if anything went wrong, he should run and not look back, and each time you said it aloud, you caught an increasingly annoyed look in his eyes. You believed that at the right moment, your words would play an annoying song in Megumi's head and he would do what you wanted him to do, even if it was against his own will. "Okay," Kyle pulled you out of your thoughts. "I got rid of most of the wardens, but others could come, be careful," he admonished you for the umpteenth time. "Remember they have been abused badly, more so than the others have ever told us, that's why they so afraid to come in contact. But I've prepared the ground," he poked you quietly with his shoulder. "Since Rachel took out three people, Issu will probably take out as many more, which means there will be at least two more in the hut," he wasn't discouraged, and you hummed in response.  "Well," Kyle began in between, seeing your state of mind. "He still hasn't called?"

"Busy, I guess," at this point you ratted yourself out, for your brother didn't even give a name.

"I bet," Kyle muttered, pressing the contents of the bag to make some more room. "Why is your face long?"

"Not long, but focused," you brushed it off.

"Yeah, as ya say. Ya've been frowning for over a week. Even if I can't see it, I can feel it. And he hasn't been here in all that time," even though Kyle didn't like Gojo, there was a touch of sympathy in his voice. "What happened between ya two?" 

"Nothing happened," you retorted. "And nothing's gonna happen," you added, softening. "He just... Dunno, he just got mad all of a sudden. Maybe it's because I don't tell him anything about me or what happened to me," you sighed sadly, your actions becoming slower and moodier.

Kyle was angry. You'd never told anyone anything, not even your loved ones, so where did Gojo get this idea of his uniqueness? "He'll get over it," he muttered. "If he doesn't, the hell with him. Let him cling to someone else." 

"Ya'd be happy to," you said, grinning slyly. Maybe there was truth to Kyle's words, but you couldn't wash away that sticky acrid feeling with water or soap. Gojo must have felt the same way then. You were both disappointed in you. "We forgot the sugar," you said, going through the supplies on the table. "I'll get it." 

At your brother's concerned look, you walked out of the workroom, went up the stairs and down the hallway. You were already a foot away from the fridge, only the sickening feeling of suddenly soaked socks made you cringe. "What the...," you squeaked, taking a step back.

There was water under the refrigerator. In spite of the puddle, you walked over to it and jerked open the door - not even a light bulb on. "Great," you mumbled to the empty room, and jerked the door back shut.

As if you didn't have enough troubles already, now you had to buy a new fridge. You liked it, though. It might be red, it might have daisies on it, but you were too used to it. "How much longer ya gonna look for sugar?" Kyle asked rhetorically, leaning against the doorjamb and watching you search the drawers for a rag. "Come on," he walked over to you, putting his arm around your shoulders to ward off all the fuss. Kyle glanced first at the refrigerator and then at the puddle that had spread beneath it. "That thing was barely hanging on. I'll walk ya out, and then I'll clean this place up."

Something was pressing against your shoulders. It clearly wasn't Kyle's hands. They might have looked massive, but everyone close to him knew how gentle the man could be.

The door creaked open on the second floor. "Please don't go," a pleading voice made your heart clench. "Ya're not ready yet, ya've had too little practice," came the sound of footsteps - some hurried, others hesitant.

Everything fell into place when the two persons finally came down - Megumi and Daniel. She grabbed his sleeve, asking him to stop, but he didn't even look in her direction. Yanking his arm out of her weak grip, he stood beside you. "Y/N," the girl pleaded. "Please tell him he's not ready."

"But I already told him he's coming with me today."

"W-what?" she asked in a stammering voice, looking at you as if you'd plunged a dagger under her ribs. "No-no-no," she shook her head desperately. "Why didn't ya ask me?"

You raised an eyebrow uncomprehendingly. "Should I have?" you asked indifferently. "If ya'd given him a chance to talk to ya once, maybe ya would have found out sooner."

"Don't ya fucking dare put the blame on me!" she shouted, and the outburst made the tears she'd been holding back roll down her cheeks. "Ya owed it to me to tell me!" her ringing voice began to break. "Ya took my mother away from me," she muttered. "Y-ya took my father from me," she continued to squeeze the words out of her through all the pain and hardship. "Now ya want him too?"

"Dany, not in public-"

"Not in public?!" she yelled. "He could die out there and all ya're worried about is me telling about your sins?" she laughed bitterly, wiping her wet face with her hands.

"Megumi, go to the workroom," you said softly, nudging him toward the exit. The boy hesitated a few steps and stopped, but you weren't looking at him.

"Now ya wanna take my boyfriend too," it wasn't a question anymore. It was a statement. A weak, quiet assertion.

"Dany, please calm down," Kyle gently tried to reassure her, cautiously stepping closer to her. "Megumi's gonna be fine-"

"Back off," she pulled away sharply from Kyle.

"Should I mention that he's no longer your boyfriend?" if there had been thread in the room, you would have sewn your mouth shut. There weren't, though. "You dumped him, remember?"

