#that still allow them to reassure themselves they are doing so in a civilized way

[tanadrin]

Honestly what you said about corporal punishment made me wonder about amputation in, say, Saudi Arabia. Like, do they put comparable amounts of administrative thought into what ultimately resembles, in effect, Michael Madsen sawing a captive's ear off with a razor?

I don't know about Saudi Arabia, but I do seem to recall that if a victim or a victim's family chooses the lex talionis option in Iran, medical professionals get dragged into amputating the limb (or even in one case, extracting the eye). It's merciful in a way--obviously if you're going to cut off someone's limb, doing it in sterile conditions under anaesthetic is better than not--but it also feels like a parody of medicine, dragooning doctors into explicitly causing someone distress that is supposed to last for the rest of their lives.

The psychology of executioners and torturers is complex--people will, at the end of the day, find a rationale that lets them exist within the system they work in and also sleep at night, if they can--but needless to say, I think it is very rarely good for someone or their worldview to have to normalize inflicting a high degree of suffering for its own sake as acceptable in any context.

#the american medical association forbids its members from participating in executions at least #but american bloodlust means that even if doctors won't help #prison officials will engage in a similar parody of medicine #to try to come up with pseudomedical ways of executing people #that still allow them to reassure themselves they are doing so in a civilized way #even if the person executed actually is suffering profoundly #like i think at a certain point you have to admit #that capital punishment is just inherently cruel and fucked up #and has no place in modern society

[princessamericachavez]

My thoughts about the Ted Lasso finale (no particular order)

The end montage was obviously Ted’s dream for the future and not even subtly so jot that down

Actually just gonna add that this is the show’s way of telling us the potential these characters have and what Ted wishes for them but without his presence it’s up to them now

Roy mouthing alone to Goodbye, Farewell broke me because he’s clearly the one who put together the choreography

Also Dani singing? My most beloved

Jaime and Roy clashing one last time might have pissed some people off but this was always a rock in their shoe that they needed to address and we see that their relationship can and will survive it

I like Rebecca’s romcom ending even if I wanted her to end with Ted.

Ted going back to his son was necessary and the whole point. He always blamed his father for abandoning them. When he came to Richmond he was all but running away from his family in hopes things would magically fix themselves. Instead, he put in the work and healed. But his biggest triggers were always connected to him missing his son’s life. In the end, Ted’s growth was the point so he could go back to them and be the best version of himself for them and for himself.

Ted not talking while Rebecca rambles was actually perfect. Old bitter Rebecca would’ve never opened up like that. But old Ted would’ve also rushed to reassure her or try to make a joke or cheer her up. This time, Ted lets her speak and then sticks to his guns, even if the truth is uncomfortable for others. He allows himself to do this for himself and not to please others.

Beard staying for Jane was foreseeable given the toxic codependent nature of their relationship. Happy perfect endings don’t exist. His story is still developing.

Furthermore, the real growth came from Beard letting himself choose something regardless of what Ted is doing and breaking himself free from a cycle of guilt and feeling in debt.

I know it was in the dream but god I hope Roy gets therapy. We did see the roots of him wanting to change and be better and accept the help he needs so he’s in the right path.

Keeley/Roy/Jamie is still endgame in my heart. Eventually. Once all three are in the right place.

The himbos singing made me cry. A lot.

Even if it was in the dream, if Jamie actually chose to reconnect to his dad somehow I think it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He would get to do it on his terms and only because he chose to have him in his life to some degree. Which might simply be being civil and talking from time to time, so long as his father keeps putting in the work to better himself and takes steps to make amends and apologize and acknowledge all his wrongs. Who knows. It’s an open ending.

Loved everything about the match.

Glad Van Damme got closure from Rani Dojas and that Dani acknowledged his part in what happened and tried to make amends.

CANT believe they made me feel sorry for George.

The cold open was a tease but I loved to see what could’ve been (and who says Ted and Rebecca didn’t find each other while running away from all that noise and one thing less t another…)

I wish we’d seen Sam’s restaurant and his cute chef one last time.

Actually wish we’d had a little bit of all the other himbos.

And finally

Finally

I… don’t think it was the series’s finale. I don’t know. I might be wrong but lately all interviews from the cast suggest deep down they hope something else will come and maybe they’ll be like “you know what, this story isn’t over” or something.

That last scene and the musical cue with Ted’s final shot felt so dissonant to me. Like there’s something still unfinished there.

I, like Roy Kent, have all my fingers crossed.

#Ted lasso #Ted lasso spoilers #tl spoilers

[jae-bummer]

My Idol 3: Part Sixteen

My Idol from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Saturday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in a specific mission to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what four idols will move on to the second date.

My Idol 3: The Series

.

"Shhh," Chan cooed into your hair, pulling you closer to him. Hongseok remained on your opposite side, his hand holding tightly to yours.

You let out another whimper, trying your best not to cry. You could feel San's fingers lightly grazing your shoulders from behind and Hyungwon sat crisscross at your feet, staring up sympathetically. You had been cocooned by the boys you had borrowed strength from for weeks, and now you were taking from them again.

Jungkook and Jackson stood side by side, arms crossed as they watched one of the small screens still connected to the various cameras rolling on stage. Speaking quietly amongst themselves, you all waited with bated breaths.

Where was Hoshi?

"Are you sure you're okay?" San directed toward Chan. During the skirmish, he had also ended up on the ground.

"I had a bad wrist anyway," Chan smiled sadly, flexing his hand that was now wrapped in a bandage. "Someone stepping on it didn't do much more harm than what was already there."

"You two match now," Hongseok joked, looking from San to Chan. He was now sporting a small band aid on his cheekbone, courtesy of a fan trying to grab for him. You knew they were making light of the situation, but it was hard to laugh when you were mostly the reason for both injuries.

Chewing on your lip, you looked up with watery eyes as Insu burst into the room. His expression was wild as he tried to assess what was going on, not calming until he finally set his attention on you.

"Hoshi?" you croaked. As you had all been ushered into a safe room backstage, he was nowhere to be found.

"We have him," Insu confirmed with a tight nod. "His security guard couldn't get to him, so he took matters into his own hands and hid."

Hyungwon let out a small huff of a laugh. "Hid where?"

"One of the equipment cases," Insu sighed, shaking his head. "He actually got stuck. We couldn't get the locking mechanism undone."

"So he's still in there?" Jungkook asked, whipping around with lifted brows.

"He's still in there," Insu confirmed grimly.

"How are you getting him out?" you squeaked, trying to wrap your head around the situation. Leave it to Hoshi to be so resourceful that it gets him in trouble.

"The camera guy who's responsible for the case is on the way with the keys," Insu explained. "He normally doesn't keep them with him because he rarely locks it up."

"Will he be okay in there until then?" you whispered, suddenly very worried about the amount of oxygen one of those things allowed to filter through.

"He'll be okay," Insu confirmed with a reassuring nod. "We have emergency staff on standby if anything goes sideways."

"This is just perfect," the host groaned, stomping into the room. "Kpop civil war erupting on live television. Production cannot be happy with you right now."

Insu hardened his jaw and narrowed his eyes at the host. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"How?" she gasped, flapping her hands in the air. "I saw it with my own eyes! Security let those people get through and that's your specialty."

This incited an eyeroll from Insu, which was shocking, considering he was usually so professional. You tried to swallow down the new worry of Insu losing his job on top of everything else. If you sat back and counted all of the things you had to be concerned with, your brain would explode.

"What's the plan?" San asked, looking hopefully toward the host. "Are they clearing the studio? What happens next?"

"They're escorting out the final audience members now," she sighed, pinching her nose between her fingers. "We'll do the rest of the show without them."

"We're going back out there?" Jackson gasped, now spinning away from the monitor he had been focused on. "Are you crazy?"

"I'm not, but production is," she muttered. "They aren't going to just cancel the show because of one little fan uprising."

"How do you expect us to go back out there?" Hyungwon chuckled bitterly. "Who says something else won't happen?"

"I think that's up to this guy," the host mocked, patting Insu heavily on the shoulder. "I'm sure we're all in very capable hands."

Turning on her heel, she vanished from the room again, leaving you all to stare blankly at the security guard.

Shaking his head, he followed after her, a light curse dropping from his lips.

.

"Are you sure you're alright?" you groaned, leaning your head against the box.

"I'm great," Hoshi's muffled voice came through the other side. "Just let me know if I made it to the second round."

"I think you have bigger things to worry about right now," you chuckled.

"I'm stuck in a box, Y/N," you could hear him giggle. "I don't have much else to think about."

"What even happened?" the question had been bothering you since you first heard of his circumstances.

"There were several, very enthusiastic fans grabbing my clothing," he explained. "None of the security guards were coming for me, so I had to get away or I would be half naked on public television."

"And to protect your virtue, you locked yourself in a camera tote?"

"Something like that," he laughed. You were glad that he could take this all in stride. "Don't you worry about me though! I'll be out of here and sweeping you off your feet in no time."

"Y/N," a PD interrupted. He tapped on his watch before motioning to the stage.

"I have to go now," you sighed, placing your hand lightly on the case that separated the two of you. "I'll be here whenever you get out, okay?"

"Sounds good!" he chimed. "Can you make sure someone has water on hand? I'm parched."

Shaking your head as you laughed, you pulled yourself to your feet. You felt like you were living in a poorly scripted sitcom. How could you even be upset when they were so bizarre?

Climbing the steps onto the stage, you settled back into your chair. You could admit you were a little shaken, but ready to try again. At this point, you had something to prove. What was essentially an angry mob came after you and a group of people you cared about. You weren't going to let them see that their bad behavior got them what they wanted.

"And you're comfortable with this?" Insu appeared, draping a blanket across your legs.

Giving a short nod, you glanced up to his face, searching his pinched expression. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine."

"But she said-"

"She didn't know what she was talking about," he said quickly, glancing over his shoulder to the host who was now fiddling with her dress. "I'll explain everything later."

Having to trust him on that, you offered a sad smile. "Later then."

As Insu disappeared from the stage, you watched as all of the contestants came out again and took their seats. Hoshi, of course, was still missing.

"Nothing like a little on-air disaster to really make you feel alive, huh kid?" the host grinned, straightening her posture. Not even sure what to respond with, you remained silent as the camera crew began counting her down.

"And we're back!" she gasped, perkiness written across her mannerisms. "You just can't keep My Idol down!"

Awkward chuckles echoed across the group of men, unsure of what to do with themselves now that things had gone so terribly awry.

"Now, to fill those fans in watching from home," the host continued. "Before we had to pause our programming, there was a bit of a disturbance in the studio. No matter, we've got everything sorted out and we're back to let you all know who will continue on in hopes of being Y/N's idol!"

You were starting to feel like the grin on your face had slipped into something more similar to a cringe. The trauma-ception happening in this moment made your skin crawl.

"As a note, due to our earlier interruption, Hoshi was not able to join us for the rest of the show this evening. This does not disqualify him from advancing though."

Exhaling a breath you had been holding, you nodded. Hoshi's smiling face was an obvious gap in the group of men before you. You hated having to continue on without him but realized that there was only so much time slotted to record the show.

"Y/N," the host cooed, turning to you. "How do you feel now that Jungkook has made it into the second round?"

"I'm happy of course," you smiled, trying to keep things as normal as possible. "I think I would be happy if any of these guys had gotten through, but I really look forward to getting to know Jungkook better."

"You can tell us, Y/N," the host said slyly. "Are you sure he wasn't one of your favorites to make it through?"

"Why do you keep trying to pin us up against each other?" Jackson burst, truth behind his laugh. "We still don't want to know!"

"Alright, alright," the host laughed as well. "We'll keep the playing field even. Why don't we announce another contestant then?"

If the live audience were here, you would've expected to hear clapping (or possibly booing). You were hoping they had some sort of reaction track playing to cover up for the uncomfortable silence flooding the stage.

"The next idol to advance to the second round of dates...is..."she trailed, making the tension even worse.

"Choi San!"

"Me?" San all but shouted as he sprung from his chair. His smile was contagious as he began to approach you, arms open to pull you into his torso. "Like me, Choi San? Or someone else, Choi San?"

"You!" you giggled, allowing your chest to fill with happiness for a brief moment. It was difficult to chase away the guilt that came with another date making it through. While you were happy that you would see San again, it did mean you wouldn't see one of the other guys.

"My dubu," San cooed, rocking you from side to side once you were in his arms. "We did it!"

"You did it!" you gasped, leaning away from him to catch another glimpse of his over-the-moon expression. It was difficult to be upset when you had caught a ray of sunshine in your hands.

"I told you it was a great date," he giggled, finally letting you go. "Maybe you'll believe me next time!"

"It was a great date," you agreed. "But only because of you."

"Pfft," he huffed, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

"San, how are we feeling?" the host asked.

"Like I'm in a dream," he smiled. "I'm a pretty confident guy, but I never expect to just win things. This may be one of the best things I've ever won."

"And just think, there's still more to win!" the host chimed, swinging her chair back around to the remaining men. "There are two rounds left after this one, the second round, followed by the weekend dates. Is there anyone in particular that you all think can win this whole thing?"

The men looked thoughtfully amongst each other. "Maybe Hyungwon?" Hongseok offered.

"Me?" Hyungwon scoffed. "Why me?"

"You own a mirror," Hongseok countered, a sly smile on his face.

"Just because he's good looking, doesn't mean the chemistry is there," Jackson blurted out. Turning toward Hyungwon, he put his hands in the air between them. "Not talking about you personally, but that goes for any of us. I think we're all pretty attractive."

"Any of us could have a chance at winning," Jungkook nodded, chewing on his lip ring. "It's really intimidating."

"All of you think so warmly of each other this season," the host said, furrowing her brow. "What's caused the comradery?"

"Eating dinner almost every night together," San grinned as he once again found his place amongst his competitors.

"A lot of us knew each other before," Chan offered. "But living in the same building and using the same common areas led us to become more familiar with each other."

"Now that's a point we haven't touched on," the host picked up. "How did it feel to be sequestered in a hotel room while you waited for the rest of the dates to play out?"

"Luckily for me, my date was a little late in the first round," Chan chuckled. "But it's given me time to really buckle down and work on music, so I don't mind."

"I've slept so much," Jungkook laughed. "It's almost like a vacation."

"I did some choreography for TikTok," San nodded. "I kind of have built in collab partners. Hoshi was always willing to dance with me."

Nodding sagely, you attempted to look toward the area off stage you knew held Hoshi's predicament. He hadn't appeared again, so you assumed they were still working on getting him out.

"How does the thought of possibly being held in the hotel for a few more weeks sound?" the host smiled.

"I'm sure it won't always be fun," Hongseok nodded. "But I'm willing to make it work."

"Why don't we find out if you'll have to make it work then, Hongseok?" the host hummed. "Let's take a dive into the opposite end of the poll and reveal two of the idols who didn't make it."

"What?" you muttered, moving quickly to face her. "That's brutal."

"Reality television often is," she sighed, shaking her head. "Jungkook or San, do you have any words of wisdom for those who will not be able to continue forward?"

Still reeling from this unexpected change, both men looked up in a panic. Glancing toward each other, they looked as if they had swallowed something they shouldn't have.

"There's plenty of fish in the sea?" Jungkook attempted with a nervous laugh.

"Better - better luck next time?" San chimed in with a wince.

"Better luck next time indeed," the host chuckled before flipping to a new cue card. "Unfortunately for three of you, your journey stops here. The first two men who will be eliminated are...

Kwon Hoshi..."

You let out a hiss of air. He wasn't even here to react. You looked down to your shoes, trying not to be bitter. Hoshi had been your last date, but it was worth the wait. You had never met someone who could make you laugh so easily or help you feel so unburdened. Now you couldn't even look him in the eyes as the news was announced.

"And Yang Hongseok."

Your heart fell to your toes. While you didn't want to pick favorites, you felt a bit shattered at the thought of Hongseok not moving forward. Zeroing in on his face, you almost began crying by how crestfallen he looked. He had been one of your fiercest protectors and carried you through what was one of the worst moments of your life.

"It's okay," he said quietly before struggling to his feet. Walking toward you in a bit of a daze, he took your hands in his. Pulling you toward him, he repeated the words, more to himself than you. "It's okay."

"It's not," you whispered, burying your face in his neck.

"We'll be friends," he assured you, running his fingertips down your back again and again. "What we went through together...that can't be taken away."

You began to sniff as you leaned away from him. "Promise?"

"Pinky promise," he smiled, reaching up to dab at your tears with the edge of his sweater sleeve. "Now don't mess up your makeup over me."

"You're worth messing up my makeup over," you pouted.

"You'll be happy with any of these guys," Hongseok nodded, motioning to the men who were still seated. "Take care of my Y/N, okay?"

All of the contestants agreed in their own ways, varying from nods to shouts of "Of course."

Giving you one last sad smile, he reached down to squeeze your hand. "Don't miss me too much, okay?"

You shook your head before plopping back down in your seat. Letting him simply walk away made your chest ache, but you knew it was a necessary evil. You signed up for this.

"Chan, Jackson, Hyungwon," the host sighed. "How are we feeling?"

"Nervous," Chan groaned. "So nervous."

" This is cruel and unusual punishment," Jackson chirped.

"I'll move this along then," the host smiled. You knew she was enjoying every minute of what was happening. "The third idol to move on to the second dates..."

"Wait, wait," Jackson gasped. "You're not just telling us who the third eliminated person is?"

"Now where's the fun in that?" the host chuckled, causing Jackson to begin chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked less than amused.

"So this is it?" Chan gulped. "We're just getting right down to it?"

Ignoring the men's complaints, the host continued. "The third idol to move on to the second dates...is...

Jackson Wang."

"Well, shit," Jackson giggled. Striding toward you, he paused in front of where you were sitting and began to hop up and down. "Saved the best for last, ay?"

You let out a huff of a laugh that was both self-pitying and happy. The moment was sweet, but so heavily tinged with sadness. In true My Idol fashion, only three men got to continue forward to the next round. You would have to leave Hyungwon and Chan behind.

While Jackson was obviously excited to be moving on, he instantly picked up on your stress. "Hey."

Glancing up at him through your lashes, you allowed him to pull you to your feet. "You're allowed to be sad," he said, his tone huskier than it had been only a few seconds ago.

"But I'm happy," you hiccupped, unsure if that was true. "You made it through."

"You can be happy on our next date," he nodded, offering a small smile. "But right now, you can be upset or angry. You can feel whatever you need to."

You were so grateful to have such an understanding person on your side. Nodding, you stuck out your bottom lip.

"Hyungwon, tell me how you're feeling?" the host asked, interrupting the tender moment between you and Jackson.

"Disappointed," he mumbled, shaking his head. "I knew there was a chance I wouldn't get through, but it stings."

"A chance you wouldn't get through?" the host said, fake confusion now painting her features. "But you still have a chance."

"I-" Hyungwon said, startled. "I what?"

"While My Idol usually allows votes for three idols to move forward to the round of second dates," she smiled. "This season, we've graciously allowed four."

"Christ," Chan hissed, his face dropping into his hands. "Would've been nice to know before I almost started to tear up."

You lifted your brows as you looked from Jackson to the host, and back to Jackson again.

"Cheer up, buttercup," he grinned, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. "You can be happy for me after all."

Letting out a surprised giggle, you engulfed him in a hug. "We're going to have so much fun."

"Damn right we are!" he cheered before letting you go and taking his seat again.

"Why wait any longer?" the host oozed. "Let's move on.

"The final idol...to advance forward...is...

...

..."

You closed your eyes, silently praying to any god who would listen. You weren't sure if you were asking for strength, understanding, or just the ability to get through this without passing out.

"Bang Chan."

Snapping your head up, you weren't sure if you were going to laugh or cry.

It was all over.

One boy to comfort and one boy to congratulate.

All that was left was to figure out how to push forward.

#bts #got7 #monsta x #seventeen #my idol #my idol 3 #stray kids #ateez #pentagon #svt #skz #ptg #jungkook #san #hongseok #jackson #hyungwon #bang chan #hoshi

[piraytoro]

Where was your outrage when Sam had his righteous anger stolen from him, over and over, and every time this was framed as a good thing? The black man cannot be angry the way Roy and Jamie and even Ted can be. His righteous anger would not be seen as righteous, and so it must be handled by others, he must be talked or maneuvered out of it. He would not be having a perfectly natural and reasonable human reaction; he would be seen as violent, uncivilized, uppity. This would not be an issue if this was framed by the show as a problem. If the show allowed his father to admit that his anger, while justified, is directly compromising his safety. That it’s not about him and it never was; it is and always has been about the systems of oppression and racist hatred both baked into the system and being actively perpetrated by those in power. But no: he should forgive people for things they haven’t even tried to stop doing. You know, for himself. The system must be opposed only using the tools of the system itself.

Where was your outrage when Edwin Akufo and Shandy were reduced to racist caricatures, leaving in fits of rage and losing their composure entirely—their true, savage natures coming out to belie their attempts at the trappings of civilization. They don’t know how to compromise, they don’t know how to accept the decisions of others with grace, they refuse to change their behavior and only think about what they want. They’re power-hungry, but don’t know how to wield that power responsibly or justly. Both of their endings involve literally shit, a defiling of these majority-white spaces, whether pantomimed or actually physically present, while their white foils in Keeley and Rebecca are allowed to conduct themselves with grace and poise, as presented in direct contrast to them. Where was your outrage when Akufo was brought back only to be denied the very same chance to redeem himself that this show so loves to give its white characters? In the end, even fucking RUPERT is unwilling to stoop so low as he.

Where was your outrage when Dani Rojas was reduced to a caricature of machismo as soon as he was removed from a majority-white space and reunited with other Mexican players? Where was it when we had to wait the better part of two episodes before being reassured that Isaac wasn’t a fucking homophobe? Speaking of, where was it when the show completely failed to address the racist fan hate that players in this sport just like Isaac struggle with every time their team is doing poorly (and often when they’re not!) during its emotional reckoning with an equally ubiquitous homophobic slur? Where was your outrage when a giant chunk of the fandom on this very website was spewing the most reprehensible shit at Nate for doing the exact same things that at least three white men had already been forgiven for within the first few episodes of the damn show?

In fact, where is your outrage about Nate presumably STILL being the ASSISTANT KIT MAN while Roy gets promoted to head coach despite having admitted that Nate is good at all the things he struggles with. “Nate has to work his way up” why? Jamie didn’t get punished for his years of tormenting Nate. He never even apologized, he became a better person and all of a sudden people started pretending none of that ever happened. But Nate, he has to apologize individually to everyone he hurt and then he still has to “earn his spot back,” and yet no one seems to see a problem with this.

And these are just the most egregious examples. But yeah, the worst thing this show ever did was fail to unite your two or three white faves.

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #fandom racism #racism in fandom #so now that your feel-good comfort show has been ruined for you without our help are you guys finally willing to acknowledge what #fans of color have been trying to tell you for years? #yeah the final episode was mid whatever there are bigger fucking problems #do NOT hit me with ‘akufo’s actor was adlibbing a lot of that’ do i look like i care he wasn’t in charge of the story beats

[beantothemax]

AZAMA FIC

His beloved had left him. Mitama was still only some months old, but that poor excuse of a person had ran away one night to be with someone else and left Azama alone with their child. Countless days had he spent lost and confused. He didn't understand why she left and he didn't know how to care for such a young child alone.

Worst of all, he was still Hinoka's retainer. Whenever he left for work, he feared that the kindergarten wasn't any good and that Mitama would get hurt. He feared he might leave to the battlefield and never return, leaving his baby without anyone to care for her.

"You should just put her in the deeprealms," Hinoka suggested.

"I don't want that, I want to see her grow up," Azama sighed, "She'll hate me if she spends her entire childhood thinking I abandoned her."

"But you wouldn't have to worry about her and besides, kids are a lot of work!" Hinoka said, "All that cleaning up after them because they can't do it themselves and you have to teach them to speak."

Azama felt a certain anger bubbling in him, a frustration that she couldn't understand just how much Mitama meant to him, but he tried to remain civil, "The answer is no."

Hinoka let it rest, but it was clear she still thought of it. Azama wondered how she could be so heartless. Of course children needed their parents, someone had to teach and care for them. A caretaker such as those of the deeprealm had a dozen children to care for, Mitama might be neglected or abused and he would have no way of knowing.

In his worry for his daughter, he didn't notice he had fallen behind by several paces until Setsuna called his name.

"I'll help take care of her when I have time," she said.

"Thanks," was all Azama could muster in the midst of his anxious daze.

Some days and a battle later, they returned home. Mitama had been staying with Mozu's family. She had to stay home for some weeks after breaking her leg and she was more than happy to care for Mitama during that time. Her father loved the girl as well and had endlessly reassured Azama he would make sure she was perfectly safe, happy and healthy.

Though he was exhausted, Azama wore a bright smile when he knocked on the front door. Some moments passed before Mozu answered. At the sight of her friend, she retreated back into the house before he could see how she had burst into tears.

"Mozu? What's the matter?" he asked as he stepped over the threshold.

Her father held his head in his hands and looked just as, if not more, devastated than Mozu.

"What's wrong?" Azama asked once more.

"They took Mitama," Mozu muttered.

A hopelessness he hadn't felt in years bubbled up in Azama's chest. It was odd, cold and heavy. In that moment, he wanted everything to stop and to scream at them both for allowing anything to happen to the one that mattered most to him...

They weren't at fault though, he knew that much. They both loved Mitama as though she were part of the family, they would sacrifice life and limb to protect her.

With nothing else he could do, Azama wept. His sobs filled the house and just the sound made the residents' hearts ache. They hugged him tight and cried with him, for he and Mitama were family in every way but blood.

That evening after endless tears had been shed and they had spoken, Azama returned home with useful information. Those that had taken Mitama were soldiers. Hoshidan soldiers. Apparently, a higher up had commanded them to take Mitama after determining the thought of her distracted Azama while he worked.

The second piece of information he gleaned was her location: the deeprealms.

It wasn't something he thought of then, but on the walk home, it was crystal clear to hi. that Hinoka had given the order. She always complained whenever he had a problem related to Mitama and said he should send her away.

His grip on his staff tightened as he thought of this. He wanted to kill her slowly and watch her bleed, he wanted her to beg for a second chance and to feel nothing but pain and regret as she bled out when he refused to forgive her.

But Mitama was more important. He would find her and then decide what to do with Hinoka.

First, he had to get to the deeprealms. Despite the amount of times the option had been recommended to him, he didn't actually know how to get there. It was a secret that few outside the royal family knew.

That information was surprisingly easy to learn though as Ryoma had offered it voluntarily when asked. He knew not of Hinoka's issues with Azama.

"East of the butterfly village. There's a path to follow, the locals would gladly show it to you!" he had said.

As expected, a local had happily shown Azama to the correct path. They had left after he reached the gate. He dropped his polite smile and entered, only concerned with if he could find his dear little Mitama.

The world was different from how he pictured. Everyone always said farmlands, but he didn't think there would really be as much farmlands as there truly were. He waded though golden wheat to a distant manor.

From afar, he could already hear the sounds of children laughing as they played. They sounded happy. He wondered if Mitama was amongst those kids, or if she was still a baby. He didn't know what the difference in time was between his world and this.

A man watched the children as they played. He wore a uniform not unlike a Hoshidan steward, and so Azama assumed he was their caretaker.

"Sir! I'm searching for my daughter," Azama said.

"Hmm? No one was scheduled to visit today," the man answered.

"I don't care, I need to see her. Her name is Mitama."

"Mitama?" the man thought.

His face contorted into something Azama couldn't quite make out. Confusion? Fear? Dread? Horror? Surprise?

"Mitama... Takagi?" he hesitantly said.

"Yes, is she here?" Azama said as composed as he could.

"I've received orders that she isn't to have any visitors."

That hopelessness that had latched onto his heart like a tumor seemed to grow by the second. All that stopped him from falling to his knees in a sea of tears was the staff he leaned on.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and forced a smile.

"You're a reasonable man, no?" he asked.

"I'd like to think I am," the caretaker confusedly answered.

"Then you must understand my situation. My wife left me and I don't speak with my family, Mitama is all I have left," he pleaded.

The caretaker thought of it. His face was still as he did, completely and frustratingly unreadable.

"I suppose you can see her," he said.

Azama wanted to cry while he followed the caretaker into the manor. He paced back and forth while the caretaker left to retrieve the girl.

It felt like he waited for an eternity. Or maybe just some seconds. As soon as he saw little Mitama's face, he forgot everything about how long he had waited.

She hid behind the caretaker with a frown. Her hair was the same pink as her mother's and she had adorable round cheeks, but she must have been about three of four for she was quite a bit taller than when he last held her four days prior.

"Go on Mitama, he's just your dad," he said.

"He's mean," she complained.

"Please, just say hi to him."

Hesitantly, she stepped out from her hiding place.

"Hello Mitama," Azama smiled.

She stared up at him with empty eyes before retreating behind the caretaker once more. She didn't like Azama, not when she had never met him before and only knew him as her dad who abandoned her because she was a burden.

"Can I leave now?" she asked.

The caretaker looked to Azama and reluctantly, he nodded. Mitama ran off, likely to play or whatever else she liked doing. He didn't know his own daughter. He didn't know if she was rowdy or quiet or artistic or sporty or snooty or friendly or anything about her at all.

