#“i leave them i death's care” what if i stab my own feet. huh? what u gonna do about that?

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 314: ...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

Previously on BnHA: Some random assholes were all “let’s throw exploding spears at All Might and see if it activates his Conqueror’s Haki” and SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS, IT DID!! Elsewhere, Lady Nagant confusingly tried to capture Deku alive by shooting him in the stomach, but to be fair I guess that’s what happens when you send an assassin to do a bounty hunter’s job, so yeah. Deku was all “ouch”, and then because this is a shounen he basically just straight up forgot about it, and did a big fancy Smokescreen thing, and then activated his mildly incomprehensible new ki-blasting quirk which he got from the Third. En and the Third were all “hey Deku maybe let’s not just impulsively activate all this shit in the heat of battle when you don’t know how to use it yet and you’re already injured,” and Deku was all “thanks for the quirks guys but I’ll take it from here” and snuck up on Nagant and grabbed her arm and so now what’s going to happen I wonder.

Today on BnHA: Nagant is all “[shoots Deku again]” because of course she is lol. Deku is all “tell me about AFO!” and Nagant is all “why would I tell you anything?” and then proceeds to tell him her entire life story which is FILLED WITH SO MUCH MURDER, YOU GUYS. Holy shit. So basically she was an assassin for the HPSC, which we already knew, but somehow it’s one thing to know that, and another to actually see her running around capping dudes in the forehead and being covered in more blood than the elevator from The Shining. Anyway, so you’ll never believe it, but all that murder had a negative impact on her psychologically, and eventually led her to question everything she believed about hero society, and so she killed her creepy boss and was promptly sent to Tartarus. This extremely fun chapter ends with Overhaul showing up all “HI, HELLO, I’M STILL HERE”, because for some reason he is still here. Why are you still here, Overhaul.

“the beautiful Lady Nagant” oh you know your audience don’t you Horikoshi

well all right then! so I’m guessing this means that she is not, in fact, going to roll over and die just because Deku’s out here all “GOT YA!” like they’re playing a game or tag or something. ffff may the manga gods have mercy on our young suicidal protagonist

lmao so Deku is all “GOD I’M SO SMART, WHAT A GOOD STRATEGY I HAD, CAPITOL JOB THERE OL’ CHAP, CAPITOL” and lol, okay. I mean, it was a good plan though. but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop here

“I’ll make you give me information on All for One” well there you go, lol. Deku Angst arc still fully engaged. still no light in his eyes either of course. just a lil chaotic ball of sleep deprivation and rage

lol, fucking THANK YOU though

oh my god what the hell did she do to him lol

did she shoot him with her elbow??? fucking look at this?? THIS IS WHY WE LISTEN TO HAWKS oh my god Deku are you dead

WHAT’S HAPPENING, IS THIS GOOD OR BAD, WHO’S WINNING

things that I wish I could tell from this panel which I unfortunately cannot tell

did she stab him or shoot him?? can you imagine if it was the former lol. why does Horikoshi keep stabbing all my kids. look Kacchan now the two of you can match

did she actually hit him or did he get away??

or did she hit him and then he jumped away?? just, what

well anyway, so now Deku is asking her why she sided with AFO, but he seems a lot more pissed off than when he was interrogating Muscular, though. probably because she shot him three times. fair enough

oh my god

does Lady have a blog here on tumblr dot com?? -- does Horikoshi have a blog here on tumblr motherfucking dot com?? why do I suddenly feel like this man is out here sneakily reading up on all our discourse

oh my god Deku it’s almost like getting up close and personal with someone who can shoot custom bullets from any distance and any position with deadly accuracy was a terrible fucking idea

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD WARNED YOU NOT TO ENGAGE WITH HER AT ALL COSTS. IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD HAD THE FORESIGHT TO DO THAT sob. can you imagine how much shorter this series would be if characters actually listened to Hawks. Hawks, and Momo. why do we even let anyone else run the show ever

OH MY GOD

DEKU, RUN

OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

this looks a lot like what happens to me whenever I play One’s Justice. those fucking combo attacks that you can’t fucking escape from and so your character just has to stand there getting their ass whalloped repeatedly while you wonder why you paid $40 for this

but anyways though. so Lady who did you kill?? I bet they deserved it, don’t worry I forgive you

(ETA: ANYWAY SO FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT LADY NAGANT DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. aside from murdering all those innocent people and shit. but there were CIRCUMSTANCES, and THEY WERE EXTENUATING, OKAY.)

-- holy shit

looks like the HPSC arc is back on the menu boys

so are we about to learn that the HPSC was going full Hydra on people’s asses? secretly dispatching anyone they deemed a threat to society?? “taken care of” as in you fucking shot them??

so then was the “hero” she killed actually one of the guys who was giving or carrying out these orders?? holy shit Lady, up until now I’ve mainly just been stanning you for your flawless eyebrow game and metal af quirk, but this shit could actually get real very quickly, and I am prepared to genuinely and sincerely love the shit out of you depending on what we learn next about your backstory

oh my god?!?

so wait, hold up. am I reading this right?? basically the HPSC started murdering vigilantes because they were worried they were gaining too much of the public’s favor?? holy fucking shit???

oh my GOD oh my god

“it’s been a while since I scarred you all with the dead dog and the graphic slaughter of an entire innocent family, huh,” Horikoshi says thoughtfully. “anyway so what do you all think of my new creation, the Spaghetti Bullet.” well, Horikoshi, so you know that squished-up face that Kermit the Frog makes sometimes? yeah. that’s what I think, if you must know lol

holy hell the juxtaposition

I’m actually kind of surprised to learn she had a lot of fans? what with her M.O., I was expecting her to have been an underground hero like Aizawa, but apparently not? then again I still have absolutely no idea how any of that works. I really need to read Vigilantes already

oh snap

nothing like a sweet dose of assassin trauma to finally round out our BnHA Trauma Bingo!! well done guys, we finally collected all of the traumas! hooray!

noooo Ladyyyyyyy

holy shit what a fucking chapter. like, this man promised us an assassin, and went and fucking delivered. I was not expecting it to be this dark, lol, but holy shit I am here for it

you know, at some point you have to start questioning the logistics of this, though

I mean, how do I put this... her quirk isn’t exactly subtle. that murder scene from a few pages back looked like the first season of Dexter for fuck’s sake, that’s not exactly “disappearing” people now is it?? and I mean, her bullets are literally made from her own fucking hair; it seems like it would be impossible not to leave any evidence behind. did no one start to wonder who the fuck was going around murdering all these people? or did the people who asked too many questions wind up getting conveniently “disappeared” themselves??

and hey, speaking of asking too many questions

holy shit is he blackmailing her??!? or no, wait -- what the hell is he reaching for in his pocket boy you better not

(ETA: what exactly was this man expecting fdslkjd. “uh oh my unstoppable hair trigger assassin who is literally always armed is asking questions, better announce that I am going to shoot her and then reach into my pocket veeeeeery slowly while she stands there all of two feet away.” how did this guy ever function as the head of a shadow government with these decision-making skills, I’m genuinely baffled.)

OH MY GOD LADY YES

this. right here. is why “run the fuck away” was damn good solid fucking advice. oh shit. but my god did this dude have it coming

so wait lol has she just been narrating all of this out loud to Deku this entire time

okay but can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that they’re having this deep conversation about the dark secrets of hero society right in the middle of their intense mid-air sniper free-for-all lol

holy shit you guys, Nagant’s the one that should have made the tell-all video. I mean, no offense to you, Dabi, I’m sure you worked very hard on your video and did a ton of crunches every day so that you would look good with your shirt off while you told the world all about how your dad was a jerk. but seriously...

this is already like 100x more convincing than what he put out. also, gasp, is it another flashback

yes it is oh my gosh

so the HPSC Chairladyperson whom ReDestro killed used to be this guy’s direct subordinate, huh? I wonder if she kept the whole assassin program going after she took over. can’t say I was feeling any particular kind of grieving way about her death before, but certainly not now lol

but unfortunately Nagant has finally lost me at the same place where all of the villains inevitably do, which is to say when they somehow make the dubious mental leap from “society sucks and is bad” to “let’s just be openly fucking evil lol, worth a shot.” because when heroes murder innocent people and cover it up, that’s obviously bad (and I mean, it absolutely fucking is lol, don’t get me wrong); but when villains murder innocent people straight up out in the open without giving a fuck, they’re righteous revolutionaries? just -- is there really no non-murdery middle ground here?? I guess that’s what Deku and co. are for, hopefully

anyways oh shit Deku seems to have spotted something?? and he’s doing something weird with Blackwhip what

oh, he spotted her, I guess

lmaooooo

new favorite Deku panel right here. a masterpiece

oh my god you guys our little boy is starting to grow up before our eyes

you love to see it. and you can tell with those elipses that he’s gearing up to say something really cool and determined and badass like the shounen protag he is, yes please, Deku ilu so much please do your thing

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

IS THAT A TEENY TINY LIL EYE SPARKLE THERE OMG. still not anywhere close to his usual standard, but that’s some clear resolve there in his eyes there at long last! it always shines the most clearly when he’s being true to himself and his ideals, so I love that it finally shows up again here, when he’s reaffirming his resolve to help others no matter what

uh oh so what’s Lady going to do now

is it time for a trump card?? kinda sounding like it’s time for a trump card

???

I lied btw, this is my new favorite Deku panel. but anyways what is she up to now lol

ohhhhhh, lol

why does she seem shocked, lol. here I thought this was part of her plan, but apparently she forgot all about ol’ “Look Ma, No Hands” back up there

and so I guess that’s it for this week! so we’ve learned basically everything now about Lady and her quirk and her history with the HPSC and why she agreed to work for AFO. pretty much the only question that still remains is why the hell she decided to drag this asshole along for the ride! because I still cannot figure that out dsklkjlkf

(ETA: actually now I’m kind of wondering if they maybe have some past connection we don’t know about yet. when exactly was Nagant sent to Tartarus? is it possible she was ordered to track down and kill Overhaul at some point before that, but never got around to it? or something else along those lines? idk but now I’m curious.)

anyways Deku, I know that your empathy has no bounds and that you’re on a “saving villains” kick right now, and good on you... but also, if you decide to just like, skip all of that shit just this once, absolutely no one will hold it against you, I’m just saying. just, all I’m asking here is maybe let’s think twice before we start trying to reform guys who imprison and torture little girls for profit. I think maybe that’s a good place to draw the line. next week is going to be a very interesting chapter lol

[softinkshadows]

battlefield encounters  (gojo, nanami, geto, sukuna) (part 1)

Some short vignettes of jjk men x female reader imagined scenarios, where reader meets them for the first time in the middle of a fight (all taking place within the same world and timeline of the manga/anime, although as parallel storylines). 

Gojo Satoru 

The gun cocks. You aim it at the man standing in front of you. He pleads pathetically with a look of despair, his face coated in cold sweat as he mumbles words begging for forgiveness, promising riches. It’s always the same. You scoff, then pull the trigger - once, twice, three times. The sound of the shots echo throughout the empty abandoned warehouse. You watch as the man slumps to the ground in a lifeless heap, joining the other scattered bodies around him. 

“Well, that’s the last of them,” you mutter to yourself, sheathing the gun back in your belt. The Inozuka syndicate had been overstepping their boundaries in the city recently, creating unnecessary pressure on the Matsuba faction, which long held control over the city’s largest district. And of all people, they had chosen to attack you in this dank warehouse as a bargaining chip for more territory, thinking you were an easy target because you were a woman. When in fact you remain one of the strongest upper-management leaders of the Matsuba syndicate. You gaze down coldly on the pile of bodies at your feet, some distorted, bloodied, eyes half-open in death, and the familiar hollow feeling creeps into your chest before you can suppress it. Killing, again and again and again. Is this my life now? Resigned, you turn on your heels, preparing to leave.

A sudden cold wave hits you from behind without warning, a wave so suffocating your mind spins, and your chest tightens as if dozens of clammy hands are gripping your throat. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of your face. As you spin around, your hand instinctively reaches for your gun at your waist, but what you see makes you halt in terror.

Four protruding eyes sit atop its grotesque head, its large set of teeth pitch black and spread wide in an unnerving smile. An overpowering aura emanates from its body, all four limbs streaked with giddying patterns of black and white, and your eyes glance downwards at its incredibly sharp claws, feeling a lump gather in your throat. There’s no mistaking it. You had always been able to see curses ever since you were young, those small annoying fly heads and larger clumsy monstrosities, but this... this is different. It’s as if you're staring at death in the face.

The cool handle of your gun against your fingertips propels you back to reality. Don’t think! You raise your weapon only to feel yourself flying across the open room, slamming into discarded storage boxes with a loud crash. Limbs faltering, you struggle to get up from underneath the debris. A terrifying gleeful screech resounds as the curse leaps towards you, and you move the best your instincts allow, diving out of the way and firing a few useless shots.

You’re only aware after the fact of a sudden throbbing pain in your left arm, and a growing wetness that trails down your skin to your wrist. You examine it briefly, gritting your teeth in pain. Your exposed flesh is ripped up like paper, with large stinging claw marks running across your arm. There’s a stabbing feeling in your ribs and one of your legs isn’t moving like you would wish it to. 

“Shit,” you mutter as you drag yourself towards the concrete wall, propping yourself up against it. Unharmed, the curse licks your blood from its claws, mocking your helpless state. You feel the fabric of your pants getting gradually soaked in warm pooling liquid, along with the onset of dizziness from the blood loss. Shit. After all these years of fighting, surviving, killing... I guess this is how I’m going to go out, huh. In a dingy-ass warehouse. Chewed to scraps by a damn curse. 

“Fucking hell,” you chuckle flatly, lifting your gun again in a last burst of dignity and taking aim. Then it lunges.

You prepare yourself to meet your end, awaiting the heavy, pulpy crush of your skull against the wall, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, the warehouse warps before you. 

“Wha-” your voice falls away as you’re moved away from the line of attack in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, you’re staring at the ground from above, your limbs dangling beneath you. You hear the loud crack of crumbling cement from the curse’s impact where you stood a mere second ago. A firm hand holds you by the waist. A different energy, deeper, much stronger this time, radiates fiercely from beside you like the blooming of plum blossoms in snow.

“Who in the hell ar-” you cough out, both wary and mesmerized, struggling to look up over your shoulder.

“Now, now, don’t get too excited,” a voice teases, “I promise to pay proper attention to you in just a while.” A man with a tacky-looking blindfold looks down at you with a smug, annoying grin. Although somehow, even with the dark cloth securely over his eyes, his distant gaze is strangely piercing. The next thing you notice is his striking white hair, a shocking colour accentuated by his dark clothes, giving him an air of otherworldly elegance. But hell, something about his tone grates at you - is this guy actually being cocky at a time like this?

Before you can protest, he lifts his hand towards the approaching curse. You feel yourself gape in awe as the space before him curls wildly, pulling in and amassing a good deal of energy. Within seconds the curse is shredded horribly, twisting and screaming as it burns out with a bright blue flame. You heart thuds and you feel your hair stand on end. This curse could have snapped you in half at any moment. Yet this man takes it out with a single wave of his finger.

"You can see it, right?" His voice jolts you from your stupor. He is standing on the ground now, still carrying you rather expertly in a way that avoids pressing down on your injuries. He looks at you intently with a curious expression. You don’t realize he has taken interest in the surprising lack of cursed energy dwelling in your body. It reminds him of someone he met a few years ago, someone who nearly killed him...

"Yeah, so what? It's not like I haven’t seen them before. And you can put me down now,” you’re growing cautious of this stranger, but retort rather weakly as the effect of your wounds start to set in.

"Hmm, interesting~" He casually ignores your last statement, strolling over to pick up what appears to be a blackened, wrinkled finger on the floor, stringing you along like you weigh absolutely nothing. You hear him mutter to himself something about finding a fifth finger, and handing it over to some shitty higher-ups. 

Tutting in annoyance, you raise your voice, moving to pry his strong fingers from around you. "Hey, blindfold, I don't know who you are but you can let me go now, I’m good-" You speak too soon as the searing pain in your arm returns, making you wince. “Sure you are,” he chortles doubtfully, stifling a laugh at your awkward, impossible efforts. Oh, you’d love to hit him right now. But his hands say something else, pulling your struggling arms apart, gentle and serious, as if determined to not let you hurt yourself further. Gojo ponders thoughtfully for a moment. Looks like I’ve found something interesting. And a troublesome one, too. He lapses into a smug grin again. “Let’s get you taken care of, shall we?” Speaking in a lighthearted singsong voice, as if to a child, he smirks a little, before tapping two fingers against your forehead. Immediately, your vision darkens, and the last thing you are vaguely aware of is a faint scent of fresh pear, and a strong arm hooking under your knees, lifting you to lean against someone’s chest as a warm feeling of enveloping safety lulls you to sleep.  ------ My writing got a little long for Gojo’s so i’m going to split the post into several parts over the next few days! I’m trying to keep it such that Reader has different identities in these different storylines, to perhaps propel your own imagination to take the story further from there. Hope you liked this one~ :)  --- Taglist (っ˘ω˘ς ) : @encrytpta @wilddreamer98

[auroracalisto]

all the lost things

summary: the reader has always been close with Ms. Mead.  growing up, she went to her neighbor for comfort, hiding from her abusive parents.  but one day, she just disappears.  when she comes back, michael is there, on a path to purify the world.

pairing: michael x reader

word count: 3.9k words

warnings: talks of the antichrist, religious undertones, abusive parents, physical abuse, reader ends up in hospital, reader is stabbed but nothing is said other than she was stabbed, cussing, blood, death, major character death (mead), follows the plotline in the show but not exactly

a/n: no notes, head empty.  also word count could be 4k but it was like 90 words off and yeah

Ms. Mead was always there for [Your name].  No matter what had happened, no matter how her parents had treated her, Ms. Mead was there.  Her parents would hurt her, tease her, ridicule her for her relationship with the renowned Satanist.  They hated the fact that their little “angel” was friends with such a nasty type of woman—and even though they were hypocritical to the highest extent, they stood by that.  She helped to patch her up on particularly bad days.  Ms. Mead had offered time and time again for [Your name] to take a bed in her home, but [Your name] never accepted the offer.  She already helped so much—she never wanted to burden her even more. Not to mention the fact that Ms. Mead hardly knew of everything that occurred.  [Your name] quite often kept most of what happened to herself.  

Ms. Mead was more of a parent to her more than her shitty birth parents.  And when [Your name] went missing, she was understandably concerned.  However, Michael had shown up.  There wasn’t much she could do to find you, especially since you were never listed as missing with the local law enforcement, and the two of them (Ms. Mead and Michael) had yet to figure out just how far Michael’s powers would go, and how soon it would take for him to grow into them.

Ms. Mead waited anxiously for you to return, from wherever you had run off to. It was nearly two weeks after Michael had gotten there.  Two weeks of Ms. Mead leading Michael around and showing him how to live—showing him what life was all about with the loving care of a Satanist mother.  

On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, Michael sat at the dining room table, eating a ham and cheese sandwich.  Ms. Mead was washing dishes, looking over at the boy as a knock sounded at the door.  

“Do you mind getting that?  I’ll be right there, I just have a few more to do.”

Michael gave a small nod, and he sat his sandwich down before he stood and walked over to the front door.  He opened it without wasting a second, seeing a battered woman standing there.  He furrowed his eyebrows at the woman, looking at her arm slung in a cast and her bruised eye and split lip.  She uncomfortably shifted on her leg—while she didn’t have anything on it, it was obvious that she had hurt it.  If she were to bend down, surely her abdomen would kill her.

“Is… is Miriam here?” she asked.

“Who are you?”

The black-haired woman showed up behind Michael.  Her eyes went wide. “[Your name]?”  She quickly moved to hug her.  [Your name] flinched but she hugged back, carefully using her other arm to pat her back.

Michael could see the healing bruises that littered her arms.  “Where the hell have you been, girl?” she asked, looking at her in disbelief.  “What happened to you?”

She took her free hand and turned to look at Michael.  “Shut and lock the door behind us.  Can you get her a change of clothes?  Just sweatpants and a shirt. Hurry.”

Michael blinked slowly but did as he was told.  

Ms. Mead lead [Your name] into the dining room, sitting her down.  She brushed some of the hair out of her face back as she sat across from her.  

“I looked for you, but I couldn’t find anything.  Where were you?  Did you lose your phone?  What happened to the one I gave you for emergencies?”

[Your name]’s beautiful eyes couldn’t meet hers.  She shifted in her seat, taking in a sharp breath when her stomach slightly rubbed against the table she was seated at.  The last time Miriam had interrogated her like this was when she had accidentally broken her sofa and not said anything—and that was nearly seven years ago.

“Uh,” she closed her eyes.  

“I got them,” Michael interrupted.  Of course, he didn’t know he had.  He brought the clothes over and sat them beside Ms. Mead before he sat back down at his sandwich.  He attempted to ignore them but found himself listening to their conversation anyway.

“He found it.”

Miriam’s eyes widened.  “What?”

[Your name] just shrugged, wincing as she did that.  “Yeah.  He found my emergency phone.  And then, he found my go back.  I… I had it packed.  I was ready to leave, Miriam,” she said, leaning back against her seat.  “I was ready to leave and come here,” [Your name] weakly smiled.  “Guess that didn’t happen.”

“Wait, wait, what does all this have—” Miriam stopped herself.  “What did your father do to you?” she softly asked, her warm hand going over the top of [Your name]’s.  

“He beat me until I was unconscious, and then I guess he and my mom dropped me off at the hospital.  I didn’t have anything on me.  My ID is gone, I don’t have my phone.  Everything was stripped off of me save for my clothes. They said I had gone into a coma, but like… they also had to do an emergency surgery because I had been stabbed.”

“He stabbed you?” Miriam felt her face burn with rage.  She couldn’t believe this.  She knew [Your name]’s parents were shit, but she never believed they would do anything like that.

She gave a small nod.  “They’re gonna have to bill me somehow.  I… I might have given them a fake name when I came to.  Let’s see if they can.  That’s also… probably why you couldn’t find me,” she weakly smiled.  

“What did you use?”

“Lucy Moore.”

Miriam rolled her eyes.  “Of course, you did.  I wondered why that sounded so familiar.  I saw it in the newspaper but didn’t think much about it.  Damn. You’ve used that since you were a child,” she huffed softly.  “You’ve been there for nearly two weeks, [Your name].  Are you okay?”

[Your name] shrugged.  “I’m as good as I can be, Miriam.  There’s not much to be said.”

Michael hadn’t touched his food.  He stared at the [color] haired woman for the longest time before he spoke up.

“Why are you here?” he asked.  “You’re not home?”

Miriam looked over at the boy with a frown.  “Michael.”

“No, he’s got a point,” [Your name] sighed.  “I can’t go back.  Not because of this.  But… Miriam, they’re gone.  They’ve completely moved out.  Left and everything.  The house is on the market.  Saw the sign when I was walking by.”

“You walked all the way here?” Michael asked, his eyebrows furrowed.  “From the hospital?”

“Took me about an hour, but yeah,” [Your name] said.  

The resilience she had made Michael’s heart skip a beat.  But perhaps that was also from the immense anger building up in the pit of his stomach for two people that he had never met.  Michael clenched his fists under the table, looking towards his half-eaten sandwich with a type of malice that would burn a human.

His sandwich lit on fire—the bread and meat and cheese immediately being consumed by reds, oranges, and yellows.  

[Your name]’s eyes widened, and she quickly turned to face him, despite the burning pain she felt from doing so.  

Miriam watched with wide eyes, a smile growing on her lips.  When the fire had completely gone out, as it was only contained to his food, she grinned at him. “This is Michael, my dear,” Miriam said.  “He’s been staying with me since you disappeared.”

“How—how did he—”

“—he’s the Antichrist, dear.”

Well, there was no hiding that.  Michael quickly looked up at Miriam, surprised that she told [Your name] so quickly.  

[Your name] furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, before she gave a small nod. “Right, so, you—you made that fire all on your own?” she asked.

When Michael nodded, [Your name] turned to face Ms. Mead.  

“Can I take a shower?” she asked.

Michael blinked a couple of times.  The woman wasn’t afraid of him—that struck him as odd.  She had just been dropped with the news that would bring the end of times—and yet, she just asked his adoptive mom if she could take a shower.

Who was she?

Miriam nodded.  “We’ve got to cover up your cast.  Can’t risk it getting wet,” she said, going to find some plastic wrap in the kitchen.

Michael stared the injured woman down for a moment.  “You’re not afraid?”

She looked over at him with a frown.  “Why would I be?  After everything I’ve been through,” she said, sucking in a breath as she slowly got to her feet. “Seeing my parents burn would be the best thing since I found Ms. Mead. Seems like she just keeps collecting lost things, huh?”

[Your name] smiled towards him, and he returned it, albeit shyly.  

Despite the wounds on her face, Michael thought she was beautiful.  To [Your name], the man was just beautiful.

She knew all the stories about the Antichrist.  Her parents used to spew Revelations at dinner like it was just normal gossip.

He would be beautiful, have immense powers (even though she was unaware he was still trying to get his powers under control, as his Antichrist nature had just been awoken not too long ago), and in everything that came from what her parents said, she remembered one and thought about it more often than the others: he would be perfect.  

Michael was perfect.

Miriam came back with a yellow box of plastic wrap.  She began to open it up.  

“Will you be okay showering by yourself?  Can you take your clothes off by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, waving the woman off.  Miriam just smiled and began to wrap her cast.

“While you do that, I’m going to run to the store and buy some actual clothes for you.  You have some here, but not a lot.  Don’t worry,” she said, finishing up the multiple layers of plastic wrap.  “I still remember your size.  And your favorite scent is…?”

When she told her, Miriam smiled.  

“Good.  I’ll get some things with that as well.  Oh, my [Your name], it’s so good to see your face again,” the woman said.  “I’ll be back.  Michael, stay home.  I’ll just be a few minutes.”

When Miriam left, [Your name] went to shower.  Michael didn’t know what to do, so he went to his bedroom, reading a book that Miriam had stocked on his bookshelf.  Of course, he didn’t realize it was the Satanist Bible until after he started reading it.  However, he was completely distracted by it and was only brought out of his intense reading session when he heard loud cursing coming from the bathroom.  

Michael frowned a bit and marked his page with a piece of scrap paper from his desk.  He quickly got up and went to the bathroom, knocking on the door.  

“Are you okay?” he asked.  

“Uh,” [Your name] began, trying her best not to sound like she was in pain.  “I—yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”  Her voice shook as she tried to get up.  She had fallen in the shower.  The stitches in her side hurt like a bitch, and the pain she had in her leg would stay for a while—her doctor had told her it was a pretty bad sprain, but that it would heal eventually.  And with only one hand available to get herself up, she was stuck at the bottom of the tub.  

“You don’t sound fine…”

[Your name] clenched her jaw and took in a deep breath.  “Could you—I…  I need help.  I fell,” she said.  

Michael immediately went to open the door.  

“Wait!”

Michael stopped in his tracks.

“You can’t look at me.  Keep your eyes closed.  Please.”

[Your name] wasn’t scared at the fact that he would see her naked—she was more scared of the fact that he would see how damaged her body was.  She should have been more scared of her naked body—in all reality, she had just met him.  

Michael opened the door, making sure that she saw his eyes were closed.  He walked into the bathroom and quite literally ran into the toilet.  

“I—take like two steps to the left—”

Michael did as he was told.  

“Wait, no, I’m sorry, it’s your right—” she stopped herself and squeezed her eyes shut.  “Just… Just open your eyes.  It’ll be easier.”

“Are you sure?” Michael asked.  His voice was soft, like buttercream on a birthday cake.  

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Michael opened his blue eyes.  He locked eyes with [Your name] and his expression softened.  It was the look at [Your name] hated more than anything.

The look of pity when people realized why she was always hurt.  He had the same expression.  Michael walked over to her and turned the steaming water off.  He carefully hooked his arms underneath hers and got her to her feet.

“Did you already shower?” he asked.  

She shook her head.  “No.”

“Alright,” he looked down at her.  He avoided looking at her body.  He made sure to keep his eyes on hers.  “I’ll—I’ll be right in the other room if you need me, okay?”

When [Your name] nodded, Michael turned the water back on for her and left the bathroom.  It didn’t happen again, but Michael sat on the edge of his bed, listening for anything.

He was stiff, and he was barely breathing as he listened for the woman to hurt herself again.  When the water shut off, this time by [Your name]’s hand and not his own, he finally took in a much-deserved breath.  He closed his eyes, laying back on his bed.  He was so worried for the woman that he hadn’t even heard the front door shut.  When he heard Ms. Mead’s voice, he shot up from his bed and ran downstairs to help her.

He took each of the bags from the older woman.  

“Take these to the guest room, okay?  The one with the white bed.”

Michael nodded and rushed off, with five bags of things she would need on one arm and six on the other.

[Your name] came out of the bathroom with the clothes on that Michael had grabbed earlier, her free hand drying her hair the best she could.  

Michael sat everything on the bed and came back out of the room, seeing her.

His eyes widened.  “I can do that for you—”

“I… I got it,” [Your name] mumbled, her cheeks burning at the thought that he would look at her like he did before.  She looked over at him, and she nearly stopped drying her hair.  She couldn’t describe his expression—but it wasn’t like it was before.  

Michael crossed his arms over his chest.  “Your room.  It’s this one,” he pointed to the door behind him.  

“Thank you,” she said, walking towards it.  

Michael grabbed her by her elbow, looking right at her.  “Let me do your hair.”

Her eyes widened.  “What—”

“—let me do your hair.  I want to help you.”

Throughout all of her thoughts, one stuck out the most: why was the Antichrist being so kind to her?

Michael didn’t wait for her to answer, leading her back into the bedroom.  He began to search through the plastic bags, eventually finding the items Ms. Mead bought for her hair.  He forced [Your name] to sit down on the edge of the bed and Michael got behind her.  He finished towel drying her hair and then proceeded to use what Ms. Mead had bought, with the instructions that [Your name] was given him.  He had never even tried to fix anyone else’s hair before—he had only taken care of his own.  It gave him a sense of pride to know that [Your name] hadn’t denied his help, this time.

[]

Days turned into weeks.  Weeks turned into months.  

Eventually, Michael and [Your name] were quite close—much to Miriam’s excitement.

Although she never said anything, she quite liked the idea of them being so close.  It made her confident heart soar with happiness at the thought that the two people she cared for most in the world were just as close to each other as they were to her.  

Despite their closeness, however, Michael disappeared after being taken to jail.

He hadn’t been able to contact [Your name] until about a week after being gone.

“Hello?” [Your name] spoke into the telephone, confused.  She didn’t know the number that had called.  

“[Your name],” Michael said.  He closed his eyes, melting at the sound of her voice.  

“Michael?” [Your name] quickly sat up, alert.  “What the hell, Michael?  Where are you?  Are you okay? Wh—”

“—I’m alright,” he chuckled softly.  “Things have kind of… happened.  I’m at a school for Warlocks.  I’m ‘honing’ my magic.  That’s what they said, anyway,” he spoke, leaning against the wall behind him as he talked on the phone.  “[Your name], they want me to be the next Supreme.”

“I… would be super excited for you, if I would know what the fuck that is,” she scoffed.  “Michael, seriously.  What’s going on?”

Michael chuckled at her comment.  “I’m safe.  I promise you.  But this is how I do my job.  As the… well, you know.”  

“Yeah, yeah.  But what—”

“—listen, I have to go.  I have to get back to class.  But I’ll call you.  Please know that I’m safe.  It was so good to hear your voice, [Your name].  Make sure Ms. Mead knows that I’ll get in contact with both of you soon.”

Michael hung up the phone.

What [Your name] didn’t know was that Michael had already been in contact with Ms. Mead.  And the two were conspiring against the Warlocks to make it easier for Michael to reach the title of Supreme, and therefore, bring around the end of the world.

[]

Another week passed without a word from Michael.

[Your name] was more nervous than words could put together.  Although the two were just close friends, she quite missed his absence.  She was starting to believe she wanted to be much more than friends, but she would never say anything about it.  

[Your name] sat at the dining room table, wondering where the hell Ms. Mead was.

She had been gone since early morning.

She heard the front door shut and had come downstairs to see what was going on—Ms. Mead was nowhere in sight, and she hadn’t left any sort of note.  

It was nearing noon when the house phone began to ring.  

[Your name] sighed, figuring it was Miriam.  She got up and walked over to the phone, answering it.  

“Hello?”

“[Your name],” Michael’s voice came through the speaker.  “They’ve killed her.”

[Your name] paused for a moment.  She sucked in a breath through her teeth, sitting back down at the dining room table.  “What are you talking about?”

“The witches.  They killed her.  They killed Ms. Mead.”

Only now did [Your name] hear Michael’s sobs.  He must have moved the phone away from his head moments before, preventing her from hearing it.  

A feeling of dread pooled into her stomach.  The news seemed fake—unreal, to her in the sense that it couldn’t have happened.  It didn’t happen.  Miriam was fine.  She had to be.

Her breathing was uneasy as she quickly stood back up.  “Where are you?”

Michael told her his exact location—it wasn’t too hard to find, and she would be able to get there pretty quickly.  

[Your name] hung up the phone and grabbed some cash and car keys, before she ran outside.  She ran to the car that still sat in the driveway.  She should have known.  She should have checked.  Ms. Mead wouldn’t have just left for a walk.  She would have said something.  

[Your name] entered the location onto the GPS in the car.  She took off driving, tears blurring her vision, but she never once stopped.  When there wasn’t a cop or a car nearby, she ran through the red lights.  She sped until she got to the location.  

She quickly slammed on the breaks, putting the car in park.  She turned it off and quickly got out of the car, nearly tripping over herself as she planted her feet on the ground.

Michael quickly looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide when he saw her.

He forced himself off of the ground, rushing in her direction.  [Your name] met him halfway, her arms tightly wrapping around his body.  She let out a soft sob and Michael hugged her back, burying his face in her hair.          

“[Your name],” he said, tears forming in his own eyes.  

She shook her head, her fingers digging into the fabric of his black suit.

Michael’s fingers gently tangled in her hair as he pulled back to look down at her.  Red rimmed the edge of his eyes.

He had been crying, for some time now.  [Your name] looked up at him, trying to keep herself calm.  

“Michael,” she bit her lip, holding back a sob as she watched him.  “What happened… why did this happen?”

Michael shook his head.  He would have spoken, had it not been for the blonde witch who walked up to the two, a black umbrella hovering over her head.  

Cordelia’s eyes widened when she realized that Michael was not alone.  

Michael quickly pushed [Your name] behind him, glaring in Cordelia’s direction.

He didn’t give her a chance to speak, his hand reaching back and gripping onto [Your name]’s.  “I’ll kill you,” Michael seethed, his body shaking slightly out of rage.  “I’ll kill you and all your damn witches.  You stupid—”

[Your name] squeezed his hand.  He stopped talking, clenching his jaw.  

Cordelia looked from Michael to [Your name] before she gave a curt nod and left them standing there.  

Michael quickly turned to face [Your name].  “Never again.  I will never let you leave my sight,” he said.  “Ever.  I… You’re all I have,” he frowned, cupping her cheeks as he spoke.

[Your name] reached up, placing her hands over the top of his.  “You’re all I have, too, Michael,” she said, closing her eyes.  “I…  I’m so sorry.  I… I should have realized something was wrong earlier—”

“—you wouldn’t have known what they were planning to do.  I didn’t know, either,” he said, frowning deeply.  “But they will pay for this.  They all will.  Every last one of those damned witches.  You have my word.”

“I know I do,” [Your name] said, looking up at the man.  “Michael, can we—can we go home?” she asked, looking past him at the charred remains of the only good woman in her life.  “I… I think we should pack our things.  Leave.  It’s not safe here…”

“You’re right,” he frowned.  “But [Your name], it’s just going to get worse.  You… you have to promise me you’ll be by my side.  Always.”

“Always,” she nodded.  

“Good,” Michael said, pulling her into another hug.  He rested his head on her chin.  He would protect her until the end of time.  The thought of letting her go now made his insides boil.  She would never leave his side—never.  The only way she’d leave him is through death, and even then, he would bring her back. No matter what.  

