#i opened up one fic that looked really promising and 3 chapters in they're using morrison's orgin story for damian

[introspectivememories]

my loyalty to talia is so strong that i will not hear a word against this woman. i am her defender, first and foremost. i refuse to even read fics with talia slander in it. oh you tagged your fic, "talia al ghul is a bad parent"? i'm not reading it. blah, blah, blah, you don't get her character and i hope dami shows up in your room in the middle of the night with a sword for talking shit about his mom

#batlantern is my 2nd fav bruce ship #i will read almost anything with batlantern in it #i opened up one fic that looked really promising and 3 chapters in they're using morrison's orgin story for damian #the way i clicked off so fast #there's only like 1k fics for this ship #idc i'll lower my choices down to 200 if i have to #every time i read a dami fic and tehy put in 'bad parent talia' i'm like gagging and retching #almost as bad as 'dick grayson is damian wayne's parent' #NO HE FUCKING ISNT!!! #i hate that tag sooo much and it's everywhere in the dami tag #damian wayne #talia al ghul #dc

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Going Back Home

Summary: Claire never thought she would be back in the town she grew up in. But after her fiancé broke off their engagement, leaving her 5 months pregnant and alone she found herself calling Frankie Morales in the middle of the night, one of her childhood friends who insisted that she booked the next flight out. Trying to fix her life with a little help from her friends she would find out soon that going back would be the best decision she ever made.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Claire Beck

wordcount: 3.1k

Warnings: more or less unplanned pregnancy, break up, mentions of sexual encounters

A/N: I am a weak weak person so here it is, a chaptered fic. I will try to update this weekly, but no promises. Rating will go up later. I'm attempting slow burn. Let's see how slow lol Let me know what you think. Reblogs are, as always, appreciated 💙

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Even Though most of her happiest memories were connected with this town, the town she spent most of her life in, Claire never thought she actually would be back here. And certainly not pregnant and all by herself.

It wasn’t that she had been unhappy here. Claire just always wanted something… bigger. Something more. Something exciting. After her parents died and most of her friends moved away, there was nothing holding her back. Well, that wasn’t true. Frankie and Santiago were there. But only when they weren’t overseas or god knows where, which left her with her dream of being a journalist in a small town where she had no chance to ever make it.

She still remembered Santi’s face when she announced that it was her turn to leave just before they were about to be gone for months again. She had gotten a job in New York and thought for days about what to do until she took the job. That was eight years ago and they hadn’t seen each other in person since then.

Yet when she called Frankie three days ago in tears, it was like no time had passed. She wanted to call Santiago first, but she knew him. If she had told him what happened to her he would have gotten into his car and gotten to her, no matter if it took 3 straight days. No, she had called Frankie. He had listened to her for hours until he made her promise to book the next flight out.

When the fuck did her life become such a shit show?

Only a week ago, she had the dream job, was engaged and 5 months pregnant.

Claire was happy. Until her fiance came back from a work trip and suddenly announced that he wanted nothing to do with the child and moved out within days, leaving her on her own. Not even his phone number was working and she wasn’t gonna show up at his work. She wasn’t that desperate. She should have seen it coming. John never planned to have kids. But when Clarie found out that she was pregnant he had already asked her to marry him and maybe he was too proud to end the engagement back then. Thinking back maybe this was the reason he stayed. Because a part of him wanted to spend his life with her. They didn’t fight. He just moved out, told her that he would take care financially of her and the child, but that he didn’t want to be a father.

The first days she was just numb. Trying to wrap her mind around the fact that the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with, left her while she was pregnant with a child they didn’t plan but that she loved without a doubt. That was what kept her going. Her little bean. Claire would do anything to protect her little girl.

The guys to this day called her bean. She found herself thinking more of them since John left. Even without seeing them in the last years, they still stayed in contact. Not a week went by where she didn’t receive a letter. They had a group chat that was only used when they were at home and the bachelor was on. Cause fuck did they all hate that show but they watched it anyways.

Claire was okay with the whole suddenly being on her own thing, until she felt her baby move for the first time and turned in her bed to wake her fiance, finding the side empty and cold. For one tiny moment, she had forgotten that she was alone in a city where she had only a couple of friends who were his friends rather than hers. She had always had a hard time finding friends. That probably wouldn’t change.

Sucking her bottom lip in, she rested one hand on her belly as she waited for her luggage to arrive. She slept almost through the entire flight. Claire had gotten rid of the last eight years of her life in the last 48 hours. She wanted to start fresh. She needed a fresh start. Even if she had no idea how to deal with all of this on her own.

A woman next to her helped her get her suitcases on the cart, noticing that Claire was on her own. Pushing the cart through security she saw Frankie as soon as the door opened and next to him Ben, Will and Santiago who all smiled at her, while she felt the first tears escaping her eyes.

She had met Ben and Will only a couple times, they were living an hour away, but they became part of the group immediately. Once upon a time her childhood best friend, Leah, was in that group too. Claire hadn’t thought of Leah in a long time. She had died in a car accident almost 12 years ago.

Arms pulled her in a warm embrace and even after years of not seeing each other for such a long time, she still noticed Frankie’s scent.

“We got you,” he whispered, kissing her hair. She sobbed once before she was pulled into Santi’s arms.

“Look at you,” he smiled before he looked down at her belly.

“And look at you?” he smiled and leaned down.

“Hello, this is your favorite Uncle speaking,” he winked, bending down to speak directly to her belly, making her chuckle.

“Oh please, we all know I’m gonna be the favorite, hey bean,” Will hugged her.

“Don’t listen to them baby girl, we know they're all gonna spoil you rotten,” she grinned, letting Ben kiss her cheek.

“So you’re staying?” Frankie asked and you nodded.

“I already called some realtors. I wanna get this over as quickly as possible. Already sold everything back in New York,” Claire said, looking at the two men who formed most of her teenage years.

“Okay. Let’s get you out of this airport first. You okay to stay with Frankie? He has the biggest house,” Santiago asked, pushing the cart as you slowly walked towards the exit with Ben’s arm around her shoulder.

“Uh… I don’t wanna impose. I could just take a room…”

“Fuck no. Stay at my place. It’s my Pa’s old ranch. I’m renovating it.”

“What? No way!” she said surprised but Frankie only nodded.

“Yeah after Liz and South America I needed something to keep me busy. Also needed more space for Elena,” he explained. A small smile sneaked to Claire’s face.

“I still can’t believe you’re a dad Frankie.”

“Can’t believe you gonna be a mom. Fuck we’re really adults now, huh?” he winked and Claire sighed.

“Certainly didn’t plan it that way. Or planned it at all,” she said sadly before she shook her head as if to get rid of the sad thoughts clouding her mind.

“I meant it, Claire. We got you. We are bored most times anyways.”

“Hey speak for yourself, Fish. I got a business,” Santi said.

“Yeah. Yeah. Me too. But after work you’re either drunk or after some pussy so?” Ben grinned, making her chuckle.

“So still no ladies in your life, boys?” Claire asked as they reached what definitely was Frankie’s truck. It had his company name on it. “Morales gardening”

“Nope. But now that you’re here we could finally….” Will started only for Claire to look away in disgust, making them all laugh.

“You ready to become a Daddy, Will?” she asked, her hands both on her belly.

“Uhm… of course?” he answered and she chuckled.

“That’s what I thought,” she patted his cheek.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted,” Frankie said and opened the door for her.

“We’ll see you tomorrow for the BBQ,” they all waved. She waved back, letting Frankie help her inside before he closed the door behind her and hopped into the driver’s seat.

“BBQ?” she asked.

“Can’t blame the folks from wanting to welcome you, bean,” he winked.

“What folks?”

“Ya know. Folks. You gonna see,” he looked at Claire. He felt better now that she was here. Frankie had missed her these last years, the couple of calls throughout hadn’t nearly been enough. And when she called two days ago in tears… He would have gotten the chopper and flown over but he couldn’t risk it. He had to be on good behaviour to be able to keep seeing his daughter.

“I missed you, Francisco,” she whispered.

“Missed you too, Bean.”

The sun was already setting when Frankie drove down a familiar path. Claire had spent countless days on this ranch when she was younger.

“How is your Dad doing?” she asked softly and Frankie sighed as he killed the engine in front of the house.

“I fucking hate that I can’t take care of him on my own, but he’s hanging in there.”

“I’d like to visit him if you’re okay with that,” she reached over squeezing his hand and he looked at her with a small smile.

“I bet he would love that.”

“And I’m sure he would have wanted it this way, Francisco. You know your dad. He wouldn’t have wanted you to drop everything for him. Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she said quietly.

“Damn I really missed you Bean,” he shook his head.

“Missed you too,” she let her head fall against his shoulder.

Claire didn’t really have eyes for the house, all she wanted was to go to sleep.

“I finished the guest room this morning for you,” Frankie said, setting one of her suitcases down as he opened the door.

“Please tell me you didn’t work overnight to finish this,” she sighed looking at him. He was rubbing the back of his head, pulling the cap he was always wearing down and avoiding her eyes.

Knowingly she shook her head, but couldn’t help the smile sneaking to her face.

“I won’t say it. But please don’t touch the walls, they might still be wet,” he said and she chuckled.

“Okay. Bathroom is over there. The shower isn’t working yet but you’re welcome to use mine. Will is coming over to take a look and make this one work. Other than that if you need anything just ask. Until you found a place this is your home.”

“You really didn’t have to do this, Frankie,” she said quietly, feeling overwhelmed by all of this. So many things had changed in such a short amount of time for her and she only now seemed to realize that she was indeed about to be a single mom.

“I wanted to. You’re… You don’t deserve to be treated like this. So let us help you, okay?” he said softly and she nodded but avoided his eyes.

“Okay. Go to sleep. My room is down the hallway if you need anything,” he stepped closer, kissing her forehead and for one tiny moment, she felt like the 15 year old teenager again who was crushing on Frankie Morales.

“Good night, Francisco,” she smiled.

“Good night, bean,” he whispered before he turned around and closed the door behind him.

Claire looked around, in awe of the room, the bed looking so inviting to her. Sighing she walked over to the window, knowing she would be able to see the whole property during the day. Crossing her arms in front of her she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of nature that she had no idea she had missed living in the city for all these years. She felt a fluttering in her belly, her hand wandering down to feel a kick.

“We’ll be happy here, I promise,” she vowed, rubbing over her belly.

She didn’t want to disturb Frankie, even though she could hear the TV running so she just washed herself at the sink before she put her Pajamas on and sat down on the bed. She would unpack tomorrow. For now she had to sleep.

The sun wasn’t even up when Claire woke up. She turned in bed, propping herself up so she could look out the window and watch the sunrise. She had to make a plan. A plan that included finding a house, a doctor and help. Though help would be her smallest problem. She already looked at houses in the area and it didn’t look good. If she had more time she would buy the house just down this road, but there was no way the house would be ready before her due date. She would ask Santi for help. He had a lot of connections through his business. Though Frankie too. Claire knew that he had a little gardening company since he lost his pilot’s license. He never really talked about it, but then again, they didn’t talk that much. She knew that he had some problems with drugs in the past, but that he has been clean for almost two years and was doing better. She also knew that there was a lot more to this story then he had told her. Maybe they would have time to talk. To really talk. Groaning to herself, her quiet and peaceful morning was interrupted by her bladder. Time to start the day.

For a minute she wondered if she could risk sneaking into Frankie’s room to take a shower when she heard music playing. Grabbing her bathrobe and toiletries she opened the door and walked down. Now being really awake she had time to take in the house. It seemed like there still was a lot to do. The walls were still unpainted, the floors still old, though she could see he already started with the floor the closer she got to the kitchen.

Frankie was sitting at the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in front of him as the radio quietly played in the background. He had a serious case of bed hair and she smiled to herself. He hadn’t noticed her yet and she found herself thinking back to all the times she had thought that maybe there was something more in between them than friendship. And maybe there was at one point a long time ago. But that was before he joined the military. She might be selfish for it, but she couldn’t be in a relationship where her partner was gone all the time. She needed someone to be there. Even Though there had been times in the past she had found herself asking if maybe she should have risked it.

Instead she had slept with Santiago.

Yeah, that was a big fuck up. Well it was also a pretty good fuck but it was just once and they definitely were better off as friends. She still didn’t know if Frankie knew. Not that she had to explain herself. Frankie always knew what effect he had on the women around him, and he sure as hell took advantage of it. And now she felt nothing more than love for him. As a friend, nothing more.

“Good Morning,” she said quietly and Frankie turned his head, yawning at her.

Chuckling she walked over taking in the kitchen, setting her toiletries down.

“You weren’t kidding when you say you were still renovating,” she sat down next to him. He got up from his seat walking over to fix her a mug of tea.

“Still hooked on Strawberry tea, I hope?” he asked and she nodded, surprised that he remembered.

“Yeah. Though the kitchen and living room are supposed to be finished by the end of next week. So sorry for the noise in the next couple days,” he walked over and set down the mug of tea in front of her.

“Hey it’s your house. I’m just thankful you let me stay.”

“Of course. Couldn’t let you stay in the dumpster motel in this town,” he winked. She took a sip of the tea and it was perfect.