A silence stayed in that room for another stretch of time that felt like it could both be a million years and a millisecond.

"She doesn't seem to like you," the caretaker said plainly.

Azama held it in no longer and fell to the floor and sobbed. The caretaker put a careful hand on his shoulder, saying little while this stranger seemed to feel the worst pain of his life. There wasn't much to say to anyway, it was clear what had happened.

"Can I stay here? I-I'll help care for all the children, I just want to see my daughter," Azama wept.

It was all he could think of in the moment, but truly, it wasn't a half bad idea. He thought children were fascinating and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself if he saw Hinoka again.

Being a caretaker to two dozen children with a slight chance of fixing his relationship with his daughter was better than being executed for killing a princess.

The caretaker agreed, and so began a strange new chapter in Azama's life.

The ending is less miserable than the one I had initially thought of

I NEED TO BITE A HOLE IN MY WALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BWUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PIE THIS LINE MADE ME FERAL. WHY DO YOU INFLICT THE SILLIEST GUYS WITH THE GREATEST HORRORS. MY SPECIAL LITTLE GUY, NO LESS. A CRUEL AND UNFAIR WORLD WE LIVE IN

#asks #pie-knight #inbox fic #ocean’s grey rat

[crabknee]

His beloved had left him. Mitama was still only some months old, but that poor excuse of a person had ran away one night to be with someone else and left Azama alone with their child. Countless days had he spent lost and confused. He didn't understand why she left and he didn't know how to care for such a young child alone.

Worst of all, he was still Hinoka's retainer. Whenever he left for work, he feared that the kindergarten wasn't any good and that Mitama would get hurt. He feared he might leave to the battlefield and never return, leaving his baby without anyone to care for her.

"You should just put her in the deeprealms," Hinoka suggested.

"I don't want that, I want to see her grow up," Azama sighed, "She'll hate me if she spends her entire childhood thinking I abandoned her."

"But you wouldn't have to worry about her and besides, kids are a lot of work!" Hinoka said, "All that cleaning up after them because they can't do it themselves and you have to teach them to speak."

Azama felt a certain anger bubbling in him, a frustration that she couldn't understand just how much Mitama meant to him, but he tried to remain civil, "The answer is no."

Hinoka let it rest, but it was clear she still thought of it. Azama wondered how she could be so heartless. Of course children needed their parents, someone had to teach and care for them. A caretaker such as those of the deeprealm had a dozen children to care for, Mitama might be neglected or abused and he would have no way of knowing.

In his worry for his daughter, he didn't notice he had fallen behind by several paces until Setsuna called his name.

"I'll help take care of her when I have time," she said.

"Thanks," was all Azama could muster in the midst of his anxious daze.

Some days and a battle later, they returned home. Mitama had been staying with Mozu's family. She had to stay home for some weeks after breaking her leg and she was more than happy to care for Mitama during that time. Her father loved the girl as well and had endlessly reassured Azama he would make sure she was perfectly safe, happy and healthy.

Though he was exhausted, Azama wore a bright smile when he knocked on the front door. Some moments passed before Mozu answered. At the sight of her friend, she retreated back into the house before he could see how she had burst into tears.

"Mozu? What's the matter?" he asked as he stepped over the threshold.

Her father held his head in his hands and looked just as, if not more, devastated than Mozu.

"What's wrong?" Azama asked once more.

"They took Mitama," Mozu muttered.

A hopelessness he hadn't felt in years bubbled up in Azama's chest. It was odd, cold and heavy. In that moment, he wanted everything to stop and to scream at them both for allowing anything to happen to the one that mattered most to him...

They weren't at fault though, he knew that much. They both loved Mitama as though she were part of the family, they would sacrifice life and limb to protect her.

With nothing else he could do, Azama wept. His sobs filled the house and just the sound made the residents' hearts ache. They hugged him tight and cried with him, for he and Mitama were family in every way but blood.

That evening after endless tears had been shed and they had spoken, Azama returned home with useful information. Those that had taken Mitama were soldiers. Hoshidan soldiers. Apparently, a higher up had commanded them to take Mitama after determining the thought of her distracted Azama while he worked.

The second piece of information he gleaned was her location: the deeprealms.

It wasn't something he thought of then, but on the walk home, it was crystal clear to hi. that Hinoka had given the order. She always complained whenever he had a problem related to Mitama and said he should send her away.

His grip on his staff tightened as he thought of this. He wanted to kill her slowly and watch her bleed, he wanted her to beg for a second chance and to feel nothing but pain and regret as she bled out when he refused to forgive her.

But Mitama was more important. He would find her and then decide what to do with Hinoka.

First, he had to get to the deeprealms. Despite the amount of times the option had been recommended to him, he didn't actually know how to get there. It was a secret that few outside the royal family knew.

That information was surprisingly easy to learn though as Ryoma had offered it voluntarily when asked. He knew not of Hinoka's issues with Azama.

"East of the butterfly village. There's a path to follow, the locals would gladly show it to you!" he had said.

As expected, a local had happily shown Azama to the correct path. They had left after he reached the gate. He dropped his polite smile and entered, only concerned with if he could find his dear little Mitama.

The world was different from how he pictured. Everyone always said farmlands, but he didn't think there would really be as much farmlands as there truly were. He waded though golden wheat to a distant manor.

From afar, he could already hear the sounds of children laughing as they played. They sounded happy. He wondered if Mitama was amongst those kids, or if she was still a baby. He didn't know what the difference in time was between his world and this.

A man watched the children as they played. He wore a uniform not unlike a Hoshidan steward, and so Azama assumed he was their caretaker.

"Sir! I'm searching for my daughter," Azama said.

"Hmm? No one was scheduled to visit today," the man answered.

"I don't care, I need to see her. Her name is Mitama."

"Mitama?" the man thought.

His face contorted into something Azama couldn't quite make out. Confusion? Fear? Dread? Horror? Surprise?

"Mitama... Takagi?" he hesitantly said.

"Yes, is she here?" Azama said as composed as he could.

"I've received orders that she isn't to have any visitors."

That hopelessness that had latched onto his heart like a tumor seemed to grow by the second. All that stopped him from falling to his knees in a sea of tears was the staff he leaned on.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and forced a smile.

"You're a reasonable man, no?" he asked.

"I'd like to think I am," the caretaker confusedly answered.

"Then you must understand my situation. My wife left me and I don't speak with my family, Mitama is all I have left," he pleaded.

The caretaker thought of it. His face was still as he did, completely and frustratingly unreadable.

"I suppose you can see her," he said.

Azama wanted to cry while he followed the caretaker into the manor. He paced back and forth while the caretaker left to retrieve the girl.

It felt like he waited for an eternity. Or maybe just some seconds. As soon as he saw little Mitama's face, he forgot everything about how long he had waited.

She hid behind the caretaker with a frown. Her hair was the same pink as her mother's and she had adorable round cheeks, but she must have been about three of four for she was quite a bit taller than when he last held her four days prior.

"Go on Mitama, he's just your dad," he said.

"He's mean," she complained.

"Please, just say hi to him."

Hesitantly, she stepped out from her hiding place.

"Hello Mitama," Azama smiled.

She stared up at him with empty eyes before retreating behind the caretaker once more. She didn't like Azama, not when she had never met him before and only knew him as her dad who abandoned her because she was a burden.

"Can I leave now?" she asked.

The caretaker looked to Azama and reluctantly, he nodded. Mitama ran off, likely to play or whatever else she liked doing. He didn't know his own daughter. He didn't know if she was rowdy or quiet or artistic or sporty or snooty or friendly or anything about her at all.

A silence stayed in that room for another stretch of time that felt like it could both be a million years and a millisecond.

"She doesn't seem to like you," the caretaker said plainly.

Azama held it in no longer and fell to the floor and sobbed. The caretaker put a careful hand on his shoulder, saying little while this stranger seemed to feel the worst pain of his life. There wasn't much to say to anyway, it was clear what had happened.

"Can I stay here? I-I'll help care for all the children, I just want to see my daughter," Azama wept.

It was all he could think of in the moment, but truly, it wasn't a half bad idea. He thought children were fascinating and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself if he saw Hinoka again.

Being a caretaker to two dozen children with a slight chance of fixing his relationship with his daughter was better than being executed for killing a princess.

The caretaker agreed, and so began a strange new chapter in Azama's life.

how could you

how DARE you

you can't just do this to me

can't believe this

#-1000 points for gross mischaracterisation of hinoka #she would nok fucking do anything like that #/lh #asks #pie #inbox fic

[blonde-and-cat-suc]

28. three's a crowd

rating: g 

wc: 1.5k 

cw/tw: domestic violence isolation tactics (implied), past physical abuse (implied) 

desc: Glimmer, Bow, and Adora arrive in Bright Moon on a high note, excited to have She-Ra joining the Rebellion. Adora is skeptical of their welcoming attitude. Three friends is one too many to be true... 

(Canon Compliant) 

///

"Adora! Show me how you threw that punch again!"

"Well, alright", Adora agreed easily, a golden dapple of sunlight coming through the trees giving away the pinkish-red of her cheeks. She was clearly the type that liked to show off—Glimmer had been privy from the beginning. The freshly new rebel had proven herself to be an ally to them with a sort of flashy, grandiose act of solidarity...

She-Ra.

Glimmer couldn't help her giddiness.

Yes, She-Ra's defense of Thaymor was awesome—yes, Glimmer loved every second of it. Beneath her initial disbeliefs, Glimmer was beginning to understand that it didn't matter where Adora had come from. Only where she was going.

Presently, Adora was set to go to Bright Moon, sitting on top of the wayward horse they had fled Thaymor with. Adora couldn't have been much younger than Glimmer or Bow, but she had not been out much. Everything amazed Adora in one way or another.

I had no idea that we had this many moons in the sky! Adora exclaimed yesterday, staring into the violet-blue deepness enfolding various moonlight hues. And then, hours later, when the daylight moons had rotated to their positions: Where'd they all go? Why did they leave...? Adora was genuinely regretful. So certain that the moons themselves had moved on from her, specifically, and would not return intentionally, somehow. Bow had to reassure her that the moons would return, (and sometimes they wouldn't, when they got into a New Moon phase). She'd perked up instantly, relieved.

Their first few hours of retreating Thaymor had been spent explaining basic information to Adora that she may not have already known. What Bright Moon was like, the Rebellion, Queen Angella's pitiful alliances across civil Etheria... Adora had no trouble accepting these truths with only the occasional inkling of doubt.

It should have been more obvious before, but Glimmer had only caught on to Adora's true merit when she'd talk back to them with her own insights, pressing them for more information, more analogies, more new philosophies and ideas and morals... and then, more.

Adora was a truthful hero who was also eager to learn and explore the world around her. Glimmer couldn't have asked for a better gift to the Rebellion. She-Ra was going to give the Rebellion the advantage that they had needed all of those years ago when her father...

When the Horde had made their worse offense on Bright Moon to date.

It was all Glimmer could think of when she looked at Adora. Even when they had become comfortable in each other's presence, even when Adora was guiding Glimmer's hands to throw a punch that those calloused, cruel Horde soldiers used—Glimmer knew that Adora herself was ultimately the upper hand the Rebellion needed. With each other's full cooperation, they could protect Etheria from the evil that had grown in its darkest corner. They would burn the Horde back into the ground. Once and for all.

...But for now, the three of them were only lucked-out travelers escaping the Horde's latest brutality. They were all exhausted and each of them had admitted to the group that they were still sore from the day before. Regardless, they kept steady pace, and soon, Glimmer recognized the thinly trekked dirt roads cutting through the trees... They were close to the outskirts of Bright Moon's city. Bow had realized too, flashing a huge smile, "I can't wait to shower and eat and sleep!"

Adora instantly made a skeptical sort of expression. "All at once?"

"Huh? No! But, well... I could definitely try."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

"Probably not", he laughed. "How does anyone shower and eat and sleep? I understand showering and eating—and sleeping and eating. But all three? No, I'm not sure. Sorry, Adora!"

Then, she'd only frowned at him. "You're...joking?"

"Only a little bit", Bow laughed again. "I'm sorry. Really. This is the kind of joke that my dads would tell. It's funny. I haven't been home in a while..."

"Dads", Adora tested the word on her mouth. "Daaaaahds. What is a 'Dads'?"

Wide-eyed and open-minded, Adora absorbed what Bow had to tell her about his family and all of his brothers. She got around to prying him for information on the word "brothers", eventually.

"Do you have 'brothers'?" Adora looked at Glimmer expectantly.

"No, no. I'm an only child."

"Me too. Well... I assume so. I don't have a 'Dads' either."

"It's just a 'Dad'."

"Yeah, it's not such a big deal not having one." Adora smiled. "I turned out okay, I think."

Glimmer didn't bother correcting her anymore after that. The dryness of her mouth and lips was starting to get to her, now that she knew that Bright Moon was close. All she cared about was drinking water, and doing those other things Bow had listed. And of course, recruiting Adora to their cause. Giving her someplace to sleep. Making sure she knew how to take a bath when they found time for that.

When they'd broken out of the wooded trails, Adora had climbed on top of their horse just to get a better view of the sight—Bright Moon Castle, and the Moonstone, opalescent and shimmering gold hues in the daylight. "Wow", Adora sighed under her breath, fingers clutched in the horse's mane.

Glimmer beamed up at her. "Welcome home!"

"Home." Adora seemed to cringe around this word. She examined Glimmer and Bow, and even the horse beneath her. "You guys are sure that you want me to live here? With you?"

"Where else would you go?" Bow asked with an equal amount of sincerity. "I couldn't bring you home."

"Because of your 'Dads'..." Adora nodded to him in understanding. "Right."

"Well, Bright Moon has space for you", Glimmer promised.

"Um", Adora had only looked between them again, frowning. "Are you sure...?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just... Well. Um. I really do want to be friends with you guys."

"We want to be friends with you, too!" Bow reached up and touched the side of her arm, but withdrew as soon as she stiffened, knuckles white, contrasted in the hazel-brown of the horse mane caught in the pressure. If Adora noticed that she'd frightened the horse, she did nothing but gesture it to keep trotting. Bow muttered a quick apology, and Adora accepted it quietly, but it wasn't enough to get them away from the topic.

Not that Adora seemed to want to stop talking about it. She eventually managed to hold Bow's eyes, shoulders rounded, knees pressing into the horse so that it swung its head back and forced her to relax again. Delicately, Adora petted the horse's neck, voice soft but leveled, "I'm not sure that I could be your friend. I mean. Maybe it's a Horde thing. But... there's already two of you..."

"And three's better", Bow said plainly. "You're not in the Horde anymore, Adora. You can do what you want about that, now."

"Oh...? I mean. I heard that—that those kinds of friendships always end up bad. That's why it's sort of banned in the first place. Not totally banned. Just... You get flack for having too many friends... Is that true for the rest of the world?"

"Not at all. If everyone stays very good friends. And talks to each other a lot. The more, the merrier!"

"What does the Horde know about friendships, anyway?" Glimmer shook her head, ready to go into grave detail on why Adora should probably disregard whatever it was that she knew about friendship—and to prepare herself to learn some new things about it—but Glimmer stopped herself. Adora suddenly had a startlingly distant look in her eyes.

"I've only ever had one real friend", Adora told them. "And—I wasn't allowed to have other ones. I-I mean, they were friends. But not friends friends. She used to want to have me to herself all the time. It made sense. Our other friends were opposition to me as her friend. And that's no good for friendship. So, I understand if you guys don't want to be my friend and ruin a perfectly good—"

Bow had stopped the horse with an assertiveness that had Glimmer stopping in her tracks, too. He was silent for all but a moment before he went on with the same tone he had used when he was explaining his Dads to Adora. "This isn't the Horde anymore. You can have as many friends as you want now, Adora! Even if it's not with us."

Glimmer nearly butted in because they kind of needed to be friends with Adora if this was going to work between them all. Maybe not best friends but... something close to it. Maybe Adora was thinking the same way because she'd only nodded at Bow, suddenly unwilling to probe him any further than that.

"Adora, um. I'm sorry about your friend", Glimmer added into the silence.

Adora only gave an uncommitted hum, rubbing the side of her cheek as if recoiling from a strike that never hit. But when she moved her palm and the daylight reached her cheekbones, the rigid, perfect cuts were obvious. Three lines, tapered off down to her jaw. They were long scarred over but... still there. Adora didn't seem to notice it when Glimmer's mouth flattened into a neutral grimace, and she shrugged, lifting a brow, "Nothing to be sorry for. It's just... Uhm. What if we start hurting each other because of that?"

"Hurting each other?" Bow blinked. "Over what?"

"Well... Each other...?"

"We're not going to do that", Glimmer said carefully. "That's... That's a little extreme, no?"

Adora paused. "Do you think it's extreme?"

"Yes", Bow and Glimmer blurted almost together.

Another pause. Adora thumbed at her scarred cheekbone, absentmindedly. "Oh." 

#mariposa fics #anti c//a fics #anti c//a #adora having a normal relationship with people? during canon? adora having a normal relationship w ppl? AFTER canon? #I thinketh the fucketh not #i think that for me it's easy to forget that to Adora and Catra's generation of child-soldier Hordies grew up essentially as a cult #and so if Adora doesn't know what the fuck a horse is #she definitely doesn't know about the plentiful moons #and she ABSOLUTELY has no idea that “it's okay to have more than one friend” #and probably a bunch of other things too #whoops! tag rant #cw: mariposa being more vulgar than usual

[lightlycareless]

First, it hurts— Chapter XXI

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: Abuse, forced pregnancies, menstruation, misogyny, a little bit of jujutsu/humankind lore at the beginning lmao, vomit, oof. This chapter is NOT fun—I'm so sorry.

A/N: Heeeyaaa!! I'm back with another chapter!! Thank you for waiting 🥰 I got caught a bit with the other chapter, it turned out to be quite long once more!! But I'm excited to post this and the other one 👀

I also want to take this moment to announce that once the next chapter is posted (Chapter 22 here, and chapter 25 in ao3) I'll be going on a break! I have a very busy season coming up for my business so I want to put all my attention onto it. But worry not, I'll still be active and continue writing if time allows it, I do plan on finishing this story!!! So yeah, that's all ❤

Now, without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 22

Ao3 link.

Since the beginning of time, humanity has always found it necessary to distinguish itself through various factors to survive.

Whether by territory or culture, it didn’t matter how—all they needed to was to find a way to separate themselves from those they deemed inadequate to their requisites, and continue to develop what was considered as society .

As civilization began to grow this newfound system, its members began to realize that in order to function properly, everyone must have a role. 

From the bottom of the pyramid to the top of the food chain—no matter the size, and regardless of if there was some great reward at the end of the day… every single person had to pull their own weight; for their stagnation would only initiate their inevitable collapse.

But who is to set these roles? Who had the capability, the knowledge to decide what was right or wrong for their community? As well as being held responsible if they ever committed a mistake?

Well, that’s an easy answer.

The one in charge for making these decisions would be none other than the person the people elected to represent them; someone strong, intelligent, with their prosperity in mind: a leader .

Many cultures had different ways to represent power, as well as the responsibilities their respective titles would hold. But the purpose was always the same: to lead and to govern.

And this system had proven to be so efficient, that the jujutsu community had decided to adapt it to their lifestyle.

While this community often prided themselves for being unusual —if not better— than normal humankind, they often found themselves taking a few pointers from their fellow relatives upon realizing their methods weren’t as far-fetched, primitive , as they initially suspected.

However, because they were in a different spectrum of reality—for a lack of better words—this often led them to take extreme measures when it was time to make a decision. Simply because they could.

Starting with the affair that often set the wheels of every corruptible human in motion—the search for power.

In this sense, sorcerers were no different from civilians.

They allowed themselves to fall arrogant to the fact that even if cursed energy was something exclusively found amongst those of their blood, not everyone had the reassurance that they would get it, allowing it to become their currency , their tie breaker , when it came to making decisions pertaining to the future.

No family was exempt from this way of thinking, but as years went by, many began to outgrow this stage and place their attention into other matters they now deemed of higher priority, just showing how society's necessities were able to easily change without previous consultation.

But there were still clans that clung to past ideals, and this is where the Zen’in came in.

Out of the 3 famed clans of their society, the Zen’in were regarded as the most… scrupulous when it came to their own comrades. Not that the other two were any better, but at least those born of their blood without cursed energy could still hold a respectable life without many issues.

But the Zen’in were uninterested in adapting to the new times as they went by; continuing to glorify power and ability above all else in an era where rights and justice was heavily promoted. Nothing could make them change their mind about the system that had continuously brought them satisfying results until that point—so, if it worked, why fix it?

Specifically in this situation (if not all), if you did not meet their standards, you were regarded to be as less than human , and thus, discarded.

Every person coming from that household grew to seek power, influence, tossing aside the greater good of the community in favor of securing their position.

Or so… that was the reality for many. 

Many, except Naobito Zen’in, who didn't hold the title of clan leader just yet.

Naobito, agains't general concensus, wasn’t the man you expected him to be in his youth. Now, don’t get me wrong, he was still as frightening and ambitious as he always was, but at that point, his mind didn’t really think about anything else but enjoying the life he had.

Being a man of impressive talent since the moment he was born, Naobito was able to accomplish an incalculable amount of achievements in such a short amount of time that led him to be recognized by the jujutsu community as one of the most promising sorcerer’s of his generation. Something that he highly prided himself with, and deemed sufficient to live on for the rest of his life.

And who could blame him?

He had the favoritism of the elders and the acceptance of the community to begin with. This was more than enough to give him clearance to do whatever he wanted, easily, and without repentance.

Secondly, the difficult tasks, the ones one would consider detrimental to the survival of the extinction of a group, were always handed to the then-leader of the clan, his older brother, Hisaji. 

Sure, he’d step in whenever it was needed from time to time, but Naobito’s survival wasn’t something that would affect the course of action of the Zen’in, considering that if something were to happen to the leader himself, his wife was already pregnant with the child that was supposed to be the next heir, and his younger brother, Ogi, secretly coveted for the position—if it ever came to choose someone else if there was no adequate candidate, Naobito already knew who would fit the role.

Taking this into consideration, he really had nothing to worry about except exorcizing the curses he would find in the missions assigned to him, or indulging in the pleasures of life.

But the peace he held so surely in his hands, was quickly hauled away when one day, Hisaji was marked as critically ill.

Something that would’ve never bothered Naobito, for his relationship with his older brother wasn’t one many would consider ideal , if it wasn’t for the fact that neither of his children were considered adequate to become his successor and the elders had suddenly decided to follow tradition and evaluate each and every possible candidate.

The title of the head of the clan was up for grabs, and Naobito —much to his disdain— alongside Ogi, were immediately put to the test.

The ceremony to choose the next leader considered various parameters (depending on the family) but for the Zen’in, their tradition consisted of 2 main parts; first, the examination of the candidates' own cursed techniques.

To no one’s surprise, the brothers went ahead and marked exceptional grades in all of their observations. 

However, there was still a defining factor that managed to separate the brother’s talent, and that is, the effort they put in adapting to their techniques.

It was clear that with obtaining a technique that has never been seen in the past, there was to be a bigger learning curve to overcome—one that Naobito took with stride when this became his reality. 

He had gone through all means necessary to understand projection sorcery , as he’d named it, as well as providing it with a use adequate for the society he’s part of.

On the other hand, Ogi’s blazing courage was equally outstanding on its own, proving that just because he had to use a weapon to control it, didn’t mean he could slack off. But just as this served to his favor, it was also to his opposition, for the majority of the evaluating elders thought of weapons as nothing more than a cheap trick to gain the upper hand in battle—with one of them even calling Ogi to be more of a swordsman than an actual sorcerer.

However, to give them an equal standing, the elders verdict their results as a tie . And to finally set this once and for all, continued on with the parameter that mattered the most to them.

One that pretended to rate the caliber of their contributions for the future, the conservation of their lineage.

Children .

The second stage began: the search for fertility, and that was to be in the form of a bride.

Naobito, ever the hasty man, never thought it necessary to settle down—at least for the moment.

He knew very well that he couldn’t run from this responsibility forever, not when he’s proven to be so outstanding enough to have his clan anxiously waiting for the moment he would have children of the same talent. But he believed this matter to be tackled at a much later moment.

Besides, if he ever needed someone to warm his bed at night, he could always pick and choose a gullible woman from the extensive variety of options he had from the ranks beneath him—and what was she going to do? Deny him ? Just thinking about it erupts a laugh out of him.

Nonetheless, his indoctrination forbade him from seeing servants as proportionate candidates to become his wife, less to be the mother of his offspring.

He had a specific niche when it came to the woman he desired to be his partner , and luckily for him, his clan knew exactly how to bring them to life.

Just one quick call to the matchmaker, a few strings pulled here and there, and Naobito would find himself flocked with all kinds of proposals—ones that would come from desperate fathers who would see this opportunity as a way to brighten their somber lives by getting their hands on the riches of Zen’in clan for themselves, far from ensuring the wellbeing or future of their daughters. 

After all, women in these levels (if not all) were nothing but trading objects, currency , used and moved around for political and monetary gains. And Naobito took this, alongside his prestige, to his advantage to demand only the best.

The matchmaker presented him with different pictures of women he thought suitable for a man of Naobito’s expectations—meek, invisible, yet attentive. Knowledgeable of what it takes to run a household as famous as the Zen’in’s, but uninterested in matters outside of domesticity. Of perfect health, capable of bearing children, with cursed energy (although if she had or not, didn’t matter) as long as she fit this last criteria, and that was, to be attractive to the eye.

Many candidates had caught his interest, ones that he even considered visiting outside of normal courtship just to see what would happen , but with no intention of going through with an arrangement.

However, it wasn’t until his lustful gaze landed on the picture of a woman that radiated a mysterious yet delicate aura, that he found himself staring longer than just a few seconds; a gesture that the matchmaker thought of as an opening for him to encourage a meeting.

But Naobito didn’t need to be reassured. As the involved man that he was, he already knew that he wouldn’t settle down in just having a picture presented to him to make a decision if anyone had caught his interest. 

Thus, from the moment he felt attracted to the intriguing woman in that Polaroid picture, he arranged the logistics of his meeting.

He traveled to the hometown of this bride just two days after his meeting with the matchmaker: expecting to be disappointed (for it was known that fathers would sometimes send in edited photos, and he already had the assumption that this woman was too good to be true) and in the best case scenario, he would not leave empty handed without having a sample of the goods, tarnishing her for any man that would come after him.

But when he got there, well, it was easy to say that he was shocked.

Because he’d come to realize that no amount of black and white portraits taken from various angles with state of the art cameras, countless descriptions made with the sole purpose of inciting his imagination to recreate the features of this woman as accurately as possible, or even paintings from the most talented artist in the world, could ever do justice to her appearance.

Naobito knew she was attractive, but he never expected it to be true, less at this level of beauty .

From the way her silky long black hair, tied up in a well-kept bun, shone under the sunlight, her smooth porcelain skin that only highlighted how delicate she looked compared to the rough rural exterior of her hometown, likened to a doll, and the spellbinding glimmer of her golden eyes, oh, those eyes . 

The ones that Naobito took no second to compare to a lavish gemstone, the same ones that would shyly dart away from his on the few occasions she dared lift her gaze to observe him, accompanied by the soft blush that would paint on her round cheeks…a sight he thought adorable, corruptible .

Naobito knew he had to have her.

And even though she knew her thoughts held little to no impact in these matters, it was rumored that she wasn’t that opposed to this arrangement either; even daring to sprout rumors of her being charmed by him as well, in the early days of their relationship at least.

Luckily for Naobito, his future father-in-law had no complaints about his decision so there wasn’t any reason to force him into agreeing, if anything, he seemed a bit too elated to get rid of his daughter without much resistance from either parties. 

A reaction that did not awaken any kind concern from Naobito, whose mind was now solely set on getting this done with and getting a taste of his new wife as soon as possible.

With formalities out of the way, he made it possible to skip the courting stage thanks to his standing, and set wedding preparations to begin right away.

He still allowed his newfound bride a few days to accommodate everything she wished to take to his house, as well as giving her the opportunity to give her last farewells to her family (which she was to renounce, as per custom) before having her move permanently to the Zen’in estate.

The wedding occurred just the week after their first meeting, and after the paperwork was signed and recognized by the jujutsu community and the government respectively, a young woman of an innocent, lighthearted nature, but with expectations of a peaceful, romantic life even after getting together with a complete stranger, of the name Tomoko , became known as Naobito’s wife.

But the thrill she had for her new life as wife of a Zen’in man quickly vanished upon setting foot inside her new home—now that her ambitious husband held the promise of fertility, both physically and legally, Naobito wasted to second to reveal his true nature and partake on his duty of begetting a son worthy of his blood—through force, if necessary.

Thus, after 9 seemingly eternal, excruciating and stressful months, the screams of a child were finally heard inside of the many rooms inside the depths of the Zen’in estate on a hot August day.

A healthy boy, with pale skin, black hair and golden eyes, just like his mother, but holder of large amounts of cursed energy, just like his father, was born.

Their first son, who Naobito named in honor of himself.

Naoaki .