[shozto]

⏤ wounds.

ask: Hi if requests are still open could I please request a Dabi(Touya) x civilian reader? Where she finds him badly injured and unconscious then she drags him back to her apartment to treat his wounds and when Dabi regains consciousness he finds her sleeping next to him in her bed. 

pairing: dabi / f!reader

wordcount: 3.4k

genre: angst, fluff, strangers to something more(?)

warning: brief descriptions of injuries and pain, swearing, a makeout scene, suggestive but literally nothing happens, dabi is kind of ooc? but not really

+ summary: dabi is extremely hurt, and you are the only one there to help him. 

note! this is the first thing i’ve written on here since my hiatus almost 2 years ago! i hope you like it

Music thumped through the brick wall and into the narrow alleyway. This club was pretentious to say the least, but it provided a loud, pounding wall of safety from the dangerous streets. The darkness of the city after dark only brought the stench of danger and death, something Dabi didn’t prefer, but knew well. He still went out anyway.

Dabi is always careful when he goes out. Sure, he gets hurt sometimes, but never anything too serious or life threatening. It’s a habit of his, one he is extremely determined on keeping. But, no matter how careful he is, something is bound to slip through at one point or another.

Blood seeped through the gash on his side. It leaked past his white shirt, staining it a deep red and dripping onto the ground as he leaned against the wall of the alley. His scarred hand pressed against the wound and he groaned, falling to the ground letting out a sputtered cough. 

So much for being careful. 

“Those bastards,” he grunted. His legs pushed against the ground before he hunched over and heaved for breath. He felt his mouth fill with saliva as he hyperventilated and squeezed his eyes shut. 

They stabbed him with a knife. He killed them, of course. Burning them to a crisp in one glance. But that didn’t help the gaping wound in his side.

This isn’t an often occurrence for Dabi; he hardly ever got hurt, and when he did, it was always on his own accord. He could deal with the pain from burns, at least those didn’t make him feel like he was dying from the inside out. Being stabbed was a different kind of pain, though. Dabi felt like he was really about to die. 

But then, his saving grace.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” A voice came from his left. Your voice was panicked and shaky, but oh so gentle. 

You came into view and his vision blurred. Your hand was warm against his cheek and cool against the wound on his side, a fresh relief. You pulled the purse off your shoulder and sifted through the items before pulling out a cellphone and dialing something on the keypad.

Dabi’s hand grabbed your wrist and he shook his head. 

“What?” you looked at him. “I’m going to call an ambulance, you need to go to the hospital.”

He shook his head again and grunted, trying to push himself up into a sitting position. “No hospitals. No police.”

His voice was rough and deep, it took you a moment to process what exactly he was saying. When you did, you felt your heart fall in your chest. 

“Okay, okay... no hospitals or police...” you sucked in a breath. “I can take you to my apartment, it’s just up there.” you pointed to a window above them on the other side of the alley. 

Dabi nodded and felt his vision blurring once more. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay conscious much longer. 

“Come on, stay with me please,” you spoke softly, trying to pull him up on his feet. “I need you to walk, I’ll help you just please try and stand up.”

Your arms pulled him up to his feet and he stumbled, falling on top of your smaller frame. You grunted at the weight and tried to drag him to your apartment building.

One step, two steps. A few more through the door when your entered the digits on the keypad. Finally into the apartment building. 

Dabi collapsed. 

Dabi woke up with an ache in his side. He let out a groan and shifted his body, turning to his stomach and running his hand through his hair. His eyes fluttered open and, much to his surprise, sleeping beside him was a girl.

You looked familiar, but he didn’t know why. Did he sleep with you? No, he shook his head. You were fully clothed and looked far too peaceful for having spent the night in bed with him. 

Then, another sharp pain in his abdomen. He sucked in a breath and let his hand drift to the ache. He was shirtless, a white bandage wrapped around his waist. Oh, right. He got stabbed. So your were the one who helped him then.

your sudden movement caught his attention. You stretched your arms out and your eyes opened slowly.

“Good morning.” you smiled, looking into his cerulean eyes. Intimidating yet warm, and very, very confused. “Did you sleep well?” your voice was gentle, just like before. But this time it was calmer, more comfortable. 

Dabi lifted his arm and tucked it under his head. “Care to explain why ‘m sleepin’ in your bed, angel?”

Deflected your question with his own, of course. That was what he was best at. 

You shifted and turned your gaze away from his own. It felt like they were burning holes in your eyes; scary and understandably so. He must’ve been a villain. You weren’t sure if you could hold eye contact with him for more than three seconds. “You were hurt badly. Like, really bad, and you didn’t want me to take you to the hospital so I tried my best to patch you up here. You were also running a high fever, probably from the loss of blood. I let you sleep in my bed, and I was going to sleep on the couch, but you kept waking up from these... nightmares? I felt bad leaving you so... I just came to sleep here in case you needed anything.”

Your hand found the bandage on his waist and you brushed your fingers against the white fabric. Thank god the blood wasn’t leaking through anymore. “What’s your name, anyway? And how did you get hurt so badly? Don’t tell me it’s the reason why you didn’t want me taking you to the hospital or calling the police...”

He felt you finch when he grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m Dabi, angel face. You have a name? Or do you prefer me calling you ‘angel’?”

You laughed a little out of sheer awkwardness. “My name is y/n.”

Dabi hummed and pulled you closer to his body until your chests were touching. You were cold. “You okay, y/n? You seem a little shaken up.”

You pushed him away and got out of the bed. “What are you trying to do?”

He sat up and leaned against the headboard, a slight smirk on his lips. “Just trying to repay you for helpin’ me out last night. Want me to make you feel good? Tell me what you want, princess. I’ll give it to you.”

“We literally just met, Dabi. I only learned your name two minutes ago. Stop being a creep and have some human decency, for god’s sake. I just saved your life.”

You slipped out of the bedroom door and walked toward the kitchen. Dabi frowned and got out of the bed, following behind you. 

Dabi was not a creep. Well, not in the sense that you were getting at; he was a villain. He assumed it fit his image and it was easy to assume such things, but it wasn’t fair of you to say that. But then again, he did just try and make a move on you... maybe it was warranted. 

Who could blame him, though? You were alluring in your own right. Pretty skin, cute smile, bright eyes. You helped him when he thought he was going to die. Now that was something he didn’t quite process. Who was he kidding? That was horrifying; but then again, nothing was ever as horrifying as what happened when he was a child. Either way, he really was grateful for your help. He just didn’t know how to show it. 

You knew he was following you, but you didn’t speak. You would make him some breakfast, then kick him out. So much for the butterflies fluttering in your stomach whenever he spoke. 

“Sorry about that,” Dabi said after a few minutes of silence between the two of you. The sizzling of rice being coated in oil and vegetables was loud. It smelled way too good to be considered fried rice. 

You hummed in response and tapped your fingers against the handle of the spatula in your hand. “It’s okay.”

Well that wasn’t much of a surprise, but it still took him aback. You were too kind for your own good.

“Thank you, though. For real.”

“It’s the least I can do. Even though you’re a villain, and if the police find out I helped you, I’ll probably get arrested and then lose my scholarship and fail at my dream of becoming a doctor. But it’s okay.”

Now that, that was a surprise. 

“You wanna be a doctor?” not the doctor part. (he was honestly not surprised about that, it only made sense. you actually knew what you were doing and how to help him). he was surprised that you were this open to him. 

“Yeah,” you paused as you pulled out bowls to put the rice in. “It’s technically my parents’ dream for me. But I’ve realized I enjoy it a lot more than I thought I would. I like helping people, it makes me happy.” You handed him his bowl and sat beside him. “I just realized that’s probably the last thing you wanna hear. Don’t villains find the idea of helping people disgusting?”

Dabi laughed. 

It was a warm, gravely laugh, probably due to the fact he just woke up. It made your heart feel like it was being coated in thick honey and you felt heat rise to your face. You liked his laugh. 

“I don’t know about other villains, but I really could not care less. But no, the last thing I would want to hear is you being a hero. That would be terrifying.”

You felt a smile creep up your lips and a tight feeling grew in your chest. “Yeah, never. I have too weak a quirk to do that. And putting my life on the line? No thanks. I have way too much to lose.”

“Too much to lose, huh?” he said. He ate some of the rice. “What’s your quirk? Some healing shit?”

You shook your head. “No, but that would be ideal. I have a simple nature quirk. Like I can grow flowers and make the leaves change color.”

“Sweet quirk for a sweet girl.”

You flushed. “What’s yours?”

Dabi held out a single finger and in a split second, a small blue flame emitted from the tip. “Just fire. I’d show you more but I might burn your apartment down and you’d murder me. Plus I’d feel a little bad.”

“Blue fire?”

“Yeah.”

“What were your parents’ quirks? I’ve never seen anyone have blue fire before.” you asked innocently. Dabi gritted his teeth.

“Fire and ice, i guess. I don’t remember too well, though. Haven’t seen ‘em in a long time.”

You were about to ask another question, but realized it might be a little insensitive. Besides, it was none of your business.

“Sorry,” you murmured. Then, you ate. 

You weren’t quite sure what had happened, but you saw Dabi quite frequently nowadays. 

After you told him you had a night class, you would often see him outside the campus waiting for you so he could walk you home. Other times, he would bring you little things like food or candy. 

You assumed it made him happy; bringing you things or walking you home. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t make you happy as well. He was sort of a dandere type; he let you do most of the talking and sometimes it seemed like he didn’t care, but he proved that he was listening when he brought you the snacks that you told him you liked, or when he gave you a little nightlight after you told him you were afraid of the dark. 

He was sweet; unbelievably so. And over the past few weeks, you realized that you might have a major romantic connection to him. It was almost like you were in a relationship together, but not really.

You had never gone out on a date or anything like that, but you could tell he liked you in a certain way. The way he teased you or called you cute. The way he slept over in your bed often. At first he said it was because he didn’t want to go back to his place since his roommates were annoying. 

It was the way he hugged you when he said goodbye or the lingering gazes when you would cook him dinner. One time you kissed him on the cheek when he was pretending he was asleep. You swore you saw him blush.

Tonight felt different. You hadn’t seen him in a few days; he was away, he said. He told you not to worry, but you did. How could you not? He was like your best friend.

There was a knock on your door. It was loud and hard, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest. You walked quickly to the peephole, and much to your surprise, dabi was standing there. You flung the door open.

“Dabi,” you ran into his arms, hugging around his waist tightly and burying your face into his chest. You let out a shaky breath and you felt tears well up in your eyes. 

“Hey, angel,” he said softly and rested his face on the top of your head, breathing in deeply. “Missed you,” he muttered. He kissed your head gently and hummed. “We should go inside, baby.”

You sniffled and nodded, pulling away from his warm body and interlacing your hand with his own before leading him inside and closing the door behind you. 

“How was it?” you asked. You never asked about his ‘work’. You knew it made him a little upset. Not that he didn’t trust you, he just didn’t like you hearing about that side of himself. He had his own motivations and drives, as did you. You didn’t question them, because you knew they were valid. 

He sighed and sat on your couch, leaning back and running his hands down his face. “It was fine, just tiring,”  he said. 

He closed his eyes and tossed his head back, resting his arm on the back of the couch, his long legs spread wide. Sometimes you forgot how tall he was. You never forgot how attractive he was. 

You fiddled with your fingers as you stood by the coffee table. You were worried about him... how could you not? He was one of the most important people in your life right now. You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if he died.

He let out something between a sigh and a groan. You felt your insides twist. 

Cerulean blue eyes opened slightly and caught yours. “C’mere, angel,” he said, opening his arms. 

You complied and walked over to him, standing in between his parted thighs. He quirked a brow at your shyness and his hands found your hips, pulling you forward onto his lap so your legs were on either side of his thighs. 

Your hands gripped the front of his shirt and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck. He was so warm, obviously a result of his quirk. He smelled like campfires in the rain... a rare experience in itself. It wasn’t until Dabi started rubbing your back that you realized you were crying.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay,” he breathed in your ear. “I’m right here, you don’t need to worry.”

You sniffled and rubbed your face against the rough skin of his neck. You kissed it gently; it made your heart drop whenever you felt his burns. You knew they didn’t hurt. It was just scar tissue. But you felt so sad whenever you thought about them, he had so much pain buried in his heart. These burns were a result of his bad past.

Dabi pulled your body closer to his own so there was no space in between. His large hands held your shoulders and pulled you so you were facing him. His long fingers grazed your cheek and settled for threading through your hair and cupping your jaw. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, his burning blue eyes searching your face. You sniffled again and hesitantly looked up into them. “There she is,” he smiled and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. You let out a small laugh when he nudged her nose with his own. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and looked down again.

“Hey, what did I say? Look at me, y/n,” your name dripped from his tongue and you felt your stomach twist. You looked up at him again.

“I’m just worried about you,” you said with a shaky breath. “And... I know you don’t want my pity but I just feel so sad when I think about what you’ve had to go through. It hurts me, thinking about it. I just want you to be happy, and I know you’re trying to accomplish your goal by working with the league, but I just...” you trailed off and looked down again. His thumb brushed your cheek again. “I just want you to be okay and safe. I know you’re doing what you have to do, but I love you and it hurts so bad seeing you in pain.”

“Angel...” he kissed your forehead. “I’m not in pain.”

You shook your head. “You are. I can tell.”

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me, okay? I didn’t get hurt.”

he was always so gentle when it came to you.

“Not physically. I mean mentally,” you sighed and brought your hands to his cheeks, mirroring his actions from before. He let his hands drop to your hips, rubbing soft circles in the dips. “Your past, the hurt you have in your heart. These scars may just be old burns, but they’re wounds. They are proof of your pain. Even if it was a long time ago.”

You kissed under his left eye. Then his right. You noticed he let out a small sigh when you kissed his jaw, then his ear, his neck, his collar bone. You looked back up at his face; his eyes were closed. You smiled softly and held under his jaw again, pulling your face closer to his. He felt your breath on his lips, but his eyes remained shut. Your thumb hesitantly traced his bottom lip and he hummed. You slowly leaned in and captured his lips in your own. 

The kiss was slow and warm and sensual. It was kind of surprising that you had never kissed him before, but you realized it might have been because of what happened on the morning you met.

His grip tightened on your hips and he let out a small groan when you pulled your lips away from his own. Your hands slowly dragged down to his shoulders.

“Was that okay?” you whispered and he opened his eyes slowly. 

Instead of responding, he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you again, fervently. It was hot and it made you feel like your breath had been knocked out of you, but it was slow and tight and it made your mind go fuzzy. You whimpered when his tongue traced along your gums, your grip on his shirt growing tighter and you realized you were shaking. 

He moved to kiss your jaw below your ear and you swore you couldn’t breathe. He whispered something about breathing before continuing his trail of kisses down your neck, sucking at the skin there. You struggled to breathe in and you found Dabi rubbing your arm with one of his hands. He squeezed you lightly and stopped his kissing, pulling away and holding you close, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

You whimpered when he rubbed your back again, and you were now in the same position as you were before. 

He felt your hot breath on his neck and he kissed your shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asked. You nodded and moved so you were facing him again. You smiled and ran your hands through his dark locks.

“I love you,” you said once more. He smiled and pecked your lips. 

“I love you too.”

[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: Alright, this entire story has officially been written ❤️

Warnings: none that I’m aware of

Word Count: 3067

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Chapter 5: Extra Ordinary

Five years ago, Vanya Hargreeves began writing her autobiography, “Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven”, less than two weeks before her sister’s novel, “One-Sided”, was announced in the papers. Those around who enjoyed her writing were buzzing with excitement, for it was the second book of her trilogy. (Y/N) was thrilled, herself, to be publishing her novel within the next month. Finally sharing her work with the world would have taken a tremendous weight off her shoulders, leaving her with only the weight on her bladder. While working herself nearly to death with her writing, she was with child for the second time, which added to her stress. Thankfully, she had a very supportive husband at the time to assist in anything she requested. It was in those times in which (Y/N) was grateful she decided to make something of herself rather than letting her past as Number Eight define her.

Once “One-Sided” was published, (Y/N) sent two copies out; one to Allison, one to Vanya. She figured her brothers wouldn’t want to read her romantic fantasy as much as her sisters, so she didn’t bother asking. Allison seemed ecstatic for the new addition, but she wasn’t too sure about Vanya, supposing it wouldn’t hurt to send it. If she didn’t want to read it, that was her decision. What she didn’t expect, however, was Vanya’s novel sent to her. After Jada was born, (Y/N) had taken time to read her sister’s autobiography. While Anthony was at work during the day, she’d multitask by reading and taking care of her newborn. She would quietly gasp at certain parts of the book before checking to make sure she hadn’t woken her daughter up. (Y/N) couldn’t believe some of the things her sister dared to put in that book. Some things she wrote were blatantly about (Y/N)’s own insecurities that she had trusted Vanya with knowing. Insecurities about her powers, her capability of being a suitable member of the Umbrella Academy. Vanya had compared it to her own doubts, stating that (Y/N) had no right to complain to her, of all people. Looking back now, (Y/N) could admit that it was a bit selfish to do that to her sister. Regardless, those had been personal and it was unloyal of Vanya to share that with anyone willing to read. Despite this, (Y/N) saw to promote “Extra Ordinary” along with her own work. Someone had to be the bigger person in this situation.

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Nostalgia wasn’t exactly what (Y/N) was overcome with when awaking in her childhood bed. In fact, she’d much rather have opened her eyes to the empty side of her king-sized mattress at home instead. She debated closing her eyes and pretending she had never drifted into consciousness, but sat up when remembering everything Five had told her the day before. If she remembered correctly, there were six remaining days leading up to the end of the world. She had promised Five to assist in preventing the apocalypse, and her drowsiness was not going to hold her back. So, she dragged herself out of bed and began looking for Five. She figured the first place to begin was his bedroom, so she stopped in front of his door and knocked. Hearing rustling on the other side, she asked, “Five, are you decent?”

“Decent enough. You can come in,” He called out, the door opening and (Y/N) stepping inside. He glanced at her over his shoulder as he fixed his white button up. “I take it you had a difficult time sleeping?”

“What makes you say that?” Her hand slid down her face, sarcasm in her tone. She didn’t need a mirror to know she had bags under her eyes. Five chuckled and moved to his vest and jacket, finishing with dressing himself. As he zipped his duffle bag closed, he glanced out the window.

“You tagging along today?”

“I plan to. I… suppose I have nothing to do.”

“Nothing, huh?” Suspicion hid amongst his words as he picked up his bag. “What is it you decided to do with your life, (Y/N)?” The question was simple, genuine, but the weight of it was suffocating. She really couldn’t go back to her normal, beautiful life after all.

“I… found my mother,” She slowly started out, carefully watching as Five curiously glanced up at her under his dark brows. “I became an author… and a mother.”

Suddenly, Five couldn’t breathe. He had anticipated this conversation, prepared himself for everything (Y/N) had accomplished while he was gone. But nothing could have prepared him for the stab in the heart at the mention of her having children. Children with someone who wasn’t him. It was stupidly selfish, he knew, to expect her to wait for him, to do anything else with her life except for the things he longed to do with her. Past the pain, however, he was happy for her. Something in him knew that (Y/N) would one day make a wonderful mother. She was patient, selfless, caring, and oh, how he wished he could’ve been the one. He didn’t even want to ask about the individual she had trusted enough to raise children with her.

His hesitancy to respond worried (Y/N) and suddenly she wanted to apologize. But for what? Her success, her marriage, her children? She had every right to those and she shouldn’t have to apologize. Her concern washed away when Five raised his brows in acknowledgement, opening the window. “Really? A mother? That’s great, Starlight…” God, that nickname… She thought. Why does everything feel so complicated now? Her feet moved her to follow him out of the window and down the fire escape. She thought it was best to not continue the conversation for now.

“Dammit, where’s Dad’s stuff?” The two heard an irritated groan on their way down. (Y/N) craned her neck to see Klaus digging through the dumpster. “Shut up! I’m trying to find whatever… priceless crap was in that priceless box so that Pogo will get off my ass!”

“I’d ask what you’re up to, Klaus, but then it occurred to me…,” Five turned to his brother. “I don’t care.” His useless comment earned an eye roll from (Y/N). Klaus glanced up at the two with a small laugh.

“Hey! You know there are easier ways out of the house, buddy? And bringing little (Y/N) along, too? Whatever could you two be up to?”

“This way of leaving involved the least amount of talking,” Five hopped off the ladder, helping (Y/N) down afterwards. “Or so I thought.”

“Klaus,” The eighth Hargreeves made her way closer to the dumpster. “Is Ben there?”

“Yes, dear, he says hi.” His hand waved in Ben’s supposed direction, (Y/N) softly smiling at her ghost brother. “So, hey, you two need any more company today? I could, uh… clear my schedule.” His eyes shifted to Five as he took a drink from his flask.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full.” The boy falsely smiled.

“Oh, this? No, no. I can do this whenever. I’m just- I just misplaced something. That’s all.” He then fell into the trash as (Y/N) joined her traveling companion at his side. After a few seconds, Klaus reappeared with a bagel. “Oh! Found it! Thank god!” (Y/N) nearly gagged as he began to chew on it, muffling a ‘delicious’ in forced content.

“I’m done funding your drug habit.” Five spit out before walking away. She followed him and waved at Klaus, barely listening to him yelling after them as they climbed into a plumbing van.

“Why are we stealing a van?”

“Shush.”

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Once again, the two teenagers found themselves in front of Meritech Prosthetics. (Y/N) watched as Lance entered the building before sighing. “We’re really gonna sit here and spy on the man?”

“You got a better idea?” Five only kept his stare on him.

“I guess not… What’s the bag for, then?”

Five immediately turned his attention to the duffle bag he brought with them. “Oh, shit,” He muttered before unzipping it. “Hey,” He softly greeted before handing a bottle of alcohol to (Y/N). She blinked once, twice, thrice when he brought out the top half of a bald mannequin and set it between them. “Sorry you were in there for so long, Delores.”

“Wait,” (Y/N) choked. “That’s Delores?! The one you were with for over thirty years?!”

“Well, obviously,” Five frowned before turning back to ‘Delores’. “This is (Y/N), Delores. You know… the one I told you about.”

“You… talk about me to the mannequin? Should I be flattered or weirded out?”

“Oh, be quiet,” Five sighed and turned away. (Y/N) suddenly felt silly for being jealous last night. “No, I’m not drunk.”

“What?” (Y/N) frowned at the boy, who shook his head.

“Talking to Delores. She thinks I’m- Yes, it’s about the eye thing. This is the place it was made. Or… will be made,” His eyes moved up to his human friend. “We just have to wait…”

He’s actually talking to the mannequin, (Y/N) thought as she turned forward, eyes wide. So, that was what the apocalypse had done to him. She felt bad for him now. Initially, her heart warmed at the thought of Five finding someone to love, but knowing that his mind had gone somewhere far away enough for him to turn to a mannequin for comfort…

“So, (Y/N),” He started, his gaze once again trained on the building before them. “Your children… tell me about them.” Truth be told, Five wanted to know how much they had gotten from their mother. Were they just as humorous? Just as passionate? As wonderful? (Y/N) let out a heartfelt laugh as she closed her eyes.

“Where do I even begin? Michael, he’s… so intelligent. He has the highest reading level in his class and they’re thinking of letting him skip the first grade. He’s such a big help at home with his little sister… I swear, he’s a little man. He’s always trying to test my knowledge. Tries to get me to solve his ‘really hard’ math homework problems…,” She chuckled, Five looking at her with an unreadable expression. “And Jada… she’s such a character. No matter how many times I teach her the days of the week, she always gets them wrong… She wakes me up every morning, trying to guess. I say ‘Jada, if yesterday was Wednesday, what is today?’ and she just starts listing off every wrong answer… She’s a performer, too. I enrolled her into dance classes. Oh, it’s her favorite thing to do… And I’ll admit, she’s good at it. Don’t know where she got that from. Definitely not from me or her dad...”

Five tilted his head thoughtfully. “They sound… just like you. They think they know everything,” He joked with a small smile, (Y/N) playfully glaring at him. “Really, though… They sound like great kids… I’d like to meet them one day.”

“Yeah,” She smiled down at her lap. “I’d love for them to meet you… But I need to be an actual adult before I can face them again. Until then… It’s just checking up every once and awhile…”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” Five frowned as he sat forward. “I- I’m going to figure this out. I promise.”

“I know you will,” She breathed and closed her eyes, her world slowly crashing down on her yet again. “Sorry, I need some air.” And with that, Five was in the car alone. Well, save for Delores. Outside, (Y/N) didn’t have much time to really be with her own thoughts before she heard Luther and Klaus’s voices nearing her. Turning to her right, she spotted the two walking side-by-side towards the van. Upon seeing her, Luther raised a hand.

“(Y/N), you need to get back to the Academy. We found something… and Grace might’ve had something to do with Dad’s death.” He gruffly explained, the young girl straightening to attention.

“Wait, what-”

“I can explain at the house, but we need both you and Five there for the family meeting. Is he in there?” He pointed to the vehicle their brother sat in.

“Yeah, but-”

“Great. Be right back.” Luther’s massive body brushed past her to get to Five, Klaus following behind to get in the back. Not waiting a second longer, she followed her junkie brother inside. When she entered the van again, Luther was trying his hardest to fit his body into the passenger seat as Klaus grabbed Delores, smirking at (Y/N) as he began to dance with the mannequin. She only watched him in disinterest. Once Luther was finally in, he turned to Five. “You okay?”

“You shouldn’t be… How did you find me?” Five’s question was answered when Luther turned to Klaus. With everyone’s attention on him, he looked up from Delores and dropped his smile.

“Hey, a little privacy, guys. We’re really hitting it off back here.” He began to caress Delores’s cheek before screaming when Five threw an object at him, Klaus using the mannequin to block. (Y/N) shook her head and moved closer to Five and Luther, the former fuming.

“Get out! You can’t be here! I’m in the middle of something.”

“Oh, but (Y/N) can be here?”

“Yes! We’re in the middle of something!” Five turned forward as Klaus joined (Y/N) at her side, poking her cheek gently.

“Any luck with your one-eyed man?” He asked her, receiving a head shake. Five sighed and turned to Luther.

“What do you want, Luther?”

Turning his attention away from the conversation between the two, Luther answered Five, “Um… So, Grace might’ve had something to do with Dad’s death. So I need you to come back to the Academy, alright? It’s important.” His request was met with silence for a split second before the time traveller shook his head.

“‘It’s important’. You have no concept of what’s important-”

“Hey!” Klaus interrupted, holding his sister at his side. “Did I ever tell you guys about the time I waxed my ass with chocolate pudding?”

And that was when (Y/N) tuned out the entire conversation between her family. She left Klaus’s side and pressed her back against the back of Luther’s seat, closing her eyes. She knew Five wasn’t going with Luther and Klaus to the house, and she didn’t need to listen to the bickering that would’ve led to that outcome. Her attention was eventually brought to Klaus swinging the back door open, huffing as he got out. She watched him slam the door closed and make his way towards the store across the street. Not trusting him in the slightest, she sent a clone after Klaus, telling it to “watch over him”. At this point, she was waiting for Luther to leave so her growing headache would subside, but it seemed the man wanted to talk some more.

“What the hell are you up to, Five?”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me. Last I checked, I’m still the leader of this family.”

“Well, last I checked, I’m twenty-eight years older than you.” Five tightly smiled before (Y/N) snorted with laughter. The boy rolled his eyes and smiled fondly at her before Luther pulled his attention away.

“You know what your problem is?”

“Really hoping you’ll tell me.”

“You think you’re better than us,” Luther’s words wiped that sarcastic smile right off Five’s face. “You always have. Even when we were kids. But the truth is, you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. We’re all you have… and you know it.” Luther stared at his brother, as the boy slowly inhaled.

“I don’t think that I’m better than you, Number One. I know I am,” He hissed, Luther only chuckling. “I’ve done unimaginable things, things you couldn’t even comprehend.”

“Right...”

“Just to get back here and save you all…” Five stared out the window. (Y/N) sighed and grabbed Delores.

“Luther, out.” She ordered, her “big” brother turning to her with an offended look. “Five’s clearly not going with us. No use arguing with him either. So, just go and I’ll catch up-” She was cut off by the sound of a voice whooping in excitement. The three looked across the street to see Klaus running out of the store, arms full of stolen snacks, the clone following close behind.

“Hey, bitches!” He shouted as a cop chased after them, blowing his whistle. The clone turned to the officer and pushed him away with great force as Klaus was nearly hit by a car. Five’s head followed Klaus’s movement.

“I’m starting to wonder if that was the wisest decision…”

After Luther was sent out of the van, (Y/N) took over the passenger seat once again and set Delores down between them, Five quietly thanking her. “So… I’m going with the guys.”

“What? Why are you wasting your time, I thought you wanted to help me?”

“I do, and I will… But I don’t trust Luther to make decisions right now… I mean, if Mom really did have something to do with Dad’s death… Who knows what he’ll do? The least I can do is try to talk him out of it. I promise, when I’m done, I’ll come and find you.” She softly smiled, gently patting his hand. Five shook his head at her.

“You don’t have to promise me anything… I’m the one who owes you.”

“All you owe me is this,” She gently squeezed his hand. “You being here… That’s what I’ve wanted for so long. Now I have it. So, your debt is paid.” She chuckled. Five rested the back of his head against the seat as his eyes searched her face, trying to find anything that should worry him about her. But all he found was her warm smile and eyes that shone with affection. It suddenly felt inappropriate to have Delores around right now.

“Well, then, you should get going… You’ve gotta catch up with those idiots.”

“Alright. Don’t be out here forever, okay?” (Y/N) leaned in and pecked his cheek before getting out of the car and rushing after her brothers. As he watched her speed away, he tried to regulate his breathing, heartbeat increasing.

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Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya

[itsuki-minamy]

LIMITED KINGSHIP, WAR STORIES:

CHAPTER 2: HEKIREKI & SENDEN

* Mini Episodes KFCN (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Suddenly he realized that the enemy was gone.

The surroundings were full of the dead. Most of the folded corpses belonged to members of the "Purgatory" clan who wore black clothes. Fifteen minutes ago, a hasty force led by Gouki Zenjo raided that warehouse after being contacted by the intelligence department. And then the warehouse turned into a terrible battlefield.

With "Hekireki" bloody on his shoulder, Zenjo started looking for the next enemy to attack. But that no longer existed.

The battle was over and the remnants were hunting. There were still some in black who resisted, but it was only a matter of time before they were crushed or smashed. While he was thinking that, Bado's iron spear pierced one of the black ones, and Azuma's twin sword stabbed another. The "Purgatory" clan member, who had decent fighting ability, didn't seem to be staying anywhere.

"How boring."

He hit the field in an unsightly way and lowered "Hekireki" to the ground.

The next moment, the pile of corpses exploded.

"Zenjo!"

Fresh blood came out from the sword wound all over the body, and flames came from both feet, the one in black clothes was good at fighting. A deadly surprise attack that hid the corpse of a colleague. Long before he understood it, Zenjo tried to shake "Hekireki" with his own super reaction.

He could not.

According to a later investigation, it was an inadvertent collaboration between those in black. One in black that lay behind Zenjo was dying, but was still breathing. With the last of his strength, he grabbed the "outside" blade, regardless of whether his fingers fell.

That caused a delay of a few seconds. Zenjo was just looking at the flaming fingers approaching in front of him, holding "Hekireki's" fixed handle.

But he just grabbed Zenjo's nose.

"You need more than that..."

The one in black clothes who attacked Zenjo stopped in midair. Blood poured from the edge of his mouth which opened and closed with bloody eyes wide open. A thin saber protruded from his chest, and the saber that pierced his chest diagonally from below suddenly stopped the one in black clothing.

"Ah!"

A cheerful voice that did not seem to belong to the place, resounded behind the one in black clothes.

"I'm sorry I made a mistake! Zenjo-san, can you take care of it please?"

It was as easy as asking him to take the remote there. After blinking, Zenjo passed by "Hekireki" and frequently shook the ones in black clothes.

The flames that clung to both feet disappeared.

The body of the man in black, who had lost his neck, was thrown to the ground. A young man standing there waved his saber and wiped off the blood. The friendly look reminded him of a laughing dog.

"No, I made a mistake. If you tap it, it can't be the case, huh? Hahaha…"

"Kuze. You saved me."

Young Kuse laughed cheerfully and waved.

"I just did something extra. Zenjo-san, you could have handled it with a margin."

"No, I couldn't react now. I would have been 'without a nose' at best, because it was aiming at my head."

"Well, is that so? That's good. Soon it's new soba season!"

Zenjo smirked as he tapped on Kuze's shoulder, saying that he was out of focus.

"This season's buckwheat noodles are pretty good too. I'll use chopsticks when I get back to the barracks. Thanks for your help."

"Oh then, make it soba."

"What? Are you going to ask me to make arrangements again?"

Kuse was smiling. Zenjo saw the smile as if he was amazed. Not suitable for a bright appearance, this young man had a very persistent character.

"Well, I wish I could go home."

"Oh, thanks!"

As Kuze struck a gutsy pose, Zenjo shrugged and walked towards a group of hurrying troops who had begun to take care of the remaining work.

++++++++++

The war was escalating.

Kagutsu Detention Center "Red King" crackdown operation. The attack from "Scepter 4" intended to kill Kagutsu Genji was unsuccessful in retrospect. Although the force of "Purgatory" was greatly reduced, the original purpose of the operation was not finally achieved, and Kagutsu left his territory and fled, and the remaining clan members divided into thousands and went into hiding. The hive was destroyed, but the queen bee and the soldier bees were flying now.

The activities of the scattered members of the "Purgatory" clan were almost the same as before. Whenever something happened, there was a danger that they would explode. "Scepter 4" chased after them and they were incapacitated as soon as they were discovered, but "Purgatory" wasn't just silently hunted to death. The damage caused by a fierce counterattack who did not care about his own life was turning into a social problem that could not be covered even by "Tokijikuin".

There were two pressing issues.

One was the search and murder of Kagutsu as soon as possible. As long as that "King" will continue to exist on earth, this war would never end.

And the other was to increase the strength of "Scepter 4".

The battle with "Purgatory", who burned the people, burned the city and even burned themselves, was slowly shaving the staff of "Scepter 4". To make up for the loss, they touted that they had the cause of the war and recruited a large number of talented personnel from the relevant ministries.

Shuichiro Kuze was one of those supplemental staff members.

Originally a police officer, he achieved outstanding results on both his aptitude and skill tests, and joined the "Scepter 4" running unit at exceptional speed. He was a rare human resource who had already been dispatched several times and was not afraid to fight the deadly "Purgatory", but instead displayed a simulation as if he was enjoying it.

For some reason, Kuze teamed up with Zenjo.

Even now, Kuze and Zenjo were undergoing simulated one-on-one training in the training ground of the "Scepter 4" barracks. Except for the fact that the product was a bamboo sword, it was a form of training that came as close to the actual battle as possible. Even attacks on key points were tolerated wherever they were covered by armor.

Kuze raised the bamboo sword to eye level and turned its blade towards Zenjo.

Zenjo carried a large bamboo sword on his shoulder and was about to attack him.

Kuze's specialty was "pushing". His stab, fired by explosive acceleration with a different ability, was roughly equal to the speed of a bullet. It would be impossible to react if it were the perception of an ordinary person.

But, of course, Zenjo was not an ordinary person.

"Let's go!"

The next moment that Kuze said that, the figure disappeared.

An extraordinary light that glowed fluttering blue like the tail of a meteor. Before recognizing it, Zenjo's body was moving. The speed God's sword judgment darted into the void on the right.

Zenjo's bamboo sword touched Kuze's sword that jutted out without fail.

"Ah!"

As he wielded the sword of pursuit, Zenjo was impressed. Viewed from above, the location of the different abilities would have looked like a rank "nine". A blow from outside the field of vision due to explosive acceleration, but it did not exceed Zenjo's reaction speed.

"Che!"

Kuze sped up again, leaving a childish click of the tongue. As he repeated sharp turns ignoring the laws of physics, he jumped incessantly. He was like a spring-loaded toy that swept across the training ground.

Zenjo stopped chasing him with his eyes and closed his lids.

Behind.

Before he felt it, his body was still moving. He turns and cut the space behind him. The cut that was shot deflected Kuze's thrust horizontally upward and hit him like he was a face shield.

"Damn!"

With a stupid voice, Kuze struck and fell to the ground of the training ground. If he had been serious, he would have lost his nose.

"This is the ninth."

Carrying the bamboo sword on his shoulder again, Zenjo said that without pride. Kuze, who had stretched out into a large shape, lifted his upper body as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I thought I could pull it off now... Zenjo-san, do you have eyes behind you?"

"Well, it's clear. You can understand it even if you can't see it."

"Mm... Zenjo-san, another one! Please."

When Kuze lifted his index finger, Zenjo was truly astonished and showed the training ground clock with his chin.