“So what are you planning for today?” he asked.

“I probably should start looking into houses. I’m kind of on a timetable here,” she rested one hand on her belly and Frankie followed her movement.

“Yeah. I think Pope already called someone for some houses. It’s not looking good.”

“Yeah I thought so. Everything I found on the internet was in really bad shape,” she sighed.

“It’s gonna work out. And if you don’t find something, you’re welcome to stay. The place is big enough,” he shrugged and Claire laughed quietly.

“Yeah I bet you can’t wait to live with a hormonal pregnant woman and then with a newborn,” she joked.

“I lived with Pope. Nothing can be worse and…”

“And?” she asked.

“I already lived with a hormonal pregnant woman. It’s not that bad,” he shrugged with a small smile. She looked at him with a small smile on her face.

“You say that now. Wait till I’m craving your mug cake at 3am now that I’m living with you,” she joked. Frankie laughed.

“Wow I haven’t had one of those in at least 10 years.”

“Well then it’s about time.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking at Claire. She looked more relaxed today, like she had a good night’s sleep and he was thankful he put in an overnight to finish the guest room for her. She deserved to relax. When she told him that she not only was pregnant but dumped by her fiance Frankie was furious, yet at the same time he already decided that he would take care of her and help her with everything she needed. It was the least he could do.

Even though they grew apart in the last years, she still was one of his best friends.

“Okay. I’m gonna go take a shower. I got to drive out to check on a project. You gonna be okay here for a while?” Frankie asked. Claire nodded, grabbing her mug of tea.

“Just tell me when you’re going out so I can take a shower,” she said.

“Thank you, Frankie,” she whispered when she stopped next to him and softly kissed his cheek, before she walked down the hallway. Frankie looked after her with a soft smile before he got up to get ready to head out.

Next chapter

#my writing #going back home #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x ofc #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #frankie morales fanfiction

[metalheadmickey]

hi jessie! what're you working on writing? i love love love everything you do <3 how do you get inspiration - for writing or otherwise?

Hi there! Wow, that's so nice of you to say! Thank you so much! 🖤

Currently I'm working on two fics. One takes place several years post canon and is scenes from early parenthood. It's four chapters, each one taking place every three months over the course of a year and only spanning about a day. It's pretty short, I think it'll be about 10 or 11k, and it has absolutely no plot. It's just them hanging out with and marveling at their baby. It's almost done. I did a lot of editing this weekend and I'm trying to finish the last chapter within the next couple of days. And then I thought it would be fun to post a chapter a day for four days once the whole thing is complete. I just wanted to put some soft dad content out there in the world.

The other fic I'm working on is smut. The idea started as a sex video fic in part because I often like to explore things mentioned in canon when it comes to their sex life. But I always have such a blast writing sub Mickey, so it evolved into a sex video of their D/s activities. And then I decided to make it even more complicated by writing Mickey and Ian watching the video after they make it and fooling around while they watch it. The idea is that Mickey is down to make sex videos, but he feels weird about being filmed when they're in D/s mode and he's floating around in subspace. Like he's not sure he wants to see himself like that. But Ian does some gentle coaxing, and he is admittedly curious, so he eventually agrees to it. And he ends up really liking it when he watches it. So there are two sex scenes happening simultaneously, Mickey being choked and dominated on camera and Ian and Mickey watching the video, and the POV shifts between the two. Because sometimes it's just fun to make porn complicated, I suppose. But I don't want the POV shifting to be complicated for the reader, so I promise it's easy to follow.

Inspiration kind of comes from all over for me. When it comes to these two, I do get inspired by canon, obviously. Otherwise none of us would be here, right? They gave us a whole world with an ending open enough to play around with, and I find it really fun. And tbh I kind of just want to write what I'd like to read. That's the point of fic, right? That's what I think it should be, anyway.

But I also get inspired by real-life experiences. I'm new to writing fiction, and they say you should write what you know. Although I should clarify, I'm not having children any time soon and I don't even really like kids, but that finale really inspired like a zillion headcanons about them being parents for me. And my sex life doesn't exactly look like theirs lol. But yeah there is an element of lived experience in what inspires me.

I also just kind of let things hit me. I write when I get inspired, I don't go looking for inspiration so I can write. I absolutely hate forcing that stuff. I let my mind wander a lot while I'm at work or on my commute or trying to fall asleep at night, and when inspiration hits me out of nowhere, that's when I write.

#sorry for the long-winded response! i am incapable of brevity! #this was a lovely ask and i appreciate you #asks #ask game

[maiapattinson]

JUST FEEL IT//Chapter 9

Warning: From this point on the fic will take place in this present time but will have some flashbacks in time, I'll let you know!

We arrived at the grand opening of The Batman, at the London premiere where I was at Robert's insistence. He was completely amazing next to Zoe a tremendous actress and kind person.

⎯Man you met Neymar, I don't like football because I don't understand much but you met the boy Ney⎯I speak through the cell phone⎯The boy Ney Robert, do you know what that means? Damn you're lucky as fuck!

⎯Yes, we had a good conversation but it seems you are more interested in him, should I be jealous?

⎯You fool, of course you have ever looked at a hottie like I open your eyes⎯I hear your laugh

⎯Let's get out of the car now, I'll wait for you on the red carpet maia Philippe⎯ he answers and I smile at me

⎯I'll wait for you on the red carpet Batman⎯I hang up the call looking out the car window

Today would be a great day for Robert, to see his long-awaited film and realized by his work, I love seeing his achievements and still with me around. It's been a while since we've had any relationship as he is now dating a model. She seems to like him a lot more than she likes herself but he's not the only one with surprises either.

I found out after our last sex that the condom had burst and causing a fertilization, I spoke to Clare and Victoria who promised me not to tell Lizzy that they would tell Rob, we took the test and I was 3 weeks. I wanted to tell him but at the moment he was with the "girlfriend" so I kept it to myself.

Today I complete 2 and a half months and I already have a very approximate volume seen from afar.

⎯Yes Clare, the baby is fine and healthy and starting to settle into mommy here. Don't worry about me, I'm avoiding bullshit and drinking. See you tomorrow, a kiss⎯I read the message aloud⎯Perfect!

I carefully observe the immensity of the carpet and the lights of the camera's flashes and it's time to get out of the car. Wearing a modern and casual floor length dress with heels for the occasion and giving a little visibility of the pregnancy. Today I represent my editor and guest of the protagonist, flashes enter my vision and I get out of the car directing attention to me.

⎯Y/n Arantes⎯Robert comes over and pulls me into the pictures⎯You look beautiful in that dress.

⎯Look who's talking godfather⎯he approaches us gluing us⎯Is this to come out better in the pictures?

⎯For sure⎯he laughs at me and we turn to the photos and walk over to the cast for a moment

⎯Y/n,how are you?what's it like being best friends with a celebrity?and plans for the future with the two of you?⎯reporters ask

⎯I'm super proud of my best friend and I know that playing Batman was easy for him, my best friend besides being a celebrity is a person with a giant heart that I'm super passionate about⎯I reply

⎯Rob told us earlier that he has one person in mind, would you be that person? And the model he's been seeing? Are you two friends or close? Rumors?

⎯If Rob didn't reveal who that person would be then I won't go either, well we're best friends but I don't care but Suki is a lovely person and if it's her that's fine with me⎯ I step away from the rug with vertigo affecting me

⎯And you with these pregnancy rumors?

⎯It's not the first time people think I'm pregnant but one day it might be real⎯I reply

⎯Y/n⎯Zoe approaches me greeting me⎯How nice it is to finally meet you,Rob tells me a lot about you.

⎯It's really nice to meet you Zoe, I'm looking forward to seeing her perfect performance opposite Robert but I need some time off these cameras, they're making me dizzy⎯following me to the lobby⎯It's much better here,thanks.

⎯Want me to call Robert?⎯Zoe suggested and Robert meets us

⎯ Is everything okay with you?⎯ if he only knew what's making me this way

⎯Vertigo happens to me⎯I reply and look away making me even more dizzy⎯I'm not feeling well, can Zoe accompany me?

⎯Of course, leave it to me Rob⎯she accompanies me to the bathroom where I end up collapsing

⎯I hate throwing up, this is the worst phase⎯I talk to myself and look at Zoe⎯Can you tell?

⎯Notice what?

⎯You sure look like me⎯we got ready for the movie.

(The movie hasn't been released here yet and I'll give my expectations and reference from those who have watched it)

The film is a true work of art in its own right, an illustrated and perfectly seen art. All the weird concepts turning into wonderful gifts, seeing Robert as Batman revealed the darker and even sexier side he has and acting alongside Zoe made me a little jealous. His work and effort paid off, from the world famous vampire Edward Cullen and now Bruce Wayne makes him a real actor. Just like Kristen in Spencer Particularly Human Good.

They weren't uncomfortable with the dress and Rob asked me all the time if I was okay.

Shortly after the film ended, the actors and guests were ordered to go to a private dinner. I wanted to leave right there, but my appetite for food was bigger, I'm pregnant and I need to eat.

⎯Thank you so much for coming, I needed someone to tell me how the movie is going⎯he hugs me

⎯I'll call you Mr. Bruce, you'll feed my sexual fantasies even more of him and I'll sit at the table

⎯After we leave here, what do you think about going to my place and enjoying the rest of the night?⎯wink at me

⎯ But let's go to your parents' house, because I'm staying there and I need to talk to your parents.

⎯Can you tell me the subject?⎯the waiters put the food on the tables

⎯I'm going to travel to Brazil, see my family, see my parents and my friends⎯I explain by looking at the food that's not palpable.

⎯Brazil, I can't go with you but Victoria can.

⎯Robert I'm not a child I'm already 32 years old, do you think I'm still young?. And I'm going to Brazil because a friend of mine is pregnant.

⎯Anna?,her daughter is still 5 months old⎯he answers and puts down the cutlery⎯Are you lying?

⎯I am a 32 year old female, can I have a minute of peace without having you by my side or your girlfriend?

⎯Which girlfriend Y/n?

⎯You're a fucking motherfucker⎯I get up⎯I'll meet you at your parents' house later,ok?

⎯Ok Maia⎯I hit him with my bag⎯That hurt!

⎯Fuck you.

I take the same car and drive to Clare and Richard's. I arrive there starving and Clare has a feast for me, she is my mother here in London and Richard my father but until I have his grandson or granddaughter. I wear something that shows the belly, seeing the drooling aunts on the child.

⎯I went to the doctor Clare, everything is fine with the baby.

⎯The baby is a girl, how adorable⎯Clare is happy and runs her hand over my belly

⎯ Said the baby because I feel it's a girl but it could be a boy, at this age coming healthy and well is the important thing ⎯ sigh ⎯ Rob looked so happy today, he'll be happy with the news ⎯ I hear the phone ring and Victoria he meets

⎯And the names have you thought?⎯Richard asks⎯She or he will be born here, since we are doing well in the pandemic.

⎯I want an easy and special name for myself⎯I reply and look at Victoria⎯Who was it?

⎯Robert, he said he's not coming home today, he went to the model's house and comes back tomorrow⎯ she answers and I sit down

⎯I think I better go to bed, it's late and I need to pack my bags⎯I get up⎯Good night everyone.

I knew someone would complete his life and it wouldn't be me but she, being pregnant with him affected my hormones that were already complicated. Being pregnant at that age is already a challenge and even bringing this pregnancy to an end.

I look at the screen of the tablet waiting for a correct answer from Noah about the situation.

⎯Are you going to speak or not?

⎯"Robert Pattinson is caught kissing with model" do you want to see the pictures?⎯ he asks and I put on my bathrobe

⎯ I'm a fool to be jealous of him at this point, okay I wanted him by my side I wanted to but what am I going to do? force him to marry me?⎯ I wear my clothes

⎯Come home and stay with me, then I'll pamper you and pamper my nephew⎯he says and I take my coat and keys⎯The key to the door is under the rug.

⎯I arrive in 10 minutes⎯I hang up and go to Noah's

Noah was 10 years younger than me, but he already felt the same as I did in his wrong and suffering relationships, as the queen of suffering said: "If he doesn't want you, he gets over it!".

I open the door and Noah runs towards me, nearly knocking me over.

⎯My favorite pregnant woman is my nephew or niece in here⎯kiss my belly and pulls me inside.

#books #batman #movies #fanfic #robert pattinson #fantasy #imagine #film #fiction #brazil #wattpad #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson x reader #x reader #your boyfriend yn #justfeelit

[callmeunstable]

Angels & Demons - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Characters: Reader, Godling, Savilla, Jaskier

Summary: After finding a friendin Jaskier their friendship get tested. Unsure of the danger ahead Alva tries her best to live in the village.

Warnings: Cursing, Blood, Death

Words: 2.000+

A/N: Hey! This is the fourth part of my fic. It took really long this time due to personal problems. I’m sorry but it probably will happen again. Thank you for you patience and enjoy!

Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!

Tags: @marvelbrat @charliestuff

Song: 

“Did ya hear the rumors?”

“The folks are saying the Nilfgaards want to overrule Cintra.”

“That’s never been a secret, mate. Cintra will fall and we all know that.”

