#(also this was a while ago but i finally somewhat fixed the missing spot on her collar)

[koushirouizumi]

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[starryhyuck]

just like magic. (m)

pairing: fuckboy!jaehyun x fuckgirl!reader

words: 4k+

summary: jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: multiple sex partners, public sex, sex on the roof, multiple orgasms, degradation, wall sex, creampie

Your head rests on the bathroom mirror, inhaling and exhaling loudly as Mingyu finds a wipe to clean you up.

“Ugh. I can’t believe we did it in Bambam’s gross bathroom.”

Mingyu chuckles, the deep sound echoing in the small space. “Please. Don’t act like you’re so disgusted now.” You roll your eyes at his comment while he cleans the cum smeared on the inside of your thighs. “Besides, it’s not like you were having fun at the party anyways.”

You shrug and jump down from the sink, straightening out your skirt and trying to look somewhat presentable.

“True,” you murmur, fixing your hair in the mirror. “Jungkook couldn’t come tonight so it was way easier to find you.”

He scoffs. “As if Jungkook could fuck you better than me.”

You laugh and find the lipgloss sitting at the bottom of your bag. “Oh, he can. He’s not a little gym rat for nothing, you know.”

Mingyu huffs, leaning down to pull your panties back up and straightening your skirt. This scene isn’t unfamiliar to the both of you, although doing it in Bambam’s bathroom certainly was. You’re pretty sure Bambam smoked a shit ton of weed before his party started, and Mingyu opens the bathroom window to release some of the odor.

“See you in 104. Did you finish the extra credit paper already?”

You shook your head, opening the bathroom door and hearing the lively party continue downstairs.

“Nope, not planning to,” you give him one last kiss on the cheek. “Nice fuck, Gyu. Tell Jungkook to show up next time.”

He rolls his eyes again and you two depart, almost toppling over as you bump into Jung Jaehyun on the stairs. His arm quickly slides around your waist to prevent you from falling. He smiles at you.

“How was Mingyu?”

“How was Jennie?”

He chuckles. “Good. As always. You really have to start expanding your little black book. Mingyu and Jungkook aren’t always going to be around, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow and step away from him, shooing his arm away from you. “You don’t think I have backups, silly? Doyoung is at my beck and call, I assure you.”

He smirks, raising his red solo cup to you. “If you ever need me.”

You dismiss him, walking down the stairway of Bambam and Yugyeom’s place. You and Jaehyun had always been similar in many ways, especially in the way you ‘connect’ with other people. If you two ever had a body count competition, it would surely have Johnny’s head spinning all night at the numbers. You never fucked Jaehyun, however, simply because you had no desire to. You’ve known Jaehyun for as long as you’ve known Mingyu, but the only personality trait you’ve ever deducted from Jaehyun was that he’s excellent in bed.

That, and the fact that during your first year of college, Yuta spread some rumor that Jaehyun masturbates to the thought of you.

No big deal.

You find Minghao and Sicheng speaking in the kitchen, and you whine when you clutch Minghao’s arm.

“I’m tired, Hao.”

“You leave us to go fuck Mingyu for a hour and now you want to go home?”

You can hear the condescending tone in Minghao’s voice and you do your best to ignore it. You offer him your best toothy grin. “Come on, designated driver. You’re not even doing anything remotely fun!”

“Hey!” Sicheng interjects. “We were actually just talking.”

You lean over to pinch his cheeks and Sicheng nearly growls at you.

“You’re cute, but you and Minghao talk all the time. Nothing new. Plus, all of us are roommates, dumbass! We could talk at home any time we want to.”

“Fine, fine,” Minghao concedes, laying his cup down on the kitchen counter. You ignore the fact that Yugyeom’s tongue is shoved down some girl’s throat only five feet away from all of you. “Did you already clean yourself up? I don’t want any of Mingyu’s germs in my car.”

“Are we sure it was Mingyu?” Sicheng counters. “It could’ve been Jungkook or Doyoung or Wonwoo or Jinyoung or-“

“Alright, alright,” you glare at him. “And yes, it was Mingyu. He already cleaned me up so you won’t get any Gyu germs.”

“Good.”

Minghao still has trouble trusting you after that one time you wore a skirt with no panties and let Kun’s cum spill all over Minghao’s front seat. Sicheng is still extremely traumatized from the situation.

You exit the house party with your roommates, almost stopping at the sight of Kunhang looking like a fucking dream near the speakers-

“Come on, you horny asshole,” Sicheng grunts, pushing you out the door.

—

“Did you hear the news?”

Your eyes flutter at the sight of Nakamoto Yuta, who is leaning over your desk, smiling. You sigh and decide to entertain him.

“What is it now, Yuta?”

“A little birdy told me that a certain Jung Jaehyun has fallen for Mingyu’s girl,” Yuta’s smirk widens when you furrow your eyebrows.

“Mingyu has a girlfriend?”

He huffs. “You, dumbass.”

You giggle at the thought of dating Mingyu and roll your eyes. “You’re full of shit, Nakamoto.”

He stands straight, his figure towering over you. You peek your head out to see if the lecture has started yet so Yuta can get the fuck away from you.

“Then why did I hear Jaehyun calling your name when he was getting his dick wet this morning?”

The accusation has your eyebrows raising. You barely know Jaehyun, only from fleeting stories from Mingyu and Jungkook. You also know that Yuta’s always full of shit, spreading rumors about various people just because he can.

“Get your head out of your ass, Yuta.”

He laughs at your dismissive nature, leaning in again. There’s a troublesome glint in his eyes.

“And what if I told you Mingyu said Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five?”

You challenge him. “I would say that the cum in Miyeon’s panties say otherwise.”

He smiles and steps back when the professor finally enters the room.

“Whatever you want to believe.”

That conversation with Yuta was three years ago. He’s graduated long since, but the rumor about Jaehyun still pops up here and there. Jaehyun never addressed it with you, and when you asked Mingyu about it once, he just laughed.

“A lot of guys on campus jack off to the thought of you. Are you surprised?”

You think about the memory as you watch Soojin straddle Jaehyun, her hair falling over the side of her face as she leans in to kiss him. The rest of the party ignores them, mainly focused on how Bambam is nearly toppling over trying to do a keg stand.

A hand slides around your waist and you feel someone’s lips attach to your neck.

“Gyu told me you were looking for me the other day,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. “Did you miss me?”

You smile when you feel his fingers inch closer to your breast, hands roaming all over your body.

“Yes. Your absence made me fuck Mingyu in Bambam’s germ-covered bathroom.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound shoots straight to your core.

“I’m here now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Your eyes drift upwards again, startled to find Jaehyun already gazing at you. Soojin’s sucking at his neck, but his eyes are locked on you, watching the way Jungkook paws at your breast.

Yuta’s voice rings in your ears. Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five.

You push the thought away as Jungkook’s mouth envelops yours. Jaehyun couldn’t love you, Yuta was just full of shit.

—

“You’re late.”

You narrow your eyes at Mingyu, who brushes off the time. He promised to meet up with you yesterday to finish your project for 104 and give you a quick lunch time fuck. You’re a little disheartened to see he’s tugged Doyoung and Jaehyun along.

“Don’t be so upset, frowning doesn’t look good on you,” Mingyu teases, sliding in the chair across from you. Doyoung sits next to him, and Jaehyun awkwardly takes the spot next to you. “We were just playing a little basketball outside. The time slipped my mind.”

“Well, I guess it slips my mind that I’m supposed to fuck you before your next class.”

Doyoung laughs and seizes the opportunity. “I, on the other hand, never promised anything and my schedule is conveniently free for the whole day.” He winks at you, his gums showing brightly as he smiles.

You smirk when Mingyu elbows him in the side. Jaehyun is oddly quiet and you turn to face him while Mingyu hisses at Doyoung.

“I saw you and Soojin getting it on last weekend. How was it?”

He smiles tightly. “Good, as always. Jungkook per usual?”

You nod. “The little gym rat won’t stop exercising. He was talking to me about his routine all night. I almost just got myself off instead.”

Something flickers in Jaehyun’s gaze, and it’s gone so quickly that you might’ve missed it.

“I can’t imagine why that would be preferred, especially when you have most of the male population lining up to get a taste of you.”

There’s a hidden implication in his words, and you take the chance.

“Are you part of that male population?”

He smirks at your question. Before he has a chance to answer, Mingyu’s voice fills your ears again.

“Anyways, my dorm is free and I can afford to miss my next class. Wanna head up? Promise I’ll go down on you as an apology.”

You scoff at Mingyu’s half-assed proposal, and stand to leave. “I’ll pass. Get a watch next time if you want your dick wet. I’m assuming you’re going to finish most of our project since I was waiting here for over a hour.”

Mingyu frowns. “But-“

“But?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

His shoulders slump. “Fine. I’ll finish the damn project.”

You lean over to pinch his cheeks. “Good Mingyu. I’ll see all of you at Minghao’s birthday bash.”

You depart without another word, ignoring the burn of Jaehyun’s stare. When you arrive back to your apartment, Minghao is organizing his wine cabinet while Sicheng talks to Tzuyu at the kitchen counter. You sigh and throw your bag across the island.

“Boys are dumb.”

Tzuyu laughs. “Did Mingyu forget what time it is again?”

“As always,” you confirm, searching for anything consumable in your fridge. As expected, no one’s gone grocery shopping in a week. Guess you’ll have to raid Wonwoo’s apartment tonight.

Sicheng huffs. “Good. I don’t need you getting any more Mingyu germs before Minghao’s party tomorrow.”

“And what does Hao’s party have anything to do with me getting laid?” Sicheng rolls his eyes at your question, and you smile sweetly at him. You decide to favor the leftover pieces of ham sitting at the back of the fridge. “Tzuyu, back me up here. Didn’t you have a good time with Jaehyun two weeks ago?”

Tzuyu’s cheeks flush as she recalls what you’re referring to. At Jungwoo’s party, she and Jaehyun were practically fucking each other in the middle of the living room.

“I guess. He was weird about some things.”

You frown, removing the lid off of the container and shoving a piece of ham in your mouth. “Like what?”

She looks embarrassed to be talking about such intimate things in front of Sicheng, but your roommate is unbothered. He’s heard enough of your escapades to be unfazed by any mentions of sex.

“He didn’t want to look at me when we did it. He told me I had to face the pillow or else he couldn’t cum that way.”

You shrug. “So he likes it from behind. Nothing too weird about that. Which way do you prefer, Sicheng?”

He glares at you. “None of your business.”

You giggle at how cute he is before Tzuyu continues. “I mean, it wasn’t just that. He didn’t really like it when I made noises. I had to be as quiet as possible.”

“Ugh, that’s fucked. Guys can grunt in the nastiest ways possible but they hate it when we make an ounce of noise. I hope you’re not that way, Sicheng.”

His glare burns. “None. Of. Your. Business.”

“Yeah, it was weird. He’s really good in bed though.”

You chuckle. “I would hope so. Anyways, who’s on the guest list for tomorrow night?”

Sicheng sighs, and you wonder if he thinks about moving out and living with a less horny roommate.

“Basically anyone you’ve fucked before since you’ve slept with all of Hao’s friends.”

You frown. “That’s not fun. I like someone new once in a while.”

“No funny business at Minghao’s party, I mean it. We can’t be cutting his cake while you’re getting railed in your room.”

You boop his nose. “No promises.”

—

Sicheng’s done this on purpose.

All of the men at Minghao’s party have flocked away from you, like Sicheng sent them all a mass text before the party started or something. You tried to slide up to Mingyu but then he was quickly taking the offer to do body shots with someone else. It’s as if you would bite all their dicks off with the way they’re running from you.

It’s the middle of the party when you grow tired of hearing Jieqiong’s banter with Jun.

You step out of the apartment for a few minutes and head up to the roof, arms wrapping around yourself to shield from the cold. You know you should’ve went to Wonwoo yesterday, especially since Sicheng has apparently made it a no fuck zone for tonight.

You jump when you feel a jacket moving over your shoulders. You’re even more startled to see Jaehyun next to you.

“Oh, hey. When did you get here?”

He smiles, and it hurts your eyes a little by how pretty he is.

“About a hour ago. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice, considering I could feel your rage from five feet away.”

You laugh dryly. “Did Sicheng send you a text too?”

“No, but Mingyu told me about it. I assume he only sent it to the guys you’ve slept with before.”

You nod. “Yeah, probably. I’m off limits to all males tonight.”

The two of you stand together in silence, gazing out at the view of your city. You’ve never felt an urge to get an answer from Jaehyun before about Yuta’s rumor, but now that he’s here, it’s all you can think about.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about the rumor Yuta spread around in freshman year?”

His back stiffens. The seconds pass in a deafening thump, and you’re starting to feel like you shouldn’t have brought it up.

He finally sighs. “How long have we known each other?”

You blink. Did he really have to respond to a question with another question?

You think back to when you first met Jaehyun and Mingyu. You were only five then, and you screamed in the middle of the classroom because Mingyu had spilled paint all over the front of your shirt. You remember Jaehyun handing you a wipe to clean yourself up, ears bright red.

You grin at the memory. “Since I found out Mingyu was the clumsiest kid on earth.”

He chuckles. “You never really saw it, did you?”

“Saw what?”

You’re even more confused by Jaehyun’s vague ass answers. He averts his gaze from you, and you suddenly feel a lot colder on this rooftop.

“How much I liked you.”

The statement causes you to freeze. So Yuta was right - Jung Jaehyun has loved you since you were five. Still, it doesn’t make any sense. You’ve been fucking Mingyu since high school and Jaehyun never seemed bothered by it, considering he and Mingyu were still best friends. In fact, you’ve been in bed with most of his friend group and he’s never said a word about it. His friends never even mention his liking for you, so you have to assume that they don’t know of it either.

As if he could sense your rampant thoughts running wild, he squashes them.

“I thought you loved Mingyu. I thought that when the two of you first started sleeping together, it would develop into something more. It’s why I never said anything to him. He knew, but I’m sure he thought I didn’t mind.”

You’re baffled. You don’t even know how to respond to this newfound information. Maybe you should’ve stayed downstairs at the party.

“Mingyu is an asshole,” you finally conclude. Jaehyun’s shoulders relax when you speak. “And so am I. I swear, I didn’t know, Jaehyun. I would’ve-“

“You would’ve stopped seeing Mingyu? And Jungkook? And Doyoung, and Wonwoo, and-“

“Okay, okay,” you raise a hand up to stop him before glaring. “You’re not entirely innocent either. I’m friends with most of the girls you’ve slept with too.”

His eyes darken. “And have you asked them what it’s like to be with me? How I have to turn them over and imagine it’s you before I can get hard? How I have to keep them quiet because their moans are too loud or simply because it doesn’t sound like you?” How-“

“Jaehyun,” you whisper, feeling like the wind has gotten knocked out of your chest. You’re also trying to ignore the wetness that’s pooled in your underwear. “Are you saying-“

“I’m saying that I’ve been running circles around you since we were five and you’ve never noticed. I’ve had to hear countless nights of Mingyu and Jungkook talking about how sweet your pussy is when they slide into you. How pretty you are when you’re stuffing their cocks far down your throat. How you let them take you anywhere, any time, because you enjoy it as much as they do.”

You swallow. He’s inches away from you now, hands dancing around your waist carefully. You quickly check the time.

One hour before Minghao cuts his cake. That should be enough.

You grab the fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt, pulling him to you as his lips crash into yours. He grunts, gripping your sides and pressing you against the railing. Your eyes glance down briefly to see how high up you two are.

“Drop me and I’ll kill you.”

He laughs, chasing you again and quickly moving to undress you. You ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms when Jaehyun nips at your neck, fingers dipping into your panties. “So pretty,” he murmurs, licking a stripe across your collarbones. You moan when he slides a finger into your heat. “That’s it, baby. Sound so fucking good.”

He slips another finger in, basking in the glory of your moans. “We have to hurry,” you mumble breathily. “Sicheng will come looking if he knows I’m gone for too long. It’s like he can sense when I’m fucking someone.”

Jaehyun laughs, moving back up to kiss you. “He can watch if he wants to then.”

“I wanna-“ you gasp when he curls his fingers. “I wanna suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. He’s fingering you faster now, and you can hear the squelch of your wetness fill the air. You gasp, desperately holding onto his forearm. “I’ll fuck your mouth next time, I promise. I need to see you cum now.”

You unravel in no time, moaning loudly as you fall apart on Jaehyun’s fingers. He coaxes you through your orgasm, murmuring praises in your ear. You whimper when he pulls away from you, licking up the remaining essence on his fingers.

“Jaehyun,” you say frantically, pawing at him. “I need you inside me.”

You turn over so that your back is facing him, and you think he’s about to slide your underwear down but instead, he swivels you around.

“Need to see you,” he whispers. “Jump.”

You do as he says, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him with much more fervor. You moan when his hands grip your sides roughly, pressing you against the concrete. You sit on the ledge of the rooftop, trying to ignore the genuine fear of falling.

He’s quickly shoving his jeans down his thighs and you whimper.

“Hurry, Jae.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m here, I’m right here,” he hisses, pulling out his cock and giving it a few strokes. Your eyes widen at the size — he was surely bigger and thicker than Mingyu or Jungkook. He chuckles at your stare, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Bigger than what you normally have?”

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t tell me you idiots had a dick measuring contest.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

Then, he’s pushing your panties to the side and sliding into you. You gasp, his fingers roughly gripping you in place to make sure you don’t fall. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, thrusting rapidly as soon as he feels you.

“Good little slut,” he grunts. “So pretty and pliant for me. Is my cock too big for you to take, baby?”

“You’re gonna fucking,” you pant, whining when his cock hits you deeper. “You’re gonna fucking split me in half, asshole.”

He grins mischievously. “That’s the goal.”

You’re so lost in the feeling of him that the both of you fail to hear the door to the rooftop open. You’re startled when Sicheng’s voice booms in the air.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! We haven’t even cut the cake yet!”

“Sicheng, I-“ you shamelessly whimper when Jaehyun hits your sweet spot, not slowing down in the slightest despite Sicheng watching. “W-We’ll be d-down before Hao c-cuts the cake.”

“Horny assholes,” you hear your roommate mutter before the door to the rooftop is closing again.

Jaehyun chortles. “He should’ve sent that text to me too if he was so concerned.”

“Fuck him,” you groan. “And fuck me harder.”

He listens to your command, pushing into you so deep that you almost fall off the ledge. You scream as your upper body dangles off the rooftop, but you can hear Jaehyun’s giggle. Your fear is overtaken by arousal when you realize his cock is hitting you deeper in this position.

“Cum, cum,” you whisper. “I’m cumming.”

He groans when you tighten around him, convulsing around his cock. When you recover, he’s hoisting you back up, bringing your chest to his as he carries you. You have no idea where he’s going, but with every step, his cock slides deeper into your soaking cunt.

The door to the rooftop is opening again and you realize you’re in the stairwell.

“Get down, hands on the railing.”

You shakily follow his command, ignoring the wobble of your legs as you grip the metal bars. He’s pushing into you again before you can take a breath.

“I-I thought you needed to see me,” you say, your back turned to him.

“You’re right.”

Then, he’s pushing you against the wall with force and abusing your pussy. You practically scream, clawing at his back while he pounds you into the wall.

“Do you want to know exactly what Yuta heard three years ago?” He groans against your neck. You can barely form coherent sentences, and you’re pretty sure you had another orgasm that you haven’t even revived from. “He heard me desperately fucking my cock into my hand, whimpering your name. All I could imagine that day was the little short dress you wore to Yugyeom’s party, and how Jungkook’s hands were all over you as soon as you stepped through the door. I fucking came so hard that I had to wash my sheets before Mingyu came back to the dorm.”

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” you whisper frantically. You’re unraveling again — cumming around his cock while he fucks you hard. “Cum with me. Inside, cum inside. Please, please.”

He grunts lowly. “Yeah? You want my cum? What about the rest of them — how many of them have spilled inside you?”

“I’ll keep it in,” you promise him, just wanting your hole to be filled. “I’ll walk around Hao’s party with your cum dripping down my thighs. How does that sound?”

And he’s groaning, giving one final thrust before he empties inside of you. You gasp at how much cum he has to give you, some of it spilling down your lips and onto the floor.

The both of you are panting lowly, trying to recover from your orgasms. You faintly hear a chorus of people singing Happy Birthday two floors down.

“Fuck, Sicheng’s gonna kill us.”

[hotch-stufff]

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!reader

Warnings!: there are no warnings, im not telling you a single thing. It's a surprise. Just read and find out ;)

Also, as much as I love him, Jack does not exist in this story, wasn't really sure how to write him in.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that I haven't written in a while, I have had no inspiration and my bf dumped me so... ya'know that was nice. Anyways, finally getting some inspo, hopefully I will be writing more. Hope you guys enjoy this one :) Also, the mood board is mine, but the images are all from pintrest.

Word count: 1.4 k words

This is an emotional roller coaster

------------

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't move, or speak.

Your knees gave out as you fell to the floor, sobs racking your body.

You felt arms wrap around you, but it didn't help. You were suffocating. He was your air, and he had just been ripped from your lungs. 

He was gone, dead.

Your husband.

The love of your life.

Aaron Hotchner was dead

* * *

You don't remember anything after the doctor uttered those words. You don't remember Rossi picking you up and holding you. You don't remember the sad glances, the tears shed by your teammates. You don't remember the car ride to your now empty shared apartment. You don't remember lying down and sobbing into the pillow for hours.

No, you only remember the pain. The unbearable pain of loss.

He was gone. Really gone.

You cried and cried for hours on end. Until you had no tears left to shed. 

Then you just lied there, staring at the wall, gripping his favorite shirt in your arms, remembering every little moment with him.

And it hurt like hell just thinking of everything you did with him. The day you met. Your first kiss, your first date. The day he proposed. Your wedding. Every little thing. 

And you wouldn't be able to do anything else. You wouldn't have kids with him. You guys had just talked about having a baby just the other day. He wanted one so bad. 

You shouldn't have waited.

Because now, now he was gone.

* * *

The next few days were a blur. You found yourself with home-cooked meals overflowing your fridge. A team member at your house every night. But it was all a blur.

All meaningless without Aaron.

The funeral was coming up. You didn't make any arrangements, you asked Rossi if he could handle it and he quickly agreed. 

He had taken care of finding the casket, picking a place, and finding a burial site. Everything. 

The only thing you had asked for was a closed casket.

You couldn't handle looking at him.

* * *

On the day of the funeral, the girls all came over to help you get ready. 

"Alright y/n, do you have a dress?" Penny asked as she walked out of kitchen.

"In the closet." You croaked. Your voice being hoarse from the crying and lack of speaking for the past two weeks.

"Okay I'll grab that, and shoes. Jj is going to make you breakfast and Em is going to do your hair okay?" You gave her a sad smile and a small okay.

Penny quickly walked back your hallway as Em began pulling your hair back in a low ponytail. You felt the tears begin slipping down your face once again.

Jj saw as she walked back in the room with a bagel and coffee.

"Oh sweetheart." And the dam broke. They comforted you the best they could. But they couldn't even imagine what you were going through, because he was gone.

* * *

The funeral was a blur. It seemed like everything was these days. 

It was a beautiful service. You don't remember much. Lots of hugs and 'sorry for your loss's.

It had gone quickly, and soon you found yourself in Rossi's living room. Everyone but the team had left, you sat alone. The rest were in the kitchen cleaning up.

You didn't move from your spot, sipping your wine.

Everyone walked in, and found spots around you.

It was silent. Not a single word was spoken.

"I'm taking a leave of absence." You spoke.

6 pairs of eyes shot to you, but they couldn't say they were surprised.

"It's just too much. I'm not ready to come back." Your voice was quiet. Rossi was the first to say anything.

"Take all the time you need." 

* * *

And you did. You spent about 3 months in that apartment, alone and sad and heartbroken. 

But you realized that Aaron would never want you to live like this. And you really needed to be able to pay the bills.

So after those 3 months, you gave Rossi a call. He had become until chief since you had left, and he instantly accepted you back to the team.

You were slowly getting better. 

Each passing case a distraction. 

Each one fixing you just a bit more. 

Each one giving your life a purpose, a meaning again.

And you felt better. You stopped crying yourself to sleep. You stopped sitting in silence for hours on end. You stopped crying every time you thought about him.

But you still visited him every week. You still thought about him everyday. You still wore your wedding rings, refusing to take them off.

But you were better. 

* * *

A few more months went by and you started going out with the team again. You spent more time with them. Almost every weekend. And you were somewhat okay.

And it wasn't until about 8 months after his death did your world come to another crashing halt.

You had been called in to the BAU, not entirely sure why, but you came in none the less. 

You figured it was a case, but Jj hadn't specified on the phone, which was strange.

You had walked up to the conference room, and were surprised to see the whole team sitting there ready to go. 

"Hey guys, do we have a case?" You asked, but Jj sent you a sad look causing you to grow worried.

"Y/n, you should sit down for this." You had no idea what was going on. What on earth was happening. "Peter Raymond recently resurfaced, and was taken into custody this morning about an hour ago. He resisted arrest and pulled a gun on an officer. He was shot and killed." Your heart hammered in your chest. He was gone. The bastard who killed your husband was gone. Rossi stood walking towards Jj.

A pit grew in your stomach, there was more, something you didn't know.

"8 months ago I made a decision that greatly affected this team. Aaron Hotchner received substantial injuries from the wounds he endured, but his surgery was a success and he was airlifted to an unknown location. His identity was changed in order to keep him safe. But he is alive." 

You couldn't believe your ears. He was alive. Alive? 

Your eyes shot to the door and there he stood. 

Aaron Hotchner. 

You couldn't breathe. 

You couldn't move or speak. 

He was alive, you should be ecstatic.

But you only felt anger.

Your eyes shot to Rossi.

"How dare you." You whispered out, surprising the team. You weren't an angry person, you never yelled at your teammates. But you, you were seething. "How could you do that. You knew he was alive and yet you let me suffer. You watched as I cried day and night. You watched as I let myself go, as I lost myself." You shook your head in anger.

Aaron stepped forward reaching out for you, but you shook your head.

"Dont touch me. Don't fucking touch me." You felt the tears fall down your face. Again. "You left me. You're dead. You're gone. Y-you left." You were shaking and crying and once again Aaron reached out for you, but this time you let him.

He brought you into a crushing hug, holding you like you had begged to be held for months. 

He was here, really here. You could smell and feel and see him. He was really here.

"Y-you bastard. You left me." You whispered desperately as you cried into his shirt. 

The team was quick to disperse. They too were mad at Rossi, and they wanted to reunite with Hotch. But they left you be, at least for now.

Aaron pulled back slightly, looking down at you.

"Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to. But he would have killed you and then he would have killed me." He had tears running down his face as well now. But you were so angry at him.

You pushed him away.

"I could have gone with you Aaron. You could have gone into witsec. You didn't need to fake your fucking death Aaron!" You yelled at him. you couldn't even believe you were eating this conversation.

"Y/n please, I'm so sorry." You were mad yeah, but you were so overwhelmingly relieved that it overpowered your anger. "I missed you sweetheart." He whispered out and you broke just a little bit more.

"You bastard. Y-you stupid man." You pulled him back to you and slammed your lips together. "You stupid, stupid man." You gasped out between kisses. 

"I know, I'm so sorry. I love you." He stated after you pulled away.

"I-I love you too." You were sobbing at this point.. "Don't ever do that to me again." He nodded, leaning in to kiss you again.