"It's closing time. It will be tomorrow."

"Really? Absolutely tomorrow!"

"I wish they hadn't sent me."

Saying that, while he was a bit crowded, Zenjo headed for the exit. Kuze also put the bamboo sword in a bag and bounced after him.

After taking a shower together, they had dinner later.

The barracks cafeteria was quiet, probably because it was late. Zenjo ordered a hazaru soba and Kuze a kitsune udon, and they ate together.

Kuze talked to Zenjo all the time while he ate.

"Zenjo-san, are you attached to the army?"

"Hmm?"

" I belonged there. There are a lot of people like that in 'Scepter 4', right?"

Surely it was so. The personnel of "Scepter 4" came mainly from other security organizations. Unless they didn't lack combat training on a daily basis, they couldn't withstand the battle with "Purgatory."

However, the situation was different for Zenjo.

After slurping his soba, he said...

"I am from a mountain."

"Mountain?"

"When I was waving a stick in the mountains, I met Habari, so I followed him."

Kuze blinked twice as he pinched the fried food with chopsticks.

"Well, what was that? What kind of situation?"

"Thanks, like I said."

Answering only that, Zenjo took a sip of soba again.

Kuze stared at Zenjo for a while with a surprised face, and then...

"Fu…"

He shook his shoulders and started laughing.

"Hahahahahahahaha! What's wrong, did you meet the commander in the mountains and follow him? Hahaha, Zenjo-san, are you a youkai?"

Zenjo was disappointed in Kuze, who bent over his body and laughed like a child. It was surprising that he was laughed at, although it was not his intention to make him laugh.

"No, sorry, I'm not going to make a fool of myself. But that was very interesting."

"Is it interesting?"

"It's incredibly interesting! I've never met such a person!"

"Mmm...?"

He wondered if that was the case. Originally, Zenjo was a guy who didn't understand many things. If they told him it was interesting, it would be true.

"No, you're good at 'Scepter 4' after all. It's not boring."

As he cheerfully said that, Kuze drank the udon from him. As Zenjo ate the soba noodles, he looked at Kuze as if he was looking at something strange.

"Bored?"

"Yes. The workplace in front of me was already boring. Anyone can do it, such as document preparation, on-site verification and traffic control. More like this, a fierce car chase with the criminal! Fighting battle! Shooting! I was imagining it."

He lifted the bowl and drank the soup.

"So it's so boring that I shouldn't do it. When I was thinking about it, they asked me and I came to try it. I can do what I want every day! It's a lot of fun, right? That's why I think you adapt very well to "Scepter 4"!

Zenjo scratched his cheeks while Kuze drank, wiped his mouth and clasped his hands with a "Thanks for the food!"

"Uh..."

"Isn't that the case with Zenjo-san? Don't you do it because it's medicinal?"

"Eh?"

He wondered if that was the case. Was he enjoying the battle with "Purgatory"?

There was no doubt that he was elevated during the battle. On the battlefield where a momentary judgment divides life and death, that feeling that inspires all cells cannot be experienced anywhere else.

But he didn't think he was struggling to taste it.

When he swung his sword under Habari's command in "Scepter 4", he felt that he was breathing properly. It seemed natural to do so and it "fit." He didn't know if he could describe it as funny.

"Well, that's correct."

It became difficult to think of the way and Zenjo answered that.

"That's right! Well, I'm glad you feel the same way as me!"

Kuze laughed in a friendly way and then a mysterious light fell on his eyes.

"But lately, it's more fun practicing with Zenjo-san than interacting with 'Purgatory'."

"Really?"

"Yes, because Zenjo-san is much stronger than them, so it's fun to do it. Hey, Zenjo-san. Someday, with me…"

Kuze cut off the words when he suddenly remembered. After blinking several times, the mysterious light disappeared. Then suddenly he stood up and held the bowl of kitsune udon in his hands.

"Sorry, it's nothing! So, good night!"

With a smile, Kuze went to the place where the dishes were being returned.

As he drank his soba, Zenjo rebelled against Kuze's words.

(Well, I'm glad you feel the same way as me!)

Maybe it wasn't.

Although they belonged to the same "Scepter 4" and wielded a saber, he felt that something was decisively different between him and Kuze.

He didn't know what it was. He didn't want to think until he knew. Thinking again that he was okay, Zenjo dropped the green onion seasoning into crushed chunks.

++++++++++

Three days later, the hidden member of the "Purgatory" clan in Minari-cho, Fengze-ku, was discovered.

According to the information department report, there was only one member. However, the problem is that he was hiding in the houses of common people. They threatened the inhabitants and parasitized their lives themselves. A bully lurked in his house and behaved inattentive. The father of the family, who could not bear such a situation, rushed to a public institution and discovered his existence.

In response to this, "Scepter 4" quickly formed a unit that rushed over. They ran to the site to "exterminate" the abominable parasite.

However, this time, it was not possible to get through the gate with the transport vehicle and cut it randomly. After all, the other party was alone and the detained hostages were a mother and two young children, according to the father's information. If they took action inadvertently, it would have the worst consequences.

The operation required speed and stealth. "Scepter 4", the deputy director, Gen Shiotsu, selected the appropriate personnel and devised a strategy.

Shuichiro Kuse was included in the staff, but it was boring for him.

Kuze was toying with that idea while biting his yawn in the car.

It had already been three hours since they arrived at the place. Because "Scepter 4" stood out in a transport vehicle, they used an ordinary sedan type and stopped from hiding to blind spot. Kuze sighed softly, looking at him stagnant out the window.

He wished he could rush in and kill him.

It would be easy. He would jump out the door, go through the second floor and invade, and drive the saber into the heart of the guy in black. That was all that was needed.

Kuze understood why he was selected as a runner. The small body was suitable for infiltration, and the "Senden" saber he had was also a slim custom-made one, so it should work effectively in a small room.

So he wanted to do it as soon as possible.

Finally, the long-awaited command came from insiders.

"The target has taken the hostage. I enclose the location."

"Yes!"

He sprang to his feet, grabbed the saber, opened the passenger seat door, and Kuze broke into a run.

In seconds, the target house came into view. When he was hiding behind the wall of a neighbor's house and observing the situation, the transmitter spoke a voice again.

"The target is in the bathroom on the second floor. The children cannot confirm the whereabouts of their mother in the next room. Each member must pay the utmost attention and do everything in their power to secure the hostages."

"Kuze, ready!"

With a light tone, Kuze pulled "Senden" out of the scabbard.

He held his breath and waited for the moment. The plan of the house is engraved on his head. All the images of how he would move, what kind of path he would take and how he would kill the one in black clothes were created in Kuze's brain.

Kuze himself did not know that there were no hostages there.

"Fast!"

By the time Shiotsu's voice echoed, Kuze was jumping.

He jumped off the wall, landed on the ceiling, and ran. At the edge of the field of vision, he could see a blue trail that went through him in the same way. There were a total of four runners, all their own competitors, who aspired to the life of a single man in black. Kuze licked his lips and accelerated to the point where the shingles broke.

He jumped with the same impulse, he broke the second floor window with his body and ran inside.

"Eh?!"

He heard a high-pitched voice. Kuze invaded the children's room on the second floor. According to the information, two children who were less than elementary school students were shaking in a corner of the room.

Kuze ignored it.

The problem was that of black clothes. If he killed him, everything would be solved. So that should take precedence. Kuze thought that way and stepped out into the second floor hallway.

Their eyes met.

There was a figure in black clothes in the bathroom that was left open. However, when Kuze found him, he was strangling and using the children's mother as a shield.

"Stay away, blue clothes! This woman will die!"

He could barely see the one in black who was angry. Very firmly, he was hiding behind the woman. The scared woman shook her head, while she shook her head, he looked and disappeared his face burned in black.

Before thinking of anything, Kuze was kicking the ground.

If he killed him, that would be it. That was the only priority, and everything else was wiped from Kuze's head.

Many things happened at the same time.

"Kuze, stop!" One of the rushing staff members yelled.

"Damn it!" The man in black's burned face turned red, and the flame-filled woman screamed in tears.

Time seemed to flow slowly. He could feel precisely the extraordinary light of "Senden", the heat of the flames that sprouted from the face of the man in black and the smell of the flesh that enveloped her.

In the slowdown time, Kuze analyzed various factors and...

(Oh, this person can't be helped anymore.), he thought.

Too easily, he cut off the hostage's life.

This being the case, the hostage's body was no longer a problem. It was just a corpse, a wall of flesh less than 8 inches.

It did not hinder "Senden".

With a half-smile, Kuze stabbed hard forward.

A bright blue tip pierced the woman's chest, and the heart of the man in black was skewered and glued to the bathroom wall.

"......"

The woman opened and closed her mouth. Kuze tilted his head and looked at her face, thinking that she looks like a dying goldfish.

When Kuze drew the saber, the woman and the one in black fell one on top of the other. Their bloods mixed.

The bodies clung to each other and wet Kuze's shoes.

He takes a breath and inform the others.

"We have deactivated the objective. The mission is complete."

At the same time, an angry sound rang out from behind.

"Kuze! Damn! What did you do?!"

He thought, and looked at the owner of the voice as if he was confused. It was Shinohara, who belonged to the same group as him. He was yelling something when he flushed with anger, but Kuze couldn't understand the meaning of the word. He turned his neck and face away to keep them from flying off.

The frozen facial expressions of the two boys, looking through the door, were reflected in Kuze's field of vision.

++++++++++

"Do you know what you did?"

"Scepter 4", Shiotsu made a heavy voice in the barracks interview room.

Shuichiro Kuze, standing in front of him, replied as if nothing had happened.

"I killed the member of the 'Purgatory' clan. I think it was an unavoidable decision in that situation."

"Right now, 'Purgatory' is not the problem. The problem is Kuze, you stabbed the hostage and killed her."

"I did not murder her. At that time, the woman had already been killed by the one in black clothes. Should I be so reprimanded for damaging her corpse?"

Shiotsu had various reports in front of him.

"Shinohara's report is different. At that time, Shinohara said that the woman was still alive. However, he testified that you ignored the warning and approached the black-robed one and went through him."

"In my eyes, she looked dead."

Kuze spoke clearly.

"I think it would have been difficult to help her, even if she had a break. Is it the right decision to leave the dangerous clansman to help a dying woman? If the action was delayed, hers, two of her children and I could have been euthanized."

"It is not you who should judge whether the woman would be saved or not."

"The judgment of the site should be left to the members of the site."

Shiotsu groaned softly.

What Kuze said was correct in some respects. In the battle with "Purgatory", a momentary misjudgment could be fatal. And that moment came innumerably. It was not enough to have many lives if they were all compared with the regulations of the body and the current law. Above all, Kuze said that a certain amount of excessive acts should be allowed to protect one's life.

But…

Shiotsu watched Kuze's expression.

There was no expression floating there. Self-blame, regret, remorse. He couldn't read any of the emotions the one with the almost innocent human hands would have.

Shiotsu muttered to himself that that was the real problem.

"Kuze..."

At that moment, Shiotsu silently inhaled, and then...

"Where do you think the meaning of 'Scepter 4' is?"

"Eh…?"

"Answer it. What's 'Scepter 4' for?"

For the first time, the color of hesitation reached Kuze's expression.

As he listened to Shiotsu, Kuze replied.

"Kill the enemy. Annihilate "Purgatory" and bring peace to society."

Shiotsu sighed deeply and said.

"No. You are definitely misunderstanding."

"......"

"Our mission is to protect the general public. The sword to protect those who cannot resist the weapon of incompetence, that is 'Scepter 4'."

"It's the same as I said, right?"

In the words that Kuze muttered, unprecedented emotions appeared.

He was frustrated.

"Killing those in black clothes is to protect the general public. If they are left unattended, tens or even hundreds of people will die if they are not treated well. To avoid that, isn't it natural to leave two people alone?"

"Still, we should not be the ones to kill. We should be the ones to protect the people. If there is a defenseless civilian, that is why we have the power to protect ourselves."

"It's stupid."

Kuze laughed through his nose. His dark and bright gaze seemed harsher, as he generally had a friendly gaze.

"Why do we have to do that? It is so stupid for a good person to be sacrificed for an inferior person."

Shiotsu closed his eyes.

What swirled around his chest was not anger at Kuze, but responsibility for himself.

He may have been too impatient to make up for the personnel lost in the battle with "Purgatory". He had hired a person who lacked the most important qualities, distracted only by the ability to fight. He should have known well what would happen if that person had a different ability and special power.

People who cannot control themselves will eventually use their different abilities as they wish.

How is it different from "Purgatory"?

Shiotsu slowly opened his eyes and said in a low voice,

"Shuichiro Kuse. Say goodbye to "Scepter 4" from now on."

++++++++++

Kuze, who came out of the interview room, was looking vaguely at the ceiling of the hallway.

(I blew it.), he thought.

With that in mind, he sighs. This time, he looked down at the ground and started walking.

When he was called by Shiotsu, Kuze had decided what he should do. That was a field decision and he didn't think he had done anything wrong. He intended to stick to that statement.

It is the members of the field who exchange lives. However, it was not uncommon for him to be blamed for a later trial. It was a common feeling not only for Kuze but also for the ER personnel.

Shiotsu was smart and looked closely at the members. That is why he thought that he would not give such a severe punishment based on his thoughts.

"He was telling me something strange."

Kuze lied and looked at his hand. When he focused his consciousness there, the blue glow of the extraordinary shimmered.

It was proof that he was an excellent person and a chosen one.

Kuze couldn't respond well to Shiotsu's words asking the meaning of "Scepter 4". That was because Kuze didn't know. Therefore, he got a rag out of there. It didn't matter if the general public died or lived, he knew that his true intentions would probably not be forgiven within the organization, so he hid it.

The important thing for Kuze was to use that power in all directions to fight. Fight "Purgatory", bypass the momentary deadline and end the life of the enemy. Never in a dull life until now, was it a bright day.

That was stolen from him.

Because he took a boring life from a boring human.

Kuze sighed again and suddenly raised his face.

A familiar giant was walking down the hall. Kuze laughed and raised a hand.

"Hey, Zenjo-san."

"Oh, Kuze?"

Zenjo's eyebrows widened when he noticed that Kuze was there for the first time.

"What are you doing in a place like this? Is it training?"

"No."

Kuze laughed bitterly and...

"Hey, I've been preaching to the vice principal. I'm here for that."

"Oh, Shiotsu? It's loud."

Sympathy reached Zenjo's eyes. Seeing that, Kuze's smile changed to a natural one.

That person knew himself.

He had always felt that way. Zenjo, like himself, rejoiced in the fight. He was a person who should have the nature of killing people rather than helping people. So, Kuze was sure that if he talked about the situation, this person would be on his side.

"But you're almost right."

Zenjo simply denied the idea.

"Eh?"

"Shiotsu is loud, but he's always right. If he claims something from you, you're wrong. I wonder what he was. Apologize properly."

"......"

Kuze looked at his toes.

"Yes, what is that?"

"If that is all."

"I see."

Kuze scratched his head again with a bitter smile.

"In a way that's correct. I thought it was suitable for 'Scepter 4', but surprisingly, isn't it?"

"Eh?"

Zenjo mysteriously shook his head, thought for a moment and then nodded.

"That's right. You said you were the same as me, but I think you are different from me."

"......"

"I can't put it right. You might not be good at 'Scepter 4'. You should stop in time."

Zenjo said that in a wonderful and irresponsible way.

Kuze was about to start laughing. Interestingly, he didn't get mad at all. This was because it had been broadcast that Zenjo was saying that from the bottom of his heart without any malicious intent.

After all, Kuze didn't dislike Zenjo. He was clean, natural, and stronger than anyone. That's why he liked dealing with this person, because he could fight without shackles.

He regretted thinking that he couldn't do that from now on.

Then, Kuze suddenly glowed.

"Ah!"

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

"Sorry Zenjo-san, I just remembered my errand now! I'm done!"

In a hurry, Kuze ran down the hall. Zenjo said, "Oh...?", and gave up, but Kuze suddenly stopped and looked back.

"Please help me again later!"

Zenjo laughed and nodded.

"Oh, I have to be sent."

"Still, please!"

Kuze ran away, saying just that with a smile.

It was that night that Shuichiro Kuze disappeared with "Senden".

++++++++++

When he got out of the transport car, a warm wind caressed Zenjo's cheeks.

The policeman raised his face and smelled a faint smell on the wind. He was delving into the battlefield with "Purgatory". He smelled like sticky, burnt blood.

According to the map, the back alley where the discovery of the men in black was reported was divided into T-shapes. The unit split into three hands, blocking all exits. The most important thing to prevent was that those in black clothes escaped. They had to make sure to capture or neutralize them, even if they took some risks.

At that moment, in front of Zenjo, the entrance to the back alley was black and open.

"Over there."

At random, Zenjo entered an alley.

The back alley was narrow and dark. Polyethylene buckets and outdoor units blocked the street, and the walls of the building that approached from the left and right blocked the sunlight. If one in black clothes came out of the shadows and emitted a flame of extraordinary skill, there would be no way around it. It could be said that this was also a dead place.

Still, Zenjo was not afraid and advanced slowly.

The process suddenly stopped.

Shinohara, who was following Zenjo, said groaning.

"What is the situation? What is this?"

One in black clothes was dead, as if his back was against the wall of the building.

Wide-eyed and in a pool of blood. The burned right hand was soaked in the blood clot, burning and producing black smoke. This was probably the cause of the smell.

In the first place, it was a mystery from the initial discovery report.

It was said that several of the black clothes were fighting. At the time, there were no "Scepter 4" units deployed nearby, and since the Hiiragi incident, the police had been told to stay away from the men in black. Most likely it was a fight between those in black, but in the current situation where they were hiding in a scattered way, he did not think they would do such an outstanding act.

So who was fighting the ones in black?

Zenjo, who was inspecting the corpse in black, said the answer.

"It's Kuze."

"What…?!"

"It is pierced all over the body. This is due to 'Senden'."

Saying that, Zenjo stood up.

Since that night, Kuze's whereabouts have been known to be uncertain. Kuze's legal status was the same as an "Illegal Strain" since he was fired from "Scepter 4". They had to capture him and put a skill suppressor on him, but there weren't enough personnel to track him down in "Scepter 4".

Kuze killed the ones in black and, perhaps, he was still hiding in that place.

"But why is Kuze here?"

Shinohara said that, and suddenly closed his mouth.

Someone slowly emerged from the darkness behind the alley.

It was also one of black clothes.

"Oh, fufu...!"

His face was distorted with anger and hatred, and blood was pouring from his entire body to the point that his black suit was still drenched in red and black. Legs wobbly, the one in black slowly approached.

"Gah!"

The tip of the saber protruded from his chest.

The saber was instantly pulled out and the one in black collapsed to his knees.

Zenjo spoke the name from behind him, standing there.

"Hekireki."

"Oh, Zenjo-san!"

Dressed in a dark green raincoat, Kuze smiled at his face, which had been bathed in blood, and called out to Zenjo cheerfully.

"No, I'm lucky! I can't get it all of a sudden!"

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

Eyes blinking, Kuze looked around him, and mysteriously at himself.

"What's wrong? It's not a job. I got fired from 'Scepter 4'."

He shook "Senden" to spill the blood.

"But if you look for the black clothes, 'Scepter 4' will come, right? Maybe Zenjo-san is there! I thought it was good."

While he smiled, Kuze,

"I never thought we could meet at once! I'm lucky! So…"

He crouched down and pointed the tip of "Senden".

"Let's go."

Before Zenjo thought of anything, Kuze was kicking the ground.

The glow of the blue genie was diffusely reflected in the narrow back alley. He bounced off the ground, scaled walls, emergency stairs, he went up, down, left and right, and hit everything, drawing an unpredictable trajectory like a pinball.

Shinohara, who was behind Zenjo, couldn't even follow Kuze with his eyes. But Zenjo reacted.

It was also an action before thinking. The thick blade of "Hekireki" flipped up as the wind scattered.

The dark green raincoat split in half.

Kuze was no longer there. He twisted in midair, tossed his raincoat, and landed on the ground.

Zenjo kept "Hekireki" jumping and stopped in an unprotected posture. Looking at his empty torso, a fierce smile appeared on Kuze's mouth.

(I caught you!), he thought.

With extraordinary power in his legs, Kuze tried to strike a stroke of luck.

He felt the shock in his chest.

"Eh?"

He lost the strength of his leg. His soles did not separate as if they were stuck to the ground. Interestingly, he looked under his feet and saw a saber thrust into his chest.

"Ah?"

When he coughed, a blood clot spilled from his lips.

Kuze slowly looked at Zenjo.

Zenjo was flipping "Hekireki", with just his right hand.

Before he knew it, he held another saber in his left hand. That pierced through Kuze's chest.

"Oh, wow...!"

Kuze distorted the edge of his mouth when he heard Shinohara make a panicky voice.

"Hey, Shinohara. It's a pay cut to have a saber stolen from you."

When Zenjo drew the saber, Kuze sank into place.

The blood was overflowing. The color of his face was white and transparent. It was clear to everyone that it was no longer useful.

Still, Kuze was somewhat satisfied. He looked at Zenjo and laughed weakly.

"After all... you are amazing, Zenjo-san. I couldn't get over you."

"Kuze."

There was no anger or sadness in Zenjo's expression, just confusion.

"What did you want to do?"

"What?"

Kuze shook his shoulders and laughed. Eventually the laughter turned into a cough and the exhaled blood created a series of stains in the alley.

"I wanted to. A real and potentially deadly battle with Zenjo-san."

Breathing out, Kuze fell onto his side.

"It was fun."

That was the last word from him.

Zenjo, holding a bloody saber, shot a confused look at Kuze's corpse.

[tired0artist]

not enough (part two)

>part one<

paring: female!V x Johnny Silverhand

warnings: depression, amnesia, alcoholism, angst, fluff, happy ending (but you gotta wait for it), character (near) death

summary: continuation to the first part.

note: as before I will be describing my V. and yes, there will be a third part. I’m not gonna be a cunt and leave you guys with this lmao.

————<•>————

V was pointlessly walking through the city, staring at her feet. It wasn’t raining like in the old movies she and Johnny watched in the old cinema after Rouge left. No. It was loud, smelly, bright and full of people.

She ended up in the park where she first met Zen master and sat down on a bench. V stared at her still shaking hands and wished that suddenly she would feel a small pinch in her brain and Johnny would appear out of nowhere.

He would appear just to talk shit about people passing by, hoping to make her laugh or annoy her enough so that she would take her mind off of whatever was bothering her.

But he wasn’t there. Her Johnny was probably gone... what’s left is in her brain. While the other Johnny didn’t seem to even want to look at her... maybe he truly just didn’t like her. And she was trying to do the impossible.

Suddenly she got a call. Third time this night. From the same person.

She picked up and said “Hey, Kerry...”

Kerry’s tired and panicked face appeared and he seemed to be driving “V!! Oh thank what ever is watching over us! Fuck honey! I was so worried, where are you? Where did you go at night? Was it Johnny again? I swear I’ll kick his young ass for what he’s doing to you!”

V choked on a sobb. Somehow hearing Kerry’s voice and the worry for her of all people in his voice... cause her to break and just whimper.

“Kerry...”

He stopped talking and looked into his phone, asking gently “Honey, where are you? I’ll come get you”

After explaining where she was, Kerry had her keep the call going. He wanted to know if she was safe.

Not even ten minutes passed, as Kerry found her. He immediately hugged the young woman to his chest and caressed her black thick hair.

“Shhh... I’m here honey. Come on, let’s go home”

Kerry led V to his expensive car and soon he was driving the now silent woman to his mansion. He was growing worried as she entered the residence without a word, took her naked cat and went inside her room.

V took off her clothes, putting on an old SAMURAI shirt and a pair of sport shorts. She got under the covers with Nibbles, she kissed the cat’s head as he snuggled into her shirt, seeking warmth.

She must’ve fell asleep because what woke her up was yelling coming from somewhere in the villa. V got up and took her gun, intending to blast whoever was a threat. What she didn’t expect is to see Rogue on the couch across from Kerry who was smoking.

V didn’t make herself known yet as she listened to the pair.

“—told him to fuck off and look for a new place. I don’t care that he doesn’t have a place to stay at. He was fucking with V too much. I tried looking the other way, but I fucking can’t. He’s worse than ever” Rogue said putting her phone in her pocket.

“Back in our day... he was an asshole. Sure. But now? What he’s doing isn’t even like him...” Kerry said, with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not surprised that V finally had enough. Poor kid... we should’ve intervened”

“No” V said, walking out from behind a pillar “It’s between him and me. He didn’t do anything to you, if anything he is nice to you. He doesn’t deserve this from you...”

“Kid, did you hit your head? He’s a complete psycho—“ Rogue started.

“To me, not to you. I don’t want you to take it out on him. He needs you both” V stated, looking away “He doesn’t need me anymore but you two are important to him... I’ll be fine. I’ll leave him alone, if he’ll need anything he’ll come... like he did for the last month...”

Kerry stood up and wrapped his arm around V saying “No, no. No more helping him out from you. You tried to be there for him and he’s worse than ever. So from now on, leave him be. Deny any request and just let him figure it out. Just like he did inside your brain”

“He’s right. Fuck Johnny. Let him find his way to you” Rogue said, while crossing her arms.

V looked between them and finally nodded “Okay... maybe you’re right. He needs to process everything on his own”

“Yup. Of course we’ll be there for him, but your door is closed honey. If he’ll want in, then the fuck will have to find a window to enter through” Kerry said, trying to cheer up the younger woman.

She smiled a bit but soon looked away. One question on her mind, ever since she left Johnny.

And of course nothing goes unnoticed with the Queen of Afterlife in the room.

“What is it kid? There’s something more bothering you” she stated.

Kerry immediately sat V down next to him on the couch saying “Come on, V. You can tell us anything”

V stared at her hands and finally asked “Do you think that... if Johnny and I met normally and not through the chip... would he still... would he and I—“

“Well kid, he would be old like us. But knowing Johnny, he would have his eyes on you the first time you stepped inside Afterlife with that friend of yours” Rogue said with a small smile, thinking about the situation.

“And if he didn’t see you there, then probably after finding out that you were the one stealing from Arasaka? And rumoured that you were somehow involved with the death of Saburo? V, he would have wedding rings ordered” Kerry said with a laugh, as Rogue snorted.

“The man would be stumbling over his feet for you if things were normal, kid”

V laughed along with them, her heart somehow feeling lighter the longer she spent time with Rogue and Kerry. To her they were like a clan. Like a family.

As weeks went by, V returned to her work but was also in charge of the security at Afterlife. Which meant a lot of fucking paper work, dealing with idiots and sitting with Rogue. Keeping an eye out for anyone who would want to kill the woman.

Johnny tried calling V couple of times during the first few weeks. She didn’t answer any of his calls, although her heart was heavy with worry. Because what if he really needed help? What if someone stabbed him and he was bleeding out in some alleyway?

This paranoia caused V to call Rogue or wake up Kerry so that they could call the man and find out what’s going on.

Each time they either got a question.

“Where’s V?”

Or if he was drunk enough they got a statement.

“I need V”

But every time his friends would refuse him anything related to the young nomad.

Whenever V saw Johnny at Afterlife she simply left the room or just kept her distance. Giving him space.

Although it felt like he didn’t want space. Because whenever she stayed in the room, his dark eyes would be on her the whole time.

One time a guy came over to V and tried to seduce her, drunkenly. The guy was getting a bit too touchy and she was just about to get the fucker out of the Afterlife. But before she could even push him away, the guy got yanked back buy his shoulder so hard, that V was sure it was dislocated.

“Fucking dog. Out. Now”

She looked up in confusion just to see Johnny dragging the guy outside of the Afterlife. V wanted to go after him, but decided to stay and instead ordered Jackie’s disgusting drink and went to sit with Rogue.

The Queen of the Afterlife smiled at V as she sat down next to her. Around an hour later, Johnny came up to Rogue asking for some intel.

V tried to look away from him, but the seemingly fresh blood on his metal arm and on his neck, caught her attention. She stared at it in slight shock and looked up just to see Johnny staring at her. He didn’t say anything. But his eyes screamed. Without a word to V, he thanked Rogue and left.

Next morning they found a body in an alleyway near the Afterlife.

One evening V was at Afterlife for a different reason, than normally.

She was sitting at the bar talking to Claire when she heard someone call her name. With a smile she turned to see Judy and Panam walking inside.

“Hey, there V. Finally found the time for us huh?” Judy said as she sat down at the bar, the other girl following.

“Yeah I was waiting for a fucking call, you asshole. The fuck were you doing?” Panam said, already ordering a beer.

V’s heart felt lighter as she was around her girls and immediately she regretted not calling them sooner.

“Sorry, I was busy and things were complicated for a bit. But hey, I’m back on board” she said while raising her glass.

“Fine, you’re off the hook for tonight” Judy said, while Panam mumbled something under her breath. Unwilling agreeing.

“Thanks, really I want us to meet up more. I’m no longer dying so, how about we have fun?” V joked slightly.

“Sure, what’s on the menu? I’ve never been here for a drink before” Judy said.

Claire came up, hearing this and said “First time? Well people here, like V and her friend did, normally order Silverhand on their first visit”

Both Panam and Judy frowned at it, as V simply said “Fuck that, three Jackie Wells’s for us. Time to change the favourite drink”

Claire grinned and got to work.

“Is it any good?” Panam asked as soon as the three of them had the drinks in their hands.

V laughed and shook her head “It’s the worst drink Jackie ever made for me. Cheers”

While V downed her drink whole, Judy got couple of sips in before asking for something else. But Panam much like V, drank the whole thing. But she actually enjoyed it.

“You’re fucking weird Panam” V laughed as Panam once again ordered Jackie’s drink.

“A psychopath” Judy agreed with a smirk.

Panam flipped them off, saying “You don’t have raste, chooms. And V here is the true psychopath. She drinks it even though she doesn’t like it”

“Fuck off, Panam” V laughed and finished her drink, calling Claire over saying “Okay Claire, one Silverhand for me!”

“Coming right up!” the bartender called back.

“By the way how’s your parasite doing? Still neck deep in shit?” Judy asked, looking at V closely.

“Yeah, you kicked his ass right?” Panam added, already looking pissed.

V simply sighed and thanked Claire as she handed her the drink.

“It’s not that easy... let’s not talk about him tonight. I want to hang out with my chooms for a bit”

Both girls looked ready to push V but eventually nodded, changing the subject.

The rest of the night they spend drinking, dancing and laughing at some dumb shit. It made V, feel like she did with Jackie when she first came to the Nightcity.

It was getting bright by the time the girls left the Afterlife. They were giggling shits, as V was searching for a cig.

“I thought you weren’t smoking” Panam said as she watched V clumsyly lit up a cigarette and passing it to Judy.

“I’m not... Judy and I are sharing” V said with a laugh.

Panam snorted and leaned against a wall, Judy following as V stood in front of the girls.

V was looking around, while smoking as if looking for something.

“V you okay?” Panam asked in confusion.

“Huh? Yeah just looking for Johnny... he usually comes out when I smoke”

Judy passed her the cigarette with a frown saying “V, he’s not in your head anymore”

V flinched and stared at the smoking cigarette in her hand “Oh... yeah... I guess, I forgot...” slowly she brought the cig to her lips, as Panam scoffed.

“Fucking Silverhand... why didn’t you just kick his ass when he came back as a amnesiac asshole?”

“Yeah V... he was treating you like shit. Why did you go through with it?” Judy asked.

V started shaking as tears gathered in her violet eyes, she sniffed saying “B-Because I promised him... back in Mikoshi. He was afraid of going back to who he was and of being alone... I promised him that I— that I would be there for him. That I wouldn’t hate him”

“Okay, but still. V that wasn’t healthy, the fucker shouldn’t ask for the impossible from you” Panam said.

“Panam is right. Besides your not his babysitter, it’s better that you’d leave—” Judy added, only to get cut off by V nearly yelling.

“I love him”

The girls watched in stunned silence as the young nomad, fell apart in front of them.

“I love him so much it fucking hurts. I love him so much that, I let him treat me like that because I knew that it was his defence mechanism. He was fucking testing if I really wouldn’t leave him... but I failed because I couldn’t handle it anymore... and I can only hope that he’ll find his way... even without me”

V was sobbing and she threw the cigarette on the ground and left, calling a cab to get her.

Not realising that what stunned her girls wasn’t her breaking down. But the man who stood behind her, looking at her in shock as he heard her every word.

Next morning, or rather afternoon was harsh for V. She woke up feeling like shit, her body screaming at her every move.

“Fuck...” she mumbled, while getting out of bed. V made her way through the large villa to the living room, where Kerry was keeping his painkillers. He was already there, playing his guitar.

“Oh look who has returned to the living! I thought that you died there, honey” Kerry said, enjoying the rough state the young woman was in.

“Shut up, Kerry... or I swear I’ll shove that guitar up your ass” V mumbled taking the painkillers.

Kerry laughed and shook his head, taking out his phone he said “I’ll order us some dinner, while you go and make yourself a drink”

V nodded and left the room, trying not to think about the bad hangover she had when Johnny took over.

In the evening she was back at Afterlife. Claire laughed as she saw the rough state the merc was in.

“Rough night?”

V glared slightly saying “Don’t you know it, you demon in disguise... why did you let me drink so much?”

“Well it’s my job, hun. But you really went overboard. When Rogue saw your bill? I throught that she would have a heart attack”

“Fuck... did she ask to see it? Anyway how much to I owe you?”

Claire laughed saying “Rogue payed for it all, so nothing. Also you need to go see her, she’s waiting”

V paled as she glanced at Rogue’s booth, the older woman was already watching her.

“Shit. Okay Claire, I need one shot of tequila before I talk to her”

Claire nodded while laughing, saying “Damn you’re acting like a kid who got caught stealing candy”

V drank the shot and said “I always feel like that with Rogue, so wish me luck”

“I hope you don’t get grounded and still come over to play” Claire joked as V flipped her off.

As V walked over to the Queen of Afterlife, she smiled sheepishly saying “Uhh... hey Rouge?”

The woman’s eyes were cutting as she said “Saw your tab, kid. You’re trying to off yourself? I’m surprised you even got up this morning”

“Oh come on, it was a girls night out. You know that I don’t party that often”

“That’s true, just go more slowly next time. Your body is still regenerating after the relic. Now, I’ve got a job for you” Rogue said.

Hours later V was bleeding out in Pacifica, behind a fucking crate inside some dirty warehouse. She killed everyone, including the target but what was it worth if she couldn’t move.

“Fuck...” she hissed, while calling Rogue.

The woman’s face appeared as she asked “V? Job done?”

V coughed up some blood “Yeah, but I’m kinda bleeding out... in the warehouse...”

Rogue looked scared but something else caught her gaze as she yelled out “Johnny! Fuck! V hang on, I think he’s coming for you. I need to give him a call and exact location, stay awake kid”

With that the call ended and V was left all alone. She focused on the pain, trying to stay awake. Tears were running down her cheeks as she was scared shitless. She died once and it wasn’t pretty. She didn’t want to go again.

As she held her hands on her bleeding stomach, she couldn’t help but think about Jackie.

Is this how he felt in his last moments? This is the pain he felt? Well fuck.

V was at the verge of falling asleep as a Porsche burst through the doors of the warehouse. The bang woke her up a bit, as her heart speed up a bit.

She heard the cardoor open, following by a yell.

“V?! It’s Johnny! Where are you?!”

She tried to scream but ended up coughing up some more blood. Thankfully it was enough for Johnny to hear her as he came running.

He fell on his knees in front of her and touched her hands, taking them away from her wound.

“H-How—“

“Shh.. don’t talk. You’ll be fine, you hear me? You’ll be okay, sweetheart” he said while patching her up a bit. His military training helping at times like this.

V was shaking, her eyes trying to roll back into her skull.

“Johnny... cold...”

“Fuck... hang on V. Eyes on me, okay? You’ll be fine” he said, his own hands trembling a bit as he desperately patched her up.

V could see black spots as the coldness was starting to surround her, she didn’t even feel Johnny’s hands working on her.

She barely raised her hand and touched his face, taking off his glasses clumsily. V smiled at his dark eyes, whispering.

“Th-Thank you...” with the last grip on consciousness she smirked “Lo-Love you... Robert”

Johnny’s face turned white and shocked, and V felt glad that for the last time she managed to make this asshole speechless and have the last word.

•there will be part three as I said above so follow me or just check the tag “Johnny Silverhand x V”

•also English isn’t my first language so sorry for any errors.