“Got to hell. Our Lioness is strong. Don’t ya ever doubt her skill.”

These were the latest accusations browsing around the village. Cintra, the kingdom Alva was currently staying, was about to fall. The men were right when they're saying that. Even Savilla was under tension these days. She said they could arrive any day by now. 

The Lioness was the Queen of this state. Calanthe of Cintra, known also as the "Lioness of Cintra" and "Ard Rhena" called by the Elders. The mother of Pavetta, and grandmother of Ciri. She was known for her bravery and beauty. That is at least what she figured while serving in the tavern. She heard tons of rumors but couldn’t understand what that meant for her.

Sevilla had already started packing the most important goods and she collected all the money she received. Rarely spending anything except for once. She bought two horses. They weren’t expensive she said and necessary for traveling. 

When the Nilfgaards want to overrule Cintra the will stop here. Their town was called Walen. It’s close to the capital of Cintra. Where the Queen and the King had their castle. It may be a small village but you will get everything you need in this town. Food, animals, tailors, and a blacksmith.

Overall this village was not a poorly town. It had more than enough money to keep everyone well fed through the winter, which was a rare thing in this century. They didn’t necessarily depend on other nearby villages. They made everything they could need by themselves. Sevilla already had a plan figured out. James was still living in his forest and promised to alert them directly if he’d see something unusual and he would try to save them some time. In the beginning, Alva didn’t understand why the had to take all these precautions until the mage explained it to her. The Nilfgaardian Army was strong and powerful. They raided villages, stole their good, and raped the women. Their goal was to overrule Cintra, which means they wouldn’t hesitate to torture the people living here to receive any information they would mark as useful.

It was horrible and disgusting but it was the way this world worked. You have to protect yourself because nobody else will.

The job at the tavern kept her busy. It was quite fun now that Jaskier decided to stay. She liked his singing and his humor, even if sometimes he’d get on her nerves. He was flirting with every woman he could come across and needless to say, it didn’t stay with flirting if the girl agreed.

Gladly Jaskier understood rather quickly not to tease Alva's patience because she didn’t care about the girly behavior this world was used to. She was quick with grabbing any nearby object and chasing the bard with it. Once or twice even with his lute.

She would consider them both as good friends, which is why she was asking the bard about his plans when the Niflgaards arrive. “They don’t scare me. I’m not scared of anything. I could even get some new stories to tell in my songs.”

The bard was sometimes naive but he assured Alva that he knew what was coming and that he will be prepared.

Another day another workday for Alva. It was all peaceful and quiet, especially in the mornings. She liked that shift a lot. But not today. She was the first server to enter and she quickly realized that. Dozens of mugs were laying on the floor, bear and gin spilled everywhere.

“Was there a party I don’t know about?” Alva let that question settle in the room, soon recognizing that no one was there to talk to.

“All right, fuck all of you then.”

“Why you gotta be so mean all the time?” 

The mumbling sound of Jaskier's voice broke the silence and Alva spotted his hat in one of the corners of the room. The rest was hidden behind a barrel. He looked rather ruff. His Jacket was thrown on the chair beside him and his shirt was unbuttoned pretty far down. Thankfully he had his pants still on.

“Because you're sleeping quietly in your corner while I have to scrub the floor that you probably spilled you drink on.” Alva throws her bag at Jaskier, hitting him right in the belly.

“That was uncalled for. And to be exact it wasn’t only me. The men last night were enormously friendly and gave everyone a drink for free. Let me tell you it was fantastic.”

“Glad to hear you had a good time. Did you earn more than usual.”

“Probably. Can’t remember if I shall be completely honest.”

That sounded like typical Jaskier. 

Alva grabbed some towels and a bucket, filling it with water and soap. She dipped one into the liquid and searched for her target. Jaskier was standing a few meters away. His back was facing her.

“Don’t you know that turning your back to someone is just plain rude.” And with these words, the towel was being thrown, right on Jaskier's head. But the bard didn’t seem to mind the wet cloth sitting on top of his head.

“What the hell are you doing Jaskier?” The girl made her way over to him, to take a look at the interesting thing Jaskier was concentrated on. 

She didn’t like was she was seeing. Jaskier had opened her bag and grabbed one of her leather notebooks, Sevilla gave her exactly 3 of them, so she could keep track of this world and for anything else, Alva wanted to write down.

“You lied to me!” Jaskier let out an offended sigh. “You are a bard yourself and you didn’t tell me? I'm deeply offended, Alva.”

Alva tried to snatch the book out of his hands, unsuccessfully. “Jaskier, I will kick your ass! Give it back!” Jaskier was probably about 1 ½ head taller than Alva. That made it far more difficult.

“Why would I? These are amazing. Why did you hide them from me?”

“I’m not a bard Jaskier. I just like to write songs, get it?”

“You have to sing for me sometime or at least allow me to use some of your poetry.”

“For Christ's Sake Jaskier give me the book or I will kick you in your balls and that is a promise.”

Jaskier's shocked eyes stared her blank in the face. “No need to threaten me. But I've heard worse than that.” The bard still didn’t give the book back. Alva was struggling to get hold of his arm, that he held far up in the air. 

“That’s so romantic. May I quote ‘I've been hiding for so long, these feelings they’re not gone, can I tell anyone?’ What a poet you are little girl.”

“Jaskier I’m begging you, please stop!” Alva knew what the next line read. And she knew in which time frame she was captured. This will not end well.

“Why this is adorable! ’Afraid of what they'll say, so I push them away. I'm acting so strange.’ Does someone have a crush on good ol’ Jaskier?”

“Jaskier you don’t want to read further trust me.” Alva stopped reaching for her journal. It wouldn’t change what would happen next, she was too small and Jaskier to stubborn.

“’ They're so pretty it hurts. I'm not talking 'bout boys, I'm talking 'bout’ … oh.” There it was. Would he hate her now? Was she about to be abandoned from this village? She had no idea what would happen next.

“I’m sorry, Alva. I didn’t me to intrude your privacy.” Jaskier looked ashamed. That was a surprising sight. He quietly closed the book and handed it to her. She grabbed it and stuffed it bag in her back.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“No, don’t be afraid. I don’t mind that. It’s just a bummer, I thought you had a swarm for myself. I guess I was wrong.” Jaskier let out a friendly laugh and scratched the back of his head.

“Wait, you don’t hate me?”

“Why would I? I mean I’m fond of women myself so why would I blame you? I’m just a little bit disappointed. I thought maybe I had a chance to win you over, at least for a night.”

Alva punched Jaskier softly in his side. 

“You’re a douche. But if you want to know. I still think men are attractive. But in my opinion, women are as well. So why exactly decide?” Alva tried her best to explain Jaskier with the easiest way that she’s bisexual.

“Does that mean I still have a chance of winning you over?” Jaskier's typical smirk was setting and he wiggled with his eyebrows.

“Technically yes, but no thanks.”

“That was disappointing.”

The day went quietly after this. Alva was happy about the fact that Jaskier didn’t mind her sexuality at all. He was indeed a great friend. He kept it a secret as he promised. And he didn’t change one bit.

A couple of weeks later they were walking back from the village that was next to Walen. It was a one-day march but it didn’t bother them. Sevilla sent Alva to get herbs she ran out of and Jaskier gladly announced himself as her companion. He didn’t want her to get lost and a woman should never walk alone, in his opinion.

It was only about a half an hour walk left, they were just arriving in the forest of James when they saw black smoke rising from the direction they were heading. “What the hell?” Alva didn’t understand what that was supposed to be. It was new to her that the village people used smoke signals.

“That’s not good.” Jaskier started to run, Alva behind him. What’s happening? “Why are we running?”, called Alva so Jaskier was able to hear her through the cracking branches they were running over.

“I think Nilfgaard reached Walen! Hurry!”

Anxiety was crawling up her throat. This couldn’t be real. Sevilla warned her but she never took it that seriously. She thought this would never happen.

“Alva!” The familiar voice of James was ringing in her head. The Godling used this method a lot to talk to Alva without needing to be seen.

“What is happening, James?” “Nilfgaard raided the village not even ten minutes ago. You need to run away! Not in the direction of the village! It will be your death!” The Godling was panicking like a child. His voice sounded helpless.

“I have to make it. I need to see if Sevilla is okay. Can you shield us? I beg you, James.” Alva needed to flee with Sevilla, she was not going to leave her there. “I try my best. But there are too many. You won't have much time.”

“I don’t need long, just help us!”

In the far Sevilla's house came in sight. It looked like normal, only the pots and jar outside the house were broken.

“Be quiet. I saw some soldiers not far from here. It's Nilfgaard. We have to leave!” Jaskier was pushing her in a bush, trying to have at least a little bit of cover. Screams and cries became audible. Uncontrolled and painful.

“Sevilla had a plan. I need to get her. We have horses. You can come with us Jaskier. But I need to get Sevilla, do you understand?” Alva was determined. 

She was not going to leave her. She was like a mother to her, all this time. She gave her a home when anyone else would have left her to die. The girl pushed the fabric of her dress aside, grabbing the hidden dagger.

“You are crazy! Going in there.”

“You will not stop me.”

“Alright then. Let’s go, you crazy girl. When we die, at least we’ll die together.”

They were slowly approaching the cottage. Trying to make out any sound.

“There is no one around you. You can enter.” James was back in her head. Alva didn’t hesitate anymore, breaking through the door.

It was horrifying. Everything was broken. All of the herbs were ripped out of their pots. All of their clothing was laying ripped on the floor. The fireplace was burning and tons of papers were stuffed into it.

But the worst thing was yet to come. Sevilla was laying on her stomach. The back part of an arrow was sticking out of her back.

“Sevilla!” The girl let out a shrieking scream. Jaskier quickly covered her mouth and held her in his arms. 

The was so much blood. All of her clothes were colored in a dark red. She wasn’t moving anymore.

“Alva, you need to listen to me.” Jaskier was grabbing her face and trying to get her to focus. “I know this is hard but you have to grief later. She wouldn’t want you to die here. You told me she protected you, I understand. But we have to leave.”

Alva was frozen, not even noticing her tears falling to the floor. “I can't keep them away much longer Alva!” A panicked voice ripped her out of her trance state. 

She wouldn’t want her to die. She has to live for her. “T- The rug. Under the rug.” Jaskier pushed the carpet aside and a hatch became visible.

Jaskier opened it and there were 6 bags stuffed together. Each of them grabbed three.

Alva was still looking at the corpse of Sevilla. She was lost in this world once again. No help to escape it.

“The horses! Where are they, Alva?” Jaskier started to panic like the girl. 

“Behind the house in the shed.”

Both ran outside, with a last glance at the mage they left. The horses were still outside, visibly unsettled.

“Help me saddle them. Hurry up!” They fixed the straps and secured the bags. While doing that a not fell out of the pockets attached to the saddle. Quickly picking it up she stuffed it on the inside of her pants. 

“You need to ride with this dress. Are you able to do that?” Jaskier wanted to make sure the girl stayed focused. It was the most important thing at the moment.

“N-no, I can't. B-but.” She held up her dagger and sliced the fabric of her legs. Ripping every single part of it off her body. Anger was building up in her body. “Stop that! We don’t have time for one of your outbreaks. Get up! Now!” Jaskier helped the girl on the horse and fastly climbed on the other one.

The horses picked up on speed. They could sense that they were in a dangerous situation. Alva looked back at the small village she called her home. But now she has to travel into the unknown with a bard my her side.

#geralt #angels & demons #butcher of blaviken #cirilla #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x femaler reader #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt x you #the witcher #the witcher au #jaskier #jaskier x female reader #jaskier x you #jaskier x reader #jaskier x y/n #white wolf #hebry cavill #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #angels and demons #a&d #a & d #the witcher imagine #geralt imagine

[myfalsedevotion]

hi! i know this is coming out of no where but i just had to say thank you for writing "all the hues of blue" series! i've been reading it for the last couple of weeks and i finally caught up to the latest update. english is not my first language so im trying to write this the best that i can haha. also sorry for how long this is! i hope everything gets through.

i was a giant fan of 5sos back in 2013-2015 and thanks to quarantine and a good friend of mine who only now got into the boys, i got back to the fandom. i used to read lots of muke and cashton was always to side couple who had their shit together. for some reason now that i came back i decided to look more into cashton on ao3 and on the evening of yom kippur (where i was planning to fast) i came across your update and i saw it was a 3 part series that's over 300k as of right now, and let me tell you i was freaking out. i spent all the fast basically reading the first few chapters, consuming it without stopping. also that friend who got me back to 5sos? she gets to hear all about your amazing series. we literally spent hours talking about it because i just had to share how beautiful it is with someone, she is so invested in it without even having read it and she keeps asking me for updates!

ok so i wanna start with how your writing is one of a kind my friend, i feel myself so immersed in the story that im happy when they're happy, im crying when they're crying, im anxious when they're anxious (you get the deal)

this story hurts in the good way, the way it deals with grief is truly remarkable

i love how you write calum and ashton, as separate people and as a couple, a team. i love how even when everything developed between these two very fast it still felt so neutral for them ya know? i love how they address it and they know it may seem it's too quickly how they became this close, but for them it makes sense, it's their pace, fuck everyone else's thoughts.

another thing that i love is how all the friendships work, you got ashton and luke in which luke was there for ashton for so long, he didn't push him and he just has this understanding of what ashton needed. you got calum and michael who are best friends from childhood, basically brothers, and michael is seriously so funny. he's also such a support system for calum and takes care of him. and you got luke and cal, and ash and mikey, and michael and luke and i could just go on an on about every dynamic but this would never end lol.

one more thing is the family theme that is very strong in this fic. as much as i love romantic storylines, im always much more of a sucker for family storylines. the bond ashton and calum have with their siblings gotta be my favorite. and obviously their relationship with their parents hits hard. also loved seeing how they developed the relationship with the others family.

my thoughts are all over the place and i could basically discuss every scene you wrote but i don't know how to put it into words askjdlshg, SO JUST KNOW THAT I LOVE IT

so thank you for writing this, it means so much to me, definitely became in one of my top 3 favorite fics of all time. can't wait to read more from you ❤️

Hii!!! Just know that this message made my entire day, I can’t stop smiling 🥰🥰. I admit I also cried a little because you’re the sweetest person ever, and reading how much you’re enjoying All the Hues just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, and knowing you feel with the characters just as I felt when writing it idk, it makes me really emotional. And idk, knowing this thing I put my time and heart into actually keeps anyone company even if it’s for a while, just means a lot to me 🙈🙈💙💙.  