And you kissed your husband.

Because he wasn't gone. 

He was right here.

And god did it feel amazing to have him back

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Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! Currently I'm only taking requests from my prompt list, which is right here! School is starting up soon though, so i may not be writing very often, but i will definitely try! Anyways, if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[daisies-and-buttercups]

“Love and War - Chapter III” - Luca Changretta x reader

Summary: You’ve picked a side, and now you have to deal with the aftermath. 

A/N: When I started this fic I had a decent outline what I wanted to happen but my ideas sorta ended with this part. However, I’m loving where this is going and I have some more ideas, so there probably will be a few more chapters 👀  Either way, I want to thank everyone that liked and commented, not only on this fic but in general, it always makes me so happy and it really means a lot 💕

Words: 3.4k

Chapter I Chapter II

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Your house was now used to your incessant walking, the wood singing along as you stood on it over and over, pacing from one room to the other, picking the phone up, sighing, falling on the bed for a short moment before starting the routine all over again. 

By morning you had slept for only a few hours, the ghost of Arthur visiting you in your dreams to blame you for his death, shaking you up until you woke up. The sun was now high, making you jump up to reach the phone. You weren’t backing down, you’d have no more deaths.

The phone rang consistently, bothering Ada enough to make her pick it up, ignoring Tommy’s order against it.  “What?” Her tone was annoyed, but she understood once she heard yours, nervous and desperate. “Ada? Ada! I need to know where they are. I’m not having them kill each other.”  “Oh darling, I… I can’t. Tommy was adamant about not letting you know.” Her tone was now softer, having missed your conversations and feeling the desperation in your voice. “Ada, please. I covered you when you and Freddie-“ “Is this a me-and-Freddie situation?” “What?” “Is he your Freddie?”  Your fingers tapped on the table, looking up at the flowers that had started to wither. You had pressed the nicest ones in a book, but couldn’t bring yourself to throw the rest away and, even if dried out, they still somehow looked good, so you kept them.  Was he your Freddie? He definitely felt like what Ada had described all those years ago, the feelings she described so vividly were now also your own. You hadn’t spent long enough with him to truly know, but you didn’t want him to die before you had the chance to figure it out. “I don’t know, Ada. I think so.”  Her sigh was the only sign, along with your impatient tapping, that time was still flowing.  “The distillery. Tommy left not too long ago, so I’d rush there.”  You groaned and ran to get your shoes, running back to the phone to thank her. “You didn’t hear it from me, you hear me! Not from me!” She repeated over and over, hoping that you wouldn’t be the victim of the day. She really didn’t want to lose a friend. 

The roads were deserted as you ran past the first buildings, spotting the distillery in the distance.  You turned the corner, trying not to run the final meters that separated you from whatever was going on inside, thinking it wise to listen to what was happening before jumping into a situation you might not know how to handle, but stopped dead in your tracks. Someone stood outside the door, taking a few steps, listening, scratching his head and checking his gun. Someone that looked a lot like… “Arthur?”  He turned and faced you, smiling but quickly placing a finger over his lips, letting you know to be quiet. You walked fast again, walking over to him and crashing against his chest, pulling him in a quick hug, but freezing when you realised why he was out here. He wasn’t alone, but the men stayed back, leaving you the space to talk, holding their guns in clear sight nonetheless.  “How are you doing, love?” He whispered. “You’re… you’re meant to be dead.” “Hope it’s not too disappointing to see me still standing, dear” he laughed softly, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’d suggest leaving now, it ain’t gonna be pretty.” he motioned to the gun, glancing inside while focusing for a moment on the voices that could faintly be heard. You stood still, listening along and hearing Luca speak, then the sound of banging and glass breaking, the clear sound of a fight.  It was the vortex of emotions swirling in your steps that kept you there, trying to make sense of the situation. Your image of Luca had been shifted because of Arthur’s death, only to now find him standing there, armed, ready for a fight. And you knew who the bullets in his barrel were for. “Ah, that’s my cue. See ya, love.”  You weren’t sure if it was the sound of your heartbeat or of your footsteps, but before he had time to react you slipped past him, holding your stare straight ahead of you, the colour of blood painting your thoughts. It was rage, that rage that had never been strong, that always came when you weren’t part of Tommy’s plans. When you had to stay behind. When it was better if you didn’t know. You wasted all your tears on a man that wasn’t dead, not an ounce of regret in anybody’s mind when you walked in. 

The first thing you saw was Tommy’s expression drop when his eyes landed on you, the only person that could’ve complicated this further. Then you saw Luca.  His face wasn’t the same as when you last saw it. Gashes decorated it, his eye was swollen and his lips hung open, showing you the damage dealt in its full glory. It was a gruesome show, only made worse by the stares that you received for being there.  Tommy was holding him up when you walked in, the faint glimmer of surprise passing through his eyes, expecting Arthur to walk in, not you. But to see you walk over  to the bloodied man… maybe that’s what made him truly speechless. When you reached Luca you stopped, looking at his injuries for only a second before hearing Arthur cock his gun.  “Get away from him, sweetheart. I told you to leave.”  You turned slowly, first meeting Thomas’ cold stare and then facing the gun that was pointed at you, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not going anywhere, Arthur. Shoot me, I’m not leaving.”  Luca called your name, pulling you weakly away, trying to get you to stand behind him. He wouldn’t have you get killed over his life. But you didn’t move, asserting your position once more in front of the man, planting your feet harshly against the ground.  You saw Arthur’s eyes wander between you and Tommy, unsure as to what to do. You all waited for the next move, the only sound being Luca’s demands for you to leave as he clung to you, trying to get you to leave. “Go.”  Tommy spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on your hand, the one that gripped on to Luca’s. He couldn’t watch you, so worried for the life of that man. A person he had considered a friend, a helper, family, even, now standing on the enemy’s side.  You had been Luca’s only request. He didn’t care about the rest, but he wanted you to leave with him, if that was what you desired, and he didn’t want anyone trying to stop you. He wanted you, and that made Tommy’s blood boil, but he played his part, knowing full well that he had the upper hand. He knew that there's no leaving, not for you and not for him. There was nothing to go back to either way. Luca was never going to leave alive in Tommy’s eyes, but when you crossed the threshold the illusion shattered. The way you looked at him made it clear that you’d be willing to risk more than your life for the Italian. He’d been a fool, maybe, but there had always been something about your ways. He knew you, cared for you, and underestimated you all at the same time. In his eyes you’d always follow him like a lost puppy, just like Arthur did, but you were strong enough to break from his spell and get away. “Now!” he shouted, walking over to Arthur and ripping his gun out of his hands, aiming it at you, allowing his emotions to leave him, falling back into his new reality. You were an enemy now too, and he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.  A small flinch and the beginning of a tear was all that you allowed him to see before you moved, cringing at the sound of Luca grunting in pain at your movement, trying to pull him up somewhat gently, but not allowing him to see that, no matter where you stood now, this still hurt. 

Feeling your heart beat in your chest, you focused on the gun aimed at you for a moment, stopping at the door to look each one of them in the eyes. Tommy’s gaze didn’t falter, menacing and cold, while Arthur couldn’t look at you, moving away from where you stood, realising the side you chose didn’t match his own.  You had often sat with Arthur, the two of you ignored on many occasions and gave you an extra reason to bond, and he cared deeply for you, but he wouldn’t go against Tommy, not even to look at you to show you that he somehow wasn’t mad, just surprised and disappointed at your choice. 

While you walked out of the door, no man followed you, making it clear that Luca’s men were no longer his, Matteo standing still behind you, not daring to look up and meet Luca’s eyes, clutching his rifle tightly against his chest.   “I should be the hero coming to save you, not vice versa.”  “Yeah, well, maybe next time.” You muttered, struggling to walk while carrying most of his body weight.  You weren’t sure what other damage he had apart from his face, but his limping and laboured breathing suggested that other parts of his body had been wounded too. He pretended to be fine, taking steady steps before falling back onto you with a grunt, whispering a mix of Italian swear words and apologies. 

The moment you crossed the threshold of your house you walked him over to the sofa, finding the phone and calling the doctor before gathering anything useful that you could find, cursing at yourself for not being more organised.  “You could’ve died.” he spoke, his voice coarse as you made your way back to him with the various creams. “You’re a goddamn fool.” You muttered, dabbing his wounds, making him flinch and hiss in pain.  “Gentle, love.” He tried to joke, moving away from you, only to stop when the pain between his ribs got worse.  “I wouldn’t have to be gentle if you weren’t such an idiot.” You answered back, scoffing but softening your touches nonetheless. The doctor was going to be here soon, so you decided to focus on the various cuts, moving as gently as you could, wiping away the blood and removing any piece of glass still stuck in his skin.  “Never do that again.” He spoke seriously now, moving ever so slightly while you took care of him, lifting his hand to wipe some of his blood that had gotten on your cheek.  “Never do what again, save your ass?”  “Stand between me and a gun.” It had been a bold move, trusting your gut, knowing that Arthur wouldn’t shoot at you, even when your brain was cursing at you to get out of the way, but you weren’t sure if that made all the difference. You hadn’t thought about it, you just felt the need to stand in front of him, to shield him, whatever the outcome.  “Then next time be on the right end of it.”  Your movements were stopped by his hand gripping yours, holding the blood-stained rag still, some of the drops dripping down your arms, colouring your skin with faint red lines. “That was my intention and always has been, I can assure you, but in no circumstance I want you to take a bullet for me.” His eyes wandered, looking at you while you took care of him. He couldn’t have hoped for a better sight, yet something about the scene before him tugged at something deep within him. The fear of what he thought he could never achieve being right in front of him, maybe.  “Turns out I am here to clean up your wounds in the end, eh?” you joked, trying to wipe the serious look off his face along with all the blood.  “Y’ won’t want to kiss me anymore, with all these cuts. Too many scars.” “Who said I ever wanted to kiss you in the first place?” It was a harmless joke, proved for good measure by the soft kiss you placed on his lips, the meeting of your tongues enticed by both of your lips curving into a soft smile, the feeling of finally belonging somewhere filling your chest. “You never seemed to mind, dear.”  “I’ll always want to kiss you.” You added, letting the truth run free. He laughed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled, gently caressing your face with his fingertips, tracing invisible lines.  “No good came from kissing this old man, sweetheart. You-“ his words were interrupted by the timid knock on the door. He watched as you rose, making your way to the door, welcoming the doctor in and gesturing towards Luca, quickly explaining that you tended his external wounds and needed some help at assessing the internal ones. He looked away, nodding at the annoyance of being interrupted. 

“He’s got a broken rib. It will take him up to two months to fully recover, but in a week or two the pain should lessen. He’s also running a low fever. Everything seems under control, but if it rises you’ll have to monitor his condition.” The small man talked quietly, as if he didn’t want Luca to hear. Timid steps made him grow closer to the exit with each word he spoke, evidently eager to leave. “Thank you, doctor.”  He nodded, turning to walk away, stopping just before the door to glance behind him, looking at Luca, now standing tall behind you. “Is there a problem?” You asked, feeling the tension rise. You knew that Tommy had men all over town, but you didn’t want to believe that the doctor that had been helping you for years might be close to turning on you.  “They told me to deliver a message.”  A message. Through a man, rather than a phone call. Was that too personal for him now? They had no issue telling you about Arthur’s supposed death by phone, but now that he was threatening you, he used someone else’s voice.  “Have they, now?” Luca’s words were raspy, still out of breath from the movement and the pain, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating in the doctor’s eyes.  He was shorter than both of you, a small and round man, and, even with a broken rib and in pain, he knew Luca could easily overpower him if he so wished.  “They… Mr. Shelby said that you’ve got to leave. You’ve got until tomorrow. If you’re not-“ he took a deep breath, trying to steady his trembling voice, “if you’re not on the last ship out of here they’d…” he trailed on, not wanting to anger either of you. A quick glance at you and he nodded, rushing out of the door, closing it behind him in a haste, eager to get away. You turned, letting out an exasperated sigh while Luca stood behind you, considering the doctor’s words. He hadn’t looked at you, only at him, which meant that it was very likely that their appreciation for you over the years had counted for something. They wouldn’t kill you.  “I’ll pack my bags.” It wasn’t a question, there was no doubt that you’d follow him. Life with the Shelby’s had been a blessing, some of the best years of your life, but you doubted Tommy would welcome you back, at least not so soon. There was nothing left for you here, not in the land of Thomas Shelby.  “He’s not after you.” he tried to stop you from grabbing the bag, grabbing a hold of your hand as he spoke, holding you in place. You moved to face him, studying his expression. A lot of Luca came from his eyes, using his words to charm and threaten and keeping his secrets hidden deep inside. “But he’s after you.” “You’ve got a life here.”  “I had a life here.” you answered, feeling the electricity of a new start in the air. “If I stayed I’d have to find a job, and not only are most businesses owned by the Blinders, but those that aren’t wouldn’t welcome someone that got away from them on bad terms. They’re feared, and I’d just make whoever wanted me a target. I made a choice, Luca, and you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” you laughed, moving closer to him and caressing his cheek, gently, avoiding the small cuts. “I get to start over.” He smiled at your words, wishing he had your way of seeing things, the simpler ones, his eyes now trained to see the thousands of possibilities and dangers that his way of life offered him so easily, yet ignoring the other possibilities, the ones that weren’t deadly. You complemented each other, lacking what the other was strongest in. And while he looked at you, all he saw was the image of the wife he never could’ve dreamed of having, hoping that one day you’d be just that. He smiled again at the thought, watching you as you walked back to your bed, opening your bag to pack your belongings.  “America?” you asked, choosing the limited clothes you could bring. You could buy more once you arrived there, but you were sentimental and some had to come; the dress you wore on your first day in Small Heath, the one you had on when you saw Ada’s kid for the first time, and the few dresses you wore with Luca. You placed them all neatly, feeling the soft fabric under your hands, picking a few other items to fill the bag. A photograph of you, Polly and Ada, all smiling proud, a pearl necklace that made you feel like you could rule the world, along with a few memories of your years in England. He nodded, still deep in thought. “Will Matteo be joining us later on?” “Matteo’s with the Blinders now.” “Is he?” you smiled at him, knowing that the truth wasn’t that simple, and when he looked at you, you knew you were right. The mafia didn’t work with money, but with honour. It was a different world from Tommy’s, and Matteo wasn’t going to bail on the Changretta family just for some extra money. “There’s only two ships leaving, one tonight and one tomorrow.” He watched you from the mirror, his fingers lightly dragging over his wounds while he was deep in thought. “They’ll know where to find us.” you spoke the implication out loud, giving you the time to think of a solution. “So what if we don’t go to America?” He stood, his eyes closing at the brusk movements, still not used to the level of care he needed to take when he moved, making his way to the small table where a bottle of wine had been discarded the night before, half of its contents still in it, two glasses lined up next to it but only one used.  “My family needs me.” “Yeah, alive.” “The Shelby’s have fucked with the business, I’ve got to fix their deeds.”  “But you can’t fix anything if they kill us tomorrow.” he opened his mouth, ready to protest, but you continued “I’m talking about one extra day, one stop before heading to America.”  The wine was sweet, calming his nerves in the slightest of ways. “What do you suggest?”  “Call your family, fill them in on what they haven’t figured out on their own. Then we pack our things, spend the night in each other's arms and when we wake up, we leave. The ship sets sail tomorrow at 9am.”  “You’ve planned this.” You nodded, looking at the man that stood before you with a pleased smile. You had spent enough time alone with your thoughts to come up with more than one plan, and this one was your favourite. A simple exit. You picked up the papers, the tickets for your journey, that had been abandoned on the desk, handing them to him with a wink.  “Italy. You’ve got family over there too, right? I’m sure you’ll be able to secure us a place to sleep for the night, and if not I guess we’ll just have to sleep under the stars.” You raised your hand dramatically, moving your fingers around an imaginary constellation. “Then we leave for America. One day, a small change in plan, and we’ll have the Shelby’s waiting for us here. Wrong place, wrong time, but not for us. And once we arrive, you’ll have all the time to fix what needs to be fixed. Deal?”  He took a second to think about it, pursing his lips in thought, watching as you waited patiently, switching your weight from one leg to the other. Then he nodded, your hands lifting in victory as you approached him, softly placing your arms on his shoulders.

“We have a deal.” 

[sanzu-sanzu-sanzu]

songs about toxic people 7*

Sanzu Haruchiyo X Reader

Summary: In which you are Bonten’s No. 2 and Sanzu is No. 3. Almost ten years of being stuck working together means you’re both bound to pick up on each other’s idiosyncrasies, yeah?

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*IMPORTANT NOTE: this is more like an interlude/bonus chapter actually centering more on misc bonten x reader Gen! interactions. it still ties in with the whole story, it’s just there’s less to zero sanzu in this one cus the focus will be more on the other bonten haha, so if you’re here exclusively for sanzu x reader, you may skip this if you like! 😬  

it’s just i got these headcanons that idk what to do with and also they are somewhat short 😭

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chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6

chapter 7: We may not be a perfect family but we love each other (until we don’t) - koko

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Koko thinks of cats when he thinks of you; partly from the circumstances of your first meeting, partly ‘cause of the way you sort of simply glide in and out of rooms quietly with the stealth and fluidity of one.

(Although Sanzu had insisted he thought more of ghosts and wraiths, a comment which Koko only made light of even though he wasn’t wrong.)

She even kinda fights like a feline, he’d told Inupi one time all those years ago, as he thought of the way your lithe and minimal movements were always able to take bigger guys down along with the quiet ferocity to match.

Maybe she learns from all the cats back in the shrine, Inupi responded—a joke, essentially, in his own terms. Koko suppressed a smile: cat and dog, you and her, maybe that’s why you two get along so well went his own, sad attempt at humor, because you and your second-in-command were obviously very close and very unlike cats and dogs. The joke, however, sadly did not seem to land, and Inupi’s forehead only creased, his expression dumbfounded.

That’s not how it works.

Koko never forgets the day you were first introduced by Mikey. It’s at the back of Toman’s abandoned shrine, at the edge of the thick forest surrounding the area, that their new leader had said they’ll be meeting Black Dragon’s temporary captain. He never specified what anyone would be doing in the forest at this hour in the afternoon, and neither him nor Inupi had asked, but then there you were: in your bare feet and in your school uniform, attempting to move a big pot of plant from one spot of land to another, your expression almost annoyed. (At the pot, most likely, which did not seem to budge.)

Mikey called your attention still a few meters afar:

“Hey. Whatcha up to��”

in a tone that very clearly did not seem to intend to place whatever you were up to above this particular Toman business at the moment, so really, it would not have made any difference whether you answered or not. Which you didn’t, only glancing at your president once—not with the angry expression, at least—before continuing with your ordeal.

The pot nudged just a tiny bit.

Only when Mikey finally stopped right in front of you and you noticed Koko’s and Inupi’s figures behind him did you finally stand straight, looking at Mikey quizzically. “What’s up?” Quick nods to Inupi and him. “Hello.”

Mikey briefly introduced all of you and proceeded to explain that you were to be formally placed as the Black Dragon’s new captain today, to which your eyes slightly widened.

“Oh, I thought you said tomorrow.”

Mikey hesitated at first but then shrugged. “Hm, they came here already today so I thought might as well. Come on, it’ll be quick.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and then to his two quiet companions but then so agreed anyway, and as Mikey ushered you in front nobody else aside from Koko seemed to notice your lack of shoes. You’d only taken a few steps ahead when you tugged at the sleeve of Mikey’s coat, making him pause.

“I don’t have my Toman jacket,” which was obvious but was not what Koko was expecting for you to say, if he were to be honest.

Mikey looked at you blankly. “Well, where is it?”

“Well, something happened to it,” was your only vague response, but then you turned your head to where you just came from making all three boys follow suit. On a wooden bench slightly obscured by the plants were a family of cats consisting of a mother and her kittens, all sleeping peacefully in a cozy pile on top of your balled up Toman jacket.

“Oh. Okay.” Mikey only nodded like he completely understood. Without thinking about it twice, Sano Manjiro, Tokyo Manji gang’s No. 1—feared around the streets of Tokyo, bowed to no one and stepped over everyone—took off his billowing Toman coat and draped it over your shoulders. “Here, you can borrow mine,” he simply said. “I mean, you gotta look the part.”

Your mouth stretched into a grin.

Beside him, Inupi gave Koko a quick, wordless glance accompanied by that tiny, upward curve on the corner of his mouth that anyone else could’ve missed. Inupi rarely smiled at anything anymore those days—perhaps one of the reasons why this singular, initial meeting had stuck in his mind all these years. It’s one of those memories Koko always thought he could probably live without, occupying a quiet little corner in his mind which, frankly, a much more practical or life-changing memory could have occupied, if it were up to him. But then there you were with your cats and your air of schoolgirl abandon making Inupi smile, an information that he simply didn’t know what to do about.

“Alright, boss. But please, no speeches.”

This made Mikey laugh. “Can’t promise you that, I’m sorry.” It’s only after a few more steps that Mikey did finally notice your bare feet.

“Where the hell are your shoes?”

“Oh, they got wet,” you quietly said. “I was playing with the cats…” and three pairs of eyes stared at you like it wasn’t enough of an answer. “With a hose. Manjiro, I was watering the plants.”

And so you stood atop the shrine steps while addressing the men from Black Dragons, your feet bare and covered in scratches and the Toman president’s much bigger coat over your shoulders. Nobody questioned the absence of shoes—at least not out loud—not with your leader Manjiro right by your side, in his flip flops holding a half-eaten taiyaki in one hand.

The memory comes unannounced in snips and pieces some years later as another Bonten meeting ends. There’s various movements around the table by now, but then Koko catches your undivided staring as you sat across from him, your chin propped up against one hand. He ignores you for a short while as he fixes his things, until he finally decides to look up.

“Anything wrong?”

You suddenly purse your lips in a small smile amidst the gloomy and rigid air of mid-morning Monday meetings and for a moment, it’s as if Koko is thinking of another memory.

“I just realized you kinda look like my Mr. Kaku,” is all you say. The little remark makes not-your Kakucho look up from the document he’s reading without really turning his head, while Rindou who is seated beside you squints—in curiosity or amusement, Koko can’t tell. From his own right side, Takeomi is slowly angling his head as if meaning to take a better look at Koko behind his curtain of silver hair.

Mr. Kaku, of course, is your pet cat, the one with the smooth silver fur that you’d rescued from an abandoned site during an out-of-town business trip some months ago. You and your unimaginative pet naming sense landed on “Mr. Kaku,” in honor of your then-partner Kakucho who had volunteered to keep the cat inside his bag thru the doors of the hotel that didn’t allow pets. But he looks nothing like Kaku, Manjiro had quipped, earning a few grunts of approval from your ever-biased circle, but you couldn’t have been bothered so you stuck with the name.

Koko is quick to decipher that in your-speak, cat comparisons are more or less compliments and never a form of insult—not that in your mid-20s, you all haven’t already gotten above petty verbal affronts, after all. So he humors you, eyes now back to his things but with his attention still on the matter at hand. “What, is it the hair?”

“Yeah, it’s the hair,” Rindou says before you can answer, his head lolling lazily on one shoulder. “Can’t believe no one had noticed before.”

“And the eyes,” you simply nod. “They both got these nice, sharp eyes.”

Would you have named him Mr. Koko if you thought he resembled Kokonoi before? is the one lingering question that none of the men around you bother to ask.

It’s only a couple of weeks later, after another Bonten meeting, when Koko hands you a souvenir from his weekend business trip: a red cat collar with a customized pendant, a tiny enamel engraving of your Bonten tattoo. The pendant is black on one side and gold on the other, and the small gasp you let out makes every head in the room turn—the almost unfamiliar, genuine sound of delight thawing the usual morning’s stern atmosphere.

“There’s a shop right across the hotel where they make rush engravings like that.” Koko is saying casually like it’s no big deal, but he sees the expression on your face and he can’t help but grin. “Thought Mr. Kaku might like it.”

Your eyes perk up at the mention of ‘Mr. Kaku’ like Koko is the first person to ever acknowledge that Mr. Kaku doesn’t need to be named anything else apart from ‘Mr. Kaku.’ “Oh, it’s perfect, Koko. I’ll send you pictures once I make him wear it,” you say, your attention instantly back to your hands, choosing to ignore his ‘I think just one picture might be enough.’

From the other end of the room, Sanzu is making his way towards the door. “Congratulations,” he smirks as he passes by behind you, quirking one eyebrow up at Koko. “Now she won’t be shutting up about it all weekend,” because Sanzu will be spending the next three days with you over in another city to conduct business with another drug scion, of course.

Across the table, Kakucho only sighs before shaking his head. “I still wish you could’ve picked a better name for your cat,” he says—a valid complaint, Koko thinks bemusedly, now that your own Mr. Kaku looks more like a feline version of himself.

chapter 8 >

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this one goes out to my closest friends the ones who make me feel less alien

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[aetheternity]

Hi, I hope you’re having a lovely day💓 I love your Levi scenarios so much

Can you write a Levi smut where he completely dominates his s/o and they cuddle at the end 😉😉😉

Sure np 🥰 I hope you don't mind if I add cockwarming to this.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff and Cockwarming

Synopsis: Sugar Daddy Levi once again missed plans with you and you've had it

Five hours and counting. You thought as you looked at your watch. It wasn't like it was out of the ordinary for Levi to keep you waiting. But today it felt slightly more agitating.

Four hours ago he promised he'd be ready in time for dinner, three hours ago he told you to stay put and that he'd be done soon and an hour ago he promised his baby would get a sweet reward in her bank account tomorrow if she kept quiet.

At this point you'd pretty much had it with keeping quiet. You walked upstairs to the dismay of one of Levi's most trusted servants Eren and in a flash he was beside you.

"What're you doing?" He asked

It wasn't normal for him to talk like that with anyone else in the house but you. The two of you having had been somewhat close for years and you'd come to call him a friend.

"What does it look like?"

He hooked his arm into yours. "I can't even begin to explain how much crap you'll get if you disturb Levi again." He practically hissed. "You know how angry he can get."

"He'll also get angry if I tell him we talk in private and you have my home number."

Eren released you with a sigh. "Knock first."

You made your way up the stairs, knocking twice but ultimately just bursting into his office. His gaze when you planted your hands down on his desk was frightening to say the least but you braced yourself repositioning your feet as you spoke,

"I'm pretty sure we missed our dinner reservations."

He wordlessly pointed with his pen to the stack of papers on his desk, eyes still fixed on you.

"I know but-"

He tapped the stack with the cap of his pen.

"Levi.."

Two more taps and he was finally relinquishing his gaze to his work.

"You can't possibly care more about your work than me!" You huffed, you couldn't quite see the look on his face but you knew he was rolling his eyes. You'd been a bit bratty lately but it was partly just for the fun of seeing how far you could push Levi in one direction. "Maybe I'll just get another sugar daddy." You spat

His pen froze and you could practically hear everything in the house including outside the house freeze. Like the universe was feeling your impending doom.

"Tch."

You couldn't really tell if saying things like that to Levi actually bugged him but those words had always been the perfect switch to make him do almost anything.

Levi blinked up at you before unfastening his belt, tugging it out of the loops. It quickly clattered to the floor. He beckoned you over and you practically raced to his side. In the same amount of time he'd undid his zipper holding his cock up before taking your hand to replace his.