•thank you all for reading this and the first part. I’m not good at writing angst and catching people’s feelings but with V and Johnny angst is a must hahah

Tag list (if you wanna be tagged leave a comment): @dartheldur @signwriting @missweatherwax @commanding-officer @lovinghunty

[supercasey]

So I've been playing The Hades Game like fucking mad for the last few weeks, and although I'm not very far in it (at least, I don’t think I am; I’ve only beat Hades once!), I'm absolutely in love with it! Anyways, a certain idea has been kicking around in my head for awhile now, so I thought I'd share it with y'all; feel free to tell me what you think of it! (Warning: spoilers for when you beat Hades the first time!)

Anyways, I've already seen a really cool AU post for if Demeter raised Zagreus on the surface by herself (which you can find HERE; please check it out, the outfit for Zag alone is an amazing concept, and I love the artwork!!!) but I keep thinking about an AU where, after Zagreus dies at birth, Persephone runs away and takes his wrapped up body with her.

On the surface, she reconnects/reunites with her mother Demeter, and with her aid, the two of them manage to resurrect the newborn baby, though now he has more white in his hair than anything else. After that, Persephone sends Hades a letter to tell him that Zagreus is alive and well (because she actually has some fucking class), before proceeding to raise Zagreus on the surface with her mother, far away from the entrance to hell. The Olympians also help her out a bit, but mostly they just help by hiding Zagreus when it’s necessary.

(The rest is under a cut ‘cus this got a bit long, sorry!)

Years pass in relative peace, until Zagreus is about as old as he is in-game (I think he’s around 20-25ish???) and is living well, working with his mom and grandma to take care of their gardens and live peacefully away from mankind; he especially loves tending to the animals and guiding lost mortals to safety. However, one day while foraging for fruit in the deepest corners of his mother’s signature garden, Zagreus happens across a strange man in long robes, who introduces himself as Thanatos.

The two men get along swimmingly from minute one, and after agreeing to meet with each other again soon, they leave and tell their families/friends all about the experience, having no clue who they are to each other. After all, Thanatos was told growing up that his lord’s first wife died giving birth to their first and only child, who was a stillborn, and Zagreus thinks his father died of disease (his mom didn’t have to heart to tell him anything bad about his dad). Needless to say, they’re gonna be in for quite the shock soon.

Cue Hades losing his shit and calling on Thanatos, Megaera, and Achilles to go find his progeny and bring him home; he gives them special permission to leave the Underworld without any resistance, trusting Than to lead the way back to Zagreus. Achilles is less than thrilled to be performing such a morally grey task for his master, but Meg and Than are eager to prove themselves, so he begrudgingly agrees to help, even if it hurts his conscience to do so.

Persephone and Demeter also freak the hell out on their end, scared shitless by the fact that Death incarnate has just met their son/grandson, and they’re worried that he plans on coming back again soon. Demeter suggests sending Zagreus to live with the Olympians until this all blows over, but Persephone disagrees, wanting her son to stay nearby in case he grows ill (it’s implied that she’s a bit overprotective of him, mostly because she’s afraid of him dying again; this also means she refuses to let him know that he’s in any danger, believing it would only make things worse for him in the long-run). Frustrated but understanding her daughter’s pain all too well, Demeter at least convinces her to call on the Olympians for aid, which Persephone agrees to do.

The gods promise to help of course, but... well, they're low-key lying; they wanna see how this plays out first.

After several days of traveling through hell (literally), the “let’s kidnap Zagreus” gang makes it to the surface, and they immediately head to Persephone’s garden. All this time, Zagreus has no idea that he’s being targeted, so he goes about his chores as usual, only to run into Than again, and hey, he brought some more friends for him to meet! Zagreus is friendly with all of them, being raised to be very polite by his guardians, and while he’s busy chatting with Than and Achilles, he doesn’t notice Meg sneaking behind him. Just as Zagreus is rattling on about how the animals have been faring this summer, Meg stabs Zagreus in the back with a blade coated in Hades’s blood, cursing him to belong to the Underworld again.

With Zagreus now unconscious from a sedative that was mixed with the blood, the trio hurry off with him back to the Underworld, but not without Persephone seeing what they’ve done to her son. Horrified, she begins to sob, and winter arrives in the mortal world without so much as a fall season in-between this and the summertime.

When Zagreus comes to, he finds himself in a bedroom similar to the one he has in the game, but it’s much cleaner and has less objects of personal value to him. Hades is standing at the foot of his bed when he wakes up, and very calmly, Hades tells Zagreus that he’s his father, and that from now on, Zagreus will be living in the Underworld with him and his people, where he so obviously belongs. It’s a shame his mother can’t be here, of course, but they just need to wait awhile, that’s all; surely she’ll come to her senses and return home soon, now that her husband and son are here.

Zagreus jumps out of bed and faces his father as soon as he’s done monologuing, ready to tell him off for what he’s done, but to his shock, Hades hugs him as soon as he’s on his feet, and admits that he’s waited for this day for a long, long time. He asks his son to please just accept that this is his home now, and despite still being a bit surprised (and subtly hugging Hades back because Longing), Zagreus tells him straight up that he can’t, that he has to get home, especially with winter coming in a few months!

Dejected but not overly surprised, Hades simply nods in acceptance, but he still warns Zagreus that it’s no use trying to fight it; he’s stuck here, now and forever, so he may as well get comfortable and try getting along with him, because no one’s going anywhere anytime soon. Zagreus is horrified, but he nods nonetheless, unsure of what to say or do just yet.

Later that night, as Zagreus is struggling to sleep in this new, unfamiliar place, Achilles comes to him and apologizes about what’s happened, and although he can’t magically fix everything for him, he tells Zagreus that it actually is supposedly possible to escape; it’s just that no one’s ever done it before. Driven by his desire for freedom and the thought of reuniting with his mother, Zagreus tells Achilles that he’s going to find a way out, no matter the cost. Achilles congratulates him on his tenacity, but warns him that it won’t be easy. Still, he’s willing to help Zagreus as much as he can.

From then on, I imagine the game playing out very differently from the original, with a rather frazzled and scared Zagreus trying to get home to his mom and grandma, but with none of his training from Achilles in this AU, he has to rely on something his mother taught him; his connection with earth and all it’s inhabitants. Or, in his case, his connection with the spirits of animals (a cross of his dad and mom’s powers). That’s right, I’m making The Hades Game into a fucking Pokemon-ripoff, but still with some rouge-like elements mixed in (mostly with Zagreus not keeping his animals after runs).

Having royally fucked up in not stepping in sooner to protect Zagreus, the gods end up helping him out by sending down animals associated with them for the young god to tame for a run (I’ll come up with them later). They usually offer a selection to choose from, and from there Zagreus can build up a team and use it to try and escape the Underworld.

To replace weapons, I like to think he’d have “signature” animals that can help him out for any of his runs, specifically ones from Achilles, Poseidon, Zeus, Demeter (once he reaches the surface at least once), and eventually even Hades gives him one if they bond together enough ((yes, it’s Cerberus... kinda; it’s a puppy version of him, otherwise he’d be OP as fuck)). Zagreus’s signature animals can all be given names, and they keep certain skills that they pick up through enough experience battling in the Underworld for Zagreus.

As for story-line stuff, Zagreus ends up in a very fish out of water situation as he tries to get to know everyone in Hades’s house (he’s still our kindhearted Zag, after all, and he knows most of them aren’t to blame, not even really Than!) while also focusing on his goal to get home to his mom. Hades ends up being a lot nicer to him in this AU, perhaps overly so, as he’s trying to make his son like him more in order to make up for lost time (and fill the hole in his heart that Zag’s initial death as an infant and Persephone leaving with him created). It’s part of the reason he’s even letting Zagreus try to escape; he wants him to learn that it won’t work on his own terms (and maybe also scare the kid so bad that he comes running to him for comfort afterwards).

Also, I should really note that Zagreus is 100% a sweet country farm boy in this AU, and he has no idea what the fuck is going on with pretty much anything in the Underworld, much to everyone’s astonishment. For example:

Meg: Gods, it must be weird getting used to everything down here, huh? Sick of stepping in bat shit yet? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, and Dusa’s pretty good about cleaning it up to begin with. Zagreus: I mean, I guess? It’s not that different from chicken shit tbh. Meg: What the fuck is a chicken???

After that... yeah, I dunno. I’ll try playing Hades some more, see if I think up anything else that could be interesting, but for now, I hope at least someone ends up liking this dumb AU (if not, I’ll still like it... might even try my hand at drawing for it a bit tbh). Again, please check out the person who’s post/art I linked earlier in the post, ‘cus their art is really awesome and inspired me to include Demeter more in this AU!

[tigerseye46]

Some peachpigshiping with B6/13/58/60 and C30/41/60, please?

B6. “What if I told you that there’s a surprise for you outside?” B13. “I’m not the person you want in your life.” “Yes you are.” B58. “You look amazing.” B60. “I’ll continue doing this until you smile.” C30. “I love you, but I wish I didn’t.” C41. “Fuck you! Get out of my house!” C60. “Oh, now my opinion matters? I wish we had never met!”

I had fun with this one, here's some jealous Pigsy content!

Pigsy watches carefully as the two disguised monkeys interact with each other. Wukong says something snarky that the pig can barely catch, Macaque stutters and blushes then the king’s hand goes up to his mouth as he lets out a laugh. The scene makes Pigsy’s hand clench around the spoon he’s holding, tempted to throw it in between them.

Macaque has been around them for months, forced by MK and Wukong to join the group. At first the shadow monkey obviously loathed the idea at first, citing that being around the group was a fate worse than death, but he had gradually warmed up and repaired his relationship with Wukong.

Now the two monkeys were side by side most of the time, rarely did Pigsy see them alone together and he hated it with a burning passion.

He told Wukong that it was a bad idea to bring that monkey in and despite the fact that Macaque has changed, he still didn’t trust him. In fact, he wanted to murder that monkey when he had learned what he did to Xiaotian. That monkey could betray them at any moment! No way was he letting his guard down.

Although, he would be lying if the kid was the only reason he refused to trust Macaque. Wukong was his main reason. He had fallen hard for the king months before the other monkey had shown up.

They clashed for a long time, mostly due to Pigsy’s anger, before they were able to reach an understanding. He found things about the king that made his heart flutter, how beautiful poetic verses would slip out of his lips, how he was surprisingly thoughtful at times, his care for those around him, his determination and so many many things that showed why Wukong was so amazing, why he was so beloved.

But unlike most people, he saw Wukong, not just as a hero, but as a person.

He really likes the king and all he wants is the feelings to be returned.

The pig is brought back to reality when he hears more laughter, he lets out a sigh and furrows his brows.

Tang taps him on the arm. “Pigsy.”

He stares at the scholar. “What?” He hisses under his breath.

Tang giggles and comments, “If looks could kill, those two would be dead by now. Although, I’m sure Macaque is your intended target.”

“What are ya talkin’ about?”

The scholar places an elbow on the table, a hand underneath his chin as he gives a wide smirk. “That you like Wukong.”

He stomps his feet. “I do not! Shaddup, Tang.” He’s already told Tang about his feelings in private but no way is he letting Wukong overhear.

“You do,” Tang teases in a sing-songy voice.

“Quiet! They could hear!”

“Hear what?” Wukong questions as they walk up to them. Beside him, Macaque has his arms crossed, his chin puffs out and on his face is a smug smile. Pigsy growls, of course that six-eared bitch heard it.

“Nothin’,” he answers, sending the six-eared monkey a threatening look.

“Alright. When will the kid be back?” Oh, that’s right, the two had come here so they could get MK for training.

“A few minutes. The kid should be finishing his last order soon, if he doesn't get distracted, that is.” He chuckles then gestures to the seats next to Tang. “Sit down. I’ll make ya somethin’.”

“Okay.” The king’s smile makes his heart skip a beat. He turns around, not noticing the way the king gazes at with complete adoration and appreciation.

“Peaches,” Macaque starts, “remember that time we stole a whole bunch of candy and random items from that human village?”

Wukong snorts. “I remember. Didn’t one of those villagers throw a shoe at you?”

“And a barrel of hay!”

They laugh together which makes the pig fume. As he’s cooking, more stories and inside jokes are shared between them that he (and well, Tang) will never get. He wonders how many memories they’ve had with each other, he knows part of their history, how Macaque tried to replace Wukong to get him back for leaving, along with trying to replace his friends.

“You chose them over me?!” Macaque shouts with his teeth bared. “They’re pathetic!”

“Maybe so but they’re my friends! I won’t let you touch them!”

“You consider them your friends?” He gestures to four on the sidelines. They are a monk, horse, fish demon and a pig that has an aura that reminds him of his own. The group’s faces are a mix of panic and fear. “You’ve really downgraded, Peaches.”

“More like upgraded. Now, are we going to do this or not?”

The other monkey doesn’t answer him and instead wraps some shadows around himself, turning back into the perfect reflection of Wukong. They lunge at each other, confusing the others about who is who, the fight goes on, destroying rocks and creating cracks around their area.

At a certain point, one of them looks back at the group, concern and worry present in his eyes, and for a second, Pigsy can tell that’s the real Wukong. The scene feels so familiar, like he was there but that’s crazy, right?

He is brought back to reality when someone snaps their fingers, he turns and sees Tang with his fingers touching. “Uh, earth to Pigsy, you were kinda just standing there. You okay?”

“Hm? Yea, I’m fine.”

Wukong tilts his head and says, “Really? Because you haven’t even paid attention to your soup.”

“What?” The pot is almost whistling and the broth is bubbling way too much. “Oh shit,” he mumbles and lowers the heat. He finishes it quickly, pours it into two bowls, and adds the noodles. The smell wafts in the air. He passes it to the two monkeys. “Here.”

“Thanks, Pigsy,” Wukong says with a smile that shifts Pigsy’s cheeks to a tint of red.

“Yea, thanks Pigsy,” Macaque repeats with an eye roll. Pigsy ignores him.

They continue their stories while eating, Tang nods at certain points, laughing with them and commenting about different aspects. Pigsy enjoys getting to know more about the king but at the same time he’s boiling, like a volcano about to burst, it’s not a new feeling by any means. It’s probably the most familiar feeling out there for him, besides protectiveness, begrudging acceptance and masked contentment.

This whole thing is a reminder that he will never have this with Wukong. The king hardly notices him, sure, they talk and they understand each other now yet to the chef, he’s only a small presence, just acknowledged as the kid’s boss and not much else, barely a friend. He’s positive the king doesn’t give him much thought and that hurts the most, remembering that he’s considered one of the million unimportant people in Wukong’s immortal life. All he wants is to be part of Wukong’s world. A world that scarcely anyone is let into, somehow that includes Macaque, stupid monkey.

“Hey! I’m back,” MK greets as he walks into the shop and waves.

Wukong waves back. “Hey, bud. Ready to train?”

“Yep! Is that alright with you, Pigsy?”

The pig bobs his head. “Yea, go ahead, kid.”

“Thanks, boss!”

“Mhmm.”

Macaque ruffles the boy’s hair. “Can’t wait to kick your butt in training.”

“Bring it!”

Wukong rolls his eyes. “Try not to hurt each other too badly.”

“I’ll try, Peaches.” They both ruffle the kid’s hair again and Pigsy notices how they look like a happy family, he absolutely despises it so much so that his knuckles turn white.

He hates Macaque, if he gave the monkey a chance maybe he would like him but he doesn’t want to. The pig is clouded by jealousy. Wukong and Macaque’s closeness makes him sick to stomach. The king is sentimental, blind to the fact that the six-eared monkey will no doubt stab them in the back, maybe he needs another reminder.

He grumbles as Macaque leaves with the kid while Wukong lingers. Wukong spins around and takes something out of his pocket, money. He holds it out for Pigsy. “Huh?” Since when has the king paid before? Delivery orders aside.

“It’s for the noodles.”

“Ummm… ya don’t have to do that.” Maybe not having to pay for noodles will make Wukong happy, it’s a small gesture.

“Really? Aren’t you the one who complains when people don’t pay?”

Tang slams his bowl down with a thud and whines, “Yea! You always get mad at me for not paying.”

“That’s because you’re a freakin’ freeloader, Tang,” he snarls. “It’s on the house, Wukong.”

Wukong raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Are you sick or something?”

“No, just in a good mood.”

“Yea, I can tell by the bright smile on your face,” the king jokes.

The pig emits a small ‘tch’ noise. “Wow, you read me well.”

The monkey grins at that comment and leans over to hug him, he sucks in his breath. Tang sips his soup in the background, letting them have their moment. The hug is warm and gentle, the chef’s stomach does a light flutter, briefly he can pretend he matters to Wukong. He doesn’t notice when the other slips the money in his pocket, preferring to focus on the warmth and his imagination. For a moment, he can think I matter to him. He cares about me.

That is broken when Macaque peeks his head in and calls, “Peaches!”

Wukong separates from him, he holds in his disappointment, his fingers twitching to pull the king into another hug. He receives a playful wink. “See you!” The second monkey puts an arm around the king’s neck and leads him out.

Pigsy scowls and grips the inside of his pockets, when he feels something foreign, he takes it out, rolling his eyes fondly when he finds the yuán Wukong slipped in. He goes back to work, attempting to push down his anger and longing then receiving a small jab to his chest when he remembers again about how he doesn’t matter to the king.

Weeks pass by and the longing continues, growing stronger with each passing minute, each passing day, as it has been for a while. He dreams of finally having Wukong’s smile, yearning for the day the king will call him his, that they’ll get closer eventually, at least enough to finally matter to Wukong. It blinds him to Wukong’s loving gaze along with the small and soft touches.

Despite Pigsy's gruff nature, he is a pure softie underneath, he makes sure to give Tang an extra bowl of noodles if the scholar is having a hard day, never kicking him out of the shop. He takes it easy on Xiaotian, making sure the kid takes care of himself and so many other things. That same softness applies to when he’s in love.

One day, all of them decide to hang out together and unfortunately, that includes Macaque.

They’re walking together, Pigsy is in the back with his arms crossed while Tang, Sandy, Xiaojiao and Xiaotian are in the middle and a disguised Macaque and Wukong are in front, smiling and laughing. The pig is absolutely glowering at the pair, his eyes soften when Wukong turns back and shoots the group a small smile because no way is it directed solely at him. The monkey goes back to focusing on Macaque, the pig’s stomach twists and turns.

He balls his fists and lets out a low hiss. He watches as Macaque nudges the other monkey, whispering something, how the monkey’s cheeks shift to pink and a triumphant smirk appears on the six eared monkey’s face.

Pigsy decides at that moment to storm off, he can’t be there, he can’t watch as Macaque flirts with Wukong.

He misses it when Wukong glances back again with his brows raised.

Pigsy goes far away from the group, getting lost in the crowd of people. “Pigsy,” a familiar voice yells. He shakes it off and keeps walking. “Pigsy! Pigsy!”

He growls and spins to see Wukong running up to him. “What?”

The monkey stops in front of him. “You okay? You left without saying anything.”

“Fine,” he answers while his teeth grind together in anger. He stomps towards the direction of the shop with Wukong following.

“Really? You seem angrier than usual.”

“I’m fine,” he repeats.

“Uh huh. Someone’s grumpy.”

He huffs. “Not in the mood.” Go away.

A look of concern flashes across the king’s feature before going to a wide and charming grin. “You know I forgot to say this earlier but you look amazing,” he compliments and gestures to the blue flannel.

Pigsy’s pulse quickens and he suppresses the rosy red. “Thanks,” he mumbles, a frown still present.

“What? That didn’t make you happy? I’ll continue doing this until you smile.”

“What? Botherin’ me?”

“Exactly. Now come on. Let’s go back to the others, it might cheer you up.”

He grips the pig’s hand, Pigsy gasps and yanks it away. “Don’t touch me,” he hisses.

The king’s palm remains in the air, his mouth agape, he shakes it off. “Sorry. So where do you want to go? We can go anywhere you want.”

“I’m goin’ back to the shop by myself.”

“Sounds boring. Hang out with me, just the two of us.”

Just the two of them? No, he’s not going to stay. “I… I’m good.”

The king seems almost disappointed but why would he be? “Come on! It will be fun! We can spend some quality time together!”

He opens his mouth to reject Wukong again when a “Peaches” rings in the air. Macaque is a good distance away from them.

Wukong gives him a small wave and a gesture to stay where he is. The pig scoffs. “You should go to him. After all, I know how much he matters to you,” his voice drips with venom.

“Huh? Of course, he matters to me, you all matter to me.”

“Yea, right.”

Wukong lifts a brow. “Pigsy, what’s wrong? You can tell me anything.”

“Why do ya care?”

“Because you matter to me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Huh? You do. Is something wrong? I can make it better. I promise.”

He reaches for the pig again and the pig growls, “I said, don’t touch me!”

The king swallows roughly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you hated being touched. I’ll try not to do it again.”

Pigsy fumes, “Oh, now my opinion matters? I wish we had never met!” The last part slips past his mouth and he bites his lip.

The monkey’s ears droop. “Wh-what? Did I do something to upset you?”

No turning back now. “Yes!”

“What did I do?”

“Everythin’! Like makin’ my kid your successor and puttin’ him in danger!”

“Huh? I thought we were over that.”

“I thought we were too and it’s not just that. It’s every little bit of the things you’ve done. It’s how you laugh, your smile, your humor, every bit about you, includin’…” He clutches his chest. “Includin’ the way you make me feel. Bein’ around you makes me feel happier than I’ve ever been but at the same time it hurts. Knowin’ that ya don’t feel the same and never will. That there are a million other people you’d let into your world before me. That I’m so unimportant to you. That you look at Macaque more than you do me… that’s part of the reason I didn’t want him around because I knew you would rather be with him and I couldn’t bear it. Because… I love you but I wish I didn’t.

Something tightens in his gut at finally admitting this. He wrings his hands, focusing only on Wukong’s slacked jaw and widened eyes, not seeing the looks from people passing by them or Macaque’s smirk and crossed arms, head tilted in amusement.

Wukong is still like a statue and Pigsy feels like sinking into the ground where the king will never be able to find him. “Aren’t you goin’ to say anythin’?”

The king opens his mouth slowly. “Pigsy, I…” then he closes it.

Pigsy scoffs and lets out a laugh. “Gods, I knew it. I knew it would be this way.”

“No! Pigsy, I…”

“Don’t worry about it, Wukong. I already know your answer. Just confirms what I knew.”

“No! I-”

“It’s okay. I’ll… see you.” He rushes off, tears of frustration prick his eyes. When he gets back to his shop, he leans his head against the counter and sits there for ages.

Wukong doesn’t come to the shop for a few days and Pigsy’s mood sours significantly. He snaps more than usual and despite the others’ best attempts, he doesn’t open up to them, won’t smile.

He was aware of how Wukong would react, doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Pigsy is in his apartment when he hears knocking on the door. He growls and rubs his eyes. Who could be knocking at this time of night?

“Alright. I’m comin’. Hold your horses.” He opens it to reveal Macaque. He hisses, “Get out!”

“Nice to see you too and nice pajamas.” He snorts then pushes past Pigsy, he observes the place. “Interesting decor. We need to talk.”

He narrows his eyes and slams the door shut. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You don’t have much of a choice. Peaches is upset.”

“So? Shouldn’t you be with him then?”

“No. I should be with you. To tell you how stupid you are.”

Pigsy balls a hand into a fist. “Screw you!”

Macaque puts his hands up in defense. “Calm down. I meant no disrespect, well yes I did but that’s besides the point. You couldn’t have waited for Peaches to answer you?”

“I already knew his answer.”

“No, you didn’t. Peaches is an idiot. He wanted to answer but didn’t know how to start. Now he’s moping. It’s pathetic honestly. He misses you.”

“Why should he?”

“Because he likes you, idiot.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does. Look I don’t get what you and Peaches think I have.”

“A relationship obviously. You like him, he likes you.” Macaque roars with laughter. “Why are ya laughin’?”

“You- you think Peaches and I are together? Oh my gods. You really are an idiot. No wonder Peaches likes you!”

He stomps his feet and points towards the entrance. “Fuck you! Get out of my house!”

Macaque cackles and wipes a tear. “Hear me out first. Look, I know you don’t like me but what I’m saying is the truth. Peaches likes you, gushes about you all the time. He and I are just friends. All we’ll ever be. But you, he loves you.”

He rolls his eyes and yells, “Sorry if I don’t believe the monkey who clearly has a habit of lying!”

“That was before. I’ve changed, I promise. And I’m trying to pay back Peaches’s kindness. He loves you a lot. I don’t think I’ve seen him happier.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not. What if I told you that there’s a surprise for you outside?”

“A surprise?”

The six-eared monkey swings the door open to reveal Wukong on the other side, his tail and ears are droopy and his gaze cast down on the ground. “Peaches!”

Wukong perks up, his golden orbs sparkle when he fixates on the chef. He lunges forward to wrap the pig in a bone crushing hug. “Pigsy!” His tail thumps to the ground.

Pigsy’s face flushes and he rests a hand on the king’s back. “Wukong…”

The king steps back and rubs the back of his neck, Pigsy holds back a whine at the loss of warmth. “Sorry! You said not to touch you.”

Macaque watches them then shrugs his shoulders. “Alright. Have fun. I’ll be off.” He walks away, leaving them to their own devices.

They exchange glances. Wukong starts with “Pigsy, I missed you.”

The king missed him? “I… ummm…”

“Can we sit down?”

“Huh? Oh! Uh. Sure.” They sit down on the couch. “Wukong. I…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. Did I really make you feel that way? That I didn’t care about you?”

“Well… ummm… Wukong. It’s not that you didn’t make me feel that way. It’s just I thought ya didn’t. It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly. Why did you feel that way?”

“Well, look at me. I’m not you. I didn’t go on a journey, become a hero. I’m just some angry pig demon that runs a noodle shop. I don’t have any amazin’ powers. I’m nothin’ special. I’m not the person you want in your life.”

“Bite your tongue! Yes you are. I don’t care what powers you have. You’re amazing just as you are and you are a hero. I hear what you’ve done for the kid and the others… and you’re great. Really. You mean a lot to me.”

“I do?”

“Yea. I think of you a lot. Too much if you ask me. Despite your grumpiness, you have a great heart and… you aren’t afraid to tell me when I’m wrong and stuff. And I like you a lot. When you mentioned that there are people I would let into my world before you, that’s so untrue. You are one of the people I let see the real me.”

“Wukong…”

“I love you, Pigsy. I really do. I’m sorry I didn’t say it back before. I was surprised. I didn’t think you felt the same way. I tried to show I was interested. Did you never notice the way I looked at you?”

Pigsy blinks slowly, recalling everytime Wukong has ever looked at him, it’s more than he thought, there was always something unrecognizable in the king’s eyes and now notes it as pure love. “No, I didn’t.” He smacks his forehead. “I’m… I’m an idiot.”

Wukong laughs, his laughter sounds sweet. “Yea, you are, my dear idiot.” Pigsy flushes slightly at the affectionate tone that comes with the nickname. “But I am too.”

“I’m sorry I got jealous and snapped at you.”

“Pigsy, it’s okay. Your jealousy was kinda cute, hot even,” he adds with a wink.

“Sh-shush. Gods, I feel stupid now.”

“Oh, you should.” He receives a smack to his arm and he laughs again. “After you confessed, I was thinking a lot. I wanted to give you space but I got sad at the thought of you never wanting to see me again since I never responded. I’ve been wanting to confess for a while and I bought you this.” He pulls out a box and unlocks it to reveal a round golden bracelet with two gems.

Pigsy is amazed at the object. “Wow. This is gorgeous. Is this a courtship bracelet?”

“Yep. If you want it that is.”

“I do, it’s absolutely gorgeous but are ya sure you want to give this to me?”

“There is no one else I would rather give it to. May I?” The pig bobs his head, the monkey slides the bracelet onto his wrist and holds his hand. “Beautiful. It looks wonderful on you.”

“Tha-thanks. I love it.”

Wukong kisses his head. “I’m glad.”

“Ummm… Wukong, you kinda missed.”

“Oh?”

Pigsy cups his cheek. “Yep.” He kisses him on the lips, he can taste the peaches that no doubt has resided on the king’s mouth.

“Mmmmmm.”

They separate and lovingly stare at each other. “I’m sorry again.”

“Don’t be. I love you.”

“I love you too. Y’know maybe I’ve actually started likin’ Macaque after all.”

Wukong chuckles. “He’ll be glad to hear it especially now that I’m not “moping” as he puts it.”

“I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Wukong mimics and smooches him for a second time, his tail swishes from side to side. “You mean the world to me.”

“You do too.”

They kiss a few more times and as Pigsy leans against Wukong’s chest, it fills him with unspeakable joy to recognize how much he matters to the king, his boyfriend.

[ga-yuu]

~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 22~

Warning!! The story has a lot of violence and blood.

Chapter 21

*

*

*

---------Part 1---------

Kurama: "Stop! Ibuki-----" 

 Yoshino: "......!!" 

 Kurama pushes me and I fall to the ground. The next moment, I felt a splash of blood on my face.

 I realized it was Kurama's blood. 

 Yoshino: "Kurama...what..." 

 Kurama: "Nn.....Didn't I order you not to get scratched by other men?"

(No! Don’t lie to me anymore...I hate it...)

Ibuki: “That’s a great result. I knew my instincts were good. I’m glad I gave you Yoshino.”

Kurama: “.......”

A ragged breath escapes from Kurama’s clenched lips, and a gust of wind with the smell of death rolls in.

Ibuki: “Well, that’s quite an injury you got there.”

The lightning flashes from across the wind dazzle the eye.

(Lend me the power of the nine-tail fox----)

Ibuki: “I like you. I like people who don’t give up, who struggle in vain.”

The greatsword split the wind and closed in on me as I tried to drown out the alien power.

(Almost there----)

Kurama: “Don’t touch what’s mine.”

Kurama hugs me tightly as he covers me.

Yoshino: “Kurama!”

Kurama: “...don’t...make a fuss...”

Black wings fluttered from his back as he took the brunt of Ibuki’s attack.

His limbs began to weaken and he barely managed to hold on.

(Why are you defending me to such an extent?)

Ibuki: “.....Nnn...”

Ibuki, whose shoulder was ripped open by the tornado, stepped back holding his wound.

(But it’s only a matter of time before he’ll kill us...)

Kurama: “Yoshino, you have to run away!”

Yoshino: “But.”

Kurama: “Hurry up! You have to...”

(I don’t like it.)

Ibuki: “If you, who have trampled on the weak, should be defeated by the stronger, that would be just providence. It was fun, Kurama. You’re good as dead now.”

Yoshino: “Stop!”

Kurama: “!!”

I thrust my palms forward, feeling the lightning and roar with my body.

(Nn...hot....)

Yoshino; “Nnn....nn...”

The unquenchable heat burned my skin and the pain was so intense that I cried.

Kurama: “Idiot....why are you....doing this....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. My body moved on it’s own...

2. I won’t leave Kurama...

3. I told you, I wanna fight together...(+4/+4)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoshino: “No....I told you..already...I’ll fight together with you...”

Kurama: “Tch...No. I will not allow you to put yourself in danger anymore.”

I tried staying on my two feet, but I was too weak....

Ibuki: “It’s a beautiful feeling. Unfortunately, it won’t work against me.”

Ibuki walks up to me through the sand and looks down at me in amusement.

(No....)

I tried my best to resist being picked up by him.

Yoshino: “Nn....”

The palm of his hand pressed lightly against my back, and I became numb. I felt my body slowly losing its power.

Ibuki: “I don’t mind you struggling. But I’m tired and you’re too.”

Kurama: “Let go---Yoshino!”

--------Part 2---------

Kurama: “Let go---Yoshino!”

Kurama crawls towards me on Ibuki’s shoulders and reaches out for my hand.

Ibuki: “Sorry. I gave her as a toy once, but now, I’m taking her away. I wish I could have played with you longer, but now it’s time to say goodbye, Kurama.”

Kurama: “Ibuki!”

Ibuki: “....Hahaha. I love to watch you dying with that cute face .” (For this, I can’t deny. Because when Kurama glares, it looks incredibly cute.)

As Ibuki said, the light in Kurama’s red eyes is not spoiled even at times like this.

It was glittering and glowing with rage.

Yoshino: “No! Stop---!”

Just as Ibuki raises his great sword-------

???: “How dare you make my Yoshino cry, Shuten Doji.”

Ibuki: “...!”

(This voice-----)

Suddenly, we're surrounded by blue flames and Ibuki turns around.

Ibuki: “-----Foxfires.”

Tamamo: “Correct.”

Yoshino: “Tamamo!”

Kurama: “...why are...you....”

I looked at him in amazement at how much I had missed him.

(Did you come to help...?)

Tamamo walks up to us, his beautiful silver hair fluttering.

Tamamo: “Release Yoshino, right now.”

Ibuki: “No can do, Nine-tail fox.”

With an uncanny calmness, Ibuki distances himself from Tamamo.

Ibuki: “It would be churlish to spoil the fun.”

Tamamo: “According to my aesthetics, no amount of bad taste play can disturb me. I was the first to arrive on the scene when I heard of the raid on the Imperial Court.....Following the trail of the magic, I didn’t expect this.”

Ibuki: “Oh dear, I stayed back for too long. But, how are you going to attack me when I have this woman in my arms?”

Tamamo: “Hmm...what should I do?”

He smiled and nodded his head.

Tamamo: “Let’s just make sure we don’t hit Yoshino, I guess.”

With the words, small foxfires emerge around Ibuki.

(When did you...!)

Ibuki: “Heh, you are really careful, aren’t you?”

Ibuki’s great sword swept away the blue flames that were coming at us all at once.

Ibuki: “.....!”

One of the fox fires scorches Ibuki from the front.

Ibuki: “The rest of them were illusions, huh----I hate you already.”

(Amazing! Such a skill on a spur of the moment----)

Tamamo: “Sorry, I’m so good at concocting spells, aren’t I?”

He snapped his fingers and said in a droll tone.

Then the foxfire floated in the air again......

Ibuki: “You’re blowing, you little fox. You’ll never bring me to my knees with your petty attacks.”

Tamamo: “I suppose so. Trouble is, my power is far from recovered.”

--------Part 3-------

Tamamo: “I suppose so. Trouble is, my power is far from recovered. But....”

He snapped his fingers once more, and all at once, the foxfires exploded.

Tamamo shouts to drown out the sound.

Tamamo: “You’re not the kind of lad who sleeps around here, are you? Kurama!”

Kurama: “You don’t have to tell me that!”

(Kurama....)

The wind whipped up with a roar.

Ibuki: “....You’re a dead man, you know that?”

Cut and bleeding by a blade of wind, Ibuki still smiles thinly.

Tamamo: “Are you ready to give up and give Yoshino to us?”

Ibuki: “No way. We’ll just play our trump card. Don’t just stand there and watch. Give me a hand, Yasuchika!”

(Eh!?)

Kurama and Tamamo: “.......”

In a breathless moment, the space in the shadow of the grove to which Ibuki’s gaze was directed, was distorted.

Yasuchika: “......I hope you don’t try to use it as a convenience.”

Yoshino: “Yasuchika..san...!?”

Yasuchika-san emerged from the distortion.

He had a cold face, unlike the aloofness I know him to be.

Tamamo: “I knew you would come, Yasuchika.”

Kurama: “.....”

The foxfire and the blade of the wind flew towards Yasuchika at the same time.

Yoshino: “Nn....”

The purple light spreads like a net to prevent the foxfire and the wind blade.

I found him holding a piece of paper with an intricate pattern on it at his fingertips.

(Is that...a talisman?)

Yasuchika: “Hi, Tamamo-chin and Kura-rin. Also, fox princess, how are you doing?”

Though he’s smiling, I can’t read his mind at all.

(It’s not like the fear of Kurama or Ibuki. I don’t know what to say.)

Ibuki: “Brilliant, Yasuchika.”

Yasuchika: “In Onmyoji arts, unlike the powers of demons, there is a price to pay for great skill. Ibuki. You know this very well, but you’re playing on the assumption that I’ll clean up after you.”

Ibuki: “I’m doing it for ‘him.”

Yasuchika: “I hate you, because you know I’ll shut up when you say his name....Now, let's go.”

In the next moment, the purple net changes shape like smoke.

Tamamo: “Tch...smokescreen.”

Kurama: “Wait! Give her back to me! She’s mine----”

Kurama tried to run at us from behind a thick smokescreen, but an invisible wall blocked his way.

Yoshino: “Ku..rama...”

(I wish I could be near you right now.)

I want to hold your bleeding body and tell you not to be reckless, but I can’t do that now.