When I first started writing All the Hues I intended it to just be a little Christmas one-shot, I kid you not hahaha. And then it evolved into this giant thing, where everyone had a backstory. And it was really important for me not only writing about romance (even though I promise you I love it), but also about friendships and family. Love in general, in every form. And not any friendship is the same, because not every character is the same. One thing I’m somewhat proud of is that the only time anyone properly exchanges ‘I love you’s as such in the first fic is when Ashton opens up to Luke. And I really felt like that was important. 

As for families and siblings, idk... I’ve read a lot of fics (probably in the 1000s) at this point in my life, I’m not even kidding hahahha, and I never really found any that had a sibling relationship that felt like the one my brother and I share, so I tried to base the ones on All the Hues off of that. Just happy to hear it didn’t come out as cringey as I thought it did hahhaha

Thank you, so, so much for taking the time to write this. I can’t say just how much I appreciate it. I truly, truly do. Thank you  💙 💙 💙

P.S.: never ever ever apologise about English not being your first language! You write it perfectly as far as I can tell! Also, English isn’t my first language either, and the fact that we’re both able to communicate through it so brilliantly just highlights how capable we are. We’re actually speaking a whole second language. That’s awesome! Love that for us ✨✨

[sns-tropes]

fic: heart in your hands: ch10

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6,

Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

chapter summary: Just when he thought he had it figured out, he's lost again. His only compass: a loudmouth blonde.

pairing: sasuke/naruto (ninja!verse) post-698

rating: Mature

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: heyyyyy peeps. uhh so i was gonna scrap this whole fic. but then i thought, hey, no, i'm actually proud of this thing that i did. so anyway, here's another chapter. it's kind of angsty lowkey. i'm semi-satisfied with this chapter. hope you guys like it.

- jeni

The balcony is chilly. Sasuke lets the smoke fill his lungs through the end of a filtered stick of tobacco. He looks down over the side of the railing. He can see Shikamaru down there, striding slow, hands in his pockets like usual. Shikamaru looks up at him. Sasuke can’t see expression very well. He can’t see anything very well lately. He might need glasses. He might really be going blind by the time he hits thirty. Maybe even before.

It’s not light out yet. The sun hasn’t come up yet. There’s just a dim promise of it starting to creep up over the Konoha treetops in the distance. He sighs deeply. He doesn’t change out of his sleep pants and he doesn’t put his shoes on either. He strides through the apartment passing a sleeping Naruto in the bed, not bothering to put his cigarette out. Smoke briefly billows as he passes to the front door and down the steps. He feels strange, and a little too exposed. Shirtless. Armless. Makes him glad the village is still asleep.  

Shikamaru is there at the base of the steps, standing on the cobblestone quite expectantly.  

He raises a brow, taking in Sasuke’s demeanor.  

“You haven’t slept.” 

Sasuke takes a drag silently and blinks slowly, letting that be his only answer.  

He gestures for Sasuke to walk with him. Sasuke follows for a morning stroll, still not caring about being barefoot. He feels reckless this morning. 

He doesn’t know why they walk towards the gates. It seems like a mute point to come here. It used to be a place where he stood so many times and looked back at the village with the thought that he would never return. Funny how as much as he wanted it, it never quite worked out.  

“Why’re we here?” Sasuke mumbles around nothing, pulling another cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with pure, concentrated chakra.  

Shikamaru smirks, amused. “I’ve created a monster.” He says teasingly. 

Sasuke shrugs. “Maybe.” 

Shikamaru holds his hand out in waiting. Sasuke hands him the pack. Shikamaru lights his own quite mundanely with a regular lighter, mumbling something about how he’s not as crafty as Sasuke. 

“You didn’t pass.” 

“I didn’t.” Sasuke confirms, surprisingly feeling no tension over the confession.  

“What did Naruto say?” 

Sasuke smirks, eyes fixed on the thick brush of the forest. “That I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.” 

“He would say that.” 

Sasuke hums in response, taking another drag. Naruto isn’t angry or disappointed. Naruto loves him. But why does Naruto doubt him? Why does he think he’ll leave again? He never said it out loud, but his subconscious says otherwise. Sasuke is at an impasse with himself. Naruto fears are buried so deep that he’s not even fully aware of them. Sasuke doesn’t know how to bring something like that up.  

Perhaps if there’s nothing grounding Sasuke to the village, Naruto assumes he will have no reason to stay here at all. And then he he’ll simply leave him. Leave him like he’s always done.  

“What now?” Shikamaru pries, picking up on Sasuke’s brooding easily. Not that it’s hard to do in the first place. 

“Wanna run away.” Sasuke half jokes. 

“Shut up. No you don’t.” Shikamaru scolds, somehow managing to sound bored like always, but in a weird, wise kind of way. “What about Naruto?” 

Sasuke laughs bitterly. “Want him to run away with me.” 

Shikamaru scoffs. “You’re living in a romance novel.” 

“So?” He says defiantly. So what if he is? Is that so bad? It's about time he did. 

“So you think he would really do that?” Shikamaru  asks, almost condescendingly. 

“Don’t know.” 

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything. And it doesn’t show besides the slight tremor in his hand, but he is terrified. Terrified of even bringing it up. He was terrified always. Even a few months ago when he first brought it up. When he threatened to leave again and Naruto doubled over in sheer panic, losing his breath at the very thought.  

“Tell him.” in a natural situation, it’s a fair suggestion, but really, it’s not. He doesn’t understand. 

Sasuke laughs bitterly at this. Tell him he says, like it’s really that easy. Like it’s so feasible. Shikamaru doesn’t know about how Naruto’s breathe stops in his lungs, how he doubles over in fear, how he has haunting dreams about being left all alone again.  

Sasuke can’t bear that. It makes him wince with regret to even think about how long it went on over the years. 

“You don’t have to run away Sasuke.” Shikamaru states, tone laced with finality. “Don’t tell him you want to run away. Tell him you want to leave. And then ask if he’d like to come with you.” 

“Okay. That’ll go well.” He quips sarcastically. 

“You’re so fucking thick sometimes.” 

“Excuse me?” He deadpans.  

“You don’t have to be permanently gone. You’re not going missing-nin, jackass. Just go away for a while. Both of you. Take a damn vacation.” 

“Vacation.” He repeats, feeling dumb. 

“Yeah. A vacation.” He’s never heard Shikamaru talk so much. “Then come back.” He finishes his stolen cigarette, then crushes it in the dirt. 

Sasuke looks down at the glowing ash as it dies down, his mind buzzing as Shikamaru walks away from him. 

Sasuke looks into field study. He knows it’s a long shot, and it kind of feels like he’s reaching at this point. But he knows that if he wants to leave with the promise of returning, he can’t come back empty handed.   

He sets an appointment with Sakura for late afternoon. Yes, an appointment. Apparently, she's much too busy to meet casually. When he sits down in her office she looks tired, but concerned. She seems eager to hear him out. She looks at him expectantly, knowing that he failed his evaluation.  

He’s not sure how to open the subject. Her eyes scan over the meeting request, so formal and strange.  

“You smell like smoke.” 

He hums in affirmation, ignoring her nose scrunching is displeasure and she reads on. 

“Field study?” She deadpans. “What did they do to you during that exam?” 

Sasuke sighs, displeased. Not what he wanted to hear. 

“No, no, I'm not rejecting the idea.” Her eyes lift, tossing the useless form in the trash. “There isn't much to cover. Field study is for Shinobi that suck at being shinobi.” 

He knows that. At this point, he feels like he kind of sucks at being one. Or at least, that’s the way everyone here makes it feel. 

“Is there anything open?” He asks, ignoring the aggravating thought. 

“Your kind of over-qualified... and the only thing I can think of that would suit you is elemental Ninjutsu. Which is already being covered by more than the necessary researchers.” 

He crosses his arms and sits back in the chair, not satisfied. 

She takes in his demeanor, and perhaps for the very first time, sees through it. She sighs deeply, pulling out a large spiral bound text of who knows what, flipping to a tabbed page. She scans over it. He waits. 

“There’s one.” 

“What is it?” 

“Kagero village.” 

Sasuke doesn’t even know where that is, or what the hell he would find there. But it seems like that’s all she’s got. 

“In the land of the mountains. There’s word that that the small village has unconventional methods of enhancing their chakra abilities, but not honing it for any type of physical or elemental ninjutsu. Seeing as Genjutsu is one of your strong suits, this would be ideal for you also.” 

“Suspicious.”  

“Yes, we think so too. But it also could just be rumors. For all we know, they could just practicing intensified meditation, or perhaps spirit healing. It’s all mysterious right now. The entire study would be about a year’s journey. Which is short for a field study.  You would have to write a lot, speak with a lot of villagers, and most likely have to take up a semi-permanent residence. Traveling to neighboring villages for intel is also part of the job. The report is expected to be long, detailed, and handwritten in black ink.” 

Sasuke gulps. “What’s the objective?” 

“To learn and record. Nothing more, nothing less.” She tells him a clipped tone, clearly working up to a greater statement. “The benefits of completing the study don’t hold much merit. If you find something useful, you could use the study as easy entry to teaching.” 

“Teaching?” He says quietly, staring to feel very unsure. He remembers his time at the academy like a poorly rendered slideshow of angst and irritation. 

“If you wanted. It would be a good start. But there’s no obligation.” 

“What are the qualifications?” 

Sakura laughs. Genuinely laughs.  “Chunin rank is all you need.” 

Sasuke rolls his eyes. Of course, everything is still about stupid ranks and politics. And of course, the one thing he needs for this mission is the one thing he never got. 

“You’re joking.” 

“No. Normally you would have to rank Chunin or higher. But going through the exam now... Well- that would clearly be unfair. Especially with that.” She says, gesturing to his Rinnegan. Makes sense. “I’m sure Kakashi will clear you. Your skill outweighs your rank any day.” 

He doesn’t need flattery. He just came for a job.  

“Can I think about it?” 

“Of course. It’ll take at least a week to clear you, maybe two. And then a few days for briefing”  

He nods mutely. She crosses her arms, surveying him, gaze slightly scrutinizing.  

“Sasuke, field studies... they're not lone missions. It has to be two or more shinobi.” 

“I know.” He says flatly. 

She purses her lips, looking accusatory. She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it. He feels like pushing the envelope. 

“What?” He snaps. He doesn’t mean to. It’s that temper. 

She leans in. “I know you want to get out of here. And right now, this seems like the only way. But... you should consider others as well.” 

He scoffs. He hates when she talks like this. Like she knows everything. He stands to leave, worried that if he stays any longer, he’ll say something unnecessary that he can’t take back. He feels like a child being scolded. 

“Sasuke.” 

He stops at the door. Waits. 

“It doesn’t hurt to ask him. But don’t do anything irrational if you don’t like his answer.” 

He closes his eyes. Tries to breath, and leaves. 

He only wants one thing right now. Well, two things. He wants to be with Naruto, and he wants to not think about anything. The complex is so quiet. He comes into a mostly dark apartment. Naruto is laying the bed, sound asleep. He looks peaceful, unmoving and breathing evenly. Sasuke sighs deeply, a part of him wishing that He came home to Naruto awake. He’s spent the whole day away from him. He didn’t mean to.   

He changes into something more comfortable and turns on a dim lamp in the kitchen. The space is small. He can see Naruto halfway covered in the bed, as he puts a tea kettle on the stove, only a small table in the middle of the path.  

He leans against the counter as he prepared himself a cup of tea. Mint. It’s supposed to calm him down. He’s not sure if it actually works. He boiled extra hot water, just in case Naruto wakes up. 

He lets the leaves soak. His eyes hurt. They feel tired and strained, and often not like they're his own. Partially because in some way, they aren't. He wonders if it ever bothers anyone. Sometimes he forgets it’s there until someone like Sakura points it out.  

