#[ ei ] — reign of serenity. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nezuscribe · 2 years ago

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𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊

summary: when a disease turns the world into an apocalyptic landscape, you join a group in order to survive. you find yourself drawn to a certain blue-eyed man for no explainable reason. though the two of you have your own pasts to deal with, the two of you grow closer and closer together. after all, it seems as though you’re the only lovers left alive

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre: post apocalypse au, strangers to friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff, smut, some hurt comfort, inspired by some of the events from the last of us

word count: 16k+

warnings: 18+ mdni, some heavy-ish themes, mentions of suicide, smut, heavy making out, fingering, vaginal penetration, cum eating, slight begging, gojo is a teeny bit of a dick but overall just doesn’t know how to handle emotions

note: i did take some inspo from the last of us, so if you see something you might recognize, it’s because i most likely based something off of it. nothing too major though, but the infected here are like the ones in the game/show. i don’t want any comments saying i stole the idea bc i stg i’ll just combust

also a thank you for @jadeisthirsting for beta-reading again, love her!

You were glad that chocolate bars survived the apocalypse.

Those, along with chips (you don’t look at expiration dates anymore), crackers, and protein bars seemed to stand the tests of time.

The abandoned convenience store was harshly run down. The glass was shattered, and you could hear the crunch of shards underneath your boots whenever you walked up and down the aisles. Vegetation took reign in most of the area, and vines grew alongside the walls and the counters. Weeds sprung through the cracks in the floor and long blades of grass peeked in from the outside.

A lot of the aisles were already ransacked from those who came before, but you had to admit that this place was in much better condition food-wise than all the others you had seen. You loaded your cart with whatever you could find; cereal, bars, chips, instant ramen, jerky, really anything that wasn’t perishable by your standards.

You also made sure to stock up on medical supplies while you were here. Antiseptic, rolls of bandages, needles for stitching, medical tape. You were able to find a bottle of disinfectant and some rubbing alcohol, so you spent a couple of minutes cheering over the small victory.

The rays of sun that peeked through and washed out certain parts of the store a quiet orange made it seem more serene than it actually was, and you took your time as you leaned on the cart handle, walking slowly as you tried to pretend like you were just shopping for amenities like you would years ago, without the fear of the outside world trying to hunt you down the moment you stepped out.

Under your breath you hummed a soft tune, letting your fingers run over the empty shelves as you looked around.

Many opened boxes littered the ground. None of them were to your benefit so you just stepped over them, tapping something on your arm to keep your mind busy. It was only noon, so you had a couple of hours to waste before it got dark.

Though you had the hunting rifle near you in case anything popped out in front of you, you liked to pretend that there was no danger when you rounded a corner. It saved a little naive part of your mind to imagine that everything was normal when you knew that it wasn’t.

“...yeah, no, no, I agree, I just…”

You stopped in your tracks, air hitching in your throat as you went rigid upon hearing the muffled voices.

“I heard the bunkers in Kyoto and Osaka fell…radio transmission,” It was a female voice, that much you could make out. But assessing the sound of feet shuffling on the floor and the other sounds, you knew there had two be at least two people, maybe even more.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had heard somebody speak. You tried to remember, raking your mind for when it was, and it must have been months ago, maybe even a year, and that was just a small encounter. You doubted the guy even saw you. And this is far worse, they closed and you have nowhere to hide without making a sound. They could be raiders or scavengers. One of them could be infected without the other's knowledge. Millions of thoughts ran through your head as you tried to rationalize with yourself.

“What happened to the one in Nara?” This time it was a male voice, and much closer than before. They were probably only a few aisles away until they reached you. You could feel your heart beating uncontrollably fast, rattling against your ribcage as your mind faltered on what to you.

“They’re not letting people inside. They deter anybody unless you have a pre-bought cabin there.” The first woman replied, and you could hear some glass clanking as she kicked an empty beer bottle (from what you could deduce), across the floor.

“How do you know so much?” Another male asked. Three so far, you made a mental note as you tried shoving all your food and things in any pocket you could find, shoving the big bottle of rubbing alcohol down your shirt to nestle on your bra. You didn’t risk your life trying to find this place just to have some strangers take the things you so desperately need.

“They play messages on the radio at night. If you didn’t go to sleep so fuckin’ fast you might hear something useful.” The first girl said, but there was no bite to her voice. She even chuckled, and you swore one of the other guys laughed too.

“Why can’t we just stay where we are? We haven’t seen any infected here.” Four. This time it was another girl's voice. So far, two females and two males. You were severely outnumbered. You doubted you were that skilled, even in all your years, to surpass four people.

Deciding to leave a few bars behind, you gingerly moved past the cart, making sure not to make a sound as you tiptoed across the broken bottles and glass. You held your breath and tried to hold onto your jacket, not wanting anything to fall out.

You tried to phase out whatever they were saying so you could stay focused. You squinted your eyes as rays of the sun blinded you when they peeked through some cracks in the ceiling. You shuffled slowly and precisely, your heart quite literally beating in your throat as moved around the debris on the floor.

You could see the double doors, both open as you let out an inaudible sigh of relief when you saw them, a promise that you weren’t going to die right here when-

CRUNCH.

You stopped, eyes slowly falling down to the comically large piece of glass under your foot, now shattered into a million pieces as you stop breathing. You wait for abated second, thinking nobody heard until you heard some clattering coming from behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” One of the girls asked, her laughter long gone from her voice as her question rang through the store.

“I don’t know…wait here…”

You could run, it wasn’t that far to the door, but you were frozen in your place. It was like when…you couldn’t even think about it. Your mind blanked, your limbs not moving despite your brain willing them to do something, anything.

It felt like that day all over again, the weakness and fear that overtook your mind and body as you shook, your legs cramping, your hands shivering as your eyes darted around, your lips clamped between your teeth as blood roared in your ears.

You wondered if you’d been faster or more agile something may have gone differently. But really, no matter what you were wouldn’t have altered the fact that you saw a blur of clothes from your peripheral, craning to look to your right as your eyes meet bright blue ones.

Your brows furrowed when the two of you locked eyes, your chests moving up and down as you looked at the weapon in his hand, drawn out, pointing at your head as you blinked, mind going into overdrive as you let out a heavy sigh of air.

He looked angelic and you wanted to smack yourself for that being your first thought. His hair was artic white, tainted a bright yellow as the sun shined over him. He had a sturdy jaw and a tall frame. Long and delicate fingers clutching onto a weapon, getting ready to pull it out the moment he saw you.

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that you hadn’t seen a man for over three years, but you knew that even despite your blurry and confused judgment he was better looking than most of the guys you’ve seen most of your life.

There were a few seconds where neither of you said anything, not really knowing what to say as you shifted ever so slightly on your left foot, not knowing if you ran to the door he’d shoot you in the process.

“Satoru?” A girl came in from behind him, looking at him and then to where his gaze fell until she saw you, a small aurora of surprise taking over her features.

“Stay with Geto,” The man said, his voice harsh as his eyes narrowed on you, his face unreadable but cold nonetheless as his focus never left your every tiny motion. Taking in all of your features, your clothes, your skin, your eyes. Anything that could give away that you were infected.

Your eyes darted from him to the girl to his side, not knowing who to look at. The person with the gun pointed at you or the one who stared at you as if you were an artifact, a token she hadn’t seen before.

“I’m not a threat,” You say after a couple more seconds of unbearable silence, your voice hoarse from barely using it anymore. You rub at your throat, wincing a little as you put your arms up to show that you have nothing in your hands, “I swear I’ll just leave and nothing else.”

The girl stayed where she was, gnawing on her lip as she shoved the man's arms with hers.

“She seems fine-”

“Seems doesn’t mean she’s not infected.” He snapped, never taking his eyes away from you as he pulled his elbow away from her grasp. His voice had a bite to it, sending chills that traveled down your spine. He had no emotion on his face, clear of anything human.

“I-I’m not infected.” You retaliate, taking a tentative step forward, watching as his grip on his gun became tighter, and taking a step back as he pushed the girl behind him. You put your arms up again, worried you were playing with fate as you slowly and carefully put your bare arms under a ray of light, making sure he could see your actions. You tugged on your sleeves, pulled down the collar of your shirt, and showed him your calves, anything to prove that you weren’t bitten.

“See…?”

You waited, his stare jumping from your face to your arm, different gears in his head turning as he debated what to do.

“‘Toru, she’s not infected,” The girl said, trying to nudge his hand so he’d lower the weapon, “She’s right, she’d be in pain right now if she was.”

But he didn’t move, his jaw ticking as he shook his head, seemingly still not believing you.

“How do I know you all aren’t infected?” You snapped, angry, as you tried to hide the quiver in your voice. They could be and they’re doing well to hide it.

“We’re not.” He said, his voice steady, confident, and not carrying any trace of a lie.

“What’s taking so long?” Another voice joined the three of you, a man, the same in height as the one in front of you as he clasped a hand on his shoulder, his brow cocking in surprise when he saw you. His hair was a stark black, pulled into a bun behind his head. Some strands had escaped and fallen out. He seemed far more easygoing than the man next to him, though. His eyes were brighter and his smile was genuine. He looked over to the side as the girl shrugged, worry lacing her features as he drummed his fingers in her arm. He looked back at you, giving you a tiny smile, “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Doesn’t matter if you’d just let me go.” You said, your voice mirroring the white-haired man, the new guy’s lips pulling into a little grin as he let out a deep laugh.

“Drop the gun ‘Toru, she’s fine.” The new guy said with a laugh, stepping forward as you took one back, your lungs squeezing together tightly as you went to grab the weapon strapped on your back.

He raised his hands as you had seconds ago, trying to show that he wasn’t intending any harm as he took another step forward. The playful look he had on his face melted away, forming to something softer as he took in the cuts that littered your cheek and knew, the way your eyes darted from his hands to his face to detect any danger.

“Hello,” He started with a careful smile, not wanting to scare you off, “I’m Geto, but my friends call me Suguru,” He pointed to the girl behind him, “Vera even calls me dumb bitch-”

“Only when I’m mad!” She argued, shooting you an apologetic and embarrassed smile when she realized you were there too, and he snorted, continuing.

“And the blue-eyed freak is Satoru. Anna’s back there, somewhere. Swear we don’t mean any harm. He’s just,” He glanced behind him at the man who was slowly lowering the gun, his face still clearly telling that he was weary of you, “Cautious.”

He held out his hand, far larger than yours, for a shake.

You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting a little bit as you tried to make out just what he was trying to do.

But you dropped your hand from grasping onto the leather strap of your weapon, your fingers stretching, itching for some human contact as you debated for a little bit. Surely but slowly you brought your hand to his, softly clutching it to see a smile overtake his features.

“Y/n,” You reciprocate with a small smile of your own, your chapped lips not used to the feeling. His fingers were long as they overtook yours, calloused, but human. They gave yours a gentle squeeze, almost as if he could tell, and you have one back. Something that you never realized you had missed up until this very moment, “My name’s y/n.”

He said your name once under his breath to commit it to memory.

“You going anywhere specific?” He asked, his hands crossed across his chest as he waited patiently for you to answer.

You swallowed dryly, in desperate need of some water as you pointed somewhere north.

“Heard there’s a camp somewhere in Takayama…you?”

He chuckled, nodding as if he couldn’t believe your words, looking behind him as the girl you guessed was Vera let out a small laugh too. The blue-eyed man, Satoru you deduced, stayed stoic, not giving anything away.

“By any chance are you talking about that one camp that has running water ‘n shit?”

You nod, not trusting your voice anymore as you blink.

“Nice,” He cocked his head in the direction of his group, the second girl, Anna, now walking in to see what the fuss was about, “That’s where we’re going too. Or at least, trying to. Care to join?”

You quickly learned that this group was different from your old one.

They were serious, sure, but everybody was given the predicament. They were on guard at any sudden noise, guns drawn and ready, but they still acted like you guess they would have back in their old lives. They made jokes, laughed at each other's stupid mistakes, and spent the days and nights filling the silence with whatever they could.

It was jarring, really, seeing how your old group of six never laughed nor had a moment of naïve fun, but you were far more fond of this than that.

“Damn, so you’re the youngest one here then?” Geto asked one day as you five trudged through an abandoned city. You looked up, mouth parted in slight awe as you took in the strange sights; abandoned skyscrapers, some tilting over a bit. Many were severely destroyed by the bombings. There were large craters on the ground, concrete slabs, and building chunks that fell into them. Geto nudged your side, snapping you from your trance as he waited for you to answer.

“Oh, um, yeah, I guess,” Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “Only by a little bit though. I was about to graduate high school when it started and I guess that was like what, five-ish years ago?” You couldn’t distinctly remember, time had just become a construct after so many months.

Vera and Anna had begun talking about how old they were when it started, and you had gotten roped into the conversation.

“You’re the baby of the group now!” Anna exclaimed, pinching your cheeks with a giggle as you laughed softly, looking down at the cracked concrete beneath your feet as your backpack thumped on your back with every step you took, “It's good though,” She whispered in your ear, “You can use it to get out of chores.” You snickered at that, rolling your eyes but thankful for the tip.

You found out that Anna was only a couple of months older than you. Then came Geto, who was a year older than you two, Vera was around as old as him, and Gojo was two years older than you.

“Wait, so you’ve been traveling alone all these years?” Anna was the one to ask as she walked closer to you, her brows pinched together in confusion,

You could have sworn it was an unspoken rule not to talk about the past unless somebody brought it up directly.

“No, no,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled at the thought, “I was part of a bigger group. But we,” You looked away, at nothing in particular as a sharp pang ran through your chest, “We split up a while ago. That’s when I went solo.”

She nodded in understanding, pulling her hair back as she tied it up, fanning her face at the heat. The sun was beating harshly on your face, sweat prickling at your hairline as you squinted through the bright light.

“Was it hard?” Anna asked, clearly not picking up on your reluctance to the subject.

You swallowed, feeling like a part of your chest was heavier than it was seconds before as you cleared your throat.

“I, well,” You shrugged, stammering a bit, “A little bit, but I learned how to-”

“How’d you get your food?” She cut you off. You could tell she wasn’t trying to do any harm, her eyes shining with childish curiosity but it didn’t do anything to hide the fact that it quite literally felt like your throat was closing up.

“I would hunt or find whatever I co-”

“So you like being part of a group?”

“Yeah-”

“Did it ever get lonely?”

“Anna,” Gojo cut her off, his voice not loud but commanding enough to get everybody's attention, speaking for the first time in what seemed a couple of hours, “Calm down.”

Her eyes darted from you to him, finally noting the overwhelmed expression that you were trying your best to hide as she muttered out a quiet sorry. She moved to talk to Vera, and you were thankful that it wasn’t awkward as you went back to looking at the buildings.

You gave him a small nod, grateful, but he only blinked, looking away as he went back to listening to whatever Geto was telling him. You huffed out a small embarrassed laugh, not putting much thought into it as you kicked a pebble across the ground, feeling the wind tickle your cheeks as you tried to hold back the sting of tears in your eyes.

Gojo didn’t say much, even after you joined their group, and Vera told you it was normal and not to take it to heart. So you didn’t try to talk much with him, not wanting to push and prod at any of his boundaries. But he was nice otherwise, in his own ways. He took the night watch, letting you guys sleep, and insisted that he was fine with it. He was attentive, always giving the rest of his food to Anna when she complained about how hungry she was. He was cautious, as Geto would put it, but you couldn’t blame him. You were cautious too.

Did it ever get lonely? Her question rang through your mind. It was stupid, you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. Hell, you’ve only known these people for a couple of weeks but it felt like she had dug a hot iron into your chest with the simple query. It was pathetic, really, but it was that thing where the more you tried to stop yourself from crying the worse it became, and that seemed to be true right now.

You fell behind a little bit, not anything much, but enough so that you were by yourself as you looked up. You found it easier to control your emotions as you blinked back the tears, not wanting to wipe them away in case anybody noticed. In front of you, you could hear Vera and Anna arguing about something minuscule, smiles still on their faces as they playfully banter back and forth.

The wind began to pick up a bit, your eyes watering even more as you blinked back the fat tears that were threatening to fall and roll down your cheek, biting your lip as if that could make it stop.

“Everything alright?”

Your head whipped to the side to where the voice came from, a little surprised to see Gojo walking next to you. His hair was tucked behind his ears, hands in his pockets as he waited for your response.

As you blinked in shock a small tear fell, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand, no use in hiding it now as you nodded, lips quivering a bit as you sniffled. You could count the number of times he had spoken to you on a single hand, so you hid it by looking away. Your cheeks heated up under his heavy stare, not used to it, especially from him.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said as you exhaled shakily, not having the guts to look at him as you just stared directly ahead of you at the three heads of the other members of the group. But you weren't good at masking the lie as you watched from the corner of your eyes as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you.

Looking at his outstretched hand you saw a tissue and your eyes darted to him in questioning.

“It’s not poisoned, y’know.” He told you, his voice slightly less monotone as you let out a watery laugh, tentatively taking it from him as you whispered out a hushed thanks.

You blew your nose as quietly as you could, feeling bad as you threw it to the side of the street you blinked again, hoping this time you could do a better job of controlling your pesky and fragile emotions with somebody next to you.

There was a silent beat as neither of you said anything, wringing your fingers together as you tried to look for an explanation for all this. It was stupid, childish, and downright embarrassing, but you still couldn’t find the words to justify anything.

“Anna can be like that. You learn to live with it.” Gojo finally said, interrupting your train of thought as he spoke. You could tell he was slowing down his pace to match yours, his long legs taking shorter steps and you almost laughed at the sight.

“It’s okay,” You said, rubbing at your eyes again as your nose wrinkled again, “I’m just not used to being…”

“Bombarded?” He said, finding the right word as you nodded with a small chuckle.

“Yeah… that. I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m…” You trailed off, wiping at your eyes with your palms as you took in a shaky breath, “It’s just been a while since I’ve talked this much, so I’m still trying to get used to it…sorry.” You let out a little hiccup, missing the way his lips almost pulled into a smile at the sound.

“Don’t apologize,” He said, shrugging as he kicked a piece of broken asphalt across the sidewalk, “It’s not your fault.”

You went to open your mouth to say something back but Geto waved his arms, motioning the two of you to the rest of them as he pointed to something on the ground.

“Oi, Gojo, come check this out. I don’t know if this is a cordyceps or a regular mushroom.”

And you glanced at the man next to you one more time but he was already jogging forward to see what the fuss was about. It didn’t matter much, it shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop the way your little heart fluttered pathetically at his words. You quickened your pace, shaking your head at the thought as you joined the group once again.

But as much as you tried you couldn’t get his final words out of your head. It’s not your fault. How you wish it were true. If only he knew, he’d probably eat his own words. Swallow them up so that they were never spoken into existence because it was your fault. But you couldn’t say that now.

You hated that time between day and night more than anything.

When the crickets chirped and the sky became darker than it should have, casting a shadow over the ground. The stars were freckles across the sky and the light breeze didn’t distract you from the fact that clickers could be a stone's throw away from you without you ever realizing it.

The abandoned apartment complex they decided to spend the night in was definitely in better condition than the ones surrounding it, but even with the extensive search you guys did up and down to make sure it was clear of any danger, you still felt a little nauseous as they set up base in the lobby.

Your sleeping bags were sprawled out on the marble floor lined with dirt. You had your backpack next to you, your gun within arm's reach. Next to the fire was an array of cans to pick from, but you weren’t hungry, not in the slightest. You could barely stomach anything after Anna’s bombardment of questions that left you a quiet mess, and being surrounded by people in the dark just made it worse.

“Hungry?” Vera held out a can of preserved peaches but you shot your head, biting back the sick that made its way up to your throat at the thought of eating. You could feel her eyes burning on the side of your face but she didn’t press any further, eating as the two of you listened to Geto talk about his plan for reaching the camp in Takayama.

He was the more animated one of the two males. He talked with his hands, his face contorting in different ways as he conversed with Anna. Gojo sat on the side, watching the flames dance across the rocks, his blue eyes lit a color you’ve never seen before as he listened in his own way to the conversation.

“I saw you earlier,” Vera whispered as she leaned in closer to you, throwing the empty can aside as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, pointing to Geto so your attention could stay on him while you listened to her, mostly not to draw any attention from the others as she tucked her hair behind her ear, “Talking with Satoru.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking at Vera but she nudged you to look back at Geto, continuing.

“I know he’s not the easiest person to warm up to,” She said with a shrug, picking at her nails as he glanced at you with a soft smile, “He used to be, before all this. I can’t really blame him for being on guard-” You nodded in understanding and she softly chuckled at your response, “But he cares.”

About what? You wanted to ask but didn’t want to prod too much.

“So you knew him before?” This was an easier one to answer, and she nodded, cracking her thumb as she rested her head on her arm. The light from the little fire Geto made casted red and orange shadows on the highlights of her face, and she seemed younger here (she wasn’t even old). Her wrinkles were gone, eyes were less full of stress.

“Yeah, he lived near us. Us, being me and Geto.” She quickly said to save you the confusion. Huh, you thought to yourself, no wonder they were so close.

“So you all grew up together?”

“Yeah,” Her lips pulled into a soft smile, eyes creasing around the edges as she sat in thought, “From elementary school up until university. Geto and Gojo were even doing pre-med together.”

You almost wanted to laugh at the thought.

“I know, it’s weird. I can’t even begin to think of what they’d be like as doctors. But their parents wanted them to do it, so they just went along with whatever they said.”

“What were you doing?” You asked, not even trying to focus on Geto anymore, finding her stories far more interesting. After some time you quickly learned that Vera had much to say when she wanted to, she was just selective when she did.

“I was planning on becoming a teacher. It pissed my parents off, but I liked it.” Her words were soft, almost as if thinking about it brought back better memories. And you bet it probably did, a future she once wanted now far away from her reach.

“And Anna? Did she grow up with you guys too?”

She shook her head, stifling a yawn as her eyelids drooped a little bit.

“No, we met Anna along the way. She and Emi were close though,” She said, rubbing at her tired face, dragging it down as she tried to fight the sleep threatening its way through her body.

Emi?

You watched as her eyes widened slightly, looking over at you to see if you caught the name and she sighed in obvious disappointment, mad at herself for the slip-up. Mumbling something along the lines of shit to herself as she blinked quickly.

“Don’t - don’t ask,” She shot you a look and you dared to go against it, her face once lined with empathy turned stone cold, threatening even as her voice loomed its way through your bones, “Don’t say anything about that. Okay?”

You nod, muttering out a soft ok, almost too scared to answer her loudly as she nodded, clearly not happy with it but knowing there wasn’t much else she could do.

So you didn’t press it, pretending like you heard nothing as you nodded along to whatever Geto was saying. Though nothing could hide the fiery spark of curiosity that came with the new name, one you had never heard here before.

You wondered why she tried to hide it.

That night you couldn’t sleep.

You’d toss and turn, turning your pillow around to see if it would make a difference, but nothing was able to lull you into a tranquil state of being.

The apartment would creak and groan sometimes, the stories above you stable enough not to collapse, but weak enough to freak you out from shutting your eyes as you stared at them. The crystal chandelier overhead was overrun by dust, and it would sway a little when the wind from outside picked up.

After a couple of minutes, you gave up, huffing in annoyance as you rubbed at your sleepy eyes, wishing they would just work with the rest of your body and sleep, but that was a pathetic attempt and didn’t work.

You got up, careful not to make a sound and disturb anybody sleeping around you, and looked around, looking for somewhere to sit that was safe and peaceful enough to help ease your mind.

Moving as if you were about to step on a bomb, you found the reception desk, the paint peeling, and the wood corroding. It gave you a good view of the main apartment entrance, so you felt more comfortable there having a view of almost anything.

Resting your back on it you let out a heavy sigh, your chest moving as your head fell back, thudding against it softly as you played with your fingers.

“Why’re you up?”

You almost yelped but controlled the urge as you jumped in your spot, eyes darting around till they found a faint mop of white hair to your left. He was prodding at the last embers of the fire with a metal pipe, moving them around as they made soft crinkling sounds with his every move. You wondered to yourself, both in shame and worry, how you had somehow failed to miss that.

“Were you watching me?” You whispered, wincing as you tried to lower the volume, scoffing at that being the first thing that came to mind.

“I am on watch duty.” He said, his voice tinged with a bit of sarcasm as his brow raised a little bit. You could barely make him out with your limited vision, but you could tell from where he was standing that he was only a couple of feet away from you.

“You didn’t answer my first question.” He reminded you after a beat of silence, his voice low as he tried not to wake anybody up.

You yawned, shrugging as you picked up a rock not to your thigh, moving it around in your hand as your fingers ran along its smooth and imperfect crevices, its cool touch calming you down a little bit.

“Can’t sleep.” You responded after a bit of thinking, but it really was the truth. Maybe a simplified version of it, but it caused him to let out a quiet scoff, obviously not satisfied with your lazy response.

“Insomnia or bad dreams?”

You laughed a bit, your lips quirking at the edges as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“You would have made a spectacular doctor.”