Danielle's rage didn't disappear - it just became as quiet as the girl's tears. "I hate ya," the words were almost impossible to hear, but you understood everything from her barely moving lips. "I hate ya so much that not even your death will make me love ya again."

Before she turned away from you, you saw the helpless anger in her eyes. You watched in a daze as she went up to the second floor on weak legs and then disappeared from sight. "Dany," Kyle called out to her, forcing you out of your stupor.

You quickly followed her upstairs and sighed as you realized you hadn't made it in time - the door to her room had already slammed shut. You banged on it with all your might. "Dany, open up!" instead of the usual words or silence, you were met with a ragged sob. You and Kyle looked over at each other anxiously. "Danielle!" you groaned again. "If you don't open it, I'm gonna kick the fucking door down!" you warned.

Your eyes blurred as her sobs subsided.

There was a rustle of sheets followed by quiet footsteps. The lock of the door clicked.

You were greeted by your loved one's face, but it was very different from the one you'd seen in the kitchen. No more anger, no more rage - just disheveled blond hair, red puffy eyelids, and grief. "Dany, I-"

You were interrupted by your own phone, and you almost whimpered in frustration. You glanced at the screen, and the evening's call from that person didn't bode well. It was Rachel.

"Answer it," she said weakly. "It must be very important," you didn't get a word out before she closed the door quietly in your face. Kyle turned the knob with a barely perceptible movement to leave a small gap.

You pressed the screen with force, and only a miracle saved it from cracking. "Speak," you snapped into the phone.

"Ah- H-hey," even if Rachel hadn't stuttered, you'd have realized she was drunk. "I can't re- relocate. I can't catch a cab either. Get me out of here," she whined.

"Okay, Kyle will pick you up-"

"No!" she yelled into the phone. "If ya don't get me out of there, I swear ya will be no longer my fucking sister," Rachel hissed.

"Rach, I've got a raid-"

"I'm supposed to care about that?" she hiccupped angrily. "Kyle always has to do everything for ya, doesn't he? Kyle this, Kyle that- Hey! Hey, asshole!," she was still yelling, but her voice was muffled. "Ya blind? No? Then maybe I'm nothing to ya?"

You and Kyle looked at each other grimly - even from here, your brother could hear the mayhem going on at the other end of the phone. The crack of wood, broken glass, shouts, muffled thuds - you squinted your eyes at every sound. "Hey," Rachel's voice was back to ringing, distinct and drunken. "Anyway, pick me up already. I rarely see ya, I feel like I don't even have a sister."

You didn't get a chance to ask where she was. Rachel just dropped the call. "What kinda day is this," you whispered in a broken, shaky whisper, rubbing your hot forehead with the palm of your hand, still staring at the phone screen.

Kyle wrapped his fingers around your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "Go," he ordered, trying to ignore your glistening eyes. "It's okay, just go get Rachel."

"But what about-"

"Today was supposed to be my shift anyway," he reminded you, hugging you. "Ya'll just go after me."

"Alright, then tell Megumi we'll be leaving in three days," you nodded briefly, snuggling up to him.

"Nah, he's waited long enough," he laughed. "I can't stand the even more sullen face he has now," feeling you clinging to his t-shirt, he tried to reassure you as best he could and knew how. He pulled you even tighter against him and burrowed into your hair. "It's been so long," he whispered. "It's high time ya learned to believe in us."

"Okay," you exhaled raggedly, unable to tear yourself away from your brother. "Take care of him. Take care of yourself, too. Please," the glimpse of black streaks creeping up your fingers made you pull away from him. Kyle kissed your forehead briefly, but you felt his lips linger on your skin a little longer than usual.

You took a couple steps away from him, and after taking another look at him, you turned around and headed for the stairs. "Y/N?" he called out to you.

You were so expecting it that you turned to him again without thinking. "Yes?" you asked with hope in your voice.

He winked slyly. "See ya," he waved goodbye, and you caught the glint of his silver bracelet.

"See ya," you giggled, waving back at him.  

As you walked away, you tried to keep a confident gait, but some thing pressed on your shoulders again.

Half the bar was trashed, no customers, only one redheaded girl sitting on a stool with her head on the table, either asleep or unconscious. After leaving Kyle, you called her a dozen times, and on the millionth call, you were swearing at everyone and everything. After you'd gotten her on the phone through your despair, you'd gotten her address, and there you were, standing there, among the shards of mugs and chips from tables and chairs.

Under the wary gaze of the man in the black shirt, you walked over to Rachel and shook her by the shoulder. She mumbled inarticulately. "Do you know her?" he asked sternly.

"Yeah," you replied indifferently, still trying to rouse your sister.

"All right," said the manager. "Then I'm calling the police," he informed.

"Please don't get the police," you begged resignedly. "I'll pay for everything, just... Really, let's not do that. I'll leave you a phone number," you said, picking up one of the surviving napkins from the table and turning around to face the man. "Do you have a pen?"