You quickly dropped to your knees but he yanked you back up, seating you on his lap. "Levi.." You muttered

He sighed into your touch. It'd been a little while since Levi had let you hold his cock. The feeling of warm skin beneath your grasp made you squeeze your thighs closer together.

He got fully hard pretty quickly and once he was there he removed your hand. With a small tap of his foot to your ankle you were removing your shoes letting them clatter against the smooth hardwood floor.

He smoothly grabbed your waist turning you around and hiking up your dress. Your panties were the next article of clothing to go and you almost smiled when you noticed he'd stuffed it into his pocket.

It hadn't taken long for you to get wet enough for him to use to slick the tip of his cock and a bit of the shaft. Fingers raised up to your mouth, pushing past puckered lips to gather more lubrication. Once he'd finished he pressed his cock head to your entrance quickly sliding all the way in with a low huff that almost didn't register over your own moaning.

You immediately began to lift your hips but he held you down. Your confusion was quickly met with a tap of his pen on the same documents that had completely ruined your night the first time.

"Fuck, Levi!" You heaved in agitation.

His gaze drifted back to the stack on his desk, "Can't imagine why you're complaining. You were getting my dick tonight either way."

You let out a whiny moan when Levi scooted his chair a little closer to his desk somehow completely ignoring the way his cock poked around inside your walls. You leaned your head back in a temporary truce, toes curling as every inch of Levi filled you up.

He had your thighs spread in a way that kept your feet off the ground and you knew if you even dared to touch your clit he'd make you suffer. Though you did have one trick you could use..

Levi was definitely way more aroused than his face would let on. The slight twitching of his cock when you experimentally squeezed around him giving it all away. You shut your eyes, keeping the rest of your body as still as possible as you gave him another slightly rougher squeeze.

Delight filled your face the second you saw Levi's eyebrow twitch. You had him. Like always. Suddenly his hand flew up to grab your throat, fingers curling hard enough to make you gasp. You sucked in a breath as he tugged you closer.

"I asked for one thing and you can't do it?" His breath fanned your cheek, lips ghosting over your ear canal. "Clearly, I spoil you too fucking much."