He took in a sharp breath of air and you laughed, stifling your giggle with your hand. His reaction telling you he obviously didn’t want that knowledge to be spread around.

“Swear to god, that’s all she told me though.” You say, holding up your hands as if a pledge of your honesty though you doubted he could even see it. You heard him snort, obviously not buying it but not saying anything about it as he pushed at the coals around a little more.

A small rush of wind moved the dust and twigs next to you, the whooshing sound somewhat tranquil as it filled the silence. It wasn’t awkward like you thought it’d be, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was a place right in the middle, but it was better than your past three interactions with him.

You tried to squint, trying to make out his features. He was attractive, that much you could admit. Even if you met him before seeing a man became a rare occurrence you would have had the same thought. His frame was sturdy, lean, and tall. He filled out his clothes rather nicely, and his face was passive and a grimace away from forming a scowl, but you could tell he once used to laugh a lot more if the smile lines told you anything.

You wondered if the name Emi had anything to do with him losing his smile.

“Tell me something about yourself then.”

A shocked laugh threatened to bubble out of your throat at his sudden statement.

“W-Why?” You stuttered out with a laugh, confused as you shifted where you were sitting, tilting your head a little bit to the side, wishing he’d move so you could see clearly just who it was you were talking to.

“You know too much about me,” He said as if it was obvious, shrugging his shoulders as he set the metal pipe down gently to not make any noise, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you can’t sleep and are learning to talk more.”

A part of you wondered if he was being genuine or trying to be snarky.

But you just snorted, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of this as you threw your hands, looking up as you thought for a second for something interesting yet boring enough to shut him up so you could have some quiet time.

“I can only eat semi-sweet or dark chocolate. Milk’s a little too sweet for me.”

You could hear a snort in response, probably the first you’d ever heard from him as he shuffled around a little bit, his shadow moving a little bit closer to where you were sitting. The ray of moonlight illuminated part of his face, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as you watched him rest his chin on the palm of his hand.

“Seems like we’re complete opposites there,” He admitted, his lips threatening to tug into a smile, but he controlled it as if he didn’t want you to see that part of his hidden emotions.

“Then I’ll give you any milk chocolate bars I find.”

He huffed, a part of his lip caught under his teeth as he considered the thought.

“Is that good enough for you?”

He shook his head quickly, comically as you sighed, some sleep finally settling in as you rub at your forehead. You could feel the headache coming from a mile away.

“Need something more personal,” He retaliated, moving a little bit so that he wasn’t putting all his weight on his arms, his toned chest moving as he resituated himself. You tried to not make it obvious that you were staring, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Well now you’ve gone too far,” You say with a little laugh, the most genuine one you’ve had in a while. You miss the way his face almost mirrors yours, the edges of his lips threatening to pull up into a grin as you smile. “I like yellow.” You finally answer, your smile faltering as you think back.

“Any particular reason or do you just like the color of piss?”

“I had this perfume bottle, I got it for my birthday when I was twelve. The actual perfume smelled disgusting but the bottle itself was this glass-stained yellow, a soft yellow that I haven’t seen anywhere else.” You explained, bringing one leg up to your chest, and wrapping your arms around it to steady yourself.

“What about you?” He shook his head, waving his pointed finger around, clearly not answering a question yet.

“No, still on you. Where were you when this all started?” Gojo asked, and the jump from the previous question to this one took you off guard. If you were counting correctly he had two more facts above you than you did for him, but you indulged him, having nothing better to do with your time.

“At home. I was watching TV with my dad when they broadcasted that signal,” You paused, the memories flooding back as you tried to blink them away. The car, your neighbors who were already infected, “You?”

For a second you thought he wasn’t going to answer but he shifted, running a hand through his hair as he whistled quietly, thinking.

“I was in a lecture hall.”

“For your doctor lectures?”

He chuckled, for the first time since you’ve known him, shaking his head as he eventually nodded, knowing that you were probably never going to give up the information. You watched as he rested his chin on his palm, the new angle giving you a better view of him and you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“Yeah,” He couldn’t fight the smile anymore, his face turning softer as he smirked, “For my doctor lectures.”

“Go sleep,” He said after a heavy beat of silence, his voice softer as he watched you wipe at your eyes, a big yawn escaping your mouth as you blinked tiredly, “It’s almost morning.”

You shake your head, wondering why a part of you was disappointed that he was right. As you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants as you shuffled your way around some bricks, finding your way back to your sleeping bag (with more difficulty than you’d like to admit), and threw it over your body. You could feel his eyes burning on your back, but you shut your eyes and pretended that you were asleep.

A couple of weeks after that night and you wondered if you had somehow passed a test.

While he still didn’t speak much to you, he wasn’t cautious nor weary when he did.

Gojo still didn’t laugh or smile much, but his little grin was less guarded when you spoke to him. Maybe it was to save you the pity of your awful jokes, but a part of you felt happier knowing he warmed up to you a bit.

“You just haven’t heard these puns yet,” You argued one day, pulling out the book you found when you scavenged through an abandoned store about a week ago. It had water damage and some of the words you could barely read, “Okay, okay, what about this one? 3.14% of sailors are Pi-rates. Huh?” You looked up at him, wiggling your eyebrows only to see him with a disgruntled look, staring down at you as he shook his head in disappointment.

“None of these should have been published.” He argued, and although he sounded disgruntled, there was an edge of him holding back a laugh.

“Oh, I like this one!” You exclaimed with a giggle, Vera looking back at the two of you as she smiled to herself, nudging at Geto so he could see too, “What do you use to cut a Roman Emperor's hair?” He didn’t say anything for a second so you lightly kicked his shin, waiting for an answer.

“I don't know, scissors?” You grinned, shocked at how close he was.

“Almost, the answer is Ceasers,” You revealed with a giggle, showing Gojo the book as he sighed, rubbing at his forehead in faux annoyance. You put the book in your back pocket, careful when you fold it, wanting to save the rest for later, “Don’t worry, I’m saving the best for last.” You patted the pocket as he laughed, excusing himself as Geto called for him to check something out on the map. Your foot almost slipped when you walked on some grass, wet from the rain last night, and his hands soft out to grip your elbows, steadying you as you thanked him. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where his lingering touch was, and you looked away, hoping he couldn’t pick up on the embarrassment.

“Y/n, can you come here for a ‘sec?” Anna called your name, ushering you over as you looked around to see her walking a little bit behind you. And you made your way over to her, readjusting your backpack as your shoulder sunk a bit from how heavy it was.

She offered you a small smile, though you could tell she was thinking a lot of things through. You noticed that when that line appeared down the middle of her brow, it meant that she was deep in thought. That, or she was mad. But with the way her fingers danced on her arms in discomfort and her eyes darted around the rest of the group, you wanted to bet that she was going through it.

“What’s up?” You finally asked, just hoping there weren't any more questions about how difficult it was traveling alone.

“I’ve seen that you and Gojo have gotten closer, w-which is great! Don’t get me wrong!” She sputtered, shooting you a quick grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “But I feel like I should let you know…”

When she didn’t finish you raised a brow, wondering what could possibly be so bad.

“Do,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her body, deciding to just get it over with, “Do you remember that one night? In that apartment lobby?”

You almost laughed. How could you forget?

“Yeah…vaguely,” That was a fat lie. It was all you could think about in these following weeks. Your conversation with both Vera and Gojo plagued different parts of your mind for different reasons.

“Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear ‘Ver, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…” She trailed off, gnawing on her lip as her eye twitched, “I heard her say Emi and I know she brushed it off but I feel like you deserve to know about it. You’ve been with us long enough so that I can trust you with this.”

Was it really that easy? You didn’t say anything, hoping the slight excitement and anticipation on your face wouldn’t scare her away as you gave her the time she needed until she continued. She took in a deep breath and started.

“I’d known Emi for a long time now - gosh, probably over a decade at this point. She was nice, but she had her own flaws, but she was my only friend so I ignored them. When this,” She motioned her arms around you, “Whole thing happened, she was the only one I had. We were planning on going to a quarantine zone in Tokyo but it fell almost immediately, so we just went wherever we could.

“We met up with those guys a couple of months later. Maybe two, two and a half years ago?” She thought back, shaking her head because it wasn’t important to fixate on, “And they took us in. They were all really nice, including ‘Toru.

“After a while, he and Emi got closer, and for that while, it was just a fling that would pass the time. But they cared for each, it was pretty obvious. Or from what she told me, it sounded like they did. But,” She bit her cheek, playing nervously with her fingers as she looked up at you, “it was hard. They fought. A lot,” She gave a humorless laugh as she looked back on it, “Day in and day out. They fought over the smallest of things. I swear, I don’t know how-” She stopped, apologizing as she got back on track, “Anyways, what I’m trying to get at is that one of these fights got bad. I can’t even remember what it was about. Food? Maybe clothes? Doesn’t matter. It got big and they said some shit neither of them meant, but Emi left. She said she was leaving, but nobody believed her. She always said shit like that. But she did, she left and we didn’t see her for a couple of days.

“‘Toru was really worried, never seen him so scared before. He went out looking for her and came back a week later. He told us she was bitten, late in the stages of infection. He said he had to…” She trailed off, voice catching in her throat and you quickly looked for a tissue, as she gratefully accepted it.

“I see the way you try to make him laugh, I know, but Emi took that part of him. He wasn’t the same after she left, and I don’t think he ever will be. So just - don’t get your hopes up when you’re around him, okay?”

“I, um, okay…?” But you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to. You just knew that Anna nodded, thankful that you heard, and the two of you made your way back to your group. Maybe it was the way your face had lost all the laughter it had just a couple minutes ago, or that Anna somehow managed to see what you were trying to do, but Gojo glanced at you, his brows furrowing together in slight worry.

You don’t know why the information affected you so much. It could have been just from how shocking it was to hear it, or the fact that Anna could tell that you were trying to get him to smile more. It made sense, the more you thought about why he was the way he was, but you still felt a part of you crumbling at the thought. Even if you never met Emi, you couldn’t definitely feel her presence after she was gone.

What? He mouthed, altering his steps so that he could weave around Geto to get closer to you. But you shook your head, reassuring him to stay where he was as you gave him a curt nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It’d be over soon, you told yourself. After you get to the camp in Takayama, it’d be big enough to go your separate ways. You’ll forget the last five years, forget everything you’ve gone through, and start something new.

If not, you’d rather just get bitten and get this hell over with.

“What’d she tell you?”

Gojo cornered you when they were all asleep, the tall trees surrounding you casting shadows over his face. You didn’t light a fire this time, Geto saying it’d be safer if you just used flashlights instead. You knew the infected had bad eyesight, relying on sound more than anything, but that didn’t mean raiders couldn’t see.

There was no point in lying, he’d sniff it out immediately if you did, so you shrugged, glancing to the side as you blindly moved around leaves, trying to be quiet to get away from the group in case any of them were awake.

“Nothing important,” You muttered, glad it was dark for once so that he couldn’t see your reaction and vice versa.

“Bullshit,” His voice was low, your eyes slightly widening in surprise at his reaction, “Wouldn’t have been nothing if you looked like that afterwards.”

Though you could barely see anything, you could feel his presence. He took up a lot of space, and you could practically feel how his hands were only a little distance away from yours. His fingers were inches away from your wrist, and you knew that because when you moved you could feel the light indent, a slight burn as if he’d set your skin aflame.

“Nothing important to you.” You specify, crossing your arms across your chest as you heard him scoff, his jaw ticking as he prodded at his cheek with his tongue. If only your past self could see you now, arguing with a man who you thought only ever had two emotions he used on and off.

He waited, hands on his hips as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, hanging his head down for a second until he looked back up.

“Green.”

You pause, brows creasing as you huff out a laugh.

“What?”

“Green,” He repeated, “That’s my favorite color.” When it dawns on you what he’s doing you have to contain the giggle that slipped past your lips, covering your mouth when your hands as you continue to laugh.

“Why’re you laughing?” He asks, his voice genuinely confused as you laugh more, holding onto a tree trunk to steady yourself, “W-what?” But you hear the soft inflection of a laugh in his voice now, almost as if he is trying to control it as you wave your hands, trying to make it stop but you just hit his hands in the process.

“So you refuse to tell me and you hit me in the process?” Any seriousness has dropped from him completely and you laugh through your hands, trying to apologize but your cheeks hurt. It wasn’t that funny, really you don’t know why you’re reacting this way, but it’s that feeling when you start laughing, and it grows out of control for no reason.

“I-I’m sorry!” You wheeze out, trying to find his hands to apologize but he brings them to your mouth. It was dark so you couldn’t see, but his eyes darted around, suddenly realizing how loud you were being.

“Sssh, be quiet.” He hissed out, and you giggled again, licking the palm of his hand as he gave a muted yelp, bringing it close to his chest as he wiped it on his pants. He looked back up at the outline of your shadow, glaring.

“You’re a fucking child, y’know that?” He groaned, but his words didn’t quite match what his face was because his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh, carefree as you failed at trying to control it.

“Admit it, I’m funnny,” You drawled out, laughing as you hunched over a little bit, waving your finger around somewhere near his face, “You’re laughinggg because I’m funnny.” You stated, tugging on his fingers playfully, and he snorted, gently swatting your hand away as he sighed.

“You’re insufferable is what you are.” Is what Gojo finally landed on.

“Tell me something more personal and I might tell you.” You poked his chest, repeating his own words back to him as you leaned back on the tree. You had no intentions of revealing what Anna told you, but you wanted to see how far he’d go to know.

“You’re impossible,” He muttered, running a hand through his hair, debating whether or not it was even worth it to tell you something when he knew damn well you weren’t going to give any information up.

“I’m scared.” He heaved in a sigh and you cut him off with a chortle.

“Everybody’s scared-”

“Of ending up alone.” He finished, brow raising as your laugh quickly died down, some fort of satisfactory grin that didn’t mirror the gloom in his eyes made its way onto his face as he asked, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” You quickly say, rubbing at your jaw as you take a set back, easing on the trunk as you duck your head down in embarrassment, crunching some dead leaves under your boot, shame riding up your bones as you lamely shrug, “Just wasn’t expecting that.” You mutter, looking up at him from the corner of your eye.

He chuckles, taking a step closer, his breath hitting your cheek.

“What? Expecting me to say spiders? The dark?” You can feel his slender fingers a hairs distance away from your arms, careful not to touch you, but still close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“No,” You shudder, both from the cold and from him, “Thought you were ‘gonna say med school or something.”

He lets out a big groan, hands gingerly gripping your elbows as his head falls on your shoulder, fighting his smile as you laugh again, muffling it with his coat as you gently pat his back.

“Where do fruits go for vacation?” Your hand stalled on his back, feeling his slumped form take in a deep, steadying breath.

“Where?”

“Pear-is.” You heard him mumble something on your shoulder, giggling as he shook his head in mock dismay. But this was different than all the last times, you could tell. His back shook a little, and he refused to look up.

You didn't comment on the tears that began to stain your shirt, or his quivering chest every time he breathed. So you wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing a little bit, feeling his arms snake around your waist as he tugged you just a little bit closer.

Even though it didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed, it had almost been six months since you began traveling with them. The journey would have been far faster if any of the cars worked, but Takayama was only a few weeks away. According to Geto.

Gojo walked up next to you, shoving something in the pocket of your coat. You look at him from the side of your eye, digging it out to see a chocolate bar as he looks away, a little smirk on his face as you lightly elbow his side.

“Can literally hear your stomach begging for something,” He teased, his face stoic but his voice lighthearted as you laugh, grateful even if you didn’t show it as you opened it up, noting that it was dark, telling him thanks with a mouthful of chocolate.

“Want some?” You offered, holding the bar out as he declined, shrugging, “Suit yourself.” You muttered, mouth full of the sweet as you finished the rest of it. He felt his eyes lingering on your lips stained with the chocolate as Gojo dryly swallowed, averting his gaze as he looked somewhere else, his cheeks colored light pink.

“I think we’re the chosen ones,” Geto stated, walking around freely as he pointed to all of you including himself. Your group made it out of the forest a couple of days ago, so he’s been living his life, trying to enjoy the run-down towns as much as he could before you went into the forests again until you reached Takayama.

“God, you’re so fucking stupid Suguru,” Vera said, shoving past him as she rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of her protein bar as she shared a knowing look with you, the two of you laughing as Geto tried to explain himself.

“No, no, hear me out. Aside from me, you and ‘Toru, y/n, and Anna come from different places. But we all somehow found each other, and as a group, are going to the chosen place.” He concluded, wiggling his eyebrows as everybody else just groaned as he went on another one of his tangents.

“No, really, think about it,” He tried to catch up to her pace, walking backward so that he could also look at all of you when he spoke, “We’ve all been picked through natural selection. These past five, six, years and we survived them. We-”

He stopped, and all of you stopped in your tracks when you heard the dreaded sound.

Clicking. Groaning.

“Oh fuck,” Geto stopped, everybody, drawing out their weapons as you tried to figure out where it was coming from. Your heart was rattling inside your ribcage, your hands fumbling as you tried to find your gun. It had been so long since you’d encountered an infected that you were naively beginning to think that they had just disappeared.

“It’s okay,” Gojo muttered, glancing over to you as he held his hand on yours, trying to calm your shaking down a bit, “You’re ‘gonna be okay.” He was so sure of it that you almost believed his words.

But long gone was the carefree attitude as the clicking got louder both in volume and in amount.

“Shit,” Gojo looked over to Vera, “How many d’you think there is?” The clicking got louder, your fingers trembling over the trigger as you looked at the abandoned city hall, finally locating where it was coming from. He told you that she was the best shooter they had, and she was far more confident in taking clickers and runners down than anybody else was.

“Too many,” She called back, eyes darting from everywhere, looking for somewhere to escape from, “Fuck, we ‘gotta split.” You guys were in an alleyway, stuck between taking the road and going through a hole in one of the walls. But from where you could tell, taking the road was only going to direct you toward the infected. The wall still gave them an opening to wherever you guys planned to run from, so in some way, you were cornered.

“What?” He called out, taking a step back, his brows furrowed in confusion, “No way, we can’t-”

“Listen to me. Here, take my map,” She threw it over to him and he caught it, mouthing confusion but she shook her head, “Suguru and I can hold them off for right now, but you take Anna and y/n. If we can’t find-”

“We’re not going to fucking leave!” He shouted back, raising his voice to be heard over the number of infected, his cheeks tinged pink as you nodded, not trusting your words as you felt your stomach churn.

“If we can’t find you, meet us in Takayama! Don’t look back, just keep running north!” She motioned down the street, “I can radio with Anna, don’t worry!” She was trying to shove him but he wouldn’t move.

“Vera, I’m not leaving you guys-” But he was cut off by an animalistic roar, everybody’s attention shooting back to the noise, his words dying down in his throat as you saw a glimpse of the infected.

You would never get over the way they looked. You thought you’d be used to it by now, but it never fails to make your hands clammy and you're overall nauseous. They had large fungi popping out of their cranium, their clothes all battered and bloody. They ran so fast that you wondered if they were created just to outrun the human race, but now wasn’t the time for it. All you could hear was their and Vera’s screams.

“Satoru,” She took his arm, holding it in a tight grasp as her eyes darted from him to them, seething from between her teeth, “Take them. Don’t - don’t regret it like you did last time. You couldn’t… but…you can save them. Go. Please.”

He glared at her, eyes hiding a different meaning than what his face showed, nostrils flaring but he stopped. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, muttering out a barely audible I’m sorry, looking at Geto as he gave him a small nod, holding his position down as he waited to buy you guys some time.

He grabbed your wrist, urging Anna to follow him as Vera and Geto began to block you guys.

“W-wait, no, no, let go of me!” You tried to wrangle out of his iron grip but he was insistently dragging you away as you kicked, your eyes welling up, fear overtaking your body as they ran, coming closer and closer to the five of you as Gojo tried to lead you through the hole in the wall.

“Go with him, please, we’ll be okay,” Vera urged as Geto began firing, memories, similar moments cursing through your mind as you got the worst sense of deja vu. You almost felt like collapsing had it not been for Gojo’s steady hand, leading you away.

You cried out for them one last time but he already pulled you through, Anna not too far behind as you held onto him for support, your mouth open as you looked back at him, slowly beginning to realize what happened.

A couple of hours later and you couldn't feel your legs, wordlessly putting Gojo in charge of finding a house to stay at to stay the night.

It was in some run-down town, but many of the homes are still standing. It was probably some of the best pieces of architecture you’ve seen so far, meaning that most of the paint was still on and the furniture wasn’t entirely moth-eaten.

The one Gojo picked was at the end of a cul de sac, seemingly standing unharmed. Vines grew uncontrollably from the sides, and the house was caked with dirt, but you’d take it. He scooped it out, making sure there weren’t any infected hiding in any of the dark rooms, but he gave you two the okay signal and you camped out there for the night.

It was stocked with water and canned food, some chairs knocked down and carpets scrunched up as if the previous owners were trying to leave in a hurry. All the rooms seemed fine, and you just picked a random one as you threw your bag in, not caring as you made your way downstairs to where the rest of them were.

You found them in the living room, the shutters closed, hints of the afternoon sun peeking through. Gojo glanced over at you, his eyes running over your body, quickly scanning to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You made your way to a chair, rubbing your hands over your face as if that could wake you up from this living nightmare.

“They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay.” Anna said, more to convince herself than the rest of you, nodding as she said it again, but with no confidence. It wasn’t night yet, but Vera still hadn’t radioed in, anticipation deep in your throats as your wall stared at the portable radio Anna placed on the coffee table.

Gojo sat there, his legs spread out, an elbow on each knee as he rubbed at his mouth, eyes distant, lost, as he stared at nothing.

You could only imagine how he feels. No matter the sorrow you felt, he felt it tenfold. You’d only known them for a couple of months, a year at most, but he’d known them their entire lives. His shoulders sunk as if the guilt he was feeling was already pushing down on him.

Even though you didn’t know much about Emi, the hurt he carried from her was visible and inevitable. You didn’t know just how much something like this would change him if he’d ever forgive himself if something were to happen to them.

You cleared your throat, not able to bear it anymore as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Despite whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for getting us out. I don’t think I could have walked, let alone fought, so…thanks.” You address Gojo, watching as Anna nodded in agreement, shooting him a smile that quickly died down when she saw his face.

He dropped his hands, his eyes shining with a different sort of gleam as you took a step back, your brows and eyes squinting at the odd look.

“Vera and Geto might be dead. They might be dead because I was too fucking scared to stay and do anything to help. We don’t know where the fuck we are… and you’re thanking me?”

You stuttered, confused as you shared a glance with Anna as she slowly moved from her seat.

“I-I, well, I’m not trying to undermine what they did,” Your head tilted, your voice gentle, knowing that he was surely dealing with every possible ounce of guilt and anger under the moon right now, wishing you just stayed quiet. But you’d already opened your mouth so you had to continue, “I’m just saying thanks because you helped us. That’s all-”

“Help,” He repeated, giving an emotionless laugh as he stood up, shaking his head as his hair followed his every movement, “I ran away. I didn’t help.”

“‘Toru, she’s right, just - just calm down, come on,” Anna interjected, her eyes darting from him to you, offering you an apologetic smile on his behalf.

“She has no idea what she’s talking about. Fuck,” His voice broke, looking away as he tried to wipe his tears, “It’s like….” He didn’t finish but you knew he was going to say It’s like Emi, judging from the way Anna tried to comfort him.

“You’re,” You said slowly, not wanting to anger him any more than he already was, “You’re right. Most of the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I understand, and I know it’s not easy and-”

“You know? You know? Fuck y/n, what do you know? What could possibly make you understand?” You’ve never seen him like this, never had the honor of having his words cut you, sawing at your skin until they made you bleed.

You scoffed, not knowing if he was being serious, but he stared at you waiting for an answer.

“Let me see,” You give a meaningless laugh, wiping at your eyes, trying your best to not cry in front of him, not wanting to show him that his words didn’t affect you the way that they truly did, “I thought I was allowed to understand after my dad killed himself. Or maybe it was when my friend tried to kill me because I ate her fucking can of tuna,” You paused, choking on a sob, “O-or when my group left me in the middle of fucking nowhere, saying I was dead weight,” You sniffled, your voice wavering as you shook your head, pointing a finger at Gojo’s chest as you stared at his blank face.

“Just because you’ve been through shit doesn't mean that I haven’t. So - so don’t tell me that I don’t understand, because I do. It’s just, I don’t go treating people I know like shit just because of it.” A tear trickled down your cheek, hanging on your chin before it splattered on the ground.

Your chest heaved, hands trembling as you heard Anna mutter a muffled oh my god. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want any of their sympathies. But after so many years of carrying it around silently just for him to say that you don’t understand opened up the floodgates.

You went to say something else, opening your mouth before you shut it again, lips wobbling as you shook your head, ducking it as you made your way for the stairs. You tried to zone out Anna’s calls for you to come back as you found the room you assigned yourself and shut the door with a loud slam, rattling the house.