He looked at you incredulously from head to toe, but your earrings seemed to convince him. He handed you a pen, and you quickly wrote your number on a napkin. "Here," you held out the phone number to him. "You can check it out."

Done. He dialed the number you had written, and your phone rang. "I'll send you the bill," the manager said formally. "Now get her out of here before she trashes the surviving half of the bar."

"Yeah, just...," you swallowed uncertainly. "I'll just bring her to her senses," the manager nodded, but didn't move. When you looked at your sister again, rage came over you, but remembering that you were in a public place, you immediately nipped it in the bud.

Grabbing Rachel by the scruff of her neck, you dragged her into the restroom. She struggled sluggishly and mumbled something, but you paid no attention. Kicking open the door, you tossed her right into the sink. "Did ya have fun, bitch?" with helplessness, your voice started to break again. You opened the faucet, and to your delight, ice-cold water came out of it.

You held Rachel's hair with your hand and tried to keep her head close to the stream, otherwise she'd just slide to the floor; with your other hand you scooped up the water and smeared it right over her drunken red face. "Do ya even remember ya have a son? Why aren't ya at his place?" you began to gasp along with her - she from the water, you from despair.

"I can't see him-" she stammered and choked, and you wondered if it was really the alcohol, the water, or her own words. "I-I'm gonna throw up," she practically forced the words out of her, choking on the water.

Whimpering, you pulled her hair and dragged her straight to the toilet stall. As soon as her head was bent over the toilet, everything started coming out of her. She coughed and spit, and you held her unruly hair back, even though the only thing you wanted to do right now was drown her in her own vomit. "Are ya having fun now? Do ya like living like this?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, and the sounds of vomiting were heard again. "I... I won't do it again."

You bit your lip, almost tearing it off - how many times had you heard those words, and there was no truth to them, like wandering through a dark forest without a light, looking for a path. It was the same thing over and over again. "Wait here," you said, not sure why - she couldn't have disappeared in her condition.

Leaping out of the restroom and grabbing the first whole glass you could find, you went back in and filled it with water. "Drink," you commanded, shoving the glass under your sister's nose.

"I don't wanna," she tried to push your hand away weakly.

"I said drink," you grabbed her hair again, forcing her face up. As the water poured into her open mouth, Rachel leaned over the toilet again, choking.

They didn't want to leave you alone, the ringing of the phone hit your ears again, making you grit your teeth. "Speak."

"Young lady, what kinda tone is that?" resented Frank. Your insides dropped as you felt Rachel was about to throw up again.

"Sorry, Frank, I didn't see who was calling," you said absently, turning away and putting the receiver away from the source of the noise. "Look, lemme call ya back in an hour, 'kay? We're just at the bar with Rachel, it's not really convenient to talk right now."

"One hour," the man snorted angrily and hung up.

"Thanks," Rach mumbled and as you watched this, you slid down the wall, falling to the cold tile. Looking at her sweaty face and the wet red strands sticking to it, you were furious that you couldn't do anything about it. But if you couldn't do anything about it, then why were you even bothering with it? "I kinda feel better," she mumbled more clearly already, wiping her lips. "Let's go home."

Sighing, you grabbed her under the armpits, forcing her to stand. Rachel leaned on you like a personal prop, and you waddled away from the bar to the judgmental stares. When you reached the alley, you pulled your sister tighter against you.

"Relocate."  

You fell onto the soft bed in your sister's room just as you'd been in the alley a second ago - tired, in dirty clothes and shoes. When you sensed something wrong, you moved Rach to the edge of the bed and rolled her onto her side, and went to the bathroom to get a basin, pour some water into a glass, and grab some micellar water.

Before Rachel threw up again, you managed to put the basin on the floor. Putting everything else on the nightstand, you began to undress her. Clumsily pulling off her sneakers, you couldn't lift her torso to pull down her pants. "Help me already," you groaned, tugging at her legs.

Grumbling to herself, Rachel lifted her hips, and you yanked off her jeans with. You realized you didn't have the energy for outerwear - let her sleep like that. Rach was still stirring restlessly, apparently never having fallen into slumber.

You sat down next to her, and after soaking a cotton ball in micellar water, you began to wash off her makeup. "Ya mad?" she asked weakly.

"Not really," you lied, trying not to take the anger out on her face.

You were smearing mascara and eyeliner all over her cheeks, and no one really knew how much absorbent cotton and micellar water it took you to wash it all off. Rachel was already breathing normally, though she was lying in an uncomfortable position - her right arm oddly bent over her face. But she seemed to be asleep.

You rolled her onto her side again, and praying that she would stay that way until morning and not choke on her own vomit, tried to crawl quietly off the bed. "Don't go," she begged quietly, grabbing at your sweater. "Lie with me for a while."

"Okay," you gave in to her helpless pleas and gently lay down on the other side of the bed.