He ripped his hand off your throat, returning to his paperwork expression never changing. In the heat of the moment a daze fell over you but once the current situation began to set in again you couldn't help but grind your teeth.

~~~~

Almost an hour had passed by the time Levi finally picked you up, shoving your elbows against his desk with no warning. Your fingers scratching against the smooth wood, his cock retreating from your entrance to the tip before he was pressing back in all at once.

"Daaadddyyy.." The moan you let out was needy and whiny but you couldn't careless.

"Finally managed to get you to be quiet and still while I finished my work." Levi grunted, pushing your dress further up your hips. "Would've taken less time if you'd listened hmm? Little brat."

You both moaned in unison as the head of his cock hit your g-spot.

"Mm, is this what you wanted? That why you've been so childish?"

"Y-yes daddy.."

His pace wasn't too fast, just hard enough to get your knees shaking and your thighs inching apart.

He pressed in deeper and you gasped at the angle, the desk shaking under you. The low rattling of the poor furniture echoing off the walls. A burning heat already beginning to fill your stomach as he roughly held your waist in place barely pulling his cock out with every thrust.

A low growl from the back of his throat sent chills up your spine. His soft hand inching its way back down, thumb etching against the velvety skin of your belly. With a tight squeeze he was making your head fall back.

"Feel that baby?" He whispered, breath equivalent to fire setting your skin ablaze. He kissed the tip of your ear. "That's me. You like how I feel?"

Your toes curled, eyes rolling shut with every curve of Levi's cock stretching your walls. Your sweet spots throughly assaulted as you pressed back into his hips.

All you could do was let out a loud exhale in reply. Your hips probably properly red from slamming against his desk repeatedly. The other hand that had stayed on your waist ran its way up your back till it was cupping your face, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"Answer."

"Y-yes.."

He grumbled, teeth grinding over the shell of your ear. "Yes, what?"

"Yes daddy.." You cried out.

The hand on your stomach reached back to cup your ass quickly being joined by his other hand spreading you open and pulling you back a little rougher. A deep groan crested off his lips as he plunged as deep as he could go. The sounds of your skin and his colliding impressively loud.

It wasn't like he hadn't fucked you against his desk before but the sounds of it creaking beneath you sounded way more intense than ever before but Levi didn't seem to give it a second thought.

Papers quickly begin to drop off his desk and the lamp on the edge teetering a bit.

"Daddy." You begged, fingernails scraping up small bits of wood.

"Go ahead, push yourself over."

It was tough with the angle and all but you managed to hook your hand between your legs involuntarily squeezing around Levi at the first stroke of your clit.

"Shit.." He panted

You absolutely adored the sound of him coming undone. The hitch of his breath and the way his leg twitched against you.

"Almost.. I'm about to.." You gasped, toes balled up against his floor.

Your hand curled into a fist, slamming against his desk a couple times before you were letting loose with an almost frustrated scream. Not even caring who could hear. Your throat had become impressively dry as you came squeezing so tightly around Levi that he paused for just a second weakly gasping.

"Ohhhh fuuccck." He grunted a little moan following it.

A hand shot up to your neck holding your head up while the other hand traveled up your dress. Smooth fingers pressing and squeezing at your nipples before traveling back down to your waist.

His breath was practically sulfurous on your already sweltering skin. "I'm soooooo fucking close.. I'm gonna fill your pretty pussy, ok."

You huffed, the hand around your neck tightening. His grey eyes fell dark, eyelids fluttering shut. The hand on your waist fell to his desk and you could practically hear his nails seeping through the wood.

His forehead fell to yours followed by an intense moan that would've definitely made you fall to the ground had you not been holding on for dear life. A plethora of curses tainting your ears as he fucked you through his orgasm.

Once both of you had settled down he stepped back allowing you to stand. With a deep breath you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a deep kiss. The feeling of Levi's fingers hooking under your thighs surprised you but you allowed it letting out a little chuckle as he hoisted you up.

His bare feet slapped against the floor as he quickly guided you to his room down the hall. He let the door slam behind him placing you gently on the bed.

His tongue slid its way between your lips as he tugged his pants and boxers completely off. Dark hair tickling your forehead and you couldn't help but reach up to brush it aside.

He pulled back sliding his thumbs over your shoulder and then over the fabric of your dress. "Off." He demanded

You quickly complied inching the dress down off your shoulders once Levi had unzipped the back. It quickly fluttered to the ground and you watched as Levi pulled himself up to the head of the bed. His hands quickly coming up to cup both sides of your bra before that was quickly discarded as well.

He let out a soft hum. "Hurry up, take this off me." He said gesturing to his jacket and button up.

"How long do you plan on keeping this pair of panties?" You questioned with a grin. The gorgeous white lace peeked over the top of the dark blue pocket.

"Forever."

"Leeevvviii." You pouted

"Tch, I give you enough money weekly to buy 4 houses you could fill with panties."

You smirked undoing the last button on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. It didn't really seem to matter how often you saw his chest it still brought heat to your cheeks. One of your hands slid up his toned abdomen as he tugged you back into a kiss.

You curved both your hands up to his jawline etching your thumb up something so sharp you swear it could cut diamonds. A smile brought to your lips at the thought.

It didn't take long for the tip of his tongue to prod its way into your mouth. His breath catching at the way you bit down as he pushed it deep inside. In the same instance he cupped your thighs yanking you into his lap poking his tip up to your entrance.

His eyes opened and your breath caught as he pushed inside. Lips parting with the arch of your back, your gasp heavy and thick bouncing impressively well of the walls.

"Oh god, Levi.."

The snap of his hips was damn near violent and you practically choked. "What have I told you about calling me Levi when I'm fucking you?" He grunted

"Mmm soorrryy daddy." You playfully pouted and he rewarded you with deeper thrusts.

He wasn't quite pounding against you this time but it was still intense enough to have your thighs shaking in his lap. You allowed yourself to softly squeeze around him immediately titillated at the low exhale he let out.

His eyelids fell halfway, cheeks already becoming full of color as he rocked his hips into you.

"I'll get a new.. reservation tomorrow...." Levi sighed, watching as his cock sheathed itself inside your clenching pussy.

"Still.. thinking about that?" Levi might work a lot but he always managed to find someway to make it up and sometimes that was your favorite thing about him.

"Mm." It was hard to interpret that as an answer to your question or a groan. Possibly both.

Your left hand tangled itself in his hair while the nails on your right hand dug into his shoulder with each deep delve of his cock. Soft moans spilling off your lips.

The bed heaved its own remarks with each clap of Levi's skin meeting yours. The coil in your belly only tightening as Levi reached out to palm your breasts. His touch remarkably delicate.

Your forehead fell against his, flinching a little at the mix of sweat coupled with his hair sticking to the sides of his face. Thighs spasming where they were squeezing around his body.

The strong sensation of Levi shuddering inside you continued to build and your head fell back again. Craving the sweet overwhelming climax that was slowly getting more and more heavy inside you.

"Daddy.."

You were met with a low moan into your shoulder. His thrusts were quickly becoming reckless and uneven. Within seconds the two of you were writhing uncontrollably.

"Dadddyy.. I'm there.." You cried out

The uncoiling of your stomach had you squeezing around Levi in every way possible. Eyes squeezing shut as your hips left your control completely. His own orgasm immediately following yours with a myriad of sweet moans. Body plastered to yours as if you were his lifeline.

You squeezed your legs closed as he pulled out placing you on the bed next to him. His grey eyes softening as he came down from his high, pulling you in closer till your chests were pressed tightly together.

"See, now how could work be better than that?" You giggled

He rolled his eyes but pulled you in for a chaste kiss tangling his legs with yours. "I never said it was better. But if you wanna keep living in your apartment you'll be grateful for the work I do."

"I'm always grateful, daddy."

"Don't you dare start me up again." He muttered, eyelids fluttering shut.

You waited until his breathing evened out and his body grew slack to lean into his ear. "Thank you Levi."

[parkers-gal]

why pt. ii T.H.

wc: 1.7k

when you’re never truly over them

Tom had left for the press tour. After staying up all night crying and sobbing to the point of almost growing sick, he had left. He should've texted you, should've ran after you the minute you slammed the door on his face. 

To be honest, you weren't as heartbroken as you thought you would've been. The events leading up to this 'break-up' had pretty much prepared you for the worst. It was only a matter of time before the tension broke and somebody exploded; you had expected it, but you hadn't expected to break up with him. You also didn't expect him to actually leave for the press tour, but Tom was full of surprises. 

Now, in May, you were beginning to pack up your belongings into boxes. Tom hadn't made it easy though, because it was your house too. Everything you owned was a constant reminder of the person you used to be: happy and carefree, vulnerable and raw. Tom had destroyed that person, and all for a  few week's worth of partying with a jerk he knew from school. 

Each time you grew sad, you thought about everything that went wrong, and anger bubbled within you. You were stuck in this loop, lost on where to go next.

[Your Best friend] was helping you through the entire thing. And while she was completely supportive of your decision to move out, she also knew that you'd be better off with Tom. You had never been happier in your entire lifetime, and she knew your stubborn demeanor would only cause more destruction. 

She had called Tom the moment you stepped back into that house with a box. He picked up on the second ring, slightly confused as to why she would call him. 

"Hello?"

"Thomas," [your best friend] deadpanned. 

"What- uh.. what's up?"

"You need to keep fighting."

"Fighting?" Tom repeated, confusion lacing his voice.

"Fighting for you and Y/N," she had replied. "You can't give up, not now, after everything you've been through. You can't tell me it's not worth the effort."

Tom was silent for a minute. Not because he thought she was wrong, but because he wasn't sure how he could keep fighting when it seemed as though you had already given up. 

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Tom, you can't solve this problem from across the world. You need to be here, with her, for her." 

"She doesn't want me." 

"That's not true, and you know it. Cut the bullshit or you won't ever get her back." And with that, [your best friend] had hung up. 

Harrison was also supportive of the idea of getting you two back together; Tom was more of a mess than he would admit. He was knee deep in his own sorrow and pity. It seemed as though there was no motivation when you weren't there supporting him. 

While you weren't together, that didn't mean you stopped supporting him. Tom was an important part of your life, and you could never stop loving him. Despite what you said that night, you could never truly stop your affection for the brown-eyed-boy. 

"Y/N," [your best friend] spoke. It was week two of the move, and she was watching you pack. "C'mon, stop."

"What?" You replied, somewhat bitterly. 

"I know you don't want to leave this."

"This?" you said, hand gestures motioning to the room around you. "What is 'this'?" 

"This life, these people," she replied. "You still love hi-"

But she didn't get to finish her sentence, because the front door had just closed. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because neither Tom nor Harrison were due back for months; they were the only other people who had a key to the house. 

You were out of the bedroom in seconds, jogging down the stairs as [your best friend] followed you. When you reached the bottom, you froze, your jaw lightly open as you stared at who had just arrived. 

It was Tom, clad in grey sweats and a black tee shirt. Harrison was behind him, setting the luggage near the coat hanger as he looked to [your best friend], both of them simultaneously leaving the room. 

"Y/N," Tom had said after a few moments of silence.

You didn't reply, only looking up to his eyes before crossing your arms and looking at your feet shyly. Memories of a similar encounter had just flooded through your mind. Your first date, the first time you slept together, all of it similar in a fashion of shyness and awkwardness, but never tension. 

"I didn't think you'd actually move out." 

At this, you glanced up. "What else was I supposed to do? Stay here until you came back?"

He looked at you as if you were supposed to know the answer; know what he wanted, and you did.

"God, Tom. I don't need you, you know? I'm not completely, 100 percent dependent on you. I'm not a baby, and you can't honestly expect me to come running to you whenever I need help." 

"I never said you needed me," Tom defended.

"You didn't have to say it. We both knew it." 

"Bullshit, Y/N."

"Bullshit?" You interrupted.

"I've never once thought that." 

"Bullshit!" You repeated. 

"C'mon, you can't honestly say that I've thought of you that way," he said, his hand moving in a gesture. 

"Really?" You laughed sarcastically. 

"What?" Tom spoke harshly. "Is that hard to believe? I know you aren't dependent on anyone else, Y/N. Don't try to twist this." 

Your eyes were wide as you took in his words, more frustration bubbling up inside you. "Twist this?" You motioned between the two of you before your hands went up in defeat. "I didn't twist anything! I'm just trying to expose what you fucked up!" 

"What 'I fucked up'?" Tom repeated, his eyes rolling in disbelief. "There are two people in this relationship!"

"A relationship that failed because of one person!" You screamed finally. 

"And you're suggesting that was me?"

"Well it's not like I did anything!" You argued. "I broke this off because you were doing more harm then good!"

"It was just a phase!" Tom debated. 

"Being an asshole isn't a phase," You spat out. "It's developed, and you were with just the right people for it to show." 

"You're calling me a secretive asshole, now?" 

"Your words, Tom! Not mine," You yelled. "Did I fucking say that? Ever? I said you were an asshole!"

"Yeah, but you implied that I've always been an asshole!" 

"You shouldn't have been an asshole in the first place!" You replied, walking away from the front door and heading into the living room to fill the box that was sat near the couch. Tom followed in suit, wondering where Harrison and [your best friend] had gone, because he knew the yelling wasn't over, and it would echo throughout the house, regardless of where they were hiding. 

"Honestly, Tom," you started. "Did you only come back to start another argument?"

His face was deep in confusion, his eyes rolling once again. "I came back to fix us." 

" 'Us,' Tom? I've already told you: there is no us." 

"You know that's not true." 

At this, you were silent. A part of you longed to be back in his arms, but the sensible part of you knew he royally fucked up, and mending things between you two wouldn't be this easy. 

"Then what're you gonna do?" You asked after a moment. "Keep arguing? Keep screwing up?" You looked him in the eye with a harsh stare. "Or are you gonna grow up and take responsibility? 'M not your girl anymore." 

As your sentence ended, your voice grew quieter, the truth finally exposed. Both of you were varieties of broken and vulnerable, frustration and anger threatening to spill out in the form of endless salty tears. Both of you were slightly panting, breathing noises being the only contribution to noise in the entire house. 

Tom was a few feet away from you, his curls disheveled from when he was previously running his hands through them. When your last sentence finished, something in his eyes had snapped, and he was moving forward and closer to you, alarmingly fast.

And then, he was kissing you. Each of his hands were holding your face. He was slightly shaking, and that was when you realized he was crying. The kiss was deep and passionate and overwhelmingly emotional. He tasted just how you remembered: like cinnamon. His lips were warm and soft and enveloping, and the minute he made contact, you had melted into his touch. Tom was your greatest weakness, though you wish he didn't have such an affect on you. Tom had a soft spot for you and you only, and it never failed to swoon you and win you over. 

The kiss seemed to last for hours, and you weren't complaining. You had missed this. When it ended, Tom was still holding your face as your foreheads touched. Both of you were breathing even harder, but your arms  were around his neck now. He held you tight and lovingly, almost as if you would slip right through his fingers and out of his grasp like you had a few weeks ago. He was lightly sniffling, but the tears had stopped falling.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of Tom. You were almost nostalgic, and the idea of being his was what brought you out of your daze. 

Tom was staring at you now, looking down into your eyes and taking in your beauty. He didn't know how he could be so stupid and clumsy when it came to your love, and he promised himself he wouldn't ever make that mistake again. You were a powerful woman who knew what she deserved, and what Tom gave you wasn't it. You deserved love and affection and care and intimacy and warmth and commitment, things Tom was certain would come in the future.

After a considerably long moment of silence, Tom spoke. His voice was rough and raspy and deep, and he was whispering. His lips were barely touching yours; just ghosting over them, anticipation for what was to come next: words or action. For you, words came first. "I'm still in love with you." 

And then he kissed you again. 

[aquagirl1978]

To New Beginnings - Lovestruck AU Fanfic - Various Love Interests

A/N: I thought I was done with the original trilogy, but Antares returning brought a fourth chapter out of me. In this chapter, the group gathers to say goodbye to the LIs that are returning for new routes. I was inspired by @aliboo's amazing artwork in where she created "glam" portraits of some LIs (permission granted by @aliboo to repost)

Credit to @violettduchess for creating this amazing AU where all the retired LIs continue to exist - her story can be found HERE.

Warnings: None

Tagging: @mcira @enchantedlovestruckfan @otakufangirl-12 @fan-girl-2 @remys-lucky-franc

****************************

"Here you go, Nikolai. Just as you asked," she said with a wink as she pressed the martini into his hand. "Shaken, not stirred."

"Niko, you've truly taken to the notion of the masquerade party, completely transforming yourself into your chosen character," Remy announced as he swept into the room. He sat across from Nikolai in a plush velvet lounge chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. "Aeryn, is my tea ready yet?" he asked, a faint Russian accent slipping into his voice.

Nikolai peered at Remy over his martini glass, his brows furrowed. "Now who are you supposed to be?"

"Why you, of course!" Remy exclaimed, his green eyes sparkling with joy. "Onyx was kind enough to find me some turtlenecks. You remember your phase years ago when all you wore were these things?" Remy tugged at the neck with his fingers. "How did you do it, these are dreadfully constricting?" When he noticed Nikolai's mouth agape, with no words coming forth, Remy continued, returning to his French accent. "Anyway, I thought you'd be flattered I chose to dress as you, Niko."

"I'm not sure flattered is the word I would choose. Perhaps, instead..."

"He's flattered, Remy," Aeryn interjected, placing a gentle hand on Nikolai's thigh. "He's just not there yet."

"Oh no, no. Not more of this!" Nikolai shouted when Jett and Leon entered the room. Jett was dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored black suit jacket. Leon was sporting a plaid button-down shirt and black suspenders.

"When Remy told us who he was dressing as, we thought we'd join in the fun," Jett said. "I also never thought I'd ever get Leon to wear my suspenders."

"How much convincing did he need?" Remy asked.

"Not nearly as much as you'd think," Jett replied, gently elbowing Leon in the ribs. "It suits you, Daddy," Jett added with a smirk.

Leon's cheeks immediately turned pink. "Stop. Just stop."

"Don't you two look cute," Sevastian snickered, leaning lazily against the wall.

Nikolai nearly dropped his glass. "Now who are you supposed to be?" His face was blanched; Nikolai looked truly terrified by the wicked prince.

Sevastian pushed himself from the wall and made his way to the nearby mirror to fix his hair in the reflection. "Dave...something?"

"David Bowie!" Jett shrieked in Nikolai's ear as he plopped down next to him on the couch.

Nikolai arched an eyebrow. "I assume you had something to do with this?" Nikolai gestured towards Sevastian.

"I think you look great," Aeryn offered, ignoring Nikolai.

"You think so?" Sevastian asked sincerely to which Aeryn nodded. "Do you think she will come?" he whispered, speaking only to her.

Today was a special occasion. Normally, this group of retired LIs celebrated when an LI joined them when their route ended. But today...today they say goodbye to some of their friends. Antares, Nova and Aurora were leaving them to start new adventures with new MCs. To mark this momentous occasion, some of the current LIs and MCs were coming to bring them back.

Sevastian, of course, sent word to his MC, inviting her to join him at this party. He went as far as to tell her he was dressing up, and with Jett's help, gave her an idea or two of who she could come as.

"Yes," Aeryn replied, smiling. "Of course, she will come. And I'm dying to meet her!" Sevastian brightened, a small smile forming on his lips.

Remy stood and clapped his hands. “Let’s go mingle with the others. Can’t hide here in our little corner all night,” he added with a chuckle, winking at Nikolai. The group stood and followed Remy to the party. Nikolai begrudgingly joined them, Aeryn’s hand clasped firmly in his.

“How’s this all going to work…an LI paired with a new MC?” Jett asked as they entered the main room. The party was in full swing, with some of the partygoers dressed in costume and others remaining in their regular clothes. Unlike parties of the past, the music was not loud and booming, but rather somewhat subdued. There was a sense of sadness lingering in the room; usually these parties were to welcome a friend, not say goodbye to one.

“It’s cheating, if you ask me,” Leon replied, grabbing a glass of champagne from a nearby tray. “I would never want to return with a new LI.” Leon smiled at Aeryn as he spoke, his eyes twinkling with love.

“I agree with Leon. I would never want to come back with a new MC,” Nikolai added, placing a sweet kiss on the top of Aeryn’s head.

“I would gladly come back,” Remy interjected.

“That’s simply because you only got 4 seasons,” Nikolai said with a smirk. Remy scoffed, mock affronted.

“Oh look,” Aeryn said while grabbing Nikolai’s arm, an obvious move to change subjects. “Look at Atlas! Is he --?”

Nikolai peered over Aeryn’s shoulder, observing the pilot in the distance. Atlas was wearing a shabby black vest over a plain shirt that once upon a time might have been white. His MC was with him, her hair in a style he could only describe as appearing to be cinnamon buns. Atlas was, much to Nikolai’s shock, positively glowing. His cheeks were a ruddy red and he was roaring with laughter.

“He is most definitely plastered!” Jett snickered.

“He’s just excited the Emperor is leaving. Means more time with his MC,” Sevastian noted wistfully.

"Where's Antares, Nova and Rory?" Remy questioned.

"Nova and Rory said their goodbyes last night. Antares early this morning," Leon answered. "They wanted their final moments to be private. As they should be." The group murmured in silent agreement.

“Speaking of MCs…. shouldn’t the others be here by now?” Aeryn asked, glancing around the room. Off to the side, Aeryn spotted Darius chatting with Cal and Wrath. Only Darius was dressed up in a leather jacket and, for some unknown reason, wearing sunglasses indoors. Aeryn couldn’t put her finger on who he was supposed to be, but knew he was trying to be someone.

“Slater,” Nikolai groaned painfully, “please tell me you were not responsible for that.” Nikolai pointed an angry finger at Sascha. The entire group cringed as they watched Sascha dance dramatically around the room, dressed all in black, his face covered in black and white markings.

“Bloody hell,” Jett uttered. “No. Absolutely no. I had nothing to do with that.”

"Does anyone know who that is?" Aeryn points out an attractive brunette dressed in a maroon off-the-shoulder jumpsuit.

"She's kinda cute," Remy leered. Nikolai rolled his eyes at the Frenchman.

"She reminds me of my race car driving days, but I don't know her from anywhere," Leon reminisced. "Maybe she is..."

"They're here, they're FINALLY here!" Onyx's voice rang throughout the room.

Sevastian nervously glanced around the room, his fingers fidgeting by his sides. They're here; she is here. That is, if she came. What if she's not here? What if she wanted to, but couldn't come?

Sevastian was so preoccupied by his rambling thoughts that he didn't notice Aeryn approached him until she was under his nose. "You won't find her standing here," she said softly, urging him to search for his love.

With a smirk, Sevastian turned, and headed towards the crowd. Please let her be here, please, please, please. He thought it was her when he spotted a flash of red in the crowd, but it was only Cecelia. And he ran into Darius again. He stopped and began to seriously fret that perhaps his love just couldn't come. And then he felt it.

It hit him so fast; their connection had laid dormant for so long that he almost didn't recognize it. He didn't need to see her to know she was there, he felt her. Their connection tugged at his heart as a sense of serenity washed over him, stilling him to his spot.

A pair of hands slid over Sevastian's eyes as a familiar voice tickled his ear. "I almost didn't recognize you." Krystal felt his body slump against hers in quiet relief. He moved her hands from his eyes down to his lips, where he brushed a kiss on the inside of her wrist, before finally settling her hands around his waist. "So warm," she teased, as she soaked in his scent. He huffed out a small laugh as he intertwined his fingers with hers, enjoying the press of her body against his.

He shifted in her arms, unable to wait even a second longer. He had to see her, taste her, feel her. He cradled her face in his hands; his eyes gazed down upon her, admiring her like she was his own special gem, while his thumbs grazed her pink cheeks.

“I missed you.” Her lip trembled as she whispered the words. Krystal looked up at him expectantly, her turquoise eyes full of love, shimmering against the lights of the party. His thumb brushed against her lower lip, causing Krystal to sigh and shiver against his taut body.

With eyes closed, his mouth found hers. He buried his hands in her hair, pulling her closer to him. Breathing in her sweet, floral scent, the scent he gave her, he deepened the kiss, his tongue twisting and twirling around hers. They soon parted, both panting, foreheads still touching.

He eventually pulled back, curious to see how she looked. His breath hitched when he saw what she had done to herself – her fiery locks were teased, curls spilling down past her bare shoulders, and on her face, her skin was adorned with sparkling jewels and gems.

“You’re ridiculous.” She slid her hands in the open cut of his shirt, resting her palms on his bare chest, his heartbeat quickening under her touch. “A very sexy ridiculous, but still…” She rose on tiptoe and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Ridiculous.”

“And you, my love, are magnificent.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, nudging her closer, and kissed her again. They stood there, embraced in one another’s arms for what felt like both an eternity and a split second. “I have some friends I’d like you to meet,” he murmured tentatively into her hair.

Taking his hand in hers, Krystal looked up at his, smiling brightly. “I’d love to.”

After introducing Krystal to the group, everyone gathered by the bar for a much-needed drink.

“I see he is still having fun,” Leon pointed to the pilot, who was surprisingly still standing after all this time.

“Let the lovebirds have fun, Leon!” Aeryn chided.

“I agree,” added Krystal. She nuzzled against Sevastian as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

Leon, Jett and Remy all look down into their drinks and groaned in unison. Nikolai shared a knowing look with Sevastian, winking at the Winter Prince. It was good to see him smiling again.

“What does someone have to do to get a drink around here?” a voice from behind called out arrogantly.

“Spoiled by your private bar, eh, Emperor?” Atlas called out from the other side of the bar. Antares sighed and shook his head. He glanced over by the pilot, and saw his MC.

His face immediately fell, and he awkwardly adjusted his necktie. “Stupid blasted costume,” he muttered to himself. “Should have worn my uniform, would have been happier…” Antares looked over at his MC again. She was holding Atlas’ hands, leaning into every word he was saying. Probably regaling her with some stories about his days with the Union. Antares scoffed. Antares had stories, many more left to be told. Only now they will be shared with a new MC.

He picked up his glass of honey wine and before he could take a sip, he noticed everyone staring at him. “Yes?”

“Let’s make a toast,” Remy announced. He held his glass up and the others followed. “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” Antares whispered.

[heart-strong]

An Ode To Science Beaker PJ’s- Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

gif credit to @0420-1102​

Summary: gn!reader takes care of Spencer after coming home from being held captive by Tobias Hankel (season 2 episode 14 and 15). Reader and Spencer have been dating for two years.

A/N: YALL I think my fics are just going to be long because I love writing so much and I haven’t had writing inspiration in so long. Thank you for all the kind words about I Have a Fever, if you haven’t checked out my first Spencer/ Criminal Minds fic yet please do I’m so proud of it but heres this new one! 

Also I mention this in my About me section but I’ll mention it here, I think Penelope and I are similar in that we call everyone “darling” just as a term of endearment, so penny calls reader darling that it.

This is also part one of a two-part set. I wanted to add a little more comfort but I loved the natural end to this without it. It is not written yet so I don’t know when it will be posted but I will link it here. when it is posted.

There is going to be smut in part two (An Ode to Golden Ratio PJs) and while there are still gender natural pronouns reader is going to have female anatomy. I’ve never written smut before and female anatomy is what I know from personal experience.

WC: 2.8k

TW: Regular cm stuff and topics covered in season 2 episode 14 and 15, (DID, dilaudid, self harm, abduction), talk and description of self harm but no relapse, any others let me know I’ll add it no question.

Again pt. 2 here

----

Spencer Reid and you had been dating since the two of you were set up on a sorta blind date by your mutual best friend Penelope Garcia. While you couldn’t possibly know everything that Spencer went through you had some idea from being Penny’s friend for years. Two years strong with Spencer and you felt like you were starting to know him better than his team.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and you were out with the team. The game was over and Spencer, Anderson, yourself, and a few other FBI agents you had just met that night were sharing a table. You are draped on Spencer’s shoulder watching him getting quizzed by Anderson when JJ walks by, she ruffles his hair and takes a phone call outside. You fix the curls out of Spencer’s eyes and kiss his cheek when he answers the question just in the nick of time.

And then there’s a case. The team was called to Georgia and everything was going well, or as well as a murder investigation can go when one night Spencer missed his usual phone call with you. He would check-in, at least a minute, letting you know he was okay. So you weren’t surprised when Penelope knocked on your door.

“Hi, darling. Um, I am going to go to Georgia and I wanted to tell you because, well because you and Spence. Somethings wrong. You may want to sit down.”

“What happened to him?” you motion Penelope into your apartment and to your couch.

“Well, uh, boy wonder and JJ were sent to a witness’s house to question him. But the witness well he was the unsub.”

“What?” you look at your best friend. You didn’t want to believe what you were thinking.

“Tobias Hankel, uh the uh unsub took Spencer. I am going because he is highly skilled with computers. I promise you, I will bring him back to you.”

“Okay, so what do we know? Do we know if he’s okay?”

“The team has a video feed on him. They can’t track him, so I’m going to go. That’s my specialty darling, I’ll get him back to you. The image we have of him is okay right now. He’s tied to a chair and clearly wounded but he is okay. The unsub has multiple personalities and one of his personalities is feeding him and giving him water.”

“Okay sounds good. You leaving now then?”

“Right now. I knew you needed to know before I left though. I love you darling stay strong for your boy wonder.” Penelope popped up off the couch as you rose and gave you a tight squeeze before floating out the door.

“Yeah okay. Love you too.” you followed and closed yourself out of the world.

It was another three days. Three days of not hearing from Spencer, but at least you knew why. He was being held captive. Three days of knowing your boyfriend was in pain and danger, a murderer holding him and streaming his whereabouts to his friends. No word from Spencer. No word from Penny. No word from no one.

Until you woke up to Derek Morgan calling you at 2:30 in the morning.

“Hello? Derek is everything okay?”

“(y/n),” it was Spencer. His voice was rough and scratchy and maybe a couple of octaves lower.

“Holy shit Spencer. You’re okay.”

“I’m safe. And I’m going to be with you as soon as possible baby. I just have to go to the hospital first.”

“Spencer Walter Reid come home to me as soon as humanly possible. I just need you.”

“We’re headed to the hospital now. It’s just bruising and a gash on my head.”

You heard the team behind him and just needed him. Safe in your arms, safe out of the field.

“Spence just come to my apartment when you get home and I can take care of you.” you hear Morgan wolf whistle from your words. “I’m glad he can make jokes right now, that helps me know you are fine.”

It was so early you tried to go back to sleep. But you couldn’t, finally getting out of your bed at five and making coffee. After trying to eat something you couldn’t stay still anymore you decided to do some chores. You were folding laundry and found a pajama set Spencer had left at your apartment, it was soft flannel and covered in little beakers. You noted the company on the tag and a hole in the knee showed how loved they were. You went to the store and got his favorite peppermint tea and snacks, making sure to make it feel somewhat homely for him, and finally returned home where you sat on your couch sewing up the knee waiting for him to come home to you.

It’s past 8 pm, you have the pajamas folded beside you and a movie playing on your tv when you hear movement on the other side of your door. The sound of a key and the doorknob moving pulls for your attention when Spencer walks into your apartment.

“Charming Boy, what are you doing?” you grab his bags since he was clearly in pain. “Where’s Derek?”

“He dropped me off?”

You immediately noticed that Spencer had downplayed his injuries. A black eye was forming on his sharp cheekbone and you looked to his hairline where there was medical tape assuming that was the gash he had mentioned on the phone and his wrists were red from the restraints Penelope mentioned. But he hadn’t let go of his side since he entered your apartment and it just elevated your terror when he yelped from you taking his bag. What in the world happened to him. “Spencer why didn’t you tell me?” you lowered the bags to the ground and took his free hand and cheek in your hand, trying to get him to look at you.

“I was taken and beaten up for days but I’m good. I’m with you.” he kissed you but it didn’t feel like the boy that left you a week ago.

You pulled back from the kiss and looked at him. His eyes were distant and avoided yours looking to his messenger bag on the floor. You kiss him on the nose and he plays along crinkling his nose but his eyes don’t move. He is still dazed and out of it when you pick up his bag and drag him to your room.

Spencer didn’t like therapy, after the L.D.S.K about a year ago you asked him if he wanted to talk to someone outside of the FBI. “ I know all the tricks, I can’t learn anything new from them.” and while you knew it was an unhealthy view you were not going to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