Soon purple smoke blocked the view....

Ibuki: “Sleep for now.”

Ibuki’s voice rumbled inside my head and my consciousness crashed into darkness.

......................

By the time the purple smoke had cleared, Ibuki, Yasuchika, and Yoshino were already gone.

Kurama: “.............”

Tamamo: “Where are you going, Kurama?”

--------Part 4------

Tamamo: “Where are you going, Kurama?”

Kurama stands up, bleeding, and Tamamo stands in front of him.

Kurama: “I’ll follow them. I’ll follow the traces of his magic....”

Tamamo: “I’m sure Yasuchika will be well prepared. And with your body, Ibuki will finish you off....or will you risk your life and stab each other in the back?”

Kurama: “It’s better than being humiliated.”

Tamamo quietly met his gaze, which was filled with icy anger.

Tamamo: “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to endure----but, Yoshino would be destroyed if she knew you died for her.”

Kurama clicked his tongue hearing Tamamo’s words.

....................

(Mmm......)

The shock to the body wakes me up.

Ibuki: “You’re up. Just in time.”

(Ibuki! Where are we-----)

I jumped up in a panic and found that I had been lowered to the ground inside a tent.

Yasuchika: “Sorry to wake you up from your sleep, so early but I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

Yoshino: “...?”

Still, with a confused mind, I turn to the direction indicated by Yasuchika-san.

???: “We finally meet, fox princess.” (AHHHHHH MY HEART!!!!!)

(Who is this man?)

In a graceful robe and a mysterious tone.

His quiet beautiful eyes seem to draw me in as I look at him.

Yoshino: “Who are you....?”

When I ask him, he gives me a soft, languid smile.

???: “A lot of people call me Sutokuin or Your Majesty. I don’t really like it, it’s too ostentatious.”

( ‘Sutokuin’....you mean the Emperor who gave up his throne. right?”

Yoshino: “Don’t joke about it! No member of the Imperial family would be here.”

???: “That’s right too. So, will you call me Akihito?”

Yoshino: “Akihito-san?”

Akihito: “Mm. I like it. Hearing ‘san’ next to my name feels fresh. But if you want, you can call me like how you call Ibuki.”

Yasuchika: “.....Akihito-sama. We don’t have time to play games.”

(Onmyoji is supposed to be a high-status profession, isn’t it? I can’t believe that Yasuchika-san calls him “sama”)

As I looked at them in surprise, Yasuchika-san turned to me.

Yasuchika: “Yoshino-san. It’s understandable that you don’t believe us, but.....Akihito-sama is the former Emperor of Hinomoto(Japan)”

(No way...)

Still, in doubt, a new question arises.

Yoshino: “You mean...”

Akihito: “I'll be straightforward. In the eyes of the world, I should have been dead by now.”

-------Part 5--------

Akihito: “ “I'll be straightforward. In the eyes of the world, I should have been dead by now. It’s kind of like the same situation as Yoshitsune.”

Ibuki: “I think your situation is somewhat more complicated than his.”

(It’s too far-fetched to be a lie to make any sense. Then...?)

Yoshino: “Wait, if that’s true....and aside from Yasuchika-san, there is one more person responsible for all this chaos------”

I was surprised.

Yoshino: “Does that mean, the one who made a deal with Ibuki-----is you?”

Akihito: “You’re clever.”

Ibuki: “Isn’t it ironic. A man with the noblest blood in the land of Japan is bound to a demon.” (Ironic and badass!!)

Yasuchika: “It’s not the worst mistake. As for me, I’d kill that demon any day.”

Yasuchika-san replied to Ibuki with a smile.

(Ibuki made a deal with the former emperor...so he got some of his powers as well?)

Yoshino: “Then Akihito-sama....what is your purpose?”

Akihito: “Akihito-sama’...well, there’s nothing that can be done about that now.”

Akihito-sama murmured, unfortunately.

Akihito: “I’m not averse to straightforward questions. I’ve got a grudge against the whole Hinomoto. So I’m going to curse and destroy all of them.”

His voice is so soothing that I’m willing to listen to it forever.

The softness of his speech made it all the more strikingly different.

Yoshino: “....Are you serious?”

Akihito: “Nope. I lied.”

The smile on his face is both deceptive and sorrowful.

(What kind of life do you have to live to make you laugh like this?)

Ibuki: “Don’t scare her, Akihito.”

Akihito: “I didn’t mean to.”

Yasuchika: “Now that the introduction is over, let’s get to the main subject.”

Softly, Yasuchika-san interrupts us.

Yasuchika: “Have the Shogunate and the Rebels reached the battlefield?”

Akihito: “Yes. The advance team is arriving on both sides. I’ve just had private soldiers attack each end of the line and pass on the information. The Shogunate was defrauded by the Rebels, and the Rebels by the Shogunate, who broke their promise to hand over the prisoners.”

(That’s...!)

Yoshino: “Yoritomo-sama and Yoshitsune-sama will be sure of the truth.”

Akihito: “The main body will arrive a little later. Will they be able to control it all the way to the end? All we need is to make a small edge of a big crowd suspicious.”

Ibuki: “If one of us gets carried away and starts a fight, it can quickly spread to the whole of them and cause a huge fire. Because humans are cute but stupid creatures.”

Then Akihito-san turns to me.

Akihito: “What is your name again?”

Yoshino: “....Yoshino.”

Akihito: “Yoshino. I’ll remember you.”

Then Akihito-sama lowered his eyelashes as if he was slightly troubled.

Akihito: “I want to apologize to you. You can hate me all you want. One more curse on me now won’t make much difference.”

(What are you going to me....?)

Chapter 23

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Another One?!, Part 3

First > Previous > Next

Marinette took one long, deep breath.

“What the fuck, Adrien?”

Adrien gave an awkward smile that made her want to forgive him… but, no, she must stay strong.

“It’s a cool car!”

She clicked her tongue. “Yes. Yes it is. But none of us can drive.”

“We have to learn at some point, though. Dick is going to uni soon, and it’s not like we can homeschool him for that. And there is no way I’m going to let him take the bus.”

Marinette winced. Okay, fair point.

Adrien must have realized that he was convincing her, because he chose that moment to bring out the pout.

Kwami…

She clicked her tongue once to show she was still irritated but nodded that he could have it.

He grinned and turned to look over his shoulder. “Told you I could convince her.”

Dick popped out of the bushes with a whoop.

Betrayal.

~

“WHY THE HECK DID I GET THE FAST CAR --?!”

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU ASKING ME --?!”

“STOP YELLING AT EACH OTHER AND WATCH THE ROAD --!”

“PULL OVER IT’S MY TURN TO LEARN TO DRIVE --!”

“WE’RE GONNA DIE WE’RE GONNA DIE WE’RE GONNA DIE --!”

~

Marinette glared at the three new driver’s licenses they had all somehow scammed their way into getting, then turned her gaze on Dick.

“I love you but if you flunk out first semester I will stab you.”

He smiled and wrapped his mom in a hug. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Bitch, try me.”

Dick wasn’t fazed, squeezing her tighter.

She huffed and reluctantly hugged back. “Okay, fine, maybe not, but I will not be happy.”

“I love youuuuuu.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

~

Adrien sighed as he looked at his kid’s grades so far. He’d been scared of this. College was a lot of adjustments already, and to add to that he was going straight from homeschool to normal classes and the school wasn’t giving him nearly as much help as it should.

Dick was stealing anxious looks at him out of the corner of his eyes, his legs drawn  to his chest on the couch.

Adrien reached out and ruffled his hair gently. “It’s fine. We’ll get you a tutor, okay?”

He didn’t suggest changing majors. Dick wouldn’t do it if he did, though he wished he would. It’s law school. Everyone knows that you can’t have a life and still go to law school, jobs and stuff are supposed to be put on hold when you go and there was no way Dick was going to stop vigilantism anytime soon. But…

“Also, try playing a game on your computer or doodling while you’re listening to the lecture. That might help you stay focused.”

Dick nodded with a tired smile.

“And you’re going to have to cut down on vigilantism so you can do homework and go to classes. You don’t get to choose your own schedule anymore.”

“Nooooooo…”

~

Marinette yawned, rubbing her eyes. It had been a long day for her. She’d done patrols for a good fourteen hours, and then Nygma had decided to use that exact moment to pull a death trap out of nowhere.

So, when she’d finally finished everything for the day she was tired and soaking wet (because, for some reason, he thought it would be cool to see if she preferred death by electrocution or drowning). She’d called for her husband to come get her because it was winter and she wasn’t all that interested in walking through the snow in damp clothes.

Now she curled up in the car, getting the front seat and both her and Adrien’s jackets wet. She didn’t care as she pressed as close to the heater as she possibly could.

Adrien brought the car to a stop and looked over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you want to wait in the car while I get him?”

She nodded, closing her eyes.

She felt a set of keys drop in her lap and pressed the lock button, sinking into the chair.

And then, a few minutes later, she heard something outside.

She peeked an eye open blearily and looked around, expecting to see Adrien and Dick drumming their fingers on the windows to be let in. A frown made its way across her face when she realized that they weren’t there.

She sat back up slowly and her eyes landed on a flash of red on the side opposite her.

She unlocked her door and poked her head out, carefully making her way around the car to investigate…

A person was trying to steal their hubcap.

She groaned softly and rubbed her eyes, then got into a fighting position.

The person looked up at the sound and she winced mentally when she saw they had a crowbar.

They shot to their feet and raised the weapon.

“Marinette?” Called Adrien.

She looked up on instinct, a bad idea when you’re fighting someone.

She took a crowbar to the stomach and groaned, doubling over. They leaned down to grab the hubcap and then attempted to make a break for it.

It didn’t work, obviously. Dick caught the person by their hoodie when they tried to rush past him.

They twisted in his grip and hit Dick in the side with their hubcap and, when he stumbled a bit in surprise, swept his legs out from under him.

Adrien scowled as he tackled the person to the ground. Then he stopped suddenly, his eyes going wide. “This is --!”

He never got to say what the person was, though, because they had socked him. The person had been wearing a lot of rings, so that hurt even more than it usually would. It was a wonder that Adrien didn’t black out or, at the very least, fall back to cradle his jaw.

The person must have been counting on this because they cursed and reached out to shove Adrien off of themself, but he caught their arms.

With a bit of awkward shuffling he had managed to pin them to the ground, arms tucked beneath him and legs swinging wildly in an attempt to keep Dick and Marinette back.

He needn’t have worried, both of them were pretty incapacitated. Getting hit with a metal instrument tends to do that to people.

Dick recovered first because his blow had been softer and to a less vulnerable part, and he crawled over to Marinette… who was currently listing off every swear that she could think of from her spot on the ground.

They leaned against each other for support and then lifted their shirts a little bit to check for blood. Thankfully, the things the person had used were blunt, so they would only have to worry about bruising...

Still hurt, though.

“— fucking asshole of a person I will fucking stab their cul stupide —!”

“Mari, stop cursing, it’s a kid,” hissed Adrien, who was now covering the kid in question’s ears.

“Oh really? Let’s see you get hit by a goddamn whatever-the-fuck-that’s-called --!”

The kid, who could apparently still hear despite her husband’s best efforts, supplied the name of the object he’d used: “Crowbar.”

“Oh, you absolute --!”

Dick covered her mouth so she could curse without the kid hearing it too clearly.

Eventually, she ran out of curses. Her shoulders slumped.

Adrien and Dick nodded to each other and removed their hands.

Adrien carefully clambered off the kid, though he made sure to hold onto their hands to make sure they wouldn’t a) attack again or b) just run off.

They looked him over and Marinette cringed. Definitely a street kid, if the ragged clothes and bruised skin was any indication.

“It wasn’t personal,” the kid said, looking between the three of them anxiously. He must have realized he wasn’t getting away, because he had stopped subtly struggling against Adrien’s grip. “I just needed money.”

Marinette nodded. “Sure. What foster or adoption system are you in? We can up donations.”

(She was still annoyed about the whole ‘hitting her with a crowbar’ thing, obviously, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to help out a bunch of kids in need.)

The kid’s eyes widened and then he gave a bitter laugh. “I’m not really in one, it’s safer on the streets.”

Adrien frowned. “Sorry? Why? Don’t you want a roof and food?”

They rolled their eyes. “Sure, I’d love that, but it doesn’t exactly happen.”

The three frowned at each other.

Adrien thought for a minute, then shrugged. “How about you stay with us?”

“Huh?” Said both Marinette and the kid.

“We have room and money, and Dick is probably going to leave soon anyways because of college. Why not stay with us?”

Dick hesitated. “I’m probably not leaving, actually, but you can stay if you want.”

Marinette and the kid looked met each other’s eyes and deemed themselves the only sane ones present, because honestly what the fuck?

But then the kid’s eyes strayed to the pearl necklace Adrien had gotten her the year before, to the car, to the designer bag Dick was carrying…

“I wouldn’t mind. What about you, mom?” He said, giving Marinette a cheeky grin.

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t get puppy-dog-eyed from all sides.

Could Adrien, just once, ask her before randomly adopting kids?

Well, she guessed she should just be glad he didn’t try and adopt the entire foster system. She should probably say yes before he actually tried...

“Fine. Fine. We’ll adopt another one.” She pursed her lips together and then gave her husband a pointed look. “No more after this, though, got it? We’re too old for this stuff.”

“We’re not that old!” Complained Adrien.

She clicked her tongue.

“Fine. I’m not that old.”

Marinette scoffed and threw the keys at him. He caught them without even blinking.

Dick smiled and opened the car door for the kid, who seemed more than a little hesitant to get in the car with strangers. Apparently curiosity won over self-preservation, though, because the kid did end up getting in the car.

“Right, what’s your name?”

“Jason…”

“Cool! I’m Dick, and these are my adoptive parents, Marinette and Adrien.”

“... is no one going to talk about why your mom is soaking wet?”

“Why our mom is soaking wet, you mean.”

Jason frowned. “Sure… why?”

“She fell in a well.”

Adrien nodded as he started to drive. Marinette groaned and sunk into the front seat again.

Jason, poor kid, just looked confused.

“How the fuck…?”

~

Adrien was well aware that Jason didn’t trust them.

Fair enough. How many other people see a random kid stealing their hubcaps and then say ‘yeah, screw it, I’ll adopt them’? He figured they must be the only ones.

The kid seemed genuinely surprised when they pulled up to their house. Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted to know where Jason thought they were taking him.

Marinette had taken a quick shower, changed into some warm clothes, grabbed a cup of coffee, and then took Jason out shopping. Dick rearranged his room to accommodate another person.

And Adrien…

Adrien glared down the kwamis.

“Alrighty. We made the mistake last time of not telling you not to show yourselves to Dick, because we thought that was implied. We’re not doing that again. You are not allowed to in any way help Jason find out that you exist or that we are Chat Noir, Ladybug, and Robin. Got it?”

He made sure to see every kwami nod that they understood and then gave them some leftover macaroons to eat.

Good. So that disaster would be averted.

He heard a loud “Oh! My word!” from the next room and sighed.

New disaster.

He ushered the kwamis back under the floorboards and then rushed over to Dick’s room.

He walked in to find him frantically scraping a part of the wall that had been previously hidden by his bed.

Adrien crossed his arms. “Hey, buddy, whatcha got there?”

Dick turned around slowly, eyes wide and full of panic. “Uh…” He leaned back as casually as he could (it did not look like a comfortable position at all but that’s not the point here) and flashed a brilliant smile. “Adrien… Dad… Dadrien... have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Not nearly enough. What did you do?”

“I…” He looked away. “... should probably get ahead of this. Don’t get mad, please?”

“We’ll see.”

Dick slowly scooted away from the spot and Adrien sighed deeply.

Because on the wall, in crayon, was a bunch of doodles.

But, upon closer inspection, he realized they were doodles of Chat Noir and Ladybug and a tiny little person with black hair.

Do not think it’s cute do not think it’s cute do not think it’s cute --.

He took a few deep breaths before turning to Dick. “Go get some cleaning stuff. We have a few hours before Mari gets back.”

He mumbled a thanks and then rushed out to go find cleaning supplies.

Adrien snapped a photo while he was gone.

~

Marinette and Jason were struggling.

It was hard to get this kid to buy anything at all, she had tried to get him just another hoodie and he had taken one look at the price tag before flinging it as far away from him as he possibly could.

Man, how was she supposed to get him a mattress if this was how he was going to react to a bunch of ten dollar hoodies?

She would have thrown her hands up in frustration if that wouldn’t have disturbed her coffee. “Fine. We won’t buy anything. Do you have anything we can bring?”

Jason hesitated, then shook his head.

Okay, an obvious lie but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. He was probably still wary of them and their kindness and wanted to keep that backup open. She understood.

Well, she didn’t understand because she’d never been in that kind of situation, but she would respect it.

“Fine. You’ll have to live with hand-me-downs. Are you alright with that?”

Jason relaxed a little, nodding.

She gave a tired smile.

She’d have to do something about Dick’s sleeping arrangements, she’d probably create a hammock or just let him sleep in their bed (it hardly ever got any use, anyways) for the time being. Eventually, Jason might warm up to them enough to let her buy him stuff, and she’d wait for that…

Or he’d run away. But, hopefully not that.

Jason ducked his head and pulled his hoodie up to hide his face and Marinette glanced around. People were staring at them. Fair enough, she doubted that the scruffy hoodie and weathered jeans were making people trust the kid. Still, she stepped towards him and gently grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie to say he was hers.

He cringed almost imperceptibly at her touch. She frowned a little bit, she knew all too well what that meant, but didn’t say anything.

She opted to just glare at the people giving them odd looks, daring any of them to say anything.

They didn’t. Good.

She looked down at the kid and tipped her head to the side.

“I’m going to just shop for the family and you can eat that stuff, okay?”

Jason still looked like he wasn’t happy with it but he nodded.

And, so, she took him to the grocery part of the store. She did what she said she would, shopping for things they would need over the week, but she also watched Jason carefully to see if he liked anything.

The kid clearly knew what she was doing, because he spent most of his time watching her with a neutral expression, but occasionally she’d catch his gaze lingering on a specific product for just a second too long and she’d drop it into the cart.

He couldn’t say anything. He had no proof that they never ate… whatever the hell a Chef Boyardee was.

She found he was mostly looking at cheap, instant meals but that was okay. He’d learn.

She was a baker’s daughter, after all. Everyone in her house would learn what good food was eventually or die by her hand.

~

Adrien fell back on the couch and groaned. “I have to homeschool another kid!”

“Sucks,” said Dick, who was applying a princess bandaid to a shallow cut on his cheek that he’d gotten that night (the goon who had missed had been pissed that their aim was off... but then pissed themself when the two older vigilantes advancing on him made him realize he had bigger problems).

“It does! I get one kid into college and then I suddenly get another kid to teach!”

Marinette sat on his stomach and he wheezed a little. She didn’t pay this any mind, though. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you adopted another one.”

“He said he felt safer on the streets than in a home! I couldn’t just not adopt him!”

She gave a noncommittal hum.

“Dick! Agree with me!”

The person in question just turned on the TV and started flipping through channels.

Adrien sighed. He was now talking to what may as well have been an empty room. He looked around for the kwamis but they were very determinedly avoiding eye contact while chowing down on their foods of choice. Still, he at least had one person-god-whatever that had to listen to him:

“Plagg.”

The cat kwami gave a long sigh before looking at him. “Adrien, please don’t make me give you my opinion on this. You’re not going to like it.”

He pouted. “Honestly, though, it’s messed up. Is the system really that bad?”

“Yep,” said Marinette.

“Mhmm,” said Dick.

“And aren’t either of you, I don’t know, concerned about it?”

“You guys already donate a bunch of money, what else can you do?”

Adrien frowned, reaching out and pulling his wife down to lay next to him so they both could be comfortable.

Marinette lifted her arms slightly so he could wrap his arms around her and nuzzled into him a little bit (Dick made a gagging noise in the background). “This isn’t really our type of thing, Chaton.”

He nodded reluctantly…

And then gasped.

“But what if it is!”

“What?” She said warily.

“I mean, we’re in Gotham. Everything is connected to crime here! What if the foster and adoption systems are messed up because the mob or something has something to do with it!”

“Did you stretch before that reach?” Asked Dick as he changed the channel.

Adrien huffed. “M’lady, c’mon, I make sense, right?”

She thought for a minute, and then closed her eyes. “Alright, Chaton, if you really want you can go investigate it. If it’s our kind of thing, then we fix it. Okay?”

He beamed.

~

Marinette was… tired.

So, when she walked into the kitchen and found Jason flinging cabinets open at random and Dick swinging from a ceiling light, she just continued on to the coffee machine.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THE TRASHCAN?!”

“Language,” Dick murmured absently. He hooked his legs over the light fixture and lowered himself down to open the cabinet beside Marinette, revealing... the trash can.

Jason stared at the cabinet in shock. “But… I opened that one… I know I did…”

“You have to be upside down to access it,” said Dick seriously.

She started up the machine. “Sweetie, don’t tell him that. He’ll break his neck.”

Jason slowly discarded his plate in the trash can, eyes locked on it as if it would disappear if he didn’t keep it in his sight at all times. “Why don’t you just have the trash can out…?”

Dick grinned. “Rich people thing. Can’t let people know you live here.”

“What?”

All he got was two shrugs. They didn’t really understand it either, they just didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

“I hate rich people,” Jason decided eventually.

“Same.”

“Including you.”

“Same.”

Adrien had chosen that exact minute to walk in and was now looking on in horror as Marinette brought an entire coffee pot to her lips and Jason dragged the trash can out into a reasonable place and Dick attempted a trapeze act on the ceiling light.

“I…”

“Morning,” said Marinette, sending a wave.

Adrien looked at the three of them for a few moments before sighing and sitting on the counter.

“Morning.”

~

Listen, if nothing else, Adrien had faith (... in humanity, religious faith is kinda weird when you have a god living in your jewelry).

This faith had never done him any good but it was there.

So, he had to hope that the problems with the system were things that he could fix as Chat Noir. Otherwise, he’d have to just accept the fact that the system didn’t care about its kids. He couldn’t do that.

The world was evil... but surely it couldn’t be that evil.

Unfortunately for his dreams of fixing everything, he found out that he needed to go to university for at least four years in order to get in. He couldn’t wait that long! People were suffering now!

Good thing he was rich.

Listen, Gotham is messed up. He’s been doing his best to fix it but, dang it, if everyone else can exploit it then he can, too!

(But only to help people. His moral compass was a roulette wheel and using his money to benefit solely himself was one of the lines he wouldn’t cross.)

Dick gave him a jealous look as he held up his new, definitely legitimately earned degree.

And then Jason had stepped into the room and frowned confusedly.

“You’re a social worker?”

“Am now!” He chirped.

“New?”

“Yep! I’m hoping to make it better, if I can.”

Jason gave a tiny laugh. “Oh, so you’re NEW new.”

Well, that wasn’t encouraging.

That night, he managed to catch Marinette before she could head off for patrols. “Do you think what I’m doing is useless?”

“A little bit but…” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I knew what I was getting into when I married you. I love you, Chaton.”

He frowned a little bit but returned the kiss and whispered his “I love you, too, M’lady.”

“Would you like me to drive you to work?”

He smiled and let her lead him along. That would be good. If he was driven to work then he could get someone to pick him up ‘late’ and give him time to snoop around.

Well, not today. The staff would know if it was his first day. He’d have to give it a month or so before he snooped. But it was good to start that kind of routine early.

When they pulled up to the orphanage, Marinette locked the doors before he could get out.

Crap.

He gave his wife a careful smile. “M’lady?”

“Listen to me: you are not allowed to adopt any of the kids.”

“But --.”

“Nope. No kids. We already have two when we said we were going to have zero. It has to stop.”

He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “What if… what if they’re about to age out?”

Marinette paused. He could see the gears turning in her head as she bit her lip, considering it.

Then she shook her head. “If they’re about to age out you can give them money and support to start out. That’s. All.”

He pouted a little but accepted this answer. It would have to do.

He heard the doors unlock and stepped out. He looked up at the building and suppressed a cringe. It looked like the kind of orphanage that you see in movies that always have an evil director. This was a good thing for him as Chat Noir but a bad thing when you consider that there are actual kids living there.

Adrien stepped inside, all too aware of his nerves.

After all, he was technically unprepared. Did he know basic medicine? Was he good with kids? Did he know how to teach even kids with challenges? Yes to all of that. Still, he couldn’t help but worry that maybe the four years of college that were asked of him could have taught him something that he would need.

Relax, he told himself.

This did nothing, and really only served to make him more anxious, but hush.

He was given the day to tour the place, and he was originally disappointed. Surely, this couldn’t be it. All the beds were crammed in one room! Some of the beds didn’t even have fitted sheets!

But then his mind wandered to Jason. They never found him asleep in any of the beds, instead finding him passed out with a thin blanket in the corner or, at best, in an armchair. He hardly ever slept alone, either, usually opting to choose whatever room had two or more people in it to sleep.

He had to remind himself that these kids were likely on the streets for at least a few months of their lives, and likely would have adapted to that.

It didn’t make him feel any better, though.

Adrien didn't let any of this show on his face, instead smiling as he introduced himself to the kids he passed. A few gave wary looks, others gave awkward smiles, and some didn’t even seem to notice him.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. He was their new teacher, people usually aren’t all that eager to meet those.

He hoped he could help, though.

~

Marinette clicked her tongue when she found Jason reading in his current favorite hiding space: under Dick’s bed.

“Sweetie, you’re going to get squished under there.”

He didn’t answer, probably because there was a flashlight in his mouth.

She leaned down to see if she could figure out a way that he could stay down there without getting hurt and scrunched up her nose at a smell.

“Is there… are you keeping food down there?”

Jason finally looked at her, his eyes wide. He quickly moved in front of the stash so she couldn’t get to it and pulled the flashlight from his mouth to speak: “It’s mine.”

“It’s spoiled,” she said, shaking her head. “You can hoard food if that makes you happy but at least make sure it’s something that won’t go bad, please. How about cereal -- no, actually, the kid would kill me if I gave you that… what about nutrition bars?”

“Those aren’t actually that healthy, you know.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “You’re right, they’re not, but they don’t spoil quickly and they have at least some kind of nutritional value.”

He hesitated, then reluctantly pushed the stash of food in her direction. She sifted through it to pull out any food that was still good, and then handed that over.

He looked at the tinier pile and then gave her a tiny smile.

“Thank you.”

She nodded. “I’ll go out and get some nutrition bars.”

His eyes widened. “You don’t have --.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was already going to start buying them to try and wean your brother off of cereal. This is just an added bonus,” she lied so he wouldn’t feel guilty about using her money.

He looked reluctant but still nodded.

She beamed and stood again, the spoiled food in her arms.

She yelled to Dick that Jason was under his bed again so he needed to be careful, then put a sticky note on his bed and door so he’d remember, then tossed the food.

And then she started towards the store.

~

Teaching all day and then coming home to teach another kid was… something.

Good thing Adrien had the patience of a saint from years of schooling Dick.

Jason groaned and fell back on the couch, covering his face with the textbook. “This is soooooo boring. I already know this stuff!”

“The test you took says differently,” said Adrien as he closed his copy.

All he got was another groan.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Whatever. He was exhausted. He’d take the night off. “Alright, fine, you’re bored. What do you want to do?”

Jason lifted the book from his face so he could send his dad a confused look.

“You have to enjoy something. Y’know, a hobby or something?”

Jason’s face reddened a little and he nodded, toying with some of the rings on his fingers. “I have one... but you can’t laugh if I tell you.”

“I wouldn’t.”

He mumbled something that she couldn’t make out, and Adrien frowned. “Sorry?”

He took a deep breath and then whispered his answer: “Iliketoread.”

It took a moment for his brain to catch up, and then he felt a wide smile stretch across his face. A kid? That reads?

He pushed himself up to his feet.

“I have a library card that’s been gathering dust for the past few years. C’mon.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “It’s been gathering dust? Why?”

“Uh… let’s just say I’ve been kind of busy with other things.”

“That sucks.”

He considered this, his head tipping to the side, then he nodded. “It does. I should read more.”

“You should.”

Adrien laughed a little. “Have any suggestions?”

Jason’s eyes lit up.

~

Marinette hummed absently as she stepped into the kitchen and then frowned as her eyes flicked between Dick and Jason, who were looking very intensely at a plate.

She stepped closer and rolled her eyes. It seemed they were dividing up the last cookie from her baking session last night.

Was she concerned that they had managed to eat all the cookies in the few hours since she had finished them? A little. But not that concerned. At least she knew they were getting calories.

But now she was just amused. Because they were using a ruler and a pencil and paper to figure out what exactly half was.

Dick seemed to finish his math first, because he picked up a knife and positioned it over the cookie.

“Careful!” Said Jason.

Marinette snickered. “Boys, I may have a solution for you.”

They looked up with confused expressions.

“I can… you know I can just make more, right?”

Jason looked like he was going to protest... but then Dick swiped the cookie and stuffed it into his mouth. He watched on in horror for a few moments before his face hardened.

“You live up to your name, Dickwad.”

Dick gasped. “Rude!”

“Oh, so I’m rude? You want to know what’s actually rude? It’s --.”

Marinette grinned as she sipped at her coffee. She’d intervene if things went too far but, for the time being, she was perfectly fine just watching.

Jason’s eyes found her and he brought a cheeky grin to his face. “Hey, mom, if you’re going to make cookies then Dickwad can’t have any, right?”

“What? No! Mari -- Mom -- Mominette!”

“Mom!”

“Mom!”

She tried not to laugh at the chorus of ‘Mom’s as she started pulling down ingredients.

~

After a month and a half of gaining the trust of the orphanage staff and kids, he managed to sneak into the director’s room and look through the financial records.

He snapped pictures of every page and then slipped out through the window.

When he got home he pulled the pictures up on a bigger monitor and started looking over them with Dick and Marinette at his side.

The longer he looked the more he frowned.

“It’s not an evil plot. I don’t know what to do when it’s not an evil plot,” he said eventually.

Marinette rested her head on his shoulder. “Of course it’s not. Even if criminals benefit from the system being broken, they don’t need to do anything to keep it that way. Even good cities have terrible adoption and foster systems.”

“There has to be something we can do!”

She and Dick exchanged exhausted looks.

“There has to be something we can do.” He repeated, frowning. “We’re rich!”

“We don’t have enough to beat out a mob boss in political donations, Chaton, much less a bunch of them.”

He sighed.

Marinette slipped her hand into his and was silent for a while, trying to think of a way to cheer him up. She squeezed a little tighter and he looked over with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, speaking of mob bosses, the kid and I have been closing in on one’s location. You want in? You always like beating them up...”

“I guess it has been a while since we’ve done that…”

They had been about two seconds away from just pushing the emotions down like they usually did, but then Dick had gasped and pushed himself to his feet.

“We can’t fix homes, but we can always make things easier when they leave.”

“We already agreed to give them money when they age out, sweetie.”

“Nonononono not like that!” Dick was pacing, now. “You guys know a lot of people, right?”

“I do…” said Adrien carefully.

“Then use that! Help them get into the fields they want to get into.”

“That’s…” Adrien pulled out his phone to translate the word to English. “... nepotism.”

Marinette shrugged absently. “We kill people, Chaton, this is hardly the place to draw the line. I can probably get them into the designing world if I wanted.”

“I could do circuses or law.”

Adrien sighed and closed his eyes. He figured he should just be glad that they were trying to help.

“... I can get modelling and any other field that I know someone in… I’d need to make some calls...”

~

The happiness that came along with finding a solution, weak as it was, lasted about a month.

Marinette smiled and wiped some blood from her husband’s cheek so she could give him a kiss.

“Feel better?”

“A little,” he admitted.

She smiled and tipped her head back to look at Dick, who was tying up the last of the henchmen. “You’ve had faster times, sweetie.”

“I would’ve gone faster if you were helping instead of ‘french kissing’ over here.”

“We weren’t --!” She clicked her tongue when both of the guys started laughing. “You’re hilarious. C’mon, we need to get out before the cops get here.”

They slipped out into the streets as sirens blared in the distance and detransformed.

Marinette hummed lightly as they made their way through back alleys. After all, their detransformations only got rid of the suits, not the blood… it would look a little weird if three people covered in blood were just walking through the streets.

Adrien opened the door for them, and she stepped inside…

Only to go pale.

Because Jason was up, watching a show. He had probably woken up and decided to wait until people were back to sleep. The three vigilantes went completely still, save for the quiet squeak of surprise that left Dick’s lips.

Jason looked over and his eyes widened.

“Uh… we can explain?” Said Marinette.

He screamed and scrambled off the couch as quickly as possible and made a mad dash for the kitchen.

The three vigilantes looked at each other, then followed after him.

Her eyes searched the kitchen and found him hidden under a table...

Oh. He had a knife. Fun.

Adrien pushed Dick behind them.

She held up her hands placatingly. “Sweetie…”

“NO! WHAT THE FUCK?! NO! I KNEW YOU GUYS WERE TOO NICE TO BE TRUE BUT WHAT?!  THE FUCK?! MURDERERS?! COME ON!”

Adrien sighed. “I… we aren’t… well… we kind of are… but...”

“Not helping,” Dick muttered.

Marinette bit her lip as she considered what to do to make Jason relax, then groaned. “Tikki. Spots on.”

Somehow, Jason’s eyes went wider when she transformed.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU GUYS ARE VIGILANTES?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

Adrien sighed.

The other two transformed as well.

Jason had gone into shock…

Progress?

They detransformed now that they had shown him the truth.

“Now that you know that we won’t hurt you, can you… put the knife down? Please? That’s the good knife and --?” She felt the glares of the other two vigilantes on the back of her head and winced. “Okay, maybe not the most important reason why... knives are sharp. We don’t like sharp things. They hurt.”

The kid did, in fact, put down the knife. This was probably just because he was stunned and on autopilot but at least he was no longer armed.

Marinette carefully walked over and picked it up off the ground. A pout made its way onto her face as she looked at the blade. It had scratches on it…

She saw Adrien’s disapproving look and huffed, tossing it into the sink a few feet away and then turning to the kid next to her.

“This wasn’t how we wanted you to find out…”

The boys made their way over as well and they all sat in a wide circle around the kid. They didn’t want him to feel alone but they also didn’t want to crowd him.

“We didn’t really want you to know at all, we just wanted to be a stable family for you,” explained Adrien.

Jason was emerging from his shock slowly, his breathing was picking up.

Marinette peeled her jacket off and draped it over his shoulders gently.

“We promise we won't force you to be a vigilante. In fact, we’d probably feel better if you weren’t one. You’re a kid,” said Adrien.

“But,” added Dick. His parents glared at him but he continued anyways: “If you want, then we won’t stop you. You’re old enough by our family standards, so we can’t really stop you if you want to. Just tell us and we’ll get you a miraculous that suits you and some training.”

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

Dick gave her a bit of side-eye. “What? It’s not like we would be able to stop him if he wanted to be a vigilante. I’d prefer that he at least be safe… -ish.”

Jason curled up in the jacket and closed his eyes. “Can I have some time to think about it? About… everything?”

“Of course, sweetie.” Marinette scooted away a little so he could get past her and he rushed out.

The three watched him go in silence. They heard the front door slam behind him.

She closed her eyes. “Sweetie, go after him? Make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

Dick gave a quiet “Okay” and transformed. With a shrill note, he was gone.

Adrien and Marinette were left alone.

She felt him crawl over to her and pull her into him.

“He’ll be okay,” said Adrien softly.

She bit her lip and then buried her face in his shoulder.

~

Over the next few weeks they heard people in the house.

He made sure to never acknowledge it. It could be Dick coming back for food or to grab some homework to do while watching over his brother, or it could be Jason.

He always hoped it would be Jason… but now that it actually was he felt a surge of anxiety.

Firstly, Marinette wasn’t home. Nygma had just announced his most recent death trap to the city and she’d had to rush out to deal with it.

Secondly, Dick had a class at the moment.

Thirdly, Adrien was just really tired. He’d spent the entire day teaching, of course he was tired. He wouldn’t be at the top of his game.

This was probably an intentional move on Jason’s part. It was a good idea to take precautions, Adrien would have been proud if he wasn’t so nervous.

He looked up from his spot on the couch and gave a careful smile. “Hey, Jay.”

Jason hesitated and then disappeared to the kitchen. He came back with a knife.

Ah. Great.

Adrien knew he could beat a child with a knife, that didn’t mean he wanted to.

Jason sat on the couch opposite Adrien and pointed his knife at him. “I want to ask some questions.”