Anna came by, asking if you were hungry, but you just brushed her off, saying that you’d come down to eat later.

It was true, you couldn’t stomach anything right now, but you didn’t want to see anybody after that.

You paced around the room, doing anything to occupy your mind and get rid of the thoughts coursing through your head. You packed your bag, which wasn’t even yours, you wanted to guess that in the rush of leaving you accidentally packed Geto’s because yours sure as hell didn’t have a pack of cigarettes and condoms in it, (you’d put all your money on the fact that him and Vera were hooking up), unpacked, and re-packed it. You folded some clothes lying around, washed your face with the water from the bottles you found, and tried to freshen up. Your eyes were still a little puffy and red, but you knew it would go away quickly.

You looked through the closet and did anything you could think of. You didn’t really have the heart to take anything, knowing that somebody cared for these things at one point, but you snooped around, having nothing better to do.

From what you could deduce, a teenager probably lived in the room. Band posters were plastered on the walls, the bed had some stuffed animals still left on it. You could remember the initial broadcast saying to take only what was necessary, so it made sense why the closet was mainly empty but the other aspect of the room seemed untouched.

You looked at some of the books they had, pulling them out of the shelves as you read the titles. Some you knew, some you didn’t. The window adjacent to the bookshelf showed you an outside view of the neighborhood, the moon shining bright as you relied on that and your flashlight to move around.

As you went to put a book back you heard a knock at your door, startling you as you dropped the book on the ground. You grumbled in annoyance, glancing at it and then back to your book.

“I’m still not hungry,” You called out, bending down to grab it as you sighed, “But thanks,” You put it back where it was, wiping at your face as you navigate around the bed, going to open the door to let her in, “Hey, have you heard anything from…” You trailed off, not expecting to see a taller figure in Anna’s place.

You met his eyes, the same ones that managed to knock the air out of your lungs. His gaze softened upon the sight of your face, but you wouldn’t let that dictate your feelings. No, you refused. So instead, you quickly gathered yourself, squinting your eyes as you went to shut the door, not quick enough as he was able to wedge his foot in between, whimpering a bit as you still tried to slam it shut with it in the way.

“Ow, fuck, wait,” His hand gripped the side of the door, and you rolled your eyes, sniffing once as you let him open it himself, knowing that he’d just find another way inside if you blocked this one, “Listen,” He invited himself in, a hint of pleading in his voice as he looked at you, “Anna got Vera’s message. They're,” He sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit, “They’re fine. Little shakin’ up, but they’re gonna be okay. Said to meet up with them at the camp.”

Your eyes and mouth slightly opened, your anger with him disappearing for a second as you smiled softly to yourself.

“That’s great,” You breathed out, not knowing how to handle this, almost all the stress leaving your bones as you gave yourself a moment to relax, “Great news.” You gave him a curt smile, glancing at the door, wondering if that was all he came here for.

His eyes traveled from your face, stalling on your puffy lids as he slightly grimaced. He looked around the room, noting all the décor, posters, and memorabilia. You could tell he was struggling to find something to say, opening his mouth only to close it just as quickly.

“Thanks for letting me know,” You start, your hands hovering over his chest as you try to push him out, “But I wanna be by myself right now, so…” You nodded to the door, waiting for him to get the hint and go.

“Are you leaving?” He asked suddenly, his brows furrowed, creasing down the middle as glanced at your face at your packed bag behind you. You saw his lips trembling, hands moving up to gently cup your elbows, almost as if he needed to, or else he’d crumble over.

“What?” You look back confused as to what he was talking about, shaking your head, “I was jus-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, so so sorry sweetheart, I swear, I d-didn’t know you went t-through all that shit,” His voice cracked, his legs moving faster than his body as you backed up against the bed, alarmed at his sudden change in mood, “Even if I did, I-I should never have said that to you. I’m so fucking sorry, please, I didn’t mean anything I said. I was talkin’ out of my ass and being the biggest fuckin’ dick ever.” Gojo’s voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears as you almost tripped, glad the bed was behind you as you fell onto it, the springs squeaking at the sudden movement.

You watched as a giant of a man sank to his knees, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest as his eyes watered, his lip wobbling as he almost pleaded for you to look at him and to hear what he was trying to say.

“Look, I’m really, really sorry,” He crouched down, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “Please don't leave. I’ll shut up for the rest of the way there and you’ll never-”

“I’m not leaving,” You say with a small laugh, confusion laced in your voice, “I was bored so I packed. ‘S not even my bag, think I got Geto’s or Vera’s on accident.” You shrugged as you watched his face change. Morphing as he shut his mouth, his hands still trembling as realization washed over him, slowly only leaving embarrassment.

“Really?” He asked, still not letting go of your hands you nodded slowly, heart beating rapidly in your rib cage as you waited for him to say something else.

“Oh...” He the relief on his face is replaced with something different, “Okay,” He took in a deep breath, slowly letting go of your hands as he looked at the floor, some of his hair falling in his face as he finally looked back up, giving you a small apologetic smile, “Sorry, I didn’t…” He couldn’t finish, moving quickly to stand up, mumbling something to himself as he went for the door, stopping seconds before he opened it.

“‘Toru?”

His fingers danced over the doorknob, not turning back despite his every nerve telling him to look back at you. But deep down, he knew that if he did, it would all come crumbling down. That the wall he built so highly for himself would crack, and he’d have to face the realization that he cared for you. Cared so deeply for you that seeing your face, your eyes puffy from crying because of his words would be worse than if a scolding knife was to pierce his heart. Because no matter how hard he tried to convince his feeble mind that you didn’t matter to him, you did, and he could no longer hide behind a mask and pretend that you didn’t.

“Now that I think about it I think you would have made a shit doctor.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest as you watch him turn around, his lips red, looking like he’d been repeatedly chewing on it.

His hand fell from the doorknob, taking three quick steps to get back to where you were, his hands quickly going up to hold your face, eyes scanning yours as if waiting for you to say anything. But you couldn’t, not with the way he was staring at you. He always did a spectacular job of whisking your words away from a single glance.

“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his nose almost touching yours as your hands traveled slowly up his back, feeling your heart beating in your throat, “Whenever I see your face,” His thumb runs over the corner of your mouth, eyes falling on your lips, “I don’t what to do. And then you open your mouth and I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry o-or kiss you. And,” He sighed, a hand going behind your head so that you could look up at him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without your gorgeous face, your pretty eyes, your laugh, your kind, kind heart. I’ll spend a fucking lifetime making up for all the shit I’ve done if it means you’d forgive me.” He was a breath away from your lips, if either one of you were to make a single movement it’d be over.

“Relax,” You say with a little laugh, your lashes fluttering on your cheek as you take a step back closer to the bed, “I’m not gonna make you grovel or anything. But if you’re offering something as forgiveness…” You trail off, not knowing how to word words as you push his head closer to yours. Your fingers play with his hair, tangling them back and forth to make little curls, your head moving on its own as you try not to give a stupid giddy smile.

He leans in, finally closing that pesky gap between the two of you as you let out a little gasp until you melt against his chest, slowly working your lips against his.

It’s hot, you don’t know how else to describe it. Weeks, months even, of pent-up tension are adding up here at this moment.

He’s so gentle when he cradles your face, afraid you’d crumble away if he held you with any more pressure. But his kiss is anything but, aggressive and fast, not wanting to slow down as he tried to commit the feel of you to memory.

He nips at your lips, now plumper and shiny with spit, pulling away slightly as he cradles his face to yours. His hands tug you into his body, cradling your jaw as he smiles, his eyes lidded as he looks down at you.

Your hands are on his chest, slightly tugging at it as his smile grows, his cheeks all blushed out as you giggle, somewhat intoxicated by the feel of him. You’d imagine what he’d be like, sure, but the way he kissed or looked at you was nothing your imagination could have ever conjured up.

“Swear to god, if I ever say stupid shit you slap me, okay? Knock some sense into me,” He muttered, holding your cheeks, looking at you as if you had strung up the moon and the stars, and you probably did if you told him so.

“‘M not gonna hit you, maybe just tell you some stupid puns till you realize what you’ve done.” You tease, watching as his head disappeared, your laugh turning into a muted moan as he licks a stripe across the expanse of your throat, gently biting down on your pulse point as he soothed it with a sloppy kiss.

“‘Toru,” You can get out, collapsing on the bed as he gingerly pushes you onto it, feeling lightheaded as you watch him kiss down your arms, your hands, any area of naked skin he could find. It was exhilarating the way his lips felt on your skin.

“You ‘wanna take that shirt off f’me?” He muttered, hands traveling up your stomach, nimble fingers dancing under the cup of your bra, “Or d’you want me to stop?” He’s slow and patient as you quickly shake your head, already getting to work at shedding off anything stopping him as he chuckles slowly, the sound just causing you to grow even wetter. You expertly unhook your bra from your chest, watching as it falls down into your lap, suddenly aware that your top half is fully bare to him.

But he doesn’t say anything, his body almost malfunctioning at the sight of your bare tits. You almost go to cover them, conscious of his heavy stare, but he gently grabs your wrists, pushing them aside as he moves closer to you, his breath hitting your collarbone as he stifled a groan.

“Fuck,” He says, not even fully paying attention as he quite literally goggles at your breast, his fingers tugging at your nipples, thumbing at them until they’re slightly swollen, letting his hands run over them as he feels his cock straining in his pants, “S-shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He whispers, glancing up at you only to see your head thrown back, finger grasping his as you try to make him work faster, pushing them down to the buttons of your jeans as he chuckles, patting your waist once as if to tell you he understands.

He gets to work, quickly getting them off of you, your underwear with it, eyes darkening as he notes your slick between your two puffy lips, gripping onto your thigh with every possible amount of self-restraint he has.

“If you don’t hurry up I’ll just tell you a bad pun n-now to get it over with. Fuck just - just touch me already!” You threaten, glaring at him as he snorts, fingers traveling up to cup your cunt as you suddenly gasp, your teasing tone dropping at the euphoric sensation.

“Where?” His thumb slowly rubs at your clit, using some of your slick as he goes at his own pace, enjoying how you paw at his biceps, gripping onto them with every ounce of strength you could muster, “Here?” He asks, using two fingers to pry your pussy lips apart, nearly coming in his pants as he did so.

“This what you want, sweetheart?” He asks, his pointer finger traveling up your slit, gathering all of your wetness as he groans, slowly pushing it in, testing your limits as you let out a wanton moan at the feeling.

“Yes, yes!” You cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. He doesn’t need to be told twice to know that you’d probably wring him out to dry if he doesn’t pick up his pace.

But he wants to be slow, not wanting to hurt you as he pushes it in, inch by inch, until he curls it, your eyes rolling back, holding onto his wrist for dear life as you wait to adjust to it.

“F-feels so good, hmm!” You squeal, your lips barely opening as he pushes the second one in, your words cut off by another moan, whining for him to go faster. You’ve been deprived for so long that you can’t even feel embarrassed at the needy way you yearn for him and his skilled fingers and touch.

You’ve only ever been with one guy before, and he knew nothing about the female antonymy so you don’t really have much to compare him to, but Gojo knew what he was doing. He listened to your every sound, noting which places made your toes curl and eyes cross, becoming more and more familiar with your body. His white hair fell into his face as he paid attention to you, glancing up at your face every now and then to smile, wanting to make sure that you were okay.

“Yeah? You’re squeezin’ me so much, fuck,” He starts pumping them in and out, the motion enough to make you go crazy, whining out pathetically as he picks up the pace a little bit, his thumb going to find you, “This pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, fuck, and she’s mine, y’hear?” He asks, only pumping into you faster, his thumb on your clit mirroring his ministrations as you cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting to be so loud that your cries could travel through the walls.

“F-fuck, just yours! Promise!” You say, agreeing to anything he said, babbling nonsense as you feel your stomach clench, your back arching as he takes in the beautiful sight of you sprawled out like this, wanting to take a mental image to commit it to heart.

“Hmm, ‘Toru, I’m gonna, fuck, gonna…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, mewling at the way his relentless motions never stopped.

It’s only a couple of seconds before you cry out, his other hand clamping to your mouth to muffle your moans, seeing white as you fall back onto the mattress, your chest heaving with every breath you take as your orgasm runs through your body. It was the most intense thing you’ve ever felt, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you creamed around them, your legs shaking as you moaned out his name.

He stops, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he watches you struggle to catch your breath.

“So fuckin’ stunning,” He says under his breath, bringing his fingers shining with your essence up to his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes fluttering shut at your tangy taste, “Taste amazing too, sweetheart.” He takes his fingers out of his mouth, crawling up to your body, tapping on your lips so that they’d open. He pressed his fingers on your tongue, watching as you sucked on them, your eyes never leaving his. He moans, taking them out before he almost embarrasses himself by coming on the spot.

But he stops when he feels his pants tighten around his crouch, wincing because he clearly didn’t think this through enough. His dicks feels like a heavyweight in his pants, and he can feel the strain.

“What?” You sit up, worry lacing your features as you balance on your elbows, “What’s wrong?” You're now freaking out inside, thinking that he’s starting to regret this, or that he was drunk off the euphoria and now the realization is settling in.

“I don’t have a condom, and the only ones were in-”

“Geto’s bag?” You say with a chortle, pointing your chin at where the said bag was sitting, “Yeah, I know.”

Gojo chuckles, patting your cheek as he presses a kiss to your lips, almost not wanting to break away as he tastes everything on them. The chapstick you put on that morning, the chocolate he gave you. Fuck, he can even taste your cum on them, and you have to give his chest a little nudge so that he doesn’t forget what he was going to do.

He’s agile as he goes through the pockets, almost doing good at shedding off his clothes, grinning in triumph when he finally locates the pack. It gives you some time to really take in his features, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes rake over his torso, his defined chest that shines with sweat. You try your hardest not to linger longer on his dick, your mouth going dry at the sheer length of it. Despite him prepping you just a few minutes ago you still wondered how you’d be able to take him.

“If you stare any harder you’re gonna make me blush.” He says, smirking as you discover you’ve been caught in the act. But the way he laughs boyishly at you quickly looking away makes up for it.

“If you weren’t so pretty I wouldn’t be staring.” You counter, tracking him as he makes his way back to the bed, ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth as you swallow, moving so that your head rests on the board behind you as he grinned.

“Me?” He cocks a brow, taking a couple of seconds to put the condom on his dick, his mushroom tip leaking with pre as she sucks in a breath at the feeling, hoping he wouldn’t nut too fast and embarrass himself when he was finally in you, “I’m gonna need you to take a hard, long look in the mirror then sweetheart.”

You giggle, your eyes wrinkling around the edges as your cheeks glow. He moves above you, his own face plastered with a goofy smile at the sound of your laughter. He’d bottle it up if he could, save it for the days when he really needed to hear it.

“No! I really mean it, you’re like, so fuckin’ hot, liked unbelievably hot.” You smile as he pecks your lips, grinning against his as he shakes his head in adorable defiance.

“And I really mean it too,” He counters, his nose pressed against yours as you can’t help but bring him in for another kiss, your tongues meeting each other as he laps up your taste, kissing you so harshly that it knocked the wind right out of your lungs.

When he pulls away a line of spit is connecting your lips to each other. Yours are swollen, almost bruised, but you welcome the slight sting, knowing what it was all for. After all, his are swollen and pink, so you slowly became drunk at the sight of it.

His eyes travel to your tits and down to your stomach, gripping your waist as he kisses your collarbone, his hand gingerly rubbing up and down your skin, causing goosebumps to lie in their wake.

He lined himself up with your entrance, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his tip prod at your walls, and he groaned at the feeling, only imagining what it’d be like when he finally pushes through.

“J-just fuck me already,” You whisper, your words circling through the two of you, “Please.” You add, and he shakes his head, knowing you’d never have to ask him when your honeyed words drove him to a near point of insanity.

“Don’t have to beg sweetheart,” He says, pushing himself fully in, the two of you moaning out loud at the feeling.

You clamp down tightly on his dick, and despite him going in as slowly as you could he could feel you clenching around him. Your walls stretched to accommodate his size, and the slight pinch mixed with the godly feeling of having him fill you up almost caused you to pass out.

“Shit,” He can barely get it to pass his lips, finally bottoming out in your as your legs circle around his back, pulling him closer to your sweaty body as he places a hand near your head for leverage, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, squeezing me like that.”

“Mmm, s’cause you’re so b-big,” You whine out, your nails raking down his back, leaving angry red lines. He stills, clenching his teeth as he tries to calm down, slowly pulling out before he slammed back into you.

“Fuck!” You moan, holding onto his waist as he pistons into you, his dick shining with a mix of your own cum and wetness, glimmering in the limited light the moon offered.

His hips slanted against yours, balls hitting your ass as he moved fast, like something in him just snapped, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. His dick could reach that part in you that just made you see stars, hitting it repeatedly until you swore your back could take it.

“Oh, god, you feel so fuckin’ good, fuckkk,” He drawls out, his head falling into the crook of your neck, panting as his hands curled in the sheets, “You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me sweetheart,” He moaned against you, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he could. He trailed down your collarbone, all the way until he suckled on your breasts, pulling away so that he could give each equal attention. They glimmered with his spit, your areolas swollen from his constant motions.

“Umph, ‘Toru, s’too much, o-oh!” You cried, the new angle he was at reaching even further and you questioned just how empty it was before him. He dragged through your walls, his thumb down at your clit, rubbing little circles as your eyes shut, too heavy with lust and you couldn’t even look down anymore, gripping onto his arms to stay afloat.

“Just like that, perfect,” He talked you through it, one hand on your tit, the other busy with your clit, looking down to see his dick disappearing inside of you, going feral when he watched you becoming undone because of him, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for m-me, y’know that right?” And you dumbly nodded, not able to speak, unintelligible words tumbling out of your mouth instead.

You didn’t expect your release to build up so quickly just after you had your last one, but Gojo was too good, an expert in knowing what places would scratch you in just the right way. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your legs wrapping around him as you pulled him in even closer, tilting your head up so you could bring him in for another wet kiss.

“M’gonna, fuck ‘Toru, m’gonna…” But you couldn’t finish, moaning against his lips as you came on his dick, his thumb not slowing down on your little nub as your legs shake from the feeling, eyes crossing as he smiles at the way you clamp down on him.

“There you go, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna,” He tries to slow down but he can't, “Shit, shit, shit,” He stops, shooting his load into the condom as his hips stop, his chest heaving manically as he almost collapses onto your chest, your tits pressing against him as he takes a second to catch his breath.

The two of you can’t say anything, your hands wrapped tightly around his neck as you try to loosen up your body, your hair damp, the room stinking of sex and sweat as you try to come back to your senses.

It doesn’t even feel real, but you watch through hooded eyes as he rises, pulling out of you as his dick hangs limp. He tugs the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he ties it, chucking it at a trash can he found near the desk as he looks back at you, giving you that same debonair smile that still managed to make your heart race despite everything.

You throw a hand over your face, trying to hide it as he chuckles, giving your hips a firm squeeze as he kisses the side of your ear.

“I’ll be back, gonna get you some water ‘n clothes.” He says, tugging on his pants as he throws on his shirt laying across the floor, not bothering with any boxers as he winks at you, chuckling at the way you groan in embarrassment, tugging the covers over your naked body as if he hadn’t just seen you in your birthday suit.

“And bring me some chocolate!” You call out, peeking your head out as he nods, shutting the door behind him as you look around, still trying to fathom what just happened.

He reappears minutes later, one of his tees in hand, and a bottle with a bar in the other. He makes do with cleaning you up with a towel he found, wetting it with some water as he gently rubs it over your sensitive skin, apologizing when you wince, kissing the spots that are still tender.

You're almost tapped out, too tired to see the lovesick look in his eyes when he pulls the shirt over your chest, laying you back down on the pillows as he rubs at your forehead, thanking his lucky stars for being able to see you look like this; so carefree and happy.

There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you tug on his hand, not doing much work as you pull him closer to you. Although the bed wasn’t made to accommodate more than one person, he’d be damned if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

“Did you watch Star Wars?” You ask sleepily, holding his hands as you play with his fingers, hearing him snort at the fact that you were still keeping this up. But you still wanted to make him pay, even if he just gave you two of the most earth-shattering orgasms you’ve ever received.

“Used to, why?” He turns you over so you could face him, bringing up one of his fingers so that he could carefully trace out your features.

“‘Cause Yoda only one f’me.” You barely get out, giving a little giggle as he pretends to hate it, still kissing your cheek as you slink against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart lulling you to sleep.

He follows you shortly after, his soft snores filling the room as you two sleep soundly. But in the dark, before he lets the sleep take a hold of him, he promises himself that he’d never let you go. He’d take you to Takayama, or wherever the fuck was necessary to keep you safe. He wouldn’t let you cry again, wouldn’t want to see the tears that stained your cheeks because he swore he’d never been in such pain seeing you like that. You were his other half, and no amount of cheesy puns, terrible jokes, or loving questions was going to change that fact. Because he knew that once he held the world in his arms he wouldn’t trade any fucking thing to let it go.

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crazerk · 3 months ago

Text

Just wanted to share a snippet from the update. I’m experimenting with POV switches and it’s kinda long cause I don’t know how to not ramble even if there was a gun pointed at my head.

It’s still unfinished, and unpolished as I’ll be adding character specific details and editing and whatnot later, or maybe cutting the entire scene altogether. But anyway please enjoy :)

Also it contains some SPOILERS.

Valide Zarayan reclined on plush silk cushions, her eyes scanning the crowd with razor-sharp focus. To the casual observer, she appeared the picture of regal serenity - her elaborately coiffed hair adorned with glittering jewels, her gown a masterpiece of embroidery and precious stones. But beneath that placid exterior, a storm brewed.

Her gaze inevitably returned to her son, seated at the head of the gathering. He was resplendent in robes of deep sapphire blue, the imperial crown glinting atop his dark curls. He looked like his father in certain lights, the same firm set to his jaw, the same commanding presence.

Yet something in his bearing gave her pause. There was a tightness around his eyes, a slight tension in the set of his shoulders that only a mother would notice.

"More wine, Your Majesty?" A servant approached, crystal decanter in hand.

Khazunef nodded absently, barely glancing at the man as his goblet was refilled. His eyes remained fixed on the troupe of performers twirling before him - acrobats and fire-eaters whose daring flips drew gasps of awe from the assembled courtiers. But Zarayan could see that her son's applause was courteous at best, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

She leaned in close, pitching her voice low. "Is something troubling you, my son? You seem... distracted."

Khazunef's gaze flickered to her briefly before returning to the spectacle before them. "Not at all, mother. The feast is magnificent, as always. You've outdone yourself."

His tone was polite, but there was an underlying coolness that made Zarayan's heart clench. Gone was the bright-eyed boy who had once delighted in such pageantry. In his place sat a man burdened by the weight of an empire.

"The High Priest has predicted favorable omens," Khazunef continued, a hint of genuine relief coloring his words. "And I've received word that the drought in the Western provinces is finally abating."

Zarayan seized the opportunity, raising her voice just enough to be overheard by the nearby nobles. "How delightful. It seems the gods themselves smile upon your reign, my son. Truly, you bring peace and prosperity to our people."

A chorus of sycophantic agreement rose from the surrounding courtiers. Goblets were raised in toast to their young Shah's wisdom and benevolence. Khazunef acknowledged them with a regal nod, but Zarayan could see the way his fingers tightened imperceptibly around the stem of his cup.

She waited for the murmur of conversation to rise once more before leaning in close, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Perhaps this bounty is a sign, my dear. The perfect time to think about securing the future of our dynasty. A family of your own..."

The change was instant. Khazunef's posture stiffened, his jaw clenching as he took a long pull of wine. When he finally spoke, his words were clipped. "The empire's needs are many, mother. My personal affairs can wait."

Zarayan felt a familiar surge of frustration, then anger. Did he not understand the precariousness of their position? The blood that had been spilled to place him on that throne? She wanted to shake him, to make him see reason. But instead she merely inclined her head, a placid smile masking the turmoil within.

"Of course, my son. I only wish for your happiness and the continued strength of our bloodline."

Khazunef waved a dismissive hand. "This is a celebration. I'll hear no more of it."

Zarayan stifled a sigh, biting back a sharp retort. He was as stubborn as ever. She nearly forgot how much he acted like his father as well. She would simply have to find another way to make him see reason.

For now, she would allow him his reprieve. She settled back against the cushions, her smile fixed in place even as her mind raced.

Her thoughts drifted to the past, to a laughing boy with curious eyes who would pepper her with endless questions about the world. Her sweet, happy boy who’s joy she took solace in.

That boy was gone now, replaced by this distant man who wore the crown like a millstone. Zarayan knew the cruelties of court life had shaped him, hardened him. The incident with his brothers – a necessary evil, she reminded herself – had left scars deeper than she had anticipated.

It had to be done, she thought, pushing down the flicker of regret.

If only her son would see that.

A figure in richly embroidered robes approached, bowing low before the royal dais.