He doesn’t think that Naruto minds it. Just like Naruto doesn’t mind that he doesn’t want to utilize prosthetics for his arm. He respected the decision, and even looked at him with reverence when he made the decision. A silent understanding passed between them. That’s something that he could never give up.  

It’s great that they’ve been talking, that they’ve been communicating better, But Sasuke thinks he values the understanding in their shared silence more than anything else. They don’t have to talk. Not if they don’t want to. And somehow, he knows that everything will still pass between them with clarity.  

It hurts to have this looming over him. He wants to do the field study. He really does. It sounds nice to just listen and live and learn, feeling unrushed, and unpressured to live up to anything, simply going day to day journaling all he finds. Which could be significant, or it could be nothing. There’s no expectation other than him simply writing it all down. He would have a year's time to think and reflect and get back to himself again.  

But he can’t do it alone. He can’t do it without Naruto. And that’s the thing, isn't it? Is that he doesn’t know if Naruto would ever do such a thing. He has yet to even think of how to present it. But maybe Shikamaru was right. Maybe he should just say it.  

And maybe he will. Not now, and maybe not even tomorrow, but he will. And he won’t do anything irrational. He’s promising himself now. He’s not going to be that person anymore. He can’t. And maybe Naruto says that he doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone. But that isn't really true. He does. To one person. Just Naruto. 

His thoughts are suddenly brought to a halt. Naruto shifts in the bed, looking disturbed from his peaceful sleep. He tosses around, an irritated whine leaving his lips. He faces away from Sasuke now. He can’t see his face anymore. Sauske sets the mug down on the counter, eyeing him curiously. 

His concern spikes when he sees Naruto’s shoulders start to shake. He thinks that at first, he’s imagining it. But no, he isn't. He continues to shake, and before Sasuke can even move towards him, he hears a small sob muffle against the pillow.  

Something pangs in his heart. Something strange and sometimes foreign feeling, even now. He makes his way to the bed and scoots up beside Naruto, where surprisingly, he seems somewhat awake.  

Sasuke blinks at him, not knowing what to think. He’s hurting. Something hurts.  

“Why are you crying?” Sasuke whispers so low, he’s not even sure if he really said it out loud.  

Naruto scoots closer, reaching for him. “You’re here?” His voice cracks. Sasuke’s heart thunders with worry. 

“I’m here.” He says softly. “I’m here, Naruto.” He reaches up to push blonde hair off his face and look into his teary eyes. They’ve become so sensitive now. Maybe it’s age that’s made them weak like this.  

“You were gone.” He says hollowly, like it’s some kind of premonition.  

Sauske scoffs gently and pulls him close. “I was at the council building.” 

“For what?” 

“Looking for a job.” and he thinks that that's all he’ll really say about it for now. 

Naruto doesn’t press. He stays quiet. Sasuke feels tired, but he doesn’t really want to go to sleep. And Naruto, even though he was sleeping before, is wide awake now. And it seems that they’re content like that, just staring on at each other for no reason in particular.  

And then he sees it. He sees that mirror again. That mirror of pain. Of suffering. Of fear and anxiety. He sees himself, and he sees Naruto. He sees bright blue eyes that can be broken one moment and so hopeful the next. He sees someone who only built him up even when he was landing a punch.  

He sees this person in from of him, lying in his bed in the late hours of the night and he can’t help it.  

He loves him. He loves him so much. 

He touches a hand to his face, and Naruto allows the comfort. He’ll allow any comfort. He asks silently with only his gaze and he think’s maybe he hears and answer through the slow blinks of Naruto’s bright eyes, even in the dark. 

He kisses him. He presses his lips to Naruto and tries so hard to let it say everything he has yet to say out loud. And Naruto breathes it. He curves himself into Sasuke’s space and wraps his arms around him, like he might disappear if he doesn’t.  

Naruto bristles away sleepily after a moment, and tries to ignore the ache of fear that still lingers in his chest. He’ll voice it. He voices everything. 

“You’ll be here in the morning?” 

Sasuke kisses him again, much softer than he thinks he ever has.  

“I’ll be here.”

#hiyh #sasunaru #narusasu #sns #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #naruto #jeni #heart in your hands #ch10 #yhhimh

[austenpoppy]

A review of "The Wonderful Won-Won" chapter 4 (part 1 because I'm a fangirl)

@hillnerd I said I would do it after my exams to take the time to say all I wanted to say and so do justice to your work, so here I am ! I always keep my promises. But Tumblr would not let me reblog this particular chapter, that's why I had to do a separate post.

Edit : I have seen your post about your father. I send you my best regards and all the hugs. I know it is hard. Love you. I know it's not much but I hope it will cheer you up a bit.

So if you want to find the chapter I'm talking about, go see Hillnerd's blog or follow this link : https://m.fanfiction.net/u/666390/

I recommend you all the other fics written by Hillnerd, they're fantastic.

So... yeah, my reaction to your chapter when I read it for the first time...

OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! Oh mon Dieu !

I'm smiling, a huge grin on my face even if nobody can see it because I'm alone, in my student room, at 2am and I'm too lazy to revise. I'm squealing on my bed, my face is tear-strained because I cried, and I feel very emotional. I swear, my heart swelled at least twice its size !

This is definitely one of my favorite chapters in fanfiction ever.

Let's go back in time to see what happened :

"The brain's tentacles were ripping him to shreds and reality was warping around him as an unsteady pulse echoed in his ears. Spiders the size of houses walked over him while their young devoured his limbs, leaving him unable to move. Powerful convulsions constricted his chest and air bellowed over his shredded lungs. All he could feel was pain, a tangible darkness, and the sensation of being drowned, but backwards?"

It feels so realistic. You got all the sensations of being in great pain yet being unable to move. I especially love "the unsteady beat in his ears". The spider anecdote makes me shudder. How awful !

"The only real thing he could think about, besides the pain, was her. What was her name again?"

Oh man, Hermione is on his mind and in his heart at all time, even in his darkest hour. She's the only thing that can take his mind off pain *eyes water*

The convulsions struck again and again. He longed to be able to lose himself in the darkness, but something kept tethering him to the unimaginable pain. He was drowning again, and his limbs were back, stiff as lead.

No no no my Ronnie is suffering so much he wants to black out, and what if the darkness meant death ? How come this is totally canon ? How come I enjoy this ?

If he could only say her name one time, maybe all of this would end? It almost seemed like an answer to a riddle. He just couldn't think what the riddle was or what the name was he should say. It was like trying to hold a fist full of sand, with each grain slipping through his fingers until he only had a few grains left.

Argh, my little Romione heart. Touché. He tries to hold on to her, the key to happiness, the light in the dark, the fire of comfort.

"How long was he—"

It's nothing really. A tiny sentence. But the fact that the person who said it was unable to finish it is just so perfect, so moving - as if the idea of Ron suffering was unthinkable. *eyes water again*

Why could he not control his body?

Oh god, I know this frustration. Your writing is so moving, you are able to convey so much feelings in the simplest sentences.

Ron did as he was told, even though the light was so bright he could feel it throbbing in time with his heartbeat. A loud ringing tone pulsed in his ears, high and sharp.

I can feel exactly what he is speaking about.

"Can I… Can I touch him?" his Mum ask Pomfrey, sounding teary.

Aaaaaaaah you got me again. The hesitation in her voice when she probably wants nothing more, when she probably craves to touch him... That's it, my vision is blurry, I need to take a tissue (fortunately there's a box on my bedside table)

Ron tried to form a word, any word, to say to his mother, but as soon as he could so much as rasp a coughing fit took him. It rattled and tore through him unlike any cough he'd ever had before. Dark red blood exploded from his lungs and splattered the matron's apron. His lungs rattled as cough after cough shook his chest and tore through his throat.

I just felt a pain in my heart. A pang. It's so heartwrenching to see him suffer like this.

Ron had to concentrate, but was able to barely wiggle them and they felt whole enough.

Oh Ron, how can you make me laugh in a moment like this ?

He tried to wipe the back of his arm across his mouth, but his arm just wouldn't move off the bed, lamely twitching at his side. A slimy trail of sputum and blood oozed out of his mouth, but Pomfrey wiped it away with a handkerchief.

All is in the details. I'm picturing Ron, unable to move, his eyes open and unfocus, a trail of blood flowing from his mouth that he can't even wipe and MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT.

"We love you, sweet boy. We love you so much,"

Yes ! Give him love ! All the love ! I love you too Ron !

Ron began to panic as he tried again and again to make words. He couldn't. Tears came to his eyes and he started to breathe hard.

Nooo he can't speak my poor little Ronnie he must be so afraid and nooo he has tears in his eyes, my heart felt another pang why are you so good at this ?! That's it, I need a pause because I am actually crying. I am sniffing in my bed, tears have rolled off my cheeks and dampered the mattress. Damn you !

Ron tried desperately to say yes, but all that came out what a strange sound similar to the ghoul that lived in his attic. He tried to nod his head but it wouldn't do what he said and just barely moved to the wrong direction. What was wrong with him? He was trapped. Trapped in his own body unable to say or do anything!

I just want to hug you so much Ron. I can't but I really, really want to. That's one of the worst things in the world, being conscious but not being able to do anything.

"You are alright. What you are experiencing is temporary. You will be able to speak later. Maybe in a few hours. This is not permanent. The part of your brain that forms speech is injured, but will be healed - probably by the time you wake up tomorrow. You will regain movement in your body as well, but that might take longer before it's completely healed. Do you understand, Ron?"

You are such a good healer Mrs Pomfrey. And you need a raise.

"The bleeding will continue on and off again the next few days."

How come people think that the Bezoar erased every consequence possible of the poison ? Ron did not spend so much time in the infirmary for nothing !

"Hermione was here?" Ron asked, trying to sit up as quickly as he could. Instead his head rose off the pillow a few centimeters and he weakly collapsed back onto the bed. He gave another attempt to sit up, but the Matron of the hospital wing made it impossible to succeed.

He seems so surprised it is awful but so sweet. The fact that he tried to sit up twice pulled at my heartstrings.

"Did Hermione seem upset?" Ron blurted before realizing it was Pomfrey he was asking.

God the sweetheart somebody helps me !

Your heart stopped, and you weren't breathing for a few minutes, so it might take a bit for your memory to be back to normal.

HIS HEART STOPPED ! HE WAS NOT BREATHING ! OH MY FUCKING ALLMIGHTY GOD !

What happened? Why am I in the hospital? Who visited? Who poisoned me? Will I be ok? Was Hermione here? Where are everyone? Was Hermione upset? Is everyone else ok? Where's Harry? When can I leave? Will I be able to play quidditch? What potions do I have to take? Where is Hermione? Should there be all this blood? Are you sure this is normal? When will I be able to walk again? How am I going to the bathroom? Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk? When will I be able to sit up on my own? Why can't I use my hands? Do I still have to do my homework? Can't I drink more water than that? When can I eat? Can Hermione visit me again?

Oh. My. God. My heart swelled. I am once again crying thank you very much my bed is now full of dirty tissues. But like, this list is one of the sweetest and most heartbreaking things ever. I need to squeal. So I put my phone aside and do just that (which means rolling in my bed, laughing and probably looking like a maniac). "Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk ?". How perfectly insecuringly Ron that is (yes I invent words and no I don't care) ? "Is everybody else okay ?" . Man you just got poisoned, you are in unberable pain and you still ask for everybody else ? You're just so... so caring and I love you ! "Can Hermione visit me again ?" God the sweetest of sweethearts 2.

He coughed and felt some blood beginning to make its way down his throat. 

Somebody do something ! My little Ronnie ! Bad, bad Draco !

How could one person look so perfect and make him feel magically better?

He's so in loooove. That's why I love Romione : the raw love and painful need for each other.

 Well, better besides the feeling that he was choking on blood and couldn't fight off a possessed scrambled egg if he had to.

How dare you make me laugh again ? A possessed scrambled egg *snorts loudly*... I'm laughing through my watery eyes...

...he couldn't help but smile.

That's my sweetest of sweethearts Ron 3. He is in pain yet he smiles because the person he loves most is there and he's my little sun.

Last thing he wanted was the sight of bloody teeth sending Hermione away.

*snorts again* *then feels her heart pang again because it's an horribly sad piece of humor*

Ron could vaguely recall reading something about a poisoning, so nodded, hoping that would leave him alone with Hermione.

*shakes her head and smiles* That's so Ron. He just wants to be with the people he cares about.

"You're really here," Ron smiled hopefully. He thought he'd never have Hermione to himself again. She was biting her lip with worry, but she was there. She was beautiful, though a bit paler than usual. Was she in the hospital wing because she was injured? "How are you feeling?"

FOR F*CKS'S SAKE ! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME ! SH*T ! I NEED ANOTHER TISSUE ! AND I AM NOT HALFWAY THROUGH THE CHAPTER ! P*tain de b*rdel de m*rde ! It is so incredibly perfect and moving and Romione-y. The fact that Ron does not believe his eyes that she cares for him, that he smiles hopefully, that he thinks he would never be with her again, the fact that Hermione is biting her lip but does not say anything, and the selflessness of Ron who as usual does not think about himself at all but worries about his loved ones even though he just got poisoned...