Who knows how much strength it took for her to turn around to face you? "I miss ya," she sobbed.

You realized she wasn't talking to you at all. "I know. Go back to sleep."

There was nothing left in the room but your breathing. As she fell asleep, you knew that tomorrow Rachel would have a headache, and she would snap at everyone she met. You watched her face sink deeper and deeper into the pillow, her occasional smacking of her lips, her frown, and reassured yourself that maybe she was dreaming something good this time.

The warning signs were scattered around the kitchen. To be more precise, they were sitting there. Director Yaga stared in amazement at you coming down from the second floor, for he had been informed of your absence. "Mr. Director," you greeted him in a surprised but tired manner, glancing around at the others. There was Shoko, standing at the open window, blowing cigarette smoke, Yuji, who didn't look up from his desk, and Megumi, who had finally returned, alive and well. "Back?" you asked the boy, grinning approvingly. "Good. Go rest."

You probably said it to yourself - you were barely thinking. Automatically shuffling your feet, you headed for the workshop. "Y/N," a distressed voice stopped you.

Your face contorted instantly. Your eyes squeezed shut on their own and your lips pressed into a thin line against your will. 'Don't ya do this to me,' you begged silently someone who wasn't in this room.

Wiping the pain from your face with your hand, you took the only acceptable emotion you could muster. Benevolence. You turned around, and walking over to the table and standing in front of Megumi, you continued to pretend that everything was fine. "What is it?"

You refused to see the fear in Itadori's eyes, but you couldn't help but notice the fear in the black-haired boy's young features. Maybe if you hadn't looked so straight ahead, maybe if you'd known to look away, you wouldn't have seen the guilt.

Megumi refused to look you in the eyes - he was drilling a point near your neck, hiding his hands under the table. "I...," he began, but a gasp knotted his throat, and he clenched his teeth with such force that his tense jaw showed through his skin. "I'm... I'm- I'm so sorry," let it be his words - he was holding it together just fine, unlike Itadori. As soon as Megumi finished speaking, tears began to stream down Yuji's cheeks. It felt like molten metal had been poured into your lungs instead of air. It filled you from the inside out, rising higher and higher, coming up to your throat. "It's my fault," he admitted, reaching his hand out from under the table and handing you a silver bracelet.

You wanted to ask the boy a stupid but sincere question - whose bracelet was it? But as soon as you took it in your hand, you already knew the answer, for the size of the jewelry left no doubt as to who had once owned it.

"What...," you stammered, feeling the jewelry in your hands. It was warm, almost hot - apparently, Megumi had warmed it in his hands for a long time. "What happened?"

"Jonah brought more people to evacuate," the boy began in a trembling voice. "Kyle said we couldn't get everyone out at once. I insisted, though. I promised them I'd get them out," his eyes finally glistened, but not a single tear still fell. "I said I could take them out, but Kyle warned me that I couldn't take out six at a time. Then the people started... Th-they... They begged, begged me to take them out right now...," he sobbed, pressing himself harder against the back of the chair and lowering his gaze, hiding his face in his hand. "I convinced Kyle that I could do it. I really felt it," the boy pleaded, raising wet eyes to you. "He went to walk us to the rift, except...," he breathed intermittently and shallowly, swallowing thick saliva. "When we were close to the rift, it turned out they weren't people at all," he looked up at you, making sure you understood what he meant. "I wanted to stay, but he pushed me away, and I think I ripped it off him at that point," he glanced at the bracelet in your hands, licking his chapped lips. "First he pushed me away, then relocated me closer to the rift, and then I think he relocate himself, but...," stingy tears spilled from his eyes like begging atonement. "Before I went in, I turned around. They- They torn him ap-"

"I got it," you interrupted without listening to the rest of the story.

It was as if all the water had evaporated from your body - it was so dry it was hard to move your limbs, your eyes refused to blink, saliva pooled in your mouth as if you'd lost all your basic reflexes. "There's nothing ya can do now. Go to bed," you said blankly. Your gaze fell on the pack of cigarettes that was peering through the white robe of Shoko, who had approached you. Ieiri silently reached into the pocket, pulled out a cigarette and held it out to you, paired with a lighter. "Thanks."

It was a long walk to the window, for the floor underfoot was not parquet, but viscous glue. The phone rang for the umpteenth time, but you weren't angry or annoyed. You didn't care. That's what you thought, until you saw the name of the caller.

It was Frank.

You took a cigarette in your teeth and lit it, but you hesitated before answering the phone, your numb hands deliberately delaying the moment. The phone screen went out, but immediately lit up again. "Hey, Frank."

"It's been well over an hour," he sighed. "If ya can't call me back, at least send me a text so I don't worry-"

"Frank."

"Don't interrupt me, that's not what I taught ya," he frowned, reminding you of childhood admonitions. "How's Rachel doing? Have ya been watching her?"

"Frank," you tried again.