“Hey, Charming can you look at me?”

You had brought him to the side of the bed he would sleep on when he stayed the night and he was staring out the window with his messenger bag on his lap and was holding on to it like it was the only connection to the world. He looks up at you standing in front of him. But his gaze quickly moved to the window and moon and sky again. “I’ll be right back.”

You grab his pajama set from the couch, a couple of glasses of water and a first aid kit then return to him, he hadn’t moved. After setting the items on the bed and the water on your bedside table you sit by him. You brush away stray hairs off his forehead and place a kiss on his hair. He smells like chemicals and raw fish.

The Spencer scent of his shampoo and matching body wash that reminded you of Christmas and the spilled coffee lingering on his sweaters was overpowered. Gone. You could spend days wrapped up the cardigans he left behind but right now he was nowhere near that version, in a shirt that was clearly Derek’s as it fell off his collar bones.

“Hey Spence, do you want to take a shower?

“Do you want me to?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s just, you’ve been held by an unsub for three days,”

“Two days, 13 hours.”

“Okay, so about three days. Charming wouldn’t it make you feel better?”

“I can if you want me to.”

The short answers made you very uncomfortable. The words and avoidance of a shower were very non- Spencer, you wanted his rambling back. You wanted the boy that left you a week ago, but he wasn’t coming back, so you just wanted him to feel a little bit better. Safe.

“Spencer, can you tell me where your head is at right now?”

“My head is in the chair I was strapped to for 61 hours.”

“Can I ask you to elaborate on that Spencer?” you didn’t want to push him but no one had told you what happened to him during those days and you wanted to know everything after he showed up worse for wear to you. “Did they touch the spots that are off-limits Spence?”

Spencer Reid was the most beautiful, handsome, and attractive person you had ever met. After the one time you hung out with the team, it was a no-brainer for Penelope that she needed to set the two of you up. And now years of knowing him and getting to know him differently than his team the two of you were comfortable together. And you quickly learned things before the team. You had planned to go with Spencer to see his mom when he was given vacation time, but you weren’t given time off; you left your retail job a month later to pursue your dreams. And like his mom before the Fisher King case, the team didn’t know about his ‘off-limits spots’ and this spaced-out man sitting before you. You knew they definitely didn’t know about his off-limits spots because you learned about them when you were making out one night and untucked his shirt. His ribs, his stomach, and wrist were the hardest for him when unsubs taunted him. The restraints, the groping, the beatings. They were also the places he put all his frustration out when his anxieties were out of control. But it had been two years.

“Spencer, did you hear me?”

“Um well he, Tobias took his belt around my arm, a make-shift tourniquet, and drugged me. He hit me in the head.” he gestured to his forehead. “And when they found me, the team, one of his personalities had a knife to my wrists.”

“Oh, Charming. Can I see?” he nods and you take his hand and unbutton the cuff of his sleeve, and there it is. A clear bandage was tight to the skin covering a dozen of cuts next to light scars from Spencer’s own hand. You couldn’t help but think two years down the drain even though the marks weren’t from Spencer, they sure looked like it. “Okay, bathroom Charming boy.”

The two of you walked to the bathroom and while Spencer sat on the closed toilet lid you ran the bath. Going back to your room you grabbed the first aid kit and his pajamas.

“Do you need anything, want anything to eat or drink?”

“Do you have peppermint tea?”

“I got some for your visit, I can make you some while you relax. Anything else?”

“My shampoo and conditioner are in my go-bag. Not that I don’t like the scent of your stuff I just want mine.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, honey. Okay let me get those for you and then I can take your bandage off and we can clean it up.”

As you walk back into the bedroom Spencer yells “Actually it is better to cover wounds to help them heal properly.”

“I know Charming but I want to clean it and switch it to a new bandage. Better padding you know you were in a hospital and a plane with that one. Whoa,” Spencer was in the tub already and you were shocked to see him naked. A big bruise was wrapping around his rib cage. You had never seen your boyfriend in less than a button-up with the top three or four buttons undone. “Sorry, um I’ll go make something to eat and boil water.” you go to close the door.

“(y/n), wait.” his eyes were finally starting to come back in focus, “ Weren’t you going to help with this,” he places his arm on the lip of the tub.

“Sweetie, you’re, you are,” you are trying to look at his face and not the wounds or his collar bones or his chest or his below the water.

“Oh,” and just like that, his eyes unfocused.

“No Charming, it’s just, we’ve never been shirtless in front of each other.” you go to sit by the tub on the floor of your bathroom, grabbing his hand still limp on the lip of the tub. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yes, I’m okay, just can you not look at me like I’m different.” he looks at the arm and your hand holding it. “Just because my arm looks like this again.”

“Spencer, I didn’t look at you differently when you told me originally, I’m not going to look at you differently now. One sec,” you scoot on the tile and grab the first aid kit off the floor in the doorway where you dropped it. “Are you okay if I clean it and change the bandage?”

“Um, yeah, yeah you can, thank you.”

You grab his hand and put the kit in your lap. Grabbing an alcohol pad and running on the edge, and slowly but surely you get the bandage off his arm. You stand and get a washcloth off the shelf above the toilet and wet it with cool water.

By the time you finish bandaging his arm again the water Spencer was sitting in had gone cold and he is shivering.

“Can you make tea now and, um,” he looks down at his arm covered in new beige badges. Boring, but no one could see it anymore.

“Yes of course I can, um, I left a pair of pj’s on the bed you left them here.”

“Thank you.” he looked so small and scared in the tub.

You left thinking he was just bashful because he was in the tub and went and started a teapot. As you’re heating up a pot of water for mac and cheese you hear him padding into the kitchen.

“Do you feel a little better?”

“Definitely.” he sat at your kitchen table and you walked over to him. “Thank you for fixing my pajamas (y/n), I’m glad you had them. I thought I lost them, left them in a hotel on a case.”

“Yeah they were here, I can fix other clothes if you want.” you card your hands through his damp hair and twist his front fringe around your fingers.

“I would like that, thank you.” he closes his eyes as you comb through his hair and hold the back of his head. “Um, can we just have peanut butter and jelly, I just want to snuggle with you and I can’t wait for the water to boil.”

“That sounds perfect, do you still want tea?”

“Yes please.”

You kiss the top of his head, his hair finally smelling like Spencer. Your home. And as you let go you don’t feel that sinking feeling you usually do when walking away from Spencer. He joins you at the counter and pulls out two knives. You grab the bread slices and the two of you make sandwiches. When the kettle shouts you grab two cups and tea bags from the box and pour out water. Spencer grabs the plate with the sandwiches and follows you to your bedroom.

Once there you set the cups down and grab your phone and turn on some quiet music. When you turn around Spencer is already under the blankets and honest to god nibbling on his sandwich. You go to your closet to get your own pajama set, granted not as cute as your boyfriends, and join him.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asks.

“I am so happy that you are here. Can I kiss your silly face?”

“Please do.”

You launch at him. Your flannel-clad legs wrap around Spencer’s hips. His hands go to your hair as his tongue starts to brush your lower lip and you open your mouth to accept his tongue. Pulling away from his mouth, his beautiful, talented, and oh so addictive mouth, you look to him as long lashes flutter open his big brown eyes you’re hit by a train.

“Move in with me?”

———

Update (May 2, 2021)

Part two here it is nsfw

[akitokihojo]

Monster - Chapter 2

This chapter runs a little long so I'm sorry about that, but it's all essential I promise!

Also, I want to thank (again) those who messaged me like two months ago to give me insight on maternal instincts and emotions. You have no idea how much I appreciate each and every one of you who'd reached out to help. This is the final result of that, and I sincerely hope I brought justice to your advice! <3

chapter index

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“Sota.” God, she seemed so crushed, so unstable. To him, somehow, seeing her this way always made her appear so small and fragile, and it was on one hand that he could count the amount of times he’d actually seen her like this. Her head was hanging and she wasn’t making eye contact. Like, she felt shame on top of her anguish.

“Kagome, climb. I’ll be right behind you.” He promised as reassuringly as possible.

Finally, she moved. Kagome pulled her sleeve over her wounded palm and then grabbed the ladder, her shaking fingers gripping tighter than normal to prevent her from incidentally falling with her current, unsteady state. She went as fast as she could to get to the top, ignoring the adrenaline-dulled sting on her left hand until she reached the sturdy, wooden flooring of the treehouse, and crawled inside. Sota was quick to follow her up as soon as he was clear, always faster than she’d been up the damned thing.

He was cautious as he approached, watching her as she stared at the ground she sat on between her parted thighs. Kagome’s back was against the wall, but her shoulders were slumped forward, defeated.

“I’m fine now.” She softly mentioned. “You don’t have to worry.”

“You don’t have to lie.” Sota returned.

“I’m just a in a bit of shock is all.”

“It’s not your fault.” He said after a brief moment of silence. Kagome hung her head a little lower. “It’s not, Kagome. You can’t control everything, especially what you don’t know. You can’t hold yourself responsible for another conjurer getting killed.”

“Sota, stop. Please.” Kagome was beginning to cry, he could hear the wetness as she spoke, though she continued to hide her face and hold her breath.

“You put too much on your own shoulders, sometimes. It’s not right.”

“I didn’t choose this.” She whispered tremblingly.

“No, you didn’t. So, you’re allowed to not know what’s going on, and you’re allowed to not know how to fix things, and you’re allowed to make mistakes, and you’re allowed to not be the hero. That doesn’t make you a villain, though. And, it doesn’t put you at fault.”

Kagome broke then, sobbing as she folded forward, her arms clutching over her chest to hold herself securely. Slowly, Sota scooted himself closer, gently unfurling his older sister just enough to have her rest against him, her head on his shoulder while he held her and provided warmth. She cried so hard she coughed, shook, and nearly hyperventilated, but Sota did as their parents had done with them when they cried. He stayed still, didn’t budge, rubbed the length of her back with his fingers, and waited patiently for the stress to filter out of her system.

“You know,” Kagome spoke between trembling breaths that rocked her chest, a lingering affect from the hard cry. “I think we’ve got the roles reversed here.”

“What do you mean?” Sota asked.

“I’m the big sibling. I’m the one that’s supposed to be comforting you.” She lightly giggled, shaking her head and sitting upright as she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.

“You’re also the crybaby of the two of us.” Sota shrugged.

“Says the sissy.”

“You call it being a sissy, I call it not getting my butt kicked in the middle of town.” He teased. “Those are also referred to as, survival skills.”

Kagome chuckled, her throat cursing her for the slight aggravation even that had caused, but she ignored it. It wasn’t all that bad. Not in comparison to the headache she was now sporting. Feeling a little crusty on her face, she took her sleeve and wiped again, noticing a good helping of dirt come off on her shirt.

“Oh, god.” She groaned, continuing the motion to clean off her face of what she knew were the remnants of somewhat-dried mud. “How bad do I look right now?”

Sota frowned slightly, shaking his head. “I don’t feel like you want the answer to that.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Awful.”

“Nice.” She shrugged her brows, giving up on any further attempt at cleaning her face. She could feel the filth on her clothes, in her hair, on her forehead. It was taking extreme effort not to look at her stained sleeves and her soiled hands. At this point, she didn’t even feel the cut on her palm anymore, completely muted by everything else.

“I can’t -“ The serious expression was back on her face, brown eyes drifting to the far, low wall as she receded back into her guilt-riddled mind. “I can’t believe that I ever thought that just by being present, I would be able to prevent another’s death when all I did was stand there.”

“What are you talking about? You were never prepared for something like this.” Sota countered.

“No. I guess I wasn’t, was I? I always thought if someone was falsely accused, I would immediately stop it. But, there was actually another conjurer all along. I had no idea. And, I just - it happened so fast.”

She noticed her little brother flinch minutely, his own eyes falling to the floorboards they sat on. It must have been so hard for him to watch, too. It was terrible, and he had to witness it all from the sidelines, no doubt holding their mom back while watching his sister get yanked away by the hair and thrown against the wall, only making matters worse. Knowing him, he was probably holding his breath the whole time, hoping she wasn’t found out as a conjurer, herself. And yet, here he was comforting her because he knew she was scared. He must have been terrified.

Reaching over with her non-wounded hand, Kagome softly ruffled his dark hair, waiting until his attention wandered up to her.

“Sorry.” She whispered.

“It’s okay.” Sota shrugged. “I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I - I just had to try something. You understand, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You wouldn’t really be Kagome if you didn’t.”

“What?”

“Well, you’re kind of notorious for never minding your business and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’re also a little reckless, extremely impulsive, and have a bad habit of not thinking of the consequences of your actions until after you’ve already done the thing.”

Kagome’s mouth hung agape, taken aback by her apparent reputation. “Hey.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

The thing was, she couldn’t. She knew these details about herself, it was just a hard pill to swallow when it was all bundled into one. So, she huffed in defeat instead, nudging his head away.

“Just, next time, can you fight back? At least a little?” Sota asked, chuckling. “How are you supposed to help bring Naraku down if you can’t even manage to throw a punch?”

“Why are you harping on me so much? Aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”

“Just because you’re my sister doesn’t mean you get my support by default.”

“That’s exactly what I’m supposed to get.” Kagome argued.

“It’s kind of embarrassing actually. The name, ‘conjurer,’ alone, is intimidating, but on you it’s like -“

“Finish that sentence and I will flatten you.” She threatened.

“How?” Sota laughed. “That’s that problem, sis! You can’t fight! Your power move is your backtalk, and you can’t even speak without your voice cracking right now, so what the hell are you gonna do?”

Without missing a beat, Kagome shoved the heel of her palm into the center of Sota’s forehead. It wasn’t strong enough to push him back or hurt him by any means, but it was definitely the perfect amount of force to shock her brother and shut him up, the pre-teen now too busy laughing and rubbing the spot of his head she’d just offended.

“Punk ass.” She huffed.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I was just kidding!” Sota smiled, the expression slowly fading to one of interest. “So, mind if I ask you something?”

“Hm?” Kagome couldn’t help but be a little suspicious of the question on his tongue, given he was just teasing. She could tell, though, with the change in tone and the look in his brown eyes, that his curiosity had been curbed for long enough now.

“How’d you do it? The test, I mean. How’d you manage to hide that you were a conjurer?”

“I hide it every time.” She reminded him, kind of dismissively.

“Yeah, but no other time was like this? They narrowed the age group, and I don’t think they’ve ever strategized to this degree. It was like a foolproof plan; they seemed so confident. I mean, they even got…” He stopped there, unable to finish that sentence. “I just don’t really understand what happened.”

Kagome sighed, giving in what she felt was too easily but also justified, crossing her legs to sit a little more comfortably as she braced her elbows on her thighs. It’d been a secret for a while, and though she’d hoped it’d stay that way for a while more, she wasn’t about to attempt to lie to Sota when he would not only be able to see right through her, but also deserved the truth. “They were going for our receptors to stress. They typically do that every time, except not to this extreme. By cutting us, with our fight-or-flight response already revving, the pain and undeniable evidence of physical danger is kind of like a kick to our adrenaline levels. Throw in their darkness against our natural instinct for light, and you’ve got yourself a mess. To be honest, I don’t know the exact science behind it; this is just the only explanation that makes sense to me. So, when I saw them go about it with the first girl and figured out exactly what they were trying to do, I knew how to counter.”

“Wait, what? How?” Sota asked, almost more confused than before.

“I’ve - um - I’ve been practicing.”

“Practicing what, exactly? What’s there to practice?”

“A multitude of things.” Kagome stated. “Like, sensing demons, how much power is necessary to kill one, how to purify, how much is too much and how much is too little - because situations vary, how to channel my power into my arrows, and in this case, how not to react at all.”

Sota’s lips slowly parted in slight awe. “You can do all that?”

“Sort of.” She replied, giving a one-shouldered shrug. “I struggle with a few things still, but I’m not helpless.”

“Who were you training with? You know someone who can help?”

“No, not necessarily.” She shook her head. “It’s just been Miroku, Sango, and I.”

“What?” Sota’s brows furrowed considerably, appearing upset as he processed her admittance. “You guys were - since when!? You guys have been training and I was never a part of it!?”

Kagome sighed, head falling back for a split second in exasperation as she received the exact reaction she’d been expecting. “Sota, I’m sorry, okay? We couldn’t get you involved, though.”

“Why the hell not!? You know how badly I want to learn how to use a sword, and I never got to train with papa and uncle like you guys did!”

“Because, we’re doing this for a reason. It’s not just to keep up with what papa was teaching me, it’s to get way better than I was ever expected to become. Papa was teaching me basic skills, and yes, he really helped ground me when it came to channeling my spiritual power into my arrows as I shot them, but that was it. I wanted - no, needed - to get better, and develop my conjurer abilities for the sake of myself, you guys, and everything happening around us. Would you rather me be defenseless?”

“No, of course not, but -“

“Then, okay!” She cut him off. “Now I’m not. You weren’t included because we didn’t want you to know, Sota. We didn’t want anyone to know. Mama doesn’t know, Sango’s dad doesn’t know, no one knows.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Kagome! This isn’t fair!” He argued, cheeks hued with an angry pink.

“You want to talk to me about unfair!?” Kagome shouted, her own face growing hot with frustration. “You don’t know the half of it!”

“Hey, you’ve at least got some powers to work with! Throw in your bow and arrow, and you’re set! I don’t have crap! Papa died before I was old enough to learn a damn thing, and Sango’s dad’s too much of a stickler to train boys younger than fifteen!”

“First of all, watch your language! You’re still a kid!” He huffed at her stern tone, and she could literally see the annoyed rebuttal on his lips, so she continued before giving him the chance. “Second, I like how one minute you pity me for my powers, and now all of a sudden I’m lucky to have them because you somehow think you’ve gotten the short end of the stick!? Pick a side, you selfish brat! You should enjoy the fact that you don’t need to know how to use a weapon, Sota!”

“You had your first lesson when you were eight!”

“Is this about me, or is this about papa?”

“It’s about the fact that I feel useless!”

“You don’t need to know how to fight to be useful!”

“I might have been able to save you today if I did!”

Oh. Oh.

Kagome took a moment to compose herself, exhaling heat from her tightly-clenched throat as she re-evaluated her younger brother’s reasoning for being so mad. She’s known how badly he’s wanted to learn how to fight, and she’s known that he would resent her for multiple reasons when and if he found out the three of them had kept up the training their fathers had started them on. As much as she would have enjoyed including him, it was for his own safety that she hadn’t. They were doing something dangerous, and truthfully, it was only in preparation of something even more dangerous. Sota didn’t need to be involved in that mess. He deserved to be free of that stress and responsibility. She’d even said Miroku and Sango shouldn’t be involved, but that easily went ignored as if she’d never brought up the argument in the first place. Her cousin and she were incredibly close, he was as protective of her as an older brother would be, and Sango was, admittedly, the biggest help of all, being the most skilled in combat, demon knowledge, and with weapons. Without them, their patience, their observations and constructive criticism of how she could better her techniques, and even their willingness to learn alongside her and offer suggestions, she most likely wouldn’t have gotten this far. Not on her own.

She felt like a total ass for calling Sota a selfish brat. She’d assumed his point of view was more superficial, when all he really wanted to do was contribute. All he wanted to do was help her when she’d gone and gotten herself into trouble. She knew better than anyone how entrapping it was to feel so helpless in dire situations.

He wasn’t looking at her anymore. Sota was defiantly staring at the wall behind her, his arms crossed over his chest to silently communicate that he was peeved. Which wasn’t at all necessary. She got the point.

“Alright, I’m with you.” Kagome tried. “I understand where you’re coming from now.”

Sota looked further away.

“I was only trying to keep you safe by excluding you.”

Still no response. Knowing she was clear to make an aggravated expression, Kagome slowly and dramatically rolled her eyes, leaning away so her back and head rested against the wooden wall.

“I don’t think you’re a selfish brat.”

“I don’t really care whether you do or don’t.” He finally spoke, but his attention remained diverted. “You always try to dismiss me by calling me names, and it’s just your way of neglecting to see my side of things.”

Big words for a twelve year-old, Kagome had to admit. And, as much as she wanted to fight him on his statement, to deny his half-true accusation, she bit her tongue.

“You had your first lesson when you were eight.” Sota repeated, this time steadier. “I didn’t get that. I didn’t get that time with papa, the skill training, the confidence, the knowledge, none of it. By the time you were my age, you had something to work with. You weren’t really supposed to use your power, and the training papa gave you was more to manage it than anything, I get that. But, even if you take that away, you could still shoot straight. I don’t even know the right way to hold a sword. I don’t know the first thing about a blade. I don’t have the slightest idea how to pull an arrow through a bow and make sure my shot counts. You know what I know how to do? Stand back, stay quiet, and hold mom’s hand.” He finally looked at his sister, his brown eyes, a degree lighter than hers, deep with animosity. “You don’t know the first thing about what I felt today, and you want to call me selfish? You promised not to do anything stupid, and you ran out blindly, started talking about Kikyo like it was a casual topic, and got manhandled by a demon three times the size as you. As if it wasn’t traumatizing enough to watch a girl get murdered just a few feet away from me, I almost had to watch the same happen to my own sister within the same timeframe. You talk about feeling horrible for just standing there and watching a stranger get killed, well think about having to stand there while your family is the one being threatened. I understand that you didn’t ask for the circumstances that you have no choice but to deal with, but we’re riding the waves alongside you, sis, and just because I’m the youngest doesn’t mean I don’t deserve some consideration.”

“I’m not saying you don’t.” Kagome softly said. “My intentions for keeping you out of it weren’t to belittle or disregard you by any means, Sota. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it as many times as I need to: I only wanted to keep you safe. You’re my little brother. That’s my job. And, what I’m doing is dangerous. And, crazy. But, it’s something I have to do. You don’t. So, that’s why I never wanted you mixed up in it. Yes, you’re involved in the mayhem of these inspections, and I can understand how it’s frustrating to feel so powerless, but I’m going to be honest with you, no matter how much experience you have, that’ll never change. Even the demon slayers can’t stop them; you’ve heard what Sango’s dad has said. Miroku can fight, but you watched him take a beating, too. He got it worse than I did, all because he was trying to stop them from hurting me. What would have happened to you?” Kagome shook her head as the idea of her younger sibling getting kicked in the side and pummeled into the wet dirt filtered through her mind. She blinked her eyes shut as if to block the images from coming again. “No. Sota, I can’t have you getting hurt like that. I’m sorry that you feel it’s unfair that you don’t know how to protect yourself, but that’s just the way things have to be for now.”

Sota had calmed some, she could see it in his face. He was never really the kind to stay mad. Not for long, at least. Sota was the sort who got it out of his system in one swing, and was level-headed enough to see another’s point of view thereafter. He took after their mom. Kagome, on the other hand, constantly had her temper pointed out to her. She was definitely more passionate, more dramatic, more hot-headed, and held the thrown for sass in their family. She was her father’s daughter.

Kagome scooted an inch or two closer to her little brother, nudging his arm. “You aren’t useless. A weapon doesn’t define your worth.”

“Easy for you to say. You can fight. Apparently, better than I thought you could.”

“I mean, just look at what you did for me today. Look at what you did for mama. You’re so patient and kind, and you brought me all the way here as quick as you could so I could cry in private. And, I’m positive you did your best to keep mama as calm as possible. You think the act of holding someone’s hand through something difficult is simple, but it’s not. It’s grounding and supportive. Sota, that’s a lot to offer. Not everyone has the heart that you do.”

“You’re corny.” He murmured, leaning against her shoulder.

“Alright, I’m done being nice to you.” Kagome dully remarked, her attitude quickly shifting, though she was unable to fight her own, small grin. Neither of them moved away, and she allowed him to rest against her, thankful that he didn’t mind the mud she was covered in. It was a little late to think about it, anyway; he’d held her earlier, which got some on his own clothing.

The silence between them was comfortable. The thunder was oddly soothing. Her mind was relaxing finally, her nerves returning to their normal state. What once was cushioned with epinephrine and numbness was now beginning to ache and burn. Still, she made no move to head home just yet. Kagome was in no rush to go back to reality.

“You said this was something you have to do. Training.” Sota mentioned, his voice somewhat hushed. “Why?”

Kagome didn’t answer; not immediately.

“Why, Kagome?”

“You know why. I can’t be expected to help fight against Naraku if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Wait, but you’re -“

Kagome nodded.

“So, you’re really gonna fight?” Sota breathed.

“Yeah.”

“When?”

She didn’t answer, which was basically all the answer he needed.

“Kagome, are you about to do something insane?”

“I - I am.” She confirmed.

Sota sat upright, brown eyes meeting brown eyes. He took a moment, waiting to see if she would explain herself, but as her plush lips remained closed, and her stare held steadfast, he read what was on her mind. He’d been in the room during her countless retellings of this phantom Kikyo telling her the responsibility was theirs. He knew there was a possibility that Kagome would take that to heart. He knew that she wanted to help defeat Naraku. That all entailed the same result. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Kagome took in a slow, deep inhale, nodding as she exhaled. “Yes.”

“Is there any way I can talk you out of it?”

“No.”

He sighed, hanging his head for a moment in a defeat that came much easier than she would have ever predicted. “So, when do you guys go?”

“It’s actually just me.” Kagome admitted, sitting up to match his body language. The ache in her hand was growing, so she unconsciously switched back and forth between twiddling her fingers and clenching her fist to distract herself from the cut that no longer bled. “I know I said the three of us were training for a reason, but Miroku’s hurt. And, Sango’s not going to want to leave Kohaku on his own. She’ll want to wait until her dad gets back. So, I’m leaving tonight. On my own.”

Just as she finished her sentence, a huge rumble of thunder roared overhead, shaking the little treehouse they resided in. Sota’s attention shot out the door by instinct, drifting back to her as the noise died down. “Of course, you are. At least wait out the storm, will you?”

“Alright, yeah.” Kagome scrunched her nose slightly. “I’ll wait it out as long as I can.”

“You’ll come back?”

“I’ll come back.”

“You promise?” Sota held out his pinky to her.

She couldn’t help the warmth that flooded over her, a small smile curving at her lips as she stared at his finger. Finally, she took it with her own. “I promise. In return, you have to promise not to tell anyone. You’re the only person who knows I’m going. Keep it that way.”

“Gonna be hard to keep it a secret if you’re literally missing, sis.” He mentioned.

“I meant, until morning.” Kagome rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell them until I’m gone.”

“Deal.” Sota begrudgingly obliged, pulling his pinky free. “Come on. We should get back before it starts raining again. Mom’s probably doing that thing where she’s going crazy with worry so she’s smothering Miroku. By the way, he’s gonna kick your ass when he finds out.”

“Language.” Kagome tiredly reminded him, following him over to the edge.

“What are you gonna do? Fight me?” He jokingly mocked, beginning his climb down the rope ladder. Once he was far enough away, knowing she couldn’t do anything to him even if she wanted to, he continued his mindless taunting. “I don’t care what you say, or how much training you swear you’ve done, I still watched you get your shit rocked today.”

“I’m gonna spit on you, you freaking dweeb.” Kagome threatened, inching over the siding of the floorboards as she watched him sway slightly on the rope to hurry down. He knew she was serious, and she liked seeing the panic on his face.

When his feet met the ground, Kagome positioned herself for her own climb down, having to be more careful than before with her hand. She figured, in fact, that climbing up the way she had didn’t help her situation any. She may not have felt it in the moment, but it was easy to tell now that the gash was swollen and highly irritated. Kagome had to move slow, hooking her left forearm through the rope instead of grasping it with her fist.

“Don’t fall, okay? Be careful. I’m right here to catch you.” Sota assured from below. Kagome appreciated the protective offer, but she knew damn well that Sota would be more of a cushion to break the fall since he lacked the muscle - and size - necessary to prevent it.

“You know, your mood swings give me whiplash.” She said through stressed breath. “One minute you’re nice, the next you’re teasing me, the next you’re nice, and the next you’re yelling at me.”

“Yeah, and you’re mood swings give me a migraine. So, I guess we’re even.” Sota countered. It was actually a fair response that Kagome couldn’t even argue against, instead bobbing her head back and forth in agreement.

Her boots reached for the ground, and she felt Sota’s hands instinctually grasp her low back as she gained her footing. As a silent thank you, she ruffled her brother’s hair, notching her head in the direction of their home.

“Will you teach me how to use a sword when you get back?” Sota asked, walking beside his sister. “At least the basics? Please?”

“I don’t know what ‘bow and arrow’ mean to you, Sota, but I’m crap with a sword.” She replied.

“But, you have a knife.”

“Hate to break it to you, but this is definitely a scenario where size does, in fact, matter.”

“What - wow.” He laughed.

“I can teach you how to shoot. Or, maybe I’ll be able to convince Sango to teach you how to use a sword. She’s awesome with one.”

“Miroku may be better off convincing her since his tongue is always down her throat.”

Kagome was the one to laugh that time, cringing slightly. “You’re probably right. Either way, this is only when I get back and if things have calmed down.”

“It’s you. You’re the most stubborn person I know. I know for a fact things will be better when you get back.” He said, approaching the front door of their home and stomping the mud off his boots.

“You do?” Kagome smiled, feeling encouraged.

“Well, yeah. You literally won’t have it any other way. I’m assuming if anyone tries to stop you, you’ll just claw their face off with your unyielding temper.” Sota replied, looking at her with a grin as he made a clawing gesture with his furled fingers.

Kagome deadpanned, entirely unsurprised by the last jab he served her. She raised her fist, quickly jerking it back in an empty threat to hit him, and he threw the door open to run inside.

“Oh, thank goodness. You’re back.” Their mother breathed as soon as they’d appeared, rushing over to them from Miroku’s side on the couch.

“Sorry.” Sota spoke for the both of them, his serious demeanor returning. “We just needed a moment. I know it was a bad time to run off, but -“

“Sota, honey, don’t worry. I understand.” Their mom assured. “Are you two okay.”

“Yeah.” He answered, and their mother’s attention diverted to Kagome.

“Yeah.” Kagome echoed, giving a curt nod.

“Come here.” She walked over, her cold, gentle hands cradling Kagome’s jaw as she turned her face about to check for damage. Kagome knew it was fruitless, though. She was filthy. Still, she looked at her as if her vision could see through thick, dried dirt. Her hands glided down Kagome’s left arm and to her hand, inspecting the cut on her palm. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love.”

“But, Miroku.” Kagome mentioned, peeking over her mom’s shoulder at him. He laid on the couch, his arm planted over his eyes with a light blanket covering most of his body. He was shirtless, looked clean, and seemed almost comfortable, though she could see that a mass of deep red and purple had made home on his ribs.

“I’m on drugs. Leave me alone.” He grunted, not even peeking over at them.

“I gave him some herbs so he would be more comfortable.” Her mother smiled.

“The strong stuff?” Sota asked, taking a seat at their circular, dining table.

“The good shit.” Miroku said.

“Where’s Sango?” Kagome asked.

“Well, she wanted to take Kohaku home and get cleaned up, herself. I invited them to stay, especially for dinner, but you know Sango. She’s as independent as ever.”

“She’s fucking hot.” Miroku murmured.

Kagome cringed and groaned, eyeing her cousin. His perverted grin was unmistakable, even from behind his forearm. “You’re on drugs. Shut up.”

“Come on, dear. I just drew up a fresh bath; you’re timing couldn’t have been more perfect.” Her mom pulled her, guiding her to the bathroom where she shut the door behind them.

Carefully, her mother helped Kagome undress, peeling the muddy clothes off of her, overly cautious not to hurt her since she wasn’t sure what state her body was in. Kagome, knowing this provided a sense of comfort for her mom - caring for her in her vulnerable state - allowed her to do as she pleased, taking things just as slowly. Truthfully, her aching muscles, now more noticeable than ever, were as grateful for it as she was.

The water was hot as she sunk into the tub, plugging her nose and dunking her head entirely. She took the rag that was offered, gently cleaning off her face and body as her mom took to washing her hair.

“Mama, I’m sorry.” Kagome softly spoke through the silence.

“Shh.”

“I didn’t -“

“Shh.” Her mother hushed her again, gently massaging her scalp with her fingers. “All that matters to me is that you’re okay. Nothing else, Kagome.”

Kagome sighed, leaning back into her mom’s touch. “I am.”