"Your Imperial Majesty! Your most gracious Valide!" The man's voice dripped with honeyed flattery. "What a magnificent celebration! Truly, the Sharazad court outshines all others in its splendor."

Zarayan recognized him as Vizier Mahmus, an ambitious climber whose family had only recently risen to prominence. She watched as Khazunef's demeanor shifted, the mask of the implacable ruler sliding seamlessly into place.

"We are pleased you find it to your liking, Vizier," Khazunef replied, his tone coolly cordial. "Tell me, how fare the trade negotiations with the merchant guild?"

As the two men fell into discussion of matters of state, Zarayan allowed her attention to drift.

A peal of silvery laughter caught her ear, and she turned to see Empress Yaris holding court amidst a cluster of fawning noblemen. The woman was undeniably beautiful, her pale skin luminous in the lantern light, her auburn hair adorned with emeralds and gold. But it was the man at her side that made Zarayan's eyes narrow dangerously.

Parvis, Khazunef's uncle, leaned in close to whisper something in Yaris' ear. The Empress' eyes danced with mirth, and she placed a hand on his arm in a gesture that was far too familiar for Zarayan's liking.

The fool did not pull away, no. Parvis placed a possessive hand on the small of Yaris' back, his touch lingering a fraction too long. Zarayan's lip curled in disgust

Parvis had long been a thorn in her side, his influence over her son growing with each passing day. With Khazunef's reluctance to sire an heir, Parvis' ambitions were clear. The man was a snake, and his ambition would be their downfall if left unchecked.

She turned back to her son, who had finally extricated himself from the Vizier's obsequious chatter. "Khazunef," she murmured, careful to keep her voice low. "Perhaps it is time you reminded your wife of the proper decorum expected of an Empress. Her behavior with your uncle is... unseemly."

Khazunef followed her gaze, his expression hardening as he took in the intimate scene. But to Zarayan's surprise, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth

"You think my uncle has designs on my wife?" he asked, an odd note of amusement in his tone.

"Perhaps not," Zarayan huffed. "But it is unseemly, regardless."

Khazunef seemed unconcerned, taking another sip of his wine. "Perhaps," he murmured. "But I would not interfere. See how they amuse one another? It keeps them out of my way."

The casual dismissal stung Zarayan more deeply than she cared to admit, as well as the complacency of her son. They were not simply amusing each other. They could be planning his death while he sat there, unconcerned. It seemed that her son had blinders when it came to his personal affairs.

She could not stop the words that escaped her lips, sharp as a dagger's edge. "Do you think a capable ruler would neglect the state of his own household? How can you hope to govern an empire when you allow such blatant disrespect under your own roof?"

Her son froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously. In the dim light he looked like his father again, matching scowls and all. For the briefest of moments Zarayan was Celaena again, in the presence of her tempestuous husband who was about to strike her.

But her son did not strike her. Instead he took a slow, measured breath. The resemblance to his father faded as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a mask of imperial calm. When he spoke, his voice was low and controlled, but edged with steel.

"Mother," he said, leaning in close to ensure their conversation remained private, "I appreciate your concern, misplaced as it is. But I will not discuss this matter further, especially not here." His eyes flicked meaningfully towards the nearby courtiers. "I suggest you retire for the evening if you cannot maintain proper decorum."

He straightened in his seat, adjusting his robes with practiced nonchalance.

Zarayan bit back the words that rose in her throat, her mind racing. How could she make him understand? His personal affairs were the concern of the entire empire when it came to his lack of heirs.

She opened her mouth to speak when a familiar figure materialized at her elbow.

"Your Majesty, most esteemed Valide," Orgion, the Chief Eunuch, bowed low. "The new concubines are ready to be presented, as you requested."

Zarayan saw the anger still simmering Khazunef's eyes, his jaw tightening as he glared at Orgion.

"I do not recall making such a request, Chief Eunuch."

Zarayan seized the opportunity to change the subject, forcing lightness into her tone. "Ah yes, how forgetful of me. Khazunef, I hope you don't mind that I've taken this liberty. Your harem is still rather... sparse for a man of your station."

She watched her son carefully, noting the way his jaw clenched again at the reminder of his neglected duties. But he said nothing, merely taking another sip of wine. She gestured for Orgion to continue.

The portly eunuch beamed, practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh, Your Majesty, you will be most pleased! Such beauty, such grace - truly, they are jewels fit for an emperor's crown!"

Khazunef's cool gaze settled on Orgion, and the man's effusive praise died in his throat. He stammered to a halt, mopping his brow nervously.

"If you are quite finished, show me these marvelous women, that we might continue our feast."

Orgion bowed so low he nearly toppled over, then scurried away to make the necessary arrangements. Zarayan allowed herself a small smile of triumph, sending a silent prayer to the gods that this would be the catalyst needed to spark her son's interest in matters of the harem.

#cotgr #snippet #i like writing the Valide #she’s such a boy mom

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saint-ajax · 11 months ago

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Phantom Of The Sea

THE ONLY DAUGHTER OF POSEIDON AND Aphrodite was Sierra. She inherited her mother’s ethereal beauty and as her father was the God of Sea, she could live in the deepest ocean there is. She was a product of mistakes and everyone in Olympus knew that. It may be one of the reasons why the Olympians look at her differently. None of the children wanted to make friends with her, and almost all her life she was treated miserably. But the Goddess of Warfare was the only soul who had a soft heart and kindness to the poor child. So as Sierra grew, she was clandestinely taught how to fight. She grew to be a brave lady with an astonishing beauty you can not deny. She was so beautiful that her mother, the Goddess of beauty and love, discovered a covetous jealousy that possessed her to banish her own daughter from her palace and sent her to her father to live in the sea. Sierra left Olympus with her heart filled with anger, hatred, and rage built ever since she was a child.

In her life under the deepest and darkest sea, she found light in her enchanting voice and grace. At one point, she discovered that the sound and sight of her can seduce mortals, men, women, and… Gods. Ever since she was a child, she was clueless about what she was given to rule, what she was destined to be a God of, but now in her new home, her lustrous scales gave her an idea. She was the Goddess of Sirens.

Her heart was painted in anger and it pushed her to use her assets to seduce mortals who dared to sail, bring them to her cave, and decide their time of death. This continued for almost an eternity, thousands of humans tried to find and catch the infamous killer of the sea but none of them succeeded in passing her deceitful seducing mirage.

One morning, in one of her favorite islands where no one lives but silence, her paradise, where she goes to pass the time, had a living breathing mortal out of nowhere. The stranger was a rugged man in a veil. His mask seemed to be a skull of a being. And this awakened Sierra’s interest. It paused her plans to make that man her meal. From the corner of the island where she wouldn’t be seen by the young man, she eyed him in serenity. She watched how he walked by the shore in the morning and witnessed his sailing whenever the sunset. Her former annoyance of him vanished, whereupon the peacefulness of the island remained even with his presence.

One afternoon, Sierra’s curiosity got the best of her, and entertained the idea of approaching the boy’s boat without him looking. Her sneaking exposed her to silver and brass apparatus. Her attention was focused on a piece of silverware with four pointed edges. In a quick move, she swam deep with the material in hand. Back in her cave, after staring for hours at it, she ended up using it to untangle her silk hair. Meanwhile, the young man’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to why the calm water moved, but his focus was quickly diverted to his missing fork.

The next day when he sailed, his fork came back out of nowhere with shiny pearls. Confusion built in his mind as he set them aside. Several exchanges of the moon and sun passed and their dance continued in its own rhythm. In every missing silver, comes back with newfound pearls. Whenever it was time to close the day, there was a mortal and a goddess watching without knowing the other knew about their presence.

He could afford to build a castle with the amount of pearls he earned, he thought. At long last, he then decided to wait and catch the thief and returner of his belongings.

He kept an eye on his ship and the body of water as the sun ended its reign, and by the time daylight covered the scene, the fairest woman he had ever laid his sight on made an appearance that surprised both companies. Their opposite-tinted orbs met. Once she realized that he saw her, she vanished out of thin air. She went back to her pitch-black nature. While he tried to chase her with his eyes, his confusion unfortunately froze him in his spot and he did nothing but let and watch her leave.

The young man’s night became devoted to debating and thinking about whether it was a mermaid he saw. If he was in fact correct, he would be rewarded by the King if he ever brought them into their hands. The night went by and afterglow arrived once again, he found himself in his usual spot waiting for the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Meanwhile, Sierra purposely showed up, she was testing what would be the mortal’s reaction to her presence. If he dares to make the wrong move, then there would be a siren singing that night.

But silence joined salt air when they finally saw each other. Their eyes lingered on one another until the young man decided to shatter the deafening silence between them.

"When shall you be returning my silverware, fair lady?”

The masculine man’s first words to her left her dazed. She could sense no fear as he stared directly at her radiant orbs and it only blossomed her curiosity of the man. When the fair lady did not respond, he tried once again.

“Are you heedless that thy actions as stealing are pondered as a crime you shall be responsible for?”

Her eyebrows lifted at his statement, and she enchanted him by simply speaking.

“I committed no crime when I intended to restore your taken treasure, and in truth, gave back more than I took.”

“Capturing an object that is not thy possession without permission is known as stealing which is a crime.”

The young man noticed that her eyes were focused on his neck, where his pendant of identification hangs from his service as a remarkable knight lieutenant for the King. When she pointed at it, he immediately disapproved by shaking his head.

“I vow to return your fortune.” She swears.

“I’m afraid that's not happening.” He declines.

“I advise you to trade it for gold.”

“You heard me the first time, my lady.”

“Sierra.” She received only a hum of acknowledgment from the young man. “And you are..?”

“Ghost.” He made her smile. And all of a sudden he couldn’t look away from her blinding beauty.

“You are a mortal named ‘Ghost’?” He confirmed with a nod as she released a contagious laugh.

Ever since the mortal and the goddess met, they didn’t realize that they deliberately pledged time to spend together to capture the last gasp of beauty before the death of the day perpetually.

Sierra even sang for Ghost once without any incantation and what he could only utter was,

“You are a Goddess I would worship for eternity, Sierra.”

While she only responded with a mischievous sly grin.

Like a usual afternoon, Sierra and Ghost were letting one another read chapters of their life.

“Ghost.. Was the designated name for me when I performed my duties as a Lieutenant for the King.”

“Lieutenant.. Ghost?” She fathomed in fascination. “If so.. Then ’Ghost’ is not your true name?”

He hummed to confirm. That had put a frown on her face when she perceived the truth of the lack of trust he had for her by the simplicity of giving his birth name. Ghost took notice of her sudden silence, therefore, he tried to check up on her, but she was quicker to notice that he saw what was happening with her thus she proceeded to speak before him to cut him off.

“Oh, I nearly forgot to caution you to be careful..there is a forthcoming storm.”

His brows knitted at her change of topic. “It shall be as you say.” She nodded at his response. And when she prepared to swim away, he tried to stop her.

“Am I bound to hope that we shall meet again?”

“Fate shall know… Ghost.”

She purposely weighed his name before vanishing to the depths of sea.

When the moon wielded the night, Sierra’s oath came to life. Gigantic waves dominated the sea, heavy drops of rain demolished, and it was pure rage the wind and lighting proclaimed. Inside his sanctuary, there was no distress, no terror of the storm from Ghost but worry for the lady who was recently trapped in his labyrinth. He was worried for the mermaid who lived below the light and kept him on the edge of his seat the whole night. But the reign of moon finally ended yet all he could think about was her safety, her situation, if she was harmed or hopefully spent the night safely.

Soon the king of light rose from the horizon, chirps of birds echoed along the calm wind and the sea was now at ease. A quiet knock came from the door. He was puzzled as he reached to open the entrance and see whoever was at the other side.

The ground caught his jaw when the door gave sight of the Goddess on the other side. A captivating heavenly beauty stood familiar by heart, covered in peplos.

He was speechless, left in shock. He couldn’t believe a Goddess was standing right in front of his eyes. Luckily, a skull and clothing hid his face from the world.

“Pleasant morning, Ghost. I only arrived as I wish to be aware of your condition after the storm.”

Her soothing tone comforted the harmonic morning and it brought him back to reality. He came back to his senses when he realized it was Sierra who was the stunning ethereal lady standing in front of him.

“Sierra..”

“Ghost? Are you well?” She was starting to worry about his lack of response.

“Sierra.. How are you with feet? I was secured the whole night. I am grateful that you care. You are the one who shall be questioned of their well-being. Do come in.” He widened the space for her to enter.

“My pleasure. It is not necessary for you to worry about my health. I have experienced an even more terrible life in Olympus.”

“I guess so.. –Olympus?”

Sierra’s eyes widened when she realized what she had shared.

“I only casted my feet to know if you are well. Are you confident that you are?”

“You endangered yourself due to my being? Sierra, you are clueless of what you are doing. You shall come as I will take you back to your home.”

“You are home.”

“Stop being oblivious, Sierra. You would not desire to be with me, for I am not a nobleman.”

“I am certain that it is not an appalling atrocity.”

“I have taken hundreds of lives with my bare hands, Sierra.”

“I am aware. You are the Lieutenant for your King, did you not say?”

“Exactly.”

“Therefore?”

“You are the definition of pure and noble, Sierra. Your flawless skin.. your angelic eyes I could not find myself to look away from.. your luscious tail. In truth, you define perfection.”

“I have not heard of your true name nor have I seen the magnificent mortal behind the mask, Ghost. Thus, same as me, you have not dived into my pool of sins for you to be definite of my genuine self.”

“I am certain that it is not an appalling atrocity.”

When Ghost threw her own words at her, she couldn't hold it anymore.

“I behold such a fact that you are aware of my great love and care for you, Ghost. May whoever or whatever you have done.” Sierra held back tears before abandoning him speechless. And it was too late when he tried to run after her.

Days elapsed and Ghost sailed consistently to try and catch Sierra by the nightfall, the time of day they usually meet, hoping to ask for her forgiveness. But days evolved into weeks and it was beginning to feel as if there was no existence of the mermaid at all.

A mermaid who woke his long dead heart.

He was filled with great sorrow and regret in the days when there were no signs of Sierra.

Until one night, a miracle knocked on his door and made his heart beat crazy in hope of seeing Sierra once he opened the door. Heaven and earth entwined him when a different face of a goddess faced him.

“Are you the mortal known as ‘Ghost’?” Authority and bravery would be sensed on her tone of speaking.

“I am.” He responded.

“If you without a doubt care about the Goddess of Sirens, you are to come with me right this moment.”

“In what reasons would I care about the Goddess of Sirens?” Even if Ghost thought he had an idea who the lady was talking about, he didn't make it obvious.

“For the Goddess of Sirens who ruled the Sea is named.. Sierra.”

It was as if he was poured down with cold water with what he heard that he couldn't speak.

“You are nothing but a fool if you weren't aware of this truth. Cease this nonsense right this instance and save the Goddess from the verdict of Zeus.”

Athena made the former soldier do as told with her commanding tone. Ghost wasn't sure how they arrived at the sacred mountain of Olympus, but he was certain that it was Gods and Goddesses daggering him with looks full of judgment and studying his existence as if he wasn't meant to be there. And they were correct, he was just a mortal who had no right to be in the same place or even breathe the same air as God. But he did not have any time nor intended to self-pity, for this once caused him the sole reason of his being. Or in simpler words, the love of his life. The only soul who was ready to accept and love him for whoever or whatever he had done.

Proud yet emotionless was the face carved behind the mask of Ghost. He followed right behind Athena who stood and bowed to show respect to the throne of Zeus. One gesture of Zeus and Athena vanished from her position and stepped aside, leaving the center of attention to the only mortal in the room. Zeus flashed a taunting smirk when the mortal in front of him did not dare to break the eye contact it held with a God.

“A foolish and impudent mortal is the one you bring to save the Goddess of Sirens from death, Athena?!” He yelled, howled, and tore the noises they caused that made the whole stadium sit in silence.

Meanwhile, the Goddess of Warfare reacted as if she heard nothing, as if she wasn't yelled at by the God of all, she remained cold and unmoved while staring at nothing. Ghost had the exact same posture except his eyes widened when he took notice of the use of the word death in the same sentence with Sierra.

“Death.. ?” He could not hold back anymore and started asking, he badly wanted to know her situation. Is she okay? Has she eaten yet? Where was she? Is she in the middle of the sea waiting for him to sail? How he wished that their condition would always be as it was.

“Precisely. The daughter of Poseidon and Aphrodite shall be punished for unjust killings of thousands of mortals! men.. women.. And demigods.”

Ghost knew that taking one’s life is vile, wrong, evil. But he couldn’t force to stop the smile that was forming on his lips when he knew that the woman who owned his heart was the same as he was. Morally corrupt, rotten soul, sinful and ungodly, a killer. They were fit for each other.

“Yet.. the judgment can still be revoked..” All of a sudden, Ghost found a shed of light for just a split second when Zeus continued.

“If only she were to marry me.”

His closed fist tightened its grip on nothing when he heard those words. His anger boiled when he heard the condition of Sierra’s freedom from death. She was his. He would never let death nor any God or mortal take her away.

“Bring her out!” He demanded.

“Fool! And who did you think you are for anyone here to follow!?”

“Bring Sierra out!” The mortal wasn’t moved one bit and even had a higher tone in speaking to a god.

“Mortal!” Athena called out to Ghost to scold him for disrespecting.

The mocking laugh Zeus released thundered the entire domain as he gestured to one of the knights.

“You’re brave, Lieutenant.” An insulting smirk appeared on his lips while he sneered at Ghost, “I'll give you that.” obviously wanting him to know that he knew who he was.

“Summon the Goddess.” Zeus commanded calmly which the knights obeyed immediately. A few tense minutes went by and the sound of chains hitting the ground was starting to sound close by. Then the knights appeared surrounding the most beautiful goddess in the room. But there was something off with her. She looked lifeless. And as if a dog whose owner did not want her to bark, she had a dog muzzle. His heart of stone tore into a million pieces at the scene. He fought the urge to run and rip the rope securing her wrists and feet and pull her to his embrace.

But he became a statue as he took in her condition. She was pale, hollow-cheeked, as if she was starving for weeks. They forcedly sat her beside Zeus’ throne, as if she was the reigning Queen.

“Sierra..” He whispered weakly.

She slowly brought her gaze up to find the source of that familiar voice and found his warm eyes staring back at her. The eyes that calm her system down. She couldn’t do anything but squirm and persist to be free from being restrained. Her radiant eyes moistened from tears that begged to fall when she saw him. Weak and faint cries were heard from Sierra.

Ghost wasn’t able to hold it together anymore when her cries reached his ears. He tried to run to her, but the alert knights held and forced him down before he caught the throne.

“You stop this instance you imbeciles! You! Mortal! If you, as you claim, care for the Goddess, I challenge you to prove it right this moment.” One flick of his hand and one of the chevaliers threw Ghost away and a sword at him. He wholeheartedly accepted the challenge.

Sierra became undone at the scene in front of her. She was nervous, scared, and at the same time impressed at the mad skills Ghost was showing as he defended and slayed the knights of gods. There was fire in his eyes, igniting him to win. But the battle wasn’t fair and square, Zeus was tiring him out by sending more and more warriors with each knight he slayed. Sierra kept squirming in her seat as she witnessed the unfair battle before flinching when she felt a hand land on her shoulder.

Ghost was well aware of Zeus’ intentions, he was purposely exhausting him so he would give up, but no matter how many stabs or bruises he received, giving up would never cross his mind knowing the price it pays.

Each swish of sword and duck of his, he sensed where the other was if it was nowhere near his sight. As he jabbed the steel into the man’s chest breaking through its skin and sinking into its bones, it was too late to duck from the stab that was coming from behind, but before a blade passed through him, a dead body dropped behind him instead, at the same time when the one in front his face dropped dead. When he turned around, he saw Sierra with a sword slightly gasping for air, his saviour from the traitor enemy. She ran to help him as soon as Athena untied her.

“Ghost..” She whispered breathlessly. Just a few more steps and they were finally able to feel another’s embrace. At the drop of the armor, Sierra locked his neck around her arms while Ghost secured her waist in his arms.

“I love you, Sierra. I am such a fool, please, I need you to forgive—”

“Shh.. shh.. I know, my only. I know. And I love you too, I love you so much.”

“Fools!” At the same time as Zeus let out a scream, the arrow came free and landed on the back of the mortal.

Sierra froze on her spot as she slowly processed what just happened. Ghost’s blooded body fell on the ground but she immediately tried to catch his head.

“No.. no.. this.. This is not possible. This can not be.. no.. ”

She couldn’t control the tears that were falling from her eyes. All the anger that burned inside her for centuries was turning into pure pain and sorrow.

“Ghost.. Don’t.. Please.. Don’t leave me.. I beg of you.. Don’t.”

Ghost weakly tried to reach his balaclava to let the Goddess know his genuine self. While Sierra was as seen as if she saw an angel, a handsome hunk angel. Even if he was painted in blood, and deep scars, it didn’t manage to lessen his striking beauty. From his brilliant eyes, sharp nose, and jaw, she was falling for him all over again.

“You are the most handsome mortal I sang for.”

“You are the most beautiful goddess I fought for.”

At the same time a smile appeared on Sierra’s lips was the escape of tears and a cough of blood from Ghost.

“Oh, Ghost. No.. shh.. no.. my ghost.."

“Simon.” Simon corrected. “Simon is my true name, my only.”

“Simon..” Sierra repeated in fascination. “I love you, Simon. I do.”

She left a kiss on his forehead as Simon left his last words before his last breath.

“For eternity, even at the last gasp of sun, I can only witness beauty when I’m with you.”

Each corner of the stadium was filled with Sierra’s screeching scream when Ghost officially caught his last breath. Her pain and grief were painfully evident in her yells and her cries. Every god and goddess watched her scream in pain. Her agony maimed everyone who heard her howl on the whole mountain of sacredness.

Yet no matter what the two of them went through that day, she was still served with death on the same day and neither of her parents defended or sought to comfort her. No one ever did except for the mortal who lay lifeless next to her.

From that day on, the cry and screams of agony of the siren echoed eternally at the depths of the sea, and anyone who came across, anyone unfortunate enough to hear it, was never found.

And that became the birth of the phantom of the sea.

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 years ago

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Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Chapter Five

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x original female character (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, angst, strong language, mentions of pregnancy. Word count: ~2k

Chapter summary: Daemon deals with the fallout of Melessa's discovery.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The thought tempts Daemon to go after Melessa, pull her to him and demand that she forgive him. However, it is Rhaenyra’s coronation and it has been shrouded in enough uncertainty and controversy, without her uncle chasing his weeping wife through the Red Keep. The very last thing the beginning of his niece’s reign needed was more gossip.

He sighs, only realising when he looks over his shoulder that the serving girl he’d pulled from the feast is still in the alcove, pressed against the wall, wide eyed and disheveled. Pathetic. He is unsure whether it is a thought he directs towards himself or her.

“Fuck off,” he hisses, not bothering to watch as she smooths her skirts and scurries away.

Leaning against the cool stone of the corridor, Daemon sighs. He does not know how to put this right, apologies have never been his strong suit. He can put together battle strategies for entire armies, cleave his enemies in twain, and rain dragonfire down upon those who oppose him, but his problem solving does extend as far as opening his heart and admitting to his own wrongdoing.

The very thought of going to Melessa and placing himself at her mercy by pleading for her forgiveness terrifies him more than any battle ever could. He owes it to her, though; she has given up so much in his pursuit of her, even more so since they were wed, and in a single misjudged act of foolishness he has made it all seem worthless.

His footsteps feel heavy as he trudges his way up towards their shared quarters, turning over and over in his mind what he might say to her.

I’m sorry.

It was a mistake.

It won’t happen again.

None of it feels good enough. Daemon swallows thickly, his heart pounding, as he pushes open the door, preparing himself to be greeted by the sight of his wife’s mournful hysterics.

He is taken aback when he finds her seated by the window, staring out of it. She’d appear almost serene were it not for the fact that her eyes are rimmed red from crying. She doesn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Daemon shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clasping his hands firmly behind his back. He bows his head, taking a breath, before looking up at Melessa and uttering the first thought that springs to mind.

“Forgive me,” he says softly, looking at her with genuine remorse.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she says flatly, her voice listless. “It was silly of me to assume our marriage was anything more than a political tool for you to ensure Rhaenyra’s place as Queen.”

A pit forms in Daemon’s stomach upon hearing this. He had expected her to scream at him, to be met with heartbroken tears and burning anger, he would have welcomed that. This beaten-down resignation is more than he can handle; surely she does not believe the things she says? He stands there silently, brow furrowed in disbelief.

“You’ve gotten what you needed from our union, and it is childish folly for me to expect you to not want to bed other women,” she continues. “But now you have gotten what you want, I wish to return to Highgarden.”

Bile rises in Daemon’s throat at her admission. He fights the urge to grab her, to shake her and demand that she be angry with him. He doesn’t recognise the broken husk of a woman seated before him. She is lacking in the spirited brightness he has come to adore from his wife. Had his carelessness really snuffed that out?