"Did she drink a lot?" the agitated man persisted. "She did something wrong, didn't she?"

"Frank!" you shouted into the phone. The silence was so empty and impersonal, only the waves crashing against the rocks reminded you what kind of world you were in. You took a puff for the first time in a long time. Your head was spinning, but you remained standing at the open panoramic window. "Kyle, he's... He's dead."

When you said it aloud, you brought it to life, bringing chaos not only to your soul, but to the souls of others as well. There was a long silence, and the sound of the waves began to subside along with the beating of the heart. It would have been better if Frank had never spoken, for instead of his words you heard only something mechanical, and the ringing in your ears made it impossible to make out what was said - past, future, anguish, joys, sorrows and moments of happiness - all merged together and seemed to sink into the bay before your eyes.

You threw away the burnt cigarette and pulled the silver bracelet out of your pocket; it was cool as it lost its warmth. There was no blood on it, no pieces of skin. You put it to your lips, hoping to feel Kyle again. It was no use. The jewelry gave off only your warmth.

You didn't immediately realize that Frank had gone silent. 'Yeah, okay,' you said on automatic. You seemed to hear the words 'Hopetown', 'funeral', 'two days'. Were 'two days' accurate? Did Frank say three? Did he say anything at all?

Before you could come to your senses and have time to ask again, Frank hung up. "Y/N," Principal Yaga's worried voice came from behind you. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

You lost your brother, and you are unlikely to ever see again those people who were first gifted with hope and then left in the void. "Yeah," you replied coldly, turning to look at those present. You were still desperately pressing the jewelry to your lips. "Your job."

Seeing the principal nod briefly, you walked past heading for the workroom, throwing all Kyle's hopes, plans, dreams, and silver bracelet into the trashcan.  

next ⊳

#gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojou x reader #gojo satoru #gojo jujutsu kaisen #gojou #gojou fluff #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x you #gojou x y/n #gojou x you #jjk gojo #jjk gojou #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo

[staghunters]

Happy Birthday to her! Vampfic Jackie you will always be famous :3

Alt Version and ramble under the cut haha

Wowza, a whole year!

Wouldn't have thought it to feel so long and short at the same time. If I had to look at all the stuff that happened inbetween posting that first chapter and whatever I'm doing now, there's so much change in there. And definitely all for the better!

I've met so many cool people in the span of this year. Very noteworthy case being @ordinaryhorror, since we started talking because of vampire!jackie, and then werewolf!jackie, and before you know it, you're on a train to Spain hugging the biggest dork in the world (love ya, my buddy, my pal). Oh no now there's a series rewatch, Ah no now a discord server and mutuals and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa so many nice peeps!

Talking about fandom as something Big in my life feels a bit cringe, but in this case that rings very true. I think I put somewhere before that, ever since I got into YJ, my inspiration for making things has spiked for the first time in over a decade.

AND for the first time it really got me into writing fic. So that's why this is a bit of a special occassion, since the vampfic was the first multi-chapter thing of considerable length that I started with. It really forced me to think about a number of things like: - how the fuck do I outline things - what's good pacing - this could be a fun thing to include, but would it make sense - aaaaa multiple characters interacting and they all have their own personality and likes/dislikes about others aaaaaaa

A great lesson!

I liked working on it, and where the story ended up. I don't really re-read it except for the comments and chapter 7, since of that one i really am proud. On other fronts I feel that if I were to stare at it for too long, the flaws would begin to annoy me and I would want to fix things, which is not something I want to do.

If anything, I want to put the same level of energy into a new project.

Thanks for reading! And if you didn't, still super-duper thankful to have you here. Just knowing that there's people in the world that vibe with what I think of/make really is enough to me

Cheers <3

#yellowjackets #the vampfic #doodl #jackie taylor #technically the bday is on the 26th (tomorrow) but I'll count it because of leap day #digital art #clip studio paint

[meimi-haneoka]

Do you guys ever think about how many times CLAMP tiptoe around the word "death", in Clear Card? (you: what kind of question is that???)

Because it's an awful lot.

The actual verb 死ぬ (to die), the classical one, is never mentioned* to indicate "death", and I totally see the reasons why: mainly target and "world view" of the series (lord, if there's something I learned during these 8 years of observing the reactions from the JP fans is that the 世界観, the "world view" is EVERYTHING and if the authors dare doing something that goes against it, they won't forgive them. Especially for a series rooted deep in everybody's childhood).

* (Actually, it is used in chapter 43 in a funny skit with Kero, Suppy and Nakuru, where Kero says "I thought I would die!!!" because he's too embarrassed by the SyaoSaku scene he had to forcefully witness hidden in Sakura's bag 😂but it's a foolish scene)

I think the first time where they actually start to dangle it in our faces is in chapter 28, when they make Momo scream in panic: "If you rewind that far, the repercussions will be immesurable!!" and then Kaito confirming right after "Time magic shortens the caster's lifespan".