Naoaki had come to fill the expectations of the clan’s elders on Naobito, as well as his father’s. Who had become anxious in the last weeks of his wife’s pregnancy, fearing that he had gone through the annoying and obnoxious ordeal of tolerating his hormonal woman only to get a child unworthy of calling his own.

However, there were ways to discover a child's potential way before the normative 4-5 years of age that most children began to show their affinity to cursed energy. And when those results came beneficial to his outlook, he began to prophesy the elder’s reactions.

Just as he desired, the birth of his child arrived to clear the disappointment the sons of Hisaji had unknowingly brought, for the last child his wife had had been produced with less than ideal circumstances, ones that even some began to take as an omen for the abhorrent downfall of their clan.

But now that Naobito had presented a new hope into their lives, those dark thoughts were quickly discarded as they turned their sights to Ogi’s attempt—who had failed to produce a child with his wife, seemingly miscarrying during the early stages of her pregnancy.

He could see it now. There was no way in hell the elders wouldn’t shift their favor over to Naobito and choose him as the next leader of the clan—with moderate effort (or luck, as envious ones would try to debate) he’s proven yet again to have a higher worth and ability compared to his brothers.

He began to get a rush of anticipation as he waited for the official report from the higher ups to come back. 

He knew he had the title in the bag, but he wanted to be sure before he could truly indulge his new status, if Hisaji didn’t die first, of course—but that would only make things easier.

All that he had left to do was wait.

And wait he did.

And waited.

And waited.

But the moment never came. 

He never heard of the elders, nor the decision they must’ve taken by now.

Why?

Because Hisaji was no longer in danger.

Just as if it were a miracle, the leader managed to recover from his sickness in an outstanding manner, and without repercussions. And once officially declared as capable enough to continue his reign by the family doctor, the elders no longer assessed it as necessary to choose his replacement, at least for the near future.

All this happened right under Naobito’s nose, and nobody bothered to inform him.

He felt humiliated, discarded by this change of events, as if he were anyone else and not him! A fact that led him to wonder… 

How did Hisaji get sick in the first place?!

The first moment symptoms of his sickness became apparent was right after breakfast.

He began to feel nauseous, pain on his stomach, as well as the agitated sensation from his heart pounding non-stop against his chest. Hisaji originally believed that he had eaten perhaps a bit too fast, or maybe something that wasn’t of his stomach's personal liking, but after a quick examination made by the cooks of the estate, his assumptions came back negative.

However, the pain didn’t stop after he took stomach medicine and rested for the rest of the day, if anything they got worse .

It didn’t take long before experts were called to profoundly check all of his vital signs—all critical readings, and yet, they still couldn’t put their finger on the cause behind his reaction.

This continued long enough for the elders to consider appointing someone else as his successor, and 9 months later, Naoaki was born.

Fortunately, it wouldn’t take longer before one of his closest allies, a cook, discovered the perpetrator behind his sickness:

A mercenary, acting as an undercover kukuru member.

After being caught and heavily interrogated, it became known that the reason behind Hisaji’s symptoms was none other than poisoning. 

The deed, however, wasn’t made though any kind of poison, no. It was one specifically designed to deal with sorcerers of his skill. 

The poison allegedly used against him was none other than arsenic, the so-called king of poisons. It was a threat on its own if used against any civilians, just the smallest of doses could terminate the life of any unfortunate victim. However, the sender knew very well that Hisaji was no ordinary man when it came to defeat him, thus, resorted to other methods he deemed more effective, and that was, embedding the poison with cursed energy.

Cursed energy inside an incompatible vessel could turn out to be detrimental in the long run if not detected on time, and because the person that hired the mercenary knew a man like Hisaji would eventually grow to be arrogant enough to ignore such details, it became the reason as to why they believed this to be the best way to almost bring him down. 

It wasn’t the first time they had attempted to do something of this size, in fact, the mercenary they hired for this job was the same one they used to attack the Gojo’s, only to find their attempts foiled by a perceptive clan member, forcing them to turn their eyes onto the nearest, biggest target: The Zen’in.

An all too common occurrence for people like Hisaji, who were bound to have countless enemies in his position. 

However, just as he had enemies, he also had close allies. And such was the servant that managed to expose the one behind this atrocious act one day he saw odd behavior from a kukuru member.

The mercenary was quickly forsaken, and that chapter ended with Hisaji’s full recovery.

All conversations regarding the election of the next head of the clan were promptly dismissed by the higher ups, and life seemed to move just like it did before. Everyone was elated that their leader was fine and they would be able to continue enjoying the peaceful era he created.

But not to Naobito, who could not feel the same sense of comfort as others did once it was made public that his brother was fine.

But why?

Surely, he must’ve felt a this revelation as a weight being lifted from his shoulders now that it was declared he was no longer needed—he could easily jump back to his previous lifestyle, it's not like his wife held the power to stop him from visiting other women if he so desired, and the elders never really bothered to check the morality of his actions, as long as he kept away from their goals, he could continue to live in a carefree manner.

His child was a sensitive subject, but he could always relegate him to the maids and the mother.

Right?

And yet, those explanations were nowhere to be found in his psyche.

The answer was simple.

Being completely absorbed by this newfound duty, one that he never batted an eye to before, he began to feel that maybe… he deserved to be the true leader of the Zen’in clan. That this was always his destiny. If that wasn’t the case, then why was everything happening to him so easily? Surely it was the preferred way of fate of putting him back on his track, after a pending most of his years living leisurely, he was expected to grow up eventually …

Right?

But a man of no limits like himself never learned how to deal with a situation like this.

That day, Naobito, a man of great successes, saw himself facing failure for the first time ever, and all he could think of was how much he hated it.

Something inside him changed that day, starting with a feeling.

One that took settlement deep into the very fabric of his very own being, a dark stain of sorts that began to cloud his mind, threatening to cover all rational thinking as he began to dart his surroundings, seemingly looking for the culprit behind his failure, an explanation.

Because even then, Naobito refused to accept this was his own doing, even blinded to the perspective that perhaps no one was really at fault—but radical men like him always dealt with absolutes. It was either everything, or nothing.

This eventually led his eyes to settle on the small baby his wife held so closely against her chest; a sight that would unfortunately take him to elaborate the premise that would forever shape his and his son’s life.

Had the son he sired with his young wife been promising enough to fit the criteria of the elders, he would’ve been chosen as the next leader of the clan—regardless of Hisaji’s recuperation.

With enough talent, his son could’ve overruled tradition, just like he’d done in certain past occasions, and given him the reward he now desperately sought after.

But Naobito failed to recognize that his privileges were ones that the elders were insensible to, and if his actions did not align to their visions, they would be discarded—oblivious to whose sentiments were hurt.

This led him to believe the elders had gone mad, that their age was finally getting to them and began to lose the conviction necessary to handle these matters. Even going as far as calling them foolish once he got to the conclusion that their decision came from the small sliver of hope they held on Hisaji having another child —wife or mistress, he didn’t care— for he was still a strong sorcerer on his own, or so he heard.

“If only my son had been better—!” Naobito resentfully hissed as he walked away from his wife, starting to believe he’d also made a mistake by choosing her .

But he wasn’t one to give up.

Just because Naoaki wasn’t of use at that particular moment, it didn’t mean he couldn’t have a purpose in the future.

At the same time resentment grew for his son, another idea led by his ambition appeared in his mind, two plans coming into fruition:

He’d train Naoaki. Because even if he called him useless once or twice, he could still recognize that his son had talent.  He was already strong; stronger than his cousins and distant relatives—a point in his favor. He’ll continue to train him to the point it was time to reveal if he had a cursed technique, if not… he’ll deal with him accordingly.

And his second plan… was to force his wife to continue having children. That is, until one of them was born stronger than his firstborn.

The landscape began to clear and Naobito’s mood began to lighten—it was set then. The perfect way to mend the mistakes of his son and wife, something he didn’t consider himself responsible to look after, but had to do so anyways.

Regardless of how you saw it, there was no denying that it was a cruel plan. To force his wife to continue having children, even after the strenuous pregnancy that she had, one that led doctors to advise Naobito on delaying having another child, at least for 1 year, and detached from a desire of having a bigger family… 

This was just one of the many ways Tomoko’s husband saw his children: tools, or cattle of sorts.

However, where Naobito lacked, Tomoko and his relatives would step in.

Naoaki found himself loved and cherished the first years of his life, constantly barraged with compliments of his genius and skill; as well as gifts. Whatever his little wandering eyes would look fondly at for longer than 2 seconds, the servants were quick to spoil him rotten— even more so when Naobito began to train him with great success, leading him to believe that whatever he wanted, he would get.

Training with him didn’t pertain to getting him right into the practical/physical sense of jujutsu, for there was obviously no way a child that just began to walk would be able to and replicate so. 

Still, with the comprehension he held for his tender age of 2 years, he was able to adequately understand what his father wanted to teach him—if not more.

And once Naoaki gave indication of being able to handle more elaborate instructions, Naobito raised his demands. Which the child did not seem to care for because it only rewarded him with more attention, starting to rank jujustu as a concept of high value, much to his relatives pleasure.

Nonetheless, it seems that only Tomoko thought that his husband’s instructions were far stricter than any child her son’s age needed. No one seemed to support her either when she first brought up this fact, not even the other women, who simply limited themselves to remind her how grateful she should be for having such a promising child, unlike Junko who could only hope to even have a baby after her miscarriage.

Tomoko discarded their words almost immediately after they graced her ears, deeming them nothing but empty, meaningless messages, for all that she desired was to quit this nonsense, but now heavily pregnant with her second child… she really couldn’t do anything to stop him—nor was it her place as a woman to comment on it.

Instead, she took it as her personal mission to approach this situation differently, and such way was to raise Naoaki as a loving and caring child to his soon-to-be-born brother; she already knew him to be intrigued by her ever-growing stomach, all that she needed to do now was nudge him in the right direction.

“Why do that?” Naoaki asks through broken vocabulary as a response to his mother’s request—in the few moments her son was allowed to rest from Naobito’s arduous training, Tomoko would pull Naoaki to spend his time bonding with her and the baby inside her tummy, an example of such was asking him to place his ear on her stomach.

“Don’t you want to talk to your baby brother?” She responds with a smile, holding back a giggle caused from her son’s adorable quizzical face. 

He first shook his head in denial, for he really didn’t find the idea of pushing his head against her stomach all that entertaining like jujutsu was (or why should he do it), causing Tomoko to frown and pout her lips in feigned disappointment, a gesture that soon had Naoaki retracting his initial response, giving her a pout of his own once he realized he didn’t like the feeling his mother’s rejection got him.

“...yes” he eventually whispers, slowly leaning his head closer to her stomach, but stopping just a few millimeters away—evidently still hesitant on going through with her request.

“It’s fine” She responds, lovingly patting the back of his head as to reassure him “You won’t hurt me”

Naoaki immediately melts against her touch and he finally places his ear against her stomach. He doesn’t really hear anything, which causes him to wonder why his mother ever wanted him to do that, but he’s proven wrong soon after a few seconds, when his brother decides to kick him.

He gasps and jolts away from his mother, which causes her to laugh.

“What that?!” Naoaki cries.

“It’s your baby brother, he’s saying hi”

“No” He shakes his head, an angered now frown evident on his face “He hit mommy”

“He didn’t” Tomoko chuckled as gently pulled Naoaki back to her, leading his small palm back to her stomach, causing him to cringe and attempt to pull away. “He can’t do much, Naoaki, besides kick from time to time, sometime a little bit too hard, but he would never hurt me”

“...I don’t like” he declares.

“I know, baby” she coos “but he can’t talk like you do”

“Will he kick when out?”

“No, of course not” She clarifies as she continues to caress her child's soft hand, enjoying every second she has with her babies before they’re inevitably…

Her happiness for this loving moment is cut short once Naobito comes to mind. 

There are only a few members of this household that know Naobito’s intentions behind their second child—something that she’s been arduously keeping away from gracing young Naoaki’s ears. 

She knows that if this child is born with a higher amount of cursed energy, Naobito would not reconsider, not even for the slightest, not discarding Naoaki in favor of training his new sucesor. It was a cruel way of working, but such were the ways of the jujutsu community. And she felt frustrated that she was absolutely powerless to do something about it.

Nonetheless, she wasn’t one to cross her arms and let life around her go on. She would do everything she could to prevent whispers from traveling across the estate and making way to his innocent mind until she could no more.

“Naoaki” his mother calls, and the boy, who was resting his cheek against her stomach yet again, looks up to her with the innocence she fears he’ll no longer have in a few years. “Promise me that once… your brother is born, you’ll always love him”

He tilts his head to the side, unsure of what her words mean. She laughs. Oh , what did she expect from a child? 

Well, children often go uncredited for their perception of their surroundings, and just as jujutsu began to take root in his interests, she hoped that her teachings about love and family would also become part of his values.

“He’s not here to take your place, or to be your competition” she continues, gently patting his head once more “Regardless of what father says”

“He kick?” Naoaki asks back.

Tomoko smiles upon coming to the understanding that Naoaki’s love is conditional to whether his brother will kick her or not when he’s born—a pure way of thinking she wishes to protect.

“No, he won’t” she shakes her head, and it’s enough to reassure young Naoaki “You’ll be there to teach him not to—but promise me Naoaki, that no matter what happens… you’ll always love your brothers, just how I love you”

He stares at her for a few seconds, completely ignoring the plural mention of brothers (already expecting to have more), and processing the rest of her words—he’s unsure as to what she meant by replacement and competition. Yes, competition is something that’s always encouraged by his father and his cousins, so he looks forward to that! But what was to be replaced? And what did that have to do with his brother?

Those were all words that didn’t make sense to him at that particular moment, so he didn’t give them the weight Tomoko intended, but he understood love and protection. 

Love, because that’s all he ever felt when he was with his mother, and when the people around him would compliment him. He felt completed, with purpose—he felt like there was nothing sweeter in the world than this feeling, not even the sweets his mother would smuggle to give him when they were alone, and he wanted to see his brother to experience the same when he was finally there with him

And protection, because that’s the feeling the sight of his brother in his mother’s arms evoked inside him.

Just a few weeks after this loving exchange, his mother had finally gone into labor. 

It was something that everyone expected to happen pretty soon, and kept a close eye to for when it would begin, as well as earning the proper amount of concern from the midwives that were on her beck and call to tend any request she might have.

But what seemed to be a healthy pregnancy until that point, soon took a turn for the worst, for Tomoko had gone into labor just 1 month before the proper gestation period went through.

The doctors had warned her and Naobito that this was a possibility, the easiest situation she could face in this already problematic pregnancy, for she still wasn’t on the clear from her last pregnancy, but due to Naobito’s threats, they marked her competent enough to have another child.

Luckily, she got what they had called the simplest problem to deal with, for the other side of the spectrum depicted her death, if not worse, the death of both .

Once that was identified, labor proceeded to turn even harder than the one she had to endure when Naoaki was born, against the common belief that pregnancies only got easier the more children a woman had.

Tomoko had gone for hours and hours on end; screaming and crying as she begged the nurses to take the baby out so she could end her suffering; a sound so horrifying, that Naoaki thought he would be haunted by it for the rest of his life. But they were unable to do anything because the baby had come in a compromising position to begin with, and if they did the maneuvers they were thinking of, they could cause irreversible damage to the baby. 

Nonetheless, the quick thinking of the main doctor was able to help Tomoko out of this difficult situation, and the baby was able to come out of these hardships— just after 24 hours of unceasing pain.

The first cries of her newborn were like heaven to her ears, and once the baby was in her arms, all pain seemed to vanish, replaced by unconditional love.

Once the doctor and nurses deemed it adequate for the mother to be healthy enough to get visits, as well as the baby being well enough to go on without incubation, congratulations were promptly due to the father, but he could not care less for their celebration, if the child was to fill his expectations, they maybe he would indulge in their idiotic cheers.

Out of the expected visitors, Naobito was the first to step inside.

Naoaki wished to go alongside him, but his father stopped him dead in his tracks. This led him to rationalize that maybe his father wanted to be first one in seeing his wife and baby, see if they  were healthy and ok, and invite him over once done—but what he failed to realize was that Naobito was thinking about was everything but that, doing just exactly what his mother had previously warned him of. 

But even if he knew, Naoaki did not have to worry about anything, for his brother had unfortunately been born with less cursed energy than him. A revelation that would be insignificant to him, worrying for his mother, but angering to his father.

Tomoko tried to ease his exasperation by reminding him that this son will still be able to see curses, so he wasn’t a complete disappointment as he was adamant to repeat over and over again. But her husband refused to see reason, even going as far to berate her knowledge of sorcery, reminding her of his place as a woman.

Either way, her words meant nothing at this point, for he was convinced that he did not put his efforts on getting his wife pregnant just for her to birth another failure of a son.

“At least give him a name” She pleaded at the end. A few seconds pass and Naobito muttered something under his breath before storming out of the room, declaring his detachment for his newborn.

She remained quiet as began to mourn the fact her husband had decided to give up on his son. His decision resounding in her head in form of his footsteps vanishing into the distance

Her eyes darted from her baby to the door, which began to slide open, eventually revealing her older son to be standing just beside the frame.

His face is slightly scrunched and his lips were pressed together into a thin line—an expression that gave her all she needed to know: Naoaki had heard all, if not most, of their heated argument.

Regretting that a wonderful day as the birth of her son had now turned into a mournful event, Tomoko proceeded to do what any mother would do: swallow her pain and do what she thought was enough to lighten up the mood.

“Would you like to see him?” She asks, gesturing to Naoaki to move closer. He complies with a nod and he soon finds himself on her side, standing on his tip toes as he attempts to see his newborn brother.

Tomoko leanes the baby downwards and closer to Naoaki.

“Carry?”

“Not yet—he’s too heavy for you”

If he can’t carry, then Naoaki thinks he’s allowed to poke his red chubby cheeks.

“Careful!” Tomoko gasps as he sees Naoaki pressing into his skin a bit too rough, her forthright voice is enough to have him retract his finger and look away in embarrassment “He’s still small, and weak. Remember you promised to protect him?”

“...sorry”

“It’s ok” she sighs, she could never be angry at her baby—well, her older baby. “Just be careful from now on, ok? When he grows up, he’ll be able to play with you, train with you, wouldn’t you like that?”

He nods, and the thought he’d never considered before, of having a training buddy that is, begins to fill him with happiness.

“Would you like to know his name?”

He nods once more.

“Naohiko” she reveals, and his eyes widened in amazement. “Just like you—say hello to your little brother”

And then, a joyful grin parts his lips.

“Hello, Naohiko—I’m Naoaki”

He doesn’t think it’s possible for him to feel happier than he does at this moment. 

Just one look at the baby and his limitless imagination begins to paint a life where his brother is now part of it. 

He can picture it now: his brother will grow to look up to him, and desire to be a sorcerer as well! He’ll grow strong too, but he’ll always be stronger than his baby brother, because he has to be. He has to protect him too! 

It’s his role assigned by his mother after all, and he’s promised to do so anyway.

And they’ll train with their father as well, they’ll make him proud for sure! 

But most of all, everyone will cherish his younger brother, just the way he’s begun to love him.

Naoaki couldn’t wait to show him off to the world.

But for now, he’ll stay by his mother’s and brother’s side—until it is time for him to go back to training.

Another year had passed, but not as Naoaki had hoped.

Training had become far more stricter once Naoaki grew closer to the age where sorcerers would begin to show their cursed techniques—if they had any. 

Tomoko disagreed with this course of action, but knowing well to not step in matters she wasn’t invited to, she decided to stay in her lane and she cared for her now 3rd pregnancy.

Well, at least Naoaki seemed ecstatic to continue on with his training—however, his enjoyment was briefly cut short when it became apparent that his father had no intentions of training Naohiko.

He realized this by one day asking his father about the moment his younger brother would be able to train alongside him, only to receive an answer many could consider a heartless way to refer to one’s son.

“If he’s getting trained, it won’t be by me. I won’t waste my time on a worthless child like him ”

This splashed Naoaki with a mix of sensations he’d never experienced before, and sure he never wanted to experience again—of course, he’s seen his father get angry at him whenever he made a mistake, something that efficiently helped him learn what not to do; and he’s heard his father use those words quite frequently with other members of the family, learning soon enough that they did not hold a positive connotation.

In fact, he’s even heard one of his own relatives use those words towards his baby brother when talking to him, something that always left him with a bad aftertaste and the necessity to defend him, but chose to ignore nonetheless once they began to compliment him instead.

But to use them on his own son?

That was different.

His mind goes back to the day of his brother's birth and how he heard his mom and dad fight about something. He didn’t think he was referring to his brother, probably talking about his cousin Toji or someone else, since everyone always spoke of him like that (which he now thought weird to be discussing first thing after his wife had gone through labor) but now that this situation was presented to him…

Why would he use them on his own son? To the child his mother loved, he loved.

Why would his father use, of all words, those to refer to him?

It must’ve been a mistake.

He yearned to ask him for an explanation, but before he could even think how to start his questioning, Naobito pulled him right back into their previous affair with a quick dismissal of further conversations.

Understanding what he was to respond with, Naoaki fixed his composure, took a deep breath, and plunged himself into the headspace he always went to when training, and began.

Well, he could always ask his mother later on if he wanted a response, and in a way, he even began to feel relieved that his brother’s were spared of this exhausting training—one that Naobito’s lack of preference for his second son gave Naoaki the suggestion that he was perhaps, the sole person capable of enduring it.

And he couldn’t feel any more special.

Eventually, his second brother was born.

Another healthy boy, named Naohito.

This time, however, Naobito wasn’t as involved as he was during previous pregnancies—because when it came down to adding value to his son, he was disappointed to see that his child was born with even less cursed energy than Naohiko. 

Tomoko foolishly attempted to ease his concerns by reminding him that his children would still be considered equals amongst the Zen’in, and that his frustration of not having the child he wanted lead him to believe Naohito was inferior compared to Naohiko, when in reality, they both held similar amounts of cursed energy.

But nothing good came out of that conversation—except a stinging red mark on her cheek and tears on her corners once Naobito decided that he’s had enough of her unwanted opinion.

He simply limited himself to name the child and move on with his life—leaving Tomoko with the fear that perhaps Naobito is beginning to consider getting another woman to take on her role.

Oh….

How could she ever explain this to poor Naoaki, who had the misfortune of seeing her get hit by struck by her own husband? A view so shocking, that led him to instinctively pick up his brother with his own little arms and run to a safer location, just to avoid being pulled into the dangerous vortex Naobito’s feelings are used to be?

That day, Naoaki learned two new things through the hard way: His father was not the loving man he’d grown to falsely believe he was, presenting him with the disappointment he wasn’t able to shake even after returning to his mother’s chambers and meeting his newborn brother.

And the second thing, was the reason why the same was trying to conceive more children, even after he already had him. A reason that rattled the very foundations of his core, and presented him with a concern he never once considered possible for him to face:

Rejection.

After a few supportive words of his mother, he was able to quiet down those feelings—at least temporary.

But once he was out of her grasp, they came back to him and at full force.

No matter what he did, or how much he tried, his heart couldn’t sway the vile sensations that being replaced by the siblings he loved so dearly brought to him. 

Just because the man he looked up to in admiration, for being his own father , for having extensive knowledge of jujutsu, and for showing his preference for him over the others by spending most of his time, if not all… hurt him in an inexplicable way.

And all because there was a chance he would no longer deem him adequate.

The slightest possibility of being replaced was enough to spend Naoaki spiraling into a maze of terror , one that would begin to keep him up at night as repeated images of his brother’s faces would flash on his mind’s eye. Constantly stabbing him with the possibility that indeed, he’d had to start seeing them as competition.

But how could this be? 

Naobito and the rest of his relatives constantly reminded him that he was the one to bring pride, honor, power to the Zen’in clan—has it always been a ruse?

It seemed so, because Naobito never brought up that topic again, leaving him in a state of gaslighting, convincing him that his imagination was the one that made everything up, and not Naobito’s own cruel ambition.

However, even if he labeled those successions as nothing more than a cold fantasy, something changed inside Naoaki’s heart, and he began to loathe the moments his mother would announce she was pregnant.

He never desired her ill, nor did he think himself capable of bringing harm to her and his future siblings—but he’d become tense whenever her stomach began to show, knowing well that there was a possibility that a better version of himself was coming his way, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Worst of all, his father was looking forward to it.

Desperate to show his worth to the only man he thought significant in his life, Naoaki began to train harder, longer , even without Naobito’s supervision. 

Both the hei and kukuru unit initially felt surprised to see Naoaki on the training grounds outside the usual hours, finding it reasonable to step in and encourage him to take a break, to play with the rest of his cousins, or go spend time with his brothers—all suggestions that fell deaf on his ears as he reminded them that he was to keep up with the expectations of the clan.

They briefly admired his initiative, but as this kept going on…they couldn’t help but worry that he might end up killing himself.

But Naoaki didn’t see the tired boy they saw—all that his eyes could visualize was the moment Naobito, his father, would finally accept that all he ever wanted, all he ever needed, was already before him.

He didn’t need to keep having children, for he was more than enough to deliver. 

And deliver he would, regardless of what it took to get him there.

Another year passes yet again, and his 3rd brother, their 4th son, is born.

Naosuke .

Naoaki was overwhelmed by anxiety the very moment it was announced that his mother had started going through labor, but once again, he had nothing to worry about because the child turned out to be inferior compared to his oldest brother—a fact that brought some form of twisted relief to him, but resentment from his father, for he began to believe he was incapable of creating a stronger child.

Those around him took this as an opportunity to remind him what he already feared: that the only one worthy of being his successor was his oldest son, the one he initially held in such a high position, but disregarded when he didn’t give him what he wanted when he wanted it.

But that didn’t falter him, not one bit, and as he proceeded to validate the health of his newborn, their gender, and cursed energy, Naobito had already set eyes on his next son.

However, that wasn’t the only succession that imparted significance that time.

Something occurred that year, something that would temporarily distract Naobito’s eternal hunger for power, bringing him the slight reassurance that perhaps not everything was as ill intended as he liked to portray fate to be, and change Naoaki’s life forever .

And what was that, you ask?

Well, it was simple.

Naoaki turned 5, and… revealed to have a cursed technique.

Not just any—his father’s : projection sorcery.

An announcement that filled both the expectations his clan knew he would be able to deliver, and his own pride.

Oh, Naoaki remembers very well that he couldn’t sleep the night of his ceremony. Tossing and turning around the futon, and all whilst holding a grin, he started to imagine how proud everyone around him would be once it was revealed that he was the prophesied golden child of his clan.

The day he had waited for all his life, the reason why he was born , was finally here! and as the servants got him changed into his ceremonial robes, he couldn’t stop jumping and giggling out of excitement. Nothing seemed to calm down the expectant boy, not even the promise of getting ice cream or sweets if he behaved, that is… until he was finally in the presence of the elders.

It was at this particular moment that he understood why his relatives did their best in offering reassuring words of everything will be fine and don’t be scared .

Because the fixed, penetrating gazes of the higher ups on his figure made him feel minimized, insignificant even. Giving him the impression that this could easily go two ways:

If he was successful, his accomplishment would go on to be broadcasted to all of the members of the Zen’in family, if not the jujutsu community. He would be regarded as a genius, a prodigy of sorts, and set on the path of prosperity.

But if he was a failure… his family would never allow him to forget, and he would undoubtedly be replaced by one of his many siblings.

Not that it would happen.. since he already began to have suspicions of his own days prior: he could feel himself becoming stronger, quicker, more observant—by beginning to notice curses and aura’s he’s never been able to see before. All symptoms he took as his technique finally showed up.

But if he did… Well, he didn’t know what he would do.

Circling back to the present, his father’s stoic nature didn’t help much either—when Naoaki glanced at him in hopes of getting a comforting reaction from his aggravating thoughts, Naobito simply scoffed and looked away, returning his gaze to the elders before them, almost as if all this were below him.

Naoaki had to admit that his father’s expression was one that he wasn’t really expecting, certainly not today , but he gave him the benefit of the doubt; after all, he had come early on to the conclusion that his father wasn’t one to be very open about his feelings (asides from anger), but once this was all done, he was sure he would get those supportive words he’s always longed to hear.

Thus, the ceremony began, and just as predicted, Naoaki proved himself to be a man of the Zen’in caliber. 

The elders finished their examination by encouraging Naobito to be proud of his own and his son’s efforts, words that he accepted with seemingly great respect and evoked a huge sense of happiness inside his prideful, grinning son, before being promptly dismissed.

“Father” Naoaki is the first one to speak once the two of them exit the chambers, the youngest just a few steps behind his dad. 

Naobito doesn’t respond, and doesn’t show any intentions to and he simply continues on with his path.

“ Father ” Naoaki believes his father to not have heard his first approach, so he tries yet again, this time, with a louder tone. “Father, are you proud—”

“Proud of you?” Naobito cuts through his words; but his timbre is not one many would consider as inviting nor of contentment. There is something sharper, somber hidden beneath his interruption as he now turns around to see a wonderstruck Naoaki, who believed that his father’s sudden reaction was to finally give him what he waited for.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Naoaki nods, and Naobito scoffs.

“Proud of you? For what?”

His son frowns, unsure of what his father meant by that—did he… was he not present at the ceremony?