He opens his mouth to speak, but finds the words won’t come. She beats him to it, dull and monotonous sounding.

“Don’t let me keep you. We can make the necessary arrangements tomorrow. Go back to the celebrations. Give the Queen my apologies for my absence; I am not feeling especially jovial this evening.”

Not knowing what else to do, wordlessly Daemon turns and leaves. His mind races, fear swirling in his gut at how withdrawn Melessa is, unsure of how to coax her back out of the shell she’d retreated into.

Irritation prickles at him as he strides through Maegor’s Holdfast, back towards the festivities. The very notion of playing at being Hand of the Queen for a feasting hall full of slack jawed halfwits, while his wife slips away from him, seems ridiculous. His jaw clenches as with every step the sounds of merriment get louder.

“There you are,” Rhaenyra calls out to him from across the courtyard.

“Shouldn’t you be entertaining your loyal subjects?” Daemon asks, walking to meet her.

“I needed some fresh air,” she says matter-of-factly. “Finished with that poor girl you dragged away earlier?”

Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing in agitation. “You saw that?”

“You’d sat at the table like a petulant child for the entire feast. It was the first time I’d seen you move all evening.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Of course I saw.”

Daemon rolls his eyes. “Well, so did my wife.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra raises her eyebrows at this.

“She wants to go back to Highgarden.”

“And you’re going to let her?”

“What choice do I have?” Daemon asks irritably. “I can’t very well chain her up and force her to stay here.”

“You fought so hard to get her. Is she not worth fighting to keep?”

“Of course she is!” he spits, temper flaring at the absurdity of such a question.

“Then show her that,” Rhaenyra responds softly. “Fight for her.”

“Your coronation feast—” he begins.

“—Is almost over,” she interrupts. “I need my Hand’s mind to not be preoccupied while fulfilling his duties. Fix this, so I may have your full attention tomorrow.”

Daemon nods gratefully, walking away with a renewed determination to win back the affections of Melessa.

She has moved from her seat by the window when Daemon returns. He spots her standing at the foot of the bed, folding dresses into a trunk and he cannot help the white hot fury that boils under his skin at the sight of it. She really means to leave him. He cannot bear the thought.

Storming through the apartment, he snatches a gown from her grasp, the fabric tearing audibly as he does so.

It is the first time all day—since she caught him with the serving girl, that is—that her face has shown any visible emotion. Her eyes widen in shock, quickly morphing to anger as she scowls.

“What are you doing?” she cries in an accusatory manner.

“I could ask the same of you,” Daemon says darkly. “You aren’t going anywhere. Stop behaving like a child!”

“It is not me who is cavorting in hallways with servants. You cannot keep me here as your prisoner!” she shoots back.

He can tell from the way her voice wobbles that she is about to cry again and his heart aches at the sound, immediately regretting how he has handled the situation.

“Petal,” he pleads, his voice softening, still holding her now ruined dress in his hands. “You are not my prisoner—you are my wife.”

She shakes her head sadly, eyes closing as tears fall from her waterline and roll heavily down her cheeks. “I was an infatuation for you, one that you have grown tired of. Just let me go. Please.”

“You aren’t; I haven’t; I can’t,” he implores desperately, letting the garment he holds drop to the floor to reach for her.

She backs away, sniffling. “You know,” she begins, voice thick and watery. “It is not the utter humiliation of what you did to me that hurts most. It is that I have spent the past half a year trying to be the perfect wife for you and still I am not enough.”

Daemon hates this. Why will she not allow him to touch her? He cannot comfort her, cannot mend the broken pieces if he can’t hold her. He aches to pull her to him, fingers flexing uselessly at his sides as stares at her filled with shame and regret.

“You are enough,” he whispers. “More than I deserve.”

“You never say it back,” Melessa croaks. “Do you love me?”

Daemon balks at this, opening his mouth before clamping it shut again. He’d never uttered those words to anyone, wasn’t even sure he knew what such an emotion was. All he knows is that over the last six months something has grown within him, something dark and urgent that drives him to be with her, as though an invisible string tied his heart to hers. To be by her side was a need, not a mere passing fancy. If that was what love was, then he did indeed feel that.

But he has no idea of how to articulate that to her, how to make her understand that in his own unique way all of his heart belongs to her. So he says nothing, watching as she hiccups a sob before walking to the opposite bedchamber, the one that has remained unoccupied since they arrived back in King’s Landing, and closes the door behind her.

The anger builds quickly in Daemon, his patience threadbare at his inability to speak his feelings coupled with frustration at having made no progress in earning his wife’s forgiveness. With a snarl of fury, he picks up a small wooden stool that has been left discarded by the bed and launches it towards the nearest wall. It breaks apart on impact, clattering noisily to the flagstone floor.

“Fuck!” he shouts, before dropping heavily onto the bed, placing his hands over his face in frustration.

The smell of her clings to the sheets, almond oil and rosewater, maddeningly sweet. For a moment he considers barging into the bedchamber she now occupies and simply taking her by force. She’d have no doubt of his want or love for her if he felt how passionately he needed her. He thinks better of it. If she didn’t wish for him to even take her by the hand, it is doubtful she’d appreciate him rutting into her like an untamed beast.

He sighs. He has everything he has ever wanted, and yet has managed to ruin it. He could never allow himself to just be happy. It reminds him of when he and Viserys were children. They had had family visiting from across the continent who’d brought each of the boys a gift. Daemon had received a wheeled wooden horse, which he’d taken great delight in dragging around the gardens. Viserys had been given a model of a castle. To Daemon, it had appeared that Viserys was having more fun playing with his castle than he was playing with his horse. He’d taken it upon himself to destroy both toys. If he couldn’t achieve that level of happiness, then no one else deserved to have it either. Is that what he’d done to his marriage? Shame wells fiery and acrid within him at the idea.

He doesn’t realise he has fallen asleep, exhausted by the events of the day, until he is awoken by the creaking of Melessa’s chamber door. He sits bolt upright, anticipating the sight of her exiting through the door, but is disappointed and surprised to see it is Maester Orwyle instead.

Daemon stands, blinking back sleep, and stalks towards him. “Why the fuck are you creeping out of my wife’s bedchamber in the middle of the night?” he growls irritably.

Orwyle bows his head apologetically, a hint of fear in his eyes as he regards Daemon, glowering and tightly wound. “Forgive me, your Highness—your lady wife was having trouble sleeping. She requested milk of the poppy to help soothe her. You need not worry; I kept the dosage small, considering her condition.”

“Her condition?” Daemon questions suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

Shrinking backwards with a gulp, visibly uncomfortable, Orwyle nods his head. “Y-yes, your Highness. She is with child.”

Daemon feels as though his heart skips a beat, a combination of shock and anger flashing through him in an instant that has him yanking the maester up by his robes. “She’s what?”

Chapter four || Chapter six || Series masterlist

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writtenonreceipts · 6 months ago

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Fic Masterlist // AO3 Link

Finally posting here. I forgot I had this chapter written until a darling friend commented on a03 and I decided to edit her up and post.

Warnings: none, ~4.5k words

Summary to this point: Feyre has made a slow, if strange, friendship with the mayor of Velaris--Rhysand Avitas. She isn’t sure what to make of it, or even if she can trust it considering her past. But her daughter seems to like him and you can trust an almost two year-old right? After her shop is broken into and a rather cryptic conversation with Rhysand’s father, Feyre’s walls return to full capacity and she’s ready to push everyone away. It’s what she’s good at. Now she has to try and clean up her shop and get back to business as usual.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Of Picking Up the Pieces

Two days later Feyre dropped Seren off with Vassa to watch for a few hours. While Feyre had only lived with Vassa and Jurian for a few months in the early days of her pregnancy, she’d kept in touch with them over the years. They were also close friends with Lucien which helped the anxiety Feyre had over leaving Seren with someone for the day. But having a toddler running around a messy shop really wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.

So, with Vassa’s assurance that she and Seren would have a fun day together, Feyre returned to the shop for damage control.

The police had informed her that their own crime scene unit did what they could to clean things up, but Feyre wasn’t going to put much faith in what they had to offer. All she could do was hope that repairs and repainting wouldn’t take too long. The first few weeks of a new business were the most important and already having to be closed was not going to do good things for her reputation. Whether or not it was vandalism.

When she finally made it downtown, she had to park a little ways away because the street was still blocked off with police barricades. It was obvious something had happened and the pedestrians that were milling about kept rapt attention to anything that looked out of place. Many of the shops still had boarded up windows and paint was still smeared on the sidewalk.

Her shop looked much the same as the previous night with its blown out windows and the beat up door. Heart squeezing tighter, Feyre tried to control the panic that threatened to eat her alive.

She pushed open the door, the heavy wood groaning. The paint had long since dried and someone had attempted to scrape it off, but it was to no avail. Still, she avoided touching any of the red.

The inside of the shop was as good as it could be. Aside from the splattered paint and broken glass, not much else had been terribly broken. It would just take a long day of cleaning and reorganizing. If she had help. Elain and Lucien would come by when they could, but Lucien had his own job. Elain was also in the middle of getting her master’s degree in botany and had already put many of her classes on hold to help Feyre with the shop. Nesta would of course be around to help with legal purposes, but the women’s shelter would need her sooner rather than later.

As all these thoughts continued to plague Feyre, she almost dismissed a sharp whistle that permeated the morning. Turning, Feyre found a group of high school boys in matching black t-shirts. Velaris High Football was printed proudly in white across the chest. A few of them had cut off the sleeves, one made his a crop top.

“Are you Miss Archeron?” the leader asked. He had buzzed hair and was taller than most high school kids Feyre knew.

“That’s me,” Feyre said. She eyed the boys in confusion. “What--”

She didn’t get to finish when Cassian appeared behind the boys.

“Archeron!” he said brightly, a grin stretching on his face and hazel eyes bright. “How’s it going?”

Feyre blinked. “Fine?”

“The boys and I are here to help,” Cassian said, absolutely enjoying Feyre’s confusion. “Where do you need us?”

Reigning in her shock as best she could, Feyre gestured to the brooms in one corner and the paint in another. In a matter of minutes the high school boys were sweeping and cleaning up all the broken items still lying about.

Feyre turned back to Cassian with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing?”

He offered her a to-go cup of coffee she hadn’t noticed him holding. And not one to say no to free coffee, she accepted. Her glare didn’t lessen though.

“I coach the football team when not kicking Rhys’ ass,” Cassian explained easily. He was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, looking exactly like a football coach should with the muscles and domineering appearance. His brown hair hung in thick waves to his shoulders and tattoos curled along his biceps and down his forearms. “The school year doesn’t start til September so we’re teaching the boys about service. They’ve had enough conditioning.”

“Right,” Feyre said. She took a long sip of the coffee, not enough creamer, and took a moment to process all of that. “So you’re helping me--”

“And the rest of the street,” Cassian added, “we divided the boys up. And the cheerleaders are coming by too. I think they decided to host a carwash to earn money for a donation fund.”

It was ridiculous, Feyre decided, that all of this was going on.

“I don’t need charity,” she said.

“Then the money will go to another shop.” Cassian shrugged. “We just want to help.”

Feyre stared at him. There didn’t seem to be any ulterior motives for him being there, just a friendly face. But she knew that he was here in part because of Rhys. After the last time Cassian had been to the shop to put finishing touches on the light fixtures, Feyre was convinced that Cassian would do whatever Rhys asked. Hell, he’d trailed Tamlin just because Rhys had asked.

Cassian reached out and gave her arm a squeeze.

“I just want to help, Feyre,” he said, as though he knew where Feyre’s hesitance was coming from.

The kids in the back of the shop laughed loudly at something and were already making progress on the mess of glass from a smashed case. They didn’t seem to care or notice that they were spending a summer day helping a random person with a problem.

She felt a little bit of gratitude worm its way through her chest and she only nodded. The floor was still smeared with red paint, despite how the crime scene unit had tried to clean they hadn’t been very effective.

“Well, I guess we have work to do,” she said.

Cassian only smiled and went to collect a spare push broom to clear away the excess debris still on the ground.

…

The rest of the morning passed quickly. Different sets of football players rotated through the shop as they took ruined items to a dumpster outside in the street. If she’d wanted to, Feyre could have sat in the corner and not lifted a finger. Cassian was well aware of what was needed and what to do and instructed the boys easily.

By the time it was nearing lunch, Cassian dismissed the players for the rest of the day, saying they could stay if they wanted but it wasn’t a requirement. Even in the four hours of work the shop was already looking good. Most of the trash had been cleaned up and the glass swept away. Really all that remained were stubborn spots of paint, replacing the main door, and the front window. And then the organization. That sounded like absolute hell. Maybe she’d wait for Elain’s help.

Mor showed up not much later with two boxes of pizza and water.

“It looks so good!” she exclaimed. “Who knew teenagers were so helpful?”

Feyre laughed, accepting a water bottle. “It helps when they listen to their coach.”

Cassian only grinned. “They know I can make them run all week if I want to. Besides, it helps when you split them up properly. Divide and conquer.”

“Alright general,” Mor mused. She’d brought plenty of paper towels and served up the pizza, handing Feyre a slice.

“Thanks,” Feyre said. She was exhausted. She hadn’t slept well the last several days and it was starting to take a toll on her. It didn’t help that Seren could sense her mood and had been fussy herself.

The pizza offered a bit of joy though that she couldn’t deny and if she ended up eating three slices, she would not apologize.

“Where’s Seren?” Mor asked, swatting at Cassian when he tried to steal his own third slice of pizza (Feyre hadn’t even seen him finish his first).

“With some friends,” Feyre said, she smiled wanly. “We would have gotten nothing done otherwise.”

The only good thing about being so busy was that it distracted Feyre from being worried about her daughter. Somewhat. Not really. Though, everything she did ended up feeling a bit of panic or found herself staring too long into the distance, Cassian was there to redirect her to the task at hand. Or make an inappropriate joke. Usually it was the latter.

“If you ever need help,” Mor offered. She said the words lightly, easily, so they could be dismissed or passed over.

Feyre had never been used to other people offering help. She’d grown accustomed to doing things her own way. Alone.

“Thanks Mor,” she said quietly, “that means a lot.”

Mor smiled before forcing another slice of pizza Feyre’s direction. “Of course. Now. What else do we need to get done?”

Really, there didn’t seem much to do beyond waiting until the new glass window arrived and getting the door replaced. Feyre kicked at the floor where remnants of the red paint refused to come up. She supposed it was better that the ground was concrete and not carpet, it was easier to hide the mess with rugs than replace the entire flooring.

She looked away before her mind could wander in unwanted directions.

“I think the walls just need another look around the door and over on that side,” Feyre said, gesturing. The football boys had done a good job, but they were teenagers after all and some of them didn’t have as much attention to details in certain spots than others. “I’m going to buy some rugs for the floor though.”

“You should ask Alanna for help,” Cassian said. He collected the leftover pizza into one box and set it off to the side before he wiped down the counter where Mor had set the boxes. “She loves that sort of thing.”

Feyre didn’t miss the look Mor shot her friend, but still couldn’t help but ask. “Who’s Alanna?”

“Rhys’ mom,” Cassiad said, cheerfully ignoring Mor’s glare.

Feyre was aware that Mor was trying to take into account their conversation from the other day and not wanting to be pushed into anything. Cassian hadn’t gotten the memo.

“Oh,” Feyre said dumbly. “Right.”

“She is wonderful with that sort of thing,” Mor said quickly, “but I know you’re capable of doing this yourself.”

The emphasis on the last part of her words was for Cassian alone. It seemed his grin was a permanent feature on his face.

“Of course you can, Feyre, you’re badass,” Cassian said happily. He moved off to finish clearing the larger glass chunks left in the storefront window.

Mor rolled her eyes and Feyre was sure her friend was going to apologize but she waved her off.

“Badass,” Feyre repeated.

And she let that carry her through the rest of the day.

…

As Rhys walked through downtown, he found that most of the community had come down to help fix up the mess that the vandalizers had committed. In two days things had been completely transformed from splinters of wood and glass, and graffiti into scrubbed down care. Things were still out of sorts, but the progress was obvious.

He made sure to stop by as many of the shops as he could and talk to the various owners. Cassian had told him that the football team would be visiting all the shops along main street and offering help to those who had been affected. It looked, and sounded, as though a lot had been accomplished. That was good. And sure to help rally support in empathy.

Rhys had spoken with his father, unfortunately, to see if any progress had been made on finding the culprits. There wasn’t much Benham could say, though Rhys doubted his father actually wanted to say them. He always enjoyed keeping his cards to his chest.

But the one thing Rhys did learn was there were at least three vandals. They’d moved quickly and were well organized. Feyre’s shop had been hurt the worst.

That final note was an implication Benham didn’t comment on further, but Rhys knew he would have to face his reckoning on the topic. He’d avoid it as long as possible. At least long enough until he could talk to Feyre again.

And he planned to talk to Feyre today.

He’d rehearsed a few things, planned a few others out. He’d tried to get Mor to tell him about what they’d talked about the other day, but Mor refused to respond stating that was something he could figure out for himself.

He supposed he deserved that.

Between meetings at the office and trying to help assort some sort of damage control, his day had been busy. A mess. He’d wanted to come downtown first thing in the morning, but his father wanted to meet, then there were statements to give to the local news outlets. Azriel and Amren wouldn’t let him leave until they were all done.

When he was finally released it was late afternoon. The day remained bright and warm, typical for an August day. As enjoyable as summer was, Rhys couldn’t wait for cooler days and foggy autumn mornings.

Rhys made it to Feyre’s shop with a bit of trepidation. She had finally responded to his messages with a simple thank-you and nothing else. Rhys, deciding it best to let the situation breathe, had left it at that. But he was nothing if not persistent. And maybe a little pathetic according to Amren.

Rhys wouldn’t apologize for it though.

Feyre was worth knowing. There’d been something about her--strong and resilient, selfless and kind--that struck him. He knew that she’d lived a hard life, but still she was a good person, a good mother. Her determination was admirable and Rhys…well Rhys could have spent every waking moment drowning in her.

He paused just outside of the shop, looking through the open doorway. A part of him wondered if he should leave. If he should give her more space, more time to reconcile with everything that had happened.

In the middle of the shop with music pouring around them--Mor and Feyre danced as if they didn’t have a care in the world. It wasn’t the best dancing, Rhys had to admit, but it was carefree and full of laughs and giggles. Behind them, Cassian was a few rungs up on a ladder, looking down with amusement at the scene.

Rhys knew he was staring. Blatantly. But when Feyre was grinning like that, her hair falling out of a bun around her face, and looking so happy. He couldn’t help it.

“Rhys!” Mor shouted at him when the song changed. “You missed all the heavy lifting!”

She rested her hands on her hips and glared at him. Rhys shrugged and grinned.

“Sorry, I had some things to take care of,” he said. “I don’t remember giving you the day off.”

Mor cheerfully flipped him off. “Suck it.”

Rhys knew better than to try and argue anything so he ignored her. Instead, he looked at Feyre, glad to see that she didn’t withdraw from him. She may have sobered a bit from the joy of a few moments ago, but she didn’t walk away to busy herself with something else.

“Is there anything else that needs to get done?” he asked instead.

“We got most of it finished,” Feyre said as Mor went to the speaker she’d set up with her phone and turned the music down. “The new door won’t get here until tomorrow.”

He met her gaze, light lingering in her blue eyes. Just the fact that she was willing to look at him at all was a good sign, wasn’t it?

“Good,” he said, “and the window glass?”

“Hopefully by the end of the week,” Feyre said, “the company I’m working with is also helping out the other store owners, so they’re a bit swamped.”

She cast a look to the window in question, gaping like an open mouthed fish. The slab of plywood that had been used to cover it up at night was still leaning against the wall but Feyre looked absolutely disgusted at the mere sight of it.

It was a look similar to the one she’d given him all those weeks ago when they’d first met. Well, officially met. They’d had one other meeting prior that she’d obviously forgotten and Rhys wasn’t going to bring it up, not now. Their first real meeting had been a few years ago, back when Feyre had still been pregnant. Back when she’d avoided everything and everyone.

It was a stark contrast to now. Even as she seemed to be contemplating murder or larceny or something else illegal. And he was about to get that look directed straight at him.

“Feyre,” he began, catching Mor’s eye and giving her what he thought was a pretty meaningful look. Mor of course ignored him. In the background, Mor was sweeping a pile of dust and glass with painstaking deliberateness while Cassian simply leaned on the ladder obviously enjoying Rhys’ torment. The only good thing was Feyre had her back to them. Rhys was going to kill them.

“I need to go pick up Seren,” she blurted. Her blue eyes were guarded as she edged toward her purse and keys sitting on the corner of the counter. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Please,” Rhys said, “just five minutes.”

He didn’t like the hesitant way she held herself. Hated it, really. The idea of being the cause of her discomfort made him sick and he wished he could make it disappear.

Feyre swallowed but she didn’t break his gaze or step away again. “You can come by after eight. Five minutes.”

“I’ll be there,” Rhys agreed. It was better than nothing.

“Okay,” Feyre said. She grabbed her purse and keys before turning to Cassian and Mor. “Are you two still alright with locking up?”

“Don’t worry about it!” Mor assured her. “I’ll bring the keys by in the morning.”

Feyre gave her a grateful smile before she was gone. Rhys would have gone after her if he thought it would have done anything other than get his invitation revoked. When he turned back to his friends, their expressions were less than ideal.

“I suppose that could have gone better,” Rhys said.

“You better get it figured out,” Mor told him, “because either way, I am keeping her as my best friend.”

…

Two and a half years ago

The hospital was quiet for a Thursday afternoon. In all the other times Rhys had come with his brother there were all sorts of emergencies, screaming children, and drunken mishaps. Velaris hospital often found itself consumed by many interesting cases. But for that day, there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Nurses moved with their quick efficiency, patients were calm as they waited for treatment, even the intercom system was soothing. Though, Rhys was in the clinic that day and not the ER, so that had something to do with it.

Azriel was in for a check up on his hands, making sure the bones and the scar tissue was healing nicely. It had only been a few months after the surgery that would give Azriel back most, if not all, of his hand function. There’d been an accident while he’d been working on a car and it all could have gone a lot worse. But Rhys had made sure to find the best doctors in the country and helped in any way he could. Despite Az’s protests, Rhys wanted to help.

Even with the first leg of his mayorship not going quite according to plan, Rhys knew he had to do this. He was all Az had left.

Rhys worked on his laptop while Az was in for his check-ups. They’d had to come to the clinic instead of the regular doctors office for the blood work and x-rays, much to Az’s disappointment. If Rhys hadn’t taken the day to work from “home” he was certain Az would have skipped out on being here.

Sighing, Rhys looked over a new budget proposal. Of course his father was requesting more money for the police. Not even for raises in the community, healthcare, or training--but for guns and cars. Rhys could have sworn he’d just signed off on more money a few months ago.

He almost considered calling his father then and there to ask for a more detailed report instead of the one sentence demand. That wouldn’t do him any favors.

A few people passed by and he listened to the quiet commentary of a few nurses talking about the end of their shift. It amused him to no end that unlike many tv shows, all the nurses and doctors really wanted to do at the end of their shifts was to go home and sleep. Not the drunken, raunchy antics media often depicted. Oh, he’d overheard conversations about sordid love affairs gone awry and knew it happened, but rarely.

As he started a review of the list of events that Amren set out for him for the next few weeks, Rhys almost missed the person who took a seat in one of the chairs across from him. He didn’t know it was--a tug, a pull, some cosmic whisper--but he glanced up to find a woman seated on the edge of the vinyl seat across from him.

She had long, golden-blonde hair and pale skin with splashes of freckles along her nose and cheeks. She was striking, beautiful really, with blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. Her soft mouth was turned down and she worried her lip between her teeth. The jacket she wore hung off her frame and even in the heat of an early spring day she didn’t take it off.

It was then that Rhys noticed she was pregnant. Pregnant and terrified.

Her gaze flashed between the few nurses and other patients waiting to be called. When her eyes landed on him and noticed his watchful gaze she froze. One hand went to her rounded stomach and the other to her purse. If Rhys didn’t know any better he would have guessed she would bolt for the door.

He returned his attention to his computer.

After spending a few days a week helping Mor at the battered women’s shelter it wasn’t hard to imagine the woman’s hesitance.

What really bothered him was how familiar she felt to him. He couldn’t place it but he knew he’d seen her before.

He gave a discrete glance up and found that the woman returned her attention to the doors. One of her legs bounced too quickly to be natural. She was watching for something, or someone, and not with rapt yearning.

Rhys dropped his attention before he was caught again. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, especially if she were seeking help. The dark circles beneath her eyes and hollow points to her cheeks certainly spoke to exhaustion.

As he reviewed a few more emails, Rhys started contemplating actually taking a day off. Maybe Cassian and Azriel would go to a paintball course with him. It would certainly be a good way to relieve stress.