命を削る indeed means "to shorten one's lifespan", and what else does that mean, if not that he's killing himself little by little, by using time magic? Sure, magicians have a longer lifespan, but...

Another instance where they make us "sniff" the smell of death but they don't serve the actual meal is in chapter 33, when Kaito goes out in the garden to counter the attack coming from the Association. He condescendingly says 力不足と己の身が滅ぶのを恐れて, mocking them for not including time magic in their collective attack because they're afraid their power won't be enough and they'll literally wreck their bodies in the process. Kaito doesn't straight up say "they're afraid to die", but the verb 滅ぶ means "to perish, to be ruined, to be destroyed" and we all saw what effects time magic had on Kaito's body. He's basically calling them p*ssies, yes.

And excuse me, but the most apparent one....when Kaito (or the Clan) says multiple times "Her soul will break", should Akiho write on herself more power than her body can sustain....isn't that just a very generous way to avoid saying "Akiho WILL DIE" to not scare the young readers away? Because, think about it...if her soul breaks...what is left of her? What is left of Akiho, as we know her? Yes, just a shell, a corpse for use and consumption of the Association/Clan, exactly.

And what to say about the scene of chapter 41 when Nadeshiko is trying to mom-talk Kaito into reason and the guy answers "I guess it's because I'm getting closer to become the same kind of entity as you", meaning, a ghost??? Hence, he's basically saying "I'm about to die"? I always snicker when I read that part because I'm like "OH COME ON, CLAMP, MAKE HIM SAY THE WORD" 😂

Another instance where the characters dance around the concept of death is in chapter 51, when Momo gets to have this very mom-son talk with Kaito (yes, exactly, Kaito set into motion several mother figures throughout the story - Lilie, Momo, Nadeshiko herself - that should tell you SOMETHING). Momo is trying to make him understand that he's literally betted his life away when he made the contract with her, so that should give him an idea of how important this mission is to him, and for whom he's doing this for. She says "When you made the contract with me, you revealed your true name. We could say I hold your heart as magician in the palm of my hand". Here Momo is basically already mentioning the concept I've been saying time and time again when Kaito revealed his true name to Akiho in chapter 80: in CLAMP works, revealing your true name to someone is like placing the most vulnerable part of yourself in their hands. The "imagery" Momo suggests here is actually pretty disturbing: the word 心臓 (heart) is the one commonly used to indicate the actual organ, more than "heart as core of the emotions", and so what she's suggesting is that at any moment, without notice, she might close that hand and crush his heart, basically killing him. Of course Momo would never do that, but she wants to remind him of what damned situation he's put himself in, how far he went for the person he still isn't ready to recognize at this point of the story.

I think the closer they went to say the "forbidden word" was when Lilie in chapter 72 explained to Sakura the extent of her premonitory dreams: "I know things that will happen shortly ahead...things way far ahead in the future...and even things that will happen when I'll be gone".

Another instance where they TOTALLY dance around the real situation (that is, Kaito should've been dead-dead-dead by then) is in chapter 80 when Eriol explains to Akiho what Kaito had been doing: I'm not sure if it's Eriol who sugarcoated it in his speech, or Akiho herself while recounting it to Sakura, but she says "He messed with lots (of dangerous magic), so his condition wasn't supposed to be that good", another polite way to say "he should've been dead by now". In fact, what's keeping him alive is literally the fact that the pocket watch (and therefore, his time) is frozen for now.

And sometimes I wonder if the "unhappiness" or "grief" that Yelan foresaw for Sakura, in the eventuality she couldn't gain control of her own powers, included....death too....NAAAAAAAHHHH

(well, I mean, who didn't think of THAT when they made Kaito say that he could see Nadeshiko because he was close to dying?? Well knowing that Sakura could suddenly see her too?? they did that on purpose jfc)

#card captor sakura #ccsakura #clear card arc #just very randomly musing about stuff #I've been keeping tabs of how many times they've danced around the concept of death in this arc #and it's surprisingly a lot #lmao I feel like Barbie asking THAT question while they're dancing in the movie #but fear not cause even like this the arc never crosses the line #it's like saying well it's time for children to get accustomed with the concept and we'll gradually start to introduce it #gently very gently #but it's useless to keep avoiding it forever #I mean we got someone who was literally throwing his life away as one of the main characters and themes in this arc #sooo...

[the-forgotten-jack]

Ignis Tempestas

*part 14 of ??*

*chapter 2*

*reminder: --- marks a change in perspective*

"APATHY!"

My voice echoed harshly through the hall as I screamed my brother's name. His footsteps followed shortly. I smirked as he came scrambling into my room.

"Yes, Empathy?" His voice was quiet and shook slightly.

"I'm going into town. Go tell father I'll be home before the eighth hour of light."

"Empathy-" He started to protest, but I held my hand up to stop him, my smirk turning to a malicious grin.

"Yes, dear brother?" He faltered when I spoke in that sickly sweet tone I used before forcing him to do the worst jobs around the palace.