“For my results” He quietly clarifies “I…wanted to know if you were proud—”

“For doing what was expected from you? For doing your job ?” Naobito couldn’t believe it—the amount of incredulity he felt for his son at this particular moment made him reconsider if this was the same child everyone had bragged him about. “Were you expecting less?”

“No!” Naoaki blurted “Of course not…”

“Then why do you find it necessary for me to congratulate you? Are you the same as your incompetent brothers? You should’ve told me—I would’ve set my eyes on someone else if that was the case”

There it was, the cruelty that seemed to always accompany his father wherever he went.

Of all scenarios, this was the one he wasn’t entertaining.

His words felt like a stab on the heart, no, various stabs. Precise, sharp, and with all intentions of hurting him.

Naoaki’s stomach begins to twist in discomfort as he takes on the hurtful expressions used to attack his brothers, as well as the questioning of his own talent.

Ever the seeker of his father’s approval, it doesn’t take him long before his folding to his will—bowing his head slightly and looking to the ground as he apologizes for speaking out of turn.

“No. I’m not like them” Naobito smirks.

“Good to know we’re on the same page then” he turns around and continues on with his path, which revealed to be in direction of his wife’s chamber, the same room she had began to use to sleep separately from her husband—an indication of their deteriorating relationship, if it wasn’t obvious enough by their previous interactions.

It has been a while since Naobito graced Tomoko with his presence, opting to visit her just to get her pregnant or if he felt particularly interested in indulging in her body, although he’s already begun to visit other women. Mistresses he considered in better condition, because apparently, pregnancy only lowered a woman’s value.

Anyways, it was safe to assume that there must be a specific reason behind it. 

Naoaki, who had been knowledgeable of their distance, attempted to see their encounter as his father’s interest in informing her of the good news— as well as coming to the decision that she would no longer be required to have more children! He already fits his criteria, why else would he need more for?

Ah, the search was finally over, she could now rest and spend time with her children, just as she’d always desired. The same way Naoaki desired to spend time with her and his siblings, coming to the realization that he’s missed many of their important achievements in favor of training non-stop—something he now wishes to remediate.

But if there was something the Zen’in the capable of doing, aside from producing strong sorcerers and working against women’s rights, was reminding him that there is no such thing as a sense of stability inside their walls.

And to Naoaki, that warning came in the form of his mother’s next words.

“I’m pregnant”

At the same time Naoaki’s power began to thrive, thanks to the arduous training Naobito began to impose on him now that he was able to see curses, his mother began to decline.

Tomoko felt as if she were dying—and by the circumstances of her the ongoing birth of her 5th son, that might’ve as well been her reality.

Her situation was already fragile as it was, and for a long time as well, but when she went into labor three months before the expected time, she felt as if this was beyond a shadow of doubt, the beginning of her end.

Starting with the fact that Naobito was nowhere to be found, having already lost interest in his child as soon as the doctors told him that he had high chances of being born with less than desirable ciscumrsantes—for lack of better words, and in the best case scenario, he would even be born at all . 

Still, he forced her to continue on with the pregnancy, because surely, that was all that she was good for.

On the other hand, Naoaki was undergoing a conflict of his own.

Just as he expanded on his skills and even began to be recognized as a possible candidate for clan leader , he was also relieved to hear that his brother he was about to receive wasn’t to become his equal, or superior for that matter. That meant he still had his position secured for a bit longer, that is, until his father disappointingly decided to have another kid.

However, he doubts this is about to happen, for the other reason of his struggle comes into play: this last pregnancy left his mother in a deplorable state, one that would certainly lead any doctor to absolutely forbid her from even considering having another child, unless of course, she wanted to die.

She could barely move on her own after her son was born, how did anyone expect her to take care of her 5 children?

That’s where his second reason begins: his youngest brother, as most premature babies, was worryingly sick. The nurses didn’t want to entertain this idea, but they thought it adequate to  prepare the mother to face the fact that maybe… he wouldn’t survive.

A motive that was quick to ignite rumors and whispers across the Zen’in hallways, with the overwhelming majority voicing their concerns, while others straight up saying that perhaps, it was best to let the child die. That way at least, there would be no further tarnishing of the Zen’in name.

Their words became the deciding factor to the conclusion of his conflict, and Naoaki discovered, for the first time in his life, what hatred felt like.

He didn’t know why he was engulfed in this uncontrollable fiery desire to shut them all up, perhaps because his brother was born weaker than the rest, and it was undeniable that he needed more care , protection even, if he was to live. 

He kept a reasonable distance between his relatives and himself in order to keep focused on his purpose in life, but just this time, he would allow himself to divert his thoughts in order to defend his newborn brother.

In a way, he also hoped that his father would come up to defend him—but just by remembering how arrogantly Naobito behaved on the day of his ceremony, it was more than enough to toss those desires out the window.

Well, not like he needed his father to choose what was right.

He could make his own decisions, and with this power is that he opted to stay by his mother's side as she was tearfully stripped away from her son —one that Naobito didn’t even bother to be present during his birth, less to even give him his name when it became apparent that he was to be the weakest of his children— as he was sent to be incubated for his detrimental survival.

In a way… Tomoko was glad that her child had been born sickly. 

It came to her as an omen—a sign that would lead Naobito to understand that it was time to stop this meaningless race for power, and give her the rest she deserved. She hated throwing her son under the bus this way, but she really hoped that Naoaki would step up to support her belief and hype himself up as the only kid he ever really needed, at least until Naobito decides to take in a mistress and start having children with her.

Tomoko felt…disgusted to have stooped so low to the point of pitting her children against each other, against their own father , just for her own personal gain.

But for a woman that has known nothing but indifference from her family, it was only natural of her to attempt to seek any kind of comfort—regardless of how she was to obtain it, or whose feelings she was to hurt.

Nonetheless, that didn’t stop her from naming the child herself.

Tomoko could’ve given him any kind of name, and no one would be there to stop her. Less so Naobito, who implied this child to be too weak to even be his.

Yet, even if she had all these endless options to choose from for the first time... she opted to pick the safe route: Give him a name that would prevent him from feeling alienated from his brothers, one that she hoped would bring him the love and care she was absolutely sure he would lack in his life, and that she would fail to provide him herself with, for she feared her end was near as well…

Naofumi .

Many began to believe that Naofumi’s conception was an omen of the imminent downfall of the Zen’in clan, something that not even Naoaki’s thriving power could outdo. 

But one fateful December night of 1989, just when Tomoko was heavily pregnant with her last child, something…shifted. A change that everyone capable of understanding jujutsu felt… impossible to describe—as if the wind suddenly changed its direction, filling the atmosphere with the belief that something… was to begin . As if something were to occur, but surprisingly, not for the first time.

Everyone came to the conclusion that this was more than mere coincidence, more so after testimonies began to rack up one after the other, detailing just the same sensation and at the same time as well. This was too big to solely be an isolated incident, thus, it wouldn’t take long before jujutsu headquarters issued a statement of their own.

Naoaki attempted to distract himself of this perception by throwing himself completely to his training and tending to his sick mother, but even then, his mind kept replaying the successions of that day over and over again like a broken record, for he continuously looked for a way to best describe what transpired, because after his relatives received the official explanation from HQ, they began to act…coldly towards him—something that he would later describe as the beginning of his undoing.

He didn’t know it yet, but fate had already begun to stack its card against him. 

And it started with the birth of his feeble brother, who many completely ignored his existence.

Then, the arrival of the gojo heir. Who was born with both innate techniques of his family, something that hasn’t occurred in generations. Something that had the Zen’in’s eyes further trailing all of his mother’s movements, as well as his own, for they obtained this unfounded thought that if their rivals got this blessing… they would so too.

A losing race that became evident once during a fateful march day of 1990, after 9 months and seemingly a miracle after her last failed pregnancy…

Naoya was finally born.

Naoaki rushed to see his mother upon being told by the nearby servants that his mother had started going through labor, waiting outside her room as he heard his mother scream in agony. He wished to burst through the doors and be by her side, but the nurses prevented him from doing so—warning him that if something were to happen to him, they wouldn’t be able to help him because their priority was his mother.

Fortunately, it wouldn’t take longer than a few hours for the screams of his newborn brother to be heard across the estate—alongside the rushed footsteps of his father and a few other relatives that yearned to see the newest addition of the Zen’in clan, a view that Naoaki thought all too…confusing, if not unpleasant, for he never saw this kind of excitement for any of his other brothers before.

He didn’t let this saddening observation overrule his own excitement for meeting his newest younger brother though, which he did by following closely behind Naobito.

Tomoko, who had only managed to stay conscious for a few seconds before fainting out of exhaustion, still managed to give her son one look before having her baby pulled from her arms by an eager father, a man that looked down to his newborn, analyzing him for a few seconds, before a smile parted his lips—a sight that gave Naoaki’s heart its first wound.

He didn’t wish to feel jealous by the sight of his father holding his newborn so closely to him, whilst his eyes glimmered with relief and satisfaction; but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that it hurt him very much.

Naoaki tried to console himself by believing his father carried this same expression when he was born, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.

«Perhaps he’s just worried for his health» Naoaki thought as he inched closer to his father, hoping to get a look at his brother. «Naofumi was sick when he was born... and the doctors thought neither my mom or the baby would make it…»

His responsibility as older brother didn’t allow him to see anything else but a child he had to protect, even after it became apparent that Naobito finally obtained the child he was waiting for.

When Naoya took his first steps, everyone congratulated him as if he’d discovered the cure for cancer. Yes, it was an achievement to be recognized, but he doesn’t remember this kind of enthusiasm ever being directed to him… well, maybe he was too young to remember.

Either way, he didn’t allow his confusion to stop him from celebrating him as well—after all, Naoya was impressive on its own, but some relatives still regarded Naoaki as the pride and joy of the family.

However, those compliments began to slowly diminish upon Naoya beginning his training; Naobito had spent less time with him and more with his ototo once he was deemed capable to start his jujutsu indoctrination; Naoaki vaguely remembers being capable of doing the same as Naoya, if not more—but what he failed to realize was that his comparison only came from his delusional perspective, for the talent he was showing was something he did not have when at the same age.

Something that his relatives wasted no second to bring forth.

This became the first time in his life that his family began to compare him to Naoya, telling him that he wasn’t as remarkable as his younger brother—and this.. rattled something inside his core.

The fear of rejection , one he’d kept at bay for the sake of his mental peace as well as protected thanks to his brother's inadequate nature, came back to haunt him once more.

Still, he wanted to make the best of the situation—he was competent enough to understand that not everybody was going to agree with his terms, something that occurred even when he was in the spotlight. But when Naobito began to show just how…willing he was to be involved in Naoya’s life, that’s when it became clear:

He was being replaced.

But that fear wasn’t legally recognized until Naoya’s 4th birthday. 

In a truly outstanding fashion, for he was 1 year earlier than the norm, his youngest brother finally proved that he was the prophetic strong sorcerer that everyone expected to come from Naobito’s blood.

And worst of all… he also had his father’s technique.

This is when things took a turn for the worse, and the members that once saw Naoaki as something to pride on, began to resent him.

Ah, we should’ve known you would never amount to anything

Naoya is such a promising young boy, not like the failure of his brother, Naoaki.

I don’t know why Naobito held onto him for that long—thankfully, he doesn’t have to stick with him any longer.

Naoya is definitely the better candidate to become clan leader!

Naoya is everything Naoaki was, but actually good.

Naoaki wanted to cry.

How could they turn on him so easily? After all the things they’ve gone through together? Sure, he wasn’t the best child when it came to it—he allowed himself to be absorbed by arrogance from time to time, but he was still talented on his own! That was to be recognized on its own, right? He still had some use, right?!

No .

Not anymore.

And yet, desperate to cling to his past, Naoaki had to come to the conclusion that their opinions, as hurtful as they were, mattered not compared to his father. He was the one that held the final word in these topics, thus. He should be the only one he worries about.

He hadn’t spoken to him in a while, since the training hours they partaken together were slowly becoming limited and scarce (no doubt coming  from his preference to train Naoya) but that didn’t mean he didn’t care!

It’s just that Naoya needed more guidance right now. Naoaki had been in the game far longer and was deemed competent enough to handle things on his own, something that lead Naobito to slightly divert his attention away from him. 

All he needed was to be reminded that he had another child, as talented as Naoya! And everything will be the same as before.

His delusion sent him to look for Naobito first thing in the morning, eventually bumping into him just after having breakfast, a situation considered less than ideal for this conversation, for his father wasn't particularly fond of having to work so early in the day. But Naoaki didn’t see this, or had perhaps forgotten… completely focused on  pleasing the man he’s grown to admire from the moment he was born.

“Father, can we…speak?” he murmured, but there was no response, at least not the  one he was looking for. 

Instead, Naobito yawns and he keeps walking, but he doesn’t allow his back to stray away from him further than a few feet. He thinks he didn’t hear him, so decides try once more 

“Father”

Just… footsteps.

“ Father, there’s something I need you to know” he resumes, hoping to incite some kind of reaction out of him “I know we haven’t spent that much time together and we’ve become somewhat distant after Naoya was born but…I want you to know that I can still train and I’d like to—”

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about” Naobito eventually speaks up, but once again, it was not how he expected it to be. His words leave Naoaki feeling as if he’d just spurted out random words from his mouth without context, which to his father, was true from a certain perspective.

“I… I want to continue training with you. I can do it after Naoya, it doesn’t matter, I just want to be—”

“Oh” Naobito smiles, stopping “Is that what this is about?”

It’s Naoaki’s turn to go silent. Why is his father acting as if he didn’t know what he was talking about?

“I… yes…?” he responds, meekly as he’s indoctrinated to do so when referring to his father. If only he’d also learned to not speak back to his him, Naobito silently laments.

“Seems like you didn’t get the memo, Naoaki . I no longer have no use for you”

The world around him seems to freeze.

“What?” he breathes.

“You heard me” Naobito shrugs “it was fun while it lasted… not really, you never really did what he’s capable of doing ”

Naoaki frowns.

“I—I don’t understand. I did everything you wanted, trained how you wanted me to train” he clenches his jaw “I even went days without taking a break just to show I am worthy of being your son!”

“Did I ask you to do that?”

Naoaki couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He feels himself growing frustrated, annoyed, as if his words weren’t coming out as he intended, however, this want his fault.

It was Naobito’s own disposition that prohibited him to care for what his son had to say.

And the fire he was holding back out of fear for his father’s reaction, was finally set out of control.

“I can achieve what you want too! Just like Naoya! I just want to be by your side, I don’t need to become the leader if you— ”

“Ah, so nothing more than a lapdog?”

“No! Of course not! I just want— I—“ Naoaki snaps “what’s so great about that stupid Naoya anyways?!”

And that does it for him.

“SHUT UP!”

Naoki doesn’t remember much after that, beside the infuriated eyes of his father as he proceeded to strike him across the face, with enough force to send him tumbling down to the and with no remorse in sight.

This wasn’t like the times they would train together, where his father would attack him whenever there was an opening. 

Back then, it was with the sole intention of showing him how to counter the many attacks he would receive when on missions after he became a sorcerer, which in his words, were only mild versions of the reality.

No…this time, there was no lecture, no teaching, only pain, suffering —the clear intention of hurting him just to gain his silence.

His insolent son, the same one he spent years cultivating and teaching, did not understand how the Zen’in world worked—just because he was the best at that particular moment, didn’t mean he was to be for the rest of his life. And the audacity he had to compare himself to Naoya… There were still many lessons to be taught.

Unfortunately for him, his father no longer deem it necessary for him to teach him that; if he wants to survive, he’ll have to do so on his own . 

The man takes one last look at his agonizing son before scoffing and leaving the premises, abandoning a child who was very much in need of help from the surrounding staff, who did nothing but stare at him, before moving on with their duties.

At least the servants knew how to keep quiet when it came to witnessing the many atrocious acts committed across the estate; the only ones that were more willing to comment on this situation were his relatives, and his brothers, who thankfully were away to see his father vanish his son from his grace.

Or so he thought, for when he saw a shadow moving on the corner of his eyes, looked up to see who it was.

None other than a curious Naoya, who intently stared at him by peaking just over the door.

Naoya’s presence helped Naoaki remember the words his mother muttered the day of Naohiko’s birthday, and he couldn’t feel further ashamed that his lack of tact lead his youngest brother to witness his father’s gruesome side, something that he should’ve been protecting him from, not encouraging.

He realizes that there’s no way he would be able to protect him from his father once training (now that it became evident that he no longer intended to give him attention).

Well, if Naoya was to be trained and there was nothing to do to stop it… the least he could do is prepare him to anticipate his father’s oscillating character, and give him the tools to avoid his ire.

When night engulfed the Zen’in estate, and everyone had seemingly gone to sleep, Naoaki got out of his bed.

The thoughts of that earlier successions continued to haunt him through every second of the day, and yet, he couldn’t remove the image of Naoya’s frowning face from his mind's eye.

It reminded him of when he first saw his mother and father fight—it was a terrible, horrible moment he wished to permanently from his records but he couldn’t; he was alone when it happened, for his brothers were too young to understand (and he didn’t particularly feel that was something to speak with at their age) and he wasn’t about to go and remind his mother of what happened. 

Thus, he never really learned how to deal with these kinds of situations, forcing him to continuously fall and learn from his own mistakes without the help of anyone else.

But now that he’s overcome that obstacle, it was his duty to help Naoya with it too. After all, he had been in Naoya’s shoes, so there was no one else that could understand him better than him. 

A fact that led him to seek his brother out in the middle of the night and do what others had failed him in.

Naoaki carefully traversed through the living quarters, checking so often as to see if he was not being followed, until he arrived at Naoya's chambers, coincidentally just a few doors away from his own.

He lightly knocks on the door, leaving a margin of silence before deciding to knock again, but before he’s able to do so, he hears a subtle shuffle and groan coming from the other side—a symbol that Naoya had heard his approach and had been woken up accordingly.

«I’m sorry» Naoaki laments as leans closer to the door «I’m doing this for your good»

“Naoya” he calls out, low enough for the boy to hear but quiet enough for no one else to catch on his words “Naoya, are you awake?”

A few more seconds pass, and then, an answer.

“Who is it?” There’s drowsiness, as well as a slight annoyance for having been interrupted, undeniably present in his voice. But knowing how Naoya usually behaved, he had difficulty separating it from his well known impatience, or the behavior of a 4 year old child. Or so he assumes they would be like, since his other brothers were never like that (well… maybe Naohiko)

“It’s me, Naoaki-nii” He responds, sliding the door open “I wanted to talk to you”

Naoya raises an eyebrow, confused as to why his brother would firstly, open his room without permission and secondly, want to speak to him at this hour. 

Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow? Nonetheless, he allows him to enter.

Naoaki doesn’t allow his eyes to wander Naoya’s room for more than a few seconds, but one quick glance and he was able to see the mountains of gifts he’d received by his family—no doubt thanks to the revelation of his earlier ceremony.

It sorrowfully reminded him of the time he used to be graced by the care of his own clan…

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here” Naoaki tosses those thoughts and proceeds with his initial motive as he slides the door behind him close, once shut, he makes way to the edge of the futon and sits besides his sleepy brother “I wanted to talk about today, what you saw earlier—”

“With father?” Naoya pieces the puzzle together.

“Yes. Ah…well, I wished you hadn’t seen it—you probably don’t know much about me and father, and I doubt he’ll ever tell you, but we used to be close. And that moment…I made him angry, I guess”

Naoya looks away, and Naoaki believes him to be attempting to defuse a conversation that quickly began unrequited.

“I’m sorry, perhaps this wasn’t the best moment, but I just didn’t want you to think that—”

“I know, Naoaki-nii” Naoya cuts him, looking back to him “I know why it happened”

“ Oh ” Naoaki ponders, very confused “You do?”

“Mmhm” he hums, and he sees something inside Naoya overtake him. “Dad was mad at you because you’re useless”

Naoaki pales.

“E— excuse me?”

Sure, children could be very bold, if not inopportune for most of the time. But that’s because they’re young, naïve, they have yet to discover proper etiquette when referring to others, as well as limits to respect if their relationship is to continue. 

And since their mother was already out of the picture… It only meant that his relatives, if not Naobito himself… were the ones in charge of setting those limits… oh, no.

“Yes” He nods “You’re useless to the clan, that’s why father decided that you’re no longer of his interest”

“Don’t….don't’ say that, Naoya” Naoaki frowns, and the wound that started from his younger brother’s words only grows deeper and deeper with each syllable.

And the kid even dared to release an exasperated sigh, as if he were dealing with someone who had no cause.

“You’re useless, aniki. Accept it” Naoya shrugs, just like his father “It’s not my fault that I’m better and dad decided I was gonna be his favorite”

“ Naoya—”

“It’s not my fault that you’re too stupid to realize it” he yawns, starting to accomodate himself back and under the covers the bed, but even so, that doesn’t stop the all too familiar evil grlint in his eyes.

Even though he had his mother’s eyes, it wasn’t her fondness looking back at him.

The only image he was able to find was that…. Of his own father’s hatred. 

Naobito had begun to spread the disdain for his first born onto his youngest, and it began to take root. 

Something he… he couldn’t stop, failing his mother for the second time.

“Goodnight, Aniki. See you around ”

But more than a farewell, his words were intended to be a threat.

He wished to believe that Naoya’s words were nothing more than his clan’s attempts on alienating him from the rest—after all, he’d been witness himself of their countless attempts of trying to pull him into their twisted games, failing to do so when his mother’s teachings proved to be stronger and bigger than any weeds they attempted to plant on his mind.

He wished to think that he was simply doing what others had told him. But once he saw him repeat them, over and over again, to him, and the rest of his brothers… it became clear that he was far from a victim, but an instigator .

The words he said to him that night came out of his own free will, his own thinking—and Naobito was only giving him ammunition.

If anything, he was relishing on seeing the sadness and pain in his brother's eyes once he berated them, and worst of all… he seemed to be getting rewarded by it, for he was acting like some sort of puppet for the Zen’in clan.

Adding that his talent seemed to be on a much higher level than his when around his age… Naoya had efficiently gained an incorruptible status of privilege, one that he used to his advantage on many, many occasions.

Naoaki himself, being a victim of his countless perversions. 

And yet, even after the things he got through endure by the hand of his young brother, as well as the neglect of his father and the animosity of his family, he still held on to that last ray of hope. The light at the end of the tunnel.

The fine that still promised him a spot besides him.

After all, his father hadn’t raised him to be someone to give up easily when things got difficult.

Naoaki attempted to rationalize his failing attempt by believing that his timing was the culprit behind his reaction, had he realized that that wasn’t the perfect moment to bring light onto the matter, then maybe that situation wouldn’t have escalated the way it did (nor lead him to discover the dark nature of his youngest brother)

He just had to be careful, keep a close eye on his schedule and approach him when the time was right: on the day Naobito didn’t have meetings or calls, no arguments with any of the members of staff, or small incidents caused by the last that could’ve ignited his fury.

He still had a chance—he just had to prove to his father that he was worthy of…well, if not being his successor, at least his follower.

He’d beg to be graced by his eyes just one more time, if it was necessary.

Coming to realize that the perfect moment was finally at hand, Naoaki decided to attack.

But there is one thing that many of the members of the Zen’in household took caution to consider when approaching Naobito—and that is, his inflexibility to budge when it came to changing his mind. 

One he’s set his eyes on something, there’s no convincing him otherwise. Those who dared defy him, and lived to tell the tale, would directly suffer the full weight of the consequences, all with the intention to leave a clear message behind: do not ever question my resolution.

Perhaps his eldest son hoped that he would soften up for the boy he’d spent so much time with, the boy he raised because at one point…he saw him as his pride and joy.

A foolish realization that would lead Naoaki to eternally regret ever thinking he could change his father’s heart; especially so when Naobito realized that, if Naoaki didn’t have the capabilities to learn for himself, then maybe… his younger brother’s would do the trick.

“F-Father, no!” Naoaki cried as he rushed behind his father as soon as reality hit him like a cold splash of water.

Of all options to choose from, of all scenarios to imagine, the worst one was to happen.

Because why not? Naoaki had hit rock bottom, and the only direction to go from here was up.

Something that Naobito intended to exploit through his wicked methods.

From the very moment Naoaki was given the impression that Naobito was to do something terrible , he tried as hard as he could to stop his father from walking away from him by pulling him by the sleeves of his yukata, or by attempting to keep up at his pace, but no child could compare to the determination of an infuriated man, or the speed of a jujutsu sorcerer with completed training and many years of combat experience under his belt.

“Father! Stop! Where—where are you going?!” Naoaki’s desperation breaks his voice as he sees his father entering one of the chambers he knows his brother’s are staying in, the one place Naoaki thought they would always be protected from their father’s harsh character.

But there was no such thing as limits for their father, and Naobito knew just how to hurt Naoaki into comprehension.

The children turned white at the sight of their riled father slamming the door open and entering their room, but it wasn’t until he made a beeline for the youngest, Naofumi, that their stomach dropped.

The young, unsuspecting and feeble boy cried upon feeling a harsh tug on his collar, leading him to getting choked on the process. 

Naofumi attempts to cry out for help, but he’s unable to much besides gurgle and wiggle on his grasp, attempting to get out of the horrifying strength that seems to hold him in place as he’s guided him onto an area he’s never been allowed to attend before: the training grounds.

“Wait!” Naoaki cries once more as he continues to run behind his father, stretching out his arms as to pluck his innocent brother from the kidnapping monster that seemed unrelenting on his newfound motive.

Naofumi’s cries began to resonate inside his head, to the point it was the only thing he could hear, not even the murmurs of watching bystanders were enough to snap him out of his trance.

“Father, stop!” The eldest feels his throat go hoarse upon releasing another yell that effectively portrayed how his heart was breaking into pieces for the imminent future.

Naobito seems to react ever so lightly to his son’s demands by stopping for a few seconds, perhaps thinking that he's had enough and would set Naofumi free soon after—but reality was to slap him across the face once more after the dark realization that he only stop to catch the attention of nearby kukuru members, and order them to empty the training facilities for his personal usage, sinks in.

His horror grows even bigger upon hearing him request for a whip .

Naoaki feels himself go cold at the prospect of what is about to happen, and wastes no second to throw himself against his father, using all of the strength he could muster that moment to stop the upcoming madness.

“Stop!” Naoaki sobs  “You’re being unreasonable!!”

“Unreasonable?! ME?!” Naobito finally decides to snap once he tosses Naofumi onto the nearby sandy terrain located in the middle of the training grounds. 

Careless to the loud sound that came from the young boy’s body landing against the ground, further uninterested in checking if he was alright. Not even his whimpers, which echoed across the halls, are able to evoke sympathy from him, or anyone else’s for that matter.

And why would they?

He was going to do something much worse anyways.

“Had you know your place, boy then maybe I would’ve never gotten to these extremes”

The previous member of the kukuru returns and hands him the much feared whip that was now obviously, and cruelly, to be used against Naofumi. 

The latter sees this and the voice inside his head tells him to run, to run as fast as he could and get out of this place as soon as possible.

But the fear set upon him by Naobito is one that has him freezing on the spot, and as much as he desires to disappear… all he is able to muster are heartbreaking sobs as he begs for his deceased mother to come help him.

“But he has nothing to do with this!” Naoaki yells back, tightening his grasp over his father, that is, until Naobito sharply elbows him on the stomach, straight into the area that has him releasing all the air out of his lungs, and thus weakening him enough to fall onto the ground.

This gives Naobito the seconds he needs to circle back to Naofumi, who upon noticing the tall shadow of his father hovering over him, cowers as a response.

But as immobilized as he managed to make Naoaki, it wasn’t enough to cease all efforts of defending his sibling.

If anything, it fuels him to go beyond his limits and act .

“Leave—Leave him alone!” is all that he manages to wheeze as he attempts to pull himself back up.

“Let this be a lesson, Naoaki” Naobito states darkly as he grasps Naofumi’s collar and swiftly turns him around, an action that has the young boy falling on his hands and knees, a position that allows their father to see first hand the consequences of his tyrant behavior on the clothes of his son: out of pure shock, Naofumi was unable to control his bodily reactions, causing him to stain his hakama pants.

Naobito is, if anything, disgusted; evident by the way his eyes twitch and his lips pursed into disapproving ones. 

Nonetheless, the humiliating image of his soiled son isn’t enough to falter him into consideration, and as he continues to roll his sleeves all the way up to his elbows while getting a better grip of the handle, it is clear that this only made his impulses stronger .

The father slowly begins to lift his right arm in hopes of gaining momentum as he recounts the details of his decision; There was a reason as to why he purposely took out his ire on his sons, and above all, why he chose Naofumi out of the bunch to be on the receiving end.

He was weak. Weaker than the rest from the very moment he was born.

He constantly required special care throughout his childhood just because his wife couldn’t deliver him when the time was right. 

Naobito didn’t even bother to name him once he was acquainted with this fact, since he didn’t want to deal with the blemish his association with him would bring.

Nonetheless, he still took pleasure in knowing that his wife had been indoctrinated enough to continue naming their children after him.

But other than that, he desired to be severed from this innocent boy’s life; not even when his condition began to improve did he change his mind. To him, he was a broken tool , and he had no use for tools that never filled their purpose to begin with.