“Nesta?” Across the aisle the woman answered a phone call, speaking as quietly as she could. Her leg hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Yeah, I’m at the hospital. No. It’s just just Braxton hicks, I know it is.” She paused, dragging a hand through her hair. “I’m leaving. I can’t…Nesta he could come here.”

The woman’s rising panic was palpable and Rhys found himself closing his computer. He had no business listening in on the conversation just as he had no business already thinking of what he could do to help her.

“It’s Braxton hicks. Stay in Prythian,” the woman growled into her phone. “What do you mean Elain’s almost here?”

Rhys glanced at the nurses station. He recognized one of them who often helped him and Azriel with discharge work and notes. She was a kinder, older woman who had a soothing effect on her patients. It took a few moments of intense staring but she finally looked up and caught Rhys’ gaze. He nodded quickly to the woman across from him.

Wasting no time, the nurse was around the desk and walking over to the pregnant woman who was ending her call.

“Ms. Archeron,” the nurse said, smile in her voice. “Why don’t we get you settled in a room and check your vitals.”

“I’m fine,” Ms. Archeron said. Her eyes scrunched. “I’m not due until September. It’s Braxton hicks.”

“Alright, then let's get you more comfortable until they subside,” the nurse replied, her kind tone hedging to be a little more authoritative.

The woman rose slowly in a mix of pain and hesitance, mostly from the insistence of the nurse. The skittish look in her eyes didn’t leave as she kept one hand on her rounded stomach. She tried to argue with the nurse the entire way but eventually managed to get swept down the hall to a waiting room.

Rhys watched them go. Lingering in the back of his head was the unmistakable thought that he knew who the woman was. Frowning, he turned on his laptop again and pulled up his old highschool group page.

Archeron. Archeron.

He knew that name. And knew she looked familiar.

It didn’t take very long until he found a few different pictures but none were of her. The two pictures he did find were of two other girls, Nesta and Elain. Nesta was featured on the cross-country team for record runs and Elain for humanitarian work she did around Prythain. But the third remained a mystery. Until he finally landed on a single, grainy picture.

Prythian youth honored for art piece in local show.

And there, standing beside a photo was the young woman who’d just been seated before him. Feyre Archeron. Honored with a small scholarship for an oil painting rendered of the original founders of Prythian. And that was it.

Rhys glanced down the hall that Madja had taken her. Thoughts spun in his mind about what had happened in the last few years to lead her to where she was now. Alone. Terrified. Worried about someone finding her. It was enough to make his blood boil.

Staring at that old high school photo, Rhys could vaguely remember her. He knew her sisters as they’d been closer to his age, but she’d somehow vanished in the cacophony of youth and time. A quiet girl who kept to herself, who worked hard, who punched a kid for spouting slurs at a classmate. He also remembered the three sisters often skipping, leaving campus…the way they never brought lunches or rarely had needed class materials.

Rhys pursed his lips and opened another web browser, curiosity too strong to quiet.

#feysand #singleparentau #an intimate display #feysand single parent au #single parent au #acotar #feyre x rhysand

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willowedwisteria · 2 years ago

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Summary -> Having a clumsy reader that falls down very VERY often. I don't even know if this is SAGAU or cult au but whatever!!

Featuring -> Ei, Venti, Zhongli

Genre -> Fluff

Takes a while to process that you fell down

She'd probably blink a few times, look around at other people, then actually help you up

When you question her, she'll say that she was just observing and totally didn't malfunction!! She was totally looking around to see if anyone dared giggle or laugh at your fall!

After noticing this constant pattern of walking, slipping, getting up, and repeating, she'll begin to develop a habit of helping you up naturally after a while

Definitely adores seeing you try on her heels, but is WAY too worried whenever you even try to crawl with them on. You're going to injure yourself somehow and in the most unpredictable way possible

She's awfully straightforward at the wrong times.

You wonder why she can't ever tell you that she wants that appetizing serving of Dango near you, but she'll just directly say that she can carry you

"Perhaps it would be easier if I just carry you?"

Definitely is awkward carrying you for the first time though

Where is she allowed to touch? Are you comfortable? Do you want her to bridal style carry you or piggyback?

After this first attempt, you are surprised by how naturally she can just scoop you up into her arms - making another excuse that there was a bug or a lot of dust on the floor

You've 100% fallen asleep in her arms before and she LOVES it.

Just imagine the electro archon, the woman who reigns over the whole of Inazuma, completely flustered after seeing your serene sleeping face

She'll turn her head and hear your soft snores, then completely freak out and snap her head the other way

Venti

Falls with you. No questions asked.

He'll probably laugh it off as a joke so you won't feel embarrassed, but if your cheeks continue to flush, then he'll make a mental note to not talk about it in the future and tell you that accidents happen!!

Will count how many times you fall in a day and compare it to how many bottles of wine he can drink

If you are an adult, he probably won't be able to stop cackling at how you keep falling down when you're drunk

"Are you a magnet that just attracts to the floor or something??"

But definitely worries the moment you actually get hurt, caressing your wounds and trying to watch out for when you're about to trip

He'll manipulate the wind around you and catch you just in time

He probably jokes about how you would still get hurt even if he's allowing you to float around with the help of the wind

You laughed so hard at his jokes and threw your head back, hitting it against the wall. He can't get that out of his mind

Diluc probably judges him from afar with how careless he's being with you

Venti just believes that you can still have your own fun even if you get injured easily. You're super duper strong!! Little injuries won't hurt you, right?

You've probably joked about dressing up as a mummy and the whole tavern was like... what???

"What's a mummy? Ooh, Halloween? What's that."

Once you've explained the lore and stuff, he definitely forces Diluc to make it a special event at the tavern. Sooner or later, word will spread to the Knights of Favonius and the whole of Mondstadt is suddenly dressing up for Halloween

True to what you said, you dressed up as a mummy, covered in bandages. Venti 100% doodled on the bandages.

Zhongli

Learns about your... special trait quite quickly! It's definitely... eccentric!

He's constantly worried for you, poor thing

Zhongli already made a mental note about the concerning amount of injuries and bandages that you were practically bathed in.

Catches you by the waist

"Please, watch out for anything you could trip on."

Probably kicks stones out of your way

Warns Xiao about how many times you could possibly get hurt in just ONE DAY. You didn't look where you were going, accidentally stepped onto a trolley and it somehow brought you crashing right into a store

Prays to Celestia for any solution

Probably has a whole first aid kit filled with bandages for you whenever he brings you out. When walking downstairs, he'll remind you to HOLD onto the railing.

You don't even want to remember that time when you slid down the railing.

Rubs your wounds and will check if it's getting better!!

"Sit down, please. You got hurt, do not force yourself,"

Checks you for any new injuries and asks you about them. Always sighs whenever you say something along the lines of "I don't remember"

When you actually don't trip and fall, he smiles at you and will occasionally remind you to be careful! He hates seeing you flinch in pain or get hurt :((

Doesn't flinch when seeing blood due to his archon year, but ooh boy does he have this knee-jerk reaction when blood begins to ooze out of your wounds

Is the type to clean your wounds and say, "This will only hurt for a bit, close your eyes if you need to," BUT HAS THE MOST GENTLE TOUCH EVER

Taglist -> @under-a-starry-night, @yourfaveisblack, @bardisipatos, @callmemeelah, @kithewanderingme, @pale-value, @bamboowritess/@bamboowritess, @uchihaeirin, @karmawonders, @lunavixia, @anfre109, @ly-archives, @zuyoo, @pimacolada-lulu, @bimboing, @gallantys, @swaggyb0ke, @borbsbirbs, @shizunxie, @tiffthescales, @genshin-impacts-me, @keithsaccount, @mkaella, @mentallyunpresent, @alicehasdrowned, @franc-1-s, @no-regrets-just-confusion, @christmaspickl, @lunalily19, @vvyeislazzy

Special tags -> @is-very-sad, @chocoenvy, @raidengaile/@ly-archives/@simplygaile, @saigomo, @gunterdon, @emilemovhi, @lovelyy-moraxx, @demon-bane, @i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry, @xiaophilia/@ayayaxia, @thewindstale, @creation-magician, @my-white-canvas/@pale-value, @yuzuricebun, @ventivity, @sweetstrawberrybabe, @euthym1as, @lotterymology, @mx-kamisato, @matsutake-san

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lyrithim · 1 year ago

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[ColinDeli] For Old Times' Sake

Summary: After the end of the Ravening War, Colin and Deli journey briefly together to the Meatlands and do not sleep together. Pairing: Deli/Colin Word Count: 1,304 Rating: M AO3 Link

Dawn was beautiful rising from these frozen shores. Colin had forgotten. Or maybe he never looked closely enough when he had the chance. For a second, watching the folds of frail golden light sweep over the tundra, Colin could almost forgive Deli for everything he had done—could almost forgive himself.

“Up ahead,” Deli said beside him. Past the fork in the road, almost obscured by mist, there was a small thatched hut in the crevice between two great mountains.

Colin was a little surprised. There? That was Deli’s safehouse?

“Yes,” Deli replied. Then, correcting himself, he said, “Here was where I spent my boyhood.”

They were a full day’s ride away from the closest village. Years ago, the Chieftess had told Colin how she had raised Deli outside of her clan, forsaken by her kinsmen because of a fatherless pregnancy. Here the Chieftess had nursed Deli. Then, when Deli could walk, she returned to her clan and sought revenge on the men who had usurped her and her son’s birthright.

It had only been a week since the last treaty was signed and the war had ended—the war that they were now calling the Ravening War. To the victors fell the spoils; among the victors were the spoils divided. Men who had never before dreamt of riches were transformed by the sudden flood of titles and lands from Ceresian tributes. These men eyed those in the rungs above, where among others Deli stood.

Deli’s absence in the final battle of the war was noted. His mixed parentage was reexamined among the Meatland troops. Basha was loathed to let go his best advisor, his kingmaker. But Basha’s reign had been brief, despite his military victories, and therefore fragile. Deli told Colin that he did not want to force Basha’s hand, but Colin knew that Deli was tired of fighting.

Colin was not. He could no more forget Raphaniel’s last screams and those teeth, those damn teeth of the Fellowship’s god, than he could sheath his sword. Since leaving Saprophus, Colin had been seized with a restlessness he had never before experienced. At the center of the restlessness was a terrible and intoxicating thing: a direction. All his life he had run away from this or that, drifted away, refused to engage, acted in the negative. For revenge, he now became clear-eyed. His life’s mission would be to hunt down the last of the Fellowship until the end of this land. He held this belief without embarrassment.

A hand on his shoulder. Deli’s. “Can we rest for a bit?”

Of course, Colin told him.

They set up camp by a river that was frozen over violently: the surface roiled with stilled currents, and huge solid white waves soared against the river banks. But the river itself was suffocated into silence.

Colin went through familiar motions: arranging twigs around dry land, gathering frost for water, raising the soup pot, waiting as Deli dashed together two pop rocks against the tinder. They stoked the fire. It grew warm and comfortable. Colin took off his outer coat, and Deli took off the fur draped over his bare shoulders.

They ate. This would be the last meal they would have together for some time. Colin understood this. He was serene in this fact—that was, until Deli spoke.

“We were here once,” Deli said.

Did they? Colin did not recognize the place.

“The river looks different now,” Deli said, gesturing in front of them. “It had been flowing. It was summer. And we weren’t here, exactly. We were somewhere more upstream or downstream. But we had pitched a tent around by a grand white fish-bone fir. It was steady. It saved us from the storm.”

Colin remembered now. Not the river or the fir tree, but the memory that Deli had been guiding him towards. It had been so early after they had left Comida. Deli, much younger, exuberant, had won the approval of his kinsmen and been named emissary on behalf of the clan that morning. It was all that was on Deli’s mind and in the glint of Deli’s eye.

In the evening, they had laid next to each other as usual. There had been no fire in the tent; their only source of heat was each other. The storm had lapped against the tent flap. Icy raindrops had sought to penetrate their thin canvas of a roof. They would have died of the cold if either the canvas or the entrance had given in. But little of this mattered to them. Colin listened to Deli talk about a beautiful future and a beautiful world for his people. There would be happiness, Deli said, and Colin had indeed felt great happiness. Then Deli had stopped, looked over at Colin, and kissed him.

“You were the one who told me that I should save myself for someone I loved,” Deli said now. They had proceeded no further that evening.

“I remember,” Colin told him.

“But I do love you.”

The confession stunned him, but it did not surprise him. It was a plunge into a cold pool—the body adjusted to the shock in a heartbeat. Love, love, love. Colin loved him. Of course Colin loved him. How long had Colin loved him. But they were past the time—the biological age? the historical epoch?—when a passionate confession could remedy all ills. How much time had they had to reexamine themselves and each other? How much time had they to say those words of love? Colin wanted to tell Deli that he loved him. The Colin of all of their travels together threatened to burst from Colin’s throat: I do love you too, I do. But Colin held himself back. It was restraint with the slightest edge of malice. Colin knew that he could hurt Deli then. Was it cruel of Colin to still want that power over Deli? He almost wanted to hurt him. Was there a part of him that thought the act of refusal ensured he would stay that much longer in Deli’s mind? Did he think Deli saw Karna when Deli looked at him? Was this fear that he felt fear for himself or fear for Deli?

Instead, he kissed Deli for the second time in his life. Deli kissed him back. What a lovely sight they now made: two figures intertwined together by a fire, the clansman’s bare back against the light and the cold, the man beneath him willing and pliant. How deeply they kissed each other then, as though they would never let each other go.

It would live forever in Colin: this kiss, this love of his, Deli, the young prince, his youth, Colin’s youth. Colin knew it. But everything became a memory as soon as they begun; Colin anticipated the end as soon as they started. Already he was living in the future, looking back curiously, the present in retrospective. He felt desire, he thought. He felt Deli’s desire too. Deli was trembling, was grasping at him, holding onto him, pulling him in by the collar in one moment, pushing Colin into the frozen ground in the next, clashing teeth, nipping at his lips, digging into his skin, forcing Colin to take shape as a physical entity. But Colin only held Deli in an embrace.

And Deli finally gave up on Colin. Deli’s kisses slowed, grew gentle. Then Deli broke away. Colin did not protest. Deli lifted his face to the sky and let go of Colin.

Later, on the path back to the harbor, Colin could not be sure, but he thought he spotted it near the horizon: that great fish-bone fir by the river, whose spine stretched into the heavens, next to which he and Deli had set up shelter together so many years ago.

#dimension 20 #colindeli #colin provolone #thane delissandro katzon #the ravening war #fanfiction #it has been two years since i last posted fic #life comes at you fast

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jaysficarchive · 4 months ago

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The Lady's Storm

Synopsis: Lord Chuso Mejia will never be an aristocrat, as the upper crust never fails to show him. The former boxer is too used to solving his problems with his fists in the ring, and not his words at a fancy banquet no matter how many he attends.

For a long time, he has been content with skirting on the edge of upper society as he busies himself with running his Gentlemen Clubs and sponsoring bright eyed inventors and up and coming boxers.

That is until he catches sight of the crowned jewel of the season, and suddenly he finds himself wanting to assimilate more if it means he has a chance with her.

Lady Oya Amarai will always be an aristocrat, as the upper crust never fails to remind her. The youngest daughter of a strong lineage is used to kind words and proper etiquette, not the wit she has curated or the sports she has participated in no matter how much she'd win.

For a long time, she has been content with being at the center of upper society as she is crowned the crown jewel of the season, and busies herself with the countless suitors and jealous ladies that are trying to ruin her.

That is until she catches sight of the often scorned former boxer, and suddenly she finds herself wanting to distance herself more if it means she has a chance with him.

Taglist: @floof-ghostie @calciumcryptid @opalofoctober

Stormlands

A cool fog hung around while the rosy light of the sunrise illuminated the horizon. There was little movement going on inside the house. No maids, no butlers, nothing except one eager lady.

Quietly creeping out of her room, Lady Oya made her way downstairs and out the back door to the stables. In her arms was a dark blue cloak to conceal her identity. Upcoming events were about to make going out on her morning rides more difficult.

Once at the stables, she took a beautiful black horse out and strapped a saddle to its back. She then led the horse away, holding onto the reigns.

"Good girl, Ayomide." The lady pet the mare once she arrived at a trail surrounded by a forest. "I'll give you lots of apples and carrots when we get back."

Carefully, she mounted Ayomide then rode off. The serene scenery made her feel like she was in a novel. This trail was a secret part of her estate. She discovered it one day while surveying her land on horseback. Behind the trees was a beautiful river full of clear water. Chirping birds combined with the river water were music to her ears during her rides as was feeling rushing winds. It was a nice break from the morning chaos of her home.

Oya stopped at a clearing to watch the rest of the sunrise.

By the time she got back, almost everyone was awake. Sounds of cooks preparing breakfast while maids and butlers walked around doing what they do heard from the garden. Thank goodness she planned ahead by having a change of clothes. Last thing she needed to hear was her mother scold her about riding again. She went into the shed to change into a lavender dress. One of her ladies maids would come retrieve her riding habit.

For now, she needed to make it seem like she never stepped foot off the property.

Only one time of year got people this up and early.

"Good morning, My Lady." The servants bowed upon her entrance. Oya sliently nodded at them before climbing up the stairs to her room. So far so good. If she was lucky enough, she could-

"Ahem."

Nevermind.

Oya stopped and turned, knowing who just cleared their throat. Only the fiercest, most daring woman she knew.

"Good morning, mother."

She bowed gracefully in the hopes of lessening whatever blow her mother was about to deal her.

"And where have you been?" Uche, Oya's mother, asked. She was a woman with deep brown dressed in a rich purple gown with gold embroidery. Her jewels lost not a single bit of luster. Her dark hair was pinned up and out of her face.

"I was in the garden. I wondered if the new flowers ever bloomed." It wasn't entirely a lie. She did stop to admire the new blossoms. The colors were captivating, scents ever so lovely. Hopefully it was convincing enough for the lady of the manor.

"Right," Uche hummed. She didn't buy the story but decided to spare her daughter. Besides, there was much to do today. "Get bathed and dressed. I will meet you in your room."

After taking a warm bath with rose petals and flowery soaps, she sat still while her maids pinned up her hair in a similar fashion to her mother's. Right on time too since Uche walked in just as they were finishing. She smiled proudly at the young woman in front of her. From the day she found out her second child was a girl, she knew her daughter was destined for greatness. After all, she was a member of one of the greatest houses in all of Eden.

"You wanted to see me, mother?"

"Yes. You will marry this season. I can feel it." Uche sat on the bed next to Oya. She clasped the younger woman's hands. Now that her oldest son was married with children, all her energy could be focused onto her daughter.

"I have selected only the best, most eligble of the ton for you. They all come from great families, are highly educated, and ready for marriage."

"You selected them? I thought that was father's job," Oya said.

"Focus, girl! Tonight there will be a ball at the royal palace. The Queen will be there. I have no doubt you will have her favor as all women in our great family do. Having it will give you an advantage in being crowned the diamond of the season and increase your marriage prospects by tenfold."

"And what if it doesn't?"

Uche scowled. Why Oya felt the need to challenge her word was unexplainable. "It will. You know that whatever I say becomes truth. If I say you will marry this season, you will marry. If I say you will have the Queen's favor, you will have Her Majesty's favor. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mama."

There was no greater joy than playing tennis with old friends. Shortly after breakfast, a few of Oya's friends came to visit. Never a better time since Uche wanted her to read the letters she received from two suitors out loud.

"I must thank you for saving me this morning. Now that the season has started, my mother will become like a hawk and demand I spend every waking moment of my life preparing for marriage."

"I can only imagine what she'll be like when you do marry." Miss Nkiruka Udoka, whom Oya affectionately nicknamed Nia, said as she threw the ball and hit it with her racket.

They spent a summer together at the family summer home when Nia first came to Eden Island. Oya treasured their friendship deeply, often traveling with her when she had the chance.

Sovann Hou, a lawyer and another one of Oya's friends, watched them. The two grew up together since Sovann's father was one of her father's many legal advisers. Now, Sovann was her lawyer in all legal matters.

"Make sure to protect your assets, Oya," she warned. "I know your mother is a good judge of character but the mothers of some of these men won't be afraid to resort to trickery."

"Oh I will." Oya hit the ball. "I have a list of behaviors to look out for, especially if the subject of inheritance is brought up."

Being the daughter of a family as old and wealthy as her's not might've meant much to Oya, but to others it was everything. To mothers ready to marry off their sons, a woman like her was a ticket to riches unseen and even royalty since her family had ties to the Queen. She had to be extremely careful of who she picked to be her husband lest she have a mother-in-law attempting to poison her parents.

Her hands rested in her lap for almost the entirety of the carriage ride. She had nothing to fear. If these men were as elite as her mother said, then the only thing she'd have to be mildly concerned with were jealous ladies and scheming mothers.

"You look stunning, little princess," Hirosora, her father, cooed. He rarely accompanied them to balls and the season overall since Uche often claimed that as her responsibility but wanted to be present for this one.

"Thank you, Father." Oya gave him a small smile.

"Remember to keep your head high, little storm. Their jealousy holds nothing in comparison to your integrity." Uche gently cupped her cheeks. To think that this was the last season she'd accompany her daughter to left her heartbroken. Once the carriage stopped, she tenderly kissed both sides of Oya's head then whispered a little prayer in Igbo.

Oya deeply inhaled, straightened her shoulders, and prepared to step out once the footman arrived at the door. A nearby maid held the back of her dress to prevent wrinkles. She stood before the carriage, observing everything around her. Carriages and dresses of different colors. Ladies and lords from all over gathering at the palace, hoping to have the eyes of the Queen.

"Are you ready?" Uche asked, locking arms with her daughter.

"Yes."

The mother and daughter pair walked with such elegance and confidence, catching the eye of everyone in attendance. All eyes were especially on Oya. Just the aura they gave off made everyone part like the sea. Wearing a pale blue trained gown with jewels embroidered into the fabric and a peacock feather in her hair, no doubt she intended to be all anyone talked about this night. Lords stared at her in awe, ladies in jealousy.

Even as she walked into the waiting room, eyes were still on her.

"You did excellent," Uche whispered proudly.

The Queen's arrival was announced. Despite being in the waiting room, Oya could feel her presence. She wondered if that was how everyone else felt when her and her mother walked in. She remained poised as ballroom fell silent, awaiting Her Majesty's next word.

"Begin."

And so it did.

"Lady Sarubia Yamaniwa Santos, presented by her mother, Her Grace, the Duchess of Yamasaki."

A brown skinned woman with curly dark brown hair walked up to the Queen. Her dress was a bright red that looked flattering on her. Her face remained stoic throughout the whole process.

In response, the Queen let out a satisfied hum. "Is it true that the Yamaniwa silkworms produce the finest silk in the whole kingdom, child?"

Sarubia nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The Queen hummed again. "I shall have to pay a visit."

Lady Sarubia's sisters, Lady Sakura and Lady Hanabi, are already married. Lady Sakura has a child. My guess is that this is her last effort to marry before her mother's hand is forced. She's only a year older than me.

After a long wait, it was finally Oya's turn.

"Lady Oya Amarai, presented by her mother, Her Royal Highness, the Grand Duchess of the Stormlands."

Like earlier, Oya and Uche's presence commanded attention. She couldn't look directly at him but knew Hirosora's warm gaze was watching with a smile. When they reached the throne, they curtsied low with grace. Oya felt the Queen's eyes on her specifically. She studied her thoroughly from the time she walked through the doors to now.

When she stood back up, the Queen nodded approvingly. Then she secretly smiled at both women. It told Oya everything she needed to know.

A while later, the guests were dismissed to go home and change for the ball.

Oya felt delirious. Every inch of her felt like she'd been struck by thunder. Her heart almost pounding out of her chest. Not only did the Queen nod but she even smiled at us! Mother's word has become truth! She looked down at her hands to see them shaking uncontrollably. Oh no.

"Can one of you open the window for me?"

Inhaling the cool night air, her body relaxed. Oya set her hands at her side once they stopped shaking. She was so wrapped up in euphoria that she almost forgot her condition. Thank goodness I acted as quickly as I did. It would've been embarrassing to have an attack before the ball.

The soft pink dress she wore for the ball was just as stunning as the previous one. Like the blue dress, this one also had jewels sewn into it. Pink wasn't a color Oya wore often but looked stunning when she did. Once again she captured everyone's, including the Queen, attention just from walking into the room. Before she would inevitably be swept away to dance with her suitors, she spent a few moments with friends.

"If you're still not married after tonight, it will be a crime," Sovann joked.

Oya laughed before briefly stopping. A tall figure out the corner of her eye caught her attention. Normally this wouldn't phase her since there were plenty of tall people in the nobility; however, this figure was different. It towered. A giant amongst humans. Even men who were considered quite tall couldn't hold a candle to the figure. Sadly the only other thing she caught a glimpse of was long, flowing hair cascading like a waterfall down the back.