She bundled up in a towel after drying off, her long, raven hair, though still dripping, beginning to wave as it fell over the front of her shoulders. Her mother once again gently tilted her head back and forth to inspect the damage, running her thumb over her cheek. When she extended Kagome’s neck, Kagome couldn’t help but wince slightly, the swallow she’d unintentionally done at that exact moment sliding down her swollen throat uncomfortably.

“We’re lucky he didn’t crush your trachea.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Kagome whispered with a wry grimace as her mom released her to look at her hand. Kagome tried to swallow her hiss, but couldn’t stop it from sliding off her tongue, her mouth hanging open as her mother stretched out her palm to observe it closely.

“Sorry.” She breathed sympathetically. “It looks irritated. Definitely inflamed. I’ve got the salve out on the table. Let’s get you dressed so I can clean and bandage it up.”

“Are you gonna have to amputate it, doc?”

“Unfortunately, that is a possibility.”

“What?” Kagome’s expression shifted to fearful shock, studying the red cut on her hand as her mother giggled.

“I’m kidding.”

“You said it with a straight face and everything.” She whined.

Her mother merely kept her smile, her fingers finding the ends of her daughter’s hair and running them through. During the silence, she couldn’t stop herself from traveling higher, twisting the waving locks, fixing her messy bangs, and then combing her now-trembling fingers all the way through the length of her hair again. She’d realized she was fidgeting in a sense, losing her composure, but the fight was no match. Her chin quivered and her bottom lip jutted out slightly as she pulled Kagome into a tight hug and pinched her eyes shut, trying everything she could to keep the terrifying image of her daughter in that little girl’s place at bay.

“Mama? What’s wrong?” Kagome gently asked, holding her in return.

“Nothing.” She lied, though she convincingly held her tone steadier than she felt.

Kagome could feel her fear, her anguish, and the relief that they were together right now. She could understand, much like Sota’s disturbance, how difficult it must have been for her mother to witness everything that had happened today. None of it was easy for anyone, so Kagome tightened her grip, sullenly resting her chin on her mom’s shoulder.

“Sometimes, I wish you weren’t so brave.” She finally caved, openly crying, shaking into her firming hold.

It only took that one sentence to bring Kagome to crumble, herself. Her expression twisted sadly and hot tears washed to her eyes, spilling over as she hid her face in her mom’s shoulder.

“It doesn’t always feel like I need to protect you from the world, Kagome. It sometimes feels like I need to protect you from yourself. How can I do that? You’re always ready to sacrifice yourself for others, always ready to fight battles that aren’t yours when your own is hard enough. I don’t know how to save you from this. Any of this.” Her mom sobbed. “I had no choice but to stand there and watch you get hurt, and I just… I can’t do that again, Kagome. I can’t - I won’t…”

“I’m sorry.” Kagome cried, voice faltering worse than ever.

“If I could take your place, I would in a heartbeat.”

Kagome fervently shook her head against her mother’s shoulder.

“I would.” She nodded, leaning back and taking her daughter’s face in her hands. “I would be able to protect you then. You’re my little girl. You’re good, and you’re pure, and you’re feisty, and you’re strong, and you’re brave, and you’re beautiful, and you’re resilient, and you’re kind, and the world has no business hating you.” She wiped her thumbs back and forth over Kagome’s cheeks, clearing the fresh tears that streamed down her face while her bottom lip quivered.

Kagome’s mother took a deep, unsteady breath, pulling her closer to place a sweet kiss on her forehead before looking into her glossy eyes again. “I know I can’t, though.” She whispered. “And, I will never ask you to be less than what you are. So long as you stay alive. Please.”

Kagome nodded, sniffling, hardly able to see her mother’s face through her tears. She could feel the heat building, and no amount of swallowing helped, a dense lump growing in her swollen throat and air clogging in her lungs as if she’d lost the ability to properly breathe. Her fingers quaked and her muscles felt weak, her legs slowly folding to bring Kagome’s pitiful figure to the ground. Her mom followed, shushing her, pulling her close and petting her hair to provide as much comfort as possible, but nothing helped pull Kagome out of it. She was lost to the darkness in her mind, the burning in her veins, the image of the young girl still on the ground, cold, bleeding engrained behind her eyelids for her to vividly see.

“I just - I just wanted to save her, mama.” She brokenly sobbed.

“I know, baby. I know, you did.”

“She deserved to live.”

Her mother rocked her back and forth as soothingly as possible, lulling her with a gentle shush as her daughter got the pain out of her system. It tore her apart to know her daughter’s innocence could never be spared. She felt nauseous just knowing there was nothing she could do to fix it, or make it better, or heal her broken heart.

“I tried. I - I tried. I tried.” Kagome kept repeating, her brain on loop and unable to filter anymore words free. Like a broken record skipping, scratching, on its last leg before the music is shut off.

Kagome’s mother wasn’t aware of how much time had passed. Quite frankly, it was irrelevant. Her daughter was quiet now, resting her head on her thighs, her towel-draped body curled on the bathroom floor, eyes blinking drowsily as she zoned out. Every now and then, she’d see a tear escape from Kagome’s eye and glide over the bridge of her nose. Her own tears had stopped, her cheeks dry, lips tingling from the hum of the melody she continued to comfort her daughter with. She knew and accepted, as difficult as it may be, that there was no physically protecting Kagome from a thing. Not Naraku, not demons, not the world, not fate, and not herself. Kagome was a fighter, and Kagome was the light that made your day better. Kagome was an angel and a beast all in one. And, if all she could offer was her lap, her solace, her arms, and her song to bring her daughter some form of peace, then nothing in the universe could stop her from providing it.

“I am so proud of you, little bird.” She whispered, raking her fingers through Kagome’s almost-dry hair, thick and wavy and neatly pulled away from her face. “You always try to do the right thing, no matter what. Your bravery may scare me, but that’s only because I’m your mother. Your bravery also amazes me. You’ve grown from this little girl afraid of spiders to a woman still afraid of spiders that will challenge demons without so much as a second thought.”

Kagome gave a weak giggle, snuggling just a little closer to her mom. It wasn’t often that her mother used her father’s nickname for her, but when she did, it was one of the most comforting things that seemingly quieted the world around. The thunder didn’t even stand a chance. With the heavy droplets of rain spilling from the edging of their roof to splash in the puddles on the ground, the pitter-patter hitting above them to create a continuous white noise, Kagome was finally stabilizing and grounding down to actuality.

“Spiders are gross.” Kagome muttered.

“I agree.” Her mom giggled. “Eight legs is just excessive.”

Kagome groaned, muffling her laugh. “And, don’t even get me started on centipedes.”

“The worst of all multi-legged insects.”

Slowly, Kagome lifted herself off of her mom, smiling slightly as her mother continued to comb her dark locks from her face.

“Your bangs are getting a little long.” She mentioned. “Want me to spruce them up tonight?”

“Please?” Kagome asked, nodding.

She grinned, caressing her daughter’s soft cheek. “Let’s get your hand wrapped and some food in your belly first.”

Kagome finally picked herself off the floor, following her mother out of the bathroom and parting in the small hall where she insisted she was well enough to dress herself. As soon as she shut the door to her room, Kagome released a deep and dreadful sigh, resisting the loud groan that could have easily accompanied it as she braced her weight on the wood of her door. Her decision was easy to make in the moment, while she was pinned to a wall, angry, and horrified, but after watching her mother breakdown, she struggled with it now. Leaving everyone behind for an undetermined amount of time would be extremely difficult. Leaving her mama behind to hurt and worry was the worst feeling in the world.

Because, truth be told, despite the promise she’d made her younger brother, there was no telling if she’d actually succeed.

There was no telling what she’d encounter beyond her village’s limits.

There was no telling anything.

Kagome wasn’t naive. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew she had no idea what she was getting herself into, that there was no direct path to her objective, that there was no given timeframe to count on. Hell, she didn’t even know what Naraku looked like.

Overall, she knew that she knew nothing. Other than she had to try.

As heavy as the guilt weighed to upset her mother, her family, in this way, Kagome wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for not trying. It was like rolling over, belly up, surrendering to more deaths, more chaos, more abuse and oppression. It made her stomach churn and her heart race. It made her blood boil from the fire building up in her abdomen.

She wouldn’t say she didn’t care about what happened to herself, because that wasn’t true. There were plenty of reasons to tend to her well-being, and no matter how reckless she naturally was, she vowed then and there to be as careful as she could. Leaving didn’t mean she was going to parade her powers about, nor openly proclaim that she was a conjurer. She was bold, not stupid. She would be cautious, watch her step, mind her P’s and Q’s, but take no shit when it came down to it.

Fine line, thin line, grey area and all, this was the best Kagome could offer right now.

How was it possible to be so dead set and confident on a decision while second-guessing yourself? Kagome could feel these negative thoughts slithering through her mind, reminding her that she wasn’t as physically strong as Sango, and she wasn’t as clever as Miroku. Running aimlessly through a region of unknown was idiotic, and she would be lucky if she wasn’t killed within two days. The loudest voice of all told her that she would never be able to take down Naraku on her own. And, she was a fool to think otherwise.

Kagome took a deep, steady breath, sighing out even slower as she tried to ease those thoughts away. She busied herself, lighting the candle on her nightstand for some extra light and dressing in some comfortable pajamas.

“Is this what you want?” She quietly asked herself, staring at an empty bag she’d splayed on her bed. When she pictured herself putting the bag away, saying no, and walking out of the room, she felt wrong. It felt wrong. When she pictured herself packing it with some clothes and necessities that could only be saved for last minute, she felt terrified. But, it felt right. “Yes.”

So, she discreetly went about her room, collecting a few items of clothing to alternate through, especially undergarments, little things she may want along the way, like something to tie her hair back with, a brush, and the fresh box of matches in her drawer. Her bag had plenty of room leftover, which was planned, and she tucked it under her bed - next to which she placed a pair of dark pants, a green blouse, and her most comfortable, short bodice. As far as materials were concerned, Kagome was ready to go.

She stopped as her fingers gripped the handle of the door. Her decision, though right, was nerve wracking. She felt sick, scared, discouraged, and she wasn’t even on her way yet. The thoughts, the plaguing negativity, like a flashing, red light going off and distracting her from her objective, were what was deterring her strength. She needed to silence them, needed to sway them for good.

You aren’t as strong as Sango.

No. She wasn’t. That was a straight fact and there was no competition. Sango was a badass, came from a line of badasses, and lived by the motto, “kicking ass and taking names.” She was fast, though. Kagome was nimble and reacted almost as well as Sango would. She deserved credit in that area.

You aren’t as clever as Miroku.

That was only somewhat true. Miroku was sixty percent brains and forty percent brawn. Sure, he was smart. Kagome, on the other hand, was resourceful. Miroku was cunning, and Kagome was witty. Miroku could talk others into doing something, while Kagome could talk herself and others out of trouble. Together, they were a pretty good team, but they could still survive apart.

You’re going to get yourself killed. You don’t even know where you’re going.

If she was meant to do this, then she’d pull through. But, she’d rather die trying than accept life as it is. Kagome could figure this out. By no means did she believe any part of this would be easy, but she refused to believe it wasn’t possible.

You will never be able to take down Naraku on your own.

Kagome let that one sit for a moment. It wasn’t to let it eat at her, it was more to feel it out. Would she? Honestly, when she pictured it happening, the scene was a blur. Naraku was there, he just didn’t have a face or a body. Kagome could feel it though, the sensation overwhelming in her gut. She would, no doubt, meet Naraku at some point or another. The only thing was, peculiar as it may be, she wasn’t alone. Her intuition was showing her not just one, but a number of people at her side. All of them ready to end things with this horrible, wretched demon. It may be the conjurers, but something told Kagome to wait and see. So, she gripped the knob of her door a little tighter, a little more confident. The thought gradually became impertinent. She wasn’t worried about facing Naraku alone, because she wouldn’t be alone. From what she’d like to guess, to hope, far from it.

“Don’t touch it, Sota.” Kagome heard her mom say as she wandered out toward the living room.

“But, he said he couldn’t feel it.” Sota responded.

“For real, Auntie! I can’t feel a thing.” Miroku declared. “It’s like magic.”

“No, it’s like medicine. Eat your soup.”

“How much did you give him?” Kagome asked skeptically as she joined her family, side-eyeing her cousin as he smiled goofily from his spot on the couch. She was surprised to see him sitting up, and even more surprised from his apparent bleary state that he hadn’t dropped his bowl yet.

“Well, I might have given him a dash more than what’s recommended.” Her mother sheepishly replied, hiding her face as she scooped stew into a bowl with her ladle.

“A dash?”

“A pinch.”

“How much is a serving?”

“A - um - tablespoon?”

“Mama, why was that a question?”

“Mom, how much did you give him!?” Sota guffawed, leaning forward over one of the chairs at the table.

“Look, he doesn’t feel any pain, so as far as I’m concerned, I gave him enough.” She defended, cheeks a deep shade of pink.

Both Sota and Kagome failed at biting back their humor, doubling over from laughing so hard. She glanced at her cousin, her complacent, happy, clueless-looking cousin and sauntered his way.

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?” She sweetly asked, giggling.

“Pretty good.” He nodded, grinning wider. “Definitely can’t complain. This stew is delightful.”

Kagome bit her lip, bating her breath as she turned on her heel to look at her mom. “Mama, he said ‘delightful.’”

“Yes, I heard him.”

“To die for.” Miroku dramatically added.

Kagome resisted her knee-jerk reaction to take the loosely-gripped bowl from his one-handed grip, seeing he was clutching it just tight enough to keep it from spilling. She bit down on her bottom lip harder, trying as hard as she could not to laugh as Miroku took a long and loud slurp of food off of his spoon. Behind her, she heard her little brother snort into his arm, trying to stifle himself, too.

“How you feeling? A little high?” Kagome queried.

“High? No, I’m sitting.”

She lost it then, laughing so hard she wheezed, clutching her sides and folding over again.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” Kagome’s mother sighed as she set two bowls of soup on the table. “Yes, your cousin is heavily medicated but at least he’s comfortable. Now, come eat, please.”

“Hey, mom, can I have a pinch over a serving of whatever was on his menu?” Sota asked, taking his seat and gesturing to Miroku by pointing his thumb over his shoulder behind him.

“You may not.” She said, unamused.

“It’s for science.”

“Yeah? Tell me one scientific thing you know.” She tested, her level expression holding strong.

Sota froze, mouth hanging agape as he pondered, his brown eyes drifting away from his mother as he grew nervous. “Uh, rain - rain comes from clouds.”

“Mhm, good job. Eat your food.” She dismissed. She pulled out the chair next to Kagome as she sat at the table, bringing the disinfectant, salve, cotton balls, and bandage wrappings closer. Once Kagome got situated, swallowing what remained of her laughter and pulling her bowl of stew closer, she ushered for her left hand.

“It can wait, mama.” Kagome said. “You should eat, too.”

“I would feel much better knowing this was taken care of first.”

“Then, I’ll do it myself. You don’t have to worry.” She stated sincerely, but with the slightly sad slant of her mother’s eyes, she regretted the innocent suggestion immediately.

Who was Kagome to deny her mother a simple, tender, and loving act that would most likely, in turn, provide her with a sense of comfort? As much as Kagome didn’t want to think of the circumstances of their evening, or the happenings of their day, it played a significant role in the lack of glimmer in her mom’s eyes. She couldn’t prevent the harm that Kagome endured today, but she wanted to clean up the mess.

Steadily, Kagome turned her wrist palm-up and slid it over the wood of the table toward her mother. She let her do as she pleased, once more studying the inflamed wound while Kagome minded her own and blew on the spoonful of stew in front of her mouth. She was lucky that she hadn’t choked as she gasped at the same time she’d taken a bite, hearing the sizzle from the disinfectant while her mom continued to use a generous amount on her cut.

“I hope they don’t make this sort of inspection a habit.” Her mother grumbled.

Kagome kept her mouth shut, feeling like her mom was passed the sad and disturbed stages of the incident, and had transitioned to the angry phase. Her mom wasn’t the type to outright express her frustration. It was more visible in her body language and the deeper set tone she’d carry. She often busied herself with something, like cleaning or cooking, in an attempt to either distract herself or keep from coming off harsh in any manner. It was a classic way to dissipate her anxiety so she could come out of it calm and collected. Kagome figured tending to her hand was a two-birds-one-stone sort of deal.

She swallowed the stew on her tongue, allowing the heat from the meal to glide down her throat. It was slightly painful, but simultaneously soothing. She knew it wouldn’t be a comfort like hot liquid to a sore throat would be when you’re down with a cold, but it was still mildly satisfying to feel it go down. She avoided the large chunks of meat for the time being. She knew her mom would be happier if she ate everything in her bowl, but swallowing anything more than liquid right now just wasn’t appetizing.

Kagome peeked over at her little brother, not at all surprised to find him looking back. He held a wary look in his eyes, a brow slightly cocked, and she knew it was due to the way their mother had leaned her face just inches away from Kagome’s wound, little huffs of agitation coming from her nostrils as she paid close attention to clean every little centimeter of the surface. It wasn’t big by any means. Sure, it was larger than Sango’s, but her hand, itself, was relatively small as it was, and the gash went from the center toward the side. Maybe two inches at most, and angled crookedly. There was no way into their mother’s head, but Kagome was willing to bet she was being diligent for her own peace of mind as well as the fact that Kagome had not only gotten a good helping of mud in the cut, but also another’s blood. It was important to be thorough, and Kagome wasn’t about to complain. Not with the life of her palm in her mother’s hands.

Sota made a very subtle gesture at Kagome, one that wouldn’t catch their mom’s peripheral vision. He pointed in her direction then made the “OK” sign with his fingers, asking if she was alright. Kagome responded with a tiny nod, fighting back a wince when her mom tightly wrapped up her hand from the base of her fingers to her wrist after slathering it in ointment.

“Not too tight?” Her mom inquired, giving Kagome her hand back.

“Nope. It’s perfect. Thanks, mama.”

“Does it hurt?”

“A little, but it’s bearable.”

“Okay, love.” She stood, kissing the top of Kagome’s head. “Eat as much as you can. At least some of the vegetables, please. I’ll make some tea. I want you all in bed soon.”

No one had an argument for her. Not even Sota. It was typical of him to want to stay up, but tonight, no matter what the time actually was, it felt exceptionally later. Again, Kagome found herself looking over at him, unsurprised to find him returning the stare. The end of their night also meant their goodbye. And, she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. How could she convince him that everything would be alright? How could she make him drop the obvious concern so the rest of their family wouldn’t notice and ask what was wrong? The only thing she could think to do to rest his anxiety was to smile. So, she did. Kagome gave her brother a small, reassuring grin, but all it worked to do was make his eyes fall away. Much like their mother, he busied himself to hide his emotions, bringing his bowl up to his face to drink the remainder of his broth.

The tea was like heaven, the hints of chamomile and honey the most comforting to her throat. The house had grown quiet, the tension from outside beginning to trickle in. Miroku rested his back against the arm of the couch, still seemingly pain-free. He’d only taken a couple of sips of his tea before closing his eyes and releasing an unsteady sigh, and Kagome wondered if there was a bit of discomfort he wasn’t showing, if the medicine was making him drowsy, if he couldn’t stomach anything more, or all of the above. Sota, Kagome, and their mother all continued to sit at the small table, embracing the silence. Much like she’d expected the moment the demons left their village, there wasn’t always going to be something that could be said. There wasn’t always going to be something that could make them forget, because there was no possible way to do that. What had happened - the terror, agony, heartbreak, and failure - it all was going to demand to be recognized.

The thunder had calmed momentarily, the rain still falling, though not quite as hard. And, as if the universe was working to solidly confirm that Kagome’s initial assumption was correct, a dreadful, broken, gut wrenching cry was heard from several homes over.

Kagome’s attention shot toward their door, her heart dropping into her pelvis. It was the mother of the conjurer grieving, releasing her sorrow, and Kagome could only imagine the horrible feeling of having to inhabit a house where her daughter could no longer dance around, and play, and laugh, and bring the joy a nine year-old girl naturally does.

She missed the thunder immediately. She missed her cousin’s natural instincts to lighten the mood with terribly-timed and inappropriate jokes. She missed yesterday when this misery had yet to exist.

“Oh, your bangs.” Kagome’s mom said, louder than her typically soft tone, as if to both busy herself and distract them all from listening to the crying. She decidedly spoke every word that came to mind, announcing her thoughts and letting them fumble off her tongue to keep her children’s attention as she stood from her seat and wandered about the room. “Now, where did I put those scissors? You know, when Miroku still trusted me to cut his hair, I thought it’d be a good idea to use a bowl to shape it. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking. I pictured it coming out as this neatly-tousled look since his hair naturally holds some waves, but that was certainly not the case. Miroku, you remember this, right?” She paused for his answer, turning around from the little drawer she rummaged through to find her nephew giving her this distasteful grimace.

“Do you realize we almost went fifteen years without mentioning that?” He muttered.

“Oh, hush. It wasn’t that bad.” She dismissed with a meager wave of her hand, going back to shifting about as she sought out the scissors.

“You gave him a bowl cut!?” Sota chuckled. “No wonder he doesn’t trust you to cut his hair anymore.”

“No, no, that wasn’t the kicker. Tell them, Auntie. Tell them what you did to me.” Miroku grumbled. He was groggy, his body feeling stiff and heavy as he melted further into the couch, the medicine leaving his head and flowing through the muscles of his arms, torso, hips, and legs. But, he knew what his aunt was trying to do, and this was all he could offer to contribute to the conversation and keep words flowing to help drown out the crying that haunted their town.

“I - uh - oh! Here they are!” She said brightly, presenting the scissors. “I accidentally missed.”

“Missed?” Kagome asked.

“I missed.” Her mom nodded.

“She missed.” Miroku confirmed.

“What did you miss?” Sota asked skeptically.

“The hair - his hair. I missed - I missed his hair. Um, you know how I take the strands in between my fingers and trim the ends beneath? Well, instead of that, I went above. Above my fingers. By a lot.”

“Wh- how!?” Kagome pressed.

“I was a little distracted. And, apparently, your cousin knows how to hold a grudge.”

“Well, Auntie, how about I give your hair a trim and we call it even? No pun intended.”

“Hah! How about not.”

“What were you so distracted by?” Sota asked.

“Your father. He was - uh - talking to me.”

“He was shirtless, you heathen!” Miroku shouted, his voice cracking from the emphatics.

Kagome stifled her snort, her attention landing on her mother’s reddened face, who could only give an awkward grin. She started laughing at both the embarrassment on her mom's cheeks and the fact that something like that had ruined Miroku’s hair and trust.

“Oh my god, is that why you wore that hat for, like, two months straight!?” Kagome asked, her mouth hanging agape.

“She had to even it out the best she could while both of our dad’s laughed, and let me tell you, the style did not suit me.” Miroku replied.

“I thought it was cute.” His aunt shrugged.

“Well, you would. It was your handiwork.”

“It was more that your cheeks were so round, and your head was so big, so super short hair really helped make it pop.”

“Hey! I did not have a big head!”

“Yeah, you did.” Both Kagome and her mother chimed synchronously.

“Awe, man. No fair. I don’t remember any of that stuff.” Sota groaned.

“Sorry, Sota. I think that happened when Miroku was, what? Seven?” His mom said, unsure.

“Eight.” Miroku corrected.

“Right. So, Kagome would have been five or six, and you would have just been born.”

“Actually, I think you were still pregnant with the munchkin. Explains why you were so thirsty for -“

“Ah! Okay, no! I was not thirsty, first of all! Second, how are you still so inappropriate right now? Go to sleep! Kagome, let me see your bangs.” Her mother directed, clearly flustered and ending the subject there.

Kagome couldn’t help but back her seat away as her mama approached to sit beside her, the wooden chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. “I’m gonna have to ask you to calm down first, thank you very much. Considering how easily distracted you’ve been proven to be, I’m not sure this is such a good idea with your current state.”

“Fine. Sota, would you do the honors?” Her mother sarcastically asked, sliding the scissors across the table.

“Gladly.” He grinned.

“Wait! No! Why would he do it!? Why would your first suggestion be to hand the scissors to him!?”

“Would you like me to trim your bangs?” Her mother cocked a brow, a slightly proud smile curving her lips.

“Yes, please.” Kagome grumbled in defeat, scooting her chair back to where it was and presenting the hair at the front of her brow.

“That’s what I thought.” Her mom giggled, taking the scissors back from her son and kissing Kagome’s forehead. “Sota, go hop in the bath, please. I want you clean and warm before bed.”

He nodded, rising from his seat, and as he went to walk by, she stopped him, pulled him down by his arms, and planted a sweet kiss to his head, as well.

Steadily, she spruced up Kagome’s bangs, even going so far as to shorten up the little layers she’d given her a while ago at the sides of her face to frame her jaw. Her daughter was serene beneath her touch, fully trusting, and she thanked the tea and the loudening rain for soothing Kagome’s nerves from what they were in the bathroom.

The crying from the mourning mother was, once again, drowned out for the most part. Now and again she could be heard, and quite frankly, she felt the mother should be heard. She should be heard all over the country, the world, and her cries should echo in the ears of the demons who had the gall to take her baby from her. Her wailing should be the only thing they’re sentenced to listen to for the rest of their days, and if they have ever done this to another, all those mothers should play over each other. Like an infinite ringing of misery for only the assailants to hear. She could imagine their prideful smiles at first, but like anybody else, they would eventually fall to their knees and beg for the agony to end.

They had the audacity to call humans selfish. Humans, at least, had hearts.

“There. All done.” She grinned, placing the scissors on the table and dusting the trimmings of dark hair from Kagome’s shirt. Gently, she cupped her daughter’s cheeks, staring into her big, brown eyes for a moment before leaning forward and kissing her forehead again. “Let’s get Miroku into bed.”

“Don’t worry about it, mama. I’ll get him. I can handle it.” Kagome said, turning around to glimpse at her resting cousin.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Alright. I’ll make him a little mixture that’ll help him sleep through the night. I’ll be in the room in a moment.”

Kagome stood from her seat, sauntering over to the couch were she softly rubbed her fingers over Miroku’s sternum. He didn’t move, so she tried again, whispering his name. When he didn’t rouse that time, she tapped his collarbone, knowing, for whatever reason, that he hated being touched there. Miroku cringed, like a shiver was running down his spine, and squished his shoulder up closer to his ear to stop the weird sensation.

“Hm?” He grumbled.

“Come on, time for bed.” Kagome continued to whisper.

“Why can’t you ever wake me up a normal way?” He asked as he very slowly began to sit up, his voice raspy.

“Because, I don’t want to.” She replied simply, noticing his slight flinch. “Are you in pain?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Too late.”

“It’s not that bad. It comes and goes because of the medicine.”

“All depending on your positioning, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, let me help.” Kagome extended her hand to him, and when he took it, she gripped it tight, pulling it closer to her chest for stability, and firmly grasped his elbow with her other. “Ready?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath and holding it in as he pushed his legs to stand and she yanked him up the rest of the way. It was all he could do to swallow the gasp of pain his throat went to release by reaction, only allowing an airy hiss to glide from his lips. He wrapped his arm over Kagome’s shoulders once his feet got situated beneath him, knowing she could handle the weight he braced on her. His muscles just weren’t working with him - whether it be due to discomfort or just a lack of mobility. He blamed the medicine for the latter. He felt lightheaded as soon as he was vertical and had to really take a moment to shut his eyes and gain his bearings. His cousin was patient though, standing still, holding him up with only minor swaying, and waiting for him to initiate the walk forward.

With only a few stumbles here and there, Kagome managed to get Miroku into his and Sota’s shared room in one piece, slowly and carefully lowering him onto his bed at the far end. She helped him get situated beneath the covers, making sure he was comfortable as he allowed his body to sink into his mattress.

“Mama’s gonna come in with more medicine for you.” She said softly. “Bet you miss your high now, huh?”

“It was short-lived, I’ll admit.” He chuckled.

She giggled in return, taking a moment to find the matches and light a candle in the corner of the room for just a little extra light.

“Hey,” Miroku spoke. “Come here.”

“I wasn’t leaving yet.” She mentioned, shaking the fire of her match out, setting it in the trash, and walking back over to him. Cautiously, Kagome sat on the edge of the bed beside him, giving a meager smile.

“How are you?” He asked with sincerity, and it was clear he was referring to what had happened earlier that day.

“Don’t ask.” She said.

“Too late.” He bounced her own reply off of her.

Kagome couldn’t find it in her to give an answer to that question. She felt an immense amount of guilt for everything going through her head, for her decision to head out on her own, and especially for the beating he’d taken earlier. He was down for the count, while she was the one who’d gotten him into that trouble. Yet, she was perfectly fine, walking around, with only a soreness in and on her neck and a throbbing headache that would, no doubt, go away quicker than the ache in his ribs.

“Are they broken?” She asked, avoiding his own question.

“Don’t know. I don’t think so, but we gotta wait for the doc to determine whether they are or not.”

Kagome nodded in acknowledgment, bowing her head and eyes for a small moment before looking back into his dark blue irises. “I’m sorry.”

“I knew that was coming.” Miroku chuckled. “Shut up. You know I don’t blame you.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” She shakily replied.

“So, you were the one who kicked me repeatedly?”

Kagome winced at the visual.

“You were the one who ordered the demons to attack me?”

“Miroku -“

“You were the one -“

“I get it. No.” She interjected, stopping him from taking her mind back to the scene.

“But, it was because you ran out in the first place that the whole thing happened, right? That what you were gonna say? And, also because you mentioned Kikyo, which was how the whole thing escalated so drastically?”

“Is it wrong?”

“Yes and no.” He stated with a shrug of his brow. “I mean, would I have gotten my ass kicked if you’d stayed in line? Maybe not. But, that’s much worse, in my opinion. That means we all would have just stood by and watched. It’s almost as bad as the culprits if you think about it. And, you mentioning Kikyo isn’t that out of pocket. I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. Saying something like that, as impulsive as it may have been, and as dangerous as it had proven to be, doesn’t put you in the wrong. You had solid and good intentions. You didn’t expect anything that had happened today, so get your head out of the toxic mindset that I know it’s sitting in. Focus on what I’m saying, okay? I ran in to try to get him off of you because you’re my family. I’m going to protect you the best that I can. Not once did I think, ‘Oh man, there goes Kagome, getting herself into trouble again.’ My thought process was, and still stands, that they had no fucking right to touch you. The only thing going through my head was to make sure he didn’t kill you. And, I took an ass whooping because I wasn’t strong enough to handle them. Apparently, brute strength isn’t my forte.”

Kagome couldn’t stop her little laugh from escaping. She shook her head, her little grin remaining as she bowed down to rest on her cousin’s chest, not quite placing much of her weight on him.

“You know damn well that if I felt something was your fault, I’d tell you. Bluntly.” Miroku mentioned, rubbing her arm.

“I know.” She giggled again. “But, I still feel bad.”

“Well, stop.”

“On it.” She grunted sarcastically. As if it were that easy.

“One more thing, and this is the most important part, okay?”

“What?” Kagome asked into his chest, feeling it was safe enough to place a little more weight on him when he hugged her, pulling her closer so he could whisper in her ear.

“Not a single one of us knew there was another conjurer nearby. Don’t you dare begin to think that there was anything you could have done to prevent her death.”

Slowly, very slowly, Kagome pushed herself to sit up. It probably wasn’t the hardest thing to do to guess one of the most plaguing thoughts on her mind - she really wasn’t a difficult person to read - but it was still a thing Miroku could easily point out, even in the most difficult of moments.

“You and your frankness.” She sighed.

“You’re gonna be fine, Kagome.” He reassured her, noticing the way her brown eyes couldn’t meet his. “We all are. This won’t last forever.”

Kagome nodded, not able to respond before her mother came in with his next serving of medicine. She used the moment to lighten the mood a little, giving her cousin a side glance.

“Have fun in your coma.”

“Ha - haha - ha. So funny.” He remarked, cringing at the ill-tasting mixture of ground herbs coming his way.

She wished him goodnight then slipped out of the room, sauntering to her own and getting comfortable on her bed. It wasn’t too long before her mom came in to turn things down and make sure she was comfortable. Kagome had to put valiant effort into not making her emotions obvious when she was hugged close. She had to remind herself not to hold on for longer than normal, or cling tighter, or become the least bit shaky, knowing this was the last time she’d see her for a while.

If not the last time ever.

Kagome took a steadying breath, forcing that negative thought from her mind, and when her mama looked at her, she was as composed as ever. Those bad thoughts had no place seeping through. If she was going to do this, which she was, she was going to have to be as strong as possible.

“Goodnight, Kagome. I love you.”