“Of course. Anything.”

He nodded and lowered his knife ever so slightly. “Okay… why did you adopt me?”

Adrien frowned a little bit. “You were a kid that was so desperate for money that you were stealing a bunch of rich people’s hubcaps. I couldn’t not adopt you.”

“There’s a lot of people like that. Why me? I attacked you. There had to be better, safer options.”

“I…” His frown deepened. This was true. Why had he felt so drawn to Jason in particular? “I guess it could have been Marinette’s luck? One of her side-effects is that she has really good luck. I wouldn’t be surprised if we adopted the exact kid that was perfect for our family.”

Jason nodded a little bit, though he looked skeptical.

Fair enough. Adrien was also a little skeptical of his answer. He had a theory about what was going on but it wasn’t like he’d ever be able to prove it.

“Next question: what did Dick mean when he said that I was old enough to be a vigilante ‘by your standards’?”

Adrien winced a little bit. “You said you’re about thirteen, right? Well, Dick and I started at twelve and Mari started at thirteen.”

Jason gave him an incredulous look, then apparently got over it. “Oh. Okay. And… why did you start doing this?”

“Uh… odd question…” He pursed his lips. “It’s hard to explain. I… had an image to keep up and Chat Noir was -- still is, actually -- my outlet for me to be myself in public. Mari, I think, was more or less thrown into the life and then, when she finally had an out, couldn’t imagine herself without it. Dick wanted to get revenge on the person who got his parents killed and then decided to keep going.”

He frowned. “You make it sound addictive.”

“Oh, yeah, it definitely is.” Adrien sighed. “There’s a lot of reasons why we didn’t tell you but that was one of them. When you start you don’t stop. We made that mistake with Dick, we’re hoping that you’ll not do it.”

Jason set the knife down, finally. “But you wouldn’t stop me if I still wanted to?”

He winced. “No. If you wanted to then we’d give you a miraculous -- powers -- and you’d get to go out and fight crime.”

“You trust me?” He said with a laugh.

“Should I not?”

He rolled his eyes. “I grew up on the streets. Most people don’t.”

“Jay, no offense but I’m not scared of you. You could have stolen from us or attempted to hurt us at any point over the last few months and you didn’t.”

“You’re vigilantes! It’s not like I could have done any of that!”

He shrugged and stretched out lazily. “You’re right, you wouldn't have succeeded. But you didn’t know that. You thought we were just some really trusting rich people.”

Jason considered this with a frown, and then he looked at Adrien. “I want to be a vigilante.”

He groaned a little bit but nodded. “Fine. Take off your -- Mari’s -- whatever -- THE jacket and the hoodie for a minute so I can see who should train you?”

The kid looked a little uncomfortable but he did comply.

Adrien frowned at all the tiny scars but didn’t say anything as he carefully examined his build. Definitely closer to him than Marinette or Dick.

He would take up the physical aspect of training, then.

“Right, how much do you know about self-defense?”

~

The four of them sat on the floor, sifting through the different miraculi for ones that could protect Jason in battle.

Marinette hummed to herself as she sifted through her pile.

After a minute, Dick held up the turtle miraculous. “This one can keep him safe -- wait a minute, why didn’t I get this one?”

“Didn’t match your fighting style or personality,” said Adrien absently, his head tipping from side to side as he considered the miraculous.

“If we want to give him that one then he’s going to need a different weapon. What would you like, sweetie?”

Jason thought for a minute, staring at Wayzz.

Then his eyes lit up. “Can I have a gun?”

“I…” Began Marinette, then she shrugged. “Actually, we could probably use another long-distance fighter on the team.”

“And it keeps him a pretty safe distance away from the fighting…” Agreed Adrien.

Dick hesitated. “But guns are pretty lethal. He isn’t an adult.”

“Damn, that really is going to come back to bite me, huh?”

Jason frowned. “What? What’s going on?”

“Basically, we have a rule that says kids aren’t allowed to kill,” said Adrien, sending his wife a tired glare.

She gave him a tense smile in return. “Killing people messes you up, so we’re trying to keep you guys away from it.”

Jason hesitated a little bit. “I’ve kinda… already…”

The three others’ eyes widened and they gave each other nervous glances. Jason couldn’t seem to finish, and they didn’t ask him to. They could guess what he was trying to get at.

And they didn’t know how to respond. Their problem had been with introducing kids to murder, because they knew that it was something you never really came back from… but he’d already done it...

They figured that, from the way he said it, he had probably had no choice in the matter and was regretting doing it…

“I guess… we let him kill if he wants?” Said Adrien slowly.

Dick scratched his head. “I guess?”

The three of them shrugged at each other. It was probably -- no, definitely -- not the right decision but they really didn’t know what to do.

“I think he’d look cute with pistols,” said Marinette after a few minutes of silence.

Adrien, who was the only other person who had seen the turtle miraculous’s suit, nodded his agreement.

Jason transformed for the first time.

Dick nodded as well. “Pistols would be cute.”

~

Adrien smiled as he watched Jason mess around with his new powers.

There wasn’t much to them. They created a force field around an item or person of your choosing that held for as long as you stayed awake…

Still, he was proud of him. Baby’s first powers and all.

The three older vigilantes were casually throwing things and hitting the forcefield in an attempt to break it, and Jason was holding up surprisingly well.

“So, what’re you going to call yourself?” Adrien asked as he drummed his staff on it.

Jason thought for a minute and then smiled. “How about… Green Helmet?”

Marinette hit the force field too hard and the cane came back to hit her in the head, which could not be helping her growing headache.

She pursed her lips tightly as she lowered herself down into a chair. “You… you have a hood.”

“I disagree.”

“You can’t -- I’m literally a designer! My word is law! That’s a hood!”

“Nope.”

“Chaton! Tell him that’s a hood!”

Adrien sighed. “It’s a hood,” he agreed.

Everyone looked at Dick, who was beginning to look like he’d rather be anywhere else. He eyed the door out of the corner of his eyes as if wondering whether he could get away before they caught him.

He must have come to the conclusion that he couldn’t get there in time, because he gave his answer:

“It… could be a helmet if he wants it to be…”

Adrien rolled his eyes as the family erupted into an argument over what constitutes a hood versus what constitutes a helmet.

~

Marinette hummed lightly as she made brownies (she had faith, okay? No one was helping this time so it should work). Jason was sitting in a chair nearby, head resting on the back of it as he watched her.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” She asked. It was normal for Jason to watch her cook, he liked to keep his eye on food when he could, but he seemed almost… anxious. She could hear the gentle clinking of his rings as he messed with them.

“I… I want to buy something,” he said.

She dropped her bag of sugar into the bowl and hissed a string of curses as she looked at the now definitely ruined batter. Sure, she could technically go through and try to fix the ratios by adding more of everything else, but that would make enough brownies to feed a whole army --.

Wait a minute, what had he said?

Her eyes flicked to Jason. “Sorry? You want to buy something?”

He nodded with a tiny smile. “It’s a little expensive, I’m sorry, but… could we?”

Marinette was willing to buy a car if this kid asked, because he was ASKING HER TO BUY SOMETHING OH MY GOD, but she played it cool with a tiny nod.

“Sure, sweetie, let me just see how much it costs.”

He pulled up a picture on his phone and showed it to her.

It was a hardcover copy of an illustrated version of a book he liked. For forty dollars.

Okay, so he wasn’t asking for much, but it was still something! An improvement!

She smiled. “Sure, sweetie, I’ll get it next time I head out, okay?”

Jason beamed.

~

Adrien rolled his eyes when Dick flung himself across the couch dramatically.

“This isn’t faaaaiiiiir,” he whined.

He looked at his wife pleadingly and she clicked her tongue before lifting Dick’s head so she could sit down. She ran her fingers through her kid’s hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“He already knew a bit of self-defense when we met him so that was fine and we even gave extra time on training in his powers and with guns. We literally have no excuses for bringing him on at this point.”

“But I had to train for three years! He only had to do one!”

Jason grinned. “Maybe I’m just better.”

“Jay,” said Adrien exhaustedly.

“Or the favorite,” he added, his grin somehow growing.

“Jay!”

It was a good thing that Marinette had had a hold on Dick, because if she hadn’t he probably would have launched himself at his brother.

“You weren’t of age, he is,” she reminded him. “If you’d been old enough a year in then we would have let you do crime fighting, too.”

This was a lie, Dick had not been at all prepared after a year of training, but it made the kid smile so at least that was good.

Adrien stretched out from his spot in the window. “Right, we let Dick choose his first mission, what do you want to do first?”

Jason broke into a wide grin.

“There were some people who gave all the homeless kids trouble…”

~

They’d tracked the gang’s activities to a warehouse and had filed inside.

Adrien had helped Marinette carry their kids to the trusses above them (neither of their weapons had an easy way up, though they made mental notes to get them some kind of… grappling hook, maybe? It was a work in progress idea).

Dick shrouded them in shadows and muted the squeaking of their boots on the metal as they slowly made their way to the gang.

Adrien stretched his shoulders a little bit and then dangled his legs over to prepare himself for the jump down. Marinette and Dick copied his stance.

They looked at Jason, who gulped a little before copying the stance.

They hopped down as a family…

Because nothing says family bonding like murdering a bunch of gang members.

~

“Hey?”

Adrien looked up and frowned, alarm bells ringing in his ears. Jason was shuffling from foot to foot anxiously from his spot in the doorway. An anxious kid? This couldn’t be good...

“Yes, Jay?”

Jason messed with his rings.

“Since I’m going to be… here for a while, can we take the car to pick up my stuff?”

Adrien would have pinched himself to check if this was a dream if any of his dreams were ever this nice.

He dropped the book he was reading onto the bed and pushed himself up. “I -- wow! Okay! Of course!”

Jason gave an awkward smile.

Adrien tried not to smile too much as he followed the kid’s directions.

Mainly because this might dredge up bad memories for Jason, and he didn’t want to be too caught up in his euphoria of the kid genuinely accepting being part of the family to notice that he was shutting down.

But, to his surprise, Jason actually seemed just as excited.

They pulled up to a mostly abandoned looking greenhouse and Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly.

“What? I could grow myself food! It was good,” Jason defended himself.

He gave a smile, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, I was just trying to imagine you eating vegetables.”

Jason huffed a little bit and then held up a hand for Adrien to wait. He crouched down and then, after a bit of pushing, popped a pane of glass out of place. He set it down and then crawled through.

There was a bit of rustling inside and then the door swung open.

“Behold! My humble abode!”

Adrien raised his eyebrows as he stepped inside. ‘Humble’ was definitely the word for it…

His eyes scanned around and he had to hold back a frown at how little Jason had. There were a few plants. A bunch of vines and leaves had been piled together to make a makeshift ‘bed’ with a few blankets thrown overtop. A few random clothes were strewn about, all in varying states of shabbiness.

(There was also a bucket in the corner. Adrien was deciding to believe that it was for washing clothes.)

The only thing that Jason had really ‘had’ was the entire nook dedicated to books.

Adrien and Jason grabbed everything of importance to him and put it in the back of the car.