He never bothered to bat an eye at him whenever he would walk by alongside his mother, or nurses when the time came. If anything, to keep him out of his sight, he would order them to have him secluded into a nearby chamber, so he could avoid himself the embarrassment of being related with him.

Naofumi only came to use when he decided it was necessary to jolt Naoaki into his own awareness, which he was about to do now .

With a body as weak as his, he knew that whatever he enacted onto it, held the possibility of becoming permanent . The perfect way to constantly remind Naoaki of his transgression.

It was beyond cruel; unnecessary— Naoaki never thought that a man so cruel could be his father. Their father.

He’d seen his evil side, but never to this extent. Just how much did he overlook his father, due to being blinded by his previous admiration?

One look at his brother’s snot-filled face and frightened eyes was enough to conclude that this man was not one deserving of that title and that he no longer desired to be associated with him. 

He finds himself even disgusted that he ever sought out  his approval.

He then sees his arm lower down, and he doesn’t think twice to do what he does next.

Naoaki jumps between his father and brother before he could even land the first hit—swiftly holding Naofumi tight against his chest, as if trying to keep him away from everything outside of his embrace, from the rays of sun, to the the chilling breeze that made way through their spines

The boys’ held their eyes tightly shut as the oldest received the first impact. Naoaki first hisses and then releases an agonizing yell upon feeling the hot and sharp strike of the leather whip land just beside his left shoulder blade. A reaction that has Naofumi further crying into his brother’s chest.

Meanwhile, Naobito took little to no care if Naoaki had decided to swap out places with his intended victim; his ire was too big to brush off now, and it demanded someone to take it all out on if he ever wanted this sensation to settle. If anything, maybe setting the punishment on Naoaki himself would help him understand just how foolishly he behaved all this time.

His arm gains impulse once more and continues to attack his son, merciless and without a moment to breath, until the back of his yukata becomes ripped and marked with bright red splotches of blood that only grew each time he hit him, wounds representing both the physical and emotional blemishes Naobito implanted on both his sons. 

He persists on until his clothes are completely torn apart, further revealing the marks that will turn in scars soon enough if left unattended. An image Naobito deems satisfying and incites him to refuse him any medical aid just to further sink the lesson on his mind, but unnecessary for he knows he's already obtained what he wanted.

It isn’t until Naoaki subtle prayers to all the gods he can recall, that he decides to finally stop.

There’s nothing to be heard outside Naofumi’s sniffles and whimpers, and Naoaki hisses whenever he attempts to move when everything goes silent.

Naobito turns a blind eye to their reaction as he observes the piece of work he’s created with his own offspring, a sight he considered all too familiar and appropriate for an unruly Zen’in member. He takes a deep breath and tosses the whip away, the sound of the weapon falling onto the ground is one that has the kids discreetly releasing a sigh of relief.

They were safe—at least for now.

“It could’ve ended differently, son” Naobito dares to kick the dead horse once more “Although I guess it doesn’t hurt much to tell you now”

Naoaki clenches his jaw as he turns around, with great herculean effort, to face his father.

The sight of his angered son is one that makes him smile, but for all the wrong reasons.

«Oh, how I’ll enjoy giving you the last blow»

“I never wanted you to begin with”

Naoaki’s eyes widened.

“Since the moment I wasn’t set to become the next clan leader, I knew you were a failure. But that doesn’t matter anymore, now that Naoya is here… your failures don’t matter anymore. Still, I can't help but think that maybe I had miscalculated that you would eventually come to understand that” he frowns “Let this be a warning, Naoaki—if you dare defy my authority once more, you won’t be there to protect your brother’s anymore”

The man exits through the same door he entered through and the kukuru members make haste to rush back into the training grounds. Although it is easily recognized that both sons had now fallen out of grace from their father, they still found it in themselves to help them stand up and get them the medical help they so desperately needed —after all, had Naobito wanted them dead… he would’ve seen the end of it.

They were led to a nearby chamber after one of the servants, who had been nearby enough to witness everything unfold, called a nurse to tend them per their request.

Once inside, another servant attempts to pull Naofumi away from his brother and finally change his clothes as well as see if he’d pertain any injuries of his own, but the young child, that had remained impossibly close to his older brother throughout this whole time, denies their efforts by grasping onto Naoaki even tighter, burying his face further into his chest.

“No! I want to stay with him!” he declares through muffled sobs.

Naoaki recognizes it as a response to the newfound fear his father had gifted him with.

No child should have a boogeyman for a father. And even then, he thinks the title is too soft on him to accurately describe him.

Naobito is scarier than the monster under the bed, or the one hidden in the closet—he is very real, and the pain that he can instill in others was not one to take on lightly.

Naofumi now had to live with the fear that his father might be looking around, waiting for the moment he’ll lower his guard and attack him—just to give him another sample of today’s actions.

A fear no child should have to learn with, but now, he must.

“Go…” Naoaki says—no, pleads as his palm reaches for the top of his head, gently ruffling his soft locks of hair, hoping his gesture will be one to remind him that he is still loved. “I’ll be around, I promise. Go with your brothers”

It takes a few additional pursuits before Naofumi eventually relents his hold on Naoaki’s chest and allows the servants to tend him—thankfully, he doesn't seem to have any other type of injury outside a few scratches here and there on both his hands and knees, wounds that after a quick bath alongside some organic ointment, would disappear in no time.

Naoaki’s damage, however, was one very evident to the eye. If not given the required attention, it would turn into a permanent scar—the ghost of his mistakes to haunt him for the rest of his life.

The younger Zen’in sibling is sent away to his chambers, to be with the company of his brothers as the servants run him a warm bath. Naoaki silently watches him leave, tracing his every moment until both his figure and footsteps were out of earshot; and once he’s able to deem his safe, his gaze drags along his surroundings as if to reassure his own protection.

Just as he’s to finish his recon, his eyes stop at the frame of a nearby door, realizing that the shadow in the corner of his eyes always pertained to an extra onlooker, one that had seen this… demonstration with great interest, completely different from those that simply carried on with their duties through ignorance, attempting to act as if a child wasn’t being assaulted right before them.

No.

This spectator was adamant in getting every little detail imprinted in his mind for his morbid curiosity; from its distressing beginning to its somber closure, he just knew he had to be there.

Someone…Naoaki really wished to be anyone else, anyone else but his youngest brother, Naoya—who kept looking at him with nothing but a vicious grin.

From that point forward, Naoaki had turned to be nothing more than a shadow of Naobito’s past successes, removing himself completely from his father’s life, and with him, the hopes and dreams he had of a normal life alongside him.

He soon limited himself to simply observing life pass by from the sidelines; quietly admiring how Naoya’s life turned into the one that was once promised to him —with his achievements, and his recognition…. the privilege and power he carried and used to fold those around him to his will…

It became obvious that this was Naoya’s world, and he was simply living in it.

When it came time for Hisaji to pass away, his father was finally elected to become the next clan leader; elders making sure to recognize that he was able to obtain this title thanks to Naoya’s talent—a word that Naoaki knew had no other purpose to berate him for being yet another stain to their prestigious background.

He was also there when the twins Mai and Maki were born, and the moment Naoya became elected as the next heir thanks to this defining factor.

The firstborn of Naobito tried his hardest to detach himself from these never ending pains, act as if their words meant nothing to him—enter one ear and exit through the other—and solely focus on training (because even after the higher ups and fellow relatives constantly compared him to Naoya, they could still admit he was worthy enough to make a sorcerer)

It wouldn’t take long before his neutrality for Naoya would start to shift into resentment—not even the walls he’d constructed around his heart, to protect whatever sanity he had left and ensure his survival inside the Zen’in estate, could impress him otherwise.

Naoya was ungrateful, undeserving of all the blessings and opportunities he was awarded with—even being no different for the ones he actively sought out, just giving him and his brothers another demonstration of how rotten he was to the core.

A fact that he’ll have to deal with for the rest of his purposeless life.

But then, you came into his life.

When word traveled that he was to marry, everyone was…confused—sure, it was tradition in a way, but since Naoya acted so much like his father during his youthful days (if not worse): a carefree philanderer but still a responsible and successful sorcerer, that they thought their customs wouldn’t matter to him.

Yet… his upbringing couldn’t be further away from Naobito’s.

In other words, he didn’t really need to settle down, or consider having children, at all , since the title of future leader of the clan was already written to be his. Thus, everyone came to the preconceived conclusion that he was to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life, that is, until it was required of him to make a will.

But when they heard that it was out of his own volition, they were honestly… shocked —Naoaki included.

Even if Naoya was a highly respected figure inside the hierarchy of the family, many kept their distance thanks to the character he cultivated through the years. He was intolerable, blunt , often disregarded others he considered weaker than him, and let’s not forget that he wasn’t very respectful with women.

Surely, his future wife didn’t choose to marry him for those reasons, further pushing his relatives' curiosity:

What was so special about you, compared to the other women he’s taken before, that manage to captivate his full attention, and even get him to marry you? Of all things!

The most common rumor was that you were a type of gold digger , for there was no way you could tolerate Naoya’s nasty behavior without getting something in return—thanks to the modern times and the feminist's implacability to tackle society’s outdated ethics, much to the Zen’in men’s displeasure. 

But if that were the case, the Naoya would’ve noticed by now, and promptly discarded you—for the thing he disliked the most, was having to deal with a high maintenance woman (or one that gave him the impression that she was in control of the money, and not the other way around; in his own words: she has to earn her gifts, not expect them)

The other was that you were completely blinded to his true nature, if that was even possible, and agreed to marry him without second thought. Oh, that was an undoing many couldn’t wait to see.

And lastly… you were forced to marry him. Which turned out to be the truth out of the 3 theories—however, Naoya had to put in the work just to get your father to agree to his conditions, so this arrangement turned out to not be as easy as a man of his privilege initially expected, with some of his relatives even mocking him for having to beg for your hand. Nonetheless, his repeated efforts also left his family with the notion that he… well, truly desired you.

Further igniting the vain assumptions everyone had of you.

When you finally arrived at the estate, Naoaki expected all sorts of things from you. More precisely… the negative ones, since there was already a preconceived notion that you were a hard woman to convince, believing yourself to be too good for the prestigious Zen’in clan, only to accept this union when you were demonstrated with the endless amount of riches and property they held. 

As well as climbing the ranks of the Zen’in clan in a spectacular fashion many women could only dream of—and seemingly without courtship.

It wouldn’t take long before your greed would start to show, and behave like the ones around you, if only subtler for you were still a woman.

But… you didn’t.

In fact, he thinks you weren’t even given the opportunity to explore your role in this house before Naoya’s intentions became evident.

He never cared to treat you as his wife, nor intended to. You weren’t worthy of his respect, of the title of the future lady of the house .

No. To him and the many men of this family, you were nothing but a piece of meat for them to ogle and torture as much as their heart desired. 

Not even your worth as a woman coming from an impressive background of strong sorcerers was able to make them reconsider that maybe… you weren’t his enemy.

You began to remind him of his mother in one way or another, and how you were set to replicate her destiny—with a slight detour thanks to your sickness.

With the way you behaved around Naoya, he was promptly reminded of his regretful inaction to protect his own mother once it became apparent that his father behaved in a less than desirable way to her.

If this was an arranged marriage, just as it was common inside the jujutsu community, then he wouldn’t be as surprised as he was at that moment. Perhaps the two of you didn’t get to know each other first, leading to many unpleasant surprises as you began to live with him.

But that wasn’t the case.

Naoya… wanted this marriage. And outside of political influence as well.

In fact, he even dared to say that he desired you, above any other candidate! Going as far as mobilizing everything under his power to get your family to agree to his conditions.

And this is how he treated you?

To say this infuriated Naoaki was an understatement, and it would take long before you began to turn into those you’ve hated, just as he’d seen in his aunt Junko.

And yet… you managed to keep your distinctive kindness that was impossible to ignore, specifically to those closest to you, such as your staff, the twins, their mother… and now, him.

Even after Naoya’s, his father’s and even Junko’s continuous attempts to break you down—you still held strong.

Something that he began to feel… absorbed by.

But judging by the way you heavily blamed yourself from the seeming mistreatment you gave Mai and Maki… Naoaki knew that they were starting to corrupt you.

And… he couldn’t ignore it.

Because he began to see himself in you.

You just wanted to be happy, please those around you. And yet… It was never enough. No matter what you did, it was always wrong.

But he would be damned if he allowed himself to stand still and see the demise of an innocent woman, who all she ever desired was to be happy, occur under his nose.

It was betraying his mother’s values—and he’s wrong her so many times when he allowed his brother’s to see the cruel reality of their surroundings, to do so again.

When Naoaki told you all of this, you didn’t know what to say; your eyes remained fixed on him, but it’s like you couldn’t see him—or more so, see the present him, for your thoughts were only on that child that had suffered so much by his own family’s twisted ways.

You stood speechless as he gave you the last of his words, because there was no adequate way to vocalize the feeling that his experience brought to you.

Instead, you let your emotions portray what you were thinking.

You felt nauseous, a sensation that began as soon as his life turned a twist for the worst, almost as if the room around you were spinning, and you were unable to do anything but go with it.

Your knees buckle for the quickest of seconds, and it doesn’t take you longer than that to find yourself stretching your arm towards a nearby pillar and leaning your weight onto it, as to prevent the gravity of his words further pulling you back to his cold reality, and eventually accommodating your body at the edge of the engawa .

Your vision darkes soon enough, and your ears start to ring—the pain you felt settling on your chest throughout this whole exchange finally takes form of a constricting embrace, one that has your heart thundering against your ribs and squeezing the air out of your lungs just as your heart begins calls out to Naoaki’s pain.

«How…? How could someone so disgusting as Naobito even exist?»

You question as you begin breathing roughly, against Mariya’s advice on regulating your breathing after a stressful encounter, and effectively gaining Naoaki’s concern.

“Y/N” He leans closer to you, voice low but articulate enough for you to react, as he proceeds to hold you gently by the arms, intending to prevent you from fainting, or so he believed you were about to do any moment now “Y/N—are you ok?”

“I—I need to go to my room” you eventually admit through ragged breaths. “I need… I need to lay down” 

You still couldn’t process the weight of his words. 

You knew there were despicable men out there in the world, that not even their children were safe of their terrible antics. 

But it was one thing to assume that evil always had a place in everyone's heart, to hear the actual testimony coming straight from the victim’s mouth, and in such detail…

You felt like throwing up as you realize the safety you had the fortune of growing in.

Your father would rather cut his limbs than even consider hurting any of his children.

Why was it always necessary to bring children long into the plays of adults when it came to power? Why couldn’t they just… stay in their lane and let children enjoy their life, before they’re inevitably pulled into the same darkness their older counterparts have plunged themselves to?

And even after you tried comparing his situation to yours with Hinata and the fact that she was born with the innate technique of the L/N clan… there was still no comparison.

Yes, you and your siblings were born because of the elder’s demands, but your parents were the ones that held the difference—they loved, cherished and protected each and every one of you.

Neither you, Ren or Hinata grew up with the environment of competition for one another, and even when Hinata began to be recognized as the golden child of your clan, she never took the same level of sick pride Naoya had because she wasn’t bright up in a toxic environment like Naoaki had!

Oh, and the realization that you’re legally bound to these men, to Naoya…!

It makes your blood boil— And the distressing sensation that was settling on the pit of your stomach throughout these past few minutes, finally becomes apparent by making way to your throat.

“Y/N!” Naoaki rushed to your aid as soon as he saw you lunging forward and releasing the contents of that day’s meal through a less than enticing matter. 

There was an attempt on your part from stopping the vile from escaping your lips, but being so overwhelmed by the story he’d just shared with you, you’re unable to do anything but allow your disgust by them to be shown in a physical way.

You wanted to cry, to scream, to murder Naoya and Naobito for ever being undeserving of being related to someone as innocent as the man besides you, who didn’t even think of backing away in disgust as he kept rubbing the back of your body—trying to ease your discomfort in any shape or form.

Luckily, your action didn’t last as long as you initially suspected it would—for your lingering emotions for them still remained even after the fact— and once on the clear, you were able to regain your grasp on reality of what occurred to you, and the embarrassment this made you feel upon realizing Naoaki had seen and hear it all.

“I’m—I’m so sorry” You quietly murmur as you wipe the remnants of your mouth with a nearby napkin, as well as begging to try and overcome the burning sensation lingering on your nose and throat, which only seemed to be obtainable with a much needed glass of water.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you all this without warning you beforehand…it’s not easy to progress and—Y/N!” 

“W—what is it?!” You cry back, and judging by Naoaki’s startled face, alongside all the things he’s just recounted, the first thing your imagination is able to piece together is Naobito to be standing behind you. However, his next revelation was one that would help you understand the reason behind your heightened sensitivity, as well as uncomfortability.

“You’re—You’re bleeding!”

“W—what?” You dizzily murmur as you glance down to where he was observing, only to feel your head feeling tighter upon seeing that the concept you’ve been toying around with just to get you out of undesirable predicaments, was finally there.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, your period made itself apparent through the bright blotch of blood on the skirt of your kimono.

This statement causes you to further dive into the ocean of embarrassment you were already drowning in, as you tearfully look back to Naoaki.

You wished to tell him that this wasn’t intentional, that you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable; but where your words failed, your body spoke volumes, and the look the desperation and remorse in your eyes was more than enough for him to understand this wasn’t a situation you weren’t happy about (he couldn’t imagine anyone would like to be bleeding) and prompts him to action.

“I’ll get you staff—wait here!”

“Naoaki, I’m sorry—“

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it” he still manages to reassure you with a pat on the head as he begins to rush for your staff “Wait for me, I’ll be back before you know it”

He begins by going to the first place he believes your staff to be, if not, someone who could direct them to you.

Naoaki knows that this would be rather… a confusing encounter, to have him look out for your prime lady in wanting and for such a serious matter when their masters rarely entertained themselves with these matters, less so personally, but he really couldn’t care less. He had to get you help first, and he’d deal with the explanations after.

And neither did Mariya care to ponder as to why a worried Naoaki, of all people, approached her and the rest of your staff once it was revealed that you were in need of help. They don’t care if your relationship with him wasn’t one that was to take flight any time soon, or ever, due to your husband’s preference. All they collectively worried about was getting you back to your room and in better health.

Once at your presence, your ladies make haste to carefully move you back to your chambers (denying Naoaki’s own request of helping them) and get you out of your soiled clothes and into new ones. A moment that allowed them to identify that you indeed, received your blood. Something that they were required to record for the doctor’s future use, but they’ll deal with those menial details later.

For now, Mariya’s sole concern was helping you alleviate those nasty cramps that had returned to haunt you the same way they did so previously, if not worse, thanks to the stressful environment you previously found yourself at (and by Naoaki’s fault, so much she assumed) by preparing you a hot compress and tea she knew would help—or mostly, for your case was one many thought exceptional.

But as much as you were affected by this monthly pain, and thankful that you were in their capable hands to go through this difficult change, all you could think of is reaching out to Naoaki.

There were so many things you wanted to discuss with him; so many things you wanted to clarify, Starting with apologizing for the awful way you treated him.

Had you known his past, you would’ve reconsidered snapping out on him the way you’ve done. He’s gone through so much and from very early on, the last thing he needed was you becoming another burden to his emotional distress.

As well for the way you forced him to reveal something he was perhaps not ready to disclose. There was no denying that your reaction after his revelation was one that he could take as overreacting, and thus a joke to his sentiments. 

You wished to tell him that you didn’t mean it that way, that your sickles had confidentially gotten in the way, but you didn’t mean any of it. Neither to judge him, to compare him to the monsters of his family—none of it.

And yet, the question you felt that would keep you most up at night, the one that began to form on the back of your mind as soon as you thought it to be the most relatable to your current predicament was…

If you ever had a child with Naoya, was this the fate that awaited them? 

If you somehow failed to beget a child strong enough to fit his demands, would he force you to keep on having children against your will, discard all of them as if they were nothing but broken toys, until one of them is born just how he wants, if they ever got to exist…?

Your survival consisted in that result, which leads you to question…

Would you be capable of bringing an innocent child to this world, just to avoid your execution?

And as your ladies overwhelmed your vision and ears with their worries and concerns, reminding you that you are to stay in bed until you improve both mentally and physically, all you could think of is your newfound determination to keep another victim away from the cruel grasps of the Zen’in.

It was set then.

You would not have a child with Naoya—even if it cost you your life.

#jjk naoya #naoya zen'in #naoya zenin #naoya zenin x you #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk #jjk fic #series: first it hurts— #jjk imagines #jjk smut #jjk x you

[yourbuerokrat2]

Fic: Another day in the Continuum

Another day in the Continuum

Well, ever since Qs human for some reason beyond the Continuums care (and understanding, but none of them would ever admit that) accepted Qs strange attempts at human courtship ‘just another day in the Continuum’ got another definition. 

Now, for the human mind what was actually going on would be beyond comprehension, so what transpired would have to be translated in human terms. 

In human terms a variety of people (some with one raised eyebrow, some while eating popcorn and others only barely paying attention while mostly concentrating on paperwork they were working on) was sitting in front of a rather big screen. On that screen was what many considering a new source of entertainment. 

Q and his human had another argument and due to the connection that was between every member of the Q the Continuum might as well have been present for it as well. But since Q had made it rather clear that he wanted none of them even near the Enterprise let alone his oh so precious ‘capitaine’ (and if anyone did anyway than Q would take the freedom to constantly interrupt them during their work/missions and interactions with other beings for the next hundreds of years), it would all have to be observed from a distance. 

They all, however, were still quite aware of Qs thoughts and emotions just as they were all aware of every other Qs thought and emotions. 

Right now, for instance, Q was feeling ... guilt. A rather foreign emotion to any Q, which is why some of them got interested in what was currently happening in the first place. Others were only paying attention because they themselves have tried to show Q the errors of what he was doing rather unsuccessfully for millenia at least and they were curious as to how some organic was able to do it seconds. 

Apparently as was quickly communicated through the link, another space ship of Starfleet had encountered one of Qs little pet civilizations that the chaotic entity still liked to visit from time to time. 

And not only were there statues of Q in his human form but there were also statues of Captain Jean-Luc Picard as well. Despite having just gotten the hang of space travel, which allowed them to meet the Starfleet ship, they immediatly thought that the human captain was a god just like Q. And when an away team had been allowed on the planet, they documented what they had found and heard about in detail. 

Q did so like to talk about his Favorite. A fact, that the Continuum was much to the overall annoyance of everyone very much familiar with. And when Q had the willing audience of a few worshippers who interpreted Picards and Qs relationship in a way that they have not yet reached but Q wished for, who was Q to correct them? And if they were rather enthusiastic about offering to make these statues in hopes of gaining favour with the godlike entity that deigned to visit them from time to time, well. Q has plenty of images of Jean-Luc Picard lying around the Continuum so to speak. 

When Command informed Qs human of the first contact and the culture if noting to say about the statues of their new found allies who were continously asking to meet their gods spouse in hopes of personally showing him their art and dedication, Jean-Luc Picard was... less than pleased. 

Especially since Command has voiced both their surprise and their disappointment at finding out about the new status about Picards and the entities relationship through this and not by Picard doing the proper paperwork an engagement such as this would usually require. An admiral also brought up that he should be aware that now there were rumors circulating that Picard got influenced by the entity and now seemingly breaks the Prime Directive in his spare time. A rumor, the Admiral reassured him with a slight smile as if not being able to hide that he thought the entire situation just ridiculously funny, that would only be believed by those who had never met Picard or anyone who ever served with him. 

From what everyone had felt, Q had been.. hesitant to come unto the Enterprise when Picard had called for him. But he had arrived anyway.

What Q and by proxy the Continuum had been met with was one of the Captains speeches. About the Prime Directive, the inappropriatness of the statues and Q going around the universe talking about Starfleet and the Federation to civiliations that were clearly not ready to know about them.

(”Oh please, mon capitaine. As if I would care enough to talk about your little boyscout organization.The only thing I talk about is you.” A comment from Q that had the wanted effect of Picard going still for a few seconds and having the rather strange human reaction of getting slightly red in his face, from anger or embarrassement the Continuum didn’t care enough to find out) 

Ever a man who liked to hear himself talk, in the Continuums opinion just as they were about the opinion that this was something the human had in common with Q, Picard continued with his speech shortly after. Talking about his discomfort at Q going around and insinuating that their relationship was...much closer than it currently was. (”We have barely been... together for more  than a year, Q, and you go around and tell people we are married and I have to find about all if this from another officer I have never met before and my superiors.”)

Oh, the human was angry. Although there were a lot more emotions in his voice, that the Qs didn’t understand but apparently Q did considering the entity was ever so carefully trying to get closer to the human. 

“I didn’t tell them anything. I just told them about you and me and they simply came to their own conclusions.”

“Well, from everything I have heard more than a few people have come to their own conclusions about us once they have heard what happened.”

Q, trying to defuse this situation a bit obviously, only waved his hand a bit and with an overexaggered expressions said. “Please, as if there is any reason to carenwhat some ...”

But Q stopped talking as he saw Picard with a slightly defeated sigh, sit in his chair. 

This whole ordeal has just been rather humiliating and he hopes that Q understands. 

Now even those who had mainly been focusing on their ‘paperwork’ were looking up. Because every other Q had felt it. Q was hurt and Q thought that Picard felt humiliated by their relationship now being  very much public. 

And Qs internal debate about wether he should just leave now or what he should say now was rather entertaining for the rest. 

A few Qs tried to make their own suggestions and communicated them to Q, but Q, like always these days, only ignored them. 

Luckily enough for the enitity, his face must have betrayed him, since Picard only said, that no, he was not humiliated by everyone knowing Q was his... partner. But he was feeling rather humiliated by the way it became public.

“Really, Q? You let them make statues of me and you didn’t think for one moment that I wouldn’t be comfortable with it?”

A surge of second hand relief and happiness at the knowledge that Picard was not going to break up with him but that this was only another one of their disagreements could be felt from Q throughout the link. 

Q leaned across the table, getting rather close to the human who was now paying him his full attention. With a smile that Q was hoping would win Picard over, Q only told him that Q had only felt it right that Picard got worshipped.

Picard in return only called Q ridiculous, which the Continuum agreed with. 

When Q was starting to kiss his human, most of the Qs went away to distract themselves from what would undoubtedly soon follow. 

#qcard

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

For Solstaire and Lunara, Solstaire would be friendly. Help them get comfortable by the time Lunara investigates. And then concinve him to let Clipsy and Peanut stay. Solstaire would show the two to his little workshop, where he plays around with scraps he finds amongst the ruins of the planet. Lunara is going to try to teach Peanut the fun of breaking things (and people). They can teach Lunara and Solsraire more about healthy family dynamics : )

For LB, whoever finds them first is dragging them to the castle. Whether that be Vim’s room or Infero’s throne depends. Peanut’s presence means convincing Infero to let them stay will be easy. He’ll let them have a guest room until he decides whether to adopt them or not. They’re allowed to have jobs around town either way, and their own house if they end up not wanting to be adopted.

Pyroclasm… Yeah, it just looks at them and hauls them home with it. Plops them in front of Piper and announces to the sewer cave that they have new siblings. Clipsey and Peanut get no time to process what’s going on before they’re adopted.

Mass Reset, everyone just assumes they had more siblings they didn’t know about. Golden’s already explained to all of them that they had their memory wiped, but didn’t bother explaining the family tree because the DCA family is honestly better like this. So Peanut and Clipsey just get “Hi, welcome home, what are your names?”

Kidclipse, the parents are defensive for about five seconds (they know there’s a lot of bad Eclipses out there), but then realize the two are running away from something. Soon, Clipsy and Peanut find themselves seated on the couch with warm cocoa, surrounded by curious kid versions of themselves and Bloodmoon.

Landing in lunaras dimension will put them REALLY on edge. It looks like a desolate wasteland so they assume that it’s some apocalypse dimension. If Solstaire isn’t careful and startles Clipsy he will get a bonk on head with a wrench. He’ll apologize when he realizes he doesn’t mean any harm, and they’ll both appreciate the help. Peanut is curious about lunara albeit a bit intimidated by him.

They’ll be wary about this lord eclipse, as they know how usual eclipses are. Clipsy would be civil but he’d be careful to stay between infero and peanut just in case. Peanut would be nervous at first but warm up after seeing Vim and how comfortable he is with him. This is just a everyday thing for infero XD choosing whether to adopt or not.

Fnskfn the moment they arrive they’re scooped up and dragged into the sewers. What a warm welcome! :) Piper will try to do damage control, knowing that this doesn’t look good to these two, reassuring them that they’re safe, and Pyroclasm isn’t violent most of the time and didn’t kidnap them maliciously. Clipsy will still be skeptical though.

They’d both be confused by the mass reset crew being so nonchalant, but Clipsy would try to explain their situation to the best of his ability. That they aren’t from here exactly but they ended up here after coming through a portal.

Peanut immediately finds it adorable to see little kiddy versions of eclipse and bloodmoon. Absolutely squeals over them, calling them so cute. Peanut is used to being around kids so he’s in his element while Clipsy is a bit more awkward. He’d be the one to take over explaining the situation, basically the same way good eclipse did canonically. So in a very weirdly nonchalant way. Apologizing for for arriving without warning.