“Love you too, mama.” She smiled, enjoying her warm touch before she left the room, leaving the door cracked.

It was only moments later that a small knock on her door greeted her, bringing her attention back over as her younger brother snuck through, quietly closing it all the way.

“Hey.” Sota whispered, seeming uncertain where he lingered. Kagome knew what he’d shown up for though, so she crawled out of bed. It’s almost like her welcome served as his initiative, and he moved forward, somewhat hurriedly, meeting her halfway and colliding straight into a hug.

His arms wrapped firmly around her sides, fingers gripping into the back of her shirt as his cheek pushed uncomfortably into the bone of her shoulder. He didn’t care. Sota only pulled his sister closer, unable to take a full breath from the frazzled nerves that kept him from letting her go just yet.

“Come back.”

“I will.” Kagome responded softly.

“Be safe.”

“You, too.”

Sota somehow managed to pull her even closer, holding her as tight as his arms would allow. “I mean it, Kagome. I know you can do it. So, prove it.”

Kagome appreciated the challenge. He knew it was something that got her heart sparking and the gears in her mind turning to find solutions.

He felt the nod she gave, her own arms matching his fervor as they wrapped snuggly around his shoulders. “And, you’re sure there’s no way I can talk you out of this?”

Kagome giggled lightly, shaking her head. “Come on, you’re really gonna say that after giving me encouragement?”

Sota chuckled, himself. “Worth a shot.” He said, finally releasing his sister and taking a step back. “Do you have everything you’ll need?”

“I think so. I should be good.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Isn’t that the question of the century.” She stated more than asked, the sarcasm clear on her tongue. Broadening her shoulders, Kagome leveled her expression, her brown eyes locking with Sota’s. “Look, I need you to do some things while I’m gone. You’re going to have to be strong. Don’t worry about having to be strong enough for the both of us in my absence; I don’t want that pressure on your shoulders. But, you’ll still need to amp it up a bit, buddy. Keep mama safe, and help Miroku with the heavy duty stuff - he won’t be able to lift things for a while. Things are going to be tense when they find out I’m gone, so expect a spike in stress levels, okay?”

“Okay.” He gave a curt nod.

“Help mama. I know this is going to be hard on her. Tell her I love her. Please.”

“I will.”

“When and if Naraku’s men come back, whatever you do, do not bring attention to the fact that I’m missing. Hopefully, they won’t even notice, but I made the mistake of standing out today so there is a possibility. If they do happen to notice, make something up. Tell them I’m out at the market or something. You know the drill. And, lastly, I need you to take care of yourself. You can’t help if you’re sick or hurt. Mama would be devastated if anything happened to you, and I’m not going to be around to protect you. So, here’s your first lesson in fighting: prioritize your safety and wellbeing. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” Sota appeared to have stood up taller as he said that, nodding again as his brows twitched with determination. “What about Miroku?”

“He can’t do much in his current condition. Hopefully, he’ll be back on his feet soon, but as of right now, he’s out. We’re covered with wood and food for a while, and Sango and Kohaku will be more than happy to help out - and most likely will without even being asked - but that still means you’ll have to compensate here and there. When it comes to Naraku’s men, he can take care of himself, but he can’t step in for anyone at the moment. Just - I don’t know - do whatever you feel is the smartest thing depending on the situation. You’re pretty clever, so I have faith in you. I’m assuming once Miroku’s back to normal, or close enough, he’ll be on my tail.”

“I figured that, too. Good luck whenever that happens.”

Kagome let out an overwhelmed snicker. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

“Anything else?” He asked, seemingly taking mental notes on everything she tasked him with.

Kagome took a moment to rack her brain, unable to come up with something off the top of her head. She kept opening her mouth to say something, her tongue clicking, but she’d stop herself every time because she’d realized she’d only be repeating herself. Resolutely, she shook her head.

“Right. Well, I’ve got things covered here, sis. You don’t have to worry about it. Just focus on your goal.”

“Big words.” Kagome grinned, admiring her younger sibling. “I’m not worried about a thing. I trust you.” She saw his shoulders widen at the confidence she presented him with, observing how his smile was one of pride. “Remember what I said, okay? This is officially your first bit of training.”

“Right.”

“Good. Now, go back to bed. Mama’s still awake, and she might notice you’re up soon.” Kagome said, ruffling her brother’s hair.

“Okay. I guess this is goodbye.” There was a slight waver in his lips, in his tone.

“No.” Kagome gave a scrunch of her nose. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya.” He mouthed, the whisper of his tongue hardly notable. Sota gave her one last glance before slipping from her bedroom, shutting the door on his way out.

Kagome listened to the rain with as much contentment as was possible in the anticipating moment, the thunder never returning from it’s earlier pause. She felt they were on the latter half of the storm that would soon calm and clear away, and figured it would only be another couple of hours before she could slip out and begin her unnerving adventure. Laying her head against her pillow, she got comfortable, eyes on the dancing flame of her candle as she busied her efforts to keep the nervous thoughts at bay. She wondered where she was meant to go and what, exactly, she was meant to do out there. What did Kikyo mean by this being their responsibility? Were other conjurers actually in the mix? Would she meet them soon after leaving here? Or, was she bound to be alone until joining the group immediately before their fight with Naraku? Additionally, how soon was that fight going to be? Tomorrow? Next week? Months from now? Sometimes, Kagome felt that not knowing the answers was the worst form of lack of control to exist.

But, then the earlier thought returned to her mind. What if there were no other conjurers? It didn’t mean that there were no other surviving conjurers out there, it was more like she was the only conjurer Kikyo was in communication with. Was that the case? For some horrible reason, Kagome had the gut wrenching feeling that it was true. When Kikyo said “ours,” she meant Kagome and herself. It didn’t make sense, though. Why? What about Kagome attracted Kikyo’s undivided attention?

It was an idea that Kagome told herself over and over to put to rest. There was no use in figuring out someone else’s thought process. There was no use fighting for control over something she didn’t even know how to gain control over. There was only flowing with the process, trusting it, and figuring things out along the way. What was stronger than the gut feeling that she may potentially be the only conjurer Kikyo was referring to, was that things would eventually sort themselves out. Things would be okay. She just had to take it all one step at a time.

As soon as she’d closed her eyes, Kagome found herself at the base of the tree line at the back of their house. It was dark, barely drizzling, the mud beneath her feet more of a liquid than a clumpy mess of wet dirt. She was dressed in what she wore earlier that day, her hand bleeding, dripping of her own and the child’s blood. Her cheek still stung from the slap she’d received from that monster, her throat aching with the reminder of each finger he’d wrapped around her neck, and her head a confused and clustered mess of unsorted thoughts. She was soaked through, shivering from the anxiety and the cold, and when she looked through the break in the trees, as dark as it was, she saw a woman’s figure looking back at her. She stood beside the rope ladder that led to the treehouse Kagome and Sota’s father had built for them, her fingers hooking around the rope to make it swing.

Kagome blinked profusely, trying to make her eyes adjust faster to the lack of light, trying to make her eyes focus on each detail of the woman several feet away from her. She had skin as light as pearl, the curves of someone a little more mature than she, eyes that were too dark to catch a shred of a glimmer but still, somehow, held the evidence of someone who’d seen too much for her age. Her hair, long, ebony, straight, hanging loosely over her shoulders and down to her hips was the dead giveaway. Kikyo. It was Kikyo.

“You.” Kagome breathed.

“Wake up.” Kikyo said, walking closer. She was dressed in perfectly-fitted pants, a tucked and loose blouse - so loose, it looked like she may have taken a man’s shirt and made it her own - and leather boots that met her knees. Over her shoulder sat a leather quiver filled with arrows, a bow strapped right next to it.

“What?”

“It’s time to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Kagome, stop asking questions.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course, I do. I know plenty about you and what you offer; you should know that by now. Now, I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

Kagome held her breath, waiting for the words this powerful conjurer was about to say. Her stomach twisted and knotted, her lip trembled with nerves she couldn’t fight, and all aching in the rest of her body went silent. This was surreal. It was the clearest she’d ever seen Kikyo. It was the loudest she’d ever heard her. This wasn’t a pre-recorded memo delivered to her unconscious state; Kagome actually felt like she was living out this moment.

“It’s time to go.”

Kikyo stood at the edge of the tree line. At the edge of the forest. Her dark eyes locked with Kagome’s, not a single thing about her unsteady, unsure, or fragmented.

Her lips parted once more, her tone more demanding and direct. “Wake up. It’s time to go.”

Kagome gasped, eyes shooting open as she stared at the weakened fire of the candle she’d never blown out. Had she fallen asleep? For how long?

She listened carefully, taking in her surroundings. There was barely any sound of rain, the house was painfully quiet, and the world outside seemed at peace. Still, her mind was loud, energetic, alive with Kikyo’s statement. It was time to go.

Kagome got out of bed, lowering to her knees to reach beneath and pull her things forward. Hastily, she dressed in her chosen outfit, tying her bodice securely and then shoving her feet into the boots beside her closet to pull up and sit snugly mid-calf. In her little mirror, she fixed up her face and ran her fingers through her hair, feeling as satisfied as one could feel in a spontaneous moment to leave.

And, it needed to remain spontaneous. Kagome couldn’t allow herself a moment to look back at the room, the house, and bask in the nostalgia and happy memories. If she did, the doubt would only have a crack to seep back through. Kagome couldn’t allow herself a moment to wish her family well and say goodbye. Spontaneous meant now, and now it was. It was time to go.

Silently, Kagome pushed her window open after strapping her bag over her shoulder. The air was nippy and she wished she’d thought to grab her cloak, but it hung in the entryway of their home. There was no easy or worthwhile way to grab it. She’d be fine. It wasn’t winter, so no matter what, she wouldn’t freeze to death. Kagome climbed over and out, hanging onto the windowsill until she knew her feet would meet the ground without slipping from beneath her.

It was like the action of leaving simultaneously stole the breath from her lungs and gave her vigor. It was terrifying and happening, but nothing was stopping her right now. She kept her sloshing footsteps as quiet as she could, making her way around the siding of their home and toward the back where she’d seen Kikyo.

She wasn’t there. Kagome wasn’t all that surprised, but the dream had seemed so vivid. It was like the conjurer had literally stood just feet away a mere moment ago, and yet the gap in the trees remained as empty as ever. Still, Kagome pushed herself to follow through, resisting the fluttering sensation in her chest to turn around one last time. To give a mental goodbye. She couldn’t.

Somehow, walking through the forest line felt like she was walking through a barrier of sorts. She’d traveled through numerous times, but this time was different. It was like passing through a wall, the boundary holding everything back but her, signifying the beginning of whatever Kagome was bound to face.

She walked up the little path, her eyes still wandering about, looking for Kikyo. When she’d caught something moving to the left in front of her, her attention snapped that way immediately, surprised with the sight of the rope ladder gently swaying. There was no wind to be had, the drizzle of the ending storm barely making it through the treetops to freckle Kagome’s cheeks.

“Kikyo?” She asked, her voice still raspy from the damage she’d taken - and, she figured it would remain that way for a few days at the very least.

No answer.

“Kikyo, are you there?” Kagome tried again, approaching the ladder and grabbing it to stop the rhythm.

Silence.

“Where do I go?” But, as soon as the question had left her tongue, she felt in her core that she knew the answer. She had a plan to head to the cave they’d always trained at on the far outskirts of the village. That’s where they’d hidden their supplies for the day they’d eventually leave. That’s where her bow and arrows were.

Kagome headed that way, her pace quick. There was no way in hell she was about to be alone in the dark, traveling the woodlands without a weapon to keep her safe. The entire way there, and especially as she got closer, she kept her senses alert. If there were demons around, she needed to be careful. Thankfully, she felt absolutely nothing in the air. She was safe. So, she ran through the entrance of the cave, traveling toward a nook, and pulling out the bag.

She found herself mentally apologizing to Miroku and Sango for, what felt like, thievery. Hopefully, if they ever decided to come after her - which was a terrifying thought, because she couldn’t imagine her cousin going easy on her when they caught up - they’d think ahead to restock. She could imagine them being impulsive, grabbing the items, and heading off without realizing she’d taken some important things, but knowing Miroku, as smart as he was capable of being, he’d realize Kagome wouldn’t walk out empty-handed.

The medical supplies were on the top of her list, so she fished them out and transferred the kit into the bag she planned to carry. Then some dried food they’d recently collected, because she really wasn’t the best hunter. She could catch fish pretty well, but when it came to land animals, for some reason, it was a completely different story. The half-full water canteen was next, and she went ahead and took a sip of it before sliding the bottle to sit at the side of her bag. Kagome shoved her hand to the very bottom of the sack, wriggling her fingers to find the handle to something that must have gotten buried beneath everything else by accident. When she felt the cold end of the metal butt, she grasped for it, pulling free the small hunting knife that used to belong to her father.

It was something he’d always carried on him, something he’d purchased before she was even born, and when his ashes were buried, she’d not-so-subtly stolen the knife away so it wasn’t taken with him. She slipped the sheathed blade into the side of her boot, moving her leg around so it fit comfortably in between.

There was a pocket on the inside of the bag, and she reached in, pulling out a pouch of money they’d raised together doing little side jobs around the area and even outside of town. That one she felt the worst for taking, but there was no way she could do this without something to fall back on. It was for emergencies, and she would be frugal. Once Kagome had grabbed all that she’d come for, she walked to the opposite side of the cave. Behind a large rock, safe and tucked away from plain view, sat Sango’s sword, Miroku’s staff, and Kagome’s own bow and quiver of arrows. She carefully made sure the other weapons didn’t fall as she pulled hers free, adjusting the quiver and bow to sit securely over her shoulder.

Feeling confident that she had all that she needed, Kagome headed out. Without stopping to figure out a direction, she let her feet and gut lead the way, careful of her footing over rocks until she met the muddy path that guided her deep into the forest. It was still pitch black out, the moon hidden behind thick clouds that once roared over their village. Kagome couldn’t move as fast as she wanted at the moment, her eyes refusing to completely adjust, and therefore having to mind what she walked over carefully.

She walked until light began to show over the distant mountains, a very patchy, blue and grey glow greeting the new day. It had been hours and Kagome was fatigued, willing to bet she’d only dozed off for a short amount of time before she left her home. The morning smelled of dew, the clouds above her were thinning, little sections beginning to break away for the first time in several days.

The ground wasn’t as wet here, having apparently managed to travel far enough away from the center of the storm. Her heels didn’t sink into the earth, and the air didn’t smell of rain. Hadn’t in miles. She felt no demonic or dangerous forces around, didn’t hear the wake up call of the animals, and knew she was safe and alone.

The mere thought of wandering further at the moment was exhausting. She’d gotten far enough away from her town, and didn’t recognize a single thing around her. So, she located a small clearing a little ways off of her path, one that seemed dry and cozy enough - relatively speaking, of course. She gathered wood and kindling that wasn’t wet, which was a feat on it’s own; she was ready to give up before she found enough to start a little fire for warmth. And, as Kagome got it going, bathing in the heat it provided as it grew to a moderate size, she leaned back against a tree, snuggling up to herself. Honestly, she’d meant to stay awake. Her intentions were merely to rest until she could gather enough energy to continue on and find an inn of some sort far off. Evidently, her eyes had a plan of their own; a more domineering plan. They grew heavy, they stung with weariness, and they closed of their own accord, dragging Kagome to sleep.

—

Boots clapped against the ground, amber eyes, illuminated and daring, locked on their target. He smiled crookedly, tongue gliding over his fang while he shrugged his brows. His silver hair, held back in a high ponytail, swayed to the side as the hanyou cocked his head slightly, his sword braced over his shoulder.

“Why’d you run?” Inuyasha asked.

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[intotherumiverse]

Chapter 2

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I’m still on my fae bull shit so yee have fun with this  ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: blood, violence, pov changes ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ: @lilsparkyswife​, a brief mention of @katsumiiii​ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.9k 

Yvonne’s Pov

The Summer Court was known for a lot of things. Yes, we did the dirty work for people who didn’t want to be seen doing it. We lied for liars, stole for stealers, and cheated cheaters. But we were big on loyalty. I mean if we couldn’t trust one of our own, who could we trust? But driving back home, knowing what we had to tell Bakugou….

Maybe it was better if we lied.

We found him training. Sweat dripped down his face as more and more holograms blur around him. His muscles tighten in frustration as the holograms look like they are about to win.  Power training was something I always hated. We were already fast and strong, why work yourself to the bone to gain some other ability. But some people did it, Like (Y/n), but others have tried every day to improve themselves to no avail. All of us has given up at some point, Bakugou was just a matter of time.

The hologram knocked his sword out o his hand, and he glances at it as if something miraculous was going to happen. When he realizes nothing is happening, he lets out a grunt of anger.

“He’s rarely happy anymore,” I think to myself. “ Well, it wasn’t unusual, well for Bakugou at least, but his obsession was going a bit too far”

“Good luck with him,” Mina says while Mira walks away.

“If you live we’ll see you in the meeting room. You know where, so don’t die.”

“Gee, Such wonderful friends,” I say back.

. Turning back towards the entrance of the training room, I walk, cleared my throat, and spoke up

“Bakugou?”

All I get is another grunt as a reply, knowing he was somewhat listening. He continued his workout, concentrating on summoning a weapon in his hand.

“Bakubitch!”

He gives me a glare. Well, that got his attention.

“Whatdoyouwant?”

I hated when he was like this, not wanting to listen to anyone else even his friends. Steeling myself, I spit out the ugly truth to him

“(Y/n)gotkidnappedanditwasn’tourfault.”

“What? You said that too fast for me to even hear.”

“(Y/n) got kidnapped-”

“HUH?? HOW’D YOU IDIOTS LET THAT-”

“Will you shut up and let me explain?”

Rolling my eyes I wanted until Bakugou was calm, well calm enough, to begin.

“We had a mission. One assigned to us by the King. Someone from Spring Court wanted someone from Autumn off their back and they had enough money to pay for it. Shit went sideways and long story short, (Y/n) got taken… by Izuku Midoriya.”

I barely had time to doge before the knife was embedded into the target behind me. Such primal behavior, attacking me without warning.

“So you’re telling me… Izuku Midoriya took (Y/n) and you and the rest of the team, just fucking stood there?”

Another knife dodged. He’s making it harder and harder for me not to hit him

“Will you stop using me as target practice long enough so we can get her back?”

“It’s the Autumn Court. Who knows where they took her? She could be halfway to the gates of hell and back before we figure it out.”

Walking over to the target and prying the daggers off of it, I threw them back in rapid succession. He dodged the first one, but the second one scratched his face, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake.

“Next time you throw a knife at me make sure it hit its intended mark”

And with that, I leave the training room.

(Y/n)‘s POV

Being interrogated by the Autumn Court was… It’s an experience, let's just say. They had a lot of ways of making you talk, and once you open your mouth there is no stopping them.

Due to their power, vocals are the thing that they focus heavily on. It’s easy to fall into their trap but easy to evade it if you know what you’re doing. Just don’t say anything. I’ve been doing that for three hours now.

Granted it was hard. They tried everything short of laying hands on me. Ripping my dress, threatening my family and friends, you know the usual. But they couldn’t get me to talk. Then they called the motherfucking prince, who also happens to be the person I wanted dead.

“Just answer the question, doll, and you can go home.” Stupid motherfucker, staring down at me with that condescending smile I think.  The haze of his power swirling around me, deep and smoky. Izuku was powerful, yes. But against me, he was nothing.

Smiling at him, I think to myself ‘You’ll get me to talk when I’m dead and gone’

Tracing his hand on my jawline slowly, like I was glass, brittle and ready to break. He stares deep into my eyes and for a moment, a hint of a second, I see the pain in his eyes. Something indescribable, intangible, but somehow there. And the moment is over. Harshly grabbing my chin, the pain is covered with feral, oddly flat green eyes.

“Tell me. Or else we’ll have to resort to… uglier methods of gaining information from you. And trust me, darling, you won’t like those methods.”

I took the saliva from my own mouth, aimed carefully, and spit on him. It landed directly on his eye.

“You fucking cunt!” He recoils in disgust, wiping his eye fervently. I smile in pride, knowing I got under his skin.

He backs up away from the cell I was in, taking one more look at my triumphant face, before saying to the guards, “Make sure she doesn’t escape.”

I heard his angry footsteps echo, and finally, the silence came.

The guards snicker at the recent events, before one of them saying,

“You’re going to regret that, you know? No one messes with Prince Midoriya and lives to tell the tale.”

“Guess I’ll be the first,” I replied back.

And then I broke the chains.

Izuku’s Pov

Fuck I missed her. She was the part of me that I never knew I needed. She was my blood, my bones, framing me into what I am now. And seeing her now, it made my bones ache, my blood sing. An agonizing, beautiful song. Placing my head into my hands, I bite the insole of my palms.

‘Where did it all go wrong?’ I thought to myself.

Sorting myself out, I walk through the quiet corridors of the Autumnal Palace. The sun shining through the high glass windows, mocking me with its beauty. It seems fit, having such a wonderful day go on outside as I suffer internally. With hastened pace, I make my way towards my personal team.

Stopping in front of the common room, I fix myself, running my hairs through my hair before walking in.

“Oh hey man,” Sero was the first one who saw me, giving a toothy smile “How’d the interrogation go…” he trails off, seeing the scowl on my face.

“So not well” One of Shoji’s many arms pops up and says.

Choosing my words carefully I say “It didn’t go as expected. (Y/n)’s a difficult one.”

Difficult wasn’t even the basis to cover it. She was infuriating, complex, and every time I see her it spurs my heart on erratically. But how could I say that in words?

My team was a good one, personally trained by myself, but sometimes they were a little too bit much.

Ochako pipes up from where she was sitting “Izu, don’t worry. We finally caught (Y/n)! After two and half years no less. All your hard work won’t be for nothing.”

“Yeah, man! This is cause for celebration! We finally caught (Y/n), Summer Court’s deadliest assassin. It’s time to kick back and celebrate-” At that moment, Ojirio storms in, face in pain as blood soaks his normally white clothes. The look on his face said that something was clearly wrong.

“(Y/n) escaped)”

Cocking my eyebrow I stare at Sero.

“Celebration huh?”

(Y/n)’s Pov

I hated being chased. Everyone talks about the exhilarating feeling of almost not making it but does anyway, but all I feel is annoyed. Turning another corner I hear in the distance. Luckily the guards tattered the ends of my dress, so it was easier to run in it

“Don’t let her escape! We need her alive!”

‘Autumn Court’ I thought to myself ‘One person escapes and they go bat shit crazy. Well, it is me.”

I look around looking for a place to hide out until the guards’ pass. Then looking up I spot...

“A vent. Perfect.” I whisper to myself. Working quickly, I made my way into the ventilation system. I keep myself there, holding my breath until I hear footsteps. It was two of the workers there.

“It’s such a shame,” one says to another. “King Toshinori has never done anything helpful since the Prince had been announced.” The other one shakes their head shamefully.

“I know right? Even since Izuku became prince, he’s nowhere to be seen or heard. It’s like he just placed all the burden on Prince Izuku and moved on with his life.”

Oh? Izuku’s being packed with the burden. I guess Von will find that information useful. Waiting until I couldn’t hear the voices of anyone, I get down from the vents.

“Easy as pie.” I smile at my genius.

“Spread out and find her! She couldn’t have gone far!” I see one the second in command, Ochako Uraraka yells. My smile turns into a grimace at her figure. I’ve never liked her but after the incident three years ago…

I didn’t let myself think of it, rather waited until I couldn’t hear footsteps anymore before dropping out of the vent.

Corridor after corridor, I run the palace. The orange-gold of the palace becoming a blur as I see the doors towards my freedom.

“THERE SHE IS. AFTER HER!” Fuck they found me. I was almost there, just a little more… Then I feel a large object knock into my back.

Giving a little as I went down, I turn quickly. Seeing the familiar hair of…

“(Y/n) don’t do this,” His soft voice rings out, power laced in it even now. “Just come back and we can get you home safely” Gritting my teeth at Izuku, I clench my fist and throw a punch. All the while my other hand summons a small dagger before dipping it in some poison and stabbing Izuku in the thigh.

How dare he. How dare he pretend that he cares, after all, he did to me, to my Court.

“Fuck!” Izuku screams.

Pulling him up by his collar I spit it out.

“Rot in hell.”

In the back, the rest of his team runs, seeing their leader hurt.

Not sticking around, I take off running, getting the doors of the front of the castle.

The night was dark as I fumbled slightly down the stairs of the castle.

‘Shit, shit, shit. I need a place to hide’ I think.

Running towards the car area of the courtyard, I see a black party bus sitting fairly near the gates. Sneaking into the back doors, I sit in the darkness.

“She couldn’t have gone far, split up and search.” I hear the voices agree before splitting off in different directions.

“Well, Well, WELL.” I’m suddenly knocked off my feet, and without another chance to regain my balance, my chin is grabbed. Sharp nails meet my flesh, threatening to make me bleed.

“What should we do with her Dabi?” a feminine voice reaches my ears.

“Drug ‘er. We’ll deal with her when the others come back. Shiggy will know what to do with ‘er”

“Sure.” Something stabbed into my neck and everything goes dark.

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[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Nothing Wrong

Prompt: Writing prompt for Merlin (preferably time passes?): Modern Day everyone try to explain to Arthur how life works now and Arthur trying to get Merlin to therapy because JESUS DUDE and coming up with a somewhat workable alibi for what can essentially be called immortality angst. Hope you're having a lovely day!!

Thanks for the prompt, babe! This is part of a series over on my Ao3 but it can be read as a standalone

Read on Ao3

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2217

 So it turns out that Merlin, to no one's surprise but his, could benefit from seeing a therapist.

“Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Emrys,” Dr. Lerchen says as Merlin sits down in the plush chair, “it’s good to meet you.”

 “You as well, Dr. Lerchen.”

 “Please, Melanie is fine.” Dr. Le—Melanie smiles and fixes her glasses. “I understand that you’ve never been to a therapist before?”

 “Can’t say I have.”

 “Well, I’m happy to have you. May I ask what you’ve heard about therapy?”

 “That it’s something I should definitely do.”

 “Well, I make no judgments about that, but what else?”

 Merlin hesitates. He’s never had someone who’s…paid to listen to him. Whose job it is to help him sort through the mess in his brain. It feels…counterintuitive.

 Melanie nods when he says as much. “You’re not the first person who feels a little awkward asking a therapist for help. Nor are you the first to think you don’t actually need it.”

 Merlin blinks. “I didn’t say that.”

 “No—“ Melanie gives him a look— “but am I right?”

 He fidgets in the chair.

 “You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to,” she says after a moment, “but I want to reassure you that you don’t need to have a reason to see a therapist.”

 “I don’t?”

 She shrugs. “Some people see me because they’re having issues at work that they’re struggling to manage. Some people see me because they’ve got mental issues they need help with. And some people see me because they’ve never actually had someone to talk to.”

 “…really?”

 Melanie smiles. “Yes, Mr. Emrys. You don’t have to need therapy to have therapy.”

 A weight begins to lift off his shoulders. Judging by Melanie’s smile, she can see it. She sits back in her chair too and tilts her head.

 “Is that all this is,” Merlin murmurs, mostly to himself, “is this…therapy?”

 “Well, I’m not sure if it’s as easy to tell from the two minutes you’ve been here,” she laughs, “but…yes. I ask questions, and if you like, you answer them. Or we simply talk. About…whatever you’d like.”

 “Whatever I like?”

 “Believe me, I’ve spent sessions discussing nothing but movies and favorite colors.”

 “With children?”

 “With adults.” She gestures between them. “I’m here to provide the support you need to work through things. Does that sound alright?”

 “…yes,” Merlin breathes, “that sounds…that sounds great.”

 “Wonderful. May I ask you a few questions about why you’re here today?”

 “Yes.”

 “Do you mind if I write them down?”

 Merlin shakes his head and she retrieves a notepad.

 “In your request for an appointment, you mentioned that you’d been referred to me by a friend of yours?”

 “Yes, um, Leon Camlynn.”

 “Ah, yes, I see.” She makes a note. “Had you been discussing therapy with him prior to the referral?”

  “You should try it, Merlin,” Leon says encouragingly as Arthur sits down on the couch, “it’s just talking.”

  “I’ve had experience with therapy before, Leon.”

  “Not like this,” Leon promises, his eyes shining with the understanding of what type of ‘therapy’ Merlin’s been put through, “I promise.”

  Merlin sighs. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine, Leon, I—“

  “Merlin,” Arthur interrupts softly, “I think you should try it. Just once, at least.”

  He doesn’t blink at Merlin’s look of betrayal.

  “Leon says it helps him, and maybe it’ll help you too.”

  “There is so much between us already,” Leon says softly, drawing Merlin’s attention again, “so much history—“

  “So why would I want to talk to someone that I’d have to explain things to?”

  “—that you might not be able to talk about it with us,” Leon finishes, “and you’d only have to explain as much as you were comfortable with.”

  Merlin sighs. “I don’t believe you. There’s—I—I can’t—my—hmm.”

  “You don’t have to explain everything all the time, Merlin,” Leon says, “and you definitely won’t have to during the first session.”

 “I agree,” Melanie says, patiently writing things down, “I’m not here to pressure you into telling me things you’re not comfortable with, nor am I going to tell you what to do.”

 “He said that I should get used to talking to someone.” Merlin toys with the end of his shirt. “Someone that wasn’t…him.”

 Melanie nods. “How long has it been? Since you spoke to someone other than Leon?”

 1500 years. “…a while.”

 “And is Leon your closest friend? Do you have anyone else?”

 “I know people at work, I talk to them, they drag me out for pub nights. But Leon’s my only…friend-friend, really.”

 “I see.” She looks back at the appointment record. “It says here you’re also considering whether or not you have some sort of PTSD?”

  Damnit, Leon.

 “…yes.”

 “You needn’t tell me anything you feel uncomfortable telling me,” Melanie reminds, “but whatever you do tell me will be useful in how I can help you.”

 Merlin can’t help glancing at the door.

 “Doctor-patient confidentiality,” comes the quiet reassurance, “nothing you say will leave this room.”

 He takes a deep, slow breath. He hasn’t talked about this to anyone. Not even Arthur. Not really. There are so many secrets that no one knows that he doesn’t know how to tell one without telling all of them.

 “Pick something small,” Melanie suggests when he says as much, “something innocuous. A memory, perhaps, one that makes you happy.”

  “Come on, Merlin, this way!”

  Merlin rolls his eyes as Arthur drags him through the woods. “Whatever creature you’re hunting is going to hear us coming from yards away, as you’re so fond of telling me.”

  “We’re not hunting Merlin, now come on!”

  “Then why are we out in the middle of the woods for no reason? And why am I carrying all this food?”

  Arthur bursts through the edge of the woods into a clearing, spinning around with a blinding smile. “We’re having a picnic.”

  Merlin blanches. “A what?”

  “A picnic, Merlin,” Arthur repeats, taking the basket from him, “we’re going to sit down and eat.”

  And they did, in the field, as butterflies flew around their heads.

 “That sounds lovely,” Melanie says, smiling, “and how long ago was this?”

 Merlin’s smile dims. “A long time.”

 “Was it near where you grew up?”

 “No, no, it was…quite far away. I, um, I grew up in a smaller village and went away to a big city to work.”

 “Was it hard, being away from your family for such a long period of time?”

  He misses his mother’s smile.

  He misses the smell of the barn when he walks outside—not the big, Camelot stables, but their little barn with the cinnamon and cloves stuffed into the corners to keep the old donkey happy.

  He misses Will, the shouts and yells of the other boys as they rush up and down the streets.

  He misses the old man’s warbling in the late night as he walked back and forth with the lantern, putting out the lights on his market stall.

 “I’d never been farther than walking distance away from my home,” he says quietly, examining his hands, “so it was…hard to adjust.”

 “I’m sure. Did you go back to visit them ever?”

  “The winters are harsh in Ealdor,” his mother says, pleading in front of the tightly Uther Pendragon, “and there are many children. Some of them just won't be strong enough to survive. We barely have enough food as it is, and if Kanen takes our harvest, our children won't live to see another summer. Please, we need your help.”

“Ealdor's in Cenred's kingdom,” Uther says dismissively, “your safety is his responsibility.”

“We've appealed to our King, but he cares little for the outlying regions. You're our only hope.”

Uther regards his mother with what can only be described as forced pity. “I have the deepest sympathy for you and would have this barbarian wiped off the face of the earth.”

“You'll help us?”

“I wish I could.”

Perhaps sensing Merlin’s dismay, Arthur speaks up. “Surely we can spare a few men?”

“…once.”

 Melanie tilts her head. “You sound sad.”

 “…my friend died when I went back,” Merlin says, “he…I’d known him since I was a little boy. He was…important to me.”

 “I’m sorry to hear that.” And she does sound genuinely sorry, Merlin realizes, as she leans forward. “What was his name?”