And then they started on their way home.

~~~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladythugs @moonlightstar64

[evehere]

Chapter 7 of Yearning willow

2.0 Ji Baihua

Yearning willow masterpost! 🍃

Mo Ran punched the wall so hard that it trembled under his fist.

How dared he!? The fucking waste of a space the man was, he dared to call himself a doctor!? Son of a bitch! Ass-licking bastard! He remembered the man’s fawning face and calculating eyes—he had been the one to attend Chu Wanning while they were married. Chu Wanning’s state when he entered the prison was for sure related to this man’s “care”!

Mo Ran pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to control his rapid breathing. The fucking rat… Mo Ran had half a mind to chase after him and let him taste the edge of his sword! He would do the people a favour if he just killed the conniving rat! Disgusting bag of fleas!

His hands pressed into tight fists. Mo Ran was trembling hard from the sheer rage he was feeling right then, hearing his heart beating furiously in his eardrums.

As the saying goes, rats and snakes nest together, he thought darkly, his eyes darting to the western house he knew was at the other side of the courtyard. He could always just light the nest on fire and get rid of all of his problems. A dark, wicked pleasure arose in his chest at the idea, imagining already the screams and the pleas for mercy.

As if Mo Ran had any mercy left in his body. They had taken it away when they took Chu Wanning from his side, so now they’d pay. Everyone would pay. Now that he knew what was going to happen and how, no one could stop him! He’d destroy their lives just like they had destroyed his. He’d stomp them under his feet and have them beg him on their knees!

Since Mo Ran didn’t get a good end, they would have to follow him to hell! He’d made them taste the same desperation, the same impotence and helplessness he had suffered while they wished for a death that wouldn’t come.

He’d… he’d…

Wait.

Mo Ran stopped his train of thought.

He recognised this darkness, this voice in his head that persuaded him to follow his basest, most violent desires.

Fuck. Of course, he had just woken in this body. Last time, it had taken a few days to clear his system out, though he didn’t remember exactly how many. Days blended together when one was imprisoned in a prison cell.

When was the last time he had been in the snake’s nest?

Mo Ran pressed his hands on his face and took a deep breath. And another. And another. He controlled his breathing, counting each inhale and each exhale, calming his mind until he no longer felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. When he lowered his hands, he no longer resembled a demon on earth, though ambers of rage still flickered in the depth of his eyes.

Revenge would have to wait until he made sure that whatever he did wouldn’t splash dirt or blood on Chu Wanning. His husband didn’t need those stains on him.

His only goal this time around was to make sure Chu Wanning got out unscathed of the mess Mo Ran had made.

Mo Ran observed his husband again for a long moment, before placing his exposed hand back under the covers. He tucked the quilt securely under his body so he wouldn’t shake the quilt off if he kicked his legs while he slept.

Chu Wanning’s breathing was still just as laboured as before, and his colour hadn’t improved one bit. Worriedly, Mo Ran put a hand on his feverish face, pushing the lone strands of hair away from his forehead. His palm was so big that it almost engulfed the elegant lines of his husband’s face when he pressed tenderly his hand against his cheek.

His thumb caressed Chu Wanning’s cheekbone, light as a feather. Whatever he did, he’d have to be careful, but his mind wasn’t in the right state to make sensible decisions. First, he’d have to look for a reliable doctor for him. He knew Chu Wanning wouldn’t die from this—after all, he had survived long enough to accompany him to prison—but Mo Ran wouldn’t take any chances with his health.

Any other plan could wait. From now to his impeachment there were four, almost five years. He had time to take measured steps, to remove the pests that plagued his home. Whatever he did, he had to ensure Chu Wanning’s safety first.

Besides… there was something wrong. Mo Ran felt irked. As if he was being observed. He scoured the bedroom, but they were alone.

Before Mo Ran could think about it further, voices reached him from outside the room.

“Ji-xiaojun! Ji-xiaojun! Where are you going!? Please stop, these are furen’s rooms! You can’t behave like this here!” A girl’s voice exclaimed. It started far away, but it quickly reached the doors, just like the noise of several sets of footsteps.

“Out of my way,” a man’s cold voice answered, “as if you cared about furen and his dignity. Don’t you dare lecture me.”

Mo Ran rose. Here comes one problem, he thought, squinting his eyes.

There was a shadow reflected on the white paper of the door. Someone was leaning on the door, holding it closed.

“Please, Ji-xiaojun, furen is sick! You can’t just barge in here!”

“How would you know if furen is sick? You were on your way to Honglian House from the servants’ quarters. Now, get away from the door or I’ll have Xiarong[1]drag you away,” the man said. He didn’t raise his voice, but the steeliness of his voice vowed for the intent behind his words.

Mo Ran had enough. His frustration and his anger hadn’t even receded completely, and now these lowlifes dared to quarrel right under his nose. In two strides, he got to the door and opened it with force.

The maid at the other side almost fell back at the sudden loss of her support, barely catching herself on the door frame on time.

“What is this ruckus?” Mo Ran asked, staring harshly at the maid.

“Houye!” the young man and the maid exclaimed almost at the same time. However, the maid’s voice was heavily tinged with fright, whereas the young man’s reflected a deep surprise.

There was an entire entourage outside, but Mo Ran’s eyes fell on the girl on the floor first. He recognised the maidservant as the first rank maid in charge of Honglian House, a slender and pretty young girl, no older than twenty, with high cheekbones and thick lips.

“Where have you been until now, huh?” Mo Ran berated her, his anger burning anew at the sight of her. “Do you think that Nanping Manor is feeding you for free!? Fucking useless bitch!”

The girl fell to her knees, her head hanging low.

“X-Xinjing[2]is sorry, houye, I-I was…”

“Get to work! Don’t let me catch you loafing on your job again or else I’ll flay your skin off! Do you understand me!?”

“Y-Yes, houye,” the maid said, scurrying in.

Mo Ran stood there, trying to get a rein of himself. He shouldn’t have yelled right in front of so many people.

Well, everyone knew something had changed, since he had carried Chu Wanning out of the shrine and he had chased the doctor out, so he could just break the cracked pot and think of a countermeasure later.

The group was led by a young man wearing his hair in the half-updo that was customary among the men who married in deference to their husbands—concubines, or, like Chu Wanning, the one in submission in a marriage between men. The young man’s face showed his astonishment at his behaviour, though his raised eyebrows and almost bulging eyes didn’t cover his handsome features.

Mo Ran instantly recognised his slightly raised peach-blossom eyes, which gave people an impression of anger, and fine eyebrows, with a cinnabar dot on his brow.

Ji Baihua.

Immediately, Mo Ran relaxed his shoulders a tiny fraction. He had almost forgotten about this man—his harem had grown so much at the end of his life that he no longer kept count of those he didn’t favour. But he had some memories of him, because when Nanping Manor had fallen in his first life, Ji Baihua was one of the few who had remained. Mainly because he had nowhere to go.

This was a man he could trust not to stab them in the back: Ji Baihua was a concubine lady Wang had sent him, a man loyal to Xue Manor and, subsequently, to Nanping Manor.

While he was reminiscing, Ji Baihua had overcome his astonishment and lowered on one knee to greet him properly. Behind him, a maid and a young boy followed suit and an old man with a doctor’s case kowtowed to him, pressing his forehead to the ground, so Mo Ran could only see his grey bun on top of his head.

“Greetings, houye,” they said.

“Rise,” Mo Ran said, keeping his voice tone brisk and short, as if his presence annoyed him. If he suddenly changed his attitude towards Ji Baihua out of the blue, people would think he had gone mad overnight. “What are you doing here?”

Ji Baihua didn’t get up. Instead, he lowered further and dropped his head low.

“I noticed furen didn’t look wellyesterday morning, when we paid our respects to him. Since houyelet him out earlier magnanimously, I acted on my own and invited doctor Ren Kang[3] fromthe Imperial Academy of Medicine. I dare supplicate houye to…”

Doctor Ren Kang!

“Please, come inside, doctor Ren,” Mo Ran said, interrupting Ji Baihua, who threw him another confused look.

Mo Ran didn’t see the sheer bewilderment in Ji Baihua’s eyes, because he had stepped forward to support the doctor as he rose to a standing position. Doctor Ren was an old man in his fifties, with a head full of grey hairs and hooded eyes. He looked exactly the same as he did in Mo Ran’s memories—though the one Mo Ran had met in his first life was a few years older.

“This humble one greets houye. May a thousand blessings be with you, houye,” the doctor said with a steady voice and bowing deeply, with an attitude that was neither overbearing nor servile.

“I’ll have to trouble doctor Ren with furen’s health,” Mo Ran said, pulling him inside without looking at Ji Baihua twice.

Without further ado, they stepped inside. Ji Baihua rose slowly, and, accompanied by his maid, he followed them inside.

Xinjing was picking up some of the mess around Chu Wanning’s bed, creating enough free space so she could put a thick cushion on the floor next to the bed for the doctor to kneel on.

“Leave,” Mo Ran told her, expressionless, as the doctor took out his tools.

The servants were already used to the sudden changes in Mo Ran’s instructions—gods knew that he had become volatile and temperamental beyond recognition after Shi Mei’s death. However, Xinjing’s mouth twitched.

“But who will serve if Xinjing leaves?”

She regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth, as she glimpsed the fury that rose again in Mo Ran’s eyes.

“The servants in this household are becoming more and more capable as each day passes,” Mo Ran said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “They dare question their master’s decisions now. If you must know, isn’t Ji Baihua right here to serve furen and me?”

Xinjing fell to her knees again, ready to apologise again, but before she could say a single word, Mo Ran interrupted her.

“Ji Baihua,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as a sword. Behind him, he heard clothes rustling, and his concubine’s face appeared in his field of vision. “Lend me your boy.”

“Yes, houye.” The other man called, “Xiarong!”

“No, no, houye, please have mercy! Houye, please have mercy!” Xinjing exclaimed, her face white as chalk and her voice trembling with fear. She kowtowed repeatedly, knowing this wouldn’t end well for her.

An agile boy leaped in the room in seconds and bowed to Mo Ran.

“Drag her out to the courtyard, and slap her face twenty times! I want her kneeling outside until midday,” Mo Ran said, without batting an eye. “Let everyone know that if anyone dares to laze around and question my orders, this is what will happen to them!”

“Yes, houye!” The boy said, proceeding to drag the girl out by her underarms.

Xinjing trashed around, trying to stop him to no avail. The boy was more than used to heavy jobs and had no trouble taking her out.

“No, houye, please, have mercy! Xinjing is wrong, this servant knows it! Please, houye!”

Her screams followed them all the way out, until the sound of the first slap reached them, and her cries for mercy turned into pained yelps and sobs.

“One!” the boy called out from outside.

Mo Ran acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. To put in order Chu Wanning’s house, he would set an example to start with. No one would dare to disregard his care for the short term, but this wasn’t the way to go in the long run. Whether his rage at his husband’s state of inattention of neglect had set the punishment higher, was a whole another issue that Mo Ran, honestly, wasn’t much bothered about.

The doctor had been working on getting his tools out with steady hands, without batting an eye. He was truly an unwavering man—others in his place might be already trembling.

Returning to his post beside the bed, he saw Ji Baihua throwing a meaningful glance to his maid, who cleverly took his hint and left the room, closing the door behind her just as another cry of pain reached them.

“Two!”

***

Ji Baihua observed everything, even though his expression didn’t change. The marquis was behaving… unusually today. Unusually to say the least—terrifically wrong would be more exact. It was as if… as if he wasn’t the same person.

Just yesterday, there had been yet another ruckus in Honglian House, which ended with the furen serving a punishment in the shrine yet again. Though Ji Baihua didn’t know what had caused their argument this time, he had perceived no anguish from houye at furen’s discomfort the day before. He had announced loudly for all servants to hear that furen had to stay three days in the shrine and no one was allowed to bring him food until his time was up.

Then, he had gone straight to Rong Jiu’s rooms. That son of a bitch never missed an opportunity to seduce the marquis to his rooms, and an angry houye was a houye in need of an outlet.

A night at Rong Jiu’s rooms. That was all that happened.

Ji Baihua couldn’t wrap his head around what could have transpired during the night. He knew better than to expect the little bastard to open his mouth to plead for furen’s case. If anything, Rong Jiu mastered the art of adding firewood to the fire and pouring oil into the flames.

On the surface, nothing had changed. The marquis was just as fickle as ever, as his words to the maid had proved, and equally mercurial and unpredictable.

However, he had brought his husband out of the shrine—Ji Baihua almost hadn’t believed it when his maid told him she had bumped into houye screaming for a doctor for furen. He was allowing a doctor to attend to him. Ji Baihua was ordered to stay. And the marquis himself was staying.

Just these were enough to make Ji Baihua’s mind swarm with turbulence and befuddlement. Though he had married into Nanping Manor for less than a year, he had seen and heard enough to know a few things. First, the marquis hated furen. Second, the marquis disliked Ji Baihua. So for him to ask a doctor to attend to furenand to ask him to stay…

Yet he was used to hiding his emotions, so none of his questions or his surprise showed on his face. Instead, he helped the doctor by placing furen’s hand on the wrist cushion and a silk handkerchief on the bony wrist. Sensibly, he stepped where he could wait on them without being a nuisance.

Now that the door was closed, not a peep from outside could be heard. All the houses in Nanping Manor were soundproof, which was a blessing because the concubines’ rooms were next to each other. Ji Baihua would rather live without hearing Rong Jiu’s voice at nights. Or anyone else’s.

Unlike him, the marquis had taken a seat close to the bed, and everything from his frown and pursed lips to his tapping foot spoke of impatience and a deep anxiousness.

Doctor Ren was one of lady Wang’s old friends and clients. Lady Wang sold herbs and medicinal plants to many doctors in the capital, and among them, she spoke highly of doctor Ren’s abilities and discretion—to be an imperial doctor, and a successful one after two decades to top, one had to have more than just vast knowledge and abilities.

When Ji Baihua heard furen had been punished to the shrine despite his illness—truly, the man could try to fool everyone, but Ji Baihua had a trained eye for illness—he sent a note to the doctor, to ask him to be prepared to come to Nanping Manor. Lady Wang had asked him to take care of furen, so Ji Baihua would do his best, including calling the best doctor he knew.

Though he couldn’t have imagined that the time would come so soon.

Doctor Ren stayed silent for a long time, taking furen’s pulse. Then, covering his fingers with the handkerchief, he examined furen meticulously, from his eyes, to his mouth and tongue, to the nail beds on both hands.

While the doctor worked, Ji Baihua inspected the room discreetly out of the corner of his eye. It was the first time he was in furen’s bedroom, since concubines usually gathered at the entrance hall of Honglian House. As the second largest house in Nanping Manor, HonglianHouse was separated into five spaces. The central one was the entrance hall, at the western side was his bedroom and at the eastern side there was a study, with a calligraphy table and a guqin stand, though the guqin was absent.

The entire house was a mess. Usually, the maidservants kept a minimum order, but whenever furen was absent for any reason, the servants would slope off to the servants’ quarters or the kitchens. Honglian House was a beautiful house, decorated with rosewood furniture with red as an accent, very elegant against the heavy cream curtains that separated each space in the house and the simple ink paintings displayed on the screens. Just that… everything had the mark of wear, some more visible than others, and there was so much clutter everywhere that he could barely see any of the furniture and the carpet—Ji Baihua sighed to himself that to get so much clutter in just a couple of days… was truly a feat on its own.

Though the painting on the other side of the house was very much visible from where he stood. Ji Baihua turned his sight away from it, uncomfortable.

However, the doctor started asking them some questions, so Ji Baihua’s inspection ended.

“Has furencomplained of dizziness, shortness of breath, weariness or palpitations?” He asked first, with his brow slightly furrowed. Though he wasn’t looking at the marquis, it was clear it was him he was asking.

“I-I don’t know,” the young man said, turning at Ji Baihua.

“Furen hasn’t complained of anything… he doesn’t talk much about himself either.”

The doctor hummed, saying nothing.

“How long has he been this pale?” He asked then, observing the back of furen’s hand.

“I don’t remember,” the marquis murmured, looking yet again at Ji Baihua.

“He has always been this pale since I married in, more than half a year ago.”

“Does he have injuries?”

The marquis turned really red when the doctor asked a last question, but yet again the doctor was met with an “I don’t know”.

After the third question, the doctor asked no more, probably knowing that no matter what he asked, he’d be met with half-assed answers like Ji Baihua’s. Or worse, another “I don’t know” from the marquis. If he pressed too much, embarrassment could easily turn into anger with arrogant people like the marquis, and people like doctor Ren and Ji Baihua knew that well.

Neither Ji Baihua nor the marquis made a sound if the doctor didn’t talk first, letting him work in silence. Still, when the water clock marked that a quarter had passed, the young man was defeated by his impatience.

“How is he, doctor?” He asked with tone Ji Baihua had never heard from him.

So the fierce Taxian general did know of the word “fear” after all.

“Furen’s health has visibly worsened since I last checked on him five years ago,” the doctor said unhurriedly, taking out a needle from a linen case filled with long and bright silver needles. With gentle but firm hands, he punctured the patient’s index finger and observed the drop of blood.

“You have attended him before?” The marquis asked, his voice reflecting the same surprise Ji Baihua was feeling.

The doctor nodded, without pausing in his work.

“I was appointed to care for Chu-furen’s wounds after the last battle at the northern borders.”

Ji Baihua tensed up at the mention of it, his eyes immediately looking for the marquis’ reaction. To his utter astonishment, there was almost no change in the young man’s expression.

The battle at the northern borders five years ago was the battle that had taken the first furen’s life—the biggest, most off-limits taboo in Nanping Manor.

Lady Wang had warned Ji Baihua: never mention the battle, never say a word about Mu-furen, Shi Mei. Two years ago, a servant with a big mouth had lost his life when he had dared say that doctors like Mu-furen should have never gone to the battlefield. The marquis had him caned to death.

This time, there was no wave, no change in the marquis’ expression.

Ji Baihua couldn’t help a shiver. Something had happened. Something huge and drastic. What could have caused this change in the marquis? He didn’t know what or why, but it made him feel cold inside.

He should have come prepared for surprises, because the marquis’ next words left him dazed anew.

“He was wounded?”

Both the doctor and Ji Baihua stared at him. Thankfully, they were men with excellent control over their expressions, or else they’d be gaping open-mouthed at him. Still, doctor Ren couldn’t help raising his eyebrows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ji Baihua wondered if it was some twisted joke, but the sheer turmoil and perturbation he saw on the marquis’ face convinced it wasn’t.

“He… he was.” Ji Baihua couldn’t help saying. Immediately, houye’s incredulous gaze froze him on his spot, but his own disbelief was stronger this time. “E-everyone in the capital knows that the former war counsellor Chu was stabbed in the chest and that he almost died on the battlefield.”

When the war ended, storytellers had a busy time telling and retelling how war counsellor Chu Wanning had turned the tides in the last battle, almost sacrificing his own life for the people of his country. Chu Wanning had got a great “loyal” reputation—facing his dying pupil, Shi Mei, and the greater good, he had chosen the latter.

“The sword grazed his heart,” the doctor said, getting back to his work. “It was a miracle he survived.”

Some said a few years later that Chu Wanning should have died on the battlefield. A hero like him should have died a dignified death, instead of suffocating surrounded by four walls all day long. Before, Ji Baihua couldn’t have cared less. After marrying Mo Ran, in the depth of his heart, he agreed with those people.

The marquis was speechless for a long moment afterwards. Ji Baihua supposed he could understand why he hadn’t heard of it right after the war, since his first husband had died in the same battle that had wounded Chu Wanning. But what about the years after?

The silence extended for too long. Ji Baihua didn’t dare look at the young man directly. There was a sense of loss, some sort of helplessness, as if he was a lost child, that made it unbearable to look at him now. He supposed he wouldn’t know if Ji Baihua was looking at him anyway, because he kept his eyes fixed on his husband’s unconscious face.

The doctor finished his examination and turned to Mo Ran.

“From what this humble one has seen in the examination, Chu-furen’s health is still suffering from the aftermath of his war wounds. The base of his health isn’t as it was before the war, and he has been afflicted by a qi stasis around his old wound, as well as a consumptive ailment that affects his blood.”

Ji Baihua nodded to himself, agreeing with the diagnosis. Furen had never taken well convalescence.

However, the marquis merely wrinkled his brow, confused and lost around the medical terminology.

“What does that mean?”

“Chu-furenlost a lot of blood and sustained a great injury during the war,” the doctor explained patiently. “This humble one warned him it would take more than a year to recover, even if he followed my instructions, which I see he didn’t. Though his body isn’t as weak as he was then, his blood and qi deficit hasn’t been recovered.”

“Is it serious? Is it… is it life-threatening?” The marquis asked with apprehension.

The tightly knit brow and the concerned angle of his mouth were so foreign on his face that Ji Baihua couldn’t help stare at him for a moment.

“Chu-furenshouldn’t go on like this, but there’s no immediate threat to his life. I’m sure this fever isn’t a one-time occurrence, and it’s a manifestation of the weakness that plagues his heart. It’ll go down with rest, cold compresses and a tonic to bring the fever down. His body needs rest, which is why he isn’t waking up. This humble one will write a prescription to remove blood and qi stasis and promote blood circulation, and send a tonic to build up his energy and nourish his blood. Furen should take them for at least half a year. I’ll come by to check up on furen every day until his fever ceases,” the doctor said, taking out paper and ink to write a prescription.

The marquis nodded as well, mumbling to himself. His whole body was hovering over his husband’s, as if he couldn’t bear the distance between them. There was a confused, hurt look in his eyes. Ji Baihua looked away.

For a while, they waited in silence as the doctor wrote the prescription. Impatiently, the marquis stood up to read what the doctor was writing.

“What does he usually eat?” The doctor asked off-handed, but he immediately realised that they wouldn’t know the answer, so he continued smoothly, without a pause. “He should have plenty of rest and have good meals. Especially non-vegetarian dishes. All kinds of meats, eggs, liver and whatever furen likes, but keep a good balance with vegetables and fruits. Fresh, not pickled or dried.”

The marquis nodded at each instruction the doctor threw at them with a concentrated expression. Ji Baihua wondered if he was really remembering all the little details the doctor was telling them. Usually, this would be the work of furen’s closest maidservants, but one was sick, and the other was currently receiving twenty slaps.

It didn’t matter, he sighed. He was paying attention just as well, since he was the best candidate to take care of furen. Even if the marquis had a change of heart, his official duties kept him out of the house most of the day.

“I think he was in pain earlier,” the marquis mumbled. “Why was that?”

The doctor’s gaze was blank when he looked up from what he was writing. Ji Baihua could understand what he was thinking, because he was asking himself the same question: if the marquis didn’t even know if his husband had any injuries on him, why would he know if his unconscious husband was in pain??

“This humble one would need to have a look at it,” the doctor said politely. “Where would be the pain?”

Indeed, Ji Baihua could see why lady Wang, a healer of exceptional ability herself, admired this doctor.

The marquis’ question started another examination. Indeed, when the doctor moved his leg, there was a visible wince on furen’s face, even though he was still unconscious. After a few moments, the doctor turned to him.

“May this humble one ask Ji-xiaojun to get a first batch of medicine with this prescription? I want to make sure the preparation is done well.”

Ji Baihua was bright enough to understand the meaning behind his words: leave, please. Whatever the doctor did and said next wasn’t meant for him. Most likely, the doctor was trying to preserve Mo Ran or Chu Wanning’s dignity, by not letting a concubine know what afflicted furen.

Without saying a word, Ji Baihua took the prescription with both hands, bowed to the marquis, and left.

To live well as a concubine, curiosity was a hindrance.

***

When Ji Baihua left, the doctor knelt in front of Mo Ran again, with his head low.

“This humble one has a rough idea of what may be the ailment that plagues furen. Only one exploration is needed to confirm my diagnosis,” he said. “May this humble one request permission to see furen’s knees?”

Mo Ran’s mouth twitched, an instant dislike arousing in his heart at the idea of another man seeing Chu Wanning’s body. How very brave of doctor Ren to request to be left alone with a very volatile marquis and his unconscious husband… if Mo Ran lashed out at his words, there would be no one near to save his hide, he thought with a snarl.

“No!”

“Please reconsider, houye.”

Mo Ran almost lashed out, ready to kick a doctor for the second time in the day, before he caught sight of the earnest sincerity in doctor Ren’s face.

He had seen this expression before.

When he had been at his lowest, none of his past power remaining, this man had treated him with the professionalism and sincerity. Even then, he had treated Chu Wanning with utmost respect, though no rule forced him to.

Mo Ran’s hand formed a tight fist on his thigh.

“Alright,” he said, gritting his teeth.

The doctor got to work immediately. There were no wasted movements in how he quickly uncovered Chu Wanning’s legs and rolled up the trouser leg. Too agitated to stay still, Mo Ran imitated what the doctor was doing on the other side, though he was much placated that the doctor made no contact with his skin.

As they rolled up his trousers, Mo Ran’s mouth felt as if he had swallowed sand when he saw patches of bruises on his husband’s shins, all the way to the knees. Some were still an angry red, while others were already turned blue and green. He didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the swelling in the joint wasn’t normal.

Chu Wanning, you dumb, stubborn man…

Mo Ran’s eyes took in the battered legs. Each of the bruises made his heart cry bitter tears in a way the injuries Chu Wanning had received in prison hadn’t. In prison, the sight of his injuries drew up his rage, his anguish and distress, but in this case, it brought a bitter taste to his mouth.

He had caused these.

Mo Ran stayed silent as the doctor worked, unable to turn his eyes away. First, he pressed his fingers lightly on the side of his knees—Mo Ran found no strength in him to find it inappropriate—and flexed the leg from one side to the other. Then, clicking his tongue, he took out an ointment and rubbed it on his knees with dextrous fingers. The ointment had a strong, pungent smell that tingled in Mo Ran’s nose.

“Furen’s knees have signs of blood stasis and damage to the inner structure. If this humble one isn’t mistaken, he must spend a lot of time kneeling,” the doctor said, picking out more ointment from the jar.

“What did you say?” Mo Ran asked, dumbfounded.

The doctor merely turned to look at one of the many calligraphy practices that laid on the low table.

“I suppose Chu-furen must practice very often.”

Mo Ran followed his gaze to the handwriting he was so familiar with. Chu Wanning’s calligraphy was strong and determined in the strokes, elegant and poised, following a structured and rigid style that Mo Ran had mocked more than once in the past.

It seamlessly brought to mind the image of Chu Wanning kneeling in front of his calligraphy table, in the study at HonglianHouse.

He used a classical piece of furniture, with short and overly decorated legs. It had been there when they had moved to Nanping Manor, and Shi Mei hadn’t used it a lot. However, Mo Ran didn’t have any trouble remembering the multiple instances he had seen Chu Wanning kneeling there, copying sutras and poems or practicing calligraphy. There had been few entertainments left for him as Mo Ran grew progressively unreasonable.

When they had married, Mo Ran had wished to make a statement, and he had forbidden any changes in the furniture and decorations of Honglian House. The thought now brought a wave of bitterness to his tongue.

Mo Ran understood that the doctor was giving him an excuse to get them out of their predicament. Most probably, the doctor knew that Chu-furen was ordered to kneel every once in a while, since Mo Ran hadn’t bothered to keep it a secret. It would be most embarrassing for Chu Wanning to let people know he knelt often enough to injure his legs.

People would talk about Chu Wanning, saying he didn’t know how to learn a lesson, to the point his knees had been injured from the many times he had been sent to the shrine. About Mo Ran, they’d say at most that he had gone a bit overboard disciplining his household. At the end of the day, they were still husbands, people would sigh, he should be more patient with him.

But the worst of the rumours and gossip would be Chu Wanning’s burden to bear. If he returned to the court, it could be used against him: he doesn’t even know how to correct his mistakes when his husband punishes him, how can he correct the other ministers at court?

At once, Mo Ran felt infinitely grateful that the doctor had dismissed everyone, including Ji Baihua. A hard and bitter fist constricted his chest when he thought of why his husband kneeling in the shrine, cold and alone, bearing the pain until his legs were damaged. His heart hurt as if it was being fried in a scalding pan, and his hand hovered on top of Chu Wanning’s knees, not daring to touch them.

“I’ll change his furniture,” Mo Ran mumbled when he noticed that the doctor was expecting some kind of answer.

“It would be best if he didn’t kneel for a while,” the doctor said tactfully. “This humble one will come by tomorrow and relay instructions to him as well. Meanwhile, his knees can be treated with cold compresses, just like his fever. Don’t let him stand for too long and don’t have him sit for too long. Knees can be tricky, and they might hurt with the cold, but don’t let him bed rest for long.”

Mo Ran just nodded to everything the doctor said, mumbling to himself as he memorised what he had to do. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and placed Chu Wanning’s hand under the covers again.

“Thank you very much, doctor Ren. I’ll have a gift sent along with your honorariums to your home,” Mo Ran said with all the sincerity he could muster.

“It was this humble one’s duty as a doctor, it’s not worth houye’s gratitude.” As a last thought, he added, “maybe the servants should add a stove.” The doctor cleared all his tools and looked to the door, ready to leave.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep you a bit longer and talk to you privately in my office,” Mo Ran said. There were things he needed to know.

“Of course, houye.”

“Please tell a servant to lead you to the office. I’ll be with you shortly,” Mo Ran said.

The doctor nodded and left, closing the door after him.

There was something Mo Ran wanted to know before he left.

A feeling of wrongness had plagued him since he had arrived in Chu Wanning’s room. There was something deeply troubling him, making his hair stand on end. He felt… observed. But then, Chu Wanning had taken all of his attention—there were few things more important right now than his husband’s health.

He stood slowly, and surveyed the room, taking slow steps as he examined everything. It took him only a couple of swipes at the room to discover what was amiss.

Shi Mei was looking at him from the other side of the room, as young and beautiful as ever, with a slight smile on his lips.

***

Wangyue was bored.

Suppressing a sigh, he rested his chin on his hand, leaning against the armrest. His deep blue robes pooled around his elbows with elegance, weighted down by the fox fur embroidered around his sleeve. His family sent him the latest and most exquisite fabrics, as it befitted a son from the Jiang family, but Wangyue couldn’t wear them without disrespecting furen—a concubine’s belongings shouldn’t exceed the rightful spouse’s—but even his worse robes were priceless. They didn’t bring any other joy to Wangyue, apart from the envious look in Rong Jiu’s eyes.

Rong Jiu, that boastful bastard, had excused himself from the morning greetings. The maid had said something along the lines of “utter exhaustion from serving houyelast night”.

Humph. Better for Wangyue anyway. Rong Jiu was a nasty little son of a bitch. Last month, he had scarred the face of a new maid ru-furen sent him.

Such were the actions of a man without self-confidence. He was one of the youngest among them, even though he had married in much earlier. Rong Jiu had no good-standing family to back him—no family at all, from what Wangyue knew—and no talents to speak of besides his whoring behaviour. His androgynous looks, while charming, were nothing special among the beauties their houye had seen. Besides, he was a man with no option of giving children to their houye.

No wonder Rong Jiu was afraid and jealous of Wangyue.

But there was truly no one to have a conversation with him after ru-furen ended the meeting. Again, Wangyue worked hard to suppress a sigh. It would be disrespectful.

The concubines sat according to their status whenever they were together. From the first-rank concubine all the way to the eight-rank tongfangs[4], everyone knew where they stood in Nanping Manor from where they sat.

In a spacious room with light green curtains and dark wood furniture, with the windows covered with the best “Moonlight paper” from the southern market, ru-furenheld the morning greetings. After everyone had gathered, they had taken their places next to their seat, bowing and kowtowing to her before being allowed to sit. Then, they stayed for an hour or two, listening to whatever she had to commend to them or just to chat idly. When it was furen who held the morning greetings, the dynamics were quite different, but in essence the same: all concubines listened to what ru-furen had to say about the household’s affairs and heeded her orders.

Ru-furen, as the only first-rank concubine, took the most honourable position in the left high chair of her hall in furen’s absence. Ru-furen was a young woman around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a bright gaze and white teeth, cloud-like hair and a face like a flower. Like her brother, a beauty hard to find, though no matter how beautiful she was, it was difficult to conceal her ice-like nature.

Wangyue knew her name, but he’d never utter it in her presence because her status was way higher than his own: she had the highest rank a concubine could hold in a harem, the elder sister of houye’s original pairing, and the one in control of all matters in Nanping Manor.

Mu Yanli.

“… are approaching the age. As their masters, we should think of a good outcome for them. Ask if anyone’s family has already found a match for them, and we shall arrange the termination of their indenture,” she was saying.

Ah, yes. The maidservants were reaching the age of marriage, especially the first-rank maids. Buying new servants in and letting old maids out was ru-furen’s recurring task. Errand boys and male servants were much easier to manage, as they usually stayed in the household.

“If I may, ru-furen…” a girl’s timid voice said next to Wangyue. With ru-furen’s nod, she continued, “Xin’er’s father found her a match in their village. She’d like to return home.” The maid standing behind her, Xin-er[5], immediately went forward and kowtowed to ru-furen.

Mu Yanli stayed silent for a moment, clinking idly her teacup’s lid with the rim of the cup. No one dared to speak while she was thinking, not a fly could be heard. Years spent as ru-furen in Nanping Manor made her role and status clear to the rest of them, and not even Rong Jiu could question her authority easily. Wangyue couldn’t help frowning a bit.

Next to him, the girl that had talked shifted in her seat. She was in her early twenties, with a pale, oval face and enticing big eyes, round like the moon.

She was one of the two third-rank concubines of Nanping Manor.

Among the concubines, from the second to fourth ranks there would seem as if they had been divided on whim, since they held the same authority in the household and they were all married in instead of indentured. However, there was a key difference between them, something that made Wangyue stand over them: their families’ status.

Second-rank came from high-standing families, second only to those concubines from the main spouse’s family.

Wangyue himself was the only second-rank concubine. Though he came from the prestigious Jiang family, he was the concubine-born son of the duke’s third cousin, so he had married out of his home instead of making a match as the main spouse himself.

There were only two third-rank concubinesin Nanping Manor, who came from respectable families with no titles and lower official pots. One of them had married in almost at the same time he had, a young man surnamed Ji sent by lady Wang—the only one besides ru-furen capable of holding a decent conversation with Wangyue and regretfully absent this morning. His maid told him he was serving at furen’s bedside, a common occurrence since they had arrived.

The one who sat next to him was Luo Xianxian, the most senior among the concubines. Wangyue held no feelings, neither like nor dislike, for the timid and soft-spoken girl.

Thankfully, there was only one fourth-rank concubine in Nanping Manor, who was moreover absent this morning, to Wangyue’s relief. Rong Jiu’s voice always gave him a terrible headache.

“Send a letter to your family,” ru-furen said directly to Xin-er, who watched her with wide eyes, “and ask them to come here with your fiancé. I will look into him and check his background. If he’s a suitable match, we’ll add two taels of gold to your dowry and let you back home in half a year.”

There was a short moment of shocked surprise from Xin-er’s part. Wangyue himself found it very generous. Most masters simply demanded to have the family pay for the maid’s indenture—if the family wished to have their daughter back, that is.

“My heartfelt thanks to ru-furen. Thank you so much!” Xin-er exclaimed, kowtowing three times to her. Then she shifted to Luo Xianxian and kowtowed three times again. “Xin-er thanks Luo-yiniang[6]! Xin-er won’t forget Luo-yiniang’skindness!”

Luo Xianxian blushed and hurried to make Xin-er stand again, with a pleased smile on her face.

“Every servant in Nanping Manor works hard and contributes invaluably to the household. Even if our master-servant relationship is due to end, we should guarantee that they have a good life after they leave this place,” ru-furen said, setting the cup next to her. “Servants who work well and remain loyal to us shall see their efforts rewarded.”

The rest of the servants in the room had been observing the proceedings out of the corner of their eyes, analysing the situation. At the slightest signal, ru-furen’s servants and a few of the ones standing in the back turned to her and said “yes, ru-furen” with a slight bow.

Wangyue turned a lazy stare at them. At the back of the room stood a few people with their backs glued to the wall. A couple wore better clothes than the rest of them, but they still had to keep their eyes down and their mouth shut.

There was a bunch of concubines indentured to the household, like his own maids. Among them, only Lin Chunhong[7]and Song Ying[8]had enough rank to sit with them, as they had been raised to proper concubines, even if their papers remained indentured. The tongfangs had to stand with the servants or were busy working somewhere else. Wangyue knew two of them, but he had heard that there were actually four.

Wangyue had realised soon after he had married in that for a noble household like Nanping Manor, the backyard was filled with quite many people with low backgrounds.

Such a difference was striking, even if it was fairly common to have more low-rank concubines than respected second-rank concubines like Wangyue. He assumed it was because furen had no family he could bring into Nanping Manor. Lately, he was changing his mind in the light of what he had observed from the cold and aloof man that lived in Honglian House.

“This will be all for today,” ru-furen said, bringing Wangyue out of his thoughts. “Please, keep in mind what I said today. Ling-er,” she called. One tongfangWangyue was familiar with turned and bowed to her. “Bring houye some refreshments a while later. It wouldn’t do if he were to fall ill as well.”

“Yes, ru-furen.”

As they left Cunju[9]House, the building at the left of the main house and right in front of Honglian House, they were met with the sight of furen’s first-rank maid kneeling at his door, her face swollen and reddened, with a split lip and blood dripping down her chin. She no longer cried as she had been when they first arrived to the courtyard, rather staring at the floor with a lost gaze and tears streaming down her face.

“I heard she lost a tooth,” his maid Feicui[10]muttered into his ear.

“Could have been worse,” Wangyue answered plainly.

The marquis had a terrible, but unpredictable temper. Sometimes he’d overlook blatant mistakes, while others he’d put to death a servant for a small infraction. For that reason, most servants tended to avoid him, letting his tongfangs serve him most of the time.

Servants knew better than to cross houye. What had happened? He wondered.

The concubines dispersed, either returning to their rooms in the backyard building, Liuyan House, or going to the gardens. Only Wangyue and a few servants lingered in the pathways around the courtyard.

Wangyue walked languidly, followed by his maid and his servant, observing Honglian House curiously. The imposing building in red wood and grey tiles remained the same as the day before, though the situation was changing. Rumours flew wild that morning during breakfast, that furen was on the brink of death and houye had allowed the doctor Ji-xiaojun had called to attend him. If he were to die, would ru-furen be instated as the new furen?

The doctor had arrived before the morning greetings had even started, but the door of furen’s home was still closed. Was he still inside? Would furen be really that ill?

Wangyue had no desire to get involved in any power play that happened at the household. His own position was secure: he was a concubine taken in with proper rites, his family supported him from outside, and houye favoured him enough to visit him once or twice a week. Only a fool would dare to do anything unnecessary.

Yet he felt troubled when he thought of furen. He remembered the cold and impersonal hands that had taken the teacup from him the first day he had married in.

But those same hands had picked up a baby bird from the floor days ago, in the middle of a storm, just to put it again on its nest.

“Feicui, search for that hundred-year-old ginseng we have in our storage and send it to Honglian House later,” he said, unable to fight down his own discomfort.

At that moment, he saw a familiar figure emerging from the opposite pathway, walking with decision towards Honglian House. A handsome man with a cinnabar dot on his forehead, clad in sky blue robes and long hair flowing behind him, followed by a maid holding a tray with a covered bowl.

Ji-xiaojun, Ji Baihua.

From afar, rooted in his place, Wangyue observed as he knocked on the door. To his surprise, it was houye who opened the door. After exchanging a few words he didn’t hear, houye took the tray from the maid’s hands and closed the door behind him.

The expression on houye’s face… that had been…

Wangyue covered his mouth with his long sleeve, hiding a surprised gasp. It was soon followed by a distraught frown and an inaudible sigh.

If upon contemplating the results, there’s regret at the actions committed in the past, why commit then in the first place? Wangyue kept his eyes locked on Honglian House’s door.

Yearning unwittingly will only break the willow branch.

[1] 夏榕 (xia4rong2): xia as in “summer” and rong as in “banyan tree”. [2] 欣婧 (xin1jing4). Jing as in "slender, modest". [3] 任康 (ren3kang1): ren as in surname Ren, kangas in “health, well-being, peaceful”. [4] To keep it simpler to non-Chinese speakers, concubines are divided in eight ranks (previously with the Chinese names). Don’t worry too much about what it would mean exactly in terms of rights and obligations, it will be explained in the fic. Just that obviously there’s more respect and honor for first rank, and 8th rank tongfangs are little better than servants. For those interested, they would correspond like this: 1st rank is 侧室(ceshi), 2nd rank is 贵妾 (guiqie), 3rd rank is 良妾(liangqie)，4th rank is 贱妾(jianqie)，5th rank is 妾室 (qieshi)，6th rank is 婢妾 (biqie), 7th rank is 陪房(peifang) and 8th rank is 通房 (tongfang). There’s a super-detailed and super helpful post here! (The post isn’t mine, but consider reblogging if you want to support the blogger!). You’ll notice that I skipped some, just so this was more understandable.A status or another usually depended in several factors that all had to be taken into account, it was much more rigid than palace harem status. Like, in a imperial harem, a servant can start as a eight-rank concubine and ascend to the top, but a tongfang won’t be raised to ceshi. A ceshi(and her family) would consider insulting to be married in as a qieshi, and so forth. Usually, a ceshi stayed a ceshi, and a pianfang stayed a pianfang, but the tongfang may rise to qieshi (official concubine, not a servant anymore) if her master likes her very much or she has a merciful furen. Ceshi and pianfangs are married in, so they can be divorced, but not sold, and tongfangs (and sometimes qieshi) can be sold (so no divorce to speak of). The power they had in the household usually grew and decreased with their status, but that’s only in theory, i.e. you don’t bully the concubine your husband is favoring right now. This will be all be explained as well in the fic, this is just a compilation of information. [5] 欣儿 (xin1er): xin as in “happy, joyous” and er as in “child” [6] 姨娘 (yi2niang): form of address for concubines with pianfang and qieshi status. [7] 林春红 (lin2chun1hong2): surname Lin, chun as in “spring” and hong as in “red” [8] 宋莹 (song4ying2): surname Song, ying as in “jade-like, lustrous and clean” [9] 存菊 (cun2ju2): cun as in “store”, ju as in “chrysanthemum” [10] 翡翠 (fei3cui4): feicui means “jade”

I hadn't posted this chapter in tumblr yet! I'm currently working on some style related things about my fic, so I may take a bit longer to post the next one. Hope you enjoy this one meanwhile!

[seanfalco]

The Going Away Party | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

an oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98​

Word Count: 5k Warnings: Smut, Jealousy a/n: The quad’s last night in London before starting a new chapter in their lives.

[ masterlist ]

“Okay, so... is that everythin’?” Win’s Nathan asked, trying to peer over Lyddie’s shoulder at the list in her hand.

"I think so, it's not like it's gonna be a ton of people, the flat can’t really fit more ten people sitting down, fifteen, if they’re standing up..." Lydia murmured, checking the list once again, her people-pleasing reflexes kicking in trying to remember what each of their guests liked. 

"Good thing Natty told us, I'm so happy to help you guys," she mused, following Win's Nathan while texting Win to say they would be home soon.  "I'll miss the Estate. I know we're not going forever, but it feels weird... I've been living here my whole life.

“Yeah, I hear yeh, but it’ll be a nice change of scenery,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, pushing the trolley for her.  “I’m excited for yeh to perform,” he said, flashing her a grin.

"Me too, I think I'm kinda numb at this point, if I actually access my feelings, I might faint," Lydia laughed as she put the groceries on the conveyor.  "Do you think that's enough beer?  Should I get more?" she mused at the four cases in front of them.

“We can tell people t’bring their own too,” Win’s Nathan’s laughed.  “Oh.... shite,” he breathed, quickly ducking down behind Lydia.

"What?" she almost instinctively made a force field around them, but thankfully she held back — that would've been hard to explain.  "Is it someone that tried to kill us?" she asked, looking around.

“No, even worse!” Nathan hissed, the checkout girl giving them a strange look.  “That’s Win’s evil stepmum.  The queen bitch, herself!” he exclaimed, gesturing toward the blonde woman nearby, who bore a rather striking resemblance to her daughter, Delilah.

"Ah, who cares, I'm not scared of her... If she tries me, her and her daughter will have matching scars," Lydia said, bagging the groceries with a chuckle.  "Nothing can ruin my mood today, not even the queen bitch supreme."

“Yeah, y’say that now...” Nathan mumbled, eyeing her warily.  She hadn’t seemed to see them... yet, but with the determined way Lydia was moving, it wouldn’t be long til she noticed them, having just gotten all her bagged groceries back into her own trolley.

"What is she gonna do?  Call the manager and say 'the girl with blue hair assaulted my daughter'?  The worst she can do is bore me to death, you shouldn't be scared of a gold-digging slag with ego problems, you're basically a superhero," Lydia pointed out, turning to kiss him before loading the groceries into the car Simon managed to borrow from their parents.

Win’s Nathan spluttered, but accepted Lyddie’s kiss.  “I guess,” he muttered.  “I don’t always feel like a superhero though.”  As soon as the words would out of his mouth he swallowed thickly, Win’s stepmum having clearly spotted him, her head swiveling his way and suddenly her trolley was changing directions.  He couldn’t see her eyes behind the dark sunglasses she wore, but he swore she was glaring bloody murder at him. 

“You!” she cried, running her trolley right into his shin as he yelped in pain.  “You and you!” she amended, venom dripping from her voice as she turned her glare on Lydia.  “You’re the miscreants that got my Delilah sent to the hospital!” she cried. 

“Oh hi, Karen,” Nathan drawled, “So y’remember me?  I’m flattered!”

"Hey, Karen... name suits you," Lydia added under her breath.  She was probably the only one able to understand the joke from the future, but she didn't care.  "I didn't do anything, Delilah's mouth sent her to the hospital, it wasn't me... and if you touch my boyfriend again you'll see who goes to the hospital next," Lydia growled.  She tried to be civil, but seeing her run into Nathan like that was too much. 

"You okay, sweetie?" she cooed, running her fingers through his curls as he nursed his bruised shin.

“Oh please, he’s fine!” Karen snapped, giving Nathan a disdainful look as he pouted, rubbing at his shin.  “I want you to tell my ungrateful slag of a stepdaughter not to contact us again.  Her father was willing to overlook her past transgressions, which is more than she deserved, honestly, but no longer.  He wishes to have nothing further to do with her and it’s about time.”

"I'll really appreciate if you wash your fucking mouth before talking about my girlfriend," Lydia snapped back, flashing her a hollow grin before taking Nathan's hand to avoid slapping the woman.  "Maybe watch what your own daughter is doing in her spare time.  You know, besides committing crimes, terrorizing children... but it'll be my pleasure, I'll tell Win that her shitty family is finally leaving her alone, she'll be enthused!"

Nathan let Lydia pull him away.  He knew, though, that she was bluffing.  She wouldn’t tell Win what Karen had said, it would hurt Win too much.  She’d always held out hope that her dad might finally come to his senses and try to make up for everything, to be the dad she needed him to be, and anger bubbled up inside him. 

“But what about me?” he called, catching Karen’s attention once more.  “Am I still allowed t’call?  I mean, how else are we supposed to continue our illicit affair, Karen?  You were the best cougar I’ve ever had!  I thought what he had meant somethin’!  And now you’re just throwin’ me away like a old rag?” he cried dramatically, drawing more onlookers’ attention and causing a scene, Karen’s mouth falling open.

"Oh my God!  You're saying that you're cheating on me with this crusty old cunt?" Lydia cried, dramatically falling to her knees, crocodile tears running down her face.  "Tell me now!  She's the one who gave you crabs wasn't she?  WASN'T SHE?” she sobbed, turning next to Win’s stepmum.  

“You homewrecker, I’m pregnant with his child and you stab me in the back, stealing my boyfriend, Karen?  You'll pay for what you did, you monster!"  Lydia knew that would probably end up somewhere in some tabloid, but Karen's expression was absolutely priceless, totally worth the damage control afterwards.

Snickering, Nathan pulled Lyddie to her feet and jumped into the car, leaving Karen gaping after them as people stared and muttered behind their hands. 

“Oh my God, that was priceless!” he laughed. “Lyddie, you were amazing!  Absolute perfection!”

 He knew it wouldn’t be enough to make up for the fact that Win’s dad was finally cutting her off for good, but it had felt good to humiliate Karen one last time.

"Thanks... I gotta practice for my big Broadway debut," Lydia laughed, taking Win's Nathan's face in her hands and kissing him lovingly.  "Once we get home, Winnie can borrow my power and get rid of that bruise — speaking of that!  I don't know what to say to her, she's gonna be devastated; I wanted tonight to be perfect for her."

“Maybe... we shouldn’t tell her?” Nathan ventured hesitantly.  He didn’t want her to be upset either and he had a feeling hearing about this would completely ruin her night.

"Yeah, maybe it's best, at least for now..." Lydia agreed.  "Maybe in New York, if I were to receive bad news, I'd rather be on top of the Empire State than a flat in Wertham."

——