#sams au #trapped forever au #crossover stuff #good tf eclipse

[imasimpforshanks]

hiii, how are you? may i ask angst alphabet for Ace? thank you ❤️

Angst Alphabet - Portgas D. Ace

a/n: hi hi!! here you go! OMG angst is still really hard LOL I don’t want to think about their rough life 😔😔😔😔😔 ANYWHOOOOO thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy<3

warnings: on the letter S there is mention of self harm

A-Accident (would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?)

Ace would definitely blame himself. He’s always thought he was a no-good demon child, son of a criminal that didn’t deserve to be alive (despite finding people that truly cared and loved him). You dying in an accident and him not being able to do anything about it would just reinforce what he already thinks of himself.

Regardless of your cause of death he is likely to attribute it to your association with himself, and because of that he will think it is entirely his fault, even if he wasn’t present at the time of your death.

B-Break up (How would they break up with you?)

His lessons with Makino really helped him develop manners and just a general sense of acceptable behaviour. So, Ace would just be clear and up front, no mixed messages, no miscommunication. He would take you some place quiet and away from others, and then he would be as honest and vulnerable as possible – it’s the least you deserve. The break-up would be very civil, you would definitely end on good terms (doesn’t make it any less sad though).

C-Crying (how would they make you cry?)

Sometimes Ace can take his teasing a little too far. Usually you can handle it, but there are just some days where his words cut deeper than ever intended (even if they have no malice behind them). It’s not his fault you’re having a bad day, or not realizing you are having a bad day. It’s just one of those things that happens sometimes. As soon as you start to cry though, he apologizes and reassures you so much, to make sure you known he doesn’t mean it and he’s only playing around.

D-Death (how would they react to your death?)

It would start out with a lot of confusion, like “what t-that must be some kind of a sick joke. H-how… w-what… they wouldn’t just die like that.” After it really sinks in that you have in fact died, Ace will just get angry. I don’t see him as much of a crier (spoiler alert – we only see him truly allow himself to cry on two occasions 1) when luffy got crazy hurt as a child and 2) when ace was on deaths door), so I believe he would react with anger.

Regardless of your cause of death (natural causes, accident, died in battle etc.) Ace would be unbelievably angry with himself, the world and you. He would be angry at himself for being unable to save you, someone he cares about and loves deeply. He would be angry at the world and whatever higher being there may be for choosing now to be your time. There are so many horrible, horrible people in the world, yet you had to die? It makes no sense. Lastly, he would be angry at you. Not a genuine anger but more so a “how could you just leave me like this? We were meant to be together forever.”

E-Emotion (what is one emotion they would try to hide the most and how would they do it?)

I think Ace tends to try his sadness. He tries to put on a brave face, not wanting anyone to see him cry as he doesn’t want to be viewed as weak or be even more of a burden on others.

F-Fight (how often do you fight? What do you fight about? Do you fight often? Etc.)

Fights with Ace, although they don’t happen often, can quickly get out of hand. He’s stubborn and his inability to accept that he’s not always right can cause a minor disagreement to escalate into an all-out fight. On a few occasions you have argued about him never turning his back on an opponent.

Your fights tend to be followed by cooldown time. Things can get quite heated (no pun intended) so you need some alone time and space to breathe. After that though, you comeback together and apologize.

G-Guilt (what is the biggest thing they feel guilty about?)

For his entire life, Ace has lived with the guilt of simply existing. He doesn’t think himself worthy of being alive. Can you blame him? It’s all anyone ever told him growing up. Despite eventually finding people who loved him for him, those feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness still remain and continue to plague his mind.

H-Heartbreak (what would cause them pain in the relationship? How would they deal during a break-up?)

During a break-up Ace is quiet. He doesn’t want to be around anyone or anything. He wants to be left completely alone so he can sort out his thoughts and feelings. He’d be quite devasted because he’s had so few people in his life love him on as deep a level as you did.

I-Injured (how would they react if you are badly injured?)

Ace would absolutely lose it if you were injured. He’d be concerned, upset, and angry all at once. First things first, he needs to know if you are going to be ok. Once that’s been established, he’ll be upset at himself for allowing this to happen. This will be replaced by the pure anger he feels at whoever, or whatever, caused this.

J-Jealousy (what do they do if they are jealous?)

When he gets jealous he turns into such a man child. He’s pouting and moping around while mumbling to himself. He develops quite a petty attitude. If you were to ask him “want to go get something to eat?” he’d respond with “why don’t you just go and ask ____ for some food.” But, as soon as you begin commenting on how jealous he’s acting he’s going to deny it to the end of his days.

K-Kill (would they kill for revenge?)

Ace literally hunted down Blackbeard so he could get revenge on him for killing Thatch. It’s not certain whether or not Ace had the intention of killing Blackbeard, however, he definitely had both the spirit and anger to go through with killing him. So, it is possible that Ace would kill for revenge. However, for the most part, he would prefer to just beat them senseless.

L-Loss (what is their greatest loss?)

Either Sabo or his mother’s death, would be considered Ace’s greatest loss. His mother died when he was a new-born, so he doesn’t particularly remember, or know, anything about her other than the fact that she was a kind wonderful woman. However, the loss of Sabo is something he remembers vividly. Losing Sabo had a major impact on Ace. It was an unfortunate wake up call as to how awful the world truly is.

M-Mistake (what is the worst mistake they ever made with you?)

One night, after a particularly bad day filled with a horrible series of events, Ace was letting off some steam (quite literally I suppose). Messing with his devil fruit power, throwing some flames around. He hadn’t noticed your presence and so his flames nearly burnt you. He was horrified, and he only felt worse after he noticed the pure terror in your eyes.

N-Nightmares (how often do they have them? What are they about? How do they deal with it?

Ace has nightmares frequently, they vary, but they all have the same underlying theme, that is, the people in his life don’t actually care about him and only view him the same way everyone else views the son of the pirate kind – a worthless devil with no right to life. He wakes up from his dreams in a sweat and finds himself in desperate need of fresh air (ya know to try and clear his mind). He ends up just sitting out on the deck of the Moby Dick looking up at the sky trying to tell himself it was all a dream. But his insecurity and self-doubt begin to resurface and soon he can’t discern imagination from reality. However, the moment someone else on the crew even speaks to Ace with something as simple as a “morning dude” he’s brought back down to earth and thinks to himself “no that’s right…. They love me… I wouldn’t be here right now if they didn’t.”

It’s a vicious cycle, but in the end, he manages to remember (even if it’s just for a little bit) that he is cherished.

O-Outrage (how and why would they get mad at you?)

When you continuously tell him there’s no need to stay and fight every single opponent. It’s okay to turn and runaway – in fact it’s safer to do that. When you say that he feels as though you don’t understand him. He’s not some careless, impulsive child who’s just looking for a fight (okay maybe he is a little bit). So he doesn’t really get super angry, it’s more so that he is frustrated and a little upset that you don’t try to see it from his perspective.

P-Past (what has happened in your relationship that changed the way you saw each other?)

It’s the same as the worst mistake he’s ever made with you – nearly burning you with his devil fruit. It made you realize that Ace can actually be quite dangerous (although you know he would NEVER hurt you intentionally). It made Ace realize that he needs to be more careful, the look of pure terror in your eyes has stayed with him ever since that incident, serving as a reminder.

Q-Quality (what is their most dangerous/toxic quality?)

His tendency to not back down from a fight is simultaneously his most endearing and toxic trait. He constantly places himself in dangerous situations with minimal concern for his own safety.

R-Rejection (how would they react to you rejecting their confession (or the other way around))

Having his confession rejected by you was definitely a blow to his self-esteem, but he respected and accepted your feelings. Instead of moping around about it he decides to laugh it off, trying to make light of a slightly disappointing situation.

S-Scars (battle or self-inflicted)

Ace does not have any scars, battle related or self-inflicted.

TW self-harm: I do think ace got worryingly close to self-harming, but Sabo and Luffy made him rethink it all.

T-Trust (have they ever broken your trust?)

The one and only time Ace broke your trust was after Blackbeards betrayal. You made him promise to take you with him when he left to hunt down Blackbeard because you didn’t want him to go alone. He promised but he had no intention of keeping that promise.

U-Urge (how badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?)

For a while Ace manages to get by by keeping himself preoccupied. But as soon as he lets up for even a minute, he realizes how much he misses you and is beyond tempted to just sail on back to wherever you are and tackle you to the ground plastering your face in lil kisses. When he’s not distracted, he really does miss you a lot. He hyper-fixates on what you could be doing at this very moment, whether or not you miss him too etc.

V-Vicious (what do they do when they lash out on you?)

When ace gets mad, he tends to get very loud. He raises his voice quite a lot and it becomes very, very frightening. He would never physically hurt you, but the anger and frustration in his voice is more than another to scare the shit out of you.

W-Weak (what makes them feel weak how do they try to avoid it?)

Constantly being reminded or associated with the Pirate King. Maybe it doesn’t make him feel weak, but it makes him feel horrible inside and stirs up a lot of feelings and remarks people would make when he was younger. Unfortunately, once word gets out there isn’t much Ace can do to stop this from happening, however, before this, Ace avoided this by not telling ANYONE. He only told Luffy and Sabo, with a very small handful of others knowing (i.e Garp).

X-X-ray (what do they hate and show it most obviously?)

He hates turning his back on a fight or turning his back on people that talk shit about those he cares about. This is seen during the Marineford arc. He doesn’t let Akainus words about Whitebeard slide. He doesn’t runaway. He has no tolerance for that shit.

Y-Yearn (what is one thing that they want but can’t have?)

Ok this may be dark as hell but, Ace just wants to not feel like a burden to the world. He wants to be viewed as something different/separate from his father, but he can’t change history.

Z-Zero (what do they do/say in your dying moments?)

He doesn’t let you go. He’ll hold on to you until he is forcefully separated from your body. He just starts to spout a lot of nonsense – things don’t make sense at all, but he can’t help it right now. He can’t think properly when you’re about to leave him. He just wants you to stay.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #portgas d ace #angst alphabet #one piece alphabet #portgas d ace x reader #fire fist ace

[mxvladdy]

THE WAY YOU FILLED YOUR FIRST REQUEST SHOOK ME?!?!?!? YOU BLESSED US!? Would you mind also imagining how Mammon, Luci and Belphie would feel with a MC who's guarded with themselves and their feelings to avoid hurt, so they try to keep these brothers at a friendly arm's length as they don't believe the brothers don't really care about them? It would make me so happy, thank you so much!

EEEEK! Sorry for the wait. It took forever and a day to get enough time to seat uninterrupted and then try to edit ;.;

I hope you like it! Apologies if I didn’t get the prompt just right!

Mammon

He didn’t hide his disdain for his human protection duty when you first met. The fact that you kept him at an arm's length was a devil’s blessing. Good! He is a busy demon after all, he doesn’t have time for some human. At first.

Then he caught the feels and it’s all downhill for him at his ‘cool devil’ act. Not that you ever NOTICED.

He tries to flirt with you. Before you, he thought he was good at it too.

He’s never had someone so civil with his advances. You smile and laugh politely at whatever complement he throws at you. You might even give him a few back in a teasing, but clearly friendly manner.

You stress it heavily whenever he comes on too heavy with his advances. You stamp down whatever feelings he evokes and try to keep your line clean and precise in the shifting sand of your relationship.

He takes you out one evening after school, determined to get an actual answer from you over some made up snack he lied about. You don’t think anything of it, happy for an excuse to hang out. You walk and talk, not taking notice of his steadily reddening face as he keeps making swipes at your hand each time it brushes his.

You make an off-handed (get it) remark about the closeness and offer to walk behind this was bothering him.

He is miffed and throws out all semblance of “coolness”. Just flat out confess. Face flaming hot from embarrassment and sweaty palms now shoved into his jacket.

It was a blink and you’d miss it kind of moment. Mammon’s cheeks start to heat gradually. A staunch look of panic growing behind his eyes.

The words just slip off his tongue. His lips forming a sentence you were dreading. You didn’t quite catch it all; his declaration lost in the wind of the open market. You try to catch his gaze, to make him repeat himself clearly, for what purpose you didn’t know. You don't particularly want to hear it again, yet it would give you time to compose some kind of response.

He refuses to look at you. No matter which way you bob and weave beneath him, he dances around you. His face always looking in the opposite direction of yours. His gaze permanently pointing at his feet. The uneven cobblestone beneath his scuffed boots was suddenly very interesting it seemed. "I'm sorry? I didn't catch that." You ask once more, grabbing on to the crook of his elbow.

He buries himself deeper into the flipped collar of his coat and whispers it again. "I-I like ya, ok? Like like like ya know?" He stumbles over his thoughts.

Now how in the hells were you supposed to dodge this? It had been easier to evade his blatant affections when even he wasn't admitting to them. "No, you don't." You step away with a dry chuckle. "Don't be silly." You back away shaking your head in denial. You were sure Mammon could feel your heart rate picking up. You need some space, more space than the street could give you. Somewhere away from your tall, sweet, white-haired problem.

"Oi!" He makes a grab for you as you turn to flee. He spins you around leaning down to meet with you face to face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We are friends Mammon," You try to wiggle out of his strong, yet gentle grip. "You're just mixing up the feelings." Bullshit. With him touching you, your joint pack acted like an amplifier. You very much felt what he thought of you. The yearning from his newfound mental clarity mixes with the panic of your rejection. It makes a bittersweet taste bloom in your mouth, so hopefully yet reserved.

He was not so lucky. Your feelings felt like ash on his tongue, a sour tang of fear and self-doubt building on his sense. You were afraid of the inevitable, or what you presumed to be the inevitable.

  You were supposed to be friends then disappear forever once the school year was up. Him, down here, and you back to being just another nameless soul in the human realm. No need to get the storyline all tangled. "Hey-hey," Mammon speaks in a rush. "It ain't like that, really." He coos shuffling you closer till you are wrapped tightly in his soft leather jacket. He pours more of himself into the pack, opening himself up in ways he never thought capable of from his demonic form.

"I'm stupid." You speak into his chest. The warm reassurance of his unspoken pledge soothing you. It lessens the tight feeling of uncertainty that you had grown accustomed to.

"Ah- now, ain't that supposed to be my job?" The taste in his mouth dissipates slightly as you let out an indignant huff. He flinches as you poke his side hard between his rib cage.

"Told you to stop talking down on yourself Mammon."

The demon hums noncommittally keeping you close. He rocks you both from side to side, oblivious to the throngs of other pedestrians forced to walk around you two. "Guess I forgot. Maybe you could remind me? O-on a date?"

He smiles down at the little sliver of your face and eyes peeking up from the darkness of his jacket. He could damn near feel the smile trying to break from your forced scowl. "Just one?"

"Heh- don't bet on it."

Lucifer

Welcome to the ultimate game of pleasantry chicken. The two of you know this dance by heart, but your footwork isn't synching up.

Lucifer is trying to keep this whole debacle as professional as possible. You are an esteemed guest and pact holder for all of his brothers and himself. This should be business as usual. He totally has his emotions and growing frustration at your lack of interest in him in check.

Yup. He's fine. He's great; glad you two have such an unspoken understanding of your standing in his company and in the house. The same book, same chapter, same bloody page.

You are a good friend. Just. A. Very. Good. Friend.

He breaks first. Not that he will admit it. But the weekly coffee breaks become a bi-daily thing as he tries to court you. He draws these evenings out now. Have you finished your schoolwork? No, allow me to tutor you. Perhaps you would like to listen to this new vinyl with me tonight? It is a complete demon rendition of Wagner's Die Meistersinger. A classic, you’ll love it.

You take it all in stride. Thanking him innocently enough and going along with it. You buffer every little turn of phrase and slightly off-color hint of what he wanted from you with grace. So tactfully done he begins to doubt himself. You couldn’t be misconstruing his intentions right? He hasn’t doubted himself like this in a long time.

Diavolo catches on quickly to the kicked puppy look Lucifer tots around in your presence. He’ll tease, but try to help. He’s a decent wingman truth be told. “How has Lucifer been treating you? I haven’t seen him this happy in ages. He is a great friend to have, yes?” Kinda backfires when you agree that he is indeed a good friend. Oops.

He’ll crack one night over a glass (or bottle) of something strong he pulled from his study. You had slipped into his room unannounced asking for a quiet place to read before bed.  The interruption to his musings leads to him running his mouth and pile driving his pride into the ground.

He can’t say no to you anymore. He really should. You were hell bent on keeping him at an arm's length, so he should too. Lucifer watches you like a hawk from behind his desk. His ungloved fingers swirling the dregs of his drink. The cognac inside of it looking up at him, his scowl reflecting in the rich red liquor. Don’t judge me. He scoffs at himself, was he that far gone that he was arguing with his glassware? Should have switched to the bottle hours ago.

“Luci?” You say again waving a hand in his face. “You forget to sleep again this week?” Your smile was warm, a little twinkle in your eye drawing a heat to his collar that had nothing to do with the spirits. You sit on the edge of his desk in your sleepwear. The baggy shirt and sweats reeked of his brothers.

“No.” He lies pushing his desk chair away. “Did you need something?”

You shrug hopping off the desk. “Not really. Wasn’t feeling movie night. You ok if I hang out here? It’s nice and quiet.” You slink off to the couch in front of the fire before he could answer.

“You could not do this in your room?” Lucifer snips. He tosses back the rest of his drink and rises to his feet. He grimaces at the burn spreading across his throat. “I’m sure it is quiet in there too.” He catches your eyes looking over the back of the lounge. While everything lower than the bridge of your nose was blocked by the black velvet he could feel the frown growing on your face.

“Well, yes. But I still want some friendly company. Just not rowdy company, I thought you wouldn’t mind...”  

Devils. There was that word again. "You assume to know me?" He cannot hide the venom lacing his words. The liquor had dulled his senses enough that he could not hide his rancor.

“I’m-” You leave the chair coming around it to give him your full attention. This wasn’t like him. Not anymore at least. But you were used to the odd mood swings that plagued your companions. "I don’t assume anything about you Luci. But if you want to talk-"

“I don’t want to have some idle friendly chit chat.” He could feel the tantrum coming. “Have I not proven myself capable of-” His jaw snaps shut with an audible click that echoes across the spacious chamber.

“Of?”

A noticeable blush grows on his pale cheeks. “More.” He sighs deeply, he feels light-headed at the admission. Whether it was from the drinks or from going against his nature and swallowing his pride he couldn’t tell. “Am I not enough to be more than a friend to you?”

That takes you by surprise. You had speculated that he harbored feelings for you. Diavolo all but cementing the idea in your mind. But, this was Lucifer. It felt like just yesterday you were at each other's throats, before he recognized you as something other than a threat to his family. You wanted to respect that little bit of trust he had given you. “It’s not like I never thought about it.”

“But?” He perks up slightly hearing the unspoken word in your inflection. He could see your apprehension yet there was a shimmer of something else underneath. Something he could work with.

“I was- I am scared.”

“Finally, a reasonable response from being around demons.” Lucifer snorts.

“Hey! You know that’s not what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.” He invades your space waiting to see what you would do. Run or stay. He would have his answer either way. You don’t move, instead, you wrap your arms around yourself. Guarding yourself yet standing firm. One of the many reasons why he admired you.

“I feel like we just became friends. I didn’t think you felt the same and I didn’t want to mess this all up.” You confess. “I just thought it would be easier this way.”

Lucifer absorbs your words quietly, nodding at the logic behind them. “Messes are not something I generally like true, but," He reaches for you, careful of your defensive stature to lead you back to the couch. “If you are willing to iron out the bumps with me I’d like to see what we can make of it.”

If it meant he could have you he would take as much time as you needed.

Belphegor

It takes him the longest to notice that you were trying to keep him at arm's length emotionally. It was hard for him to see at first since you still readily accepted his invitations to snuggle and hang out.

He thought he was very blatant with his desire for you and your affections. The head pats and evening is the planetarium or his attic.

The fact that he had apologized for that little murder mishap. He thought that was a big bright neon sign. Yet you always seemed to try to invite someone else along to chill or leave quickly after an hour or so. As much as he loved his twin and tolerated his other brothers he was trying to get you ALONE.

He starts trying to see you outside the house now too. Lunch in the cafeteria? Pffft. You are going to eat and nap with him in the courtyard. After School activities? Could you help him with some council stuff instead?

Yes, he will go out of his way to do work if you are involved.

You are still too closed off though. You act around him like you do around any of the other brothers and it drives him crazy. You are just so friendly and cordial with everyone. How come he is the only one that becomes a flushing mess now?

He becomes your second shadow, almost as bad as Mammon. You start to get an inkling of his intentions when he starts wanting to sleep in your bedroom at night instead of his or the attic. You let him but offer up the couch or split the bed with a pillow.

He snoops when he gets desperate. Did you like someone else? Was that why you were constantly acting like his advances were just him being overly friendly? He doesn’t find anything, you act like this around everyone else too.

He gives up. Stops interacting with you entirely. He is 99% sure he can sleep through the next century without being bothered. Maybe he’ll get over you by then.

“Belphie? You up here?” The demon in question opens a bleary eye to his locked door. He should stay quiet, leave you hanging. Give himself some vindictive pleasure in snubbing you.

“Hai~” He rises from his nest of blankets and pillows. “Hold on.” Unlocking the door he opens it ajar. You smile around the large stack of books and binders in your arms. “What is that?” Please don’t say homework.

“Work you’ve missed sulking up here.” You confirm his worst fear. “Satan and I thought we would spot you a bit though.” Belphegor watches you struggle for a second to pull a folded piece of paper out from the middle of the stack. “We got most of the answers done for you. Now you just have to fill the worksheets in with your handwriting.” You wave the paper expectantly.

Hearing his brother’s name makes him sour immediately. How long had you been hanging out with him now? “Thanks, leave them at the door then.” He goes to shut the door and return to his dreamless slumber but it’s blocked by your foot.

“Ouch.” You wince hopping back on one foot.

“Idiot! Are you hurt?” He wrenches the door open crouching down to take a look at your sock-covered foot.

“Nothing I can’t walk off. Though my arms are getting sore- weak human muscles an’ all.” You hint wiggling the stack in your arms. He takes the work this time, still eyeing your foot. “Relax, I’ve stubbed my toe with more force than that before.” You whisk by him, using his brief moment of distraction to slip by.

“Did I invite you in?” Belphegor eyes you with a frown. He kicks his door close and dumps the pile of papers on his already over-encumbered desk. Hmm. How many days had he missed?

You ignore him plopping down on the still warm sheets. “Nope!” You pop the ‘p’ with a grin. “But that has never stopped you from sneaking into my room. So fair trade all around.” You pat at the bed, clearing inviting him to join you. “Come on. I’ll help you finish that work then we can chill.”

Oh, now you want to hang out. He felt a rush of bitterness wash over him.  “Don’t you have something better to do?” If this keeps up he’ll need another nap, alone preferably. “Doesn’t Asmo need a shopping buddy or something?”

“What’s gotten you all worked up?” You frown, hurt by his accusatory tone.

Belphie shoots you a wounded look. "We never hang out anymore." He sulks. "Alone, I mean. I'm tired of you always inviting Beel or someone else with us."

He glances over to you idly thumbing at one of the books on his desk. It's frustrating. This game of touch and go he accidentally got himself into. Ugh- why did this have to be so hard. "I want to spend more time with you. Just us, so why are you always avoiding that?" 

"I.” You look down at your feet dangling off the side of his mattress. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I just felt like- like things were going off the rails between us.” You weren't oblivious to his advances.

He cocks his head in confusion. "Mmm? What are you afraid of?" You read a flicker in his eyes, a haunting memory of cruel fingers around your neck darken his gaze. "Ah-"

"No! No that's not it!" You panic waving your hands up. Of course, he would immediately go to that. "I'm just worried. I know you like me, and-just what if things don't work out? What if you realize what a mistake this could be?"

Your admission gives him pause. So you knew this whole time? Not surprising; he wouldn't fall for someone stupid. "So, are you admitting to liking me back?" He feels giddy when you nod, covering your heating face with your hands. " Well then, what’s the problem? It’s not a mistake if we both are making it.” He grins slyly. “How can it not work out if the feelings are mutual.”

“But what if you are mistaken?” He wraps you up into his arms, flopping you both over onto his messy bed. He takes one of your hands and places it on the top of his head all while burying his nose in your neck.

“Please,” He yawns, feeling his body grow heavy. “I don’t waste my energy on ‘mistakes’.”

#obey me fandom #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #prompts! yay

[in-slytherin-we-trust]

Another Time, Another Life (Draco Malfoy x Reader) Part 3/4

-> A ball, a revelation, and a confrontation... Will it be a happily ever after or a tragic love story that had run its course?

Click here for Part 1 and Part 2

*Y/N/N = Your nickname

“You’re positive that there is no dress code for this pretentious ball?” Y/N asked him again, her head tilted to one side, clamping the muggle phone that Harry gave her as a birthday present between one ear and her shoulder.

“Apparently so at least from the letters that they sent us, there’s no mention of any dress code. Only that we have to wear formal attire.” Harry replied, “I have no complaints though, makes it easier for us.”

Y/N groaned, “Ughh tell me about it. Even without dress code I still don’t own anything appropriate enough for a ball of this scale. Godric knows how many people the Malfoys have invited.”

She stared at her reflection on the cheval glass mirror in front of her, biting her lip in frustration, tossing yet another dress that she deemed not up to standards to the mounting pile on her bed.

“Just pick a random one, *Y/N/N. I’m sure you’d still look lovely either way.” Harry said again, she can picture him shrugging on the other side while saying this.

“Alright.. I’ll figure something out. You’ll come here by 7 right?” Her eyes drifted towards the wall clock, showing the time, 6:15 p.m.

“7 on the dot, just as how we planned. I’ll see you.” Harry said, ending the call.

“Right, see you then.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed as she looked at her now half empty wardrobe. Why am I even thinking this hard about what to wear? It’s just a ball, I wouldn’t even stay there long.

Earlier, Harry told her that he’ll be wearing a crimson tie. Should she just match him?

Y/N walked towards the other side of her flat where a small wardrobe stands, this is where she keeps all the clothes that she rarely wears for whatever reason. There’s bound to be a red dress in there somewhere, between all the crammed raiment.

A shimmer of glittering fabric caught her attention, her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes scanned the forgotten dress. She carefully grabbed it by the hanger, the dress twinkling even more as the light from the lamps hit it.

This is it, this is the dress.

The dress fits her like a glove, Y/N wondered how in the world she has never worn this beauty before. She grabbed her wand and utter a spell to do her hair into an elegant updo, leaving some loose curled tendrils hanging down to frame her face.

She finished just in time when she heard a ‘pop’ and the Boy Who Lived appears in her living room.

Harry’s mouth formed a brilliant smile as he took her appearance in. “See what I mean when I said you could wear absolutely anything? You look stunning, *Y/N/N.”

Y/N returned his grin, “Glad I got your stamp of approval, you’re looking rather dashing yourself. Shall we?”

Harry nodded as he offers her his hand to link with hers, then they apparated together to Malfoy Manor.

———————————————————————

Both Y/N and Harry cannot recognize this new version of Malfoy Manor in front of them. The sprawling mansion that used to has doom and gloom written all over it has been renovated inside out.

The large hallways are still sumptuously decorated but now brightly lit, rococo style lamps in gold and silver lined the walls, casting a warm glow.

A steward welcomed them when they entered the front door and acts as their guide, navigating the otherwise labyrinth like hallways towards the ballroom.

Finally they came upon a towering gilded door, the soft sound of classical music coming from behind it.

“Here you are, sir and madame. Please enjoy your evening.” The steward said with a low bow.

“Thank you for the assistance.” Y/N replied, giving him a gracious smile.

Harry reached a hand towards the door and push it open, the door swung easily despite how heavy it looks.

The grand ballroom is crawling with revelers wearing suits and dresses in all shades of colors. A live orchestra is playing on the very center of the room, buzz of chatter and laughter can be heard from every corner.

“Wow... they sure spared no expense.” Y/N said breathlessly.

“That is an understatement.” Harry replied, voicing his agreement.

Feeling like a fish out of water, Y/N grimaced, “What are we supposed to do while in here again?”

“Beats me, *Y/N/N. I guess we can just go straight for the food and drinks?” He said as he shoved both hands in his trouser’s pockets.

“Brilliant idea, I’m way too sober for this.”

So that’s where the two of them stayed for some duration of the ball, in the back of the room near the refreshment tables. Gobbling down their shares of grilled oysters, lobster toasts, caviar, and champagne. Minding their own business away from prying eyes.

They were in the middle of a rather interesting chat about some gentleman in a hilarious looking lemon colored suit, when they were interrupted.

“Mr. Potter and Miss Y/L/N.... what a delight it is to have you here, I’m honored that the both of you decided to accept our invitations.” Lucius Malfoy said coldly, Narcissa Malfoy in tow.

They donned themselves in all black suit and dress, looking regal yet very much intimidating as always. Regardless, Y/N can feel that something is off about them, the air of haughtiness that they used to carry themselves with now seems rather.... faux. In fact if she might say so herself, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy looked rather timorous and on guard.

“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.” Y/N answered in a noncommittal tone, masking her face into one of civility. “I really enjoyed the food, it was exquisite.”

“What she said.” Harry spoke, giving them a slight nod. Y/N had to resist the urge to smile at her friend’s behavior.