"Better, now that you're awake."

My Romione heart swelled again.

Her hand gently made its way into his, sending a thrill through him like the first time he'd ever ridden a broom. He tried to squeeze it hard back, partly to ground himself that this was real, and partly to let her know something of how happy he was to see her, but all he could manage was a limp clammy hold. She didn't say anything to him, simply putting another hand on top of his one weak one.

I am at a loss for words. I am just so emotional. This image of them together is exactly why I love Romione so much. It is very poignant and moving.

"So… I kind of lied. I don't entirely remember what's been going on… I just wanted to see you," Ron said quietly.

At this point I just want to cherish this chapter forever and I definitely need another box of tissues, so I stand up and go search it. It's the "quietly" that actually killed me : picturing Ron, searching Hermione's eyes, whispering this to her is so sweet.

"Oh shit! Please don't leave. I'm so glad you're here. It's fine… I can catch up on this crap later."

He is so emotionally open I just... Hermione, cherish this boy.

He honestly didn't care if he sounded pathetic or desperate. She was the one thing he could hold on to when time was bending, and he wasn't sure of what was real and not.

My Romione heart does not thank you for the emotional roller-coster.

"I'm not going anywhere,"

Aaaah Hermione you pulled at my heartstrings. No, not you too ! I have enough heart pangs with Ron thanks !

"Sorry I'm so stupid right now. I just can't seem to keep a hold of things in my mind for long."

There self-depreciating Ron goes again... Like, am I hallucinating, or is he actually apologizing for not being well after having been poisoned ?? #Rontheboywhoapologizesforeverything

"You're far from stupid," Hermione said with her trademark scowl, and he grinned at that. "You were nearly killed. You had anoxia, where your brain didn't get enough oxygen. It's literal brain damage."

Yes, Hermione ! Tell him he's great ! Prevent him from being self-depreciating ! I love it so much when people let their appreciation of him shine through ! And she's so cute when she gets so anxious and worried that she has to ramble about facts, explain things and expose her knowledge !

He almost laughed at being brain damaged, but tears began to pool in her eyes.

Again so perfectly Romione-y. Ron sees the funny side of things, or the sadly funny side of things when he gets self-depreciating, and Hermione cries because she saw all the implications.

If it weren't for magic you might not be able to remember anything ever again, or talk, or move, and could have been mentally infirm the rest of your life. It wouldn't have been temporary. You'd not be yourself and I just — I just can't stand the thought that-that someone as alive and as - as wonderful as you could ever be struck down and unable to be yourself and I was so so afraid I was going to lose you and the last things I ever said to you were-were horrible, and I just —"

Oh my Romione. And my eyes are watering again. She's so devastated at the idea of a tetraplegic or diminished Ron, and I am too, that's the wrongest thing ever in fanfiction; and she's using the world "alive" to describe Ron and that fits him so well, and she feels so guilty that's awful even if it pleases me a little (I hate it so much when in fanfiction Hermione "accepts" to forgive Ron for Lavender. 😒)

"Oh, Hermione, don't—" he said while weakly raising his arms as high as he could so she'd come into them. 

My HEART ! YOU STABBED ME ! I NEED A F*CKING TISSUE AGAIN HE'S SO CARING AND SWEET !

~ Squealing time interruption ~

Hermione needed facts and figures to comfort her. "Hey, according to this parchment, I'm going to be ok, right?"

He knows exactly what to say to makes her feel better and that's instinctive. That's my Ron and I love him.

She gave a great wet sniff and nodded, though she looked even paler than before.

They're so terribly cute together. Hug her Ron, my girl needs it badly !

He'd have to humiliate himself a bit to get her to laugh, but it would be worth it.

So you are once again going to be very self-sacrificing, okay Ron, but what are you talking about ? How could you...

"And apparently there are some spells in place, so we don't have to worry I'll wet myself in the bed, even though I'm so mentally infirm," he said with a conspiratorial grin.

*jaw drops, eyes water (my fucking god I really am a mess and I look like I just had a heartbreak but okay), heart swells with enough Ron-love to fill a swimming pool*

~ squealing time interruption ~

Okay, I'm extremely moved and that's for a very personal reason. I have had 16 general anaesthesias in my life, yet I have always refused, even when I was seven, to use bedpans to... you know, because I am so proud; I hate admitting weakness and that felt so degrading, even if it's totally normal; so for Ron to humiliate himself like that just to make Hermione laugh is quite extraordinary and extremely selfless. I would never have done that.

End of part 1

#now people know why i don't review much #i have literally fifty reviews in preparation but it takes so much time #i am a fangirl at heart #i hope i win the reward for the longest review ever

[izanyas]

Build Upon The Ruins (3)

You know what. I lied about pacing myself here’s the new chapter of the Pacific Rim Soukoku fic.

Rating: M Words: 7,200 Warnings: two separate descriptions of death—one child death, and one murder by strangulation.

[Read from Chapter 1]

Build Upon The Ruins Chapter 3

"Your wrist is fine," Yosano said, taking off her glasses. "You can go back to punching things full force."

Akutagawa only gave her a curt nod in answer. It wasn't more than she expected out of him, and she didn't take it as offense. Akutagawa was always spectacularly bad at letting anyone, even medics, take care of him.

The girl Dazai had hired as a cat sitter, of all things, stood in the opposite corner of the ward. Rashoumon was laying in her arms docilely. Akutagawa exchanged a few whispers with her as they both left—the girl nodded at Yosano before walking out of the door. Her name was Izumi Kyouka, if she remembered correctly. One of the pilot candidates.

Yosano sighed loudly once she was alone. Two days here, and she already felt exhausted, her back aching with it, her head thrumming. She eyed the locked drawer of her desk for a long second, thinking of the cigarettes she kept there. There were only about a dozen left, but she really felt like one. She had about twenty minutes before Double Black's first test drift.

She didn't smoke, but she pocketed the pack before leaving the wing.

The dock was still abuzz with activity from the move. The last five jaegers humanity possessed were all assembled now, all gleaming in the light except Tiger Claw—it still bore traces of its last fight only three days ago, and most of its body was darkened by soot. She walked quickly from the hospital to the labs, waving at Edogawa when she crossed paths with him but not stopping to talk. They had already had their celebratory reunion drinks. He was probably on his way to the comm room anyway.

Kouyou would already be there, she thought. Much as she enjoyed her presence, she was in no hurry to have to watch the test unfold.

She came to a sudden stop the moment she stepped into the labs and took in the sight that welcomed her.

She closed her eyes. Inhaled as deeply as she could.

"What are you doing," she said flatly.

Kajii made a sound closer to a squeak than anyone human should ever utter, jumping around to look at her.

"Nothing," he replied breathlessly.

Yosano glanced pointedly at the giant tube full of viscous something he was trying to hide behind his frail body.

"I'm conducting an experiment," he admitted.

"What is it?"

"None of your business."

Yosano stepped closer, and when he tried to stop her physically, she glared at him the same way she used to glare at Dazai.

Kajii whimpered and lowered his arms.

The thing in the tall glass tube was a lot more recognizable from up close. "Is that a kaiju brain?" she asked, disbelieving.

Kajii seemed to struggle for a moment between his intent to be secretive and his irredeemable need to gloat. "It's a kaiju's secondary brain," he said, voice halway between resentful and proud. "The main one wouldn't fit in this room at all."

"What the hell are you doing with a kaiju brain at all? Hang on." She peered closer at the glass. "Is it live?"

One of the brain's tentacles moved to latch itself onto the glass with a disgusting sucking noise.

"Please tell me you're just planning on vivisecting it," she said. Her head was throbbing harder than before.

"I would never cut open such a beauty," Kajii replied, offended.

"Then why the hell are you carrying a live kaiju brain around? Are you going to keep it around as a pet?"

It said a lot about Kajii as a person that he just looked considering, instead of appalled.

"It's not a pet," he answered with a shake of his head. "I'm trying to extract information from it."

"Ah," Yosano said. "Of course. You should've just said if you wanted to talk to one, Kajii. I'm sure I can convince Nakajima to bring you along the next time he's deployed."

"Please don't," Kajii whispered with obvious panic.

Joke aside, she really wanted to know. She was no stranger to kaiju parts resting in all corners of Kajii's lab, but she had never seen him use brain parts for anything other than dissection. Certainly not an entire secondary brain, live and squirming. Kajii himself was red in the face in a way that suggested deceit rather than just embarrassment.

"Tell me what you're planning," Yosano ordered.

She technically didn't hold any authority over him, but Kajii was more aware than most of how close she was to their boss, exactly, so he paled. "I-I can't."

"Come on." Her voice turned sweeter as she approached him, making his face flush and glisten in the glaring yellow light. "I'm sure it's not nearly as bad as what I'm currently imagining."

Fortunately, Kajii always took every bait.

"It is extremely bad," he protested. "You could never have come up with something that cool."

"Oh?"

"No one's ever tried it before." His unease was shifting, now, turning into the kind of excitement that always loosened his tongue, and Yosano watched it happen with satisfaction. "Which is gigantically stupid, considering we've had the technology available for years."

"Please do tell," Yosano purred.

Kajii looked at her with suspicion for a second longer before relenting. "Okay," he said. "Okay, but don't you go and tell Boss Ozaki about it, all right?"

"I won't," Yosano nodded, planning to do just that.

If anything it would make Kouyou laugh. She hadn't laughed in a while.

Kajii bit his lip, glancing between her and the kaiju brain—whose three remaining tentacles were now suctioning their way up the glass—and then he took in a quick breath and asked, "You know about the certainty of double and triple events in the future, right?"

"Of course." She frowned. "You said the breach would have to stabilize to allow them through. It's why we're attacking in the first place."

"Yes. Yes, I did, that's true." He cleared his throat. "None of this plan would be possible without me."

"We're all indebted to you."

"You are!"

She risked a glance toward her wristwatch as he walked toward his desk. Ten minutes until she had to be in the comm room.

Her eyes snapped back to Kajii when loud metallic noises started ringing through the room; he was taking something vaguely familiar out of his largest cabinet, which appeared to only be half full of repulsive kaiju bits. When he set it on top of his desk, she recognized it. It was an early drift helmet. One of the models once used for testing people worldwide.

"Kajii," she said, understanding freezing into her.

"Let me explain before you try to kill me," he replied quickly.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"It's perfectly reasonable!" He pointed to the brain, his voice high with excitement and arrogance. "My numbers are right, but we need more than just that to be able to make the plan work—we need to know more about our enemy."

"I'm going to kill you," she seethed.

"Yosano," he pleaded. "Listen. The kaiju aren't the real enemy. They're all clones of each other, you know that."

It made her hesitate. "I do know that."

"Yes," he continued. "They're engineered. We need to know who engineered them before we drop that bomb into the breach. We might never drop it at all if we don't know more."

She withstood his eager stare for a long second.

"And drifting with a kaiju is the best option you've got for that?" she asked.

"Yes," he exhaled, looking relieved. "It's the only option I have."

Her breathing hitched, protest rising to her lips, but she didn't have time. "Fine," she said. "Fine. But not now. And certainly not on your own like you were planning to, you absolute madman. Do you have any idea what a drift can do to you with no one to monitor it?"

"Boss will never let me—"

She waved a hand, shutting him up. "I'll talk to her. I need to go now anyway, they're testing Double Black."

"Oh." He looked surprised. "Did they find new pilots?"

"Have you been living under a rock? Never mind, don't answer that." She sighed. "Dazai's going back."

He stared at her in confusion.

"But…" he started. "Chuuya-san can't move a jaeger. I mean, I bet he could if he tried, but then the pain would knock him right out."

Yosano's lips thinned, mind flashing briefly to number of times Nakahara had passed out from the pain in the months following his injuries. He knew his limits now, and he was serious about the medication she allowed him to take—though not as serious as he could be about the non-physical kind of therapy he should be undergoing.

She couldn't really blame him. None of them had the time or will to work through trauma. They wouldn't until the world stopped ending.

If it ever did.

"Dazai has a new copilot," she said lowly.

"You're joking." Kajii sounded more shocked by this idea than that of Nakahara trying to walk in a jaeger, cane and all. His mouth fell at the corners when he glimpsed her expression. "You're not joking," he amended, stunned. "Who?"

"Don't know him. Nakahara just told me he picked one yesterday."

"That's…"

There was no need for him to finish. She understood what he meant perfectly.

"The drift won't be as strong," he said after a moment of silence—it sounded almost defensive, and it made Yosano want to smile.

"Maybe not," she agreed. "But we never needed the drift to be as strong as it was with Dazai and Nakahara to be able to move a jaeger."

It was all that mattered in the grand scheme of things.

"Anyway," she said, looking at her watch again. "I have to go witness that disaster happen. Keep sharp, Kajii—we might need you if the hangar explodes. And do not drift with that thing until I'm here to give you the green light."

He only looked faintly guilty when he promised not to.

Yosano sneezed as she walked out of the lab. She often did. Something about the air there, maybe from the ever-presence of kaiju corpse, made fresher oxygen tickle at her nostrils every time she stepped away. She rubbed her nose and took the direction of the elevators. When she looked at Double Black's silhouette again, she saw that the cockpit was already open.