“Jeeze what’s taking them so long,” Win muttered, checking her phone.  She and Lyddie’s Nathan were on decoration duty while Lyddie and her Nathan had gone to the supermarket to grab the food.  Smart idea, Win thought ruefully.  Though Lydia had been teaching her some things, she still struggled in the kitchen and didn’t want to ruin the party with her subpar cooking skills.

With Nathan’s powers and Win borrowing them, it had taken them almost no time at all to decorate the flat for the party.  

"They're shaggin', they have t'be!" Lyddie's Nathan groaned, throwing himself down to the couch.  "It's almost time for the party and they’re shaggin' in her mum's car!"

“Maybe they just got held up,” Win murmured, sitting down next to him on the edge and running her fingers through his hair.  “I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

"Hey, loves!" Lydia exclaimed, shouldering open the door while carrying two huge paper bags under her arms.  "Sorry we took so long, the line was crazy..." 

"The line, uh huh..." her Natha teased, getting up to help.  "Let's pretend I believe you."

“Oh sure, like you weren’t gettin’ frisky with Win while you were waitin’ for us,” Win’s Nathan teased, carrying the beer in.

"How dare you!  We did no such thing!" Lyddie's Nathan gasped.  "We've been workin'..." 

"I wish we had time for that," Lydia mused, looking over at Win's Nathan, he was really sexy dealing with the whole Karen thing earlier.  "But looks like I'll have to wait until after the party, the guests will be here any second."

“Why didn’t we do that?” Win teased, following Lyddie’s Nathan into the kitchen to help unload the food.

"Cause I'm nervous..." he admitted, it was a little scary, every time he remembered he was moving across the world, he felt slightly sick to his stomach.  "But after the party I'll take care o'that," he pushed that fear aside and smiled.

“Aw, Nats,” Win murmured, wrapping her arms around him, momentarily surprised at his moment of vulnerability.  “I’m nervous too,” she whispered.  “But the important thing is we’ll all be together.”

Since the flat was so tiny, they only invited a few people — their closest friends, but Lydia was still freaking out.  Being anxious about being a good host, on top of leaving for New York the next day, on top of the unpleasant (to say the least) encounter from earlier made her run and hide in the bedroom for a moment, not sure if she was doing everything right.

“Hey Lyds, you alright?” Win asked, pushing the door open a hair, having noticed her hurry out of the room.

"I-I don't know... I think I'm having a little bit of a panic attack, but I'll be fine," Lydia assured her, kissing the back of Win's hands.  "Don't worry, baby, go have fun, I'll be right there."

“Are you sure?  I really don’t mind if you want me to keep you company,” Win insisted.

"Maybe just for a second..." Lydia admitted, curling up against Win, trying to breathe properly.  "I love you, Winnie. You’re amazing, you know that?  If anyone ever says you're not, the problem's with them," she insisted heatedly.

“Oh Lyddie, I love you too,” Win murmured, holding her girlfriend while rubbing soothing circles against her back.  “Did someone say I’m not amazing?” she asked with a laugh.

"I just wanted you to know, that's all," Lydia mumbled.  "You're the best girlfriend I could ask for, and I don't ever wanna be without you."  She said, looking up and placing a gentle kiss to Win's lips.

“Oh babe, you’re so sweet,” Win murmured, kissing her back as she caressed her cheek.  “I don’t ever wanna be without you either, Lyddie.”  She could hear the Nathans’ raucous laughter from the other room and was glad they were out there entertaining.  “Everything’s gunna be alright,” Win assured Lydia.  “Like I told Nathan... the most important part is we’ll all be together.”

"Yeah, that's all that matters..." Lydia agreed, getting up.  Before opening the door, she hesitated, looking in the mirror to make sure everything was in place.  "Let's do this." 

"Hey, are you okay, Lyds?" Simon asked, pulling her to the corner as soon as he noticed her coming out of the room. 

"Yeah yeah, don't worry, I was just a little scared, but I feel better now," she smiled.

Win gave Lyddie’s hand a squeeze before Simon pulled her off to the side to talk to her and she waded into the small sea of bodies, looking for a tall curly head.  

“Hey! There yeh are, Winnie,” her Nathan exclaimed, his twin not too far off.  “Where were ya?” 

“I was talking to Lyddie, she got a little overwhelmed, but I think she’s okay now,” she murmured, looking around at all their friends.  Most of them seemed to know her somehow, more like a faint memory, and though it made her a little sad to think about, it was bearable.  At least they knew her at all.

Lydia tried to forget all the foggy thoughts getting in the way and tried to have fun.  The Nathans worked really hard on planning the party, she didn't want to upset them by not enjoying it.  Grabbing a beer, she sat down with the rest of the gang and her partners.  Everyone seemed happy, chatting about anything and everything. 

"So, what are you guys talking about?"

"Not much, just gushing about you," Win answered, leaning into her side as she joined them, resting her head against her shoulder for a moment.

"About me?" Lydia blushed, laughing as she imagined what they could be saying. 

"Yeah, we were talkin' about your sexual prowess with three lovers," her Nathan mocked. 

"Nathan, Jesus Christ..." Simon shook his head with a wince.  "How many times have I told you not to do that?  I don't wanna know!"

"Actually we were talking about the musical, and how excited we are to be spending time in New York again," Win cut in, giving Simon an apologetic grin.

"It feels so odd to think about it, it's like a dream, I'm really excited, you know even in the future there has never been a female Lonny in Rock of Ages, I have no idea how this happened!"  Lydia was always so excited to talk about the musical.  She knew she’d never be able to repay them for getting her to audition.  "Of course, everyone's coming to the City to watch me when the night comes... I need everyone there," she insisted.

"Of course!" Alisha exclaimed excitedly, grabbing onto Simon's arm. 

"Don't worry, we'll make sure everyone's there, Lollipop," Win's Nathan assured her with a grin, his hand resting on her thigh. 

"Win? Hey, Win!"  A voice through the crowd drew her attention and she looked up to see her bandmate, Max making his way over.  She'd been a little surprised that the Nathans' had thought to invite him, but she was glad to see him.

"Max, hey!" she exclaimed, getting up from the couch to greet him with a hug.

"Who's that?" Lydia whispered to her Nathan, feeling just the tiniest hint of jealousy, not that she would ever admit it... 

"That's Max, th’other Nathan had the idea to invite him," he explained.  

Lydia watched that with an indecipherable expression.  She didn't really understand why she felt so off. 

"You alright?" Kelly asked, following Lydia's eyes. 

"Yeah, sure," she answered distractedly, getting up to introduce herself.  "Hey there."

"Hey!" Win exclaimed.  "Oh, that's right, you guys have never been introduced before," she remembered.  "Lyds, this is my bandmate Max.  Max, this is my lovely girlfriend, Lydia," she said, wearing a bright smile.

"Nice to meet you," Lydia murmured,  shaking his hand.  "Make yourself at home, get a drink, a snack... I think I remember seeing you at the music festival that Winnie and I played at together, is that right?" she asked, taking her seat with a smile that made Simon and Lyddie's Nathan exchange a look. 

“What's wrong with her?” Simon mouthed while Nathan shrugged, but he was wondering the same thing.

Win frowned as Lydia hurried away again before even really waiting for Max's response, but she couldn't exactly ask her about it right then. 

"Hey, Win, d'you think we could go somewhere quieter?” Max asked, interrupting her thoughts.  “There’s, uhh... there's something I need to talk to you about.” 

"Uh, yeah, sure..." Win said awkwardly, looking around for a quiet spot.  She didn’t exactly like the sound of that.

"I don't like him," Lydia announced suddenly, bouncing her leg nervously as she sat back down. "Not one bit..." 

"Aww, is someone jealous?" her Nathan teased, poking her playfully. 

"So what if I am?" she demanded, folding her arms. 

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Peanut..." Simon took her hand. 

"Yeah, the Nathans should be jealous, but you're much hotter than that guy," Alisha assured her with a grin. 

"I feel like I should be offended, but I don't exactly understand why," Lyddie's Nathan muttered with a twist of his lips.

"Don't worry, Lollipop, I may have been a little jealous of the guy back in th'day, but he's good people.  Surprisingly," Win's Nathan exclaimed. 

"C'mon, we can talk on the balcony," Win suggested, opening the sliding door and ushering Max outside.  "So, what did you wanna talk about, Max?" 

"It's actually somethin' I've been wanting to tell you for a while, and when I heard you were leaving to go to the States... well, I couldn't put off telling you any longer.”

Oh no, Win thought with a grimace.  This can’t be good.

“Winrey, I'm in love with you," Max blurted out, taking her hand. 

"What?" Win exclaimed in response, nearly ripping her hand from his.

"I've been in love with you for years, don't you remember that night we spent together once? Didn't that mean something to you?"

"Being 'good people' doesn't stop him from hitting on our girlfriend..." Lydia huffed. "Did you see the way he looked at her?  I'm telling you, I have an eye for these things." 

"Win has three partners, I think that's more than enough," Kelly laughed. 

"Wow, Lollipop, haven't seen you like this ever since Ruth..." Lyddie's Nathan taunted. "Remember?" 

"Yeah, granny fucker, very funny!" Lydia replied, shifting slightly closer to the balcony to hear their conversation.

"Max, what the fuck are you talking about?" Win exclaimed.  “I never slept with you!”

“I know we were pretty drunk that night, but you have to remember.”

“Oh my God,” Win groaned.  It must have been the other her, the one originally from this timeline before she showed up.

"I'm already in a relationship.  Please don't do this, Max," she begged, saying anything to get him to back off. 

"Do what?  C'mon Win, I know you feel something for me too." 

"Max, I—" Win sighed, unsure what else to say.  This was not the conversation she wanted to be having right now, or ever to be honest.  Max was her best friend outside of the ASBO group, and she didn't want to lose him, but there was no way she was gunna jeopardize her relationship for him, for something she didn’t do.  

"Just, please Win—" Before she could react he leaned in to kiss her.

In a flurry of events the sliding door suddenly flew open and Lydia’s angry voice echoed over the Estate.  "BACK THE FUCK OFF MY GIRLFRIEND" she cried, fuming.  

The two Nathans looked at each other surprised, Lyddie wouldn't act like that without a reason... she must've heard or seen something they didn’t. 

"You come to my flat, in the middle of my party, and you try to kiss my fucking girlfriend?  What the fuck, man?" she shouted angrily.  The rest of the gang was taken back, Simon’s eyes widening — it had been a long time since he'd seen his sister that angry. 

Turns out she did have a good eye for that stuff. 

"Get the fuck out!" Lydia snapped, pointing at the door.  "I've had a pretty hard day, I don't need this shit.  Take the hint and leave."

"But, Win, please?" Max stuttered, hesitating. 

"Max, I'm sorry, but you need t'leave," Win said, giving him a pointed look.  For a moment she didn't think he was going to, but finally he stormed out and Win slumped into the nearest chair, hiding her face in her hands.

"Very well done, Nathan, brilliant!" Lydia snapped at both of them, thought they couldn't have possibly known this was going to happen. "Very memorable last night in England!" she cried, throwing her hands up. 

She wasn't mad at Win, of course not, it wasn't her fault, though the thought of her — any version of her — sleeping with him made Lyddie's stomach churn and she slumped down next to Winnie. 

"Hey, it's okay," she whispered.  "I'm so sorry this happened, I... wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

"It's not your fault, Lyddie," Win murmured, completely embarrassed.  "I'm so sorry, I didn't think he'd... I had no idea he felt that way," she said, squeezing her eyes shut.  "I'm gunna... uh, I'll be right back—“  Before anyone could say anything more Win made a b-line for the bedroom, away from everyone's prying eyes.

Lydia was pretty much used to sharing her entire life with the gang, but she’d known them for a long time, Win had only known them since Community Service and she suddenly felt bad for making such a scene in front of everyone. "

“Winnie, baby," Lyddie exclaimed, hurrying to the door and knocking gently.  "Can I come in?  I just wanna talk and hold you, I'm sorry for all the yelling, I just couldn't help it."

“Yeah, you can come in,” Win said, her voice muffled.  As soon as Lydia shut the door behind her Win quickly scrubbed at her eyes, trying to hide her tears.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea he felt that way... I can’t believe he tried to kiss me— I can’t believe he actually thought I’d leave you guys for him.  I’m just... I’m sorry, I don’t want you t’think—“  She shook her head and sank to the bed.

"There's nothing you could've done, baby, it was completely delusional of him to come here and pull this stunt," Lydia joined Win in bed and pulled her close.  "I love you, I would never judge you because of that.  I was really jealous and I embarrassed you, I'm so sorry about that."

“You were jealous?” Win asked softly, glancing over, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah, of course..." Lyddie felt her cheeks burn slightly.  "I saw th’way he looked at you, I saw you hugging him, I was bloody jealous."

“Aw babe,” Win drawled, her embarrassment forgotten for the moment.  “Is it terrible that I kinda like that?  It makes me feel special,” she laughed.  “I’m sorry, I’m terrible.”

"No, you're not terrible and you are special..." Lydia felt happy for being able to make Win smile after that shitshow.  "I just love you too much, and thinking about someone else with you made me lose it, you're mine."

“Someone other than a Nathan?” Win teased.  “I like how fiery you got babe, it was pretty hot,” she admitted, sliding her hand along Lyddie’s jaw as she leaned in to kiss her.

"I've never seen you get jealous over me..." Lydia mused, kissing her back, one hand firmly squeezing her thigh.  "But that's good to know, I should get jealous over you more often," she joked.

“I’ve been jealous before,” Win admitted softly between kisses.  “Though it wasn’t like some asshole was about to try to shove his tongue down your throat,” she said with a small laugh. “But I’ve definitely been jealous,” she said.  “It’s usually when fans flirt with you and you don’t realize it, or when guys at the bar check you out...”

"Yeah you're right, it does feel good," Lyddie murmured, using her thigh to part Win's legs, as she pushed her back, grinding against her.  "To know that you're scared of losing me, it's cute..." she moved to kiss Win's neck.  "I think we might be getting a little outta hand here, do you want me to stop?"

“No, please don’t stop,” Win moaned, tilting her head for Lyddie to keep kissing her neck.

“Win, are you oka—?!” her Nathan exclaimed, cutting off as soon as he saw Lyddie with her. “Oh! I... sorry.  I came t’check on yeh... I knew that guy was bad news!”

"Hey, go on, sit down," Lydia bit her lip.  "That is if you'd like to watch…” she drawled before turning her attention back to her girlfriend.  "Don't worry, we'll be back at the party in no time, but you gotta be quiet, okay, Winnie?" Lydia purred next to her ear, one of her hands sliding under Win's shirt as her thigh kept rubbing against her girlfriend's sex.  "Come on, baby, you know what to do..."

Win nodded, careful not to make a noise as she reached for her Nathan who joined them without having to be told twice.

"So beautiful like this..." Lyddie breathed before capturing Win's lips, one hand sliding between her legs, gathering her arousal as lube to tease her clit.  "Say you're mine, Winnie," she commanded.

“I’m yours, Lyddie,” she breathed, her breath catching, and she rolled her hips against her hand.

"You're so good, baby," Lydia pumped one finger inside of her while nipping at the tender skin of her neck.  "I love you so much."

“I love you too, please Lyddie,” Win whimpered, jumping as she felt Nathan’s thumb circle her clit as Lydia’s fingers pumped into her.  “Oh—“ she sighed, writhing at the pleasure that coursed through her at such two simple touches.

"Please what?  You wanna come for us?  Is that what you want, baby?  Cause I wanna watch you..." Lyddie added another finger, moving faster, while leaving a trail of hickeys down Win's neck.

“Yes, please, I’ll be quiet,” Win whined, threading her fingers in Lyddie’s hair, her other hand seeking Nathan’s.

"Good girl, come for me," Lyddie smirked, by now all the anxiety and sadness had faded, the only one she could focus on was Win.

As if Lyddie’s words were a switch Win climaxed, her body tensing as pleasure took over and she was floating for a moment.  When she came down from her high, her chest heaving, she looked up at her two lovers and gave a tremulous smile.  “I love you both, so much.”

"I love you too," Lydia licked her fingers clean and gently kissed Win's forehead.  "Are you ready to go back?  Can't leave Natty out there by himself for too long," she laughed.

“Yeah, you go on, I’ll be there in a sec,” Win murmured, sitting up, her eyes trailing over to her Nathan who seemed rather quiet.

"Okay," Lyddie stole one last kiss before leaving.  When she came out, she found exactly what she expected: Nathan being Nathan, cracking jokes and pulling tricks that only made everyone roll their eyes, while Lydia laughed.

“Did you ever have a thing with Max?” Win’s Nathan asked quietly. 

“No,” Win answered truthfully.  “He’s a good friend, but I never thought of him that way.  Though,  if what he said tonight is to be believed, apparently my clone from this timeline did…”

Nathan nodded reluctantly.  “Guess he’s been in love with you ever since, huh?  Or at least… well, you know...” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Win murmured.  “This is just so fucked up.” 

“I know,” Nathan exclaimed, reaching for her and Win let him pull her into his arms.  “But it’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I’m still sorry...” she insisted, her words muffled against his shirt. 

“Y’got nothin’ to be sorry for.  I’m sorry he did that t’yeh.” 

Win stayed there for a long time, just letting Nathan hold her.  

“C’mon, let’s go back out there and put all this behind us, huh?  Don’t wanna keep our lovely Lyddie waitin’,” Nathan said, pulling Win to her feet. 

“Yeah, definitely not,” Win agreed, seeming better, and they left the room to rejoin the party.

"So you were right about Max after all," Lyddie's Nathan let his head rest on her lap while they all watched a movie.  

"Yeah, as usual..." she teased.  "But I thought you were used to it by now."  She grinned as Win and the other Nathan joined them.  It felt so odd to know that tomorrow she would have to say goodbye to all their friends and her home. 

"Hey, Simon?" a voice came from the door, Max having left it ajar as he’d left and Lydia looked at her brother, tears springing to her eyes as she recognized the voice. 

"In here, dad!" he called. 

"I was hoping this was the right address, you know how I am sometimes..." 

"Yeah," Lyddie laughed as she shed a tear. 

"The car, right... I'll get the keys.  Dad, you remember my friend Lyddie, right?" Simon asked, taking her hand as he got to his feet.  "She's going to the US tomorrow to perform on Broadway." 

"Wow, that's amazing!  Congratulations!  I remember how talented you are," he exclaimed, holding his hand out to shake hers, but instead Lydia threw her arms around him.

Win watched Lydia hug her dad from her spot on the couch and she was overcome with a sudden wave of emotion. She really wished that Lyddie could tell him the truth about her identity some day.  She wanted her to be happy.  And a part of her wished that she and her own dad could work things out.  For a moment she thought about giving him a call, but what would she say?

"Do you wanna stay?  We have plenty of food and beer," Lydia asked hopefully, fixing her hair to cover the birthmark on her shoulder.  

"Thank you, but I can't, I'm supposed to pick my daughter up at the library.  It's getting a little late, don't want her walking around alone." 

"Yeah, that's... yeah, it's dangerous at night, thanks for dropping by," Lydia stumbled over her words. 

"Well, congrats again on the Broadway thing," he said, giving Lydia a tender look and waved at the rest of the guests.  "Have a good night you lot, sorry for interrupting your party," he chuckled before leaving. 

"Goodbye," Lydia waved back, falling into her Nathan's lap. "—Dad," she added softly after he’d already left.

Win looked over as Lyddie returned, slipping her hand in hers without a word and giving her a squeeze.  “Can I get you anything?” she asked.

"Just a hug," Lydia murmured, wiping the tears from her face as she took Win in her arms.  "Let's just finish the movie, yeah?"

“Of course, babe,” Win murmured, pulling Lydia into her arms.  As they watched the movie, the Nathans cracking jokes and quoting random lines Win idly ran her fingers through Lyddie’s hair, feeling strangely at peace, despite how the evening had gone.

———————-

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @santacarlahorrorshow @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator  @spanishmossmagnolia @salvador-daley @forenschik @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @vonkimmeren  @violetrainbow412-blog

[oloreaa]

Vencuyanir - Prologue

vencuyanir [ven-COO-yah-neer]: sustain, keep alive, preserve

Summary: About to be taken away from Arvala-7, Elana only has two objectives: keeping Bean alive and getting away from the Mandalorian

Words: 2.8k

Notes: This is the first longer series I have attempted in years, and I am so excited for this! Also the entire story is the most self indulgent enemies-to-lovers slow-burn I’ve ever planned and written so hopefully you’ll like it as well! Elana is an OC with Chinese features (+ my personal face claim), but I won’t be physically describing her a lot, so hopefully you could still see this as kinda “reader”

Warnings: canon-typical violence (death, gun violence), (implied) past child abuse, hostages/(implied) slavery

▪ Masterlist ▪ Vencuyanir ▪  Next ▪

……………

"Bean?" Elana called out, looking for the little child. He was currently hidden from her, in some place she could not find. Yet.

The hide-and-seek session she had initiated to stave off the boredom had turned into a nightmare. Elana had no idea where Bean would be, and she did not wanted to go and ask the Niktos outside. They were already barely tolerating her.

After Alderaan was destroyed a few years back she had drifted around the galaxy, and by chance, was approached by a friendly looking woman who told her that there was a well-paying, low maintenance job on a Outer Rim planet called Arvala-7 waiting for her. She took it without hesitation, and not a thought was spared about how such an opportunity was too good to be true.

Well, it definitely was not well-paying.

She barely got any of the money she was promised, which was why she was stuck on Arvala-7, guarded by Niktos that fended off the bounty hunters that appeared every few days.

The reason for her job? A baby. Elana was hired to take care of a small baby, which was not what she had pictured, at all.

But after taking just one look at the small green child with the huge dark eyes and even larger ears, she fell in love. It could be a maternal instinct, or maybe it was her own soft heart that made her fiercely protective of him. There was an instant connection the moment she entered the room he was in, the baby reaching out towards her as soon as he set his eyes on her, babbling incessantly. For lack of better words, there was a bond of sorts between them. Elana could feel, even pinpoint sometimes what the little bean was sensing, and knew that he was the same with her.

A soft coo finally alerted Elana to Bean's position, him giving himself away since he grew bored. She hurried to him, and scooped him up, heart beating fast in her chest.

"There you are, honey," she sighed in relief, tracing his large petal ears with a gentle finger. He cooed at her and patted at her face with his three fingers, claws not yet sharp enough to break skin. He grabbed at the end of her braid and put it in his mouth. Elana carefully took it out again, and quickly snatched a wooden toy he could gnaw on. The child wrapped his claws around it quietly, and started nibbling, big trusting eyes blinking up at her.

Elana tried not to think about it too much because it broke her heart, but all the signs were there. Bean was too quiet. He did not make many noises. And if he did, only when it was absolutely necessary.

He did not ask for food or water. He ate quickly and left no crumbs anywhere. He did not flinch when a blaster shot rang through the air, but did when someone moved too fast near him. She really wished that her suspicions were wrong, but Bean exhibited behaviour that was proof of him being mistreated before she had come along.

Bean cooed softly, nuzzling her arms, and smiled at her. The sight was adorable.

"Let's get you something to eat, all right?" Elana said, bouncing him on her hip, and set off towards the kitchen.

The Niktos have provided them with food and shelter, as well as weapons for defense, like blasters and some knives. Elana did not really know how to use them, beyond how to pull a trigger and stab someone with the pointy end. And that was it. It was not as if any of the Niktos bothered to teach her. She knew maybe a quarter of them by name, the rest by sight, but it was purely a business-like relationship.

Without Bean, she would have been utterly alone on Arvala-7. To be fair, she would not even be there if it was not for Bean, but she would not have it any other way. The little area they were given to live in consisted of a small kitchen, a bath, and a bedroom where the pram for Bean was located. It was not much, but enough.

Enough to survive.

She had no reason to complain, Elana often reasoned with herself, she had a roof over her head, cooling systems for the scorching days and heaters for the cold nights. She was given enough food and clothes to sustain herself and the little one she cared for. Even if Elana had no idea why she was actually there. She knew not the names of those who hired her, she did not know the reason why so many people sought to take Bean, why they were not even close to stopping after months of a constant stream of bounty hunters, all trying their luck.

Shaking those thoughts away, she returned to her original task of going to the kitchen.

The ration packets were stored in a drawer, and she noticed with a frown that the amount was steadily dwindling. It would still be enough for over a week, but it was definitely something that the Niktos should know about. They would get some more on their next supply run off the planet. Grabbing a small packet of rehydratable meat, and adding some water to a small pot, Elana prepared a simple meal for Bean. Then she heated water in another pot and made herself a cup of tea.

Bean sat upright in his stool, and watched her with curious, intelligent eyes. He babbled excitedly when she finished stirring, ears wiggling, making Elana smile.

The little child ate slowly as she fed him, blinking up at her and cooing. She cooed right back, and he smiled brightly, little teeth catching the light.

"You like the food? The consistency is nice, huh?"

He babbled, feet kicking slightly.

Suddenly, there was a shot outside. Elana whipped her head around, promptly positioning herself in front of Bean. More shots followed. Bounty hunters again.

She knew the drill already, so she quickly scooped Bean up and placed him in his pram. The baby was silent, staring up at her with big eyes, and a feeling of fear creeped along their bond. That was when she knew that something was wrong, that something was different from the other times. The shooting was still continuing, going on for longer than usual. There were too many shots for it to be only one bounty hunter, there had to be more than before, a small army?

A Nikto, who she recognized as Heku, ran inside the small quarters, two blasters in his hand.

"You stay here," he told her with his accented Basic, a frown on his face. "These are different hunters."

Elana nodded, eyes wide, and went to the pram, not closing it yet, before nudging it towards the wall, so it would be out of the way.

Heku looked over his shoulder before putting a blaster in her hand. "Doesn't look good," he said, "shoot them if they get in."

With those words, he ran outside again, leaving Elana reeling. If they get in? That had never happened before, not even close. Normally, all two dozen of the Niktos were enough to dispatch any bounty hunters.

The front door, made of sturdy durasteel closed with a screech while the sound of blaster fire rang through the air, the shots now muffled through it. Elana fumbled with the weapon in her hand, heart beating a staccato, shoulders squared.

It was becoming louder outside; they seemed to have set up some kind of blaster gun that was shooting in the direction of the housing camp.

Clenching her jaw tightly, she clutched the blaster in her shaking hands. They were right outside. Elana could hear the blaster shots, the screams of the Niktos who were defending Bean and her, the sounds of a brutal fight going on just a few meters away from them. The pram was right behind her, and Bean was silent, watching with wide eyes.

"It's all right, Bean", Elana heard herself say, doing her best not to panic. "I'll protect you."

Her heart was thumping hard in her chest and she feared that she would become dizzy. The nauseating feeling of helplessness creeped up Elana's throat and she honestly did not know what to do.

Fight them? Laughable. Elana was barely able to shoot straight. Negotiate with them? Probably not even that. Most of the time the hunters were gunned down quickly, and it would have been the only thing worth mentioning on that particular day. But this? They were mowing down the Niktos like it was nothing, and the chance of the Niktos getting them was dwindling with every shot.

Bean and her had to stay together no matter what. Hopefully, they were bounty hunters who would take them alive and she could go with Bean as his caretaker. As long as the both of them were together, they stood a chance.

It was going to be fine. It would be fine.

"No matter what, I'll stay with you," she told Bean, looking at him with desperation. Pulling the tiny child near her, Elana kissed his forehead, eyes scrunched together, trying to keep the tears from escaping.

Bean did not make a sound, but she swore he could understand what was happening.

The shots stopped.

She closed the pram, hands shaking.

One Nikto ran in, blaster in hand. He nodded at her before positioning himself behind one of the pillars. Elana held her breath, heart in her chest. They shot at the door. They actually used blaster bolts to get through the door. When it collapsed inwards, she was surprised that there were only two bounty hunters. An IG-unit bounty droid and- was that a Mandalorian?

Elana froze. Oh no.

If it was a Mandalorian, then her chances of getting out alive were very small indeed.

The Nikto tried to shoot at him but with lightning fast speed and uncanny precision the Mandalorian made short work of him with a single shot.

"Anyone else?" came the wry rhetorical question, crackled through a modulator.

She pulled the trigger.

It actually hit him, glanced off his pauldron with a ping. Elana had no time to celebrate her little victory however, as blaster bolts suddenly rained down on her, and she lunged behind the pillar, seeking shelter, shoulders hunched up. The dust and smoke made it hard to see, but she could make out a blaster bolt was uncomfortably near Bean's pram, and panic welled up in her. "Cease fire! I surrender!" she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing herself into the pillar some more.

"Cease fire, please!"

They stopped shooting.

Elana closed her eyes, fighting off her tears. This is it. "Don't shoot, I'm coming with you," she said as soon as she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I'm the one you're looking for." Stepping out from behind her pillar, palms raised in surrender, heart beating fast, she blinked up at the two bounty hunters, subtly shielding Bean's pram in the process.

The Mandalorian's tracking fob was pointed at her, through her. Maybe, hopefully she could play it as if she was the bounty. Maybe they could leave Bean in peace. There must have been someone who had survived, right? They could take care of Bean. She would gladly suffer for more than a hundred lifetimes if it meant that Bean would be safe.

Breathing hard, trembling like a leaf, she tried to suppress her tears, scared to death. "Please, don't kill me, I'll go with you," she got out, voice shaky. Please let them think that I am the bounty.

The droid's head whirled around to Elana and she could not help her flinch. The Mandalorian stood rigidly, his helmet tilted down at her menacingly. He stepped closer, the fob trained on her, beeping rapidly.

"Identify yourself. You are not the bounty," the droid commanded.

She gulped, feeling ice cold. "Elana Lissiri," she choked out, throat not properly working. So there went the chance of properly protecting Bean.

"Step aside," the Mandalorian told her, voice low and raspy. She shook her head, vision blurring, trying to stay in the way of them, but the Mandalorian grabbed her wrist efficiently, and turned her around, twisting her arm against her back. Elana grimaced in pain, and struggled against him briefly.

"Step aside or I'll make you," he threatened, and she felt a blaster poking between her shoulder blades.

For a split second, Elana thought about doing something reckless like stomping on his feet or freeing herself somehow, but then let herself go limp. She would not do Bean any favors if she got herself shot, and he was too strong to overpower anyways. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, internally begging for forgiveness.

The tracking fob in the Mandalorian's hand was loud in her ears, every beep made dread curl in her belly and her chest seize up. He shoved her aside roughly when it was clear that she had been shielding the pram. The IG-unit behind him raised its blasters and stalked towards Bean's hiding place. The Mandalorian cuffed her against a pipe sticking out of the wall, securing one wrist so she would not escape.

"Don't hurt him, please, Maker, please don't," Elana begged, sinking to her knees. Trying her best to shield how terrified she was from their bond, she sent out as much warmth as she could to the little child. Both bounty hunters moved closer to Bean, the Mandalorian pressing the button in the centre of the pram.

It opened with a hiss, and she could see how Bean sat up, ears raised and head tilted in interest.

"He is just a baby," Elana whispered, willing the tears to stay at bay, "Just a baby, please don't kill him." Elana couldn't tear her eyes away from the tiny green child, certain that that was it. They would kill them both. She took in the soft petal ears, the big dark eyes, the tiny, adorable button nose for what was probably the last time, and tried not to cry. She loved the little one. She loved him so much.

"Wait. They said fifty years old", she barely registered the Mandalorian speaking, his voice rough like gravel.

"Species age differently", the IG-unit replied. "Perhaps it could live many centuries."

"Please." Breath ragged, she looked up at the bounty hunters. "Please, I'll do anything, but don't kill him."

Bean leaned forward, big eyes curious, pushing down his blanket to get a better view of the newcomers. A questioning feeling ran along their bond. Elana's heart nearly broke in two.

"Sadly, we'll never know." The IG unit raised its blaster, and she tried to get in front of the pram without success, straining against the cuff. The Mandalorian stopped the droid before the blaster was fired, though. It was a cruel, cruel thing, giving her a moment of hope that the child would survive. Breath ragged, she tried to stop the panicked noises rising in her throat.

"No. We'll bring it in alive."

"The commission was quite specific," the IG-unit said, "The asset was to be terminated."

Elana closed her eyes, shaking like a leaf now. Not Bean, she thought, despair rolling off her in waves, please, not my Bean. She tried to get to the pram again, rattling at the cuff with all her strength, not caring when it hurt and cut into her skin.

A shot rang out.

She gave a full body flinch, hunching into herself. But the bond was not broken. Nor did she feel any pain or fear.

The bond was not broken.

They didn't kill Bean.

Elana looked up, eyes wide, head full of questions.

The IG-unit fell to the ground with a thud. Smoke rose from the central processing unit. She stared at it before shifting her gaze to the other bounty hunter.

The Mandalorian seemed to be transfixed by Bean. He reached out a finger hesitantly, and after a second, Bean reached back, letting out a delighted coo.

Elana blinked in confusion. Bean likes him? Something about their interaction struck her deeply, and the bond between Bean and her suddenly swelled, as if something clicked into place.

The Mandalorian's helmet then snapped around to her, and she flinched again. "Are you its caretaker?" he asked gruffly. Elana barely managed to nod, scared out of her wits.

He was quiet for a long time, his presence alone enough to make her hold her breath. Then he walked over, and took off her cuff more gently than she would have expected from a bounty hunter.

She looked up at him, shaking in fear, the visor glaring down menacingly. A low command came from him, causing shivers to run down her back.

"Pack your things."

……………

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!

Also a HUGE thank you at my beta @mndalorians, Cass had listened to me ramble so much about this story and helped me with so many scenes and I love her. Pls check out her stories as well, she has beautiful fics!

Tags: @binggrae-banana-milk @b0n-chann @pisss-offf-ghostt @chibi-liz05 @din-damn-djarin @soldade @yourexcellentboiiii @chaotic-noceur @ezrasarm @hdlynn @mndalorians @over300books @agirllovespasta

[modern-vellichor]

Grief, is a Beautiful Thing

Stage Two: Anger

Warnings: Grief!! Mentions of death, suicide. Loss of a major character. Battles with depression, silent tears, heart and gut wrenching sadness, minor smut just to keep you on your toes.

Series Masterlist

Anger; a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.

Eventually, after weeks of watching the front door with a longing look in your eyes, after weeks of keeping Steve's things untouched, after weeks of waiting up at night for him, you realised, maybe, he isn't coming back. You were mad.

You were angry at Steve, angry at him for lying to you, for leaving you. You were furious at him for leaving you cold and broken and empty and thinking you were strong enough to pick yourself back up again.

You were angry at Bucky for trying. He was always there for you, calming you, telling you everything was okay, and it wasn't, it really wasnt.

You and Steve never argued, never in public anyway. God, if you could see him now, you would scream and shout and make sure he knew how wrong he was, how much you hated him right now. How could he do this to you.

You had disobeyed direct orders on a mission. Steve told you to hold back, but you saw and opportunity, and you took it, it was the right decision. Sure, you got stabbed a few times, but you got what you needed, quicker too.

"I can't believe you, Y/N. I gave you a direct order and you didn't follow it. Look at you now, you could have died"

You rolled your eyes at the love of your life, sighed, and stood up, blood trickling through your fingers clutched to your side.

"With all due respect, Captain, I did what had to be done, and it worked. So don't criticize my decisions", you only called him Captain when you were raging, when you thought he didn't even deserve the acknowledgment of a name.

"You are hurt, you went against me. I could ruin your career for that stunt"

"You wouldn't dare, don't lie to yourself"

"God, you're so fucking full of yourself, Y/N"

"excuse me?", you scoffed, eyebrows raised. Steve immediately regretted his words, uttering hurried apologies. "You know what, Cap, I am full of myself. I'm such a narcissist, such a bad person, huh. Where did our little golden boy go wrong, ending up with a good for nothing gal like me, huh?"

As if right on time, the jet had landed, so you made a grand exit, waltzing off the jet with your head held high, and tears in your eyes.

You couldn't go to your own room, not where the sheets smelled of him, not where his things sat snug next to yours. So you knocked on Bucky's door, he let you in without hesitation. He walked you to his bed, he held you as you cried, cradled you until you slept. He tucked you in under blankets that smelled like coconut, gun powder, and whiskey.

So as you lay, head buried into a pillow that smelt like Steve, tears staining soft satin, you thought about doing the exact same thing.

You picked yourself up, untangling yourself from the sheets, bare feet padding to the elevator. Straight to Bucky's door.

knock knock knock. gentle and soft, barely audible.

"doll?", he was half asleep in his doorway.

"hey, buck", you muttered, smiling sadly.

"what's up?"

"I can't sleep in there, Bucky. I can't do it. I swear to god, hes everywhere", you sobbed.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his room, into his bed. For once, you welcomed the cooing and the soft touches. You appreciated the way he cradled your face in his hands as you cried, catching tears with his thumbs as he watched you fall apart. He was holding you together, his legs tangled with yours, his lips uttering sweet redemption into your hair, hands softly drawing circles on your back.

You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around him in return, you pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in, soaking him up. This was what you need right now, and you fell asleep bathed in the warmth of his bare soul.

Bucky's eyes opened to you making your way out of his room. He sighed, hands reached out to you, lazily.

"why are you up so early, doll?", he checked the clock. 05:57am.

"I gotta work"

"you really gotta take some time off, you're gonna work yourself to death, especially in your form"

You gave him a small smile, "I'll be fine, Barnes. Go back to sleep"

He happily obliged, rolling over and closing his eyes, hearing the far away click of his door closing.

You locked yourself in your office the entirety of the day, making angry phone calls to people who just wouldn't listen, pacing as you waiting on stats to come through, filing reports, organising mission after mission, without even considering a break.

Bucky knocked on your door around 6, pushing it open softly.

"Hey, Barnes. What is it?", you asked, not looking up from your computer as your fingers danced quickly across the keys.

"Its dinnertime, come eat"

"I'm not hungry, but thank you"

"Y/N", you answered his calls, not taking your eyes off the screen. "Y/N, look at me, for God's sake"

You slammed the laptop shut, eyeing him up and down dangerously. Sure, Bucky Barnes might be able to snap your neck with his little finger, but he couldn't break a man down like you could. He couldn't stare at people so hard it bore holes in their skulls, he couldn't exude power like you did, he couldn't tear into someone's soul with spiteful words and a harsh tone, not like you.

"What was that? I'm looking now, Mr. Barnes, please, embarrass yourself further, you have my full attention", you smiled at him, but it was sly and condescending.

"You haven't eaten all day, you need to eat"

"I need to do my job, and I think you've forgotten that I am, in fact, your superior, so get out of my office", with that, you opened the laptop again, and continued on with your furious typing.

Bucky didn't budge, he knew you could get irritable on a good day, and good days usually didn't involve dying, being resurrected, losing half your team, and taking over Stark Industries.

"Y/N, please, come on. You're being irrational"

"And you're forgetting your place, you always do. I care about you, Buck, but now is not the time to be sticking your nose in places it doesn't belong, go annoy Sam or something, I don't have the time for you"

You stood up and ushered him to your door, with a hand on the handle, you gazed at him with a harsh stare.

"Have a goodnight, Barnes, stay out of my office"

You swung the door closed, if slammed shut mere inches away from Bucky's nose.

You avoided him like the plague for the next few days, not meeting his gaze, not uttering his name. You spent all your time locked in your office, not saying anything to anyone, until you had to.

You called a meeting, the pathetic remains of your team gathered around you. A teenage boy, a bird man, a god of thunder and an ex assassin walked into a room, what a wild joke.

You briefed them, you flew them out to the hotel, nicer than the last one you stayed in. You could only get three rooms, Sam got one to himself, he won rock, paper, scissors.

The awkward silence had settled thick and heavy between you and Bucky, sat on your own separate beds, neon light filtering in through the curtain.

"I think it's your turn to tell me a story", that was the first thing he had said to you in days, you were shocked, a little taken aback.

"what?"

"The last time you and I were in a hotel room, you asked for a story, and I gave you one. I want a story."

"oh", you chuckled, "what about?"

He thought for a minute, shifting to face you, blue eyes bright and playful.

"a boy"

You both laughed, all remnants of anger and spite evaporating. This was exactly like Bucky, make everything better with a joke and a laugh.

"I don't really have stories about boys. I was only 18 when I started with Stark. I met Steve when I was 23-"

"How did you meet Steve?", he cut in. You realised then, no one had ever told Bucky that story.

"He never told you?", Bucky shook his head in response.

"Well-"

You met Steve before Thanos, before Bucky, before Ultron even. You were young,

You walked with purpose across the dirt and sand, General Sanchez struggling to keep up as he briefed you. You were in an old army uniform, one that had once belonged to a friend, it was a little tight but it made do.

"Ms. Y/L/N, you said you called backup?", he asked, hesitant.

"I did", on cue, the quinjet handed some feet ahead, and Tony stepped out. "and there he is"

Tony started to walk alongside you and the General, the team walking a few feet behind you.

"Stark, pleasure seeing you again"

"same goes for you, Y/N, what's happening"

"ever seen Godzilla?"

These creatures had been popping up around coasts all over the world, a couple even had gone as far as peaking tails out of the water, ridges on their backs visible deep below the surface. All you knew is that they were massive, monstrously big, and dangerous. They had been testing the waters, seeing how ready you were for an attack, and today was the day. According to radar scans, the biggest off them all had showed up off the coast of L.A, so here you were.

Steve couldn't help but stare at you, walking tall and dignified, head held high, voice strong and authoritative. Even as you were bleeding out on the floor, cheek swollen, lip cut, eyes blackened, he thought you were beautiful, angelic.

"Really?", Bucky laughed. You just nodded, saddened by the distant memory. "you guys always seemed so, settled"

"once upon a time we were running around like kids, sneaking into empty offices to make out like horny teenagers. We settled down eventually", bitterness was evident in your voice as you spoke. You missed those days, running around with Steve's hand in yours. He had really ruined hand holding for you.

"You wanna know what Steve said to me on our first date?", you asked, breath trembling and voice shaky, tears brimming in your eyes.

"sure..", he spoke hesitantly, not sure if that was the right answer or not.

"He said, "you remind me of a girl I knew back in the war", the same girl he left me for. He fell in love with me because I reminded him of a dead girl."

You and Bucky ducked behind a car, both of you officially out of ammunition. You sighed, looking around for any form of weapon as bullets came ricocheting towards you.

"If this is how we go, I'm gonna be pretty fucking pissed", he scoffed, always making a joke.

"me too, Buck"

Your eyes scanned the ground desperately, Bucky was trying to get to Sam, Thor, even Peter, but the comms had been cut. Your eyes settled on a baseball bat not far from Bucky's feet.

"Hey, Bucky?"

"yeah, pup?", for a split second that dream flashed behind your eyes. pup.

you were snapped from your thought by a bullet flying past your ear.

"I got another story for ya", you grinned. Bucky cocked an eyebrow.

"Now?"

"I used to play a lot of baseball in high school", he followed your gaze, mischievous grin playing at his lips.

"you sure?"

And with that, you emerged from behind the car, bat in hand.

"Hiya, boys", you called out to the two thugs stood in front of you, they trained they're guns on you, just not quick enough.

Before they could even process what was happening, you were on top of them, swinging, punching, kicking. Bucky snuck up behind you, joining in on the fight.

Your breathing was heavy as the two men collapsed at your feet, blood spattered across your chest and face, Bucky couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach, red always was your colour.

There was a wicked smile playing on your lips, teeth sharp and glinting, you looked psychopathic, killer, and Bucky loved it.

Maybe he could help you release some of that anger, he hadn't gotten a good beating in a while.

You went out the night you got back. You almost went to knock on Natasha's door to invite her with you, you stopped yourself with tears in your eyes when you remembered.

You didn't tell anyone where you were going, to be honest, you didn't know yet. You slipped out of the compound quietly, the kind of thing Steve would have disapproved of.

You decided on a quaint little bar, a few blocks away, small and cozy. Old jazz hummed softly through the speakers, you fit right in, blending in with the crowd, no one paid you any mind, and you reveled in it. Being normal for once, being another someone in the crowd, instead of some comic book superhero.

A few hours went by, you spent the time people watching. You paid particular attention to a girl, not much younger than you, she looked just like Natasha, she even ordered a vodka and soda, you just smiled to yourself.

You heard someone slid into the barstool next to you, it must have been at least midnight at this point. He ordered an old fashioned, Bucky's signature. You just kept your attention trained on the other patrons, that was until you felt a hand splayed across your back and warm breath fanning out across your bare shoulder, you were ready to punch a man at least twice your size. You turned around, hand balled into a fist.

"Hey, pup"

"Bucky?"

It must've been the drinks, it had to have been. Bucky's tongue was hot and heavy in your mouth, hands all over your body. He kicked your door closed behind the both of you, pushing you up against it, rough. The wind was knocked from your lungs, his lips travelled down your face, leaving a trail of wet kisses across your jaw and down your neck. He nipped at the shell of your ear before growling, low and animalistic.

"I saw you covered in that blood on the mission, and I just couldn't help myself, pup, I had to get myself a taste"

fuck. me.

@vicmc624 @dee-vn

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

(I'm not sure if 15 or 53 would work best for this, but it got me thinking) The reader, aware of the fates that will befall them either due to their Ultimate or just a sinking feeling of suspicion, tries to save both Leon and Sayaka by attempting to prevent the events that led to Sayaka's murder

53) “I just wanted to help”

..........

As the Ultimate Visionary, you had your ways of foreseeing the future. But unlike a certain clairvoyant, whose predictions only held a 30% success rate, yours were certain to come true.

Just from looking at someone in the eyes, you can tell what will happen to them in the next minute, hour, or day even.

You first demonstrated this by warning Makoto that if he tried to calm down Mondo, he will most certainly get knocked out. And true to your words, he barely dodged the biker’s fist and ran behind you for protection.

Everyone was impressed by your Ultimate--even though Hiro felt like he was being outshined, but you reassured him that’s not your intention.

The only difference between you and him was that...you could actually see the future flash before your very eyes.

However, several days into being trapped in the academy, you had premonitions of two friends that were rather...alarming.

The first one came as you were talking to Leon. He jokingly asked if you could see him being on a stage with his future punk rock band. 

But right as you went to give him an answer...you made direct eye contact with him and that’s when you saw it--the visions flashing before you:

Leon entering a room that wasn’t his own with a note in-hand.

And...his bloody corpse chained to a scoreboard, hundreds of baseballs splattered in pink around him.

You were quick to snap back to reality, and Leon assumed that you saw his future go to shit. But you warned him not to blindly trust the others, though you didn’t want to freak him out by telling him what you exactly saw.

He seemed confused, but promised to be cautious.

The next premonitions came when you were talking to Sayaka, teasing her about her crush on Makoto. And again..you saw them:

Sayaka stealing a knife from the kitchen.

And...her body slumped against a bathroom wall, numbers behind her written in pink.

But you were shaken out of it, so you couldn’t immediately tell what the numbers meant. You just told her the same thing you said to Leon, and as worried as she was..she agreed to be careful, too.

After she left, that’s when you knew what those premonitions meant...a murder was gonna happen after tonight’s announcement.

And you couldn’t let that come true.

...........

“What did you slip under his door?”

“H-Huh? Oh hi, [y/n]!” Sayaka jumped to her feet, spinning around to face you with a forced smile. “It was just a note. I..kinda wanted to talk to Leon alone in-”

“You’ll regret that.” You warned. “You’re setting a trap, but...it’s not gonna end the way you hoped it would.”

The pop singer was silent, though from the look in her eyes--you knew you foiled whatever plan she had. But before you could interrogate her further, Leon’s door creaked open.

“Alright, Sayaka, what’s....eh? [Y/n]? Why are you up so late?”

You both looked at him, seeing that he had the note in his hands and a confused expression on his face.

Just like in your vision.

Without even thinking, you snatched the paper and ripped it up. “Nobody’s meeting anyone tonight.”

“Hey! What gives?!!” Leon snapped, clenching his fists. “If Sayaka wants to talk to me and me alone, you have no business-!!

“I just wanted to help.”

“....huh?”

“What?”

You gazed at the confused pair, sighing. “I told you two to be cautious earlier, but here’s what I really saw: both of your deaths. One by a stab wound and another by..what I’m guessing is the “punishment” Monokuma has in store for us, themed after your Ultimate.”

They looked horrified, exchanging glances of bewilderment with each other.

“Please guys..don’t do this. Don’t let his motives send you over the edge..especially you, Sayaka.” You gave her a pointed glare, though it soon softened as you watched her tear up. “I’m sure whoever you saw is okay. We will find a way out of here and you’ll see them again..without murdering someone. Let’s just all head to bed, okay?”

“O-Okay...goodnight, [y/n].” She was quick to leave for her room, but Leon stayed behind and stared at you.

“What was she planning? It wasn’t..it couldn’t have been--no...there’s no way she was gonna-”

“I didn’t wanna believe it either. But..she had a plan to do something terrible in order to get out of here...“ You didn’t need to elaborate, as the baseball star knew what you were implying.

“...th-this has to be a bad dream, right? That’s fucking crazy!” He ran a hand through his hair, eyes wide. “You sure you’re not messing with me?”

“I wouldn’t lie about something this serious, Leon.” You shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’m glad I put a stop to this, though. I’d..hate to lose either of you.”

“...yeah. I guess I’ll be sleeping with one eye open tonight.” He chuckled. “Can’t believe my dumbass almost fell for it. But thanks for saving me. Guess your talent really is something special.”

“Yep, I get that a lot.”