He swallowed his words and nodded stiffly before walking away. I waited a little, then left my room as well, going down to the stables. I snapped at any servants as I passed them, taking pleasure in how they flinched away from me. One poor girl even fell over herself as she was carrying a bucket of water to the kitchens. I laughed as she picked herself up, soaked thoroughly.

When I got to the stables, I spoke to no one. I didn't need to. My shoes made a distinctive clicking sound, and my yelling had given me away. The stablehand already had my horse saddled and ready to ride. He offered to help me up, but I smacked his hand away from me.

I reached the market quickly and dismounted, beginning to wander the shops. I didn't need to tie up my horse or anything of the sort, no. I was Empathy Mae. You'd have to be a brainless fool to try stealing from me.

Nothing in particular caught my eye, but I liked sensing the nearly tangible fear when people saw me. They knew my reputation, and based only on my appearance, it could easily be proven.

I was wearing a cream colored dress with deep blue embroidery on the ends of the sleeves, which clung to my arms and flared at the wrists, and lace at the bottom. Under my dress, I wore simple leggings of the same colors, so I didn't expose anything while I was riding. My boots were a lighter blue, made of soft leather with a steel heel. I wore no jewelry, but I didn't need to.

Out of nowhere, there was an awful commotion, and a voice screamed for the guards. I rolled my eyes. It was probably just a robbery, I thought. There were lots of those. But then I saw the vulture standard, and for the first time in many years, fear struck me.

---

I raised my standard high, laughing as the other bandits spread out around me, wreaking total havoc.

"BRING ME THE BOY CALLED APATHY!"

My brethren responded to the command, surging forward in all directions to clear my path and assist in my search. I kept a facade of merely enjoying the raid, but deep inside me, I felt nauseous from excitement. I'd been meeting in secret with Apathy Minn for a few months now, and I'd fallen hard for him. A few days ago, I decided I'd take him as my own. His father and mother would never allow our relationship, so I told him I'd come up with something. This raid was that something.

Not too far from my own position, I heard a haughty voice speaking oddly calmly for their situation.

"What are you looking for my brother for? He's worthless, really."

I turned incredulously to face the speaker and broke into a grin. I raised my hand, pointing to the girl who'd insulted my beloved.

"Kill the girl first."

---

I paced nervously in my room as I waited for the inevitable knock at my window. A guard had just come running from the market with news of a bandit attack, and something in me knew it was Ven Skull, the bandit who'd been visiting me for the past few months.

To be honest, I was worried for him. He was already always in dangerous situations, but his love for me made him reckless. I was sure he was going to get too hurt to get me out of here, but I had to have faith in him. He was smart, even if he was reckless. I just had to be patient.

My father burst into my room, a wild look in his eyes.

"Where's your sister?"

#Ignis Tempestas

[aparticularbandit]

I wonder if Sakura was supposed to kill Junko.

If Mukuro believed she was going to fake die and then go help Junko run the Killing Game.

If she really believed she was never going to have to be part of the class trial part of the game, and then when Sayaka screwed up that plan and Junko wasn't going to let up and was going to force her to actually play, Mukuro didn't even think about the rest of it. If that's why she noped so hard and stepped on Monokuma.

Like - the idea of Mukuro prior to this during the lead up to the tragedy having to sit around while Junko makes her best OC ever Monokuma DO NOT STEAL and Junko sending one of the first Monokuma over to her excited because he's working and Mukuro both amused but also a soldier who very easily proves that Monokuma is nothing by Look, Junko, he's a stuffed bear, I can just step on him! and He's not a stuffed bear; he's Monokuma!

Of Mukuro only ever half-taking Monokuma seriously and that being fine outside of the Killing Game, but she can't get away with it here because Monokuma has to be taken seriously.

Mukuro who expected a very specific plan and was not particularly flexible to being collateral damage when the plan didn't go right (except it did) and as a result literally causing herself to be collateral damage.

Because you thought Monokuma couldn't be terrifying; screw you, I will prove he CAN, and you will be my example met with Junko Ultimate Analyst listening to the Ultimate Gambler about being adaptable.

#musings #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa #junko enoshima #mukuro ikusaba #.... #i have too many thoughts and i'm one chapter in #but these two FASCINATE me #mukuro: why do you need the bear #junko: because he's fun! #mukuro: why can't it just be you killing everyone #junko: because that's so played out and boring #mukuro: or an actual bear #junko: people are already scared of people! and bears! #mukuro: yeah! you see a bear and immediately despair! or hope you can get away and then despair when it eats you! #junko: exactly! how much MORE despair do we get if we make people scared of this little guy? :D #mukuro: .... #junko: :D #mukuro: i have lived in actual warzones junko that isn't going to— #junko: IT WILL AND MONOKUMA WILL STRIKE DESPAIR INTO THE HEARTS OF ALL WHO SEE HIM #mukuro: sis i love you but do you honestly think— #junko: TRUST ME #...of note i'm aware that there are monokuma outside causing post-tragedy havoc? right? maybe? #so technically junko already proved her point? #but #IDK BRAIN THOUGHTS

[musical-chick-13]

So I guess ultimately my question is why are we assuming that Nayuta specifically meant “Denji belongs to me definitively, and you are trying to take his attention away from me?”