It was comforting, in a way. For so long the sight of Double Black going into the fray meant victory.

The comm room was warm with human heat and voices, almost feverishly so. Edogawa was shooting orders in rapid-fire succession from his perch atop Nakahara's desk; the girl brought in from the US base, Alcott, was typing at her station almost too fast for the bare eye to see; Nakahara himself was standing next to Edogawa, interjecting lowly every now and then, back straight and eyes alert despite his obvious fatigue.

It would be impressive if not for how pointedly he didn't look in the direction of Dazai and his new copilot, all suited up by the door that would allow them into Double Black's head in a minute. The way Dazai refused to look right back was just as sad.

"Hey," Yosano said, brushing Kouyou's hand quickly once she stood close enough.

"Hello," Kouyou replied softly. "Sorry I missed you this morning."

"It's fine. You needed sleep."

Kouyou had slept like the dead right through Yosano's quickly-fixed breakfast and shower. It hadn't surprised her, considering how long she had spent tossing and turning, anxious about the day to come.

"There's something I need to talk to you about after this," Yosano whispered, eyes fixed onto the tall man suited like Dazai was. She couldn't see his face from here, but his hair was strikingly long. "I saw Kajii on my way—he wants to try something."

"How dangerous is it?"

"Only potentially lethal."

It made Kouyou laugh dryly. Naomi's brother shot her a questioning look as he walked past, but thankfully, he didn't linger. "After this," she agreed. Then she added: "I'm worried."

"About the test? Dazai knows what he's doing."

The entire point of this was that Dazai had extensive experience with piloting and wouldn't let the jaeger fry up or collapse the way so many first drives had done in the early years. They had lost a lot of money rebuilding after tests—more than they had rebuilding after fights, at one point.

But Kouyou didn't reply, face severe in the white light, so Yosano said: "Ah. The other elephant in the room, then."

They both looked at Nakahara.

At least he seemed to be done steeling himself, or whatever it was he was doing while pretending to look at Edogawa's work. His eyes were turned to the duo standing by the door.

Yosano couldn't tell if his face was miserable or just serious, because Nakahara was always too good at not showing weakness. No matter that no one but him thought him weak for it.

"All right," Nakahara said loudly, right as the clock shifted to two o'clock. The room's attention snapped to him immediately. "Let's get started, everyone."

-- 

The pilot suit was exactly as heavy once put on as it looked hanging in the dress rooms. Kunikida's had been fitted to his body measurements the night before, but he hadn't had the occasion to walk around in it before making his way into Double Black's cockpit. The hardest parts to manage were the large boots that would connect to the footholds and carry the legs of the jaeger, but the back and breast plates were unwielding in their own way. His chest knocked against them with every breath he took.

His and Dazai's footsteps were loud against the steel floor of the machine's head; for a second Kunikida stood still, gazing at the intricacy of panels and trapdoors and buttons littering every wall except for the wide screen. One of them he recognized as the nuclear core's manual overdrive.

"I'll take the right, if you don't mind," Dazai said. "Favorite spot."

Kunikida looked at him, startled. "That's fine," he replied. "Whatever works for you."

Dazai nodded and walked toward the station closest to the door.

He had been acting strangely since they met in the fitting room. Withdrawn. Nothing at all like the arrogant man who had dismissed Kunikida and all the others with mocking glances and biting words the day before.

Kunikida took his place at the left hemisphere, slotting the feet of the suit into the holds designed for it. A man who had introduced himself as Mark was busy harnessing him securely onto the station, asking him to move this way and that to make sure everything worked. He seemed cheerful.

It occurred to Kunikida then that Dazai probably had not stepped into Double Black for a long time. Maybe the forlorn look on his face was nostalgia, or surprise. Whatever it was, Dazai said nothing and didn't look at him. He simply let himself be attached to the body of the jaeger. He barely needed his own helper's cues to test the movements of the suit either—he was extending his arms and moving his legs and neck before she could open her mouth.

Mark and the woman left them a minute later. The sound of the cockpit closing shut and locking itself down was harsh into the metal-like silence.

Kunikida closed his eyes when the connecting gel coated his face under the visor of his helmet. It was unpleasant but nothing he wasn't used to. The wide screen in front of him lit up in the shape of Double Black's own visor, and through it they saw the large window of the comm room.

Nakahara bent over the front desk and picked up something from it—a mic. He looked very small in the distance.

"We're ready to begin," his voice came in Kunikida's ear. "Kunikida?"

"Ready," he replied.

"Dazai?"

"Go right ahead, Chuuya."

There was a second of silence. "Good," Nakahara said evenly. "Initiating neural handshake in thirty seconds."

Kunikida heard the countdown start in his left ear, faint, too measured to belong to an actual person.

At first he said nothing, just paced his breathing to the seconds that the high automated voice numbered for him. Then he heard Dazai shift in his station.

"Feeling all right, Kunikida-kun?" Dazai asked, non-committal.

Fifteen seconds now. "As well as possible," he replied, keeping his irritation in check.

"Still stuck on your first impression of me, then."

"You haven't exactly given me reason to change it."

"That's fair," Dazai muttered. "I do apologize for my attitude. Getting you angry was the fastest way to figure out if this could work, but I was a bit flippant."

A bit? Kunikida thought wryly.

Dazai spoke again before he could say it, though. "I'm sure you'll understand a little better after this."

He didn't sound happy about it at all. Not even in a mocking way.

Five seconds.

"For what it's worth," Dazai said with surprising softness, "I hope this works. I think I could've enjoyed being partnered with you, if things were different. You seem like a good man."

Kunikida's mind protested the praise as it always did, as it always would; he looked at Dazai to reply but found Dazai looking ahead through Double Black's visor—found, when he followed the direction of his eyes, that Nakahara was staring right back, holding the mic to his lips as if he meant to speak.

"Neural handshake initiated," said the automatic voice.

Kunikida felt the familiar pull of the drift tug at the core of him, behind his eyes and mouth and chest. The feeling was usual enough at first that he steeled himself for the empty resonance that ruled all simulation runs with ease, for feeling distanced from his own body so that he could drive another—an empty—one.

All familiarity stopped there.

On the other side of the drift was something just as solid and alive as he was. Kunikida felt his conscious expand to brush it, and understood, when foreign reluctance struck him through the chest, that this was Dazai.

Dazai's mind unfolded a second later through decision rather than acceptance, and then he was there, in Kunikida's head, Kunikida in his.

He held his breath. Felt Dazai do the same in turn.

Keep calm, he told himself—and there was amusement there, not-his, telling him, Good advice.

He forced himself to pay no mind to the memories and feelings he could feel rush through his head. Men and women and children and places he had never visited but witnessed with the familiarity of old friends—a tall, ill-shaven man the sight of whom made warmth gather inside him—a house full of orphans he knew by name without meeting any of them.

There were so many. A whole life jotted precariously in place alongside his own, getting mixed up and mistaken. Kunikida bit his lip to ground himself and force his mind back in the now, in his body, in the heavy metal extensions of it that he could now feel through the jaeger's own limbs.

He felt Dazai ground himself much the same, breaths deep and controlled. He could tell that he was being given the same courtesy; Dazai was seeing things from Kunikida's childhood and life that Kunikida had forgotten—he quirked his lips at one of them, of Kunikida at school teaching his rowdiest classroom. Dazai let it slip away untouched when it left.

"Stabilized," the voice said.

Kunikida was seeing through two sets of eyes when his eyelids lifted, and the sight that greeted them was that of a room full of people smiling. He followed the helpless pull of Dazai's stare as it slid to Nakahara with all the ease in the world.

His chest throbbed with longing at the sight of him. More images unfolded, much starker than the rest—Nakahara's back against the light of the hangar, his face against Dazai's shoulder as he slept during the flight to Yokohama, hair mussed from the occasional jolts of the plane and falling softly over his forehead—Chuuya smiling at him over a table and suffusing warmth into his skin even as he agreed to do the one thing in the world he never wanted to—

Chuuya's mind threaded into his until he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"Kunikida-kun," Dazai said out loud.

Kunikida sucked in a loud breath as he snapped back into the present, every beat of his heart bruising his ribs.

"You all right in there?" said Chuuya. Said Nakahara.

"We're good," Dazai replied lightly—and Kunikida had no idea how he could breathe at all through the agony of fear and love that laced his bones at the sound of Nakahara's voice. "Just getting used to each other."

He had to breathe deeply for several seconds to settle back down. Even then the ache never left. It shone through the drift lowly, highlighting corners of Dazai's mind that felt raw to the touch.

These weren't his feelings to touch, though. Not his memories to browse. Kunikida focused on that thought until he felt physical again.

When he turned his head sideways, Dazai was smiling at him.

"I think we're good," Kunikida said, tearing away from the sight of him. He looked at Ozaki rather than Nakahara.

There was affection and regret there as well, but nothing like the sea of sheer emotion that her second-in-command elicited.

"All right. Ten seconds to stabilization, with some leftover mishaps. Not bad at all." Alcott leaned toward Nakahara to whisper in his ear, and he nodded. "Try moving our friend here a bit."

"Roger that," Dazai said.

It was nostalgia he felt when they both raised their arms, the command immediate through both their brains at once. Double Black raised its own in perfect tandem, its right fist coming to punch into the flat of its left hand loudly.

Kunikida heard the cheers of the comm room over the line, felt Dazai's fondness and amusement and familiarity with the situation course through him bodily. He had heard all of this before countless times. Kunikida's mind washed over with feelings of having fought and won, with memories of kaiju whose wide bodies he had only ever seen shrunk TV-sized but whom he could now recall tearing apart limb by limb.

"Very nice," Nakahara said. His was grinning, but in a way Kunikida knew—Dazai knew—wasn't genuine. "I think we've got everything we needed from you two. Just stay put for a while, Tanizaki's gonna run some tests now."

"Not going anywhere," Dazai replied.

It felt like a promise rather than a joke.

The comm line turned off.

They brought down Double Black's arms slowly. Kunikida stood still in his station, eyes roaming over the cockpit, letting Dazai's deep knowledge of it instill inside of him. He knew what every part of it did now. How it all worked.

"You're handling this surprisingly well," Dazai said. "Nice thinking."

Kunikida breathed out steadily. "It's… different than I imagined."

"Not quite the fairytale, huh?"

There was nothing surprising coming out of Dazai's mouth; Kunikida could think with him as he spoke, after all, however little he understood of those glimpses by the time they ran off. It was as though he were speaking himself. Dazai's body felt like an extension of his own, the way the jaeger did.

"It gets quite uncomfortable sometimes," Dazai continued light-heartedly. It clashed somewhat with the deep longing Kunikida could feel hover around them both, the familiarity and differences from Dazai's previous drifts—Dazai's mind seemed to sizzle every time it relaxed into it and realized the one there wasn't who it wanted. "It's why I didn't want a teenager. No one can help their mind dipping into the gutter from time to time."

Inevitably, lewder images were brought up, from Dazai's past and Kunikida's own. Kunikida reflexively tried to hide them and failed, and only the easy acceptance Dazai let flow through to him allowed him to come out with nothing more than a red face.

That was indeed more than he wanted to know about anyone he wasn't dating.

"Don't worry," Dazai said, amused. "You won't remember all of it once the drift stops. There's only enough room for one life in one's own head."

The regret Dazai felt at that was vivid. Ch—Nakahara's face flickered behind Kunikida's eyelids, and with it the unbearable yearning from before. It was steeped in fear.

"You're…"

Dazai stared at him in silence. He almost looked bored, yet his mind was reeling from what he knew Kunikida wanted to ask. It was braced as if for blows.

"Nothing," Kunikida ended weakly. "Forget it."

Dazai looked away.

The flux of thoughts and memories never stopped, not really. Not even without speech to anchor it. Kunikida felt Dazai drag the memories of his school again and watch them unfold passively, his curiosity genuine but distanced.

"A math teacher," he commented. "I forget not all of us are criminals."

Kunikida's question got its answer before he could ask it—stills of years long gone, the knowledge of having run from the law and then straight into its grasp. These memories were associated with no regrets whatsoever.

He felt Dazai smile longingly even as he kept browsing through Kunikida's mind, his touch delicate and respectful. He carefully didn't approach Kunikida's last memories of his mother, nor did he touch the gritty misery of his teenage years. Kunikida would be powerless to stop him if he tried; the fact that Dazai didn't take advantage of it in spite of what he had said the day before made something shift in his impression of him.

"See," Dazai said in answer, grinning. "We are getting along."

Dazai felt no rancor toward him. At least not personally. If anything what he thought of Kunikida now was a quiet sort of respect, inevitable in the face of the unnatural proximity they were caught in. Dazai thought Kunikida's thoughts and glimpsed Kunikida's memories, and he didn't deface any of them. He didn't try to reach and hurt. He let them pass through and go.

It was more consideration than Kunikida was worth.

Dazai's smile fell the moment Kouda Aya emerged through the tranquil flow of their thoughts, and with her the feeling of a chest caved in from grief and terror, the still-overwhelming guilt of having failed—

"Kunikida-kun!"