Nia and Sovann looked on in half concern, half curiosity. Before they could ask, a voice called out to her.

"Lady Oya."

Oya was greeted to a man with silky black hair and glossy eyes. He was quite handsome. His suit was exquisitely designed; the gold embroidery on his jacket signaling he was of her standing. "I am Grand Duke Taiyo Chikara of the House of Chikara. It is an honor to not only meet you, but to be one of your suitors. Would you do me the honor of having your first dance?"

House Chikara. Mama certainly knew who to pick. "It would be my pleasure, sir."

They glided across the dancefloor, flowing to the rhythm of the music with ease. Again, everyone's eyes were on Oya. "What are your impressions of me so far, sir?" She asked.

"You sound as beautiful as your mother described. However, I must make one flaw of mine known to you."

"Is it that you are blind?" Oya asked. She heard stories of one of the Taiyo children being blind. She also saw his mother acting as a guide when she first arrived. "If so, I already know from the way you allow me to guide your movements. Fear not, though, since you were selected by my mother in spite of it. She sees not a crippled man but a wordly scholar."

Taiyo smiled back at her, their dance coming to an end. "Your wit will fit in greatly with my family. Even if we do not marry, I would greatly appreciate you as a close friend."

Oya nodded and curtsied politely. She prepared for her second dance, looking around for a new partner.

Duke Chikara is an honorable man. I wish him only a long and bountiful life should he not end up my husband.

Out the corner of her eye she saw someone coming towards her. When they came into her view, she realized it was a man.

"Are you Señora Oya?"

Oya blinked slowly. Surely her mind was playing tricks on her.

A large man with bronze skin and long black hair flowing down his back stood before her. He towered over all of the men in attendance. His suit tailor made to fit his strong, sturdy build. Confidence filled his smile.

Who was he? She prided herself on knowing all the nobility; yet his face was one she'd never seen before.

"May I have your second dance?" His hand raised hers to his lips where a soft kiss was placed. Despite his large size, his hands were surprisingly average. His touch was gently firm.

A flustered Oya wordlessly followed him. Science dictated large things moved slowly. Her partner proved it wrong with how he kept up with the other dancers. His movements were so smooth and effortless. But the one thing that held all her attention were his eyes. Somewhere between a dark brown and orange, magnificently suited for him and him alone.

Am I dancing with a God? Oya thought to herself. He can't possibly be real. I must be drunk. But I didn't even have that much to drink.

Out the corner of her eye, she could see Nia and Sovann looking on with mixed reactions. A sentiment shared by the rest of the guests from what she saw. Did they know him? She turned back to see him smiling at her. Thick sideburns were another feature of his.

"Are you enjoying yourself, mi señora?"

He called me that again. "Yes. You're a skilled dancer. Do I know you, sir?"

"I'm afraid you wouldn't. No fault of your own, of course. I don't get invited to these events," he replied.

Oya raised an eyebrow. Odd. Even the most destestable of the nobility get invited to balls despite how most feel. This man is no doubt a Lord, so naturally he should be at balls. "May I ask why?"

"I don't think- well, they don't like me at all. I doubt that I'm even supposed to be here." The man looked back at a few lords who gladed at him disapprovingly. "I wished to see the lady who was making such a buzz among the men at my clubs. Now I know it's you."

Clubs?

Her mind began putting all the pieces to the puzzle of his appearance together. Her eyes widened when the final one went in. That figure I saw was him! Before she could ask any more questions, the music ended, meaning time to switch partners.

"Adiós, Señora Oya." The man kissed her once again before walking away. He was just as fast in walking as he was in dancing.

Oya ran after him, pushing and shoving past people on the way. She couldn't hear her mother or friends yelling out her name. Wait! Please wait for me!

When she finally caught up to him, he was in the process of getting onto his horse. That fact didn't surprise her. She could imagine how uncomfortable carriages were for a man of his stature. He looked taken aback to see her.

"Your name," Oya said between panting. "What is your name?"

"Chuso. People call me Chuso," Chuso replied. He then flashed her another smile. "You're pretty brave to chase a man like me out here. I wish I could see you more."

Oya opened her mouth to say something else, only to be silenced by Chuso getting off his horse and kissing her cheek. His lips were velvet against the skin of her cheek. A heat she never felt before came over her. Suddenly her knees started to weaken. Her stomach flipped in every direction.

Be still my heart! Abeg!

Chuso chuckled. He mounted his horse again, preparing to depart. But not before he left the lady with a message.

"Dream of me tonight, princesa."

Oya felt like she died and went to heaven. There was so much she wanted to know, to learn about Lord Chuso. For now, she would have to settle with his words..and the kiss on her cheek.

I'll do more than just dream of you.

#fic: the lady's storm #i finally finished it

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lovewilder · 4 months ago

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Orchards (part 1)

The Family

It was 4:12 PM, and the crew was packing up tables and tents as the wind added a chill to the already crisp air. Just as the idea of heading to my warm car and grabbing dinner crossed my mind, a white SUV barrelled down the unpaved road. Despite the main gate supposedly being locked, there stood a family of four—mom looking unhappy, dad mirroring her mood, and the children wide-eyed, they explaining they were sent from our market about 10 miles away. Oddly, no call had alerted us of their arrival.

Curious, I asked, "How did you get through our front gates?" The woman, her voice filled with rage, replied, "The small woman with blonde hair let me in, and she also tried to turn me around." It clicked that our farm manager, Linda, must have stepped in. The market had contacted her, and she told them not to let the woman in after 3:30 PM. The family, unaware of this, turned a 5-minute drive into a 45-minute ordeal, arriving after their reservation.

Facing the frustrated family, I explained our closing time was 4 PM, as clearly stated on their ticket. The woman, with her family and looking down, shared they had come from two hours south of town, blaming traffic for the delay. Understanding but firm, I maintained a serious tone with a touch of kindness, giving them only 10 minutes to pick apples before they had to leave. With a bag in hand, she led her family into the orchards.

The Orchards

The orchards sprawl expansively, a vast tapestry of brightly colored nature. Ascending the tallest hill on the right side of the fields, with your back turned to the main road, the panorama unfolds like a live painting—a dream realized. The trees, with hypnotic choreography, sway in the breeze, extending for miles. This year, their foliage, a shade greener than seasons past. Against the deep blue canvas of the sky, adorned with clouds that cast sprawling shadows, the view is a priceless spectacle, transcending the value that mere currency could ascribe.

The clouds here possess a profound depth, a unique character unfound elsewhere, and the air carries whispers from the trees. Amidst this serene expanse, a constant hum of bees adds a gentle soundtrack to the distant scenery. The fragrance of marigolds, carried by the wind, completes the sensory symphony.

Here, tranquility reigns supreme. The orchard's rows create a natural barrier, muting sound and allowing only a select few to venture beyond the weekends. From 9 AM to 4 PM on Saturdays and Sundays, those with a pre-purchased ticket have the privilege to wander the orchards, hand-picking apples grown for generations. The sacredness of this place is preserved; it's a haven for nature lovers, a moment to acknowledge and appreciate the earth that nurtures our sustenance.

The orchards are meticulously tended, surrounded by a fence more akin to a protective wall. While most wildlife is left undisturbed, a fortress-like barrier shields the trees from potential threats posed by deer and trespassers alike. In this carefully preserved enclave, the orchards stand as a testament to the delicate balance between cultivation and preservation, inviting those who are granted access to partake in a communion with nature.

Linda

Linda is a truly unique individual. She's honest and candid about her past struggles with addiction, which cost her everything. However, she got help and managed to turn her life around. Her relationship with her husband has shifted from being life partners to a more platonic connection, and only one of her sons still maintains contact with her, as much of her family has ostracized her.

Linda's early life was marked by wealth, she always had beautiful blonde hair, living a very affluent life with her parents and siblings. However, she lacked direction and purpose. She lost control, becoming entangled in the nightlife, eventually becoming pregnant and finding herself unable to care for her child. It was at this point that she decided to enter a recovery program to overcome her addiction and get clean. Which she did get clean, mostly besides weed.

She went on to have a second son and managed to salvage a connection with her husband, if not their marriage itself. Linda faced her consequences head-on and made the conscious choice to rebuild her life. As she shared this story with me, she handed me a joint, and we sat on the highest hill to the right of the field, facing away from the main road. It was 4:30 PM, and the lady and her family were still nowhere to be seen, just their white SUV parked in the field.

We exchanged glances and took one more puff. Gazing out into the orchards, Linda said, "Well, you start walking the top rows, and I'll begin from the bottom. We'll walk each row until we find them." I couldn't help but think that this situation was my responsibility; I had told the family they had 15 minutes, and I should have turned her away. Linda, though irritated by my compliance, had no desire to return home. She had grown to love this orchard, which reminded her of her family's farm from her childhood.

The Walk

I waved as I walked to the left while she headed to the right. There’s a lot of rows to cover and as darkness falls, visibility dwindles. "This is what happens when you make exceptions,I should have been home by now" I mutter to myself as I head towards Row 1, avoiding groundhog holes. There is no cell service out here. I only have a walkie-talkie with a signal to only Linda and the toll house.

Still a bit high, I begin my journey. The rows of apple trees are hypnotizing, their trunks intertwined in perfect statue-like harmony, and the scent of fermentation fills the air from fallen, rotting apples. Every step feels like I'm making no progress at all, but after years of doing this job, I've learned that's how people get lost. Depending on where you are, there's a big white house on a hill, serving as a perfect marker. However, sometimes it's not visible, and every row appears identical to the untrained eye.

When you start working at this farm, walking the orchards once a day becomes your primary job. You begin at one end and spend hours moving down each row one by one. They tell you to sing while you work to maintain your sanity. But after years, I've come to believe it's because the trees enjoy it. Linda has taught me a few songs for our walks, but sometimes I relish feeling lost, caught in a singular moment. Nevertheless, that moment always passes, and I select a song to pass the time, watching the trees sway on either side of me.

As I continue, I realize it's been quite some time. The sun is about to set, so I radio Linda to check which row she's on. She radios back to me that she's almost done, and we each have just two rows left. This family has to be close by now. The sun is setting faster than I anticipated, and I break into a run to cover the remaining rows before sundown. The family is still nowhere to be found.

#short story #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #art #booklr #books #reading #fall aesthetic #fall books #apple orchard

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fanficsfreeideas · 6 months ago

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The night on the rooftop marked a pivotal moment

chapter 14

Angel and Husk settled comfortably in their VIP box, eagerly anticipating the beginning of the gruesome spectacle. Charlie had chosen not to attend, unwilling to witness sinners being executed, regardless of their evil deeds. Alastor sat beside them, his grin broad, while Rosie was close by, holding one of the fawns who was wide awake and happily clapping his hands. Alastor gently rocked the stroller back and forth, ensuring the other two fawns remained peacefully asleep. He was clearly looking forward to the spectacle about to unfold.

As they waited, Adam and Lute zoomed past their box in a rush of energy. Alastor waved enthusiastically, and Lute, grinning mischievously, halted briefly to wave back. "Alas, cheer me on! Forget about sir!" she shouted playfully over the din of the approaching chaos.

Adam burst into laughter, his voice carrying over the noise of the arena, "Hey, bitch! Stop trying to steal my mate!" With a playful gesture, he draped his arm around Lute's shoulders, and they both chuckled together. Locking eyes with Lute, Adam called out to everyone around them, "Get ready, girls! It's time for the fun and games to start!"

The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation as the arena came alive with the release of sinners from various corners, marking the beginning of a frenzied spectacle. The air crackled with tension and excitement, mixing the thrill of the impending battle with the grim reality of what was about to unfold.

In the heart of the arena, sinners emerged from their gates, their eyes gleaming with malice and desperation. Violence painted the arena red as chaos erupted around Rosie and Alastor. Despite the bloodshed and brutality, Rosie cradled the innocent fawn in her lap, a serene contrast amidst the surrounding mayhem. The fawn's laughter rang out like a melody, cutting through the cacophony of screams and clashes of weapons, bringing a moment of peace to the blood-smeared battleground.

Alastor, captivated by the innocence radiating from his son, couldn't help but be drawn into the purity amidst the chaos. Playfully poking at the fawn's nose, he elicited joyful giggles that warmed his hardened heart. In that fleeting moment, amidst the horror and frenzy, a sense of calm settled over him, anchored by the innocence of his child.

As Alastor watched Adam skillfully dispatch sinners with precision and grace, a swell of pride filled him. Adam moved with a deadly elegance, each strike calculated and purposeful. Glancing down at the wide-eyed fawn in Rosie's lap, who watched his father with awe and admiration, Alastor saw the stark duality of their world. Here in the arena, where violence reigned supreme, was also a tender display of paternal love and innocent joy, encapsulated in the gentle laughter of his son amidst the brutality of the spectacle.

The VIP box became a sanctuary of sorts amidst the chaos below, where family and love intermingled with the savagery of the arena. Angel and Husk exchanged glances, understanding the complexities of their world.

In the heart of the arena, amidst the chaotic release of sinners, Angel's singular focus was on witnessing Val's demise. With Husk's, Angel spotted Val attempting to hide, visibly injured with a missing wing and a broken arm. His eyes narrowed with grim determination as he cheered Adam on, urging him to exact justice by ripping Val's head from his body.

Adam, catching Angel's signal, nodded in acknowledgment. With calculated precision, he hurled Val through the air towards Lute, who deftly tossed him back into the fray. Together, Adam and Lute embarked on a relentless assault on Val, each strike infused with vengeance and a determination to deliver retribution.

Lute, though devoid of personal feelings for the spider, fought with fierce resolve for her sir and his newfound family. The pain inflicted by Val upon Angel fueled her resolve to ensure his demise was slow and agonizing. With each calculated move, they tore Val apart piece by piece, methodically dismantling him amidst the tumultuous screams and clashes of the arena.

Their macabre dance continued as they ripped Val's limbs from his body, leaving him a broken, writhing figure in the blood-soaked arena. Finally, Adam retrieved a knife, his expression dark with resolve. With deliberate slowness, he began the grim task of severing Val's head from his body, his actions echoing the chilling calm amidst the chaos.

After the deed was done, Adam flew over to where Angel and Husk were watching from their VIP box. Angel's face was a mix of tears and a smile as Adam approached, holding Val's head. "Catch, spider. Do with it what you want," Adam said, tossing the head towards Angel, who caught it with grim satisfaction. Angel's satisfaction with Val's demise was palpable. He looked down at the severed head in his hands, a twisted smile forming on his lips. "Thanks, big guy. This is... cathartic," he said, glancing up at Adam with a mixture of gratitude and awe.

Husk, leaning against the railing with a cigarette in hand, gave Adam a nod. "You put on one hell of a show," he muttered, taking a drag and blowing the smoke into the air.

Adam grinned, ready to bask in his victory, when Alastor walked over, reached out, and pulled him into a kiss. "Tonight, I will reward you for putting on such a show," Alastor whispered against his lips.

Adam puffed up with pride, winking before replying, "I'm not finished yet, mate."

Although Adam hadn't secured the most kills in the arena that day, his performance still earned him a special reward from Alastor. That night, they fulfilled one of Adam's long-held fantasies: taking Alastor while flying.

The memory of their intimate flight filled Adam with exhilaration. He recalled the feel of Alastor's hands gripping him tightly, the wind rushing past them, and the thrill of their shared passion. Alastor's moans of pleasure had echoed through out there room, making the experience even more thrilling.

As the night deepened, Adam and Alastor lay entwined in each other’s arms, the aftermath of their shared flight still leaving a sense of euphoria in the air. The stars above them seemed to twinkle brighter, as if recognizing the depth of their connection.

Adam traced patterns on Alastor’s back, feeling the residual warmth from their passionate encounter. “I can’t believe we did that,” Adam murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction.

Alastor chuckled softly, nuzzling against Adam’s chest.

Adam’s grin widened. “Well, you did promise me a reward, and I have to say, you never disappoint.”

Alastor’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “And you, my dear, have a way of turning even the darkest moments into something unforgettable.”

Adam slowly started to kiss his mate, then whispered into his ear, "Mate I was also promised I could hunt you down, remember? So get ready to run for me."

Adam slowly sat up, waiting for his mate to take off. Alastor rose with a grin, moving his tail back and forth before saying, "Come and get me," while disappearing into his shadow.

Adam’s eyes widened, then he laughed. "This is going to be fun."

Adam hunted for his mate, catching glimpses of him and hearing his playful taunts echoing in the night. Each encounter was brief, a fleeting touch or a glimpse of Alastor’s grin before he vanished again. The thrill of the chase heightened Adam's senses, making every moment electric.

Finally, Adam caught sight of Alastor, who winked at him before turning and taunting, "I’m waiting to be pinned down. Oh, where is my dear Adam to hold me down?"

With a sudden burst of speed, Adam closed the distance and knocked Alastor down, ensuring his mate landed safely on the ground. He smacked Alastor’s ass, then declared, "My mate."

There was nothing but pure bliss as they gave in to their desires, the intensity of their connection magnified by the thrill of the hunt. The night was filled with passion, their love reaffirmed through the game they played, each moment a testament to the bond they shared.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin husk #hazbin angel dust #adam/alastor #hazbin adam #hazbin rosie #hazbin lute #angelicradio

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lunarburdened · 7 months ago

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tag dump 2/??. genshin edition.

#[ arlecchino ] — the cold one's burning with thrones becoming pyres.#[ lyney snezhevich ] — spectacle of phantasmagoria.#[ lynette snezhevna ] — elegance in the shadows.#[ kamisato ayato ] — pillar of fortitude.#[ aether ] — verdant overgrowth.#[ yū / wanderer ] — take your time all we have is eternity.#[ xingqiu ] — rainbow upon the azure sky.#[ furina de fontaine ] — sinner's finale's through / i'm not alone with you.#[ yae miko ] — everbloom violet.#[ ei ] — reign of serenity.#[ nahida ] — the moongrass' enlightenment.#[ sibylle ] — that's what is expected when you are infected.

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saiilorstars · 1 year ago

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Ch.12: Reign's Secret

Story Masterlist

Fandom: Sailor Moon (Crystal)

Rewrite of season 2, AU-ish in that there’s new OCs and the fusion of plots from the manga, crystal and the og series

Pairings: Eventual OFC x OMC, Usagi x Mamoru

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic @kmc1989

"If you really didn't want to be caught, you should have hidden better." Princess Reign was facing Prince Endymion and the Moon Princess, Serenity, in the gardens of the Earth Palace. Though both were prevented from seeing her face, she was smirking quite widely at the two.

Princess Serenity was scared half to death by the appearance of the strange woman. "Who is she?" she asked Endymion beside her.

"Reign...you cannot tell anyone about this..." Endymion was more pre-occupied with their secrecy being blown than the actual fact neither woman had been introduced to each other.

Behind the enchantment, Reign smiled. "You really have to hide this better. Next time it could be one of your Generals that finds you two."

"Reign..."

The Shadow Princess walked a bit past them, her long purple gown trailing after her. Silently, she raised a perfectly kept hand and both Serenity and Endymion watched as a silver and purple light emitted into the air.

"What are you doing?" Serenity curiously asked.

"I'm doing something useful with my abilities. Mother never really gave me the opportunity to practice," Reign stepped back and turned to the pair. "This is a barrier I've created. It's a one way barrier. You can't see from outside but you can see from inside. I hope it becomes useful for you two."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I know a thing or two about imposed rules," Reign responded with mighty sadness in her voice. "Our parents decided things for us when we were children but I feel like...we should have a voice ourselves. Even though I'm not a child anymore, I know what it's like. But Endymion, if you want me to keep quiet, I do want to ask your Generals to teach me how to wield a sword. It looks like fun."

"I should have known you'd ask something like that in return." And yet Endymion did not sound upset over it. Most women on Earth wouldn't even think about touching a sword, after all.

"I will take that as a 'yes, of course Reign. Anything for you, my friend'." Reign chuckled and waved the two off with a hand.

The recent memory Mamoru had was shared with Usagi at once. It was their deal - between them - to share anything they remembered related to Princess Reign and Shadow with each other. Last night, Mamoru had finally begun to remember more about Reign and he was a little relieved to discover he hadn't kept Reign a secret from Usagi - then Serenity.

"It's weird, because I can't remember that yet," Usagi sighed as they walked towards their favorite park of the city.

"But this further implies that there was some sort of acknowledgment between the Moon Kingdom and the Shadow Kingdom by parts of mothers and daughters," Mamoru remarked.

"Jot that down for one of Azula's many theories," Usagi playfully rolled her eyes. "Can you believe she's making an entire list of theories concerning Reign and her planet?"

"Uh, yeah..." Mamoru stopped walking just by the park fountain and turned to the one bench across them. He pointed at it and Usagi followed his finger to the bench where a familiar red-haired girl sat, engulfed in a notepad.

"Azula?" she called.

"Hm?" Azula looked up with wide eyes from her writing and smiled at the sight of her friends. "Hey guys!" she uncrossed her legs to get up and slung her red bag over her neck before running towards them.

"Were you making another theory list?" Usagi wondered and eyed the notebook in Azula's left hand.

"You bet your ass I was!" Azula waved the journal. "It's how I think, and there's a lot to think about. I mean, if Reign was a Sailor Guardian then will she awaken quicker? And can you imagine what her abilities would be like?"

"I imagine they're dark," Mamoru offered with a tilt of his head.

"That makes sense," Azula quickly jotted the idea down on the page. "Shadow does imply darkness" — she spoke as she wrote — "and it—"

"And I remembered her using some of her powers," Mamoru finished for her.

Azula whipped her head up with a questionable look. "You did what now?"

"Apparently, Reign can create barriers of some sort..." Usagi explained but was subjected to an even more confused look from Azula. "Also, I may or may not have known her in our other lives."

"So there was contact between your people and the Shadow people!" Azula beamed. "More theories!"

Usagi watched her friend go ecstatic with rambles of new possible theories 'We hadn't thought of' until a strange noise interrupted Azula. Something dropped and bounced off Mamoru's head before reaching the ground.

"Ow!"

When Usagi and Azula looked up, there were two very different reactions. Usagi was in awe at what was in the sky while Azula was furious.

"You have got to be kidding me!" She looked at Usagi and Mamori with a flat face just before something crashed over her and knocked her flat on the ground.

Both Mamoru and Usagi gaped as a pink-haired girl raised her head from Azula's chest.

"You can't do this!" Azula basically shouted at the sky. "I'm a human being, dammit, not a frickin bouncy house! Usagi, Mamoru, don't just stand there like a couple of idiots, get her off me!"

The pink-haired girl whipped her head in Usagi's direction. When she did, her big hair accidentally smacked Azula on the face. She growled until she saw the familiar hair style on the child.

"Hey, Usagi, she has the same hairstyle as you."

Usagi saw that too and scowled. "What a copycat!" This did not please the little girl.

"I'm not a copycat!" she screeched.

"Listen I don't care what the hell you are, I just need you to get off me!" Azula was an inch away from simply pushing the girl to the ground. This one didn't seem at all regretful of her entrance unlike Reyna.

"Who the hell are you!?" Usagi didn't hesitate to demand. One hand of hers was touching her hair.

"I'm Tsukino Usagi," the child introduced herself but in an irritated manner. Usagi nearly lost it then.

"Why do you have my name!?"

While Azula was confused as well, she was focusing on just one thing right now: the fact children saw her as a landing spot. "Well, Chibi-usa, if you don't get off me in the next minute I am going to—" Something clicked in front of Azula's forehead that made her freeze.

The girl, now nicknamed Chibiusa apparently, had pulled a gun out of nowhere and was holding it steadily in her hand. "Be quiet," she ordered so plainly it was like a regular thing was being done. With one swift movement she redirected the gun in Usagi's direction.

The three teenagers couldn't move from their shock.

"If you're Tsukino Usagi, then you have to have the Legendary Silver Crystal," Chibiusa narrowed her eyes on the blonde. "Hand it over!" Usagi looked like she was going to pass out any second now. Chibiusa did not falter. "I said hand it over!"

"Oh hell no!" Azula twisted her body over and thus threw Chibiusa to the ground.

The pistol fell to the ground and rang as it 'fired'. The noise was enough to throw Usagi off by thinking that a bullet had gotten her. She fell back on the ground, eyes wide and glued on the gun...and then she realized that instead of a bullet, the gun had sprouted flowers.

"Kid, you're in a lot of trouble!" Azula hovered over Chibiusa. This left her mighty vulnerable when Chibiusa kicked her straight in the stomach. Azula shrieked and fell flat on her back beside Chibiusa. Chibiusa jumped on her feet and ran off at the first chance.

"Who the hell does that little girl think she is!?" Usagi screamed after the girl as she got up.

"Usagi!" Mamoru gestured to their friend currently on the ground groaning in pain.

"Right, sorry!" Usagi said and the two went to check on Azula. "Azula, are you okay!?"

"A little girl fell on me, pulled a gun on me, then kicked me in the stomach," Azula reviewed the happenings as she was helped up. "How do you think I'm feeling?"