 “Will.”

 “Will,” she repeats, “I’m sorry he passed.”

 Merlin shrugs. Out of all the people he’s lost, he can’t afford to hurt over all of them all the time.

 “What did you do afterward?”

 “I went back to work.”

 Melanie blinks. “Just like that? No time off, no time to grieve?”

 “…where I come from, that wasn’t really a thing.”

 “…I see.”

 Merlin shifts. “Is something wrong?”

 “People need time to process things,” she says, “to reconcile what’s happened in order to learn how to live with it. And if you weren’t given that time…”

 “It wasn’t the most pressing thing on my mind.”

 That gives her pause. She raises an eyebrow and nods for him to continue. Merlin fidgets a little in the chair.

 “…I have a secret,” he says finally, “one that Will died to protect for me.”

 She makes a soft noise.

 “I couldn’t tell anyone,” Merlin continues, staring at a spot on the carpet, “it—they would’ve—“

 He breaks off. He hasn’t thought about his magic like this for centuries. He hasn’t thought about his magic for decades. He hasn’t actually looked at himself for…a long time.

 He’s been hiding for almost as long as he can remember.

 “What would they have done,” Melanie prompts softly.

 “Killed me.” Merlin looks up. “They would’ve killed me.”

 To her credit, Melanie doesn’t look shocked. Instead, she smiles softly.

 “No one will kill you for a secret, Mr. Emrys, not on my watch.”

 That shouldn’t make him feel as warm as it does, but he finds his own mouth turning up into a smile.

 “Does your family know your secret?”

 “My mother did. My father…yes, he knew.”

 “Does Leon know?”

 “Yes.”

 “Anyone else?”

 Merlin hesitates. “Yes. Yes, someone else knows. Even though I…I didn’t…I didn’t tell him when I should have.”

 “You’re the only one who gets to make that decision,” Melanie reassures, “no one else.”

 “But he felt so betrayed when I didn’t tell him. He was…he was angry with me.”

  “You’ve lied to me. You’ve lied all this time.”

  Merlin can’t quite hear his heart crack in two, but he can feel it.

 “Why did you decide to tell him?”

 Merlin shrugs. “He was going to get hurt if I didn’t show—if I didn’t tell him.”

 “Hurt?”

 “He…”

  Ygraine, his mother, gone on the day of his birth because of magic.

  Uther, turned bitter and cynical, making enemies upon enemies of magic while hoarding it for his own selfish purposes.

  Morgana, his own sister, twisted and tortured by Uther, by Arthur, by Merlin, until she was barely recognizable.

  Arthur had lost so much to magic that Merlin can’t bear to give him something else to lose.

 “…he’s already been hurt by it,” Merlin says, shutting his eyes, “I didn’t want to hurt him too.”

 “What happened to him?”

 “He—“

  Mordred steps out from behind a rock and walks toward Arthur, he raises his sword...

  Arthur either hears him or sees his reflection in a sword on the ground. He stands and blocks the attack, he goes to stab and stops, realizing it's Mordred. Mordred stabs him and withdraws the sword, fatally wounding him.

  Arthur goes to a knee.

  Merlin can’t find the breath to scream.

  “Merlin. There is nothing you can do.”

  “I’ve failed?

“No, young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building, has come to pass.”

  “I can't lose him! He's my friend!”

  “Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold, Merlin...Arthur is not just a King-he is the Once and Future King.”

  Once and Forever.

  “Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.”

  Merlin. Merlin is all that’s left.

  “It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock-the story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men.”

  1500 years…

  “Merlin? Merlin!”

  He’s back.

 “…he went away. For a very long time.”

 “And now?”

 Despite everything, Merlin finds himself smiling. “He’s my flatmate.”

 “I’m glad to hear it,” Melanie says softly, smiling too, “you two deserve your soft epilogue.”

 Wait, what?

 “I’m afraid that’s all we have the time for today, Mr. Emrys,” Melanie says, standing and holding out her hand for him to shake, “but I’d be happy to set up another appointment.”

 “Uh, yeah, yeah,” Merlin says, scrambling to his feet and shaking her hand, “and please, Merlin’s fine.”

 “Merlin.” Her handshake is firm, grounding. “Be in touch.”

 “I will.”

 “And one last thing,” she calls as he goes to leave, “there is nothing wrong with being gay, Merlin.”

 Wait, what?

[skellebonez]

AKLJFAHKLFAS, I LOVE THE WAY YOU WROTE SU! If you don't mind me making another request with Tang and Su, how about 34 and 51 with more freenoodleshipping?

HEY-O I heard it was your birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I know you’ve been waiting a long while for this prompt (too long, I have so many...) so I yanked it out of the list and went all out in writing it for you today! I really hope you like it, I tried to work with Su’s new bee form and I have come to the conclusion that bumblebees are the cutest little balls of fuzz with wings.

Truth be told, I forgot they were even here/Can you two save the kissing for later?

"Tang, you're later than usu-whoa," Pigsy startled as the scholar entered Pigsy's Noodles for is usual lunch, deep dark circles under his eyes and hair so messy Pigsy couldn't tell what style it was supposed to be in. "Uh... you ok?"

"Hrmg," was the response he recieved as the man took his usual spot at the bar, barely removing his glasses before face planting into the hard wood with a thunk. The motion made the large bee hanging onto his back jolt, wings buzzing as they craweled further up to his shoulder muttering something softly that Pigsy couldn't exacty hear.

"I think I'll take that as a no," the chef sighed, watching as Su tried to get any kind of response from the clearly exhausted man and was only rewarded with a heavy sigh. "Hold tight."

If it had been any other time in his life Pisgy would be incredibly horrified about a large cat sized bumblebee with pink eyes crawling over his significant other, but at this point in time he was... somewhat used to it. Kind of.. Sure, he was still not entirely used to the whole symbiosis thing and he still startled every so often when they popped up from Tang's back and when Tang suddenly looked at him with entirely pink eyes. But it didn't really scare him like it used to (he would never admit that it used to scare him and that his first time seeing Su one of the first thoughts that he had was that he didn't know whether or not Tang was allergic to bees and instant panic... he still wasn't sure if Tang was allergic to non-demon bees, but he thought that one of them would tell him if he was at this point), and now when he knew Su was around he just reacted as if seeing them were no different than seeing Xiaotian or Xiaojiao. And it kind of was, he supposed.

He hoped that Su was picking up on that, given how adamantly opposed he was not all that long ago. He remembered he was... well, he remembered and was trying not to repeat it.

With the two sitting at the bar he could easily watch them as he prepared a bowl of fresh noodles for Tang, making sure to sneak in a few extra pieces of his favorite ingredients. It was clear the man was exhausted, but even so he did not ignore Su when they started to nuzzle against his face. He watched as Tang lifted a hand without turning his head and gently pat Su's head, rubbing a finger in the soft fuzz between their wings and chuckling softly as Su emmited a tiny purr in response (and if the size didn't give away that Su wasn't just a bee that demon purr certainly did). It really made them seem more like a weird cat than anything else.

Pigsy couldn't help but smile, putting the fresh bowl down to let it cool as he moved to prepare some coffee. It wasn't anything special, he was too impatient to wait for anything more than instant when he absolutely needed caffeine and he always prefered tea anyway, but it looked like Tang needed a bigger energy boost to at least get himself home and he wasn't picky as long as the coffee had enough cream in it himself.

In time he heard a groan and the shuffle of Tang sitting up, buzzing of bee wings signaling that Su had moved to sit on their usual shoulder perch. That was as good an indication as any that Pigsy needed before bringing the still warm soup and just hot enough to be gulped coffee and place them on the counter in front of Tang.

"Coffee first, talk after," Pigsy said as Tang opened his mouth to say something, not missing the soft smile he shot his way before sipping the drink as Pigsy turned to grab something else.

"Oh caffeine how I appreciate you," Tang mumbed out as he took another gulp of the coffee, seeming to care less about the taste than anything else. "Almost as much as Pigsy and Su."

"Oh, it's second place only to the two of us, huh?" Pigsy chuckled as he turned back around with a small saucer of... something that he placed on the counter, clear liquid with yellow something floating around in it.

"Ooooh, oh, what is that?" Su asked, wings buzzing in curiosity. "It smells good!"

"It better smell good, it's for you," Pigsy said with a shrug, taking in the surprised expression on Tang's face and the way Su's head turned in curiosity. "It's uh... sugar water. With some pollen from the flowers outside. Supposed to be like... a treat for bees I guess? Wasn't entirely sure if the pollen was necessary but... uh, it's not something you should have all the time, kinda like coffee." He added the last bit with a smirk toward Tang who let out a laugh.

Su buzzed excitedly, slowly crawling off Tang and making their way to the saucer between the two men to give it a tentative taste before eagerly helping themselves to the treat. Again, Pigsy couldn't help but make the comparison to a cat in his mind.

"So," he said casually, leaning against the counter as Tang moved on from his coffee to take a bite of noodles. "Rough day?"

"Aaaaaaaaaagh yes," Tang groaned, putting his bowl down in an attempt to fix his hair. "I uh..."

"You didn't actualy go to bed last night did you?" Pigsy accused with no anger in is voice.

"I did! For... an hour..." Tang admitted, hiding his face behind his bowl to sip the broth. "I had work to finish and I was already behind and just... snuck out of bed to finish it and before I knew it you had gotten up?"

"I thought you got up to get a head start," Pigsy sighed, reaching out to fix a lock of hair that Tang had missed. "It can't be good to pull all nighters like that."

"It's not," Tang admitted with a scowl. "I feel like death. Apparently I also look like death because I was actually ordered to go home since I had managed to finish everything I needed to and what I was started on was beginning to sound like... gibberish."

"Yikes, that's bad," Pigsy frowned, remembering how Tang had asked him to proofread his work in the past and you could actually tell where he was starting to get tired as his sentences went from scholarly to 'was this person drunk when they wrote this' very obviously. "Can you make it home ok?"

"As long as Su keeps talking to me I'll be just fine," Tang chuckled, taking another thankful gulp of warm broth with a smile. "And maybe with a little... extra incentive to leave?" He raised a brow, smirking and pushing his bowl to the side as he leaned forward.

"I could just make you pay for those noodles," Pigsy teased, leaning forward himself. "But I think you have something else in mind."

He smiled as they both leaned forward, his snout making contact with Tang's nose before they tilted their heads and moved closer to-

"Hey!" Su yelped shakily from between them where they had tried to flatten themselves into the counter, startling them into pulling back and looking down at the cat sized bee. "Can you two save the kissing for later? Like. For 5 seconds from now. When Su won't be squished." Tang burst into laughter, covering his face with one hand and taking in stuttered breathes as he tried to stop himself. He carefully pushed the saucer of sugar water toward Su as they backed away from them, letting out a happy buzz when they deemed themselves at a non-squishing distance. "Ok, you may kiss now!"

This only served to make Tang laugh harder, laying his head down on his arms as his laughter devolved into just shaky and jumpy intakes of breathe. Oh, yeah. He was super tired if this made him laugh that hard.

"Truth be told, I forgot they were even here," Pigsy muttered, feeling his face heat up in embarassment.

But he couldn't feel upset with himself, not when Tang sat up and breathed heavily in less intense laughter and giggles, cheeks flushed and hair messed up again. Pigsy couldn't resist, he dragged a stool that was hidden behind the counter over with his foot and climbed onto it, leaning over the conter to grab Tang's scarf with one hand and gently drag him forward, giving him a few seconds to realize what he was doing and nod before smirking and pulling him into that kiss. His snout scrunched against Tang's nose and Tang broke the kiss with a giggle before bringing his hands up to cup Pigsy's face and tilt his head so they fit together better, lips finally touching the way they were supposed to and Pigsy rested his hand on Tang's shoulder.

He chose to ignore the other giggles and buzzing coming from the other side of the counter as he pulled away, smiling at Tang. "You get more if you go straight home and get some sleep."

"That is just the incentive I needed."

[konaizumi]

A Tale of a Thousand Stars ep 7 thoughts/reactions

so, the whole tian killed torfun thing, here’s my thoughts: I don’t think tian was the one driving the car because the show has refused to actually say it straight up despite implying it multiple times, so they prob just want us to think that, it was prob his friends driving the car or something, but tian is still involved and somewhat responsible for what happened bc he set up the race which is why he feels so guilty

on tian’s guilt, i think it’s a complicated issue and i think he’s not free of blame in the situation but I do think he is taking too much blame if he wasn’t behind the wheel, and, not to put the blame on torfun exactly, but she did walk out onto a busy street at night, you know, it wasn’t like they swerved up onto the sidewalk and hit her

how many more times is phupha gonna have to watch over tian while he’s unconscious

also not a huge fan of detective nam this ep, while i do think he deserves some answers, i do not think he should’ve gone behind tian’s back like that to get them, he should’ve confronted tian directly

love to see phupha in the casual camo

poor tian, he’s just really got it so rough this episode and he’s already got self-esteem issues then more incidents keep piling on which seem to confirm the negative thoughts that he already has

and it’s difficult bc when tian says the bad stuff wouldn’t’ve happened if he hadn’t been there, like, it’s true, which really makes the situation more complex but i like that there isn’t necessarily an easy fix and that this can’t all be solved with the power of friendship, you know?

i really hope there’s a focus on tian’s mental state and that he doesn’t just magically get better when all the problems are solved and once everyone forgives him because it’s not that easy and I want to see the actual process of healing

not me every episode getting distracted from the dialogue trying to figure out the shapes on phupha’s cameo, i just noticed this ep that some of the brown spots are deer

phupha’s hurt puppy dog face when tian returned the shirt

tian’s hurt face when phupha says he’s not going to try to convince him to stay, like he was so hurt at that moment when he thought phupha wouldn’t even try to fight for him

“don’t you miss your home?” not really, my dude

“then you stay here...indefinitely. Can you?” phupha subtly trying to gauge whether tian would be willing to stay in the village with him if they were to start a relationship

that cute scene where phupha tries to hide the tea sachet

the gay panic is strong this ep

“who said i would offer you the bed?” *offers him the bed*

the gay panic continues, phupha really knows exactly what he’s doing

is it just me or has tian just looked so small this ep?

also, tian is in a tan forest ranger shirt which means he borrowed a second shirt

the only reason phupha keeps implying tian is taking the role of his wife is because tian reacts so cutely to it

im sorry but do these kids not know how to brush their teeth? and is he showing them how on an onion?

when did tian learn cook after nearly burning his house down?

please enough with the torfun comparisons, i know they’re just adding them to shake up tian and for the angst, i don’t think they’d actually go the route of torfun’s spirit being part of tian, but like, p’aof, please just leave tian alone he feels shitty enough as is

also excuse me, dr nam, are you, a medical professional, really trying to imply that torfun’s spirit might be in some way affecting tian bc he has her heart??

tian’s doing that thing again where he complains with a smile but he’s not really complaining

i really want tul to meet longtae and then just watch the chaos they and tian create together

phupha risking quite a lot to get rid of sakda so the village is safe enough for tian to stay

super not into the scene where nam, rong, and yod are flirting with girls even tho they are all implied to have partners - like i get that the point was to emphasize that phupha’s in love with tian but the scene still could’ve done that without the three of them flirting, the girls could’ve just flirted with phupha

istg when phupha said he started thinking about something impossible i 100% thought he was referring him feeling like a relationship with tian was an impossibility and then tian would say something ambiguous that clearly implied that it wasn’t impossible and it would be all cute then he opens his mouth and says tian is like torfun and i wanted to smack him

is it really necessary to add in this tian/torfun comparison plotline? is there not already enough angst????

like the scene still could’ve been super romantic but still angsty bc tian would turn away from the kiss bc he feels like he can’t start something while he’s still keeping secrets

(which i know would just add to phupha’s insecurities but tian’s already got enough on his plate)

however, the way the music hits a discordant note then fades as soon as he says it and the way tian’s smile immediately drops, just like the instant atmospheric mood change was really well done

the whole scene was just really well acted on both sides

“are you going to confess your love to me?” just the way phupha prob meant to say this jokingly but it came out more seriously than intended

also as much as i want them to kiss, i am glad they didn’t during this scene, tian needs to tell the truth before anything can happen (not that i really thought they would kiss during this scene anyway

the way the village came together to rebuild the school hurts bc of what’s going to happen next ep

And the children are just so cute, istg if anything happens to them

if nam is actually telling phupha what he found out im gonna be so pissed at him for taking that away from tian, it really needs to be tian who comes clean about it, especially because he was planning on it, he wasn’t trying to keep it secret forever

what really makes this whole situation worse is that not only does tian have to tell them about torfun’s heart and his role in the accident, but he has to tell them about torfun’s death, which should not have to be his responsibility. The forest rangers should’ve told everyone a while ago, and it’s not tian’s fault that they don’t know. So all the villagers are now going to associate tian with her death simply because he’s the one delivering the news. If they had already known and had time to process before tian got there, i think it would be very easy for them to still accept him when he told them about how he had her heart and he was just trying to carry on her wishes, but now all the feelings they have about torfun’s death (which apparently happened months ago) are going to be directed at tian

phupha please stop your flirting, you’re going to give tian heart failure again

still a good ep even tho the angst was pretty heavy, I’m glad the reveal will finally happen next ep so we can get that out of the way and finally move on, can’t wait for next friday even tho it’ll prob just be even more angst

[chaolie]

Fundy Week, Day 2 - Family

Here's what I managed to write for the 2nd prompt of @fundyfiles' Fundy Week! Instead of going by blood family, I decided to pretend that the adoption arc actually ended good and all is well. So yeah! Just some Fundy & Eret fluff! Again, this is also on my Ao3!

Characters: Fundy, Eret

Words: 1k

Warnings: none

Summary: Fundy prepares to spend some time in another SMP, but he still finds some time to spend with his adoptive parent, Eret, before he has to leave. And for once, things feel great.

Fundy slowly opened his eyes and found himself lying in a big, comfortable bed placed in a rather spacy room. He sat up and looked around, it sometimes took him a moment to remember where he was after waking up, he moved around quite a bit after all… as soon as the sleepiness left his mind, he felt stupid for forgetting. This was his room. His home.

He got out of his bed and walked over to the window, pushing away the curtains and letting the sunlight into the bedroom. The sun was quite high, he must’ve slept in a bit, but it’s not like he was in rush, he had nothing planned until the evening. While watching the world outside, he noticed a familiar person enter through the gate, and found himself smiling. ‘Familiar’ was an understatement.

He grabbed his jacket and hat before leaving the room, quickly going down the stairs and to the main entrance, managing to make it outside just before the person he spotted through the window could enter. They stopped before Fundy crushed into them, and smiled upon seeing him.

“Hi! Good morning!” Fundy greeted them, fixing up his hat as he came to a full stop.

“Hey, it’s good to see you awake.” Eret, the person Fundy saw, answered. “How did you sleep?”

“Pretty well, pretty well,” the fox hybrid admitted. “Though I did wake up just a couple of minutes ago…”

“Of course,” Eret nodded, it was something she expected to hear. “In that case, you must be hungry. Let me just put this bag away and we can have a late breakfast.”

“Sounds great! What are we eating?” Fundy asked as he stepped out of Eret’s way, allowing them to enter the castle. They shrugged in response.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked while walking inside and heading towards one of the storage rooms near the entrance.

“I don’t know, uhh…” Fundy hesitated. What did he want to eat? Eret seemed to wonder about that for a moment as well.

“How about some bread and carrots? We can get some more fulfilling foods for dinner,” they suggested eventually. Fundy nodded, he didn’t have that for quite a while.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed.

Eret quickly put the blocks she had in the bag into one of the chests in the room before heading towards the room they usually ate in, Fundy following her not far behind. The food didn’t take long to prepare, so within moments, they both sat at the big table and both enjoyed their very-late breakfast. Despite its simplicity, it was tasty and Fundy felt lucky to have woken up just in time to have it. After eating in silence for a bit, Eret finally spoke up.

“So… you’re leaving today, aren’t you?” he pointed out. Fundy nodded to confirm.

“Yeah. But I’m not going until the evening, so I still have a bit to spend here,” he clarified before going back to his food.

“I see… so what do you want to do today?” Eret asked. Fundy shrugged, he wasn’t sure himself. “...I could show you the progress I’ve made on my building project, if you’d like? Who knows, it might be completed when you get back.”

“Oh, yeah, we should do that. I also want to drop by my old place, if you don’t mind? To make sure I didn’t leave anything important there,” he explained. That seemed to confuse Eret a bit.

“Sure, but… you can’t bring anything with you, can you?” he reminded. Fundy nodded.

“Well, yeah, that’s how it works. But without me here, what’s stopping anyone from walking in and taking anything they want?” he explained his concern better.

“Oh, I see. If you find anything, I’ll look after it while you’re gone,” Eret promised. Fundy smiled upon hearing that.

“Thanks, mum ,” he said, adding the last word somewhat jokingly, but it still felt somewhat accurate.

“You’re welcome, son ,” Eret shot back. “Are you done eating?”

“Oh, yeah! We can go now, if you want,” Fundy confirmed, getting off his chair and stepping back from the table. Eret did the same.

“Great, let me just grab some things and we can be on our way.”

It was a good day. Fundy got to see all the progress Eret made on their latest build, and happily listened as they described all the things they still planned to add. With him away, they could probably focus on bringing their ideas to life… and he couldn’t wait to see the results once he’d get back. They also stopped by his old house, checking the chests for any valuables, but except for an iron ingot or two, there was nothing there. It wasn't too surprising, most of Fundy's belongings were already stored in his room, in Eret's castle.

As the sun started to linger over the horizon, they both headed back home, and Fundy quickly went to his room to leave his things and grab the device that would allow him to travel. He was heading to a different SMP, where he’d meet some of his old friends, but without the small machine, it would be impossible to get there. Once he made it downstairs again, Eret was still waiting for him, and offered to walk him into the woods, where he intended to use the device. He gladly accepted that offer, and the two of them quickly made their way further from the castle, until the surroundings seemed just right. There, they’d have to part ways.

“Stay safe, and have fun,” Eret said before they’d have to turn back.

“Yeah, yeah… don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I know some people there, and from what I heard they don’t have any lives limit there either,” he explained as he pulled out the device from his pocket.

“I’m glad. Take care of yourself, Fundy. And good luck,” they wished him, putting a hand over his shoulder.

“Thanks. Have fun building,” he answered before going quiet for a moment. “...I’ll miss you,” he admitted finally.

“I’ll miss you, too. But you can always come back, right?” Eret reminded him. And she was right, from what Fundy heard, traveling back and forth shouldn’t be too complicated after the first time doing so.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he nodded. After hesitating for a bit, he leaned forward and gave Eret a short hug before turning around and walking a bit further. “Bye, re-” he cut himself off before he could finish.

That didn’t sound like the ‘teasing’ kind of way they usually said those things. Of course, they were a family, but ‘official titles’ like that didn’t appear in their conversations too often, and they were mostly said jokingly. But this time, it wasn’t a joke, but a slip-up. Though maybe Eret wouldn’t notice? He looked back at him and found him smiling.

“Goodbye, son,” they waved at him. So they did notice.

Fundy felt embarrassed, in a way. Technically, Eret was his parent, she adopted him after all. But he didn’t plan to call her that just now, it just happened somehow- It shouldn’t matter, should it? Eret didn’t seem bothered by that, so he shouldn’t worry about it either. Brushing the embarrassment aside, he focused on getting his traveling device working. It didn’t take long to figure it out, and soon enough he could feel it starting to pull him into the other world.

He looked back at Eret, at his parent, at one of the few people he considered family, and found them waving at him. He waved back before disappearing. It was nice, having somewhere he could always come back to and having someone he could always depend on.

***

To be clear, Fundy stopped himself from referring to Eret as "ren", which is short of paRENt! I saw it used a couple of times and I really like the term!

Also, I didn't have any specific SMP in mind while writing this, so where Fundy's heading to is up to your interpretation. Is it cogchamp, is it vault hunters, who knows! At least he'll have fun!

[cats-art-and-dinosaurs]

Hello @annwritesallday I was your secret cupid for @rdr-secret-cupid :)

I apologise for the delay, my health kinda let me down and thus, I lost a lot of time.

I'm also more used to drawing, but your requests leaned more towards writing soooo... a chance to try something new, I guess? :)

English also isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes!

Characters: Charles Smith, Arthur Morgan

Themes: Friendship, Emotional Comfort I guess?

Warnings: Hints at animal cruelty, emotional abuse and not so healthy drinking behavior

Summary: Arthur drinks a bit too much and tells Charles about his feelings (friendship)

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The sun had set hours ago at Clemens Point and by now, the lake was full of stars. It was a warm night, and in Charles opinion much more pleasent than the suffocating humid heat that lay over them during the days in this area.

He let out a sigh of relief as he sat down near the shore of the lake at the edge of camp. Drunken laughter and cheerful voices swept over to him, but they were dulled by the calm water in front of him.

Hosea had pulled of some kind of small scam today and had returned to camp with a crate of beer and a big smile on his face. One thing led to another and soon the overall interest in work and chores around camp had significantly lessened and rather turned towards storytelling, joking and singing.

And so, not much work got done that day, and though Charles did take over some of the other's chores, there was still plenty to do. But that had to wait until tomorrow. It had been a long day and he was glad to finally have a quiet moment for himself.

He had considered joining Kieran at the scout fire, but the latter had also been doing more work around camp today than usual and not being the most outgoing person, he was probably grateful to have some time alone.

And so Charles had found himself this little spot at the shore, but after a few minutes, he heard footsteps approaching him.

The person stumbled a few times, clearly having had a bit too much whiskey, but Charles still recognized the man without having to turn around.

"Arthur."

"Hello Charles", Arthur greeted him and giggled as he struggled to keep his balance while trying to sit down next to him.

Arthur hadn't been around camp for the past few days and had just come back this afternoon, a frown on his face and a distant look in his eyes. Something had definetly been on his mind and Charles wondered if Arthur had tried to wash it away with the alcohol. He hoped he was wrong.

His thoughts were interupted by Arthur's slighty slurred voice.

"Really nice. The lake, it's... is really nice. It's... so much calm water. I like it. I feel..."

There was a shift in his voice and he paused.

Charles turned his head to look at Arthur, trying to figure out what was bothering him. But Arthur didn't even seem to know himself as he gestured with his hands, triyng to find the right words, which appearently was made more difficult by the alcohol in his veins.

"I... I just... feel awful."

It was a miserabel sight, really. Usually Arthur was well aware of the intimidating effect his size and appearance could have on others. He didn't even have to do much, just stand tall, maybe cross his arms and put on a mean face.

But the man who now sat next to Charles on the dirty ground was nothing like that. He was slumped over, suddenly appearing much smaller than he actually was, not even trying to hide the emotions displayed on his face.

"Why? Arthur, did something happen?"

"Well, yeah... I think, I... There was this man and his - his horse... he said it died and he asked me to give him a ride."

Arthur paused for a moment, letting out a defeated sigh, "I wanted to help him but it was a stupid... stupid trap an' he'd killed the horse himself to make it look real and... and I jus' wanted to help."

He stopped once again, but this time, a small sob escaped Arthur. And Charles was glad the other man had to pause, as he himself also needed a moment to let it sink in.

It seemed so small and insignificant compared to other acts of violence he had witnessed over the years, and maybe that was why it wasn't easy to understand. Killing a horse so you had the element of surprise while attempting to rob someone, not even knowing if they had any money at all? It didn't make sense.

Next to him, Arthur was failing to keep his tears in check, so Charles carefully put his hand on his shoulder.

Arthur's body tensed up for a moment and Charles felt a wave of disappointment rush through him, afraid that now Arthur would turn away and never open up to him ever again.

But after a few seconds, Arthur relaxed and continued to talk, "I thought I knew what I was doing. Jus' wanted to do something right, as in... do the right thing. And I don't know why it's so... so hard for me."

No matter how tough and dense Arthur sometimes acted, Charles knew there was more to him. He wasn't quite sure yet what exactly, but people were complicated after all. However, some seemed to be more complicated than others. And seeing Arthur so hurt and confused? Somehow, it confused Charles too.

Arthur sniffed and finally turned his gaze to the younger outlaw, "It's so easy for you and I just... don't even understand what's right and what's wrong. Always have to think about it. I think I'm jealous... because you just... you just do what's right without wondering what the right thing is. And I don't even know what's right. I don't even know why I don't know. No idea what I'm doing. I just - "

"Arthur, stop that."

"What?"

"Talking like that. It's nonsense."

While Arthur had been rambling on, Charles had recognized one of the emotions that was growing stronger within him right now. With every single word Arthur got out with shaky breaths, his anger grew. It wasn't directed at Arthur, but rather at the situation. And he had to do something about it.

Arthur didn't try to back away, his eyes were fixed on his face, probably stunned by his sudden change of tone.

With his hand still firmly on Arthur's shoulder, Charles continued, "I don't know where you're getting these ideas from, but it's not true."

"I..."

"Arthur, I know you've probably had one or two beer too many. But don't think I didn't notice that you're always putting yourself down, wether you're sober or not."

Arthur blinked a few times, looking almost offended, "I'm not drunk, just..."

"Just a little bit drunk, I know", a small smile escaped him at Arthur's blatant lie and his tone softened, "Can you just... listen to me for a moment?"

Arthur still looked somewhat unsure, but still gave him an hesitant nod.

"I don't always know what's right. And if there's someone who claims they always do, they're lying. And whoever put those ideas in your head is also a liar."

There was a flash of realization in the teary eyes of the older outlaw and he slowly turned his head away. Someone had obviously come to Arthur's mind.

Charles had a feeling who it was and maybe Arthur was even thinking of more than one person.

But whatever the case was, given Arthur's reaction, Charles had definetly hit a nerve.

Now that he had, Charles almost felt a bit guilty. Almost.

He pushed those feelings away and instead focused on Arthur again, gesturing towards the camp behind them with his free hand, "Look, all those people... The girls all had their share of... bad experiences, and they trust you. They're not naïve."

"I would never-"

"No, of course not, because you know it's wrong and given your reaction, you never even thought of it in the first place."

Arthur shook his head, a grossed out expression all over his face.

"I've seen the way you laugh together. They care about you", Charles paused at the disbelieving look Arthur gave him and rolled his eyes in response, "Don't look at me like that, they DO. You're like... this grumpy, big brother. If you don't belive me, I'll go and get them to come over so they can tell you yourself. You want me to do that?"

It was an attempt at humor, but it completly went over Arthur's head, "No, I don't want them to see me like... well..."

He tried to wipe the tears from his face, but his red eyes and nose were not easy to miss, even though the only source of light were the fires and lanterns from the nearby camp and the moon in the night sky above them.

Charles moved his hand from Arthur's shoulder to his back, carefully patting him as the other man continued to rub at his face, "It's okay Arthur. It's alright. Nothing wrong with having emotions."

He could have sworn to have heard a soft laugh from Arthur at that, and as he looked a bit closer, there actually seemed to be a genuine smile on his face.

"I mean it. There are people who go through life and don't seem to think about how what they're doing affects others at all. Like that guy who killed his horse. And even if they do, I doubt they care to much. But you obviously do care. That's a good thing."

"But?"

"But please... stop comparing yourself to me as if I'd know everything and never make mistakes. You have to think and decide for yourself."

"Hosea told me the same", there was a smile in Arthu's voice now and this time, it was mirrored by his face. Charles returned the smile, but raised his eyebrows in a manner of faked disbelief.

Arthur laughed at that and raised his finger in a scolding gesture, "Oh don't you look at me that. I'm afraid I'm not drunk enough to forget about this conversation once I'm sober again... I'm sorry, I... I guess the drink loosened the tongue... damn..."

"Well, I sure am glad it did. Someone had to... well, at least try to talk some sense into you."

But Arthur didn't respond to the teasing this time, and instead seemed to struggle to find the right words once again.

"I'm...", Arthur paused, then laid his hand on Charle's shoulder the same way the younger outlaw had done before, "Thank you. For... this, for beeing honest and... listening and... For beeing my friend."

Charles nodded, glad that he appearently had gotten through some of the self-doubt that occupied Arthur's mind.

"Charles, if... if there's ever something you'd like to talk about... I care about you, too. And if you need to talk, I'll be there too, okay?"

"I know."