Dazai's voice was very far from him. Kunikida's breath caught, his broken ribs making agony spike through him even as he hunched forward to dig through the debris.

"I'm scared," Aya wheezed, face marred with dust and blood, "sensei—"

"Just stay with me."

"I can't—"

"Aya—just, just hold on, I'm taking you to the hospital, okay? Just breathe."

"Dazai, what's going on?"

"He's chasing the RABBIT! Kunikida-kun, listen to me." A jolt in his elbow, caused by a mind not his own even without touch—"They're just memories. You think you're back there, but you're not. It's only a memory."

The kaiju had torn through the ceiling of the school's underground hideout in one try; Kunikida remembered the screams of his students scurrying to run back into the corridor and then out, he remembered watching their heads pass by and feeling relief at each of them he found alive and moving, despite the awful pain ringing through his chest.

Then, Aya's voice, from under the rumble, her face under all the dirt and the blood running out of a cut in her head. Gushing out of her mouth. The steel pipe that had torn into her side.

"Kunikida-kun," Dazai said, grieved with the same loss Kunikida was feeling again, "It's over. There's nothing you can do to save her."

I can, he thought fleetingly. I can run.

His legs were long and heavy, his steps immense. He could get to someone in time.

"Chuuya, you need to turn everything off. He's going to jump."

"Shutting down the drift now could—"

"I know the risks! Just do it, I can't hold him down for long."

Kunikida was aware of the weight holding his legs to the ground and struggling to keep him still, to lower even the arm he cradled Aya's bleeding body with.

"Kunikida-kun," the voice said, breathless from the effort of keeping him grounded, "you're not there. It's already done. I know—I know it hurts, but there's nothing to be done. She's already dead."

"No," he said.

A breath, and then: "I'm sorry for this."

It wasn't Aya's washed-out face in his arms anymore, but the picture perfect memory of a man, pushed forth by the otherness in his own head. Grief turned to cold rage, and Kunikida's formerly gentle hands now folded around the stranger's neck, thumbs digging into his trachea with all the strength of his shoulders.

Kunikida tried to pull back instantly, confusion losing to panic as the man turned redder and redder. He could feel his entire body struggle under him, his palms twist under the pressure of his knees.

Stop, he thought, nausea and shock creeping up his throat, stop—

The man's lips were blue. He had stopped squirming. Dazai kept suffocating him anyway, long past the time he was dead, with blood pooling under his thumbs' nails from the man's skin tearing open. When he rose from his knees, an eternity later, he felt only satisfaction.

Kunikida heaved.

"We have to unplug you."

"Do it," Dazai said coldly.

His mind was slipping now. From cold fury to cold abandon and then cold fear. Dazai wasn't standing in a room of the orphanage with a corpse under his knees anymore; he was in the cockpit of Double Black, but he was strapped to the left, and to the right…

To the right the skull of the machine was open. Wind slapped at the busted plates of his suit, waves crashed onto the metal floor, and then the clawed foot of Fawk lifted at last, from where it had struck down and taken everything in its wake.

Under the folded metal that had once been part of Double Black's armor lay Chuuya. Body twisted around in a parody of the way he slept, helmet broken, wet hair shaking into the tempest wind. Some of it stuck gently to his face, drenched in his blood.

Dazai had never known fear before he had to see him like this through the agony of keeping the jaeger standing. He had never known what it was like to pray until he thought, No, and felt only emptiness call back instead of Chuuya's soul.

All the lights in the cockpit shut out, and Kunikida was snapped back into his own body.

He groaned through the headache that immediately struck him blind. Shrugging out of the helmet at all was a struggle, but the air he gasped in once it was off made up for it, made him aware of the wet residue of the gel over his skin as well as his own tears. He rubbed them off with the gloves of the suit and looked to his right, straining his neck until it ached.

Dazai was in the process of unhooking himself from the station with practiced hands, body twisted away from Kunikida. He ripped his feet out of their bonds and pushed the helmet off of his head. When he ran a shaking hand through his own hair, Kunikida felt his scalp tingle.

He was out of the door the second it opened, before Mark could even get close enough to Kunikida to help him get down.

--

Kunikida stayed in the shower for an hour.

He let the scorching water beat down his body until he was completely red. The steam felt like smoke in his lungs, uncomfortable but not enough to chase the taste of seasalt and the chill of the hurricane. Once he stepped out, numb with heat, he washed his hands seven times.

It still wasn't enough. Grimy dust stuck to his fingertips with everything he touched. Blood had crusted under the nails of his thumbs.

The dining room he had been shown to the day before was deserted when he arrived. Kunikida opened one of the large fridges he found in the kitchen and eyed the food stored inside that he knew he had free access to as a pilot; the thought ached, and he still felt nauseous anyway. He left without eating anything.

There was a smaller common room at the end of the corridor where his dorm was located. More of an opening in the wall than a true confined space. It had taken him some time to remember his way around, but he found it now, just as empty as he had hoped. The TV's screen was black and the remote nowhere in sight, so he just let himself fall into one of the couches.

A minute later, something heavy slammed onto the low wooden table.

He jumped, heart rising his in throat—and then there was someone sliding into the free space next to him, a soft sigh, heeled boots settling atop the table, a long black skirt falling over their hems.

"So," said the voice of the vaguely familiar woman who had just sat next to him. "We haven't been properly introduced yet. Kunikida, right?"

He looked at her properly. She was smiling, her glasses a little dirty, her makeup a little smudged.

"Yosano Akiko," she said. "I'm the head doctor around here. You come to me if you get so much as a weird-looking bruise, got it?"

It took him a while to realize that she had extended a hand forward and expected him to shake it. He did so slowly, mind still hazy from the drift and the shower. When he tried to pull it back, Yosano didn't let him.

She eyed the rubbed-raw skin of his knuckles pensively. "This happen often?" she asked.

His lips parted with some difficulty. "It's nothing."

"Mmh. You're bleeding a bit."

Her foot hooked into the handle of her bag to bring it closer. She rummaged through it for a second before taking out an opaque bottle of what he thought might be disinfectant. The familiar sting against his fingers confirmed it a moment later.

"What do you carry in that?" he asked, nodding toward the bag. Something metallic kept clinging every time it moved.

"The usual. A couple scalpels, a couple bonesaws." She smiled at him sharply. "Just as a reminder that I never want to use them on you."

There was a pause.

"You're joking," he realized.

It made her laugh, brief and loud in the otherwise quiet room. "Yes, I'm joking, Kunikida." She threw him a lopsided grin. "You're a bit of a straightforward guy, aren't you? Dazai and Nakahara always backtalk, I forget what it's like to be around normal people."

She released his hand at last, throwing the cotton into a trash can a few feet away from them. Somehow, Kunikida's fingers felt less soiled after that.

Yosano leaned into the couch with a sigh. She didn't look like she was in a hurry to move anywhere. Her hand dug into a pocket of her skirt that he hadn't noticed was there, and she took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

"I didn't know people still had cigarettes," he said, surprised.

She hummed, sticking one between her lips. Her fingers dragged a matchbox out of the pocket next, and she cracked one against the rough side of it habitually. The flame shivered against the end of the cigarette with a small papery noise. She shook it off with a flick of her wrist.

"I keep them for special occasions," she replied. "Whenever something good happens."

Kunikida thought of the people working on powering Double Black back up while he sat here uselessly and said, "I don't think anything worth celebrating happened."

Yosano smiled softly around her next exhale. "Seeing Double Black move is always worth celebrating, Kunikida. I don't think you realize just how much hope is associated with that big pile of junk. With you for being able to pilot it."

Kunikida had nothing to say to that.

Yosano smoked slowly, letting the silence spread between them. It wasn't uncomfortable. The smell of tobacco was rare enough to be comforting, familiar despite the inevitable burn of it down his throat when he inhaled it. It was a memory of better days. Kunikida's back fitted itself deeper into the curve of the couch, and his hands relaxed in his lap.

"Wanna talk about it?" Yosano asked quietly.

"About what?" he replied.

"The test earlier."

There was nothing to talk about, really. Kunikida felt drowsy with the aftermath of the flashback; his stomach ached at the reminder but he knew he could sleep it off.

Strangling a man to death, watching Nakahara bleed out—those would be harder to overcome.

"I didn't expect it to be so…" he paused, looking for the right word. "So literal."

Dazai had been right; most of the flashes he had glimpsed of the other's life were gone from his mind the way dreams dissolved. All except for the ones he had lingered on. But he could still remember the feeling of it in detail: being in his own head, and then not, and then somewhere in the middle with Dazai around him.

"You lot often say that about drifting," Yosano replied. "I've sat through countless attempted recollections of it—between those who can't shut their mouths about how it feels and those who'd rather die than try and describe it." Her mouth softened. "Dazai's part of the latter."

That didn't surprise him at all.

"Well. The important thing is that it worked." She flicked the filter of her cigarette, making ashes fall onto the concrete floor. "And from what I saw, it worked well, until you slipped."

"Until I slipped," he repeated. His voice was heavy with guilt.

She eyed him kindly. "Don't be too hard on yourself," she said. "You're not the first. And Dazai got you out of it before you could hurt anyone."

"I think—" He stopped. He wasn't sure if he should say it, but Yosano was waiting expectantly. There was no judgment on her face when he glanced at her. "I think he was the one slipping toward the end."

Yosano brought the cigarette to her lips again. The ember's glow shone against her painted fingernails, and when she exhaled, it was without much air. Smoke hovered before her face gently. "Treated you to a peak of the big incident, did he," she murmured.

Thinking of anything aside from the drift-bright memory of Aya dying in his arms had been impossible since the moment Kunikida had felt his mind come back to him. Somehow, though, the equally bright memory of Nakahara lying still and silent under torn sheets of metal came to him easily. His chest shivered from remembered terror.

"What's," he started. His face flushed, but he made himself say it. "Um. What sort of relationship do they have? Dazai and Nakahara."

Yosano snorted loudly—Kunikida felt his face burn. "That's the million dollar question," she said, grinning. "There were several bets running at the time—I'm pretty sure they knew about it too. Competitive idiots. No one did figure out if they were together before Nakahara got hurt." Her tone turned whimsical. "But they were something all right."

They still were. He thought he would've known from seeing the way they moved around each other, even without having felt Dazai's longing grip him by the heart. Everything Dazai did had Nakahara in mind; everywhere Nakahara looked kept Dazai in sight.

Yosano rubbed the filter of her cigarette between her fingers until the remaining ashes fell out, then slipped the stub into the plastic wrapper of the cotton she had used on him earlier. "We don't really know the long-term psychological consequences of drifting with someone," she said softly, looking at the unlit TV ahead. "Pilots die young. Those who aren't dead are still fighting. It's not like there's therapy for that. Humans figured out a way to make people mind meld by sheer luck, and promptly decided to shove those who could in giant robots and make them fight to the death." She smiled unhappily.

Kunikida could remember such speculations in his youth, when jaegers and pilots were no more to him than some faraway spectacle he never thought he'd be a part of. When TV stations held long debates on jaeger technology and how ethical it was.

No one had time for ethics now.

"It's a funny thing, the drift," Yosano continued. "You don't need to do it yourself to realize it. Do you know why they call it a neural handshake?"

"It's like linking hands to make yourself stronger," he replied. "Two people are better than one. Strength in unity and all."

"Yes." Yosano crane back her head to stare at the ceiling. "I like to think it's also because the drift is a greeting."

"What do you mean?"

She was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

"We all know not everyone can drift," she started. "In fact most people can't. It could be genetic, it could be luck, there's plenty of theories. But don't you think it's weird, that not everyone who can drift can drift together?"

Kunikida frowned at her, not knowing how to answer. He had never really thought of it. From the moment he had decided to use the rest of his worthless life to try and save people, he had focused on nothing else. His instructors had told him that compatibility varied, and he had accepted it as law.

"For some people it makes sense," Yosano continued, taking his silence for the admission it was. "Long time spouses. Childhood friends. Siblings, twins especially. It makes sense that people with an already deep understanding of each other might be able to link minds." Her mouth twitched. "And yet we tried to put the Akutagawa siblings in a jaeger together and ended up destroying the first mark-five prototype. They can drift, just not with each other—weird, right? It's not like they aren't close." She let out another sigh before turning to look at him again. "And then sometimes you put strangers in a machine that links their heads together, and it works so well that the strangers don't want to come out of it."

"Is that what happened?" Kunikida asked. "With Dazai and Nakahara?"

Yosano's face softened into nostalgia. "Yeah," she replied. "They barely knew each other. Hated each other, actually. But then we strapped them in place and more or less forced them to drift,"—her expression darkened at the memory—"and it was like they were made for it. The numbers were off the charts.

"It's why I call it a greeting," she went on, looking years back into a past that Kunikida had been shortly privy to, one he had no right to but felt the need to know. "Sometimes it's not about being stronger or reducing the jaeger's load on the brain. Sometimes it's just watching two people meet for the first time in a way most people can only guess at. You could call it luck, you could call it fate…" She blinked slowly, lips soft on her smile, as if the memory alone was enough to bring her joy. "Whatever it is, these two understood it perfectly."

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#bsd #bungou stray dogs #soukoku #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #fic: build upon the ruins