Usago sheepishly smiled in response. "Sorry."

"Sorry she almost shot you," Azula said a moment later.

"That girl mentioned the Silver Crystal..." Mamoru was in the middle of thinking. He and Usagi pulled Azula up to her feet. "And she looked like she knew you, Usagi."

"Well we could have known that by the fact they share the same name," Azula rubbed her stomach in circles. "Usagi, you don't know her?"

Usagi huffed. "I would remember her!"

"We should find her nonetheless," Mamoru declared and already looked around for the girl.

"Yes," agreed Azula, "And then bill her for my medical expenses."

The three went around the park looking together for Chibiusa. Since the park wasn't that big they didn't have to search very long. Usagi spotted the girl sitting in one of the swings on her own.

"She looks so lost," Mamoru remarked thoughtfully but was subjected by two very crossed girls beside him. He ignored them in favor of making talk with Chibiusa. "Hey, Chibiusa, are you lost?" Chibiusa's head snapped up and she shifted on her swing to see the three coming towards her. She looked ready to jump off and run again. "If you're lost, we can help you," Mamoru insisted. "We helped another little girl get back home so I'm sure we can do the same for you."

Chibiusa's face softened and for one moment she looked like a scared little girl. Mamoru extended a hand towards her and even though she doubted him for a second, Chibiusa took it. As soon as their hands touched, Mamoru saw a rush of images in his mind.

A crystallized palace under a terrible dark sky; something glowed at its center in the air; a familiar girl cried 'Mommy'!'.

"Mamo-chan, she might pull a real gun this time," Usagi muttered from behind him, unknowingly snapping him out of the weird trance of images.

"I don't know, she seems pretty normal..." he based his his judgement on the still girl in his arms.

Azula had something to say about that. "That's what you said about Reyna and where did that get us? Oh, right, with some freaky future Sailor Guardian."

"Reyna..." Chibiusa suddenly said with such sadness that it made all three stop and stare.

"Did she just say Reyna...?" Usagi whispered.

"Mhm," Azula nodded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously on the girl.

"Do you happen to know Reyna?" Mamoru saw no danger in asking. "Small girl, ginger hair, green eyes?"

"Attitude, kind of annoying, not that good of a drawer?" added Azula. Chibiusa shot her a small glare and refused to answer. Azula raised an eyebrow at her and shook her head. "You know what? I'm not doing this again. You" — she pointed to Usagi and Mamoru — "can deal with the falling kid this time. I'm out."

"Azula—"

"Nope. I got theories to work on," Azula motioned to her partially dirty notebook now. "Good luck." She gave a wave with her hand and started leaving as fast as possible before any other kids decided to drop from the sky on her.

~0~

The next day, Azula was presenting her theories to Meroko and Asteria in the Crown Fruit cafe. The two sisters sat across from Azula who was flanked by Ami and Minako. Rei and Makoto were in the process of ordering something from the display glass up front.

"Is it possible that if she's a Sailor Guardian too that we could just trigger her awakening?"

"We are not trying to find a Sailor Guardian, we are trying to find our Princess," Asteria responded with the usual coldness and snappiness she wore.

"But this would make it easier, genius," Azula snapped back. "Just like you were triggered we could do the same for Reign and your other comrades."

"Azula, Reign wasn't allowed to practice," Meroko disclosed what Asteria wouldn't. She ignored Asteria's disapproving stare and continued to explain. "She was in constant danger. We couldn't allow her to show off that she was a Sailor Guardian."

"So you never let her train?" Minako gaped. "That's horrible!"

"No, it was a precaution," Asteria corrected, affronted.

"But not allowing her to fully grasp her powers was a bigger danger!"

"She didn't need to practice because she had Guardians around her!"

"And that worked out how well, again?" Azula asked calmly. She almost smirked when Asteria huffed.

"I need a drink." Asteria slid out of the booth and walked to the counter.

"Your sister doesn't like hearing the truth much, does she?" Azula went back to the theories on the table.

"It's hard knowing that we failed," Meroko spoke quietly.

"But this the chance to get her back so we shouldn't think about what you didn't do," Ami spoke up after reading off a paper.

"Hey, it's Usagi," Minako pointed at the blonde who walked in with a face of dread. "I wonder what's wrong?"

"Oh, I might know," Azula smirked and started gathering the papers on the table. As she suspected, Usagi was upset and frustrated over Chibiusa who had somehow gained a place at Usagi's house and even became one of the members of her family — literally.

"Isn't that what Reyna did too?" Rei asked before sipping from her milkshake.

"Yup," Azula closed the folder in front of her. "As far as my Dad and Keiko knew, Reyna was my little sister. She, like, brainwashed them or something."

"That's exactly what Chibiusa did!" Usagi groaned.

"Do you think they're from the same place?" Makoto wondered with a finger against her chin.

"Or related?" added Minako.

"Could be," Ami thought about it for a moment. "If they exhibit similar behavioral patterns as well as similar abilities, then..."

"Well, unlike Reyna, Chibiusa doesn't do a lot of talking," sighed Usagi. "I asked her questions last night but instead I got in trouble for picking on her."

"She is just a child, after all," Meroko inputted. "We have to be cautious."

"A child is still capable of being an enemy," Asteria remarked as she returned to the table with a milkshake in hand — she discovered blueberry milkshakes — and sat back down in her spot. "Don't let age fool you. If the child has intentions, and they're dark, she will carry them out and use her biggest advantages against her enemies."

"For once I agree with Frost over here," Usagi sighed and rested a hand on her cheek. "Chibiusa is hiding something. I know she is."

"So was I when it came to Reyna and it turned out she was from the future," Azula reminded her. "Asteria makes some sense. Just because these are children, doesn't mean they don't hold information that could hurt us."

"I think we're forgetting that Reyna was guarded and protected by the future version of Sailor Circe," Meroko pointed out, making her stance on these kids more than clear. "And if Chibiusa is from the same time and place, who's to say she didn't fall under the same protection from a different Sailor Guardian?"

"I swear to God, children complicate everything. It's why I'm not having any," Azula promised as she got up to go order something.

"That's what you said about never having a boyfriend and you've had two," Minako remarked.

"Shut up," Azula pointed and walked off.

Usagi didn't want to bother about Chibiusa for a while and so she focused on their other, bigger problem instead. "So, what's new with Reign?"

"Azula was showing us the theories she came up with," Ami was happy to help with moving subjects. She pushed the manila folder - left behind by Azula - so that Usagi could take a look. "They're interesting and possibly useful."

"Wow, Azula got straight to work," Usagi's eyes widened a bit at the notes scribbled in front of her.

"Which is more than can be said for you," Asteria didn't fail to remark. "It's a shame, really, that the Moon Princess turns out to be less useful than a human."

Usagi growled and gripped the papers in her hands. Meroko sighed from her seat and turned to to her sister. "Asteria, why don't you go home? I know you were having trouble with that Calculus homework Nano gave us today."

"Whatever," Asteria rolled her eyes. She took a sip from her milkshake and got out from the booth.

"I know she's your sister but does she have to be so rude?" Usagi didn't notice she was still gripping the papers in her hands. "I have a lot to deal with and I don't have to take such rudeness from her!"

"Usagi, I swear to God, you better not rip my notes," Azula startled the blonde behind her chair.

"Ah!" Usagi quickly let go of the papers when she realized how white her fingers were. "Sorry," she apologized and gathered up the papers. "Asteria just got to me."

"Tune her out," Azula took a seat beside Again and Makoto, smiling sneakily. "That's what I've learned to do."

"Alright, enough," Meroko understood her sister had a harder personality but it didn't mean she liked people talking about her. "So the theory about triggering Reign's awakening - it's a good idea but Reign never truly practiced her powers. If anything, we should be looking at the things that she most cared about."

"Like what?" asked Minako.

"The Shadow Dominion, of course," Meroko shrugged.

"You really think that's what Reign loved most?" Makoto raised an eyebrow, her face spelling utter doubt.

"It has to be. It was her main responsibility."

"Responsibilities aren't always loved, you know," Azula mumbled and sucked on her straw.

"Perhaps we could make a list?" Ami suggested.

"Yeah, fine," Meroko shrugged.

"Waiting a second," Rei tilted her head. "How long did Reign live with the human Kingdom? Because if it was long, then it's possible maybe Mamoru or even Usagi can add new things to the list."

"I doubt it," Meroko shook her head but Usagi agreed with Rei.

"Mamoru remembered Reign calling him her friend. You said she didn't have friends!"

"Well, she was locked in the palace—"

"Exactly, so maybe Mamo-chan actually knows more than you," Usagi dared to believe. "Friends confide in each other."

"You're implying he was closer to our Princess than we were," Meroko frowned, looking much like Asteria had most of the afternoon. "That's ridiculous."

"I don't think so," Rei said casually and ignored Meroko's short glare. "If she was locked away by her own guardians and treated as just the princess, then I can see Reign confiding in someone else besides than you four."

"Before you literally explode—" Azula shot Meroko a concerned glance since the brunette was going red in the face, "—how's about you and Asteria make that list about Reign and Mamoru can make his? Plain and simple. We all want the same thing after all which is to find Reign before Senka does."

"Fine," Meroko leaned back in her seat. "But you're not gonna have anything better than what Asteria and I are gonna have."

"Wow," Azula snorted, "Spoken like a true, mature Sailor Scout."

"Oh, shut up!"

~0~

"You want me to...what now?" Mamoru stared at the empty notepad in front of him that Usagi had placed for him.

Usagi groaned and went back to explain their new plan they had made in the café shop. "We need to show them that Reign confided in you more than her Scouts."

"And you're okay with that?" because Mamoru was in reality surprised Usagi hadn't thrown a jealousy fit over this other Princess.

Usagi crossed her arms and thought about it herself for a second. "Well, it's not exactly in my favorites right now but I hate Asteria more."

"She's...a complicated one..." Mamoru agreed. "Even in the past Reign would complain about that."

Usagi blinked and got on the couch with him. "Really?"

"Yeah. I remembered something about that last night. She told me about her guardians, every single one. Sailor Hemera was the Scout she seemed closest too but...I don't know, then Reign sometimes felt like she couldn't trust in Hemera because of the duties separating them."

"How awful," Usagi said. Perhaps this was another reason why she wasn't as jealous as everyone thought she'd be. Princess Reign had not expressed any affectionate feelings for Endymion in the past. If anything, it looked like Reign searched for a friend. "I remember I was still really good friends with everyone in Silver Millennium. Sure, the girls knew they had duties but we were still actual friends."

"I guess it was just too formal with them," Mamoru shrugged. He thought about his Generals and recalled that while being slightly more formal than Usagi's court, there was still a type of friendship between them. "So...you want me to prove that Reign confided in me more than her actual Scouts?"

Usagi clapped her hands together with a beaming smile. "You would be the best boyfriend!"

~0~

Under a gloomy sky, Azula walked into the local elementary school intending on finding her sister, Keiko, who worked in the office as a secretary. She pulled her green coat closer to her when she started feeling more of the chilly wind that just screamed rain was coming. She was sure she'd heard some distant thunder crackling in the sky on her way from the café. She hoped it wouldn't rain at least until Keiko and she got back home.

Azula pushed open the metal gate of the school's entrance and started down the cobblestone pathway. She came to an abrupt stop when she spotted a familiar pink-haired girl lonesomely sitting on a blue bench. Azula glanced around for anyone of Usagi's family before turning directions.

"Chibiusa?" she called. Chibiusa looked up from her lap and Azula was witness to a plain sad face. "I guess you got yourself integrated into Usagi's family but didn't remember you'd be going to school, huh? Not the bargain you were looking for, I imagine."

Chibiusa's thin eyebrows knitted together in mild annoyance. "Do you know if Usagi is coming for me?"

Azula was sure Usagi was with Mamoru probably coming up with that list they'd settled on earlier. "Um, was she supposed to pick you up?"

Chibiusa gave a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know. I think so. But she probably forgot."

"Give her credit. Yesterday, she didn't have a 'cousin' who lived with her," Azula gave the girl a significant look. "You may have hypnotized her family but you're not getting away with having Usagi too."

The sound of thunder cracking hard made Chibiusa jump from the bench, her fingers becoming white as they gripped onto her backpack's straps. Azula observed the obvious fear in the girl with silence.

"Afraid of thunder?"

Chibiusa nodded her head.

"It's not that bad. There's only like a one in a billion chance of you getting struck by lightning," Azula stopped when Chibiusa did another gasp. "I...am not good with kids, even time-travelling kids."

"You know...?" Chibiusa stiffened and Azula noticed how Chibiusa's hand reached up to a silver necklace around her neck. It held a familiar silver key with a heart shaped handle, along with a silver crystal Azula couldn't quite see.

"I was 98% sure but you just confirmed it so thanks for that," Azula could not help herself and flashed Chibiusa a smug smile.

Chibiusa, in all her childish faces, stomped her foot and moved towards Azula. Her attempt to seem threatening was rudely interrupted by another round of thunder in the sky. She jumped and instead ended up falling on Azula who abruptly caught her.

"Seriously?" Azula laughed as she was forced a couple steps back from the force. "I'm just gonna have to carry a sign on me that says 'not a cushion'.'

Chibiusa didn't pay attention. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her arms were gripping Azula's waist. It was then that Azula felt her shaking. It was hard being detached when the girl was so clearly scared.

"Hey, kid, look, it's just thunder..." Azula realized those weren't the most comforting words but what else could she say?

"Azula?" Keiko startled the two. Chibiusa turned sideways to see the taller adult woman. "Who's this?"

"Uuh... Usagi's cousin..." Azula warned Chibiusa not to try anything on her sister, especially that hypnosis trick of hers.

"Adorable," Keiko smiled at Chibiusa then looked to Azula. "Dad says he's gonna wait for us at the restaurant so we should hurry up."

"Um..." Azula had planned on coming to the school with a good excuse on why she couldn't have dinner with her father and sister but with Chibiusa she'd forgotten to make one up. Luckily, Azula thought fast on her feet. "I can't. Usagi's family had an emergency and they asked if I could babysit Chibiusa."

"What?" Chibiusa frowned up at Azula but the red-haired girl went 'shhh' in her direction.

"Oh, what happened?" Keiko quickly looked to Chibiusa for the explanation.

"Usagi, that clutz," Azula chuckled. "Tripped on her own feet." That excuse made Chibiusa smile. "Nothing serious but I still have to look after Chibiusa."

"Alright then," Keiko nodded, completely understanding. "Well I'm gonna leave you by the apartment since it looks ready to rain at any moment now. Let's go."

Chibiusa tried speaking up even as Azula pulled her with them. "But Usagi was—"

"If you stay quiet and play along you can have my chocolate stash," Azula whispered. "Future kids still like chocolate, right?"

The great smirk on Chibiusa's face said it all.

~0~

"Are you sure you can do that? Or want to do that?" Usagi couldn't help make the face she was after hearing Azula say she would be taking care of Chibiusa for the night....and also being told to say she'd been in the hospital if anyone asked.

"Look, it's better than being forced to have a fake fancy dinner with my Dad and Keiko. You and Mamoru just focus on getting that list done for tomorrow. I'll call you guys later! Bye!" Azula hung up on the call.

Usagi placed the phone back in its holder and turned back to Mamoru. "So somehow Chibiusa found a way to nestle into Azula's home. I'm telling you that girl - Mamo-chan?" she noticed that her words weren't exactly registering with him. He was just...staring into space.

Two swords clanged when they touched sides. Reign had a smug face behind her enchantment as she pushed her sword ahead, its tip missing Endymion's face by inches.

"I told you I was good," she said, mildly breathless.

"You are unorthodox," Endymion remarked, though he was no longer surprised.

With a laugh, Reign pulled back her sword and used it only to point at him. "This coming from the Earth Prince secretly meeting with a Moon Princess while also housing the secret Shadow Princess. Yeah, I'm the unorthodox person here."

"Easy there, Reign, I could give the orders to my Generals to cease practice with you..."

Reign laughed again. "Sure. But you won't."

"And why not?"

"Because I'm your friend and friends don't do that to each other. That's what Serenity says."

Endymion paused, confused for a second. "What - you've talked to Serenity? When!?"

Reign innocently fixed her hair behind her shoulders. "She doesn't always come to see you."

This time Endymion laughed. Reign took her chance to begin sword fighting again. She yielded her sword and went in again, but of course her lack of experience made it easier for Endymion to catch her off guard. His sword clanged as it hit hers but it then swiftly moved underneath and with his force he pushed her backwards. Reign fell on the ground with a slash on her left arm.

"Reign!" Endymion panicked and dropped his sword. He quickly went to help the Princess who was laughing at the incident. "Reign, you're hurt—"

"It's okay, watch," Reign had pushed his hands from her and gestured him to watch the cut on his arm.

Little by little, the cut on her arm began to seal away as if it had never been there in the first place. Endymion was in shock but Reign was quite used to it.

"She could heal herself," Mamoru remembered and quickly jotted it down. "She had super healing abilities!"

Beside him, Usagi asked for an explanation of what he saw.

~0~

Azula and Chibiusa ate take-out together in Azula's family's apartment. It was silent except for the crunching and mushing of their food. After Chibiusa finished, she made a clearing of her throat that, on the first time, Azula didn't understand its meaning. When Chibiusa cleared her throat a second time she motioned to her mouth. "Chocolate?"

"Oh," Azula got out from her chair and went to the kitchen cabinets. "You can't tell anyone, alright?" she warned Chibiusa as she took out a jar with 'keratin vitamins' printed on its front side.

"What's Keratin?" Chibiusa leaned over the table and squinted her eyes to get a better look. "And where's my chocolate?"

Azula pulled the lid off and surprised Chibiusa by pulling out a chocolate bar. "Right here, kid." She walked back to the table and set the jar down on the table. She slid the chocolate bar to Chibiusa and watched in amusement as Chibiusa practically stuck her face into the jar. "Yeah, my Dad's pretty big on sweets and he limits them so I had to come up with smart ways to eat some. Keratin vitamins is for your hair but I just stick my candy in there. He'll never look into it."

Chibiusa laughed as she took a seat again. "That's sneaky."

"But smart," Azula tool the jar back to the kitchen, but not before taking out a chocolate bar for herself.

"You don't get along with your parents either, huh?"

The question made Azula stop just as she opened the cabinet to return the jar. "Um...I mean..." she slowly placed the bar on the shelf and closed the cabinet door. "I love my Dad, I do, and I know he loves me too, but...most of the time we don't see eye to eye." She came back to the table and took a seat in the chair next to Chibiusa. "I mean, he's a businessman and he has ideas for me that I don't quite...agree with."

"Like what?" Chibiusa busied herself by unwrapping the chocolate bar.

"Well, he wants me to take over the business he has with the Furuhatas when I grow up. We're part owners of the arcade and the cafe the girls and I go to. Keiko's already in training but that's still just an intern. It's why she works at your school still. I don't really see myself as a business woman."

"What do you want to be?"

"I want to do research," Azula began smiling without realizing it. Chibiusa quietly ate her chocolate and really stared at Azula. "Specifically, space research. Ever since the Sailor Scouts arrived, I'm really interested in knowing what else is out there in the galaxies."

Chibiusa dared, for a second, to believe that perhaps Azula had the Legendary Silver Crystal but the idea lasted for a millisecond because of new, stronger thunder crashing down on the city. She jumped in her chair and quickly went to hide under the table.

"Kid, come on out of there," Azula backed her chair a bit to see Chibiusa. "It's really just thunder. Look, come out," she held a hand out and because more thunder cracked Chibiusa latched onto it like her life depended on it. "There's this game that my Mom used to play with me when I was small and there were thunderstorms."

"You were afraid too?" Chibiusa spoke softly.

Azula smiled. "Yeah, once upon a time until I figured out the odds were with me. But see, all you have to do is count is to ten."

"And then the thunder is supposed to sound farther away," Chibiusa finished as she understood perfectly how the game was meant to go.

"Oh?" Azula raised an eyebrow, "So you know the game?"

Chibiusa nodded, her voice quieting down. The sadness and plain fear Chibiusa wore made Azula falter for a moment. It reminded her that while mysterious, Chibiusa was still just a child...and she was a child who was afraid of the dark.

"Chibiusa, where are your parents?" Azula asked with all honesty, and Chibiusa knew it. It was not a demand, it was not to gather information. Azula simply wanted to know how parents could leave Chibiusa on her own like this. "I know Reyna traveled back here without her parents' consent—"

"Reyna's okay, alright?" Chibiusa had cut her off rather defensively which caught Azula off guard. "She's fine!" she ran off into Azula's room and closed the door.

"Why do they always go into my room?" Azula mumbled and sighed.

~0~

"It's the Shadow Crystal that allows me to heal rapidly," Princess Reign explained while she and Endymion took a walk in the palace's gardens. "It grants me all these abilities that I secretly use."

"Secretly?" Endymion caught on fast.

"My mother disapproves of my usage of the crystal."

"But I didn't see the Shadow Crystal when you healed yourself..."

Reign came to a slow stop and faced Endymion with an indescribable expression. "You have been my friend for a while now, my only friend actually besides Serenity, and so I feel like I can trust you. The Shadow Crystal is inside me. I guard it with every fiber of my being."

"That sounds...like a true burden," Endymion knew that it had to be part of the reason why Reign always carried herself with such dread and caution.

"It's part of it," Reign agreed. "The Crystal's main power is what can drive people against me."

"You say it like it's already happened...."

"We call it the tale of the Forbidden Soldier," Reign bit her lip. Apparently even the name made her nervous. "And then a powerful force heard about my power. It was why we fled to safety. It destroyed our planet and nearly our entire people."

Usagi wasn't sure what Mamoru was seeing but she did know it had to be a lot judging by how fast he scribbling down each time he got out of his trance.

~ 0 ~

Azula slowly unlocked her bedroom door as quietly as possible. She suspected Chibiusa was fast asleep since there'd been no noise for quite a while now. Azula poked her head inside and, sure enough, spotted Chibiusa on her bed quite asleep. The pink-haired girl was clutching that ball of hers she named 'LunaP'.

"Knew it," Azula barely got to say when she noticed Chibiusa's face was scrunched up like she was having a nightmare. "Chibiusa?"

"No, no, I'm so sorry - Reyna! It's my fault I-I - NO!"

Azula felt something weird in the pit of her stomach when she heard Reyna's name. Chibiusa sounded terrified, and the way she had said Reyna's name implied true guilt and despondency. "What happened?"

She ran out of the room and went straight for her phone in the living room. She dialed Usagi's number fast and could barely contain herself when the line was picked on. Azula explained what had happened with Chibiusa and how she'd heard Chibiusa's dream word.

"She knows Reyna for sure. And I think something may have happened to her!" Azula ran a hand through her hair, "And it's bad."

"We'll figure that out, I promise," Usagi reassured from the end of the line. "I knew that Chibiusa was hiding something. I just knew it!"

"Yeah, but how are we gonna make Chibiusa tell us what she knows?"

"We'll figure out a way, I promise. Look, if it helps you in any way, Mamo-chan found something incredible or...he remembered it, I guess, about Reign. Something super important, secret... something that none of her Scouts knew."

"What is it?" Azula curiously asked and attentively listened to what Usagi had to say. When it was done, Azula's face practically fell of shock

~0~

Meroko and Asteria both sat in one side of a booth with arms crossed and straight faces. One note pad stood between them on the table.

"You think you know Reign more than we do?" Asteria demanded, clearly still not buying such a thing.

Mamoru, Usagi and Azula all sat on the other side of the booth, each completely matching with their smug smirks. Beside the booth were the rest of the girls anxiously waiting to see the results of this little competition.

"Yes, completely," Mamoru nodded and the fact that he seemed so certain, even kind of smug, made Meroko weary.

"Welli?" Asteria motioned to see the notepad.

"Oh, what I know should never be written down anywhere," Mamoru said quietly, "It should barely even be talked about."

This time, both Meroko and Asteria glanced at each other with the same confusion.

"Um, okay," Meroko said slowly, "Can...can we just know what it is already?"

"Now," Asteria demanded.

Mamoru smirked. "I know the way into the Shadow Dominion."

The statement made both sisters freeze. Neither of them knew the way to the infamous realm. Reign had never told them such a secret. In fact, they were sure that it had to be forbidden to even talk about it. It made no sense that someone like Mamoru would know the way.

And yet, Mamoru went on like he hadn't just uttered the most important statement in their lives. He knew that whatever the two sisters had written down on their notepads about Reign would never top the information that he knew. "It's the reason why Reign was reincarnated in the first place. Without her in existence, the Gates of the Shadow Dominion can't keep hold. Why? Because the way to the Shadow Dominion is through Reign herself. She wasn't just a person, she was a portal."

#ocappreciation #allaboutocs #ochub #fd: sailor moon #sailor moon #sailor moon crystal #sailor moon fics #sailor moon imagines #sailor moon ocs #sailormoonocs #sailor moon crystal fics #sailor moon crystal imagines #oc: azula keena #fic: reign from the shadows

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