Aside from the fact that narrative misdirection is a thing and that I think it would completely contradict all the themes of the story thus far to just have her be Makima 2.0 and inherently evil...

We don’t actually know if she and Yoru recognize each other or not? Even on a subconscious level. If she does recognize Yoru (and, reasonably, knows how her powers work) calling Yoru a thief could have meant that “You are trying to steal Denji’s spinal cord to make a weapon” or even “You have stolen this random girl’s body to use for yourself.” (Even if she doesn’t know specifically that Yoru is sharing Asa’s body, she might still be able to tell that something weird is going on?)

She’s still a child, she might have just impulsively said the smallest amount of words that would sort-of convey what she was feeling.

I’m not worried yet.

Yet.

#I know people are pointing to the 'don't kiss me in front of her' as evidence of her posessiveness over denji but. she's also a child? #lots of children just don't like seeing kissing in general. especially involving family members. it's also possible that...idk they were #watching a movie once with a kiss scene and she made a disgusted face or something and denji just interpreted that the wrong way #I mean. I know creators like to troll people especially ones who are essentially human cryptids like fujimoto but...he did say that part 2 #would be different from part 1. idk he's not a stupid writer I don't think he would go this hard on Themes™ of love and connection and how #they enrich our lives and then backtrack on that? I don't think he would highlight how Things Will Be Different if it didn't mean anything? #MANY THOUGHTS HEAD FULL #I'm still sad we didn't get a discussion between yoru and nayuta about eating crayons I'm thinking too much about that one comic #nayuta #yoru #chainsaw man #chainsaw man spoilers #chainsaw man manga spoilers #csm spoilers #csm manga spoilers #csm chapter 119 #(I think that's all of the tags people might have reasonably blocked if they don't want manga spoilers???)

[perexcri]

happy one year to her and one of my better opening lines for a fic <3

now, because i'm curious:

#to hell and back again #i genuinely can't believe it's a year but i guess that's how time works huh :') #anyway umm gonna leave some retrospective thoughts in the tags: #1. i hold this fic near to my heart but also have a very complicated relationship with it now- #mostly bc i feel like my writing has improved so much and it's hard for me to reread parts of this lol #2. i honestly feel like it's a product of its time? like i think if i was publishing it now people wouldn't like it nearly as much #(especially with the opening line wHICH HAS A POINT AND COMES FULL CIRCLE AT THE END OK JUST TRUST ME) #3. on a sadder note this also means it's been a year since we had to put my family's eldest dog down #i remember i was gonna post this first chapter later when i had finished another fic up #but then our dog just like. straight up started dying on my mom's bedroom floor #and my mom was too distressed/upset to take her to the vet so i had to put her in my car and take her on my own #and then had to go to work right after that #so yeah i was upset and was like 'well dammit im gonna post this then bc it's silly and makes me laugh and i am sad' #so yeah!! some thoughts and behind the scenes info for anyone who's bothered to read this many tags #idk these things just feel like Tags thoughts not Post thoughts #anyway thanks for all the love this one has gotten!! i'm glad people are still enjoying it though *will voice* it's been a year mike #byler

[haru-chi]

No one can convince me now that both the timing of the manga and the anime episode tomorrow wasn't intentional :/

As a massage to confirm that the ring episode happened AFTER the current arc and what occur in the last two chapters ..

#sousou no frieren #frieren: beyond journey's end #why did they do this to me ??? #I need to sort out my feelings and thoughts before I can talk .... #I have many things I wanna share ... many feelings to scream about ... #but I'm still processing what I juat witnessed ... #such a one chapter have powerful things to unpack in it .... #I just ... can't ... #and I'm so not ready for tomorrow's episode to finish me off on top of it all ... #I .... #this ia too much ...

[10thitsugaya]

Mangas I plan to make a colo from a panel (or more) in the coming future :

Gakuen Alice,

Blue Lock,

Kamemoshita Ron,

Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun

#I would had put jjk but I've done quite a lot and I don't want to go back reading chapters and just... yeah #I have too many panels for GA thanks to Natsume #idk who in BL I'll be doing first since I basically feel like I'm cheating (it's rare I don't have only one fav so.....) #krnks is by Amano Akira so of course I want to do several characters #from the first chapter dropped I thought of Tsuna and Hibari as detectives and yeah #JSHK I actually had a romantic full panel (2 pages then) but I never finished it. But I want to do ones from the recent chapter #same for kuroshitsuji I actually had started but never finished one #same for Yamada #I really like to start stuff but hate finishing them