Narcissa smiled, “I’m glad you think so, I arranged it all myself. Have you had the chance to dance? We hired the orchestra all the way from Vienna.”

“No we haven’t yet, we were too busy munching the hors d'oeuvres.” Harry replied with a polite smile. After all he kinda owed his life to her.

Narcissa nodded understandingly, “Please do take yourselves for a dance or two if you’re up for it, the guests are eager to catch a glimpse of our celebrated war heroines.”

She then turned her eyes towards Y/N, “And of course it would be a waste of such beautiful dress if you stay in the shadow, Miss Y/L/N. You are a vision in red.”

Before any of them could answer again, Lucius Malfoy tugged his wife away and they continued on their rounds, playing the perfect hostess.

A rather upbeat sonata started playing, sending flocks of excited people gravitating towards the dance floor. Even Harry bobbed his head and tapped his feet along to the tune.

“Wanna go for a dance? This one seems fun.” Y/N asked, offering him an outstreched hand.

“I would love to my lady, be my guest.” Harry take hold of her hand and lead her to an empty spot on the dance floor.

Despite them not knowing what kind of dance they’re supposed to do since this tune is not exactly for ballroom dancing, they decided to just roll with it and made up the moves as they go. Swaying and taking turns in twirling each other. Laughter bubbling in her throat, feeling much more relaxed than before.

The couples around them seemed to be doing the same, no one moves in sync, but still they all managed to make quite the crowd.

“Switch it up, ladies and gentleman! Partner up with someone else.” Someone from the orchestra spoke.

Harry and Y/N look towards one another, “Would anyone even notice if we just stay together for the rest of the dance?” He asked.

“With the state that we’re all in right now? Doubt it.” Y/N said as she made no move to look for another dance partner.

Someone tapped Harry on his right shoulder, “May I cut in?” A smooth voice said, making the both of them stop and turn to see the intruder.

Draco Malfoy stood in all his glory, looking sinfully handsome in his black suit and crisp white shirt. Not a single hair out of place. A far cry from how he looked when Y/N last saw him in the trial chamber.

“Beg your pardon? What exactly are you trying to do, Malfoy?” Harry said defensively, putting a hand on her lower back as he tugged her closer to him. The motion didn’t go unnoticed, something flashed briefly in Draco’s eyes before he maintained his cool.

“I was just asking Y/L/N to dance with me, didn’t you hear that we are supposed to find a new partner?” Draco fired back aloofly.

“What is your game here? You could have just asked one of your friends like Parkinson or Greengrass over there, they too are short of partners.” Harry continued.

“Well I found myself rather fancying for Y/L/N’s company, it’s not as if she’s your girlfriend, Potter. She is allowed to dance with whomever she likes.” Draco retorted, not backing down. In fact he is fuelling the fire.

“See that’s the thing! How could you even think that Y/N would like to dance with you of all people?” Harry said with a scoff. “Right, *Y/N/N?”

Y/N noticed that they’re starting to create a commotion and some closest to them have even stopped dancing to watch what exactly is going on.

Not wanting to have a fight on hand, she cleared her throat, “It’s okay, Harry. Just one dance, people are starting to look, leave it be.”

Harry still looked unconvinced but she gave him a reassuring nod, then he nods back. “I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Y/N refocused her attention towards Draco, “Let’s dance then if you so insist.”

Draco throw her a charming grin that would’ve knocked other girls from their feet, but not her. “Indulge me, Y/L/N. I have been waiting to dance with you for hours.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Have it your way, Malfoy. Let’s make it clear that I’m only saying yes because I don’t want to cause a scene at your parents’s party.” But still she accepted his outstretched hand and let him pulls them closer together.

———————————————————————

Draco Malfoy turned out to be an excellent dance partner, not that it surprised her, his parents probably made him took ballroom dancing classes the moment that he could walk. Purebloods and their propriety, it’s rather old fashioned really.

“This feels rather nice, doesn’t it?” Draco said, breaking the silence between them.

As much as she wants to deny that, there’s something about being this close to him as his arms wrap around her that feels just... right.

“Only because you’re being a decent human being for once, Malfoy.” Y/N replied nonchalantly.

“That has some truth in it, I do apologize for all the times when I’ve been an arse to you and your friends.”

Y/N sniggered, “Draco Malfoy can actually apologize, huh? What has the world come to. Your poor pride must be in shambles now.”

Instead of throwing back a remark, she’s surprise to see him giving her an earnest smile. “I found that when it comes to you, Y/L/N.. I tend to forget all my principles.”

“Is this your attempt at being charming?” She said teasingly.

“That depends, is it working?” He asked with a curious tilt to his head.

“Perhaps.” She answered smoothly.

“Perhaps.” He echoed back.

They were silent for a moment as the dance demanded for a twirl, carefully spinning her around and ensuring he’s not stepping down on her dress.

“The decoration is magnificent, it kind off reminds me of the Yule Ball.” Y/N said, stirring them into another conversation.

Draco almost froze in his tracks and cautiously approached the subject, “What do you remember about it?”

Y/N gave him a weird look as in, “Do you think I got too drunk back then that I didn’t remember a thing?” but decided to comply.

“I went with Oliver Wood and I wore a jade colored dress, definitely a good night for me.” She said as she smiles at the memory that resurfaces. “Your date was Pansy Parkinson right?”

“Yes... but I didn’t exactly dance the night away with her.” He said quietly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow his way, “Oh? What happened?”

She can see the look of hesitation on his face and in the way that his mouth keeps on opening and closing as if weighing the words that’s on the tip of his tongue carefully. “I was with you.. that night I ditched her to accompany you instead.”

Y/N jaw dropped open, “How hilarious, Malfoy.”

“No, Y/N. I’m being serious.” And the look on his face tells her enough that he is indeed not joking, that it compelled her to shut her mouth.

“Wood left you to talk with a quidditch scout who also attended the Yule Ball. Probably lost track of time while trying to butter that person up.”

Y/N felt her head getting heavier and a migraine starting to throb her skull. “I don’t remember any of that.... you’re lying. I was with him the whole night and we even walked back together to the common room.”

“Y/N/N...” Draco whispered out her nickname, “It was me who walked you back.”

She broke away from him, earning a few curious glances from the surrounding couples.

“I’m sorry but you must excuse me.” She said, not even bothering to look up at him as she left in a hurry.

No matter how big this ballroom is, she still feels suffocated.

———————————————————————

Y/N escaped the confines of the ballroom and wander aimlessly, not even paying attention to where she’s headed. Her whole body feels feverish. She just knows that she needs to find some fresh air to breathe in.

With some luck she founds herself in front of a glass door that leads to a small balcony. She muttered a silent prayer and let out a relieved sigh as the door swung open.

She closed her eyes, deeply breathing in and out in a controlled motion to calm her erratic heart. What was it about his words that bothered her so? For Godric’s sake this is Malfoy that we’re talking about! He loves twisting other people’s mind.

Y/N slumped against the railing, settling her burning cheek on the cold granite. She probably looks real pathetic if anyone happen to pass by.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed since then, but her body tensed at the sound of the balcony door behind her opening. A soft pitter patter of steps slowly making its way to her.

“You really should come with a warning label or an instruction manual, Y/N.” Draco Malfoy’s voice broke the silent night. Even the noises from the party doesn’t reach this part of the manor.

“That’s rich coming from you, Malfoy. Honestly why do you constantly feel the need to be soo bloody annoying.” She shot back weekly.

“Is it okay if I join you?” He asked.

“A bit late for asking don’t you think? But please don’t mind me, it’s your house after all and I’m just a guest.” She answered, gesturing with her hand for him to come and stand beside her.

“What was that back inside, Malfoy?” Y/N internally chastised herself for the tremble in her voice.

“There is something that you have to know, Y/N. Something about us.” He replied just as quietly.

“I—I don’t get it, there was never an ‘us’ so what are you talking about?” Her hands started shaking again but she forced it into a fist to steady herself. It takes an awful lot of effort for her to believe her own words because somehow, she knows that there is something more to this situation and she’s about to find out.

“I have to do something first but I need you to trust me, can you do that?” He asked.

Despite her common sense that is screaming at her to just turn around and get as far away as she can from there, her body betrayed her and she founds herself nodding.

Her eyes followed his every movement as she watches Draco slowly pulls out his wand from the inner pocket of his suit. He lift both hands up, his wand still tightly clutched in his right hand, but he’s trying to convey that he means her no harm.

“Ready?” He asked, once again asking for her permission.

“Ready.” She replied while steeling herself for whatever is about to come.

And then she felt as if her body is flung into another dimension.

White erupts all around her, scenes flashing by soo fast. Faces.... soo many faces. She almost drop to her knees, most likely from motion sickness, but then it all stopped.

And then she sees it. Her memories of Draco. Him stealing her for a dance in the Yule Ball when she thought she would spend the rest of the night sulking in some abandoned corridor after Oliver left her. Draco who insisted on being her partner in Potions and kicking Seamus out of his seat beside her, saying that it’s for her own good unless she wants to risk being exposed to frequent explosion. Draco who discreetly lended her his sweater when he saw her shivering during Care for Magical Creatures class. Draco who erased himself out of her memories and out of her life.

Y/N gasped in pain, feeling as if she just got stabbed over and over again as the hurt comes rolling in waves.

“YOU HAD NO RIGHT, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!!!” She screamed in agony, throwing herself his way, pinning him to the ground as she shakes him by his shoulders.

Tears blurred her vision as her body shook with violent sobs. She felt broken in soo many ways that she has to fight hard just to anchor herself at the thread of reality.

“I’m so sorry, love. I’m soo fucking sorry.” She felt him crying too beneath her.

He tug at her arms, silently asking for permission to pull her into his arms. Having no fight left in her, she allowed herself this sliver of comfort. Although in this very moment, she wants nothing more than to hurt him as bad as he had hurt her.

“Why, Draco? How could you do that to me? To us?” Y/N asked, barely above a whisper. Her voice sounds soo devastated, it pains him to no end to see her this way.

“I had no other choice, Y/N/N. I can’t let Voldemort use you against me, I can’t put you in danger just because I’d love nothing more than to have you by my side forever. Believe me, love. I did it all for you.” He croaked.

“I just don’t get it.... how could someone care for another and still take so much from them?”

“But it saved you a great deal of trouble! Like back at my trial when they asked you whether or not we were involved. Had I not taken your memories away, you wouldn’t be able to lie your way out under the veritaserum.” Draco retorted, clearly frustrated.

“Still, Draco..... Believe me if our situation were reversed, you’d be as angry as I am. Having your memories taken away from you like that is horrifying, I feel soo violated.”

Slowly she untangled himself from him and sits up, despite everything that has happened, she could still feel her heart reaching out for him. It still craves him and she doesn’t think that there would ever come a time when it won’t.

Draco followed her lead and sat himself, leaning his body against the railing. “I’m so sorry for all the pain that I’ve caused you, for all the pain that I’m still causing.”

Y/N stares at his face, the person that she once loved with all her being. “I don’t know what to say, Draco... I don’t even know if we can go back to how we were before all this.”

She watched as his face fell but there’s understanding in his eyes, “I know, starlight. I just want you to be happy.”

Y/N stood and clean the invisible dust from her dress, not that it makes it appear better, the skirt is all rumpled now.

“I... have to go. Thank you for the invitation.” She said, putting on a mask of cool indifference even though under all that, a violent storm is tearing at her very soul, but she has to be strong, for herself.

“Thank you for coming... Be safe, Y/N.” He replied meekly, but he managed to give her a small smile.

Y/N nodded and just like that history is repeating itself, but this time it’s her turn to walk away from him.

———————————————————————

Y/N made her way back to the ballroom, her eyes frantically scanning the room for Harry.

She saw him standing at the other side of the room and she walked briskly towards him.

Harry immediately noticed that something’s off, “Are you okay, Y/N/N? Do I need to fight anyone?”

Y/N smiled at her bestfriend, “That would be one hell of an entertainment to see but not tonight, buddy. Can we leave now?”

“Absolutely.” He said as he offered her his arm and they walked together towards the exit.

Turned out that it is actually quite late and some people have decided to call it a day too thus why Lucius and Narcissa are standing near the door to say their farewell to the returning guests.

When it is Harry and Y/N’s turn, Narcissa suddenly laid a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “May I have a moment, dear?”

“Of course, Mrs. Malfoy.”

———————————————————————

Narcissa leads her to a parlor room not too far from there and offer her a seat at one of the plush settee.

“I would like to apologize for every wrong that I and my family have done to you, Miss Y/L/N. Our list of misdeeds are long and unforgiveable but all of us are paying for our sins. I wish you nothing but all the best that life could offer and Merlin knows how much you and your friends deserve it.” She said in a soft voice, shame painted her face.

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. I couldn’t speak for all of them but I know that me and Harry share the same sentiment especially towards you. I’d also like to thank you for sparing Harry’s life back then, if it weren’t for you, we would never be here.” Y/N replied, giving her a warm smile.

“You’re too kind, dear. We deserve far less than that but still I thank you for your clemency, but I’m afraid there is something else that I would like to talk to you about.”

“What about?”

“My son.” Narcissa said.

Y/N unconsciously gripped the edge of the settee as her thought floated back to the moment at the balcony.

“You know?” Y/N asked.

“You’ll find that rarely anything ever escaped a mother’s eye, Y/N.” Narcissa answered, “I know that what he did is wrong and it is yours to decide whether or not you will let him in your life again, but there is something that I’d like to give to you first.”

Narcissa walked towards a drawer and pull something out, a parchment.

“Draco wrote this sometime ago, it is for you.”

Y/N took the letter with shaky hands, “Why are you giving me this?”

“Draco might be a very difficult person, Y/N, but if there is one thing that I know for sure is the fact that my boy is completely in love with you.” Narcissa said as she smiles her way, “And I believe that he has chosen the right woman to anchored his heart to, you are a formidable force, dear. And I admire you for that.”

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

A/N : WHEW okay I think this was rather intense, what do you think?

Taglist : @chaoticgirl04 @accioxdracox @randomsingingkoala @ivarlothbroks @sycathorn-slush @thescarletknight2014 @irritantive @vaeonshi

#draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy drabble #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy prompt #draco malfoy smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fluff #harry potter drabble #harry potter angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshots

[delu-jean]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

(Jea x fem!/reader) -> Angst -> 4.2k 

XII > XIV

You and Reiner picked some flowers. They lay in one of the baskets you brought. They sat beautifully, making you reminisce the night Jean had given you that violet. Though these flowers were a lot larger, and the hue was more vibrant, the meaning behind that violet shone brighter than those characteristics combined. You grinned at such a thought, while Reiner kept on climbing the tree. 

You felt bad since you weren’t helping him gather the apples. Someone needed to hold the basket, making sure they didn’t touch the ground. Since the tree was becoming more barren as the years passed, the less fruit it would bear. So, you had to make sure no apples went to waste. Still, watching him do all of that hard work made you feel guilty. He reassured you (before), saying that it was better for him to actually do something right (since he trampled a lot of plants when picking flowers). So you let him be. Watching as each fruit fell. 

“It’s been a while...do you remember this place, Y/n?” 

“Of course I do…” you then gazed at the scenery in front of you. Being reminded of that one moment, that last moment you had felt such peace in Marely. The moment where Bertholdt had scurried to get you, the moment where you never thought that things would take such a turn. 

You looked at Reiner to see the guilt which struck him. Not only that, but the guilt then crept onto you. That peace was one which could never come back, along with Bertholdt himself. You felt burdened to say the least. Knowing how his best friend had died, yet not being allowed to tell him (since Jean’s cover would blow). It saddened you knowing how much weight was on his shoulders. Never knowing what had truly happened, but instead, escaping with survivor’s guilt. 

“Ah, two coming!” 

“Got it!” you caught them in your basket. Time passed as more apples stacked. He then decided to break the silence once again. 

“Do you ever wish that we could be kids again?” 

“Of course I do,” he nods in agreement. 

“If I could change one thing...just one of the many things in our childhood...it would be the fate we held in the military. Wishing things could have been different, and that you all could’ve been here,” you noticed how he didn’t say “we,” but instead said “you.” That meant he had wished you were all here, but not necessarily himself. You were going to question him, until he spoke yet again. 

“For Bertholdt to see such a sight. To see how grown the both of us have become, and...to see his family...just once more. Maybe even confess to Annie if he had the guts to,” you saw the pained expression he had which made you feel the same. 

“Bertholdt would be happy for us, especially since we’ve grown so much with the time given.” 

---

“Yeah...I guess so,” he then picked the last of the apples and came down. In the process, one of the better apples fell, cracking with the contact of the ground. Funny enough, it reminded you of Bertholdt. Since he unfortunately was one, if not, the sweetest apple. One who just had to fall far from the tree above.  

You both stepped into your house. Feeling tired as your arms limped, along with Reiner’s. You started to look around, wanting to see if Jean was at home. Lurking through the bedroom, and even checking your closet. Unfortunately (for you) he wasn’t. It’s almost as if he was gone with the wind. You felt a little bummed as Reiner stepped into the kitchen. Placing the baskets down, and washing his hands (readying himself for the session yet to come). He then asked you in a loud tone, hoping you would hear. 

“What are you doing Y/n?” 

“Oh, I’m looking for a pot!” you shouted back. 

“In your bedroom?” 

“Haha, yeah,” you were still feeling upset...but then remembered that you were the person who told him to leave (secretly regretting it qwq). 

You then walked over to Reiner, ready to help him make the pie. You both washed the apples, peeled, and chopped them. Reiner was a little klutzy with the knife, handling it like a weapon in battle. You found it quite funny, and guided his hands. Hoping he wouldn’t cut himself. To your surprise he didn’t, and ended up seasoning the fruit with different spices, sugars, and ingredients. When that was done, you put him in charge of kneading the crust. You (of course) mixed and measured the ingredients, and after doing so, told him to be gentle with the dough. Hoping his rough hands would maintain, and not ruin such a delicacy. 

You started to heat the filling as you monitored him from afar. He really was a quick learner, yet still needed to work on some of his skills. You wondered how Jean would’ve made the pie. If he would’ve added his own flare, or crust designs. Just thinking about it made you excited, hoping you both could someday. Reiner then started to roll, and place the crust. You both then finished your tasks. Thrilled with the results of your hard work. 

“Phew, thanks for your help Reiner.” 

“No problem. That was...a lot harder than I thought it would be.” 

“Mhm...oh yeah! I left some filling here for you. I tasted it and thought it wasn’t sweet enough, but I kept it that way since you know...Bertholdt preferred ‘natural’ sugars,” you smirked as Reiner tried a spoonful. 

“Haha, yup. Reminds me of Bertholdt. Also it's really tasty.” 

“That’s good! Okay, let’s put it away now,” you put both the filling, and crust away. Letting both rest separately so you could bake them tomorrow (before meeting the families). 

“I’ll pop it in the oven before leaving.” 

“Sounds good. Thanks for letting me help...or contribute at least. Sorry if I was a nuisance.” 

“Haha no, thanks for helping in general. Two pairs of hands are better than one, and you gave loads of help,” he then smiled, slipping his coat and shoes on. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” 

“No, I insist. I’ll come instead. You’ve been walking me home a LOT as of recently. Let me come get ya instead,” he seemed hesitant when you answered. Not sure as to why, you tried asking hoping you could hear his reasons. But instead he pestered you, insisting on grabbing you instead. Now you could understand Jean (in some way). Not being able to understand him directly...was making you feel frustrated. Not only that, but you weren’t able to understand why he was acting like that. 

Regardless, you eventually gave it. Though you found it suspicious, you decided to say no more. Not wanting to add tension, and instead, respecting his choice. 

“Okay fine. Get me near ten-ish?” 

---

“Alright, sounds good.” 

You got up, did your morning routine, got dressed, and had a filling meal. Each year, you and Reiner didn’t wear anything formal. Rather, you both stuck with a simple semi-formal outfit (didn’t want to be too formal, nor too casual). You never wore the same clothing, but rather, switched it up while trying to stay coordinated. This year, you decided to match in white, and beige. You wore a dress shirt, your sleeves puffed, filled with lace, two ribbons (on each side), a beige skirt which reached your legs, and a straw hat. While Reiner wore a beige cardigan, beige slacks, a dress shirt, along with a fleece vest. Though it was a semi-hot day, it was hotter than cold. So he decided to hold his cardigan for the majority of the time. He also brought a black leather watch, and a brown fedora (type of hat). You decided not to go all out since you wanted your interactions to seem civil. Nothing up top to make the families feel comfortable. 

You first went to the Galliard’s. Porco was home and didn’t seem happy with Reiner being there. Though there was some awkward tension, Reiner did his best to ignore any dirty glances. Trying to remember this visit wasn’t about Porco, but instead, Marcel. 

“You know, Marcel was a boy with less aspirations for himself, but instead for the people around him,” Mr. Galliard stated. 

Last night, Jean didn’t make his way back. You were a tad sad. Not being able to sleep with him there...felt unnatural. You really didn’t feel at ease in your own home. Constantly wondering where he was, if he was okay, or if he really had business. You honestly weren’t sure, but regardless, tried sleeping since today was important. 

“I never saw my son as a child, rather, the embodiment of an adult. One with the thoughts, and responsibility of a grown man. I felt, and still do feel guilty though...he never got the chance to be one. To experience the childhood he should have.” 

“Mhm,” you nodded after he said that. 

“I truly regret not making him live the life of a child, and it pains me that he was instead forced to be an adult,” his wife then put a hand on her husband’s. Giving him a stare out of grief, yet relief as she then eyed the both of you. 

“If my son had seen where you both are, he would be proud. He would be amazed with the work you both put in, and know that we are as well. We’ve seen the work Reiner puts in with Porco, doing his best to serve Marley with their titans. Along with you, Y/n. As you encourage and guide the Eldians to be the best they can. Both in the battlefield, and themselves personally. We truly are indebted, and hope you two will continue in the work you do for as long as possible.” 

“Ah I see, I’m glad our efforts have paid off. I have to agree though, Marcel truly was a great person-” 

“Tch,” Porco snarled as his mother then elbowed him. Reiner then continued to talk. Telling the three about the gift chosen, how you both thought it would suit Marcel, and who he was. Not just a comrade, but a dear friend as well. The pendant shone beautifully, and had a glint just like Marcel’s. The framing around the jewel caved around like it was a crown. Smooth, and precise edges, along with a clean finishing. The back also had an engraving of his name, along with leather straps which could detach. Framed in the box it came with and accompanied by two letters. 

“You can read them whenever you would like. Although, I do recommend doing so when alone,” you told them, and then made your way to the door. Porco decided to escort you out. Though both you, and Reiner expected a cold gesture, he instead gave you an unexpected one. 

“Thanks...for the gift. It means a lot.” 

---

“Yes of course, no need to thank us,” Reiner responded for the door to then shut. 

You both went to Annie’s house, hoping her father would be home. To your dismay...he wasn’t there...like always (on that day specifically). You tried knocking the door yet again, but to your “shock,” there’s no response. You see...on this day specifically, he refused to see either of you. He knew that your gestures were filled with good intent, but just...couldn’t bring himself to do it. He would always see you both whenever else, knowing that the topic wouldn’t arise. 

“Let’s get going...Mrs. Hoover is expecting us.” 

---

“Got it...Y/n.” 

Still, it saddened you to say the least. The poor man was so hurt, and he couldn’t bring up the topic. Though you wanted to console him, even with the time given, it seemed like it wasn’t going to happen. You placed the box on his doorstep, leaving a note telling him of the gift, and why you chose it. Hoping he would keep it with him, and store it safely. 

“Ah Y/n, Reiner! I haven’t seen you both in a while! Come, come inside!” Bertholdt’s mother said, for the both of you to enter their house. Pulling out chairs while her husband did the same. His father then started to brew tea, while the three of you (Reiner, you, and Mrs. Hoover) sat down. 

“How have you been?” 

“And I as well,” Mr. Hoover then placed the tea. The two lovers smiled at each other, and then sat beside one another. You were glad they weren’t in tears, nor upset. His parents (surprisingly) seemed to have taken his death unexpectedly. Not as something light hearted, nor sympathetic, but rather...very “well” in your opinion. They mourned when you had returned with no trail of Bertholdt, but got themselves together. Making good of his passing instead of sulking. 

Reiner then pulled out the basket of apples, handing it to them. While you showed the bouquet full of flowers. You also held the pie in your hands while his mother went to grab a vase. 

“It looks lovely Y/n, I’m assuming you used the apples?”

“Oh, I’ve been well,” you responded. 

“Yes ma'am. Bertholdt’s favourite.”

“Speaking of my dear son, my one and only child… Oh how he loved such delicacies. I wish I made him more when he was with us. Not only that, but he was one himself, and I wished we would’ve handled him with more care. Being more fragile with such a thing….” 

You see, his parents were really invested into the whole “Honorary Marleyin,” and “warrior candidate” events. They just wanted their son to exceed, and to know that he could go above and beyond. But in said process, instead of doing that...it gave the opposite effect. Making him feel less if anything. He knew they loved him, but their encouragement...seemed more discouraging to Bertholdt if anything. Disregarding his feelings, and thoughts to the opposition, convincing him that he was strong enough and could do it. 

Never considering his doubts, nor fears. Instead, brushing them off and telling him he could excel. There was no comfort whatsoever, instead, expectations and tension which were burdened to him...and him alone. 

“That was probably why he was so timid...because of how we treated him…. I truly do regret such a thing, but I was relieved to hear how he was a great and loving person to the both of you. Even if we didn’t get what “we wanted” from him, he received the things that he wanted for himself. Pushing himself to his limits, and persevering...without us.” 

“Yes, he truly was an amazing person. The closest friend I’ve ever had,” Reiner said with a sincere tone. The father then stepped in, saying: 

“Bertholdt would’ve loved to see how you both had grown to be so mature, understanding, and great in general.” 

“Since he loved you both so dearly, he also would’ve been glad at the decision you two are making, about becoming one. Also, congratulations on that. I hope you both have the happiest of times while you can. Though, I won’t lie, I wished Y/n were the one to marry Bertholdt (she said jokingly). But even so, I’m happy for both of you. Reiner, you’ve got yourself one lucky lady, and Y/n, you a lucky man.” 

“Yeah...I guess so,” Reiner responded. 

---

You then thought to yourself. Would Bertholdt actually be content with the engagement? Though his mother had thought “yes,” you had thought “no.” He probably would’ve opposed, saying that the marriage would’ve been pointless, and unsettling. That being the case, his opinion gave you yet another reason for your opposition. 

You both were done for the day, and were relieved for that. You were glad that two out of the three were there, liked the gifts given, and that you were able to show respect towards your comrades. So being that, you both were now walking. Yes, your destination would be home, but you weren’t sure as to what detours would be made. Both you and Reiner actually. One thing you were sure about, was that the man beside you seemed frustrated. Even though he should've relaxed since your tasks had just finished. 

“Y/n, I don’t want to assume...but…were you the person who might’ve leaked things?” 

“Oh...no. It wouldn’t make sense for me to, in all honesty…” 

But then at the same time, she might’ve assumed so because of how long you were taking. Thinking you must’ve made a decision (by now) and just didn’t want to be vocal about it. Of course, that wasn’t the case and you made it clear to Reiner. He then decided to switch up the conversation, trying to avert from the unwanted thought. 

“I forgot to ask, but were you able to get home safely that night?” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“That means...oh gosh,” that’s when you both realized that the only person who could’ve, and would’ve done so...was his mother. You also remembered what Alexandra said, about his mother being ecstatic about the engagement. That point secured your thoughts. She was probably very excited, and had no malicious intent involved. She just wanted the best for her son, and you as well (thinking Reiner was the best for you). Regardless, it kind of annoyed you. Especially since you hadn’t made the decision, and she inferred you had instead of asking/confirming. 

“That’s good.”

“And you?” 

“Yeah, I did. I walked Gabi home first, then made my way.” 

“Ahh I see,” yout both walked further for him to ask:

“Where were you the morning after? I thought you’d be at HQ, like you always are.” 

“Ah well…” you couldn’t tell him about Jean, so instead, told him about Alexandra. 

“Well, a friend of mine came over. We caught up and….” you couldn’t say that you were talking about him (his looks to be more specific), so instead, brought up the first few things which came to mind. 

“She um, congratulated me.”

“Oh really?” he seemed glad and you went on. 

“Not only that, but that most of the town knows…and that your mother seems ecstatic.”

“Oh no…” You then saw a burdensome look on his face. 

“Haha yeah. She also asked if I had a wedding dress, or ring. Which I found kind of funny-” He immediately cut in. 

“So what was your response?” 

“That I have neither.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Hm?...the real question is, what do you mean Reiner?” you then stared at the gentleman, awaiting for his answer. 

“Oh...it’s just that...you do have one.” 

“What?..” 

“Not a dress of course, but a ring.” 

He then Proceeded to tell you that he did have one ready. He felt guilty knowing that you had told her “no.” He thought that maybe you had felt bad, being that your answer was “no,” even though he did have one prepared. After all, ladies did take marriage as a big deal. And even though it was one out of friendship, he didn’t want to make you feel left out. Being considerate of such a big event. 

Though you could’ve (and most likely would’ve) married someone after Reiner, it still was your first wedding. And your first anything should always be taken seriously. 

“If I knew you were going to be bombarded with the other ladies bothering you...I would’ve given it sooner,” he fished a box out of his pocket, and handed it to you. 

You then opened it to see a fairly modest design. It was a simple gold band. One with a centered jewel in an oval shape. There were also two other smaller stones which accompanied the ring, and the band sat in a black, velvet box. It was a very beautiful ring, and Reiner could tell you liked it (based on how you sat in awe). He was glad he got such a ring, knowing how simple you could be, and that it seemed to suit your personality. 

“I’m sorry for not being able to get you better, but I hope that it’ll be enough for you to show other ladies. And hopefully...you don’t feel the need to humble yourself when with others,” you could feel the sincerity coming from him, and were thankful. But...you ultimately just...couldn’t accept such a gesture. 

“I’m sorry Reiner...but I can’t accept this.” 

“Oh, why is that?” 

“I just...can’t,” he then took the hint, and instead asked: 

“Is it because you aren’t sure yet?” you then nodded, not giving him anymore context. He also did the same. Nodding and letting you be. 

“But I insist...you should keep it.”

“Oh, really? And why is that?” 

“Well haha, my mother will pester me less. But of course, only if you want. If not, I can take it back. I understand your decisions, and will respect them for when you’re ready.” 

---

“You know what...sure, why not,” you didn’t want to be rude, and you also wanted to be less of a burden.

 After receiving the box, Reiner does what he thinks is best. He shields you from others on your walk through town. Although they found his gestures quite adorable, he thought the opposite, but was glad there was no attention regarding the ring. Covering the box made you tense less, and his efforts were greatly appreciated. He understood the townspeople's intentions, but didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.  

“Hey reiner...when it comes to deciding, how much time do you think I have?” 

“According to what my mother said...maybe a couple months. That is...if you want to have a um...child of course. If not, really whenever. As long as I don’t die,” he chuckled and you nod, laughing yourself. 

“I see, well...I’ll be sure to relay my decision whenever.” 

You took notice of how tired Reiner was. His eyes drowsy, posture limp, and in general, was very out of energy. You decided to halt, stopping in front of him. Making his pace lessen as you stood still. 

“Why do you look so tired? I know it’s not because of any drills,” you laughed as he looked to the side. 

“Don’t worry too much about it...it’s nothing.” 

“Yeah, of course.”

“Come on Reiner...tell me! I feel like I play a part in it…. I’m not sure as to what, but yeah,” he then looked back at you. Though he contemplated his thoughts, he decided to be honest. 

“Okay fine. As of recently, I've been pushed around by my mother, a couple elders, along with the civilians, and troops in general. Meeting whenever my mother arranged things, taking the time to accept gifts, being congratulated, and having conversations even when I don’t have the time. Though it should be fun, it’s really not. Especially when the warriors are on my ass for being late, and then I show up to meetings with a bunch of gifts. At first they were okay with everything, but as time progressed, they were uh...pissed with my appearances.” 

You felt bad. Your delay was really taking a toll on Reiner, yet you felt like you couldn’t give him your answer. The pressure was immense, you would be letting people down, and the Braun’s would be in an awkward (gossip-ish) position after your rejection. But then again, you didn’t want to marry him anymore. You had Jean now, plus, Reiner was only doing his best  since he wanted to make things right. Being your friend, trying to help build a future that might satisfy you when he’s gone. Imagining you living alone without benefits he could’ve provided, made him feel guilty. He already put you through so much, and although this wasn’t a huge step to redemption, it was one skid closer. 

But honestly, you cared less (for the marriage, not his efforts). If you said no, the entire thing would be off his plate. Yet...you felt bad seeing how much effort he put in. You saying no would mean all of that effort being drawn to waste. You then decided to ask him what he would do with both responses. Towards both rejection, and the acceptance of his proposal. 

“Reiner...what would you do if I said yes?” 

“To my proposal?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I would marry you,” he smirked at such an obvious question. Not making fun of you, rather, just pointing out the obvious. 

“Oh...yeah haha. Anything else though?” 

“Maybe have a child...I mean of course, like I said...it’s up to you” seemed embarrassed to bring up the subject, which made you laugh. 

“Okay...then what would you do if I said no?” 

“Honestly I’m not sure, but, if that’s what will make you happy, so be it. If you want to love someone else, I won't stop you. If you want to love yourself, and you alone, I will support you. No matter what you do...I just want to be a good friend is all. Make up for all I’ve done.” 

Just through that, you saw how serious Reiner was when taking this path to redemption. Though, not in the way you would have both envisioned, he was truly trying his best. Being a good friend, and doing his best to get you what, and where you needed to go. You were very touched by his sincerity, and words in general. Reiner was truly a great friend. Though questionable at times, and it would take time for you to wholeheartedly trust him, he was getting there. And would probably at one point. 

“Thanks Reiner.” 

“No need to. I’m content either way, so it’s really up to you.” 

XII > XIV

#jean #jean x you #jean x reader #jean x y/n #aot x y/n #jean kirschstein #jean x female reader #attack on titan #aot #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean aot #aot jean #attack on titan x you #attack one titan x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot season 4 #aot fluff #aot angst #jean angst #one of them #chapter thirteen

[wienerbarnes]

Much Ado About Nothing (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,726

Warnings: enemies to lovers, talk of wedding and marriage stuff

A/N: enjoy the first part and let me know what u think!

MAIN MASTERLIST | MUCH ADO MASTERLIST

The ride back to New York feels a lot longer than the ride to Croatia, Bucky decides. HYDRA wasn’t kidding around when they said cut one head off and two take its place, whatever. No matter how hard Earth’s Mightiest Heroes try, there’s another facility that pops up at one point or another.

Bucky tries to think positively; they should be off HYDRA duty, if they keep up the consistent schedule of finding a new facility every three or so months, for a bit now.

“What’s the first thing you guys are gonna do when you get back? I’m gonna get some hot chocolate from the little cafeteria in the main building.” Sam hums from the seat directly behind Bucky.

Bucky’s in the passenger while Steve pilots and he gives his own answer at the same time as Steve,

“Shower.”

“Propose to Sharon.”

A small pause for the boys to ensure they heard that correctly.

“Wanna run that by us again, Cap?” Sam pipes up.

“When we land, I’m going to propose to Sharon.” Steve repeats nonchalantly.

“Since when?!” Bucky asks. He knows for a fact that Steve and Sharon adore each other, but Steve has never brought up marriage once in the time he’s dated Sharon, and clearly he hasn’t done so to Sam, either.

“Listen, I know we haven’t been dating long, but I know I love her and I know she loves me, so, what’s the point in waiting?” He explains.

“Is this about what happened earlier, Steve?” Bucky asks, knowing his best friend all too well.

A bomb was in the facility, of course, and Steve and Bucky tried to disarm it while Sam rallied the rest of prisoners out of the building.

Now, while Steve has obtained most of his training through his serum-fueled muscle memory and military experience over the last few decades, he is extremely lucky. Steve has successfully disarmed twenty-nine bombs throughout his Avengers career. Not a single failure. With no bomb training.

So when he cut one of the wires confidently and the timer started ticking faster, it made him nervous. And it made him even more nervous when he clipped a different wire and the time counter automatically set to zero. He froze in shock and was lucky Bucky was able to fling the two of them out a window and away from the direct blast.

“Okay, so, yeah, maybe I got a little scared. But, listen, it’s not a lie that we lead dangerous lives. Why should I hold back on the things I want if I know tomorrow isn’t promised?” Steve defends.

“Steve, you can’t marry a girl because you’re scared of dying!” Bucky exclaims.

“I’m not marrying her for that, Bucky, I love her!”

“I know you love her, but -”

“But?! -”

“Alright, alright, listen,” Sam interrupts their sibling bickering, “If this is what you want, I’m with you 100%, Cap.” Sam reassures.

Steve gives a thankful smile and looks back to Bucky, hoping for the same.

“You know I’m always on board with you, you punk.” Bucky slaps a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Ah, big man’s gonna be engaged!” Sam throws his hands on Steve’s shoulders, jostling his body in the tiny pilot’s seat, and Bucky joins in on the teasing.

“I’m gonna tell everyone to meet in the hangar for when you ask her.” Sam says, pulling out his phone.

“You’re not gonna tell the Geek, are you?” Bucky groans.

“Of course, I’m gonna tell her. I don’t know why you don’t like her, man.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at the thought of the little lab rat. Sharon’s best friend. A young girl, born and raised in New York though thoroughly traveled through your work experience. Been to over fifty countries offering your expertise to combat cyberterrorism and have helped locate some of the hardest-to-find and worst people in the world.

You act like you’re all that just because you’re considered one of the youngest geniuses in the country and one of the greatest hackers in the world as well as the Avengers’ best tech expert of all time.

Whatever, big whoop, Bucky could care less.

As the jet lands, hugs and cheers are exchanged as the group of friends reacquaint themselves once again after a long mission. After greeting everyone, Bucky hangs on the outskirts of the group, waiting to see how Steve is going to pop his big question.

“C’mon, punk, don’t lose your courage.” Bucky talks to himself.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Bucky, but no one’s listening to you. You can stop talking.” Your voice pipes up next to him.

“Oh, hey, Little Miss Geeky, don’t you have some codes to hack, or something?” He bites at you.

“I told you not to call me that!”

“I told you not to call me that,” Bucky mocks you in a higher pitched voice.

“Geez, how does anyone stand you around here? I don’t get how all the female trainees are infatuated with you.”

“They definitely kiss my ass because I train them and I have the final say on whether or not they move on to second-class training, but even if I didn’t,” Bucky turns to face you now, “They’d still love me because every woman here loves me except for you, it seems.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone or anything right now, I don’t even know I’m capable of that, anymore.” Bucky finishes.

“Women everywhere are lucky, then. You’d make a horrible boyfriend. I’m glad I have no need for romance, either.”

“Hopefully you keep it that way, any guy that ends up with your catty ass will end up with his face scratched up.”

“Well, if his face looks anything like yours, a good scratching would only make it look better.”

“Alright, alright, enough, you two. Can’t even be civil around each other for five minutes.” Sam interrupts, slinging each of his arms around both you and Bucky’s shoulders, shoving himself in between the two of you.

“She started it.”

“No, he -”

“Stop! He’s about to do it.” Sam shushes you.

“He’s about to do what -”

“Guys, guys, I want everyone’s attention.” Steve’s voice calls out, and everyone quiets down immediately.

Steve turns to Sharon, “Sharon, you are the most beautiful, the strongest, the kindest, and most amazing woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He begins.

“I’ve known for a while now, and I know you have, too, that I love you with every fiber of my being. You make me a better Captain, and a better man every day I’m with you. I truly and deeply believe that you’re my soulmate and I won’t ever find another girl like you in my life. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. So, I don’t want to waste anymore time,” Steve lowers down onto one knee and a few gasps echo from the group.

Bucky sees you slap a hand over your mouth in shock and Sam sniffles beside him. A small smile appears on Bucky’s face, too.

“Sharon, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Steve, yes I’ll marry you!” Sharon cries out, jumping into Steve’s arms as he stands again, and the group claps and cheers for them.

They share sweet kiss after sweet kiss, relishing in the new step in their relationship.

Sharon’s voice catches everyone in their celebration, though, “Let’s get married now!”

Collective what’s come from the group of friends that surround them, “Like you said, babe, let’s not waste anymore time!”

“Sharon, if you think you’re not getting the most gorgeous and lovely wedding you deserve, you’re mistaken.” You tell her.

“For once, I agree with Techie, Shar. I mean you don’t have a dress, Steve doesn’t have a tux; hell, the two of you don’t even have rings!” Bucky says.

“I can make it happen in a week.” Tony’s voice booms from the group. Everyone looks to him.

“I can get you guys rings, I can get Sharon a dress, and Steve a suit, I can set up the smaller ballroom for a pre-wedding party for everyone tonight and get the bigger ballroom ready for a wedding by next Friday.” Tony offers.

“Consider it a wedding gift.” He smiles.

Sharon and Steve look to each other before looking back at Tony, “Next Friday it is, then.”

The group goes back to congratulating the newly engaged couple as well as conversing about the future wedding.

...

“Hey, did you guys hear about the rumored wedding?”

Bruce Banner pipes up in the empty lab after returning from downstairs. Well, not empty, of course, but empty of you, the intern’s tech leader in their internship.

“What idiot would want to get married, nowadays?” John pipes up.

The only reason he’s here is because his step-brother, Sam “The Falcon” Wilson insisted on getting him this internship gig. Everyone was always saying how he wasn’t going to live up to his big brother’s legacy, and he hated the fact that that was only ingrained into his existence further by the fact that Sam got him this position.

“Your brother’s best buddy.” Clint Barton enters and answers. Always roaming around the building, he is.

“What, that pretty boy, Steve?”

“That’s the one.” The archer confirms and plops himself down in a spinning chair.

“Huh. And I guess he’s marrying that pretty girlfriend of his? When did this happen?”

“That he is. It happened just downstairs now that they’ve returned from that mission. There’s a party tonight to celebrate.” Banner informs him, hoping the sound of a party will liven the kid’s spirits a bit.

Banner can see the kid’s frustration in living in his brother’s shadow - or feeling like so - and hopes that allowing him the opportunity to make some good memories will make his time here feel a little less miserable. Despite the connection to his brother, John’s incredibly smart for a nineteen-year-old, a teenager, and deserves to have a little play among all his work.

“Hmmm. I think I’ll go. Who doesn't love a good party, right?” John says, satisfying both Avengers in the lab with him.

Meanwhile, John’s fantasizing, he’s going to get into trouble around here.

…

Sharon, Tony, and you sit around a small table in the cafeteria while Sam waits for his hot chocolate across the room.

“If only I could find a guy in between Steve and Bucky. Steve’s too vanilla and Bucky’s too… Bucky.” You say.

“Keep thinking like that and you won’t find anyone.” Tony tells you.

“Well, good. I pray everyday that God doesn’t send me a husband. Ugh, and especially not a guy like Steve or Bucky; I can’t stand those beards.”

“Maybe you’ll find a husband that shaves.” Sharon offers.

“I know I’m not hearing my darling Geeky and husband as topics in the same conversation.” Sam finally joins with his cup of hot chocolate.

“You’re right, you’re not. I’ll start looking for a husband when they make men out of something other than trash. Speaking of which, I know Steve is America’s Golden Boy, or whatever, but you make sure he treats you right.” You say.

“I second that.” Sam agrees.

“I third it.” Tony follows.

Sharon laughs, “Guys, guys, I appreciate it, but I don’t need you guys to have that talk with me, Steve is amazing, and you all know it.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway, I’m going to go shower for the party tonight, I’ve been holed up in the lab all morning.” You stand and go to exit the cafeteria.

Bucky’s way ahead of you in that aspect, following through with what he said on the jet and retreating up to his room to shower as soon as the congratulations were given to the happy couple.

Showering is a special ritual Bucky follows after a rough mission. Of course, everyone showers after a mission, but Bucky makes his post-mission showers extra special.

He double shampoos both his hair and his beard, lathering them up with a smooth conditioner after, while he washes all the dirt and gunk from his body with a lavender and grapeseed oil body soap.

He applies a face mask while he cleans up any wounds he might’ve sustained on the mission, as well as polishing and scrubbing his metal arm clean. Once he’s finished, he painfully reminds himself that he can’t just sleep for the next sixteen hours. He has to get ready to go to a party.

He sighs to himself, “Let’s get this over with.”

…

Everyone in the ballroom is dressed to the nines for the last-minute engagement party. There’s music, dancing, drinks, and just about everyone that works in the tower is in that room.

The group of friends all find each other eventually, and of course all of the attention is on the future bride and groom. Talk of colors and themes and cakes all overwhelm the couple - the question of whether or not Sharon will wear a garter makes Steve blush.

Quite honestly, they’re on the verge of just eloping downtown and saying to hell with all the parties and festivities.

“Okay, okay, can we talk about something else? I don’t want all this wedding stuff to be the only thing I hear about for the next seven days.” Sharon finally interrupts.

“Okay, what do you want to talk about, Miss Bride-to-be?” You ask.

“Well, how about when you’re going to find yourself a husband?” Sharon teases her friend, knowing how much she despises talking about her own love life, or lack thereof.

“Oh no, absolutely not, not this again. I’m going to get a drink.” You wave her off, stepping away from the group and making your way back towards the open bar.

“I hope I didn’t arrive just as we were talking about relationship stuff.” Bucky says as he arrives and finally finds his friends.

“I’m afraid you did.” Natasha confirms beside Sharon.

“In that case, I’m gonna follow Geeky’s lead and get a drink; I’ll certainly need one for that conversation.” Bucky excuses himself, the shadow of his dark blue suit follows the flow of your navy gown worn tonight; you surely matched by complete accident.

“Imagine if they were married.” Sharon thinks aloud to Natasha.

“Who? Barnes and Geek-a-Chic? Please, they’d kill each other within a week of being married.” Natasha argues.

“I hope y'all aren’t talking about our Barnes and Techie, because there’s no way in hell they’d be caught dead with each other like that.” Sam butts in, Steve by his side.

“C’mon guys, think about it. It’s like opposites attract and all that. Plus, I think they are the only people that are a match for their own wits.” Sharon explains.

“I don’t know, babe. They’re constantly at each other’s necks; I don’t even think they’ve had a normal conversation with each other without insults or bickering.” Steve says.

“I suggest we do the impossible.” Tony interrupts, clearly having had a few too many drinks.

“While we wait for the wedding to come, we are going to set those two up together.” He hiccups.

“Tony, you’re crazy.”

“That’ll never work.”

“I’m with it!” Sam shouts, excited to play along and work with Tony on his shenanigans.

“Atta boy, Sammy! C’mon, Sharon? Nat? Steve? Where’s Clint, I know he’ll be on board with this.” Tony whips his head around in all directions looking for the archer.

“C’mon, guys, it’ll be fun! The worst that can happen is that we fail.” Sam tries to convince.

“I think the worst that can happen is that we succeed! Imagine Barnes and her together!” Natasha exclaims.

“I just want her to be happy. She deserves a good boyfriend and husband.” Sharon says sweetly, Sam words slowly convincing her.

“I agree.” Steve chimes in, wanting the best for his own best friend as well.

The five of them turn towards the bar to see Bucky and their favorite tech nerd pushing and shoving at each other’s shoulders, clearly fighting about something once again.

“Alright, I’m on board. Let’s do it.” Natasha finally agrees.

John watches the happy friend group from a distance. He sees his brother smiling and laughing with his friends; his famous, talented, skilled friends, his friends who are soon going to be married and live happily ever after.

Not if he can help it, anyway.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction

[fanficsandfluff]

Acting on the Truth

Fandom: DCEU, Zack Snyder’s Justice League

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Arthur Curry, Diana Prince, Barry Allen, Clark Kent, Victor Stone

Words: 2,046

It wasn’t fair and everyone in the room knew it wasn’t. Most especially Bruce, since he was the one on the receiving end of the group’s taunts. 

“Guys,” Bruce’s own voice sounded a little too high for his liking, so he cleared his throat and resumed in a near Batman-esque growl, “Can you all just knock it off?”

“Big guy in a carbon-fiber suit. Take that away and what are you?” Arthur shot back with a horrible gleam in his eyes.

“Ticklish,” Barry mumbled in glee beside him. 

Diana smiled wide but then tried to tamp it down a bit when she saw Bruce glance her way. We don’t want to embarrass him too bad, of course. Keep it civil. 

“I still...” Bruce paused and took a breath as opposed to stuttering through his sentence, “I still don’t see why you’re all so gung-ho about this. Everyone is ticklish.”

Arthur actually chuckled this time, throwing his body into the deep noises for emphasis, “Because you’re the freaking bat, big guy! It’s so... perfect.”

“We should just get him already,” Victor chimed in finally after standing in silence, observing the scene. 

Bruce was in the center of the room, leaning against his desk. He was surrounded on all sides by superheroes, and he was far outmatched in the superpower department. He remained silent as he stood up straight and headed for the door. He made it through, only to be stopped by Clark on the other side. 

All morning. All morning they were pestering him and making comments and giggling amongst themselves all because they saw Diana accidentally tickle his neck when they were working. And he reacted. Rookie move. 

Bruce shifted his eyes upward so he wouldn’t have to tilt his whole head to get a look at Clark’s face. No weakness, come on, Bruce.

He suddenly felt a very strange, speedy tickle along both of his sides, but it was over in a flas-- oh, fucking Barry.

Bruce’s arms cinched to his alerted sides and he turned around to see Barry in exactly the same spot he was in before he left the other room. Then he had Clark smirking at him from the other side. 

“Children,” Bruce mumbled to himself in a whisper as he got past Clark, knowing full-well Clark could probably hear him what with super hearing or whatever it was. 

“Alfred,” Bruce’s voice was now louder, “Lock the Batcave. Security breach protocol. No one gets in,” and he nearly made it to the secret door to the cave, too. He would’ve. If Diana hadn’t sidled up to him and caressed his forearm with her nails.

“Bruce,” she spoke softly, “We meant no harm.”

The Bat clenched his jaw but he did look at her. Her touch sent chills up his arm. 

“I know you don’t. It’s humiliating to be tickled, even though I honestly probably wouldn’t mind if you all tickled me--Hey!” Bruce shot his whole body back as if he was shocked. Diana giggled innocently, the Lasso of Truth’s end wrapped around the hand she held Bruce’s arm with. 

Expecting his whole world to come crumbling around him from the sheer embarrassment of what he just spoke aloud for everyone to hear, it was Bruce who was stunned when he finally looked around at the group who had followed him into this new room from the study and observed their faces. What he thought would be followed by deep, mocking laughter, instead were the caring, understanding faces of the people he now cared about. His cheeks were dusted pink, and yes, they could all see it behind his stubble. 

“It--It’s not something...” he shut his eyes and exhaled through his nose, “That wasn’t an invitation.”

And then Clark laughed, and the things that happened next were in a quick blur that maybe spanned 15 seconds. 

When he stopped and really thought about what happened, this is what he came up with: Diana snuck up behind him and gave him a hug, or what he thought was a hug, but she slipped that Lasso around his wrists and cinched them. Then Arthur came forward and hoisted Bruce over his shoulder and unceremoniously dumped him on the couch only a few feet away. Barry blocked any attempts of Bruce trying to get up and run away. Diana used the Lasso and yanked his arms up over his head and Victor locked in on his now raised wrists, grip stronger than iron. And the next thing he knew, everyone was surrounding him, smiling like jerks. 15 seconds. This all happened too fast for him to even stand a chance.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t...” Arthur drawled out as he leaned against the couch, almost straddling Bruce, “... mind if I do,” and with a feral grin, he dug in. 

“Ow! You fuhucking--” Bruce clamped his lips tight. Arthur’s tickling was a little rough. Now Bruce was struggling, using all his meditative might to not break. He did growl a lot though. And curse through his teeth. 

“You’re not doing it right,” Barry admonished after a few seconds of unsuccessful no-laughter. 

“He’s a tough dude, I figured I’d also be tough.”

“Try his hips,” Clark spoke from behind the back of the couch. 

Bruce eyed the Kryptonian, wondering what in the sweet ungodly hell gave it away... the eyes. The glowing eyes of x-ray vision. He could see nerve endings??

Arthur’s thumbs were in his hip joints in an instant and Bruce bucked, unable to really do much in Victor’s steely, unmoving grip. He laughed, oh god he did laugh. It was a loud burst of something that honestly sounded more like a scream than a laugh, but then there was a forced smile on his face that he tried to hide by shoving it into his raised arm. 

“Ahaww,” Barry cooed aloud and blushed when he realized he, indeed, did it aloud. 

“He’s going to kill all of you,” Victor pointed out.

“You’re included in this, aren’t you?” Barry asked, “Or are those not your arms holding him down?”

“Shh, you’re going to miss it,” Diana quieted the bickering men as she kneeled at the side of the couch and she started skittering her nails across Bruce’s sides and belly as Arthur tried not tickling so hard that he might leave bruises if he kept going.

Bruce arched his back and now he was laughing more continuously. He tried to keep it to just huffs of air after that first screamer sound, but now with all their dumbass banter and Diana’s nails, it was a lot. 

His chest rumbly laughter started to ooze out and there wasn’t much of anything more Bruce could do to stop it. He was overpowered, over-weakened, and now over-tickled. 

“Bruce, you may need to think about breathing. You’re turning red,” Clark offered sage advice. Yeah, thanks, dickhead, really helpful right now.

He was red and he knew it was because he was still trying with all his might to hold a little something in. Just a piece. If he could prevent himself from really letting go, he could still say he kept a shred of his dignity. 

Next thing he knew, there were new appendages at his armpits. Well, fuck.

Bruce cackled some more, the metaphorical dam burst all for one log or two. Dignity, man. One piece.

Bruce hadn’t spoken for a while now. After cursing at Arthur, he became so focused on not giving fully in that he didn’t have it in him to verbally fight or protest. 

By now he had six hands on him. Arthur still at his hips (and by now he figured out if he switched between a harsh digging in to then a slightly softer massage motion of his thumbs, it got to Bruce the best), Diana’s mischievous Amazonian nails wreaking havoc across his taught but expansive belly and sides, and now Victor with his extra mini arms that sprout from his back, scratching methodically into the hollows of his armpits. 

And hey, that was honestly pretty superhuman of him. He could take six super-hands wrecking his ticklish body without fully breaking. And that thought that he was still a little powerful was the last straw in the dam of laughter that burst from him. They all knew and recognized that Bruce was strong in his own ways, he didn’t need to shoot lasers from his fingers or punch a guy into the next planet. And Bruce finally got to that thought himself, even though it took some extra time. He was ready to let go. 

Oh, I might mention that it might’ve also been the quick addition of Barry pinching his kneecap that did it, but we’ll agree to disagree.

The whole group wore identical grins when they got Bruce to laugh and succumb to his ticklishness. 

“Can I try?” Barry asked Arthur, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah, g’head, speedy.”

And they switched positions, which gave Bruce a breather as Diana and Victor also stopped. There was the time to suck in oxygen.

Barry looked a little nervous to be doing what he was about to be doing. 

“Well?” Arthur nudged the kid’s back, “You gonna start?”

And just like that, Barry’s fingers were lightning. He took a much different approach than Arthur. While Arthur stayed in exactly the same spot and kept at it with forceful motions, Barry’s hands were everywhere. And he wasn’t even using his super speed because you could follow where his hands were going. 

Bruce’s laugh came out very surprised and slightly higher in pitch than the laughs he previously gifted them with. 

“Oho shit!” Bruce finally cursed again, as well. Why did it tickle so much? 

“I can’t believe I’m tickling Batman,” Barry quipped. He got some chuckles from the team.

There was a moment where Barry and Diana gasped simultaneously, and Arthur barked out his own laugh. Barry had zoned in on Bruce’s stomach and whatever happened and why, Bruce snorted as he took in air to make room for more laughter. Even Clark giggled when he knew he heard what he heard, raising a fist to his mouth so as to not embarrass Bruce further.

“Shuhut--Shut up! Ahall of you, fucking shut uhuhup,” Bruce was regaining some of that dignity we mentioned earlier. 

“We aren’t laughing at you,” Diana reassured. 

“That was honestly cute, Bruce,” Victor agreed. 

“Do it again,” Arthur spoke into Barry’s ear but it was not at all meant to be a whisper. Now Barry was on the hunt for more snorts. He did find one more in his search, but that’s all Bruce would allow him. 

And then the fingers stopped and Victor’s grip loosened. Bruce’s arms came crashing down and he started to hunch and curl in on himself. 

They waited until his residual breaths slowed to near normal. Diana reached her hand out towards Bruce’s face and the poor guy flinched away. 

Diana’s airy laughter floated out for a moment, “I wasn’t going to tickle,” she tried again and brushed hair that had fallen askew during the attack out of Bruce’s eyes and off his forehead. 

“You’re pr--”

“Fuck off.”

And then the team laughed. All of them. Bruce’s harsh cut-off of whatever Clark had to say even made him smile. 

That lasso may have had something to it... well, besides godly power. It was the Lasso of Truth after all, wasn’t it? Yeah, for all his show and bravado, this was all Bruce wanted. And he couldn’t have dreamed of it happening under better circumstances. 

With grumblings and mutterings of ‘I’m too old for this shit’ and the like, Bruce groaned his way into a sitting and then a standing position. They all had some real work to do, so they might as well get to it. Diana kissed him on the cheek for being a good sport, and Clark even clapped him on the shoulder. Barry couldn’t get a big dumb smile off his face, hard as he tried, and despite the others mentioning it to him multiple times. Arthur wiggled his fingers in the air at Bruce once and Bruce glared daggers at him. Victor was even smirking from time to time thinking about one of their big guns being ticklish like that. 

One big, happy family. 

#fanfiction #fanfic #zsjl #zack snyder's justice league #snyder cut #the snyder cut #ticklish!bruce #ticklish!batman #lee!bruce #lee!batman #bruce wayne #clark kent #diana prince #victor stone #barry allen #arthur curry #ler!arthur #ler!victor #ler!barry #ler!diana #batfleck #acting on the truth #tickling #tickle fic #tickle fanfic